Saturday, May 29, 2010

from pink Henrietta, to bluegill, to green mustard greens, and orange nasturtium

We finished our celebrations with a breakfast at Henrietta’s Table. Our family first ate breakfast here when the girls were very small. We had paused in Cambridge on our way to the Cape. It was the first time someone said of the food there – it’s fresh and honest.

That it is.

This is also the place that taught me to love lattes (even though they call them large cappuccinos). I’m less happy about that. It’s an expensive habit.


We take one final stroll through the quieter streets of central Cambridge.


I note the discarded texts at someone’s door. Law Sschool work that now belongs to the past.


A sunny day on the east coast. A calm and happy way to say good bye to the city that was home for my little girl during the years when she could properly be labeled a young adult.

My time in Boston ends as it always does – with a ride on the T, over the river, into the tunnels, up in the air, hello Detroit, goodbye Detroit, hello Madison.

It’s evening. I find the car that I left maybe a half mile outside the airport. I drive away from the city – east to Lake Mills, where Ed is having a small reunion with his friends from coop days. (Ed lived in coops during his young adult years.) At the Lake Mils town beach, I see the first signs of true summer: evening splashers. The thermometer is close to ninety. Who can blame them...


But oh, is it really summer? I am reminded of the New Yorker cartoon from last week. A guy is walking through the park humming:

While strolling through the park one day, In the merry, merry month of -- WAIT a minute! It can’t be May already! That’s ABSURD! Oh my GOD! The summer’s almost over!! I might as well be DEAD!!!

Too fast. These weeks fly for me. I remember making summer lists of projects and ideas for the kids when they were young. We’d get through maybe half. I don’t have free summers anymore, but in my mind I still should be launching great ideas now, when my load is just a tad lighter.

Our host is frying bluegills from Monona Bay. With corn and slaw and potato salad at a picnic table.


The true pleasure of summer is to take your life outdoors. During the childhood summers I spent in my grandparents' house in the Polish village, we were inside the house only when it rained. In fact, my grandmother did not allow us to be underfoot in the kitchen during the day, and our bedrooms, too, were off limits. Go outside! - she'd say if we strayed in for a minute. Go outside!

The sun sets. The day ends. The men in our group had wanted to take the boat out, but the night is perfectly still.


By morning, I am with both feet into our Madison routines. Saturday shopping at the Madison Westside Community Market, where everything is so green right now!


But even here, the red and orange of summer is beginning to take hold.



Summer came in May this year.

We ride the motorbike to the farmette, were I settle in on the sling chair to finish up the grading of the second course (one more to go!).