May 6 2012
Shake it Nancy Alberg McGuire!
Gotta deliver the message with the moves he gives us.
Have a happy joyous and free Sunday.
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=57MoFGTJadI[/youtube]
Directed
to Go Ahead and Do it Even though I’m Down in Front
by Kite Singleton
Apr 19 2012
I have been meaning to start this category for quite a while, and today is the day!
There is so much to say, but I’m trying to learn “edit” to essence. Baby steps.
So I’ll start.
Dedication Page
This was inspired by the sisterhood of:
Gina Graves Lloyd
Lisa Revare Hickok
Lenise Rudnick Ward
Lacy Amelia Adams
Janet Rosel Willimon
The Bijin Curly Haired Girl Consultant
and all of the other curly-haired women
in life with whom I’ve discussed hair.
So, this is the reason why today was the day.
I have tried to capture my head in this picture to illustrate my morning.
Attempting front and back view of hair breaking into freedom.
[This picture was trying to give you both a front view with the cowlicks at the side, and the back with the super tight curl at nape but frizzy fluff on top. My genre of au natural(ly) curly hair takes a bit of work & product to look good. I have done nothing + wind. ]
I woke up early, so started the day at 6:30 yoga fix, armed with every possible makeup and toiletry item to hit the ground running in this part of town after my bakery pickup. But of course, there is always the one forgotten item. In this case, two.
Now I can handle the day perfectly fine without one or the other (and we all can admit to goin’ cowboy a time or two by necessity, can’t we?). But both the up under and the down under is just a bit too risqué. My dress was floaty, there was a slight wind, and I get my pain au chocolat at Hi Hat* right by yoga.
[*Which, by the way, in the summer is so intimidating on the front brickyard that I now wait inside and chat with Jamie].
Main idea here: at 52, no one wants to witness a dress that (as Shirley MacLaine said to her daughter Meryl Streep) “just twirled up!” or a Courtney Love stray mamelon, even through fabric.
So, I was left without the blow-dry to pick up my baked goods, clutching my jean jacket at the waist and anchoring my chiffonade-ish fabric.
But I was thinking as I was driving back to The Illinois where I live in Hyde Park….
what if, just today,
I first put as much energy,
at the beginning of the day,
on a conscious focus
of controlling self: thoughts, words, actions, deeds
instead of
controlling the true integrity of my hair?
[and actually, I have to confess that upon downloading the picture, I noticed my Grandmother’s Zorach Madonna and Child that are on the demi-lune under the mirror. So of course, I had to look up some pictures in Gardner’s Art Through the Ages to see pictures of both the Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalen to see if they had curly hair. This is not to compare myself with their thoughts, words, actions and deeds, though I wonder if subconciously I may have been doing so (so, ego check, though it is always good to aspire to great women).
Mainly, I just wanted to check out their hair. For the record, Mary Magdalen usually has just a bit of a wave which is pretty low maintenance. She is most often portrayed as a bit weary which is of course her sorrow at finding Jesus’ body removed, but also understandable given her early life. The Virgin Mary always has that veil over her head. I bet she realized early on that the Son of God was going to be a bit of an unruly-handful-of-a-boy to the point of going missing that day he ran off to his Father’s house, which scares any parent silly. By the way, the storyteller Reverend Paul Rock at Second Pres gives me all this great material. Check him out.]
So here in my confession of the meaning
of that tangent, or lack? of focus…
I am not sure sometimes
when I do try to control what I can,
my thoughts, words, actions, deeds
if I am doing so,
or if I am going on some other path?
And so this reminder again.
When I direct my gaze,
I should pause so often
to recognize
that I am only
a soldier.
Feb 14 2012
Valentine’s Day, Feb. 14, 2012. Kansas City.
one perfect Valentine's Day: Rosie black pug, sunflowers & greenflowers, Zum Grapefruit oil, man's soap, Andre's, Juicy Baby Doll set, a found bra strap, and a taupe lace half cami.
I moved recently to Kansas City and I feel as if I am living in Central Park East, upper 70s (?). Haven’t really a clue where as I don’t know NYC that well, but thinking since the Nelson is south and a little west and aligning this with the Met, I would say this is approximately my neighborhood. No point, but ADD has taken full hold working on financial, legal, unpacking, car title, health insurance, and numerous other things which I classify as WORK.
So, I had to take a break to do some of my other work today as it is Valentine’s Day and we all need to treat ourselves.
First, a preface.
My daughter texted last night:
“Well XXX and I prob don’t go much. (???, new i-phone). I kind of want to dress up though and we’ll just go to din andhe’ll stay with me in KC.”
[XXX is name not disclosed to protect his privacy as a very smart first year full-ride KU law student by way of his former position as Assistant Pro at the Phoenix Country Club].Then this:
“Jay thinks vday is so stupid.”
Now, as a smart mother, I agreed and sent a long negative viral text rant about social pressures, consumption, media driven economy, men having pressure to show their roll with gift, women having pressure to tell their friends what their “man” got them since the girl with the best (translation to many is $$, don’t agree) gifts supposedly has “won” which takes all women back into the dark ages in so many ways I won’t go into it relative to women taking control over their lives. Here are a few of the excerpts:
“…i hate those stupid special menus where they jack up prices and serve stupid bad valentiny food. Go to a gay bar or google knuckleheads. I may have to do this, greAt idea paula [someone else introduced me so I can’t take credit for finding this.]”
“you have to rebel itherwise (i-phone again) ots a lose lose for all. I did always like Dad’s dove bites never turn down a choc or flower but sometimes this happens for no holiday whatsover.”
“Plus men who buy into it will really hate it if they were socially forced into it for 30 years.”
“That being said, if i ever get surprised with a car or a big diamond i wont throw it back in anyone’s face.”
“I’m probably just jealous.”
Can you imagine having a mother like this from he!! who shares what reality of life might be like with this kind of cynical bad attitude 30 years from now? One good thing about mothers is that they can be a good role model or a frightening example, both work equally well.
Just ignore me, my first reaction is always negative, it’s kind of a boundary off-putting thing after which point I am totally open to whatever was said or suggested. I then have gotten this off my chest, have to make amends, and proceed to the PollyAnna Stuff. Any design perfectionistic people understand the critical nature. That’s what keeps buildings from falling down and artistic people working for nothing but their unrealistic desire to make others happy just like comedians want to make us laugh and musicians want to make us feel. We all have needs to be met.
Valentine’s Day. There was only one thing on the agenda.
Zum Store to have a tour with old family-personal-h.s.-KU friend Linda.
Tour was incredible. Soap room, other products room, met all the pups and peeps, beautiful creative design at every turn with ornate mirrors, corner booths with custom ottomans, an accounts receivable in metal orange casework to die for.
After: purchases for Lace and her BF.
Grapefruit Body Oil. Purchased this for myself the other day. Lace grew up on pink grapefruit juice, so once again chose as preferable to the featured love oil scent for both genders and for positive memory association. We also had sectioned broiled pink grapefruit Christmas morning with powdered sugar. Very very nice.
On recommendation from a handsome man in the front office, I chose for XXX the shaving soap, a very mild clean masculine appropriate almost non-scent.
The fine young man at Starbuck’s on Main who gave me directions recommended the cedar. I asked if he also wore plaid shirts as he had fine beard. “Yes,” he replied. “And do you do log rolling?” “Yes,” he replied. “And you are working the lumberjack gig tonight?”, I said. “Of course.” Thumbs up!
But this just didn’t seem fitting for a man who wears beautiful golf shirts of the Scottsdale genre.
a note: Daisy the pug at Zum was wary of me and I was told she is normally so friendly. I was a little taken aback, maybe she smelled Rosie who does tend to be a bit aggressive at first and left some scent on me. I really was kind of hurt, dogs usually love me. I have pug paintings all over my website, have had 5 pugs in my life, wrote a little Prairie Pug Book. I will have to work on this, maybe I came off too strong. She may have also heard that I often photograph pugs, probably sensing that I might sneak a pic and use her to blatantly market the nothing I have to sell. Smart puggie, just like those (I still call them) Indians at the Taos Pueblo remind me,”It’s going to cost you.” I don’t think Daisy will want a gift certificate at the liquor store, though. I’ll have to think on this.
I wanted to take a picture of all the pretty displays and colors in front retail but it didn’t seem appropriate to ask after all of their kindness and time today.
The dark and handsome man and exquisite tailor at Rydell in his black form-fitting pants we cannot see.
Heart Torte's in the case. I had no reason to buy one for tonight. But, really cannot resist, so I may have to return tomorrow as they will be marked down a bit and will keep (except the raspberries) until Sat. Hmmm....who can come for dinner?
These are the feuillete puff pastry palmier whatever you call them raspberry things.
Awaken (and Re-Awaken, yes, yes, yes!) your wild Joy.
OK, it’s 6:30, and I have to get on to my Valentine’s Celebration with a drink at Nara with Lace and BF before their dinner at Drunken Fish. Her gift also includes a Juicy Couture cute little baby doll nightset but don’t tell her.
After that, I have no plan, but certainly will celebrate love in the air. I am my special someone these days and want to bathe in everyone elses’s happy feelings, so I will go out SOMEWHERE, regardless.
(translation, may go see Freud-Jung movie for the third time, except I missed the 7:30, so home to try to figure out this pesky cable thing and remote. Urban living is so difficult).
It was a Perfect Valentine’s Day.
Jan 22 2012
I was driving along Central after dropping off a little manila slip, first payment of $200, and a copy of my insurance card due to a little problem with my right foot engaging with a pedal. I think this time I am going to blame it on the fact that I’m confident my right leg is a tiny bit shorter than the left. So it’s always reaching out there, harder and stronger striving to match up.
I took a few photos of familiar sites and went to the Nifty Nut House for a few things.I feel, the Nifty Nut House is the nut roasterie par excellence of this region, if not our nation and the world. And they have chocolate, too.
I feel so at home at the Nut House.
So Paula going to the NUT HOUSE to buy dark chocolate dove bites has already made the usual euphoria totally out-of-hand. But that’s another post.
Okay, here’s the story…
My daughter Lacy had great big beautiful white teeth. And, as one will know that is reaching waning years, they can never be too big. Even Lacy as commented on the fact that her front teeth look a little shorter in her adult life.
Lacy went to high school at Wichita Collegiate. I think Wichita Collegiate was built sometime in the early 60s. Charles Koch and many other benefactors made the school possible. It is a good prep school education in a smaller setting than the Wichita Public High Schools. We chose in part due to the quality education, but mostly because Jack and Lacy had to commute 60 miles to school and our family commuted hundreds of miles to ball games as towns are few and far between in southwest Kansas. We never saw each other. It was their time to focus on school. But back to Wichita Collegiate, it draws great students from many parts of the City.
Jan Davis, Principal.
At the time Jan Davis came out of retirement from serving most of her lifetime in the Wichita Public School system (superintendent?) to be the headmaster. And we’re not talking Shawnee Mission, not that there aren’t similar issues. Actually, since Collegiate was never a boarding school, Jan was called the Principal. Later Jan retired again, but was pulled back out to serve at the Fundamental Learning Center for which my cousin Gretchen Lee (my Grandmother’s maiden name was Lee) Andeel was one of the Founders and is a grassroots constant worker. I think she has since retired. And then, Gretchen said, has been pulled back out again to serve.
I’m really going off on tangents here, but since I’m moving away from Wichita to another hub, I wanted to mention just a few of these things. I will never “leave” Wichita anymore than I will ever “leave” southwest Kansas or Kansas City. One never leaves a sense of place.
Jan was so special to our family. But mostly, she was a fast friend to Lacy, taking the incoming sophomore Country Cowgirl under her wing. And this is the funniest thing I will always remember about Jan.
In 2003, grinding had just entered the scene. Now, I remember pitch black 8th grade dances at Indian Hills Junior High where the teachers (never enough) would circulate a bit during the slow dances. And, I distinctly remember realizing from a personal experience that boys (I had no brothers, just Gina and me) had a sensor on some of them that indicated whether or not they were enjoying the dance. It is not my place to comment on any particular people. Or whether or not this is an appropriate reaction to something as innocent as a little slow dance in a public place on a dance floor. I am not a man and plus, I do not think they are all the same. Well, maybe…
Anyway, as mentioned Wichita Collegiate was diverse and there were some very good grinders on the dance floor in the cafeteria. Lacy said that Jan had taken it upon herself to go out on the dance floor to “break everyone’s hips apart” and make sure everyone kept their hands to themselves, somewhat. I mean, this was a private school!
Later in the year, I asked about how that was going. Lace told me that Jan had “given up,” which is out-of-character for this woman. Upon inquiry, she had just formed a different opinion. Jan said it had caused her too much angst at the dances and that she just resigned herself to seeing it as “safe sex.”
THE RETAINERS, role of money from 2003 to present.
We were definitely pinching pennies (and who isn’t always?) when Lace was at Collegiate. I worked at Schaefer Johnson Cox Frey Architecture downtown. So that pretty much tells the story on my wages. That is, I was heavily subsidized by John Adams and the Adams Cattle Co.It took the entire household budget previously entrusted to me 200 miles east. Actually, I do think I sent home a check for $500.00 so John could buy himself some groceries.
A Word About Meals. This is both to
a) defend myself as I was not at home and hearth making good food for the male Adams, John and Jack
b) to share some Adams food traditions.
And just for the record about my job…
The Wichita stint was not for the purpose of me working for a architectural firm. Don’t tell them, but this was not my forté. They seemed reasonably happy, I guess, as I received raises, they put me in an ad on tv for Exploration Place with Sam Frey, and I attended all the interesting speakers and charity events for the office to which no one else wanted to or could go due to young children, loving every minute. But, reality was I about died in front of that computer. The bulk of my day consisted of doing construction documents and trying to understand mechanical systems & codes for all the Wichita Public School work we were doing at that time. WE WERE THERE FOR LACE’S EDUCATION.
The quote that best sums up my career was from Wade Walker (Gastinger Walker Harden Architects KC and friend and running partner of my father’s). In asking me how work was going, he said “Are you still down there pretending to be an architect?”
I actually didn’t take it personally, as I’m sure all principals in successful firms feel this way when confronted with tedious architectural conundrums which caught them off-guard in some social setting. Business and marketing or schematics and organization of labor skills should supersede them doing CAD drafting 24-7.
In general, architects are generalists though dealing with details. The difference is that in general, they have paid lots of dues that I have not. Kirk and Wade also remind me
a) not to undercharge (hurts them) even though I still have not worked enough time for a licensed architect to have mine. I worked for David Thompson one year and then the economy tanked, office of 10 down to sole proprietor.
b) they also said (which made me feel good) that for the service I am performing, I have had a valuable background in experiences, education (“over-education”), and most importantly incredible client projects, though few.
I feel kind of guilty about this and that I maybe lept over hurdles, but I do need to cut myself a little slack on the ease of marketing myself because where I was living. It was actually amazing I had any work. Of course, I have had zero income in 2011, so what’s my excuse now? Hmmm….other priorities.
So what about your husband and son? Don’t you feel bad? (yes, I heard this on one occasion at a Kansas City Christmas Party and it stabbed my heart as it was holiday season and I would only be home for a day or two). In reflection, I realized the woman was extremely successful in KC real estate, so I realize now that she was probably just wanting to connect. I think it was the second question to which I took offense, “so do you and your husband “swing?”) Once again, I guess there’s a part of KC that has a whole different undercurrent that I have known nothing about.
So, a little bit about feeding ourselves with actual food, now that income has been addressed…
every quarter I would make approximately 50 homemade meals, in foil containers, so that John and Jack could have our family homemade meals 3+ times a week even though Lace and I were away. I won’t get into mine here, but they are Millie Ward’s, Ginny Graves’, gina Lloyd’s and Diane Simpson’s recipes.
THE BASICS: The other nights when not eating my frozen dinners they had John’s specialties.
steak and beans
hamburgers (or cheese) with fried onions. (I do mushrooms, swiss if I have it).
green bean casserole (John adds in some sauteed onions which make it. When he doesn’t have mushroom soup, he invented adding heavy cream as we don’t always have milk but we do have heavy cream. I really like this better as I don’t like soup taste).
fried pork chops with delicious instant mashed potatoes (I also am proud to say that I served these. I like potato buds though John prefers Hungry Jack. I grew up on them and much prefer these artificial ones, they are much creamier. I do little cream cheese which my mother invented. I actually tried to duplicate the smoothness of these one Thanksgiving with my new Kitchen Aid and it was a disaster. They turned to gluten which is what happens with laziness like a mixer you don’t have to hold in your hand and babysit. I’m serious, when I poured them out of the bowl I practically had to take scissors to cut it apart it was like that movie The Blob.
On weekends, Dad’s bacon and egg and fried potato blowout after feeding cattle. John’s trick is putting a heaping tablespoonful of fried bacon grease that I keep in a jar in the frig in with the potatoes.
It is my feeling that one’s father (and then husband) must always make the meanest fried eggs and bacon. And that one’s mother (and then wife) must always make the best fried chicken. The genders can flip, Adams aren’t rigid with that. Jack has learned all the nuances of crisping up the chicken. Lacy, well….I’ll let her tell you the stories but I heard she made a great taco salad for her boyfriend this month and she mentioned something about New Year’s resolutions.
Goodness! I have taken up my time when I should be packing boxes, have not put in a visual, and haven’t made it to the Mexican Fiesta Fiasco. So, this will have to wait a day or two so stay tuned in.
Lace, does this look familiar? I think it was on a Saturday splurging by going out for lunch. I'll tell what I remember but when I do the post this week, you'll have to add the real story.
If you have made it through this (and who cares about all this??), I promise this next one will be funny, short, and with a video on-location. I guess that’s how I got here, I had been to the Nut House and ate all that Chocolate while I was driving down Central taking pictures.
So if you only look at the pictures, here are few from my drive.
It’s never the end.
Jan 8 2012
My mother Ginny Graves found these and called them our “Monet Water Lily Dresses.”
Above: My sister Gina, my cousin Laura Ward McCrary, and I are pictured above, dressed for the wedding of my mother’s cousin, Christie Lee Triplett, in St. Louis. Christie Lee was my Grandmother Millie Ward’s niece as Christie’s father, Floyd Lee is the brother of my grandmother, Mildred Lee Ward.
When Claude and I met.
I knew Claude when I was in pre-school. That is because my mother taught art lessons at the Nelson Art Gallery, so this was my pre-school. But that’s another post.
Anyway, if you have been to the Nelson-Atkins Museum, as it is now called, you have seen the triptych of Monet’s Water Lilies. It used to be in the large room just to the left of the Nelson Bookstore and Giftshop which are to the left as you enter the gallery turnstiles. Or do they still have the turnstiles? Anyway, they were and still are mesmerizing to me.
So to visit this real place and the ponds and gardens where Monet painted 16 years after this picture was taken was like being in a dream. The paintings are actually more real than the place, but they are equally beautiful.
Monet Triptych at the Nelson.
Claude in his Gardens.
Saturday July 12, 1980. (from my journal and sketchbook)
Woke. Ran 3. Went to Breakfast.
Met Granda & we took Métro to Gare St. Lazare. From there we took a train to Vernon and from Vernon a taxi to Giverny, the Gardens where Monet painted. They just re-opened this spring and everything is beautiful.
See the bachelor buttons...
The house is pink stucco with green trim and the gardens were full of bachelor buttons, thistles, and all sorts of little yellow, red, pink & orange blossoms.
Monet's House with Tile workshop at left. Arbors are along pathways throughout the Gardens. colored marker sketch by Paula, summer 1980.
We saw the curved bridges and lily ponds and willows that are in all the paintings.
There was a room of paintings in his house. Off the entrance were some of his later works which are really dark, but interesting and beautiful but in a different way.
We stayed until 3:30 and took the taxi back to Vernon. Sat in café with Granda and had a sandwich de jambon (ham sam) & a croque monsieur.
Our train leaves at 6:00 and we are waiting at the station. Dinner tonight is at Grandamolie’s hotel, the Regina, at 7:30. This is the hotel on right bank on the corner just across from the street from the wing of the Louvre where le museé des arts décoratifs is located (where I am going to school).
Seed pearl earring surrounded by suspended bezel of baby seed pearls on French Wires from the Hotel Regina Bijoux & Joaillier Anciens & Antiquaires
Granda gave me a very beautiful pair of antique gold earrings with baby seed pearls in the bezel from the hotel jewelry shop. Teensy tintsy intricate construction, they are about 1/4″ diameter drop on French wires.
(end of journal entry)
Monet's Pink Stucco house with Green Trim at Giverny. I used little sponges to do the trees. This was one of my first painting classes and I'll have to tell you, it identified early on why anal people aren't (initially or ever?) very good painters. Way too tedious and don't take enough artistic license. I'm still trying to get past this stage...oil on canvas by Paula, winter 1983.
The painting above was done later from a photograph in my album from that summer. It’s not an exciting painting, but the colors do capture the place.
So Claude, it was a pleasure to visit your home, and with my Grandmother Millie, which made it even more special. And if only I could paint like you, I would paint a picture of the crossing at the Cimarron River on the XIT Ranch, for it is as beautiful a place as any in your pictures. And, I may still do this. It is clearer in my mind each day.
Dec 22 2011
Two little girls with two little curls in two little dresses making two little twirls…
I think it is universal that mothers with two girls dress their daughters alike when they are younger. It is just too fun to not do this. There is one Easter where all Graves girls, GG included, had beautiful matching Liberty-of-London looking print dresses, Gina and Paula with white hats and collars.
This works pretty well until the younger sister gets wise to the fact that she will have to wear this same outfit again in a few years and then it doesn’t seem so fun. I can’t imagine what it was like for people like Marthe Dreher who had four sisters in her family. Poor thing, she probably had to be pictured in the same dress for like a decade.
A whine about hand-me-downs.
There is a picture of me wearing a red kind of one-piece stretchy number that I DISTINCTLY remember was a hand-me-down because there was a patch of several stars at the knee which covered a hole that I DID NOT MAKE. Double-insult! I think I probably only really had to wear a “matching outfit deux fois” seulement un fois. But that has always been enough for me to complain loudly. So, I’ve gotten that out of my system, let’s begin the fashion show.
Oh, one more thing about doing this in the Adams Family.
I didn’t ever dress Jack and Lacy alike. They tend to look kind of alike when they are working with boots, jeans, and their rain-wind gear always happens to be blue. I’ve never was organized to exert much control over the whole visual picture thing as witnessed in my engagement picture in the Independent. I am wearing a black, yellow, red abstract print and John Adams is wearing plaid madras. All I can say is Thank Goodness it wasn’t in color.
Lacy Adams had a brother and two boy cousins, so in her case, the dressing alike at Christmas was really only one Christmas. It was a three-sweater-some ensemble which my mother put together for a Christmas of the Graves, Lloyd, Adams in KC. I can’t put my hands on the picture right now, but I think they all said “Cowboy.” It’s okay, GG bought me one of the coolest sweaters I ever had (it was pictured on Torey Time with me and GG) at the boys department, at Jones I think.
Lace, Boy, Boy.
Oh, wait, I just saw one picture of the three Graves grandchildren in red longjohns at Christmas so I will put that in. The boys got a “boy” label, but I suppose Lace didn’t because no one has ever mistaken her yet for a boy, though she does look quite a bit like her father.
And on the runway…
Scaary! It's a better effect when both baby and doll eyes are wide-open.
I have to put in a few of these of just me from the first Christmas when I was alive, mainly because they are probably universal family traditions. Well, maybe not this first one, but if it is with your mother’s sense-of-humor please post. Which is, 1) to put the live baby by the plastic baby (preferably a vintage doll or least requisite to have those blinking eyes) and photograph them together.Often, it is difficult to differentiate one from the other. It has never really been discussed. But my mom kept the scrapbooks and thankfully continued to feed with the best pictures and has continued to add these of grandchildren and cousins. Don’t you think it’s jarring? Probably PTSD from a nightmare about some doll baby that talked on Dark Shadows or an old pre-chucky flick.
2) The baby opening the package at First Christmas Picture.
Everyone has one of these in their scrapbook.
3) The Mother Holding smiling baby in front of tree picture.
New second time mother with bouncing baby on lap in front of Christmas tree.
I think I will just carry on with the tradition theme.
4) Being pictured with a Great-Grandmother and two girls in architectural Chair. The first part is pretty darned important and we all know why because we’re getting closer every day. The second part is because these funky chairs seem to follow around the child who most needs the extra furniture which was moi. This one has a name, but my dad or mom will have to post that. It’s like a big round ring and kind of woven, sits low to the ground, Danish Modern. I think it is still over at the bunkhouse at the East Ranch, I might want this back. I want to say Bertoia but that is a batwing chair that is in the master bedroom at the XIT Headquarters.
Paula with ball-a, Gina, Nano, Paula, Gina and Paula in chair.
5) Pictures of evidence of someone baking and hints of future food issues. Later these become more evident as worn directly around the waistline. I am sure many people have these in their albums, and all I can say is that there is a bonus to identifying the problem early on.
a Picture documenting seasonal cookies and eating habits.
6) Picture documenting how girls go from baby dolls to hard stiff little dolls with great clothes and accessories. Personally if it were my choice, there would be a soft cuddly baby girl dolly with really great clothes. At least that would be my doll role model.
Dollies gets dollies in sage green velvet with lace top and bows.
A Scottish Tradition.
7) Everyone has to have a Highland Christmas Fling. This was before I went to Highlands School, though. The Adams Family is actually Scotch-Irish but I’ve never really seen any of those Adams Cowboys or Sisters wear any kilts or even a plaid cummerbund. Anne Cornwell Gall had some Scottish Plaid boxers and a wool plaid fringed scarf which she would don in the Theta House lounge with just her bra when appearing as, “Tartan Girl.” Wish I had a picture.
Florence Eiseman
8) In our Florence Eisemans. We had several, but I felt like this particular time period was really smash with the simplified appliqués and jumpers that tied on the sides. Very contemporary as it was 60s for what is usually a very traditional clothing line. I think store on Plaza was somewhere over by hmmm…changes so often…a chain rib place, Buca di Beppo, Steve’s, one of those stores like Abercrombie that used to be really nice and kind of mass-marketed….Anyway, what was there in my day was a Bennet Schneider, a place to buy and get fitted for shoes where you stood on a platform and had feet squeezed, and Cricket West. Or so we can all get located with something that will always be there, across from that triangular block with the shoe repair.
Green velvet pantsuits.
9) The year we all had pantsuits Christmas. These were beautiful and not too long after that my mother had a purple velvet pantsuits. She wore it to dinner at Putsch’s 210 and I think maybe she had to go home and change into a dress. Hadn’t come to KC yet, I guess.
A nod to the Germans.
10) More ethnic Christmases…a nod to our German brethren and a slight strain I have to admit in my own. Sometimes comes out in rigidity and a leaning tendency towards Paternalistic Systems.
Wow, 2 dirndls....Good work, GG!
I had to put in this other one I found when I was younger. It actually looks pretty authentic, so I am wondering if my parents or Grandparents had taken a trip. I think maybe Gina had one, too, but that pic’s in her scrapbook. Her’s was blue.
Handmade nightgowns!
11) Grandmother Handmade Gowns that were better than Lanz! My tiny talented Grandamartha Graves made us these beautiful handmade nightgowns, every year and more. She was amazing with colors and prints. They were softer than soft and big and cozy and never had scratchy places in the inside like Lanz gowns can have with the lace. I think they all had a ribbon at the neck.
Grandamartha also had the best embroidered hankie collection I’ve ever seen, was a master at découpage which I learned and used on a handpainted cowgirl dresser in Lace’s bedroom, and had these great little soaps all over that had some kind of little applique that she would put on them. I loved staying with Grandamartha as we always made stuff and I got to watch soap operas on TV while she ironed downstairs in the basement.
a picture counting down to Christmas on Christmas Day!
12) The Advent Calendar and Old Maid Coffeecake. Traditions. My mom made these Advent Calendars. They were appliqued and hers were very contemporary as they were a stylized tree (felt?) on a burlap background. Each little pocket below had a tiny ornament in it and she also found the neatest most special little things with meaning. From the first of December to Christmas Day, we would do this in the morning before school. We always ate ate breakfast together in the kitchen. Gina and I would take turns taking out the little surprise in each pocket to tie on the tree. It definitely taught me a love for tiny things and also the rewards of anticipation and delayed gratification!
The Old Maid Coffeecake is another tradition from my Grandmother and maybe her mother…? It is basically flour, salt, butter, eggs, sugar, pecans, brown sugar, maybe some baking soda. Lots of good stuff in proportion to the batter so every bite is delish.
Well, that is it for the Fashion Show which turned into Graves Family Christmas Traditions. Thank you mom, Ginny Graves, for all of the photographs taken and so well organized in our Webway albums. You are amazing!
Merry Christmas in Pictures!
Dec 11 2011
Look at my hands! I'm terrified!
I actually have quite a few very vivid memories of Santa in person. It seems like many of them are jarring, so I’ll just start with the one that always comes to mind first. Don’t get me wrong, I do love and believe in Santa Claus.
There is really no reason why I shouldn’t just adore to be with Santa in person and here are 10 to support that statement.
So, that being said, here’s the story and I’ll make it kind of shorter at least:
We were in Hays at my Grandparents house down the street from Fort Hays University. It was picture perfect setting, 60s contemporary stone fireplace across one end of the living room with bar hidden within the paneling, a beautiful huge tree in their tall-ceiling living room library. And nightgowns hand-made by my other GrandaMartha in Kansas City.
I think the man who channeled Santa Claus’s name was Ed something. Maybe my mom or dad will post his name. I remember the doorbell ringing. And in he walked. He looked probably the best I have ever seen him look. And I was excited in a good way. Until he came in and sat down on that chair. Then I knew something was making me uneasy. You can see in this picture that I am wringing my hands.
I often have a hard time identifying my emotions until way after event, sometimes even years, fear in particular. So, we talked to Santa for a bit. I answered his questions and made it through my performance anxiety syndrome which flares up whenever I get put on the spot, practically anytime I am with people.
And then it was time for the picture. He was crouched in front of the tree and I was standing by his knee, closest to Santa. Santa put his arm around me and placed it on my hip. And then I knew why I was so nervous. Being taught that it was more healthy to go to bed without panties, there was really only this thin flannel membrane between me and Santa’s hand. I think he had even taken off his glove.
I do know I made it through without losing my composure. And honestly, it’s only just now after having flashbacks of this for years that am understanding why and linking together these images and feelings. So I have no real conclusion to this story. But, I do think that I was ahead of my time in sensing when to be leery of men. I am my parents’ daughter and it has served me well on most occasions. I am not suggesting any inappropriate behavior by this Santa; this was in the early 60s and things were different then. Or not.
So while there is always a time for a mother to lecture, “Lacy, you CANNOT wear any underwear with that red dress,” there is also a time for mother’s words at Christmas.
advice: to girls, young and old,
on Christmas Eve and when visiting a shopping mall
where Santa might ask you to sit on his lap.
Wear your big girl underpants.
And, if Santa exhibits any inappropriate behavior,
tell him to keep his hands to himself.
Addenda, as that was a bit too harsh.
How about, “Santa, just keep it above the waist?”
-Mama Paula
Dec 11 2011
Dec 7 2011
Red Christmas Tree, Santa, Green Christmas Tree.
Jack Adams drawing of Santa Claus. age 4 1/2.
Drawn on a trip to GrandaGG’s at 5328 W. 67th St. in Prairie Village. July, 1995.
My mother Ginny Graves was the Art Lady from the Nelson Gallery. She was also the creator and director of all of the Art Programs in the Johnson County Library System.
I got to help her with these things, making stuff, being with other kids, on tv, setting up and cleaning up for classes, even teaching an art Class at Cedar Roe Library when I was 12 one summer.
But, most of all I am most thankful because I got to MAKE STUFF. And it was all organized ahead because she got all the supplies and paints and yarn and whatever for whatever general area of project that was proposed. In my mom’s case unlike grade school art, this was very loosely defined so that the creator could let their mind wander on just a few ideas thrown out.
Plus, my mother gets the best art out of EVERYONE.
Anyway, these are two things my mom will say. It don’t know if she is just magical, or if it is just someone who knows the value in taking the time and the interest to say it to a child or an adult, to ask this question.
“Draw me a picture.” -Ginny Graves.
“In creating, the only hard thing is to begin.” -James Russell Lowell.
How flattering that someone feels enough about your ideas to help you start. That is what my mother was called upon to do at this time and throughout her life.
Then later, she will always say this.
“Tell me about your picture.” -Ginny Graves.
This makes it an even more special picture because both people can then learn about the thoughts and processes of using our eyes and what is inside of our heads to form an idea, a plan, that progressively gets down onto the paper.
“Creation is only the projection into form of that which already exists.” -Shrimad Bhagavatam
When someone cares enough to be interested and feels that they can learn something by hearing what you were thinking when you did it, how you formulated an idea and made it come forth, it is a confidence builder. Feeling your creative is empowerment.
Creative expression in whatever means, sales, business, relationships, doodles, cooking, style, and even working our sometimes wacked out minds-emotions for both positive or not-always-so-positive means involves time and energy. I feel that figuring out how and when and why we are always creating in life, whether conscious or not, and how to harness it is one of life’s challenges. Then, to focus it, to rein it in and put it into positive directions that are better for ourselves and others. That is ultimately, maybe, what we all are striving to do?
I don’t want to get into too many quotes from my yogi book that told me about all the chakras but creativity is your second one (they go from bottom up).
Read below,
“good to know“, and
“wouldn’t you know?” in a nutshell.
(And then I do want to talk about Jack’s great drawing.)
SECOND CHAKRA
Jack’s Santa. A mother’s thoughts.
I don’t know if he said this to mom and she told me or if I am just looking at this drawing to try to figure it out. Probably the first as you know how it is with small kids, sometimes we don’t take the time and this is for what we have Grandmother’s. I like to draw, and did some art stuff with the kids, but I can be a real micro-manager which is counter-productive. I was a better manager-mother in general when I got busy having my own life.
Legs
I would think that the long legs are because Santa has to go down that long chimney. We are a rather small family in stature, so that’s a pretty long jump from the top of our roof down into the living room at the XIT Headquarters. So, these long legs at least get Santa down through that circuitous shaft that runs from the top of the later second-story roof of the house, through the attic, and to about the ceiling of the living room. He can jump that last flight, that’s nothing with those legs.
Head
I don’t know about all the editing on Santa’s head with just the eyes, the long, thick bare neck, or that shriner’s thing on top of Santa’s head and won’t conjecture. He has Santa’s black belt. But you can see, the legs to get down were the most important consideration.
Trees
I think the trees are wonderful. Instead of thinking about the trunk, it seems like it is just getting the essence of the shape of the tree, very stylized. The tufts of green are both representing, to me, the tufts of needles on the trees but arranged almost like ornaments or lights so it is all in green. And the one tree is red.
Jack and Color. And conformity.
Jack, in another project, never seemed to be bothered that his wine bottle tissue paper reindeer body was red, not brown. When my mom asked him how he chose his color for the reindeer, Jack responded something to the effect of liking red, “of course, GG.” Rudolf did have a red nose, though.
This was also the case in Meade Grade School when the children would color in the line drawing of the Jack o’ Lantern which would then decorate the window of the Stockgrower’s State Bank. All of his classmates would color in perfect orange pumpkins with green stems, with the goal to “stay within the lines.” There would be 22, all lined up where they were displayed. I drove by one day to get money and saw that there was a purple one with some patchwork, color extending all over the paper and I knew that was my son’s. He did make the stem green, so it’s not as if he didn’t have some semblance of respect for context of fellow pumpkin artists.
So, mainly I was thinking about Christmas this year, about my parents, and had this drawing stuck away in a folder to share with everyone this season. So here’s the main point!
Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!
Nov 28 2011
Just a word of clarification…
I have to qualify the use of the term “Cowgirl.” I use it as a state of mind, not as any profession which could claim me as an associate. I do ride a horse, can herd cattle without causing a rampage, and I have a hill on the XIT to where I would ride on a regular basis and look back at the river and the XIT Headquarters.
But cowgirls are really born. They are born to fathers who are cowboys and cattleman who work in the trenches. Not all daughters of these men are cowgirls. Just the ones who worked alongside the other men. Some rope and tie, others vaccinate and herd and brand. The three real cowgirls I know in the Adams family are Wanda Adams, Chelsea Adams, and Lacy Adams. But that’s another post.
So. Today is 29 years to the day of our wedding day. And I am celebrating another person who in so many ways made me who I am today, John Adams, just as I feel about my parents. I definitely pulled my weight and worked this gift of parents and husband as I have done with other God given gifts. I need to do a bit more of this for myself and cut them some slack from all the burdens that come along with this responsibility, but I am eternally grateful.
So I will try not to talk (too much), but here are some pictures of stuff leading up to the wedding, the big day, and of our honeymoon in Chicago for three days before heading west in a u-haul to begin the adventure.
Dean Graves is laughing at one of his own jokes in the lower left photo. Probably something witty sensing my fear of this new burden of “stuff.” I inherited this tendency to do big belly laughs at my own jokes.
I just mainly remember that John Adams would look at it all and say, “you are really getting great stuff.” This is translated as, “these things we both will cook and serve off of are yours so you will write the thank you notes” and extended on into wedding gifts. We had some perfectly nice “Paula & John” cards custom designed by the calligrapher for Loretto Chapel in Santa Fe, Mary Lou Cook, but I don’t really remember John using these :). But, he had to pack it and haul it and unpack in a u-haul over bumpy roads, not breaking a dish. As he did two more times to Lawrence and Wichita over the course of our marriage, which is more moving of stuff and wife than most husbands would tolerate. So this really counts for much, much more.
Here is a brief concept and history page for my Paula Varsalona wedding dress. Sandra Kenney, former KU cheerleader, the most beautiful Pi Phi at KU in the 50s, former wife of Bob Kenney, was the buyer for The Jones Store at that time.
Beautiful Kenney women: Sandy, Karen, Kirsten.
She was a good friend of my mother, Kirsten my good friend, and the reason why The Jones Store got all the best designers at that time. And, the models to wear them…Terri Sue Walters and Kitty Bliss. Terry’s picture is underneath my head on the Independent Cover and Kitty’s beautiful picture was on the cover when our engagement picture appeared. So, I am honored to be pictured in a magazine with photos of such beautiful and photographed Kansas City women!
A cover, concept, lace mitts and shoes, and two Paulas at a dress fitting. Professional and hobby designing women.
My mother spotted another $1,000.00 shorter lace dress that was also very beautiful and classic with a plunging neckline. It would have been lovely, but I opted for this $325.00 more Victorian number which I styled with the lace mitts, shoes, and dropping the veil for a crown of baby’s breath with some tiny ribbon streamers. Both dresses seemed like a lot of money at that time, but nothing compared to the rest of the party. What our fathers do…
Here are some of the friends who were at the University Club on Nov. 27, 1982.
George Waugh, Mike Tutera, back of David Kerr's head.
Christie Reed Reniger, Ed Bolen, Kate Nettels Faerber
Julie Connally, Karen Majors Bogle, Alison DeGoler.
Dr. Dick Dreher, head of Children's Mercy Hospital, Marthe's date?, Marthe Dreher Tamblyn.
David Stubbs and my cousin, Wendy Ward.
Alison Weideman Ward, Eleanor Stolzer?
Molly Miller, Lynn Kindred, Susan Grier, Kathy Kindred.
Bridget O'Brien and Elaine Beeson.
Scott Ward and Liz Waugh.
Jamie and John Kane, Carney Nulton.
Mary Beth Simpson, John Simpson, Bradley Grover Simpson.
Mary Stauffer and Sam Brownback.Two Jack's and a Jane: Savings and Home, Dicus and Frost.
? Beta?, Elaine Scarborough, Greg Duvall, John's Patient Pledge Dad.
And here are some family pictures…
Raymond Adams and Sandra Dublin Frizzell Adams with her parents. So I am kind of related by (ex) marriage(s) to both McKinley Winter Feedyard, Cindy Brown, and Tripp Frizzell and Alison Miller Frizzell in a way.
David Adams, 12-step Guru across the High Plains. Judy Robert Adams, great-niece of Sally Chisum, a wife on the XI Ranch who never lived there and niece of John Chisum. William Robert, Judy's Grandfather was the former co-owner of the XI Ranch Landholdings before H.G. Adams partnered with him to fence and water, subsequently buying the holdings from Robert.
Ginny Graves, my mother and co-party planner who handled all the details. In a great mother-of-the-bride frock with Allison Ball in the background in a smash pink and black party dress.
And look! Heavy Hitter Jessie Adams and a dashingly handsome man (Bud Helm?) and heavy hitter and my bro Randy Knotts at left.
I’m assuming they all attended the nuptials at 4:00 at Second Presbyterian Church, but I didn’t look around. It was another stage performance where I was gripped with both fear and emotion.
In part, I hold Gina responsible (my maid of honor) as she was beside me crying when I said my vows at the altar at Second Presbyterian Church. This of course precipitated my crying while I said “I do.” John later expressed concern that others would think I was crying because we were getting married. We were both wearing our parents shoes. I actually was sad at the idea of my father giving me away. But as they say, “a son is a son until he takes a wife, but a daughter is a daughter for the rest of her life.”
At the University Club, someone took these candids in the room where all the food was. It was freezing rain that Thanksgiving Day. So, many of the older guests wanted to get in, wish me well, and get safely back home.
Where did the saying, “Rain is good luck on your wedding day” come from?
YAHOO! Answers.
It pops up through Shakespeare’s works and I imagine it would have to do with a pastoral society, where rain would symbolize fertility-hence it is good luck on a wedding day!
So after having a thoroughly wonderful beautiful month of Paris with rain every day and living on a very dry ranch in western Kansas and a wedding day of heavy rain, Paula the Pisces Water Child is always happy to see raindrops, curly hair and all.
But back to University Club, the point is that I’m putting in this picture at the lower right of this “media page” because it is in the library of the University Club. This was pretty much all I saw of my wedding reception until about 8:00 after which John and I did the bouquet (Beth Van Winkle Ewing, Theta now in Dallas) and and garter toss (Ed Bolen). Then we bolted, socially exhausted. One reason I now adore other people’s weddings!
The length of the writeup in the Beaver is only shadowed by the coverage in the Meade-Globe Press which is not included. They noted every detail of my outfit that I had so lovingly chosen. I was both embarrassed and tickled pink.
We spent the night at the Kansas City Club, arranged by John’s step-mom-at-that-time- Sandra (the Wichita Falls most beautiful party planner and gift wife). She had medium-rare filets with three sauces (a bernaise, hollandaise, and a horseradish cream) delivered to our room. The next morning we lay around in bed all morning and watched Little Big Man with Dustin Hoffman. Then, John had to go back to Lawrence to prepare for his finals and a project with some Brian guy from business school who had transferred from engineering school.
We had a few people to dinner at this apartment in Lawrence during finals. Pat Boppart I do remember, but I cannot remember the others who were still finishing up their college careers. I had chicken breasts stuffed with boursin because it was John’s turn to cook that week. John and Pat argued about how one person of these two felt it was not an even trade for one person to have t-bones and the other to serve spam, though Pat defended this staunchly. I tasted spam later in life, as I have also tasted dogfood, and it is really not all that bad.
Our first Christmas was in Lawrence at Hillcrest Apartments, but I will also do this in a later post in the advent countdown to Christ’s birth. I am more exhausted from this wedding post than I was from the actual wedding.
I will include pictures of our honeymoon in Chicago, a gift from Kevin Pistilli. He and Tina met us there for dinner at the Pump Room. This didn’t happen until later, but honeymoons are a part of the wedding picture so they are included here.
The Raphael, the Cape Cod Room at the Drake, Frank Lloyd Wright's first big residential project in Oak Park and tour of his home.
I am looking forward to the holidays and remembering some very early times with my husband and friends from pictures that I am sure my mother took.
Before a house,
before children,
before a place that would be my life for 29 years and always in my mind.
I hope the others that were married that day in Kansas City (there were four of us, Gibson Rymar and Sara Jury and….??) are also celebrating.
Of course, it is now the 28th as I didn’t get it done by day’s end. This is the day I always I incorrectly remembered as my wedding date. It was always just “the Saturday after Thanksgiving” in my mind…it didn’t matter much as we were usually always having fun with friends and family in the city and would forget to celebrate.
So now I will take the time to say, “Happy Anniversary John!” But this time it is a joke because I remembered yesterday to celebrate this day, the start of my big life adventures that still continue.
love, Paula.
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