from Cambridge: 'spires

Inspire, aspire, perspire, I’ve seen it all on this day.

Without truck, I am left to run errands on foot. Screw wont go in. Get drill bit from hardware store. Not big enough. Return for another. Sweat as I work brackets into the hardwood frames. All the while, hanging on a hot cellphone which is suffering from overuse. Ikea, you are not user friendly.

But, as the apartment of the young little thing (aka daughter) takes shape, I can see her there, through the Boston seasons. Third one in our family of four to get a law degree (all the more remarkable since, before myself attending law school, I don’t think I had ever even met a lawyer; it wasn't a profession manyof us contemplated back in the Poland of the sixties and seventies).

Her apartment is just at the edge of campus, but in a neighborhood that I like. Her blocks have an elementary school, a corner park, a community garden.

Still, you can’t hide from Harvard, not this close to campus. The café up toward Porter Square is so lovely, but, before the semester even starts, it looks dangerously like a classroom, all “desks” facing forward, all “students” focused more on what their reading than on each other, the food, or the prettiness of the day outside.




A few more days of Cambridge. Of building and setting up and even maybe of reading texts together – she hers, me mine. The summer slips into fall without anyone even noticing.