Kendall is here

By kendallishere

School's Out

Cristina and I had work to do early in the day, and when we came back to the house around noon, these colts were just climbing their leggy way out of bed, covers a-tumble, eyes half-closed, faces not yet composed. Still they kindly paused at the top of the stairs to let Baba make a photo. I’ve been doing that all their lives.

Somehow the conversation turned to their trip to Greece last July when their dad was on tour there, and finally I got the full trip-report and all the phone photos: the heat, the Parthenon (closed because of the heat), the best felafel in the world, the Alice-in-Wonderland tea shop, the (air conditioned) Atlantis Museum on Santorini, watermelon salad with mozzarella and grapes, the thrill of swimming in the Aegean (for all but a certain teen who refused to go in—everybody has their boundaries). Their dad is on tour in Europe again this year, but after a rough year financially, the only travel this summer is a visit with their other grandmother. (Update: Initially I posted a photo that showed the kids' faces, but I liked the thumbnail so much I cropped the whole thing to legs only.)

The Extras are Margie, yesterday. We went out for affogato (“I’ve never had this before, what a dream! How wonderful in the mouth.”) And when we came back to her place, we perused Vivian Maier’s street photography, New York City in the 40s and 50s. It is Margie’s New York, and she recognized it and had a running commentary for every photograph, as if she were there again.

“Oh look, a Luncheonette! You don’t see those now. I wonder why.”

“This man works hard with his hands. Look at those hands.”

“This woman is not interested in this man, but he’s interested in her!” 

When she turned to the last photo in the book, Margie cried out, “Oh, that’s Riverside Drive! I know just where they are.” It was, and I reminded her that she has richly detailed memories from that part of her life, so it isn’t true that she has no memory. She brushed me off with a laugh and a roll of her eyes, but I see that her imagination and her mind, apart from her memory of the past 50 years, is still in excellent working condition.

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