M, J, A, and I had a cool, cozy, and companionable breakfast time reading the New York Times. I don't get to read the Book Review as thoroughly as I would generally like to. On the other hand, my list of books to read gets quite long and I will never make it through that growing list before I die. There's a review of a new biography of Charles deGaulle that is allegedly a page-turner ... a 707-page book about deGaulle? Well, I can at least check it out when I finish the mammoth Edith Wharton biography (that will be a while as I am only reading about 5 pages a day) ... and then there is the Proust volume half-finished.
So, a cold-ish day. I was in a complete napping mood, but M and J's neighbors had invited them down for a barbecue. I was invited and, after some persuasion by E, who came back to the house and specifically asked me to come down, I agreed to make an appearance. I wasn't feeling very outgoing or emotionally secure/stable, so I wasn't sure if I could be social. But I did and I could. The folks were very nice and within a few minutes, and half a glass of wine, I was quite comfortable. Two yellow jackets drowned in my glass of wine. Is that supposed to be good luck?
The moral of this story which none of you are allowed to ever repeat to me is that sometimes it is a good idea to calm down a moment, revisit a decision, and perhaps put yourself out there a bit. I will deny I ever said this.
Off to Brooklyn again tomorrow. I was supposed to go today but I did chores and went to the barbecue instead. Emmy will help throughout the week as she did on Friday. There is some discussion of seeing if she would fit in here in Brewster, which would make me very happy or at the very least cheer me up considerably (happiness and I are quite estranged at the moment). Cooder, not so much. But the house is big enough, although there is only one me.