Time again.

July 1, North Andover.

I've enjoyed taking pictures of Don Fusco, the patriarch of the Fusco family, and now that he told me this would be his last year performing the sessions have become a tribute, and an occasion to reflect once again on the passing of time.
Time, the clay I try to shape into meaning, the passing of time, Don Fusco's last days in the limelight, the end of a circus career, a life in the circus, a life carried on by his children, the extended family, how things change and stay the same, trying to shape and twist and delve into time my primary material, but really what I'm trying to do is to challenge death and the passing of people and passions into dust with visions of beauty in my eyes.

More rain?

July 1, North Andover.

It's been a deluge since this morning, there was even a tornado warning (tornadoes in Massachusetts now?) and it looks like the rain is not going to end  any time soon.
This summer feels like a rerun of the 2009 season, Rain Central, with everything in the trailer starting to smell slightly sour, towels that never really dry hung here and there to air, but they don't, because it's damp and damper.

A trailer with a view.

July 1, North Andover, Massachusetts (72 miles, middle school grounds.)

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.)