Re-nesting (and rediscovering)

This past week has been a process of re-nesting (one of my neologisms, if you’ll have it), with a bit of rediscovering thrown in for good keeping.  We “moved” on the 1st of July, which consisted of my other’s 2 strongest ‘men’ lending all hands to loading up a U-haul (select items left at Bonnet, until the next move – 5 months? – to Boston-ish; I’ll not start singing that tune quite yet), and unloading it again 35 minutes north on the borderline of Pawtucket and Providence.


Move 10 I believe in my lifetime migration.  All of this trucking included an upright piano, a Gulbransen- ‘Ruby’ – I salvaged for free through


In fact, I had her tuned just today by a very tall, fair-haired, soft-spoken fellow with a 30-year old electronic tuning contraption; an interesting character amongst what I’m sure is a whole circus of them in a crowded city.  She’s  (Ruby) playing at a lower pitch these days, but to have her sing an octave higher would have cost to the tune of two tunings – so I said, “let her sing alto” for a bit longer, until I secure that magical teaching job that I am just positive will be coming my way.  Anyhoo, in a converted 1920’s house (the owner wasn’t quite sure of the date built or its original abode status – but I think it must be so, plus I saw the outlines of an extracted or long-ago crumbled chimney out back today), we re-nest in Apartment 1 (of 6).


We have the view of the shared side-yard – with an old shadowing tree, that half reminds me of the one in Poltergeist…and seeing granddaddy trees that reek of nostalgic-scary-movie undertones makes me happy.  I transported my herb garden and set it in a corner of the overgrown lot, up against the back of the next door house-turned-apartments.

I went out to trim a few sprigs of tarragon and chives for a batch of corn muffins I made this eve (simple and scrumptious).  A man from a neighboring building that overlooks the “garden” opened his window and proceeded to strike up a brief convo; he thought I should ask the owner to mow the grass and those white flowers that grow wild on lawns in the summer (I used to make crowns of them as a child, but now can’t remember their fleeting name), because they would overtake my plants – and he thought it looked like I was a good caretaker; I politely laughed, and said I thought they could hold their own.  I like to harbor the thought that perhaps my little mark of edible greenery brings a bit of fresh viewing to eyes in high places – the least I can do.

I brought Maya (she misses the screen door that so easily swung and led out to the great wide world in Bonnet), and she almost made a getaway, scooting behind every hedge and down the back steps to my other’s car, before I grabbed her and practically pierced myself with my cutting scissors in the process.  But I’ll continue to bring her on my jaunts to water and prune; she needs the fresh air – can’t keep a formerly feral cat too sheltered, not good for the feline soul.  I did ‘spoil’ her with a couple of new toys – feathers and a blue mouse slipper with cat nip.  I don’t usually go the toy route, but I also hadn’t been to Petco in years – Toys R’ Us for beloved pets and a direct challenge to any unsuspecting pet owner, who generally relies on their animal to keep entertained through instinctive animal imagination and elongated afternoon loungings.  She has a rhythm to her playing – she is a tigress first, and then a nurturing mother bear.  She bites and claws, then licks, then bites, then licks.  Love her ways.


So, a few select shots from the inside out…


Kitschy-sweet?  You betcha.  I had quite the time airing out all of my spices in the built-in spice rack seen above, to the right of the stove.  Is much more conducive to adding dashes of this and that.


I include the bathroom because I am a sucker for vintage black and white bathrooms, and this is a legitimate version…


And my corner of the world., with my bits of inspiration and longing…



20130708_100915This painting by Degas (I had to look that one up) intrigues me.  I am suddenly feeling the urge to write a short story about the shadowy man in the curtains, looking out onto this shining prima ballerina…perhaps I shall post is here as motivation to follow through?  I continue to write, and have oh so many starts and experiments, but nothing that I feel is close to ripe fruition.  Creating certainly requires a giant leap of faith in one’s ideas; the act consumes time and pieces of one’s self, and so I still struggle a bit in the arena of picking and choosing…


“Every day will hold so many new things to discover”.

And speaking of (re)discovering…in the transition of migration, I almost cut my foot on a truly wonderous find.  For reasons that will be revealed on Saturday the 13th (see the alluded to event at the bottom of my blog), I secretly wished to find a charming tea set for just such an occasion.  I often make wishes and am half-conscious in doing so; then, when some serendipitous unearthing happens, I am aware and amazed.  I was in the basement, packing and rearranging – there are still a lot of old things down there, mostly wonderful ordinary things that most would overlook – like 50+ year old rose fertilizer and outdated jars of mayo (empty, of course); pairs of men’s shoes; creaky flour containers; and other bits of this and that.  I was standing by a table that I’ve stood by hundreds of times before; I bent down to the ground and happened to see pieces of colorful shattered porcelain…

Twas a small plate with an ornate oriental design.  I looked up to see where it might have fallen from, and discovered this old box…


And inside, wee cups…


and saucers, even a matching pepper shaker…

20130705_164701 20130705_164608

pure rediscovery, at its finest.

Amazed, am I.  Perhaps my great-grandmother wanted me to find this set?  It would not be the first time I was convinced that she had a hand in happenings at Bonnet…


Those beach rugosas are engraved in my heart’s mem(ory) until the day I no longer roam this Earth.

I rinsed and carefully laid out the pieces to dry, then inspected the yellowed newspaper in which the set had been wrapped up…


The year – 1940.  This set must have been my grandmother’s, when she was a little girl.

I was tickled shades of sepia by the content…



“War’s Alarms Bring Keen Sense of Awaiting Duties”; “Alumane Reading Group Will Meet”; “Attleboro D.A.R. Gives Tea Friday”- Daughters of the American Revolution, a society I had no idea existed (to this day)…

20130705_164526“Why Not Greet ’41 at the Copley-Plaza, Boston” – Why not, I say?  Traveling back in time and very much celebrating life in the present.  A true notion of what I believe to be a more free-flowing, backwards and forward universe than is usually made evident to us by our ‘entrapment’ in the space-and-time paradigm of reality as we know it…

Not nearly perfect, not even close, but still a most lovely world, at its best, making its mysterious rounds and reaching its tendrils into the most unexpected places to communicate unspoken messages…

Amidst the pursuit of livelihood, in the bombardment of increasingly serious, global happenings that pour in via the media channels daily and affect (or not) the senses, such is the philosophy I love to live by.


Get into the spirit of the times and live in this moment, which weaves bits of yesterday and tomorrow into its seamless picture of the present.  Let’s meet on Saturday for some mad tea, shall we?

Love and Learn,



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