TT: Frosting on the cake

I’m up in Connecticut with Mrs. T, doing as little as possible in between spells of overwork. We watched old movies all weekend, the best of which were Payment Deferred (not on video, alas), Trouble in Paradise, and Twentieth Century, and I unwound by reading five Elmore Leonard novels. Yesterday morning we drove through a snow shower to have brunch at Still River Café, a wonderful restaurant located more or less in the middle of nowhere. Along the way we passed a white-frosted creek that reminded me of John Twachtman’s “Winter Harmony,” one of my favorite American paintings, and I marveled at my happiness and good fortune.
The fun, alas, ends tomorrow–I’ll be returning to New York to see two shows, write two pieces, get a tooth pulled, buy Christmas presents, and do whatever else needs to be done–but I’m not complaining. Except for the tooth, I have no right or reason to complain. It hardly seems possible that I was dying three years ago this week. Those terrible days now seem far, far away.