Wednesday-no WIP

Can you stand some more local color? Other than that, I've got nothing. Roger was down in the park for his walk this past weekend and snapped a few shots of autumn in the village. He told me there were some shots of flying boats and I didn't know what he meant until I downloaded the pics from the camera this morning. Flying boats-yeah, now I get it. The pics are clickable.

A couple of the many beautiful old circa houses that line the waterfront. Most were houses that belonged to the ship captains and ship builders that founded this community. There's one house not too far from those I'm showing you, that once was the Pink House. When I was growing up it was very hush-hush(not) that it was the house where the local Madame lived and all the working girls lived. Very cool house though-at least I always love it because it was so colorful...color wise I mean(heeeee). It's a beautiful old Victorian.

Someday I really intend to resume quilting and sewing again...really I do. Meanwhile, we are having the roof re-shingled and possibly some new sheetrock in the older part of the house. Maybe while I'm being held hostage in the house next week by the workmen on the roof and possible sheetrock workers I will set up the machine and fondle some fabric. I'm coming across so many wonderful things I purchased over the course of the past year and never got around to using. It's fun making these discoveries of beautiful fabric bundles and I can't wait to cut into them. Has anyone seen the things that folks are making with the cut selvage edges of fabric? There's a whole blog devoted to it called Selvage Blog. I'm fascinated. Love to try something small like the ornaments that were posted last week. Great postcards as well.

Back to the grindstone.....talk to you later

Monday this & that

Not sure what the problem is but we have been having some computer problems. We could most likely use a new computer but it also could stand to be re-formatted blah blah blah....

Anyway, I'm still here and haven't fallen under huge weight of all the stuff that I've un-earthed. I wasn't feeling that great this weekend but luckily for me, I have a husband who is very indulgent and helpful. He cooked diner Saturday and I got to hang around playing the Lady of the Manor. He recently purchased for me a book which I have been in love with since before it was written. I am a huge fan of Nelson DeMille and years ago stumbled on "The Gold Coast". It is on my list of 10 most favorite modern books and I have re-read it so often that I had to buy another copy in a used book store last year because the pages wee literally falling out of the original. Anyway, my dreams, literary wise have come true and he has finally written the sequel. I was hooked the moment I read the first page and it felt like coming home. When I finished reading "The Gold Coast" I felt like I lost a friend in John Sutter and actually wondered what would become of his life. Thank you Nelson DeMille for answering my questions in the most wonderful ways. When I finished reading it Sunday morning I picked up my dog-eared copy of "The Gold Coast" and started reading it again. The thing is, I grew up here and these people are no strangers to my life at all. I can put a face to any of the characters instantly. Many years ago I dated the son of one of the large Italian families who are in the construction business here on the island. It was a colorful chapter in my life. An equal number of years ago I worked in the perfume and cosmetic business and I became good friends with a couple who owned a company and lived in a gated place in Lattingtown. They didn't just give parties-they entertained. The room I stayed in was larger than my apartment then and it came with servants. I used to wander away from the party and, frankly, escape the clutches of some idiot who tried to stick his tongue in my ear or something that's equally icky when it's not being done by the man of your dreams. I'd go up to the children's quarters where they had built a playhouse that was room-sized and the walls were painted with storybook characters and lighted mobiles danced around the ceiling. Occasionally, I would find a couple who were stumbling around trying not to look guilty. I just went there to drink some champagne and try to imagine what being a child in a place like that could be. The second best place was the Library. A whole room full of beautiful books and no one ever looked at them. I believe they were mostly for show and most likely bought by the yard from a dealer. The larcenous Library thief in me imagines I could have gotten away with some good ones that no one would have ever missed. They had a tree growing in the center of the breakfast room. A huge, very old, historical tree. I wonder what happened to that place and to the tree. It had a historical marker on the trunk. Maybe it's still there? Good times.

Anyway, it makes a story twice as fascinating when you can picture the events based on moments that have taken place in your own life. So, I really had a great weekend with my nose buried in a wonderful book for hours.

Of course, the down side of that is I've got a lot to catch up on. So off I go-back to reality but it sure is fun to travel down those memories from time to time.