Posts Tagged With: South Shore of Boston

Day 2397: Resilience

Even though I’ve had the resilience to create this daily blog for two thousand, three hundred, and ninety-seven days, today is the first time I’ve had the resilience to create a post with that title.

When I search through my blogging past for “resilience,” WordPress has the resilience to return these four posts …

Day 2369: Celebrating

Day  1754: I can’t get over it

Day 1710: Rage

Day 306: Parade day!!!!

If you have the resilience to read any of those past posts, let me know why you think WordPress chose those  to represent resilience.

Today, I need the resilience to

  • facilitate a large Coping and Healing group at work,
  • drive around to pick up balloons and a gelato cake,
  • preside over the  board meeting of a group therapy professional organization, and
  • say goodbye to four departing board members.

Do you see resilience in any of today’s photos?

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Here‘s “Resilience” by Carson.

Here’s “Epic Inspirational Orchestral Music — Resilience”  from Secession Studios.

Do you have the resilience to leave a resilient comment, below?

Resilient thanks to all who helped me create this Juneteenth post and — of course! — thanks to YOU, for your resilience.

Categories: group therapy, personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 26 Comments

Day 2394: A little bit different

Yesterday, when I was being a little bit different than anybody else I know, I noticed this:

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and I knew that “a little bit different” was a little bit different from any other blog title I’d used before in the past six-and-a-half years.

When I looked at all my other photos from yesterday …

…they were all a little bit different, so I knew I would use that title for today’s blog post.

This morning, I realized that this post might be a little bit different from most published today by not mentioning Father’s Day up front. And then, when I looked at my photos again with a little bit different perspective, I realized they all related to my father. I guess I see them that way because I’m related to my father and we are both a little bit different.

My late father was humble and kind.

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He cared much more about other people than he did about money …

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… but he worked very, very hard to be a good provider for his family.

He had a beautiful singing voice and was very musical. He bought us a piano when my sister and I were young.

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My father paid for piano lessons for his little-bit-different daughters but never learned to play himself. That calendar photo of the dog playing piano (which is a little bit different)  arrived yesterday in the mail from my wonderful cousin, Lani. Lani, like the rest of us, is a little bit different and she also loved my father.

Lani, and everybody else who knew my father, would say that my father was incredibly funny, although they might tell that story in a little bit different ways. My dad  told me he wrote little-bit-different rhymes for his high school year book, including this memorable one (which is a little bit different from totally kind):

Jerry is a drummer rare.

If he didn’t play, we wouldn’t care.

Perhaps you can see his influence in this little-bit-different certificate I’ll be presenting later this week to an exiting board member of my group therapy professional organization:

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When I was very young, my father moved us to a little-bit-different home which was a block away from the ocean, on the North Shore of Boston. I’m now living on the little-bit-different South Shore of Boston.

I think my father would have noticed the irony in that little-bit-different last photo in that sea-side montage.

My father was a life-long Democrat and so am I, although we were a little bit different in our politics.

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That very different photo reminds me of my father in several little bit different ways.  He brought home all the different magazines from the pharmacy he owned but never  ridiculous rags like The Globe or the National Enquirer. Also, he would sometimes ask my different friends this little question, “Are your parents still together?”  Leave it to my father to throw in little-bit-different conversation starters when talking to my friends.

My father really enjoyed our little-bit-different cat, Tuffy, who my parents got me when I was recovering from major heart surgery at age 10.

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Harley, pictured there,  reminds me a lot of Tuffy, in looks and in temperament although, of course, they’re a little bit different. My dad and I used to play a little-bit-different game with Tuffy, where we would sit on the floor in the kitchen and roll back and forth little-bit-different balls made of Challah bread,  with Tuffy trying to catch them. Tuffy, who was a little bit different in her taste in treats, would catch the bread balls and eat them.

My father was a married to a clean freak …

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… who was a little bit different from most clean freaks by letting us sit on the floor and toss bread balls back and forth with our cat. My father had this little-bit-different joke he used to tell about my mother:

I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, and when I got back Weezie had made the bed.

Leave it my father to tell a joke that was a little-bit-different from the truth, even though he was impeccable with his word.

I took driver’s education in high school, but my memories of learning to drive are all of my father.

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My father was one of Boston’s safest drivers (which believe me, is not saying much) and because of him, I am a safe driver, too.

After my father retired, he and my mother travelled abroad …

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… but I don’t think they made it to Barcelona. My traveling has been a little bit different but I haven’t been to Barcelona, although I did travel to Spain with my beloved friend Jeanette.  I have memories of Jeanette and my father getting along really well, although they were a little bit different  from each other (but who isn’t?). Maybe someday I’ll make it to Barcelona, which I understand is a little bit different from the rest of Spain.

My father grew up in an Orthodox Jewish household and so did I, although our upbringings were a little bit different.  Whenever we ate out, we only had fish or meatless dishes.

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My father was sensitive to other people’s feelings and was pretty sensitive himself.  We hurt each other a few times in our lives, but we always forgave each other, keeping the connection alive as long as he was.

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I only heard my father swear once, and that was when he was very angry about a young man who had hurt me when I was in my early 20’s.

My father took care of much of what grew on our property when I was growing up, as my little-bit-different boyfriend Michael does today.

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My father had a wonderful smile, which he did not keep to himself.

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Actually, neither of those animals really evoke my father, but this one does:

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I think my father and I were a little bit nuts, in a little bit different ways, but who isn’t?

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Also, I have vivid memories of my father on Saturdays eating pistachio nuts, which he was nuuuuuuuttssss about.

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My father had a wonderful zest for life, which I believe I’ve inherited.  Yay!

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I’ve tried to color in some details about my father in this little-bit-different post, which is not by the numbers and which attempts to capture the magic of  my Dad.  I hope it’s no mystery why I miss my father, every little-bit-different day.

Here‘s a song my father sang to my mother on a special anniversary (and he sounded a little bit different from Nat King Cole and Frank Sinatra):

 

I look forward to all your little-bit-different comments.

A little-bit-different thanks to all who helped me create today’s blog post and — of course! — to YOU!

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Categories: love, personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 21 Comments

Day 2391: How To Make Yourself Miserable

How to make yourself miserable?  Here are some suggestions:

  • Hold on to resentments.
  • Expect people to change for you.
  • Notice the negatives.
  • Compare yourself to other people.
  • Avoid awareness of the current moment.
  • Anticipate the worst.
  • Live in the past.
  • Stubbornly resist inevitable changes.
  • Stay in upsetting situations.
  • Hang around with critical people.
  • Beat yourself up about mistakes.
  • Say “yes’ to everything.
  • Say “no” to everything.
  • Squelch your creativity.
  • Let your fears control you.
  • Cultivate your distrust of the unknown (especially other people).
  • Stay small so you won’t “bother” others.
  • Avoid things that might make you happy.
  • Decide you’re too old to learn.
  • Decide you’re too young or inexperienced to know enough.
  • Be so invested in a particular outcome that you don’t have a Plan B.
  • Focus on should’s rather than could’s.
  • Do not indulge in hope because you might get disappointed.
  • Do not read the hilarious and helpful book “How to Make Yourself Miserable” by Dan Greenburg with Marcia Jacobs.

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I hope none of my other photos make you miserable, here and now.

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Here‘s 7 Ways to Maximize Misery:

Here‘s Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now by The Smiths.

Heaven knows I’m not miserable now that I’ve written today’s daily blog.  Thanks to all who helped me create this post and — of course! — to YOU.

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Categories: personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments

Day 2368: The little things

Five hundred and seventy-eight little days ago (but who’s counting these little things?), little ol’ me wrote a little blog post,  Day 1790: Thankful for the little things.  Yesterday, I was a little perturbed by many little things when I was writing yesterday’s little post, so  I sent Michael this little email:

Hello my darling,
I would say we have an infestation of ants .  This is based on many of them crawling on me this morning while I was blogging, which is a new experience for me here at Squanticello.  Let us research kind ways to invite them to leave.
Much love,
Ann

When I got home from work, Michael was more than a little freaked out at the not-so-little size of the invaders, which turned out to be carpenter ants. He said, “Usually I don’t think of insects as animals, but these enormous winged things are definitely animals.” Michael spent many little moments yesterday identifying the big ants’ little points of entry and applying spray that is kind to little things like children and pets.

I didn’t take any pictures of those little things, but I invite you to spot the little things in today’s little photos.

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I don’t see any little or large ants as I’m creating this little post, so I’d say that Michael’s efforts paid off, in a big way.

Here‘s “The Little Things You Do Together” from a little musical called Company:

Here are the great lyrics to “The Little Things You Do Together”  by that musical giant, Stephen Sondheim:

It’s the little things you do together
Do together
Do together
That make perfect relationships.
The hobbies you pursue together
Savings you accrue together
Looks you misconstrue together
That make marriage a joy.

It’s the little things you share together
Swear together
Wear together
That make perfect relationships.
The concerts you enjoy together
Neighbors you annoy together
Children you destroy together
That keep marriage intact.

It’s not so hard to be married
When two maneuver as one
It’s not so hard to be married
And Jesus Christ, is it fun.

It’s sharing little winks together
Drinks together
Kinks together
That make marriage a joy.
The bargains that you shop together
Cigarettes you stop together
Clothing that you swap together
That make perfect relationships.

It’s not talk of God and the decade ahead that
Allows you to get through the worst.
It’s “I do,” and, “You don’t,” and, “Nobody said that,”
And, “Who brought the subject up first?”

It’s the little things…
The little things, the little things, the little things

The little ways you try together
Cry together
Lie together
That make perfect relationships.
Becoming a cliche together
Growing old and gray together
Withering away together
That make marriage a joy.

It’s not so hard to be married,
It’s much the simplest of crimes.
It’s not so hard to be married,
I’ve done it three or four times.

It’s people that you hate together
Bait together
Date together
That make marriage a joy.
It’s things like using force together
Shouting till you’re hoarse together
Getting a divorce together
That make perfect relationships.
Uh uh
Kiss kiss
Mmmm mmmmm.

I’m greatly looking forward to all your little comments, below.

Gratitude for the little things helps me deal with all the little and big things every day, so big thanks to those who help me create this little blog and — of course! — to YOU.

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Soon after publishing this post, I made up some new little lyrics for that song, more relevant for tall Michael and little me:

It’s battling ants together
Making sure you dance together
Keeping the romance together
That make perfect relationships.

Categories: personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

Day 2353: Spoiler Alert

Spoiler Alert!  Yesterday I saw Avengers: Endgame, the kind of movie that evokes the use of the words “Spoiler Alert!” when people write about it.

Spoiler Alert! I’m alert to the importance of not give away spoilers about a movie that

  • billions of people have not yet seen,
  • has lots of twists and turns,
  • has a 95% rating on Rotten Tomatoes,
  • makes people laugh and cry,  and
  • says, to me, that group therapy is a very effective way to deal with trauma and loss.

Spoiler Alert!  I am not doing my usual thing of linking to the Wikipedia entry about Avengers: Endgame,  because that has countless alert spoilers in it.

Spoiler Alert!   I wonder if I’m reducing my readership for this blog post by repeating the words “Spoiler Alert”?

Spoiler Alert!  Last night I couldn’t sleep and started writing a song called “Spoiler Alert.”

Spoiler Alert! Here are the lyrics I’ve written so far:

Spoiler alert!

Things in your life are going to hurt.

Even nice people will sometimes be curt.

Some foolish words you’ll be certain to blurt.

Spoiler alert!

You’ll eat too much of a fattening dessert.

   You’ll be afraid that you might lose your shirt.

Someone you love will treat you like dirt.

© Ann Koplow, 2019

My sleepless hours  are not going to spoil my day —  I’ll be alert at work today and also tonight at the sold-out John Mulaney and Pete Davidson comedy benefit for My Brother’s Table.

Spoiler Alert! I’m going to share all my photos from yesterday, right now!

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I spoiled that last shot, obviously,  by walking and talking while I was taking it.

Spoiler Alert!  They Might Be Giants have a song called “Spoiler Alert”!

Spoiler Alert!  I’m alert to gratitude all around me, so I can share it with you!

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Categories: original song, personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , | 18 Comments

Day 2333: Trust is …

Trust is  …

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Intelligence and integrity tell me that trust is many different things to many different people.

Trust is something I felt yesterday, when I walked near our home during the day and then performed two of my original songs at an Open Mic in Boston in front of a very noisy, post-Boston Marathon crowd.

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Trust is important  if you perform in front of people.

Trust is part of expressing gratitude, so I trust you will accept my thanks for visiting my blog, here and now.

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Categories: original song, personal growth | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments

Day 2324: WTF?

WTF?  Five years ago, I unquestionably wrote another WTF post.

Today, the “F” in “WTF?” has another meaning.

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WTF?  What’s the flavor of each of my other photos from yesterday?

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WTF?  Personally, I have an intense craving for the flavors of nature. Why The F aren’t we all out there enjoying those Wonderful Terrific Flavors on this precious day? WTF? Who The F knows how many days we have left?

Here’s “The WTF Singalong” on YouTube:

What’s The Favorite comment on that video? WTF? It’s not this one:

There are no lyrics. But I didn’t need em. The song connected with me on a metaphysical level.

WTF? Why The F is it so difficult for me to write a Letter from the President for my professional organization’s  semiannual  newsletter when I can write a blog post here every day?  WTF? And  Why The F is it so difficult to remember the difference between semiannual and biannual?

WTF are you going to comment  on, below?

Where’s Thanks From me for all WTF’s in this post?

WTF? Where’s That Foto?

Widespread Thanks Follow …

 

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Categories: personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

Day 2296: They say …

They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

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They say turning the clocks forward (as we did last night) is not good for our health, but it didn’t kill us. Would they say that made us stronger, along with every other thing we’ve done, not done, felt, thought, sensed, and encountered in our lives?   I say we all must be very strong.

They say it’s impossible to be sure of anything except death and taxes. I started working on my 2018 taxes yesterday, so I’m  a little closer to both, here and now.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words.  If what they say is true, get ready for at least fourteen thousand words.

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They say that falling in love is wonderful.

Kent Hewitt says “They Say It’s Wonderful” by Irving Berlin is perfect in every way.

They say this and they say that.  What do you say?

They say always say please and thank you, so please accept my thanks to all the theys who helped me create this “They say …” post and, of course, to YOU.

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Categories: personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 25 Comments

Day 2254: What’s not inside

What’s not inside our home is this sign, which I saw inside a supermarket last night:

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Have you seen what’s not inside?  How we can we something that’s not there?

What’s not inside my heart and mind, here and now, seen or unseen, includes

  • hate,
  • resentment,
  • fear about the future,
  • regret about the past,
  • expectations about my birthday on Groundhog Day,
  • concern about what other people are thinking about me,  and
  • all the words I wrote, earlier this month, for my latest original song, which I’ll be debuting at an Open Mic in five days.

What IS inside this post are the lyrics for that song, because typing them here might help place them more firmly inside my mind.

What are Other People Thinking About You?

by Ann Koplow

What are other people thinking about you?

Is it something good or something bad?

Who’s to say if you’re somebody they’ve noticed

And what they would be thinking if they had.

Was the person’s dirty look about you?

Was that guy annoyed by something you did?

Could it be he’s thinking instead of his family

Like his most distressing and stressing kid.

People’s thoughts go everywhere,

Of you they’re often not aware,

And even if their thoughts end up on you,

Thoughts can’t hurt you anyway,

Their thoughts will move and go away

Unless you let them stick to you like glue.

What are other people thinking about you?

I think we spend too much time thinking that.

Other people’s thoughts can’t really touch us,

Even judgments, like we’re stupid, old, or fat.

People’s thoughts go everywhere,

Of you they’re often not aware

And even if their thoughts end up on you,

Thoughts can’t hurt you anyway,

Those thoughts will change and go away,

Unless you let them stick to you like glue.

What are other people thinking about you?

Face it, you will never know for sure,

Then why not think they’re thinking that you’re gorgeous,

Talented and smart and secure.

© Ann Koplow, 2019

What’s not inside this post is the second ending to that song, which I wrote in response to what my son, Aaron, was thinking about those lyrics.

What is inside this post, as usual, are my recent and previously unshared photos.

 

What’s not inside that photo montage is a picture of my son’s keyboard, which I plan to put inside my car on Friday and bring with me to the Open Mic.

What’s not inside YouTube are  videos about what’s not inside things. Instead, searching on “What’s not Inside” at YouTube yields videos about what IS inside all the following:

What’s not inside this post, so far, is music. Here is “The Calm Inside the Storm” by Cindi Lauper:

What’s not inside this blog, yet, are comments on this post.

What’s always inside my posts are thanks to all who help me create them and — of course! — to YOU.

 

 

Categories: original song, personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

Day 2229: For now

For now, there’s only one other post I’ve written with the same title as today’s post. (For now, I believe that 2017 post has some useful information in it. For now, you can click on that link to read it.)

For now, today’s post is the only one which also has a photo of “For now.”

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For now, I’m not sure what a “retail incubator” is, but I can show you my other New Year’s Day photos of the Seaport District  of Boston (and, for now, this is the best article I’ve found online about “the hottest neighborhood in town“).

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For now, I have more must-dos for today’s blog.   For now,

  • somebody I’ve known for years is not speaking to me,
  • I’m President of a local professional organization of group psychotherapists,
  • with great power comes great responsibility (I saw the new Spider-Man movie at the Seaport District theater yesterday),
  • I haven’t experienced the full glory of the new Spider-Man movie yet, because a fire alarm screwed up the theater’s computer system and the house lights stayed on for most of the film,
  • I’m  writing a new original song every month,
  • I haven’t made any high quality recordings of any of my songs,
  • I’m still waiting to hear back from the Edinburgh Free Fringe about my show proposal, even though their last email to me three weeks ago said somebody would get back to me “in a few days” and I’ve written them again asking for a response,
  • I’m feeing better about not hearing back now that I’ve read that Edinburgh Free Fringe link, above, and seen that  “our main programming decisions [will be] taking place from the end of January and through February and March”,
  • my son is in Boston on Christmas vacation from University,
  • I haven’t started packing for our Disney World trip this weekend,
  • I feel tired when I walk up stairs, and
  • I have more pictures to share from yesterday.

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For now, there is still plenty left of the best tuna noodle casserole I’ve ever had in my life. For now, I can assume that Michael meets the two criteria I had established for a future boyfriend when I was 10 years old: That my boyfriend love cats and tuna noodle casserole. For now, I’m actually not sure that Michael loves tuna noodle casserole, but he certainly helps me to keep my tuna casserole love alive.

For now, this the best “For Now” song I can find, from the musical Avenue Q.

For now,

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and see you tomorrow.  And for all those who helped me create today’s blog post and for all those who are reading this, thanks for now and beyond!

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Categories: personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , | 31 Comments

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