Larisa – Page 12 – In the Woods

the barista

pygmy rabbit by H. Ulmschneider (BLM) & R. Dixon (IDFG)

This darling little grazing herbivore lives out west, where I have yet to go, and makes her nest inside of a burrow which she digs out for herself. There has been a flurry of activity in our little nest, too. The “new” barista has arrived!

Ever since November when his brother spoiled us by making soy lattes for us every morning, Tim has been on the lookout for an opportunity to purchase a barista secondhand. He finally located a great deal in the city of New York, of all places, and mobilized our daughter, who lives there, into procuring it for him.

Larisa would do anything for her papa and so she made an appointment with the seller and went to pick up the barista and all of its accessories. As she puts it, the buses were not working in her favor that day and she wound up carrying the heavy appliance for ten blocks. When she arrived at the lobby of her six-story walk-up, completely worn out, she called boyfriend Dima to come downstairs and carry it up the stairs for her!

Then it was up to us to plan another expedition to the big city to pick up the barista. This past Saturday turned out to be the best time for all concerned so we rented another car and returned to New York for the second time in the space of a month. But it was a great excuse for another visit and we enjoyed a pleasant afternoon playing a new (to us) card game, Dominion. Dima & Larisa patiently taught us all the rules and by the time we caught on it was time to leave.

The past couple of days our nest has been thrown into a state of disarray as we debated the most logical place to keep this new prized possession. Other small appliances have been moved here and there to make the best use of available outlets and faucets. A shelf unit has come up from the basement to accommodate the slow cooker collection, and a small table that is now too big for the remaining space has been moved out. And of course I couldn’t rest until I redecorated around all these changes…

Perhaps it would be easier to be a bunny and live on a simple diet of sagebrush. But I have to admit, these soy lattes are tasting very good!

strawberry fields

Wondering Rose, this post is for you! I remember when someone visiting the museum where you work asked, “Where’s the museum?” even though he was already in the museum. I was sympathetic to the poor man as it is usually me who gets confused when overwhelmed by crowds, but when we visited our daughter and her boyfriend in New York over the weekend it was my husband who wasn’t keeping up with our guides for the day.

I wanted to see Strawberry Fields, a garden in Central Park that is dedicated to the memory of musician John Lennon. Larisa & Dima led the way into the garden from our first subway stop and there were plenty of signs indicating that we were indeed at the memorial. But Tim was lagging behind and decided to ask a busy gardener, “Where is Strawberry Fields?”

“Never heard of it,” the gardener replied, smiling. But then he pointed over to where Larisa & Dima were standing, a few feet away. It made me wonder how often the good-natured gardener (above photo) has to field such questions! It’s all right, though, the snowdrops surrounding the Cornelian cherry tree (below) seem to be confused as well. They do not usually come up until near the end of February, but our winter has been so mild who could blame them for thinking spring is on the way?

photos by Timothy Rodgers

east village in manhattan

Saturday we took a day trip to New York to visit Larisa & Dima, to see their new digs in Manhattan, an apartment on the top floor of a six-story walk-up. We huffed and we puffed and we made it all the way to the top with just a few pauses to catch our breath! After some refreshments and a tour of their sunlight-filled rooms – a marked advantage to being so far up – we went back down the stairs and then it was a hop, skip and a jump to the subway station, where we purchased our passes and spent the rest of the day zipping around the city.

Our night-owl daughter Larisa has wanted to live in ‘The City That Never Sleeps’ for as long as any of us can remember. As we followed her and Dima here, there, and everywhere, we got the wonderful feeling that she was born to live in New York and is thrilled to be living her dream at last. She certainly worked hard to get there and is making a difference in the lives of others as a social worker.

We spent a good chunk of time in the East Village neighborhood of Manhattan. Since my ancestry is half Ukrainian we visited The Ukrainian Museum. We saw the current exhibition, Borys Kosarev: Modernist Kharkiv, 1915-1931. Kosarev (1897-1994) was a Modernist artist who managed somehow to survive Stalin’s intellectual purges in the 1930s in Ukraine. Outside we found a street named after Taras Shevchenko, a famous Ukrainian poet, artist, illustrator and humanist. I posted one of his poems on my blog several months ago: “My Friendly Epistle“

In the neighborhood we also found the sublime St. George Ukrainian Catholic Church…

The church is across the street from McSorley’s Old Ale House, New York City’s oldest continuously operated saloon, where the likes of Abraham Lincoln, Woody Guthrie and John Lennon have found refreshment and inspiration. The floor is covered with sawdust and the beer was good, Tim reports. (Being gluten-free I could not partake…) Established in 1854, women were not allowed to enter McSorley’s until 1970!

On a side note, several months ago I updated my iPod and suddenly was no longer able to shuffle individual songs on my playlists. Even Tim couldn’t figure out how to do it, and so he suggested that perhaps one of the younger folks could solve the mystery. I handed the iPod to Dima and in a few seconds he handed it back with the problem resolved! Thanks, Dima!! Our trip home was very merry as we sang along with a more varied selection of tunes. It was a great way to end a great day!

photos by Timothy Rodgers

a house full of little ones

Lizzie, 5, made this drawing, a Christmas gift for me
12.31.11 ~ Athol, Massachusetts

Viktor and Aneta Urich of Grande Prairie [Alberta, Canada] welcomed the birth of their 100th grandchild earlier this month – newborn Henry Urich, ninth child of Tatjana and Heinrich Urich. Heinrich is one of Viktor and Aneta’s 16 children.

How does he keep them all straight?

“Good question,” laughs Viktor, 62. “Sometimes when I look, I say ‘What’s your name?'”

(The Canadian Press)

And we thought we were confused!

Yesterday we went to visit Tim’s cousin in Massachusetts, who was hosting a family Christmas gathering. Four generations, ranging in age from 2 to 75 years old. Twenty-seven people in all, including one aunt, four cousins, nine second cousins, two third cousins, and not to be overlooked, six spouses and significant others and five foster children. Or, using another method for sorting the gang out, fifteen adults, three teens and nine little ones. We had but two hours on our way home to sort out the numbers and connections… Not as impressive as the couple in Alberta but…

We did our share of asking, “What’s your name?”

We weren’t there two minutes when little Delyah, 2, inquired “Who are you?” and then put me to work brushing her pony’s hair and fastening barrettes on its tail.

In a little while Nova, 4, sporting sparkly temporary tattoos on her arms, introduced herself and asked me where my tattoos were. (Both her parents have visible tattoos.) I regretted having to disappoint her.

As the afternoon went on, a little one of uncertain age kept saying,”Thanks, Santa,” when Tim would toss one of the balloons her way. Do you think it had something to do with his whitish beard and all the red he was wearing?

It was wonderful seeing everybody again, and meeting new additions to the clan. A clan that adores its children!

Tim & I got ourselves a new camera for Christmas and it was our first chance to use it. So far we’re very pleased with the results and we have so much more to learn about using it!

Hannah, 9, made this pet rock, a Christmas gift for her dad

turkeys, pine cones, snowflakes

"Wild Turkey" by John James Audubon — “Wild Turkey” by John James Audubon

Wednesday night there was a delightful Nature program on PBS, called My Life as a Turkey. I tried to stay awake but kept nodding off. The story is of Joe Hutto’s amazing journey of self-discovery while raising sixteen wild turkey poults to adult turkey-hood. We frequently see wild turkeys in these parts and it was fun learning more about them. Fortunately I can see the parts of the program I missed at this link. Should you decide to watch it, I promise, it will melt your heart!

Thursday morning Larisa called from New York. “Mom! I occupied Wall Street!” You go, girl! (Corporate greed is one of my pet peeves.)

My hand is without bandage now, still red and tender but the surrounding skin was developing a rash from the bandage adhesive which kind of forced the issue.

Tried some recipes in a slow cooker vegan cookbook with mixed results. Tim is happier going back to the Carol Gelles cookbook. He loved the Broccoli Florets & Red Bell Peppers with Black Beans & Garlic! We had it with brown rice. And it was fun cooking it!

Another birdhouse group at the Florence Griswold Museum:
#14. “Back Through the Wardrobe” by Erik Block Design-Build, based on The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe.

Thursday evening Dr. Mel gave his special farewell forecast on WTNH8 TV. He’s been our favorite weather man for well over two decades. We will miss him very much, as he seems like a dear friend, who has advised us wisely through many a storm. He was a meteorology professor before becoming a television weatherman, and taught us many things while reporting the weather. He has battled with multiple myeloma, a cancer of the plasma cells in bone marrow, for many years, far outliving the doctors’ dire predictions that he only had a three-year life expectancy. But lately the cancer has flared up again, forcing him to retire. More about this wonderful man here: Dr. Mel Goldstein

UPDATE: Sadly, Dr. Mel died on January 18, 2012. Rest in peace, our friend.

blue thread

A mood of melancholy has followed me around like a dark cloud the past couple of weeks. It probably has a lot to do with the anticipated move out-of-state for our son and daughter-in-law drawing ever closer.

Tuesday Laurie of Speaking from the Heart, posed the question, “What’s been your most recent surprise?” Well, the night before Tim gave me the dragonfly pendant pictured at the right. Laurie hinted that she wanted to see it, so….

Other recent gifts have been a long phone call from my daughter and of course, this new web domain from my son. I feel blessed and full of gratitude, and yet, still blue. I’m also taking more steps on a path to vegetarianism and am engaged in a pensive, inner spiritual struggle. Planning to write a post about that soon…

Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragonfly
Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky:
So this winged hour is dropped to us from above.
~ Dante Gabriel Rossetti
(Silent Noon)

I went up to visit my father Tuesday, and stayed overnight, returning yesterday morning. Visiting him always leaves me sad as there is so little I can do to make his life easier. My only hope is that my presence somehow makes him feel as comforted as the presence of my own children makes me feel…

Bernie, my sister Beverly, and I took a walk in the woods Wednesday morning. Bernie is showing his age and was in a little funk himself. If you haven’t been introduced to Bernie yet, you can find his story here.

Lately I’ve thought a lot about “my” hemlock tree, which I climbed all the time when I was a child. I loved to sit high up in it and absorb its energy and have now been wondering what its energy would feel like these days. Part of me wants to climb it again, for old times’ sake, but I’d have to bother someone for a ladder to get to the lowest branch and I question my agility and this stage of my life. The tree has been under attack and weakened from an infestation of the hemlock woolly adelgid, which my brother-in-law, who is a botanist, is trying to control. So I took a picture to show where Hurricane Gloria snapped its crown off in 1985. You can see where new growth has filled in above the break, in about the middle of the photo.

When I got home and uploaded the picture I was delighted to find it full of orbs! Orbs have been on my mind recently, too, since seeing Kathy’s picture of a golden brown orb on her post at Lake Superior Spirit. I think the orbs are a good sign that my tree still has some healing energy. Maybe I will bother someone about a ladder… Later on, walking along the path to the mailbox, I thought this little clearing looked pretty so I snapped another picture, and didn’t realize until I got home that it was full of orbs, too.

But that was it for surprise orb photos. The hemlock below has not fared so well, and has become an ideal place for woodpeckers to drill for insects…

I liked the texture I found in a pile of scrap lumber by the shed…

And to end on a more cheerful note, a pretty flowering sedum in Beverly’s rock garden…

in the offing

In all the excitement yesterday I forgot I had a prescription to pick up at the drug store. So… we decided to go get it this morning, even though it was already raining, but with no wind to speak of. Workers were boarding up the large expanse of windows at CVS. I wonder if they will stay open for 24 hours through the storm.

Since we were already out and about we decided to have second breakfast (as Hobbits refer to it) at our favorite restaurant. And then we decided to go to the food co-op for Tim’s sliced almonds. And then we decided we may as well check out the beach before returning home.

On the way we spotted some die-hard golfers, out for one last round! That’s the Thames River behind them, shrouded in mist.

I’m guessing these cormorants were getting a feel for the wind direction. They didn’t fly, they were just standing there with their wings open…

This little house is on a rock island in the Thames River and is the object of much curiosity and speculation. We have never seen people there before, but today these two kayaked out there! When I got home and uploaded my pictures to my laptop, I noticed that there seems to be a wind turbine just behind the bushes! I called Tim over and he had never noticed one there before either. It’s strange that I didn’t even see it while taking the picture.

We drove right up to this seagull. He was unimpressed with us and wasn’t about to leave his post.

This gull had a long and mournful cry…

As I moved closer to him I could see something wrong with his foot, perhaps it was injured and healed in an awkward position. He seemed to know I meant him no harm and allowed me to come very close to him and talk to him.

Later he was waiting patiently, hoping to get a crumb from a woman enjoying one last hot dog before the storm arrives.

On the way home we stopped at Baker Cove and found this tranquil scene…

There have been a few evacuations near us, but so far we’re good to stay. The storm track is a little more to the west, so we’re out of the “red” zone. Now we’re more concerned about Larisa in New York than about us here. There is a high new moon tide coming along with a 6′ storm surge. (We’re 20′ high. If I see water, though, I’m out of here!) Tim has his webcam aimed out the window – wonder what we’ll see?

healing back pain naturally

Tim calls this the Mr. Rochester house, Thornfield Hall, from *Jane Eyre*
7.4.11 ~ Stonington, Connecticut

It’s been a while since I’ve done any blogging, but my back has been getting better by the day. I spent a good deal of time reading Healing Back Pain Naturally: The Mind-Body Program Proven to Work, and Extraordinary Healing: The Amazing Power of Your Body’s Secret Healing System, both by Art Brownstein, MD. The good doctor’s advice and suggestions were just what I needed and were taken to heart.

One thing learned was that quite often a back will act up after a period of stress. That was certainly true with this episode. On the last day of June I reluctantly went in for a routine mammogram. But there have been three false alarms before, when “something suspicious” was seen and I had to go back for a stereotactic biopsy and ultrasounds. Each time there were days and days of waiting, not knowing, and all the waiting and uncertainty made worse by my family history. Happy to report that nothing new was seen on this mammogram, a sigh of relief for a change! But until I knew the result, my muscles must have been tighter than knots, and then trying to distract myself from anxiety by sitting and slouching in front of the computer for a couple of days – it was a perfect recipe for back pain!

So, now I’ve been introduced to my body’s healing system and we’ve been getting to know each other very well. It’s amazing what a shift in thinking can do for our bodies.

Yesterday the kids came over for dinner! Larisa & Dima are settled into their New York City digs and came up here for the day, and Nate & Shea will probably be here in town another month or so before they’re off to Georgia for good. We had such a good time! For some reason it seems that on both sides of our families it’s the men who are the ones who love to cook, and it’s proving true with the next generation, too. Dima made the best deviled eggs I’ve ever had, the filling had avocado, cilantro and lime in it, and a tiny strip of bacon on top. And Nate prepared a fruit salad for dessert, with cantaloupe, raspberries, blueberries, mint leaves and lime zest. Larisa and Tim did their best trying to help me salvage a creamy red pepper sauce (for the pasta) gone horribly wrong – my ineptitude in the kitchen is legendary – I should just buy it in a jar… And Shea kept everyone happy with a mixed drink (I forgot the name of it!) she learned how to make while they were on their cruise.

We’ve had a couple of little thunderstorms and plenty of gloominess and rain today. Wish I could send some of this rain to the places that need it more than we do here…

a mint-condition one-traffic-light river town

6.11.11 ~ Essex, Connecticut — 6.11.11 ~ Griswold Inn, Essex, Connecticut

On Saturday Tim & I were all over the state doing long-distance errands, like visiting a computer show, etc. Larisa & Dima were also all over the state, helping a friend move, etc. For a little bit we were all in Manchester traveling on I-84 westbound at the same time, but did not meet up there. After endless cell phone calls and changing estimated-times-of-arrival and places-to-arrive, we finally met in Essex for a late lunch at the Griswold Inn.

The Perfect Small American Town & Its Oldest Inn
Essex is a mint-condition one-traffic-light river town where the dignified revolutionary-era spirit still lingers – and there’s not a fast food joint in sight.
~ Patricia Schultz
(1,000 Places to See Before You Die)

Now the Griswold Inn is a familiar stomping ground for Tim and Larisa – they are often there on Monday nights enjoying Sea Chanteys and beer. I went once but it was a little too loud and rowdy for my sensitive nature… But it’s a quiet and cozy restaurant in the daytime. The Gris, as it is affectionately called by regulars, is the oldest continuously operating inn in Connecticut, first opened in 1776.

So we had a nice lunch with Dima & Larisa and heard all about their recent scuba diving adventure in Curaçao and the upcoming plans for the move to the big city next month. And then they were off – on to the next thing, zipping around as young adults do. We think Larisa has found in Dima a wonderful companion who shares her wanderlust and sense of adventure. And so we headed home in the pouring rain to recuperate and contemplate.