ATTENTION MUST BE PAID, Bible Readers: Scripture needs to say "AS a sparrow..." (Wednesday's Wisdom)

SPARROWS ARE FEATURED IN MY BOOKS

SPARROWS ARE FEATURED IN MY BOOKS

SPARROWS ARE FEATURED IN MY BOOKS

The other week I saw a male house sparrow bathing in a puddle that was on the part of a greenway that runs along the Hudson River.

Upon my seeing the little creature I instantly thought of Henry David Thoreau's quote which was in response to how he felt when this bird type was visiting his property.

He is known to have said “I once had a sparrow alight upon my shoulder for a moment, while I was hoeing in a village garden, and I felt that I was more distinguished by that circumstance than I should have been by any epaulet I could have worn.”

Chekov's Olga Seregeyevna Prozoro and me. Remembering my father's last days.

Following up to yesterday's post, I will tell you that my father did not leave the hospital on the "Monday after Thanksgiving," as he had hoped to do, which is indicated in the audio playing during the video clip in that post. Instead he was still in the hospital on the "Monday after Thanksgiving" and declining quickly. He died a week after that Thanksgiving — November the 30th, fifteen years ago today at 7:35 AM, due to complications with septic shock.


The year he died, Thanksgiving Day was November 23rd. He had evidently recorded a tape (that is being played in the movie-clip in yesterday's post) on the eve of that Thanksgiving, November 22nd — the day Kennedy was assassinated thirty-two years prior — as I recalled in an earlier entry.

My father had been in the hospital due to consequences brought on by severe emphysema, which was caused by his intense Pall Mall cigarette smoking. Although he had quit smoking a few years prior to his death, his wife continued to smoke. He insisted her second hand-smoke did not bother him, and even through his wheezing, as he was declining severely in health, he joked that when he died, the tobacco industry would raise the price of cigarettes in a phenomenal way, saying they would begin to miss his revenue.

Wednesdays Wisdom: Ducks also set the best example for how we should get along. (A follow-up to my 11-9-16 blog entry.)

My father died twenty-one years on this day of November 30th in 1995, which was the Monday after Thanksgiving. In any event, from the moment I first knew him, as evidenced in the image above featuring one of our earliest encounters, I loved him dearly. And I'm told that he was very excited about my coming into the world, which is demonstrated, to a certain extent in the following picture.

The image features him with my mother and was taken a little under a month before I was born. In it he's comparing his belly to hers! My dad had a great sense of humor as well as a quick wit, and he often put a spin on the lyrics of songs, which is a fact, I've written about in prior entries here on Blogger, including one that I published six years ago on November 29th 2010.

In the aforementioned post, I wrote that, "Most people when recalling my father's antics will remember him for having his own takes on "Top-40" music hits. For example, with the song, "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden," the lyrics go,"I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden . . ." but my father's take on it was,"I beg your pardon, I never farted in your rose garden . . .

"As for the once-upon-a-time hit song,"Bad Moon Rising," the lyric-line is,"There'a a bad moon on the rise". My father's version? "There's a bathroom on the right." And with Paul McCartney's, Band on the Run, where the lyric-line,"band on the run" repeats over and over again, my father's rendition was,"band with the runs."

"My father's sense of humor, and apparent relationship with songs, remained with him throughout his life. Even at the very bitter end, when he had hoped to be out of a hospital where he had been for treatment due to severe consequences of emphysema, he recorded a tape giving Louis Armstrong "a run for his money".

"In the tape, my father expresses what the doctors had hoped to do: have him out of the hospital the Monday after Thanksgiving. Sadly that was not to be, as he was still in the hospital the "Monday after Thanksgiving" and declining quickly: dying that week after Thanksgiving instead," which was on November 30, 1995.

Wednesday's Wisdom: "....a time to mourn"

My father died twenty-one years on this day of November 30th in 1995, which was the Monday after Thanksgiving. In any event, from the moment I first knew him, as evidenced in the image above featuring one of our earliest encounters, I loved him dearly. And I'm told that he was very excited about my coming into the world, which is demonstrated, to a certain extent in the following picture.

The image features him with my mother and was taken a little under a month before I was born. In it he's comparing his belly to hers! My dad had a great sense of humor as well as a quick wit, and he often put a spin on the lyrics of songs, which is a fact, I've written about in prior entries here on Blogger, including one that I published six years ago on November 29th 2010.

In the aforementioned post, I wrote that, "Most people when recalling my father's antics will remember him for having his own takes on "Top-40" music hits. For example, with the song, "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden," the lyrics go,"I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden . . ." but my father's take on it was,"I beg your pardon, I never farted in your rose garden . . .

"As for the once-upon-a-time hit song,"Bad Moon Rising," the lyric-line is,"There'a a bad moon on the rise". My father's version? "There's a bathroom on the right." And with Paul McCartney's, Band on the Run, where the lyric-line,"band on the run" repeats over and over again, my father's rendition was,"band with the runs."

"My father's sense of humor, and apparent relationship with songs, remained with him throughout his life. Even at the very bitter end, when he had hoped to be out of a hospital where he had been for treatment due to severe consequences of emphysema, he recorded a tape giving Louis Armstrong "a run for his money".

"In the tape, my father expresses what the doctors had hoped to do: have him out of the hospital the Monday after Thanksgiving. Sadly that was not to be, as he was still in the hospital the "Monday after Thanksgiving" and declining quickly: dying that week after Thanksgiving instead," which was on November 30, 1995.

Monday's Musings Father's Day 2020

Yesterday was Father's Day and the photographs atop this entry are ones from various moments of childhood and they feature me with my dad on various occasions.

He moved out of our house the year the latter picture (where I have a cast on a broken wrist) was taken; so Father's Day can be such a bittersweet holiday for me.

Sometimes bitter because he left when I was so young and I subsequently spent most of my life trying to garner his attention and approval to very little avail.

Moreover, he passed away in 1995 and that adds to my sadness on Father's Day.

But Father's Day can also be sweet because no matter what, a father is still a father, and mine had a quick wit, which is a trait I have when I don't take myself so seriously.

My father died 24 years ago today.

Today is the 24th anniversary of my father's death.

He can be seen in this photograph a a very young boy using a frying pan as an instrument.

His brothers are accompanying him with their instruments. Perhaps those earlier musical endeavors gave my father his apparent "love" for pop music. Most people when recalling my father's antics will remember him for having his own takes on "Top-40" music hits.

The Monday after Thanksgiving

My father can be seen in this photograph playing the frying pan. His brothers are accompanying him with their instruments. Perhaps those earlier musical endeavors gave my father his apparent "love" for pop music. 

Most people when recalling my father's antics will remember him for having his own takes on "Top-40" music hits. For example, with the song, "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden," the lyrics go,"I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden . . ." but my father's take on it was,"I beg your pardon, I never farted in your rose garden . . ." 

As for the once-upon-a-time hit song,"Bad Moon Rising," the lyric-line is,"There'a a bad moon on the rise."

My father's version? "There's a bathroom on the right." And with Paul McCartney's, Band on the Run, where the lyric-line,"band on the run" repeats over and over again, my father's rendition was,"band with the runs."

My father's sense of humor, and apparent relationship with songs, remained with him throughout his life. Even at the very bitter end, when he had hoped to be out of a hospital where he had been for treatment due to severe consequences of emphysema, he recorded a tape giving Louis Armstrong "a run for his money".

In the tape, my father expresses what the doctors had hoped to do: have him out of the hospital the Monday after Thanksgiving. Sadly that was not to be, as he was still in the hospital the "Monday after Thanksgiving" and declining quickly: dying that week after Thanksgiving instead.

Father's Day is FOR THE BIRDS!

This past Monday, June 13th, six days before today's holiday of Father's Day, I heard a sound in my garden. I still don't have my replacement glasses (which I need as my accident last month resulted in them being ruined as you can see from the image above), so I relied on my Canon 70D's long lens to see what was causing the unusual noise. The conditions were not optimal for photographing. It was in the wee (and still dark) hours of the morning. Also I was inside my place looking out through a broken window. 

Still, I followed the noise from the vantage point of being behind a camera, then realized a baby bird or very young fledging, was alongside the American Robin who has been visiting my urban garden which is in close proximity to NYC's Central Park. I was thrilled for I've never seen such a young robin! However, both of these birds were hiding behind one of my clay pots, and with that, as well as the conditions I've just described, the images I did get are unclear, but I'm posting them anyway (below).

AMERICAN ROBINS

AMERICAN ROBINS

For as I mentioned in a recent post here on Blogger, when photo-ops do not turn out as I would like, I try to console myself with the wisdom that E.B. White spoke of in his essay, "Remembrance is Sufficient."

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.

"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.

And Now A Word (Or Two) About Peanuts

This morning I woke up to breaking news that an "Iowa man's knee was shattered after discarded peanut shells caused him to slip onto the floor of a national steakhouse chain's Cedar Falls restaurant." And he subsequently followed a lawsuit seeking thousands upon thousands in damages! Evidently this was not the first time an individual served a restaurant because he/she had slipped on peanut shells. According to the same news source, "In 2008, a woman received $43,000 after she slipped on peanuts and fractured her kneecap at a Texas Roadhouse."

My hearing the breaking new re suing over peanuts came the same time that I was about to post my own breaking news related to peanuts which is this:

The bluejay, pictured above seems to be "showing off" the nourishment that I've provided within a wreath-style whole peanut bird feeder which I've recently hung in my urban (NYC) rooftop garden. His/her actions in procuring peanuts were quite an inspiration to me the other day.

I'm bacccccccccck . . .

Today is the eve of August the Eleventh, and I'm bacccccccck, as promised (on 7.30.12), from my mini "hiatus" from blogger, after spending time to be with my sister during her much welcomed annual visit.

Prior to my sister's arrival — as I was composing my entry on 7.30.12 (which discussed the loss I was feeling over my absent cardinal) — my intent was to have today's post be a return to another loss in my urban garden. This loss being the death of my very sweet mini Japanese Larch (Larix Kaempferi) who lived in a lovely bowl (pictured above) before succumbing to the awful heat wave and periods of drought we've had in NYC this summer.

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.

A Sweet New Year

Here's wishing a happy and blessed Rosh Hashanah to those who celebrate the holiday. I was not raised in the faith associated with this day, so I confess that I do not even know if this is a proper salutation for whose who do honor it. 

While I have friends and colleagues who celebrate it, and who have shared a lot of information about Rosh Hashanah with me, most of my knowledge regarding its meaning, its religious significance, traditions and foods associated with it have come from, odd as it may seem, my parish priest, and, of course, the Internet. 

This is somewhat sad since I have "prominent" Jewish ancestors, from which I was taught nothing about observances or customs, because I did not even know of any of my Jewish roots until I was in my mid to late thirties. As a matter of fact, this aspect of my family history was only brought to my attention because of my keen interest in reading and writing.

Honoring the Artist/Writer Edward Lear AND Albert Youngquist, who was oh so dear!

According to Wiki, Edward Lear, was born on May 12th or May 13th in the year 1812.  He was evidently a man of many talents including the ability to create illustrations. One of his works can be seen in the image posted atop this blog entry. Lear's illustrations are worth checking out, but I'll leave that to your digression, dear reader. I chose to include this one due to my appreciation of birds.

In any event, it is today's date, May the Twelfth, that Holiday Insights associates with Lear. And they deem it to be Limerick Day. This is because another part of Edward Lear's repertoire is his limericks, which he popularized in The Book Of Nonsense.

In addition to a theatrical play, LBJ is featured in "Imperfect Strangers..."

IMAGE CREDIT

Last night a friend took me to see The Great Society, the Broadway play now being featured at The Vivian Beaumont Theatre in NYC. Playbill describes it  as a production "Capturing Johnson’s passionate and aggressive attempts to build a great society for all, The Great Society follows his epic triumph in a landslide election to the agonizing decision not to run for re-election just three years later. It was an era that would define history forever: the rise of the Civil Rights Movement, the deaths of Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy, the destruction of Vietnam, and the creation of some of the greatest social programs America has ever known—and one man was at the center of it all: LBJ."

I also reference President Lyndon B. Johnson in my book, Imperfect Strangers, a story which begins from a child's perspective.

IF the dog hadn't STOPPED to SNEEZE . . . .

The anniversary of my father's death will be at the end of November, for he died on November 30, 1995; and indeed it is a fact you might recall, as I've referred to this event here on Blogger in prior posts, including one which you may refer to by clicking here. One of my father's favorite sayings was, "if the dog hadn't stopped to sneeze, he'd 've caught the rabbit!" The dog's itchy nose was the rabbit's fortune, as you probably can surmise; but, as you can also surmise, that has nothing to do with why my father reiterated this quote time and time again.

I confess I tend to be an "if only XX had happened, YY would be ok" type of person: playing scenarios that have come and gone, over and over in my mind, as if that would somehow change the outcome; but alas, there is no Edit/Undo or Ctrl/Z outside of life in cyber-space.

Most recently (this past Friday, November the 7th), I was caught up in what I had done wrong re plans I had made with my friend, Michael (pictured above). 

Michael is a longtime friend of mine who lives across the street —  a few doors west of me — and among other things, we share a love of gardening. Moreover, it was Michael who helped me prepare my urban (NYC) garden for a so-called renovation in September; and then again for Hurricane Sandy this past October. I've discussed both of these "scenarios" in previous entries here on Blogger, and you may refer to them by clicking here as well as here respectively.

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.

Soon It Will Be Father's Day!

The photograph that is atop this entry is one sent to me by Joan Budilovsky. She wanted me to see how my image, Inside The Cathedral, looked on a wall in her home. Inside The Cathedral is one of my kaleidoscopic photographs which can be rendered on an array of surfaces (including acrylic, canvas, metal, wood, special art papers as well as poster paper) by Fine Art America (FAA) to be used for wall art. FAA can also print the images on items for personal and/or home use.

Tuesday Truths WK 55: This recent red light will not stop me!

Hello, and welcome to the fifty-seventh week of my Tuesday's Truths series which I'm posting at night! I apologize to readers who might've been expecting me to publish an entry earlier in the day, which is my standard — at least for my Tuesday's Truth series.

The truth for this week is that I'm in the middle of embarking on a new path after having received a red light for a book project that I was helping Cam's daughter with. Ever since June 9th 2017, I've been going back and forth with a big company, in order to get their permission for Cam's daughter to use images that I took over the course of a couple years of their public event (a parade), which is very well known by people all over the world.

Therefore, even though the pictures which Cam's daughter wanted to include in her story, are all taken by me, I had to get their permission, as their event is considered a trademark. Most folks had thought I would not have a problem, and that Cam's daughter could use my photos under a clause for fair use, but it seems that's not the case.