In 1989 Australian playwright, Sandra Shotlander, who I had met ten years earlier, visited me in New York City with her friend Roy Newell. We had a very good visit. Over the years Sandra and I have kept in touch, usually with an update about Roy from her. Now, 22 years after that first meeting, Roy was cruising New England and Nova Scotia and stopping at Newport, Rhode Island for the day [yesterday]. Although I've been visiting this area for over twenty years and have lived on Cape Cod for a year and a half now, I had never been to Newport. But I've read and heard much about the fabulous mansions that were summer homes of the rich at the turn of the last century. When I mentioned my hesitation about showing an Australian around a town I'd never seen myself, my Boston-bred friend, Jan Sisson, offered very kindly and generously to change her work schedule and drive me there. xGI/AAAAAAAADm0/Vf2J8gaoj_Y/s1600/PICT0002.JPG"> If I had written out a work order to the Weather Gods for what kind of day I wanted, I could not have specified a better one. The sky was cloudless, the trees are turning [but not very brightly this year] and the temperature was perfect. We had a little panic about how to find Roy but, being fairly clever women, if I say so myself -- and Jan the most clever about the matter of finding the dock area -- we found him waiting on a bench. And we immediately recognized each other -- white hair doesn't necessarily make all that much difference
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!