May | 2015 | dual personalities

May 19, 2015

“The little toy dog is covered with dust, But sturdy and staunch he stands”*

by chuckofish

Did you hear about this?

According to the New York Times, F. A. O. Schwarz, the legendary toy store on Fifth Avenue, will close its doors July 15, “a victim of rising rents and ultraluxury retailing in New York City’s hottest shopping district.”

The store has been a fixture in New York for 145 years! “In 1870, Frederick August Otto Schwarz opened a toy store, Schwarz Brothers — Importers, at 765 Broadway. In 1876 he opened a second shop farther uptown. The two stores combined in a move to Union Square, and the store was renamed F. A. O. Schwarz. The store moved a number of times, and to its current location in 1986.” (NYT)

Our father was a big fan of F.A.O. Schwarz and I grew up knowing it was the toy mecca of the U.S.A. When I finally visited the store in my college years I wasn’t that impressed, but whatever. Newell was a toy person and loved Steiff animals. For years I slept with a Steiff tiger which my father bought for me when I was born. (I have no doubt that my mother rolled her eyes, knowing he had spent way more than she knew was practical.) “Tiggy” was retired when I was about 12 because he was becoming quite worn, but he always adorned my pillow.

I’m sure it is from our father that we three children inherited our attachment to toys–and stuffed animals in particular–that has plagued us our whole lives. At any rate, I find it very difficult to part with them. I will leave it to my children to figure out what to do with them.

Ah, the proverbial tip of the iceberg (which is housed in our basement). Oh good lord.

This is how my mind works.

*Little Boy Blue by Eugene Field

6 Comments

May 18, 2015

“Here are the buckets and brushes and me/Plinketty, plinketty, plinketty, plee.”*

by chuckofish

I had a busy weekend filled mostly with getting a new MacBook Pro, since my old one died on Thursday night. They kept calling it “vintage” at the Apple store. It was 5 1/2 years old for pete’s sake, but in this day in age, that is “vintage”–at least as far as Apple products are concerned.

So anyway, I have a new laptop and it is pretty great.

I worked in the yard and went to church, but when it came time to sit down and write a blogpost, I really drew a big zero.

So I give you Lillian Hoban’s birthday. Lillian Hoban (May 18, 1925 – July 17, 1998) you will recall illustrated the wonderful children’s books written by her husband Russell Hoban.

My children were big fans of Frances, the little badger with whom they could readily relate. I seem to recall that daughter #1 especially loved this character who said things like:

“Who is Alice?” asked mother.
“Alice is somebody that nobody can see,” said Frances. “And that is why she does not have a birthday. So I am singing Happy Thursday to her.” (A Birthday for Frances)

I liked Frances too. She was fun to read about.

The next day when the bell rang for lunch, Albert said, “What do you have today?”

“Well,” said Frances, laying a paper doily on her desk and setting a tiny vase of violets in the middle of it, “let me see.” She arranged her lunch on the doily.

“I have a thermos bottle with cream of tomato soup,” she said.
“And a lobster-salad sandwich on thin slices of white bread.
I have celery, carrot sticks, and black olives,
and a little cardboard shaker of salt for the celery.
And two plums and a tiny basket of cherries.
And vanilla pudding with chocolate sprinkles
and a spoon to eat it with.”

“That’s a good lunch,” said Albert. “I think it’s nice that there are all different kinds of lunches and breakfasts and dinners and snacks. I think eating is nice.”

“So do I,” said Frances, and she made the lobster-salad sandwich, the celery, the carrot sticks, and the olives come out even. (Bread and Jam for Frances)

I especially liked it when Frances sat under the table and made up songs.

Sometimes she sat under the sink.

Sometimes we all feel like doing that.

Of course, there are elements in these books which people now-a-days might find shocking–for instance, Papa Badger smokes a pipe and even threatens to spank Frances when she won’t stay in bed! Oh my gosh. Quelle shocking!

So happy birthday to Lillian Hoban and to Frances. Have a great Monday!

*A Baby Sister for Frances

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May 16, 2015

There, but not back again…

by chuckofish

at least not for a while. Son #2 is about to embark on an epic journey by car, planes, trains, and bus. Here’s what his route looks like plotted on Google Earth:

Next Thursday he and his girlfriend, N, load up her warhorse of a car, aptly named Mary Jane. She boasts over 200,000 miles on the odometer and no air-conditioning, but the mechanic swears she has another 125,000 miles in her yet — we’ll see. Leaving behind their beloved North Country, they will journey cross-country to New Mexico, where N will intern this summer at the beautiful Ghost Ranch.

But, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. They have planned their itinerary to stay with friends and family and thus avoid unnecessary hotel bills. First, they visit some of N’s family in Allegany, NY, nestled in the Enchanted Mountains (?).

Then it’s on to Columbus, Ohio, where they will spend the weekend with friends, no doubt re-living their fondest college moments.

Onward, they will travel to the gateway to the West, where they will enjoy the famous hospitality of my dual personality, but without the snow.

I wish I could joint them for that stop! But I’d be happy to miss the next — flat — part of the journey, though it will eventually take them across the plains and into the mountains of Colorado, where they will visit family friends in Colorado Springs.

I believe they plan to take a break here for a day or two — I would, wouldn’t you? It looks beautiful. Assuming that Mary Jane is still running and the lack of air-conditioning hasn’t caused the travelers to overheat, they will only have a relatively easy (?) journey to Albuquerque left. After a couple of days rest and sight-seeing in the vicinity, our travelers part company, she to her internship and he to points east. From there my son flies to Washington DC (via Chicago), where he will arrive just after his brother’s 25th birthday, but in plenty of time to help him save the world.

A few days later, son #2 will board a plane to London, traveling via Reykjavik (alas, just a short layover). Once he’s finally in England, he will have to travel down to Devon.

No doubt his grandmother will greet him with a cup of tea and loads of fabulous food. By this time, he will have earned a little rest before he embarks on his next adventure, whatever that turns out to be! I will miss him more than I can say, but I’m excited for him, too.

O God, our heavenly Father, whose glory fills the whole
creation, and whose presence we find wherever we go:

Preserve those who travel;

Surround them with your loving care;

Protect them from every danger;
and bring them in safety to their journey’s end;

Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Godspeed intrepid travelers!

*From the 1974 Episcopal prayer book and I’m not sure why the spacing turned out to be so strange…

3 Comments

May 14, 2015

What are you reading? TGIF edition

by chuckofish

I have read two good books recently, which are oddly similar.

My dual personality gave me The Lost Art of Keeping Secrets by Eva Rice,

who is the daughter of Tim Rice (Jesus Christ Superstar)–about an upper class girl living in genteel poverty in post-WWII England. I read it enthusiastically and with pleasure.

Then I bought a used copy of I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith,

about an upper class girl living in a crumbling castle in 1930s England, published in 1948. I enjoyed it also.

I wonder if Eva Rice has read I Capture the Castle? The plots of these two novels are different, although they both involve a teenage girl living in a crumbling edifice and romance and the tone is remarkably similar.

I enjoyed them both very much and recommend them as good summer reading.

Plus, I see on IMDB.com that I Capture the Castle was made into a movie in 2003.

The cast is good, so I may check it out this weekend.

I am not sure what to read next, although, as always, I have a big pile of possibilities.

After a big work event today, I plan to take it easy this weekend. How about you?

7 Comments

May 14, 2015

The road ahead

by chuckofish

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

–Thomas Merton (1915-1968)

The painting is “Spring Sky” by Eric Sloane

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May 13, 2015

Well said, Daphne

by chuckofish

“There was something rather blousy about roses in full bloom, something shallow and raucous, like women with untidy hair”
–Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca

Vincent Van Gogh, Still Life with Pink Roses

Roses by Henri Fantin-Latour

Roses in a Vase by Childe Hassam

Happy birthday to Daphne du Maurier (13 May 1907 – 19 April 1989). Let’s toast her tonight and read from one of her great books. Jamaica Inn is my favorite. When she is in top form, there is no one better than Daphne du Maurier. Sadly, none of the movies made from her books are (in my opinion) all that great except, of course, for The Birds (1963).

Have a great Wednesday!

6 Comments

May 12, 2015

“Are you implying that I am unhinged?”*

by chuckofish

My days do have a certain similarity to them. Anyone with a nine-to-five job knows what that is like.

But they are never exactly the same.

It is a good idea to embrace that thought and to make note of the differences. To notice.

For instance, I saw these beauties while going to a meeting on my flyover campus.

And I watched Murder Ahoy (1964) starring the wonderful Dame Margaret Rutherford as Miss Marple.

She is just the best, isn’t she?

All this examining of my day got me thinking about the consciousness examen prayer “technique” which is a simple prayer that can “deepen our awareness of the presence of God and aid our spiritual growth as His disciples.”

1. Feel the stillness in the darkness and try to find God’s presence in it.

2. Gratefully review the events of the day–the good, the bad, and the ugly.

3. What emotions bubble up as you do this? Pay attention to them.

4. Pick out one event from your day and pray from it.

5. When you are finished praying, close silently with a few minute’s rest in God’s presence.

(Read more here.)

I would have to get a lot more disciplined to do this on a regular basis, but it’s not a bad idea. In the meantime, at least I’ll try to pay attention.

*Miss Marple–definitely not unhinged.

5 Comments

May 11, 2015

“As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love.”*

by chuckofish

On Mother’s Day I went to church by myself per usual. Afterwards I stopped by Dunkin’ Donuts for a Mother’s Day treat which I shared with the OM.

I picked some peonies from the garden.

I enjoyed opening the cards and treats which my daughters sent.

On Friday I had gone to the Art Museum and picked up some tickets for the Bingham show which closes next weekend, so I dragged the OM along on Sunday afternoon.

Good times on the old Missouri River.

I had reminded the boy that Sunday was Mother’s Day and it might be nice if he had his mother over for dinner. So we went to his house for dinner with lovely daughter #3.

I was home in time for the finale of Wolf Hall.

The lesson of this tale is that sometimes you have to do things alone or for yourself. And sometimes you just have to get the ball rolling. The trick is not minding and being grateful that you can. I had a lovely day.

And I thought this Oscar compilation was great.

*John 15:9

4 Comments

May 9, 2015

Advice to Mothers Everywhere or “What would I do with a spice rack?”

by chuckofish

Every year thousands of school children make cute craft gifts for their mothers. Sometimes these gifts prove a challenge for the appreciative mom: is that clay object a giraffe or Obi Wan Kenobi wielding a light saber? A lop-sided hippo or a portrait of the family pet? Although my own boys are long past the school craft stage, I remember it fondly and, yes, with a little chagrin. Let me explain. Long ago, during a dinner table conversation about what that year’s school craft would produce, someone mentioned spice racks. I responded “What would I do with a spice rack?” in that dismissive tone of voice that is peculiar to my bloodline (YOU know what I mean). During the stunned silence that followed, I realized with horror that I might actually receive such a gift, and if so, I had just crushed the soul of one of my boys. My attempts to recant were pretty lame and hilarity ensued; disaster averted, the story became part of our family lore.

Despite my jaded take on school crafts, those teachers sure worked hard to make Mother’s Day special. Back in the day, for example, my youngest son’s kindergarten class held a tea. Here we are arriving:

Each mom received a book that her child had made. Mine included this classic page:

It’s not exactly a flattering portrait, but you have to love the comments. I can say with pride that while most of the other children estimated their young mothers to be in their late 40s or 50s, my son got it wrong in the best possible way. Even better, his “I love my mom because” statement far outdid those of the other kids, who said things like “because she feeds me” or “because she cleans my room”. All the other moms were jealous of “the best mom in the universe”.

By (roughly) 2nd grade, Tim’s drawing had improved, but his food commentary was still just as baffling.

Now, we all know that I am not exactly a gourmet cook, but really, I’ve only made Hamburger Helper maybe twice in my life. Really, I promise. Still, at least I’m smiling in this picture (and please note the interesting ancient Egyptian-style mixed perspective, where we see the table and tofu from the side, but the implements and wok from above).

Most of the other pages in his book depicted me grading papers, reading, writing, or just staring into space, but always sitting on the sofa — seeing that for the first time was an ‘Out of the mouths of babes’ moment for sure. Thus do we live and learn. Though I can’t say that it made me quit my job and become a soccer mom, I kind of wish that I had.

What special Mother’s Day memories do you have?

4 Comments

May 8, 2015

Windows open

by chuckofish

May is white clouds behind pine trees

Puffed out and marching upon a blue sky.

May is green as no other,

May is much sun through small leaves,

May is soft earth,

And appleblossoms,

and windows open to a south wind.

–Amy Lowell

I found this poem torn out of a magazine and stuck in my mother’s notebook about gardens where she had painstakingly copied out poems about gardens and bible quotations and other quotes.

Also stuck in it was this photo:

You can click on it to enlarge the picture.

Her mother and grandfather are on the right. They are visiting their relatives (the Wheeler-Rand-Smiths) who owned the farm. My mother is the little dark-haired girl with the baby carriage and her older sister Susanne is to the right. I don’t know whose baby my grandmother is holding, because her youngest daughter was born in 1933 and this must be 1928-29, judging from my mother’s age (3?). The other women and the blonde children are members of the family (the Frohawks) who lived on the farm and farmed it.

My mother spent her summers on this farm in North Charlestown, N.H. and, boy, did she love it and the Frohawks. At that time, the farm had been in her family for 150 years. We heard about it all the time growing up. I would have liked to spend my summers there, but it had been sold after the war and was gone with the wind.

Sigh.

Anyway, also tucked into the notebook was this cartoon, which I am sure I had sent her.