Tuesday, Aug. 4

Tomorrow, we leave for Maine. Hooray! This is wonderful for two reasons: the first obvious one is that we get back to cool country and the beauty that is Maine and that means that my mother is that much better. One more trip to the hospital in the morning and then we're on our way back to Nirvana.

My mother is doing so well that she wanted us to get her a book, magazines, and her mail. She was ordering everyone around today and took a walk to the elevator with a walker. She told the Physical Therapist that that was too short of a walk and she really didn't need the walker.

The fistula is not closed according to the last CT-Scan so she'll be in the hospital for probably at LEAST another week before going to rehab. The Occupational Therapist said that she would not be in rehab long because she's very strong, feisty, and motivated. My cousin and my aunt will visit her every day and I have her telephone number so I can pester her myself--whether she wants me to or not.

We are HAPPY HAPPY!

Tonight was the Grove Avenue (where I grew up and my mother still lives) Block Party. Although we were trying to clean the house (to my mother's specifications) and pack for Maine, we were compelled (my mother would not take no for an answer) to attend. Now this is where I grew up (Grove Avenue until I left NY at age 20 after marrying) but there are very few of the same neighbors from my time there. My mother is the neighborhood matriarch having babysat for many of these neighbors and worked on the Heldeberg Neighborhood Association for quite awhile, but I've been gone for 40 years. This usually coincides with National Neighborhood Night Out day (night?). However, my mother is not well and that's the least I could (we could) do for her (she really used it, too). I had to draw the line though when she started telling me what I had to bring to the festivities (a pot luck). She told me that she always brought the same three things and they were the most popular foods as they were usually gone within the first fifteen minutes of the party: Italian meatballs and sauce, hard-boiled eggs (she adds horseradish), and baked beans (doctored canned beans). I protested promising that Bob and I would wow her friends and we would do our part in presenting our best dishes. So, Bob made sausage, peppers, and onions in sauce (accompanied by a nice boule) and I made Vodka Rigatoni and chicken--huge portions of these were set out (and they were gone in the first 15 minutes and I had several requests for recipes).

Now, Albany is much akin to Chicago as far as the democratic political machine is concerned, so these neighborhood block parties are usually attended by the politicians running for office in the next election. On this particular night, the mayor himself, Gerald Jennings, city common council candidates, judges, city auditor candidate (a new office being created), and various other crooks, errr political candidates were present (in their campaign t-shirts and armed with their flyers). There were 15 block parties that night so these candidates were busy.

Along with the candidates, police came with their horses, Officer Gruff (you know the dog mascot), neighborhood musical group (a violinist, guitarist, and hammer dulcimerist?)and lots of food. A new couple who just bought a house across the street from my mother even came. They're renovating the house and haven't even moved in yet, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves. The kids had bicycle races and water balloon tosses, a parade, and other activities as well. I met a few people and reacquainted myself with some of the parents of the kids my children used to play with during our summers in NY (about 11 summers spent in NY when my kids were growing up). All in all it was a very pleasant night but we would pay for this dearly when we would have to do everything the next day before we could leave for Maine. Bob took many pictures and I showed them to my mother at the hospital who viewed them on my laptop. She loved it. She was also presented with a 4-foot get- well card signed by all her neighbors (and Mayor Jennings).

Bob, though he knew too well the political goings on in Albany, was fascinated by the political dog and pony shows. "It was laughable," says he. He thought it was interesting, almost anachronistic--a real throwback to the 1920's and before (with the Irish immigrants). The only thing missing was the free beer (but that comes at the Democratic picnic next month).

Last year, Bryn attended and described it as "food among strangers (to her)" but I think this speaks volumes about this little neighborhood that has received a number of grants, where neighbors really know (and even help) their neighbors, and has been the subject of a number of interesting articles published in local magazines and newspapers. I looked down the block and realized that very little had changed--the houses were still lovely, the lawns were mowed, flowers were planted everywhere, and the kids would play together and remember their happy childhoods on Grove Avenue just as I do.