Category Archives: Memories

Mr. Tumnus and me

Memories, Obsessions, Things, , ,
4 black and white images of me holding Mr. Tumnus
Mr. Tumnus and me.

Back, a very long time ago, I enjoyed shopping at K-mart. Our family would drive to the K-mart either on the East side of Elgin, or another local K-mart — perhaps one in Meadowdale, if there was one there. Anyway, my memories of shopping with my parents at K-mart are all pleasant. We’d usually stop at the deli and pick up a sub-sandwich. I liked the ham they put in their sandwiches, and remember the bread being tasty. I even liked the raw onions and processed orange cheese they put in the sandwiches.

I didn’t often buy anything with my own money on these shopping trips, but remember one purchase when I was in my late teens. I remember walking along one of the main aisles — the area where they kept their seasonal specials — and stopping, mouth in an “o” shape, eyes wide, possibly making an ahhhhhhhh! sound of pure joy. I saw a display full of 16 or so inch bronze-colored ceramic fauns at the low, low price of $20. It may not have been a blue-light special, but it was something I could not live without. I picked one up, hugged it and placed it gently in our shopping cart.

“It’s Mr. Tumnus!” I announced to my family. “From Narnia. And I am buying him!”

Because my parents knew about my obsession with The Chronicles of Narnia, they did not try to talk me out of buying the statue. And I don’t know if it was then and there that my dad came up with his nickname for the statue, but I can just imagine him telling the check-out clerk that his daughter just had to have Mr. Numbnuts. (I do remember Dad calling the statue “Mr. Numbnuts” when he was helping us pack up my Elgin apartment for the move to Pittsburgh.)

Mr. Tumnus traveled with me from my parents house to my first apartment, to Pittsburgh, to two houses in Alexandria, then finally to his last home, Bethesda. He stood in the gardens of several of those homes, but  because he was not made out of weatherproof material, he eventually disintegrated into a white powder. He was too far gone by the time we moved to Bethesda to stand next to the gas lamppost in our front yard.

For years I looked for a similar, more weatherproof, version of Mr. Tumnus, but never found one I could afford or one that looked like my Mr. Tumnus. I no longer plan to replace Mr. Tumnus — that obsession has gone, but I cannot help looking for Mr. Tumnus when we visit garden stores or pass places that carry statues.

I thought I’d never see him again until I opened an old book I found at my mom’s a few years ago and found a photo booth set of photos of me and Mr. Tumnus. (Likely taken at K-mart the day I found him.) He’s over there, to your left — with a long-haired pig-tailed youngster that used to be me.

 

Remembering George Brett

Death, Memories, People, , ,

When I was in graduate school at the George Washington University I joined an online group called Brainstorms (which has nothing to do with GWU). Because there were a fair number of Brainstorms members from the DC area, we decided, in 1999, to have a get together.  Dean and I hired a babysitter and drove to Adam’s house in Falls Church. There were probably 6 or 7 Brainstorms members there and a few spouses. A few things I remember from that night:

  • Chicken sausages could taste really good
  • Falls Church is cool at night
  • George Brett was a great listener
  • Lemony Snickett books could save my kids
Meeting George
George is on the right (photo borrowed from Glen — who is on the far left). This is the night I met George.

On our walk around Falls Church, George asked me about my degree program and what I wanted to do with my upcoming degree in educational technology leadership. I told him that I really wanted to help create online learning environments that involved virtual chatrooms — online spaces where students could interact with subject matter experts. For instance, if someone were learning about Shakespeare, they’d “talk” to an avatar that looked like “the Bard” in an environment that simulated England of the late 16th and early 17th centuries. George didn’t laugh at my dream. He thought it was a great idea and offered ideas.

George, Rupert, GeoDuckie and the POTUS
George, Rupert, GeoDuckie and the POTUS

I saw George a number of times after that, at various Brainstorms functions. The last time I saw George was in 2009 at our Inaugural Ball (where he wore a kilt and his signature bow tie). We interacted online a lot, though. First on Brainstorms, then on Facebook. Several years ago when I asked for suggestions for places to go for a romantic weekend, George emailed me and invited us to stay at his lovely cabin in Wintergreen, VA. We had a wonderful time.

Once, on Facebook, I asked my FB friends to recommend pillows. Shortly after I pressed “enter” the phone rang. It was George telling me that he and Sally were on their way back from Bed, Bath and Beyond where he found the perfect pillows — Laura Ashley. He knew they were perfect because he tried them out, right on the floor of Bed, Bath and Beyond.

The last time I spoke to George, he and Sally were celebrating their wedding anniversary in Florida. He called me, asking if it was me who needed a job reference or something. Typical George — he didn’t want to leave it until he returned to Virginia and took time out of his anniversary vacation to ask. I’d not asked him, but was grateful that he was calling to make sure. I assume he went through his address book until he found the right person.

George died earlier this month — in fact, the same day Sandy died. His memorial service will take place in about three hours. I’ll be headed back to Falls Church — not to meet George or visit with him in his apartment, but to say farewell to him. To be in a church where people from many areas of his life will be gathered to say goodbye to a remarkable man.

George was a thoughtful, kind, gentle man. In all the time I knew him — online and off — he never, to my knowledge, uttered (or wrote) an unkind word about anyone. He left us far too soon. The world is a better place because he was in it, but his passing has left a void in the lives of everyone that knew him.

A Tale of Two Owls

Memories

Owl #1

One warm July night twenty-three years ago my husband woke me from a deep sleep telling me I had to get out of bed and walk up the street with him. It was almost midnight. He’d gone for a late-night walk, probably contemplating the enormous change that was going to happen within a few weeks when he would become a father. I told him I didn’t want to go for a walk. I was tired. I just wanted to sleep. He insisted I get up and go with him and said I’d be glad he woke me up but I had to hurry.

So I dragged my heavily pregnant body out of the comfort of my bed, put on a pair of shoes and followed him out the door and up the street. We walked about half a block when he turned into a driveway. I said he was crazy — we didn’t know these people and now we were going to trespass on their property? He didn’t listen and walked further up the driveway.  Then he stopped and pointed. I looked in the direction of where he was pointing and didn’t see anything at first, but then I saw what he was pointing at. It was an owl sitting on a fence post.

I’d only ever seen one or two owls in my lifetime before this one and was indeed glad he woke me up to see the owl. We continued staring at it, wondering why it was in this neighbor’s yard. Then I understood. It was a plastic owl nailed to a fence post to keep other birds away.

I could have thanked my husband and gone back to bed, but I was 8 and a half months’ pregnant and he’d just awoken me from one of my last full-nights’ sleep in who knew how long so I could look at a plastic owl in a stranger’s back yard at 11:30 at night. No, I didn’t thank him, I told him it was a plastic owl and I was going back to bed.

Owl #2

plastic owl from the window

About a year ago I walked into our bathroom and looked out the window that faces our back yard. Our back yard sees lots of bird-life and I see a fair number of birds while doing my business in the bathroom. This day I was surprised and excited to see an owl sitting on the back-door neighbors’ house. I squinted at the owl for a while then ran to get my binoculars. Yeah, it was an owl all right. It was a plastic owl they’d attached to the glass roof over the door of their office probably to keep birds from pooping on the roof.

A plastic owl

Of course this owl reminded me of the owl from the summer our daughter was born. But you know something? Every single time for months when I’d look out the bathroom window my heart did a little flip-flop thinking it was an owl. Then I’d remember the other owl and smile. Lately I no longer think it is a real owl, but I still smile at how happy my husband was the night he thought he found me an owl.