We learn that Con Ed won’t commit to our power coming back on for at least another week. Buoyed by last night’s good luck, we get down to business this morning. Thanks to the fact that our stovetop works, we can make coffee, tea, oatmeal. A bit like can-do pioneers. I wait until the library opens and claim a hard back chair overlooking the steely Hudson River. Life is beginning to resume its normal flow. Train service between us and the city has begun again. Our son is at home resting. And I’m writing a speech with scant input from the client. I’m in make-it-up mode, channeling voices of people I’ve never met. Finished, I buy a head of Boston lettuce. By now our refrigerator is officially useless. And so we spend a few hours attacking the scum and dried decaying vegetable ooze with the zeal of stranded swimmers in the middle of the ocean who have convinced themselves that the secret of being saved is kicking purposefully forward.
Momentum is all.
Dinner at my Mom’s home which was touching in countless ways, not the least of which is watching “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel” (again) knowing she’ll respond warmly to the film, its theme and gentle story.
There is no one quite like Dame Judi Dench.