Feeling blessed to be more…

September 2 is a new date on our calendar. Daughter #2 and SIL have given us permission to share their news.

Papa has done well keeping their secret under wraps. He does like to talk and share good news about the family.

You have probably guessed our secret. We are going to be grandparents again! Now we’ll have one for each. One beautiful boy from Daughter #1 and now a beautiful…of course, s/he will be beautiful…from Daughter #2 and SIL.

There’s a quote that hangs in our kitchen from way back when geese were popular…remember the 90′s? The girls and I saw it at a craft fair and we thought we would get it for Papa for being such a good sport, always outnumbered.

The big question. Will Papa be outnumbered again?

Then T-Bob came on the scene and at least Papa could say there were two guys and three girls in the house.

Then came grandson, and it was three for three.

Then came SIL and Zena girl, the black lab, which made it four for four.

So as the clock marches on and we await news of a boy or a girl, we’re only guessing and feeling very blessed to be more.

Choosing over frocks, I cross-stitched these blocks.

So among friends and family, after a homemade dinner of steak and lobster to celebrate, I brought out a gift to help in the wait.

A friend once told me, every baby should have something with the love of homemade.

Andy Rooney said "Elephants and grandchildren never forget."

Jimmy Lee, the Story of an Outlaw or On Makin’ a Baby Laugh

Last weekend after a month of rain, Rick took this picture of the front pond. They show the trees around the pond and their reflection in the muddy but still very welcome water. This picture made me think about the laughter like rain that poured on a muddy situation.

The front pond 2-11-12, rickignites.tumblr.com

“He’s such a beautiful baby. He looks like you and he looks like Ben,” I commented.

“He just woke up and he seems to be coming to…out of his sleep, a real short nap for him. You know it’s a real fine line between cryin’ and laughin’…he wants to laugh but ’cause he’s so groggy from nap time he falls into crying …let me keep talking …trust me on this…I’ll get him to laughing.”

And so she continued to tell us a story. “Years ago, Jimmy Lee called that he and his buddies…from Rice no less…”

Her voice rose upon declaring “Rice” as in Rice University, in absolute disbelief of what she was about to tell.

She adjusted her rimless glasses as she continued “and he had just passed the bar for law…anyways they were stuck in the sand. Richard had to go out in the middle of the night and rescue them.”

Richard added, “Did you tell them what they were doing out there in the middle of the night?”

“No, I thought I’d let you tell them that part. Anyways, Richard went to rescue them, and I had to get my babies up and put them on two pallets on the floor to make the beds for Jimmy Lee and his friends, from Rice.”

Richard explained, “I pulled their car out of the sand. Turns out they had gone into town to shoot out lights.”

“And he just passed the bar and those buddies of his from Rice,” she declared in astonishment.

“It was the stupidest thing…I was waked in the night, haven’t seen them since that night, and he expected me to go rescue him…I did though.”

“Just like my dad Itus would have…my dad may not have liked you but he always lent a hand…I will say this tho’, if my dad didn’t like you he would soon let you know but he wouldn’t deny helpin’ you,” she said.

“Anyways, I offered them breakfast the next morning and they refused, saying they didn’t want breakfast. I told them if I had gone through the trouble of making beds for them and fixin’ breakfast they were going to eat with us. Then, they sat their butts in the chairs and ate pancakes, eggs and sausage and drank coffee. Then, I asked Jimmy Lee if he had talked with his wife. He said no. I told him to go to the phone right now and tell her where he was, who he was with and what he had done. He did it, with Richard and me in the kitchen and his buddies at the table…he stood right there on the phone telling her. We haven’t seen or heard from him since then. I do know that years later he was dis-barred.”

“And divorced…yeah, I should have taken them to the sheriff and turned them in,” Richard added disgusted.

We laughed so hard tears rolled out of our eyes and down our cheeks. “Imagine, him from Rice and all.” The baby laughed too, happy to sit on his granny’s lap and watching us after a good nap.

Valentine Greetings

I have some Valentines for my family and awards to share with my blogging friends today.

Everyone in my family lives further apart now so I thank wp for this blog to send virtual roses. I had fun yesterday photographing bouquets at the flower market.

For my beautiful mother an hour away who has always been stunning in red…red roses.

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For my sister on the East coast with the reddish brown hair…peach colored roses.

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For CA daughter from TX with the blond, blond hair…yellow roses from TX.

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For Dallas daughter…still a bride…white roses.

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Every day is Valentines Day when we look at this picture of Papa who makes everything fun…with grandson!

***

And you never know when a day can come in the form of a virtual hug or virtual nod in our blogging community. bridgesburning, Munchow and the Island Traveler have nominated me since the New Year for The Genuine Blogger Award, the Liebster, The Hug Award and the Versatile Blogger Award. Oh my! I am honored. I assured them I would reciprocate by Valentine’s.

I thank Chris because she posts so frequently. She is so dedicated. I believe she was a member of the Post a Day last year. I enjoy reading her musings and know she used to live closer to me at a point in her life. An explanation of the Liebster and the Genuine Blogger Award can be found here.

I thank the Island Traveler because although he is younger than I am, he reminds me of my dad (wink) at age 40. I love reading about his journey here in the states at his age. I remember going back to visit Mexico for Christmas and my dad’s 40th birthday over New Years. I remember how excited he was to return for a visit. Just recently, we learned IT will be going home to the Philippines for a visit. I can imagine his excitement and I can relate. A virtual hug back and I wish him a wonderful journey. An explanation of this award and the rules that go with it can be found here.

I thank munchow as he is mainly a photographer. How patient he is with my smart phone photographs that yes,…I am guilty…make their way into my posts. I thank him for understanding the message in my posts. The rules to the Versatile Blogger award can be found here.

I am required to list other blogs that I believe are wonderful, that deserve these awards and also to share some items about myself, that you don’t already know. I encourage you to visit these sites. You will be enriched for visiting. So…first the blogs, listed in no certain order, and of course, there are many more that I love, but I know some of them have been nominated recently, and I wish I could list more. I believe the following blogs encompass the ideals of these awards. I know some of you have already received one, and I ask you to accept one that isn’t duplicated. And if you don’t partake in awards, I do understand, I really do.

Dianna at These Days of Mine has such a special touch in staying grounded, creating community, focusing on the beauty around us, and acknowledging those who came before us. Her photographs are beautiful, Natural, whimsical, spontaneous, curious and playful. She has nominated me several times for these fun awards that come our way. And, I take a special pleasure in being able to give her an award that doesn’t originate from her.

Kathy at pocketperspectives, thank you for your window transparencies. You know how they warm me.

Linda at The Task at Hand. To read Linda’s posts is to know what a disciplined and dedicated writer she is. She follows the cardinal rule of writing, “Write what you know about.” She is the genuine article. I am honored by her replies to my comments and that she comes to visit this site. If blogging is recognized as a genre of literature, she certainly contributes to this genre for her craftsmanship and knowledge of literature, the arts and history.

Rosie at dearrosie fascinates me with her travel experiences and ability to relate with all kinds of acquaintances through her job at a museum. How often I shake my head in agreement as she shares with us her observations or I learn something new from her. Museums are among my favorite places to be and visit and I love being a virtual fly on the wall seeing what she observes.

Amy at souldipper shares her own authentic, life truths and I am honored she visits and comments. When Amy visits I feel our world becomes more familiar as she shares what she knows to be true, genuine and authentic. As she put it so aptly in a former post “My Roots Are Showing”, she knows herself well.

Carla at randombraincells.wordpress.com/ hails from Alabama. She is a very talented writer and keeps perspective by making everything she writes real and finding the humor in it. It’s always a delight to exchange a comment with her.

I am going to forego writing 7 things about myself because as I wrote this, I think you can find seven things you may not have already known about me as I give Valentines to my family and awards to my blogging friends.

An Unforgettable View at the Museum of Modern Art

This is a story about something I could have missed…

In spring of 1970 I had the opportunity to take a seminar entitled “In Search of the Histrionic” at Columbia University. Each night trips to Lincoln Center, a theater on Broadway and an off-Broadway theater were scheduled to view the latest and greatest shows. During the day we ventured out on our own. It wasn’t on our itinerary but I found myself wanting to visit the Guggenheim, the NY Museum of Modern Art. I remember the extraordinary building designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, and another thing I do remember will stay with me forever.

The Guggenheim, the Musem of Modern Art, NYC via wiki commons

I wasn’t even aware what was awaiting me. Before I saw it, I knew of the painting but I didn’t know it was here. I walked into a room and to the left of me, I had to turn to view it. It was a painting made familiar from art books I had leaved through and textbooks I had studied, but here it was so large and so immense, it took my breath away. Not only did this “find” catch me unaware, I was struck by the enormity of it with its measurements of over 10 feet high by over twenty feet long. Of course, only the MOMA at the Guggenheim could have housed such a piece, Guernica by Picasso.

Surprisingly the room was rather empty. I sat on the bench placed there for spectators to view it and study it. I read it from left to right physically moving my head to take it all in. The grieving mother holding her child, the bull symbolizing Spain’s strength. The light bulb suspended in the center like an eye viewing the horror yet illuminating Franco’s atrocity for the world to see. The ghost like spirit reminiscent of a member of a tragic Greek chorus and to the right another figure repeating the form of the grieving mother on the left, however this form was caught in the flames of a burning building.

Every time I view this painting, I see something else in the white, grays, charcoal shades and black shades on the canvass. Great literature is to be reread. Great paintings are to be viewed over and over again. Click again and “read” this astonishing work.

Today this masterpiece of the Cubist movement is in el Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía, Madrid. It was not in Spain for many years because Picasso would not allow his work to hang in a gallery under Franco’s rule, not to mention Franco would not have tolerated a blatant protest of his dictatorship and the atrocity for which he was responsible, the bombing of the small town of Guernica. Finally, the painting went home to Spain in 1981, six years after Franco’s death, during a time that promised and still promises the restoration of democratic rule.

I was in NYC. For whatever reason I ventured out to the Guggenheim. Little did I know…

Have you ever seen something great that caught you by surprise?

A Picasso in the Attic

This is a Valentine for my beautiful mother who loves beautiful things and takes care of them.

My last post was about a case of mistaken identity. Imagine my surprise at the following case of un-mistaken identity.

My mother found a doll in a trunk owned by her mother. She knew my mother-in-law and her sisters had a great interest in dolls that she had passed on to me and her granddaughters. She asked me to look at the doll and asked me what I thought. I’m not an expert, but I knew she was very special. Her limbs were loosely fixed to her body, but her face, torso, arms, legs and delicate fingers were intact. She was clean and her bisque face had no marks.

“Let me take you and her to the Doll Hospital,” I suggested. “I know just the place to take her near the house.”

Both of us went together. The owner of our doll hospital has been in business for decades. If anyone could tell us about mom’s doll, I knew it would be her. The owner greeted us with her “doctor’s coat”, very carefully took the doll from my mother, placed her on a “hospital bed” and quietly but confidently stated, “This is a Picasso in the attic.”

“What do you mean?”, we inquired.

“Yes, she’s a J.D. Kestner…made around 1910 in Germany.”

We left the “baby” with the doll house doctor who restrung her limbs and laundered her original dress, diaper and stockings. She gave her new shoes as Mom’s had lost hers long ago.

And so we left knowing the identity of Mom’s doll. How satisfying to have unraveled this mystery and to have had this treasure restored.

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"new shoes" georgettesullins.wordpress.com

Life comes at us so fast, we put things away in the attic or trunk or on the back burner until there’s time to search for answers. Thankfully we found out what my mother’s mother must have known but we had to seek out.
What precious mysteries do you wonder about?

A Case of Mistaken Identity

My family loves it when I make a mistake. (If only they knew how often I keep quiet and don’t point out the error of their ways!) But the following story makes them laugh and shake their heads. I’m bad. Oh so bad.

Our family took a trip to Corpus Christi for the weekend and we stayed at the Embassy Suites where my husband had accumulated points. It accommodates a family nicely with a living room with hide-a-bed, perfect for two young girls and a master suite. There’s also a kitchenette to keep snacks and beverages. I also, liked that they provided happy hour drinks around 5:00 and a breakfast buffet.

We got up Sunday morning for the breakfast buffet. Each of us went to the buffet table beckoning us with pastries, juices, cereal, waffles, eggs, bacon, hash browns…you name it, our personal favorites. All we had to do was decide and serve ourselves. I went through the line and found a seat in the dining area…oblivious…another fault I have…sat down and reached for my husband’s spoon as I had forgotten the silverware part and I could see he was about to dig into eggs and bacon, things requiring a fork. I knew he didn’t need the spoon for the oatmeal I love to eat at breakfast.

“Honey, may I take your spoon?” I asked him.

“Well, of course, if you really need it,” came the response.

Then my hand flew to my mouth. I was flustered, red-faced and apologetic.
“er…I’m sorry…I thought…”

My husband and daughters sat laughing at “their” table delighting in my goof. The bald-headed, large gentleman with mustache, beard and glasses whose spoon I had helped myself to was not my bald-headed, large gentleman with mustache, beard and bespectacled Rick!

Oooops! OMG!

Have you ever laughed at yourself and just shaken your head?

Cinderella Cake

It was cold and there was snow all around. It was too cold to go out and play. It was a Sunday, February 2, and I had a whole afternoon to figure out what to do. Mom and Dad had announced it was their anniversary. “Could I bake a cake for their anniversary?” I wondered. We bake cakes for birthdays, what about anniversaries? I looked in my mother’s first cookbook for an idea.

And there I found it. We had all the ingredients. That did it. I was going to bake a cake. Since their anniversary was on Ground Hog’s Day, I thought it would be a beautiful thing to make…you know, to cancel out the Ground Hog part.
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We even had the ingredients to make a lovely pink frosting.

Dad marked their 11th anniversary and my first cake with this picture on February 2, 1958.

I think the sparkly ring came from the dime store.

Toys that Enchant

I love this toy.

It’s one I picked up in Mexico.

I enjoy sharing it.

Many have held it,

gently squeezed its fragile sticks

and delighted

in its somersaults

and gyrations.

Remember Peter, Paul and Mary’s “The Marvelous Toy”?

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Things surface

I lost my keys for three weeks. Bad news. I lost my keys. Good news. For three weeks. Therein lies the good news. I wouldn’t be writing about it unless I could put a time limit on my loss. And, I wouldn’t be writing about it unless there was a happy ending. Right?

One day before the holidays I had them. I had to have them to get into the house. They couldn’t have just walked away because I drove myself home and had to use a key to get into the house. Then one Saturday before the holidays, they were gone.

I looked here. “Things surface,” I told myself.

No, they weren't under the hat.

I looked in every one of these purses numerous times. “Things surface,” I told myself again.

No, they weren't in any one of these.

I looked in all the usual places. The kitchen table, my desk, the floor of the car, under the seats and between the seats. I turned pockets of jackets, jeans and slacks inside out. No keys.

No worries. It was the holidays. Classes were over and I had an extra for the house and car.

Family came in for the holidays. I mobilized them. “Keep your eyes open for my keys.”
“Mom, remember what you always say? Things surface.”

Holidays were over. The beginning of a new semester was approaching. “Where are those keys?” I kind of went into a free fall. They had not surfaced like they were supposed to.

Then, we went to the farm. “Here, put this in the glove compartment,” my husband requested. I opened up the glove compartment to his truck to put “this” whatever it was in the glove compartment for him.

And there they were! Just in time for classes. Three weeks later. I had never been without them for so long…three weeks. Life went on. Things got done. And once again, my little mantra served us. “Don’t worry. Things surface sooner or later.”

“Whew!”

In memoriam: Significant Teaching Meets Significant Learning

This is another re-post. Last spring as I posted weekly, I first posted this. After I wrote it I spent a Sunday afternoon looking for this professor and making inquiries. We reconnected over the phone and I visited with him and his wife remembering old times. We decided to meet asap and so we did. My mother and I, his wife and I met him at an Italian restaurant where he sang for diversion. Sadly, over Christmas break I received the news he had passed away. I am posting this in memory of Dr. Carlos H. Monsanto, 1935-2011.

The course and the professor I describe are few. There have been movies that chronicled the eccentricities, vision and humanity of great teachers: The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, Mr. Holland’s Opus, Stand and Deliver, Akeela and the Bee. Like Jaime Escalante in Stand and Deliver, the following is true and unforgettable. This post is about how one professor brought a whole class to Oaxaca. Little did we know when we signed up for the class on a TX campus, he had a vision of literally taking all of us on an extraordinary week long field trip.

In graduate school I had an extraordinary professor! His sensitivity, respect for every student, enthusiasm, energy, talent and intellect are memorable. He taught a culture class in the spring and announced that all of us would be accompanying him on a trip to Oaxaca, Mexico over spring break. Our first question in our mind was “How much is this going to cost?” In effect it cost us nothing out of pocket. First, we produced a recently published play that had become very popular in Latin American contemporary literature. The play was Los invasores by the Chilean playwright Egon Wolff. We produced and presented it in Spanish and almost filled the campus auditorium with Spanish speakers eager to view this recent work. It was published in 1963 having won an award in Chile for the best theatrical play, and we presented it in 1974. Clearly, he was on to something and he brought us into his vision. Play receipts were not enough to cover the plane tickets, so then we sold hundreds of pieces of Central American crafts…lots of necklaces and embroidered tops. Finally, we staged a dance and met our financial goal.

I guess you can say in a way he kidnapped us. We signed up for the class in the fall, showed up the first day of classes second term where he announced we would all be taking a trip with him over spring break. If anyone dropped the class or protested, I never knew about that. But…

Around 20 of us went to Oaxaca where we visited the home and museum of Mexican Muralist, Rufino Tamayo. We visited the pre-colombian ruins of Monte Alban and Mitla. We mingled among the people. We were assigned a project based on our trip to be presented by the end of the course back home. I chose to photograph the wrought iron that covers the window openings, the “ojos de buey” – ventilation holes, the gates that opened to the front doors of homes, patios and courtyards. I even purchased a bus ticket to visit a small village where Oaxacan natives told me the church there housed the oldest “reja” (piece of wrought iron gate) in Oaxaca. I rode the bus with natives, some chickens, parcels and baskets. A young girl from the area who befriended me accompanied me. My final presentation of the term was unique and something I would never have thought to carry out from my home in Texas.

The slides I took and the experiences I had there have remained with me. In 2010 as I started “blogging”, the subject of this experience resulted in my first post “Enchanted Iron”.

The National Standards for Foreign Language Education were first published in 1996. They are outlined in the 5 C’s. They list the characteristics of quality foreign language education. Clearly before there ever were the 5 C’s of The National Standards of Foreign Language, this professor in the early 70′s met all of them in his course: Communication: oral and written, Culture: precolombian, colonial and contemporary, Connections: business, literature, music, art, architecture, Comparisons: architecture and Communities: we became lifelong learners.

I am so glad this wordpress experience came along as it did. It prompted me to write this story about him, how he influenced me, i.e. “Enchanted Iron” and other ways, and then share it with him and his wife. He loved it and that makes me glad. More facts about him. He was legally blind yet never met any obstacle. He loved his family. On Saturday, December 17 I received an e-mail from him with the subject line “Invasión de nietos y bisnietos” (Invasion of grandchildren and great grandchildren…for the holidays). The next thing I knew I was receiving an e-mail from his beloved wife informing me he had died on Monday, December 19. His memorial will be this Saturday. How very glad I am to have shared this piece with him last spring and that we met one more time in 2011. Mrs. C. H. Monsanto has given me her blessing and permission to repost.

Don Francisco

You may remember in a former post that one of our scarecrows is named Don Francisco. This is the story of one particular Mexican craftsman for whom I named our memorable fall figure.

We don’t have pictures of him but the tales continue about Don Francisco. He was the gardener when my parents lived in Mexico City. Gardener? That’s my mother’s memory of him…and oh yes, he built the book shelves in the back bedroom, a furniture casing for my parents’ hi fi, the doll bed, my doll house, some unforgettable blocks, “el burro” and the “mueble”, Big Bertha. During earthquakes because Mexico does suffer more than the occasional tremor he taught my mother to stand in the doorway, where he explained it was most “seguro”, safe. So as my dad built the General Electric factory in Mexico City on the road to Querétaro, Don Francisco engineered and fashioned many comforts in our home.

The book shelves in my mother’s back bedroom still house Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys and Golden Books galore. Remember good Golden books like Ukelele, the story of a Hawaiian Girl and the sailor who befriended her? Anyway, those treasured books can be immediately found there in the shelves Don Francisco crafted. No nails. Each slat and board expertly doved-tailed together.

In the furniture department, my three or four year old self was definitely not overlooked. He made me a doll bed. It was large enough to tuck several dolls to bed and it traveled from Mexico, to PA to New Jersey, to TX to AL to FL back to TX again during the years of my dad’s company transfers. I tucked my dolls to sleep in it as did my daughters. The sloping curved side boards, side rails, head board and slats, were expertly dove-tailed together. No nails.

For me his masterpiece was a doll house complete with staircase. The staircase had a tiny wrought iron bannister. I remember the walls were green and the metal bannister was painted yellow. When it was time to leave Mexico, we gave it away. It couldn’t make the move to the States my parents explained. I’m sure I cried and pitched a fit at the thought of leaving it behind. And, I remember thinking “How lucky its new owner would be…and, how unfair we couldn’t take it” I remember that doll house furnished with living room and bedroom furniture and kitchen fixtures all fashioned of wood and metal pieces better than the house we lived in back then. I guess I “lived” in that doll house.

Working with GE my dad got the workings of a hi fi. Don Francisco fashioned a furniture casing to house the LP’s and turn table/playing mechanism. Although the doll house didn’t make the move to the States, the hi-fi did. I remember dancing to the LP’s my parents brought home to our living room in Essex County, NJ after a night in NYC to attend broadway shows: Mr. Wonderful, Happy Hunting, Gigi, My Fair Lady, South Pacific. We lived there during the heyday of the American broadway musical and the door that opened to the turntable, the door that don Francisco hinged, stayed open on the weekends.

For my brother and me Don Francisco fashioned rectangular blocks…over a hundred of them. We counted them, stacked them and built towers with them. My brother and I used to stand on a chair to place the last remaining block on the tower taller than us. He and I proceeded to reverse the process by dropping one block at a time into its center. When the sides could hold no more, we squealed and shouted “timber” upon watching its inevitable collapse.

“El burro” was another handcrafted piece. It was not a donkey. It was an ironing board my mother insisted on having. The usual Mexican tradition was to pad a table with towels and an old sheet and iron on a table. My American mother described to Don Francisco what she wanted and he built it. Ingenious. She had it and then when my husband and I had our own home, I begged to take it when I needed one.

The “mueble” a large piece of furniture had a flat surface for changing babies. “El mueble” withstood many moves with all the pieces expertly dovetailed together. Now, “el mueble” did have nails. There were two side pieces nailed to the frame. Over the years, my dad carved my siblings’ heights on the side of them on each of our birthdays. When daughter #1 was born and #2 came along, I begged to have it, too. My husband upgraded it laying an ivory colored piece of plastic for the changing area and repainting it from green to yellow. I kept sheets and blankets in the two large drawers below the changing area. Two smaller drawers kept the baby clothes and a small door opened to where the toys and stuffed animals were housed. Then we changed “el mueble’s” name to Big Bertha. She was my organizational solution during the baby years.

Don Francisco’s furniture pieces linked my Mexican past to my American future. I don’t remember what Don Francisco looked like, but have loved the memory of my parents speaking of him with respect for his craftsmanship. The book shelves are in my mother’s back bedroom now. The hi-fi has long ago been discarded and replaced. The blocks are in the bottom drawer of a kitchen sideboard at my mother’s for easy access for the grandchildren and now great-grandchildren. The doll bed, “El burro” and “Big Bertha” are gone. They were taken at one of many garage sales as we downsize.

This is the story of a gardener and craftsman who left his mark on our family. I am categorizing this post under Art and Architecture for his craftsmanship. I’m sorry I don’t have pictures, but I do have memories. Vicente Huidobro from Chile writes about “la voz de las cosas”, the voice of things. Don Francisco’s “things” spoke to and still remain with me.

A Tennessee Christmas and $5

It was Christmas vacation 1993. Daughter #2 was seven and still had not experienced snow at Christmastime. With cousins back East and my having lived in PA and NJ by her age, I knew I wanted her to experience the magic of snow at Christmas. So when her friend Lizzy who had just moved to the Nashville area invited her to visit for a few days over Christmas break before Christmas day, my husband and I bought her a plane ticket. In addition to the possibility of experiencing snow, I also, knew I wanted to reunite her with her friend. In fact, when another friend found out our daughter was going, she contacted Lizzy’s mother to see if it would be all right to join in. It was. So now that our daughter had a travel mate–whew–that was no longer an issue.

When the two arrived at the Nashville airport, there was snow all around. In fact, there was a blizzard and it took several hours to get to Lizzy’s house from the airport. I felt guilty that Lizzy’s mom had to go out in that weather…but she was such a good sport and a wonderful hostess to venture out to pick them up. But after the plane trip, and a memorable trip home to Lizzy’s house, later in the afternoon, the girls went out into the snow. We talked on the phone that night.

“Did you build a snowman? Did you make snow angels? Did you make snowballs?” we asked.

Yes, yes and yes she answered.

During their stay, they enjoyed all that snow, enjoyed the warmth of being inside, did some Christmas shopping and visited some other places too. Did you know our President James K. Polk was from Tennessee? I knew Andrew Jackson was, but this was news to me. Anyway, a nearby trip to his birthplace was included. (Correction: James K. Polk was born in NC but made his home in Tennessee. After serving as governor of TN he became our 11th president.)

When our daughter and her friend returned they reported having a wonderful time. We had sent our daughter with $25 spending money. We asked her if she had spent it all. “No, I have $20 left,” she reported matter-of-factly, “and I did all my Christmas shopping.”

My husband and I couldn’t believe it.

On Christmas morning we opened her finds from Tennessee–a pen for daddy, a book mark for me, a puzzle for sister and a lapel pin for Grandma. All these treasures were from James K. Polk’s home in TN!

Sometimes…a lot of times…I wonder about our government, but I must say our government parks are at work to allow all this to add up to only $5?

That same year Amy Grant came out with the following song. When I listen to this song, I have to think about that Christmastime trip our daughter took.

My father used to say, “We send you on trips so that you learn to be away from home and to come back home.” I heeded my dad’s advice to seek out the same opportunities for our girls, and must say I am oh so grateful for the homecomings.

SKYPE-in’ Around the Christmas Tree

Before Christmas morning “A Hard Candy Christmas” played in my mind.

“♪ Maybe I’ll dye my hair.”
Daughter #1 had already done that.

“♪ Maybe I’ll move somewhere.”
She did that too. She moved to CA.”

“♪ Maybe I’ll get a car”
She got Ruby, who has given her 100,000 miles of service until…her transmission went out.

“♪ Maybe I’ll drive so far
They’ll all lose track”
No chance. So Daddy and I helped out. Ruby has a new transmission. Alas, no plane tickets to come home for Christmas.

“♪ Me, I’ll bounce right back”
Merry Christmas, dear.

“♪ Maybe I’ll sleep real late”
“Grandma, it’s me. Turn on your SKYPE now. We’re ready.”

So we got up early, 7:00 AM CST (5:00 PST) with the time change favoring our second grade grandson, even earlier in the morning. |-)

“Put the computer on the piano bench so we can see the tree.”

And then this tune started playing in my mind.
“♪ Skypin’ around the Christmas tree, let the Christmas spirit ring ♫ “

“Oh, turn on the lights. Turn on the lights.” 8)

“Let’s see what’s in your stocking.”

“Ooo, what did you get? What did you get?”

“Let me see!”

“Zena, where’s Zena?”
“Woof!” (laughter)
“She’s right here by the sofa.”
“Aw, Zena knows it’s Christmas, too!” 8)

“Where’s Papa?”
“He’s getting the camera and a cup of coffee.” |-()
“Why o why does it take him so long?”

“Where’s Grandma?”
“She’s starting the waffles.”
“Mommy and I are having waffles, too.” 8)

“♪ Later we’ll have some pumpkin pie
and we’ll do some caroling ♫”

“Who’s going to wear the Santa cap this year?” :^)

“Oh let me, let me!”

“O your presents look like they were wrapped at the North Pole!”

“Look, what I always wanted!”

“Love you, honey.”
“Love you, too. Blow kisses.” :-*

“♪ Everyone rejoiced merrily
in the new old fashioned way ♫”

The sounds were similar to other Christmases past.♥

Yes, Bing Crosby sang “I’ll be home for Christmas” and Perry Como sang “There’s No Place Like Home for the Holidays” in the background.♥

Thank goodness for Pandora!!!

The Sweetness in Hard Candy

This blog received another recognition: The Reader Appreciation Award. This was bestowed upon my blog by my friend, Diana at These Days of Mine. I thank her for all the wonderful reads in the morning, the carefully chosen photographs, and in a case of mutual admiration, I thank her for coming over to visit this site and leaving her thoughtful comments.

This award recognizes your blog’s top readers by the number of comments posted. I find it so interesting that a previous blogging award came just in time to pass it to my husband on his birthday in October, and now this one comes at a very perfect time to thank my readers for reading and commenting during this holiday season.

In several ways this season marks a hard candy Christmas for us at the heels of a hard year. Perhaps some of you can relate. No, this is not the hard candy award, it’s the Reader Appreciation Award, and I thank you for the sweetness I have found in your reads/comments and all the while tasting hard candy. Yum…it is sweet.

Here are the rules for this award:

Award your top 6 bloggers who have commented the most.
Be thankful.
You cannot award someone who has already been awarded. And you cannot give the award back to me.
Don’t forget to tell the bloggers you’ve awarded.
If you don’t want to pass on this award, that’s okay too.

I will describe what their comments mean to me and perhaps you will be able to guess who they are. When you give up or want to confirm, read the numbered key below for the answers. When I checked my comment stats, I discovered these wonderful readers are my top blogging commenters:

1. This reader and I crossed paths over the summer at her site, my site and I noticed her over at TGG’s site tossing out clever captions like popcorn. She is a talented writer and I have suggested she seek out a particular publication to publish. She also, wins my heart as she shared with me she worked with children on the spectrum of autism, a recent diagnosis of my grandson. She gives me hope and lots of laughter.
2. This reader is an artist, writer, friend in faith, mother, grandmother and Naturalist. I never know what her posts will reveal but they touch on these themes, all favorites of mine.
3. This reader shares her faith journey through her online journal. It is thoughtful, reflective and beautifully written. I enjoy each of her stories that usually focus on family, among my favorite topics.
4. This reader’s posts meander through a labyrinth of brain synapses. Yet I follow the train of thought in her posts, and I follow her blog literally. She always comes clean in her comments written from her well of family experience, what she recognizes to be true, and quirkiness. I was so guilty one time when I posted and alas, no comment from her…the one person who I knew would understand the meandering thoughts style in which it was written…no comment, so yes, I sent her an e-mail to please read and let me know what you think. ooo…guilty, so guilty was I. But she came back to read, and yes, being the writer she is, she understood how important it was to me and graciously commented.
5. This reader is sharp and witty. She also, has a sarcastic take on things that leave me unashamedly laughing for the truth she observes and shares.
6. I am honored this reader comes to read my posts. Family is his life and his beautiful photographs capturing his adventures with his wife and son reveal the secrets of what he knows to be true, one day at a time, one weekend at a time, one memorable family adventure at a time.

How did you do? Did you guess them? Here is the key. (1) Darla at She’s a Maneiac (2) Patti at A New Day Dawns (3) Mama’s Empty Nest (4) Lenore Diane’s Thoughts Exactly (5) Lisa at big sheep communications (6) Island Traveler at This Man’s Journey

There is another blogger who commented often enough in my early months of doing this, that it kept me going. I will always remember her early friendship and encouragement. Thank you, MJ at Emjay and Them.

I know several of you do not participate in these awards, but still I want to thank you for being there after I strike the “publish” key. I love every comment I receive and want to thank every reader for their thoughtful, humorous, supportive and gracious comments. In some ways this has been not only a hard candy Christmas, but a hard candy year, and I want you to know how much your readership helps me find its sweetness. With that said, please take a peppermint candy from my virtual candy cane jar. There’s enough here for everybody.
You know who you are if you are reading and I thank you. I appreciate every comment that is posted here and I’m glad there’s an award to recognize those who “support” this little writing habit we have.

Pass it along – A Christmas Meme

Two friends, MJ over at emjayandthem and Dianna at These Days of Mine, have posted a Christmas meme. A meme, in the blogging world, is a topic that spreads from one blogger to another. I love answering questions, so couldn’t resist creating one:

1. What is a Christmas song I can listen to even in June?: haha I remember vacationing with my brother’s family driving from Belgium to Bavaria in Southern Germany one summer. His girls and ours ranged in age from 10 mos. to 9 yrs. old. The only CD in the van (apparently) was the Chipmunks singing Christmas carols. When I think of that trip in the summer, I think of the chipmunks being played over and over. I never got tired of them, just laugh at the memory.

2. Hot chocolate, eggnog or mulled wine? I love hot chocolate at Christmas (and my Dad’s mulled wine at New Year’s).

3. When do you put your Christmas decorations up? It’s right after Thanksgiving. That’s when the girls are here to help.

4. What are you having for Christmas dinner? After turkey at Thanksgiving, my family enjoys ham at Christmas with fruit ambrosia, a special green bean casserole, and green salad with everything on it. Usually there’s some kind of potato or rice, and always, there is pie and lots of Christmas cookies.

Christmas cookies from the fun gun...'er cookie press

5. What’s your favorite Christmas tradition? Hanging up the stockings and adding to the family ones -T-Bob’s, our grandson’s and most recently our SIL.

We're growing!

T-Bob, too.

6. Have you ever gone caroling? Yes, we have. One Christmas when the girls were younger, Rick brought the trailer from the farm with bales of hay on it. The girls called a friend or two to join us and we went to their friend’s houses in the neighborhood and picked up some extra carolers on the way. When we finished we came to our house for hot chocolate and decorated some ice cream sugar cones with green icing and m&m’s. When they were finished they had some sticky Christmas trees…wouldn’t be Christmas trees unless they were sticky.

7. When did you discover the truth about Santa? (I too, love MJ’s answer to this question and will re-post it: “I don’t know what you’re talking about“.)

8. How do you decorate your Christmas tree? Our first decorations were given to us by my MIL. Since she and my FIL were only putting up a small tree, she passed on ornaments that didn’t fit on their small tree–metal bells that we hang low for T-Bob to bat around, pink glass ones, wooden ones we picked up in Germany – angels, toys, the girls’ and now our grandson’s handmade ones. Our grandson’s favorite ones have wheels – bicycles and trains. Our tree topper is an angel.

A bell for T-Bob

Wheels for grandson

9. What’s the best thing about Christmas? I have to agree with Dianna, “I think the best thing is the good that Christmas brings out in people.”

10. What do you want for Christmas? Although our daughter and grandson are 1,000+ miles away from home, I hope they feel the peace and joy of hanging the last ornament on the Advent calendar on Christmas Eve, the Star (another Christmas tradition the girls have always done), and our being together Christmas morning (this year, via phone and SKYPE). This will be our very first Christmas when we’re not altogether.

Perhaps you’d like to play along with your own Merry Christmas meme. Or, if you’d like to respond to any of the above questions, feel free to do so in the comments.

Launching the New Year

As I hoped, it worked out! This is my 100th post. In memory of my dad.

And so as the huge Wedgewood Crystal Ball drops on New Year’s Eve, millions count down 10-9-8-…1, Happy New Year!; my family also, counts down to the New Year. It’s a tradition. I’m sure my brothers and sister still cannot celebrate a New Year’s Eve without thinking of its special significance. Our dad’s birthday. He would be 93, and if the truth be told although he didn’t celebrate 93 birthdays, his children continue to observe and remember his very special day.

We observed his birthday taking our places standing on top of a chair within a minute of the countdown. As we got to the final ten seconds we would shout out the numbers 10 through 1 and “jump into the New Year” shouting “Happy Birthday, Dad!” It was either a Dutch or our family tradition, I’m not sure.

All those years of counting down became prophetic. Dad’s job working for a company under contract with NASA saw us countdown Mercury, Gemini, Apollo and Shuttle flights. In Florida, we walked outside with our classmates to watch the latest launch counting down. In the television coverage we heard the countdown and then a voice pronounce, “Ignition, liftoff.”

As we come to another New Year, the coming of 2012, we will “launch” another one perched on chairs seconds before the crystal ball drops in Times Square. From our chair tops having imbibed some of dad’s mulled wine we will “jump into the New Year.” Ignition. Lift off. No, we won’t be soaring into the sky, but we will plant our feet squarely on the ground and think of him.

***

Dad’s Mulled Wine
1 bottle Merlot
1/2 cup of brandy (if you have some on hand)
2/3 cups sugar
2 or 3 cinnamon sticks
1 orange
a bottle of cloves

Dad spent New Year’s afternoon preparing his orange. He stuck cloves outlining the last two digits of the old year on one side of the orange and the last two digits of the new year on the other side. For example, -11 one one side, -12 on the other side. Early in the evening he poured the red wine + brandy into a pan and dissolved the sugar over a lo heat. Once the sugar was dissolved in the wine, he placed the orange with cloves along with the cinnamon sticks in with the warming mixture.

Thank you for all the reads, all the comments, all the likes...most of all thank you for the friendship!

A toast to continuing friendship...smiles, lots of laughs, nodding in agreement or disagreement, tears, and connecting. Happy New Year!

Line Buddies

I love meeting people, engage in conversation with them. I love watching people do the same. I have heard Beth Moore confess to this similar delight. She told us how at a restaurant her husband caught her watching/staring and asked her, “Shall I lean this way so you can see better?” Oh dear, guilty. But, I hope I’m not rude about it, as I know Beth would never be rude. I’ll strike up a conversation, exchange a good word, make a connection.

In December of 2002, we spent Christmas in CA with daughter #1. While we were there I expressed an interest in trying to go see the Jay Leno Show. So our grandson’s father and I got up early on the eve of New Year’s Eve, December 30 to be exact, and he drove us to the appointed spot to wait and pick up tickets. The line was long, but I felt it was worth the wait. By my guesstimation the people in front of us could not fill a studio audience, so I felt we were safe in securing tickets in due time. We did well arriving before the box office opened. Then we had to wait. There were two guys in front of us and a family behind us. Soon we began swapping stories, questions and comments. It made the time pass quickly and soon we had our tickets.

When we returned to our daughter’s apartment, my daughter asked “How did it go?”

“Great, we got tickets for everyone for tonight’s show!”

“Yeah, and your mom made line buddies.”

Who? Me? Yes, I had visited with the folks in front of us, behind us and even further beyond them.

And, at Universal City I asked these fellows if I could take this picture with them.

Have you ever made line buddies?

Paseo Buddies

As a child in Mexico City, I remember walking with my father along the city streets: Paseo de la Reforma, Avenida Juárez, Avenida Chapultepec, Horacio or the streets of San Angel. Perhaps we were just taking a walk near my grandmother’s apartment, perhaps we were sightseeing, perhaps we were shopping or seeking out a good restaurant. And then it happened.

“Oiga don Scipio, ¿cómo le va?”
“Bien, bien, don Antonio.”
“Y Ud. ¿cómo le ha ido?”

Yes, it happened as suddenly as that. All of a sudden I would view a scene played out several times, ones that I remember vividly. They were scenes of back slapping, broad smiles, laughter, eyes lit up and an exchange of greetings in Spanish…a good ole Mexican “abrazo” between two men. It happened more than once when I was with him. Really it was inevitable that he would run into people he knew, since he was born and raised there, and had worked there as recently as ten years previous to these chance encounters I saw first hand.

What I remember was the exuberant reunion of two men. I would wonder who saw who first? How did they recognize each other after so many years? Why the “hugging”? What I would give today for a video of those spontaneous meetings. So I play them out in my mind.

Although I don’t have a video of one of these encounters, I do have this picture of my dad and grandfather walking along a street of Houston, TX. I like it because it shows the energy of their step. My grandfather is window shopping and something along the street has caught my dad’s eye. Such was their demeanor, elegantly dressed by today’s standards as they walked the streets of Houston or their home in Mexico, D.F. My mother explained they were probably in Houston visiting family who had moved there. Judging by the shopping bag my dad is holding they were probably shopping for something they couldn’t easily get in Mexico.

There’s a ticket office behind them. Had they just bought tickets to an event?

Street photography in Houston

Other posts about my dad:
The Story of a Benefactor
50 Stars Sailing in the Wind
Guess What?
The Clock
The End of an Era – What’s Next?

Line buddies 2

It’s after Christmas, yet the gifts that have been bestowed on me recently, take my breath away. For many European children, the day of the three kings comes on January 6. And so, I feel the spirit of the three kings has left gifts in the form of awards, recognition and expressed gratitude in these early days of January.

Awards always come with rules, such as thanking the blogger who gave it to you, passing it to other bloggers, telling something about yourself and so on. I feel that all the bloggers I follow have already been given awards and several times already, so because this season of “gift-giving” lingers, it will give me great pleasure to give my blogging buddies a thank you gift with no strings attached, just ribbons, humble and simple brown paper and a message of gratitude.

Sidenote: As our girls grew up I used to delight in going to the gift wrap department of a department store and choose at least one decorator wrap for the most special of tangible gifts. Over the years, I learned these wraps inspired me and indeed I came to discover my own ways to wrap. So in recent Christmases I have abandoned the gift wrap department…no slight intended as all the gift wrapping elves did teach me one secret. Their packages popped. I take such motherly pride in CA daughter’s comment to her TX sister, “Your gifts look like they were wrapped at the North Pole!” Her comment was sincere and spontaneous, coming out of love and appreciation, to her sister who had lovingly prepared each package. Pop. The wrap was minimal. Brown paper. A simple red ribbon. And a Christmas message hand stamped to the recipient. Pop. You might recall our Christmas morning was conveyed via SKYPE yet our most precious of gifts, just being together was realized. Pop.

Dianna at These Days of Mine and Elyse at Fifty-four and a half presented me with the Candle-lighter Award last week. I consider this an honor, I thank them and I proudly accept.

The Candle-lighter Award is for “blogs and bloggers that light a candle in the darkness with their blog”. There are no rules, other than to pass it on to other bloggers who bring light to the world. I have learned so much from Dianna who posts daily. She has taught me that I don’t have to look far for inspiration and she also, has taught me it’s all right to comment frequently. Really. I truly enjoy starting my day at her site because each post is like initiating a conversation over a cup of coffee where I feel free to join in. Elyse brings me laughing and yes, even blushing in front of my computer screen. When a new post from her comes up in my reader, I make my way right over to read her candid message of humor or of seasoned experience. She flavors with a lot of spice…and likes Mexican food.

I will pass this recognition to the following bloggers:

MJ at Emjay and them makes me laugh, nod vigorously in agreement or can make a tear roll down my cheek. Her posts always engage her readers by asking a question or eliciting a reaction. She is always polite because that is the way her parents raised her. It’s common sense and intuition first with her, and also, a Mrs. Dash of unexpected fun. I know my family thanks her for the recipes.

jeanne at a nola girl at heart. She lights up our world reminding us of the beauty and work in gardening, decorating for the seasons and in the home, listening to a wide variety of music, keeping our American businesses in our minds and hearts by buying local whenever possible. I find rich variety in what jeanne posts and she never offends if she turns slightly political (wink). She writes from the heart and experience.

Priya at A Partial View acknowledged my blog this week and I thank her. For me her prose is poetic with insightful messages about hope, memory, family and beauty. I want to extend her this Candle lighter award. I am enriched by her thoughtful presence in our blogging world.

Susan Okaty at Coming East gets my Spanish ties. Having lived in Texas and raised her children here, she gets my affection and concern (the drought) for our state. She does not know this but my dad worked three decades for GE. Every time she mentions her GE percolator coffee pot, I have to smile at this remote connection to my parents’ similar GE pot. One of these days I will bake bread and braid the dough upon Susan’s encouragement.

There is nothing distant or out of focus with Lenore Diane’s Thoughts Exactly. Visit her exact thoughts, one hundred word pieces of flash fiction-”dribs and drabbles”- and her up close photographs. Her posts light the world of many.

Mama’s Empty Nest has already received this award. However I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge her sparkling website where she posts messages and photographs weekly. She has lived through the trials of multiple moves, raising a brood of children and has been challenged with the changes involved with watching them leave the nest. I am excited for her that 2012 has much in store. How much joy can one stand? This is her season/year of joy and I know her light will range from fireworks to gentle candlelight.

Dearrosie deservedly received The Versatile Blogger Award and Liebster Award. She reciprocated by wrapping beautiful gifts in well thought out photographs of gifts and messages that made each recipient feel so very special. She included me to receive one of her gifts. She has already made me feel so special in the comments she leaves at my posts. For each and every comment in 2011 and 2012, I thank her. And I thank her for dispatching her son to take the perfect photograph for her personalized gift to me, a Nativity scene from her neighborhood, to round out her gift giving. How very thoughtful. What an honor. You must visit dearrosie whose museum musings and other topics are vivid, candid, always respectful and reveal her wonder at the world. dearrosie I extend to you this Candlelighter Award in mutual admiration.

Thank you friends.

Enchanted Iron

I’m reposting this from my first month of blogging back in September of 2010. I’ll explain why on Thursday.

I went to Oaxaca, as a grad student wanting to photograph the wrought iron characteristic of European and Latin American architecture. Everything about the trip was adventurous. Our bus traveled at night to arrive at our destination from Mexico City very early in the morning. Thank goodness the trip was at night, because I was told that the winding roads were only one vehicle width and to the right where I was sitting, were ravines, drops and gorges that plunged a hundred feet or more. Several times the bus backed up to allow another vehicle by. It parked and idled for a few minutes against the mountain at the widest point of the road. Yep. In a word. Precarious.
Having survived the trip to Oaxaca, I knew I was destined to do something rare and fine. I decided to take pictures of the wrought iron that decorated the outside and inside walls of the stucco buildings, that draped the balconies, that clung to the holes in walls allowing for ventilation, that when opened in an archway beckoned visitors to pass through their gates and enter. It was rare because very little information is available on the metalworks. It was fine because the “rejas” that decorate not only the buildings of Oaxaca, can be found in other parts of the world as well, to charm the residents and visitors of countless sites for centuries.

Through word of mouth, the proud residents of Oaxaca guided me to their oldest “reja”, their most unusual “rejas” and others in between. I was

"Ojo de buey"

amazed at the versatility of the design. The “ojo de buey” allows for air ventilation through the thick stucco walls. The decorative bars over the windows were new and they were very old dating a few centuries. The vertical bars fitting through the horizontal bars exposed light and space, revealing very old wrought iron carefully fitted together. New designs were welded. The balconies revealed not only Spanish and indigenous design, but also gave evidence of French presence. Very delicate hammering of natural motifs on gates were also, evidence of age. The closed gates signalled that private lives were going on behind them. Partially opened gates indicated that the occupants were busy entering and leaving. And wide open gates seemed to welcome passersby to knock a giant knocker, ring the bell and come in.

The base of the "escalera de caracol"

Late one morning during my stay, an older woman I would guess in her 70′s or 80′s, stopped me to ask if I was the girl photographing “rejas.” Filled with pride, she explained to me that hers was one of the most unusual. She invited me to view her “escalera de caracol”, winding staircase. I followed her around the corner and down a street. We entered an humble courtyard with colorful potted plants and there it was–a winding staircase flanked by a winding balustrade. It was lovely. I did not have the heart to tell her that due to the very limited space within the courtyard, I could not take a picture of the entire staircase. She never had to know that the several pictures I took were what I would need to piece this magnificent “reja” together.

The top of the "caracol"