Parents

I've been thinking about my parents lately. They have both passed over, so I am now the "older generation" in my family. Here they were with my oldest. Picture taken some 21 years ago. She looks pretty happy to be in the arms of a loving grandma. 

Day one and Day two

Shiny Objects

This is a snapshot of a panel I am working on. I am learning how to render reflective objects. The coffee can says "Bob's Coffee" on a strip of masking tape. It was Folgers. He liked his coffee strong, with a spoonful of sugar.

The Boundaries of a Breakup

Facebook and how to get or lose your "friends"...interesting article. Ok, it's an old article, but I just found my note on a scrap of paper, and wanted to share it here in November....so here it is!

The Oldest People on the Street

The other day I was feeling old, creaky, and just plain worn out. (That's right, I am only in my fifties)...then I looked out the window, and caught a glimpse of my neighbor, an older woman (in her 80's who is Norwegian. At one recent block party we all remarked that while we may get older and die, she'll be re-roofing her house and outliving us all. She showed up to that event with a party platter, cut meats cheeses, lefse that she made herself, and gave all a jar of homemade jam.

So, as I limped to the window, imagine my shame as I saw this gal outside, in her boots and rain gear, hauling around her hose. I thought, what? She is washing her house? It turns out she was washing her windows, outside with a long handled contraption I can only think she made herself in her basement. Here is what she looked like:

The New York Times had this little essay by Michael Winerip on a similar line of thinking.

Wood and Relations

My father was a cabinet maker for 36 years. We lived in a house with exotic woods. I joke with my siblings that we should "part out" the house when we sell it, because the wood is now so precious and who could love it as much as we did? ( my siblings are horrified by this suggestion, by the way).

Here is an article in Dwell magazine about a guy who kept all the wood (plywood, mostly, not very exotic) from his grandmother's house in Poland.

Sand Dollars and Yellowjackets

Here is a snapshot of what I collected (non Buddhist-way) at the beach recently. A couple of wasps and some sand dollars, some sun and some wind added in for good measure, and some sarcastic commentary on life in a small town. I met some interesting weirdos and watched some tourists playing on the beach and attempting to surf.

Best view: guy teaching his 6 or 7 year old to surf, and watching her giggle gleefully when riding the board in on her knees.

Houses on Rocks

This is an interesting article about a summer home in Norway. I see a peek into the sauna in one photo and it had me reminiscing about my years of enjoying saunas. My father immigrated here from Finland in 1947 so we grew up with the (sauna) Scandinavian tradition, at least once a week. Ours included building the fire, and keeping the furnace hot for at least three hours, which gave several hours of sauna enjoyment. This article is all about using available wood, and putting the home on the land with an artist's eye.

Holiday Traditions

Gingerbread houses? Not at my childhood home. I was born a few days after Christmas, so the birthday cake idea seemed silly after overeating from Thanksgiving through Christmas. We started making "candy houses". I think it may have started with gingerbread, but my mother didn't care for the flavor of gingerbread. It was a tradition got to help stick the candy on, with a thick fast drying icing. I got to rip the candy off and eat it on my birthday. Eventually the cardboard boxes we made the houses out of became a sturdy, wooden house, including a wooden yard, and a wooden fence, and...of course, an outhouse. (including the opening door with a crescent moon on it). One year my father brought this contraption home from his cabinet shop. It has survived all the years (40 or so) and all the candy stuck on over foil.

What is your holiday tradition that has survived?

Dead Dads

My sweetie's dad died this week. He was 99 years old. What makes a good life? We are quite bad at death and dying in the U.S.A.

My dad made his transition to the other side last year. I am still amazed that I can't see him or speak with him. My dad died even though we all tried to keep him alive, with drugs, food, and whatever we could conjure. I still miss the guy.

A father's gift is complicated...How to be a man, a husband, a father. In some cases, how not to be, but the gift is the same. It's what they do or don't do that molds us.

Rest in peace, dear dads.