Amazing artist Amanda Roberson happened to stumble upon my photograph for last Sunday’s Sunday Creative.  The theme was “shapely” and I posted my photo of “shapely pears” in honor of women’s bodies.  Here’s the original:

Amanda contacted me about painting the pears, and after a thumbs up from me, she created this:

Isn’t it lovely?  You can see the original, in a larger size, here. So, go on over to her blog, and let her know how beautiful it is!  Also, check out her Etsy shop – she has a few sweet notecards listed.  And, for any knitters who are still reading my almost completely devoid of knitting blog (I am working on something – really!), one of the notecard sets is a perfect gift – little woolly lamb notecards.

Thanks again Amanda!!!

Remember this photo?

 It was in my Collection of Things from our first assignment.  Pispero had asked me about my teacups, but she also asked about the photo.  So, now with this assignment, it’s the perfect time to talk about this family photo.

The photo is from my Great Aunt Fayge’s wedding, taken sometime between 1942-1944.  Everyone in my family has a copy of this photo, but I have my grandmother’s, and I know it’s the original because my father’s head appears in the bottom of the photo, and he’s cut off of all the copies.

My greatgrandfather and greatgrandmother, here in this photo, taken before they left Russia, were second cousins.  Someone in the family had married outside of the religion, so my family wasn’t marketable — there was no matchmaker knocking on their doors.  So, they married each other.  Rumor has it that my greatgrandparents didn’t like each other very much, but what did it matter?  Did you have to like your husband? 

Anyway, my grandfather, William, or Zev in Yiddish (I’m named for him — my Hebrew name is Zehava) left Russia, leaving behind my Greatgrandmother Anna (Hannah – and my brother Howard is named for her, his Hebrew name is Hunnan) and their three children, my Grandmother Zena, my Great Aunt Bess, and my Uncle Al, really Israel, it became Al after he came to the United States, and they called him Izzy.  He promised he would send for them when he was settled.

A few years went by, and my Greatgrandmother wasn’t waiting any longer.  She was going to find her husband.  So, she packed up her three children, and rolled up their possessions in a Persian carpet, and set out by train, crossing Siberia with these small children in tow.  They couldn’t cross Europe because of the Russian Revolution, so my Greatgrandmother headed to China to wait for a boat to cross the Pacific.  My greatgrandmother and her brood spent six months in China, waiting.  And then, they crossed the Ocean, entered the United States in San Fransisco, crossed the country, and found my grandfather in the Bronx.  Incredible.

 So, once his family had found him, he sent for the rest of the family – one by one.  And eventually, he was able to get all 8 siblings out.  The siblings who came to the United States wrote to the large family that remained in Rovno, Poland, their small town — my grandmother never considered herself as emigrated from Poland – her town was on the border, and the town’s nationality kept switching.  She certainly didn’t think of herself as Russian either – she was Jewish, and then when she came to the United States, she was an American.  My grandmother is the older child, in the white dress.  The other photo, which is flipped over, is actually their Passport Photo, and the writing is incomprehensible Russian.  You can see the front of it in this photo.

 So they wrote, but at some point, the return letters stopped coming.

And, they learned they were all gone.

So, these photos, and more, are in frames, around my house.  I’ve married someone who isn’t Jewish, so we don’t have a religious household.  But, my history, and who I am is in these photos. 

I carry my Greatgrandfather’s name, my brother my Greatgrandmother.  And, luckily, we still have these photos – so we can write their faces on our hearts and minds, too.

This summer I’ve been really focused on one thing – photography.  And, when I split the photography stuff away from this blog, it never occurred to me that I would, in effect, be gutting this space.  I’ve never been all that interested in photography before, I never kept this blog going droning on and on about photography, I’ve always managed to find something to write about.

But, what I guess I was writing about was my obsessions. 

And, I was obsessed with knitting.

Now, I’m not.

There are still many things I love to write about – books, movies, knitting, this and that, silly things, but the bottom line is, my current obsession is photography – and it’s really an obsession.  And the personal side of my life, at the moment, is being expressed through my photos.  So, I find myself thinking – does this photo go on this blog, or the other blog?  Can I post it on both blogs?

Anyway, I’m still working it all out.  I’ll figure it out.  I still believe having the second blog was the right thing – I think I just have to get a grip on my obsession, and perhaps become a more wellrounded blogger.

In any event, a few mini – reviews – because none of these topics deserve a full review, well, accept the book.  But, if I gave the book a full review, I’d spoil it.  So it’s not that the book isn’t deserving – it’s that you deserve to read it without my ruining it for you.

First, Beer -

Bad beer.

Really bad beer.

Miller lite to be exact.

I met Joe on Friday for a quick coffee during his big fifteen minute break.  Earlier in the evening, he had cited some kid for underage drinking on the platform.  The kid hadn’t even tried to hide it in those telltale red party cups, like his friends.  He just stood on the platform, Miller Lite can in hand.  And then he was surprised he got a ticket.  Shocker.  Anyway, I was joking around - I was heading to the bottle store to get a six pack, maybe we should get Miller lite.  Great idea! says husband.

Now, we’re not highbrow people when it comes to beer.  Our refridgerator  isn’t stocked with Chimays, or Hoegartten, or anything beer snobby.  Usually, it’s Corona lite with fresh lime.  Nothing fancy, but light and refreshing.

Miller’s new marketing ploy is this crazy bottle neck – I’m not sure what it’s supposed to do – but it can’t be doing much.  Blech.  Really, that’s all I have to say about it – but it’s been on my mind all weekend, because that’s all we had in the house.  Only one bottle left – and back to the Corona.

Next up, of course, a Movie -

Salt – We saw Salt on Sunday.  Eh.  I’m so tired of these shoot em up movies.  Really, it looks like her karate chops she be accompanied by big POWs! THWACK!  And, I’ve spent a lot of time in my Comic book round up of movies this summer harping away about how these movies need a compelling villian.  The Russians are not compelling villains anymore.  The North Koreans – now those are villains I would be scared of – but it would be really a leap to come up with a way that Angelina Jolie would really be a sleeper spy for the North Koreans. 

My husband is so sitting through Eat Pray Love in August, there’s no question about it.  During the school year, Joey is with us every weekend, but he only sleeps over every other weekend, which gives us two weekends a month that we could see nonkid appropriate movies.  No such time in the summer.  So I’m really regretting that The Kids Are Alright and  Tilda Swinton’s I Am Love are passing us by . . .

For Salt. Sigh.   And next, I can hardly type it . . . Dinner for Schmucks.  At least I’m promised a crap dinner at Chickie & Pete’s with accompanying crab fries in exchange for this assuredly mind numbing gem. 

And my last little mini review – a book. 

 I’ve actually managed to finish a few books this summer, but this is the first I want to push – One Day by David Nicholls.  This book, a kind of cheeky take on when Harry Met Sally, chronicles the relationship between will they be or won’t they be lovers Dexter and Emma, by checking in with them each July 15 for two decades.  It’s light, but moving, and I really liked hanging out with them.  I was a little worried – each chapter takes place on One Day – a bit contrived.  But One Day isn’t  just about July 15 – it’s more about hopes, dreams  - someday is one day, and then it’s more about memories, and what One Day can mean in the context of your life.  And, the writing is tricky – to provide a years worth of backstory on one given day – Nichols plays with voice, and some of it is a bit of writing acrobatics, but it worked for me.  Really worked.  I loved this book, and couldn’t believe it when it was over.  So, enough – or I’ll spoil it.  Read it.

Every week, I get a dozen emails from Amazon – bestselling mysteries, New York Times bestsellers, bestselling cookbooks, etc.  Today, I received, the Best Books of 2010 – So Far.  No 1?  The Passage by Justin Cronin.

Do Not, I Repeat, Do Not get sucked into the hype that has attached itself to this doorstop of a book.  This book is nothing short of terrible.  So terrible I didn’t finish it – because finishing it would have been an oxymoron – there’s no ending.  It’s a planned trilogy.  And it’s not a stand alone. 

I read a review of the book that didn’t quite pan it, but was hardly a drum banger, and it suggested that this was the book Mr. Cronin wrote in order to send his kids to college.  Well, if you want to put some change in his pockets, buy his earlier books – Mary and O’Neil and The Summer Guest - simple, beautiful, well drawn character studies, not this magnum opus mess-us.

The Passage has received a lot of “word of mouth” publicity – well, really, its only one big powerful mouth that’s pushing this book – Stephen King.  And why wouldn’t he – it’s a total ripoff of his Stand, and what’s the highest form of flattery?  Imitation.  King has been sucked in by this 700+ page ass kissing, and now he wants you to get sucked in too.

Don’t, I repeat, Don’t do it!

I can’t even believe I’m going to say this, but here it goes – deep breath – the New Moon saga series vampires are more compelling than the goons in this book.

And, if you really want the pants scared off of you, and you want good zombie/vampire stuff, literally eat your face off stuff - rent 28 Days and 28
Days Later.  That’s about a four hour investment as opposed to the time it’ll take you to get through this garbage – and the next two.

Listen to Lemon – she’s imploring you -

So, what was in my mail when I got home?

The Paul McCartney Tickets that seem to be lost in the mail?

My latest addition of Entertainment Weekly?

No, this –

An AARP membership welcome package.

Unbelievable.

A few months ago, my credit card information was pilfered.  It was an old card, still using my maiden name.  The bank still isn’t sure how the card was accessed, since it had allegedly been cancelled when I ordered my new card, with my married name.

Anyway, these brilliant thieves went to a convenience store in Georgia, and rang up $87.00 worth of twinkies.  Then, they ordered an AARP membership, and a subscription to Gevalia coffee. 

But, great mastermind criminals that they are, they ordered both subscriptions in my name.

So, now I’m an AARP member.

When I was 19, and home on winterbreak from college, my 17 year old brother and I went to the movies.  It was cold, the wind was gusting, and it was threatening snow.  So I wrapped my scarf around my head, only my eyes peering out, all bubuska’d up.  My brother , the comedian, jokingly asked the cashier for two tickets,senior citizen discounts please.  She titled her head, and then rang up the discounts.  It became a long time joke in our family.

Now that I’m 41, it’s not so funny. 

Well, it is.

And, then it isn’t.

That’s my life these days.  I’m not struggling with age, exactly.  I think 40 was easy for me because pretty early on in my 30’s I had accepted the fact that I truly didn’t want to have children.  Taking that ticking clock out of my system made my body’s aging much more peaceful, something I wasn’t fighting.  So, it’s not aging that’s necessarily on my mind; it’s entering the second half of my life with renewal.  Maybe that’s a silly way to measure time – the second act of my life – when really, there have been dozens upon dozens of acts in my 41 years.  But, getting married really seemed to start a new chapter, a new book even.  At 41, I’m a new wife, and a new stepmother, and not a very good stepmother at that.  And, after the second half, that’s it – I’d better make it count now.  Retirement, and a real AARP membership is still many many years away (ah, the cruel joke of getting that package in the mail . . . there’s still the lottery), but what if it goes as quickly as my first 20 years of careerlife?  Life seems so much more immediate – its really here, every day.

And maybe that’s why I’m photographing it every day, maybe it’s why I like to color everything vintage –  slow everything down.  If you capture it, it stops, even just for an instant.

So what to do with the package?  I’m not opening it – and I’m not saving it.  But, I guess I’m now on their mailing list, sigh.  Once a month, I’ll be reminded that I’m not yet 65, and I guess that’s a good thing.

And when I’m 65, I hear there are fabulous discounts.

But, I won’t be looking for any reminders in the mail tomorrow.

I’ll be looking for my Paul McCartney tickets.

How hard do you want to work to like a movie? In other words, how long do you want to spend thinking about it after it’s over – and I don’t mean think about it in terms of, “That was thought provoking!  It really made me think about x (race, adoption, love, marriage, etc).” I mean, thinking things like, “wtf? What happened at the end?”  And then, after you spend hours analyzing, twisting, trying to remember clues in the movie, determining that you have to see it again, see it again, and then, still, no answer . . .

Do you find that satisfying?

Even if the answer is yes, wait – don’t jump on the Inception bandwagon just yet –

Because even if you come up with an answer, you might just not care, because there’s no reason to care about any of these characters, their manufactured dreams or their futures.

Don’t worry about reading this review and being “spoiled” – I can’t tell you what happened at the end, because I have no idea, and I really don’t care.

Inception is about a thief – a thief who can enter your dreams, steal your most precious industrial commodity in a shoot-em-up action packed dream, and sell it to the corporation who hired him to pilfer the “information,” whatever that is.  These dreams don’t look like any dream I’ve ever had.  I have the same dream over and over – it’s a panic dream.  I’m late, or maybe I’ve missed a test on the eve of graduation, and I might not graduate.  Maybe I’m not that imaginative, maybe I don’t dream in cinemascope – but my dreams never involve car chases, AK-47’s, or hand grenades.  And these dreams have no dream like quality to them – everything is in focus, the action in the sequences are linear, and really, the whole concept just makes very little sense.

When you think about it.

So do you want to think about it?

Because if you want to think about it, you will be very disappointed.  If you don’t want to think about it, and just go in and watch the stunning cinematography in glorious IMAX, go.

A couple of summers ago, I read a review of the at the time new Michael Ondaatje book, Divisadero.  The review was glowing, but as an aside, it mentioned that it might just be a book you have to read twice.   I’d heard that before, and I threw caution to the wind.  The book was nonlinear.  The characters did not seem to connect.  It wasn’t until the last chapter you understood how all of the pieces fit together, and the narrative became cohesive.  Huh, I thought, I’d actually understand it if I read it again.  But, I didn’t, because I got it, and I’m lazy.  But, a second reading definitely would have provided a payoff, and made the reading of it a deeper, richer experience.

And, if I had to read Divisadero again, that would have been ok – because the second read is free.   Second time of IMAX – not so free.  And then, you’d have to spend time with these not very likable characters again.  Leonardo DiCaprio’s thief is supposed wracked by guilt, yet, there’s no real redemptive moment in this movie.  And the plot – that in order to be able to return to his family, Leo’s thief must implant an idea in the mind of a corporate scion who is on the eve of inheriting his father’s massive empire, that he really wants to break up his father’s life’s work, and start all over again . . . because . . . or else . . . I don’t really know – world domination?  A monopoly?  Who cares.  The other characters?  I know so little about them, that I don’t even remember their names, and I just saw the movie on Sunday.

Anyway, this review is becoming almost as incomprehensible as the movie.  If you’re looking for beautifully filmed action movie, go.  If you think you’re going to become enthralled with a dream world, and become wrapped up in the levels upon levels of dreams, and begin to also question what is reality, what isn’t and what is the reality of the end of the film, spare yourself.  You’re never going to get that second time around payoff.

I bet you didn’t know that every good beach trip starts at the Gamestop -

Caught, redhanded – their secret is revealed!

Videogames in hand, it was time to cross the bridge into Joisey -

 Buh bye Philly!

The first night, Joe grilled – doesn’t he look so happy to be up close and person with the hot grill on the ninety degree day?

The corn was delish!

After dinner, we want walking on the beach. I had my camera, Joe had the camcorder. 

I took some of the pictures you saw below, and over on Lemontines 365.  Of course, what’s a Friday photo story without a fence – oy, another fence, my mom would say!

 And just to be thorough, the view the other way -

 The next day, after baking on the beach, we went to the Cape May Zoo.  Lions and Tigers and Bears in Cape May, oh my!  The main attraction was the new born baby snow leopards.

Here’s momma -

And here are the babies -

And what’s a zoo without a few flamingos? Another morning, we went to the Cape May Craft Fair -

There’s a happy guy, going to a craft fair!

I was happy – I had birthday money, and I bought a hat!

And that night, we had our date night, and Joe took me to the Deauville Inn for my birthday dinner. You can see those pictures here.

And, after dinner, we frolicked on the beach -

And a fine vacation was had by all!

Have a great weekend everyone! 

Hosted by Cecily and Serious Krystyn

This week’s assignment is all about emotion -what emotion is rocking my world right now, at this moment, and photograph it.

And right now, I am wired.

Just returned from vacation, I am rejuvenated, but I’m also feeling a little anxious. While I am well-rested, and that slow, tred-footed feeling that I had before I left is gone, I’m also a little apprehensive about the two trials I have coming up in August, and I’m antsy about the refinancing we’re doing on our house.

At times, especially at night, I almost feel like I have restless leg syndrome – like I want to jump out of my skin – I’ve stored up so much energy from vacation. Vacation was all about getting up early, going to the beach, soaking up the sun, eating and drinking too much, and going to bed fairly early to do it all over again the next day. Now, my sleep schedule is out of whack, and I’m trying to readjust to the early mornings and late nights, and the work in between.

Hopefully, balance will return soon!

Almost every year of his life, my stepson has spent a week at the beach with his grandparents.

But for him, a traditional vacation has now become a ritual bore.

There’s no X-box.

There’s no privacy.

Hopefully, one day, when he has the freedom to choose his own vacations, and his own traditions, he’ll understand.