In my mind, we “spent our summers” in Puget Sound. In reality, it was a few small trips and one big summer.
Before that summer, we lived on the edge of a one mile canyon filled with succulents. My brother and I used to slide down the ice plants on makeshift “sleds” while our Mother gardened. One day, as we climbed back into the yard, we heard bees humming over the flower beds as our Mother silently read a letter.
San Diego didn’t feel like home. Our Father was gone most of the time. It was the late 60’s and the Vietnam war was ongoing. I remember Mom crying as she scrubbed the tub one morning. When I asked her why, she replied “one of the damned ‘flower power’ slip proof stickers is peeling up,” then admitted she was missing our Father. Little things blew up into big things and sometimes we took major life events in stride.
We weren’t from anywhere. We were from moving vans and packing stickers, going coast to coast and overseas, always making new friends but really knowing no one. We were a military family that moved often, yet every place felt like home when we were together.
I haven’t felt much like blogging, but I’m feeling overdue. I’m thankful for blogger challenges such as “What’s on Your Plate?” and “What’s on Your Book Shelf?” I’m going to slip under the November deadline with a belated Thanksgiving post right now! I’m also grateful for my talented and attentive husband, whose been doing more than his share of the cooking this year. What’s on my book shelf? My husband’s collection of old cook books. What’s on my plate? Meals cooked by my husband using those old cook books.
There were so many things about the day my Mom would have loved; the connection to Japan where we had lived twice, an appreciation for another artist that worked with paper, and a day with her grand-daughter. We weren’t expecting the installation titled “Paper Couture” by artist Joan Son, but it was the highlight!
In honor of Mother’s Day, I decided to share one of my favorite recipes that Mom handed down to me. Even though she is no longer on this earth, I’m surrounded by her beautiful art work and a load of great recipes. Mom was a gourmet, but my favorites from her collection are always the most simple recipes. I’ve never made this cheese cake when it wasn’t just fabulous. It’s so simple!
We’ve known each other 10 years, but spent only 10 days planning our wedding. We got married at home on a Wednesday because that is when the judge was available. Another 10 days later, we celebrated the birthday of a friend in Coronado and met a fellow blogger in San Diego (covered nicely by Janis in Taking A Few Leaps.)
We live in Texas. A BIG state. It’s not hard to practice social distancing. We are lucky compared to friends and family in New York City, Seattle, and San Francisco. Still, we are under a stay-at-home order. Our challenge is, which home? We are newlyweds. Plans of consolidating homes and moving to a new house are on hold while we assess the impact of the pandemic on the market.
“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.” —Viktor Frankl
It’s ok to be sad or mad. Grief and anger are those steaming piles of shit in life that become the fertilizer for your garden. What becomes of your compost heap? What grows in your garden on a cloudy day?
Day light savings has ended and I have more time to write….or rearrange furniture because what I’m feeling is “ants-in-my-pants” instead of creativity. I was furniture shopping on-line yesterday. I imagined how a white leather sofa could brighten things up. How would my eclectic taste for Danish and Japanese furnishings, accented by large-scale cat castles, do with a high-tech, low profile leather sofa injected into it? Then I glanced up at one of my favorite paintings and started thinking of my Mom. She was a master at mixing things up; artwork, interior design, colors…I’ve been meaning to write more artist features. Why not start by covering my own Mom? This feature is about her.Continue reading →
Along with the love of art and photography comes my obsession with framing. Vintage framing. Growing up, I always had a large collection of frames in which placed photos of friends and family. I preferred antique or vintage frames, but any frame would do. In part, this was due to my military brat upbringing and the longing to hold on to memories of friends after multiple moves or family I rarely saw (and in some cases never knew.) But I also think I got this from my Mother, Artist Jacqueline Stubbs. She was the same way. Every time I moved, one of her contributions to my unpacking would be the creation of a family wall. Here is one of her with me as an infant, on my current family wall. In this case the frame and the photo are vintage!! Continue reading →
Sometimes I have to write something for myself – about my Mom. I’ve been thinking a lot about her lately. Not that I don’t think about her throughout each day, because I do. I’m talking about the thoughts and questions that bring me to tears. The kind of boiling tears that make you walk around the house carrying tissues and not daring to put on mascara or go out because you’ll look like hell and start crying all over again when anyone asks how your day is going. Continue reading →