The Vanderbilts Snap on Two and Four
Aug. 28th, 2018 10:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mallorys_cameraMore fiendish exercise. Notwithstanding which, I awakened in the middle of the night.
Decided to watch the BBC’s 1995 production of Pride and Prejudice.
Guess what? The scene I remember best from the series—Colin Firth emerging, naked, from Loch Pemberly with a 12-inch erection—never actually took place!
Ah! The vagaries of memory.
###
Else? Made some money. Need to make more money.
Had a couple of long phone conversations.
One was with Max, and for whatever reason, I couldn’t think of much to say to him.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
“Define better,” I said. “My ground state is always ‘melancholy.’ Is that what you mean?”
Apparently, yes, because he immediately launched into a list of things that would make me feel better. They were mostly activities. Start teaching English as a second language again. Go canvassing for Antonio Delgado.
Oh, my GAWD! I thought. Solicitude of offspring for aging, presumed-to-be-addled parent! My life really is a cliché.
The deal is basically that while I love the Hudson Valley—it’s not that it’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever lived, Monterey was plenty beautiful, it’s that the Hudson Valley’s particular type of beauty—a centuries-long compact between Man and Nature—moves me in some peculiar way—there are very few people I can have substantiative conversations with here.
Don’t get me wrong!
There are lots of people to talk to!
Plenty o’ takers whenever I want to have a conversation about composting techniques or the respective attributes of John Deere versus Lawn-Boy mowers.
And it isn’t that I don’t enjoy conversations about composting and John Deere lawn tractors.
But, you know.
Sometimes a girl wants to talk about naked Colin Firth emerging from Loch Pemberly with a 12-inch erection.
And books. Sometimes a girl wants to talk about books.
###
I went running late, late in the afternoon and got out of Vanderbilt Park just as the ranger was closing the gates.
What happens if you don’t get out before the ranger closes the gates, I wondered? Does that hideous old mansion come to life? Do the ghosts of dead Vanderbilts give parties?
The full moon was just rising. Bright orange. Sturgeon Moon, I believe they call full moons in August. In Pisces, hence my fantasy of swinging dead Vanderbilt soirees, I suppose.
Still, no sign of turning leaves. This was the closest thing I saw to turning leaves:
Decided to watch the BBC’s 1995 production of Pride and Prejudice.
Guess what? The scene I remember best from the series—Colin Firth emerging, naked, from Loch Pemberly with a 12-inch erection—never actually took place!
Ah! The vagaries of memory.
###
Else? Made some money. Need to make more money.
Had a couple of long phone conversations.
One was with Max, and for whatever reason, I couldn’t think of much to say to him.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
“Define better,” I said. “My ground state is always ‘melancholy.’ Is that what you mean?”
Apparently, yes, because he immediately launched into a list of things that would make me feel better. They were mostly activities. Start teaching English as a second language again. Go canvassing for Antonio Delgado.
Oh, my GAWD! I thought. Solicitude of offspring for aging, presumed-to-be-addled parent! My life really is a cliché.
The deal is basically that while I love the Hudson Valley—it’s not that it’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever lived, Monterey was plenty beautiful, it’s that the Hudson Valley’s particular type of beauty—a centuries-long compact between Man and Nature—moves me in some peculiar way—there are very few people I can have substantiative conversations with here.
Don’t get me wrong!
There are lots of people to talk to!
Plenty o’ takers whenever I want to have a conversation about composting techniques or the respective attributes of John Deere versus Lawn-Boy mowers.
And it isn’t that I don’t enjoy conversations about composting and John Deere lawn tractors.
But, you know.
Sometimes a girl wants to talk about naked Colin Firth emerging from Loch Pemberly with a 12-inch erection.
And books. Sometimes a girl wants to talk about books.
###
I went running late, late in the afternoon and got out of Vanderbilt Park just as the ranger was closing the gates.
What happens if you don’t get out before the ranger closes the gates, I wondered? Does that hideous old mansion come to life? Do the ghosts of dead Vanderbilts give parties?
The full moon was just rising. Bright orange. Sturgeon Moon, I believe they call full moons in August. In Pisces, hence my fantasy of swinging dead Vanderbilt soirees, I suppose.
Still, no sign of turning leaves. This was the closest thing I saw to turning leaves:
