Tag Archives: Rockport
Taking up the drink
I suffered from dehydration last week. It manifests as Charley Horse when I’m sleeping. I can shelter my painting from the brilliant sun, but not my self. My friend Barbara Vandervort, who is a Civil War reenactor, told me about a beverage called switchel. “It’s quite refreshing, and has lots of electrolytes. Not that our ancestors knew that part, […]
Be careful what you wish for
We sailed every summer until my brother died at age 17, at which time my father, in his great grief, gave up his boat. After that it was catch-as-catch-can. What I mainly remember about sailing is the endless scraping and caulking every spring. I’d like a little sailboat but my husband isn’t keen. That’s really […]
I bring my own circus
Yesterday I got a text from a Rochester painting student. “I feel like I can’t paint without you,” she wrote. “I’m just not as good.” “That’s absurd,” I texted back. “Ask yourself, WWCD?” (After a moment’s reflection, I realized she wasn’t old enough to get the joke, so I clarified: “What Would Carol Do?”) She […]