Posts Tagged With: South Shore of Boston

Day 2452: Be prepared to stop

Yesterday, on the first day of my two-week vacation, I was prepared to stop and  to appreciate this sign in Beverly, Massachusetts, USA.

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Be prepared to

  • stop,
  • look,
  • listen,
  • think,
  • feel,
  • connect,
  • change,
  • move on, and
  • encounter lots of photos from the South and the North shores of Boston.

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Be prepared to stop while you’re in the middle of creating a blog post in order to go to the dentist and then take your cat to the vet because, after all, what else should you be doing on your vacation?

Be prepared to stop, take a breath, and share the rest of your photos from yesterday:

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Be prepared to stop and tell me what photos you liked best and why.

Be prepared to stop and enjoy these tunes by the Zombies, stopping and appearing soon at the Cabot in Beverly.

I’m always prepared to stop and express my thanks to those who help me create these daily blog posts and to all those who read them, including you!

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Categories: personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 28 Comments

Day 2445: Hard to describe

It’s hard to describe

  • what’s going on in the world,
  • what’s going on inside,
  • values,
  • moods,
  • feelings,
  • body experiences,
  • what you’re thinking,
  • what other people are thinking,
  • what’s important,
  • love,
  • hope,
  • grief,
  • conflict,
  • connection,
  • anxiety,
  • depression,
  • stress,
  • problems,
  • solutions,
  • the past,
  • the future,
  • the present, and
  • many other things.

And yet, I try to describe what’s hard to describe here, every day, with words and pictures.

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It’s hard to describe how much it helps me to

  • blog,
  • eat healthy meals prepared with love, and
  • look for what’s beautiful in the world.

Here‘s “How Hard to Describe What I Am” by 13th-century Persian poet Rumi:

What’s hard to describe, for you?  I hope you describe it in a comment, below.

The depths of my gratitude for all who help me create these posts and all who read them (including you) may be hard to describe, but here goes:

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Categories: personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 20 Comments

Day 2436: Girls never quit

Yesterday, after spending  time with a wise  girl in her 70s who just won’t quit and who recently received a new diagnosis of a chronic illness,  I saw this:

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The girl writing this blog will never quit

  • appreciating others,
  • observing,
  • stopping to smell the flowers,
  • healing,
  • hoping,
  • loving,
  • connecting,
  • renewing,
  • revealing,
  • looking for the beauty in every moment,
  • knowing that life is good,
  • putting herself out there,
  • believing in the power of groups, and
  • taking pictures.

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Those last three photos show my boyfriend who won’t quit until he dismantles and gets rid of that hot tub.

This girl never quits looking for videos that won’t quit, like this one by a girl who never gives up:

I hope you never quit accepting all your feelings, which you are welcome to express in a comment, below.

This girl never quits expressing gratitude, so thanks to all who help me continue creating this blog and — of course! —  to YOU.

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Categories: group therapy, personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 22 Comments

Day 2430: That’s it.

Yesterday, when I saw this in a supermarket …

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… I thought, “That’s it.  That’s the name of tomorrow’s blog.”

“That’s it” reminds me of this dialogue from one of my favorite movies, The Producers:

Leo: I feel so strange.

Max: Maybe you’re happy.

Leo:  That’s it. I’m happy.

That’s it.   Three wonderful lines of dialogue.  As Film Quotations: 11,000 Lines Spoken On Screen, Arranged by Subject and Indexed describes that interchange: “Accountant Gene Wilder needs Broadway Producer Zero Mostel‘s help in identifying a feeling that is rare for him. ”

That’s it. My life’s work involves helping people in identifying feelings.

That’s it. It’s time for my other photos from yesterday.

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That’s it for my photos of a local supermarket, food, sunsets, and Harley (for now). And that’s it for the latest U.S. heat wave.

Here‘s “That’s It!” by Preservation Hall Jazz Band.

That’s it for today’s blog post, except for my thanks to all who helped me create today’s post and — of course! — to YOU.

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Categories: personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

Day 2424: Getting your needs met

Have you been getting your needs met? If so, how do you do that? If not, what gets in the way?

Yesterday, as I was getting my needs met at work, I found this:

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I wrote “Getting your needs met Group” on that manilla folder years ago, probably when I was getting ideas about how to help people get their needs met in group.

These days, I’m  doing very well at getting my needs met, except my need for sleep.  I wish I didn’t need to sleep, because there are so many exciting things to plan for and do!

Do you see anything about getting your needs met in these other recent photos?

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Cats are very good at getting their needs met.

When I search YouTube for “Getting your needs met song,” YouTube tries to meet my needs with “The Muffin Song.”

Apparently that song is meeting people’s needs, because it has over 126 million views. I suspect those characters need a good therapy group.

I’m getting my needs met by sharing these songs (here, here, here, and  here, if you need links) about needs:

 

If sharing your thoughts and feelings in a comment might help get your needs met, please do so.

Every day, I get my blogging needs met here, so I need to thank everybody who helps with that, including YOU.

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Categories: group therapy, personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 15 Comments

Day 2414: Looking for love

If you’re looking for love, don’t be looking at the news. Instead, try looking around you.

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After I took those two photos yesterday morning at the parking garage near work, I knew I’d be looking for love for the rest of the day.   Winston, who works at that parking garage, was looking at me as I was capturing those images, so I explained to him what I was doing. (If you’re looking for more about Winston, you should be looking here, here,  here, and here.) Winston, looking serious, told me people who are looking for love can see it. As I was looking at him, he  also told me that he and I would both live on after death. I told him I’d be looking for him in the afterlife. He said, “You might not recognize me,” so I replied,  “I think I’d recognize you, Winston.”  He was looking happy when I walked away.

Here are the results of my looking for love for the rest of the day:

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Do you agree that if you ‘re looking for love, you’ll see it?

Looking for a song about looking for love?

You can find those “Looking for Love” tunes  by looking on YouTube here, here, here, here, and here.

I’ll be looking for your comments on this “Looking for Love” post.

Looking for gratitude from me for all those who helped me create this post and for you? Look no further.

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

Day 2412: Special Operations

Yesterday, on a special day, I noticed “Special Operations” on a parked  police motorcycle.

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I thought, “I’m going to be interviewed for a special podcast tonight about my special heart and several special operations, including open heart surgery.”  As I was taking that special photo for today’s “Special Operations” blog post,  I heard somebody speaking to me and that turned out to be special operations officer Hicks:

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I explained to Officer Hicks, “I took that photo because I’ve had many special operations on my heart.”  He said something special, like “Those special operations must have gone well because you look pretty good considering you’ve had all those special operations.”   He also said he didn’t think he was handsome enough to be in a blog, which I thought was especially modest.

Officer Hicks and many other special operations officers were in Boston yesterday, in preparation for the special Boston 4th of July celebration today. Minutes after I photographed special operations officer Hicks, I noticed something special on my car.

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I thought, “What?!?! It’s true that I just spent a long time getting a special teeth cleaning and also talking to my special dentist Dr. Del Castillo, who is doing so well after having the special operation of a double lung transplant, but I don’t think that took over two hours!”  I looked more closely and saw this special reason for that ticket:

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Since when do they give out special tickets for being over 1 ft from the curb, especially since only the back of my car barely met that special criteria?

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I know that special operations officer Hicks is not somebody who gives out tickets and —  in case he thinks that I’m looking for special treatment —  I already did an online special operation last night to pay it.

Do you see any special operations in my other special photos from yesterday?

As you can see from those photos, I did a special operation of pre-medicating before my dental cleaning and did a special operation  when I got home — trying out a new cat carrier on Oscar, our cat-in-a-bag.

After my special boyfriend Michael and I walked around our special neighborhood last night (and saw some unexpectedly special fireworks and a special beach bonfire), we danced to this special 4th of July song:

Now, I’m going to request that you do the special operation of making a comment, below.

Happy July 4th to everybody who performs the special operation of reading this blog, including YOU!

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It took me several special operations to upload my photos today. I hope you don’t have to perform any special operations to see them!

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

Day 2407: Tell me about it

I’m going to tell you about Merriam-Webster’s definition of “tell me about it.”

tell me about it (idiom)

Definition of tell me about it
informal
—used to say that one understands what someone is talking about because one has had the same or a similar experience
“Something is wrong with that computer.” “Yeah, tell me about it. I can never get it to work properly.”

I don’t know if something is wrong with my computer, but I can’t post a shortened version of this video (in which I seem to be saying “Tell me about it” for 18 minutes) (and which I first told you about in this post) to YouTube.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1xTT1B5mT6uiWAp_Z-k4MB9fcDFDGg8Mb/view?usp=sharing

Let me tell you about what happens when I (and perhaps you)  click on that link.  I receive a message that says “Unable to process this video.”  However, I could still download it, although I got a message that told me “Google Drive can’t scan this file for viruses. Free.mp4 (1.4G) is too large for Google to scan for viruses. Would you still like to download this file?”

Too complicated or too much trouble?  Tell me about it.

Once my son returns from teaching English in Jordan, maybe he can tell me about how to post that video (which he shot in our gazebo two weeks ago) to YouTube.  If you do look at the video, tell me about which title you prefer:

  • “Tell me about it.”
  • “Free therapy with Ann.”
  • “I’m listening.”

I can also tell you about the original, unedited, noisy, uncentered version of that video, which is here:

At this point, when I’m looking at a preview of this post, I’m telling you that video has this message: “Please wait. We are converting this video.”

Tell me about it.

In the meantime, I’m going to tell you about these recent photos I haven’t told you about before.

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Which is your favorite photo?  Tell me about it.

Tell me about your reactions to this music in the air:

 

I want to break free of more technical problems, but I won’t tell you about it.  Instead, I’ll tell you about my gratitude to all who support my telling you about it, every day, here on WordPress.

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Thoughts about those ways of expressing gratitude?  Tell me about it.


YouTube now tells me that this very abbreviated, silent version of “Free Therapy with Ann” has shown up there.

My expression in that still shot, above, seems to say, “Tell me about it.”  If I manage to post a longer version, I’ll tell you about it.

Categories: blogging, definition, group therapy, personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , | 14 Comments

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

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