TAKING OUR TALENTS TO----------------

WELL--- JR DID A GOOD THING -- THEY GOT THE REBOUND AFTER THE FREE THROW

Then he dribbled it all away.

Is there a lesson here.  Yeah--for LeBron get out of Dodge.
For JR hope that you are allowed to play  in the Finals on Sunday
For Lue  try to call and use all of your time outs.  Learn from Brad. Having slept on this early reaction--
I came up with a  better notion 

 YES-- from the GOSPELS

LOVE COVERS A MULTITUDE OF SINS

How does that connect to what  happened on the basketball court ?
Or as an old  song  asked  -- 
WHAT'S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT?
 People  who play basketball must love the game.
There is no doubt that LeBron loves the  game
And surely whatever we may think or hear of his  "Basketbal IQ"
JR also loves basketball.  He  did not screw up on purpose.

While I was working on  another essay project I suddenly felt that maybe LeBron would have something  to say and I put the NBA channel on and  sure enough he was  coming to the podium.
Sometimes I think that there are things  I need to see and hear and these promptings  which I pay attention to seem to bring them to  my mind.
Sure enough LeBron was filled with good  advice.  What I love about him--or I should say--one of the many things that I love is that he remembers where he came from. And when the reporters asked him  how  the CAVS would recover from the adversity of Game One.  

HE stopped them at the word ADVERSITY.
If losing a First Game in  the NBA Finals in Overtime is your idea of adversity--you do not know what adversity is.

SO RIGHT AND SO GENUINE.  It is not adversity--it is fun!!
And I thought we are on the same wave length. IF this is adversity --you have lived a charmed life.  LeBron and I have not lived a  charmed life.
 SO AGAIN  HE TELLS THE TRUTH AS I KNOW IT TOO.
I guess that is the secret of deep fandom--the fan--me--thinks she understands the star LEBRON
and when the star speaks the fan thinks that he is telling something that shows they share some of the same values and priorities. 

TIME TO DIG AND PLANT

Making a Garden

HERE IS A BLOG ENTRY  THAT I WROTE IN AUGUST 2013

with some additional comments and  reality checks

Making a garden when you cannot dig a hole is  a difficult feat.

(you must RE-read the above sentence to  gauge the extent of my fantasy world) and how much I lie to myself.

I want to yell back at myself--

IT IS NOT JUST DIFFICULT IT IS IMPOSSIBLE, YOU FOOL

Here is the old blog entry as written--

Last weekend I got inspired by the Tax holiday and decided to buy some plant material  from garden outlets in nearby Massachusetts.

I drove over to the Home Depot with my neighbor--who also cannot dig much.  And we scouted the  garden shop.  My conclusion was that there were not enough trees and the prices were still too high.  Then I was inspired to cruise over to the garden  area of the nearby KMART,  and I could see that they were offering some real bargains.  So when it began to pour down rain,we headed home and resolved to return the next day.

And we did--I bought 10 plants--mostly trees and some shrubs.  My neighbor also  bought a few items.  We jammed them into the trunk of my old Volvo--it has a kind of hidden capacity to carry  large items --when I   push down the back seats and extend the trunk space to include the rear passenger seat.  So all the trees   were crowded into the trunk, and we were able to close the  trunk and carry our prizes safely home.

My next test was to determine how I would get the plants into the ground. My husband is older than I am and has no affinity for gardening.  But I  broke the job down into three events, and said surely we could dig  3 or  4  holes each day and get the  plants into the ground.

I cannot tell you what a battle raged and how often I  had to  implore him to try to make the hole just a little bigger.

Now they are all in their new spots.  It  looks like a garden from hell because they sit in the  midst of weeds and long grass.

My next move will be to buy many  bags of mulch and compost to encourage  growth and  protect them from the  changes of the winter season. 

I wonder how many of these  cut-rate trees and shrubs will take hold and thrive,  and how many will perish. But then again--I ask that question of just about everything these days.  It has all become so precarious and uncertain--and I know that we are  all perishing. But before we go, let's do what we can do.

I used to think that I could control and make things happen--now I see that was an illusion too.

Almost five years later and  reading this is discouraging.
 Now taking up the gardening without hole-digging  dilemma in 2018

   

Just heard LeBron reacting to the news that Kevin Love will not play in Game 7 in Boston. 

 IF YOU LOVE CHALLENGES, THIS IS A GREAT OPPORTUNITY.

We could say that about every day of our lives. BUT  as we get older the challenge  becomes more apparent and the opportunity seems to be  diminishing.

Tonight I heard that BIG IF   in  LeBron's comment.

What is my big challenge?  To have a garden and flowers and roses thriving even though  I cannot do the  work of gardening any more.

How can I reach that goal--I can't do it alone  but I can get some help.
So I went on line  to a group called Next Door which is a neighborhood resource group, and I asked  if anyone knew anyone who could  cut grass and do a little gardening.

 I needed to hire such a person. They made some suggestions. I followed up and  a man came by for an interview. And I hired him.  He seems to know something about planting and he has his own equipment.  Two mowers in two years have walked away from here  because I would hire people who came by and offered to mow my grass when they saw it was high but they did not own a lawn mower.

OLD CRONE SPEAKS:One of the realities of getting older  in our  unequal society is that you  become PREY. So after one lawn cutting and leaving the grass  they cut on the ground-- no raking up --I paid them.  I could not walk around and inspect the job. They left  and they never came back. But  someone did --and someone  took  my mower away. TWICE!
Three times  seems to be  a charm-- because I interviewed a man who answered my  request and he came by with  his truck and his power mower and did a great job.  He even planted the 5 roses that I had succumbed to  and ordered from the WAYSIDE GARDENS catalogue,
THANK YOU, JOE!

ACCORDING TO VEGAS THE CAVS ARE A BAD BET!

I was asking myself 
--why do I want to even see the  CAVS go down to defeat.

But today I thought again about  how much LeBron struggled to bring  his team to the Finals.
And I thought if he can stand to play this game--I can stand to watch.

Oh --I know our compensation is different.  And my new CAVS 23  shirt has not been delivered. 
But LBJ seems genuinely excited by the prospect. Of course, that is his  job.  AND yes, think of how  the Celtics would love to be in  his place.  SO do not spurn this, Norma.
 AND   what a delight it would be to win any games -- even one -- against the GSW.
So I think  that you can see where this is going. 
I will also line up the National Spelling Bee which is pretty riveting and switch if things get  too nasty  in the game. 

SO THAT IS THE GAME PLAN. 

THEY JUST SHOWED LEBRON ENTERING THE 
ORACLE  AND HE WAS WEARING  A  SUIT AND TIE AND THE SUIT  HAD  SHORTS  NOT LONG PANTS.

ALREADY  HE SHOWS SUCH PANACHE!
I got the BEE on the  Just watched  button. 
I got my CAVS CAP ON .
READY--SET--GOOOOO--

The Cavs are all in the action early and it is helping them to  keep up in the scoring.

amaranthine--UNFADING, UNDYING

perduellion ---- treason

The Cavs are ahead by  5 points. Amd  they are all  playing their parts

one that goes before --fourrier
the soft down that covers a newborn  --lanugo

a division or part of a poem--passus

wading aquatic birds-- jacana

The CAVS let their advantage slip away--and now LeBron is writhing on the  floor. 
Draymond Green is getting brutal. Curry managed a last minute three pointer and it is all tied  up going into the  half.


NOW BEWARE THE SLAUGHTER
IN THE THIRD QUARTER

But look LeBron is on to the 3rd  quarter surge and he thwarts it  at every turn. KD is avoiding LBJ,

Terrible reversal of  fortune.  I know the  basketball gods are fickle but this ending is ridiculous.  JR what game were you playing?

The officials should just put on the GSW  uniforms so the confusion level drops.

LATE IN THE NATIONAL SPELLING BEE

HAECITAS---thisness---the essence of anything, the  fact that each of us is this and not that. LeBron's thisness is 
CHAMPION.
51 points in the First  game in the ORACLE!

Last word in the Spelling Bee--

Koinonia-- intimate spiritual connection -- where was that last night--it was clear in LeBron's  fabulous  performance. He has a direct line to Basketball  immortality.

DUCKTAILS AT DICKS

I am not sure  exactly when ducktails emerged in Pawtucket

I can remember that when I was only 6 years old I would watch my Aunt Anna get  dressed for her Saturday night dance.  She went to a place called the German Club in Pawtucket or Warner's Dance Hall on Broad Street with her girl friends. In the summer she would go to Rhodes on the Pawtuxet and to  Crescent Park or Rocky Point. Dancing was what people did then. That is how they met up--no MATCH.COM, not  texting--they got dressed  up and went out dancing.

Sometimes ANNA would  complain when she came home about the greasers who had asked her to dance. And describe their slicked back long hair : their constant combing and touching of their hairstyles
 Or even comment  on the  ZOOT Suiters swinging their long chains and walking along the line of women waiting to dance and then making their pick. Anna always refused--or so she told me and my mother as we sat listening with breathless excitement.
When ANNA was not home,  I was not allowed to go into her room -- she would come out screaming like a BANSHEE after work when she discovered something disturbed in her fragrant kingdom. 

And yes, we would wait up for ANNA to come back from the  Saturday night dance,  Anna was a  real beauty--I  adored her clothes and her make up and her fabulous jet black hair, long and curly.

I hope that  my readers know that this is one thing that I am absolutely sure of--whatever was in style in 1949 --- was showing up on the streets of  Pawtucket.  Just as it does today.  Sometimes driving down  Newport Avenue I am amazed at the local adaptations of current styles 
And the teenage versions of the latest  styles actually showed up at Dick's.
But no one was asking anyone to dance.
They were more often looking for a fight.

BOYS IN LEATHER JACKETS

Why Dick's Variety was off -Limits

I guess I have dropped enough hints that the boys who  invaded the  Barrel Yard at Night were the same boys sitting around smoking at Dick's Variety Store.

They were boys  who had duck tail haircuts all glossy and  combed back.  They often  pulled  alluring curls down over their foreheads like  Superman's curl.  They wore jeans and white t-shirts.  But best of all they carried their cigarette packs rolled up in the left arm of their shirt.  There was something so cool about that fact. 

They were dangerous and no nice girl would ever speak to them. 
And they gathered at Dick's.  My mother  never sent me to Dick's for groceries. So what excuse did I have for dropping by DICK's--but only if I was alone??\

Dick kept a  large cooler full of ice and soda bottles-no cans-- just by the door. That was the draw on a hot summer day. I would go in and grab a soda and pay my dime and then drink it outside.  I never said a word. There was a rough wooden shelf along one side of the store and  some of the customers would sit there inside with their cold drinks.  They often had chugging contests. I would stand and watch--then after awhile if there was an empty spot, I would sit down.

I watched and tried to see  how they did it. In one continuous  draining gulp.
I started to practice  with cold water and an empty soda bottle at home.  I choked at first but then as I learned to relax my throat I could let an entire  bottle of water glide down. I began saving  my dimes.
So I never spoke there unless someone spoke to me. VERY RARE.

One day-- a hot July day I squeezed in with about 6 boys and  as  each of them popped the top of the bottle they would say "I'm in."  That day I  chimed in "I'm in too,"  I did  not expect to win--that is finish first--but I did know that I could finish
What I hadn't expected was the fizz of the orange soda up my nose. 
I didn't choke, but I had to go slow--I finished last--but I finished.

After that the boys spoke to me, they asked me my name and if they were chugging, so was I. 
That was a beginning and in a sense that was the end. Nothing else happened. I was only 9 years old; they were teenagers.
Then one day something scary happened--not to me--No, but right in front of me

DO I WANT TO WATCH THE NBA FINALS?

         STOP THE SLAUGHTER 
        IN THE THIRD QUARTER

 I am not filled with enthusiasm. I do not want to watch another Curry and the GSW  victorious. I do not want to see LeBron hasten his demise by doing too any super-human feats on the basketball court.

Will I have my TV tuned  to the game on Thursday night?  Yes, I would be lying if I said --NO WAY.

But I will also carefully look for and select a movie on  one of the other channels.  I will put it in the Last Watched and I can switch in an instant if  I hate what I am seeing.

I am going to wear my CAVS CAP  and I did jump to it and ordered a LeBron  Finals Shirt.  SO I will be in full regalia  for those few minutes that  my team is in the lead.
Then if they lose,  I will pull my shirt off like LeBron did in the tunnel when they lost the finals and he announced his flight to MIAMI.

I would like to take my talents elsewhere--any where with a milder winter and a more accessible house.

But my Aunt Grace once said something about my father and now I know she was right:

The Jenckes' are like the Blackstone River--we can run through Pawtucket  but we can never really leave.

SHE WAS A WISE WOMAN-- and she was right, even Norman came back.
                              

REMEMBERING ED HOGAN

The Father Barry  CYO  on Denver Street in Pawtucket

Everything seemed to change in 1949-50 but it wasn't all bad.  Disaster would  wait until 1953 to strike.
But something new came into our lives when my mother became aware of the CYO Center on Denver St near the  convents of the Sisters of Mercy and the White sisters--both now obliterated.

I don't know the extent of their programs now but I think  the CYO building is still there.  
No it is not --I just  drove by to check and it  has been torn down also to make way for what looks like a new gym building for Saint Raphael Academy.

But in 1950 -52  I do know that under the direction of Mr Ed Hogan they ran a day camp at Goddard Park in the Summer months.  AND that he added a special two week camp for handicapped children--and he decided that could include my two sisters Janie and Sheila.
I do not know how  my mother applied or even learned of this camp--it must have been someone in the parish or  maybe through the good offices of JENARITA FOX, a Special Ed teacher  of a class at Grove St School that my sisters attended.

My mother took it all a step further and brought me to  meet Ed Hogan and asked if I could also attend the camp--that I loved to swim and had never been to a camp-- and that at home I was in charge of my  two sisters. So he made me a "Junior Counselor" for two weeks and I was allowed to  attend the camp  free of charge and to help with the handicapped campers. 

We were so happy to see a CYO bus pull up at our front door and  we would all three run down the stairs and get on the bus. We carried little bags that held our towels and bathing suits and swim caps. And each of us had a lunch box. 
 I was beginning one of the greatest living and learning experiences of my 7 years,  My sisters were with other children who had difficulties--not just Down Syndrome but some were deaf and dumb and some were autistic, and some simply refused to speak.

My job was to  help with lunch, to step in if there were any fights, and to help the campers get into their swim suits and  shower and change back into clothes after the swim.  I also helped with ARTS AND CRAFTS.  I learned a few new things like knitting, clay work and  advanced Gimp.

The Camp operated with a BUDDY SYSTEM and it was my job each  hour to blow my whistle--YES I HAD A WHISTLE!-- and to do a Buddy Check.  This was especially crucial if we were in the water.  If anyone was not near  his buddy, we would take both children out of the water. That worked well and most were always close to their BUDDIES.

Will it surprise anyone if I say that my sisters loved it-- especially Janie.  She loved company and she loved to talk--like me.
So she would babble without let up to the children who would not talk.  NO INTERRUPTIONS!
There was one  silent  little boy who was fearful of just about everything.  Janie would lead him everywhere and never stop talking about what was going on.
One day in the locker room after the swim a little miracle happened-- I was helping Janie and Sheila get dressed and I was buttoning their pinafores.  And the boy was struggling nearby to get out of his wet t-shirt, with it over his head, he yelled out  the first words he had spoken in years  HELP ME, JANIE.

WE all heard it and someone ran out to get a  Senior Counselor--
but that day he said no more.  In fact he started to cry  as we all crowded around, and Janie said  "Leave him alone."  And we  did and Janie took up her usual tasks: Drying him off, adjusting his clothes and babbling about the day. When  he came  back the next day, he still would not speak when prompted, but with Janie  he would repeat some of her words or just laugh along.
That Camp ended too soon for all of us.
I, who was so busy trying to hide my shameful stuttering, came to wonder if that Boy's silence was not just an extreme form of  STUTTERING FEAR --he avoided all speech.
And I vowed  not to  avoid speech, but  the big lesson that I learned was how much anyone hates to be always on the receiving end of HELP and CARE.  
Each of  us longs to be  useful and to help. The  BUDDY SYSTEM is a brilliant  antidote to  pity and self pity. Everyone is helping someone else.
The CYO CAMP was  Ed Hogan's  way to help my family and so many people in Pawtucket  to learn how to help themselves by helping others.