Reader, are you there? I haven’t been posting, because I’m so busy clicking and clacking everyone else’s wonderful blogs, and teaching writing, and laying down on the floor in a faint because of the workshop’s wondrous voices, and other stuff too. Did I tell you it’s been hot, ugh, hot? The older you get, the more you feel it.
Generalized statement. Once, when the earth was young, I was born in the Village of West Roxbury, Massachusetts, and I had a twin, normal weight, and we were born in the Boston Lying-In Hospital –part of Peter Bent Brigham (not the ice cream place) or something like that. I was 4 pounds so I stayed, and Liz, my twin, Elizabeth Deegan Bradley, went home at scheduled time. I was a 4 pounder named Esther Graham Bradley. We completed the phrase “4 children within 3 years.” My sister Mary Ellen Bradley (Meb) was above us and John Williams Bradley a little older –they were Irish twins.
Six months in our career beginning in Dirt City we had whooping-cough, so bad, that Children’s Hospital took us for free. My father was an economics major from Harvard, but was out of work. In September, before whooping-cough, the Hurricane of 1938 swash buckled and swash bent houses and boats, and the lights went out in West Roxbury.
Somehow we survived, and we grew up, fraternal twins. Long story short, Liz, (everyone else called her Elizabeth) died at 68, in Idaho, her family near her. I have written about this in my book You Carry the Heavy Stuff (a series of essays, poetry, range of depth, and range of writing voices) (Lulu.Com and Amazon.com and Author’s Garage (smile). Liz was born 12 minutes before me. Today, as I was brushing my teeth, I thought, what if 12 minutes could be viewed as a day a minute.
I decided I have at least 12 years to hustle and get my gritty, well I’ll be a yellow-bellied chuck wagon prose out on the page. I may last longer, but I do have aortic valve replacement, blah, blah, and blah, blah, blah – get the full story when I’m 92.
Friday, I went to Nordstrom’s with a good friend who uses Clarens Products on her skin.
She had 2 free facials, and gifted me with one. It was heavenly, an adventure, and we had lots of catch-up and laughter and old friends’ perceptions to toss at each other over a divine green as green could be, and red as red strawberries could be, and blackberries, and coated sugared pecans, and, and, and we started out as she went for the first facial at 11.30.
Reader, I think I made it home by 6.30 or 7.00 p.m. to my waiting Bill. It was glorious, and the next day my skin, my face, was as soft as a baby’s butt. I have good skin; don’t know why, and Pam, the skin care specialist, asked what kind of self-care I did, and what I used for my face, because it was great. Reader, I said, “I throw on water, rub it with a towel, and hit the road.” It’s worked so far. But September 29, Janet and I are going back to an adventure at Nordstroms – she’s picking me up at 6.3o a.m. at the end of my driveway – I’ll blog about it.
Sunday, my wondrous daughter-in-law Laura wasn’t feeling well, so Nico, Nicholas, Nick, my 6.5 son came up; Janet of the famed skin care story met us at the restaurant, and Bill and I rode with Nick to a Greens Restaurant on Colorado, near Vromans. Excellent and not overly pricey.
Then, the plot thickens, as my waist would in a parallel universe. I have never gone to Fosselman’s Ice Cream, open since 1919, http://www.fosselmans.com/ and I decided to try it. Nick had a map drawn by Laura, and Bill, myself and Nick headed towards Alhambra, via Los Robles, long, some winds, and took a right on Main, got a little lost, took a U-turn, and there is was on the right hand side. I must tell my friend and encourager, our friend and encourager, Steve Pulley, who originally told me about Fosselmans being the best ice cream ever. I grew up going to Bailey’s in Boston, downtown Boston, once a year, and Brighams on the side, and used to be so skinny I could eat all the ice cream sundaes I wanted.
I had 2 scoops of heavenly vanilla ice cream, lots of fudge sauce, delicate, strong, and marshmallow – something I called in my high school years, a “vanilla, fudge, marsh,” and because I had a good lunch, good slices of beef, nor normally eaten, I felt okay.
Today I awakened and cooked stir fry, Tofu and Veggies, as the days of ice cream and splendor are coming to an end. I then took my hefty gift certificate to Vromans in Pasadena, the best independent bookstore around, and bought 2 more writing books, and 3 memoirs I probably won’t see in the library.
Reader, tomorrow I will be 74, and for the most part I thrive. I thrive I think because of my Faith, Mr. Bill my husband, my pal, may laughing buddy and snuggler, my kids, his kids, our grandkids, my Faith Community (Baha’i Faith) and all those incredible people in my workshops and in my expanded blog life. How lucky can an old gal get?
So I just thought I’d share this. I am very happy at the moment, and indeed, grateful for all I have.
Happy Birthday Esther…I wonder what I should get you for your birthday…Hmmmm??? : )
a smile – the gift of a smile
Happy birthday, my dear! You inspire me!
Happy Birthday, Ester. I see you are already celebrating. Good!
Thanks Sabra, nice to connect with you
Happiest of Days! Peace and Blessings is my normal wish, but you have such a bounty of both. I thank you for being a living example of them.
thank you sooo much; it’s been glorious!
I am especially sad that I’m out of Monday’s class on this, the eve of your birthday. I was just wondering a mere hour ago when your birthday is, too. A very happy birthday to you!
Miss you 2 Janine-we’ll have coffee; you have the It’s All In your head book; how was school?
Exhausting! I tried to blog about it but I was so tired, even my writing sounded tired. I started reading It’s All In Your Head between classes.
there you go; it will get better! it’s totally overwhelming at first!
out of class certainly does not mean out of heart; you reside there; hugs
Wonderful day in the life, Esther. I’ll sneak in a happy birthday to you here, but I think I was the one who got the birthday gift by this essay. So pleased that you did a pre-celebration at Fosselman’s. I’m not looking down my nose at their real vanilla, which is always a delight, but I wish you would have tried a scoop of the pistachio nut and another of the butter pecan, or the black walnut, or all three. I’m not afraid to experiment with the other flavors, but I do have my personal weaknesses.
thanks from A Widening Waist
Steve i hate, hate, hate pistachio, and nus and black walnut makes me wince; but i like you a lot; glad you are visiting us; btw – ot what is trackback on this darn here pewter blog page?
Gasp! Well, at least we share vanilla. I haven’t a clue what “trackback URL” even means, much less what it does. I clicked it, and all it seemed to do was take me to the top of your blog page. But maybe you’ll receive some kind of esoteric message as a result. Let me know.
I love vanilla ice cream above all other ice creams! There’s an ice cream parlor in Vancouver with millions, (marginal bit of exaggeration), of ice cream flavours including wasabi and horseradish, but I always get the vanilla. The kind with the little black seeds in it…you know.
Happy, happy birthday and many happy returns Esther! I hope you have a fantastic day full of family and happy moments.
Much love from me to you. 🙂
thanks from a widening waist!
Happy Birthday Esther! You have the voice and mind of a youngster–always fun and bright, encouraging others and sharing love and wit/wisdom. It is a delight to know you–so happy that blogs and the internet were invented. Happy Birthday Hugs!!
Thanks Sara V – i do have that voice; once i thought of myself as a cork bobbing along in the Ocean of Despair, and a friend labeled something I wrote as “buoyant pathos.” but that wellspring is in me, and i an grateful! hugs
Sounds like a good day. But speaking of flavours – blackberries and cream, rum and raisin and a third mystery flavour.
I do exceedingly well with vanilla and chocolate; a medical intuitive told me, “chocolate is your heroin, you go into altered states.” I’m back in reality; chloresterol test came in, alas, alack, playtime over.
oh, belated 74th, Ms. Esther and three hugs from this end. hope Aug 28 was fun… 🙂
btw, i love this – “I decided I have at least 12 years to hustle and get my gritty, well I’ll be a yellow-bellied chuck wagon prose out on the page. I may last longer, but I do have aortic valve replacement, blah, blah, and blah, blah, blah – get the full story when I’m 92.”
wishing life’s treating you kind… cheerio! 😉
thanks dear one
thanki you dear one; hope all is well with you!