After the holiday week's flurry of activity and posts, I haven't felt much like posting (which is a shame, because I totally need to finish the week and telling you that Tragedy story). It's not because I don't still love to write this blog, or because nothing interesting has happened (although last and this week's entries will be dull compared to the NYC week:). Frankly I would enjoy writing such posts as "Today I went to the A&P for groceries! Stores here will give you cash for plastic and aluminum to recycle, and at much higher rates than the 45 cents a pound you were getting for coke cans in high school. Looks like the bottle merchant is back in business;" and "Today I beat the hell out of a can of soup because I can not operate a can opener properly. Eventually I punctured the top and cut it open with a pair of scissors like a freakin' M*A*S*H surgeon or EMT wielding the Jaws of Life, a feat which made me feel like a total badass. Eff a stubborn soup can!"
Like I say, I would enjoy writing these, although I don't know that anyone would enjoy reading them. The little unremarkable moments of life, vastly amusing as they may be to the one experiencing them, generally lose something in the retelling. It's like when I tell people about visiting the Shrine of the Infant Jesus of Prague in OK -- no one really gives a damn.
Anyway, it's not like I don't have the time either. I just spent three days down in my basement room (which is a good 15 degrees cooler than the rest of the house), knitting an entrelac sweater for my laptop and watching Dark Shadows on Netflix. Dark Shadows is described on wiki as a "gothic soap opera", which, along with the fact that it was my favorite tv show when I was 5, is pretty much all you need to know about it. But basically I've just been enjoying this quiet house in the woods and the laughably mild weather. It hardly cracks 90 -- I'm loving it so much that on occasion I promise myself to never leave the Northeast. But then I remember: winter. Buh.
When upstairs-girl and her friend are gone, everything is calm and still except for the gentle rustle of that skunk making a nest under the rock pile by the back door. Sometimes you can hear the church bells chime on the hour from way down the road.
If these are the only peaceful days I ever get in my life, it'll be enough.
Watched Moonstruck again yesterday, and had another surreal NY experience. When Cher and Nick Cage go to the opera, as part of a deal where they will discontinue their affair so Cher can marry his brother...
... it's the Met, where I saw the ballet.
"I love two things: I love you and I love the opera. Now if I could have the two things that I love together for one night, I would be satisfied to give up the rest of my life."
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