beulahbondo's Diaryland Diary
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Shall we gather?
Visited my friend Sandy this weekend up at her just-acquired wilderness hangout, way up in northern Vermont. Sandy is the most practical person I know. She bought a house in Somerville years before it was a desirable address, and for three years she's been looking at property in Vermont. She finally found what she wanted, and because she owns this now very valuable house in Somerville, was able to raise the money to pay for it in cash. Eighty acres and three cabins. A completely odorless Swedish compost toilet. Solar power. Apple trees.
If I owned a place like that it would probably fall apart within a month, but Sandy knows how to fix things. She even fixed my car antenna, which was falling off, by splinting it with a bent nail and two hook eyes. I added a twee little twig.
Sandy is also the most generous person I know and actually loves crowds. This is no hermit camp. She hopes to create a "gay, pagan, BDSM, and otherwise non-christian art/music scene" (though she is personally none of the above except for non-christian) but comfy-style, with floral futons and good red wine. I can build a weaving studio there if I want.
In my dream last night, my dad said to me, "Nomar's hitting pretty good these days." And I said, "Dad, he's totally in a slump." And Dad said, "What, .200 isn't that bad." Wacky. Actually he's hitting .318, in true life.
Reading "The Public Image," by Muriel Spark. It's about an English movie actress living in Italy and her "deep core of stupidity." You don't want to cross that Muriel Spark.
8:56 p.m. - 2003-09-15
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