The hippie movement redefined Cassia’s extended family. And then their dreams led them in redefining small-business practices.
What would you most like to see happen in the business world where you are?
Tag: Relationships
You were just getting to know the place, in a way I never will
losing everything would have been a disaster (fire, the author’s deep fear, can engulf a building in five minutes – thirteen, we counted) and then once outside, realizing smoke in a neighboring apartment was turning to flames within the building no explanation why the threat of losing my worldly goods didn’t upset me as much as the basic ineptitude that causes delays like that to happen goodbye, manuscripts, notebooks, early drafts, letters, addresses . a writer’s constant fear against the slow art itself, you know, civilly
Unpacking in a new place
This year, the Barn’s largely been cleaning up with posts reflecting my two decades in Dover, a span that brought about a culmination in my life. Marriage, children, an active Quaker Meeting, publication of my novels and much poetry, ocean beaches. It was a rich mix and put me on a huge learning curve, thanks in no small part to my brilliant spouse and said kids.
With my latest Big Project wrapping up and heading (I hope) toward release, I’m in a reflective mood. Why not?
Actually, I’m also feeling at loose ends, before a new routine emerges. I’ll look at that another time.
What I’m not feeling is retired, even if I’m not getting dressed for the office every day. Again, we can delve into that in a future post.
It’s also been a year of big transition for me, holding down the fort aka beach house, camp, summer home before the renovations are in progress and then done.
I’ve been having to master cooking again, which has been a lot of fun, considering the expert advice I can get with a simple phone call, and the reality that I’m quite willing to eat the experiments that fail. (So this is what she means when she says …)
A lot of memories have been stirred up in the process.
Sometimes Eastport reminds me of Port Townsend, Washington, back in the late ‘70s, where Puget Sound collides into the Strait of San Juan de Fuco. It was both a working fishing town and an arts center. And memories, too, of my second Summer of Love, not that coupling was part of the equation here but rather all the chance new introductions.
Downsides?
There’s no nightlife to speak of here, apart from the occasional play or concert. Post-Covid fully, we’ll likely be back to dancing and singing and classic films. And an absence of a number of other things, as I’ll explain sometime in the future.
OK, I do wish our IGA grocery were a Trader Joe’s, and less pricy, but it’s still more varied than an Aldi, at least in summer, when there are far more people in town. We’re way too small for a Market Basket, even if that frugal New England chain ever gets up this far along the New England coast. Practicalities do intrude.
With most of our possessions in storage for now, I’m feeling rather liberated in my spare surroundings. There are days when I wish a certain book or recording were at hand, but I’ve been busy enough to let that pass. We’ll see how much longer that continues.
Holy granola, honey
the summer I thought we’d vacation out West we instead moved there to a new workplace just as I’ve dreamed the parking brake won’t hold the car in place some things don’t change that much and once again, there goes our hard-earned cushion, this time, six steps later, it’s New England and a more faithful spouse, all the same, just as we paid off the barn-repair loan, I was mistaken to think I saw the end coming
How close should two families be?
In my novel What’s Left, Cassia’s grandmother and her sister marry two brothers. One is named Pericles.
Does the idea of siblings in one family marrying siblings in another bother you? Or does it seem like a natural possibility?
Ask me when it begins snowing
what did I know beforehand?) unpacking, making each room orderly, scrubbing and waxing floors, vacuuming, reorganizing files, going to the laundry with all my woven possessions, running errands, and without warning things fall into place
Love springs from some kind of attraction
Cassia’s father grew up in a conventional middle-class family in the middle of the country. It was much, much different from her mother’s upbringing not that many miles away.
As they say, opposites attract. So, from your experience, how about an example?
~*~
Finally, finito
cleansing is more than mere output or holy observance to be done would require not noticing dampness along the wall disclosing leakage what can I then breach anew or newly demolish in the storm churning up from some underside of an altar or anvil? air thickens and clears as a matter of practice with desiccated houseflies or wasps or shards of chimney brick in the attic
The world opened up
The hippie movement opened Cassia’s father’s horizons. He wound up trekking through the Himalayas. Many others hitchhiked through Europe.
What’s the most exotic place you’ve been?
Happening, Mel
yes, you know what they say of bread and roses (well, that gilt-edged smoked gouda’s still in the refrigerator, a rare indulgence from last week’s after-inquest) and legitimate French bread (the stuff in this town only is regular dough inside; what a delight to know immediately with the first knife stroke that THIS was the genuine crusty article) (dinner tonight onion soup with gobs of cheese toasted under the broiler, leafy salad, and baguette slices heaped with Vermont butter. if she’d only been with me) Parbleu, this is weird!
Jnana's Red Barn 