Midsummer thoughts

It is full summer now. Time sneaks up on me and I see the goldenrod is beginning to bloom. The hayfields are slow growing in the heat—the second cutting just finished. We turn towards late summer’s crackle and haze.

I am glad for my neighbor’s pond—“Nevin’s Pond”—where generations of kids have played and fished thanks to the generosity of the Nevin family. My children have been having a wonderful time swimming and kayaking and looking for snapping turtles. In the evenings the twilight mist lifts off the water and the kids fish for bullheads. This is the idyllic part of living here, the good part of staying here, as I have done; or of vacationing here; or buying homes and settling in.

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Be it ever so humble

Well, you know how that one ends. Yes, it’s true; I am home. Even though I have been (on the rare occasion) known for hyperbole, or heard through the grapevine to have used exaggeration to drive a point, I stepped off the plane a few days ago in Newburgh, NY and literally got down on my hands and knees to kiss the ground.

Breathing in the fresh mountain air, accompanied by an enormous sigh of relief that Mom has, once again, pulled through, I flew (with Dharma, the wonder-dog) back from Florida, for the most part unscathed. The puppy traveled like the perfect pet that she is and cheered Mom up in the process.

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