House With a Past

Thank you old house for imparting your secrets!
I'm sure you remember Robin William, in Dead Poets Society, telling the students to listen closely to what the old photographs are whispering:

"But if you listen real close,
you can hear them whisper their legacy to you.
Go on, lean in. Listen, you hear it? - - Carpe - - hear it? - -
Carpe, carpe diem, seize the day!"
That's exactly the same feeling I get when browsing through all the old papers that came with the house.

As Walt Whitman writes in "Song of the Open Road":

You rows of houses! you window-pierc’d façades! you roofs!
You porches and entrances! you copings and iron guards!
You windows whose transparent shells might expose so much!
You doors and ascending steps! you arches!
You gray stones of interminable pavements! you trodden crossings!
From all that has touch’d you I believe you have imparted to yourselves, and now would impart the same secretly to me,
From the living and the dead you have peopled your impassive surfaces, and the spirits thereof would be evident and amicable with me. . . .

Whoever you are, come forth! or man or woman come forth!
You must not stay sleeping and dallying there in the house, though you built it, or though it has been built for you.
~ Selected lines from Parts 3 and 13 ~
These and more can be found on my
NEW FORTNIGHTLY BLOG POST
~ House With a Past ~

The Fortnightly Kitti Carriker:
A Fortnightly [every 14th & 28th] Literary Blog of
Connection & Coincidence; Custom & Ceremony

P.S. Related post on my book blog

8 June 2007

Few But Choice

Choose thy friends like thy books;
few but choice.
James Howell
~ Cross Stitch by Linda Jeffries~

Bringing you up to date on
kittislist.blogspot.com

January: McCartney Library ~ Carriker Collection
My Library

February: Heart & Soul
Parable & Fable

March: Lovely As A Tree
Poems, old & new

Contract With the Reader

Two Women Reading on the Verandah
Ingham, North Queensland, Australia ~ ca. 1894-1903
photo by Harriett Pettifore Brims, 1864-1939 (below left)

If you're looking for something to read, here's
what I've posted in the past few months on
kittislist.blogspot.com:

Reading Buddies

Fiction: Appraising and Grasping the World

A Tree of God

Sixteen Years Ago & Still So Sad

" 'Is it possible to write a reverent novel,' said Nassrin,
'and to have it be good? Besides, the contract with the reader
is that this is not reality, it's an invented world.
There must be some blasted space in life,' she added crossly,
'where we can be offensive, for God's sake' "
(p 50 -- read more).
from Reading Lolita in Tehran
by Azar Nafisi

Spring Hopes Eternal

Happy Vernal Equinox!
Wishing you a world in perfect balance
& a season of symmetry!
Hope springs eternal! Spring hopes eternal!

Outdoor . . .

and Indoor . . .

Labyrinths at Grace Cathedral, San Francisco

Stand right in the middle . . .

. . . and look up . . .

. . . the ribbons were still there!

When I visited on Mardi Gras ~ 4 March 2014 ~

walking on the ribbon shadows was mesmerizing!

So thrilled to discover that the ribbons had remained up
so far into the Spring, so much longer than expected!
So glad I got the chance to bear witness
on Mardi Gras / Ash Wednesday.
A truly mystical, cosmic experience!

Click to learn more about the Grace Cathedral Ribbon Installation
and to see more photos in my album Points West

Time Fulfilled

One of the best places for St. Patrick's Day Greetings:
jacquielawson.com
I sent the above e-card to my friend Beata a few years ago, when I was in England and she was having a quiet Spring Break at home. She e-mailed back to say that her St. Patrick's Day had been an ordinary, unmemorable day.

Unmemorable perhaps, but described in such a memorable way! I saved her note because I knew that her eloquent description of a day well - spent belonged on my Quotidian blog! And I just had a feeling that she might want to re-read it some time in the future (today!) and recollect the long forgotten, peaceful, pre - Spring day she enjoyed with her family five years ago. Beata, do you remember?

Wednesday, 18 March 2009
Dear Kitti,

Thank you for the lovely card. Every time I get one of these from you I enjoy it. I really wish I could jump into this scene! It is very, very poetic.

Here at home, we are blessed with beautiful weather by the Leprechauns' special order. You need to ask them why they are so generous, because only they know the answer. In my garden, I saw four snowdrops blooming and a few other varieties from last year which I had been told would survive only one season. I am glad to see them return to life. This is a good sign of spring coming to Indiana.

I wish I could work in the garden or go to the gym, but I need badly to finish my paper for my class. It's slowly progressing. I have to finish my second draft by tomorrow - that's what I promised myself.

I had a good time at Burnett School today, giving a puppet show for the kindergarten classes. The children liked our presentation and asked many questions. Later, I played with my cats; Johnny went to David's after practice to work on their project; Fabio went his way: to see the dentist, to his office, and finally to the kitchen to ask what's for dinner.

You see, bits and pieces, nothing special, nothing extraordinary, a day which I am sure I will not remember but what makes time fulfilled.

I hope you enjoy your stay.
Greetings to everyone!
Thinking of you,

Beata

[saved in gmail / Beata Letters Juno/ 12 - 11 - 10]

Beata & Kitti at the Gym
. . . and since it IS St. Patrick's Day . . .
look closely at my white turtleneck and you'll see
a tiny green shamrock, courtesy of Notre Dame!

See also
"Czeslaw Milosz"
&
"Intellectual Cup of Lyrics"

The Wire Brush of Doubt

Last Full Moon Before the Vernal Equinox
Thanks to my friend Burnetta & her friend Craig for sharing these words, so timely as we anticipate the nearing spring, even as the temperatures remain below freezing!

. . . This is the time to be slow,
Lie low to the wall
Until the bitter weather passes.

Try, as best you can, not to let
The wire brush of doubt
Scrape from your heart
All sense of yourself
And your hesitant light.

If you remain generous,
Time will come good;
And you will find your feet
Again on fresh pastures of promise,
Where the air will be kind
And blushed with beginning.

lines from "A Blessing for the Breakup of a Relationship"
found in To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings
by Irish poet & priest John O'Donohue, 1956 - 2008

~ blushed with beginning ~

Dream House

814: Dream House
Certainly in my life, there are a couple of old houses that I would like to re-visit, to be greeted with open arms by the current resident and welcomed inside to relive my past. Houses that come back to me in dreams. Looking for poems that capture those mixed feelinsg of inaccessibility and familiarity, I came across this website of the best old house poems ever:

Love After Love
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

by Derek Walcott, b. 1930
Saint Lucian poet and playwright; professor at the University of Essex
1992 Nobel Prize Recipient

To My Old Addresses
. . . O
My old addresses! O my addresses! Are you addresses still?
Or has the hand of Time roughed over you
And buffered and stuffed you with peels of lemons, limes, and shells
From old institutes? If I address you
It is mostly to know if you are well.
I am all right but I think I will never find
Sustenance as I found in you, oh old addresses
Numbers that sink into my soul
Forty-eight, nineteen, twenty-three, O worlds in which I was alive!

by Kenneth Koch, 1925 - 2002 [pronounced "coke"]
American poet, playwright, professor
(see previously posted poem by Koch & another by Larkin)

These poems and more can be found on my
NEW FORTNIGHTLY BLOG POST
~ House Sisters ~

The Fortnightly Kitti Carriker:
A Fortnightly [every 14th & 28th] Literary Blog of
Connection & Coincidence; Custom & Ceremony

P.S.
You'll notice that this week, I posted early -- on March 12th --
in celebration of my friend Vicky's birthday!
Happy Birthday to my House Sister!

Parable for Daylight Time & Lent

First Sunset of Daylight Savings Time
" . . . traveling from day to night only, neither forward nor sideward . . . "
Parable
First divesting ourselves of worldly goods, as St. Francis teaches,
in order that our souls not be distracted
by gain and loss, and in order also
that our bodies be free to move
easily at the mountain passes, we had then to discuss
whither or where we might travel, with the second question being
should we have a purpose, against which
many of us argued fiercely that such purpose
corresponded to worldly goods, meaning a limitation or constriction,
whereas others said it was by this word we were consecrated
pilgrims rather than wanderers: in our minds, the word translated as
a dream, a something-sought, so that by concentrating we might see it
glimmering among the stones, and not
pass blindly by; each
further issue we debated equally fully, the arguments going back and forth,
so that we grew, some said, less flexible and more resigned,
like soldiers in a useless war. And snow fell upon us, and wind blew,
which in time abated — where the snow had been, many flowers appeared,
and where the stars had shone, the sun rose over the tree line
so that we had shadows again; many times this happened.
Also rain, also flooding sometimes, also avalanches, in which
some of us were lost, and periodically we would seem
to have achieved an agreement; our canteens
hoisted upon our shoulders, but always that moment passed, so
(after many years) we were still at that first stage, still
preparing to begin a journey, but we were changed nevertheless;
we could see this in one another; we had changed although
we never moved, and one said, ah, behold how we have aged, traveling
from day to night only, neither forward nor sideward, and this seemed
in a strange way miraculous.
And those who believed we should have a purpose
believed this was the purpose, and those who felt we must remain free
in order to encounter truth, felt it had been revealed.

By Louise Glück, winner of the Pulitzer Prize
and author, most recently, of A Village Life

This poem appears on the New York Times list of six poems for the end of daylight savings time, along with others by W. S. Merwin and Vijay Seshadri; Mary Oliver, James Tate, and Derek Walcott. It is a fascinating assortment of poetry that I have already referred to a few times, all just right for the shift in time and light that occurs each November. I think, however, that Gluck's "Parable" is, if anything, even more perfect for the beginning of daylight time, as well as the beginning of Lent.

Daniel Bosch at Arts Fuse comments on Gluck's poem (and the other five) without even grasping the connection that "falling back" refers to the annual conclusion of daylight savings time and the reversion to standard time. Duh! He wonders if he missed "some sort of equinox" or "sunspots." No! You just missed re - setting your clock to match the season!

Rather unkindly, Bosch suspects that admirers of Gluck's "Parable" "do not know as many poets as I do." Yet I wonder if perhaps he does not follow the passing seasons with the same verve and precision as Gluck, Merwin, Oliver, and I do.

P.S. Some closing thoughts
from Leonard Orr & Nova Languages
9 November 2010
Len: You are right; I read it in the times and thought it was great to find such a grouping of poems in the major newspaper. Now if only they did this regularly not only for seasons but for each month, major events, solstices and equinoxes, the start and end of Daylight Savings Time, elections, New Year's, the release of the new press of Beaujolais, TuBishvat, and dozens of other occasions.

Nova Languages: I completely agree. I especially like the idea of a group of poems celebrating solstices and equinoxes; but also for many other astronomical events, not to mention planetary events. What a great way to learn about these things! This brings to mind these often quoted lines from William Carlos Williams: "It is difficult to get the news from poems, yet men die miserably every day for lack of what is found there."

Len: That sounds much better than the Times motto "All the News that's fit to print." Even there they would have been improved by consulting poets.

Click for
additional comments
from facebook post.

And
another sunset poem: "The Evening Star"
also "Iris" & "Penelope"

One Day You'll Find This Picture

Our Yearbook Pictures
Junior Year at Francis Howell High School Fall 1973

"Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence, a time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you"

lyrics from
"Bookends" by Simon & Garfunkel
Back in the summer of 1995, at our twentieth high school reunion, the most ironic thing happened; or maybe it was just plain uncanny. One friend had remembered to bring along a Senior yearbook, and as we thumbed through the pages, a loose photograph fluttered to the floor, landing face down. Shaking our heads sadly, we read the poignant and strangely true inscription, in Marilyn's familiar curly cursive:

“We may see each other again or we may not,
but one day, you’ll find this picture in your attic
and remember your old friend ~ Marilyn"
How painful it was to kneel down and pick that picture up, to turn it over and see Marilyn's eternally young smile, to imagine her writing that haunting sentiment. Sad enough for those of us who knew, but even more shocking for the few classmates in the crowd who, until that moment, had been unaware of her untimely death from ovarian cancer a year and a half earlier. Gone too soon.

Yet she was there with us that day, telling us a story! I shouldn't have been surprised. Marilyn was always recommending something good for me to read or telling me about a poet I should have known about but didn't, always raising my consciousness! A true friend! How appropriate that the forgotten photo came to light twenty years later, not in an attic, but in the midst of a gathering of friends. Indeed, as she had predicted, we all stood transfixed for a moment remembering our old friend ~ Marilyn.

A week ago, I included one of my favorite memories of Marilyn in my current Fortnightly post "A Heart That Watches and Receives." Do you remember that lush and hazy song from the 70s -- "The Air That I Breathe." Marilyn used to say, "What? No books to read? That can't be right!"

Whenever we happened to hear it on the radio, Marilyn would always express her dismay. She was torn; she wanted to like it; but why No books to read? What kind of paradise would that be?" No sleep -- okay. Nothing to eat -- okay. But no books? Not okay!"

Although it is still a favorite, I never hear it without the memory of Marilyn's wise words!

The Air That I Breathe
[click to listen]
If I could make a wish, I think I'd pass
Can't think of anything I need
No cigarettes, no sleep, no light, no sound
Nothing to eat, no books to read . . .

Sometimes
All I need is the air
That I breathe
And to love you . . .

sung by The Hollies
written by Albert Louis Hammond / Mike Hazlewood
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing
Copyright: Imagem Songs Ltd.

Click to read these
once & future reminiscences:
Since Yesterday
Celebrity Look Alike
Birthday Present
What You Might Call Beautiful
Happy 448th to William Shakespeare
Nativity
Rainbow Trail

Losing Strength, Not Style

and see photo album:
My Friend Marilyn, 1957 ~ 1993

What the World Needs

Memories of the Garden at Etten*

Vincent Van Gogh (1853 – 1890)
Post-Impressionist painter of Dutch origin

“Don’t ask yourself what the world needs.
Ask yourself what makes you come alive
and then go do that.
Because what the world needs
is people who have come alive.”

Howard Thurman (1899 - 1981)
African American author, theologian, educator

*************I discovered this particular Van Gogh one day when googling "Garden of Eden" -- even though "Etten" has nothing to do with "Eden." It just goes to show how sometimes when you search for one thing, you find another?!

The First [Mild] Day of March

"It is the first mild day of March:
Each minute sweeter than before"

"Come forth, and bring with you a heart
that watches and receives."
~ William Wordsworth ~
Major English Romantic Poet
The first of March! It may not be the first mild day of March, but whether the weather be lion or lamb the first of March is here, a day often associated with the New Year and new beginnings. As Wordsworth says, we have before us a day of "blessing," an "hour of feeling." I like the way that he feels free to discount January and February as not quite living up to his expectations:

No joyless forms shall regulate
Our living calendar:
We from to-day, my Friend, will date
The opening of the year.
For Wordsworth, it is the long - awaited month of March that captures "the spirit of the season" and sets the true course for the remainder of the year. He doesn't want his sister, or anyone else, to miss out on his sense of urgency and certainty that "One moment now may give us more / Than years of toiling reason":

Some silent laws our hearts will make,
Which they shall long obey:
We for the year to come may take
Our temper from to-day.
For more on this poem, as well as
"The Tables Turned: An Evening Scene on the Same Subject"
by Wordsworth

and

"The Air That I Breathe,"
by The Hollies

See my new blog post:
"A Heart That Watches and Receives"
on
The Fortnightly Kitti Carriker
A fortnightly [every 14th & 28th]
literary blog of connection & coincidence;
custom & ceremony

****************

Previous March First Posts
2010: Kiss Me & Kiss Today & Dear March

2011: My Vegetable Love

2012: Love However Brief

2013: Beyond Ideas
Photo from last year ~ March 1, 2013
Thanks George Sfedu

Additional Martisor folklore from George:
Romanians have a beautiful ancient tradition on the first day of March : Martisor (The Amulet). Its name is a diminutive from the name of Martie - the Romanian word for March.

Every year the festive day of March 1 brings back to us renewed hopes, confidence, faith in good fortune and a prosperous life. It is life, spring and the shining sun which win the battle against chilly weather, overcast skies and the nasty, cold days of the “Babele” (old women - the first 9 days in March).

This triumph of rebirth and regeneration cannot be better embodied but in the Martisor which is offered to loved ones in early spring. The white and red thread of this amulet which parents customarily tie around their children's wrist, young men offer to young women, and young women exchange among themselves is believed to bring good luck and health.

"The Martisor is offered early morning on the first day of March; it is worn for 9-12 days, sometimes until the first tree blooms, when it is hung on a flowering branch to bring good luck to its bearer."

Additional Martisor Blog Posts
2014: The First [Mild] Day of March

2015: Wind from a Leaf

2016: Reading the Obituaries

2017: Piano Bar

2018: The Sweetheart Tree

2019: Flora or Fish?

2020: The Once and Future Guenever

2021: Felix Anno Novo

2022: March Begins: The Heart's Desire

2023: Happy Martisor Day!

Wintry Chicago

Mystical night lights . . .
taken at the Corner of State & Wacker . . .

and again the next morning, taken with color film
on a very gray day . . . so gray in fact that the
yellow and red taxis and green banners seem to be
colored in with crayon on a black & white print!

For more pictures, please enjoy my photo album:
Wintry Chicago
The Chicago Poem
for Ted Berrigan & Alice Notleythe bridges of Chicago
are not the bridges of Paris
or the bridges of Amsterdam
except they are a definition
almost no one bothers to define
like life full of surprises
in what now looks to be the oldest
modern American city
o apparition of the movie version of
the future circa 1931
the bridges soon filled with moving lines
of people workers' armies
in the darkness of first December visit
along the water
bend of the Chicago River
the cliffs of architecture like palisades
at night the stars in windows
stars in the poem you wrote a sky
through which the el train pulls its lights
in New York streets of childhood
is like a necklace (necktie) in the language of
old poems old memories
old Fritz Lang visions of the night before
the revolution the poor souls
of working people we all love
fathers or uncles
lost to us in dreams & gauze
of intervening 1960s
there are whole tribes of Indians
somewhere inhabiting
a tunnel paradise
they will wait it out still
with a perfect assurance of things to come
everyone so well read in old novels
maybe the economics of disaster Ted
depressions of the spirit
so unlike the bright promise of
the early years
gloss of the young life easing death
atop a hill in Lawrence Kansas
the afternoon sky became aluminum
(illumination)
played on a tambourine to calm
the serpent fear
the material corpse that leaves us vulnerable
everyone will come to it I think
I do not think you dig it
getting so out of hand so far away
but we remain & I will
make another visit soon
hope we can take a walk
together it is night & we are
not so bad off have turned forty
like poets happy with our sadness
we are still humans in a city overhung
with ancient bridges
you pop your pill I laugh
look back upon the future of
America & remember
when we both wrote our famous poems called
Modern Times

by Jerome Rothenberg

The Poetry Foundation
at Dearborn & Superior

Be Gentle When You Touch Bread

Card / Poster from one of my favorite companies:
The Printery House ~ Conception Abbey ~ Missouri

A nice prayer for Friday, Saturday, Sunday or any day:

Be gentle when you touch bread.
Let it not lie uncared for, taken for granted or unwanted.

There is such beauty in bread,
Beauty of sun and soil, Beauty of patient toil.
Winds and rain caressed it,
Christ often blessed it
Be gentle when you touch bread.

***************
A year or so ago, my friend Rozena, who lives and works and writes in Paris, posted this sweet anecdote:

"Back safely in gay Paris, thanks in large part to an 84 - year - old man with a cane who insisted on carrying my suitcase up two flights of stairs. Apparently after fighting in WWII and doing something - something french - accent - I - don't - understand - something in Province, that's the shit that keeps you young."

I loved Rozena's story and recommended that she save it for a future magazine article. It struck a chord with me because I had recently had a similar experience at the supermarket, loading up my car with donated day - old bread to take to the Food Pantry. My 80 - something guy was having a cup of coffee at the little Starbucks counter that is inside our grocery store, right near the bakery. He asked where I was going with all that bread, and then volunteered to help me wheel it out to my car. When we were done, he said, "Well, I better get back in there and pay for my coffee."

There was something so straightforward about his chivalry and so trusting about his closing remark, like a scene right out of Pleasantville or Mayberry R.F.D. It totally made my day. Maybe it was because a kind stranger had just been so gentle about bread.

Delivery Day

Kiss Pie!

Before the Valentine Season Slips Away
Now seems like as good a time as any to explain why, in our family, we say "Kiss Pie!"

Back when my younger son Sam (now 20) was about 3, he came bursting in one day and said, "Splash pie in Mommy's face!" I never did know the origin of that particular exclamation -- maybe something he heard (or mis-heard) on a cartoon show or something one of his little friends said (?).

As for the origin of "Kiss Pie," after Sam's "Splash Pie" greeting, I gave Sam a kiss on the top of the head and said, "Kiss pie on Sam's head." We did that back and forth for a few weeks or months, and from that point on, the phrase became embedded in our family lingo and gradually shortened to "Kiss Pie!" as a kind of all-purpose way to say "Good night" or "Good bye" or "Love you" or "Awwwwww!"

Visiting Sam's classroom during the Late "Splash Pie" Era

Kiss Pie, Indeed!
Peppermint Christmas Pie ~ Cheesecake Factory ~ Chicago

"We must have a pie.
Stress cannot exist in the presence of a pie."
~ David Mamet ~

"Don't say you're full before you've seen the pie."
~ Russian Proverb ~
P.S.
See also "Do I Dare to Eat a Peach?"
& "A Pie for Your Thoughts"

Gold Days, Gold Friends

So far, 2014 has been a great year for reunions with old friends. I have been lucky enough to spend

Martin Luther King Day
with my friend Etta in Chicago,
at Woodfield Mall (Schaumburg):

back in 1970

the day before Valentine's
with my friend Sheri in Chicago,
at her family's restaurant, Topo Gigio:

back in 1982

and Presidents Day
with my friend Cyndee in Salt Lake City,
on Temple Square & at the University of Utah:

back in 1969

These three reunions reminded me of three enduring songs about the good old days.

First, from Gordon Lightfoot:

"Did She Mention My Name"
It's so nice to meet an old friend and pass the time of day
And talk about the home town a million miles away
Is the ice still on the river, are the old folks still the same
And by the way, did she mention my name
Did she mention my name just in passing
And when the morning came,
do you remember if she dropped a name or two
Is the home team still on fire, do they still win all the games
And by the way, did she mention my name

Is the landlord still a loser, do his signs hang in the hall
Are the young girls still as pretty in the city in the fall
Does the laughter on their faces still put the sun to shame
And by the way, did she mention my name

Did she mention my name just in passing
And when the talk ran high,
did the look in her eye seem far away
Is the old roof still leaking when the late snow turns to rain
And by the way, did she mention my name

Did she mention my name just in passing
And looking at the rain,
do you remember if she dropped a name or two
Won't you say hello from someone, they'll be no need to explain
And by the way, did she mention my name

Second, from Chicago:

"Old Days"
Old days
Good times I remember
Fun days
Filled with simple pleasures
Drive-in movies
Comic books and blue jeans
Howdy Doody
Baseball cards and birthdays
Take me back
To a world gone away
Memories
Seem like yesterday

Old days
Good times I remember
Gold days
Days I'll always treasure
Funny faces
Full of love and laughter
Funny places
Summer nights and streetcars
Take me back
To a world gone away
Boyhood memories
Seem like yesterday

Old days - in my mind and in my heart to stay
Old days - darkened dreams of good times gone away
Old days - days of love and feeling fancy free
Old days - days of magic still so close to me
Old days - in my mind and in my heart to stay
Old days - darkened dreams of good times gone away
Old days - days of love and feeling fancy free
Old days - days of magic still so close to me

Third, the couplet that I always think of whenever I hear Chicago sing "Old days . . . Gold days":

Make new friends,but keep the old.
One is silver, the other is gold.
I was never involved in scouting, so I never knew this as a Girl Scout Song, but only as a rhyme that my children sang at the conclusion of their University City Arts League music class:

Make new friends,
but keep the old.
One is silver,
the other is gold.

A circle is round,
it has no end.
That's how long,
I will be your friend.

A fire burns bright,
it warms the heart.
We've been friends,
from the very start.

You have one hand,
I have the other.
Put them together,
We have each other.

Silver is precious,
Gold is too.
I am precious,
and so are you.

You help me,
and I'll help you
and together
we will see it through.

The sky is blue
The Earth is green
I can help
to keep it clean

Across the land
Across the sea
Friends forever
We will always be.

The lyrics appear consistently marked as Anonymous. However, I did come across a rather interesting friendship blog that attributes this somewhat different version to Welsh composer and musician Joseph Parry (1841-1903).

Make new friends, but keep the old;
Those are silver, these are gold.

New-made friendships, like new wine,
Age will mellow and refine.

Friendships that have stood the test --
Time and change -- are surely best;

Brow may wrinkle, hair grow gray,
Friendship never knows decay.

For 'mid old friends, tried and true,
Once more we our youth renew.

But old friends, alas! may die,
New friends must their place supply.

Cherish friendship in your breast--
New is good, but old is best;

Make new friends, but keep the old;
Those are silver, these are gold.

Our fun music teacher Heather
who taught the boys to sing,
"Make New Friends"
Philadelphia ~ 1998

Happy Snowy Valentine's Day!

Plow & Hearth Birdseed Wands

For a few quasi - cynical Valentine thoughts, check out my new Fortnightly Post

Inordinately Realistic

on
The Fortnightly Kitti Carriker
A fortnightly [every 14th & 28th]
literary blog of connection & coincidence;
custom & ceremony

P.S. ~ FYI"This year, the full moon falls on February 14, Valentine’s Day. The phases of the moon recur on (or near) the same calendar dates every 19 years. So the full moon won’t come on Valentine’s Day again until February 14, 2033! After that, a Valentine’s Day full moon will occur on February 14, 2052, on February 14, 2071 and February 14, 2090!"
~ from EarthSky

P.S.S.
My friend Joni took this picture of the
~ Full moon over the Jaffa Gate, Jerusalem ~
"Especially for you Kitti for your collection of moon pics"
Thanks Joni!

By contrast, here are my shots of the same full moon,
taken in Chicago

Covered Bridge

Christmas Card
from Uncle Wayne Mesneak

Last year I told my cousin Maggie that I wanted to find this card, written by her father -- my Uncle Wayne -- many years ago. I wanted her to see it, and I knew I had saved it, because I was so touched by his efforts to carry on the holiday traditions even without my Aunt Frances, who had died earlier in the year. Over the weekend, when putting away Christmas decorations, I started looking through the cards I had saved from the 1990s, and there it was. Despite the sadness it conveys, it also did our hearts good to reminisce.

Maggie wrote: "Oh Kitti, this made me cry. Daddy had such a hard year without her. We went to a restaurant for dinner that year because he didn't want to celebrate. So happy they are together now. Thank you for posting and saving this. I love you! Kitti cuz, you probably know this, but my mother just loved covered bridges; it is so sweet that Daddy used a card with a covered bridge on it. And it is wonderful to see his writing. It is funny how we can instantly identify the handwriting of our loved ones. I think he did a great job for a grade school education."

My cousin Maggie with her Dear Parents.
This is exactly how I remember
Aunt Frances and Uncle Wayne!

P.S.
Thanks to my friend Barbara Tilley, who commented:
"You are an extraordinary archivist.
This is a beautiful card, and I love covered bridges."
A few people asked who drew the picture of the covered bridge, and I would like to be able to acknowledge the artist, but as with so much of the really beautiful 19th - 21st C British & American Christmas Card art, this one is unattributed! It merely says, "A Sunshine Card / Made in U.S.A." I will never understand that practice! This is someone's handi-work! Please tell us who left behind the legacy of these lovely brush strokes! I always feel the same when looking through some of the lovely historical Christmas books that my sister - in - law Tina and I have given each other over the years. So many of the classic scenes -- children, fashion, home decor, holly greens, sledding and snow, quaint villages -- simply say "Anon." It's disappointing not to know the artists' names, but how lucky for us to be able to enjoy their talent decades -- even centuries -- later.

The Fish Hatchery, Neosho

"The Fish Hatchery Neosho ~ 1912"
by Thomas Hart Benton, American painter and muralist
born in Neosho, Missouri on 15 April 1889
died in Kansas City on 19 January 1975
For the past couple of weeks, some of my friends have been playing a kind of tag - you're - it art game on facebook. Your friend names an artist and you post a painting E.g., when I received Georgia O'Keeffe, I pulled up an old favorite; and when I received Fra Anjelico, I learned something new (click here or scroll down).

I was most excited when my childhood neighbor Rebecca gave me an artist from our home town of Neosho, Missouri: Thomas Hart Benton. We grew up proud of his artwork and his famous family. Some of our friends attended Maecenas Eason Benton Elementary, named for his father, the U.S. Representative for Missouri (from 1897 - 1905). Becky and I and our siblings were just as pleased to attend Eugene Field Elementary, named for the St. Louis poet.

There are various examples of Benton's artwork around Neosho, and I was all ready to share a photograph of his ceramic tile mural on the side of the former Safeway store, across the street from Big Spring Park. Not only did we love it as kids, but I even took my kids there to see it one summer, on a family vacation:

Sam & Ben acting out the scene on the mural
on the side of the old Safeway Store
Labor Day Weekend, 2002 ~ Neosho, Missouri
However, as I got ready to post my example of Thomas Hart Benton's work, I learned that I have been mistaken all these years! This well - remembered mural is NOT by Thomas Hart Benton! It was commissioned and designed by local artist Lawrence J. “Larry” Sanchez, who had studied at the Boston Museum School of Fine Arts and won a mural-design contest sponsored by Safeway Stores. Mr. Sanchez, my apologies for the confusion!

Of course, I still admire the mural as much as ever, but I realized that in order to fulfill my art quest assignment, I would need to search further. There are so many to choose from, but I settled on "The Fish Hatchery" because if there's anything that defined our growing up in Neosho besides Thomas Hart Benton and George Washington Carver and Eugene Field and Big Spring Park and Fort Crowder and Rocketdyne . . . it was The Fish Hatchery!

I was sure that Rebecca would approve of my choice, and even though it was totally new to both of us, we immediately agreed that "The Fish Hatchery" has to be the quintessential Thomas Hart Benton painting: local artist, local watering hole, local color, local beauty, local peace of mind!

Rebecca said, "Yes. I've never seen this painting before, but I love it. So much of his work is action - oriented and masculine. This is peaceful, sweet and gently rendered, and the subject is a place I remember from so many elementary school field trips. Thank you so much for finding this."

All of our Neosho friends agreed, if you went to school in Neosho, you've certainly been on a field trip to the Fish Hatchery! It really was the perfect in - town getaway, just as Benton has portrayed it, though the painting doesn't really capture the fishy aroma, yet another memory that shall never fade!

P.S.
For a view more scenes of the good life in Neosho,
see my photo albums:
Neosho, Missouri & Few Acres

P.S.S.
Burnetta wrote to say:
"I love Thomas Hart Benton, and Steve and I visited the hatchery on a scavenger hunt for my 60th. It was an awesome birthday surprise. We also went to the largest planter."

Yes, of course! How could I have forgotten Neosho's nickname
and it's famous gigantic Flower Box!