When I set out to learn about my mother's bridge club, the Jewish octogenarians behind the matching outfits and accessories, I never expected to fall in love with them. This is the story of the ladies, their game, their gen, and the ragged path that led me back to my mother.
It’s August, do you know where your therapist is? Sunning on the beaches of Truro? Psychoanalytic conference in Geneva? Facelift in Fort Lauderdale? Obviously, I’ve been out of the therapy for a long time. I’m issue-free. I no longer act out. I’m clear. I’m whole. I once had a therapist who went away in July. What the fuck was that about? And a social worker who went in September. Okay, I get that. I read Judith Rossner’s August so long ago I can’t remember anything about it.
Where do you go?
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Betsy Lerner 
Oh, this brings me back to my shrinking days. I often took all my time at once, a month usually. Patients would narrow their eyes and resentfully ask where I was going. It wasn’t fun that.
Betsy, glad to hear that you’re issue-free. Someone has to be.
Bobbi!!!
Agreed! So happy to hear from Bobbi!
I love August. Reread it last summer. The patient is a young woman, she gains and loses weight, wears her hair up and down…
I’ve heard the whole of NYC takes the month of August off, practically. Everyone. Out of the city and off to summer homes or places. My friends in Canada – they tended to take August off. I’d have co-workers go missing for weeks at a time.
Me? Right here. Where I am now. Staring at this screen. Worrying over the WIP. But. I spend a lot of time on the porch too. Beverage in hand at the end of the day. It works for me.
The deep waters of the Atlantic ocean, way over my head. Then wine & food with others. It’s the only time I’m even mildly social. On cloudy days, the attic.
I go to nature. I go to solitude. Wherever I am.
“Where do you go?”
I go where the cash-strapped folk go, which is mostly nowhere very far away or very often.
However, Susan and I are planning on motoring downstate in three weeks’ time for the total solar. An event not to be missed (the eclipse, silly, not our motoring). May the force be with us.
A worthwhile journey!
Ogunquit, Maine for a few days, a cabin not far from the beach. A stroll along the Marginal Way (aptly named, a succinct New England description) and riding the waves in the cold ocean. A cool miniature golf course, too. And a great ice cream place. My wife loves lobster rolls, so there’s that, too. I’d like to cruise up the coast to see Bar Harbor again, but we’ll see how much time allows.
Wherever you go, enjoy!
Fernie, a mountain town bisected by the Elk River.
the town is full of city folks, lawyers wearing spandex, who bicycle in tight formation, zipping along gravel pathways, shouting, “on your left” while wealthy hippies with dreads pedal $5000 mountain bikes slowly down the middle of the road.
but there’s a middle-aged man who skateboards everywhere. once i saw him round the corner onto main street at 11pm, a crouching arc of rebellion.he was carrying a bottle of wine. for a moment i thought i was him.
i try to write but the heat makes me swoozy.
Northern Ontario. I fly into Wabakimi Park on a float plane where my outside communication is shortwave, at best. I eat fish. I chase bears. I generate pages of notes and sketches largely for incorporation into drafts which have frustrated me over the past year.
It’s an internal process. It’s all an internal process.
I have a book coming out in TWO weeks and it’s my busiest time of year at my university day job. My to-do list is many, many pages long. Taking a vacation right now would be totally crazy stupid.
So of course, I just scheduled a long one for the very week my book comes out.
Yet one more example of my fine decision making skills.
This August I’m slipping into semi-retirement. It’s about time.