Quote of the Day: "As a great natural feature the Merrimack, it is believed, surpasses all others in the harmonious blending of the useful and the beautiful." - The Merrimack River: Its Source and Tributaries, J.W. Meader, B.B. Russell, Boston, 1871

Journal of a Sabbatical

November 30, 1998

new and improved monuments

Lately getting up in the morning has felt like surfacing from deep in the ocean - and not quite making it. I feel like I am swimming along half underwater. The cold is still hanging on a little, mostly in my sinuses, and the short November days make me sleepy. Add gray skies and fog to that and you've got one sleepwalker.

Nevertheless, I mailed some bills and Providence parking tickets at the post office, dropped off a roll of film at Andover Photo and met Kate for coffee at Starbucks. She managed to stake out the comfy purple chairs so we settled in for the long haul. It's so easy to just sit there and sip coffee and watch sport utility vehicles back into sedans repeatedly on Main Street all day. But even two grande lattes and a spectacularly bad sport utility vehicle driver to watch can't overcome hunger and the need to get the newsletter done.

I invited Kate to go with me to the cat shelter to drop off the newsletter for copying and to meet Jaguar. I kept looking right past Jaguar. I looked in all his usual spots with no luck. I even looked in the food room. I introduced Kate to Alexis and Chantal. I searched the laundry room. Finally, Kate asked how many white cats are there here. "Only Jaguar", I replied. She pointed out that he'd been right in front of me curled up in a bed on the cat gym the whole time. Clearly I am not awake yet despite its being 2:00 PM!

My search for Jaguar hidden in plain sight prolonged our stay past the point that Kate's allergies could tolerate. And we still hadn't had lunch. Newburyport seemed like a good choice for finding both a drugstore and lunch.

I must have walked past Angie's diner dozens of times, but I've never eaten there until today. At long last I have found the spinach and feta omelet I've been dreaming of ever since Ford's Coffee Shop closed! I savored my spinach and feta cheese while Kate feasted on French toast and sausages and nursed her allergy attack.

Fortified with an excellent lunch or a late breakfast, whatever you want to call it. We visited a children's clothing store in search of something pretty and femme for Kate's niece. I couldn't stand the store. I felt cooped up by how close together the racks were and how cloyingly sweet the clothing was, so I wandered off while Kate shopped. Success was not to be had, however, unless she wanted to dress her niece like a cheap hooker. Who buys these things and why? And is society better off or worse off for having three year olds dressed like hookers?

Our visit to Olde Port Bookstore was much more satisfying. I'd been wanting to browse there again since Nancy and I got kicked out at closing time the last time I visited. They have one of our cats from the shelter so it seemed like a family kind of thing. For eons now I've been looking for Bobbsey Twins number 53. Andrea read about it in a Baby-sitter's Club book and was curious. As the Bobbsey Twins are basically out of print except for three abridged, denatured, cinchy titles, I was unsuccessful in meeting this demand when it was issued. I've kept it in the back of my mind whenever I visit a used bookstore ever since. At last, today we found plenty of Bobbsey Twins, though alas not number 53. I bought The Bobbsey Twins at Meadow Brook 1915 edition and numbers 2, 3, and 4 from 1950: The Bobbsey Twins in the Country, The Bobbsey Twins at the Seashore, and The Bobbsey Twins at School.

Could I resist buying something expensive for myself after all this? No way, I'd browsed J.W. Meader's The Merrimack River: Its Source and Tributaries from 1871 on previous visits and have craved it ever since. There was another volume about the Merrimack by Pliny something that was even more expensive, but I didn't see it this time. The Meader book is fascinating. Lowell was a prosperous mill city back then. In fact Meader talks about how the waterpower from the Merrimack "has made the Merrimack Valley and other portions of New England the manufactory of the Western World". Disappointingly, the entire section on Plum Island is a direct quote of Thoreau's entire description of Plum Island from A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers. I was hoping for another 19th century viewpoint. The best part of this book is the last chapter, particularly the conclusion, which plays off Tennyson's song of the brook. Meader is eerily prescient about the future of Lowell:

In ages yet to come, when other hands shall direct its power in the artificial channels of usefulness to mankind, other eyes shall see its marvelous beauty, and other tongues relate its story. In another age new and improved monuments may be reared, still testifying to its service and its power, long after the chains which now bind it to the wheels of monster cotton mills are rusted and decayed and become relics of the past, or the antiquarian may rescue from the debris of its present glory vestiges of the history of its former but fallen grandeur.

If you build a National Park they will come...

With my wallet lighter and my shopping bag heavier, I drove Kate back to her car at my place and took off for Petsmart to get Feline Maintenance Light for the demented orange wacko I live with and headed back up to Salisbury for a Purrfect Companions meeting at the cat shelter. The fog was closing in on Salisbury and the marsh looked and smelled much as it must have in 1871.

Jaguar spent the whole meeting stretched out on the conference table, purring and rubbing and having a grand old time. At one point, Samantha, who rarely comes out of her cage jumped up on the table and began to sniff a leather purse belonging to one of the volunteers. She even rubbed up against the volunteer's hand. It was a cozy meeting and we were done in an hour.

On the way home, the marsh was totally socked in with fog and looked and smelled much as it must have in 1871.