Two weeks ago, my mechanic said:
“I don’t know why you brought your car in for an a/c service. The a/c is working just fine. However, you need new front brakes, which will be $700 and repairs on the power steering, which will be $2,000.”
I was too stunned to hold up my end of the conversation. (more…)
I would like, to begin with, to say that though parents, husbands, children, lovers and friends are all very well, they are not dogs. In my day and turn having been each of the above, — except that instead of husbands I was wives, — I know what I am talking about, and am well acquainted with the ups and downs, the daily ups and downs, the sometimes almost hourly ones in the thin-skinned, which seem inevitably to accompany human loves.
Dogs are free from these fluctuations. Once they love, they love steadily, unchangingly, till their last breath.
That is how I like to be loved.
Therefore I will write of dogs. (more…)
Lady Writing a Letter by Albert Edelfelt, 1887
Even with all the quick and snappy ways of keeping in touch with friends and family – texts, emails, video calls – I have never given up writing letters. Real, physical letters that you stuff in an envelope and slap a stamp on.
Originally, I had thought of calling this blog “Letters at Breakfast” because it has always been my fantasy to have a voluminous correspondence. I dreamed of coming down to breakfast and finding a pile of letters at my plate. That this would mean acquiring 1) a cook to prepare the breakfast, 2) a house parlor maid to set the table and put the letters at my place, 3) a postman to deliver the morning mail by 7:30 or 8 a.m., and 4) friends and family to engage in this back and forth letter writing, are mere incidentals. As for the blog title, the posts would have been my letters in return. (more…)
The porch hallway after being stripped
Apparently, you don’t actually need a pump sprayer and a power washer to strip a porch floor and railings. Tools on hand, if they include a plastic pail, a paint brush, a scrubbing brush and a garden hose are just fine. It helps if you are single-minded and a bit crazy, but it is probably not essential.
In a way it is unfortunate that this project ended with such satisfactory results. It will do nothing to stop my delusion that I can do anything with the junk lying about the cellar and garage, and I will continue to dive into things best left to the professionals. (more…)
Back porch on its way to becoming leprous.
Because 1) my thoughts on the state of the Commonwealth, Country and World are not printable; 2) I haven’t assembled any thoughts on another book commentary; 3) I haven’t been anywhere beyond the back garden to write about; 4) The Moose is working from home and so unable to provide me with any comic relief; and 5) it is past time for another post, I thought I would just offer a peek into what is going on here in lockdown in the middle of nowhere.
I can sum it all up by saying that I am having a A Very Hungry Caterpillar week. (more…)
The troublesome garlic mustard.
It was an almost warm, dry winter. It is now a cold, wet spring. As I type this, on April 27, it is raining and 38 degrees. Adding to the general specialness of the day, there is a hard northeast wind blowing.
The garden flowers may be hesitating until it gets a little warmer, but the weeds are out and about. Over the past few weeks, I have spent a lot of time attempting to get these prolific, shameless intruders under control. When one is on one’s knees in the dirt, one has a lot of time for thoughts and these are mine. (more…)
… I would have told you today about COVID 19 if we had been able to have a glass of wine and a salad together on the patio of a little neighborhood café.
Prologue: After lunch, as The Hunter left to go scouting for a good turkey hunting spot (the season opens next week), he asked what I was going to do.
I said: “I don’t know. Maybe write. I’m way past due for a blog post, but I’m not sure what to write about.”
He replied: “I should have thought that you would have had something to say about COVID 19 by now.” (more…)
The Moose scanning the Wall Street Journal before diving into his work for the day.
Now that The Moose is working from home, I have more time for stories that don’t begin A cow says moo, a sheep says baa, three singing pigs say la la la* or In the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf.** I even have the time to write a few. Here’s one: (more…)
Results from our afternoon of cooking
Every day that he is here, The Moose breezes into the kitchen and immediately starts pulling out “stuff.” Most days he starts with my grandmother’s glass juicer and an orange. He has to ask for a cup (because, even with a stool, cups are too high for him to reach; he has not tried climbing on the counters yet, although that is just a matter of time) and he has to ask me to slice the orange in half. Then he makes himself some freshly squeezed orange juice and chugs it down. (more…)
When he is in the truck, The Hunter almost always has on Sports Talk Radio. Over the years I have acquired quite the database of facts, trivia, stats and schedules. Listening to my cocktail chatter, you would almost think I am a sports fan.
Here in New England, for much of the year, the talk is all about the Patriots. Right now, as the Pats are not, most unusually for them, playing in the Super Bowl, the talk is all on the soon-to-be free agent Tom Brady: Will he stay? Will he go? The word is that he feels undervalued and under loved and wants a lot more money (more…)