What is it about moving that is so exhausting — even before you have done any actual physical work? An anticipatory mental tiredness was creeping into my spine, radiating out, creasing my forehead and, oh my God, making me grumpy! Hard to believe, I know, but true.
Buck to the rescue! This woman needs a nice long lunch, to sit in dappled sun and shade on a stone terrace, at her favorite restaurant, The Grovewood Cafe, in Asheville.
Over a succulent little chunk of salmon, accompanied by a modest wreath of roasted red pepper, grilled zucchini, yellow squash and potato slices, and a spoonful of barely steamed baby spinach, I uncoiled and relaxed.
We talked and dreamed over our building plans at Longleaf. It’s going to be a house full of surprises, with an honest to goodness library and a third story observation room (accessed by a spiral staircase), windows and a balcony all around for tree, bird,wildlife and night sky viewing. That’s our dream. Now when the builders’ bids come in. . . we may have to rethink, but for now we are trying to think, dream and plan for living, not for resale, and for integration into the landscape, and pure fun.
At sunset yesterday, we sat on the deck with Maggie dog, continuing to talk and dream until past dark. Lovely day.
This morning, renewed, I’m flying around, pulling out drawers and flinging open closets. I found a brand new pair of long white butter-soft leather gloves with pearl buttons, still in the original package. They belonged to Buck’s mother. They remind me of a slower time, when we didn’t feel funny about the elegance of hats, gloves and long gowns. In the picture below, they are resting on a glass display case filled with old miniature spoons, a fan, and other small objects. These are part of various collections gathered by Lois’s second late husband, Jack, who was a commander in the Navy. He was once administrator of Bethesda Naval Hospital. Jack died before Buck and I met, but I am a careful curator of his collections. Their very eccentricity makes them precious.