i'll give you the world

This old map has hung in the family home (which is no longer a place where I've actually "lived" as in "lived there") for as long as I can remember. My dad just loves old stuff; I tend to, also. I have my own quirky collections of things but his house is practically a museum. This map has been preserved for...a long, long time. Not sure how old it is. As my grandmother used to say - and as I find myself saying increasingly, to my dismay - "it's a different world."

It sure is, Grammy. Often I don't know what to make of it.

didn't we do this?

I dunno. I feel sure we did an "Up Close" week. Or maybe it's just me. I tend to want to get up close in a lot of shots, although my camera - which I'd always thought was decent - always gives me the shake warning (even on a tripod) and often shows junk in a preview. It doesn't handle poor light well, either, as will be forever evidenced by my lack of any photos of my son's "Celebration of Learning" - aka, 5th grade "graduation." Or any of his violin recitals (this term is far too lofty for what they really were.) Oh well.

I got close to this guy, though:

I know - ewwwww!

In keeping with the green theme, I got close to these, too, without disturbing (too many of) them:

 

 Kinda makes me wanna stick my tongue out and catch a drop - it looks so clean and fresh!

hot

Soz. Slacking again. This week is "hot" and I'm kind of out of it and, well, it's not actually hot at the moment. No, I don't have a grill or one of those on-deck urban fire pit things. Yes, I'm tempted to put up a smokin' hot picture of myself, but I won't.

It was hot the day this was taken. Hence the utter joy of getting soaked over and over by the Tea Party log ride boat (I think that's what it's called) as it completed its splashdown.

Let's all get soaked in the water of liberty soon.

it's just what I'm feeling

It doesn't even look all that nice and bright up there, does it?

ssssspring!

I just missed "weeds and flowers" week. Never too late. I have some. Well, I wasn't inspired to shoot pics of weeds, actually, but I did want some flowers :-)

No idea what these are; they're just pretty.

These I know: chive buds!

And this is a, uh, well it's a tree of some sort:

raw nature

OK, I kinda got busy with life. Or, lazy with life. I'd planned to cruelly mock the "raw nature touched by man" theme, because it sounds so artsy-fartsy presumptuous. I still plan to.

Belated mocking, begin.

Here is a piece of raw nature, touched by me. We take "man" in this case to be "humanity." I am touching it. Touching it, I say!!!

O Tannenbaum...ok, here's raw nature touched by man-made. I'm pretty sure "made in China" too.

I did not touch this or place it. I was hiking and this apple core, chomped by man, was sitting just like this. Snap! Here is a closer view:

Pretty sure those bite marks are human. We'll consult with CSI if necessary.

Again, I'm touching it!!!!!!!!

Here is a place where raw nature is always touched by man...

The picture of doggie doo on my shoe didn't really come out. Darn.

gimme some smack

I know someone who considers this food...I'll bet you do, too :-)

When I was a kid, we had a little variety store - and I mean little - at the end of our street. Big Hershey bars were, I believe, 15 cents. The stuff in this photo was truly penny candy. Times have changed.

urgh

These were colorful to snap; I'd never eat them, though. I kind of like the orange ones, but none of them like me!!!

and this is also food...

Well, it is.

mreeeoooowwww!

Hey, it's food. I wouldn't eat it. Incidentally, neither would my cat...

nom nom

This week's theme is food; my son laughs, "but you never eat!" and he's got a point. So photographing food will be pretty staged.

I visited with my Dad for my birthday and he asked what I'd like to eat; wanting to please him and my brother, too (there's no pleasing Babs, so I don't even try...he'll eat rolls) I chose steak tips. On the grill. Mmmmmmmm.

I wish there had been leftovers :-) Oh, the peppers? Not my idea. Blech!

he's heard it all

Animals. Who says they can't be stuffed ones?

Capital C was given to me by my mom, Betty, as a Christmas gift when I was sixteen years old. If memory serves, she's the one who walked around holding him most of the day; he just fits nicely in the crook of your arm, riding your hip.

He's spent more nights in my bed and my arms than any man or child ever has, or probably ever will. He is the only one who saw my tears on my wedding night as I wept in the posh bathroom of the Ritz Carleton over the terrible mistake I'd made. He's absorbed so many tears, in fact, he should still be soggy.

He saw my son come into this world and take his first breath. He may see me take my last.

His seams are finally giving way and although he's still in my bed, he's out of my arms because last year he simply became too delicate.

He's almost Real now, don't you think?

no-no jo

No-No Jo came to our family from the MSPCA shelter in April of 2002; he was hiding under a blanket when I found him, but the one meow he gave was loud. I like loud, talkative cats (most of the time.)

He was so skittish he hid under Babs' bed for a few hours when I brought him home; when we moved in 2005 he hid under the basement stairs for at least a full day - I had to put his food and water there. He's always been timid - I am afraid someone else didn't like his loquacious nature - he talks a LOT and very loudly, too.

He's gotten more bold as he's aged: in the past year, he's wanted to sit in my lap (well, when the heated throw is on it) and lies on top of me in bed sometimes when I'm reading. When I sleep, he lies across a pillow of his own behind my head. He wants to go outside a little, when no one else is around - he's afraid of neighbors even if they're on their own deck minding their own business.

His name is No-No Jo because when Babs was three or so all the kids at daycare loved this book, "No, No Jo!" about a kitten named Jo who got into all sorts of trouble. Every other page the kids were yelling, "No, no Jo!" All the kids sort of thought that was the cat's name. Thus...well, you see. He is a great treasure.

potential

Well, it could turn into a landscape. Someday. Without help from me, which would damage its potential, because my thumb ain't green.

Today is sort of a black day for me. Something happened five years ago that scarred me badly. I still feel like this dirt, dark and still lifeless. I've waited for something good to grow out of that day, and nothing ever has. And when the soil gets quiet, along comes something that claws it all up again.

my father's landscape

This week's theme is landscaping. Personally, I can't think of a more boring set of pictures to look at than landscaping shots. What a coffee table book that would make. And I know they exist. "Great Landscaping Ideas" is the sort of book only those who can afford to care about their landscaping - meaning, firstly, that they have a house with some sort of yard, and then either that they have gobs of cash or gobs of time (and talent) to attempt it themselves.

I have none of these things. Our condo has minimal landscaping cared for by some dude we pay.

My father is an artist. He went to Mass Art and has painted, sketched and carved all his life as an avocation. I feel he wishes he were a great artist, but doesn't have the talent or time left to become one. 

I save a lot of things. One thing I have saved away is a sketch he made of me when I was about eight years old or so, holding a chick. It's on terrible doodle pad paper, which was what I had, and I cherish it. He'll always be an artist to me.

missing springtime

I pretty much missed the entire week for the "springtime" theme. I often miss springtime itself, too, as it seems to be gone in the blink of an eye here in New England. One day you'll notice the damp, green smell of the earth, and the next day you're wondering where all the leaves suddenly came from.

they're coming

Yes, the posts are coming - I've been off because it's school vacation week and I can't get the photos to the computer unless it's some insanely late hour of the night (when I forget or am distracted) since someone is home and using it all the time.....it's almost over! I'll past-post some :-)

holly jolly

Catching up a little on notions. I have this box that goes under the bed - another legacy from Grammy - that's perfect for wrapping paper and ribbons and bows. It may have been designed for that purpose; I'm not sure. Lingerie would work too, if you were the type of person who had a lot of it, which I'm not.

Every year, after Christmas, I can't resist buying up wrapping paper and ribbons at huge discounts. I tell myself I don't need this stuff - I re-use all the ribbons (the ones the cat doesn't chew or ingest and puke up, that is) so I sort of have a surplus. Here's a small sampling.

a notion of the divine

I have a little altar in my bedroom; I'm a non-denominational Christian, but I love some of the images from Catholicism. Also represented is Buddhism (prayer wheel) and God's creation in a crown of hammered leaves. Oddly, there is a pair of baby's shoes next to Mary; I think they may have been my mother's. Then again, perhaps they belong there; I am never shattered so much by the power of God and his love as when I contemplate the miracle my son is. When he was born, I was aware that a new immortal soul had entered the room.

This might have been a more mysterious shot if I'd lit the incense bowl :-)

baubles

I have a floral box on the cedar chest at the foot of my bed - it's full of baubles and trinkets, a treasure trove for the girl I never had, or perhaps the girl I was.

touched by grammy

A year before my Grammy died I moved into her condo; she'd had a stroke and was in a nursing home.

It was still furnished and a bit strange at first - I kept finding things and finding things. All of her knitting needles and leftover yarn, never to be picked up again. A pair of unfinished baby booties.

An old tin of colored threads. Still here.

dem bones

I told ya I'd be lame this week, right? I'm sure I did. Although I did see a cool structure in Cambridge which I would have taken a picture of...if I hadn't been driving the car through pedestrian traffic at the time.

Meh. I think one person visits this blog anyway! It's mostly for me, but this week I've sorta let myself down.

yeah, that

So, the theme this week is apparently "structures." I have the feeling I won't be following it very well.

Yeah, I got nuthin'. LOL

it was all about me all along

Turns out this week's theme was self-portraits or somesuch.

So I'll finish up with me again, looking at you.

easter rocks!

Actually it was pretty quiet around here on this Easter Day. When my son was little, he collected rocks like so many kids. He painted and prettied some up, and they live in an egg carton. I still love them.

they are my own

My hands are small, I know,

But they're not yours; they are my own -

Not yours; they are my own

And I am never broken

We are never broken.
We are God's eyes
God's hands
We are reflections of God.

-"Hands" by Jewel

thailights

I still don't know what the theme is this week, because no one seems to be updating and the permissions on the calendar aren't working. Well, fine. I'll just post what I want!

These fairy lights were sent from my friends while they ministered in Thailand. They come folded in on themselves, you pop them open, and then fit them over Christmas lights. I hung my string at the foot of my bed, up on the canopy rail. Having never seen my bedroom, my friends sent me a string of purple, green and light blue. My walls are a very light purple crocus, and the bed has a purple, green and white quilt on it. How perfect!

i should be doing more of this

There was a time in my life when I sat down every morning with this book and took notes. I went through the longest Psalm in the bible once, pen and coffee cup near to hand. It's one of the things I should get back to.

looking up to mom

Guess who he's looking at? :-)

pretty literal translation

Yeah, I basically laid down on the kitchen floor and pointed up!

looking up (close)

So this counts as my non-literal "looking up" entry.

All I can think of is "boy, I knew my toes were fat but geeeeez!"

this week: looking up

OK, this week's theme is "Looking Up." I decided not to do anything fancy or clever for this one. I was in the tub wondering what to take a shot of, and...well, there ya have it.

Looking up from the bubbles.

(bubbles courtesy of LUSH, ahhhhh...!)

the eyes have it

It's the start of a new week, and I have no idea what the theme is. So here's looking at you, kids.

Better watch it. I've got 'em in the back of my head, too.

useless decor

Located in the lovely room I never spend time in.

Oops, I think I spy a stray pine needle from this year's Christmas tree. Should have Photoshopped that out. My bad.

Not pictured: cat hair all over everything.

cloves, thyme, cramp bark, and who knows?

It might be blue cohosh. I think it's "passed" at this point and should be replaced. I used to make herbal teas, and when I say "tea" I mean that loosely. I really mean "tastes like dirt" infusions of dried herbs and roots. Did they ever really help me? I don't know, but their bitter taste is somehow relaxing, the taste of "at least I tried."

it's growing on my wall

It's funny. When I bought this condo I decided to make the front room just what I wanted it to be: neutral tones, earthy, nice window treatment...I reupholstered the old pink couch to a soft, dark brown. Bought the throw pillows. Placed the ornate mirror.

Put up two of these twining wall lamps on each side of my large window. They look great.

I never go in there.

good enough to eat...or play with?

Shiny. Pretty. Round.

Every day is hard; taking pictures, that is. And getting to the right computer lol.

But imagine these rolling around happily and smile :-)

naturally exfoliating

It's soap.

It smells like cloves and oatmeal and almonds and probably something else, but I'm not sure what all got put into the pot.

I melted it up one day after the holidays and all the gritty bits settled to the bottom of the mold, which is the top of the soap. Kind of odd to use this, but it smells heaenly.

not that I knit

can it be done?

I didn't take this picture, but I wish I had. Maybe this year I'll be able to shoot something that moves me the way this photo does. It's not that it's such a "fabulous" photo; it's that it moves me deeply. That's my friend there, who helped deliver my son, and I believe I've known her since before we were born. We didn't meet each other for 18 or 19 years into my life, and we go years without seeing each other now, but it doesn't matter because we've always had all the time in the world.

Where is she going? Who or what is at the end of that incredible field? What is she thinking?

I want to take a picture that makes you wonder.