The Gilded Cage is finished. I almost regret having come to an end of this lovely little design. It has been such a joy. Everything about it has been a delight: the design itself, the Needlepoint Inc silks, the fact that the chart was received in a RAK.
Since this morning the sun shone for the first time in nearly a week, I decided to take the scenic drive to work, along the Hudson River and past the marina. Last year, driving past the marina, I got a bit of a lift every morning when I saw the most charming little boat moored at one of the docks. It was one of those old-time all wooden motor launches, varnished teak or mahogany [hard to tell which from the road] with some antique gold paintwork about the cabin and the shine of brass rails. It just made me smile every morning to see it nestled in among all the towering fiberglass that glinted showily in the sun ... proof positive that some people still placed a value on the old-fashioned solidity of by-gone workmanship. I fantasized a bit about owning that boat or something very like it. Well, the boat isn't in its usual place this year ... I am hoping that means the owners are still enjoying it in some other space ... perhaps they retired to a cottage on the Maine seashore or somewhere along Cape Cod. I don't want to believe that hard times forced the sale of a boat so obviously well-tended and loved.
The drive along the river always starts my day off with some beautiful sight. Here is a photo of a house I would enjoy living in. The view on three sides is river ... lovely enough to make you forget that the view on the remaining side is of elevated troughs leading from a gravel quarry to a dock for barges. On the left side of the house, slightly obscured by the trees, are a first and a second story porch: the perfect place for relaxing and viewing the river. There was a haze on the water this morning and sky and water were just about indistinguishable.