Sylvia's Journal

I went flying again, as a passenger; me in the right seat and Bill on the left. We had planned to fly to Katama airport on Martha’s Vineyard. But the strong southwesterly winds reduced our airspeed to about 60 knots forcing us to shorten our trip and turn around at Bedford.

It was a very bumpy ride; our little plane was tossed around like a leaf in the storm and constantly blown off course. Bill handed over the controls a few times to me and it took all my concentration to just hold speed and altitude. How did I manage all that plus the radio and navigation instruments I wondered? I was suddenly in awe of my accomplishments before. It seemed daunting to re-learn my flying skills.

Back on the ground we finally deposited six fishing crates full of Sita’s and Tessa’s old sketchbooks, Waring homework, old guidebooks, Gourmet magazines, our own life drawing practice pads at the Manchester recycling center.

In the afternoon we had planned to go to a lecture about the poet Charles Olson but we got the address wrong and ended up at the Fisherman’s Brew pub, sitting on a terrace overlooking the harbor and drinking our ales – once again Kabul was very far away.

In the evening we celebrated Mary Anne’s 80th birthday. We met at yoga class some five years ago. We became friends with this extraordinary artist – several of her pieces have found a place in our house. We share a common Dutch ancestry and a love for Indonesian food – a preferred potluck contribution.

We brought chicken satay with peanut sauce and atjar, a pickled vegetable salad, to the festivities. Our present for the birthday girl was one of the smoothest beach stones we could find with a Charles Olson poem written on it and wrapped in a lobster bait bag – a fitting present for a Cape Ann artist we thought.