Feeling Almost Like Spring

I keep expecting that days will come when I feel like myself again.  It's been a long, strange year and a half and I still feel like I've had the rug pulled out from under me.  (Not the real rug, good heavens, at least I still have the rug. And as the Dude says, "it really pulls the room together", no matter where we have landed!)

Living near Chicago can make for the cultivation of an interesting wardrobe, since one needs clothes that work from -20 F. all the way up to well over 100.  It can be a pain, but it keeps life interesting.  Just when the closet feels filled with old, boring clothes we pack them away to sit just long enough that they'll feel like a new wardrobe when they come back out.  This year I feel extra blessed!  A bunch of my summer clothes were in storage last year and couldn't be found.  I was so pleased when my things were found (along with some of my favorite art books!) at the very back of the storage locker a few weeks ago.  It was like getting a shipment of custom designed spring clothes; just my size, perfectly suited to my taste.  It helped me to feel more normal . . . and just in time for the long over-due warmer weather. 

I noticed that the Vermont Country Store is selling my favorite Watercolor Dress again.  I would certainly recommend it as an investment for anyone who likes spring colors.  But mine - after some 18 months packed away - is the best.  It feels like spring.  It feels like normal!

Christmas Memories

Happy Family and one cat who is in heaven with the fascinating boxes and gift wrap.

Epiphany Greetings

Merry Christmas to all...
and to all -

"Epiphany Greetings".
This past year has been quite something.  And I would be less than honest if I didn't admit that moving twice in less than 12 months didn't take something of a toll on me - physically and mentally.  And I'm not even counting the sore shoulder I woke up with this morning. That would be from my foray onto the basketball court at Lilyanne's birthday party yesterday.  Perhaps the bounce house would have been a safer choice. Or sticking to trying to spin a basketball on one finger. Oh, a Harlem Globetrotter I will never be!

But we are settled into our home and it's finally beginning to feel 'homey' to me. Of course Christmas did help. Having the tree set up - complete with most of our favorite ornaments, though minus the 100 pieces of hand-tooled Victorian style tinsel - gave the house a feeling of continuity.  Next year should be even better as we find where more of the Christmas stuff is packed away.

At least Gangy didn't offer to spin the cake on one finger!

And I'm (albeit a few days late) making good on my New Year's resolution to blog more and kvetch less.

Reading while moving...

Finally, we're moving into our place.  Having moved twice since November, it's a little more tedious than exciting.  But it is going to feel so good when we've got everything sorted and into place!

I'm squeezing in a little time fore reading, too.  I just got a copy of Heather King's new book and am devouring it.  I've loved Heather's other books - and this book looks like it may be her best yet.  Will write more about it when I'm finished.  This is much more enthralling than "The Devil Wears Prada" which I had started reading as a diversion.  Definitely will finish "Stripped" before I finish wading my way through the travails of the fashion publishing industry.

Peacock Eye!

I'm not ready to commit to a tattoo.  If I stall long enough I'll make it through life tattoo free.  But I occasionally see tattoos I admire.  When I attended a Flannery O'Connor conference in Chicago several years ago I met a young woman who had the most exquisite peacock feather tattooed on her forearm and part of her hand.  If only it had been a temporary tattoo that could have been purchased at the conference bookstore - I'd have taken as many as possible!

Pinterest has had some stunning peacock eye makeup ideas. So...in the interest of mother/daughter fun time I asked Bridget if she would like to try giving me a peacock eye.  Just for fun.  Heaven knows she has multiple palettes of all the right colors.  Here it is.  Not too bad for a first attempt.  Not that I would leave the house looking like this, of course.  Of course.

This was not easy to remove. The blue was very...persistent!

What?

Me? Worry?  Well, I'm trying not to worry but everything has been a little trying lately.  So yeah, I have moments of worry.  It was pretty funny when I did a Google image search for my name.  Lots of funny stuff plus my old friend Alfred E.  So for old times' sake...

In the course of a meeting yesterday the problem of "Google issues" was discussed.  I don't exactly have Google issues.  Except that Googling myself brings up Alfred E. Newman.  There must be a deeper meaning beyond the fact that he's appeared in this blog before.  Deep.  But I won't lie awake worrying about it.

Holding Down the Fort

anxious and troubled about a few things.  First of all, holding down the fort when we're between forts.  Our time was up at our temporary house - and not a moment too soon* - two weeks ago.  Not having found the right place at the right price, we are currently split between two places.  My commute is getting to be a bit taxing, though I must admit I was spoiled by all the years of having a 7 minute drive
to work.

I guess I am still more of a homemaker than I thought, since I feel a bit at loose ends without my own space to 'make.' But I do find enough "Martha-ish" things to do in the course of a day.  And managed to find the time to write something about Ss. Martha and Mary, which I was so tempted to subtitle, Yes, We Could Clog a Dyson!



*it was the random gunshots that really wore our nerves thin. That and the crackhead who lived in the basement. Though the dog never quite was acclimated and went into a real funk when the daily fireworks began as soon as the whether warmed up.  Everyday was the Fourth of July in that neighborhood.  And July 4th itself was like a war zone.

If I Must Spend a Lot of Time With a Cat. . .

When you're done with this, I have some old New Yorkers  you may enjoy!

. . . I prefer it to be a literate cat.  Maybe not such a magazine hog, but still.  So - do I send a little catnip for Christmas or add him to the Vanity Fair gift subscription list?

And why am I suddenly hanging with cats?  Our time was up at the 'temp' house (thank the Lord - it was becoming too strange to continue living there) and we don't have a place lined up yet.  So Bee and I are crashing with Fran, Martha and the literate cats.  Hope this doesn't last too long, though it sure beats living with a crackhead in the basement and a nightly torrent of fireworks and the occasional gunshots.  (Independence Day was a barrage of noise and chaos, from which one of the dogs has not recovered.  I think he has canine shell-shock) 

We're Out of Cornflakes . . .

"I can't take it anymore, Felix, I'm cracking up. Everything you do irritates me. And when you're not here, the things I know you're gonna do when you come in irritate me. You leave me little notes on my pillow. Told you 158 times I can't stand little notes on my pillow. "We're all out of cornflakes. F.U." Took me three hours to figure out F.U. was Felix Unger!"

Those building block Kleenex boxes are always lending themselves to (young?) shoppers' shenanigans.  Bee and I brought the Odd Couple spirit while at Target yesterday.  I tried to take the picture quickly, as paper goods was a very busy aisle.  Where were the gales of laughter?  No Felix Unger fans there, I guess.  Though one man thought my taking picture of a Kleenex display was mildly amusing.  Make that perplexing.  He was just perplexed.

Of all the inappropriate toys...

that my children managed to  smuggle into church, there never was a (toy) sword.  A sword? How did the child behind me at Mass this morning manage to bring a sword - albeit of the foamy variety - to church?  Hate to do a "if that was my child" but...if that was my child, the sword would have been confiscated and placed in a secure location. (i.e, behind mother's derriere until church was over; then it would be sentenced to a high shelf in the parents' closet for a certain punitive duration.)  I'm not a crank.  I like those foamy toy swords.  We've had a lot of fun with them over the years, just as we've also enjoyed the sport of fencing/walloping with swim noodles.  Now that plants a very bad image in my mind - children bringing 'noodles' to church....  Oy. That would demand more than a stink-eye to the parents.  One might need to call an usher.  Or the pastor.

Calling St. Anthony!!! Again...

So, it is the Feast of St. Anthony of Padua .  Time to ask for one more favor.  There's the matter of the TJMaxx giftcard that I bought for B's birthday last week.  Still haven't found it!  Giving someone a homemade gift card to be redeemed for a lost gift card shows I am at the nadir of my organizational skills.  The absolute nadir. 

Greetings from a beat up 15 inch MacBook . . .

• Another June...more birthdays.  Our Irish Princess has her birthday on Friday.  (Yes, The Omen jokes continue after all these years. There are NO 6s on her scalp. I, the doctor, and, as Clairol would say, her hairdresser know for sure.) I didn't do the Bees on the Lawn thing this year.  The bees are in storage and I'm not too sure how a lawn full of dozens of plastic bees would play with our landlord and new neighbors.  (Us and our "crazy white people" customs).  Did make some shabby chic paper bees, which Bridget found whimsical.  She said shabby chic.  My thought was more along 'pathetic attempt.'  One of her gifts from us was a TJMaxx gift card; which I lost before I could wrap it.  I know I put it in a safe place.  Still waiting on a little help from St. Anthony - so I made a gift card to redeem for a gift card!
• My father would have turned 89 yesterday.  The story about that British WWII vet who walked away from his rest home to join other veterans in France on Friday reminded me of my father.  Men who, while still in their teens, defended their countries and faced unspeakable horrors and losses developed a strength that is not easily tamed by illness nor frailty.  They are not easily shushed and "now, now, that'll do"-ed into submission.
• Despite its embarrassing vulgarities, Silicon Valley has been my favorite television show.  Something about it 'speaks to me.'  The part of me that feels like I've spent the last decade (or more) living in a tech incubator of sorts.  And, of course, I'm writing this on my beat up 15 inch MacBook Pro with stupid stickers.   I should remember to grab one of the Pied Piper stickers that I made as a birthday gift for Chuck.  That's the sticker touch this MacBook needs.
• Watching too many British medical shows has left me with the habit of addressing Franny as Sister.  And asking how soon she'll be promoted to Matron.  (London Hospital is fabulous.  Based on factual hospital records, memoirs, and news stories...it gives a fascinating and realistic reminder of how much the practice of medicine has progressed in the last 100 years.  I hope Sister Frances gets time to watch it.  She'll love it.  And if she thinks her 60/40 poly-cotton scrubs are uncomfortable, the nurses' uniforms at the London will make her very thankful! Those poor nurses feet didn't have anything wonderful like Dansko's either) 
• My at-home-working-on-my-laptop glasses make me look like Dominick Dunne in drag.  Or perhaps I flatter myself.
• TV has been my go-to distraction since our move.  At least when my eyes are too tired for reading.  And often while I am reading.  But I did get to see an advance screener of a great movie "Ida".  This is better for review writing, as I could watch it several times, go back to rewatch certain parts, and double check any quotes.  "Ida" is so good that it's worthy of a trip to Renaissance Place to watch on the big screen.  Maybe next week...this week-end has been awfully full and time grows short.
• I'm buoyed by the weather forecast for the next five days.  Nothing too hot.  So next Saturday we'll go to Costco to get a couple air conditioners to keep us alive when the weather takes a turn for the 'hot' that the TV weather persons rhapsodize about from their air conditioned studios.  Hot weather is fun when you have a retreat to cool off and dehumidify.
• The cooler weather is also nice since I can delay the air conditioner in my window at work.  It is a necessity in a second floor office of a flat roofed former convent built in the 1950s.  (I don't know how the sisters survived.  When the temps get into the 80s, the second floor is a little slice of hell on Church property.)  Last year I didn't request the AC until the first week in July.  It is a necessity - but with the downside of turning each office into an isolated, claustrophobic pod with a giant white noise machine.  But it beats sweating on the paperwork.  And the computer.  And sticking to my chair.

Home is Wherever I'm with You

We few, we happy few, we band of sisters and brothers...

All this mother needs for a happy Mother's Day.  The fetes and gifts are lovely, but having this beautiful band of brothers and sisters to look upon is all I need.  We've been through a lot these past six months, but as long as I have them I have home.

My heart breaks for those who can't wait for today to pass, as the losses they have sustained make Mother's Day a time at the foot of the Cross rather than one of revelry.

I must not forget the mothers who cam before me.  My own mother, for whom I always made Mother's Day something of a trial.  Thank God, I grew out of that.  And then had children of my own, which really made understand how wonderful my mother was. She made it look so easy.

And there are the grandmothers I never knew.  My mom lost her mother when she was 16.  My father lost his mother at the unimaginable age of 7.  I finally paid a visit to my paternal grandmother's grave last November.  Touched by her epitaph, but not really surprised.  For whatever else I may accomplish in life, my greatest pride is in those six jolly jokers above.  (As something of a joker myself, I broke the solemnity hanging over us as we returned to the car and mentioned that my headstone would have room for only five children's names and the next person to incur my wrath would be omitted.  Just joking  I love them all - they are marvelous.  And they all also, forget to replenish toilet paper, misplace car keys, call me on my morning to sleep in.)

"Loren's Mother"

The angels have not

been blessed with such a

grace. They cannot share in

God's creative miracle to bring

new saints to Heaven. Only a

human mother can. Mothers

are closer to God the Creator

than any other creature; God

joins forces with mothers in

performing this act of

creation... What on God's

good earth is more glorious

than this: to be a mother?

—Joseph Cardinal Mindszenty

Pink Flats with Bows

I couldn't.  I wouldn't.  I wouldn't if I could. 
As a person who tries to keep it simple - I mean, I love wearing my Crocs - and so admires the Holy Father's call to simplicity and the less blingy life, I would be somewhat embarrassed to wear Chanel flats.  But...also as a person who couldn't walk in any kind of heels if my life depended on it, I do appreciate the plethora of really nice and good looking flats that are available these days.  And these keep catching my eye on the internets. They'rs pink.  They're flats with bows!!!  (I know about algorithms....and how they are used to tickle my shoe interest.  Some bot out there knows me a little too well. Flats. With bows. Pink!)

No.  I wouldn't buy them.  Even through a discount online consignment concern they are too freakin' "splooey"*. [I go through great mental debate about buying $20 flats at Target, so these are about $430 over my price range. Ha!]  But if someone has them and is moved to give them to the poor....yes, I would wear them if they were left on my doorstep.  Because alms givers needs alms receivers, right?**  Size 10...Wide.

*von Hubenism for conspicuous consumption.
**three of my four daughters wear the same size, so I could be a giver and/or at least sharer, too!  In fact, I'd feel so guilty having them in my possession I would have to pass them along!

Playing Favorites

I did a little blog piece on Fr. Barron's Word on Fire blog for the Feast ofAnnunciation ...narrowed down my favorite Annunciation paintings to ten.  There are so many that paring it down to ten wasn't easy.  But here I can divulge my favorite of the favorites!  Henry Ossawa Tanner's Annunciation from 1898.  Less detailed than some other works, but still containing many elements common to the subject matter.

In looking into the symbolism of the Annunciation I found so many things I hadn't known before.  It was too much to go into in a preamble to ten beautiful paintings that I simply referred to them as "Holy Easter Eggs" - you know, in the non-edible, non-Easter Easter egg sense. 

Of all the Gabriels, in all the Annunciation paintings I've looked at, Tanner's is brilliant.  The dynamic yet soft vision of light that we see is  not what Mary is seeing.  We are given a glimpse into a moment of universal significance, yet Tanner is able to tell the story while preserving the intimacy of the moment.  This was a risky undertaking....a lesser artist could well have tried this and been left with something utterly laughable.  But Tanner made it work. 

Not Ruined

Not that I have had time to read Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald.  But I really liked this ad.  Liked  it so much I could adopt it this quote as another motto.  Though "We never, ever do nothing nice and easy...." has served my family well over the years.  Not that actually we do things nice and rough....as much as it may appear to some.  Just nice and, well, not easy.

No Kvetching Zone

When I set out to write 7 Ways to Observe Lent in the Home for Fr. Robert Barron's Word on Fire Blog, the first item that came to mind was my annual giving up of kvetching.  I'm not kvetching about it - it's just so much easier said than done.  Especially during a winter that has made kvetching about the weather the basis of everyday conversation in the Chicago area.  Finally we have a sunny, warmish (in the fifties!!!) day; it's been a long, long time since I've been able to greet people with, "What a gorgeous day!" 

As Chicagoans know, it won't last.  Good or bad, it never lasts.  The seasons here provide a seasoning to our daily existence.  And the necessity for multiple wardrobes (e.g., warm-Spring, cool-Spring, cool-Summer, nice-Summer, insufferable-Summer etc. )  Which makes life interesting.  And provides us with days on which we are not led into the temptation to kvetch!

Ninjestrians. Add this to the OED stat!

We always called the darkly dressed walkers (usually walking with traffic...seriously!) "ninjas".  I thought this was maybe just a vH family pet peeve and then I saw this on a Cracked.com piece about 30 words that should be added to the English language.  So we're not alone in our extreme dislike of those who appear to be asking to be hit.  Add this word to the OED dictionary stat - that will happen faster than people could be educated not to walk in the dark dressed like ninjas!

It's been a bad winter for near misses with ninjestrians.  If I thought ninjestrians were bad back in the Smith Avenue neighborhood I was extremely deluded. Our new neighborhood has a lot of people who need to walk everywhere; combined with a lack of sidewalks or sidewalks even reasonably shoveled.  Everyday has a near miss with a ninjestrian.  I was so pleased to leave for home late yesterday afternoon and have enough sunlight left to navigate around walkers.  My daily commutes involve always taking the left lane when there is a two lane option...and even that isn't a perfect solution since there is a contingent of fearless people who prefer to walk down the middle of Green Bay Road.  But still, we are always on high alert. (There are the ninjestrians who walk -with traffic - three across and have the nerve to flip you off as you pass.)

Don't they teach any of this in school anymore:  wear something light and reflective at night, walk against traffic etc?  You know, simple life survival skills...  I floated they idea of starting a personal 'ministry' of passing out white scarves (not hand knit, I'm not that ambitious) to people I almost run over.  But that was shot down by a family member who thought that might lead to me being found in a ditch, strangled with one of the scarves.

Please, ninjestrians of the world.  I want you to live.  I want you to prosper.  I don't want years of therapy to get over the trauma of hitting you.  (Nor substantial front end damage to my car.)

We Have a Winner!!!

I really thought Bridget, Eddie, and I won some sort of cosmic lottery when our tire was hit by a heavy, sharp, and sizable chunk of metal on our way home from Mariano's last week-end.  All things considered we were so fortunate since it could have been so much worse if it had hit the truck's gas tank or come in through the window.  At the time I was a bit hysterical - what with having to have the truck towed away and getting a ride back to my other car in the back of a Sheriff's Deputy's cruiser. (First time being driven around by the Sheriff's police...short ride, no time to snap a quick 'selfie' to commemorate the moment!)

Then Embot called to say that she heard a strange noise coming from one of her tires.

She was figuring on a rock stuck in the tread - didn't count on a bullet casing.  So there's our winner for the "February - Oh, My Aching Tires" sweepstakes.  Let's hope the rest of the month is without incident - and that March can be boooorrrriiiinnnngggg!

Looking more like home...

One little nook at a time, home is starting to look more like a home. I'm working with what I brought along...and constantly wondering what is at home and what is in storage.  Would like to get to the storage place to pick up a few things - including my 'box of saints.'  But I'm happy to have a nice area which is the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing at night.  Enhanced by the beautiful quilt and pillow sham that Bee gave me for Christmas, my happy area has my favorite lamp, statue of Our Lady, and my cherished "Two Smiles" rosary from New Zealand.  Looks like home to me.