Wednesday, February 25, 2015


Letter to Mom

Mom – I was laying in bed enjoying the early morning sunshine on my legs and thinking about you and the magic of media and I’ve got the feeling that this letter will get thru to you.  When we lived in different states, I ALWAYS wrote at least once a week, even just a postcard, to let you know we were OK.  That was back when stamps cost three cents and we wouldn’t have dreamed of calling, we only used long distance phone for bad news or maybe really great news. 
Your picture is on the wall, right over my computer, and well, I just gotta tell you about what all is happening now and I think my letter will get thru to you.  Do you remember when I first got a computer?  I didn’t want to give up my typewriter.  And I durned sure didn’t want to bother about learning something new.  I had just retired, had books in my head to write, my wonderful IBM was so much better than the old manual portable Remington that I had used for years, leave me alone. 
When the big monster Epson machine with two slots for floppies appeared on my desk I wrote you my first letter on it.  I said, “Mom, don’t mind the mistakes, these keys are so much lighter to touch and I don’t know how to erase yet.”  Those were ftp days, before html and www.  Go back to the late 1980s, not even thirty years ago. 
It had to be magic.  I could send letters to my sister and brothers without buying stamps.  The family kept in touch so much better.  Now my computer has shrunk so small it can be hidden underneath a file folder.  And now these carry around telephones have cheap minutes.  And I just have to tell you what I did yesterday. 
Would you believe – I held my little phone in my hand and sent a picture to everyone.  With my telephone!  It’s called a cell phone.  Now this is really magic. 
Our great grand kids don’t  have the amazement that I do because they take all this new mystical stuff for granted. My son took away my IBM. My grandson insists that sending a picture thru space doesn’t need a miracle.  And my great grandchildren believe that what appears as voo-dooism to me is part of life. 

Well, here’s one for them.  Mom, last Sunday several of our “senior ciizens” went over to the Japanese Festival.  A friend took a picture of me and sent it thru space to me.  And I’m passing it on to you.  I know you would want to see it and somehow, with all these miracles I can’t believe, there has to be a way to send you my picture.
It always makes me happy when a penny appears in unexpected places and I know it is from you and you are being my guardian angel.   I  love you, Mom.  All is well here. sending lots of hugs and kisses, xoxoxoxo,  Mariam

#mariamcheshire  #thealternatesafeworldofsanctuary  #myrt-ty-ky-ly


Tuesday, February 10, 2015



Here come the old ladies out on the town!  Tonight we are three.  Other times we might be four or five. It depends on who has the needed spurt of energy for leaving TV and the comfortable chair. 

First Friday Art Walk is the attraction tonight.   Roosevelt Avenue used to be crummy left over buildings and now has been turned into bright paint and sparkle. 

We don’t bother to wear sweaters on this February balmy summer evening in Phoenix.  It won’t cool off while we are out – when someone’s legs gives that little shaky warning, the time will come to turn around. 

We walk the four blocks to 100 year old Trinity Cathedral and admire a presentation of children’s exciting looking art work.  We accept a chocolate chip cookie.  That will hold us until we find a place to eat. 

The sun begins to disappear.  Many others have begun the stroll.  A pair of beautiful Malamute pups beg to be petted.  Of course we oblige.  We stop to admire paintings by an old lady (but not nearly as old as we are) who carries them in a basket.  Later we will see her sitting on a collapsible stool on the sidewalk instead of a booth.  She is with others who sell their wares rent free. 

We cautiously cross busy Central Avenue and need to decide which side of Roosevelt would be the most interesting.  Noise and lights attract us diagonally to an area of tented stalls. Barb has to maneuver her walker thru gravel,   We didn’t slow down at the “Head” signs, not too sure of what they would offer but knew we were past the years of finding out.

We continue on to stalls of hand-made pendants (maybe hand-made in China), carved colorful bowls, floating beads to go in the flower pot.  We window-shopped until our stomachs told us it was time to find food.  We crossed back to the other side of the street, but whoops, it was too late.  The little food places with tables and chairs were standing room only.  Although we had not reached the art gallery area, the time had come to head in home direction. 

Annette speeded up our progress when she caught sight of the woman in the tattoo shop window, all 500 pounds of her, with gaudy breasts uncovered, ready for the tattoo needle. 

Originally there had been only one plan for the evening.  Phoenix Chorale gave free Open Rehearsals at Trinity Cathedral tonight, come whenever you want, stay as long as you want.  We relaxed in that oh-so-beautiful Church, listening to voices that belonged in the peacefulness. 

Two and a half hours.  2.2 miles.  Not bad for the old ladies even though there had been much we missed.  Sometimes – well, a lot of times -- senior citizens will spend time together complaining of  the pains and problems.  Not tonight.  We talked happy words, grateful for all we have.  

We wanted to hug our downtown Phoenix.  Our much-loved low-income apartments give us the perfect style of living.  Good friendships grow here among personalities with different backgrounds and interests.

When other parts of the world are frozen, we walk in comfort.  We have areas to explore:  There was the evening we found slider hamburgers on sale at five o’clock and tap beer on sale at six.  Or maybe it was the other way around. Even though we each only had one beer, the young waiters kidded us about our ability to walk home.   Last week we saw the “26 blocks of Phoenix” art show at the Renaissance Hotel (formerly the Adams).  Always something to do, always something to look forward to. 

These old ladies are continually thankful for their blessings. 

 #PHXFridays   #MariamCheshire  #TheAlternateSafeWorldofSanctuary