Sunday, September 18, 2011

Boston and Home at last!

Home from our second trip this month and hoping to stay, write, blog about something with content, hunt, and not travel.

Our stay with sister Karen Graham and her husband George exceeded all expectations. We didn't go out much- rather, we sat and ate and drank and talked and met with friends, some of whom we hadn't seen in many years-- writers, artists, bloggers, falconers, hunters, fly fishers, pigeon men, carnivores, vegetarians, a Buddhist, and more. A quick digest to I hope entertain...

A gathering: Dr Hypercube, Rex Passion (Explorers Club, white sharks, elephant seals), me, the multi- talented Patrick Porter (botanist, flower farmer, pigeon man, bird hunter, connoisseur of scent hounds, writer...), his wife Jill, and, up from Philly, Eric Wilcox (falconer-- my apprentice in his youth-- western big- game hunter, and oriental textile expert; source of many of my "objects", like the Uzbek gun slip).


Some of the same crew indoors-- that's George with the dark hair down back.


Me with my (slightly dotty but still energetic) mother, one reason we went back:


One of my old friends, well- known fly fisherman and writer Paul Dinolo-- I have known him since we were about 13 (he called and announced himself by saying "is this the guy who called Richie Salvucci a fat shit in 1963?") He also built me an ultralight fly rod while we were there, and tied flies at the party!



Our favorite "foodie", frequent NM visitor and current Manhattanite Emily Kunhardt, with newly platinum hair. Congratulations on the new apartment; can't believe you were 16 when we met, and won't reveal your age now, if only because it makes ME feel old.


Us with Sy Montgomery and Bronwen Fullington at a great Vietnamese restaurant in Lowell (goat on the menu!) I am hoping to get some of Bron's photos of her recent trip on the "Buddha Trail" in India, especially of virtually extraplanetary Varanasi.


Lib & (with camera) Karen:


My nephews Alec (tall) and Evan, going out to Young Marines; I apologize for the weird color!


George and I web- surfing. Notice the B17 logo on his shirt? He runs a historical site for WWII B17 history here , based in the 34 missions my father's crew flew and full of fascinating lore. George gave me a chunk of runway from Lavenham. On his next visit to England I hope to put him in touch with "Johnny UK" who lives only 25 miles from there.


I hope these trips have been fun. Forthcoming blogging will be less "personal"!

4 comments:

Gil said...

Steve,
If you or George ever find yourselves traveling through Georgia on I-95, a must stop for both of you would be at the Mighty Eighth Museum a rock throw from the US 80 Exit on I-95 just south of the Savannah Airport. The 8th Air Force had its beginnings in Savannah and the museum is a fitting tribute to the sacrifice of all who served in the Liberators and Flying Fortresses over Europe. Gil

M.L. Miller said...

I am finding goat on the menu more frequently. It's available at our farmer's market here and I think it's delicious meat if prepared properly.

Anonymous said...

Loving any blogging you do - and by the way, man, it is all personal :)

Welcome home to NM and to Querencia, we're getting ready to settle into some good winter reading and dreaming of dreams ...

Ricka - The Black Dog Lady

Anonymous said...

I love goat--reminds me a lot of venison, actually. I got it occaisionally when I had pet goats and Barbados sheep--I was way too soft-hearted, and would never think of killing my pals for food, but the wolf-hybrid pack I had at the time felt differently, and despite my efforts and(mostly) very secure fencing, there were boo-boos now and then(sigh). But I wasn't so sentimental that I wouldn't butcher out some of whatever was left for the freezer! The most bizarre accident occurred when one of my clever young billys, turned out in my fenced front yard with the rest of the herd to graze and browse(I didn't even own a lawn mower in those days--no need of one!) hooked my front screen door with his horns, pulled it open, and let himself in the house. I didn't know it, being down in my barns doing chores. After cruising through the house and damaging a bit of this, and a bit of that(including jumping up on my bed and peeing and leaving a few dingleberries!), he unfortunetely decided to push his way out the back door right into a fenced area where the wolf dogs were.......I heard a terrified screaming bleat choked off rather quickly--I arrived much too late to intervene, alas. And it took me awhile to figure out just what had happened! It was sad, but Billy WAS delicious.....L.B.