Friday, December 28, 2007

Deer Head

While I was buzzing down a back road five days before Christmas heading for Littleton, I saw an object on the road surface ahead of me. I swerved around it glancing over to check it out. It was the head of a deer! It appeared to have a small rack but I was driving too fast to know for certain. No body was to be seen, no bones either.

I immediately thought of The Godfather by Mario Puzo and the scene where movie producer Jack Woltz refuses a request of Don Corleone. The next morning he wakes up to find his prize $600,000 thoroughbred racehorse’s head lying next to him on his bed. Ugh! Shivers ran down my back. (That scene and Alfred Hitchcock’s shower scene are imbedded in many minds forever!)

I’ve heard of some creeps killing a deer and taking the head or the rack for a trophy, wasting the rest instead of using it for food. I’ve never heard of taking the body and leaving the head. Does anyone have any idea why someone would do this?

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Christmas Dinner

Setting the table in holiday dinner mood, I selected a ruby-red damask tablecloth, lacy white napkins, the good flatware and fine wine glasses. We’re conserving water in respect to the drought North Carolina has been experiencing this year. Our rosemary Christmas tree adorned the center. The rosemary spices the air with its aroma. No candlelight this year. Brother Al is on oxygen. Christmas carols played softly in the background to enhance conversation, not over power it.

I opened the DuBoeuf Beaujolais Nuveau before dinner to drink with appetizers (little fingers of anchovies in a potato and flour dough.) The bouquet was rich and fruity, more full-bodied than the one we opened in Nov. It was perfect before dinner. To drink with the standing rib roast I opened a Torre Spina Valpolicella again it was just right.

In memory of Charles Dickens, et.al. I made Yorkshire Pudding for the first time, ever. It was quite different than I expected. Not something I would eat more than once a year-it’s made from the fat of the roast. It finishes like a puffy bread crust. Tasty. In memory of good health I made fresh spinach cooked with pine nuts, raisins, garlic and olive oil. In memory of all my good friends, we toasted to their health, wealth and happiness.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Wife Needed

When reading a book I sometimes get more out of it than I expected. I’m referring to ‘The Red Rose Girls’ An Uncommon Story of Art and Love by Alice A. Carter. I was reading intensely when I found the answer to my biggest problem in life. I’ve always been the wife instead of having one. Darn it!

It quotes an article from Lippincott’s Monthly Magazine “The chief obstacle to a woman’s success is that she can never have a wife. Just reflect what a wife does for an artist: Darns his stockings, (this is an old magazine) keeps his house, writes his letters, Visits his benefits, Wards off intruders, etc. Always an encouraging and partial critic, etc. A husband would be quite useless. He would never do any of these disagreeable things.”

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Bread Crumbs

As I learn about a person and they of me, usually bit-by-bit over a period of time, it’s determined whether we will become casual friends, life-long friends or just acquaintances.

I find it’s the same in the place I live. It’s important to learn about today’s every day life. Soon to follow is researching and learning the history of where I live. What happened in earlier times, how the folks responded to events, often forms the character of the people living here now.

The histories of Warren County and the rest of North Carolina are impressive from the first settlers, to those that carried on with bravery, willingness to contribute and the intelligence to learn new ways as became necessary.

It makes a difference knowing the character of my neighbors and the folks in the community where I socialize, volunteer and make friends. Hopefully, life-long friends. Now that I’ve lived here for two years I feel my instinct led me here like the breadcrumbs of Hansel and Gretel leading them home. Fortunately for me, no birds swooped down to eat the crumbs and I found the right place to settle.

Friday, December 14, 2007

Christmas Cards

I love sending and receiving Christmas cards! I search early in the season to find just the right cards that reflect my personality. Size is not important. I want the receivers to say to themselves, “Ah, this is just like her.” Or “Only Arlene would send this card.” I want a smile from them even if I can’t see it.

I start by loading up the CD player with some favorite Christmas songs, filling the wineglass half-full so I can have seconds without feeling piggy and to soften the mood so the sentiments will flow easily.

Next I think about what I want to say. Writing a personal note takes time. Some notes are longer than others but they’re all meaningful. The more often I fill the glass, the longer the note.
Now that I don’t see many of my friends from New Jersey often, the card is a connective thread saying, “even though we’re not in close proximity I still think of you and still consider you my friend.” As I write I think of them and the memories we’ve enjoyed together. Good memories should not be forgotten just because of physical distance. Hmm. Actually memories become more important then.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Warren County, North Carolina Ghosts

When something is meant to be, it can just drop in front of you like a squirrel dropping an acorn from a tree. That’s what happened in Oakley Hall Antique Shop in Warrenton, North Carolina a few months ago.

I was talking to owner Don Arnold; he was asking, “Are you retired or what do you do?”
“Not retired, I’m still writing. My latest book “Haunted Bordentown’ is being published by Schiffer.”
“Gee, I wish someone would write about the ghosts of Warren County.”

Another manuscript was born in that moment. Since that conversation I’ve interviewed several folks about their experiences with the ‘after-life’ population. One story has cast a thread that leads me to another………. and another.
If you live in Warren County or have brought a ghost story or a psychic experience with you, email me and we’ll record it to educate others about life-after-life.

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Latest News from England

An article in the New York Times by D.T. Max reports Lord Redesdale whose family has been in England since 1049 is taking up arms against the American Gray squirrels. The Grays are taking over the United Kingdom and replacing their Red squirrels! How odd that sounds. Somehow when I think of the Brits trying to take over our country in the 1700s, I see them as all wearing red uniforms. I never realized the squirrels sport the same color coats.

Our squirrels were brought over to England in the 19th century as an oddity, a plaything to be kept in cages. But when the aristocracy became bored and tired of their latest toy, they let them loose. Now the Grays are outnumbering the British Red squirrels. The Brits are trying to preserve their own species.

The Reds are considered well-behaved, never making a nuisance of themselves or misbehaving like the ‘you-know-who’ obnoxious squirrels do. Sounds like their common opinion of our citizens, too.

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

Just the Two of Us

This morning I woke up singing. Where does that come from? I’d no music playing in the house last night. And the song, "Just the Two of Us" was from the ‘70s, a few phrases just running around in my head. Who sent this song to me and planted it there to play and re-play until I can find something to crowd it out of my mind? I’ll never know for sure.

My son Guy Arlen’s birth day is today. He would have been 45 years old. Hmmmm. I wonder if he sent me that song. I was talking about him yesterday to a woman whose son also passed away in his 20s. It would be just like Guy to send me a song for his birthday.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Synchronicity continues

A month or so ago I regaled in the synchronicity of a lost dog twelve miles away and the thread of people and events that led him back to his grateful owners. I had no idea, even after the dog was returned, where he belonged. I needed to know only that he was home safe and sound and everybody was happy again. End of story? Not really.

I got to talking with a couple I’ve never met before at the Lake Gaston Estates Association Hors d’ourves Social Night last week. As our conversation began flowing and became more animated I mentioned sitting at the beach early in the morning to write in my journal.

“Oh, my gosh! You’re the woman who wrote our telephone number on her shirt.”

I had to laugh ‘cause I knew immediately what she was talking about. The synchronicity that led the lost dog home, led the dog’s owners to me, too. In a moment we became fast friends when this unseen thread brought us together. As we continued talking we found other similarities in our lives also.

But that’s another story.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

Golf Links

There’s nothing like stepping into a new situation and learning a new job that leads to seeing what others always saw and I didn’t. I recently started working at the Golf Links here in Lake Gaston. It took one ride in a golf cart over the hills, down the valleys, through the forests, and around the pond to have this golf course slip under my skin and open my mind.

My artist eyes feasted on the pale green of the ‘greens’ surrounded by a darker velvety green collar and another green flowing down the fairway with a different green of the rough. All this is framed by the many greens of the trees. The Carolina blue sky seems to compliment and complete the painting. Ireland’s patchwork quilt landscape came immediately to mind.

I’ve driven passed many golf courses over the years and just thought them boring. Ho hum. Where’s the excitement? Now I know. It’s here at the Golf Links.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

A Note to My New Jersey Friends

Be not afraid that I am lonely in a strange land. Some of you, dear friends, were concerned when I first left the cozy, comfortable nest of Bordentown to settle as a recluse among the forests of North Carolina seeking the solitude of a writer’s life. No more delicate teas, convivial breakfasts at the Park Street Café. No more discussion lunches with my intelligent, interesting friends. No more wine-soaked dinners on the deck of Marcello’s or inside any of the wonderful Bordentown restaurants where we recorded the memories we hold so close to our hearts.

A few of you feared for my in-activity. What would I do with all that empty time?
Relax, I’m back working part-time, this past week I’ve put in 60+ hours. I’ve been meeting wonderful people, great discussions with folks just stopping by to chat, riding golf carts like a Texan surveying his 10,000 acre ranch and enjoying myself tremendously on the job. A customer even brought me half of a pound cake (that’s not a ½ pound cake.) Sound familiar? It’s my old life in a new place. Hmmmmm. I wonder if anyone will bring me real Irish Soda Bread in March?

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Fish 'n Stuff

Journaling 7:30 in the morning while sitting on a picnic table at the beach is a lovely, peaceful way to begin the day. After a healthy walk the day seems to awaken slowly with grace. The fastest thing happening is the sun rising quickly this time of year. At least it seems too quick.

The water is still quiet without the wake of boats but I do see ‘nips’ in the water ending with circles of water moving gently. ‘The fish nibbling at the bugs in the air, appetizers’ I tell myself. But a week or so ago I saw a fish leap out of the water exposing half his body. It was a big body!

I’ve seen photos of this on covers of fishing magazines but I never thought I’d see this live! It must have been a special day ‘cause ten minutes later I found myself watching a sort of square-ish-shaped head moving around near the shoreline. I stared trying to decipher what it could be. ‘A snake’ I thought, ‘now that the rip-rap is in place.’ Later I realized it must have been a turtle with only his head showing. He was having a fun time swimming around before the crowd got there. I knew exactly how he felt.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Snow Day

While going through some files I came across a diary entry for the 6th of December 2003. If feels good just to read this in the 98-degree weather we’ve been having. It’s also a different world from my life today. Here goes :
I am fully awake at 6:30 am. Lady Jane lays at the top of my bed and Mz Lizzie is on the opposite corner. They wait patiently for me to stretch and rise. It’s been snowing now for 24 hours. Everything is covered with white including sky. Lying here, I’m thinking ‘why did I give my snow shovel to Bill Brady?’ Because it was beat up, that’s why. And I intended to buy a new one this year at the same time that I bought the sidewalk melt. But winter came on seemingly overnight. I should have parked my car in Sola & Elsie’s garage. But I didn’t even think of that yesterday, either.
Totally remodeling and moving the books into one shop has taken its toll on me. I am exhausted most of the time. I’m carrying books or finding room for stuff that hasn’t been sold on ebay yet. Today is my Holiday Open House so I’d better get up and get moving.
Lady Jane and Mz Lizzie dance around waiting for me to descend the stairs to select something good for their breakfast. When they peer out of the windows, their eyes open even wider than usual. ‘Just what is going on?’ seems to be their thoughts. They look from the outside white, to me and back again. Laughing, I tell them about snow. I’ve never seen this much snow before Christmas and we’re promised more!
By 7:30 I’m at the Farnsworth Deli. One can always rely on them being open in any kind of weather. Kinda’ grumbling, I stock up on the stuff for the Open House that I should have bought yesterday. But yesterday was my numb day. So here I am now trudging through ten inches of snow with a heavy sack over my shoulder. The air and snow isn’t really so bad though.
The Post Office is devoid of other ebayers. I am the only one here this morning. I mail another Christmas present to a lucky winner of my ebay auction. I have one less item to find room for in the bookshop. I’m rather enjoying this winter by the time I reach home.
Murat is in the shop before I even have the pot of chocolate hot. He’s been around town taking photographs. He insists that I step outside for a photo shoot. His natural joy in everything is refreshing. Not at all surprising is the number of people that have been in my shop by 11 am. On the first day of snow, everyone likes to cocoon, the second day it’s considered cabin fever. Cars are left parked where they were and everyone gets out to trek. As it quiets down a little, writing Christmas Cards seem like a good idea.

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

How it Works

If you know me at all, you’re used to hearing (probably tired of it) me talk about synchronicity. Today after my morning walk, I sat on the picnic table at the beach to journal. I was lost in thought in this peaceful time when I heard, “Miss, Miss.”

Anyone calling me ‘miss’ deserves my attention.

I looked around to see two folks, car door open seeking to ask a question. White slavers never entered my mind. One look and they would know it was a losing proposition-for them. An anxious looking woman continued, “have you seen a medium-sized black dog with a red collar? She’s very friendly. Dixie is her name. We’re down here in the Estates on vacation when a thunderbolt from the storm the other day startled her and the grandkids kinda let her get out.”

She took a much-needed deep breath. I could see she was upset. By this time I was up next to their car, leaving my journal back on the table with my water bottle. It wasn’t the black dog chasing me the other day. That was plain right away. We spoke a few minutes more. I then wrote her telephone number down on my shirt. (Good memory, but very short.)

Three hours later while I’m up to my elbows in canning tomato sauce, Laura calls me to ask if I can help a friend who found a black dog hanging around her house in the Estates for the last few days. “Red collar?” I burst out. “I have the owners’ telephone number right here.”

I think she stuttered before saying, “really?”

Synchronicity strikes again, just like Batman used to do! Or was that Wonder Woman?

Friday, July 27, 2007

Walking and Dogs

I walk early in the morning around 6:30ish, while it’s still cool and the sun isn’t blinding. I start at the beach, walk for about 45 minutes then spend time sitting atop a picnic table on the beach journaling. It’s a wonderful good-to-be-alive experience.

That is until yesterday, when three dogs, a collared white with black markings, a white with brown markings and a fully black puppy came charging up the road toward me. They were barking and angry deafening the quiet peacefulness of daybreak. Only forest, no houses were nearby so they weren’t defending any personal territory. I stopped dead in my tracks breathed deeply and waited until they got about ten feet from me. They stopped but stayed in their aggressive stance. That’s when I turned, very slowly, aware of my heart pounding but still moving very slow, I started walking back in the direction I came.

Two of them followed me. They stopped barking but continued to follow me up to the entrance to the park/beach area before they retreated to look for another victim.

Whew! It takes the joy out of walking.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Picnic on Water

Picnics and I go back a long way. Joy was a company picnic my bachelor uncle took my brother and me to each summer. It was always in some farmer’s field where we had plenty of room to run, a pond to swim in and an outhouse to use as a facility. Huge pots for corn and commercial sized grills were put to good use. These were big picnics where fifty cars filled the lot.

Then there were the family/friends picnics at the lake when it would take at least five or six cars to carry us all. We were like a procession leaving early in the morning and arriving home late at night.

My stepfather, mother, brother and I carried picnic baskets to the Jersey shore where we swam in the ocean. Mom had to call me over and over again to get me out of the water. I loved the ocean in those days. It was clean and considered healing.

Two of my sons were born in the summer so I hosted picnics for birthday parties. Lots of kids descended on our backyard to swim, eat and sing Happy Birthday.

A new picnic experience was added to my list the other night. To celebrate Laura’s birthday and Pam’s surgery recovery Macon, Lynn and I carried picnic goodies out to the pontoon boat. When we all climbed aboard, Lily did a ‘Kate Winslet on the Titanic’ stance. Lily’s a poodle and the leader of the pack.

Picnicking at sunset on the water with great friends is an awesome experience. Better than therapy or maybe it is therapy.

Saturday, July 21, 2007

Ridgeway Cantaloupes

I just returned from my second Cantaloupe Festival in Ridgeway North Carolina. This year I worked as volunteer for the Warren County Arts Council seeking new memberships. It’s definitely more fun for me to work at an event than just to visit. Somehow I seem to see more.

The event started off with a prayer and a gal singing the “Star-Spangled Banner.” All the chattering and giggling stopped throughout the fest grounds and a silence swelled up when she began to sing. It happened instantly. I don’t know how they knew at the far end of the field when she began, but the silence fell like a heavy curtain. Hearty applause followed and the happy chattering voices began again.

Heading for the ladies’ room I made an abrupt stop to check out the pretty pink 1950 Ferguson tractor. Life-size, working tractor. Neat. I love this combination of equality and femininity. Live music played off to the left under a grove of trees shading the many chairs and the stage. Over to the right a group was making handmade ice cream.

Huge pots of Brunswick Stew were bubbling up for lunch inside the air-conditioned building. A bowl of stew, slice of bread and sweet tea was $3.00. Delicious, as all the other foods and drinks offered. I saw a booth with peanuts every which way you can think of; boiled, fried, roasted, etc. and cantaloupe smoothies cold enough to cool you down in the hot sun.

Quality crafts, arts and antiques were offered, as were free gifts from the Farm Bureau and the Warren County Economic Development. I added sliced cantaloupe ‘stress balls’ and a pink cap to the bag of goodies I bought. It was a delightful day in a country atmosphere.

Monday, May 28, 2007

Rory Block Concert

An exciting example of synchronicity happened recently while at a Warren County Arts Council Board meeting. We had less than two months to spend grant money and it had to fit the guidelines of using the grant money. What to do? What to do?

A first-time attendance by neighbor Tina Terry had the answer. She’s an agent for several singers/musicians. She came to the meeting because of an item I put in our Community Newsletter. A suggestion spoken, have a concert that appeals to the demographics of our county!

We all agreed, Tina came forth with Rory Block, an acoustic guitarist, singer of traditional country blues. Rory has been recording since 1965 and is respected as an interpreter of the late, legendary Robert Johnson’s music of the Deep South.

To expand the concert to an even greater level, the Straightway Ministries Choir, gospel singers, was invited to sing with her. Blues Meets Gospel will be performed on the grounds of Magnolia Manor just south of Warrenton. To make this thrilling Saturday night, June 16th even better, the $35 value concert is free to Warren County residents. A gift from their County Arts Council. Wow!

Of course the members of the Board have done a lot of work together to put this event together and to pull it off in such a short time.

But I just happened to put an item in the newsletter, Tina just happened to read it and just happened to attend a meeting for the first time and she just happened to be representing artists that fit our guidelines. The Board just happened to pick up on a great idea. That’s synchronicity.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Haliwa-Saponi Pow Wow

The 42nd Annual Pow Wow of the Haliwa-Saponi Native Americans was held this past weekend in near-by Hollister. Because of other commitments I couldn’t get there until Sunday. Next year they will be first on my list.

I stepped into an area of a people brilliant regaled for this gathering of tribal traditions. Their appearance was awesome with feather headdresses and intricately sewn silver, beads and feathers into their attire. With the drums constantly thumping it was easy, with a little imagination, to place myself back to an earlier time. The feel of a serious gathering of tribes permeated the afternoon. No commercialism here, thankfully.
Some Apache and Lakota Sioux joined in the competition of dance and drumming for prizes up to $15,000. Several booths surrounded the outlying area of the Blessed Circle, which was lined with bleachers for folks soaking in the background and education of the tribal dances and singing. The booths offered fine crafts of silver, leather and other traditional Native items. One fellow had statues and totems of wood detailed and full of originality. It was a pleasure just to look, like being in an outdoor museum.

Monday, April 23, 2007

Rabies Shots Day

Another volunteer event for CAP went by smoothly and successfully. I was delightedly surprised that all volunteers signed up, showed up. One fellow was already in line when I arrived at 7:45. The event wasn’t scheduled to begin until 9! He was a cheerful fellow though, and jumped right in to help set up tables, chairs etc. By 8:30 there must have been ten cars lined up and the line kept growing.

Several of us took clipboard in hand to fill in the register forms, walking to each individual so no one had to leave their cars. As one gentle gal headed for a truck she heard “Shut up, Judy!” Her head jerked up and her eyes popped wide. No one ever talked to her that way! The fellow must have seen the expression on her face. “Sorry, that’s my dog’s name.” He was a bit sheepish.

Of course there is always one; one car stopped and wouldn’t start. Help came and jumped her battery. She didn’t lose her place in line, though. Her two pets got their rabies shots without extra waiting.
After a satisfying morning of working in the sun with a parade of dogs and cats, all with their own personalities, the volunteers met at the Hardware Café for a late lunch. This is where bonding of volunteers takes place-at breaking bread together after a busy day’s work. The rabies shots were free but many people gladly made donations. Dr. Amy O’Malley attended 203 animals.

Friday, April 06, 2007

The Hills are Alive

The hills are alive, not with the sound of music but with the beautiful wild pink and white dogwood trees and dark pink umbrella trees. The green of the fir trees create a backdrop like a heavy velvet stage curtain for little girls in pastel tutus.

It’s spring and the forests of North Carolina are gorgeous. The roadways are lined with tiny little light blue and white wildflowers. Wisteria runs along fences and up trees. The daffodils are still blooming after a few weeks. The forsythias are shouting, “It’s Spring! It’s Spring!” Just in case someone didn’t notice.

Green is everywhere. Great expanses of lawns look lush and thick waiting to be walked on with bare feet. The farmers’ fields are growing high with green (rye?) slightly swaying in the breeze. The Bradford Pear trees were all white a week ago, now they’re as green as the beer of an Irishman on St. Paddy’s Day.

It’s glorious!

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

My Girls

So it’s the next day after Jane’s haircut. She’s adapting. She’s come out of hiding, still quiet but at least out from under the bed. Lizzie tried to tease her a bit last night. Lizzie got a hiss from Jane. First time I ever heard a hiss from Jane, Lizzie yes, Jane never.

I did some cooing and gooing, mimicking Laura’s tone and manner. It’s working. Jane’s feeling much better this morning. She’s at her post at the front door watching and listening to the birds, including some big black crows, squirrels and rabbits.

My education in Cat has begun. I hit the PC last night seeking others with more knowledge than I on the matting of cat fur. And dandruff. Is that dandruff on her back?
Is my girl lacking in some vitamin or something? Should she stay embarrassed, like on the TV commercials? Oh my! Dandruff! Will she be shunned socially? At lease dandruff won’t show on her shirt-she doesn’t wear one.

I still haven’t found out how or why but I did learn about grooming and combing.
Something new.

Lady Jane

Poor Lady Jane is embarrassed and hiding. The fur along her spine has been matted for some time now. It looked clumped along the ridge of her back. Joe G. noticed it when he visited and mentioned it. She’s a Manx. I thought it was supposed to be like that. Duh.

Apparently not. Thanks to Laura Thompson of ‘Pride and Groom’ I’m starting my new education on cat grooming. A little late in coming but you know the old saying. She buzzed her clippers easy and gently, little by little, talking to Jane softly. Keeping her as calm as possible. Her caring and concern flowed out with each purring word she used to Jane. A pinch-full at a time, the clumps of hair came off leaving a stripe along Jane’s back. She sat perfectly still, not moving or jerking away at all. Amazing.
She’s embarrassed. I’m embarrassed. Guess I should have known it wasn’t natural. I don’t know about cats, I raised kids. Come to think of it, I used to buzz cut their hair.

Saturday, March 24, 2007

Fires 'n Stuff

About ten minutes after I arrived home from Warrenton yesterday, my neighbor Darlene called. “Y’all burning leaves over there today?” “No, why?” (Silly me) “Well ya better look out your front door, your lots on fire.”

I did and it wasn’t quite my lot, but surely looked it from her viewpoint and it could be soon enough if I didn’t stop it from coming over here.

I turned off the stove where I was preparing dinner and het on out the back door. Spring is here but I haven’t hooked up garden hoses or anything yet. This was a good time to do it. While I was trying to untangle the extra hoses, the DISH people showed up to untangle our new receiver because the first one didn’t work. Carmen went into the house and her husband graciously helped me with the hose. That fire was HOT!

Neighbor Darlene called 911, I was trying to put the fire out closest to the house. (Brother is on full time oxygen) He doesn’t even know what is going on outside cause he’s fixing his TV programs.

With most of the fire out, Reggie and his partner of the North Carolina Forest Service showed up from south of Warrenton, near Louisburg! Cavalry to the rescue! Yea! Macon Rural Fire Company followed shortly afterward. Their big powerful hoses squelched the fire quickly, soaking the area so it wouldn’t start up again after they left. They also had control further down the lot where my hoses wouldn’t reach.

Whew! Nice guys. Modern day heroes.

Friday, March 23, 2007

Bride of the Wind

The “Bride of the Wind” is a movie of Alma Mahler Gropius Werfel (nee Schindler) that I enjoy watching over and again. Each time I see it, I see something I haven’t noticed before. To me, that’s a sign of a good movie.

Based on the true story set in Victorian Vienna of Alma, the inspiration of great artists of music, architecture, fine art and literature of her time before she became a famous composer. I first claimed the movie because it featured a favorite artist Gustav Klimpt. Then I became enraptured with her story.

Jonathan Pryce plays the role of her first husband, the famous Viennese composer Gustav Mahler. The ruggedly handsome Vincent Perez plays the role of Oskar Kokaschka, painter of “Bride of the Wind” with his usual intense presence. Seeing him in this movie lead me to buying the DVD “Swept from the Sea.”
This is a real peek into the privileged and artistic life at the turn of the century in Europe. It has beautiful views of the country and the old city.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Swept from the Sea

Last night I watched the haunting movie “Swept From the Sea” made from the 30-page story “Amy Foster” written by Polish-Ukrainian Joseph Conrad depicting life in the late 1800s. Yanko leaves his village in the Ukraine and takes a ship to America but the ship crashes on the rugged coast of Cornwall, England.

At first he is taken for a wild man when he is washed up from the sea, ragged, starving and not speaking a familiar language. The quiet, outcast Amy Foster brings him a hunk of bread and washes his face when the farmer locks him up. Her tenderness touches and calms him.

The story follows their progress, his in learning to speak English, hers in learning to trust and to love. The expressions Vincent Perez emotes shows the torment and frustration Conrad must have experienced when he went to England as a young man not knowing a word of English before he arrived.

The movie spotlights the sea as Conrad has written about it in his many novels and how he must have experienced it in his many sea journeys. Perez brings his own touch of the smoldering gruffness that he brought to his role of Oskar in “Bride of the Wind.”

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Parting at Pino's

Pete and Tom planned to leave on Monday but I insisted they wait until after lunch so I could take them to the Watersview Restaurant on Lake Gaston. The food is exceptionally good and waterfront dining is always special. I wanted P & T to carry away this mental picture of their last moment in NC, for this visit anyway.

Alas! Some things are not to be. We entered the open, welcoming front door to find workmen roaming around the place. Renovations are being made and the restaurant won’t be open again until March 2.

The gracious owner reminded us that the Lakeside is not open on Mondays but Pino’s in nearby Gasburg VA is. My disappointment led to a new experience.

The interior of Pino’s is much larger than it appears from the outside with a small “no smoking” room off to the left. Even though it wasn’t crowded we chose the small room. Al was hooked up to his mobile oxygen tank looking like he carries a six-gun with a long barrel in a modern-day holster. Our waitperson greeted us happily and with a distinctive accent.

The first words spoken, “where ya from?” revealing her Jersey City roots gave us an instant connection. (Al kept wanting to call her Penny Marshall) It continued to get better with our wine served. Our salad orders went like this: Jersey girl: “Oil & vinegar?” Pete: “What dressings do you have?” Jersey girl: “Oil & vinegar.” Tom: “Balsamic vinegar?” Jersey girl: “No.” Pete & Tom: “Oil & vinegar.”

We were all happy with our dinners. Eggplant Parm, (my measure of a good Italian restaurant,) Chicken Parm, Lasagna and a Combination Special for Pete were served with garlic bread, too. Our appetites were sated and their parting memory a good one.

On their next trip down, Pete & Tom promised to bring her some fresh mozzarella and NY bagels.

Monday, February 19, 2007

Pete & Tom

My dear friends, Pete & Tom left a snowy, bitter cold New Jersey behind to come down to sunny Macon NC for the weekend. This was a perfect ending to a very hectic-if-it-can-go-wrong-it will (and it did) week. A great reunion of eating, drinking and catching up on what’s happening in our lives filled Saturday to the brim.

On Sunday, roaming around the Art Museum of North Carolina, delighting in the varied styles of art, we came upon something different. Across the wide expanse I spotted a huge face of Mona Lisa, hanging upside down. Curious, we sauntered over to check it out at close range. Devorah Sperber created “After Mona Lisa 2” out of 5,000 (+ or – please don’t rely on my numbers) spools of brilliantly colored thread. Looking through the glass globe situated in front of the artwork, the creation looked upright. It’s worth the trip to Raleigh just to see this piece. Remarkable.

Also remarkable is the lunch we ravished while listening to the grand piano playing in the background at the Blue Ridge Restaurant in the lower level. My goat cheese & rosemary tart served with a divine salad was presented on a large, white plate shaped like an artist’s palette, complete with a hole for the thumb. Neat.

Tom did a lot of ummmms devouring his burger with Roquefort cheese ‘n fries and Pete didn’t talk at all until his special plate of mole chicken (?) salad embellished with spicy deviled eggs.
We were a happy, stuffed threesome when we left.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Three Texas Women

Mimi Swartz wrote an item for the New York Times on February 3 of this year called “Lone Starlets” about three tall, in history, Texas women, Molly Ivins, Ann Richards and Nellie Connally. Since early February of this year all three have now passed over hopefully to an easier place for them to reside.

Reading Molly’s columns always gave me a “give ‘em hell” feeling toward our political leaders that came up with some asinine programs for us lesser folks to live by. She minced no words on her thoughts and feelings and had quite a readership following to prove that many people agreed with her.

Ann was another woman to fight back with straightforward but folksy words, whether it was her personal battle of smoking, drinking, divorcing or the penny-pinching politicos trying to keep the bluecollar workers from improving their lot with education.

Nellie had an entirely different battle station to wage her war. As the wife of John Connally and first lady of Texas, her place is assured in history. Moments before JFK was assassinated she assured him of the love Texas held for him.

I wonder where Maureen Dowd was born?

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Tir Na NOg Restaurant

To celebrate the end of the week with the joy of now having DSL up and running, my two burned out surge protectors replaced with better ones (and understanding this electrical system here, thanks to wonderful, patient Halifax staff) and brother Al on the mend, we made the trip to Raleigh for shopping and lunch.

Since I’m not really a shopper, as soon as we arrived within breathing distance of Raleigh, I talked Al out of going into a busy mall. I picked up a few necessaries at Art’s Art-a-rama, the art supply store that can’t be considered a mall, and thanking the universe for the small things in life, we headed into the Market Place of Raleigh. It was lunchtime.

We cruised the area but found only two restaurants open for lunch on a Saturday. I opted for the Tir Na NOg on Blount Street, a favorite of mine. They have always delighted my out-of-state guests or me when I just dropped in to treat myself.

The menu is overflowing with tempting choices reminiscent of Ireland. It’s difficult to decide which to choose. Today was no exception. Al chose my favorite, Guinness Batter-dipped Atlantic Whitefish with fries, a fresh tartar sauce and a creamy, crunchy cole slaw. It wasn’t easy, but I opted for something different. Beef & Guinness Pie, topped with flaky, tender puff pastry, a slice of bread that brought my visit to Ireland-instantly-to-my-mind. Washing it down with Killian’s Red was another wise choice. We split a dessert of Fried Ice Cream.

The low stone walls on one side that separate the bar from the dining area, the authentic road signs and the murals all add to the charm expected from Irish hospitality. When you go be sure to look up in the foyer area.
If you can arrange it, go when the live music is featured. You can check on their schedules events and hours at: TNNIrishPub.com.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Classical Music

I’ve decided I want to learn about classical music. For the last couple of years, I’ve been slowly immersing myself into it. When I find a CD I like, I’ll listen and listen and listen to it until the musical sounds become familiar to me. Second nature. But I can’t identify one composer from another. That’s my present project. Learn one composer at a time.

This all rather evolved from reading about George Sand that included her long-term love affair with Chopin. Because I have read her writings, I wanted to know his music. It paints an entire picture that way. The person and their talent cannot be separated. To know one must be to know the other.

Franz Liszt was a friend to both Sand and Chopin. His father tried to warn him “Beware of women, stick to your music.” Alas he became the playboy of the day, night actually, flitting from one society belle to another. Whether they were married or not made no difference. Top society dame, excuse me, Countess Marie d’Agoult was a passionate affair that lasted a long time. They managed to have three children and a divorce, in disgrace, from her husband. Of course in time the passion between them turned to disgust.

Liszt begged Richard Wagner not to break up the marriage of Liszt’s daughter Cosima. Ah, in the heat of passion, who listens? Wagner was a prima dona to beat all prima donas. He refused to work for money demanding that his friends support him and his expensive habits. He managed to marry Cosima. She remained with him until his death. She never again spoke to her father until the day he also died. Fascinating
I think these were the rock stars of yesteryear. For years I thought classical music and all it entailed was boring. Boy was I a dummy.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Waiting for a Phone Call

One of the worst moments of time wasted is waiting for someone to call. It doesn’t make any difference whether the expected call will be with good news or bad news. It’s the waiting that is awful. It’s nearly impossible to concentrate on something else, or be productive while I’m waiting. That thought just keeps hanging in the back of my mind ‘don’t use the telephone in case the call is trying to come through.’ Of course, that’s the time when I need to use the phone. And I don’t make calls often, only when necessary. I chat with my friends in person or by email, rarely by telephone.

I can wait easily three hours or more to use the bathroom, but when I’m waiting for a phone call……..I gotta go, now. Five minutes later, I gotta go, again. What about a shower? The best way to have the telephone ring is to get into the shower, even better if I am shampooing, too. Another good way to get the telephone to ring is to sit down to a meal. A hot meal works best that way it can get cold while I’m answering the phone.

Even worse is when I’m waiting for that important call, the phone rings, I gulp the mouthful of food or wrap a towel around my soapy body, rush to answer it and it’s a local charity looking for a donation. Egads! No wonder I hate telephones!

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

The Dentist

Does anyone else still have the dread of going to the dentist? I do. I’m fine once I get there. But just the thought that I have to go there, today, unnerves me. There is no fear since the modern tools of dentistry are so refined that pain is obsolete. Maybe it’s having someone’s hand in my mouth. I don’t even like someone putting words in my mouth, let alone their hand. That’s just about the time he’ll ask you a question. I always wonder if the question is sincere, since it’s impossible to answer it. By the time you can answer, he is onto something else.

Waiters do the same thing. They seem to wait until you have a mouthful of food then ask, “Is everything alright? Can I get you anything else?”

Maybe it’s the way a dentist makes me feel like a child, insinuating my gums and teeth aren’t perfect because I haven’t been brushing properly, or only brushing six times a day instead of ten times.
Anyway, the only way to get over it, is to go to it. Get it over with, then wonder why I fussed so much about it.

Friday, January 19, 2007

Coco Chanel

Yesterday I finished reading the 337-page biography “Chanel, A Woman of Her Own” by Axel Madsen (which is a family name in another book I finished reading last night. How weird is that?) Usually I like a book to ‘settle’ on me after I finish reading it and before I write about it. This book bothers me.

Coco, her father’s affectionate name for her, spent her youth in an orphanage in France but never admitting it in her recollections. Her given name was Gabrielle. That was about all of her early years she would admit to, making up various stories to suit her fancy. Her one sister died young. The other as a young, unhappily married woman who Coco refused to send money to Canada to bring her back to France as she so desperately wanted. The two brothers received money from her, at her initiation, to stay in the background and not have it publicly known they were family. After World War II her nieces came to Paris to meet her, curious about this famous aunt of theirs, but she would not admit them to her home.

She married only her business “The House of Chanel” but consented her two great loves, the ones that truly touched her heart, were Boy Capel, killed in an auto accident and Bendor, the Duke of Westminster. Her numerous lovers included other royalty and the wealthy of the day.

She died a multi-millionaire, alone, without leaving a sou to any of her family. She left everything to her butler in a will. Mysteriously the will disappeared. The core of her fortune began and grew in France but she chose to be buried in Lausanne, Switzerland.

Her designs are still worn in good taste today.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Painting with Gal-Pals

Having friends of one’s own sex is important. Guys may bond in different ways but a lot of women gather for coffee conversations, quilting, book groups, and/or lunches. I find myself delightfully rich in the fact that I have gal-pals to paint with.

We’re not doing walls and ceilings (though who knows what the future may bring) we’re doing canvasses. And while we lay our paints out to create something beautiful to see, we solve the problems of the world. Wonderful expressions are released, verbally and visually. If only the world would listen, or a neighbor or an associate, or ……………. What a lovely place it would be. No antagonisms, no violence, no attacking others in trying to make ourselves look good.

Can you possibly view a Monet and feel anger? Maybe CEO Boardrooms should install easels.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

August Albo

In thinking about the Strauss Waltz painting, I had to find the artist, which as I noted was August Albo. It surprised me how easily I found that information by just describing the painting. Then I had to go further and find out who this guy is, or was. Now that was a bit more difficult.

He was Estonian, lived from 1880s to 1960s, (unofficial) studied in the Russian Royal Academy, a recognized artist in Moscow, Switzerland, Spain and St. Petersburg with exhibitions in Paris and Berlin. He wound up in New York City. Never did he learn any English but people who commissioned him for portraits, etc. brought their own interpreters. All the background on Albo I found was from internet sites on forums, etc. I didn’t find his name listed on any formal lists of artists. He also painted under other names including Rod Palmer.

What surprised me further was that he did another well-known painting “Free as the Wind” that portrays a herd of wild stallions running before a brewing storm. Their tails and manes are flowing in the wind. Looking into the painting I could feel the wind on my face and the feeling of their freedom, galloping over the plain.
That painting hung in my living room at the same time the Waltz was in my dining room. I never realized the two paintings were by the same artist. Only that both appealed to me in a strong sense.

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Strauss Waltz Painting

It just wasn’t a night for sleeping. After lying in bed with “Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme” running through my head, the “Strauss Waltz” painting by August Albo popped into my head and the Strauss Waltz music replaced Simon & Garfunkle. I guess someone in the great beyond wanted me to remember him. I felt like getting out of bed and dancing around the room. Instead, I slipped out of bed, (not to disturb the girls curled up on either side of my legs,) plucked two chocolate chip cookies from the kitchen cake dish and turned the computer on.

“P S R & T” connected me to the days of when it was played on the radio everyday. That connected me to my dining room where my five-foot long, beautiful walnut classic Italian cabinet held the stereo and radio. Above it the “Strauss Waltz” print set the pace for the many dinner parties I gave in that room.

Remembering that painting makes my heart dance. Gaiety, the beauty of the crystal chandeliers reflecting in the huge mirrors, the pastel ball gowns of the women and formal tails of the men in the romantic period of the late 1800s, send their joy out to anyone who will peer into it. Just look at the painting, see the dancers floating; their images shining on the marble floor. You need little imagination to hear the resultant sounds of Johann Strauss Jr. conducting his orchestra. A lovely sound to carry me to sleep, perhaps to dream pleasant dreams of days long gone.

Monday, January 08, 2007

Songs & Memories

A song keeps going through my head as I try to go to sleep, normally an easy thing to do. But tonight for some reason “Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme” is running through my mind. I have no clue where it came from, I didn’t hear it at all today and I don’t remember seeing anything that would make me think of it. I can’t remember the last time I did hear it.

With the song, memories come of another time and other people that I haven’t seen in many years. Some I will never see again, it’s been that long ago that the song was popular and on everyone’s lips. But songs have a way, almost like photographs, that kick up a memory like an old movie running in the background. Haunting.
For those of an age, what was going on in your life, when Simon & Garfunkle were still partners, creating those wonderful songs, memories that just never leave you. Do you also remember the thoughtful and interesting cover art on the LP jackets? I can see it now, in subdued colors, a leather jacket, faces expressing their feelings. Songs and memories.

Saturday, January 06, 2007

Raleigh First Friday

Last night Peggy and I met Lynn and Steve in Raleigh and went to the First Friday Art Space artist’s reception. Marvelous! Peggy introduced us to Warren County born-and-bred Dianne Rodwell. Her art space is full of results of her multi-talents in the art field.

I have been to the “Monet in Normandy” showing at the NC Art Museum. Dianne has been to Monet’s home and gardens in Giverny where he painted these wonderful works of art and on to Provence to Van Gogh’s home. While I didn’t have a stash of cash to spend on art works, I did invest in a couple of her post cards. I know just who is going to receive them.

I was impressed with the appearance of this City Market area at night. Balls of tiny white lights the size of soccer balls hung from the trees, molded designs in tiny white lights filled walkways so even if I were alone, I wouldn’t be afraid to walk through them. They also had some delightful ‘window murals,’ that is murals painted to look like windows.

We eventually made our way to the Tir Na Nog for a hearty dinner reminiscent of Ireland, live Irish music and even an Irish dancer or two. That’s a great restaurant if you’re Irish at heart or lineage. All the restaurants seemed to sport live music of one kind or another. An ample number of people came out for this spring-like night on Raleigh’s First Friday. I highly recommend it.

Thursday, January 04, 2007

The Girls

The term “The Girls” as I refer to them, came easily after birthing four sons, having two brothers, raised in a neighborhood full of boys and marrying three guys. One at a time, that is, with a little leeway in between.

So when these two adorable rescued kittens were first placed in front of me like gift boxes to choose from, I took both. Sisters, even with different fathers, shouldn’t be separated. Plus I travel often so they are company for each other when I’m gone. They don’t appreciate that I planned that consideration for them. They sense my plans days before I even take my travel bag out of the closet. Their upturned faces show me the saddest of eyes tugging at my inner softness. It makes me not want to go anywhere and I have always loved to go, anywhere.

That’s also when they begin adhering to my ankles, in front of, rubbing the sides of and tangling in between. Sometimes I’m nearly tripping just trying to stand up. It seems as though invisible glue keeps them in place. I step, they step, I sit, they sit, I breathe, they breathe.

They are Lady Jane and Mz Lizzie. The Bennet sisters from Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice.” Jane was upgraded to a titled ‘Lady’ because she is; just like Jane in the story. Her personality and being born minutes earlier gives her the older sister air. She’s also shy and reserved, but can romp (like a rabbit) beside Lizzie when encouraged. She’s a Manx. Black and white, no tail.

Lizzie follows Elizabeth’s personality. She’s daring, impish, funny and cuddly. I can sometimes see an idea forming by a light popping up in her eyes. She’s full of life and energy. She can talk the ears off an elephant. She’s a calico born with a bent two-inch tail.

They are blessings in my life.

Monday, January 01, 2007

New Year Tradition

Traditions of cooking on New Year’s Day have changed quite a bit in some households since the fever of football has taken over. Nibbles and snacks hold appetites at bay until the real dinner is served. Foods that go a long way to feed a house full of people, or not, are a great idea.

Following in my mother’s teachings, I cook Pork and Sauerkraut with Potatoes for good luck in the coming year. It’s an old German custom handed down from her mother and grandmother. Of course they made their own sauerkraut from cabbage harvested in the fall.

Mom told me, “Sauerkraut in huge barrels lined the cellar. Grandmother would send me down with a pot to bring some up. I hated going downstairs but would eat handfuls of the kraut before I filled the pot. That was my reward for facing the fears of a dark, scary basement.”
I buy mine is a plastic bag.