July 28, 2014
In the summer of 1955, shortly after we moved into yet another small house in yet another small Midwestern town, Alice opened the front door to a young woman holding a baby and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. My sister Marla, four years old, sat on the living room floor where she and Alice had been rolling a large ball back and forth between them. Excited by visitors, Marla tossed her ball in their direction, bonking the baby and sending the cookies and plate flying.
July 6, 2014
Alice spent nearly an hour looking at a shawl that Sonia, the housekeeper, had removed from a chair in her bedroom and spread out over the back of the sofa. After Sonia left, she could not think of what this object was called.
June 27, 2014
When my friend Esther Podemski and I approached the house of the 97-year-old artist we were going to visit, we didn’t dream the large woodpile in the front yard had been stacked by the artist herself.
June 23, 2014
A few days ago, Alice witnessed goings-on of operatic proportions in the dining room at The Place.
June 14, 2014
A day or two after my father died, I had to look in his wallet for his social security card and other information. It was a well-worn, brown leather billfold he’d carried for many years. Inside, I came across something I’d never seen before, something he’d obviously been transferring from one wallet to the next for most of his life. Read the rest of this entry »
May 29, 2014
Alice’s first stolen rose of the season had two centers.
Have you ever seen anything like that? A good omen, I’d say.
May 28, 2014
Portland artist Eunice Parsons will be 98 in August. She’s a year younger than Alice.
I bet she’s still getting down on the floor and cutting things up for her collage work.
In this video from OPB, which unfortunately does not want to let me embed it into my blog post, she talks about her work and you can see her in action:
Bonnie Hull writes a blog that features Eunice.
Of course you can google Eunice Parsons and find out all about her long career and see lots of her work. I highly recommend watching the video first.
Many thanks to my friend, Brigitte Dortmund, another Portland artist, for reminding me about Eunice today.
Enjoy. Be inspired. Let go. It’s spring.
Where the hell is my cat?
A new Alice post is coming really soon.
May 12, 2014
“My arms look so goofy these days,” Alice said after we’d greeted one another on Mother’s Day. I put down the pink roses I was carrying and got out the scissors and a vase. She wheeled her walker over so she could stand close to me at the kitchen counter and watch. I never know what she might be thinking about when I arrive. Today it was arms. Read the rest of this entry »
May 10, 2014
Many thanks to blog reader Heide Hendrick for this lovely short film by Gemma Green-Hope about her grandmother.
Here is what the film maker has to say:
My grandmother Elizabeth (or Gan-Gan as I called her) was a force of nature; she was wonderful. As a child she seemed to me like a visitor from another time or place. Her tiny terraced house in Bideford was full of treasures; hundreds of books, a medusa’s head, Peter the Great’s ivory letter opener, the caul of her mother tied up in blue ribbon, a tile stolen from the Alhambra, a silk blouse embroidered by nuns, deadly poison, beautiful Pre-Raphaelite artworks, a knife carved from the wood of HMS Victory, Granny Green’s pince-nez, and diaries full of stories from a hard life well-lived.
After her death in 2010, I helped my father and uncle sort through some of her possessions. I inherited some of her clothes to wear, books to read, a bicycle to ride. But how do you make sense of all the other things that someone leaves behind, the things nobody sees, boxes full of photographs, and bits of string?
I used these objects alongside images and memories of my own to make this short animation, which I dedicate to her memory.
Music by George Manson – georgemanson.com
Elizabeth Boat made by Rachel Sumner – rachelsumner.org
Excerpts taken from ‘The Fairies’ by William Allingham and ‘Eternal Father, Strong to Save’ (The Naval Hymn) by William Whiting.
With many thanks to the Carningli Centre in Newport, Pembrokeshire.
I apologize for my absence these past ten days or so. Other projects took over for a while. More to come on the Alice front soon.
Whatever “mothering” means to you, I hope you get a chance to celebrate it today and also that you are celebrated for the nurturing you bring to this world. Certainly you bring plenty to me, and I’m grateful for it.
April 28, 2014
Despite the fact that she had a tiff with Nadine and the weather has been mostly wet, Alice’s life lit up this past week.
April 21, 2014
Part cowboy (note the hat), part Fancy Dan (the purple pocket-handkerchief), this is Alice’s first creation made with her new clay.
April 20, 2014
Rise and fly, everybody.
“Stephen Turner’s Exbury Egg is addressing the meaning of place at a time of great environmental change. In the guise of The Beaulieu Beadle, he will work on, in and around the Egg for twelve months from July 15th 2013 – July 14th 2014.”
Thank you, Dee Packard for this link to Stephen Turner’s blog.
April 15, 2014
April 6, 2014
When I arrived shortly after the ambulance delivered Alice to ER, a doctor stood at her bedside. She was able to answer several of his questions about her symptoms—rapid heartbeat and palpitations, dizziness, weakness, nausea, sky-high blood pressure, clamminess, rushes of heat throughout her body, disorientation, shakiness and more—but when he asked which part of all that had been happening on this day was the worst, she answered, “The ride over here in that wagon.”
April 3, 2014
Recently I had a dream about going behind enemy lines to retrieve something for Alice. It may have been her hearing, her sight, her ability to fix anything and everything under the sun in this or any other solar system, her lush black hair, her agility—something. Whatever it was, I managed to find it and bring it back to her.
March 19, 2014
Last night Alice called to say she’s discovered the answer to dusty mirrors and oh, so much more.
Read the rest of this entry »
March 14, 2014
“One day,” Alice said, “Mama sent me over to Mrs. Altman’s to borrow something. Mrs. Altman wasn’t there, but there was something cooking on the stove.”
Read the rest of this entry »
March 8, 2014
Yesterday afternoon when I came to visit Alice, I found her sound asleep in her La-Z-Boy.
The heat in the room felt absolutely tropical. The blinds were closed, but sunlight came shining through anyway, so bright it made stars dance beneath my eyelids when I sat down on the sofa and shut my eyes.
February 26, 2014
Sorry there haven’t been any posts for a while. I haven’t been feeling well. (Please don’t ask what it is because I’m afraid if I name it I’ll have to keep it.) I’m a bit better now and wanted to send out a quick bulletin regarding the recent discovery that Hugh Hefner is hiding out at The Place. If you don’t read the Comments sections of the posts, you may have missed that an actual Playboy bunny left a message.
February 15, 2014
Since Alice is no longer able to read for any extended period of time, she sits and thinks a lot. She often finds herself curious about whatever happened to various movie stars and other celebrities. She’s amazed that as soon as she thinks of someone she hasn’t seen in a while, they then appear in the news or on a TV program. She’s beginning to believe she’s psychic. (For details, see the last post, Where’s Hugh?).
Meg’s here for a few days, and we decided to fuel this belief Alice has in her own psychic abilities by finding Hugh Hefner in the form of a newspaper clipping, conveniently written in large print.
We headed over to Alice’s.
February 11, 2014
Alice called me early this morning. I was barely awake. “Where’s Hugh Hefner?” she wanted to know.
I mumbled sleepily into the phone. “I don’t know.”
Mumbling was a mistake. “Don’t talk so soft,” she said, and repeated the question. “Where’s Hugh Hefner?”
February 9, 2014
In Norwegian, the word “mormor” means grandmother. The stereotype is of an acquiescent Scandinavian female who enjoys quiet passivity, who gives advice to the children and grandchildren gently, and takes her place in the back seat of life without question.
However, a new project called The Mormor Monologues has set out to “challenge the idea and cultural construction of the old woman.” Read the rest of this entry »
February 4, 2014
January 27, 2014
At 94, Canadian Olga Kitelko holds twenty-seven world records for track and field in the 90-95 year old category. She started running at the age of 77.
I watched this video and was impressed by Olga’s straightforward way of talking about herself. She’s without pretense, a realist, and an athlete with boldness and vision.
A new book about Olga has just come out, What Makes Olga Run? Her publisher said he’d send me a review copy. If he comes through, I’ll let you know what I think.
Okay, now I’m going for a walk. A fast one.
January 23, 2014
A new man recently arrived at The Place and has taken a fancy to Alice. She’s not sure how she feels about him.
January 21, 2014
Aleah Chapin, a young artist in her twenties, has embarked on a painting project that focuses on a group of women who have been her mother’s friends for the past thirty to forty years. These women she calls “The Aunties” agreed to pose nude for the portraits, and the results are, in my opinion, beautiful and touching. Read the rest of this entry »
January 13, 2014
A few nights ago Alice called and went over her list for the day —what she ate, the contents of her mailbox, when and where she spotted Mr. Fickle, what aides came by her apartment or failed to appear when they should have appeared.
Finally she came to a question she’d been mulling over all day. “Where does weight go when you lose it?”
January 9, 2014
January 8, 2014
If you have been lounging around for the past few weeks eating bonbons with the customary holiday sense of impunity (i.e., being near twinkling lights = no consequences to your actions), you might sober up a little when your 98 year-old mother tells you that, because she’s allowing herself one chocolate from a box of Seroogy’s per day, she has added ten more sit-ups to her daily workout routine.
December 28, 2013
On Christmas morning I packed up Alice’s Christmas loot and took it to The Place.
December 27, 2013
On our way to the eye doctor last week, a toe-freezing day, I noticed that Alice had squeezed herself into the far corner of the passenger seat and was pressed against the door.
December 13, 2013
I was looking for a whippet mix. The reason for that particular yearning was my absolutely crazy love for a dog of my long-ago life, Carson:
November 18, 2013
Brio is very sick. She’s only five years old, but she is dying of chronic kidney disease. Some days are better than others, though there are few really good ones any more. When the scales tip a bit more, which will probably be soon, she will be given a humane exit.
Right now she still guards the house, still thinks nothing is as fascinating as new traces of dog pee on the grasses alongside the trail since her last visit to the island across the river (though her journeys there are shorter and shorter), still likes turkey and chicken (but not so much today; no food pleases her today), and she continues to believe that giving her a full body massage is the best possible way for me to spend my time.
She enjoys greeting friends. She sleeps a lot. Really a lot. She forgets to drink water so I give her subcutaneous fluids to flush out her kidneys.
My apologies for letting the blog posts slip. Alice worries all the time about Brio, but she continues to have adventures and I really want to write them. I’ve just been so preoccupied. Thank you for your patience.
More information on chronic canine renal failure here, if you’re interested.
November 4, 2013
Yesterday, at the request of my old friend, Mark Alter, I gave a talk about Alice and me at Wy’east, a Unitarian congregation that meets in northeast Portland.
Later in the day, at a poetry reading, two regular Alice followers (thank you, Nikki and Jerene) suggested it might be a good idea to share a copy of that talk on this blog because the piece provides some context for my lifelong relationship with Alice. By going back into our history, it answers questions even regular readers may have. I hope this piece of writing will provide some perspective on our relationship today. I decided to do it as an “About” page.
If interested, you can find “A Busy Child is a Happy Child” here, or click “About My Relationship with Alice” on the right hand navigation bar any time.
Thanks, as always, for your interest in Alice, and thank you Wy’east congregants for your warm reception yesterday.
October 14, 2013
“Well, now they’ve gone and put a farmer between me and the elevator,” Alice called to tell me yesterday.
She tried briefly to explain how this happened but grew frustrated when I couldn’t quite get the picture. I decided to take a trip over to The Place to have a look.
October 9, 2013
Alice so loveth her wig that she is willing to give up her quite expensively begotten hearing aids because she cannot wear them and the wig at the same time.
And so ensues a struggle with her daughter, who succeedeth not in understanding how anyone, and in particular her own mother, could feel this way.
Read the rest of this entry »
October 7, 2013
We seem to be having a spell of scads of medical visits (Alice’s and mine), Comcast troubles involving many 800 # calls and much time on hold listening to terrible music (me on behalf of Alice’s new wireless service and so-called phone service), a root canal (mine), unwell doggie (mine) who is, happily, crazy in love with her new puppy neighbor, eye troubles (Alice’s), hearing aid/wig problems (Alice’s), houseboat winterizing (mine), messed up catalog orders (Alice’s) requiring even more time on hold, and a whole lot of other things burning up way too much time for not such fun results.
Alice will return to these web pages soon.
In the meantime, here’s a quite funny BBC parody of Downton Abbey for those of us who are addicted. This will either make you more impatient for the new season or ridiculously glad that it’s still a bit of a way off.
September 24, 2013
Behind the story told in this old news clipping lies the attempted murder of my grandmother:
Akron (Iowa) Register (August, 1905):
Next to death, the saddest thing to record is the breaking up of a family. Dr. Mereness, who located here several years ago, closed his office and gave up his practice and left last Thursday. He was a very bright young man and could have had a large practice had he not been addicted to drink.
Read the rest of this entry »
September 18, 2013
Alice has been having a tough week – battles between her wig and her new hearing aids (one of the hearing aids broke, in fact), the perils of dining with Nadine, the death of her sister-in-law back in North Dakota, my sweet Aunt Roberta, who died last week at ninety-seven, and soon the end of Web TV, which is how she sends and receives e-mail to friends and family. Loss, changes, and difficulties. Read the rest of this entry »
September 14, 2013
The other day Alice told me about the Chewers. We were on our way to the eye doctor. Being in motion often brings to her mind characters and events from the distant past, as if we’re moving back toward the little prairie town where she grew up and she’s preparing me for the people we’re about to meet.
But before I introduce you to the Chewers, let me say that it took all I had to get her to go to the eye doctor at all. I thought she was being difficult because of the visit itself. (If you’ve been reading this blog a while, you probably know what I mean; if not, just think about “eye doctor” and the word “injection” and you’ll be all caught up.) But no. This resistance had to do with the wig that has come to dominate our lives.
September 8, 2013
A few days ago Alice urgently declared that the wig must be washed. “I’ve been wearing it every day,” she said. “It’s time. Come over tonight close to my bedtime so that nobody sees me without it.” Read the rest of this entry »
September 6, 2013
When I take Brio to The Place, we often meet people in the Fireside room or the hall who want us to stop so they can say hello and pet her and scratch vigorously along her back or behind her ears. If they haven’t met her before, they want to know my dog’s name, age, and pedigree. They love hearing the story of her rescue while she looks up at them attentively. All true, all true, she might be thinking. Lucky me.