FriendsofLorig@gmail.com ask for your support!

Lorig Charkoudian (on left) running for Maryland's District 20 Delegate,

goes door to door as she begins her campaign.

Dear Marash Girl, Over the last few months, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting many  of you in person while knocking on doors in your neighborhood.  I learned a lot about your concerns: the educational opportunities  for your children, the preservation of the environment, and economic  justice for the everyone in our community.You also shared with me  the things that you love most about living in District 20, and as the  holiday season approaches, I’m thinking a lot about all we have to be  thankful for. There’s a rich sense of inclusiveness in our communities-- cultural diversity is one of our District’s greatest strengths. We are so  fortunate to have a community committed to building a better world.  I am inspired by the social change agents who live in District 20 and  spend every day of their lives working to make this world  a better place. And we can’t forget about our beautiful parks  and waterways, including the Sligo Creek and Northwest Branch, the  Martin Luther King Jr. Recreational Park, and our neighborhood parks,  that connect us to our beautiful planet and to each other. Finally, as  Veterans Day draws closer, we are grateful for our veterans and their  families for the sacrifices they have made and continue to make. There’s so much to love about being a resident in District 20, and I’m  committed to making sure that everyone who lives here has the  opportunity to enjoy everything our district has to offer. I have a  strong record of civic engagement in District 20, and I know that  I can help this district even more as your representative in Annapolis. It’s a huge task and I’m up for the challenge, but I need your help to  get there! Please volunteer to help spread the word about my campaign. You  can join me for the Silver Spring Thanksgiving Parade on November 18.  Volunteer Here. Our Yard Signs have arrived!  Let us know if you want a yard sign to show  your support and let your neighbors know about my candidacy.   E-mail friendsoflorig@gmail.com to have one delivered to your house.  Please make a contribution to my campaign so I can reach more voters.  Contribute Here. Please also join us for Star Wars Trivia Night. Thank you for all of your support! I hope that you will join my campaign so that  together we can enhance everything that we love about District 20 Maryland. Lorig

Paid for by Friends of Lorig Charkoudian, Jill Feasley, Treasurer, Tebabu Assefa, Chair

Friends of Lorig Charkoudian
P.O. Box 11281
Takoma Park MD 20913 United States

Picking Up After the Fray

A sad day, yesterday, as Marash Girl accompanied her friend, a friend who ran for political office and lost, accompanying her around the city, gathering her campaign signs from the lawns of those who had supported her.  The good news?  The signs are being saved for the next time around.  Marash Girl's friend is not giving up yet!

Councilor at Large Alan Ciccone greets Marash Girl

                           Councilor at Large Ward 1 

Newton's Ward One Councilor at Large, Alan Ciccone, greets Marash Girl
on Election Day at the polls in Newton Corner

A Prayer for Joan Who Worked for Justice - May 6, 1942 - November 2, 2013

The following prayer was written on November 6, 2016, in memory of my dear friend Joan Scully Metz; the piece was written by Joan's sister.

Loving God, As we gather today in love to remember Joan, we give you thanks for the years she was with us.  Guide us as you did her, to use the talents and skills you have so generously given us, to work in collaboration with others to bring change to those who suffer and are oppressed in this world.  Guide us to educate and advocate for other who are denied a voice.

Help us to be present to members of the global human family.

Help us to recognize the systems and structures that deny the dignity of the human person.  Help us to be engaged and fully focused so we may envision and develop effective strategies to further justice and to b your agents in this world.  Guide us to educate and advocate for others who are denied a voice.

Help us to be present to members of the global human family.  Help us to recognize the systems and structures that deny the dignity of the human person.  Help us to be engaged and fully focused so we may envision and develop effective strategies to further justice and to be your agents in this way.

Keep us aware of the bigger picture and move us beyond our own self-interest, who we may participate in solidarity with those who need our support.  

Help us to persist in the face of challenges.  Renew our hearts and remind us that your grace is working in us and through us, so we may play a small part in the building of your kingdom.  Help us to remember, with love, all that Joan has done for us, all that she taught us, all that she did for the least among us and for those who are suffering.  May the brightness of Joan's love and emil remain with us each day, and remind us all to put our love into action.

Remembering Joan Scully Metz

                                           Remembering my dear friend, Joan Scully Metz
                                                      May 6, 1942 - November 2, 2013

Save Local Representation in Newton, Massachusetts! Vote No!

                Save Local Representation in Newton, Massachusetts!  Vote No on Charter Change!

Better Late Than Never! But Where Are The Bears?

Halloween Day, Bear's Neck, Rockport, Massachusetts 

             It seems that the bears had all turned into pumpkins in order to celebrate Halloween Day!

Her Favorite Color Is Black!

When Marash Girl's daughter LC was very little, she was in a play group at the YMCA.  Soon after joining this play group, her daughter alarmed the play group instructor, alarmed the instructor enough to prompt a phone call to Marash Girl.

"Hello," said Marash Girl.
"Hello," replied the play group instructor.  "I'm quite worried about your daughter."
"Really?" replied Marash Girl, unable to imagine the reason for the concern.
"Yes!  Do you know that your daughter's favorite color is black?" replied the play group instructor.
Marash Girl just laughed.  Her daughter was always alarming teachers with one comment or another!

Vote for Scott Lennon for Mayor of Newton, Massachusetts

Peter Koutoujian, Sherriff of Massachusetts Middlesex County, poses with Marash Girl (who is wearing her favorite color) at the Scott Lennon for Mayor headquarters in Newton Corner, Massachusetts

What Happened on the Day Before the Feast of All Saints in 1517?

Did you know that Martin Luther (the original) chose to perform his courageous deed on Marash Girl's birthday (many centuries earlier, of course) and it took her this long (a lifetime) to find out?  "On October 31, 1517, the day before the Feast of All Saints, the 33-year-old Martin Luther posted 95 theses on the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg, challenging the Roman Catholic Church."  A courageous deed in deed . . . a deed unequaled in its time or possibly since!

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween to all my friends, past and present!  Don't forget to stock up on candy for all those trick or treaters!

Remembering that Marash Girl's dad never allowed his children to go trick or treating, because, as he saw it, it was begging!  And his mom, even when they were starving during the first world war in Marash, would not allow them to stand in the line for the food that the missionaries were providing to the hungry.  She did not want her children to accept charity.  Grandma Yepros Kurtgusian Bilezikian worked at the missionary hospital for one loaf of bread a day.  That is what she and her children would eat.  God blessed them.  They survived to tell the tale!

Wakened in the Midst of the Storm

Marash Girl was wakened in the midst of the storm last night by her friends who were driving home from the Cape along the rain-tortured highways.  She stayed on the phone with one of them (not the driver!) until they arrived safely at home in Newton Corner.  What a hair-raising experience, even second-hand via the telephone!

Art in the Park

Art in the Park - Boston Public Gardens         Photo by Marash Girl

Making Democracy Work in Newton Corner at Underwood Elementary School!

                          Let the kids learn about democracy from their neighbors in real time!
                                               End of school day, Friday, October 27, 2017.

Victoria and Abdul

Saw Victoria and Abdul at the West Newton Cinema and loved it!

Me, too!

Marash Girl finds it rather interesting that the only folks who are commenting with hashtag "Me, too" are women.  How many men she has known who have been the recipient of sexual harassment.  Are they speaking up?  Or does sexual harassment experienced by men not count?

You're Right!

Whenever Grandpa Peter found himself in a roomful of folks who were vehemently disagreeing with each other, he would laughingly comment, "You're right, you're right, and you're right too!"  Marash Girl often wonders if Grandpa Peter was quoting an old Nasrettin Hodja tale, or if he was simply amused by the energy of the combatants!

Marash Girl Signs In!

  Reappointed to the City of Newton Parks and Recreation Commission, Marash Girl signs her acceptance at the Newton City Hall!

Wrong era!

Marash Girl was at a restaurant recently, and noticed the folks on the table in front of her with their heads bowed, praying (she thought) before eating.  On closer look, however, she realized they were studying the menu!  Wrong era!

Marash Boy at the Regatta!

Marash Boy at the Regatta, with the Charles River and the race going on behind him, 
studies the map, of course!

Memories of Our Childhood from Brother James on his birthday!

Happy Birthday to Brother James who on his birthday shares a letter he wrote 15 years ago to our Dad, Peter Bilezikian!

Dear Dad: 

I am very pleased that you liked the short story, Blossoms and Baseballs. I am hoping to write several more dealing with my childhood and the world of Lowell Avenue, the world of the Armenians flowing through our house, of Van Topalian, and the one word, ‘remarkable’, to which he ascribed things approved by him, of Harry Mooseghian, his natural awkwardness in doing all things physical, but his willing spirit, his shattered hulk of a car, symbolic of the devastation wrought by the Turks on his family prospects, and all the other people, mysterious, and marvelous, that my parents’ hospitality and curiosity welcomed into our home. 

Our home was a fecund garden for a young boy intent on sailing the world and visiting the people of the ports, some backward, some gallant, some heroic and humble, others who were charlatans and savages with city clothes. In all this parade of the human throng there was never danger. A boy could be in the midst of all this and never be threatened by it, because the setting was our home, in which you and mother provided us, like in the original garden, with every good thing to eat for our body and our soul. All of that goodness, that trickery, that pridefulness that strutted, that humility that walked simply upright through our home, was to be tasted in morsels the understanding of which promised to be the fiber of manhood. 

The violin and the bow always lay close behind all of this, because in the midst of this sometime crush of the human spirit, you would call for music from the souls and bodies of your children. Whatever strange and dangerous, brittle and base, lofty and incontinent, that might be parading itself that day in our home of hospitality would be brought back to the cloud of heaven with the single note, and the many notes thereafter that would fall like rain on a spring morning. All would be made right, because the children, like cherubs heralding our August God, playing with heart and humor, steadfastness of purpose, and the zeal to please, would in an instant vanquish the memory of the Turks, the evil of the world, the disarray of the downcast. 

In our home not only flourished an extended family, but an extended garden, a garden that reached back through the generations. It was a garden of the spirit, and the spirit made flesh, of 400 olive trees planted by Grandpa Moses, of great grandfather Sarkis’s conversion to a living faith, of the desire by Uncle Vartan to share the Good News, whatever the cost, of the Bilezikian vineyard in the cool of the summer mountains, of the stones made into bread by the love and faith of 

Grandma Yepros, of the courage of Grandpa Moses whose shepherd status was challenged by the bandits from the hills, at the cost of their lives and their horses. All this was a tapestry, a magic one, for a boy growing up in a family of electricians, who transformed the wire and current of their livelihoods into a garden that filled every niche of their land and their home. 

Sent from my iPhone

New England in October

A beautiful October's day in New England.  Enjoy!

100th Anniversary of the Women's Club of Newton Highlands!

Yesterday, Marash Girl was invited to the 100th Anniversary Celebration of the Women's Club of Newton Highlands, Massachusetts.  Unfortunately, New TV was not there to cover the occasion, but the Women of Newton Highlands, and Marash Girl were there!

Bad artist!

Growing up with books -- books everywhere, books always -- Marash Girl's children loved books.  When they loved the story, but objected to the way in which the artist had depicted the story, they simply slapped the image on the page and stated, "Bad artist!  Good story!"

Composting à la Adrien

Years ago, Adrien Parsekian of Troy, New York (I think . . . not sure of the spelling of his first name) showed me a new style of composting.  Beginning in one corner of his back yard, he would dig a hole slightly smaller than  the circumference of his original antique garbage pail cover.  In that hole he would throw vegetable and fruit peelings and leavings (his compost), throwing over the leavings a shovel full of dirt  and covering the hole with the antique garbage pail cover so that no animals could get at the would be compost.  He would add to the compost daily with vegetable and fruit peelings and soil (no meat or products containing meat).  As soon as the hole was nearly full, he would fill it to the brim with soil, cover it with a rock or two so that no animal could dine in, and then Adrien would dig another hole in his back yard and start the process all over again.  It was a brilliant method of composting.  Adrien . . . are you still composting in this manner? Do you have the most lush grass/garden in the neighborhood?

Whenever someone would make a stupid comment . . .

Whenever someone would made a stupid comment in the presence of Marash Girl's father, her father would comment, "Allah seni akul versin, banga para."  Translation?  "May God give you brains and me money!" ... a favorite expression of  those Marashtsi Armenians who had survived the early 20th century genocide of Armenians in Turkey . . . and survived to tell (or in most cases not tell) the tale!  How they still managed to keep their sense of humor after going through those horrors is difficult to fathom!

As luck would have it . . .

Marash Girl and Marash Boy spent a lovely evening with old friends in the heart of Brookline Village -- completely last minute, completely unplanned . . . Are those not the loveliest of evenings?

Happy Birthday, Meghan!

                                      Happy Birthday, Dear Meghan, Happy Birthday to you!

l. to r.   Deron, Dylan Marie, and Meghan dining at Le Pain Quotidien 
 earlier this year in Battery Park City (NYC)!

The Dead Space

While at Columbia Teachers College,  Marash Girl's professor gave her the phone number of the Yonkers Department of Education, encouraging her to call for an interview.  Every time Marash Girl dialed the number, she arrived in a "dead space" . . . a place where there was no sound, no sound except for other voices saying, "Hello?  Hello?"  Not one of the voices had reached the expected telephone destination --  in fact, it was almost as if the telephone company had created, unintentionally, of course, an old-fashioned party line, though none of the folks that reached that "dead space" had any idea how or why they had reached it.  But as things turned out, we all got to know each other, called into the dead space regularly, and became good telephone friends, good enough so that we decided we should meet at one of the inexpensive local restaurants.  We did.  And there was the "rub".  There is where Marash Girl met, and was romanced by the confused fellow that she wrote about in yesterday's blog.  Well, ya gotta meet guys somewhere, right?

The happy ending to the story?  Marash Girl did finally find the correct phone number for the Yonkers Department of Education, arranged for an interview, and was hired as a guidance counselor!

"I've never felt this way about a woman before!"

"I've never felt this way about a woman before!"
So there she was, having heard those words after he had kissed her that evening . . . day after day, awaiting his call.  But he never called.  What had happened?  She remembered clearly what he had said to her.  Okay.  She'd have to call into the dead space again. (More on the dead space in the next blog post.)  His friend answered.

"Oh," his friend said. "Didn't you know?  He rooms with his professor."
"So?" queried Marash Girl.
"He shares a bedroom with his professor."
"So?" queried Marash Girl.
"He shares a bed with his professor, and his professor will kill him if he ever finds out what happened between you two!"
"Oh," whispered Marash Girl.

N.B.  Never saw this fellow again!  Hope his professor didn't kill him!

Advice from the Ocean, Main Street, Newburyport, Massachusetts

Trying desperately to hold onto the summer, Marash Girl shares advice from an August day in Newburyport . . .
"Adapt to changing tides.""Be shore of yourself."  "Don't be shellfish."  "Take time to coast."  "Sea life's beauty."  "Let your cares drift away."  "Don't get tide down." "Harbor strength and persevere."  "Bet on a shore thing."  Surf life's rough waves."  "Come out of your shell."  "Seas every opportunity."  "Avoid pier pressure."  "Make waves & love."

Back to Daily Posting!

Sorry for the mini-vacation, but Marash Girl was off visiting her grandchildren in Takoma Park, Maryland, and has chosen to use that as an excuse for her lapse in writing.  But never fear, she's back again, hopefully with some well-chosen tidbits to share!  For today?  A few photos taken on her front porch this morning to show what she's been up to. And since it's Sunday, guess where it all went?You guessed it!  To the church for their upcoming flea market!

At Least One Barn Left Standing . . .

                                                                                                                          Photo by Marash Girl
 At least one Newtonville barn has survived the 20th Century Barn Burning in Newton, Massachusetts

This barn still stands on a street north of Washington Street in Newtonville,
behind the spot where Grandpa Moses's pool room once stood.

"Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter."

"Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter."  MLK    
Photo credit: Lorig Charkoudian, Washington, DC

Boy Scout Helps Little Old Lady Across The Street

One of Marash Girl's favorite stories is about the Boy Scout who was intent on helping a little old lady cross the street.  No matter how much the little old lady insisted that she needed no help crossing the street, the Boy Scout persisted, determined to help the little old lady cross the street.  Finally, having achieved his goal, the little old lady turned to the Boy Scout saying, "But I didn't want to cross the street!"

A Reposting from Facebook

Years ago, Kenar and Marash Girl collected Armenian Nursery Rhymes from Medzmama when the little ones were little.  Those rhymes are somewhere deep in the files, to be discovered one day (soon, Marash Girl hopes).  In the meantime, please accept this reposting from Facebook with thanks to Maro Nercessian Katalaris.  Can anyone out there provide a translation?

Maro Nercessian Katalaris 2:54am Aug 4 Armenian Nursery Rhyme/ Lullaby Aintab mothers said to their children. Remember Armenian language was spoken differently back then. Djor, Djor, Djor Mama, Djorig maman jam g'erta Gorgod abour bish enna, Yeghe vran khesh enna. Kkachon oude, josh enna, Lop, Lop Ashenna.

Stopping by Water on a Sunny Sunday (With a nod to Robert Frost)

Years ago, folks (including Marash Girl's family) would go for a ride, driving west along the old Boston Road (now Route 20).  They would stop at springs along the way, springs along the roadside, to fill their gallon-sized jugs,  jugs folks always carried with them in their cars, thermos jugs with spouts from which clear, cool spring water would flow hours later at the picnic grounds.  There were no Howard Johnson's, no Macdonald's.  Just a big picnic basket and a big thermos jug, and a car full of happy people, three generations of happy people.

"SHAME ON NAUSET CONSTRUCTION"

Common Street, Belmont, Massachusetts:  "Shame on Nauset Construction"  

Why? What's going on?

THE END OF AN ERA

A RE-POSTING WITH SYMPATHIES TO THOSE SUFFERING HURRICANE HARVEY

Originally posted Sunday, August 28, 2011

Hurricane Harvey: Police Cars, Police Boats, Police Helicopters

There's a hurricane coming, and the police are going through coastal neighborhoods to warn folks to leave their homes while they still can.

A police car approaches a house along the rising waters where a man is sitting and rocking on his porch.  Come with us, said the police.  The waters are rising and your life is in danger.  There's a hurricane coming.

Don't worry, answered the man.  God promises that He will take care of me.

Hours pass, the waters rise, and the man has moved to the second floor of his house where he is sitting in a rocking chair and looking out of the window.

A police boat approaches.  Come with us, said the police.  The waters are rising and your life is in danger.

Don't worry, answered the man.  I'm stayhing right here.  God promises that He will take care of me.

The waters continue rising, and the man is now sitting on his roof, waiting patiently.

A police helicopter hovers over the roof and drops a ladder down to the lonely man.   Come with us, said the police.  Your life is in danger.  The waters are rising and will soon cover your house.

Don't worry, answered the man.  God promises that He will take care of me.

Soon the waters cover the roof of the house, the man drowns and goes to Heaven.

St. Peter comes to the gates.  Yes, what can I do for you?

I want to speak with God, said the man, a bit annoyed.  One moment, said St. Peter.  Come with me.

When the man sees God, he asks, God, what happened?  You promised you would take care of me, and here I am, dead.

God answers, I sent you a police car, a police boat and a police helicopter! What more did you want?

At WBUR's Fundraiser 2016

WBUR's Tom Ashbrook in center of photo

Thanks to Martha McCool for finding the above photo on WBUR's website.

Are you a NIMBY?

Marash Girl had never heard the expression NIMBY before Wednesday night!  In case you haven't heard, the letters mean, NOT IN MY BACK YARD, referring to folks who support subsidized, mixed income housing in the suburbs, but not in their corner of the woods!

Don't Forget the Baking Powder!

What a difference a teaspoon of baking powder makes!  In her rush to make banana bread for Arax's birthday party, Marash Girl forgot to add the baking powder!  The banana bread tasted great, but its texture was more like chewy cardboard.  Sorry, Arax!

Happy Birthday, Arax!

                                                        Pears from the pear trees in Wilbraham.

If you're going shopping with your husband . . .

If you're going shopping with your husband, make sure you stay together.  Marash Boy and Marash Girl made the mistake of splitting up to speed the process up, and guess what happened?  We bought two of everything, of course!

Did you know?

Did you know that if a pedestrian is standing on the corner on the sidewalk, waiting to cross the street at a crosswalk, an automobile may not drive across that cross walk?  Marash Girl was kindly reminded of the fact as she attempted to make her way up Highland Avenue, yesterday, from Walnut Street.  It took her longer than she thought to arrive at the Bablouzian household to offer her condolences for Barkev's passing.  In fact, it was probably Barkev from on high who whispered in the ear of the "arresting officer", the arresting officer who finally agreed to allow Marash Girl to proceed to Barkev's home with only a warning in hand.

"Ask not for whom the bell tolls . . . "

This morning, Marash Boy asked Marash Girl, "What time is your funeral?"

She shouted back, "I don't know what time MY funeral is, but Barkev's funeral services are at 11 o'clock this morning."

Barkev, may God rest your soul.

Cousins at Barkev's Hokjiash, basement of Armenian Memorial Church, Watertown, Massachusetts
  l.to r. Rosemary Gabonlyan Koch, Armen Barooshian, Pauline Bilezikian  Barooshian
Standing In Background: Salpi Bablouzian holding her great grandchild.

Kenar Braving the Total Eclipse of the Sun Yesterday!

Though all of us here in New England were warned not to look directly at the eclipse of the sun without adequate eye protection, few of us bothered to acquire said protection, but Kenar in Oregon sure did!

High Finance!

Marash Girl stopped at the end of a yard sale yesterday and found a jigsaw puzzle which had not yet been attempted, although the box was open and pieces in the box were loose, so she would have been taking a yard sale chance purchasing that particular puzzle, but chance it she would.  Speaking to the woman who was selling the puzzle, she asked if the woman would accept $1 rather than $3 for the puzzle -- after all, it was the end of the day, the puzzle was still sitting there, and the puzzle pieces were loose inside of the opened box.  Incensed, the owner of the puzzle answered, "Forget it.  I'll put the puzzle together myself next time I'm on the Cape!"  which is exactly when Marash Girl was planning to put that puzzle together. . .  

May God welcome you into His kingdom, Cousin Barkev

                                                                                                                                                              Photo by Marash Girl

May the Lord bless you and keep you,  may the Lord make His face to shine upon you and give you peace, dear cousin Barkev Bablouzian.

Photo by Marash Girl taken at a Marashtsi event many years ago.  (Possibly the 100th year commemoration of the Union of Marash Armenians.)  Barkev Bablouzian (his wife Salpi to his right)  pointing to a Marash embroidery that his mother Armenouhi Bilezikjian Bablouzian made.

Steaming Open an Envelope, Nancy Drew Style

While on vacation in Chatham, Marash Girl taught her grandson Raffi how Nancy Drew would have steamed open an envelope that had been sealed and needed to be secretly opened.  Here you see Raffi practicing what Marash Girl preached!

Tell it to the priest!

At a recent yard sale, a woman asked Marash Girl if she could have the candlesticks in question for 50 cents rather than $5.00 because the woman was buying it for her church.  Marash Girl replied, "If it's for the church, you can have it for free."  The woman insisted that she should be 50 cents for the candlesticks.  Marash Girl insisted that if the candlesticks were for the church, she should take them for free.  The woman, looking chagrined, walked away without the candlesticks.

Clearing Out . . .

Today, Marash Girl called the church to find out what they would like to have for donations for their "Attic Treasures" table at their upcoming bazaar.  She was told, "No books. No dish sets."  What's going on?  Would this suggest that folks are no longer reading books (at least not buying them, even at 50 cents each), or that folks are no longer eating out of china/glass dishes (only takeout)?  Or even worse, never entertaining at home?  Yikes. Have times changed!

"Hatred Has No Home Here" - Yesterday at the corner of Walnut and Beacon Streets, Newton, Massachusetts

Photo by unknown sister protestor
Counselor Scott Lennon, candidate for Mayor of Newton, Massachusetts, holds sign with Marash Girl proclaiming that "Hate Has No Home Here!" 

                                                                  

                                                                    "Love, Not Hate, Makes America Great!"               Photo by Marash Girl                             

                                                                                                               "Grandmothers for Peace!"                                   Photo by Marash Girl                                                                    

"No Room For Hate Anywhere!"

Calling Names

Calling names is as old as mankind . . . or at least as old as Marash Girl.  Starting early on, kids in the neighborhood would call each other names, or in other ways "out" them.  How were we taught to respond?  With the simple statement, "Sticks and stones will break my bones but names will never hurt me."  So sometimes the kids would reply to that by throwing sticks or stones!

Names will never hurt?  Depending on who you are, where you are, and who's calling you what names!

Freedom of Speech

The ongoing discussion about free speech brings to mind a discussion Marash Girl had with her mom and dad when she was nigh high to a grasshopper.

Her question:  "So is it okay if I tell someone that I think that their ugly?"

Camp Haiastan

Dancing to a live Armenian band at Camp Haiastan today brought back memories of the old days, the very old days, when the dance floors at the Armenian picnics would be crowded, young and old dancing to music from their ancient homeland.

The End of a Beautiful Vacation on Cape Cod

Marash Boy and Marash Girl drove Raffi to Liberty State Park where his mom picked him up.  It was the end of their wonderful vacation in Chatham on Old Cape Cod!

Paradise Clouded Over

It's always so much easier to leave paradise when it's clouded over!

At the Rubber Duckie Store, Chatham, Massachusetts

Raffi at the Rubber Ducky Store, Chatham, Massachusetts

"Donald Take Quack America!"

                                                      Believe it or not, Raffi had to struggle his way through the line at Chatham's rubber duckie store, past adults of all sizes and ages.  He survived to tell the tale!

Trouble in Paradise

Upon first arriving in Chatham, on the walkway above Lighthouse Beach,  Marash Girl noticed a plethora of TV cameras, police cars, and local gawkers.

Fearing the worst, Marash Girl tentatively approached one of the TV broadcasters and asked what was going on.  "See that boat over there?  The boat on the front lawn of the lighthouse?"

"Yes.  What about it?"

"They just found a dead body in that boat."

 

   

 And on to Tuesday morning when Marash Girl walked to the local Ocean State Job Lot to buy a cap with a bill to keep the sun out of her eyes on her morning walks -- (MG had forgotten hers at home . . . ), she got to talking with the check out lady about Saturday's occurrence.  Marash Girl asked, "What happened yesterday?"
The woman behind the counter answered.  "He was a friend of my son's. A wonderful boy.  He was married with a little three year old daughter.  But he was bipolar. When he went missing, his family thought he had gone to Puerto Rico, leaving his car here at the beach.  He was a friend of my son -- oh, my son works for the sheriff's department.  They're going to check this out, believe me!  Some say that the Coast Guard is at fault, as once the young man got inside of the boat, the lock system prevented him from any means of escape!"

The next day, Marash Girl met a women -- they were both waiting to see the play at the Monomoy Theatre in Chatham.  Her son was friends with the young man.  All of Chatham is grieving this tragedy.

Troubled In Paradise

Yesterday, Marash Girl came upon evidence of a troubled mind, a troubled mind in paradise.  Attempting to help her grandson find the perfect "skipping" stones for skimming across the surface of the glacial pond, rather than flat stones, Marash Girl found flat pieces of broken glass.  Her grandson barefoot beside her,  Marash Girl became concerned, and ran ahead of him as she gathered the broken glass.  Strange, it had not been there the year before.  It was not sea glass, smoothed by the action of water.  This glass was sharp edged; glass shards.

Where had the glass come from?  Soon she was to find the answer.

A man came walking along the shore, asking Marash Girl what she was seeking along the edge of the pond.  Marash Girl explained.  He answered,  "My wife comes down here every day to clear the pond edge of broken glass.  We don't know where it's coming from."  Commiserating with the gentleman, Marash Girl continued to pocket the small pieces of broken glass.  The gentleman left, but soon a woman arrived, the gentleman's wife.  She repeated the story her husband had told Marash Girl.  

"I come down here every day and, as best I can, clear the edges of the pond of broken glass."  

"Where could this glass be coming from?" Marash Girl queried.

The woman answered.  "I think it's someone with a very sick mind.  S/he must come down here daily with a bag of broken glass and sprinkle it along the edge of the pond."

"But why?"

Readers, if you have the answer, please comment below.

I'm so rich . . .

Three fellows walk out of a bar . . .

Says one:  "I'm so rich, I can burn $10," as he takes out a ten dollar bill and holds a lighted match to it.

Says the second:  "I'm so rich, I can burn $20," as he takes out a twenty dollar bill and holds a lighted match to it.

Says the third: "I'm so rich, I can burn a $100," as he takes out his check book and writes a check for one hundred dollars, and holds a lighted match to it.

Upon telling brother James the above joke, brother James replied, "I'm so rich because I never burn money, ever!"

Bored? Try a jigsaw puzzle!

           
 She was, and she did!  She completed this used once, 300 piece puzzle, the puzzle she had purchased on the first day of their Cape Cod vacation, while Marash Boy took a long summer's nap!  And, guess what?  There were no pieces missing!

Chatham: "All through the year, it's a holiday here!"

This structure was created for the 4th of July parade by artist Craig Phillips of Chatham, Massachusetts.  
Located on the corner of Route 28 and George Ryder Road,
the structure welcomes all to enjoy Chatham throughout the year.

Jigsaw Puzzles Mark Long Lazy Days

The first thing Marash Girl does when she is away on vacation is purchase a jigsaw puzzle -- at a yard sale, if she's lucky, the puzzle missing no pieces, if she's even luckier.  And this past week was no exception.  No sooner had they (Marash Girl and Marash Boy) turned the corner onto Indian Hill Road North but she saw -- yes -- a yard sale on the left, just before they had to take a right -- a yard sale that she would not have seen (and would that have made Marash Boy happy) had the sale occurred on the next block.

A yard sale at the end of the day, you say?

Yes!  When folks are trying to give away all that did not sell . . . and what was sitting there unsold but the making of her favorite vacation pastime (for those late nights, early mornings, or rainy days . . . rainy days on a vacation in New England?  Never (-:) !  You guessed it!  A jigsaw puzzle.  Granted, not a puzzle of the ocean or a lighthouse, but a puzzle of a "Riverfest"!  And as it's looking like rain outside (not inside, of course), Marash Girl just might finish that puzzle today, a week before her vacation ends.  She's wondering if another jigsaw puzzle will present itself before she has to leave for home . . .

110 IN THE SHADE

To celebrate Marash Boy's birthday, Marash Girl invited Marash Boy to the Monomoy Theatre in Chatham to see "110 in the Shade", a musical with Sarah Killough and Gregory Rodriguez in the lead roles and a live orchestra above the stage (NOT in the pit, where orchestra's are usually relegated) . . . Marash Girl's invitation was made with some trepidation, as Marash Boy is not known to "love" musicals; nevertheless, the invitation was made and accepted . . . much to everyone's joy!

The Monomoy Theatre's presentation of "110 in the Shade" is not to be missed.  The acting, the live orchestration, the singing, the cast, the performance as a whole was spectacular.

Granted, Marash Girl had secured front row seats in honor of Marash Boy's birthday, and still there were no flaws to be noted . . . no flaws whatsoever!

Based on the play, THE RAINMAKER, the show never ceased to entertain.

If you're on the Cape or near Chatham, go see THE RAINMAKER!  You won't be sorry!

Happy Birthday, Marash Boy!

                        Celebrating Marash Boy's birthday at Wequassett Resort, Harwich

A curse or a blessing?

Thursday, wandering around Star Market looking for fresh fruit, Marash Girl happened upon a young woman who stood tall.  Something alerted her to speak to the young woman: "You're very beautiful."
Responding to Marash Girl's compliment, the young woman began recounting her struggle (and success) with overcoming an addiction to prescription medicine, prescription medicine that her doctors continued to prescribe.

The encounter reminded Marash Girl of her time in the hospital when the doctors prescribed Morphine to MG.  What it did to MG's head, she cannot describe.  "Can't you just give me aspirin?" she asked.  "No," they assured MG; "the aspirin will make you bleed."
"Well, I'm not taking this morphine.  I'd rather have the pain than deal with the effects that the morphine is causing in my head!" countered Marash Girl!

And we wonder why addiction is becoming so rampant!

Ann Campbell, May You Rest In Peace

                                                                                                       Photo by Marash Girl
Above, WBUR volunteer Ann Campbell (may she rest in peace) chats with Zack Ezor, WBUR's Coordinator  of volunteers at a WBUR fundraiser several years ago.  
Ann, we'll miss you!  

                   "May the Lord bless you and keep you, may the Lord 

                     make his face to shine upon you and give you peace."

                           

The Lucky Ones: Enjoying Colorado

The photographer needs to be in this photo as well, but he must have been
"enjoying the view" too much to set the camera on automatic and look at the camera rather than the view!

Emptying the Warehouse

Great exercise, both physically and emotionally!

Don't wish your life away!

When Deron was a little boy, he would wait with bated breath for the next holiday, be it Thanksgiving, Christmas, his birthday, summer vacation . . .   His mother, mean mother that she was, completely without empathy for his excitement, would invariably say, "Don't wish your life away!"

Is that what happens when we forget what it's like to be a child?

What's wrong with these pancakes?

Making pancakes this Sunday morning reminded Marash Girl of a true story that her Aunt Zabelle related to her many years ago, a story Aunt Zabelle's best friend, Mrs. Evans, had told Aunt Zabelle.
According to Mrs. Evans, her young son Burt used to make pancakes for the family every Sunday morning, but one Sunday morning, the family was away on vacation, and went out to a restaurant to order . . . you guessed it . . . pancakes!

Burt took the first bite of his restaurant prepared pancake and paused, fork in air.  "These don't taste right!" he commented.  Mrs. Evans laughed.  The pancakes didn't taste right . . . they didn't taste like Burt's pancakes,  because the restaurant's pancakes were not burned!

THE QUICKEST WAY TO THE HOSPITAL

Years ago, right after church, cousin David and Marash Girl were hanging out on the sidewalk waiting for our parents when a car pulled up and asked for the quickest way to the hospital.  Cousin David, without hesitation, answered, "See that telephone pole over there?  Just crash right into it!"

You're too religious!

After hearing the results of the presidential election, Marash Girl fled to the local McDonald's to "drown her sorrows", as it were.  Upon settling at one of the window side tables, she heard folks speaking Armenian behind her, applauding the promised political efforts at keeping refugees out of this country. When she turned around to address, the speakers, she engaged them in discussion by quoting Jesus who said, "What you do unto the least of these, you do unto me!"

They're answer?

"You're too religious!"

Matthew 25:40

And  the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you,  Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren,  ye have done it unto me.

Attending Jim's Memorial Service on Old Cape Cod

It was Thursday, a perfect Cape Cod day; Marash Girl and Marash Boy in Chatham to attend a memorial service for their good friend, Jim Patriquin.  And they did.  They remembered Jim so well as did all of his friends.  A wonderful man, Jim.  And sorely missed.

Following the service, Marsh Girl and Marash Boy headed back to their little cabin off of Pleasant Street in Chatham --  a cabin that reminded Marash Girl of the days she spent as a child in Rumney, New Hampshire.  A simple cabin in the woods, with an outdoor shower, and the beach a half mile walk down the street.

Marash Boy dutifully parked the old Volvo station wagon behind the cabin to ensure that the rutted dirt road around the cabin would be free for others visiting the cabin enclave.  And that, as they say, was where the "rubber hit the road", or rather, in this scenario, the radiator hit a boulder and the water flowed out of the radiator and made the grass below the car very happy, but the driver of the car very unhappy.

Thanks to AAA, Marash Boy was able to arrange a ride (for the car and its passengers), the car on the back of the tow truck, the owners on the front seat of the tow truck, all the way back to Newton, safe and sound.  The passengers, that is.  The car ended up in the repair shop, for how long, they have yet to learn!

Setti Warren for Governor

              Volunteers gather in the basement of a Newton Centre home to make telephone calls encouraging folks to consider voting for 

               Setti Warren for Governor of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

The Pink Barn

Little Girl:  What's that?

Marash Girl: A barn!

Little Girl:  Why isn't it painted red?

Marash Girl:  You can paint your barn whatever color you want!

Little Girl:  When I grow up and have a barn, I'm going to paint my barn pink!

Newton the 65th safest city in the country?

Hey, Marash Girl remembers when the folks in Newton never locked their doors!  Not so today!

Advice from a local policeman:  No home is safe from burglary, unless you have nothing the burglar wants!  And there's the answer to a safe home!

"Do as I say!"

"Do as I say!  Not as I do!" So spoke Peter, Marash Girl's father, when Marash Girl was old enough to begin questioning his orders by quipping, "But you do that!"  How dared she speak to her father that way?  Well, he did teach her to speak up for the right!

We miss you, Daddy!

Do you live the perfect life?

One day, five year old Marash Girl came home from church (the United Armenian Brethren Evangelical Church of Watertown, Massachusetts) with a handful of religious tracts.  Soon after Sunday dinner, she headed out the front door with the tracts clutched in her little hand.

"Where are you going?"  asked her father.

"I'm going to tell our neighbors about Jesus," she answered.

"When folks ask you what is it in your life that makes you live as you do, then you can tell them about Jesus.  But until then, don't talk. Live the life."

Do I have a deal for you!

Telephone rings. . .

Peter:  Hello?

Salesman:  Do I have a deal for you!  I can get you $10 for every $1 you invest!

Peter:  Sorry.  I invest $10 to make $1.  Goodbye!

Composting and Grandpa Peter

Grandpa Peter took composting very seriously, way before composting was the fashion for gardeners.  Grandma Jennie took composting as seriously as Grandpa Peter, and would save every scrap of vegetable leavings for the compost pile.  Grandpa Peter would grind fallen sticks and leaves and add those to the compost pile.  What lush soil was gifted to the garden as a result.  Not a scrap of vegetable was wasted; if it wasn't eaten, it was in the garden to enrich this season's vegetables.  Oh, for those good old days . .  . and those good old garden fresh vegetables!

Honesty is the Best Policy!

Overheard:

Tom:  You look great!

Joy:  Yes, but it takes longer than it used to!

What's Going On With The Sparrows?

Yesterday, walking home from the bank, I felt a sparrow (deliberately) skim over the top of my head as it flew to a low branch that hovered over the sidewalk.  

What's going on with the sparrows these days?  Is it the humidity that's getting to them?  

Anyone else experiencing sparrow attacks?

Yet Another Message From the Heavens?

Yesterday, at noon, waiting for the bus to Springfield at Framingham Shoppers World, Marash Boy and Marash Girl took shelter from the sun by standing under the shade of a maple tree.  Very soon, however, a large chunk of bread (which appears to be a very small chunk of bread in the upper left corner of the photo below) bounced off of Marash Boy's head and landed in the parking lot, thanks no doubt to some ne'er do well sparrow who had dropped the chunk as he flew out of the tree.  What is going on?  (See previous blogs for July 8th and 9th.)

Bread in upper left corner; tree's shadow to right.

A Tart to Share

Marash Girl and Marash Boy drove West to enjoy the beautiful day on the top of Wilbraham Mountain, where Karoun was awaiting their arrival.

[Marash Girl had promised Karoun a fruit tart from Whole Foods to share with the class Karoun is training to become yoga instructors.]

When Marash Girl handed Karoun the tart, Karoun started laughing.

"What's so funny?" asked Marash Girl

"I thought you were talking about a tart the size of a muffin.  I didn't realize you meant a tart the size of a pie!"

"Why else would I promise that you could share it with your friends?  Especially when I apologized for having eaten a quarter of the tart!"

Another Message from the Heavens?

Yesterday, Marash Boy and Marash Girl set out to meet Arax and Karoun at a lakeside restaurant on the Wilbraham/Springfield line.  (Didn't know there was a lake there?  Check it out!) Arriving early, they set themselves up at an outside table overlooking the water.  Soon the girls arrived (women, Marash Girl should say) and began to seat themselves at the table, but before Arax could sit down, a gust of wind lifted the umbrella from a nearby table and carried it straight towards Arax's head.  Marash Girl (or Superwoman, as she now is tempted to call herself), reached up and grabbed the pole of the umbrella, averting imminent disaster. No-one noticed except for Marash Girl, and maybe ???? Or perhaps Marash Girl created the story from whole cloth, just to have something to write about in her blog . . . 

The English Sparrow and Marash Boy

The other day, as we sat in the beautiful outdoors (granted, in the courtyard of a city restaurant, but still . . .) an English Sparrow flew by and dropped a pat of butter, right on Marash Boy's head!  Now what better sign of "good luck" could one wish for?