Let’s see, aside from fishing for minnows with the new minnow trap seen here (I actually got us to the tackle shop in Newtown, and back, without getting significantly lost… well, I did, but I got us found again), going to the Hickory Stick Bookstore in Washington Depot (quite simply the best bookshop west of the Atlantic Ocean (I’m loyal to Daunt in London, sorry!) and spending all our disposable income, visiting Rollie’s wife Judy’s farm stand at Painter’s Ridge Farm and sampling the watermelon (also coming away with the best peaches ever, and did you know that if you didn’t bar light from reaching growing celery it would be dark green? neither did I), nothing much is happening. Oh there was the night of a rainstorm so heavy that I turned off the fan I always sleep to, and listened to the patter on, variously, the roofline outside the bathroom window, and bird feeder outside Avery’s window, and the sloping, densely-surrounded meadow outside my bedroom window. Blissful.
Wait, there’s also the woodchuck who eats during the afternoon, and the skunk who eats at night, and the deer crossing the road today in front of Quincy, our 1967 Land Rover, and the hummingbird who almost drank from John’s dad’s cocktail over the weekend, and the frog that Baby Jane did NOT like hopping about on a rock in a bowl full of water! “Uh oh! Uh oh!” she said. All was NOT right with that picture.
And our after-dinner trips to Denmo’s for the best ice cream in the world (according to people who eat ice cream, accompanied by people like me who watch people eat ice cream).
We stopped off yesterday to see Jane and Joel on our way home from dropping off Rosemary at the Hartford airport. Sorry, Bradley International Airport. I saw a sign for Midwest Airlines and for a moment misread “Mideast Airlines.” That’s right, nonstop from Hartford, CT, to… Dubai? Jane was most surprised to see us after her nap, and led us from one possession to another, showing us her little world, with a sweaty brow and hair in her eyes. Sweet Joel who had his ginger and garlic chopped for their gourmet stir-fried beef dinner that evening. Well I remember those later-afternoon “she’s about to wake up, better underchef dinner” moments! Sadly we missed Jill who was slaving away at ESPN, but we shall see them for dinner at their place on Friday. I wonder what has happened to the little baby pigeon that fell from its nest during our visit. I wish you could see the little cutout in their fence, shared with their little-boy neighbors, labeled from Jane’s side with the legend “To Milo and Kai” and from their side, “To Jane.” Joel is a perfect dad. These are the exciting events that make up summertime in our neck of the woods. Tomorrow I promise to blog about our babysitting with Jane. Suffice to say, this evening: Joel and Jill have their hands full! She’s a carbon copy of her mother when a baby, and it took two parents and two siblings to help her survive childhood intact. She’s cooking with gas, that girl.
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