I went to Heritage Gardens in Sandwich today. I like it there. I first went a few years ago when there was a lot of family in town and I really needed to spend some time alone. I asked if anybody wanted to join me, and when everyone made a polite excuse I knew I had found my home away from home. (Side note: I should probably talk to someone about my steadily-increasing inability to deal with too many words. It bodes ill for my future, I figure.)
I went today with my new camera hoping to learn some of its settings. The sky was overcast and very few flowers were in bloom. The classic cars exhibit, though, has always appealed to me, and so I was happy to go in there.
I’ve never cared at all for cars. Once, at a party in Queens, a friend of mine offered to show everyone his dad’s Ferrari, and everyone—male, female, young and not-so-young—leaped to their feet and went out to simply stare at this car. I suppose it was a fancy car. Maybe I’m just really unsentimental. I feel like a car should get me from point A to point B with a reasonable amount of comfort, and have air conditioning because I don’t like wind blowing in my face. Everything beyond that is, I don’t know, not interesting. So I really couldn’t understand why everyone was standing around staring at the engine of a car that wasn’t even going anywhere. A car that the owner confessed he almost never drove anywhere because he was worried about it getting damaged. Go figure. Go all the way to Queens to look at a parked car. I slipped away and declared dibs on all the best apps. Continue reading “Heritage Gardens and Museums”
I read Moby Dick at the start of this year, and while that book did nothing to influence my decision to take a whale watching cruise yesterday, I did reflect on what I’d read during the voyage.
(Don’t think me too smart, though: because it was a three-hour tour, I also hummed the theme to Gilligan’s Island for most of the trip.)
(And, more embarrassingly, I hummed the Titanic song whenever I went to the prow of the ship. I actually hum this song whenever I am on a boat. Any boat. Cruise ships, car ferries, log flume rides. Anything. It never gets old for me. I didn’t even like that movie.)
The whale watch left from Barnstable on Cape Cod. It was a jet-powered ship, meaning it had no turning parts that could injure the less-thoughtful whales. I imagine a teenage whale, perhaps looking too intently at his or her whale iPhone, stumbling into a rotor, but I guess that probably isn’t how it works. Continue reading “Whale watching in Massachusetts “
I promise I didn’t intend to just walk away the way that I did—a number of things suddenly came up and got in the way.
To be fair, though, I did intend to take a break. The last story I published wasn’t a story at all, it was bits and pieces cobbled together from a novel I’ll never write. I was a bit bummed when I hit “Publish” on it because it wasn’t any good, but then I had my schedule to keep so I did. It was time for a break.
I hadn’t meant to stop right away, but then my chickens died. I learned later that an outbreak of highly-contagious avian influenza (“really bad bird flu”) in this region. My poor free-range chickens must have been infected by some random bird that stopped in my garden on the way to or from Lake Victoria. One of them was sick on Sunday, and by Tuesday all were dead. A veterinarian advised me to euthanize them once it became clear that they had all been exposed, but I wasn’t sure I had the strength, physically or emotionally, to do it quickly and cleanly. Instead, when their seizures hit, I scooped them up and stroked their backs and whispered to them to keep them calm while their little hearts gave out.
Continue reading “It’s been a while”