Today is my mother's 84th birthday. Happy Birthday, Mutti! Looking forward to your visit in November.
This image of my Mom and baby sister was captured circa June 1969 by my eldest brother, gms.
The other night I scanned some old black-and-white photos from the 1950's. This one is is of my brother and me; we are only fourteen months apart and my mother says the two of us were like twins.
My grandmother and mother are in the background as my brother and I romp around at a family gathering circa 1953. I'm not sure of the occasion, but I like the fact that my grandmother, brother and I are all sporting striped clothing. I seem to be jumping rope or just dancing like a maniac; I still do the latter....
Remembering my Dad this week.... I love this photo that my Mom took of my Dad and my sister sharing a joyful moment in the summer of 1957.
This grouping of hydrangea and salvia graces my front porch these days. I must admit that I don't have a green thumb (my sisters got that gene), but I do my best to honor the seasons and am a great aficionado of gardens of all kinds.
My sister went to the local farmer's market yesterday for fresh blooms to bless her home. Our youngest sister and her middle daughter are coming for a week-long visit on Friday and we are rolling out the red carpet.
My husband and I got married in December of 1981 in California. The following May my parents held a small family wedding reception for us at their home in Pennsylvania. The lilacs were in bloom and everything was exquisite.
Five years after this occasion, my youngest sister tied the knot, and our whole family created her handmade wedding. For all the details, see this article that I wrote for the Storque News on Etsy.com.
As you probably know from my earlier posts, I am participating in National Novel Writing Month this November. Part of my inspiration is family stories from various parts of world.
A little corner of Vermont is where my Scottish ancestors chose to settle in 1774. Last year after I began researching my roots on Ancestry.com, I made the acquaintance of a long-lost cousin whose husband is descended from the little girl on the left in this photo, the daughter of one of my great-aunts. She shared a number of vintage family photos which we had never seen.
I love the innocence of this toy wagon ride from about 1914, the rare candid shot of the baby being bathed below, and the sheer joy on the face of our dear Jean as she is given a wheelbarrow ride by her older cousin.
Images like these make it easy for me to conjure up parts of my novel that honor the intrepid spirit of this line of early Vermont pioneers.
I found this inspiring calendar page by fellow flickreeno Gun-gun while surfing flickr a bit ago. It will be essential to refer to it as I write my novel this month. The target word count in a cumulative sequence is given at the top of each date, with the goal of 50,000 words by November 30th in bright red. I can contemplate the beauty of these blooms as I meet my goals each day.
I'm trying to maintain a balanced schedule as I undertake this task, taking time to exercise and eat good meals, make sure I have my daily ritual of tea, spin some of my Ragamuffin yarn, keep in touch with friends and writing buddies, talk to my mother every day--she is a great source of storylines--and not overwhelm myself in the process. On with the novel writing!
I've put together a seasonal table to celebrate autumn and to give thanks that I am currently safe in the face of the horrible wildfires raging throughout San Diego County, California. One of my good friends has been evacuated from her home; she is safe and sound with her parents at the moment, and we hope she and her husband will be able to go back to their home in the next few days. Many have not been so lucky and my heart goes out to them. Blessed be!
In the little hand-thrown bowl here (a thrift shop find) are lady apples, tiny little specimens that my husband calls "one-bite apples". I love anything in miniature, even fruit! The mini-pumpkin and the lady apples came from my local food co-op. The fall leaves, the acorn, and the buckeye arrived lovingly hand-packed with some treasures from my sister in Pennsylvania. She knows that I get homesick for the maple-covered hills of my home state and the essence of autumn at this time of year. Grazie, Cinzia!
The Dog Days of Summer are here, although it has been quite comfortable here in Southern California lately. Nothing says summer to me in such a playful way as a riotous sunflower bloom.
This one was part of a thickly planted patch in a local neighborhood that I spied while driving by. I could not resist stopping and documenting its beauty. If you look closely you can see a few bees enjoying its nectar.
During the last summer of my Dad's life (1991), he grew a spectacular sunflower in his garden in Pennsylvania which was easily twice the diameter of the center of this bloom (perhaps 12 inches to this one's 6). We had given him the seeds in the spring and he nurtured his prize with his secret fertilizer--gray water from the kitchen dishpan.
A few days after his untimely accidental death that September, we harvested the sunflower and kept the seeds. My sister fashioned a wire-wrapped charm bracelet for me that included one of the seeds.
My father reveled in nature and it is poignant to me that this last triumph in his garden yielded hollow seed-shells. That sunflower would not be replicated--an irony not lost on his children and family, who still feel his loss, but are uplifted and reminded of him when a sunflower shows its joyous face.
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