flat stanley goes to new york city

Today I’m posting–with permission–a children’s book written by and illustrated by my younger daughter. It’s a new adventure about Flat Stanley. In case you’ve never heard of Flat Stanley, he’s a character created in a children’s book by Jeff Brown in 1964. The plot involves Stanley Lambchop and his younger brother Arthur who are given a big bulletin board by their Dad for displaying pictures and posters. He hangs it on the wall over Stanley’s bed.  During the night the board falls, flattening Stanley in his sleep, but Stanley survives and makes the best of his altered state. Soon he is entering locked rooms by sliding under the door, and playing with his younger brother by being used as a kite. Another special advantage is that Flat Stanley can now visit his friends inexpensively by being mailed in an envelope. He even helps catch some art museum thieves by posing as a painting on the wall. Eventually Arthur changes Stanley back to his normal shape with a bicycle pump. To facilitate easier reading in case the monitor you’re using is smaller, I’m duplicating the text inside brackets under each picture.

[Recently, Flat Stanley visited Queens and Manhattan, otherwise known as New York City! Stanley learned very quickly that many people in New York City do not own cars. Instead of driving, they take underground trains! They call their trains the "Subway." Stanley was a little nervous about taking the Subway at first, but he decided that he liked the idea of getting on a train and riding along with other people. He watched as people read, talked, played video games, and listened to music on their way into the city.]

[Stanley exited the train at a stop for Fifth Avenue and Madison Avenue. Then, because he was so deep underground, he had to take a very steep escalator to the surface!]

[Luckily, this station had a helpful map to show Stanley where he had arrived and where he could take the subway from here.]

[Stanley made it to the street! Are you curious about where he went next? Ah, here. Now you can see where he intended to visit in New York City: The MOMA. Can you see it in this distance up ahead?]

[Can you guess what the MOMA is from the picture? And what do you think MOMA means? Here is a hint. Each letter stands for something: M.O.M.A.]

If you guessed that Stanley was visiting an art museum, you were correct! And so, if you guessed that the first letter of M.O.M.A stood for “Museum,” and the last letter stood for “Art” you were also correct! The MOMA is New York City’s Museum of Modern Art. People who study art describe it as “Modern” if the objects were made after 1860. (It’s 2012 now; can you figure out how many years ago 1860 was?) Stanley learned a lot about Art on his visit. As you can see, the MOMA has different kinds of Art all over, on the floors and on the walls.]

[Some of the pieces are famous paintings. This one is by a man named Vincent Van Gogh. Do you know what it is called? If you don't what would you call if it you pained it?]

[Stanley was surprised these pictures by Andy Warhol are called "Art," because he recognized the people in them, Elvis Presley and Marilyn Monroe.]

[Flat Stanley was also surprised that this painting by Jackson Pollack was Art, since it looked like something you kids could make at school.]

[But wait! Are these examples of Art too? Stanley thought these objects were all kind of funny. He laughed a little bit when he saw them. But then he started to wonder if he understood Art.]

[Now, these pictures by Rousseau, Picasso, and Chagall, and Kahlo seemed a bit more like what he thought he would see at an Art museum.]

[Stanley was confused and wanted to get some air.  He found that MOMA had a lovely garden full of sculptures.  They were cool--but they made him wonder more about what Art was. He sat down and thought a bit about what he'd seen.]

[Each piece of Art was something that reminded him of the things he saw everyday, but they were also a bit different from the things he saw everyday. They made him think more about what he was looking at. He didn't always know how to describe how he felt or what he was thinking, but he liked that the Art made and feel and think.]

[After the museum, Stanley decided to see a few things nearby, including Radio City Music Hall. There are dance and music performances there. One day, Stanley hopes to see some of them.]

[Stanley's friend Vimala asked if he would like to go with her to the library to return a book. Stanley said yes, because he loved to read. He was very excited to go back on the subway and see on the map where they arrived compared to where they had been. Can you see how far they traveled by comparing this map to the earlier one?]

[Elmer Holmes Bobst Library - New York University]

[Stanley really enjoyed seeing the library at New York University. So many floors! Stanley especially liked to imagine that one day he will go to college and study Math. Or Science. Or maybe Art? Perhaps Literature?]

[After the library, Stanley went to the nearby park, Washington Square Park. There he saw a pretty arch and decided one day he might go to college to study Architecture, a subject that makes us see and think about buildings as both a kind of Art and a product of Science. In fact, New York had a lot of neat buildings! It would be a great place to study buildings and Art and all kinds of things that interested him.]

[Stanley went back down into the Subway and caught a train towards Queens, where his friend Vim lived. When they transferred from one train line to another, they saw a band playing in the station! So they stopped to listen for a bit. What do you think their song sounded like? Do you know what these instruments are? Stanley did, but he is pretty sure you do too, so he told me not to tell you.]

[Stanley ended his day where he started it, at 75th Avenue in Queens. What a loved day he had, looking at Art, thinking about what Art is, and then seeing everything around him as something like and unlike Art. He saw many people as he traveled and enjoyed thinking about what their lives were like in this very interesting city. He cannot wait to return to New York City...there is so much more he'd like to do!]

Flat Stanley loved New York City!

For more information on Flat Stanley, check back with Wintersong on Monday.

a zen story for marie

When is it okay to re-gift? I feel a little guilty passing along a book I’ve already read, but Courage Doesn’t Always Roar (by Maryanne Radmacher) was in a basket of “hope” given me by friends when I was in the middle of chemotherapy in 2010. Though it is technically “used,” its message is as valid  as when I first received it “brand new.” Procrastinator that I am, I’ve had it ready to mail to a friend in Las Vegas ever since we visited her in mid-March when we were there.  If there’s ever a time she’s needed courage, it’s now. So, re-gift guilt set aside, I’m mailing to her today.

Earlier this year Marie was diagnosed with cancer. When we visited her, she was in a good bit of pain, but had just undergone her first treatment. Having gone through that very difficult  period myself in 2010, I had a pretty good idea of all the uncertainty  she was going through. And yes, those other words that go along with it–fear and doubt–probably creeping in. I like to think it helped her a little to see me–a living example that  you can survive the treatment, and God willing cancer. Still, words are never adequate at times like these, so we all sat there together remembering old–and good–times. We were all relieved to see her wonderful wit and smile, and note that her giving loving nature was still quite intact. As we were leaving, we saw the old determined Marie rally enough to locate and tie two red-ribboned Feng Shui Good Luck Buddha Charms to my purse handles (which are still there)–one for me and one for Hubby.

On the long drive home, I made a pact with myself to keep in touch somehow, perhaps in the same ways she’s done over the years–cards on every occasion, with photographs and personal messages tucked inside–because I knew how much those things meant to me, those weekly phone calls, cards, and emails. Then the yard work began, the classes, the days helping out the grandchildren. Time zipped by. None of those reasons were ever good enough to excuse my procrastination, but those reasons plus my unwillingness to pick up the telephone (some sort of weird phone phobia I guess) got in the way. One problem too was the thing that grips any of us when we don’t know quite what to say, or how to say it. I grew up with that axiom the road to hell is paved with good intentions but there it is.

There’s a long road ahead for Marie and all of us who have had to face that long valley of shadows. After two years of followup scans if nothing bad shows up, it’s statistically less likely you’re going to develop a “crossover” cancer influenced by the toxic cancer drugs themselves.  No guarantees, but the doctors breathe a little easier, and the odds are more favorably stacked on your side. So the closer you get to five years, the better. Recently we heard through a mutual friend that Marie has been doing well. But the book about courage still lies on my desk inside a padded manilla envelope, ready for mailing.

So today I had an idea. Suppose I write about it in a blogpost. Sometimes, when I have trouble saying what I’m feeling, it’s easier to tell it in a story. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll send her a story that I like to remember, a ZEN story that I always think about when I’m facing one of those six-month followup scans, when the doubt begins to creep in and I’m afraid my luck–if that’s what it is–may be running out.

A long time ago, there was a Monk being chased by a tiger. He is so frightened and tired, but he can’t stop running or the tiger will surely catch up with him. Soon he sees the edge of a cliff coming up. Just as the tiger is about to close in on him, he  notices a vine trailing over the edge. He quickly crawls over the edge and begins to carefully let himself down the vine, little by little. Just as he’s beginning to feel safe again, he looks down to see how far is left, and sees another tiger waiting for him below. As he looks up again, he notices a mouse gnawing away at the vine. At first he feels such despair, what point is there in going on? Then he spots a luscious looking red strawberry just within arm’s length. It looks so delicious he reaches out,  grabs it and eats it.

I hope this story I pass along to her through this blogpost will remind her that–while there may be terrible things behind and before us, complicated by vexing everyday annoyances like that little mouse, we all need to keep our eyes open for that strawberry. I hope Marie knows that we think of her every day, even though we’re not very good at day to day correspondence.

when I’m an old woman I shall wear purple

So much has been going on I hardly know where to start. Last Friday the hubby disappeared–he does that a lot since it must be a great challenge to live with an older woman (he’s exactly 10 months younger, you see).    I was in the office because there had been a telephone call a few moments before that I expected Hubby would answer, as I was sure he knew I was busy catching up on my ironing in the bedroom. But he didn’t. After four rings, the answering service picks up. I wondered why he hadn’t answered–so I went looking for him, deciding first to check to see if the missed call had been important or if there was a message. The doorbell rang. I waited a moment for Hubby to appear because I was still in my pajamas even though it was nearing 11:00. Then it rang again, this time more urgently.

What to do? First I called out to Hubby. No answer. Where was that man this time? I can see the front stoop from my office window, so I glanced out and saw the back of a young man’s head, but I could tell from the voices there was at least one other person with him. My first thought was missionaries. Or Jehovah’s witness.  Now I have nothing against either group, but I was so behind on seasonal switching out chores I truly didn’t have time to chat. The doorbell chimed again, then the banging began. I started to the bedroom to find a robe, but when I saw the heavy winter fuzzy hanging there, I thought it would look sillier than the white tee-shirt with blue fish (yes, the very one I was forced to wear in Edinburgh in September when the heat wave hit) and the blue plaid pajama bottoms I had on.

I was so rattled, maybe startled is a better word, as I opened the door and saw the black haired young man was Ben, my NY daughter’s Significant Other, and two women. Time seemed to stop! What in heaven’s name was Ben doing here? It was when shouts of “Happy Birthday” or “Surprise” or something like that it hit me! The next day I would be having a significant birthday–the big seven and O! Hubby has always said that’s an important birthday in India, but he usually had such trouble keeping secrets and he gets so excited that I always know something’s afoot. I’d already figured out that he and the daughter who lives down the street were possibly planning something bigger than the usual dinner and cake she usually prepared. I even told him please don’t throw a surprise party or making a big deal out of it. Particularly this one! His answer was Don’t worry. You know we aren’t party people! Suddenly Hubby appears out of nowhere, and chores and everything else were forgotten. For this birthday and Mother’s Day, the whole family would be here; they’d all been planning it for months! It was the first time I ever remember being totally taken by surprise in almost my whole life.

Of course everyone came bearing gifts–themselves for the festivities (dinner out at our favorite Indian restaurant that evening and dinner with favorite cake at daughter’s house onn Saturday), books, a new linen blouse, and lime green sandals with such pizazz I’ve hardly taken them off my feet since. I am one hot mama–or grandmama–as the case may be! I’m planning to post a picture of my feet in the new shoes just as soon as I can get to the store and buy some nail polish and paint my toenails! Crimson or Cerise. Or how about Hot pink?

As for birthdays, I think 70 is a good time to start getting funky. You probably remember the book and cards from the 70s, so you know the drill. When I’m an old woman I shall wear purple! I’ve even begun to plan a new color scheme for the big room of our house that we plan to have repainted next year. One purple accent wall–with a natural gray or light charcoal walls all around with white wooden trim! (Let’s see if I still have the gut nerve next year when the time comes!) I got the idea from the new Community Center (gym, library, cafe) that opened in our township just a few weeks ago. Just in case it’s clear what that artwork is made of, here’s a close-up:

As for birthdays, especially the really really big ones, I think 70 is a good time to start counting backwards. Next year I’m going to be 69. Again. And I’m really looking forward to 21!