A Favorite Corner of John's House
One very wet weekend when the whole of New England felt as if it were heading out to sea, my friend John invited me, my daughter Maren, her husband Nathan, the two grandkids Bae and Reeve plus the collection of pugs (Dino, Lulu and Moss) to his amazing and wonderful house in Provincetown. It was the day after Wally’s death…my choice was to sit and sob at home or to wander off to P.Town with this delicious cast of characters and be caught up in great food, wonderful friends, lovely ambiance…do I need to tell you what I chose!
One of Many Cabinets in John's House
The whole of John’s place is akin to a Cabinet of Curiosity. Around each corner is something that surprises or delights. The bedrooms with their peeled wallpaper, exposed raw plaster and furnishings of antiques make you want to stay forever. I had the front bedroom on the second floor and from my bed, if I leaned in just the perfect way over to the left, I could see the beach and watch the waves whip over the hull of several small boats moored out there off shore. The storm raged for three days…water collected in puddles the size of wading pools down Commercial Street. We ate fine meals, played a game or two and read books by candlelight.
Front Parlor
Detail of a Favorite Stoneware Bowl
Bae with Lulu and Dino
Beech Forest Trail
Before the rain began in earnest, we went to the Beech Forest Trail which was a pure Mary Oliver experience. Mary Oliver is one of my all-time favorite poets; she lives in P.Town and has written of this trail and the surrounding dunes. There were birds of all kinds in the bare trees, many of which swooped down and ate seeds from our open hands. We saw a small nuthatch, the plain titmouse and a number of chickadees with an occasional cardinal. The sky was a threatening grey, the wind was just beginning to perk up but in our little corner of the path all was right with world.
The Last of Summer's Leaves
Well, what can be said of a Tuesday…the middle of February, the dead of winter and another snowstorm. My friend Diane labeled it this morning: “restless” that’s what she said. It is true I want to take up belly dancing and get a wild tattoo. I want to throw a few worn out linens in the suitcase and head for the sun. I want some cold outrageous coconut drink, and I want to sip the whole thing poolside with a sweet young pool boy who delivers it to my chaise lounge. I am wearing the worn linen trousers, and the sun is covering my bare feet…my face is, of course, protected by a big colorful shade umbrella.
I went to see Jeff Bridges in Crazy Heart yesterday, and I left the theater with an urge to head west. And once I got there, I would walk into one of those bars that dot the side roads of Nevada. I can imagine the smell of such a place, having been there more than a time or two. It would smell of stale smoke and wet wool and spilled beer, and the bar itself would be rubbed smooth. The tall bar stools would have chrome legs and tired leatherette seats. In fact, the whole place would look a bit tired. There would be a juke box playing Western songs, and I would settle right in way over there in the dark corner, and I would watch the world happen.
Parked out front, at odd angles, would be pick-up trucks with dented bodies and back ends littered with assorted pieces of ranch life like shovels and maybe a big black and white Blue Heeler just waiting for his master. There would be hay scattered on the worn bed of the truck and, you just know, there would be a gun rack and bumper stickers from political parties I would have nothing to do with! But I would love the scene for the moment and for that time “restless” would not enter my world!
My mother could get restless, and when she did the whole house would shift. Moving furniture was an art form for her…something one did when all else seemed so the same. Over her lifetime, she shifted the bathroom at the house on the corner of 6th & G Streets three times….the sink, toilet and tub went from Avocado to Harvest Gold. In the end, they were all Mauve…her final and most cherished color! Of course, this shifting, which grew from “restless,” required a plumber and a carpenter and took weeks to manifest…but it cured her “restless” for the time being.
