Thursday, November 22, 2012

My usual walk

My usual walk around the neighborhood is a 1.5 mile loop.  The other day I thought about the people I know or have known who live along my route and how this contributes to my sense of being connected to my community. In the small world category is this house, previously owned by Mr. Schuman,  my late 9th grade government teacher at Eastern Junior High in Greenwich. I particularly remember that class for three reasons:  It was the first time we had a black classmate. Kennedy was assassinated that fall, and we moved to Chicago mid-year.  One of my former high school students lives down the street and an elementary principal with whom I took graduate courses lives across the street.


Just last month I performed a wedding in this house.  As an elected Justice of the Peace, people contact me from time to time to ask about my availability and how much I charge (nothing).  The Thai nanny who works in this home emailed me while I was traveling so I didn't respond.  Shortly after our return she drove down our driveway one morning with her mother who was visiting from Thailand and the little girls she looks after.  How could I say no?  


Someone once told me that this driveway on a street that forms a border between Norwalk and Westport  leads to the lovely home where the jazz saxophonist Gerry Mulligan lived with the actress Sandy Dennis sometime between 1965 and 1973.


About two years ago a young couple bought this lovely house across the street. Even though Mrs. Donnelly --- the elderly widow who lived there for many years --- had a long driveway, our children always loved to trick or treat there because she was so clearly delighted to welcome them.


Giving thanks 2012



This morning I volunteered to help my friend Marcia at the Rowayton Turkey Trot, a fundraiser for the Rowayton Arts Center.  It was fun standing in the middle of the road in my orange vest, directing the runners where to turn at the intersection of Pennoyer St. and Rowayton Ave.  I didn't notice until the end of my shift that the race organizers had drawn a turkey on the pavement at each intersection.

Besides cheering on the racers, I suggested that what they were calling a hill around the corner was really just an incline. On my way home I passed a group of day laborers at their usual spot near the train station.  Will they get any work today?  Do they know it's Thanksgiving?