Sunday segments - Breakfast with the Demings - Abington Art Center

Breakfast with the Demings. Today was Grace's 9-month b'day. It was a riot watching her crawl.

Altho it appears that I'm making a face, said Grace, I really love Daddy's pancakes. Bubby saw the Bisquick mix in the trash. Easy does it, diabetic Bubby, watch them starches!

Quick caveat: While I exhort people never to say "I'm bipolar," here I am doing the same thing calling myself a diabetic instead of the politically correct "person w/ diabetes" (PWB).

But it's so much quicker, and I'm always in a hurry, esp. now. Scott is coming over w/ our dinner that I'll cook. The same meal I had last nite at my friend Ann and Kevin Harris's house: scallops, broiled asparagus w/ parm cheese. The taters are steaming in the electric steamer.


The Harrises live in an exquisite house in Upper Moreland - our town! But they've decided to move to an old folks home in Valley Forge. Darn!

They're younger than me, but, then, isn't everyone?





Oh, that's right, I said to myself, the New Hope & Ivyland steam engine is at the Willow Grove train station, taking passengers to New Hope.

There was an overwhelming response and when I tried to sign up, there wasn't a spot left. I consoled myself by taking photos. And crying my eyes out.

View from the back road leading to the Giant, the hub of the known universe.




These photos are totally out of order.

Abington Art Center has an outdoor Sculpture Park. Look at this sculpture made out of .... trees!

When I photographed this I was walking with some friends - see below - and I got my first out-of-home lo blood sugar attack.

Just like they said I was sweating and felt very shaky.

Luckily I travel with a bag that has in it a Kashi peanut bar. When you're a PWD everything matters, such as the heat and walking across the thick green grass.

I munched on the bar and Mother Ellen reached in her pocketbook and pulled out an orange. She peeled it for me, my hands were still a-shakin, and I ate a few.

Ooh, I just hate when people worry about me.

Pity me... pity me... pity me!

Right before my Big Mac attack. Reading glasses courtesy of Wal*Mart, blue blouse courtesy of Impact Thrift, and Bag, in lower L, courtesy of Blue Cross. I painted over it cuz I'll only advertise for them if they pay me.

Quik note from the Times: the wife of Chinese dissident artist Ai Wei Wei got to see her husband for half an hour. She sat across a table from him, accompanied by a guard, and as far as she could tell he'd been treated well. His 79-yo mom was glad to hear that.

Didn't have time to read this during our walk in the sculpture garden so figured I'd just click on here a couple of times. Ready? Click!



One of the sculptures was a little house - here's the roof - see the bed below - table and chair not shown. Reminded me, believe it or not, of a Pompeii House of Ill Repute, all buried under molten lava.

Below is interior of Abington Art Center. It's the former estate of Lessing J. Rosenwald - Uncle Les. You wish. The place has been totally refurbished. Even the employees don't remember it as it was a decade ago when I used to visit the old place.

Fort'ly the decorators kept a few of the lovely old features.

Below is a mosaic-lined fireplace in the gift shop.


A stairwell is home to this tree that came thru the sidewalk outside the Center.

Only Artists have the sensitivity to so love a tree and memorialize it this way.






Photographs in the lobby show the house when Uncle Les lived there. What a busy man. I could never schedule quality time with him.

Uncle Les, I'd say. May I come over and we'll walk in the garden.

Shucks, Ruthie, just got home from a busy day at Sears - he succeeded his dad as president - and I'm relaxing by playing chess with the wife.


Oh here's a good one! The grand stairway, gift of Patricia and Philip Kind. The first grant New Directions ever got was from their family foundation. Amassed a fortune due to the patenting of fragrances. The Kinds, that is, not your Lil Ruthie.

Dunno who the architect is - art deco - but it's reminiscent of Frank Lloyd Wright.





How clevah! If you're gonna ascend the stairs, why not do it on gorgeous tiles?



Original door leading to a classroom. It was filled with children and their parents participating in an art event.


These fun-lovin' criminals came to AAC with me. When I banked at Wachovia, the financial guy was named Alex someone. His personal blog was 'fun-lovin criminal.'


Artwork currently on exhibit at AAC.