My Bad.....

So Fenway and I walked the bike path again yesterday.....and suddenly summer is here. We enjoyed about a two-day spring, but now Port boasts warmer days. We noticed additional wildflowers along our way.  A happy daisy.

Bunches of buttercups and some common fleabane. Followed by beautiful smooth hydrangea bushes in bloom.

 

I spotted my first beautiful big tiger swallowtail flitting down the path in front of me before disappearing into the brush.

And then, remembering something that popped up on the internet last week I realized that I wasn't enjoying flocks of phlox....these pink/white/light purple beauties coating the side of the path and the hill were Dame's Rocket. Darn....an invasive weed. Now if I was working with a manicured flower garden I would pull them.....but this is "open space" and they look pretty. So I'll leave them alone and wait for the phlox that will bloom later in the summer.

He Can't Run For President.....

A few days ago a story from 2011 popped up somewhere on my feed. Melania Trump was being inteviewed by Joy Behar (now that's even hard to imagine!) and Joy was asking her about her husband's obsession with President Obama's birth certificate.

During the interview Melania went on to echo "her husband's birther arguments nearly verbatim, denying the authenticity of the former president's certificate of live birth....The mother-of-one tends to avoid publicly denounce or support her husband's political beliefs and she told GQ in 2016, "No one will ever know"....What we do know is that she was vocally supportive of the birtherism campaign in 2011, when she asked host Joy Behar:  "Do you want to see President Obama's birth certificate or no?"And she responded, "In one way, it would be very easy if President Obama just show it because it's not only Donald who wants to see it - it's American people who vote for him and who didn't vote for him."

I just dumped the article.....but it popped into my mind today after I cleaned a file in my desk drawer.  I can't remember what I was looking for, but I found a xerox copy of the State of Illinois Certificate of Live Birth for our son, Todd. Our first born arrived on January 23, 1969. The form was witnessed and signed by Stanley T. Kusper, Jr. Cook County Clerk and the copy was dated March 11, 1974. I don't remember why I needed this copy, but there it was in my file.

Now I seem to remember some of the ridiculous birtherism "kerfuffle".... with then candidate 45 pompously declaring that a certificate of live birth was not the same as a birth certificate and therefore was not acceptable.

I guess I better call Todd and tell him he can never run for President of the United States.....thank my lucky stars.

Out There Somewhere....

Our son, Todd, lives in Washington State north of Seattle. He has always loved the outdoors! And years ago he found the perfect job. As Natural Resources Director for the Samish Indian Nation he is charged with preserving, protecting and restoring natural resources important to Samish Tribal Members for now and future generations. He leads a team as they monitor the environment, protect and restore their lands in marine, freshwater and terrestrial environments. He oversees projects that include a wide range of activities from stormwater monitoring, plant and animal population studies and climate change analysis to full scale beach and river restoration projects and marine debris removal. In other words, Todd gets to spend a lot of his work time outside surrounded by the beautiful nature of the Pacific Northwest.

So what does he do on vacation? He goes kayaking in his sea kayak. That's where he is this week - somewhere north of Vancouver, Canada circling islands and paddling through channels. He's with a group of like-minded adventurers and I'm sure he's having a great time. There is no cell service so we can't talk to him to see how it's going, but one of the adventure trip leaders has some kind of app that let's her post the route. So we go on line once in awhile and watch the red dots extend from one island, around another and then on to another. 

I can't help but wonder about the weather and the waves and the campsites....and can't wait to hear some details. From tramping through the woods near our home in Nashotah when he was in grade school to exploring Canadian islands.....Todd's adventure continues.

He's out there somewhere......

That Damn Book.....

It's no secret that I love to read.....and sometimes a book, a single sentence will really hit a nerve and call up a memory. Sometimes that's a good memory....other times it's a moment best forgotten.

I recently finished a book for my book club....Before We Were Yours by Lisa Wingate. It was a touching novel based on fact about young children taken from their poor parents in the 1930's and moved into a horrendous "orphanage" and then "given" (sold) to wealthier families. The parents did not give their children up willingly and many spent the rest of their lives trying to find them. The children, understandably, were frightened and lost. Siblings were separated and conditions at the orphanage were difficult if not abusive. The real-life scandal ended with the head of the orphanage was finally exposed, but died of cancer before she could be prosecuted.

So the story was sad and yet also the story of the young main characters who never forgot who they were and where they really belonged. As the author stated"...the heart never forgets where we belong."

It was a sentence in chapter three that hit me hard. "One of the best things a father can do for his daughter is let her know that she met his expectations." I read that and my memory instantly tunneled back to a day in the early 1970's....the last time I saw my father before he died of cancer.  I flew in from New Jersey to see him and we sat on the deck of his Chicago brown stone looking out at his back yard and just talking. I can't say we had a satisfactory conversation because we had a distant relationship....he was a very dominant personality and I was always shy and less-than-confident in his presence. He was never physically abusive in any way....but emotionally distant and harsh. My parents were divorced.....dad leaving when I was 16. He was remarried and facing this last health battle with his second wife by his side. He was only 49.

In the years since my parents separated and then divorced my father made many hurtful statements when I visited him.....comments only for my years and apparently never for my younger sister. I kept the comments to myself because there was no point in changing her memories. But I will never forget the very last thing he said to me before I left to go back to my mom's house in the suburbs. "You are wasting you life because you're just a wife and a mother." Period. End of sentence....his final judgement and "advice".

So I carried that comment with me for the years since....and always wondered what his judgement would have been if he'd seen the other things I'd done over the years. I'll never know....and it shouldn't matter. I'm 71 years old so why does that memory still hurt? I blame the book for this one.

Quoting again: "One of the best things a father can do for his daughter is let her know that she met his expectations." Mine never did....and I'll never know....

Flocks of Phlox.....

Spring arrived late this year....it's been grey, cold, rainy and everything bloomed later than usual in Port Washington. For the past week or so Fenway and I have been taking our walks along the water, watching the gulls soar and scream and trying to spot the two or three white pelicans still hanging around. Yesterday Dave came home after a walk up the bike path to say he'd never seen so many flowers in bloom.

So this morning Fen and I walked north up the path....and Dave was right. We always enjoy pink phlox in the spring....but this year there is an explosion of the little blooms everywhere. They line the path....

They march up the bluff and line the stream's edge.

  

They cover the flat field where we often spot deer.

We spotted two deer....one with his antlers just starting to show, still covered with felt, standing right at the edge of the path. He just watched Fenway as we went by....never moved.

I was impressed with the lovely little blooms......

....Fenway, not so much.

Dive Bomb.....

Walking across our parking lot, down the sidewalk and into the building has been an adventure for the past week or so. At first I wasn't sure what was happening, but every time Fenway and I took this back door route to our building I had a beautiful red wing black bird screaming at me. And Dave said one afternoon while he was out working on the RV the bird kept hovering and screaming at him too. Then we happened to be looking out the window and saw movement from the last bush along the side walk....ah hah. A female blackbird going in and out of the bush.....mystery solved. We were too close to Mr. Blackbird's family nest.

So if I want to go that way I wear a hat or my hood ....... and make Fenway walk fast. I'm pretty sure Fen hears the commotion, but he doesn't seem to look up.

And once we get past the dad flies down to check on the nest....counting heads I guess.

All comfortable and accounted for. I'm not sure how long it will be until these three fly the nest, but maybe we'll walk the long way around the building and go in the front door. I got whacked on the head in Bayview by a protective red wing.....ouch. I prefer to avoid a repeat.

Art Doesn't Have To Match Your Furniture.....

Our daughter is an artist. We've known that since she was about three, beginning to experiment with crayons and markers. We've known it since grade school when her teachers would comment that she was very talented. In third grade she brought home a wonderful angel that still compliments our Christmas decor.

In about fifth grade she created a paper sculptured boxer that looked so realistic our real boxer, Daisy, stood in the hallway, hackles raised and growled at it. She took private art lessons when we lived in South Jersey and she was in middle school. At 14 Megan gave us a water color trillium.

High school offered an art major program that meant she spent two class periods every day for four years creating in all kinds of mediums. She spent one summer at Trenton State College attending a special program offered to arts majors from all over New Jersey. Six weeks of feeding that creative spirit surrounded with other students talented in visual arts, music and dance. The four years in high school meant more and more art coming home. An assignment at 16 meant I couldn't move the pots and pans for several days so we ordered out.

And senior year a self-portrait from one of our favorite little girl photographs...a memory in black and white.

                                        

College opened new doors as Megan explored her major in graphic design. For many years nature and shelter played a semi-constant theme in her work. Several pieces hang on our walls at the condo. 

            

Her work continues to grow, change, expand, develop and we watch, amazed, as her interior world moves onto paper.....her ideas and thoughts play across each mixed media creation. Layers of experience and memory and moments in her life. Her art now is so very different than it was even two years ago....and that's what makes watching her journey so very fascinating. It's in her genes...she is an artist.  She is our daughter who taught us that "Art doesn't have to match the sofa!" Art has to make you feel something....see something....experience something. And each time I look at our daughter's work that's what it does....I see it, I remember something, I notice something, I appreciate something. 

All because our daughter is an artist.

It Might Just Be Magic.....

Three different times in my life I've visited an acupuncturist. The first time was while working at the Delaware Museum of Natural History and having problems with my hip. I'd tried anti-inflamatories and physical therapy....but the aches and pains lingered. So a co-worker mentioned acupuncture. My first reaction was one of complete skepticism....but then I figured "What have I got to lose?" Five visits....discomfort gone.

The second time was while we lived in Bayview and I was having problems with a shoulder. Same sort of progress until someone mentioned a good acupuncturist just a few blocks away. She had a lovely studio near the lake and, once again, within about six visits I felt so much better.

And then there was the two-year cough. Really, really annoying for both Dave and me. Loud and constant and frustrating. Visits to my primary care physician, allergy tests, chest x-rays, inhalers, a pulmonologist....no one had any real answers or any real "cures". They kept telling me what it wasn't and I was certainly glad to hear serious possibilities could be discounted. But still....cough, cough, cough.

So I decided to, once again, try acupuncture. My daughter recommended the one she visited and so off I went. Scott was very personable, well educated and thoughtful.....and within six to eight visits my cough was basically gone. Not completely....but compared to the previous two years I was "cured". I still go about twice a month. Just to stay in tune...for my sinuses, for my cough and my now aching thumbs. (Too much quilting) When I went yesterday I mentioned that my hips had really been bothering me for several weeks. They complained whenever I got up from a chair, and they ached after taking a walk. I said I thought it was probably aging and the beginnings of arthritis or someday hip replacement.....he said he'd try a couple extra needles to see if that would help.

Now my acupuncturist uses moxa rolls at the ends of the needles that he inserts into my legs. A little "ball" of some kind of herb material. He then lights them "on fire" and for about three-four minutes a sensation of warmth moves down each needle and it feels like I'm lying on a beach in the sunshine on a summer day. (I've asked if I could take some of the needles and moxa rolls home but he smiles and says no.) Well yesterday, he put the magic balls on the ends of the new needles and within a few minutes a felt a "ball" of warmth heat up inside at each hip joint. It was amazing....like having two internal heating pads. I loved it.

I go back in two weeks and he'll repeat the process. I already look forward to it....lying on the heated treatment table, listening to the meditative music and waiting for that moxa magic warmth to do it's stuff. I don't understand how or why it works and frankly don't care.

Yep....it's magic....and Scott's expertise. There's a reason acupuncture has been around for three to five thousand years!

A Perfect Day....

Yesterday was a beautiful day....sunny, cool, a slight breeze. Lake Michigan was sparkling and it was a pleasure to take several long walks with Fenway. After spending a few hours at the sewing machine I took him for a long walk up our bike path and back. I noticed small signs of the spring that we've been waiting for. Trees, vines and bushes in bloom.

Dandelions standing loud and proud, pink phlox waving in the breeze and small violets hiding.

Even the moss climbing up a dead tree trunk seemed to boast a beautiful fresh spring green hue.

Fenway and I spotted three deer grazing a different spots along the path, but still no fawns in sight!

And there was proof that within days we should have the lovely scent of lilacs permeate the breeze to accompany us on a future walk.

The wildflowers and blooms with change as the weeks pass. We will notice new additions every week as warmer weather develops. This ever-changing pathway is just one of the reasons I so enjoy living in Port Washington......nature greets me every time I step out the door.

Port Pelicans.....

I first spotted them two days ago. It was late afternoon and I went out to the deck to water my plant....and thought "Wow...those are big birds! Maybe snow geese?" So I grabbed the binoculars and my jaw dropped - white pelicans. About 20 white pelicans floating just off shore.

I grabbed my bird identification book and according to the information inside, the Great Lakes are not part of their normal territory or migration path....or at least it is not common to see them take this route. But there they were, and they stayed for days feasting on the fish that are all around the marina.

I was curious so I grabbed my bird identification book and then I googled them. Did you know that a group of pelicans are called a brief, a pod, a pouch, a scoop or a squadron? I like the idea of a scoop of pelicans. That's what they do....scoop up their dinners.

They are one of the largest aquatic bird and can have a nine foot wingspan...it is amazing to watch them take off and fly. They are "shy" and live in colonies and that's why we have about 50 floating around Port Washington at the moment. I have to wonder how long they will stay.

And I learned that both males and females have that bump on their beaks during mating season, and then it falls off. I wonder if the females are attracted to the males with the biggest bumps???

Anyway.....walking along Rotary and Coal Dock Parks it is fascinating to watch this beautiful visitor stop in our neighborhood. Port's pelicans......