Sunday, June 03, 2012

Welcome to the Brickpile--

 The longest break I ever took between journal entries was after Julia's birth; nothing had, I guess prepared me for the stresses of parenthood and so, on paper, a kind of magic occurs (cue literary present tense):  It is autumn; I am pregnant with my first child and then--in the next entry--same volume (different ink), it is spring. I have become, abruptly, the mother of four children, aged two through eight, living in a different house, in a different town, and with a whole new set of pets. Eight years has passed.

This I tell myself to remember that I've lapsed before, dropped out of sight before, lost the threads of the story a time or two--not so bad, no big deal--right? And it's a blog, not a diary. As the archive sez: "That was then; this is now." 

So...that garishly piebald brick extravaganza at the top of the page is my new for-the-past-two-years house. Circa 1977--and looks it. Wait 'til you see the basement.
Some elements are perennial, of course: the concrete fleurs-de-lis (three of them--or, I guess, trois), for example, salvaged by Bruce from the slag-heap of a razed Catholic church, have now accompanied me to their seventh house, and are guarding cilantro and lovage in the back garden.

There's a vegetable garden, of course. Summer squash, peppers and tomatoes are coming along. I've been remiss in the lettuce department, but it's been a hellish year; I'm catching up.

There are cats (also trois), walls, (new) roof--believe me, you'll soon know more than you ever ever wanted to.  And this new!new!new!edition is going to have pages, too for some recipes and art and interviews and what-have-you.  That's it for now--thanks for hanging in and showing up.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

I'll Sing You This November Song

November is my favorite month: scruffy, five o'clock-shadowy, open-skied and wind-blasted,. No one apostrophises it (--or do they? Has anyone?--there is a poetic research project for you, Margaret), but O! November, you are the best month for walking and crow watching! Here, Wingy's feral cousin emerges from the shade of the butterfly bushes.
--and what must be absolutely the last rose--a windblown Buff Beauty.

November lettuce--tucked in at night with old bedsheets against the frost.
a close-up of Florina--still green. Apple leaves do not behave like pear leaves, which turn chocolate-color and curl into little cylinders--botanical Madeleines. I used to love that, in Michigan. maybe it is too warm here...
This is a Monticello snowberry bush. In the summer, it has pastel golden-green leaves and looks fey, astral and out-of-place; so much more arresting in November, after frost has banished its leaves and tarnished its stems.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Everything is Sumo....

Now if only he could grade papers!

The eternally moving "object of view" at Club 13 these days. A few recent highlights: Sumo "in the hood..." Yes, he loves being up in the air, whether riding in my down hoodie, or on Drew's shoulder, or just being babied. Note also moments of near detente w/Stan...

Thursday, October 02, 2008


New little wild Siamese Sumo relaxes at home with his best friend and soulmate Wingy. Check out the stripey points and crazed stare.

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

Mt. Washington Redux: July 4th, 2008

Unlike our previous visit (wind gusts to 50 mph, visibility 35 ft.), this was a flawlessly clear day--a view of five states, and an unnerving view, too, of just how high up we were riding...

Like all intrepid tourists, we cannot resist being photographed at the summit: "I claim this mountaintop!"

At the top of the mountain: the Weather Observatory, the famous and picturesque train (Drew talking to engineer) and Marty, the Observatory cat!

Here Drew prepares the bike for the brake-punishing trip back down the mountain.