Found!

Here you go, Lynne. I found it where I hoped it was.

This is a quilt Mother made in the early 1980s. Many of us signed squares for her. Some drew pictures. She embroidered those pictures and signatures to make them permanent–in some cases more permanent than the people who were part of our lives in those years. I’ll probably photograph individual squares of this and post them over time. But not all of them because it’s good to let sleeping dogs lie (thought not on this quilt!).

Missing You

Today is my friend Riley’s birthday. I miss him so much. I want to read a new poem from him, hear a new song, and tell him all the ideas I have in my head for things I want to write, the main one using our adolescence together in a ghost story.

Tom and I started going through those bins on our carport that so desperately need purging. I have an action plan for some of them, so I’m on my way. But mostly I wanted to find all my Riley correspondence. It stretches back more years than I will admit to. I’m lucky that he liked to draw and write and gave me so much of his work.

None of his stuff, of course, is part of the purge. Somebody else can trash it after I’m gone. It still means too much to me.

circa our junior high school years

I love you, John Riley. Thank you for an amazing history.

Random


Tom has a knack for finding random things on the ground and making them into little gifts. Usually they’re something from nature. But a tiny toy is always welcome.

Today is my mother’s birthday. She’d have been 91. That astonishes me. I have stories of her from every age, including her childhood during the Depression. Her great joy was being able to go to a Shirley Temple movie with her brother for a nickel. Toys were things she and her six brothers and five sisters made out of whatever they could find. A stick became a sword for a fencing match. A scrap of fabric and some straw became a doll. They hung vines from trees to swing on and play Tarzan.

I’ll bet something like this little guy, dropped in a parking lot and left behind, would have been a treasure to them.

Related: Happy birthday, Timmy! A treasure to all who know you.

Button Sunday

Keeping with the theme of the button, here are some of our Peanuts ornaments.

We received this from George, our realtor, when we closed on our new home in late 2014.

Hmmm. That angel to the upper right happens to be a casualty of Jack. But I digress.

Tom’s parents collected Peanuts ornaments through the years and gave them to Tom and his siblings. That’s how Tom has Linus and Snoopy.

One-Armed Lucy came home with me after I discovered her injured and marked down after Christmas last year. I couldn’t just leave her to suffer–though that wouldn’t have been in silence. Nobody can suffer louder than Lucy Van Pelt.

Photo Friday, No. 530

Current Photo Friday theme: 2016 in Review


I’m finishing 2016 with a big time-traveling, musical blowout. Tom has given me a turntable, and I’ve christened it with my favorite rock and roll song ever, Bruce Springsteen’s “Thunder Road.” I don’t care if my old records are warped and scratchy–like the dude at the music store who sold us the turntable said, “If you want to hear perfection, you’re probably going to download it or buy a CD. If you want to experience all those records you loved…”

So that’s what I’m doing, and honoring Bruce because 2016 is the year the words in his memoir reminded me of everything I love about creativity and honesty and why I need those in my life. I am full of joy because of all the songwriters, poets, and authors and their words and ideas–and all the musicians who gave some of them a soundtrack. Happy old years, happy new year!

Bruuuuuce!

If you know me, you know I loved him before the world knew he was Bruuuuuuce! Though we had a slight blip in the late ’80s, I got over it. Now that I’ve read his memoir Born to Run, holy crap, there’s a reason he’s The Boss. I think this may be one of the best rock memoirs I’ve read. Basically, his life is the fictional story I once wanted to write about a musician. Mine remains unpublished, but that’s okay. Bruce is a one of a kind powerhouse, and I can continue to love these pages and all the characters he’s given our world. ‘Cause you know, he’s got this guitar and he learned how to make it talk…