Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Dinner last night with Deb, Jim and John, Estorbo's long weekend cat sitter. Bottles from Dead Horse Bay, with roses. Dinner for more than two people in this apartment is a logistical conjuring act. Prep must be very organized, or you have a sinkful of detritus in full view for the whole evening. As everything is cooked and cleaned and arranged all evidence of its creation must be removed. My kitchen work surface measures about 4 square feet. Which is why a cross country Airstream would be a cinch.
We had our cider and spicebush-cognac cocktails - christened either Bear Talk or Queen Anne's Brassiere, we can't remember which...A Bear Talk is what Jim and Deb were given in bear country, which made them too scared to stay in bear country. But it gave rise to a conversation about The Talk - the sex talk, the stranger talk, the drugs talk. Neither Deb nor I were given those talks. Were you?
Tomorrow we click our way to Montreal, an eleven hour train ride which is far nicer than it sounds. I love trains. The sound, the motion, the way your body jumps when at last you lie down in a bed at the other end - it thinks you're still on board. We may see snow, but the lakes will not be frozen over yet. We will pull over along the way to let the south bound train pass - it is a single, narrow track through the Adirondacks. They are thinking of closing the line.
Our picnic will be packed and our Thanksgiving will be celebrated in the cafe car at a wide table with the country rolling by. We will take coffee for our breakfast, and wine for our lunch. As we leave Penn Station and travel up beside the wide Hudson we will see what is left of the leaves as we sip our thermos espresso and hot milk sleepily. And we will be thankful for cat sitters who drive in pelting rain for many hours to look after a cat they have come to know through this funny thing called a blog, and who know his habits almost as well as we do. And for the fact that we are in each other's company, and that we like each other so much, and that we have no cause for resentment. And for cameras, which will be at our sides. And for things to point them at. And for big projects with uncertain results. And for insulated picnic bags that keep wine cold. And for flasks that keep coffee hot.
Happy Thanksgiving, adopted land. It's a custom that we should export.