Mockingbird Hill Cottage — Page 736 — Mockingbird Hill Cottage

The Commute

November 19, 2018 at 11:25 am by Claudia

About traveling back and forth from our cottage to Manhattan:

As is often the case when traveling back and forth to Manhattan, the actual event you are there for takes about two hours but the time spent on the road and killing time before and after the event takes about 10 hours. Some days it can be very tiring, as was the case yesterday.

We left home at 12:15 to catch the 1:00 bus into the city because Don wanted to make sure he was there in time to find the music hall and grab some dinner before he performed. We got there around 3:30 and grabbed a Via, which is like Uber, to take us down to the Lower East Side. Unfortunately, we were sharing with three other people who were being dropped off and the trip was endless! And the driver was playing rap music. We vowed to take a taxi on the way back.

Once we were dropped off, we found the music hall, walked around the neighborhood (it was cold and windy) and found a Thai restaurant. Don had to be at the venue by 6:00 for a sound check but we got there at 5:30 because we had nowhere else to go, and the performance was at 7. It ended at 8. We grabbed a cab this time, got to Port Authority in time for a 9 pm bus, and pulled into our driveway at 11 pm.

See what I mean?

Traveling back and forth means calculating the time involved, making sure that you allow enough time for late buses, potential traffic jams, and travel within Manhattan. We often kill time once we’re there. The trip home involves the same thing – can you make the next bus in time, do you have to kill time for an hour at the dreaded Port Authority, what time will you get home (usually later than you had planned.) And we’re no different from millions of other commuters. When I complain, I have to remember that there are people who live in this area that do this every day.

I have to do it all over again tomorrow. Some days it’s fairly effortless. Others? A slog. Both of us felt that yesterday was more of a slog.

But, the actual performance was wonderful. Really great.

Here we are, on the bus heading into the city.

I made Don take this. He doesn’t like trying to take selfies.

The Rockwood Music Hall, which has three stages. They not only provide a venue for performers, but are also known for their live recording skills, which is what happened last night. A live recording was made of the performance.

Around the surrounding neighborhood:

The famous Russ and Daughters, which has been in the same location since around 1914. It was packed. We peeked in the door and saw lots of fresh fish and baked goods and oysters, etc. I had heard about this place, but this was the first time I’d seen it. Love the neon sign.

I forgot to take a picture of Don performing! (He did a great job.) But here is our dear friend Rema Webb singing her heart out. Rema played opposite Don in Escape to Margaritaville (I call her his other wife) and we miss her so much. Hearing her glorious voice raised in song made us very happy. Rema is going to be on an upcoming Murphy Brown, by the way, and we learned from her that our friend Andre Ward – also in Margaritaville – has become a regular on the show! I think he plays a stage manager on the set. He came in for a couple of episodes and they liked him so much that they made him a regular. It couldn’t happen to a more talented guy. We haven’t been watching the show, but you can be sure we’re going to play catch up this week.

The young man playing the fiddle is the author and composer of this project, called Johnny and the Devil’s Box. It’s a bluegrass musical. Boy, is he talented! The music was wonderful, very powerful. I do hope that this project takes off for him, that he gets investors and, eventually, producers, and that it goes to Broadway, which is, of course, his dream. I haven’t read the script, neither has Don, but the music is beautiful. We’re pulling for him. Don was very honored to be a part of it.

And now we’re back home. Tomorrow, I head back in for an Anastasia rehearsal.

Happy Monday.

A Favorite Appears

November 18, 2018 at 9:48 am by Claudia

Look who was at the birdbath this morning. Our very own lonesome dove! Don pointed him out to me. I had just been wondering if the doves were still around and I got my answer. I can’t tell you how happy this made me. He drank quite a bit of water and stayed perched on the rim for about 5 minutes.

I still feel like crap, especially first thing in the morning. But I have to get it together because we’re going into the city this afternoon. Don is singing in a concert version of a new bluegrass musical called Johnny and the Devil’s Box. It’s still in development and this concert is being done to get a good recording of the score. It’s at 7 pm at the Rockwood Music Hall which is on the Lower East Side. Should be fun. Don plays a character called Pappy and has one song.

I’ve taken to calling him Pappy.

We’re taking the bus because we don’t want to be bothered with driving. So it will be a long day. And I have to go back into the city on Tuesday for a run-through of Anastasia.

Great new series on Netflix alert: There’s a new series called The Kominsky Method, starring Michael Douglas and Alan Arkin. It premiered on Friday and we’ve already watched all 8 episodes (wish they’d done more!). It’s really good. I like both actors, but I’m a big fan of Alan Arkin. He never makes a false move. Such an incredibly gifted actor. It’s funny and sad and lovely.

In the midst of the snow, and they were covered in snow the other day, the pansies are still blooming.

The nighttime lows are going into the teens later this week, so I don’t know how much longer they’ll be around. But it’s a blessing to see this splash of color on my porch right about now.

I love pansies.

Happy Sunday.

Snow, Pillows and Hunting

November 17, 2018 at 9:18 am by Claudia

The annual pillow migration has begun. I’ve retrieved all the cushions from the glider and the adirondack chairs. Some will be stored. But the three that are the back rests on the glider move to the loveseat in the living room. They work the best there. The pillows that I had on the loveseat (including the red checked one above) are, at best, filler during the spring and summer. I search every spring for indoor/outdoor pillows that will work on the glider or sofa, so I can have two good sets, but so far, I only have one.

Don just left for a rehearsal in the city and the loveseat is in a state of disarray, so I’ll take a picture of it later today.

We spent several hours shoveling yesterday. The snow was heavy and wet and there was a lot of it. Don wanted to do it all because I wasn’t feeling well, but I wasn’t going to let that happen. It was exhausting. We took a break for a while, went back out and shoveled some more, but the snow was even heavier. And our muscles were complaining. So we did everything we had to do to make sure Don could leave today and I could get out if necessary. There’s still a bit to shovel, but there might be some melt today, so I’m hoping I can avoid that. Still not feeling tip-top.

We hobbled around the rest of the day. I treated myself to some hot chocolate. We made dinner and watched the tube. All the while, we were saying that we couldn’t wait to go to bed!

We were cheated out of the pleasure of watching the first snow, which is usually gentle, with maybe a few inches falling. Nope. We got a big storm and giant mess.

Oh, in case you’re wondering, we didn’t use the snow blower because it tends to eat up the Item 4, or gravel. Since we just had the driveway done, we trying to insure that it stays in place. It’s impossible not to get some in a shovelful of snow, but there’s much less. If we had someone plow the driveway? Forget it. We once watched in horror as a guy plowed our driveway, depositing the snow and half of our new gravel along with it in a pile across the road.

I have heard four rifle shots while I’ve been writing this. Hunters. I despise hunting with every fiber of my being. I want to find them, grab their damn guns, and tell them what I think of them. Obviously, that’s a fantasy, but the intensity of my feelings about hunting are not a fantasy. And please don’t bother with any of the usual defenses of hunting. In truth, there are none. Not in this day and age. The most egregious excuse is that it’s a “noble” cause, that the hunter is just helping to thin a population that will starve over the winter. I’ve never believed that for a second. It’s about killing an innocent, magnificent animal and finding an excuse to do it.

My dad, gentle soul that he was, had a bow and arrow and went hunting every fall for a number of years when I was in high school. He never killed a deer. Because, when up against it while aiming at a defenseless animal, he knew it was wrong. And he stopped any pretense of hunting after that. We had many arguments about hunting before he stopped, but it wasn’t until several years later that I realized that he deliberately missed. That he didn’t have the heart to do it.

I talk about this every other autumn, it seems. We live in the country. I see these guys wearing camouflage in local shops and at gas stations. It’s an unfortunate fact of life here. I can’t wait until hunting season is over. Unfortunately, it just opened today and it goes until December 9th.

Wonder what it would be like if animals had the guns and we were the prey?

Happy Saturday.

The Commute

A Favorite Appears

Snow, Pillows and Hunting

Lambs Like to Party

A Note

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