Author Archives: Phoebe (she / hers)

Librarytour: Gleason Library

17 Monday Oct 2011

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On a trip to New Hampshire, we dropped by the adorable and somewhat miniature Gleason Public Library. The creature above was accompanied by two or three other similarly puzzling statues. I assume they’re associated with a fable or children’s story, but I couldn’t determine which.

The animal in the photo is:
A.) Dog wearing a crow disguise?
B.) A rat doing the same?
C.) None of the above?

Your guess is as good as mine. A quick perusal of the library’s website did not lead to answers for me, but perhaps someone will stumble upon this blog post and shed some light.

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Whole Heart Vermont

13 Thursday Oct 2011

Posted by in Green Life, With Friends

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Over Columbus Day weekend, I had the opportunity to either travel down to New Jersey with my partner, or camp in Southern Vermont with friends.

I enjoy car rides with my partner because they provide a rich opportunity to catch up, to connect.  As both our families are settled on the Jersey Shore, I considered traveling to the city (NYC) with my mother to explore the MOMA, an activity planned as part of my 101 Things in 1001 Days project.

And then Vermont.  The friends I was to accompany are somewhat new in my life –sweet, bright-eyed, earnest world-savers.  The weekend included sleeping in a tent (I’m a bed/indoor plumbing sort), apple-picking (to which I look forward to every year), and other outdoor activities.  It was a risk.  Would I have fun?  Was it fair to attend while my partner pried shingles off his parent’s roof in the hot sun?  What would I eat?

Somehow, somewhere in me bubbled up my old resolve that, if intimidated, all the reason to rush in.  I called on the girl I’ve long appreciated for her tenacity and resourcefulness.  The girl who says oops! and then laughs.

So glad I did.

Librarytour: Paris Public Library

12 Wednesday Oct 2011

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Every summer my partner and I spend time in Peru, Maine with friends. Some years we take a little break from the eating good food made with love, the swimming in Worthley Pond, the game playing, and connecting with friends we see very rarely, to strike out in the car to town, one slow country spot or another. Often a farmer’s market. Sometimes a library.

The photo above is a display in the children’s room at the Paris Public Library. I love the gentle curve of this wall, how the picture books are arranged, bright flowers waiting to be plucked by children of all heights and abilities.

 

Librarytour: John D. Rockerfeller Library

05 Wednesday Oct 2011

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My cousin, a Brown University graduate, worked at the John D. Rockefeller Jr. Library as a student and so treated my mother, her mother, and me to tour behind the circulation desk and among the stacks. It wasn’t my first time in the library, one of my close friends from high school attended Brown and we once strolled through, visiting a desk assigned him where he’d spent many hours studying.

Some of my favorite Librarytour blog photos came from this run through the Rock, including this rainbow of book carts . . .

Gift Circle

03 Monday Oct 2011

Posted by in Green Life, Skillshare, With Friends

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We sit on the grass in the yard, our feet together, dinner a recent memory and frozen desert churning in the house. Trees above contemplate what to wear for fall and the mosquitoes dance down from short heights, not at all confused in their purpose. Over in the next yard, a man mows his lawn and sings. We smile at him and at one another. We listen.

This is the story of a gift circle taking place behind a house on a hill in Jamaica Plain. As one experienced in community building, in time banking, with some years of co-counseling and some hours of non-violent communication, as a true believer in invaluable intangibles, I’m not a stranger to the concept that all individuals have something valuable to contribute to their community. Yet, I remained receptive to surprise, excited to embark on a new path to connecting to the people in my community, friends and strangers and loves.

What are your needs? What are your gifts? What is your intention?

Following the format of the exercise, each person in turn answered whatever was true and pressing (and comfortable to share) to her or him, however concrete or abstract. Sometimes we called out agreement, sometimes we laughed or snapped our fingers to indicate that a need described was one we could happily fill. When the night grew late, we collected ourselves, each gifted with a new opportunity to give or receive.

Then we ate ice cream.

My needs shared that evening:

  • A clever way to wash a multitude of sweaters (my partner’s and mine) by hand
  • Help turning out the compost bin I share with my neighbor

Needs I hadn’t yet put to words:

  • Film camera lessons
  • New bike
  • Creative budgeting advice
  • Cat and plant sitting

My gifts:

  • Editing with a careful ear to the writer’s voice
  • Listening
  • Being fearless and yet polite
  • Being a companion for activities, even the potentially mundane
  • Organizing and planning

(Photo courtesy Ashley Clements 2011)

The Theater of Shopping

26 Monday Sep 2011

Posted by in Green Life

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Shopping

Scene: On Saturday I went to the mall and I was overwhelmed.

Never a mall rat, I grew up in New Jersey in the radius of four sizable shopping malls and any number of bookstores, toy/hobby stores, tackle shops, garden centers, and bakeries.  I know how to shop.

When I moved to Boston for college, my habits changed.  They had to, the only indoor malls I knew were the Copley and the Prudential, and Copley was far too pricey for my college non-income.  I started scouring sales in Downtown Crossing –an outdoor, cobblestone-lined district known for deep discounts at Filene’s Basement, for jewelry and diamond dealers, and, among my crowd of college-age women, for the sketchiness of male loiterers.

From Downtown Crossing I transferred my consumer dollars to the discount giants on Boylston Street and infrequent cheap-finds on Newbury Street; from Newbury to the thrift stores of Allston; from Allston to the independent gems in Jamaica Plain.  The most significant change to my habits however wasn’t where I shopped but whether I shopped.

Enter, stage left: the clothing swap.  Exit, stage right: browsing the retail offerings after work and on weekends, “Black Friday,” television ads, advertisements posing as magazines, blockbuster movies, and newspaper circulars.  Stage rear: a single spotlight illuminates the Ikea catalog, which has essentially become a fantasy novel in my house.

Scene: My partner and I drive into the many-story parking garage of Legacy Place in Dedham, MA.  Most of the spaces are taken, so we circle to the second level and I gaze out over the stores below, the cars below, the people below –the plastic, the paper, the hidden sewer and HVAC systems, the landscaping, the water flowing up into the many fixtures.  Even though Legacy Place appeals to me because of its mix of mainstream and local chain favorites, I feel overwhelmed by the all-encompassing everything.

It’s just . . . so much stuff.

Wrath On The (Bike) Path

21 Wednesday Sep 2011

Posted by in Bike Life

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IMG_5150Last night, at around 10:30 PM, I slowed my bike to a stop next to what appeared to be an unmarked police car with two officers inside, taking notes.

I asked: Are you cops on the path?
Police: Yes.
I said: Well, I just want to say thank you.
Officer behind the wheel: *big smile*
Officer in the passenger seat (marking in his notebook): Oh. You’re welcome.

Why the thank you?  Back at the beginning of the summer, I was attacked by children on exactly that stretch of path along the South West Corridor.  It was a terrible experience, being nearly knocked off my bike by two eggs.  Screaming in fear because I couldn’t make out what was happening to me.  Flipping my bike (luckily, I didn’t fall) in my haste to stop, stop, stop! 

I chased those children.  I wasn’t kidding.  And they scattered like marbles, like mercury.  I couldn’t even tell how many there were, and then they were gone.  Leaving just me and my fear and shame and frustration and anger.  Oh, and nearby, a couple of teenagers who watched the whole episode, seeming unaffected and also unwilling to rat out the children.

I called the police and waited half an hour for them to show.  When they did finally, they didn’t seem to care.  It even felt to me that they wanted to dissuade me from filing a report.  What happened to me just wasn’t serious enough, the offenders were just kids, there was nothing the officers could do at the moment besides patrol the path and away, the Boston Police didn’t have jurisdiction over the path, the State Police would need to be called in for that.

I’ve put a lot of thought into what happened to me.  Who the officers might be who looked at me from their car and decided I wasn’t hurt enough.  Who those kids might be, whom, after the attack taunted me from a safe distance and then ran.  To them, I’m just another angry woman on a bike.  Just a target.  But I’m not used to being a victim.  I’m used to first not presenting like a victim, and second, fighting back using whatever means available.

At the same time, one of the values I live by is: first, do no harm.  Another is to understand, look at as many sides of an issue as I’m aware of.  And last, proceed with caution.  Proceed with love.

So I take my opportunities whenever, however they arise.  If I see cops on the bike path, working to keep me safe, to keep other cyclists safe, to keep those kids safe, I thank them.