And now it is New Year's Eve, time for making resolutions. Another fresh start, which--since I fell off this blog three weeks ago--I am in sore need of. We had a great time with the girl grandchildren on a visit to their place for several days. Now we are back and unpacked and I have brought order from disorder, in the main rooms at least.
I got stuck when trying to decide whether to finish the story of Miss Bianca, tell about the Bike Build of Turning Wheels for Kids that I went to on December 13th, or tell you about a recently found Robert Bly poem, or a list of poetic qualities by Marvin Bell I discovered in an outdated book I was throwing out--and ripped therefrom. If you can stick it out, I will return to all of these, but it will have to be in 2009.
In November of 1999 I retired, and the most of the resolutions made at that time are still far from complete. But I have been having a lot of fun, and this blog has been a big part of it. Apologies for the long absence, and HAPPY NEW YEAR. I'll be back, and plan to make this the first year with more than 300 posts. It should be a good year for both Photography and Poetry!
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Saturday, December 06, 2008
Miss Bianca's most elegant white whiskers
For many years we all lived happily together. S called them in in the evening and fed them, and they slept in the garage. Another untouchable feral kit, half Siamese by the look of her, came to their cat buffet and joined the family. I began to call this one Friskers, I don't know why, except it's some sort of amalgam of frisky and whiskers. Don't you think it is sort of a unisex name? We had to trap her, too, for the spaying.
One night, S. went out to the garage and four kits were feeding from one large shallow dish. He looked more carefully and one was a skunk! S. tiptoed back into the house, and I peeked out to verify. The shape and the white stripe were unmistakable! We were advised that leaving a light on in the garage all night would discourage the skunk. We never smelled him and never saw him again.
We hired neighbor kids to feed the cats when we were away. And one time when we came back Buster had disappeared. There was a nasty rumor that the dog on a rope at the corner house had killed him and other unwary felines. There will be two or three more installments of this gripping saga before we are through. And I have found some great new poems, too. But it is an odd time of year to be blogging; everyone is so busy and both reading and writing of blogs may suffer. Good night.
One night, S. went out to the garage and four kits were feeding from one large shallow dish. He looked more carefully and one was a skunk! S. tiptoed back into the house, and I peeked out to verify. The shape and the white stripe were unmistakable! We were advised that leaving a light on in the garage all night would discourage the skunk. We never smelled him and never saw him again.
We hired neighbor kids to feed the cats when we were away. And one time when we came back Buster had disappeared. There was a nasty rumor that the dog on a rope at the corner house had killed him and other unwary felines. There will be two or three more installments of this gripping saga before we are through. And I have found some great new poems, too. But it is an odd time of year to be blogging; everyone is so busy and both reading and writing of blogs may suffer. Good night.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Miss Bianca: her story continued
After she came to live with us, we were worried because our younger son had cat-aggravated asthma. There was no question of bringing her in the house, although she must have formerly been a house cat because she tried to come in with us. The black kitties were wild and uncatchable, especially one of them. We caught the other, and our son's girlfriend took it home with her. Some time later, her brother accidently ran over it in their driveway. And that part of the saga ends there.
I began calling the other black kitty "Buster." I think I did this, because I feared we could never catch it to be neutered and would thus unleash a mini-flood of kitties in our garage. We could pet Miss B, as we came to call her and she was eay to catch for her trip to be spayed. We continued to live in this fool's paradise until S went out for the morning paper and caught Buster in the act of love, and occupying the female position.
Then began the campaign: we borrowed a trap and began to feed Buster a small dish of canned cat food in it every day, with the door open. Then S sat nearby and very still. Then, S. had a string in his hand; after a couple of tries Buster was trapped. We carried the trap to the vet, and Buster's early pregnancy was interrupted. It took several people and probably some knockout drops, but they mananged it.
I began calling the other black kitty "Buster." I think I did this, because I feared we could never catch it to be neutered and would thus unleash a mini-flood of kitties in our garage. We could pet Miss B, as we came to call her and she was eay to catch for her trip to be spayed. We continued to live in this fool's paradise until S went out for the morning paper and caught Buster in the act of love, and occupying the female position.
Then began the campaign: we borrowed a trap and began to feed Buster a small dish of canned cat food in it every day, with the door open. Then S sat nearby and very still. Then, S. had a string in his hand; after a couple of tries Buster was trapped. We carried the trap to the vet, and Buster's early pregnancy was interrupted. It took several people and probably some knockout drops, but they mananged it.
Monday, December 01, 2008
After the rain
It rained today. I visited Donnalynn's garden. I need to ask her the name of this plant.
Portrait of Miss Bianca
I came upon a small cache of photos last night while I was moving things around to try and set up a wireless printer.
The Story of Miss Bianca
One rainy day in the early 1980s, I looked out the window in the laundry door while I was taking clothes out of the dryer. What I saw was so striking that the image is still clear in my mind. (I have been thinking today that I will try to draw it.)
In the rain, only slightly sheltered by a small tree, a white cat sat upright, nursing two adolescent black cats with white markings. All of them were thin and elegant looking, reminding me of Egyptian statuary. The pose was very unusual to me, I had always seen cats nursing lying down. This would have been very uncomfortable in the rain, and these "kittens" were tall enough tp nurse standing up. They really looked too old to nurse.
I called my husband to come and see. He immediately went out with a bowl of milk and invited them into the garage. And thus she came to live with us. (to be continued.)
The Story of Miss Bianca
One rainy day in the early 1980s, I looked out the window in the laundry door while I was taking clothes out of the dryer. What I saw was so striking that the image is still clear in my mind. (I have been thinking today that I will try to draw it.)
In the rain, only slightly sheltered by a small tree, a white cat sat upright, nursing two adolescent black cats with white markings. All of them were thin and elegant looking, reminding me of Egyptian statuary. The pose was very unusual to me, I had always seen cats nursing lying down. This would have been very uncomfortable in the rain, and these "kittens" were tall enough tp nurse standing up. They really looked too old to nurse.
I called my husband to come and see. He immediately went out with a bowl of milk and invited them into the garage. And thus she came to live with us. (to be continued.)
Saturday, November 29, 2008
The pink tutu
I'm going to be doing a lot of playing with this series of photos. I know what I want, but haven't gotten it yet. I want an effect with less detail and more like an oil painting. Stay tuned.
Instead of picture play, I spent the whole evening trying to set up a wireless printer. I failed so far, but understand a lot more than I did when I started, hopefully. Wireless network printing is trickier than I expected because of network and firewall protection, but I think I neutralized that. I joined the network several times with the included software, and with the printer keypad. The printer is an HP all-in-one Officejet J4680, in case my fairy godmother computer-tech reads this and wants to give me a hint. Stay tuned.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Just the two of us, a memory thread
Soon after we were married, S was drafted. For our first Thanksgiving, he came to my parent's home at the end of his basic training. Already thin when they got him, he was down to 165 pounds for his 6 feet 5 inches. His thick dark hair was shorn and the army had taken away his horn-rims and given him round glasses frames made of pink plastic. He was wearing his uniform when he got off the train. I didn't recognize him--my mother saw him first. My pregnancy had begun to show and I was wearing one of those smocks like we wore then. I couldn't kiss him at the station; he seemed like a stranger.
My parents were remodeling an old house; it was open on one wall where the large fireplace would be. The hole was covered by a tarp--the only thing between us and the late autumn winds and rain. I don't remember what we ate, but I am sure it was turkey. . .
This year, 2008, since we had just visited all our children, we decided to have a simple Turkey Day. But I couldn't take the thought of going out to eat; it seemed too goofy, and a little sad.
So here it is--we don't remember ever having a just-the-two-of-us Thanksgiving before.
Do you think your kitchenware holds memories? Of your life and of the world of the past? I do. Here we have:
1) The classic pyrex casserole ( containing peas) with the lid you can use for a pie plate. We've have this nearly forever.
2) Heavy blue glasses I got on sale because the color reminded me of my mother's Mexican blue glass. Unlike the Mexican blue, they seem to be nearly indestructable.
3) Wine glasses we bought last year from a Bed, Bath and Beyond remainder rack when we were shopping for Christmas gifts.
4) Our wedding silverplate, Flair, which S picked out. (It was a gift from his parents.) I didn't care for it much. The pattern seemed to me aggressively modern. I've gotten used to its gentle curves by now.
5) Pottery dinner plates we got from a local potter in the late seventies. Thay are very beautiful, with subtle poured glazes you cannot see here.
6) Cute little brown thrift-store pitchers with gravy in them. Getting them out, I found another one was cracked and threw it away. Each one is sitting on a saucer of the Mikasa French something-or-other creamy white dishes, which we impulse-bought in the Mikasa outlet store when we were shopping for Christmas gifts. We had seen them at Mary Hill's and liked them. We already had plenty of dishes. We use them for everyday and for company, too. They are very pretty and go with everything. Mary Hill (she was in my haiku group) died this year, and they always remind me of her in a comfortable way.
7) Japanese dishes with blue fish on them. I got these because I like them, and because I used to shop at a Japanese hardware store with Lani and Ed after having bento box lunches together following Library Branch Heads meeting. (Now they call it the Management Meeting, and I am sure it couldn't be as much fun as when we were part of it.)
8) White baking dish (French?) from S's fancy-cooking period. He likes these and we have them in different sizes. They are classier than much of our stuff, and more recently acquired.
9) The bottom half of a ceramic butter dish made by a friend of my daughter's when she was making her living at art fairs in the 1980s. It has a cover, so you can store your butter at room temperature and merrily butter your toast, if you are still allowed to eat butter, or toast. . .
10) Ceramic platter that neither one of us can remember where it came from. The turkey breast and wings were roasted separately from the legs and back, which we roasted yesterday with vegetables to make gravy stock. Now we have enough gravy to have a Gravy Party, if we had ever heard of such a thing.
11) Crystal dish with mashed potatoes in it. I often cannot resist these gorgeous dishes when they wind up at Ross or Tuesday Mornings. So much (un-needed, closet-hogging) shining, twinkling beauty for such small prices!
12) Small swirled crystal dish (see above) with canned whole-berry cranberry sauce.
13) Pepper mill, the pretty-good replacement for the late lamented one that our son got us years ago in a (now-defunct) cutlery store, which gave up the ghost and couldn't be replaced, This is the third try.
14) In a towel (unknown recent provenance) under the tiny rolls(which didn't rise enough because I killed their yeast trying to hurry them up) is the oldest thing, a silverplated dish that is worn through to the brass in a space about the size of a fifty-cent piece. (When was the last time I saw one of those?) I have tried to let go of it, but I like the shape. It was a wedding gift.
15) The tablecloth is from the 70s when I used to make them from upholstery remnants. The table we had then was smaller. I bought the brown napkins then because they don't have to be ironed (true) and all the remnants had brown in them. This is sort of a bark cloth.
See how much history can be found in one holiday table setting??
It is my misfortune that people who like "things" and take care of them and wind up with too many of them are now called "hoarders" and are featured on TV shows where they get "help."
Naturally, I think of myself as a careful person who is interested in the conservation of material. I am sure things are not the memory link for everyone that they are for me. This has been one woman's Thanksgiving memory thread. What is yours?
My parents were remodeling an old house; it was open on one wall where the large fireplace would be. The hole was covered by a tarp--the only thing between us and the late autumn winds and rain. I don't remember what we ate, but I am sure it was turkey. . .
This year, 2008, since we had just visited all our children, we decided to have a simple Turkey Day. But I couldn't take the thought of going out to eat; it seemed too goofy, and a little sad.
So here it is--we don't remember ever having a just-the-two-of-us Thanksgiving before.
Do you think your kitchenware holds memories? Of your life and of the world of the past? I do. Here we have:
1) The classic pyrex casserole ( containing peas) with the lid you can use for a pie plate. We've have this nearly forever.
2) Heavy blue glasses I got on sale because the color reminded me of my mother's Mexican blue glass. Unlike the Mexican blue, they seem to be nearly indestructable.
3) Wine glasses we bought last year from a Bed, Bath and Beyond remainder rack when we were shopping for Christmas gifts.
4) Our wedding silverplate, Flair, which S picked out. (It was a gift from his parents.) I didn't care for it much. The pattern seemed to me aggressively modern. I've gotten used to its gentle curves by now.
5) Pottery dinner plates we got from a local potter in the late seventies. Thay are very beautiful, with subtle poured glazes you cannot see here.
6) Cute little brown thrift-store pitchers with gravy in them. Getting them out, I found another one was cracked and threw it away. Each one is sitting on a saucer of the Mikasa French something-or-other creamy white dishes, which we impulse-bought in the Mikasa outlet store when we were shopping for Christmas gifts. We had seen them at Mary Hill's and liked them. We already had plenty of dishes. We use them for everyday and for company, too. They are very pretty and go with everything. Mary Hill (she was in my haiku group) died this year, and they always remind me of her in a comfortable way.
7) Japanese dishes with blue fish on them. I got these because I like them, and because I used to shop at a Japanese hardware store with Lani and Ed after having bento box lunches together following Library Branch Heads meeting. (Now they call it the Management Meeting, and I am sure it couldn't be as much fun as when we were part of it.)
8) White baking dish (French?) from S's fancy-cooking period. He likes these and we have them in different sizes. They are classier than much of our stuff, and more recently acquired.
9) The bottom half of a ceramic butter dish made by a friend of my daughter's when she was making her living at art fairs in the 1980s. It has a cover, so you can store your butter at room temperature and merrily butter your toast, if you are still allowed to eat butter, or toast. . .
10) Ceramic platter that neither one of us can remember where it came from. The turkey breast and wings were roasted separately from the legs and back, which we roasted yesterday with vegetables to make gravy stock. Now we have enough gravy to have a Gravy Party, if we had ever heard of such a thing.
11) Crystal dish with mashed potatoes in it. I often cannot resist these gorgeous dishes when they wind up at Ross or Tuesday Mornings. So much (un-needed, closet-hogging) shining, twinkling beauty for such small prices!
12) Small swirled crystal dish (see above) with canned whole-berry cranberry sauce.
13) Pepper mill, the pretty-good replacement for the late lamented one that our son got us years ago in a (now-defunct) cutlery store, which gave up the ghost and couldn't be replaced, This is the third try.
14) In a towel (unknown recent provenance) under the tiny rolls(which didn't rise enough because I killed their yeast trying to hurry them up) is the oldest thing, a silverplated dish that is worn through to the brass in a space about the size of a fifty-cent piece. (When was the last time I saw one of those?) I have tried to let go of it, but I like the shape. It was a wedding gift.
15) The tablecloth is from the 70s when I used to make them from upholstery remnants. The table we had then was smaller. I bought the brown napkins then because they don't have to be ironed (true) and all the remnants had brown in them. This is sort of a bark cloth.
See how much history can be found in one holiday table setting??
It is my misfortune that people who like "things" and take care of them and wind up with too many of them are now called "hoarders" and are featured on TV shows where they get "help."
Naturally, I think of myself as a careful person who is interested in the conservation of material. I am sure things are not the memory link for everyone that they are for me. This has been one woman's Thanksgiving memory thread. What is yours?
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