Remembering Frank McCourt

Last night I participated in a very special event called Remembering Frank McCourt, a memorial gathering at Symphony Space for the Pulitzer Prize winning author of Angela's Ashes who died on July 19. Members of The Washington Square Harp and Shamrock Orchestra (WSHSO) led by Mick Moloney and Jimmy Crowley, offered songs and traditional tunes to conclude a lovely evening of remembrances by friends, colleagues, former students, and family. Backstage afterwards, photographer James Higgins took our picture with David Amram, who played an remarkably creative version of Amazing Grace on the low D whistle, and Malachy McCourt, who led the entire audience in singing Wild Mountain Thyme.

Left to right: Liz Kennedy, Jimmy Crowley, me, Mick Moloney, Daniel Neely,
Malachy McCourt, David Amram, Tony Horswill, Kate Bowerman.

Through my Irish music connections, I have actually met several of the McCourt brothers. My friend Ashley Davis introduced me to Frank after her February 2009 concert at Joe's Pub. I was completely starstruck, but Frank's charm and wit immediately put me at ease. I met Frank's youngest brother Alphie in December 2008 after performing at a Christmas concert at the Irish Arts Center. I have heard Malachy speak at various WSHSO events, and after the Symphony Space memorial, we chatted a bit. Made me laugh, he did!


Looking back, I view reading Angela's Ashes as a turning point in my life. I read it the year before our family's trip to Ireland in 2003. During our visit we went to the city of Limerick and took the 2-hour Angela's Ashes tour, visiting many of the places mentioned in the book. Back in NYC, my quest to hear more Irish music led me to Mick Moloney's History of Celtic Music course at New York University. Mick invited me to join the WSHSO, and my journey in Irish music was off and running. Traditional music gave me a fresh approach to flute playing and allowed me to re-enter the world of music after a 20-year hiatus. And it all started with Frank McCourt's book.

What struck me most about the Symphony Space memorial was how many, many people Frank McCourt seemed to have influenced in one way or another. Perhaps the true measure of greatness is not your grandest achievement but rather your power to change the lives of others... just because they knew you or read your books.


________________
Recommended reading:

• A Remembrance of Frank McCourt, by Elizabeth Kadetsky, The Rumpus, July 24, 2009. (beautifully written description of a student's relationship with her teacher)
• Frank McCourt Remembered and Honored, by Michael Coffey, Publisher's Weekly, October 7, 2009. (a recap of the Symphony Space memorial)
• Frank McCourt and the Memorable Memoir, New York Times Week in Review article, July 25, 2009
• New York Times obituary, July 19, 2009
• Time.com obituary, July 19, 2009

Recommended viewing:

• Frank McCourt's 2002 Commencement Address at Fieldston High School, one of NYC's prestigious private high schools. (It's all one well crafted speech, so watch both video clips. It's quintessential Frank McCourt.)

© 2009, Linda Mason Hood
Truffles, Turtles & Tunes Copyright Statement

Migration Assistant Misery

Misery is surely a fitting description for my experience with Apple's Migration Assistant utility. Hoping to save someone else from a similar ordeal, I'm going to share my experience.

I recently replaced my son's 4-year-old Powerbook G4 1.5 with the new MacBook Pro Core 2 Duo 2.26. In many respects this new MacBook was an exciting improvement over the poor Powerbook, with its missing tab key and dented case.

Powerbook on the left; Macbook Pro on the right.

The Migration Assistant utility seemed to be the best way to move my son's 54 gigabytes of data. This utility would transfer not only the user account but also all the data and settings associated with it. In the end, Migration Assistant did finally deliver as promised, but not without inflicting significant pain.

The FIRST attempt at migration failed because I selected Wireless Network as the migration method. It seemed the easiest, but after 30 minutes of "preparing to migrate..." Migration Assistant finally estimated that the migration would take about 15 hours. Who has that much patience, right? So I canceled that migration attempt.

The SECOND attempt started badly because it seemed to think data for the user had already been transferred from the previous aborted attempt. Therefore, I set up another user account, very similar to the first one. Having now located my ethernet cable, I selected Ethernet as the migration method. That reduced the estimated time to 3 hours. Much better!

Near the end of the process the screen display said "less than one minute remaining" -- for 20 minutes or so. With mounting concern, I turned to the internet for help and read that one should not assume Migration Assistant was in trouble unless it ran for more that 12 hours. By this time it was midnight, so I just went to bed and left it to run its course.

By 7 AM the screen displayed a message "...finished successfully." However, clicking on the Finish button produced a message that there were errors -- errors which would remain a mystery because there was no explanation or error log. Left completely to my own devices, I started poking around in the Finder to see what Migration Assistant had done, or not done, and I found indications that all was not well.

Clearly in need of help, I called Apple Support. After 15 minutes of troubleshooting I was transferred to a technical specialist named Sean. Patiently, he explained that establishing multiple user accounts with similar names had caused unnecessary copying of data. His bigger concern was that system security programs might encounter future hard-to-diagnose issues stemming from those user accounts with extremely similar names. (User accounts form the very basis for all system security.) He advised me to erase the hard drive -- Gulp! -- and restore the system to the way it was when I took it out of the box.

Entering a new realm of Mac maintenance, then, I erased the hard drive with one click, and reinstalled the operating system with those disks that come with every new computer. You know, the ones you hope you never have to use... But wow! What an improvement over Microsoft! There were no confusing questions to answer, and the whole operation took only 30 minutes.

Off and running now, I began my THIRD attempt at Migration Assistant. Again I selected Ethernet as the migration method. After an hour of "Searching for documents to migrate to the new computer..." I called Apple Support again. Sean was not available, but Jay explained why this third attempt would never complete (I'll spare you that convoluted story) and advised the FireWire migration method.

Since I needed to go out and buy a FireWire cable, Jay called back in an hour -- yes, a support person actually called me back!!! -- and thus began my FOURTH attempt at Migration Assistant. I was a little nervous about going into FireWire target disk mode, a process used by the FireWire method. However, working with FireWire target disk mode proved to be far less scary than booting up a Windows PC in SAFE mode. You just hold down the T key while you boot up, and release it when the FireWire symbol appears on the screen. At that point the whole computer is just an external hard drive. But returning to the saga, the estimated migration time using the FireWire method dropped to 1 hour 30 minutes! Jay said he'd call back a second time to make sure it finished successfully. At this point I actually began to believe I might complete this process in my lifetime!

Migration Assistant completed about 15 minutes early so I had a chance to verify the results. All the data was transferred and the user account was properly named. The machine name that was transferred included the word Powerbook, and so I replaced that with the words MacBook Pro. The dock contained some question marks representing applications I had chosen not to transfer, so I got rid of those empty dock items. I installed the iLife applications which were erased when I did the operating system re-install. I also installed the 2008 version of Microsoft Office for Mac. My son would need to download fresh copies of a few internet applications, but other than that, everything looked good. When Jay called, he concurred that this fourth attempt had succeeded.
Finally -- 21 hours after beginning the first migration attempt -- I able to hand over the Macbook Pro to my son.

Lessons Learned: If you're using Migration Assistant to transfer data from an older Mac to a new one,

1) GIVE A FICTITIOUS NAME WHEN YOU BOOT UP THE COMPUTER FOR THE FIRST TIME. (Actually, this tip comes word-for-word from Jay in the Apple Tech Support group.) Doing this will establish a user account on your new system that is completely different from your old system. Migration Assistant will then have no conflicts whatsoever and can copy your old user account and everything associated with it. When Migration Assistant has completed, just delete the fictitious user account.

2) USE A FIREWIRE CABLE. (This tip comes from my own experience.) Forget about doing it any other way. Anyone who can afford an Apple computer can afford a $20 FireWire cable. Caution: You will need to know the speed of the FireWire port on each machine. You can look that up online, or just call Apple Support. Based on the model number I gave him, Jay informed me that the Powerbook had a 400 Mbps (megabytes per second) FireWire port, whereas the Macbook Pro had an 800 Mbps port. He instructed me to by a "400 to 800" FireWire cable.

Alternatives: (if you have no"geeky" inclinations whatsoever)

a) Make an appointment at the Genius Bar in an Apple Store, and an Apple Genius (in-store tech support person) will do the whole migration for you. You will have to take your old Mac and your new Mac into the store and maybe leave them both there for a day or so. But hey, if your at-home migration goes as badly as mine, you wouldn't have had the use of your computer anyway! This service is free, so if you live near an Apple Store, why not leave data migration to the experts?

b) Call Apple Support before you turn on the new machine for the first time. If I were you, I'd ask the agent who picks up the call to transfer you to Technical Support for help transferring data from one computer to another. Go right to second level support, as these guys know a little more and explain things a little better. Even if you didn't buy the Apple Care extended warranty, this call is covered under your purchase warranty.

Do I wish I had moved the data manually from a backup? No. When it works properly, Migration Assistant is amazing. My son felt instantly "at home" on the new MacBook Pro. There were no preferences to adjust; everything looked and felt the same. I just don't think all the aggravation I went through was necessary. Apple usually does a pretty decent job of making applications user friendly, so I never expected to encounter such poor instructions. If Apple feels compelled to offer Wireless and Ethernet as migration options, they owe it to the user to explain the implications of each choice. That alone would have spared me 21 hours of anxiety and uncertainty. So yea, it was a real pain and I regret that. In the end, though, I learned a few things to share here with anyone -- even the folks at Apple -- who might stumble upon this post. Please feel free to leave a comment if you found this helpful.

© 2009, Linda Mason Hood
Truffles, Turtles & Tunes Copyright Statement

Pianos, Jewels, and Inns of Court - Monday

Maurene and I saw a handful of things on Monday that didn't easily fit into Breakfast Rambles or Sacred Spaces, the previous two posts devoted to our day of sightseeing on July 13, 2009. This post, then, completes the Monday trilogy.

Several times throughout the day we saw oddly painted pianos sitting on the sidewalk or in public atriums. This one, in Liverpool Street Station, was the only one we saw being played.


Later I learned that these pianos were part of an urban art project entitled Play Me, I'm Yours. This project by Luke Jerram placed 30 pianos in heavily populated public places. The intention was to create personal amusement or perhaps spontaneous street theater as people sat down to play the pianos. The exhibit lasted three weeks, then the pianos were given to schools and community groups.

After lunch at Ye Olde Mitre Tavern (see my Sacred Spaces post) Maurene and I did a bit of window shopping in the Hatten Garden jewelry district, an area bounded by Holborn, Gray's Inn Road, Clerkenwell Road, and Farringdon Road. Click here for a map. The jewelry was dazzling, shop after shop. Best to leave quickly and avoid temptation!

Next we looked at the half-timbered Tudor buildings on High Holborn. Very pretty buildings, and very old -- they date back to 1586.




The half-timbered buildings form the northern side of the Staple Inn. Behind them, lovely red brick buildings surround a peaceful landscaped interior garden.




Staple Inn is the last surviving Inn of Chancery. The Inns of Chancery, dating back to 1344, originally served as offices for clerks of chancery (a type of law). Later, the inns provided not only office space but also living quarters for the chancery lawyers who were called solicitors. Until 1642 the Inns of Chancery also provided initial training for barristers. It's interesting to note that solicitors practiced a different type of law than barristers, but today's lawyers in Britain are qualified to practice in both areas of law.

The Inns of Chancery were initially attached to the early Inns of Court. Inns of Court were voluntary associations originating in the Middle Ages. According to Encyclopedia Britannica they were formed to study English law as opposed to Roman law that was taught in the universities. There were four Inns of Court: Inner Temple, Middle Temple, Gray's Inn, and Lincoln's Inn.

I found the term "inn" puzzling. Of course, I hadn't yet read all the explanatory material above, so my frame of reference was that of temporary lodging for travelers. Maurene explained that the inns we had seen were law offices, and sometimes lawyers even maintained a small apartment there. Still, the architecture and grounds of these inns were as elaborate as cathedrals and seemed a bit much, even for a high profession like the law. A fuller explanation was to be found -- where else? -- in Wikipedia. Quoting from the article on the Inns of Court. "Each inn is a substantial complex with a great hall, chapel, libraries, sets of chambers for many hundreds of barristers, and gardens, and covers several acres. The layout is similar to that of an "Oxbridge" college. The "chambers" were originally used as residences as well as business premises by many of the barristers, but today, with a small number of exceptions, they serve as offices only."

This explanation was well illustrated by Lincoln's Inn, a much bigger property than the Staple Inn. Built in the mid-1800's, the buildings had a grander scale but the same austere air of seriousness. I was amused to learn that the building I thought was a chapel is actually the library. Makes sense, right? The law library is after all the most sacred of the buildings in a legal complex.

Law library is the chapel-like building extending out to the right.

The building with the tower, on the left, is the other side of the library.

The shot below illustrates a bit better than my photos just how much this building resembles a cathedral.

(This photo is not subject to any copyright restrictions.)

In between the Staple Inn and the Lincoln's Inn we visited The London Silver Vaults. Originally opened in 1876 as Chancery Lane Safe Deposit, these vaults were available for rental by wealthy Londoners who wanted to protect their valuables. Upon showing ID and checking our bags, Maurene and I went downstairs where we passed through a huge fortified safe door with a very imposing lock. Inside, we wandered the many hallways lined with rooms. Each room, a vault within a vault, was the shop of an antique silver dealer. The Silver Vaults contain silver from a variety of different cultures and historical periods -- cutlery & table service, tea sets (of course), jewelry & watches, lamps, and decorative pieces of all sorts including animals & birds, large and small. I thought I might buy a small turtle, and we did actually find one but it wasn't small enough to be affordable.

Back at Maurene's flat we needed tea and a nap to regain enough strength to go to dinner. We still can't believe how much ground we covered. It's a wonder we made it to dinner at all, really, but hunger drove us out the door. We ended up at a restaurant called Il Bordello, where very good Italian food was served in huge portions. And so, tired and stuffed with pasta, Maurene and I concluded what will probably be a "personal best" for both of us in the category of jam-packed London sightseeing days!

© 2009, Linda Mason Hood
Truffles, Turtles & Tunes Copyright Statement

Sacred Spaces - Monday

After breakfast at the Barbican (see Breakfast Rambles - Monday), Maurene and I set off on foot to see some sacred spaces.

Our first stop was St. Helen's, an Anglican church in the Bishopsgate area. Actually, St. Helen's wasn't on Maurene's itinerary. We stumbled upon it rather by accident, and I insisted we take a quick look. We were glad we did, for the building has an interesting construction which reflects its long history.

St. Helen's worship space was originally two separate chapels. Apparently there was a parish church that predated the chapel built in 1210 for an order of Benedictine nuns. The nuns' chapel was a little wider and longer than the parish church, giving the present sanctuary an odd shape.

St. Helen's has many claims to fame: It is the only surviving monastic building inside the city walls. It survived the Great Fire, the World War II Blitz, and two IRA bombings in the 1990s. It was the parish church of William Shakespeare in 1590. It may have the longest name of any single church. It's full and proper name, which includes the names of all 5 parishes consolidated from the 16th century to the present, is: "St Helen Bishopsgate with St Andrew Undershaft & St Ethelburga Bishopsgate & St Martin Outwich & St Mary Axe".



(For each slideshow in this post, you can make the pictures larger by double click the first one. Then, on the Picasa Web site, click on Slideshow.)

Additional info on St. Helen's:
1) St. Helen's Bishopsgate - historical timeline on the church's website
2) St. Helen's Bishopsgate, Tour UK website - more historical details
3) St. Helen's Bishopsgate, Wikipedia - most representative pictures and good references in the footnotes.



On our way to the next place of worship, Maurene and I walked through the Leadenhall Market. The narrow street leading into the covered market reminded me that I was in a very old part of the city. The market itself was established in the fourteenth century, but it stands on a site which dates back to AD 47 when the Roman city of Londinium was built.

More recently, the market was used to depict Diagon Alley in the movie Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Harry Potter fans, do you recognize this ornate ironwork?



Additional info on the Leadenhall Market:
1) Leadenhall Market - historical timeline
2) Leadenhall Market, Wikipedia - short synopsis, wonderful picture



After a few wrong turns which resulted in crisscrossing the Leadenhall Market, we finally arrived at the Bevis Marks Synagogue. Its website explained why we had trouble finding it: The synagogue was actually built in a back alley because in 1699 Jews weren't allowed to put their buildings on the main roadways. Bevis Marks, completed in 1701, is the oldest synagogue in continuous use in London. The website link above is really interesting and quite well done. I highly recommend it to you for all the background details that I'm about to skip. I will just touch upon the aspects of the synagogue that I particularly enjoyed.

Upon entering the building, I immediately noticed a similarity to Quaker (Nonconformist) meetinghouses: balconies that circle above the main meeting space on three sides, and large windows with many panes of clear glass to let in the light. Later I learned that the builder of the synagogue was a Quaker named. No wonder there was a similarity! This Quaker, Joseph Avis, built the synagogue at cost because he felt it unethical to make a profit from the construction of a house of worship.

Perhaps the lavish decoration of the synagogue reflects the tastes of the original congregation, which was comprised of Sephardic Jews from Spain and Portugal. I particularly liked the brass chandeliers which filled the room, seven of them representing the seven days of the week. The chandeliers still had candles in them, which looked well used. There were also large brass candlesticks by the pulpit and the cabinet containing the Ark of the Covenant. While there were some electric lights in the balcony and on the tops of the pillars supporting the balcony, it seemed like the main source of light in the evening would probably come from candles. It was a very elegant and beautifully maintained sanctuary.

Here are a few pictures - they aren't great, so be sure you look at the the ones on the main Bevis Marks website as well.



Additional info on Bevis Marks:
1) Bevis Marks, Jewish Communities & Records (JCR) UK website - congregation data, other information which includes detailed Congregation History, good bibliography.
2) Bevis Marks, Wikipedia, good description, nice links.
3) Bevis Marks, Sacred Destinations website, concise summary and a map showing exact location



Our next stop was St. Ethelreda's, a Roman Catholic church in Ely Place. St. Ethelreda's was built between 1250 and 1290. Over time, the chapel and the crypt below served different purposes. In the mid-1500, the crypt was used as a tavern. From 1620 to 1622 the chapel served as Spanish ambassador's private chapel (and thus it was considered on "Spanish soil"). In 1642 during the English Civil War it was used as a prison and hospital. It was closed for a while, then reopened as an Episcopalian church before it was put up for auction in 1873 and bought by a Catholic priest who restored both the chapel and the crypt to their 13th century design. The crypt was used as a tavern in the 16th century. All said, this building indeed has a long and interesting history.

Despite the fact that it was not very well lit, Maurene and I especially enjoyed the crypt. It was obviously very old and gave us the sense of stepping back in time.

In the upper church, Maurene and I strolled the side aisles looking at the statues of martyrs from various historical periods, people from the area who probably attended this church. We took a moment to rest in the pews and commune with the spirit of St. Ethelreda. And she was actually there. I don't know if we realized it at the time, but on the right of the altar is a jeweled box said to contain a piece of St. Ethelreda's hand.



Additional info on St. Ethelreda's Church
1) St. Ethelreda's Church, Wikipedia, good summary and nice pictures
2) St. Ethelreda's History, part of St. Ethelreda's website - most complete historical information.
3) St. Ethelreda's Gallery, part of St. Ethelreda's website - pictures of all stained glass windows in the church and the crypt.
4) The Hand of St. Ethelreda by Dwight Longenecker, Fr. Dwight Longenecker's website - essay which suggests the hand of St. Ethelreda is symbolic of the Catholic Church in England

The final sacred space of this post is Ye Olde Mitre Tavern. In 1546 when it was built, the Mitre was a pub for the palace servants of the Bishops of Ely - the same Bishops who worshiped at St. Ethelreda's Church. Like the church, the Mitre went through a restoration about 200 years ago. In addition to being named for a bishop's cap, I'm classifying Ye Olde Mitre as a sacred space because it has has always been a place where people could meet together to escape from their mundane lives for a little while and return revived and refreshed. Think of it as a non-denominational, non-theological church of the common man -- or woman, as the case may be.

By the time Maurene and I arrived at the Mitre, we were certainly ready to rest our weary feet and have lunch. We ordered a grilled cheese sandwich and a glass of hard cider. Then we took a look around. All the rooms are small, but there are two sitting rooms downstairs separated by the bar in between them. Both rooms are lined in dark paneling and with their low ceilings impart the feel of a much earlier time. Up a narrow, winding staircase is the Bishop's Room, now just another room for patrons to socialize, as well as the ladies room and the office.



Interestingly, the bit of land on which the Mitre stands is still under the governance of Cambridgeshire, not London. This dates back to the 13th century and its connection to the Ely Palace. For some reason, this bit of land was never incorporated into the City of London. According to TimeOut London, if robbers from the nearby jewelry district run down the alley that leads to the Mitre, the only thing London police can do is seal off the exits and call their counterparts from Cambridgeshire to come make the arrest!

Additional info:
Secret London: Ye Olde Mitre Tavern, Timeout London. Good historical details.

© 2009, Linda Mason Hood
Truffles, Turtles & Tunes Copyright Statement

Breakfast Rambles - Monday

Today was my first full day in London after a week in Ireland at the Willie Clancy Festival in Miltown Malbay. (All of those posts are accessible by clicking the Topic Label "Willie Week 2009" in the blue box on the left.) My friend Maurene had an ambitious sightseeing itinerary planned. Much of what we were to see on my 3-day visit fell under the category of "old." For example, yesterday we went to The Oriental Club and Rules, both dating back to the early 1800s. The first items on today's agenda, however, were more recent additions to the historic city of London.

After a cup of tea and a shower, Maurene and I were out and about by 9 AM. Our first stop was an office/apartment complex called Cutler Gardens at 3-11 Devonshire Square. Despite its picturesque name, the original buildings that comprised Cutler Gardens were warehouses belonging to the East India Company, later used by the St. Katherine's Dock Company and the Port of London Authority. From 1978-1982 the warehouses were remodeled for use by the Standard Life Assurance Company. In 1990, a sculpture by Denys Mitchell was installed in the courtyard. The Cnihtengild, a bronze and glass sculpture of a knight on horseback, has a modern style which nevertheless succeeds in invoking all the drama and force of the days of King Arthur. The plaque below the sculpture reads as follows:

“King Edgar (959–75) granted this derelict land to thirteen knights, on condition that they each perform three duels, one on land, one below ground, one on the water. These feats having been achieved, the King gave the knights, or Cnihtengild, certain rights over a piece of land ‘from Aldgate to the place where the bars are now, toward the east, on both sides of the lane, and extended it toward the gate now known as Bishopsgate in the north, to the house of William the Priest… and to the south to the Thames as far as a horseman riding into the river at low tide can throw a lance.’

“This sculpture by Denys Mitchell, commissioned by the Standard Life Assurance Company, commemorates the Cnihtengild and was unveiled by the Right Honourable the Lord Mayor, Sir Alexander Graham G.B.E. D.C.L. on 21st November 1990.”

And here's a fact about The Cnihtengild that so far has escaped mention on the internet: the statue MOVES. The position of the horse's head, the rider's head, and the rider's lance change on the hour.

(To make the pictures larger, double click the first one.
Then, on the Picasa Web site, click on Slideshow.)

Moving on, our next stop was the entrance to the Liverpool Street Station of the London Underground to see another sculpture, the Kindertransport Memorial, by Frank Meisler, completed in 2006. The sculpture depicts Jewish refugee children rescued from the Nazis. The UK admitted about 10,000 children between December 1938 and August 1939. Sent unaccompanied and placed in foster homes, most of these children never saw their families again. The Liverpool Street Station was chosen as the site for the sculpture because it is where the children disembarked from the Harwich boat train.

A quote at the base of the statue says:
"Whosoever rescues a single soul is credited as though they had saved the whole world." (Talmud, Baba Batra 11a.)

Our breakfast destination was The Barbican Estate where Maurene's friend Val lives. Before the Barbican was built, hardly anyone lived in that part of the city because it had been destroyed by heavy bombing in World War II. The Barbican, which opened in 1969, brought 4000 residents and many other people who come to attend events in the Barbican Centre, the largest performing arts center in Europe.

The Barbican complex is architecturally significant. Built by Chamberlin, Powell and Bon, one of the most important modernist architectural firms in Britain, The Barbican is an example of the Brutalist style. The entire complex is elevated from street level, and the landscaped grounds are quiet and beautiful. Once inside, you lose the bustle of London and enter a quieter world of nature and art. There are three large towers and 13 terraced 7-story buildings. Val's living room offers a lovely view of the large reflecting pool called "the lake" in which grow water lilies and other types of vegetation.

(To make the pictures larger, double click the first one.
Then, on the Picasa Web site, click on Slideshow.)

Val served us a breakfast of freshly baked croissants and berries with coffee, tea, and juice. She was a gracious hostess, and it would have been easy to linger for hours chatting and taking pictures. However, our sightseeing agenda beckoned, so before too long Maurene and I bid a fond farewell to the Val and the Barbican.

Maurene and Val

© 2009, Linda Mason Hood
Truffles, Turtles & Tunes Copyright Statement