F-Stop

I know that there is sunshine and all manner of flora and fauna outside this summer. I know that United States and international politics have not evaporated. I know that the environment and the economy are both still struggling. And it’s not that I don’t care. It’s just that our world has shrunk. The lens we focus to view life through has sharpened and narrowed.

Here’s what we see through that lens:

: : Today marks six weeks post surgery for me - just two more to go.
: : Carrie is doing quite well. She and her husband Al are still working together beautifully as they care for each other and their new daughter.
: : Isabella is one tough little chick. She is sweet and mellow and feisty all rolled up together. She has completely captivated us all. In her thirteen days there has been only one substantial scare - one in thirteen days! Amazing, really, for a child born so soon; so small. (Yes I am knocking on wood.)
: : My sister Gail (Grandma or perhaps GG) heads back to Georgia tomorrow - not the direction she wishes to head right now.
: : My tooth broke and required a trip to our good dentist and (cha-ching) another crown.
: : iPhoto ‘09 and Photoshop CS5 and I are on very good and close terms. I take huge numbers of photos of Isabella and the family and spend hours (which feel like minutes) poring over them; trying to find the best ones.
: : The Boston Red Sox are 69 and 52 on the season - that’s 69 wins, 52 losses, which is incredibly good considering the dugout and bull pen look more like hospital wards.

Happily, most of what is listed above is now good and positive. Some of it has been stressful and challenging. But beyond normal daily routines, we have allowed little else in. I need to correct that last statement. We have not only allowed but welcomed your encouragement and good wishes for Isabella and her parents. Thank you!

One Day At A Time

This has been an unusual few months. As my sister-in-law put it, we got “up close and personal with the health care system” this summer. (Yes, she is the mistress of the understatement!) I’m at the five and a half week mark in my post-surgery recuperation - less than three weeks to go. Our niece Carrie’s condition improved enough so that she has been discharged from the hospital. And our beautiful grandniece Isabella continues to make progress.

In her first week Isabella gained a little weight and added an inch to her length. When we spend time with her, despite her petite size, we have absolute confidence she will grow and thrive and have a long healthy, happy life. It is only when the phone rings with updates or we look up a symptom or procedure on the internet, that we feel a little flush of fear wash over us.

The risks are never far from our minds. Yet we try to stay focused on the all that is good; all that is working. We remain grateful and try to remember to be here now.

Knock Wood Before Reading

In the short six days that Isabella Rose has been with us she has done remarkably well. In fact, her doctors have said that she is doing better than many other babies born at 26 weeks. Every afternoon at 4:02 pm her Mom and Dad sing Happy Birthday to her. We are now in day seven. Tomorrow afternoon will be her one week birthday. We are amazed and grateful and hopeful.

Carrie, Isabella’s Mom, has been riding a bit of a medical roller coaster. She has been making steady progress, looks wonderful and is in good spirits, but she is still in the hospital. However, when you calculate what her body went through with the Severe Preeclampsia and the caesarian section we are left amazed and grateful and far more than hopeful.

Al, Carrie’s husband and Isabella’s Dad has been wonderful. We’ve loved Al since long before he and Carrie married. We always knew he was a good guy. But this medical crisis has only served to bring out the best in him. Watching the easy, gentle and loving way he and Carrie have between them is another cause for gratitude and yes, joy.

Thank you for your good wishes and support. It means so much to all of us.

Day Three Begins

Today was another positive day for Carrie and Bambalina. Carrie felt much stronger and better than yesterday. Bambalina had a good day too and met her Great Grandmother “Nana”. She also held her Daddy’s finger!

The other big news is that the name Bambalina will now be retired and become part of our beautiful grandniece’s birth story. As of today, her name is officially Isabella Rose! Miss Isabella is only 52 hours old. Yet she has nestled right into our hearts and filled us with wonder.

Updates

: : Carrie and Bambalina continue to hold their own and make progress despite the unexpected dangers of the last few days. We are so grateful for the excellent care and attention they are both receiving.

: : The CEO of the hospital I stayed at a month ago replied to my letter which was a happy surprise. Best of all, my letter was being forwarded to nine additional department heads whose areas of responsibility I had commented on.

Early Arrival

Miss “Bambalina” arrived very, very early. Late this afternoon, our niece Carrie delivered her daughter who weighed in at just one pound, six ounces. Carrie is doing well after the wrenching fight with Severe Preeclampsia and amazingly Bambalina is doing well too! Al and Carrie have yet to settle on a name so we get to call the newest member of the family Bambalina for just a little while longer.

Chuck and I were lucky enough to see Carrie briefly and spend a great amount of time with Al and Bambalina in the NICU. We know that after only 26 weeks traveling with her mother, she will be taking it ounce by ounce and day by day. But she and Carrie are receiving the best possible, compassionate, highly skilled care. And I have to tell you that the more time we spent with Bambalina, the more she struck us as relaxed and sweet as well as strong and tough.

I Took Names

Jeff of Wormtown Taxi has been dealing with cancer along with other health challenges. Reading his descriptions of his current hospitalization sent chills through me. He uses words like “torture”, “sadists”, “maximum annoyance” and characterizes the purpose as [for patients to be] “driven down into complete submission”.

It sounds absolutely dreadful and I sincerely hope that Jeff is back home with Kathy very, very soon.

But it did remind me that I wanted to mention another important part of my drastically different recent hospitalization: I took names.

Starting with my CT Scan weeks before my surgery, I began making note of the names of the kind, friendly, well intentioned people who worked with me. Three shifts a day, the names of my nurses and aides were written for me on the dry-erase white board in my hospital room. With Chuck as my nearly constant companion, he jotted their names down for me, along with the volunteers and anyone who contributed to my care. A few weeks after I got home I drafted a letter. I worked on it over several days. Eventually a three page missive - heck, if it were put to music it would be more accurately described as a paean - went into the mail.

I wanted to be certain that the hospital CEO, the director of nursing and others knew exactly what they had done right. From the spectacular nurses to the spotless facilities to the room service style food to the pre-op nurse who managed to get my IV started deftly and painlessly (usually an enormous challenge) - I wanted to give them details. At first blush three pages may sound excessive. But it needed to be done. Obviously the hospital already has a patient centered culture, but it can’t hurt to hear from someone who noticed and appreciated all the details - big and small - which made my hospital stay such a superb experience.

What Worked

I was lucky. I knew I would be hospitalized and having surgery several weeks ahead of time. As a result, I was able to prepare and figure out what I needed. Besides finding a brilliant, compassionate surgeon, here’s what worked for me:

: : I purchased and read quite a bit of Peggy Huddleston’s book “Prepare for Surgery, Healer Faster”. I did not follow all of her advice, but I found it very useful. I did listen to her companion relaxation CD - a lot - (which I loaded onto our iPod) and found that to be tremendously helpful throughout the entire process. I listened to it when I felt my anxiety begin to rise in the weeks leading up to the surgery and in the hospital at night when I couldn’t sleep. (Both are available on Amazon here and here.)

: : I created a folder in iPhoto called “Favorite/Special People & Places”. I dragged in photos of family, friends, Bar Harbor, Acadia, favorite digi-scrap layouts and so on. I loaded that folder onto our iPod. Many, many times I flipped through those photos, each of which made me smile. Connecting visually with the people, places, memories and moments I love made me feel good and calmed me down. It also helped me think ahead to what I would like to do after my recovery.

: : I reached out to the people in my life who I could count on. Chuck was naturally and rightfully at the top of that list! I knew I needed kind, well intentioned and funny people pulling for me, each in their own unique way. I sent out the call and the responses bowled both of us over.

: : As soon as I went into surgery, Chuck began sending group e-mail updates to those close friends and family members who were part of my “team”. That kept them informed and their responses were tangible support to Chuck while he waited. When I was out of the recovery room, Chuck continued the updates and the responses cheered us both immensely.

: : I remembered to be me. I made sure to engage positively and with good humor with every person I came in contact with. I wanted to be sure that I would not be just another number. I wanted to connect with the people responsible for my care. Coping with life’s challenges through laughter is one of my favorite strategies. Kidding around with my surgical nurse on the way to the operating room; joking with my nurses over profoundly embarrassing personal moments - that guaranteed I was not a number! I was Lee.

: : I walked. Before surgery back in 1987, my sister Gail advised me to get up and walk as soon as I was able. It was good advice then and now has become the gold standard for post-op recovery advice. This time I would emerge from my room, wrapped in my robe, one hand on my IV pole, the other on my incision and slowly but surely travel up and down the hallway. I did so at any hour of the day or night, always encouraged by the nurses and Chuck.

I was lucky.
I remain filled with gratitude for extremely good health care, fine health insurance, excellent nurses, generous friends and family and my understanding husband.

Salmon & Potatoes

After my two week post-op appointment (see "Returning..." below), Chuck took me to a Trader Joe’s. My energy was still very thin, but we needed to stock up on some easy meal options. I had seen the TJ’s pre-cooked salmon in the refrigerated section for ages, but had never tried it. This time I did and what follows turned out to be delicious - and blessedly uncomplicated.

Lee’s Salmon & Potatoes

Trader Joe’s pre-cooked salmon - comes refrigerated, having already been steamed with just salt and lemon (Substitute leftover poached salmon)
Yukon Gold potatoes, 3/4” dice
Onions, coarsely chopped

Olive oil
Butter
White Wine
Salt
Pepper
Onion Powder
Garlic Powder
Dill

Light Sour Cream
Cain’s Mayonnaise
Lemon Juice
Trader Joe’s Mustard Aioli Sauce (Substitute a little mustard & some garlic to taste)

Lemon wedges

Toss the cubed potatoes in olive oil, salt, pepper, onion powder, garlic powder and dill. Make sure they are well coated. Spread on a parchment paper covered baking tray and (convection) bake at about 400F until tender inside and crispy and golden brown outside.

Meanwhile, saute the onions in olive oil, butter, water and white wine.Season to taste with salt, pepper, garlic powder and dill. Remove from heat when they are golden and soft - and most liquid has evaporated.

In a small bowl mix two parts light sour cream to one part mayonnaise, a splash of lemon juice, a heaping teaspoon of Trader Joe’s Mustard Aioli sauce, salt, pepper, onion powder, garlic powder and dill.

On a plate, place a layer of the hot roasted potatoes.
Spoon some warm sauteed onions over the potatoes.
Place the cold salmon chunks on top.
Add a squeeze of lemon.
Drizzle the sauce over all and enjoy!

Serve with a tossed salad or other veggie.


Note:
We had leftovers. So I created this variation for brunch:

I placed some cherry tomatoes, sliced in half, cut side down in two gratin dishes. I spooned the leftover onions over the tomatoes and popped the dishes in a hot (400F) convection oven. When they were sizzling, I added the leftover potatoes on top.

Meanwhile, I poached two eggs.

When the potatoes were heated through, I removed the gratin dishes from the oven. I placed the leftover cold salmon chunks on top of the potato layer and slid a poached egg on top. I drizzled the last of the cold sauce over all.

Both versions were very satisfying. The first was cool enough for a summer evening. While the second, in the gratin dishes, held the heat and would be good any season of the year.

Returning...

I put Pink Granite on hiatus back on July 6th. The next day I had surgery. I’m happy to report that everything went better than my surgeon had anticipated. The care I received from my surgeon, as well as the nursing staff at the hospital was wonderful. And Chuck has been taking excellent care of me ever since. This coming Wednesday will mark the halfway point in my healing and recovery time. I’ve been back on Twitter for a while now - 140 characters was far less intimidating than a full blog post! But it feels very good to be back here.

Hiatus

Thank you for stopping by.
Pink Granite will be on hiatus for a bit, due to a medical situation.
I look forward to being back in the swing of things very soon.
;o)
- Lee

Peaceful

The heat wave has brought out the best in the garden, even if things are blooming a little early. The hostas have all thrown their flower spikes. Those trumpet shaped lavender flowers have already attracted hummingbirds. However, this photographer has yet to be in the right place at the right time, with camera in hand, to photograph said hummingbirds!

Happy Fourth of July!

Today’s Independence Day party at Carrie and Al’s was very much like last year’s celebration had been: excellent! Though I believe today was quite a bit warmer - 94F / 34C! The food was great; the people cheerful; the babies and kids (too numerous to count) were all adorable. And we got to meet Murphy! He has ridiculously soft fur and is even cuter in person.

Unfortunately the heat got the better of us and we decided to leave before the fireworks shows began all along Narragansett Bay. But, based on last year, we bet they looked something like this:

That's a waxing gibbous moon right in the heart of the fireworks and the water’s edge below (7/4/2009)

Thanks Al and Carrie!
We’ll be there for July 4, 2011
- and so will Bambalina! ;o)

What’s In A Name?

It looks like Morning Glory, but according to a knowledgeable gardening friend, it’s actually Bindweed. I don’t know. They’re both part of the genus Convolvulus. But one is prized and the other is a weed. It’s not bothering anything. It’s just hanging out in the wilder brush behind the Day Lilies; looking pretty and doing its pretty plant thing. I like it. So say hello to the lovely Convolvulus - a rose by any other name...

Bella Luna

As we were leaving the house early this evening, I was startled when this Luna Moth (Actias luna) fluttered past me and landed on the driveway in our dooryard. Chuck quickly handed the camera to me and I snapped a few photos. When we returned home several hours later, the Luna was up on the barn door, resting in the spill of light from the old fixture.

A Place To Start

Ever since the BP oil disaster began in the Gulf of Mexico, I have felt overwhelmed by it. The can-do, girly-girl solution side of me wanted to rig up something involving a giant funnel, a long hose, some duct tape and wrestle the gushing catastrophe into submission. As days turned into weeks I began to despair. I still have no idea when the engineers and scientists will either control and capture the gushing oil or somehow stop it from flowing into the Gulf and damaging or destroying everything in its ever enlarging sprawl.

In the meantime - and I fear for a long, long time to come - people and animals and the Earth need help. Charity Navigator has assembled a list of where we can “Make A Donation To Help Threatened Wildlife, Impacted Ecosystems And Damaged Economies”.
It’s a place to start.

To Remember & Honor

This New York Times article reports on the efforts of the Negro Leagues Grave Marker Project. Over the last six years, the group has provided nineteen headstones for Negro League players with unmarked graves.

________________________________________________

When my father died in 1988, he was buried in the same plot with his parents and two brothers, one of whom had died in infancy. Seeing the headstone was painful for me because it was inscribed simply with our family surname and my grandfather’s full name. It frustrated and even angered me that there were no other names and no dates at all, to acknowledge and remember who was buried there.

From a genealogical perspective, the lack of information on the stone was also hard to accept. Many times Chuck and I have gone to a cemetery and been able to add more information to the family tree and even detail to family stories. But it was through my genealogical research, my imagination and my poetry that I was finally able to make peace with my Dad’s headstone and his father’s decision, made nearly a century before.


In Rhode Island, 1910

He was a young man
younger than I am now
Married to a woman
who was not warm and funny
which in courtship
somehow suited him
and suited her
He knew her past
and she his
But back then
self help
was an odd grammatical construction
for what one did to live a life
not what one was told to do
to live it well

So when their first child
a son –
the special pride and blessing
of any man
to have his first born be a son –
when that child died
a babe in arms
a piece of him died too
A piece of her as well
But as the man
he had the job
of going to the bank
and riding to the churchyard
and picking out a plot
and then a stone

He was not a man of means
though he had hope
He chose a smooth flat marker
the color of lead
the weight of his heart
one to lie firmly in the ground
It was all he could afford
but it was sensible as well

And what to put upon the stone?
He stood there
looking at the slab of granite
polished high
with flowers swirling in the corners
in the center
the Sacred Heart strangled with thorns
thorns he felt in his heart
Saw the stone was bigger
than his son had been
thought about how the plot
was fit for four
and of his grieving bride at home
wondered if the next child -
for surely there would be another –
would survive
and said, no dates
just “SMITH - John L. Smith Family” *
and wondering too
how swiftly would the plot be filled
he headed home
to a house thick with mourners
and muffled tears


- LMR/Pink Granite

*Name edited

Air

The air changed this evening.
Cool and dry came in steadily on a light breeze.
It was not a moment too soon.
I could feel myself reviving.
Until that feeling of relief washed over me, I hadn’t been fully conscious of how draining the heat and humidity had been.
It’s good to break out of this August-like weather, even if it is only for a few days.
Those few days will be enough.
The next heatwave will bring fireworks in the air.
That’s not a euphemism for a thunderstorm.
On Sunday there will be fireworks over the ocean, shared with family and friends.
That will be more than enough.

Shape Shifter

I was disappointed that Photoshop CS5 came with only a handful of shapes. I don’t use them often, but sometimes they are exactly what I need. I knew my old copy of Photoshop Elements had a ton of shapes. Chuck asked if I could copy them. Hmm... I tried copying them clipboard style, but no luck. Then I decided to wander around in Finder. I went into my Applications folder, found Photoshop Elements > Presets > Custom Shapes. Back in CS5, I clicked the Custom Shape Tool > Shape. Then from that flyout menu I chose Load Shapes and selected the Custom Shapes Folder > All Elements Shapes from Elements. Easy Peasy. Thanks to Chuck asking the right question, I am a happy camper once again.

A few weeks ago I posted a layout I had made in Elements of Kate and Phil’s puppy Murphy. I whipped it up it while I was between Photoshop CS3 & CS5. So once I was up and running on CS5 I tweaked it. As I said to Kate, it’s easy at first glance to think there’s no change. But aesthetically I was more satisfied with the redo. It includes the use of a little pawprint shape. I also made an enhanced background paper. I used a photo of some grass and reeds collapsed in late autumn, with the Blending Mode “Overlay” above the solid yellow layer (playing with the opacity) to create the effect.

Here are the original and revised versions:



Photographs courtesy of KRL. Layout by LMR/Pink Granite. Fonts: Hypatia Sans Pro and Jayne Print. Software: Apple iPhoto ’09, Adobe Photoshop Elements for Mac & Adobe Photoshop CS5 for Mac.

Drowsy...

We’re just home from seeing “The Drowsy Chaperone” at the Ogunquit Playhouse up in Maine. Carson Kressley was terrific. As was a member of our extended family! But we are, well, drowsy.

Night all...

I Said No, No, No

O.K. So it’s not that I need rehab; probably not even an intervention. But I have been digi-scrapping up a storm. I was doing some cleaning and organizing on my computer, which included going through iPhoto and trashing the blurrys and the duplicates. When I took a look through my Layout Folder, I found lots of events had never made it from photos into layouts. Well, clearly that was far more fun important than paying bills or folding laundry. So off I went. And it didn’t help one bit that Kate sent another photo of Murphy either!



Photograph courtesy of KRL. Layout by LMR/Pink Granite. Fonts: Hans Hand. Software: Apple iPhoto ’09 & Adobe Photoshop CS5 for Mac.

Two Degrees of Separation

Prince Albert of Monaco, at age 52, has, at long last, become engaged to a beautiful woman from South Africa: Charlene Wittstock, age 32, a former Olympian.

My Dad wanted me to drop my then boyfriend and marry Prince Albert of Monaco. He told me so back in the late 1970s - right in front of said boyfriend! It was irrelevant that I had never actually met Prince Albert. The fact that a very good friend of mine was not only attending the same college as the Prince, but living in the same building, was all Dad needed to know. He was immediately ready to marry off his youngest daughter into a style to which she could easily become accustomed!

Despite my Dad’s enthusiasm and determination, I never did meet Prince Albert. But because of my hopelessly romantic heart, when I heard the news of his engagement, I felt happy for him and wished them both well. I found my soulmate. Hopefully, the Prince has finally found his.

Neither Mutiny Nor Michael

Over on Advanced Style, they have a pictorial post on stylish folks, of certain age, with canes. In recent years we’ve had some experience with canes and walking sticks. Two of our elderly relatives have needed canes. Neither of them was interested in anything too “loud” or too “flashy”. Believe me, we tried! But the goal for each of them was to be as normal as possible, to not stand out; to not shine a bright, hot light on age related needs. As someone who is inherently shy and has magically worn a cloak of invisibility for years, I absolutely get it. But as someone who also has a penchant for snazzy, eye-catching, often vintage purses; who always has a folding fan with her and is never, ever afraid to use it and who loves wearing bright striped socks - well I really don’t get it.

When Chuck and I recently chose hiking sticks we looked at function, strength, lightness, feel in the hand and yes, appearance. We chose a couple of sassafras ones. They were frankly inexpensive. But we wanted to try them out when we walk on dirt country roads, the carriage trails in Acadia, the rocks at Schoodic - pretty much anywhere that isn’t paved or a high school track. We wanted to learn to use them efficiently and effectively. We wanted to become comfortable with using something for pleasure and additional ease. But we also wanted to be prepared to extend our options and maintain our agility and mobility as the years roll by.

Yes, we’re young - well, we think we are! But our ERs remind us that, if we’re lucky, the road is long and hardly ever gun barrel straight. So we’ll start with a couple of sassafras beauties. However, should circumstances change, we’ve already got our eyes on something like these dazzlers. Fair warning to the generation behind us: Uncle Chuck and Auntie Lee will not be going gently (or dowdily) into that good night!

Health

: : Chuck is definitely feeling better today. Kind man that he is, he is giving me and my chicken soup most of the credit! My money’s on tincture of time and the chicken soup, but it is very nice to feel appreciated!

: : We also got some optimistic news. The cancer treatment for a loved one will be far less invasive and onerous than we had feared. The Radiology Oncologist will be using CyberKnife treatment. Once again medicine collides with science fiction.

: : You may remember my disappointment and dissatisfaction with my primary care physician. Well, we took the bull by the horns today and Chuck tried to get me transferred over to his doctor. No such luck, but his doc, who knew my beloved retired doc and knows my current PCP, did make a recommendation for me. It looks like the paperwork transition will go smoothly. Fingers crossed my new PCP and I will be a good fit, ‘cuz heaven knows I would like this settled.

Fathers Day

There are so many different sorts of fathers. Probably as many as there are men. Chuck and I both got really good Dads. Some folks get dealt a very different hand: here’s one and another.

So today, here’s to all the good dads, stepfathers, grandfathers and great-grandfathers. And here’s to all the godfathers, big brothers, uncles and fine men who serve as father figures. Happy Father’s Day to you all - and thank you!

All Will Be Well

Chuck has been reading, resting, watching a little television, drinking plenty of fluids and generally trying to get better. He is improving, but the fever is still not gone. Once he gets past the acetaminophen window, the symptom returns. Thankfully his temperature has not gotten as high as it was yesterday. I’ve been keeping him company and digi-scrapping on the laptop.

One of the songs that has been going through my mind is “All Will Be Well”. It’s by a group out of Nashville called The Gabe Dixon Band. Soon I found myself taking a sunrise photo of Frenchman Bay up in Maine and including part of the chorus from “All Will Be Well”, because, well, it really will.



Photograph & Layout by LMR/Pink Granite. Lyrics quoted from The Gabe Dixon Band. Font: Hans Hand. Software: Apple iPhoto ’09 & Adobe Photoshop CS5 for Mac.

Where’s The Off Switch?

You know those ball machines that serve tennis balls or pitch baseballs to you at a steady clip? You remember the “Lucy and Ethel work in the chocolate factory” episode when the conveyor belt speeds up and overwhelms them? Life came at us a little like that this week. Some of it was very troubling: a relative with a serious health diagnosis. Some of it was curious: Chuck with a fever and no other specific symptoms. Some of it was frustrating: the domino effect on our family when Chuck’s fever meant we had to cancel a visit to Rhode Island. Some of it was just plain stupidly-small: our e-mail service changed formats and left us feeling like all the easy, useful features had been stripped in the name of “new & improved”.

You get the idea. The sense that every time the phone rang a new challenge was being delivered - major, minor and every size in between. I know that many things will resolve themselves on their own or yield to some attention, effort and maybe a little homemade chicken soup. Worrying won’t really help - but it does occupy one’s time and energy. Tincture of time is frequently effective - but requires patience. Perhaps a good night’s sleep will leave us better prepared for whatever life sends our way tomorrow. Hey, including being able to truly enjoy some good news - - - O.K. Universe?

Need some inspiration? Click here.

Flatbread

If you’re ever in Portland, Maine give Flatbread Company a whirl for lunch or dinner. They’re on Commercial Street, right on the water and convenient to a parking garage and the ferry terminal. When we went on our rocking chair adventure to Freeport last month, we stopped there for dinner on our way home. Yum! They have a simple menu: salads, flatbread pizzas and a couple of desserts. Oh but they do it all quite well. Their philosophy is focused on “local organic produce, free range and clean meats. All of our major ingredients are made in house and cooked in a wood fired cauldron or in a hand built wood burning earthen oven.” We were seated near that oven and enjoyed a fascinating, well choreographed floor show as the food traveled from the open kitchen, into the huge oven and off to the diners.

We started with their mesclun salad - mine with goat cheese, Chuck’s with blue. The house vinaigrette was surprisingly mild, but the cheese added some zip, making it all work and play well together. Our flatbread included the homemade pepperoni which was meaty, classically flavored and had a nice spicy kick to it. The crust was thin, well cooked, but with just the right amount of chewiness and yeasty goodness about. We both agreed the pizza had “good bones”.

Our waiter wrapped up our leftover pizza in foil in the shape of a swan, but also told us about the desserts. We had already seen a few of the brownies being warmed in the pizza oven prior to service, so sharing the brownie sundae was an easy sell. It was scrumptious - warm, fudgey on the inside and a teensy bit crunchy on the edges. Topped with vanilla ice cream and resting on a puddle of chocolate sauce - yeah - you wouldn’t have liked it! Nope, not one bit.

For folks here in Massachusetts they have restaurants in Amesbury, Bedford and a new one to open soon in Somerville. Plus there are two locations in New Hampshire, one in Connecticut and one in Hawaii. That last one is a bit of a schlep, but I hear Maui is awfully pretty!

Service & Sweet

This may be slightly premature, but it seems entirely possible that LaCie rocks!

One of the three ways to connect my 2008 LaCie Rugged external hard drive (EHD) to my laptop went kaput. At first I thought it was the cable. But a quick side trip yesterday to an Apple store, determined that it was the “outlet” or something internal to the EHD. Ted said “It’s still in warranty. Call LaCie. They’ll treat you right.” I called. They did - treat me right that is. I’m wrapping it up and shipping it off to them tomorrow. They will either repair it or send me a new one. Sweet!

Now, because many of you just glazed over as soon as you got to “external hard drive” I bring you another photo of another four legged member of our family, Cassie:

Lust In My Heart

I held and touched an iPad today.

Oh my, my, my! It is an extremely good thing that neither Chuck nor I are early adopters of technology!

And if I need help keeping my lust under control, I will read this - again!

Follow Up

On Friday, I posted about Michael Pakaluk’s Op-Ed piece in The Pilot. Today, Dianne Williamson, of the Worcester Telegram and Gazette, provides additional history and information on the man and his message.

Three Big Things

Our niece Kate is celebrating her birthday tomorrow.
Our niece Emily graduated from college today.
Our friend Philip will become an Eagle Scout tomorrow.

Congratulations all around!!!

Hatred, Hypocrisy & The Company You Keep

My niece Kate sent me a link to a piece in the “The Pilot”, Boston’s Roman Catholic newspaper. The op-ed by Michael Pakaluk was disturbing to Kate and to me. His topic? “Children in the custody of same-sex couples in parochial schools”. Why the odd turn of phrase “in the custody of”? Mr. Pakaluk states that “one cannot say, “children of” same sex couples”. Right off the bat it is clear where he stands. Using a twisted homophobic logic he makes his case that children of same sex couples should not be enrolled in parochial schools, especially at the elementary level. He believes it is too strong an endorsement of the gay “lifestyle” and will inevitably lead to “scandal”. Beyond his self righteous, anti-gay positions he is also a clear opponent of the reforms of Vatican II. Apparently bringing the Roman Catholic Church out of the Dark Ages - literally and figuratively - was beyond the pale for Mr. Pakaluk.

In her e-mail, Kate drew my attention to Mr. Pakaluk’s credentials, including a stint as a Visiting Scholar at Harvard University. But what got me curious was his current employment with the “Institute for the Psychological Sciences” Turns out The Institute is is part of the "Legion of Christ". Ring a bell? Yes, that’s the same Legion of Christ founded by "Father" Marcial Maciel. Yes, that’s the same one who molested children and seminarians and was involved in both homosexual and heterosexual relationships while he was a priest. This past May, the Vatican released a communique condemning Maciel. Pope Benedict XVI also ordered an investigation into the Legionaries and its lay affiliate Regnum Christi.

That is “scandal” in both the religious and secular sense of the word indeed Mr. Pakaluk.

Next News

I mentioned yesterday that we were looking forward to good news this afternoon. Well, the phone call came from Carrie letting us know that she’s expecting a baby girl! As I said to Carrie, we would have been just as happy to hear it was a baby boy. Mostly we just want Carrie, the baby and Al to all be healthy and happy. But it is awfully cool to know the gender ahead of time. Carrie’s also excited to be able to get the pronoun right - no more “he/she/it/the baby”.

Wisely, Carrie and Al are not throwing the baby’s name out for discussion. It’s too easy to hear a name and say to the expectant parents: “Oh, I knew a Engelbert and he was horrid!” But I attach a name to everyone and everything. So I was trying to think of what to call the baby between now and when she is born. Because both Al and Carrie are of Italian descent, I wanted to choose a girl’s name which was affectionate and sweet, but still be certain there was no way they would consider the name. I found “Bambalina”! It’s a variation or even further diminutive of Bambina which, of course, means little girl in Italian.

So now she has a transitional name from her Auntie Lee and her Uncle Chuck. Which is probably a pretty good introduction to a couple of odd ducks who love her to pieces already!

Ups & Downs

I spent an obscene amount of time on the telephone today; much of it on hold; much of it with technical support. As I said afterwards: “That’s four and a half hours I’ll never get back!” I am crispy, burnt toast, fried.

On the up side:
- A resolution of the tech problem is on the horizon.
- Murphy’s Mom is happy to have her pup making us smile.
- Morgan’s birthday celebration is going swimmingly.
- My Mom’s handyman is wrapping up the latest round of projects.
- The weather has been cooler, sunnier and breezier.
- It was so cool, I made mashed sweet and Yukon Gold potatoes to go with the Haddock and salad tonight.
- The cats did not get into a fur-flying fight today.
- I’ve been working with some photos which are making me smile.
- We are looking forward to good news tomorrow afternoon.

Hope your day was ALL good - and that tomorrow holds more of the same!

Murphy!

Our niece Kate and her husband Phil have welcomed the cutest Soft-Coated Wheaten Terrier into their lives. His name is Murphy and he is our “grand-nephew”! We haven’t met him in person yet, but Kate sent us these photographs. She also generously gave me the green light to post them here. I can’t wait to pet him!!!

Photographs courtesy of KRL. Layout by LMR/Pink Granite. Fonts: Hypatia Sans Pro and Jayne Print. Software: Apple iPhoto ’09 & Adobe Photoshop Elements for Mac.

Change In Strategy

I was working in Photoshop CS3 today and chose a new way to work on transforming a photograph. Normally I open a photo and it automatically becomes my Background Layer. Then I Duplicate the background layer and work on that new second layer. As I go along, I may duplicate that original layer multiple times and change the Blending Mode for various layers. Whatever I am doing I keep track of it all in a Rich Text Format Document (“RTF As Breadcrumbs”).

Today, I wanted to try a variety of Filters. Usually just one filter stands out quite quickly as being the best. But today I found four which intrigued me. After toggling back and forth in the Filter area - a very slow process - I decided to settle on one. Then I went back to my original background layer, duplicated it and went back into the Filter menu, choosing a different filter. In all, I had my original photo plus four additional copies, each copy with its own filter applied (and named accordingly in the Layer Menu). I kept all the blending modes as normal. Then it became a simple process of turning the Layer Visibility on or off for each layer in turn, so that I could make a quick “better or worse” decision about which version I liked best. Normally I would have made separate files for each filter version. This was far more efficient, although it did create a very large file. But I just worked with it housed on my LaCie EHD which kept the file size from becoming an issue.

I do something similar to this when I create a greeting card from a photograph. I may repurpose it from a birthday card to an anniversary or a sympathy and so on. If I am including text on the cover, I create multiple Text Layers and change their visibility to allow the correct one to be visible for printing.

After all that and all that, I still need to make my final decision on today’s project. But it will be tomorrow at the very latest, because someone near and dear to us has a birthday coming up quite soon!

What Was Apple Thinking?

Read Renee Ghert-Zand’s “A Troubling Forecast”.

Weather

Heat +
Rain +
Humidity +
Dew Point pushing up into the oppressive range

Other than that, it was a perfectly fine day.
Really.
It was just the swampy weather that totally sucked!

My Neighbor

Back in 2007 I was Blog Logged by Worcester Magazine. It was a really big deal for me. In that same issue, a fellow named Jeff, from a blog called Wormtown Taxi was also Blog Logged. So I stopped by Jeff’s blog, introduced myself as his “neighbor” from Blog Log and was hooked. The dude is funny, interesting, feisty, honest and one of the most prolific bloggers around. I generally post once a day. Jeff posts once an hour. Well, I exaggerate slightly. But he posts a lot. Jeff (most deservedly) won the 2010 Best Local Blog Award from Worcester Magazine.

Today, Jeff told us he has been diagnosed with stage IV melanoma. He and his wife Kathy have been dealt a ferociously hard blow. Jeff will begin chemotherapy in a few days.

I’d like to echo what the gal behind Sprout Flowers in Worcester said when Jeff wrote about the diagnostic process he was going through:
“Mortality Sucks”

Thanks for holding a good thought for Jeff and Kathy.

Sizzle?

Our car is in the shop for an overnight visit. As a result we’re driving a loaner. The loaner is a 2010 Subaru Outback. Yes, the dealership is openly trying to tempt us. But there are a few problems. One: we love our current 2002 Subaru Outback. Two: our current Outback is a station wagon and the 2010 incarnation is most decidedly an SUV. The 2010 is actually on the steroidal side of the ledger. I’m about 5’9” and when I went to exit the vehicle, my feet did not touch the ground! Three: Subaru is still not offering a hybrid or all electric vehicle. They have concept cars aplenty, but nothing scheduled to hit the U.S. streets until 2012. I appreciate they want to get it right, but tick-tock. Four: The 2010 model is still nimble, peppy and comfortable, but none of the new design features or bells and whistles on the loaner totally knocked our socks off. (Well, the electric lumbar adjustment was pretty nifty!) Admittedly, it is a little (a little) like when Paul Newman was asked why he was faithful to Joanne Woodward he said: “Why fool around with hamburger when you have steak at home?”

So, with any luck at all, we’ll be returning the “hamburger” tomorrow and driving off in a healthy 2002 Outback “steak”!

This Is Only A Test

I find it frustrating that gasoline stations can charge $75.00 to your debit card, just so they can be sure you have enough money to cover the cost of a tank of gas. The $75.00 disappears within a day or so and it does not remain on the permanent record. But what if I had $30.00 in my checking account and I wanted to put $15.00 worth of gas in the tank. Wouldn’t the $75.00 “test” withdrawal mean I go without gas?

On multiple occasions, we’ve had our bank freeze our checking account because in too short a span of time we have pumped gas twice. The actual gasoline charges show up from two different stations, perhaps one in Rhode Island, another in Massachusetts. But two $75.00 charges also appear. Those look as if we had bought gas in another part of the country, simultaneous with the other purchases. The bank’s computers read all of this data and raise a red flag - which we absolutely appreciate. But without those two “test” charges we wouldn’t be on the phone with the bank trying to sort out legitimate from fraudulent.

I know when the gasoline prices hit the $4.00 a gallon mark back in 2008 or so, there were many “gas and dash” thefts from gas stations. But there ought to be a better way to handle these transactions now.

Country Chorus

It seems like such a brief time ago, we were delighted to hear the first of the Spring Peepers (Pseudacris crucifer). That high pitched harbinger of vernal awakening is always so welcome after long, still winters, with only howling winds as accompaniment.

Now we are being treated to the rolling rumble of the Bullfrogs (Rana catesbeiana). At first the individual sounds are sporadic, seeming almost hesitant; soon it becomes a great cacophonous crescendo; then it tapers off into a brief silence; only to begin the cycle again.

Folks who talk about the peace and quiet of the country, must have never really listened!

Memorial Day

With gratitude to all
who are serving now
and all those who have gone before them.

With special appreciation for those who gave their lives in service to our nation,
in particular
Uncle Carl.

Follow That Man!

Film Critic Roger Ebert has been through hell and back. But he still publishes at The Chicago Sun-Times and he has a blog. He also Tweets up a storm and is definitely worth following. His topics are wide ranging; his comments witty, pithy and an excellent match for the 140 character limit of Twitter.

Roger Ebert at the Chicago Sun-Times
Roger Ebert’s Journal
Mr. Ebert’s Twitter Feed

A Little More Spring

The perfume from this Mock Orange has been particularly powerful this year. Whether we are on the porch or upstairs in our bedroom, the slightest breeze causes a new wave of its spicy, heady scent to wash over us.

I still don’t know if this bunny is a native New England Cottontail (Sylvilagus transitionalis) or an Eastern Cottontail (Sylvilagus floridanus). Either way, it, along with some friends and family, enjoy nibbling along the edges of our lawn, especially in the late afternoon.

As Promised

May I present the L.L. Bean rockers, after assembly by (the smiling) Chuck. We can’t decide which way we like them best: with or without the striped cushions. But the photos give you a feel for them both ways.




As for Eartha curling up again on the old wooden rocking chair (or any rocking chair for that matter) she was having none of it. We tried placing her on the seat repeatedly, but she would just jump down, shaking her head at the odd things humans do. But she was ready for her close-up.

3/50

While we were up in Bar Harbor, Maine last month, we stopped into the wonderful Window Panes shop on Main Street. It’s a treasure trove of the practical, the exquisitely beautiful and their perfect offspring! Owner Julie was ringing up our purchases and we got to chatting about the importance of shopping local. Yes, we shop in the big box retailers. We dine in the national chain restaurants. And heaven help us, we order books on-line from you-know who. But our first choice is to patronize locally owned establishments. Julie referred us to something called The 3/50 Project: “Saving The Brick and Mortars Our Nation Is Built On”.

The 3/50 project asks the provocative question: What three independently owned businesses would you miss if they disappeared?”

Yup, you thought of a few didn’t you? The diner in town that always makes your eggs just right. The funky bookstore where the owner lets you know when your favorite author’s latest book has arrived. The cobbler who regularly resuscitates your Birkenstocks. The independent pharmacist who makes sure you have a ride to the dentist before he gives you the prescription for the Valium, because he’s worried about your safety (True story!).

Now, imagine all of them as empty storefronts. That sends a cold shiver up my spine.

Simple Solution: Patronize them!

Go to The 3/50 Project to find details on how easy it is for you to help. And you can get some powerful facts and figures about the benefits of keeping your dollars in the local economy.

Heat Wave

It was 94 degrees F (34C) in the shade today. Plus it was humid. Longtime readers know that neither Chuck nor I was happy about it. Despite the heat, Chuck spent some time getting the new rockers assembled. They are sturdy and comfortable! Yay L.L. Bean! And, most especially, yay Chuck!

Just before we moved into this house, we bought a big wooden rocker for our porch. We bought one because one was what we could afford at the time. We planned to go back and get the second one, but there was always a bigger priority. This spring I decided to try to find the old rocker’s twin but, alas, it was no longer in production. That’s what prompted the great rocker search of 2010, which led to our trip up to Freeport yesterday. The full rocking motion on the old wooden rocker is still superior, but we were both happy to report that the new rockers are more enjoyable to sit in.

Late this afternoon we sat on the porch in our new rockers and rocked - very, very slowly! One of our cats was curled up on the seat of the old rocker. She was the only one enjoying the heat. But we were all content.

Extra Mile(s)

I love good customer service. I don’t mean obsequiousness or fawning. What I really appreciate are people who like their jobs, understand their jobs, want to be sure that your customer experience is outstanding and go the extra mile to make that happen.

You know the scene in “Pretty Woman” where Richard Gere takes Julia Roberts shopping on Rodeo Drive? And shop owner Larry Miller asks Gere “How’s it going so far?” Gere replies: “I think we need some major sucking up.” I get that moment. That’s not what I mean by customer service, but I get it!

One of the reasons we are so loyal to L.L. Bean is because we have almost never, ever had a negative experience with any of their staff. Once in a blue moon you might come across an employee who is a little lackluster, but even that is quite rare. Today Chuck and I were in the Freeport, Maine “Flagship” store. It’s the one without locks on the doors because they are open 24/7/365. We had called all the smaller stores in Massachusetts and Connecticut to see if they had a particular rocking chair for our front porch. We wanted to be able to sit in it before we ordered it. None of the Southern New England stores had one on display. But when I called the Freeport store, they said yes indeed they had one we could try out. After some brief discussion, an impromptu road trip was organized and we headed north. We arrived at the building which houses the Home Store only to learn that they did not have that particular rocker on display!

Freeport is three hours from our home. Chuck and I may well be a couple of odd ducks, but we do not like wild goose chases! We explained to a young man named Chris why we looked both stunned and crestfallen. (Actually, I probably explained all my phone calls and our reason for driving three hours a few times!) Chris apologized for the inaccurate information we had received, but he couldn’t let us sit in a rocker he didn’t have. We discussed a variety of options with him. We sat in/on other chairs, benches and gliders. While we were hemming and hawing, Chris spoke with some other colleagues. Soon after, he emerged from a storeroom area with one of the elusive rockers! It was a damaged, returned rocker, but it was the one we had been seeking. Despite the damage, we were able to sit rather gingerly in it and found it to be as comfortable as we had hoped it would be. Yes!

We told Chris we would like to purchase two unassembled, flat-packed rockers in white, which, thanks to Chris, we already knew they had in stock, in the warehouse. Suddenly there was a new problem: the warehouse was closed! Closed? What about that whole 24/7/365 thing? Before we had a chance to plunge back into stunned and crestfallen, Chris said not to worry, they would have security open the warehouse for us. Come again? Yup. They would call security and we would meet them over at the Merchandise Pick Up Center.

That’s exactly what we did. Chris’s colleague Tim drove over to the warehouse and met us there. Soon after a security guard arrived. In no time, we had the rockers loaded up in the Subaru and we were on our way home. Tim even gave us a recommendation for where we could have dinner in Portland.

I love good customer service.

Goodness

Sue did something astonishingly generous.

It turned out beautifully.

Kindness Matters

“This is my simple religion.
There is no need for temples;
no need for complicated philosophy.
Our own brain, our own heart is our temple;
the philosophy is kindness.”
- The 14th Dalai Lama (1935 - )

My Mom is not perfect. Nor am I. But the stories she tells me of elderly women she knows who are parsimonious with praise, gentleness, generosity of spirit and kindness leave me slackjawed.

Holding back a thoughtful, cheerful compliment or an encouraging, supportive word, must be much harder than letting that little bit of grace out into the world.

Memory Lane

Chuck and I were down in Rhode Island yesterday with my Mom. It was an unusually long afternoon with lots of errands, so we didn’t get out of her hair until early evening. On the way home we stopped for a bite to eat at Newport Creamery. I grew up with Newport Creamery so for me it is all tied up with happy childhood and teenage memories. My favorite location was the one in East Greenwich, next to Thorpe’s Pharmacy, in the same plaza with Almacs. I may have gone to Friendly’s restaurants over the years (Newport Creamery’s primary regional competitor), but my heart belonged to Newport Creamery. Unfortunately, after the founding family sold the business, the corporation went through some dire times (including bankruptcy and auction) and nearly disappeared.

We discovered this Newport Creamery, on Atwood Avenue in Johnston, several weeks ago. The moment I saw the sign, I had absolutely no choice but to pull in and get a coffee (what else?) ice cream cone. It tasted exactly the same as I remembered: heavenly! But we hadn’t eaten a meal in a Newport Creamery since the one in Worcester closed many years ago. Last night was a treat. We found that they still serve a hamburger “The Newport Creamery Way”: on buttery grilled bread with melted cheese; lettuce and tomato on the side. I ordered mine well done; Chuck’s medium. They were done correctly. They still serve their amazing Sweet Red Pepper Relish which puts the whole homestyle-comfort-food-burger-cheese-melt right over the top. Amazingly, we resisted ice cream, a cabinet (which, heretically, they are now calling a frappe!) or an “Awful-Awful”. The joint was jumpin’ and noisy with kids. But the service was great (Thanks Taylor!). Coincidentally, this Newport Creamery is housed in a former Friendly’s. Maybe “coincidentally” is the wrong word. Perhaps I should have used “justifiably”! Either way, we’ll be back.

Question

How long after a musical is born does one have to wait for an Original Cast Recording to come out as a CD?

I would like an O.C.R. of “Johnny Baseball” A.S.A.P.!

I can see it in my mind. I can remember snatches of dialogue and lyrics. But I am unable to hum, whistle or sing any songs from the show.

This must be rectified!

Johnny Baseball

Yes, I am a fan of the Boston Red Sox, but you don’t need to be one in order to love “Johnny Baseball”. All you need is a heart.

Tonight, Chuck and I attended the fourth night of the world premiere of this musical at the American Repertory Theater in Cambridge. It was terrific! It tells the tale of the Boston Red Sox from 1900 right up until they miraculously turned the corner in Game Four of the 2004 American League Championship Series.

The creative team of Robert Reale, Willie Reale and Richard Dresser (originally from Holden!), with the able direction of Diane Paulus, manage to compress a century of baseball, culture and racism into the story of two fictional characters: Johnny O’Brien, the outstanding Red Sox pitcher who, so humbly embodies the sport, he becomes known as Johnny Baseball and Daisy Wyatt the African American blues singer who captures his heart. Over the course of two fast paced hours we come to understand the real reason for the curse which kept the Red Sox from winning a World Series for 86 impossibly long years. And we face head on the bigotry which led to the Red Sox being the last baseball team to integrate with the hiring of Pumpsie Green in 1959 - twelve years after Jackie Robinson broke that barrier in 1947.

“Johnny Baseball” is creatively but lightly staged to perfection. Little more than a set of bleachers, the Fenway Park sign, the Green Monster and a few tables and chairs frame each scene. (The stagehands deserve kudos for their seamless and unobtrusive work.) The lighting, coupled with the thrust configuration of the Loeb Drama Center created focus and intimacy with the cast. Nearly all of the members of the ensemble play multiple roles. Happily, the cast is filled with powerful, lovely voices. Despite perhaps three brief microphone glitches, the sound was solid tonight, with the music and voices complementing each other; never competing. Costuming was detailed and evocative of each era represented and added to the ease of transitions as the storyline progresses through the decades, with repeated cuts back to the pivotal Game Four in 2004. Yes, there is a touch of “Field of Dreams” and “The Natural” in “Johnny Baseball”, but the show is unique. (Oh how I want to tell the entire story in detail, but I don’t wish to ruin any plot twists and surprises!)

From the moment you arrive and staff in Red Sox jerseys take your tickets, while another “hawks” the program; to the sausage cart on the patio at intermission, the A.R.T., under the blessedly accessible artistic direction of Diane Paulus, echoes the atmosphere and excitement of Fenway Park. After the opening number “86 Years” I found myself smiling and thinking: “The trip was worth it just for this number.” But “Johnny Baseball” held and even raised the bar through both acts. By the time the full company sang the final number “The Game of Baseball” I was in tears.

The entire cast is to be commended for their talent, clarity and passion:
Colin Donnell
Stepanie Umoh
Charl Brown
Burke Moses
Jeff Brooks
Robert McClure
Joe Cassidy
Alan H. Green
Carly Jibson
Kaitlyn Davidson
Kirsten Wyatt
Paula Leggett Chase
Charles Turner
Erik March

They deserved the standing ovation we gave them. They also deserved a full house!

“Johnny Baseball” is playing at the A.R.T. through June 27, 2010. Treat yourself and get tickets now!

P.S. Our beloved Boston and Southern New England accent is so often played too broadly or just plain mangled in television shows and movies, that Dialect Coach Nancy Houfek deserves three cheers for helping the performers get it right!

Second Time’s The Charm

Today was a low key day by design (we’re going out for my birthday tomorrow evening). But it turned out to be fortuitous because I was a bit under the weather. At one point Chuck said he wished he could do more to help me feel better. I thanked him for all he had been doing. He dismissed them as “little” things. I replied they were not little to me and then added “In fact, I posted about that very subject.” A quick search helped me find this. Which, after I read it aloud, I decided to repost:

Love, Romance, Fact, Fiction

We’ve all been sold a bill of goods. It started ages ago with fairy tales, books, television and movies. I’m referring to the “romantic grand gesture”. You know - the hero rides up on the white horse and sweeps the damsel off her feet. The engagement that takes place on the JumboTron at the 50,000 seat stadium. Jetting off from New York to Paris, just for dinner. The clock striking midnight, the pumpkin coach and the kingdom-wide search for the rightful owner of the glass slipper. OK. I’ll admit they’re fun to watch, but that’s not the bedrock foundation of romance.

Nope. It’s the small gesture. The routine, humdrum, ho-hum, daily grind of living a life together with the person you love. It’s putting the other person first in your thoughts, words and deeds. I’m not talking about subjugating yourself to someone else. Just exercising the reflexive thought that always thinks about the impact of your actions on your partner. Listening, holding hands, being there - choosing to be there with your partner - making each other laugh, holding each other through tears, taking out the trash. Seriously - taking out the trash, washing dishes, doing the laundry, cooking meals, paying bills, scooping the kitty litter, mowing the lawn - those are the household chores, which when completed, help peace reign in the home. Finding a way to take on those tasks with a cheerful spirit, or heck, just slogging through them knowing it’s for the good of your little family unit, well, that works too. And let’s not forget the social graces of please, thank you, excuse me and gesundheit. Saying I love you, saying it often. Saying I love you in the heat of an argument just to remind yourself and your partner of where it all sprang from. Saying yes to the one you love. Yes, you’ll attend the concert that you think sounds like fingernails on a blackboard, because your partner thinks it’s the sound of angels. Yes, you’ll attend the poetry reading or the Nascar race or the thimble convention or the woodworking show, because that’s what floats the love of your life’s boat. And you’ll do it with a willing smile or you’ll at least tour the convention floor and settle down in a corner with a good book until you have lunch together!

Not romantic enough for you? You really want to hire the horse and wriggle into the suit of armor? How about leaving a note in your partner’s briefcase or lunch box instead? Or jotting a quick “Thank you! I Love you!” on a Post-It-Note and sticking it in the checkbook just before they write the checks, to pay the bills, because you never have been able to balance the checkbook. Or call them in the middle of the day to say “Hi” and ask “How’s it going?” and actively listen to their answer. Remember their birthday, your anniversaries and pick a bunch of black-eyed-susans from the side of the road and bring them home.

It’s not the grand gesture. It’s the Golden Rule mentality that wins hearts. That’s real romance. That’s real love.

Need Or Scam?

Many, many summers ago, Chuck and I were sitting in our car on a street in Boston. We were chatting about where to head next when a man came up to the car window. He had a very specific story about how he came to be in need of some money and came off as quite credible. He promised to pay us back. Chuck decided to give him twenty dollars along with his business card. The man thanked him and promised he would send us the money the next day. Of course we never were repaid. After that experience we wished two things: the first, that we had not given him the money and the second, that we had absolutely not given him a business card. That guy was so smooth, we came to have the feeling that he was a “professional” con man or panhandler.

Over the years, I have been approached on numerous occasions in multiple locations. Each time a person, or, in one instance, a couple, has had a story of misfortune, followed by a request for money. Sometimes they have wanted me to drive them somewhere. In every instance I have said no. Once, at JFK Airport in New York, I was approached twice in the parking lot by the same person, but a couple of hours apart. After the second occurrence I reported him to security.

A few months ago, a man came up to us as we were about to exit our car to go into a restaurant in Worcester. He had an elaborate tale to tell, which ended with him stating that he needed us to give him money. We declined. In that instance he persisted and began to look angry. He did eventually walk away from us, but we stayed in our vehicle and ended up changing our plans and driving away.

This week, Chuck and I were in Worcester, headed back to our car after leaving a different restaurant with a to go order. Another man came up to us, asking us to do him a favor. He told a convoluted story. But the upshot was, he said he needed ten more dollars to get the cab fare to go home. We declined. He walked away.

I like to think of myself as a kind person, even generous. But I cannot bring myself to trust the strangers who approach me wanting money. Nor can I bring myself to believe the people who want me to drive them somewhere, whereupon I will be reimbursed for my gasoline and my trouble.

The terrible feeling I have after these encounters is that if the stories the strangers tell me are true, I would like to help them. But I don’t believe them. And I hate the nagging concern that I could have or should have helped out a fellow human being.

Sunday

I don’t know exactly where the day went, but it has zipped by. There were phone calls, e-mails, family history, walking (fast), laundry, hanging laundry, cooking, eating, measuring, sorting, tossing, planning and a dismal Red Sox game.

Here’s a tiny violet which took root along the edge of a Carriage Road in Acadia. It made a home in gravel, with just a few pine needles scattered around it. Plucky little thing; it likely doesn’t care that my day felt hectic and busy and yet still not as productive as I would have liked it to be. And it is also probably unperturbed about the Red Sox, having learned at an early age to take the long view. The violet is busy being; doing what the violet needs to do: survive and thrive.

I’ll work on that...

Big Blog Birthday Bash

Tomorrow is Roo’s birthday, as well as Jake’s. Monday is Sue’s birthday (Jake’s Mom). Wednesday is Wendy’s birthday. Oh, and I’ll be celebrating the half-century-plus-two birthday on Tuesday!

”Happy Birthday to us,
Happy Birthday to us,
Happy Birthday dear all of us
Happy Birthday to us -
and many more!
Wheeeeeee!!!”

The “Cottage”

It wouldn’t have to be this big. And it certainly wouldn’t need to be this modern. But a little place, on the ocean, up on Mount Desert Island in Maine, well, that would be nice. Except for that whole pesky financial thing of course!

“Nazi Tourette’s”

Comedian Lewis Black is spang on as he describes Glenn Beck on Jon Stewart’s The Daily Show. (Thanks to Countdown with Keith Olbermann.)

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Back in Black - Glenn Beck's Nazi Tourette's
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Tea Party

Problem with the video? Here’s the link to watch it on The Daily Show’s website.

Dear Diary

I can’t remember how it began, but Chuck and I were discussing something recently and couldn’t remember exactly when it had happened. (Gail’s move to Georgia? One of our trips to Seattle?) I tried searching iCal, but it was long enough ago that we weren’t using it as consistently as we do now. I began to look in iPhoto, but then I thought to search Pink Granite. I used the little search box in the upper left hand corner of the page and poof, we had the answer. That was when the penny dropped and I realized this blog was, in many ways, a chronicle or a diary of our lives.

So I randomly scrolled through a month and found things which surprised me. As “Miss Memory” I don’t like to be surprised! For example, in March of 2007 we helped a driver get his pick up truck unstuck. As I read the brief post, the fog cleared and I could remember the event. But if you had asked me to recall it without the aid of that post, I would have been as stuck as that driver had been!

Similarly, when I went back to link to “Team Carrie” yesterday, I read that post and the follow up notes appended to other posts. Apparently I am much better at “pulling the shade” than I knew. Remembering the scariness of that day and some of the medical ups and downs which happened in the next couple of weeks left me filled up. When I think back on it, I tend to focus on Carrie’s smiling face in Recovery and in her room at the hospital. And of course I remember the camaraderie of all of us wearing the “Team Carrie” signs on lanyards as we waited for news.

I never kept a diary when I was a kid. (Well, there were a couple of attempts, but I was always afraid my mother would find it, so I didn’t bother!) Turns out, I have a very public one now. And it’s becoming, quite literally, an aide-mémoire.

Happy Mother’s Day!

I can now tell you, with great delight and excitement, that our niece Carrie and her husband Al are expecting their first child!

It has not been at all easy keeping this happy secret. But now that Carrie has safely navigated her first trimester we feel free to share the good news with you.

You likely remember Carrie from her “Team Carrie” days and her heart procedure. You probably remember Al and our love for him despite his “appreciation” of the dastardly New York Yankees. And I bet you remember Hurricane Hanna crashing Al and Carrie’s wedding day.

Now that I think about it, “Hanna” or Hannah, is actually a very pretty name...
;o)

A Tin Ear No More

President Barack Obama issued a proclamation naming May 2010 as Jewish American Heritage Month. In this lovely and important statement, the President describes the Jewish American story as “an essential chapter of the American narrative”. It concludes with this paragraph:

“Today, Jewish Americans carry on their culture's tradition of "tikkun olam" -- or "to repair the world" -- through good deeds and service.  As they honor and maintain their ancient heritage, they set a positive example for all Americans and continue to strengthen our Nation.”

Andrew Silow-Carroll, Editor-in-Chief of the New Jersey Jewish News and Josh Rolnick, a member of the Board of Directors of the National Jewish Democratic Council point out that, unlike previous proclamations, President Obama removed the standard Christian phrase “in the year of our Lord” from this proclamation.

Nice touch.
Thank you Mr. President.
(He’s such a mensch.)

Lilacs For Lunch

I was talking with Chuck in the dooryard this afternoon when a flash of color flitted by beyond his shoulder. It was an Eastern Tiger Swallowtail (Papilio glaucus). (I suppose it could have been a Canadian Tiger Swallowtail (Papilio canadensis), but I think that would be less likely.) I went to get the camera, hoping it would stick around until I could get back outside. Happily, it seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the lilac blossoms and let me snap away. I wish I could upload the lilacs’ intense but never overpowering perfume. It has always been a favorite of mine.

Positive Ripples

We attended a beautiful funeral service yesterday. The woman who passed was 97. She was part of our greater extended family, but we had only been in her company a few times. As we listened to the Rabbi, her daughters, granddaughters and a friend of long standing eulogize and reminisce, we got to know Rose better. It may be trite to say that we laughed and we cried, but we did both. We were grateful to be able to listen to how Rose lived her life and appreciate that every day, through every action, Rose chose to be positive. It put us in mind of the philosophy of Randy Pausch. In fact, Rose and her late husband had been deeply affected by Viktor Frankl’s “Man’s Search For Meaning”.

As all of us were helping to lay her physical body to rest by placing the first few shovels of earth on her casket, Rose was still teaching, still influencing those around her. What a wonderful legacy she left - even to those of us who did not know her well before yesterday.

Welcome Home

Many years ago, I transplanted some creeping phlox (Phlox subulata) from down by the roadside to up by the barn. I used a bulb planter to cut circles of flowers and soil and then quickly replant them. It was a spur of the moment decision. Within a year or two, they had formed a cheerful but tidy row along the top of the wall. When we stopped using a second car, we stopped using the far set of doors. Soon the phlox were leap frogging out of their casually defined bed and colonizing the driveway. When we arrived home from Maine it was a wonderful sight to behold - even in the spill of the indirect light from the barn fixture.

Bar Harbor and Acadia were wonderful.
Home is good too.