Project 221 through 224

Ask a Girlfriend

She would probably know. She may even know what a kohlrabi tastes like. I choose to ask rather than try. Cowardly, I know. But I’m a grown-up now and you can’t make me. It is interesting looking, though. My girlfriends are used to me taking my camera everywhere I go, taking “interesting” photos. Some weeks have themes. Some don’t. This one didn’t, until I looked at the pictures. Each one was taken while I was with a girlfriend. Not the same one every time. I remember my first girlfriend’s name. It was Micah, and we walked to school together when I lived in Texas. I only knew her for a year before we moved. When you’re seven and you move several states away, and then a couple of months later you have moved out of the country, it’s hard to stay in touch. I didn’t stay in touch. If you think about the important times in your life, there’s always a girlfriend there to talk to. First crush. First kiss. First love. First heartbreak. Second heartbreak. Third heartbreak. Okay. You get the drift. Sometimes our girlfriends stay with us a long time, and sometimes they drift in and out of our lives like a scent on a breeze. But we remember them. And sometimes we reconnect with them later. And it’s like you’ve never really been apart, but you have years of memories to share with each other, so you felt you were still there for them, and they were still there for you. And they were. And you were. Because being a girlfriend is more than physically being there. It is cosmic. It is calling up a girlfriend in the middle of the night because you have been told one of your children has cancer and she doesn’t tell you to call her back when it’s light out. It is going to the hospital when a girlfriend is in labor and her husband is out of town but is trying to get to the hospital in time (and he did). But she wouldn’t have been alone if he didn’t make it. It is knowing that your girlfriends like you in spite of yourself. It’s knowing you can have an overnightparty...even at this age...and watch live events going on that are history, and you are sharing them with tea and crumpets, or Millionaire’s Coffee and tissues. It’s having a girls’ week-end and watching all three Lord of the Rings movies in a row. It’s making something up so I don’t have to taste kohlrabi. And a turnip by any other name is still a turnip...but maybe a more interesting photo.

Day 219 and 220

Project 365 Day 214 through 218

Project 365 Day 213

Another Time...Another Place

I am not one of those people who yearn for simpler times. I think things have always been hard and or complicated if you are actually living them. When I heard about a Civil War Re-enactment going on not far from me I jumped at the opportunity to photograph it. The camp itself was amazing and reminded me a lot of Mountain Men gatherings. It was in the mid-90’s that day, and there was nothing simpler about the clothes they were wearing. They were in wool uniforms and the women were in hooped and heavily skirted dresses. And let me just say two words...indoor plumbing. But I do love the costuming if I don’t have to wear it. Even my Barbie didn’t have the usual outfits. Well, maybe she did, but I never used them. She had a Guinevere dress of dark purple velvet complete with a gold tasseled belt. She had a black taffeta ball gown (strapless with a big, full skirt). Costumes. That’s what I love. To an extent. I hate Hallowe’en. Loved it when I was a kid, of course. When I was a kid I always wanted the purchased costumes, but I never had those. It was make-up and usually adult clothes. In England I was Cinderella once. Burned cork to put ashes on my face. It was cool. We weren’t allowed to go to any of the English homes because they didn’t “celebrate” Hallowe’en. We always knew where the “American” homes were. But the English kids would cut holes in paper bags, wear them as masks and come around to the American houses. I was never very good at coming up with costumes for my kids. My all-time favorite was a baseball hat set sideways on my daughter’s head. Freckles put on with an eyebrow pencil. A burgundy sweatshirt of my husband’s, with a large “A” in the middle made out of masking tape. Voila. Instant Alvin from Alvin and the Chipmunks. I love the more ornate costumes. Like wedding dresses. And fairy wings. Veils and hats with netting. Vintage clothing and attitudes to match. It was surprising to me how many children were involved with the Civil War group. Wow. They are the me in my head. The one that longs for costumes that are real. The chance to “dress-up” and have it be normal. There’s just that one thing, though. Indoor. Plumbing.

Project 365 Day 211 and 212

Project 365 Day 210

Project 365 Day 209

Field of Dreams

The summer before my first year of high school was a blast. It was “base housing” that was actually just off the Air Force base “proper” property. But we were all military kids in a fairly small area, so you all got to know each other. And in the summer, we were all looking for something to do. Nobody had air conditioning and really, back then, you didn’t want to stay in the house during the summer anyway. We had three TV channels (four if you counted Public TV, and we didn’t). There were no video tapes, no DVD’s, no video games and no computers. If it was August, and you were in the house, it was because you were grounded. In the heat of the evening, I can remember all of us kids, and some of the parents heading over to an empty field at the edge of the housing area. There was a make-shift backstop there and we’d all go play softball. So to speak. We’d chose teams, set up what was necessary for a baseball field, and away we’d go. I have vivid memories of one of the dads hitting the ball, and before he made it to first base, one of his flip-flops had come off (okay...in the day we called them thongs, but we all know the picture that comes to mind now when we hear that, so I won’t use the “old school” vernacular) and knocked over first base (a lawn chair) as he rounded the base to second, still getting his foot-wear back on. It was hot and dusty. And as it got later, you could smell the moisture in the air as it beganto get just a little humid. Just a hint of humidity. I always ended up in the outfield. Which was just fine with me. If I didn’t catch a fly-ball, and someone was on-base, I could never remember where to throw it. So I’d just kind of daydream out there and enjoy the view. Usually from center-field. Right-field was better viewing actually. But as the sun set, either was fine. And there were times that the sun would be so big and red it looked like Jupiter. And now, when I get just the right whiff of air, during a heat spell or late in the summer, I dream again of that field...and Tony’s dad is rounding first...