Mud show and a difficult lot.

June 30, Douglas.

There it was, yet one more time, at the bottom of the route slip, the dreaded note: "Arrows to a difficult lot."
It's become a tradition, lately, this dreaded announcement, and the bad surprises it brings: too narrow for tractor trailers to enter or exit without acrobatics, no place to set up the cookhouse tent, hardly anywhere to set up anything else, the list goes on. Over the past two days it was a mud theater on top of no cook house tent for the fourth time in less than a month and nowhere to park backstage, and forklift show time again to two trucks out of the while mess this morning.
My friend Bitsy helped her eighty-one-year-old mother through the mud on Friday, the two of them laughing all the way about how they could now claim they'd seen to a real mud show.
It's the mudshow diaries.
After a five thirty call, we're moving tonight because of traffic.
We know the lot, it's the same lot as every year in North Andover, and no, it's not difficult.

A trailer with a view.

June 30, Douglas, Massachusetts (63 miles, next to the fire station.)

Don Fusco (circus portrait series.)

Misty circus.

June 28, Acushnet.

Bisty.

June 28, Acushnet.

They must have heard us on the other side of the tent, and up in the heavens too if there are any friends' souls up there.
It was one of these reunions you dream about, twenty years and not a wrinkle to the sweetness, your love, the strength of your bond, that flashing submerging feeling of belonging to a friend as one belongs to a place, an idea, a passion.
Bitsy is back in my life and that blazing hug and yell is all it took. Bitsy's here, Bitsy's back, and life is that much more worth living for, oh yes, with one of those friendships that give it meaning and fortitude, and joy. She has become a globe-trotting new media business superwoman and she's exactly the same person, self-deprecating humor, warmth, red-headed flame, that she was then. I am grateful for Mary Beth's friendship too, she also visited yesterday with her boys, and we had our Missouri reunion to our giddy selves (we went to journalism grad school together and there we met,) and even Bisty's Mom was here, and she's such a sweetheart and a beauty.
It was an Irish summer day, all drizzle and cool, it was warmed with our laughter.
After they all had left and all was quiet and a little sad the way it is after something good has ended, the mist rolled in, as on cue, and the circus was shrouded in a beautiful, misty dusk.

A trailer with a view.

June 28, Acushnet, Massachusetts (12 miles, White's Family Fun Center.)

Dayesca Luna Rosales, six years old (circus portrait series.)

June 27, Berkley.

Love you.

June 27, Berkley.

A trailer with a view.

June 27, Berkley, Massachusetts (17 miles, American Legion grounds.)

Stone soup.

June 27, Berkley, Massachusetts (17 miles, American Legion grounds.)

We moved tonight, after an incident in which someone broke into a trailer left all of us feeling unsafe, trapped into a cramped lot in the middle of old brick industrial buildings, a bar and one too many tattoos.
The day had begun with a difficult route, then the cramped lot, and the heat and humidity.
Things took a turn for the better when Sister Dorothy, one of our neighbors for the day for we were parked on the side of management, asked for a space to settle her teaching quarters, and I offered our porch. She teaches the Rosales twins, and I in turn asked if Dylan could read to them as part of their lessons; she agreed. We'd been reading a book called Stone Soup and he enjoyed it greatly so I thought having him read it to others would make a nice change in our daily school routine and bring some relief to our daily school battles. The result was even better than expected: Sister Dorothy, who is a teacher by trade, rose up to the occasion and directed our improvised little class of five (Nicolas joined in) along a lively, and funny, text comprehension path that left the kids excitedly planning the making of a communal traveling circus stone soup. You bring the long, thin carrots, we'll bring the juicy beef bones - and Sister Dorothy offered to bring the stone.
We'd never had so much fun reading. Dylan and I went on to do math and to read French, and then the rest of the daily routine took over as usual, until the incident and the change of plans, the night move.
I took pictures of Raul again, and ran out to see what the sunset's orange light was doing to the sky, only to find a rainbow enfolding the big top like a glass jar.
Tonight the jump was uneventful and quick, and I am writing this as I wait for Fridman, who drove back to get the trailer left behind because it is missing its truck (it broke down during Monday's big jump; it's in a shop.) He drove last night too, a much bigger distance and many a wrong turn.
The house is wonderfully quiet.
Another circus day, another circus night.

The rainbow.

June 26, Fall River.

There was a rainbow over the big top tonight, like a giant bubble.

Backstage.

June 26, Fall River.

A trailer with a view.

June 26, Fall River, Massachusetts (55 miles, Fort Travassos park.)

Don Fusco..

June 25, Mendon.

At the zoo.

June 25, Mendon.

I went to do laundry after the jump; it was ninety-five degrees in the shade and we are living in what feels like a capsized boat, so laundry duty didn't look all that bad.
I came back to find Fridman building bookshelves for the kids' room. They had been in the plans since I arrived, but there was always something else going on. The house was head over heels for a while, toys forming an alarming pile: with things moved from here to there in fifty square feet it tends to look stuffed and erratic fast. A coat of paint and the room will finally look as we have envisioned it, plus an immaculately white (not for long) Ikea armchair found for five bucks at a PA yard sale.
Today we were given a tour of the Southwick Zoo by its owner, who also happens to be the vet who came to check on the circus animals. The facility is a fabulous, impressive woody haven, and Dylan and Nicolas got to see cheetahs and gazelles, giraffes and lemurs, too many different primates to count, and endangered species like rhinos, and even tapirs.
The zoo is spacious and beautiful; it looks and feels like a true labor of love.

Travels and more.

June 24, Mendon.

Travel day today with no major problems.
Steve's truck broke down and the cookhouse truck had issues, both less than twenty miles from the lot, but we were fine all the way, stopped to dump, ate our sandwiches. Bad surprise upon arriving as the lot is rough and seriously downhill. I got stuck trying to park, and Castro and Fridman got stuck trying to tow me out of my hole with the tire truck. We're on three blocks and still glasses and other kitchen wares have a tendency to slide as you set them down on the table. Circus trailer of Pisa; I'm glad nobody is coming to visit today.
Kris and Liz came to visit in Bergen County and couldn't get a ticket to the show: it was sold out. Volunteers were out in droves all day, directing traffic and milling about, and they even printed a flyer to welcome us to the neighborhood, with detailed directions to the nearest amenities. Both shows were full but the audience was surprisingly unresponsive, and neither Nicolas nor Dylan got any of the usual Oooohhh reaction when they come skipping out with the giant balloon, all smiles and kid twinkle.

A trailer with a view.

June 24, Mendon, Massachusetts (217 miles, Fino property, Route 16.)

After the show.

June 23, Washington Township.

Show pictures (Arwen Brown.)

June 22, Mine Hill.

Out-take (Marco Antonio.)

June 22, Mine Hill.

A trailer with a view.

June 22, Mine Hill, New Jersey (81 miles, firemen's grounds.)

A trailer with a view.

June 21, Weatherly, Pennsylvania (61 miles, Eurana park.)

Raul (circus portraits series.)

June 20, Bangor.

The days.

June 20, Bangor.

There will be no missing the dreaded heavy New Jersey commute traffic on the morning jump. This morning was as bad as they come, along Route 18 then Route 622 then highway 287 and I-80, jam-packed with rushing cars.
I remembered the lot we are on today as we drove in, the steam engine skeletons the kids climbed on to last year, and last year seems so far away in their eyes.
The days go fast now, they swirl, the drives, school in the morning, often we start late because I hate to wake up the boys when it's summer after all and they've worked so hard, and still do, and so we're late, as this morning, and there is hardly time to eat before heading to practice, and then there are the errands, sometimes more school, always something or other, when Fridman is not busy fixing somebody's problem or ours, the leaks, the bikes, always something or other, and the pictures always, and soon it's show time and getting Dylan, and now Nicolas, ready for it, walking them and watching them and walking back and undressing them as they struggle to race to their newest craze, video games, but only for an hour because they are nothing more than a drug and I don't like them one bit but here we are, the video game craze is on already, an hour, and soon enough it's the second show and the same dance and it's time for a shower and dinner and reading a book or two or three and crash, the day is gone.
We'll do the same tomorrow, if all goes well.

A trailer with a view.

June 20, Bangor, Pennsylvania (75 miles, Jacktown Show grounds.)

Nicolas' debut.

June 19, Old Bridge.

Nicolas' turn to make his debut in the big top, and we were just as nervous as with Dylan, if not more.
He didn't want to do it, at first, he was afraid of the balloon popping, but as the days went on and he saw how much fun his brother was having (and how much attention his brother was getting,) my little big man faced his fear, stepped up, and did fine.
There they are, my not-so-big boys, skippety-skipping into their life in the limelight with fearless steps.

A trailer with a view.

June 19, Old Bridge, New Jersey (59 miles, Kennedy park.)

The rain.

June 18, West Creek.

The rain.

June 18, West Creek.

Fridman carried Dylan all the way backstage because of the rain, the rain, the rain.

Nicolas.

June 18, West Creek.

Dylan.

June 18, West Creek.

The water.

June 18, West Creek.

We headed for the beach after school and practice. Driving along the bridge to Long Beach Island everything became white with fog. We enjoyed about ten minutes of watching a strong surf lost in the fog and the kids dodging it, the sound of sirens from invisible vessels at sea slightly sinister, before it started raining.
It's near intermission in the second show and it hasn't stopped. The entrance got so flooded it had to be moved to another point of the tent. The first show was halfway empty but the second one is full.

Out-take (the crew at work.)

June 18, West Creek.

A trailer with a view.

June 18, West Creek, New Jersey (32 miles, Eagleswood Fire Company grounds.)

The remains of the day (leaving New Oxford.)

June 17, Lakehurst.

Leaving New Oxford, Pennsylvania, two weeks ago, there was the trace of the ring on the ground, and nothing else. The field was empty, it was raining and everything was bathed in quiet darkness, and in the forlorn morning the shavings were all that was and is not anymore, the trace of Time etched on the gravel as if by a disconcerted artist, who upped and left its work not even begun, just traced.
I took the picture leaving the lot, asking the guys to wait a bit on our way out, and forgot about it. I don't know why I remembered last night, and went digging for it.

A trailer with a view.

June 17, Lakehurst, New Jersey (58 miles, ball field.)

Dylan in the show.

June 16, Bedminster.

A trailer with a view.

June 16, Bedminster, New Jersey (35 miles, River Road park.)

Backstage.

June 14, Carteret.

Back to mud.

June 14, Carteret.

There was rain on and off all day, and as a result, but also because of traffic, we jumped at night again, a longer jump this time, and still the rain, and the construction on the Turnpike. When we arrived everybody was backed up on the parking lot, for the generator truck had gotten stuck in the soggy grass field, and where we stopped is where we spent the night.
Even though the severe weather never materialized for us in Browns-Mills yesterday the rain was ongoing and at times heavy, and setting up the tent here this morning was the expected muddy mess, and then some. The city ended up hauling in dry dirt to make a clean entry for the public. We didn't practice as the tent crew were still working by mid-day bringing the bleachers in.
Circus work and then some.

A trailer with a view.

June 14, Carteret, New Jersey (64 miles, Peter Vezzosi field.)

Night move.

June 13, Browns Mills.

We jumped last night because of a forecast of heavy rains and severe storms that in the end hit us only this morning (but with a vengeance.)
There is a Dunkin Donuts down the street; we went for breakfast. I'm heading to the laundromat next door later on today too.

A trailer with a view.

June 13, Browns Mills, New Jersey (53 miles, Haines school complex.)

The Rosales family.

June 12, Clayton.

Coming of age.

June 12, Clayton.

I had the Rosales family pose the same way in 2008, when Gerard was still a boy. Look at him now.

Show pictures (Raul Olivares.)

June 12, Clayton.

Show pictures (Steve and Ryan.)

June 12, Clayton.

Show pictures (Lamount Dais.)

June 12, Clayton.

A trailer with a view.

June 12, Clayton, New Jersey (26 miles, elementary school grounds.)

Dylan's debut.

June 11, Bridgeton.

Dylan made his debut today in his father's act.
We were wretchedly nervous; he was fine.

A trailer with a view.

June 11, Bridgeton, New Jersey (29 miles, athletic field.)

A trailer with a view.

June 10, Carneys Point New Jersey (49 miles, YMCA ball field.)

The unexpected.

June 9, Havre de Grace.

Time, a wild chase after time in a yearning to hug it to a halt, cruelest of ideas, the sense of time, the ephemeral circus of life, I have been struggling to find the heart of my work and it was right in front of me.
Time.
I don't' know why I wanted to add this to a picture of Rebecca I took yesterday, but the fraction of a second when she closed her eyes struck me as what I should see in my mind when I think of time, and memory.

The show (Carolyn.)

June 9, Havre de Grace.

The show (Steve and Ryan.)

June 9, Havre de Grace.

The show (the Fuscos.)

June 9, Havre de Grace.

The show (Raul.)

June 9, Havre de Grace.