Queasy on theboat, should return diwnstars, still feels wavy. Sign on dock said 2-3 feet andon the way from the pArking lot I asked a kid who just had gotten off the boat, "is it wavy?" he looked at me blankly. Not knowing whether he was foreign or just teenager, I made wave gestures with my hand and asked, "very wavy?" that sort of shook him out of his luggage-pulling stupor. "no,
not so bad." he managed a smile.
Now i know why he was smiling! He thought he was lulling the old lady with the weak stomach into a big queasy surprise later! I seemany people on the millenium with their Friday evening beers but not me until I get to cb's. Toste doesn't want to drive to OB and I don't blame her. I'm happy to take the #13 into tisbury (I had to call & ask Kid what number bus) to please toste and save her aggro. This means I'm the bringer for CB's byob cocktail party. When he called me to ask if I could also tote a $5 nonmerlot red (his request) I didn't feel too guilty sending him to the natural foods sectionof his local stopy's to puck mr up numerous cans of hanson to match my Kentucky whisky.
That doesn't sound so great now, the cocktail, as I sit on the fast ferry enduring oceanicswells and engine fumes. Earlier I went out on deck and the mad breeze exposed my belly to other ferry-goers so I daren't go
back outside. The teens in the row before me lull me with their pc viewing of a "friends" episode
forgive all typos and nonsense phrasing. I am using my iph and will edit later.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
just like i would expect
my fragile friend had a birthday this weekend and i wanted to make it as okay as i could for her. she was planning a gathering at her new house which had a nice yard. i went to visit there when the weather was just getting nice and we both wanted to sit around outside but she didn't have any yard chairs or things like that which allow the sitting of people. she brought out a blanket but i would have none of it. i find that i cannot put my body in a comfortable position without support. im old and weak and need a chair.
a couple of days before her birthday party i went over and hung out with her. she had two very nice green chairs in the yard. they were comfortable and attractive and i oohed and aahed. she told me that she had gotten birthday money from her mom and spent $30 each on the chairs. they were very attractive but i would never spend that much and i realized maybe that was why her house was so much nicer than mine, inside and out, because she would spend $30 on a lawn chair. while we sat in them it occurred to me that she might have more than one guest beside herself at her party. I hoped she would anyway. I wondered where they all would sit. the chairs inside her house were not easily carried out to the yard.
on the day of her party i decided i would try to buy a couple less expensive lawn chairs as a bday gift and bring a couple other less attractive chairs which were my own yard chairs to her house for the guests. i was somewhat proud of my decision and on the day of her party i headed in that direction with four lawn chairs in the car.
Husbear and I had plans to accomplish before her party started. there was another party we were to attend. when we got to this party it became clear that there were only two yard chairs there and already four adults. where was everyone going to sit? we took the chairs out of the car and shared them with this party for a couple hours. at one point the host noticed my white chair was, although dry, somewhat dirty with mold stains and discolorations. he brought out a clorox wipe and tried to clean it. he was able to lighten the seat a bit and i was a little chagrined by the experience. i had planned on cleaning the chair once i had arrived at my friend's party, when i first got there and no one was there but her and me. i had planned on doing it quickly so she wouldn't even notice that it had been dirty. but this guy beat me to it and i was so embarrassed that i made sure to sit in it the rest of the time so no one else would be subjected to the filth.
after we ate the best corn of western mass we gathered our four chairs and went to my friend's house, arriving two hours before she expected others to come. the Husbear left to meet with other people somewhere else, leaving us two, six lawn chairs, a dog and a house full of nice indoor chairs. we enjoyed each others company for hours, relaxing on the green chairs, sitting inside on the couch, occasionally sitting on my birthday gifts (but not often) and sitting on my dirty chair not ever. soon two other ladies showed up and we spent a while inside chatting and then we went outside and sat on her fun kiddie pool and then we played a little badminton. then, as we were all ready to begin the competitive game, Husbear appeared again, with two other fun people and we all milled about until slowly, everyone settled and sat on all the outdoor chairs except me. by the time i had helped everyone get a cocktail and brought some ginger ale out to Husbear all six chairs were spoken for: Husbear and birthday girl, two hot ladies and the cool traveling couple.
i felt a little sorry for myself. i had travelled many a mile carrying about chairs with the idea to help facilitate friends with parties. Not only helping my dear friend, who couldn't buy 6 $10 chairs for her party, but had to buy 2 $30 chairs for the chic factor but also helping some folks who i think are nice but whom i was helping out with the chairs just for the kindness and follow up karmic thank you but when the day was brought to the final sit down i had nothing but the awkward experience of dragging a heavy, falling apart, beat up kitchen chair that was hard to carry through the vestibule so that i could join the party people in their chairs outside.
what's up with that?
a couple of days before her birthday party i went over and hung out with her. she had two very nice green chairs in the yard. they were comfortable and attractive and i oohed and aahed. she told me that she had gotten birthday money from her mom and spent $30 each on the chairs. they were very attractive but i would never spend that much and i realized maybe that was why her house was so much nicer than mine, inside and out, because she would spend $30 on a lawn chair. while we sat in them it occurred to me that she might have more than one guest beside herself at her party. I hoped she would anyway. I wondered where they all would sit. the chairs inside her house were not easily carried out to the yard.
on the day of her party i decided i would try to buy a couple less expensive lawn chairs as a bday gift and bring a couple other less attractive chairs which were my own yard chairs to her house for the guests. i was somewhat proud of my decision and on the day of her party i headed in that direction with four lawn chairs in the car.
Husbear and I had plans to accomplish before her party started. there was another party we were to attend. when we got to this party it became clear that there were only two yard chairs there and already four adults. where was everyone going to sit? we took the chairs out of the car and shared them with this party for a couple hours. at one point the host noticed my white chair was, although dry, somewhat dirty with mold stains and discolorations. he brought out a clorox wipe and tried to clean it. he was able to lighten the seat a bit and i was a little chagrined by the experience. i had planned on cleaning the chair once i had arrived at my friend's party, when i first got there and no one was there but her and me. i had planned on doing it quickly so she wouldn't even notice that it had been dirty. but this guy beat me to it and i was so embarrassed that i made sure to sit in it the rest of the time so no one else would be subjected to the filth.
after we ate the best corn of western mass we gathered our four chairs and went to my friend's house, arriving two hours before she expected others to come. the Husbear left to meet with other people somewhere else, leaving us two, six lawn chairs, a dog and a house full of nice indoor chairs. we enjoyed each others company for hours, relaxing on the green chairs, sitting inside on the couch, occasionally sitting on my birthday gifts (but not often) and sitting on my dirty chair not ever. soon two other ladies showed up and we spent a while inside chatting and then we went outside and sat on her fun kiddie pool and then we played a little badminton. then, as we were all ready to begin the competitive game, Husbear appeared again, with two other fun people and we all milled about until slowly, everyone settled and sat on all the outdoor chairs except me. by the time i had helped everyone get a cocktail and brought some ginger ale out to Husbear all six chairs were spoken for: Husbear and birthday girl, two hot ladies and the cool traveling couple.
i felt a little sorry for myself. i had travelled many a mile carrying about chairs with the idea to help facilitate friends with parties. Not only helping my dear friend, who couldn't buy 6 $10 chairs for her party, but had to buy 2 $30 chairs for the chic factor but also helping some folks who i think are nice but whom i was helping out with the chairs just for the kindness and follow up karmic thank you but when the day was brought to the final sit down i had nothing but the awkward experience of dragging a heavy, falling apart, beat up kitchen chair that was hard to carry through the vestibule so that i could join the party people in their chairs outside.
what's up with that?
Sunday, July 18, 2010
David Blames the Dress
Yesterday David and I adventured to New Hampshire to a lake he used to spend days at when was a kid. I was nice albeit I wished I had an innertube to play with in the water. I love the whole playing in waves thing and although I grew up swimming on lake ontario as a kid, I enjoyed swimming in calm water but I really want to play more, have some action. I remember as a kid we would row a boat out deep and throw in something which sinks to the bottom and then jump in and try to find it. I like that game. Or we would swim out to Weber's anchored raft and climb aboard and then enjoy jumping, diving, pushing off of it. That is fun as well.
As David and I drove around the lake, there was many rafts anchored around for play and people waterskiing and jetskiing. I was tempted to jetski even though, yuk, the expenditure of gas and the noise is repellent but seeing them on the lake made me miss boating and that seems fun. More fun perhaps would be riding an inflatable object pulled by a speedboat. then you are in the water and boating as well. yay.
On the way back I was worried about my bedroom windows letting in the rain from a huge storm we were headed into which looked Greenfield bound. Once we got home I saw that it wasn't a problem. I was going to read but I crashed out immediately. I just read David's blog of yesterday and enjoyed it greatly. I laughed out loud at his reference of blaming the dress for the storm. He was referring to a dress I had bought in Hawaii. One day he and I were just walking around Honolulu and were caught in a very dramatic rainstorm which drenched us to the bone, completely. As it waned we saw a very cool second hand clothing store where I was able to buy this dress to relieve me of my very wetness. Now I very rarely wear this dress, I don't think I look as good in it as I do a pair of shorts and a tee but it was nice to just slip it on after our beach day. David blames the dress for the rainstorm.
In other clothing news I bought Kid two pairs of black levis (one jeans, one cords), both as a result of looking for brown or red or rust colored jeans. He picked out 30 length and 32 waist. After buying those I found BBQ color (brown) levis on amazon and mistakenly ordered him 32 length and 30 waist! dumb ol mom. I have to laugh because 30 and 32 are very close in size-does it really make a difference? Of course it does to a 17 yr old guy. I told him that of course I will exchange them (kind of a drag with amazon!) but first would he please put them on and walk around in them to see if they are actually ok? he said he would. I remember seeing him in the 32 waist pants and he pulled the pants quite a bit away from his belly so I don't think he does need a 32 waist. But he is going to be a senior in high school! Every pair of pants needs to be perfect.
As David and I drove around the lake, there was many rafts anchored around for play and people waterskiing and jetskiing. I was tempted to jetski even though, yuk, the expenditure of gas and the noise is repellent but seeing them on the lake made me miss boating and that seems fun. More fun perhaps would be riding an inflatable object pulled by a speedboat. then you are in the water and boating as well. yay.
On the way back I was worried about my bedroom windows letting in the rain from a huge storm we were headed into which looked Greenfield bound. Once we got home I saw that it wasn't a problem. I was going to read but I crashed out immediately. I just read David's blog of yesterday and enjoyed it greatly. I laughed out loud at his reference of blaming the dress for the storm. He was referring to a dress I had bought in Hawaii. One day he and I were just walking around Honolulu and were caught in a very dramatic rainstorm which drenched us to the bone, completely. As it waned we saw a very cool second hand clothing store where I was able to buy this dress to relieve me of my very wetness. Now I very rarely wear this dress, I don't think I look as good in it as I do a pair of shorts and a tee but it was nice to just slip it on after our beach day. David blames the dress for the rainstorm.
In other clothing news I bought Kid two pairs of black levis (one jeans, one cords), both as a result of looking for brown or red or rust colored jeans. He picked out 30 length and 32 waist. After buying those I found BBQ color (brown) levis on amazon and mistakenly ordered him 32 length and 30 waist! dumb ol mom. I have to laugh because 30 and 32 are very close in size-does it really make a difference? Of course it does to a 17 yr old guy. I told him that of course I will exchange them (kind of a drag with amazon!) but first would he please put them on and walk around in them to see if they are actually ok? he said he would. I remember seeing him in the 32 waist pants and he pulled the pants quite a bit away from his belly so I don't think he does need a 32 waist. But he is going to be a senior in high school! Every pair of pants needs to be perfect.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Overwatering and How I become attached to plants I've begun to love
Listen to this while reading this blogpost:
A month or two ago I bought a plant at the Greenfield's Farmers Market. It was a heliotrope and it was lovely. The plant seemed rich with flowers and sturdy. I marvelled at its thick beauty because I have a heliotrope at home which I grew from seed and love with all sorts of pride and delight. The above is a photo of the recently purchased plant with its rich, multi-hued purple flowers and vibrant green leaves about a week or so after I repotted it and put it in sunny company with a varigated lemon thyme.
I loved it so. But just yesterday I came to work and found it sitting in an over- sodden planter. I realized that the water I had supplied it on Friday did not drain out or get evaporated by the sun and soil. The poor plant was drowned. Horrified, I tipped the planter over to let out all the sitting water. I hoped that it would dry out and recover quickly. I went to a work meeting and after the meeting I saw a well-meaning coworker walking about with my watering can. Fearing the worst, I went outside and found that she had watered the heliotrope. I can only imagine that she saw its sickly sight and tried to help by watering, perhaps thinking that it was too dry! I poured out the water again and went in to admonish her.
I really wanted the plant to recover. I cut off the drooping limbs and branches, the grey flowers and swollen but limp stems and brought it home where i put the now-smaller plant in a pot with fresh soil, cutting off all dead items and hoping for the best.
When I was in my twenties and thirties I liked plants and flowers and enjoyed nature but never really understood the love of indoor plants. I thought they were pretty and appreciated them but had a boyf who had them all stacked up next to a window in one area. I have since discovered people have plants placed artfully around a house which I find is nicer. As I have gotten into my thirties I have enjoyed more and more the act of growing things from seed. Many Marches have seen me start flowers I really should wait longer to start and filled spaces inside by windows with seedlings and boxes of dirt. I understand this activity more now and appreciate the plants all clustered together by a window in the wintertime. The same guy from my past started a plant called a heliotrope when I lived with him and I was charmed that he would grow a plant because he heard of it in a ragtime song he taught himself to play on piano. A couple of years ago I saw a pack of heliotrope seeds for sale and just for amusement I bought them and tried to grow the plant. Out of the whole pack of seeds I successfully began a plant and still have it to this day. That plant is the healthier one in the above pic. I went for years not remembering its name and then something reminded me of the name of the purple color. It is rather "leggy" and long-branched. I was tempted to trim it way down to make it more bushy but DbR halted the scissors, pointing out that it was a healthy plant.
I've only seen it flower twice in the two+ years since I've grown it. I hope it will flower more.
A month or two ago I bought a plant at the Greenfield's Farmers Market. It was a heliotrope and it was lovely. The plant seemed rich with flowers and sturdy. I marvelled at its thick beauty because I have a heliotrope at home which I grew from seed and love with all sorts of pride and delight. The above is a photo of the recently purchased plant with its rich, multi-hued purple flowers and vibrant green leaves about a week or so after I repotted it and put it in sunny company with a varigated lemon thyme.
I loved it so. But just yesterday I came to work and found it sitting in an over- sodden planter. I realized that the water I had supplied it on Friday did not drain out or get evaporated by the sun and soil. The poor plant was drowned. Horrified, I tipped the planter over to let out all the sitting water. I hoped that it would dry out and recover quickly. I went to a work meeting and after the meeting I saw a well-meaning coworker walking about with my watering can. Fearing the worst, I went outside and found that she had watered the heliotrope. I can only imagine that she saw its sickly sight and tried to help by watering, perhaps thinking that it was too dry! I poured out the water again and went in to admonish her.
I really wanted the plant to recover. I cut off the drooping limbs and branches, the grey flowers and swollen but limp stems and brought it home where i put the now-smaller plant in a pot with fresh soil, cutting off all dead items and hoping for the best.
When I was in my twenties and thirties I liked plants and flowers and enjoyed nature but never really understood the love of indoor plants. I thought they were pretty and appreciated them but had a boyf who had them all stacked up next to a window in one area. I have since discovered people have plants placed artfully around a house which I find is nicer. As I have gotten into my thirties I have enjoyed more and more the act of growing things from seed. Many Marches have seen me start flowers I really should wait longer to start and filled spaces inside by windows with seedlings and boxes of dirt. I understand this activity more now and appreciate the plants all clustered together by a window in the wintertime. The same guy from my past started a plant called a heliotrope when I lived with him and I was charmed that he would grow a plant because he heard of it in a ragtime song he taught himself to play on piano. A couple of years ago I saw a pack of heliotrope seeds for sale and just for amusement I bought them and tried to grow the plant. Out of the whole pack of seeds I successfully began a plant and still have it to this day. That plant is the healthier one in the above pic. I went for years not remembering its name and then something reminded me of the name of the purple color. It is rather "leggy" and long-branched. I was tempted to trim it way down to make it more bushy but DbR halted the scissors, pointing out that it was a healthy plant.
I've only seen it flower twice in the two+ years since I've grown it. I hope it will flower more.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
ice cream truck
Kid is here this weekend. Today we went to a rainy park event and were able to catch a nice set by Spouse. Henning played bass in the 3 piece instead of Ken. Afterwards, Sal chatted up the band and came away with Spouse's new album. After some more running around he and I settled down in front of our computers in the dining room and he put the disc in. We were 1/5 through the first song when I heard some other weird music playing.
"What is that?" I asked. Sal heard it too and turned off the album. We heard the distinctive noisesong of an ice cream truck. Excitedly (who doesn't love door delivery of ice cream?) we jumped off our seats and ran outside, carefully not letting the dog out. The truck passed and I couldn't even see it but Kid has a nose for such things and took off down the sidewalk, yelling and waving. A block and a half away the truck finally stopped for us. Sal bought himself a cookies and cream ice cream cone and I bought myself a choco taco. I also got DbR the peanutbutter cup ice cream bar. He liked it.
I saw a funny sign advertising sour cherry italian ice. There was a picture of a cartoon kid's face puckered up with tears squeezing out. It was called "Cry baby". I almost wish I had gotten that instead of the chocotaco.
This was the first time in a couple of years that the truck went by Wells Street. No one else seemed to notice or care. It is a quiet afternoon in Greenfield.
"What is that?" I asked. Sal heard it too and turned off the album. We heard the distinctive noisesong of an ice cream truck. Excitedly (who doesn't love door delivery of ice cream?) we jumped off our seats and ran outside, carefully not letting the dog out. The truck passed and I couldn't even see it but Kid has a nose for such things and took off down the sidewalk, yelling and waving. A block and a half away the truck finally stopped for us. Sal bought himself a cookies and cream ice cream cone and I bought myself a choco taco. I also got DbR the peanutbutter cup ice cream bar. He liked it.
I saw a funny sign advertising sour cherry italian ice. There was a picture of a cartoon kid's face puckered up with tears squeezing out. It was called "Cry baby". I almost wish I had gotten that instead of the chocotaco.
This was the first time in a couple of years that the truck went by Wells Street. No one else seemed to notice or care. It is a quiet afternoon in Greenfield.
Friday, July 02, 2010
dogs sometimes bark at fireworks
Since I bought the Bricker in August 2002, I have now lived through eight Greenfield Fireworks events. You can call it nine if you want to count the one the month before the Bricker was mine, because I did endure it that year. Sal and I unknowingly found ourselves at the Peoples Pint during the fireworks and he left his very valuable book about the steamships there and it was an upsetting occasion. Then, driving out of town we were stuck in traffic. It is a yukky memory.
There have been better fireworks years. Sometimes I go to the park where people gather, I have also sat in yards on side streets adjacent to the park. I've enjoyed the fireworks with Karen, Evelyn and Karen's mom, I've experienced the fireworks with Frank and Ken, last year I went to the fireworks with David who likes a small town event. I think the park gets too crowded with people, which I don't find enjoyable and I detest getting caught in traffic. The fireworks park is just a little too far to enjoy the walk but one can park on this side of Federal Street and cut it down to an okay jaunt and if you pick the right side street one can shoot right down to wells, if you are lucky.
This year David went to Eaha for a show, leaving me home. I had just finished packing my bag for an overnight trip tomorrow when the fireworks began. I noticed from my bedroom if I looked just down the hall toward the back of the Bricker, in the direction of the train tracks, I could see some bright lights and exploding gun powder. I pulled my futon over into the position of my room where I could see the fireworks while lying down. It was no panoramic view and there was a bit of a tree in the way but for being in bed with the dog, it was a pretty great show.
Now people and traffic has livened up outside on Wells Street and Peretz is disturbed, barking at the impudence. Pickles is out in the hall outside my bedroom doorway, snoozing on a cushy dog bed. He looks comfortable.
There have been better fireworks years. Sometimes I go to the park where people gather, I have also sat in yards on side streets adjacent to the park. I've enjoyed the fireworks with Karen, Evelyn and Karen's mom, I've experienced the fireworks with Frank and Ken, last year I went to the fireworks with David who likes a small town event. I think the park gets too crowded with people, which I don't find enjoyable and I detest getting caught in traffic. The fireworks park is just a little too far to enjoy the walk but one can park on this side of Federal Street and cut it down to an okay jaunt and if you pick the right side street one can shoot right down to wells, if you are lucky.
This year David went to Eaha for a show, leaving me home. I had just finished packing my bag for an overnight trip tomorrow when the fireworks began. I noticed from my bedroom if I looked just down the hall toward the back of the Bricker, in the direction of the train tracks, I could see some bright lights and exploding gun powder. I pulled my futon over into the position of my room where I could see the fireworks while lying down. It was no panoramic view and there was a bit of a tree in the way but for being in bed with the dog, it was a pretty great show.
Now people and traffic has livened up outside on Wells Street and Peretz is disturbed, barking at the impudence. Pickles is out in the hall outside my bedroom doorway, snoozing on a cushy dog bed. He looks comfortable.
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