rivervox

I took a short walk this morning to the Muddy. I've learned to manage Tuesdays better but not, apparently my schedule. For some reason, I neglected to understand that the FoPA meeting was MONDAY and not today. I had planned dinner for the fam, my outfit and what I needed to bring. We were having dinner and I said I wouldn't be home for dinner because of they party. Violet said, but it's tonight. MM made a cake and wore a dress. Sure enough, it was last night. I discovered this an hour into the 1.5 hour event. I was just shattered. I discovered that it's not on my calendars, digital or paper. Did I undermine myself secretly on this? My conscious mind was very focused on it, nervous but resolved to go. It wasn't that I forgot, it was that I had convinced myself, despite reminders to the contrary that it was a different day. So weird. Thankfully, no one will call me out on it. It is very bad manners and I probably should apologize to the host. It's the end of the year, so by Sept. it will be forgotten. My family responded with shock, saying it was so unlike me to forget anything with my calendars, lists, plans and strategies. They are right. It's upsetting because it's very rare. I lay in bed and did crossword puzzles. Then dragged myself up to do laundry and watch Stranger Things.

Lovely day ahead. Meeting imminent.

This is my grandmother's birthday. Born Mary Frances Gavin in Rutland, VT in 1904. I always remembered her birthday because it was the day before St. Patrick's Day and she would get green and white flowers. I remember there was a little "Erin Go Bragh" sign in it one year and she explained to me what it meant. Having a little trip down genealogy lane today to look at my ancestors. On that side, it looks like my great, great grandfather, Martin Rohan of County Clare is my most recent Irish immigrant ancestor. Funny how it's so interesting to me now. I want to find out about all her siblings, scattered by a fire. I may have to sign up on one of the services and dig in. I also want to buy a butter dish, so middle age is a thing.

Finding out such interesting things, like she was 8 months pregnant when she got married. Like my father's grandfather lived on the same street as my mother's in Cooperstown. All roads lead back there, to Vermont, and on to the west of Ireland.

I had such vivid memories of making the beds with my grandmother because the Brewster house had those old woven bedspreads. Memory so tactile and intense. The past is very real to me, raised as I was by Edwardians.

I was thinking of the house in Brewster last night when I had trouble sleeping. I think we stayed too long. It wasn't a vacation, it really became a home to us. And because it's so much better than this, it's doubly painful.

Things move forward here. People are getting vaccinations but the British variant is rising. When will it ever end. When will we ever learn.