It may be melting down there, but up here it’s 24 degrees, and solid ice. We got several inches between 4-10 PM. We thank Julia Carr for shopping for us, and Hester for a wonderful lunch visit with Emily, Lily and Noah, who are visiting from Brooklyn, and for the hamentaschen which I just had for breakfast, and for all that clean-up: burying compost, emptying trash, etc.
At lunch, Hester and Noah hauled the elephant rocker up from downstairs. There was even time for stories.
And speaking of Brooklyn, we also had a nice visit last week from Dexter and Keri.
We have watched up through Episode 8 of “The Crown,” delighted that at last we are using the new receiver more up to its capabilities. And we’ve almost finished reading aloud Isabel Allende’s The Japanese Lover.
A new revelation yesterday afternoon: Tom said, “If you don’t fill me in, I really can’t tell WHAT’S going on!” Between Queen Elizabeth, Princess Margaret Rose, and Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother, there’s small wonder. And in the Allende book, back and forth over four generations, over a period of 75 years, with two concurrent stories added on, Irina’s and Ichimei’s, Tom now doesn’t carry in his head one thread through another.
He says he loves the reading, the way I read, maybe the sound of my voice, and in fact also the immediate events in the book. He laughs at the jokes. In the TV series at one point, looking at the Queen Mother, he said, “We saw her,” remembering 1979 when we attended the graduation of our friend Håkan Nilsson at Westminster Abbey, when the real Queen Mother was present and very visible, waving happily from the procession. So there it is.
A nice note: a friend’s wife sent an email the other day, watching a hockey game on TV. Her husband, Tom’s classmate at South Kent, had said, “Tom Buell was the best hockey player in our school.”