I meant to write this letter yesterday, so I could wish Eliot a happy birthday, not a happy belated birthday. Hope you had a good one Eliot.
Instead, I went out to work in the garden and promptly hurt my back. Should have stayed inside. Still, it was fun while it lasted, weeding, trying to start the rototiller and failing, hauling bags of mulch, raking up the ashes from the brush burn last week, filling the wheelbarrow with mulch from the compost pile. Hmm. I probably should have stretched before starting out on this project list. And the tree guy came today, so my assistance was limited.
We had just gotten back from a couple nights on the north shore, one in Salem and the other in Gloucester. I gave a book talk, for the first time in person, for a group of retired foreign service types, and then we continued on to the Atlantic Ocean to spend a night with Cliff and Sheila whose family has a house on the beach. We ate way too much, and had way too much fun. Do they go together? Salem, by the way, is a delightful city, and we walked through two museums, the House of the Seven Gables and the Peabody-Essex. Our lone connection to the overly touristy witch stuff was to visit a memorial recently put up to the 20 people (19 women and one man, if I remember right) executed for witchcraft in the late 1600s.
Are these letters only about travel? Hopefully not, but travel is the break in the routine that seems worth mentioning. Pop regaled us with his haircuts, trips to the dump, and shopping at Spags. Anyway, we had spent the previous weekend also near the beach, in Rhode Island, with Marj and Lew. We tried to go for a walk on East Beach, but after 20 minutes of a fierce wind and cold temps, we headed for the safety behind the dunes.
We also took the time to check in on Mary Fort, and Maura, Steve and Elsie. Elsie was in a vacation camp musical performance with Disney theme songs, including Simon's favorite one about Bruno. Mary Fort was still recovering from back surgery, and she said that Kathleen is completing her doctorate.
We decided to head home by retracing the drive we took many times, from Rhode Island to Pomfret. We stopped to take photos of a grey house, now partially blocked by grown-up trees. The grey paint I was prepared for, but not the peeling, flaking red paint on the barns. Sorry Pop. Should have been part of the sale contract.
We veered off the road by the school and took photos, specifically the dorms where Joe and Annie resided. No big changes there, at least that's what it seemed like.
Annie and Sankar are back from Hawaii, and had a wonderful trip. How could you not in that paradise, or at least that's what I hear. Once home, Annie started her new job, still with Door Dash, and working on broader organization issues in the company.
Joe also traveled this week, to Rio and Sao Paulo, trying to squeeze in visits before Leonor's parents head home when it'll be harder for him to leave the mother alone with three children.
Down in DC, Simon had a week off from school, not because of vacation, but because another child got Covid. Ain't over yet.
How was your Easter? We see the Illinois trio got a lot of loot (pictured here), and we also saw photos of Simon clutching on for dear life the eggs he picked up. We had a quiet Easter dinner at the Red Lion Inn, but our conversation turned to the dinners we enjoyed at the Harvest in Pomfret.
Looking ahead, we'll play hosts to John and Marilyn who will escape Florida heat for NY cold, and Natalie's graduation from Paul Smith College.
Other news? Let's not talk baseball. It will be a long season for a certain team in the Midwest that is angling to get first round draft picks for the next 20 years.
Instead, let's talk Mother's Day. To all the mothers out there, new and veterans, with a nod to those who've gone before. Thank you!
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