It was January 4th and I was staring at a blank Word document that was as white as the snowy mid-Atlantic states getting hit by the nor’easter that day. My hope was to acknowledge the new year and slalom right into a new season of WordPress posts. But I couldn’t find a single word to share.
Was I burned out from the craziness of December? I did have a Covid scare as I developed quite a bad cold midway through the month and ended up testing for the very first time for the virus. It was negative, but my husband caught it and then several positive cases sprouted up around us. We’re not convinced we didn’t have it, I may or may not have tested too late, but we just don’t know. It stuck with me until close to the end of the year.
I am 100% fine now; just a bit delayed in starting a new year of posts. I finally found inspiration in my own words “I couldn’t find a single word to share.” In an unusual move, I decided to look through my phone for photos that might speak for me. Before I welcome 2022, I have a few more memories to share on the brighter side of 2021.
I had my first Covid vaccine shot March 5. My “chemo curl” (a common phenomenon where chemotherapy has damaged the hair roots and causes a persistent curl for 12-24 months post treatment) was growing out of control on “shot” day. About a month later, I finally had my first haircut in 20 months.
This photo was taken at a Lexington, Massachusetts cemetery during a September visit with my son and his wife. We were walking back to the car after a visit to the Battle Road Trail and the shadowy, worn gravestones caught my eye. “There may be some Minute Men resting right here” I thought. It gave me pause to think about our country and its history.
This is a portrait of my mother Ginny as a young girl. It was painted by her mother Natalie; a feminist for her time. When she married my grandfather, she insisted on being a partner in co-creating a summer art colony and co-teaching with him at Cleveland College. This was in the 1930’s and ‘40s. When we packed mom’s belongings in April as she entered memory care, we had the opportunity to move some of my grandparents’ artwork back “home” to Cleveland where they were originally painted. Some will be sold and donated.
In some ways, I should have waited to get my first tattoo until the new year. I associate the tattoo directly with being the “new me” and truly felt empowered by the artwork. This was one story I did share as it was about taking my life back after cancer. I find freedom and artistic expression in the tattoo and it absolutely introduces a new attitude in everything I do – perfect for the new year. The full story is here.
On September 15th, Space-X’s first all-civilian spaceflight launched from Cape Canaveral. The photo is not the rocket heading skyward, but rather, one of the re-usable drone rockets returning towards earth. Though a little hazy, the photo was taken from our house. We are very lucky to capture sights like this.
This is a photo of my Common Nighthawk. I first saw the bird nestled within the mulch of our front garden last May. Her perfect camouflage almost hid her completely. (In the photo, she is facing the camera.) When she didn’t budge for 24 hours, I understood she was protecting eggs. Rain, high winds and the weekly mower did not distract her. I did some research and learned that this bird will build a nest on the ground instead of in a tree. When I saw trimmers advancing to cut our hedges, I quickly laid out upside-down gardening pots around her to alert them. They politely stepped around her. About two weeks later, she had two babies. In the photo, one of the babies appears under her mom on her left side. There is a tiny head and beak visible.
Left: Hibiscus planted in Spring, 2021 Right: The same Hibiscus January 8, 2022. I hope to push myself for this kind of growth in the new year. And on that note, happy 2022.