X Marks the Spot

Mrs. Nesbitt's ABC Wednesday round 3

and ABC Wednesday Anthology
have reached what you might call a crossroads.
At least it's marked with the letter "X".

X marks the house in which we live. (photo from Google Earth.)

Steps from street down to front entry
of house marked by X

Granny Smith at foot of stairs
in front of door to entryway and patio
of house marked by X.
(Photo by Daria Bishop)

I Believe in Love, Music and Joy

The Sunday Scribblings prompt is "I believe..."

I have done less scribbling than picture-posting this time around. I am feeling euphoric about our wonderful Christmas yesterday, and these photos seem to me to be an integral part of it that I want to share with everyone.

How can I not believe in the special magic worked at Christmas? This family is one to which music is a special (and frequent and practically continuous) joy. But it is love that ties it all together.

Above are my son Otto and his sweet wife Kristin at a special moment on Christmas morning. They are both accomplished musicians with experience on varied instruments, but the ones that are seldom out of their hands are Otto's concertina and Kristin's violin. Hundreds of students have profited by Kristin's music teaching and have caught her infectious enthusiasm.

Above: Our granddaughter Anna gives her father a hug. She feels especially lucky to have arrived yesterday five days after she was expected, having been stranded in New York by flight cancellations. She had spent the semester in England, so this is the first time they have seen each other since September. Sharing the sofa is my husband, Otto, unwrapping a gift that Santa Claus (looking remarkably like Anna) has just given him.

Below: An accordion was just what Anna had been wanting to add to her musical repertoire. Here her father gives her a few pointers.



Above: And now back to the instrument she, like her mother, loves and plays most often. In the background her father is accompanying her on his concertina. Several of the pieces they are playing are of Anna's own composition.

Above: Kristin joins them in marvelously spontaneous, soaring improvisations to compliment the music in progress.

Above: Ocean and his Daddy Joe and Mama April arrive and Ocean unwraps his first gift, a bicycle horn for his bicycle. His bicycle, on which he has become proficient, is a real one but without pedals. Ocean immediately discovered that the bicycle horn made a satisfyingly loud sound. He called it his "trumpet", and the family ensemble played pieces to which he could join his rhythmic beeping.

Below: When Ocean discovered that the ensemble would come to an abrupt stop if he ceased to beep, he was overcome with laughter as he started and stopped the music.

Below: Ocean's mother April watches the concert.

And should I mention that we feasted on smoked black cod and salmon (contributed by Joe and April) with a zillion other delicious fixings?

I hope you all are enjoying this most joyous of seasons!

Merry Christmas!

Joy to the world! Ocean beams over the gift of a bicycle horn which makes a wonderfully satisfying noise.

W is for Wild, Wierd, Washington Weather

ABC Wednesday round 3. Go here for links to other participating blogs.

ABC Wednesday Anthology for non-comment posts.


This is a late ABC entry due to unexpected circumstances. Otto (husband) was transported to the local hospital here in Port Townsend early Monday morning with abdominal pains. We had to go by emergency fire dept. ambulance since there wasn't a single surface anywhere outside that wasn't covered with snow or ice after a heavy overnight snowfall on top of the one I posted about on Sunday. He is fine now (although a little tired) and we arrived back at Kristin's and Otto's (son) about a half hour ago.

Kristin took all of the following pictures except for the ones below of the glamorous view from our hospital window. ("Our" because I stayed with husband Otto at the hospital).

1

View from hospital window (most snow had melted from trees).

View from hospital window

of downtown Port Townsend

And Joy oh Joy! Anna just arrived 5 days late from London via New York and storms! We're all together for Christmas Eve. Merry Christmas!

No Longer Dreaming of a White Christmas

This is the cozy Port Townsend, Washington, home of our son, Otto, and of his dear wife, Kristin. This photo was taken this morning by Kristin after last night's snowfall. Otto (husband) and I are here to celebrate Christmas with them and Granddaughter Anna. Anna has been studying drama in London with her Adelphi class this last semester, and we were all looking forward to seeing her yesterday. The storms across the country have put off her expected time of arrival in Seattle until tomorrow - a disappointment, but her late arrival will make our reunion even sweeter. She slept last night on the floor of the JFK terminal but tonight will be in the New York home of the grandmother of a simillarly stranded friend.

We Californians are unaccustomed to snow. Port Townsend has snowfall almost as rarely as Berkeley, situated as it is on the coast of Puget Sound in the rain shadow of the Olympics. Kristin also snapped these following pics of bird tracks in the snow and heather with snow caps.



The next photos are mine - the first showing why I hesitated to put my foot on the snow-slicked front stairs and the second, of shadows on snow, from inside a nice warm car.


I hope you are enjoying the season as much as we are! Have good fellowship and fantastic music and fun in the snow.

FLASH! A disappointed Anna has just phoned to say that her flight has been cancelled until Christmas Day!

Late in the Day

The Sunday Scribblings prompt is late.

AGE: OLD

Thank you for your help -- I guess.
I wish I didn’t need it though.
I’d like to climb the stairs unaided,
load grocery bags into the car,
swing a laughing great-grandbaby
high into the air. But now
I fear that I might let her drop.

Thank you for your help -- I guess.
It’s kind of you to notice that
this frail, white-haired and slow-paced woman -- who
(I find to my surprise) is me --
needs your arm’s support to balance,
your hands to tie a flopping shoelace
too far away for her to reach.

Thank you. No! I don’t need help, don’t want anybody’s help to use the automatic checkout! Do you need help with your computer? I’d be glad to give you pointers, teach you how to use the graphics, process words, upload a web page.

Don’t assume “white-haired” means “brainless.” I can write a poem or story. A skull as old as mine is packed with memories I can use for reference.

But thanks for helping when I need it.
Please don’t resent my own resentment
when you note needs so real and present
that signify a final waning.

Phyllis Sterling (Granny) Smith

V is for Variegated

Mrs. Nesbitt's ABC Wednesday Round 3
and ABC Wednesday Anthology
have reached the letter V.

We parked in the parking lot of our favorite restaurant (where we can feast on wild Alaskan salmon) and the nose of Lorelei (our car) was almost against this small tree back-lit by the setting sun. The light shone through these persistent autumn leaves who apparently don't know that they are inappropriate for the holiday season!