Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Flowers,Rainbows and Honoring Loved Ones
The windowboxes are still giving us pleasure as September gives way to October. I didn't have very showy boxes this year, but still enjoyed them anyway, even the stray tomato plants that grew from the compost soil.
Participated in Rec Park's annual Lung Cancer Awareness Walk/Run (helped make the pink T-shirts to honor the memory of a recent lung cancer victim, Wendy Howie, the daughter of my line dancing friend, Dot).
I've actually finished this drawing, since this photo was taken. I gave a copy to my folks, and it's already hanging near their front door. Eventually, I'll tint it. This picture is the way I like to remember my oldest brother, Jack, who died in 1989.
We went to Norwich after school yesterday and watched a rainbow grace the sky nearly all the way home. At times, saw portions of a double rainbow. Stopped to marvel at the complete arch as we neared Afton. It's always magical and memorable!
Mom and Dad came up today and we had a tea party next to the woodstove with freshly made brownies, Afterwards, i trimmed Mom's hair, an added service that many diners don't offer!
A few weeks ago went the wedding of a friend's daughter and just completed this small log cabin quilt for her (appropriate since her new last name is Plank). I always know a quilt is a success when someone in my family would like to keep it (in this case,my youngest son, and okay! okay! I confess- I'd like to keep it, too).
Friday, September 11, 2009
September Songs
Its September again (almost mid month by now)! Many mothers and others might be humming the happy back-to-school song. The first day of school is like my new year- I have more control over my own schedule again! I'm celebrating my new year by starting the first of my 2011 calendar drawings, which will all have water in common. (My 2010 calendar is done and features trains). The first drawing I'm doing for '11 may take awhile- it's been taped to the side of my dresser for years, and is of my oldest brother, Jack, fishing in the Gunnison River on a Colorado family vacation. I'm not sure what year it's from, but it doesn't really matter. He's in the river of time, doing one of the things he loved doing most in the world. It predates 1989, the year he died. He's wearing a windbreaker (are nylon jackets still called windbreakers?) that Mom and Dad brought us back from Hawaii as souvenirs. I showed Mom and Dad my start this morning and they recognized the place instantly. We have all been at that spot- I remember playing with a red balloon and some carnations with my niece, Kathy, on one of the rocks there, when Jack was trying to fish.
My youngest son, J, starts middle school this year and catches a ride to school with his Dad now. Thus my morning ritual of standing by the side of the road with one of my three children is over after 21 years of early morning fog, occasional rain showers, swirling leaves, snow pants, boots, windchill, small talk and waving to passing cars (if we waved to at least two people, we were assured of having a good day- my declaration) is over. I'm ready for the next chapter.
J and I enjoyed a reunion bluegrass show at the Bainbridge Town Hall Opry this past Saturday night when the Lockwood Family returned to the stage after a 25 year hiatus. We saw them perform back in the early '80s. The original brothers have grown and had families. Brother Tim was visiting from his home in Panama, so a reunion show was held and enjoyed by the audience. Mother, Mary, manned the bass as she did in the old days, as well as sister, Mary, and Jonathon's wife. The children all got to sing on stage with their parents- I especially like the fishing song written and performed by young Mary and her two kids.
My Mom always heads for the family piano in our dining room, and plays the same song her Dad used to play- Redbird, followed by the scales. It's part of her weekly ritual along with petting, Jazz, our cat, and having pie and cocoa at Henry's the diner next door.
And nothing puts a song in my heart like the image of sunlit flowers.
My youngest son, J, starts middle school this year and catches a ride to school with his Dad now. Thus my morning ritual of standing by the side of the road with one of my three children is over after 21 years of early morning fog, occasional rain showers, swirling leaves, snow pants, boots, windchill, small talk and waving to passing cars (if we waved to at least two people, we were assured of having a good day- my declaration) is over. I'm ready for the next chapter.
J and I enjoyed a reunion bluegrass show at the Bainbridge Town Hall Opry this past Saturday night when the Lockwood Family returned to the stage after a 25 year hiatus. We saw them perform back in the early '80s. The original brothers have grown and had families. Brother Tim was visiting from his home in Panama, so a reunion show was held and enjoyed by the audience. Mother, Mary, manned the bass as she did in the old days, as well as sister, Mary, and Jonathon's wife. The children all got to sing on stage with their parents- I especially like the fishing song written and performed by young Mary and her two kids.
My Mom always heads for the family piano in our dining room, and plays the same song her Dad used to play- Redbird, followed by the scales. It's part of her weekly ritual along with petting, Jazz, our cat, and having pie and cocoa at Henry's the diner next door.
And nothing puts a song in my heart like the image of sunlit flowers.
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