A new book, with a chapter about the work of UD’s father-in-law, Jerzy Soltan.
A link to the book.

UD creates the paths around our house; Mr UD names the paths and makes maps.

Toccata and Skull

Began the day playing Bach’s Toccata in E Minor; and, as I got here –

I felt – as I so often do at that particular point – deep emotion, a heart-stopping sense of the beauty of the piece and the pathos of us all. Not sure why this transition gobsmacks me. I suspect it’s because the conversation the fugue establishes has an emotional break here. Here we’re not just dancing back and forth with one another, with ourself. Here we are letting the tears flow.
Post-Bach, a walk with the dog through new parts of our forest, where we stumbled on a deer skull.

Return to Snowy Forest
Home from the beach, to a black and white world.

Les UDs are off once again…

… to Rehoboth Beach, where they will join friends to see in the New Year. Blogging persists throughout.

Back from Boston…

… to the land of pumpkin-eating squirrels.

As ever, UD takes the train this morning…

… to frigid, dreary Boston for the holidays.

Though now that she checks the weather, maybe the old joint will crank out some sunshine for a change.

Blogging continues undaunted.

The Long-Playing Mystery

Les UDs finally discovered the precise boundaries of their property; their landscaper had a surveyor do the deed. Turns out we own a good deal more forest than we thought we did, so yesterday UD created a path through the woods, connecting one of our established paths to the new boundary marker. This involved raking up leaves and dirt, plus pulling and tossing dead branches – work UD loves for itself, and also for the way it shapes the land and gives the dog and me more walking space.

It was a clear cold day, full sun, and it took UD very little time to forge a nice wide walkway.

At one point she raked up an old lp.

Why would someone toss/bury a record in the woods? She and Mr UD speculated. An unwanted gift? Did it fall out of a trash bag? But then how would it end up a half acre away, at the very top of the property? What animal would find it worth picking up or nudging?

Something emotional? A favorite track, associated with a love affair gone sour, hurled in rage or sorrow into the void?


Short of sending it to the FBI forensic lab, there was certainly no way of identifying the record. Right?

Wrong. Take a look at the lp’s center, where I’ve focused a light. All it took was deciphering the printed and written language there, and then checking a discography.

VAN GELDER appears on part of the curve; that would be the recording studio; PRLP is I suppose the record label: Prestige. 2934A (I think that’s the written number) is, according to the Prestige Records Discography for 1961, “To Rigmor,” a piece Joe Newman (the whole album is the Joe Newman Quintet, Good ‘N’ Groovy) wrote for his wife.

Chez UD on a very cold early morning. The bulls sport Christmas stars; behind them, our Balinese bird cage stands ready to receive visiting wildlife.

Black Market Bistro, the restaurant around the corner from UD’s house…
… gets all Christmasy.

UD‘s county – Montgomery – barely holds on to its top twenty richest counties in the country ranking.

UD: NOT living in the Bible Belt.
In front of Black Market Bistro this morning.

UD’s Garrett Park Neighbor…

… has built himself quite the successful restaurant business. (One of the owners lives around the corner.)

Les UDs…
… get new trees.

La Kid, Halloween.
La Kid, looking a lot like her mother at that age, with two Irish friends in Chicago last night. (She’s in the middle.) She’s about to go Halloweening dressed as Moira from Schitts Creek.

Les UDs, who are nothing if not orderly in their habits…

… are off for their annual Halloween at the beach thing. Rehoboth, dog parade, costume parade, boardwalk up and back twice a day, dinners with old friends, gazing at container ships through binoculars. Of course UD will continue blogging.

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