family and ceramics

I drew a picture of Sister Miriam Catherine holding me when I was a baby.  She left her gold wedding band to me when she died.  Ego Te Spansavi was engraved in it.  I espouse thee.  She married God.  The band had come from her Irish mother who wore it on a non ring finger since she lost her ring finger beheading a hen.  My great grandmother was a Catherine.  I don't know much about her except that she read to her very successful husband who could not read.  He came over on the boat from Ireland as a young boy, in charge of his two younger siblings.  Their mother had died en route from Ireland to Wales so they had to continue on to America alone.  The boys worked in the coal mines as breaker boys.  My great uncle promptly lost an arm.  Their sister worked as a maid, since that's just what Irish girls did.  (I can still feel it in my bones.)  My great grandfather worked his way up, eventually becoming superintendent of the mines and also an inventor.  He sent all 8 of his children to graduate school or medical school, even the girls.
Sister Miriam Catherine also gave some porcelain angels to me.  I used to love visiting her at the convent.  I wanted to live there.  It was warm and peaceful, all of the grouchy nuns were out teaching school.  There was a nun feeding chipmunks on the porch and in their sitting room they had the largest, oldest gold fish I had ever seen.  Her bedroom had a bed, a desk and a chest of drawers.  She had a crucifix on the wall and nothing else.  I LOVED the simplicity.  There wasn't a bit of clutter.  And the halls were large and beautiful.  And quiet.  It was the best kind of quiet ... a meditative quiet.
I got all of my hair cut off this morning. 
I also drew a picture of a ceramic sculpture Fiona made a few years ago.