I seem to have so many great ideas for blog posts running through my head these days, but the “new” house is really taking its toll on my free time. Between dealing with unpacking, cleaning, dying AC units, and just general moving mayhem, I haven’t had a whole lot of time or energy to put pen to paper as it were.
But I thought I would give you some idea of the nicer things that are a part of my new routine up here in the wilds of Chevy Chase, DC.
Even though we just moved about four miles north of our previous home near Dupont Circle the difference is amazing. Our new neighborhood is so peaceful with nothing much other than lots and lots of song birds to break the quiet. It has been a marvel to watch and listen to the birds in our leafy, breezy back yard. My particular favorite is the Gray Catbird who seems to greet us every time we walk out back. He is a pretty little fellow with a beautiful song repertoire. (I didn’t take this lovely picture, it is from a website for Bayberry Beach in New York.)
I have written here before about buskers and how magical they can be (and how maniacal they can be). One evening this week at my new Metro stop as I road the long, long escalator out of the station, I heard this wonderful music emanating from above. At the top of the escalator was a woman playing an acoustic guitar and singing. She was like Tracy Chapman, but her voice was stronger than Chapman’s and seemed much more versatile. Would she sound good on a record? I am not sure, possibly, but in that setting she was wonderful and sang with such passion, it was a real performance. Thankfully I had about ten minutes to stand and listen. Five dollars didn’t seem like much to give for what she gave me. Hopefully I will see her again.
The same evening I heard the great busker, a woman near me on the bus was reading Anita Brookner’s Lewis Percy. Now I have toyed with the idea of posting what I see people reading on my commute like Karen does at Bookish NYC, but she does it so well, I have refrained from being a sad copycat. But it isn’t every day one sees someone reading my beloved Anita Brookner. In fact, I am not sure I have ever seen anyone reading Anita Brookner. I took advantage of the opportunity to chat with her about Brookner. I took this to be a good omen for my new life. If even one person in my new neighborhood is reading AB, it makes up for the thousands on the Metro reading those Steig Larsson books that I have been avoiding because of their ubiquity. I guess it is the contrarian in me.
So, until we get a little more settled, the posts will be fewer than I would like. But at least in all the chaos there are lots of little things to be happy about.