oldster-mobile

 A lot of people have ex- pressed interest in my ride. They know that once CBA and Wooda split, I had no way to get around. Well, I do now: The Olds.
This was my friend Frank's mom's car.  There are no Oldsmobiles any more, so I'm proud to be driving what Dianne calls "the old lady car." She waxed it up real nice. It floats over the roads like a boat. Sometimes I feel like I should hunch down behind the wheel and go about 20 mph in a 55 mph zone. I am a granny, after all.
About the pix: One represents what it feels like here, tempwise, and also features stray dogs, the cooler and a disused Shop Vac; the other features bug spray and the compressor unit for the ac, newly propped up with concrete blocks. Both feature the Olds.
Which do you like better?

electric gooseland

Back up and running here, never mind that it's going to be 100 degrees outside for the next week. We got ac and a fan and ice. And broadband. Finally. Again.
For several days customer service told me my service was fine and sent me to tech, and tech told me my service had been cancelled and sent me to customer service, who sent me back to tech, who eventually told me it was my problem and overnighted me a new modem.
These conversations took place at the top of the hill since I have no phone reception here. In 100 degree heat.
Finally, after pleading, they agreed to send a repairman here, who said I indeed had no service (which was what I had been trying to tell them) and went down the road to the phone company's building and fixed it. When I asked him what had gone wrong,  he said, "Let's just call it human error."
Idiots.

Oops

More Internet issues. Hopefully will be back up at some point. But hope does not spring eternal.



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we saw it coming

But then it didn't. This pic hasn't been enhanced in any way: The sky was that color. Everyplace has had weird weather this summer—mostly hot. Here in the Ozarks we're looking at a string of days like orange pearls on a red-hot wire. Days to laze in the river for hours. I'm just not going to think about the air conditioning costs right now.

tomatoes for every meal

When last seen, Jan was surrounded by organic heirloom tomatoes. Boxes on the floor, sinks full, peelings, two cases of canning jars awaiting processing. (When she went to Wal-Marts, presumably for more jars, she caught the guy who sang "Pants on the ground, pants on the ground, looking like a fool with your pants on the ground" doing his act right by the checkout.)
  And that's not counting the box we took. We have been eating tomatoes here for every meal. A plain plate for breakfast, tomato sandwiches for lunch, tomatoes with mozzarella and, yes, tomato pie for dinner last night. And the night before.
Recipe as reproduced by me from vague memory of Kathleen's mom's pie: In browned pie crust, layer thinly sliced tomatoes, onions and basil. Top with a mixture of grated cheese and mayo. Cook at 400ish for a half hour. Eat with pork chops or whatever. Check cholesterol.

another startup at the goose

Word: Back online.

up the creek

Well, the first thing we did when we got here to the Ozarks was try to set up the Internet. No dice. No Internet til next week. Or phone.
The second thing we did was jump in the river.
Now that was satisfying.

The voice

To most of my friends, the voice is a newspaper. But to most of America these days it's an NBC show a la American Idol, wherein a panel of judges listens to people sing without looking at them and picks one to groom for stardom.
Right now, our own subway chanteuse, Kathleen Mock at mockmusic.com , is inside New Jersey's Izod stadium with a hundred thousand other hopefuls. She arrived at 5 am with a pass she got on line and then waited in a line in the parking lot in what promises to be a 100 degree day in New York. She was about the 300th to be allowed through the doors. Now she is waiting.
Each person auditioned will be allowed to sing two minutes of a song a capella. Miss Mock, accustomed to hiding behind her guitar, has prepped by singing a capella in the subway, which apparently went over well.
The chances of a callback are roughly the same as getting hit by lightening, but it sounds like an amazing scene there. We'll get her reports as the day wears on.


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At the tastee dip

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Into the woods

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Apples and trees

Some people like admiring the view with a beverage and some nuts rather than going out to the movies.


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Location:Rendalia Mtwy,Talladega,United States

Return of jan

No banjo, but arrived bearing gifts. And what gifts!!




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Downtown

Not that there is much to it--most stores have been walmarted out of business. But the Cafe Royale still pulls 'em in. Hold the congealed salad, please.


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Rain

It came down in buckets, which means a lot less watering for me. The hummingbirds seemed to like it too.


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Diet

Prohibited:
Salt,Tomatoes, Potatoes, Protein, Dairy, Fat, Green veg, Peanuts, Potassium

Parks department

The tortoise has a special diet:
One half head lettuce
Ear of corn
Wedge of cantaloupe
One cucumber, halved lengthwise

Dad has a special diet also. More on that later.



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golf

A dear friend says the next thing she knows I'll be joining the Junior League. Course there is the age factor. . .
In the air this afternoon.

batting 3,000

I'm sure someone will correct me on this, but anyway Jeter batted something amazing here in Yanqui Stadium where I was visiting at Barb's after a round of golf and the Chinese takeout came and all was well and I'm leaving town tomorrow. Y'all have fun now!

free bird

"Roger, uh–"radioed flight commander Rick D. Husband, 45, as he acknowledged news from Mission Control that there were wonky tire-pressure readings from sensors on the left wing of the space shuttle Columbia.
There were no further voice communications from Columbia.
(For the rest of the story click here.)

   Eight years ago, I was slogging around East Texas looking at pieces of the Columbia that had just fallen from the sky. For the past 30 years and 130 flights, I have been writing about the space shuttle. This morning, at 11:26 the last flight is scheduled.

feng shui baby

When Grand Baby last visited Block Island, she was delighted by the Ba Gua (literally eight symbols) design over the door. When you would hold her up to look at it, she would laugh hysterically, perhaps grasping that the divisions of yin and yang, heaven and earth, fire and water are a huge cosmic joke. She is changing so quickly that it is unlikely she will recall her friend the Ba Gua when she next visits in a couple months, at nearly a year of age.

behind the glass door

Incongruously, in the basement of 98 RSD that is garlanded with pipes and wiring, there is now a door of plate glass with a fancy thumprint lock. Behind is is a carpeted mini gym, with treadmills, stationary bicycles and a piece or two of weightlifting equipment. "But it's not for you," one of the building workers told me as he showed me around. "Not for the old tenants." Funny, I would think the old (ie poor) tenants would be the ones who would use it, while the new (rich) tenants would go to Equinox.
   I need Sam here to hack the thing. . .

cherry pie

Set decor and Fourth of July sound track by Elaine, who calls patriotism materialism wrapped round religion, or something like that but seems to love her country anyway. . .

independence day

A concept I can get behind!

summer's on

The season is off and running, with Claudia's Surf City and Hannah's Hideaway rented through September. The fireworks will be blooming off the porches and Payne's Dock will be open and the sandcastles will be growing. Later!

h & h midtown

For all of you mourners out there, I should clarify that you can still get H & H bagels at their West Side Highway location—or at Zabar's. And another bagel store just a block away on Amsterdam is trying to seize the biz. In other neighborhood news, Pricewise Pharmacy has moved two blocks north. Just so you're not shocked when you're back on the Upper White Side.

birthday girl

Sorry. Due to my social schedule, there is a two-day lag on my posts. Anyway, the diva sometimes known as Suffering Elaine and a flotilla of friends of all colors, creeds and sexual preferences (but mostly journalists she met at Time magazine or WNYC or else ex-boyfriends) celebrated her birthday on June 28 in the fashionable West Village. There was no suffering involved. Except possibly the next day.

still proud, still single

We stood in front of the Stonewall Inn and heard the roar of the crowd, half a million strong,  as the governor led the Gay Pride parade. There were men in wedding dresses, couples crying and people partying like it was—well, 2011 and gay marriage had been approved by New York State.
Nonetheless, there are people like me whose attitude about marriage is either been there/done that or people like K who never believed in the institution, so the answer is:
No. We won't be queuing up at City Hall. Sorry to get your knickers in a twist.

checkered hedge

This is the hedge at the Goose, the one where I transplanted some privet (for privacy) and then realized about half of it was spirea. Sigh. Maybe you can understand why I wanted to block out the former beer store building, now a quilter's center. Too bad I wasn't looking closely at the plants.
    Looks like Bear has recently mowed, however. Last night I had a dream that he came to visit the big city, and I picked him up at the Newark airport and showed him the tall buildings in the distance while waiting interminably (in terminal) to be served breakfast at a diner. He and the waitress were making fun of me for being a Vassar girl. Bear staked the sorry tomatoes also. I mean in real life.
      Frank snapped this photo of the lawn for me. He said, "As a chessboard, it looks like the king, a few pawns, and castles at either end. You're about checkmated."

the last bagel

Alas, H & H closed yesterday. Saw them taking the fixtures out last night.

rainbow gathering

New York, NY
Kathleen goes out to play the subway on gay pride weekend the morning after NY legislators voted in gay marriage.
We've set the date for next month.

still in transit

Sailed away

Left Block Island in a downpour with an open truckful of junk. The race week folks had passed the harbor, so the ferry didn't need to thread through the spinnakers. Beat to shit. Nighty!



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i never promised. . .

. . . you a rose garden. But here is one anyway. Went to visit Edie's roses yesterday, and she gave us a solstice sample. She said that whatever direction the wind was coming from at 1:17, the hour of the solstice, would be the prevailing wind of the summer. She was hoping for west. It was west.



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solstice

Well, I should have posted yesterday's picture today. My bad.

hannah's porch

The finishing touches are going on Hannah's, prepping for the Milks who always kick off the season. We had to chase out the baby birds who have learned to fly from their nest on the porch into the house.
They're getting out just in time.

the second best shower in the world?

If you Google "The Best Shower in the World" you will find the shower at Claudia's Surf City. There is now a contender at Hannah's Hideaway, though, since Chris put in a new showerhead and shaving mirror and I weeded the iris and added beach stones. The view of the salt pond from Claudia's is superior, but the roominess at Hannah's is fab.
You probably need to try both before you can vote.

spring house

Certain people got rather tipsy on their Tanqueray martini. . .
But, hey,  it was vacation.

dune management

Supposed to look like

In process

They have put dumptruckloads of dirt on top of those big rocks, but dunno whether they are planning to plant as well.

changing shores

Unbelievable quantities of seaweed right in front of the house.
Also boulders. yes, folks, we won't be building the Gasner Corn Neck Toll Bridge, because they are shoring up the road with massive rocks that will effectively keep our little piece of paradise from truly being beachfront property.

the sea this morning

They call it off season for a reason . . .
It's freezin'.

shoulder season

Debby and Sam and Hannah and Chris and Camilla split. Now Toby is here, and I'm down to the last few preseason tasks. Windows, screens, small cleaning tasks and repairs, yard work and, as always, a few licks of paint. Where is Erin when I need her? Oh, right, she's totally sick of painting.

bird life

 There are birds in other places than Block Island: a heron in Frank's pond in Missouri and a baby hawk on my air conditioner in New York City.

who had quinoa for supper?

 Me!

a quick tour of Claudia's

on the beach

Wanna go skating?

contest

OK, so let's play!
Can you recognize this man?
Can you recognize that car?
Can you recognize the place?

bear's iris

 

Bear dug up these iris from his yard and I carried them back in the truck and planted them in Block Island. This year, they bloomed. They have an amazingly sweet scent, the likes of which I have never heard of an iris having. Some old-fashioned variety.

haul out the suntan lotion

Summer's almost here! Especially for those with very fair skin.

spooky weather

The sky turned a funny color in the backwash of the twisters that have followed us across the land from Alabama to Mississippi to Tennessee to Arkansas to Missouri and home to Massachusetts and Rhode Island. Block Island, however, was spared.

the daily rock

The daily walk up to the rock. With the baby and the dog. And the stroller and the dog treats and the water bottles and the other people with their dogs and strollers.