Busy with spring

The trip to Bangladesh and back is already a faint memory – such is the blessing of forgetting unpleasantness. I arrived back in springy New England; amazing what changes occurred in just a week.

Axel had a full social agenda planned for me – a dinner with friends at the local country club to spent their end-of-year restaurant balance (use it or lose it). We were in the company of –as my mother used to call them – ‘the happy few;’ many also there with friends to do the same. It was like a sociology field trip and me the participant observer. I watched well-permed grandmas with their adult children and their young boys in blue blazers and pressed chino pants, the girls in pretty dresses.

Because of the many other grandmas eating there regularly, I suspect, the menu contained for most entrees the choice of a whole or half portion. I like that and did order a half so I would have room for a dessert. I started with a martini, my first serious alcoholic drink since our Ayurvedic cleansing. I drank it ever so slowly.

On Friday I was back on my physical therapy schedule (ankle) and resolved to get rid of bad shoes and invest in some sturdy footwear. So far the miraculous effect of this investment has not materialized and a long walk with Tessa, Axel and dogs left me crippled.

Saturday proved too windy for flying with Bill, at least for me, and so he went alone. It was not too windy for yard work. Axel planted the potatoes and I pulled out the perennials that gone wild. The asparagus are poking through the soil in increasing numbers and the garlic is looking good.

Last night we went to Waring for the annual junior class auction that is to generate enough funds to send the whole 11th grade class to France for a month. This is probably the most significant of Waring’s coming-of-age rituals where kids test their ability to speak French in France, sketch monuments and vistas and drink too much wine. The dinner theme was ‘Diner en Blanc’ which made for a festive white and gauzy appearance. Axel wore his Afghan outfit, the same he wore for Sita and Jim’s wedding – I wore what can best be called a ‘mother-of-the-bride’ ensemble which made me realize I have become my mother. Eventually we all do.

Today looks like another gardening day.

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