Sunday, May 15, 2011

A day in my small town..

It was a small town day yesterday. I was planning on biking around, but rumbling thunder and the promise of rain took me back to the old Jeep.

At the baseball field, I watched nine year old Matthew catch his first fly ball. My heart stopped as the ball bounced, but landed in his mitt. It was as exciting as if we were watching the world series.

In the meantime, the younger kids, Jonah and his buddies, collected rocks and sticks and set up a store on the top row of the bleachers. They began selling these treasures. It was a great activity for six year olds; settling up a store, valuing each piece, collecting money and giving change. I was their best customer coming home with four twigs and and a large rotten log.

It made me think of Roxaboxin, a children's story by Barbara Cooney. Jonah, of course, knows the story. I asked all the little boys if they knew the story, and they did not. Do I dare take a story book to the next game? Will they sit in the grass and listen to me read this wonderful story?? Ah, it is worth a try.

The day continued with stories at the Praisathon, a special event at the new Furth Theatre, martinis at the Hatchery with friends and then the Moveable Feast film series.

We watched The Architect in the Wells Theatre at Trine. It was directed by Nathaniel Kahn in search of his father, Louis Kahn. I had heard the name but did not know the story of the man and the magnitude of his work. It was a wonderful film, thought provoking and given to conversation. Following this film, we had wine and a late night salon supper. No one smoked, of course, but had we added the blue wisps of smoke, I think I could have been carried into another time of Kahn and Hemingway and Wright.

I had to think about my lack of knowledge of Kahn and the little boys at the field's lack of knowledge about Barbara Cooney. How can we know it all...how can we know all that we don't know exists?

The rain was pelting down as we left. When I arrived home (the three blocks) my twinkle lights glistened in the rain and welcomed me home.

All in my small town.