December 27, 2014, 12:48 PM Keith is driving and I am riding
and we are going up to get Keith's brother Paul and take him to see Keith's Mom, ML for ML’s ninety-third
birthday and a belated Christmas. Neil,
Laura, Rachel Nathaniel and Sophia are also coming, and Graham says he’s coming
too. We haven’t seen Neil’s family since
Easter. Neil is my husband Keith's son.
It’s been raining but seems to have stopped. I am down fifteen minutes on recent walking
from yesterday, but our day will be so busy today we might not get to walk.
It’s grey. “It’s a
grey morning . . . “ Gordon Lightfoot.
I wish I’d remembered that I wanted to bring the story, “returned
unhurt,”[1]
and try to type it in while driving, but I did not remember. I want to type it in and post it to Cowbird
and dedicate it to Turtle. But I
didn’t. Some other time, if I can even
find it. It might be in the box on the
sewing table.
I would like to use this time for some good purpose. But I am not properly prepared to do any
serious work. I didn’t prepare any “assignments.”
1:12 PM we just picked up Paul, wished him a merry Christmas
and happy new year. I think we were
about ten minutes late getting him.
4:35 PM well, the party is over, and a rip-roaring party it
was. Paul, Keith and I arrived first,
and were there quite a while. I gave ML
the cards I made for her, and then Neil, Laura, Rachel, Nathaniel and Sophia
arrived. I let the kids open their
gifts. They were small gifts. Each had a $20.00 attached. Then Graham and Kristina came, and then Ben
and Chuck Persick (sp?) came and we brought out the champagne, pie, fruit bread,
cookies, etc. Unfortunately, I kind of
pigged out. It kind of makes me feel bad, sad, upset.
5:07 PM now we have
dropped off Paul back at his place and are headed for the Clinton River Park North,
to take a walk. It is getting dark. But we have passed the solstice and the
evenings, little by little are getting longer.
(Or, will be shortly.)
K says, “what is the
name of the country where people with the name of Tarpinian come from near Turkey
and the Turks did a genocide on them in 1910?” Out of the mists of my fuzz mind
came Armenia so I said, “Armenia?” and he said yes. J
And was all pleased. J
Sophia is in second
grade and is seven years old. Nathaniel
is in fourth grade (nine?) and Rachel is thirteen and in eighth grade. Sophia
is taller than Nathaniel. They have all grown
a LOT. Rachel also seems much more grown
up. She was wearing tall high-heeled
leather boots. (These are three of our grandchildren.)
6:34 PM we walked
one hour and one minute along the Clinton river from late twilight to full dark
in a very light misting drizzle warm enough that I took off my hat and
coat. The car thermometer says 49°. The light rain speckles the windshield with
diamonds, sparkling from the streetlights.
Other than eating
“bad food,” I enjoyed the party more than I expected I would. There was pandemonium of sorts, because there
were so many people milling around in a small space all talking at once, but it
was friendly and cheerful and fairly pleasant and fun plus I got to squeeze
Sophia. She sat in my lap a lot. She was pretty in a white satin dress with a
built-in veil-like appendage. She had on
brand new black leather boots, not as tall as Rachel’s. Nathaniel was dapper in a long grey and black
plaid shirt of a fine smooth woven cotton, many threads per inch. Sophia is taller than Nathaniel.
I am getting a cramp
in the back of my left hand from holding Winnie. We are going to stop at ML’s house and do
some more packing on the way home. Guess
I will turn this off in preparation, as we are approaching Garfield and Utica
roads.
7:45 PM now we are
back in a fully loaded car, trunk jammed with stuff, back seat jammed with
stuff, headed home. We have not had
dinner, so when we get home, we need to unload the car (where we’re going to
put an entire carload of mostly books I can’t say), make dinner and go to bed. And we’re tired from a long day and I didn’t
work on Frankie’s France book or anything else (I mean like novel or poetry or
anything I need to get done like cleaning, packing and prep and wrapping etc.
for Syracuse not that there is much to wrap, there isn’t.) (Not much at all L!)
(But what little I have still needs to wrapped.)
(I took pictures, but haven't downloaded them yet.)
Hope your holidays were fun!!! Fun of love, joy, happiness, good health.
[1] Later: I looked for the story that I wanted to work
on, “Returned Unhurt,” but could not find it.
I may have taken it to R’dale in one of my invisible cleaning furies. I’d like to find it, take it on the trip to
work on.
