BREAKFAST WITH THE IN-LAWS

Callum (my husband) and I arrived at his Dad's house in Saugerties on Saturday evening. After a photo shoot with latest in puff-ball-dom, we headed out to Democratic Fundraising Shindig at Don's Barn. Well, it wasn't just a barn but a beautiful farm in fertile flatlands nestled against the shadows of the Catskill Mountains. It was dark when we finally got there but colored lights strobed out from the barn dance floor reflecting off the siloh and into the crowd of partying citizens. Tiki torches outlined walkign paths around the gardens and lotus pond. yes LOTUS. I forogt my camera. We walked right through the center of the pond on rope-tied split plank causeway that barely skimmed the surface of the duckweed covered water. Torchlight was blocked out wher the ginormous lotus leaves ambled out from the edges of the shore. Dried lotus stems stuckout here and ther and I was dissappointed I had missed their season. As we rounded a gentle curve just beyond cedar bent-wood gazebo I saw a fullon lotus still in blossom and another still hlding itself tight together. Awed I stared as long as I could manage . Callum tried to touch it but it was just out of reach. I think that made it even more romatic and mysterious. It was quite cool and damp so we finally ehaded back to the party.
I hung out with Kate for a while- it was nice to see her twice in one week! She's doing remarkable well ofr just recently undergone a double mastectomy. Inside the barn, a few wild women woere dancing and I considered joining in, but my attention was drawn to Antonia, Kate's 5 year old daighter. She and some other kids were in the hay mow swinging on the rope from one side of the loft to the other. The hay bales were old, musty and mostly broken up but still somewhat staggered to create levels of difficulty. The older kids climbed higher and swung farther but the little ones were still rippin' it up! With the strobes and a spinning mirroed ball (and glitter all over the dusty barn floor) I was easily, yet vicariously enjoying the experience of childhood play. My reverie was broken by the host making an announcement to introduce the candidates. He was funny and brief so it was painless. I was impressed with the solidarity of the group. The door prize winner was selected and to an uprorious drumroll, an old door was paraded out to the openly dissappointed recipient. The rest of us thought is was pretty fucking funny.
I went out back to the dark part of the garden and peed on their compost pile while admiring a fifteen foot tall tower of morning glories.
Simon, Callum's brother, asked me to dance and I finally gave in. There was quite crowd dancing now and the music was loud enough that I decided to let go and get into it. I screamed along with the b-52's , from love shack to rock lobster. I noticed a pair of young lovers falling from the rope into the hay. The girl was giggling, but almost embarassed that she was enjoying herself in such a childish pursuit. I've always had a confidence that I have pretty good rhthym and keep my butt shaking in time with the beat even though I'm sure I looked spasctic especically while my mouth was moving and sinign along the whole time. For a moment I became very self-conscious of my garlicky-hummus breath. I looked up and the hay area was empty. Now limbered and liberated, I ditched simon and quickly hopped up into the hay mow. A chubby but sweet kid follwed me and I asked him to show me the ropes. he didn't get the pun. instead he grabbed the thick coir rope byt the ten-inch thick knot at its base and walked-skooched backwards up the hay.
"Try it from here" he said.
"You show me first." He took a deep breath and lunged foward just missing getting his legs around the knot. It was already too late as he smashed into the more solid section of hay on the other side. I rushed toward him to see if he was okay. The mushroomy-haydust smell was overwhelming as made my way, feet falling into soft crevises with everystep. It was like being in a boucny house that didn't bounce. It was all coming back to me. I helped him up and we made our way back to the prime launch site. It was my turn. I left and got the knot positioned just right between my thighs without pinching myself. That satisfaction was short-lived as I crashed into the hay and spun wildly before dropping into the itchy pit of loose hay. The kid shouted from the top and I gave him the okay sign. The music was still loud which helped me remain in an altered state. As I made my way up with the knot in hand he held his hand out anxiously. I tried to swing the knot up to him but it's heavy and didn't get far. I ended up walking it right up to him and applauded as he made a successful swing. It was my turn once again. I visualized my path took a half step up higher behind me for maximum speed and lept on the knot. Gloriously, my arch was fast and smooth reaching high over the opposite side. It seemd almost slow motion as I swung back across the sea of hay and lighted on the bale I had lept from. What a perfect run. I let the kid take another turn and went again. not quite as sublime as my first run but ot bad. It made me remember how as kids we'd keep going for hours to keep perfecting the launch, the arch, the landing. (It's funny to think that our bedroom in the barn is the very same space where we used to swing.) I should have left it at that but of course I had to go again, after calling Simon and Callum up to share in the joy. I was tired and losing focus. I was also trying to show-off now. I went up higher and as the kid was saying "Whenyou go from there it kinda makes you go left too much" I didn't hear the end of what he was saying but I sure as ehlll felt it. I smashed into the hay but hed on and swung right around and agaisnt the wooden slats on the wall. It was the kind of hurt that you can make feel better by rubbing for a bit and then eat a piece of cheesecake.

Back at my father-in-law's we did a wine tasting for the bebefit dinenr their hosting on Thursday (I'm the chef) Then we retired (w/biscotti) to the living room for a wild game of Scrabble. Not. Though I must say Callum and I actaully came up with more than four letter words!








THE NEXT MORNING
I awoke a bit stiff and sore. Then I felt the actual bruise spot on my inner thighs where the rope knot had pressed. If I ever got those as kid I don't recall. I didn't mind though becasue it helped me remeber the experience of the evening. It was magical and I'm so glad I didn't let that opportunity pass. Perhaps it has something to do with the previous night's conversation. An inlaw had just been teaching a course (Wholistic Orgainzing for the Home or something) at Omega Institute for Holistic Studies (up here in Rhinebeck) I asked what other course were in session while she was there. She mentioned something about 'Play" and I had a feeling it was an expensive workshop for adults who have lost their groove, lost touch with their inner child etc. and need permission to act like kid. I digress.
I'm going to add photos of my wonderful waking up in Baryy & Judith's wonderful house and the magical breakfast they put on.

The air was so crisp I didn't wat to get out of bed. I just lay there studying the swiftly passing clouds thorugh the skylight.
















Callum sauteed shards of the puff ball and mixed them with sausage and herbs to accompany the eggs.















I especially enjoyed the special dark Jamacian marmelade. I wish I had time to write about the two previous nights. Each tale woud be as long and have as many photos: The night before in the city- dinner w/ family at Pearl's. The night before that a gilrs night out at Shangrila for Beth's Birthday. Ultra weird but totally fun. Long drive back along Route 28 towards to full moon.
The morning ebfore a hundred garden shots of bees in my flowers... , the night before that at the Clarkes, for dinner witha monkey girl in the trees...
(Sorry I have NOT re-read or spell checked. just too much for now.)
over & out.