Some quaint streets in Old Town:

The names of the streets? I have no idea.  I lived in Marblehead from 8th grade until college and rode every street and alley on my bike many, many times (I was lazy about getting my driver’s license), but never really paid much attention to the names of the streets.  Fortunately people around here don’t really use proper street names too often, but will say things like, “Across from where Penni’s used to be,” or “Next to the Rippah” which is a great old dive called The Riptide.

Like many Massachusetts seacoast towns, there are a lot of Labrador Retrievers in Marblehead.  Really a lot.  Yesterday my sister and I were outside my mother’s house when a woman walked up with a black Labrador on a leash.

“Is this your dog?” she asked.

“No,” Meg said.  Meg lives across the street from my mother.  ”I think that’s Buddy who lives in the grey house at the bottom of the road,” she told the woman.

“No Buddy is my neighbor,” said the woman. “But I think I brought this dog here once before when he was wandering.”

“That would have been Skippy,” I said. Skippy was my mother and Steve’s old Lab and I explained to the woman that he died several months ago.  The woman then told us that her black Lab looked so much like the one she was walking that she had thought it was hers at first, and then she and Meg ran through all the names of the Labs in the neighborhood and it occurred to me that it was entirely unlikely that anyone in Marblehead has the original black Labrador that he or she started out with.  Later, my mother told us that after Skippy died, she heard a dog’s footsteps walking up her stairs and was startled when a black Labrador wandered into her office.  It was the neighbor’s dog and somebody had found it, thought it was Skippy, and put him inside my Mom’s house.

I think that Marblehead should do with its Labradors what Amsterdam did with the community white bicycles.  People can take a black Lab off the streets when they need one to walk with or to lie by their hearth, and when they’re finished they can just return it to the streets.

I think that’s actually what’s going on, anyway.

People in Marblehead are wicked nice. They’re the balls, as we used to say, and my mother and sister are lucky to be surrounded by such a caring community.

PUTTING IN THE SEED by Robert Frost

You come to fetch me from my work to-night
When supper’s on the table, and we’ll see
If I can leave off burying the white
Soft petals fallen from the apple tree
(Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite,
Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea);
And go along with you ere you lose sight
Of what you came for and become like me,
Slave to a Springtime passion for the earth.
How Love burns through the Putting in the Seed
On through the watching for that early birth
When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed,
The sturdy seedling with arched body comes
Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs.

I know it’s short, but my son called security and I had to stop filming.

Happy Easter!

Uncle Sull is my uncle, Thomas Sullivan.  Tom is my mother’s half-brother from my grandfather’s second marriage and he is much closer to my age than to my mother’s age.  When we were kids, Tommy used to come stay with us during our summers in Michigan and Wisconsin.  Tommy was a city kid, born and raised  in Staten Island, and we lived in leafy suburban areas and so he would come and spend some time with us each summer.  He was a kid, and so were we, so it was funny to call him “Uncle Tom,” but I believe we did.  Uncle Tom?  Did we?  He was cool and citified and always about two years ahead of the fashion wherever we lived.  For example, he visited us in bell-bottoms when we were little, and all wearing regular jeans, then a few years later, we were wearing these giant bell-bottom jeans and he was wearing skinny jeans and hightop Keds.  We must have seemed like such hillbillies to him.

Now I hope Uncle Sull won’t mind if I reveal that he wasn’t always an ultra-conservative. No, Tommy was a bit of a hippy in the 60s,  I so wish I had photos of him.  He had long hair and was into all sorts of counter-culture stuff of the times that drove my very conservative grandfather crazy.  Not sure when he pulled the old switcheroo on us liberals, but we have many people in my family with all sorts of diverse political viewpoints and because of this, I try to never discount a person based on their political views.  I have to say that I believe liberals are a little more close-minded in many ways than some conservatives I know, when it comes to judging others’ political viewpoints. I have friends that insist that they cannot be friends with Republicans or conservatives and that makes me feel sorry for them and their very constricted perspectives, as some of my smartest and nicest friends are Republicans.  Really!  We just don’t talk about politics very much.

But back to Uncle Sull.  I asked him to send me a photo of him and his beloved Newfoundland dog, Buckley and he sent me these.  The first is Buckley eyeing a smokin’ hot actor on a bus stop sign:

And here is Buckley with Uncle Sull, himself.  They don’t always walk around waving the American flag. It was Memorial Day:

Well, I hate when people show you the photos of their holidays and say, “Oh, this is the so-and-so, where we ate such-and-such.”  So I’ll just post a few photos and you can enjoy the scenery and I’ll be happy to answer and questions.  The internet is VERY slow here and I’ve not been able to catch up on all your comments.  But I will!  Happy Thanksgiving!

Okay, I’ll answer your questions about the above shots now. Yes, the Christmas tree is being decorated in front of the Cathedral of Notre Dame.  And, yes, the guy in the crane is giving the finger to the people below, who were all hooting and jeering. In front of the sacred Cathedral. I absolutely LOVE the French.  Oh, our guide gave us her opinion on why the French are such huge fans of American comedians like Jerry Lewis and Jim Carrey.  It is because they always try to be very dignified and correct (except when decorating trees in front of churches) and the American comedians who are the most outlandish with their facial expressions and general physical movements are the most hilarious, in their opinions.   This made sense to me.  I know many Americans have been puzzled by the French love of Jerry Lewis, because many Americans, especially those of my generation just never thought he was that funny.  According to our American guide that’s because we know a lot of people who act like goofballs.  The French do not know so many.

Remember what I was saying about my posing problem?  Just point a camera my way.

The photo below is of me posing with a certain man of the blog. Does anybody know who this mysterious Francophile is?

Yesterday, we walked and shopped.  It was raining but just a little and very mild.

Then last night, we went out to dinner.  Devin and I got a little dressed up.  The guys, not so much

We ate here:

Sorry, no flash.  It was called Le Bistroit St. Honore, and oh my dear Lord, it was delicious!  The family wouldn’t allow me to take photos of the escargots, salads, steak frites and lamb stew that we devoured.

On the way home we saw these interesting wigs displayed in a window:

This, of course, was my favorite:

Yes, the pony bouffant was made completely our of human hair!  Tres chic!

The puppies need names.  I’ll introduce you to each and we can help Charlotte think of appropriate names.  Also, all five four puppies are still available for adoption.  Charlotte will only consider very good homes. She’s asking for a $50 adoption fee which she will then turn around and use to pay the adoption fee at the kill shelter where she finds dogs to rehome.  So, for each of Peanut’s puppies that finds a new home, an older, perhaps needier dog will be rescued.

Now,  let’s meet the puppies.  First, Male Number One:

Male 1

This bold fellow has a lovely white bib and likes to greet new friends with a gregarious “high-five.”  He thinks it’s cool.  We won’t tell him how dated it is (plus, puppies can’t make a fist for the fist bump). His coat is black now, but it has brown highlights and will probably lighten up a little as he matures.

And this is his only brother, Male Number Two:

Male 2

This wrinkly-nosed snuggler seems to have a bit of hound in him.  He will likely be short-coated, and, like the others, on the small size.  It’s impossible to hold him without smiling, as Devin is demonstrating.

Now allow me to introduce the girls:

Female 1

Yes, she’s a blonde bombshell and the eye-catcher of the crew.  This chubby love-bug might have to watch her figure as she matures.  She loves her meals.  Charlotte thinks she’s the smartest of the litter, so take that blonde-mockers.

Her sister, Female Number Two, has a pretty white bib and two little mittens, and a white beauty spot under her chin. Like her sisters, she shows signs of having a whiskery terrier face and coat:

Female 2

And finally, my personal favorite, darling little Female Number Three:

Female 3

Devin and I fell for her.  Hard.  Can’t really explain why.

Devin is working on her college applications and last night she made the mistake of telling me the topic of one of her essays.  It was something like: If you had to come up with a title that would describe your life up until now, what would it be?

Devin joked that she was considering calling her life Of Mice and Bats.

This got me started.  I wanted to help.  ”How about The Beautiful and Damned?”  I offered.

“No,”

“A Little Princess!”

“Mom!”

“The Scarlet Letter!”

“Okay, stop, I really don’t need your help.”

“The Bad Seed!”

“I’m going upstairs now.”

“Psycho! The Creature From the Black Lagooon! Apocolypse Now”

Silence.

“The Thing!”

What will she do without me next year?

I mentioned in a recent comment that Batman dropped by last week.  I wasn’t here, but when I arrived home, the guys working on my bathroom told me he had been there all afternoon and had rigged up some contraptions that would rid the house of bats for good.  I hadn’t noticed any contraptions, so I went back outside and saw what he had done.

Oh Batman!  Dear, sweet, misguided Batman!

There’s a slideshow on the Times site and I’ve nabbed some photos to post here.  The photographer, Andrew Sullivan, was really great, as was Beth Maker, the reporter.

Now do you see why I love that grey horse almost more than life itself?  Have you ever seen a horse with a sweeter expression. Love.

Here I am trying to be all pose-y.

Well, it’s hard being photographed next to HIM.  He always looks good..

I’m still trying to sort our how to arrange photos in this new format.  Is it weird to have typing in between the photos like this?

Here’s a shot of our home:

Please go on the site if you want to see the slideshow.  There are a few blog mentions, so everybody on their best behavior tonight.  Tea bags are for brewing tea!

So I adore her.

They wanted to photograph us outside with the animals, so we let Mark and Snoopy come down onto the front lawn. When the Times people left, it was still gorgeous out, and I thought I’d check my emails while enjoying the company of the horses. They were very interested in the computer and what I was typing, certain that it was about them.

I showed Snoopy some photos that I had taken of him recently:

He clicked on his favorites. That lip works quite well on the keys:

Then I got a kiss.

Mark was worried about the way he looked. He thinks I should have left his mane alone. It’s impossible for me to look at this horse without smiling:

Later, he had a word with me. He doesn’t like the direction the blog is taking. He feels it’s too “doggy.”

Here’s Dev and Snoopy. Snoopy just adores Devin:

What’s not to love?

Today it’s raining, so I must work indoors, without my assistants.

All photos (except the photos of her) were taken by Devin Leary.