Back from a week of NYC travel. A different kind of holiday, a different kind of time spent in NYC.
We usually spend Thanksgiving with old friends in a country setting but that didn’t work for us this year and so, Julia and I were in NYC, actually Kew Gardens, Queens, with Cheshire. The time was notable because we spent more time in her apartment than we have in the past and did not do any visiting of family or friends. Continue reading
On Saturday, Julia and I went to our second Zentangle class at FUS. The instructor, who encourages Julia, instructed most of us at a comfortable speed. Julia drew three times the amount that the rest of us did, adding detail, changing patterns, making mistakes and altering her spaces on the little tiles. Her tile is the one in the middle.
Last Wednesday, we had a parent-teacher conference. Julia conducted the conference, reading her notes on how she had done the preceding quarter and what she intended to do this next quarter. She has made the honor roll last quarter of 7th grade and this first of 8th grade, and she is proud of herself. She entered middle school not caring in the least about grades or tests or comparing herself to anyone. Her grades are scaled, she is not really compete with her typical classmates, but for me, she competes with the girl who started 6th grade and I see how far she has come.
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Did grandpa love me? Was grandpa excited when I came home? Did grandpa scoop me up when I was a little baby? Did I have a dress on when I met grandpa? He did think I was cute? My grandpa would never abandon me. My grandpa is handsome.
During breakfast, I was checking Facebook and Julia spied a picture of her grandfather, David’s father, that one of her cousins posted on Veterans Day. It unleashed a torrent of questions and ideas that must have been bottled up for sometime.
It was a candid picture of Bob Schanker during his air force days. A half smile, jaunty tilt of the head and obviously happy. He was a navigator during the Second World War and, if his stories were to be believed, he lived some of the best years of his life during that time. He thrived in the company of men from all over the country. He explored outside of his Jersey roots. He was no longer under his mother’s thumb. He saw a little action — I’m not sure how much. Most of his time was spent state side, first learning and honing his skills, and later teaching those navigators who came in behind him. Much later, he would become a favorite and beloved high school business teacher and so I do not doubt that his gifts were put to good use in the service. There are many pictures of the girls and/or women he met during his service time. He had no special girl at home, at least the way he told it, and so flirted and socialized (and took pictures) as he moved from base to base.
Chasing Joy 