The Silver Linings

On Wednesday, we met for lunch and a tour of the Kousa Creek Southern Living Idea House. It was a glorious fall day. We heard about the Golf Digest LPGA house with its 9,000 fabulous square feet and toured it, too. We posed for pictures on the stairs at Kousa Creek and in the 'locker room' near the indoor putting green in the other. We lunched and laughed and looked. Joyce looked at the view, Jane looked at the kitchen, Mary looked at storage, Janice looked at bathtubs, Emily looked at toilets, Eddie looked at the cabinets and I looked at art. Each of us found things to love . . . and reasons to not move in tomorrow.

"We" are a group of women who crossed a stage together almost 50 years ago to receive our high school diplomas and now are looking forward to the BIG Reunion.

So several times a year, we have a Girls' Day Out to plan ahead, to look back, to make new friends of old acquaintances or perhaps to make new acquaintances of old friends. . . . Sometimes there are twenty or so; this time there were only seven of us. Oddly, all seven have a connection to the same Junior High and four have a connection to the same church. Each of us was born in 1941 and, with my November birthday, I was teased for being the youngest. It didn't even seem strange, that at our age, we would mark the difference of months just like we did in our teens and, by the end of the week, I was no longer the only one at 65.

As the sun slanted through the tall Georgia pines and brilliant oaks, we began to feel the pull back home and the responsibilities waiting at the end of our 100 mile drive. None of us had ever been "best friends" and our lives had taken us in the usual different directions, but on this day, in the midst of exploring, we were surprised to make a few new connections. We were reluctant to end the day.

It seems that, like the gray clouds which began to cover the sun as the day ended, getting older sometimes comes with silver linings.


AAB

Photo of the Day: High Art

Sometimes we forget that art is everywhere. Even when we forget our sketchbooks, pencils, brushes or paints, art is still there. Sometimes we just miss it.

These three photos were taken in a half hour time span. All three were quick shots; the first two from a moving vehicle and the third from a mall parking lot. I could not choose just one.

High Art. Glorious.


AAB

All the Proper Parts

After last weekend's family wedding, I decided that a 'successful' wedding is very much like a 'successful' painting. All the proper parts are there, carefully selected for their particular contributions, yet when things go awry, as they often do in the church or the studio, few need to know about struggles, mishaps or changes in the plan. It's the results that count.

Like his sister earlier in the summer, my nephew wanted his wedding to be very personal. Like his sister, he and his bride chose a place which has had a long time family connection. Like his sister, they planned for the simplicity of a very old place of worship in the country (a place I've mentioned before.) Like his sister, he asked if I would 'direct' the day.

I came prepared with my lists. What time everything needed to occur. When everyone needed to arrive. Who would be seated when and where. What the order of the processional and recessional would be. What not to do (don't chew gum, turn off cell phones, don't jingle change in your pockets.) The minister gave a few instructions, we rehearsed and we were ready!

The next day, I dressed in black as did the bridesmaids, wrapped my favorite pink scarf -- an impulse purchase in France last year -- around my shoulders and slipped on my bright pink Crocs. I walked from my little house in the bright fall air (a glorious day), tucked my 'real' shoes on a back pew, gave last minute instructions to the groomsmen, stopped to check on the bride's attendants to see that dressing was going well (lovely), hugged my favorite flower girl (the little red-head, of course), and headed across the grounds (the reason for the Crocs) to the open air, rustic tabernacle . Things were going well -- predictably well.

It was then that I realized that the musician was not present; she showed up just as I wondered how much wedding music I could remember how to play. The mothers' corsages would not stay on with the magnets supplied; I raced to the nearby reception hall to retrieve some straight pins. As I signaled for the first bridesmaid to begin the processional, I realized I had not sent the groomsmen down; I signaled to them after half the girls were in place hoping no one would notice. The flower girls and the ring bearer were perfect until they started down the white aisle runner toward the altar; all three stopped in their tracks with puckering faces and I gave up as they raced toward their mothers.

Finally, everyone was in place except the bride who had begun her processional with her father under an orange and gold canopy of crepe myrtle trees. I turned and spotted her as she floated through the sun and shadows of the old trees and the wind lifted her veil. I knew my job was finished and I took my place among the guests in my 'good' shoes.

A memorable wedding.
An unforgettable painting.

They happen when All the Proper Parts are in place and are sprinkled with an unexplainable and unique magic.


AAB

An Election Day

I manage a voting location for County Board of Elections which has two separate precincts with two distinctive groups of voters and only one was open on Tuesday. The day is long - beginning before 6:00 AM and ending near 9:00 PM. Occasionally I have a disgruntled, confused or ornery voter, but, on the whole, "my" voters are great!

This time, there were several unique challenges which made the day interesting. We were in a new building at our regular location, but people found us. We managed to assist our first blind voter who had no problem using the equipment with the earphones and keypad. We had only one race on the ballot with only two candidates. We had to check each voter for one of five types of photo ID and had no problems.

While it is not unusual for only one of our two precincts to be voting because of staggered terms for the Districts, the biggest challenge was explaining to the 15% who came that they could not vote. I could not decide if they should be commended for being faithful and loyal voters or if they should be chided for being uneducated and unprepared.

It was an interesting Election Day.

AAB

Quote of the Day: Email is . . .

. . .we now trust email as a magical, instant and secure communications tool. It's not. It's sort of a cross between CB radio and two cups and a string.
. . . Seth Godin

10-4

Attitude

My nephew's wedding today will be in the country with no convenient restaurant nearby so we pitched in to help my sister with last night's rehearsal dinner. I used black and wine cloths topped with pumpkins, leaves and tiny chrysanthemums for the tables.

As I laundered the cloths, Lucy loved the way the shiny fabric felt. I loved the way she reminded me of Monet's painting of his wife in a kimono or perhaps a John Singer Sargent painting of . . . almost anyone.

I think it's the Attitude.



AAB

Trick or Treat!

AAB

We're Ready. Are You?

Last year, in my blog reading, I found a lovely little poem by Sandra Liatsos. Here is the beginning. . . . It seems to fit today (I apologize that I didn't note the blog.)

"Halloween Wind"
The wind came trick-or-treating
down our quiet street.
It rattled all the windows, and then we heard it beat
on every door of every house
where shutters banged and clattered. . . .

I've mostly been skipping Halloween in the last few years. It seems more fun this year.We've decorated. (Lucy added the chalk on floor and windows.)We've shopped for treats.We've tried on costumes.We've practiced Trick or Treating.

We're ready, are you?
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

AAB

Photo of the Day: The Curiosity of Shoes

There they were. Lined up between two garbage cans as neatly as in a closet. Just waiting on the curb.

They were comfortably worn, but not worn out. Yet there they were. I speculated on the reason for the change in a whole wardrobe of shoes. New job. Bad knees. Sex change . . . .

Except for the sneakers, they were all gone the next morning.

Curiosity. Brain food for artists.

AAB

To Just Celebrate Beauty

This week, the moon appeared high in the dining room window. It was not a full moon, but in the clear sky, it glowed with charm. I pulled everyone from the table and we went to the porch for a better look. The five of us sat quietly on the front steps -- my daughters, granddaughters and I -- and celebrated it's beauty. We thought about my son-in-law under that same moon on the other side of the world. Younger daughter sang a short moon song for the little ones and, suddenly, I thought of my moon viewing experience while in Japan.

I decided to make this a special occasion. I returned inside to prepare an impromptu treat. I didn't have a pampas grass arrangement on the table or sweet bean dumplings like my Japanese hostess, Mrs. Kimura, but I did have some very special dishes and I scooped tiny ice cream balls to mimic the dumplings. I placed the tiny dishes and the large plate of moon-colored balls in the freezer and returned to the porch. Soon the night grew chilly and we said, "Good night, moon." I retrieved the cold treats and explained the significance of the moon shape and grass patterns on the gray glaze which had been created in one of the oldest pottery areas in Japan. Older daughter contributed some very thin Moravian ginger cookies which we learned to love while living near Old Salem, NC. I think I'll try to plan ahead next year for the October Harvest Moon, but this was a pretty neat party.

Will the little ones remember a celebration of the moon at their grandmother's house? Will it be one of those experiences which pops up as an unexpected memory like this one for me? Will it become part of who they are? Will they watch the moon and think of tiny scoops of ice cream served with tiny spoons and wonder why? Will they learn to just celebrate beauty?

A Note: During my years of participating in Sister City exchanges with Takarazuka, Japan, I had many unique experiences. Generally, I traveled alone with an exhibition which I helped uncrate and install. Each day during the exhibition, I was hosted by some wonderful people and given the assistance of an interpreter and sometimes a driver. At some point, the official schedules shifted as old friends began to request my time for a particular day, a special meal, or just to visit in their homes. So, I was invited to go their favorite temple or shrine in the mountains, to visit shopping districts, local craftsmen and museums, to share seasonal meals and family celebrations.

At the end of each visit, there was an official gift which the mayor of the city presented to me. On my last trip, he suggested that I select my own! I was a little stunned. I would be accompanied on this shopping trip by a couple of city of officials. I asked if there was a budget. It was a challenge -- perhaps a test! My choice must fit the budget, be an appropriate official gift, indicate that I had learned something about the culture and . . . be something I liked. As I opened my special dishes, the mayor was the only one who was surprised. He approved.

AAB