Codfish and George Bailey

Lunch and a play. Very different feel about it than dinner and a movie, but taking myself out on a date was fun nonetheless. The day was cold but far from brutal and I needed some time away from the cottage after spending all morning writing. I went to the Black Dog Tavern for lunch. Those nine words seem so easy, but unless you're a woman and single, you can't appreciate their impact. If you're a man, single or married, fuhgetaboudit, you can never understand. If you're a woman but married and decide to take yourself out to lunch, you still know you are alone by choice and it's often a welcome change. But, if you're a single woman, you're there alone. It takes either lots of confidence or not caring at all. I'm happy to report that for me today it was the former. I took along "Writing from the Heart" written by Nancy Aronie who guided the writing workshop I attended on the Island when I first arrived two months ago. The codfish sandwich and a Pepsi looked the most appetizing, and I wasn't disappointed. The fish here (needless to say) is always fresh, light, and delicious. After taking my time enjoying my lunch and reading, I strolled along the dock watching the ferry unload its two-legged and four-wheeled cargo.

At 3pm, I went to a matinee of The Vineyard Playhouse's adaptation of Frank Capra's movie It's a Wonderful Life. The Playhouse performed it as a "live radio broadcast" version, so it was much like a staged reading with the actors at the microphones with their scripts in front of them. Sound effects were provided by a synthesizer and a variety of other objects. The production was brilliant. It amazes me each time I attend a live performance just how talented people can be. It doesn't matter that you see behind the scenes, you get carried away in the story and suspend disbelief for a couple of hours.

Coincidentally, I also just received the DVD of the movie version in the mail from Kathy (who often acts as my own personal Netflix). I'll watch the movie soon and as I always do, I'll cry at the end and sing "Auld Lang Syne" right along with all George's friends in Bedford Falls.

Home Again, Home Again...Jiggedy, Jig

Above: Rural Rhode Island from the train.


Home again on the Vineyard. I had such a wonderful Thanksgiving break, but I am happy to be back in my little nest in Vineyard Haven. Yesterday's journey from Aunt Glady's house to my door took 14 1/2 hours, so I was happy to crawl into bed last night. I left at 7am and still only caught the last ferry from Woods Hole to Vineyard Haven at 8:30pm. A saving grace was that my cousin Karen gave me an upgrade coupon for Amtrak so I was able to travel in business class instead of coach. More leg room and I had the row to myself. I wrote and slept and ate and slept and wrote and slept some more.

My foot has been remarkably cured! I went to Dr. Martin Flaum in Rockville, MD and he x-rayed and examined my left foot. He determined that there was no bone spur but that it was plantar faciitis. familydoctor.org/online/famdocen/home/healthy/physical/injuries/140.html
He injected cortisone into my heel as close as he could get to the inflamed area without me jumping off of the exam table, gave me a prescription for anti-inflammatory drugs, recommended orthotics for my shoes (which I bought right away), and sent me on my way since I was to be in Maryland for fewer than 24 hours. Within a few moments, I was able to place a little weight on that foot, and by today you wouldn't ever know I was even suffering!

One quick note about our entertainment on Tuesday night. Aunt Glady, Rob and I took the Metro down to DC to see a performance of A Christmas Carol. It was so much fun, and it really did put me in the holiday spirit. I should see more plays. In fact, today I picked up a flyer for The Vineyard Haven Playhouse's next production - It's A Wonderful Life - which will begin on 12/12.

It was very balmy day today - 50 degrees and sunny. My landlord hired a couple of guys to help him and the three of them blew all the leaves into piles to be raked up and hauled away. Autumn has ended and winter is here.

Macbeth – Shakespeare for the Masses (Quick and Painless and Free)

Last night I went to the Vineyard Playhouse (3 blocks away) to see a staged reading of William Shakespeare’s The Tragedy of Macbeth. Although nothing has yet topped the performance of Macbeth at Shakespeare in the Park with Liev Schreiber, this came close. In fact, in its own venue, it was equally as effective. The house was packed, and by the end of the one-hour version of the play, I knew why.

If you’ve never been to a staged reading, it consists of a limited number of players performing different roles with minimal props on a bare stage. The players are generally reading the lines as they perform them, and in this case, there was also a narrator explaining anything that may have been unclear because of scenes that were skipped. She also provided sound effects and introduced the characters as the scenes were set.

The power of Shakespeare’s words to carry us into his story never ceases to amaze me. Whether it be a high-walled garden in Verona, a Mediterranean island in the storm-tossed seas, or the barren heaths of a Scotland under the rule of a treacherous and psychotic King, his universal truths of humanity are no less real now than they were 400 years ago. With only a few lines, deftly performed by a talented cast, the depths of horror to which ambition can drive us are played out as murder follows murder follows murder again. Act 5’s guilt-tormented Lady Macbeth incessantly washing her blood-stained hands in her sleep (“Out, damn spot!”) sends shivers down our spines. And there’s no better time of year than Halloween for the Three Witches’ famous lines:

Double, double, toil and trouble,

Fire burn and cauldron bubble!...

Eye of newt and toe of frog,

Wool of bat and tongue of dog,

Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,

Lizard's leg and owlet's wing,

For a charm of powerful trouble,

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

Double, double, toil and trouble,

Fire burn and cauldron bubble!

On the walk home, I remembered how it is to walk in the dark…next time I’ll remember to take a flashlight since there are so few streetlights. Just before I got to my cottage door, I looked up and stopped dead in my tracks. Stars…billions of stars in an ink-black sky. And I felt small and humble and was reminded of Macbeth’s speech after Lady Macbeth has died:

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day

To the last syllable of recorded time,

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage

And then is heard no more: it is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing.