culture diary, day 7

My last evening in Brooklyn. D will pick me up tomorrow, drop me in the water - that is, the pool, we'll do a bit of provisions shopping at Sahadi's and Trader Joe, and hightail it back to good old Columbia County. After a matinée of Girl Who Played With Fire, which I liked but didn't love (less riveting than Girl with the Dragon Tattoo) and throughout which I savored scenic glimpses of Stockholm and the beautiful Swedish countryside, I bought a bunch of thank-you flowers that might well be from CC (regional countryside anyway) - zinnia, sunflower, globe amaranth, yarrow, and flowers that I'm guessing to be echinops and phlox. Classic six country bouquet. I peeled off the cellophane, struggled with the tightly bound rubber band, and now the stems are fanned out in a glass vase atop my friends' lovely marble fireplace mantle, reflecting in a mirror that I remember J saying he found by the trash on one of his neighborhood rambles. It's really nice, oval with a wreathed offwhite-painted frame, shabby chic but not overly so. Some people have the knack of finding treasures on the street, tag sales, second hand stores and the like. I don't particularly, though some years ago we brought our taxes to a preparer in Park Slope, who charged $200, a mighty sum, and afterward when we headed up a leafy brownstoned side street we spied a wonderful pharmacy floor lamp that someone had put to the curb. I'd seen such lamps at Pottery Barn. We're not eagle-eyed scavengers but this had obvious value so D picked it up and we brought it home. There was a minor wiring issue which D handily fixed and we surmised that that's why it had been discarded. I'm fond of the lamp, which stands by an armchair in the living room. It's made of dark metal and the shade reminds me of a World War I helmet. It's very expressive. We refer to it as R2D2.

At the time I looked up the lamp in a PB catalog - $200 - the cost of the tax preparer. Who didn't even do our taxes right. That summer the IRS contacted us and said that we hadn't availed ourselves of something or other and that we had overpaid and here was a nice refund.

***
I love the little nearly-square framed view of the sky from this tiny study. Now it's blue sky and animated white clouds. I keep seeing amorous couples kissing though not just now. No discernible shape really. Puffy white Australia with New Zealand or Borneo in tow maybe.

Missed Stella the Artist this morning. For some reason I couldn't get the livestream to work. It seemed to kick off after the 3 am KZE rules-of-the-game review, and I couldn't get it going again until a song or two after Stella. I'm sorry I missed it. I've played the Letterman version a couple of times, but it's not the same. I love it when Stella unexpectedly comes at me, which doesn't happen every day.

Livestreaming my thoughts to you... Another perfect day, they keep piling up, someone sings now. Cat Stevens, I'm guessing. Let me check. Not even close. Monsters of Folk.

***
Went for a swim at midday even though I didn't have sunscreen. Had a contretemps with a parks worker who made a federal case over the fact that I didn't have a lock. I said I'm here from out of town for a few days, I didn't think to pack one, and the woman at the door (who gave me a hard time yesterday but waved me through with a friendly smile today) said it's okay. There were a good half-dozen blue-tee-shirted parks staffers in the women's locker room. We can't be responsible, this one said maniacally. If someone wants my f**king dirty clothes they can have them, I said. (Yes, the f-bomb dropped. I'm totally amazed I got away with it - she could have booted me right there. But lucky me - I think that was part of her regular vernacular so I don't think she noticed (phew). Talk about a Girl Who Plays With Fire.) Or wait, I offered, maybe I could just keep my things on the pool deck while I swim. She looked appalled. Oh no, not the pool deck. F***ing insanity.

But it was instantly all okay and worth it once I hit the water. I ended up sharing a lane with a friendly European woman, and we compared notes on how amazing & delightful the pool is - that is, if you can get past the gauntlet. I told her how I don't have a lock. Oh you can get one at the 99 cent store, she said. I didn't think of that, seemed like a pricier item to me. Plus offhand, not sure where a dollar store is around here.

Enough about me - how is everything with you? I check your weather (or the nearest to you as I can figure): 55 and clear. Day length will be 21 hours and 51 minutes. Use the two hours and nine minutes of darkness wisely, darling.

This being culture diary and all, I should mention that I saw Solitary Man a couple of days ago, too. Another movie I liked but didn't love. Good Michael Douglas though, playing a roué who isn't as solitary as he ought to be, creating such messes that he ends up more solitary than he wishes to be. I'm sure that was the (thinly disguised) diner that's on the corner of Fordham Street and City Island Avenue. And I love Susan Sarandon but she had on way too much makeup, a mask. Surely she (or the character she played) doesn't need it. That image is definitely not how I wish to age.

Girl Who Plays With Fire and Solitary Man. Good match. Love and kisses, darling.