August 11, Point Place.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
The project.
August 11, Point Place.
I've been working on the Mudshow Diaries pictures project, shuffling images around, adding some, taking others out, and here is the result.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/63140412@N06/sets/72157627411039118/
I've been working on the Mudshow Diaries pictures project, shuffling images around, adding some, taking others out, and here is the result.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/63140412@N06/sets/72157627411039118/
Patrick Berta, 1963-1993 - Shooting star.
August 11, Point Place.
My brother Patrick died last night eighteen years ago on the tail of a shooting star.
He was 29 years young.
He was one of those rare good men. I miss him every day.
My brother Patrick died last night eighteen years ago on the tail of a shooting star.
He was 29 years young.
He was one of those rare good men. I miss him every day.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Kelleys Island.
August 10, Woodville.
We moved at night from Kelleys Island, as usual, and had to wait for the last show vehicles to make the ferry across to hit the road, as usual, so it was almost four in the morning when we got here. The night was deliciously cool and breezy.
Tuesday, August 09, 2011
The Loyal tribe.
August 9, Kelleys Island.
Some in the extended Loyal tribe got together for Kelleys Island: Armando's Mom, Lucy came, and all his children, Christian, Zefta, Renzo and Argio, joined by the Fusco side of the family, all the sisters, Karen, Natalia, Tatiana and Delena, and then the most recent addition, Ryan, and the youngest, his and Tatiana's son, baby Nicolas.
Monday, August 08, 2011
Sunday, August 07, 2011
Saturday, August 06, 2011
Friday, August 05, 2011
Thursday, August 04, 2011
Flaco's in trouble.
August 4, Massillon.
As Nellie was finishing her clean-up job in the motor home before Juliana and Felipe's arrival, Flaco burst in, crying. She questioned him as to what happened; a tantrum in the cook house and Adrian sending him home, it turned out.
Gordo's surprise.
August 4, Massillon.
Life-long friends of Nellie and Adrian's, Juliana and Felipe, arrived today from Florida for a visit.
They are former circus performers, now retired, who met Nellie when they worked for her father, Tommy Hanneford. Their visit was kept a secret for Gordo, a surprise birthday present. They are his godparents.
Gordo has been telling me every time I see him how many days are left before his birthday this month (nineteen as of today.)
Wednesday, August 03, 2011
Tuesday, August 02, 2011
New costumes.
August 2, Kirtland.
The Poemas are working on new costumes, designed by Cathy.
Yesterday they were adjusting them with the help of Karen, the oldest of the Fusco daughters and a seamstress. Karen arrived two days ago for a family visit.
The Unique Thrift Store.
August 1, Willowick.
A good day by the lake, but we never get to it because of the swimming pool and spray park right where we are, Dylan has the time of his life and Nicolas is ever coming out of his anxious shell, my no-water-on-my-head one and he starts out crying and ends up running up a storm under the dinosaur spouts, one more battle won on my side, one more big door blasted open on his journey through unveiling the murky nonsense we take on as life.
Laundry day too, on a strip of suburban thoroughfare between a rundown Sears and a liquor store, and a thrift store to die for, half-price on Mondays, and a three-dollar pair of Gap pants will cost you next to nothing, welcome to America, a cartload of stuff and not even a dent in my pocket, so much stuff and I wonder whether this is because people here have too much or whether Europeans are just too stingy - no such thing in France as The Unique Thrift Store and its endless racks of ridiculously cheap used clothes.
Julie is all smiles.
A good day by the lake, but we never get to it because of the swimming pool and spray park right where we are, Dylan has the time of his life and Nicolas is ever coming out of his anxious shell, my no-water-on-my-head one and he starts out crying and ends up running up a storm under the dinosaur spouts, one more battle won on my side, one more big door blasted open on his journey through unveiling the murky nonsense we take on as life.
Laundry day too, on a strip of suburban thoroughfare between a rundown Sears and a liquor store, and a thrift store to die for, half-price on Mondays, and a three-dollar pair of Gap pants will cost you next to nothing, welcome to America, a cartload of stuff and not even a dent in my pocket, so much stuff and I wonder whether this is because people here have too much or whether Europeans are just too stingy - no such thing in France as The Unique Thrift Store and its endless racks of ridiculously cheap used clothes.
Julie is all smiles.
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