15 June 2013, Orange, Connecticut Camp Cedarcrest, by the Wepawaug River
Dima waiting patiently
Grandma Nina and Vladimir, father of the groom, waiting patiently
Larisa and Tim ~ photo by Susan Kwan
6.15.13 ~ Orange, Connecticut
Larisa reading her vows
Dima reading his vows
a kiss
matron and maid of honor, Alyssa and Alicia
Larisa & Dima…Tim & Barbara
our dear friends from Macedonia, Bojan and his sister Ana
Larisa
Dima
Larisa made the dress with help from her friend, Brit; Janet and I went to New York City to help Larisa pick out the fabric
Svetlana, mother of the groom
karavai, Russian wedding bread
tradition is that the person getting the bigger bite “controls” the marriage
the newlyweds
best man, Dave
Tim, father of the bride
Vlad, father of the groom
Aunt Delorma, who has been like a mother to both Tim and me, and a very special grandaunt to Larisa
the lights of my life, Nate, Larisa and Jon
cousins Erica, Larisa and Erin
cousins Nate, Jon, Larisa, David, Erica and Erin
Larisa and me
Tim and Larisa
Nate and Larisa
Nate, Tim, Dima, Larisa, Barbara and Jon
Larisa and Eliza
Toby and Larisa
Drew, Janet and Tim
my favorite picture!
Shea helped me out with a lot of the picture-taking, and Svetlana made all the lovely decorations. Dima & Larisa created an amazing wedding and reception, in a perfect setting, and we could not have asked for better weather. A very special day for all of us to remember forever.
An interesting side note – all of the women in the bridal party and the mothers and grandmothers and grandaunt have names that end with an “a.” Larisa; her attendants, Alyssa, Alicia, Erica and Lisa; the mothers, Barbara and Svetlana; Dima’s grandmothers, Nina and Anna; and Larisa’s grandaunt, Delorma.
This past weekend we took a long walk in the woods at Connecticut College Arboretum, and found ourselves fascinated with all the dead and dying trees. Some have been recently toppled, either by Hurricane Sandy or Blizzard Charlotte. This is the time of year to see deep into the woods, before the view is obscured by green foliage.
a mighty one fallen
This fallen tree brought underground stones, embedded in its root system, up into the air, along with the soil.
Tim (5’8″) to give some perspective
skunk cabbage
Skunk cabbage is one of the first plants to bloom in spring. Its flowers are often partly or wholly hidden beneath last year’s fallen leaves. Like many other dark-colored flowers, skunk cabbage is pollinated mostly by flies. The flowers actually produce heat — a benefit to the flies out in cold weather. The leaves emerge after the flowers. They smell unpleasant if they are crushed, hence the name “skunk cabbage.” ~ Connecticut Botanical Society
dying of natural causes
living with scars and imperfections
roots anchored in massive boulders
boulders deposited by ancient glaciers
roots partly above water
swamp reflections
mushrooms!
Imperfection is in some sort essential to all that we know of life. It is a sign of life in a mortal body, that is to say, a state of progress and change. Nothing that lives is, or can be rigidly perfect; part of it is decaying, part nascent. ~ John Ruskin (The Stones of Venice)
Lizzie, 5, made this drawing, a Christmas gift for me 12.31.11 ~ Athol, Massachusetts
Viktor and Aneta Urich of Grande Prairie [Alberta, Canada] welcomed the birth of their 100th grandchild earlier this month – newborn Henry Urich, ninth child of Tatjana and Heinrich Urich. Heinrich is one of Viktor and Aneta’s 16 children.
How does he keep them all straight?
“Good question,” laughs Viktor, 62. “Sometimes when I look, I say ‘What’s your name?'”
Clarice playing hide and seek with unidentified imp
Yesterday we went to visit Tim’s cousin in Massachusetts, who was hosting a family Christmas gathering. Four generations, ranging in age from 2 to 75 years old. Twenty-seven people in all, including one aunt, four cousins, nine second cousins, two third cousins, and not to be overlooked, six spouses and significant others and five foster children. Or, using another method for sorting the gang out, fifteen adults, three teens and nine little ones. We had but two hours on our way home to sort out the numbers and connections… Not as impressive as the couple in Alberta but…
We did our share of asking, “What’s your name?”
Dima & Larisa, familiar faces
We weren’t there two minutes when little Delyah, 2, inquired “Who are you?” and then put me to work brushing her pony’s hair and fastening barrettes on its tail.
In a little while Nova, 4, sporting sparkly temporary tattoos on her arms, introduced herself and asked me where my tattoos were. (Both her parents have visible tattoos.) I regretted having to disappoint her.
As the afternoon went on, a little one of uncertain age kept saying,”Thanks, Santa,” when Tim would toss one of the balloons her way. Do you think it had something to do with his whitish beard and all the red he was wearing?
Santa?
It was wonderful seeing everybody again, and meeting new additions to the clan. A clan that adores its children!
Tim & I got ourselves a new camera for Christmas and it was our first chance to use it. So far we’re very pleased with the results and we have so much more to learn about using it!
Hannah, 9, made this pet rock, a Christmas gift for her dad
One day I would have all the books in the world, shelves and shelves of them. I would live my life in a tower of books. I would read all day long and eat peaches. And if any young knights in armor dared to come calling on their white chargers and plead with me to let down my hair, I would pelt them with peach pits until they went home. ~ Jacqueline Kelly (The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate)
Today we went to Holmberg Orchards to pick a few peaches for Tim. There were some nectarines ready to be plucked, too – lucky me!
On the way home Tim spotted a gnarly old tree sporting a few mushrooms!
tree on our road
And after a lot of fuss and bother in the kitchen, a portion of homemade peach cobbler for my honey!
It was 4°F when I got up this morning. A year ago in January it wasn’t this cold when we had visitors for a weekend, Tim’s youngest cousin and her three children. Allegra is 18 years younger than Tim, who is the oldest in that group of cousins. (The span between the oldest – Nate – and the youngest – Lizzie – second cousins is even greater – 30 years! But they are not part of this particular story.) I hadn’t started By the Sea yet, so I’m remembering this wonderful day here now.
So… on one day of the visit we decided that taking a long cold walk at Bluff Point would be an invigorating way to release some pent-up energy…
January 2010 ~ Bluff Point State Park Groton, Connecticut
Bluff Point is a 1½ mile long peninsula here in Groton which juts out into Long Island Sound. It is part Connecticut State Park and part Coastal Reserve. The trails meander through the woods and open areas and finally lead to the bluff. The main trail is a four mile loop.
Winter is an etching… ~ Stanley Horowitz
The Poquonnock River (above) is on the west side of the peninsula, and on this day we followed the river. Cold as it was there were lots of people out and about, walking dogs, riding horses, and jogging, as well as walking like we were.
The winter sun is striking… Families who come outdoors find some satisfaction for the hunger to connect with nature and with each other, in any season.
Tim and Blake
A glimpse of a beach in the distance helps to encourage us forward, in spite of very rosy cheeks!
Blake
We didn’t make it to the bluff because we took a detour to Bluff Point Beach, which faces the sound and stretches into a barrier between the sound and the river, Bushy Point Beach. The Great Hurricane of 1938 (aka the Great New England Hurricane) washed away more than a hundred cottages here, which were never rebuilt. (Mother Nature doesn’t have to tell the typical New Englander twice when rebuilding would be a bad idea!) The storm surge also breached Bushy Point Beach which created an island at its western end.
We endured the wind a little while to explore the beach, and Allegra found a whelk egg case.
We were so cold by then that we decided to retrace our steps back to the car. So in the end we walked almost four miles, according to the pedometers. We came home to a round or two of hot cocoa…
Blake, Ariana and Clarice
Maybe our family will come see us again in a different season, and perhaps then we’ll make it to the bluff – we were so close! – and finish the loop on the other, eastern side of the peninsula!
Each of our lives is a path. To know this requires intuition and trust. If we are true to the steps we take, the travel makes sense and the journey confirms itself. ~ Lin Jensen
