metaphor

Underneath one of those chairs on the left is the chrysalis of a monarch butterfly. The groom found it during his honeymoon (honeymooning with the moms? lucky moms) and took its picture. It was a beautiful green, with a jeweled necklace and buttons, more beautiful than any made by—oops, didn't mean to say that.
Anyway, the happy couple toured the island by motorcycle and as part of a tour given by three experienced Island taxi drivers, one of whom gave us a piece of info we hadn't had before, i.e. that Block Island was so called because town is a block long. We learned many other interesting things to0, and found on a historical marker a possible name for the couple's first born: Precious Spring.

After a week the honeymooners left. We kept checking every day, but the butterfly still hadn't hatched out. Yesterday, though, I found the tomb empty and the newborn on the ground, trying to find purchase on a blade of grass. I let it walk on my finger and conveyed it to more solid ground (the chair) to dry its wings and fly away.
I won't belabor the point, but I think it was headed for Mexico rather than Providence.

at the rehearsal dinner

Kids of all ages had a really good time.

undress rehearsal

Bridezilla rehearses the troops for the beach wedding that never happened and is not regretted.

just married

photograph by Lynn Johnson

what they saw

photograph by Unca John

gather ye rose petals

photograph by Keri Pickett

So the grandbaby thought that the thing to do was to sprinkle the groom's feet with flower petals. And it was probably a really good idea.

the grown-up world

photograph by Kate Stalzer
Bet you when she grows up she'll want to be a pretty princess just like Wolfen.

wedding pix

Photos from the wedding of the year are starting to come in. Shall I keep posting them or is it getting too old?

photograph by Dorothy Reilly

the morning after

This is the lost and found after what is being called "The Rave on Corn Neck Road."
Not pictured: two lipsticks and three folding umbrella-man umbrellas.
Note to Zoe: We found your scarf.
Also not pictured: A $64 load of trash that went to the dump.
Also not pictured: Our house, which is a dump.

The announcement

http://www.blockislandtimes.com/news/2006/0930/News/030.html

happy birthday mom!

photograph byKeri Pickett
That's the birthday girl on the right, with the groom's grandmother on the left.

Today mom turns eighty, she says that it’s true
In spite of her looks which remain sixty-two,
Though she says she feels achy and slow on her pins,
She still can out-pace me in most everything.

She worked for some colleges, and built two great houses
She lived long in Maine (and that means catching mouses),
She’s hosted some students, and made some headbands
She’s played the piano on her baby grand,

She managed four children as wild as they get,
She substitute taught, and she had a few pets,
She’s taken up painting, and sculpted some chickens
And works doing things for the poor like the dickens.

She’s arranged ikebana, and grew some bonsai,
(If I did all these things I would certainly die),
This is too many things for one person to do.
I cannot believe for a second it’s true.

Yes, she’s had many lives, one right after another:
She’s been big in business, in houses, a mother,
I want it in writing she’s eighty years old.
[Cause I never believe what I hear, or I’m told.]
—written by my sister Erin in honor of the occasion

bridals

photograph by Keri Pickett

Help getting ready.

phoenix relationship

photograph by Lynn Johnson

done deal!

Pix to follow.

the bride is ill

We're not really all that surprised. As they say in the Bronx, it's "estress." A wedding is theatrics, and taking the starring role creates its own kind of pressure, which in this case has emerged as a cold. But that's what Advil is for. The show must go on.
Meanwhile, I have two dishwashers going full time and have wrecked my manicure picking labels off plates and glasses. Another full day should do it for the dishwashing, and then I can carry stuff from point a to point b and point b to point a. Perhaps this is pointless?

lights, camera. . .

We've been buying stuff for months. At this point, if we don't have enough stuff, that's tough. I hope you all like those orange coffee cups, because you will be enjoying them for years to come in my houses, my apartment and perhaps even in your very own home. We have 200 of them. Ditto the cheapo silverware, wine glasses and white plates.

shower

A shower really seems a most appropriate wedding preliminary right about now. Guess which present came from da mama?

the chime of bells

I guess the electricians won't be finishing up tomorrow—it's raining, and they have to crawl around under the building—but I'm going back into exile anyway, laden with hams and cheeses and shopping en route for the big day. A week from Saturday.

wedding countdown

Yesterday was mother-of-the-bride hell.
The dentist filled two cavities and told me I needed gum work.
Then I went skirt shopping.
I went undergarment shopping.
I tried on many outfits.
I went shopping at Zabar's for coffee and salt and pepper for the wedding.
I talked with many people on the phone who do not have places to stay.
I rounded out the day by going with the bride to have our nails done.
Now that I reread this, I can see that for some people this might be a typical day. For me, however, it is an aberation.

i heart ny

Five years ago, I was painting on the beach with Neruda's class when Dangerman rang my cell.
"Planes just hit the World Trade Tower and the Pentagon," he said.
Today, when he rang my cell at the same time of morning, I was standing on the dock in Galilee, en route to the city where I left my heart.
Between the two days were all his calls from Afganistan and Iraq.
Nothing much is settled still.
But New York is still New York. And I got a parking space.

full moon hula

The hulahoop on the beach under full moon light. Guitars, poetry, fire, marshmallows—a beautiful thing.

o constant reader

Who are you, the person who reads every day from China Villiage, Maine, a place so small it is difficult to find on the map?
Inquiring minds want to know.

mouse room 2

Not that this is the room where I caught two mice (snap trap and glue trap) last night. And the night before, in even more rodent excitement, Neruda clocked a rat in her kitchen with a frying pan. I guess the rain has driven the little darlin's indoors, along with the rest of us.

room with a view

storm

storm

So let's say a person had a tent up right now, a nice Saturday in September, and was planning to have a wedding on the beach. Yikes.

the end of exile

Tonight I'll play CDs again, light up the stove
and pretend
The other place is just a site to me, a dream or just a fantasy
reminding me that I am free
Homeward bound
At last I am
Homeward bound
Home
—where my back ain't achin'
Home
—with no late-night fakin'
Home
—with no sawdust waitin' silently for me

hot tuna

The guy who did the shingling also does fishing. He gave us some beautiful tuna.

bar-b-q

Suppertime at Payne's dock.

teabag

summer paintings

One of these pictures was painted every year at my kitchen table. It was always July—the tiger lilies were in bloom, and the hydrangias. The last few years there have been no paintings, because I haven't been on the island in July. The watercolors faded. But this year Neruda took them away and freshened them all with new paint. They are stacked now in the new house, awaiting walls.

signing off

So first my brother was here, and then he left, and Peter showed up. Somehow, with real carpenters around, I didn't dare do more than cleanup, dump runs, lumber yard runs, ordering, cooking (my fave: "What's for lunch?") and paying everybody. But now, alone at last, with no one around who can do it better and faster with more appropriate tools, I can muddle through myself. As his last act, Peter showed me how to attach L-bead. Y'all know what L-bead is?

electrify me

The electricians are due today. I don't really have the light fixture thing together, so unless UPS is unexpectedly speedy I may have to learn to do wiring myself. Oops. Contractor falls down on job. Wedding planner doing a little better.

progress

So a passerby looked at this and said, "It's so wonderul that you're restoring that old cottage." Take that, Historic district Commisssion!

so what?

So it's raining. So who cares? Do I care? I got a roof, I got windows, doors, I almost got siding. I got a gravel drive. Rain on me, baby.
Just keep September 23rd clear, OK?

into the interior

sunset at the almost ok corral

It's getting to be that time of year again, the time when the days get shorter and the nights get cool, when sunsets start to look like Mt. Pinatubo (sp?) blew again and when Islanders get crazy. I must be an Islander. Or maybe I'm Mt. Pinatubo. Or maybe they're the same thing.

received wisdom

The Most Powerful Woman on the Island lectures the wolf cubs about their marriage.

beach day

a big deck

Carpenter Cub finishes the back deck just in time for the shinglers to move around the building. The other marks are harder to hit, with the interior walls going up slower than I'd like. The tarp is sun protection. But it feels like fall.

full moon with ladder

shingling

tarpaper

Tips from Claudia: When you have a tarpaper shack, choose potted plants to match. Colius can be a perfect choice, if it matches the pot from the dump.
However, since the guys got back from fishing for tuna and are beginning to shingle the north side today, there will be less tarpaper than before.

scale

per your request

and the heat broke

word from angelina

Received the following postal card from Angelina in New Russia, a hamlet in the Adirondacks:
"Je pense que je vais acheter une maison dans cette village. J'avais vue une route nomme de Stars et Stripes ici avec une grande Victorian. Ah, mes reves sont realizes!
Vous ete jalouse, je sais. . ."
Yeah, but she'll be awfully jealous when she sees my white farmhouse kitchen sink—which used to be hers.

and the kitchen sink

view from here

My brother is leaving. He wants to go back to his own life. Who can blame him? I'd like to go back to my own. His effort has been heroic: a totally functional house trimmed out like a wedding cake. He did it nearly single handedly. There's a lot of stuff left to do on the interior—the fun part for him—and hopefully he'll come back to do it. But my main man is departing, and I will miss him.

the last wind hole

Cowboy and Mr. Piss-on-the-ants install the last doors.

decked

Railroad Man helps Cowboy put on the back deck.

bathroom install

OK, so there are no walls. But we are a three-bath, dishwasher, washer/dryer establishment. With roof.

hearth and home

view from new porch

Roof Boy is still here—the roof is half on. And the plumbers are coming out to almost finish up tomorrrow. Life is good.

seriously substandard

I don't know why the phrase"substandard housing" (for "slum" or "shanty" basically) has registered so in my consciousness. But anyway, I do think that washing dishes in the outdoor shower counts as substandard.

the summer of rains

But at long last, the roofers are on the roof, as roofers are meant to be. Maybe as soon as i have a roof, it will stop raining.

power

We're on the grid. Too bad that we're a refrigerator shy of the full complement—and the disfunctional one is in the wrong house, i.e. the one the Milks are renting.

new porch

progress report

The cornice was completed 15 minutes before Peter, the island- hopping carpenter, left for Puerto Rico. Behind the two builders is a completely functional toilet with accompanying septic system (monitored by phone or Palm Pilot) and outdoor shower.
We also have broken the umbilicus (extension cords) to the mothership, with our very own power line.
This is all very exciting.
In addition, the Cub put on most of the front porch last weekend, and Bro is putting on the roof even now.
So it's still substandard housing, but daily more functional.

sorry

Yes, I have been remiss. Things are happening, and I haven't really said what they are.
Today
I painted sophit (?), facia and frieze boards for the cornice, primer and finish, while waiting to see if it would rain. It hasn't so far.
The cornice is almost three-quarters of the way around the house.
The cornice is necessary to put on the roof.
Also today three electricians arrived from the mainland to pull the wire from the street and pole to the house. I had already put the conduit in some time ago.
Well, they did pull the wire. And then the Inspector noticed that it was aluminum wire.
Aluminum? I thought we had to use copper.
We do. So the electricians left disconsolate to return with copper wire on Thursday. Sheesh.
Also, the Septic Maestro showed up to see if it was dry enough to pump out the tank, seal it and make it operational.
Not quite.
The Gas Guy showed up to present a whopping bill and see if we could run hot water.
We could.
So.
Hot water.
No kitchen.
No elecricity.
No toilet.
But we're getting there.
And we promise to write in.

if i were a carpenter

who'll stop the rain

Photochild on the roof with caulk!

carpenter city

OK, it's three in the morning, I'm up with a case of hives, and this is one of the good nights. Last night it was the rain that kept me awake, dripping through the nonroof onto the floor next to my head, plinking on the uninstalled flashing for the upstairs windows and making rivulets next to the mold spots already blossoming on the blueboard. The reason the roof is not on is because the cornice is not on. The reason that the cornice is not on is that the carpenter from New Orleans who was making it went down with a bad back for a couple of weeks. Weeks of rain. However, he is back on the job, and hopefully will be able to complete most of it before leaving for Vieques next week. Yes, he's quite the jet setting carpenter.
And yesterday the rock climbing Cub went up on the nonroof with several tubes of silicone to hopefully stop the worst of the leaks. He also added a hat to the chimney on the other house that was pouring rain into the hot water heater and putting its pilot out every time it rained. Which was often. Have I mentioned rain? It looms very large in contracting and camping, both of which are my life. It's enough to give you hives. Apparently.
In other news, the private plane that came down on the island crashed into Papa's yard, and Mercury is in retrograde.