Rolling: "Salinger"

Fascinating film.

Elly and I loved this close look at the life of J.D. Salinger, from the dark World War II experiences that shaped him to his fascination with much younger women, including a 14-year-old he met in Florida when he was 30.

Good:

• Interview with the woman who was that 14-year-old. A lot of footage.
• Insights from Salinger's daughter, Margaret/Peggy, in clips from "Today."
• The look at how he took his work so seriously, donning a canvas jumpsuit [creepy/war-camp like] and stayed in the cabin on the property for days at a time. The babysitter [also featured] says his wife wasn't allowed to bother him for very long periods of time.  
• Long chats with Joyce Maynard, the college student/writer who moved in with him after he and his wife divorced. 
• Perspective from a whole stable of authors, including Gore Vidal and Tom Wolfe.
• View of Cornish, NH, where the author lived in seclusion--and of the covered bridge there.

TCOY

1. I did spend almost two hours organizing my closet and hanging everything up. I put all my Tory Burch sweaters together, all my Lilly Pulitzer pinks. Feels good. Truth be told, I should never need to buy another article of clothing or accessory again, except shoes, because I wear those down. If only styles/colors/hems didn't change so often.
2. Talked to my friend Celia.
3. Elly treated me to a glass of white wine, farm cheese and crisp bread at one of the tables in front of Amanti Vino on Church Street. A young man sat on a bench playing guitar; he was good. Especially at "Welcome Back," the theme song from "Welcome Back, Kotter." Took me back to the 1970s, when I'd watch that show with Dad in the little room. [That's what we called our TV room--the little room.]
4. Walked Sug around block under starlit sky.

Hope Floats

This plant grew from some tiny seeds I scattered on the soil from a Butterfly Garden packet--an afterthought, because the rest were carefully sown in big pots. I don't know what it's called, but that baby speck of goodness took hold and the tall, strong plant is reaching for the sun and making many hopeful orange flowers even now, on September 28.

Rough week. One smooth stone among the jagged cliffs: Punch's paternal grandma, Hope, came yesterday as planned and took Punch for the weekend. Hope is a school principal, pretty, stylish, slim, friendly, upbeat, and a bit younger than me; she had Punch's Dad at a young age. He is no longer living. Hope lives with her husband 2 1/2 hours from us, in South Jersey.

Deep breath. In, out, in, out. Sat on grassy island on our block in yoga position, and breathed. Brushed and flossed teeth, brushed hair. Shopped at sidewalk sale and scored two fashion finds. Had breakfast burrito. Went to support group. Am about to start hanging tons of my clean clothes that have been piled in our bedroom since Punch abruptly moved in August 17. Haven't been able to keep up. Wash clothes, don't hang them. Wear them, throw into pile. Haven't been able to find my favorite pair of earrings [silver with turquoise] for over a month. Will also nap, read [our book group is meeting re. The Great Gatsby tomorrow evening] and maybe even write some thank you notes. Tonight, H. working at a party and I'm going to see the "Salinger" documentary with my friend Elly.

I have so many things to be thankful for. And I'm thankful for being able to see that clearly even in a forest of teetering trees. I'm grateful for the gift of perspective.

Enjoy your day.

Heavy Eyelids

Good night.

TCOY

1. Boot camp in the park. Then nice talk with my friend, boot camp powerhouse/pretty blonde/wise Heidi.
2. Walked Sug around block.
3. Short nap.
4. Spoke to professionals for insights."There's no one answer," one said. I liked that.
5. Talked to Moey.
6. Went for first time to Ah' Pizz on North Willow Street with the Mernin family tonight. Great combo--wonderful Mernins and delicious pizza with fontina, mushrooms, truffle oil and lots of plump, smoky roasted garlic cloves. Baked in a wood-fired stone oven.
7. Good tooth care.

Soft Landing

There's strength in a bubble bath, even though it looks kind of Gatsby frivolous, like a flute of Champagne...I swear there is. And I think I may have found some. Good night.

TCOY

1. Walked Puff around the block. We've both missed our walks. Felt good.
2. Read.
3. Took Punch down to the brook at the bottom of our street. We tried to skip stones but neither of us could. She started to build a dam and I helped a little, carrying heavy rocks. I liked seeing the water, the rocks, the treees, even the uprooted one. Nature is healing.
4. At bedtime, while she was flipping through a Hello Kitty book before we settled in to read, I read a lot of Thumbelina--and found comfort there. Some day I'll share the lines.
5. Said bubble bath.
6. Olay face wash + excellent tooth care.
7. Talked to Sis. And wise therapist [well, two of them].

Still Nothing to Say

It would be tinged with anger and sorrow. Good night.

Too Many Tears

Good night.

TCOY

1. Good A.M. tooth care, in spite of the fear/hell/drama swirling around me.
2. Listened to Judy Collins sing "Amazing Grace" on CD. Loved it.
3. Worked hard. Listened to Cape Cod CD on laptop while working [played it low].
4. Private Benjamin appt.--my own private Private Benjamin. My therapist is very wise and helpfu. I couldn't have kept my appt. without my friend who watched Punch for 1 1/4  hours counting drive time, so I'm grateful.
5. Ice water. About to have more.
6. Reached out for help, got advice, scheduled family appointment for tomorrow in NYC. Again calling in a friend to meet Punch at bus stop and watch her for two hours.....I am so lucky. And Punch is so lucky.
7. Going to bed.

A Mother's Love

Dear Figgy,

I love you with all my heart. You're 18, and I still wish I could protect you and solve your problems. Make sure your sky-blue fleece vest, the one that matches your eyes, is clean in first grade. Rinse out your lunchbox with soap and water every night so it won't smell sour. Get you to the dentist, the doctor, the orthodontist.

But I can't fix everything now, and it's foolish to think I could even then. I couldn't protect you when your best friend switched allegiances--no more than my mother could protect me when mine did the same back at Saint Mary's. Our mothers aren't sitting with us in the cafeteria, in gym, at recess.

And even if I could fix every problem now, that wouldn't help you. You would never grow up, like some odd female version of Peter Pan in a green felt hat. [You had one of those, BTW, when you were small. Remember? I think it was from Kevin.]. And I, I would be some weird puppet master. That's not what I want for either one of us.

You told Dad last week that you don't want to grow up...that you'd like to be like Punch, getting baths and being read to......and when you were younger, you really believed in Belinda, the garden fairy who left you notes handwritten in tiny script. You found them when you woke. You loved her so.

But now it's time to grow up...to be strong....to muddle through...once again. And don't you see that the beauty of Belinda lives in you....the dancing, loving merriment.....the light spirit...the flower wreath you've worn.....the purple garden dahlias in your hair.....

I can't always get the words out, and often, you don't give me the chance. But if I could speak them, and if you could hear them, I would tell you that I will always love you, no matter what. I'm crying as I write this. My eyes and nose are dripping. Pause: Let me run to get a paper towel.

You are my Figgy, my golden Figgy. I hope and pray that you find your way safely on life's road. It isn't always smoothly paved, but to tell you the truth,and I know this sounds preachy, the ditches and detours, the potholes and rough patches often help shape us into stronger, smarter, more compassionate people.

I hope and pray, hope and pray.

I love you.

Love always, Mama

One Day at the Farm

We drove about an hour to Milford, NJ in Hunterdon County to Bobolink Dairy & Bakehouse*, owned by H.'s high school friend Jonathan and his wife, Nina. We were invited to the cow farm for a pig roast in honor of Jonathan's 57th birthday. Even though we're reading Charlotte's Web a chapter per night with Punch, I have to tell  you that the slow-roasted pork was delicious. I thought of my grandmother, Rosie, who grew up poor on a farm near Genoa. And of Dad, who always loved to hear about Jonathan and Nina. 

But now I want to catch some sleep. A cat nap in the car doesn't compare to a deep Sunday afternoon snooze. It just scratches the surface.  

By the time we left, stars dotted the night sky and Punch and H. each made a wish on the first one they saw. Good night.  Some pictures:

Gateway to heaven--and hard work.

The old farmhouse.

I love the vintage tablecloths.

Punch got to feed the chickens, and Jonathan gave her some eggs.
She also helped Nina make peach-topped dessert bread  in the bakehouse after dinner.

TCOY

1. Went to Mass...late, but still....
2. Breathed in that farm air...that sunshine.

*at Union Square NYC Greenmarket Fridays-- 8-6 per summer schedule. Check website.