Yesterday I decided to buy a kayak so that I might have an activity to enjoy while I’m there.  My friend Blaine sold me the kayak and he lifted it into the back of the truck, but when I got there I had to lug the thing across the road and then figure out how to get in down an embankment and into the lake.  I slipped and fell and managed to capture it on video.  Embarassingly, I also taped myself talking to myself, something I do constantly, but have never actually recorded.  My kids used to make fun of me mercilessly when they’d catch me talking to myself when I thought nobody was around. Anyway, finally I was paddling across the lake.  

Here’s the video.  If you can’t view it on blog, click here.

I just wish Devin’s college was a little closer so we could see her more. It’s been ten days since she left, and so far I’ve only been able to visit her twice. Also, Denis visited another day for lunch. Oh, and she’s here right now. Her classes were cancelled for today and, well, do you have any idea how hot her dorm is? She called and explained the heat situation and we urged her to hurry home before she expires from heat stroke. People die all the time in dorms from the excessive heat, I’m sure. I just don’t think it’s talked about enough. Oddly, she wants to go back today. For the weekend. What on EARTH could she want to do on a boring old college campus on a hot weekend, when she could be home watching us argue about air-conditioning and how much to feed the dogs?

Oh, while searching for the nest photo, I came across this very sad story.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you. It’s sad.

My work, if you will.

Today, I present, “Two Horses, Two Women” a low-budget film I shot this afternoon and which has a score I stole is an homage to the classic French film, un Homme et une Femme

I’m no longer using YouTube and can’t figure out how to embed on Vimeo, so I’m afraid you’ll have to click below to view.

Untitled from Ann Leary on Vimeo.

It’s a little investment project.

A little fixer-upper.

First, “house” is a rather generous word for the structure that we now own. It’s a boat house that looks a bit like a trailer home. Here is a view of the downstairs. Someday there will be a kitchen here:

I know, just stunning, isn’t it?

But, just out of the range of the camera, to the right, there is a big garage door, which will someday be a series of French doors. When you look out from these doors, you see this:

Here’s the view from upstairs:

It’s tiny. I’ll show you the exterior later, after we have alarms installed. You can’t just go showing your trailer to the world without taking precautions. Somebody might hitch it to the back of their truck and drive off with it.

We’re very excited about the lake house. The kids like to water-ski, I like to kayak and plan to relearn how to sail and Denis likes to skate.  Holly likes to sit on the deck and pretend that she’s on board her very own yacht:

I’m trying to learn how to use some very exciting (and complicated) new software to edit the Julie Klam book trailer.  It’s somewhat time-consuming but I also find it incredibly fun.  I think I just might want to be a book trailer director when I grow up!

I need to sit down with the fabulous Ms. Klam to put some finishing touches on the film masterpiece and then we’ll have it up on the web in no time.

I’ve also been looking at lots of book trailers on YouTube, and so far this is my favorite, just, if nothing else,  for its unmitigated pretentiousness.  I like Mr. Franzen’s writing, but when I first saw this I thought it was meant to be a joke.  As you’ll see, it is not. Mr. Franzen wants to take us to a “still place,” and he succeeds.

Do NOT drive or operate heavy machinery after watching this video.

Maybe it’s because I had a bit of a rough time becoming a parent in the first place. Maybe it’s because, for reasons that defy conventional laws of probability or psychology or even the luck of the draw, my husband and I have been blessed with two wonderful, beautiful, wise, caring, funny, creative, hard-working ….oh, enough. Suffice it to say that we have two great kids and yesterday we dropped the youngest off at her college and it was a very exciting day for all of us, and also a little sad.

Dropping her off isn’t the best way to describe what happened, as it sounds like we sped past, slowing down just long enough to deposit her and her bags at the curbside and then raced off. In fact, we drove there rather slowly and got lost, even though it’s not a terribly long drive from our house.  We were just all a little nervous, I think.  And we had formed a sort of caravan which always makes for a tricky drive.   Devin and I led the way (she drove, I gave bad directions), followed by Jack in one car and Denis in a third car.  It’s not that she had so much stuff, it’s just that that we all wanted to take her and then afterward, we were all heading off in different directions.

We finally found the school, and as we drove through the gates and all the welcoming older students cheered hellos and guided us to her dorm, I saw a slow, confident smile come across her face. She was driving.  I think that was important, that she drove us into her new life – an adult now, she our guide, and we her temporary passengers.

I thought about the first time she drove off down our driveway without me. I thought about the first time I left our older son, Jack, with a babysitter for the first time, and then about the day we dropped him off at college. It feels, when you first leave a child, like the ground drops out from beneath you for a minute, like you’re suspended, floating in space; the umbilicus that once anchored you to something solid and real, severed, once again, leaving you grasping for something. A hand-hold, I guess. You can’t help but think of the little hand you used to hold.

Well, it was what what they call a “bittersweet” time, yesterday.  A young woman who has worked very hard to learn enough facts and information to be admitted to her favorite college is going on to learn who she really is.  So, we helped her get started. We helped her set up her bed and her room. We accompanied her to the office where she received her meal card and then we had lunch with her in the dining hall and talked about how nice her roommates seemed.  Her brother set up her alarm clock and ran out to get her a power  strip and other dorm necessities that we hadn’t thought of. Her father, full of nervous energy, helped people move stuff, asked people if they needed help moving stuff, then moved more stuff.  I helped her make her bed.  Last week,  she and I had bought one of those foam mattress pads and a quilted mattress cover.  We put these on the hard dorm mattress and covered them with the sheets we had bought. Then we hung her clothes, decorated her bed with cheery pillows, placed her framed photos of her friends, her dogs, us, on her dresser. And then there was nothing left to do.   She walked us to the car.  She said goodbye.  Then she turned and walked into that big brick dorm. The dorm is quite imposing. The entrance is arched and fortified with massive slabs of carved stone, like the gateway to a fortress or a cathedral, and even though the doors were propped open, we couldn’t quite see inside from where we stood, though we tried.  I wanted her to look back as she walked away, and I didn’t want her to.  She didn’t.  She walked up the steps and through the great doors and then it was time for us to go.

Devin came to the Bridgewater Fair yesterday and took a few photos.  There I am above,  posing in front of the first-aid tent.  The bandage on my wrist?  Just a little oozing, crusty poison ivy courtesy of Holly, who likes to slick down her coat with poison ivy oil. It’s part of her beauty regimen.

Here’s a very lovely cow. Does anybody know what breed she is?

If you can’t read the man’s t-shirt above, it’s for the Washington Septic Cleaning Company. They “do your doo,” according to the their logo.  I like the logo of our own septic cleaning company, which declares, “Your number 2 is our number 1!”  It’s just more satisfying, somehow.  I like something of mine to be somebody’s number 1, I don’t really care what it is.

Look at these sparkling clean and colorful youngsters, all tuckered out from their morning in the show ring:

Here I am, posing with one of our EMS chiefs, Reverend David Peters. Yes, that’s right, David is the minister of the Congregational Church here in Roxbury, so if you get hurt in our town, David will not only drive the ambulance but, if you’re very nice (and especially if you’re not), David will offer a silent prayer for you.  No extra charge!

We did get a call yesterday, as our chief Bernie Meehan mentioned in the previous comments.  He took this photo which reveals my bravery and fortitude.  See how I am practicing body substance isolation precautions with my gloved hands?  Notice the way I’m managing to walk with my eyes closed so I don’t have to see the anticipated gore of the motorcycle accident that we are responding to?  Yes, you can sleep a little easier in my town, knowing that I’m on the ambulance corps.  When you’re asleep there’s so much less chance of me having to rescue you.

Okay, well for some reason I can’t post the photo. Have tried reformatting every which way.  Perhaps I can reproduce it on my iPod sketch pad. In the meantime, one last photo from fair:

Some of the women on our crew had entered baked things, relishes, eggs laid by their own hens, baked goods and one had even entered a bunny, so when we weren’t handing out band-aids for blisters, we were scooting over to the judging tent to see how they did.  There were some lovely flowers entered:

These eggs were entered by a very shy, quiet member of our crew. She wouldn’t want me to mention her by name but have you ever seen lovelier eggs?  She got a second place!

Some bright sunflowers:

And this….is it a dahlia?  Anybody?

These were the judges who tasted all the relishes, pies, jams, cakes, brownies and preserves:

Well, I’m heading back tonight in case anybody chokes on some fried dough or is launched from the merry-go-round.

The sleeves? Both fashionable and a short-term housing solution

Twenty-one years ago today, Denis and I were married. In honor of our wedding anniversary, I am offering a little relationship quiz. Why not take it to learn more about your own relationship savvy?

1) Denis and I started dating when I was 20 and Denis 25. Considering the fact that I’m now roughly 40 years of age and we lived together for six years before we married, how long have we been together?

a. 41 years
b. Four score and seven years
c. Who’s counting? Every minute with you must seem like an hour; every hour like a day; every day …wait, I’m not sure …I think I meant the opposite.
d. “Roughly 40,” my ass
e. Who cares, let’s get on with the so-called “relationship quiz.”

2) In order to keep a relationship passionate for more than a few years, it is necessary to have the following:

a. Reasonably good hygiene
b. A working knowledge of human anatomy
c. A vivid imagination
d. All of the above

3) Also, having a giant ________________(fill in the blank) helps.

4) Love means never having to say:

a. I’m sorry
b. I’m horny
c. Its garbage day, do I have to carry all these effing bags out myself?
d. There’s a bat on your pajamas

5) Never go to bed:

a. Happy
b. Angry
c. Without enough foodstuffs
d. Dressed as a nurse. Weird how all guys think they look sexy when they try to surprise you by wearing the white tights and nurse shoes to bed. (Right? Hello? Anybody?)

6) Disagreements are inevitable in any relationship. Disputes are best resolved:

a. By acknowledging, immediately, that your wife/girlfriend is right
b. By pretending she’s wrong at first, to give her the joy of a good rant-fest. Then humbly admitting that she’s right.
c. By tuning in and turning on (not to acid, silly, to any televised sports event)

7) You wife’s idea of the dream husband is:

a. Don Draper
b. Really, I’m serious
c. I know he’s a cad
d. You’ll have to trust me on this

Your husband’s idea of the dream wife is:

a. Madonna
b. No, not the one who sings, the other one
c. Jessica Simpson
d. Florence Henderson
e. His mother
f. Seriously, I have no idea

9) Laughter is the best:

a. Medicine
b. Aphrodisiac
c. Emasculating weapon
d. Response to the question, “How much did that cost?”
e. All of the above

10) After twenty-odd years together, we still:

a) Hide the last Haagan-Daz bar from each other
b) Try really hard not to laugh at the other unless appropriate
c) Don’t know where the remote is. Ever
d) Help curb each other’s narcissism/enthusiasm
e) Look like we’re blood kin
f) All of the above

I’m back from Marblehead. Yesterday was the memorial service for my stepfather, Stephen Howe.  Steve was a great man who rescued my family during a difficult time, many years ago. We’re all so sad that he’s gone.

My sister Meg remarked last week that there was never a time when somebody made the connection that she was related to Steve (even though it was through marriage), that she didn’t feel immensely proud.  I know my brother and I have always felt the same way.

Steve has three sons and seven grandchildren and though I  haven’t seen them much during recent years, I got to see them yesterday, and I glimpsed in each of them, a little bit of Steve.  A sly smile here, a confidant stance there, and, of course, Steve’s trademark; an unbiased graciousness toward others and a sense of proper decorum, even amongst the youngest.

My stepbrother David Howe said during yesterday’s service that Steve always believed, foremost, in duty toward his family and his community.  David wrote the obituary for Steve, which can be found here, and which details his military service in World War II and his life-long commitment to serving his community.  David reminded us that Steve was devoted to community service long before it was a trendy thing for students to try to cram into their schedules to impress future college admissions reps.  Steve served others in the most charitable way possible – he did it quietly, without expecting anything in return.  He would have been embarrassed if one were to acknowledge his many kindnesses, as he rather liked to be perceived as a curmudgeon.  In addition to being elected as the Marblehead Town Moderator for 43 consecutive years, he served on numerous boards and also did many, many hours of pro-bono work for people and organizations who needed legal help – again, quietly and selflessly.  The one and only time Steve threatened to resign from his position residing over the town’s meetings was when there was a motion to raise his salary above $100 a year.

Steve was a lawyer in the best sense of the word, by which I mean that he truly believed in justice for all and a duty to observe and uphold the laws.  He was also, in my mind, a Republican in the best sense of the word, and by this I mean that he didn’t care to make reproductive choices for women nor did he care who married whom.  He just believed in small government; in a pure democracy  for these United States that, if it were peopled by people who were all as conscientious toward others as Stephen Howe, would indeed be a wonderful place.

BARTER by Sara Teasdale

Life has loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring fire that sways and sings,
And childrens’s faces looking up
Holding wonder in a cup.

Life has loveliness to sell,
Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
And for your spirit’s still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.

Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstacy
Give all you have been, or could be.