Tag Archives: family

holdouts.

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the last holdouts at the grandies’ slumber party at peaches’ (my) cottage.

cousins, cartoons, baby golf, talking dogs, books,

made-up group stories, pizza, mac ‘n cheese, apple juice, suckers,

stuffed animals, laughing, whispers,

sleeping bags, pillows, pj’s, flashlights,

and not much sleep.

“no one looks back on their life and remembers the nights they got plenty of sleep.”

-author unknown

doppelgänger.

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 part of my aussie family

was visiting here in

ann arbor, michigan, usa

from

bunbury, western australia

and 

by chance

 went to a local county beekeepers meeting

with 

some of my family who live here

where he 

came face to face with

his doppleganger.

both with

 yellow shirts

same

glasses 

hair 

beard

eyebrows

smiles

face

age 

mannerisms.

just

crossing paths 

and

finding themselves

in exactly

the same time and place

turned and talked 

and then

went their separate ways once again.

11,208 miles
Distance from Ann Arbor to Bunbury

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dop·pel·gäng·er
ˈdäpəlˌɡaNGər/
noun
an apparition or double of a living person.

credits: p. porter, geomaps.com

special ops.

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such a wild adventure

grandie m’s 9th birthday fun

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special ops teams, nerf guns, fairy bread, burger bar, headbands, sunglasses and laughs

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one powerful team member even offered a great tip

when she warned me:

“never trust a panda with a gun.”

lesson learned. 

‘it’s all fun and games ’till someone loses an eye, then it’s just fun you can’t see.”

-james hetfield

gather here.

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when grandie v and i

have finished building our indoor winter fairy village

 with jewels and feathers and sparkles, a flower vine swing, love tape, and puff ball beds

it is very important to write about it and invite them to move in tonight. 


“when I sound the fairy call, gather here in silent meeting,

chin to knee on the orchard wall, cooled with dew and cherries eating.

merry, merry, take a cherry, mine are sounder, mine are rounder,

mine are sweeter for the eater, when the dews fall, and you’ll be fairies all.”

 -emily dickinson

the odyssey.

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pretzel rod, the albino leopard gecko (pre-odyssey).

 last weekend

i stayed with the grandies

while their mom and dad were out of town

and

for some reason

during the last hour i was there

the two friendly house cats

decided to make a snack out of p-rod.

i had no idea this happened until i got home and got the call:

“the cats somehow got the screen off of the top of his terrarium and ate the gecko!”

imagine how badly i felt

that the murder had happened on my watch.

grandie f had just gotten this young gecko

for his birthday 6 weeks ago and was very sad.

he had replaced pretzel,

the tiny, twisty snake who was let go in the backyard.

the next day i picked him up at school and we planned

to make a memorial stone for pretzel rod to put in the garden.

we talked for a while about love and loss and pets and nature.

imagine my surprise when i got a call late that night that he had been found!

he must have crawled into the boys’ dirty laundry

which was on their bedroom floor

to escape the cats

hid out for 24 hours

 then was scooped up

 unknowingly

 put in the washing machine

with the laundry

where he was washed, rinsed and spun.

what?!

he had survived

a feline attack

a day in smelly boy pants

fear

starvation

and

waterboarding?

he was washed, spun and rinsed

but there he was

sitting on the bottom of the washer

and after all of this, he was alive!

f yelled out over the phone:

“and he’s getting stronger by the minute!”

mom and dad said he looked rough and didn’t know if he’d make it

but he was indeed alive.

my task the next day was to get him some special treats

wax worms

(the big macs of the lizard world)

from the pet store to see if he would eat.

sure enough, he had some dinner

the first he’d eaten in a few days.

hopefully he’s on the mend

and we won’t have to go through a ‘second death’.

he looks a little lighter in color,

has some bite marks from the cats,

and doesn’t move as much

but he is alive and that is amazing.

“it is not the strongest or the most intelligent who will survive but those who can best manage change.”
― leon c. megginson

the village.

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the old mill, a boarding house, the glass lake, the stone bridge,

santa and his team, pine cone evergreens and the christmas tree

at my cottage 2016

once again

i was so excited to put out

 the remaining pieces

of the tiny village that my irish grandfather built

way back in the depression

when had become an american citizen

he was an architect by trade

as was his father

 he built this village by hand to exact scale

using

tiny stones

and

little sticks

and

heavy papers

with

incredible attention to every detail

all built

to share with us at the family christmas

i have very early and very fond mémories

of it placed on a big white board

with penciled in numbers for placement

so that every piece was in its place

beneath our christmas tree

with  lights installed underneath

 each building lit up inside

when it got dark outside

 a train ran around the village

it was covered in sparkly cotton snow

 it was so wonderful

i thought it would come to life at christmastime forever

 then it was lost for a long, long while

 i didn’t see it anymore

until

one day i saw its box out by the curb

waiting to go out with the trash

  during a very bad divorce between my parents

i would recognize its box anywhere

 i was lucky that i rescued it just in time

 only a few buildings and a few accessories remained intact

my siblings and i divided up what was salvageable

now i love to set up my own little section of his village each year

i think of how magical it was to see it all together as a child

i wonder what inspired him to create this wonderful village

i wonder where he got the ideas for each building

 i wonder how many buildings there were once upon a time

one of my buildings has the number 9 written inside in pencil

in my ‘umpa’s’  very neat and precise handwriting

 i wish i knew more of the story of the village

i wish i could ask him

no one remains who knows these answers

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a couple of old photographs of parts of the village that i found in the original box

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“i call architecture frozen music.”

-johann wolfgang von goethe

christmas physics.

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a circle in motion will continue

until someone crashes into a tree or can’t breathe from laughing too hard.

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it is possible for one conga line to travel in two different directions at the same time. 

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“the new physics provides a modern version of ancient spirituality.

in a universe made out of energy, everything is entangled; everything is one.”

-bruce lipton