It is fall like but not November fall like. In Minnesota my brother went to a football game wearing Bermuda shorts; it was 75 degrees there. In Claverack, it scraped 65 and I was warm in my pullover fleece.
When I left home this morning, I wandered the Farmer’s Market, picking up a few things I craved like the Sea Salt and Onion cashews from Tierra Farms and some of their Free Trade Honduran coffee. Meandering over to the Red Dot, I had the omelet of the day and then went wandering the streets of Hudson, marching up one side of Warren Street and returning on the other side, an adventure that took me three hours.
There are all kinds of changes on Warren Street and while I have been aware of them, I haven’t walked the street the way I used to when I first arrived here. Some antique stores are gone and seem to have been replaced by clothing stores. Several times I thought I could be in SoHo in Manhattan.
A fancy pizzeria has opened and Olde Hudson has expanded beyond belief. Dena, who owns it, is a friend so I had seen that.
Many of us have been joking lately about the number of expensive cars seen on the street. Not so long ago I spotted a Ferrari parked on Warren Street as I was on my way to meet Larry Divney for lunch. We both said it was the beginning of the end.
When I arrived here fifteen years ago there were no expensive cars on the street. My Acura was an anomaly for the time as was Larry’s Infiniti.
Hudson is becoming a destination. For better or worse. Better for my house value but perhaps worse for those who liked the edge Hudson had when I arrived, a little bit of rebelliousness that was a treasure.
The center of it was the Red Dot, owned by Alana Hauptman who is the Texas Guinan of our town. Don’t know Texas Guinan? She ran the hottest speakeasies in New York during Prohibition. After 16 years, the Dot is still here and still a center of life in Hudson. And Alana is our Texas Guinan.
And walking Warren Street today, I was astounded by the changes. To think that I would be thinking it was a bit like SoHo, which is where I was living when we bought the house, is something I would never have thought then. Sometime, long after I am gone, it will be a lot like Provincetown, I suspect. Or Edgartown on The Vineyard. It’s becoming that kind of place.
But will never be exactly that kind of place. That’s what makes Hudson so special.
There were Porsches everywhere on the street today. When I went back to the Dot after my tour of the street I ran into James Ivory, the director of films like “A Room with a View.” He’s become a bit of friend, has been at parties at my home and dinners too, and one Christmas I spent with him at his house. With Alana…
It has been an interesting escapade to have lived here through all this, to witness the transformation of a community from rough and tumble to almost respectable. It was and is an artist’s haven, a place where writers and painters and actors gather.
Across the river in Catskill, there is the Bridge Street Theater and I went last week to a performance of “Frankenstein.” It was brilliant. And I mean brilliant. Steven Patterson, who did every role, was as riveting as Paul Scofield [“A Man For All Seasons”] when I saw him in London on my first trip there. It was a forgettable script but his performance was transcendent. Steven Patterson’s performance was like that.
Transcendent.
John Sowle directed. Equal kudos to him.
Tonight, I am not talking about politics or world events. I can’t tonight. We are at the near end of the most awful political period I have ever experienced. No matter who wins, the contentiousness will not end.
The creek at night.
Letter from the Vineyard 
Letter from Claverack 06 04 2017 Comforting things in touchy times…
June 5, 2017The pearl grey of twilight is settling on the Hudson Valley and I’m playing the Joan Baez station from Amazon Prime Music in the background, wrapped in the warmth of a fleece pullover as the day has been infused with a chill closer to October than June.
We have had 4.5 inches more rain than normal this year. Last year was a drought; this year a flood. Saturday started with rain and then became a brilliant early spring day – except it’s not quite early spring anymore.
At the Farmer’s Market, I picked up fair trade coffee and some incredible chevre from an amazing artisanal cheese maker that I discovered at the winter market. In a way, I feel disloyal to the other cheese purveyors I frequent and her cheeses are over the top wonderful. She is in the market, center aisle, on the east end. Goats and Gourmets.
And all this is very hygge. And oh, my god! Do I need hygge right now!
Donald Trump has removed us from the Paris Climate Accords. It was not unexpected and it is disappointing. As I watch, from my point of view, I am witnessing the President of this country diminish us with every move he makes.
It is something that saddens me every day and I know I must live with this for the rest of his term, be it four or eight years. All this impeachment talk is not very real as it is hard, as it should be, to impeach a president. It’s my hope that we will have only one term of this man and that the country will elect someone in 2020 who will deal with the very real problems we face.
Trump trumpeted he would spend money to restore the infrastructure of this country which is in desperate need of restoration. His plan for that seems, to me, a little incoherent.
As is my custom, from my Catholic childhood, I light candles at church on Sunday when I come back from communion. One candle is for me. Call me selfish but one candle is just for me. Another is for the people I know who are having health issues. It includes the daughter of my friend Clark Bunting, whose daughter suffered a traumatic brain injury and the son of a former boyfriend who has a son who also suffers from that and seems to be doing well as well as all the others I know who are dealing with health issues.
And I light a candle for Donald Trump and the world in which we are living, praying we will get through this.
Then I light a candle for all the things I said I would light a candle about and have forgotten.
It is very comforting for me to do this.
One of the reasons I attend Christ Church is that I am getting older and at some point, in this getting older process, I won’t be here and I would like a community of people to mourn me. Christ Church will. In the last few years, I have become an integral part of that community. My coffee hours after the 10:30 service are legendary as are the Easter brunches I have organized the last two years.
And I would like there to be a great good party on the deck of the cottage or, if that’s not possible, at the Red Dot. I’m part of that community also.
It’s my hope it will be some long time before there will need to be a celebration but I am laying the ground work for that. That, too, is hygge for me.
Sitting here in the cottage, I am grateful and that is so comforting, to be grateful.
Tags:Christ Church Episcopal, General, Home, Hudson Farmer's Market, Hudson New York, Hygge, Media, Paris Climate Accord, Politics, Trump
Posted in 2016 Election, Civil Rights, Claverack, Columbia County, Greene County New York, Hudson New York, Hygge, Life, Literature, Mat Tombers, Mathew Tombers, Matthew Tombers, Media, Paris Climate Accords, Social Commentary, Trump, Uncategorized | 2 Comments »