A Lovely Little Sunday at 3715 Jocelyn, and Happy Birthday to the Mother of Us All

The day started with brunch at Bread and Chocolate with us four sisters and Anja, Charlotte and Ella, where we toasted our father, our brother Charles - who we temporarily released from his responsibilities as our fourth sister to resume his responsibilities as a father - and Charlotte and Ella's dad, who is on a fishing trip with his own. It was followed by a trip to the National Museum of Women in the Arts by the original triumverate, and a carry-out Italian dinner from Maggiano's which Carey and Katy brought home from their late in the day shopping spree at Mazza Gallerie and the Friendship Heights area. Sister Little desperately needed a new little black dress for our trip to the ballet on Wednesday evening and found a great bargain at Filene's, after which I picked them (and the food) up. During dinner, the four of us also managed to bake two pans of cut and bake chocolate chip cookies for dessert with only one or two minor mishaps, one being the choking death of me, Sister Big, due to wine going down the wrong pipe because of laughter during the reading of the directions by Charles.

Jim got home about an hour later than his telephoned eta of 7 p.m. because of some traffic snarl in Pennsylvania, but Charles stayed to visit with him while he unwound and ate some dinner before he headed back to Annapolis for the night. Charles will pick up Dylan and Charley Lauren today and bring them down for an afternoon trip to the zoo with us, and they will all stay for dinner with Uncle Jimmy before Charles takes them back to their mother's in White Marsh. He and Charley Lauren will take off back to Wisconsin, via Kentucky to visit the Boettchers, Tuesday a.m., while Dylan visits his mother for a few weeks, and we three "girls" resume our sister trip without sister number 4.

Today, June 20, 2005, is our mother's birthday. She's quite a woman, and I've written several poems about her, including this one in which I tried to capture some of her life story and some of what I believe is her "essence."

She Picked Pussy Willows

Not so much walking as ambling,
In the sultry Spring and chilly Fall,
To the one room country school,
She picked
Field flowers and pussy willows
For the favored few.
Graceful, tall,
A towheaded willow herself,
She soon steered the others -
Peggy, Glenda, Sue –
When they came along.
One November – she couldn’t resist –
She touched her tongue
To the schoolyard fence.
Once, she forgot her dress,
Wandered out of the house in her slip.
Otherwise, 1930’s farm life
In Northern Wisconsin
Seemed uneventful.
Her best friend was Molly.
Her teachers liked her.
She was smart,
Responsible,
Reliable,
All they could ask for
In a student. At home,
She minded kids,
Washed dishes,
Milked cows,
And helped Grandma clean clothes;
Hauled buckets of water
Up from the creek
For the old machine;
Caught the dripping garments
Coming through the wringer,
Hung them on the line to dry.
Sometimes she stopped to daydream,
Legs dangling from the swing
Slung between the ancient oaks
Behind the house.

Summers. She drove tractor for Grandpa.
Threshed on neighboring farms.
Met the Ortmans.
Russell (the oldest)
Drove her to her high school concert
To play the cello
When Grandpa was late getting home.

Wartime, Spring, 15,
That handsome Tommy Ortman,
(Who had joined the Army a little too young)
Home on leave.
Oh, he was something!

Finally told Grandma,
Who took her to the Doc.
Floppy shirts, loose clothing
Hid it from the sisters
Who were shocked
Understandably upset
When Grandpa told them I had arrived, early,
Mom and I both, critical.

Married Dad in January,
As quick as the Army released him.
Me - I thought their anniversary was in April
Until I was 35.

P.E. Ortman