Tag Archives: children images

Stage 1 of Coming of Age in Mexico

Stage 1 of Coming of Age in Mexico: Yoli’s First Communion

Please click on the photos to enlarge them and to read captions.

 

Although I arrived ten minutes before Yoli’s first communion service began, Yolanda ( her mother and my housekeeper/friend of 18 years) and family must have arrived very early for they were in the second row of the church. Not willing to walk that long aisle and find there was no room left in their pew, I sat near the back, a choice I was grateful for once the incense dispersal started. Luckily, I was in an area between two open doors, so ventilation was better than it would have been trapped in the front where most of the action with the censer  was taking place. Nonetheless, I interrupted the mood with a few sneezes. The elderly lady next to me was shocked to discover I wasn’t a Catholic. Other than that, the service went smoothly except for the mother in front of me, who kept laying her daughter’s candle on the top of the pew in front of her. All three times, it was mistakenly knocked off to the floor when the woman sitting in that pew sat down again after rising for some part of the ritual. After the hour-long service, I took Yoli and her family out to Viva Mexico for lunch. Since the family of Juan Pablo’s girlfriend had three boys doing their first communion as well, they were invited to come along so our table grew from ten to eighteen, counting Luz Maria, age 6 months, whose mother Alejandra I counseled at a summer camp for children at these very tables five years ago. In case you are curious,  HERE are photos from that camp. Alejandra is the graceful dancer in Levis and camp T-shirt, second from the right. Time passes too quickly.The next time I show photos of Yoli in a long white dress and veil, she’ll probably be a bride!! Hopefully ten years or more from now.

San Juan Cosala Kids Art Camp

https://issuu.com/lakechapalasociety/docs/conecciones_agosto_2019_digitalI forgot to post photos of some of the kids enjoying the many activities at art camp two weeks ago. I taught earring and bracelet-making and egg-carton flower making. Useful skills in life. Here they are. Better late than never.

Click on any photo to enlarge all.

 


Go HERE to see an article I wrote about Operation Feed, the volunteer organization that sponsored this camp. The article is on pages 26 and 27, but when you slide the bar to get to the page, it will say it is 28. Miracles of the media.

At Play: NaPoWriMo 2018, Day 16

“Ring Around the Rosie” for my sister’s birthday & a backyard production of “Cowboys.”

At Play

“Annie I Over,” ” New Orleans.”
In shorts or dresses or cutoff jeans,
we ran and threw and played and shouted.
our pent-up energy thus outed.
“Send ‘Em,” “Ditch ‘Em,”  “Cops and Robbers.”
“Poor Pussy” turned us into sobbers.
Do you remember these childhood games?
All vastly varied, with different names?

Before TV or internet,
games were as good as one could get
for transport from reality.
Back when we were cellphone-free,
“Drop the Handkerchief” we knew well
along with “Farmer in the Dell.”
“London Bridge” went falling down
each birthday party in our town.

All the long-lit summer nights
“Cowboys and Indians” staged their fights.
“Cops and Robbers” led to searches
of school ditches and behind churches.
The whole town our playing ground,
each chid lost, each child found
in hours long games of “Hide-and-Seek.”
Count to one hundred.  Do not peek!

In childhood games of girls and boys,
imaginations were our toys.
Does such magic now reside
in minds of children safe inside
their cushioned worlds of rumpus rooms,
sealed safe within their  houses’ wombs?
For dangers real now lurk in places
that formerly hid playmates’ faces.

Safety dictates different measures
for insuring childhood pleasures.
But oh, I remember so well
joyful flight and heartful swell
of friends pursuing through the dark
back then when life was such a lark.
Now children seek  play differently
on cellphone screens and Smart TV,

scarce imagining a world
with internet not yet unfurled.
Our world had not yet been corrupted
with connections interrupted
with wireless servers on the blink,
for we needed no further link
than friends pounding upon our door
to come outside and play some more!

 

daily life color161 (1)Stylish cowboys Karen Bossart and sister Patti.

 

This is a rerun of a piece from two years ago.http://www.napowrimo.net/day-sixteen-5/

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24 thoughts on “At Play”

    1. lifelessonsPost author
      Me too. Why don’t adults ever play these games? I guess in Britain they used to…The one where one person would hide and when they were found, the person who found them would crowd in with them. More and more as the bame progressed until everyone was in one confined space with just one person left looking for them.

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      1. Karen Bossarts Rusthoven
        Oh, Judy! This was wonderful! Those were the days. What ever happened to childhood?
        Thanks for the memories! I’ll see you in September. Love you! Karen

        Liked by you

    1. lifelessonsPost author
      Did you play all of those? I’ve never met anyone else who played New Orleans. My sister and I were tryng to remember what happened after the “it” person droped the button into your hand. Wikipedia just says that everyone tries to guess who has it and the one who does then gets to be “it.” That doesnt sound very exciting, though. I thought there was some chasing involved, but perhaps I’m confusing it with “Drop the Handkerchief.” Charmingly naive names for these games, as were the rules. But what fun they were. In the winter, Fox fox Goose.

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  1. Venkatacharya
    Those were all wonderful days. I used to play many games that you mentioned above at my childhood during those years of 1950s and 60s. We miss all this happiness now.

    Liked by you

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      1. lifelessonsPost author
        Thanks, Mary. My poetry group doesn’t quite know what to make of my humorous rhymed stuff. They don’t want me to put any of it in our new anthology, which they say is intended for more “serious” poetry…But the rhymed humor cheers me up, too, when it decides to appear, so I keep welcoming it with open arms. I will describe Poor Pussy, Poor Pussy in a post.

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    1. lifelessonsPost author
      Thanks to sister Betty, at least for the first seven years of my life.Then I took over the role of family photographer, or Patti did when the photos were of me. I now take more photos in a week than we did in ten years back when it was a bit more work and a lot more money to get a photo.

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      1. lifelessonsPost author
        Is the story about the women in your family the 1500 word story you were talking about? I enjoyed it. Didn’t seem rambling. I’d enjoy knowing who the people were in the photos, though.

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  2. Mary Francis McNinch
    I longed for the simpler world, before Internet and real danger lurked. Tonight I cried. Cyberspace became a stranger, now I feel like a two faced jerk. Truly Judy.. I love the way you tell it like it is or was.

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The prompt: write a poem that prominently features the idea of play. It could be a poem about a sport or game, a poem about people who play (or are playing a game), or even a poem in the form of the rules for a sport or game that you’ve just made up 

Ellie, Ilsa and Elsie––Visitors

IMG_8028
— Ilsa, damp and determined.

This little girl is Ilsa, the daughter of Ellie, the young lady who comes to clean my rental house once a week. Last year Ilsa was very shy and either hid behind her mother  or sat in a corner playing with her phone whenever I tried to talk to her.  This year, however, at the mature age of 4, she is an affectionate chatterbox, following me around, chatting me up, smiling a lot, even before I gave her the red licorice that she seemed not to realize she could chew and swallow.  An hour after I gave it to her, she was still sucking on the end,, her lips stained with what looked like a very unskillful application of red lip gloss  Staying near.  When I heard her humming, I asked if she knew any songs.  She proceeded to sing a very involved song that lasted at least five minutes.  Either she was making it up or has an excellent memory.  It was in Spanish, so I didn’t follow it as my mind tunes out and I forget to listen closely enough to try to make out the lyrics.

Afterwards, we talked about cars and dogs and cats and crocodiles and I showed her photos of Morrie on my computer. Her mother called her in twice, telling her to let me work (on blogging) but each time she eventually came back out to stand near and smile and talk and smile and play cocoon with the hanging towels and sheets that hung all around me on lines strung across the porch. Finally, she wrapped herself in a damp-sheet hanging on the line near me and started singing the same three-word line over and over again.  I strained to hear it.  It sounded like “Hunta para siete,” so I Google translated, but got no answer.  She came close, touched my arm and continued to sing it, over and over.  When I asked her mom what it could mean, she had no idea.  Then, suddenly, I heard it correctly and with the correct spelling.  She was singing “Junta para siempre”—“Together forever.”  How sweet is that?

When she and her mom left, almost immediately, another  little girl walked up to the steps leading up from the sand and climbed up to my porch.  Fresh from the ocean, still in her suit, she dripped water from suit, hair and body.  In one hand she held a strand of long black hair, sucking on the tip.  

She is the little girl who last year had entered the house, poured four cups of dogfood into Morrie’s dish and locked him inside his cage with it.  She was also the little girl who would let him off his long lead every time she walked by the porch, freeing him to come play with her on the beach. When their play ceased, she left him to run free, with several potentially dangerous situations arising.  So, it became necessary for me to never put Morrie out on his own.  It was a very limiting plan–for me.  I ended up not going on any of the day excursions Tess and Rita and John planned because… I had to stay home with Morrie

I gave Elsie the sad news that Morrie wasn’t here this year and neglected, on purpose, to tell her I had a cat with me and she eventually climbed down the stairs and slipped away like the accomplished little cat burglar she is. No, I didn’t tell her I had a cat along with me this year.

Elsie, wet and wily.

Winded

daily life color213 (1)

Winded

When day five of camp has ended,
we find ourselves completely winded.
Yet in three hours we have to go
back to rehearse our ending show.

Then once more on Saturday
when, finally, we end the fray.
I’ll admit I’m an easy touch,
but still, today, I’ve had too much.

Although I love two kids or three,
thirty are too much for me.
But, it’s also true, I fear,
we’ll do it all again next year.

 

The Daily Post prompt today was Wind.

 

Camp Estrella, Day 4

Today was wild, with rain that caused huge waterfalls off the roof of the tent in the courtyard and caused squeals of joy from the kids, all huddled in the middle. First a visit by a dental assistant who talked about dental hygiene.  I had found little kits in the states with a toothbrush, toothpaste and toothbrush holder as a gift for each child. Lots of noise later as they made bracelets and earrings and then little decorated gift boxes in case they wanted to give them to grandmas or mothers.  Looked like most planned to keep them themselves. More dance, selection of whiskers for the dog and cat masks, a delicious lunch where, surprisingly, all of the kids at my table ate their vegetables first!!! Agustin thought he’d over extended himself when he bought two kilos (four pounds) of tortillas, but they all vanished.  Never underestimate the capacity for tortillas of any local!

Once the kids went home, I asked the Mexican counselors to stay to practice a poem I’d written for the parents.  We’re doing a show for them tomorrow, then another show on Saturday for the crowd at Agustin’s restaurant.  The other counselors drifted over to sit around the table with us, Agustin opened a few bottles of wine, and we had a great time trading knowledge of local slang and laughing over Audrey’s hilarious retorts.  I’d repeat them, but you had to be there.  I decided to have a party for all of the counselors, Agustin and the kitchen staff who have been feeding us.  Thursday’s the day and the menu is Mexican!  You’ll probably be invited along as well.

Here are my very few photos from today: Click on them to enlarge and read the captions.

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