Café Crem

Art, Music and Words around The Coffee Table

Field

This is a collaboration with my son Matthew. He drew the lines, and I colored it in. He said it was a drawing of pipes, but it looked more like crop fields to me, seen from an airplane.

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May 23, 2009 Posted by | Art, children, drawing, family, The MiniBar, travel | , , | 7 Comments

Earthmother

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Earthmother, manqué.

 

Sometimes I find it hard

To resist the growing urge

To cook for the children,

The ten or twelve I never had,

Or cater for the horde

Of hungry friends that once

Came knocking at mealtimes,

Eager for food or fellowship.

The phantom feet still beat

A path at times to my door,

And wait like patient pets

For recognition and relief.

At times like these, I shiver,

And make vast cauldrons

Of hot and bubbling soup

Massive crumbles and pies,

Roast beef, all the trimmings,

And try not to count

The empty chairs around

My waiting, groaning table.

 

January 10, 2009 Posted by | Art, Cafe L'Arte, Cafe Literati, family, food, friends, love, personal, photography, poetry, Viv's Art, Viv's Poetry, women | , , , , , | 3 Comments

Mixing business with pleasure….

Corey, Me, My Dad and Hollie, reduced to tears of laughter as my dad attempts to gain some extra height for the photo!

Corey, Me, My Dad and Hollie, reduced to tears of laughter as my dad attempts to gain some extra height for the photo!

I wanted to share with you all my weekend. I had a show to do on Friday in Great Yarmouth, a dreary East-Coast English seaside town, but by happy coincidence, the date fell the day before the Family Party, so for the first time in a few years, I was able to attend. The Family Party was started after my Grandma died. Everyone on my Mother’s side decided the family should meet twice a year. Since my mum passed away, and all my Auntie’s and Uncles have got older, it’s now just once a year. But for me, it’s a great opportunity to see everybody in one go, as I never get chance to travel around the country to visit them individually. an added bonus was that my Uncle Owen, my Dad’s brother, was over from New Zealand – so that saved a a hell of a trip!

Although not strictly coffee-related, I do have a wonderful tea-related anecdote. My Grandma, who died when I was a teenager, used to have a big metal teapot. When she died, it remained within the family, and it gets passed around to whoever is hosting the family party each year to make the tea for everybody. This year, it was my sister, Kaz.

A treasured family heirloom...and a teapot.

A treasured family heirloom...and a teapot.

But the best bit of all was being with my two children. It’s been a long time since we’ve all been together, and I savoured it.

Hollie and Corey

Hollie and Corey

There was also the revelation of seeing my Dad, at 76, still able to place a ball with deadly accuracy and devilish spin in a game of table tennis. (he used to play in a league when he was younger)

So, with no apologies, here’s some “family snaps”…. Kev Moore

Ladeez in da house - Hollie, My sister Kaz, and her daughter Rachael

Ladeez in da house - Hollie, My sister Kaz, and her daughter Rachael

Kids Picnic - My nephew Tom, his girlfriend, and Hollie and Corey, are banished from the grown-ups table!

Kids Picnic - My nephew Tom, his girlfriend, and Hollie and Corey, are banished from the grown-ups table!

Dad and brother Owen catch up on news from NZ while assorted Aunties, Uncles, Cousins, Neices and Nephews look on.

Dad and brother Owen catch up on news from NZ while assorted Aunties, Uncles, Cousins, Neices and Nephews look on.

Dad shows my cousin's young boy how it's done....

Dad shows my cousin's young boy how it's done!

September 16, 2008 Posted by | Art, events, family, fun, life, love, Parents and Children, personal, photo, random, writing | , , , , | 11 Comments

Daylilies

The days pass so quickly in the spring. May zooms by, and suddenly it’s summer. The kids and I are adjusting to a lazier schedule as I get the place ready for houseguests again.

The Medicine Wheel Ceremony went very well. It was a powerful event. I am just now starting to hear bits about what happened at each location. I was the Ambassador for the Tennessee site. It was very peaceful–just me, the kids and husband at a beautiful campsite between the mountains and a river.

I am working on an article about the ceremony at our campsite. We had timely visits by a woodpecker, butterflies and a fox. I am still trying to figure out what they all represent. I also found a snakeskin the day before the ceremony. I went to visit a lake near my home where I like to meditate, and there it was, right in my regular spot. I actually forgot about the snakeskin until after I got back from Tennessee, and had started a series of snakeskin print art. I’m getting those pieces ready right now to submit to the next art show.

I have to go clean the house now, but I will try to come back and visit soon. Looks like I have some catching up to do 🙂

~Shelley

May 30, 2008 Posted by | Art, family, friends, life, personal, writing | , , , | 4 Comments

The Family Business-Part Two

So I was hunting around the other day for a newspaper clipping of myself and Graham Oliver for my other blog when I came across a photo of me at the tender age of seventeen.

I’d just got a job working in an office at a power station, and was gigging most nights. I’d been a drummer since the age of eight, and this shot was taken for the Electricity Company magazine, just a year before I turned to Bass guitar and made it my career.

Note the hand-illustrated bass drum skin!

Kev Moore Drums

But what’s really scary is this next picture. My son, aged fifteen, in this shot occupying the drumstool of Simon Kay, Christie’s drummer. “History Never Repeats” sang Split Enz….I’m afraid I have to respectfully disagree….

It seems appropriate as “Parents and Children” draws to a close, that I fly to the UK tomorrow for two shows, and to spend all day Saturday with him, chilling out and eating things that are undoubtedly bad for us.

Corey on Drums

Kev Moore

January 31, 2008 Posted by | Art, Entertainment, family, life, love, Music, Parents and Children, personal, photo, writing | , , , , | 7 Comments

Joyce Marion Moore

 Joyce Moore 

A child of the thirties

Derbyshire born

Unconditional love

Smiles, soft and warm

Loved by her brothers

Numbering four

To school she would send me

With a kiss through the door

I remember her freedom

As we left the nest

The new job she relished

Doing her best

But the tears that she shed

As I got my own place

Were as nothing to the rivers

That ran down my face

As my dearest, my Mother

Crossed over at last

And I’m scared that the memories

Will fade like the past

I try and I try to recall her sweet smile

But the illness that took her

Indiscriminate and vile

Intrudes on my thoughts

And its hard for a while

But with patience that image recedes from my brain

And there, in the light, stands my Mother again.

Copyright Kev Moore 2008

I wanted to write some words about my Mother, and well, out this came.

January 11, 2008 Posted by | death, health, life, love, Parents and Children, personal, poetry, random, women, writing | , , , , , | 6 Comments

Father to Son

Corey 

So, its time to write about my boy. He’s 15, 16 on Feb 28th (nearly a leap year baby and less birthday presents, damn!) and he arguably had a tougher time when I divorced than his sister as he was a lot younger. He had to move to Spain with his mother, (I was living in the UK at the time) and suffered terribly trying to learn the language and keep up with his studies in a Spanish only school. His mother’s relationship over here collapsed and they returned to the UK.  I was instrumental in getting him into the right school back in Yorkshire. For the first year or two, he struggled. I’d moved out to Spain, he was so far behind in Maths, (a natural ineptitude inherited from yours truly) and I was worried about him. But then, almost while my back was turned, he seemed to develop a resolve (which I firmly believe he learnt from his time in Spain)  His grades improved, he became a thoughtful young man, he has a very clear mind. He formed his own band, regularly chasing promoters and setting up their own gigs. He has a steady girlfriend who I think helps keep him focussed. He is totally on top of schoolwork, excells in Music and Drama, and is completely bemused by his sisters recent escapades.  I think he is a true friend to her, and will be a great asset to her in her road to peace.  I love him, and my daughter of course, very much,  but the curse of the parent is such that one can’t help seeing her at 22 and thinking, was she okay at 15, and will it go wrong for him? But the truth is, she had problems with anorexia at 13/14..if there was an anxiety written about in a teen mag, she was up for it.  She has more bravado, but is flawed beneath the surface. He has a greater strength of character, and I know he will make his mark in the world, ironically, setting an example for his older sister.

January 10, 2008 Posted by | events, family, friends, health, life, love, men, Parents and Children, personal, school, writing | , , , , , | 9 Comments

A Gypsy Soul

As a brief respite from my problems, explained in “Lament for a Butterfly”, Miki and I thought we´d make this light-hearted entry, that describes a true story of parenthood, unfolding even as we speak.

We write this, sat in one of our favourite cafes (featured in Michael´s Cafes of the World ex-blog 🙂 ) eating Chocolate Mousse (Miki) and Bread and Butter pudding (Me)

The thing is, Miki seems to be pregnant…not really internally, but externally…we´re not sure whether to keep the child or not…but in the meantime, the child seems to be making the decision, not us. Every night, she gazed up at our balcony with forlorn eyes, envying the warmth within, then reluctantly wandering off into the Spanish night. Our hearts began to melt, and she was invited in to spend a few hours with us during the day..which became all day…which became a night. Then, resolute, we re-introduced her to the night that had conceived her, and we, full of shame slept fitfully. The next morning, undeterred, there she was. We were forgiven, we were beguiled, and in she came again.

So, if we were to keep this child, she needs a name…we thought of a few…Chloe, after the sad-eyed character in “24”, “Baby” as Miki insists on calling her, making things extremely difficult for me, as I am banned from calling any living creature “baby” apart from Miki, upon pain of death.  Predictably, I chose Foxy Lady, not just because of Hendrix , but because she´s a lady, and looks like…er… a fox. But well, its a bit of a mouthful.  Of course, while all this is going on, we are in anguish wondering if we can cope with an extended family given our lifestyle. But well, the nature of this child probably makes her ideal for us. She wandered into our lives, and looks set to wander with us. So we will call her..

Gypsy.

Kev and Miki

P.S. We´ll post a picture of the baby soon (if the adoption goes through)

January 9, 2008 Posted by | events, family, friends, fun, humor, life, love, men, Parents and Children, random, women | , , , , | 11 Comments

Lament for a Butterfly

Hollie 

If you ask my daughter to show you, she will extend her arm and reveal a small, delicate butterfly tattooed just above her wrist.  She loves Butterflies. I brought her a beautiful silk painting of one back from the Caribbean, and it rests its wings on her walls.

She wrote a song called Butterfly for her now defunct band. The words are now echoing in my mind.

“Butterflies have such a short life, I wish I was a Butterfly”

I saw my daughter before Christmas. As she came down the escalator towards me, I felt so happy to see her again. She looked well, and healthy, and as we talked she seemed to have found her equilibrium again. I had been very worried about her, she had cut loose from everything she’d known, her band, her music studies, her boyfriend of two years. She’d seemed lost.

Struggling to finish those last 8 months of university, the torpor was threatening to drag her under before the finish line. Then, Christmas, that wolf in sheep’s clothing, that dispenses pain and pleasure in equal measure, amplifying both with chilling equanimity arrived like an uninvited guest, bringing hurtful accusations from her hurting ex-boyfriend. He had his own demons to deal with, but I dont think he realised the pain he was causing her.

She confided to me that her Christmas day had been awful, and that she expected to spend New Year alone, and I told her she should not do that.  Miki and I received a message around 4.30 in the morning of New Years Day from her mother, it was cryptic and scary. It told me not to speak to my daughter before her Mother had spoken to the Doctor.

It transpired that my precious daughter had been harming herself. As I write this, words seem empty, useless, in conveying the depth of horror, sadness, anguish, incomprehension, and yes, revulsion at this revelation.  I have guilt. I defy any parent that has left a marriage involving children not to be marinated in deep, unresolvable guilt.  But my daughter was 16 when I left, and she knew it was better that we split. I don´t believe it was my fault she went down this path. But the simple undeniable fact stands in front of me, accusing, like a monolith while the arctic winds of indecision cut me to the bone. What can I do?

It is one of nature’s cruel tricks that the raising of children is like plate spinning…you get one spinning great, you leave it and move on to the other one, getting that one spinning beautifully, then, as you glance across, the one you first attended to is spinning wildly out of control.  If I was a psychologist, and I’m not, I would venture that my son has inherited a down to earth approach that will protect him in life. I thought my daughter had too. She has my stubbornness, but she is frail, thinks the world is against her, and has inherited her Mother’s hysteria. I try not to fall into the trap of measuring her life against mine (as my father did with me) but it´s difficult. She is now 22. I left home at 17, and was travelling the world as a professional musician by the age of 20. My son has a much more thoughful head on his shoulders, and is only 15. It could be argued that he had a far more traumatic time when I left than my daughter did. But what forces shape our destiny? I simply cannot comprehend what would drive a beautiful young woman with her whole life ahead of her to do this to herself.  Whatever words of comfort come my way, I feel, profoundly, that I have failed her, and I wanted so much for her to have the world.

I will post a picture of her to accompany this post when I am able..we are still using the cybercafe so its a bit problematic.

Kev Moore

January 6, 2008 Posted by | culture, family, health, life, love, Parents and Children, personal, women, writing | , , , , , | 13 Comments

Life Cycles

happy-face.jpg

This is my godson. He is lying on  the tummy  of my sister, his gradma. I was lucky to get this face on file for he is always on the move.  I  can feel his happiness whenever I  am around him, for he is surely a happy guy, now 4 years old.  

I have no children of my own, but my nephews, nieces and grandnieces and nephews are like children to me. It’s a real  pleasure to see them growing, saying funny, smart things that make me  stop and think. I am amazed by how fast time passes by. It was like  yesterday that I  had his  his father oin my arms,  few days  old.   I saw  them small and then, in a flash, they are adults  and having children of their own, like this  ball of happiness. Life cycles, how beautiful they are! 

January 3, 2008 Posted by | family, life, love, Parents and Children | , , , , , | 7 Comments