| London |
After I had been writing Turning It Around for awhile,
I began to realize that it was misleading because I was
focusing on my abortion as if it and only it had led to
recent bad times. (I should probably mention that I
have wanted to be a writer ever since I can remember.
Before I went to kindergarten I used to copy the Polish
newspaper, which I didn't understand, in order "to
write." When I was in grade school I used to practice
writing the beginnings of stories. There was so much I
didn't know that beginning was all I could manage.
The fact is that the abortion never led to the extreme
poverty that I experienced when I had my son. Nor
after my abortion was I told never to return to
Wisconsin.
It is my London experience that I turned into Go, my
unpublished and as yet incomplete novel, so that I
could tell the story not event by event, but in terms of
the motivations, emotions, struggles, and everything I
knew about life.
I began to realize that it was misleading because I was
focusing on my abortion as if it and only it had led to
recent bad times. (I should probably mention that I
have wanted to be a writer ever since I can remember.
Before I went to kindergarten I used to copy the Polish
newspaper, which I didn't understand, in order "to
write." When I was in grade school I used to practice
writing the beginnings of stories. There was so much I
didn't know that beginning was all I could manage.
The fact is that the abortion never led to the extreme
poverty that I experienced when I had my son. Nor
after my abortion was I told never to return to
Wisconsin.
It is my London experience that I turned into Go, my
unpublished and as yet incomplete novel, so that I
could tell the story not event by event, but in terms of
the motivations, emotions, struggles, and everything I
knew about life.
This is me, Karen Kline, in the Sixties: idealistic
Cultural Committee Chairman for the University
Center Board when I was in University. I was voted
Chairman of the year, primarily because of my knack
for getting people to work together. For instance I had
really great meeting attendance because I'd asked
some of the most talented senior guys to be on my
committee, and a lot of the cute freshman girls.
Cultural Committee Chairman for the University
Center Board when I was in University. I was voted
Chairman of the year, primarily because of my knack
for getting people to work together. For instance I had
really great meeting attendance because I'd asked
some of the most talented senior guys to be on my
committee, and a lot of the cute freshman girls.
Sometime in the Seventies, before I got pregnant, I was
helping Richard Morse, hydrologist for the New Mexico
Highway Department, make a Ferro Cement boat in the
desert near where the Santa Fe Race Track is today.
I did the oxy/aceteline welding. (I wanted to be a silversmith,
so it was a little off the mark.)
helping Richard Morse, hydrologist for the New Mexico
Highway Department, make a Ferro Cement boat in the
desert near where the Santa Fe Race Track is today.
I did the oxy/aceteline welding. (I wanted to be a silversmith,
so it was a little off the mark.)
Years later when I was eight months pregnant my friend
Marcia took this picture of me while we were grocery
shopping.
I stayed with Marcia in Oshkosh, Wisconsin while I waited
for my passport so I could move to London. (I also stayed
with Jim Sprouse and Jenny.)
My glasses were the kind that get darker in bright light. When
Miguel was a baby he "posted" them into the dust bin, which
I emptied before I realized my glasses were missing.
Marcia took this picture of me while we were grocery
shopping.
I stayed with Marcia in Oshkosh, Wisconsin while I waited
for my passport so I could move to London. (I also stayed
with Jim Sprouse and Jenny.)
My glasses were the kind that get darker in bright light. When
Miguel was a baby he "posted" them into the dust bin, which
I emptied before I realized my glasses were missing.
My friend Marcia was Chief Operator at the telephone
company, but I forget if it was in Oshkosh at that time, or in
Stevens Point, later, or Green Bay. (Or, maybe she was
Chief in all three of them at one time or another.)
Maybe she was going to university in Oshkosh as well as
working at the telephone company... that may well be.
company, but I forget if it was in Oshkosh at that time, or in
Stevens Point, later, or Green Bay. (Or, maybe she was
Chief in all three of them at one time or another.)
Maybe she was going to university in Oshkosh as well as
working at the telephone company... that may well be.
Miguel and I on the Sudeley Street roof patio. Miguel is
sitting on the wall of John's row home. You can see a series
of walls behind him. Each row home is one room wide, plus
the width of the entrance hall.
John had our roof changed from the typical two sloping
surfaces to one flat surface where we could have plants and
sit out. I loved the London chimneys when I first arrived, and
love them still.
sitting on the wall of John's row home. You can see a series
of walls behind him. Each row home is one room wide, plus
the width of the entrance hall.
John had our roof changed from the typical two sloping
surfaces to one flat surface where we could have plants and
sit out. I loved the London chimneys when I first arrived, and
love them still.
John F.P. Hudson, the English topologist who wrote
Piecewise Linear Topology, was so excited about me coming
to England to him, to have Miguel.
John was my first love. I met him in Monterey, California
while he was in a think tank. John was great with Miguel.
(John once teased, "Never tell a woman you love her or she'll
show up seven years later, pregnant.")
I wish I had not cried so much after I had Miguel and my
mother told me never to return to Wisconsin. John suffered
from depression, and had been attracted to me because of my
sunny disposition. My constant crying was hard on him and
we broke up. Though I tended to say we broke up because
he was an Atheist and I was a Pantheist.
Piecewise Linear Topology, was so excited about me coming
to England to him, to have Miguel.
John was my first love. I met him in Monterey, California
while he was in a think tank. John was great with Miguel.
(John once teased, "Never tell a woman you love her or she'll
show up seven years later, pregnant.")
I wish I had not cried so much after I had Miguel and my
mother told me never to return to Wisconsin. John suffered
from depression, and had been attracted to me because of my
sunny disposition. My constant crying was hard on him and
we broke up. Though I tended to say we broke up because
he was an Atheist and I was a Pantheist.
Miguel made this armour and played with it a lot. He was
very proud of it. The black at the front is his shield, it would
have been the shiny pink, too, but the reflection made it
appear black.
When John and I were breaking up, and I found that John
had thrown the armour away, I was so sad because I knew
then that John didn't care about Miguel's feelings. Or so it
seemed.
very proud of it. The black at the front is his shield, it would
have been the shiny pink, too, but the reflection made it
appear black.
When John and I were breaking up, and I found that John
had thrown the armour away, I was so sad because I knew
then that John didn't care about Miguel's feelings. Or so it
seemed.
Miguel rode his tricycle all over London. I had a rope tied to
it and pulled him along relatively quickly after we got off the
red London bus.
This picture was taken by John at the warf when we were
visiting the Lighthouse Ship.
In the West End, like on Oxford Street, it was very crowded
so that no picture taken there would have shown the tricycle
so clearly.
it and pulled him along relatively quickly after we got off the
red London bus.
This picture was taken by John at the warf when we were
visiting the Lighthouse Ship.
In the West End, like on Oxford Street, it was very crowded
so that no picture taken there would have shown the tricycle
so clearly.
When we walked along Regent's Canal at the bottom of our
street, we didn't use the rope.
The arch at the top left of the photo is Danbury Street
Bridge. Beyond it is the lock for this section of the canal.
Miguel used to draw quite complicated things, like the lock,
and after a visit to the British Museum or the Victoria and
Albert, I forget now, he drew a Flintlock gun that he had
seen.
street, we didn't use the rope.
The arch at the top left of the photo is Danbury Street
Bridge. Beyond it is the lock for this section of the canal.
Miguel used to draw quite complicated things, like the lock,
and after a visit to the British Museum or the Victoria and
Albert, I forget now, he drew a Flintlock gun that he had
seen.
Just before John and I broke up, Miguel and I went to
Cornwall with Susan and Barney Buik, who lived across
Sudeley Street from us.
We stayed in Diamond Cottage in Polruan, and took the
ferry across the estuary to Fowey each day.
I wish this was a better picture of Sue. She did the Times
Crossword every day and loved Theatre and to read. She
had grown up in Malaysia where her dad headed up the
British tin interests. In her childhood pictures there were
monkeys and exotic birds.
Cornwall with Susan and Barney Buik, who lived across
Sudeley Street from us.
We stayed in Diamond Cottage in Polruan, and took the
ferry across the estuary to Fowey each day.
I wish this was a better picture of Sue. She did the Times
Crossword every day and loved Theatre and to read. She
had grown up in Malaysia where her dad headed up the
British tin interests. In her childhood pictures there were
monkeys and exotic birds.
Miguel loved the Fowey beaches and playing in the boats that
lined them.
We went back to London on April 1st. I found John getting
ready for a date with Laura who lived next door to Myrth, his
sister. April Fool's Day.
It was so painful, I didn't think anything could be that painful.
I threw an i ching, asking about Laura, thinking it would tell
me she was a home wrecker, a terrible person. But it gave me
the hexagram for marriage. Earlier it had said that I should
not leave. Perhaps it was a fork in the road and I should not
have gone across the street to Susan's. Perhaps if I had not
left, John would have chosen to stay with Miguel and me.
lined them.
We went back to London on April 1st. I found John getting
ready for a date with Laura who lived next door to Myrth, his
sister. April Fool's Day.
It was so painful, I didn't think anything could be that painful.
I threw an i ching, asking about Laura, thinking it would tell
me she was a home wrecker, a terrible person. But it gave me
the hexagram for marriage. Earlier it had said that I should
not leave. Perhaps it was a fork in the road and I should not
have gone across the street to Susan's. Perhaps if I had not
left, John would have chosen to stay with Miguel and me.
Miguel and I lived with Susan and Barney Buik for a while.
Miguel woke up every day saying, "I go see John." It made
me so desperately sad. I tried to explain to Miguel how sad it
made me because John wasn't in our lives any more. So the
next day Miguel woke up, sat up in bed, and said, "I no say I
go see John." Heart wrenching.
Then I found a flat at 277 Goswell Road, just a couple blocks
away but in an industrial area. London Industrial Diamonds
and a florist were downstairs. The upstairs was vacant. The
building was owned by the Worshipful Company of Brewers.
The daffodils are outside our living room window on a
shallow balcony.
Our flat extended over three ground level buildings, so it was
a lovely large room.
Miguel woke up every day saying, "I go see John." It made
me so desperately sad. I tried to explain to Miguel how sad it
made me because John wasn't in our lives any more. So the
next day Miguel woke up, sat up in bed, and said, "I no say I
go see John." Heart wrenching.
Then I found a flat at 277 Goswell Road, just a couple blocks
away but in an industrial area. London Industrial Diamonds
and a florist were downstairs. The upstairs was vacant. The
building was owned by the Worshipful Company of Brewers.
The daffodils are outside our living room window on a
shallow balcony.
Our flat extended over three ground level buildings, so it was
a lovely large room.
Miguel and I lived on the corner of Goswell Road and Friend
Street. This is the side view of where we lived. The street
sign says, "Friend Street."
The three windows above the balcony are to our flat. They
were floor to ceiling windows in the Georgian style. I hung
cream colored army blankets from my friend Virginia for
drapes.
At first I painted the whole place black and brown: Otter and
Tobacco. The walls were Tobacco, and the woodwork was
Otter. The colors reflected how I felt.
In a year or so I wallpapered with Shinto paper from Habitat,
basically it was cream with a green design on it.
Street. This is the side view of where we lived. The street
sign says, "Friend Street."
The three windows above the balcony are to our flat. They
were floor to ceiling windows in the Georgian style. I hung
cream colored army blankets from my friend Virginia for
drapes.
At first I painted the whole place black and brown: Otter and
Tobacco. The walls were Tobacco, and the woodwork was
Otter. The colors reflected how I felt.
In a year or so I wallpapered with Shinto paper from Habitat,
basically it was cream with a green design on it.
My workbench was under an old light fixture on an ancient,
weighted pulley. The matted art on the Shinto wallpaper is
by Miguel. You can see the blanket drapes.
When I wanted the workbench, after I had seen it in Hatton
Garden, I just wanted it so much. I thought and thought
about it. It's very beautiful, in addition to being useful.
While I was wanting it so much, I got a phone call one day
for the very shop at which the work bench was. The shop's
number was not at all like mine, so I think the call must have
been in response to my strong thoughts sent into the universe.
Actually, I seldom had a phone during those days. When
someone broke in, there was no way to call for help, so I
grabbed my bracelet mandrel and ran at him, scaring him
away (back out the kitchen window).
weighted pulley. The matted art on the Shinto wallpaper is
by Miguel. You can see the blanket drapes.
When I wanted the workbench, after I had seen it in Hatton
Garden, I just wanted it so much. I thought and thought
about it. It's very beautiful, in addition to being useful.
While I was wanting it so much, I got a phone call one day
for the very shop at which the work bench was. The shop's
number was not at all like mine, so I think the call must have
been in response to my strong thoughts sent into the universe.
Actually, I seldom had a phone during those days. When
someone broke in, there was no way to call for help, so I
grabbed my bracelet mandrel and ran at him, scaring him
away (back out the kitchen window).
The shelves above my typing desk were put up by our friend
John Barry, managing editor of the Sunday Times. I don't
know why I didn't include in the photo the IBM Selectric
John arranged with the Sunday Times for
me to use to type Slater-Walker by Charles
Raw. John works for Newsweek, now.
By hiring me to type the book, John
provided for Miguel's needs that required
money. He paid me "under the table" because I hadn't been
successful getting the Home Office to allow me to work.
I used to buy nearly as much CorrectoType as I did paper;
when the book was published, I had a nightmare in which the
reviews said what a good book it was except for the massive
typographical errors.
John Barry, managing editor of the Sunday Times. I don't
know why I didn't include in the photo the IBM Selectric
John arranged with the Sunday Times for
me to use to type Slater-Walker by Charles
Raw. John works for Newsweek, now.
By hiring me to type the book, John
provided for Miguel's needs that required
money. He paid me "under the table" because I hadn't been
successful getting the Home Office to allow me to work.
I used to buy nearly as much CorrectoType as I did paper;
when the book was published, I had a nightmare in which the
reviews said what a good book it was except for the massive
typographical errors.
Our loo on Goswell Road was upstairs and just beyond this
little room with ladder. The watercloset ceiling had a hole
through which you could see the sky. That is what made the
building "derelict" by definition. Miguel did not like the
facilities at all, as you can see from his expression.
About a year after this picture was taken a huge fern or
fungus began growing on the wall above the hand basin in the
watercloset. I wish I had photographed it. It was amazing.
little room with ladder. The watercloset ceiling had a hole
through which you could see the sky. That is what made the
building "derelict" by definition. Miguel did not like the
facilities at all, as you can see from his expression.
About a year after this picture was taken a huge fern or
fungus began growing on the wall above the hand basin in the
watercloset. I wish I had photographed it. It was amazing.
J. Blundell was my favorite place to buy silver and gold to
use in my smithing. It was near Oxford Street, rather than in
Hatton Garden, as I remember it.
Once I needed some gold for bangles and they didn't have
quite what I needed so they said they'd send it to me. Sure
enough this package of gold that I had not paid for arrived,
and I was billed. It was totally amazing.
Another time the amount of gold I needed was as much as all
my money, and I must have blanched because the young
fellow waiting on me said I'd better have some of his
chocolate. He broke off a bit and gave it to me.
use in my smithing. It was near Oxford Street, rather than in
Hatton Garden, as I remember it.
Once I needed some gold for bangles and they didn't have
quite what I needed so they said they'd send it to me. Sure
enough this package of gold that I had not paid for arrived,
and I was billed. It was totally amazing.
Another time the amount of gold I needed was as much as all
my money, and I must have blanched because the young
fellow waiting on me said I'd better have some of his
chocolate. He broke off a bit and gave it to me.
Health Boundaries Bite
| http://www.health-boundaries-bite.com Your fingernails reflect your health -- Learn some warning signs -- Karen Kline |
This is my favorite picture of myself. It's me without
bleached blond hair, living on Sudeley Street with John and
my son, the me that I was so close to allowing to develop.
My mother had always wanted me to bleach my hair, and I
tended to do that. "Blonde's have more fun." Here I look
wistful for the contentment that was so close, but elusive.
bleached blond hair, living on Sudeley Street with John and
my son, the me that I was so close to allowing to develop.
My mother had always wanted me to bleach my hair, and I
tended to do that. "Blonde's have more fun." Here I look
wistful for the contentment that was so close, but elusive.
I used to tell Miguel stories about everything. When he was
tiny and in his pram I used to name everything he would be
seeing as we walked along. I thought that would help him
learn words. I was thinking of how my mother told me that
my father and his brother and sister didn't speak any
established language, like Polish, German, English, when he
went to school because their parents were too busy on the
farm to talk to their children, and quick to the bedroom at
night.
Once at a silversmithing class a woman asked me if my
husband was a barrister because my son talked so well.
tiny and in his pram I used to name everything he would be
seeing as we walked along. I thought that would help him
learn words. I was thinking of how my mother told me that
my father and his brother and sister didn't speak any
established language, like Polish, German, English, when he
went to school because their parents were too busy on the
farm to talk to their children, and quick to the bedroom at
night.
Once at a silversmithing class a woman asked me if my
husband was a barrister because my son talked so well.
Miguel running on the deck of the Hovercraft when John
took us to France for a camping holiday.
took us to France for a camping holiday.
I bought my outfit at John Lewis, thinking it looked French,
or at least right for traveling in France. We're in front of a
store that sold perfume, as I remember it. It seemed a perfect
place for a picture taken in France.
The bead I'm wearing is a Pre-Columbian jade bead from a
find in Mexico sometime in the '60s. A fellow on Lincoln
Avenue in Santa Fe had a whole box of different beads that
he wanted to sell me for $20. I thought it too much, so I
sorted through and bought this one and a few others.
I was always so frugal...
or at least right for traveling in France. We're in front of a
store that sold perfume, as I remember it. It seemed a perfect
place for a picture taken in France.
The bead I'm wearing is a Pre-Columbian jade bead from a
find in Mexico sometime in the '60s. A fellow on Lincoln
Avenue in Santa Fe had a whole box of different beads that
he wanted to sell me for $20. I thought it too much, so I
sorted through and bought this one and a few others.
I was always so frugal...
I loved camping in our three-room tent. Here it was morning
in the French farmyard and I was pretending to be washing
the windows. (Back in high school in Stevens Point,
Wisconsin, Jim Cooper had said I was most likely to put
curtains up even if I was living in a... I forget, but something
or the other from a John Steinbeck novel.)
in the French farmyard and I was pretending to be washing
the windows. (Back in high school in Stevens Point,
Wisconsin, Jim Cooper had said I was most likely to put
curtains up even if I was living in a... I forget, but something
or the other from a John Steinbeck novel.)
Walking in a French farmyard on my way back to our tent.
I'm not sure where this was, but I'm sure I asked John to
take the picture. I loved the idea of stones, art, ivy at one
with the stones, Miguel and me, and enduring.
take the picture. I loved the idea of stones, art, ivy at one
with the stones, Miguel and me, and enduring.
This is Miguel back in London, wearing his French fisherman
knit sweater that we bought in Brittany. Miguel was so great,
when it was very cold and I'd be grousing about it, Miguel
would say, "Don't say that mummy, Say, 'It's nice and cold!'"
He drew a whole series of pictures in which there was a small
thing that he identified as what kept it all together.
When John and I broke up, it wasn't all together anymore
and that wholeness of happiness was diminished.
Or, maybe it was when I couldn't keep a job because John
kept turning me in for working when I was an alien.
knit sweater that we bought in Brittany. Miguel was so great,
when it was very cold and I'd be grousing about it, Miguel
would say, "Don't say that mummy, Say, 'It's nice and cold!'"
He drew a whole series of pictures in which there was a small
thing that he identified as what kept it all together.
When John and I broke up, it wasn't all together anymore
and that wholeness of happiness was diminished.
Or, maybe it was when I couldn't keep a job because John
kept turning me in for working when I was an alien.
From Goswell Road we moved to a lovely, sun filled
Georgian Council Flat on Stonefield Street. It was perfect
except that the downstairs neighbors appeared to be National
Fronters, much disliking foreigners, and Mr. G., the man
between them and us, appeared to have Ahlzheimers or
something that caused him to be violent. He would pound on
our door saying he was going to break in and kill us.
When Mr. G. died the police brought us a lot of our mail
that he had in his flat. I felt so sorry for him because the
National Fronter people had been very mean to him despite
having gotten him to give them his bit of the garden.
After he died I felt Miguel was safe in the house, before that
I had been terrified that Mr. G. would actually break in.
Georgian Council Flat on Stonefield Street. It was perfect
except that the downstairs neighbors appeared to be National
Fronters, much disliking foreigners, and Mr. G., the man
between them and us, appeared to have Ahlzheimers or
something that caused him to be violent. He would pound on
our door saying he was going to break in and kill us.
When Mr. G. died the police brought us a lot of our mail
that he had in his flat. I felt so sorry for him because the
National Fronter people had been very mean to him despite
having gotten him to give them his bit of the garden.
After he died I felt Miguel was safe in the house, before that
I had been terrified that Mr. G. would actually break in.
John F. P. Hudson (John Francis Paige Hudson, after whom
I gave Miguel his middle name of Paige: Miguel Paige Kline)
and Miguel are shown here with a spectacular golden rod
plant in the garden of Pat Ashdown Sharp's lovely thatched,
Tudor cottage in Ludow: Pool Cottage.
John's wrist is bandaged because he had used his hands to
compact the trash when he was putting out our dust bin, and
I'd thrown away a broken glass coffee pot.
I wondered if it was a subconscious suicide attempt. Just
before that I'd falsely told John I was pregnant, to see how he
would be. I so did not want him to be like my father. John
was excited, then so disappointed when I said it wasn't true.
I gave Miguel his middle name of Paige: Miguel Paige Kline)
and Miguel are shown here with a spectacular golden rod
plant in the garden of Pat Ashdown Sharp's lovely thatched,
Tudor cottage in Ludow: Pool Cottage.
John's wrist is bandaged because he had used his hands to
compact the trash when he was putting out our dust bin, and
I'd thrown away a broken glass coffee pot.
I wondered if it was a subconscious suicide attempt. Just
before that I'd falsely told John I was pregnant, to see how he
would be. I so did not want him to be like my father. John
was excited, then so disappointed when I said it wasn't true.
John used to call Miguel "Muggins." John said it was a word
used to refer to oneself, in a sort of humorous way.
When Miguel was a baby I thought his little shock of hair
made him look like an American Indian with a Mohawk. I
thought he had a timeless, thoughtful, wise look.
One of my most embarrassing experiences ever happened
that weekend: when we had arrived and after Miguel was
sleeping, John and I were playing Scrabble when I spelled
Goast... Seriously. John asked me what I meant. It took me a
moment to snap. Then I felt that I must have looked so
incredibly ignorant to John.
used to refer to oneself, in a sort of humorous way.
When Miguel was a baby I thought his little shock of hair
made him look like an American Indian with a Mohawk. I
thought he had a timeless, thoughtful, wise look.
One of my most embarrassing experiences ever happened
that weekend: when we had arrived and after Miguel was
sleeping, John and I were playing Scrabble when I spelled
Goast... Seriously. John asked me what I meant. It took me a
moment to snap. Then I felt that I must have looked so
incredibly ignorant to John.
Another weekend John took us to Marlborough where he had
gone to boarding school and Avebury to see the standing
stones. It was an interesting time because Sudbury Hill was
being excavated in the belief that an ancient king would be
found buried within the man-made mound.
The Museum had lots of bits and pieces and a cafeteria with
minimal fare at the back.
Avebury is one of my favorite places in the world.
(John said many believed Merlin was buried in Marlborough,
and that in fact that's where the town's name came from.)
gone to boarding school and Avebury to see the standing
stones. It was an interesting time because Sudbury Hill was
being excavated in the belief that an ancient king would be
found buried within the man-made mound.
The Museum had lots of bits and pieces and a cafeteria with
minimal fare at the back.
Avebury is one of my favorite places in the world.
(John said many believed Merlin was buried in Marlborough,
and that in fact that's where the town's name came from.)
This picture was taken some Sunday afternoon at a pub
somewhere along the warf on the Thames.
I knit Miguel's sweater. It's a yin yang design that I chose,
for which John wrote the pattern. John really seemed to be
able to do anything.
There were so many good times that it's hard to believe how
much I cried from the time my mother said never to return to
Wisconsin.
somewhere along the warf on the Thames.
I knit Miguel's sweater. It's a yin yang design that I chose,
for which John wrote the pattern. John really seemed to be
able to do anything.
There were so many good times that it's hard to believe how
much I cried from the time my mother said never to return to
Wisconsin.
Then we drove to the coast and spent a day on a beach.
John and Miguel (mostly John) built a sand castle, much to
Miguel's delight.
Miguel's delight.
Gosh, I loved John so much. I used to watch him sleep: I
loved the goodness that I saw in him.
I remember when he wrote to me and I received the letter at
home in Stevens Point, my mother said, "What would a man
like that want with you?"
My mother had not been allowed to marry the Jewish man
she loved and subsequently married my father, who agreed
to convert. But he consistently deserted, and ... he abused
me when I was very little. My mother blamed me. She said I
had never been any good.
When she wrote that to me in London, John's parents found
the letter and no longer saw me as they had before.
loved the goodness that I saw in him.
I remember when he wrote to me and I received the letter at
home in Stevens Point, my mother said, "What would a man
like that want with you?"
My mother had not been allowed to marry the Jewish man
she loved and subsequently married my father, who agreed
to convert. But he consistently deserted, and ... he abused
me when I was very little. My mother blamed me. She said I
had never been any good.
When she wrote that to me in London, John's parents found
the letter and no longer saw me as they had before.
This is John changing on the beach.
John changed so much later, so much that it was hard to
believe it was the same man.
When we broke up, he told me that if I got a job to take care
of Miguel and me that he would match my income for a year.
Despite crying much of the time because I didn't think I'd
ever find another man as good as him, I got job after job, but
always the Home Office would contact my employer and say
I had to be replaced with an English person.
In time a barrister I met at a silver-smithing class organized
for me to have an "adjudication" with the Home Office. As a
part of that I got to see the dossier they had on me, and in it
were letters from John turning me in for working illegally
each and every time I'd gotten a job and written to him about
it.
I think that is the most deeply shocking thing I have ever
experienced. After that I would wake up at night confused
about where I was.
When John had asked me to come to London, to live with
him and have my baby, he had written about truth and
beauty, and I had so believed him.
John changed so much later, so much that it was hard to
believe it was the same man.
When we broke up, he told me that if I got a job to take care
of Miguel and me that he would match my income for a year.
Despite crying much of the time because I didn't think I'd
ever find another man as good as him, I got job after job, but
always the Home Office would contact my employer and say
I had to be replaced with an English person.
In time a barrister I met at a silver-smithing class organized
for me to have an "adjudication" with the Home Office. As a
part of that I got to see the dossier they had on me, and in it
were letters from John turning me in for working illegally
each and every time I'd gotten a job and written to him about
it.
I think that is the most deeply shocking thing I have ever
experienced. After that I would wake up at night confused
about where I was.
When John had asked me to come to London, to live with
him and have my baby, he had written about truth and
beauty, and I had so believed him.
My mother was against me going to college so grad
school wasn't likely, though Stanford had replied
somewhat positively.
Professor John Zawadski, head of the Philosophy
Dept, who wanted me to go to grad school, took an
interest and made me go to interviews for after
graduation jobs.
I took a job with AT&T in management training in
"Traffic" -- that is, operators answering calls back in
the days of switchboards.
This is me in front of a beautiful sliding door in the
apartment I rented in Green Bay, in the hay days of
the Green Bay Packers.
My friend, Claudis James, played for the Packers and
was going to take me home for Christmas when a
blizzard stopped Greyhounds from running, but my
mother said she didn't want me home for Christmas if I
was coming with a black man.
That was a changing point in my life: on that Christmas
Eve I decided not to remain a virgin. I'm SO GLAD I
made that decision, else my life would have been
barren. (I had decided in high school that I didn't want
to marry.)
school wasn't likely, though Stanford had replied
somewhat positively.
Professor John Zawadski, head of the Philosophy
Dept, who wanted me to go to grad school, took an
interest and made me go to interviews for after
graduation jobs.
I took a job with AT&T in management training in
"Traffic" -- that is, operators answering calls back in
the days of switchboards.
This is me in front of a beautiful sliding door in the
apartment I rented in Green Bay, in the hay days of
the Green Bay Packers.
My friend, Claudis James, played for the Packers and
was going to take me home for Christmas when a
blizzard stopped Greyhounds from running, but my
mother said she didn't want me home for Christmas if I
was coming with a black man.
That was a changing point in my life: on that Christmas
Eve I decided not to remain a virgin. I'm SO GLAD I
made that decision, else my life would have been
barren. (I had decided in high school that I didn't want
to marry.)
The stairwell was reframed with new dry wall when John
had central heating put in. After the new dry wall was up I
missed the openness of the bare framing wood, so I asked
John to have the workers remove the drywall. John did.
I remember the puzzled look on the worker's face as he
made his first claw hammer swipe at the fresh dry wall he'd
put in only a day or so earlier.
But, it was great to have the extra light from the windowed
door on the landing shining into our basement dining room.
You can see that Miguel loved it.
had central heating put in. After the new dry wall was up I
missed the openness of the bare framing wood, so I asked
John to have the workers remove the drywall. John did.
I remember the puzzled look on the worker's face as he
made his first claw hammer swipe at the fresh dry wall he'd
put in only a day or so earlier.
But, it was great to have the extra light from the windowed
door on the landing shining into our basement dining room.
You can see that Miguel loved it.
Miguel and his friend Sophie Dean in the holly at the back of
our garden.
Sophie was amazing to me because her "baby talk" was in
long paragraphs with all sorts of inflection. (Her mum read
Russian newspapers for the Foreign Office, and her dad,
Malcolm, wrote for the Guardian until recently.)
Malcolm once brought me a single red rose, when Miguel
and I were living on Goswell Rd.
our garden.
Sophie was amazing to me because her "baby talk" was in
long paragraphs with all sorts of inflection. (Her mum read
Russian newspapers for the Foreign Office, and her dad,
Malcolm, wrote for the Guardian until recently.)
Malcolm once brought me a single red rose, when Miguel
and I were living on Goswell Rd.
Posie Oertel was saying good-bye to me and wishing me luck
as I set off hitchhiking from her rented house in Tesuque,
New Mexico. My white tennis shoes were, I felt, sure to
show prospective rides that I was a good girl, and would
therefore keep me safe. Apparently it worked.
I was hitchhiking because I wanted to be a writer and Jim
Sprouse, who also wanted to be a writer hitchhiked. In fact,
he reported meeting Jack Kerouac while hitchhiking.
While hitchhiking I met a relative of Judge Learned Hand. I
think that's the very best I did in the meeting department.
as I set off hitchhiking from her rented house in Tesuque,
New Mexico. My white tennis shoes were, I felt, sure to
show prospective rides that I was a good girl, and would
therefore keep me safe. Apparently it worked.
I was hitchhiking because I wanted to be a writer and Jim
Sprouse, who also wanted to be a writer hitchhiked. In fact,
he reported meeting Jack Kerouac while hitchhiking.
While hitchhiking I met a relative of Judge Learned Hand. I
think that's the very best I did in the meeting department.
Aunt GiGi (Virginia Stark, oldest of grandma and grandpa's three children)
is upper left, next to her is Grandma Martha and next to her the almost
always smiling Grandpa Ambrose, who had named his grocery The Square
Grocery because, he said, he was fair and square. In the front, at the left is
Annie Skalski, for whom I used to babysit; then in the middle is my
mother, who was also the middle daughter, and finally, on the right is Aunt
Bunny who was youngest and always wrote me the most lovely letters
when I lived in London. She was talented in art, had taught home
economics, and used to sew clothes for me. When she gave me her old
clothes my mother was furious, but I was delighted.
is upper left, next to her is Grandma Martha and next to her the almost
always smiling Grandpa Ambrose, who had named his grocery The Square
Grocery because, he said, he was fair and square. In the front, at the left is
Annie Skalski, for whom I used to babysit; then in the middle is my
mother, who was also the middle daughter, and finally, on the right is Aunt
Bunny who was youngest and always wrote me the most lovely letters
when I lived in London. She was talented in art, had taught home
economics, and used to sew clothes for me. When she gave me her old
clothes my mother was furious, but I was delighted.
Grandma and Grandpa's dining room with its dark wood, glass fronted
display cabinets was beautiful.
Grandma always made rolls, which she never allowed me to actually help
with because she didn't want them ever to not turn out. I think, having
been to France, that what she made was brioche.
The reddish plate, center front, looks as if it holds the obligatory Jello. For
some reason Jello was an essential part of any family feast.
The last time I ate with the family in Grandma and Grandpa's dining room
was Thanksgiving, 1972, when I was carrying Miguel. I didn't tell anyone.
display cabinets was beautiful.
Grandma always made rolls, which she never allowed me to actually help
with because she didn't want them ever to not turn out. I think, having
been to France, that what she made was brioche.
The reddish plate, center front, looks as if it holds the obligatory Jello. For
some reason Jello was an essential part of any family feast.
The last time I ate with the family in Grandma and Grandpa's dining room
was Thanksgiving, 1972, when I was carrying Miguel. I didn't tell anyone.
Ann, Gary and John are Bunny's kids. I used to walk Annie for hours
when she was little. Bunny paid me and I used the money for school,
clothes and things. Ann worked with the environment, the last I heard --
which is pretty long ago.
Gary looked a lot like his dad, Ray, and John was a forest ranger before
going on to become a statistician in Washington State.
Bunny died very young, the youngest of the three daughters. Ray died not
that many years later.
when she was little. Bunny paid me and I used the money for school,
clothes and things. Ann worked with the environment, the last I heard --
which is pretty long ago.
Gary looked a lot like his dad, Ray, and John was a forest ranger before
going on to become a statistician in Washington State.
Bunny died very young, the youngest of the three daughters. Ray died not
that many years later.
Miguel and Ciannait having lunch at Ciannait's house.
Ciannait's mum, Virginia, was my ideal English lady. I
remember babysitting at their house (we were in the same
babysitting club) and reading a book on which plants liked
windows on which side of a room: east, west, etc.
Turned out Virginia grew up with a nanny on Park Ave.
New York.
Ciannait's mum, Virginia, was my ideal English lady. I
remember babysitting at their house (we were in the same
babysitting club) and reading a book on which plants liked
windows on which side of a room: east, west, etc.
Turned out Virginia grew up with a nanny on Park Ave.
New York.
A blizzard blanketed southern states we passed
through on our way to the Super Bowl, that was
the January after I had worked at the telephone
company. It was Vince Lombardi's last big win.
Upper management had asked me one day if I
liked my job, and I had replied that I hated it. I
was given severance pay, and that was it. (I had
been extremely sad after losing my virginity.)
You can see how much taller I was than most.
through on our way to the Super Bowl, that was
the January after I had worked at the telephone
company. It was Vince Lombardi's last big win.
Upper management had asked me one day if I
liked my job, and I had replied that I hated it. I
was given severance pay, and that was it. (I had
been extremely sad after losing my virginity.)
You can see how much taller I was than most.
I bought my brother, Kevin
John Kline, a typewriter the
year Mom said not to come
home for Christmas. When
I lived in Santa Fe I sent
him lots of silver Indian
jewelry and art.
He wrote me once in the
nine years I lived in
London. When I was back
he wrote asking for the
value of the Indian things
because they'd been stolen.
John Kline, a typewriter the
year Mom said not to come
home for Christmas. When
I lived in Santa Fe I sent
him lots of silver Indian
jewelry and art.
He wrote me once in the
nine years I lived in
London. When I was back
he wrote asking for the
value of the Indian things
because they'd been stolen.
Miguel on Goswell Road, with one of his Lego constructions
behind him. He was always building something. There were
usually extensive construction sights on the living room floor.
For living in a "derelict" building, our flat was pretty nice.
Alan Feldman, a stamp dealer from Camden Passage, helped
me get the flat livable. It had been a sweat shop, so there
were sockets for the sewing machines running along the
walls, and overhead there were dangling fluorescent light
fixtures. Alan took out the fluorescent lights for me. I had
such a crush on him. One night after he took Miguel and me
to Pizza Express on Coptic Street, Miguel asked him to sleep
with his mummy. I was abashed, and made Alan leave nearly
immediately.
behind him. He was always building something. There were
usually extensive construction sights on the living room floor.
For living in a "derelict" building, our flat was pretty nice.
Alan Feldman, a stamp dealer from Camden Passage, helped
me get the flat livable. It had been a sweat shop, so there
were sockets for the sewing machines running along the
walls, and overhead there were dangling fluorescent light
fixtures. Alan took out the fluorescent lights for me. I had
such a crush on him. One night after he took Miguel and me
to Pizza Express on Coptic Street, Miguel asked him to sleep
with his mummy. I was abashed, and made Alan leave nearly
immediately.
Spelling aside, my hair looked as if I was totally ignorant of
the value of visiting a hair saloon.
And, would Miguel not have had his American Indian shock
of hair if I had had a proper hair cut?
the value of visiting a hair saloon.
And, would Miguel not have had his American Indian shock
of hair if I had had a proper hair cut?
Miguel and me with his Teddy Bear in the garden on Sudeley
Street. I loved the brick work that was done one time and
another. I loved the way it displayed age with a singularity of
purpose.
When I finally went to a hair saloon and had my hair cut,
John didn't notice. So as soon as I could get another
appointment I went and had it cut again. Still John didn't
notice, so I made an appointment at Selfridges's saloon and
had it cut again. That night John looked at me, looked at me
again, and with a curious look on his face asked, "Is your hair
getting shorter?"
Street. I loved the brick work that was done one time and
another. I loved the way it displayed age with a singularity of
purpose.
When I finally went to a hair saloon and had my hair cut,
John didn't notice. So as soon as I could get another
appointment I went and had it cut again. Still John didn't
notice, so I made an appointment at Selfridges's saloon and
had it cut again. That night John looked at me, looked at me
again, and with a curious look on his face asked, "Is your hair
getting shorter?"
Fowey Church is in the background behind Miguel.
It is very hilly and there are stairs all over the village. The
custom is that young people mustn't pass on the steps or
they will never marry. They must wait at the landings for the
other person to proceed. I was told the custom by someone
who must have noticed I had no wedding ring.
Miguel's favorite place next to the beach was the passage
way where a toy store had the first Play People we ever
saw, and which I bought for him. He especially loved the
"Baddie Heads" that were displayed in another store:
colorful, ceramic heads of pirates and seafarers to be hung
on the wall. Miguel would say, "Let's go see the Baddie
Heads."
It is very hilly and there are stairs all over the village. The
custom is that young people mustn't pass on the steps or
they will never marry. They must wait at the landings for the
other person to proceed. I was told the custom by someone
who must have noticed I had no wedding ring.
Miguel's favorite place next to the beach was the passage
way where a toy store had the first Play People we ever
saw, and which I bought for him. He especially loved the
"Baddie Heads" that were displayed in another store:
colorful, ceramic heads of pirates and seafarers to be hung
on the wall. Miguel would say, "Let's go see the Baddie
Heads."
This is Miguel outside our downstairs front door. He really
liked the flat, and if not for our less than friendly neighbors
things would have been SO good.
One day when Miguel and I came home from me picking
him up at school there were thick, black carpenter's pencil
marks drawn all over the hallway walls. Another time Orange
Squash was splashed all over the walls. I was pretty sure Mr.
G. was doing it to make it look as if Miguel was a problem
child and we should be made to move.
The sound of Miguel jumping out of bed in the morning
made Mr. G. furious and he would pound on the ceiling.
When I planted flowers in a tub on the landing of the stairs to
the garden they were dug up with great gouging finger prints
left behind.
liked the flat, and if not for our less than friendly neighbors
things would have been SO good.
One day when Miguel and I came home from me picking
him up at school there were thick, black carpenter's pencil
marks drawn all over the hallway walls. Another time Orange
Squash was splashed all over the walls. I was pretty sure Mr.
G. was doing it to make it look as if Miguel was a problem
child and we should be made to move.
The sound of Miguel jumping out of bed in the morning
made Mr. G. furious and he would pound on the ceiling.
When I planted flowers in a tub on the landing of the stairs to
the garden they were dug up with great gouging finger prints
left behind.
Miguel had a lot of Lego bricks by this time;
he continued to love to build with them.
He's playing on a library table I found at
some "junk" store and refinished. (It is a
great sadness of mine that the sound of the
sander must have been horrible for Mr. G.,
and perhaps that's where his extreme
reaction to sound began.)
Or, perhaps it existed long before we moved
in. I was told that he had stomped so hard
on the floor that the ceiling light fixture in
the flat of the National Fronters had fallen.
he continued to love to build with them.
He's playing on a library table I found at
some "junk" store and refinished. (It is a
great sadness of mine that the sound of the
sander must have been horrible for Mr. G.,
and perhaps that's where his extreme
reaction to sound began.)
Or, perhaps it existed long before we moved
in. I was told that he had stomped so hard
on the floor that the ceiling light fixture in
the flat of the National Fronters had fallen.
I don't remember what the painted box with what appear to
be handles was. Miguel had elaborate creations that he
worked on for long periods of time.
In this picture he's playing just in front of his bedroom, the
door to which is where the dark woodwork is.
The gold on the left is a thick corduroy curtain that Virginia
Low gave to us, and which I used to cover the permanently
locked door to the next part of the building.
be handles was. Miguel had elaborate creations that he
worked on for long periods of time.
In this picture he's playing just in front of his bedroom, the
door to which is where the dark woodwork is.
The gold on the left is a thick corduroy curtain that Virginia
Low gave to us, and which I used to cover the permanently
locked door to the next part of the building.
The whole time Miguel went to play school on Mechlenburg
Square he had a ride to school every day from one of the
other mums.
When he started proper school nearby our Goswell Rd. flat I
walked him to school, only I often failed to get him ready on
time and I often let him stay home.
After we got to know the truant officer, Ian Short, who was a
wonderful man, I bought Miguel a watch to help him keep
time so that he would help me get him to school.
Square he had a ride to school every day from one of the
other mums.
When he started proper school nearby our Goswell Rd. flat I
walked him to school, only I often failed to get him ready on
time and I often let him stay home.
After we got to know the truant officer, Ian Short, who was a
wonderful man, I bought Miguel a watch to help him keep
time so that he would help me get him to school.
When we lived on Goswell Road our bus stop was across the
street from the Islington Water Department (round tower)
and Sadlers Wells Theatre on the right in the background.
The spring flower displays all over London were always
beautiful. (I was once told that the reason London has so
many squares filled with flowers is that they were sites of
mass burials during the plague, so that making gardens of
them seemed appropriate as time went on.)
Miguel's school was very near here, also.
street from the Islington Water Department (round tower)
and Sadlers Wells Theatre on the right in the background.
The spring flower displays all over London were always
beautiful. (I was once told that the reason London has so
many squares filled with flowers is that they were sites of
mass burials during the plague, so that making gardens of
them seemed appropriate as time went on.)
Miguel's school was very near here, also.
The Assay Office in Goldsmith's Hall where I took my
silver-smithing work to be hallmarked is part of the
Worshipful Company of Goldsmiths on Foster Lane. I
reached the Assay Office via Gutter Lane.
Sue Buik recounted a story told her by her father who had
become a solicitor (lawyer) when he was 69 after returning
from Malaysia: Coopers Lybrand Accountancy Firm, having
some scandal problems, asked the City of London to rename
Gutter Lane, where they were located, to Coopers Lane
(barrel makers being an old and time honored profession).
The City politely refused.
silver-smithing work to be hallmarked is part of the
Worshipful Company of Goldsmiths on Foster Lane. I
reached the Assay Office via Gutter Lane.
Sue Buik recounted a story told her by her father who had
become a solicitor (lawyer) when he was 69 after returning
from Malaysia: Coopers Lybrand Accountancy Firm, having
some scandal problems, asked the City of London to rename
Gutter Lane, where they were located, to Coopers Lane
(barrel makers being an old and time honored profession).
The City politely refused.
Greg Toulman, a friend of ours, introduced me to
Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which story he was able
to tell in order, if not recite perfectly. He was quite amazing
to me!
When I was back in Santa Fe and going to the races with
Ron Bond, who wanted to be a professional handicapper,
there was a horse running one day whose name was My
Friend Greg. I wanted to bet on the horse for old-times sake,
but it was going off at 30 to 1. In fact, the horse won.
I thought it was the universe telling me that Greg had indeed
been a good friend. (Greg said his family had helped Galileo
hide, back in an earlier time.)
Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which story he was able
to tell in order, if not recite perfectly. He was quite amazing
to me!
When I was back in Santa Fe and going to the races with
Ron Bond, who wanted to be a professional handicapper,
there was a horse running one day whose name was My
Friend Greg. I wanted to bet on the horse for old-times sake,
but it was going off at 30 to 1. In fact, the horse won.
I thought it was the universe telling me that Greg had indeed
been a good friend. (Greg said his family had helped Galileo
hide, back in an earlier time.)
This is Miguel at the British Museum. He was with me under
protest, and therefore not entirely happy. I expect I'd gotten
him to come along by means of a promise of Pizza Express
on Coptic Street, nearly across the street from the British
Museum.
Miguel's expression looks as if he's thinking about the pizza,
and hoping it comes soon, or maybe it won't be worth the
trouble of having to traipse with me through the antiquities.
protest, and therefore not entirely happy. I expect I'd gotten
him to come along by means of a promise of Pizza Express
on Coptic Street, nearly across the street from the British
Museum.
Miguel's expression looks as if he's thinking about the pizza,
and hoping it comes soon, or maybe it won't be worth the
trouble of having to traipse with me through the antiquities.
When I returned to Santa Fe I worked as night desk clerk at
La Posada. The night auditor, also in this picture, was my
nemesis, expecting me to be as good at figures as he.
For a long time I did all my wash by hand, saving my
quarters, that I would other wise have had to spend at the
laundromat, until I had enough to buy a skirt and blouse.
My favorite moment was checking in Stephen Spielberg who
was so young I could not believe it was him; I made him
show me identification. Plus, I kept saying, "I can't believe
you're Stephen Spielberg. You're so young." To which he
replied the second and third time I said it, that he'd heard that
before. But kindly, not mean. When after searching through
his duffle bag for identification, without success, he pulled out
his toothbrush and said, "See Stephen Spielberg's
toothbrush," that convinced me, since who else would have
his toothbrush. After that I saw how a part of his brilliance is
communicating people on their level.
La Posada. The night auditor, also in this picture, was my
nemesis, expecting me to be as good at figures as he.
For a long time I did all my wash by hand, saving my
quarters, that I would other wise have had to spend at the
laundromat, until I had enough to buy a skirt and blouse.
My favorite moment was checking in Stephen Spielberg who
was so young I could not believe it was him; I made him
show me identification. Plus, I kept saying, "I can't believe
you're Stephen Spielberg. You're so young." To which he
replied the second and third time I said it, that he'd heard that
before. But kindly, not mean. When after searching through
his duffle bag for identification, without success, he pulled out
his toothbrush and said, "See Stephen Spielberg's
toothbrush," that convinced me, since who else would have
his toothbrush. After that I saw how a part of his brilliance is
communicating people on their level.
After working at La Posada I sold classified ads at The New
Mexican, then sold and produced yellow pages ads for the
alternative Phone Book, and then sold ads on the trolleys.
The trolley people didn't pay me my commissions and I was
extremely poor for about a year, then I decided to sell real
estate since that was more regulated and I would be safer in
terms of being paid commissions I earned.
In this picture I'm standing by the fireplace in a listing of
mine on Camino Santander, in the Canyon Road area of
Santa Fe.
I loved selling real estate and tended to be the top producer in
my office. I worked long hours, almost all weekends, and
seldom took any time off.
I would hand write picture postcards of my listings in the
belief that the more clearly I thought about them, the more
likely it would be that someone would call on my ads.
My first year I made $5,000, then the next year I slept on the
office sofa and house-sat for several months when I didn't
have money to keep my apartment. Finally, by saving the
money I would otherwise have spent on rent, I had the
money to buy my condo and what a trip that turned out to be.
There were so many people that
I loved working with in their
search to buy or sell a home.
Maud Henon, a weaver of
tapestries, originally from
Belgium, was one of those
who added a sense of miracle.
For a long time I have wanted
to do a page about Maud Henon,
and I now have. I wish I had
more examples of her work to
illustrate what an amazing
weaver she was. She told me
often that she wanted to leave
work that her children (or
perhaps she had only one son, I forget) would be proud of
her.
Gosh, I really loved being a Realtor! (even with all the hard
work and sometimes disappointments, not to mention the
long spells that sometimes occurred between commissions).
Finally one day I was sitting at my desk, writing a check for
my car payment, when I realized that finally, and for the first
time in years, I did not have to worry about money.
Mexican, then sold and produced yellow pages ads for the
alternative Phone Book, and then sold ads on the trolleys.
The trolley people didn't pay me my commissions and I was
extremely poor for about a year, then I decided to sell real
estate since that was more regulated and I would be safer in
terms of being paid commissions I earned.
In this picture I'm standing by the fireplace in a listing of
mine on Camino Santander, in the Canyon Road area of
Santa Fe.
I loved selling real estate and tended to be the top producer in
my office. I worked long hours, almost all weekends, and
seldom took any time off.
I would hand write picture postcards of my listings in the
belief that the more clearly I thought about them, the more
likely it would be that someone would call on my ads.
My first year I made $5,000, then the next year I slept on the
office sofa and house-sat for several months when I didn't
have money to keep my apartment. Finally, by saving the
money I would otherwise have spent on rent, I had the
money to buy my condo and what a trip that turned out to be.
There were so many people that
I loved working with in their
search to buy or sell a home.
Maud Henon, a weaver of
tapestries, originally from
Belgium, was one of those
who added a sense of miracle.
For a long time I have wanted
to do a page about Maud Henon,
and I now have. I wish I had
more examples of her work to
illustrate what an amazing
weaver she was. She told me
often that she wanted to leave
work that her children (or
perhaps she had only one son, I forget) would be proud of
her.
Gosh, I really loved being a Realtor! (even with all the hard
work and sometimes disappointments, not to mention the
long spells that sometimes occurred between commissions).
Finally one day I was sitting at my desk, writing a check for
my car payment, when I realized that finally, and for the first
time in years, I did not have to worry about money.
But, I was completely wrong about it
being the end of my money worries
because IRS began levying me for
1984 which I had paid in 1985, and in
time IRS put me out of business.
I traded a fur coat I had used when
showing land for these signs which I
put up in a series on Siringo Road
where there is a lot of traffic.
The same legislators were voted back
in. Sigh. However, in time Congress
enacted some measures to reduce
abuse by IRS of taxpayers.
being the end of my money worries
because IRS began levying me for
1984 which I had paid in 1985, and in
time IRS put me out of business.
I traded a fur coat I had used when
showing land for these signs which I
put up in a series on Siringo Road
where there is a lot of traffic.
The same legislators were voted back
in. Sigh. However, in time Congress
enacted some measures to reduce
abuse by IRS of taxpayers.
I wrote about
a thousand
letters,
literally,
while I was
trying to
bring about
reform of the
IRS.
I wrote far
less
creatively but
I did have
my novel,
and I wrote
to Princess
Diana about
that (talking
about my
experience as
I wrote).
At that time I
received a
response to
about 3
letters of
every
hundred I
sent out.
Usually a
response
came in three
or so months
if I had
written to
someone well
known.
So, when I
received a
response
from
Princess
Diana's
secretary in
about two
weeks, I was
pretty totally
amazed.
I have
wondered
ever since
whether the
Princess
actually read
my letter,
held the
paper that I
had held and
read the
words that I
had written.
I thought she
might have
because the
answer came
so quickly.
But then
again, maybe
I was
flattering
myself that
she would
read a letter
from me.
You can see
from the date
at the top of
my letter,
when I began
it, to the date
at the end,
that it took
me a long
time to write
and post this
letter.
a thousand
letters,
literally,
while I was
trying to
bring about
reform of the
IRS.
I wrote far
less
creatively but
I did have
my novel,
and I wrote
to Princess
Diana about
that (talking
about my
experience as
I wrote).
At that time I
received a
response to
about 3
letters of
every
hundred I
sent out.
Usually a
response
came in three
or so months
if I had
written to
someone well
known.
So, when I
received a
response
from
Princess
Diana's
secretary in
about two
weeks, I was
pretty totally
amazed.
I have
wondered
ever since
whether the
Princess
actually read
my letter,
held the
paper that I
had held and
read the
words that I
had written.
I thought she
might have
because the
answer came
so quickly.
But then
again, maybe
I was
flattering
myself that
she would
read a letter
from me.
You can see
from the date
at the top of
my letter,
when I began
it, to the date
at the end,
that it took
me a long
time to write
and post this
letter.
The
envelope
was of high
quality
paper. As
you can see
there was
no return
address on
the front.
On the
back flap
was what
looked to
me like
three little
hearts. I
could not
imagine
who the
letter could
be from.
envelope
was of high
quality
paper. As
you can see
there was
no return
address on
the front.
On the
back flap
was what
looked to
me like
three little
hearts. I
could not
imagine
who the
letter could
be from.
When I moved from Santa Fe, New Mexico to Monterey, California in
the 60s I found a room in a home with a lovely yard that sloped toward
Monterey Bay. I rented it. My first night there, the first time I'd been
alone, away from friends entirely, I bought a newspaper. All my life my
mother had said I ought to read the paper, which advice I had mostly
ignored.
Alone in my room, I picked up the paper and there, in a small article on
the front page was a notice saying Allan Blair Kline had died. He was my
grandfather. I kept awake all that night in honor of him.
I had not known him well, though I had asked him to borrow $500 to buy
a car when I was in University, and he had lent me the money in an
agreement of my suggestion that I would write to him every month and
send $50 toward repayment with my letter.
When I was graduating and the last payment was due, he said he couldn't
come to my graduation because he was giving the Commencement
Address at Columbia, I think it was, and he said I didn't have to pay the
last payment. (I think Grandmother Kline's sister had graduated from
Columbia.)
Grandmother Kline's sister had run a school for kids who had difficulty
learning, and my father had been sent to her when he had not been able
to adapt to school as well as his older brother, Robert, and younger sister,
Winifred. My mother, who admittedly was bitter after he deserted, said
that the three children had not spoken any known language when they
went to school, that they had their own language because their parents
were too busy on the farm to talk to them, and too eager for the bedroom
at night.
My grandfather left the family farm, called Wellaway, to Robert, I forget
what he left Winifred, and he left $30,000 each to my brother and me,
held in trust with my grandmother till her death, with nothing going to my
father, presumably because my grandfather had sent my mother money
every month after my father deserted, was picked up by the police and
held until my mother agreed to drop desertion charges.
the 60s I found a room in a home with a lovely yard that sloped toward
Monterey Bay. I rented it. My first night there, the first time I'd been
alone, away from friends entirely, I bought a newspaper. All my life my
mother had said I ought to read the paper, which advice I had mostly
ignored.
Alone in my room, I picked up the paper and there, in a small article on
the front page was a notice saying Allan Blair Kline had died. He was my
grandfather. I kept awake all that night in honor of him.
I had not known him well, though I had asked him to borrow $500 to buy
a car when I was in University, and he had lent me the money in an
agreement of my suggestion that I would write to him every month and
send $50 toward repayment with my letter.
When I was graduating and the last payment was due, he said he couldn't
come to my graduation because he was giving the Commencement
Address at Columbia, I think it was, and he said I didn't have to pay the
last payment. (I think Grandmother Kline's sister had graduated from
Columbia.)
Grandmother Kline's sister had run a school for kids who had difficulty
learning, and my father had been sent to her when he had not been able
to adapt to school as well as his older brother, Robert, and younger sister,
Winifred. My mother, who admittedly was bitter after he deserted, said
that the three children had not spoken any known language when they
went to school, that they had their own language because their parents
were too busy on the farm to talk to them, and too eager for the bedroom
at night.
My grandfather left the family farm, called Wellaway, to Robert, I forget
what he left Winifred, and he left $30,000 each to my brother and me,
held in trust with my grandmother till her death, with nothing going to my
father, presumably because my grandfather had sent my mother money
every month after my father deserted, was picked up by the police and
held until my mother agreed to drop desertion charges.
Picture taken from a biography
Grandpa Ambrose's father, my great grandfather and Miguel's great great
grandfather, Wilhelm, is second on the left. Grandpa Ambrose, when he
was a young man, is on the right. Wilhelm was a farmer. The other two
men are Hopka cousins through Wilhelm's wife's side of the family.
grandfather, Wilhelm, is second on the left. Grandpa Ambrose, when he
was a young man, is on the right. Wilhelm was a farmer. The other two
men are Hopka cousins through Wilhelm's wife's side of the family.
My grandmother Kline, Gladys, survived her husband by several
decades. When she died the $30,000 that had been left to me went to my
father. So, I never saw it, except in the gratitude I felt to my grandfather
for remembering me.
It was Grandmother Kline's great, etc. great grandfather, John Robinson,
who led the Pilgrims out of Scrooby, England.
decades. When she died the $30,000 that had been left to me went to my
father. So, I never saw it, except in the gratitude I felt to my grandfather
for remembering me.
It was Grandmother Kline's great, etc. great grandfather, John Robinson,
who led the Pilgrims out of Scrooby, England.
The pictures on this page show a kind of family root system.
Roots make a tremendous difference to development, at least in some
plants, and I suspect in many, if not most people.
Above you see two pots of Egyptian onions, planted on the same day in
soil that is about the same in each of the two pots. But the pot on the left
is deeper and therefore allows more roots to develop. You can see how
much larger the onions are in the pot on the left where they appear to be
thriving with their larger root systems. Plus, I pulled all the largest leaves
from the pot on the left to use in my brown rice. I pulled none from the
pot of the right. Had I pulled no leaves from either set of plants the
difference would be even more dramatic.
Roots make a tremendous difference to development, at least in some
plants, and I suspect in many, if not most people.
Above you see two pots of Egyptian onions, planted on the same day in
soil that is about the same in each of the two pots. But the pot on the left
is deeper and therefore allows more roots to develop. You can see how
much larger the onions are in the pot on the left where they appear to be
thriving with their larger root systems. Plus, I pulled all the largest leaves
from the pot on the left to use in my brown rice. I pulled none from the
pot of the right. Had I pulled no leaves from either set of plants the
difference would be even more dramatic.
I didn't know how I was going to get back to the United
States with Miguel, but after I dreamed that I swam back
despite my fear of water, I knew that I, if by myself, would
indeed get back.
Miguel was "in care" and leaving without him was physically
draining. On the plane the stewardesses thought I had fear of
flying because of how I looked, and they kept bringing me
water and things.
This picture was taken by Marcia at her and her husband
Dick Bell's house in New Hampshire. I had flown in to
Boston. I remember how absolutely happy it made me to see
fire hydrants again. (They don't have them in England.)
I do not know how I would have gotten back without Marcia
Bell nee Mueller.
States with Miguel, but after I dreamed that I swam back
despite my fear of water, I knew that I, if by myself, would
indeed get back.
Miguel was "in care" and leaving without him was physically
draining. On the plane the stewardesses thought I had fear of
flying because of how I looked, and they kept bringing me
water and things.
This picture was taken by Marcia at her and her husband
Dick Bell's house in New Hampshire. I had flown in to
Boston. I remember how absolutely happy it made me to see
fire hydrants again. (They don't have them in England.)
I do not know how I would have gotten back without Marcia
Bell nee Mueller.
Twins, Anna Skalski and Margaret Golomski, were Grandpa Ambrose's
sisters.
The picture was taken at Aunt Anna's, not far from Grandma and
Grandpa's house in Stevens Point.
Aunt Margaret had a general store in a little town, whose name I forget.
sisters.
The picture was taken at Aunt Anna's, not far from Grandma and
Grandpa's house in Stevens Point.
Aunt Margaret had a general store in a little town, whose name I forget.
Marcie, on the left, is Aunt Anna's daughter. She's with her husband Bob
Kolacki, On the right is Arlene, who is Aunt Margaret's daughter. She's
with her husband, Paul Zie.
Kolacki, On the right is Arlene, who is Aunt Margaret's daughter. She's
with her husband, Paul Zie.
Marcie, again, and Bill Golomski, Aunt Margaret's son.
Bill was a statistician and had a newsletter on Quality. He traveled all
over the world with his work and used to call me regularly for quite a
long time when I was back in the United States. It was he who told me,
before I began my novel, that writing three pages a day was the best way
to accomplish a complete work. I did that, and I must say, it worked
very well. (Though my novel is incomplete because I didn't understand
some of what I was writing about.
Bill was a statistician and had a newsletter on Quality. He traveled all
over the world with his work and used to call me regularly for quite a
long time when I was back in the United States. It was he who told me,
before I began my novel, that writing three pages a day was the best way
to accomplish a complete work. I did that, and I must say, it worked
very well. (Though my novel is incomplete because I didn't understand
some of what I was writing about.
I put most of the pictures on this page after Miguel wanted to know about
his family.
his family.
The last time I saw my cousin John
Skalski, many years later, was in Seattle
when I was visiting Marcia. He took me
to lunch at Ray's on the wharf, where
the seafood was excellent. As we were
leaving I or he knocked over a glass of
water and he caught it before it could
descend into shards on the floor. People
at other tables actually applauded.
Skalski, many years later, was in Seattle
when I was visiting Marcia. He took me
to lunch at Ray's on the wharf, where
the seafood was excellent. As we were
leaving I or he knocked over a glass of
water and he caught it before it could
descend into shards on the floor. People
at other tables actually applauded.
John took this picture of Miguel and me on Hampstead Heath
or Parliament Hill. I love the Post Office Tower in the
background: its address was a classified secret -- revealing it
was treasonable, as I remember it. But, there it was when
you looked at the skyline... so, how secret was that?
My coat is perhaps the most beautiful I have owned. I bought
it from a lady whose husband was governor or a senator, I
forget. I rented a room from her when I was waitressing in
Albuquerque before I moved to London. I think her home
has an historical plaque now.
The coat was blond beaver and so lovely warm. But having
Miguel and not being married I could not say, "Beaver,"
when someone asked me what kind of fur it was, so I put the
coat out for the dustbin men, who gathered round discussing
it for some time before they actually took it.
or Parliament Hill. I love the Post Office Tower in the
background: its address was a classified secret -- revealing it
was treasonable, as I remember it. But, there it was when
you looked at the skyline... so, how secret was that?
My coat is perhaps the most beautiful I have owned. I bought
it from a lady whose husband was governor or a senator, I
forget. I rented a room from her when I was waitressing in
Albuquerque before I moved to London. I think her home
has an historical plaque now.
The coat was blond beaver and so lovely warm. But having
Miguel and not being married I could not say, "Beaver,"
when someone asked me what kind of fur it was, so I put the
coat out for the dustbin men, who gathered round discussing
it for some time before they actually took it.
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