OK, my favorite singer ever was Cat Stevens. I wore out a couple of his albums and was devastated when he converted to Islam, changed his name to Yusaf Islam and stopped recording. He disappeared into his life of prayer and devotion and left me deeply respecting his life choice and yet begrudging his leaving me.
Bern and I were watching the Thunder/Spurs game and she kept flipping back to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductions because Cat Stevens was to be one of the inductees. Neither of us believed he would be there--Linda Ronstat wasn't, after all. But after Kiss was inducted (Josh's favorite band when he was a young child--Bern used to paint his face like their's) there was Art Garfunkle, of all people, introducing Cat Stevens.
Not only was he there, dressed as you expect middle-class Arabs to be--a coat, a collar-less shirt, a vest and comfortable pants--and he sang three songs.
I had almost forgotten how wondrous his music and lyrics were. The third, and last song was Peace Train. Amazing....
God (Allah) bless him in his new life. He, as a gray haired man, can still sing the shit out of a song......
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Thursday, May 29, 2014
In full bloom
The Rhododendron around our house is in full bloom. We have three plants that hang around the edge of our deck and three in front of our front porch and one on the side yard that I transplanted from the deck area and is 12 feet high and about to collapse under the weight of the blooms.
Rhododendron, which my spell check underlines in red but won't give me an option to for spelling, is the state flower of West Virginia. Some call it Mountain Laural, but I prefer the long name.
In early May, when I was a kid, would load me in the car and we'd go Rhododendron looking the way people in New England go 'leafing' in the fall.
A thousand shades of green would be interrupted all across Peal Chestnut Mountain and down through the little towns along RT. 52 until we went up Elkhorn Mountain and back home.
Our Mountain Laural is pale purple, but back home there were pink and deep red variates as well. It was wondrous, all the color among the endless shades of green.
Green is a color with endless shades, if you ponder 'green' for a while.
Rhododendron, which my spell check underlines in red but won't give me an option to for spelling, is the state flower of West Virginia. Some call it Mountain Laural, but I prefer the long name.
In early May, when I was a kid, would load me in the car and we'd go Rhododendron looking the way people in New England go 'leafing' in the fall.
A thousand shades of green would be interrupted all across Peal Chestnut Mountain and down through the little towns along RT. 52 until we went up Elkhorn Mountain and back home.
Our Mountain Laural is pale purple, but back home there were pink and deep red variates as well. It was wondrous, all the color among the endless shades of green.
Green is a color with endless shades, if you ponder 'green' for a while.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
My baby girl's getting married...
I've known it for a long time. I've longed for it much longer. But today it hit me for the first time that my baby girl is getting married in October.
I couldn't be happier for her and for Tim. Tim and Mimi have been a couple for over a decade. They've lived together for most of that time. I was used to that and it seemed right. Then, six months or so ago (my problem with linear time and all!) they got engaged.
Delighted as I was, it seemed perfectly normal and I settled into that.
Then, for the last few days, we've been making reservations for the hotel in Brooklyn and it hit me between the eyes--my baby girl is getting married....
Even while I was getting permission from the Diocese of Long Island (Brooklyn is part of that Diocese, go figure...) and the City Clerk of New York City to officiate at their wedding, it didn't totally sink in. Mimi's getting married.....
Tim is one of the best guys ever. He's a computer guru (works for Linked In) and a talented musician. He went to Bennington with Mimi, a year ahead and just friends. And when both of them were in NYC, they found each other in a real way.
For the last five years or so (somewhere between 3 and 6--linear time and all that...) Tim and Mimi have gone to Oak Island, North Carolina with us for a week in September, just after Labor Day when no one with kids are there. We went to Oak Island for almost 20 years (until the kids didn't want to be in such an isolated place for several weeks). The first time was after my first year at Virginia Seminary, with three other couples from my class, two of whom were from North Carolina and had known the place. The second summer, Bern was pregnant with Josh. Every year after that until Josh (in high school) didn't even want to go if he took a friend. Then, over a decade later, Mimi called and asked where it was we used to go so she and Tim could go. After that she insisted we needed to go together and we have, along with John and Sherry, two old friends. It's always a blast and Tim is an integral part of it all.
We love him. I introduced him, even before this marriage thing, as "almost my son-in-law".
I couldn't be more delighted.
But she's my baby girl--certainly not a baby or a girl anymore--a full grown woman who makes more money than I ever did as a Development Officer for Jacob's Pillow, a dance place in the Berkshires. She has two apartments...one in Brooklyn and the other in Stockbridge, MA. She is frighteningly smart, remarkably kind and beautiful as can be.
I've been looking at the pictures of her scattered about our house. Three of them are my favorites. First, she's 3 in a tank top and shorts, running recklessly down a hill in my father's yard, face as serious and intense as only a 3 year old can have running recklessly. The second is in a door way in the suite Bern and I stayed in when Josh was graduating from Law School. Her arms are thrown out like a character in a Broadway Musical and she is smiling to beat the band. And my favorite of all is one time took of the side of her face when she was smiling and her dimple looks like a hole in her face. (My second cousin, Kim, who is maybe ten years younger than Mimi, took me aside when she was 5 and Mimi was 15 and said, in a whisper, "Mimi has holes in her cheeks!" That's how pronounced Mimi's dimples are when she smiles.
She was the worst baby ever for the first six months--crying, arching her back when you tried to hold her, never sleeping. Then, at six months, something in her brain flipped and she became the most charming, wondrous, engaging child ever. And as an adult, none of that has changed.
Sometimes, she calls me 'Baba', what she called me as a small child. I have a photo of her taken in Australia when she was there, tan and lovely and holding a post-it note that says, "Hi, Baba"...how did I leave that out of my favorite pictures of her...?
And she's getting married. Be still my heart....
I couldn't be happier for her and for Tim. Tim and Mimi have been a couple for over a decade. They've lived together for most of that time. I was used to that and it seemed right. Then, six months or so ago (my problem with linear time and all!) they got engaged.
Delighted as I was, it seemed perfectly normal and I settled into that.
Then, for the last few days, we've been making reservations for the hotel in Brooklyn and it hit me between the eyes--my baby girl is getting married....
Even while I was getting permission from the Diocese of Long Island (Brooklyn is part of that Diocese, go figure...) and the City Clerk of New York City to officiate at their wedding, it didn't totally sink in. Mimi's getting married.....
Tim is one of the best guys ever. He's a computer guru (works for Linked In) and a talented musician. He went to Bennington with Mimi, a year ahead and just friends. And when both of them were in NYC, they found each other in a real way.
For the last five years or so (somewhere between 3 and 6--linear time and all that...) Tim and Mimi have gone to Oak Island, North Carolina with us for a week in September, just after Labor Day when no one with kids are there. We went to Oak Island for almost 20 years (until the kids didn't want to be in such an isolated place for several weeks). The first time was after my first year at Virginia Seminary, with three other couples from my class, two of whom were from North Carolina and had known the place. The second summer, Bern was pregnant with Josh. Every year after that until Josh (in high school) didn't even want to go if he took a friend. Then, over a decade later, Mimi called and asked where it was we used to go so she and Tim could go. After that she insisted we needed to go together and we have, along with John and Sherry, two old friends. It's always a blast and Tim is an integral part of it all.
We love him. I introduced him, even before this marriage thing, as "almost my son-in-law".
I couldn't be more delighted.
But she's my baby girl--certainly not a baby or a girl anymore--a full grown woman who makes more money than I ever did as a Development Officer for Jacob's Pillow, a dance place in the Berkshires. She has two apartments...one in Brooklyn and the other in Stockbridge, MA. She is frighteningly smart, remarkably kind and beautiful as can be.
I've been looking at the pictures of her scattered about our house. Three of them are my favorites. First, she's 3 in a tank top and shorts, running recklessly down a hill in my father's yard, face as serious and intense as only a 3 year old can have running recklessly. The second is in a door way in the suite Bern and I stayed in when Josh was graduating from Law School. Her arms are thrown out like a character in a Broadway Musical and she is smiling to beat the band. And my favorite of all is one time took of the side of her face when she was smiling and her dimple looks like a hole in her face. (My second cousin, Kim, who is maybe ten years younger than Mimi, took me aside when she was 5 and Mimi was 15 and said, in a whisper, "Mimi has holes in her cheeks!" That's how pronounced Mimi's dimples are when she smiles.
She was the worst baby ever for the first six months--crying, arching her back when you tried to hold her, never sleeping. Then, at six months, something in her brain flipped and she became the most charming, wondrous, engaging child ever. And as an adult, none of that has changed.
Sometimes, she calls me 'Baba', what she called me as a small child. I have a photo of her taken in Australia when she was there, tan and lovely and holding a post-it note that says, "Hi, Baba"...how did I leave that out of my favorite pictures of her...?
And she's getting married. Be still my heart....
Memorial Day
We went to Baltimore Saturday morning and came back Tuesday. I meant to write something last night but was too worn out from driving and three days with little girls!
While we were there we went to Fort McKinley, where the Star Spangled Banner was written by Francis Scott Keys after one of the battles of the War of 1812. I'm not a big fan of visiting historic places, but Fort McKinley was really great. A video about the battle in the visitor's center was great and ended with everyone singing the SSB. And the Fort is pristine and well restored. The girls' favorite spot was a barracks because there was an old fashioned broom there. They took turns sweeping, over and over. Anytime there was a lull they'd run back there to sweep! (If only they got that focused about picking up toys and clothes....)
It was there that I witnessed an example of what I call: It's A Wonder Our Children Don't Kill Us the First Chance They Get.
A man wanted to take his toddler's picture. The little boy, for whatever reason (probably just because he was sick of having his picture taken!) wanted no part of it and kept walking away until he came to a wall--his father pleading for him to turn around all the way. The boy put his head down on the wall, hoping that would put an end to the whole picture taking thing. Then his father said, "Look, candy!" The boy turned around for candy and got his picture taken instead. Immediately, he burst into tears....
We went to a sea food restaurant with Cathy's parents and had a crab fest. There was wrapping paper on the tables and the waitress just dumped the crabs out. We used to eat crabs a lot when the kids were little and we'd go to North Carolina for three weeks every summer. I caught most of them--a nasty bit of work involving a piece of twine, a rotten chicken back, a sinker and a net. Crabbing was guaranteed to give you sunburn, fly bites and ankles bitten by shrimp. But I loved it.
But it's been years since I'd eaten crabs and, though it's sort of like riding a bike, the process comes back to you, my hands were a lot younger back then. Tearing the crabs apart started giving me cramps in my hands after a while. Tegan and Morgan ate as much as anyone would pick for them but Emma wanted no part of it! Between us, we ate 18 medium and a dozen large crabs. Messy business but oh, so good....
On the way back, we started listening to 880 AM to see how the traffic was. When we got on the Jersey Turnpike we were told there was at least a 2 hour delay on the GW Bridge. By the time we got there it was more like 10 minutes and I thanked the Baby Jesus that I didn't go through the Holland Tunnel like I thought about doing. All my travel in New York is by subway so I wasn't even sure where the Holland Tunnel came out but thought I could find the West Side Highway.
I went to pick up the Puli at the Kennel and he was much better in the car than usual. For one think I had on the classical music station and I think that suited him better than NPR talk...the half a baggie of treats I fed him bit by bit when he didn't bark may have contributed as well!
While we were there we went to Fort McKinley, where the Star Spangled Banner was written by Francis Scott Keys after one of the battles of the War of 1812. I'm not a big fan of visiting historic places, but Fort McKinley was really great. A video about the battle in the visitor's center was great and ended with everyone singing the SSB. And the Fort is pristine and well restored. The girls' favorite spot was a barracks because there was an old fashioned broom there. They took turns sweeping, over and over. Anytime there was a lull they'd run back there to sweep! (If only they got that focused about picking up toys and clothes....)
It was there that I witnessed an example of what I call: It's A Wonder Our Children Don't Kill Us the First Chance They Get.
A man wanted to take his toddler's picture. The little boy, for whatever reason (probably just because he was sick of having his picture taken!) wanted no part of it and kept walking away until he came to a wall--his father pleading for him to turn around all the way. The boy put his head down on the wall, hoping that would put an end to the whole picture taking thing. Then his father said, "Look, candy!" The boy turned around for candy and got his picture taken instead. Immediately, he burst into tears....
We went to a sea food restaurant with Cathy's parents and had a crab fest. There was wrapping paper on the tables and the waitress just dumped the crabs out. We used to eat crabs a lot when the kids were little and we'd go to North Carolina for three weeks every summer. I caught most of them--a nasty bit of work involving a piece of twine, a rotten chicken back, a sinker and a net. Crabbing was guaranteed to give you sunburn, fly bites and ankles bitten by shrimp. But I loved it.
But it's been years since I'd eaten crabs and, though it's sort of like riding a bike, the process comes back to you, my hands were a lot younger back then. Tearing the crabs apart started giving me cramps in my hands after a while. Tegan and Morgan ate as much as anyone would pick for them but Emma wanted no part of it! Between us, we ate 18 medium and a dozen large crabs. Messy business but oh, so good....
On the way back, we started listening to 880 AM to see how the traffic was. When we got on the Jersey Turnpike we were told there was at least a 2 hour delay on the GW Bridge. By the time we got there it was more like 10 minutes and I thanked the Baby Jesus that I didn't go through the Holland Tunnel like I thought about doing. All my travel in New York is by subway so I wasn't even sure where the Holland Tunnel came out but thought I could find the West Side Highway.
I went to pick up the Puli at the Kennel and he was much better in the car than usual. For one think I had on the classical music station and I think that suited him better than NPR talk...the half a baggie of treats I fed him bit by bit when he didn't bark may have contributed as well!
Friday, May 23, 2014
Going away
We're taking the dog in the morning to Holiday Hills in Wallingford and then driving to Baltimore until Tuesday.
I'll take my lap top and try to post something--but three grand-daughters take up a lot of time! Joyfully.
See you then or on Tuesday.....
Be well and stay well, my friends.....
I'll take my lap top and try to post something--but three grand-daughters take up a lot of time! Joyfully.
See you then or on Tuesday.....
Be well and stay well, my friends.....
Connecticut Spring
One of the joys of Connecticut is that we really have four distinct seasons. And when Spring come it comes with a vengeance!
Where only a few weeks ago, there was dirt, plants now thrive. The hostas and ferns are back in our side yard; the 6 rhododendron plants are about to burst into bloom: in our back yard alone, there much be "50 Shades of Green" which are a lot more life-giving and inspiring than the gray shades.
Tulips and daffodils came early, before the host of flowers and fauna that are now exploding all around us.
It is rained most of the day, on and off, (I wish we could outsource some of our rain to California) which is making more things wake up.
Spring and the growth of things is something that makes me hopeful that life really does triumph over death in the end. I ponder that every year. Late may is a tad late for the final and irrevocable arrival of Spring, but I'll take it with joy and gratitude....
Where only a few weeks ago, there was dirt, plants now thrive. The hostas and ferns are back in our side yard; the 6 rhododendron plants are about to burst into bloom: in our back yard alone, there much be "50 Shades of Green" which are a lot more life-giving and inspiring than the gray shades.
Tulips and daffodils came early, before the host of flowers and fauna that are now exploding all around us.
It is rained most of the day, on and off, (I wish we could outsource some of our rain to California) which is making more things wake up.
Spring and the growth of things is something that makes me hopeful that life really does triumph over death in the end. I ponder that every year. Late may is a tad late for the final and irrevocable arrival of Spring, but I'll take it with joy and gratitude....
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Vanity, Vanity, all is Vanity...
I went into the package store where I buy wine to buy wine and a guy was there who I sometimes see late at night or on weekends. He obviously has another job and this is just a part-time guy.
I was the priest at his marriage--that I know--but I can't for the life of me remember his name. He still has a wedding ring on but I don't ask about his marriage. He's very friendly, though, so things must be OK...I only pray....
He has a goatee and I mentioned there were so gray hairs in there. He laughed. And then, for no reason I currently understand, told him something only a few people know.
My beard, which I've had since I was 25 except for two small interludes, started turning white when I was 35. So I colored it until I turned 40. At that point my hair was still dark brown and I thought--"I'm 40, I shouldn't be vain any more" and stopped coloring it.
It came in all white, as it still is 37 years later--not that I expected it to go brown or red or anything again.
And what was interesting is that people who knew me then knew something was different but not what. For months people said to me things like "are you OK?" and "how are you feeling?" and "anything up with you?"
Then my hair started turning white, so it didn't matter any more.
(The only two times I've cut my beard since I was 25 was once when we were going to Oak Island, North Carolina for vacation. Josh was maybe 6 and Mimi maybe 3. We stopped at a motel on the way and I cut my beard so I had a goatee that night. The day we arrived, I cut the rest off and my children were horrified and wouldn't have anything to do with me for several days.
The only other time was when I was on Block Island for two weeks by myself. And when I looked in the mirror I looked like John Goodman and immediately willed my beard to grow back super fast....)
I was the priest at his marriage--that I know--but I can't for the life of me remember his name. He still has a wedding ring on but I don't ask about his marriage. He's very friendly, though, so things must be OK...I only pray....
He has a goatee and I mentioned there were so gray hairs in there. He laughed. And then, for no reason I currently understand, told him something only a few people know.
My beard, which I've had since I was 25 except for two small interludes, started turning white when I was 35. So I colored it until I turned 40. At that point my hair was still dark brown and I thought--"I'm 40, I shouldn't be vain any more" and stopped coloring it.
It came in all white, as it still is 37 years later--not that I expected it to go brown or red or anything again.
And what was interesting is that people who knew me then knew something was different but not what. For months people said to me things like "are you OK?" and "how are you feeling?" and "anything up with you?"
Then my hair started turning white, so it didn't matter any more.
(The only two times I've cut my beard since I was 25 was once when we were going to Oak Island, North Carolina for vacation. Josh was maybe 6 and Mimi maybe 3. We stopped at a motel on the way and I cut my beard so I had a goatee that night. The day we arrived, I cut the rest off and my children were horrified and wouldn't have anything to do with me for several days.
The only other time was when I was on Block Island for two weeks by myself. And when I looked in the mirror I looked like John Goodman and immediately willed my beard to grow back super fast....)
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