Sylvia's Journal

Under blue skies and temperatures that had brought people outdoors everywhere, Bill and I flew north to a deserted Skyhaven airport near lake Ossipee in New Hamsphire. I landed, taxied off the runway, then back on and headed west to Concord. This airport was a little busier with lightweights, little planes like hours and even a helicopter vying for airspace. The gusting winds blew a lightweight a little too close to our plane. He wasn’t doing his radio work very well and also flew too high. But I got a chance to look at it from close up and it looks like fun. I might try one in the summer at Plum Island where I have seen them parked.

From Concord we flew to a lovely small place near Keene where I learned there is an ice-cream stand near the airport, something to remember for when summer comes. As we taxied to the apron a man was waving to us. This turned out to be our aviation doctor who holds the power to let us fly or ban us from the skies, every two years. Of course he has his own plane. Both Bill and I have contributed to that plane, and will continue to do that, every two years, with out-of-pocket payments that no insurance company will reimburse us for.

Bill took over and flew us back to Beverly the remaining 50 nautical miles where we arrived exactly when the plane was due home. I gave Arne a postcard of an aviation painting from Ethiopia. I am trying to get him started on an ‘aviation art’ collection from developing countries. It is a slow collection process because aviation is usually not part of the artist community’s experience in those countries. The postcard joins a woodcarving of Garuda, the Hindu god of pilots, from Nepal that hangs above the desk. For Bill I brought a bag of Ethiopian coffee beans.

I got home just in time to join Axel on an outing to Gloucester to get native shrimp, pretty much straight of the boat. During the few short shrimp fishing periods – most of the time shrimp fishing is out of bounds – you can get enormous bags of the small shrimp for very little money and eat until to you’re full. Across the street from the shrimp place is the Fisherman’s Brew pub which happened to have its Grand Opening and so we joined a noisy crowd of beer testers, 5 different varieties. Only the stout did not get our thumbs up. The small fish shaped plank with five 6 oz glasses was accompanied by a platter with smoked fish, cheese and olives. This became our lunch.

We drove to Salem to join Kairos and Christine who had ventured out of Boston and Cambridge with thousands of other city folks. The occasion for us getting together was the Mahjong, Contemporary Chinese Art exhibit at the Peabody Essex Museum; an exhibit that delighted us both in its organization and the quality of the pieces. We drove back in a girl car and a boy car. The girls got home first, made tea and talked about pregnancy, childbirth and raising children in various languages – Chris is 7 months pregnant. The boys went out and bought exquisite wine after a long study of the contents of two wine merchants in Manchester by the Sea that surprised Kairos who thinks we live among country bumpkins. We consumed the exquisite wine with the shrimp and sat around the table for hours, discussing China, Japan, architecture, movies and becoming a father late in life with few (but very strong) expectations for this baby (we predict sparks in about 15 years).

Just before I tumbled exhausted into bed I examined my sore arm and noticed that the bruise on my upper right arm had grown bigger and was edged by dark blue lines. We contemplated going to the emergency room but the prospect of a midnight wait in an emergency room shoved the thought aside. We home remedied with a bag of ice. This morning the colors are more subdued but it is still sore, and being my right arm, interferes a bit with normal functioning; a visit to the doctor might be in order.