the week that was or clearing vines and making merry with cheese

I confess my head is a bit foggy this Sunday morning.  I hope these cups of coffee will retrieve my senses to go enjoy The Producers this afternoon.  But the haze is a happy one of exhaustion, not just a little wine, and that willingness to just pause in the here and now for a few vague seconds to hold onto the warmth of a weekend already well spent.

Even before the weekend arrived, there was our first full week of spring weather.  Or, at least, the one when I decided to make use of the lingering daylight and the fact I get home with time enough leftover of which to make productive use.  On Sunday I started raking up leaves and all the weedy entanglements from the flower beds that I have more than less neglected since returning here.  Wild rose bushes and the gifts from the birds – raspberry branches – have overtaken the daffodils and irises and the path to my propane tank.  I felt triumphant after unearthing the ground and at least getting some sunshine to the heartier perennials.  Mid week, I decided to get my exercise by taking on the rose vines behind the pool, which has completely crushed the fence that needs replacing.

I felt very much like I was in a match of Jumanji, with not just the prickly rose vines… but apparently the wisteria crept through the woods and along the ground.  I have at this point two large piles of tendrils… but have only gotten a third of the way.  I hope the last weekend of April blesses me with burning weather… because it will not only help flatten out the lawn, but be such validation to turn the piles to ashes.

I can’t deny I was a little nervous taking on this project.  Who knows what could have died or nested underneath that entangled mass of vines?  I have seen the neighborhood cats waiting to pounce inside it.  But all I have found thus far are a baseball, a tennis ball, a beach ball, what I think will prove itself to be a moderately disintegrated swimming tube… and lots of planting pots my mother left to go in the earth?  There is however, an act of unearthing that comes with the physical activity.  As I clear away this spot, I think I am clearing up things in my head.  Certainly that vitamin D and the feel of my arm muscles informs a positive chemical release… but it is good, quiet thinking time.  For my book.  For life plans… for stupid Facebook debates.

I am going to give this one paragraph… because it will actually inform another blog at some point.  It’s a fool’s errand to comment on a Facebook post with which I disagree… when the post is of a philosophy which I oppose.  But… whatever.  I like seeing things I oppose so I can ask myself why I think differently.  Trying to argue the point on Facebook though… is not productive.  But I got sucked in this week.  And it is such an energy drain for me.  So I ask myself why I do these things and create a pebble in my shoe… which bleeds on to my friends’ feeds and kicks pebbles in their shoes.  I’m not going to excuse my poor judgment, but I will say the conversation got me thinking about my novel.  I don’t think the arguments I offered shifted anyone else’s perspective… but the aftermath was I shifted the light on a plot… and I’m contemplating if that is a good thing… or just another unnecessary distraction.  More to come on that.

Then the weekend did come.  And with it my first day off from the Museum.  It was a comp day… which in a bizarre twist of events, I ended up using so I could volunteer at my former work and usher at Banned in Boston.  It was a strange reality to know I would be at the event and have so little stress.  I woke up early even though I didn’t have to and had stress dreams… it is funny how things don’t leave you.  It was nice to go to the party and move amidst the crowds.  The show had some funny moments, including this video.  Watch it. It’s hilarious.

It was great to see former co-workers, which forced me to frame and describe my emotions about my new job.  And it’s pride.  I am very lucky to be working in an institution so committed to changing itself and using that change to lift the community.  Through art.  That is so much of what I am and how I see the world these days.  And I like it very much.  Indeed, I like the community very much.  As I came up that hill on 290 on that misty drive back, I had that swell of delight that… as much as it was nice to go back and see everyone in Boston and the event that was so much of my life for nearly eight years… Worcester is my home.  And my heart.

Heart that just oozes with joy this morning.  Another supper club last night.  Another full table.  And lots of positive conversation that seeped into the hour passed midnight.  The play for our Shakespeare theme was The Merry Wives of Windsor, one I chose deliberately as a comedy to lighten our string of tragedies… and because it comes in a month that marks twenty years since I performed as Mistress Ford at Lesley.  It was the play that made me fall in love with Shakespeare and realize it isn’t a high art piece of literature.  It’s bawdy and mischievous and immature and beautiful.  This play is definitely bawdy and immature, full of drunks and jokes about flatulence.  So the food theme was cheese.

 (To represent Anne Page's suitors, there was Welsh cheddar for Slender's priestly advocate, blue Brie for the royal Fenton and French cheese for Dr. Caius.)

That play definitely changed how I view not just Shake-speare, but also theater.  So I put the question to my guests, what play or book or music changed you?  The answers kept us at the table well after our cheesy nibbles  (which included cheesy fried chicken, cheese corn chowder, a goat cheese, bacon salad, vegan butternut mac and cheese, Welsh Rarebit muffins, four cheese bread… and something else I probably forget) were cleared from our plates.  From Shirley Valentine to Tales of the City to Paul Coelho to West Side Story… to of course, Shakespeare, I am so happy to know the inspiration of the artists in my life.

Then we moved back to the reluctant fire with our cheese cake and cookies and more wine.  More discussions of creativity… which turned into dream projects.  Conversations like this are so vital.  Not just because of the joy it brings or how it lets the minutes fade into oblivion… but it really makes me appreciate the community and friendship of artists.  Our common interests.  And who knows… perhaps some future projects.  I think if that is the case, we have an excellent foundation of our supper clubs to make them very warm experiences.  Just like The Merry Wives of Windsor 2003.