Muses and Musing

A Very Favorite

by judithmcconnell
written by judithmcconnell

Favorite places important to some. Favorite colors, too. And weather, music, memories. Myriads of favorites, I would posit, make up our lives at whatever ages. Most of us have longtime favorite friends. But not always.

Meet Suzanne. This is how we meet. Okay, first while my son is earning his MA I decide to return to school to complete my undergrad. Three years of attending full time while working part time. As graduation nears some of us are spending an evening calling alumni from the Evanston campus for contributions. Since I’ll be driving from the city the coordinator asks if I might pick up Suzanne from her nearby apartment. “Sure,” I say and do.

Approximately an hour each way we visit. She is from Wyoming and is an executive at the Railroad Retirement Board. We seem to have similar interests, taste and humor. We see one another again on the Northwestern grounds, graduation day where she introduces me to her friends and I my son, daughter and son in law to them. Suzanne and I decide to stay in touch and we do. I’m so glad too.

We go together to become docents at the Chicago Historical Society so attend information sessions, some days both do tours, and enjoy special docent events such as the dinner on a boat on Lake Michigan from which I walk home in my bare feet because my sandals hurt. Whatever. We laugh alot. We just always have the nicest times.

Her friend, who has front row Symphony seats often takes us to dinner, drops us off for the performance, then picks us up to take us home. How great is that. Sometimes just she and I go out to dinner or a movie, others when I am entertaining she is, of course, included. There is so much about her and our relationship that is wonderful. She isn’t judgemental – that’s a plus – she is intelligent, well mannered, and so thoughtful; my degree is in political science and one holiday I receive as a gift from her of a White House ornament.

While a new friend, I often think of her as my favorite friend. Sadly we are only friends for six or seven years when she learns she has cancer. Why? She is slight, jogs everyday, doesn’t smoke or drink save an occasional glass of wine. She is so pretty, kind, and happy. She is the best company. I pray for a cure.

Her brother is visiting from Wyoming one holiday and I invite her to bring him along to a Christmas Eve get together – mostly my family and a few friends. He is great and clearly enjoys our company as much as we enjoy his. Must run in her family. As they leave the quiet festivities I suggest they take ham home as we’ve so much and think they might enjoy it. They decline, graciously. Soon after there is a knock at the door. I’m pretty certain it isn’t Santa Claus – they’ve decided after all they would like to take some ham. I wrap it, we exchange another hug and kiss and they are happily on their way into the snowy winter night. Perfect.

The phone rings a short time later. OMG. As Suzanne and her brother leave the second time they encounter a horrific auto accident at the corner they would have been crossing if earlier. So grateful they miss a potential fatality.

Medically, things are not going well for my friend. She is staunch, continues to work which I wouldn’t be able to do. Sometimes I bring her dinner and we visit optimistically on the balcony of the lovely condo she buys a few years before. Then, within only the length of a year or so she’s gone. Deep sadness is an understatement. Missing her, too, as I continue to do.

Especially at Christmastime. Every year since the first favorite ornament I carefully place upon the tree is the thoughtful favorite gift of an especially favorite friend. Thank you God for putting Suzanne into my life if only for a time. A favorite time.

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Interior Design

My Ten Dollar Treasure

by judithmcconnell
written by judithmcconnell

Oh, you may say, it’s only a picture. True. But wait.

If you read my previous post, Design Decision, you are aware that my taste is traditional and believe rooms ought be ‘collected’ as opposed to ‘decorated.’ At the time I purchase from an estate sale a Hollywood Recency style (the substantial brass oriental drawer pulls are probably worth what I pay for the entire four drawer chest) for $100 which I later learn is worth nearer $1200. Whatever, I love the way it looks and its utility seems endless.

At the same sale (online) I notice this picture and think about it for awhile. Do I need it? Not really, but I’ve a place for it and do love English gardens and their likenesses. So, maybe. Careful with money and always with what I acquire for my home, however and from wherever – I’m really taken with it, it’s only ten dollars so I go for it.

A friend picks these up and delivers them. The picture arrives with two small white notes taped to the glass. One reads, ‘signed by artist Jim Gray,’ and the other ‘limited edition lithograph.’ Interesting. I walk past my new treasure for weeks before determining I should tape this information to the back of the frame. Framed in Oklahoma, I buy it in Illinois?

Prior to achieving the switch I look up the artist. He is apparently very well known and appreciated in the area of Gaitlinburg, Tennessee where he has a gallery. Herein I learn there are 1500 copies of my (number 1204) lithograph, named ‘Summertime,’ and sells for $300 plus $20 shipping (prior to framing). Jim Gray sells more than 2,000 paintings and 125,000 prints to collectors in the United States and abroad during his career. Does that make me an art collector? How fun. How surprising. This isn’t the especially exciting part though.

The artist has an interesting biography, two pages printed which I also attach to the back of the frame. In 1968 a writer from National Geographic visits the area to write about the Great Smoky Mountains National Park and happens to stop by Jim’s gallery asking about his artwork and where he paints. Jim’s enthusiasm inspires the writer to include Jim in his article which leads to national coverage in other magazines. A more historical event will emerge from this chance meeting.

World famous astronomer Carl Sagan, in charge during the early 1970’s of NASA’s project of recording the sights and sounds of earth includes into each of two gold coated recording disks affixed to the sides of space probes, Voyager I and II contain 118 photographs of our planet, our civilization and ourselves; one in each is of Jim painting in his home/studio. These probes are now in deep space far beyond our solar system and will continue to fly, perhaps forever.

So, to my mind, truly a treasure. Even if it isn’t exactly an English garden.

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Muses and Musing

Funeral for A Fantasy

by judithmcconnell
written by judithmcconnell

If ever you feel yourself being taken in by the charm of one of the opposite sex you probably are. It’s okay not all such situations end sadly.

If, however, that person tells you that you are his (in this instance) fantasy run, do not walk, to the nearest exit – stop answering your phone if need be – because wherever else and with whomever you are certain to be far more safe.

Here’s why: While initially you may feel flattered to be thought of in so romantic a fashion consider that a fantasy isn’t real, so isn’t romantic at all; it’s a convenience and not yours. There is absolutely no percentage in being a fantasy.

Additionally, soon his being your fantasy will materialize and when the delusion becomes so severe a distraction it must end, as it must, however will you end it? We’ve customs for ending marriages (divorce), arguments (reason – or not), and lives (death).

Actually dying to escape it a bit drastic but wanting to stop being a fantasy is not. Still, for you to survive, the situation must not. Apparently nowhere is there a listing or resource of procedures for accomplishing this intriguing and incomprehensible challenge.

Remember that film star Marilyn Monroe was the fantasy of millions of men. She was mostly alone and sad. And dead at 36.

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Muses and Musing

Voting 2020

by judithmcconnell
written by judithmcconnell

Were there a referendum on the ballot reading: Let’s end this year right now! bet everyone will vote Yes. Though referendum writers generally haven’t a sense of humor and voting isn’t a joke.

One election year the Illinois incumbent governor is reelected by just one vote per precinct. Seriously. Can you even believe it? That might have been your vote – or not.

The first election at which I am eligible to vote I awake, without an alarm – unheard of – and am first in line at the polling place. Exciting is an understatement. Some of us are like that. My candidate doesn’t win but still a thrill feeling involved.

So, years later when my son and daughter are of voting age and somewhat less enthusiastic we have a ‘talk.’ Albeit surely they learn this in school, taking no chances I explain, “Voting is a right and a responsibility.” Are they listening? Hearing what I’m saying?

Might be time to paint a picture with words. Make an impact. Appeal to feelings. And, to judgement. “Think about young people, younger than you, who enlist in the military to fight in far away lands to protect America, our freedoms and liberty. To protect us. Sadly, some never come home. Never again to spend Thanksgiving with their families, how very much their families miss them and always will.” The children are paying better attention now.

“These young Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen and Marines are brave beyond belief. They dodge bullets while crawling through mud, watchfully guard their ships and hope like hell they aren’t torpedoed, have their planes shot from the air with some pilots taken hostage, others going wherever they must however they can to save one another. They surely are scared, lonesome for home. All the while hoping for mail call – maybe to read a letter from their Mother with news about their kid brothers grades and little league or their sisters forthcoming wedding they aren’t able to attend, or to see a photo of their new little baby and wanting, wishing and praying to hold him or her. Imagine, just imagine. We all owe them so, so much.”

“Mom.” It is kind of a ‘Mom please stop’ Mom. I’m getting to them. They are looking a bit concerned, even somewhat sad. “Don’t you think a vote is a very fair exchange?” In unison, “Yes.”

“Great. So you realize why it is so important for you to vote?” Two heads shake up and down. Not as emphatically as at times, but genuinely nonetheless. “When you consider all who have given all makes walking a block, waiting in line for ten or even twenty minutes and casting a vote seems really the right thing to do?”

“Yes. We’ll vote,” they agree. And, they do.

Years and years later they still do.

Every election.

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In Progress

Meet Fetcher

by judithmcconnell
written by judithmcconnell

. . . the star of the children’s book I am finally writing. Finally, because I’ve been thinking about the story for a very long time.

“A children’s book you ask.” Yep. “Not your typical topic.” True.

Seriously, and I tend toward serious, e.g., Truth Behind School Boards. Okay then, two most recent posts delve into returning to school – or not; virtual learning – even teachers do not like it; will learning pods be successful? Will 40% of parents, as polled, maintain some form of homeschooling post virus? There are districts requesting parents to sign agreements that they will not observe their children’s online classes. WHAAAT? Why? No.

So, I have a headache now (not virtual) and need a break from ‘serious.’ Likely, especially if you are a parent or grandparent, you do, too. Hence Fetcher.

Clearly, this puppy is feeling part of the family and at home from day one. The children name him in the hope he’ll fetch their toys. Does he? How else do they play? There will be a fun surprise.

Haven’t a specific timeline yet but imagine I’ll be looking frequently to Fetcher for distraction. Stay tuned.

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Reviews

John and Priscilla

by judithmcconnell
written by judithmcconnell

          Writers read. Oh, you know that. Sometimes we discover a book that is truly a treasure like the one I hold here; a first edition ©1948, Saints and Strangers by George F. Willison.  Actually, I’ve nearly a shelf of coveted first editions from Out of Africa ©1938, The American Presidency, an Interpretation ©1940, Only Yesterday ©1941, the hysterically humorous Our Hearts Were Young and Gay ©1942, Nineteen Eighty-Four ©1949, Crime and Punishment ©1953, Advise and Consent ©1959 and more.

This book though is personal. Here’s why: Most of us know about the Pilgrims’ and their landing at Plymouth Rock, the struggles and our First Thanksgiving. But we really don’t know much. Author Willison takes readers back to England and the Netherlands, writes of the lives there of Mayflower passengers; well researched and so informative. Best known from this voyage are Captain Miles Standish, John Alden, and William Bradford who will become Governor of Massachusetts.

Just hours after I give birth to my son, his paternal great grandfather calls me at the hospital to learn his name and proper spelling. Stephen James. Why? Because this new baby boy must be written at once into the family tree and I learn that his 10th great grandparents are John and Priscilla Alden. They are rather historic.

So, sometimes I ask Steve if it isn’t kind of fun for him? Interesting? Not especially. But, I say, “When you are watching A Charlie Brown
Thanksgiving, or studying the Pilgrims at school don’t you ever think about being a 10th great grandson, albeit one of many, of
John and Priscilla.” He shrugs, “But what did he ever do?” Really. How
about helping to safely ensure the arrival at the new world of this most dangerous voyage? That he signs the Mayflower Compact, an especially consequential document? He works to build their village. He is assistant to Governor
Bradford? “Okay. I guess.” Everyone’s ancestors make history, but most are not as well known, especially in America.

Maybe Stephen James needs to read the book.

 

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Déjà vu

Dearborn Station

by judithmcconnell
written by judithmcconnell

Nearly every summer a friend and I attend the Printers Row Lit Fest. We take the El which is when the Chicago Transit Authority train is traveling above the city; it becomes the Subway when it takes the same track beneath the city. These frighten me since childhood, especially the Subway and I avoid them always. We both love books though, so we go.

We walk along Dearborn Street checking this booth and the other, she in search of any first edition Jane Austen and I looking for no book in particular; often buying something inviting or perhaps one by a presenter, having it autographed. We stop for lunch and continue our quest. Books abound. Writers read.

We head into a building which seems far too large for the offices and retail shops within. “I’ve been here before,” I tell Christine. This sense grows stronger as I wonder when and why. I just know - for certain. As we exit, I look up at the red brick structure and read ‘Dearborn Station’ near the top yet far below the tall clock tower. It could be a train station and I take trains so many times as a small child, but there are neither trains nor tracks here.

Now, years later. I read a book about trains and learn that the Santa Fe El Capitan, Chief and Super Chief travel from Chicago’s Dearborn Station to Los Angeles from the 1930’s for 30 plus years until the station is no longer in service. Where once tracks carrying trains that take me to and back from LA a small charming Dearborn Park with its pathways and trees stands amidst the ‘Dearborn Park’ area of newer townhouses, mid and high rises.

Reading is a good thing; so much to learn and understand.

 

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Interior Design

Design Decision

by judithmcconnell
written by judithmcconnell

     To my mind a room should feel collected, not decorated. It is how I shop for my home, albeit many of my furnishings are inherited while others I locate at estate sales or even garage sales sometimes, e.g., a pair of brass and hand painted gardenias and dark green leaves upon ceramic three way switch lamps with shades for five dollars. These are quality, provide light on either side of my bed, atop nonmatching tables and go well with my pale sage toile tea stained duvet cover — a gift from a friend nearly 20 years ago. Egyptian cotton is simply the best and clearly long wearing. 

So, more currently I am in search of a four drawer chest of a certain size for my office and am taken by a photo (online estate sale) of an ebony Asian design with beyond beautiful and interesting drawer pulls of solid brass, plus a pull out shelf. Perfect, I call and they ask $175 — I offer $100 and they agree. A friend offers to pick it up and deliver it to me. From the moment it arrives I am in love with this piece. Placed next to my computer I need reach mere inches to pull the drawers which literally glide open and into which I keep a myriad of supplies easily accessible, yet out of sight.

My friend delighted too with my find, and I agree that the substantial brass handles alone are probably worth $100. Weeks later I am browsing the One Kings Lane website to see for sale within their antique section the exact same chest — two of them — for $1247.50 each. Do you even believe it? Famed designer Albert Hadley once said, “Nothing comes cheap, though the educated eye will always spot nice things for the least money.” Maybe it’s true?

CLICK IMAGE BELOW TO VIEW FULL SCREEN

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Muses and Musing

Springtime

by judithmcconnell
written by judithmcconnell

     Remember that April day you carry your jacket home from school and ask and are permitted to wear a sweater instead to play outdoors, maybe at the park, or baseball in the street, or riding your bike to wherever?

The rain seems warm, the breeze a delight and the days lighter longer toward night. Despite our being likely to play outdoors throughout wintertime, snow is fun for a while, spring means spring, carefree and fun.

Now whatever age, how different is this springtime. Wash our hands; okay they, we know that. Stay inside we are warned. Unless you’ve a yard, or balcony, or wear a cotton mask and stay six feet from anyone you might meet along the street. As sadness settles over this time, listen for gently falling rain, birds singing too; look still for flowers to blossom, green carpets of grass to appear and a future surely brighter than today — this special springtime season.

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