Happy Halloween!

Halloween is not my favorite holiday.  But this year it seemed a little less intense.  In the past, Selim has started asking about costumes around the time we buy back to school supplies.  This year, he wondered if we should shop a week before.  I had heard that our new neighborhood was a destination trick or treat mecca, so I had bought candy a bag or so at a time starting at the beginning of the month.

Selim arranged to go with his two of his new school friends and a parent.  That left Nedim free to be elsewhere and I stayed home with the candy.  I sat in a chair in the garage and put the pumpkin on a stool in front of the door.  I didn't want kids going around to the side of the house.  We still have on the screen door and that opens out.  I envisioned kids falling off the front steps and tripping over costumes.  So I stayed in the garage and kept the center door open.

Tub of candy, ready to go.

I watched packs of kids race up the street towards the "Canney Farms" development.  It was like do not pass go, do not collect candy.  They didn't stop at the houses leading up to the development -- they streamed passed.  But after a half hour or so, costumed traffic began coming the other direction and I had visitors.  Parents stayed at the top of the driveway and the kids came down.  From the top, I heard helpful coaching, "Say trick or treat!"  "Did you say thank you?" "Be careful!" "Hold out your pumpkin!"

Around the half way point, I had my first kids who didn't want candy.

"Do you have anything to drink?"
"No, I don't."
"No bottled water or anything for us?"
"No, sorry.  Candy is all I've got."
"But we're so thirsty! I'm going to have to walk on, absolutely parched!"

I thought that was odd.  But later on, another group asked for something to drink too.  I'm thinking this is the strangest neighborhood.  At the end, the mystery was solved.  I handed out candy to one of the last groups.

"Thank you.  Where is the hot chocolate?"
"What?"
"You don't have anything hot to drink...or bottled water like last year?"
"No.  We just moved in. Did the lady last year have that?"
"Oh yeah.  She had hot chocolate, water, tons of things to drink. It was great."
"May be next year I'll have something, now that I know this is the beverage house."

Selim came back with a partially filled pillowcase -- plenty of candy, but less than some kids I had seen.  As is the tradition, first thing to do is a quick sort.

And apparently when you are older, you take a selfie on top of your candy.

I had the desire to take pictures of the pumpkin figures set up all around Portsmouth.  They put them up every year, so this isn't new.  Today, Selim and I bundled up for a self-guided walking tour of the pumpkins.  We went into town from not the usual direction and we passed the site of the first African American burial ground.  I hadn't seen the Memorial Park before.  I found it very moving.

After that, we started on the pumpkin hunt.  Some wore grey tops.

We saw one in red.

One slightly disheveled white blouse by the parking garage.

But mostly, they wore black.

Mr. Grumpy pants.

Love the lace and pearls

We took pictures of carved pumpkins.  It wasn't until I was looking at these on my computer, when I realized that one was a PG-13 rated carved pole dancer.  What is that about?  Why?

On the way home, we took a quick detour through Pease so that we could capture the pumpkin figures on base.

We had a great day that we topped off by making cookies with left over candy.  We made chocolate chip batter and added chopped Twix, Kit-Kat, Nestle's Crunch,  Yum!

Boxes of fabric

One thing I realized as I organized our boxes from the move in the garage, was that I have boxes and boxes, and tubs of fabric. Stacked in the corner of the garage, all together, they form a mini mountain.  In Dover, I didn't have a place to put all the fabric I bought, so I tucked some away in a shelf in the linen closet; kept other yardage in bags under my bed; and had some boxed away in the laundry room.  In was a shock to see it all packed up and in one place.

This weekend I took a time out from errands and other shopping and decided to open up a few of the boxes and put the fabric where I can see it.  I had seen several fabric folding tutorials on various quilting blogs that suggested making small bolts of fabric using comic book backing boards.  The minimum yardage to wrap neatly is a 1/2 yard.  I bought 2 sets of 100 boards in two different widths, 6.75" and 7" wide.  Good thing.  I used the entire package of 7" on the first 3 boxes.  Considering some prints I have over the 1/2 yard minimum, I must have folded at least 50 yards yesterday.

On the day bed in the sewing room, I started bags for scraps, under a 1/2 yard cuts, and pieces that no longer speak to me and I can part ways.  I'll have to figure out a way to organize the scraps and small yardage later, but for now, I am so happy with the way the mini bolts look stacked in some shelves.

My plan is to use a regular book case, once the carpet goes down in the den and I can ditch the furniture that is blocking it.  For now, the shelving unit turned sideways and resting on the 1/2 wall in the room works just fine.  Although I don't have any more room left over for the pinks and reds.  And considering the boxes still remaining in the garage, even the regular bookcase that I have set aside for this project may not be big enough.

Today I left my guys at home and I drove up to Rochester to see the Cocheco Quilters annual show.  It was a nice size show held in the Community Center.  The quilts were in the middle of the space and vendors lined the perimeter.

The first quilt that struck my fancy was a map quilt, no surprise there.  It was part of a special exhibit lent by the New England Quilt Museum with a New England theme.  Many of the entries had map pieces, but I think this was the best conceptually.  You can't see the fine detail in this photo, which is too bad.

And this is the other quilt that I liked.  It reminded me of walking in the woods near the Ashram and fining pink lady slippers.  I stood in front of the quilt for a while and smiled at the memories it evoked.

I had the most fun browsing in the booth space of the shop Quiltessentials of Auburn, Maine.  They had beautiful quilts on display and lots of pre-cuts and kits.  As I fingered through a basket of batik pre-cuts, I started hearing a conversation between two patrons and the vendor that went something like this:

     "Can you believe she moved over 100 miles away from a quilt shop?"

     "That's not allowed.  If you quilt, you can't move that far away!"

     "May be in retirement I'll buy a kick-ass RV and fill it with bolts of fabric and drive around and sell fabric to folks that live out in the middle of nowhere."

     "Yeah.  You could send out messages telling folks that you are at a rest-stop on 95 and they should come see you."

     "That is sounding more and more like a really good idea."

I don't know if that is a totally realistic business model...but I've got a lot of fabric that I could hit the road with in about 20 years.  I left the booth after buying the Fall/Winter 2015 magazine that featured their shop on the cover and some hand quilting needles.  I refrained from buying any fabric.

So I didn't get any sewing done this weekend, but I got a start on organized the room and my supplies.  I found my sewing machine, but not the remaining blocks for my birdbaths at sunset quilt that I need to finish.  I think that resuming my quilting creative life will help my disposition.  I packed away all my projects around Memorial weekend and have felt bereft and itchy.

Before going up to Thousand Islands in July, I broke down and bought some fat quarters and began a hand sewing hexagon project.  I'm not sure where I am going with that and while I got satisfaction from seeing my stacks of hexagons grow, it wasn't my birdbath quilt.  So now I have two hand projects that I can work on when the mood strikes -- my landscape piecing that I began after a class in 2013 and the hexagons.

I can gaze at fabric forever.  Before I start my next project, I need to find inspiration from my own stash and "shop" at Bethany's Home Fabric Shoppe.  If I talk about heading out to a real store, tie me down and take away my keys.

Dear Bebek

Hey Bebek,

I've been thinking about you.  My alarm went off at 3:15 this morning because I have to be at work at 4:30 this week.  There was something about the darkness and stillness of the hour this morning that reminded me of those early morning hours when I lost you on the bathroom floor in our Milford apartment, twelve years ago today.  As I showered today, I thought about what I might say to you, in my annual letter that helps me in my journey of healing and find some comfort in the lingering loss.

At first I thought that I would share what is going on in the world.  But so much of the news is sad or makes me so mad, that why bother with that?  I was getting all worked  up thinking about the hypocrisy of society. We care about babies before they are born and insist on their life, but once they are, we are indifferent to their condition, or blame the mother for their existence.  Or we say religion and politics matter more than human suffering.  This world is filled with so much sorrow right now, some days it is hard to see the light.  What would my fate be if I had been born in Syria?

Then I thought I shouldn't be focusing on what makes me so mad.  After all, it was 3:25 in the morning and I didn't need to get so riled up.  So I thought I could tell you about this year.  But the past twelve months have had a lot of rough patches.  I had wanted to apply for a job in VT, but was overruled by my guys.  I didn't, because they were right.  They have sacrificed for my career -- whether it was the years I went to second shift so that I could be a supervisor, or the six weeks I spent in DC in preparation for another 6 weeks away in London.  This year I was gone for 3 weeks for work in February.  So I needed to put them first.  But it was hard to let go of that idea of moving and trying something new.  It took a while, but in the end I was glad that I had listened to my guys.

It turns out that it was good that I didn't apply for the VT job because I got the same position at my home agency.  I was surprised on some level, but not totally.  I knew I had a good chance, however, the reality of actually getting the job was still a shock.  The Adjudication Manager job is the one I wanted since I started working there in 2007.  It had the group of people I most admired and I wanted to be their peer.  It has been an exciting and a difficult transition.  I didn't expect it to be so isolating.  I've gone from a peer group of 60 down to 17.  My old supervisor pals are now careful around me and don't pop into the office to say hi to me anymore.  So that part is hard.  Overall, I'm happy with the new responsibilities -- but there is an adjustment.

As I made our lunches and puttered in the kitchen, I thought I could give you the family updates.  After being on the same coast as my sister for the past three years, she has moved back to the west coast.  We took full advantage of our proximity during these years and she did most of the driving up to see us.  We made it down in April and September, and she came up all the other months. So I don't look back and regret that we didn't take advantage of our proximity; I'm just sad that once again, we are so far away from each other. And then there is Mom and Robert's situation which we are all still weathering.  If I think about it too much, I'll just vomit.

As I drove out over our leaf covered driveway, I debated about talking some sports.  If you had lived, would you have liked sports like I do?  The Cubs have won a playoff series the other night, amazingly enough (yay).  The Patriots won the last Superbowl in the midst of "deflate-gate."   Serena won three of the past four Grand Slam events but lost the US Open (wow!).  The USWNT won the World Cup; so  happy for those women.  And USC just fired their coach.  They play Notre Dame this week.  This will make the fourth coach in the past four years to lead the team in this particular rivalry. I may not be able to watch that game come Saturday evening.

I crossed over the bridge on the Bay, admired the wispy fog tendrils and thought that I would tell you that I still think of you but I am not crushed by your loss.  Your brother turns 11 on Saturday and I am so grateful for the family of three that I do have.  I am so blessed that I was able to have a child, who despite coming 3 months early, has thrived.   This mom gig is the best thing ever.

So, I trust that your soul is with the Light.  I'll check in with you next year.

Love,
Mom

Anniversary #12

We married twelve years ago.  We enjoyed a picture perfect New England fall weekend with family and friends.  It had only been a few months since we had left Turkey where I realized that I could marry Nedim and would be happy to return to his home country for visits, or live part-time in retirement.  We spent beautiful days in Bodrum that I consider to be our honeymoon,  even though that trip preceded our wedding.  Now when I reflect on that place, the image that pops into my mind first is of the father, cradling his dead son in the waves, having fled Syria.  The sadness in this world overwhelms me at times.

I have not found married life to be always easy, but I would not trade the past twelve years for any others in my life.  The vision on our wedding day of the life to come changed drastically two days later.  But those moments in the Satsang Hall, reciting vows that I wrote, we did feel on top of the world.  I felt lovely in the dress I wore.  My Mom and Dad were in the same room and they hugged and that brought me peace.  Life can be complicated and messy, but that day, October 12, 2003 my life was beautiful.

 The past couple of months have been particularly challenging with selling our house in Dover and buying in another school district.  I'm not so sure why this move was so difficult, but it felt like it was the worst. We have moved five times as a couple, and this time, we struggled with our communication and the execution of the move.  We have been in our new place for a month and just now I'm feeling some of the tension ease.  I haven't found my scarves or black skirts and there are boxes in every room -- but we have gotten enough done that our daily routine can go on without too much aggravation.

Today I overruled my boys and coerced them to take a walk on the beach with me.  They were the majority but I said that since I was the oldest in the house, I win.  I knew that once we were at the ocean, we would all win.  I was right.  The guys played soccer for a while.  Then Selim put on his wet suit and braved the cold water.  A walk along the tide line made up our final activity.

We ate a celebratory lunch at our favorite burrito place in Kittery and then came home.  It was a very sweet day.

Transitions

Such big changes for our family in the past few weeks.  First up, Selim finished a successful year in the 4th grade band.  To celebrate the kids' achievement, there was a band concert that involved all three elementary school bands, held at the Middle School.  Selim had wanted to quit in December after the holiday concert, but I made him stick out the year -- finishing what you start life lesson, so to speak.  "Mom, you are forcing me," was a familiar refrain in our household.  Both of us were happy when June 10 rolled around he performed with all the other 4th graders.  It was a hot night in the gym, and the kids performed admirably, sweaty fingers and all.

Next came his 4th grade graduation and Certificate of Achievement.  The ceremony lasted an hour and it was very sweet to see every student shake the Principal's hand and his/her teacher's.  I was a proud mom when Selim walked up, shoulders back, head up, and shook hands.  That's my boy!

He loved his teacher, Mrs. Tucci.  He had a good year with her.

In our desire to give him a better educational experience, we have been looking to move to a different school district.  The middle school in town doesn't have the best reputation.  Although he has a great group of friends around him, and I am sure he would have been fine, we put our house on the market in June.  It was on the market a week when we settled on an offer.

Quickly, we had to find a place to live.  We made an offer on a house that we had seen in the spring that was still available.  On Friday our realtor said that our offer was accepted, but we haven't seen the papers yet.  The house is bigger and has a 2-car garage.  We have some interior painting to do before we move in, but otherwise, there aren't huge repairs waiting for us.

I'm crossing my fingers that the rest of the process goes as smoothly.  We had our home inspection on Friday and that went well.  We expect to conduct both closings on August 15.  That will give us time to get situated before the school year.

Finally, I start a new chapter at work tomorrow.  On April 27, I applied to the Adjudication Manager position open in our building.  On May 20 I had my interview with three Assistant Directors.  On May 29 I found out that I had been selected for the position, but that it was dependent on a successful security clearance re-validation and a suitability review.  On Monday the 22nd I came in to work and saw the email from big HR in DC that I had passed both parts and that I could start on Monday, June 29.  The process was competitive.  I think there were as many as 25 candidates for the job.  I am pleased, humbled, excited, and nervous.  I realize that there are big challenges awaiting me tomorrow.

I don't often comment on politics in this blog.  Most often I'm posting family pictures and that type of stuff.  But it is had to remain silent after Friday's national activity.  I was at work, contemplating going to lunch, listening to the radio when the news of the Supreme Court decision on marriage equality came through.  I didn't expect to feel such joy in my soul and cell tissue.  Finally!  I am so happy on a macro level for our nation that our highest court decided not to take a pass at this question and that it chose not to legislate discrimination.  Our country was founded by people whose forefathers and mothers fled religious tyranny and persecution.  In that spirit, it was so important for our court to stand up and uphold the separation of Church and State.  We have legislated financial and social benefits to married couples and those benefits should apply to all.  On the personal level, I felt relief and elation for all my friends and family members whose lives will feel the direct impact of this ruling.

I listen and read so many arguments to the contrary that marriage has always been about love between one man and one woman.  No it hasn't.  You don't have to go to far back to see how often it was a contract between families to strengthen monetary and political alliances.  Tell the girl who was sold into marriage to an abusive old man how wonderful and loving she should feel about her marriage, that Jesus would want it so.  Or how a woman was traded for a few gold bracelets and a cow to a man she doesn't know -- that her marriage is some sacred match blessed by God, and not the financial arrangement that it really is.  We heard the same arguments against inter-racial marriage.  The sky hasn't fallen.  The world hasn't come to an end.

For those people that assume that all LGBT are now going to "force" them to participate in their wedding... get a grip.  Who wants a hater at their wedding?  I'm sure there are plenty of businesses who will take advantage of the expanded market place.  I think back to my freshman year at Mt. Holyoke when we had some training on sexual orientation.  I can hear Julie telling us that the straight women in the room didn't have to worry about lesbian advances.  "Get over yourselves," she told the room.  "Why would a woman pursue another woman with whom she had no chance?"  So to the baker in a town who doesn't want to participate in a day of dignity and joy -- get over yourself, you probably won't get asked.

To all my friends and family members who are married to a person of the same sex or who want to be -- I am so happy that your marriage will now be recognized as full and as important as mine under the law.  Congratulations on this victory.  May your union be blessed with love and grace.

And speaking of grace, I could listen to the first few bars of the President singing Amazing Grace over and over again.  What an extraordinary eulogy.  For anybody who still thinks that our President is a secret non-Christian -- just listen to him speak.  His cadence, timing, and song show his Church's influence.  But what a moment. What a beautiful, moving, lovely tribute to the Pastor and the other eight victims.  I hope our country can take on the challenge of gun violence at some point soon.  If we don't, we will continue to see the scene from Charleston replay in some other American community.

Perfect picnic

Heather and family came up this weekend to help me with the house.  I lost control of it a while ago.  Thinking that we might put it on the market, I needed help.  My family to the rescue!  Friday night, Heather drove up and then Saturday, Mom and Robert came along.  Saturday we tackled the living room.  While we were throwing away broken toy pieces, Heather suggested that we take a walk on the beach early Sunday morning before resuming house cleaning.  I suggested we bring breakfast.

Sunday morning, we left the house before eight and got to Jenness Beach early enough to nab parking spaces and space on the sand to spread the quilts.

We chowed down on oat ginger and cherry orange scones, strawberry jam, doughnuts, hard boiled eggs, cucumber and tomato salad, Italian bread, apple sauce, and fruit salad. Yummers!

Certain men-folk needed naps afterwards.

Followed by family photo opportunity.

And then we walked.

Robert took the younger set exploring the high tide mark while Mom, Heather, and I stuck to the shallow water to start. We merged into one group on the way back.

And Stan, feeling under the weather, continued to nap.

What a perfect way to spend a few, early morning hours.

You will be missed, Bill McDermod

I've been thinking of Bill in the past tense for the past 36 hours or so.  I'm still having trouble grasping that concept.  Seven weeks ago he was diagnosed with cancer and he left the body on Tuesday.  This final stage of his earthly journey dragged on and flew by at the same time.

I met Bill in 2007 at work.  I was a contractor, and he was a supervisor on the government side in our building.  In passport terms, it was the blitz of 2007 when there was a massive surge of applications and not the staff to process.  Passport services made the nightly news more than once, and not for good reasons.  I had a job in Customer Service and didn't know much.  He was one of the original employees that started the office and knew everything.  But what I remember most from that hectic summer was that he was kind, patient, always provided me with an answer to a question and quickly became one of my favorite folks that I sought out when I needed help.  In October, when I applied to the Career Entry Program, he interviewed me for the government position.

As the years went on, he became my supervisor, a mentor, and then a real colleague.  We never socialized outside of work, but I like to think we were friends.  He was passionate on behalf of the bargaining unit employees.  He advocated for them, even when it was clear the position he took was not what management was looking for.  He cared.  Deeply.  He believed in the mission, the essence of the job that could get lost in discussions on production standards and other metrics.  When I was on his team, he believed in my potential.  He thought I had a bright career at NPC and he championed me to anyone who would listen.  

This morning I printed out my 2010 year end performance appraisal and reread it.  I don't really recognize myself in his narrative, but I am so glad that he saw my potential.  One of my favorite parts was when he talked about my mentoring, "...(she) provided concise direction as a mentor, while consistently delivering outstanding results in all areas of adjudication.  Her approach was clearly stated, and seldom overruled."  He also said that efficiency and accuracy were key components when discussing my adjudicative prowess.  Prowess?  Hah!  This appraisal reads like a novel.  He loved words.  He used many, often with much humor, when a few would have sufficed.  I wish I had kept some of the outlandish paragraphs that he wrote about the most mundane thing.  He was a DJ on the weekend, combining his love of music and the spoken word.  And he liked to talk.  I gladly listened.

When I had my health scare at the end of 2010, I walked into his office, closed the door, squared my shoulders and got personal.  I told him that the doctors had found cells in my uterus that often lead to cancer.  I was going to need to take 6 weeks off from work and I felt that I needed to tell him, in case I seemed distracted.  He listened.  He said the exact right things.  He eased my mind.  I was grateful then for his response and have tried to emulate his professionalism when I have been faced with an employee in distress.

After his diagnosis, he returned to work for a few weeks, in between radiation sessions and before chemo.  I didn't want to be a groupie and just hang out in his office.  So I sent him an email, letting him know that I wanted to help in whatever way I could and that I was rooting for him to beat this.  He sent me back such a sweet reply, "Your understanding goes a long way in helping me realize what a wonderful thing positive human interaction can be.  You have always been able to combine the necessary ingredients of professional behavior and personal interaction in just the right balance...you are a wonderful supervisor and a person I am proud to call a friend and colleague....thank you...Bill McD...."

The day before he had his first chemo treatment, I did go down to his office to let him know that I would be thinking of him.  He was fighting against such steep odds -- for his children, his soul mate, and for anybody else who might find a seed of inspiration in his battle.  He was going into the chemo phase with trepidation...but he wasn't scared.  He was overwhelmed with the outpouring of good wishes.  I chided him on his humility.  Damn straight people cared!  They were expressing their feelings accordingly.  I didn't know that would be our last conversation -- I'm so grateful that I had the opportunity to tell him how much he had meant to me personally. 

He was in the twilight of his career and he was looking forward to retirement, a few more trips to Vegas, and stepping away from the daily drama that envelops our building.  There will be so many things that I will miss over the coming days, weeks, and years.  His passion for the good fight.  His love of Boston sports teams, he had a sports t-shirt for any occasion.  The twinkle in his eye when he told a funny story and the way he could use his voice.  I will miss his voice.  I will miss his support.  His humor and kindness.  His slightly shaggy white hair and twinkly eyes.  His inherent goodness.  And his daily response to the question, "how are you today?"  "I'm living the dream."  He never strayed from that answer.  Always, every day, he was living the dream.

Rest in peace, Mr. Bill McDermod.  In you memory and honor,  I will try to remember to keep living the dream.

Photo from his FB page, caption by Bob O.