(no subject)
kirk is at work, i am at home tucked into bed with sleeping cats and books and papers. i wish this had been a magically productive weekend, with the paper draft i'd planned, along with 100+ completed pages of reading. but yesterday we drove to connecticut for canadian thanksgiving, with aunts and uncles and cousins and such. my senile grandfather claimed not to recognize the house, or anyone in it. he constantly makes a hissing sound, air rushing through his teeth, and he can't use silverware anymore. both my dad (in town from oregon) and my cousin were playing guitar while things were cooking; they played nice classical or low-key music, but as soon as they stopped, my grandfather would say, "thank you. jesus god that was awful."
i also heard a number of stories, a propos of immigration class and wanting to know things from my grandmother. she showed me a new box of old old photos, newly inherited: great-great aunts and uncles dressed in victorian muttonleg sleeves or bright white 1920s dresses in chicago, postcard prints and formal portraits, and a business card from my great-great grandfather springer, a housebuilder in fort wayne, indiana. i (re)learned that her family is three-fourths german (charlottensberg and berlin); and that my italian great-grandfather immigrated through ellis island instead of through canada, as i had assumed.
towards the end of the night, before we drove back to boston, the old ali baba toy basket was dragged out from the back bedroom, and the toy telephones and things were pulled out one by one, and my cousin danielle and i laughed until we cried remembering the ritualistic "who's in front of who" we chanted while running in circles on the yellow rug when we were four.
i also heard a number of stories, a propos of immigration class and wanting to know things from my grandmother. she showed me a new box of old old photos, newly inherited: great-great aunts and uncles dressed in victorian muttonleg sleeves or bright white 1920s dresses in chicago, postcard prints and formal portraits, and a business card from my great-great grandfather springer, a housebuilder in fort wayne, indiana. i (re)learned that her family is three-fourths german (charlottensberg and berlin); and that my italian great-grandfather immigrated through ellis island instead of through canada, as i had assumed.
towards the end of the night, before we drove back to boston, the old ali baba toy basket was dragged out from the back bedroom, and the toy telephones and things were pulled out one by one, and my cousin danielle and i laughed until we cried remembering the ritualistic "who's in front of who" we chanted while running in circles on the yellow rug when we were four.