Fred Dery the funeral home guy brought her ashes out on Tuesday. She's now in a brown plastic box with a label stuck to her, sitting next to what's left of Odd, also in a brown plastic box, on the island between the kitchen and the dining room, behind there lazy susan. Peg's friend Laurie, an artist, arrives tomorrow. Laurie's job, besides photographing cookbooks and photo albums, will be to find/make and decorate a pretty box for Peg and Odd. We will then decide what precious Peg and Odd items we think should be buried with them. So far I have the old sheet music for Now Is The Hour, the song they used to sing to one another when Daddy used to have to go back to Norway a lot years ago, and Peg O'My Heart. I have photos (heavy on the collies). A copy of her first Ethel & Albert script. Wedding pictures. Debating about one of Den hugging Peg (from years ago). I will put in the worry beads she bought in Cairo in 1963. The Etruscan vase she bought in Rome in 1958, and which she broke, twice, and I glued back together twice. A brick she stole from Pompeii, also in 1958. Her favorite book, yet to be chosen, she had so many.
Meanwhile...
A 20 cubic yard dumpster (skip) has arrived, delivered by a woman, who backed the biggest truck you've ever seen, all the way in from the road. I have christened the dumpster with a piece of non skid carpet from the kitchen. I would pull more strips up but I notice a lot of black sticky stuff is left on the parquet flooring now which my flip-flops stick to so--best wait for Outside Bob and some sort of trusty unguent from his magic truck. A Dumpster Party has been organized for next Tuesday: 12 able bodied friends will clear the attic, garage and house proper of All Things Dumpsterish. And I will point and do lunch.
Monday I did two radio interviews about Peg.
Yesterday Terri and Candee my oldest friend in the world (i.e. known the longest) arrived from Connecticut to help empty the new kitchen. There is a new kitchen and an old kitchen here. They meld into one another and look like one, but they are, in our minds, two, and always have been. Goodwill and Salvation Army made out like bandits yesterday. Candee also offered me the best advice so far: get out of here and take a walk, get some air, so we did. I got a horsefly bite.
The Gay Brigade arrived for a Peg Freezer Dinner, which all went according to plan until I learned that their Algerian friend, Ali, is a Muslim and not crazy for pork (fillets on the barbecue) or shrimp (canapes with red cocktail sauce). Some fish was found. And orange juice (no wine either). They went home with a quart size zip-lock full of Peg's costume jewelry, the glitzier the better, much of which they tried on during dinner. They also took 6 huge boxes of books for Lee Library. I love the Gay Brigade.
Outside Bob returned in the evening with a trailer and wife and 5 year old, and took 5 Staples bookcases. His son was at that super-wired stage of the day where bedtime should have been an hour ago, and raced around like the Tasmanian Devil, up and down and on and off everything, with Sheri, his mother saying "Bryce? Now don't touch that--" and Bryce paying no attention. Glad the ashes hadn't been delivered yet.
I made 11 more phone calls to Peg friends who I'm sure don't read the papers, so don't know. I am ringing everyone in her address book who she has marked with a little red heart. When she did this, I don't know, many of these numbers are 'no longer in service' which I imagine means the owners aren't either.
All this was accomplished with no internet. Thank you, Verizon Phone. One day without and I was anxious. Two days and I was beginning to be unpleasant to be around. Three days and, 'Hello, Virgin? About that ticket for Aug 27.." Sad, isn't it, how dependent we've become. Bonnie spent no exaggeration half of yesterday on hold with Verizon or talking to Verizon employees, none of whom apparently communicate with one another. This morning, upon awakening, my cell phone dinged "EMAIL!" and I was happy to discover the internet was ON. The euphoria was, however, short-lived, because by the time I took two phone calls on the land line, shouting over the terrible static and telling everyone to hang up and call me on my USA cell--the internet was down again. I rebooted the modem, and my laptop, and all was well. It took me until 5 PM to discover that every time I picked up the landline to shout my cell number, it disconnected the internet. Perfect, or what. Thank you Verizon, again. I don't cope well with this sort of thing. Am leaving it for Bonnie to sort tomorrow, and meanwhile not answering the house phone (and also the answer machine, just in case) which rings, I kid you not, 9 times an hour, better not be missing the police calling everyone to say there's an axe murderer loose so lock your doors.
Will take a pill tonight, after three terrible nights in a row listening to trees fall down in the forest, coyotes, thunderstorms, and my heart.
The other thing I lie awake thinking about is how to take Bonnie back to England. I can get used to this personal assistant thing, big time.
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