5/31/2016

Re-playing the Facebook Record of Our Week-end in PA


My daughter Karen and I have been in PA for a few days - taking a break from
the urban and enjoying the rural.

 I am finishing up a few projects this morning and then Karen and I are heading home. For this blog I am pulling together the snippets I wrote for FaceBook into the blog by taking a screen shot of each FB Post.

Doing this for several reasons:
* collecting the scraps of memories
* catching the thoughts and descriptions
     of the moment
* not wasting anything

Lately I have been paying attention to gathering together my work - to see what I have on hand that is worth keeping.

You know - quilting.

The pictures for the collage were collected while I was sitting on the front steps. Just looking around.





In the afternoon we took a spin up the road and stopped at a small favorited local diner for something
to eat. No disappointment here.



5/28/2016

Working on My Bucket List









It turns out my trip to California in June will have a lot to do with story gathering and making.

 A return visit to Yosemite National Park has been on my bucket-list for about 10 years.

 I was beyond awed when Jim took me to Yosemite for the first time in June of 1959. We went back every time we had time when we came for a visit. Jim's hometown, Madera, CA, is less than two hours away.

We had several Christmas visits later on. Then Jim's cancer interfered and four years ago Jim died. Since then I have only run into town to see the family on short visits.

But this year is a milestone year. I turn 80 in July. I have a Sharpie in hand to check off important Bucket List items - just in case.

When my daughter Robin called last week and suggested we go to Yosemite this time since we will be in Madera for the Famly Reunion my tears filled my eyes. "Yes". What a stroke of luck. Jimmy is attending the reunion too and he will come up to Yosemite with us. He was two years old when he was with Jim and me on the first trip.

I guess, since I was pregnant with Robin at the time, you could stretch it and say Robin was there too.

Why now? Robin knows I am working on my bucket list and assumed going to Yosemite would be high on the list.

We have also added another special moment in addition to going to the mountains. We will have dinner in Fresno with my dear friend Joyce Aiken the night before we go to Yosemite. She knows Robin and Jimmy - its like a smaller family reunion - that connects several parts of my life.

She and I worked together during the 1970s - for women artists and their issues. The surprising funny thing was  - she and Jim grew up in the same neighborhood and went to Fresno State College in the same Class.  Although she and I were a continent apart we were elected together to lead the new Coalition of Women's Art Organizations. Fate, right? I missed seeing her last December - not this time.

My friend Joyce told me today "the falls are full, Ellouise. They are particularly beautiful now."

I remember the day we were there for the first time. We sat on a very high rock formation with a great view of 
Bridal Veil Falls in the distance. I was so uneasy - scared really - of the heights, that I had such a tight
grip on Jimmy's arm it began to turn blue. Jim's teen-age sister Mary and her friend who were with us thought it was ridiculous for me to be afraid. Jim was surprised. Raised in the shadows of the Sierras he did not understand what a difference they would be for a NC girl who only knew the NC mountains near Asheville. My mother called them "the high mountains" but that day I knew she was mistaken. I experienced the grandeur of truly "high mountains" for the first time in Yosemite.

Not until 1970 did I see those mountains through the eyes of Ansel Adams in his photographs.

In many ways this trip will be a pilgrimage.




REUNIONS ARE WHERE STORIES LIVE











Looking forward to a week in California with my daughter and her family in June when I also will be going to the Schoettler family reunion. Our son Jimmy is also flying out for the gathering - in fact he booked onto my plane. 

In Madera at Tom and Ila Schoettler's home there will be a cacophony of sounds as there always is with lots of kids of all ages, loud conversations, and hugs - many hugs. And, just like at all family gatherings - there will be stories. Stories to catch up with what has happened during the past year for most  - - - longer than that for us. This is not my first trip to visit the family since Jim died but it will be the first time I have made it to the reunion.


When assembled this is a large bunch even though there are many missing now. I guess that evidence of the ebb and flow of life is also a familiar reality when families gather.


Jim always loved it when we made it out for the annual gathering.  Jim was the second of six, four brothers and two sisters. Jim's baby sister stands for his sibship now. Everyone realizes how lucky we are in having a special and well loved matriarch - who married Jim's uncle in the 1940s. She spans about 6 generations. I am counting on a visit with her with my sister-in-law who organizes things.and brings it all together at her home. The family is blessed o have her strong glue for keeping everyone together.








Most everyone was there for this shot in the 1980s - when the family gathered for Loretta Schoettler's 80th birthday. Those little ones are grown up now and today their children will be the little ones seated in front making --- even with the attritions it still a house-busting group - 

Hope you have reunion gatherings with family or friends in your plans this year. 










5/27/2016

#SPEAKINGOUT - about the Show-Off Debate











What's this -  More talk about the 
Trump and Sanders Debate.

I have a few words on that.

Entertaining is replacing campaigning and governing. 
Such a debate is usually for the two final nominees - so how 
do they explain a one-off debate between Trump and Sanders other than as The Grand Political Show-Off. 


Here is an idea - Trump will be playing to his strong suit - he tells you he does not know how to be a 
politician - but he does know entertaining.... 
now he is showing off. He has switched the playing field - and they have taken it out of the hands of the political parties -

It is a Rogue Debate and IMO a first step toward making it a Rogue election process.



Maybe its a JOKE - 

or is there an AGENDA afoot - and the debate will amuse and divert the public? 
while  - whoever they are is up to a new plan.

more will be revealed.

Elizabeth Warren Hillary Clinton 
‪#‎SPEAKINGOUT‬





SMILING IS OVER - or is this still the 1950s?

When I watched grown men who are supposed to be "political" leaders interrupt a Presidential Debate to measure their stuff I had queasy feelings and waves of discomfort for what was ahead.

Ahead has arrived for me - it is NOW.

Here is an article which was shared on Facebook this morning. The author, Charles Clymer, an Army Veteran, calls himself "proudly gender non-conforming." It is worth reading. I applaud him!

Last night when I heard about the "old white guy" trick of stepping around Hillary Clinton to have Bernie Sanders debate Donald Trump I felt sick to my stomach. That sounds like the set up for a show in a boys locker room.

But that was topped by Donald Trump when he stepped up and suggested that they use their debate to raise "millions of dollars'' for charity. Then to ice the cake Trump suggested breast cancer would be a good cause to receive the money.

Am I the only one who sees that as an insult to all women, although it was meant for Hillary Clinton? Does Donald Trump think we are so stupid we will be grateful for their largess if it is for breast cancer.  Listen,  family and friends I love dearly have and are battling breast cancer - but in my opinion Trump's suggestion to send the money from a self-serving, woman demeaning debate to cure breast cancer is a shrewd distraction... a way to garner support for what is actually a manipulation of the process.

I am sure others have seen right through that.

And what about Bernie Sanders and Jimmy Kimmel - since when is political strategy planned and played out on late night television. Our political process has been hi-jacked by entertainers - - who are most probably thinking about ratings.

And what about us - the public - what do we think about being manipulated this way?

We have indeed returned to the 1950s when women were trained to take insults with a smile and keep their mouths shut to hold back the screams.

Sisters,  I am afraid we are a majority that is being treated and dismissed like a rag-tag group that is blind and stupid.

Go get them Elizabeth Warren  - - -

Speak up Hillary!

5/26/2016

Reunions and stories bind families together



Looking forward to a week in California with my daughter and her family in June when I also will be going to the Schoettler family reunion. Our son Jimmy is also flying out for the gathering - in fact he booked onto my plane. 


In Madera at Tom and Ila Schoettler's home there will be a cacophony of sounds as there always is with lots of kids of all ages, loud conversations, and hugs - many hugs. And, just like at all family gatherings - there will be stories. Stories to catch up with what has happened during the past year for most  - - - longer than that for us. This is not my first trip to visit the family since Jim died but it will be the first time I have made it to the reunion.

When assembled this is a large bunch even though there are many missing now. I guess that evidence of the ebb and flow of life is also a familiar reality when families gather.

Jim always loved it when we made it out for the annual gathering.  Jim was the second of six, four brothers and two sisters. Jim's baby sister stands for his sibship now. Everyone realizes how lucky we are in having a special and well loved matriarch - who married Jim's uncle in the 1940s. She spans about 6 generations. I am counting on a visit with her with my sister-in-law who organizes things.and brings it all together at her home. The family is blessed o have her strong glue for keeping everyone together.



Most everyone was there for this shot in the 1980s - when the family gathered for Loretta Schoettler's 80th birthday. Those little ones are grown up now and today their children will be the little ones seated in front making --- even with the attritions it still a house-busting group - 


Hope you have reunion gatherings with family or friends in your plans this year. 


Tweet Tweet
When I am just out of words
I call up a bit of this and a bit of that
to tweet for me.

5/25/2016

Letters Are Forever Connections










Finding older blog posts that touch something for me.
I like looking back and remembering other days. And, right now my calendar and my to-do lists are full and pressuring. Something has to give on that front and I am working on it. For instance, today I followed the advice in a Michael Hyatt email and read this article by Jeff Goins . He reminds me that when I over-do-it on my calendar I am making a problem for myself. Hmmm.
In the meantime - this 2010 post reminds me of the joy and permanence of letter.

12/27/2010


Re-gifting - A Story in Letters



A Vintage Gift

Gave this to Jimmy for Christmas.

I filled Jimmy's Biology Box, circa 1970 -
with his letters from 1984, and 1985 - the first couple of years he and Monica lived in Germany.

They were married in January 1984
so many of the letters detail their settling in - both in Germany and together

Remember hand-written letters?

There are also letters from Monica
talking about her days, classes and
job search.


As well as plans Jimmy made for our trip over to visit them.
Its all the "stuff of life" - the things you forget.


No better way to hear the story of your life than from YOURSELF!




Now - what if I had thrown those letters away?

5/23/2016

Collecting Stories Often Finds Gold





This is a blog post from 2009.  There are many threads of memories for me in it but what I am passing it on for is the nurse's story. 


I love collecting unexpected stories that often fall in your lap from conversations with strangers.

12 - 09 - 2009

Wednesday - More Stories




Back at the chemo lab today for Jim's treatment. He has time to read the Washington Post from cover to cover and to complete short workshops to fulfill his annual CME credits.

And along the way - what do you know - I collect another story.

There was a new nurse on duty. She is warm, friendly and very talkative. As she set Jim up for his IV they discovered a connection with each other - her father also was a Psychiatrist; he worked in Brooklyn and was connected with Kings County Hospital - long before Jim interned there ofcourse but what a surprising small world connection. She told us more, "he was a doctor in Europe and when we escaped to the United States he switched to Psychiatry." They came to the US from Rumania when there was persecution of Jews and fear and oppression. She gave us an example: " I was very little and I heard my mother and father talking about something political that happened. My father said, ' it was probably about guns and gold." I held onto the words, guns and gold - I liked the sound of the words. When our maid came I pointed to a large chest and said,'Look at that - its filled with guns and gold.' Fortunately the woman knew my parents and realized it was just a child talking otherwise they could have been arrested.

While the nurse completed drawing Jim's blood she continued with another memory from Rumania.
" I had a dream when I was about 24- long after we left Rumania. I dreamed that I saw my father and mother at our old apartment. They were outside digging in the yard with a shovel. I heard a clink and they pulled a chest out of the hole. When they opened the chest I saw that it was filled with gold. Later I told my mother about the dream - expecting her to say it was "just a dream". Instead, she said, you probably did see us digging like that my dear - but we were burying the gold. We were hiding it not digging it up. That gold saved us. We used it to pay the man who made our passports so that we could leave the country."

Yesterday I heard a BBC radio interview with Welsh storyteller,David Ambrose. He was talking about folktales as conveyers of cultures especially when they are embellished with local place details. He went on to say that when he tells stories in a foreign land he feels he must tell a tale from his own culture - as represntative of his culture.

It occurred to me at the time that when-ever we tell a personal story we are also telling a story from our "land" - representing our personal culture.

Listening to the nurse's stories brought both ideas together for me.

5/17/2016

White Cliffs of Dover Memories



Another found memory.  I had completely forgotten that I had written a blog post about the first time I stood in front of a large audience. And that was not to talk - it was to sing a solo.

The day I started the First Grade my father left home for service in the US Air Corps in 1943.
I was fascinated by the troop convoys that rumbled down Seventh Street passing right in front of my house. When I heard those trucks approaching I ran into the house and came back wearing my over-seas cap that Daddy gave to me.





 When I was six years old a neighbor lady enjoyed hearing me sing my one song, Blue Birds Over the White Cliffs of Dover, the famous song of WWII. I loved that song. It was played frequently on the radio and I liked to sing along with it.

She asked my mother if she could take me downtown to audition for the Saturday morning young talent show which was broadcast on a local radio station.  Mama said yes and off we went.







Now, if anyone ever asks me, I will tell them that was my debut as a performer.






After that everytime I saw a picture of the White Cliffs of Dover 
I thought of the Visualite Theater and my first time on a stage.

In 1975 Jim put me on a train at Victoria Station in London. We had been in Great Britain for a delightful two weeks. Jim was returning home and I was going on to meet a friend in Paris. This was the part of the trip that was to be  my "seeing all the art" trip.

I was excited that I would also actually see the White Cliffs of Dover when I crossed the English Channel on the ferry from Dover to Calais.

It was a beautiful day with white clouds scudding across bright blue skies and a stiff wind stirring up white caps on a very choppy sea. 

We had barely lifted anchor and moved away from the dock when I felt my stomach begin to rise and fall with the waves. Would you believe it - I had no time to watch the gleaming White Cliffs slip away. Something else was taking all my attention. 

Very unglamourously I spent most of the trip sitting on a step outside the ladies room so that I would be close to a toilet in case I was over-come by mal-de-mer and began wretching.
Ah me. 
Not the way I had planned it - not at all.

5/15/2016

Oops. My bad!





Life is filled with missed treasure isn't it?  Do you write about your everyday small adventures - or wait - for something "big" to come along?

Here is an "ordinary day" I would have lost completely if I had not written about it eight years ago. I found this blog post earlier today and I am so grateful for it.

 I cannot remember the dream I had last nigh but I have a feeling it led me to trolling blog posts today - -  not just to savor the past but to remind me that I am not treasuring the days I have now.

Oops! My bad.

11/19/2008


Switching Roles - Listener to storyteller and vice versa

Today was a beautiful Fall day in Washington, DC. Sun shining, blue sky dotted with white clouds and an occasional splash of color on the trees.

In the spirit of the times Jim and I try to bundle our trips downtown these days. That explains why I was sitting in a Subway Sandwich Shop on K Street at 7:30 am this morning sipping diet Coke from a BIG cup filled with ice while Jim was at the doctor's office on the fourth floor of the office building next door.

I plugged in my Mac and established my space. 
I can understand why writers like J.K. Rowling write in coffee shops and maybe Subway Sandwich Shops. Itis not busy until lunch time and no body bothers you at all. Best, there is nothing else in that place that you have to do. No laundry near-by, or telephone calls, animals to let out, emails to write, business bits to take care of - nothing. What I can't understand is how those writers can write longhand on pads of paper. I like the tapping sound of keys under my fingers.

Later when Jim returned he had another cup of coffee and I refilled my Coke. Then we moved the car out of the very expensive K Street parking lot and found metered street parking near Dupont Circle. I was taking my turn as gallery sitter at Gallery 10 today and Jim was meeting a friend for lunch at the near-by Phillips Gallery. Sensible right?

In between we made Thanksgiving Dinner plans, shopping lists, caught up on the Washington Post, and talked. I like that last best. 
From our first blind date in Baltimore 54 years ago to today I love sitting and talking to Jim, about nothing or about something. We often talk about stories. Not just my storytelling but about family stories and our stories.

Actually, storytelling is key to Jim's business. As a doctor who is also a psychiatrist-psychoanalyst he listens as people tell their life stories so they can discover themselves. I have heard him introduce himself as a professional listener. He can't tell me any of those stories - they are all confidential - but I can tell you - he is one of the best listeners I have ever known. He not only listens to the story he hears the nuances that others miss.

But things are changing. Now he wants to tell another story - his. Often he tells me stories - new stories - about himself. What happened to him in the world he created where he worked. What happened in the neighborhood, with the people, and incidents on the street - you know, everyday stuff. The color and flavor of the stories he lived outside his office.

We swap roles - he talks and I listen.

A fair exchange.

Marriage.

5/13/2016

Messages from the Past -


Do you believe in "messages" from the past? I do. Its the mysterious part of working with history.

I have been writing this blog since 20005. From time to time I stroll back through old blog posts looking for a connection, a story, or something sweet to remember. 

I had forgotten about this letter my Grandmother Diggle wrote in 1918 and was startled when I read it last night. It is such is a strong connection to what I am absorbed with today. In fact the letter and what I later learned about her younger brother who died in France in 1918 may explain my fascination with WWI.  

Maybe there is something lurking here that I will be interested to find. Or perhaps "they" have something to tell me.

So - - - - I am pulling it back to the front so that I can think more about it as I wait to see what happens.


2/19/2008

Letter from the Past - Part 1

I love old letters, whether I know the people of not. The handwriting brings you close to the person who wrote it and often there is a story hidden in an old letter. I have several storytelling programs built around old letters.


A few weeks ago an old letter fell out of some files I was moving. I recognized my grandmother's strong cursive handwriting before I picked it up. The paper is yellowed, the creases where its folded threaten to tear. The envelope is addressed to her mother, Mrs. J. W. Cobb, at 703 South Church Street in Charlotte and the postmark - 

the letter bears a purple three cent stamp and is postmarked April 30, 1918. Mailed from Madison Square Station in New York City. It is written on hotel stationery - Hotel McAlpin, Broadway and 34th Street, New York City.


On a first read the letter doesn't say much but as I thought about it I wondered if there was a story in it. I often tell people to use old documents to make a story. So, what about trying it.

First I will share the letter with you - then I will add bits and pieces as I discover them to flesh out th story.

THE LETTER

Tuesday, April 29th
Dear Mama,
This won't be much of a letter because I am pretty tired, But I just want to tell you that think I am going to have "some trip." We arrived OK this morning, and I hadn't slept much on the train. I went to bed after a hot bath and slept until about one thirty. Sam spent the day at the office, so I crossed over to Macy's and spent quite a while looking 

II
around and shopping. Had dinner with Sam and then Uncle Fred and Florence came over to the hotel and took us out. We went to Vaudenville and then to a little place - a favorite of Uncle Fred's and had some beer and sandwiches. Believe me, it certainly tasted good. Florence is such a sweet girl. She has Friday evening off and she is coming to take me over to her house.

III
Cousin Nell called me this afternoon. She will be here about nine tomorrow morning and we will spend the day together.

Hope your finger is getting better and that the boys are not too much trouble. Won't write any more now as it is late. Everything here stirred up over Liberty Bonds. Hope to see the returned heroes from France before I leave.

IV
Tell Grandma not to worry about Uncle Fred. He looks grand and says he never felt better in his life.

Kiss the boys and tell them to be good. Much love to you all. Will save some news until I see you.

Lovingly,
Louise


First - Lets' consider the cast of characters:

Louise Cobb Diggle - the letter writer- my father's mother. At this time Louise was 32 years old, they had been married nine years and in that time she had given birth to six children and was now two months pregnant with her seventh child, who would be a daughter, Loretto. No doubt she needed a break.

Sam Diggle - her husband, father of all her children, was 31 years old.

Mrs. J. W. Cobb - Louise's mother, sister of Uncle Fred, was 59 years old. Her son Walter, Jr., 31, was in the Army and overseas in France along with his younger brother, Fritz, 23. Fritz was who was named for her brother, Fred - the Unlce Fred in Louise's letter

Uncle Fred Grose - Mrs. Cobb's younger brother who was 55 and had lived in New York City for some time.

Florence - his daughter
Cousin Nell - not sure who she is.

"the boys" - Lewis Diggle, age 7, Jack Diggle, Age 6 and Robert Diggle, age 4 - Robert is my father. The other children left behind in Charlotte were Mary Cobb, Catherine and year old Betty.

Grandma- Mrs. Samuel Grose - Louise's 83 year old grandmother and Mrs. Cobb's widowed mother.

One afternoon when I was about thirteen I was visiting Nanny at 826 Central Avenue, the house she and Sam build to house this large family. She reminisced about a wonderful trip they had made to New York. I listened vaguely, as a kid 13 would, but I do recall her saying that she had a new hat, a new Easter hat, with a wide brim.

Hoping for a new slice of history.



5/11/2016

A Story That Was Locked Up Was A Boney Surprise


What stories do you have locked inside because you haven't taken a look back?

Many of my stories come from letting my mind wander down the memory trail. When something turns up that I want to share with my family I keep it. Like this one for instance.

A few years back Jim and I took our grandson to visit the Army Medical Museum which then was housed on the campus of Walter Reed Hospital. Among the medical equipment and bones I found a story I had forgotten.



A Bit About Jim 

Jim and I met at Johns Hopkins Hospital. He was a second year student and I was a new nursing student.
Jim was very intense about his studies. Often our dates became "study" dates and we spent hours in a hospital library with Jim's nose in his books and me sometimes dozing.

Jim often helped me tackle difficult assignments. Learning all the bones of the skull was quite a challenge.
One night when Jim came to pick me up at Hampton House (the nurses residence) he was carrying a round package wrapped in newspaper. He offered it to me. "I think this will help you learn those bones." I took it.

I felt the round hardness of a skull in my hands. Jim had borrowed it for me. I swallowed hard. "Thank you." I took it to my room and left it while we went out.

When I returned later, after we had coffee,  I unwrapped the skull and stared at it. The sightless eye cavities above the gaping toothy mouth stared back. I set it on my desk and got into the bed with a book. Shortly, I turned out the light. I could still see the skull on the desk because of light from a streetlight outside. I turned away but I could not relax. I knew that skull was looking at me.

Finally I got up, picked up the skull and moved it to the closet. I set it on the floor and closed the door. I turned back toward my bed. Then hesitated, and - all right, all right - I did feel kind of stupid as I turned the key and locked the closet door.

That's where the skull stayed until I returned it to Jim.

5/10/2016

Connecting through Stories

This week fire swept through an area in Alberta, Canada burning homes and robbing people there of everything material they owned - including the precious objects they have saved and guarded for years - - the things we hold onto to keep connections alive across generations. When I see this on television news or hear it on the radio  Grief rolls over me and I cry. Until I remind myself - - -
OK - the stuff is gone but the stories aren't.  That's why I collect stories and protect them. I hope you do that too.

This is a piece I wrote during the time Hurricane Katrina robbed the people in New Orleans.

Pieces of Memory














I love "attic" museums.
Small places where they exhibit

the bits of peoples' lives.
Where the obscure becomes important.
Some would say

"all they have is trash."

Attics
Where you stumble across the forgotten
Kept because it was precious.

Southerners have an affinity for holding on -

To things.
We want the bits of history 

To tell us who our people were.
So we will know who we are.


We keep stuff - for generations.
A photograph, a piece of lace, a spoon, 
Books, oh, my yes, books
Letters, pens, linens, pots and pans.
And on, and on, and on.

We guard them.

They are us.
Our roots, our connections.

How can you know yourself
Without your stuff?

Today I add - 
You have your stories.

5/09/2016

FIVE TIPS - for using your iPhone for Personal Assistance

Rotary Dial Telephone
I can never resist a little back story.

Remember these telephones?

The Rotary Dial phone was the first one that fascinated me when I was a young child. It sat on the desk in the living room of the apartment where we lived when I was in the First Grade.

Actually - that phone hung around for years beyond the 1940s. In 1955 Jim and I had a phone like this in our first apartment when we got married.
Pushbutton Telephone

Slim Line  Telehone
I don't remember having  touch phone like this one until the 1960s.




I felt so stylish in the 1970s when we added several slimline phones.

Once the cell phone came out we had a progression of those from huge and clunky to a small flip phone that I held in the palm of my hand.

All those phones did was accept and send calls.

I have loved all of them -  then came the plethora of cell phones from the large and clunky to the small flip-phones you

But I never dreamed of ever having something in my hand like an Apple iPhone - did you?

I bought my first cell phone in 2007. I remember that it had a steep learning curve or probably more on the point I was intimidated by it. Anyway for more time than I want to admit I only used it as a telephone and to pick up email on the run.

Gradually I got smarter myself.  I learned to watch what people were doing with their phone, particularly my grand children.  Hmmm.

Well that technique paid off and today I often use it as a personal assistant.

Are you taking advantage of how the iPhone can give you a hand? Maybe you will want to know these 5 ways to get help from your smart phone.

HOW TO GET PERSONAL HELP FROM YOUR IPHONE
           FIVE TIPS
         
           1. Take a picture and remember later where you parked your car. I learned to do that after it
               took me an hour to find my car in a 7 story parking building.
       
           2. Record things you need to remember like medicines, printer ink ID numbers etc etc. so you
               have the information on hand if the question come up.
               Learned that on a blog by Michael Hyatt and it has been very helpful.     
               http://MichaelHyatt.com
             
               I also take pictures of things I want to check out, read later, or buy next time.
            
           3. MAPS on the iPhone is the GPS that takes me everywhere.
       
           4.  There are two important functions in the Clock app.
                  1.  The ALARM wakes me every morning and I set it to ring on the half-hour for several
                       hours if I have an early plane or an important appointment.
     
                   2. The TIMER is a big help when I am on a tight schedule to accomplish a task or leave
                        for a meeting.

                   3.  The TIMER is often set to remind me when to end a meeting, or phone conversation.
       
            5.  And lets not forget that adding a KINDLE app turns the iPhone into a library which is
                 great when you are traveling.
 
Do you have other ways you use the iPhone or a Smartphone to assist you?
                         
                       

         
         

5/08/2016

On Mothers Day: "Doctor Schoettler You Make Good Babies"











For Mother's Day 2016

One afternoon when Jim was a new intern at Kings County Hospital, Brooklyn, NY he asked me to bring Jimmy with me and come up to his medical ward. He wanted to show me where he was spending most of his time. Looking back I think he wanted to "show off" Jimmy, our nine month old son.

When  I walked up to the ward office there was an
    elderly woman standing just inside the door.  Jimmy looked past her and held out his arms to Jim.

   " Doctor Schoettler is this your boy?"
     Jim smiled and nodded as he reached over to take Jimmy from me.

   " Well Doctor Schoettler you make good babies."

    I like to think to of that when Mother's Day rolls around.
    We have three of those "good babies."
            and now they have good babies of their own.

    Life circles doesn't it?

 











5/07/2016

Light Pushing Through - Thinking About Branding

Behind Bars, collage, E.Schoettler


















About five years ago it seemed to me the air was filled with talk of "branding." I read articles about how important it is to find your niche and to create a brand. People talked about it by spreading words around like mayonnaise to slide their ideas your way.  I tried to understand what they were saying - but I did not really "get" it.

The truth is I did not want to be "caged in" by a niche.  I like to be free to change and try new things. I was interpreting finding a niche as limiting to myself and to my work.  I was not having any of that.

Last night I watched an internet video for the second time. The first time watching it I had a glimmer of what he meant.  He was talking about "How to Tell a Story"  - -  about how to use story to create your business brand. Last night when I watched it again light slipped through the cracks and I began to get it.

Using plain language, this guy was talking about clarifying how you talk about what you do --- what you are passionate about doing - - after you understand it yourself.

In my interpretation it goes like this:

Find out what really matters to me in storytelling ... i.e. the passion of it. Why am I doing it. This goes way, way beyond the stories I tell.

Understanding the "why" is the key to talking the "what" of what you do.

Okay - - I get that!

On that note,  I must have fallen asleep.

I dreamed of making art again.I woke up this morning remembering my dream  - about how I used to make collages -
one piece at a time.

It is a clue.