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Archive for the ‘Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country’ Category

Je suis Le Balance! This means that my astrological sign is Libra, and before you get all “I don’t believe in that stuff” on me, consider this. Lots of people do believe, and like a good Libran, I’m open to most anything. My Kevin MD list serve sent me an article about two important women who happened to fall recently – Hillary Clinton and Barbara Walters.

The point of the essay was that the media missed the most important point of their stories. Instead of focusing on the newest medical treatments for head trauma, which were the direct result of a fall, news people reported on Hillary’s glasses and Barbara’s broken bone. Instead,they could have used their spotlight to focus on prevention. One out of three people over the age of 65 will fall; and an older American is treated for a fall in an Emergency Department every 15 seconds!

in fact, falls are the 5th leading cause of death, and at the least may lead to a loss of confidence and the loss of independence.

What bothered me about the Kevin MD article was that they mentioned exercise, along with good shoes, cataract surgery, home safety precautions, vitamin D supplements and changing medications that may result in dizziness – but they failed to mention the importance of working on Balance.

Do the tree pose in yoga. Stand on one foot, lean the other on your ankle and count to ten. Or count to three and work up to ten, slowly. Raise your arms above your head when you get really good. Maybe you need to hold onto a chair, but start somewhere and eventually you’ll be able to trip over your dog holding a laundry basket and land on two feet…oh yes, I did that. Bob just tripped on a curb recently, he rolled and got up and ordered his coffee, like a good stunt man.

Let’s get the stigma out of falling, everybody does it! The Love Bug will take many a tumble learning to walk; children fall all the time. It’s just that the consequences for seniors can be severe. Hillary was dehydrated, suffering from a virus when she hit the deck, Barbara fell going about her normal day. My brother Jim recently fell going down some steps and broke a rib. It’s important to raise our awareness as we age, we need to practice balancing religiously.

And we also need to check on AstologyZone website to see if the new moon will be in Uranus. And maybe check for black cats and put away those stilettos?

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We like to read on vacation. Twenty three years ago, when we first discovered this French island, there was no satellite TV, no “wee fee” and certainly no cell phones. Even then we felt it was a pleasure to disconnect from the rest of the world. Our only source of news was the free 1 page “Le News” and I remember reading this one day and not believing that our translation was correct. How could our Vice President have shot someone in the face?

Now that our villa has super-connectivity, we still stay unplugged, by choice. And the 1 page Le News now has 4 pages of advertising. This time the French government has delivered some surprising news. “Coup de Pouce” – very rough translation – the National Council on Medicine has stated that a medical professional is permitted to give a terminal sedation for patients at the end of life, with ‘persistant, lucid, and reiterated requests’.

I wonder if this made the news back home? In other words, the whole country is going the way of Oregon! State by state we trudge along, slowly trying to keep up with science and culture. Our generation, the one that brought you the Summer of Love in 1967, will be bringing you the Winter of Death. We will catch up, with marriage for all like Great Britain, and the freedom to choose how we die as in France. It’s inevitable, progress, love and death and taxes.

Just finished reading The Hummingbird’s Daughter by Luis Alberrto Urrea. It’s about a Mexican saint, about how the native people exult and fear death simultaneously. A wonderful, lyrical read, when it came to the end my Kindle prompted me to “Tweet that you finished this book.” I laughed out loud, since I’m not on Twitter and don’t even keep up with Goodreads. I’m blogging from Bob’s iPad, which he keeps to check with work from time to time, at the airport.

Happy President’s Day everyone aka Valentine’s Day for the Bride and Groom!

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We are traveling again. Can you tell where we’ve landed?

Touchdown makes Bob laugh

Birds and builders compete for attention

Vaval has been burned on the beach

Colors of the sea range from indigo to periwinkle

La cuisine est magnifique

Oops, did I give it away? Time is standing still here. The people are the most welcoming of any island paradise. It’s a place to slow down and breathe, read, knit, swim, and refresh ourselves. Thank you for my Valentine’s flowers.

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Nothing much new today, except that little thing about the Pope. I wonder what his parachute package will look like? Will they give him a condo in the Vatican with a kitchenette; a “memory” apartment option; maybe a nice gold watch? Just watched a podcast about a Hindu holiday in India called Kumbh Mela. Everyone swims in 2 rivers and gets blessed by these naked holy men who smoke marijuana, in a nutshell. I just knew my Catholic upbringing was lacking…but for me it took a Purim festival to figure out we all have different ways to worship. To practice faith.
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This week I took a quick trip alone, back to the Jersey Shore, to my land between 2 rivers, to see the Rocker and Ms Cait in their new, post-Sandy home. After so many years of not driving in the North on their turnpikes and parkways, I was full of faith at the start. My aggressive driving techniques have faded from too many country roads where everyone goes slow and stops for everything. But I crossed the Delaware Bridge with alacrity and managed to avoid bending any fenders. The first thing I noticed was the flags, or lack thereof. The flags that flew over bridges after 9/11 were mostly gone.

Times change, and maybe that’s good. We are really no longer a nation at war, hopefully leaving Afghanistan with the tools to govern themselves.

And speaking of tools. I may have said this before, but whenever a friend’s child would go off to college I’d pack them a tool box for their dorm room – a hammer, screwdriver, some nails. And then, at some point down the road, I told my adult children that I would no longer help them move, from college to first apartment, or apartment to a home. But, I would always be happy to help them “decorate!” Their second floor walk-up in a grand pre-War building is filled with light. Ms Cait found some plants and the Rocker took me on a tour of thrift shops in the neighborhood. And after watching my son build a table for their new nest in Asbury Park, I felt a certain peace.
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Hurricane Sandy may have taken away the boardwalk, and the big time developers may have dismantled the famous painted pony carousel and sold them off for a song, but there is a fresh, new vibe in this town. Everywhere we walked, they ran into someone they knew. A friend from Deane Porter elementary school started a vegan restaurant, “Seed to Sprout,” where you can take your loved one for a delicious and healthy Valentine’s prix fixe dinner. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing Cait’s Mom again, and sharing tastes of our sweet potato sushi and kale salad, with gelato that was to die for. It made absolutely no sense that it was made without cream, because it was that yummy. You can “Like” them on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/pages/From-Seed-to-Sprout/323375011030582

Faith is a funny thing. No matter how many storms may roar through your life, in our family, there is something special about the sunshine and strong wind that eventually follows. We will never leave the beach in our hearts.
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Happy Valentine’s Day to all you lovebirds.

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They like me, they really really like…wait. You thought I was eating lobster right? I’ve been traveling lately, but no, I was actually taste testing raw, vegan food. More on that later. Back to the award – Hip Hip Hooray and all that!

I’ve been awarded my very first blogging award. The Liebster is for very “…young blogs – usually of less than 200 followers but (http://tiggerrenewing.wordpress.com) stretched this a bit – and requires (you) to ask your nominees to answer some questions and I have now come up with those.. so here are the questions, and I’ve tried not to be too obvious but:” I know I was confused at first too, but it does say “young blogs” not young bloggers.

1) what is your first memory? My very first memory is of being bit by a bee under the clothes line in Victory Gardens. I was crying and called my foster mother, Nell “Mommy” for the first time. https://mountainmornings.net/2012/05/06/an-early-mothers-day/

2) what was your most embarrassing moment? Asking a rabbi’s wife if she had ever cleaned shrimp before.

3) as a teenager who was your role model? My cousin Bobby Ann. She had gorgeous, red hair and was studying speech pathology in college. She taught me to be fearless.

4) which book do you wish you had written? The one I’m still working on at the moment about the Flapper.
why? Because it will be a best seller, and it explains alot.

5) are there multiple realities? or just the one that we all experience the same? The scientist in me thinks we have the same experience, just different lenses. But sometimes I think time is fluid.

6) where [location] was your first kiss? On the Kindergarten school bus in Victory Gardens.

7) which island would you most like to live on? I’d actually love to live on Martha’s Vineyard. But then I’d be alone since Bob thinks it’s too cold.

8) when writing a thank you letter do you type or use pen and notepaper? Pen and paper.

9) paint or wallpaper in your bedroom? Paint

10) favourite nightwear? Cotton flannel nightgown. I know, too predictable for a nana.

Here is the fascinating thing about blogging. This award came from someone I don’t know in London. Which begs the question Great Aunt Bert asked me once, “Where does your blog go?” Now I must think of someone I’d like to nominate for the Liebster, and pass it on. Oh, and also figure out how to get a “meme” on my sidebar!
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So thank you Elayne, I’m truly honored.

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Forget about the asteroid hurtling towards earth today. Or even the discovery of King Richard III’s bones under a car park in Leicester. I’ve been immersed in past royalty of the historical fiction-type. In my zeal to de-clutter all things, Goodwill received a truckload of books from my bedroom. And while donating tomes I’ve read, I managed to uncover those books I’d always planned to read when I got the time. Like the 532 page winner of the Man Booker Prize, Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel. And of course, I had to start with her second book about Henry VIII, Bring Up the Bodies, written from the POV of his Master Chancellor, Thomas Cromwell.

So even though I know how and why the reign of the imposter Queen Anne Boleyn ends, I’m now learning more about her beginnings. How she helped the King to sever his relationship with the Holy Roman Church and its Pope, to start up his own church where the priests could marry. Because in Catholic school I was not taught that priests and popes kept hidden mistresses and children, so the Anglican idea was only legitimizing the culture. And of course, helping Henry to annul his twenty year marriage to his first Queen Katherine.

Chock full of intrigue and political schemes, I was caught up by something the King’s future paramour Queen says while she is still just a lady-in-waiting for Anne. Cromwell asks Jane Seymour 2 questions, “What have you been doing? Where have you been?” A shy woman, she answers the first, “Sewing mostly.” But of the second she says, “Where I’m sent.” And being a sly councillor, he knows she has been sent to court by her father in order to spy on the King.

Going where one is sent was true of women both royal and peasant in Tudor England. Queen Katherine of Aragon was sent to live out her life in a damp manor at Kimbolton, where she dies either of cancer or poisoning. And we all know that Anne is sent to the Tower, where she loses her head. They were guilty of growing old, of flirting and most importantly, not producing a male heir. But not so much of Queens in the Twelfth Century. Last night I happened to watch a PBS show called “She-Wolves, England’s Early Queens.”

I know I’m growing old when I much prefer this type of documentary to say, the Super Bowl. But after reading about the powerlessness of Britain’s Queens, it was remarkable to find that earlier Queens, like Matilda and Eleanor of Aquitaine, actually raised armies and fought off their Kings, even managing to escape from their prison/castle. One finally being restored to the throne, after her estranged husband dies, by her son, the new King. You see, her son was off fighting the Crusades, so she had to rule the country…in her 70s!
http://www.rmpbs.org/content/index.cfm/show/304740/She_Wolves-__-England’s-Early-Queens

Which makes the current Queen Elizabeth’s proclamation so sweet more than 800 years later. HRH the Queen issued a Letters Patent to make Kate’s baby bump (should it be a girl) a “Princess” and not just a “Lady.” So that whole trouble with Henry VIII should never be a bother again because even if the new royal first born is a girl, she will be next in line, behind William, to the Throne. Can we have an Amen Sister!
http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/kate-middleton-royal-baby-will-be-princess-1526521

“Charles Kidd, editor of Debrett’s Peerage and Baronetage, said the alteration was expected, especially in light of moves to pass legislation removing discrimination surrounding women succeeding to the throne.” Now just think, where have we heard of Debrett’s before? http://www.debretts.com/people/essential-guide-to-the-peerage.aspx
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There is a time for FIRSTs
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And TEN toes
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To lay back in the END ZONE
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Due to UNNECESSARY CUTENESS
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What a difference a day makes. Yesterday I was going to write about yoga. About how I’m dipping my toes into its practice; like an old dancer with creeky knees, I envisioned a newer, Nia-type dancer with fluid joints…or maybe just more synovial fluid in my joints? I’ve tried Slow Flow Vinyasa and Yoga for Arthritis, and I’m looking forward to a class of Restorative or maybe even Yin Yoga. Somewhere between doing it in a chair with octogenarians, and standing on my head with millenniums, will be my sweet spot. After all, the Bride and the Love Bug are practicing Baby Yoga, which looks like a lot of fun!

But today we hear on the news that a suicide bomber has attacked our embassy in Turkey. And all I can think of is the beautiful young woman who was knitting a pink and orange concoction in our Needle Lady circle on Wednesday. She was getting on a plane that night, leaving her 2 small children and husband to fly to Iraq. She works for an NGO and is part of a team that is teaching the Kurds how to manage and develop their architectural and historic monuments. The woman sitting next to her then wanted to hear what she studied (art history – listen up, here is an unusual career path for artists), but I wanted to know if she spoke Kurdish. Unfortunately, she said, she had studied Arabic. Then she told me that although many top schools are teaching Arabic in the states, funding has dried up for research and placements in the Arab world.

After assuring us that northern Iraq is quite safe, we said goodbye to our knitting colleague. Of course, we all thought Turkey is safe too. “A number of illegal groups ranging from Kurdish separatists to leftist and Islamist militants have launched attacks in recent years in Turkey, which is a member of Nato. The last big attack in Ankara in 2007, which killed nine and injured 120, was blamed by police investigators on a lone, leftist suicide bomber.” The French and German embassies are nearby, right off Attaturk Blvd, and it seems that we have been scouting for a different, safer more secure location for our embassy in Ankara for some time.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-21293598

So instead of regaling yoga, let’s thank those American women who can not only now fight on the battlefield with the best of ’em, but also those in the private and governmental sector who go to the hot spots in the world to try and build on a sense of peace and fledgling democracy. I’d like to wish a fond farewell to our most popular Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton. http://usnews.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/02/01/16791796-the-making-of-hillary-clinton-15-moments-that-define-her-public-life?lite

Today is her last day of work, she hands the keys over to John Kerry. It seems her biggest worry is what to do without a schedule. Catching up on 20 years of sleep deprivation is also a priority. Clinton’s answers, her attitude and gravitas at the Benghazi hearings were an impressive way to cap her career, to say the least. I thought back to Anita Hill getting grilled on the Hill, and smiled. Clinton’s body language is a serious lesson on how to handle manipulative, political men. http://feministing.com/2013/01/24/how-to-deal-with-a-mansplainer-starring-hillary-clinton-in-gifs/

You say goodbye, but I say hello to a new super-PAC – Hillary for President in 2016. During her tenure at the State Department, “…Clinton had visited 112 countries, logged 956,000 miles and spent the equivalent of 87 days traveling.” Mr Kerry, those are some major heels you’ll have to fill. Namaste.
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Closing arguments have wrapped up in a trial that has everybody talking in Central VA. In the sleepy town of Culpeper, Daniel Harmon-Wright is fighting to get his life back. An ex-police officer, he made the mistake of taking on the wrong woman in the parking lot of a Catholic School on February 9, 2012. Somebody called and said there was a “suspicious looking car.” Think of Kathy Bates in Fried Green Tomatoes in front of the Winn Dixie, “TOWANDA.”

Only it didn’t work out that well when 54-year-old Patricia Ann Cook decided that she wasn’t getting out of her car for no good reason. When Harmon-Wright tried reaching inside (to get her keys I presume), she closed the window on the officer’s arm and started dragging him down the pavement. That’s when he shot her. He is charged with “…murder, malicious shooting into an occupied vehicle, malicious shooting into an occupied vehicle resulting in a death and use of a firearm in the commission of a felony…A prosecutor called the fatal shooting “excessive” and unnecessary, while Harmon-Wright’s attorney said the officer was doing his job in shooting at a ‘fleeing felon.'” http://www.timesdispatch.com/news/state-regional/ap/ex-culpeper-officer-s-murder-trial-nears-end/article_76733eba-ade6-5188-a938-ec980d8b5db2.html

Wait, who’s the felon? The officer had a history of unnecessary force, “…about a month before the fatal incident, Harmon-Wright received a reprimand for entering a house with his gun drawn and forcing a teenager to the floor. It turned out he had the wrong teen.”

I remember thinking how strange and stupid the whole thing was when I first heard about it, why not shoot out the tires, or just threaten her, or aim at her hand or something? Now I love the police just like the next guy, or girl, but growing up in the North we learned to never take chances when somebody in a uniform with a gun approaches us. You do what they say. Period. However, you know that if they want to search your car, they need a little something called “probable cause.” Just because you’re a young man with long hair and a brake light is out won’t cut it…do you detect a note of the anti-establishment 60s? Maybe Cook was having a bad day, maybe it was a menopausal Towanda kinda day? Did she deserve to die?

It’s serendipitous that the jury will most likely deliver its verdict on the same day that a new immigration policy is unfolding further upstream in Washington, DC. Police have been stopping suspicious looking people, (ie Mexican) and asking for their identification in some states. They have been imprisoning people who may have been called for a domestic dispute, turning them over to Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), and deporting them…because they raised their voice and didn’t have a green card. Children have been separated from parents. During President Obama’s tenure, deportations have risen beyond the levels of President Bush, calling for a policy that “…would force local law enforcement to share fingerprints of those arrested with the Department of Homeland Security, which has immigration records, through the FBI.” http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/wonkblog/wp/2012/08/27/obama-is-deporting-more-immigrants-than-bush-republicans-dont-think-thats-enough/

We read about police states, but we never really think this could happen here. When is deadly force the right move? Who gets to question who about their immigration status? Now, because the clueless GOP thinks that losing 71% of the Latino vote in November is reason enough to consider a humane, comprehensive immigration policy, we should celebrate. Well, OK, just un pequeno.
RIP Patricia Ann Cook, the unarmed Sunday School teacher who was shot 7 times. And thank God for online petitions, like the one that kept the city from brushing this case under the proverbial rug.
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Red ghillies and oxfords, while we’re in the mood, high heels and sandals.

When we were packing up the house to move South, my daughter was helping with my closet. She’d lined up my shoes in 3 orderly groups – 1) shoes I definitely want to keep; 2) shoes I may want to keep; 3) shoes to give or throw away. Naturally, the second group was overflowing, which led her to ask me this simple question,
“How many (insert color) shoes do you need?”

No apology, I happen to love shoes, in all their myriad shapes and colors. There are pictures of me with my foster sister and her fiancee on a trip to see the circus in NYC. What circus I do not know. I was too young to remember this special trip, but was always told how much I loved my “circus shoes.” In black and white, CLR Child w Jackie 20130125I am beaming happiness with a little pair of oxfords on my feet. Perhaps this is where my need to see the Big Apple Circus every year with my children arose. Being able to wear only oxfords in Sacred Heart School, and only penny loafers at Camp St Joseph may be factors in my fashionable fetish. For sports at camp or school, we would wear white Keds, so you see we had little choice growing up in the 50s. There is also the lasting value in classic design. Trends may come and go, you can gain or lose a few pounds, but a classic pair of good leather shoes can last a lifetime! Though, fair warning to you pregnant girls, my shoe size increased by half with each child. I asked the Rocker once why he needs so many guitars, he looked at me and said, “Why do you need so many shoes?”

I’ve written here about shoes a number of times. About our town’s famously decadent shoe store Scarpa, https://mountainmornings.wordpress.com/2012/05/24/small-times/
I remember writing about the fashion writer who stood staring at the one red shoe in a gigantic see-through bin of discarded shoes at the Holocaust museum. Once, while writing about Pinterest, I even included a picture of my shoe shelves: https://mountainmornings.wordpress.com/2012/03/10/pining-or-pinning-that-is-the-question/

One of the first gifts I bought when I found out the Bride was pregnant with a girl was a pair of pink leather shoes. Will they be helpful in her quest to start walking, like those overly-polished and re-polished white Stride Rites I laced up my baby’s feet? Probably not. Will they be ever so adorable, absolutely! I was star-struck once while strolling down Madison Avenue with my sister Kay. We stopped short in front of a fancy children’s boutique with pink leather Italian shoes in the window. Of course, I had to get them for the toddler Bride, even if they might only last her a few months.

There have been Picasso shoe periods. The 60s teen years of wearing Weejuns, penny loafers without pennies, polished just so with black to tone down the oxblood color. The dancing decade of wearing espadrilles with rope you wind around your ankle, very Isadora Duncan. The Pappagallo phase of pastel and mini bows with Queen Anne heels paired nicely with mini skirts. Thankfully I never went in for the high dollar, designer stilettos of Sex and the City; either I was just too old wise or whygobroke/killing/your/feet.

So if you love shoes, you may enjoy reading this historical essay on shoes and gender and power, “Why DID Men Stop Wearing High Heels?” http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-21151350 _65446635_red_soled_compositeThink of Louis XIV, initially men wore heels in order to ride a horse and the height and color became tied with rank and royalty. But eventually, “High heels were seen as foolish and effeminate. By 1740 men had stopped wearing them altogether.” We women dropped the need for height after the French revolution too, but for some insane reason, in the mid-19th Century, we decided it might be nice to squeeze our feet into high heels again…well, if you read the article you’ll learn why, and it’s not pretty.

But take heart, these teeny tiny feet are ready to dance in the Music City. Thank you velcro, and thank you ecommerce for making fancy baby shoes as easy to find as say, a good pair of Minnetonka slippers.
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