Me: So... is this house haunted?Stephen: No.
I realized as we drove towards the interstate on Day Thirty that it had been years since my big brother and I had slept under the same roof. It's one of those landmarks that comes and goes unnoticed: I don't remember my last day sleeping at my parent's house. I don't remember the last time Stephen coming home for school vacation meant me waking up to the sounds of oddly shaped stringed instruments humming through the wall between our rooms. I'd knock on his door and he'd be standing with his lute or banjo or guitar in his arms, branches borrowed from the front yard covering his ceiling, random bits of art cluttering shelves overstuffed with books that, after years of coming home in May and going elsewhere in August, he'd had to leave behind. There would be a kitty looking up at me from the bed, unsure of whether she was enjoying the music, but definitely enjoying the attention. For countless years, these were my summer mornings. Afternoons were for walking for food or for books. Evenings were spent singing and chatting until we couldn't stay up any longer. When we'd begun planning this trip, I hadn't realized how much a half-week in Providence was going to mean to me.
Stephen lives with eleven other college students in Finlandia, a co-op a few blocks from Brown University and the Rhode island School of Design. The residents are friendly and delightfully odd, and they clearly think my big bro is as cool as I do. Mike and I slept in a little guest room on the top floor, under a blanket that, through some cosmic coincidence, had the same slightly sinister print of Kermit the Frog strumming a guitar as Stephen used to have on his curtains at home. Downstairs, the walls of the kitchen were covered with amusing and incriminating quotes from over two decades' worth of Findy residents. On our first night, a fellow offered us some home-brewed ginger beer. We spent a couple hours late one night discussing odd finger formations and the ability to clap really, really fast. It was pretty much awesome.
Mike gives a good day-by-day for what we did while we were in Providence. Let me add to his account by saying that, between eating well, sleeping plenty, meeting new people, exploring a beautiful little city, and lunching in Boston with the delightful Tina, these were some of my very favorite days of the road trip. Plus, I got to see my brother perform in concert for the first time in four years. As I watched him with his medieval music group, Resonanda, as they blew the socks (and Birkenstocks) off the audience that had overflowed the mausoleum in which they sang, I will admit my eyes watered a bit with actual human emotion. I was so glad to be exactly where I was, sitting next to my hubby, thousands of miles from home, watching my big brother be freaking amazing.
We listened to: Mitch All Together (Mitch Hedberg), Cantigas de Santa Maria as performed live, in concert, by Resonanda, and the unique cacophony of five people trying simultaneously to demonstrate their fastest clapping.
Mystery words: "the Hitler of saints" and "Amasa Sprague"
Mike's blarging again: astoriedyear.blogspot.com
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