Summer Luncheon

Occasionally I get to have my nose in on other's doings and today was such a day. My sister, a successful musician and piano teacher had a special "end of year" luncheon for her piano students. And a nicer bunch of kids I have yet to meet. If they are any example, I can attest to the fact that today's kid are not going down the tubes. Bright, polite, talented, and well-behaved, they were a credit to their generation. I began to speculate why? Is it because piano lessons are not cheap? Or is it that they are from mostly upper middle class neighborhoods. Today's newpapers tell me neither could be a solid reason.
I thought of my own classrooms, some 25 years ago. I taught in a poverty-ridden, ethnically diverse, neighborhood. The classroom was a split second-third grade classroom; many families were transient, and I was pregnant with my first baby. Not ideal? It really was. I cannot recall any behavior problems, (I did however have one little girl with a permanent egg on her face who could never find a paper in her perpetually messy desk.) I think the key was they new from day one what to expect. I didn't have to be a talk show host, I needed to teach. It was a wonderful time. Parents were home, lunches were packed, homework was done by the students. Maybe 1981 was the end of a predictable time in our society. But today, for a couple of hours I revisited it.

Native American Image

This is a favorite image I never got to use. Sadly, the project for which it was created was depricated. I happened to run across the website of a colleague of mine who has so richly illustrated the Native American community and whose pieces are in galleries throughout the United States. This is "my two cents worth". It's a piece that shows the reverence this group of people have for family and the respect with which they treat their seniors. I hope I have done this theme justice.

New Things Old Things

Ever come to a point where the past and present merge? Or at the very least, meet. Today my youngest had an interview for a job at a facility attached to my old high school. The nuns retire here and she saw an ad in the paper advertising for a part time trainable position. I was thrilled. As she nervously filled out her application, I sat looking around this amazing facility. Amidst the contemporary eye-ball lighting, muted wall colors, I discovered that the furnishings were from the original building, built at the turn of the century. I had attended college in this building and had loved it's vintage look. AS various sisters moved through, coming and going from their outings, walks and activities, I detected my hands getting moist, a row of perspiration bubbles formed on my upper lip. I was once again 16 and waiting outside the principal's office. What tricks the mind plays on us. This is not about me, I had to remind myself; this is not my past or my future, but my daughter's present. I like that.

Father's Day

Made Mac salad for folks to take to Father's Day Celebration across town. Everybody had a great time. I'd had a few off days due to heat so "babysat" our sweet Lilly. She felt so down with everyone gone, (I don't count that much; I'm basically "mom" to her and while she loves me to pieces, I'm always just there) I worried that she was getting sick. The little "faker" moped around all day, chin to the ground. My boy and I got her out just before a big storm. Wind was blowing fiercely and we lost a number of limbs.
When the folks returned around 10:00, she got to run in the yard without a leash. She was her old self, with her favorite FOLGER'S can,running and growling to herself (I think that's to create more excitement.
Pleasant uneventful day for all of us. My favorite kind.

Cleveland and tents.

Yet another trip. This time for mdh. Traipsed to this perrenially foggy city. Made good time. Discovered navigational skills better than expected. Found a new route saving some mileage. That's good news considering gas prices. We fortunately had some saved up at Giant Eagle and got gas for .16/gal. That must be some sort of record. And home in time to see how everyone was. My youngest had babysat our Lilly and they had spent some quiet time in the tent. Ah, the tent, lovely home away from home; blithely set up in our yard and quietly killing the grass.
Sadly it comes down today, as I speak in fact. We will nag again, my youngest daughter and I for there is nothing quite like hard ground, molds dampness, mosquitos; all worth leaving an air conditioned house, to enjoy. ANd the first week in July will find us all once more under the stars, wondering which Roman candle will land in our yard and end our nights out forever.

Hidden Treasures

It was an unexpected surprise after coming through tiny little Lima, a town I immediately coined one of the dirtier little towns I've encountered. "Let's go on to Delphos," I suggested, the tiny digital camera literally burning in my hands. A preservationist at heart, I love the overlooked elements of Americana, and the billboard view of downtown Delphos promised to supply my fix.
Rising like a Phoenix above the sun-glinted trees was the most magnificent stone church. St. John the Evangelist Catholic Church.
"Wow," I gasped.Does Bishop _____ know about this one? There's one he forgot to tear down, close, re"muddle", or neglect to find a priest for. We rounded the corner and my family generously waited why I got as many pictures as I could. I circled the building, wishing I could get inside. I'd not seen a vintage building in this kind of repair and hoped that this wonderful quiet community knows what a treasure they have.