Dreams last night. I go into the master bedroom. It's my birthday and there are a few presents for me on the dresser, including a couple of large envelopes marked with my name. I carry the packages into the other room. My niece, a little girl, curiosity piqued, follows me, hoping there's something in it for her. I get annoyed because that's the only reason she's interested. I tell her to get lost. She bursts into tears and I feel bad. I crouch down, put my arms around her and tell her I'm sorry, that I was having a bad day, something I'm sure she can understand. She nods yes, and I hold her tight.
I run into Christopher Benfey and tell him that I'd like to attend the talk in Amherst. I'm a little self-conscious - I don't want him to think that I'm going only for the wrong reason - to witness a smackdown. What do you think of the piece on the board, I ask. He smiles at me over his shoulder, friendly flicker of raised brow, suppressed eyeroll. I know, me neither, I reply. If I'd turned in an essay like that you'd have given me a C minus!
The cats are pouncing over the unmowed lawn, capturing and killing gray mice, I'm horrified at the tiny corpses strewn all over the driveway...
***
So I'm back to dreaming. It's been a while. For the last couple of years I've faithfully recorded the ones I remember when I wake (yes, I am the kind of person who writes down her dreams!) - but it's been a couple of weeks.
Ruth has an iPhone and goes out for bagels in the morning, but surely not before dawn, not at 4:08. Besides, she's upstate isn't she - not in the Bronx Friday evening (well maybe - on her way up), but surely not in Brooklyn at the very moment yesterday afternoon that I sat down at the computer after getting back to the apartment? (No - she was giving a luncheon talk in Hudson.) More to the point, I don't think Ruth would be that into my blog. Plus I keep thinking it's a guy (unlike Houston who I think is a woman, unless it's a Bush). Of course, iPhones are popular. It could be two or three different users. Except that I don't have so many readers, I keep thinking the iPhone is just one guy - this weekend Man About Town. Not Ruth - and please no, not R. Bourdain. Tony I'll accept though - Tony, is that you?
I have had such a hankering for a lobster roll, ever since walking over the Brooklyn Bridge yesterday in sparkling weather that just made me wish to go to the sea. I contemplated taking a daytrip today to Noank, Connecticut, to Abbott's Lobster in the Rough, a shack with tables overlooking the ocean - beautiful - but so far away. Why go there when we're in a weekend in New York? Then I thought about driving out to the other Greenport, on the North Fork of Long Island, a walk along the beach at Orient, lobster roll in town. Back at the apartment I googled brooklyn lobster roll - there's a place right in Red Hook (the other Red Hook) where you can get one either "Connecticut-style," warm and on a buttered bun, or Maine style, in a cold mayonnaise. One of each I think, and we'll share.
XOXO
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