Sunday, July 06, 2008
The Summer of Cahoots
Someone I love hoped I was having a chill Fourth of July Weekend.
Well, here's how it's been going.
On Friday I made brunch for Petra, Larry-O and BFF. It was lovely, though it did entail getting to the grocery store by 7:30 in the morning. I attempted to replicate a salad from a cool little West Village cafe I discovered the last time I was in the Big Apple, and I pulled it off, if I do say so myself.
Then, I tried to start my sermon. I got precisely one paragraph written. It was not a bad paragraph. It remains in the final draft. But I'd hoped for more.
At 6 PM Petra and I began singing for our nearly-monthly gig at a local Art Walk. This is something we've been doing for nearly a year, and it's been wonderful. Except... lately, she's also singing with her pal, J., and I think the patina has begun to wear on the excitement of getting to sing with mom. I notice that when she and J. are singing (at this same event) they announce it with a Faceb@@k event, and scores of teenagers show up to cheer and stamp for Petra and J., and to listen politely to me.
The Ex-Mr. Mags showed up on this occasion, (without his GF), and singing songs like "Hallelujah" and "If You Go Away" (two of my signature pieces) felt somewhat odd. But Petra and I sing well together, it's getting tighter every time. I just think her interest is elsewhere.
Petra and Larry have formed a strong bond this summer. It stirs up vague and unsubstantiated memories of college chemistry... covalent bonds? When electrons are shared by more than one element? Can't remember much, but I remember about these bonds being strong, tough to break. Petra and Larry seem to be constantly in the throes of some joke or other, to which I have not been admitted. They are in cahoots, all the time, day and night. It's sweet and charming and I feel left out.
They are growing up. Have I mentioned this? They are almost done, Larry especially. He's 20. There's not a damn thing I can control any longer (and I do love control, or its illusion).
After singing we came home and I made hamburgers and corn on the cob and we fell asleep in front of "The Darjeeling Limited."
Yesterday we dealt with a mysteriously shattering window on Larry's car, and Petra and I volunteered at the Box Office for this summer's Gilbert and Sullivan show (in which none of us is taking part), and I made us all (P, L, B and me) a kind of stir fry, salad and more corn. Oh, and homemade chocolate/coffee ice cream, left over from the 4th). Then we watched "In Bruges." We stayed awake.
Why do I love movies about hit men?
Oh yeah, and I finished the sermon (sort of). And now... well, look at the time!