a journey for one” – all journeys are journeys for one. -- Sigman Shapiro
Introducing to you writer/poet/philosopher Sigman Shapiro. Mr. Shapiro has contributed work to "Autumn Lanes" and another adventure book (poety/photography) still sitting on my shelf under "documents." His most recent musings on his website (listed below) is inspiring to me, makes me think. If you like poetry, like writing stories, or just contemplate the universe, check this out.
http://infloressence.wordpress.com/2012/12/10/purpose-and-meaning-what-matters/
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Monday, December 10, 2012
A Victorian Christmas
The masterful Tim Ryan has done it again. Each year he hosts this marvelous Christmas gathering in his home. An expert in antiques, his house is delightful, and every corner has a bit of Christmas tucked in.
His ancestors would be proud, I'm sure. Maybe they can see from their portrait on the wall (another stunning antique!). Below is last year's Victorian Christmas we put together.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Our Personal Fiscal Cliff
Jon Katz' Bedlam Farm Journal is a daily read for me. His most recent writing was thoughts on his own "Fiscal Cliff." I found it fascinating and inspirational as I face my own (and how many more of us face it, but just haven't given it that politically correct term).
As the years loom ahead of us, it seems the dark cloud on the eastern horizon gets darker. The "fiscal cliff."
The aging process continues as I face each day with new revelations my body tells me: "no more knee socks" as the pressure on the patella makes it painful to do anything but be immobile (HAH!). The Stelera works. It's helped my psoriasis--well and now there is a slight flair up. But it's working. The dark cloud again looms ahead...all of the complications that could occur and will eventually cause me to abandon another drug. Once upon a time, I would have never considered this drug, but faced with a quality short life vs. a non-quality short life, I have chosen the one that, short term, is less excruciating. I thank Johnson & Johnson, the makers of Stelera, for their generosity and financial aid to make this possible.
No full time job and no great gift from the wise men "health insurance." Jobs applied for are at best, answered by a form letter, at worst, not acknowledged at all. I spent about $150 on an outfit for a job interview, to look my best, this fall, for an interview. Not even a courtesy rejection letter was written by the company thanking me for my time. (Can I write off the clothing?)
The "fiscal cliff."
There are a few that have raised possibilities: hope remains when we can be constructive about our situation. Gardens, other self-supporting means. Barter. Being prepared for what lies ahead.
I think of my grandmother and the Great Depression of the 1930s. She took in ironing, sold eggs. Her husband was handicapped from WW I and an operation that left him in pain and an invalid for the next 20 years. Widowed at 52, she continued in her journey. Left with two babies from my uncle, she lived on a non-working farm hand to mouth. She'd fear the sound of the wild cats at night, alone in the farm house on an old dirt road, fearing they'd smell the babies and come take them. In and about 1956, my parents and sister moved in with her briefly, and I was born. The babies, by then, had been taken back by my uncle. Gram was alone. Fast forward to 1962, she had her own apartment and worked for the Races', housekeeping and childrearing. When that was over, she had a few odds and ends jobs, but they never worked out for very long. The main idea here, though, is that, all of her life, she was a fighter. She made the most of her world. Starting as a Wisconsin farm girl, making her way to New York, finding her husband and living her life, she truly lived. She wasn't rich, but she never felt poor, like she could have. I never thought of her as poor, though she had the right to be. And she didn't live off the system, either.
Are we ready, as we face our "fiscal cliff?"
As the years loom ahead of us, it seems the dark cloud on the eastern horizon gets darker. The "fiscal cliff."
The aging process continues as I face each day with new revelations my body tells me: "no more knee socks" as the pressure on the patella makes it painful to do anything but be immobile (HAH!). The Stelera works. It's helped my psoriasis--well and now there is a slight flair up. But it's working. The dark cloud again looms ahead...all of the complications that could occur and will eventually cause me to abandon another drug. Once upon a time, I would have never considered this drug, but faced with a quality short life vs. a non-quality short life, I have chosen the one that, short term, is less excruciating. I thank Johnson & Johnson, the makers of Stelera, for their generosity and financial aid to make this possible.
No full time job and no great gift from the wise men "health insurance." Jobs applied for are at best, answered by a form letter, at worst, not acknowledged at all. I spent about $150 on an outfit for a job interview, to look my best, this fall, for an interview. Not even a courtesy rejection letter was written by the company thanking me for my time. (Can I write off the clothing?)
The "fiscal cliff."
There are a few that have raised possibilities: hope remains when we can be constructive about our situation. Gardens, other self-supporting means. Barter. Being prepared for what lies ahead.
I think of my grandmother and the Great Depression of the 1930s. She took in ironing, sold eggs. Her husband was handicapped from WW I and an operation that left him in pain and an invalid for the next 20 years. Widowed at 52, she continued in her journey. Left with two babies from my uncle, she lived on a non-working farm hand to mouth. She'd fear the sound of the wild cats at night, alone in the farm house on an old dirt road, fearing they'd smell the babies and come take them. In and about 1956, my parents and sister moved in with her briefly, and I was born. The babies, by then, had been taken back by my uncle. Gram was alone. Fast forward to 1962, she had her own apartment and worked for the Races', housekeeping and childrearing. When that was over, she had a few odds and ends jobs, but they never worked out for very long. The main idea here, though, is that, all of her life, she was a fighter. She made the most of her world. Starting as a Wisconsin farm girl, making her way to New York, finding her husband and living her life, she truly lived. She wasn't rich, but she never felt poor, like she could have. I never thought of her as poor, though she had the right to be. And she didn't live off the system, either.
Are we ready, as we face our "fiscal cliff?"
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Christmas Wrappings
"Narrator: He puzzled and puzzled till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before! Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas... perhaps... means a little bit more!" (Borrowed from "How the Grinch Stole Christmas")
candle.jpg)
I sit here buried in packaging from 5 mere little candles. Goose Creek packs them in a HUGE box, with plenty of paper. Scads of it.... Goose Creek packs them very well, I got them within 3 days, actually. They truly are the best in scented candles! And I've never been a candle fanatic--until now.
candle.jpg)
Thursday, December 6, 2012
"Oh Christmas Tree.."
This is the first in a series (I'm guessing), regarding "the holidays."
The tree always fascinated me. I loved decorating it as a child.
Well, I guess I loved the presents more...but check out that enormous tree.
Or is it the tinsel that make it seem that way? Or seeing only a part of the picture?
Hidden in between the branches are my favorite ornaments. I remember the broken Santa bulb that someone strung a ribbon on and hung on the tree (I have that one). There was a red clear ball with white polka dots. That was my favorite. There was the "ornament" tree topper, we didn't have a star (which always confused me, weren't trees supposed to be topped by a star, as opposed to an "ornament?" (Oh, the musings of childhood.)
The trees shrank over the years (well, no, this one is still pretty tall...)
The tree always fascinated me. I loved decorating it as a child.
Well, I guess I loved the presents more...but check out that enormous tree.
Hidden in between the branches are my favorite ornaments. I remember the broken Santa bulb that someone strung a ribbon on and hung on the tree (I have that one). There was a red clear ball with white polka dots. That was my favorite. There was the "ornament" tree topper, we didn't have a star (which always confused me, weren't trees supposed to be topped by a star, as opposed to an "ornament?" (Oh, the musings of childhood.)
The trees shrank over the years (well, no, this one is still pretty tall...)
I remember going out in blizzard like conditions to get a $2 tree with Dad, one for our house and one for Gramma Doty (I specifically remember that as being the tree that she had a resident come in with the tree and the bat was flying everywhere. She had the flu and thought she was seeing things). I remember the year we went with the Strattons all over the fields and woods in search of a tree. I remember the first time we went and bought an artificial tree. Nylon branches, color coded. (hm...)
There are memories we made with our own children. Always ended up at the tree farm behind Shoemaker School, if we didn't we wished we had. A Douglas fir, always, I didn't want anything "picky." And we had our routine--we did the lights together with me on the chair and him following with the chain of lights as I'd tuck them in, then we'd let the kids decorate.
Then the year I moved home. I went with Terry and Julie Ives and their children to look for a tree. Terry fired up the tractor and we had hay bales and blankets in the wagon and we traipsed through the blizzard looking for the perfect tree. Wound up with the top 9 feet off a tree that was heaven only knows how tall. But for me that was my favorite tree of all. Being a tree top, branches are sparser, lots of room in between, and that space was best utilized by my "famous" Saks' Fifth Avenue ornaments. The year Nicole lived with me, we went (again in a blizzard) out to Lowe's and just bought an artificial tree. We'd been waiting to get a real tree, but the mood struck and there we were, it was a mood lifter for us and it was a great tree. I have had that tree for a few years now, but it has been in the attic for the last 2. My cats are seeker and destroyers and I just don't want tree issues.
And this year...? Yesterday I went to the attic barn and found my daughter's tree she had purchased a few years ago. (As a part of her announcement of her big move, she brought me the tree in the box.) I sorted through my box and found sweet ornaments that are, for the most part, unbreakable. With Angela's help in construction, we then decorated Grandma's tree. It sits here in the corner of my big kitchen, with the gingerbread house Milo, Brooke and I created together (and finished by Dan and Caleb).
Family Fun
Dan and family, Caleb and family were around this past weekend and the weather cooperated so we could take some photos.
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| Me and my grandchildren! |
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| Blakesley in my dress |
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| My boys! |
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| Caped Crusaders |
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Walt
My classmate, Walt Boname, came for a visit. Not entirely leisurely, it was with sadness and support for our friend and also childhood classmate as she lost her husband this past week. He also was a high school classmate and one of Walt's best friends.
Walt's life is that of a huntsman and guide. While here he took to the woods and was able to come up with a fisher, a deer with friend Greg, and this grouse. She was wounded so she became my dinner. Pictures show the course of events.
Delicious! Thank you, Walt!
Walt's life is that of a huntsman and guide. While here he took to the woods and was able to come up with a fisher, a deer with friend Greg, and this grouse. She was wounded so she became my dinner. Pictures show the course of events.
Delicious! Thank you, Walt!
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