urban antics

On the day after Christmas we took a walk around Erica's neighborhood in Philly and had to stop as these girls meandered from the bushes in some one's yard and walked in front of us. Proof that chickens can live in the city [sans roosters, that is] and ever since Buddy hung around our apartment building I've been smitten by them. . .more about him here.
Feathered friends links to  Camera Critters.

yellowing paper

RittenhouseTown is the site of

the first paper mill in British
North America, founded in
1690 by William Rittenhouse,
America’s first Mennonite
minister and founder of the
Rittenhouse family. It is also
historically significant as the
birthplace of David Rittenhouse,
an important 18th century
statesman and scientist and the
site of an early American
industrial village.



More from our visit to Erica in Philadelphia. For ABC Wednesday this yellow door fits the criterion for today's letter du jour: Y. It is the entrance the Rittenhouse stone house circa 1787 at the small Rittenhouse Town in Fairmont Park, Germantown.

See more Y's, both old and new,@ Mrs Nesbitt's ABC Wednesday.

cannoli man revisited

On the day after Christmas we wandered the streets of South Philadelphia in the 9th Street Italian market.  Loaded with boxes of cannoli and babas, fresh ravioli and olives--all the things that seem just a bit more authentic to this Italian than the very same things that can be found in the Twin Cities--it is always a magical visit. This district includes a large residential area around and through the market streets--like this store front which reflected the typical Pennsylvania red brick row homes built flush with the sidewalks as well as vintage and antique accordions.

I am grateful for the strong feeling of belonging and history that I feel when I visit this part of town. I'm not really a stranger there. I hear familiar accents in the voices, young and old and can always find warm brown eyes of my paisans. So, today I skip this 'heritage' stone across the river.

Cannoli Man

She took to the road early, turning her face East

Away from the small railroad town where her immigrant grandfather
Sold groceries to cowboys and laborers

But no one recognized her name.
Arriving in her youth, she tentatively placed her feet down as divining rods
On the narrow cobblestones Paul Revere rode.
No one there had shared steerage with her family.

Dinner tables piled high with Sunday's best were long since covered with asphalt
in the city with broad shoulders.
Only drowsy, wine-soaked eyes met hers along the Chesapeake.
Bowing her head, she passed the old flagship church in South Philly.
True north she found his store at the edge of the market,

Falling out from the rest of the buildings like a torn piece of lace.
Shiny cannoli tubes, stock pots, strainers and randomly hung
Yellowing photos of boxers past their prime, Mussolini and the Pope
Her hand closed around his cigar stained, sausage fingers, his sweater's
unraveling cuffs

Comparing origins, he had, in fact, heard her name before.
Turning to her Irish immigrant husband, the shopkeeper asked,
Did you get permission to marry one of our girls?

A familial smile parted her lips as
The small Calabrian dove in her breast
eased it's fluttering--
folded back its wings,
and calmly closed its eyes to rest.

Linking to River of Stones,2012.

'Happiness is an angel with a serious face.'

sculpture, 'Head of a Woman' - 1912 and 'Blue Eyes' [portrait of Madame Jeanne Hébuterne] - 1917

While visiting Erica earlier this year I saw this art at a Marc Chagall exhibit at the Philadelphia Museum of Art which included some work by his contemporaries, in particular Amadeo Modigliani.

'Portrait of a Polish Woman' - 1919

ABC Wednesday's letter du jour is M for Amedeo Modigliani, an Italian painter & sculptor who lived from 1884-1920. He studied in Italy but made his more famous work while in Paris in the Left Bank bohemian Montparnasse with contemporaries like Picasso and Chagall. His work is easily recognizable in the painted figures with elongated bodies and mask-like sculptures. Sadly he died at 36 from drug and alcohol abuse, and finally, tuberculosis.

Visit Mrs Nesbitt's ABC Wednesday for many more uses of the letter 'M'
title quote by Modigliani

Cloudy with a chance of spring

From the fourth floor, this was my view of a rainy, Philadelphia sky last week. There was such a contrast between the pure gray sky, hanging mist on the hills and the abundant signs of spring below me. That's how spring goes.

Every spring is the only spring - a perpetual astonishment. Ellis Peters

See more astonishing skies from just about everywhere @ Skywatch Friday.

My words exactly!

I just came back from a weekend in Philadelphia celebrating Dr. Erica's 30th birthday. Among the festivities was a visit to the Philadelphia Art Museum where I found two totally opposite spots for the color red. Below is a bumper sticker on the back of a Land Cruiser in the parking lot with words I live by daily. We had gone to see the Marc Chagall exhibit called Paris Through The Window: Marc Chagall and His Circle. On the way out, there hung one of Vincent van Gogh's many sunflowers. My heart always skips a beat when I see his brush-stroke signature, also in red. More red @ Ruby Tuesday.

Paintings have a life of their own that derives from the painter's soul.

Vincent van Gogh

'I'd like to see Paris before I die. . .

. . .Philadelphia will do.
Mae West

Just flew in from Philadelphia and boy, are my arms tired! after spending a long Halloween weekend visiting Erica. We spent one day downtown and another out in the gorgeous Pennsylvania countryside at a pumpkin patch/dairy [read: pumpkin ice cream]. On Halloween night we took a trolley ride through old Philly looking for ghosts. The rest of the time was pretty much filled with eating pretzels or cheese steaks and watching scary movies. Below are some city views:

Above is a mural view of the hospital in Center City where she is doing her emergency medicine residency. The ER is around the corner.


More downtown views

Can you tell I had a great time? Its always hard to say goodbye to her. . .

singin' the blues

The sky may be blue but it changes from state to state. I took this photo of the contrail filled sky over where Erica's neighborhood in D.C. as we were leaving for Philadelphia after graduation.
This was the Eastern Pennsylvania sky I saw over the carpeted rolling hills near Wilkes Barre after we left Philadelphia for home.

Back home in the Midwest I took this view of the big sky and flat terrain of Illinois on the way north to Minnesota.

See more panoramic views of the 'big blue' at Skyview Friday.

I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.
Maya Angelou

she's gonna fly now

Under the radar for the past two weeks, we're back from an incredible experience. On May 23rd our youngest daughter, Erica Joy, graduated from Georgetown School of Medicine as a doctor of emergency medicine. Pride, joy, love, excitement, memories. . .these words barely scratch the surface of our emotions as we watched her move across the stage and into her new life after four grueling and incredible years.
The benediction for the commencement included a plea to the Creator on behalf of the 'young warriors' to 'look down and call them to do extraordinary things' using 'their own deep gladness which can meet the desperate needs of the world.' They left DAR Constitution Hall to the theme from Star Wars--fitting battle music!
We helped her move to Philadelphia the next week where she will begin three years of residency at Hahnemann University Hospital. When Erica was little I used to raise her little toddler arms singing the theme from the film Rocky because she was such a tough, energetic and curious creature. Little did I know she'd start her career in the same city years later. Life is sweet that way.