jwg

Here is a picture of my mom and her brother, Leonard taken in ~1909 on the beach in Far Rockaway, LI where the family often went for the summer.

The LJ icon is me at about the same age. I note that our heads are leaning at about the same angle.

As I've mentioned before, I'm not too good (or interested) in identifying birds by books. Yesterday while having cocktails on the porch, we saw a strange bird in a tree - it looked a bit like a young feathery duck but probably was something else. I went to check to see how old my bird books were. My Peterson (my mother's) is a 1947 and as we all know birds these days are completely different. Then I rummaged through this bookcase of old books and found this gem: Our Mountain Garden by Mrs. Theodore Thomas. It's copyright date is 1904!

Here is a bit of Chapter IX: Conclusion

And so I counsel all who have a bit of ground, be it small or large, to start thereon a garden, without waiting for horticultural knowledge or instruction. Begin as I did, with a wheelbarrow full of black-eyed Susans; you have no idea to what charming acquaintances the Susans will introduce you! And above all, I advise you to do the work yourself as far as your physical strength allows. Dig an plant, week and water, cultivate and prune, and haul your little cart of tools up hill and down dale, all wit your own hands. It is astonishing how weak muscles will strengthen, pale cheeks turn rosy, stiff joints grow limber, and clogged lungs open themselves again to deep breaths of fresh air. But I must own that one cannot do this sort of work in fine raiment All one's clothing must be loose and light and washable. I wear a short skirt of heavy gingham, an ordinary shirt-waist, calfskin shoes with broad soles and low heels, a shade hat, and gloves of my own invention, which are the only kind I have found which thoroughly protect the hands. ...

My mother followed this approach - it wasn't one of her first books since she started gardening in ~1951 and here is the sales slip that I found in the book. Although the slip says Fresno, Calif I suspect it was from used bookstore in downtown NYC and you do see that the address has been replaced.

Today is the 10th anniversary of the death of my mother. She was 92 at the time of her death. The cause of death was congestive heart failure, but all in all she was in pretty good health. She'd had several episodes of CHF during that year and her last trip to the hospital was about 2 weeks before. I was with her at the last time she was conscious that day - she had specified DNR, having always detested the idea of a long illness and often mentioned how fortunate my father was to die almost instantly from a massive heart attack. She was cremated the next day and her ashes tossed at sea by the Neptune Society (she having prearranged that) - these wishes were partly based upon the lots of family history about care of graves and visits to them. She had said that you are not really dead until your obituary appears in the New York Times, so I did that.

She lived alone in her manhattan apartment, walked with canes or a walker, and used Access-A-Ride (MTA van by appointment) to go distances of more than several blocks which she did a few times a week. Her apartment building had a nice garden between the two buildings and she hung around there a lot in good weather talking to friends.

She played Duplicate regularly and had played just a day or so before her last episode. I chose to hold her memorial service a few months later at the Manhattan Bridge Club, which was her regular place to play. I'd asked her how she wanted to handle this - she didn't want it in a temple, and when I suggested the bridge club she thought that was a great idea and the owner/director was fine with it.

She was a fine lady, a good mother and wife, and I really miss her.

( Some things I talked about at the service )