lazy hazy crazy

. . .days of summer. With somemores, bluefish and beer. . .

spogga lives

The beach attracts all sorts on 80-degree days.

verge

The rose hips are out, the Queen Ann's lace, the chicory, the hydrangeas—oops, wrong blog! Must have meant to post on the President of the Garden Club!

beach time

Last night I slept in a hammock. The refrigerator door is open so much it won't stay cold. We switched it to see if that would help. Some 15 of my closest friends and relations sit down for dinner of a night, and tonight it's my night to cook. We'll have the stripers Ricky caught yesterday made with his recipe, which includes onions and milk. And whatever else I can convince the gang to prep for me. And the waves are fab! And that's all I have to say because it's hard to finish a sentence with 15 of your closest friends and relations in one house.

off to block island!

Same kid, same car, maybe six years ago?

the reason

You may have noticed that sometimes I don't write much here. The usual reason for this is that I am either writing a lot elsewhere or talking a lot. Yesterday it was both, and today it is mostly talking. In fact I can't hear myself think right now due to the nevvy's visit, so i think I will call it a blog entry.

mother-daughter acts

Your Picture Caption Here

things to do in Block Island

Admire The Real Estate Lady's roses.

under new management

There was a shock awaiting at the nail salon. The woman who had run the place, the one who knows my daughter and sister and nieces and friends, was no longer there.
  "What happened to the previous manager," I asked the new one.
  "She fell," he said.
  "Oh no!" I said. "Is she okay?'
  "Not her fell. The business fell."
Fell or fail, I guess it has the same meaning. The place was surely buzzing under the new management.
  But I liked the empty store and the women who used to help me with Chinese.

pattern recognition

These photos were taken by a recent guest (who I would credit if I knew her name) at Claudia's Surf City.
Can you identify these items/locations?

things not to do in block island

This picture was taken in 1930 by Martin Munkacsi, I don't know where. I think it is incredibly beautiful. But don't try this at home.

In other photo news, ma Donna Ferrato has her domestic violence work up on the Lens blog of the New York Times today, including her appeal for funds for a film/road trip. remember what I was saying recently about supporting artists? A week left to donate.

independence night

independence day

Independence Day fireworks from Hannah's Hideaway, 2006

I wish that certain people I know had independent means.
There are people who deserve to be paid just for being in the world. Most of them are bad with money.
There's the motelier who saves old dogs and old kitsch and has a genius for creating outrageous environments that bring disparate people together (and we're talking really disparate).
There's the writer who's always in debt because he gave his time away to the old lady next door and his money away to the loser he met on the street.
There's the musician who will serenade you and fix your computers for free.
There's the photographer who wants to end violence against women and sexually liberate everyone in the world.
There's the humorist who spends her days devising elaborate and hilarious stunts to amuse her friends.
   And it seems like every day there are more foreclosures and title pawns and other desperate circumstances among my friends, particularly the artists.
    Some kazillionaire needs to set up a coolness grant for people who live lives that are works of art, people who have the gift of being happy and who make others happy.
We need our independent thinkers to be independent.

things to do in block island

Eat on the porch of the Narragansett.

afternoon in the country

It's been hot in the city (though not as hot as in Madison, Ga., where it was 111 or Peace Valley, Mo., where it got up to 104), so I took a day trip to the country. In furthest Queens I sat on the screened porch in cooling breezes and talked about old times and new lives all afternoon before heading back into the hot town.

glorious garbage

Outside PS 87 is this sculpture the kids made of plastic pop bottles. It sparkles in the sun.

magic underwear

 In the course of writing an article about Brigham Young's 19th or 44th wife, depending on how you count, I made a side trip to investigate Mormon underwear. It is known as "the garment," and you have to be a member of the temple (and prove it) to buy it in a special store. It used to be a union suit, but as you can see it has been updated. There are still tiny embroideries over the breasts, belly and knee that are said to come from Masonic symbols like the square and the compass. You are meant to wear it next to the skin at all times—even under your bra if you are female—though swimming, showering and sex are exempt. Does this make sex spicier?
   Let's ask Mitt. And his wife.

farmer with a beef

This picture is completely unrelated to the entry below except for being green.

The locavore thing has finally hit Block Island. I sent an article about Block Island beef to a friend who runs cattle in the Ozarks that made her tear out her hair. The movement there has gotten as far as buying heirlooms at the farmer's market, but there is not yet a huge market for organic anything.
     There is a large "organic" ranch there, but she reports: "All they have to do to certify their beef as "all natural" is to go to a sale barn, purchase cattle, take them back to the ranch & turn them loose for 3 months to graze. Most farmers put growth pellets in the calves' necks, and the organic people buy these same calves. They don't dig the pellet out of their necks. To me there is a huge difference between my calves which have never had ANY hormones/antibiotics & corn fed calves that have implanted hormones." She concludes, "Here I am plodding along & the most I get is $1.50/pound for true grass fed, all natural beef. Everything is marketing!"
   So I had this thought. If I had a market for her beef here in New York City, I could run a load back when I go out there. Might not be local, but the quality and price point could make up for it. Then I had this same thought about a friend's organic heirloom tomatoes in Alabama.
 And then I had this vision of myself in a refrigerated truck highballing it into the city with a load of frozen beef or perishing beefsteaks (or rather Brandywines). Want any?

photo news roundup

There is a lot of action among Foto Friends. Here are a few links.
Maggie Steber has an incredibly moving project about the death of her mother on MediaStorm, which is floating the concept of pay-per-view. You can watch the trailer for free or pay like $1.99 to watch the 15-minute short.
   Our favorite National Geographic photographers have banded together to promote their work, as reported by Joe McNally, the same man who, tearing out his hair in a dark concert hall with Travis Tritt on stage said, "Light, Claudia. Photography means engraving with light!"
  Speaking of Geographic, Lynn Johnson got the main feature this month with a beautiful portfolio about languages that are disappearing.
  Chien-Chi Chang is making a video of a recent Magnum shoot in Rochester to memorialize the death of Kodak. And on a more personal note he is now the father of Emily Yuming Chang, 張羽明.
   And in my own personal photo news, my granddaughter Camilla (above) is pictured en route to her first day of preschool.
   Which she loved.

  

rockin out

Emerging band Alabama Shakes rocked Central Park yesterday in a free concert, collecting a wildly enthusiastic and for the most part very young crowd. It was also Gay Pride day, so some audience members had hiked uptown from the parade.