Sorry for the lack of posts. Oh, I could blame the spotty internet but honestly it's just too nice out to futz indoors with a keyboard. I'm living the dream. I get up every morning at 7 and run a mile and a quarter to the Wainscott beach with a dumb but lovable springer spaniel named Drake. (As Mei Mei says: "Drake is the dumbest dog in the world.") Then I run for half a hour or so along the beach, passing that lovely house you remember from Eternal Sunshine. (Turns out it's not in Montauk, that house. They filmed the thing in Wainscott.) Then home, another cup of coffee by the pool, looking out over Georgica Pond. The swans with the cute newborn cygnets who file past the dock for stale bread. Then drive Zoe 10 minutes to the Maidstone Club, where she participates in J.A. (junior activities) every morning. Swimming, golf, arts&crafts. Today, even though she got a huge mouthful of water in the pool ("I forgot I was underwater," she explained) she still judged that J.A. and the Maidstone Club are, collectively, "the most awesome thing in the world."
I feel a bit of a happy imposter, mere West Coast Oregon boy out here among all this old New York society and money and such. Damn, it sure is a nice life. (When Belle and I were starting to date, in San Francisco, I saw her grand-dad's name - Stuyvesant - on some piece of letterhead, and I didn't even know how to pronounce it. Like I said: I'm not really from New York.)
I downloaded a free book from Audible (but you have to be an audible member to do that, I'm sure): it's Jim Fusilli's book about The Beach Boys' Pet Sounds [amazon]. Part of that 33 1/3 series, if you know it. It's a pretty good listen. I like that series. (Celine Dion's Let's Talk About Love, for example.)