Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Southern Point (Or: To Cartagena)
My father, brother Bobby, and Aunt Catherine arrived in Cartagena yesterday, a surprise trip in the wake of the funeral. A part of me thinks this might be evidence of family insanity. Another part of me thinks that stimulus and motion might make sense right now. Besides, it’s cheap and easy to fly to Colombia from Miami-Fort Lauderdale.
A photographic book of Cartagena was passed around at the condo Saturday evening, provoking sounds of much delight and wonder. My aunt Catherine said, “Now why couldn’t Grammy have lived in Cartagena instead of Allentown?” (Grammy, being my father’s mother, who came here from Bratislava.) The plaintive quality of her voice both startled and interested me, as I’d always assumed Catherine loved Allentown as if it were a person. “Because it looks exactly like Bratislava!” Bobby cried, making everybody laugh.
I, on the other hand, am relieved to be back home, where I can more or less stay put for a while. (Well, a week. More on that later.) We got here Saturday night, and it was startling to find out that we actually live in a place where on Memorial Day people don’t blast their pool speakers or scream woo-hoo on cue every two seconds. The world certainly needs people who are having fun; I just don’t want to live next door to them any more. Stocking up seems to be in order, which is why we took a detour to Stony Brook on Saturday, where we bought two carts' worth of groceries from Trader Joe’s and as many plants from Lowe’s as we could fit in the back seat.
A few pictures from my bike ride yesterday. And one of the garden outside my study. Note cold-hardy needle palm: the first time we’ve planted a palm this far north.
Also, beyond that, “Southern Point” from Grizzly Bear’s most excellent Veckatimest, which just came out today.
Southern Point - Grizzly Bear