Children of the generations

Last Month Camillo, Patty, Marissa and I were in Adrian, Michigan for Mom’s 90th birthday.  Of my generation, Mom’s seven children, five were there.  My oldest sister Connie and the youngest Nancy were not able to come, and none of their children or grandchildren were there.  With two branches of the family missing, we still managed to have over 40 family members to enjoy a weekend with several casual dinners, and one formal with the cake and happy birthday song. 

Connie’s family, with her 3 children and grand-children and I am sure Great- Grandchildren – having any of those come and join us would have given Mom some of her children, some of the grandchildren a few of her great-grandchildren and a sample of Mom’s Great-Great Grandchildren….. wouldn’t that have been something.  I won’t be sad that that opportunity was missed just will say that for those that were able to make the party it was a wonderful celebration.  (The picture above: Mom, Uncle Ralph, the middle sisters – Judy, Candy and Ginger, baby brothers – Dave and Harry.  You can see that as usual I was not paying attention.  Mom will tell you that talking is one of my talents – paying attention is not.)

There was one cousin, of my generation, and one of my father’s brothers; my gosh - I was in high school the last time I saw these two.  Time just keep moving along.  Mom and Uncle Ralph the only remaining from their generation; the last of our family that lived through the great depression and WWII. 

Mom and Uncle Ralph with about half of her grandkids and a small fraction of the great-grandkids.  I do wish the rest could have been there, then we would have had to rent bleachers to get everyone in the photo.

Many of these children had not met each other until that luncheon.  Children understand ‘family’ and were immediately best friends.  (My two are in the middle of the back row)  For adults it is harder to make instant connection but by the end of the time together were talking, well like family. 

 

 

  All the cousins – second cousins - Mom’s great-grandkids getting ready for the cake and singing happy birthday. 

     

 

and finally the future generation’s family photographer.

looking for a bridge -

“The hardest thing in life to learn is which bridge to cross and which to burn.”   David Russell

A bridge too far – water under the bridge - the bridge of the nose – a connection between two points or bridging your differences – A bridge is an often used metaphor expressing our need to move forward, to connect,  to change.  So why couldn’t I find a photos of a bridge, any type of bridge in Rio; the land of water flowing, and people walking, crossing, going and getting somewhere.  Let me back up, I do see walkways and crossings everyday, why can’t I find a beauty, graceful, curving, colored lights, aesthetically pleasing bridge to take a most spectacular photos of.

We do have the 13 km bridge (high causeway) that links Rio to Niteroi and beyond, taking the 101 north.    I’ve posted some photos of it before.  It is a much needed bridge, functional, a getting the job done bridge but I wouldn’t call it a beauty.  Maybe this is the issue, a reflection of the culture here, the building with functionality versus aesthetics.  The outside of homes being simple and straightforward, functional not often aesthetically pleasing.  I often wonder if it is more expensive to build something of beauty than something that is stark and plain….. sorry side-tracked…..

Bridges, being in Rio this weekend I hoped for an opportunity to find a new, not photographed or posted before, bridge.  A walk around the Lagoa netted me 6 photos – a pedestrian walkway the is the start (the finish even) of the canal that drains the Lagoa into the sea.  Beautiful no, interesting story maybe.

functional – getting us walkers were we need to go – safely and with dry feet.  One end offering someone a dry home away from home.

the protected pool of water, waiting to flow to the sea, offering food and leisure entertainment to the locals.

    

and next to it a way across the water to a private space.  (a ferry does bridge the gap between land and island.) 

Colors – this time of year are hard to find.

This time of year, the equivalent of the end of January in the Northern Hemisphere, is drab and dreary in the Nova Friburgo area.  The weather has been cold and wet, and now that the sun is shining it has been very dry.  Our tropical forest is in between blooming cycles, no flowering trees and the pines that surround the house are loosing their dry, brown needles.  Downtown the stores still have winter drab in their windows; browns, grays, and dark greens.  Yuck!    No new summer dresses in bright cheerful colors, no shoes to match.

My adjustment period, after returning from summer time in Houston and Adrian, is being hampered by all this drabness.  In Houston the storefronts were blinding in their colors. Shoes and shirts, dresses and household things, all in bright oranges and blues, greens and red, and displayed in groups of contrasting and complimentary colors.  All intended to catch your eyes, and help open your wallet…..

Oh how I am missing the shopping, the colors but mostly missing the family.

     

OOPS what happened to her dress? Changing out to new fall styles and colors – and forgot the 360’ view.

   And finally, from Nova Friburgo I spotted some complementary colors.

Nova Friburgo’s Newest Monument

I left the house early this morning to take Camillo to the bus station.  He is making another trip to Macae and I, well I selfishly didn’t want to go.  I just got back here and wanted to stay put.  After dropping him off, I drove on into Nova Friburgo and parked at the Praça do Suspiro.  This is on the opposite side of downtown from my gym class but I wanted to show you some of the progress that has been made since the January 2011 mudslides.  I had taken photos before and to tell the truth couldn’t find them in my archives.  I have been doing and awful job of keeping up with things.   

I found among the large signs touting the engineers, and planners, and the declarations of how much money was being spent trying to stabilize this area of town, a new monument to those  nearly 1000 victims, in Nova Friburgo alone, that lost their lives in the early morning hours of January 12, 2011.  There have been improvements, you can’t imagine how bad it was (See the Feb. 2, 2011 post) nor how complicated it must be to try and fix this area.  But this monument gave me a feeling of hope, a large lump formed in my chest and has not gone away.

A city remembering that night and its losses before all can be covered up and forgotten.

  

 

One photo worth a thousand words…

Today from Houston, TX

life on the local pond