No songs, no poems, no pictures. Just a Happy Birthday.
Tag: family
The song for the day is Elton John’s Sixty Years On:
Who’ll walk me down to church when I’m sixty years of ageWhen the ragged dog they gave me has been ten years in the graveAnd senorita play guitar, play it just for youMy rosary has broken and my beads have all slipped throughYou’ve hung up your great coat and you’ve laid down your gunYou know the war you fought in wasn’t too much funAnd the future you’re giving me holds nothing for a gunI’ve no wish to be living sixty years onYes I’ll sit with you and talk let your eyes relive againI know my vintage prayers would be very much the sameAnd Magdelena plays the organ, plays it just for youYour choral lamp that burns so low when you are passing throughAnd the future you’re giving me holds nothing for a gunI’ve no wish to be living sixty years on
Happy Birthday, WMW.
Many years ago, I was a bundle of creativity at Christmas. Hand-stamped Christmas wrapping paper, tied up with twine; hand-made cards; hand-crafted gifts. Since becoming a parent, with much less time to devote to such Christmas creations, they have taken a lower priority. Until this year. I had to dig out the hot glue gun to help Katie with something or the other when I came across the beginnings of a project I had started long ago: miniature Christmas trees made of wooden dowels, spools, faux greenery, ribbon, buttons, stars, etc. My early prototypes were still unfinished, but it inspired Edith and I to work with the kids to create these trees as small gifts for teachers, family and friends. We all went to work cutting, painting, gluing, and decorating; the finished products were incredibly beautiful in their simplicity. It was nice to have created these little trees, now with our kids helping out, and hopefully as the kids grow we will be more inspired to again work on these simple yet fun projects.
Katie asked me last week if we had any clay – she wanted to make a Christmas present for her family. Specifically, she wanted to make a snowman, for William. I picked up some air drying clay at the store, and helped her design her snowman. I showed her how to make the head, and the torso, and the little eyes, mouth and buttons, while I made the base and the carrot nose. We put it together and waited for it to dry, so we could paint it today before giving it to William. It is still not completely dry, and will need a couple more days, but will be a wonderful hand-made gift from Katie to her big brother!
Edith came home from the hospital today; her surgery went well, without issue, and now she’s home to rest for the next 8 weeks. I’ll also be working from home for a couple of weeks, to help her out.
For the first time in over 25 years, I called Susan this morning. I left a message, she returned my call c. 11:30, and we spoke for about 45 minutes or so before I had to take care of some issues Kate was having, although I felt that we could have gone on longer… it was almost surreal, in a way.
My heart was beating rapidly, and I was quite literally shaking when I decided to pick up the phone and call her (some things never change) and it took 3 attempts before I took a deep breath and hit the TALK button on the phone to send the call. I listened to her voicemail recording, and left my message, somewhat disappointed but satisfied that I had done what I emailed Susan I would do, and called her.
I was carrying laundry upstairs when the phone rang, and I answered it in our bedroom, and then wandered throughout the house, totally in the zone of this conversation that I’d waited for so long to have. Susan’s voice initially seemed different than I remembered, but eventually I recognized her distinctive lisp. We talked about our lives, our families, our gardens… it was good, pleasant conversation. Susan did thank me for being patient with her, and said that it had taken her a long time to see me as a friend and not a threat; I told her that was all I ever was, and that I have no expectations from her, which I believe is true, but it does make me wonder… I guess I do have an expectation in that Susan will actually help to build this rekindled friendship and really stop hiding from me… we’ll see… patience.
Lastly, Happy Birthday today to Nicole T!
Happy Birthday, to my brother…
OK, I must admit, when I read the sub-headline, my first thought was that my Florida brother-in-law had finally gone off the deep end, especially the part about the pocketknife hidden in his shorts…
Man accused of flinging jellyfish on beachgoers
41-year-old swimmer in Florida charged with disorderly intoxication
AP
Keith Edward Marriott of Madeira Beach, Fla. Marriott allegedly threw jellyfish at people on the beach and pretended to drown.
updated 5:55 p.m. ET, Wed., Sept . 9, 2009
MADEIRA BEACH, Fla. – A 41-year-old man faces charges after witness said he pretended to drown and then allegedly began to throw jellyfish at beachgoers.
According to a sheriff’s office report, Keith Edward Marriott caused “concern for his safety” when he repeatedly submerged himself and floated back to the top of the water and he was also “loud and disruptive.”
He then started throwing the sea creatures.
Marriott was arrested Monday and charged with disorderly intoxication and carrying a concealed weapon. According to the St. Petersburg Times, Marriott was carrying a pocketknife in his shorts.
Jail records indicate that Marriott was being held on $250 bond. A message left after-hours at the public defender’s office was not immediately returned late Tuesday night.
Copyright 2009 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
The view from the deck this past weekend at Long Beach Island; the in-laws have rented a house on 18th Street, in the block on the beach, for the week in Surf City, while my brothers-in-law have rented a house on the beach around the corner from the in-laws. We dropped in on Sunday morning, and spent the night before returning home late on Monday. These photos were taken while relaxing and sipping mojitos, late Sunday afternoon…
The house the in-laws are staying in is one that they’ve rented on many previous summer vacations; I distinctly remember being at the house some 16 years ago back in the early 90’s while the Missus and I were still dating, hanging out her then school-aged brothers and sisters, who are now grown, some married, with multiple kids of their own.
W. and K. both had a great, albeit too short, time. The shore was experiencing the effects of Hurricane Bill, and the surf was pretty rough with a wicked rip-tide, so there wasn’t much swimming going on. W.’s swimming had really progressed this past summer, thanks to his twice-weekly swimming lessons at the Princeton YWCA, but he settled for the chance to try out his new boogie board along the shoreline. W., his Grandfather and I spent a few hours fishing off the bulkhead at Barnegat lighthouse, but again Bill’s effects were too much to allow us even a nibble before we decided to pack it in. Later, he and Grandpa played mini-golf while K. played with her half-dozen or so girl cousins at her Uncles’ house on the beach. On Monday morning, we sipped coffee on the beach as the sun rose over the Atlantic, before we took the kids to see Old Barney, where W. and I climbed up all 217 steps to enjoy the view from the top of the lighthouse. The rest of the family established a compound on the beach, which we joined a little after lunch until late in the afternoon, spending time alternating between reading and collecting shells and starfish in the surf near the jetty.
All in all, it was a nice time, and as much as I’m not truly a beach-person, it was great for the kids to spend time with their cousins at the same beach where my wife spent endless summers with her brothers and sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, and friends. I like the idea of our kids growing up and building some of those same sacred memories of summers with family at LBI, and we’re already looking at renting a place with the rest of the family for next summer’s vacation.
My uncle, and godfather, passed away this past Monday…
February 2, 2009 Joseph P. Walto Sr., 72, of Syracuse, passed away peacefully Monday at his home surrounded by his family. Mr. Walto was a communicant of Holy Family Church. Joseph is survived by his loving wife of 49 years, the former Donna Sofia Walto; three daughters, Rose (David) Campagnone, Chris (Michael) O’Brien, and Niki (Michael) Mahar, all of Syracuse; two sons, Joseph (Lauren) Walto Jr. of Syracuse and Dennis (Donnette) Walto of Ethiopia; six grandchildren. Funeral services will be conducted Friday 9:30 a.m. at PIRRO & SONS FUNERAL HOME and 10:30 a.m. in Holy Family Church where a Mass of Christian Burial will be celebrated. Burial will be private. Calling hours will be held on Thursday from 4 to 7 p.m. at the funeral home, 1500 park Street. In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made to Hospice of CNY, 990 Seventh North Street, Liverpool, NY, 13088 or Holy Family Church Food Pantry, 119 Chapel Drive, Syracuse, NY 13219. Dignity Memorial
Published in the Syracuse Post Standard on 2/4/2009
When I was growing up, I always thought of Uncle Joe as the “cool” uncle: he was the youngest of my father’s brothers, he played the drums, and listened to The Rolling Stones… he lived up in Syracuse, and on a few occasions our family would take a long ride up to visit with him and my cousins. I remember a trip in the Summer of 1967, when my brother bought the latest release from the Beatles, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, another trip in the Fall of 1975 when Uncle Joe asked me who I thought would win the World Series that year, the Reds or the Red Sox, and my last trip in the Summer of 1977 after my freshman year in high school. We hadn’t really stayed close, but I continued to send him a Christmas card each year. Apparently, around this past Thanksgiving, a lump was found…
Despite the fact that we were not terribly close for quite some time, I will miss him.
From The Writer’s Almanac:
It’s the birthday of Richard Scarry, born in Boston (1919). He’s the author of more than 300 books for children, who said that what made him happiest as an author was getting letters from people telling him that their copies of his books were all worn out and held together with Scotch tape.
One of my favorite books I received as a child is the one I received from my Uncle Joe and Aunt Donna in 1970, Richard Scarry’s Best Sorybook Ever! Today, I continue to read it to my children (or W. reads the stories about Pierre Bear and Coucous the Detective by himself!) as worn out and held together with Scotch tape as it is.
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