in memoriam

My former neighbor’s father died suddenly this week, and I’ve been thinking about him, as well as feeling such grief for my friend and her family.  This guy was an unforgettable character, larger than life and full of life.  I would always smile when I noticed his old white car in the parking lot, because he would often drive up from Florida to Atlanta, just for a weekend, to see his grandchildren.  In his early seventies, with white hair and beard, he was sprightly and slim, friendly and easygoing.  He’d have a kayak tied on top of the little SUV, and always had a project or an outing planned for his grandson.  When his granddaughter was born, the man was absolutely gaga for this little girl.  I just watched a video that was made in May, of him and the kids, that was so incredibly sweet, and illustrated his love for those kids and his (favorite) daughter, his ability to be fully in the present, and his generous and kind nature.  My eyes teared up, and I gave a silent homage to a very good man.

what do i want to be when i grow up

Even though I have enjoyed practicing nursing for 37 years, with only a couple of unsatisfactory positions, still I feel the urge to do SOMETHING DIFFERENT.  It seems my next job will be somewhat of a departure from previous work, though still in the realm of nursing, and I’m looking forward to starting work on Monday.

When I moved to Atlanta five years ago, it was on the heels of having spent time volunteering at a nonprofit community art gallery, and I LOVED working with staff, hanging around paintings, helping set up exhibits.  I even sold a couple of paintings from the collection, an incredible and humbling experience.  I had the idea that I would start up a gallery in Atlanta, one that would show works of new artists and incorporate opportunities for kids to make art.  Unfortunately, the recession meant that galleries everywhere were in trouble and it was no time to try such a venture.

I wonder if the dream will ever be possible, this idea that lives in the back of my mind.

Meanwhile, I do my small part to create beauty in the world.  Our group just completed a mixed-media book with the theme “recipes” and the books turned out splendidly.  Each has cover art from a French calendar of vintage labels, and the pages feature folded paper, family recipes, rich textures, bright and bold colors, original photos.  My son looked the book over, and wanted to eat foods made from the pages for the next thirty days!  The next book’s focus will be “what I love,” and people hungry to create art are already conceptualizing pages to contribute.  I’ve participated in several books now: spirituality, botanicals, and poetry, and have made some altered books, too.  This kind of folk art suits and nurtures me, an unschooled artist, though I long to have had an art education.

Guess I’ll keep making books, taking photographs, browsing art galleries, looking for powerful images wherever I can.  I know my vision is unique and sharing it with my little world is a privilege.

broken boy

Here are some things a five year old boy can’t do with one arm in a cast:

Get up from bed/sofa/floor independently

Button pants or shirts (looking at six weeks of elastic waistbands and t-shirts)

Buckle his seat belt

Play catch

Maintain his balance

Lift the cast with the broken arm–he has to use the other arm

Swim–worst of all.  It’s his favorite summer pastime.

And the things he CAN do?

Watch TV

Play video games

Toilet himself, thanks to the elastic waist pants

Run and play tag (onlookers fervently hoping he doesn’t FALL)

It’s going to be a long six weeks.  Did you know that you can distract a boy from his itchy casted arm by tickling the rest of him?  or with extensive back scratching?  Bless his heart.  Bless all of our hearts.

Here’s an update from July 21:   the arm is not aligned properly, so the doctor is going to put the boy to sleep on Friday and further reduce the fracture to help it heal better.  We are not looking forward to this.

radnor lake at last

it’s official

A lot has happened in four weeks:  I moved to another state, endured–see below–a lot to get licensed to drive in Tennessee, got very attractive new Radnor Lake car tags (though, come to think of it, I haven’t yet made it to the lake for a walk), scored a job with a stable company, a great team, and a fabuloso boss.   I’m registered to vote and have a library card.  I’ve gotten settled in new digs and become somewhat accustomed to being many miles from the nearest grocery store/Target/anything, really.  Can safely drive at night minus streetlights.  (Wish I could figure out how to get text wrapped around photos!  will have to ask Julia).  I check Rumer routinely for ticks.  You don’t want to know why.   I have NOT gotten used to the increase in numbers of roadkill here compared to Atlanta, and I shudder as I pass each and every one.  I’m pleased my car “flair” reflects Vermont, Atlanta, and Tennessee, as well as Carbon Leaf, the winning ’08 ticket, and the Long Trail.  Am utterly intimidated by Cool Springs, but still know my way to and around the Green Hills mall.  Franklin gets easier to navigate all the time.

Adorable grandson has been here for the past two weeks, to let his mom work extra and get ready for their move (day after tomorrow!  yippee!).  We notice him having a hard time as he adjusts to many changes in his life.  He’s never been away from his mom for this long, and he is really missing her.  He suddenly has a “sibling” of sorts, my housemate’s two-year old grandson, which pleases him not that much.  And he is not a country boy!  Not a big fan of bugs, going for walks, just looking at the sky or flowers or trees.  He does want to go fishing, and tomorrow, that’s my plan.  Give the boy a very positive day to round out the fortnight, one that does not include him mesmerized in front of a screen!   He’s also expressed an interest in riding a horse, and you know Mimi will be looking for a way to make that happen.