Thursday, September 27, 2012

Oak Park

I have an affection for old cemeteries.  I have an affection for one old cemetery in particular.

When I was a child summer officially arrived when the enormous iron urn came out of storage, was filled with red geraniums, and transferred to the graves of my grandparents.  This ritual occurred, unfailingly on Memorial Day weekend and was followed by weekly trips to the cemetery to keep an eye on the health and well being of the plantings.  I loved those weekly excursions.  I loved walking among the old grave stones with my Dad, reading the names on headstones, and searching in earnest  for the oldest grave.  I was never frightened or wary.  Perhaps it was my small hand in his that provided  comfort and assurance.   All these years later, when I drive through the gates of Oak Park Cemetery, the warm feelings return.

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Oak Park is a beautiful place, the grounds dotted with granite mausoleums and grave stones of varying sizes and shapes.  Unfortunately time has taken a toll and most of the old buildings have fallen into a state of disrepair.  I imagine that when this cemetery was established in the early 1900s no one could fathom the high cost of perpetual care moving into the next century.

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To my eyes it is still beautiful.  The aging ivy covered buildings shaded by century old oaks adds to its  charm and the mystery.

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Earlier in the week I spent a morning wandering the grounds.

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I was drawn to the ivy,

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fascinated by the granite,

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intrigued by the cold hard edges of death against the warmth and softness of life.

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I was curious about William Devlin.  He must have been a wealthy man to afford to spend eternity in such grandeur.

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Eventually I found my way to the veterans area.  Row after row of simple grave markers and American flags.  Most were veterans of the "great war."  Some made the ultimate sacrifice while others returned from battle to live long lives, yet in death chose to rest among the warriors.

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A visit to Oak Park these days means a visit with my Dad.  We talked of old times and current events.

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I left assured that all is well and hope that one day we will again walk among the old grave stones together, my small hand in his.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Patina

Patina:  An acquired change of a surface through age and exposure.

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I'm not growing old.  I'm acquiring a "patina."




Sunday, September 23, 2012

The Herd

I have passed this herd of alpaca almost daily for two years.  Finally I stopped to take a closer look.

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My mother has deduced, based on her vast alpaca knowledge and a few dozen drive-bys, that the herd is never out on sunny days due to the fact that alpaca sun burn easily.  I can't speak to the truth of that statement I can only speculate.

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Our Florida neighbor questioned the number of alpaca that make up this little herd.  The Kid estimated 50, which Dale thought was absurd based on his vast alpaca knowledge, after all he stated, alpaca are costly to own.  I can't speak to the truth of that statement either.  But on the day I visited I estimated roughly 100 animals scattered between several pastures.

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I read that "Alpaca fleece is the natural fiber harvested from an alpaca.  While similar to sheep's wool, alpaca is lighter yet much warmer and not itchy against the skin."  I can't speak to the truth of that statement either.  Although I did read it on the internet so it must be true.

You might be wondering, what do I know about alpaca?

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They sure are cute.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Houston We Have a Problem

This morning I was going to write and tell you how we are comfy and cozy in our tiny cocoon.  So much so that we had begun referring to each other as the Ingalls of Little House on the Prairie fame.  With the dismantling of the sunporch we lost our bedroom...again, and have been forced to retreat into our, appropriately named, living room.  The bed is nestled in one corner next to the fire place, the couch and chairs neatly arranged and our trusty little electric heater stands at the ready on the other side of the room.

That image changed dramatically at 2 a.m. this morning.  You can imagine my surprise when sticking one foot out of my warm bed I stepped into a puddle.  In my foggy state I couldn't figure out what was wrong; and then I heard it, the pitter patter of rain on the roof and the drip, drip, drip of water hitting the floor.  My initial thought was that the large old window I am insisting on salvaging was leaking.  I was half right.  Water was dripping between the plywood cover on the outside and finding its way inside through the worn seals onto the newly installed hardwood floors inside!  The Kid and I sprang to action attempting to stem the flow and soon realized we had bigger issues. Water was also seeping between the seams of the ceiling tiles along the entire length of the cottage as well as through the heat vents.  Houston we have a problem.

Needless to say we didn't get a lot of sleep last night.  Pots and pans are sitting amid the towels on the floor in an attempt to catch the largest leaks. The cozy Ingalls cottage now resembles the one vacated by the Beverly Hillbillys. It appears the Clampetts have arrived.

You can call me Ellie Mae.

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(Picture totally unrelated.  Just can't post without a photo.)

Friday, September 21, 2012

Last Blossoms of Summer

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I am grateful for the warmth of the sun on a cool fall afternoon.  And for the last blossoms of summer that stand tall among the falling leaves as if in protest of what lies ahead.


Thursday, September 20, 2012

An Offer We Couldn't Refuse

"What if I make you an offer you can't refuse?"  The words were spoken as if from the mouth of Vito Corleone himself and as quick as that our renovation project was expanded.

This additional phase has always been a part of the plan but was moved to "sometime in the future" after an initial attempt to bid the job two years ago caused serious financial heartburn.  We took a giant step back, prioritized our needs and broke the project up into a series of phases before going back out to bid this summer.


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The change of plans set construction back a week while paper work was finalized and the building permit updated. Yesterday it began again in earnest.  The demo crew arrived at 7:30 a.m. and the sun porch began to disappear.

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The added phase will expand our tiny kitchen to adequate and provide a small dining area on the lake side of the cottage.  A small addition that packs a punch and will serve us well.

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As the day wore on and the room vanished I was once again struck by the nostalgia bug.  My eyes grew teary as I remembered the first time we walked this property and peeked in the windows.  The little porch with its wonderful old crank out windows was my favorite part of the cottage and trust me when I tell you I spent many hours on that porch and watched many a sunset in the past two years.

And lets not even talk about the grief our three children have given us over those old windows.

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But it is time to move on.  We've done our research and hope to put things back in a way that will be reminiscent of what once was yet more air tight and efficient.

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For now Little Red stands as she did 62 years ago before the garage and the porch were added.  A tiny, one room cottage with a lot of promise.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Saturated Color

The morning was cold and deary but a short reprieve from the rain found me wandering the neighborhood in search of a photo op.  I discovered it in the aptly named Burning Bushes that began changing color in mid August and are now ablaze in a coat of red.

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Photographing fall foliage on an overcast day after a good soaking tends to brings color to life. Greens and reds are super saturated with no assistance needed from Photoshop.

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It was all true on this morning just as I had hoped.

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I love it when a plan comes together.

Monday, September 17, 2012

Destiny Calls

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My thumb is not green, don't even bother to check.  I water, weed, fertilize, & tend; and often, in spite of my best effort, the things I plant fail to thrive.

And yet in the natural world, left to their own devices seeds take root in unlikely places.  Flowers bloom where they are planted.  Seeds germinate and sprout between rocks.  Roots are sent deep to draw water and nutrients from hidden sources.  Seedlings grow into little plants that hang on tightly to their place in the world.  And then they blossom, fulfilling their destiny in spite of the odds.

We should take notes.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Everything is Beautiful

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Everything is beautiful in the light of a new day.

The above is entry number 260 in my 365 project, which means that January 1 is a mere 106 days away.  For those of you who think my math is wonky, 2012 is a leap year.  Leave it to me to commit to a 365 project in a year that contains an additional day.

If you haven't visited in awhile, you can do so my clicking here.

Enjoy the remainder of your weekend.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

I'm Not Ready Yet

Fall is cunning.  Creeping around the oaks and maples, ducking out of site when I dared to notice the rustle of a falling leaf or its cool breath tickling the back of my neck.  And now it is here, out of hiding and with a booted foot planted firmly inside the door.

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The signs are there.  The view outside my window is now tinged with soft shades of yellow and red.  Three nights in a row of temperatures dipping into the high 40s and pumpkins stacked high at the local farmer's market all proclaim its arrival.  And let us not even talk about football!

I'm not ready for fall yet.  There is still too much summer left to live.  But since it's here in spite of my best effort to ignore I will dig out the sweatshirts buried beneath shorts and t-shirts, build a fire and enjoy the show.

After all fall is my favorite season.


Tuesday, September 11, 2012

The Edge of Darkness

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Standing at the edge of darkness watching daylight take its final curtain call is both exhilarating and intimidating.  As the light fades and the evening chorus of cicadas and other night creatures begin I retreat to the safety of my four walls.  The blackness of the night clouds my vision and makes me unsure of my steps.  Doubt seeps in and settles in the cracks and crevices of my mind.

And yet I know that tomorrow the sun will once again rise for an encore performance.  Doubt will be cast aside by the light of a new day and vision restored .

The anxiety of it all could be avoided if only I would learn to sleep with a night light.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Construction, Day 1

It began on Thursday, no, that's not true, it began on Wednesday with the arrival of the electrician whose sole job was to transfer power to the temporary pole which had been unceremoniously planted in our back yard the previous week .  It (the pole) is reminiscent of Charlie Brown's Christmas tree stripped of both branches and needles and sits companionably next to the over sized green dumpster.  The pair make quite a statement, of what I don't know.

There was a bit of confusion with the "the big kahuna" (a.k.a. Penn Power) and the permitting process.  Feel free to interpret that as nothing got done that day.  Nothing except chasing us from our cozy little bedroom.  With sheet rock and dust raining down upon us we felt we didn't have much choice in the matter  and moved quickly to vacate the premises.  We spent the remainder of Wednesday moving furniture and setting up a temporary bedroom on the porch.  With three sides of uncovered glass it is  much like having your bedroom in a department store display window.

Demo began in earnest early Thursday morning when the power company and the wrecking crew descended en mass to complete the power transfer and begin dismantling the old garage.

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Excitement that we were finally on our way was mixed with a hint of guilt that we were tearing down a piece of local history.  Little red was the first cottage constructed in the neighborhood and had served its people well.  The wave of nostalgia passed quickly as I reminded myself the garage had been an afterthought and a poorly constructed one at that.  It was time for it to go.

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Our very young wrecking crew worked hard throughout the day taking the old garage apart piece by piece.

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At some point Binko (don't ask, as long as the work gets done I find it's not necessary to know the details) arrived with a bucket truck and wood chipper and began ridding the yard of the remains of the felled Maple.  With the assitance of The Kid and one our helpful neigbors work progressed quickly.

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During the course of the afternoon the garage vanished along with the Maple.

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Before we knew it the landscape at the cottage had changed forever.

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Now on with the show.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Order

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Angles, lines and shapes, when carefully arranged, bring order to chaos.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Coming Over To The Dark Side

I fought it.  Yes I did.  Fought it with every bit of camera snobbery I could muster.   And yet I have to admit that when the time came I didn't go kicking and screaming.  Didn't dig in my heals and stick out my chin in a fit of stubborn refusal.  And now it's done.  I have an iphone.  An iphone with a camera and aps and Instagram.  I'm not addicted.  At least not yet.  But I've tasted the Kool Aide and ordered a refill.

In my defense, I have been wanting a small point and shoot to carry in my purse.  It isn't always convenient to drag around the big girl camera.  The size of it coupled with two or three pounds of lens protruding from its body is intimidating to some.  Okay, to most.  Quite often it gets left behind and opportunities are missed.  The iphone seems to be the right man for the job.

It's going to take some getting used but I'm starting to get the hang of it.  I sit at traffic lights and railroad crossings snapping away, McDonald's drive-thru (diet coke fix) and railroad crossings.  Nothing is sacred and there is no chasing of perfection required.  It is but another tool in the arsenal, another way to capture a slice of life.

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And perhaps it will keep me from getting evicted from Lowes.




Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Dusk Settles

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Dusk settles as the remains of the day adorns its subjects in priceless rubies. On this night the bounty is free for the taking.

Monday, September 3, 2012

The Tree

For decades it stood, tall and strong. A guardian.  A protector.  Shading the cottage from the harsh mid-day sun.  Providing a respite for birds and squirrels in the warm months and a break front from snow drifts and winter winds in the cold.  During the in between there were colorful displays of bright yellows and greens.

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I hated to see it go.

There really was no other choice.  It had succumbed to some unknown illness.  It's trunk rotting away before eyes.  The experts said it was only a matter of time.  The once sturdy trunk would no longer be able to support the spreading canopy and it would one day topple in the midst of a howling wind.

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It took mere minutes.  The crew of two used tie lines and a chain saw to precisely drop it where it would cause no harm.  The once tall and mighty tree was felled.

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Left in its stead is vulnerability and exposure.  An emptiness.  And yet the sun streams through our bedroom window lighting up the little room as never before.  A sign of hope?  Of promise for brighter days ahead?

I know that over time I will grow accustomed to the change.  The emptiness will slowly dissipate.  A new tree will be planted to take it's place.  It too will grow tall and strong and protective.

It is the way of things.