Weddigs and such

Above, Charlotte, a reporter for a major magazine, in London for THE wedding. In the second photo, there is a faint image of Charlotte, taking the photo, in the window. Wow, good for her! Charlotte is the daughter of our fantastic web master, and I have heard about Charlotte since she was a small precocious child. A perk of friendships, sharing family news.

Dear Friends and Family,

In my slow-reading way (bathroom only), I completed a long work by Jonathan Franzen, “Robinson Crusoe and the Art of Solitude,” about the novel in general, and about the suicide of a beloved friend, as well as the solitude of being alone on a rough island for days. Having experienced the death by suicide of a dearly beloved friend, I could relate to Franzen's sorrow and anger. I was disappointed though, that among the Crusoe imitators and admirers he discussed he didn't mention the character in Wilkie Collins' novel The Moonstone who whenever he needed advice and comfort opened at random Robinson Crusoe and always found comfort and the right advice. Merwin and I listened to this novel on Talking Books, and the actor who played this character was just wonderful. I went to The New Yorker website to see if I could send an email to Franzen, but, no, only tweets! which we don't do. Sigh.

I overate on Thursday night and made myself sick. So I had to go to bed and missed Rick's arrival. Bad me. Why do I do that? Overeating has been a problem in my life forever, but when I start losing weight, I really go into high gear; when I went down below 114 the other day I pushed myself up above 117, which is a tad too much. 115 is the goal.

Merwin has had a pretty good few days. His radiation has been faster, at the speed, in fact, he was promised: 20 minutes from sign-in to exit. That helps him a lot. With Rick's assistance, he returned the art work to the wall above the new flat TV. The wall looks a lot better. The TV does not look as intrusive with Vaughan's wonderful photo of the Sinai, and the other work, an original print by Chagall, which we won as a door prize at a very ritzy affair.

Friday was a good day: I spent time with Rick in the morning, retreating to my room when I got tired, as I do after intense conversations. After he left, Laury came for a while, just for a visit, and we chatted about our Macbeth reviews. She read my BAM review and liked it. She doesn't want to read my TFANA review yet because she is writing one herself. She has a different angle than I did (I had no angle): she saw a preview performance as well as a performance after it opened and can compare the two. Also, she has heard Arin Arbus, the director, talk about the production and others (at that one-day Shakespeare conference in NY that I could not attend) and can weave that into her review. Wow, does she work hard, a very full teaching schedule and many responsibilities at her college, plus her family, plus her scholarly work. Amazing woman, and she helps to keep me going.

In the evening, we went to our synagogue for a dinner, and it was great to be greeted so warmly by many people that I know there. I lasted only 90 minutes, and had to slip out with Merwin. I went straight to bed afterward.

In between, I was working on hamletworks.org, for which there is always more to do. It is my pleasure to add to it, bit by bit. And I heard from SQ; for my “At Sea" essay, they want a few more edits plus other things, by next Tuesday! Oh my.

Love to all,
Bernice

Rain and Sun

I think I did not post this photo, taken last week. These are Harvey's three daughters, Michelle and Rachael, the 25-year-old twins. And Laura, 22 months older! We are so proud of them all.


Dear friends and family,

Family, friends, music, work I love, nature burgeoning all around me—what more could anyone want? I want no more. I hear of other people's travels, and I do not envy them. I remember the travels we enjoyed over the years and am happy to say "Dianu," enough. We were iChatting with Michèle and Raymond this afternoon and recollecting our experiences in Greece, so many years ago, but quite fresh in our minds. They are going to be going there next Wednesday, for the first time. We went in February, when the weather was perfect and the almond trees were blooming—and we rarely came across a tourist.

Yesterday I have a lovely lunch at my favorite restaurant these days, Kiraku, a short walk from our house, with my oldest Long Island friend, Dottie. She doesn't drive anymore, so I picked her up, going to the old neighborhood about a mile away where we had lived from 1954-1959 and where she still lives. She had young children, we had young children (Arthur was born soon after we arrived), and our backyards had no barriers to keep the kids apart. It's wonderful to be with someone who knew my parents. And of course, I knew hers—and the rest of her family. I remember that her brother introduced us to watercress, which he would pick himself from local ponds. It was a great place for little children, with an enormous field a few steps away, and the beach very close too. Dottie and I reminisced and of course caught up on our children and grandchildren—and in her case great grandchildren.

Today was Sonia's day, and we did something different—beside the wash and the drying and bed making, plus the apple compote and the oatmeal, we went out shopping together. This saves Merwin from this chore; he is tired when he gets home from his radiation. He eats lunch and takes a nap, and today he does not have the shopping hanging over him. I got pasta, which Sonia made for me when we returned. Together we made eggplant, zucchini, onion, and garlic, all chopped in the Cuisinart and sauteed with peanut oil until tender and well blended. This will be a topping for the noodles for supper tonight. Tastes good. She does so much for me very efficiently: how will I do without her? I will have to manage, perhaps by adding another hour or two to Margaret's day if she can manage that. But that will hardly be the same.

Toby came to visit this afternoon, having taught her monthly autobiography course for seniors at NCC. We chatted and caught up with the news. After lots of rain and wind, by the time she left the sun was shining. I can see the first young leaves of the dogwood in my window, the tops of the forsythia which is still in bloom, and many green and red leaves all over. Maybe Merwin and I will go for a walk soon and see what else is blooming.

But right now I am ready for a rest.

Love to all,
Bernice

Waking up with a smile

This is Catherine Deneuve in Potiche, a movie we saw last night In Roslyn with our free tickets. If you click on the photo it probably won't get much bigger because this comes from Imdb.

Dear friends and family,

I woke up with a smile on Monday, thinking of the Passover rolls I would make, and at the same time, taking advantage of the oven's heat, my mother's "doctored" gefülte fish—not as good as the real thing but better than what comes straight from the jar. Make a court bouillon with about 2 cups of water, a carrot, and good sized piece of onion, a celery stalk with leaves if possible, a spoonful of sugar and one of salt, plus pepper. Simmer the mix on top of the stove until the carrot is soft. In the meantime, empty a jar of the gefilte fish and rinse off the pieces to remove some of the salt. Place the six pieces in pie pan, pour court bouillon over it, and bake for an hour or more. Turn over the pieces when they are slightly brown on top. I baked them at 475, the temp for the rolls, and they actually took longer than the rolls to brown a little on both sides.

After the kitchen work, including making breakfast for Merwin at the same time, I was tired, but I am trying not to give in. I need to soldier on. My inability to rise from a seated position, especially late in the day, is more of a problem. Monday, I did a turn on the bicycle, something I want to do every day that Sonia is not here—and those days will be many, because Sonia gave notice yesterday. She will stay with me only till a week from tomorrow. She knows I still need help, but she has opportunities for better positions (more hours, more days) closer to her home. I am so sad. I look forward to her help with cooking and especially with my exercises, where she provides the resistance or whatever help I need for balance. I knew it could not last forever, but I am the kind of person who never wants to let people disappear from my life: I want to hold on to them.

Tuesday is the day we get free tickets to the movies. Merwin had picked out a movie after studying the online reviews, and, because parking was scarce, he dropped me off some way from the theater in Roslyn to get our tickets. But when I entered the theater and saw the listings, I was confused. I thought the movie he wanted was at 7:10 (later I learned he had said ten to seven, plus naming the movie). So I picked Potiche, a French movie, which was up a steep flight of stairs. Merwin's compressed lips showed his displeasure when he joined me, but he only wondered at my—shall we be kind and say "absent mindedness"? I explained that the attendant had said that Water for Elephants, his actual choice, had gotten bad reviews, but people exiting from it liked it and that people had liked Potiche, which had gotten good reviews.

It's a movie from 2010. We liked it a lot because it was fun to see the stars, Catherine Deneuve and Gérard Depardieu, both of whom we have seen from the beginning of their brilliant careers. The story itself was a bit unbelievable, but funny, with some interesting twists. When it was time to go, I struggled to stand. A woman next to Merwin asked if I needed help, but I said I would continue to try before asking for help. I did make it to my feet. After we exited, Merwin left me sitting on a bench while he got the car, a distance away, and then we went to an Italian restaurant to break the Passover "fast." He had pizza, and I had a wonderful pasta dish, of which I could eat about one quarter. No cooking today! When it was time to stand up, I was having trouble. A woman who had been sitting a few tables away from us (she was the last person there beside us) asked if I needed help. I said, "I think so," and she dashed right over, explaining that she was a doctor who worked with physical disabilities, and lifted me in one easy motion. Merwin, behind our table near the wall, had not been able to move fast enough to get to me. It is really wonderful—the kindness of strangers. This young doctor cooed over me like a mother, telling me I was beautiful! Being the font of such warmth and care, I still hope this new development is temporary and that more exercise will change the situation.

I have been having fun with hamletworks.org. I heard from AD, an eminent Shakespearean who had a query about the work of RC, an eminent theater practitioner and scholar, and eventually I had email correspondence with both. Neither knew about our website. Why is it so hard to get the word out? A big disappointment was a Shakespeare Quarterly review of sites specific to Hamlet, which did not mention our site. This is especially disturbing because Eric, one of our team members, is on the board of SQ. Surely he knew about this essay as it was making its way through the SQ process? Oh well, I cannot waste too much time on regrets, slights, and hurts. I want to keep that smile on my face. Anyway, the four-way conversation about the age of Hamlet that I had, with AD, RC, and my fellow editor Nick Clary, was very good for my spirits. And I heard from JR as well, who sent me the horrible pages that he had laboriously copied, from the Middleton so-called Macbeth, really poor stuff! But I feel obliged to know something about it for my work on Shakespeare's Macbeth. He is so good to do this for me. I get a lot of help from my friends.

Also, Harvey sent DVDs of my talk at the NYPL, and reluctantly I agreed to see it with Merwin. I knew that I had left out some important details. So we watched a bit and though, yes, I had missed saying some things I had wanted to say, it was really all right. When Harvey set up his video equipment, he was told that he had to promise to keep the result in the family. The NYPL has ownership of the talk, which they recorded on tape, I guess.

Also good was the fact that, with Sonia, I drove the couple of miles to our local beach, and she and I took the Sycamore walk, as Merwin and I call it. On one side we have Hempstead Harbor, on the other the trees, still bare of leaves. Lots of people like this walk, so we were sure to see a few dog walkers, strollers, and runners. I made it all the way to the end and more—up the street to show Sonia a great house that overlooks the water. Then we sat on a bench at the end for a while and watched the multitude of ducks, all in a row, and the gulls. It was low tide, a good time for pickings. Sonia is a great person to walk with, first because she is watchful, always within arm's length so she can help me if I need help, and more importantly because she enjoyed the walking there very much. It's nice when what Merwin and I like is also appreciated by others.

Planning a good day! Getting a bagel out of the freezer for Merwin for his snack.

Love,
Bernice

Passover Woes

This is recent photo of Amy, Vaughan and Marisa: aren't they gorgeous! The occasion was a birthday celebration.

Dear Friends and Family,

Happy Easter to our friends who celebrate that holiday. Happy Passover to those still working through the 8 days, actually 9, meal-wise, because it started at sundown on Monday and does not end until Sundown on Tues. I am tired of the opportunities for innovation that the holiday offers. People could certainly eat normally if they wished, without breaking the Passover restrictions. In other incarnations, when I was a member of Overeaters Anonymous, I could eat well, as usual, during Passover because I did not eat anything but fresh vegetables and fish.

For some reason, this Passover I have had the urge to try new recipes. I made the leek gratin with Passover cottage cheese instead of Gruyere. Pretty good. The leeks and potato are good, and the cheese did no harm. I tried Sylvia's noodles, and they were a complete bust, thick and far from tender. Hers were delicious when I last tasted them. I tried mixing them with sautéed mushrooms. Didn't help. Merwin complains about the borscht in a jar that there aren't enough shredded beets. I tried to make up my own version, failing a good recipe to follow. The beets came out all right, but the liquid did not taste like borscht. Basically, he had wet shredded beets with sour cream. Ugh. Another failure.Though he did like it some.

This morning I made spinach pancakes, something good at all seasons: pre-washed fresh spinach, washed at home thoroughly, spun dry-ish, torn into small pieces. Beat in eggs so that every leaf glistens and you don't see plain yoke. Don't worry if there is egg at the bottom of the mixing bowl; when you fry the spinach in pancakes, you can spoon some of the egg from the bottom of the bowl on top of each pancake. This makes a very egg-y pancake. They can be eaten for breakfast (Passover cereal is not available in our supermarkets; in some neighborhoods everything is available) with sour cream or plain. Cold, the extra pancakes make an excellent sandwich. I still have 3 Passover rolls, only because Vivian brought over 4 of Mel's rolls, made from my recipe. His came out much better than mine this year. They are delicious whenever, and I plan to make more tomorrow, or later today: the trouble is, that even sitting on my stool, I get tired from the effort. I must not just lie around, though. I know that ultimately that makes things worse, no matter how much the bed beckons. I am missing Sonia, who came only once last week. She certainly keeps me going.

We went to a Strauss opera yesterday, Capriccio. This was, as my friend Florence said afterward, "Much ago about nothing." Of course, Renée Fleming was brilliant, beautiful, but she had a hard job varying her expression—and of course in HD the expressions are prominent. She managed well, but we are going to cross this opera off our list. The wonder is that Strauss wrote this for a performance in 1942—in Germany. In the pre-opera talk, a little mention was made about the reasons he remained in Germany when Hitler was in power, and the fact that the content of this opera was not what the State required then of most artists; they had to celebrate the German nation. The basic story, in case you don't know, repeated beyond patience argues which is superior words or music? The Countess (Fleming) has to choose between the two men who represent words and music. First, we see that music can enhance words, and then we learn that without the impresario to put this all together, neither can shine. In between there was the de rigour ballet, which was played for comedy, and an Italian couple who sang—and ate. And there was more but not much. Very repetitious.

The good thing is that I was able to manage the 2 hour and 15 minute opera (plus waiting time before, more than another hour) without having to raise my feet. I didn't know that there would be no intermission, and we had to sneak the sandwiches I had prepared, tuna fish for me, a hamburger for Merwin, on Mel's rolls. It turned out to be enough for us so that we wanted no dinner! We watched UP, a movie I had seen a little bit of in a very poor version on the hospital TV. A bit silly, but moving, too.

The Magnolia is fading, the cherry tree is lovely, the Forsythia remains strong, the tulips are burgeoning, and there are many ground flowers. This is all in our small front yard. It's even warm today!

Lots of love to all,

Bernice

Merwin's Turn

We keep in close touch with our dear friends Michèle and Raymond by email and in the marvel of computer conferencing via Apple’s iChat. Their English is remarkably fluent with only a trace of English accent. This week they have had the pleasure of having their eight-year-old grandson Paul as their special guest while his older sisters, who are swimmers, are engaged in an intensive swimming program in Barcelona. Our friends are both retired Shakespeare professors and live in a northern suburb of Rouen called Mont Saint Aignan where we have had memorable visits. On Thursday they headed directly north to the city of Dieppe on the Normandy coast. The second picture shows Paul and his grand-mère Michèle relaxing on the marvelously pebbled beach at Dieppe. This is on the English Channel directly across from England The first picture shows an exuberant Paul as he is allowed to control the boat they were on cruising the harbor. I have not yet heard all the details of their excursion but look forward to hearing about Paul’s captaincy.

In 1963 when son Lincoln was 3 and Harvey and Arthur were 10 and 9 we were vacationing in the Adirondacks in New York State and wanted to reach Vermont to East. We bordered a ferry to cross the 14-mile wide Lake Champlain and all went up to an observation deck to enjoy the view. The older boys soon left us to explore while we were happy to relax with our young son. Suddenly, we were startled by the boat lurching first to the right and then to left. Bernice and I knew immediately that our boys were involved, most likely irrepressible son Arthur. I made my way to bridge area wondering how this had happened. Before I reached the bridge I encountered a door with the clear warning: “No Passengers Beyond This Point.” As the boys evidently did, I went through the door and made my way to the bridge where Harvey was broadly smiling, hands on the wheel, confidently in control. It was Arthur who surprised the Captain with his aggressive test of the steering. The Captain was very generous and was impressed with how much the boys knew. He told me they would be fine and could stay during the crossing but would be sent down well before the dock was reached. You can see how the picture of young Paul at the boat controls evoked this memory.

We are having a reluctant spring in Glen Head for, although daffodils have appeared and tulips will soon be in blossom, low temperatures have persisted. There are many trees in wonderful bloom and our front yard has many flowers in spite of the coolness. Today the temperature struggled to get to 45 F. To me, a significant harbinger of this vernal season is the wakening of our pond goldfish who have been hibernating through the harsh winter buried deeply in bottom mud of the pond. The pond vegetation is showing sprouting green but no goldfish had yet appeared as Passover began. Giving up hope and saddened by their suspected death I purchased ten little goldfish into the pond. They seemed happy and frolicked as goldfish sometimes do. The next day I spotted only two and then there were none. I was miserable picturing some night marauder like a raccoon or early morning heron eating the whole school in one fell swoop.

But hope emerged when I went to the pond with son Dave and spotted a tiny glint of gold at the bottom of the pond. It was a live fish burrowing further into the mud. Then we spotted another who headed for shelter in the emerging vegetation. Dave told be I was too impatient. Others have told me the same thing. I hope it warms up a bit and more fish appear.

Happy remaining Pesach to all and a Happy Easter also,

Merwin

Long time no see

Two of our grandchildren, twins Michelle and Rachael. We saw all three of Harvey and Sandy's girls at the Passover Seder. The twins live in NYC, both working at their professions, design and cinematography, respectively. We are glad to see them as often as they take time off from their many activities.

Dear Friends and Family,

My goodness, it's been many days since I have written, and I am sure you understand that unwritten means not remembered! My blog is my memory!

My calendar is no help: no engagements on the 15th-17th, so I expect I was doing the usual, working on Shakespeare, going for rides with Merwin, walking a little, resting a lot, cooking this and that. Merwin started his daily radiation on the 13th and that has taken out a chunk of our day. Meals are a little strange because he wants his main meal when he returns, and that can be as late as 3 p.m. His appointment is at 1:30, but they can't always take him on the minute, and sometimes unforeseen incidents occur to delay his treatment, which takes only a few minutes. Since I am too hungry to wait for him, I snack continually from the time of my usual lunch till he returns home. Then our light supper is very late for us, sometimes after 8 p.m. Today he'll be home earlier, but neither of us wanted a real supper tonight.

On Monday, Dave drove us, after the radiation, to Harvey and Sandy's for their lovely traditional Seder. Lots of interesting people were there, and I had a chance to be with the three granddaughters at once. They are very sweet and loving; they console for the total absence in our lives of Arthur's two children since his divorce.

For the Seder,I made Charses as usual, but Sandy said I should make only one kind, which I did: Here is what I did:

Blend in Cuisinart:

3 peeled and cored apples

1/4 lb dried apricots (I didn't have this and so omitted it)

1/4 lb dried prunes

1 seedless orange: peel rind off carefully and add to processor, remove pith and discard; add rest of orange to processor

3 T sweet wine

Then nuts, more or less to taste; I used less this time

1/4 lb pecan halves

1/2 lb walnuts halves

Can use almonds also, or instead. The recipe also calls for cinnamon to taste, but I didn’t think it needed it because my big orange supplied a lot of zest: I have a great tool for removing only the zest easily (the outer skin above the bitter white part)

I ate so much of Sandy's good food. She served me 5 matzoh balls,! and I ate every one (plus all kinds of other goodies). We had a wonderful Seder there, and I was even able to sing my solo piece with my voice breaking only a couple of times. A real singer, Sandy's cousin, was among the group, and she could really belt out the songs. A pleasure. Sandy's father Murray, sister Barbara, and brother Lawrence were there. It was the first Seder without Lee, Sandy's mother,, and we all missed her.

We three drove home right after dinner, before dessert. After two days of Passover, I am so tired of this food. Sonia helped me make rolls, I made my own matzoh balls, and I made chicken for Merwin. I'll write out the recipes tomorrow, when I am going to try a gratin. We'll see.

Love to all,

Bernice

Moving right along

The top photo is of Jesús and me, shortly before Merwin took him to the airport, and the bottom photo is one Jesús wanted to take to show his son Pau because of the flat-screen TV, somewhat smaller than their new flat-screen. Note that there are no wires showing, and the box is tucked out of sight on a shelf—all this Dave's handiwork with Merwin's help. This 32" screen replaces our 10" TV, which we couldn't hear if moved away from the table. I am a news junky. On the table is a pan of baby bok choy, so delicious.

Dear Friends and Family,

Wednesday, life went on with lots to do. The main thing was providing meals, Merwin going for his first radiation treatment after a couple of preliminary sessions, working a little with Jesús who was steadily engaged in improving his Modernized Hamlet, and finally going with Laury to see a Macbeth at BAM. I am reviewing this play for The Shakespeare Newsletter, something that is going to be hard to do because I disliked it so much. But at least it helps me to see even more clearly why the TFANA version is so good. I hope to wrap up that review this weekend. But I also have to review my Who Hears essay for Laury's book.

Jesús certainly perseverates, but I think I helped him to simplify the display of his text on the site. Check it out. Go to The Enfolded Hamlet on hamletworks.org, pull down the display box, and you will see Modernized Hamlet. Open it. The numbers at the left are hot and will lead you to notes. A little T next to that number means that Jesús recommends that you look at those notes especially. What a great job he is doing.

The sad thing about going to BAM was that I needed so much help, but I find myself dealing with that pretty well. Laury drives me right to the door. She carries my pillow for me to sit on. She cossets and cares for me. I asked an usher to let me take his arm to get to my seat. If you have ever been to BAM's Harvey Theater, you will know how steep are the steps down into the orchestra, where there is no railing. A worse problem is that after sitting for 2 1/2 hours with no intermission, I could not lift myself off the seat. An usher came to help me. It's rather worrisome to be so weak. It happens only when I have sat for a long time. But I must do something about my strength.

Today, Sonia came. I missed her because I couldn't have her on Tuesday (the NYPL day). First we went for a very long walk, the longest yet. I bet it was 1/4 mile, maybe more, hilly too. Then mostly she helped me prepare stuff for our meals today. I made the potato leek gratin that I had expected to make for Jesús but just couldn't get enough energy to execute. I also made my mother's carrot, turnip and mayo salad. Sonia is so cute because she likes learning new dishes from me. She loved the salad.

Otherwise, a quiet day, mostly resting.

Love to all,
Bernice

Above is Jay Barksdale, the fantastic NYPL librarian who, among his other duties, shepherds the scholars and writers in the Wertheim and Allan study rooms, introducing me at the big event. He has been wonderful to me, amazingly helpful. Below I am energized talking about the website that means so much to me.

Dear Friends and Family,

I am coming down from a wonderful day. The best thing is that I met the challenge and had the energy to talk about the website and show everyone who was there what it is about. I have only done that once before, through Skype, when I was explaining to a grad student working for us what he needed to know.

I cannot count the friends who were in the audience because there were so many, maybe 30 of the almost 100 people in the audience, and many of our friends came back to our apartment, where we had sweets, cheeses, crackers and chips + wine and soda. The studio held everyone with some corners unoccupied. So it did not feel crowded; it just felt nice. It was warm and great. Harvey took a video of the whole hour of my talk, and he will give me a DVD next week when we are there for Passover.

When I woke up this morning and opened the shades, I saw that the Magnolia is still showing its flowers; the cold and pouring rain of yesterday and during the night have not blasted it. One April, we had a true freeze, and the flowers went. That was the year my father died, making April doubly the cruelest month.

I am going to close now because Jesús is in the kitchen, and he is leaving today. Tonight I will be going to see another Macbeth at BAM. I will write more in the next few days.

Love to all,
Bernice

The Life and Death of a Succulent Flower

Click on an image to enlarge and then click back arrow to return to blog.

Friends,

Dear Bernice is very occupied with preparation for her Tuesday talk as well with many literary deadlines so I have this opportunity to briefly take over her blog.

Bernice recently featured some pictures of a little succulent plant she received as a gift about five years ago and which has led a very passive and unassuming existence on our kitchen window sill ever since. I am not very systematic nor faithful in my plant watering duties but this plant survived my casual care nonetheless but never showed any signs of growth in its confined little pot. That is, until about three weeks ago when I noticed a fast growing stalk thrusting itself upwards covered with a spray of incipient flowers. My attention was riveted to this display and my thoughts were stimulated by musings of the marvelous variety in which plants propagate. Each day I watched with interest and pleasure to see just what kind of flower would emerge.

A great deal can be deduced from seeing a plant’s flowers. In the wild, I assume that our plant grows for years with a low profile, probably nestled among similar neighbors, and suddenly one Spring it thrusts this fast-growing stem high over its fellows and from this height beckons to potential pollinators. Plants can be termed generalists or specialists in the strategies they employ in using their flowers to distribute their pollen so it successfully reaches other flowers of their own species. The generalists include those carefree types depending on the wind to somehow find a mate (much to the displeasure of hay fever sufferers) and also the free-for-all types like magnolias and forsythias that hope that any insect or bird visiting their flowers will transport its pollen to an appropriate species mate. The most notable generalist pollinator is the bee, known for its proverbial industry and able to direct its hive members to literally blanket a stand of flowering plants. So efficient and necessary are bees to modern agriculture that beekeepers bring their hives to orchards and stands of trees such as the almond to assure successful pollination. Before man’s invention of agriculture and its intense concentration of identical flowers, bees never had it so good. In recent years Colony Collapse Disorder has destroyed large number of hives but there seems to be recent progress in finding a cure.

The specialists have formed a partnership to increase the odds of a successful pollen delivery. The evidence of our plant’s flowers is that it is such a specialist that has forged a very long-term relationship with a particular pollinator. Such relationships are formed over millions of years through the wonder of coevolution. The beaks of certain hummingbirds and the tongues of certain moths and butterflies exquisitely match the contours of the flowers they visit to obtain nectar. Such matches are often so extreme that the pollinator makes exclusive visits to the flowers of their partner. Darwin, who wrote about coevolution, once famously observed a flower during one of his travels in the tropics that had a very long, narrow passage to its nectar treasure and he stated that there was undoubtedly a single pollinator that visited this plant. Forty years later a moth was found whose long tongue exactly matched the flower’s entry tunnel. This arrangement has benefits for both partners. The lock and key match assures the plant that its pollen will be delivered to its own species and not be frittered away at foreign flowers. The pollinators can be assured of a plentiful nectar supply not available to its competitors.

These long lasting partnerships are generally very stable unless something extraordinary happens to one of the partners. A famous instance of the shattering of such a symbiotic relationship involves the destruction of every last Dodo bird on the island of Mauritus. This small isolated island is off the east coast of Madagascar which is, in turn, off the east coast of Africa. Mauritus was evidently isolated for millions of years during which unique plants and animals evolved. Sailors arrived and found the Dodo bird, a large wingless bird having never experienced any predator and therefore exhibited no fear. The birds were indiscriminately slaughtered for their meat. One hundred years after the Dodos’ extinction it was noticed that no young Calvaria trees (thanks for the name Google) could be found. This is a towering hardwood tree that was slowly going extinct until its relation to the Dodo was discovered. The tree produces very large, hard nuts that the Dodo swallowed and digested only the outer husk and left the seed to grow in its rich excrement. I knew the outlines of this sad episode and thought the tree had also gone extinct but helpful Google again directed to more recent information. The number of viable trees had shrunk to thirteen when wild turkeys were introduced that fulfilled the Dodo’s former mission.

But, back to our little plant. I can only speculate on the identity of the plant’s pollinator. The colorful flowers are probably an attractant to a small flying insect. My own nose detects no fragrance but that might be present to a more attuned and sensitive instrument. The drooping flowers have only a small opening that could permit either a long tongue of a moth or butterfly. Alternately, a troupe of small flying midges might be the desired visitors. Unfortunately, no hints will be forthcoming as its sits on the kitchen window sill.

I thought that the flowers might open but was surprised and saddened to see that the flowers near the base that had first developed, were now shrinking and withering. Look at the lower two flowers in the photo. Our poor little plant had made a valiant effort but has not fully realized it potential. It has given us pleasure.

May we all enjoy the glories of this Spring,

Merwin

I think I may have posted a photo of José Ramón and me before, when he visited us here, but I am thinking of him now. He sent me a beautiful PDF copy of Gary Taylor's notes on his Middleton Macbeth, which will come into play for the chapter Laury and I will be writing, and he wrote that he would soon mail a xerox of the entire Taylor version of the play. What a friend! Thank you, JR.

Dear Friends and Family,

I have already met two of my deadlines, well in advance. I sent in my response to the SQ edits and I sent in edits to Sarah and Nathalie for my chapter of their book on three TV Hamlets. Deadlines loom over me, but when I sit down to deal with the matter it never is as bad as it seems; it's more fun and takes less time than I imagine. I am still working on the TFANA Macbeth, but Laury and I might see it again, if she can get press tickets. She'll write about it for a different journal.

We heard from Dr.M. yesterday. He is bewildered about my bloods, but the good news is that there are no blasts (i.e. no sign of leukemia). He said he would confer with Dr. K, my local Dr. Earlier, I had a diagnosis of p. vera that had morphed into myelo fibrosis. Now it looks like some features of p. vera have returned, something he hasn't seen before. I will need another BMB (bone marrow biopsy), but he agreed I could wait until Thursday, after next week's big events.

I am sitting here swathed in the odor of camphor. Merwin and I both visited our skin doctor for the semi-annual check-up yesterday. She suggested Sarna as a skin cream. I used it this morning. It does have a cooling effect, which seems to help a bit.

Much of our time these last few days has been spent watching the news. Unbelievable doings in DC, with the Republicans bent on hurting the middle class and continuing to advance the agenda of the oil companies, big agriculture, etc. The myth is that helping the rich tickles down to the less rich, the middle class, and finally the poor; this “trickle” is what I call "piss on you." It didn't work last time and won't work this time. I am so mad at David Brooks: how can he blandly accept Ryan's massacre of the middle class? Yesterday's Times had facing columns, the one by Brooks and the other by Krugman, the Nobel Prize-winning economist who said Ryan's plan would be a disaster. It would tank the economy.

I wish I could march! Had the wherewithal to fund campaigns. Had the stamina to sit at a phone and make calls. All I can do is fume.

Lots of love to all in these difficult times for our country.
Bernice

Work is a joy

We are blessed with a plethora of blooms, and as if the multitude of miniature and full-size daffodils, magnolia buds, forsythia, outside, were not enough, we have this valiant this cactus that sits on the kitchen window, thrusting out this flowering branch for the first time since Lore gave it to us many years ago. A good sign.

Dear Friends and Family,

Dr. Mascarhenhas thinks that my passion for work is what is keeping me going. Turns out I was not supposed to see him at all, and I arrived at 5:30 p.m. (for the appointment given to me by the hospital's appointment secretary) after a long clinic day for him. But he and Amy were happy to see us nevertheless. The trial has been delayed, so there was no contract to sign. And looking at my crazy numbers he wasn't sure what he could do for me. But he promised he would do something. He wanted more blood than the usual pre-doctor intake I get there, so his nurse drew 5 whole additional vials. He planned to come back from a meeting he had to attend to look at the bloods in his microscope to try and figure out what's happening. Ah me. At least the low sugar that showed up on Monday when I went for the phlebotomy turned out to be a false alarm. My sugar was fine yesterday.

The amazing thing is that I had worked as much as I could all day and was really tired on the drive to Mt. Sinai, but being there, being encouraged by the interest Dr. M has in me, the pleasure (yes) of the whole experience, I revived. We drove to our apartment, where Ricardo, teh doorman, has saved a parking spot for us right in front of the building (allowed after 7 p.m.), and we bought some chocolates next door for next Tues., tidied up the apartment a little, dusted a little, then walked around to 39th street to go to the fancy kosher restaurant, where I did fine. No pain from neuropathy at all. Rick, my other son, had brought in a case of Trader Joe wine, 6 reds, 6 whites. What a dear.

It's a good thing work is piling up, if work is what is keeping me going. I continue to read through the SQ edits of "At Sea," which mostly convert my style to their style, tightening the prose. But sometimes they have a problem understanding what I mean. The essay is a bit sly, because I don't want to reveal all I know in the present; I want to unfold it as I discovered each aspect. OK, that's going well, and I should meet the deadline of 11 April. Then there is the Macbeth review to finish; Laury thinks it's good to go with additions about the acting. Ideas float around in my mind. I want to finish it before I see another Macbeth next week, at BAM. But then what should come in but a chapter I wrote a couple of years ago about 3 Hallmark Hamlets on TV, and the editors, dear friends, Sarah and Nathalie, want the chapters reviewed and edited by the 15th! Authors can't change much, because the book is all laid out already, but we are just meant to see if there are any little glitches. Then Laury sent the chapter I wrote for her wonderful book, but she assures me I have plenty of time, later in the month, to go over her edits. Oh my! lots to keep me happy, but maybe a tiny bit less stress over deadlines would be good. Then I can get back to my regular work on hamletworks.org.

Looking forward to next Tuesday is an especial joy. I expect to see some of you there, and do come to the apartment to join in the congratulations or commiserations, #32 W. 40th Street, a building with two small green awnings, opposite the path between the NYPL and Bryant Park. Whatever. The talk has given me a lot of opportunities to work with the site, and I am very proud of what we have done with it.

Love to you all,
Bernice

Better days

This is our son Lincoln in one of his many guises. An offshoot of his continuing interest in science fiction and science fiction conventions (where he is an officer) is his passion for dressing up as a member of the Furry Kingdom and participanting in their conventions, parades, visits to nursing homes, etc. He enjoys building his own costumes and travels all over the world to go to conventions. He goes geocaching wherever he travels. Oh, and he is a volunteer EMT and a highly successful engineer. Are we proud? You bet we are.

Dear Friends and Family,

These have been a couple of very good days. What is thrilling to me is that I have been able to push against fatigue and accomplish quite a bit. Laury is a big help in that respect. She wanted to come over with her notes on the TFANA Macbeth, so I worked (and then napped) till her arrival on Saturday afternoon. She thinks my review is good to go with some additions. I did not write much about the actors who played the main roles, and I am afraid I have to say something negative, which I hate to do when I like a production, about Lady Macduff/gentlewoman.

Then on Sunday, we went to a wonderful party celebrating our friends' Meta and Bob's anniversary and her birthday. The food was terrific, and I was able to eat solid food at last! Bob and his friends played a few jazz pieces for us, and that was a special treat. We haven't been able to go to any of Bob's concerts for a long time—too far away, too late in the day. A lot of my friends were there and two babies, and that was fun.

So of course when I got home it was straight to bed. But when I got up I spent a good few hours on the editing of "At Sea." It's going well, and I think I can meet the due date without any trouble. There will be a second edit in about a month, I think. And I am feeling more comfortable about my talk at the NYPL. I have no idea how long it will take and must collar someone who will hear me practice. I have about an hour. And then a party afterward in our pied-à-terre! Wow, what good things to look forward to.

The other things, the phlebotomy I need today, the interview about the new drug trial tomorrow, Merwin's beginning of radiation—all these medical issues we just bear. We are so lucky to have each other—and all of you.

Love,
Bernice

Tooth miseries

The Writing Group, all except Jay. Hedda, Barbara, Golden Kathryn, Meta, me, Toby, Joe, Anna. What delightful folks, what dear friends.

Dear Friends and family,

The last couple of days have been mostly wasted by the tooth extraction. It went well at first, but then not surprisingly, certain features of the recovery were affected by my blood condition. I had to return to the dentist on Thursday and then again today, I hope for the last time. This time, the dentist stitched the wound. Enough of that.

In spite of the visit to the dentist this morning, I went to our monthly First Friday lunch at the Jolly Fisherman. Ilona picked me up, and we had a lovely group of 7. By eating soft foods, I did all right. The nueropathy has certainly diminished. I was able to sit at the table the whole time without having to walk or stretch: this is a first. But afterward, all I wanted to do was sleep, and I have been a lay-about most of the day. I have so much to do! But it will have to wait till I feel better.

Did I mention that Merwin bought a 32" TV for the kitchen to replace the 10" one we had? This has been a father-son activity, with Dave providing the muscle and most of the know-how. It's good to see them working together. Of course, nothing goes smoothly, so the bracket they purchased to put it on the wall did not work and Dave had to fabricate one from scratch. Now we can see and hear the horrible news while we are moving around the kitchen.

Much love to all,
Bernice