Hidden Muse

 



 

Wall art by Chase Toboni

If you’re in need of inspiration clean out a closet. Recently we installed carpeting in our house and that meant clearing the floor in our closets. Years ago, one wall we never had the heart to paint over was in my son’s room. Chase, at age four, had a passion for scribbling, and we decided to give him the inside of a closet wall for his doodles. While he doodled he seemed to be at peace.      

Chase has a mild form of autism and repetitious activities are the norm. Coloring seemed something he could do. Rainbows, in particular, appealed to him. He drew them religiously, and who could not be pleased when viewing a child’s rendition of a rainbow? Birthdays, holidays, and gifts for no other seeming reason than to announce to the world that he was among us. What a simple thing to give someone, an upside-down smile of happiness.

Years later, in high school, a teacher suggested he join a ceramics class. Chase seemed to have an interest in art, and his teacher had caught on. Art calmed him down. It was one way he could be included in a normal classroom. He seemed to enjoy clay and he produced these ornamental objects. They may look a bit ungainly but they are expressions of the soul, just like any creation.

I proudly displayed these objects for a time, but later wrapped them in newspaper and stashed them away in a paper bag marked Chase’s sculptures. These few forays into the art world also produced a brown mask-like sculpture of me, which I put outside in a planter box, but it later broke. According to my son, it was me in the morning, my hair all scraggly coming out the sides of my face like short ribbons of mud. He called the piece, “Mom’s Hair.” Good subject, bad look for me. That’s how it ended up outside. Wish I had stashed it in the closet too for safe-keeping.   

Chase in 10th grade with his ceramic pieces.

Toast to our Future

Now that it's in black and white it feels real. Today's Napa Valley Register headline reads, Computer Business Owners to Retire. Below is our letter to the editor.
 

Cheers!

Dear Editor:

In 1995 David Toboni started our business, Able Computers. His motivation was a new computer we had just purchased. In no time David had created an “irreversible error terminate” message on the new pc's screen. 

Our neighbor then, Dr. John Hazlet, said, “All you have to do is sys the boot drive.”

Booting to a floppy drive and sys the c drive did work. Success! After that David was hooked knowing he could experiment, and if he failed he could get the computer running again.

More and more curious, David expanded his knowledge in building computers, networking systems, and helping friends. He took training in 1993 with Clarity Technologies, for two years. He also took classes at Diversified Office Training in Rutherford and worked at Computers Online in Santa Rosa.

            Now, after 20 years in business we are announcing our retirement. Prior to David’s years in the computer business, he had worked in construction along with a handful of other jobs, forty-five years in all.

It’s time to slow down. David and I want to thank everyone that has come to him for help for the past twenty years. We’ve met so many folks that will remain friends. David has always said, “I can’t think of a better place to work and raise a family.” I agree. I have worked alongside David managing our office and keeping the books. We have two grown sons that are also employed in Napa.

It’s a little sad to say goodbye, but we feel the community will be in good hands. Computer Engineering Group has purchased Able Computers. Jorge Zetina, the owner, has just celebrated his tenth year in business, and we feel Jorge and his team are a good fit for our clients.

David and Barbara Toboni
Able Computers
 
 
 

Spring Snapshots

Photo by Barbara Toboni

The sun’s embrace triggering one’s shoulders to unwind

Windows so clean I can’t tell if I am standing inside or outside

Hummingbird playing in the spray of my sprinklers

Dazzling orange lilies and pink frilled azaleas blooming on my back porch

Tabby cat scratching her back in the pebbled dust of the vegetable garden  

A fragrant fusion of rose, lavender, and jasmine while out for a stroll 

The remembered scent of Grandma’s towels washed in Sweetheart Soap
and hung out on a line to dry

Snacking on a ripe, creamy, avocado

Tasting a ripe mango and dreaming of a sunny locale far away

First drive of the season out to the coast along with the first sighting

of the sea and its magnificence


HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

We're All In

photo by Pete Prodoehl

"Thank you for submitting "Chase at Bat." We are happy to tell you that we have selected your piece for potential inclusion in the 2015 Redwood Writers Anthology."

Yay! This is the first sentence of an email I received from the editors of the current California Writers Club anthology project, Journeys. I'm excited for a couple of reasons. First, this is the 10th anniversary edition. Second, this is the first time all of the members of my critique group will have pieces included in a Redwood Writers Anthology. Amber Lee Starfire is the overall editor, and Marilyn Campbell, Patsy Ann Taylor, and I are authors of short stories. We're all in!

My story, Chase at Bat, has been revised, rejected, and revised again at least four times now, and it's ready for a new editor to help me shine it up once more. Originally, I had thought I would include the story in a collection of stories about raising Chase, and that is still a future possibility. 

"Chase at Bat" is a story about my autistic son, Chase, and his first introduction to sports. At age eight my son surprised me by his ability to take part in a team sport. It was the beginning of a journey for both of us.

I will be assigned an editor by May 1st. Stay tuned for the launch date of our new anthology and order your own copy, or click if you would like more information about the Redwood Writers. 

Since joining the club in 2010, other Redwood anthologies that my work has appeared in are, The Sound of a Thousand Leaves in 2011 and Water in 2014.

Thanks to Patsy. She wanted me to attach this note to my post.
("It should be noted that all of the anthology submissions were blind (no names attached) and Amber had no idea who the accepted authors were.
In fact, when we had our critique group meetings, we couldn't share anything about what we were submitting. Amber didn't want to know anything about our work. And we didn't tell.")      

Go Slammers

Chase and Jim

My two sons are on the same men's basketball team called the Slammers. Last week they won their first game. It was fun watching the two of them play, but their games weren't always enjoyable to watch. When they were teenagers they fought so much that I gave their basketball a new name-- "cannon ball" as in Go play cannon ball. I have to make dinner. 

Chase is four years older than Jim, but he has a mild form of autism. Learning something new is complicated for him and he is often frustrated. He has a competitive nature, and because he is older he feels he should be better than Jim at everything. I remember a lot of shrieking. Jim would try to explain a rule, for example dribbling. "Chase, don't hang on to the ball without dribbling. You have to learn the rules."

"You’re not smarter than me!” Chase did not like to be one-upped by his little brother.

I had no luck at being their referee. Round and round and on and on they'd go until I couldn't ignore them any longer. Did you ever try to get between two angry teenage boys? Hot and sweaty boys?  Little old mom couldn’t do much but yell or hide till it was over.  Sometimes I could distract them. “Anyone want a cold drink?”  Put vodka in mine!

Jim was a good kid, but he didn't have a lot of patience, and Chase needed chill pills. Gradually, we learned to separate them with team sports. Both boys liked baseball so we got them involved with Little League, and when Chase joined Special Olympics he was able to learn game rules.

I don’t know what I expected from them when I sent them out the door with a basketball—I mean all siblings fight—but our fights were made worse by the autism. That’s why it’s such a pleasure to see them play on the same team. 

GO SLAMMERS! 

The Christmas Guest

Grandpa's fishing lure.

      

            It's a week before Christmas and our two boys are decorating the tree when I notice a fishing lure has mysteriously appeared on our coffee table. ""It's made from a spoon of steel," Dave says when I ask, “for catching big stripers. This one my father made.  I found it in the garage in my old tackle box.”

Dave describes how his father, dead for many years now, liked to make his own lures. He'd buy a lure at the store that he liked and then copy it down at the steel shop, where he had been a stainless steelworker. 

            My youngest son, James, was named after him. Our sons had never known him, only knew that he had liked the outdoors and had died suddenly from a heart attack at Trinity Lake on a hunting trip. There had been three children in all─ three children who would grow up missing their father.

            I bring out a photo album and show the kids pictures. A young Grandpa dressed in khakis sitting on a rock wall, a bit of scenery behind him, one of him kneeling by an old camp tent, and one sitting on an old Chevy with his hunting rifle. I liked the photo dated October 1962 with all three young children and Dave's mother, but my favorite is an old black and white close-up of his handsome face peering down at my Dave, his first-born son. 

            The boys wanted to know more about their grandfather so Dave shared a story. “My father liked to get up at 3 or 4 in the morning to go fishing, and he would invite me to go along. He’d set the alarm and tell me to be ready when it was time to go. One morning when the alarm rang I was so tired I fell back asleep. When I finally woke up I found that he had gone fishing without me. That was how my father taught me the importance of being punctual. After that I didn’t miss any more fishing trips. I jumped right out of bed all set to go.”

Dave wipes the shiny surface of the fishing lure with a wet towel until it gleams. "Looks like a Christmas ornament," he says.

"Yes, this is perfect," I say, "to have him back again with us as a guest for Christmas."               

 

 

 

 

           

Why Stop There?

When our bookcase toppled in the earthquake we piled books in a spare room and studied the empty area left in the hallway. Why buy a new case and set it up against old paint and flooring, so we painted the wall and thought about a new floor.

But why stop there? The kitchen floor is on the schedule for replacement next year. We should replace it now so it matches the floor under the new bookcase.

And if we are doing the floor under the bookcase in the hall, and in the kitchen, then we should add the two bathrooms. It makes more sense to buy big chunks of flooring and do it all at once.

But why stop there? Around the corner, the bathroom could do with some brightening. Has it really been 20 years since the last coat of paint? And the lights, faucets, and towel racks are ancient. We’ll shop for the latest designs.       

The master bath needs an update too. Won’t that look sharp?

But why stop there? We’ll spruce up the kitchen walls, and while we’re at it, let’s paint the whole inside of the house. That way it will be ready for the new carpeting next spring.

But why stop there? Because we will run out of money till next spring!

PLAN FOR NEXT YEAR:

New carpeting.  Paint the outside of the house to match the new insides. 

OOPS, HOLD EVERYTHING. WE CAN’T DO ANYTHING UNTIL WE FIX THE ROOF BEFORE RAINY SEASON!

Napa's earthquake in August served as motivation for our home improvements. What motivates you?

Cherish Sleep

August 24th: Able Computers

After the earthquake slammed Napa on August 24^th, I had trouble getting a good night’s sleep. I didn’t trust the quiet of my room or my bed’s ability to stay put. Even the steady breathing of my husband beside me didn’t convince me to close my eyes for long as if my nervous system stood guard. And according to all the articles I read in our local paper, I wasn’t alone. Some say we are all suffering from PTSD.

Now that I am beginning to sleep better, my newly energized self is finding that there have been lots of little mistakes going on behind my back, or should I say behind my mind. For instance, at my job (Able Computers, our home-based business) I had forgotten to mark off a big stack of invoices that had been paid. Recently, I found an overdue bill in a dusty pile outside! It’s no surprise. We cleaned up too fast, shoved stuff in corners, or in containers, and hauled it all outside until we could re-organize.

One columnist for the paper described her condition as feeling discombobulated— I love that word. Me too! As my world went out of whack my organizational skills went bye-bye. A simple trip to the grocery store was an ordeal. Not only did I forget to consult my list, I skipped whole isles. No frozen food: peas, waffles, or ice cream!    

I should explain that the day after the quake our relatives from out of town rallied around us. They spent hours here muddling through the mess. At one point my husband, Dave, told everyone just take it all out of the office and we’ll put things back in, one item at a time.

My brother-in-law kept muttering, “You’ve got too much stuff.”

It’s true we have too much stuff—had too much stuff. Back in the house, glass, glass, glass. So many things are made of glass: figurines, sugar bowls, liquor bottles, china—almost all my pretty tea cups. My sister-in-law, a retired school teacher kept me focused, “If we can just get your main living space in order, you’ll feel better.”

By the time they left I did feel better. Thank you, family!

Able Computers opened for business on Monday as usual. Maybe that was our problem. We didn’t give ourselves time to process what happened. Now, a few weeks down the road Dave describes the event as not unlike a bad accident, and we are grieving the things that we lost. We should give ourselves time to do that, not shake it off too quickly and announce that all is well.

It wasn’t. It was terrifying. No wonder I lost sleep, but now that I am sleeping better I shall always remember to cherish it. 

 
For comment, share a bit of your experience with an earthquake or any other disaster.

A Mother's Blessing

Jim and Whitney Toboni

A Mother’s Blessing

Jim and Whitney Toboni, August 20, 2014

 

I have no idea how two people know from the moment they meet

that they will always be together
How did I know when I met David that he was the one?
How did Tim and Dawn know when their eyes locked?
I’m just delighted all of us ended up together
because the result is Jim and Whitney, and they are clearly in love

Theirs is a modern fairytale

Even when the two were far apart
Whitney studying in Bakersfield, Jim working in Napa
There was a bond from iphone to iphone
Did you see their adorable notes on facebook?
Tap, tap, tap, “I love ya foreva”
Tap, tap, tap, “In 13 hours I’ll pick you up
from the train station”─ 3 exclamation points, 4 hearts
Tap, tap, tap, kiss, kiss, kiss
Shoot a picture
Share

Intangible ideas

That’s what I believe in
Fate and magic
There is a will that created this event
A spell swirling in a tropic-scented breeze
Intensified by exotic cocktails
And the gaze of a lover’s eyes
 

Love is a powerful emotion

No matter how sappy and sentimental it looks
I will shed tears by the end of this toast
Jim, I’m so happy for you
Whitney, welcome to our family

Today is August 20th, 2014

I offer this toast with my tears as a blessing
Congratulations! I love you both!

 

(My wedding toast at son, Jim's wedding in Mexico.)

A Couch Tale

Photo and design by David Toboni

I cannot look at my couch without smiling. That’s why I chose it for my office, certainly not because it’s an exact match for the paint or carpeting. Now, as the sunlight streams in through the seams of the white mini-blinds and a breeze dances the shadow of leaves from our Crepe Myrtle across its colorful fabric, I marvel at the fanciful design. Blue tulips, yellow daisies, and orange lilies bloom along a green vine against a backdrop of sandy brown.

 If I lie here I might fall asleep and dream I am sailing on my couch. Odd, but that’s how dreams are. Tulip blue, daisy yellow, and vine green sheets bellow in a swift breeze as surfers and boaters point at me and wave, or brandish their flags as I glide by.

“How do you like my boat?” I call. Sofa crafts are so comfortable. Why don’t I see more of them?

Out, out, out, I soar beyond the buoys; until I find myself in open waters, but I’m not afraid knowing my ship will keep me safe.

Dolphins, their bodies shimmering gray, crisscross my bow. “Where are we going?” I ask.

They answer telepathically, “Be patient. Let your imagination lead you.”

While I am eager to discover new vistas, I am happy to stay here adrift in pristine waters, the sun warming me, gulls wheeling in a brilliant sky, waves lapping, matching the rhythm of each breath. Am I dreaming or is this a meditative state? Om, om, om, I invite my muse to join me. “Send me a sign.”  

A great skipjack tuna leaps from the sea, and a cat appears. A cat at sea?  Another oddity?

No, it’s my cat, Sammy. She’s ready to reclaim her spot on the couch.  

This post was inspired by a writing exercise posted by Amber Starfire.  http://www.writingthroughlife.com/