Imagination bodies forth. - Shakespeare
The mancub has heard my stories about the best performance of Midsummer
Night's Dream. The one that ruined me for all other productions. Yes,
THAT good! I wished and wished for many years that the cast would
reunite and perform the play again. They DID! And we drove to Brooklyn
to see it. We arrived a few minutes late, but three seats were saved
for us in the second row. It was as phenomenal as I remembered. So
wonderful to see these friends again!
To my surprise and
delight, on the brick wall outside the theater door was stamped the
puck, rubber stamp that I made for Amo who plays the knavish sprite.
He brought it with him and stamped the wall to surprise me. What a joy
that was!
We drove out to Long Island to stay for a few days and visit with my
mother and friends. On the way we stopped at Bayard Cutting, one of my favorite
childhood haunts. I wanted to show the mancub my favorite childhood
tree, an ancient weeping beech.
In the morning, the mancub
wanted to catch his first snapper. We drove to the dock and dropped a
line in while eating a breakfast sandwich. I told him the stories of
how when I was a little girl I went fishing with my grandpa and awoke
while it was dark to catch the morning tide. My grandmother would bring
us a picnic meal and the salt air seemed to season it.
My friend
Donna (a marine biologist whom I met on the train the summer before)
joined us. She invited us on her boat. She and her husband, captain
Bob, gave the mancub some snapper-catching-tips and he reeled in his
first one.
"My legs are shaking!", he squealed.
Labels: beauty and wonders, ds, road trippin
In the morning, the mancub
wanted to catch his first snapper. We drove to the dock and dropped a
line in while eating a breakfast sandwich. I told him the stories of
how when I was a little girl I went fishing with my grandpa and awoke
while it was dark to catch the morning tide. My grandmother would bring
us a picnic meal and the salt air seemed to season it.
"My legs are shaking!", he squealed. 
