Saturday, November 22, 2014

Big Hero 6. Again.


It was snow-raining, and everywhere there were cars. All the cars in town seemed to be out en route to some emergency, so we took our time and tried to avoid the craziness. But it was ok, because we were going to pick up Mother. For a movie. In short, for Big Hero 6.

We had seen it, but wanted to again - some things are just meant to be relived. Mother had neither seen nor heard of it but was game, because she would be with her daughters. And that is always an adventure.

We two pulled up outside her apartment building, scooped her up, and were off. We remembered going with her to a movie in 1968 called Thoroughly Modern Millie while on a trip to Canada. It was fabulous because Mary Tyler Moore and Julie Andrews were in it and were fabulous. Today it would be a nerd kid and Squishy Marshmallow Man - maybe not really yet fabulous, but close.



We hoped to arrive in time NOT to miss the Disney cartoon we loved and wanted to see again; stood in a slow line (Mockingjay. Need I say more?); and said, "Three for Big Hero 6, please."  But the girl replied, "This one is in 3D, ladies. Do you still want tickets?" as if by looking at us she knew we might not. But we weren't going to stop now. Oh no, nothing would keep us from taking our mother to see our favorite character, Baymax.

So we were handed our 3D glasses and our tickets, and slid into the seats just as the Disney cartoon began. It was even better the second time! Hahahaha!

Our mother had never experienced 3D movies before. We barely had. So we checked with her after the cartoon to see how it felt (some people report feelings of dizziness, and we were taking no chances). "It's great!" she said, as the opening credits began.

It was so much fun. The three of us sitting in a theater with dark glasses made quite a picture and I, of course, had to take a Selfie.


Watching it, I was reminded of Terminator 2. Remember? Arnold Schwarzenegger defeating the bad guys with the young John Connor. Huge muscle man/squishy marshmallow man with diminutive kid, forging a bond and winning the battle? Yep. Fun.

I think seeing Big Hero 6 for a second time was sweet. A lot like Thoroughly Modern Millie up in Canada - we saw it twice too. Because some things are just meant to be relived. 


See you along the way!
the SconeLady

Friday, November 21, 2014

The Hunger Games Rides Again


MockingJay

The lovely daughter always keeps me current, and this time was no exception. "Mom. The Hunger Games - have you read it?"

I had not ever heard of such Games, and did not know that they existed. But of course I was curious.

"Nooo, I haven't," I replied. "What are they?"

"Well it's a book series about young people who find themselves in fights to the death. And the main character wants to save her family and her friends. And she goes about doing it. It's smashing."

This sounded promising and I was willing to give it a go. The part about fights to the death, I wasn't terribly sure about; but saving her family was along my lines. My daughter brought out the first book, and I never looked back.

She was right - it was smashing! It takes me a while to read books, which meant that she had to wait quite a while to hear my reactions, whether or not I had 'met Haymich Abernathy', or 'Caesar Flickerman'. But I eventually did get to these characters (I really really like Haymich), and in fact spent the summer carrying the book around with me. This was especially popular with restaurant waitresses.

"Oh my goodness, are you reading THE HUNGER GAMES?? Where are you in the story?" they would breathe. And off we'd launch into an in depth discussion of the injustices of the System, and how we were just SURE Katniss would win the day. Total strangers on a level playing field. In a restaurant.

I remember something similar happening to me a few summers ago when I was reading that Vampire book series, which I just momentarily forgot the name of. But now I've remembered it - Twilight. Restaurant waitresses in Carmel glommed onto me then too, when they saw I was carrying one of the books. I've never made friends quite so quickly.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/nomadic_lass/6866528550/

So the SconeLady will soon make it inside a movie theater to view this third in the movie series. Mockingjay. I have been warned, though, of certain amounts of carnage. From time to time I've had to call out, "Spoilers!" to protect myself from an early Reveal. We are away from home right now or I would certainly see it with the lovely daughter. She could explain the unexplainable, should anything confusing show up. That would be fun.

What is really hard to understand is how these authors get such amazing ideas, and make billions of dollars or pounds out of them. Take for instance J.K. Rowling, who wrote her first chapter of Harry Potter on a napkin, or something. From a napkin to billions of dollars?

Now how is that fair?


See you along the way!
the SconeLady



photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/brokendownlover/6608549961/">KendraMillerPhotography</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/">cc</a>

photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/nomadic_lass/6866528550/">Nomadic Lass</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/">cc</a>

Thursday, November 20, 2014

The Gallery Where She Once Lived, and Died


I was enchanted by the sculptures she had designed and created and left for us. She was in many ways a reclusive sort of artist, as were many in and around St Ives Cornwall. But reclusive or no, the world knew her work and wanted it.

The day I visited her gallery, housed in the place she had called home for nearly 25 years, was a calm and sunny day. Alone, I began in the big room which held the largest collection of her pieces on the premises. The sheer number of media stunned this gallery patron that day: bronze, brass, copper, wood, string, stone, marble, limestone, painted plaster, alabaster, concrete, silver, and aluminum! Are you shocked?  Amazed? Who wouldn't be?


1956-1959 Brass and Cotton String on Teak Bast
by Barbara Hepworth
https://www.flickr.com/photos/momardi/5561211063/

The lovely thing was that I could take all the time I wished, in looking. No one would hurry anyone along. The Docents were available and hovering, if needed. Knowledgeable; kind. I did speak with someone, eventually. But not just at first.

I think my favorite items were crafted of wood and string. Or perhaps just wood. It makes no difference which, for all of her pieces hold a special fascination. And each piece is explained for you on a laminated card that you carry with you but are meant to leave behind. Don't worry, the SconeLady left hers behind! (although I wished I did not have to).

From the larger room I ascended up and out, toward one of her work rooms. They contained the tools of her trade and were left largely as she herself had left them; sitting on benches or tables, ready to be picked up and utilized the next day. The general hue of all her rooms was white - something I love! - and no area was really scoured or completely organized for a 'company' visit. I liked that, because it seemed to make her work more real, more like 'us'.

From the work rooms I proceeded out of doors to gaze at the sculptures in the afternoon sun. As I moved slowly around I noticed a maintenance man raking leaves, piling them, taking them off. He smiled, and I kept meandering. Soon I came upon the tiniest little bedroom anyone could ever wish to have. I do not think I would have liked sleeping inside of it, myself. I thought, 'Could this possibly have been HER bedroom? 

Really?' The maintenance man continued his raking, but looked over at me looking.



"Hello, do you have any questions, Miss?" He kindly asked.

"Well yes. I was just wondering - is this her bedroom? It is awfully small.."

"It is indeed hers." he said, and I waited for more. 

"But it is so unlikely," I continued, after a silence. 

"Yes, it is where she always slept. She wanted to be alone, and had this built to accommodate her."

I had not heard of the circumstances of Ms. Hepworth's death, except that there had been a fire. I ventured, "Umm, did she die - near here?"

"Oh, well, she died right here, Miss, right here," and he pointed to the tiny bedroom.

"What?" I exclaimed. "HERE?"

And the story poured forth. "Ms. Hepworth was fond of a bit of a drink, shall we say, and liked to have it just before bed. At the same time, she liked her little bit of a cigarette.."

I was fairly well stunned by this, and stared. "Good heavens. What happened?"

"She fell asleep smoking, that's what happened," he said. "The fire brigade were called and they came to the rescue but it was too late.."

"Oh my. Did you live in St Ives at the time?"

"Oh, yes, Miss, I did. In fact, my father was in the fire brigade and was the one that found her. But, as I said, it was too late."

There seemed nothing to be said to this except "How very terribly sad," to which he responded, "Yes, oh yes, indeed..." and picked up his rake once more.

And thus did I meet the son of the fireman who tried to rescue Barbara Hepworth. How very, terribly, sad.


See you along the way!
the SconeLady














photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/momardi/5561211063/">momardi</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/">cc</a>

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Land of the Saints

Detail from the painting "Cornubia, Land of the Saints" by John Miller, painted in 1980 to help celebrate the Truro Cathedral's centenary. It shows the outline of Cornwall with every parish church marked with a small Celtic cross.
*******************************************************************************

The painting was a stunner, and I wish I had had time to peruse it deeply. It is called "Cornubia, Land of the Saints". What would it mean to be a Land of the Saints? I wondered.

Our somber, though sometimes humorous, guide spoke to this. "It is a painting done by artist John Miller, to acknowledge every parish church in Cornwall. He believed each to be God-planted, and wanted to lose track of none."

John Miller. I instantly liked this man.

We stared at the painting and saw that each church had been designated with a small Celtic cross. The little bits of light looked almost as if they were directed there by Heaven itself. 

And then in the midst of Cornwall, a larger shaft of light descended from a height, drawing the observer's attention and consideration. It was this flash of light that indicated the Cathedral. Truro Cathedral. Our little group of 4 or 5 stood gazing. We wanted to stay gazing, but heard the guide's kindly voice calling us onward. "But - the painting!" I softly protested; and no one heard.

I promised myself I would search this painting out at some later time. Find out more about John Miller and his inspiration, his appreciation for each parish church in Cornwall.

He must have loved Cornwall at least as much as I do, having poured such an enormous amount of love and time into his painting. For me, it represented the view point from on High. As though we were looking down from where God sat, considering it and praying for it. Much more than a Bird's Eye View - a bird would have perished had he flown so high. But God? Distance presents no difficulty for Him. The tiny specks of light and Celtic crosses draw the Eye downwards, and each one has a name:


  • St Ia's Parish Church
  • Fowey Parish Church
  • St Illogan Parish Church
  • Parish of Par
  • Camborne Parish Church
...and so on.

Wouldn't you just love to travel to each? To seek and find them, some perhaps obscure, others somehow distinguished. This painting gives me a keen affection for them, for all they have done, and are doing, and will continue to do. 

So that's what it means to be the Land of the Saints.


See you along the way!
the SconeLady




"A vision of Cornwall. That shaft of light shooting up into the sky from Truro Cathedral is also the artist’s personal vision."
The Vaishnava Voice

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Promises

*(all is well, and many would not have been so unsettled as the SconeLady! I certainly have miles to go in the area of trust).
--------------------------

It was scary. And so I was scared. Coming suddenly upon thick ice, in the dark, miles from home, was not funny. 

It wasn't a very welcoming prospect, but there was nothing for it now but to forge ahead.

We had thought it a smart idea to go on and finish the long drive in one go. Why not? The roads looked good, online. Clear. Dry. But then the phone rang and it was Mother, gently letting us know that perhaps there were accidents ahead, and ice, and uncertainty. It had been on the news, but I tried hard to reason with myself that it would all be gone before we reached it.

Only it wasn't gone, and in fact was worsening as the temps swiftly fell. Yikes! What to do? Well, you are in the situation without any really viable way out; you must just do. Home, and Mother, were a mere 30 miles away, and I desperately wanted both. The only way to get them was to forge.

Of course, I prayed a whole lot. Made rash promises that feel a little embarrassing now, but were fervent and sincere then. Rather like the soldier in a trench. But I knew from long experience that He listens to them all, and knows. Understands.


https://www.flickr.com/photos/vgm8383/2260340489/

Being scared in a pickup truck in winter with inches of ice beneath is no comforting place to be. 

It had happened in an airliner when, just moments after takeoff the huge craft suddenly dipped in a downward motion, and everyone screamed. We later learned that the pilot had had to avoid 'something'; we never knew what.

It had happened when I, and 3 others, had hurtled down a steep cliff on top of an inverted truck hood, in the snow and in the dark.

It had happened when I was told I would have spinal fusion surgery to insert a long titanium rod, and loose my mobility in the neck.

And, it had happened when I found myself tumbling over inside a car without a seatbelt, and the world became a gray and noisy tin can.

It had happened numbers of other times. And will happen again. But always, there have been the prayers. There will always be prayers. Because there will always be God. And my promises to Him are not nearly so important as His, to me. 


See you along the way!
the SconeLady





Deuteronomy 31:6King James Version (KJV)

Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the Lord thy God, he it is that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.

Hebrews 13:5-6

Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you."  So we say with confidence, "The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?"


photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/vgm8383/2260340489/">vgm8383</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/">cc</a>

Monday, November 17, 2014

Whose Halo

I saw a baby today! O.M.Goodness. 


https://www.flickr.com/photos/insightimaging/3695471693/





It was all wrapped up in a fluff of Pink, and I am positive that there was a halo. In a McDonald's on I-5. It seems impossible, but that little corner table in the back was a small slice of heaven. 

The halo seemed to have enveloped the two women who were with the baby, for they positively glowed. You could tell just by looking that this was the first baby to grace this mother and grandmother. Grandmother was feeding this tiny and precious thing a bottle. It may seem mundane to the uninitiated; but to those few of us who happened to see, it was the Earth.

Of course, I wanted a photo. But though I longed to pull out the phone and click away, I just couldn't. And I'm all the better for it, too.

The young mother was weary, it was plain to see. Her baby was perhaps two weeks old, and we all know the changes that little household has gone through. But although tired, she was obviously blessed - and knew it.

I stood several feet away trying not to be too obviously enamored - but failed. The grandmother glanced up, and smiled. She was tired too. But in that moment, being tired meant nothing compared with the sweet bundle she held.

But it was time to go, and I tore myself away. As we neared the door, I whispered to my husband, "Honey - look at that Baby!!"

We glanced back, and saw the tiny head being patted by both women. In the instant just before we left, I caught the look between them. Mother, daughter. It is an ageless look, really; one that I treasure myself. And it happened in a McDonald's. On I-5. 

There is a phrase for moments such as this one, coined by a friend: 




See you along the way!
the SconeLady


https://www.flickr.com/photos/ellasdad/310175676/


photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/insightimaging/3695471693/">Insight Imaging: John A Ryan Photography</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/">cc</a>

photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/ellasdad/310175676/">Ella's Dad</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">cc</a>

Sunday, November 16, 2014

In A Northerly Direction


It didn't turn out to be a travel day, after all. The SconeLady and her husband packed, and loaded, and even left the house. They only got a few blocks, for suddenly the SconeLady felt poorly and was swiftly getting worse. Alas! It would have been such a strategic day to travel, but these plans were interrupted. Tomorrow, then. We will go tomorrow.

In the meantime, I will share some of my favorite pics from yesterday's party:

A Blue Gill is caught and revealed

These kids have pretty much grown up fishing from a dock, and now it is as natural as anything to thrill to that tug on the end of the line. Not just once or twice, but multiple times yesterday this little one trooped up the steps to the house with a dramatic announcement. "Mommy! Grandma! We caught ANOTHER ONE - come see!"

It was the sweetest thing.

To add to this, they 'made' their own fishing poles to try. They have regular ones, of course, but then they found two long sticks that could work as poles. They rigged them up, cast off, and then actually caught fish with them. We were all astounded. Even perplexed.

We do not think they would have ever stopped fishing. We think it could have gone on all night long. They never tire of it. It's the hope, I think. Once you have caught your first fish, you always have the hope that another one will strike. These guys have caught it, Big Time. Their grandpa is thrilled.

In the midst of all this fishing, and catching, and drama, some of us were in the kitchen eating scones:


The All'Scone recipe delivers


By this time, all of the Lemon Poppyseed ones had disappeared. But since there were more Butter Scones left, we generously imbibed (it could be this which set the SconeLady up for feeling poorly, next morning. Not sure. Just sayin'..). 

(Or - the follow-on scone she had first thing this morning might not have helped..). But we will try again, tomorrow. All our bags are still packed, and we are both still ready to go. Somewhere North, our mothers (the two most beautiful ladies ever), and brothers, and sisters patiently await. 

How can two people be so incredibly blessed?


See you along the way!
the SconeLady