My old stick —— which greatly helped, my lousy rotten feet being what they are —— was broken during the drive up from Atlanta to Providence. I should have picked one up when we were in Salem last month, where they were plentiful and cheap, because while I found a beautiful one in Wickford today —— carved like the figurehead of a ship —— it had a $200 price tag. Not that it wasn't worth $200; it certainly was. I just can afford to pay that right now. So, we wandered up and down Boston Neck Road, Brown Street, Phillips Street, all the shops, but no luck. The sun was a white demon in a pale blue sky (sort of a werewolf-coloured sky). We met a rather shy Irish wolfhound. I paused on the Wickford Bridge as the tide was flowing into the Cove and watched white geese and mallards and scores of tiny fish. Finally, heat addled, we headed back to the car about 4 p.m.
We swung by Warwick Mall on the way home, and people at the MAC counter at Macy's were very helpful, and I bought decent make-up for the first time in years. Among other things, I found a great limited-edition lipstick bearing the rather absurd (but appropriate to the afternoon) name "Dangerously Hot."
We stopped by the Dexter Training Ground to get our weekly CSA bag of produce. Good stuff this week: corn, peaches, tomatoes, summer squash, a salad mix, string beans, and a half dozen eggs. There was a vendor with fresh oysters and clams on ice, and I was sorely tempted.
So, yeah. We're almost ready to leave for Burlington. I'd forgotten how very annoying and expensive and time-consuming it is to be social. I still haven't decided what I'll be reading tomorrow afternoon. Probably something from To Charles Fort, with Love or A is for Alien. I really need to be pimping the latter. We shall see.
And I should mention the eBay auctions again. I should also pointed out that the copy of Alabaster comes with the "Highway 97" chapbook (a prequel to "Bainbridge"), and the copy of "To Charles Fort, With Love" comes with the Little Damned Book of Days chapbook.
Okay. Now a couple of photos from Wickford. A wonder the camera did not burst into flames:
The way I see it, if you're going to be the sort of asshole Xtian who actually believes the Old Man in the Sky will send you to the Bad Place to suffer for all eternity, you might as well have a sense of humour about it. Then again, maybe it is to be a sermon on global warming or the climate in the Sahara...
Just a shot of the docks in Wickford Cove from the bridge. I love that particular sailboat. If only I were rich. And knew how to sail.