REDONDOWRITER'S SACRED ORDINARY

Not Leaving Las Vegas--Yet

Today’s Las Vegas is absolutely nothing like it was in the 1950s; I’m glad I got the experience of spending time here when I was young. The weather is spectacular but mostly I’ve been indoors with my sister and my laptop and oblivious of the tourist side of the town. (Dannie, have you been here in later years?) My friend Dannie's mom lived here and after Ray and I were married, we often came to Vegas.

 When I visit during the past eight years it is because Virginia moved here after living mostly in L.A. throughout her life. Two of her children live here but her husband passed away just a few months after the move. Now she is 83 and very frail physically but she always had a zany sense of humor, and that hasn’t changed. She no longer drives because of vision and concentration problems so today she chose to go to Target and the grocery store with me which totally wore her out.  Sigh! Virginia is the next sister in age to me—11 years older and when we were young, we actually shared a bed, to her great disgust.  Her eldest son is 10 years younger than I am and her youngest is one year older than my eldest. The photo below is when she was in her early 20s.

Our lives have always been deeply entwined. Because my folks had me (accidentally) when they were over 40, I spent a lot of summer time at Virginia’s home growing up. I was like her oldest kid. There were sidewalks where she lived and I skated endlessly and I had a summer set of friends in Inglewood where she lived. The year prior to my marriage, I lived again with Virginia, Sal and their family after I left college. My brother-in-law actually gave me away at my wedding.

So, there’s a lot of poignancy as the years wind down and we both slow down. As I type, she works in her Word Search puzzle book and we’re watching “Dancing With the Stars.”

Tomorrow my sis and I will visit some of her friends and then my nephew will show me the Wynn Hotel, which I haven’t seen yet.  My sis has declined  tomorrow night when my nephew and I catch the late show Ka (Cirque de Soleil) at the MGM Grand. My sister will NOT go into a hotel or casino and minces no words or grimaces when she calls her town “Sin City.”

Some of the big hotels here are going under and Folies Bergere closed permanently this past weekend. The unemployment rate is very high and whole huge blocks of new homes are in foreclosure. Yes, I am very glad I got to spend time here when it was a fledgling town. 

St. Patrick's Breastplate

Yesterday my rector posted a version of St. Patrick's Breastplate he likes on Facebook and then memories flooded back of how I played a version I liked every morning for years--and then I fell out of the habit. Why do we fall out of habits of things that have nurtured our souls? Here is a video version of the same song that I personally love by Angelina.

A Lifetime of Loving Libraries - Sunland, CA to New York City

While writing some posts for the Peninsula Friends of the Library blog today, I started thinking about my life-time love affair with public and private libraries—and how libraries are changing, or will change, in the digital age.

That started me thinking about the hundreds of libraries I have visited during my life. The love affair began with the Sunland, CA Public Library in 1944, a tiny storefront that seemed literally heavenly to me from the moment I stepped into it. This is a photo of it as I knew it from the L.A. Public Library’s historical photography collection.

The summers in Sunland were so hot and though no one had air conditioning in those days, I would go to the library and read in front of a fan sometimes. I loved the smell of the library and was forever checking out as many books as they would allow me to have. Is there anything like the feel of a book? (Many would say a Kindle, I suppose.) Occasionally there would be a field trip to the big downtown L.A. public library. Oh, my heart be still. My son Tony's office is right across from LAPL.

Then I started to think of how I visit public libraries (and cemeteries) when I travel. You can learn so much about an area from each of these locations. And in this electronic age, when I can’t get wi-fi in a hotel or in the home of family or friends I am visiting,  off I go to the public library where I am bound to find a connection.

Another Library that sticks in my mind at the moment is the New York Public Library. When I was advising my school’s student newspaper, each summer I would take students to Columbia University for a week of journalism immersion. (The old and new libraries there are magnificent, too, and a story for another time.) Each time I visited the city, I visited the New York Public Library. 

 

After the Library of Congress in Washington DC, the New York Public Library is the largest in the United States with several million volumes in holdings and manuscripts. Finished in the early decades of the 20th century, and combining three private holdings at the time (the Astor, Tilden and Lenox libraries, all inscribed on the entablature), the building was largely funded by Andrew Carnegie. Today, the front steps form the perfect place to relax for daytrippers, and the library itself is a popular destination for tourists, including me.

Imagine my delight today when visiting the NYPL site to find that they have a magnificent digital gallery of their holdings I did not know existed. Check it out—and won’t you share some of your library stories with me and other Sacred Ordinary readers?

 

 

 

Preparing for Earth Hour

It is 7:15 p.m. in Redondo Beach and I'm preparing for Earth Hour. I'm setting up my writing and reading corner with candlelight. It is suggested we take a photo during this hour and post it to Flickr, Twitter and blog it.

I just watched Larry King Live and saw Ed Norton speaking about Earth Hour and though I know it is a symbolic gesture toward conservation, it's another step for me personally.

VOTE EARTH
YOUR LIGHT SWITCH IS YOUR VOTE

This year, Earth Hour has been transformed into the world’s first global election, between Earth and global warming.

For the first time in history, people of all ages, nationalities, race and background have the opportunity to use their light switch as their vote – Switching off your lights is a vote for Earth, or leaving them on is a vote for global warming. WWF are urging the world to VOTE EARTH and reach the target of 1 billion votes, which will be presented to world leaders at the Global Climate Change Conference in Copenhagen 2009.

This meeting will determine official government policies to take action against global warming, which will replace the Kyoto Protocol. It is the chance for the people of the world to make their voice heard.

When the Going Gets Rough, Build A Fort

On Sunday I had dinner at my son Tony's home and Henry, the nearly six-year-old (his birthday is next month, but his dad and my granddaughter's are tomorrow), had a big surprise. He had built a fort in his bedroom and after he tidied it up, he took me on a tour. It was a really big deal to be invited into his inner sanctum. 

The beauty of this fort was that from the front, where I took the photo, I saw many of his favorite stuffed animals I hadn't seen since he was very little, including blue bear up in the left corner. He always slept with blue bear and his blankie. Tony brought the owl home from Crescent Lake Lodge when his brother got married--and brother Fritz was born two days later. So many memories.

Henry and Fritz often build forts with the sofa pillows, but this is the first time I've seen Henry build a private fort. He even has a bed in there. 

The wonder of this fort was when he invited me inside, there were nooks and crannies and all kinds of other wonders he created but weren't visible unless you immersed yourself. Wow. A metaphor for how I look at life.

When I was young, we were forever building forts--some very elaborate and others as simple as a sheet tied onto some bushes to hide behind, or a blanket draped over a card table. Once inside these magical creations, whole new worlds opened up. 

Then I went blog walking for a while tonight, and visited Lorna in Wonderland where she described an incredible fort her two granddaughters built in her living room. I was enchanted and what a lovely piece of synchronicity.

I think my whole home these days is like my childhood fort--and my patio garden is yet another fort. And my bed, which I call "the nest" is the one I retreat to not only to sleep (and read), but it's where I find solace--another sort of fort. A Course in Miracles has a quote, "In my defenselessness my safety lies." But, when retreating into a fort, are we retreating or are we really becoming who we really are?"Is safety within or without, or both?"  A few philosophical question as I prepare for bed. 

More Evidence of Spring at Redondowriter's House

SOME MORE EVIDENCE OF SPRING

The sun was out the entire day and I spent three hours in my patio garden this afternoon mopping up from winter. All the patio furniture is back out, plants pruned, re-potted and discarded where appropriate.  Next will be a visit to the garden shop tomorrow to bring in new bedding plants. My mood elevates dramatically when I can dig in the dirt again.

I cleaned out my bedroom closet today and bagged several sacks full of clothing I am never going to wear. I'm not quite ready to bring out the spring clothing until it warms up more, however.

My neighbor Ryan visited tonight; he is a great handy man and I'm having several things done around in the house in the next few weeks, including a new ceiling fan in the bedroom and a new water heater.

Sophia, the art mannikin, is wearing her first of her spring outfits, this one is periwinkle blue chiffon, spring flowers in her hair, one of my herd of rabbits (my favorite one actually with a little kid voice reciting "Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep"), and my pink and blue lion power animal necklace.

Lordy, I remember way back when that my own body looked like this--and I thought I was too skinny.

The bench by the dining room table is occupied by the rest of the herd of rabbits. Who says you have to be totally mature when you're 71?

 

Cookie, though mildly indignant, posed for a Welcome Spring photo. You should have seen her in the yard with me today, hunting for the patches of sun to stretch out and snooze in. Life is very good today.

Variations on Periwinkle Blue Flowers

Variation I

Variation II

Variation III

Variation IV

IN THE SILENCE, IN THE SILENCE

Frannie Fraggle Was Frazzled and Fearful But Now Is Fine

The past several weeks have been very busy and I've been feeling frazzled. By the way, it's my friend Lucille who calls me Frannie Fraggle. Several of my friends have pet names for me with the F alliteration; I guess that means they care. The reason I chose this Maxine cartoon is because when I'm feeling frazzled, I keep my mouth shut 'cause I don't want to be responsible for what I might say when I am little insane. 

Spring break for me started on Friday and not a day too soon. I worked really hard all week to get a lot of stuff done before I left for two weeks. I have a piece-of-cake job so all my anxiety is self-imposed. Sometimes I just have to pretend that I've got a "big" job again so I can feel the high you get when you're on deadline. 

This weekend has been tax prep and I always berate myself for waiting so long. I HATE PREPARING TAXES! (Who doesn't?) But, after many hours of sorting paperwork and checking things online against my records, I'm ready for tomorrow. 

Tonight I went to dinner at my son Tony and DIL Gretchen's house where my two sweet grandsons Henry and Fritz are. Tony cooked great tacos and the boys kept me amused and alert. Sometimes lately I've been spacing out. 

So, I have a long list of "to dos" over the next two weeks both at home and for my little side business and volunteering. I'm just so grateful that my pain has lessened and that I do have a lot of energy. 

Next week, since Cookie is doing so well, my friend Carole is coming to stay with her while I fly to Las Vegas to see my 83-year-old sister for three days. I procrastinate about this, too, and really, it's ridiculous. It's a one-hour flight. There will be no night life whatsoever this time, but seeing her will be enough. I've found that as I age I am not as inclined to travel. I really, really like it at home. 

So, hopefully I will be blog walking more and Facebooking, too. I've missed you all. 

Welcoming Spring a la Mary Oliver

Redondo Beach was covered in marine layer all day, but I welcomed spring in my own way--by reading Mary Oliver. I have seen bears in Yosemite National Park and other places in the High Sierra, as well as Washington state and I have been awe struck every time.

Photo from National Geographic.

 

Spring
 
Somewhere
a black bear
has just risen from sleep
and is staring
 
down the mountain.
All night
in the brisk and shallow restlessness
of early spring
 
I think of her,
her four black fists
flicking the gravel,
her tongue
 
like a red fire
touching the grass,
the cold water.
There is only one question:
 
how to love this world.
I think of her
rising
like a black and leafy ledge
 
to sharpen her claws against
the silence
of the trees.
Whatever else
 
my life is
with its poems
and its music
and its cities,
 
it is also this dazzling darkness
coming
down the mountain,
breathing and tasting;
 
all day I think of her –
her white teeth,
her wordlessness,
her perfect love.
 
-- Mary Oliver, House of Light

 

Libraries: Thinking the Unthinkable

Kathy Gould, the Director of the Palos Verdes Library District, writes on her library blog as often as she can and her posts are fabulous for those of us who love books, media, libraries and how everything is changing as we have morphed into the Internet age. I have the pleasure of being one of Kathy's dedicated volunteers in the Friends of the Library.

If you have concerns about the future of libraries, I highly recommend her entry from yesterday: Libraries: Thinking the Unthinkable.

Her entry for today is also extremely thought-provoking: Citizen Librarians.

I hope you leave Kathy some feedback in her comments section, but I'm curious what you think.