8.31.2020

long distance

There is something about this telephone company building in the middle of a field near a town called Rover that has always appealed to me. It reminds me of the party line we had in Vermont years ago, and of the way people used to call one another early in the morning or after 8 o'clock at night, when long distance rates were cheaper, and talk for less than three minutes. Times have changed, and people have mostly given up land lines (though I still have three for emergencies). But the land and the wires are still there.
      In other news, photographer Donna Ferrato has a piece about a photo shoot being done by another photographer, Martin Schoeller, in New York. I did a story on Schoeller years ago. Funny that he and Donna fetched up together. Both have done a lot of work with the homeless.

8.28.2020

the visitors

My most frequent host, who entertains at the Goose or at his house.

My Gunga Din, who brings me drinking water, often!

The in-town crew, who just arrived for a month.
OK, some of them don't like their picture made. Well, maybe none of them do. Tough shit!

8.27.2020

nature girl

The bunch of basil I bought is rooting.
 Today has been the day of black and yellow striped critters. Actually there was a tiny, dead black and yellow striped snake also, but I neglected to take its picture. I trapped this spider, actually rather large (wolf spider?), under a glass last night and took it outside today. Coming in, I found a dead butterfly. What do I do with it?

Wolf spider probably fattened up on the crickets that have invaded the Goose.

I guess this is a tiger swallowtail. Deceased. Probably hit by a logging truck.

8.26.2020

dark days ahead?

Stock up on ammo, food, and cash. Get ready.  Pistol strapped to his hip, a member of a group that calls itself the Missouri Militia warned a friend of dark days ahead. He believes that either just before or just after the election, martial law will be declared. The first thing that will happen, he says, is that cellphones and the Internet will go black, crashed by electromagnetic equipment perfected in China. Then the electrical grid will go down. The governor of Missouri will mobilize the militia. They are very well organized and just awaiting orders, says the Iraq War veteran.
   It reminds me of the conspiracy theories and fear that surrounded Y2K in these same circles in this same area 20 years ago. One guy I know gathered his whole family from Ohio onto his piece of the Ozarks in the middle of forestland for safety. I assured him that the grid was not going to go down, and that the UN was not going to use the collapse as an excuse to take over the U.S. He assured me it was a given. I said, "OK, I'm going to come in from New York and spend New Year's Eve with you, and we will see who's right."
   So on New Year's Eve, we gathered with his parents and brother and sister-in-law. He kept an AK-47 leaning on the sofa next to him. Every few minutes he would go to the phone and call friends who lived around the country. "Anything happening yet? The roads blocked off? Power out?" Nada.
   At midnight New York time, eleven o'clock Missouri time, journalist friends called me from Times Square as the ball dropped. No military action there either, just celebration. As we saw in the New Year in the Ozarks an hour later, he realized that none of his predictions were coming true.
   To his credit, he claimed to be happy that nothing bad had happened.
   To my credit, I didn't say I told you so.

8.25.2020

rounding it up


So I finally actually got onto my underwear rack for a first spin. It has the added benefit of looking at my hummingbirds, at-long-last-blooming crape myrtle and River Resorts, aka the cafe, through the window.
  A little music for you. Pink's Dear Mr. President, dedicated to George Bush. If you close  your eyes, it works today. A round up of some of this year's protest music that I haven't listened to yet, selected by a friend. And not music, but a protest video taken in Greater Downtown Block Island called Grim Reaper Meets Granny.

8.24.2020

dirty business


 I can't bear the news. Just the lineup of the Republican coronation makes me barf. Not to mention this about Block Island and the Summer From Hell. So instead, I am going to treat you to my recent socializing. Since most of you can't! Yesterday I visited Randy and Virginia for the first time since I've been here. Virginia has been here (to plant me some elephant ears among other things) but I hadn't seen Randy. And was he a sight for sore eyes! He had been using old motor oil to treat lumber and was pretty well covered with it. Virginia showed me her (mostly) cat collection of ceramics, and the dog collection. And we sat on the porch swing and yakked. It was grand.


8.23.2020

birthday boy

Isaac is seven. I am not there. I will not be there for Camilla's tenth birthday either. I miss my kids!

8.19.2020

some assembly required

My new exercise bike has arrived. It was enough exercise running after the UPS guy down the street and getting it out of the box. Now all that remains is assembling it and somehow moving it upstairs to use to hang my underwear.

8.18.2020

floating

 So this happened. The cousins from New Orleans arrived to entertain me. They were en route to Chicago where Glenn and Michael's daughter, Avery, is finishing up her last semester of college. Thanks to Bill Dugan, they had their own digs a block away, and all was well. They brought boudin and other sausage treats and barbeque from Memphis and other treats. But the greatest treat was, of course, them!
   Meanwhile there's this. Sounds like my other two places of abode are falling apart. The Upper White Side, NYC. And Block Island. I think I'll stick with the Ozarks for a bit.


8.17.2020

strange bedfellows

So the above landed from Amazon in the same package. Hannah said, "Lucky the mouse didn't eat the peanuts." There's probably an Instagram account in this concept of odd shipments, but I don't have the energy! Feel free to comment on any of the peculiar packages you have had recently. Now that we're all having everything shipped.

8.12.2020

when worlds collide

So I went to the PO to mail the postcards above. And parked behind the guy below.


8.10.2020

empty rooms

I am heartbroken. In a terrible summer on Block Island, with the volunteer EMTs already overextended from moped crashes and drunks, yesterday they had to attend the worst accident they had ever seen. It was 12:30 pm when a Jeep came around a curve, kids hanging out of the doors or windows and plowed into a telephone pole. One kid was sheared off and killed instantly, another gravely injured. The 17-year-old driver was taken into custody for DUI. It was a horrific event that makes every parent, particularly those of teenagers, terrified. I feel so terrible for all the families involved.
  And I fear the girl who was driving was one of my tenants. I heard it through the grapevine, and Ana went over to the house to check. Things had been hastily packed, but there were three pairs of sneakers and a couple of suitcases still there. They have been coming for seven years, since the kid was ten. How will she be able to survive this? A life sentence of remorse.

8.07.2020

more about food

 What are we supposed to make of this? Deviled eggs for sale in a package? I have never heard of such a thing. But, hey, they are a pain to make.
   However, I did make egg salad with local eggs and could have made deviled eggs instead—the peeling is the hard part, especially with fresh eggs. And then I put some of the produce to use in a salad.

8.06.2020

local truck


Bringing home the harvest

On Tuesdays and Thursdays, the customers come to Mary.
Several of my local friends (Bill, David) told me I needed to get with Mary for her produce and plants. It turned out she lives just a few miles from me as the crow flies. And what a beautiful operation. Huge gardens, major irrigation, greenhouse, plants everywhere, the whole shebang. Even a parking lot and outhouse.
   Here is what Maranatha Farm  has on offer this week. Don't know if you can see that link. Directions here.
   So now I am looking at a pile of produce that there is no way I can eat. I'm thinking ratatoille, obv. But also gazpacho. And then there's this eggplant recipe that looks fantastic.
   Meanwhile, however, I think it's too beautiful to eat. I'm just admiring it.

8.05.2020

as the day wanes

Someone said they had never seen a picture of this chair without a watermelon in it. So here it is. 
Another picture in the gloaming. But that's my brother Chris in the chair, not a melon.
In Block Island news, the ferries are running again after a brief visit from Isaias. Johnny battened down the hatches at Claudia's, and all is well. Erin lost power in Providence, but Hannah didn't. New York was pretty much spared, but Long Island not so much.
   Hannah says you know you've made it when your husband (and his motorcyle), your car and your backyard appear in a Lowe's ad.  Chris shot, of course, and you can see it here. And BTW. you shouldn't be shopping at Home Depot anyway.
Ambiance at Erin's in Providence, which she is renting from Hannah. She put some stuff in Hannah's freezer on Forest St., but the ice cream was a lost cause.


8.04.2020

primary colors

 I believe it to be primary day in Missouri. This is your opportunity to vote for the most awful Republican candidate. Me, after receiving this flier, I'm rooting for Jaret.

8.03.2020

the report

My brother Chris fished. He caught itty bitties but had a good time.

My sister-in-law Lynn kayaked. Actually, we all did.

And Dugan generously donated his digs on the river where they slept.

Lynn did some painting at Blue Spring. No, I won't tell you where it is.

And she also made a peach pie!

And then, after a week, they left and I am very lonesome. They made it back to Santa Fe in one 15-hour day.