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| Cooperstown Public Library |
The last post ended with a recap of whirlwind activities involving my new book, a train ride across the country, my 50th college reunion. Soon after that reunion Bill and I drove to Buffalo for Thanksgiving. On Sunday we planned a leisurely drive across the state to Cooperstown, to spend a night there as we had done a few times before. Unfortunately a storm was also planned for that day. We thought to ourselves, how bad could it be? Well, it was pretty daunting, took us all day to reach the turnoff for Cooperstown, the thruway full of cars creeping along in slush, our windshields pelted with pellets of frost. At the turnoff it was already dark. And a steep hill was on our route, unbeknownst to us the rather locally famous "Vickerman Hill." Cars to the right of us, cars to the left of us had spun out, but my Volvo soldiered on, only balked once, steady pressure to the gas and we made it to the top. I am becoming an accomplished winter driver. Still not there yet, though, another hour or two when it normally would have taken less than an hour. And minimal visibility, luckily very few cars on the road. We finally reached our destination, an old Victorian in Cooperstown, the Landmark Inn, and were fortunate one restaurant in town was still open, Mel's at 22, and it was warm and cozy with delicious food. The b&b let us stay an extra night of course, who else would be coming with several feet of snow? So we darted in to the Cooperstown Baseball Hall of Fame the next day (we had to take turns because parking seemed to be prohibited everywhere...). We discovered Alex's World Bistro for a late lunch, then ordered takeout for our dinner back at the room (a bottle of wine purchased at the liquor store next door...seems liquor stores never close in inclement weather). So this is rather a long-winded description of a two-day event. Not to worry, there won't be much to relate for the next series of months...
I seem to remember a reading the Cools gave at the New Brunswick Public Library, and Gretna, Maxine and I having a great pizza lunch afterwards. That was March 7. Then the world started closing in. The pandemic had arrived. Events began to be cancelled. Frances Mayes' reading in Doylestown. Gray Jacobik's long-anticipated reading at the FDR library in Hyde Park. Bill and I navigated getting groceries delivered, and ordering takeout from places that allowed us to pick up at the curb. Masks acquired. The kindness of neighbors, some of whom shopped for us when online delivery was interrupted.
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My great great grandfather Patrick Henry Rafter
becomes a citizen |
Staying home is not as difficult for old people like us who are somewhat introverted and like to spend time on the Internet. I finished an article that I sent off to my editor at the Genealogical Magazine of New Jersey. Threw away bags of papers, files, photos. Started more genealogical research. Wrote some poems. Was
interviewed by the Guilford Poets Guild. Zoomed with my poetry friends, Gilmanton folks, Bill's family in Buffalo.
But watched in horror as the president of our country seemed to become a more and more frightening and dangerous individual. And George Floyd was murdered. That is where this blog is at this point in time, June 2020. People rising up. So many helpful commentators. Trevor Noah, for example, on the social contract. What good does it do, he asked, if the people in charge have broken the social contract, why should the oppressed continue to obey it?
Bill and I plan to go to New Hampshire in late July. That is about the sum of things here. Be well and stay stafe. And listen to the voices of change. What do we want, justice. When do we want it, now.
