
I seem to have poison ivy.

I seem to have poison ivy.
by Ken Kesey
This was a hard read because it’s narrated from the point of view of one of the mental patients; namely, the Chief, the most memorable character in the movie – I came into this having seen the movie, once, about 15 years ago. I was psyched that it was told from “Chief” Bromden’s perspective at first, but it’s a little hard to go with him down so many of his schizoid journeys.
It was fun to read how Nurse Ratched and MacMurphy were originally written; and the most memorable, climactic scenes were very true to the book.
PS Extremely sexist and racist.

That last box is going to be “grab bag.”

This was such a good time. Co-workers, hot dog, humongous beer, some good plays.

There have been 100 annual Champlain Valley Fairs this year. And give or take a year, we’ve been to 25% of them.


by Ellyn Gaydos
This book is about the hard work of being a farmhand, spending a day with back bent doing serious vegetable farming, and killing animals. Killing a lot of animals.
Very poetic. Was sometimes hard for me to read for an hour at a time, because of its lack of narrative arc. But beautiful in places.
“I love him too, but I am promised to farming. I choose it over him every time. It is not like choosing between two people. How could you trade the sky, the water, or the mountains for a single heart? Instead I imagine the earth opening to take me into its fold.”
“In the heart of summer, [we] are dwarfed by the farm, the sheer life force of it, pulled by the demands of plants and animals, pressed like blunt objects into the ground, buried in the work we have wrought.”
“[T]here is always enough food to eat. This is the compensation for the crude work of training life into channels of fecundity.”
I fell for a fake app and gave away my credit cards.
Just in case you feel dumb sometimes.
My latest. Not liking it so much.

Yesterday we biked the Chambly Canal, which was one of our perennial favorites pre-pandemic. Very nice to see everything just where we left it, including beloved brewery Bedondaine.
The route takes one along a stretch of gorgeous canal-front homes, and allows one to see pleasure boaters being raised and lowered in the various canal locks. I spent the day covetous of the boats, the beautiful homes and properties, and most of all the swimming pools (high 80s). (We saw many swimming pools, and only ONCE did we see people in any of them – why is that always the case?)
Today, though, I sat on my own back porch listening to the sounds of nature reading my Sunday Time & WSJ. And I didn’t think any of those homeowners had anything on me.
The Irish Pub where we ended the night:

No, actually we ended the night eating ice cream cones from the freezer of a Mobil station in Georgia. A summer Saturday is not complete without ice cream.