Little Scraps of Magic

#59

So.............

Somehow, # 59 has arrived.

I knew it was coming, and all in all, I'm glad it's here.

 

And, you know, 30 didn't bother me.

Neither did 40 or 50.

But, 60???????????????????????? Geez, that's gotta be my mother or someone else.

And, I almost didn't take these.

Cause, it's a little after 6 am, and I'm more than a little tired here.

My hair definitely needs a dye job, and I don't have one bit of makeup on my face.

You can see my all my lines and wrinktles.

But, then I figured, I've earned them all...I am wearing a map of my life right there on my face. I've earned those wrinkles, baby.

And, that gray streak simply lets you know I've been sitting in a hospital room with my dad rather than in a beauty parlor.

So, here I am at 59.

And, just because I could, I played with black and white..nothing major...no fancy layers or anything. Just me at 59.

Ice, Ice, Baby!

I woke up this morning to magic, otherwise known as freezing drizzle. The powers that be called for a 2 hour delay last night, words that make a teacher's heart sing! (I think they might have the same effect on the students...just maybe.)

While Phil brewed coffee, scraped windshields, and the like, I wandered about, entranced. Stooping down, I eyed tiny pellets of ice. From a distance, even a short one, they create one large sheet of ice. But if you get up close  and personal, you can see tiny cubes of ice doing their very best to imitate diamonds.

Gorgeous, no? Generally, ice creates pure crankiness in me. But, I had a few extra moments this morning to slow down, observe, and take delight in nature's gifts to me.

In other news, my dad continues to hold his own. The staff is amazingly patient with this frightened old man and have learned how to work around his quirks. Tests continue to be run. Dad's more talkative, almost all of it nonsensical, and so we laugh. Dad wouldn't be one bit offended; he's the one who gave us the gift of humor.

Nature gifted me this morning with icy delight. I'm ever so grateful.

Black & White, Baby...

...is awfully hard to do! I've been cheerfully delving into photography blogs, squirelling away knowledge, determined to get better. Having digested these helpful tips over at Focus 52, I knew what I needed to find. Not just any shot was gonna do.

But the events of this past week have left me tired, both emotionally and physically. My brain knew what it needed to do, but my brain was - for lack of a better way to say it - quite "brain dead." I knew, though, that I was not going to wimp out at the 3 week mark, so, I wandered about this evening, trying to find something, anything that might work.

The undersides of my mom's African violet's leaves caught my eye. Enough contrast? Not sure.

Okay...not awesome, but okay.

Would the shopping carts work?

Again, not great, but I do love the repitition. And, I have to admit, the shoppers at Whole Foods are mighty considerate folk! All of them cheerfully walked around me, being very careful to stay out of picture range. My husband, meanwhile, was making great time away from me, heading towards our car. I'm sure he must have been sorely tempted to mutter to passersby about the crazy lady shooting pics of shopping carts.

So, I'll show you the husband, both in color...

...and in black and white. Don't you love the wine corks in the window?

Maybe the bottle caps and "peace" fork?

Pretty cool! I know that there's not quite the contrast there should be. That's okay. I learned A LOT just playing around tonight.

P.S. I also learned that when you use "close up" (otherwise known as close to macro), every bit of dust in your house shows up...in VIVID detail. Trust me...very vivid detail.

Potato Chips, Cream Cheese, and a Roller Coaster Ride

Let me tell you....I don't much like roller coaster rides. Pretty much hate 'em. They give me headaches.

And, this week has been one massive headache.

It began, as it almost always seems to do, with an email - a fairly innoucous email as emails go.

"Dad fell; he's okay."

Not an uncommon email; in fact since not recovering from his last fall, fairly common. Dad never accomplished standing on his own two feet since that fall, but he "forgets" that and attempts to get out of his bed/wheel chair.

So, the email failed to cause any great consternation.

A bit later...another email. "Dad's complaining that his knee hurts; they're getting things checked out."

Still no great consternation here; we've been there, done that, don't much want the tshirt, but so it goes.

And, a bit later...the email that caused the great potato chip and cream cheese feast.

Dad's broken his hip and fractured his leg; surgery will be in the next 24 hours.

Dad suffers from dementia; surgery "enhances" the dementia, and Dad is not known for being cooperative when he's scared.

Imagine waking up in unending pain, not knowing where you are, and generally living during the time period of WW 2. The instinctive fright/flight response kicks in, and flight is not an option. So, you punch, swear, kick, and carry on, detemined to save yourself. Reality is not an option on this menu. I began slathering chips with cream cheese. In fact, I sent my husband to go buy them, as I've learned not to keep this combination in my house.

The next morning,I sat in school, waiting for results. The next email arrived, stating that he did beautifully, and I sighed in relief.

But, a few hours later, an email stated that my sister and the doctor discussed DNR. Dad had begun to exhibit a whole host of complications, all of them pointing to the fact that I needed to get to PA (3 1/2 hours away) fairly quickly. My boss made it possible, lesson plans got written, emails answered, and I was on my way.

My sister, husband, and I kept dad company in the waiting room. Somehow, he knew we belonged to him. Denise patiently feed him drops of ice water; I held his hand and stroked him. We both kept reassuring him as best we could. Over the next few hours, we calmed him enough that the nurses could draw his blood, something not possible earlier that morning.

Dad cried when we left.

I'm back in VA at the moment; the icy weather and wintery mix don't allow for much travel at the moment. And, I think about dad and wish I could be there to hold his hand.

Book of Days, Week 1

Catching up here! I could not resist Effy WIld's Book of Days, and I've been engrossed once again in the world of altered books and journals! But....no time to post, it seems!

In a never ending effort to use up my stuff, some paste paper created last year at Art and Soul and an old math text from an "antique/junk shop" came together in a way, I suspect that neither ever envisioned! A bit of waxy paper to reinforce the spine, and a bit of stamping and...ta da! One cool book!

A bit more of hand painted paper (acrylics this time), some Tim Holtz Ranger Ink, a photo I shot at Yaddo gardens, a bit of stamping and tape equals the inside front cover.

I'm definitely experiencing a "re-learning" curve...as in old book pages can be brittle and need some gluing together, some gesso, and some patience.  Unexpected things happen on a regular basis, and I'm also re-learning the art of "going with the flow" and "embracing imperfection!" One goal? To incorporate as much of my own phtography as possible.

Effy had used an altered tag as a "flap" but nothing I tried seemed to work. Improvise right? I cheerfully used some very cool tape (use up my stuff...remember?) on an envelope. You can flip the envelope over and inside of it you'll find a card listing some things "I'm Looking Forward To." I love this shot of the snowman; he's actually enjoying a bubble bath in the original photo.

Here's the rest of Week 1. Another photo - I suspect you'll be seeing a lot of the "grands"...more stuff from my stash, and lots and lots of gesso and masking tape to reinforce the gutter.

I've spent many an hour engrossed in this book; it's a wonderful way to destress if you let go of perfection and remember that old books offer many problem solving moments!

I'll share Week Two  tomorrow.

I Am....

I am delighted when the grands show up dressed alike and there's been no intent to do so!

I delight in their sheer silliness and I am someone who has seen far too much "Elmo." I've been known to hum Elmo's theme song at random moments in time.

I am someone who delights in whimsy and silliness.

I am the someone usually behind the camera, but if you look closely, you can see my reflection in the firescreen.

I am someone who seems to be surrounded by little one's toys almost everywhere she goes.

Focus 52, Week 2

Reflections

Lots and lots and lots (How's that estimation for a math teacher?) of birthday party pics were taken, but this is one of my favorites. I love the reflection of Alex and his daddy.

Convicted!

Scene of the crime: Springfield, VA

Date: January 9, 2012

Time: 5:30 - 6:00 A.M.

Accomplice: Unknown, but he/she opened the gate.

Crime: Running Amuck...no leash!

In other words, my dog now has a criminal record.  Sigh...

And his "father" broke his own cardinal rule: he did bail.

Thank heaven, it all ended well. We live right next to a highway, and the criminal is epileptic. I am beyond grateful!

Focus 52: New!

Alex...at one year old!

Pretty "new" as we humans go, don't you think?

He's loving pulling daddy's glasses off, and he's sure that's he's "oh so dashing" in them.

Have to say that I agree!

Posting for Week 1 of Focus 52...surely I can manage one photo a week, right?

Here's hoping!

Not One Word But Three

Do you see him, my little friend? I didn't, at least not when I photographed this gorgeous color drenched flower.

No, I didn't see what was right in front of my face at the time, so focused was I on getting the shot.

I spotted him as I editied ...and edited...and edited...and edited some more.

And, I thought about him. He simply happened to be doing his thing, gathering some food, I think.

But, what struck me was this.

He couldn't really see where he happened to be headed....the end was not clearly in sight.

He trusted his instincts, some inner navigation, his own personal gps to get him where he needed to be.

I own one of those, too, but I rarely pay it any mind. I second guess myself. I find reasons to procrastinate.

I get lost in the "what ifs."

During Christmas break, I came across a poem, "Shake the Dust," and several lines of it grabbed my heart.

"So, shake the dust and take me with you...

grab the world by its clothespins and shake it out again and again and jump on top and take it for a spin and when you hop off shake it again for this is yours.

Mark my words worth it, make this not just another poem that I write, not just another poem like just another night that sits heavy above us all.

Walk into it, breathe it in, let it crash throught the halls of your arms at the millions of years of millions of poets coursing like blood pumping and pushing making you live, shaking the dust.

So when the world knocks at your front door, clutch the knob and open on up, running forward into its widespread greeting arms with your hands before you, fingertips trembling though they may be .

...................................Anis Mojgani

 

"Shake the dust."  I kept hearing this phrase as I tried to settle on one word.

I dutifully waded through blogs. worksheets. and lists, all in an effort to settle on my one word for this year.

I tested a few possibilities...emerge, live, leap, and more. None sat on my tongue as well as "shake the dust."

It's okay to be scared, to be nervous..."fingertips trembling though they may be."

But, know what? This is my year to "shake the dust."

Winterscape

Silver and white, dotted with a touch of green...

 

 

Crystal snowflakes dance on napkins...

 

 

An angel whispers prayers as a child plays with a penguin...

 

 

Flames flicker softly, and old man winter awaits his guests...

 

 

I'm keeping winter's magic in my heart.

 

A new year's blessing to you and yours.