The gardening columnist in the Berkshire Eagle (yes, they have one) last week warned his readers not to transplant seedlings before June 1, despite the warm weather. It was already too late by the time I read it. The voice in my head responded that may have been true 10 years ago, but not now with climate change. Well, guess what? Temps went down into the 30s this week, but luckily no frost, so far. Plants are struggling. But the heat is back on, we fired up the fireplace last night, and probably again tonight.
The good news is that the cold came with badly needed rain, so everything is looking wonderfully green again. We're almost finished with our May projects of compost and mulch and weeding. We have even had a couple of harvests, from the disappointingly meager asparagus corner and one spinach plant that I think Annie and Sankar planted and has sprung alive this year.
Birthdays, though, are the big news, not cold weather. Happy days to Matthew and to Joao-John. From photos on Facebook and Tiny Beans, their days looked as if they were passed in grand, happy style.
And Matthew's birthday is forever linked to Peter and Janet's anniversary, which in turn calls up one of the greatest photos in family history. Happy anniversary.
And, I guess, there's another birthday of sorts, at least above ground. The cicadas are back, in DC, in NC and NJ, too? Andrew S. passed along a few photos worthy of science.
In Brazil, Leonor's mother and step-dad arrived for a long delayed trip. That means that Thomas and Joao-John are sharing a bedroom now, with mixed results, that look cute from here, but, with sleepless nights there, maybe not so cute. I think I forgot to mention that Leonor started her job at the Embassy, in the same public diplomacy section that I worked in, headed up by a guy who I worked with in Mexico City.
Down in DC, Simon has been struggling through a few days at home with fever, coupled with the heat and the cicadas make for some uncomfortable days. We spoke with Annie a couple of times, and she is back to work and dreaming a little of future plans. She also sent photos of a bear wandering through her downtown neighborhood in Asheville.
David called, and the topics barely got beyond baseball (the miserable Reds) and lacrosse, before Mary pulled in the garage, just back from the dentist with news of her broken tooth. He pulled it out, and she is bracing for an implant in the near future, but calls herself Snagglepuss for the moment.
Last night, Ms. Snagglepuss made a toast to our post-COVID world, which I hope isn't a jinx. It's so refreshing to see long lines of cars at traffic lights and go out to eat, which we did this week, indoors and all. In fact, we are about to head off for church, for the first time without masks or on Zoom since March last year.
And speaking of no masks, we see Jeffrey and Melodie have been venturing out to baseball games, probably wearing masks, and perhaps even seeing the Nats play the Reds. But still, baseball, in person.
And, here's another story from old weekly letters. Perhaps too long. This week, I came across a handwritten letter from Pop, from the ICU, from June 17, 1977. It read, in part, "I drove down to the City on Thursday for a 10 AM meeting with Mr. Rahr of the Alumni Council. About 10:30 I began to feel weak and have chest pains, and by 11:00 AM, after a wild ambulance ride from the Princeton Club, I was in a room with nurses and doctors swarming all over me. And the head doctor was Princeton '60 – and you can't beat that can you?" On the back of the letter was another note that read: "This is the letter we sent you in June! It was just returned." Another letter, dated August, spoke of a phone call from Libreville, where, upon my return from a lengthy tour of West Africa, I finally got a number of letters, all mentioning how much better Pop was feeling, with no reference to an "event." So, I called to find out what happened, and it was then we figured out that I had not received the first letter from the NY Hospital ICU.
I kinda feel sad for next generations who will never have such a tale, since a) no one writes letters any more and b) while mail still gets lost, such important news travels instantly, to even the remotest places. Two years ago, I was in a remote corner of Gabon, when Mary called me on WhatsApp to ask me how to work the remote on the TV.
With that, wishing everyone a happy day off on a day of solemn remembrance. Love from up here.
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