"The home should be the treasure chest of living."
My lovely little blades... I am off to the East Coast for theater in East Hampton -- I shall be seeing Alec star in Equus!!! On Tuesday night.
And my high school reunion -- zoiks! Very excited for this...
Down to DC to see my pregnant best friend and her little family :)
Some quality time with my Daddy and Stepmother Marjorie ...
I am SO excited.
I cried tonight about leaving Gatsby... :( But that's what love does, it makes the best kinf of softies of all of us.
I love him with all my heart and soul.
And I am thrilled to be returning to my prep school campus, which I loved so dearly when I was just a teenager girl...
So, tonight as I pack and play with Nones (Gatsby's inexplicable nickname!), I leave all of my little blades near and far with Simon & Garfunkel's poetic take on home -- Homeward Bound.
Yes, my little blades, I am returning to that treasure chest of living, as the uber-talented Le Corbusier called it... I shall return to Lala with treasures untold...
I am excited to be in our musty, humid attic again, in our same house on our same little street...
I am excited to see my Dad's doggie, Molly. A golden with a lot of love to give.
I am excited to go to Conte's Pizza in Princeton and have a beer.
I am excited to go to East Hampton to see a play.
I am excited to see both my college and high school boyfriends...
I am excited to hug my Dad.
I am excited to go to the local diner and call the walk there -- walking downtown...
I am excited for Dunkin' Donuts!!!
I. am. excited. to. go. home.
I send each and every one of you love. And may you all have opportunities this summer to go home -- or to a home you have chosen to unwind and gather yourself up and remember where you come from... Love the little you and the family that brought you here. And the house that you set the dinner table in, the back porch steps that always needed painting...
The fireflies and the humidity. But -- when it comes to small towns in New Jersey, Bruce has always said it best:
The teachers who look oddly as they did back in the day.
The Dad who was your hero. And still kind of is.
Memories of your Mom. Your golden mom. Stirring one of those heavy orangey pans with Indonesian rice dishes simmering inside of them, she's smiling at you and your Dad walks up behind her, puts his arms around her waist, looks at you, 8 year-old you, at he kitchen table and says, Do you know how much I love your mother?
Ahhh... Yes... My dear little blades, I am going home. But I shall bring each one of you with me with my nightly blogs... And now, Simon and G will sing you all to sleep... Let's all dream of where we come from and who we've become. Are we living our childhood dreams? I'm pretty close to it, love is next!
I send Love to you all... Always.