On Being an Aunt

I have been many things in my life, gorilla keeper, conservationist, photographer,………but perhaps the one title I cherish most is being an Aunt. Today my family celebrates the 28^th birthday of my niece, the oldest of the bunch. My nieces and nephews range in age from 28 down to 13, each of them unique, charming and lovely in their own way. They are an interesting and diverse crew, one  is  an amazing photographer and a traveler, her brother an avid snowboarder is spending this winter out in Colorado doing what he loves best.  A nephew is finishing up his final year of college while another has just started that journey. One kid still in high school is taking college courses, works and plays HS football. One niece is so hysterically funny and disarming she keeps the whole family in stitches. Some play soccer, some softball, some ride horses. They all have a love for cooking and one of my favorite things to do is spend the day baking with them, one nephew is a budding chef.  All the girls seem to share a love of cozy space - making your room your own signature space. The youngest has just discovered the joys of gardening - and she too is a photographer.  I have been most fortunate that I have sister-in-laws all of whom have shared their amazing kids with me.

But it is the eldest, the one I have known the longest who this blog is for. I remember the day your mother told me she was pregnant with you, standing in Grandma and Grandpa’s kitchen - how thrilled all of us were, each of us so looking forward to meeting you. In your early twenty’s you lived for a year in Korea teaching English to little kids - you are an adventurer. Now in addition to working full-time you are working on your Master’s degree - since a little girl you have always been a hard worker. This last year you were married and what a joy it was for all of us to be there to witness your happiness. When you come to town, there is nothing more I enjoy than sitting in my living room chatting late into the night with you. You have inspired me with your wisdom, your ability to be thankful for the daily blessing we each have - how did you figure that out at such a young age - took me decades. What a lucky Auntie I am indeed to know such a person as you.

Simple Things - Thankful Things

I'm thankful for.....

• My Grandmother’s cookbook on my kitchen counter 
• Good food
• My garden in the morning
• Evening shadows on the ornamental grass in the front yard
• My stink-bomb-jones dog, who is starting to get old, and doesn’t want to go on as many walks
• My niece’s who hang a lot at their Auntie’s house
• My nephew who called me for a ride today and we talked about everything and nothing while driving to his job
• A nice period piece on PBS on Sunday nights - Downton Abbey
• Fresh flowers in the house
• A stranger today who helped me move a snapping turtle off a busy road into a pond
• A side table with flowers and a favorite book
• My funny Aunt Jill who sent me a letter today
• My dad and his sister Jill's smart-ass sense of humor
• A really good book: Just finished The Dovekeepers by Alice Hoffman; currently reading The Tiger’s Wife by Tea Obreht and A Radiant Life by Nuala O’Faolain
• My sister-in-law for sending me a book by Nuala O’Faolain My Dream of You - How did I not know of this writer?
• Looking forward to reading a book - Running the Rift by Naomi Benaron 
• And for Lisa who talked me into taking that blog class
  

Churches

Here's an unusual occurrence - I went to Mass today. Truth be told my brothers and I were raised Catholic and as such we spent our youth going to Sunday Mass and attending Catholic school. After school we were told horror stories by the older kids about what happened to people who dared to touch the holy Host. Back then getting a communion host stuck to the roof of your mouth was cause for alarm, being petrified that you might unthinkingly and reflexively try to pry it off with your finger - and then die before confessing this terrible sin was pretty spooky stuff - yep, nothing like scaring the crap out of kids to keep them in line. 

Even at a young age I never could truly buy into - or maybe I give myself too much credit, maybe I just wasn’t paying attention - the stories being told. Mary and her husband Joseph  - interesting story that - a bit more complicated than we were ever given to believe. Joseph doesn’t get nearly enough credit for his forbearance and his love and protection of his step-child. I don’t remember the priest giving any rousing sermons about the fact that Jesus was a rebel, or focusing on the most basic aspect of his personality that he was in the end just a good guy, a kind man,  I don’t recall the church encouraging us children to question and to embrace being different - as Jesus was. 

I was a dreamer given to spending my time in church gazing at the stained glass windows - the brilliant cobalt blues, deep greens, the textured browns of the gowns of Mary, Jesus and their saintly friends. The traditional medieval architecture was another distraction.Checking out the kinds of hats  the women were wearing especially at Easter was something to do. To make the time pass more quickly we counted the number of children lined up for Communion from individual families just to see who had the most. Our kind and gentle family doctor had a whopping 17 children while we, the Armstrong’s were a bit of a disappointment being on the low end with only 4. All these things were welcome diversions before feeling that enormous sense of relief once Mass was over and you could run home to get on with the business of just being a kid.  

But what I did love most were the rituals both from church and school- the tartan school uniforms, brand new beanie caps, school book covers made of brown paper bags, the smell of incense during the Stations of the Cross, the altar decorated at Christmas with laurels of pine (another lovely smell) and live poinsettias, the ash cross we wore so proudly on our foreheads on Ash Wednesday refusing to wash off until the next day, or picking your own confirmation name.  

Maybe I was a little dodgy on the actual belief scale but I do think rituals have provided a comfort and a touchstone to go back to. Nowadays I say Hail Mary's when I need to get a grip on some stress or other in my life. Still one of my favorite things to do is to go to my childhood church when no one is around just to sit in the quiet and breathe in the smells from my childhood….. fixated on the light illuminating their burnished windows.

I make a habit of going to churches when in other cities.  The photos of stained glass windows are from United Methodist Church in St. Petersburg Florida.

Gorilla Keepers

In 1982 I was hired into the Ape House as a gorilla-keeper by then head-keeper Diana Frisch. It was the dream of a lifetime and I will forever be in her debt for taking a chance on me. Let me tell you a story about a gorilla that we both worked with.

Mac had a sweet nature, extremely laid back. His eyesight was a bit iffy and he had a tendency to glance at you from the side, peering as if trying to focus.  Early on I learned just how laid back he was. He was very particular in which order he received his food in the morning preferring his celery sticks before his lettuce. I made the huge mistake once of doing the opposite, giving him the lettuce first.  Mac grabbed my arm pulled it through the cage bars, held it while he looked intently at me and then let go. He could have easily inflicted a bite wound or broken my arm but he made his point and was satisfied. I never made that mistake again.

In 1984, during renovations of the existing Ape House, Mac was housed at the old zoo hospital. As we could transfer him from one cage to another (something we were not able to do in the Ape House, hence the renovation) we were able to give hay as bedding - which could be removed later during cleaning. One day Diana called me on the walkie-talkie asking me to come down to the hospital. As I entered she motioned for me to come closer but to remain quiet. Gorillas have a wide array of vocalizations to communicate with one another, in the past Mac did his usual greeting vocalization to us but rarely anything else. Diana had given Mac about a 1/3 of a bale of hay, he was so engrossed in making a nest that he was oblivious to us. As I drew closer to his cage I heard soft uninterrupted rumbling  vocalizations as if he were having a conversation with himself as he created a beautiful circular nest, with high walls and a cozy deep center. Every few minutes he would step into the nest as if to ascertain the shape and height, then step out and make adjustments, adding to, shaking out and fluffing up his hay - all the time talking to himself. He had not had bedding material since taken from the forests of west Africa 30 plus years prior. 

Mac was transformed, absorbed in the work at hand seemingly transported back to his African home. He was doing what all gorillas will do when given the proper materials, make a proper sleeping nest. By the time it was finished it was truly a masterpiece - perfect in every way. Both Diana and I  were humbled at having witnessed such a transformation as well as being a bit teary-eyed as we left Mac to his memories. 

Mac died a few years after the nest building episode. Diana passed away a little over a week ago. She was part of a 4-member keeper team at the Columbus Zoo in the 1980’s that forever changed the way we perceive gorillas, the way we house and treat them, the way we value them just for being the remarkable creatures that they are.  Diana, say hello to Mac for me when you see him …….

Imagination

My nieces spend a lot of time at my house. I don’t have an x-box, video games, or even now a computer as the desktop died recently. But we do have board games (Clue, Life, Monopoly), jigsaw puzzles, lots of decks of cards, books and movies. When the girls were 7 and 8 I bought a dollhouse kit and spent Christmas Eve putting it together for them. Since then I purchased a second larger one (already assembled) which is the one they have in their bedroom at my house. We use dogs and cats rather than dolls - we agreed that the dolls sort of creeped us out a bit. They are now 13 and 14 respectively and they still mess around with that doll house. I found them in there just the other day meticulously arranging the rooms to absolute perfection.(see photos to the right)

Yesterday I went to the doll house store to have a look-see.  They have a wide array of doll houses, both assembled as well as do -it-yourself kits, loads of teeny-tiny furniture, and all the other bits and pieces needed to create another universe. I started talking to a mother and her daughter while there, the daughter in the process of buying her very first doll house, She already creates little scenes using doll house furniture but as yet does not have an actual house. Got the impression she was doing the buying - good for her. As we were talking, I found out she’s a big reader and loves to bake - shades of me at that age. It was a treat talking to a kid who revels in using her imagination - and good for her Mom for supporting it.

Sometimes when my nieces have left to go back home, I walk by their room catch the doll house out of the corner of my eye in a somewhat disheveled state and am compelled to stop what I’m doing, grab a chair, sit myself down to rearrange a whole new world.