dual personalities

Category: family

How are things in Glocca Morra?

by chuckofish

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Daughter #2 made it safely to flyover land and to my office yesterday where she graded mid-terms and I got some work done.

In the afternoon we went to the hospital to see the both wee babes.

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Later the boy came over to our house with Lottiebelle for dinner (daughter #3 was in class) and we had more time to hold and stare. Nothing better.

Today, we repeat. Have a good one!

Behold, children are a gift of the LORD,
The fruit of the womb is a reward.

Like arrows in the hand of a warrior,
So are the children of one’s youth.

How blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them;
They will not be ashamed
When they speak with their enemies in the gate.

Psalm 127: 3-5

“Hope does not disappoint us”*

by chuckofish

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I didn’t get to see daughter #1 run the New York City Half Marathon on Sunday, but, thank goodness, she had friends to cheer her on and meet her at the finish! You go, girl! I downloaded the app and followed her progress on my phone–aren’t you impressed?

I got my hair cut, went to an estate sale in the neighborhood, went to the NICU to see the handsome little bud,

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went to Steak ‘N Shake with the OM, cleaned the house, did laundry, went to church, had lunch with my pal Becky, and had the boy and daughter #3 over to dinner…with Lottie for the first time!

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The weeks are busy, indeed, but sometimes the weekends are busier. I guess I live in a

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And now it is Monday and it’s back to the salt mine! Daughter # 2 arrives tomorrow!

*Romans 5: 3-5 (from the Sunday lectionary): More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit which has been given to us.

“Oh, Starbuck! it is a mild, mild wind, and a mild looking sky.”*

by chuckofish

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“Children are still the way you were as a child, sad and happy in just the same way–and if you think of your childhood, you once again live among them, among the solitary children.”

― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

It has been a busy week. Little Lottiebelle went home.

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She also had her first appointment at the pediatrician’s office.

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The little guy had to stay in the NICU, but he got a new pair of little man boat shoes. OMG. Can you stand it?

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He came through his hernia surgery yesterday like a champ. We are hoping he’ll come home next week.

This weekend I’m going to get ready for the arrival of daughter #1 on Tuesday and then daughter #1 on Friday for a bridal shower next Saturday. You know, this means stocking the fridge/pantry with Diet Coke, white wine, leafy greens, and Flaming Hot Cheetos.

I’ll be ready.

In the meantime, did you know that S.E. Hinton’s The Outsiders turns 50 this year? It may be time to re-read this classic.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and that poem, that guy that wrote it, he meant you’re gold when you’re a kid, like green. When you’re a kid everything’s new, dawn. It’s just when you get used to everything that it’s day. Like the way you dig sunsets, Pony. That’s gold. Keep that way, it’s a good way to be. I want you to tell Dally to look at one. He’ll probably think you’re crazy, but ask for me. I don’t think he’s ever really seen a sunset. And don’t be so bugged over being a greaser. You still have a lot of time to make yourself be what you want. There’s still lots of good in the world. Tell Dally. I don’t think he knows.

Stay gold, Ponyboy.”

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Have a good weekend!

*Herman Melville, Moby-Dick; the top photo is little ANC III with ANC jr. on a beach in Italy in the mid-1920s

“Pardon me for seeing the glass half full”*

by chuckofish

I’m sure you heard that March 10 was the 20th anniversary of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

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Because people in 1997 dressed like that in high school never.

Daughter #1 was in seventh grade in 1997 so, of course, I didn’t let her watch a show about vampires. Daughter #2 was in second grade! Good grief. (I was the Mom who wouldn’t let her seven-year old daughter  go to the cool girl birthday party to see The Spice Girls movie, thus wrecking her social standing for-ever.) Mea culpa. We discovered Buffy later when it was in syndication, and I realized (once again) that I was an idiot and should have let daughter #1 watch such an empowering show for girls. But oh well, we were a little late to the party, but we got there and we are all huge Buffy nerds fans. And if you are not, what is wrong with you?

Anyway, this weekend I watched a good part of season one again. And it was pretty great.

In other news, the OM and I got trapped at home when our garage door broke and we couldn’t get our cars out. (See Buffy marathon above) The repairman didn’t come until 8:30 Saturday night! Well, the door was eventually fixed and I was able to get up (after springing forward an hour) on Sunday morning and drive to church.

The Gospel reading was from John chapter 3 where Nicodemus goes to see Jesus in the dark of night to ask him what’s what. Jesus says, “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” It is one of my favorite scripture passages and it made me very happy to hear it. It also made me want to watch the scene in Jesus of Nazareth with Laurence Olivier as Nicodemus. And so I did later in the day.

After church the OM and I went to Schneithorst’s and then we went to see the wee babes in the NICU and held them for an hour. Who needs anxiety medication when you can hold a baby? By the way, Lottie is going home today!

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Here she is without a feeding tube and breathing all on her own, burping after a bottle. She is nearly 7 lbs and has no tape on her face!

The little bud has to have a little hernia operation (not unusual) and then he’ll be ready to come home too.

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He’s breathing on his own too! He weighs 6 lbs 3 oz.!

And it snowed too. Winter is back, but c’est la vie. Have a good week back at the salt mine!

*Rupert Giles, Buffy, Season one, episode three

 

“Visit us with thy salvation, enter every trembling heart”*

by chuckofish

While my DP was shivering in 12-degree weather in the north country, we were enjoying spring temps in flyover-land. I went to a couple of estate sales and found a watercolor of Bruton Parish church, which, as you know, is one of my favorite Episcopal churches.

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We visited the wee babes at the hospital, but didn’t get to see the boy who was filming a lacrosse game at the time. We had quality time with daughter #3 who brought us up to date on the twins.

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Aren’t they looking good?

On Sunday I skipped church and went to see Degas, Impressionism, and the Paris Millinery Trade, a “groundbreaking exploration of Edgar Degas’ fascination with high-fashion hats and the young women who made them,” at the St. Louis Art Museum which featured “an array of period hats and 60 paintings and pastels, including key works by Degas that have never been exhibited in the United States.”

58b05edae6f4b.image.jpgI am not a huge fan of French Impressionism, so an exhibit focusing on French woman and their hats (especially hats with dead birds on them) turned out to be not that exciting to me.

Since the OM had declined to accompany me (He had “too many things to do”–whatever), I decided to check out the rest of the museum. I was pleasantly surprised to see the re-furbished second floor of the main building.

panorama.jpgThere was actually a lot to see! The European, Asian and Ancient art displayed was impressive and I recognized a lot of “old friends” which must have been in storage for years.

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Likewise, I enjoyed the “re-imagined” American Art galleries on the third floor.

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The space for American Art has been greatly expanded and, again, includes a lot of good things. I was pleasantly surprised.

I went home where I puttered around and later that evening I went to Lenten Evensong at church which was a good way to wind up the weekend.

O Lord, support us all the day long, until the shadows lengthen, and the evening comes, and the busy world is hushed, and the fever of life is over, and our work is done. Then in thy mercy, grant us a safe lodging, and a holy rest, and peace at the last.

Now it is Monday again. Have a good week! Seize the day!

*Charles Wesley

Throwback Thursday

by chuckofish

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Here is a three-year old DP and her squalling 4-month old little DP circa  Easter 1959. You can tell it’s Easter by the the Steiff bunnies and  eggs on the table.

Old snapshots are great because of all the familiar stuff you see in the background–in this case, of our small two-bedroom apartment–the old books, the pipes on the pipe rack, the bookends, the table, the framed Edouard Detaille etchings.

Qu’est-ce que tu sais?

“Grant us wisdom, grant us courage, for the facing of the hour”*

by chuckofish

Spring seemed on the verge of arriving this weekend with temps in the 70s and new life bursting forth all over.

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The OM and I went to see the wee babes this weekend according to our new routine.

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The little gal thinks, “My, Pappy, what big glasses you have!”

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As you can see, they are making great strides and are mastering the “suck, swallow, breath” drill. Even the little guy, who is still only 4 lbs, 8 oz., is beginning to have that chubby baby look at last. They are doing fine.

I went to church and there were very few people there. (I wondered whether people thought going to Joe’s funeral on Thursday let them off the hook.) After church, I had lunch with my pals and we marveled at how busy we are. I did find time over the weekend to finish The Transit of Venus. You know, it takes longer to read a book to which you have to pay such close attention. I felt while reading it that I was just barely smart enough to appreciate it.

You might have said, What beauty. Instead Caro introduced herself. Monosyllables were planted like bollards, closing every avenue. The boy had not forgotten what to say: he had chosen a part with no lines. He was cool, and except for the wrists, unruffled. One talked as if to a child. “What’s your name, where do you go to school?” His name was Felix, and he was to go somewhere–no doubt Oxford, or doubtless Cambridge–in the autumn. When someone else came up he disappeared instantly, having somehow stuck it out till then.

Shirley Hazzard, wow.

Now it is Monday again. Take it slow. Savor the moment. Live in the now.

*Hymn #594, Harry Emerson Fosdick

“Southstreet, give your testimony.”*

by chuckofish

I went to a funeral at our church yesterday. Joe was a real pillar of the church, a former vestryman, junior warden, senior warden, softball coach, scoutmaster–you name it, he did it. He was in church last Sunday, sitting as usual a few pews behind me, so when I heard the news on Monday, I was a little freaked out. He died on Sunday night in his recliner, watching an old movie. (John Wayne was his favorite.)

All three of his sons spoke lovingly of their dad before the service. All three are Eagle Scouts and active churchmen. Impressive. Joe was always there for them, “present” as they said; something that I’m afraid is rare these days.

For 40 years Joe and his wife had a party at their house every Christmas Eve after the children’s service at church for all the misfits at church who didn’t have family in town. We went to this party for over 10 years. Sometimes my children were slightly chagrined to be associated with some of the kids who were there–other misfits like us. But I know that now, from their more mature  perspectives, they look back fondly on those Christmas Eves and on Joe who would talk to anybody–even awkward middle schoolers.

The church, of course, was packed for the memorial service–as one of his sons said, like Christmas or Easter! Of course it was. Joe had friends from high school, his college fraternity, work, volunteer work, scouts, and church. I held out until the last hymn–“Amazing Grace” with bagpipe accompaniment–and then wept openly. The boy was with me and he  patted my shoulder. Joe, after all, had been at his Court of Honor and at his wedding. He knows they broke the mold with Joe.

But thankfully it’s Friday again! I am really looking forward to the weekend, aren’t you?

I get to see the wee babes who have been moved to another section (“the yellow side”) of the NICU and are down to 2% on their oxygen–practically room air! They are sleeping in open cribs and their parents can pick them up and hold them like regular babies now.

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Pretty exciting!

If you are trying to think of something good to watch this weekend, you might pick something written and/or directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz (1909-1993) whose birthday is tomorrow. Among his films are The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (1947), All About Eve (1950), Guys and Dolls (1955) and Cleopatra (1963).

guys-and-dolls-27443You can’t go wrong there.

It is also the anniversary of the death of Henry Hathaway (1898-1985) who directed The Lives of a Bengal Lancer (1935), Legend of the Lost (1957), North to Alaska (1960), How the West Was Won (1962), Circus World (1964), The Sons of Katie Elder (1965), Nevada Smith (1966), True Grit (1969) and many others.

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Can’t go wrong with Steve, but I may have to watch one of those John Wayne classics and raise a glass to Joe.

Into paradise may the angels lead you, Joe. At your coming may the martyrs receive you, and bring you into the holy city Jerusalem.

*Nathan Detroit in Guys and Dolls

Grant us strength and courage

by chuckofish

Quelle busy weekend! The weather was beautiful on Saturday (72 degrees!) so everyone, including me, was out and about.

Grandpappy and I visited the wee babes at the hospital.

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Lottie is now big enough to fit into preemie clothes!

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Little boy is over 3 lbs! It won’t be long before he can wear pants too.

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On the social side we went out to dinner with old friends. I attended my church’s annual meeting and stayed for the service following. Afterwards I had lunch with my pal Carla.

In between all these activities I managed to work in the yard and go to an estate sale,  but there was not much time for puttering around the house.

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Having finished The Thin Man, I  moved into deeper water and started to re-read the wonderful A Testament of Devotion by Thomas R. Kelly, a hero among Quakers and in the larger world of Christian mystics.

To this extraordinary life I call you–or He calls you through me–not as a lovely ideal, a charming pattern to aim at hopefully, but as a serious, concrete program of life, to be lived here and now, in industrial America, by you and by me.

This is something wholly different from mild, conventional religion which, with respectable skirts held back by dainty fingers, anxiously tries to fish the world out of the mudhole of its own selfishness. Our churches, our meeting houses are full of such respectable and amiable people. We have plenty of Quakers to follow God the first half of the way. Many of us have become as mildly and as conventionally religious as were the church folk of three centuries ago, against whose mildness and mediocrity and passionlessness George Fox and his followers flung themselves with all the passion of a glorious and a new discovery and with all the energy of dedicated lives. In some, says William James, religion exists as a dull habit, in others as an acute fever. Religion as a dull habit is not that for which Christ lived and died.

The weekend sped by and now it is Monday once again. I’m off to the salt mine. Enjoy your day, okay?

*BCP, Post-Communion Prayer

Happy birthday, Mary, Dolly and Buffy!

by chuckofish

Can it be January 19th already? Zut alors! Readers of this blog may remember that this is the birthday of our dear mother, as well as Dolly Parton and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Truly a day to celebrate!

Here is a photo of our little mother holding one DP who is one-year old.

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I think my older brother (age 6) took the picture because 1) the look on our mother’s face and 2) the artful set-up of the snapshot, the empty garage taking a prime part of the photo.

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There are other snaps in this series taken by my mother of the baby in the stroller and of Cowboy Chris. But I’m betting my brother picked up the camera and said, “Let ME take a picture of YOU!”

Anyway, I’m glad he did.

Well, I plan to toast Mary, Dolly and Buffy tonight. (Drynuary turned out not to be a thing.) In their honor, I may watch one our mother’s favorite movies. Possibilities would be:

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Decisions, decisions…

In the meantime, here’s a little Bruce Spingsteen to brighten your day: O, Mary, don’t you weep no more…a rockin’ rendition of an old favorite.

Have a blessed day and never forget that pharaoh’s army got drowned.