New chapter in my life.. new blog

Alone again and back to the Iowa Farm

2008-05-20T18:25:00.010-04:00

Bill (and Patti) Update [21May08]:

Warm Greetings to our friends who are reading this.

It's been going onto 4 months now that our Patti vanished from our lives (30 Jan). Death is sort of like a silent "explosion" where something or someone disappears entirely, a radical change that occurs in the blink of an eye, the animating Spirit separating from and leaving the body behind.
Then there is that period afterwards where a kind of slow-motion fall-out ensues over the days, weeks, months in all the people who were close by and left behind with having to reconcile in various degrees all the internal conflicts that are always created after someone we care about... dies.
I suppose things are better now for all of us. Well of course things are better. Normalcy returns faster or slower relative to the degree of connectedness that one has to the deceased.
Things are better for me and I think I was standing closer than anyone when the event of Patti releasing that last breath occurred in the early morning hours.
I've reclaimed my familiar aloneness, or perhaps it has reclaimed me.
No matter, I miss her like crazy more often then not. Her picture and lock of hair ride with me on the dash of Ruby as though we still are driving quietly together.
I miss what we had for those quick four+ years of our two Spirits "dancing" the Main Dance of the Universe.
Often, I would ask her when we both knew she was on her way out, "We had fun didn't we..?" and she would always, always shake her head in the affirmative with a little smile and the look of love in her own eyes..

Two children of God.. often being so incredibly silly.
Best playmates being as stupid together as the circumstance and our own
spontaneous creativity would permit.
Being..dancing to the real but silent Music of the Cosmos, the essence of which is indeed Love. It's an experience that does not come to everyone in this life and I am the better for it although often in my aloneness I do not feel it to be so.

Still, such stuff of life tends to pass by too quickly. When it is gone there is a longing for it to "come back..", a longing for Love that can and often does occur even between old married couples after the flame changes its texture through the years, as it always does.. often becoming just so small, at times extinguishing itself like a candle run out of wax through no real fault of anyone.
Things happen, life happens.
Those who say we choose everything in our life must surely be choosing their own idiocy as well.
Change, diminishment and endings are always the greater part of life and to think they are not is delusional.

Then, after a time, renewal.
Well, perhaps renewal. Maybe renewal, but obviously not always. Sometimes when things die they are just dead and that's the end of that.
It is all such a mystery and faith must and does enter the picture at that boundary separating our experiences with our unknowingness
We carry on. We are carried on. Tears dry. Laughter returns, though sometimes not quite as hearty as before.

* * *

I've been back to the Iowa farm for nearly two weeks.
The old farmhouse required some serious cleaning of mouse poo and cobwebs and dust and I don't want to mention what else. (think raccoon and possum) I have had little time (that is, energy left from my work day) to post an entry here, so I'm giving it a whirl this evening, sitting here with the computer in front of the big picture window that my father installed into this old house some 55 years ago.

I feel somehow "contained" here, (not oppressively like being in a prison) but more so a sensation of protection in this place of my arising as though some part of me was still a little baby in my mother's arms and warmth, only now it is the house, the yard, the hills surrounding creating a kind of "bowl" of which I am down here in
the middle of it all.
I sense myself being cared for by even the land itself.
What a thing to feel, something I've never felt, nor will ever feel walking the busy, noisy streets of Washington, DC.

It is hard to explain. But it is here, right in the middle of all these hills of grass and grazing horses with their beautiful and frisky new-borns running all over the place in short spurts. It is among these acres and acres of newly planted fields of
corn and soybeans that I am able to "recharge my batteries" so to speak.
Being here never fails to "trickle-charge" my Spirit and regain my real strength which has more to do with spiritual stamina than muscle.
This little "postage stamp" of land in nearly the middle of American somehow envelopes me with care and always puts back the pieces of my occasionally
fractured soul.

It is doing that now.
Mowing the lawn.. re-screening the porch.. I've got some plumbing to do tomorrow. Then there's my continuing to put siding on the house..painting, replacing terribly worn shingles on the roof (well ok.. nobody likes to re-roof.. it is grinding, backbreaking work and no fun at all). I haven't started that project yet and am in no hurry to get to it, but I must, I really must before returning to that other world in Washington.

Renewal.. even coming in the form of simply washing all these windows so I may see clearly out and upon the world around me.

Speaking of renewal.. I have a "dead soldier" here and so will quit writing for now, crack open my 2nd beer for the evening and sit on the porch swing for awhile before putting together my evening meal. It's 7:30pm in DC..
Bob and Barbara are watching The News
Hour.. Margaret is probably zooming around in her BMW.. no telling what the rest of you are doing. No telling what Patti is doing. It is my pure hope that she and Skip are back with each other once again.

I just now noticed that there are ads being placed on Patti's Memorial slide show.
How crass is that?!
I need to find a different host for the slide show.
UPDATE: Thanks to Beth's generous offer to host the Memorial slide show on her own server, it is now ad-free, as it should and must be. Thanks again Beth.

Oh, one last thing to each and every one of you reading this:
In the spirit of staying connected to any of you who wish to stay connected to me, I am generating another "Bill (& Patti) Update" email listing for those wanting to be notified whenever I put on a new entry here. The Feedblitz notification system has not been working well after all and I have eliminated it entirely.
If you want to be on this new list-serve to be notified then you MUST send to me a request to be put on my (shit)list. I insist upon this and that includes
you, Barbara and Bob, and you Margaret, and you Brie and Josh and Judy and Tom and.. and... and anyone else who has just received the one-time email I sent out to you all today.
My email address is still bbouslaugh at yahoo which most of you have.
I never know when I'm going to put something new on, but I guarantee you there will be more to come. Now that my focus is no longer just taking care of Patti and I am once again out and about in the world, posting could be more often than it has been for the last year or so.
Let me know if you want to be on this new email listing.
If not, then hey.. do nothing.
:-)bill

Mindfulness

2008-04-30T13:09:00.004-04:00

For the past week I have been experiencing a rather strange but not entirely unfamiliar sensation that I have not much experienced in my life. I say "not much" because I have experienced it before, although infrequently and only during those times following some or another great event that has taken place on a personal level, significant only to myself.
The word that keeps coming to mind to describe [inadequately] the sensation is "mindfulness" although I am not certain that is what it is. It is definitely a pervading sensation.
The remembered times of my past when I did experience this "state" are few and far between: A few days following my departure from the army back in the fall of '68... then again after my mother died in 1991.. followed by Skip's death 3 months later as Patti and Judy and I drove somewhere, to some restaurant by the water. I felt it again for the 3 days on the road during my journey from Oregon to the farm in 2001 and now once more for the past week but this time is the longest that it has ever stayed with me. It seems to occur when certain intense things are finished.
Patti's sickness and death, my unreconciled loss of her presence (perhaps becoming more reconciled?), the stress of the two memorial services, The anticipated arrival of my daughter whom I had not seen in too many years.. has all come to be experienced and now are all receding into my past.

This indescribable sensation is by no means a bad thing. In fact if I could have my way with it I would keep it close to me. I like it a lot. Perhaps it's nothing more than the "swing of the pendulum".. or a wave of pressure having passed by. Perhaps after seemingly unrelenting stress comes a kind of self-awareness of non-stress, a kind of automatic "letting go" which afterwards gives rise to a place of inner peacefulness.. a kind of "deflation" of pressure where I can actually feel that I belong here in Life, surrounded by all these things of Life.. which clearly includes both my body and thoughts.

I say "my body" and "my thoughts" because with this sensation that I am writing about there is a line between what is Me and those things about me that I claim as mine.
But I am not them. I am not my self during this time of calmness.

I googled the word "mindfulness" and directly came up with this site which sort of describes the sensation, except so far for the week it is not something I have had to work at to attain. It's just there after I wake-up in the morning. (by the way, I have finally begun to sleep the whole the night through, no more waking up at 4:34AM.. the exact time that Patti took her last breath). I think I could better describe it as a kind of free-floating calmness being watched over by a detached Me-ness, if that makes any sense.
If any of you reading this has ever walked around outside in the midst of people and activity while having your brain plugged into an ipod, listening to some favorite tune, you'll know the flavor of what I'm talking about. There is a similarity of detachment from the outside world when you "plug-in" and take a walk thru the world happening all around you. (If you haven't ever done this I highly recommend it).
The difference is that now my self is also a part of that outside world.
bizarre but most pleasant. This could be addictive. ..and it's legal.

I walked to the bookstore today to try to find any book on "mindfulness" to take with me on my upcoming return journey to the farm slated to commence tomorrow morning (thursday morning).
No book on mindfulness appeared to me.. but I did purchase two others that almost hopped into my hands to take them home: Ten Zen Seconds (maisel) and There Are No Accidents (Hopcke). We'll see what they are all about between now and then.

Anyway.. House is cleaned.. laundry finished, bags packed, car nearly packed, and then there is also an urge of not wanting to leave and journey cross-country without my Patti. Maybe I'll keep her seat in the car clear of maps and things just in case she decides to ride along as we always did before.

Guess I'm ready. sort of. Never stop exploring. There's always something, "in here" as well as "out there".

[posted 30 April 2008]

It's been awhile..

2008-04-21T18:20:00.004-04:00

It's been a few years since the daughter and I have see one another so having her jet plane down from NYC friday and spend some time with her old man has been a treat.
I especially wanted her to meet certain folks with whom I had met and became good friends with through Patti...Bob, Barbara, Margaret, Judy & Tom.
Unfortunately Barbara came down with the flaming crud and so could not
party with us on Sunday night.
I felt I needed to provide at least a modicum of entertainment for Brie and myself, so we drove out to Great Falls on her first day here just to walk around a bit, see the Potomac River doing it's little rushy thing (noisy!).
It was a fine weather day, maybe just a tad too hot and we soon discovered that we weren't the only folks looking for a little diversion on a Saturday afternoon.
There was quite a few river seekers there in fact.

On Sunday morning I dragged her to church!

Now that is the first time I've ever done that and the point was not to
save her sorry ass soul from some kind of eternal damnation but rather for the both of us to hear some fine singing performances from the Unitarian All-Souls church about a ten minute drive away.
The sermon-theme was of course Earth Day since yesterday was Earth Day.
They did not disappoint by finishing up the morning with a rousing blues piece (complete with whale sounds, some moving singing and trumpeteering from an
old blind guy).
The church is always packed. I think it's because of the moving singing by the gospel choir and this huge, huge pipe organ that can shake their stain glass windows as well as rattle and roll any kind of sleepy body on a sleepy sunday morning.
I like what they do there and I will return. The singing
sometimes transports me to that near teary-eyed place (easy to do these past months) and the sermons can be (but not always) inspiring.

We were a little early when I took this photo of Brie sitting so lonely-like in the pew. Behind her is the organ I mentioned.

The daughter and I have had a good time reconnecting these past 3 days. Yesterday and today lots and lots of rain has been drenching the Washington area and so we just decided to have a mellow indoor day today, playing with our computers, talking and taking it easy.
Tonight Brie is fixing us a nice pesto dinner replete with garlic bread and salad. We'll watch a horror flick and try not to laugh too much nor have nightmares afterwards.

I will take her to the airport really early tomorrow morning for her 6:30, 45 minute flight back to the city. She has promised to to not let so much time pass between future visits.
The next time she's in town we'll try again to party on at my friends the Bob and Barbara Smuckers. (poor cousins to the jelly people)
Barbara does like to party.
She is a bad-ass Mother Smucker.

Coming up
Soon I will be heading back to the farm in western Iowa.
After all that has transpired with Patti and myself in the last 6 months (and more) I think it will really do my spirit good to return to my roots. It's been two years. Spending time on the old farm, the place of my arising, and continuing the never-ending job of fixing the old house is good for my soul.
Sitting around the campfire circle out in the yard in the evening, occasionally with some of my relatives but more often than not with only myself and hopefully Patti's Spirit..(and Kaiser the cat). It is a healthy thing for me to do and will "re-charge my batteries".
I will leave Washington on May 1st and return to DC sometime in July.
As any of you have been following this blog know, I have not been posting much here on billandpatti for the last year or so. Understandable so.
I hope to change that as I get out and about and begin again to do more
things out there in the world.
I invite any of you reading this now and who may be so inclined for the future, to check in with me here from time to time. I highly recommend that you submit your email in the form below. The notification system works good most of the time and
it serves as a good reminder to interested people that I've just posted a new entry.

Also, I reiterate my request that if anyone has any dreams of Patti, to email them to me as best you can remember. Matthew had one recently as did I, crazy and seemingly irrelevant as they may be. Still, I will take whatever I can get from Patti.. or from other people's dream creations. I miss "us" a lot.
If I can get one or two more dreams from anyone or myself I will
post them here for all to read. This blog remains about both Patti and myself and even though I seem not to be able to communicate with her in the Spirit World, I intend on keeping this little running commentary about the both of us.

trust & love.. trust and love. (and staying connected to real friends and family) That's the stuff that will get us through anything that Life may test us with.
Keep that in mind the next time the shit hits your own fan.. because it most certainly will.
Bill (& Patti)

There, she is gone..

2008-03-25T15:04:00.003-04:00

"I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then some one at my side says: 'There, she is gone!'

'Gone where?'

Gone from my sight. That is all...

Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when some one at my side says:
'There, she is gone!' there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: 'Here she comes!'

--Henry Van Dyke

(thank you Matthew & Barbara & Haditha)

chopping wood.. carrying water

2008-03-07T10:08:00.005-05:00

or.. a superficial attempt at painting some lightness onto a dark background

OK... but forget the "carrying water" part.

One of the things I've been doing which has been helping to "burn off" some of this dark energy that has formed within, is to drive over to our good friends Bob and Barbara and chop wood for their fireplace.

New construction next door had destroyed a couple of their trees.. and Bob, having no inhibitions at fussing at the people responsible, proposed the deal that they should now at least chainsaw the trees into 18 inch rounds for him, which they agreed to do.

We considered renting a motorized splitter but decided the cost was prohibitive and besides which neither Bob nor myself are too keen on actually putting in a full days labor, which this little project would surely have required of us.
We are both retired, you know.

So I had a better (?), but certainly less expensive method of getting all this wood whacked into fireplace pieces and then carried and stacked up by their house.
We would buy an eighteen dollar chopping maul and we would just do-it-ourselves on a "whenever-we-feel-like-it" basis.

So that's where it is at right now. I figure that we are about a quarter of the way through the pile.
Of course we had to try to make a foolish little video of our woodsy, He-man like adventure.

Patti's memorial: fait accompli

2008-03-02T14:26:00.004-05:00

I want to thank everyone who came to Patti's Memorial service on Wednesday.

What a crowd was there and filled to over-flowing with so much love and warmth for her. I was amazed and it goes without saying, highly pleased.
I just hope Patti was there in spirit so she could see so many who loved her.

For those of you who could not attend I will tell you that in spite of all the endless troubles in dealing with the ISD church to even have a memorial date set and then at the last moment on the evening before the memorial was to happen, we were informed that no eulogy was even going to be given, we all just "threw our hands into the air" (enough of this BS already!) and decided that it had now become truly and completely pointless to even have the memorial at the church.
(The old cliche' of that last straw breaking a camel's back might apply here.)
Then, with some fast and furious phone calling and emails into the late hours of tuesday night we all decided to go to the Lebonese Taverna only a mile or so from our apartment, to meet there at 3 pm the next afternoon.

It was a perfect choice. It could not have been better.

A large room (with stain glass church windows even!), tables for 50 people were moved to the outer perimeter of the room along with a buffet of delicious Lebonese cuisine.
On one of the tables we put Karla's large laptop computer to loop the slideshow that I put together for the occasion, along with a large photo of Patti and some smaller ones as well.
After perhaps an hour of standing and sitting and eating and socializing, a spoon rapping on a glass (thankyou Richard) as our call to attention.
It was then that Tom Esposito taking on the natural borne mantle of MC, brought our attention together to now focus on our memories of Patti and any story-telling of days gone by.

There was tears.. there was laughter.. there was specially written poetry and letters read. There was incredible love for our Patricia, from all who attended.

This was the real Memorial for Patti... and it was done with perfection and with class.
For those of you who could not attend or because of the last minute confusion I am truly sorry.
And I thank all of you who spent so much time and energy (and frustration) in making it work out as it should and in protecting me as much as you could. (Nancy, Judy, Ruthie, Barbara, Margaret, Karla..you are all magnificent!)
Supposedly there is being planned by the ISD church for yet another Memorial for Patti on the 15th of March, but who's to say for sure.
However.. in speaking only for myself, that memorial would be decidedly anti-climactic to the one that has already occurred and for it's worth, I will not be attending it.

I feel a certain palpable relief in simply returning to my own thoughts, sad as they may be, of my beloved wife, rather than the stress of yet another memorial with ever more and more problems to overcome.

The Memorial to Patti is done.

In the poignant written words from Margaret into the sign-in book at the Memorial:

"To my friend Patti.. please always be with us"

I like that... I like it a lot.

Messages from the Depths and Above

2008-02-20T12:52:00.002-05:00

When someone that we love "passes away", when someone whose spirit that we've known and laughed with and cared for up to that moment when, shockingly enough they become no longer with us but "somewhere else" like something out of the Twilight Zone, what do we, at that moment and beyond that deeply etched javascript:void(0)moment, have left? There's the body.. laying there on the bed, deadly still and cooling down by the moment.
But where is the animation, the energy that was there just a moment ago but now has "passed on"? Or even has that animating force passed on?
Has that energy really retained some kind of coherence in some way resembling the individuality we once knew and loved? or has it just simply extinguished itself like a candle flame running out of wax and the upward trail of the smoky remains dissapating into the air..?
I tell you it is a freakish feeling not to know for certain if any of our many belief systems, often wrapped in familiar cliche' and relentlessly affirmed by so many of us as.. The Truth, is what has reeeally happened to this once warm-bloodied human beingness that so many of had for so many years called "friend".

Of course these are the age-old questions that I am not about to answer with any kind credible authority, regardless of my own belief systems which I, like everyone else hold tight to.

What do we have left after the energy is gone... the body removed by the men in black quietly closing the door behind them..?
A lock of hair, a wedding ring, in time a jar of ashes, pictures, paintings, favorite clothes so often worn, a shower cap still on the back of the toilet where she had last put it, now over a month ago.
Don't touch it.. don't move it. Don't move anything lest I upset the tenuous make-believe connection that seems to be stretching thinner by the day.

What do we have left that we can hold onto? Memories are poorly made stand-ins for the real thing.
In going through some audio recording on my computer that I had made in September of '06 I accidentally.. sychronistically, came across a snippet of Patti speaking as she was speaking to me then feeding the ducks, as though she was telling me now..
"try not to be sad though we're leaving".
Uh.. easier said than done, honey..
3 weeks have gone by. I still walk through the day with a tightness in my throat, "on the edge" as our Hospice Nurse told me yesterday on the phone.

Every night as I turn out the light I wonder if that "Patti Spirit" will speak to me as I am asleep. I have questions but not about what it is like on the "other side", but rather "are you alright?" and "Did you find Skip?" but mostly, simply, "are you OK now?"
As Kalil Gibran wrote centuries ago: Love knows not its depth until the hour of separation.

So far I have not "heard" from Patti in my dreams.
I am somewhat self-ashamed of that. You would think that at the very least, my unconscious mind that creates all these other dreamy scenarios every night would somehow involve itself with creating something that has such profound effects upon me during my waking hours of everyday.
But nothing. I dream of printing presses and old white cadillacs.
Maybe I'm just not "psychic" enough. Maybe I'm just another dumb brute of a man doing what we guys do. I question myself along these lines. I shut out the light again, pulling up the covers and again wondering and wanting to make some kind of contact, real or imagined, I don't care at this point, to answer my questions.

But my being too insensitive to receive any kind of message either from the depths or above does not mean that others cannot receive messages. It is to this thought that I write this to all of you who are reading this and who knew Patti.

If you have had or will have any contact with her while in your own dream worlds, please let me know and I will publish your "Message from the Depths and Above" here for all of us, who also may have questions needing answers, that we may read and consider for ourselves.

One such friend of ours has had the dream, the message, the connection.. whatever you wish to call it. I am so glad I was told the dream-message during the course of our conversations. It has helped me and no doubt the dreamer as well (who wishes to remain anonymous):

The dream is follows:

Patti was just there. In my dream. I cannot honestly say it was more than that. Her hair was light blonde, like cotton candy, only softer, like a fluffy cloud surrounding her head. She was so joyful, throwing her arms around me and repeatedly kissing my cheek. I noticed how smooth her skin was, and how completely beautiful and healthy she looked. She kept saying "I feel great" as though she really wanted me to understand. It was not so much to me but from her.

Then it was obvious to us (not sure who else was there but I was not alone), that it was time for her to be on her way. She left rather reluctantly. After awhile - moments, longer?, she returned, fluttering about, happy, free, with three other female beings who seemed -- I don't know, older, more mature yet that's not quite right either, wearing dark clothes (Patti wore white). We had a very clear sense that they were from the other side. Again we became aware it was time for Patti to go, to move on. She seemed oblivious. Finally, she drifted away, happily, with her three companions. We felt it was goodbye.

So what do we, at that moment when the Spirit departs and beyond that deeply etched moment have left?
A little bit more than what we had a moment ago.
Thank you. Thankyou both.

Memorial/Celebration service

2008-02-15T17:23:00.003-05:00

CONFIRMED!
Patti's memorial service will be on the 27th of February.. 3pm..
at the INSTITUTE FOR SPIRITUAL DEVELOPMENT,
5419 SHERIER PALCE, NW; WASHINGTON, DC 20016
(it's one block from the intersection of MacArthur & Arizona, in the Chain Bridge area)

Congratulations to everyone (seriously) for actually pinning down a date. (it's been a struggle) There will be a second "celebration" of Patti's life on the
15th of March, same place, not sure of the time yet. Everyone is welcome to both. Bring your hankies.
(I hate memorials, but Patti requested one so we are all going to give her two!)

looking for flowers on a gravel road

2008-02-14T09:20:00.002-05:00

"I could have had a V-8!"

2008-02-12T04:46:00.000-05:00

Yesterday a veritable barrage of phone calls put both my answering machine, my brain and my patience to the test.
From dear little Aunt Ruthie to the lawyer, to Mayor Fenty urging me to vote for Obama and a host of other well-meaning folk ringing out their messages inbetween my ears.

But it was "Sniffles" from Seattle who pushed me over my line last night with the last telephone call of the day concerning ever more "stuff" as to when this memorial to Patti is to be. My thought was that the memorial to Patti has become more important than Patti.

Shortly after we hung up I had my "V-8" revelation. Just unplug these goddamn telephones. (before waking up [again] at 4am a little while ago, I dreamed that I was trying to hide this little guy, with big glasses, from the storm troopers.. I told him if he would just hold real still while they were in the room that they would not see him.)
Well hell's bells a-ringin', that IS all I need to do, unplug the phones, and no one will be able to find me.

Ruby and I may run to Florida during memorial week. I need to remember again how to become a singular force now that Patti made it into the parallel world. We might even be able to stay at John & Ruth's empty condo, visit my sister in the Keys, catch the ponies at Gulfstream or Hieleah, maybe even check out Epcott for a day.
Sounds like more fun than this is.
The latest date for the memorial will be the 15th of March.
Let me know how it all turns out.

2008-02-06T07:29:00.000-05:00

Memories are a piss-poor substitute for the real thing.. and the real thing is by day receding into the past. I hate this more than anything else.
It has been a week now since Patti died last Wednesday.
Everyday we all move further and further away from the reality of Patti, the hands-on, touchy, talky reality of Patti that tells us that at any time I could walk into the next room and ask her something, or you could pick up the telephone or send her an email and she would be there to respond to you.
At some point up ahead in time she will vanish on the ocean horizon and the only thing left to carry along will be all these memories trying their futile best to substitite for that real thing.
Clicking on the music above again opens the floodgates. Nice way to start the day, eh?

No word yet when the memorial will be. -bill

It's a slippery slope

2007-06-05T12:08:00.000-04:00

For the last few weeks Barbara, Bob and I have been constructing a treehouse/slide for their grandkids, Hailey and Leah. It's been a fun little project and is nearly complete.

Lots of back-and-forth discussions between everyone about kid-safety which of course is everyone's principle concern. The little ones are pretty young and thus unlearned in the ways of paying attention and cautiousness.
After all was said and done about safety we think (we hope) we've just about covered all the possibilities against any kind of potential accident.
I might add that Barbara here is the chief architect in the project. She is a fine wood-worker with her own well-equipped woodshop in their basement area.

Of course all of us adults (using the term loosely) had a go at going down the slide.
For a some of us it was a really tight squeeze sliding down (heheh, I won't mention names for fear of retribution). Also, we old turkeys tended to light on our butts, unlike grandkids Hailey and Leah who would zoom down and light on their feet, then run back to the ladder and do it again.. and again.

Below is Irma. This lady is a delight to be around. She is funny and kind and finds great joy in doing such things as sliding down a kid's slide.

Irma and I created the below video of her coming down the slide to send to Irma's daughter who lives somewhere not around here. (ok, I forgot where.. florida maybe.) But it was such fun that I decided to post it here as well.

"How long has it been since you've done this?"
"Never I think!.. ..oh except this morning"

Little B and the Isle of St Lucia

2007-05-20T17:42:00.000-04:00

Patti & I don't usually post about other people. (afterall this little blog of ours IS about us!) However this is one time I think I will.

Yesterday I received an email of a Flickr link sent to a number of folks from a young lass that I had not heard from for quite some time. Her name is Brieanna Endura and above is a photo I took of her many years ago.
Time passes when we aren't looking and now she is, ..ummm about 21 years old (Ok, I could be off on that, Brieana) and I will give readers a little personal history about Brieana and myself along with some silly pictures of her that I keep in an old cardboard box containing my entire photo-history.

I think I first met Brieana when she was perhaps 6 or 7 years old. Her older sister, Autumn, was one of my own daughter's best playmates all through their grade school years. Often Autumn would come to our home in Oregon and "Little B" (as we called her then to distinguish between her name Brieana and my daughter's name also being Brieanna), Little B would tag along.

She and her sister Autumn quickly wiggled their ways into my heart nearly as much as my own daughter had. (remember "missed a spot!" ?? hahhaa I still think that thought whenever I see someone else is cleaning something and have to say it to them.)

But the one thing that especially endeared Brieana to me was her unusual interest in black and white photography which by happenstance I was also engaged in, even to the point of building my own darkroom and being a member of a local photo arts gallery.
So.. how many 6 or 7 or 8 year olds do we know that are seriously interested in fine art black and white photography? Little B was/is most unique.

Brieana had this clunky old camera that had to have black tape around it to prevent light leaks. Money was tight for her and her family as well as for myself, but still I could afford to at least buy her some film and have it developed so she could take her pictures.

Unfortunately there was always too little money during those times to spend more on such non-necessities as photography by either her family or my own to seriously help develop this intense interest she had in photography. So we both had to make due with what we little we had.
For me it was both meaningful and grand fun to take her under my wing as "photographic mentor" to this unusual child who actually wanted to learn not only about the technical aspects of photography but also in developing her own path toward artistic expression in the photographic fine arts.
Along with her mother Debbi, we even tried to build a small darkroom for her out in an old shed that was behind their home at the time. Using extra equipment that I had on hand and scrap lumber, tape and blankets to prevent light leaks, we tried.. but our efforts didn't work out too well in the end.

Still... I could tell from several of her works we had printed off that Little B had some kind of genuine talent. She had this keen "eye" for the unusual and capturing metaphorical image that bespoke of some or another emotion which is an important aspect of any art. I could tell that she could see and then capture images on film in a way much greater than I ever could, and I wanted to help her as much as possible to at least develop the fundamentals of the craft, along with perhaps a kind of initial guidance in not only printmaking, but more important, to consciously become the hunter. (of the meaningful image metaphor)

BUT.. as life does play it's little game with so many of us, the age old story of the lack of money and available time played it's part in our "failure to launch". At least that was the case while I was still there in Oregon.

Zoom forward to the present and my receiving Little B's email link to her Flickr slideshow. My first thought was, "Where the hell is St Lucia?" for I had not a clue that it was an island in the Carribbean.
Nice warm temps, blue skies, lots of sunshine, layed back life style, killer hurricanes.. sweet.

Little B is no longer quite so little as I knew her then. She's all grown up now and has become a striking young woman... Indeed, I'm wondering if anyone but me even thinks of her as "little b" anymore. doubtful.

So, here then is the link to the island of St Lucia as was sent to me. Little B will be your tour guide for her slide show.
take the pictorial journey. explore. feel the ocean breeze. enjoy..

and thanks Brieana! ... for keeping an old man on your mailing list. It brought to me a smile.

bill

Get 'em while they're hot!

2007-04-28T11:22:00.000-04:00

Patti won't wave her own flag so I'll do it for her.
Congratulations go to her.
Yesterday Patti sold another one of her glorious paintings, "Negative Space", to fine art collector David Stang of Washington, DC.

The painting was one of my personal favorites of Patti's and I hated to see it go, but since I know it shall have a good and appreciative home I guess it will be ok.

So.. exactly what is negative space?

In art, generally, negative space is the space around and between the subject(s) of an image. Negative space may be most evident when the space around a subject, and not the subject itself, forms an interesting or artistically relevant shape, and such space is occasionally used to artistic effect as the "real" subject of an image. The use of negative space is a key element of artistic composition.

In a two-tone, black-and-white image, a subject is normally depicted in black and the space around it is left blank (white), thereby forming a silhouette of the subject. However, reversing the tones so that the space around the subject is printed black and the subject itself is left blank causes the negative space to be apparent as it forms shapes around the subject. Rubin's vase is an optical illusion in which the negative space around the vase forms the silhouettes of two faces in profile.

The use of equal negative space, as a balance to positive space, in a composition is considered by many as good design.

This basic and often overlooked principle of design makes a composition more appealing to the viewer without their knowledge of why because it gives their eye a "place to rest".

For more of Patti's work visit her website... and don't forget to scroll on down to participate in the moment.

Nose in the air

2007-04-18T21:45:00.000-04:00

OH! Another subscriber to the blatherings of bill and Patti. This time thanks to our good friends Bob and Barbara for subscribing to our little blog. (It makes us feel loved, it does.)

Both Patti and myself spend a good deal of time in front of our computers, probably too much time and that is especially true throughout the winter when our being engaged with the outside world seems [by choice] to become severely limited by little more than gazing out the window at the tops of trees. Fortunately (or unfortunately perhaps) we both are more or less content with our self-imposed "exile" from the world at large only punctuated with cross-town trips every week or two for dinner at our good friends' (above) home, or the occasional afternoon movie (we've even laxed out on that this winter).
I prefer the concept of "hibernation" to that of "sloth" but either/or, it seems to have become our norm. Some of us really do slow down after 60...and dem dar "Golden Years" have opened up their cushy, warm arms and embraced us both for better or for worse. (never thought I'd make it this far, but hey, I'm not complainin', my parts are all still working painfree. Knock on wood.)

But then in spring when the sap rises in one's veins, Patti & I, urged on by some subtle natural law to "come forth" out of our sleepy routine, shake off the dust and mange from a winter's worth of laying around doing not much of anything and to..gee, "let's just go do something different for a change".

Nose in the air, sensing the scent of new life and ready to connect with the Great and Ubiquitious Whatever...

However, we're not there yet. Until that happens, interesting journal-keeping is definitely at a bare miniumum until we actually do make a plan, get off our dead-like fluffy-buns, get into the car, start it up and actually drive off into great unknown in search of some kind adventure to report on.
Spring or not, sap or not (damn these Golden Years! c'mon sap, rise!), we're not quite there yet... and in case no one has noticed, our writing and lack of writing here magnificently reflects our sorry state of unconscious bliss. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

(more blah, blah)
Well now, I suppose I could write about what we will have for dinner tonight and how to make it. Or with slightly more effort I could bleed on and on about nothing until you, dear reader, died of a kind of intellectual blood loss and concurrent asphyxiation, but what would be the point in doing that? Far too many blog writers are already engaged in "yawn journalism" of which I am narcissistically and sadistically participating in right now. OH, you lucky, lucky subscribers, you. Now if I can just get you "lurkers" out there in the shadows to also subscribe (oh yes, I know who you are, heheh), who knows, I might just be inspired to do something genuinely creative. So scroll down a bit and sign up for the year. You can always unsubscribe, you know.

Oh, I almost forgot. As you see the ole bloggerooney has been modified a bit. Change is good and I like what I've got so far.
This year there will be a full photo BEHIND the journal entries which will serve as background. Scroll all the way down and you will see the full image sans blog entry. My intention is to have future background photos relevant to the newest blog entry.

Right now there is a really cool photo of Patti in a Kayak on Eagle Lake during our trip to the Adirondacks last september. I've also installed an audio button so you will be able to hear our own recorded ambient sounds during the moment I took the picture. Some I'll set to music I have on hand.
It should be fun.. and that in itself is enough reason for you to subscribe. right? So sign up below and you will no longer have to check back just to see some same old entry that hasn't yet been replaced.

Ok.. enough for now. It's after 6 and I gotta get dinner going.. tonight it's Tofu "chicken" Paprikish (without the chicken). ..and no, I'm not writing about how to make it. but damn it is good!
:-)
bill & patti

Daughter got a brand new blog

2007-04-04T16:54:00.000-04:00

Brie has her first blog site at Crowdawg.
Now maybe I can keep up with her comings and goings, at least more so than what I been able to for the last few years.
Having recently (like a couple days ago) flew the California chicken coupe, she alighted in downtown Connecticut and is cooling her heels at her main squeeze family home. (none of whom I have had the privilege of meeting as yet, but hope to some day.)

So welcome to the blogosphere, Brie.

Having an online journal can be an addictive thing (addictive in a good way) for some writers.. and serve absolutely no purpose at all for others who have better ways to spend their time. There are countless valid reasons to put or not to put slices of one's life "out there" in psyber-space for anyone on the planet with a computer to take a peek at. One either hears the calling.. or not.

I have always thought of creating and maintaining an online journal as a grand and easy way to "stay connected" with friends, family and even others folks whom you will never, ever meet in "real life". I've been at it for over 5 years now.. and when people visit our site and especially when anyone signs on I feel a kind of life affirming connection to them...as though I was writing just to them, all of which is a good thing to feel.
Hopefully Brie will find the time and energy parallel to the great demands of attending graduate school in NYC to keep up her blog.
But as she herself wrote in her notice email, "we'll see"..

My "staying connected" thought reminds me:
Because Patti and my entries are soooo hit-n-miss, sporadic and sometimes going for weeks without posting anything, I highly recommend that anyone finding interest in wanting to be/stay connected to Patti and myself thru our jounalistic "brain drizzles" here, to sign-up your email below. If you do, you will be automatically notified of any and all entries that we post here. Our most recent "sign-me-up"s for our upcoming spring/summer/fall season-blog-fiasco are Sue (welcome back Sue) and cousin Joe (welcome Joe, what a nice surprise!).
soooo.. don't be shy, scroll down and sign-up if you're so inclined. Patti & I can promise you at least a couple of grins once in a while. wothehell!

ok.. it's after 5 o'clock and time for BEER. I'm outa here.

beeeer.. beeeeeerrr...
bill

March to the Pentagon protest march

2007-03-18T16:35:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I bundled up and took the Metro down to the mall to take pics of another protest march, this time to the Pentagon.
Without doubt temperatures hovering around freezing reduced considerably the size of the crowds. I would say there were between 10 and 20 thousand antiwar demonstrators ..much less than the 100 thousand or so that turned out en force during the previous protest in January. It was into the 50s and thus perfect marching weather that day.

Also turning out in force were the pro-war/pro-Bush supporters, perhaps two thousand or so black-leather jacketed folks mostly lined behind fencing and waving flags, throwing "one fingered salutes" and shouting a great deal of verbal abuse upon the marchers.
There was definitely a rougher feeling to the protest march than previous anti-war rallys although still nothing like my memories of the late 60s Viet Nam riots here in DC.

According to news reports no violence broke out as police were also out enforce and worked at cooling flared tempers between antagonists.

Here's a short 2 minute video of saturday's march that I did not put much effort into.

A friend of ours, Jim Goodnow is a life-long political activist. He drives a big ole bus with his message plastered all over it. His website is at: Yellow Rose Peace Bus

I didn't make it all the way to the Pentagon. (4 mile round trip) My fingers were freezing off from taking pictures which I can't accomplish while wearing gloves. (ok, so I'm a wussy and a fair weather marcher.)
Below is a 10 photo slideshow of some of the action.

(mouse over image for slideshow control)

Winter is almost over. yeaaah! Thoughts of returning to Iowa are again dancing like sugar plums in my head. (do sugar plums dance?)

in the meantime.. life is good.
Patti and I wish all of you reading this great heaping helpings of goodness as well.
-bill

next chapter in a life

2007-03-02T19:59:00.000-05:00

AHHHHHHHHH
Just wanted to let you know, I just got a phone call... and I GOT ACCEPTED TO COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY GRADUATE SCHOOL!!!!!!!!!!
brie

The Program

Our workshops, master classes, seminars, and lectures are created for writers by writers who discuss student work and examine literature from a practitioner's perspective, not that of a scholar or theorist. We draw fully on the cultural resources of Columbia University--its faculty, libraries, archives, scholarly centers, diverse students, and wealth of facilities. The other Divisions of the School of the Arts--Film, Theatre, and Visual Arts--enrich the Division's programs. The 28 departments of the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences offer courses that provide incomparable opportunities for a developing writer. In addition, the Division offers its students the chance to edit, manage, and publish their own magazine, Columbia: A Journal of Literature and Art.

We also draw fully on the cultural resources of New York City. As the publishing and arts center of the country, New York provides writers with opportunities and experiences not available elsewhere. Editors, publishers, agents, and other literary professionals participate in our classes, panels, and informal discussions. Current students serve as interns at magazines such as the New Yorker and the Paris Review, and at literary organizations such as PEN and the Poetry Society of America, and work as research assistants to writers who also serve as mentors, such as Anna Quindlen, Rick Moody, A. M. Homes, and Phillip Lopate. In addition, the Bank Street/Liberty Partnership enables more than 20 Writing Division students to teach creative writing to New York City high school students.

We were just informed (by that short email above)that daughter Brie got an important telephone call today..
and.. will soon be attending The Columbia University Graduate School. On average 680 people apply and only about 70 get in.
So yeah! serious congratulations to you, daughter.. the next chapter of your life has just opened up to you.

(way ta go!.. from yer very proud poppy)

Be My Valentine

2007-02-14T12:11:00.000-05:00

need we say more?

bill & patti

March on the Capitol

2007-01-29T08:52:00.000-05:00

No one could have ask for a better weather day to launch a major protest rally and march upon the capitol and against the Bush War Machine.

Blues skies, sunshine, mid-fifties temperatures and a singlemindedness to protest the war in Iraq brought out the crowds en force. This was the biggest rally since september of 2005 and possibly eclipsing the 100 to 200,000 protesters who come to say "NO MORE WAR" 16 months ago.

Kicking off the late morning rally were such noteable speakers as the Reverend Jesse Jackson, Susan Sarandon and Jane Fonda who had spoken out against Richard Nixon and the Viet Nam war 34 years ago.
Flash version (19MBs)

Quicktime version 50MBs

By 1:30 the march had begun circling the Capitol building with a wide and very long line of protesters chanting, some singing, some yelling and beating the drums of "peace now!". Along the route a small contingency of vocal anti-protesters were cordoned off in their own protective space. Using signs and bullhorns they let their displeasures be known to the throngs of protesters passing by. A half dozen armed police stood between the 30 or so pro-war, pro-Bush protesters and the multitudes passing by. Words and "one-finger salutes" were exchanged as police tried to keep the calm on both sides.

An interview (not mine) with Susan Sarandon

Men at Sea

2007-01-20T16:12:00.000-05:00

25 x 31 glass, clay, agate, ceramic on board

Broken

2007-01-12T12:58:00.000-05:00

As was mentioned in a previous entry, Patti's 3 year hiatus from doing anything artistic has come to end.
3 years ago she unceremoniously layed to rest her paintbrushes, paints, canvas and her active 22 year love affair in creating masterful oil paintings. Thus commenced a 3-year journey of essentially non-creative activities in dealing with other things in her life, some [unmentionable things] of a not so pleasant nature and other things moreso to our liking (as in us living together, being stupid together and getting righteously hitched in 2005).

But now in a new light of creativity springing from out of the depths of who-knows-where-it-cometh, Patti has roared back into action and has begun to engage her creative talents into an entirely new medium.. that of glass and tile mosiacs.

Broken ~ 32 X 24 glass,clay,ceramic

Little web photos of her work as you see above can do little justice to the real thing. Believe me, in real life these works are impressive to behold. They are heavy, (the "mule" of our family, me, has to carry them). Heavy laden, both physically and with significance.
(I won't presume to try to present any kind meaning of her works to anyone reading this. That's Patti's job should she choose to, or perhaps the job of the spectator.)

As each piece becomes finished, we shall present it here on our webpage for your interest and pleasure.

It's a 007 year..

2007-01-02T12:06:00.000-05:00

So here we go again..
I still don't have anything of interest to write about, but I want to write something.. anything if for no other reason than just to put all the 70 entries of 2006 behind and make some kind of fresh start for the new year.

So on this "fresh start" note, I want to introduce to you a new website that I've created. It will not take the place of this one but will be more oriented toward our on-and-off artistic expressions.

Deliberately so, it's a bit different than the old billandpatti page here that allows you to take occasional "peekaboos" at the goings-on in our lives.
The page is at:Looking Out Looking In
[UPDATE: this thing really didn't get much off the launch pad. I deleted it. ah well ~ bill]
Essentially the site will be a kind of "open canvas" for me to dabble in any direction that I'm moved to dabble in as well as a display of Patti's mosiacs as they are completed. (finally after a 3 year hiatus our Resident Artist is back in action. Go Patti Go!)
There will be no email notices when something new is posted on the new site so I invite you to bookmark the site now if you think you may be interested. Syndication links are at the bottom of the page for those familiar with such things. Entries will not be often I'm sure, but I invite you all to click back from time to time just to see where our minds and spirits have taken us along the lines of artistic expression.
Comments and emails are of course always desired. (they let us know you care..yes they do.)
I've posted a first entry which is not necessarily a forecast of similar things to come through the year. (We don't go to that many performances and besides my "muse" does the all the driving, the writing, the videoing and anything else here, that is when the dipsy, schizy bitch is around.. but I'm sure both video and music will be a part of it.)
ok.. enough for today. may anyone reading this (that means YOU!) have a healthy and most satisfying 2007. blast off!

A thought on our years as we all pass along with them..
"all these moments are lost in time.. like tears in rain"
(just a line from Blade Runner that resonated with me while watching the movie last night)

recent email to billandpatti subscribers

2006-12-15T10:15:00.000-05:00

Happy Year-end Greetings to all!
The old billandpatti website has not seen much real action since we returned from our little adventure last september in the Adirondacks.
That may be because our own lives have not been too adventuresome of late, especially at this time of the year as Patti and I go into a kind of hibernation mode for the winter. Truth is, there isn't really much of interest in our lives that are worthwhile writing about or notifying you all about.

It is also that time of the year that we cut all of you wonderful subscribers loose from our subscriber mailing list.
(I do that every december and then send out another mass email invitation-to-subscribe to our journal in the spring, that is if we even intend on continuing our web journal.)
So.. consider yourselves free as of now, from any future notifications about any kind of update to our webblog.

Our web journal needs to go thru some kind of metamorphosis. It's getting old. For me, it has become stale and uninteresting and in general, just blah.
I'm not certain which direction to go with it, if any. We may just let the whole thing sit here and do nothing.
If it has become boring for me, I can only imagine how boring it has also become for you, the reader.

Well, we have all winter to come up with some kind of renewal before spring rolls around and we make our yearly pilgrimage to farmlife in Iowa. I've got some ideas to possibly start in January but oftimes ideas have a way of evaporating as easily as morning fog.

We shall see, said the blind blogger... we shall see.

connections, caring...

2006-12-11T09:19:00.000-05:00

Word has come our way that a friend and his dog need some help.

Each and every one of us have needed (or certainly will need) a bit of a boost on our journeys through this world.
Now Mark is asking for donations to help him and his friend "Sixto the Wonder Dog" get through a rough place in their own road.

I think I will always feel indebted to Mark.
Mark scored BIG TIME with me a few years back. When my daughter Brie was a young teen she developed a spinal condition called "scoliosis" and needed a major operation. (The surgeons clipped out one of her ribs.. put the rib bone in a blender to use as "cement" to fuse her lower vertebrae together. Then they screwed on a titanium rod along the side of her lower spine with a bunch of screws to hold it all in place... and.. they did all this totally invasive surgery from the front side of her body, collapsing her lungs, pushing organs aside in order to fuse and splint her spine into proper shape.
..to this day it still disturbs me to even think about it.)

Anyway.. daughter's recovery was long and painful and round-the-clock attention was required. During that whole ordeal, Mark was right there to give comfort and aid where ever he could.. Daily, he came to the house to sit with her at bedside.. he played games with her when she was able.. he made her laugh (but not too much because it would hurt to laugh).. Mark did lots for her healing spirit in "kid ways" that a parent could never accomplish. As a young lad just out of high school, Mark "stepped up to the plate" for his young friend and gave her his time and his care. Amazing!

So yeah, in my world and I would imagine in many others as well ('cause that's the kind of guy he is), Mark is a champion care-giver... who now in his own turn needs just a tiny, little boost from others to also "step up" and be counted.

Well, you can get the full story from Mark himself at the Mark & Sixto web page.

Patti and I will chip in to help cover the cost of Sixto's operation. If anyone reading this is feeling somewhat generous this holiday season, even to someone you don't know, kicking in five or ten bucks would certainly give much deserved aid-and-comfort back at him, now in his own temporary need for a little help from his friends..