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| Bonnie and Marcus Opening Christmas presents |
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| My two grown up guys, Will and Tom |
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| Day teaching Elena how to do Punch Needle, Day's newest craft. The flower in the foreground was made by Elena |
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| Sweet Nathan |
Monday, December 30, 2019
Virginia Part 2
Christmas in Georgia and Virginia
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| Bob and Jocelyn |
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| Carlene opening her new iPad |
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| Carlene, Jocelyn, Bob and Micah |
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| One of the highlights of Virginia, all of us taking turns riding around in Jackson's new BMW |
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| He's so proud of his new car--which he's working on for participating in Drift events |
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| Will, Day, Carlene, and Bonnie |
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| Day's newest quilt-in-progress All houses--I love it! |
Monday, December 23, 2019
December 23
Happy Holidays, Happy Hanukkah, and Merry Christmas to all my friends and family!
Kasia, the Polish/British teacher of one of the Wanderlust classes, advised making a list of every gift of 2019--which I think is a good idea. "What are the gifts of the past year? And what do you want to take forward into 2020?"
Two unexpected gifts of December 23rd:
My Uber driver in San Antonio was uniquely charming and colorful. He drove a red car, wore black and white shoes a red vest, a bow tie, and a white suit with green bling. He gave me his number so I can call him directly for future airport runs. Meeting him in his Christmas attire (at 4 a.m) was a wonderful way to start this trip!
On his rearview mirror hung a string of Christmas lights and a turquoise rosary.
My Atlanta Uber driver, Jeremy Ford, has just completed his master's degree in communications at Morehouse College. He's produced a documentary, funded by Sundance, called "Nana's Kitchen" (currently showing in the African American Smithsonian in Washington, D.C.) about his grandmother's cooking and the history of soul food.
Kasia, the Polish/British teacher of one of the Wanderlust classes, advised making a list of every gift of 2019--which I think is a good idea. "What are the gifts of the past year? And what do you want to take forward into 2020?"
Two unexpected gifts of December 23rd:
My Uber driver in San Antonio was uniquely charming and colorful. He drove a red car, wore black and white shoes a red vest, a bow tie, and a white suit with green bling. He gave me his number so I can call him directly for future airport runs. Meeting him in his Christmas attire (at 4 a.m) was a wonderful way to start this trip!
On his rearview mirror hung a string of Christmas lights and a turquoise rosary.
Sunday, December 22, 2019
Moonstruck
In 1987, when Cher starred in Moonstruck, the Twin Towers still shone in the light of the big moon.
It's a bit eery to see them as they were, knowing now what we know in their absence, the day the world as we knew it changed.
Travelers didn't go through security at airports in 1987. They carry bulky suitcases and walk right up to the gates. Friends and family sit with travelers sometimes, as mine did, when we tearfully parted and euphorically greeted each other on arrival.
I loved this movie when I saw it in 1987, still do all these years later--but I hadn't seen it in the intervening years. Loretta and her Italian family and friends believed in good luck and bad luck. They mostly told each other the truth--even if belatedly in one or two cases. And when the moon hit the sky like a big pizza pie, we all know that spelled amore.
"Do you love him?" Loretta's mother asked her when she fell in love with Ronny, the younger brother of her fiancé.
"I love him awful!" she replied.
When the mother asked the same question earlier, when Loretta announced that she was betrothed to the older brother, Loretta simply said, "No."
"That's good," her mother said. "It works out better when you don't love them."
It's a bit eery to see them as they were, knowing now what we know in their absence, the day the world as we knew it changed.
Travelers didn't go through security at airports in 1987. They carry bulky suitcases and walk right up to the gates. Friends and family sit with travelers sometimes, as mine did, when we tearfully parted and euphorically greeted each other on arrival.
I loved this movie when I saw it in 1987, still do all these years later--but I hadn't seen it in the intervening years. Loretta and her Italian family and friends believed in good luck and bad luck. They mostly told each other the truth--even if belatedly in one or two cases. And when the moon hit the sky like a big pizza pie, we all know that spelled amore.
"Do you love him?" Loretta's mother asked her when she fell in love with Ronny, the younger brother of her fiancé.
"I love him awful!" she replied.
When the mother asked the same question earlier, when Loretta announced that she was betrothed to the older brother, Loretta simply said, "No."
"That's good," her mother said. "It works out better when you don't love them."
Friday, December 20, 2019
What We Want
What we want
is never simple.
We move among the things
we thought we wanted:
a face, a room, an open book
and these things bear our names--
now they want us.
But what we want appears
in dreams, wearing disguises.
We fall past,
holding out our arms
and in the morning
our arms ache.
We don't remember the dream,
but the dream remembers us.
It is there all day
as an animal is there
under the table,
as the stars are there
even in full sun.
Linda Pastan
Thursday, December 19, 2019
Extroverts and Introverts
At breakfast at Supper, Kate and Charlotte and I were talking about the differences between the two. An extrovert--like Kate--is energized by parties and people, though she does like her solitary time. Charlotte and I are both card-carrying introverts, though we enjoy people, too, just not too many at one time.
If I hear the word, party, I shrink with dread--as all card-carrying introverts probably do. I know--from 71 years of experience-- that my mode a la party is to find one or two people to talk to. But when the entire group is gathered around a table or seated in a conversational circle, I'm likely not to contribute a single conversational gem or joke.
I like gatherings--like writing group--in which there's something to do besides talking. I feel I can pretty much hold my own if we're talking about what we're writing, but when the conversation slides to other topics, I'm perfectly happy listening.
In my family, Carlene and Will are extroverts, the life-of-the-party variety. They can jump right in in any crowd and tell funny stories and make conversation with twenty people at once. Elena is an extrovert. When she found out that other kids got to school half an hour earlier than she did, she insisted on getting up early so as not to miss a single potential new friend.
To the prospect of trying to be a party girl of that sort, Charlotte said, "Just give me a stick in the eye!" I feel exactly the same.
A guest list of four or five people who know each other well--that's a whole other kettle of fish, small enough not to be scary.
I always wanted to be one of those life-of-the-party types. Extroversion seems favored over introversion in our culture. But at some point, it's futile to try to be anyone but who we are, some innies, some outies, and some able to flex comfortably back and forth.
If I hear the word, party, I shrink with dread--as all card-carrying introverts probably do. I know--from 71 years of experience-- that my mode a la party is to find one or two people to talk to. But when the entire group is gathered around a table or seated in a conversational circle, I'm likely not to contribute a single conversational gem or joke.
I like gatherings--like writing group--in which there's something to do besides talking. I feel I can pretty much hold my own if we're talking about what we're writing, but when the conversation slides to other topics, I'm perfectly happy listening.
In my family, Carlene and Will are extroverts, the life-of-the-party variety. They can jump right in in any crowd and tell funny stories and make conversation with twenty people at once. Elena is an extrovert. When she found out that other kids got to school half an hour earlier than she did, she insisted on getting up early so as not to miss a single potential new friend.
To the prospect of trying to be a party girl of that sort, Charlotte said, "Just give me a stick in the eye!" I feel exactly the same.
A guest list of four or five people who know each other well--that's a whole other kettle of fish, small enough not to be scary.
I always wanted to be one of those life-of-the-party types. Extroversion seems favored over introversion in our culture. But at some point, it's futile to try to be anyone but who we are, some innies, some outies, and some able to flex comfortably back and forth.
Wednesday, December 18, 2019
Typed Stories
The typewriter has become a bargaining chip: Both kids love typing so much that they'll do whatever they are asked to do so that they can get on to the keyboard!
Tuesday Night
The traffic was thick between my house and Helotes, my former hometown. I was twenty minutes late, but only missed the opening song of the Christmas pageant. The cafeteria stage was full of elves and reindeer and one jolly Santa, the second graders singing along the rim of the stage. Cameras and cell phones were flashing. Parents and grandparents beamed.
Coincidentally, this was also the 78th birthday of my children's dad, so we all went to El Chaparral together for dinner after the pageant.
What used to feel strained between us has ironed itself out enough that we can share a table. As he told about our early days in Helotes, I chimed in from time to time, a story duet. Yes, Helotes was a two-lane road back then, no stores to speak of outside Loop 410. Yes, the Cornyval was a tiny little street fair back then, not a huge fair drawing thousands. Yes, there was that time when such and such happened. Facts all.
It was, after all, many years ago that we were still married, still frozen in a dance that never worked. Now we share children and grandchildren, seldom at the same time, and well-worn-from-the-telling memories.
I was kind of bittersweet-happy driving home, that for the sake of our shared children and grands, we pulled off a shared birthday meal, at opposite ends of the table. It hasn't always been that way.
Coincidentally, this was also the 78th birthday of my children's dad, so we all went to El Chaparral together for dinner after the pageant.
What used to feel strained between us has ironed itself out enough that we can share a table. As he told about our early days in Helotes, I chimed in from time to time, a story duet. Yes, Helotes was a two-lane road back then, no stores to speak of outside Loop 410. Yes, the Cornyval was a tiny little street fair back then, not a huge fair drawing thousands. Yes, there was that time when such and such happened. Facts all.
It was, after all, many years ago that we were still married, still frozen in a dance that never worked. Now we share children and grandchildren, seldom at the same time, and well-worn-from-the-telling memories.
I was kind of bittersweet-happy driving home, that for the sake of our shared children and grands, we pulled off a shared birthday meal, at opposite ends of the table. It hasn't always been that way.
Monday, December 16, 2019
Sunday, December 15, 2019
We had Christmas lunch on the porch--what a beautiful day!
Our kids played with Kate's kids, then we opened presents. Seldom does a giver of a gift get such an enthusiastic response as I got with the vintage typewriter and table. Elena screeched and jumped up and down and started typing right away. Her first words: "Best Day Ever!"
Nathan is more moderate in his response and wasn't off-the-charts thrilled with his books--but he liked his Legos and put two whole sets together during the rest of the afternoon. Watching his sister jump up and down, he said, "Girls are nuts!"
Pam came by for a visit--as did Kate and Jan and the boys. Will and Veronica learned so much from Kate--who lived in Japan for five years. They now have a better sense of what they want to do this summer when they go there for two weeks.
All around, I couldn't have had a better first-Christmas of 2019.
Our kids played with Kate's kids, then we opened presents. Seldom does a giver of a gift get such an enthusiastic response as I got with the vintage typewriter and table. Elena screeched and jumped up and down and started typing right away. Her first words: "Best Day Ever!"
Nathan is more moderate in his response and wasn't off-the-charts thrilled with his books--but he liked his Legos and put two whole sets together during the rest of the afternoon. Watching his sister jump up and down, he said, "Girls are nuts!"
Pam came by for a visit--as did Kate and Jan and the boys. Will and Veronica learned so much from Kate--who lived in Japan for five years. They now have a better sense of what they want to do this summer when they go there for two weeks.
All around, I couldn't have had a better first-Christmas of 2019.
Tell Me Who I Am (Netflix)
A documentary about twin boys, now men, one of whom lost his memory in a tragic motorcycle accident at the age of 18.
In trying to protect his twin, one of the boys held back the haunting truths of their childhood. In telling his brother happy stories about their life before the accident, he, himself, almost came to believe those made-up stories were true.
This is a riveting true story--about truth and truth-telling and the old adage that the truth, even when it's horrible, can make people free, hard as it is to tell, hard as it is to hear.
In trying to protect his twin, one of the boys held back the haunting truths of their childhood. In telling his brother happy stories about their life before the accident, he, himself, almost came to believe those made-up stories were true.
This is a riveting true story--about truth and truth-telling and the old adage that the truth, even when it's horrible, can make people free, hard as it is to tell, hard as it is to hear.
Saturday, December 14, 2019
My Christmas Eve trip #3 to Central Market
Tomorrow is Christmas at my house--an early Christmas for the Helotes bunch and me. It it's as warm and beautiful as it was today, we will eat lunch on the porch. I've already hopefully covered the table with a rose table cloth.
The first trip this morning was to get the pecan pie for Nathan and ingredients for poppy seed chicken, one of his favorites.
The second trip was to get the things I forgot--as was the third, because my menu changed a bit and I decided to make a pea salad.
On the final trip, they were giving samples of everything from apple cider to sausage to salads. I love Central Market, I do. It makes me feel festive to just walk in the door. The smells, the music, the samples, the people.
Here's Maple Roasted Sweet Potato and Pear Salad Boats--which I had to run all around the store to find ingredients for:
2 sweet potatoes, easy peasy
2-4 pears, cored and diced--also easy, as she told me she uses Bosc pears
1 finely chopped shallot
Vinegar--sherry, white condiment, rose champagne, etc. (This took a while, but I settled on white with herbs)
Extra virgin olive oil. (Another customer and I agreed that the one in the white bottle was amazing, so I spent--for the first time ever--$18 on a bottle of it and it's going to be my daily ingredient on everything.)
TREES KNEES SPICY MAPLE SYRUP: Whoever heard of spicy syrup--but it is absolutely delicious.
salt and pepper
For serving: Fresh Belgian Endive. (again, first time purchase) individual leaves washed and dried
and about 1/2 cup coarsely chopped walnuts.
Optional: Plain Ellenos Greek Yogurt (which I didn't get)
Toss the potatoes with olive oil, shallot, salt and pepper. Spread out on parchment paper in a pan. Drizzle with syrup and roast until tender.
Toss the pear with vinegar and season and set aside.
When the potatoes are done, allow them to cool a bit before tossing with the pears. Taste and adjust seasoning as desired.
To serve: spoon salad into individual endive leaves and arrange on a serving platter. If using yogurt, put some of that on top of each boat and garnish with walnuts.
The first trip this morning was to get the pecan pie for Nathan and ingredients for poppy seed chicken, one of his favorites.
The second trip was to get the things I forgot--as was the third, because my menu changed a bit and I decided to make a pea salad.
On the final trip, they were giving samples of everything from apple cider to sausage to salads. I love Central Market, I do. It makes me feel festive to just walk in the door. The smells, the music, the samples, the people.
Here's Maple Roasted Sweet Potato and Pear Salad Boats--which I had to run all around the store to find ingredients for:
2 sweet potatoes, easy peasy
2-4 pears, cored and diced--also easy, as she told me she uses Bosc pears
1 finely chopped shallot
Vinegar--sherry, white condiment, rose champagne, etc. (This took a while, but I settled on white with herbs)
Extra virgin olive oil. (Another customer and I agreed that the one in the white bottle was amazing, so I spent--for the first time ever--$18 on a bottle of it and it's going to be my daily ingredient on everything.)
TREES KNEES SPICY MAPLE SYRUP: Whoever heard of spicy syrup--but it is absolutely delicious.
salt and pepper
For serving: Fresh Belgian Endive. (again, first time purchase) individual leaves washed and dried
and about 1/2 cup coarsely chopped walnuts.
Optional: Plain Ellenos Greek Yogurt (which I didn't get)
Toss the potatoes with olive oil, shallot, salt and pepper. Spread out on parchment paper in a pan. Drizzle with syrup and roast until tender.
Toss the pear with vinegar and season and set aside.
When the potatoes are done, allow them to cool a bit before tossing with the pears. Taste and adjust seasoning as desired.
To serve: spoon salad into individual endive leaves and arrange on a serving platter. If using yogurt, put some of that on top of each boat and garnish with walnuts.
Friday, December 13, 2019
Friday the 13th
We have a tradition in our family of calling each other on our birthdays, and yesterday was my sweetest-ever son-in-law's 50th!
I just woke up to a thank-you-for-the gift text from Tom and realized I had snoozed during the dinner hour and didn't wake up til 2:00. What? It's not December 12th anymore? I missed it?
The second thought: "Where is it?"--the "it" being the pain in my legs that has woken me at two in the morning for weeks. So I get to bypass the middle-of-the-night hot pad and pills. Yay!
My very-young orthopedist, Dr. Skunda, had given me a cortisone shot in each knee--and had advised me not to take the oral steroids awaiting pick-up at Central Market. "These go straight into the knee where you need them," he said--as I was making appropriate sound effects at the intrusion of a needle in the knee.
I asked if I could have copies of the x-rays he had on the screen, so now I have some photos I might use on my annual Christmas cards, if I did annual Christmas cards!
I also asked, "If I had been more athletic in my youth, might I have prevented this?"
Actually, he said, some athletics are hard on the knees and contribute to arthritis, so no. It's genetic, apparently, or random, who knows? Whatever it is, it's temporarily silenced and I can gratefully get on with the holidays!
After the shots, I was woozy. Pam offered to pick me up but instead I met her at Dry Dock for yummy fried shrimp, then came home and fell asleep. I'm new to Dry Dock, but plan on being a regular. My taste buds pronounced it way better than Sea Island and other local shrimperies.
I just woke up to a thank-you-for-the gift text from Tom and realized I had snoozed during the dinner hour and didn't wake up til 2:00. What? It's not December 12th anymore? I missed it?
The second thought: "Where is it?"--the "it" being the pain in my legs that has woken me at two in the morning for weeks. So I get to bypass the middle-of-the-night hot pad and pills. Yay!
My very-young orthopedist, Dr. Skunda, had given me a cortisone shot in each knee--and had advised me not to take the oral steroids awaiting pick-up at Central Market. "These go straight into the knee where you need them," he said--as I was making appropriate sound effects at the intrusion of a needle in the knee.
I asked if I could have copies of the x-rays he had on the screen, so now I have some photos I might use on my annual Christmas cards, if I did annual Christmas cards!
I also asked, "If I had been more athletic in my youth, might I have prevented this?"
Actually, he said, some athletics are hard on the knees and contribute to arthritis, so no. It's genetic, apparently, or random, who knows? Whatever it is, it's temporarily silenced and I can gratefully get on with the holidays!
After the shots, I was woozy. Pam offered to pick me up but instead I met her at Dry Dock for yummy fried shrimp, then came home and fell asleep. I'm new to Dry Dock, but plan on being a regular. My taste buds pronounced it way better than Sea Island and other local shrimperies.
Tuesday, December 10, 2019
Tuesday
Just got back from a band concert at Garcia Middle School--where our little drummer boy, Nathan, played Christmas music in the concert band.
Still Making Things
Some things I make are disappointments. The size or scale is wrong, the paper is wrong, or the design is unremarkable. Or all three.... plus Je Ne Sais Pas.
And yet, I keep going. I paint over or throw away. I'm the only judge and jury in this house. Failures are inevitable, but punishment is inconsequential.
Thomas Edison said, "I haven't failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work."
(Not that what I'm creating is on the scale of what Edison did, but still....)
Every idea I've ever woken up in the night planning has been done before and much better than what I could do (yet), but I keep going.
I try again. I puzzle over possibilities when I'm doing other things. I attempt a particular technique over and over in hopes of mastering just this one little bit.
It's exhilarating when a page or a project works out so well that you, yourself, the creator of it, want to look at it when you get up in the middle of the night.
Overall, the best part--probably so in any endeavor--is not the product but the process, the all-absorbing process of doing and stretching outside a comfort zone and learning for one's own self what works.
And yet, I keep going. I paint over or throw away. I'm the only judge and jury in this house. Failures are inevitable, but punishment is inconsequential.
Thomas Edison said, "I haven't failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work."
(Not that what I'm creating is on the scale of what Edison did, but still....)
Every idea I've ever woken up in the night planning has been done before and much better than what I could do (yet), but I keep going.
I try again. I puzzle over possibilities when I'm doing other things. I attempt a particular technique over and over in hopes of mastering just this one little bit.
It's exhilarating when a page or a project works out so well that you, yourself, the creator of it, want to look at it when you get up in the middle of the night.
Overall, the best part--probably so in any endeavor--is not the product but the process, the all-absorbing process of doing and stretching outside a comfort zone and learning for one's own self what works.
Monday, December 9, 2019
Limited visibility
Thick fog this morning is like natural Gesso, whiting out everything but the Christmas lights in yards and on Broadway, as I drive toward and then down Austin Highway.
The neon orange pegasus atop a shop at the corner of Broadway and Austin Highway. White lights draping from trees. Lights starting to come on in houses, people stretching and making breakfast. A few early morning dog walkers.
I hear on NPR that visibility is limited to about a hundred yards and people are advised to leave early for work.
I love this season in San Antonio!
***
Every morning, between 2:15 and 3:15, I wake up with my leg hurting from sciatica (self-diagnosed.) I heat up a heating pad in the microwave, take some pills, and go get my morning caffeine and call Carlene. She's up, I know, because she already sent me an email about how much fun she's having watching these videos I'm sending her.
I'm reading an excellent book Jan gave me--The Portable Veblin--and the heating pad is one she made me years ago. For our gathering at Lorraine's, Jan took a picnic lunch of sandwiches, cut vegetables, chips, and chocolate cake. Lorraine got some good Juba Juices.
We talked about eating more anti-inflammatory foods, so I came home and got out my Vitamix and recipes for green drinks. I went to the all-night Wal-Mart and got spinach and blueberries and almond milk, so I'm all set.
Will and Veronica and Elena went to Dallas this weekend. The daughter of one of Veronica's oldest friends is gravely ill--a fourteen-year-old girl with complications of flu.
While Veronica was sitting with Olivia's mother in ICU, Will and Elena joined Jade--Elena's second cousin who lives in Dallas--for flower girl dress fittings.
The neon orange pegasus atop a shop at the corner of Broadway and Austin Highway. White lights draping from trees. Lights starting to come on in houses, people stretching and making breakfast. A few early morning dog walkers.
I hear on NPR that visibility is limited to about a hundred yards and people are advised to leave early for work.
I love this season in San Antonio!
***
Every morning, between 2:15 and 3:15, I wake up with my leg hurting from sciatica (self-diagnosed.) I heat up a heating pad in the microwave, take some pills, and go get my morning caffeine and call Carlene. She's up, I know, because she already sent me an email about how much fun she's having watching these videos I'm sending her.
I'm reading an excellent book Jan gave me--The Portable Veblin--and the heating pad is one she made me years ago. For our gathering at Lorraine's, Jan took a picnic lunch of sandwiches, cut vegetables, chips, and chocolate cake. Lorraine got some good Juba Juices.
We talked about eating more anti-inflammatory foods, so I came home and got out my Vitamix and recipes for green drinks. I went to the all-night Wal-Mart and got spinach and blueberries and almond milk, so I'm all set.
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| Here is Elena in Dallas, taking notes in her journal of everything she sees. |
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| And here is Marcus, my cherub of a grandson in Virginia at the Falls Church band concert. |
While Veronica was sitting with Olivia's mother in ICU, Will and Elena joined Jade--Elena's second cousin who lives in Dallas--for flower girl dress fittings.
"Creating a Life That Fits Like Skin"
Sherry, a featured blogger on "Sixty and Me," is my friend Diana's friend from their former life in Minnesota.
She leads "Writing for Discovery" workshops and lives in Bali now, and writes blog posts and describes her life in Bali:
https://writingforselfdiscovery.com/author/writingforselfdiscovery/
When women of sixty-plus pick up and move to another country (as Barbel is about to do in moving to The Netherlands), I think: what courage it must take to start over on a new continent.
"Sixty and Me" is a collection of blogs written by women over sixty. Women who are starting over, having adventures, traveling, cooking, making art, performing.
Sherry's blog subtitle: "Creating a Life That Fits Like Skin" is brilliant, I think! Skin fits close to the bone, it covers all manner of unattractive but essential organs, and while it may tighten or loosen under various circumstances, it's rare that it just hangs there with pockets filled with excess stuff. People recognize us by the shape, color, and texture of our skin.
Jan and Lorraine and I had a conversation yesterday about having the courage to say no to things we don't really want to do. On Saturday, Becky and Kara and I had a similar conversation.
As we get older, we really do want our lives to fit like skin instead of flapping around in an oversized calendar box of appointments and duties and obligations.
She leads "Writing for Discovery" workshops and lives in Bali now, and writes blog posts and describes her life in Bali:
https://writingforselfdiscovery.com/author/writingforselfdiscovery/
When women of sixty-plus pick up and move to another country (as Barbel is about to do in moving to The Netherlands), I think: what courage it must take to start over on a new continent.
"Sixty and Me" is a collection of blogs written by women over sixty. Women who are starting over, having adventures, traveling, cooking, making art, performing.
Sherry's blog subtitle: "Creating a Life That Fits Like Skin" is brilliant, I think! Skin fits close to the bone, it covers all manner of unattractive but essential organs, and while it may tighten or loosen under various circumstances, it's rare that it just hangs there with pockets filled with excess stuff. People recognize us by the shape, color, and texture of our skin.
Jan and Lorraine and I had a conversation yesterday about having the courage to say no to things we don't really want to do. On Saturday, Becky and Kara and I had a similar conversation.
As we get older, we really do want our lives to fit like skin instead of flapping around in an oversized calendar box of appointments and duties and obligations.
Thursday, December 5, 2019
Happy Happy Kids!
Instead of marbling, we put up the tree and decorated it, strung lights on the fence outside, and Nathan played lively Christmas music on You Tube.
Elena was afraid the elf might be summoned by the lights on the tree and she didn't want to see Elmer. "It will take away the magic if I see him," she said.
They were both so excited--I think Nathan may still be a believer, but if he's not, he covers it well--and with each ornament unpacked, one of them said, "Oh, I remember when...." The word, remember, is what makes Christmas so special for kids as their memories already layer over each other.
Elena was afraid the elf might be summoned by the lights on the tree and she didn't want to see Elmer. "It will take away the magic if I see him," she said.
They were both so excited--I think Nathan may still be a believer, but if he's not, he covers it well--and with each ornament unpacked, one of them said, "Oh, I remember when...." The word, remember, is what makes Christmas so special for kids as their memories already layer over each other.
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| Always dancing |
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| Paco is a year old (as in their house) this Christmas |
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| Elena and her penguin |
Tuesday, December 3, 2019
The New Old Bear
Four or five years ago, a granddaughter wanted to borrow her grandmother's teddy bear, just for a few days. Reluctantly--because the grandmother liked to sleep with her bear--she said yes, of course, sure.
When a grandmother lends a little girl her bear, she doesn't really expect it back.
But sometimes the grandmother misses her big fuzzy bear--as she's always had a fondness for bears and furry company.
So one day last week, the grandmother decided to see if she could track down, say, an identical twin to her former bear. Amazon, for all it's much-publicized faults lately, was able to provide a fat and furry twin, just as cuddly as its predecessor.
Many reviewers admitted that they had adopted the bear for themselves, not for a child. "I am embarrassed to admit it," one said, "But I am seventy-years-old and I got this bear for myself."
Or: "I got one for my grandson and it was so adorable I had to order a second one, for me!"
The grandmother pressed the "Place order" button and then forgot about it.
On Sunday, she was feeling lonesome and a little bit blue. When a box was delivered in the afternoon, she said out loud, "Wonder what that could be?'
She opened the box, and to her delight, this little guy was inside!
Afraid she might be unable to get attached to a substitute bear, the grandmother left his tag on his ear until today, in case she decided to send him back.
After an afternoon watching "The Crown" together, the grandmother has decided that furry old Winston isn't going anywhere.
When a grandmother lends a little girl her bear, she doesn't really expect it back.
But sometimes the grandmother misses her big fuzzy bear--as she's always had a fondness for bears and furry company.
So one day last week, the grandmother decided to see if she could track down, say, an identical twin to her former bear. Amazon, for all it's much-publicized faults lately, was able to provide a fat and furry twin, just as cuddly as its predecessor.
Many reviewers admitted that they had adopted the bear for themselves, not for a child. "I am embarrassed to admit it," one said, "But I am seventy-years-old and I got this bear for myself."
Or: "I got one for my grandson and it was so adorable I had to order a second one, for me!"
The grandmother pressed the "Place order" button and then forgot about it.
On Sunday, she was feeling lonesome and a little bit blue. When a box was delivered in the afternoon, she said out loud, "Wonder what that could be?'
She opened the box, and to her delight, this little guy was inside!
Afraid she might be unable to get attached to a substitute bear, the grandmother left his tag on his ear until today, in case she decided to send him back.
After an afternoon watching "The Crown" together, the grandmother has decided that furry old Winston isn't going anywhere.
Marbling With Joy
It's been a beautiful day in the neighborhood--with Joy here making marbled papers together, having lunch on the porch as leaves fluttered around us.
We tried two methods of marbling and chose Joggle's Easy Marble as the simplest. Here's Joy setting up our first pour using starch and paint:
And here is the result of her first marbling--a round cocoa can:
Here are a couple of half-circle pages I made early this morning:
I'm settled in for the night finishing Season 1 of The Crown on Netflix--such a good series.
We tried two methods of marbling and chose Joggle's Easy Marble as the simplest. Here's Joy setting up our first pour using starch and paint:
And here is the result of her first marbling--a round cocoa can:
Here are a couple of half-circle pages I made early this morning:
I'm settled in for the night finishing Season 1 of The Crown on Netflix--such a good series.
Saturday, November 30, 2019
It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood
Twenty years after his show ended, Mr. Rogers is back--two films on the big screen this year.
As Pam and I were watching "Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood"last night, I noticed that we were both smiling most of the way though--with a few sniffles from her seat and one spontaneous sing-a-long from mine.
Children loved Mr. Rogers. I mostly heard him from the kitchen. Day never wanted to miss Mr. Rogers. Now I know why.
We need more men like Mr. Rogers. Men who listen and talk slowly. Men who see the whole world as a great big beautiful neighborhood.
Joy shared a story she'd read on Facebook with me: When Koko the gorilla was introduced to Mr. Rogers (her favorite TV star) she cuddled up beside him, signed love, and tied his shoes!
Mr. Rogers' producers knew that if he were in a conversation with a child who needed affection or attention, they could just postpone the opening of the show until he was done. (Mr. Rogers refused to be hurried through human encounters.) The child could be any color, any nationality; could have disabilities; could come from poverty or wealth--and there was never any difference in how they were treated. He was humble, and he never talked about himself.
Before he spoke, there were long pauses, so long you sometimes wondered if he was going to speak. He was comfortable with silence. He didn't need to fill every space with his own words.
Whatever Fred did, he had the magic sauce for children--and apparently one gorilla. He exuded exactly what people of all ages need: someone who, when you watch him, you find yourself open and smiling, not angry in response to anger and insults.
Pam and I went to Comfort today. I used some of my birthday money to buy a unique little stove with a wood top. Pam bought a beautiful leather handmade journal from the arts gallery. We had a leisurely lunch at High Street and watched people walking by. It was a peaceful day, and we both said we thought just being in the presence of Mr. Rogers last night contributed to our tranquility.
Mary Frances, my long-time yoga teacher, used to say, "Where your attention goes, your energy flows."
I think maybe I'll stop paying so much attention to the news. I think I'll watch re-runs of Mr. Rogers, or maybe the adult equivalent: You Tube videos. Maybe I'll stop talking so much and be more present in other ways.
Mary Frances's definition of love was: "Being fully present."
Mr. Rogers knew that. So did Koko.
As Pam and I were watching "Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood"last night, I noticed that we were both smiling most of the way though--with a few sniffles from her seat and one spontaneous sing-a-long from mine.
Children loved Mr. Rogers. I mostly heard him from the kitchen. Day never wanted to miss Mr. Rogers. Now I know why.
We need more men like Mr. Rogers. Men who listen and talk slowly. Men who see the whole world as a great big beautiful neighborhood.
Joy shared a story she'd read on Facebook with me: When Koko the gorilla was introduced to Mr. Rogers (her favorite TV star) she cuddled up beside him, signed love, and tied his shoes!
Mr. Rogers' producers knew that if he were in a conversation with a child who needed affection or attention, they could just postpone the opening of the show until he was done. (Mr. Rogers refused to be hurried through human encounters.) The child could be any color, any nationality; could have disabilities; could come from poverty or wealth--and there was never any difference in how they were treated. He was humble, and he never talked about himself.
Before he spoke, there were long pauses, so long you sometimes wondered if he was going to speak. He was comfortable with silence. He didn't need to fill every space with his own words.
Whatever Fred did, he had the magic sauce for children--and apparently one gorilla. He exuded exactly what people of all ages need: someone who, when you watch him, you find yourself open and smiling, not angry in response to anger and insults.
Pam and I went to Comfort today. I used some of my birthday money to buy a unique little stove with a wood top. Pam bought a beautiful leather handmade journal from the arts gallery. We had a leisurely lunch at High Street and watched people walking by. It was a peaceful day, and we both said we thought just being in the presence of Mr. Rogers last night contributed to our tranquility.
Mary Frances, my long-time yoga teacher, used to say, "Where your attention goes, your energy flows."
I think maybe I'll stop paying so much attention to the news. I think I'll watch re-runs of Mr. Rogers, or maybe the adult equivalent: You Tube videos. Maybe I'll stop talking so much and be more present in other ways.
Mary Frances's definition of love was: "Being fully present."
Mr. Rogers knew that. So did Koko.
Friday, November 29, 2019
Rainy Monday
Well, it feels like Monday--and it's definitely wet out there in San Antonio, just enough to be soft and easy.
I had a good day yesterday on my solo Thanksgiving. I marbled some papers and wrapped family Christmas presents. I made goulash (AKA "yoga stew"--because I always left it for my kids on yoga night.) Today I will make cornbread to go with it and take a nap and do a bit more marbling before meeting Pam to see the Mr. Rogers movie. It's a good day for movies and naps--but of course every day is good for those two pleasures.
I was thankful to have three invitations for Thanksgiving dinner yesterday, but I had my day all planned out so I stayed home and got a lot accomplished that I'd been saving for Thursday.
Linda is waiting for a new grandson to be born in Massachusetts, and Janet emailed me yesterday that her grand-daughter had been born in Chicago. Looks like Sage's Little Brother is coming on December 3rd, unless he has other plans and comes early.
I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving Day!
I had a good day yesterday on my solo Thanksgiving. I marbled some papers and wrapped family Christmas presents. I made goulash (AKA "yoga stew"--because I always left it for my kids on yoga night.) Today I will make cornbread to go with it and take a nap and do a bit more marbling before meeting Pam to see the Mr. Rogers movie. It's a good day for movies and naps--but of course every day is good for those two pleasures.
I was thankful to have three invitations for Thanksgiving dinner yesterday, but I had my day all planned out so I stayed home and got a lot accomplished that I'd been saving for Thursday.
Linda is waiting for a new grandson to be born in Massachusetts, and Janet emailed me yesterday that her grand-daughter had been born in Chicago. Looks like Sage's Little Brother is coming on December 3rd, unless he has other plans and comes early.
I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving Day!
Thursday, November 28, 2019
Happy Thanksgiving!
I'm thankful for writers, books, and lenders of books.
Pam shared The Confession Club, by Elizabeth Berg--which I read in two short sittings this week: a novel about a group of friends who meet weekly to take turns confessing things they have never told anyone before.
(I was reminded of truth sessions in 8th grade, of writing groups, of conversations among my friends when one of us surprises even ourselves by what we reveal and how good it is when nobody is mortified.)
Pam shared The Confession Club, by Elizabeth Berg--which I read in two short sittings this week: a novel about a group of friends who meet weekly to take turns confessing things they have never told anyone before.
(I was reminded of truth sessions in 8th grade, of writing groups, of conversations among my friends when one of us surprises even ourselves by what we reveal and how good it is when nobody is mortified.)
Joy shared The Black Widow Club by Mary Powell--the book I'm enjoying in the middle of the night instead of making turkey and pies. In this novel four friends leave Houston and travel to Ajijic, Mexico, to explore the possibility of buying a house together there. Divorced and/or widowed, their plan is to have a "creative and courageous" last chapter of their lives and take care of each other if need be--quite an attractive alternative to assisted living in America if you ask me!
Both books are about women's friendships and taking some risks to create the lives they want--moving away, buying a house, falling in love, or taking on a new project in spite of the objections of other people.
As I read these two books, I'm thinking about the power of true friendships--the people with whom we can be totally honest--and about the choices that can make our final decades as vivid and creative as the ones of our youth, maybe more so.
While I may be here alone in my house reading in the middle of the night, I'm having some wonderful conversations--with Pam and Joy (who shared these books ); with Mary Powell and Elizabeth Berg (who wrote these books); and with the characters on their pages.
Both books are about women's friendships and taking some risks to create the lives they want--moving away, buying a house, falling in love, or taking on a new project in spite of the objections of other people.
As I read these two books, I'm thinking about the power of true friendships--the people with whom we can be totally honest--and about the choices that can make our final decades as vivid and creative as the ones of our youth, maybe more so.
While I may be here alone in my house reading in the middle of the night, I'm having some wonderful conversations--with Pam and Joy (who shared these books ); with Mary Powell and Elizabeth Berg (who wrote these books); and with the characters on their pages.
Wednesday, November 27, 2019
Finding Christina
Tina and I were friends in our twenties and thirties--those Helotes decades of having small children. After I moved from Helotes, I visited her occasionally in Grey Forest in the house she personally transformed from ragged to way cool. A woman who can do anything, she had even sided the house with stones--as well as structural changes to the interior!
She moved to Santa Fe for a while, then back, then as often happens even with people we love, we lost touch. She changed her phone number, I changed mine, and neither of us were active on Facebook.
Lately, I've thought about her a lot and wondered where she was. Turns out she re-joined Facebook and I found her there on one of my infrequent visits to the site. She goes by the name Christina Nouveau (she gave herself a new last name after a divorce) and she posts her art there.
Well, of all things: yesterday was a chilly day with fall leaves all over the riverbank in Boerne where I sat for a while.
The traffic in Boerne was thick, so I drove on to Comfort, thinking I'd have breakfast at High Street Cafe, but it was closed. Right around the corner was Eighth Street Market--Coffee and 'Tiques so I went inside . This store (many different vendors) is the best shopping place in Comfort and well worth the drive.
As I was looking for the restroom, I ran into Tina, my old friend from Helotes days. We were so happy to see each other that we had tears in our eyes!
She was on her way to Boerne but changed her plans and took me home with her, and wow! She and Ted are remodeling a farm house right on the Guadalupe River, just a four miles from Comfort, and I admired every room, especially her quintessentially-Tina art studio.
I'm so happy to have found my long lost friend!
She moved to Santa Fe for a while, then back, then as often happens even with people we love, we lost touch. She changed her phone number, I changed mine, and neither of us were active on Facebook.
Lately, I've thought about her a lot and wondered where she was. Turns out she re-joined Facebook and I found her there on one of my infrequent visits to the site. She goes by the name Christina Nouveau (she gave herself a new last name after a divorce) and she posts her art there.
Well, of all things: yesterday was a chilly day with fall leaves all over the riverbank in Boerne where I sat for a while.
The traffic in Boerne was thick, so I drove on to Comfort, thinking I'd have breakfast at High Street Cafe, but it was closed. Right around the corner was Eighth Street Market--Coffee and 'Tiques so I went inside . This store (many different vendors) is the best shopping place in Comfort and well worth the drive.
As I was looking for the restroom, I ran into Tina, my old friend from Helotes days. We were so happy to see each other that we had tears in our eyes!
She was on her way to Boerne but changed her plans and took me home with her, and wow! She and Ted are remodeling a farm house right on the Guadalupe River, just a four miles from Comfort, and I admired every room, especially her quintessentially-Tina art studio.
I'm so happy to have found my long lost friend!
Tuesday, November 26, 2019
A poem by Rachel Barrenblat--The Velveteen Rabbi
Recipe |
The year your mother died
I was in college, living off-campus for the first time. As Rosh Hashanah approached I called you for recipes. I didn't know how to cook, but I roasted cornish hens and honeyed carrot coins and assembled my housemates around a table covered with a bedsheet because I didn't own a white tablecloth. As this first Thanksgiving without you draws near, I'm emailing my sister and scouring the internet for a recipe that looks like the mango mousse you always made. It's a relic of the 1950s when your marriage was new. I don't think I've ever bought Jell-O or canned mango before, and I don't own a fluted ring mold but when my spoon slices through creamy sun-gold yellow it will taste for an instant like you were in my kitchen, like you're at my table, like you're still here. |
Sunday, November 24, 2019
Marta, Emily, and Hannah
When I want to watch a feel-good video, I like to watch a Marta video. Not because of the art, per se, but because of the playfulness between mother, Marta, and her two little girls, Emma and Hannah, as they make things.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ox2WzvNuXQ4
We never see their faces, and Hannah is still an off-camera baby--but we watch Marta and Emma interacting with their hands and voices and laughter. Sometimes Hannah will wake up from a nap, and Emily will go get her and put on some children's songs and Marta will sing along, sometimes in Polish, sometimes in English.
If you only listen only to the sound track, you can hear earmarks of excellent teaching:
Wow, Emma, that's really good!
Try this.
It will work better if you try it this way--add a little water, crush up that powder and wet it, press a little harder, try adding some blue to this color, see what happens.
You never know what will happen. You don't have to have a plan.
I love it! Beautiful!
Thank you, Emily, you're so helpful.
I love the colors you chose. Now let's see what you can do with them.
Oh, I got blue splashes on your cheek, how funny!
Don't worry. You can fix it.
Do you need some help over there?
I don't know, Emily, about this piece I'm making. Do you like it?
Work your magic--because I know you can!
And from Emily, you can hear the enthusiasm of learning:
I think this is really pretty, Mom!
Do you need me to get you more water?
Yes, please, could you help me with this?
Why do you do it like that?
The interaction of these two is pure pleasure to watch. Little hands copying big hands. Little voice with the same accents and tone as the mother voice. No fear, no rules, no impatience.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ox2WzvNuXQ4
We never see their faces, and Hannah is still an off-camera baby--but we watch Marta and Emma interacting with their hands and voices and laughter. Sometimes Hannah will wake up from a nap, and Emily will go get her and put on some children's songs and Marta will sing along, sometimes in Polish, sometimes in English.
If you only listen only to the sound track, you can hear earmarks of excellent teaching:
Wow, Emma, that's really good!
Try this.
It will work better if you try it this way--add a little water, crush up that powder and wet it, press a little harder, try adding some blue to this color, see what happens.
You never know what will happen. You don't have to have a plan.
I love it! Beautiful!
Thank you, Emily, you're so helpful.
I love the colors you chose. Now let's see what you can do with them.
Oh, I got blue splashes on your cheek, how funny!
Don't worry. You can fix it.
Do you need some help over there?
I don't know, Emily, about this piece I'm making. Do you like it?
Work your magic--because I know you can!
And from Emily, you can hear the enthusiasm of learning:
I think this is really pretty, Mom!
Do you need me to get you more water?
Yes, please, could you help me with this?
Why do you do it like that?
The interaction of these two is pure pleasure to watch. Little hands copying big hands. Little voice with the same accents and tone as the mother voice. No fear, no rules, no impatience.
Friday, November 22, 2019
Contagion
Even with the impeachment hearings going on in the background for parts of yesterday, I gave myself a day to do Nothing. When I don't have a single thing on the calendar and no promises to keep, I actually do a lot--but all from the work table in the kitchen or the one beside my bed.
I have enough Posca pens and acrylic paint to last me three decades, and I'm enjoying every drop, stroke, and scrape. Writing comes naturally, but this? Every day is a new day of exploring and discovering.
At midnight, I had watched tutorials by Robyn and another favorite, Nik The Booksmith. I made myself go to sleep, but a couple of hours later I woke up and proceeded to try a few techniques I'd learned. The last time I looked at the clock it was 4 a.m.!
What I was doing on paper were journal pages, but what I was experiencing was tranquility, punctuated by a series of "A-Ha"s. Lacking the knowledge I have about writing, I am not tied to expectations, grades, or feedback--just plunging into this unfamiliar water for the fun of it.
I had shared some supplies (and an extra gel plate) with Carlene--as she had expressed a desire to make greeting cards. Then I began sending her links to videos I liked--videos for making collages and books. This morning I got a text that was so wonderful I'm sure she won't mind if I share it:
Found it! Your secret! Art journaling sans the compunction to "produce" something--as is my lifetime mantra. Watching videos in lieu of news broadcasts, stashing ideas to use with my now-accumulated toys when I wake at night thinking about stuff I can't change and don't want to devote my years to! In other words--create w/o intention or purpose!!!! Who cares if I never send a greeting card? Just cut and paste and paint and stencil ad infinitum for fun and if/when/or share if ever so inclined!
Thanks!
I have enough Posca pens and acrylic paint to last me three decades, and I'm enjoying every drop, stroke, and scrape. Writing comes naturally, but this? Every day is a new day of exploring and discovering.
At midnight, I had watched tutorials by Robyn and another favorite, Nik The Booksmith. I made myself go to sleep, but a couple of hours later I woke up and proceeded to try a few techniques I'd learned. The last time I looked at the clock it was 4 a.m.!
What I was doing on paper were journal pages, but what I was experiencing was tranquility, punctuated by a series of "A-Ha"s. Lacking the knowledge I have about writing, I am not tied to expectations, grades, or feedback--just plunging into this unfamiliar water for the fun of it.
I had shared some supplies (and an extra gel plate) with Carlene--as she had expressed a desire to make greeting cards. Then I began sending her links to videos I liked--videos for making collages and books. This morning I got a text that was so wonderful I'm sure she won't mind if I share it:
Found it! Your secret! Art journaling sans the compunction to "produce" something--as is my lifetime mantra. Watching videos in lieu of news broadcasts, stashing ideas to use with my now-accumulated toys when I wake at night thinking about stuff I can't change and don't want to devote my years to! In other words--create w/o intention or purpose!!!! Who cares if I never send a greeting card? Just cut and paste and paint and stencil ad infinitum for fun and if/when/or share if ever so inclined!
Thanks!
Thursday, November 21, 2019
Cards, Clues, Cottages, and Comfort
Yesterday I picked up Nathan and Elena after school, watched a dinosaur video game with Nathan, helped Elena set up her village, played Clue (Nathan loves that game!), won my first game with Mr. Plum's terrible murder with candlestick in the library, and watched the debates after the kiddos went to bed, and drove home about 11.
I had bought this pack of jumbo playing cards at Tuesday morning for paper crafts, but Elena claimed them as hers when she found them in the car while we waited for Nathan, and she did her best magic trick in mega-size cards.
As happy as I've been to be invited to join them for a trip to Japan this summer, I've decided to decline. Some things are better done when one is a decade or two younger. I made my informed decision after talking to two friends who have visited or lived in Japan and learned more about the Asian toilet situation I'd encounter there. I could just imagine myself falling into one of those squat toilets and having to dial the Japanese equivalent of 911!
Also, my knee situation would be counter to the active outdoor physical activities that this young family is planning.
I'm putting the invitation in the long positive side of the ledger of being a mom and grandmother and looking forward to hearing about all their adventures there! But as for me, I'm staying put (or traveling within North America) favoring comfort over certain adventurous moves.
I had bought this pack of jumbo playing cards at Tuesday morning for paper crafts, but Elena claimed them as hers when she found them in the car while we waited for Nathan, and she did her best magic trick in mega-size cards.
 |
| Elena wanted her village on the trunk at the foot of her bed. I loved watching her set up the building and Christmas trees! |
As happy as I've been to be invited to join them for a trip to Japan this summer, I've decided to decline. Some things are better done when one is a decade or two younger. I made my informed decision after talking to two friends who have visited or lived in Japan and learned more about the Asian toilet situation I'd encounter there. I could just imagine myself falling into one of those squat toilets and having to dial the Japanese equivalent of 911!
Also, my knee situation would be counter to the active outdoor physical activities that this young family is planning.
I'm putting the invitation in the long positive side of the ledger of being a mom and grandmother and looking forward to hearing about all their adventures there! But as for me, I'm staying put (or traveling within North America) favoring comfort over certain adventurous moves.
Monday, November 18, 2019
In progress
A couple of you have asked me to post some of the things I'm making, so here goes:
 |
| You can see my little cardboard houses beside these oh so very fragrant lilies. |
 |
| Here's my Mexican pastry baking pan with its first coat of paint. |
 |
| Houses up close-- |
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