Delights: July 24 to July 30

July 24: Postcards from Assateague: Palm trees and hibiscus leaves brushing our barstools. Cocktails and crabcakes mingling with sailboats at the marina. A tandem and two single kayaks gliding along Sinepuxent Bay, with grazing horses in the distance. Two big dogs lying side by side, noses pointing north, snoozing in the shade at the beach. Two toddlers pushing, with all their strength, the beach wagon tugged by their mom.

And earlier during our beautiful beach day, four women struggling inelegantly to erect a wind-whipped beach canopy — to the vast entertainment of our neighbors!

July 25: After a day at the beach, beer and music beckoned. We had already scraped the refrigerator clean of cheeses, dips, veggies, and olives and had equipped the cooler to survive the hot afternoon sun. Tired and happy, we pointed the car to Sinepuxent Brewery. Picnic tables, cafe umbrellas and a live band greeted us. 

The band was terrific. Correctly judging the largely gray-haired crowd before them, the band played 70s and 80s music with sounds evoking Jimi Hendrix, Duane Allman and Jerry Garcia. Indeed, the band played a lot of the Grateful Dead, which pleased my friend Allison, veteran of many Dead concerts.

At one point, she leapt from her seat, ready to dance to some deep cut Dead song. “If you go up there, I’ll join you,” I said — and off she went. Uh oh.

This was definitely not a case of dancing like no one is watching. Nevertheless, we shimmied and waved our arms around to an extraordinarily long Dead song — and had an absolutely wonderful time. 

Never would I have gone up there without Allison’s enthusiasm and heart. All I did was say yes, and I’m so glad I did. Dancing really is embodied joy. 

July 26: Umbrellas, chairs, towels, cooler: check, check, check. Book? Um…..

I had been looking forward to several peaceful, breezy hours reading North Woods by Daniel Mason. How could I forget my book? 

When I groused aloud, my friend Janet improbably replied, “I brought two books. Want one?” I chose This is Happiness by Niall Williams and was immediately enthralled. The first 16 pages — I only got that far — contained the most beautiful sentences I’ve encountered in a long time. Every phrase was a Masters Class in writing, every idea both familiar and utterly original. 

I exaggerate, but only a little. Book critic Ron Charles, joining me in hyperbole, wrote, “Halfway through, I realized that if I didn’t stop underlining passages, the whole book would be underlined.” I didn’t get far enough to guess the plot or the main characters; I just splashed around in exquisite writing. 

I’m tempted to purchase my own copy just so that I can read the first four or five pages whenever I want. For me, this is happiness.

Bonus: In addition to dancing, eating and relaxing, we played a lot of mahjong. (We had billed the weekend as Mahjong-palooza, and the getaway lived up to its promise.) Today, Allison, Janet and Maria treated me to a surprise hostess present, which Maria wrapped using part of the gift: a set of eight crab-themed cloth napkins. The wrapping is so lovely that I might procrastinate a bit before using them!

July 28: As a season ticket holder, I receive invitations from the Washington Nationals to various events. As a person who rarely reads her emails when on vacation, I missed an invitation to attend a player Q&A. As a person who sometimes gets lucky, I learned this morning that I got a ticket anyway.

Hours later, with my mouth agape, I stepped onto the field (!) behind the batting cage (!) to watch batting practice (!). And then I traveled to the press room where a handful of us watched the Nats’ gravelly voiced sportscaster Charlie Slowes interview pitcher Jake Irvin. (We love baseball on the radio at home, so my mouth gaped open again.) 

During his interview, Irvin mentioned the organization’s adherence to its new core values. Afterwards, I asked him what they are. “Integrity is one. And maybe hard work? But number one is definitely joy.”

I know a little something about that.

Bonus: Even though it’s $5 hotdog night, I grabbed my pre-game dinner at Seoul Spice, a make-your-own bonanza of Korean yumminess. I did all the things modern food purchases required and walked out the door — without my dinner. “Don’t forget your bowl!” said the very kind person who coached me through my masterpiece. Then she added, “I hope you have a nice day.” “You’ve already guaranteed it,” I replied.

July 29: An eleven year-old boy wearing Crocs and a Rinaldo jersey joined his grandparents for a tour of the mansion at Hillwood Estate, Museum & Gardens. My friend Jamie and I looked forward to the porcelain, the marquetry and the bling; what would catch his attention? 

A lot of things, including the bling. Are those real diamonds? Yes. Look at those animals next to those people! (He pointed to two spotted dogs lolling in an 18^th porcelain tableau.) Is that an apple on that lamp? Yes. (He was studying a rock crystal wall sconce ornamented with fruit that dangled where the prisms would be. The rock crystal apple at the lamp’s tip was even adorned with a crystal leaf.) Why did she let the Navy have her sailing ship for a dollar? Because she was a good person? Yes. And exceptionally wealthy. Do people still use this kitchen? Nope. He also sampled every (appropriate) chair we encountered.

Our tour — in this temple to French and Russian decorative and sacred arts — lasted a full hour. The boy showed more interest and stamina than some of the adults.

Kudos to his grandparents, who had already taken him to the pet cemetery and would no doubt invite him to navigate the stepping stones in the Japanese water garden. This child apparently has a well-developed “museum muscle.” You know I admire that. I found myself particularly rejoicing, however, in his capacity for curiosity, wonder and delight in the most unlikely of places.

Bonus: Jamie and I also wandered into Hillwood’s special exhibition on textiles. In addition to showcasing gorgeous vestments, early 20^th century day dresses and Belgian lace, the exhibition featured work by contemporary artists. I was particular enthralled by this 36” x 20” embroidered fantasia by American artist Sophia Narrett. I’m showing you a detail so that you can see the stitches. 

July 30: Kevin and I saw The Odyssey last night and we join the chorus of praise. Although I adored Emily Wilson’s 2017 translation (read it!), I also find myself thrilling to this brilliant adaptation. 

Just as Wilson employed a different medium — writing — to spin a tale intended for oral storytelling (don’t get Jeremiah started on Wilson’s decision to abandon the iconic repetition of “wine-dark sea” and “rosy-fingered dawn”), director Christopher Nolan exploited the visual possibilities of his own. 

Visual lyricism abounds in this film, but nary a poetic word (although Penelope’s moments come very close). The characters seem to speak only to advance the plot; to me, lover of words, that was enough. The medium of film — with its special access to angles, acting and immediacy — allowed me to experience every explosive or quiet emotion within the characters’ narrative arcs. Such is the effect of all beautiful storytelling, whatever its form.

I guess at the end of the day I subscribe to Homer’s wisdom, as interpreted so brilliantly by Wilson: “Each man delights in the work that suits him best.”

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