Tuesday, October 21

Back from Buffalo, here’s the report:

Friday morning tired and worn into the car and onto the road. A.D. and I navigating music and words, coming to common ground. Stopping stopping stopping for various indulgences and needs, all minor. Across the landscape full of texture and color, browns and reds, cross-hatched in the season. Chocolate in my mouth melting slowly.

Arriving in Buffalo some time after dark, into careful streets of quiet houses in Williamsville, past schools and jobs and stories littering the way. Hello to the folks, food for the belly, and out the door again. A couple beercicles later we are back and into bed.

Saturday morning bagels and lox. Family ride to the Falls, this side of the border. Floaty pen and shot glass, fudge and post cards. Over the border, past the floral clock, to lunch looking over the river. Two hours on the bridge.

Saturday night: Anchor bar for Buffalo wings, D. and A. and I are drinking rounds like fish drink water. Jon Jansen at the other end of the bar, we say hello and he meets my Hello Kitty notebook. Wee Canadians keep us amused as the rest of the place recognizes Redskins. Ted (ted!)shows up and in our glory we let him in on the secrets we know, but not all of them. More rounds, whiskey and beer. Cognac when Rick arrives. Waitress joins us for a glass of wine, busboy enters the conversation in his own way…

Out too late to get up early but by 7:30 I am up, knitting in the dark kitchen, watching squirrels eat bird seed. Family rises, breakfast is eaten, father to gym and the rest off to find a craft show. We failed. Then father, A and I see Blake at the museum. Arthur Dove and paper mache, explanations and theory. Muses on either side. Out for coffee and music and tremendous cranberry streusel. Back home for dinner.

Sunday night (surprise!) out again, pick up Ted and Jay and Rendezvous with oysters and crayfish. How to win a girl, a self-help program in 67 easy steps. Pink with the rat and the drummer, outside lacking fries and gravy.

Home late again. Morning bustle, up and out. Brunch, cider, Tim Horton’s. On the road to Albany. Dinner with friends and an escort out of the city by police car 105. Drive, drive, drive. Happy to be home collapsing in arms.

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