Last night Larry, as a pre-independence Day sort of thing, Larry and I entertained L&L, Lynne's birth mother Joyce who was down from Connecticut and whom we love to bits, her friend Barbara from Staten Island, and Paula and Maddie--hereinafter to be known as P&M--from Long Island. All arrived in one enormous SUV, which Maddie (sporting an elegant new Susie Quattro-ish hairdo) handled with admirable expertise though Paula was playing Cinderella because I had to 'lock her' into the trunk when they left for home.
It's amazing how one experiences the countryside though another's eyes on occasions because P, Larry and I were standing outside on the steps peering into the bossoms of the trees (the snort of M's SUV audible in the background as she was executing said admirable maneuvers) and P remarked how breathtaking beautiful the area where the house is situate is--the tall trees with their sprawling canopies, the intermittent flicker of a million fireflies within them, the glow of the lilies in the flowerbeds, and the absolute silence.
"Good night," I said, after I'd walked her to the garden gate.
"Not yet. You have to lock me in the trunk."
Hahahaha. "Good night."
"I'm serious," she said.
I looked over at the SUV, at M who had both hands poised on the wheel and smiling over at us, at L&L, Joyce and Barbara nattering and laughing within because much vino had been consumed by all. I looked at the back door of the SUV, its window pane at an angle toward the sky as if waiting for the sun to rise. P, petite and very suntanned, skipped over, leaped inside and crouched, awaiting me to perform my duty.
I slammed down the trunk door and M did another quick maneuver (just to show me she could) and I waved as they sped past, the sound of laughter piercing the silence, though wasn't sure if Paula could see me. (Paula's beloved horse had to be put to sleep a few weeks ago, so I hoped especially that she'd enjoyed the evening.)
An enjoyable evening of rigorous conversation. One that touched on a myriad of subjects from Hillary and Obama that got a wee bit hot and sent P fleeing to Larry who was busy in the kitchen because some of the guests asserted testily that Hillary can never win and Obama was inexperienced, through the arrival of the latest Harry Potter novel in shrink wrapped crates at Lee's Borders store in NJ with an order written on their sides that they weren't to be opened until 12.01 on the day of the launch or there'd be consequences, and finally illegal immigration. Regards the latter, the discussion was whether foreigners should be compelled to speak English in the US. Everyone agreed they should. To everyone's astonishment, Barbara (who's studying Hebrew in NYC because she wants to read the Torah in its pure form and interpret it herself and not depend on a third party's interpretation) informed us that there's a part of Brooklyn where the road signs are only found in Russian.
Wishing everyone everywhere a great Independence Day. Now how does that go in Russian!!
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