Tuesday, packing day on our original schedule. Thankfully, I still get to draw, it would have been a frantic dash for the finish to be done by today.
I am close to finishing the sketches, but I decide that I need more art supplies before beginning the inking and coloring phase.We set out for Sennelier. Once there I scoot upstairs to get more ink pens. Back down stairs other customers have the clerks attention and I shop around. I spy a mail in for a free Sennelier apron with the purchase of 3 tubes of Sennelier acrylics. No problem (a favorite phrase among the French-in English). The problem is limiting myself. All the colors are amazing. I get more than three, there is no way I can stop there.
There is a fellow artist buying lots of paintbrushes. He is elated that most are 20% off this week. I have picked out two upstairs and even though they are not on sale I am happy with my choices and don't feel like switching out or adding to my brush count.
We catch up with a clerk and I ask her for tubes of watercolor and also gauche. These are behind the counter, no self serve as with many of the items. I then ask her for protective sheets to safely get the drawings home on the plane. She has trouble with that request but finally figures it out. At last all of my supplies are assembled and we check out.
On our way back to our island we happen upon Eglise St-Germain-des-Prés and decide to stop inside. Cathedrals are always a fascination. A group is practicing for a concert. We sit to listen. Soloists, a choir and an orchestra. We find a flyer and discover that the concert is this very evening. We go to the nave to get tickets. The ticket seller is just leaving for a break. He says that he will be back in twenty minutes. We decide to wait. When he gets back he is surprised to see us waiting. I suppose he thought we would not have the patience. We get our tickets and more literature. It is an entire summer music series. The next concerts are at Eglise Saint-Louis-en-l'lie right on our little island. Sweet! And we'll still be in town.
We walk on toward home along Blvd St-Germain. I have been keeping my eyes open for a les enfants shop on all our walks but they are not so common as before, at least not where we are. We do spot a health food store and get some things for dinner.
We cross La Seine at Pont de la Tournelle and as we round the corner onto Rue en St-Louis l'ille we practically run into a wedding party processing down the middle of the street. It is wonderful. Apparently the wedding has just happened in the church and the bride & groom and all of their guests are dancing and singing their way to our end of the island. As soon as one song ends, someone starts up another one. For four blocks we walk alongside the procession, we and many others. Finally at our street and also the end of the island, the wedding procession somewhat disperses. We turn down the street toward home wondering if they are all headed to dinner together somewhere.
We have our health store dinner, tidy up and then it's time for the concert. It is stifling hot in the church. Many buy programs more for their use as fans than for information. Still it is the a hauntingly beautiful presentation of Mozart's Requiem. Paris never disappoints.
Monday, October 04, 2010
Saturday, October 02, 2010
Magic Smile! Paris 19/7/2010 Day Eight
I have read about a new shop, Magic Smile, on My Little Paris and it sounds intriguing. The concept is a tooth whitening process that takes about vingt minutes and then you're good for six months or longer. It's brand new to Paris and we anticipate a wait or maybe even needing an appointment. We try calling but the clerk only speaks limited English and so we decide to take a chance and walk over. It's in the Marais at 13 Rue Saint Sauveur, not so far.
We stroll across Pont Louis Philippe and weave our way over to Rue St Denis. No cars during special hours are the rule along much of this shop lined street. All kinds of shops from bawdy, think Bourbon St, to French fast food line the way. It's funky fun.
We find Magic Smile and quite contrary to our expectations there is only one other customer. We wait while she is set up in her egg chair and then it's our turn. The clerk speaks a little English but is glad for my help to convey to Donny what she means as I slowly figure it out. She tells me I am a good teacher when I suggest bateau to help her remember how to pronounce bottom. She is trying to explain top and bottom in reference to our mouth. She mutters something about lessons. On another trip without a looming art project this could work.
Twenty minutes later we are sparkling whiter. I consider a second treatment as the chemicals and light can only do so much but don't want to make Donny wait and he is finished. Holding your mouth open for twenty minutes is tiring.
We smile our way back to Ile St Louis stopping for a moment in the small park that surrounds the recently refurbished Tour Saint-Jacques at the intersection of Rue de Rivoli and Avenue Victoria.
It must be body enhancement day, as we make a stop at our local pharmacie just a few doors down from our flat to get some French soap for Jenn. The salesgirl sees me eying the Darphin products and begins to chat about them. I am already in love with the line and need little encouragement. She suggests three creams. They are pricey but I know they are the highest quality, still it's an investment. I ask which she would choose if she had to pick but one. All three is her wise reply. Donny says buy them. I figure that the effect of good French creams last longer than fashion. I'll take the creams and shop for fashions on our next trip.
Back upstairs we settle in for the balance of the day, a smooth wine poured by Donny and my drawing tools for some more endless sketching go well together. I draw until late. We are hungry and venture downstairs for a light dinner at our favorite cafe. It is full. We take a chance on the adjacent cafe bigger with more bustle and foot traffic but literally the next tables over.
The people beside us have ordered cokes. A very classy thing if you are French, but for Americans gauche. Donny & I, on a lark, decide to go full American tourist, not for a coke, but for lasagna and cheeseburger. In France. In Paris. Tasted pretty good.
We stroll across Pont Louis Philippe and weave our way over to Rue St Denis. No cars during special hours are the rule along much of this shop lined street. All kinds of shops from bawdy, think Bourbon St, to French fast food line the way. It's funky fun.
We find Magic Smile and quite contrary to our expectations there is only one other customer. We wait while she is set up in her egg chair and then it's our turn. The clerk speaks a little English but is glad for my help to convey to Donny what she means as I slowly figure it out. She tells me I am a good teacher when I suggest bateau to help her remember how to pronounce bottom. She is trying to explain top and bottom in reference to our mouth. She mutters something about lessons. On another trip without a looming art project this could work.
Twenty minutes later we are sparkling whiter. I consider a second treatment as the chemicals and light can only do so much but don't want to make Donny wait and he is finished. Holding your mouth open for twenty minutes is tiring.
We smile our way back to Ile St Louis stopping for a moment in the small park that surrounds the recently refurbished Tour Saint-Jacques at the intersection of Rue de Rivoli and Avenue Victoria.
It must be body enhancement day, as we make a stop at our local pharmacie just a few doors down from our flat to get some French soap for Jenn. The salesgirl sees me eying the Darphin products and begins to chat about them. I am already in love with the line and need little encouragement. She suggests three creams. They are pricey but I know they are the highest quality, still it's an investment. I ask which she would choose if she had to pick but one. All three is her wise reply. Donny says buy them. I figure that the effect of good French creams last longer than fashion. I'll take the creams and shop for fashions on our next trip.
Back upstairs we settle in for the balance of the day, a smooth wine poured by Donny and my drawing tools for some more endless sketching go well together. I draw until late. We are hungry and venture downstairs for a light dinner at our favorite cafe. It is full. We take a chance on the adjacent cafe bigger with more bustle and foot traffic but literally the next tables over.
The people beside us have ordered cokes. A very classy thing if you are French, but for Americans gauche. Donny & I, on a lark, decide to go full American tourist, not for a coke, but for lasagna and cheeseburger. In France. In Paris. Tasted pretty good.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
A Tribute to Virginia
Two more mismatched people could not be imagined.
It was 1970, I was in my second year of teaching at Varina HS and assigned, for the second year, to be yearbook co-sponsor. Sponsoring extra-curricular activities was part of our teacher duties. I suppose you could request an area of interest but since I was on the yearbook staff in high school, it was an okay assignment. Or so I thought until I walked into the room and saw a beautiful but well beyond my age teacher assigned as my partner. This did not look good. The year before I had been paired with a guy teacher that had his opinion of how the book should be put together and as I jumped in mid-year I went with the flow. It was a pretty dreary book but the kids were fun. I was glad to not be with him again. But this teacher looked like trouble. She probably thought the same about me.
It only took about three sentences before Virginia and I discovered that contrary to both our beliefs we no mismatch at all but a match made for each other. Neither of us would settle for anything less than perfect and that was the way it would be. We took the staff to workshop weekends, taught them how to take pictures, crop pictures, write copy and layout a decent book. The staff spent countless hours and days at the Mistr farm, where Slim & Virginia fed us and put up with us, getting everything right. Class time was just not enough.
It worked. Our book went from uninspired to trophy winning in just one year. We were elated. But never one to rest on our laurels, the next year we let the staff go for the big kahuna. They really wanted a tie-dye cover. We checked with our publisher, the American Yearbook Company. Yes, they could build the book with tie-dyed cloth we provided. That's all any of us needed. Nothing was impossible, not even hand tie-dying 500+ yearbook covers. They all looked to me to figure out the logistics, after all I was the art teacher. Easy enough. One step at a time.
We took a weekend field trip to the mountain corduroy fabric outlet where we bought bolts of cheap uncut non-dyed corduroy. Back home in Varina, we cut the cloth into rectangles. Then the dying began. Not to be satisfied with just one color, we had to have two. And so first we gathered by hand one at a time, several spot areas of each of those 500+ rectangles, dipped a spoonful of green dye into the middle and bound the spot with a rubber band. Then more rubber bands were applied to the rectangles until we had a knotted ball of sorts. These were then dropped into huge vats of blue dye. All of this was done on the Mistr's farm using their big kettles set up in the yard. No other way could we have accomplished such a huge task.
After the balls were dyed and removed from the hot dye the rubber bands were removed and each piece ironed flat, boxed and shipped to AYC where they worked their magic and made our yearbook into yet another winner.
Of course, even with the tie-dye cover the book only became a winner with someone like Virginia keeping her sharp pencil at the ready to fix any bad or wrong copy. We were fortunate to have Jim Mahone write most of our copy. His quick wit and way of saying much with just a few words was a dream for any yearbook to have on board. He went so far as to write his copy and captions on graph paper so that he could instantly know how many letters and spaces he had used. His own form of personal computer (his brain) letter count.
Virginia and I remained friends long after I quit teaching to have Emily, which was actually during the great tie-dye experience. I had to quit teaching at four months. I got an extension to stay until six months which coincided with Easter but after that I had to leave. Of course everyone knew I was pregnant but policy was policy. I could have come back the following year but Donny & I were fortunate enough to be able to let me stay home with the kids as they came along.
Donny & I moved into Slim & Virginia's tenant house a few months after Emily was born and there we lived until we bought our first house, just around the corner at 54 Oakland Road, when Emily was 5 and Donald 3.
Slim & Virginia were unique people who crossed generation barriers with ease. They were simply a delightful couple who loved life. Virginia was a go to school and get your degree after the kids are grown mom. So actually she was as new to teaching as I was. We just came in through different doors.
It was 1970, I was in my second year of teaching at Varina HS and assigned, for the second year, to be yearbook co-sponsor. Sponsoring extra-curricular activities was part of our teacher duties. I suppose you could request an area of interest but since I was on the yearbook staff in high school, it was an okay assignment. Or so I thought until I walked into the room and saw a beautiful but well beyond my age teacher assigned as my partner. This did not look good. The year before I had been paired with a guy teacher that had his opinion of how the book should be put together and as I jumped in mid-year I went with the flow. It was a pretty dreary book but the kids were fun. I was glad to not be with him again. But this teacher looked like trouble. She probably thought the same about me.
It only took about three sentences before Virginia and I discovered that contrary to both our beliefs we no mismatch at all but a match made for each other. Neither of us would settle for anything less than perfect and that was the way it would be. We took the staff to workshop weekends, taught them how to take pictures, crop pictures, write copy and layout a decent book. The staff spent countless hours and days at the Mistr farm, where Slim & Virginia fed us and put up with us, getting everything right. Class time was just not enough.
It worked. Our book went from uninspired to trophy winning in just one year. We were elated. But never one to rest on our laurels, the next year we let the staff go for the big kahuna. They really wanted a tie-dye cover. We checked with our publisher, the American Yearbook Company. Yes, they could build the book with tie-dyed cloth we provided. That's all any of us needed. Nothing was impossible, not even hand tie-dying 500+ yearbook covers. They all looked to me to figure out the logistics, after all I was the art teacher. Easy enough. One step at a time.
We took a weekend field trip to the mountain corduroy fabric outlet where we bought bolts of cheap uncut non-dyed corduroy. Back home in Varina, we cut the cloth into rectangles. Then the dying began. Not to be satisfied with just one color, we had to have two. And so first we gathered by hand one at a time, several spot areas of each of those 500+ rectangles, dipped a spoonful of green dye into the middle and bound the spot with a rubber band. Then more rubber bands were applied to the rectangles until we had a knotted ball of sorts. These were then dropped into huge vats of blue dye. All of this was done on the Mistr's farm using their big kettles set up in the yard. No other way could we have accomplished such a huge task.
After the balls were dyed and removed from the hot dye the rubber bands were removed and each piece ironed flat, boxed and shipped to AYC where they worked their magic and made our yearbook into yet another winner.
Of course, even with the tie-dye cover the book only became a winner with someone like Virginia keeping her sharp pencil at the ready to fix any bad or wrong copy. We were fortunate to have Jim Mahone write most of our copy. His quick wit and way of saying much with just a few words was a dream for any yearbook to have on board. He went so far as to write his copy and captions on graph paper so that he could instantly know how many letters and spaces he had used. His own form of personal computer (his brain) letter count.
Virginia and I remained friends long after I quit teaching to have Emily, which was actually during the great tie-dye experience. I had to quit teaching at four months. I got an extension to stay until six months which coincided with Easter but after that I had to leave. Of course everyone knew I was pregnant but policy was policy. I could have come back the following year but Donny & I were fortunate enough to be able to let me stay home with the kids as they came along.
Donny & I moved into Slim & Virginia's tenant house a few months after Emily was born and there we lived until we bought our first house, just around the corner at 54 Oakland Road, when Emily was 5 and Donald 3.
Slim & Virginia were unique people who crossed generation barriers with ease. They were simply a delightful couple who loved life. Virginia was a go to school and get your degree after the kids are grown mom. So actually she was as new to teaching as I was. We just came in through different doors.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Never on Sunday 18/7/10 Day Seven
Sunday brings me back to the drawing table and my never ending never project. The name came about when good friend Katelyn Rea was commenting on orientation at East Carolina. She said so many kids were breathing sighs of relief to be there, proclaiming that the school was their first, second choice. She said she just looked at them and said that it was her never choice. She never wanted to go there. She was even pretty sure that her folks finished her application.
That's it I tell her since my project had been in the conversation too. It's my never project. I never wanted to do it. It just fell into my lap. I do admit that things falling into my lap is my preferred form of work. But even with a project tossed at you there is still a choice. And for this one I was quite content to say that it sounded interesting but no thanks. You know how sometimes you say those things but you're secretly hoping for a different outcome. Well, I really did not care. It was completely fine with me if I was never a part of the project. It was a fun idea, but I had plenty of other things on my schedule.
Well, things didn't exactly turn out like I thought they would. The author's vision of a mother-son collaborative which I firmly supported was off the table. The publisher wanted my work. In a moment of weakness, I had sent the author some sketches to include with her original proposal to the publisher so that it would look fuller, never expecting that to go anywhere.
But go it did and when I finally realized that not only was I the illustrator of choice but also that the book was on track to actually be published, my ego had stepped in and accepted the challenge.
The project had a short deadline made even more so by indecision about the illustrator. Hence, Donny suggested Paris for full focus sketching. Never would I diss that idea. As I got into the project it began to grow on me. I would never have taken it on, ego or no, if I had not been interested. But I was very apprehensive about drawing Santa. He cannot be just thrown out there. He has to look right, really right. The sketch of a Santa scene that I had submitted to the publisher when they asked for more samples still haunts me. It seemed fine at the time, but now when I look at it, I see a pigmy Santa. Just. Wrong.
Today I am pleased. Santa, and the scenes, are looking very good. And I am getting close to the last pages. But enough for one day. We dress for a quick dinner downstairs. We usually eat outside at one of the four two seater tables. But they are all occupied and so we go inside and get a table. Midway through our meal a family comes in. A twenty something who has a Winona Ryder look is among them. I comment to Donny that it is surprising that she would be content to wear an ordinary hoodie in Paris. I wonder if her eyelashes are real, they are so long. Perhaps I stare, I don't know. It's an annoying Jett trait that can cause trouble. They are sitting not exactly next to us, but quite near. It is a very small cafe.
We are eating our dessert when this gal pops up from her seat (I never saw this) and suddenly she is in my face shouting did I have a problem with her and some other English words (no cussing) that I do not recall. And she turns and walks away. The family is still eating their dinner. She has moved to a seat farther away from us. Donny and I try not to laugh for fear of offending her more. Donny has just made a comment prior to her outburst about the little sister looking like Wednesday from the Addams Family.
Never a dull moment in Paris.
That's it I tell her since my project had been in the conversation too. It's my never project. I never wanted to do it. It just fell into my lap. I do admit that things falling into my lap is my preferred form of work. But even with a project tossed at you there is still a choice. And for this one I was quite content to say that it sounded interesting but no thanks. You know how sometimes you say those things but you're secretly hoping for a different outcome. Well, I really did not care. It was completely fine with me if I was never a part of the project. It was a fun idea, but I had plenty of other things on my schedule.
Well, things didn't exactly turn out like I thought they would. The author's vision of a mother-son collaborative which I firmly supported was off the table. The publisher wanted my work. In a moment of weakness, I had sent the author some sketches to include with her original proposal to the publisher so that it would look fuller, never expecting that to go anywhere.
But go it did and when I finally realized that not only was I the illustrator of choice but also that the book was on track to actually be published, my ego had stepped in and accepted the challenge.
The project had a short deadline made even more so by indecision about the illustrator. Hence, Donny suggested Paris for full focus sketching. Never would I diss that idea. As I got into the project it began to grow on me. I would never have taken it on, ego or no, if I had not been interested. But I was very apprehensive about drawing Santa. He cannot be just thrown out there. He has to look right, really right. The sketch of a Santa scene that I had submitted to the publisher when they asked for more samples still haunts me. It seemed fine at the time, but now when I look at it, I see a pigmy Santa. Just. Wrong.
Today I am pleased. Santa, and the scenes, are looking very good. And I am getting close to the last pages. But enough for one day. We dress for a quick dinner downstairs. We usually eat outside at one of the four two seater tables. But they are all occupied and so we go inside and get a table. Midway through our meal a family comes in. A twenty something who has a Winona Ryder look is among them. I comment to Donny that it is surprising that she would be content to wear an ordinary hoodie in Paris. I wonder if her eyelashes are real, they are so long. Perhaps I stare, I don't know. It's an annoying Jett trait that can cause trouble. They are sitting not exactly next to us, but quite near. It is a very small cafe.
We are eating our dessert when this gal pops up from her seat (I never saw this) and suddenly she is in my face shouting did I have a problem with her and some other English words (no cussing) that I do not recall. And she turns and walks away. The family is still eating their dinner. She has moved to a seat farther away from us. Donny and I try not to laugh for fear of offending her more. Donny has just made a comment prior to her outburst about the little sister looking like Wednesday from the Addams Family.
Never a dull moment in Paris.
Friday, September 10, 2010
A Walkin' in Paris 17/7/10 Day Six
A day off! I have been drawing almost steadily for four days straight. Time. For. A. Break.
Even though I have not finished blocking in the entire book, I am close enough to the end to finally treat myself to a big set of Sennelier pastels. Em & fam gave me a nice set for Christmas but I did not want to pack them plus I wanted to see what Paris offered.
First it's off to Sennelier located along the Seine on the fringes of the Left Bank. It is such a wonderful art store. Emily & I shopped here when she & Marty brought me to Paris. The store reminds Donny & me of Welch-Anderson, a former art store in Richmond where you could buy anything and everything related to art. The aisles were tiny and the shelves full of all sorts of art wonderment.
A nice walk along the river brings us to Sennelier and the shopping begins. Most of the clerks do not speak English so there is a lot of gesturing and pointing. The aisles are even smaller than Welch-Anderson's, the only thing spacious here being the high ceilings. The stairs are tiny, circular events. Donny elects to wait while I go up to the second and third floors seeing what is available up there. I locate the disposable ink pens on the third floor and make my selection. The clerk needs to write up a ticket for me to present downstairs at the main counter. There I explain that I want pastels. Whole, half? Oil, water? The clerk brings me a box. Bigger, I indicate. He brings another. Again, bigger. He smiles and heads to the storage room where he returns with the perfect size box. I select a few tubes of watercolor too because my home supply is low. We pay and head across the Seine toward Rue de Rivoli and Angelina's.
It's hot chocolate time at Proust's favorite watering hole. We get a pot of Chocolat African plus a Mont Blanc to share and later partake of cafe to ease the massive sugar intake.
By this time it is close to dix-sept heures and we are worried that Fachon will close before we can get there. We are on an herb acquisition mission. It is not far and we start power walking. We round a bend of a side street and spy what we decide is the Palais Garnier also known as the Opera. We need to be near La Madeleine which is a few blocks to the left of the Opera. We start walking faster. The streets are like bicycle spokes and you cannot see what is around a corner or even if you are headed in the right direction. We have a map and try to consult it while still walking. We identify where we are and come out around the square from Fachon. To the right is La Madeleine looking suspiciously like the building we had hastily identified as the Opera. Suddenly I remember, the Opera de Paris has a dome, this building does not. We were in the right place before!
We rush around the circle and into Fachon. There is only prepared food for sale. I ask a clerk where the herbs are. Across the way she points. We have sailed right by the part of Fachon we need. It is only two stores away. We hurry over and in. Ah. Not much time to spare though. We know what we want and find the herb section. We are sad to see the fun pottery containers are now glass. I ask and the clerk says that it is true, the low fire ceramic pots are a thing of the past. We make our purchase helping to close the store.
We stroll homeward along Rue de Rivoli. We see many Art Deco buildings with the Samaritaine marque. Cousins I suppose to the main store that graced the Seine before it was closed in 2005. We pass Cafe Benjamin and take a picture for Benjamin. We reach Pont Louis Phillippe and cross to home where we unload and head downstairs for dinner.
Not once did I pick up a pencil today! Yay!
Even though I have not finished blocking in the entire book, I am close enough to the end to finally treat myself to a big set of Sennelier pastels. Em & fam gave me a nice set for Christmas but I did not want to pack them plus I wanted to see what Paris offered.
First it's off to Sennelier located along the Seine on the fringes of the Left Bank. It is such a wonderful art store. Emily & I shopped here when she & Marty brought me to Paris. The store reminds Donny & me of Welch-Anderson, a former art store in Richmond where you could buy anything and everything related to art. The aisles were tiny and the shelves full of all sorts of art wonderment.
A nice walk along the river brings us to Sennelier and the shopping begins. Most of the clerks do not speak English so there is a lot of gesturing and pointing. The aisles are even smaller than Welch-Anderson's, the only thing spacious here being the high ceilings. The stairs are tiny, circular events. Donny elects to wait while I go up to the second and third floors seeing what is available up there. I locate the disposable ink pens on the third floor and make my selection. The clerk needs to write up a ticket for me to present downstairs at the main counter. There I explain that I want pastels. Whole, half? Oil, water? The clerk brings me a box. Bigger, I indicate. He brings another. Again, bigger. He smiles and heads to the storage room where he returns with the perfect size box. I select a few tubes of watercolor too because my home supply is low. We pay and head across the Seine toward Rue de Rivoli and Angelina's.
It's hot chocolate time at Proust's favorite watering hole. We get a pot of Chocolat African plus a Mont Blanc to share and later partake of cafe to ease the massive sugar intake.
By this time it is close to dix-sept heures and we are worried that Fachon will close before we can get there. We are on an herb acquisition mission. It is not far and we start power walking. We round a bend of a side street and spy what we decide is the Palais Garnier also known as the Opera. We need to be near La Madeleine which is a few blocks to the left of the Opera. We start walking faster. The streets are like bicycle spokes and you cannot see what is around a corner or even if you are headed in the right direction. We have a map and try to consult it while still walking. We identify where we are and come out around the square from Fachon. To the right is La Madeleine looking suspiciously like the building we had hastily identified as the Opera. Suddenly I remember, the Opera de Paris has a dome, this building does not. We were in the right place before!
We rush around the circle and into Fachon. There is only prepared food for sale. I ask a clerk where the herbs are. Across the way she points. We have sailed right by the part of Fachon we need. It is only two stores away. We hurry over and in. Ah. Not much time to spare though. We know what we want and find the herb section. We are sad to see the fun pottery containers are now glass. I ask and the clerk says that it is true, the low fire ceramic pots are a thing of the past. We make our purchase helping to close the store.
We stroll homeward along Rue de Rivoli. We see many Art Deco buildings with the Samaritaine marque. Cousins I suppose to the main store that graced the Seine before it was closed in 2005. We pass Cafe Benjamin and take a picture for Benjamin. We reach Pont Louis Phillippe and cross to home where we unload and head downstairs for dinner.
Not once did I pick up a pencil today! Yay!
Tuesday, September 07, 2010
Paris 16/7/2010 Day Five
I am very excited to have dreamed how to present the traditional Santaland scene in a new light. This part of the book was tentatively supposed to be illustrations of chairs and decorations but that format was just not evolving to my satisfaction and so I opted to cover all the bases by showing the entire scene instead of vinettes. That was coming together better but still not creative enough for children and it was really bothering me when I went to sleep. It was so blah.
Now, I position the refreshed reindeer in the foreground viewing the newly created Santaland with utter delight. Blitzen is trying to tell her good friend the Snow Queen (she is going to be Maid of Honor in the Snow Queen's wedding) an idea that she dreamed about for the wedding but the Snow Queen is so enchanted over her new chair that she does not hear her. The other reindeer are talking among themselves oohing and aahing over everything they see. The drawing is perfect! Still so many pages to go though, including the line. I could draw out of sequence but choose to follow the story thread as it unfolds so I am only halfway there.
Donny has a plan. "Let's stay longer."
I am delighted. "What do you have in mind?"
"Well, if we stay until Friday that is only two more days but the following Monday will let us see the end of the Tour de France."
"And allow time to complete the illustrations in Paris," I have already resigned to putting color on back at home although I want to buy supplies in France. "Let's do it!"
"What about your show?"
"I'll call Glenn and let them know." I have two big prints yet to pull but Glenn had said that Jason might pull one and if that happens good, if not, no worries. Like Pat says, I'm easy to get along with.
Donny gets to work making the ticket changes and I make a few phone calls. Everyone is surprised to get a call from Paris. Mobile goes right through. Mindful of the cost all chats are quick and to the point.
I get a text from Jessica asking about the art show. It is fun to text her back that we are in Paris.
Later in the day we venture out for a stretch. After all, hours of art broken only for some erotic moments (we are in Paris, we must keep up with the lovers) need a change of pace.
We view the stunning sunset from our bridge. We wander across to the Right Bank and stroll a bit. Finally we settle on Chez Julien for dinner. It's late but everyone eats very late on weekends. We pick an outside table and proceed to have a delightful and very French meal.
Later after cafe and paying we start across the rue toward home. Suddenly I decide to take a picture of the restaurant, it looks so charming. We turn back. Our waiter is finished for the evening and is enjoying a smoke. He tells us that Chez Julien was the setting for the filming of a Gossip Girls episode last week. We ask if he was in it. He tells us no but doesn't seem disappointed. He suggests that we go inside and look around. He tells us that the restaurant has been in that location since the turn of the century. He also tells us the Paris Plages are due to open on Sunday, just across the way. Bikini time!
Now, I position the refreshed reindeer in the foreground viewing the newly created Santaland with utter delight. Blitzen is trying to tell her good friend the Snow Queen (she is going to be Maid of Honor in the Snow Queen's wedding) an idea that she dreamed about for the wedding but the Snow Queen is so enchanted over her new chair that she does not hear her. The other reindeer are talking among themselves oohing and aahing over everything they see. The drawing is perfect! Still so many pages to go though, including the line. I could draw out of sequence but choose to follow the story thread as it unfolds so I am only halfway there.
Donny has a plan. "Let's stay longer."
I am delighted. "What do you have in mind?"
"Well, if we stay until Friday that is only two more days but the following Monday will let us see the end of the Tour de France."
"And allow time to complete the illustrations in Paris," I have already resigned to putting color on back at home although I want to buy supplies in France. "Let's do it!"
"What about your show?"
"I'll call Glenn and let them know." I have two big prints yet to pull but Glenn had said that Jason might pull one and if that happens good, if not, no worries. Like Pat says, I'm easy to get along with.
Donny gets to work making the ticket changes and I make a few phone calls. Everyone is surprised to get a call from Paris. Mobile goes right through. Mindful of the cost all chats are quick and to the point.
I get a text from Jessica asking about the art show. It is fun to text her back that we are in Paris.
Later in the day we venture out for a stretch. After all, hours of art broken only for some erotic moments (we are in Paris, we must keep up with the lovers) need a change of pace.
We view the stunning sunset from our bridge. We wander across to the Right Bank and stroll a bit. Finally we settle on Chez Julien for dinner. It's late but everyone eats very late on weekends. We pick an outside table and proceed to have a delightful and very French meal.
Later after cafe and paying we start across the rue toward home. Suddenly I decide to take a picture of the restaurant, it looks so charming. We turn back. Our waiter is finished for the evening and is enjoying a smoke. He tells us that Chez Julien was the setting for the filming of a Gossip Girls episode last week. We ask if he was in it. He tells us no but doesn't seem disappointed. He suggests that we go inside and look around. He tells us that the restaurant has been in that location since the turn of the century. He also tells us the Paris Plages are due to open on Sunday, just across the way. Bikini time!
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Paris 15/7/2010 Day Four
Back to our Paris on a Whim adventure.
This turns out to be the longest working day yet. We venture out once. I decide that I need a hat to keep the inspiration going. We find a fun floral one on sale at Le Grain de Sable, une boutique d'accessories de mode sacs, bijoux, chaupeux at Rue Saint-Louis-en-l'Ile.
Back in the flat, I work and work. Reindeer have so many legs! And they must look like reindeer not dogs. I am good with some animals but reindeer are a whole new game. I am sketching in the art frames at this point. Pencil only, and erasing, lots of erasing.
Donny sits quietly not breaking my concentration. I get so into the frame that my mind has conversations with the characters. Vixen is annoyed that her manicure and pedicure are suffering with all the touring they are doing. Prancer, her good friend and flying companion, tells her to get a grip. She'll treat Vixen to both when they get home.
Donner & Blitzen are just not coming together like I want and so I move on to the next frame which involves the team again but smaller and is almost a repeat of a sample I sent to THP earlier.
Sketch, sketch, sketch. My goal is to have the pencil drawings done by the weekend and then allow myself the treat of going to the art store for pastels to add the color.
The photos have come for the store scenes and I block those in. The clock scene is not working out well and when I finally get it to my satisfaction, the clock, which is really high on the wall, has moved out of the picture. I like what I have blocked in and since the information desk is there I decide that, time being of the essence, everyone will know where they are anyway. It was a popular M&R meeting spot, although our family preferred meeting on the balcony which was a great relaxing spot to meet, not so the busy clock area.
We take a dinner break, going downstairs to the tiny cafe next door for a quick bite. Then it's back to my beautiful hat and eternal drawing. Whoever decided that a 50/50 profit split between writer and artist for a childrens' book was an equitable split definitely was the writer.
This turns out to be the longest working day yet. We venture out once. I decide that I need a hat to keep the inspiration going. We find a fun floral one on sale at Le Grain de Sable, une boutique d'accessories de mode sacs, bijoux, chaupeux at Rue Saint-Louis-en-l'Ile.
Back in the flat, I work and work. Reindeer have so many legs! And they must look like reindeer not dogs. I am good with some animals but reindeer are a whole new game. I am sketching in the art frames at this point. Pencil only, and erasing, lots of erasing.
Donny sits quietly not breaking my concentration. I get so into the frame that my mind has conversations with the characters. Vixen is annoyed that her manicure and pedicure are suffering with all the touring they are doing. Prancer, her good friend and flying companion, tells her to get a grip. She'll treat Vixen to both when they get home.
Donner & Blitzen are just not coming together like I want and so I move on to the next frame which involves the team again but smaller and is almost a repeat of a sample I sent to THP earlier.
Sketch, sketch, sketch. My goal is to have the pencil drawings done by the weekend and then allow myself the treat of going to the art store for pastels to add the color.
The photos have come for the store scenes and I block those in. The clock scene is not working out well and when I finally get it to my satisfaction, the clock, which is really high on the wall, has moved out of the picture. I like what I have blocked in and since the information desk is there I decide that, time being of the essence, everyone will know where they are anyway. It was a popular M&R meeting spot, although our family preferred meeting on the balcony which was a great relaxing spot to meet, not so the busy clock area.
We take a dinner break, going downstairs to the tiny cafe next door for a quick bite. Then it's back to my beautiful hat and eternal drawing. Whoever decided that a 50/50 profit split between writer and artist for a childrens' book was an equitable split definitely was the writer.
Tuna & Lion
They really do look out for each other but there are times, many times by cousin Jake's reckoning, that it is not so apparent.
This clip from The Other Guy starts slow but gets rolling pretty quickly. And when it does, it describes their personalities better than any words could.
Donny, Jake and I took in this movie the day after the younger campers left. Jake and I exchanged knowing glances as the tuna & lion scene unfolded. Yup, Martin and Lydia to a tee.
Every time I watch it now, it brings up a big chuckle. Martin will go to great extremes to cover his story. And Lydia usually has that Mark Wahlberg's character look but gets in the last punch.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Some Kind of Animal
Taking a break from writing about Paris adventures while Camp OBX is in session, I feel the need to add this one to the blog thread.
Leaving Jockey's Ridge today where we had lots of fun doing the usual Jockey's Ridge things; climbing dunes, running down dunes. sliding down dunes, writing in the sand, all the traditional things, we decide to take the sand route alongside the boardwalk back to the car.
It is a compromise from Jake's need to trudge some more in the sand and Lydia's need to get back fast. Martin, for once, does not care. When we run out of the sand trail, we proceed to climb over the rail. At about this juncture a small kid, 3 years or so, comes along going to the dunes with his folks.
He shrieks and points, "What kind of animal is that?"
In his low key non-excitable voice, Jake says to me, "I think he is talking about us."
I then say to young one and his family, "Dirty human animals."
Lydia, the last one over the rail and stuck on top at this point, which probably initiated the kid's reaction, yells, "Grandma, you're embarrassing me!"
Leaving Jockey's Ridge today where we had lots of fun doing the usual Jockey's Ridge things; climbing dunes, running down dunes. sliding down dunes, writing in the sand, all the traditional things, we decide to take the sand route alongside the boardwalk back to the car.
It is a compromise from Jake's need to trudge some more in the sand and Lydia's need to get back fast. Martin, for once, does not care. When we run out of the sand trail, we proceed to climb over the rail. At about this juncture a small kid, 3 years or so, comes along going to the dunes with his folks.
He shrieks and points, "What kind of animal is that?"
In his low key non-excitable voice, Jake says to me, "I think he is talking about us."
I then say to young one and his family, "Dirty human animals."
Lydia, the last one over the rail and stuck on top at this point, which probably initiated the kid's reaction, yells, "Grandma, you're embarrassing me!"
Monday, August 02, 2010
Paris 14/7/2010 Day Three
It's Bastille Day or as the French call it 14 Juillet. We have been reminded about the official day of celebration by Donny's bff, Dale. Donny says that besides his immediate family, he has known no one else as long as he has known gal pal Dale.
Thanks to Dale's heads up, Donny has made reservations for us at Restaurant 58 on the first level of the Tour Eiffel for the evening so that we can see the fireworks from the tower.
Our day starts with us being awakened to the sounds of planes droning overhead. It seems as though they are going to land in our street. I leap out of bed shouting, "It's a fly over!"
And it is. I grab my iphone and my camera and get some wonderful shots. Because of the view from our window up through the surrounding buildings it makes me think of how the French must have felt during the war. The flyover is spread out over about an hour because the weather is so bad, we later find out, that they have to wait for a clearing in the cloud cover.
I work until it is time to dress for dinner. Donny has hired a cab which meets us downstairs. The cab driver has an awful time getting us close to the tower because streets are blocked off for the firework display due to start at 11PM. We don't mind walking and get to see a very eclectic building covered deliberately in growing plants.
We reach the tower and check in at the Restaurant 58 ticket window. We are told that we will be riding up in the employees' elevator because the tower is closed to the general public today because of the fireworks. We are escorted into the guts of the tower where the elevator is located. There are other people also going to dinner and lots of service people. The ride up is impressive. The elevator is glass so we can see everything.
Donny tried to get us a window table but they were all sold out but he was assured that we would have a good view and we do. Dinner is quite exotic. It is a planned menu so all we need do is eat. Which is almost hard to do because the presentation is so beautiful. The food tastes as good as it looks and we nibble and sip our way through all the courses finishing just in time for the firework display. It gets dark so late that 23 hours in not an unreasonable time for the display to start.
It is amazing looking down on fireworks. Some explode at window level, some below and a few above. It is quite a production and we are glad not to have missed it, although a French gentleman at the table next to us says that it is not as good as last year's.
We plan to hail a cab to take us back to Ile St Louis after dinner but that proves difficult. It is a chilly evening and I buy a scarf from a street vendor. We ask how far it is to walk to Ile St Louis. He tells us far but not complicated, go to the corner, turn right and keep walking. It turns out to be a pleasant walk and not really all that long, about 5 kilometers.
Sunday, August 01, 2010
Paris 13/7/2010 Day Two
We sleep until we awaken, around midday sometime, maybe later. I do not remember and we don't care. We are not on anyone's clock but our own. We have been to Paris enough times by now to be able to truly enjoy the flavor of the city without rushing around to see the famous highlights.
And besides it's time to get to work. This is after all a working vacation. Sight unseen my remarkable husband has procured us an apartment with not only north light but also a perfect art table.
The table, which is actually a dining table, adjusts in height and also the top folds out to double the size. The top then is cleverly rotated so that the legs remain centered. We know how to do this from recently figuring out the secret to my grandmother's card table which does the same thing.
At first I had set my things up at the desk in the corner, nice but not facing the window, when I happened to take a harder look at the table which was folded and low serving as a coffee table. This unfolds I think and then Donny discovers that the height can be adjusted. We set it to our liking and are delighted that there is room for me to spread out and Donny to set up his computer.
Like I said sight unseen he has found us the perfect apartment for this trip. He did request an inside apartment overlooking a courtyard which is completely wonderful. But the rest just came together.
I work for a few hours and then we head out for groceries. I have started the project while at home but got stopped by lack of reference material. For this book I needed photos of Miller & Rhoads during the 1940's or as close as possible. And because of the impending deadline I needed easy to identify departments within the store. The folks at the Virginia Historical Society had been most helpful in getting me these types of pictures but with vacations and such I had not been able to get the digital files I needed before I left. Since their preferred method of payment was by phone and since by now I was out of the country I did not want to make a call if I could help it. So Jamie said he would do what he could to get me a secure way to use my credit card and I believed him but I was still waiting. So I put away my work early.
We are more awake today and find our favorite grocery located not far at all from our flat. We buy more supplies and then fresh bread from the bakery across the street. We take our groceries home in our own tote we have brought to be more ecological responsible and unpack. Later we go out again strolling and stopping at one of our favorite restaurants on the island, Auberge de la Rhine Blanche, for dinner.
It did not disappoint although we were sad not to see our good friend who always waits on us. The girl that did wait on us, did not speak enough English to understand that we were asking about our friend so we do not know if she was on holiday or what. She owned the restaurant with her husband who was still there cooking but we never met him and so perhaps next trip she will be back. They do have children so maybe she is doing things with them.
After dinner and more strolling we stop in a bar for a nightcap of cognac. We wanted Remy Martin but settled for what was available and it was quite nice. While we were sipping our drink, two guys came in and ordered Jaeger bombs, a shot of Jaeger and Red Bull. I have heard about these but never seen one mixed. They way they did it was fun. The bartender put the Red Bull into two glasses then floated a shot glass of Jaeger in each full glass. These were lined up touching side by side. Then an empty glass was turned upside down beside the set ups. One guy hits the empty glass which causes the shots to tip into the Red Bull. The drinkers grab up their glasses and down the entire mix just like a shot. They did this twice and seeing my intrigue invited us to join them but we declined.
And besides it's time to get to work. This is after all a working vacation. Sight unseen my remarkable husband has procured us an apartment with not only north light but also a perfect art table.
The table, which is actually a dining table, adjusts in height and also the top folds out to double the size. The top then is cleverly rotated so that the legs remain centered. We know how to do this from recently figuring out the secret to my grandmother's card table which does the same thing.
At first I had set my things up at the desk in the corner, nice but not facing the window, when I happened to take a harder look at the table which was folded and low serving as a coffee table. This unfolds I think and then Donny discovers that the height can be adjusted. We set it to our liking and are delighted that there is room for me to spread out and Donny to set up his computer.
Like I said sight unseen he has found us the perfect apartment for this trip. He did request an inside apartment overlooking a courtyard which is completely wonderful. But the rest just came together.
I work for a few hours and then we head out for groceries. I have started the project while at home but got stopped by lack of reference material. For this book I needed photos of Miller & Rhoads during the 1940's or as close as possible. And because of the impending deadline I needed easy to identify departments within the store. The folks at the Virginia Historical Society had been most helpful in getting me these types of pictures but with vacations and such I had not been able to get the digital files I needed before I left. Since their preferred method of payment was by phone and since by now I was out of the country I did not want to make a call if I could help it. So Jamie said he would do what he could to get me a secure way to use my credit card and I believed him but I was still waiting. So I put away my work early.
We are more awake today and find our favorite grocery located not far at all from our flat. We buy more supplies and then fresh bread from the bakery across the street. We take our groceries home in our own tote we have brought to be more ecological responsible and unpack. Later we go out again strolling and stopping at one of our favorite restaurants on the island, Auberge de la Rhine Blanche, for dinner.
It did not disappoint although we were sad not to see our good friend who always waits on us. The girl that did wait on us, did not speak enough English to understand that we were asking about our friend so we do not know if she was on holiday or what. She owned the restaurant with her husband who was still there cooking but we never met him and so perhaps next trip she will be back. They do have children so maybe she is doing things with them.
After dinner and more strolling we stop in a bar for a nightcap of cognac. We wanted Remy Martin but settled for what was available and it was quite nice. While we were sipping our drink, two guys came in and ordered Jaeger bombs, a shot of Jaeger and Red Bull. I have heard about these but never seen one mixed. They way they did it was fun. The bartender put the Red Bull into two glasses then floated a shot glass of Jaeger in each full glass. These were lined up touching side by side. Then an empty glass was turned upside down beside the set ups. One guy hits the empty glass which causes the shots to tip into the Red Bull. The drinkers grab up their glasses and down the entire mix just like a shot. They did this twice and seeing my intrigue invited us to join them but we declined.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Paris! 12/7/2010 Day One
We've made it to Paris, finally! Donny has rented us a wonderful apartment at 12 rue Jean du Bellay on Ile St Louis. It is on the second floor, actually third, and overlooks an interior courtyard. We have taken a night flight from DC via Air France traveling the new class, Premium Voyageur, which means leg room for my tall guy.
The flight is fine but the plane sounds like a bucket of bolts. Still I'm not worried just tired. I sleep most of the way. We land on time and after getting our bags which beat us off the plane, another bonus from Premium Voyageur travel, we head onto the concourse for the trains. It's a long walk but not a problem. We locate the RER ticket booth after walking around the huge room completely. We cannot get tickets at a kiosk because we do not have a European credit card which has a chip. We only have an American credit cards with the magnetic strip. The line is really long but there is nothing to do but queue up and so I do, sending Donny to find a bench because it's really hot and I can manage the line okay. No need for him to melt.
After being in line for about fifteen minutes I discover that I am in the line for out of town tickets and quickly switch to the line for tickets into Paris, which is much shorter. I get our tickets and we go to the train level. We want an express RER and think we are getting on one which we are, but it turns out to be a very slow express. We almost may as well have taken a local.
We eventually reach our stop, St Michel. By this time the train is packed, but we wiggle our way off with our luggage and randomly chose the sortie that is the farthest away from our destination. Ah well, it is a balmy afternoon in Paris and we have notified Eric that we will be running a bit late. At first we are slightly confused as to our orientation. I know we are near the Seine but cannot see it and we are so tired that we really don't want to take any steps in the wrong direction. We make a choice and a half a block along we clear a tall building to see a great sight, Notre Dame close by.
We are only about a block away from the church and Ile St Louis is just beyond. We are traveling pretty lightly considering what we see some people with and in no time meet up with Eric who introduces us to the apartment, our new home in Paris for 10 days.
We settle in and hop downstairs for a bit of dinner at the next door tiny cafe and take a short stroll around part of the island. We find a green grocer but it is not our favorite one, still it's handy and we buy a few items before heading home to bed. it's hard to believe that a day earlier we were driving to Washington from the OBX. It is a hot evening. There is no air conditioning but we do have a fan, and two large almost floor to ceiling windows that swing open. We are happy for that. We fall asleep to the sounds of the city. Happy Birthday, Emily!!
The flight is fine but the plane sounds like a bucket of bolts. Still I'm not worried just tired. I sleep most of the way. We land on time and after getting our bags which beat us off the plane, another bonus from Premium Voyageur travel, we head onto the concourse for the trains. It's a long walk but not a problem. We locate the RER ticket booth after walking around the huge room completely. We cannot get tickets at a kiosk because we do not have a European credit card which has a chip. We only have an American credit cards with the magnetic strip. The line is really long but there is nothing to do but queue up and so I do, sending Donny to find a bench because it's really hot and I can manage the line okay. No need for him to melt.
After being in line for about fifteen minutes I discover that I am in the line for out of town tickets and quickly switch to the line for tickets into Paris, which is much shorter. I get our tickets and we go to the train level. We want an express RER and think we are getting on one which we are, but it turns out to be a very slow express. We almost may as well have taken a local.
We eventually reach our stop, St Michel. By this time the train is packed, but we wiggle our way off with our luggage and randomly chose the sortie that is the farthest away from our destination. Ah well, it is a balmy afternoon in Paris and we have notified Eric that we will be running a bit late. At first we are slightly confused as to our orientation. I know we are near the Seine but cannot see it and we are so tired that we really don't want to take any steps in the wrong direction. We make a choice and a half a block along we clear a tall building to see a great sight, Notre Dame close by.
We are only about a block away from the church and Ile St Louis is just beyond. We are traveling pretty lightly considering what we see some people with and in no time meet up with Eric who introduces us to the apartment, our new home in Paris for 10 days.
We settle in and hop downstairs for a bit of dinner at the next door tiny cafe and take a short stroll around part of the island. We find a green grocer but it is not our favorite one, still it's handy and we buy a few items before heading home to bed. it's hard to believe that a day earlier we were driving to Washington from the OBX. It is a hot evening. There is no air conditioning but we do have a fan, and two large almost floor to ceiling windows that swing open. We are happy for that. We fall asleep to the sounds of the city. Happy Birthday, Emily!!
Friday, June 04, 2010
Letters Home
I originally posted this story on Facebook but wanted to add it to my blog postings. There are two parts. First is a small series of letters home which I recently came across in stuff from Mom's estate. The second part is about the room I was living in when I wrote the notes home.
To set the scene, in 1964 between my sophomore and junior years at RPI (now VCU and huge, but then small and housed for the most part in turn of the century former homes in Richmond's fan district), I stuck around for summer school. Here are some hilarious excerpts from letters home (the family was in the DC area and we did not make many phone calls. Dad couldn't bear to pay long distance rates and so communication was almost always by letter).
First letter: "Well, got settled, but I am about to go blind. I guess I'll go to Sears tomorrow and get a study lamp. Also do you have any curtains? I can use just cafe type. Never mind about the lamp. I found one in the maid's closet. I need a fan. Do you still have that tiny one? Are you using it? If not could you send it by someone sometime soon." The letter goes on to talk about my room. I was living in Scherer Hall, pictured above, on the second floor in a single room directly over the front entrance and overlooking Franklin Street. It had a sink in the closet which was almost as big as the room itself which was small but adequate. I hand picked the room, mostly for the sink. It was great to be able to brush your teeth or do your hand washing without going down the hall to the community bathroom. A friend had lived in it and was graduating and so it was available for summer school.
Second letter: "Don't you ever talk to me about writing again. Not only have I been looking for a letter but also my grades. You know I want them when they come. I'm about to die of heat because you haven't let me know about the fan. I'm giving a lovely view to all of Franklin Street because you haven't let me know about the curtains." (then there is chatter about different summer job interviews and how all of that is going. I was always on the edge of running out of money. In one later letter I tell about dropping a class, one I really liked too, because we had to buy a year's worth of supplies up front). Back to this letter, after suggesting that my parents take my sister and brother to see a current movie I think they will enjoy, it closes with, "Don't look for any more letters from me until I get one."
The third letter is very long and chats about classes and the continued job searches. And there is conversation about my regular year dorm mates that live across the street for the summer in an apartment in one of those old grand houses. It ends with, "PS PLEASE (lots of underlines) see about fan. It was only 100 degrees today and VERY (more underlines) humid. Love, Me"
There are many more letters. I wrote a LOT of letters and I think Mom saved them all. Everyone saved them. Donny's sister, Judy, sent us a bunch when she closed up former mother-in-law, Irene's, home. It seems that I wrote her many letters after the children started coming along telling her about what they were doing and so forth. Always a writer apparently, that's me.
The story about my room unfolds like this. One night I put some clothes in the closet sink to soak; but, I by mistake did not completely turn off the water. I was awakened the next morning by a frantic maid banging on my door. I lept out of bed into literally inches of water (no exaggeration). The maid tells me that there is water dripping from the ceiling of the parlor underneath my room. I truly do not remember how we got all the water off the floor. I somewhat remember getting a broom and sweeping the water into the hall, spreading it out until it was shallow enough to mop up. The maid took pity on me and helped. I was so worried that there would be a stain on the ceiling below, or that the electrical system would be compromised and I would be caught without a good explanation other than neglect. But no one was ever the wiser, thanks to the maid and my tell tale drip. My record collection which I had standing in a stack on the floor even survived without any warping.
Until next installment,
Sandy
To set the scene, in 1964 between my sophomore and junior years at RPI (now VCU and huge, but then small and housed for the most part in turn of the century former homes in Richmond's fan district), I stuck around for summer school. Here are some hilarious excerpts from letters home (the family was in the DC area and we did not make many phone calls. Dad couldn't bear to pay long distance rates and so communication was almost always by letter).
First letter: "Well, got settled, but I am about to go blind. I guess I'll go to Sears tomorrow and get a study lamp. Also do you have any curtains? I can use just cafe type. Never mind about the lamp. I found one in the maid's closet. I need a fan. Do you still have that tiny one? Are you using it? If not could you send it by someone sometime soon." The letter goes on to talk about my room. I was living in Scherer Hall, pictured above, on the second floor in a single room directly over the front entrance and overlooking Franklin Street. It had a sink in the closet which was almost as big as the room itself which was small but adequate. I hand picked the room, mostly for the sink. It was great to be able to brush your teeth or do your hand washing without going down the hall to the community bathroom. A friend had lived in it and was graduating and so it was available for summer school.
Second letter: "Don't you ever talk to me about writing again. Not only have I been looking for a letter but also my grades. You know I want them when they come. I'm about to die of heat because you haven't let me know about the fan. I'm giving a lovely view to all of Franklin Street because you haven't let me know about the curtains." (then there is chatter about different summer job interviews and how all of that is going. I was always on the edge of running out of money. In one later letter I tell about dropping a class, one I really liked too, because we had to buy a year's worth of supplies up front). Back to this letter, after suggesting that my parents take my sister and brother to see a current movie I think they will enjoy, it closes with, "Don't look for any more letters from me until I get one."
The third letter is very long and chats about classes and the continued job searches. And there is conversation about my regular year dorm mates that live across the street for the summer in an apartment in one of those old grand houses. It ends with, "PS PLEASE (lots of underlines) see about fan. It was only 100 degrees today and VERY (more underlines) humid. Love, Me"
There are many more letters. I wrote a LOT of letters and I think Mom saved them all. Everyone saved them. Donny's sister, Judy, sent us a bunch when she closed up former mother-in-law, Irene's, home. It seems that I wrote her many letters after the children started coming along telling her about what they were doing and so forth. Always a writer apparently, that's me.
The story about my room unfolds like this. One night I put some clothes in the closet sink to soak; but, I by mistake did not completely turn off the water. I was awakened the next morning by a frantic maid banging on my door. I lept out of bed into literally inches of water (no exaggeration). The maid tells me that there is water dripping from the ceiling of the parlor underneath my room. I truly do not remember how we got all the water off the floor. I somewhat remember getting a broom and sweeping the water into the hall, spreading it out until it was shallow enough to mop up. The maid took pity on me and helped. I was so worried that there would be a stain on the ceiling below, or that the electrical system would be compromised and I would be caught without a good explanation other than neglect. But no one was ever the wiser, thanks to the maid and my tell tale drip. My record collection which I had standing in a stack on the floor even survived without any warping.
Until next installment,
Sandy
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Sisters Overcoming Abusive Relationships

I had the wonderful opportunity to work with a delightful group of ladies this past week. I was invited to guide them in the process of creating self portraits out of odds and ends glued onto a canvas or board.
We first started with a blank canvas and added color to our background. This was optional but everyone loved the idea and no one passed on it.
Next we added three dimensional pieces building around faces that I had brought along. There were more gals than faces so some created their own face with paint or created a representational self portrait, always a fine idea anyway!
Most of these gals while creative had little or no artistic background. But you would never know it from the pieces that evolved. I was so very proud of them, parent proud. They had jumped right in and without hesitation created marvelous masterpieces. It was very special too to see so many of the things I had pitched into my art projects pile become a focal point in the art. Pieces that had sat too many years in a box were suddenly in the limelight. How fun!
These gals really did SOAR on this project.
Friday, September 18, 2009
I Love My Mom
My mom lives in her wonderful little cottage that she built on the waters of the Chesapeake Bay near the fishing village Reedville Virgina. My dad's family hails from here and has since the early 1600's but mom is the one of the two that ended up in this quiet piece of paradise. We visit each other whenever we can make it happen and by phone in between.
Hi Mom! How're you doing.
Oh okay I guess.
What's up?
I don't have cable. Been out since afternoon. Nothing to watch.
Well, how about a dvd?
Won't work. I don't have cable.
You don't need cable to watch a dvd, Mom.
Yes, I do.
Ummm, actually you don't.
You're not listening to me. It won't work. I tried. Hasn't worked since they made me go digital.
Have you watched a movie since then?
Oh yeah, lots of them.
I see.
You're not listening to me. It just won't work.
Did you click the button on your controller to switch from tv to dvd?
I did the same thing I always do. It works when I have cable. I don't have cable. The dvd won't work. I'm tired of looking at fuzz. There's nothing to do. I'm bored.
You really don't need cable to watch a dvd, Mom.
You just are not listening to me. I put the thingy in. I press the button. All I get is fuzz. Here I'll do it now. Wait a second. Okay I'm putting in the dvd. I'm pressing the input button. Oh, Oh! OH!!
Me to Donny, Mom's having an orgasm, or the dvd is working.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Peter, Paul & Mary and Me

I first *met* Peter, Paul & Mary when I was a green freshman in college at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio. The monied gals all belonged to Columbia Records Album of the Month Club. You could get their selection or one of your own. Most gals opted for Columbia's selection and so it landed on Peter, Paul & Mary to be the chosen album for September or October 1962, I forget which one, the weather was still nice though. I did not have enough money to buy albums then but got a lot of free listening as most dorm room doors stayed open all of the time.
After college, which involved my moving to Richmond Professional Institute in Richmond, Virginia in my sophomore year as my folks had left Ohio and out of state tuition was pretty steep but more than that my family too far away, I bought every P, P & M album available.
And then, happy day for me, I read that P, P & M are coming to the Mosque, THE venue to be at in Richmond in those years. My apartment and work mate Sherrie and I make plans to go. As the day of the concert approaches our plot thickens. I know the Mosque pretty well. All of our college dances and those of MCV (Medical College of Virginia) were held in the opulent basement ballroom. Concerts of all kinds were held upstairs in the massive domed theater complete with two balconies and box seats. There I saw Bob Dylan, Roger Miller. I weaseled my way into a Sam & Dave concert. The Mosque and I had spent many grand hours together. Back to my P, P & M story. Sherrie & I want to talk to them, meet them, rub shoulders with them after the concert. But we don't want to walk home late at night by ourselves even if our apartment is only a few blocks away. So the afternoon of the concert we park my Carolina blue Volkswagen Beetle, Velma, vintage 1962, in the Mosque proper parking lot. It is legal but there is only room for about a dozen cars.
We are ready! The concert is all that we expect. Just the three of them on that huge stage owning the show. Well there is one more, Dick Kniss, their bass player. He is always introduced but remains well separated from the group even though still on stage. That was it, no fancy lights, good sound but no headsets, acoustic guitars. You know the picture. Simplicity delivering quality music. Then near the end of the sold out concert, Mary announces that as much as they would love to stay and chat, they have to get to Baltimore to catch a plane. They have not one minute to spare. We are all crushed but that was that.
Concert over, Sherrie & I head through the packed crowds thronging the sidewalks. Bumper to bumper traffic clogs the streets surrounding the Mosque. We sigh, we are never going to get out of our tiny parking lot any time soon. Still we forge ahead and beg with Velma's vintage charm to let us out of the lot. Some kind soul does. We are now part of the bumper to bumper traffic. Suddenly a head pops out of the car window in front of us and yells back to me, "Do you know how to get to the interstate?" Sherrie and I gasp! It's Mary!!! P, P & M are (beat) in front of us! They need our help!
"Sure!" I call out. I hand wave them to a quieter side street close by and our cars switch places. I am thinking fast. I never use the interstate much; old car, not much gas, working girl, all spare money spent on music. I think I remember how to get there. We twist and turn through the fan streets. Surely they think I am taking them on a wild goose chase, but what choice do they have? They are trusting...ME!! Completely forgetting about the Belvidere Street on ramp only minutes from the Mosque, I am taking them to the Boulevard Street ramp. It really is fine though because they will have lost no time, we're going in the right direction. We get to Broad Street, only a few blocks more to the Boulevard and I-95. We need to turn left. There is a lit no left turn signal. I wave to them to turn anyway as I am doing, certain a cop is going to ticket us any minute even though there is absolutely no traffic anywhere. We are lucky. No cop, interstate ahead. We scoot onto the on ramp, as they do. They wave as they zoom past us in their snappy new car that can move. We consider following them. But, we have no gas, we have a pathetic car for a chase, we go home. We cannot let it go. A few hours later, we have a plan. We call the Baltimore airport and explain that we need to page Mary Travers. We have a message for her. They page her (this is 1967). Mary comes to the phone, surely thinking something is wrong with her family. No, it's the crazy girls from Richmond. How can we get in touch with you? She is civil. She gives us an address. That's our Mary.
After Donny and I got married we saw them together in Richmond and we even chatted with Mary through the window of her dressing room. Us outside in that same tiny parking lot standing on tip toe on the loading ramp that let you get fairly close to the barred window. Close enough to shout.
We took the kids to see them before we moved to North Carolina, again at the Mosque.
And we saw them one more time at Wolf Trapp in Virginia in the mid 90's. Donny has the cool story this time. He hung out with Paul, for real. I was taking a cranial-sacral training course and as P, P & M were going to be in town we had gotten tickets to the concert. Donny had time on his hands while I was in class. Here is his story about how he spent that time...with Paul Stookey! "In one of the local handout papers I read that Paul was teaching a songwriting class the afternoon before the concert, and I went to it!! There were only 5 or 6 other people there, and mostly we just talked about music." Can you imagine? You and Paul and a handful of other people, sitting around talking about music. How cool is that!
I love you Peter, Paul & Mary. I love the tiny road we traveled together.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Camp OBX Day 21, August 16 2009
It's final packing and goodbye day for all campers!
Wow, camp certainly has flown by. How did that happen?
C discovers that she and Henry are kindred spirits. We print a picture for her of them together even though the printer refuses to print cyan. Thus it looks very artsy.
Suitcases are loaded into the car. Ben & Heidi head out before Em. They are all meeting in *New Jersey* for a week of sun and fun with the D gang.
Em & the kips load their needs for the week leaving other things to be picked up on camp bonus day next Sunday.
Soon it is wave good bye time.
Camp OBX 2009 signing off!
Camp OBX Day 20, August 15 2009
Ben & Heidi, Camille and Brendan have arrived from Northern Virginia in the dark of night. It's their first visit to Camp OBX and we're excited they are here.
In the morning, M & L show cousins C & B all the high features of Camp OBX and then after a relaxing start to an OBX day the group preps for lunch at Kill Devil's and a trip to the aquarium.
The aquarium always provides just the right amount of entertainment.
M gets to touch a skate and take some pictures of the sharks. He finds some great shots!
Home again Donny & I leave the parents in charge. Drew & Lisa are having a good bye party for Ian. He is headed to Army basic training. Drew & Lisa always throw a comfortable party and this is no exception. We get in some long overdue visiting with folks. We make plans with George & Lynda for dinner and a movie Monday evening.
Approaching the last day of Camp OBX!
Camp OBX Day 19, August 14 2009

Emily has arrived in the night! Yipee, we love Parent's Days at camp.
Shopping for school clothes is on the schedule. M is less than enthused but chooses to go. While L & Em empty Gymboree, M & I explore shark's teeth at Michael's Gems and Glass. Some are $500+ and are thousands of years old. M picks two much more reasonably priced and we negotiate getting them and paying. We have to attract the one saleslady's attention to unlock the case (the store is packed) and then wait while she checks out other customers in line to pay back at the counter before we can escape with our treasures, a Great White tooth and a Mako.
Of course, L wants a shark's tooth too when she sees M's so it's back to Michael's to repeat the whole thing.
When we get home we mix up kid in a bubble solution and find that it works pretty well despite having to make do without glycerin which is the key factor to a sturdy bubble.
It's early supper and to bed for campers. More cousins arrive tomorrow!
Camp OBX Day 18, August 13 2009
We have a few days before the last hooray at Camp OBX. It is time to do some grocery shopping. Everyone gets to go. Small person sized carts always make for a good grocery time.
Camp administrator, Donny has gotten the spiffy new, more pixels and definitely water proof, camera he ordered today and is very pleased that it is just as perfect as he intended.
I have fixed an old Transformers tape that had come off its reel and the kids are truly impressed. I have done this many times before but not for awhile. We were always having to fix broken videos when the guys were younger. Not too complicated but it has taken me a few days to discern exactly how this particular one fit back together, always a challenge. The retaping to the reel is the easy part. Keeping up with a tab, a gear and a spring and where each goes can be smooth or frustrating. Two days of frustration and finally success with a snap back together.
Good Night from Miss Fix-It at Camp OBX.
Camp OBX Day 17, August 12 2009

It's last day for the cousins from Richmond. We all go to the beach save Jake & Donny. It is another good bogey board day and Martin makes yet another personal discovery. Bogey boarding is easy and fun.
After dips in Lake Atlantic and much sand digging it is time for eats. M & L and I need to make a quick stop at K-Mart. M needs Megatron to do battle with his Optimus Prime Transformer he got yesterday. L gets one more FurReal, another but different little kitty.
We go to Kill Devil's for our usual fare, plain grilled chicken wrap for L, hot dog for M and of course ice cream sundaes.
At home the Richmond gang is packing up and prepping for an evening ride home when traffic is more manageable. We bid adieu and truck off to Slice, just the four of us.
Just a few more days before Camp OBX 2009 is officially over!
Camp OBX Day 16, August 11 2009
Stacy & Pete have taken their troops to the aquarium and a romp on Jockey's Ridge. Jake stays home but decides to join M & L & myself in a game of mini-golf. Everyone gets a hole in one! Can't ask for much better than that.
After our game hunger sets in and we decide to head off to Kill Devil's for some summer time fun food. But first we want to stop at the K-Mart to shop, another camp regular attraction that has yet to be checked off of the list. M gets General Grievous and L a FurReal pet parrot. Jake finds a cd for his dad. And a huge reading book. He says it is a gift to his mom, she will be very excited that he is reading a tome.
Donny is on his way to the Y to see Lewis' basketball game and will meet us at the fun pool to bring bathing suits so we can take a dip in the fun pool. When we get there it has closed for thunder but will reopen in 30 minutes. Time enough for us to slip back to the K-Mart, Jake has bought the wrong decade cd set. It's an okay set but not his dads' favorite decade. Jake gets the new cd, I tell him to keep the other and now he has gifts for both folks. M gets a Transformer that he has been eying. L gets another FurReal pet, this time a little kitty.
Back at the fun pool, it has reopened and we are practically the only ones there. Donny comes by, the game was good. Lewis played well.
Soon it is home time.
Another daily report from Camp OBX
Camp OBX Day 15, August 10 2009

Cousins, cousins everywhere. Stacy & Pete take their gang off to the beach and L and I decide to play tourist and join them in the heat of the day. The boys beg off. It's a great day for a kid to play in the surf and learn some bogey boarding skills. We're at Ocean Bay, favored tourist headquarters with young kids as there are bathrooms, plus it is just across the highway from our neck of the woods. T-Mike, esteemed leader of all the KDH lifeguards, stops by to say hi and points out Dave, second in command, in the Banana Boat giving rides to the guards to stave off their boredom.
An evening swim in the bay for everyone wraps up a very typical Camp OBX summer day; go to the beach, play in the sound with recovery breaks in between.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Camp OBX Day 14, August 9 2009

Breakfast at any hotel is always an adventure. So many things to sample! Em & Mom are headed north where Star will meet them in Fredericksburg. He & Mom will continue on the Reedville and Em DC.
M, L, D & myself head east and plan to stop at the Pocosin Lakes Wildlife Refuge. We want to go on the nature trail. We ran out of time when we stopped here yesterday on our first of two scheduled stops. The day is hot and M is unimpressed with the walk until he spots a beautiful snake in the water. We had stopped to photo a spider web or we would have missed it. D & L took the path going in the other direction. When we get back to the beginning we do not see D & L and so we walk over to town thinking they may have gone that way. We finally call them and find them waiting back at the start. They join us in town and we have a very nice lunch and find out about the wolf howling on Wednesday's. We want to go!
We shop a bit, L get a bird house and M and booklet on sharks.
Then we finish our trip to home. We have just arrived and unloaded when new campers arrive. It is Stacy, Pete, Cade, Blake, Wythe and Jake who gets to come back for more than a day's worth of camp.
Signing Off for the day from Camp OBX
Camp OBX Day 13, August 8 2009
Road trip day for the entire camp! It's B's birthday and we're all going to his party. It takes two cars to handle us all.
It is also last day at camp for Donald & Terri & S, also Granne, and Auntie Em. That's a lot of campers leaving.
We load up our cars and head west. We have scheduled two breaks for the travelers. The first is in Columbia at the rest stop and nature walk. The second is in Williamston for a Bojangle's lunch to go. We arrive in Raleigh in the early afternoon. The Bergers are already there, John & Donna, Mike & Jackie. The birthday boy is sleeping, the party food ready.
First Birthday for Mr B!!
It is a fine party and we surprise Mom by getting Adam & Kim and H in from Roanoke so that all of her greats are together at one time! We did not tell her they were coming until they arrived and we really did surprise her.
Towards early evening we give good bye hugs and kisses all around. We take Kim & Adam & H to dinner and see them safely on the road back to VA. We are staying over at the Holiday Inn Express so that Em's drive to DC will be easier. DT are staying at AJ's as their flight to Nashville is a Sunday morning one. Andrew will chauffeur them to the airport.
Good Night from the Camp OBX Roving Reporter
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Camp OBX Day 12, August 7 2009
It's a day for hanging out and doing typical camp activities. An art class here, a child class there, a nap or two depending on your age, a chess class on the porch, a kayak trip to the marshes, a bit of TV time, a tad of swimming in the cool of the afternoon, and finally a stop at Kill Devil's for dinner and ice cream.
S gets his first visit to the ocean. He is intrigued as only an almost 3 month old can be. He is now a full fledged beach baby.
Early to bed for campers. Road trip tomorrow!
Good Night ♡
Camp OBX Day 11, August 6 2009

Sam likes Shark Week! He gets extra attention.
Campers have not been to the real beach this week, the water report is cold and bugs always show up when the wind is out of the south. A viewing of Prince Caspian and general hanging out win the day.
S meets Vickie the best mail lady ever. She pampers us!
L, Mom & I go to a girls jewelry party. I suggest the gals buy something and they oblige. Mom picks her favorite ring and turns out it is the newest in the Silpada line. That's my mom, fashion queen! L picks two necklaces and a ring. Then she buys something for Emily. Shannon is kind enough to let us take the items home for instant gratification. This pleases the gals.
Back home L & I wrap her mom's present and put it where she will find it when she arrives later.
Lauren & Kelly arrive to meet up with Lewis who has dined with us.
Much later Auntie Em arrives. She gets to meet S as he is conveniently up for a feeding. Love at first sight.
Kisses and hugs from Camp OBX
Camp OBX Day 10, August 5 2009
It's a big day at camp. Great Granne arrives all the way from Virginia! We have found a great driver for her trip who even uses Mom's car so the expense is very reasonable.
M practices some more with the melody harp. More games of Pirates factor into the day. The Lion, Witch & the Wardrobe is the movie of the afternoon, in Blu Ray of course. Lydia declares Blu Ray viewing, 'SO bright!'
We opt for dinner pizza at Slice and met Lewis there. Lauren is working her shift. After dinner M&L get a tour of the lifeguard truck. It's a good mini field trip.
Good Evening from Camp OBX
Camp OBX Day 9, August 4 2009

It's last camp day for E. He meets Sam the shark and enjoys a casual floor breakfast before heading home with his folks in tow.
S has his first pool swimming lesson. He's beginning to get the hang of the idea. His back float is awesome.
Camp Roller Racers have arrived and the porch 24 hour track is open. Uncle Donald teaches a gaming course using the newly acquired Pirates on the High Seas. So many new things at camp.
Another glorious sunset closes out our camp day.
A toast to you from Camp OBX
Camp OBX Day 8, August 3 2009
A very busy day at camp. It's Shark Week on Discovery Channel and M is excited. Uncle Lewis stops by to meet and tag Sea Bass with his official nickname.
E continues with his rhythm band practice. The silver coffee service is perfect!
M gets hot from running on the porch and Uncles Lewis and Stephen turn him into a pink worm wiggly to help cool him down.
The Hide & Seek Club gets in a few rounds of the game.
In the late afternoon everyone goes for a dip in the bay. S is pretty okay with it. E is our natural water bug. M gets a kayaking lesson and learns that he actually likes the sport and is good at it.
Sunset appetizers on the porch compliment savory wine to sip. And then dinner at the grand table.
A late night session of Villa Paletti brings out the champion edge to the counselors. Never has a taller tower been built with so many blocks on the tip top. And tip the top did but not before six made it all the way up.
Sweet Slumbers from Camp OBX
Monday, August 24, 2009
Camp OBX Day 7, August 2 2009

It is trip recovery and get acquainted day at camp. And this is what we do. Everyone wants a turn at holding S and DT are happy to let us get our fill.
In the afternoon M, L & I take in G-Force (no one else seems to want to go, cannot imagine). Martin later tells his mom that going to a movie is a camp first. I'm pretty sure we went to a movie in Manteo a few years back but maybe not. When we get out of the movie it has rained buckets, to borrow from an old expression that paints a pretty good picture. Without thinking, I take the beach road home. Mistake! It is so flooded and the tourists want to keep slowing to an almost stop in the inches deep water that completely covers the road. It really is not that flooded, as those of us that depend on Colington Road to go anywhere know, but it still is pretty impressive. And deep enough to maybe stall a car IF you stop. Still we get out without mishap and the kids love the spray we kick up. The tourists behind me finally figure out why I head to the center of the road when there is no on coming traffic (high road=less water) and follow suit.
It is a full camp. All cousins present save B who went to the mountains. And we'll all see him soon at his birthday party.
Happy Camp!
Camp OBX Day 6, August 1 2009

It is a quiet camp day. A bit of swimming in the bay with E before the rain sets in. Lots of art. L makes a dinosaur game, Follow the Footprints. Lego building. Basic rainy day camp stuff.
Early evening, Donny & I leave S&S in charge of the campers while we go to the airport to pick up DT& Sea Bass arriving from Nashville. They are doing their part to keep the camp theme viable. It will be many firsts for S. His first plane ride, his first swimming lessons, his first trip to the beach, and he will finally get to meet his uncles and Auntie Em.
Camp on!
Camp OBX Day 5, July 31 2009
Guests coming, guests going that's Camp OBX this summer. All of our guests pack for an early departure to Richmond but not before we have a goodbye family breakfast. And not before Robert rescues the kayak which has decided to take a trip toward the lake.
Midday sees Stephen & Sarah and E arrive from Durham! Guests coming, guests going is definitely our camp theme this summer. S&S and E settle in and we head for the fun pool so that water bug E can get in some swimming before bedtime.
Summer fun is all around.
Camp OBX Day 4, July 30 2009
Camp is filled with guests! Sarah, Theo & Peter, also from SC, arrived the previous evening and this morning during breakfast Robert, Diane & Jake arrive from Richmond. It is going to be a busy day at camp. Water activities include ball wars with the giant hamster balls, water pistol face offs, kayaking, playing with our newly refurbished rowboat that we bought at auction for $25 in Maine years ago, and occasionally swimming.
That evening we have a celebration birthday dinner for Beth including a candle ladened cake.
A hearty game of Risk sees Theo victorious. All three competitors have never played Risk before so it was an interesting game to watch. A handful of us played Quibbler, a birthday gift, with Beth. Conversation and good company serve the rest.
All guests to the house are intrigued by our crown book shelving that runs the perimeter of every room. It is such a great way to store your games, books, treasures, and see it all in a glance. Nathaniel is happy to note that we are Terry Pratchett fans.
Stifled yawns, we are reluctant to end the day, guide us all to bed.
Camp OBX Day 3, July 29 2009
Camp guests have arrived in the night! Beth, Bernie & Nathaniel all the way from South Carolina.
Next morning M immediately puts Nathaniel to work constructing Legos.
Later we journey out to the aquarium. L loves the aquarium but is very interested in getting to the gift shop. When we do, both campers conveniently forget that the rule from home is 'no more stuffed animals.' L is usually the major purchaser here but M tops her with a huge shark (sorry E&M but the other shark option was too small to consider, his teeth were just....wrong) purchase. He did not whine when I first said probably not to such a large acquisition knowing how much trouble I was going to be in (although I did not get the directive directly, these things have been discussed). But I could not go with the measly other shark choice so I ponied up. We also bought a giant turtle for B's first birthday present. And L added to her snake collection.
B's turtle ended up with lots of good karma. We all took turns carrying him. And he got a dusting of powdered sugar from a shared funnel cake at the outdoor cafe when the wind whipped up.
A great camp day!
Camp OBX Day 2, July 28 2009
Ah the joys of doing next to nothing. Both campers slip easily into this mode.
Good to report that animal husbandry is well in hand and the cats so happy for camper attention.
Finally later in the day we dust off the cobwebs and head out for a swim in the fun pool. We rather like going toward the end of the day anyway. Less sun worries and less swimmers.
First we drop off cds to Miss Kay and a painting to friend Chris. There is a slight tussle over who gets to put the cds in the mailbox, not resolved by the other camper getting to deliver the painting since this does not involve a mailbox. So we decide to burn more cds for another mailbox delivery to Miss Kay.
Sweet dreams from Camp OBX!
Camp OBX Day 1, July 27 2009

We run a first class operation here at Camp OBX. We pick up our two primary campers from their northern Virginia home, after a never ending ride through rain storms and traffic jam after traffic jam. But this provides us with a fine opportunity to see M&L's enormous trophies for Most Improved Swimmer on their summer league swim team. And all of their ribbons for well swum events. First year for both!
The return trip to camp next day is fun. We stop in Richmond at Whole Foods to get a new supply of Donny's favorite yogurt, Libertè, and lunch to go. iphone games make the rest of the trip a quick one.
At dinner L comments, 'This is a really nice dinner,' as she views the sun setting over the water.
Camp is off to a good start!
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Bob Dylan

The year is 1966. I am just into my last semester as a fine arts student at what was then RPI, now VCU, located in Richmond, Virginia. A division of William & Mary, RPI was a campus cobbled together in the fan district, the part of town where streets fanned out from the centrally located departments stores and town churches to meet the suburbs. School was composed of maybe four actual classroom buildings to include a three story gym with the art department being housed on the third floor. All other classes were held where ever a spot could be found. Mostly carriage houses or old homes.
Campus population was roughly half day students and half boarding, save a separate count of night school students who were mostly professionals adding onto their degrees. Those of us that lived on campus, found ourselves housed in former richly appointed homes. My dorm was the Bocock House on Franklin Street. I was one of its first inhabitants. Mrs Bocock had just opened the second floor of the front half of the house to the college. There were thirteen of us. By the time I graduated our numbers had increased to about twice that size since third floor rooms were added to the mix.
My first room was a corner room (they were huge) and overlooked the formal garden. My second room had hand painted French wall paper that used to drive us insane after a night of drinking. Red, white & blue plumes that danced freely for you. This room was in the middle of the second floor rooms (all the rest were corner rooms) and was actually a sitting room and thus very small compared to the others. Each room had its own bathroom complete with European water closet and claw footed bathtub. We had walk in, and walk through to the adjoining room, closets. Our room had its own small balcony, very Juliet like.
All of this narrative is to set the scene for RPI stories to follow in various posts. It was the sixties, women had curfews and were not allowed to wear pants on campus. I had to wear a raincoat over my bibs to and from art classes to avoid a call to the dean of women's office. I later got one but that is another story and for another reason.
The day of the Dylan concert I was hanging out at Andy's on Grace Street, the favored watering hole of business students. I was told recently by a fellow student that art students just did not go to Andy's. I really was not aware of this pecking order at the time. He explained that art students were not cool enough, or maybe too cool, but they gathered elsewhere. Since my roomie was a retailing major and I dated among her crowd I had a free pass to be among the elite. It was there that my drinking buddy (his gal pal was at home in Georgia birthing their college romance son, no pregnant unwed gals allowed on campus in the sixties) said he had free tickets compliments of a friend that worked in the box office of the Mosque to a nifty concert and would I like to go. He promised it would rock my world. The Mosque was close to campus and appears as it sounds, very big, very ornate and very impressive. All campus dances were held in the lower level ballroom. Another story.
I accept his proposal and we part to prep for our date. When he picks me up, he tells me we can get better tickets than the balcony ones he has. We stop at the box office and trade our second balcony tickets in for front row, first balcony. He explains who I am about to see. I know a little about Dylan. A dorm mate had some of his albums, I thought them rough. The house is not packed and at that it is mostly older folks, I do not see anyone from campus. What kind of concert is this going to be?
Then this skinny guy walks out on the stage of this massive place with its elegant side box seats, ornately domed ceiling and layers of velvet curtains. He sits down in a straight back chair set center stage. He warms up for a minute, probably even smoking a cigarette. And then it begins. I fall in love, He is mesmerizing. A moment in time to treasure. I am a lucky gal.
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