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Archive for the ‘Inspiration’ Category

Against the wall an Artist to Watch card featuring a tree frog as photographed by Jim Brandenburg.  In the foreground, a crystal unicorn given to me many years ago by my nephew who remembered my love of the mythical beast.  I don’t generally think of frogs and unicorns together but they seem quite a pair this morning.

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While I do  not look forward to summer’s end, one of the things I do like about this time of year is how the light shifts coming in through Steve’s kitchen window.  It creates shadows that make me pause in my day.  Like these “fruity herbal silhouettes.”

What you’re seeing:  At the window there sits a tall glass jar overflowing with thyme.  Beneath the jar sits a small bowl of fruit and chile peppers picked up at the farmer’s market, and next to the bowl sits a small seedless watermelon.  Beautiful colors in light and shadow.

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Around Christmas, my mother used to invite the gentleman across the street over for dinner.  We called him Mr. Joe Boy.  He was mentally challenged but living independently with the support of family.  My mom would assemble a plate of food so that he could eat in the living room, and the rest of us could hang out in the kitchen.  She then left Joe Boy to my dad.  My dad was more a people-person than my mom.  He would make small talk with Joe Boy.  The two of them would watch westerns or whatever was on television.  Sometimes Joe Boy would nod off in his chair and we kids would sigh wondering when he was going home.  My mother would frown at us but we knew she was thinking the same thing.  Eventually my dad would nudge him awake and see him to the door.  Over many Christmas holidays that same act would be repeated.  Not because this man was starving for food or asking for anything.  We did it because my mom felt it was the right thing to do, to be neighborly to this man who spent most of his time alone.  It is a trait that I admire in Steve who practices a similar ethos around food and dining.  Food is on my mind today because I finally stopped turning away from the pictures coming out of Somalia and East Africa. Most disturbing are the pictures of the skeletal children.

 

AP Photo/Schalk van Zuydam

This little man in particular gave me pause because he is in such contrast to the picture I shared earlier of my young nephew growing up in this country.  What to do?   If I find some money to give, where should I send it?  Will it have any impact?  I decided I needed to do my homework.  Here’s a bit of what I’ve found so far.

* In response to a donor query, Charity Navigator, an independent charity evaluator, asked different aid agencies to share what they are doing in the region.  Read more here.

*Interaction, an alliance of U.S.-based international NGOs, has produced a straight forward list of 45 aid agencies with contact information viewable here.

*CNN just posted an article, Famine in East Africa: How You Can Help, providing basic information including simple ways to give via texting and other social networking tools.

 

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… and sunflowers …

… and new angles of our friend, the bee. 😉

Photos by Lorraine

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I have written before of my views through various Somerville windows especially the ones in Steve’s kitchen.   From one window in particular I like to stare down into a small garden.  This year the landlord has been preoccupied so the garden is overrun in a beautiful way.  Rose and purple morning glories entwine every surface, including the tall stalks of the sunflowers.

Greek oregano overshadows Thai basil.  Rosemary holds its own against a crumbling retaining wall.  Green tomatoes grow ever larger watched lustfully by gray squirrels that live in the adjacent oak tree and the “rat” whose home is beneath the garden.  I put rat in quotes because there is some disagreement whether the furry fellow is a rat or some other long-nosed, long-whiskered, long-tailed creature. Regardless, I still call him Roscoe Rat when I spy him nibbling on roots.  No names do I give to the sparrows, starlings and sparrows.  There are just too many and while lovely they seem indistinguishable as they skip around for insects and seeds.  Nor do I try to name the most recent visitor, a bright yellow finch.  Each morning for a week it has dropped out of the sky to alight upon the sunflowers.  Each visit is only five seconds or so.  How much longer he will visit before migrating onward I do not know.  Even if he should appear no more the memories of his presence remain indelible.  Two shades of gold together, feathered and petaled, touched by early morning sunlight.

 

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As my cousin stated, it’s “probably not smart to follow bees,” but what beauty she captured by doing so in her back yard. 😉

Pictures by Lorraine

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This is my nephew, “Little J.”  How could I not smile when peering into that face?  If you’ve followed my blog at all then you know that family is very important to me.  The older I grow the more I recognize that family forms my core.  Maybe one day I’ll bundle up the family stories I’ve shared on this blog and in other venues into a book for Little J and the other young members of my family.  We’ll see … 😉

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… a young girl — let’s call her Amy — who recently got into a fight with a group of young girls who were her friends.  A physical fight with nails scratching and hair pulling.  Only they know the reasons why friendship became aggression.  A day or so later perhaps indeed the world righted itself and they all became friends again.  That’s what the leader of the group of girls said as she tried to enter Amy’s home.  But Amy’s grandmother sat on the stoop and would not let them pass.

She said, “I do not know why you did what you did to my grandchild.  I do not care what you say now, that you want to play and not fight.  You shall not enter this house without removing me first.”

The girls looked at her, how frail she was. A good wind would blow her over.

The grandmother returned the look and shook her head. “I love my grandchild, do you hear?  I love that child and,” she added without hesitation,  “I love you too.”

The girls, all of them, walked away without further word.

“A couple of them did look back at me,” my aunt told me this weekend.  “I was a little worried they might try to jump me,” she added with a chuckle.  “But they didn’t.”

I told my aunt that I think she may have planted some good seeds in the  hearts and minds of those girls, seeds she could water by simply inviting them to dinner.

“Just imagine that!” I exclaimed.  “Those girls and your granddaughter around your kitchen table next Sunday.”

She just laughed.

 

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