On Saturday, August 24, 2019, the largest tree in our yard, a Black Locust tree that might have been as old as our Eisenhower-era home, changed its stance from vertical to horizontal. Enjoy the ride – and click any pic to imbiggen it!
Once upon a time there were six little cousins. The eldest, most wisest of them all was Sherrie the Trailblazer. Successor to her throne was Sharon the Serious. Following down the line of succession came Lori the Befuddled, Lonnie the Stoic, Dave the Adventurous, and Donie Who-Must-Be-Doted-Upon (the baby always gets that role).
The cousins were ruled by those in true power: the Almighty Parents, and the Ever-Indulgent Grandparents. All would gather together for the High Feasts; Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas. These holidays were celebrated at one of the three Mighty Fortresses each year in rotation, and so each location was featured every three years. These Fortresses were the Tower of Torrance, the Palace of Pasadena, and the Domicile of Duarte.
For a time, the three princesses were inseparable. The older two princesses took it upon themselves to teach the youngest one the ways of the world. With a little help from Gramma, of course.
Gramma taught the princesses many important things, like how to knit, how play Chinese Checkers, how to appreciate a well-laid-out pickle platter, and how to play the national sport of the land, shuffleboard. There was nothing that Gramma couldn’t do.
Gramma and Granapa’s home, The Palace of Pasadena, was filled with mystery and adventure. The Hollow Walkway of the Front Porch seemed to echo with exotic voices from the other side of the world, while the Geranium Ramparts behind the palace, encircled by a short brick wall, simply begged to be scampered around, and around, and around upon. Behind the Ramparts was the door to the Heavenly Kitchen, from whence emanated the Smells of Wonderment and Delight. To the left, one can see the window into Granapa’s Office, a realm of fun with rubber stamps and other office supplies.
Of course, the princesses would sometimes fight over the Throne of Power, but it always ended in a tie.
And of course, every princess knew that swimming in the moat was *strictly* forbidden. Except, apparently, Princesses Lori and Sherrie.
For a time, the Enclave of El Monte was also the scene of many medieval burger banquets and raucous revelry.
On special occasions, Princesses Lori and Sherrie (shown here in matching royal ballgowns), were escorted to a Magic Kingdom in Anaheim by Gramma, the Grand Matriarch.
While exploring the Magic Kingdom, the two princesses took a trip to Wonderland, where they had many fine adventures with Alice. A haughty but helpful caterpillar acted as their conveyance.
Then accompanied by Snow White, they boarded a fine watercraft and bravely journeyed through the gaping mouth of a whale, emerging into an Enchanted Storybook Land.
Time Passed, as it does, and the princesses found themselves more often exploring the world on Grand Adventures of their own. However, their bond was strong, and having grown up together, they would always have a shared understanding of the world.
And of course, they sometimes found time to dance the hula.
The Palace of Pasadena, the scene of so many mad romps and adventures, continued to be a refuge, with Granapa and Gramma offering their unconditional love and support.
Princess Sherrie was a gift to us all. From her, Princess Lori learned that a woman could be strong and outspoken. She learned that a woman could lead. For as long as she was able, Princess Lori followed her role model.
This week, Princess Sherrie needed to leave us to travel to a far-off palace, one that she could never return from. But she left those who loved her with remembrance of good times, laughter, smiles. And Princess Lori was given the best gift of all, a delightful childhood filled with happy memories. Thank you, Princess Sherrie, you will always be remembered and loved!
~ ~ ~
Bonus Feature! An early photo shoot with Princesses Sherrie, Lori and Sharon, in which Princess Sherrie really shows off her charms, as well as a talent for funny faces. Take that, Lucille Ball, here’s the real crazy redhead.
And then Granapa showed up to bring some class and decorum to the scene.
Of course, Gramma had to get in on the fun, too!
It’s been an extraordinarily rainy weekend. Rainy and windy, which means that all the windows facing south and east are providing a rather impressionistic view of the world. This hazy, beautiful view inspired some watching of Amazon Prime videos to learn more about Paul Durand-Ruel, an avid believer in the Impressionist art movement, at a time when they were scorned, mocked and slandered by most of Europe. I was rather cheered to learn that America gave that particular art movement heaps of support and love—something that Europe couldn’t be arsed to do. Continue reading “The Weekend Left A Good Impression”
For those tuning in late, we moved in late February, and have been doing a lot of landscaping and home decor work ever since. For the first time in my life, I have a room of my very own that is not a bedroom. It’s exciting!
The GirlCave is coming along. Yesterday my chaise arrived! Of course, I have to share it with Chives. Continue reading “Chaise-ing The Blues Away”
William Henry Harrison gave the longest damn inaugural speech any president’s ever given, on March 4th, 1841. For an hour and forty five minutes a 68 year old guy shouted at a crowd IN THE MIDDLE OF A SNOWSTORM without wearing a hat, gloves or coat. After that, rather than getting some rest in the white house, he headed out to whoop it up at *multiple* parties. Continue reading “Speaking of Disappointing Politics and Snowstorms”
When I was in 6th grade, I thought it would be fun to ride my Flexy Racer down one of the steepest streets in my hilly suburb. It was great fun! I sat on the Flexy and steered with my feet and felt pretty damn bad-ass. But the street ended in a sharp curve to the right, and I couldn’t negotiate it with my feet. I couldn’t brake either, since my feet were controlling the combination steering AND braking pedals. I hit the curb really hard, flew off the Flyer, and landed in the gutter pretty much face-first. I scraped my face pretty badly and chipped my front tooth. It was the week of school photos, too.
I have three websites. One is a commercial site for chocolate and coffee, one is for promoting my books, and there’s this one – for whatever I damn well wish to write at any given moment. Still here? Buckle up, bumpy ride ahead.
This is going to be rather personal and probably a lot maudlin. Feel free to close the browser tab and I send no hard feelings if you do. By way of explanation, a younger relative of mine is on the cusp of one of life’s greatest adventures – waving farewell to the parents and getting her own apartment. This got me remembering my own rite of passage. Those days are burned into my brain with the red-hot poker of nostalgia.
That’s the weirdest sentence I’ve yet written, but I stand by it. I can still remember the smallest of details. How the cheap wood floorboards creaked. The slam of the trunk of a Yellow Cab. The annoying crackle of a single paint-splattered speaker I laughingly called my ‘stereo system’. The squeaks of an air mattress every time I moved in the night.