June 30, Lancaster.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
The woods.
June 30, Lancaster.
Dylan, Nicolas, Flaco and I went for a walk in the woods behind the circus this afternoon.
We found blueberry bushes and wild strawberry plants softened our steps but neither bore fruits yet. Dylan and Flaco fought over mushrooms, wanted to to go on to the end of the path; it disappeared in the forest.
Morning unfolding.
June 30, Lancaster.
Same lot as last year, but we came from the opposite direction.
All is still when I wake up, half an hour ahead of call time, back in Merrimac, but the sound of the horses Armando is loading up into a trailer. Then little by little the tractor trailers' engines break into a roar as Castro goes around starting them, and the first voices can be heard. John is parked next to us and he comes out to start his generator. Soon Mike's truck is leaving the lot, followed by Carolyn in their pickup truck, and Raul is leaving too, always the first private to go with the Cainans. But this morning the Cainans linger on, and I see them drive off as I sit down in our truck after Fridman has put the kids in their seat.
It is daylight, one of the privileges of summer morning traveling. The drawback is that mosquitoes are out, for otherwise it is an easy time with the circus, when the days are long and the BBQs plenty, the kiddie pools are out and town people bring an air of unencumbered childhood delight to the show.
The drive is of average length, an hour and a half or so, but early on Fridman stops for the generator truck. It's on the shoulder of I-495, the interstate loop around the Boston area. I go on because chances are they'll be there a while, with traffic hurtling by at high speed not more than a few feet away. Fridman and I say goodbye and take good care on the CB radio. It will be mid-morning before they arrive on the lot.
Traffic is heavy with the morning rush, the road is full of potholes, but I make it without incident, reaching John Moss in the Marathon at the end. He is a careful driver, as meticulous in this task as in everything else he does.
It was cool this morning, and when I get to sit down outside with a cup of tea while watching the kids play on a mount of dirt at the end of the field, it is cool still, and breezy, reminding me of an early autumn day.
The circus day has just begun.
(To be continued.)
Same lot as last year, but we came from the opposite direction.
All is still when I wake up, half an hour ahead of call time, back in Merrimac, but the sound of the horses Armando is loading up into a trailer. Then little by little the tractor trailers' engines break into a roar as Castro goes around starting them, and the first voices can be heard. John is parked next to us and he comes out to start his generator. Soon Mike's truck is leaving the lot, followed by Carolyn in their pickup truck, and Raul is leaving too, always the first private to go with the Cainans. But this morning the Cainans linger on, and I see them drive off as I sit down in our truck after Fridman has put the kids in their seat.
It is daylight, one of the privileges of summer morning traveling. The drawback is that mosquitoes are out, for otherwise it is an easy time with the circus, when the days are long and the BBQs plenty, the kiddie pools are out and town people bring an air of unencumbered childhood delight to the show.
The drive is of average length, an hour and a half or so, but early on Fridman stops for the generator truck. It's on the shoulder of I-495, the interstate loop around the Boston area. I go on because chances are they'll be there a while, with traffic hurtling by at high speed not more than a few feet away. Fridman and I say goodbye and take good care on the CB radio. It will be mid-morning before they arrive on the lot.
Traffic is heavy with the morning rush, the road is full of potholes, but I make it without incident, reaching John Moss in the Marathon at the end. He is a careful driver, as meticulous in this task as in everything else he does.
It was cool this morning, and when I get to sit down outside with a cup of tea while watching the kids play on a mount of dirt at the end of the field, it is cool still, and breezy, reminding me of an early autumn day.
The circus day has just begun.
(To be continued.)
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
"Those" people.
June 29, Merrimac.
As I interviewed Father Jerry yesterday we came upon the subject of the prejudice circus people suffer in the eyes of society outside the circus, or "townies," as we say. It reminded me of several episodes I had decided to brush off over the past months, and one in particular just last week in Berkley.
The circus was next to the library so the kids and I went to our favorite hangout beside the whoop as soon as we could. Sister Jo was there too, using the internet. When she saw me she smiled and whispered that the librarians were not so happy about our being here, and indeed they were as unwelcoming as they could be short of being rude. Then as I was talking to a Mom while her kids and mine played together in the children's section, the instant I mentioned I was from the circus she turned around and left so fast I didn't have time to realized she was gone.
There was also the time a few weeks ago when a post office clerk in a small Maryland mountain village, unaware that I was from the circus (the point exactly, isn't it?) told me to be careful because there were "going to be a lot of people today," hinting that we had better protect ourselves, and presumably our properties, from "those" people. I felt strangely violated, yet incredulous.
Father Jerry mentioned ignorance as the main culprit for this widespread prejudice. Most probably it is, hand in hand with ignorance, a distrust, sometimes even a fear, of traveling people of all kinds, the Gypsies of Eastern Europe, the carnival and circus people of Western Europe, the nomads of Northern Africa, as ancient and ingrained as the traditions of traveling people themselves.
The eternal other amongst us has many faces and it is always our own (I is another, said Rimbaud, the French poet.) It looks back at us from the other side of the world, the other side of the street, the other side of the prison walls; it is the mad, the homeless, it is the migrant, the circus hand; it is me. Circus people, with their generous, suspicious cultural and ethnic diversity, their bohemian mobility, and the unimaginable feats they perform, exemplify that otherness, layer after layer, to picture-perfection.
They also exemplify its inherent contradiction, its absurdity, our own folly.
Mariana and Gordo walking up to the altar.
I is another.
As I interviewed Father Jerry yesterday we came upon the subject of the prejudice circus people suffer in the eyes of society outside the circus, or "townies," as we say. It reminded me of several episodes I had decided to brush off over the past months, and one in particular just last week in Berkley.
The circus was next to the library so the kids and I went to our favorite hangout beside the whoop as soon as we could. Sister Jo was there too, using the internet. When she saw me she smiled and whispered that the librarians were not so happy about our being here, and indeed they were as unwelcoming as they could be short of being rude. Then as I was talking to a Mom while her kids and mine played together in the children's section, the instant I mentioned I was from the circus she turned around and left so fast I didn't have time to realized she was gone.
There was also the time a few weeks ago when a post office clerk in a small Maryland mountain village, unaware that I was from the circus (the point exactly, isn't it?) told me to be careful because there were "going to be a lot of people today," hinting that we had better protect ourselves, and presumably our properties, from "those" people. I felt strangely violated, yet incredulous.
Father Jerry mentioned ignorance as the main culprit for this widespread prejudice. Most probably it is, hand in hand with ignorance, a distrust, sometimes even a fear, of traveling people of all kinds, the Gypsies of Eastern Europe, the carnival and circus people of Western Europe, the nomads of Northern Africa, as ancient and ingrained as the traditions of traveling people themselves.
The eternal other amongst us has many faces and it is always our own (I is another, said Rimbaud, the French poet.) It looks back at us from the other side of the world, the other side of the street, the other side of the prison walls; it is the mad, the homeless, it is the migrant, the circus hand; it is me. Circus people, with their generous, suspicious cultural and ethnic diversity, their bohemian mobility, and the unimaginable feats they perform, exemplify that otherness, layer after layer, to picture-perfection.
They also exemplify its inherent contradiction, its absurdity, our own folly.
Mariana and Gordo walking up to the altar.
I is another.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Dynasty.
June 28, North Andover.Nelllie's mother, Mrs. Hanneford, famed Hanneford Circus heir and owner, was visiting today.
First communion.
June 27, North Andover.
Mariana and Gordo's first communion went well.
Father Jerry asked Gordo to do his Risley act on-and-off trick with his suit jacket.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Father Jerry.
June 27, North Andover.
Mariana and Adrian Jr. are receiving their first communion tomorrow in Father Jerry Hogan's Saint Michael church here in North Andover.
Father Jerry, the national circus chaplain of the Catholic Church, has been visiting them over the past few days to help them prepare for the ceremony.
World Cup.
June 27, North Andover.
Ever since the World Cup started Armando has set up a tent outside his home in the Marathon with a giant flat-screen television in it to watch the matches. Yesterday was the U.S team's face-off with Ghana, today the match between Argentina and Mexico, with big followers on each side: the Fuscos and the Poemas versus the crew and the Perez.
"We're on our way with a doctor."
June 27, North Andover.
I've been sick for more than two weeks with some sort of intestinal bug and it got a lot worse yesterday. Priscilla and Jo moved last night to North Andover to attend mass with Father Jerry and as they came to say goodbye they volunteered to ask him whether he would know a physician so I could make an appointment more easily than by looking blindly up the yellow pages.
This morning as we pulled into the lot Jo called saying they were on their way with a doctor.
Standing by their van he listened to me then wrote a prescription on a piece of paper Priscilla handed him (he thinks I have an e-coli infection.)
That's the little sisters.
That's the circus.
I've been sick for more than two weeks with some sort of intestinal bug and it got a lot worse yesterday. Priscilla and Jo moved last night to North Andover to attend mass with Father Jerry and as they came to say goodbye they volunteered to ask him whether he would know a physician so I could make an appointment more easily than by looking blindly up the yellow pages.
This morning as we pulled into the lot Jo called saying they were on their way with a doctor.
Standing by their van he listened to me then wrote a prescription on a piece of paper Priscilla handed him (he thinks I have an e-coli infection.)
That's the little sisters.
That's the circus.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
A historical visit on the house and the infinity of our circus days.
June 25, Pembroke.
A fan of the circus, Bob Lessard, took the four of us on a tour of the area this morning; he had extended the same favor to Jim and Beverly a few days ago and was a pleasure to mill around with.
We stopped at Plymouth Rock, joked about it being really installed in 1954 for tourists' sake, walked around a replica of the Mayflower, had Dylan make a scene because he wanted to go on it, drove on to the Winslow House for a fascinating historical visit of this 1699 rather gentry pilgrims' home.
I had gotten up early to sit outside and read, the woods opening up in front of the trailer, the vines brushing up against my flowers, the loveliness of it all. It is afternoon now and I am finishing this morning's cold tea. Two days of infinity.
Or as Carolyn said, life reinvented every day.
We get up and reinvent ourselves, on the road with the circus, day after day after new day, the challenges, the beauty, the chaos, the routine, all unfolding as if for the first time.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Up the coast.
June 24, Pembroke.
The kids and I took a ride with Jacquie, the teacher, and ended up in Ocean Bluff, up the coast from Plymouth.
The circus has the day off, we only show tomorrow. We had breakfast at Dunkin Donuts, our own little once-in-while celebration, and Fridman is now heading to a Cirque du Soleil show in Hartford, Connecticut, with Dylan.
It has gotten very warm and humid, all of a sudden, summer is here.
The kids and I took a ride with Jacquie, the teacher, and ended up in Ocean Bluff, up the coast from Plymouth.
The circus has the day off, we only show tomorrow. We had breakfast at Dunkin Donuts, our own little once-in-while celebration, and Fridman is now heading to a Cirque du Soleil show in Hartford, Connecticut, with Dylan.
It has gotten very warm and humid, all of a sudden, summer is here.
A surprise visit.
June 23, Berkley.
An old acquaintance from journalism school came by today and it turns out he has been following the blog since the Chimera days.
Thom now is married and has a four-year-old daughter; the family lives in Providence. Smaller world still.
He came to the circus at the first show today and stayed on to catch up. Dylan was in heaven with his new friend.
An old acquaintance from journalism school came by today and it turns out he has been following the blog since the Chimera days.
Thom now is married and has a four-year-old daughter; the family lives in Providence. Smaller world still.
He came to the circus at the first show today and stayed on to catch up. Dylan was in heaven with his new friend.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Circus band.
June 22, Berkley.
There was a traditional circus band performing in the tent at the beginning of the second show today.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Half way up (or down) party.
June 20, Charlestwon.
Carolyn, always on the lookout for an excuse to have a party, organized one tonight to celebrate the circus season's midpoint.
There was a Hawaian theme, and even the Little Sisters showed up, albeit with no flowers in their hair.
Lights, smoke, action.
June 20, Charlestown.
Charlestown is a new town for Kelly Miller and the stakes are high as until last year this used to be a Big Apple Circus venue.
Big clown shoes to fill, and so the professional lighting and smoke effects, and a crew filming the show in high definition, for then the lights are gone and it's our good old mud show all over again.
Clothes lines.
June 20, Charlestown.
We're here for four whole days, with three days of shows, an aberration in Kelly Miller Circus history, an eternity in our circus routine.
The laundry even has time to dry.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Travel day.
June 18, Charlestown.
Travel day, which would have been great if we had arrived as planned, late morning at worst so we could have gone and spent the rest of the day at the beach by the pond next to the whoop in this vast, beautiful park here in this little town by the ocean.
Instead we spent three hours in a shopping mall parking lot two miles off yesterday's lot while the axle on Oscar's trailer was getting repaired, then two hours at a rest area doubling as a weigh station outside of Danbury, Connecticut (No Loitering, Police on Alert) while, among other things, the emergency brakes on the Marathon were being fixed so it could get back on the road. John had been stopped at the scales as he was helping Reyna dump. We dumped too.
By the time we made it here it was mid-afternoon. We still got to the beach, however briefly, for then Fridman wanted to go see the Cole Brothers Circus, playing some twenty miles away. I stayed home with Nicolas and Priscilla and Jo came by for an evening tea.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Chores.
June 17, Cortland Manor.
Little Sisters Jo helps in the kitchen and Priscilla with school.
Today they are sewing the back curtain, too, and the sewing office is John's outdoor table wedged in between his truck and their van. With any luck it will not rain.
Early morning musings.
June 17, Cortland Manor.
Last night I erased by accident half of the pond pictures I took so this morning I got up an hour early and went back. There was no way to capture the same scene, only more opportunities to muse about light and color and lines.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Problem lots, tranquil vistas.
June 16, Brewster.
This was what we call politely a "problem lot."
Nails and debris across the lot. No water. A lonely but vocal animal rights protester, in her seventies. Something about pond water for the animals, although it got resolved after all. And the tent was set up on astro turf, so in the end it was the neatest presentation we've ever had.
And the ponds offered tranquil vistas.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
Comeback.
June 14, Greenwood Lake.
Adrian Poema hurt his knee three weeks ago jumping over a puddle backstage during a severe storm and hasn't been able to work since, meaning no Risley act for the whole family of course. Today they started again, minus Nellie this time (she went home to Florida yesterday for a week.) Delena will help them.
Broken.
June 14, Greenwood Lake.
There was a wonderful yard sale in Lambertville on Saturday, and among other things I found a candelabra I just loved.
Then I broke it.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
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