Saturday Morning, May 11

1) Apparently yesterday was the anniversary of the death of Joan Crawford, so this morning I found this enchanting clip of her singing in French, German, and English in 1931’s Possessed. She looks so beautiful and devoted. “Though I taste your kisses, how long will they last?”

1a) This is, of course, completely different from 1947’s Possessed in which she marries Raymond Massey in an effort to make Van Heflin jealous.

2) As I continue to unpack everything from home, a minor tragedy. Mother had a wonderful, ingenious electric knife grinder which i remember using as a child to help out in the kitchen. When packing in March, I put it in a plastic bag. Unwrapping it a day or two ago, it smelt horribly of vinegar! And I remembered reading a news story many years about about “sad dolls,” old dolls made out of plastic that degraded and made the dolls appear as though they were crying. And I thought, “Damn, I’ve just killed this knife grinder.”

3) Mother’s Day is tomorrow, but I am not really feeling fazed by its approach. in my family May 14 was always the big May holiday: my parents’ wedding anniversary and my sister’s birthday (their 11th anniversary gift to each other). So when Mother’s Day fell on May 14 it was like the triple crown.

Wednesday Evening, May 8

1) Big philosophical question of the day: how much of what you hate is also a part of you?

2) Reading the evening news on the way home and at dinner felt more apocalyptic than usual.

3) Not long ago I joined a Joan Crawford appreciation group of ye Fycebykke. This evening someone posted a photo of her in a movie I haven’t seen, The Gorgeous Hussy, suggesting it might have been her screen test for Gone With the Wind. Needless to say THAT discussion has been interesting, but it just led me to quote Alicia Rhett as India Wilkes saying “You’ve done everything you can to lower the prestige of decent people . . .” . . . which brought me right back to 2) above.

Sunday Evening, May 5

1) I spent the morning working on a column and a reader survey for Etiquetteer, and this was my view in the dining room.

1a) And this was the uncropped view:

2) And that view is different now! I finally got all those boxes and all that bubble wrap cleared off. Now . . . does anyone need a bag or two of bubble wrap? We just bought it six weeks ago and it still has a lot of life . . .

3) It was quite the Hometown Roundup at Doyle’s this evening since I was joined by raconteur par excellence Paul Hart Miller for dinner. Aside from catching up on current events, we were able to swap stories from our family histories.

Early Saturday Morning, May 4

1) Wakeful in the night - I mean exceptionally wakeful - and chose to start my day just before 5 AM. Parlor coffee and devotional: much of John 12 from Mother’s Lamsa Bible, C.S. Lewis (first time since April 19 - I have not been good about having devotional the last couple weeks), The Art of Worldly Wisdom #26, quite a bit of It’s Not How Good You Are, It’s How Good You Want to Be (which I picked up in New York in January), and the entry on Shostakovich in Daily Rituals.

1a) From John 12: verse 31: “Now is the judgment of this world; now the leader of this world will be cast out.” And verse 43: “For they loved the honor of men more than the glory of God.”

1b) I’ve said it before, and it’s still true: I love the dark, quiet hour before sunrise.

2) “Murder is relaxing at times of stress,” I always say, but only when it’s fictional. I’m still slogging through Stalin: The Court of the Red Tsar, and I must say it’s depressing - but not easy to put down. I’ve just started the bit where Molotov’s Jewish wife Polina is about to be arrested as part of a postwar anti-Semitic pogrom. About 98% of this book is entirely new information for me; obviously I’d be much more interested in the Romanovs and the Ballets Russes. Reading this biography is like reading all Orwell’s original source material.

3) What can we all cultivate today that is beautiful? A thought, a task, a handshake, a child’s imagination?

Thursday Morning, May 2

1) Wanting to be excited about the future. Certainly the May horoscopes from ye Tywne ynd Cyntrye are interesting!

1a) But what this is really going to mean for me is a) time management, b) powering through, and c) listening, diplomacy, and patience.

2) Steadfastly not complaining about the weather. Yes, it’s May and it’s chilly. We live in New England, and this is one of the risks we accept when we choose to live here.

3) Yesterday I went to a tasting with a small group of colleagues at a caterer’s HQ. Quite brought me back to my Ballet days. I’ll never forget being invited to an event planner’s luncheon held in the gigantic kitchen of one of the big Back Bay hotels . . .

Tuesday Morning, April 30

1) Back to colors, the black is put away. It’s nice to rediscover parts of my wardrobe that haven’t been worn all winter.

1a) That bow tie is actually called the Dimmick. Back in February an excited friend let me know about it in the catalog, so of course I had to get it. With that blue shirt it’s like being a Howard Johnson’s.

2) I swear I’m the only person on Earth who’s made the connection that World Naked Gardening Day, which always falls on the first Saturday of May, is this year May 4, which is always Star Wars Day. Etiquetteer has some advice, of course. The possibilities are intriguing.

3) This was on my table at lunch yesterday. No idea why, but suspicious.

Sunday Evening, April 28

1) In the words of the late Noel Coward, “I went to a marvelous party . . . “ and it really was. But the combination of that third drink and my forgetten late-in-life cat allergy left me in a depleted state this morning, physically and emotionally.

1a) So no dance party tonight. But it’s wiser not to go.

2) Random domesticity, including trying to sort out a mountain of linens. Having emptied out the cedar chest (which the upstairs neighbors are taking to their new home at the end of May), I came across some lengths of muslin left over from the curtains made for the debutante party in January, 1992, back when I had that basement apartment on Beacon Street. I think I’ll comission an entire summer wardrobe from that and the dozens of old flour sacks from Gramma’s house.

3) For the last two days I just could not deal with national or international news. Call me selfish, the apocalypse is coming, but I can’t fucking deal with it.

4) After dinner at Doyle’s with Stalin (I can’t wait to finish this, it’s so terrifying), I was delighted and surprised to see this beautiful rainbow - and my house at the end of it! I so much want this to be a sign of hope, not just for me, but for everyone.

Saturday Midday, April 27

1) This morning over my first cup of coffee I started writing about the Week in Review. And then I stopped, realizing how f*****’ whiny it sounded. Who needs it?!

2) While the three-month anniversary of Mother’s death is May Day, I’m cheating a bit and going back to colors today so I can go to a couple big parties this weekend. Time to fold away the black and dark gray and bring out the bow ties and novelty socks again.

2a) But even with the end of “official” mourning, I am still feeling - well, I don’t know if “introspective” or “fragile” is the right word - but “overwhelmed” certainly figures.

3) This morning I channeled my inner Imelda Marcos and went downtown to buy shoes. Last year I started off Reunions with the WRONG pair of shoes and ended up with such an appalling migraine that I had to stagger through the rest of the weekend in a floppy pair of unbleached linen espadrilles that didn’t go with any of my suits. This year I now have some smart black shoes that fit properly.

4) Irresistibly I drifted over to ye Bryttle Bookstore, where on every shelf I found at least one book I already owned. That happens more and more . . . inside, three student actresses were filming a scene for a movie at the cash register. The dialogue included the title of a book something like “Know Your Own Vagina” and the line “We don’t want you to do anything by yourself.”

4a) After browsing I came away with a paperback of July 1914, which I read a few years ago but don’t own. With some rain coming down, I retreated to the Marliave for shrimp scampi and coffee. And now, it’s off to the office for a few hours of productivity before a party!

Tuesday, April 23 - The Day the Movers Came

1) Just as I finished the last entry, Tuesday morning at 9:17 AM, the movers pulled up in their large truck with my stuff. They headed off with an empty truck at 10:31 AM. I can’t believe it happened so quickly! Everything had been tagged with one or more numbers. They handed me a sheet like a bingo card and I had to check off the numbers as they brought things into the house.

1a) They were up front about a couple damages: a finial broke off a bedpost, and a wheel at the base of the big bookcase split in half. They ended up taking off all the wheels, which was most sensible.

1b) The foreman assembled my grandmother’s four-poster in my bedroom, pointing out a loose join in the headboard. Before I could stop myself I replied “Well, I lead a quiet life.”

1c) The foreman thanked me for being so prepared and organized - I knew where I wanted everything to go - and since I’d taken a heavy dose of good-natured ribbing about not being ready a few days before I rather preened myself.

2) Once they were gone, I concentrated on books, which led me to some unexpected damage: to the base of the bookcase that had the broken wheel and to the bottom door of a banker’s bookcase. I did not fly off the handle but kept remarkably calm. They can be fixed. Mostly I just wanted to make space by getting all those books off the floor and onto the shelves!

2a) And five hours of that (including lunch) brought me to the end of my rope. I began the cocktail hour in the tub. A hot soak-and-scrub and a manhattan made me a new man! I have rarely felt so rejuvenated.

3) After that I had to change my focus from books to something else, and I started unpacking the fragile stuff. NONE of the wedding crystal or other glass broke, as might be expected. The only two things I found damaged were an alabaster fish bookend from which a point can broken off, and a hole punched through the base of one of Granny Dimmick’s candelabra (and I almost want to leave it as a character mark).

3a) At the end of the day, I couldn’t help thinking that it’s a good thing I didn’t take anything else from the house. I wouldn’t have had the room!

Tuesday Morning, April 23

1) Today’s the day the movers are supposed to arrive from Lago di Carlo. I confirmed with the moving company yesterday, and they gave me an arrival time of 8:00 - 10:00 AM. It’s 8:55, and no sign yet.

2) Over three weeks ago I reserved the parking spaces in front of the house with the city, and I posted all the flyers and placards as directed. So you can imagine my anxiety when I looked out the window just before 8 and saw a car parked right in the middle! Consternation! And what to do?! I really didn’t want to be That Person and call the city for a tow, but I also needed those bought-and-paid-for spaces to make things easy. “Things will all work out,” I said to myself . . . and they did. About 8:30 I saw the driver putting something into the trunk, and I bolted onto the porch to ask (very sweetly) “Would you mind awfully moving your car?” And the driver was going anyway, so things did work out.

2a) But now I feel like I have to check every five minutes to be sure no one else has parked there. :-/

3) It’s very much a Harriet Craig kind of day. “Those you live to themselves are left to themselves.”

Easter Sunday, 2019

1) I won the cocktail hour at afternoon Easter dinner at the home of friends in Malden by asking “Alexa! Why is Wikipedia considered a reliable resource?” I suggest you try it.

2) The three weeks of the year when the star magnolia is in bloom are the prettiest my house gets all year.

3) The moving van is allegedly arriving on Tuesday with everything from my mother’s house. I am not really ready. I don’t care. It will all work out one way or another.

Memories of Notre Dame

1) Heartbroken over the news from Paris of the Notre Dame fire. It’s a loss to Paris, to France, to the world.

2) What I remember most from my 2008 visit there: the carving of St. Denis holding his head in the entrance, the spot where Paul Claudel experienced his conversion, and touring the sacristy to view its treasures.

The entrance of Notre Dame, including St. Denis carrying his own head. October, 2008

Paul Claudel’s card, seen in the sacristy of Notre Dame, October, 2008. In the cathedral itself was a small plaque on the floor at the exact spot where M. Claudel experienced his conversion.

One of the treasures in the sacristy of Notre Dame, October, 2008.

3) Beyond religion, Notre Dame is like the Taj Mahal of Paris. (Versailles would be the Taj Mahal of France.) It’s a cultural monument, an icon, deeply rooted into the identity of Paris and, for me, into a world that values what is beautiful and true. It’s always been there. For Bostonians, I can’t even imagine an equivalent. The State House? The Old North Church is of simliar stature, but can’t command the skyline. The Hancock Tower is instantly identifiable, but it’s not even 50 years old.

4) My hope, and I’m sure I’m not alone, is that Notre Dame will be restored in just the same way that the campanile in Venice was restored: com’era, dov’era - as it was, where it was. It will take more than money. It will take knowledge and talent.

Notre Dame from the rear, October, 2008.

Monday Morning, Patriot's Day (Observed) 2019

1) Remember all those great Don’t Panic T-shirts from the 1990s? Remember the one that said “Next Mood Swing in 6 Minutes”? That’s my weekend! So excited yesterday finally to publish Etiquetteer’s review of Lizzie Post’s Higher Etiquette, then absolutely sunk observing that it didn’t get much internet exposure (and for other reasons). And now, back to feeling good after seeing that the author liked my tweet of the review. It’s a roller coaster over here!

2) Also reflected in this morning’s soundtrack, from Kellee Patterson’s “If It Don’t Fit, Don’t Force It” to Richard Tauber in Heart’s Delight singing Schumann.

3) During this morning’s devotional I looked out at the pelting rain and thought both of how tough it would be for everyone running (and viewing) the marathon, and also for the health and welfare of the just-blossomed star magnolia in front of the house. And now, a few hours later, the sun is out. Next mood swing in 6 minutes!

Saturday Morning, April 13

1) While the April 14-15 observation in Massachusetts this year is that sporty thing under the veneer of Patriots Day, the real historical observations to make are Lincoln’s assassination (1865) and (and you knew this was coming, since it’s coming from me) the sinking of the Titanic (1912). I have too much going on to whip out either Manhunt: The 12-Day Chase for Lincoln’s Killer or any of my many books on the Titanic, but I may well put on A Night to Remember for some audio/visual wallpaper.

1a) The James Cameron Titanic doesn’t make good a/v wallpaper for me (it’s the music), nor does the Nazi Titanic commanded by Goebbels (aside from the gross inaccuracies in service of wicked and evil Nazi propaganda, there’s too much yelling in German - and I mean from the very beginning of the movie, not just during the sinking.)

1b) Y’know, I think it’s in a box on the moving van, but I’ll also have Mother and Daddy’s copy of Lincoln and his Generals by the eminent historian T. Harry Williams, a familiar sight on the family bookcase from childhood. I haven’t yet read it, but Daddy spoke admiringly once about taking a class with him at LSU.

1c) Actual Patriots Day is, as everyone should know, April 19.

2) When I went downstairs to start the laundry, the basement common space was entirely empty! This is nothing short of a miracle - but let me hasten to point that none of the stuff cluttering up the common space belonged to me.

3) When the alarm clock went off I was explaining Auntie Mame’s love life to Gene Kelly. The only possible explanation is that I was listening to his recording of “Nina” from The Pirate yesterday evening.

Friday Evening, April 12

1) I will not deny that the last two days haven’t been the easiest. Yesterday a colleague very kindly expressed the wish that I had time right now for a long vacation to sort things out for myself. “I wish I had time for that, too,” I replied, “but it simply isn’t there with Reunions less then two months away.”

2) Scrolling through ye Fycebykke tonight, how very depressing to see how much an angry, vindictive celebration of stupidity and ignorance has taken hold of America. I can’t even fathom it.

3) Going back to the very beginning of my life, there was Sheherezade. Mother remembered that as a toddler I would stop whatever I was doing to listen to the violin solos (which represent Sheherezade telling her tales of the 1,001 nights to Shahriar). Since then, like most other people, I am most enamored of the first movement, “The Sea,” and its majestic, undulating rhythms.

3a) And I don’t suppose it’s a coincidence that I got so interested in the Ballets Russes back in college, because the hit sensation of their first season in Paris was Sheherezade starring Nijinsky and Karsavina, choreographed by Fokine and with sets and costumes by the revolutionary Bakst.

Wednesday Morning, April 10

1) The funnest thing I’ve done in awhile is pick up a copy of the new etiquette book about marijuana, Higher Etiquette, and post an Etiquetteer photo about it last night. The reactions have been encouraging, and I am really looking forward to reviewing the book this weekend. There hasn’t been a lot of time or space for Etiquetteer this winter, so this really makes me happy.

2) Planning and speculating fill my head - that and the gray cotton wool of sleepiness, which obscures everything.

3) Mother always remembered four-year-old me saying to the Community Concert ladies “I have to do my income tax!” in that serious way that children have. Fifty-something years later, I still do.

Tuesday Night, April 9

1) The undeniable glamor of meeting a friend for drinks at the Parker House after work was gilded by learning it was his birthday, and then mitigated by the unglamor of grocery shopping afterward.

2) Between these two essential engagements, I was horrified to see that ye Gucky was inspired by my pink leopard skin wrapping paper (see above). Just . . . no.

3) And for a little night music, the finale of Ein Walzertraum.

Tuesday Morning, April 9

1) My third-floor neighbor has been working like a farmer, dawn to well after dark, preparing the property for their open house, which I think is this weekend. Scraping and fixing and repainting steps and trim and porches, installing a new rain chain, etc. Last night I came home and he was spreading a truckload of mulch! I’m in awe of his energy.

2) Parlor coffee and devotional just after 5 AM; couldn’t sleep. In the Lamsa Bible a #MeToo story: Tamar taken by her brother Amnon. Saddening and angering in turn. Mother’s marginalia: “COUNT THE COST. BETTER TO DO ACCORDING TO CUSTOM.”

3) Last night I came home full of action items, and then . . . and then I saw a post on ye Fycebykke about some doofus trying to dry off a football field with gasoline, and I thought “Oh, I’ll comment with one of those fail videos about some doofus making his grill explode by using too much lighter fluid.” Bad idea. It led me down a rabbit hole of fail videos that distracted me over half an hour.

3a) Worse, I could feel myself becoming stupider, but could not look away. My brain was rotting, and I could tell. Back in 2008 or so I went through my phase with ye Failleblygge (this coincided roughly with the end of my eBay phase) - but I got out of it! It’s not even a good way to relax, watching all this fail. Needless to say, I didn’t accomplish as much as I’d hoped.

Sunday Evening, April 7

1) Doyle’s Road Race today, the first one in quite a few years on which I didn’t hold an open house. Just didn’t have it in me, but when I heard the motorcycle sirens go off, I ran out immediately to see the first runners pass by. As they often do, the Boston Gaelic Column - that’s the bagpipers associated with the police department - set up right across the street from Maison Robaire. They were wonderful, as always, honking away for about 20 minutes.

2) I had to run errands on ye Cyntre Strytte, including the hardware store for a large can of custom-tinted primer, exterior wood filler, and paintable caulk. The third floor has undertaken some serious labor on our exterior in preparation for their open house soon. I admire his energy, and freely acknowledge that I’d just hire a conrtractor.

3) This evening, prosecco in hand, I feel a bit like Lily Bart waiting in the drawing room for that lawyer to call.

BONUS: I don’t care what anyone says, “Beautiful Girls” from Follies is the greatest song Sondheim has ever written. Period.

Saturday Morning, April 6 - Domesticity/My So-Called Glamorous Life

1) It’s a Day of Domesticity at Maison Robaire! I simply had to recognize that the house was out of control, and this morning two housekeepers showed up to give the place a thorough cleaning. I’ve only ever done this once before, two years ago before a VIP friend visited - but now I get to be my own VIP. Just as good as an hour of therapy.

1a) Besides, the moving van should be arriving week after next. The decks need to be cleared for the onslaught! Once the housekeepers go I’ll be targeting things for my own tag sale.

2) On ye Fycebykke, a friend made a comment about my allegedly glamorous life, contrasting it with the alleged dreariness of her own. It immediately made me think of Grace Kelly talking about her day in Rear Window (start at 03:53): “Oh, what I day I’ve had! . . . I was all morning in a sales meeting, and then I had to dash to the Waldorf for a quick drink with Madame Dufrene, who’s over from Paris with her spy reports. And then I had to go to 21 and have lunch with the Harper’s Bazaar people. (That’s when I ordered the dinner.) Then I had two fall showings 20 blocks apart. Then I had to have a cocktail with Leland and Slim Hayward; we’re trying to get his new show. And then I had to dash back and change.”

2a) And I admit, I can (and do) make it sound like that. For instance, there are two ways to describe last night:

• Interpretation 1: Before dinner I saw on social media that two friends from New York were overnighting in Boston. We met for after-dinner drinks at their hotel and had a good catch-up.

• Interpretation 2: Imagine the excitement of discovering that Jonathan and William were up from the City - quite impromptu and I had no idea! Eager to dine with them on Saturday, but alas, they were just overnighting. After dinner I rushed down to the Parker House and we flung ourselves into deep chairs by the window in the bar so we could exchange all the news over cocktails.

2a.1) If you read Dorothy Parker’s short story “Diary of a New York Lady” you’ll get the general idea.

2b) But more often than not it’s just commuting drudgery, Doyle’s, and dishwashing, and who wants to read about that? As Bette Davis memorably said in The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex: “. . . an empty, glittering husk.”

3) All the curtains are open right now in all the rooms, something that almost never happens (as most previous roommates will complain). The crocuses are coming up. Spring, renewal, is on the way.