Chuck

Today is my older brother's birthday. He is one of the most talented people I know. I didn't realize how good he really was until the siblings worked together and fixed up my parents house after they died. I got to work side by side with him, and relished every moment. I have another brother, David who is just as talented. Together they make quit a team.

When Chuck was little, he had to take me whereever he went. That was when we played and rode our bicycles anywhere we wanted to in town. We just had to be home before dark. I think he resented the fact that his kid sister tagged along. I loved it. I got to go and do things that my mom would never have let me.

There was a constant stream of projects in our house. My brother was forever taking his bike apart, fixing it up and putting it together better than new. His skill in woodworking showed up everytime he had a new girlfriend, when he delicately cut their name out of wood. To this day, he works miracles with wood.

I wish I lived closer to him. He would have to let me tagged along. Not because my mom made him, but because I would beg him to.

He's my hero, my brother, my friend.

Teachers

I have been blessed throughout my life with many colorful and interesting teachers. Some academic and some life teachers. Mrs. Bellman was my kindergarten teacher. I don't know why I love her so much. Maybe its because I can actually remember her name after so many years. I loved the building blocks we got to play with every day. I wonder if she had any inkling I would grow up and be an artist.

Mrs Robinson was my first grade teacher for half a year, until she left to have a baby. There were a long line of nuns after her. Sister Mary Immaculate, Sister Mary Donnamae, Sister Mary Jose, Clarence, Francis. My third grade teacher was Mrs. Hickey. I would have made fun of her name, but I didn't know what a hickey was. She tied Kevin Fitzgerald to his desk for not keeping his shoes on.

I think I loved my art teachers the most. Its was the one class I felt at home. Mrs. Little, Ms. Kaloper are two women that where there at just the right time to help me thru the teenage angst of fitting my being into a life that could be productive. Mrs. Little really didn't say much as far as words of wisdom. Looking back I don't think she was much older than I. But she let me hang out in her class and let me be me.

Ms. Kaloper was a rebel nun. I loved the fact that she was "undercover". It was in her class that I blossomed. I not only found art, but found that the creative way was not always the easiest, but it certainly was the path that let me notice the flowers and the weeds along the way. If felt like she taught there for years, when in fact, it was just one. And the best part, is that after all these years, we still touch each others souls in joint creative projects.

Life teachers are God sent. Linda & Paul, Norma, Anne, Paula, Shay, Annette, Jimmy & Jannie, Sol & Bernice, Connie, Dawn and many others. Teachers by example, teachers by words, teachers by tears. We've learned from each other.

My mom was my biggest teacher. She gets a category all her own.

Handwriting

The other day I hand wrote a thank you note to a dear friend. I can't remember the last time I actually wrote something in longhand. It was not easy. I have gotten so used to typing that I just let my fingers do the talking. My letters were scribbly, the lines crooked. I used to get A's for handwriting as a kid.

First grade was printing, but second grade was cursive. I so looked forward to that lesson. Each day we worked on a new capital letter with the corresponding lower case. S's were easy. G's a bit harder. Q made no sense. We used our lined tablets as we wrote over and over again. How to connect letters, how to make the slant just right. Even as a kid, I had a good sense of design, so I know how the letters should line up. The nuns posted the "best" papers on the bulletin board as an example of "good penmanship"

Looking back, it makes me a little sad. Handwriting is so individual and really shows the personality. Right there...tight little letters....tight little people. Big strokes...extrovers. Lisa Twohy was in my class. She was so unique. Even then her persona screamed artist. The only thing that made her look "normal" was the uniforms we had to wear. She had the most beautiful flowing handwriting of anyone I've ever seen. She got a F in penmanship. I have never forgotten that. I was devastaded for her.

I never knew what happened to Lisa. I hope she's an artist. I hope she never changed her handwriting. I hope.

How I Design

I did it again. The design was there just when I needed it, and just as I saw it. After 30 years, you would think I would trust the process. Gather information and let it sit in my brain, and when it is time to sit at my computer and put it together, it will be there, as clear as can be.

When I worked in the graphics department for a large corporatio, it would drive the product managers crazy, when they would check on their project. "When do you need it" I would ask. "Next week" they'd say. "Then it will be ready". I don't know how or when I learned this. I think it has something to do with leaving things to the last minute and always getting it done in the nick of time. I've done it since I was a kid. I always turned my work in on time.

My daughter's the same way. She leaves things to the last second and still gets in done and gets good grades. I haven't told her yet to perfect it. I keep bugging her to be a better planner. yeah right.

So I'm working this wonderful dvd case. Driving down the road, I saw it. I saw the design and how it would look. I couldn't wait to get to the computer to put it together. When I showed the client, I held my breathe, hoping it was what he wanted. Its was. Case closed.

Lists

I have a list of things I want to do when I grow up. I made it when I turned 50. I want to be a writer, a standup comedian, I want to invent something, I want to retire, I want to win the lottery, I want to be a clown. Some of the things I've done. I took a standup comedy class, one of the scariest things I've ever done, and found that I like standing in front of complete strangers, mike in hand and tell funny stories. That one class changed my life forever. I'm not scared of doing hard things, or talking to groups.

This past year, I worked with an inventor on a new toy idea. Its still in the works. If I told you, I'd have to kill you. Top secret. The whole process of working with him, brainstorming was a thrill for me. That too changed my life.

I want to be a writer. I want to publish a book of stories. My stories, from my point of view. That's what this blog is all about. I want to retire someday, so I can volunteer and play lots of tennis. I do that now, but my time is limited. I am trying to win the lottery and play a couple of times a month. I dream of what I would do, if I won.

I've always wanted to be a clown, and I am one. Judy Magoodie. Its a nickname my dad gave me as a small kid. My brothers and sisters all have funny names too. When my dad was sick with Alzheimers, and he couldn't remember me or my name, if I said Judy Magoodie, he would remember, at least for the moment. I get all dressed up, put on my face, and visit nursing homes. I don't do kids parties. They scare me, but I do like going into nursing homes. Its part of my volunteer work with hospice.

I think I need to add more to my list. It would be dreadful if I accomplished everything. What would I have to look forward too?

Shoelaces

An aglet is the small plastic or fiber tube that binds the end of a shoelace (or similar cord) to prevent fraying and to allow the lace to be passed through an eyelet or other opening. This comes from the Latin word for "needle." The shoestring (string and shoe holes) was first invented in England in 1790 (first recorded date March 27). Before shoestrings, shoes were commonly fastened with buckles.

I've never really thought much about shoelaces, until I started this journey of writing 100 words a day for a year, and I was just looking around for inspiration. I thought about my shoes, and how nice it is to pull the laces snug! Then I looked at a picture on the wall of my mom, remembering that wonderful time when she taught me how. Its one of those things in life that gets passed down from generation to generation. I can't remember if she had a song or a rhyme to go with it, but I do remember the proud moment when I accomplished my first independent act of moving on from her. I could do it myself.

When my kids where small I told myself I would never give them shoes with velcro...they would learn to tie their shoes just like I did and generations before me. It wasn't until I had two small kids that I eventually gave in and their little Barbie shoes and Power Rangers won out, and I was saved many hours of needless work. They did eventually learn to tie their shoes.

My mom was right when she taught me how to tie my shoes.....

Tennis match

I had a tennis match today and got my butt whipped. I had the time of my life. I had many really good shots, and I had some really bad ones. I was supposed to be playing tennis, but the way I was hiting the ball way, you'd think I was playing softball. The ones that sang as they came off my racquet were music to my ears. But I had too many, that my adredeline got ahead of my swing and the ball hit the back fence.

But oh my..... my serve was on! I love my serve. Its the one moment in tennis, when everyone is still, waiting and watching for the play to begin. I can pretty much hit it right where I want it. At least I can direct it.....then there is the problem with the net getting in the way, on occasion. After the match, the opponent said "your serve is amazing...I had a hard time tracking it, there was so much kick to it" What i heard was "that was worth the $60 from the pro to tweak it!"

I have a lesson this week. I wonder what we'll work on. I want to get my moneys worth.

Sammi Turns 16

Today my baby girl turned 16. 16! She's all grown up. She is blossoming into a terrific young lady. As much as I want to protect her and beat up anyone that might cross her path, I have to silently, and not so silently stand back as she goes off into the world of possibilities. Tall, sure of herself, with tri-colored hair. Wanting so bad to be pierce and tattoed, but definitely making her mark on mankind already.

I remember moving on from my parents. I never really looked back. Not until I got older, with kids of my own did I realized how hard it was for my mom to let go. Ever since she was born, I knew I was raising her to go away...on her own to make a difference in this big scary world. Its not scary when your 16. Nothing can touch you. Its scary when your 54, and looking back, realizing how close I came to disaster over and over again. But I survived, and so will Sammi. I tell my friends all the time. My daughter is so strong willed. She pushes the edges, she makes mistakes, but she always comes back to center...to her family. and if she reaches adulthood with all her parts, she will be an incredible person.

My friend Sol asked me the other day, "does your daughter know what she wants to be when she grows up" "no, I replied, "not yet" "Good" he said, "she has the whole world to choose from".

Sammi, my daughter, strong willed woman, big heart, full of live and laughter, loyal and overflowing with love.

Watch out world! She's coming.