Sunday

15 October 2017

— Fifty or so final windfalls in the grass under the apple branches.

Good Morning All,

Have I mentioned Britta’s apple won the competition? Johs and Holly’s must have fallen pretty much together; they were both there in the morning (this was around a week ago), and the next time I looked after lunch they were down.

Around 7:00 last night, I was sitting here second-guessing myself on my decision not to fly across the Great Waters this month to see the New England foliage and to show my friend Trudy my New England. I had decided to do so next year after our Peace Corps fiftieth anniversary out in Mt. Shasta, California, if it is still there. Waiting a year, of course, makes good sense, but I was still wishing I could be there, both out at the summer cottage and up Holly’s in New Hampshire.

So, while I’m sitting here feeling sorry for myself, my Skype starts bonging away. I answer it, get my Apple ear buds in, and their’s Holly sitting in the shotgun seat of her Subaru, Johs next to her at the wheel. 

Grinning, Holly says, “Guess where we are, Far!”

“You’re in a car,” I answer, but resist adding, “you damn fool.” Instead, I add, “Somewhere in New Hampshire.”

“Half right,” she says. “Massachusetts. Guess where!” She points her phone out the window.

For a minute, it is all blurred, but then … wait a second! … I know that building! I know that sign! This bend in the road! And I realize we are driving along the Brimfield road, coming up the hill past Ed’s Market, past the post office, now the town hall, and there is the lake on the left.

“I see the lake!” I shout. This is one of the oldest rituals in our family, going back to when David, Norman, and I were still little kids, and our dad would play the I-see-the-lake-first game.

“Rats!” Johs says from the driver’s seat. “Far beat us to it again.” 

When they both laugh, I realize they had decided to let me win.

Now we are right opposite Karen’s cottage, not far from our turn off, and I say, “Johs, put your blinker on.”

They both laugh again, and Johs, says, “Jeeze, backseat driving from 3,000 miles away.”

Now Holly is aiming her phone forward so I can enjoy the short stretch on the dirt road and the cottage coming into view. And then—Lord love a duck!—we come around the last bend and here we are! There’s Jo Ann’s red Honda, and there are Jo Ann and Norman, and Norman holding up Tasmania, Don and Darleen’s cat, to say hi.

Wow!

Go Well and Stay Well,

Bhekaron

P.S. I now have 8 responses for my gun-control survey. Come on, just two more!

P.P.S. Two Holly autumn snaps.