Quiet time

I've been neglecting this blog as of late, mostly because I can't get out of my own way when it comes to my writing. I think about what I want to write, then I think about how it sounds, then I think about what the three people who actually read this will think. And then I'm stuck.

Sooooooooo...doing my best to forget the audience is the new plan.

On Friday I took the subway in to the MFA for my second visit to the new wing. I met my friend H there and we made our way through painting after painting of pink-cheeked, small-nosed crackahs that look a whole lot like our friend A. A is descended from Mayflower riders on one side, and the Dutch who settled New York on the other. Man is that gene pool strong.

After a disappointing lunch of brown salad and dry cheese at the new cafe, H and I retired to the basement sampler room to chat. The museum was pretty empty, probably owing to it being a weekday in winter, and this made it feel like we were sitting in someone's living room. It was lovely. I especially liked being in a room filled with the works of women, whom I'm sure would have been very happy to see how far the fairer sex has come.

H had to leave early because she had a bad headache. After walking her out, I headed back down to the basement and sat under the beams of an ancient (for this part of the world) house and used the museum's free wifi to map out a walking route to Whole Paycheck, because I was all out of broccoli and oranges.

Underground

I discovered another secret passageway at the LNFU while trying to make my way back from one office to another, after having been shown a different path that required unlocking a door for which I do not have a key.

Yet.

Anyhoo, I decided to try an unmarked, unassuming door and ended up in an anteroom which led to what I think must be a paleontologist's lab given the various and sundry bones scattered about. There was a woman working in a small room off to the right who didn't even notice me, but I decided to tell her who I was and why I was there.

(When I was younger I might not have but these days I hardly do any exploring at all without permission. I just have this sense that I'm in a place where I have the wrong amount of wrinkles to get away with things. Although I was talked into walking right up to a giant white windmill on the North Shore on Sunday, and then tilting at it, by Walnut.)

The woman wasn't super-welcoming but she did show me how to get where I needed to go, which involved going in the basement, and through a hall lined on one side with what looked to be corals and other bone-y things from the sea. The other side was taken up with wooden cabinets, each with a handwritten tag reading "unknown fish" and said fish's country of origin.

In what I am discovering is part and parcel for the LNFU,when I opened the door at the other end of the fishie room I ended up in a completely different space, in feel, decor, and century. This time it was an office, complete with industrial carpeting and conference-room-style furniture.

It bloomed!

My magic crystal garden looks pretty nifty! I wonder if any critters from McPolackland will come by to visit...


...oh wow, it's Veronica the vomiting cow! She looks thirsty.



After Veronica left, Rizzo from the Muppets stopped by. He's in town visiting relatives.

Garden

Boy did it snow today. I got woken up by some thundersnow at around 5 AM. Normally I am woken up by a thundercat, but she was sleeping peacefully in a blankie nook next to me.

In a true shocking shocker, the landlord's kid, who moved into the lovely new and possibly illegal basement apartment built for him, got the old snowblower to work and he snowblew (hee hee) the entire driveway.

Twice.

There is a God in heaven after all. I helped out by shoveling off and out all the cars and one set of steps; later, Walnut stopped by and we pushed the landlord's kid's car out of the snow for him. Then, since today is Walnut's birthday, I gave her a sweet card I'd made this morning, plus some presents. And then she gave me some presents! Including this magic garden, which I just planted. I have wanted one of these things since I was in elementary school and I'd see them in grade-school-teacher McMumsy's educational toy catalogue. It's supposed to grow in 10 hours; I'll post pictures of what comes up.

coinkydink

Sooooooooo on New Years Day I decided to walk over and pay a visit to my five-year-old friend Daisy and her thirtysomething momma A. While on my way I hesitated briefly in front of a clothing store window, and as I was about to pick my way over a big puddle of weirdly-colored vomit a man came stumbling out of the store towards me with his arms outstretched.

He couldn't have looked more homeless if he tried: unshaven, shabby clothes, all his teeth broken off at the roots. His speech was even garbled; I remember hearing "raaahhhrrrrrrr" as he made his way towards me.

Turns out he was trying to lean in for a kiss. And he was mentally handicapped. So I felt a little guilty for rebuffing him, and I let him take my hand and kiss it and we wished each other Happy New Year. Then he introduced himself to me as "Steven" and I told him my name. He put the palm of his hand on my cheek and said god bless you and I said god bless you and went on my way.

Fast-forward to this past Friday morning. Walnut and I are making our way to breakfast in a different part of town, and I am telling her all about my New Year's kiss from Steven, when the door of the dry-cleaning place next to the cafe we're about to walk into opens up and a plastic spoon comes flying out, and lands on the sidewalk. I look through the glass door from whence the spoon came and hey! It's Steven! I excitedly point this out to Walnut.

"Bit of a litterbug," Walnut remarked.

Indeed.

If I had balls, EMS could suck them

KW, she of the very extended French vacation, is in town, and I met her for tea and pastries today near the LNFU. She was appropriately excited about the things I showed her at the LNFU, including the super-great trash can from the 50s, the rickety staircase, the gleaming laboratory, and the mushroom display. It felt good to have someone totally geek out over the same things I do.

A couple of days ago at the LNFU I took a mandatory tour of the stacks of one of the LNFU's non-circulating libraries. I felt terrified and exhilarated because I was sharing space-and not a very big space, considering-with one hundred million dollars worth of books. Then that night before bed I read an article about the library at the Vatican and it was grand.

Anyhoo, I have been having a LOT of trouble ignoring the supreme court justice who has built a lean-to on my soul. I judge myself all day long. I can't lose myself in writing, for all the gavel-banging.

(Regarding the title: the Eastern Mountain Sports in Harvard Square has one incompetent self-aggrandizing little weasel working there; I tried to return some yoga pants today and had an unfortunate encounter with him. I shan't be shopping there again.)