End of the year wind up - what were my favorite memories of this year.  Lots to chose from, but here goes:

March - Ria's 7th anniversary, cold day, and it's only the Bagges and myself.  But Solomon sets up his music for his trumpet.  Below us two young men are hanging out by their friend's grave, drinking beers and smoking.  Solomon started off with the Theme from Rocky and ended with the Star Wars theme.  What a sound in the graveyard, Gabriel waking up the dead!  The two guys joined us in applause and because it was so cold, we left soon after. 

May - little baby boy Cove arrives and Miles tells us that he heard a voice in his bathroom, say "What the hell are you waiting for?  Get her to the hospital"  We all knew who he meant.

June - Vivian has her first birthday, born a preemie, now she is the perfect size and has eyes and a face that makes you smile.

July - Wellfleet vacation, I enjoyed laying in my bed at night listening to the Bagges play Family Feud, laughing all the time.  Then the next week with the Kelly's, Jer cooking oysters and a Kelly family picture in the water at Power's Landing.

August - back to Wellfleet this time with my sisters.  Laying in bed with Maureen, drinking the fundador and laughing.  Diane remarked "sounds like a pajama party in there'.  Then the day the toilet started to make a noise like a hot water heater exploding, loud and constant.  Diane called the maintenance man, no answer, and I finally had the nerve to take off the toilet back and pull the plunger up. The noise stopped.  Apparently, it was set up to make that noise if the toilet was running too long.

September - Sabra sees the Pope and brings me back a shirt with I Love Pope Francis that I wear to the Haley clambake and the shirt is a big hit.

October - third trip to Wellfleet, seeing my old friend Caleb in the Library and watching the drones taking pictures of the event.  Listening to Jeeves and Bertie Wooster on audio book.

November - Timmy's race - he comes in second in his age group and craves the first prize award, a mug like he received 15 years ago.  After their picture is taken, the winner Bill D hands it to him, saying "this is your lucky day".

The year went fast, as they all do now.  Happy New Year


  

13 days and counting - I think I'm almost done.  48 years ago when we had our first Christmas in Tivoli, my friend, my only friend in our new location, was Jane O, and she asked me if I wanted to exchange stocking with her at Christmas.  I never did stockings before, the Murphy's didn't do that, but I said sure, and bought a red stocking at the grocery store and filled it with little things, a comb, some candy, a cheap toy.  Well, Jane handed me a homemade stocking, shaped like an old fashioned high buttoned shoe, with fake pearls and lace on the outside.  Inside were all treasures, individually wrapped, sewing needles, a pincushion, homemade candies, each wrapped with different paper, even jingle bells on some.  Boy was I embarrassed.  But the next year, I redeemed myself, copying her lead, and ever since then I have given my kids stockings,  and these stockings are the most fun to fill. 

I use to use stockings and then as they overfilled, I used boxes, now I just buy Christmas shopping bags and fill them.  I buy stuff all year, filling a box in my bedroom and then figure out who gets what.  The girls all get fancy underwear, Maria used to get black underwear like Bucky liked, and Paul gets silly men's underwear with a Christmas theme.  I really like the pair I bought for him this year.  Little things, big things, I wrap most of them, a la Jane, and I usually go over to Sabra's to watch her open her stocking.  By then, I will have forgotten most of what I filled it with, so it's as much a surprise for me.  13 days and counting.  

The Christmas lights are on the front trellis, and I see their reflection on the ceiling of my bedroom after I shut the light off.  Trying a new audio for a break from the Woosters, I rented Neil Gaiman's short stories "Trigger Warning" and the title should have tipped me off.  Trigger Warning - short fictions and disturbances.  They are disturbing and after hearing them, watching the lights flicker on the ceiling is calming. 

On the night of March 17, 2008 I was lying in bed.  What a day the whole experience had been, I kept playing if over and over in my head, trying to make sense of it.  Then I yelled down to Timmy "Put on the Christmas lights" and he didn't even question my request, just went on the porch and plugged in the lights on the trellis which had never been taken down after Christmas.  Those light lit up the ceiling and I thought that now Maria could see us.  It made me feel closer to her and that was just what I needed. 

Winter is a dark and like Neil's stories, as the cover puts it, waits for us in the dark corridors of our lives.  Let there be light.  

I told you how our church in Tivoli closed.  Now I go to Red Hook, about a 20 minute drive and except for the extra mileage, I am enjoying it very much.  The church is packed and there are lots of little kids, which I have always found entertaining in church, dating back to my own experiences with my kids.  Paul would run the zipper on his coat like a car on a track, making the appropriate noises.  Sabra took the pencil and paper which asked "who would you nominate for sainthood?"  and she penciled in "My mother, for giving birth to me."

Anyway this past week, I had several kids to choose from and selected a little boy two pews in front of me.  He was about three and was with his father and an older woman, maybe Grandma.  The father was a large man and very attentive to his son. At 9o'cock Mass our priest calls for the kids to come up to the altar and answer questions about the homily.  The little boy, who was about three, started to go then changed his mind. He was carrying a stuffed blue rabbit, that had floppy legs.  His father picked him up when he got restless, and the boy put the rabbit on his father's head.  That large man with a rabbit whose legs flopped on all sides of his head, was the sight that did it to me.  I started to laugh, and the kid made eye contact with me.  Now I was caught - he knew he had an audience.

Church to me is being part of a community.  Mrs. R who went to the church in Tivoli and always sat  two pews in front of me, joined my pew this week.  The old man next to me held a rosary in his fingers, the first time I have seen that in years.  All the old people used to finger rosaries in church.  I guess it was like bringing a toy rabbit - something to do if you needed it.   It was a good day for a person watcher like myself, and even Saint Nick all dressed came to visit the kids. 

About a month ago I sent my grandson Shane a letter.  He goes to early college and I hadn't had a chance to say goodbye, so I wrote a letter, stuck in a few bucks, and sent it off.  A few weeks later I asked his father if he had gotten the letter, I wasn't sure if he still had that post office box number.   Paul said he would ask him and I forgot about it.

Then last week, talking to Paul on the phone he said that Shane brought home the letter for his father to read it to him.  I said is my handwriting that bad? and Paul said "no, he can't read script."  Now this blew my mind.  A kid in college that can't read script.  I talked to Sabra about it, and she told me they don't teach script in school anymore.  No penmanship, no three lined paper, with each letter just the right height, nobody is learning to write or read script anymore.  Just not taught in grade school at all.

I can just picture a class going to a museum and staring at the Declaration of Independence. I had a teacher once who would call sloppy writing "chicken scratches" "How do you expect me to read and grade you with all these chicken scratches?"  So these kids are staring at the 200 year old precious document and not being able to read a word of it - nor recognize the John Hancock signature.  All chicken scratches.  Am I nuts or is this crazy?

Back from my third trip to Wellfleet this year.  Stayed at the brick house condo - Beach Rose, across the street from Mayo beach.  We hadn't stayed there since 2008.  The year before I was working on an apron for a Christmas present for Ria, the days of the week, with a Black Mammy baking a cake, hanging up clothes, going shopping, going to church, it covered all seven days.  There was a Black woman staying in one of the nearby cottages,  beautiful woman that sang opera all the time.  Anyway I was so careful not to let her see what I was working on - didn't want to offend her.  Ria loved that apron and wore it on Christmas Day.

But this year there was something new, solar panels and a constant noise.  The first day we searched for the sound, the noise like a motor running, or a pump, or a hot water heater.  Timmy kept saying he couldn't hear it, but the next morning he said it had kept him awake all the night.  That is when I spotted the solar panels on the roof and we figured it out.  That was the source of our noise.  So that was different.  And at the Oysterfestival there were drones photographing the event.  That was different.  Every time one was spotted the audience turned away from the stage, lifting phones, taking pictures, waving to the little plane darting over our heads.  One man said, "Oh, God, I hope my wife doesn't see me - she thinks I'm in the office."

On the Cape, as at home, we were listening to P.G. Wodehouse's Jeeves and Wooster every night.  If you haven't read or heard these stories, you really have to - they make you laugh right out loud.  Anyway, I was working on my latest pillow on the beach, warm sun, bay as calm as a pond - my favorite thing to do, embroidery at the beach, drinking a beer.  A couple walked by and the man said, in a perfect English Wooster accent, "nice spot to do your stitchery".   Made me smile.  Stitchery. I think that must be what heaven is like, a warm sun, the sound of waves, a cold beer and some stitchery. 

A few weeks ago the reading at church was from "the book of wisdom" which I thought was amusing.  I mean who would want to hear from "the book of stupidity", or "the book of foolishness".  But then on the ride home I passed a house with a sign in the front lawn "Repeal the Safe Act".  What do they want?  "The Unsafe Act". "The dangerous Act", the "Kill the People Act"?

Last Friday Sabra went to Central Park to wait with thousands of people to see the Pope ride by.  Security was high, the fear in the back of everyone's minds was "Don't let some crazy person shoot the Pope".  And no one did.  No one even tried, as far as we know.  But you would have to wonder, if they had, would that make a difference in this country?  Killing movie goers didn't, killing first graders didn't, killing church goers didn't.  Would a Pope make the difference? 

This summer there is a show on television about animals going crazy, and I think it is happening here as well.  This morning there was a wood chuck ON THE DECK checking out the parsley in a pot that's been there since May.  Then I went to get the paper and there was a skunk right outside the door.  He looked at me and then calmly walked away, but that could have been a disaster.

Yesterday a piliated woodpecker screamed around the house all morning.  Now I always say, "There's Ria" but yesterday, I was saying "What's the matter Ria?"  Like Lassie, I expected the woodpecker to lead me to someone in distress.

I guess it's the heat - terrible humidity, and even the pool doesn't provide the relief you were expecting.  But the tomatoes love the heat, everyday there are more and more of them.  Today I put them in bags and leave them on doorsteps, little surprises for the neighbors. 

Next week I will be in Wellfleet again, kind of a last minute vacation with my sisters.  Then in October it is the Oysterfest and another week in my favorite place.  But lets not go to far.  First things first, get rid of Mr. Woodchuck under the deck. 

We had our last Mass here in St. Sylvia's Church on Sunday.  I was amazed when I drove up, not only was my usual parking spot gone, the whole lot was full, and cars lined both sides of the street.  I found a parking spot and hurried in to see what was going on.  The church was packed, mostly with people I never saw before, but the usual 20 of my fellow regular churchgoers were found among the crowd. There was an organist, and a woman  that would later sing Ave Maria and my favorite where the chorus is Oh Maria, and Salve, salve, salve Regina.  The two usual priests were on the altar, but there was an altar boy and the priest from St. Christopher's, which will be our new parish.

I did get to sit in my usual pew, but I shared with it three other people, all strangers.  Our priest talked on and on, giving the whole history of the church, quoted all the words from Camelot, and then the song the Von Trapp girls sang - "So long, goodbye, auf vedeshein", got in a few digs about "All things news" and  prayed that this beautiful church would not become another restaurant or bistro.

We ended with everyone singing from a handout sheet, "Auld Lang Syne" and I saw more than one person pull out a handkerchief.  So that's that - that beautiful church modeled after a French one, donated by a local wealthy family, whose son was cured at Lourdes, which served all the poor Irish immigrants, working on the railroad, all those baptisms, marriages, First Communions, funerals, all those memories will never happen again.  Sad day for Tivoli, sad day for the Catholic Church.

The turkeys are back, so I thought I would come back too.  Two mothers, one with two small babies, one with seven larger babies.  Today I saw one mother climb onto a high stump and watched as the babies tried to get up, half jumping and half flying.  This must be how they learn to fly.  No nest in a tree to push them out of. 

The Farmer's Almanac has a turkey story for July.  I love the Almanac, full of interesting information,  unlike the internet, there is no need to search, it's just there.  For example, July has two full moons, the first yesterday was the "full buck" moon, on the 31st, it will be the "full thunder" moon, a blue moon. This happens every 2 1/2 tears on an average (another tidbit from the almanac).  July loses19 minutes of daylight from the beginning to the end and in 2005 Jake the dog swam in annual 1.25 mile race from Alcatraz to San Francisco.

Bucky always said "after the fourth of July, the summer is over", a saying that would bring disgust, school just was out, how could it be over?  Yet, time has proven her right again, the summer will fly, like the baby turkeys, and we will be back in reality.

Reading through Aunt Lillian's old diaries and have found some things I want to share with you.  I especially liked this:  April 13, 1999 "our 58th wedding anniversary.  The weather was just like this A.M. Easter Sunday.  Margaret and Ang Fusi dressed me in Margaret's wedding gown at Angie's house.  It was a gorgeous gown.  Handmade lace princess style coat over heavy white satin.  The lace was made by women in Italy who did that at their homes and very few women left to do it now.  That lace would be worth a fortune now.  Margaret loaned it to Betty Randall for her wedding and we never knew what happened to it.  It would never go out of style.

Margaret & Gene were our attendants. The church was so beautifully decorated for Easter.  The priest gave us a special blessing that as we were blessed with all the beautiful flowers in church without cost, we would enjoy such blessings in our life and we did.  We sure needed those blessing.  Me in my borrowed gown and only the clothes I left the " blessed Beacon View" with on my back.

Then a poem:
You got to go to that lonesome valley,
You gotta go there by yourself.
Ain't no one can go there with you,
You gotta go they by yourself.
I'm not afraid of dying, I just don't want to be there when it happens.

And a joke:  2 men sitting in diner having coffee.  Ed noticed something funny about Joe's ear.
He said, "Joe, did you know you have a suppository in your left ear?"

'"I have?" replied Joe.  "A suppository?" and he pulled it out and looked t it hard and said, "Jeez Ed, I'm glad you saw this thing! Now I know where my hearing aid is!"

Tony's mother Sybil died last night.  Years ago when Ria was a baby, she was quite sick and I took her to the doctor's office. When I left the office I met my mother waiting for me outside.  I was probably over tired from staying up all night with a sick baby, and I blurted out that I was afraid she was going to die.  My mother shook her head and told me "It's not that easy to die", words that Sybil proved.  She survived every downfall, broken hips, blood clots, infections, etc.  Sabra and Tony were with her yesterday and one nurse told them that she was a favorite "a real lady".  And she was.

Whenever she visited Sabra, she was carefully groomed, hair done, makeup done, jewelry, a beautiful girl in pictures. a beautiful older woman.  When she had to use a cane, she named it (a doctor had suggested that she would be able to remember where she left it, if the cane was named.)  So she named it Napoleon.  When she had to use a walker, it was decorated with colorful bows. 

Sybil was 94 years old when she died.  A real warrior.  A real lady.  Rest in peace Sybil.

Happy New Year - it's been a while.  I want to list the best of 2014, but first a question, a question I heard sung this summer by Judy Collins - "Who knows where the time goes?"  She talked about the song writer, Sandy Denny, a young girl of only 19 when she wrote the lyrics.  How was she so wise at such an early age?

Anyway, the best of the last:

April in Wellfleet with Laura for her 50th, joined with Jer and Gabi, the seafood, the beaches, the sand piled high from the winter storms, and then the snow, beautiful on the sand.

May the baby turkeys, 15 little yellow balls of fuzz, down, down in numbers, until seven remained, and returned daily, until you could barely tell the difference in size from the mother and babies

July, of course, the family excursion to Wellfleet, the new big house to explore, the animal in the attic, the above named concert, Crissy and the fundador, and the cocktail party at Rachael's house with the view worth a million dollars.

September with Paul, boys and Maureen at the cabin, raining, but still fun and a picture of Daddy on the wall to enjoy.

October was the Street Painting, with Atticus, Regina, Ava, Sabra and family and visit from Liz, Vivien, and Rob...and Michael to help with the Red Riding Hood.  Then the Oysterfest and a picture taken with my old friend Caleb, who looked and sounded healthy and happy.

November the announcement of a new great grandchild, to come in 2015 and in December a concert in the Middle School with Solomon's jazz group doing Autumn Leaves that brought the tears.

The best of course, is little Vivien, who came into this family two months early, tiny but complete and who now is big and beautiful and every picture posted of her brings a smile.  Happy New Year , we will never know where the time goes and what it will bring but we are starting our new adventure.