The water department on Block Island usually dowses to find the valve with which to turn on and off my water. In the middle of my driveway. It was leaking, though, and so they dug the whole thing up. In the process they cut my phone line—though fortunately not my electrical line.


super bowls

Since I don't have a TV and wanted to watch the half-time show (in which, predictably, Bey and Bruno rocked the house and made Coldplay look like a pale imitation of a band) (what were the organizers thinking?), Toby invited me upstairs, where I had a super bowl of popcorn. The evening before I had several super bowls of $1 oysters. But Toby was disappointed by the game and even the ads.



The storm overnight brought down a crane that killed somebody just  a block from Donna Ferrato's TriBeCa loft. But they are all ok. Word: If you see a crane, walk around it.
 Robert Bobrow has posted another story on Huff Post: "Your Electronic Medical Record is Filled with Gibberish"about how the computer screen barricades doctor and patient.
On another note, a piece on Sam Kendig's  place of work, Bose, with videos.
And, there is more to Rhode Island than Block Island: A list of charming towns.


with feeling—and attitude

Rosio at her place of work

The moto
She leaves her house in the campo before light in the winter—when the temps are in the 30s and 40s—and rides her battered moto to my mother's house in the town of San Miguel de Allende. There she massages, medicates, cooks, cleans, shops, washes, feeds the dog, pays bills, encourages and generally keeps spirits bright with a lot of love.
I say she's superwoman.
She says she's "macha."


family resemblance?

Cl-Ben, 2015, 2016
Chr-Erin, 2016, 2015

The models, 2016, 2010
I was breezing through Facebook when I saw a picture of my musician brother (who it so happens has a new website). Hmm, I thought.
Then my designer sister (who of course also has a website) had a new portrait made (by my photographer son-in-law, who also has a website). And I looked at a recent picture of my wood sculptor brother (who really needs a website). And I thought hmmm. . .
So then I went scurrying through the files for the progenitors.


matt attack! tonight!

Tonight (TUESDAY, 2/2) at 9pm, NBC, Ali's husband Matt plays a bad guy on Chicago Med.
In other news, Pal Denise Vaughn reports on a newly discovered cave—the 7000-somethingth—in Missouri in the St Louis Post-Dispatch.
And speaking of Missouri, another one of my friends is renting an Ozarks cabin not far from me—unless you want to stay with me!
Another in the "Conflict" TV series that Donna Ferrato was in is the fascinating (to me) story of a war correspondent who walked away. And speaking of Donna, she won yet another award, the NPAA's Humanitarian Award.
And speaking of videos, here is one Sam sent in about The Last Seltzermen.
And speaking of Sam, Happy Birthday!
And speaking of Birthday, Happy Birthday Flip!
And speaking of February 2, Happy Groundhog Day!
Did you want a groundhog birthday cake? Here ya go!
Cake neither fabricated nor photographed by me.


playing in the light

"Hello? It's me. I am here with your stove delivery."

 Otra Rubia swept me away to the Bronx this weekend, where she made lentil soup on a stove that was soon to be removed. The soup had to go out to the  balcony, where it had a good view of the sunset over Yankee Stadium as it cooled. And it was safe there from the Depredations of Devil Cat, who likes all human food better than anything dreamt of by Meow Mix. The new stove was delivered and admired, and unheated snacks were consumed (cat likes cheese) and then we all went out to dinner. Well, not Kitty.

The best chachka. Um, Chatchka in Francais?



A young busker packs up his violin.
They play real good for free. Well, they hope you will gift them a peso or two. There is music in the air day and all night in San Miguel. (And fireworks and dogs barking and other things that make noise 24-7.) What is the relationship between busking and begging? Or selling a 5-cent bag of roasted pumpkin seeds or a little burro? None of these people would be on the streets but for tourists. And beware the seven-man mariachi band that surrounds your table and sings just for you. The novelty soon wears off, and you find yourself responsible for an unanticipated outlay.
An old busker leads his trio.


begging, the question

 To walk down the streets of any city is to be assailed with need. "Help me." "I'm hungry." "I'm homeless." "I can't afford my meds." "I can't support my family." Most of the time, we walk past, thinking, "I have my own financial problems." "He will just buy drugs or alcohol with the money." "Why can't our society find a way to take care of crazy people?" "This is not my job." "A quarter is not going to make a difference." "I give to charities for the homeless already."
And yet. These people, these desperate people, these young people, these old people, these poor people, these crazy people, these people on the edges. These people we walk past. They breathe and cry and love. They need us. Maybe we need them, too, to remind us that we are one people. #therebutforfortune



Yes, I am home yes and I say yes i am yes.


adios mexico

Leaving mama and Rosio and Max the dog to their own devices, and heading back to slushland.


at the market

 Most of you know that I love a big snow. I mostly love it from a warm indoors place through the window, like my apartment in New York. Yes, it would be preferable to have a fireplace too, but had I been on Block Island, where I have a fireplace but no heat (plus there was no electricity during the blizzard) it wouldn't have been,
 as my mother-in-law used to say, conducive. (Conducive to what? I used to wonder.) In this case, conducive to enjoying the snow.But I passed the blizzard here, at the market in San Miguel.
It is, as they say, a feast for the eyes as well as the belly, and on Saturday everyone was shopping. Well, everyone but me. I did buy
a couple bowls and a new laundry bag and some plates for my mom. But no, Johnny, I did not have a liquada or anything at the food booths, though they are fab, because Rosio is feeding me all too well at home. With stuff she buys at the market.