Edward Gorey's drawings and whimsey seems to have affected my daughters much more than it did me. I don't specifically remember reading his books to them -- perhaps they read them mostly after they were in grade school. Anyway I have totally ignored the fact that his home is now a museum and is less than ten miles far away. Today my daughters and I sentd something over an hour in the house and perusing the current exhibit which is about his involvement in the performing arts -- designing sets, logos, program illustrations and so on for plays and ballets and other arts. They loved it and remembered fondly many of his drawings. I seem to have been largely oblivious. The house is a deceptively large Cape Cod type and is filled with memorabilia. It is also hosted by some of the most pleasant personnel I've found in any museum. They gave tours, they chatted and they flirted a little bit. It was entirely charming - so was the enormous cat that lives there, so were the many little touches that made the time a series of delights as we went from room to room. Sometimes something wonderful is right under our noses and we ignore it for no very good reason at all. That was the case with this wonderful little museum.
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!