French Score

Cote Paris, Photo of my Copy

Everyone and her poodle has blogged about this first issue of Cote Paris but I'm still excited that I scored this first issue right here in Houston yesterday afternoon. I was scanning the foreign magazine section at Borders when I heard a woman ask a clerk, "Where are the French magazines," then saw her rudely step between me and the mags.

At that precise moment, I spotted the last copy of Cote Paris on the bottom shelf. I dove between her legs and grabbed the mag as I yelled, "Pardonez moi," frightening the hell out of her and startling Tall Husband.

First Saturday: June

Antique Bunnies, Grace Heart Antiques, Houston, Texas; first bunnies to arrive at The Bunny Bungalow

Tall Husband is, at this moment, planting large pots of white hydrangeas for the front walk of the Bungalow. He is also putting in a watering system for each of the large pots. For my part, I'm staying out of his way.

Today is First Saturday, a big day in the Heights. As we are invited to a good friend's surprise birthday party tonight, I will not be covering the Heights events, but will probably have news from the party, as there will be physicians, musicians, actors and other interesting guests there.

We will attend an antique/classic car show tomorrow. I love old cars, so look for some great shots on Monday's blog.

I Sang With The Ink Spots

Huey Long: front and left

The Heights is a small hip town smack dab in the middle of the fourth largest city in the United States (Houston, Texas). On any given day, we can walk out the front door of The Bunny Bungalow and find adventure. One Saturday, Tall Husband and I were walking down 19th Street, the main drag of the historic downtown Heights, when we heard familiar music.

"Oh my god! That's the Ink Spots," we said.

I had sung my babies to sleep with the Ink Spots' old songs . Well the truth is that they begged me not to sing and promised to go to sleep if I would stop. Sadly, I sing like I dance, however, Tall Husband says that my singing is worse than my dancing.

The music was coming from the Venus Hair Salon. We spotted the poster in their window that announced, "Huey Long of the Ink Spots, Appearing here every Saturday." Sure enough there he was with a CD filling the shop with an Ink Spot classic. I told him about hearing him and his group play in Germany back in the '60's and Tall Husband told him that I know all their songs. Then Huey invited me to sing one, so I sang, "I'm Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter." I don't mean to brag but that was the best I've ever sung. Even Tall Husband said I almost sang in key.

If you're too young to remember the Ink Spots (hell, I'm too young), find their recordings and listen to their smooth melodies. Remember when songs had a melody?

Now I tell people I meet, "You know, I have sung with the Ink Spots," an exaggeration but one should never let the truth stand in the way of a good story.

P.S. Huey Long is 104 years old this year and is the last living original Ink Spot.

Music, Music Everywhere

Bose SoundDock with iPod nano

Some of the Music on my iPod

Last month prior to our visit to Tall Son's, he telephoned to ask that I bring my laptop and some of my favorite CD's to Austin. He was secretive but couldn't fool this mom. I told a friend that my son, the software engineer, was going to put my music on my laptop so that I could listen to it anywhere. What a bright kid! But no! He, my daughter-in-law and Tall Husband were about to push me and my music into the 21st century.

In our family we do not give gifts for birthday's or other occasions unless a superb gift comes along at that time. So, daughter-in-law decided such a gift had come along. I needed an iPod, she thought and Tall Husband thought a portable SoundDock was called for. I was blown away by the gifts. After my son and my twelve-year-old twin granddaughters (read "iPod experts") showed me how to buy some favorite music from iTunes and sync my CD's, I was transported to digital music heaven.

The sound quality of these two products together is intoxicating. I was so tipsy that I grabbed Tall Husband for a dance around daughter-in-law's kitchen but, as you know, I can't dance. Tall Husband just smiled at my exuberance and asked, "What's this? The granny wiggle?"

Haiku And The Horse You Rode In On

Sculpture at Redbud Gallery, Houston, Texas

Haiku And The Horse You Rode In On

Animals kept in a zoo

Books locked in a library

Me with you

by Annie for a friend in pain

I wrote this eons ago for a friend who was going through a divorce. It was written from her perspective. She kept a copy of it above her desk at work and read it aloud when she had to muster courage to face the next fifteen minutes of life. She subsequently remarried, has a happy family and cannot even remember what's his face.

Yes, yes, I know. My haiku doesn't follow the 5/7/5 haiku rule but few written in English do. It breaks a lot of other rules too. However, my friend said that these words helped her through a tough time.

A Penny For Your Thoughts

Heads

The teacher, psychologist and I arrived at *Jack's home to meet him and his mother. When Jack's mother had set the appointment, she had expressed concern about her almost three-year-old son's lack of speech and "other strange things about Jack."

As we seated ourselves and the floor and unpacked our evaluation toys we noted that Jack sat some distance from us and did not seek the comfort of his mother, as a child usually does when strangers arrive in the home. We learned that Jack's six-year-old sister had recently died of cancer after a long illness and that his parents had divorced just prior to the girl's death.

Jack sat with his small hands clenched into fists and warily listened as his mother related that he never spoke and that he constantly held pennies in each hand. These behaviors interfered with his learning, having friends and were about to get him expelled from kindergarten. He would occasionally transfer the pennies to one hand for a task but no amount of pleading could get him to put them down.

After the evaluation, we developed strategies to address Jack's speech skills. "But what about the pennies?" his mother asked. And then with obvious difficulty, "Is he autistic?"

We asked for time to think about the pennies and the psychologist assured her that we had not observed any behaviors that would suggest that Jack was autistic. I explained that when a child's communication skills improve, undesirable behaviors often fade. The pennies did puzzle us though.

That evening, just like any other evening, I opened the bedside drawer to put away my watch. Then I noticed it: an old aspirin tin. Seeing it was an epiphany. Just like Jack's pennies, that aspirin tin had been my constant childhood companion. Jack was clutching his pennies for the same reasons I had needed that aspirin tin.

The next day I told my colleagues that I knew why Jack was attached to the pennies. Those pennies were his attempt at preserving the status quo. He had been unable to hang onto to his sister or his father and he had lost his mother to her grief. He was left with only pennies to hang on to. We were not to take them from him.

When we explained this to Jack's mother, she was brilliant. She came up fighting for her son. This was a battle she could win. She began by telling his school that they were to ignore his lack of speech and his pennies. She asked me to bring a "pocket penny" for Jack. During subsequent therapy sessions, Jack sat snug up against his mother as we played with therapy toys on the floor. One day he decided that his pennies could go into his pocket with his "pocket penny." And then he began to speak in long, glorious sentences.

Objects, things, our stuff are pinch hitters for better times and places. They are surrogates for absent loved ones. They are therapy for our often fractious lives. Jack learned this early.


*Not his real name

YSL

Yves Saint Laurent
1936-2008

Mr. Saint Laurent, I shall miss knowing that you are in the world.