2/23/14 09:26
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
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