still wondering why I’m amazed what one discovers in each move, why, unpacking is almost like Christmas, even the delights of discovering the workings of another’s mind, like Evelyn’s neat way of wrapping electrical cords to appliances (Mennonite heritage appears in curious ways) moving forward, rather than sideways or backwards on ice, your friend who made it thus far and nothing much broke
Tag: Relationships
Some families are closer than others
In my novel What’s Left, Cassia’s great-grandfather and his brother marry two sisters. One is named Diana. As is her granddaughter, Cassia’s mother.
How did your grandparents meet? Were they childhood neighbors?
Return to sender
still owe you that tango but don’t know if you were a better cartoonist than editor or publisher all we have is that moment of dancing between the line we’ve drawn on the beach defying the tide where we swim more freely than birds in flight, then before the last note Zippers
No, it’s not always business as usual
My first published novel ends as the protagonist joins with five hippie siblings who run a restaurant they’ve just inherited.
My novel What’s Left returns to the scene, to find the family’s prospered under the alternative approach.
Do you know any “retired hippies” who did quite well professionally? Tell us about one.
~*~
Do we see the sound of the ringing bell in our ear?
guys generally do the old zip in, zip out, knowing what we want before setting forth, grab only that, where most women look and look and look maybe even find a great bargain so the rare day I actually enjoyed being waited on, asking questions, getting directions from clerks who sensed they weren’t even going to get any income from me but what the heck, gave them something to do and someday I might even be back even though I didn’t find that much of what I was looking for who knows . authentic India incense (sweeter, more potent than the others), so it’s grins
They’re not necessarily pipe dreams
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?
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?
