1. My first memory of Carol, possibly a memory acquired after hearing Carol tell the story years later: I marched right up to Carol, stuck out my little hand and said, “Nicole Harkin, nice to meet you.”
2. Carol’s description of me at that time: The oldest 5 year old she had ever met.
3. Actual memories of Carol from my childhood: Carol visiting our house every weekend with her dogs. She visited the lake to help my mom with me and the kids.
4. Number of Children Carol has: four, by acquisition.
5. Best Childhood Memory of Carol: Going with her to work in downtown Atlanta. It was take your daughter to work and she took me. I stayed at her architecturally inspired home, with its modern furniture, overlooking the Chattahoochee River. I think we went to a diner for breakfast, and maybe even had coffee. Oh the joy. I could almost taste how fabulous it would be to be an adult.
6. Hours my Mom and Carol Spoke on the Phone per Week: at least 3, if not more. Therefore, they spoke on the phone at least 150 hours per year, or 6 days. With four children, my mom needed adult contact. Thank you Carol.
7. Concerns my mom had about Carol’s new love, then: that he was going to take our friend and family member for all she was worth.
8. Reality: He loved her. Thank you Don.
9. Years Carol and Don have been married: around 20 I think.
10. My re-entry into Carol’s life: After college I worked for my Senator. Two days before moving to DC, and with no place to live, mom suggested we call Carol. Carol put me up then and many times there after.
11. Biggest lessons learned from Carol: A. Protect the environment. B. Women can do anything men can do. C. True friends are like family. D. Create the life you want to live. E. Retire early.
12. Favorite activities with Carol: A. Shopping and talking. B. Going to see the band, Her, Him and I in Annapolis, MD.
13. Most recent gift from Carol: Photographing my brother Montana’s wedding.
14. Previous gifts from Carol: A. Managing my mail for me while I was out of the country for two years. B. Half of my camera. C. Major car repair bill paid.
15. Proudest moment: When Carol decided to run for public office, and won to the surprise of few who know her well.
9.23.2007
9.15.2007
Video Vituary
Last year, when we went to the DC Short Film Festival, we signed up for the email list. They emailed a few months ago asking if anyone could host some film makers. Brent agreed, so we have Josh Flowers and his girl friend staying with us for the weekend.
One of Josh's videos is like a visual vituary. Check it out by clicking this sentence.
One of Josh's videos is like a visual vituary. Check it out by clicking this sentence.
Bosch Foundation Applications
Wanted to alert everyone that the Bosch Foundation is accepting applications now through October 15. (Click previous sentence for a link to more information.) Basic run down of the program: Spend a year in Germany, first learning German and then working in two different “Stages” or work placements in your field of expertise. You have to be between 24 and 34 years young at the application date and most applicants have a graduate degree, but this is not required. Spouses and children are welcomed. You receive a monthly stipend which should more than cover your expenses and health insurance is paid for by the foundation. During the year the whole Bosch group makes three longer seminar trips around Europe meeting with leaders. I can’t say enough good things about the program. Please let anyone you know who might be interested.
9.11.2007
Directions
My friend Jessica sent me the greatest horoscope...she does this from time to time:
Others are amazed by your innate ability to plan for the future. You have the skill to make your dreams become real while theirs remain too unrealistic to come true. Your greatest strength is how your ambition is fed by your sense of organization and planning.
Today you feel a bit limited in your options. Nevertheless, you can still break through old patterns and set the stage for your future.
September 10, 2007
And one of my favorite authors, Madeleine L'Engle passed away this week. I learned about her from my good friend and pen pal Annie S. back when we had first moved to Montana. This quote at the end of her New York Times obituary really struck a cord with me:
“Why does anybody tell a story?” she once asked, even though she knew the answer.
“It does indeed have something to do with faith,” she said, “faith that the universe has meaning, that our little human lives are not irrelevant, that what we choose or say or do matters, matters cosmically.”
~ Madeleine L’Engle
Others are amazed by your innate ability to plan for the future. You have the skill to make your dreams become real while theirs remain too unrealistic to come true. Your greatest strength is how your ambition is fed by your sense of organization and planning.
Today you feel a bit limited in your options. Nevertheless, you can still break through old patterns and set the stage for your future.
September 10, 2007
And one of my favorite authors, Madeleine L'Engle passed away this week. I learned about her from my good friend and pen pal Annie S. back when we had first moved to Montana. This quote at the end of her New York Times obituary really struck a cord with me:
“Why does anybody tell a story?” she once asked, even though she knew the answer.
“It does indeed have something to do with faith,” she said, “faith that the universe has meaning, that our little human lives are not irrelevant, that what we choose or say or do matters, matters cosmically.”
~ Madeleine L’Engle
8.29.2007
Montana
Yes, I am still updating the blog, but we have been on vacation in Montana and I have been working on a little writing project. :)
Please check out my new Polaroid pictures at my other account (you can just click the sentence to go there.)
More soon...
Please check out my new Polaroid pictures at my other account (you can just click the sentence to go there.)
More soon...
8.02.2007
Dirty Underwear and Parents
The Second to Last Meeting
A high school classroom filled with anxious teenagers and anxious parents listening to a teacher go on and on about a trip to Germany over the upcoming Christmas holiday. It is not the most interesting meeting, but to me it seems important.
Then my Dad gets up and walks out. I thought it strange when he brought the book to the meeting, but then this behavior.
I get up to find him after having waited 5 minutes to make sure he had not just gone to the bathroom. The meetings were mandatory after all.
I find him on the floor leaning against the lockers reading his book.
“Dad, what are you doing?”
“Reading my book. What does it look like I am doing?”
“Why?”
“The meeting was boring.”
He had a point. But the meetings were mandatory and it was mandatory that my Dad behave because the guy I took German for, my high school crush, is in the meeting with his dad.
“Let me know when the meeting is over.”
Thanks Dad. Will do. And no more meetings for you.
The Final Meeting
Thinking that things could not go any worse at this meeting, I am relaxed.
The teacher asks if there are any final travel tips anyone wants to share before the trip. Linda, aka Mom, raises her hand. Yes, this is my chance to redeem myself. My Mom was a flight attendant for 15 years, my Dad is a pilot. We are part of the travel industry. This will be good.
Let me say now, that my Mom would oftentimes tell people that I was adopted.
“Mom, tell them the truth, I am not adopted.”
With a hand in front of her mouth, “She is a little sensitive about it.”
And with her at 5’11” with red nails and platinum blond hair - we did not look alike.
So, Linda raises her hand. I think, “This is good. She will redeem me from the fiasco Dad created.”
“Linda, what is your tip?”
“Well, when our family goes on vacation,”
Let me interrupt her now and also say at this point, that since 3rd grade I packed my own bags.
“Mom, you did not pack my bags the right way.”
“Well then you can pack the bags yourself from now on.”
Now on being the rest of my life. The woman was nothing, if not consequential.
Back to the travel tip:
“we take all of our old, ratty, stained underwear, and wear them one last time. Then we throw them away at the hotel so we have more room to bring back souvenirs.”
Yep, this is what she says to all of my friends and their parents. I try to crawl under my desk and think to myself “maybe I am adopted. How could she do this to me?” Oh, the laughs.
Years later, when I told this story as my most embarrassing story, she felt horrible. She still thought it a good tip. I pointed out that you cannot really save that much room with underwear, our asses were just not that large.
A high school classroom filled with anxious teenagers and anxious parents listening to a teacher go on and on about a trip to Germany over the upcoming Christmas holiday. It is not the most interesting meeting, but to me it seems important.
Then my Dad gets up and walks out. I thought it strange when he brought the book to the meeting, but then this behavior.
I get up to find him after having waited 5 minutes to make sure he had not just gone to the bathroom. The meetings were mandatory after all.
I find him on the floor leaning against the lockers reading his book.
“Dad, what are you doing?”
“Reading my book. What does it look like I am doing?”
“Why?”
“The meeting was boring.”
He had a point. But the meetings were mandatory and it was mandatory that my Dad behave because the guy I took German for, my high school crush, is in the meeting with his dad.
“Let me know when the meeting is over.”
Thanks Dad. Will do. And no more meetings for you.
The Final Meeting
Thinking that things could not go any worse at this meeting, I am relaxed.
The teacher asks if there are any final travel tips anyone wants to share before the trip. Linda, aka Mom, raises her hand. Yes, this is my chance to redeem myself. My Mom was a flight attendant for 15 years, my Dad is a pilot. We are part of the travel industry. This will be good.
Let me say now, that my Mom would oftentimes tell people that I was adopted.
“Mom, tell them the truth, I am not adopted.”
With a hand in front of her mouth, “She is a little sensitive about it.”
And with her at 5’11” with red nails and platinum blond hair - we did not look alike.
So, Linda raises her hand. I think, “This is good. She will redeem me from the fiasco Dad created.”
“Linda, what is your tip?”
“Well, when our family goes on vacation,”
Let me interrupt her now and also say at this point, that since 3rd grade I packed my own bags.
“Mom, you did not pack my bags the right way.”
“Well then you can pack the bags yourself from now on.”
Now on being the rest of my life. The woman was nothing, if not consequential.
Back to the travel tip:
“we take all of our old, ratty, stained underwear, and wear them one last time. Then we throw them away at the hotel so we have more room to bring back souvenirs.”
Yep, this is what she says to all of my friends and their parents. I try to crawl under my desk and think to myself “maybe I am adopted. How could she do this to me?” Oh, the laughs.
Years later, when I told this story as my most embarrassing story, she felt horrible. She still thought it a good tip. I pointed out that you cannot really save that much room with underwear, our asses were just not that large.
7.11.2007
Thoughts
“People pay for what they do, and still more for what they have allowed themselves to become. And they pay for it simply: by the lives they lead.”
I was walking home the other day trying desperately to find this quote. I had read it in “Before We Get Started” by Bret Lott the night before. He did not say it; it is a quote from James Baldwin. But this quote renewed my introspection and review of my current job. To sum things up: Not only do I not believe in the mission, I actually believe that the work we are doing might be harming the mission; I love my co-workers but hate the management; I feel under valued, under utilized, and under paid.
As a sage co-worker pointed out to me however, most people feel under paid and under appreciated their entire career. (Read: get over it.)
But after reading this quote, I realized that my working at my job meant that I was becoming toxic. And I was going to have to pay for this or get out.
As is often the case, just when I was at my wits end, I was offered another position. And while I am not as enamored with my new position as I would like to be, I know that my new job has something to teach me, the people are nice, and after 11 months of work I finally received a compliment on my work. What a little positive reinforcement will do to the ego.
If you are so inclined…please leave me a note about your thoughts on the quote.
I was walking home the other day trying desperately to find this quote. I had read it in “Before We Get Started” by Bret Lott the night before. He did not say it; it is a quote from James Baldwin. But this quote renewed my introspection and review of my current job. To sum things up: Not only do I not believe in the mission, I actually believe that the work we are doing might be harming the mission; I love my co-workers but hate the management; I feel under valued, under utilized, and under paid.
As a sage co-worker pointed out to me however, most people feel under paid and under appreciated their entire career. (Read: get over it.)
But after reading this quote, I realized that my working at my job meant that I was becoming toxic. And I was going to have to pay for this or get out.
As is often the case, just when I was at my wits end, I was offered another position. And while I am not as enamored with my new position as I would like to be, I know that my new job has something to teach me, the people are nice, and after 11 months of work I finally received a compliment on my work. What a little positive reinforcement will do to the ego.
If you are so inclined…please leave me a note about your thoughts on the quote.
7.03.2007
Book Review: The Omnivore's Dilemma
Wow, what an interesting, scary, and fact filled book. Only three hours into the 12 hours long audio book, I feel like I need to reorder my eating habits.
Having lived in Germany for two years, I recognized that the act of living in Germany led me to lose weight. But now I think I understand why: corn, or the lack there of.
45,000 products in the American supermarket are made out of corn. So whether corn is good for humans or not, I think we are eating too much of it, especially the form that we use to sweeten everything. A summary of the book's thesis (I think) can be found in the article he wrote about it in the New York Times a few months ago (click here to link to the article).
Pollan also explains in a succinct manner why making ethanol from corn to fuel our cars does not make sense: it is the fertilizer. To make the fertilizer, you need natural gas, and more natural gas than you end up producing thorough from the ethanol.
More on this as I listen...
Having lived in Germany for two years, I recognized that the act of living in Germany led me to lose weight. But now I think I understand why: corn, or the lack there of.
45,000 products in the American supermarket are made out of corn. So whether corn is good for humans or not, I think we are eating too much of it, especially the form that we use to sweeten everything. A summary of the book's thesis (I think) can be found in the article he wrote about it in the New York Times a few months ago (click here to link to the article).
Pollan also explains in a succinct manner why making ethanol from corn to fuel our cars does not make sense: it is the fertilizer. To make the fertilizer, you need natural gas, and more natural gas than you end up producing thorough from the ethanol.
More on this as I listen...
6.28.2007
Vituary: Walt
Sometimes you don’t appreciate someone until
you mature.
Walter has been a part of my whole life, regardless of whether I wanted him in it. I can remember telling him that he was not my dad from a very young age.
What a telling thing to yell at an adult. Just the act of thinking it and verbalizing it means that that person plays some approximate role similar to your father.
Uncle Walter, as we called him before he became Papa, loves to tell the stories of me walking around as a little girl with grapefruits in my blouse saying that I was going to look like Dolly Parton one day. He still threatens me with twins…or I should say curses me with twins.
But Walt is a loyal, trusted, and much loved part of our family and has been for years.
It all began with a glider port he and my father owned. He and my mom became fast best friends soon after meeting. He was there for everything from then on. He came up to the lake on weekends to help my over wrought mother with her four children. He attended all family events. He even became a Girl Scout.
Originally from Kentucky, he went to military school, served in Vietnam, and then worked as a machinist for Delta until he retired. He read the whole Wall Street Journal every day he worked there before work.
When we moved to Portland, he visited on all holidays. And when my parents finally divorced he helped support my mom and my siblings during the divorce going back to work after having retired to help his family.
Eventually moving to Montana to be with his family, he and I shared shifts taking care of my mom as she battled cancer. He had nights, I had days.
After my sister had Tanner and my mom died, Walt became Papa to Tanner. Tanner is the only kid from Montana who sounds like he is a Confederate. Walt continued to support Erica, helping her raise Tanner, effectively the fifth child’s diapers he has changed.
Once in college, I had gotten in over my head in credit card debts. My mom was broke, so I was forced to call this person who was not my father, with whom I often fought with, to ask for a loan. He did it without hesitation. He saved my ass.
John went to flight school in Oklahoma. He arrived broke to start school, but Walt was not far behind, making sure that John had food and money to focus on school.
To this day, whenever anyone of us has needed him, he has been there for us. I hope he knows that I am there for him too.
6.24.2007
Book Review: Eat, Pray, Love
Eat, Pray, Love
By Elizabeth Gilbert
I read a blurb about this book in the Economist a few months ago and saved it. The book, read by the author in the audio version, tells of a year spent abroad by the author. She fills in the back story about why she spent the year abroad, telling us about her road to a more spiritual being and about her horrible divorce. (He wanted kids and a suburban life, she didn’t, things get messy.)
What I find interesting about the book revolves around her found spirituality. While I too feel as though we were created and are not a product of evolution entirely, I feel even more strongly, that if there is a God, she/he/it has much more important stuff to do than worry about what we are eating and which curse words we have used.
Given this point of view for reading the book, I went along on her journey to Italy (where she ate), India (where she prayed in an Ashram), and Indonesia (where she went because an ancient medicine man told her she would go, oh and there she loved.)
The structure of the book gave you a definite sense of forward motion and of impending conclusion. She met vivid characters, my favorite being her friend from Texas who called her Groceries, because she was carrying so much shit around.
The book also lets you watch as she transforms herself from a depressed, harried, and skinny divorcee to a contented, beautiful, and well fed whole woman. At the end she knows who she is and she knows why she is here. And how often do you get to see such a journey without being a parent?
After ending the book, I wanted to know more. After a bit of internet research, I found out that the author is not only happy today, but she is also the author of Coyote Ugly.
Highly recommended
By Elizabeth Gilbert
I read a blurb about this book in the Economist a few months ago and saved it. The book, read by the author in the audio version, tells of a year spent abroad by the author. She fills in the back story about why she spent the year abroad, telling us about her road to a more spiritual being and about her horrible divorce. (He wanted kids and a suburban life, she didn’t, things get messy.)
What I find interesting about the book revolves around her found spirituality. While I too feel as though we were created and are not a product of evolution entirely, I feel even more strongly, that if there is a God, she/he/it has much more important stuff to do than worry about what we are eating and which curse words we have used.
Given this point of view for reading the book, I went along on her journey to Italy (where she ate), India (where she prayed in an Ashram), and Indonesia (where she went because an ancient medicine man told her she would go, oh and there she loved.)
The structure of the book gave you a definite sense of forward motion and of impending conclusion. She met vivid characters, my favorite being her friend from Texas who called her Groceries, because she was carrying so much shit around.
The book also lets you watch as she transforms herself from a depressed, harried, and skinny divorcee to a contented, beautiful, and well fed whole woman. At the end she knows who she is and she knows why she is here. And how often do you get to see such a journey without being a parent?
After ending the book, I wanted to know more. After a bit of internet research, I found out that the author is not only happy today, but she is also the author of Coyote Ugly.
Highly recommended
6.22.2007
Movie Notes
We just returned from seeing Oceans 13. What a hoot. Lots of fun, nothing but fun for a Friday in the summer. The cute boys are nice to look at as well!
6.16.2007
Grammy's Vitauary
In the last week two people near me have lost two people near them, completely unexpectedly. Adding to this loss, are two friends who have relatives who have advanced stages of cancer and one once again realizes the shortness and precarious state of Life.
So I am embarking on the anti-obituary. It struck me at some point in the last year that waiting until a person is dead to tell the world how great they were is absurd. I will begin with my oldest friends, in chronological order and work my way to the youngest.
This means I begin with Eve M. and end with Erin R., with the many people I know along the way.
Eve M. is my grandmother. She has many names: Kay, Eva, Molesworth, E., just to name a few. Her names seem to have marked the stages of her life as well as her address have. Married twice, once to a soldier who died in World War II and to mister miserable, she bore three children. Her daughter, Linda, my mom, died almost seven years ago. Her next child, Ed E. is a professor and was so big when he was born that Gram had to sit sideways for months. And her youngest daughter, Kate H., is an actress in Chicago.
I can’t imagine having been married at 19 and widowed at 21 with a baby. She delivered my mom just before my grandfather shipped out, being one of the first induced labors ever.
She grew up in the depression, spending time in a children’s home. On Fridays, if their home economics room was cleaned up quickly and they ran to catch the trolley in St. Louis, one driver would give her and her friends a free ride downtown. Then they would have one ride left on their ticket for the return trip. I love the vision of Kay running in her last pair of “real” stockings to catch the street car.
After the war she worked in people’s homes and then meet Ed E. senior. They married and had a pleasant life in O’fallon, IL. They were happy. Ed was an accountant and they had a few stores. As Gram says, she worked in retail for many years. She owned a children’s store. And then Mr. Miserable was sent to the slammer.
After a few years and some time spent in California and a divorce, she changed her name to Eve M. and moved to Georgia. Her daughter Linda was pregnant with me. She then became my nanny while my mom continued to work. We spent five years together. I remember watching Phil Donahue and the Price is Right every morning while she had toast and coffee in bed. We did everything together.I also remember spending hours waiting for her to get ready…she was fixing her hair piece I later learned.
We went to Disney World and Disney Land together. I loved being with Gram. When my brother John was born, she moved to Houston, TX with Cliff, an architect.
I visited her one summer for a month when I was six. That was my first flight alone. We played and had so much fun. I cried the whole way home. I was so sad to leave Gram.
In high school, after we had moved to Montana, I used to drive by her apartment to check on her. One time, her car was there but I could not seem to get her on the phone. I wigged out. I ran up to her apartment and knocked on the door. No answer. Then I went to the neighbor’s door. When I got to the third door, I was a crying mess. “Hi, my name is Nicole. I am Eve’s granddaughter. Have you seen her? I can’t get into her place.”
I still worry about her though. A few years ago I called the police because I would not reach her. She lives in St. Louis again now. She had gone fishing and not told me…what a spitfire.
6.14.2007
practice
Turns out, that I would really like to be a writer and a photographer. So this is a space for me to practice in.
One recurring "columns" will be an animauary or vitauary. This is the opposite of an obituary. So it is a notice celebrating a life while the person is living rather than celebrating a life after the death of the person.
I will also post comments about books, exhibits, what have you when the feeling strikes me.
Enjoy.
One recurring "columns" will be an animauary or vitauary. This is the opposite of an obituary. So it is a notice celebrating a life while the person is living rather than celebrating a life after the death of the person.
I will also post comments about books, exhibits, what have you when the feeling strikes me.
Enjoy.
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