I took this picture of a really fuzzy quince a few weeks ago. I remember when I first got really depressed when I was 21 I became fixated on finding a quince and I couldn't find one anywhere - I'd read a description of one in some book that made an impression on me. Since I started taking meds I've been okay but this past few days I've had as bad a spell as I can remember - awfully scary as I can't attribute it to troubles with love or work or life and it's terrible to really feel at the mercy of your faulty genes. Thank goodness, this strain - which also includes migraines and (not in my case)math aptitude - has skipped Charlie. My grandfather, his mom, her father and grandfather all suffered from melancholia badly - which is to say, they all committed suicide. Probably others too but I don't know that far back. Most of them spent a lot of time in "the bin." Thank goodness for drugs!
Anyway! I'm feeling better. Sunday Slim had to get me out of the house, take me to look at the puppies in the window on 6th Avenue, feed me a croissant at Patisserie Claude (Claude has retired; various regulars were vying for supremacy with the sous-chef who's take it over) and sit me down at a showing of Amarcord. He is too good to me; I made a batch of Millionaire's Shortbread for him when I felt better.
I just got this note from my mom:
"I took a quick glance at one of your Jezebel columns yesterday (bad gifts) -- didn't Charlie give you the first two (picture and dinner invitation)? I recognize the Nips, too, but can't remember who gave them. Alas, I have a VERY strong premonition Santa may be bringing sox ....
Can I help with your phone repair? Let me know. Papa and I are having lunch with Chaim today and then I'm getting my hair cut (Daniela) and THEN it's off to the Writer's Guild Xmas party, where the invitation assures us much networking will ensue. Papa and I may be the only grayheads there, but you never know. These functions (I'm thinking the strike lines, here) tend to attract real losers and blowhards living on their past glories. We went to an auction in Larchmont last night and I got the oil painting I went for (pretty cheap, of course). I think you'll really like it, too. It needs a repair job, but that will have to wait for the Bad Times to recede. They were giving away furniture at the auction -- some of it beautiful.
All for now.
She mustn't know I've been "sick" again.