4.20.2018

home again


4.18.2018

brooklyn, again

 Yes, this is the Brooklyn Bridge, headed towards Brooklyn. Just want to put that on the record, since I get so many complaints. Yes, I had a ride. Ed kindly came to fetch me (and some hundred volumes of books I was offloading).
 After lunch at Ed's usual place, I wanted to go for local color. He said there was a former Korean nail salon that had doubled as a house of prostitution and was now a bar/restaurant. The new owner had decided to own the heritage.
  And how! We were escorted to the back room, a boudoir with black satin seating and a bed. What the heck, Ed's foot needs elevating anyway. Everyone else who walked into the back room backed out hastily, except the bartender who was happy to shimmer in with shrimp and, um, cocktails.


4.16.2018

stormy weather

After listening to the bullets of rain and the lightening and the sirens and the crashes, probably of trash cans blowing into cars, all night, and the blat of flooding alert warnings on my phone, and the word that the Block Island ferry was cancelled for the second day, I changed my NYC-PVD train reservation to Wednesday and went back to bed. And when Lynn Brown sent this pic of the seas on the mainland, where she is stuck at the moment, it was certainly clear why the boat isn't running.

4.13.2018

not all work

The last meetings are today, and we leave tomorrow ayem. But don't be thinking that all we do is go to banks and lawyer's offices. Yesterday we went to La Gruta, a hot springs paradise where you can eat, drink and swim in pools of varying degrees—the hottest being in a dome with skylights. I am told that the gringas of San Miguel used to have nude swims there under the full moon. Perhaps they still do. All I know it is has been 20 years since my mother went! We kept our suits on, however, as did everyone else. At ne point it rained, and it was amazing to see the steam rise off the pools.

4.12.2018

casa de abuelita

 Our tenant invited us in to see the changes she had made to our house. She hadn't made many—mostly just moved furniture around. The poinsettias were blooming their heads off in the garden, and the monsteras were still monstrous. Barbara, the tenant, owns the casita down the street where we are staying, as well as a hotel and a lot of other properties. The house was shining thanks to Rosio's care, and everybody seems happy. Rosio has stopped hearing my mother's voice calling her from the bedroom.

4.11.2018

animals

 This is the first time I've seen a Weimaraner at a botanica. I had gone to fetch the tepezcohuite (mimosa bark) ointment that many friends favor for freshening aging skin, and there was the guard dog. She sat silently, occasionally gazing out through the doorway to solemnly regard passersby.
  The parrots, however, were not so silent, particularly once they recognized me as the sister of the man who always gives them peanuts.

4.10.2018

destination wedding

 San Miguel has become the place for weathy city people to hold destination weddings. I have seen as many as three in one day, with throngs and processions of guests and musicians. Yesterday, however, was a very private one—the bride and groom and their photographers, going selfies one better. It's likely that the actual wedding is taking place in another venue, and this was just one of many satellite shoots.

4.09.2018

virgin's hideaway

Hang a left at the Virgin de Guadlupe in the alley, and you will find our casita, behind the near invisible door in the shadows. Inside is Barbe's Secreto, a pocket garden with an ancient chinaberry tree and other hardy plants that can withstand the heat of the sun and the desert dry.
  We had a great time yesterday at La Gruta, a hot springs resort outside town, with Rosio and family. Today we begin the work of trying to sort through the bureaucracy of inheritance. We will know more after a meeting with a lawyer this ayem.

4.05.2018

a couple snaps

 And flashback to last Sunday, when it was Easter. Here is Milla in a dress designed by Hannah for herself when she was a child and sewn by my mother, I believe. Meanwhile, Barb (below) took one look and said Milla appeared to be a homeschooled fundamentalist Christian. However Barb herself got into the Easter spirit and dyed eggs.

4.03.2018

flashback

 It must be an age thing. Seems like everybody I know has been going through books and photographs and reaching out to old friends. Laura, a friend from college, sent me some pix of the two of us in Kauai. Which in turn set me to calling old friends in Kauai. And then, of course, to thinking how much I wished I was in Kauai Right Now!
At Lumahai beach with Hannah and Sam.
How about that water, huh! That's where the river goes across the sand to the Pacific.

4.02.2018

who are these people?


 They live in a tatty blue velvet covered album. All but a couple loose pictures were made at Sparhawk's Studio in West Randolph, Vt. The people seem to be of an era and mostly of a generation,  so I wonder whether this album was like a look book for the studio. In any case, this is one of the perils of cleaning up my bookcases. I checked on eBay and there is one similar photograph for sale. Then I emailed the Randolph Historical Society to see if they might want it. It would have been far easier to consign these folk to the dumpster.  I just couldn't.

3.30.2018

holydaze

Easter bonnet, Block Island, 2017

Egg hunt, Block Island, 2017
Often, we're in Block Island for Easter. But this year with the holidays (yes, tonight begins Pesach) coming early, the houses aren't opened up yet.
   So the scene is happening in Providence, with egg dying today (below) (am I wrong or do these look like organic vegetable dyes?) and my sister's Pagan Easter celebration in Massachusetts on Sunday. I will noncelebrate in NY.
    I am assuming you know all about rabbits and eggs and fertility and rebirth and Spring, so I won't explain any of that again. Hippety hop!

Eggs, Good Friday, Providence 2018