The Abominable Child (I sent her that abominable hat) calls to me, speaks to me. She tells me it is time to go to Brooklyn this weekend to go and see her. She commands me to go on the Amtrak website right now and buy train tickets. She instructs me to call Cassandra Conety and arrange for animal care for Saturday, one day.
We both recognize, I think, that visitors smell like old fish if they stay too long, so we do not stay too long.
it is a beautiful train ride from Albany to New York City and Maria is coming too, so we will hold hands and stare out the window together. I am happy to rub her tired feet most of the way, I am fond of her feet. it is a lovely ride.
I am bringing my camera, to take my own photos of my granddaughter.
Robin and I are already communicating in a mystical way, through these photographs.
She asks me sweetly if I can bring her some toys, I am famous for choosing toys that babies love but parents hate, you know, those tacky, loud and annoying ones. Not wholesome or organic in any way, toys rarely seen in the better parts of Brooklyn.
At this age, babies are like puppies, easily bribed. And already rebelling.
The Abominable child, like her grandfather has a meaningful stare, and also an eye for mischief and subversion. Our stare is about the only physical similarity we share I think, and lucky for her.
We will be plotting and scheming together against all authority by noon on Saturday. I’m thinking she might call me Gramps. I will persuade Emma to let me walk her through the streets of Brooklyn. At first, Emma was reluctant for anyone to walk Robin, now I think, like many young parents, she wouldn’t mind a break. And she trusts me not to lose her or drop her, especially if Maria is around.
My daughter Emma has turned out to be wicked and devious in this, she has sent me a stream of photos showing the Abominable Child being adorable and her gaze is quite penetrating. I said I wasn’t into cute, but she is pretty cute.
She will be a handful. She is rumored to be heading for the farm in a few weeks when it is warm to see her first donkey, sheep, pony and border collie.
I think she will not soon forget a visit like that. We re not as hip or organic as Brooklyn here, but we have our own wild time.