Focus and Refocus

On Saturdays, I always look forward to the Morning Newsletter sent out by The New York Times, because the essay at the top is usually by Melissa Kirsch. Her writing style is warm and friendly, and her observations resonate with me. 

For example, last Saturday, she wrote that July 2 is the day at the exact middle of the year and wondered if perhaps it would be a better time, given the light and pace of summer, to make the resolutions traditional to January 1. At any rate, she suggested that it would be a good time to review and revise any goals set for the year, which makes sense. 

My birthday happens to fall around this time, too, and on that day, I often find myself reflecting on the year past and pending, both calendar and personal. Listing the joys in my life is an excellent lens for that exercise.

To You and You and You and You

A friend and former colleague has told people for decades that when we first started working together, she used to say hello to me and I ignored her. “I just thought she was stuck up!” she always ends. I dispute that memory: I’m shy, not stuck up, and so I probably never greeted her first, but I know if she had said something to me I would have responded. 

Even so, I realized years ago that the way to avoid any such perception of aloofness was to proactively greet folks, which I do regularly, especially early in the day. I love to say “Good morning” to anyone I see before noon. It was my habit to stand outside my classroom door and greet as many kids by name as I could, but also to smile and say good morning to all who passed.

But the satisfying specificity of that particular greeting doesn’t carry over to the afternoon or evening. Hey there and hello are fine when you know someone, but a little weird if you’re greeting strangers. Ciao works if you’re in Europe, but not so much walking the streets of Arlington, Va, and good afternoon and good evening are not very colloquial, either. 

In those situations I usually resort to a nod and a smile, and that seems to work. I wish I had a little more, though, because I really am friendly, despite what anyone says.

Ask the Dogs

“How did it go?” I asked Heidi this afternoon after the wedding rehearsal. 

“Shit show,” she scoffed. “They changed what I was supposed to do about 5 times.”

“I guess that’s why they have rehearsals,” I said.

“For sure,” she agreed. “But it’s pretty organized now, and the groom kept thanking me for being there. He said they felt much better about things.” 

Heidi loves dogs and all the dogs seem to know it right away and return the affection. This weekend, for the second time in a couple of years, she has been asked to be the dog wrangler at a friend’s wedding. Adrian and Andy wanted Leo to be part of the ceremony, but they were worried he wouldn’t listen to the wedding planner and on one of their recent walks, Adrian asked Heidi if she would be willing to help. “You know him,” she pointed out, “and you have such calm energy.”

Heidi laughed when she recounted the story to me later. “I don’t think anyone has ever accused me of having calm energy before,” she said.

“That’s just because dogs can’t talk,” I answered. “I’m pretty sure all the canines would agree with Adrian.”

A Solid C

I love movies and I love a countdown, so when I saw the NY Times feature naming the 100 best films of the century so far, I was all in.

According to the Times, the list was compiled by "polling more than 500 filmmakers, stars and influential film fans to vote for the 10 best movies (however they chose to define that) released since Jan. 1, 2000."

The pictures were revealed 20 a day starting Monday, and readers could view a synopsis and a rationale for recognizing each one. We could also check a box if we had seen the movie or another box if we wanted to see it. At the end of each day, two poster graphics were created, one for the films we'd seen and another for those on our wishlist. 

It was a fun way to wile away ten minutes or so each morning, and today I got to see my final tally. Of the hundred? I've seen 60, and I have some solid suggestions for another 15 evenings when it seems like there's not much to watch. 

Be Our Guest

I had just finished cleaning off the deck when a shadow crossed the sun. It was a curious crow, and it cocked its head when it landed on a branch of the birch tree that shades the balcony. 

Lucy was inside, and she saw it, too, so I slid the door open and let her out. She trotted to the corner and stood with front paws on the deck box, watching the big bird. The crow was not intimidated, though, and the two stood eye to eye for a few minutes. 

"Let's feed it!" Heidi suggested, and I reminded her where the birdseed was. "It looks thirsty," she added, and I fetched some water and a couple of shallow containers from the house. She filled them and placed them on the railing.

We brought Lucy inside, and the three of us watched as the crow ate and drank. Despite my worry that it might make a mess of the recently cleaned deck, it was a perfect guest, enjoying the refreshments neatly, with one eye on us as we observed. A little while later, it bowed politely and flew away.

911

Our community garden is located just a couple of houses from the fire station. Over the years, countless quiet mornings or afternoons there have been interrupted by the screaming of sirens responding to one emergency or another. The noise is loud enough that if Lucy happens to be there, I cover her ears because I know they are more sensitive than mine, and mine are hurting.

As unfailingly jarring as it is, it is of course impossible to be annoyed, knowing the essential duties the firetrucks, ambulances, and their occupants are engaged in. I do flinch, though, every time. 

And then I take a deep breath and send out positive energy to anybody who needs such help and gratitude to those who willingly offer it.

That Day

For me, it's always been impossible to understand what makes a moment, or an experience, or a day indelible. For example, it's no secret to those who know me that I love visiting Maine in the summer, and many of my happiest adult memories have taken place there. My family has been kind enough to travel there for my 40th, 50th, and 60th birthdays, and I treasure those weeks spent in my favorite place with the people I love. If it were up to me, we'd all go there every summer. 🤞🏻

There was a day, though, that for some reason stands out even among those amazing memories. Heidi and I and our first dog, Isabel, had driven up for just a few days at the end of the summer to stay with my friend Ruth. The year was 2005; Isabel was 2, Heidi was teaching swim lessons and lifeguarding, we spent many afternoons visiting my Aunt Sis in the hospital, and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince had just come out.

On our way home, we decided to stop in Stonington and take the mail boat to Isle au Haut and then spend the night in a harborside hotel before getting on the road the next day. We left Ruth's at the crack of dawn to make our boat, and the morning was still a little chilly when we boarded. Isabel had never been on a boat that size before, but of course Heidi was able to lure her aboard. The voyage was about an hour, and when we were dropped off at the ranger's station, we understood that we would be on the island for the next six hours, until the boat returned. 

Conditions were primitive: there was an outhouse and an information kiosk, but the town, such as it was, was two miles down a narrow road, but we had packed food and water, and we were ready for the experience. We let Isabel off leash, and she dashed out of sight immediately. Fortunately, we found just down the path, standing in the water of a little inlet.

The next hours were just the three of us exploring the trails and cliffs and cobble beaches of the island. We ate lunch on a boulder looking out to sea, and I fashioned a dog toy from nylon rope and the remnants of a lobster trapfor Isabel to fetch. Near the end of the afternoon, we found an overlook above the sea, and there was something about that rocky outcropping that reminded me for all the world of the place where Dumbledore takes Harry to retrieve Slytherin's locket.

Almost too soon, it was time to return to the mainland, but once checked into our little efficiency we realized we were famished. A place around the corner delivered us a couple of fried seafood platters, and we ate clams, fish, and shrimp in front of the TV as we watched The Closer. 

It was one of the best days of my life.