Category Archives: In the new neighborhood

In the new neighborhood, Small truths, Whatever

A doorway into thanks

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For terns and their fast wings
and the silvery fish that vanish beneath them.

For the little that I have
and less now, even, that you left me with.

For the oddly striped and sunblocked
and our ritual weekend-wash in the sea.

For my books
and your eye that didn’t discern their value.

For this memoried vessel
and its wealth of beauty in bloom.

It draws my eye from what’s been broken and dusted over;
a greasy black powder to name my fear.

For the comfort of neighbors
and the part of me, despite this, that wants to feel ok here.

For the perfect pink end to this day
and its voices that animate the darkest corners of my heart.

For your lack of any real malice
and the small brown bunny left in peace to be a witness.

For all the familiar things that mock me, unseen
and the Kingbird’s solemn regard.

For having no one, really, to run to
and surviving, anyway, this first of disasters.

*This post was created on a Mac!… the only happy result of my laptop and most all of my camera gear being stolen early this week. I’m working my way through being angry… and trying to find that thankful place in my heart again.

In the new neighborhood, Pastimes, Snapshots

Boardwalk reflections

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Some scenes from an early evening walk along the boardwalk at Asbury Park today…

My favorite shop for reflection pics is the Bodega Shoppe at the southernmost end of the boardwalk. There’s always something interesting on display in the window there… lately there’s this crazy looking bust with a curly wig that ends in a sailboat… fun! Reflected in the window are the happy people dining at Stella Marina (which has really nice homemade pasta, btw.)

The sky reflected in the windows of the north side of Convention Hall… the south side of the building’s been restored, but this side is still crumbling into the Atlantic bit by bit.

A new children’s water park—a water-filled playground where kids wade through shallow pools and run under a giant squirting watering can—sits just off the boardwalk, in view of the ocean. I need to find a stray kid so I can go…

😉

I stumbled upon a jazz band playing a free concert in Convention Hall… Asbury, you just never know.

😉

Growing up, In the new neighborhood, Whatever

Days at the beach

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The people along the sand
All turn and look one way.
They turn their back on the land.
They look at the sea all day.
–Robert Frost

I grew up with a mother that loved the beach… whole afternoons were spent baking under the summer sun, a cooler filled with sandwiches and ice-cold plums. Childhood photo albums are proof that many of our vacations centered around a visit to the shore, as if living within a couple minutes drive didn’t already offer us enough of the ocean’s delights.

My father is mostly absent from these memories… his fair and freckled skin kept him under the beach umbrella or back at home when he wasn’t rescuing me from the breaking waves or my brother’s torments. I don’t remember much beyond the shock of seeing him in shorts, his legs whiter than white, some goofy looking never-worn sneakers, his trademark black dress socks and the huge mole that grew near his left knee. He used to tease that the little fish liked to nibble on it…

😉

Someone, maybe him, or one of my big brothers used to let me ride on their shoulders in the water, out of reach of the sharks and jellyfish that I was so sure would devour me whole.

I spent a couple hours yesterday watching the same stories unfolding for any number of beachgoers… building sandcastles… bodysurfing… eating tuna sandwiches with a fine dusting of beach sand… the heady scent of Coppertone… all reminding me that this love affair with the sun and the water and the sand is in my blood, even though I burn just like my dad always did.

Any beachy memories to share from your own growing up?

Birds, In the new neighborhood, Snapshots

Three reasons I got nothing done today

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Is there any sweeter distraction than that of baby birds?

Oh and don’t worry about the one in the middle… it does have a head. I think it might just have been mid-nap when I snapped this pic.

THE pic I missed was when a spotty-breast baby robin perched itself as the fourth beggar in the row and was rebuffed by the parent kingbird… made me giggle for a half-hour at least.

😉

In the new neighborhood, Pastimes

Yoga with an audience

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I arrive at yoga class at the Y really early so I can stake out my comfortable spot way in the back left corner. The lights are low. I can hide there.

So… yoga on the boardwalk, in broad daylight, was a bit of a stretch for me.

😉

I very nearly bailed when my sister-in-law called at the last minute to say she wouldn’t be able to make it to join me. Then I thought, “What the hell?”

I’m glad I did… it was a lot of fun. There’s something really humbling about practising yoga outdoors, with the sky and the ocean at finger’s reach and crowds of people gawking and pointing and laughing.

😉

The class meets outside a little health food shop on the boardwalk and proceeds benefit Mary’s Place by the Sea in Ocean Grove.

In the new neighborhood, Seasons, Snapshots

Late spring weather report

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Is this the coldest, dreariest June ever? Or does it just feel that way here at the Jersey Shore? I feel like I live in London, or somewhere out on the coast of Oregon with all this fog and dampness and rain.

It’s kind of depressing.

There have been moments of light and magic… the rain clicking and tapping its song on the roof… the porch and its electric, marshy yellow-gray smell of storms before they get here… the big flag up the street snapping in the wind and the curtains blowing like ghosts in the night…

There was an hour or so on the beach at Spring Lake yesterday at sunset, after crab cakes for dinner at the inlet with the fishing boats going by with their escort of laughing gulls…

A bit of magic despite the gray, but I’m tired of wearing sweaters and long pants.

Is it summer yet in your part of the world?

From the field, In the new neighborhood, Snapshots, Whatever

A week of Tuesdays

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Glass art on display at Hot Sand on the boardwalk at Asbury Park

I often have to walk off the workday on Tuesday. Tuesdays feel something like setting up your desk for the day on a subway platform in Manhattan; at midday I tried a few laps around the building in an effort to get my head straight… it didn’t help much, unfortunately. The end of every month tends to be crunch-time for me anyway, but whisper the word vacation and any facade of controlled chaos just falls away.

It feels almost wrong to vent about it here, but the first round of *bumping* that I’d mentioned in this post will take effect on the first of May. Sadly, a social worker with 24 years experience in my unit will be bumped to a downgraded position in another agency. We’ll have to train the person that’s taking her job, and a couple of us are consoling ourselves with thoughts of how we might best do that.

*insert evil grin*

She’s a nice-enough lady, but it’s been decades since she’s been expected to have any real client contact. People in my profession get promoted so they won’t have to deal with clients anymore, sort of like school teachers becoming administrators so they won’t be expected to actually teach. I imagine she’ll adjust soon enough, or maybe just retire a bit sooner than anticipated, but picture someone straight out of a Little House on the Prairie episode walking the streets of the South Bronx. That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but you need thick skin to do this job well and you also need to project a bit of an edge when you’re out there with clients and I have a hard time seeing anyone doing that in a twin-set and pearls and kitten heels. It should be amusing to watch, at least.

I’m working late more often the last couple months and today’s rain had turned to sun and then back to thick fog and drizzle by the time I found myself walking the boardwalk early this evening. The bit of color on display there was a welcome distraction from an otherwise dreary sort of day.