Someday I Hope to Live By Water

Today I drove up Door County to spend the afternoon knitting with my friend KS.  But first I stopped at the quilt store in Sturgeon Bay to pick up some fabric she needed.  Of course I couldn't resist buying some fabric for myself.  One day there'll be a Dress no. 1 out of this.

It was a perfect day.  Look at the view from our shady knitting spot.  There was a light, cool breeze blowing ashore from the bay and the sun sparkled on the water.




Every time I looked up from my knitting I saw this tree.


(can you tell I was playing with my new camera and the longer lens that I found in Durwood's camera bag that just happens to fit it?)

Earlier this week there was a small article in the newspaper about an oceangoing freighter from Egypt arriving in Green Bay with a load of road salt.  It said that usually oceangoing ships offload their cargo into lake freighters but this was an experiment.  You know how much I love the fact that ships come here, right?  Well, I looked at the bay as I drove over the tallest bridge almost home and there right next to the bridge was the superstructure of a ship unloading salt. Being the resourceful woman that I am, I turned right instead of left when I got off the highway and drove over to the coal company where the salt is piled.  I couldn't get closer than the street in front of the yard; there were big signs predicting dire consequences if unauthorized persons (me) entered.  I looked and looked but didn't see an Egyptian on deck or anywhere.  Rats.  When I got home I looked up the Egyptian flag colors (red, white, black) so that I can knit the next Seaman's Church Institute cowl with those colors.  I know I'm a dork but at least I'm entertaining.



When I drew the shade over the bed just now this sliver of a moon tempted me outside to see how the new camera is at moon shots.  Not bad, it does some preparatory whining before snapping the shutter but it was worth it, I think.





04 August--Barbara Malcolm, Horizon. 

I sat down on Friday night as usual on the couch with my writing desk on my knees to write letters my sons and their families.  Those letters were filled with the usual chat about how I was feeling, how the garden was growing, everyday stuff.

I saved the real news for my sister’s letter.  I couldn’t decide if I was happy about the way things had been moving on “the Abel front” or not, but I figured writing to Lydie would, if nothing else, help me gather my thoughts.

Before I took time to analyze I plunged in:

“Dear Lydie,” I wrote, “I can’t believe the way my life has changed lately.  Ever since I got back from The Clearing I’ve felt different.  Being up there with strangers for a week, people who hadn’t known me when I was a mouse, seems to have spilled over or gone on or somehow made a lasting impression on me.  Those days in that utopia of painting, living in a community of artists and writers, have somehow freed me to be myself and let the rest of the world shift for itself.

Anyway, the most amazing news is that last week I finally gave in to Abel and went on a date.  A date!  Can you believe it, Lydie?  I went on an actual date, with a “boy,” and survived.  I’ll admit that getting ready I felt a bit like I was having an affair, cheating on Bert, but I sternly reminded myself that Bert has been dead for over eight years and wouldn’t want me to cloister myself.

                       Abel wouldn’t tell me where we were going so I just dressed up and went along for the  ride.  We went to that swanky restaurant, Tarragon, up on the bluff east of Simpson.  It was gorgeous, so beautifully decorated, and the food was delicious.  But the most amazing thing was how I felt with Abel.  All these months I’ve been trying to convince myself that he was pompous and arrogant and a whole bunch of negative things, when in reality he’s well-read, an art lover, and absolutely fascinating to talk to.  He’s got a great sense of humor and, Lydie, I have the feeling that he’s not hurting in the money department, either.

But best of all, he’s a really good kisser.  I can’t believe I just wrote that.  He makes me feel like I’m in high school again, panting after some cute boy.  I feel like I should pass notes in study hall and giggle at my locker with the other girls but, Lydie, when I’m with him that’s just how I feel.  My heart pounds, my breath gets short, and the thoughts I have ought to send me running to the confessional.  Don’t get me wrong, he’s been a perfect gentleman and I’ve managed to control myself but don’t know how long that will last.

The worst thing was, one of Kingman’s biggest gossips, Helen Shultz (you remember her?  She was a year ahead of you in school), was at Tarragon that same night.  She didn’t waste any time spreading the word that Abel and I were there, too, and holding hands.  Evidently she waved at me and even called my name but I was so consumed with my own thoughts, and Abel’s blue eyes, I never noticed her.  Of course, she told everyone that I snubbed her and now she gives me the cold shoulder whenever she gets the chance.  I am not going to revert all the way back to grade school and run up to her and fall all over myself apologizing for not seeing her.  Small-minded people like Helen can just stew in their own juices as far as I’m concerned these days.

Anyway, Abel and I have another date next week.  He wants us to go to the movies.  Maybe he’ll put his arm around me in the dark.  I can’t wait.  More later.

Love, Gail”

(I don't know why that one paragraph isn't indented but it won't let me fix it.  Sorry if it bugs you.) Tomorrow I get to have lunch with the St. Agnes Class of 1965, take LC to tennis after day care, and have a friend here for supper, oh, and I plan to go to the Y after lunch to work the machine circuit, then swing by the library next door to the Y for Chris Hadfield's book of photos, You Are Here, Around the World in 92 Minutes.  I've read his An Astronaut's Guide to Life on Earth and really enjoyed it so I'm looking forward to seeing photos he took from space.
--Barbara