Women with Children

I was going through photographs yesterday and felt inspired to put together some images of women with babies and children. Specifically mothers and grandmothers, but not limited too. Here are some that I choose. I am not quite sure what I want to do with them yet....but I felt really inspired....and realized how much these images made me happy....

                                                                         

                                    

                                                                                      
                                                  

                                                     

                                                

                                                          

                                                      

                                                                  

                          

                                                            

little pig, little pig

I had some much appreciated and greatly needed time off this weekend, where I did a whole lot of nothing...it was splendid. But, I did manage to paint this little piggy bank that has been with me forever. Nate has now claimed use of it, which makes me smile. My Mom received this as a gift for her baby shower when she was pregnant with me all those years ago.

Saturday morning I was feeling the itch to paint and I thought, what a great little muse. This piece will be included in the Keys' Family Art Show which will be taking place on Saturday, August 28th at our humble abode. More info to follow......
Also spent Saturday evening down by the Wissahickon Creek dining at the Valley Green Inn with my Mom, Aunt and Melanie.
It was a late dinner and dusk faded to night. A bit spooky but also wonderful...the food was great and the atmosphere just what I needed.

Photograph circa 2006

hats

So I have finally reached a knitting goal....after many years of knowing how to knit and purl....I faced my fears and went digging for a beginners knitting pattern for a hat. Using 4 needles (some useful online videos teaching me how to cast on to said needles) I managed to clumsily make my way through knitting a beanie hat for a toddler. In the photo my very sloppy first attempt hides behind my latest most colorful version of the same hat. I learned much from this dip into the unknown. First, just keep knitting. It doesn't have to be right the first time, but if you make your way through, you'll have a better handle on it the next time. Second, I hate while using the double ended needles stitches slide off and boom your dropping them....I need those cork things. Third, following a pattern wasn't as hard as I lead myself to believe.

So on with knitting. I think I have done 5 so far and am working on the sixth. Its quite relaxing....and I feel so accomplished.

Next attempt are mittens, only after I fill some hat orders for the winter. Nate and Milo have both requested this hat in black wool with green stripes.

corners

Found the camera again, the real one...

and then even charged the battery.

and without ado, corners of my home.

Long Beach Island, a poem for Old Sh*t Fridays

4 o'clock

high tide

lugging big while buckets to the beach

fishing's better off of the surf

smelling sea salt on the air

white dunes looming

beach becoming smaller, smaller

Daddy's fishes larger, larger

Mommy sits on the flowered sheet

rubbing Ban de Soliel on her fair skin

I sit

waiting for the ocean to come

& grab me

I walk to the surf

and feel the smooth sand pull on my feet

feel the ocean moving me in

feel the tides

shifting me out to sea...

Photo Picks of the Day

Milo and I choose some photos to share with you today. The first one is of an albino snake found in some crazy little animal park that we stumbled upon between Ellsworth and Mount Desert Island, Maine. Milo says he likes its colors.

The second two photos are snaps from 2004 when Milo was a wee one snuggled in the sling. We went to a music fest on the Western Promenade in Portland & met up with our friends Josh and Michael. We were fortunate enough that fine evening to make a new friend, Oakie, the Oakhurst Acorn. Oakhurst is a local Maine Dairy.

a poem, finished

So I had been working on this poem for quite a few years, since 2003, the fall before Milo was born. I was pregnant, living in Maine and had just formed this fantastic and vibrant writers group. We kept up through the winter and then a few of us ladies stayed in contact and kept on having writing group until I moved back here to Philly. But that time, while I was gestating, proved very fertile and I planted the seeds for this poem, Prague Flood August 2002.

This spring I was lucky enough to head back to Maine and attended a writers retreat sponsored by the Wife of Bath. It was fantastic and one of those lovely ladies who I wrote with all those years ago, attended the retreat. I workshopped that poem and finally feel like I have finished...I have never struggled with a poem like I have with this one.

The Wife of Bath was having a summer issue about travel and I submitted this poem. Chris even submitted a postcard he cooked up, that if I ask him nice maybe he will let me post here...

but this summer issue is not to be. The Wife has bigger fish to fry and hopefully will be back soon with the literary mag.

So without further hoopla, fanfare and the like, here it is.

Prague Flood, August 2007

3 nights, after the rain

the Vltava has not receeded

flooding its ancient banks

and low lying neighborhoods

houses unloose their bricks

elder trees, set free from the sodden ground

tumble into the river

the flooded Zoo has emancipated its animals,

seals rolling in the current

trying to hide beneath the shadowy walls

of the stone bridges

we creep cautiously

through the dark evacuated old town

roaming alleys

using our hands as guides

on the damp and crumbling walls

once familiar passages

have become blocked by hulking shadows

dark looming figures in our paths

I trip twice and stumble

feeling the wetness of the furniture

tossed out from the depths

of watery cellar graves

in the absence of light

sounds come louder and closer

the sloshing of water

a far off siren wailing

than quiet

the brush of a large body into stone

an elephant's feet crushing wood

a furl,

flute light on the air

than running footsteps

shouts I cannot understand

and my own breath

coming faster

seeking refuge

amongst the dark and steeped city

& in our hast

we are looking for that secret place

where we've heard the fiddle call

it is known for its beer

which miraculously still springs forth

from golden fonts

the smell of smoke and food is growing near

as we stumble & search & hope

& deep within Stare Mesto

lit by candles & propane the door beckons

here the people are among the broken chairs

but the floor is dry

& the music plays

& we have found asylum

for our rain weary souls.

The McMichael Park Flea Market

In early June, we are treated by the East Falls McMichael Park flea market....these are some snaps from that day. This year, as excited as ever I found some serious treasures that I haven't photographed, yet....but here are some from my wanderings that day. Plus a busking musician.

green gods

Raising the dead through traditional blogging, or what I like to refer to as "old shit fridays"

and without further ado,

a poem, circa 2004

We were once full of green, green grass

& we grew up into trees & clouds, iron gates

we belched mountains & tripped boulders

over our shoulder at high noon

& told the birds our names in

slow, soft whispers -- tweet, hush

when they perched on concrete fountains

& waded in still rain water

we dreamed yesterday

a 76 bus

the opened roads & unloosed us on the world

our little time machin

a tooth, a hair, a sugarcone

figuring out the tripod

I haven't taken any new photos today and thought perhaps I would be inspired by some old ones.....and these two popped up. In 2002, Chris and I were working on a video while living at Brezina in the Czech Republic. We had just gotten the tripod and were playing around, when this first shot was taken.

I am so worn out today and feel so old, but looking at my 25 yr. old self, pre-children, smiling....I felt a bit of whimsy and it made this tired old ma smile.

And this second photo....I don't know why I like it so. The placement, the odd look on my face, I know I am trying to figure out the tripod, perhaps Rina in the background ambling through the field, the sky and clouds....

the score

went to a house sale in lansdowne

 but by the time we got there, all they had was gone

but than I remembered I had seen a sign, for a church sale

 so we stopped and piled out, hoping for the best, and low and behold....

it was a splurge, hat boxes and dishes, aluminum sugar canasters

  vintage sweaters and dresses, books and ceramic wall ballerinas,

feathered hair bands and vintage kitchen contraptions galore....

the biggest score of all, a red bag complete with a shiny baton....

The Charles Prince of Wales Tote Bag

The Charles Prince of Wales Tote Bag
Originally uploaded by zavodk.

I am sure you are already acquainted with Charles. He is looking quite fine in this image reproduction on linen. I found him and the late Diana on a commerative dishtowel from their nuptials in the 80's. I have a very particular project in mind for Diana, but the Prince had me stumped! What to do with him?
Than it dawned on me a while back. My ratty tote bag for work needed a bit of sprucing up and behold! Now he cavorts around the hospital with me on my work days. Beguiling his admirerers in the lunch room winking in the nurses station.
Although I am no huge fan of the Royal Family, I am enjoying toting about my Prince Charles.

Chickie

New Bib on sale at Bohema
Originally uploaded by zavodk.

Been mildly productive lately with this sweet little bibby.
Modeled by dear Ali at Bohema on Ridge Ave in Roxborough.
Hoping to turn out some more sweet things.

Caesg's Quilt

Caesg's Quilt
Originally uploaded by zavodk.

I've been meaning to blog this for quite some time. I finished my first quilt. One for our small friend Caesg....to keep her warm up there in Maine.

This little bit is based on Caesg's nickname....the little fishy mermaid love.

This is the front of the quilt. I used the pattern for the lap quilt loosely from Amy Karol's Bend the Rules sewing book. The rest I just kinda winged it....as I am want to do when it comes to sewing in general.

This is the quilt back with I thought turned out kinda looking likes waves after the washing I did to pucker up those wonky lines.
I like the effect.

Also whipped up this mermaid for Caesg. Being she is a mermaid, we felt she needed to be represented in doll form.
As a whole I am happy with how the quilt turned out....and I learned alot in the process...
Much love and warmth to Caesg!

random bits

Milo's pick for photo today.  Him and Santa age 2 1/2.

At Crescent Beach, Maine in January 2007.  Was warm that day.  We hiked and walked in the fog, through forest to the beach.

M'lord

Have had this song stuck in my head for the past few days....this is me trying to get it out......
enjoy!

through fields we flew

Through fields we flew, picked and drug up

potatoes scattered on the sides of the roads

hawks, stalking fields in the summer-

we mice hidden in fear of claws and beaks.

Ancient brick yards,

battered grainery keys-unlocking short fortunes ,

apples in the darkest spaces of the barn, rolling .

Orchard gruff, muddy and bare

In the evenings the winds howl through the diseased horse chestnut trees of the road-deeply blighted moans

and somewhere in the window across the overgrown Village Square, lights will twinkle & fade, bouncing

off the fallen dormitories-trees growing up from between the collapsed floor boards and rooftops

from beneath my early footfalls

Sometimes the sheep will gather in the empty moat-

collecting thistles on their thick wool we would hear the sloshing of an ancient chord, a harmony of water that ran up hill sunk carp in its depths-ate trees in the midst with one giant gulp.

In the forests the sheep would wander and cut through the mossy crumbled walls of the old fortress we'd smell the decay and watch the moss bury the trees

we'd choke on old bottles, trip on china plates

that emerged from the ground in our pathssss

In summer, light would filter in through the treetops and criss-cross lines of reason, it pushed the grass to

grow past our knees and knettles to claim our shins,

we would limp in and out trying to tie and rebuckle

our shoes.

I'm tyring to get back each memory of creening through

Radostovice into the bull pen, into the fields with the fawns…

Prague Wall

John Lennon Wall in Prague....Mala Strana.
Milue translated means I love you.
Happy New Year,
belated of course.
Hoping to be here more often this year.