The Vanespa

Good morning,

The birds are making a joyful racket and isn't spring just the best?

This is Vanessa on her new scooter. Just when I think she can't get any cuter, she goes and surprises me!

dinner at panera

Hi, All-

Bobbi, Kathy and I met for soup after work-as is probably written all over our faces, we had a lovely time together, like we always do. I treasure these women and we all agree that men may come and men may go, but the love we have for each other is the real deal. 

Last November I bought a card that expressed sentiment about friends:

"We all let people into our lives, but you will find that really good friends let you into your own."

If we have great friends who love us and are honest with us, this happens, and when it does it is a gift beyond measure.

An eye story for you:

I went to Lowe's the other day to get some fertilizer for the lawn, having spent the afternoon raking and finding little green heads peeking out of the ground. My eyes were itchy, are every other MIchigander's this time of year, and I was rubbing both of them hard as I drove.  What I didn't realize is that I somehow managed to flip my magic eye upSIDE DOWN.....

I didn't realize why the cashier was looking at me a little oddly until I checked the mirror when I got back to the car! So, I have a peculiar request for you all--please, give me a headsup if my eye is askew, ok? :)

Carolyn's Announcement

Now it is official: our dear Carolyn, the Waukazoo librarian and technology specialist, the Resourceress, the creator of MIKIDS, my wonderful friend of 17 years, is moving to the Indianapolis area where her hub Stefan has started a new job. It is a great job, from all accounts, and he is up to the challenge and raring to go, having had a few months of tweener retirement that he didn't really ask for. Congratulations to both of you as you walk toward something new.

They have bought a breathtaking house, the kind of house people drive by on Sunday afternoons and say, " Wow, look at that one!"  Plenty of room for the pinball machine and the baby grand.

A great kitchen in which Carolyn can whip up her delectable deserts.  Three guest rooms-one each for Bobbi, Kathy and I. We need to pick out bedspreads and paint.  I want the red Chinese bedspread in my room!

All who know Carolyn, who I affectionately call "Eric" from an old MOnty Python joke (the one about the dead budgie and the fish license), know that she is a very witty person. She just delights me with her sense of humor. She is also strong, direct, insightful, headstrong, and a little bossy. These qualities are precisely what has made her so successful in building the libraries she oversees at Waukazoo and Sheldon Woods. We don't of course have any idea how much we will miss her. Her shoes are far too big to fill (although, with a little heel and a short skirt, who would know?)

One of my favorite memories of Carolyn: we went to a conference in Arizona years ago, when teachers still got to go to things like that, and when we got to the hotel, all of our luggage and stuff was in a pile. My handmade Mexican shawl was among the stuff, and Carolyn looked at it and sniffed, " who the hell brought that thing?" A little offended, I sniffed, "that is MINe, Carolyn!" and we laughed (I laughed just a little.) A little later, I saw a Louis Vutton bag and made a comment about the ostentatiousness of those hideous designer bags with initials all over them which translate into dollar signs to the observer...and of course, it was her bag.  

How we have gotten so close over the years is just a testament to how much we love the differences between us.

I love you, Eric.

Goodbye, Karla's Place

Dear People,

Today is the final day that one of my favorite Holland shops, Karla's Place, will be open for business.  If  you haven't been there and can make it downtown today, it is on College, just up from Roxie's Vintage.  Go there to see Karla and wish her well. It will be worth the trip.

Karla's shop is painted warm colors, reds and pinks that reflect the warmth of the owner.  Her shop is filled with things that were made by other people and her reverance for artistry and originality are evident everywhere. As a proprietor, Karla is an advocate for artists: everyone from high-profile crafters and artisians to a young girl of about 12 who was selling her earrings to buy a puppy.  Now, Karla is moving toward listening to her own artist's voice and making time to make things. Of course, this is letting go, jumping off the cliff, moving forward fully aware of the impermanence of all there is, and the futility of trying to get ground under our feet, no matter how we try. 

I met Karla because my dear friend Mark Amenta told me about her, so I visited her shop.  I bought a Tibetian singing bowl ringer for my phone there. Now, whenever my phone rings, I hear that beautiful sound, gently bringing me to awareness, a subtle nudge rather than a shrill demand for attention. That is how Karla is, too.

She emailed me and told me she was saving my favorite necklace for me, and she practically gave it away.  As always, there is a story behind it, and the women who made it are pictured along with the necklace itself.  As you can see, it is made of jade, boxwood, silver and pearls.

I went to Karla's with my dear Julie and it was the place she found the perfect gift for her sister Coralee--a beautiful cloth of green and brown.

I bought gifts for friends and children there. 

Whenever I go there, she asks about Annie and her art career. She always remembers everything.  After my surgery, I got a beautiful card from her.

Now, she is looking at taking her art and her wares out into the world, to other places, sharing her gift for putting people and beautiful things together. I wish her well and am happy that I will still be on her email list.

Things really don't have beginnings and ends, it seems. It is more a coming together, a separating, and then a coming together again, the familiar with the new, as life unfolds.

The thread that connects it all is love.

Bella's Installation

Hello from Hollywood Street,

This is what Bella created this morning, using nothing more than ordinary paper towels. I believe she is addressing the problem of consumer waste--or perhaps it is simpler than that-the beauty of the random distribution of form. She has declined to comment further on it--being a Buddha dog, she wants us to draw our own conclusions....

It is good to be home. I rarely thought about my prosthesis on this trip-except to get some advice from Geneva on eyewashes and ways to clean it. 

In touch with Mike to make some minor changes next week to allow me to close my eye better.

Bella is being spayed this morning..keep her in your prayers.

The twisted sisters are here tonight for a Spring Break sleepover!

Hello, All!

First, let me give you the link to my Picasa album of my visit with Dad and Geneva... it is:

http://picasaweb.google.com/claudacious/SpringBreakinEvansville

This was a great trip, and my first in several years to Evansville. Going there is like going ahead about a month, weatherwise...the pear trees are all in bloom, along with many other blossoms and blooms, and the grass was the brightest green. I smelled fresh-cut grass on my morning walks with Bella and felt the warm sun. We sat outside in the backyard, and felt the balmy breeze. 

Geneva made wonderful food and spoiled Dad and I as usual, and we all spoiled Bella.

The trip home was beautiful- I had forgotten the subtle colors and order of the farmland on US 31 and the eccentric signs and buildings that keep things interesting.

Glad to be home. 

love,

claudia

Back from Evansville!

Spring break

good morning, friends,

Yesterday was a beautiful day, as my Holland buddies can attest, and Bella and I took to the beach..what a glorious afternoon.

Today I head to Evansville Indiana to visit my dad, Dr. Tom.  One of the many gifts of my illness has been my reconciliation with him, which I have probably written to you about already, but to be able to talk to him just about every day and have the comfort and joy of a parent is something I didn't even know was missing in my life. I have come to believe that we must reach out with abandon in spite of our fear. Thanks to my friend Barb for making me call him that day when I told her about my eye. She was right. 

If someone is on your mind, folks, pick up that phone.

The worst that can happen is that your life will get a little bigger, in one way or another.

Happy Spring Break!

Happy Birthday, Annie

Annie has been drawing ever since she could. As you can see, not much has changed in the past 20 years or so.

Happy Birthday, my darling girl! Thank you for your love and devotion, your sense of humor, your spirit, your creativity. What an incredible gift you are to me and everyone who knows you!

Wish Anna a happy birthday by using this email"

ahagar@gmail.com!

Lynn

The first time I saw Lynn was at an AA meeting about 7 years ago. A very diminuative person to begin with, she looked even more so due to her severe health problems-she had been diagnosed with cirrhosis of the liver and its symptoms were rampant.  She wore a pink bathrobe and slippers because her distended abdomen and swollen feet would not accomodate street clothes. She used a walker because her swollen feet were virtually numb and her balance was off. She had lost some of her hair and what remained stood up like that of a baby bird. Her  skin was yellow. 

She moved like an elderly person, tentative, tired. Lynn was 44.

The story was: Lynn wanted to die sober. She had just endured another episode of public drunkenness , the consequences of which drew her 25 year old daughter into a familiar whirlwind of police, ambulance, emergency room and detox. Lynn didn't want to put Kimmie through it any more, so she went through detox by herself, in her house, with the door locked and the phone off the hook, and then came to a meeting. I don't even know how she got there.

As the months went by, Lynn was staying sober, but also, amazingly, she seemed to be getting better.  She even joked about it as summer came and she was finally able to fit into her shoes, and her hair grew back, and her skin got pinker and a mischevious smile began to appear on her face.   Her worda at meetings inspired all of us and we began calling her our Miracle.  She struggled with the same things all people do who live in functional poverty-the dismissive attitude of doctors, fighting with Medicare to get medication, repeated attempst to get disability, feeling invisible in this system of ours.  But in the middle of all of this-light, gratitude, humor, love, friendship.  She got a job, a car that worked. She repainted her dining room bright red.  She knitted ponchos and scarves. She wore wild earrings. She dated a couple of guys, nothing serious, but part of coming back from the dead and feeling like a woman again, a young and vibrant one at that.

Lynn met a guy at a meeting named Brad--an impossibly tall, thin and lanky guy with a cowboy hat-a country singer with shoulders and heart big enough to hold her.  Within a few months, Lynn announced that she was moving to Montana with him. She gave away or sold everything she owned and they bought a little RV. They left the day after Thanksgiving. We cautioned her about what seemed like a reckless decision--did she really know this guy? Did she want to give up her job, her home, her security, for this great unknown of Brad and MOntana? Yes, she said. Yes, I do, and I am doing it.  There was a calmness about her that put an end to our advice-giving.

Lynn died happy among the mountains of Montana with her true love at her side. The last picture I saw of her shows her standing on a ridge with a white jacket and a cowboy hat, that mischevious smile peeking out at us.  The cancer they had discovered was everywhere. She called me and left a message and three days later she was gone.

Lynn knew what was important, and she had the wisdom and the courage to remain true to it.

She died sober and happy and unencumbered by all of the stuff that we tend to cling to with our very lives. 

Next month would have been her 7th sobriety birthday. I will think of Lynn as I see the flowers come up that she helped me plant in my garden.