Rosie, Gramm and Me

For as far back as I can remember first hearing of "Rosie the Riveter" I was fascinated by her. That feisty look in her eye. The bold stance and that "can-do-attitude" of hers intrigued me.

The American icon for women in the workplace, and eventually the femininst movement, Rosie has a special meaning to those who happen to have their very own "Rosie the Riveter" in the family. Rosies were the women who did a man's job while the men were off to war during WWII. Across the country, factories turned out munitions thanks to the tireless efforts of American women in the workforce.

Despite my fascination with "Rosie" it never dawned on me that I grew up in the midst of one such Rosie. Not more than a few years ago, I was telling my mother about some kitchen linens that I had purchased in the Rosie the Riveter theme. Upon hearing this, Mom announced "Your Gramm was one of the Rosies, you know."

"No Mom, I didn't know." Gramm was a very private woman in that respect. For all the years that I was growing up and visiting my beloved Gramm, I only knew her to be a homemaker - a very good one at that. I had no idea she ever worked outside the home and I certainly had no clue that she had helped in the war efforts by doing night work at the Army Depot that was at the far end of my childhood town.

I credit Gramm with much of what I know about homemaking, practically all I know about cooking and baking, and every last bit of what I know about being a good grandmother to my own grands. She was a wonderful Gramm - I loved spending time with her. My playtime was actually love time and learning time - I just didn't know it while it was happening.

I am not much like my mother but I am a lot like her mother - my Gramm. From my love of cooking and baking, to my enjoyment of African Violets on the kitchen window sill and especially in my passion for being a grandma the kids will love to spend time with as they grow older, I am my Gramm.

Now that I know of her work as a Rosie the Riveter, I see that she and I share yet one more trait. That "can-do-attitude" of Rosie's. It was Gramm's attitude too. She was a simple woman who loved the simple joys in life and knew deep within her being how to make the most of life no matter what hand she was dealt.

The Rosie trait skipped a generation. My mom doesn't possess it... or at least I am not aware of it. She is not the "can-do-gal" that I am. And obviously she is not the can-do-gal that Gramm was. But, I am ever so thankful for the fact that Rosie's attitudes rested deep within me!

Without Rosie's traits, it is possible I would never have been able to face some of the obstacles that have been thrown in my path. Rosie's can-do-attitude was surely there when I fought to go to nursing school against my parents' wishes. Her attitude was there when I announced that I was moving out of Pennsylvania back in the early '70's. And it was definitely what saved my life when I decided that I could make it own my own as a single mom of three young girls - but that I couldn't survive if I stayed in the abusive relationship. Throughout the years, Rosie's self-confidence and empowering message have woven a thread through my very core.

It is Rosie's attitude that has helped me deal with the recurrent melanoma and find a reason to go on. It is Rosie's attitude that gave me the necessary strength to face raising my premature grandson, Caleb for the first four and a half years of his life. And Rosie absolutely must have been there when I mustered up the courage to hand him over to his birth father when the courts sided with him instead of me.

And now, as I prepare to start a whole new life as a woman in mid-life, I find that Rosie's strength, can-do-attitude and empowering images buoy me up when the roadblocks appear and they greet me on the other side of the roadblock when I have turned that power into action to move forward.

Rosie will be my companion as I venture into the land of 4seasons - I have no fear or doubt. With Rosie (and my Gramm's spirit) to guide me, I know that my future life is destined to be "the time of my life" - or is it "the time of my living" ?

Thanks Gramm!
Thanks Rosie!

Dominoes

Monday's mail finally brought the nursing school transcript I've been waiting for! That was the last hold out for the State Board of Nursing in TN -
I do believe. Now they have all that they need (and probably more) to verify that I am, indeed, an RN who has been practicing as such for over thirty years. Once they deem me worthy - ummm - qualified, I should be on my way to TN!

I need to have their "temporary permit" in hand before I can negotiate for a job...

I need a job before I can negotiate a start date...

I need a start date before I can negotiate a resignation date from my current job...

I need a resignation date before I can negotiate a moving date....

One thing depends on the next but at last I feel as though the dominoes have been put in motion and it is just a matter of time before they all come tumbling down!

Seems like it is time to start turning my attention to things like packing up non-essentials, down-sizing, etc.

I'm already excited about the prospects of the new life that awaits me in the land of 4 seasons! Imagine how much more excited I am going to be once all of those negotiations have taken place and the dominoes have all toppled!

Check back often for the status of this all-important domino game that is my life and my future!

What Took You So Long, Girls?

Maggie and Callee have been my little feline companions for quite some time now. Each has a unique personality and temperment. Each is precious to me in their own way. But neither one has been very tolerant of the other... until today.

Maggie, a long haired domestic cat, was a little feral kitten when I brought her home. Those first few days had me thinking that I had made a huge mistake... That there was no taming of a feral cat...That I would have to make a decision between keeping a cat who didn't want to be near people or letting her go back into the wild (or give her to the animal shelter where she was sure to meet her demise as a feral cat).

But, after a few days of patience and hopefulness, Maggie climbed up into my lap and wormed her way into my heart. She has been the best little lap kitty I have ever owned. Her six years with me have been bliss for both of us! Short for Magpie, Maggie is appropriately named because she chatters constantly. Her role in my creative life is that of "My Kitty Muse"
When typing at the keyboard, Maggie is there to observe and keep me company. When searching for just the right images to create a SoulCollage card or do some altered book project, Maggie delights in being in the center of the papers, ribbons, and other colorful arts and crafts materials.

Callee (a combination of my name and that of my grandson, Caleb's and my pen name when I choose not to write as myself) was a gift when I was recouperating from the second surgery for melanoma - October 2004.

She had been found wandering the streets when she was barely old enough to be away from her mother. After a brief stay at the Emergency Pet Hospital where my daughter Mandy works, she was declared healthy and ready for a new home. Mandy thought perhaps the little siamese kitten was just the pick-me-up I needed at a very difficult time. Mandy was right - but Maggie didn't agree!

For nearly two years, the two cats have tolerated one another - barely. They share the same home and the same human mom but that has been the extent of their willingness to be 'together' -- until today! I happened upon a very unusal and delightful sight just a bit ago and was fortunate enough to grab a shot of it before they change their minds about this thing called togetherness.

Here they are, curled up on top of the recliner -- not bothered by their close proximity for the first time ever! I didn't think I'd ever see them this close unless they were wrestling or hissing at one another.

Maybe the lazy rainy day has them feeling as mellow as I feel. Maybe the fact that I have been playing music and doing all manner of creative work today has added an air of contentment to the house. Perhaps they have finally figured out what I have tried to teach them all along -- They really are fine together. They each are sweet in their own way. They both mean the world to me. And, it is okay to curl up and be lazy together. That's what rainy Saturdays were made for afterall!

Snail Mail

Snail mail is alive and well ! If I had any doubt about that, this week's mail wiped all doubts away... Well, almost all ...

True, there is still one all-important piece of snail mail that eludes me. (The Tennessee State Board of Nursing License) But, after today, I have to believe that it won't be long before I hold that elusive envelope in my hands as well.

Over the past several months, the contents of my mailbox have become my lifeline... There are the individual packages from my altered book round robin friends. These packages hold the most marvelous gifts of personal art and inspiration...each book entrusted to the rest of the group AND to the postal service. Each time I post my own art work or that of my "sisters-in-altered-book- projects" I hold my breath. I can't rest comfortably until I receive word (via e-mail NOT snail mail) that the book has reached its next destination.

At the moment, I am waiting for two such altered book projects: the final one in this round robin which belongs to Susan who lives in Germany & my very own slated to come home after its trip around the world: Germany, France, and the U.S.

Then there are the myriad of "Swap-bot" mailings. I was recently introduced to Swap-bot by a new cyber friend who does SoulCollage cards. In responding to one of my SoulCollage posts, I found a link to her blog, visited it and saw an exciting opportunity to share some of my own craft bits and pieces and perhaps get some new/different items in return. The swap process has offered a previously untapped resource for supplies for my various altered and collage art projects. Each day is an adventure in the mailbox when I am in the midst of another great swap! Postcards from around the world, plastic bottles filled with various and sundry "stuff" for creative projects, envelopes filled with ribbons/trims/papers .. you name it, there's a swap for it. And, in most cases, the only cost is a bit of time and the price of a stamp! What a bargain and so much fun!!

An unexpected card or note from one of my two dear friends, AnnMarie and Judy, always manages to brighten my day. They seem to somehow know just when I need to find them waiting in my mailbox! Sometimes I chuckle because their mail arrives just about the time they should be receiving a similar item from me. We are so in tune with the rhythm of life - but then, that's what soul sisters are all about, right?

But the prize this week was the letter from Caleb. My dear sweet grandson (who is turning SIX on the 27th of this month) moved to TN about six weeks ago. It has been a very L-O-N-G six weeks! It seems like an eternity since I last snuggled up with him on the couch to read a book. And even longer since I was able to hug him while telling him how much I love him.

My emotions rode the proverbial rollercoaster when I saw an envelope bearing his return address earlier this week. I was elated. Tearing open the envelope, I couldn't wait to read the contents. And, as anyone who knows me will attest, in true form, as I read his sweet little letter, I was moved to tears. Grandmas are like that, you know - we cry for all sorts of things both happy and sad. This was one of those times when the tears were bittersweet. I was thrilled to get a letter from him. I was touched by the sweetness and innocence of his words. I was saddened by the geographical distance that separates us right now. I was up and then I was down and then I was up again... All over the map as they say!

Chasing down the hall, I couldn't wait to share the letter with anyone who would take the time to read it and share in my joy. Secretly, I counted the days that it has been since Caleb and I were together... and the years that I was with him all the time... and weighed the enormity of the hole in my heart that has been created by his move.

Then, in the next breath, I reminded myself that I am working toward an eventual move to be closer to him and to be in the midst of Mother Nature in all of her glory each of the four seasons.

After raising Caleb for the first four and a half years of his now six year life, it is hard to be so far away from him. But, after raising him for all that time, it is also very comforting to know that he and I share a very special bond that no time or distance can erase.

I am thrilled that he and I can continue to stay connected - whether it be in the form of email, snail mail or phone calls until we are once again in the same location. And, in the meantime, I will continue to go to my mailbox in hopeful anticipation of another reason to smile and laugh and cry all in the same breath.

Passions Breed Other Passions...

If someone had told me that becoming a writer or a mixed medium artist would alter the way I saw and experienced reading and art, I would have laughed at the thought! And if I had been told that, in fact, I would experience my whole world through a new set of eyes and ears, I know I would have dismissed the idea in no time at all.

But... 'tis true indeed! When I began writing in earnest, I discovered that I was still a voracious reader. But, my choice of reading materials has changed. And worse(or perhaps it's better?), my "writer's eyes and ears" are in overdrive throughout most of my reading experiences. I search for voice and place in each book. With little to no effort, I find myself picking up on errors in syntax, grammar and spelling.

Likewise, my favorite "public pasttime" of people-watching took on new meaning once I began writing. I listen to the way people communicate with one another. I watch body language. I memorize physical characteristics and mannerisms... All in an effort to become an observer of the obvious and the subtle differences in people -- so that my characters will one day be real... alive... vibrant.

A walk in the park or along the beach is a delight for the five senses ... I find gifts of Mother Nature that lend themselves to my art. I see, hear, smell and feel things that weave their way into my stories: the feel of the ocean breeze, the smell of spring rain, the shrill cry of the gulls, the colors of the rainbow. Life is more alive and every ounce of me is aware of that as I walk. No matter how many times I walk the same path, each time is a new experience that holds the potential for more story lines or artistic renderings.

When I became involved in creating SoulCollage cards and doing altered books, my artistic eye changed from an admirer to a "dreamer and a do-er". A trip to the craft store for one item now finds me always alert to new items or concepts that might be tried in one of my altered books. A stroll through the fabric store has me spending most of my time admiring and/or choosing unique ribbons or buttons for embellishment of my art.

Visits to the used book stores now become adventures for not only reading but for art use as well. My grandmother would shudder at the thought of my altered book activites. "Books are our friends." "We never ever turn down the corner of a book or write in a book." How many times did I hear those comments as I was growing up? Now, I look for books to turn into works of art. But, let me say right here and now that I do not take books that have value and life in them and destroy them... I rescue books that are doomed for the dumpster and revive them! So, Gramm can rest in peace and I can do my art in peace and the world is a happier place for it!

And forget EVER viewing a magazine in the same fashion ever again! Now, as I read a journal or magazine, I do so once for the content that is of interest to me. But that experience is only a prelude to the time I spend reviewing the images in the magazines -- looking for the one or two that seem to jump off the page. Sometimes they speak to me immediately and I know exactly what I am to do with them. Sometimes, they capture my attention or my imagination and I have no earthly idea how or when they will come in handy. All I know is that I cannot let them go by the wayside. Who could have guessed that I would one day find it necessary to have a pair of scissors handy each time I sat down with a magazine? Certainly not I!

Today a friend asked me if all of this doesn't make my passions less enjoyable to me now. I guess she was thinking that these changes in how I approach life make what I love more like work and less like play. But, that is the farthest thing from the truth. In fact, the way I approach the books I read, the art I do, the trips to the art and fabric stores has made each of these more enjoyable ... more enriching... and best of all, it has opened up that creative spot in my soul that is a thirsty sponge waiting to soak up every ounce of creativity that comes its way. Maybe that is what passion is all about. I'd like to think so.

Summer Reading Comes Full Circle

It's no secret to those who know me - I love to read! Most times, I have at least two or three books going at the same time. Sometimes, however, I find that a book is so engaging I simply must lend all of my available reading time to that one 'great read'.

I have just experienced one such 'great read' - "Mockingbird: A Portrait of Harper Lee" by Charles J. Shields. Who among us has not read "To Kill a Mockingbird" as an assigned reading for school?

For me, "To Kill a Mockingbird" was one of those books I took out of our small town library one summer - long before it would become required reading. I read it all day under the big oak tree out back. When the sun set and 'lights out' was imposed, I continued to read it - under the covers by flashlight. But I always had one ear listening for the sound of a creak in the steps which would signal Daddy was on his way upstairs. That creak was my signal to (temporarily) turn the flashlight off and feign sleep until the coast was clear.

There are only a few books that I feel compelled to re-read multiple times. Charles Dickens' "Tale of Two Cities" runs a close second to "To Kill a Mockingbird." Marion Zimmer Bradley's "The Mists of Avalon" and Anne Morrow Lindbergh's "Gifts of the Sea" follow close behind the two classics.

I can't tell you the number of times I've read Harper Lee's classic. I've lost track. "To Kill a Mockingbird" is one of my all-time-favorite books! And, while I am not usually a fan of movies based on books, the movie version of Harper Lee's tale of life in a small Southern town ranks among my favorite movies as well.

This being said, it should come as no surprise that when I saw "Mockingbird" on the shelf, I couldn't resist. From the very first page, I was 'had'! Too bad if anyone or anything required my undivided attention while I was reading "Mockingbird"! That just wouldn't be happening because I did not want to pry myself away from the pages of this wonderful read.

It must have been an incredibly daunting task to undertake - the telling of Harper Lee's life. A task made even more daunting because she is still alive and did not participate in the telling of her story. I cannot imagine how great the desire to please and to "get it right" when crafting a book about someone's life. But I really cannot imagine doing so for a person who looms larger than life to many in the literary world!

Reading "Mockingbird" has not only left me in awe of the woman behind one of my favorite books of all time, it has conjured up a host of nostalgic memories of a childhood long gone. Reading it has sent me to the video store to search out the movie once again and caused me to pull my well-worn copy of Harper Lee's book down from the shelf so that I can re-read it. Doing so will no doubt bring another flood of childhood memories. But one thing's for sure! This time around I won't have to hide under the covers with a flashlight - but perhaps I will anyway! Just for the fun of it! Once more for old time's sake!

Just Once Before I Move

How many years have I lived in southwest Florida? Nearly 30! After such a long time, you'd think I would have seen and done all that I ever dreamed of doing here in the land of perpetual summer. But, now that I am thinking of relocating to a place with 4 seasons, I find that I can name quite a few places I've "always wanted to go but just never made time"...

There is the Big Cypress Gallery filled with the black & white photographs of Clyde Butcher - the Ansel Adams of the Florida Everglades. Finally, just over the July 4th weekend, I made time to go there. And believe me, I was ever so glad that I did! What I would have missed had I not made time to go see for myself what the books and website can only elude to in the way of exquisite photos of the Everglades wilderness. You can get a taste of his work by visiting his website at www.clydebutcher.com.

Then there are places that are a bit farther away but still within the driving distance: St Augustine and Weekie Wachee where the mermaids live - no lie! Oh! Let's not forget the Coral Castle in Miami or the butterfly garden in Ft. Lauderdale. One more trip to Disney's Epcot Center would be nice and I hear that the Cypress Gardens has changed completely since I was there back in the '70's.

When my friend Judy came to visit recently she remarked "How great it must be to live so close to the beach and the water!" I didn't have the heart to tell her that until June when I had two rounds of company I couldn't tell you the last time I walked on the beach at sunset.

It isn't that I don't like to do such things. No, far from it. I draw great peace and strength from the pull of the tides. It isn't even my melanoma that prevents me from feeling comfortable about daytime visits in the intense and harmful sun. It is more about working hard, going full tilt- all day, every day- and never taking the time for renewal. It's about believing (no matter how erroneous that belief is) that the beach and gulf are always going to be there and that I will have all the time in the world to go back "some other day."

Why is it that when we live in a place we begin to take its attractions and its natural beauty for granted? Maybe we just figure that we have all the time in the world to get there. Maybe we just never seem to be able to make time in our over-scheduled daytimers. Maybe we never truly appreciate what we have until we are on the verge of losing it.

Once a person has been through two bouts with a life threatening disease such as I have, you quickly reassess your views on what is important and what can wait. You learn that you should never put off til tomorrow ... and you realize that our time in any one place is temporary. For that reason alone, we should all make time in our busy schedules to be UNscheduled and to do the things that bring us joy and fill our souls with goodness.

One thing's for sure - for the rest of the time I live here in Florida - no matter how many or how few those days may be, I am going to do all of the things I said I would do when I first moved here all those years ago. When I get to the place where 4 seasons abound, I don't want to have any regrets about the list of places and sights I never made time to go see.

Embarking on another new adventure

Entering this first post to my new creative4seasons blog is yet one more new adventure for me. For some reason the idea of setting up and managing a blog was a bit intimidating. But, as my creative network expands, it seemed as though it was time for me to step up to the challenge.

And so, here I am with my own blog - a place that I hope will provide others with a window on my creative world. I hope that you enjoy what you will find here as the days, weeks and four seasons pass by. And, I hope that you will come back and visit often.