Marietta Square

In the midst of all the anxiety of my trip to Georgia, my sister and I were able to steal away and have some good times together.  We're both geeks, so one of the most fun things we did was ordering in Chinese food and watching lurid stories about disasters on the History International Channel. 

Another thing we did was take a trip to Marietta Square.  This is a quaint, old-fashioned area with wonderful bakeries, restaurants, and one-of-a-kind shops,.  Check out their website here:  http://www.mariettasquare.com/

I took some pics of the Square and the surrounding area which I HOPE will give you a flavor of what our afternoon was like.  We stopped in for ice cream and I bought some wonderful things I'll show you later in a shope called "Vintageology"  Isn't that a great name?   

My Papa

I’ve been thinking about writing this post for several days, now. It is amazing how stress completely saps any kind of creativity and initiative. 

I went to Atlanta to help my mother and sister care for and make some decisions about my Papa. As I have alluded to here, he is ill. Specifically, he has a cancer which is something like leukemia and a heart condition. Five years or so ago, he was essentially given a death sentence, until a wonderful physician included him in a clinical trial which gave him a good quality of life and the bonus of these last, extra, and precious years.  The picture above is of my fabulous sister and my Papa following his surgery.

In recent weeks, however, his blood count has been going down and down, necessitating frequent transfusions. Two weeks ago, he had a heart attack. His spirit remains strong, however, and he says that “God isn’t finished with him yet.”

When I l arrived, he had surgery to alleviate some symptoms. Without going into great detail, the discharge planner at Cobb Hospital in the Atlanta area provided my family with less than two hours to find a rehab hospital for him. My mother and I toured two of these hospitals on Cobb’s list which were so horrifying that I had nightmares about it later. Instead of the sign for the rehab facility out front , there should have been a sign which said (as the Gates of Hell have in Dante’s Inferno) “Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here.”

Thank God we were able to find a wonderful facility for Papa which is immaculate, quiet, committed to patient care, and treats him with dignity. For Father’s Day, my sister and I put a wrought iron “Shepherd’s Crook” outside his window with a bird feeder on one side and a hanging plant on the other.

I’m back home and musing about how our society treats the aged. I come from an educated family with other insurance besides Medicare. We have options and can research information on the Internet. We have the transportation to visit different locations and don’t need to worry about proximity to a busline. We understand that we can say no to a facility. We have professional contacts who can assist us in an emergency.

What on earth do people who rely on social security for their entire income do? What about those who cannot advocate for themselves and have no family? What about those with families who do not have access to the Internet and transportation. What happens to them? Are they the ones who are doomed to abandon all hope when they enter?

Isn’t it a shame that this country allocates money and resources to those who sue for a plastic surgery which left their belly button one fraction of an inch too far to the left? Isn’t it ridiculous that the media researches and publicizes the latest rehab admission of Lindsey Lohan and which politician has been rumored to be unfaithful? The media follows Balloon Boy, people who illegally climb the Empire State Building, whether Tori Spelling is too thin, and if Brad Pitt is secretly meeting behind Angelina’s back with Jennifer?

I wish to God that someone could figure out how it is that Medicare spends an obscene amount of money only to allow and pay for this kind of care for people who can’t fight back.

Thrift Love - Little Shelf

Almost verything on this mantle in my bedroom is thrifted.  I pickd up the little shelf at (you guessed it) Goodwill for $3.25.  The cup, sugar dish, and creamer are also Goodwill.  The two vintage botanical prints came from a little junk store, which sadly is no longer in business.  The lace is a curtain which my mother passed on to me.  I like looking at this every morning when I first wake up.

Thrift Love - Cardinals

I love ceramic birds and vintage pictures of birds.   I scored two wonderful cardinal pictures at Goodwill last week for cheap, cheap, cheap. 

I've been in the vintage zone.  My Papa continues to have very serious heart problems and also has cancer.  When I am troubled, I nest.  The more upset I am, the better my house looks.  Sometimes, I even fix things up at a friend's house. 

If my tile grout in my bathroom is sparkling, if the baseboards are pristine, and there are new treasures peaking out here and there, something difficult is happening in my life.  I seem full of nervous energy, so rather than being anxious and worrying, I put the energy into being productive and making something beautiful.  I can't fix the difficult situation, God will do that, but I CAN make my surroundings better.  This always picks up my spirits and takes my mind off the problem.

 I transferred one of the cardinal pics from a nasty metal drug store frame into a vintage one (also from Goodwill).  A frame can make all the difference, don't you think?  The other cardinal boy is propped up on my kitchen desk.  I'm waiting until another round frame finds me so I can add it to the other side of my vintage kitchen cabinet.  In the meantime, I love the frame color...very Daisy Cottage, isn't it?

Cottage Garden Out Front

The Front Porch

We have been spending a lot of time on the front porch in the evening, lighting the candles, and listening to classical music.  We had it painted in the Autumn during a trip to New York.  We've been enjoying it this spring more than ever before.  You may notice that the porch ceiling is a light robins-egg blue, which might seem an odd choice.  Back in the day, porch ceilings were painted this hue to mimic the sky.  It was thought that wasps, bees, and other nesting insects would consider that the blue was the sky and keep moving on.

The rockers are from Walmart and the other furnishings are all from Goodwill down the street.  I was amazed to find the wonderful Singer sewing machine table, plant stands, and the vintage oil painting there.  The picture frame was a yucky maple finish, so I spray painted it black to match the rockers.   I really broke the bank with it, $2.25 plus the black spray paint.  I may write an ode to spray paint some time.

An oil painting hanging outside is so Kim McCole from Daisy Cottage, isn't it?  Only Kim would have painted the frame bright red or bright yellow!  The painting would be right at home at her house, though.  I think that's why I bought it!  http://deardaisycottage.typepad.com/

I've been spending my quiet time with God here in the early morning, reading the Word, rocking, praying for my stepfather's health, and waiting to hear what God has to say to me.  There's something about a rocking chair that puts you in a better stance to listen somehow.  Trust me, I need to have some kind of aid in order to be "slow to speak and quick to hear."

Ahhhhhh, Fresh Eggs!

My neighbor Georgianne brought back some farm-fresh, free range, brown eggs for me from Gloucester, Virginia about an hour away.  I made simple scrambled eggs with salt and paper with them.  Oh the butter, golden goodness and an intense egginess that you don't get in store-bought eggs.  I just had to put them in a plan white bowl on an old kitchen scale.

Lulu Came Back!

Last week, we decided to go to the oceanfront at Va Beach and take a long walk on the boardwalk.  Bruce and I were heartsick about the dogs and wanted to take our minds off it all.   We have a favorite Greek restaurant there. All the way home in the car, I had in my mind's eye a vision of Louise on the front porch. I kept brushing it off, so as not to be disappointed. When we got home, she wasn't on the front porch, but was curled up on the back stoop. She was filthy, with grease spots, but was very happy to get back home.

The next day, she got out again and just ran from the back yard to the front yard. We put her back in the back yard and Bruce said to her, "LuLu, how are you getting out?" She took him to the spot immediately, so impossibly narrow that you couldn't believe that she could get out. He told her NO in no uncertain terms and she hasn't gone near it since.

We realized after LuLu came back that it was Thelma who was chewing things, knocking over the garbage, etc. There's been no chewing at all since LuLu has been back. We also noticed that she was sort of pushing Maxine around, would try to take her bones, etc. We don't know if Thelma is meant to come back. Huskies are wanderers. We're just keeping her in prayer. If she comes back, my neighbor directly behind us really wants her, so that may be a good fit. One of our huskies, Lupa, was at someone else's house for three weeks before she came back.

In the meantime, LuLu has turned out to be the best dog we've ever had, including mighty Alex the wonderbeast. She fits in perfectly and is the most loving dog ever. Her only fault is that she is fairly food intense. I had forgotten how long a reach a young dog can have standing up on her back legs. I made a killer eggplant parm last night. I doubled the recipe so that I could freeze half of it for next week. We heard a crash in the kitchen. When we came in, she had that guilty dog look and she looked like Keith Ledger's Joker from Batman, with red sauce all over her white face from ear to ear. Then she did that nervous dog smile and she had eggplant stuck in her teeth. We can't even get mad at her, we just burst out laughing.

My Life As George Jetson

I apologize for not posting sooner. There has been so much happening that I feel like George Jetson on the treadmill with Astro, sliding down the back and falling off.

I have been having terrible pain in my hands, so it has been difficult to post. Thank God that my doctor prescribed Mobic and I am feeling so much better.

Secondly, I graduated from college yesterday with a degree in Criminal Justice.

Thelma and Louise somehow got out of our backyard yesterday and are on the lam ojnce again. I pray that they stay safe and we are doing all we can to find them.

Some of you asked for an update on Kewon. He went to court on my birthday. His court appointed lawyer had said that nothing would happen on this court date other than a procedure to certify that there was enough evidence against him to move forward.

Several weeks before, we had gotten him a Polo by Ralph Lauren blue oxford-cloth shirt (brand new with the tags still on it from Goodwill)and he already had some nice pants. Kewon was so nervous that he forgot his tie. Bruce accompanied Kewon and his mom. Just before they entered court, Bruce took off his tie and put it on Kewon. Kewon doesn’t know how to put on a tie, so Bruce was putting the knot in it for him. An Afircan American woman passing by stopped and said, “I wish I had a lawyer like that.” Bruce replied, “I’m not his lawyer, this is my son.” We wanted him to make a good impression on the judge.

Suddenly, just before the trial time, his lawyer advised us that the district attorney was offering Kewon a deal. The very serious charges would be totally dropped and expunged from his record. This depended on Kewon pleading guilty to lesser charges. Without going into detail, he didn’t really do what the reduced charges involved.

He and Bruce called me. “Miss Annie, you said that I had to tell the truth. I want to get this over with, but I don’t want to lie about what I did.” I didn’t want him to either. I prayed about it and asked to talk to his lawyer. I asked her if he could enter an Alford Plea (no contest) which simply acknowledges that there is a lot of evidence against a person. Kewon would not need to lie.  The district attorney agreed to accept this and so Kewon’s case was adjudicated.

Kewon originally had serious felony charges against him. We feel that God intervened. At first I was disappointed that he had to plead to anything at all. In retrospect I believe that this has provided him with a valuable lesson about using better judgment.

Thanks to all of you for your concern for Kewon.

Spunky

Okay so Spunky is the adorable dog that lives across the back fence.  In fact, when Roger, Spunky's Dad, built a new privacy fence, he deliberately left part of the old, shorter chain link there so that Spunky could visit with Maxine and Little Bit across the fence, so to speak.

Now Spunky is, as they say, a young pup, and Maxie and Little Bit are senior dogs.  He was mildly interested and polite. 

But then Thelma and Louise came to live here and suddenly he was extremely interested, attractive young ladies that they are.  At first Roger was getting stressed about Spunky's jumping the fence into the backyard.  However, we finally agreed that this wasn't actually a big problem between good neighbors.

So life with puppies once again is really interesting.  As I type this, Louise is chewing up used Kleenex.  So far Thelma has chewed up a pair of shoes, my Fox and Friends ball cap, and a brand-new bra.  I love them both dearly, but you forget how puppies can be.

I raced home from a client, a church about 45 minutes away and ran in to let all the dogs out.  Cue the music, "WHO LET THE DOGS OUT?"  I left the back storm door cocked open so our elderly Maxine could come back in as soon as she wanted to.  I ran upstairs for something and stopped to go to the bathroom.  I sat there for a minute, just catching my breath.  It was about the first time that day I'd had a chance to sit down.

I heard some dog tags and someone bounding up the stairs.  Not unusual in this house.  I sat looking out the window at  the azaleas.  And then Spunky walked into my bathroom and sat down.  He looked at me, with his head cocked to one side, quizically. 

My immediate reaction was embarassment.  A strange dog and all.  Okay I can deal with four dogs, one elderly dog that needs to be carried up the stairs at night...all 90 pounds of her.  But I draw the line a strange dog jumping the fence and waltzing into my bathroom.  It's all about boundaries.

Birthday Pitcher

I have wonderful friends.  One of the  most wonderful is my friend, Nancy.  Nancy is my partner-in-crime, my fellow lover of all things "Twilight," as well as being the Queen of Thrift Shopping.

My birthday is coming up and she gave me this beautiful bouquet picked from her yard, in a thrifted vintage (or maybe antique) pitcher.  I adore pitchers.  The bouquet has mock orange in it and it is filling my bedroom with the fragrance.

The Quilt that Deana Made

I have a friend from the midwest who is a quilting artist.  She generally does avante garde art quilts.    You can find out more about her talent, designs, and where she has been published here:  http://www.chameleonquilts.com/index.htm

Deana and I lived near each other years ago when our husbands were on nuclear submarines in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii.  We've kept in touch over the years.  After we had not been in physical contact for quite a while, about 15 years ago, Deana decided to make me a quilt.  She asked me some basics about style and colors and shipped it to my office at the Red Cross in San Diego.

I really cried when I opened it up.  This is not Deana's usual style of quilt, it was a labor of love for me.  I am all Irish.  She has embroidered prayers in Gaelic around the sides of the quillt and included embroidered shamrocks in the white, non-patterened areas. 

One thing I recall her saying is this:  "Don't you dare fold it up and not use it.  It was meant to be used."  She went on to tell me how to wash it.  There it is out on the line yesterday.  I keep it on my couch in the living room.  It compliments all my colors.  It is one of the five material possessions I'd grab on the way out if my house was on fire.  The dogs would go out with me first, but they are people, not material possessions.

Everytime I see it, I am reminded of Deana's unique world view and her incredible talents in a number of areas.

I don't know exactly what I did to deserve such an amazing present, but I wanted to share it with all of you.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh, Spring

Thanks

Thanks for all your kind words, comments, and prayers in regard to Kewon.  They brought tears to my eyes.

Annie

Statistics

This is the face of a statistic that you read about in the paper or see on the news every day. This young man’s greatest risk of death is not cancer, not AIDS, not starvation…his greatest risk of death is by murder.

He has the deck stacked against him. He is poor, he is a high-school drop-out, he is currently unemployed in the traditional sense, he is black, and he is gay. Most adults in this kid’s life have let him down in many ways, by their choices of partners, choices in how they spend their time, priorities they have chosen, and substances they have abused. The school system has failed him. If you saw this statistic walking down the street, some of you might be nervous.

This is also my godson, Kewon. This is the kid that was visiting the neighborhood and saw me walking my dogs when he was 8. Two days later, he asked me to come out and play. So I did.

This is the kid who asked me what the rainbow looking stuff on a shell was called at Fort Monroe beach and I told him “iridescence.” He’s never forgotten that word. This is the kid who looked at art books with me and listened to what I told him.

Later, he invited me to the Portsmouth Children’s Museum where his artwork was hanging. No one else in his family wanted to go. The picture depicted his bedroom. When I asked him how he had chosen the subject he said, “Because you told me that the Van Gogg (Van Gogh) guy painted his bedroom because he was too poor to be able to afford a model. I though that would be a good idea for me.”

This is the kid whose mother, when I asked her what big present he would like for Christmas replied, “I don’t know Miss Annie, you know him better than I do.”

This is the kid whose mother also used rent money to help bail her adult daughter’s drug dealer boyfriend out of jail, who didn’t pay her back. They were evicted and he was homeless at 16, living from couch to couch and too ashamed to tell me. His only link to his family and to me was a cell phone. When he was caught by a school administrator texting his mother who was in the hospital with MS, they took his phone. He became nearly hysterical and was told that if he wanted it back, he’d have to drop out. So he did. Throw away, inner city child.

This is the kid who once walked a mile to the ferry landing, took the ferry to Norfolk, walked a half a mile to the Dollar Store, and used the very little he had to buy me seeds and some garden gloves for Mother’s Day. I cried for an hour after he went home.

This is the kid who got in with the wrong crowd, not doing drugs or stealing, but just looking for acceptance. He went to a so-called female friend’s house to help her mother clean their house. The mother had been ill. This mother and daughter sent him to the store twice to pick up things, giving him counterfeit money to pay for it. He had no idea and certainly got no advantage from it, because he gave them back all the change. Now he faces four felony counts. Afterwards he sat in my living room and cried saying, “Miss Annie, when is it going to get easier?” My heart broke.

And despite all of this, this is the kid who is the newest employee of Marriott Corporation, effective Friday, working in the laundry and in housekeeping. This is the kid we coached all weekend, developed business cards for, who went to Goodwill and found a brand-new Polo by Ralph Lauren oxford cloth shirt and a Joseph A. Bank tie. I can assure you that he was the only interviewee who wrote a thank you note and enclosed his business card which he uses for odd jobs and mowing lawns.

So this is the child of my heart, Kewon, not a statistic, but a human being who perseveres despite circumstances which would knock the rest of us to the ground. This is the kid whose secret dream is to go to Paris some day. The kid who loves salad, because he never gets fresh anything at his house. The kid who drops off his GED homework for me to check after he’s worked his little landscaping business all day. The kid wth the great smile and the heart for helping everyone. You don’t need to cross the street if you see him walking.

Kewon is in God’s hands.  His trial is on my birthday. I only want one present…not guilty. We serve a God who makes all things new, and a God of justice. But next time you think of statistics, think of Kewon. The next time you hear about missionaries going to foreign fields, remember the missionary field right near your house. Kids and dogs…they aren’t throw ways. Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight. And if you can throw a few prayers his way on April 26, this “mother’s” heart would be glad.

Thelma and Louise

Sometimes I am not so fond of people in general, especially people who believe that animals are disposable. 

Somehow these two beautiful dogs were dumped in my neighborhood over the weekend. 

Huskies follow me, I don't know why. Thelma pictured right here is the third husky-type dog which has adopted me in the last twelve years.

Louise, standing there next to Thelma,  is a pit bull Labrador mix.  She is a lover and is so frightened that we have to carry her up the stairs.  Both of them cringe when you reach out too quickly.  Clearly, they have been abused by someone. As I said, sometimes I don't like people very much.

Here's Francis Beast, our adored Siberian husky who passed away during Christmas 2009.   He was a retired senior citizen in this picture, stretched out in front of the fireplace.   He found us in 2002.

 

This is me in the front hall with Maxine and Lupa, our first Siberian who found us in 1999.  She really looked like a wolf.  She was older when she found us, but loved us until she went home to be with God.  With me is Maxine, a lab mix who is still our main canine girl.  She is much loved and well cared for in her old age.

This is Little Bit, a Jack Russell/dauchshund mix who we adopted about a year after Maxine Bean.  She is fiesty, just like the little guy who always starts the bar fight.  She is also extremely smart and knows the precise geographic center under the bed where you can't reach her.

So we already have two dogs and really weren't looking for another, never mind another two. 

However, my beloved Maxine is not getting any younger.  In fact she is over 12 and was run over by a car when she was a rescued dog, so her arthritis is pretty bad.  We will love and care for her until it is time for her to go back to the Creator.  The huskies have a history of coming, when another dog is ready to go home with God.  One dog doesn't replace another, but it does make things easier.

Easter Weekend

Bowman's Garden Center is a magical place.  I'm getting ready to plant my garden and though I'd share some Easter weekend pics with you.  Happy Day!

It is Finished

I Feel A Bad Moon Rising

So this is one of my favorite restaurants, Baker's Crust, in the Ghent neighborhood of Norfolk, VA.  Baker's is a kind of an upscale bistro, with really amazing rotisserie chicken, artisan bread baked on site, wonderful sandwiches, and really great soup, such as the kickin' corn and crab chowder.  But I digress.

We were in a somber mood, having come from Jack Roper's wake.  Jack was my friend Sarah's father, a real pioneer in shipbuilding who built the largest dry dock in the world, the Titan.  http://hamptonroads.com/2010/03/roper-turned-norfolk-shipyard-titan
But, again I digress,.

.

As we were being seated, I noticed that the hostess' eyes were dancing with supressed laughter.  Mystified, I followed her until I saw it

Apparently no one has told this guy that crack kills or that wearing a gunbelt pulls your pants down, as does a toolbelt.  This is why is is called "refrigerator repairman syndrome."  And OF COURSE he is sitting in a hard-backed chair that has a wicker type material across the back and under one's posterior, but leaves everything else just right there and a'hanging out in front of everyone.

Half the staff was laughing, and I had tears rolling down my face.  Our waiter, Timothy, who reminds me of a young man depicted in a wall mosaic found in the ruins of Pompei, came to the table, "Here's your bread and butt......uh butter," he said.  I lost it again.  There Mr. Butt Crack with the Smithfield Armory t-shirt sat...stolid, immoveable,and completely clueless.

So in an age which has become inreasingly ill-mannered and often unkind, perhaps I was both.  Or maybe people with heavy belts need to get a clue and modesty is best practiced by both men and women.  The air conditioning was on and, for the life of me, I cannot understand why he couldn't feel the air on an area of the body which shouldn't be hangin' out in the breeze.

So God rest Jack Roper, and God bless my friend Sarah and somebody give Mr. Smithfield Armory a clue.  Who needs to see this while they're eating?

So we apologize for the interruption to The View from 256's Holy Week musings and return you to your regularly-scheduled blog, which is already in progress.

Is There Anything Quite as Lovely as Spring?

God is an artist.  The sky is His canvas and nature His colors.

What Goes Around Comes Around

 

So the other day, my close friend Nancy, The Thirft Shop Queen, came over for tea.  We always show each other our latest thrifted treasures.

I pointed out my new, teeny tiny brass bird cage with an even tinier brass bird.  I love it.  You may have noticed from reading this blog that I love birds and bird cages.

She said, "Neil's brother brought that back from Portugal for me."

Nancy had dropped it off at Goodwill a few days earlier.  We've agreed to check out each other's charitable in-kind donations from now on.

Hippity Hoppity Easter's on it's Way!

In my former, unenlightened non-frugal days, I'd spend a lot of money at Michael's for seasonal decor.  I've learned since then.  It's Goodwill and the Dollar Store for me, baby.

I love metal flower containers; the flat kind with the handle.  I use one in my bathroom to park my curling irons in style.  My house is trimmed in dark green.  I don't find accessories in the right colors for my front door and porch.  So I keep green spray paint stocked when it is on sale.  When thrifting, I look for a pleasing shape vs. a pleasing color when buying containers of any sort.

Heart-shaped recepticle at Goodwill:$1.25
Flowers on hand: 0
Spray paint bought last year: 0
Dollar Store Bunny:$1.00
Eggs from last  year: 0
Hippity Hoppity Effect: Priceless

I love the reflection in the window panes of the old school my neighborhood saved.  It was built in 1920 on land the man who built my home donated to the city.  Instead of being demolished to make way for another 7-11, our beloved Shea Terrace Elementary School is now on the National Registry of Historic Places and can never be touched.  We'll have to go outside the neighborhood to buy overpriced phone cards, stale Slim Jims and unhealthy snacks! 

The building is now an apartment building for the elderly.  One resident is a former teacher from that very school who lives in her former second-grade classroom.

Mysterious

The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion which stands at the cradle of true art and true science. Whoever does not know it and can no longer wonder, no longer marvel, is as good as dead, and his eyes are dimmed.

Albert Einstein