52 Photos 27: Someone You Love

I had hoped this week's gallery would provide an opportunity to try my hand at portraits, something I  haven't really done yet. Unfortunately, my particular beloved someones were unenthusiastic about posing for me. On to Plan B: Cropping an existing photo to turn it into a portrait. Above is the result, an image of my younger son, Mike.

And for good measure here's an older one I did of my little nephew, who is too young to protest.





Posted for the 52 Photos Project

52 Photos Gallery 25: Starts With a C

"C" is for South Bend Color Run 2013...



and for my son and daughter-in-law finishing their first 5K, Completely Covered in Colors as they Complete the Course. This event was their motivation and goal, keeping them on track as they Cut Calories, lost weight, and started running. I am so proud of them both!



"C" is also for Creepy and for Clearly Crazy Characters:



I haven't been around for about a week because our phone/Internet cable was cut by workmen removing a tree across the street from us. Sorry if you've commented and I haven't returned the visit - I'll do better now, provided they get the new cable buried without breaking it. (It's currently just a heavy wire running along the road.) Cross your fingers for me!

Posted for the 52 Photos Project

About Gatsby

For those who are following the saga of my poor sick cat, there's an update on my other blog, Havenwood: Feeding the Kitty.

Again, thanks for all your helpful and comforting comments on the subject.

Monday Photo Shoot: "Youngins"

Carly at Ellipsis hosts the Monday Photo Shoot, and this week our challenge is to photograph young things--animal, vegetable, or mineral. What better opportunity to show off my first grand-nephew? The little guy is a year old already.

This was a high ISO shot, very noisy and a bit out of focus. I cropped out all but the face and added brushstrokes with Elements to see if I could salvage it. What do you think?

Be sure to stop by at Carly's place to see the other entries!

From Havenwood: To Bee or Not To Bee

When we bought the new place, we inherited a bee hive. Actually, we inherited quite a few, but most were paper wasps and yellow jackets that have since been evicted. This one, however was a honey bee hive, and I wasn't at all sure what to do with it. I didn't want to harm the little beasties, but I didn't want them stinging us, either... Please click here to continue.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered: It's Ours

We closed on the new house today!

I'm still half thrilled and half terrified. We spent the whole day there, the hubby mowing weeds and me exploring nooks and crannies, airing the place out and deciding on paint colors. Now, at last, this is beginning to feel real.

There are some fairly major things that still need doing, foremost among them being pumping out the septic tank and putting in a radon remediation system in the basement. I'll need kitchen appliances, too, which is a whole other post. But I'm excited about all the possibilities of life in the country.


The really nice thing about this place is the variety. There are irrigated open spaces for growing things, a fenced pasture and barn, plus acres of woods and a pond.








Oh yeah. This is gonna be fun.

Check out others' views at PhotoHunt
(Click photos to enlarge.)

Into the woods

Into the woods,
It's time to go,
I hate to leave,
I have to, though.
Into the woods-
It's time, and so
I must begin my journey...








Into the woods,
Without delay,
But careful not
To lose the way.
Into the woods,
Who knows what may
Be lurking on the journey?

Into the woods
To get the thing
That makes it worth
The journeying
into the woods. - Stephen Sondheim

In case anyone is wondering, I am still here, for the moment at least. We're going on vacation, and it's been more than a little bit crazy getting it all together.

We're heading up to the Adirondacks in New York, to a cabin on Indian Lake. There is no phone, no TV, and no Internet up there, so this blog will be on hiatus for a couple of weeks.

This is the first real vacation we've had in six years, and all of us are stoked. We've never used a cabin before, but Hubby and I are just beyond the whole tent-on-the ground thing. I can't wait to trade this treadmill life, at least for a while, for aimless days of hiking and swimming, kayaking and hammock swinging. We'll be checking out Fort Ticonderoga and the Adirondack Museum, too, which should be fun.

I greatly underestimated, however, the amount of money, manpower, and materielle it would take to get from here to there. Let me tell you, the simple life ain't easy - and it ain't cheap, either. In the course of outfitting ourselves, the van, the boat and the cabin we have become a one-family economic stimulus package.

The cat is going to the vet today to be boarded. He knows something's up, and I haven't even gotten the carrier out yet. He is making himself scarce and avoiding eye contact when he slinks by us. He is smarter than he looks.

We'll be on the lake for the full moon and for the summer solstice, which somehow seems very special. It will mean fewer stars to see, and that's a shame. But I can already imagine the moonlight on the water, moonshadows in the woods, and the sense of being poised at the turning of the season.

So. See you in couple of weeks, guys. Keep a light on for me, OK?

Time in a bottle

If only you could drown grief in the sea of possessions that arrives in the wake of a death. Instead, the stuff just makes you sink deeper.

When we moved Mom to my brother's house, I inherited a truckload of furniture and keepsakes, most of which are still sitting in boxes in the basement. We can barely use the dining room and kitchen, because two dining sets are jammed in there now. I don't want to part with either of them.

Now that Mom has passed, there is a whole new round of wrenching decisions to be made about what to do with her things. Mom never threw away anything, and neither did my Gran. The result is several generations worth of stuff that has moved in with us to stay.

My sister in law says they're holding on to a desk for me, because it was Mom's and I couldn't bear to think of it at Goodwill. There are already seven desks in this house. Every room except the kitchen and bathrooms has one. Where is the new one going? Where?

This week, a forty-five pound box from my sister arrived unannounced on my doorstep. It was like finding a litter of abandoned kittens out there; you have to take them in, but what are you going to do with them?

In the box were a few real treasures: two Fenton vases. A pair of brass candlesticks. Some nice earrings I can use.

There were hundreds of photographs, some in frames ... letters ... reels of home movies from decades ago. All of those have to stay, of course. Ditto for the watercolors Mom painted. Another box for my already crammed basement.

There was an afghan Mom made, white with a giant red cardinal in the center and green borders. I don't use red or green, but ... Mom made it. I guess it could come out for Christmas. There was a beautiful old crocheted bedspread, which the cat would shred in days if allowed anywhere near it. There were two fragile christening gowns I have never seen before, covered in fine French needlework. Well, I think, maybe there is a little more room in the cedar chest. But I know there isn't.

There was an ugly quilt top that was never quilted and a funny old Remington electric shaver from the 50's, still in the box with all the inserts. I think these may be eBay candidates. There were a lot of old linen napkins covered in brown spots, and a dozen embroidered ladies hankies. Goodwill? eBay? Trash?

Then there was the large pile of castoff knick-knacks, souvenirs, trinkets, toys, and drawer-dwelling whatsits. Some of them I remember from my childhood ... how could I throw them away? Some I know Mom loved, though I'm sure I never will. A small number are scooped into a bag for Goodwill, the rest go into another box for the basement.

And then, I found myself holding on to two stray Bobby pins. Bobby pins. Because I remember Mom putting her hair into pin curls with them.

I think I need help.

Round Robins: Wooden

Our challenge this time around on Round Robins is Wooden, a topic suggested by Kiva of the blog Eclectic Granny. I chose to photograph this bowl my husband made from the base of a backyard Euonymus bush that got completely out of control.

Actually, the Euonymous bowl was my second choice. I had a great little theme going for this, wooden red cherries in a cherry wood bowl made by my husband from a tree that once graced our front lawn. Or so I thought. Hubby Dearest came home as I was wrapping things up Friday and proceeded to burst my bubble:

He: "Uh, honey ... that's not cherry." Me: "Whatta ya mean? Didn't you make this out of that tree we cut down out front? The one the carpenter ants drilled full of holes?" He: "Nope. It's from a chunk o' wood a friend gave me. I think it's maple."

Dang. Well, no matter. It's a cool bowl, and the cherries are kinda cute, and I spent hours fussing with the thing. So you're getting these, too:








As always, there are lots and lots more photos to see over at the Round Robin home page. Be sure to check them out, OK?

Back to earth

It's been over two weeks now since Mom crossed over. The last few days have seemed strangely quiet. There is nothing more to say or to do. Days have become predictable again, scheduled and ordinary. It feels like emerging from the cellar after a howling storm has passed. Everything is suddenly still, but nothing will ever again be the same.

I want to thank everyone who left kind messages here and sent comforting emails. Knowing you were here, wrapping me in a virtual hug, made a big difference. I will always treasure your gentle support.

Round Robins: Captions

Have you ever saved a memory without meaning to ... without knowing, at the time, that it would be with you always?

The last time I saw my mother, these tulips were in her room, a gift from my brother and sister-in-law. The bouquet was of humble origin, an impulse purchase from the grocery store on the way to the hospital. In the way of all things removed from their roots, the blooms were dying slowly, inevitably. But on this day they were magnificent.

Everyone who came by--doctors, nurses, guests--remarked on the beauty of these flowers, and Mom acknowledged the compliments with pride. She was, in life, an avid gardener. Irises were her favorites, but she loved anything green and growing.

I had my camera with me, and I offered to take a picture. We scoped out a bare wall, the only one away from the equipment and tubing where the light was adequate. I fiddled with the settings and tried not to shake the camera while she watched and waited. I lay next to her in the narrow bed to show her the results in the view screen, and she was so pleased with the pictures we'd made.

Mom is gone now. I have so many memories of her, of our lives together. Each one is a snapshot, a frozen moment in time. This is one of the last.

In the fall, I believe I will plant pink tulips. I will whisper: Mom, do you see? And then I will wait, and I will remember. And I will hope for spring.

More Photos: Round Robins Photo Shoot
Quote: "Forever is composed of nows." ~ Emily Dickinson

Hiatus

I'll be taking a break from blogging for a bit. My mother passed away this morning after a long illness, and it's going be a while before I can think of much else. I may be checking in on your blogs as time allows, but I won't be posting here until everything is settled. I will be back when the spirit moves. Til then, be well.

Round Robins: A Nice Place to Sit

This week the Round Robins are looking for a great place to settle in for a while. I've chosen this little chair, built for my younger son by his grandfather.

It's hard to believe my boys were ever that small. Son the Younger used to sit here for hours, strumming a ukulele with two strings and singing along with Rafi tapes. Now it's a good spot for a bookworm bear. Some days, I'd give a lot to see that baby again. Some days, I'd give a lot to be this bear.

Thanks for this week's theme go to Tammie Jean of the blog Long Drives To Nowhere. Be sure to click over to the Robins to see all the entries!

Sunrise, sunset

Today I am a great aunt! My nephew and his wife this morning had a happy, healthy baby boy, the first of a new generation of our family. Needless to say, everyone is thrilled.

This particular nephew was the first child born in his own generation, the first child of my husband's sister. How well I recall meeting him and bouncing him on my knee when he was only six months old. Was that really 25 years ago?

Great aunt. It conjures up chintz pillows and tea cozies, African violets and small mutant dogs, doesn't it? And wow ... hubby's baby sister is now a grandmother. All of us just moved up a notch on the Old-o-meter.

Now that I think about it, I'm not sure I'm ready for this.

Monopoly

Here's something sneaky to check out before the family pulls out the board games this holiday season: How to Win at Monopoly.

I ran into it over at the blog Look at This. It's a strategy guide based on probability studies, for people who really, really need to win.

In my experience, whoever gets Boardwalk and Park Place has the game in the bag. Period.

When I was a kid, Monopoly was one of those things that always seemed like a good idea at the beginning. I think it was the cute little playing pieces. We had a really old set with metal markers. There was a car, a top hat, a shoe ... and all those tiny little houses were fun, too. We'd roll the dice and set off from GO with all the optimism of a Donald Trump. Once somebody grabbed the good properties, though, it devolved into hours and hours of increasing hostility, ending in hard feelings and vows to never play with this thing again.

Eventually we'd run across the box in the bottom of the closet, by which time we'd have forgotten how awful it was the last time, and there we'd be once more: Some of us gloating, and some of us glaring at gloaters.

Maybe it's the money that makes it mean. Nobody ever got so worked up over Mousetrap.

October holidays

October's poplars are flaming torches lighting the way to winter. - Nova Bair

Ah, October. What September started, this month will finish. Leaves are turning in earnest, and the weatherman is forecasting frost. Time to haul the sweaters out of the cedar chest, to try on last year's coats and boots before the snow flies.

October is named for the eighth month of the Roman calendar. It is the tenth month of the Japanese lunar calendar, where it is called Kannazuki, "the month when there are no gods." Legend has it that the eight million gods of Japan leave their shrines in October and convene at the grand shrine of Izumu Taisha to discuss the state of the world. (I guess the best you can do if you need one is to leave a message.)

This is the month of the Full Hunters' Moon, and its birthstone is opal -- a stone said to be mysterious and powerful, but also unlucky for any but those born in October.

October is Diabetes Awareness Month, a subject close to my own heart. It is also Adopt a Shelter Dog Month, International Drum Month, and National Popcorn Popping Month. And Oktoberfest is in full swing.

Interesting holidays are a bit thin on the ground this month, but Halloween makes up for that, lasting all month as it does these days. However, there are a few worth mentioning: October 2 is Name Your Car Day. (I think I'll call mine Martha. It's a minivan.) October 6 is Mad Hatter Day, when we're allowed to admit that we are all completely nuts. The 11th is Take Your Teddy Bear to Work Day, which may or may not be a great idea, depending on your office culture and career goals. If the bear thing goes badly, you can recoup your losses on the 16th with a nice suck-up present for Bosses Day. On the other hand, if you got away with having a teddy bear in your cubicle, you can probably pull off Wear Something Gaudy Day on October 17.

Sweetest Day is becoming mainstream, but I gotta say I don't get it. I mean, don't we have Valentine's Day for that? But hey, if you want it, go for it. It's October 21. Ditto for Mother in Laws' Day, October 28, which is a rerun of Mothers' Day if you did that one right. If you blew Mothers' Day, this is your chance to grovel your way back into a Mom's good graces.

All of which, of course, pales in comparison with the blow out, big-finish death fest on October 31, AKA Halloween. After which, it is officially time to get going on Christmas, the big mack daddy of all holidays. Now that's scary.

Talisman

The Round Robin Challenge theme this time is "talisman" -- a suggestion of my own that seemed like a good idea at the time, but that proved to be more difficult than anticipated.

Not that my life isn't full of emotionally laden, strange, and "lucky" objects, but most of them show no outward sign of their power, nothing that could be captured in a photograph. Except maybe this.

My grandfather was a Mason, a member of the Scottish Rite. It was never discussed in the family, and I never heard him mention a thing about it, but he always wore a plain gold ring inscribed only with a triangle enclosing a single, mysterious symbol. He would never explain to me what it was. That ring was a source of burning curiosity throughout my childhood, and it probably contributed mightily to my lifelong love for mysteries, secrets, and hidden meanings.

Given all that, imagine my delight when presented with this exotic and beautiful little pin.

I was about to travel alone for the first time, setting off on an adventure far from home and family. My grandmother took me aside and pinned it to the lapel of my coat. She said that it would protect me, because any Mason who saw it would keep watch over me and see that I came to no harm. I don't know if that was true, but it was heady stuff to think that I walked among an invisible, secret brotherhood who would have my back if I needed them.

I don't wear the pin anymore because I think it's really meant only for Masons themselves, and I wouldn't want to offend. But holding it still brings back that sense of magical protection that saw me through my first flight from the nest.


*The other Robins have talismans too. Click here to see them all.

Dick and Jane don't live here anymore

Back-to-school shopping ain't what it used to be.

Bulletproof bookbags have joined new shoes, crayons, and gummy pink erasers on the list of must-have items.

Per MJ Safety Solutions, maker of the bags: "Now you can provide on the spot protection against guns and knife violence ... provide Level II ballistic protection, as found in most police body armor, at almost 1/10 the weight." Their online checkout is having a hard time handling the demand, even at $175 a pop.

Has it really come to this?

Eve of The Deathly Hallows

It's been ages since looking forward to something actually kept me awake. Knowing the last Harry Potter book arrives tonight, I kind of feel like a kid again on Christmas Eve. By this time tomorrow, everyone will know the answers to the questions all Potter fans have pondered for the past two years. Meanwhile, here's the view from my crystal ball:

Dumbledore is dead, but he'll pull an Obi-Wan; that is, he'll be more powerful in death than he ever was in life, able to take on Voldemort and the Death Eaters from the very place they fear most.

Snape dies, but he dies a hero. I believe he killed Dumbledore in a pact the two made to save Draco. I suspect he will help bring down the Dark Lord to avenge Lilly Potter, the only person who was ever kind to him. He tolerates and protects Harry because he is her son. He's a Grinch alright, but he's on the side of the angels.

Harry lives. So do Ron and Hermione. I don't get the impression we're being set up for a tragic ending. One of the two, Voldemort or Harry, must die. Voldemort, of course, is toast. Nowhere have we been led to believe both must die ... unless Harry himself, and not just his scar, is a horcrux. But I think he'd have leaned a good bit more toward the dark side all along if that were the case. Besides, I'll be royally ticked off if any of those three don't make it out alive.

Time will tell. Only a few hours to go.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Let's be frank. I love J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and, after waiting so long for this movie, there was no way I wasn't going to enjoy it. Even so, "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" greatly exceeded my expectations.

Daniel Radcliffe has come into his own as an actor, playing Harry with a new depth and confidence that fits well with the character at this point in the story. The acting skills of Emma Watson as Hermione and Rupert Grint as Ron are markedly more mature, as well. And this director seems to take them more seriously. (There was not one scene where any of them screamed "Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!" in unison. I hate that.)

Radcliffe does a great job with the first kiss scene, and the group discussion of the event afterwards in the dorm is pitch-perfect. Both have to be among the best scenes in the whole Potter series. And of course, there is the grand exit of the Weasley twins, a gratifying moment if ever there was one.

Casting could not be better for the new characters: Imelda Staunton is thoroughly loathesome as the odious, simpering Delores Umbridge. Newcomer Evanna Lynch is exactly as I had pictured the quiet, quirky starchild Luna Lovegood. I do wish there had been more footage of Helena Bonham Carter as Bellatrix Lestrange; she is at once mesmerizing and terrifying in the role. I'm sure we'll be seeing more of her next time, though. I look forward to that.

I wish I could be as enthusiastic about Michael Gambon as Dumbledore. He just doesn't have the bearing and voice that Richard Harris brought to the part. And what is up with that awful, clingy, grey nylon nightgowny thing they've always got him in? Harris had beautifully sumptuous robes, which added substance and style. I can't for the life of me figure out why they did away with that awesome wardrobe. Ah well.

The last movie, "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" was disappointing to me, because so much of the book was left out or tweaked, and what remained felt like fleeting glimpses of scenes from the novel. It reminded me of those little cartoon flip-books, where the action is jerky and disjointed. Knowing the Order of the Phoenix book was even longer, I was braced for more of the same.

Fortunately, the new movie didn't have the same rushed feel to it. OK, all of the subplots are missing, entire backstories are summed up in a sentence or two, and segments are a bit truncated. There are none of the delicious background action effects such as those in the The Leaky Cauldron or Gringots Bank from the first two movies. (However, the extravagant effects of the final wizard battle and the total demolition of the Hall of Prophecies pretty much make up for that. I imagine the IMAX version of the last twenty minutes is downright spectacular.)

At this point in the story, the straightforward storytelling seems as it should be. The situation is dire in the wizarding world. The good guys are under attack from all sides, and the characters are no longer children. The time for wide-eyed wonder is over.

We saw the film together as a family, and all of us -- ages 17 to 56 -- came away enchanted. As far as I'm concerned, that is movie magic.