National Dog Day

On our walk this morning, we took a break and looked over the fence at the Carma and Jan Show.  

When Jan waters, Carma jumps like a crazy girl, wild and free.  She loves the hose!

Luci does not.  She tugs at me, "Let's go before Jan points that water at me!"

Later, we headed out for groceries and stopped by the beautiful Mockingbird Handprints shop on McCollough.  I had read on Facebook that Jane got a new puppy and we wanted to meet her--a precious Goldendoodle puppy named Ruby.

Ruby is going to be a big girl!  At 8 weeks, she already outweighs Luci. 

I worked on some projects all afternoon, then took Luci to Cappy's for dinner--a place she loves because she gets so much attention.  A bowl of water and pats on her back.

A father and his three small children were among the several diners who came by to meet Luci.  "We might be hard to understand for you," the middle boy said.  "Because we live across the sea in another country."

"What country?" I asked.

"Nazareth," he said. 

This little guy, apparently the spokesperson for the family, was about seven.  He knelt down and petted Luci.  "I want a puppy very much," he said.  "But we have to wait until we find one that doesn't poop on the floor."

I reminded him that all puppies poop on the floor at first.  "You just have to teach them not to," I said.

And then he said--in unison with his dad--"The parents have to teach them that." 

Final doggie of the day. posted by Joy on Facebook.  Oliver is a handsome 115-pounder with boundless energy, a very good dog indeed!

Here's to all the dogs we love, the dogs who love us back in spades! 

This is what 97 looks like on Craig Drive, Lawrenceville, Georgia

                                                Later in the day, 97 still looks spectacular! 

And her display of cards!

Thank you, Bob and Jocelyn, for these wonderful photos! 

Flowers from the Pritchett family:

First Day of School

I always loved the first day of school!  The smell of big fat crayons, the steam hovering over the lunch room ladies, and meeting the new teacher. I loved the smell and feel of new textbooks filled with things I didn't know yet. And the library--what a wonderful place, even if the librarian, Miss Virginia, was a grumpy chain-smoker with a cane who'd rap your fingers if you touched anything on her desk--or so I've heard! 

In elementary school, we wore dresses and saddle oxfords, never pants.  The week before school all the way through to college Carlene sewed a closet-full of skirts and dresses and I sat beside her watching fabric roll under the presser foot. Then we shopped for new shoes, one pair for school and one for Sundays.  

Elena said she was "devastated" that one of her best friends isn't in her fifth grade class--though she didn't look devastated when she announced this.  (I'm not sure she knows what devastated feels like.)

So today my four grands started school--Jackson a junior at VCU, Marcus the editor in chief of the high school paper and lacrosse player, Nathan a sophomore who plays percussion instruments in the band and drives with a learner's permit, and Elena a chicken-loving horse-riding fifth grader.  Day and Marcus are at the same high school within walking distance of their house.

It's a tradition to take a photo the first day of school and the last.  Here they are, my precious babies in various stages of growing up:

The night before the first day of fifth grade

This will be the last first day at Helotes Elementary School.
We have first and last days of every year there for Will and Day, too. 

After school, this picture along with this text from Elena:
"First day went well! 
We're listening to eggs chirp before they hatch.
Ten chicks and counting." 

August 20th

One of the 18 chicks didn't make it.  Nine have hatched at last count, but I'm guessing poor little Ghost is tired of sitting all weekend and may do whatever mama chickens do to hurry things along. 

I've been FaceTiming with Elena through the weekend and visited yesterday as she sat watch for hatchings and lovingly held each chick and told them their names.

It's a thrill to see a child so engrossed in animals--and Elena's engrossed in everything, especially her spirit animals, chickens. 

It's a family affair--as you can see.  To see new life emerging from tiny shells brings a lot of joy!

Later they went to hear the first band performance of the night and Bonnie sent me this photo with the caption: "Daddy's Girl." 

A tiny little eye feast this Friday morning

Yesterday, Elena FaceTimed me to show me the first hatchling. Its name (already inscribed on his or her shell in Magic Marker) is Blueberry Wine.  I'll call it Blue for short since it barely weighs anything and the full name is so heavy. 

"Feast your eyes!" she said as she held out the little black chick for me to admire.

As requested, Luci and I will be there early.  As of last night, there were 17 more and she could hear their faint chirps through the shells.  Elena wants us to see some hatching at the Helotes Hatchery.  

The doc yesterday eliminated vascular reasons for my foot pain and advised I get a really good pair of tennis shoes, walking shoes, sports shoes--whatever you call them.  I have high arches and the pain could be coming from falling arches as I live my life barefoot or in sandals.  "Anyway," she said, "You're at the age when like a car things just start breaking down every few years. "

Ugh oh!  

But at least there's a temporary remedy: Getting new shoes and feasting my eyes--both of which are on my to-do list this morning. 

Outside the Box

This summer has been a medical mystery tour--a series of docs, bi-weekly visits to an excellent PT, tests galore, massages by Gabi Marcus--all to determine the cause of my painful lower legs, some days better than others.  My PT today said, "Since all your tests so far have been coming back just right [cardiology, pulmonomlogy, rheumatology, etc.] and since the arthritis doc doesn't think it's a vascular issue, let's think outside the box."

Other than that, I'm having a wonderful playful summer of learning from artists who have provided excellent videos I can watch while down and do while up. 

I made a non-book paper present for Carlene's 97th birthday and posted it to the Handmade Book Club on FB.  So far I've gotten 250 positive comments (the best being "I want to make this for......"). Imitation is indeed the highest form of flattery.  I'll post the picture Jan made after Carlene opens her gift on the 24th. 

It's my week to provide the prompts for my email writing group.  Here's today's prompt and Jan's response, so good I had to share it.

The prompt: When things go off the rails, what do you do to get back on?"

Jan's wisdom: 

Eat a slice or two of pizza.  It may not help, but it’ll make your taste buds tingle.

Say a prayer.  Patience is required as you await a magical transformation.

Take your pooch for a walk.  You’ll burn off the pizza calories and although you’re still off the rails, your dog is happy.

Chat with a friend.  If she listens, you’re on the mend.  Empathy heals.

Chat with someone who needs a friend.  You may still be off the rails, but you’ve cheered someone else.

Grab a paintbrush or pencil, go to your sewing machine or piano, dig around in your garden, sit down at your computer … and create something.  Anything.  It may be amateurish, self-pitying, socially questionable, but if it’s yours and it’s original, the effort will put you on a healing path.

Now, make a pizza or bake a cake or cook a big, healthy pot of soup and share it with someone.

 

Pray again.  This time for rain, for peace in all the world, for healing of our planet, for music to replace the madness, for love to transcend everything, for forgiveness for your crappy attitude when your life is really quite bountiful.

 

Go for another walk. This time, marvel at Nature’s bounty: the amazing colors, magical growth of a majestic tree or blooming shrub or tomato plant bursting with fruit, each born from a tiny seed.

 

Call a friend and let her talk.  Really listen.

 

Deliver your pizza or cake or soup to someone who needs a friend.

 

Keep creating art, music, poetry, anything that satisfies your soul.

 

Pretty soon, you’ve slipped back onto the rails without even noticing how it happened.

Recycling of cool stuff

Luci and spent the morning at thrift shops--the Assistance League, Green Door, and Goodwill.  She loves it as much as I do because she occasionally meets another dog there--like the adorable papillon she met this morning, the first dog she's met who's smaller than she is.  Pippa was a beautiful little black and white puppy. 

At another, she met many people who gave her love.  One was a man who showed me the picture of his beloved pup, a blind dog he'd adopted and named Faith.  His little white terrier-mix had been born with no eyes.  "So she doesn't know anything different," he said.  "She is such a happy dog." The man's friend  showed me pictures of her two chihuahuas and said, "Dog lovers are the best people in the world."  

We saw  the sofa I'd have bought--but the cost of recovering the $25 sofa with great bones was $1600 labor plus 17 yards of fabric.  Solid wood and cat-shredded upholstery, it would have beat most new sofas on the market. 

I bought a glass paper tray for $4.  Solid glass connected with brass screws--it's likely older than I am.  I imagined it might have been used in my mother's typing class in high school.  You can't buy a plastic version for that price.

The artistry in vintage birthday cards often outshines Hallmark--floral and nature designs on the cards and envelopes.  Hallmark's sales overshadowed all other brands when they came up with "When you care enough to send the very best." Recipients of my cards may think I'm a cheap-card-buyer, but I'm calling them the very very best.

I came home with a small stash of cards, the paper tray, and three Simplicity patterns (25 cents each) because I like using the tissue in collages. I didn't have any luck finding the antique clipboards I was looking for--maybe next week. 

We didn't go into Family Thrift but the parking was packed.  "Everything a Dollar" it said on the door. We almost went in, but they only sell clothes and I wasn't in the market for clothes today.  I prefer cards and old office products to hold art supplies. 

In the last few months, I've started recycling my home trash full on.  Instead of two regular trash pick ups a week,  I now have only one full trash bin every two weeks--and half a recycling bin of paper, boxes, and cans every Wednesday.  Whenever possible, Will brings their recycling to add to mine since they don't have recycle pick ups in Helotes. 

It's a small step toward reducing the footprint of one person's life, but it's raised my consciousness about all the plastic and junk that ends up in landfills.  Thrift shops are filled with shoppers looking for treasures and having fun conversations with other shoppers.  Nobody is in a hurry; we're all just leisurely poking around for surprises.  

I also donate to these places--and highly recommend it.  Boysville, Assistance League, and Green Door  are staffed by volunteers and the money from sales helps families and children. It's definitely a win-win all around when your trash becomes somebody else's treasure. 

Buffalo Bills

For Marcus' entire life, whenever the Buffalo Bills play, the whole family dresses up to watch the game.  

Tom's family is originally from Buffalo, so the loyalty to their team is strong.  It's  party night in Falls Church, Virginia! 

What it might mean to be a slut--at 82!

So Jan wrote a poem about her 82-year-old friend Edna.  When her 96-year-old friend called and needed something urgently, Edna (St. Edna!) left the gym in her spandex and drove quite a distance to assist her friend. 

Later, Jan wrote this wonderful poem about her saintly Lutheran friend:

Saint Edna the Slut

Saint Edna was an Irishwoman 

who lived near the River Shannon.

Catholic churches in her name

Welcome all in charity, justice and hope.

Lutherans don’t confer sainthood,

At least not cavalierly or formally.

But the Saint Edna I know 

Was christened by Lutheran friends and pastors

For her saintly ways.

Although saintliness can be

Lackluster, my Saint Edna 

Also offers up a spicy, feisty side

That adds colorful dimension to her character.

She’s been accused, for instance,

Of dressing like a slut

By a 96-year-old woman who loves her

And has been the recipient of Saint Edna’s beneficence.

This new title, Slut, was conferred in a loving manner

And pays homage to Saint Edna’s external beauty

While her sainthood honors her inner beauty.

For how many octogenarians can be accused 

Of dressing like a slut to show off their comely figure?

Jan Schubert-Norris

Joyful Day, Joy's Birthday

Yesterday, Bonnie hosted the birthday group at her house to celebrate Joy--our painter, book illustrator, jewelry maker, master naturalist.  Joy stopped by my house for a minute on our way and gave me "an early birthday present"--a pin she made replicating Luci to perfection! 

We'd all agreed to "stop with the birthday presents already," that we wanted each others' presence instead of presents.  It's a good rule especially since we are all letting go of things in our semi-old ages.  But rules are made to be broken, especially if you are browsing in the thrift shop and you find a vintage 1949 magazine cover that has your friend's name written all over it or if you are making jewelry and feel inspired to create a dog just like Luci. 

The purple, the leaves and birds, and the pretty little girl all reminded me of Joy and her paintings.

Later she sent me pictures of herself at her third birthday party--classic Joy! 

Joy at 3

Joy at 73

One thing these two birthday parties (70 years apart) have in common: four friends to celebrate

--though the latter one lacked balloons and candles. 

Now we four are septuagenarians: 

But we never let a birthday pass without some delicious food and conversation. 

Spirit Animals

My granddaughter Elena has never met an animal she doesn't like.  Horses, cats, dogs, exotic animals, birds, chickens, you name it.  When she went to Peru and Columbia, she choses not to partake of cooked guinea pigs.

She told her dad recently,  "Chickens are my spirit animals."  

Last week, one of her chickens laid eggs.  This morning, Will sent me a text showing that she is naming the eggs already!

She is amazed that she can hold each egg up to the light and (candling) and see the unhatched chicks inside.

When she was about two, I noticed that whenever she heard a bird, she would imitate its sound with such accuracy that the bird would answer her!  I said, "Did you hear that, Elena?  The bird thinks you're a bird!"  A new inhabitant in this world, she wasn't particularly impressed with her own skill at bird singing.  She looked at me like, "Can't everybody do that?" 

Every Easter, Papi gives her a dozen chicks.  Most don't make it until the next Easter.  But this year, she and her dad made a safe house for chickens and every one has a name--just like every bird in every chicken batch all her life.  The mama of this particular brood is named Ghost.  

When she and Nathan came on Thursday, she noticed feathers in my antique red scale.  She picked them all up and identified them.  The big one she said was probably "either a hawk or an owl feather."  It hadn't even occurred to me to wonder what bird each feather had been attached to! 

I pick them up on my walks just because they are pretty. 

Light as three feathers

I guess my spirit animal is a fluffy little dog named Luci.  But my spirit girl is a ten-year-old artist/scientist/observer named Elena! 

August is here!

Last night, I got to wear my new Made-By-Janet blouse to a party of three, five counting the dogs, Ranger and Luci! 

It's ironic that I've known and loved both Sylvia and Carolyn since our twenties, yet had never been with them at the same time until last night.  Sylvia, recovering from a fall and doing well, and Carolyn (our husbands were colleagues at SAC and we met at an art show in the early 70s) met for dinner at Sylvia's house.  They know each other because Carolyn, a VP at Santa Rosa Hospital, worked alongside Peter, Sylvia's husband. 

So we packed a lot of memories into our short visit!

Sylvia and Carolyn

It's a wonderful thing, when we're all septuagenarians, to have fifty years of memories and friendship!

Meanwhile, the weekend has been filled with my attempts to make little books for my class. I joined the Handmade Book Club and highly recommend it to anyone who's interested in learning some new maneuvers with paints and papers.  To whet your appetite, I will include a few screenshots of books made by the more experienced members of the club.