Four’s Flights

http://www.thisisjuststupid.com/stupid-pictures/a-jc-penney-catalog-from-1977/

 soft gray fur rainy day, spent some time this morning in the big chair by the picture window watching the trees soak it all up, WhiskyBlue sitting on my shoulder on the lookout for squirrels, Miss Moon and Sheppy asleep on my lap, Hilo and WookyRosie on their big beds beside me,  thinking about how beautiful this life is, awestruck. When my morning tea is gone I get to do my ironing at that same window, a Lakme CD playing, passionate and romantic, a good accompaniment to the rain and the soft chug of the washing machine.

    When F. comes home for lunch bringing a scatter of windy leaves

and glistening air with him, I get to make a salad and a pot of homemade tomato soup with a bit of cheddar in it for us both, feed the dogs, clean the kitchen and make another cup of tea.

    Then it’s downstairs to work in the studio again making yet more pots I’ll have to figure out how to sell, and a few hours with my studio mate making glazes, loading the kiln, critiquing each others’ work, sharing Thanksgiving stories — time with a  friend, a great boon.

   A visit to Curves to work off some of that garlic bread from last night (dinner with friends at a local Italian place, Mussels Fra Diavolo too delicious for words), and a stop at the  Amagansett fish market to visit their two gorgeous Belgian Shepherds (Boris and Natasha I kid you not)  who are always in the mood for a good neck scritch, and to pick up some flounder to broil and some Brussels sprouts to roast for dinner. Still have half of the most succulent cantaloupe saved from breakfast for dessert — F. will like that.

Might turn the outside light on at bedtime for a few minutes to watch this lovely rain a bit more before sleep. Seeing all the wonderful cousins at Thanksgiving made me happy, but I miss Maggie and Mom so much — it all comes back in a rush sometimes.

No idea why I felt the need to celebrate this gift of a day by writing it, but there it is, anyhow.

 in spite of hard won traveling neuroses (most of which got left behind, confined to the basement for the duration), I blissfully survived another Thanksgiving trip to the city for which am everlastingly thankful, especially to xanax, and my sweetie who did all the driving. It was stunningwonderful to see farflung family, share hugs and stories, smiles, kisses, a coupla dance steps, and yes, even some food. In fact, got there in time to skarf down some shrimp before my Shrimp Lovin’ Cousin arrived — after that it was dueling napkins all the way.

    Magic Trick: amazing how the “children” are either having, have had, or are getting ready to have children of their own, and how what used to be our fabled Kids’ Table has managed to slip into GrandparentElder Table status without our even noticing. Without the mirror of each other’s faces, we’d never have known.

   Took a walk on the beach yesterday to celebrate unexpected survival, beyond amazing. The sun had just set, the sky was still suffused with pink-peach layers of twilight in the west with a thin smudgy line of blue cloudhover, while the moon, already high, cast silver and white chipped ice spangles all over the eastern edge of ocean. The daylit west water was peacock glamoured in shades of cerulean, ultramarine and prussian blue wildly cast over indigo deeps, a peachy iridescent shimmer still glancing sheer over the swells. Could hardly breathe for the beauty of it.

Imagine how charmed the moon must have been to be so high and round and full, and for once get to see the glorious remnants of the day spread out all over the watery world!

Many, many thanks.

Ugh… woke to bloat! Dread! Was down two pounds after one week (even being very very bad on program) and was thrilled but won’t be that lucky this week as have pushed the envelope, or the waistband, whatever, unless I can get under control enough from now till Thursday to weigh in without getting pissed at self.  I almost passed on weighing in last week, thinking I’d gained — had been diddling program in a ridiculously irresponsible way, even sinking to having two huge wheat beers at the UBS dinner at The Public House (famous for beer) in Southampton, and this week was WAY worse. Pizza, cereal, bread bread and bread. Grrr. (R, I hear ya)

    Oh well, it’s motivated me to do better next week. I did make a stab at being sensible, even made some sorta-tacos without the taco thingie:  made some well-browned turkey-burgers (with Knorr veg. soup, an egg, some bread crumbs, and a lot of seasoning), then layered them on the plate with black beans, a little salsa, chopped onions, a bit of cheddar, and non-fat sour cream. Was good and filling, and completely on program. Delicious.

My WW buddy, L. was down almost a pound last week. We even did our workout at Curves together before the WW meeting — can you beat that? We’re sooo motivated! Har — as if. Given a break in the weather (cool rain today), we’ll walk from the meeting to Curves and back, about a mile each way.

Off to laundry and cleaning chores again, and then a Raku firing or two. Perfect day for indoor work.

🙂

had a lovely family here this past weekend, a Mom, a Dad, three adorable, charming, and well-behaved little girls, and a truly great dog. We all liked each other right from the start and that feeling deepened as we took a walk with our dogs together, the little girls busy keeping the dogs busy, lots of running and laughing and tail wagging. They spent some of the weekend in the garden — the girls just loved the hammock and the berms, played hide-and-seek for hours, wore the dogs right out. Nice for the parents that it’s so well fenced in and secure that they could let their kids and dog play without worry — made me feel so good.

The second night, we took them all out for pizza and had a great time — couldn’t believe how well the girls handled waiting for and then sharing food, so nice to see kids loving and helping each other, and making intelligent, thoughtful conversation with adults. It’s usually only European kids who are so charmingly well-mannered. When we got home we shared a bottle of wine by the fireplace, while the kids drifted around in their pjs and finally off to sleep. Turns out the Dad has had some pretty serious health issues, so they’re all into having seriously great times together while they can. For a young family, seems to me this is an astonishing feat.

     Next morning I took them all to The Walking Dunes for a short hike, which they loved (hard not to love the Walking Dunes, an amazing place), and then said goodbye. They drove west back into their real lives, and I headed east to Montauk to help a friend fix her kiln. Did my workout at Curves and then came home to a  very empty house, the downside of running a happy B&B — you end up really missing your guests when they go.

 Such a strange day with rain, hail, clear patches, silver gray skies, wind tossed clouds, more rain, more hail, everything glistening.Had to go to the eye doctor (beware bacterial hotbeds in mascaras! Only wear the stuff every three or four months, but never again) and as there was the usual 20 minute wait I took a walk in all those amazing weathers. Someone with a thick finger had written “BUSTER” in the wet cement of the sidewalk so long ago the maple beside it had heaved it up and designed a clever crack between the S and the T, giving the name a more emphatic quality I found specially ingratiating. I suspect the subject of the inscription has long since passed on but am glad there was someone who loved him enough to cement his name into the Southampton landscape for generations, maple trees notwithstanding.

There was a young woman engaged in a heated cell phone argument with someone hugely looming in her life. Slender and sleek, she had multi-colored strands of hair tied back with a brown plaid scrunchie, pencil thin eyebrows, black nailpolish, and a pierced nostril, and was as indifferent to the weather as a lamppost. I wondered briefly what she would look like in twenty years. She smiled as I passed, then went back to her argument.

The doctor is a sweetie, does a lot of really wonderful volunteer work with the opposite end of the spectrum from mine — he works with young people, I work with the elderly, but our concerns about the world and how our charges are treated are similar. We got my eye infection sorted out along with the slight protein accumulation causing a visual dip in my right eye, shared a few stories, and parted for another year, fates willing.

Made the mistake of stopping into TJMaxx where I was set upon by two of the prettiest and softest throws I’ve ever seen (a zebra stripe and a leopard print) on sale for $15 each which are now snugged home with me, along with a promise not to set foot in there again for another six months.

The great treasure of the morning was a pair of phone calls from a couple of very good friends — you know who you are — it was a real pleasure to hear your delightful voices and please know, I feel terrifically buoyed and reassured.

All in all, a blessing.

Thanks especially to Buster.

: )

big day today: a reporter from a Big Deal BigCity newspaper is coming out to interview us and take a look around the farm for the Chimp Project article, so was busy all morning cleaning up, not as easy as it was before The Hip but not too bad, even with five amazingly dirt-generating dogs. Guests checked in today too, so took them and their lovely Irish Wolfhound for walkies with my (surprisingly well-behaved) pack. Have finally managed to train them to wait when I open the car door until I call each name, and then they come out one at a time instead of an ungainly writhing heaving mass.  And they stayed within range the whole time, turning on a dime when hearing their names called and coming to heal as if they’d been good little angels all their lives. Har! Who were they fooling, I wonder?

   The woods around the farm look so washed and shining after the incredible wind and rain of the storm, nice to be out frolicking in the sun after yesterday’s wet slog on the wild beach. F. must be having a great golf day out in montauk. We’re both always amazed at how gorgeous the weathers are, especially out here with the woods and the beaches, the ocean and the bays. Can’t imagine living anywhere else. Hope the reporter likes it here and writes a knockout article so my friend can rescue those chimps.

   Had an email from another friend fretting over what to get people for Christmas already — “Too soon!” my brain yelled to my stomach, “No Christmas baking yet or you’ll end up as stuffed as the turkey!” Have visions of kourabiedes cooling on the window ledge and racks of sunflower oat breads browning in the oven, waiting to be wrapped and delivered — love the kneading and the smells and the fun but the calories — on gawd not YET! Maybe I’ll bake a small batch of bread tomorrow.

  Focus on the day — back to cleaning up — there are still stacks of books and magazines and newspapers everywhere.

 How is everyone’s Sunday?

 someone mentioned to me that a character (whose postings I never read) in the message board said I looked 70 years old. Judging from the picture on one of the early pages of my blog I’m guessing she has me mixed up with my dear friend Carmen who is not 70, she’s 75, and a damned fine looking woman at any age. I wonder what group of people this blog-person hangs out with if she thinks I look 70 — that gave me a laugh, as I’ve been told what she herself looks like. And I wonder why looks seem so important to her that she thinks to wound me with such inanity, and why she finds me so important in her life that she feels the need to strike at me at every opportunity. I’m guessing her life must be pretty empty and angry and sad. If anyone has any insight into this really weird situation, please let me in on it.

Thanks, friends.

🙂