Hey! I was gone?did you miss me?

Friday I drove down to Cambridge to hook up with these friends. The plan was to head to SOWA Saturday morning, which we did, only to find out that artists are delicate flowers, pweshus wittle people who cannot display their wares during torrential rain.

I mean, come on. They would?ve been given a square of cheap plastic to staple to the top of their booths?how hard would it have been to sit out in the cold and wet while only a few hardy types ventured past them, maybe not even glancing at their work let alone buy anything.

Like I said?total pansies.

Well, fortunately, Noelle and I are from Yankee stock and we made the trek anyway?went through some great galleries (I bought a shirt and ordered a table runner here)?had a most perfect lunch here.

(Ironically, I had the spring vegetable soup-- ever since reading an essay at Scarlett Thomas' site on why she is vegan, I have had an overwhelming aversion to eating meat-- especially in restaurants.)

However, the restaurant was very French:
gorgeous food? check.
lovely ambiance? check.
waiter with attitude and a length of birch plywood lodged up his ass? check. check. CHECK.

Did this phase me? Not in the least. Savored every minute of it.

Then we walked and walked and walked all through the South End. (NOTE: If you are wandering through Boston and find yourself in a very well manicured area of old brick townhouses with lots of community gardens and private gardens and everywhere you look it seems there are two dogs to every one person and every third boutique is a gift shop for dogs?chances are you are in the South End.) Saturday night we headed over to the b-side lounge . . .

Hey! Does it seem like I?m trying to distract you from my promise of answering questions with tales of my weekend?

Damn. I am so transparent like that.

Here?s the thing?I?m just going to plow through these questions. No long-winded answers, ?kay?

1. Long, long ago when she was still a young, unmarried (not even engaged!) girl, Samantha asked me a few times to explain how I knew Colleen Dewhurst and describe the time we spent together. (Given the current state of Sam's abdomen, I feel an urge to wrap this one up before she gives birth--otherwise, god knows her kids will be in college before I get around to it).

On reflection, the reason I have dragged so long on answering this one is that everyone involved in these stories (except for Colleen, bien entendu) is still alive and well and several of them are very prominent in film and television and you would know them and so it gets all kinds of sticky if I start down that path.

So, Sam?here is the shortest version with the least amount of exposure to me or anyone else.

Colleen was a beautiful, dynamic, delightful woman. I spent some wonderful weekends at her farm in New York?both for parties and for just hanging out. She loved me and I loved her. She loved to play bridge, as did I. Her house was always full of stray cats and stray folks?she had a great big heart and always made everyone feel like they were her special favorite. She was nothing like the woman in Green Gables?she was warm, vibrant and her laugh was utterly contagious. When I think of her, it?s her voice I remember first and the way she would say my name.

She was utterly lovely, and like all of us, flaked with flaws?but the world is definitely less bright without her in it.

Second question was less a question and more of a promise to Jecca (and myself, really) that I would pursue the answer to a dogging situation.

Again, the backstory is longer than the nail on a cocaine addict?s little finger so I?m going to try and condense this one, too. But, maybe tomorrow?it?s a stunning morning here and I need to get the brombie mob outside for a good run. A la prochaine.

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