I got turned onto your blog by a former student of yours — Skye Leslie. I just finished reading, and I want more! My sister is in your shoes, taking care of my 92 year old mom, who lives in “The Place” in North Carolina. I smiled and got a little teared up at the same time. Great writing. Poignant stories. Thanks.
I am so touched by your blog, I find it difficult to describe. This “cyberspace stuff” is so wonderful, especially when it allows us to find things about our old classmates.
My mother turned 88 in March, and lives in “A Place” here in Sioux Falls. It has been heartbreaking to watch age-related dementia progress over the six years she has lived there. My daily visits have gone from “where shall we go today?” to helping her eat her supper. I now hold the spoon as she once did for me. I only wish I had recorded all of the stories she was once able to tell. I know you cherish every moment you have together, even though it can seem like a chore. I look forward to reading more. With fond memories of WHS ’62, Bev
Thanks so much for your comment, Beverly. It’s sad to hear your mother has dementia. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about how I am now doing things for my mother that she once did for me. It isn’t always easy, you’re right. But you’re also right that the time is precious. And you’re making stories now, together, every time you see her. They’re stories you can pass on, as valuable and as meaningful as any. All the best to you, Andrea
Tender. That’s the first word I thought of. Funny, no one else used it until near the end of the comments from all your posts. (I read every one.)
And so well-written. Now I know why you’re smiling so much these days. I would be too with having found this golden thread. (Thank you for sharing, as we used to say much less sincerely.)
There is in these great stories much humor of course – the one about the home-made make-up was hilarious – but love as well. If we as a species embraced one another’s humanity this open-heartedly, there wouldn’t be much room for war, would there.
I’m so impressed with your writing, Andrea. This topic could easily be depressing or self-indulgent, but you keep the focus firmly on Alice and the palette bright, with just enough shadow to remind us what is at stake. My favorite so far is the episode about the new walker. So I look forward to the further adventures of Alice at The Place–not through the looking-glass but in the looking-glass, i.e., in a mirror reflecting so many of our lives.
Thank you, Jane. I think Alice tries to keep the palette bright, and I want to stay true to her nature and spirit. But yes, the shadows are always there, too.
So good to know that you and others are finding something here that speaks to you, reflecting as you put it. I so appreciate knowing that.
Kevin and I invented a bio-benign, organic herbicide, I spent a satisfying 3 hours of manual labor spraying the parking lot, was greeted like an old friend by a sweet dog with an Italian name, met you, and was treated to the tales of Alice.
You write very well; with efficiency, clarity, and an ability to engage deep emotional response. I was delighted to find your blog and read your work.
It was fun to meet you, Tom. I hope you and Kevin have hit upon the perfect formula for the troubles in the parking lot. Brio and the other dogs will like your invention a lot better than Round Up, which made them all sick.
Thank you for checking out the blog and for your kind words. I assume Kevin told you about it. He’s a great promoter and a good friend. I’m so glad you two met.
Thank you Andrea. I was so inspired by your comment I found you here. I have marked your blog and will be happy/sad to follow Alice with you.
Caregiving is as hard as anything I have ever done. My hats off to all of you, and to Bill, who really hates being the one who is in need. The great news for me is he takes care of me too! Gin
Thanks for coming by, Gin. I agree that caregiving can be hard, but I also have such a great time with Alice. There are moments that break my heart–such as when she told me last night that she could not hear Garrison Keillor’s reading. It was, she said, “just a bunch of sounds” that she couldn’t distinguish because of her poor hearing and her nearly useless $6000 hearing aids (long story there that I won’t get into). Yet, earlier in the day I’d gone to see her and we laughed almost the whole time I was there. Overall, I have to say that this is the happiest time we’ve spent together in our lives, and I’m so grateful for that.
hi andrea, i LOVE these posts. you are such a wonderful writer. i’m in a terrible mood today for a variety of reasons and you made me laugh and consider the role of my attitude in my mood! thanks for this and pls keep writing! rhoberta said you might like my info on our experience with createspace? if so, just email me and i’ll send it to you.
again, thanks!!!
We met long ago at Wappato Green while walking dogs. (I mentioned my love of Riverhouse and you shied away.) I am enamored again, having rediscovered you by blog thanks to Courtney, for which I am grateful. These stories are especially endearing as my own mother died two years back–and of course, I love Multnomah Channel. You bring these to mind along with your apparent content. As a painter, I feel too inspired to read more than a couple posts at a time, feeling the pilot light of creativity light off my own burner. Thanks for that, too!
Thank you, Ann. I’m sorry to hear about your mother and am pleased these little vignettes about Alice might bring you reminders of her. Maybe we’ll run into one another again one day. I hope so.
My partner read “The Riverhouse Stories” to me when we were still newly dating. I was already fascinated by floating homes, and the unique communities that surround them, and your book captivated me. It is still one of my favorite books…whenever we are in a rut in our relationship, I read aloud about Lazy and Pubah. I just wish you had more books for us to read! I’m very happy to discover your blog, and if we ever bump into each other, I will buy you coffee/tea of your choice, and perhaps coax an autograph from you? Thank you for your words.
This blog is for entertainment purposes only. Content is based primarily on conversations and memories. Images, videos, and poetry that appear on the blog (and that are not the property of its author) belong to their respective owners and are copyrighted by these owners, or they are in the public domain, i.e., free to use. If you own the rights to images, videos, or printed material used on this blog, and if you would rather the images, videos or printed material not be used, please contact me and I'll remove them immediately: andrea@andreacarlisle.com
July 2, 2010 at 11:05 am
Hello Andrea,
I got turned onto your blog by a former student of yours — Skye Leslie. I just finished reading, and I want more! My sister is in your shoes, taking care of my 92 year old mom, who lives in “The Place” in North Carolina. I smiled and got a little teared up at the same time. Great writing. Poignant stories. Thanks.
July 2, 2010 at 11:38 am
Thanks, Alix. I appreciate the encouragement. More coming…And hello to your sister.
July 15, 2010 at 10:08 am
I am so touched by your blog, I find it difficult to describe. This “cyberspace stuff” is so wonderful, especially when it allows us to find things about our old classmates.
My mother turned 88 in March, and lives in “A Place” here in Sioux Falls. It has been heartbreaking to watch age-related dementia progress over the six years she has lived there. My daily visits have gone from “where shall we go today?” to helping her eat her supper. I now hold the spoon as she once did for me. I only wish I had recorded all of the stories she was once able to tell. I know you cherish every moment you have together, even though it can seem like a chore. I look forward to reading more. With fond memories of WHS ’62, Bev
July 15, 2010 at 11:41 am
Thanks so much for your comment, Beverly. It’s sad to hear your mother has dementia. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about how I am now doing things for my mother that she once did for me. It isn’t always easy, you’re right. But you’re also right that the time is precious. And you’re making stories now, together, every time you see her. They’re stories you can pass on, as valuable and as meaningful as any. All the best to you, Andrea
August 12, 2010 at 7:50 am
Tender. That’s the first word I thought of. Funny, no one else used it until near the end of the comments from all your posts. (I read every one.)
And so well-written. Now I know why you’re smiling so much these days. I would be too with having found this golden thread. (Thank you for sharing, as we used to say much less sincerely.)
There is in these great stories much humor of course – the one about the home-made make-up was hilarious – but love as well. If we as a species embraced one another’s humanity this open-heartedly, there wouldn’t be much room for war, would there.
August 30, 2010 at 10:02 am
I’m so impressed with your writing, Andrea. This topic could easily be depressing or self-indulgent, but you keep the focus firmly on Alice and the palette bright, with just enough shadow to remind us what is at stake. My favorite so far is the episode about the new walker. So I look forward to the further adventures of Alice at The Place–not through the looking-glass but in the looking-glass, i.e., in a mirror reflecting so many of our lives.
Jane
August 30, 2010 at 10:31 am
Thank you, Jane. I think Alice tries to keep the palette bright, and I want to stay true to her nature and spirit. But yes, the shadows are always there, too.
So good to know that you and others are finding something here that speaks to you, reflecting as you put it. I so appreciate knowing that.
September 14, 2010 at 10:58 pm
It has been a good day for me:
Kevin and I invented a bio-benign, organic herbicide, I spent a satisfying 3 hours of manual labor spraying the parking lot, was greeted like an old friend by a sweet dog with an Italian name, met you, and was treated to the tales of Alice.
You write very well; with efficiency, clarity, and an ability to engage deep emotional response. I was delighted to find your blog and read your work.
Tom
September 15, 2010 at 9:34 am
It was fun to meet you, Tom. I hope you and Kevin have hit upon the perfect formula for the troubles in the parking lot. Brio and the other dogs will like your invention a lot better than Round Up, which made them all sick.
Thank you for checking out the blog and for your kind words. I assume Kevin told you about it. He’s a great promoter and a good friend. I’m so glad you two met.
December 11, 2010 at 6:12 am
Thank you Andrea. I was so inspired by your comment I found you here. I have marked your blog and will be happy/sad to follow Alice with you.
Caregiving is as hard as anything I have ever done. My hats off to all of you, and to Bill, who really hates being the one who is in need. The great news for me is he takes care of me too! Gin
December 11, 2010 at 9:30 am
Thanks for coming by, Gin. I agree that caregiving can be hard, but I also have such a great time with Alice. There are moments that break my heart–such as when she told me last night that she could not hear Garrison Keillor’s reading. It was, she said, “just a bunch of sounds” that she couldn’t distinguish because of her poor hearing and her nearly useless $6000 hearing aids (long story there that I won’t get into). Yet, earlier in the day I’d gone to see her and we laughed almost the whole time I was there. Overall, I have to say that this is the happiest time we’ve spent together in our lives, and I’m so grateful for that.
October 24, 2011 at 9:30 am
hi andrea, i LOVE these posts. you are such a wonderful writer. i’m in a terrible mood today for a variety of reasons and you made me laugh and consider the role of my attitude in my mood! thanks for this and pls keep writing! rhoberta said you might like my info on our experience with createspace? if so, just email me and i’ll send it to you.
again, thanks!!!
March 14, 2012 at 11:48 am
We met long ago at Wappato Green while walking dogs. (I mentioned my love of Riverhouse and you shied away.) I am enamored again, having rediscovered you by blog thanks to Courtney, for which I am grateful. These stories are especially endearing as my own mother died two years back–and of course, I love Multnomah Channel. You bring these to mind along with your apparent content. As a painter, I feel too inspired to read more than a couple posts at a time, feeling the pilot light of creativity light off my own burner. Thanks for that, too!
March 14, 2012 at 12:24 pm
Thank you, Ann. I’m sorry to hear about your mother and am pleased these little vignettes about Alice might bring you reminders of her. Maybe we’ll run into one another again one day. I hope so.
July 15, 2012 at 6:19 am
My partner read “The Riverhouse Stories” to me when we were still newly dating. I was already fascinated by floating homes, and the unique communities that surround them, and your book captivated me. It is still one of my favorite books…whenever we are in a rut in our relationship, I read aloud about Lazy and Pubah. I just wish you had more books for us to read! I’m very happy to discover your blog, and if we ever bump into each other, I will buy you coffee/tea of your choice, and perhaps coax an autograph from you? Thank you for your words.
July 15, 2012 at 5:05 pm
Thank you so much for your comment, Angela. If you and your partner live in Portland, maybe we will run into each other one day.