"Don't worry that children never listen to you; worry that they are always watching you" (-Robert Fulghum)

Child Development

As sure as prehistoric fish grew legs

and sauntered off the beaches into forests

working up some irregular verbs for their

first conversation, so three-year-old children

enter the phase of name-calling.

Every day a new one arrives and is added

to the repertoire.  You Dumb Goopyhead,

You Big Sewerface, You Poop-on-the-Floor

(a kind-of Navajo ring to that one)

they yell from knee-level, their little mugs

flushed with challenge.

Nothing Samuel Johnson would bother tossing out

in a pub, but then the toddlers are not trying

to devastate some fatuous Enlightenment hack.

They are just tormenting their fellow squirts

or going after the attention of the giants

way up there with their cocktails and bad breath

talking baritone nonsense to other giants,

waiting to call them names after thanking

them for the lovely party and hearing the door close.

The mature save their hothead invective

for things: an errant hammer, tire chains,

or receding trains missed by seconds,

though they know in their adult hearts,

even as they threaten to banish Timmy to bed

for his appalling behavior,

that their bosses are Big Fatty Stupids,

their wives are Dopey Dopeheads

and that they themselves are Mr. Sillypants.

(--Billy Collins) 

(sketch after a photo image I found on the internet)

"My garden is my most beautiful masterpiece" (--Claude Monet)

Monet Refuses the Operation

Doctor, you say there are no haloes

around the streetlights in Paris

and what I see is an aberration

caused by old age, an affliction.

I tell you it has taken me all my life

to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels,

to soften and blur and finally banish

the edges you regret I don't see,

to learn that the line I called the horizon

does not exist and sky and water,

so long apart, are the same state of being.

Fifty-four years before I could see

Rouen cathedral is built

of parallel shafts of sun,

and now you want to restore

my youthful errors: fixed

notions of top and bottom,

the illusion of three-dimentional space,

wisteria separate

from the bridge it covers.

What can I say to convince you

the Houses of Parliament dissolve

night after night to become

the fluid dream of the Thames?

I will not return to a universe

of objects that don't know each other,

as if islands were not the lost children

of one great continent.  The world

is flux, and light becomes what it touches,

becomes water, lilies on water,

above and below water,

becomes lilac and mauve and yellow

and white and cerulean lamps,

small fists passing sunlight

so quickly to one another

that it would take long, streaming hair

inside my brush to catch it.

To paint the speed of light!

Our weighted shapes, these verticals,

burn to mix with air

and changes our bones, skin, clothes

to gases.  Doctor,

if only you could see

how heaven pulls earth into its arms

and how infinitely the heart expands

to claim this world, blue vapor without end.

(--Lisel Mueller)

"A sister is both your mirror--and your opposite" (--Elizabeth Fishel)

I was cleaning out files last night and stumbled on this old family photo,  sitting loose in a box.  

I have to admit, I'm posting this one thinking of Claudia:   when I visited her last week, she pulled out a few old photo albums, and we spent the good part of one evening reminiscing over photos of her kids when they were tiny.    It was fun laughing at some of the moments we remembered clearly, and as usual, it was just amazing to realize how much they've grown.  

This one of my two sisters and me perfectly describes the difference in our ages:  Mary Kate is the oldest, I'm the middle child, and Claudia is the youngest.  As Joe would say, we're "stair-stepped" here.  Of course, this photo was taken before Eddie was even a glimmer, so he's missing from the mix.  

I'm not sure who took the photo, but whoever it was chopped off a bit of Mary Kate's head!  My mother was  notorious for doing that, but my father was normally the photographer documenting us on film.   I think you can tell a lot from body language in photos, and this is definitely how I remember us as kids together.

The three of us were pretty much inseparable.  It's sad that we don't see each other that often these days, but even though this was a looooong time ago, when I look at this, it seems like just yesterday...

Doesn't Claudia just look like a little ragamuffin?    She has such a mischievous look on her face.  Truth be told, that's kind of exactly how she always is!

Cracks me up.  

"Food is an important part of a balanced diet." (--Fran Lebowitz

It seems strange to me that we're still seeing so many fledgling birds this late in the summer; nevertheless, they seem to be here in droves. Our bluebirds are busy in their house with a new clutch of eggs to help along.   I'm back home in North Carolina, and on our deck, yesterday,  there was a mockingbird family visiting.  

The parents have been busy educating their young to the ways of visiting the never-ending food supply on our deck.  

It never ceases to make me smile that the babies sometimes appear even larger than their parents, and while they certainly seem large enough to be capable of getting their own food, they helplessly flutter their wings, begging to be fed.  

The doting parents, ever patient, comply without so much as a sound.

Before you know it, though, the little guys will be assisting their own little ones.  

Last night, my camera finally bit the dust!  I suppose it's safe to say that I worked it to death.  God knows, I take millions of photos, so it was sure to happen at some point.  I'll be off to get myself a new one in a day or so, because I simply can't do without a camera to document the world around me...

"A vacation is having nothing to do and all day to do it in" (--Robert Orben)

Yesterday, my sister Claudia and I went exploring through the area where she lives.  While I love visiting cities and urban areas, (after all, I grew up on the outskirts of Manhattan,) I get my peace and sustenance from the rolling hills and beautiful landscapes that I enjoyed when I lived in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia.   Her family is about an hour outside of NYC, and very close to the Pennsylvania border and Buck's County, which is a delightful area we used to enjoy,  growing up.  We crossed the bridge over the Delaware river, and drove all along the old canal route.  

Years ago, barges came along the canals, and they were helped along by mules.  Today, what you see are the colorfully-painted mule statues, standing guard near those old canal towpaths.

And today, you're more likely to see people in canoes and inner tubes, relaxing in the cool Delaware river water, in efforts to ward off the intense heat.  The little towns in the area are just so charming and quaint, and they're great about maintaining the historical remnants of the past: the old bric-a-brac buildings, the waterside, shops, and parks.

I always remind Claudia that she lives permanently in an area that many people drive miles to see.  There really isn't any industry in this area, so it stays rural and lovely.  New Jersey isn't that big a state, so people can commute to jobs elsewhere without much trouble.  Claudia's fortunate that she has her own consulting company and she works from home, but her husband travels a little distance to work in nearby towns.  

While it was scorching hot yesterday, I found myself thinking that it still wasn't as uncomfortable as it would have been in North Carolina, because it wasn't as muggy and humid as North Carolina gets. 

Here's Claudia indulging me as I ask her to pose for me with a flag, at a restaurant along a canal.   She's great--she never complains!  

There are tons of little artsy buildings, B&B's,  antique stores, beautiful consignment shops, galleries, ice cream shops, cafes, restaurants, and old-fashioned bookstores in the area.  

Many aeons ago, when I was in high school, I was president of our French club, and I organized a trip for us all to New Hope, PA, very close to this area, and we went to a little restaurant called "Chez Odette."  I remembered the name of it, because I also remember reading that that was where Jessica Savitch, the news anchor from years ago, was, for dinner,  the night that her companion drove her car in the pouring rain into one of the canals, killing her.   

We were also in the area where Pearl Buck, the author of  The Good Earth, lived for some years on a beautiful farm.  (See below)  After browsing in the heat, we had to head inside again, and we had ice cream (again!)  at a little shop in Lambertville, and then came back to her place to cool off.


We drove through the nearby town where Elizabeth Gilbert, (author of Eat, Pray, Love) lives as well.


Tucker didn't join us on our trip today, since it was so hot, and we wanted to be able to dodge into shops to cool off, so he cuddled up as soon as we returned, happy to see his family again.

I believe he's trying to tell me I'm in "his" favorite spot, here:

It's been great to be with my sister, just relaxing, talking, and eating.  (But hey--I'm being good--I'm on weight watchers, remember!)

Here is some information about Pearl Buck.  If you never read The Good Earth, you should!:

"Sisters are different flowers from the same garden" (--Unknown)

I'm off visiting my sister Claudia in New Jersey.  

She lives in a quaint, idyllic little town in a beautiful part of New Jersey.  When I was married, my husband, Bob, used to call NJ the "armpit of the United States."  I have to disagree--I grew up here and have always thought it is a beautiful place.  I still think so.

I think about Claudia a summer ago, having to endure horrible chemo treatments and surgeries one after another.  So, this year, watching her,  I'm so happy to see her relaxing and just enjoying.  It's wonderful to see her feeling so good again!

She and her family live in Clinton, which is right on the Raritan river, and is very picturesque.  I always love visiting this place.  

Their home in the area is a new home that they built here some years ago,  but the charming downtown area is just a block or two away from them, and I'm always psyched to go browse that area: it's like a walk back in time.

Claudia and I took their dog, a corgie named Tucker, and we went out for ice cream, and walked around the area for a bit.  Very relaxing.

Lots of Americana in Clinton!  And blooming flowers everywhere...

A tiny little ice cream shop had families, dogs, and children lined up waiting in the warm summer night for cool treats.  Claudia got a dish of butter pecan, and I had black cherry.  This hung from a tree outside the shop:

Lots of nice little outdoor cafes and eateries...I loved these urns:

Did I say flowers everywhere?...

Hope you're having a good summer!  I remember how kind all my blogging friends were towards Claudia last year when I was panicking over all she was going through--you can't know how nice it is to have her feeling relaxed and happy and "normal" again.  

We'd planned to head to Europe after her treatments were over, but she and her family have timeshares they have to use or they lose them, and they didn't go anywhere last year, so our trip is out this year.  I decided to take matters into my own hands and at least head up to see her instead.  

I'm glad I did...

Happy summer!

"Elephants and grandchildren never forget" (--Andy Rooney)

The Elephant

When people call this beast to mind,

They marvel more and more,

At such a little tail behind,

So large a trunk before.

(--Hilaire Belloc)

Joe and I visited the Field Museum in Chicago, and saw these two giants in the grand lobby.   They seemed somehow graceful despite their enormity, to me.   

"Painters must speak through paint, not through words." (--Hans Hoffman)

Is it just me?

I find that I go through periods where I just cannot pick up a paintbrush, and then there are times when I just don't have time to pick one up.  It frustrates me, because when I finally get the chance to start in again, it feels like I've never touched the paint before in my life.  It's as if I'm starting from ground zero.  Why is that?

I guess it's all part of the struggle...

"Opportunity follows struggle.  It follows effort.  It follows hard work.  It doesn't come before."  (--Shelby Steele)

"Give me a museum and I'll fill it" (--Pablo Picasso)

MUSEUM PIECE

The good gray guardians of art

Patrol the halls on spongy shoes,

Impartially protective, though

Perhaps suspicious of Toulouse.

Here dozes one against the wall,

Disposed upon a funeral chair.

A Degas dancer pirouettes

Upon the parting of his hair.

See how she spins!  The grace is there,

But strain as well is plain to see.

Degas loved the two together:

Beauty joined to energy.

Edgar Degas purchased once

A fine El Greco, which he kept

Against the wall beside his bed

To hang his pants on while he slept.

(--Richard Wilbur)

Recently, Joe and I traveled to Chicago, and while we were there, we visited the Art Institute, which was amazing.   I did these sketches of some of the folks we saw at the museum while we were there: I'm so out of practice painting that I may try to do a bunch more, since they're fun and just a good exercise.   (These are on Yupo.  What WAS I thinking!)

(With many apologies to Rick Tulka!)

"A painting in a museum hears more ridiculous opinions than anything else in the world."  (--Edmond de Goncourt)

Happy 4th of July to everyone!

Recently, Joe and I traveled to Chicago, and then when we came home, we had visitors here: my brother and sister-in-law were visiting over the weekend, and so there's been no time for a paintbrush of late.

I'm sure you've probably given up on me, but I will get to it again...I promise.  Wishing everyone a really beautiful holiday weekend. 


July 4th has always been one of my favorite holidays.  


I remember being little and heading to the playground near us, where they gave us root beer popsicles, (which I've never seen again since,) and of course,  red, white, and blue popsicles, for the occasion.   Mom dressed us up in little romper suits that had red, white and blue stripes, and our hair would be up in buns on our heads to stave off the steamy hot day.  We'd grill outside, and since we didn't have air conditioning for many years, we'd haul our whole wooden kitchen table and chairs set outside for a meal in the summer night.   I can still recall being transfixed by the tall, green glasses that held my parents' iced coffee, and I'd watch as they poured a little bit of milk into the glasses, as it would slowly swirl around, and create a magical pattern on the sweating glass.   


 My parents would haul us all off at night to the local fireworks, where we'd all lie down together on blankets and gaze up at the skies, ooh-ing and aaah-ing at the brilliant colors that filled the night.    In summer, we'd catch fireflies in mayonnaise jars, poking holes in the lids and gently placing leaves inside, for the little critters, until they'd light up periodically, and then,  we'd release them into the night air.  


We rarely head to the fireworks these past few years, but I always love this holiday, and we always celebrate with good friends and foods.  I still head outside and place flags in our planters and think about how fortunate I am to be living just where I am...


Joe and I will spend the evening with his son and daughter-in-law, and we'll eat, drink, laugh, and reminisce.  I'm totally looking forward to it.  


"The greatest lesson we can learn from the past...is that freedom is at the core of every successful nation in the world."  (unknown)


And just in case you're going to miss 'em tonight, here are some fireworks to enjoy: