Betty and I have decided to postpone the U.K. until spring--and spend my birthday month meandering in New England. I need to find a back road in the U.S. and practice driving on the other side of the road!
We will wend our way around Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine, possibly Canada.
I will leave here sometime in September and do some Georgia mountains and Callaway Gardens with my mama.
Tuesday, July 31, 2018
Visual Journaling
I spent the entire day yesterday working on a journal Victoria gave me--a blue square journal (I call her Little Blue) that closes with an elastic band and whose pages are thick and thirsty enough for inks, glue, chalks and water colors. (Hand-Book Visual Journal by Global Arts.)
One of the Craftsy teachers said, "A journal is not a place for finished products so much as it is a process of learning to pay attention and observe things more closely, to celebrate the everyday." If used as trip journals, pages can be prepped with color and borders (or "activated," as one teacher calls it) before the trip, then filled with notes, travel memorabilia and drawings on the trip.
My first Chic Sparrow journal--a turquoise leather cover--was used for pictures and cards and handwritten notes I've saved over the years. When finished, I took out all those insert notebooks and put them in a special place to look at whenever I need a hit of love, then inserted four fresh notebooks. You buy inserts at Etsy, Amazon, or Chic Sparrow according to the size of the leather cover--A5, B6 Slim, etc.
I used my second Chic Sparrow--a smaller one with a red pebbly cover--for notes on photography online classes.
Now, Little Blue--along with a small notebook I bought in Virginia years ago made out of antique postcards--these are where I'm playing with lines, colors, marks, and words.
Yesterday, I pasted in old postage stamps, tried out lettering, played with chalks and water color pencils, and learned a lot about the ways different materials behave on these papers.
Craftsy, now Bluprint, has a class called Essential Techniques for Capturing the Energy of Places by James Richards--which pairs well with their classes by Judith Cassel-Mamet in Expressive Journaling. I stayed up til 2 a.m. watching these excellent classes!
I've always thought I'm not an artist because I don't have the slightest talent for drawing, but these classes are teaching me that drawing is learnable and that there are other paths to image-making besides drawing. Visual journals combine sketches, scribbles, collage techniques, and mixing various media.
One tip I particularly like it turning smart phone pictures to monochrome--and then using the photos as guides for drawing.
From James Richards, I learned that the human body is "eight heads tall." Who knew?
Judith Cassel-Mamet demonstrates a really cool technique for making books out of paper bags--which Day and Elena and I made together at the lake.
You need three paper bags for each book (white or brown). You fold each in half, put them together by sewing a seam down the spine, and then thicken it up with collage and watercolor papers. The paper of the bags doesn't work well for water colors, but if you cut a square of watercolor paper, you can glue it into the book.
When you fold the bags, then put them together in books, the openings of the bag leave pockets--which makes this a good travel journal. In the pockets, you can put maps and found objects, business cards, menus, etc.
One of the Craftsy teachers said, "A journal is not a place for finished products so much as it is a process of learning to pay attention and observe things more closely, to celebrate the everyday." If used as trip journals, pages can be prepped with color and borders (or "activated," as one teacher calls it) before the trip, then filled with notes, travel memorabilia and drawings on the trip.
My first Chic Sparrow journal--a turquoise leather cover--was used for pictures and cards and handwritten notes I've saved over the years. When finished, I took out all those insert notebooks and put them in a special place to look at whenever I need a hit of love, then inserted four fresh notebooks. You buy inserts at Etsy, Amazon, or Chic Sparrow according to the size of the leather cover--A5, B6 Slim, etc.
I used my second Chic Sparrow--a smaller one with a red pebbly cover--for notes on photography online classes.
Now, Little Blue--along with a small notebook I bought in Virginia years ago made out of antique postcards--these are where I'm playing with lines, colors, marks, and words.
Yesterday, I pasted in old postage stamps, tried out lettering, played with chalks and water color pencils, and learned a lot about the ways different materials behave on these papers.
Craftsy, now Bluprint, has a class called Essential Techniques for Capturing the Energy of Places by James Richards--which pairs well with their classes by Judith Cassel-Mamet in Expressive Journaling. I stayed up til 2 a.m. watching these excellent classes!
I've always thought I'm not an artist because I don't have the slightest talent for drawing, but these classes are teaching me that drawing is learnable and that there are other paths to image-making besides drawing. Visual journals combine sketches, scribbles, collage techniques, and mixing various media.
One tip I particularly like it turning smart phone pictures to monochrome--and then using the photos as guides for drawing.
From James Richards, I learned that the human body is "eight heads tall." Who knew?
Judith Cassel-Mamet demonstrates a really cool technique for making books out of paper bags--which Day and Elena and I made together at the lake.
You need three paper bags for each book (white or brown). You fold each in half, put them together by sewing a seam down the spine, and then thicken it up with collage and watercolor papers. The paper of the bags doesn't work well for water colors, but if you cut a square of watercolor paper, you can glue it into the book.
When you fold the bags, then put them together in books, the openings of the bag leave pockets--which makes this a good travel journal. In the pockets, you can put maps and found objects, business cards, menus, etc.
Monday, July 30, 2018
My Daddy
Seventeen years ago today my daddy died. When I think of him, as I do all the time, I remember his crinkly smile, his blue eyes, his constant affection and kindness.
On the anniversary of his death, I remember that awful day when it was clear he wasn't going to get better. I remember every detail about the intensive care room and the many visitors who came to say good-bye and who sat with us for hours in the hallway outside his room. I remember Carlene singing to him as he was leaving and saying, "It's been a great trip."
I remember Steve and Linda coming from Cape Cod, Betty from Peachtree City, and my then-boyfriend Bob from Minnesota. And Will--who bravely stood in front of a packed church to deliver a eulogy.
On other days, however, I don't remember so much the day he died so much as the days he lived. He had a huge spirit of love and generosity to his family, and you can see that in the way he almost always has his arm around one or all of in pictures.
So many little things he did stand out for me: taking flowers to widows in the neighborhood; scaling newly-caught fish for Carlene to fry for dinner; standing behind me at the piano and singing hymns, in a voice that sounded like Jim Reeves....
I won't ever stop missing this man!
On the anniversary of his death, I remember that awful day when it was clear he wasn't going to get better. I remember every detail about the intensive care room and the many visitors who came to say good-bye and who sat with us for hours in the hallway outside his room. I remember Carlene singing to him as he was leaving and saying, "It's been a great trip."
I remember Steve and Linda coming from Cape Cod, Betty from Peachtree City, and my then-boyfriend Bob from Minnesota. And Will--who bravely stood in front of a packed church to deliver a eulogy.
On other days, however, I don't remember so much the day he died so much as the days he lived. He had a huge spirit of love and generosity to his family, and you can see that in the way he almost always has his arm around one or all of in pictures.
So many little things he did stand out for me: taking flowers to widows in the neighborhood; scaling newly-caught fish for Carlene to fry for dinner; standing behind me at the piano and singing hymns, in a voice that sounded like Jim Reeves....
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| About 20 years ago in this house Carlene and Lloyd |
 |
| About 22 years ago, Helotes |
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| 69 Years Ago, Holding Me |
I won't ever stop missing this man!
Saturday, July 28, 2018
Expedition Happiness
Looking for travel information, I stumbled upon this charming documentary on Netflix. An adorable young German couple and their puppy fly to New York, buy an old yellow school bus, spend three months fixing it up to live and travel in, then drive through Canada to Alaska.
I'm about midpoint in the film right now--they're heading south on Highway One, the Pacific Highway. They loved Banff--which I'm wanting to go back to myself--then had to stay a while in Vancouver to get joint surgery for Rudi, the dog.
Highly recommended if you love road tripping and wish you were young enough to see the whole world on wheels!
Speaking of which: so far, Betty and I have only begun to make our plans by email. When I mentioned England, she said just what I've been saying to myself: I don't know if we can drive on the other side of the road, the steering wheel on the side of the car I know as the passenger seat.
But I've watched a lot of British movies, and I've decided, "Yes, we can!"
After all, I drove all over Tuscany in a tiny car carrying three other women, Nellie and Amanda and Laurie. Of course, the roads and cars in Italy are like ours, but driving a straight shift car in rushing traffic, unable to read road signs, was a challenge, and I'm so glad I didn't pass it up. Those days of driving in Italy gave us all some unforgettable memories!
I'm about midpoint in the film right now--they're heading south on Highway One, the Pacific Highway. They loved Banff--which I'm wanting to go back to myself--then had to stay a while in Vancouver to get joint surgery for Rudi, the dog.
Highly recommended if you love road tripping and wish you were young enough to see the whole world on wheels!
Speaking of which: so far, Betty and I have only begun to make our plans by email. When I mentioned England, she said just what I've been saying to myself: I don't know if we can drive on the other side of the road, the steering wheel on the side of the car I know as the passenger seat.
But I've watched a lot of British movies, and I've decided, "Yes, we can!"
After all, I drove all over Tuscany in a tiny car carrying three other women, Nellie and Amanda and Laurie. Of course, the roads and cars in Italy are like ours, but driving a straight shift car in rushing traffic, unable to read road signs, was a challenge, and I'm so glad I didn't pass it up. Those days of driving in Italy gave us all some unforgettable memories!
Saturday
This morning Pam and I went to an exhibit of her friend's, the late-Alberto Mijangos ' paintings. It was my first outing of the week, not counting a couple of gym swims with Elena and driving them to the airport for their two-week Hawaii vacation.
While Pam and I were at the mercado, next to the museum, the kids called to FaceTime me and give me a guided tour of their condo and the beautiful view outside their windows. They are so excited!
When they woke up this morning, Elena said, "I can see Hawaii from my window!"
The museum was cool and quiet. Bustling outside were hundreds of tourists and a man loudly singing "God Bless the USA" and another man telling unfunny jokes pounding on the phrase, "If you don't work, you don't eat."
Behind the singer's stage was a glamorously-dressed woman of 83 sitting in a chair with stuffed animals attached to both sides. I asked if I could take her picture and she stood up and let me, telling me she was about to dance on the stage, using all the money she makes to contribute to cancer research. Had the weather been cooler and we'd both felt more energetic, we'd have stayed to watch her dance.
As it was, we chose a shady outside table and had lunch, then left. Here's pretty Pam at lunch:
Betty and I are cooking up some plans for a fall birthday trip, along the East Coast--and she has a friend who's offered us her house any time we want it in October. We're both ready to hit the road and find cooler air and fall leaves! Both in the If-Not-Now-When? phase of our lives, we may decide to hop on over the ocean and put our feet on UK soil.
We all need LFT's--Look Forward To's--and this is that for sure! Just thinking about it is easing me out of my summer slump!
While Pam and I were at the mercado, next to the museum, the kids called to FaceTime me and give me a guided tour of their condo and the beautiful view outside their windows. They are so excited!
When they woke up this morning, Elena said, "I can see Hawaii from my window!"
The museum was cool and quiet. Bustling outside were hundreds of tourists and a man loudly singing "God Bless the USA" and another man telling unfunny jokes pounding on the phrase, "If you don't work, you don't eat."
Behind the singer's stage was a glamorously-dressed woman of 83 sitting in a chair with stuffed animals attached to both sides. I asked if I could take her picture and she stood up and let me, telling me she was about to dance on the stage, using all the money she makes to contribute to cancer research. Had the weather been cooler and we'd both felt more energetic, we'd have stayed to watch her dance.
As it was, we chose a shady outside table and had lunch, then left. Here's pretty Pam at lunch:
This was my favorite of Alberto's paintings:
Betty and I are cooking up some plans for a fall birthday trip, along the East Coast--and she has a friend who's offered us her house any time we want it in October. We're both ready to hit the road and find cooler air and fall leaves! Both in the If-Not-Now-When? phase of our lives, we may decide to hop on over the ocean and put our feet on UK soil.
We all need LFT's--Look Forward To's--and this is that for sure! Just thinking about it is easing me out of my summer slump!
Friday, July 27, 2018
Educated--by Tara Westover
"...Refusing to give way to those who claim certainty, was a privilege I had never allowed myself. My life was narrated to me by others. Their voices were forceful, emphatic, absolute. It had never occurred to me that my voice might be as strong as theirs."
Tara Westover's memoir tells a compelling story--a story in which she was not allowed to be "brainwashed" by the government and attend public school, yet teaches herself algebra and trigonometry in order to pass the ACT test to get into college.
Her story is not my story--not by far--but there are strains that resonate with those of us whose stories we've not dared to write, or those who have cleaned up our stories and omitted the awful parts.
Tara was born in 1986, received no formal education until she was seventeen, and was dominated by the paranoia of her father who forced her to work on dangerous machinery in a junkyard when she was just a child. She's studied at Cambridge and received a Ph.D. from Harvard. Her most impressive accomplishment may be the courage to put her voice and story on the page in this unforgettable and powerful book.
Tara Westover's memoir tells a compelling story--a story in which she was not allowed to be "brainwashed" by the government and attend public school, yet teaches herself algebra and trigonometry in order to pass the ACT test to get into college.
Her story is not my story--not by far--but there are strains that resonate with those of us whose stories we've not dared to write, or those who have cleaned up our stories and omitted the awful parts.
Tara was born in 1986, received no formal education until she was seventeen, and was dominated by the paranoia of her father who forced her to work on dangerous machinery in a junkyard when she was just a child. She's studied at Cambridge and received a Ph.D. from Harvard. Her most impressive accomplishment may be the courage to put her voice and story on the page in this unforgettable and powerful book.
Thursday, July 26, 2018
Watermelon Days in Texas
Elena and I spent yesterday and today together--they leave tomorrow for Hawaii.
We did her manicure and pedicure yesterday, but looks like the swims got the better of both.
Wednesday, July 25, 2018
Rubbing Noses With A Possum
I just shared with Elena a story my dentist's fun British receptionist told all us patients in the waiting room.
She had been awakened in the middle of the night--by a possum, in her bed, rubbing noses with her!
Everyone in the waiting room was aghast--especially me--when she stretched the story out slowly to tell us how he had gotten in through the cat or dog door, gone up the stairs, past three other bedrooms, and snuggled in with her, his little possum nose against hers.
She was hysterical at the sight of a possum in her bed. She considered calling 911. She considered waking up a neighbor. Then she decided it was up to her to get him out--and she scooped him up in a towel and transported him back outdoors.
Finally, after he was safely back outside, she decided that her dogs and cats must have had a party and invited said possum and forgotten to tell him when it was time to leave!
Elena's reaction was entirely different from mine: "AWWWW! How cute!" she said. "I wish that would happen to me!"
She had been awakened in the middle of the night--by a possum, in her bed, rubbing noses with her!
Everyone in the waiting room was aghast--especially me--when she stretched the story out slowly to tell us how he had gotten in through the cat or dog door, gone up the stairs, past three other bedrooms, and snuggled in with her, his little possum nose against hers.
She was hysterical at the sight of a possum in her bed. She considered calling 911. She considered waking up a neighbor. Then she decided it was up to her to get him out--and she scooped him up in a towel and transported him back outdoors.
Finally, after he was safely back outside, she decided that her dogs and cats must have had a party and invited said possum and forgotten to tell him when it was time to leave!
Elena's reaction was entirely different from mine: "AWWWW! How cute!" she said. "I wish that would happen to me!"
Friday, July 20, 2018
Bluprint
Formerly called Craftsy, Bluprint is now up and running--a platform for online classes in everything from embroidery to photography to yoga!
Check it out!
Check it out!
I have been well and truly celebrated for turning 70 (three months early), so I'm going to consider it done--no more mention of decades!
My children and grands rented a great house in Horseshoe Bend near Marble Falls. It was perfect, right on the lake, so we kids of all ages stayed in the water most of the Wednesday, slathered with sun screen. At night, we cooked in and out and we went to a good Italian restaurant when our groceries ran out. The kids enjoyed Queer Eye so much that we watched four episodes together, played games, and Day and Elena and I made books and watercolored.
For the grand finale, they surprised me and the kids with a boat rental. Will said, "Mom, your boat is here," and I said, "Yeah, right!"
It was our favorite day, boating all day Wednesday and taking turns being pulled on a tube behind the boat. The boys were dramatic and showy on their fast rides, my turn was more slow and easy, but I did it!
I woke up this morning to a couple of minor glitches: the rear view mirror snapped off, so I drove (holding it in my hand as best I could) to VW, who said that the windshield company has to fix it which they will do tomorrow. I won't be driving again until its repaired, but it's triple-digit hot and I'm happy to stay home all day and unpack--but oh how I miss my kiddos!
Also, a big limb from the pecan tree is on my roof and power lines, so CPSP is chopping it off right now, but only the part that involves the power lines. Now I'm searching for a tree service to finish the job.
My children and grands rented a great house in Horseshoe Bend near Marble Falls. It was perfect, right on the lake, so we kids of all ages stayed in the water most of the Wednesday, slathered with sun screen. At night, we cooked in and out and we went to a good Italian restaurant when our groceries ran out. The kids enjoyed Queer Eye so much that we watched four episodes together, played games, and Day and Elena and I made books and watercolored.
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| Nathan and Marcus |
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| Daisy |
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| Veronica, me, Elena and Day |
For the grand finale, they surprised me and the kids with a boat rental. Will said, "Mom, your boat is here," and I said, "Yeah, right!"
It was our favorite day, boating all day Wednesday and taking turns being pulled on a tube behind the boat. The boys were dramatic and showy on their fast rides, my turn was more slow and easy, but I did it!
I woke up this morning to a couple of minor glitches: the rear view mirror snapped off, so I drove (holding it in my hand as best I could) to VW, who said that the windshield company has to fix it which they will do tomorrow. I won't be driving again until its repaired, but it's triple-digit hot and I'm happy to stay home all day and unpack--but oh how I miss my kiddos!
Also, a big limb from the pecan tree is on my roof and power lines, so CPSP is chopping it off right now, but only the part that involves the power lines. Now I'm searching for a tree service to finish the job.
Sunday, July 15, 2018
Saturday Night
What a fun night at the airport!--and dinner at El Mirador.
Elena just woke up and said, "Marcus and Nathan are best friends and that's how it is with Jackson and me."
Here are my stairstep Grand Kids:
One of my favorite things about their arrival: 13-year-old Marcus was traveling with Obamie, a stuffed animal that dates back to the Obama election! He's a unique kid--and a strong Democrat!
Here's we all are together at the airport:
Elena just woke up and said, "Marcus and Nathan are best friends and that's how it is with Jackson and me."
Here are my stairstep Grand Kids:
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| Marcus is now as tall as I am, and Jackson is taller than Uncle Will! |
One of my favorite things about their arrival: 13-year-old Marcus was traveling with Obamie, a stuffed animal that dates back to the Obama election! He's a unique kid--and a strong Democrat!
Friday, July 13, 2018
Bakers Joy
As a mostly-gluten-free eater, I don't make cakes very often--though I learned early on that cakes are the pathway to the hearts of men. I made a pound cake two weeks ago and greased the flute pan with coconut oil! Do not try this at home. The cake was edible, but had to be carved out of the pan.
So today I bought a product recommended by Pam--a spray called Bakers Joy. After my last fiasco, I couldn't wait to see if the cake would come out of the pan, and voila! it did, smooth as butter, this beautiful and golden pound cake made with whipping cream.
This cake--or a version very much like it-- was always my daddy's favorite and I made them for him anytime he asked--and tried not to eat all the batter. He liked it hot, right out of the oven, smeared with butter.
July is the month that he died, 17 years ago, and I thought about him, as I always do, with every cup of butter and sugar, every egg. I miss him every day. He met Jackson as an infant, but he didn't get to meet Marcus and Nathan and Elena. Elena says she remembers him from Heaven--which may be one reason she's so funny.
I just made the other cake that's a favorite in my family, a chocolate sheet cake. Elena says "all other cakes are gross" compared to it. Once, when Will had moved to a new fire station, I took one to the station for his birthday, only to find out that it was the wrong station.
So today I bought a product recommended by Pam--a spray called Bakers Joy. After my last fiasco, I couldn't wait to see if the cake would come out of the pan, and voila! it did, smooth as butter, this beautiful and golden pound cake made with whipping cream.
This cake--or a version very much like it-- was always my daddy's favorite and I made them for him anytime he asked--and tried not to eat all the batter. He liked it hot, right out of the oven, smeared with butter.
July is the month that he died, 17 years ago, and I thought about him, as I always do, with every cup of butter and sugar, every egg. I miss him every day. He met Jackson as an infant, but he didn't get to meet Marcus and Nathan and Elena. Elena says she remembers him from Heaven--which may be one reason she's so funny.
I just made the other cake that's a favorite in my family, a chocolate sheet cake. Elena says "all other cakes are gross" compared to it. Once, when Will had moved to a new fire station, I took one to the station for his birthday, only to find out that it was the wrong station.
Getting ready for a vacation with my kids and grandkids
I've just made a pound cake and cooked some butterbeans, cleaned the casita, watered my grass that needs mowing, and gone to three grocery stores to get my parts for our lake trip. After my nap, which is coming up as soon as I get Cake #1 out of the oven, I'll make meatballs for spaghetti and another cake.
When I was forty, maybe even fifty, I had a different kind of energy than I do as 70 is creeping up on me. I'm pooped!
But it's worth it to be pooped--as I am being treated by my kids to a lake house at Horseshoe Bend for a real vacation. I'll be ready. I bought myself my decade purchase of a new swimsuit and I'll be the one who looks like a ruffly turquoise balloon.
For those of you who do visual journals or travel journals, there's an excellent class at Craftsy: Expressive Pages, Journaling the Everyday by Judith Casel-Mamet.
I've watched this class this afternoon and packed my art supplies for activities for those who want to play with colors and paper bags and stencils--after days of swimming and kayaking.
When I was forty, maybe even fifty, I had a different kind of energy than I do as 70 is creeping up on me. I'm pooped!
But it's worth it to be pooped--as I am being treated by my kids to a lake house at Horseshoe Bend for a real vacation. I'll be ready. I bought myself my decade purchase of a new swimsuit and I'll be the one who looks like a ruffly turquoise balloon.
For those of you who do visual journals or travel journals, there's an excellent class at Craftsy: Expressive Pages, Journaling the Everyday by Judith Casel-Mamet.
I've watched this class this afternoon and packed my art supplies for activities for those who want to play with colors and paper bags and stencils--after days of swimming and kayaking.
Wednesday, July 11, 2018
Playing
A friend sent me this about an English pediatrician and psychotherapist (born 1896):
In contrast to the emphasis in orthodox psychoanalysis upon generating insight into unconscious processes, Winnicott considered that playing was the key to emotional and psychological well-being . By "playing," he meant not only the ways that children of all ages play, but also the way adults "play" through making art, or engaging in sports, hobbies, humour, meaningful conversation, et cetera. At any age, he saw play as crucial to the development of authentic selfhood, because when people play they feel real, spontaneous and alive, and keenly interested in what they're doing.
I'm all for playing! Yesterday friends met in Victoria's beautiful studio for a lesson in art journals. We had so much fun stamping and rubbing and drawing and watercoloring!
What playful things are you doing today?
In contrast to the emphasis in orthodox psychoanalysis upon generating insight into unconscious processes, Winnicott considered that playing was the key to emotional and psychological well-being . By "playing," he meant not only the ways that children of all ages play, but also the way adults "play" through making art, or engaging in sports, hobbies, humour, meaningful conversation, et cetera. At any age, he saw play as crucial to the development of authentic selfhood, because when people play they feel real, spontaneous and alive, and keenly interested in what they're doing.
I'm all for playing! Yesterday friends met in Victoria's beautiful studio for a lesson in art journals. We had so much fun stamping and rubbing and drawing and watercoloring!
What playful things are you doing today?
Little Beacons of Gorgeousness
I'm borrowing this phrase from Jonathan, the hair stylist in Queer Eye, who has a way with words.
Thanks to Pam's recommendation, I'm so enjoying Queer Eye on Netflix, the Fab Five going to different Georgia towns each episode to perform little miracles. Each of these guys specializes in one thing:living spaces, wardrobe, life coaching, hair and skin care, and cooking. They work together for a week to create changes in their willing subjects.
The final episode "ups the game" of the bearded young mayor of Clarkston, Georgia, the most racially and ethnically diverse small town in Georgia.
When the house is transformed, and the mayor's office turned into a beautiful grown-up one--not a corner of a messy guest room; when he learns to cook, updates his look, and improves his public speaking skills, he and the "mayoress" throw a dinner party for some visiting dignitaries.
While watching the dinner party from their Atlanta loft Jonathan says, "These are little beacons of gorgeousness!"
Every one of their subjects says, in essence, "You've shown me a whole new side of myself." Every one wants to pay it forward, share the love, and use what they've learned to make a difference.
To pull off such dramatic renovations, these guys must have a whole team of carpenters and painters and furniture delivery trucks, but we don't see them on screen.
It doesn't matter. Who doesn't like the illusion of a week of magic?
Thanks to Pam's recommendation, I'm so enjoying Queer Eye on Netflix, the Fab Five going to different Georgia towns each episode to perform little miracles. Each of these guys specializes in one thing:living spaces, wardrobe, life coaching, hair and skin care, and cooking. They work together for a week to create changes in their willing subjects.
The final episode "ups the game" of the bearded young mayor of Clarkston, Georgia, the most racially and ethnically diverse small town in Georgia.
When the house is transformed, and the mayor's office turned into a beautiful grown-up one--not a corner of a messy guest room; when he learns to cook, updates his look, and improves his public speaking skills, he and the "mayoress" throw a dinner party for some visiting dignitaries.
While watching the dinner party from their Atlanta loft Jonathan says, "These are little beacons of gorgeousness!"
Every one of their subjects says, in essence, "You've shown me a whole new side of myself." Every one wants to pay it forward, share the love, and use what they've learned to make a difference.
To pull off such dramatic renovations, these guys must have a whole team of carpenters and painters and furniture delivery trucks, but we don't see them on screen.
It doesn't matter. Who doesn't like the illusion of a week of magic?
Sunday, July 8, 2018
"The superior beauty of happiness"
I've done a lot of organizing of old photographs this year--so much so that it's been like watching a jerky movie of my life, back and forthing over my seven decades and before I was born. I sent off a box of old photos and slides to a company called Southtree in Chattanooga, and yesterday I got back a thumb drive half the length of my little finger with a thousand photos on it!
With "three score and ten" rapidly approaching and with almost everyone I know experiencing pesky reminders that the body is aging, it's impossible not to know that we have way less time ahead of us than behind us.
And yet: I feel very happy and peaceful most of the time, and I'm enjoying the luxury of learning new things and reading and being with people I love dearly. My children and grandchildren have rented a lake house at LBJ next week for the nine of us to celebrate my birthday early. I can hardly wait to see them again all in one place, my camera poised to capture memories they will look back on with pleasure, I hope, when they are old,
The French writer, Andre Gide, was thinking similar thoughts as he wrote these words. He wrote as if death were imminent, yet he lived another thirty years!
Thanks to Maria at Brainpickings, these and other reflections on age showed up in my inbox this morning.
With "three score and ten" rapidly approaching and with almost everyone I know experiencing pesky reminders that the body is aging, it's impossible not to know that we have way less time ahead of us than behind us.
And yet: I feel very happy and peaceful most of the time, and I'm enjoying the luxury of learning new things and reading and being with people I love dearly. My children and grandchildren have rented a lake house at LBJ next week for the nine of us to celebrate my birthday early. I can hardly wait to see them again all in one place, my camera poised to capture memories they will look back on with pleasure, I hope, when they are old,
The French writer, Andre Gide, was thinking similar thoughts as he wrote these words. He wrote as if death were imminent, yet he lived another thirty years!
Age cannot manage to empty either sensual pleasure of its attractiveness or the whole world of its charm. On the contrary, I was more easily disgusted at twenty, and I was less satisfied with life. I embraced less boldly; I breathed less deeply; and I felt myself to be less loved. Perhaps also I longed to be melancholy; I had not yet understood the superior beauty of happiness.
Two weeks later, Gide examines the passage of time from another angle — one grimmer at first blush but deeply enlivening in its ultimate reorientation:
The thought of death pursues me with a strange insistence. Every time I make a gesture, I calculate: how many times already? I compute: how many times more? and full of despair, I feel the turn of the year rushing toward me. And as I measure how the water is withdrawing around me, my thirst increases and I feel younger in proportion to the little time that remains to me to feel it.
Thanks to Maria at Brainpickings, these and other reflections on age showed up in my inbox this morning.
Saturday, July 7, 2018
Still Life With Breadcrumbs
Writing about a failed marriage is hard to get right, but Anna Quindlen gets it so right in Still Life With Breadcrumbs:
"Her marriage had been like a new silk dress, so beautiful and undulating, except that after a while the edges of the sleeves gray, there is a spot of wine, the hem drags. If the love affair with Peter had stopped after six months it would have been a gorgeous memorable thing. But in love no one ever leaves well enough alone, and so it settles into a strange unsatisfactory kind of friendship or sours into mutual recriminations and regret, the dress pushed to the back of the closet, limp, and so unnew, embalmed in plastic because of what it once was."
A photographer, Rebecca moves away from New York at sixty and rents a house in a small town. It's been years since her divorce, but memories of it weave throughout her story--just as memories of broken marriages inevitably weave throughout anybody's real life.
Anna Quindlen gets everything right in this book--the labyrinthine mind of a sixty-year-old woman on her own, worries about money, caring for her parents (her mother doesn't know her anymore) and meeting the people of the town in which she's rented a sad little house to save money for the care of her parents and herself. The writing is compelling. This is the kind of book a writer-reader wants to make one like--a book that you can't put down, that keeps you turning pages.
The townspeople are so vividly described that you think, I would know these people if I met them anywhere. The roofer, the bakery-owner, the clown who really wanted to be a singer, the dog, the beauty shop and bar people, Rebecca, the photographer--I'm writing this to postpone the reading of the last few pages because I don't want to let them go.
"Her marriage had been like a new silk dress, so beautiful and undulating, except that after a while the edges of the sleeves gray, there is a spot of wine, the hem drags. If the love affair with Peter had stopped after six months it would have been a gorgeous memorable thing. But in love no one ever leaves well enough alone, and so it settles into a strange unsatisfactory kind of friendship or sours into mutual recriminations and regret, the dress pushed to the back of the closet, limp, and so unnew, embalmed in plastic because of what it once was."
A photographer, Rebecca moves away from New York at sixty and rents a house in a small town. It's been years since her divorce, but memories of it weave throughout her story--just as memories of broken marriages inevitably weave throughout anybody's real life.
Anna Quindlen gets everything right in this book--the labyrinthine mind of a sixty-year-old woman on her own, worries about money, caring for her parents (her mother doesn't know her anymore) and meeting the people of the town in which she's rented a sad little house to save money for the care of her parents and herself. The writing is compelling. This is the kind of book a writer-reader wants to make one like--a book that you can't put down, that keeps you turning pages.
The townspeople are so vividly described that you think, I would know these people if I met them anywhere. The roofer, the bakery-owner, the clown who really wanted to be a singer, the dog, the beauty shop and bar people, Rebecca, the photographer--I'm writing this to postpone the reading of the last few pages because I don't want to let them go.
Friday, July 6, 2018
Lily
I was all set to go to noon yoga with Jan today, but I woke up and realized that I have sausage fingers due to my gluttony with gluten. (I thought the rule wouldn't apply since it was a holiday and all--cake at writing group, pizza with Elena, bread at Jan's, bread last night at Bonnie's birthday dinner.). I know better, but sometimes we humans need remediation and reminders.
I decided to pop in for a quick pedicure--and my favorite nail tech said no problem, I could make it to yoga. I took Jan's book (I'm loving Bread Crumbs by Anna Quindlen) and proceeded to read, holding up the book conspicuously to avoid talking--which I actually usually enjoy.
Lily is not to be ignored, however. She has stories to tell, questions to ask. She told me that when her daughter turns 21, she's going to go every Sunday to nursing homes to give free pedicures. She told me that she does that every Mother's Day. She loves her work and she loves her people.
I've tried others, but she's the best in town. A massage to the neck, cheerful massages to the feet, and soft music playing--not to mention the quality of her work--makes her my all-time favorite.
She has a heart for people. "My grandfather in China--he took such good care of dead people. And living people, too. Like he used to write letters for Chinese ladies who couldn't write, letters to their families in the U.S. Chinese ladies couldn't get education in those days."
So I surrendered to massage and conversation and left an hour and half later feeling as if I'd gone to yoga after all!
I decided to pop in for a quick pedicure--and my favorite nail tech said no problem, I could make it to yoga. I took Jan's book (I'm loving Bread Crumbs by Anna Quindlen) and proceeded to read, holding up the book conspicuously to avoid talking--which I actually usually enjoy.
Lily is not to be ignored, however. She has stories to tell, questions to ask. She told me that when her daughter turns 21, she's going to go every Sunday to nursing homes to give free pedicures. She told me that she does that every Mother's Day. She loves her work and she loves her people.
I've tried others, but she's the best in town. A massage to the neck, cheerful massages to the feet, and soft music playing--not to mention the quality of her work--makes her my all-time favorite.
She has a heart for people. "My grandfather in China--he took such good care of dead people. And living people, too. Like he used to write letters for Chinese ladies who couldn't write, letters to their families in the U.S. Chinese ladies couldn't get education in those days."
So I surrendered to massage and conversation and left an hour and half later feeling as if I'd gone to yoga after all!
Hand-lettering class on Craftsy
This is the kind of class you can find on Craftsy--on thousands of topics. The teacher is very good (and handsome) and he gives you an ebook to download with under Class Materials.
Thursday, July 5, 2018
"Every act of communication is an act of tremendous courage in which we give ourselves over to two parallel possibilities: the possibility of planting into another mind a seed sprouted in ours and watching it blossom into a breathtaking flower of mutual understanding; and the possibility of being wholly misunderstood, reduced to a withering weed.
Candor and clarity go a long way in fertilizing the soil, but in the end there is always a degree of unpredictability in the climate of communication — even the warmest intention can be met with frost.
Yet something impels us to hold these possibilities in both hands and go on surrendering to the beauty and terror of conversation, that ancient and abiding human gift.
And the most magical thing, the most sacred thing, is that whichever the outcome, we end up having transformed one another in this vulnerable-making process of speaking and listening."
https://mailchi.mp/brainpickings/midweek-pick-me-up-ursula-k-le-guin-on-the-magic-of-real-human-conversation?e=7940cd5ca2
Candor and clarity go a long way in fertilizing the soil, but in the end there is always a degree of unpredictability in the climate of communication — even the warmest intention can be met with frost.
Yet something impels us to hold these possibilities in both hands and go on surrendering to the beauty and terror of conversation, that ancient and abiding human gift.
And the most magical thing, the most sacred thing, is that whichever the outcome, we end up having transformed one another in this vulnerable-making process of speaking and listening."
https://mailchi.mp/brainpickings/midweek-pick-me-up-ursula-k-le-guin-on-the-magic-of-real-human-conversation?e=7940cd5ca2
Wednesday, July 4, 2018
A yo-yo story from Carlene
Many years ago, I gave Carlene a yo-yo quilt I found at an antiques store. Yesterday, on the one-year anniversary of Mary Elizabeth's house, she passed it on to Mary Elizabeth.
Here's the Yo-Yo story, written by Nana:
For several weeks - even months - I have thought about 3 treasures stored in the blue trunk in my bedroom - a very special gift from you - the yo-yo quilt, the cathedral window quilt and the bedspread I crocheted years ago ( to fend off some grief, but I don’t remember which one).
I wanted someone to have them who would love them, and treasure them like I had - and remember where/who they came from.
I had never mentioned them to M.E.
So it took me by surprise when we came on from lunch and she was asking me about Day’s quilted pillow on the sofa and was interested in hearing about her special space for her quilting and questions about the round tablecloth....
Then she told me how she always loved that quilt made out of little circles!!! Wish you could have seen her face when I asked her if she would like to have it! When I went to my BR to get it and handed it to her,I told her how it had been a gift from you, purchased from an antique store lots of years ago, etc. and that I couldn’t part with .. until Now!
I also told her I thought you would be happy for her to have it.At lunch she said she had celebrated her first year anniversary in her house so I gave it to her for an anniversary present from us--and I took the picture and asked her to send it to you!
And that is how the yo yo quilt went to its new home!
Here's the Yo-Yo story, written by Nana:
For several weeks - even months - I have thought about 3 treasures stored in the blue trunk in my bedroom - a very special gift from you - the yo-yo quilt, the cathedral window quilt and the bedspread I crocheted years ago ( to fend off some grief, but I don’t remember which one).
I wanted someone to have them who would love them, and treasure them like I had - and remember where/who they came from.
I had never mentioned them to M.E.
So it took me by surprise when we came on from lunch and she was asking me about Day’s quilted pillow on the sofa and was interested in hearing about her special space for her quilting and questions about the round tablecloth....
Then she told me how she always loved that quilt made out of little circles!!! Wish you could have seen her face when I asked her if she would like to have it! When I went to my BR to get it and handed it to her,I told her how it had been a gift from you, purchased from an antique store lots of years ago, etc. and that I couldn’t part with .. until Now!
I also told her I thought you would be happy for her to have it.At lunch she said she had celebrated her first year anniversary in her house so I gave it to her for an anniversary present from us--and I took the picture and asked her to send it to you!
And that is how the yo yo quilt went to its new home!
A fun and delicious Fourth!
I went to Jan and Kate's for an amazingly delicious brisket meal, corn on the cob, beans, yummy bread, and a salad with blueberries and watermelon and Feta cheese. I can't remember a more relaxed and Fun 4th!
These two boys are unique and wonderful!
Sebastien was born in Japan, Makken in the Middle East--and as they were telling us about their two days in Austin and a sushi bar a Japanese bookstore they all love, Makken started speaking Japanese!
Makken is usually very quiet and a little shy, but he's always paying attention and absorbing everything--and then voila! out comes something brilliant and surprising. Sebastien is contributing to a neighborhood newspaper a friend is putting out one street over and he told me how to make ice cream in a zip-lock bag!
There were only six of us--just the kind of party I like!
Lanelle, Jan's friend for years, came and we wound up staying three hours, eating, laughing, and sharing stories.
These two boys are unique and wonderful!
Sebastien was born in Japan, Makken in the Middle East--and as they were telling us about their two days in Austin and a sushi bar a Japanese bookstore they all love, Makken started speaking Japanese!
Makken is usually very quiet and a little shy, but he's always paying attention and absorbing everything--and then voila! out comes something brilliant and surprising. Sebastien is contributing to a neighborhood newspaper a friend is putting out one street over and he told me how to make ice cream in a zip-lock bag!
There were only six of us--just the kind of party I like!
Lanelle, Jan's friend for years, came and we wound up staying three hours, eating, laughing, and sharing stories.
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| Sebastien, Kate and Magical Makken |
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| Makken, Sophie the cat, and Sebastien |
A poem by Mary Oliver, July 4th
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| photo and poem sent by Improvised Life |
Bone July 4, 2010
1.
Understand, I am always trying to figure out
What the soul is,
And where hidden,
And what shape-
And so, last week,
When I found on the beach
The ear bone
Of a pilot whale that may have died
Hundreds of years ago, I thought
Maybe I was close
To discovering something-
For the ear bone
2.
Is the portion that lasts longest
In any of us, man or whale…
And I thought: the soul
Might be like this-
So hard, so necessary-
3.
Yet almost nothing
Beside me
The gray sea
Was opening and shutting its wave-doors..
I looked but couldn’t see anything
Through its dark-knit glare;
Yet don’t we all know, the golden sand
Is there at the bottom,
Though our eyes have never seen it,
Nor can our hands ever catch it.
4.
Lest we would sift it down
Into fractions, and facts-
Certainties-
And what the soul is, also
I believe I will never quite know.
Though I play at the edges of knowing,
Truly I know
Our part is not knowing,
But looking, and touching, and loving,
Which is the way I walked on,
Softly,
Through the pale-pink morning light.
Monday, July 2, 2018
From the Rivard Report online
As thousands in cities across the nation assembled Saturday in protest of immigration policies that have separated families at the United States-Mexico border, several hundred gathered in San Antonio’s Main Plaza to call for reuniting immigrant parents with their children.
“My heart is broken. I can’t believe this is the U.S.A.,” said Pam Bryant, a RAICESvolunteer who brought her grandsons to the “Families Belong Together” Day of Action rally.
Here's Pam--speaking out, taking supplies for immigrant parents and children, and introducing her grandsons, Ben and William, to activism when it matters most!
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| Three-year-old William |
Green Smoothies
Here's a class you might like on Udemy: The Essentials of Making Green Smoothies--a very comprehensive and detailed class on the whys and hows of making nutritious smoothies, along with lots of recipes you can download.
I'm going outside now to pick some green chard and mix it with a banana, some berries and some pre-soaked almonds and cashews, along with a tablespoon of flax seeds.
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