Tuesday, March 24, 2009

ABC Wednesday - J is for John, Justine, Justin, (Annie, Christopher & Victoria)

And the family/home references continue!

This is a picture of all my kids - my daughter, my son, my stepdaughter, my nephews and my niece. Since half of them are "J"s I thought it was a fitting entry for this week. This picture was taken at a family birthday party last November. It was one of the few times we had them all together because they are as far away as Florida and Arizona. They are in college - just starting or all the way to grad school or they are working - trying to make their way. We are as proud as punch of all of them and that day, realized how grateful we all are to have such beautiful, talented children. (Why do I still call them children? One, because they always will be our children and Two because it still takes over ten shots to get one good picture!)

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Wednesday, March 18, 2009

ABC Wednesday - I is for Inbox

The Internet is great, isn't it? Access to the world - as evidenced by this very activity, ABC Wednesday. Possibly one of the reasons that I am so late in posting this week is due to the Internet and one of its insidious time-sappers - the email Inbox. Over 4,000 emails are in my Inbox and they date back over 2 years. Really? Is there some reason that I have to keep emails over 2 years? I think not - but because my Inbox fills up daily, I have yet to spend the day or so required to clean the darn thing out.
So here I sit...under the ABC Wednesday wire...trying to go online while being beckoned by my Inbox siren's call to just check in. And maybe answer one or two...

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Wednesday, March 11, 2009

ABC Wednesday H is for Homebody

Main Entry: home·body
Pronunciation: \hōm-bä-dē\
Function: noun
Date: 1821
: one whose life centers on home

I am a homebody. I could stay home all the time, all day, all night. I love my home and everything and everyone in it.

I am finding that, since starting the ABC Wednesday blog, I seem to be drifting to topics that have to do with home and hearth. When trying to think of topics to post, I am inevitably drawn to those things that are close to my heart. I tried - really - to think of something artsy or clever or profound, but there you go. I am a homebody and that's what I am writing about.

This is my porch. If I'm not in my home, I'm on my porch. It's not just me, either. Everyone who comes to visit loves to sit on my porch, too. It's not huge, but it's big enough for whoever is out there. It's like the Room of Requirements at Hogwarts. (Oh - I could have done Harry Potter!).

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Tuesday, March 3, 2009

ABC Wednesday - G is for Grandparents

Grand parents, that's what they are. All my childhood memories are warm, sweet, magical moments of being loved and fed by the most amazing and curious people I'd ever known. For my own children, my parents became these wonderful beings as they guided them, cherished them and acted as role models while I was busy trying to figure out single-parenting. God bless Grandparents.
This is all three of my grandparents, but we'll get to Nana in a second. Oscar (middle) and Agnes (right) Eastman were my dad's parents. I don't think I ever saw Grandma without her arms wrapped tightly to her waist. She was probably holding in laughter at her grandkids because we always seemed to confound her. But that didn't stop her from making sure we all had something good to eat and a clean bed to sleep in. Papa was always in the background, but not so much that we didn't know that he couldn't fix anything that popped a spring or lost a wheel. He was a Fuller Brush man and even though we didn't have a clue what that was, we knew he was part of some legendary team who brought people essential potions for daily living. Half of them were in their bathroom closet.
Here's Nana - Helen Russell, in an early studio photo. She was something - the world's first single mom. At least that's what I always thought of her. She lived in an apartment with a French poodle named Gigi, rumored to be the sister of the dog belonging to the Queen of Romania. I never once doubted it. Nana used to make us colored milk when we went to visit - she was an artist, you know. That's how artists drink their milk - blue, pink, orange. Everyone knows that. When we used to go visit her in New York, we thought we were the coolest kids ever, "my grandmother lives in an apartment in New York City. Where did you say your grandmother lived?" She let us have every single version of her life that we imagined without spoiling it with the reality that she was really just a commercial artist who worked in a small office with a view of the Empire State Building. How cool is that?
These hip folks are my kids grandparents - Warren and Pattie - aka Grandma and Papa. They live in Florida part-time and Maine part-time and drive back and forth in between. I'm lucky that they still come and spend a week or so with us at each end of the trip. They are as interested and involved in my kids lives as they always were, and, even if my kids don't know it yet, were an integral part in their growing up. But they'll realize it one day. Maybe they'll even write a blog about it.

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Monday, March 2, 2009

The "Short Hair" picture

In the essay below, I write about my "new" short hair - and how that makes me a grown up. A couple of days later came a comment about how I had neglected to show my new hair, as my profile picture clearly shows that it is quite long. That's because, in an effort to get this blog up and running, I chose an essay that I wrote a couple of years ago. Could I have written a brand, spanking new one - about - say - long hair? Yes, I could have. Did I? No.

In the interest of truth in publishing, here now is a picture of when I cut my hair short. It took some time to find a picture that I would post, because it wasn't the most flattering look for me. Here with me is the provocateur, the author of the comment, the reason I am doing this - my brother. This was taken - a few years ago - at the Lake Shrine in Los Angeles. A beautiful place where we spent part of a picture-perfect California day. Thanks for the opportunity to remember that day, Rich! (That's funny - you don't look anything like this anymore either!)