Bird + Seed

Cooler by a Mile

We're back after 4 days of being bronzed by the south Jersey sun.  I swear the sun is brighter and stronger in New Jersey than in semi-arctic New England.  This past weekend was my father's 60th birthday.  My parents rented a house on the bay [and 1 block from the ocean] for all us 'kids' [youngest being 21] to gather.  

We didn't do much, but we managed to fill our days.  A lot of my mom's side of the family live there, which meant we had lots of chatting on the porch to catch up on.  And Damon really took to crabbing, which is what my sister is instructing him to do, above.  So now I'm tan, but tired and really needing a vacation from my vacations.  But work doesn't seem to agree.  Grrr.

My Favorite Holiday

My brother & the pies

I love Thanksgiving.  It's the perfect holiday- full of family and friends.  It's an all-inclusive holiday.  Think about it- it's secular which allows people of all faiths or non-faiths to enjoy it together.  It's not patriotic- which means again people from all over can comfortably join your table [and there are no country songs about dogs & trucks that you feel obliged to play].  It's based on food & family.  And Hallmark hasn't sunk it's greedy teeth into the day with cards and tchotchkes.  In my family we usually head down the South Jersey to enjoy the holiday with my mom's family.  Which also means I get to see the ocean.  We hang around eating snacks and drinking until 7 or 8.  Sit down for a great meal [the oyster stuffing usually far outshines the turkey] and then after a little more drinking, we dive into pie [although the 'grownups' usually save the pie for breakfast the next day].  

But Thanksgiving is bittersweet as it ushers in Christmas frenzy and kicks fall in the butt as it walks out the door.  I will still be clinging on to my autumnal themed candles and small gourds for as long as I can.   

My New Jersey Shore

My New Jersey shore has wide white sand beaches and natural dunes.  My shore is calming.  My shore has family and food and sun and Yuengling out on the back porch.  I just got back from 4 days of my shore, in Avalon, NJ.  Bittersweet because my grandfather is no longer with us.  He was a big part of my shore.  When we were little we'd come traipsing back from the beach to his house, only a block away, and he'd have buckets filled with water in the back yard to wash away the sand.  And a platter of cut cheeses and crackers and mustard.  It's a small town- at least the year round residents are a small bunch- and they all knew him.  Even seasonal people who owned houses all knew him.  They came up and told me stories about him.  And how much they miss him. 

We are very low-key shore people.  With really old lawnchairs and towels we stake our place on the beach.  We play catch with old tennis balls or a game called shells, which is like horseshoes but you throw large clam shells into small dug holes.  My parents are playing it above.  Sadly, our low-key-ness is going by the wayside.  I was more and more disgusted by the ostentatious display of material wealth.  Landrovers, Hummers, three story house monstrosities.  My little shore is being overrun by fat white rich suburbanites.  We were given evil looks when playing ball in the street [these are little streets-and the houses have no yards- you are supposed to play in the street].  We were the only house on the block without AC.  

I will always have fond memories of my shore.  But it's not the same.  And when we sell my grandfather's house, it really won't be the same.  Another cute small beach house will be torn down to make a multimillion dollar mansion for people who will only spend a month out of the year in.  Maybe as I get older I need to find a new place to be my shore.  Or I just need to make my own.    

It was a tough week

On the swingset across the street from my grandfather's house in Avalon, NJ.

It was a tough week.  The death of my grandfather was not totally unexpected, but it was sudden.  And no matter what, it always hurts.  He was the patriarch, the nucleus of our family without being domineering- without ever saying anything bad about anyone.  

39th Street Beach.  Shelling with the little second cousins

At least I got to spend time with family members that I never get to see.  A cousin I haven't seen in 5 years.  Second cousins I haven't seen in 3 years.  We don't talk much, but we are a close group.  After the tears there was a lot of laughter.  

The funeral was a typical Catholic mass, with an Irish singer, someone my Pop enjoyed.  Only the family went to the grave and afterwards the closest family and friends ate and drank and reminisced for hours...deep into the night.  The whole town turned out for the viewing.  It is a small town after all.  Two of the three police men.  The grocery store owner and a few other shopkeepers.  Prominent restaurant owners came in, even though during the winter those restaurants are closed [its an island town, with a tiny winter time population]  Construction contractors, fishermen & boat captains- all people my Pop served coffee to at my Uncle's Bait, Tackle & Sandwich shop.  The bank tellers came in shifts.  The Morans  The best part was, during the viewing, while we were all standing there seeing faces we didn't know stream through the door our dear friend [my second mommy] from Michigan came.  She and her daughter flew in and didn't even stay 24 hours, but having her there really unleashed the tears I was holding back. 

The ocean is calm and the dunes are covered with grasses.

After I came back from NJ it was still a tough week.  I dove into my work, I worked this whole weekend and will work tomorrow despite the MLK holiday.  I just haven't felt like myself.  But today, Sunday, is a little better.  I ran 10 miles.  It was warm.  I got done everything I had to.  And I have some new ideas for crafts, and a project for the year.  [to be revealed later].  So I'm back Internets.  
 
  

[In Need of] Comfort Food

I made this sweet potato risotto a few nights ago.  I warmed up the rest and ate it on the couch while watching Cranford.  The risotto is simple enough... a baked sweet potato processed smooth with a bit of cream and Parmesan added to a quantity of cooked risotto.  Creamy and satisfying.  And while I love Cranford, it offers no comfort as every character experiences great sorrow and nearly half die by the end.  For you see, my grandfather died Friday night.  In his sleep.  He was all set to visit my parents for a week, went to bed early to prepare for a day of traveling, but never woke up.  Which is something I take solace in, he obviously did not feel that he was dying.  My grandfather would have been 89 in a few weeks and lived much of his life in a small coastal island town in southern New Jersey.  He was quite the fixture there, working at my Uncle's bait, tackle & sports fishing shop.  Everyone in the town [and many of the annual summer visitors] called him 'Pop' as he served them coffee and smiles.  He was an expert whistler and would sing old tunes all day long.  He loved sitting on his porch with a cold beer, pretzels and strong stinky cheese.  He knew everything about the ocean and fishing.  He made a mean omelet and his specialty was oyster stuffing at Thanksgiving.  He was born in Philadelphia and married his sweetheart after his WWII service in the Navy.  He had three children plus one adopted child, a dozen grandchildren and already a dozen great grandchildren.  I never heard a cross word from him.  The last picture I have of him isn't the best.  It's from two summers ago. Also pictured is my brother

Byebye Pop.  I love you.  
  
 

A New Year's Day Well Spent

Happy New Decade Internets!  You may notice some changes around Bird+Seed.  More will come online this weekend.  And please take note of my new & re-vamped tumblr page, The Daily Snap.  One New Year's resolution is to take a photo each day.  Anywhos....

I awoke bright and early [if 8am counts as early] on New Years Day.  I did not party the night before.  To kill two birds with one stone I ran [3.3 mi] to lab to "play" with my mice [read:  inject their bellies with ouchie-things] and then I ran [3.5mi] back.  Exercise + science.  Good girl Connie.  I snapped some pictures on the way as I took with me a small camelback pack with my ID/keys/camera.  The above picture is Boston seen from the small wooden walkway below the BU bridge.  See how the Charles is all frozen and snowy?  The picture below is the railway that runs below the BU bridge.

Then my parents came!  It's a New Years thing for us.  They visit me New Years day.  It's really the only time they ever come up to Boston, which is a shame because we can't do lots of walking around in the cold & snow.  They brought some of my presents I couldn't carry back on the NYC->Boston bus, plus some wine, canned goods, and recently passed grandma's flat screen TV.  I'm a grown up now, I have a real TV.  I took them up to Porter Square, a part of Cambridge they never saw before.  I love that area now, there are lots of new shops & cute things to look at.  I think they really enjoyed seeing 'the real Cambridge'.  Which, its true, I love... old houses and brick sidewalks and little shops and people of all sorts and ages walking around.  We had drinks and nachos at Christopher's.  What a great place.  And the beer selection!  So many wonderful local options!  I had the Lafebeire honeyed winter bock.  Wow, really good.
 
For dinner I took them to The Garden at the Cellar, which is one of my favorite dinner places.  With great and unique foods, drinks and reasonable prices [plus I have a small crush on the head chef & his herb-farmer father] I always take visitors here.  After, we went to ImprovBoston right down the street for some comedy.  It's such a young crowd of comedians, most of them grad students and young professionals who do perform in their time off.  

But now its the second of January and the parents are gone.  I'm left of shift for myself in the inches and inches of snow that are piling up on top of the few inches we got the other day.  I'm in the mood for cozy coffee & afghans & books.  Happy New Year! 

The Family that Crafts Together

After a while you really need to get out of the house.  There's only so much holiday and eating and game playing and cooking you can do.  I hit my wits end.  We all did.  My brother got to leave because he's a waiter and had to return to Philly.  I'm a captive without a car or clue in this town my parents moved to.  My sister was just bored.  So we went to glassworks.  Armed with pliers and a tile-scorer and set free upon an entire table filed with beautiful pieces of glass we set to work on various bowl projects.

Mom was going to make an oblong shaped tray in "Thanksgiving colors" to serve cranberries from.  My sister made a small bowl for change and keys.  Mine is a medium shaped plate with a lip to [hopefully] look nice on my coffee table.  It was so different.  We were all a little overwhelmed never having done anything like this.  Its a struggle to work with new materials and tools.  But in the end it was a lot of fun.  And it took quite a while.  I just hope my little bowl turns out ok.  A while ago I went to a paint your own pottery place and made a big beautiful plate for serving cakes and desserts... and it was the only thing that broke in my move from Cleveland to Boston.  So hopefully this will fare better.  I go back to Boston tomorrow.  And I go on a diet.

In the wilds

I awoke to strange sounds this morning.  I'm in my parent's house in north Jersey.  When I looked outside it was a herd of deer munching on whatever they could find through the nearly foot of snow.  This little baby was only a few feet out the window.  My parent's cat was going crazy.  Quite the different sort of thing to wake up to.  Usually its the cooing and flapping of pigeons on my windowsill.

Have a wonderful and peaceful holiday everyone! 

Remembering

My grandmother died on Monday.  She was diagnosed with breast cancer 5 years ago and refused treatment [she was 80, her quality of life would have suffered].  I think that was a good decision.  But we learned a few weeks ago that the cancer had spread.  To her liver, stomach, lungs and bones.  A few weeks ago she stopped eating and was slowly fading away.  And besides feeling "off", she wasn't in any pain.  It was then that my dad, her son, her only child, went down to Washington DC to spend time with her.  It was then that she had a stroke, that we later learned was caused by multiple tumors in her brain.  This was last week.  Really, the stroke happened August 25th.  Last weekend I went down to spend time with her, joining my mom and my sister.  This is where it gets sad.  If you're feeling hormonal or recently lost a family member, this may make you weepy. 

She couldn't talk anymore because of the stroke.  But she understood you perfectly.  She could said yes.  And nod.  And say 'water' and 'well'.  Saying 'well' all the time is a funny verbal tick... I don't recall her saying it before.  The brain is such a mystery.  But she would say water or well for anything.  For a sip of water, yes.  But when she wanted morphine to be orally administered.  For her pillows to be fluffed.  When she was cold.  When her breathing became so labored that she needed the oxygen mask.  When she had to urinate...when I lifted her 70 pounds up off the bed to slide the bedpan under her... when I wiped her and put on a new diaper.  When she furrowed her brow and closed her eyes out of embarrassment that I, her grandchild had to see her like that.  Dying and naked.  I tried to lighten the mood with jokes.  She was always a wit.  "When ya gotta go Mommom, ya gotta go". 

Mostly though, I spent last weekend holding her hand.  Or just sitting next to her when she was awake.  Which wasn't often.  And never for long.  She was a great baker.  Muffins were her specialty and she had a freezer full of yummies.  I told her of my recent zucchini bread [pictured above].  She also made lots of jams and chutneys and was an expert at canning.  So I told her of the pickles I just made [also above].  I riffled through her drawers, unearthing old photos, every letter I've ever written her and drawing I did for her, her high school yearbook.  Her house is a museum- full of expensive antiques- it felt weird sitting in her living room, with the contents of all the drawers fanned out on the floor and a cup of coffee.  I don't recall ever drinking in that room.

I said goodbye on Sunday.  Knowing I'd never see her alive again.  Her breathing was becoming rattley- like her lungs were filling with fluids.  I knew she'd be gone in a few days.  And on Monday morning at 10am she died.  My dad called me.  I was in the middle of an experiment in lab.  Let's just say I wasn't thinking all that straight for the rest of the day.  My friends came out for a few drinks with me after work.  By the end of the day I was ok with it.  She died how she wanted to die- at home, without doctors and hospitals and tests.  She wasn't in too much pain- she just felt uncomfortable.  While she couldn't speak, she was aware mentally.  Her son was there.  And her daughter-in-law.  She saw her three grandchildren [myself, brother and sister] that week.  Her downward spiral was fast.  For 4th of July she was out organizing an Old Lady Outting in Washington for fireworks and dinner.  It was a good death. 

The funeral is this Saturday in Richmond, VA.  My grandfather is buried there, along with the rest of that side of the family.  There isn't going to be a viewing or a mass.  Its not my grandmother's style.  Just a quick service and some words at the gravesite and then a luncheon.  Knowing Mommom, it will probably be fabulous.  She was a true Southern Lady.  And very elegant. 

If you're still there, thanks for reading.  I needed to get that out.
xoxo Mommom

Family

My grandmother is very sick.  She might not make it another week.  I'm going down to DC for a few days to see her while she is still, sort of, responsive.  I'm ok.  I just want to be there to help my Dad.  I'll keep you all posted.

be well,
Connie