"Help one another is part of the religion of sisterhood." (Louisa May Alcott)

Back in the saddle leading to cyber-space, after a visit with my younger sister, who can be seen in the photograph posted above — to the left of yours truly — in a picture taken a few months after our younger sister was born. As you may recall, dear reader, in the last entry that I made to my blog, I referenced her visit, and while this blog is not about my comings and goings, the fact that her visit is where I left off, brings me to my starting point for today.

It is said that "sisters are different flowers from the same garden", and if you are familiar with this quote, dear reader, you might surmise (from knowing yours truly is a person who — among other things — maintains her urban terrace garden and dedicates a good portion of this blog to writing about gardening experiences) that I should run with this quote about sisterhood in this posting, and elaborate on it on my first day back to work. However, I am letting that quote run from this blog as I have some difficulty in citing quotes from unknown authors. Instead, I will focus part of today's entry on Louisa May Alcott's quote regarding sisters: "Help one another is part of the religion of sisterhood."

For Conor McDonald on his 30th Birthday

Today is the thirtieth birthday of Conor McDonald. He can be seen in the picture atop this entry with his father, NYPD Detective Steven McDonald who died as the result of a heart attack, nineteen days ago on January 10, 2017; at age fifty-nine.

According to a news alert, "Steven McDonald was his son’s present age, 29, when he was shot in the head, throat and spine by a troubled, teenaged shooter on July 12, 1986. It happened in Central Park. Steven McDonald was newly married and his wife, Patti Ann, was three months pregnant when the shooting happened.

"Conor Patrick McDonald was born on Jan. 29, 1987, and he was baptized by John Cardinal O’Connor in Bellevue Hospital on Steven McDonald’s 30th birthday.

"Over the years, the family marched together in the annual St. Patrick’s Day parade.

"In 2010, Conor followed his father into the NYPD. In 2016, Stephen McDonald beamed with pride, wearing his dress uniform, when his son was promoted on two different occasions at Police Headquarters: first to detective, and later in the year to sergeant.

"After Steven McDonald suffered a massive heart attack on Jan. 6, Conor kept a vigil at his father’s bedside with his mother.

"On Sunday morning, he posted a Facebook photo of him marching next to his dad’s wheelchair in a recent Saint Patrick’s Day parade.

"Now, he’s sharing a photo (the one atop this entry) that speaks volumes about the love and respect they had for each other.

'"I’ll see you on the other side Daddio,” he wrote. “I love you forever.'"

Conor McDonald is blessed to have the gift of faith and the assurance that he will see his "Daddio" on the "other side," but I'm still including Paul Simon's song about a parent (albeit a mother but it could easily be a father) and child's reunion being "only a motion away." 

I hope for the sake of Patti Ann, (Conor's mother) that "motion away" will not be for quite sometime, but I thought I'd send out the song to him on what might be a mournful birthday.

Here's Tuesday's Truths WK 56: Childrens' Views on Summer Vacation

It's the fifty-fourth week of my Tuesday's Truths series! It is also the day after Labor Day, which may be the first day back to school for a number of  children. Readers of this blog will surely have memories of their own school days, and especially that first day back to school after a summer vacation.

I came across this PEANUTS strip in my newsfeed this past Friday this past Friday. It caused me to think of my elementary school days, when the first day of school meant having to write about one's summer vacation.

Baby Robin Makes Me Recall P.D. Eastman!

The image atop this entry is a screen shot of a page from one of my favorite books, Are You My Mother?, which is written and illustrated by P.D. Eastman. Eastman's book cover can seen in the next image (from a Wikipedia page).

The aforementioned Wiki Page explains that Eastman's book tells the "the story about a hatchling bird. His mother, thinking her egg will stay in her nest where she left it, leaves her egg alone and flies off to find food. The baby bird hatches. He does not understand where his mother is so he goes to look for her. In his search, he asks a kitten, a hen, a dog, and a cow if they are his mother. They each say, 'No.'

"Then he (the little baby bird) sees an old car, which cannot be his mother for sure. In desperation, the hatchling calls out to a boat and a plane, and at last, convinced he has found his mother, he climbs onto the teeth of an enormous earth mover. A loud 'SNORT' belches from its exhaust stack, prompting the bird to utter the immortal line, 'You are not my mother! You are a SNORT!' But as it shudders and grinds into motion he cannot escape. 'I want my mother!' he shouts.

"But at this climactic moment, his fate is suddenly reversed. The earth mover drops him back in his nest just as his mother is returning home. The two are united, much to their delight, and the baby bird tells his mother about the adventure he had looking for her."

Eastman's story comes to mind on many occasions whenever I see a baby bird looking around and the other day when I was in Central Park and spotted a baby American robin doing this.

Monday's Musings

A Northern mockingbird, who appears to be checking out a ball-shaped terra-cotta object which is on the floor of my rooftop garden, is featured in the two images atop this entry.

The object of this bird's interest is an upside down planter that is better suited as an outdoor sculpture than the planter it is supposed to be. This is because it is very difficult to plant flora inside of it. You might suspect this from seeing the next image, which was taken in 2011, and features creeping thyme attempting to thrive in the round container.

In any event, to the mockingbird's right (or left in the first two photos) is a grape that has rolled off a saucer of grapes (which can be seen near to the container).

An imaginative person, upon seeing the mocker staring at the terra-cotta object, might envision that the mocker thinks the round structure is a huge grape. Whatever this bird may or may not be thinking, remains private with him/her, for he/she has not revealed any thoughts on the matter.

Admittedly, the two top photographs are quite similar, but they are not identical. The gaze of this mocker is slightly different from picture to picture, the same holds true for the next sets of photos.

Mother's Day 2021

My mother, when she was pregnant with me, can be seen in the color snapshot featured atop this post. She can also be seen (pregnant with me) in the picture directly below.

My mother looks radiant and dad seems happy too, but even after having two more daughters, their marriage fell apart when I was in grade school. He moved out of the house and she was inconsolable.

Perhaps because I'm the eldest child, she turned to me with her heavy heart and everything that was on her mind. For much of the time I felt like I was her mother on many levels.

"It takes a sharp eye........or does it..........?" The Possible Influence of "Wink" -------- Fanny Sonnenschein's Family

This post is about the impact of my being legally blind, the impact this condition has on my photo-artistry, and to offer a follow-up to the two radio interviews that I've given on this subject. These interviews are posted on my web-site.

One interview is with Karen Ingenthron Lewis. She conducted this interview for W.B.A.I. Radio (a prominent FM station in New York City) for the program, The Al Lewis Show. Al Lewis was known for his role as Grandpa in the television series, The Munsters. The other interview is with John Montone. He conducted this interview for 1010 W.I.N.S. (a prominent AM station in New York City) for his news feature, John Montone's New York, where he posed the question (regarding legal blindness and photo-artistry), "It takes a sharp eye...or does it?"

In addition to my being born with NF (discussed in the second post), I came into the world with a severe form of myopia. The latter was complicated by my having a long eye-ball and a stretched retina, causing me to have extremely low vision. The prevailing attitudes about women who wore glasses during the year that I was born most likely shaped my mother's attitude about my wearing glasses. Her opinion also formed my view of having to wear them during childhood, which in retrospect, contributed to my artistic temperament.

Soon it will be Mother's Day 2018!

THIS SCENCE IS FEATURED IN VOLUME ONE

THIS SCENCE IS FEATURED IN VOLUME ONE

In a little over a week's time (as in Sunday the thirteenth of May), it will be Mother's Day! And if anyone knows the importance of a mother, it's is Frannie and Vincenzo, who are two to of Cam's (my visiting cardinal) children!

Lessons Learned in the Garden on Mother's Day (Mother may know best.)

It is Mother's Day, and my seeing my Paeonia suffriticosa (Tree Peony) enjoying its friends is cause for a pleasure to be shared — probably like a pleasure mothers have in taking photographs of their children and sharing them proudly with anyone and everyone who is kind enough to view them — as you are, dear reader, in viewing my chronology of this season's Paeonia suffriticosa and other things that are flourishing in my urban terrace garden. 

My Paeonia suffriticosa is truly enjoying her friends, as evidenced in the photograph posted above, which shows a view of the most southwest corner of my terrace garden. It appears to me that my Paeonia suffriticosa is bending down, to give my Fancy Leaf Coral Bells aka Heuchera 'Marmalade' a kiss; a kiss much like the kiss I gave my sister soon after she was born, and a gesture that inspired my mother to take the photograph posted below of yours truly with my younger sister —

— a woman I've blogged about in a previous post and where the same photograph is posted.

SOON IT WILL BE MOTHER'S DAY!

In two weeks time, it will be Mother's Day! Therefore, dear reader, if you still have your mother, or have a sister who is a mother, an aunt who is a mother, a niece or a cousin who is a mother, a daughter or daughter-in-law who is a mother; this is a good time to think about a gift that you might want to give these special people!

My Acquaintance Eileen

My acquaintance, Eileen, can be seen in the photograph atop this entry. Eileen Bransten Simpson is someone I've known since the early 1990's (through my then fairly active membership at The Church of the Blessed Sacrament in NYC).

I have seen Eileen a number of times at mass, including one for the Easter Vigil, when she converted from her religion to Catholicism. She went through RCIA to this, and sponsored by her husband, John Simpson, who died this past Sunday, August the 20th. Simpson's funeral mass was this past Wednesday, which I attended, and, of course, I saw Eileen.

The following day, someone helped me recall a story about Eileen, that our mutual friend, the late Donna De Solis had told us: Eileen is the daughter of Ruth McKenney, the deceased author of My Sister Eileen.

And Eileen Bransten Simpson is named for McKenny's sister. According to Wiki, "the stories were originally published in The New Yorker, which eventually inspired many other works: My Sister Eileen (a 1938 book), a play, a musical, a radio play (and an un-produced radio series), two motion pictures, and a CBS television series in the 1960–1961 season.

"Mother's Day is for the birds."

I have often said, "Mother's Day is for the birds," so I was delighted to see today's Mutts comic strip (a copy is posted atop this entry) in my In Box. I just love Patrick McDonnell's drawings of birds, but that art medium is a talent I do not possess. Thankfully I can take photographs of them and the ones posted below are ones I've featured within this blog before, however because they are images of mother birds with their offspring, I am including them within this post in honor of today's holiday which is Mother's Day.

Mother's Day 2012

I have done volunteer work nearly every Sunday since 2003 (or has it been since 2002) at an assisted living center, a fact I've mentioned a few times here on TLLG (including a post which you may refer to by clicking here), and since today is Mother's Day, all the residents of The Home wished me a Happy Mother's Day today, knowing I am not a mother of any children, although sometimes growing up I felt like a mother to my own mother, as you may recall in one of my past  blog entries here on TLLG — which you may refer to by clicking here. 

On my way home, I ran into a young woman who asked me, "Are you a mother?" 

Monday Morning Musings: Reflections on Thee "Official" Memorial Day

ROSES WITH ROSEMARY

The photograph posted above, which was taken in the northwest corner of my urban terrace garden, features a few of my Roses — mugging a shot of my Rosmarinus officinalis (Rosemary), is quite apropos for this blog posting, because today is "officially" Memorial Day, and  roses are often laid at graves, while Rosmarinus officinalis, is the herb that signifies remembrance (as discussed in a prior posting on this blog which you may read by clicking here). 

In my blog entry this past Saturday, I wrote about the fact that the 30th of May, was initially set aside for observing Memorial Day, and, I pointed out that it is now celebrated on the last Monday in May, which this year is indeed May 30th. However, next year, Memorial Day, will be celebrated on May 28th 2012, which may bring back the perhaps much needed rhetoric to help re-educate and remind Americans of the true meaning of this solemn day. Details about these efforts can be found by clicking here.

As a child, I was very sensitive to the solemnity of Memorial Day, having had a father who served in the war, and, therefore, I was thrilled at the prospect to be able to participate in the Memorial Day Parade which marched down Main Street in my hometown. My being allowed to participate in the parade was due to the fact that I was a Brownie, and my troop, because of our service to the community, had been invited to join the commemoration of the solemn day.

Memorial Day 2020

A BRAMHALL CARTOON

As many know, Memorial Day (which is being celebrated today), was first widely observed on May 30, 1868 to commemorate the sacrifices of Civil War soldiers, by proclamation of Gen. John A. Logan of the Grand Army of the Republic, an organization of former Union sailors and soldiers.

But in 1968 Congress passed the Uniform Monday Holiday Act, which established Memorial Day as the last Monday in May in order to create a three-day weekend for federal employees; the change went into effect in 1971.

According to Wikipedia, "The law took effect at the federal level in 1971. After some initial confusion and unwillingness to comply, all 50 states adopted Congress' change of date within a few years.

"Memorial Day endures as a holiday which most businesses observe because it marks the unofficial beginning of summer. The Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW) and Sons of Union Veterans of the Civil War (SUVCW) advocate returning to the original date, although the significance of the date is tenuous. The VFW stated in a 2002 Memorial Day Address:

"Changing the date merely to create three-day weekends has undermined the very meaning of the day. No doubt, this has contributed a lot to the general public's nonchalant observance of Memorial Day.

"Starting in 1987 Hawaii's Senator Daniel Inouye, a World War II veteran, introduced a measure to return Memorial Day to its traditional date. Inouye continued introducing the resolution until his death in 2012."

This fact re switching the date of the holiday may be the reason that a number of Americans seem to have forgotten the true meaning of this solemn day; as poignantly illustrated in the cartoon by Bramhall, seen in the image atop this entry.

Honoring Saint Francis AND Pica-John

Saint Francis of Assisi died 1,792 years ago yesterday, October the third, in the year 1226. According to records, he was forty-four  years old. Today, October 4th is his feast day. Among many things, he is often remembered as the patron saint of animals; especially birds.

I have a small statue of Saint Francis above my desk (seen in the image atop this entry where it is standing at the far left) to serve as an inspiration for me to persevere in my work to help others learn about the needs avian community through my book series, Words In Our Beak; as well as through any presentation I can make that is related to our feathered creatures.

If Dorothy Parker had met Linda Derector . . .

The photographs atop today's entry may be faded, but most of my memories associated with it are not. I believe that all of these images were taken by my mother, for she was the one who attempted to "document" our family life pictorially when I was growing up.

In pre-adolscent years (which were much later than the years when these photos were taken) I found the constant picture taking to be annoying, and I felt as if more attention was being given to setting up images than living in the moment in which a given picture was being taken: a sentiment that I've already expressed within this blog (in a 2010 post called Thoughts on the Creators of Photo-Albums, which you may refer to by clicking here). And if it's true that the setting up of "photographic scenes" was more "standard" than experiencing them, it's no wonder, for those were very painful years in our family as my father had left us to be with his secretary. As I've said (in other entires here on Blogger) before, perhaps, behind the lens, my mother was protecting herself from the sadness she must've felt.

However, in the pictures above today's entry our family was still intact. The first one is of my maternal grandfather holding my sisters and me and has been included in a previous entry here on Blogger, the second one is an image of us girls which was also featured in a prior post, and in the third image, I am featured preparing to feed birds, which may have been when my appreciation for the array of birds (who now visit the garden) began.

And while I usually write about my garden and the birds that visit it, the fact that I may or may not have acquired my appreciation for birds at a young age is not the "thesis" for today's entry; rather the focus will be on the wearing of eyeglasses, which you can see I am doing in all three photographs.

Thoughts on the Creators of Photo-Albums

If you have been following this blog, you know that I create, produce and sell greeting cards for all occasions that are about more than communication. 

Many of these works are based on my original prints and all of these items can be viewed on my web-site where purchase information is available. Perhaps my inclination to design cards comes from my mother, who for the first nine years of my life designed our family's Christmas cards beginning with the one of yours truly posted above this entry.

Blessed are those who mourn . . .

"It's May! It's May!"  

My peony opened today!

"It's here! It's here!" 

I am still thinking of the lyrics posted above this blog entry that are from a well-known song in Camelot.  (I posted the lyrics to it on May 1st.) Consequently, what a nice surprise to go out on my urban terrace garden this morning and find this little guy, my first peony flower of this season, from my Paeonia suffruitcosa (Tree Peony) as seen in the photograph at the top of this post.

The peony flowers are appearing much later this year than last, but it appears that they will be just as lovely. 

As you may recall, last spring my Paeonia suffruitcosa (Tree Peony) flowered in April, and provided the inspiration for many posts including, The Peonies Are in Bloom Again, posted on April 24th, 2010, as well as earning the bragging rights for being featured on the back page of my downloadable brochure, where I feature selections from my line of invitations that preserve moments in time, event program covers that enhance any occasion and greeting cards that are about more than communication in both venues.

Today's peony, which appears to be playfully peeking out on to my garden, is especially precious: a nice sign of life and hope for me, after having attended a funeral Mass yesterday for Ms. MH, a sister of a dear friend (KM) of mine who has very advanced multiple sclerosis, is legally blind, and was recently moved (not her choice) from her apartment — which she loved — to a nursing home on the Upper Eastside of New York City.

The Gathering of Rosebuds

"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, 

Old Time is still a-flying: 

And this same flower that smiles to-day"
 To-morrow will be dying."

Most everyone is familiar with the aforementioned "quote" as it includes the words which are the opening stanza to Robert Herrick's famous poem, To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time, a poem, that was the inspiration for the painting, Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May, by John William Waterhouse. The painting is pictured above in an image from Wiki.

As Wiki concurs, Herrick's poems were known for their "overriding message", that "life is short, the world is beautiful, love is splendid, and we must use the short time we have to make the most of it".