A Summer Place

Liam enjoying our summer place

There's a summer place
Where it may rain or storm
Yet I'm safe and warm........
Theme from A Summer Place 1959

I played the record of that song, the instrumental version by Percy Faith http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/heartsinatlantis/themefromasummerplace.htm
before school each morning in grammar school. Always made the start of the day dreamy and hopeful, an anxiety reducer way before paxil. Of course, in the early1960's, when I was playing this song there were no IPods, no way to have a private, in your own ear experience, so the entire family was included in my listening. Why? The phonograph (newbies might have to go to Merriam Webster online) http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/phonograph was in the living room, we had no den. Seems the ritual playing of A Summer Place each school morning was tolerated, as I do not remember grumbling from the family.

We now have our "Summer Place" behind our house. It is Liam and me, a mere 50 years later.
Our backyard cannot be classified as a garden, much as I would like. it to be. I have created little spaces that may be characterized broadly as mini gardens, or maybe termed garden-like indentations, populated with whimsical plants, statues, mosaic stepping stones, birdhouses, wind chimes-all artsy and culturally diverse. Many are gifts and give the pleasure of connection as seeing them evokes the person who gifted us and the knowledge that these items were selected with precision and an awareness of what would make us smile. I have some rocks from places I should not, and they are safely ensconced in my sacred nooks, only to be revealed on a guided tour with a pre-signed confidentiality clause.
You all know of Ruth's Garden -next pic shows Liam to the right of it. We have the Buddha Garden with an angel watching Buddha. birdbaths, wind chimes and plaques and birdhouses and cages Some inhabited by real birds.
The backyard is totally enclosed on all sides by tall trees, bushes, plants.
I love its seclusion. We have been here 21 years and over that time I have planted various bushes that have grown unexpectedly tall. Our gardener has landscaped the back with what look like Christmas trees. The result is that when we sit outside we are not in view from any sea level point. Maybe neighbors can see from their second or third floors. That is okay-I would not mind being observed from above-that is non participatory. Just don't want the sideways views which are too personal for me. I grew up in city housing and having an outdoor space is magical after sharing my playgrounds with hundreds of kids. I want one private place now.
So Liam and I sit outside; he explores, sniffs, digs, rolls over, walks, waits for latte licks, just displays his joy for me. I read, drink. think, write, text, email, access Facebook, Tweet- all that from my blackberry. I can hear birds, smell barbecues, enjoy laughter, appreciate barking dogs, yet they are all muffled, like being in the world but not. I look up and see plane after plane soaring above, 4 minutes apart in the late afternoon. All is okay as we are in our summer place.
When I leave the back, I reenter the everyday routine of passersby, cars, mail carriers, bike riders, garbage trucks, all the "front" of the house stuff. I have been at peace with the high garden greenery for many years. However, today I am reading the NY Times, one of the many items I pile next to me while out back and an article catches my eye-all about being neighborly. The issue is planting your borders and what it says about you as a neighbor. Seems like my towering perimeter might be offensive to my neighbors.
A quote: "There's a lot of symbolism attached to what you do on your property line. The message seems to match how high a plant stands against the human body. The minute that you put something higher than people can step over, you say, 'I don't want you coming over here.' "
Oh no!
So much I did not know going from apartment living to house living. Thought I was up to speed by now. Am I perceived as a bad neighbor? Yikes-see link.

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/03/garden/03hedge.html?ref=garden

The article makes sense, perceptions can be created visually by borders and labels can stick. However, I think my neighbors are okay with my high borders. I still say "Hi " and all that and they wave back. Our dogs like each other.
Liam plays in security, he only rolls over in the backyard, because of its high borders.



If anyone wants to see me, just text, I'll come out if I hear my blackberry beep over all those sounds of our Summer Place.
Woof, Woof

Liam loved LOST

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end
Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I'll never look into your eyes...again
The Doors

The TV show LOST premiered in September 2004
Liam was not yet born, but his parents were immediate Losties and we were there for the first 3 seasons. Liam was born 08/01/07 and adopted by Paul and me on 01/01/08. Yes, I know, an often repeated sequence of events. Liam joined in watching LOST with us during the last 3 seasons, 2008. 09, 10. We never reviewed the first 3 seasons with Liam, so he did not have the background we did. The last LOST was this past Sunday, May 23, 2010, one reviewer wrote "a feast of a finale" http://www.usatoday.com/life/television/reviews/2010-05-24-lostreview24_ST_N.htm
The first episode was repeated the day before, Saturday, May 22 and Liam joined us in watching it.
Liam noticed something right away. The first scene has Jack opening his eye. What prompted Jack to do so? A yellow lab, named Vincent trotted by, licked Jack, waking him up. ABC
Jack is a doctor and has a mission. People need fixing. Liam was barking with joy that the opening scene contained a canine friend. As we reviewed the episodes this week we found that Vincent the dog played a crucial role in helping, protecting and comforting the survivors of Oceanic flight 815 throughout all 6 seasons.http://lostpedia.wikia.com/wiki/Vincent
And who was in the very last scene with Jack? Vincent. Jack lay dying in the same bamboo field in which he has was licked awake by Vincent in the very first episode, Vincent came by to comfort him, licked his head and lay down beside him Jack and Vincent at the end.
So Vincent started it and finished it with Jack. He was there when Jack saw the plane leaving and he stayed 'til Jack closed his eye in death.
Vincent did not go to the sideways world. No need. He had nothing to atone for, all he ever did was help. He retired on the island with Rose and Bernard and lived a happy life there with them until he died a natural death.
He moved on. Liam knows that Vincent was united with the other survivors in that special memory that linked them for eternity and pulled them to each other. Being a Leo Dog he did fantasize about the role of a lifetime and imagined himself in Vincent's place in the last scene. There was a character named Liam, Charlie's brother, so Liam was represented at least in name. Jack and Liam-at the end
So hopeful, so spiritual, so profound-the thought that we are connected to certain people by our shared experience and the memory of this will bring us together at some point is so powerful
as Jack's Father said:
Well this is a place that you all made together so that you could find one another. The most important part of your life was the time that you spent with these people. That's why all of them are here. Nobody does it alone, Jack. you needed all of them and they all needed you."

and this article summarizes the meaning of LOST http://designwoop.com/2010/05/lost-finale-explained-well/Thanks to a good friend for forwarding-could not have found it alone. Live together.

woof woof
The End

Lost Letters

finally a hot May day, yay

There is a new movie entitled Letters to Juliet http://www.letterstojuliet-movie.com/
Apparently people are and have been writing to Juliet (yes, of Romeo and Juliet) for many years seeking her advice in love. They tack these missives on the wall beneath the famous balcony in Verona, Italy. These postings are collected each day and answered by a group of volunteers. Yeah, really. The movie's story is woven around just one lost letter found in a crevice in the wall. This letter has been lost or maybe better phrased "waiting" for over 50 years. A stone from the wall loosens and a letter is extricated carefully and gently from behind it by a lovely young woman Sophie, played by Amanda Seyfreid. She knows she has discovered something special.
I am no Amanda Seyfried. However, I am doing the same thing. I am collecting letters, my mother's letters.
And just like Sophie, her character in Letters to Juliet, I would love for one to just fall out from behind somewhere. My mother Ruth wrote me letters often and for many years.
Where are they all?
I have been on a quest to find these letters. postcards, notes, greetings. Where would have I tucked them away? I must have saved them I am sure.
If only I had the wall of Verona where everyday these communications are retrieved, read and saved. They would all have been collected, catalogued, remembered, stored by a team.
I do not have a wall or a team.
I have had letters, cards and notes pop out of places where they have been resting undisturbed for weeks. months and years. They seemingly announce themselves to me. I am looking through photo albums and find one from my 50th birthday.

I am looking though stored receipts in my desk drawer and one folded paper looks a bit different, Ruth's last letter I think. I am looking in a cabinet for a flashlight and see a postcard from Spain dated 12/03/04 or 3/12/04? Is this how it will be? Like Letters to Juliet, a surprise each time?
I hope for more - a volume discovery, a trove, a stash, a labeled envelope Letters to Carol
Until then I will enjoy my serendipitous discoveries.
Liam loving the sun and Ruth's birthday card to him for his first birthday in August 2008.Liam rolling in joy at our mutual discoveries and always looking for more, he is part hound

Woof, woof

Widespread Frost Likely, stiff breezes, gusty winds

Liam in a lazy sit trying to get warm on a blustery May day
Last week's blog spoke of April 2010, which seems to be the hottest April on record at an average of 57.9 degrees. In May we have had frosts, swirling breezes, wintry rain, sudden surprising wind gusts, cold, I mean cold. It was 42 on Monday, May 10 here in NY. And out on the edges of Long Island 24 degrees. We are chilling in an April-like dreary rawness now.
Did April and May change places?
Isn't April the" cruellest month?"
Overheard at Starbucks today from one of the regulars, "Why aren't you decorated for Halloween? That is sure what it feels like out there."

After my Mom Ruth passed away this March, I received a few condolence rose plants. Just babies right now, I have been caring for them indoors and the instructions promise if treated nicely, fed and watered properly they would be okay indoors until the weather warmed a bit. When the threat of frost had passed, I could transfer them outside. They have not exactly thrived but were hanging on for their chance at the outdoors. We had the hottest April ever, The roses would be out in the heat, flourishing soon.

Mother's day is the day when all gardeners in zone 7, where we reside, are assured that planting annuals, and bringing indoor plants out is okay. I believed this to be true. Since Sunday May 2, had a high temp of 88, I figured we were over any problems of winter weather. The mini roses were planted outside, right before the howling month of May startled us with its ferocity.

I had an idea borrowed from a friend whose family had commemorated their mother by planting a garden in her honor. My rose plant gifts presented me with this same option. My planting would be in an already existing garden space with some patio stones, my Mom's dog statue named Yorkie, a weeping angel (she knew something), a short bird bath-it was an already busy enclave. I would be dedicating the area as Ruth's Rose Garden, Ruth's mother was Rose, I had these roses, so there it is.

As I have mentioned, I found only one framed picture on Ruth's desk and it was of Liam. She said "He looked independent, brave, and his own person." She loved to look at that pic- it made her smile. So I googled and found a company that makes plaques and imprints photos onto the plaques.
http://www.plaquemaker.com/
I had it inscribed Ruth's Rose garden with Liam's pic-they did such a loving creative job.
Here is a pic of it finished so you have a visual of what I am describing as the story continues below

I needed to screw the plaque into a piece of wood in order to set it up above ground, found none around the house, yard or street. Again googling brought me to a local local lumber yard. http://www.stixnstones.com/Their site was very inviting and the deciding factor was that one of their trucks was painted pink to encourage awareness in the fight against breast cancer-a fight my mother was in before her death. A pink truck! This seemed prescient of a good relationship as well as good Karma for Ruth's Rose garden. I emailed, received a return email from Dawn, emailed back that I would come in. Good. A woman was working there-it might not be just a sacred male bastion of building materials. I was invited to come by any time. Last Thursday, I drove up and only saw huge trucks with skids of lumber, planks, rough looking men. As I entered, I felt a testosterone camaraderie in the air. I almost bolted as all I had was my 4x8 stainless steel plaque. I feared that my project might be too insignificant for them. I had no truck, no routine standard order, as many did, could offer no frequent buyer handshake.
But I forced myself to wait with all the guys. Where was Dawn? In the back? Maybe she worked off site at home watching Oprah. She was the person I had emailed with several times about what I needed. I SO wanted to see a woman.

My turn came and I proudly announced I had a unique order. I did not want to predispose anyone into thinking mine was not as worthy as the big ones. I also added that I had been emailing with Dawn, hoping to show I was not just a walk-in. My guy was very interested-I think he was relieved to have to solve something different, a change from 5000 planks of wood, and 20 tubs of cement blocks. Anyway, I was led from the office to the open-air warehouse where I luxuriated in the intoxicating smell of all kinds of fresh lumber. Together we strolled up and down aisles bordered by stacks of different types of wood. We were soon joined by another employee who seemed to be higher ranking because only he had the authority to use the giant electric saw to slice my chosen plank. I picked, he did the sawing. Job done. I had my materials. The boss yelled out "don't charge her?" Free! I thanked all profusely and explained the reason for the plaque. Everyone seemed reluctant to return to his/her traditional big orders. Now I had some wood and the plaque. My lumberman added "I am sure your husband can help you screw the plaque to the wood and the stand" I smiled a goodbye. Paul is the Chef in our house-the indoor guy; I do the outside work, outdoor girl, no need to explain to my new friends.

I screwed the plaque to the wood with a small degree of pain and difficulty since toolgirl had no electric screwdriver that worked, nor any proper sized screws with tops wide enough for my Phillips screwdriver. Got it done.
I emailed the invisible virtual Dawn my thanks. She replied "I am glad you are pleased, we have been in business 54 years."

Here is Ruth's Rose Garden from afar, See her dog statue at left, and those leaves in the pot and to the left are future rose bushes, thanks friends!
You think they will survive this rough May start? The cherub is weeping.

Ruth's Rose garden also has a rabbit visitor and Liam spends a lot of time trying to catch him and sniff him out of his rabbit hole as well as digging in Ruth's garden. Maybe Ruth's rabbit and dog garden would be a more apt title.
I wonder if this rose garden has a chance. Somehow, I think Ruth would be okay with whatever happens. I know she would say in her charmingly Ruthless way
"Let Liam have his fun, where are the roses anyway?"

Woof, woof

Hottest April, whose pants are these?

April is the cruellest month, breeding
lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.......
T.S. Eliot The Wasteland 1922

I do not know if this April was the cruelest, but it seems that April 2010 was the hottest month ever on record. I did not notice its hotness. We had some very hot days but the impression of oppressive heat did not register on my internal thermometer. I checked with Kevin Grogan, our weather barista, and he confirms it was indeed the hottest ever recorded in Central Park.
http://forecast.weather.gov/product.php?site=NWS&issuedby=OKX&product=RER

A clue to the higher temps was that Liam was out a lot. He loves the outdoors and he began chasing, sniffing and resting on the lawn early and often this April.
The last week in April might have proved to be just too hot for some. Early in the week I discovered a pair of shorts draped over a chair in our back yard. Now I thought the shorts might belong to "The Ultimate Chimney Company"who had cleaned our gutters on Monday, April 26. Or maybe to our Lawn service. I mulled over my course of action. Should I ask who left their shorts in my yard? Was this opening me up to uncomfortable suspicion? Would the question reflect negatively on one of the service people? I decided to send an email to the gutter cleaning folks since they would not be returning. The lawn team comes by on Tuesdays and would see the shorts again, and pick them up, had they left them. So I sent a note.

Thanks for your wonderful service on Monday April 26, 2010. We found a pair of blue shorts on the chair in the back yard -was wondering if they were left that day.
We were thinking it was either your team or our gardener's-we noticed on Wednesday.

Carol McNiff

No reply yet, I hope I have not been crossed off their client list for shorts stealing or that their service guy has been fired for leaving his shorts (in the hottest month of April ever).

Then on Friday April 30, last day of the hottest April ever, we drove out to Bayville for lunch. Bayville is located on the Long Island Sound and is the site of our wedding reception, which was in April, 1982. While we sat outside on the deck on Wall's Wharf http://www.wallsbeach.com/ We noticed another abandoned pair of pants. What is going on with folks leaving their pants/shorts? These had boots attached. Seems the owner was inside the restaurant having anchored his boat just offshore. He had taken off his boot/pants to enter the restaurant. So his lost pants would have a reunion later.
As we enjoyed the view of Long Island Sound, a woman and her dog strolled by, a Liam look alike. Paul and I both agree that Liam is not a beach dog and the north shore rocks and shells would bother his feet so we felt okay that we had left him home alone. Liam loves grass. He would not have gone near the water. We assume the ship's captain reclaimed his pants after he finished his lunch.
We still have an unclaimed pair of shorts.

Liam outside enjoying the hot April, no shorts, no boots, no bodies of water just a hot lawn and warm sun

Woof, woof

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