Dear Liza

Laurel’s Rainbow

Dear Liza,

When I became a teacher in 1988, I met a woman who would become a life long friend, Laurel Sherry-Armstrong. Besides being a natural teacher, she was, and is, a talented musician and poet. I think about her when I think about colors, rainbows, and spring.

One of the many pieces she wrote for use in our class of “Kinderbloomers” was called The Colors of Promise. It is about rainbows.

The lyrics are a lovely way to remember the colors of the rainbow in order, a lesson in what causes rainbows, and a hint at the God’s biblical promise after The Flood, never to destroy mankind again.

“When sun shines through raindrops

An arc of hope is seen

Red on top, orange, yellow and green.

Indigo blue and violet, too.

Down come the colors of promise to you.”

Laurel retired from teaching before I did, and now lives half the year in Ashland, Oregon, and the other half in Honolulu, Hawaii. She plays music with her lovely husband Milton, dances the hula, and teaches kids how to play the ukulele.

She is living the life I would have wished for her; happy, busy, filled with music and love.

Laurel, dancing with Milton at Auntie Katie’s wedding

Love,

Grandma Judy

Quarantined Easter

Dear Liza,

Well, here we are again, celebrating a special day in isolation. I am so blessed to be ‘stuck’ with the two people I have chosen to spend my life with! Our weather was bright and sunny, and we could hear that a lot of people were outside enjoying themselves.

First thing Easter morning, Auntie Bridgett and I had regular breakfast, then spent some time dyeing eggs. We weren’t able to get any of the Easter Egg dying kits, and the vinegar-and-food coloring isn’t quite as good, but it was fun, anyway. We used to other half of the hard boiled eggs to make deviled eggs for later.

We decorated the table with flowers I picked yesterday, Auntie Bridgett’s New Years’ hat, and candy sent from Auntie Bridgett’s mom, Donna. It was all so pretty!

Auntie Bridgett made haroset and fried some sausages, and I learned a new thing, Oatmeal pancakes! They are yummy and sweet. And there was matzoh, of course, because it is still Passover.

The day was especially lazy, with a nap for me between each meal. Isolation is weird. But later in the day, Bridgett’s sister Esther called us on video, and we got to see her, Nick, and cousin Madilyn. We even got to visit with Harold the Stufftie and see him in the mask we sent to keep him safe from whatever stuffties can catch.

Before bed we watched Fred Astaire and Judy Garland dance and fall in love in Easter Parade, the Time Team from British tv dig into a Spitfire crash site from WWII, and a rerun of the British Baking Show featuring puddings.

We are not exactly setting the world on fire, but getting by and enjoying the time together.

Sending you pages of love!

Love,

Grandma Judy

Tele-Seder-ing

Dear Liza,

This week is Passover, when we usually have a dinner with family to celebrate being together after all the hard times Jewish people have been through. This year we are staying apart and remembering, instead.

But the day started with little things. Dear Auntie Bridgett trimmed my hair, and Grandpa Nelson’s, because we were getting very shaggy. She has a good eye and did a nice job!

Then I finished the masks I promised to friends in Salinas and we all walked to the Postal Annex to send them off. We are getting used to putting on masks every time we leave the house, though I will be glad when they are no longer needed. They steam up my glasses! Still, it was an incredibly beautiful Spring day, and the art and flowers were blooming.

Back home, we sat out on the balcony to rest and read, listening to conversations of dog walkers and folks going out for some take out pizza. We walked down to Rendezvous off Belmont to pick up some take out Manti and Poke…both yummy, even without Nour’s good company and ambiance.

Auntie Katie texted us to arrange a Seder via Skype. She would do her two hours of deliveries from Books with Pictures while the lamb cooked in the slow cooker, then give us a call. We set up candles, wine, and matzoh on the table, along with Grandpa Nelson’s laptop computer.

It worked! We were all able to see and hear each other, read the same Haggadah, and enjoy being silly with each other. We even got to watch the cousins hunt for and find the Afikomen, and negotiate for its return. Their price? A pillow fight! It was clearly time to end the Skype and let the feathers fly … over there.

Having to stay separate to stay safe is weird. It feels like the usual reaction to stress is to huddle together with all your people, but here we are, miles apart on purpose. But different problems call for different solutions, I guess.

Auntie Katie, realizing she has just agreed to a pillow fight

Hag Sameach!

Grandma Judy

All That Leftover Fabric

Dear Liza,

When we lived in our bigger house in Salinas, I had a whole room to store my sewing things and fabrics. In our smaller house in Portland, I have a corner of the guest room and a box in the garage. It was hard to choose which fabrics to bring along.

I chose really cool ones, stylish and funky, but also some that were sentimental favorites or generic enough to be useful on a variety of projects.

And now I am finding uses for all of them! Making masks for friends and family is a good way of making pretty, useful things with fabric and thread I already have.

Also, your seventh birthday is coming up, and I have found enough pink to make you a dress! Since it’s not a surprise (your Mommy had to measure you, since I can’t get out to buy a pattern), I can show you the bits I have done.

I have also made a “mock up” Liza, to try the parts on as I get them basted.

And so far, it’s looking pretty good! Lots of mistakes, but since I started early, I have time to rip seams and do them over. When it is perfect, I will send it to you.

I hope you are staying inside, practicing reading and math, and having fun being with your Mommy and Daddy. I miss you and will see you when we can!

Love,

Grandma Judy

It’s the Little Things

Dear Liza,

We have been staying inside a lot lately. Most days we don’t even step out the front door. And with our chilly spring, even the balcony isn’t very inviting.

Yesterday when Grandpa Nelson and I walked half a mile to the grocery store, it felt like being let out of jail. We noticed the chilly sunshine on our faces and the tiny leaves sprouting from the trees, looking like lacy underwear. We noticed the kids on the trampoline, jumping high enough to laugh and wave at us over their back fence.

When we got home, we noticed that the dining table was covered with my mask-sewing stuff. Solution? A picnic! Auntie Bridgett and Grandpa Nelson moved the coffee table, laid out Momma’s picnic tablecloth, and put together a tray of crackers, Hard boiled eggs, goat Brie (yum), and fruits and veggies. It was a nice break from ordinary dinner, and let me start sewing the next day without having to set everything back up.

And all over the neighborhood, we are noticing that neighbors are reminding each other that they are loved. We find notes posted on poles and chalk writings that make us smile and feel connected. Even when I’m not out in it, I love our neighborhood.

Love,

Grandma Judy

And Now, Masks

Dear Liza,

For weeks I’ve been wondering if I should start making masks for us and other folks to wear for some level of protection from the Coronavirus, either in catching or transmitting it.

I looked on line and there were many different kinds of masks being sewn by home seamstresses like me, but no one could agree on what worked, what would help, what was a waste of time. So I waited.

Now, the CDC has said that some form of cloth masks is better than nothing, and we should all be wearing them. So I got out the fabric and started making these really basic cotton fabric masks.

These aren’t medical level protection, and they don’t even have filters. They are sort of a glorified spit guard. But they are better than the nothing we’ve been using.

There was a learning curve, of course. Two layers of some fabrics, plus the folds to help the mask fit, is too thick to breath through easily. So, lighter fabrics are good, and sometimes one layer is plenty.

A friend mentioned that each person should have two masks, one to wear while the other is in the wash, so now I’m making two per person.

And once I posted the pictures of Auntie Bridgett looking so cute in hers, family has been asking for some! I am having fun sewing, mailing, and using some of the cool fabrics I have collected for years.

Because hey, what else do I have to do right now?

Love,

Grandma Judy

Monopoly!

Dear Liza,

Since we are all inside together more, we have been playing more games. Auntie Bridgett and I play Bananagrams, and we three all play Scrabble.

I should have known it would, eventually, come to this. Last night we played Monopoly.

Auntie Bridgett spent a lot of time in Jail…

We tried playing it together years ago, but Grandpa Nelson’s tendency to just wipe us out, every time, sort of took the fun out of it. So, we put the game in the cupboard. The way, way, back of the cupboard.

I was the top hat, Auntie Bridgett the dog, and Grandpa Nelson, the race car

And last night, after Straight from New York pizza and a nice Beaujolais, we tried again. Determined to not repeat former mistakes, I went in with the strategy of buying everything I landed on, even if I had to mortgage properties to do it. I bought, I swapped, I built, and before the wine was gone, I won! It was weird, but true. I was a tycoon!

So now I know that the winning strategy is to overbuy, overextend, and overbuild. No wonder I never won before! I had been using good sense. Turns out, in Monopoly, greed is what works.

I’m glad real life isn’t like that.

Love,

Grandma Judy

Happy Birthday, Vincent!

Dear Liza,

March 30 was the birthday of one of my favorites artists, Vincent Van Gogh. He was born in 1853, so we celebrated his 167th birthday. We ate homemade French onion soup with crusty bread from Grand Central Bakery, and watched Willem Dafoe’s portrayal of Vincent in “At Eternity’s Gate.”

Vincent was born in the Netherlands, and his father was a minister. He tried to do a lot of jobs before turning to painting, including art dealer and minister. Dutch painters (those from the Netherlands) used mostly browns and grays at the time, and he didn’t start using the bright colors we love until he went to Paris to paint in 1886.

He didn’t stay in Paris for long, but took his new love of color to the south of France when he moved to the little town of Arles. His deep blues and shimmering golden wheat fields capture, for me, the essence of the Provencial region.

Although he is now one of the world’s most famous painters, during his lifetime he sold only one painting. His mental health was unsteady and he didn’t take proper care of himself. He ate too little and drank far too much, and had long periods when he was hospitalized. Through all his troubles, he was supported by his brother Theo, an art dealer in Paris.

In the last two years of his life, Vincent did over 200 paintings and 100 drawings. These are the vibrant irises, wheat fields and self-portraits we know him by.

Wheat fields with crows, painted the same month he died

Vincent died in Arles in 1890 of a gunshot wound at the age of 37. For years it was believed he shot himself, but now some folks say he was shot by some boys in the town, though there is no evidence of this. Movies like “At Eternity’s Gate” and “Loving Vincent” propose this idea, but we may never know.

Vincent Van Gogh had a hard life and an eye for color that was ahead of his time. He said he wanted to paint “to show people how he saw and how he felt.”

His works are gifts to our eyes and our souls.

Love,

Grandma Judy

Harder than I thought

Dear Liza,

The shut down because of Covid-19 is now in its third week here in Portland. It is starting to get me down a little.

The last time I sat down with anyone besides Auntie Bridgett or Grandpa Nelson was March 11, when I had a cup of Golden Fire tea with dear Misha Moon at the Rocking Frog. Now, with the extra time imposed on us, we have both finished drafts of our stories that we were talking about.

That same day I met a good soul named Roger, and we exchanged stories of our childhoods in Southern California. His had a stepdad who was a building inspector in Watts, not far from where we lived for a while in Bellflower.

Grandpa Nelson and I had lunch at McMenamin’s Barley Mill the next day, just before they closed up shop for the duration.

These are the sort of chance meetings and conversations that I have taken for granted, and now, for a while at least, they are over. I miss my species.

Mouse enjoys some inter species time with Luna

We eat, chat, read and write, here in our pleasant little house. There is enough room that we can be alone when we need to be, and we have games and movies and food, and even enough toilet paper. There is nothing really wrong, as long as we stay inside and away from people.

So, I heave a big sigh and tell myself to get over it, and decide what to do today.

Love,

Grandma Judy