September 14, Harvard.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
Little sister Jo.
September 13, Byron.
Jo and Priscilla are leaving later on this week to visit the Carson and Barnes Circus, where they worked for many years (and where I met them,) and then go back home to the Little Sisters' home in Baltimore.
Eternally the guardian angels of the road and of my heart.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Too much.
September 13, Byron.
After the morning move and a full day I was so tired at the end of the drive last night that I felt nauseous, the lights of Fridman's truck in front of me dancing like lampoons in the wind.
After the morning move and a full day I was so tired at the end of the drive last night that I felt nauseous, the lights of Fridman's truck in front of me dancing like lampoons in the wind.
Dangerous liaisons.
September 12, Lake in the Hills.
As we headed home after breakfast and too many garage sales people began to gather along the street, bearing homemade signs. A dozen people maybe, with signs that read, among others, "Fascism" and "No to Obama care" with the "o" in Obama filled with the Soviet Union's Communist emblem. They called for honks if you agreed. There were quite a lot of honks.
Later I realized that the folks from this very proper, upper-middle-class, cookie-cutter box-type-home suburbia were part of a larger movement, the so-called Tea Party protest, demonstrating the same day in Washington, D.C. Fascist, Nazi, read the signs there too, along with the now-familiar "Socialism."
As the daughter of a woman who grew up during World War II in a family involved with the Resistance, who had to flee her home with only what the family could fit into the car (my mother remembers clutching her favorite doll,) a woman who to this day can't stand the sight and sound of black leather boots preferred by the Gestapo torturers she sometimes heard pace her home, I am greatly offended by the irresponsible, casual use of those loaded words. The sheer ignorance of history they belie is repugnant, and so is the disrespect they pay the millions who suffered and died under such regimes. And what to say, other than laugh in light of the mind-boggling absurdity, of accusations of Communism hurled right along those of Fascism?
But ignorance doesn't bother with history: it is how its most horrendous mistakes are repeated. There is a place for an intelligent, civic debate on any issue in America, and it shouldn't welcome such ignorance and fear-mongering. The extreme-right and the good folks that follow them blindly need to go back to school to learn how to speak the language of civil society - the language of reason, and democracy.
Shame, shame, shame on the fear-mongers.
As we headed home after breakfast and too many garage sales people began to gather along the street, bearing homemade signs. A dozen people maybe, with signs that read, among others, "Fascism" and "No to Obama care" with the "o" in Obama filled with the Soviet Union's Communist emblem. They called for honks if you agreed. There were quite a lot of honks.
Later I realized that the folks from this very proper, upper-middle-class, cookie-cutter box-type-home suburbia were part of a larger movement, the so-called Tea Party protest, demonstrating the same day in Washington, D.C. Fascist, Nazi, read the signs there too, along with the now-familiar "Socialism."
As the daughter of a woman who grew up during World War II in a family involved with the Resistance, who had to flee her home with only what the family could fit into the car (my mother remembers clutching her favorite doll,) a woman who to this day can't stand the sight and sound of black leather boots preferred by the Gestapo torturers she sometimes heard pace her home, I am greatly offended by the irresponsible, casual use of those loaded words. The sheer ignorance of history they belie is repugnant, and so is the disrespect they pay the millions who suffered and died under such regimes. And what to say, other than laugh in light of the mind-boggling absurdity, of accusations of Communism hurled right along those of Fascism?
But ignorance doesn't bother with history: it is how its most horrendous mistakes are repeated. There is a place for an intelligent, civic debate on any issue in America, and it shouldn't welcome such ignorance and fear-mongering. The extreme-right and the good folks that follow them blindly need to go back to school to learn how to speak the language of civil society - the language of reason, and democracy.
Shame, shame, shame on the fear-mongers.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Multi-tasking.
September 12, Lake in the Hills.
The circus puts the "m" in multi-tasking.
Moments before climbing up the trapeze Gilda and Adilson work at face-painting at the doors. Oscar, the show's manager, is also chief of the concession department. Most of the crew also drive a truck, and so do Armando, Adilson, Manuel, John and Fridman.
Riches.
September 12, Lake in the Hills.
There was a pledge not to go to garage sales again, but that must have been a long time ago, probably two weeks ago.
Lake in the Hills doesn't care for circuses to stay the night but it had a tremendous amount of garage sales this morning. Castro came along for the bargain ride but came away empty handed; we didn't. The bonanza started yesterday morning in Elmhurst, an upscale suburb of Chicago and a more geographically concentrated but just as plentiful garage sale experience.
There was also an estate sale in Elmhurst. I had never been to one and felt vaguely uneasy as, together with a bevy of other people, we elbowed in and out of the small, musty rooms of the old-fashioned brick home, staring at somebody else's scattered life of china cups, jewelry, linen and books, down to cleaning supplies, sheets and nightgowns. The owners were likely an elderly couple, for most of the kitchen ware looked to be from the forties, and the black, tiny woman's hats tacked to the wall of one of the bedroom were from a bygone era.
Among the riches was a beautiful set of Limoges porcelain dishes.
I didn't buy anything.
Nota bene: Courtney's better, no infection, only swelling that was made extremely painful because she didn't remove her boot and thus put undue pressure on it.
There was a pledge not to go to garage sales again, but that must have been a long time ago, probably two weeks ago.
Lake in the Hills doesn't care for circuses to stay the night but it had a tremendous amount of garage sales this morning. Castro came along for the bargain ride but came away empty handed; we didn't. The bonanza started yesterday morning in Elmhurst, an upscale suburb of Chicago and a more geographically concentrated but just as plentiful garage sale experience.
There was also an estate sale in Elmhurst. I had never been to one and felt vaguely uneasy as, together with a bevy of other people, we elbowed in and out of the small, musty rooms of the old-fashioned brick home, staring at somebody else's scattered life of china cups, jewelry, linen and books, down to cleaning supplies, sheets and nightgowns. The owners were likely an elderly couple, for most of the kitchen ware looked to be from the forties, and the black, tiny woman's hats tacked to the wall of one of the bedroom were from a bygone era.
Among the riches was a beautiful set of Limoges porcelain dishes.
I didn't buy anything.
Nota bene: Courtney's better, no infection, only swelling that was made extremely painful because she didn't remove her boot and thus put undue pressure on it.
Friday, September 11, 2009
General news.
September 11, Elmhurst.
I admit it, I'm one for consistency, I revel in routine. This moving at night, not moving at night thing has got me annoyed. The miles are few but they seem to stretch long - city driving with a trailer in tow.
In other news, Katherine North has not materialized yet, and Courtney just called us in distress, she was crying out in pain. Managing the Marathon is definitely not making things easier; we hope it is from over-working her foot, not an infection.
I admit it, I'm one for consistency, I revel in routine. This moving at night, not moving at night thing has got me annoyed. The miles are few but they seem to stretch long - city driving with a trailer in tow.
In other news, Katherine North has not materialized yet, and Courtney just called us in distress, she was crying out in pain. Managing the Marathon is definitely not making things easier; we hope it is from over-working her foot, not an infection.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Motorcycle on a wire.
September 10, Berwyn.
Manuel asked me to take pictures of him performing the wire motorcycle act.
He wanted a souvenir, this might be the last year he's doing it.
Rebecca.
September 10, Berwyn.
A new performer joined us yesterday, a friend of Tavana, Casey and Natalie's. Her name is Rebecca, she'll be with the circus for a few weeks, working the web act.
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
Down and up.
September 9, LaGrange.
The day started badly.
We moved this morning, which meant traffic, which means break-clutch-break-shift-break and all over again for fifteen minutes, thanks to a standard transmission truck, and getting close to using a lot of curse words under my breath, fuming about the decision to move in the morning in a metropolitan area, and then as we finally arrive Chris comes over to the window after parking me and barks about us being late.
Things got sweeter with a cornucopia of breakfast rolls, bagels and danish at the church hosting us (fresh coffee and a doughnut and the world is a better place.)
Scores of uniformed children then came out to watch the tent being raised, there were lots of giggles and shouts, and I shed the last of the lousy morning feeling taking pictures.
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
A trailer with a later view, and other news about Josie.
September 8, Midlothian.
Josie left late this morning for Hugo, and this time she's not coming back.
Her grandmother had a stroke, and there are "lots of stuff going on," she said as she was getting ready to go, Juju walking around with no shoes, Max with one sock on and Maya with bright orange toes.
Josie is going back to her mother, who raised her, Armando and two other siblings by herself, a "Mom/Dad kind of woman," as Armando put it during our interview.
Earlier in the season I remember Josie telling me that she missed Hugo and being with her Mom.
It was April.
Dawn.
September 8, Midlothian.
We move at night (except yesterday because it was Labor Day, no traffic) so I try to get up early to have a few moments alone with a book.
Some of the crew guys were pulling equipment out to prepare for raising the tent.
Monday, September 07, 2009
Update on Courtney.
September 7, Countryside.
Courtney mostly comes and hang out at our trailer now.
Katherine North is scheduled to come visit any day, so on Friday Courtney moved back to the Marathon. Not easy in her condition, but she manages. Last week she went back to the hospital in Holland for her first checkup and it went fine; she now has a boot instead of a cast, does rehab exercises, and gets around a lot easier. Poco a poco.
Right now she's entertaining the kids (or is it the other way around?) in the last light of the day.
The zest in circus life.
September 7, Countryside.
It feels strangely over, the circus, now that most of the kids are gone. They fought, they got in trouble, they gave a joyous buoyancy to the show of circus life.
Renzo fell during his much-anticipated stint on Dusty the black Belgian horse and coming out he started fighting with Armando, Josie and Zefta about it. Zefta and that very Mediterranean thing with the hand.
Now it's just humdrum at the circus.
Friday, September 04, 2009
Exit.
September 4, Glendale Heights.
Last time around the ring for the three kids on horses. Tomorrow only Eric remains.
Last call.
September 4, Glendale Heights.
Zefta and Renzo are leaving tomorrow, back to Hugo to start school.
Zefta said she was looking forward to Hugo but not school. Armando's family will be down to Natalia and five-month-old Argenio (background.)
The clan.
September 4, Glendale Heights.
Sam, Dee Dee and Hector Perez' son, is Cuco's nephew, and a majority of the crew guys are loosely related to the Perez family, turning the Kelly Miller Circus into a big clan of sorts (it's about to get even bigger - both Dee Dee and Bernice are pregnant.)
Sam likes to help put up the tent.
The night moves.
September 4, Glendale Heights.
We moved last night, starting the Chicago area tour. I've been dreading this for days now, needlessly recounting last year's worse episodes, my night vision going worse it seemed with the anxiety.
The move went smoothly, and led to one of the best lots of the season for me, I loved it last year, great playground, beautiful park, bountiful stores all around. I'm happy to be back here and thrilled by the three-day stay, a first for us at Kelly Miller. It will allow for a little more time to roam, a little more time to breathe, maybe even some time to unwind if the kids cooperate.
We moved last night, starting the Chicago area tour. I've been dreading this for days now, needlessly recounting last year's worse episodes, my night vision going worse it seemed with the anxiety.
The move went smoothly, and led to one of the best lots of the season for me, I loved it last year, great playground, beautiful park, bountiful stores all around. I'm happy to be back here and thrilled by the three-day stay, a first for us at Kelly Miller. It will allow for a little more time to roam, a little more time to breathe, maybe even some time to unwind if the kids cooperate.
Thursday, September 03, 2009
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
One.
September 2, Morocco.
Jon is the son of Bernice, Tavo's oldest daughter, and Lesley, the assistant mechanic. We celebrated his first birthday today.
Franglish.
September 1, Valparaiso.
Now that Giuliano's back Dylan is gone all day playing with him, in and out of Josie's trailer. If I'm lucky, like today, he's right across from our trailer and I can watch him, if not things get complicated, but in all cases there is no pulling him away from his best friend. So now Dylan has started speaking a lot more English, too. It's a funny English of course, of the three-year-old learning another language via a five-year-old sort. Back home he calls his brother using the English pronunciation of the name and today as I was handing him a toy he'd asked for he rushed off saying "thank you!... non, merci!"
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
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