Veseventures

I've noticed something lately: I'm becoming my parents, while my offspring are becoming, well, me (though a much younger me). For starters, there are the aches and pains. When my kids were little, and I wanted to take them to the beach or park so that they could get rid of some excess energy (and I wouldn't have to think about the housework), I'd call my grandmother up. Now, mind you, I called both of my grandmothers on a regular basis. They were very different from each other, but definitely cool, each in their own way. But while Dad's mom lived in New York (state, not city), Mom's mom and I lived in the same Florida county; therefore, it was Grandma Hallock I'd call for the weather update. After catching up on the pleasantries, I'd mention that I was planning to take the kids out. "The meteorologist on Channel 8 said that there's a forty percent chance of rain today, something about a cold front coming through, so I'm wondering if it...

I'm a writer, and I'm also a reader. I feel that the two are strongly connected; most of the writers I know also read a lot. Some of us touch base periodically to get caught up on books, articles and stories we've read: "Just started reading..." "Oh, I read that last month. Loved it; couldn't put it down," or "I really couldn't get into to at all because...Finally had to put it down." I've picked up several books - and enjoyed them - on the word of other writer/readers. I've also felt better knowing that someone else whose writing I enjoy and whose opinion on good books is similar to mine says that he or she really couldn't get into whatever book I found lacking. Most of us have favorite books that we go back to time and again. One of my favorites is Harper Lee's classic, To Kill A Mockingbird . I just finished it again for the umpteenth time this morning. The copy I put back on one of my many bookshelves is eas...

My daughter M.H. and her family moved here over the summer, arriving June 30. M. and B. had lived in Rhode Island, which is where B.'s family is from, for the past 15 years; their daughter was born there. After moving to their own apartment in July, their car proceeded to die; nothing like a blown engine to kill a car. Granted, it wasn't their fault; M.H. had checked fluid levels, etc. But that particular car had been trouble from the start. They picked up a scooter - basic transportation - but not something that can be used to cart the family around. Which brings us to holidays... B. is one of several siblings, all of whom met up at their mom's house for holiday meals. The plan, once they were in the apartment here, was that they'd come here for holidays, thus starting new memories...but this was before the car died. The buses, which run on an altered holiday schedule, would have to work, since cabs between their place and ours is a little much. But since buses...

Whether you're a Christian, Jewish, Muslim, B'nai, atheist, chances are you have holiday memories. Most of us have them, and, if we've been exceptionally lucky, most of those holiday memories are good. A few of mine deal with having my grandparents on either side coming to our house, opening presents (at Christmas), and large meals involving turkeys and/or ham, depending on which set of grandparents were coming over. In one house, when we lived in Connecticut, there was a music room (it was a large Colonial house), where we'd all gather to sing holiday music while Mom played the piano. Very Norman Rockwell-esque. Now, I'm sure that things weren't always wonderful - someone would have too much to drink, this relative wasn't talking with that one - but we tend to forget those less-than-stellar memories, or, if we remember them, gloss them over into something bordering on amusing. Once I moved out on my own, the memories changed. Better? Just different. ...

Q: What does an indoor cat do? A: Anything it wants, with cattitude. So, I have two cats. Maybe the correct phrasing is that I live with two cats, and give in to most of their whims, the main exception being that I don't let them hang around outside. That's not to say they don't occasionally make a mad dash for the door... Karma Kitty is a miniature black panther, who came into our house first (see "I'm going to the cats..." ), and who is the king of all he surveys. His sister, Drexie Calabash, is a delicate-looking black and grey tabby with a white belly and white paws. She's half his size, but managed to get him in line the second day we had her. Nothing like getting the aggressive old-timer into a headlock, then proceeding to kick him in the face while biting his ears. After the third time, even the most stubbornly territorial cat will call for a truce. The two are five-and-a-half years old, with very distinct personalities (or catalities ), but t...

I've been goofing off lately from my morning walk/run. There was a time when I wouldn't think of not going for a morning run. It tends to help me focus, zone-out, get-it-together...you get the idea. Those of you who run or race-walk - or even just plain walk - know exactly what I'm talking about: it's that me time that we frequently forget about in the crazy, fast-paced world we live in. It helps enough that when Paul was still here, if I didn't go out for a run and was just a tad bit, um, cranky , he'd tell me, "Oh, for crying out loud, go , already!" The man was as subtle as "a box of rocks" (his words). I'd managed to keep up the running for years...then, slowly, missed days at a time. It was one thing when I'd have an early class and have to catch the bus to get there on time. Injuries also made it difficult. Two years ago, after falling off a ladder at roof level and landing on a cement driveway on Halloween, I was unabl...

Where does one start when talking about someone who has been part of one's family history? Especially when that person has recently passed away. That is what I'm wondering when writing about Reverend Robert W. Castle, Jr. Who's that? you might be asking. And how does he fit into your family's history? Well, I guess that's a good place to start. Grab a cup of coffee or tea (or cocoa, if you'd like), sit back, and I'll tell you. My parents, Jane and John, went to college at St. Lawrence University in Canton, New York; that was where they met. Of course, as anyone who has gone to college - or anywhere for any length of time - they met many people, some of whom were destined to be part of their lives. Robert Castle was one of those people. Bob was a student at St. Lawrence, and graduated the same time as my parents. Within months, my folks married, and Bob went on to Berkeley Divinity School in New Haven, becoming an Episcopal priest; I'm not sure ...

So, I mentioned my photography, right? The three large framed photos? (Check out last Sunday's post on selective deafness...the part about the yard sale.) The darn things are 20 X 30 inches, without the frames. Most people who've seen them have been somewhat impressed, judging by comments made. I'd joined the Pinellas Park Art Society earlier in the year. The group meets every month, holds classes in photography, water colors, drawing, oils, you name it, and has art shows that change on a monthly basis. Their web site is www.pinellasart.com . This month's show is a combination of two shows in one: Florida: Past, Present and Future, and Mayor's Choice. With the Mayor's Choice, Pinellas Park's mayor shows up, looks at the artwork, and purchases art to display in City buildings. It's a win-win situation; the artists whose artwork is purchased earn something from their art, the artists also get publicity from having their work hanging throughout the ...