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Nine Cent Girl

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Posted November 10, 2010

Posted in Life

I love seeing the winter sunrise in the gauzy mist as it creeps a few feet above the half-frozen river all pink and mauve just as much as I love biting into a ripe juicy Long Island peach.

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Moira Donovan

Welcome to my blog, Nine Cent Girl, which is my musings on family, food, and fashion, basically all life brings. This is not a philosophical or an epicurean or haute couture site, but instead a place to affirm all your own notions. I hope my nine cents will encourage you to live life fully!

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People ask us, as people ask of couples who found each other despite bad odds, how did you two meet? Blind date, we always respond in unison. This gets a laugh or a loud what? and we pause, because beyond that agreed upon fact our two memories diverge. Remembering before we were a we is not easy after three decades riding life’s bumps and bends, those close calls and those definitive calls too… #newblogpost #linkinbio #happyanniversary #30thanniversary 🥳

Right now this spot is one of a million in New England which offer such a view. But I am glad this one is ours. Down below a crystal blue lake, rolling hills ablaze with color and expansive open fields to farm. One is overcome with gratitude from this lookout: for the opportunity this grand day afforded and the physical ability to hike to this very place. #newblogpost #linkinbio #vermont #elmore

By the time I was born, my mother’s fourth child but first daughter, my Aunt Barbara had six babies. She became my godmother, but I learned early on that my role in that combo would be to join the long line of her admirers. She was soon to be the mother of eight, and in what seemed a blink a grandmother, and then the next generation had babies. Barbara was a legend for countless reasons, but from my vantage it was always because my mother adored her. My mother became a school girl around her. Chatty and silly and happy. She would go to any length to be with Barbara, and if we little ones were still in tow, inevitably they would shoo us away and a door would close between us. Theirs was always a private world. Even now, years after both their deaths, their relationship remains formidable. Lofty. Legendary. Enviable. Certainly worth remembering. This week I really only want to think of them, hear their big laughs and remember how they endured like stars through every battle. Stars for sure. #newblogpost #linkinbio #tbt ❤️

I can remember the day he was born or at least I have a collage of feelings and images that have melded into memory. It was a warm September day and I was out on my bike along with much of the neighborhood. We were all tooling up and down Crabtree Lane, crisscrossing between driveways and each other. The sun was high in the bluest of Autumn skies when my father came driving home, top down in his red convertible, the blaring orchestral music filling the whole of us. Before that day our family was comprised of 3 boys and 2 girls, and I wished for months with fervent prayer to even the teams. I can still picture my father stepping out of his car, beaming with news of the latest son. I turned my wheels fast and headed down the block in defeat, but that sorrow was short lived, because when the bundle did finally arrive home, I was taken in by a kindred spirit.

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