Category: Real Personal History
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I Too Can Do Physical Labor
[Me on the steps…working hard.] As a blogger I get tons of mail. It’s mostly fan letters, notes of congratulations, invitations to weddings, birthday parties, fundraisers, dedications at mall openings and the occasional bris. But I also get questions. “Gee, Pat (I’m an informal kind of guy), what do you do when you’re not working…
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Languid June
[Languid June As Seen From Our Back Deck.] Languid June. Languid June. The name has a certain ring to it. Like Lay Down Sally, Calamity Jane, Black-Eyed Susan, Axis Sally, Typhoid Mary and Moaning Myrtle. I chose the title of this post with care. I do believe that I saw a Sad-Eyed Lady at the corner…
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Late Night Thoughts on Thumb Twiddling
[Mariam in the act of thumb twiddling. Photo credit: Me] Twiddle. (v) To wait idly because one cannot take action. Not that many weeks ago I found myself behind the wheel of an Avis Rent Car. I had set the cruise control at 71 mph. We were heading north out of Albany, coming home from…
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The Robin’s Nest
[The nest after being moved from the lamp] [American Robin: Turdus migratorius.] I’m sure it was a Robin’s nest. Every time Mariam or I would use the front deck entrance (with a screen door that slammed louder than the front gate of Alcatraz), a bird with a rusty breast would scold us from a nearby branch…
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Staring Down at 72
[A post card image from Inkognito.] As I write this post the weather here at Rainbow Lake is unsettled. Windy with thunder in the distance. I fell asleep in the screened-in porch last night listening to heavy rains falling. I’m staring at a calendar (The kitchen wall calendar…this year: Japanese prints). I see that I…
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My Friend Tim
[Left to right: Jo, Anna, Tim at the White Lion Inn on our last night in Dorset] It was August of 1984. I was about to begin a year in Dorset, England, when I first met Tim Ovenden. He was destined to be my house-mate in Wimborne Minster (actually a burb of Wimborne, Colehill). He…
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Smoke and Paper
Everyone knows about the effect smoke can have on…well, nearly everything. Smoke damage can be responsible for the loss of furniture, art, clothes and so many other objects. Cigarette smoke is truly an evil presence. Before the smoking ban in pubs of NYC, I would come home stinking of the left-over Marlboros. It was disgusting…
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All Things Must Pass
I’m profoundly glad that I wasn’t home alone when it happened. Most likely the sad event occurred when we were away for three months. No-one was present. Perhaps when our friend Nora came by to water our begonia named Rosie…perhaps it happened then. I hope so. It is not a nice thought that something so…
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The Statue
This post is not about anything that happened on our most recent trip. This goes back to a time, over a year ago when we were having dinner at an outdoor restaurant In Brussels. At the end of the final course, I excused myself to go to the loo. On the way to the back…
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Journey’s End
Pick a window…any window. There’s nothing to see, only white. We entered a fog bank. Fog as thick as whole milk. We’re sailing due west, nearing Long Island. Visibility from our deck window is about ten feet. The end of our three-month journey is about to end. Nothing left, except to get through customs and…
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