Poet Linda Pastan

As I read Linda Pastan’s obituary in the Washington Post I remembered a book of hers on my shelf. When I read The Last Uncle I was so moved by her poetry, I wrote to her. She wrote back. Fortunately I’d tucked the postcard inside the book. Postmarked 2004.

Because I don’t have permission to reprint her poems here today, my wish is you’ll find one, they are out there on the Internet, read her words and know the world will miss her.

A link to Linda Pastan reading three of her poems.

Here’s a link to Kirk Lawrence reading of one of her poems on YouTube titled My Obituary

Credits-cover design Eleen Cheung.
Cover photograph by Bob Grove of The Artist’s Father by Paul Cezanne from Collection of Mr.and Mrs. Paul Mellon Published by W.W.Norton

Souvenir Guest Gallery

Guest Contributions to Today’s Souvenir Gallery.

A follow-on post  from Tuesday’s Post- Souvenir 

Sometimes you purchase the souvenir yourself, and sometimes a souvenir is brought to you as a gift from a traveling friend.

________________________________Souvenirs from Mary

 

____________________________________Souvenirs from Joanne

_______________________________Souvenirs from Vincie-

______________Terry’s souvenir mug from Norway, just over a month in her possession

____________________________Yvette’s Souvenir Refrigerator Magnets

___________________________________Bobbie’s Souvenirs –

Postcard from London from my sister Mary.  I found it on my fridge today.

Strawberry Rhubarb Preserves Evoke Memories

A bolt of lightning knocked out the internet so blogging from my phone
Rhubarb says Spring to me.
When the three kids were younger, we’d pile in the car and drive 7 hours to New York City to visit my sister. I’d park in the lot by the pier on the Hudson and we’d make our way up the five floor walk-up to her apartment. Everyone would be asleep on the floor camping out and in the early morning, Aunt Mary would walk to Zito’s Bakery on Bleecker Street, come home with warm loaves. She’d have the butter out and a jar of her homemade strawberry rhubarb preserves. She’d slice the bread on a wooden board. That’s what the kids woke up to – warm bread and butter and strawberry rhubarb preserves-

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Berenice Abbott took this photo of Zito’s in 1937.

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Today I went to the Farmer’s market on the South Side and bought two bunches of rhubarb and fresh picked strawberries. I was trying to remember the method and chopped the stalks in one inch pieces, put them into a large enamel kettle and sprinkled with sugar to sit.

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Added the strawberries and cooked it down. I wish it wasn’t so late and I could have called for the recipe. Just did it from memory.

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The loaf from the Farmers Market on the bread board, a gift from my sister.

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Postcard stamp on the back of Zito’s card a dime. I pulled it out of the frame tonight. Read what you wrote.

Before Matthew was born and he’s 33!

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Kids grown up and gone but tonight as I taste the strawberry rhubarb preserves, I remember.

P.S. And to answer your question Mary, on the card-
I did get that assistantship and that’s how I was able to get hired at Pittsburgh Public Schools in 1989!

P.P.S. Zito’s is gone now.