For five years, I traveled often to Minneapolis. While my then-partner, Bob, was at work, I drove around the city and watched a life so different from life in Texas. Even on the coldest and snowiest days, people loved to hike and ride bikes around the lakes, and I'd often walk around Lake Harriet and watch people.
The women I met there--mostly writers--invited me for lunches. They teased me about my sandals and advised me about snow-wear. In the fall, the leaves changed colors and fringed the lake where Bob and I sailed. We spent the night of Y2K wondering what would happen at midnight. Nothing happened.
Some days I'd drive over the bridge into St. Paul and visit a book store there. At night, we had dinners in ethnic restaurants in downtown Minneapolis or St. Paul. On one freezing weekend, we drove to International Falls and I dusted off my motorcycle skills and whizzed a snowmobile around the frozen lake around little ice fishing huts.
Many Minnesotans, like Bob, whose ancestors came from Norway, loved cooking Norwegian white food--especially fish and a paper-thin bread called lefse. During those years, most of the other travelers on my flights were Somalian immigrants, women dressed in colorful dresses and scarves, adorable children and babies on their laps.
Minnesota was the land of Garrison Keillor's folky Prairie Home Companion and barbershop quartets, Lutheran churches and "Minnesota Nice."
I'm thinking fondly of that sweet city and the people who befriended me there as I watch the horrifying news of this week, a city on fire.
Friday, May 29, 2020
Thursday, May 28, 2020
The shots worked--my knees are much better.
But I've had a reaction to the steroids: face is red and hot.
According to some online sources, these are occasional reactions to steroids, especially in women.
I'm taking Benadryl and sleeping a lot but have no fever. The doc said that if the Benadryl doesn't work, I should go to the hospital and have it checked out, but it's probably an allergy to something in the shots.
Will and Bonnie and Elena came tonight and brought barbecue from Big Bibs. While her parents were doing an interview in the casita, Elena and I had movie night. She's been very sad because two of her silkies died. She cried and cried when she discovered those two baby chicks. "Daddy, can you please do something to make me feel better?" she said.
He must have thought of something because she was her cheerful self tonight. Yenna is going Silkie shopping as soon as her parents give me the green light.
But I've had a reaction to the steroids: face is red and hot.
According to some online sources, these are occasional reactions to steroids, especially in women.
I'm taking Benadryl and sleeping a lot but have no fever. The doc said that if the Benadryl doesn't work, I should go to the hospital and have it checked out, but it's probably an allergy to something in the shots.
Will and Bonnie and Elena came tonight and brought barbecue from Big Bibs. While her parents were doing an interview in the casita, Elena and I had movie night. She's been very sad because two of her silkies died. She cried and cried when she discovered those two baby chicks. "Daddy, can you please do something to make me feel better?" she said.
He must have thought of something because she was her cheerful self tonight. Yenna is going Silkie shopping as soon as her parents give me the green light.
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| This is what a day-old silkie looks like |
Hail the size of baseballs maybe?
For a short burst of nature partying, my house and Jan's house were rocked by hail a couple of hours ago. I don't even want to look at the car right now, or the roof, or the windows.
So, like Scarlett, I will think about that tomorrow.
For the past three nights, we've had storms, then clear weather during the day. But tonight's was the most spectacular, thunder, hail, the whole show.
I hope none of us got major damage, but if we did, we'll deal with it--get new roofs, new windows, body work on our cars, whatever it takes. A First World problem.
When I heard it starting up, I was in the casita and heard thunder and decided to make a run for it back to the house. Guess who was standing right by the door looking all worried? A young possum. Instead of screeching and grabbing the broom for protection, I watched him scurry away. Maybe he was thinking, "Yuck! A human! So creepy!"
So, like Scarlett, I will think about that tomorrow.
For the past three nights, we've had storms, then clear weather during the day. But tonight's was the most spectacular, thunder, hail, the whole show.
I hope none of us got major damage, but if we did, we'll deal with it--get new roofs, new windows, body work on our cars, whatever it takes. A First World problem.
When I heard it starting up, I was in the casita and heard thunder and decided to make a run for it back to the house. Guess who was standing right by the door looking all worried? A young possum. Instead of screeching and grabbing the broom for protection, I watched him scurry away. Maybe he was thinking, "Yuck! A human! So creepy!"
Wednesday, May 27, 2020
Little Tiny Books and Little Tiny Shots
Today I got a cortisone shot in each knee. Already I can feel a bit of improvement and am managing stairs a little better, not walking like a crab. Apparently this will be the knee routine every three months until someday in the distant future when I may need knee replacements.
With happier knees, I have been gel printing again--first time in weeks. I just now gel printed one 12 inch piece of card stock and folded it up to make a tiny book. Elena and I had tried one yesterday but I didn't remember that we need a scoring tool, so our first attempt turned out kind of wonky.
But should you want to make one, here's a video that will walk you right through it. If you don't have gel presses, you can paint the paper just fine without one. The second and third ones I made turned out great.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gqAguQves7o&t=1823s
With happier knees, I have been gel printing again--first time in weeks. I just now gel printed one 12 inch piece of card stock and folded it up to make a tiny book. Elena and I had tried one yesterday but I didn't remember that we need a scoring tool, so our first attempt turned out kind of wonky.
But should you want to make one, here's a video that will walk you right through it. If you don't have gel presses, you can paint the paper just fine without one. The second and third ones I made turned out great.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gqAguQves7o&t=1823s
Tuesday, May 26, 2020
May 26: 9:30 pm
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| Will's accordion birthday card with 42 paper candles each made with a gel print strip |
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| Will's cake with 42 wax candles |
A peaceful happy birthday party of four in the country. (Nathan was at his other dad's house).
We sat on the porch for birthday cake and bird watching. They now have a painted bunting and I'm hoping he brings his whole family to share his good seeds. What an incredibly beautiful bird!
Paco the cockatiel is so smart. He says "Hey Paco" and he loves Elena best, flying around the house and landing on her head every time.
May 26, 2020
My last text was from Elena last night, and so were my first texts of the morning. Then we Face Timed as I drove to get my morning taco and as she fed the turtle, Paco, the guinea pigs, and cleaned out the fish tank.
Here's a picture of newborn Will being held by Day, his seven-year-old big sister.
Sometimes Elena looks like her mom, sometimes she looks like Aunt Day. When Bonnie saw this picture she said, "That looks like Elena holding her dad!"
The resemblance (Day and Elena) in this snapshot is uncanny--though it's rare to find such a pensive expression on either of their faces.
The cake turned out just fine--off to Helotes to celebrate Will's 42nd birthday.....
Here's a picture of newborn Will being held by Day, his seven-year-old big sister.
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| May 29, 1978 |
Sometimes Elena looks like her mom, sometimes she looks like Aunt Day. When Bonnie saw this picture she said, "That looks like Elena holding her dad!"
The resemblance (Day and Elena) in this snapshot is uncanny--though it's rare to find such a pensive expression on either of their faces.
The cake turned out just fine--off to Helotes to celebrate Will's 42nd birthday.....
Monday, May 25, 2020
May 25th
The cake I made yesterday turned out delicious but not birthday cake quality in appearance. So I sliced it up, ate some, gave some away, put the rest in the freezer, and made a second one today. I'm going to blame it on the oven if the new cake falls and the top refuses to brown.
Will's 42nd birthday is tomorrow, and he requested pound cake, easy peasy, usually.
In a mother's eyes, children are all the ages they've ever been along with the men or women they now are. Here are my precious babies, Day and Will, in Helotes.
Sunday, May 24, 2020
Opossums
Shifting Perspectives
"I have to go get the clothes out of the washer before dark," I said to Pam last night.
"Why?" she asked.
"Because I don't want to run into a possum," I said.
"You need to change your view of possums," she said. "They are wonderful. They are our friends." (She went on to tell me that they are shy and easy-going and that they eat mosquitoes and bugs we don't like biting us.)
My washer and dryer are outdoors, but I made it before the possums started wandering. (One night last week, I was considering going for a coke and ran into a possum enjoying my improvised bird bath, so I decided to just get a coke from the fridge.)
Then this morning, I related it to Betty who was talking about changing the ways our brains are wired to like or not like certain things.
She told me a story: Years ago, she saw a mama possum coming onto her deck to pick up her four babies after a day of foraging for food. Betty watched, fascinated, as she patiently waited for the babies to climb on her back, how she helped them when they fell. "It was one of the dearest things I've ever watched," she said. "Such a beautiful image of motherhood."
Joy, too, has insisted that I try to shift my perspective on possums (opossums, technically). Betty and I thought Joy should write a children's book about possum mamas and babies!
Three in a row and my perspective is shifting--just a tiny bit.
We can change how we see things if we know more, and I'm going to give it a try next time I run into one. (They can't help it that they remind me of rats!) (They can't help it that they don't match my inner definition of beauty!)
While I'm talking about animals, get this:
According to the book I read on taxonomy: It turns out that whales are actually ungulates, the family to which deer belong! And bats? They may look like flying rodents but they are actually related to camels!
When I told Elena that, she said, "Well, that's just not right! No way!"
Everything we know, or think we know, is subject to revision if we're curious. The question is: to what extent does knowledge override our long-held prejudices?
"I have to go get the clothes out of the washer before dark," I said to Pam last night.
"Why?" she asked.
"Because I don't want to run into a possum," I said.
"You need to change your view of possums," she said. "They are wonderful. They are our friends." (She went on to tell me that they are shy and easy-going and that they eat mosquitoes and bugs we don't like biting us.)
My washer and dryer are outdoors, but I made it before the possums started wandering. (One night last week, I was considering going for a coke and ran into a possum enjoying my improvised bird bath, so I decided to just get a coke from the fridge.)
Then this morning, I related it to Betty who was talking about changing the ways our brains are wired to like or not like certain things.
She told me a story: Years ago, she saw a mama possum coming onto her deck to pick up her four babies after a day of foraging for food. Betty watched, fascinated, as she patiently waited for the babies to climb on her back, how she helped them when they fell. "It was one of the dearest things I've ever watched," she said. "Such a beautiful image of motherhood."
Joy, too, has insisted that I try to shift my perspective on possums (opossums, technically). Betty and I thought Joy should write a children's book about possum mamas and babies!
Three in a row and my perspective is shifting--just a tiny bit.
We can change how we see things if we know more, and I'm going to give it a try next time I run into one. (They can't help it that they remind me of rats!) (They can't help it that they don't match my inner definition of beauty!)
While I'm talking about animals, get this:
According to the book I read on taxonomy: It turns out that whales are actually ungulates, the family to which deer belong! And bats? They may look like flying rodents but they are actually related to camels!
When I told Elena that, she said, "Well, that's just not right! No way!"
Everything we know, or think we know, is subject to revision if we're curious. The question is: to what extent does knowledge override our long-held prejudices?
Making a camping trailer
This is for my daddy. I wish he could see this.
He would have loved to see Will and Elena welding together, and her sense of humor (like her daddy's and my daddy's) would crack him up.
He'd never have let me near a welder when I was 8 if there were welders around, didn't even want me going in the deep end of the swimming pool. But that was a different era entirely. Girls were girls and boys were boys.
Except for that, though, this man I gave birth to 42 years ago on Tuesday is cut off the same daddy fabric as his grandfather. His face lights up looking at his girl, tells her he loves her, prize little upside-down egg. He pays attention to every word she says. He calls a day like this one of the best days of his life.
These are the kinds of days living is made for.
He would have loved to see Will and Elena welding together, and her sense of humor (like her daddy's and my daddy's) would crack him up.
He'd never have let me near a welder when I was 8 if there were welders around, didn't even want me going in the deep end of the swimming pool. But that was a different era entirely. Girls were girls and boys were boys.
Except for that, though, this man I gave birth to 42 years ago on Tuesday is cut off the same daddy fabric as his grandfather. His face lights up looking at his girl, tells her he loves her, prize little upside-down egg. He pays attention to every word she says. He calls a day like this one of the best days of his life.
These are the kinds of days living is made for.
Saturday, May 23, 2020
Friday Night Girls Party
While the anniversary parents had patio tacos at Sanchos, I got to have a fun evening with my girl--first casita night for us in so long.
I woke up this morning missing her and feeling a tad nostalgic, wistful, and sad about the fast passing of time. She's grown so much she already has what feels like a teenager-y vibe, leaving her grandmother to wonder how many more years we'll have these precious hours to play?
She loves fruit and she loves Central Market, so we went there to load up on fruit: pomegranate seeds (because they didn't have pomegranates as she wanted); watermelon, cherries, and peaches. While driving there, I put Keb Mo on the speaker (Old Me Better) and she said, "Oh, I love that song! You used to play that for me when I was little!"
We water-colored together, picked up two kids' barbecue chicken pizzas at California Pizza, had dinner in the casita, then watched Queer Eye on Netflix, not the current season but an episode she likes from Season 1--because we watched it "when I was little."
I love those little hands!
When she left, I gave her a Posca Pen and a new journal. "I always get what I want around here!" she said, teasingly, to me and her parents.
I woke up this morning missing her and feeling a tad nostalgic, wistful, and sad about the fast passing of time. She's grown so much she already has what feels like a teenager-y vibe, leaving her grandmother to wonder how many more years we'll have these precious hours to play?
She loves fruit and she loves Central Market, so we went there to load up on fruit: pomegranate seeds (because they didn't have pomegranates as she wanted); watermelon, cherries, and peaches. While driving there, I put Keb Mo on the speaker (Old Me Better) and she said, "Oh, I love that song! You used to play that for me when I was little!"
We water-colored together, picked up two kids' barbecue chicken pizzas at California Pizza, had dinner in the casita, then watched Queer Eye on Netflix, not the current season but an episode she likes from Season 1--because we watched it "when I was little."
I love those little hands!
When she left, I gave her a Posca Pen and a new journal. "I always get what I want around here!" she said, teasingly, to me and her parents.
Thursday, May 21, 2020
On two cheerier notes...
1.
Tonight is Will and Veronica's 9th anniversary. I love this photo of the two of them in their earlier (high school) romance, my parents with us celebrating their May birthdays in my first year in this house:
Here they are shortly after they found each other again 14 years later when Will got his degree. Nathan was three and Nana and I were at his graduation--as we (and my daddy) were for their high school graduation, 1996.
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| MAY 21, 2011 |
2.
Today is the day Day transformed an "ugly ass footstool" from Wayfair......
Into this work of art using her own embroidery, stencils, paint, and embellishments found at flea markets.
As Trump is flouting mask-wearing in public; punishing states with threats of holding back aid until they get in line with his views on voting at home; pushing for stadiums filled with people wearing no masks; bullying the press; insulting women and minorities; encouraging packed churches--comparisons to despots of history come to mind. I've always wondered about the psychology of such a man--and of those who like him, vote for him, stump for him, put up signs with his name on them.
The idea of wearing a mask to protect other people is impossible for him to grasp because he doesn't care about other people.
So as I was reading Why Fish Don't Exist, a fascinating read, my eyes landed upon this passage:
"Every age gets the lunatic it deserves," British historian Roy Porter once wrote.
So what will become of us?
This nation programming its kids to ignore reality when convenient. To whisper anything they need to keep themselves going. Is there any downside to living life behind rose-colored glasses?
Of course, I wonder what did our nation do to deserve this particular lunatic? And why is he hell-bent on keeping people from voting from home--as he himself does?
A few pages later:
"Aggressors often think very highly of themselves," Baumeister and Bushman write, "as
evidenced by nationalistic imperialism, 'master race' ideologies, aristocratic dueling,
playground bullies and street gang rhetoric." Odd, too, how many people who might score high
on tests for positive illusions share a peculiar quirk with David Starr Jordan [the taxonomist
she tracks throughout the book] a believe that they can control Chaos with their very own
hands. Fidel Castro once proposed building a shield around Cuba to protect it from
hurricanes. Moscow mayor Yury Luzhkov wanted to stop snowfall by spraying a chemical mist
of cement upon the clouds. And speaking of cement barriers, there was once a man of some
power in this country who wanted to build a "physically imposing" wall made of concrete or
steel to protect against a force as inevitable, as enriching, as wind.
The idea of wearing a mask to protect other people is impossible for him to grasp because he doesn't care about other people.
So as I was reading Why Fish Don't Exist, a fascinating read, my eyes landed upon this passage:
"Every age gets the lunatic it deserves," British historian Roy Porter once wrote.
So what will become of us?
This nation programming its kids to ignore reality when convenient. To whisper anything they need to keep themselves going. Is there any downside to living life behind rose-colored glasses?
Of course, I wonder what did our nation do to deserve this particular lunatic? And why is he hell-bent on keeping people from voting from home--as he himself does?
A few pages later:
"Aggressors often think very highly of themselves," Baumeister and Bushman write, "as
evidenced by nationalistic imperialism, 'master race' ideologies, aristocratic dueling,
playground bullies and street gang rhetoric." Odd, too, how many people who might score high
on tests for positive illusions share a peculiar quirk with David Starr Jordan [the taxonomist
she tracks throughout the book] a believe that they can control Chaos with their very own
hands. Fidel Castro once proposed building a shield around Cuba to protect it from
hurricanes. Moscow mayor Yury Luzhkov wanted to stop snowfall by spraying a chemical mist
of cement upon the clouds. And speaking of cement barriers, there was once a man of some
power in this country who wanted to build a "physically imposing" wall made of concrete or
steel to protect against a force as inevitable, as enriching, as wind.
Wednesday
Mrs. America on Hulu (episode 8)--highly recommend the entire series, one more episode to go.
I'm reading a book recommended by a friend: Why Fish Don't Exist: A Story of Loss, Love, and the Hidden Order of Life by Lulu Miller, one of the creators of Invisibilia on NPR. Her writing is excellent. For the first 100 pages, I couldn't tell where it was going--sort of a hybrid science book about a taxonomist in the 1800s with a bit of her personal story. But by page 102, I'm unable to put it down. Very unusual book, hard to classify, but interesting.
I will read to the end as I move into nap territory.
It's very hot today, but I masked up and went to Evergreen and bought myself a house plant.
Her name starts with a C--I'll have to go back soon and find out her name. It looks like someone painted leaves on top of the actual leaves.
I'm reading a book recommended by a friend: Why Fish Don't Exist: A Story of Loss, Love, and the Hidden Order of Life by Lulu Miller, one of the creators of Invisibilia on NPR. Her writing is excellent. For the first 100 pages, I couldn't tell where it was going--sort of a hybrid science book about a taxonomist in the 1800s with a bit of her personal story. But by page 102, I'm unable to put it down. Very unusual book, hard to classify, but interesting.
I will read to the end as I move into nap territory.
It's very hot today, but I masked up and went to Evergreen and bought myself a house plant.
Her name starts with a C--I'll have to go back soon and find out her name. It looks like someone painted leaves on top of the actual leaves.
Wednesday, May 20, 2020
Bonnie's 42nd Birthday
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| Opening Gifts from Day and Tom |
 |
| Modeling her new beach bag |
We had such a fun night I'm finding it hard to fall asleep. Nathan created a Jeopardy game and was game master. His questions were about rocks, geography, history, and science--very challenging questions.
Elena, my Jeopardy partner, did quite well--until she decided to switch to comedienne mode and entertain us with her sound effects and impromptu costume changes.
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| Here she is being... a nun? I think? |
Tuesday, May 19, 2020
cookery
Well, I'm just going to go ahead and say it: I do not care for cooking. I resign.
I used to--back when my kids were kids. I was fairly adept at it, as I recall, always trying out new recipes.
Will and Bonnie are doing a live online interview in the casita later, and we're going to do a porch or indoor dinner before or after. I have made a chicken dish with an Indiana flare because two of my friends raved about it, one being Pam who loaned me her crock pot and some spices to make it happen. Chopping cilantro and garlic and ginger and cutting up pieces of boneless chicken thighs took me forever, but I got it done and now said dish is simmering along on its own. A chocolate birthday cake for Bonnie is on the table (I do like making cakes) and all that's left to do is to boil some corn and heat the naan and make the jasmine rice.
We all have those things we like to do because they energize us and those things we do just because we expect it of ourselves. Cooking for me is in the latter category.
So there. It's official. Cookery is not my thing. I'm quitting--even if this is the best dish ever.
I used to--back when my kids were kids. I was fairly adept at it, as I recall, always trying out new recipes.
Will and Bonnie are doing a live online interview in the casita later, and we're going to do a porch or indoor dinner before or after. I have made a chicken dish with an Indiana flare because two of my friends raved about it, one being Pam who loaned me her crock pot and some spices to make it happen. Chopping cilantro and garlic and ginger and cutting up pieces of boneless chicken thighs took me forever, but I got it done and now said dish is simmering along on its own. A chocolate birthday cake for Bonnie is on the table (I do like making cakes) and all that's left to do is to boil some corn and heat the naan and make the jasmine rice.
We all have those things we like to do because they energize us and those things we do just because we expect it of ourselves. Cooking for me is in the latter category.
So there. It's official. Cookery is not my thing. I'm quitting--even if this is the best dish ever.
Monday, May 18, 2020
Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist on Hulu
The first episode didn't snag me. I thought it was cheesy. Maybe it still is. But I've managed to get to episode 10 and am willing myself to go to sleep so I will still have a chunk of episodes tomorrow night. I laugh out loud sometimes, and that's a good thing. And on episode 8 or 9, I cried.
I had heard a very positive review of it on NPR a while back, but I still resisted watching. Now I'm hooked.
Maybe it is cheesy in a sweet kind of way. I love cheese. I often use the commercial breaks to make a piece of cheese toast.
Just sayin....
I had heard a very positive review of it on NPR a while back, but I still resisted watching. Now I'm hooked.
Maybe it is cheesy in a sweet kind of way. I love cheese. I often use the commercial breaks to make a piece of cheese toast.
Just sayin....
Sunday, May 17, 2020
Sunday, May 17th
I spent a few minutes today with my tech guy and he helped me unlock my blog and You Tube history again.
It's feast or famine regarding phone calls and today was Feasty, starting with Kate and ending with Pam, with the longest one in the middle being Will.
Bonnie and the kids were in the car this week while Nathan began explaining reproduction to Elena and telling her that the eggs of all female mammals are there from birth. At this point, Bonnie was getting a little nervous about where this conversation might lead. Here is where it did lead:
"So you're telling me I once was an egg!" Elena said....."Then I must have been an upside down egg because I've always been a little....different!"
Our girl loves to be different, expressing her uniqueness in fashion choices, never wearing two socks that match. Today it was a knee sock with eggs on it and a low-cut sock with animals.
"Did you watch Obama last night?" I asked Will--to which he responded, "No, I was too busy traumatizing my daughter."
When the family agreed on a movie, it was "Never-ending Story," a movie I watched with Betty on my 50th birthday to let you know how old it is.
"Okay," Elena asked early in the movie. "Does the horse die?"
"No, I don't think so," Will said.
But in fact the horse did die, never mind that he came back to life again. When his demise occurred, Elena shouted, "This is the worst movie ever! I can't believe you made me watch this terrible movie!"
Apparently, she's over her trauma today. With double-sided tape and scraps of fabric, she made outfits for her turtles.
Today was the 15th birthday of my second-oldest grandson, Marcus. He's a love, that boy! He has the longest eyelashes ever and big blue eyes, making him look like a giant cherub. He's 6'2" already, catching up fast to his big brother's 6'4".
Here are a few of my favorite pictures of Marcus who plays lacrosse, saxophone, and video games....
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARCUS!
It's feast or famine regarding phone calls and today was Feasty, starting with Kate and ending with Pam, with the longest one in the middle being Will.
Bonnie and the kids were in the car this week while Nathan began explaining reproduction to Elena and telling her that the eggs of all female mammals are there from birth. At this point, Bonnie was getting a little nervous about where this conversation might lead. Here is where it did lead:
"So you're telling me I once was an egg!" Elena said....."Then I must have been an upside down egg because I've always been a little....different!"
Our girl loves to be different, expressing her uniqueness in fashion choices, never wearing two socks that match. Today it was a knee sock with eggs on it and a low-cut sock with animals.
"Did you watch Obama last night?" I asked Will--to which he responded, "No, I was too busy traumatizing my daughter."
When the family agreed on a movie, it was "Never-ending Story," a movie I watched with Betty on my 50th birthday to let you know how old it is.
"Okay," Elena asked early in the movie. "Does the horse die?"
"No, I don't think so," Will said.
But in fact the horse did die, never mind that he came back to life again. When his demise occurred, Elena shouted, "This is the worst movie ever! I can't believe you made me watch this terrible movie!"
Apparently, she's over her trauma today. With double-sided tape and scraps of fabric, she made outfits for her turtles.
Today was the 15th birthday of my second-oldest grandson, Marcus. He's a love, that boy! He has the longest eyelashes ever and big blue eyes, making him look like a giant cherub. He's 6'2" already, catching up fast to his big brother's 6'4".
Here are a few of my favorite pictures of Marcus who plays lacrosse, saxophone, and video games....
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARCUS!
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| October 2019 |
Tuesday, May 12, 2020
Get Messy
Nellie and Pam and I are always sending each other links to mixed media, collage, painting and drawing classes we like.
Way back before Sheltering In Place, we took a class called Sketchbook Revival, which then led us to a site called https://getmessyart.com
It's $29 a month but you can cancel any time. The number of classes there is amazing. Yesterday, we watched a really good "Masterclass" by Brandi Kincaid on making commonplace books, and the library of workshops and classes there is full of things I'd like to watch.
This morning I watched a good one on how to use different kinds of inks.
Way back before Sheltering In Place, we took a class called Sketchbook Revival, which then led us to a site called https://getmessyart.com
It's $29 a month but you can cancel any time. The number of classes there is amazing. Yesterday, we watched a really good "Masterclass" by Brandi Kincaid on making commonplace books, and the library of workshops and classes there is full of things I'd like to watch.
This morning I watched a good one on how to use different kinds of inks.
Monday, May 11, 2020
Monday
I woke up with a text ding at 4:30. (I've since discovered that I can turn off notifications from messenger on Facebook, the private post office wherein people send each other notes at all hours.)
Driving then to get a coke, I heard an interview with Vivik H. Murphy (former Surgeon General), the author of a book called Together: The Healing Power of Human Connection in a Sometimes Lonely World.
He talks about the physical and emotional consequences of loneliness--increase in heart disease, depression, Alzheimer's, addictions, etc. I will read the book at some point to find out more, but the topic interests me, in general, always, and I have a few things I'd like to add to the conversation later.
I think I'll call my post "Loneliness comes in different flavors,"--but not today.
Pam made this delicious orzo and shrimp dish yesterday and invited me to share it:"Delivery or pick up options available," she said.
I chose pick up. I hadn't been on her beautiful porch in ages, so we sat six feet apart and chatted for a while, during which she inspired me to join the GetMessyArt community and check out a video she loved on Commonplace Books, which I have spent the last couple of hours doing! I LOVE it when someone tells me about a place, a site, a book, a happening that inspires doing something new or gives a new layer of insight about something I'm already doing.
In person visits have been rare for the past two months--so a porch visit on Mother's Day was much appreciated and enjoyed!
A commonplace book--according to Brandi who teaches a class on it--goes back to the 1500s. It's not an art journal or a diary; it's a collection of ephemera, quotations, recipes, letters, things you find on the street (like other people's grocery lists), lines from songs, plans, ideas.
I'll tell you more about it later (because the idea is very appealing to me)--but first, I need to finish my night's sleep for a couple of hours.
Driving then to get a coke, I heard an interview with Vivik H. Murphy (former Surgeon General), the author of a book called Together: The Healing Power of Human Connection in a Sometimes Lonely World.
He talks about the physical and emotional consequences of loneliness--increase in heart disease, depression, Alzheimer's, addictions, etc. I will read the book at some point to find out more, but the topic interests me, in general, always, and I have a few things I'd like to add to the conversation later.
I think I'll call my post "Loneliness comes in different flavors,"--but not today.
Pam made this delicious orzo and shrimp dish yesterday and invited me to share it:"Delivery or pick up options available," she said.
I chose pick up. I hadn't been on her beautiful porch in ages, so we sat six feet apart and chatted for a while, during which she inspired me to join the GetMessyArt community and check out a video she loved on Commonplace Books, which I have spent the last couple of hours doing! I LOVE it when someone tells me about a place, a site, a book, a happening that inspires doing something new or gives a new layer of insight about something I'm already doing.
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| Pam on her porch With a take home of the most amazing dinner of orzo, shrimp, asparagus, and a cookie shaped like a flower with icing on it. |
In person visits have been rare for the past two months--so a porch visit on Mother's Day was much appreciated and enjoyed!
A commonplace book--according to Brandi who teaches a class on it--goes back to the 1500s. It's not an art journal or a diary; it's a collection of ephemera, quotations, recipes, letters, things you find on the street (like other people's grocery lists), lines from songs, plans, ideas.
I'll tell you more about it later (because the idea is very appealing to me)--but first, I need to finish my night's sleep for a couple of hours.
Sunday, May 10, 2020
Reading on the porch. Birds land on the wooden wagon, dipping into my improvised bird bath--a bowl with water set in the wagon. A cardinal perches on the wooden handle and the others scatter. Boss of the birds.
Reading The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood, I remember the years I learned to read with a pen in my hand. Pen, tea, and book (not even reading glasses yet)--the necessary set up for reading. Also a notebook to keep notes for the essay I'd write about it later.
Before I learned to read with pen in hand, I read for plot and companionship. I still do. But after discovering reading with a pen, I'm also on a search for the writerly equivalent of a painter's brush strokes, color, and composition.
By the time I started a master's degree (ironic title for a woman) I already had two children. I could read their temperatures with my hand, no need for a thermometer. I could read their moods with a glance.
But this was a different kind of reading. The pages were still, unlike children, and you could go back to other pages and make lines and arrows and circles on them.
I felt like a literary detective on the lookout for clues: images, words, and phrases that stopped me in my tracks, sentences that opened up something. Writing essays about literature taught me to pull at threads, see what connected to what, find the underlying patterns.
The Handmaid's Tale yesterday, the follow up Testament today, are dystopian novels by Margaret Atwood. The subject matter is dark. But I don't want to turn away, as I sometimes did when watching the movie version of Handmaid. I read certain passages again and again, noticing the artistry of restraint. The spaces on the page are fuller than spaces ever are on a screen, leaving room to pause and think about how certain unthinkable fictional actions are similar to unthinkable ones in the world today.
In Handmaid's Tale, religious zealots take over the government. There is no diversity of religion or philosophy. Everyone has to believe exactly what the people at the top tell them to believe.
If you want to survive in the new order, you have to do as you're told, especially if you are a woman, worthless except for your ability to bear children for your commander's wife, to be fruitful for them and multiply, for them.
The hierarchy is unquestioned. Obedience is required and the punishment for disobedience is death. Only the people at the top matter.
One thing leads to another. Once a person is de-personalized, she is treated like a disposable object. Democracy is replaced with authoritarianism. The Constitution is replaced with the authorities' literal reading of the Bible. Reading and freedom and asking questions? Absolutely forbidden.
Reading The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood, I remember the years I learned to read with a pen in my hand. Pen, tea, and book (not even reading glasses yet)--the necessary set up for reading. Also a notebook to keep notes for the essay I'd write about it later.
Before I learned to read with pen in hand, I read for plot and companionship. I still do. But after discovering reading with a pen, I'm also on a search for the writerly equivalent of a painter's brush strokes, color, and composition.
By the time I started a master's degree (ironic title for a woman) I already had two children. I could read their temperatures with my hand, no need for a thermometer. I could read their moods with a glance.
But this was a different kind of reading. The pages were still, unlike children, and you could go back to other pages and make lines and arrows and circles on them.
I felt like a literary detective on the lookout for clues: images, words, and phrases that stopped me in my tracks, sentences that opened up something. Writing essays about literature taught me to pull at threads, see what connected to what, find the underlying patterns.
The Handmaid's Tale yesterday, the follow up Testament today, are dystopian novels by Margaret Atwood. The subject matter is dark. But I don't want to turn away, as I sometimes did when watching the movie version of Handmaid. I read certain passages again and again, noticing the artistry of restraint. The spaces on the page are fuller than spaces ever are on a screen, leaving room to pause and think about how certain unthinkable fictional actions are similar to unthinkable ones in the world today.
In Handmaid's Tale, religious zealots take over the government. There is no diversity of religion or philosophy. Everyone has to believe exactly what the people at the top tell them to believe.
If you want to survive in the new order, you have to do as you're told, especially if you are a woman, worthless except for your ability to bear children for your commander's wife, to be fruitful for them and multiply, for them.
The hierarchy is unquestioned. Obedience is required and the punishment for disobedience is death. Only the people at the top matter.
One thing leads to another. Once a person is de-personalized, she is treated like a disposable object. Democracy is replaced with authoritarianism. The Constitution is replaced with the authorities' literal reading of the Bible. Reading and freedom and asking questions? Absolutely forbidden.
Mother's Day in Georgia
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| Thanks to Jocelyn and Bob for sending me photos of their Mother's Day visit with our mother, Carlene |
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| Who is opening a bird feeder from Bob and Jocelyn |
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| And here are Bob and Carlene posing beside the bird bath I sent her from Etsy |
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| Carlene and Jocelyn |
Saturday, May 9, 2020
Mother's Day Eve at My House
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| Will and Nathan trimming limbs and cutting bamboo |
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| Will and Elena trimming dead wood |
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| Bonnie training the crepe myrtle |
Today was a wonderful day!
"I have missed this house so much!" Elena said.
Friday, May 8, 2020
May 8th, Friday
My sweet little Mac returned from her spa trip in record time, looking like new, all cleaned up inside and out, revitalized and happy!
Day shared with me a letter she wrote to her teachers this week and I wanted to share it with you:
Friends,
Today I had a conversation with a friend who told me that all the talk in the community about the heroism of teachers sometimes made them feel like a really high bar had been set, a bar that sometimes felt like a heavy weight. I get that. Hero is a big word.
For the first time in our lifetimes, all parents are seeing firsthand the work we teachers do every day… the planning, the grading, the persuading/nagging/encouraging. They’re seeing that the job is far too big to be explained by the paycheck. They are seeing that the thing that motivates us can only be called one thing: Love. It’s love for the kids they love. It’s love for the kids they don’t even know. It’s love for 30 of them at one time in one class and also for one of them at one time when they need us. For the first time, they can see how big our hearts must be and they can only think of one word to encompass the sudden understanding: hero.
My friend and I talked about the reasons we teach, that prior to the lockdown we got out of bed ready to rock the classroom because we would be able to SEE their faces, understand their joys and sadness, hear their sometimes inappropriate jokes, and watch them act like kids. Now, though, a lot of us have spent so much energy learning the tools and strategically planning the curriculum (thank you for that), that we forgot to plan time to get our number one paycheck – time laughing with our students.
If that’s you, for teacher appreciation week, I’d like to offer you the encouragement to plug in just a LITTLE more time to play with the kids in your classes. Maybe that looks like setting up a Laughter Committee of students who plan a 15 minute online game for the class. Maybe it looks like throwing up a couple of slides with funny or poignant questions and having everyone respond in the chat. Turn on the microphones. Listen to them laugh. Call out some of the funny, beautiful, or honest answers. Here is a document Chrissy and I created as your teacher appreciation gift: Adding Play to Your Class.
Their humanity is the reason we do this job and YOU are the reason they keep working. Give yourself the gift of BE-ing together.
Always in awe of what you do,
Day
Day shared with me a letter she wrote to her teachers this week and I wanted to share it with you:
Friends,
Today I had a conversation with a friend who told me that all the talk in the community about the heroism of teachers sometimes made them feel like a really high bar had been set, a bar that sometimes felt like a heavy weight. I get that. Hero is a big word.
For the first time in our lifetimes, all parents are seeing firsthand the work we teachers do every day… the planning, the grading, the persuading/nagging/encouraging. They’re seeing that the job is far too big to be explained by the paycheck. They are seeing that the thing that motivates us can only be called one thing: Love. It’s love for the kids they love. It’s love for the kids they don’t even know. It’s love for 30 of them at one time in one class and also for one of them at one time when they need us. For the first time, they can see how big our hearts must be and they can only think of one word to encompass the sudden understanding: hero.
My friend and I talked about the reasons we teach, that prior to the lockdown we got out of bed ready to rock the classroom because we would be able to SEE their faces, understand their joys and sadness, hear their sometimes inappropriate jokes, and watch them act like kids. Now, though, a lot of us have spent so much energy learning the tools and strategically planning the curriculum (thank you for that), that we forgot to plan time to get our number one paycheck – time laughing with our students.
If that’s you, for teacher appreciation week, I’d like to offer you the encouragement to plug in just a LITTLE more time to play with the kids in your classes. Maybe that looks like setting up a Laughter Committee of students who plan a 15 minute online game for the class. Maybe it looks like throwing up a couple of slides with funny or poignant questions and having everyone respond in the chat. Turn on the microphones. Listen to them laugh. Call out some of the funny, beautiful, or honest answers. Here is a document Chrissy and I created as your teacher appreciation gift: Adding Play to Your Class.
Their humanity is the reason we do this job and YOU are the reason they keep working. Give yourself the gift of BE-ing together.
Always in awe of what you do,
Day
Wednesday, May 6, 2020
Going on a short vacation
Not me--unfortunately--but my computer. I'm packing her up for a week or so to get her wonky keyboard fixed. All that's left to do before she flies away is to wish you all good health and all good things!
What I have learned during this lockdown so far is a lot. One of them is how good it is to be with the people you love in person. Another is that I so value all this technology when visits are impossible.
I finally started walking this morning--and enjoyed so much listening to On Being with Krista Tippet while photographing flowers and plants in my neighbors' yards.
The softer flowers were swaying in the breeze and refused to stand still for portraits, but these spiky girls in purple posed just right:
What I have learned during this lockdown so far is a lot. One of them is how good it is to be with the people you love in person. Another is that I so value all this technology when visits are impossible.
I finally started walking this morning--and enjoyed so much listening to On Being with Krista Tippet while photographing flowers and plants in my neighbors' yards.
The softer flowers were swaying in the breeze and refused to stand still for portraits, but these spiky girls in purple posed just right:
Tuesday, May 5, 2020
Well, I had a surprise tonight--Pam brought tacos from Los Barrios and we had a shared Cinco de Mayo meal on my porch! It was a lovely night with a nice breeze, good conversation, and yummy food.
While she was here, Michael from Schnabels Hardware delivered a kitchen cart they had put together for me. Cost of assembly plus delivery? Six dollars!
He refused the $20 tip for the man who assembled it and he refused to take money for delivery. "Just tell your friends about us!" he said.
While she was here, Michael from Schnabels Hardware delivered a kitchen cart they had put together for me. Cost of assembly plus delivery? Six dollars!
He refused the $20 tip for the man who assembled it and he refused to take money for delivery. "Just tell your friends about us!" he said.
Tuesday May 5
Happy Cinco de Mayo to you all!
Writing these words in Spanish reminds me of a comment made by Elena a couple of years ago. We were having enchiladas at Bea's and she was eyeing the pastries. I mentioned that while I love Mexican food in general, I don't care for their pastries.
She looked at me as a parent looks at a child who's said something wrong. "Yenna, I don't think you can say that to me," she said. "Because I think I am a little bit Mexican."
Two of my grands are "a little bit Mexican," but it took my then-six-year-old granddaughter to educate me on political correctness and etiquette--even though I still don't like Mexican pastries.
Writing these words in Spanish reminds me of a comment made by Elena a couple of years ago. We were having enchiladas at Bea's and she was eyeing the pastries. I mentioned that while I love Mexican food in general, I don't care for their pastries.
She looked at me as a parent looks at a child who's said something wrong. "Yenna, I don't think you can say that to me," she said. "Because I think I am a little bit Mexican."
Two of my grands are "a little bit Mexican," but it took my then-six-year-old granddaughter to educate me on political correctness and etiquette--even though I still don't like Mexican pastries.
Monday, May 4, 2020
Monday, May 4th
"There are no paragons of virtue in my books," Margaret Atwood said. "Because there are no paragons of virtue, including ourselves, in life. Yes, there is cruelty in my books because there is cruelty in life."
I ended Sunday with a documentary on the life and work of Margaret Atwood, HULU. I started today by ordering Kindle samples of The Handmaid's Tale and The Testaments. The latter was a follow up to the Handmaid's Tale and inspired by the election of Donald Trump.
Day sent me some new earplugs as an inspiration to walk--which I'll also begin today.
But first--after being up and getting a lot accomplished since four a.m., I'm going to curl up in bed and read Atwood and probably take a little nap.
I ended Sunday with a documentary on the life and work of Margaret Atwood, HULU. I started today by ordering Kindle samples of The Handmaid's Tale and The Testaments. The latter was a follow up to the Handmaid's Tale and inspired by the election of Donald Trump.
Day sent me some new earplugs as an inspiration to walk--which I'll also begin today.
But first--after being up and getting a lot accomplished since four a.m., I'm going to curl up in bed and read Atwood and probably take a little nap.
Sunday, May 3, 2020
Sunday, May 3
If anyone needs an excellent tech advisor, Freda gave me the name of her guy--and I'm back up and running in no time. He can work on Macs and the Other Guys remotely, so it doesn't matter where you call from. He's very affordable, efficient, and easy to work with.
I love it when tech guys say, "Oh, that's no problem! We'll fix it!"
Daniel Carlin
818 590 4733
This has been a very good week for me! I've gotten to go to Helotes twice, watch Elena and Bonnie ride their horses, play Clue and have dinner on the porch, listen to Elena and her daddy sing some duets, and meet the two guinea pigs that Nathan and Elena have been saving their money to buy.
On the night Nathan was home, I didn't get many photos because we were so busy playing Clue and watching the guinea pigs, Lightning and Nala.
Life in the country is so much fun!
I love it when tech guys say, "Oh, that's no problem! We'll fix it!"
Daniel Carlin
818 590 4733
This has been a very good week for me! I've gotten to go to Helotes twice, watch Elena and Bonnie ride their horses, play Clue and have dinner on the porch, listen to Elena and her daddy sing some duets, and meet the two guinea pigs that Nathan and Elena have been saving their money to buy.
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| Our Helotes version of Fiesta |
On the night Nathan was home, I didn't get many photos because we were so busy playing Clue and watching the guinea pigs, Lightning and Nala.
Life in the country is so much fun!
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