Amanda came home Friday night. Ali took the train into the city to meet her. Later, that night Emma Tess showed us incredible pictures that she took during her trip. Oh yes, Ali and Emma arrived safely from their trip to London, Paris and Madrid. It was a relief to have them safe and sound - back home. Even exhausted they stayed up Thursday night and shared some stories before falling into a deep global trotting induced sleep. Joe was relieved their trip was over and admitted he did not suffer too much under my assumed and expected harshness and of course; the diverse meal suggestions. All in all it was an easy transition for us. I was aware I could not ask too much from them and would not make any concoctions which would involve gagging and sudden outburst of tears. It was a relatively safe ten days except for Joe spraining his wrist while sleighing. There were some chores which I asked from both Bella and Joe. So, both realized Dad is not that bad after all. Bella chipped in on the chores without prodding, breaking ice with me on the driveway, shoveling, and afterwards we had a nice walk around the block. I shared how my Grand Da would always insist when taking walks, take in a deep breath of air. “Breathe it all in, Mick, get it in the lungs. There…that’s good.” She loves to hear family stories. But anyway, Amanda was back for a bit, and left early this morning with my father-in-law Joe and Diana, taking the 7:30 ferry from Port Jefferson to Bridgeport. Yesterday, the six of us went to Patchogue, and had lunch in the Brick House and discussed summer plans, Adirondacks and Gettysburg....
After lunch Amanda and I took 27 out to Sag Harbor and walked out onto the dock, the wind was blowing mightily though it was a relatively mild day. We went into a record shop and I bought a copy of The Byrds (Untitled) and I will download it later. After that we drove to the end of Main to Canio’s Bookstore. I know what some of you are thinking, a record store and a bookstore in one day? Both types of stores are becoming scarce. The smell is sweet inside Canios; the decades of the decaying scent of yellowed pages and undisturbed dust. We drove out to see Scott Chaskey who was there reading from his new book. His new memoir is titled SEEDTIME (Rodale Books), and as he took the podium, he joked in front of the small audience - that he was a frustrated Shakespearean actor. He appeared to be an actor, weathered red face, white bearded character from one of William’s plays. I was there to hear and learn since I hope the book will inspire me; since I am leading a group of fellow gardeners at our church’s organic garden. All of the food will be donated to Middle Island food pantry. Scott was articulate, engaging and I wish he read more of his poetry which resonated within the cozy book store - which was packed. Above us a tenant walked on a creaking store, the distinct chimes from the rusty half-moon bells on the door, the whispers from an indiscreet conversation followed with a rush of ssshhh’s… If you were late to the reading, you could not get inside. I had the opportunity to meet Scott and suddenly my mind went blank. I tried to explain what we were doing at church and how the food will be donated, but the words were a struggle inside my blank brain. I think I was so impressed with the way Scott spoke that I felt - anything I would say would be a pale comparison. But Scott looked up at me with patient eyes as if to say, no need to speak you blubbering ignoramus; I will try to cultivate the words out from the deep soil of your dense mind…and he said, “Oh, you’re starting a garden or restarting a garden at your church and donating the food.” I nodded. He calmed me down and said I should contact the farm he works for - since they help organizations like ours. But there was little help for my speech deficiencies… He signed my book. Amanda and I walked into the Saturday night and witnessed the faint remnants of sun light cast itself over the calm Sag Harbor waters.
Thank you for reading this