Last Day of the Month - Adieu, August.

SLOWLY inching by, this last day of August is almost gone here on the left coast.
So many wonderfully steamy days these three months of summer. Waiting for the spring equinox, planting seeds in the garden mud, now harvesting and steaming green beans and throwing juicy red cherry tomatoes in salads.
The basil has done well and we must have a trillion tomatillos. Almost as many long, shiny, green-skinned Anaheim peppers to make huevos rancheros.
Just wanted to post a short something and say tomorrow I start training someone to take my old job as I prepare to take on a new one next week.
Goodbye to old friends and hello to new challenges.
Like a garden, continually in some state of growth or replenishing - femminismo

No Gelatin Today, Folks.

I SAID I would show how to make gelatin today, but other things - that couldn't be put off - came up and needed doing F.I.R.S.T.
At 9 p.m. I decided to make a couple of pans of gelatin and then discovered I was a little short of gelatin. I am not about to run to the store now, on a Sunday night, or mix up something resembling runny aspic, so we will start slowly with the ingredients.
You'll need Knox gelatin, in the handy industrial size box; a heat-proof Pyrex measuring pitcher; and a pan to boil half the water. I will add four packets of the Knox for each cup of water.
(NOTE: Have cookie sheets with narrow sides or other appropriate shallow plastic containers on a level surface somewhere all ready to receive the gelatin mix. Make sure they are someplace they can stay and won't be in the way. It's much easier to fill them with the gelatin "in place" than fill them and then try and carry them to another location.)
Half the water goes into the pan to boil, half stays in the heat-proof pitcher. While the water is heating up add all the gelatin powder to the water and stir thoroughly. It will be thick. STIR!
When the water has come to a boil pour it into the gelatin mix and keep stirring this. It will be frothy.
When you have done a good job incorporating all of this, carry it to the pans and pour it in, making sure the pans are level. (However, your pans - if they are like mine - may be a bit warped with the oven's heat over time. Don't worry. Things should be fine anyway.) If there are lots of bubbles or foam still on the top of the gelatin, drag the edge of a sheet of paper over the top to carry them to the side. Use another sheet of paper to see if you can remove most of this stuff.
Let the gelatin sit overnight. To keep it for at least a week, cover it and refrigerate.
NEVER DISPOSE OF THE GELATIN AT ANY TIME DOWN YOUR KITCHEN DRAIN. YOU WILL BE HIRING A PLUMBER.
Hopefully, I will get to make some more gelatin tomorrow.
Today we saw the U.S. Air Force Thunderbirds jet team fly over town at a leisurely 400-500 mph. Noisy but thrilling! - femminismo

Kick In The Pants.

CANDACE knows how to get me inspired.
She gives me little kicks in the pants to jump-start my blog engine. Thanks, pal, for your comment.
I have been busy lately changing careers again. Actually, I am going back to something that I have done in the past, so I guess I'm not exactly changing careers. However, the job change has sucked up quite a bit of free time so I hope you will excuse me for not being more regular about posting. I know you wait for each one with bated breath.
Tomorrow I will show how to do a gelatin print step by step. Here are a couple pictures of what I did today while I still had a piece of intact gelatin to work with. (As you can see, it is beginning to split and separate.) I painted the gelatin with acrylics, wet the paper with a spray bottle of water and then put the paper wet side down. Press and pull up, as you see in the picture.
Here is the paper drying. Lots of colors. I think it's time to paint a picture with some recognizable objects and leave off on the abstract colored squirts and daubs - although they do have their own charm.
Tonight I'm watching "Lost in Austen" and can hardly wait. I am sure (well, pretty sure) it will be fun because it throws a modern day young woman into Elizabeth Bennett's England - as Elizabeth. Will she deal with Mr. Darcy in the same way? It will be fun to see - femminismo

More Gelatin Prints ... and more.

THE gelatin prints came rolling off the assembly line this Sunday when JoAnn and I got together for printing fun.
We had four or five trays of gelatin in various shapes and sizes.
I made one in a cookie pan with that was too soft and a couple others that worked just fine. One was leftover gelatin in a pizza pan and I didn't think I would use it much, but I did like its shape and "feel" after a while. And I still used the one Dawn had made for Creative Circle last Saturday. It began to develop a crack similar to the San Andreas Fault eventually, but Dawn, we really got your money's worth out of it before I was through.
JoAnn tried making a "ghost print" with damp watercolor paper and the result was astonishingly beautiful, as you can see above. Ready for framing!
Here in my circular pizza pan gelatin I put color and laid down flowers, put on the paper and pressed, peeled it away; picked up the flowers and then did the ghost print on the same piece. I then daubed gold paint with bubble wrap only around in a circle and laid it down again to pick that up and set off the pink.
And here are clematis leaves and vines - negative image. Color! It's all fun! Fun therapy!
We rolled our brayers through several colors of paint and tried different types of paper. We could see how bits and parts might be masked off to achieve other results - and preserve other effects you don't want to cover up. I didn't get a picture of the print JoAnn made by cutting away portions of the gelatin to make a multi-color picture of pears.
Now that I'm feeling that wonderful, good tired of a weekend of visiting with family and friends and doing plenty of art, I don't know that I'm really ready for Monday and I should go to bed early ... if I was smart, that is.
Last photo on right is of the pizza pan with a circle of clear gelatin, paint and a paper circle to act as a mask. The paper didn't pick up the paint there and it created the impression of a moon floating within a much larger circle of color - femminismo

Gelatin, anyone?

GOT to post something or I will feel worthless as an addicted blogger!
It's been busy around our house for lots of different reasons, but I have managed to do a couple more gelatin prints.
Putting on paint and then laying down a few stems of daisies I came up with this. The daisies were removed from the paint and then I got another print, which added some color in the "resist" areas.
The only problem with this art technique is I get going - trying this, that and the other thing - and before I know it I've got something I like, but I'll be darned if I can remember how I did it.
And of course, with this technique, too, you're thinking backward: OK, first I put down the paint, then the flowers, then the paper - and rubbed. Then I pulled up the paper and removed the flowers and then I put the paper back down again. I think. No, maybe not. Maybe I painted some more. No, that wouldn't have worked. Gosh, I don't know what I did! But I like it!!
Here is another image "pulled" from the painted gelatin onto the paper. The flower petals are almost of photographic quality. I really, really like them and think I'll maybe cut them out and lay them on the more colorful paper. Maybe.
Friends and I are doing this again on Sunday, so get ready to see more artwork for which I will have no technical explanations - femminismo

A Wedding and Art. Things Have Been Hopping!

THE wedding is July 11, 2010, so it's not as though that's what I've been doing for the past few days. But my granddaughter is getting ready for that big day, next year, and on Saturday she held a gathering of mothers and grandmothers to preview "The Dress."
The girl knows what she wants and doesn't want. The wedding dress is lovely, with an over-skirt of tulle embroidered with a cascading floral pattern and squiggly "wedding cake" embroidery on the bodice. The veil tops it off perfectly, but of course it's the girl inside the dress that's the prettiest and brightest thing in the world. Kind, generous, loving, her head on straight, future plans galore - she's got it all in hand, down to not forcing her fellow, cash-strapped, student friends to spend a fortune on clothes just to be in the wedding.
She is lucky to have worked at the Joel Palmer House, which is where she will have her wedding and reception. Check out the menu. I am looking forward to eating there. Mushrooms - of all sorts - in almost everything but the panna cotta (I am hoping).
After having lunch with Marissa, my granddaughter (and her future mother-in-law, her mother and other grandmother), I arrived back home and then went with a young friend, Ashley, to do gelatin prints at Art on a Lark. (It's an art store where you rent space and tools to work.)
This was the first time many of us had done this. Led by Dawn S., we proceeded to paint up a storm on the gelatin, putting down natural materials and other stuff that turned up. Then we pressed paper on top, rubbed it and took both a negative and positive impression on our paper.
There's no other way to learn these processes except jumping right in and spreading on the paint.
We had plenty of paper and lots of enthusiasm, so very soon every available space for drying paper was taken up. The gelatin is very sturdy - surprisingly so. I have a tray of gelatin I brought home that I'm going to try before bed tonight. Forget the dinner dishes!
Here is one of Ashley's prints. I especially loved the colors, and the stamp she used added a very modernistic appeal. This would make great gift wrap, don't you think?
Just a couple more that I did - they are side by side - and then I'm signing off so I'll have some time to go paint a bit. I, as always, loved the bit of copper paint. I love metallics. They are a great substitute when you're trying not to "glitterize" the entire world - femminismo

Taking Care of Love.

TAKING care of this thing called love - or this thing called marriage - is not for the faint of heart.
Like being a parent you can't let this "child" out of your sight. It mustn't lose its significance, its promise and its purpose.
This lady knows it. When the pages of the book close, ooh la la! What's that she's singing? Is it a song of love to him, or a song of woe to herself. (She looks a bit sad, doesn't she?)
Days turn into months, months turn into years and before we know it we can lose sight of the desired object we once wanted over anything else.
Perhaps her sweet voice will charm this Romeo again.
And this dry leaf of summer is getting a tiny bit of rain in Oregon today. Very tiny. Almost gone now. Thanks for sticking with me if you're reading this. More tomorrow, I promise - femminismo
p.s. I'm going to do a Labor Day shrine with Candace at EyeCandy! A shrine to love, perhaps? ; )

Happy Birthday to Judy-Girl.

OH, I really wanted to post a photo of my sister, Judy, tonight, when she was about 14 and had her hair in big, round, prickly hair rollers, but I waited too long. At 10 p.m. the wardens are coming down the hallways rattling their nightsticks on the bars of our cells and warning us it's time to turn off our lights and computers.
But before this day is over, I want to remember the sister who helped me figure out growing up. We were each other's encyclopedias, in a way. With our two heads together, we almost had everything figured out. (these thoughts regarding what we figured out have been deleted, since I'd be telling too much)
Suffice it to say we were together in good and bad, managing to make a game of being poor but feeling rich.
Love you, Judy. Be well forever! - Jeanne

Still Here ... Just Busy

SO sorry to be so very busy I don't have time for my blog.
I'll be back before you know it with some crazy plan or idea. Just give me a couple of hours sleep and an ambitious day tomorrow will unfold and be related here.
Tomorrow is newspaper day - putting it all together and trying to make sure all is right with grammar, spelling and facts.
Wish us luck doing all that and wish our reporters good luck finding some "new" news to fill up the pages.
For now, let me tell you I've been thinking of Mama today - femminismo

Life's A Tasty Dish ... Mostly.

MOSTLY I do think life is pretty good, but I am seriously blessed. I just wanted to let you know this and remind myself at the same time. Just like these bees lolling in the purple blossoms on the cardoon, I've got it easy. I work for it, don't get me wrong, but I've been lucky too!
For four weeks now I have been attending "Family to Family" classes through Oregon's NAMI chapter (National Alliance on Mental Illness). We have studied brain disorders (schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder, panic disorder), symptoms, crisis intervention, suicide prevention, family interactions and the way in which *all* family members are affected by mental illness and tonight we studied - in a very limited way - the functions of the brain and the ways in which scientists *hypothesize* mental illness happens.
There are so many causes, so much conjecture, it is easy to see how people are misdiagnosed for years. And:
“Mental disability is not a scandal — it is an illness. And like physical illness, it is treatable.”
- President’s New Freedom Commission on Mental Health (from the NAMI Web site)
We need more advocates for the mentally ill, because often they cannot speak for themselves.
Think of the people you know, either in your family or among your friends, whose lives have been touched by cancer. Maybe your own life.
Then think about those you know who have a mental illness. Don't know anyone? Maybe you know someone who's depressed. That's a brain disorder; an imbalance of chemicals.
I'll bet everyone knows at least one person, maybe two. And if you don't know about their brain disorder it might be because of the stigma that still exists.
"An estimated one in five American families is affected by mental illnesses such as major depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia and post-traumatic stress disorder.
"Without treatment, people living with mental illness may face unemployment, substance abuse, homelessness and suicide."
Join me in making an effort to advocate for the mentally ill - femminismo

DisCo Is Here and Filled With Memories.

BEFORE my mother died she told my sister and me that she had "gotten rid" of all the love letters our father wrote her while he was in the Army during World War II.
We were heartbroken and as I remember it she couldn't understand why.
She didn't know, however (or at least I don't think so), that there were many rainy October Saturdays when my sister and I would sneak downstairs, go into her bedroom, and search the back of her lingerie drawer for those very letters. They were wonderful!
Well, I don't know how my own children will feel about the love letters between their father and me before we were married. We were officially together 26 years - a good chunk of time - but it's been over for (officially, again) 18 years now.
When I was looking for something to add to my DisCo Project - I knew I wanted to bind up the book sections to make another book - I was frantic. Nothing was right. I slowed down and took a careful look around the room and came up with this: old love letters. Pieces of my past. Sections of heartache. Promises unfulfilled. Longing, desire, plans for the future.
What better to add to weathered bits of paper than weathered bits of promise and hope?
Holes were punched and I bound them in such a way that the letters can't be taken out and read. Peeks may be obtained of some of the pages - a word here and there - but unless the book is taken apart they cannot be read in their entirety.
This, I think, is like the past. A word overheard now and again, a glimpse of a person's face as you passed their doorway, but the entire picture can't be put together with these few bits. And even if the letters are read someday, I don't think anyone can fully appreciate this once happy couple's dreams and plans. Still harder to find in these clippings are the reasons the marriage failed.
It certainly didn't fail because of these letters. Like most plans, it failed because of miscommunication, pride, ego and the inability to put yourself in another's shoes.
I think I will probably add more to this book. Maybe love letters from another gentleman after the 26-year marriage ended. Maybe not. Maybe those are for burning - femminismo
(edited Aug. 2 for grammar)

DisCo Project . . . Coming!

IF I'm not mistaken, tomorrow is the unveiling of the DisCo Projects we promised Seth Apter we would construct from the elements we exposed to the winter winds, snows and frosts - or baking heat. It all depended on whether we were in the Northern Hemisphere or the Southern.
I have been working on it and August 1 has sneaked up until it's living right next door to me!
Oh, the shock to look at the calendar and realize we're almost run out of July. Strawberries, gone until next year. Dogwood tree starting to show color. (Sad, but true.)
However we still have watermelon ahead and corn on the cob and lots of green beans fresh from the garden. And peaches! So I guess there's plenty of things to look forward to.
Check back here for the DisCo Project tomorrow and I'll try not to disappoint. (But don't check too early in the day.) - femminismo

Photo is labeled "Scientific Discovery" in the Life magazine archives. Taken in 1964 by photographer Arthur Rickerby.

DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA (or conjecture) what "scientific discovery" had just been made in this photo above? Did someone disgusting just walk into the room? The professor's wife, maybe? Hah! I like that answer. The girls don't look too happy and the professor looks a teensy bit ill at ease. Wait! Maybe not his wife. Maybe ... his ... MOTHER!
"Mother! What are you doing out of your room?" (He does look a little like Tony Perkins.)

Something Witty ... or Pithy ... or ?

I WISH I could think of something witty or pithy or even interesting to say. I know there are folks who check in from time to time and they must be tired of seeing my same blog post - even though it's fascinating!
What about this? A prayer put into the universe has been answered! I am to be a great aunt again. Can't you just tell by this ultrasound that *this* baby is exceptional? - femminismo
p.s. That's a strong left arm being swung around over there!

A Truly Global Education - For Anyone.

YOU don't have to be rich, just determined, to get a great education.
And you probably won't find the directions dumped in your lap. It's going to take some research and asking questions on your own.
While it might seem (to some) a little reckless to send your children off to other countries to get an education, when your teenager's brain is eager to learn and experience new places and cultures *then* is the time to use that to your advantage. And education in other countries can be just as good - and often much cheaper - than education in the United States.
Remember my blog about Maya Frost and her book "The New Global Student"? Well, here is a link to the article I wrote for The Hillsboro Argus newspaper. Follow it to read more about the Frosts and their unconventional and successful search for a better, global education for their girls.
Then check Maya's Web site.
I also have a couple of pictures of the work I'm doing on the DisCo Project suggested by Seth Apter at The Altered Page. Our winter-weathered Disintegration Project is becoming something else - to be unveiled completely August 1. But for now just two little glimpses.
Left, tied bundles of pages getting glue and glitter on the edges. At right, the pages laid out flat.
(I've visited a little over half of his participants in the Buried Treasure cooperative project and discovered lots of brilliant new geniuses. I hope to visit a lot of them again soon.)
Now off to bed - femminismo
solet's

Doing Virtual Mouse Scribbling ...

WELL, I am fooling around with Illustrator, trying to get it to do what I want without the bother of consulting a manual.
I swear I have a strong bit of Y chromosome clinging on for dear life that didn't quite totally incorporate into two Xs!
Anyway, I've got a "drawing" to show you. I exported it as a jpeg. (It's not a self-portrait.)
Pink Martini is on the CD player. What a voice China Forbes has! Joyful, crystal clear, lush when need be. She's singing about Napoli.
I need to go work on my DisCo project but I'll be back later to add a bit more about this 88 degree (F) day.

Isn't It Surprising My 'Re-Posts' Are Both About People and Not Art? Or Maybe Not Surprising.

Seth at The Altered Page has let us have another chance to "repost" a blog page or two. I "talk" so much I'll only post one.

Thursday, December 6, 2007 Not Alone in the Dark.

IT was a dark and stormy night. Really, it was!
It was pitch dark, pouring rain and I was leaving Clackamas on the right highway headed in the wrong direction: north instead of south. There was no turning back. I knew what eventually lay in front of me. It wasn’t going to be pretty, either. It would involve three lanes o f traffic, with more vehicles constantly merging onto the road on my right.
I stuck to the middle lane. All of us were eager to get home, especially those large pickups and SUVs — passing on both my right and left — throwing up water spray that covered my windshield. The wipers were going rapid fire, “swish, click, swish, click.”
Northward I flew, saying aloud “I can do this!” Again, aloud, I spoke to my fell ow drivers: “We all just want to get home safe.”
The radio was off. I couldn’t concentrate on anything but staying in my l ane and remembering to breathe.
Parkrose exit. I could have gotten off there. Powell - another exit with a name I knew. I pi ctur ed the long stretch of Powell Boulevard and the bridge to the other side of Portland.
The freeway seemed to collapse in length and become shorter and shorter as the minutes went by. The airport exit came up before I knew it. I would have to get off this road soon or end up in Washington.
The airport exit! I knew the airport. I could find my way home from the airport. I had gone out of my way by a long shot, but from there I knew I could find my way home.
Unfortunately I turned off at Cascade Station, thinking it was the first parking area for ov ernight or weekly parking at the airport. I didn’t know it was a humonguous new shopping center with stores for almost anything you might or might not need.
I considered going in and asking for directions, but something akin to a Y chromosome kicked in. If I asked for help I would be admitting defeat: “I couldn’t do this alone.”
I have a difficult time asking for help, but that’s too long a story.
I did call my husband on my cell phone, however, to let him know I might be late getting home. I had called him when I left Clackamas.
“Where are you now?” he asked.
“I’m out by the airport. Yes, I can see it from here. I’m at Cascade Station, near that new Ikea store. Oops! Someone’s in back of me. Gotta’ go.”
I dropped the phone into my lap and drove off. Ahead of me was a Subaru in a right turn only lane. I saw a blue sign: I-84. Things were looking up. When the light changed we both turned right and then stopped at another light. I decided to trust the Subaru and followed its taillights when the light turned green. Soon we were on I-84 ... going in the wrong direction.
Sandy Boulevard. Another familiar street. I abandoned my friend in the Subaru and left the freeway. Now I was on Sandy, headed east or west. Your guess would have been as good as mine. No daylight; no sun to show me my way home; no stars either. Only more rain.
My cell phone rang. It was my husband asking “Where are you now?”
“I’m headed down Sandy,” I said. “Say, there’s an adult toy shop. Need anything?”
I don’t know who I was trying to reassure with this attempt at humor, him or me.
I stopped at a light then. There was a car beside me on my left and I glanced over at the intersection of the one-way cross street looking for information and saw a sign that read “City Center.” Yes!
“I’m at an intersection,” I said, “and there’s a sign to city center.”
“Take that,” he said. “You can find your way back that way.”
However, to go that way I would need to cross three lanes of traffic — one beside me on my left and two other oncoming lanes. I remembered my driver’s education manual and knew this wasn’t an option. Then I spotted a motel on the right just through the intersection.
“I’ll bet I can turn into this motel, go through their parking lot and turn onto the one-way street headed toward downtown. Goodbye,” I said.
Soon I was hurtling toward “downtown” which turned out to be I-84 again, but in the correct direction. I got into the left hand lane to make sure I would get the Salem and, eventually, Beaverton exits.
Finally I was really on my way home. I was on my way to the safest place in the world. Why had I ever left it, I wondered.
That night, holding my husband's hand and trying to fall asleep, I was amazed to have traveled all that distance and come to rest, at last, here in this snug harbor. A million thoughts went through my head. They were all related to my trip and the “what if’s” that so often haunt us late at night.
What if I’d had an accident? What if I hadn’t been lucky?
But I had been. I was lucky to find my way home safely, lucky to be snug in a safe little house with someone I love. Lucky, lucky, lucky.
I believe in skill. I believe in intelligence. But I’ll trust lucky any day.

You And I, Travel To The Beat Of A Different Drum ...

DIFFERENT drums ... for some reason that Linda Ronstadt song came into my mind as I began this post. Written by Michael Nesmith (now that name's familiar to some of us) and a popular hit when Linda sang with the Stoned Ponies. Oh, it takes me back, for sure. My hair was long, long, long and had never been touched by a curling iron. My bottom was a little higher, too, along with the bosoms - which got a clean bill of health by the way! (Made a mammogram appointment lately?)
I'm just thinking tonight about all the things that make us different ... and interesting. Remember that "Twilight Zone" episode, "Number 12 Looks Just Like You" (1964) where everyone either looked like Suzy Parker, Richard Long or Pamela Austin? How boring to all be the same. (Not to mention, confusing!)
Now me, with my farsighted eye and my near-sighted eye, I've been to the ophthalmologist too much lately. The other day I finally gave up on the blended trifocals lenses. They were not working for me. Too much prism effect, which made me dizzy. But in honor of Don, (Grrl+Dog calls him "Gorgeous One") I had to take a self-portrait (it's self-portrait Wednesday too!) of what might pass for steampunk glasses. (Well, they might if they were rusty and a little bit funkier.)
And I forgot to tell you that a *miracle* happened on Sunday and I made a pie without crying. The bottom crust rolled out perfectly, the berries tumbled in and the top crust - I got the teensiest bit uneasy but quashed it quickly - it rolled out perfectly too. I cut out little leaves to put on top and sprinkled it with sugar. The Mister demands "a little pie" for himself, because he *tells me* his mother "always did it." Well, I guess I would try that too if I could get away with it and he obviously did because you can see him in the picture tucking into his apple pielet.
Yesterday, Tuesday, I got mail from Fannie Narte, and inside the envelope was a great little carry-all bag. It will be just perfect for my lunch and other odds and ends I can't do without ... after I decorate it. Check out Fannie's lovely "lady prints." Beautiful drawings/paintings on her blog and in her Etsy shop.
Well, I'm going on and on, aren't I? Just one more picture to show you of our Russian sage, orange day lilies and Rose of Sharon in the background. This picture, along with the sunflower, were taken at sunset as I was outside watering. The light is so lovely that time of day and they - the days - are getting shorter. (Sob!) Have you noticed? Love to you all - femminismo
p.s. Tomorrow is Seth's (The Altered Page) second chance at reposting a favorite blog. Check back to see what I dig up for Buried Treasure.
p.p.s. Oops! Some huge photos again. Back to the drawing board!

Other Stuff I Saw This Past Weekend.

GOT a lot done today, at work and running errands. Today was a sweet day because everything (almost) fell into place. I remembered appointments, chores, places to be and had all I needed to accomplish these things with me! Sometimes they're at home, which isn't convenient at all.
This past Saturday a sister and brother and I visited with another brother and his wife. We all had lunch and then a tour of his new little house, built especially to protect the pump for their irrigation well during Oregon's long, hard winters. (haha - well, last winter's anyway)

Of course, not just any little house would fit into their backyard. I can see things taking off from here. Maybe one day it will have its own little porch and picket fence. Look at those darling stained glass windows he made for the house. There is a bougainvillea planted on the right.

There are many trees surrounding their yard, and up in one of the fruit trees there was a bird. Can you see it among the leaves? Can you tell me what it is?

This yard is also special because it's home to the Easter Bunny. Please don't divulge to anyone that it lives in Oregon. We will be inundated with more tourists. (Well, considering the economy that might not be a bad idea.) The 10th annual Easter Egg Hunt is coming up this next year in my brother and sister-in-law's backyard. The kids love it and the grownups love the cake.
One last pic of a July dahlia and then I'm off to water the plants. It's 92 degrees Fahrenheit outside right now at 5:46 p.m. Little humidity, thank our heavenly stars - femminismo

Busy Week and Weekend

SINCE there's not enough time now, at 10:52 p.m. (which is when I finally got around to actually posting this) I'll just give you last Thursday's news.
I interviewed Maya Frost (and her husband, Tom Frost), at left, for an interview to be published in our local newspaper. You can find Maya here.
She is an evangelist and *huge* promoter of a Global Education and being BOLD with your life and author of the book, "The New Global Student." Her four daughters have traveled and gone to school in many different countries and have all turned out wonderfully and obtained their own educations for a fraction of what it normally costs the average American student. And they've gotten a lot of on-the-job training in the art of becoming their own advocate for having a better, richer life.
If you have children or grandchildren who are going to be facing tomorrow's even higher costs for education, grueling study for the SATs and a lot of jumping through unnecessary hoops, check out Maya's Web site. You will find a lot of food for thought - femminismo

BURIED TREASURE.

ALONG with several others and most especially our leader, Seth at The Altered Page, I am reposting one of my own favorite blog entries from March 2, 2008:
Every Calendar Day is Special to Someone.

I AM writing this on Oct. 2, 2008 — which would have been my mother’s 86th birthday. She passed away in June 2006.
This morning in Athens, Ga., on Oct. 2, my niece - and my mother's granddaughter - Amy, gave birth to her third child, a boy, Guillermo. The baby has blue eyes — for now, anyway — and so did his great-grandmother.
Today I can feel my mother so close to me on this day - her birthday. I can imagine how excited she would be that the new great-grandchild was born on "her" birthday.
I recall the times I remembered her birthday with a card, or lunch or a sleepover at her house. I remember forgetting her birthday once! (It's OK. She forgot mine once, too.)
I close my eyes and I can feel her arms around me and the special "Mom kisses" she would give.
I can remember the last time she walked into my house and I remember the evening she left it.
We all wish, of course, that my mother could have witnessed another great-grandchild in her "portfolio." There aren't many who love babies as much as she did.
"My goodness, what your dad and I started," she used to say. They had seven children. My mother told me my grandmother (her mother-in-law - whom she loved dearly) asked her one time, "Margaret, how are you going to take care of all these children?"
And she stubbornly answered, "I'll feed them and love them." That's exactly what she did, day in and day out without fail.
It’s odd how certain dates have a way of pulling us back in time. As the post title says, every calendar day is special to someone. It might be a birthday or an anniversary of a glad time or a sad time - a beginning or an ending.
Now we've been blessed with these wonderful grandchildren and we are so lucky to have them all healthy, smart, loving people - and we have our parents to thank for that last part, I think.
Amy's paternal grandfather, William, passed away very recently on Sept. 13. That was a really sad day for everyone. William also had blue eyes.
I will always think of this new baby, "Gil," born on Oct. 2, with the bluest of eyes, as a link in the generations and a reminder that miracles keep on happening everywhere we look.
I'll also remember that the saddest day on the calendar to me might be the happiest day to someone else. This is a happy day. Mom was born today and Gil was born today. Welcome to the world, Gil, from Great-Aunt Jeanne! I know Javi and Isa and Daddy are waiting eagerly to get you and Mommy home.
NOW: Here is Gil today with his eyes just as blue and the joy on his face reflecting the love that comes his way. This boy will grow up to be somebody, you betcha! With all the spark, good humor and kindness that marked his great-grandmother, Margaret, and his grandfather, Billy -- all three with blue eyes filled with mischief and stars - femminismo