Hoopster, too?
Kinisi 19
almost / mostly / nearly
retro
World map on a brick wall
This piece of art is a lovely addition to an external wall of Dover’s indoor swimming pool.
I suspect the New Hampshire Children’s Museum had a hand in its appearing.
Christos Anesti!
For the Eastern Orthodox, today ushers in 40 days of Pascha, or Easter. It’s not a one-day event, but the joyous response to Great Lent, culminating in the feasts of the Ascension and Pentecost.
IKEA, where small is stylish
The Swedish retailer of low-cost home furnishings, appliances, cookware, and the like is a magnet for folks trying to make the most of tight spaces like apartments. Say a challenge like a 400-square-foot apartment.
Even if you have an old five-bedroom home like ours, the interiors can be challenging. IKEA has frequently come to our rescue. Yes, some assembly is usually required, and I can attest it’s not always idiot proof, but overall, we’ve been pleased with the results.
The closest IKEA superstore to us is located south of Boston, and since deliveries aren’t cheap, it’s worth the four-hour round-trip, even if you get lost inside once you’re there, as I have. The cafeteria, by the way, is quite the bargain.
Are you one of those intrigued by the small-scale living space displays in the IKEA superstores?
What’s your experience been?
I’d love to take a train ride but …
My wife mentioned that she’s seeing a lot of deals from Amtrak, and that had me thinking how overdue I am for a trip on the Downeaster to Boston or the other way up to Portland, Maine, or beyond. As a senior, I even get to ride at half-price.
Of course, Covid-19 came into the picture, and I started flashing through the factors.
If the train’s not crowded, I’d have plenty of social distance. I could also carry hand sanitizer and even wear my colorful homemade mask to reduce risk of exposure.
I’ve been wanting to go to a Boston Symphony concert, finally see their new music director in action, but then I paused, realizing all of those concerts have been cancelled.
My considerations moved on to a visit at Harvard’s famed Fogg art museum, which had reopened after extensive renovations. Well, reopened is the wrong word. For the time being, it’s closed again. Hope the renovations hold.
Ditto, too, for a fine meal, maybe even in the North End’s Little Italy a few blocks from North Station. Forget that during the coronavirus shutdowns.
So it looks like that getaway is off, maybe till autumn? Or sometime next year?
This is getting boring. Or something like that.
Just a friendly reminder
This whimsical public sculpture in Haverhill, Massachusetts, has always brightened our trips down I-495. I don’t know why the dog-bone cutout works so well, but it does, perhaps suggesting that Rusty (or whatever its name) has happily ingested a big treat. The playful open shape even allows opportunities for seasonal additions like a row of pumpkins every October.
So I get this attachment from a favorite funnyman in my life, acknowledging that he’s not the only comedian in the family. His wife and daughter, above, have been sewing Covid masks like crazy and, as dog lovers, they got an impulse to do more.
Look at it as inspiration, either to make your own masks or to make sure you wear one in public.
Ciao and bow-wow!
As the random blahs kick in
So this general shutdown or shelter-in-place or self-isolation, call it want you want, is dragging on and will likely do so. Any novelty’s worn off. I miss my old routine and acquaintances. Can I assume I’m speaking for everyone?
My wife and I are lucky to live in a big enough old house so that we’re not always tripping over each other except in the kitchen. (Not that you care.) We have a big yard, too, which this time of year is beginning to demand gardening attention, getting me outside in the dirt and, well, mud. We also have access to a lovely carriage trail we can follow through a nearby woods to the top of a hill, giving us some decent exercise almost daily.
But I’ve definitely reached the state of blah, even when it’s not one of those dull wet deeply gray days. No, as I draft this, it’s partly sunny outside my window.
So here I am, up in one end of the third-floor attic, while my wife’s “working from home” with an online meeting on the first floor. I hate to walk through that. You know, the little square showing her face in the upper right-hand corner? Anyone else know the feeling? I’d move her to another room, but she’s comfortable in that particular spot. We try to adjust.
I can’t imagine being cooped up in a tiny apartment, much less with kids, though I’m sure that’s the case for many. Even a mobile unit in a trailer park would be way too confining.
What’s shut down goes beyond much of what most of us are seeing. Look, it even includes playgrounds! The one around the corner saved my sanity with the younger one more times than I can count. Let me sympathize with every parent during this duration.
But let’s try to be aware of the wider impact.
Who sez nothin’ ever happens in a small town?
As the sophisticated outsider at the outset of Nearly Canaan, Jaya’s already at odds with the small-town outlook of Prairie Depot.
For some, she’s a breath of fresh air. For others, she’s a threat. Is it enough to ignite combustion?
Her presence bursts into romance, certainly.
But in freeing her suitor from the inhibitions of his strict upbringing, does she create a monster?
~*~
What’s your take on inhibitions? Especially where you live?
Looking into the past
Sometimes when I stop at old Quaker meetinghouses, I’ll try to take a photo of the interior through the windows. Reflections make it tricky, in this case casting an image of me and my camera back at us. What remains is the rustic interior of the 1790 Apponegansett Friends meetinghouse in South Dartmouth, Massachusetts, viewed from the former women’s side of the house, with a set of cedar dividing shutters lifted out of sight in the middle. The gallery for ministers and elders is at the left, and seating for the general membership is at the right. Does it get any simpler than this?
Jnana's Red Barn 