Category: ART

Here’s a couple of shots of my dream car — I saw it when we were out at St. Timothy’s on the first day of horseback riding camp. Even on a gray day, it looks like it can take you over the rainbow, doesn’t it? I love finding magic in our everyday world.

I love July 1st in the summertime. It is Canada Day, Jimmy’s birthday and my daughter’s birthday. When she was little she always referred to it as “July 1st in the summertime.” So, the day she was born 20 years ago, I woke up and figured, “yeah, this could be it.”

She was actually due on Bastille Day. Rather than waiting around, we all went strawberry picking that morning with her “Evelyn Gramma” and her big brother “Guy Guy” (her babyhood names for them). We always called Anthony the “little guy” when he was younger. He was 5 when she was born.

I was scheduled for my evening shift that afternoon, 3P to 11P. I was a unit secretary in a trauma unit in Burlington, Vermont. It was a Saturday and sometimes weekends could be quiet. I went to work and as my contractions were increasing, I popped upstairs to L & D on my dinner break. My nurse-midwife, Linda, was on call that night,checked me out, and said “yep, you’ll probably have your baby by the morning.” This was around 5:30P. It ended up being one of those quiet Saturday evenings when the work is done early, and it’s pretty laid back around the nurse’s station.

Around 7:30P, I went to the bathroom, and my water broke, soaking my ankle socks and the floor. Rita, our housekeeper mopped up after me as Lorraine, our nurse’s aide wheeled me off the unit in a wheelchair, straight up to L & D. The nurse manager, who was there for Molly’s birth was quite impressed and asked if I’d be interested in working on L & D when I returned from my leave? We were all getting quite the chuckle out the whole scene.

By the time I had arrived on the unit I was 9 CM dilated so things were happening fast. Jacqueline and Anthony arrived before Jason did. My twenty-something sister was Anthony’s support person, but at one point I looked over at her, and it looked like Anthony was doing the supporting. She looked like she was ready to pass out. Jason arrived a bit toasted (celebrating beforehand I suppose) about 15 minutes before Molly was born at 8:48PM. All 6 pounds 9 ounces of a wee baby girl whom I was not expecting — for some reason I just figured I’d have another boy.

But, nope, I had the baby sister her brother had wished for just the day before. Only I didn’t name her Mary Anthony like he had asked, but rather Molly Rose. Here she is today with her friend Brian on their way to Provincetown.

(No birth pictures — they didn’t turn out except for the couple her brother took with his little Kodak 110 Instamatic. I was devastated when the film came back undeveloped from our camera. It was a 35MM and the film hadn’t engaged, so we basically shot a blank roll. However, the adorable little guy in Mickey Mouse scrubs, and the just born baby girl are treasured visions I hope to always remember).

…because sometimes I learn this blogger stuff by accident. For example, I’ve been posting these weensy pictures, totally missing the small – medium – large choices in the upload photo box.

I discovered it yesterday as I was doing my post for another blog (it’s our business/life together kinda blog). I found the size choices doing that post, then when I did my post for this blog and uploaded my photo I thought, dang, why is my photo still so itsy-bitsy?

Now I know — hooray, hooray! It’s those little things sometimes that can make such a difference.

I’ve been using my new camera and loving it — and slowly editing my umpteen photos. Here’s a few more from Baltimore at the big ranch after some Honfest. Above is a picture of Leah and her friend playing with her new fisheye lens.

The top picture is the lovely barista from El Rancho Grande (she reminds me of Jennifer Garner) and the bottom picture is a mama Hon and her little Honette.

Two weeks ago today I left on a jet plane to visit with family in Baltimore. It was a glorious week and it’s been hard landing since — mostly because of gray days and a more scattered community here. I miss the smell of the honeysuckle of my childhood, the neighborhoods and blue skies with those cotton ball clouds.

I am slowly learning to get my template looking the way I want it. I wanted three columns on my Minima template and found a site with very simple instructions called, what else but Three Column Blogger.

Next up is learning to use the software that came with my camera to download all the pictures I took while I was away. Hoping to get to that in the next couple of days.

Where was I, you ask? Well, let’s just say I was charmed by the Charm City. Another hint is one of the links in my sidebar if you aren’t familiar with where the Charm City is.

Sometimes I am a talkative silver saxophone with tons of sound in a bright room playing jazz all around.

Sometimes I am a fast wind whipping by fast shooting across the sky making things blow away.

Sometimes I am a sad weeping willow tree swaying in the breeze my tears made of petals.

Sometimes I am an oil pastel bursting with all the colors in the universe.

– poem by my niece Hannah, 9

Picture Hope: Gathering Images for the Journey from LittlePurpleCow Productions on Vimeo.

Red Molly is playing up the street from me Saturday, with Tripping Lily opening for them. Just joined a street team. I’ve got to start learning how to use my IPOD.

Here’s Tripping Lily:

And here’s Red Molly:

When I moved back to the cape 11 years ago, my sister had given me the book Simple Abundance. I read it cover to cover that year. There were some days I rolled my eyes at the trite words and other days the writing rang true. I don’t think that’s peculiar to this particular writer, I think it is something all of us writers do at one time or another, and with a book of that magnitude, how can some entries not fall short? And so it is with blogging, too.

Every once in a while, I return to Simple Abundance, as I have again lately. I still roll my eyes at some of the entries, and I still find entries that are powerful.

Yesterday’s was one of those for me. It was about asking. You know like Matthew wrote, “Ask, and it shall be given to you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.” Sarah had me there and then further on she had another fabulous quote, followed by her writing:

“‘It is a long time since I have asked heaven for anything, but still my arms will not come down,’ Spanish poet Antonio Porchia mused, giving voice to the profound paradox of asking. We want, we need, we desire, we yearn, but we don’t ask. Still our arms stay up in the air. Longings cross our mind, but we don’t really commit ourselves. We don’t lay it on the line. We don’t ask because we’re afraid somebody will say ‘no.'”
~Sarah Ban Breathnach

I’m ready to put my arms down and raise my voice instead.

Ad I Saw:

Mother’s Helper:Female: Private Living Space in my home with Cable and WiFi. $120.00 per week OR free in exchange for helping with my family (for 12 hours)… Driving, light cooking, babysitting (supervising) my two children ages 11 and 15. Must have car. Can work more hours then agreed upon for hourly wage. I can work my schedule around your “real” job. I am looking for a responsible but fun, family-oriented role model for my kids who are at a very formidable age. Sorry, no partying in my house. Please plan to socialize elsewhere.

My response:

Hello there,

I am very interested in your position for a mother’s helper for your 11 and 15 year old. My son is now 25, on his own and a musician. My daughter is almost 20, very responsible and returning to UMass for her junior year in September.

Years ago I was looking for the very same person you are looking for now — another me — I was raising my children on my own and recognized that those in-between ages are much more challenging than the early childhood stages. There were a couple of occasions that we got a taste of what it would be like to be in a household with other loving caregivers — it was a joy. I truly believe that it does take a village to raise a child and it was difficult trying to create the scenario then, but it was something I always dreamed of. I would love to be that person I needed then for someone else now.

Sincerely,

Patricia A. Hurley

Attached is my resume. Please let me know if you don’t receive it. Thank you so much.

Her response:

Patricia,
Wow! Your letter made me cry! It was beautiful! I would love to meet you. I am sorry to say that I am running out the door to pick up my daughter from gymnastics, so I can not respond as I would like to. It appears to me that you are looking for a mother’s helper position and not a place to live… Could you just clarify that? I will give you a call if you would like either tonight after 8 or tomorrow.
Looking forward to talking with you!
Nelly
P.S. Do I have your phone number?

Some things just make you feel good, you know?