INSIDE THIS EDITION:
- A MOTHER'S DAY REMEMBRANCE by Bill Hudson
- SOUP by Barry Marshall
- ENJOY A MID-DAY JAZZ CONCERT (Wed, Jun 18)
- BLOCK ISLAND THEN AND NOW
- LLC'S TRIP TO ISABELLA STEWART GARDNER (Mar 29)
Click on the links to jump to the article.
A Mother’s Day Remembrance
by Bill Hudson
When I was in third grade, my family moved from one Indianapolis neighborhood to another. The new neighborhood consisted of newly constructed tract houses to accommodate the 1950s demand for housing and fueled by the ready availability of subsidized VA and FHA mortgages. Our house was the “Cape Cod” model. Two stories, the top consisting of two large bedrooms, one for my sister and the other for my little brother and me with sloping ceilings. A small hallway joined the bedrooms with stairs leading to the first floor off to the left and a bathroom to the right. On the first floor was a living room, two additional bedrooms – one my parents’ bedroom and the other the guest room/TV room, a second bathroom (what luxury-two bathrooms!) and a combined kitchen-dining room. Connected was a two-car garage. We had joined the post-War “Affluent Society”.
This move to a more comfortable house came with some challenges for me. We moved in the middle of a school year. I had to join a new third grade class in midstream. Not only was there the challenge of a new teacher and making new friends, the curriculum from my old school and this new one was not in sync – especially in arithmetic. Third grade was the year for learning multiplication tables. My old class, when I left, was only up to multiplying by five but my new class was on multiplying by nine. I had a lot of catching up to do. I was the new kid in school, feeling dumb, and not at all at ease in my new surroundings. Then disaster struck.
We lived about a quarter mile from the school – an easy walk, but my parents decided that eating the offered school lunch was preferable to walking home midday. For the school provided lunch, I was to bring the week’s lunch money every Monday to give to my teacher. This worked fine for several weeks. Then one Monday, I forgot my lunch money. Now the reality was that not only did I forget my week’s lunch money, but my parents must also have forgotten as well. But when I arrived at school, I was conscious only of my own culpability. I was mortified. How could I have been so stupid? And what was I to do? Throughout the morning, I fretted about what would happen when lunchtime came. Would I be punished if I tried to eat lunch at school? Would I be arrested for attempted theft of a lunch? I was afraid to mention my problem to my teacher for fear she would be angry with me. When lunch hour arrived, I left school with those kids who went home for lunch and headed home.
As I approached our house, I spotted my mother in the front yard. I do not know why she was outside. Maybe she was checking emerging flowers in the front yard (it was springtime) or perhaps returning from a visit to the neighbors. When I saw her a wave of apprehension engulfed me. Would she be angry that I came home when I wasn’t supposed to? She soon spotted me coming up the driveway. Upon seeing me she smiled. At that moment I perceived my mother as the most beautiful woman that had ever existed. Helen of Troy, Dido, Aphrodite, Greta Garbo – none held a candle to the wonderful woman who smiled at me as I approached our house. My heart leapt. I ran to her, tears streaming down my cheeks. She opened her arms and brought me to her in a hug. “What’s the matter Billy?” she asked. “Why aren’t you at school?” Through my tears I related the awful story of forgetting my school lunch money and worrying about what to do. “Come inside,” she said. “I will make you lunch”. She did and sent me back to school with lunch money for the rest of the week.
My mother has been gone for many years now, but on Mother’s Day, I remember this moment when a little boy needed his mother’ love and consolation and she was there.
Photo by Yoksel 
Zok on Unsplash
Soup
by Barry Marshall
Talking with you,
I would so like;
for just now I am
making a matzah ball poem
out of yesterday’s chicken.
I cannot speak to you
to get an answer to the
stirring question—
Which matzo ball soup mix
is the right one?
Memory says
Manischewitz, not Streits;
I think I’m right,
but never mind;
I always used the occasion
to dial you up across the Continental United States,
to hear your voice,
and ask, “What am I missing?”
Your voice…your voice is what I am missing.
The telling of the carrots, the onion,
the coarse kosher salt, the sweet celery,
the smoky parsnip,
the parsley tied by a thread at the stems.
I am making the poem anyway.
When I lift the lid,
the steam billows up
and clouds my glasses.
The smell is resonant
of you, mama, of you.
Enjoy a Mid-Day Jazz Concert
Wednesday, June 18 at Shriners Center
LLC members and their guests are invited to join the All That's Jazz course in kicking off the summer with a mid-day jazz concert on Wednesday, June 18, from 12-2 pm. The program will be held in our new classroom location at the Shriners Center, One Rhodes Place, in the Edgewood/Pawtuxet Village neighborhood of Cranston. Doors will open at 11 for members who want to bring lunch and visit with friends before the concert. Click for driving directions.
Repeating last summer's enthusiastically received concert for LLC, jazz course instructor Clay Nordhill has once again assembled a group of talented local musicians to present a jazz showcase -- a chance to hear some great jazz and also talk with the musicians about their craft. The concert is free of charge, and members are welcome to bring guests. (No young children please.) Advance registration is required for both members and guests. Seating is limited, and registration will be closed when we reach capacity.
Click to register.
Block Island Then and Now
Who knew what treasure lay off the coast of Rhode Island? As with all courses in the LLC, everyone gets to find a piece of the picture. For eight weeks, “Block Island Then and Now” class members explored the earliest days of BI, from the melting of the glaciers that formed two parts of the island, to the geology, the beaches and dunes, to the earliest native settlers to the other “original settlers” to the flora and fauna and to the graceful “windmills” dotting the coast.
Today the island can boast about a state-of-the-art energy initiative and a phenomenal wraparound health system, caring for the roughly 1,400 year-round residents and preparing for the 30,000-plus expected visitors over the summers.
With the assistance of our communications committee, the class offered the benefit of bringing presenters from UCONN and the BI Nature Conservancy into the classroom via Zoom, adding to the three who shared their experiences in person. We had grand finales as well. Our last class featured a visit from a former RI Poet Laureate, who had run an inn on the island, sharing her perspective of what it was like back then. She beguiled the class with some of her poetry and left members of the class wanting more … so stay tuned.
Photo by Pat Nickles
The final finale was a Block Island tour via Experience Rhode Island Bus Tours, touching many of the island’s special places, including a visit with standoffish llamas.
We arrived surrounded by fog, but spirits were high, our driver was upbeat and full of fascinating facts, and the day progressed right into an afternoon full of sunshine. A couple of t-shirts and some homemade ice cream later, we were bobbing on back to the mainland, chatting away above and below deck, with lighthearted camaraderie that lasted until the last passenger left the bus.
The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum
On March 29, LLC members visited the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston, a trip organized by the LLC Cultural Activities Committee chaired by Celene Healy and Pat Nickles.
From the website: Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum
Construction of Isabella’s museum began in 1899, and was completed in late 1901. She moved into the private fourth-floor living quarters and devoted herself to personally arranging works of art in the historic galleries on the first three floors. In 1901 and 1902, Isabella installed her collection of paintings, sculptures, tapestries, furniture, manuscripts, rare books, and decorative arts. She continued to acquire works and change the installations for the rest of her life.
The Yellow Room
THE HANGING NASTURTIUMS
Photos by Diana Grady