SATURDAY NIGHT FUN AT HEMLOCK HALL
October, 1975
The highly-fried honey mushrooms go very quickly, then the rest of the oysters, and I continue to gorge myself on crackers and cheese and rice cookies and poppy-seed crackers and bourbon and branch. Jo and Jan had appeared in their wooly bathrobes as a joke for the "long dress crowd," and then we very tipsily went off to dinner, where Jo and Jan had arranged that we all sit together at the large living room table. That was a treat of a meal that ended with a SECOND piece of chocolate cake from Freddie (and I blew her a kiss and she said she didn't get it, so I blew her another and she clapped her hands and rubbed them together. A totally charming woman) and TWO extra pieces from the plate on the table, and then we also had a second ice cream to share, so we got up groaning from the table. John had been going up and down the stream with their tape recorder, and wanted everyone to hear his stream, so we went up at 8, after smoking (and all the booze and finishing the sherry---but that was the night before), and watched the two women play solitaire in the strung-out way, and I kibitzed once too much, so Freddie got up and demanded I play, and she devastated me by saying dryly "I wouldn't have done THAT." Then the two girls arrive, Mack and Curly put away all the green maps from their planned assault on Mt. Snowy, and we start listening to John's tape. I remark to Betsy, "Let's go listen to John making water," and Betsy repeats it, and when we HEAR the trickle on the tape, Freddie glances at me and starts to laugh, and then I start to laugh, Betsy pokes me, saying that's awful, but then JOHN says "It DOES sound like that, doesn't it?" so for each NEW trickle, Freddie and I totally break up, Betsy remarks "You two, you're just like second graders, giggling in school," and we break up some more. Then Mack starts to join us, and then Jo and Jan start laughing too, and Jo is observing us with delight and envy. I love Freddie. The next morning at breakfast, when we hug and kiss and say goodbye, she says she SO likes to find a kindred spirit. She's no slouch: took over a dying woman's club in Baltimore (or Towson) and put it onto an ecological bent and now they won't have ANYONE ELSE for President. We loved the tape in more ways than one, and we all quieted down for the dinner bell, and then we all left feeling VERY good from the entire evening.
First foggy, then lenticular island-shadow, then CLEAR island with fog- swatches, then parti-fogged island, and back and TOTALLY fogged island from 5:50 to 6:50 am. Water started STILL as far as I could see, then wind and ripples and fog come from left to right, and then the fog began to drift in also from the right and the "inner moat" area went from still to left-coming ripple to still. Colors went from the total gray to blue gray to a touch of pink in the east and---as usual---back to gray before it went back to pink again. Odd "headlight" effect behind left and moving to center of island. Hear vague ripples from stream and a few bird-cries, but what SEEMED to be a string of geese flying SOUTH produced all sorts of illusions in my eyes of flocks flying upward in the window-area. Also illusions of bits of BLUE, as of sky through VERY low-lying fog. Heater, warm against my calves, but I can feel the coolness of the room against the back of my warm sweater. Colors: yellow of leaves, green of hemlocks, GRADUALLY come distinct, bit of pink "separates" from blues. Sounds again: voice from next door, car in far distance, some doors slamming in Minnowbrook. Island TOTALLY gone at 6:55 and my eyes conjure shadows everywhere in gray obscurity. A few birds fly past, a few fog-ripples over the water, the refrigerator goes on and off with a louder or a lower burr, and I keep wondering when John will get up and destroy the reverie, but it's QUITE light enough to read anything now. Pieces of island begin to reemerge in imagination before it does in reality. [Imaginary quote from yesterday: "Yes, I DID ask him and ask him, but I get tired of BEGGING for the information that I thought was mine by right of HIS supposed love (and sharing) for ME."] Sounds that I would LIKE to make into distant motorboats. Motes fly about in eyes, specks on windowpanes become hyperactive as my eyes search for details and motion. Frost VISIBLY forming on the edges of the boat shed roof before me. More cars' sounds in the distance---feet cold UNDER heater but shins warm above it. Dark forms swirl in coming fog, blue/pink flecks appear more hectically in the sky-area as I WANT fog to clear. Keep looking for where I FIGURE first REFLECTED sunlight will be, from distant hillside to far right. Fog keeps changing in thickness and closeness---tree on left comes in and out of focus. John sighs---obviously awake---at 7:01 am. Fog swirls VERY fast from Minnowbrook area, John up at 7:04, brightest area AGAIN to left of island, things moving VERY fast, he goes to john, still not talking. FAR LEFT tree horizon clears for an instant, NEXT door to hall opens and closes, and light DOES come first from left. John showers, "visions" of blue become more distinct, but it DOES seem that it's foggier LATER this AM. Now there's a reflection of left-light in water, more people moving about, and at 7:09 the middle of the island emerges again from its enveloping haze. And two women appear on beach, one with camera---Jo and Jan taking pictures before they LEAVE. HUGE fog-swirls AWAY from shore as sunrise appears also to sway fog from left to right, and at 7:13 there's a view of cloud-lines ABOVE line of trees at isle-top. Isle is momentarily visible, then it clouds in again. GRAND motions. Left of isle is lovely in silhouette, Jo WAITS for a picture, but at 7:17 it's STILL mostly fog. John says it's different every morning, last two had no fog at all, and he wants to order about twenty topographical maps of the area! Island totally vanishes again at 7:23. Sounds like two people from next door leave and stand on beach, but I sure can't figure WHY and guess it must be someone ELSE. "Area" quite generally pink, maybe bluest AT Blue Mountain, in EAST, but hiding the sun that'll shine first in the WEST. At 7:33, for only the second time I recall, a fish leaps and makes a distant circle of splash. ONE duck flaps east and I get the idea that the sky above the fog IS blue. FINALLY at 8:05 (after I pack and as four ducks swim across) the right-most sunlit hills come out of fog, as do some sunlit treetips ON island, but LEFTMOST, formerly clearest, is totally enveloped in fog. Cute 12-year-old rakes beach, budding buttocks tight in loose jeans, and older fellow slips a hammer into his waist strap. At 8:10 I decide I'm NOW showering, others gather on dock and take pictures, John returns at 8:13 and stares about, and I take final notes, feeling good to have gotten to side 7 of my double-folded double sheets, and STILL the fog is quite thick. Thicker between here and Watersedge than it EVER was. Frost in ALL gone, though sun has NOT been out. Sounds of invisible geese float down and island almost totally vanishes for the 8th time at 8:18. Guy's raked the beach, that looks neat, and John's out again as I write this. 9:15, still wisps of FOG!