Grammy Lives

This evening, right before the sun set, I went outside to water the tomato and squash plants. I left Rupert inside, because this is the hunting hour and he'll just bolt for the first deer, squirrel or rabbit he sees. After I finished watering, I started thinking about what I could do to thank Grammy for my time here and commemorate her memory. The idea of planting a tree came to me. But as I walked around the property, it looked like every tree was in it's right place, as if someone had the idea to plan the planting of every tree way before I did. It was the best time of the day in nature. The whole area sounded alive but the sky was still and getting pinker and darker by the minute. Then I realized that my Grammy made this property into her own sanctuary. She watered every plant, planted every bush, and fed all the birds so this place would be her perfect idea of heaven on earth. Standing there, I got that feeling that she must have had standing in the same place at the same time of day when she was alive. It was a complete escape from everything.

A Wedding in Brooklyn

I haven't posted in a while because I've been driving up and down the eastern seabord. I've gone to New York 3 times, once to Pittsburgh, and 3 times to Silver Spring, Maryland to visit Beth.

One of our trips was to attend Ben's sister Lisa's wedding. Ben's Uncle Chet and Aunt Pam threw it in their backyard on Degraw Street. Josh hosted the afterparty on his roof down the street and we all danced in front of the river and Manhattan.

On another trip to New York our air conditioning broke down right after Beth and I left her driveway. At first I freaked out a bit. After all, it was the hottest week of the summer. As always, Beth retained her hardy American spirit: "Maybe what's wrong with our society is that we can't live without things like air conditioning anymore." But then, as we drove through Baltimore with the hot air blowing against us and in Rupert's mouth, I looked over to Beth in the passenger side. She was asleep with her head leaned back against the red and white pillow she'd brought along and the sun was cut off perfectly by the shade of the car just above the ankles of her bare feet, and I thought to myself that she was right– sometimes it's good to have less and be reminded about what it feels like to be close to the earth, without all these man-made barriers.

Later in that trip, I watched the sun set over Far Rockaway floating on my surfboard with nobody but Josh and I out and a 3 foot swell coming up to 4. The sky is so big out there- not like the rest of New York. I kept thinking of the line from the Odyssey where Homer describes it as "the rosy-fingered dawn", except this was dusk.

Anyway, it's been good to be alive this summer.