Monthly Archives: September 2007

Is dis love?

I am feeling much better, thank you. Last week’s fever really messed up my head, though. As I mentioned in my last post, when I tried to read, or write, the words would rearrange themselves on the page as I was looking at them. It occurs to me to wonder if this is what it was like for Sarah.

You see, Sarah was dyslexic. I read pretty fast, when I’m not febrile, and she used to take it as a personal offense that I could finish a book in the time it would take her to finish a chapter.

Sarah had an extensive collection of floaty pens, so the word Eskesen was pretty common in her vocabulary. When we were first dating, every time she would say Eskesen, I would correct her: no, it’s Eseksen. And when she would say Eseksen, I would correct her: no, it’s Eskesen. It got to the point where even I didn’t know which was right any more. I managed to keep a straight face for almost two months before I couldn’t keep it going any more, and confessed. We laughed, but then she said, “That’s a really mean thing to do to a dyslexic.”

One day she called me from work, giggling. “Hi honey,” she said. “I saw the strangest headline on CNN.com today. It said, CLAM BELLIES UNREST IN THE MIDDLE EAST. And I thought, what could that possibly be about? Is it because shellfish aren’t kosher? Or, what’s-it, halal? Maybe something to do with the oil spill?”

I didn’t know.

“So then I went to a meeting, and when I got back to my desk, it said, CALM BELIES UNREST IN THE MIDDLE EAST. That makes a lot more sense, don’t you think?”

We shared a good chuckle over that. Her sign-off was the same, whenever she looked silly: “Aren’t you lucky? You get to keep me.”

Look at this photograph

Hi there! I’m sick. How are you?

The fever makes the words move when I’m not looking. They run off the page and go screebling up the walls like Martians. So, until I get my marbles back, here are a few pictures from our Vineyard vacation.

If you click a thumbnail image, it will take you to a larger view of the photo. You can leave general comments here, but I think you can also leave comments on the individual photo pages if you so desire.

Enjoy!

Benchmark

Nate and Nonna

dinghy dock

Menemsha whaling statue

Flying Horses

Where the horses run free

It must have been around 1999 when we took Annie and Ben and Lisa over to Martha’s Vineyard for the day. We bopped around Vineyard Haven for a little while, then took a cab to Oak Bluffs to ride the carousel.

The Flying Horses Carousel has been in operation since the late 1800s. It claims to be the oldest operating platform carousel in the nation, but I’ve noticed that they all claim that. I wasn’t around then, so I can’t say. The important thing is that Sarah had been riding the Flying Horses since she was a little girl.

This is the first carousel that I had ever ridden that included a ring grab. The ring machine arm is in easy reach. You can grab ring after ring, but they’re all steel. Towards the end of the ride, the operator puts the one and only brass ring into the chute, and one lucky rider grabs it and gets a free ride.

Native Islanders have perfected the multiple grab technique. I once saw Jeremy get six rings on one pass. Sarah was no slouch, either, but she had never caught the brass ring… until that day. She whooped with laughter and held it up. I think Ben took a picture. We all filed off the carousel, but she stayed on to collect her free ride with the next group of riders.

Under the cover of the crowd, I went to the concession stand and bought a souvenir brass ring, with a purple ribbon (her favorite color, of course). By the time she was off the ride, I had hidden it safely away in my pocket.

On the ferry ride home, we rode right up front in the bow of the boat. She noticed the tears in my eyes and asked me what was wrong.

“Nothing; I’m just so happy.” She started to tear up too, and gave me a big hug. I said, “I feel as if I’m the one who caught the brass ring. I’m so lucky to have found you.” Then I pulled the crumpled paper bag out of my pocket. “I bought you a present…”

The summer that Nate turned one, the weather was brutally hot. We took him to the mall fairly often, to escape the heat in their air conditioning. The food court had a big, fancy carousel, and after one of our lunches, I suggested that we take Nate on it. “No,” said Sarah. “I want his first carousel ride to be the Flying Horses.” Sure enough, it was; later that summer, we sailed over, and she took him on his first ride. He wasn’t sure what to make of it all, being so young, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Last month, my mother and I rented a house on the Vineyard for a week. It was her first time there, and I was overjoyed to be playing tour guide once more. Early in the week, we spent the day in Oak Bluffs, and of course, we had to ride the Flying Horses.

“Nate, do you remember the Flying Horses?”

“No…”

“This is the first carousel you ever rode. Your mama took you when you were just one.”

At first, he wanted an outside horse, but the inside horses are lower and much less scary, so we switched to an inside horse. I belted him in, and pointed out the ring machine. I wasn’t sure he would be able to manage it, but I held him tight, and by durn if he didn’t get a ring every time around. I was so proud as he stacked them up, six, seven, and ah, God, Sarah should have been here for this. I hid my tears from him as best I could, but he felt me sobbing. “Why are you laughing, daddy?”

“Because I’m so happy! You’re doing a great job.”

Usually I let him see me cry, but I didn’t want to spoil his moment. I managed to wipe my eyes with my shirt and put on a smile, just before he turned to show me what he had in his hand.

The brass ring.