Person of the week

It is the day before Christmas. So many things to be thankful for. My dear husband Bill. Friends and family. The Guilford Poets Guild. Our new anthology, which turned out so well. And the wonderful writer for the Guilford Courier, Pam Johnson, who decided I would make a suitable "person of the week." Such a nice welcome for a new resident. You can read about it here.

book angst over

The anthology, part and parcel of my dreams and untold waking hours as well, has just been signed, sealed and delivered to our door. Looks great, its lovely design, the poems lifting off the page with their authors floating in luminous gray, Richard smiling at us, Katrina at the window, the misty Grass Island scene on the cover, the whimsical bicycle holding up the rear, and all those wonderful poems people submitted beginning way last March, early this year. On display here, the postcard, send them out!

It seems we just got back home from Gilmanton, for Thanksgiving. Dinner at Heather's, a lovely walk around the Beaver Pond with Mark, Bill, Cocoa, Tyler and his friend Sofia. And now we're going back again for Joe's 80th birthday party. After the book launch party. Hmmm, have to fit in thinking about Christmas presents, cards, a tree. I'm sure it will all work out. After Christmas we're taking the train down to D.C. to spend a few days with Karen, Fede and the girls. And then back to NYC, a bridge event for Bill, visiting museums for me. Well, he might get to go to a few museums, too, I'm sure we can work that out too!

Before we know it, it will be 2010. The year 10. No more oughts. The century is gathering speed. All those things we did when we were young seem so long ago. But, just as they explain about the brain, those memories are solid, it's the things that happened last week that are first to go. Hopefully, not all of them.

California Dreaming

At the end of our trip to California, we took my sister to Joan's on Third in the Fairfax area of LA, it was my birthday brunch. The sign holders here were a little upset with me when I snapped their picture, but it was so nostalgic to see folks like that, so earnest, on the street corner. Other eating adventures were at Fraiche in Culver City and Nicole's in South Pasadena. We walked all over the Arboretum in Arcadia, a whirlwind tour since we only had about 40 minutes--the wind was indeed whirling that day, too.

We started out the trip in San Jose, stopping at La Pastaia for a yummy dinner. Met with different poetry friends, and then my 40th reunion at Stanford started up. Friends from Italy XIV joined us at almost every event, and we wound up eating with them at a special dinner Sat. night in Mountain View at Vaso Azzurro. I met a really nice fellow from the class of '54 who put me in touch with some of his classmates who remembered my brother Bruce. He was interested in researching the houses of Gustav Laumeister in Palo Alto and by some coincidence I shared with him the fact that I had written a paper on Laumeister for Palo Alto Stanford Heritage. I mailed it to him this week.

California seemed a little arid, and how come it was so warm in October? I brought all the wrong clothes again although I did wear my coat once, I think. Nice to come back to beautiful Connecticut, there were even a few leaves on the trees for us to see. And a conference on John Brown to attend at Yale. A full calendar ahead of us.

Twas brillig

October has arrived and the leaves are slowly turning into their new, bright selves. We've been going to New York a lot. One trip early in September was because, mon dieu, I remembered the James Ensor show was almost over. So off we went to the South Street Seaport (the exhibit of Dutch New York), on the way discovering a cool lunch spot named Resto (it's Belgian and I shoulda had the beer, but the hamburger and frites were delishious), and finished off the day at the MOMA Ensor exhibit. The printed material suggested Ensor's love of masks and weird costumes of course came about because of his family's souvenir store in Ostende. I was lucky to have visited there in 2002 (the James Ensorhuis). Our trip down and back in one day was pretty exhausting.

The next day I was in the Guilford Citizens Parade--twice! Well, I mean the Friends of the Library let me march with them--actually I sat in a haywagon and held up picture books as we rode by the crowds. And since the Friends haywagon was early on in the parade, when that was done I leapt down and ran to see the rest of the entries. So when the Guilford Peace Alliance came by, Edwina, Greg, Gwen and Norm marching prominently with their signs, I joined them, too. Was thinking some of the folks by the side of the road would be scratching their heads--wasn't that woman on the library haytruck earlier in the parade?

Paid for all this activity, came down with a baad cowd. But a week later we went back down to NY again, this time staying overnight to pamper ourselves. The main event was the opening of the Poets House new building near Battery Park on the Hudson. A sunny day and the lineup of poets reading was impressive: Mark Doty, Marie Howe, Philip Levine, Billy Collins, Galway Kinnell, among others. We met up with Gwen and Norm and one of Gwen's painting friends--we ate tapas together at Boqueria.

In between these trips the sun shone brightly during the month, and I discovered the walk at the end of Neck Road (the street that starts in Madison and ends up in Guilford). The beach skirts the edge of the Sound and lands you at the red shack on Grass Island. And the nice thing about it is that even though it's an "island," you don't have to cross any water to get there!

Will have more of New York starting again soon, next weekend it's back to Open House New York, trekking about various neighborhoods, sneaking into some of the most interesting buildings in NY. Til then.

The long unique summer

Lots of rain in the early summer. Got to the town beach by mid-July, then we were off to Gilmanton, it seemed. Jumped into Drew Farm life with Jenny, Phil, Frano, Clare and Lucy. Craziness all day it seemed! The kids loved the "bored sheepherder" video on youtube--we had to play it at least once a day. When the kids went back to Buffalo it was verrrrry quiet. We picked up toys here and there, arranged furniture, brought out all the wine and sherbet glasses, relished the warmer weather. By our last week it was almost summer again!

The Rock Party was a beautiful afternoon again, and this year we got down to the bottom before the moskeets got us. Bill and I drove Frano home--a deer leapt in front of our car but made it across 140. Jay and Alaiyo, newlyweds, were adorable. I tried to help teach Alaiyo to swim. She who could probably hike 4 miles before I even got started was having a hard time catching on. Must be difficult to learn to swim as an adult. The Listening party at the Hottels was memorable as usual, this year it was Carmen. I found myself voting for Maria Callas but dissing Placido Domingo. And I was in the minority--che strano! Down in Guilford for a few days, catching up with mail, two poetry meetings within three days, firming up our anthology plans. Then back up by train to Boston, by bus to Concord. More silken water to float around in. One day we hiked through a cornfield and drove over to Pittsfield (see photo of dam in downtown Pittsfield).

I'm writing this in Northampton, Mass. where we've returned after 14 years, staying again at the Autumn Inn, and eating at the same good restaurant, India House. Last night the weather was perfect, the town lively, we found a good bookstore and a place that served great espresso and gelato to us 4 minutes before they closed. Earlier in the day we strolled along the old avenues of Historic Deerfield. This morning it will be Emily Dickinson, her house, her life, then on to the poetry of horses getting serious in the paddock--before they strike out on the track at Saratoga.

Home from Green Spain

We've just come home from Spain. My Bill's twisted knee kept us from going to Santiago de Compostela and Portugal, so our vacation was 3 weeks instead of 4, but all pleasurable. In Madrid on the first night of our trip we found the loveliest neighborhood centered around the Plaza de la Paja. An oasis of calm in a busy city, folks sitting out in their lovely plaza, nearby the roses of the Jardin del Principe de Anglona, and the comfy permanent armchairs set into the pavement of the Plaza de Alamillo, where we ate the most exquisite Mexican food at the Taqueria del Alamillo. And the next afternoon and evening I was able to take Bill to one of my favorite places from my visit in 1984--the small city of Aranjuez where we heard a wonderful concert in the Royal Chapel of the Palacio Real.

We had a great time visiting with Ruthie and Eddie in Valencia and Denia, where they have their beach home. Then we headed north to Zaragoza and finally to San Sebastian, the place we enjoyed so much in 2003, and which didn't disappoint us. We got to know more neighborhoods this time, the Antigua and the Gros neighborhoods. It rained for 3 days but we didn't care. Falling asleep at night hearing the waves was blissful. And we went back to the Museo Chillida Leku, another oasis of green.

Bilbao was a much more interesting city than we expected. We had 2 nights there instead of the 1 night we had planned, as we had to regroup once Bill had messed up his knee. We especially enjoyed our lunches at the nearby Cafeteria Henao, which was not a cafeteria in the American sense of the word, more like a classy businessman's bar, with terrific food served at tables with white tablecloths.

Once we were able to rent an automatic vehicle for slopoet to drive, we set out into the countryside, lunch in the amiable village of Comillas, stops at the beach of the Oyambre, landing for 3 nights at the Posada del Valle in Collia, a little paradise in the foothills of the Picos. One day we spent at the beach where Bill partook of fabada and I had shrimps, garlic and "gulas"--these tasted like noodles, except that I figured out later the noodles were really...baby eels, or maybe not. Even further checking reveals that baby eels (angulas) are actually quite rare, but that "gulas" are processed fish pressed into spaghetti form. All scrumptious whatever it was. The next day we drove up to Covadonga, where a basilica commemorates the warrior Pelayo's victory over the Moors--the setting was really breathtaking.

Our last adventure was to stay one night in Oviedo, a most beautiful city with clean streets, lovely plazas and parks, and whimsical sculptures (of Woody Allen, for example), as well as more serious historical ones, at practically every few 100 feet. A woman taxi driver drove us up above the city to see the two very ancient churches (both built in the 9th century), San Miguel del Lillo and Santa Maria del Naranco. And I joined thousands of soccer fans in the town square cheering on the local team (Real Oviedo) with blue balloons, bagpipers, accordionists, fireworks, and the singing of many songs, including the team's anthem, Oviedo Adelante!

Soon we were back in Madrid and flying home to scruffy Queens. The United States, almost a backwards country, old trains and buses very unlike Spain's sparkling new equipment. But our home in Guilford is welcoming, and Bill's knee is mending. Nice to be back.

New friend gone

I remember being brand-new to Guilford, and our friend Pam Carley introduced me to poet Richard Tietjen at an R.J. Julia reading. A short time later I discovered the Stony Creek Market, was sitting outside having a tuna melt and heard "Sharon!" It was Richard with his hiking friend Gemma Mathewson. They told me about the trolley trail, and the white circle trail on which they had just walked in from Highway 146. Soon I would be joining Richard with other members of the Guilford Poets Guild for our twice-monthly workshops and monthly readings. I stood with Richard on several Saturdays with the Guilford Peace Alliance on the Guilford Green. He had been battling lymphoma for 14 years and seemed so resilient, a hardy walker, a special man with a brilliant mind. Recently he had been experiencing high fevers and was eventually diagnosed with leukemia. Early on the morning of April 20 he passed away peacefully, surrounded by friends and family. I've been looking at his photos and reading many of his poems. Here is one to share:

Right now

Happiness is what I want
to tell you about.
The getting and having,
the measuring.

Here:
Live in the same place for five years
watch the cars on the road
wash your dishes in the morning
and try to see
you will never get another chance
to be all-knowing, powerful, and wise.

Living won’t always make you happy
but when you are
you’ll know why

West Acworth, 1983

What happened to February and March?

We came back home from California and soon had a visit from Jenny, Phil, Frano, Clare and Lucy. Had a memorable day in Mystic, and some nice visits to Stony Creek and Chaffinch Island State Park. Bill and I went on a field trip to Norwich. We stopped for brunch at the Griswold Inn in Essex, and then arrived in Norwich for a tour of the Perkins-Rockwell house, the current home of the local D.A.R. As the woman asked, which family is your husband descended from, the Perkins or the Rockwells? The answer was, well, both. We also went to Yantic Cemetery where all the Perkins and Rockwells were buried. In late afternoon towards sunset we arrived in Stonington for a lovely dinner at Noah's. Stayed overnight at Mystic, when you're retired, why drive back home? Breakfast at Kitchen Little in Mystic, then good strong lattes at the Leaf and Bean in New London. What's not to like?

Towards the end of March we went down for the day to Manhattan, took in the exquisite Bonnard show at the Met. Dinner at vegetarian Candle Cafe, then train back home. May have to buy that catalog, Pierre Bonnard, what an eye for beauty.

Finally met Carl Balestracci, our first selectman, after Bill and I, severely under-dressed for a brisk winter's day, held up the Guilford Peace Alliance banner during an hour-long V.A. event on the Green. A few days later Nancy, Gordon and Andrea helped me put up my poem "Guilford Song" and a few of my photos in the new Poets Corner glass case in the Guilford Town Hall. Will be up five weeks until the end of April.

Waiting for the Dive

It feels like we are standing beside a large pool, waiting to dive in. We've been in California since January 13, and every day almost has been in the 60s or 70s with blue skies. In a few days we will return to our home in Guilford. We just have to be brave enough to dive into the pool...of cold weather, that is! We think the worst is over. We didn't really expect there would be single digit temps this month while we were gone. Doesn't seem fair to our new friends to even mention where we've been this month. We'll just have to slip into the cold water and start paddling along with the flow.


Our friend Margaret got us situated in her apartment on Nob Hill for the first week. We got bus passes and jumped on buses and cable cars like we were residents, but at all times of day like we were visitors. I won't say tourists. We got library cards, went to Sausalito by ferry, roamed around Russian Hill and North Beach. Ate well (we especially recommend Boulange de Polk and Boulange de Hayes--twins). Then we skipped down to Palo Alto in our rental car (after making sure Obama got sworn in). The poetry group welcomed me back like a prodigal daughter. Technical Services has two new catalogers--yay! I used Bistro Maxine for my power lunching/business meetings. We met Riley over at the Stanford Museum. He had to choose 10 items in the Stanford Family room and write about them. It was all I could do to keep my mouth shut and let him do his notes (I love those kinds of assignments!).

Flying south made my incipient cold worse, but we were picked up by my sister, her husband, and Vanilla, their special dog. On to Emerald Bay! More insults to our eastern friends. Brilliant skies, walks on the beach. Erika and Grace came to stay the night--we had pizza and apfelskivvers and played Monopoly. Then we drove up to San Marino Sunday night. Back to the stomping grounds of my childhood. Went to the LA County Art Museum (exhibit about the Two Germanys after WWWII) entirely by public transportation! Today we're planning to go to the Huntington Library, I want to see an exhibit on the history of science.

Home soon. Snow and ice. And the comforts of home. Should be great!!

Beginnings

New presences. Smoky the cat plunging through the snow on his daily route, leaving his deep prints. White-throated sparrow's unique song: Old Sam Peabody, Peabody, which I found at random by punching in numbers in the Audubon book/audio-player. Five clicks and I got the one I had heard on the way home from the mailboxes. It's a mournful tune which starts high, then drops, then follows with some short, bursts.

At the end of 2008 we spent two nights in NY, saw an embroidery exhibit at Bard College, heard a lovely Early Music concert at St. Bartholomew's. Then we continued by train to DC to check in with Karen, Fede, Elena and Marina, a lively crew. Marina is a princess, as she insists by donning various regal outfits. She is only two but most of the time knows what she wants. Elena just turned five, but she shows much wisdom beyond her years.

At the end of 2007 I was inputting all the books I own into librarything.com. 942 books. A sort of obsessive-compulsive thing. Then somebody told me about goodreads.com. On this one you put in all the books you've READ (get it? not the same group...!). That was two days ago, I think. 816 books. More obsession! More fun!

Shortly before the end of 2008 I heard the peabody, I mean the white-throated sparrow. And wrote a poem about him/her. Seems a good way to start the year. With a poem.

Thoughts of the White-Throated Sparrow

Our song is Poor Sam Peabody Peabody in the US but Oh Sweet Canada, Canada across the border. I know it sounds like we are thinking too hard,starting out with a moody rumination, then switching downward in pitch,as if one idea led to another, ohhh no, what was I thinking of? They say we are abundant but declining over much of the breeding range. Must be the fault of those juncos, Mr. Dark Eyes. Spend a little time with one of them and your children will be hybrids, grayish, dully-marked, no yellow lores, those splashes of face paint below the eyes, no white throat either, and how would we look for them in the dark? Best stick with our kind, tan stripes are our thing, easy to spot in the hedgerows. Ohhh, where did I leave my shopping list? Ohhh sweetgum-amaranth-chickweed. Ohhh you with the bike-helmeted head. Ohhh who is this Sam Peabody, Peabody?