Edith Wharton loved dogs

She really did. So did her husband. He shaved his favorite dog, Jules, to look like a lion. Which had the unfortunate effect of highlighting Jules' jewels. Especially in the near life-size picture of him I saw on a guided tour of The Mount on Friday.

The Mount is a work in progress at the moment. Some of the rooms reminded me of the Babcia's place in Hampton Falls. Those, of course, would be the rooms that haven't been worked on and look disheveled, Miss Havisham-y. It's strange to think of the time I spent living in such a falling-down house. It almost doesn't seem real. And in fact the Babcia's falling-down house isn't real, anymore. It was completely redone. They moved the kitchen.

You can't go back. I mean this in both the literal and the cosmic sense. I've been lucky to learn this early; it helps me remember to appreciate things as they are, in the moment.

I did that today after I left the office. I stopped by the farmers market by South Station; told the guy at Kimball Farms I'd see him tomorrow when he came to the one near my apartment. The South Station market looks a little lonely and cold compared to Davis Square. I felt very small there.

One neat thing about The Mount being a work in progress is that it hasn't been all roped-off and snootified. There's a sense of individualism in the historic reproductions, as seen in this shot of the dining room:

After our tour of The Mount, H and I checked out the grounds, which includes a pet cemetery. Jules is buried there. I placed my hand on his grave and told him I was sorry about the lion thing but that I was glad he'd had a good long life.