A mother’s day to remember

Scrolling through some of my pictures from the past I came up on a wonderful event that Goose surprised me with: a day at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston (MFA) for Mother’s Day. What’s the big hubbub? Well, the special exhibit they were showing at the time was that of (Dale) Chihuly. With over 200 collections world wide, I was so very lucky to be able to see one of his major travelling exhibitions (thank you from the bottom of my heart Goose! It was awesome!)

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It was another ‘mystery adventure’ only this time the mystery was on me!

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The colors, the forms, the exhibit as a whole was an overload of the senses. Glass blown in all shapes sizes… some that dangled from the ceiling while others were floor to ceiling in height. This particular display (shown above) was actually a small portion of the exhibit which was in the ceiling above us, so I was looking up at these plates of glass-shells of sorts.

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The party hat lemon left all other lemons envious.

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The delicate carvings, while still maintaining the enormous size, cannot be described adequately and must be seen with your own eyes.

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A giant monster from your glass garden awaits to wrap you in its tentacles and eat you alive!

If you ever have the opportunity to see his work, you simply must go. Pictures and words do not do any of it justice. Just say yes, who knows where it will take you!

I am grateful for…

A very intelligent, wise, and overflowing with love individual named Patreeko inspired me to write about what I am grateful for (or at least the short version/part I).

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Q – Hiding in the jungle

Without putting a concrete order to the list, let’s start with the parents. Without knowing their background, meeting them for the first time you would think they were on top of the world (but one they worked very hard to obtain). Very meager childhoods did not dissuade them from striving to meet their full potential. They enjoyed everything life had to offer. Even when faced with working three jobs to own his own home and put food on the table for a family of six, my father did not give up and could see the bigger picture. A college degree became very important in the working world if you wanted to move on up and even though my mom was a full time housewife, he pushed her toward the same (as they would say, knowledge is something that no one can take from you). He always maintained a beautiful garden, the envy of all the neighborhood. Growing each plant by seedling, they flourished, spread, and brought amazing colors to all who went by.

Graduating with a high honors Bachelor’s degree to teach, was the obvious choice for my mother. She had so much to offer young people that was not offered in school books. Life is not all black and white (I am looking at you Math) but having a deep passion, appreciating, understanding, and acknowledging the utmost importance of music, art, dance, languages, cultures, travel… it is all related and connected to the ‘black and white’ and if you don’t know and understand these pieces to the puzzle of life, than you are not getting the whole picture, and that’s just sad. She was a docent at a very prestigious art museum and would give tours every Sunday. With a very young me in tow, I learned more about the subtleties of color and symbolism in art than any six year old needs. So yes, very grateful for their wisdom, their commonsense, their teaching me (and my daughter) about the bigger things in life and how to push through, focus, understand, analyze, problem solve, and keep it moving, keep it positive, the ‘you got this’ attitude.

Next up, the kid, or Goose as she is known in this blog. Through no fault of her own, she has pushed me to become a better person. One with more patience and understanding (although she may not agree with that statement but it is on-going and always working on it), one that makes me look deeper into my own self to do what is right and not what is easy, to try my best to be a good role model, to be less selfish, to enjoy what life has to offer us, and at many times, make our own fun. She is the bright ball of smiles and laughter you would expect any child to be and even to this day, her naivety is a breath of fresh air in this sullied society. Our time together has been unmatched…all the day trips, international vacations, daily up and downs…I wouldn’t change any of it. She has always had the gift of giving and has found a way to bring her sunshine to those that may not have it. She currently works as a caregiver (while working on her nursing degree) for the elderly and while not all are homebound and alone, she offers companionship and many laughs for them and their family members. Her patients are very lucky to have someone who loves to assist and support them as much as she does, for growing old can be a very lonely and scary process these days. She is simply an amazing person that has so much to offer, on so many levels, to so many people.

I am very grateful for The Q – can’t talk about her and you can’t make me. But she most definitely was my world.

I use the word ‘friend’ sparingly because there are very few people who actually can be honored by it. In today’s world it is overused and tainted. Very few people who will drop everything and be there for you when you need it, no questions asked, no judgement given, and not ‘yes’ you to death but one that will tell the truth for your own good, no matter how much it hurts and want the same in return. I have had the privilege of befriending Brienne (like Brie cheese and then N), “DubaSue” and her dolphin move, one that shall remain anonymous, and Rebecca (aka Beth to her family, she is Rebecca to me). Each one of them has been a part of my life for well over 15 years and although we don’t get to see one another or talk as often as we would like, truth is, I know I could meet up at any given point and carry on as if no time had passed, just a few more gray hairs to count the years since we last met.

To end this ‘Part I’ of sorts I will say, I am very grateful for my health. I thank God every night for my health; mental, physical, and emotional. It does need a little tweaking here and there. I am now in the battle of the bulge mode; maintaining what others may consider to be a ‘normal’ weight but it bugs the heck out of me. If I don’t contain it now, it will only become an issue later one. Being middle aged brings on a plethora of health issues and thus far (knock on wood) I have been blessed with a body that requires little to no maintenance; no medication, no surgeries, no therapy…yes very blessed and it does not go without thanks.

Days go by quickly and it is very important to take the time to remember what we are grateful for, even if it is not a list of things, but merely one or two (this sounds corny but every day I thank the man out loud, that invented indoor plumbing and the hot shower-that guy rocks!).

Look hard, find that thing you are grateful for today, big or small…embrace it and be grateful for it, today and every day.

 

Close your eyes and you are at the beach

I have to start off by saying I am not a big fan of the Cape (Cod) but I do have to acknowledge that I have had some wonderful times there over the last 6 years all thanks to ‘The Man That Puts Up With Me’.

Case in point: my very handsome guy (who puts up with me) owns a boat, and it lends itself to some otherwise non-accessible beach areas which then in turn lends itself to many very relaxing secluded day trips. Picnics, sunbathing, and reflection, are all the agenda holds on those days.

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This picture is taken a few years ago at a point in Chatham called Monomoy (If you are unfamiliar with the area, it is the very tip of the elbow portion of the Cape). This is a naturally created huge sand bar type area that protects the inner harbor and changes with the tides each day and with every storm. So much so that the place where I took these pictures no longer exists. It was a beautiful hilly peninsula extending far into the ocean full of tall ocean grass, piping plovers, and seals (and sometimes, if you are lucky, you can get a glimpse off in the distance of a whale spouting his water). We had been to this spot many times to just beach the boat and watch the seals swim their laps up and down not 10 feet from the short line.

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Several storms have left the area sands drastically shifted and ocean grass now several feet below the water. The seals still find the wet almost muddy areas to take a nap and escape the well-known great white sharks looking for a snack but sitting, reflecting, and relaxing in this spot will have to remain a memory.

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When I said ‘secluded’ I wasn’t kidding. Although almost everyone owns a boat here, there are so many sand bars and so much shore line you will more than likely find your own slice of heaven on any given day.

Come to think of if, you wouldn’t like it here, it’s hot, traffic sucks, overcrowded beaches, the fresh fish is awful, and you don’t want to get sunburned (whew that was a close one! I almost had to share my nirvana…). 

The price of a vacation

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To sit on the balcony drinking a cup of coffee early in the morning

To feel the warm breeze and watch it blow through the palm trees as they sway

To listen to the birds chirping and flittering about the grounds finding their breakfast

To spot lizards that walk through the grass or come down from the trees as their bodies slowly warm

To spy on the vacationers from my personal ‘crows nest’ and watch them stake their claim on a chair by the pool or on in the sand on the beach

To watch the sun slowly starts to make its way up and over the room just for me

To take a picture of the ball of pink, yellow, gold, purple, lighting up the sky as it sets

And to take a long deep breath of the wonderful day that lay behind

And look forward to another amazingly beautiful new day that awaits me…

There is no price tag too high to cement the spectacularly happy memories I will have from that day… and forever more

Good thing there was sparkling wine

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Groupon, you have once again forced me out of my square and push me into a parallelogram instead; for that I should thank you.

Goose and I spend a few hours at Luke Adams’s Glass Blowing Shop and not only learned a little about glass manipulation but ended with a wearable piece of jewelry. Of course not without me first becoming stressed about which piece to make…earrings (post or dangling), bracelet (cuff or beaded), wine stopper, key chain… too many choices …and as the clock is ticking, a decision have to be made. I settle on the necklace, only to face my next mountain of artistic decisions, color, shape, size… curse you Groupon and your ‘Things to Do’ suggestions!!

Goose reminds me that this is supposed to be ‘fun’. Ok, deep cleansing breath, let’s see how much ‘fun’ we can have without checking me into the psych ward just a few blocks away. All the other ladies seem to be doing this with ease, laughing, creating, just another ‘Martha Stewart’ day for them…a few pieces of colored glass and voila, a stained glass window scene of Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel (awesome, heavy sigh).

Another deep cleansing breath, no pressure, this is not a competition, it’s a fun day out with my daughter, spending time with one another, being inspired and supportive and hopefully look back to remember… who the hell am I kidding! Of course it is a competition! I cannot just look around at the other pieces without feeling some sort of one-upmanship!

I carefully choose my pieces, grab the cutting tools, glue and tweezers and go for it. Cautiously I place the tiny granules of color on the black piece of glass (living recklessly and not using a ruler to be sure they are precisely the same distance from one another) and then was reminded by the teacher that there is not another class due immediately so we can run over our timeslot (thanks but that albatross around my neck, totally not necessary)… and then… that’s it. I am done. Whew.

The instructor pops open a bottle of sparkling wine and says who would like a mimosa? Come on. Who doesn’t want a mimosa?!!

Well I have to say, it doesn’t suck. And Goose? I expected nothing less than a beautiful piece from her, just like her grandmother would do. She creates with 98% grace and 10% uncertainty (math joke) but always turns out wonderfully.

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my finished necklace and Goose’s finished bracelet – pretty neat huh?!!

Goose and I visit the animals

We drove out to an exotic rescue shelter of sorts. Not knowing what to expect, I was satisfied with the short-version visit; a handling exhibit of a snake, chinchilla, chameleon, skunk, and bearded dragon (not all at the same time). The young lady was thorough, great with the children, and answered my million questions that were on my mind.

As the handler held up the black snake, I burst into my rendition of: “In Africa, the saying goes, ‘In the bush, an elephant can kill you, a leopard can kill you, and a black mamba can kill you. But only with the black mamba is death sure.’ Hence its handle ‘Death Incarnate’-pretty cool huh…” not too many times do I get to quote this particular Kill Bill scene so we missed what the black snake really was. I am sticking with – it’s a black mamba.

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In other observations in the room… Goose and I watch the children pet the animals and their faces light up, but one particular toddler-aged girl pets each furry animal or bacterial laden reptile, and promptly puts her fingers in her mouth. It is always interesting to watch other parents and how they can be oblivious (or lazy… I was giving her the benefit of the doubt). On the upside, I guess that is how you build one’s immune system (but ick!).

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We then were lead outside, passed the goat (I believe his name was Richard) who liked to escape his pen, (and stood proudly showing off his Houdini talent), to the beautifully relaxed lynx cleaning himself and the two foxes snuggled atop the snow drifts trying to nap, peering at us over their fluffy tails laid across their snouts, and a look of distain, “can you not see we are trying to sleep here, honey you forgot to put out the do not disturb sign again”.

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From there we headed into the reptile room (more? awesome!) and was greeted by an anaconda on the right and a 200 lb reticulated python on the left. Fingers crossed they ate recently….::slowly stepping behind the toddler::

And like a magic trick, the tour guide brought us to yet another room full of mammals; lemurs, a crowned crane, turtles and tortoises, two wallabies, a kookaburra (yes you read that correctly-the bird that sits in the old gum tree, king of the bush is he… and all that), porcupines, owls, rabbits, and more…

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Stay tuned for the next Adventures in the MiniCooper!

Conversation hearts with a twist

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This is just a joke, not male bashing. Take a deep breath and laugh, it’s funny.

As an educational side note:

History of Sweethearts®

Sweethearts® share a storied history with our legendary New England Confectionery Company- NECCO® Wafers , which isn’t surprising since their inventors share a bloodline. Daniel Chase created the first conversation hearts in 1866 by devising a machine that would press food dye letters onto the candy lozenges made famous by his brother and NECCO® founder Oliver Chase.

NECCO (New England Confectionery Company) is the oldest continuously operating candy company in the United States. It was founded in 1847 when Oliver Chase invented the first American candy machine. NECCO produces its entire assortment of candy at the company’s headquarters in Revere, MA. Popular brands include: the beloved NECCO Wafers, the Valentine’s Day staple Sweethearts, and other iconic brands such as the Clark Bar, Sky Bar, Canada Mints, Candy Buttons, Mary Jane, and Haviland Thin Mints.

(photo found via Comedy103.1 site/origin unknown)

Artsy-fartsy I am not

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I have never been able to comfortably embrace my artistic side; plain and simply I have none.

My mother was a brilliant artist in the true sense of the word. She could dance, sing (although she more often than not forgot the words which was always the joke between the family), played the piano (self taught), and kicked butt playing tennis against any single or doubles team that dare take her on… but her piece de résistance would easily be her painting. Pastels, charcoal, and rice paper, nothing caused a bump in her ability to capture the moment. Some day I will post her painting to share with the world and have her legacy live on forever but right now this is about me….

I am the last in the line of boys, and being the only other female in the family, her immense talent is a lot to aspire to. There should be some mom-daughter connection no?

Early on I learned I did not have the talent, nor did I have the patience. I have all of my father’s analytical genes (and also am my own worst critic). The highly organized (put it back where you found it and how you found it so you can find it again next time), the strict control of time (we don’t have time to stop we have a schedule to keep) and the deductive reasoning (if its not the air filter, the sparks or the timing, it is probably a gunky gas filter)… all very useful and practical in the world so I am not knocking it.

So why is it I still strive to be artsy-fartsy like my mom? I have taken to using a Groupon for ‘fun’ artistic afternoons with my daughter and do something different (none of this bowling or mini golf crap). The use of quotation in the word -fun- is there because I typically stress out more trying to complete the task rather than enjoy it’s process. Don’t get me wrong, it does not take away from the time spent with my daughter. We still laugh and crack jokes even if we are the only ones laughing, but the pressure to make it perfect, to get what I see in my head out through my hands, is close to impossible and extremely-extremely frustrating (did I mention it is extreme?!)

So the birch trees you see are another attempt at my striving to bond with my mother.  After all, don’t we secretly wish that our children will take something special from us and pass it along to future generations? Maybe that is it; I disappointed her in that sense and am still striving to keep a piece of her alive while failing miserably. (Hmm Fraud where are you now?)

I am sure it will not be the last time but sooner or later I will get the hint; I am just not artsy-fartsy.