The good the bad and the ugly as I run around my little life here in almost sunny Mukilteo.
I met Christian's new girl, Bo, and I must say I am giddy with delight. She's an artist, teacher, talented, traveled, educated, not to mention cute. She is a fashion designer of some very odd clothing and dance costumes, and Mother's Day she gave me two very impressive pieces of her pottery. What's not to be giddy over. Christian said her tiny Fremont apartment has more stuff than mine, like I said, what's not to be giddy over.
Christian's shop is half closed, they are removing some old fuel tanks and his work bays aren't accessible, so he has been semi-retired for a while. Lynn and I were going to breakfast last Friday and decided to drive to Ballard to have one of those magnificent apple pancakes at the Family Pancake House. We go walking in and Lynn said "Look at that." So I looked and started reading this dude's tee-shirt, slightly ornery, (once a reader always a reader) then I realized I was reading Christian's chest. That was a Friday morning surprise he was unprepared for, but he graciously, well not quite graciously, more reluctantly, put aside his book and let us two old fat ladies join him. It wound up delightful, well to me anyway.
Ian's first fitting for his new crown failed so he has to go back next week for another try. Disappointed? Yes. He is getting tired of soft food though, just being cautious, so we lived dangerously and went out to a new gyro place he knew about and risked it. He did fine, the gyro was superb, his temporary crown stayed in place and I got fatter.
I hadn't seen much of Ian because he was house/dog sitting for Roger and Steph while they made the drive to Southern California for Mr Carrillo's funeral. Twenty-two hours each way. Roger's cousin, Jason, rode down with them. They said Connor did fantastic, but what kid wouldn't be fantastic with movies, music, videos, and three adults to charm him. Man has times changed in the child hauling business.
Roger was teary when he told about the hotrods that led the funeral cortege. Five or six of the progeny brought out their classic cars with messages like "Cruising with Grampa" shoe polished on the sides. Roger and Stephanie said the time in California and the funeral was more a celebration of Mr Carrillo's life, as it should be, and he was buried as close to Lonnie as possible. Made me teary also.
Oh, and Grampa had fired the gardener the week before because he wasn't doing a good enough job.
I saw the Connorman last night for another wild ride. We were upstairs, we were downstairs, we were outside, we rocked out to Connor music on his guitar and piano, we raced cars, crashed cars, cleaned cars, and put the cars away very neatly back in the little carrying case (see he is related to Lonnie). We were busy. Connor didn't trust me to put the cars back properly so he did that. Yep, he is related to Lonnie. The only thing Lonnie would let me do is turn over an engine occasionally.
I hate games but my boss at work said I wouldn't mind one team building game she was planning. Yeah right! A tag is put on your back of a person, place or thing and you get twenty questions to guess who. I got mine narrowed down to male, not a politician, Steve Jobs, or John Wayne and then got lost in inane questions. They finally took pity on me and said who is your favorite person, I said well right now that would have to be my grandson Connor -- Yep Connor was the name plastered on my back. That boss flanked me and tricked me.
I've had a host of doctor appointments lately. Every time I go see a doctor it means seven more appointments are needed. I guess that's what I get for being old fat tired blind hard of hearing with high blood pressure, high cholesterol, bad heart and diabetes. Now we can add female troubles to the list. Damn.
On the drive to see the specialist over in Everett I noticed all the good the bad and the ugly. Beautiful homes -- decrepit homes, beautiful skies -- utility wires, beautiful Possession Sound -- scummy water, soaring mountains and islands in the distance -- road construction, and beautiful, beautiful, beautiful trees, bushes, hedges, and gardens. The world has burst into full bloom. I think the flowers would stun God.
How did the world get so beautiful? The good.
My life was a little out of whack, but it has been whacked back into shape. The good.
Today I will continue my odyssey of book shelf cleaning, sorting, dusting, organizing, and make Ian a little mac and cheese. The good.
I guess there is no ugly after all, it's all good.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Reflections
Mr Carrillo died.
He fell asleep in his big old soft recliner and never woke up. At ninety-four years of age it seemed like a pretty good way to go; surrounded by the sun, his garden and his loving wife of seventy plus years.
Roger said on their last visit, the first weekend of May, that Grampa was complaining he couldn't climb a step ladder any more to trim his trees that the last time he climbed up the fire department had to come get him down. Roger said that he was very frail and spent a lot of his time dozing -- in the sun. During the visit Roger took a wonderful collection of photographs of all of them; together and separate, with Connor and without, sitting and standing, smiling and hugging. When a person dies at ninety-four it's hard to be sad but hard not to feel sad also.
He died loved. It seems like a pretty good way to go.
The death of a beloved person brings many emotions tumbling to the surface and I've reflected back on my own emotional dance with death over the years. One death and then another made me grateful for not having any residual guilt, so much so that I started trying to live my life as guilt free as I could. This was a good decision for me. Living with out guilt was a gift from God at first, an accident, but then slowly and very consciously I chose a path trying to live as guilt free as possible. This is a gift I try to give to myself every day.
I am stunned sometimes at the amount of discontent, anger, rage, hatred loose in the world. Where does it come from? Why does "anti" versus "for" create such a vortex. Why do my dreams have to die so yours can flourish? Is a gay marriage going to unhinge the balance of the cosmos? In the big picture does it matter? Is my bacon sandwich really a sin?
And all the weaker cousins of discontent/anger/rage/hatred, like mocking, cynicism or caustic humor at the expense of another. A plaid shirt is redneck? My accent is humorous? My weight is unforgivable? My car is substandard? The other day if I heard it once I heard it dozens of times "that's ugly" everything from a child to boots. Shopping at Walmart or Target is low class? When I breastfed my first baby I was damned, now you are damned if you don't breastfeed. Leather shoes, whale meat, wind turbines -- somebodies day is ruined over these facts.
So to everybody whose day I have ruined due to lousy taste, accent, beliefs, car, kids, goals or dreams -- please forgive me. I'm trying to live my life guilt free.
Oh, yeah and I'm trying to live my life with as much love as I can.
Surrounded by love seems like a pretty good way to go.
He fell asleep in his big old soft recliner and never woke up. At ninety-four years of age it seemed like a pretty good way to go; surrounded by the sun, his garden and his loving wife of seventy plus years.
Roger said on their last visit, the first weekend of May, that Grampa was complaining he couldn't climb a step ladder any more to trim his trees that the last time he climbed up the fire department had to come get him down. Roger said that he was very frail and spent a lot of his time dozing -- in the sun. During the visit Roger took a wonderful collection of photographs of all of them; together and separate, with Connor and without, sitting and standing, smiling and hugging. When a person dies at ninety-four it's hard to be sad but hard not to feel sad also.
He died loved. It seems like a pretty good way to go.
The death of a beloved person brings many emotions tumbling to the surface and I've reflected back on my own emotional dance with death over the years. One death and then another made me grateful for not having any residual guilt, so much so that I started trying to live my life as guilt free as I could. This was a good decision for me. Living with out guilt was a gift from God at first, an accident, but then slowly and very consciously I chose a path trying to live as guilt free as possible. This is a gift I try to give to myself every day.
I am stunned sometimes at the amount of discontent, anger, rage, hatred loose in the world. Where does it come from? Why does "anti" versus "for" create such a vortex. Why do my dreams have to die so yours can flourish? Is a gay marriage going to unhinge the balance of the cosmos? In the big picture does it matter? Is my bacon sandwich really a sin?
And all the weaker cousins of discontent/anger/rage/hatred, like mocking, cynicism or caustic humor at the expense of another. A plaid shirt is redneck? My accent is humorous? My weight is unforgivable? My car is substandard? The other day if I heard it once I heard it dozens of times "that's ugly" everything from a child to boots. Shopping at Walmart or Target is low class? When I breastfed my first baby I was damned, now you are damned if you don't breastfeed. Leather shoes, whale meat, wind turbines -- somebodies day is ruined over these facts.
So to everybody whose day I have ruined due to lousy taste, accent, beliefs, car, kids, goals or dreams -- please forgive me. I'm trying to live my life guilt free.
Oh, yeah and I'm trying to live my life with as much love as I can.
Surrounded by love seems like a pretty good way to go.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
p.s.
I meant to add this also from Pleasant Hill Raymond:
From Zen Art for Meditation by Stewart W.
Holmes and Chimyo Horioka:
How can we fret and stew sub specie
aeternitatis - under the calm gaze of ancient
Tao?
The salt of the sea is in our blood;
The calcium of the rocks is in our bones;
The genes of ten thousand generations of
stalwart progenitors are in our cells.
The sun shines and we smile.
The winds rage and we bend before them.
The blossoms open and we rejoice.
Earth is our long home.
From Zen Art for Meditation by Stewart W.
Holmes and Chimyo Horioka:
How can we fret and stew sub specie
aeternitatis - under the calm gaze of ancient
Tao?
The salt of the sea is in our blood;
The calcium of the rocks is in our bones;
The genes of ten thousand generations of
stalwart progenitors are in our cells.
The sun shines and we smile.
The winds rage and we bend before them.
The blossoms open and we rejoice.
Earth is our long home.
Yertle the Turtle and Rain
Yertle the Turtle was banned in a community in Canada as being too political. Too political? It seems as though the school district was having a labor dispute and some part of Dr Suess' book was visible through a labor representative's car window on school property.
That's pretty well the extreme of banned.
The school district decided Yertle's pleas for justice for all was a slippery slope they didn't want broadcast.
Life is always interesting.
But that big old super moon just about made up for any short comings I have been experiencing with the world lately.
I had lunch with Carol -- in the rain. As we two old fat ladies were leaving the Mexican restaurant one staff member said to another, in Spanish "Those ladies ate everything on their plate" not realizing Carol understood.
If it looks like an old lady and it talks like an old lady it probably is an old lady.
Finished all my car stuff -- in the rain.
Ian had major dental work -- in the rain.
I went to the grocery store for soft food -- in the rain
Picked up Claire after her most recent monitoring tests -- in the rain.
She is still cancer free.
On my playdate with Connor -- in the rain -- I learned the four most dreaded words in the English language, "Granny play with me." So we played school and race car and driving and drawing and coloring and looking at books and reenacting book plots. Sometimes I had to be the baby and sometime the dump truck. Imagination at work with a willing granny produced an enchanted, exhausting evening. What ever the agenda is -- I'm in!
When he opened his treat tin and spied a new wetnap he said,"Granny, you brought me another one!"
I canceled my date with Lynn because of the rain.
Christian turned 36 -- in the rain.
Drove to work in the rain, drove home in the rain. As I kept buzzing up and down I-5; to Seattle, to Ballard, to Everett, to Lake City, to Mill Creek I thought man I'm tired of the rain, and it's not like me to grow weary of Pacific Northwest rain. However on my way to book club last night -- in the rain -- I realized I'm not tired of the rain, I'm tired of driving in the rain. Old lady driver with old lady eyes with poor visibility in the rain with crazy drivers in the rain produces one very nervous old lady.
I love the rain when it's Spring, when I'm snuggled inside with a book, or a movie, or a taco, or Connor.
It is lush and green here.
And the weather has finally warmed up to mild winter weather.
I finished the Steve Jobs book -- it should have rained on him. They said in the book what a charismatic man he was, how compelling he was, and I will have to say as I was reading the book I kept thinking I don't even like this man, but I kept reading -- fascinated and compelled. What do you get when you cross asshole with visionary -- Steve Jobs.
I have started Born to Run and one third of the way through I'm fascinated and compelled. Very entertaining writing by a slightly subversive clever writer. However...
The two books back to back drew me to the world of superstars. I didn't know but a few of the names in the Steve Jobs book but they were superstars of the tech world. Then I don't know but a few of the names in the running book but they are superstars in the running world. How many worlds are out there with super stars I know nothing about? Cycling, surfing, spiritualist, medical, gourmet and just how important are they in the big world sitting under a super moon? Well, okay, Steve Jobs probably moved the world forward, but how many others? I've done a great job of being the super star in Jan's world. I moved the world forward my way.
Bob Dylan said, as I was reminded in the Steve Jobs book; Get busy living or get busy dying. Is it okay to do both? Here I am living and dying in Seattle -- in the rain.
Ian is home from house sitting, at last my personal assistant is home. Mother's Day dinner is scheduled for Sunday at my favorite Macaroni Grill with room for Claire and maybe, just maybe, Christian will bring a date. He said, now don't get excited but I might bring a girl. DON'T GET EXCITED! What world does he live in? Roger and Stephanie took Connor for his first visit to Disneyland -- in the sun. I received a text from Roger saying Connor had a great first visit to Disneyland, full details to follow. Today is the day, I'll get the full details at my playdate, and today the sun is shinning as we warm to a toasty weekend, high 70's -- no rain.
Speaking of turtles: a health message from Jean:
As I was lying in bed pondering the problems of the world, I rapidly realized
that I don't really give a rat's hiney. It's the tortoise life for me!
1. If walking is good for your health, the postman would be immortal.
2. A whale swims all day, only eats fish, drinks water, and is fat.
3. A rabbit runs and hops and only lives 8 months.
4. A tortoise doesn't run and does nothing, yet it lives for 450 years.
And you tell me to exercise?? I don't think so. I'm retired. Go around me.
My Pleasant Hill buddy Ray McLain sent me this: Harry Truman: "When i retire, I'm going to go out on the porch and sit in my rocking chair. After about a week I'm going to begin to very slowly rock."
Last note of the day culled from the Born to Run book: Let us live so that when we come to die, even the undertaker will be sorry. Mark Twain.
I am the super star of my world.
Love to your world.
That's pretty well the extreme of banned.
The school district decided Yertle's pleas for justice for all was a slippery slope they didn't want broadcast.
Life is always interesting.
But that big old super moon just about made up for any short comings I have been experiencing with the world lately.
I had lunch with Carol -- in the rain. As we two old fat ladies were leaving the Mexican restaurant one staff member said to another, in Spanish "Those ladies ate everything on their plate" not realizing Carol understood.
If it looks like an old lady and it talks like an old lady it probably is an old lady.
Finished all my car stuff -- in the rain.
Ian had major dental work -- in the rain.
I went to the grocery store for soft food -- in the rain
Picked up Claire after her most recent monitoring tests -- in the rain.
She is still cancer free.
On my playdate with Connor -- in the rain -- I learned the four most dreaded words in the English language, "Granny play with me." So we played school and race car and driving and drawing and coloring and looking at books and reenacting book plots. Sometimes I had to be the baby and sometime the dump truck. Imagination at work with a willing granny produced an enchanted, exhausting evening. What ever the agenda is -- I'm in!
When he opened his treat tin and spied a new wetnap he said,"Granny, you brought me another one!"
I canceled my date with Lynn because of the rain.
Christian turned 36 -- in the rain.
Drove to work in the rain, drove home in the rain. As I kept buzzing up and down I-5; to Seattle, to Ballard, to Everett, to Lake City, to Mill Creek I thought man I'm tired of the rain, and it's not like me to grow weary of Pacific Northwest rain. However on my way to book club last night -- in the rain -- I realized I'm not tired of the rain, I'm tired of driving in the rain. Old lady driver with old lady eyes with poor visibility in the rain with crazy drivers in the rain produces one very nervous old lady.
I love the rain when it's Spring, when I'm snuggled inside with a book, or a movie, or a taco, or Connor.
It is lush and green here.
And the weather has finally warmed up to mild winter weather.
I finished the Steve Jobs book -- it should have rained on him. They said in the book what a charismatic man he was, how compelling he was, and I will have to say as I was reading the book I kept thinking I don't even like this man, but I kept reading -- fascinated and compelled. What do you get when you cross asshole with visionary -- Steve Jobs.
I have started Born to Run and one third of the way through I'm fascinated and compelled. Very entertaining writing by a slightly subversive clever writer. However...
The two books back to back drew me to the world of superstars. I didn't know but a few of the names in the Steve Jobs book but they were superstars of the tech world. Then I don't know but a few of the names in the running book but they are superstars in the running world. How many worlds are out there with super stars I know nothing about? Cycling, surfing, spiritualist, medical, gourmet and just how important are they in the big world sitting under a super moon? Well, okay, Steve Jobs probably moved the world forward, but how many others? I've done a great job of being the super star in Jan's world. I moved the world forward my way.
Bob Dylan said, as I was reminded in the Steve Jobs book; Get busy living or get busy dying. Is it okay to do both? Here I am living and dying in Seattle -- in the rain.
Ian is home from house sitting, at last my personal assistant is home. Mother's Day dinner is scheduled for Sunday at my favorite Macaroni Grill with room for Claire and maybe, just maybe, Christian will bring a date. He said, now don't get excited but I might bring a girl. DON'T GET EXCITED! What world does he live in? Roger and Stephanie took Connor for his first visit to Disneyland -- in the sun. I received a text from Roger saying Connor had a great first visit to Disneyland, full details to follow. Today is the day, I'll get the full details at my playdate, and today the sun is shinning as we warm to a toasty weekend, high 70's -- no rain.
Speaking of turtles: a health message from Jean:
As I was lying in bed pondering the problems of the world, I rapidly realized
that I don't really give a rat's hiney. It's the tortoise life for me!
1. If walking is good for your health, the postman would be immortal.
2. A whale swims all day, only eats fish, drinks water, and is fat.
3. A rabbit runs and hops and only lives 8 months.
4. A tortoise doesn't run and does nothing, yet it lives for 450 years.
And you tell me to exercise?? I don't think so. I'm retired. Go around me.
My Pleasant Hill buddy Ray McLain sent me this: Harry Truman: "When i retire, I'm going to go out on the porch and sit in my rocking chair. After about a week I'm going to begin to very slowly rock."
Last note of the day culled from the Born to Run book: Let us live so that when we come to die, even the undertaker will be sorry. Mark Twain.
I am the super star of my world.
Love to your world.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Outward Gazing and Inward Gazing
Outward Gazing:
Whole lotta loving going on when it is Connor playdate. I put two pieces of candy, a banana, and a wet nap in his Thursday treat tin. He ignored the candy and banana and grabbed the wet nap and went into wet nap bliss -- I think. He wanted to clean the spot off the peeled banana, the dark shadow that was part of the picture in his picture book, his chin, hands, toys and me. When we went outside he told me I couldn't sit down until he ran upstairs for his sunglasses and retrieved his wet nap to clean the chairs. Oh, he is a fussy one.
I think I will take him another wet nap next week.
I've decided Connor is part meerkat -- the way his head goes up and swivels like it is on a hydraulic lift. I have seen this action before in other animals; baby birds in nests, rabbits in fields. It must be a survival instinct of the weak. Dogs will perk their ears while cats will scan with their eyes. Connor does keep an eye on the action.
Connor got upset with Brandy just like she was a sibling. He went to his daddy and complained, "Brandy barked at me."
It's hard to be a Granny when you can't make daddy behave. If I ask Connor a question, real or rhetorical, Roger answers.
Roger has a trailer hitch but no trailer yet.
I received my income tax and gave it to my car in appreciation of it's faithful service. New tires, master cylinder, tie-rods, and an alignment, now that baby ought to purr for a few more thousand miles.
Rain in Spring is better than rain in Winter. The pink rhododendrons are blooming.
Inward Gazing:
I read a story about a man who goes to construction sites and digs up the little trees that are getting ready to be bulldozed over and then replants them.
Where does that kind of inspiration come from? Is that up-lifting or inspiring? What is the difference? Is one action and one emotion?
What makes people passionate? What makes spirits soar and souls sing? Beauty, art, music, nature, skills, quotes, adventures? I asked Ian what he was inspired by and he said Mom. I asked Roger and he said artistic and athletic feats. I asked Christian and he said he doesn't get inspired.
For right now I'm going to go with anything that makes me think deeply, anything that changes me by the experience, anything that makes me feel renewed -- I think I am back to Connor.
I finished the Tiger book, read The War of the Rats, had lunch with Claire and all my chores are done. The computer glitch I thought was my fault and it was keeping me off the blog was actually the blog renewing itself, upgrading, so now I am back on the blogging track.
Not exactly inspiring but very very comfortable. Back on track with my car, blog, computer, Connor and inward gazing.
Whole lotta loving going on when it is Connor playdate. I put two pieces of candy, a banana, and a wet nap in his Thursday treat tin. He ignored the candy and banana and grabbed the wet nap and went into wet nap bliss -- I think. He wanted to clean the spot off the peeled banana, the dark shadow that was part of the picture in his picture book, his chin, hands, toys and me. When we went outside he told me I couldn't sit down until he ran upstairs for his sunglasses and retrieved his wet nap to clean the chairs. Oh, he is a fussy one.
I think I will take him another wet nap next week.
I've decided Connor is part meerkat -- the way his head goes up and swivels like it is on a hydraulic lift. I have seen this action before in other animals; baby birds in nests, rabbits in fields. It must be a survival instinct of the weak. Dogs will perk their ears while cats will scan with their eyes. Connor does keep an eye on the action.
Connor got upset with Brandy just like she was a sibling. He went to his daddy and complained, "Brandy barked at me."
It's hard to be a Granny when you can't make daddy behave. If I ask Connor a question, real or rhetorical, Roger answers.
Roger has a trailer hitch but no trailer yet.
I received my income tax and gave it to my car in appreciation of it's faithful service. New tires, master cylinder, tie-rods, and an alignment, now that baby ought to purr for a few more thousand miles.
Rain in Spring is better than rain in Winter. The pink rhododendrons are blooming.
Inward Gazing:
I read a story about a man who goes to construction sites and digs up the little trees that are getting ready to be bulldozed over and then replants them.
Where does that kind of inspiration come from? Is that up-lifting or inspiring? What is the difference? Is one action and one emotion?
What makes people passionate? What makes spirits soar and souls sing? Beauty, art, music, nature, skills, quotes, adventures? I asked Ian what he was inspired by and he said Mom. I asked Roger and he said artistic and athletic feats. I asked Christian and he said he doesn't get inspired.
For right now I'm going to go with anything that makes me think deeply, anything that changes me by the experience, anything that makes me feel renewed -- I think I am back to Connor.
I finished the Tiger book, read The War of the Rats, had lunch with Claire and all my chores are done. The computer glitch I thought was my fault and it was keeping me off the blog was actually the blog renewing itself, upgrading, so now I am back on the blogging track.
Not exactly inspiring but very very comfortable. Back on track with my car, blog, computer, Connor and inward gazing.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Two Questions
Is fire chasing Jeff?
-- and --
Are tornado's chasing Cathy? Didn't one chase her to Branson? Didn't one go east of Dallas when she was in Tyler? Was Cathy in Norman today?
Just wondering.
-- and --
Are tornado's chasing Cathy? Didn't one chase her to Branson? Didn't one go east of Dallas when she was in Tyler? Was Cathy in Norman today?
Just wondering.
One Perfect Day
After I received the advertisement, the urgent advertisement, warning me that being hard of hearing leads to dementia and Alzheimer's I figured I am doomed, so what the heck just enjoy the day.
Up early for a bit of Facebook time, computer time, making list time, and several cups of coffee.
A delicious leftover breakfast and when I say leftover, I mean leftovers of leftovers. The leftover roast from Easter Sunday's French dips became a savory Beef Pot Pie, which two days later became my delicious leftover breakfast.
The Sun came out with shirt sleeve weather, finally, and brilliant snow covered mountains and shimmering water. The absolute best of the Pacific Northwest showing some color at last.
Ian up early, well I had already had time to get up early, have a nap and get up again, but it was early for Ian.
Hair cuts -- mine was perfect cowlick and all, and Ian didn't complain about his.
Grocery shopping with a QFC run; meats and treats. My freezer was getting pretty bare and lucky me QFC was having a meat sale. I swear the chocolate cake was for Ian.
Library for a quick pick-up of waiting items.
Pharmacy for an early pick-up of meds -- and they were already done.
Lunch at Ivar's by the Ferry dock; perfect fish and chips, perfect french fries, perfect perfect clam chowder. More sunshine, mountains and water and Ian to make the food run and the trash run. Does it get any better? Well, yes it does.
I had Ian to haul in and put away all the groceries. Ian, does it get any better? Well, yes it does. He did the laundry and I didn't. I swear the chocolate cake was for him.
Movie time; The Descendants a wonderful, wonderful film.
A special delivery to my Little Chef Friend Amanda. I had promised her some fabric for the doll house she is making for her daughters, so instead of taking it to work for her to haul home on the bus, I did a drive by and gave her a bushel basket of fabric and the bushel basket. I included two Barbies from Ian's old collection with a shoe box of Barbie outfits. Jasmine and Snow White now have a new home and I have one square meter less stuff.
The playdate with The Connorman was a bit -- busy. I think he is still reeling from an Easter sugar high. He tried to lock me out on the patio, in a week or two I think he will be able to succeed. It's a good thing I have a secure access. I will be in real trouble when he can lock both the front and the back door. Or I won't go outside to smoke anymore.
The day care teacher said he hadn't got along with his fellow playmates at all until after his nap.
When I was fastening him in his car seat I nuzzled him and said I love you. He said you are too loud granny.
All afternoon he kept wanting things that I told him he would have to wait and ask his mommy about. Things like M & M's, chocolate bunnies, chocolate eggs, jelly beans, peeps, finally he heard the garage door open and ran to the back door, when Roger entered he threw himself down and said you aren't mommy. Yep a bit busy.
Roger and Stephanie were bubbling with good will and summer plans are shaping up. California in May, Colorado in July, a summertime cruise on the Fortener's boat sometime in between. They are going to forgo the Ragnar run this year to go to Stephanie's family reunion. They were going to go look at a camper so I came home a bit early.
Dinner at home was my QFC treat; a croissant and fresh tomato sandwich, perfect, perfect, perfect.
A first glimpse of a barely blooming rhododendron bush -- purple. A long chatty visit with Kathy. A bit of the Tiger book I'm reading. Some more Easter dinner left-overs -- fresh strawberries and pineapple, and no chocolate cake, I swear.
The only thing missing from my two son day was a Christian connection, but two out of three ain't bad. Besides, his left-over sparkle from Easter is still lingering. He talked, laughed, ate, entertained Connor, talked politics, work, movies, books, and music. He turned me onto some truly amazing music which I will now share with you.
Go to YouTube and watch Songs Around the World; Playing for Change especially Stand by Me and One Love they might bring a tear to your eye.
One perfect day. Life in the simple lane.
Up early for a bit of Facebook time, computer time, making list time, and several cups of coffee.
A delicious leftover breakfast and when I say leftover, I mean leftovers of leftovers. The leftover roast from Easter Sunday's French dips became a savory Beef Pot Pie, which two days later became my delicious leftover breakfast.
The Sun came out with shirt sleeve weather, finally, and brilliant snow covered mountains and shimmering water. The absolute best of the Pacific Northwest showing some color at last.
Ian up early, well I had already had time to get up early, have a nap and get up again, but it was early for Ian.
Hair cuts -- mine was perfect cowlick and all, and Ian didn't complain about his.
Grocery shopping with a QFC run; meats and treats. My freezer was getting pretty bare and lucky me QFC was having a meat sale. I swear the chocolate cake was for Ian.
Library for a quick pick-up of waiting items.
Pharmacy for an early pick-up of meds -- and they were already done.
Lunch at Ivar's by the Ferry dock; perfect fish and chips, perfect french fries, perfect perfect clam chowder. More sunshine, mountains and water and Ian to make the food run and the trash run. Does it get any better? Well, yes it does.
I had Ian to haul in and put away all the groceries. Ian, does it get any better? Well, yes it does. He did the laundry and I didn't. I swear the chocolate cake was for him.
Movie time; The Descendants a wonderful, wonderful film.
A special delivery to my Little Chef Friend Amanda. I had promised her some fabric for the doll house she is making for her daughters, so instead of taking it to work for her to haul home on the bus, I did a drive by and gave her a bushel basket of fabric and the bushel basket. I included two Barbies from Ian's old collection with a shoe box of Barbie outfits. Jasmine and Snow White now have a new home and I have one square meter less stuff.
The playdate with The Connorman was a bit -- busy. I think he is still reeling from an Easter sugar high. He tried to lock me out on the patio, in a week or two I think he will be able to succeed. It's a good thing I have a secure access. I will be in real trouble when he can lock both the front and the back door. Or I won't go outside to smoke anymore.
The day care teacher said he hadn't got along with his fellow playmates at all until after his nap.
When I was fastening him in his car seat I nuzzled him and said I love you. He said you are too loud granny.
All afternoon he kept wanting things that I told him he would have to wait and ask his mommy about. Things like M & M's, chocolate bunnies, chocolate eggs, jelly beans, peeps, finally he heard the garage door open and ran to the back door, when Roger entered he threw himself down and said you aren't mommy. Yep a bit busy.
Roger and Stephanie were bubbling with good will and summer plans are shaping up. California in May, Colorado in July, a summertime cruise on the Fortener's boat sometime in between. They are going to forgo the Ragnar run this year to go to Stephanie's family reunion. They were going to go look at a camper so I came home a bit early.
Dinner at home was my QFC treat; a croissant and fresh tomato sandwich, perfect, perfect, perfect.
A first glimpse of a barely blooming rhododendron bush -- purple. A long chatty visit with Kathy. A bit of the Tiger book I'm reading. Some more Easter dinner left-overs -- fresh strawberries and pineapple, and no chocolate cake, I swear.
The only thing missing from my two son day was a Christian connection, but two out of three ain't bad. Besides, his left-over sparkle from Easter is still lingering. He talked, laughed, ate, entertained Connor, talked politics, work, movies, books, and music. He turned me onto some truly amazing music which I will now share with you.
Go to YouTube and watch Songs Around the World; Playing for Change especially Stand by Me and One Love they might bring a tear to your eye.
One perfect day. Life in the simple lane.
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