Monthly Archives: November 2013

Day 314: Things NOT to fear (geography)

Things not to fear, on a Sunday morning:

1.  Lack of money will destroy my life.

Honestly, that is so unlikely, at this point in my life.

However, there have been times I’ve been fearful of this.   In fact, somebody would have provided enough — at those times —  for me to survive and go on.

I should have known that, before. I know it now.

2.  Geography.

Geography was my least favorite subject, in school.   Here’s a story about that: When I was in 6th grade, I was procrastinating studying for a test about European capitals. (Note: I still procrastinate doing things I don’t like.) I tried to learn everything in the recess period before, with a couple of classmates. When I was having trouble remembering the capital of Belgium, somebody suggested this solution, “It’s Brussels, so think of brussels sprouts.”  Later, I noticed the teacher and classmates laughing, when they saw what I had written on the test: “The capital of Belgium is Brocolli.”*

Even though I still get disoriented by unfamiliar geography, I love to travel.  I’ve been to Brussels, very briefly, and would love to return. Here’s a beautiful photo of Brussels, thanks to Google Images (and Girl’s guide to Brussels):


I could make a list of other places I want to visit, but that would take too long.

Another way geography has scared me? I have avoided geographical locations associated with past pain and suffering.  As I described earlier this year, it can help to return to those, when you’re ready. When you choose.

Last week, I chose to stop and linger, taking in a scary location from my long-ago past:


That’s not so bad, now.  Nothing to fear, really.


Thanks to my 6th grade classmates and teacher, the country of Belgium, places familiar and new, green vegetables everywhere,  people who support others in any way,  and to you — of course! — for visiting today.


* A few more thoughts about that:

  1. I thought it was funny, too.
  2. I had never seen a brussels sprout, at that point in my life.
  3. I still misspell “broccoli,” most of the time.
  4. I have never, ever forgotten the capital of Belgium since.
Categories: personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 20 Comments

Day 313: Riding the waves

Last week, I was talking to somebody who was dealing with major life changes. The changes were all the result  of one traumatic event which happened to her, a couple of years ago.

Some of the latest changes were “good” — financially and otherwise. She told me that people in her life, more than ever, were wishing she’d “get over it”:

You should be happy now.

Just put it all behind you, and move on!

When someone experiences traumatic events, people have trouble understanding the twists and turns of the healing process.

That includes the person who has experienced the trauma, too.

This person described a lack of control, a sense of powerlessness in the face of unpredictable, upsetting events and forces — including other people’s reactions and her own feelings.

Together, she and I constructed a metaphor to describe how she felt.

First, she was lost at sea, amid giant, frightening waves.

Then, we changed the picture. We imagined her on a surfboard, on top of those waves. The waves were still enormous, powerful, unpredictable. She could not control them, but she could ride them.

Of course, like any surfer, she would “wipe out” and  fall off her board at times. But the surfboard would always be there, bobbing nearby in the waves, ready for her next ride.

I like that metaphor.  I’m using it for myself, today.

There are always forces — outside in the word and within myself — that I cannot control.

Sometimes those forces are bigger. Sometimes they seem dangerous.

But I always have my surfboard, at hand. And I can always climb back on top, and ride those waves.

What IS my surfboard?

Why, it’s everything that helps, including my

  • Wisdom
  • Experience
  • Skills
  • Humanity
  • Connections to other people
  • Music
  • Animals
  • Access to beauty, in nature and elsewhere
  • Love
  • Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.*

It’s time for an image! Let’s see what Google is offering today, for “surfer”:

Mark Healey

Gee, that looks like fun!

Thanks to Mark Healey (for riding that wave), National Geographic, surfers everywhere, survivors of all kinds, and to you — of course!  — for visiting today.


*  Quoting Yul Brynner, in “The King and I”:

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Day 312: Exceptions

When I started this blog, at the beginning of this year, I set a structure for it, as expressed in my About page:

This blog is part of my creative process.

It’s also a way to work on my  growing acceptance and appreciation of life, and to share and develop some of the wisdom I’ve been slowly accumulating. My commitment is to start on January 1, 2013 and to blog once daily, throughout 2013.

So I made a commitment to blog once daily.

A commitment  I have kept, all year.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday, I decided to blog twice, because I wanted to send out a targeted message — a message to people who receive emails whenever I publish.

You see, I recently started sending myself email messages of my own posts. As a result, after I published yesterday’s post — which had some cool video clips of dances —  I got some important, new information. The emailed version of that post, which I received, did not include any of those videos.

So I was presented with a problem. And when my mind perceives a problem, it really goes to town!  Here are some of the thoughts I had:

Hmm.  The email I received had no video clips.  That’s too bad!  I assume that other people who get emails of my posts didn’t get those clips, either. I really like those clips.  Maybe other people wouldn’t like them, though!  Maybe people get annoyed when I include video clips!  Who wants to play a video clip when they’re reading a blog?  I do, dammit!  And I at least want to give people the choice to play those clips if they want to. I wonder if people who get the emailed posts know that they can easily go to WordPress and see the entire post, just by clicking on the name of the post?  Geesh!  What should I do about this? People who get emailed posts are only a portion of my reading audience.  Shall I send them each an email?  Nahhh. That would take too long. Hey!  Why don’t I just send out another post?  That’s not the best way to reach a portion of an audience — because there are lots of people it won’t apply to — but why not?  What’s the worst that could happen?  The people who it doesn’t apply to can just ignore it. Maybe it will confuse some people, but so what? Of course, I’ll be blogging twice, and I committed to blogging once. Arrghhh!

I tell you, my mind is one scary place to visit sometimes.  All those thoughts!  All that back-and-forth action, about one simple, relatively unimportant issue.

Although, in defense of me, some of that frenzied thought action was due to this:  Commitments ARE very important to me. I like to stick to commitments. I think it’s an excellent way to live.

But it’s also important to prioritize and let go of perfectionism, when it comes to commitments.  While I try very hard to keep ALL commitments and promises, that’s pretty darn impossible, isn’t it?  Some commitments are definitely more important than others.

For example, it’s okay to break a social commitment, every once in a while, to take care of myself. Yes, it is.

Ann!  Are you listening?

(That’s something I have trouble remembering.)

Some might say that breaking commitments is a “slippery slope.”  That is, once you start going back on promises, you’ll end up breaking lots of them.

To me, right now, that sounds like All-or-Nothing thinking. And Labeling, too. (See here for a list of those and other cognitive distortions.)   That is, either I have to be 100% about commitments or … I’ll turn into a  Dirty, Rotten Promise-Breaker.

I’m not a Promise-Breaker, people!  I can declare that now, even though I “broke” a commitment yesterday.


Yesterday, after I had all those thoughts, in italics above, about that Momentous Breach of Commitment, I had this, more helpful thought:

If I make an exception and post twice, that will be a great opportunity to write about the helpful side of exceptions.

Exceptions are an important concept in Narrative Therapy (which I’ve written about previously this year — like here —  because it’s one of my favorite ways of working with people).

Here’s what Narrative Therapy says about Exceptions:

  1. People tend to tell certain types of stories about themselves.
  2. Some of those stories are “stuck”, unhelpful, negative, and limiting.
  3. Whenever people tell negative stories about themselves, they are ignoring exceptions to that fixed story.

So, when people tell me stories about how incompetent, inadequate, lazy, worthless, etc. they are, I pull for the exceptions to those stories. I ask questions,  to invite the times, the actions, the moments that don’t fit those negative self-judgments.

And those exceptions are ALWAYS there.  Always.

Sometimes, it takes some digging, to discover them.


But there’s no better buried treasure, I believe.

Now that I’ve inserted an image in this post, let’s see what Google Images has for us, today, regarding “exceptions”.

Here we go!


Thanks to James Thurber, SQL Soldier (for the buried treasure image), exception-makers,  kind commitment-breakers, and to you, especially, for visiting today.

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Pssst! Hint for people who get my posts through e-mail

I see that the e-mails don’t include video clips (and perhaps other bells and whistles). However, if you click on the title of the post, in blue at the top, that will take you to the complete post, with clips and all.

As you were!



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Day 311: Shall we dance?

“Shall we dance?”   That was the title, for today’s blog post, in my head, when I woke up this morning.

I remember feeling joy, when I was very young, watching the movie “The King and I,” when Anna (Deborah Kerr) and the King of Siam (Yul Brynner) connected, in a new way, through dance.

The movie is not on YouTube, so I can’t show you that exact scene, but here’s a version of “Shall We Dance”, with Yul Brynner and Patricia Morrison, from the 1971 Tony Awards):


For me, with my unusual heart, and the evolving capabilities of pacemakers to speed up that heart of mine, there have been times when my physical activities have been restricted.  However, no matter what has been going on with my heart and with pacemakers, I have always been able to dance.

I’ve been able to dance, in my basement alone, after my first surgery at age 10,  listening to the music from many musicals, including West Side Story (like this number):

I was able to dance to that number,  my heart beating 80 beats a minute, every minute, never speeding up.

Every once in a while I had to stop, to rest, but then I would be up and dancing again, on the basement floor.

Then, in the 70’s, when I was in my 20s, I was dancing disco whenever I could, with my heart beating 72 beats a minute, every minute, never speeding up.

I asked my doctors, how am I doing that? How am I able to dance throughout the entire length of a song?

Like this one, sung by Gloria Gaynor:

Or this one, by The Trammps:

(I’m including that number, even though John Travolta and his partner are not really connecting, because .. I could do all the moves she’s doing there!)

No matter what disco song was playing, and how long it lasted, I kept on stepping, spinning, and dipping — always keeping pace with my normal-hearted partners.

So, how could I do that?  I asked my doctors.

My doctors said, “Your heart is keeping up with you, somehow. It developed that capacity.”

I’d have to sit down and rest between dances. But not for long.  I was back up on the dance floor, very soon.

Then, starting in 1987, all my pacemakers were able to speed up, making my heart beat like a “normal” one.

And I stopped dancing as much. Perhaps that’s because I could do all sorts of physical activities, then.

Last month, my heart went into atrial fibrillation and — according to my doctors — it’s going to stay there, for the most part, for the rest of my life.

When my heart is in atrial fibrillation, my pacemaker cannot do as great a job, speeding my heart up.  When I’m in atrial fibrillation,  the pacemaker needs to pick up signals from my breathing and body movement, in order to help compensate for physical exertion.

So, when I go upstairs, I’m more out of breath now. However,  climbing stairs still feels better than it used to, before 1987.

Two weeks ago, my bf Michael and I started taking Argentine Tango lessons.

Last night, we danced across the floor, for the good part of an hour.

I had to stop and rest. But only once.

And we’re beginners, so we’re not exactly exerting ourselves, like this:

Not yet.

Thanks to Rodgers and Hammerstein (for The King and I), Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim (for West Side Story), Clifton Davis (for “Never Can Say Goodbye”), Leroy Green and Ron Kersey (for “Disco Inferno”), Patricio Touceda and Carla Chimento (the tango dancers), and to you — of course! — for visiting today.

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Day 310: Idiom Challenge # 1

This is the beginning of my post, where I explain the title.


In this post:

  1. I intend to challenge some idioms I’ve internalized, and
  2. I am including a number in the title (#1) because I like numbers, I like indicating beginnings, and I like leaving room for the continuation of a process.


Idiom #1: Don’t Change Horses in the Middle of a Stream.

Meaning (according to

To make major changes in an activity that has already begun; to choose someone or something else after it is too late. (Alludes to someone trying to move from one horse to another while crossing a stream.) I’m already baking a cherry pie. I can’t bake an apple pie. It’s too late to change horses in the middle of the stream. The house is half-built. It’s too late to hire a different architect. You can’t change horses in midstream. Jane: I’ve written a rough draft of my research paper, but the topic doesn’t interest me as much as I thought. Maybe I ought to pick a different one. Jill: Don’t change horses in midstream.

Looking at the last example in that definition: I’m not convinced that Jane should listen to Jill. Isn’t Jane the expert on her own experience? And wouldn’t it be better, for all involved, if Jane wrote about something that interested her?

Before I continue challenging this idiom, let me insert some results of a Google Image search:


(thanks to (and by the way, I am not familiar with that Tower of Power tune)



(thanks to for a full page of horse quotes!)

It’s interesting that both images I’ve chosen are related to music. (I love music.)

I got a little distracted, I have to say, by some of the other Google Images that came up for this idiom ….

Hold on …. refocusing ….

… And back to my intention: to challenge this internalized idiom! (And thanks to James Taylor for starting the challenging.)

Here we go:

I’m sorry, but I don’t find this a helpful warning. I just don’t.  It tells me to be afraid of change, of taking control, of doing something different. For heaven’s sake,  we are ALWAYS mid-stream, aren’t we?  And if I never change horses, then I’ll never get a chance to do something different, change direction, ride in a new way, and pursue new goals.


Idiom #2:  Don’t toot your own horn.

Meaning?  Let’s go to, again:

To brag. Gary sure likes to toot his own horn. “I hate to blow my own horn,” said Bill, “but I am always right.”

I’m not sure what happened to Jill and Jane, our previous Idiom Players.  Maybe Jane is busy re-writing her paper, and Jill has gone off in a huff, after Jane politely and firmly told her to keep her opinions to herself.

In any case, this time we get Gary and Bill.  And the implication, as usual, is that bragging is risky, if not down-right obnoxious. (See here, for one of several posts I’ve written about bragging, this year.)

Let’s see what Google Images has to show, about this:


(Thanks to  eslculips,com, for the image and further explanation of this idiom. )


(thanks to, a site that looks at proverbs from around the world)

Again, my second image has started arguing with this idiom, for me.

Let’s see what else I can come up with, to challenge it …

Hey!  How about this poem from Marianne Williamson? I’ve quoted this poem previously this year (see this post), but I can’t imagine a better way to go:

Our Deepest Fear
By Marianne Williamson
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness
That most frightens us.

We ask ourselves
Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.

Your playing small
Does not serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking
So that other people won’t feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine,
As children do.
We were born to make manifest
The glory of God that is within us.

It’s not just in some of us;
It’s in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine,
We unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we’re liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.

Thanks to Marianne Williamson, for that glorious challenge.

And before I end this post, I just wanted to say one more thing:

Tower of Power, who created that song, “Don’t Change Horses in the Middle of the Stream”?

Man, those guys sure toot their own horns, and I’m so glad they do!

Thanks for listening, reading, and all of it, today.

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Day 309: Theories about DOA (Dread of Anger)

On Day 260, I wrote a post wondering why I get so friggin’ anxious about people getting angry at me.

Read that post, please, so I don’t have to repeat myself.

Thank you!

Something in this post, already, reminds me of one of the many ridiculous things that feed into my dread of anger.

If somebody writes me an e-mail and asks me to do something, using the word “please,” I can interpret THAT as conveying annoyance.

Isn’t that absurd?

Now, to defend my absurdity, it is true that interpreting email is difficult, because important cues are missing.  Like tone of voice and facial expressions.

At this point in my post, I am consulting my old friend, Google Images, typing in “emotions chart”. And this is the first thing that came up:



You know, I was hoping that the Google Images Buffet would offer up the emotions/facial expressions chart I used with my son, about 15 years ago.  But, I don’t see it anywhere. I guess the above (which I found at Momma’s Time) will do.

Google Images also offered up some charts using actual people (which I don’t remember seeing when my son was a baby).



I couldn’t find a chart with actual people, this morning, that labeled the feelings, but thanks to, for the image above.

Anyway, where was I?

Oh,yes. How difficult it can be to interpret the emotions in email.

I guess that is why emoticons were invented, huh?  They help us interpret people’s feelings during communications that lack certain important human signals.  Like voice tone and facial expression.

Sometimes, when I’m writing, I think about my favorite authors from the 18th and 19th century, like Jane Austen, Henry Fielding,  Charles Dickens, and George Eliot.

They didn’t need emoticons to convey complex human emotions. Why do we?

Well, I guess I know the answer to that.

They were friggin’ geniuses, people!

Also, perhaps they had more time on their hands than we do, today.  (I just wrote THAT sentence because I’m pressed for time, and I’m not sure I’m conveying the emotions I would like, in this blog post.)

Oh, my goodness. I have digressed so far away from my original topic, how can I find my way back? Perhaps, like Hansel and Gretel, I have left a trail of breadcrumbs that I can follow.



Of course, that path was eaten by the birds and they got lost in the woods.

However, I think I can find my way back, just fine.

Here’s what I want to say, before I conclude this blog post:

  • Emotions can be difficult to read.
  • When I write a post that has a lot of digressions and evokes fairy tales, that’s probably a signal that I’m writing about something that is very old, in me.
  • No matter how I developed my dread of others’ anger (or displeasure), I can choose, as an adult, to let go of it.

Which I do, right now!

Thanks to Hansel and Gretel, story-tellers everywhere, people who show and read emotions, and to you — of course — for visiting today.



*  Thanks to Lisa Loves Linguistics, for that image.

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Day 308: Transitional Images (and Idioms)

Dear readers,

I’m working on some transitions here, including:

  1. the transition from October to November and, therefore,
  2. the transition to colder weather.

Also, we set the clocks back over the weekend, and that always seems to have an effect on me.

So, to celebrate transitions, I am going to post some photos I’ve take recently, that I haven’t used yet!

This reminds me of the idiom

Killing two birds with one stone

… but I’m not crazy about idioms that involve harming animals, these days.  For example, I’ve also stopped saying

There’s more than one way to skin a cat

…. even though I think that’s a helpful concept, too.

Anyway, where was I?

Oh, yes!  Here are some transitional images, for my blog post today:

Two weeks ago, my son and I visited a wonderful costume company, in Arlington Center:

photo (62)

My son was planning his Halloween costume (he dressed up as Walter White, from “Breaking Bad”) and he was looking for ways  he could look more like this:


While we didn’t buy anything that day, we found some amazing stuff at The Costume Company:

IMG_1980 IMG_1982 IMG_1985

Toni, whom I hope you can see (on the right in the last photo), said that many of the items at the Costume Company are one-of-a-kind.  She told us a story about that beautiful Marie-Antoinette-type costume, shown above in their promotional postcard:  A copy of that original costume, which was shared on the internet, showed up in a music video, without attribution.  We all agreed that once you put something excellent out there, it’s difficult to prevent people from copying it.

Let’s see if I have any other Halloween-related images to show you ….

Not really, I guess I was too caught up in other things, last month.

Although here is an image of Captain Kirk, from Star Trek, dressed up as an umpire, which was posted in a window:

photo (63)

Okay!  It’s time to leave October behind, pictorially.

Here are some photos I took last night, to help me transition into what’s ahead:


Oooops!  I guess that’s still a throw-back to October.

Let me try again:


That’s more like it!  That tells us that Thanksgiving is coming, soon, to these parts.

Here’s the last photo I took last night:


Arrrghhh!!  Too much of a transition, too soon,  for me  right now.

Although, I will end with this: Michael (my bf) pointed out, last night, how much I enjoy all the colorful lights, as winter takes hold.

Those DO help, for sure.


Thanks to thefreedictionary,com, The Costume Company, “Breaking Bad,” Star Trek,” my son, Michael,  masqueraders everywhere, people going through transitions of any kind, and to you — of course! — for visiting today.

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Day 307: Beautiful, healing Boston

On Day 106 of this year — the day after the Boston Marathon bombings  — I wrote a post called “Beautiful, wounded Boston.”

In that post, I included this photo, which I had taken at the Public Gardens, two days before the Marathon:


Yesterday, I returned to the Public Gardens, with thousands of people, to watch the Red Sox parade.

For much of my life, I’ve associated April with living and November with dying.

Not this year. This year, it’s been about all of it, every month.

Here is a photo essay, about yesterday:

My Day At the Boston Red Sox  Parade

by Ann

Minutes after I finished yesterday’s blog post, which helped me gather the courage to JUST DO IT! and go to the parade on my own, I rushed out of the house, to wait at the nearest bus stop, to start the journey into Boston. Two people at the bus stop told me they had originally planned to take the commuter rail, but they received word that the commuter rail was packed and running very late.

Why did I choose the bus, yesterday morning, over the commuter rail?

It’s familiar. I’ve never used the commuter rail. However, my fear of the new (which I’ve written about several times, this year), made me look like a friggin’ genius yesterday:


This was the way the bus looked, at the beginning of the journey. And while Red Sox revelers did hop on, it never got crowded.

Distracted by many things,  I didn’t take photos for the next hour.  The next time I remembered to capture an image was when I was walking down Charles Street, which separates  the Public Gardens from The Boston Common.

If you like maps and would like to feel located at this point in my essay, here’s the map, from yesterday’s post, of the parade route:


While Charles Street isn’t marked in that map, you can see the white line between the green of the Public Garden and the Common.  I had gotten off the “T” (our name for the subway) at the Charles/MGH stop, and was walking that white line toward Boylston.

For those of you who don’t like maps, we’re moving on!

So, as I walked down Charles Street, between the Public Garden and Boston Common, I passed by several fire trucks, accompanied by ….


…  Boston Fire Fighters!  I stopped to ask these gentlemen (and others, who did not pose), if I could take a photo of them. These four, named Dennis, Danny, Danny, and Nick, said, “Sure!” without any hesitation.  When I told them it was for my blog, they said, “What kind of blog is it?”  Because I was in such a good mood, I immediately said, laughing, “It’s a blog about handsome guys!”  They liked that (although much ribbing of each other ensued immediately).  They also liked the actual name of my blog (although additional ribbing ensued about that, too).

As you can see, I was anxious to get to the parade route, because I didn’t get a very good shot of these wonderful Boston firefighters. I still love the photo, though.

I hurried up Charles Street, pausing for a moment to turn around and take this view of it:


Yes, it was another beautiful day, and unseasonably warm.

Just a few minutes later, I was in a great position, to see the parade. Here are a few shots of what I saw, waiting for the parade to come down Boylston Street:



I wanted to be at this location, so I could see up Boylston Street, the location of the Marathon Finish Line, and see the Red Sox after they had finished their journey down this street.

Here’s what I saw, as we all waited for them, on this beautiful autumn day:


What I didn’t know, at the time, was that the Red Sox parade had stopped, on Boylston Street.

This is the way CNN reported it:

Boston Red Sox parade reclaims marathon finish line


Boston outfielder Jonny Gomes on Saturday sets the World Series trophy wrapped in a ‘Boston Strong 617’ jersey onto the finish line of the Boston Marathon.

See here, for the full article about this, from CNN.

Yesterday, though, all I knew was that the Red Sox were coming down Boylston Street, in Duck Boats. Here’s where I first spotted them:


I don’t know if you can see them, way off in the distance. I was also tipped off they were approaching, by audio clues from the crowd, including,


Because I’m pretty short, I don’t have a great vantage point, to show you the parade approaching and passing by, but I will do my best:







I knew I wouldn’t get great photos of the Red Sox on their Duck Boats, but I couldn’t resist trying. (See here, for example, for some great shots of the parade.)

Here are some more photos I like, which I took during the parade:

IMG_2138 IMG_2158


And I have to include this one, because it shows a giant red shoe!!


Anyway, after the parade passed by, I walked around The Public Gardens for a bit, and took some more photos:








As they say in “The Wizard of Oz,” there’s no place like home.

Thanks to CNN, The Huffington Post, the Boston Red Sox, all those who were celebrating yesterday, and to you — of course! — for visiting today.

Categories: personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , | 29 Comments

Day 306: Parade day!!!!

That’s a quote I just read on a friend’s Facebook page:

Parade day!!!!

And, immediately, because I’m in Boston, I knew what that meant.

Today, Boston will honor their baseball team, the Red Sox, for winning the World Series, with a parade, all around town.

Here’s the parade route (thanks to


The parade stretches over two of my favorite types of places: land AND water.

Here’s a view, from an earlier post, of part of that parade route (photo taken from the Longfellow Bridge):


Here are some quotes about today’s parade, from

The path down Boylston Street will provide a poignant backdrop to the parade and pay tribute to a team whose stunning success came to symbolize the city’s resilience and resolve in the aftermath of the April 15 Boston Marathon bombings, which killed three people and wounded more than 260.

Outside Sólás, an Irish pub near the finish line, Peter Fiscina, 66, who lost friends in the 9/11 attack on the World Trade Center towers, said Thursday evening that he feels that the parade will help the city heal.

“I think it’s good for Boston,” said Fiscina, 66, of of Staten Island, N.Y.


Across the street at Marathon Sports, where mannequins sported Boston Strong shirts in the display window, assistant manager Dana Jamieson said it felt strange to be celebrating in the same area that was a scene of devastation in April, but the parade will “help put a sense of community back for the residents of Boston.”

Michael Parillo, who also works at Marathon Sports, welcomed the celebration and said that in many ways, the team’s victory has made the slogan “Boston Strong” as much about triumph as tragedy.

“It’s becoming more of an icon for the whole city, not just what happened that day,” he said earlier in the day.

After the bombings, in April, I returned to Boylston, for my own healing walk down that familiar street. (Here‘s my post about that.)

I wasn’t sure, when I woke up today, whether I was going to go to the parade.

Why the uncertainty?

  1. My sister — the person I most wanted to go with — cannot go, unfortunately.
  2. Going alone, into something like this, with lots of crowds and unexpected possibilities, can be daunting and even scary.

Writing down that short list, above, however, reminds me of this:

I’ve gone, alone, into similar situations before and …. LOVED them!

Okay! Case closed.

It’s time for a song!

I’m Off to See the Red Sox

by Ann

(Sung to the music of “We’re off to See the Wizard*)

I’m off to see the Red Sox

Those wonderful Red Sox of ours,

You’ll find they are a whiz of a team

If ever a team there was,

If ever, oh ever, a team there was,

Those Red Sox of ours are one, because

Because, because, because, because, because,

Because of the wonderful things it does!**

I’m off to see the Red Sox,

Those wonderful Red Sox of ours.

Thanks to the Boston Globe,  Harold Arlen and Herbert Stothart***, all the Boston teams (sport-related and otherwise),  paraders everywhere, and to you — of course! — for reading today.


* Here’s the original song:

** Did I follow the rules of grammar here?  What do YOU think?

*** The lyricist and composer for “The Wizard of Oz.”

Categories: personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , | 3 Comments

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