I read the phrase "A Year of Living With Yourself" and asked myself aren't we always living with ourselves? What's this year stuff?
I heard a woman say, after a successful thirty year career, "I really need to take time to focus on my children." Huh? What was she doing all those years before.
How many times have you heard someone say "Now I'm going to live for me."
I don't know about you, but I can't suddenly become someone else, somehow else, a new improved version of me. I've lived with myself, as myself, as far back as my memory goes. Sometimes I cringe at those memories, they weren't always, shall we say, elevated, but they are all mine, not dictated. I've loved myself, hated myself, expressed my joy, my pain, my highs my lows. I've been proud, embarrassed, and sometimes I've whispered close to the sublime.
Being yourself isn't self-centered or selfish, it's all we can be even if we pretend it's not. I can't be you, you can't be me any more than we can be a mountian or a squid, we are our own unique combination of molecules and experiences. We hit the ground at birth and continue on as ourselves in spite of all our self-improvement or theories about self improvement.
Pundits and critics abound with opinions about your life and the way you are living it, but that is all it is, opinions. Opinions don't live in the trenches with us as we hobble through our days and years. Opinions don't live in our DNA. Including this opinion.
Those milestone years, 30, 40, 50, 60, don't know about 70 yet, where people want to own who they are -- is a myth. Sorry, it doesn't work that way. You are all you have ever been. If you know me then you have probably heard me say: I've been young and old, fat and thin, rich and poor, married and single, right and left coaster, sick and healthy, but I have never changed, can't change. I have always been who and what I am, I have always been artsy, liberal, lived on the fringe, and any and all the other adjectives that make up a picture of me. Nothing, nothing, nothing changes who you are. You might be more or less exposed, more or less happy, more or less anything, but the good and bad news is you are always you.
So I will continue to be me until God tells me not to
and punches my lights out.
That is the way it works.
Now on a different note: An Ode to Jerry:
Twas the night after Christmas and all through the house
My bones creaking so loud I woke up the mouse
The cane was close by, close by my chair
I had high hopes of discarding it after the new year
I no longer could snuggle down in my bed
So many pain pills dancing in my head
Off to the doctor I go once again
Jane is beside me my needs to attend
It's a mystery, a puzzle, a quandary to boot
A pain in the back is trouble galoot
Wait and see said the doctor, doctor number three
But for now we need to just let it be
So here I am, doubled over with a cane
My life continues pretty much just the same
The kids had their Christmas in spite of the ice
Jane's and mine also was pretty darn nice
Until this get fixed I'll continue to hobble
Now that Christmas is over and New Year on the 'morrow
It's no fun going to pieces part by part
I just wanted to say that from the bottom of my heart
And is case you are wondering about my mood
I can still say to myself -- Life Is Good.
May we all keep on living until God punches our light out.
Love, Jan
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Friday, December 21, 2012
A Bigger Picture
News flash; Kate Middleton is pregnant.
We had our first slushy snow and then another and maybe one more.
I can now work from home during snow. Two yeahs.
I'm a lazy Christmas shopper -- shoes and t-shrts -- that's about my style.
Ian was offered a good job at an English as a Second Language school as a registrar. It was a long hard thoughtful process, but he finally decided to accept the new position with all of it's challenges and benefits. He really loves Something Silver but felt drawn to the new horizon and opportunities, however when he tendered his resignation to Something Silver (he has worked there for ten years) they, after a long hard thoughtful process created a new position just for him.
After the new year he will merchandise all nine of their stores with a few other obligations thrown in; inventory, buying, and occasionally moving furniture, just like a man-of-the-cave. He is much more excited about the creative direction his life has turned instead of collecting funds and academia. He will have to start traveling to Florida, California, Oregon and of course Washington. He has many new and some slightly scary activities in front of him -- and a raise.
After four years I finally lost that dern wobbly front tooth. The one the dentist wanted to pull along with all my other front teeth about four years ago, but I resisted. Now I am faced with a decision; do I succumb to vanity or stay practical and cavalier. How much do I want to spend and how much do I care -- for a tooth? A tooth won't make me any smarter dumber, or cuter for that matter, since I have pretty much passed the cute stage anyway. A tooth won't make me younger or stop the world from ending. Aren't I of an age and temperament that I can not give a flip? Yeah, I think so too.
Bo is traveling to Florida to be with friends for two weeks over Christmas holiday. As much as I want her to enjoy and experience the holiday I will sorely miss her not being around -- so we are having a small bon voyage Christmas get together this Saturday evening. A soup and sandwiches sort of evening.
Connor has discovered the power of "Donalds, Donalds, Donalds.
I want Donalds" mantra.
Cute when it isn't your kid.
All of my Christmas shopping is complete.
All of Connor's Christmas gifts from me crash.
That boy does like a good crash.
My send cards project has been successful for two months.
Only ten months to go.
I watched Collin Firth perform naked in a movie last night, A Single Man, and wondered if Taylor has performed naked yet. Anyone know?
Jerry how are you feeling?
Brittany looks back to normal.
Tal's been fixed.
Nora, do you have a roommate or house guest?
The Taylor Christmas breakfast has come and gone.
Any one thinking of 2013 reunion yet?
Will Amber and Mark make their Valentine trip to Greenleaf?
Ray McLain wants to come to reunion next year.
I tried to book a cabin and they laughed at me.
Jeff says he is only bringing a suitcase, chairs
and a goodie box to reunion next year.
Janice's birthday is just around the corner and I am booked.
May your Christmas encompass all the moments of love and affection that turns a meal and gifts into something bigger...
... and may the crooked path of life lead you to wondrous places.
We had our first slushy snow and then another and maybe one more.
I can now work from home during snow. Two yeahs.
I'm a lazy Christmas shopper -- shoes and t-shrts -- that's about my style.
Ian was offered a good job at an English as a Second Language school as a registrar. It was a long hard thoughtful process, but he finally decided to accept the new position with all of it's challenges and benefits. He really loves Something Silver but felt drawn to the new horizon and opportunities, however when he tendered his resignation to Something Silver (he has worked there for ten years) they, after a long hard thoughtful process created a new position just for him.
After the new year he will merchandise all nine of their stores with a few other obligations thrown in; inventory, buying, and occasionally moving furniture, just like a man-of-the-cave. He is much more excited about the creative direction his life has turned instead of collecting funds and academia. He will have to start traveling to Florida, California, Oregon and of course Washington. He has many new and some slightly scary activities in front of him -- and a raise.
After four years I finally lost that dern wobbly front tooth. The one the dentist wanted to pull along with all my other front teeth about four years ago, but I resisted. Now I am faced with a decision; do I succumb to vanity or stay practical and cavalier. How much do I want to spend and how much do I care -- for a tooth? A tooth won't make me any smarter dumber, or cuter for that matter, since I have pretty much passed the cute stage anyway. A tooth won't make me younger or stop the world from ending. Aren't I of an age and temperament that I can not give a flip? Yeah, I think so too.
Bo is traveling to Florida to be with friends for two weeks over Christmas holiday. As much as I want her to enjoy and experience the holiday I will sorely miss her not being around -- so we are having a small bon voyage Christmas get together this Saturday evening. A soup and sandwiches sort of evening.
Connor has discovered the power of "Donalds, Donalds, Donalds.
I want Donalds" mantra.
Cute when it isn't your kid.
All of my Christmas shopping is complete.
All of Connor's Christmas gifts from me crash.
That boy does like a good crash.
My send cards project has been successful for two months.
Only ten months to go.
I watched Collin Firth perform naked in a movie last night, A Single Man, and wondered if Taylor has performed naked yet. Anyone know?
Jerry how are you feeling?
Brittany looks back to normal.
Tal's been fixed.
Nora, do you have a roommate or house guest?
The Taylor Christmas breakfast has come and gone.
Any one thinking of 2013 reunion yet?
Will Amber and Mark make their Valentine trip to Greenleaf?
Ray McLain wants to come to reunion next year.
I tried to book a cabin and they laughed at me.
Jeff says he is only bringing a suitcase, chairs
and a goodie box to reunion next year.
Janice's birthday is just around the corner and I am booked.
May your Christmas encompass all the moments of love and affection that turns a meal and gifts into something bigger...
... and may the crooked path of life lead you to wondrous places.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Kids and Christmas
Christmas comes to us all once a year! My favorite Christmas song by Mahalia Jackson.
Christmas in retail makes you sag just a little, so I'm basking in the glow of kids and Christmas. Kids and Christmas and noisy toys. Of hugs and "I love yous." Of trips to Santa and toy catalogs. Of parties and feasting and joy.
I'm also pondering the sadness of children struggling to breath, fighting cancer, mending from broken bones, homes, hearts. The young ones where Christmas is of secondary concern -- or beyond concern entirely. I'm thinking of all those gifts bought with no longer a child to receive.
Christmas touches those deep places. Deep in our heart where goodness resides. Where faith resides. Where love resides. Where compassion resides. Secular or spiritual Christmas comes to us all once a year. It is a weighty moment in the yearly cycle of our life.
I just watched the movie Jesus of Nazareth by Franco Zeffirelli a powerful retelling of the timeless story. Jesus: uneducated, homeless, unemployed, living off charity, preaching tolerance, forgiveness, unity, joy, love. Born in a hovel, buried in a borrowed grave leaving many lessons I have yet to learn.
Christmas comes to us all once a year.
Christmas in retail makes you sag just a little, so I'm basking in the glow of kids and Christmas. Kids and Christmas and noisy toys. Of hugs and "I love yous." Of trips to Santa and toy catalogs. Of parties and feasting and joy.
I'm also pondering the sadness of children struggling to breath, fighting cancer, mending from broken bones, homes, hearts. The young ones where Christmas is of secondary concern -- or beyond concern entirely. I'm thinking of all those gifts bought with no longer a child to receive.
Christmas touches those deep places. Deep in our heart where goodness resides. Where faith resides. Where love resides. Where compassion resides. Secular or spiritual Christmas comes to us all once a year. It is a weighty moment in the yearly cycle of our life.
I just watched the movie Jesus of Nazareth by Franco Zeffirelli a powerful retelling of the timeless story. Jesus: uneducated, homeless, unemployed, living off charity, preaching tolerance, forgiveness, unity, joy, love. Born in a hovel, buried in a borrowed grave leaving many lessons I have yet to learn.
Christmas comes to us all once a year.
Friday, December 7, 2012
The Mighty Fine Snowman
The Mighty Fine Snowman, a short story.
After a particularly big winter storm Snowman was feeling mighty fine, mighty fine. "I'm mighty fine," he said, "Look at how fat and round I am. So well packed. My children did a magnificent job making me. Why, I hardly have a speck of grass stuck to me anywhere. I'm packed so tight I can probably last the whole winter long.
"This is a wonderful scarf they brought me, so red and long, it nearly sweeps the ground with it's fringe, and it wraps around my neck soooo smooth.
"Would you just look at how I gleam in the sun. I sparkle and shine. Yes, I am mighty fine.
"My whole family worked on me, so I must be important. I can tell there were adults here, no child could get me so tall.
"I have boots and mittens, nothing was forgot. My charcoal eyes are the very best. I'm so proud of my rock buttons. My nose is a wonderful, stupendous carrot. Even my hat is fantastic. What an excellent hat, brown is absolutely my color.
"I've heard of a few good snowmen, but me, I'm mighty fine. My, my, my I'm mighty fine."
The mighty fine Snowman almost rocked back and forth he was so pleased with himself. He hummed a little wintry tune as he looked around out of his splendid charcoal eyes, the ones he was so pleased with.
He was surprised when he looked across the yard and saw a Snow Dragon. A Snow Dragon, just lying there sleeping in the sun. "Well, how absurd," he muttered. The Dragon heard, but pretended he didn't.
"Harrumph," harrumphed the Snowman, "There have never been Snow Dragons around here before. How did this happen?"
The Snow Dragon turned his sparkling, crystal eyes (well, I think he turned his eyes) and said in his deep Snow Dragon voice, "Somebody had to make me, for here I am all long and slithery, but not scary at all."
"My scarf is eight feet long," the Snowman bragged.
"Well, my tail is twenty-five feet long," said the Snow Dragon rather smugly. "My children measured me."
"I never particularly liked long tails myself," said the mighty fine Snowman. "Who ever heard of a Snow Dragon. I am most shocked, here in this neighborhood."
The Snow Dragon had been taught to be polite so he answered quite slowly. "There were lots of children here today. They liked (he stressed the word 'liked' a second time) they liked making me. They were very proud of me. They got excited at how big I grew and how well I turned out. I was quite a success."
"Well," said the Snowman, changing the subject, "You don't gleam at all!"
"I got sprayed with colored water," said the Dragon, "Blue and green, even a little violet and magenta here around my spines."
"It looks most odd is all I have to say," said the Snowman, "Most odd," and he looked down at the Dragon again. "Who ever heard of a snow snout so long and low to the ground. Mine is a proper carrot nose--"
"-- I like my snout," said the Dragon, "Just the way it was made. It's over a foot wide." By now the Snow Dragon was getting just a little bit cranky. "I think I'll take a nap," he said, "you tire me out," and with that he closed his large, gleaming, crystal eyes. (Well, I think he closed his eyes.)
"Do as you please," said the Snowman and turned his attention back to his mighty fine self, and tried not to notice the horrid Snow Dragon sleeping like a fifty-foot giant in the neighbor's yard.
"What's that sticking out of your head?" the Snowman couldn't help but ask, his curiosity was just to great.
The Dragon rumbled in his Snow Dragony voice, "One boy gave me some horns. Don't try to make something out of it. I think they are a rather nice touch. Creative, a creative touch."
With his eyes closed the Snow Dragon thought about Mr. Mighty Fine Snowman and tried and tried to think of some way to melt him right down into the ground!
Mr. Snowman wanted to pick his rock buttons off of his chest and chuck them at the Dragon. He huffed and puffed and tried to turn away, but, of course he stayed stuck right where he was.
The Snowman and the Snow Dragon lived next door to each other for a very long time, but the never liked each other, not even on Christmas Day.
The End
After a particularly big winter storm Snowman was feeling mighty fine, mighty fine. "I'm mighty fine," he said, "Look at how fat and round I am. So well packed. My children did a magnificent job making me. Why, I hardly have a speck of grass stuck to me anywhere. I'm packed so tight I can probably last the whole winter long.
"This is a wonderful scarf they brought me, so red and long, it nearly sweeps the ground with it's fringe, and it wraps around my neck soooo smooth.
"Would you just look at how I gleam in the sun. I sparkle and shine. Yes, I am mighty fine.
"My whole family worked on me, so I must be important. I can tell there were adults here, no child could get me so tall.
"I have boots and mittens, nothing was forgot. My charcoal eyes are the very best. I'm so proud of my rock buttons. My nose is a wonderful, stupendous carrot. Even my hat is fantastic. What an excellent hat, brown is absolutely my color.
"I've heard of a few good snowmen, but me, I'm mighty fine. My, my, my I'm mighty fine."
The mighty fine Snowman almost rocked back and forth he was so pleased with himself. He hummed a little wintry tune as he looked around out of his splendid charcoal eyes, the ones he was so pleased with.
He was surprised when he looked across the yard and saw a Snow Dragon. A Snow Dragon, just lying there sleeping in the sun. "Well, how absurd," he muttered. The Dragon heard, but pretended he didn't.
"Harrumph," harrumphed the Snowman, "There have never been Snow Dragons around here before. How did this happen?"
The Snow Dragon turned his sparkling, crystal eyes (well, I think he turned his eyes) and said in his deep Snow Dragon voice, "Somebody had to make me, for here I am all long and slithery, but not scary at all."
"My scarf is eight feet long," the Snowman bragged.
"Well, my tail is twenty-five feet long," said the Snow Dragon rather smugly. "My children measured me."
"I never particularly liked long tails myself," said the mighty fine Snowman. "Who ever heard of a Snow Dragon. I am most shocked, here in this neighborhood."
The Snow Dragon had been taught to be polite so he answered quite slowly. "There were lots of children here today. They liked (he stressed the word 'liked' a second time) they liked making me. They were very proud of me. They got excited at how big I grew and how well I turned out. I was quite a success."
"Well," said the Snowman, changing the subject, "You don't gleam at all!"
"I got sprayed with colored water," said the Dragon, "Blue and green, even a little violet and magenta here around my spines."
"It looks most odd is all I have to say," said the Snowman, "Most odd," and he looked down at the Dragon again. "Who ever heard of a snow snout so long and low to the ground. Mine is a proper carrot nose--"
"-- I like my snout," said the Dragon, "Just the way it was made. It's over a foot wide." By now the Snow Dragon was getting just a little bit cranky. "I think I'll take a nap," he said, "you tire me out," and with that he closed his large, gleaming, crystal eyes. (Well, I think he closed his eyes.)
"Do as you please," said the Snowman and turned his attention back to his mighty fine self, and tried not to notice the horrid Snow Dragon sleeping like a fifty-foot giant in the neighbor's yard.
"What's that sticking out of your head?" the Snowman couldn't help but ask, his curiosity was just to great.
The Dragon rumbled in his Snow Dragony voice, "One boy gave me some horns. Don't try to make something out of it. I think they are a rather nice touch. Creative, a creative touch."
With his eyes closed the Snow Dragon thought about Mr. Mighty Fine Snowman and tried and tried to think of some way to melt him right down into the ground!
Mr. Snowman wanted to pick his rock buttons off of his chest and chuck them at the Dragon. He huffed and puffed and tried to turn away, but, of course he stayed stuck right where he was.
The Snowman and the Snow Dragon lived next door to each other for a very long time, but the never liked each other, not even on Christmas Day.
The End
Friday, November 30, 2012
Turkey is Done
Turkey is done -- task completed. That baby has been stripped, souped, frozen and the carcass thrown away. The soup is fantastic; I used potatoes, tomatoes, shitake mushrooms, red onions and asparagus. It don't get much better.
Today is give blood, buy an airline ticket, pay bills, a weird movie (The Future,) a good book and I think I will make some blueberry muffins. It is raining here in the Pacific Northwest and blueberry muffins always taste better when it is rainy, cool and overcast.
Love going out to you on this special Friday.
Oh, by the way, Jeff says he will bring a suitcase and chairs to next years reunion.
Today is give blood, buy an airline ticket, pay bills, a weird movie (The Future,) a good book and I think I will make some blueberry muffins. It is raining here in the Pacific Northwest and blueberry muffins always taste better when it is rainy, cool and overcast.
Love going out to you on this special Friday.
Oh, by the way, Jeff says he will bring a suitcase and chairs to next years reunion.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
A Day in the Life
Toys, gifts, Christmas, Christian, birthdays, tickets, gloves, turkey, movies, Bo, boxes, bank, pedi, medicine, soup, Melissa and Doug, Trader Joe's, books breakfast and friends. Okay, so it isn't exploring Mongolia, but it is my life.
Connor's toy was arriving per the UPS tracking information, and did. Two boxes sitting on my doorstep. I was sorely confused because the one item I ordered came in two boxes. Go figure. The one BIG box made sense because I had ordered one BIG item, but the little box sitting on top, addressed to me shouldn't be. I spent more than the appropriate amount of time trying to find M&D's telephone number on their website so I could call and tell them a mistake had been made. I procrastinated calling them. I ignored the box, I walked around the box, I pondered the extra box and finally I opened the thing and I'll be damned it was a surprise thank you gift. Go Melissa and Doug! A nice thank you gift. So Connor will receive the mighty fine cardboard blocks, like the ones Julia bought for Andrew, the ones that had nine lives, the ones that didn't die, the ones you could crash and then stack up and crash again. Connor does like to crash things. Plus the adorable free gift, a three piece bubble set: bubbles, a tray and a TURTLE. How perfect is that. Christmas is off to a fine start.
It was a four gift day: one for Connor plus the surprise, one for Bo, and one for a friend at work. You've met her Cathy and Jean, at the Outlet Mall, Jo-Anne.
I had a sweet drive to Christian's work to pick up a free give-away Walt's was offering their customers. Just because I don't pay for my oil changes doesn't mean I'm not a preferred customer, anyway I picked up the free texting gloves to delight my friend Jo-Anne with. She is the texting queen. Wait a minute the queen might be Cathy or Brittany. Wait a minute the king might be Ian, I think he texts someone about every fifteen minutes or so.
And I was able to see sweet Christian during my drive by. The place was dead and the crew was lazily sitting around until I drove up when they all became busy and moved away. So I kissed and was kissed by Christian, took my free texting gloves and left. No chit chat with the tall guy.
How many people are trying to get to sunny Southern California for Janice's seventieth birthday? Janice had an airline voucher I could use, so I'm checking the flights and arranging rides and feeling a trip coming on. I was going anyway, but man the voucher makes it easy. Jerry? Jane? Julia? Jean? Cathy? Brittany?
Free free free I feel a pattern, just so you don't get the wrong idea I bought the toy from Melissa and Doug, I bought my groceries from Trader Joe's, I bought the gas to do the drive by.
Texting gloves -- check that task is done.
Turkey -- no check -- that task is not done. That carcass is still sitting in the refrigerator waiting to be frozen or turned into soup. A must do in the life of Jan today.
Instead of cleaning the turkey meat off the turkey bones I came home from my errands and had a little Trader Joe's lunch and finished watching a movie; Delores Claiborne. It was good, an oldie, but one of Kathy Bates best performances. Plus I pondered buying some CD's for my son's Christmas. They are so hard to buy for. Any ideas call collect.
I was able to buy Bo a little gift at Trader Joe's. I went for yogurt and frozen mangos, I left with yogurt, frozen mangos, lunch and a little gift for Bo. That was fun. Bo, Stephanie, and Connor are all easy to buy for -- check, check, check that task is done.
Boxes, jars, bottles, and toys are now waiting for Ian to wrap and make beautiful.
I visited the bank where I put money in instead of out. That was fun.
I finally had the energy to stop and get a pedi on my way home. This is a task I always put off for about three or four months, some how it is hard for me to actually stop and do it. A lot of fuss and bother. Waiting my turn. Waiting for the toes to dry. Scuffling around in the spa slippers. As I was finally starting to relax in the comfy spa chair it went haywire and squirted me with about two gallons of water. The staff was very concerned about the malfunctioning chair and not so concerned about their drenched customer. The only apology I received was "It isn't your day," but they were wrong. I'll find another pedi place and it was a lovely day.
Medicine ordered -- check that task is done.
Soup -- not checked -- that task remains stubbornly undone but will be done today. Wait, I'll get back to you on that.
Melissa and Doug -- check that task is done. They don't need called today because box two was a gift. Now I can delete all the communication emails out of my inbox. By the way they have been a great company to work with. I recommend them. I give them a testimonial. If you are buying for kids try Melissa and Doug.
Trader Joe's was exploding with Christmas. They had goodies in every conceivable format, and I went with a friend the very best way to do anything. My friend Mary has three daughters and two granddaughters so she is very knowledgeable about girlie stuff and I trust her judgement. She was buying what I bought Bo times three. I walked out with a smile on my face at what a good job I had done -- check that task is done and I didn't even know it was a task. I didn't even have to think, I just followed where Mary led. She got a free pair of texting gloves at Christian's and I got a terrific little something for Bo. Friends always make a day lovely.
Mary, Claire and I met for breakfast at our usual spot. A lovely breakfast, we spent two and one half hours laughing, talking kids, talking shop, talking books, talking Christmas; Mary is headed to Montana, Claire is headed to Minnesota, and just plain talking. Then the drive to Ballard to see Christian, then the foray into Trader Joe's.
Friends make a day lovely even if they don't have any ideas of what to buy my son's for Chrismas and no two gallons of water can ruin it for me.
Today is also shaping up nicely; Ian, shopping, Roger, playdate, turkey -- maybe.
Have a lovely day. If you need help think of sunlight or San Diego, both lovely.
Connor's toy was arriving per the UPS tracking information, and did. Two boxes sitting on my doorstep. I was sorely confused because the one item I ordered came in two boxes. Go figure. The one BIG box made sense because I had ordered one BIG item, but the little box sitting on top, addressed to me shouldn't be. I spent more than the appropriate amount of time trying to find M&D's telephone number on their website so I could call and tell them a mistake had been made. I procrastinated calling them. I ignored the box, I walked around the box, I pondered the extra box and finally I opened the thing and I'll be damned it was a surprise thank you gift. Go Melissa and Doug! A nice thank you gift. So Connor will receive the mighty fine cardboard blocks, like the ones Julia bought for Andrew, the ones that had nine lives, the ones that didn't die, the ones you could crash and then stack up and crash again. Connor does like to crash things. Plus the adorable free gift, a three piece bubble set: bubbles, a tray and a TURTLE. How perfect is that. Christmas is off to a fine start.
It was a four gift day: one for Connor plus the surprise, one for Bo, and one for a friend at work. You've met her Cathy and Jean, at the Outlet Mall, Jo-Anne.
I had a sweet drive to Christian's work to pick up a free give-away Walt's was offering their customers. Just because I don't pay for my oil changes doesn't mean I'm not a preferred customer, anyway I picked up the free texting gloves to delight my friend Jo-Anne with. She is the texting queen. Wait a minute the queen might be Cathy or Brittany. Wait a minute the king might be Ian, I think he texts someone about every fifteen minutes or so.
And I was able to see sweet Christian during my drive by. The place was dead and the crew was lazily sitting around until I drove up when they all became busy and moved away. So I kissed and was kissed by Christian, took my free texting gloves and left. No chit chat with the tall guy.
How many people are trying to get to sunny Southern California for Janice's seventieth birthday? Janice had an airline voucher I could use, so I'm checking the flights and arranging rides and feeling a trip coming on. I was going anyway, but man the voucher makes it easy. Jerry? Jane? Julia? Jean? Cathy? Brittany?
Free free free I feel a pattern, just so you don't get the wrong idea I bought the toy from Melissa and Doug, I bought my groceries from Trader Joe's, I bought the gas to do the drive by.
Texting gloves -- check that task is done.
Turkey -- no check -- that task is not done. That carcass is still sitting in the refrigerator waiting to be frozen or turned into soup. A must do in the life of Jan today.
Instead of cleaning the turkey meat off the turkey bones I came home from my errands and had a little Trader Joe's lunch and finished watching a movie; Delores Claiborne. It was good, an oldie, but one of Kathy Bates best performances. Plus I pondered buying some CD's for my son's Christmas. They are so hard to buy for. Any ideas call collect.
I was able to buy Bo a little gift at Trader Joe's. I went for yogurt and frozen mangos, I left with yogurt, frozen mangos, lunch and a little gift for Bo. That was fun. Bo, Stephanie, and Connor are all easy to buy for -- check, check, check that task is done.
Boxes, jars, bottles, and toys are now waiting for Ian to wrap and make beautiful.
I visited the bank where I put money in instead of out. That was fun.
I finally had the energy to stop and get a pedi on my way home. This is a task I always put off for about three or four months, some how it is hard for me to actually stop and do it. A lot of fuss and bother. Waiting my turn. Waiting for the toes to dry. Scuffling around in the spa slippers. As I was finally starting to relax in the comfy spa chair it went haywire and squirted me with about two gallons of water. The staff was very concerned about the malfunctioning chair and not so concerned about their drenched customer. The only apology I received was "It isn't your day," but they were wrong. I'll find another pedi place and it was a lovely day.
Medicine ordered -- check that task is done.
Soup -- not checked -- that task remains stubbornly undone but will be done today. Wait, I'll get back to you on that.
Melissa and Doug -- check that task is done. They don't need called today because box two was a gift. Now I can delete all the communication emails out of my inbox. By the way they have been a great company to work with. I recommend them. I give them a testimonial. If you are buying for kids try Melissa and Doug.
Trader Joe's was exploding with Christmas. They had goodies in every conceivable format, and I went with a friend the very best way to do anything. My friend Mary has three daughters and two granddaughters so she is very knowledgeable about girlie stuff and I trust her judgement. She was buying what I bought Bo times three. I walked out with a smile on my face at what a good job I had done -- check that task is done and I didn't even know it was a task. I didn't even have to think, I just followed where Mary led. She got a free pair of texting gloves at Christian's and I got a terrific little something for Bo. Friends always make a day lovely.
Mary, Claire and I met for breakfast at our usual spot. A lovely breakfast, we spent two and one half hours laughing, talking kids, talking shop, talking books, talking Christmas; Mary is headed to Montana, Claire is headed to Minnesota, and just plain talking. Then the drive to Ballard to see Christian, then the foray into Trader Joe's.
Friends make a day lovely even if they don't have any ideas of what to buy my son's for Chrismas and no two gallons of water can ruin it for me.
Today is also shaping up nicely; Ian, shopping, Roger, playdate, turkey -- maybe.
Have a lovely day. If you need help think of sunlight or San Diego, both lovely.
Friday, November 23, 2012
The Power of Saying Nice Things
Brittany; this one is for you.
Brittany's post to me on Facebook triggered a deep feeling of satisfaction, of joy, so I pondered the power of saying nice things, of giving compliments and kudos.
Sometimes the right words go emotionally deep, to untouchable places, to places not usually reached because they are buried so deep in obscurity, far far away from joy or pain.
You never know, for sure, what another person needs. You can't know. You can't know the crossed tangled emotional wires of another human.
The power of saying nice things means we aren't invisible. It helps a human to be seen, to be acknowledged. When our struggle is recognized our humanity is recognized. The power of saying nice things enriches us, helps us grow. Saying nice things makes us feel emotionally beautiful, worthy. Worthy to emerge from our cocoon and share the planets air.
The power of saying nice things affects us, touches us, transforms us. Sometimes it feels like divinity in action. It expands our vision of ourselves. The power of saying nice things makes a person feel uplifted, closer to God somehow.
Expand? Worthy? Uplifted? Co-joined to something bigger than ourselves? Man needs the Divine.
Kind words has the power to feed the soul, that infinitesimally small spot somewhere inside us. It recognizes we are congruent with who we are meant to be, that we are on the right path. They recognize our deeper mission on Earth -- our soul job.
There are many compliments given and received, nice words, kind words like " You look good in that dress." or "These cookies are delicious." they are loved but they don't go deep and obscure, they don't feed the soul. And, we, as limited humans have no way of knowing what words are going to touch who, or when, or how deep. It is amazing when somebody walks back into your life 10, 20, or 30 years later and says to you, your kindness touched me deeply.
So thank you Brittany for the kind words and the seed for this blog, an expansion on the thought: The Power of Kind Words.
They said of General George Patton during World War II, "Give him a headline and he is good for thirty miles." Well I feel if you give me a compliment I'm good for thirty miles.
And a word about working: If you don't love what you do, love why you do it.
Love Aunt Jan
Brittany's post to me on Facebook triggered a deep feeling of satisfaction, of joy, so I pondered the power of saying nice things, of giving compliments and kudos.
Sometimes the right words go emotionally deep, to untouchable places, to places not usually reached because they are buried so deep in obscurity, far far away from joy or pain.
You never know, for sure, what another person needs. You can't know. You can't know the crossed tangled emotional wires of another human.
The power of saying nice things means we aren't invisible. It helps a human to be seen, to be acknowledged. When our struggle is recognized our humanity is recognized. The power of saying nice things enriches us, helps us grow. Saying nice things makes us feel emotionally beautiful, worthy. Worthy to emerge from our cocoon and share the planets air.
The power of saying nice things affects us, touches us, transforms us. Sometimes it feels like divinity in action. It expands our vision of ourselves. The power of saying nice things makes a person feel uplifted, closer to God somehow.
Expand? Worthy? Uplifted? Co-joined to something bigger than ourselves? Man needs the Divine.
Kind words has the power to feed the soul, that infinitesimally small spot somewhere inside us. It recognizes we are congruent with who we are meant to be, that we are on the right path. They recognize our deeper mission on Earth -- our soul job.
There are many compliments given and received, nice words, kind words like " You look good in that dress." or "These cookies are delicious." they are loved but they don't go deep and obscure, they don't feed the soul. And, we, as limited humans have no way of knowing what words are going to touch who, or when, or how deep. It is amazing when somebody walks back into your life 10, 20, or 30 years later and says to you, your kindness touched me deeply.
So thank you Brittany for the kind words and the seed for this blog, an expansion on the thought: The Power of Kind Words.
They said of General George Patton during World War II, "Give him a headline and he is good for thirty miles." Well I feel if you give me a compliment I'm good for thirty miles.
And a word about working: If you don't love what you do, love why you do it.
Love Aunt Jan
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Wonderful Things
The Tutankhamen exhibit is in Seattle.
I remember when Julia went to New Orleans for the exhibit when it first came to the United States. She discovered the quote "Wonderful Things" she loved it then and loves it still. I have used the quote so many times you would think I own it.
I have been reading Walking The Bible by Bruce Feiler and he talks about the Fifth Earl of Carnarvon and the archaeologist Howard Carter, who after eighteen years of fruitless search discovered Tutankhamen's tomb, and Mr Carter uttered those famous words. But I have a whole new take on it now.
Connor had a busy morning at Granny's house today. After he woke up from his nap and was all snugly, warm, and rosy cheeked tucked in his Granny's lap he sighed and quietly said, "Granny you have lots of things to look at." I think he thinks he has about twelve years of excavation ahead of him. Made my heart soar.
All morning long he was poking here and there and asking me what is this, what is that. He can manoeuvre into amazingly small places. If he wasn't exploring he was figuring out how something worked. What something was. How it comes apart and goes back together. How to put it back, exactly, where he got it from. He also jumped on the furniture, rocked in all three wiggly chairs, danced to the Rescue Heros CD, fought with his imaginary sword, called my horse skull a dinosaur head, crashed a few cars, shot up the place with Buzz Lightyear, read books, looked at photographs, tasted a few photographs, ate bananas eggs bagels oranges fruit-bites and drank milk. He was no help at all at baking a cake, but was a master at tasting seasoned crackers. He whacked the bag of pecans to turn them into pecan pieces with gusto.
After he did his toilet business he told me at home he always gets a treat after he does his business, I said well get some crackers. No Granny, crackers are a SNACK not a TREAT. So now you know. Granny managed to find him a half-eaten candy bar of Ian's. Sorry Ian.
I think a few wonderful things lies ahead for me also.
Happy Thanksgiving. May it be full of wonderful things.
I remember when Julia went to New Orleans for the exhibit when it first came to the United States. She discovered the quote "Wonderful Things" she loved it then and loves it still. I have used the quote so many times you would think I own it.
I have been reading Walking The Bible by Bruce Feiler and he talks about the Fifth Earl of Carnarvon and the archaeologist Howard Carter, who after eighteen years of fruitless search discovered Tutankhamen's tomb, and Mr Carter uttered those famous words. But I have a whole new take on it now.
Connor had a busy morning at Granny's house today. After he woke up from his nap and was all snugly, warm, and rosy cheeked tucked in his Granny's lap he sighed and quietly said, "Granny you have lots of things to look at." I think he thinks he has about twelve years of excavation ahead of him. Made my heart soar.
All morning long he was poking here and there and asking me what is this, what is that. He can manoeuvre into amazingly small places. If he wasn't exploring he was figuring out how something worked. What something was. How it comes apart and goes back together. How to put it back, exactly, where he got it from. He also jumped on the furniture, rocked in all three wiggly chairs, danced to the Rescue Heros CD, fought with his imaginary sword, called my horse skull a dinosaur head, crashed a few cars, shot up the place with Buzz Lightyear, read books, looked at photographs, tasted a few photographs, ate bananas eggs bagels oranges fruit-bites and drank milk. He was no help at all at baking a cake, but was a master at tasting seasoned crackers. He whacked the bag of pecans to turn them into pecan pieces with gusto.
After he did his toilet business he told me at home he always gets a treat after he does his business, I said well get some crackers. No Granny, crackers are a SNACK not a TREAT. So now you know. Granny managed to find him a half-eaten candy bar of Ian's. Sorry Ian.
I think a few wonderful things lies ahead for me also.
Happy Thanksgiving. May it be full of wonderful things.
Friday, November 9, 2012
Season of Thanksgiving and Gifts
I woke up and made myself that first cup of coffee on this cool cool Puget Sound morning, thirty-five degrees here. I was so thankful for the pleasure that infused me, the aroma, the taste, the warmth. This following close on The Connorman playdate last night, and that following so close on a fabulous book club, segued into remembering the pleasure of experiencing a practically perfect reunion and trip to Arkansas.
Gifts all.
I reflected on how my life/world is all gifts.
Janice is going to be seventy this February, Jean is going to go by train. At reunion I decided to join them. Jerry talked about it, Julia is thinking about it. Then Janice called and said she had an airline voucher I could use to help offset the cost. Another Gift.
I didn't order a six foot tall intellect when Christian was born. I can't take credit for weather, beauty, environment, family. After the Presidential election I can't take credit for being born in America. It wasn't my superior anything, it was the choice of ancestors long gone. Do I make my heart beat, my feet work? I can't order up just any ole' DNA for a bigger brain or pay to have it installed. Or how many and who my siblings are. They are gifts also.
Even God is a gift, however you envision Him to be, however He comes to you, it is a gift from someone else. The Bible, the encyclopedia are all gifts.
The gift of ideas, Jeff turned me onto an interesting book called Walking the Bible. Gift. Ian the gift of hauling, heavy lifting. Christian the gift of an oil change, for bringing an interesting girl into my life. Roger and Stephanie the gift of, well you know who. People give gifts of caring, listening, helping, sharing, loving.
Some gifts take work. Who hasn't been touched by the gift of Jane caring? The work of pets. Somebody did the work to create a car, many somebodies. I don't know about you, but I love my car and what it does for me. All I have to do is keep it filled with gas and keep Christian my son. To keep my car filled with gas I have to work at work. Work is a gift.
Message I read once: "Don't be arrogant, a lot was done before you were born." You can take credit for choices: education, exercise, spouse, books bought and read, your Thanksgiving menu, but the gift of Thanksgiving goes way beyond our fingertips. Thanksgiving came as a gift.
Book club, employment, community, country, writing, chickens, coffee, firemen, are all gifts really.
This reminds me of a quote I have always loved; "Life is the first gift, love the second, understanding the third."
And finally a gift from my friend Carol. We were talking about, oh hell, we were talking about everything and this poem came up. She mentioned it was her dad's favorite and I said it was my dad's favorite. So in case you have lost it like I did, here is a gift from Carol, who got it as a gift from a family member, who got is as a gift from Carol's parents, who got it as a gift from someplace else, and so it goes.
My Job
It's not my place to run the train
The whistle I can't blow
It's not my place to say how far
The trains allowed to go
It's not my place to shoot off steam
Nor even clang the bell
But let the damn
Thing jump the track
And see who catches hell...
And this quote was a gift from Walking the Bible, which in turn was a gift because Jeff chose to share: "The great thing about being married to an archaeologist is the older you get, the more he loves you." Nothing to do with anything, but it made me smile. Smiling? Absolutely a gift, I didn't design the face.
Ain't life grand -- another gift.
Gifts all.
I reflected on how my life/world is all gifts.
Janice is going to be seventy this February, Jean is going to go by train. At reunion I decided to join them. Jerry talked about it, Julia is thinking about it. Then Janice called and said she had an airline voucher I could use to help offset the cost. Another Gift.
I didn't order a six foot tall intellect when Christian was born. I can't take credit for weather, beauty, environment, family. After the Presidential election I can't take credit for being born in America. It wasn't my superior anything, it was the choice of ancestors long gone. Do I make my heart beat, my feet work? I can't order up just any ole' DNA for a bigger brain or pay to have it installed. Or how many and who my siblings are. They are gifts also.
Even God is a gift, however you envision Him to be, however He comes to you, it is a gift from someone else. The Bible, the encyclopedia are all gifts.
The gift of ideas, Jeff turned me onto an interesting book called Walking the Bible. Gift. Ian the gift of hauling, heavy lifting. Christian the gift of an oil change, for bringing an interesting girl into my life. Roger and Stephanie the gift of, well you know who. People give gifts of caring, listening, helping, sharing, loving.
Some gifts take work. Who hasn't been touched by the gift of Jane caring? The work of pets. Somebody did the work to create a car, many somebodies. I don't know about you, but I love my car and what it does for me. All I have to do is keep it filled with gas and keep Christian my son. To keep my car filled with gas I have to work at work. Work is a gift.
Message I read once: "Don't be arrogant, a lot was done before you were born." You can take credit for choices: education, exercise, spouse, books bought and read, your Thanksgiving menu, but the gift of Thanksgiving goes way beyond our fingertips. Thanksgiving came as a gift.
Book club, employment, community, country, writing, chickens, coffee, firemen, are all gifts really.
This reminds me of a quote I have always loved; "Life is the first gift, love the second, understanding the third."
And finally a gift from my friend Carol. We were talking about, oh hell, we were talking about everything and this poem came up. She mentioned it was her dad's favorite and I said it was my dad's favorite. So in case you have lost it like I did, here is a gift from Carol, who got it as a gift from a family member, who got is as a gift from Carol's parents, who got it as a gift from someplace else, and so it goes.
My Job
It's not my place to run the train
The whistle I can't blow
It's not my place to say how far
The trains allowed to go
It's not my place to shoot off steam
Nor even clang the bell
But let the damn
Thing jump the track
And see who catches hell...
And this quote was a gift from Walking the Bible, which in turn was a gift because Jeff chose to share: "The great thing about being married to an archaeologist is the older you get, the more he loves you." Nothing to do with anything, but it made me smile. Smiling? Absolutely a gift, I didn't design the face.
Ain't life grand -- another gift.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Look What Janice Found
Enjoy what Jancie found in The LA Times.
http://www.latimes.com/travel/la-tr-arkansas-20121014,0,4137708.story
Love
http://www.latimes.com/travel/la-tr-arkansas-20121014,0,4137708.story
Love
Spirit of The Taylor Family Reunion
Maddy needed long pants, Mike needed small minnows, Kathy needed chicken, Lynn needed diet Coke -- so off to town we went. And isn't that the way of our reunion. A lot of professional sitting and spurts of trips to town with a little fishing, walking, hay rides, biking, runs to Braggs for you know what, and miscellaneous other stuff.
I don't know how many books were read, tummies fed, or logs burned, but it was grand. No political discussions except Kathy is going to write in Willie Nelson because she can't vote for either candidate. Lynn's knee hurt, Kathy's ice chest fiasco, camp fire cooking. We impressed the dinner guests with two dutch oven cookers and one professional chef.
A reunion of nice people doing nice stuff for nice people.
I guess I won't be put on an ice floe and sent out to sea -- yet. I think I am safe for another year. I was telling Andrew that I was the liberal in the family and he said I know, everyone talks behind your back about what a liberal you are. I said Andrew they don't talk behind my back, they tell me that to my face! What was I saying about nice people? My family is even nice to the liberal.
I don't mind telling you it is hard work getting my life shoved back in it's rut. I have to dig those trenches again. I've been busy with going back to work, restocking the pantry, catching up with friends, paying bills, catching up with movies, book club, Ian, The Connorman. I haven't seen Christian yet, but he took Bo over to Claire's so Bo could look at her computer. Lucky Claire.
Jeff and I talked about how much we missed sending and receiving birthday cards. I had bought a lovely birthday card for Janice and didn't send it. I didn't even send it late. So I came home and bought stamps (I paid extra for the Tiger design because part of the money goes to endangered species. I didn't do it for the endangered species bit, I did it because it is a great looking stamp. Once an artist always an artist.) So here is a Birthday Card Challenge; your mission if you care to accept it is to send birthday cards this year.
Ian came back safe and sound from Orlando and is heading to Portland later this month. He stayed in beautiful old town St Augustine Florida at the beautiful St George Inn and played a bit before heading home. I think he is going to play a bit in Portland before heading home also.
Stephanie and I laid out the Holiday plans. Who is going to be where when and with whom.
The trip to Arkansas couldn't have been better we simply messed about. Jeff drove and it took four adults, two maps, one back seat driver, and one computer to keep us on track going nowhere in particular.
We ate some mighty fine food. Have YOU had deep fried cheese cake? It is worth a trip to Cafe on the Route in Baxter Springs Kansas. On route 66 naturally. The cafe is in an old bank building whose claim to fame is it MIGHT have been robbed by Jesse James and Cole Younger. Julia discovered it on an episode of Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. Only us Taylor's would have lunch in Missouri at Instant Karma for deep fried bacon-wrapped hot dogs and then drive to Kansas for dessert. Let's see how many of us have heart trouble? Oh well I can die with a smile on my face. If anyone asks after I am gone just tell them Jan said the good the bad and the ugly was all good.
We found spectacular Rainbow Bridge: "Crossing Route 66 on the northeast side of town, the unique design is the only example of that type of bridge still in existence today." Okay maybe it wasn't that spectacular but it sure was fun. Nora nixed my idea of photographing her mother in a hitchhikers cheese cake pose. Can't imagine why.
Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art was worthy in every respect. Beautiful, tranquil, stunning, fun. When we ate at their cafe I had gourmet Brown Beans and Cornbread -- with chervil oil. I thought of mother and wondered if the Whitney Museum in New York served brown beans and cornbread. I understand eastern museums are a little jealous of some of Crystal Bridges permanent art work that they don't have. Whiners! I loved Peonies in a Breeze while Julia liked Hollyhocks. So it goes. I was disappointed I missed Stella, my legs finally gave out. Oh well maybe next time.
Isn't that a fun part of the Spirit of life, what's next?
Now back to my rut; mother would understand.
I don't know how many books were read, tummies fed, or logs burned, but it was grand. No political discussions except Kathy is going to write in Willie Nelson because she can't vote for either candidate. Lynn's knee hurt, Kathy's ice chest fiasco, camp fire cooking. We impressed the dinner guests with two dutch oven cookers and one professional chef.
A reunion of nice people doing nice stuff for nice people.
I guess I won't be put on an ice floe and sent out to sea -- yet. I think I am safe for another year. I was telling Andrew that I was the liberal in the family and he said I know, everyone talks behind your back about what a liberal you are. I said Andrew they don't talk behind my back, they tell me that to my face! What was I saying about nice people? My family is even nice to the liberal.
I don't mind telling you it is hard work getting my life shoved back in it's rut. I have to dig those trenches again. I've been busy with going back to work, restocking the pantry, catching up with friends, paying bills, catching up with movies, book club, Ian, The Connorman. I haven't seen Christian yet, but he took Bo over to Claire's so Bo could look at her computer. Lucky Claire.
Jeff and I talked about how much we missed sending and receiving birthday cards. I had bought a lovely birthday card for Janice and didn't send it. I didn't even send it late. So I came home and bought stamps (I paid extra for the Tiger design because part of the money goes to endangered species. I didn't do it for the endangered species bit, I did it because it is a great looking stamp. Once an artist always an artist.) So here is a Birthday Card Challenge; your mission if you care to accept it is to send birthday cards this year.
Ian came back safe and sound from Orlando and is heading to Portland later this month. He stayed in beautiful old town St Augustine Florida at the beautiful St George Inn and played a bit before heading home. I think he is going to play a bit in Portland before heading home also.
Stephanie and I laid out the Holiday plans. Who is going to be where when and with whom.
The trip to Arkansas couldn't have been better we simply messed about. Jeff drove and it took four adults, two maps, one back seat driver, and one computer to keep us on track going nowhere in particular.
We ate some mighty fine food. Have YOU had deep fried cheese cake? It is worth a trip to Cafe on the Route in Baxter Springs Kansas. On route 66 naturally. The cafe is in an old bank building whose claim to fame is it MIGHT have been robbed by Jesse James and Cole Younger. Julia discovered it on an episode of Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. Only us Taylor's would have lunch in Missouri at Instant Karma for deep fried bacon-wrapped hot dogs and then drive to Kansas for dessert. Let's see how many of us have heart trouble? Oh well I can die with a smile on my face. If anyone asks after I am gone just tell them Jan said the good the bad and the ugly was all good.
We found spectacular Rainbow Bridge: "Crossing Route 66 on the northeast side of town, the unique design is the only example of that type of bridge still in existence today." Okay maybe it wasn't that spectacular but it sure was fun. Nora nixed my idea of photographing her mother in a hitchhikers cheese cake pose. Can't imagine why.
Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art was worthy in every respect. Beautiful, tranquil, stunning, fun. When we ate at their cafe I had gourmet Brown Beans and Cornbread -- with chervil oil. I thought of mother and wondered if the Whitney Museum in New York served brown beans and cornbread. I understand eastern museums are a little jealous of some of Crystal Bridges permanent art work that they don't have. Whiners! I loved Peonies in a Breeze while Julia liked Hollyhocks. So it goes. I was disappointed I missed Stella, my legs finally gave out. Oh well maybe next time.
Isn't that a fun part of the Spirit of life, what's next?
Now back to my rut; mother would understand.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Ode to Family
I stepped out of the Fort Smith airport and felt the breeze. The prairie wind is home. The sky is home. The family is home. Nora had me at Boom-a-rangs diner in fifteen minutes with fried okra ordered. Fried okra is home. The drive to the park was blissful. Thank you Nora. Greenleaf State Park is home. All the hellos, happiness and hugs are home. Even all the dogs, four-legged or skewered, were home -- some how.
Jean had a clean cabin for a while because she bunked it alone for a few nights, it might be the first time ever. It probably felt strange to have a cabin to herself after thirty odd years. I think she slept naked.
Cathy had to leave early and bequeathed her "sleep late" cabin to Julia and Tal with firm instructions to the girls to leave it clean. They did. Sorry you had to work Cathy.
Brittany had Dax, her new well behaved dog, and Lindsey her well behaved special friend.
Lindsey reads Shakespeare not Twilight. Silly me.
Chris had food and drinks for everyone. And a special jambalaya for one pot dinner night. Thank you Chris.
Janice had her bubble machine, her crossword puzzles, and welcomed Jan with a comfy nest and bed. Thank you Janice.
Art had Janice and Jan well taken care of. He kept an eye on the bubble machine, hauled the bags, food, totes, parcels and made sure I had safe light to return to the cabin by. He made sure the porch light was on and I had a flashlight to stumble to the bathroom with. Thanks Art.
Jerry had a swollen arm.
Jane had orphan Ellie all grown up and cuddly in Jerry or Jane's lap and snappish any other time. Maddie couldn't get near her at first, but she was persistent and finally won the orphan dog over.
Amber had two dogs, orphan Heidi and not so old but sluggish Maggie, three children, one husband and Ann-Lisette. Amber actually looked relaxed, now you tell me how she did that.
Mark said grace more than once and finally remembered to include t-shirts in his list of blessings. Yes Mark we are blessed once again with your truly lovely family t-shirt design, plus you and Amber do all the blooming work. Thank you. And you made the midnight coffee run with four different kinds of coffee. Well, not quite midnight, we are all getting older.
Taylor had a lot to say about movies, performances, TV episodes, and working. Not so much about ballet other than he will pass the class and graduate.
Ann-Lisette is always a picture of poise and grace. She had skittish Rudy laying by her side and her new hand work is coming along wonderfully. I'm not smart enough to know if it is knitting or crocheting.
Hannah had her drivers license so Amber made fewer trips up and down the hill. I lusted after her pink headband/hat thing.
Blaine has a mouth and knows how to use it. He beat me at every story, punch line, joke, pun, quip, and I thought oh poor poor Amber. However, Blaine did win a pass from me, a forgiveness pass for eight and a half years because he stood up in the big group and introduced himself. The boy is not shy.
Marc arrived with three children in tow, got his tent set up, and commenced to sit with the rest of us around the fire. The fire just isn't complete without him. He didn't bring his orphans Daisy and Dirk.
Clark has grown a foot, I'm not sure I would have recognized him if he wasn't with family. Instead of tall dark and handsome, he is tall blond and handsome.
Jordan never quit smiling and is a most kind cousin to all the little ones. Everyone loves her and she oozed love for everyone.
Jackson I saw swoosh by a time or two, but he is like the wind; can't be caught, tamed or bottled. I couldn't keep track of him. Was he fishing? Was he playing at the playground? Only the wind knows.
Jan made it there and back again, from beginning to end, with a smile on her face. Thanks to everyone who helped make it possible.
Julia made her morning walks/runs/woggles look like fun. She was usually the first for coffee either at Janice's or Jean's. The sibling coffee gathering was fantastic.
Tal cooked, read, fire sat, and didn't torment anyone too much. He looks good, his old ticker is still going strong. I know he walked up poop-out-hill more than once. Show off. You know his food was good at the lake, but I had a taste of his premium cooking in Arkansas. I feel sorry for anyone who hasn't tasted it. If you want a special meal from Mr. Tal Bowman just tell him you want squash. It worked for me, it might work for you.
Nora made the drive to Greenleaf twice, once to deliver me and once to deliver Andrew. How two siblings with only their personal belongings could have such a messy cabin is still a mystery to me. I mean it was strewn with stuff, mystery stuff. I did appreciate the taxi rides up the hill though. Thank you Nora for all the rides.
Andrew knows seventeen times more stuff about movies than I ever thought about. He also always supports his opinion with lots of resources. He missed his calling when he didn't become a lawyer, he would win every case. He also owes me a list of movies so I can catch up, well not exactly catch up more trail closer behind.
Jeff was the master of the main campfire and a master camp fire host. Thanks Jeff for the goodie box, the fire maintenance, the chair unfolding and folding, the napkins, hot dogs, mustard, hatchet, charcoal, charcoal starter, dutch oven, wind break, hot dog holders, fire cooking and wit. Jeff says next year he is only bringing a suitcase.
Summer brought special special Branson, was there ever a better baby in the world. He was precious to us all. Babies are family. Summer's peakiness finally dissipated with five days at the lake. You were looking much better by the end than the beginning Summer.
Jonathan was all heart. When he finally arrived we had to quit Branson holding for a while so Jonathan could get his fair share.
Michael entertained us all with his wit and intelligence. How can a six year old be so smart, oh right, he is Taylor bred.
Branson an angel, no more need be said. He ate, slept, cooed, burbled, hiccuped, smiled, and cuddled us all. Thanks Branson.
Kathy brought Izzy and Harvey, the wild dogs are growing up. She also gave a lesson in how to lose ice chests out of the back of a pick-up truck and if you happened to miss the first demonstration, she repeated it later that day. Sorry Kathy.
Mike fished and photographed when he wasn't walking the dogs, cooking, messing about with kiddos or simply messing about. Thank you for the fish fry, best fish fry I've had in thirty years or so. I never knew anyone who could actually catch fish.
Lynn didn't have her truck and was left stranded a time or two, next year she will have a vehicle.
Cara brought Ellie Mae the howling hound dog. She also carried on a tradition by writing a superb treasure hunt. It was so creative I was jealous. Something fuzzy, something that makes a noise, something beautiful. Michael looked at Kathy and said I'm looking at it right now. Awe!
GG came with Cara now that they are newly weds, but I didn't see much of him, nor did I get a fried baloney sandwich this year. What's up with that?
Avery smiled almost as much at Jordan and caught a fish. Way to go Avery, I think I ate it.
Madison wanted her books marked with her name so they didn't get mixed up with Avery's. She also persisted in befriending Ellie. I thought she would give up when Ellie snapped the fourth time, but not Maddy, she was fearless.
Reunions come and reunions go, an ordinary reunion. Remember the year of the bees, the years of the floods (twice) once when we kept moving to higher ground and once when all the tents came down. Remember the year of James' Army tent with a stove with a chimney and a spare bedroom for Ian and I. Yes, reunions come and reunions go but this one seemed perfect, or as close to perfect as it could get. A thousand points of light, I was going to say by president Regan but damn Tal was right it was president Bush Sr who said that. Thank you for saving me from an embarrassing snafu Tal.
This was the reunion of Branson, sunshine, lost ice chests, fish fry, books and movies, Chris' cooking, of nice people. Art, Janice and I went to Harps in Gore for a bit of grocery shopping, when Janice and Art went back to the store the next day the store lady said "You're back!" Janice explained she was back for milk and the store lady said well they are unloading the truck right now, tell me what you want and I will go get it for you. And she did. This was a special reunion.
Every one was particularly kind to me. I must be one of the older generation because all the youngens kept moving my chair, filling my plate, getting me water, helping helping helping. Thank you youngens.
Actually all of us siblings are getting older, none of us could remember a thing. We are all losing our minds together. No one could remember the name of a person, place or thing.
Janice gave me an article which I will now quote about ageing: "If there is something to glean from this it is to stay active, to treat old age like a strong wind you face head on."
I loved it when Nora didn't want to go to the playground with Michael so she told him she was in time out. Michael, thinking this problem through, went to Julia and asked her if Nora could get out of time out. Julia, uninformed by Nora of her diabolical plan, released her much to Nora's chagrin and the laughter of the rest of us. Yes, Michael still calls me Uncle Jan.
Ode to Jane:
There is no such thing as an off duty Jane. She is a care giver to all. She is a nurse, a helper, and concerned for every one. While Jane is around no one will be cold, hungry, distressed, hurt, sick, sad or left out. She had her nurses' laser eye trained on the family and could tell in a wisp if someone needed assistance or was a fraction less then before. And there was a lot to watch, what with all of Jerry's ailing siblings: she watched Jean, Tal, Me. She watched Mark, the kids, the cousins up the hill. She could even sense if the dogs were a little off. Amazing. And she makes the best gravy in the family. Thank you Jane, we are lucky to have you.
Reunions are home.
Jean had a clean cabin for a while because she bunked it alone for a few nights, it might be the first time ever. It probably felt strange to have a cabin to herself after thirty odd years. I think she slept naked.
Cathy had to leave early and bequeathed her "sleep late" cabin to Julia and Tal with firm instructions to the girls to leave it clean. They did. Sorry you had to work Cathy.
Brittany had Dax, her new well behaved dog, and Lindsey her well behaved special friend.
Lindsey reads Shakespeare not Twilight. Silly me.
Chris had food and drinks for everyone. And a special jambalaya for one pot dinner night. Thank you Chris.
Janice had her bubble machine, her crossword puzzles, and welcomed Jan with a comfy nest and bed. Thank you Janice.
Art had Janice and Jan well taken care of. He kept an eye on the bubble machine, hauled the bags, food, totes, parcels and made sure I had safe light to return to the cabin by. He made sure the porch light was on and I had a flashlight to stumble to the bathroom with. Thanks Art.
Jerry had a swollen arm.
Jane had orphan Ellie all grown up and cuddly in Jerry or Jane's lap and snappish any other time. Maddie couldn't get near her at first, but she was persistent and finally won the orphan dog over.
Amber had two dogs, orphan Heidi and not so old but sluggish Maggie, three children, one husband and Ann-Lisette. Amber actually looked relaxed, now you tell me how she did that.
Mark said grace more than once and finally remembered to include t-shirts in his list of blessings. Yes Mark we are blessed once again with your truly lovely family t-shirt design, plus you and Amber do all the blooming work. Thank you. And you made the midnight coffee run with four different kinds of coffee. Well, not quite midnight, we are all getting older.
Taylor had a lot to say about movies, performances, TV episodes, and working. Not so much about ballet other than he will pass the class and graduate.
Ann-Lisette is always a picture of poise and grace. She had skittish Rudy laying by her side and her new hand work is coming along wonderfully. I'm not smart enough to know if it is knitting or crocheting.
Hannah had her drivers license so Amber made fewer trips up and down the hill. I lusted after her pink headband/hat thing.
Blaine has a mouth and knows how to use it. He beat me at every story, punch line, joke, pun, quip, and I thought oh poor poor Amber. However, Blaine did win a pass from me, a forgiveness pass for eight and a half years because he stood up in the big group and introduced himself. The boy is not shy.
Marc arrived with three children in tow, got his tent set up, and commenced to sit with the rest of us around the fire. The fire just isn't complete without him. He didn't bring his orphans Daisy and Dirk.
Clark has grown a foot, I'm not sure I would have recognized him if he wasn't with family. Instead of tall dark and handsome, he is tall blond and handsome.
Jordan never quit smiling and is a most kind cousin to all the little ones. Everyone loves her and she oozed love for everyone.
Jackson I saw swoosh by a time or two, but he is like the wind; can't be caught, tamed or bottled. I couldn't keep track of him. Was he fishing? Was he playing at the playground? Only the wind knows.
Jan made it there and back again, from beginning to end, with a smile on her face. Thanks to everyone who helped make it possible.
Julia made her morning walks/runs/woggles look like fun. She was usually the first for coffee either at Janice's or Jean's. The sibling coffee gathering was fantastic.
Tal cooked, read, fire sat, and didn't torment anyone too much. He looks good, his old ticker is still going strong. I know he walked up poop-out-hill more than once. Show off. You know his food was good at the lake, but I had a taste of his premium cooking in Arkansas. I feel sorry for anyone who hasn't tasted it. If you want a special meal from Mr. Tal Bowman just tell him you want squash. It worked for me, it might work for you.
Nora made the drive to Greenleaf twice, once to deliver me and once to deliver Andrew. How two siblings with only their personal belongings could have such a messy cabin is still a mystery to me. I mean it was strewn with stuff, mystery stuff. I did appreciate the taxi rides up the hill though. Thank you Nora for all the rides.
Andrew knows seventeen times more stuff about movies than I ever thought about. He also always supports his opinion with lots of resources. He missed his calling when he didn't become a lawyer, he would win every case. He also owes me a list of movies so I can catch up, well not exactly catch up more trail closer behind.
Jeff was the master of the main campfire and a master camp fire host. Thanks Jeff for the goodie box, the fire maintenance, the chair unfolding and folding, the napkins, hot dogs, mustard, hatchet, charcoal, charcoal starter, dutch oven, wind break, hot dog holders, fire cooking and wit. Jeff says next year he is only bringing a suitcase.
Summer brought special special Branson, was there ever a better baby in the world. He was precious to us all. Babies are family. Summer's peakiness finally dissipated with five days at the lake. You were looking much better by the end than the beginning Summer.
Jonathan was all heart. When he finally arrived we had to quit Branson holding for a while so Jonathan could get his fair share.
Michael entertained us all with his wit and intelligence. How can a six year old be so smart, oh right, he is Taylor bred.
Branson an angel, no more need be said. He ate, slept, cooed, burbled, hiccuped, smiled, and cuddled us all. Thanks Branson.
Kathy brought Izzy and Harvey, the wild dogs are growing up. She also gave a lesson in how to lose ice chests out of the back of a pick-up truck and if you happened to miss the first demonstration, she repeated it later that day. Sorry Kathy.
Mike fished and photographed when he wasn't walking the dogs, cooking, messing about with kiddos or simply messing about. Thank you for the fish fry, best fish fry I've had in thirty years or so. I never knew anyone who could actually catch fish.
Lynn didn't have her truck and was left stranded a time or two, next year she will have a vehicle.
Cara brought Ellie Mae the howling hound dog. She also carried on a tradition by writing a superb treasure hunt. It was so creative I was jealous. Something fuzzy, something that makes a noise, something beautiful. Michael looked at Kathy and said I'm looking at it right now. Awe!
GG came with Cara now that they are newly weds, but I didn't see much of him, nor did I get a fried baloney sandwich this year. What's up with that?
Avery smiled almost as much at Jordan and caught a fish. Way to go Avery, I think I ate it.
Madison wanted her books marked with her name so they didn't get mixed up with Avery's. She also persisted in befriending Ellie. I thought she would give up when Ellie snapped the fourth time, but not Maddy, she was fearless.
Reunions come and reunions go, an ordinary reunion. Remember the year of the bees, the years of the floods (twice) once when we kept moving to higher ground and once when all the tents came down. Remember the year of James' Army tent with a stove with a chimney and a spare bedroom for Ian and I. Yes, reunions come and reunions go but this one seemed perfect, or as close to perfect as it could get. A thousand points of light, I was going to say by president Regan but damn Tal was right it was president Bush Sr who said that. Thank you for saving me from an embarrassing snafu Tal.
This was the reunion of Branson, sunshine, lost ice chests, fish fry, books and movies, Chris' cooking, of nice people. Art, Janice and I went to Harps in Gore for a bit of grocery shopping, when Janice and Art went back to the store the next day the store lady said "You're back!" Janice explained she was back for milk and the store lady said well they are unloading the truck right now, tell me what you want and I will go get it for you. And she did. This was a special reunion.
Every one was particularly kind to me. I must be one of the older generation because all the youngens kept moving my chair, filling my plate, getting me water, helping helping helping. Thank you youngens.
Actually all of us siblings are getting older, none of us could remember a thing. We are all losing our minds together. No one could remember the name of a person, place or thing.
Janice gave me an article which I will now quote about ageing: "If there is something to glean from this it is to stay active, to treat old age like a strong wind you face head on."
I loved it when Nora didn't want to go to the playground with Michael so she told him she was in time out. Michael, thinking this problem through, went to Julia and asked her if Nora could get out of time out. Julia, uninformed by Nora of her diabolical plan, released her much to Nora's chagrin and the laughter of the rest of us. Yes, Michael still calls me Uncle Jan.
Ode to Jane:
There is no such thing as an off duty Jane. She is a care giver to all. She is a nurse, a helper, and concerned for every one. While Jane is around no one will be cold, hungry, distressed, hurt, sick, sad or left out. She had her nurses' laser eye trained on the family and could tell in a wisp if someone needed assistance or was a fraction less then before. And there was a lot to watch, what with all of Jerry's ailing siblings: she watched Jean, Tal, Me. She watched Mark, the kids, the cousins up the hill. She could even sense if the dogs were a little off. Amazing. And she makes the best gravy in the family. Thank you Jane, we are lucky to have you.
Reunions are home.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Gathering of the Tribes
It's ancient: the original social media; the gathering of tribes. Where are the good hunting grounds? What factions are fighting? Councils, negotiations, diplomacy, alliances, marriages arranged, like Hannah go marry so and so.
It's biblical: the show of faith, promised aid, protection, census.
It's indigenous: Festivals, celebrations, games, competitions, naming.
It's historical: Kings gathering their vassals, fealty, benevolent. Life liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Thirteen colonies banded together. Show of strength. Drawing up of boundaries, war zones, the granting of rewards.
Tribal time to renew and strengthen connections. The slow nomadic arrival from the four points of the compass, across the prairie, across the mountains, across the desert. An ancient seed we carry out and implement every October. We don't need to barter or trade anymore, but we could. Our tribal gathering.
The Daley Tribe, the Manning Tribe, the Carrillo tribe (of one.) The Taylor Tribes make their annual migration for fellowship, food, convivial conversation, light arguments, heavy banter, watching the kids, light, walkers, foliage, fire. We know our tribe and fit it so nicely.
Tribal: a place to belong, be loved, be understood or at least accepted. A core family magnet that keeps us from drifting too far to be lost.
I figure I've spent six percent of my life waiting. Waiting for kids to get out of school, church, the game, dance. Waiting for friends to arrive, the bell, the light, the ferry. Waiting is a soft pastime. Now I'm waiting for the gathering of the tribe. My mind is filled with pleasant anticipation.
With love, I will see you at the gathering.
It's biblical: the show of faith, promised aid, protection, census.
It's indigenous: Festivals, celebrations, games, competitions, naming.
It's historical: Kings gathering their vassals, fealty, benevolent. Life liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Thirteen colonies banded together. Show of strength. Drawing up of boundaries, war zones, the granting of rewards.
Tribal time to renew and strengthen connections. The slow nomadic arrival from the four points of the compass, across the prairie, across the mountains, across the desert. An ancient seed we carry out and implement every October. We don't need to barter or trade anymore, but we could. Our tribal gathering.
The Daley Tribe, the Manning Tribe, the Carrillo tribe (of one.) The Taylor Tribes make their annual migration for fellowship, food, convivial conversation, light arguments, heavy banter, watching the kids, light, walkers, foliage, fire. We know our tribe and fit it so nicely.
Tribal: a place to belong, be loved, be understood or at least accepted. A core family magnet that keeps us from drifting too far to be lost.
I figure I've spent six percent of my life waiting. Waiting for kids to get out of school, church, the game, dance. Waiting for friends to arrive, the bell, the light, the ferry. Waiting is a soft pastime. Now I'm waiting for the gathering of the tribe. My mind is filled with pleasant anticipation.
With love, I will see you at the gathering.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Cherished Day
I bought the groceries.
I built the lasagna.
Ian did everything else.
Christian fixed my phone.
Roger, Stephanie and Connor were late.
The bubbles I planned did not glow in the dark but Connor loved his glow sticks anyway. Instead of glow in the dark bubbles we had a glow stick "hunt." When he hid them for me he kept showing me where they were. Gotta love a three year old.
The tuxedo cake was fantastic, the most expensive I've ever bought, but that was okay, Ian shared the cost and the bread was Jimmy Johns day old submarine sandwich bread so it helped to off set the cost of the cake. Again fantastic.
Christian picked out all the mushrooms and zucchini but went back for seconds.
Bo liked the mushrooms and zucchini and ate Christian's.
My friend Carol says that's a couples thing.
Roger kept eating Connor's Trader Joe's mini chocolate chip cookies.
Bo was back from Korea -- with gifts. She said butterflies and dragons were easy to find, turtles not so much. However I now have two new turtles in my collection. She went to a soap making class but decided hers was ugly and bought me a bar instead, beautiful with a butterfly emblem. She said in Korea the butterfly is emblematic of feminine, chili peppers are masculine. Makes sense to me.
Christian was teaching Connor to say something and said, "That's okay, I'm already teaching one person to speak English I might as well teach two." This incensed Stephanie. Christian defended himself by saying, "Bo asked me to correct her English" to which Stephanie replied, "Yeah that's like a woman asking, 'Do I look fat in this dress?'" Gotta love Stephanie.
Connor wasn't eating lasagna so I took him to the refrigerator to pick out something to eat. He picked an egg and said first we have to crack it and then stir it. I said yes and then granny will cook it. "NO," he said, "IF YOU COOK IT WE WILL DIE." Hum not sure about that one. What has Stephanie told him about my cooking? Well this granny didn't want him to die so we microwaved it instead and he took the next two hours to eat it.
One of my gift boxes from Bo had this ornate Korean writing on it and I asked Bo what it said. She didn't know, then I turned the box over and saw it said Anne Dolly. I tell you ornate and upside down it looked foreign.
It was a beautiful evening.
They opened a vegetarian restaurant at University Village. I mentioned that regular restaurants have token veggie plates and wondered if a vegetarian restaurant would have a token hamburger -- damn -- they do. A kiddie burger, but red meat none the less.
Brittany is getting older, Jerry is getting younger or at least his heart has had a boost. Everyone Else's heart seems to be ticking along. Tal is retired. Reunion is nigh. Baby is coming. I've decided not to make yellow lentil Indian stew for the one pot meal. You can thank me later.
I have fourteen books started and none finished. I watched a very strange Turkish film, Once Upon a Time in Anatolia. If you have seen it tell me what was the point, the plot, the resolution.
The only whoop-dee-do in my life was five tour buses followed me off I-5 the other morning on my way to work. If they were going to Key Arena they should have got off at Mercer Street not Stewart Street. All I could see was these huge, black, glistening buses, so I asked at work who was coming to perform. Only Jan would be ignorant of the fact that Madonna was coming to town.
Roger is running his first 50k, Stephanie is ramping up for her 1/2 marathon in San Francisco -- girls only. Ian is traveling. Christian is smiling. Everyone is happy.
A cherished day. So perfect it made me cry.
I didn't know Marc was teaching that is one of the perils of living 2,000 miles away, but don't you worry in a few weeks I will catch up.
A cherished reunion is nigh.
How many days Brittany?
I built the lasagna.
Ian did everything else.
Christian fixed my phone.
Roger, Stephanie and Connor were late.
The bubbles I planned did not glow in the dark but Connor loved his glow sticks anyway. Instead of glow in the dark bubbles we had a glow stick "hunt." When he hid them for me he kept showing me where they were. Gotta love a three year old.
The tuxedo cake was fantastic, the most expensive I've ever bought, but that was okay, Ian shared the cost and the bread was Jimmy Johns day old submarine sandwich bread so it helped to off set the cost of the cake. Again fantastic.
Christian picked out all the mushrooms and zucchini but went back for seconds.
Bo liked the mushrooms and zucchini and ate Christian's.
My friend Carol says that's a couples thing.
Roger kept eating Connor's Trader Joe's mini chocolate chip cookies.
Bo was back from Korea -- with gifts. She said butterflies and dragons were easy to find, turtles not so much. However I now have two new turtles in my collection. She went to a soap making class but decided hers was ugly and bought me a bar instead, beautiful with a butterfly emblem. She said in Korea the butterfly is emblematic of feminine, chili peppers are masculine. Makes sense to me.
Christian was teaching Connor to say something and said, "That's okay, I'm already teaching one person to speak English I might as well teach two." This incensed Stephanie. Christian defended himself by saying, "Bo asked me to correct her English" to which Stephanie replied, "Yeah that's like a woman asking, 'Do I look fat in this dress?'" Gotta love Stephanie.
Connor wasn't eating lasagna so I took him to the refrigerator to pick out something to eat. He picked an egg and said first we have to crack it and then stir it. I said yes and then granny will cook it. "NO," he said, "IF YOU COOK IT WE WILL DIE." Hum not sure about that one. What has Stephanie told him about my cooking? Well this granny didn't want him to die so we microwaved it instead and he took the next two hours to eat it.
One of my gift boxes from Bo had this ornate Korean writing on it and I asked Bo what it said. She didn't know, then I turned the box over and saw it said Anne Dolly. I tell you ornate and upside down it looked foreign.
It was a beautiful evening.
They opened a vegetarian restaurant at University Village. I mentioned that regular restaurants have token veggie plates and wondered if a vegetarian restaurant would have a token hamburger -- damn -- they do. A kiddie burger, but red meat none the less.
Brittany is getting older, Jerry is getting younger or at least his heart has had a boost. Everyone Else's heart seems to be ticking along. Tal is retired. Reunion is nigh. Baby is coming. I've decided not to make yellow lentil Indian stew for the one pot meal. You can thank me later.
I have fourteen books started and none finished. I watched a very strange Turkish film, Once Upon a Time in Anatolia. If you have seen it tell me what was the point, the plot, the resolution.
The only whoop-dee-do in my life was five tour buses followed me off I-5 the other morning on my way to work. If they were going to Key Arena they should have got off at Mercer Street not Stewart Street. All I could see was these huge, black, glistening buses, so I asked at work who was coming to perform. Only Jan would be ignorant of the fact that Madonna was coming to town.
Roger is running his first 50k, Stephanie is ramping up for her 1/2 marathon in San Francisco -- girls only. Ian is traveling. Christian is smiling. Everyone is happy.
A cherished day. So perfect it made me cry.
I didn't know Marc was teaching that is one of the perils of living 2,000 miles away, but don't you worry in a few weeks I will catch up.
A cherished reunion is nigh.
How many days Brittany?
Friday, September 28, 2012
An Ordinary Life
A honey bee makes 1/2 teaspoon of honey in it's life time.
A hive flies 55,000 miles to produce 1 pound of honey.
Some jobs are harder than others.
Every thing works for a living.
Every animal has an ordinary life.
Birds, bees, Sycamore trees, and people keep blooming.
An ordinary Sun.
An ordinary day.
An ordinary blue sky.
An ordinary bed, bath. meal, and job.
Ordinary water, beaches, rocks, trees, mountains, and electricity.
One day at a time, one day at a time, and millions keep passing by.
Ordinary books.
Ordinary friends.
Ordinary blood pumping.
Ordinary deaths, ordinary grief when one of us dies.
So many ordinaries add up to brimming life.
An ordinary life looking back on sandy dusty hills, rose rocks, treks to the barn, egg gathering, a snake or two. We fed the cows, milked the cows, ate the cows. We washed the dishes, washed the clothes, washed the floors. What was that stuff we put on the floors to sweep with? That oily sawdust stuff to control the dust.
Ordinary puppies, piglets, calves, and goats.
Ordinary. Routine.
Ordinary mother and dad.
Reaching across time for that ordinary childhood.
Josephine with tousled hair contorted in amazing configurations on couches and chairs.
Jean at college with college friends.
Janice studying.
Jerry with his bow, arrows, and quiver at ease with John, Don, and Robby lumbering through.
Jeff unafraid of monster movies.
Julia dancing on roller skates, a show to dazzle and amuse parents.
James laughing at everybody.
Camping with watermelons cooling in the stream. Hot summer trips, sleeping under the stars on camp cots with buffalo snuffling. Mother cooking in cast iron pans over the fire.
Ordinary well water.
Ordinary tin tub for playing.
Ordinary clothes; some new, some home made, some Salvation Army.
Ordinary family.
Ordinary possibilities.
Ordinary wants but never hunger.
It's all here, all right now, all right with the world.
The Zen now.
Ordinary, routine, enlightened.
A hive flies 55,000 miles to produce 1 pound of honey.
Some jobs are harder than others.
Every thing works for a living.
Every animal has an ordinary life.
Birds, bees, Sycamore trees, and people keep blooming.
An ordinary Sun.
An ordinary day.
An ordinary blue sky.
An ordinary bed, bath. meal, and job.
Ordinary water, beaches, rocks, trees, mountains, and electricity.
One day at a time, one day at a time, and millions keep passing by.
Ordinary books.
Ordinary friends.
Ordinary blood pumping.
Ordinary deaths, ordinary grief when one of us dies.
So many ordinaries add up to brimming life.
An ordinary life looking back on sandy dusty hills, rose rocks, treks to the barn, egg gathering, a snake or two. We fed the cows, milked the cows, ate the cows. We washed the dishes, washed the clothes, washed the floors. What was that stuff we put on the floors to sweep with? That oily sawdust stuff to control the dust.
Ordinary puppies, piglets, calves, and goats.
Ordinary. Routine.
Ordinary mother and dad.
Reaching across time for that ordinary childhood.
Josephine with tousled hair contorted in amazing configurations on couches and chairs.
Jean at college with college friends.
Janice studying.
Jerry with his bow, arrows, and quiver at ease with John, Don, and Robby lumbering through.
Jeff unafraid of monster movies.
Julia dancing on roller skates, a show to dazzle and amuse parents.
James laughing at everybody.
Camping with watermelons cooling in the stream. Hot summer trips, sleeping under the stars on camp cots with buffalo snuffling. Mother cooking in cast iron pans over the fire.
Ordinary well water.
Ordinary tin tub for playing.
Ordinary clothes; some new, some home made, some Salvation Army.
Ordinary family.
Ordinary possibilities.
Ordinary wants but never hunger.
It's all here, all right now, all right with the world.
The Zen now.
Ordinary, routine, enlightened.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Amazing Animals
I've seen two amazing animals in beautiful downtown Seattle lately:
Tuesday, as I was on my smoke break at the back door of the office tower where I work, at the back of beyond back door where you are hidden from sight if you are smoking, at the entrance to the underground parking garage back door, anyway, I was admiring the concrete retaining wall lining the drive to the aforementioned underground parking. This wall starts at about four feet tall and gradually becomes taller as the drive descends -- except -- for this hiccup where the wall might be two inches shorter. At the top of the this wall and beyond, between the building and the I-5 corridor, is a "V" shape of land full of lush Pacific Northwest vegetation. I can also watch the planes descending towards SeaTac, lots of planes, but that's neither here nor there. The I-5 corridor has no part in this story either I'm just trying to orient you to the full picture, but for now disregard I-5 and concentrate on the space. So here is a level retaining wall gradually getting steeper due to the drive way going down, when here comes a silly squirrel scampering down the drive looking lovingly up at the vegetation four feet above him, of course it might be a her, but for now I'm going with him. It seemed as though he couldn't figure out how to get at the plants. I'm thinking poor squirrel, silly dumb animal he can't get to the bushes from here -- except -- he goes to the exact spot where the wall is barely two inches shorter (remember I said there was a hiccup in the drive where the wall was shorter) this squirrel goes to that exact spot and hops up with the ease of a bubble and disappears into the plants.
At first I was amazed at how smart he was, but on reflection I decided if your life depended on leaping from branch to branch you too would be hard-wired in gaging two inch differences.
Life is always educational -- AND -- entertaining.
But, I saw two amazing animals so now I will tell you about the other one:
Early one quiet Sunday morning as I was on my smoke break, since it was Sunday and no pedestrians around at six-ish in the morning I was brazenly smoking in the front of the building, I was looking down the way at nothing in particular when I saw a strange, strange black animal scurry across the street and slither up the block as close to the buildings as it could get. Two restaurants sit on that block and I had a perfect view as this strange animal crawled up the street slowly and methodically. I was stymied as to what kind of animal it was. It was too big to be a rodent, it was too flattened to be a cat or dog. I've never seen a badger except on T.V., but the way it scurried I thought that reminds me of a badger and asked myself have badgers been urbanized like coyotes and such. Fascinated I watched as the animal came up alongside the buildings, hesitate at the corner and then continue to scurry across the street all the time getting closer and closer. It scurried down a driveway of a building across the street then scurried back out, all the time black and flattened, all the time getting closer -- UNTIL -- the wind picked it up and blew my fascinating animal away.
Black plastic bags can be so tricky.
The moral of the animal stories? There isn't one except even the plastic bag kind can fool me. Does that make me dumber than a plastic bag or just blind?
I was reminded of the time I was observing prairie dogs for a biology assignment in college and my prairie dog flew away in the shape of a bird. Tricky prairie dogs.
I'm glad I will soon be at Greenleaf and viewing real animals -- the four and the two legged kind.
It took me seven tries to get my airplane ticket bought. I was sure I was going to screw up somehow and was trying NOT to call Jean to do it for me. I'm a big girl, I'm smart, I can do this. Well, we will see if I make it to Greenleaf and back home again.
Today is one of those special three son's days. Ian and I will drive to Ballard so Christian can tell someone to change his oil. Then today being Thursday playdate with The Connorman I will see Roger. I haven't seen Stephanie for the last two weeks because she has been working late on some big project. New IPhones anyone?
The last two morning have been deliciously foggy, all the way to my back window.
Hey Amber, I have enjoyed your quotes on Facebook. I'm going to bring you some quote books I have retired. And a book for Jean. And a book for you too Jeff.
Make someone happy today, we are all amazing animals.
Well, some more amazing than others.
Tuesday, as I was on my smoke break at the back door of the office tower where I work, at the back of beyond back door where you are hidden from sight if you are smoking, at the entrance to the underground parking garage back door, anyway, I was admiring the concrete retaining wall lining the drive to the aforementioned underground parking. This wall starts at about four feet tall and gradually becomes taller as the drive descends -- except -- for this hiccup where the wall might be two inches shorter. At the top of the this wall and beyond, between the building and the I-5 corridor, is a "V" shape of land full of lush Pacific Northwest vegetation. I can also watch the planes descending towards SeaTac, lots of planes, but that's neither here nor there. The I-5 corridor has no part in this story either I'm just trying to orient you to the full picture, but for now disregard I-5 and concentrate on the space. So here is a level retaining wall gradually getting steeper due to the drive way going down, when here comes a silly squirrel scampering down the drive looking lovingly up at the vegetation four feet above him, of course it might be a her, but for now I'm going with him. It seemed as though he couldn't figure out how to get at the plants. I'm thinking poor squirrel, silly dumb animal he can't get to the bushes from here -- except -- he goes to the exact spot where the wall is barely two inches shorter (remember I said there was a hiccup in the drive where the wall was shorter) this squirrel goes to that exact spot and hops up with the ease of a bubble and disappears into the plants.
At first I was amazed at how smart he was, but on reflection I decided if your life depended on leaping from branch to branch you too would be hard-wired in gaging two inch differences.
Life is always educational -- AND -- entertaining.
But, I saw two amazing animals so now I will tell you about the other one:
Early one quiet Sunday morning as I was on my smoke break, since it was Sunday and no pedestrians around at six-ish in the morning I was brazenly smoking in the front of the building, I was looking down the way at nothing in particular when I saw a strange, strange black animal scurry across the street and slither up the block as close to the buildings as it could get. Two restaurants sit on that block and I had a perfect view as this strange animal crawled up the street slowly and methodically. I was stymied as to what kind of animal it was. It was too big to be a rodent, it was too flattened to be a cat or dog. I've never seen a badger except on T.V., but the way it scurried I thought that reminds me of a badger and asked myself have badgers been urbanized like coyotes and such. Fascinated I watched as the animal came up alongside the buildings, hesitate at the corner and then continue to scurry across the street all the time getting closer and closer. It scurried down a driveway of a building across the street then scurried back out, all the time black and flattened, all the time getting closer -- UNTIL -- the wind picked it up and blew my fascinating animal away.
Black plastic bags can be so tricky.
The moral of the animal stories? There isn't one except even the plastic bag kind can fool me. Does that make me dumber than a plastic bag or just blind?
I was reminded of the time I was observing prairie dogs for a biology assignment in college and my prairie dog flew away in the shape of a bird. Tricky prairie dogs.
I'm glad I will soon be at Greenleaf and viewing real animals -- the four and the two legged kind.
It took me seven tries to get my airplane ticket bought. I was sure I was going to screw up somehow and was trying NOT to call Jean to do it for me. I'm a big girl, I'm smart, I can do this. Well, we will see if I make it to Greenleaf and back home again.
Today is one of those special three son's days. Ian and I will drive to Ballard so Christian can tell someone to change his oil. Then today being Thursday playdate with The Connorman I will see Roger. I haven't seen Stephanie for the last two weeks because she has been working late on some big project. New IPhones anyone?
The last two morning have been deliciously foggy, all the way to my back window.
Hey Amber, I have enjoyed your quotes on Facebook. I'm going to bring you some quote books I have retired. And a book for Jean. And a book for you too Jeff.
Make someone happy today, we are all amazing animals.
Well, some more amazing than others.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Long Lost Friends
My friend Lynn was contacted by an old high school friend. Someone remembering, nostalgically perhaps, perhaps about her youth, and wanted to connect. Some people never leave those youthful connections behind. They remain connected for years, from childhood to adulthood into imminent old age. I was struck by the coincident of both Lynn and I having long lost acquaintances reach out; Ray McLain to me and Lynn's friend who gave her a mouse on her sixteenth birthday.
Roger had a friend find him after years of disconnect. They discussed the fact that if they were five years younger they never would have lost touch in the first place due to Facebook, email, the Internet, social networking. I imagine staying put in one location helps like my friend Carol or brother Jerry.
What really got me wondering was the fact of reaching out. Ray said he got involved in reaching back through time by helping with the Northeast High School reunions. I guess that would get you thinking "I wonder what happened to so and so."
I'm fascinated by these childhood acquaintance's contacts. Are we at an age where reaching out for something, I don't know, lost maybe, is surfacing? Are people at a quieter time in their life and feeling something pull them backwards, something unfinished? I never went on the Internet to find old acquaintances, friends, lovers, long lost people.
Or are they just curious by nature. More curious than me. I don't feel the urge. I have no lost friends I'm searching for. As I passed through life it always felt done with, nothing left undone. Or maybe I brought it along with me on my back, like the proverbial turtle I claim to be. What is wrong with me that I don't feel a need or a desire. Did I flash though life too quick -- San Diego one day, New York the next. There is a dichotomie not answered; too quick or too slow.
I don't feel the urge but am enjoying the connections, old friends I do happen upon accidentally thrills me beyond belief. So what is the connection? Still wondering.
A final five-cent analysis; I don't think it is a deep mystery, but instead a personality type, genetic of course, some people do, some people don't. Some people jump off of cliffs, some people shuffle along on the sidewalk.
Speaking of shuffling, our families resident shuffler, a certain Mr Tal Bowman who shall remain nameless, has told me I can't die. That seemed unreasonable to me, and just a tad selfish. If his ticker can give out or explode at any moment well then so can mine.
Sometimes I would rather fail spectacularly than succeed incrementally. Dichotomies number two; too fast or too slow? All my greatest successes were when I slowed down and did it right. I'm not a risk taker, I don't put it all on one throw of the dice. I'm actually quite conservative in that area. I plan and ponder and make lists, but I will hit some kind of wall and say that's it I'm done. I can't guess what that makes me.
Here is a dainty tidbit. Guess when Ian's next trip to Florida is? You guessed it, right in the middle of my Greenleaf trip. Guess who won't be here to give him a ride to and from the airport. Truly this is getting embarrassing. He swears he has it covered. He will take me to the airport and he has a ride home. Son's a special kind of love.
Here's to long lost friends.
Friends; love of another sort.
Roger had a friend find him after years of disconnect. They discussed the fact that if they were five years younger they never would have lost touch in the first place due to Facebook, email, the Internet, social networking. I imagine staying put in one location helps like my friend Carol or brother Jerry.
What really got me wondering was the fact of reaching out. Ray said he got involved in reaching back through time by helping with the Northeast High School reunions. I guess that would get you thinking "I wonder what happened to so and so."
I'm fascinated by these childhood acquaintance's contacts. Are we at an age where reaching out for something, I don't know, lost maybe, is surfacing? Are people at a quieter time in their life and feeling something pull them backwards, something unfinished? I never went on the Internet to find old acquaintances, friends, lovers, long lost people.
Or are they just curious by nature. More curious than me. I don't feel the urge. I have no lost friends I'm searching for. As I passed through life it always felt done with, nothing left undone. Or maybe I brought it along with me on my back, like the proverbial turtle I claim to be. What is wrong with me that I don't feel a need or a desire. Did I flash though life too quick -- San Diego one day, New York the next. There is a dichotomie not answered; too quick or too slow.
I don't feel the urge but am enjoying the connections, old friends I do happen upon accidentally thrills me beyond belief. So what is the connection? Still wondering.
A final five-cent analysis; I don't think it is a deep mystery, but instead a personality type, genetic of course, some people do, some people don't. Some people jump off of cliffs, some people shuffle along on the sidewalk.
Speaking of shuffling, our families resident shuffler, a certain Mr Tal Bowman who shall remain nameless, has told me I can't die. That seemed unreasonable to me, and just a tad selfish. If his ticker can give out or explode at any moment well then so can mine.
Sometimes I would rather fail spectacularly than succeed incrementally. Dichotomies number two; too fast or too slow? All my greatest successes were when I slowed down and did it right. I'm not a risk taker, I don't put it all on one throw of the dice. I'm actually quite conservative in that area. I plan and ponder and make lists, but I will hit some kind of wall and say that's it I'm done. I can't guess what that makes me.
Here is a dainty tidbit. Guess when Ian's next trip to Florida is? You guessed it, right in the middle of my Greenleaf trip. Guess who won't be here to give him a ride to and from the airport. Truly this is getting embarrassing. He swears he has it covered. He will take me to the airport and he has a ride home. Son's a special kind of love.
Here's to long lost friends.
Friends; love of another sort.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Pet Peeves and Passion
I've been sick, I've been happy, I've been depressed, I've been disgruntled, I've been burnt-out, I've been ecstatic, joyful, lonely, entertained, and just about any and all other emotions available. Yep, it's been a busy month.
I OD'd on emotional candy with the pictures of Connor Roger posted on Facebook. Who knew a photograph of a little boys backside could produce such a powerful reaction. Who knew your heart could melt with a few digital pixels. Positively ecstatic.
I've been disgruntled by disgruntled people. It seemed like the last month has brought on a storm of people just under the "it's okay" bar. It seemed like no one was happy about anything, not haircuts, schedules, cookie quality, parking spaces or spouses.
I've discovered I have a pet peeve: People who don't bring their mothers to work. If they don't want to clean up after themselves the least they could do is bring their mothers to do it for them.
I've been hugging the home boundaries. Since no family came to visit The Inn at Mukilteo I took a few days off, just because, and didn't do one single productive thing, it made me happy -- although family would have been better. I think I spent three days in my tee shirt and underwear. Oops maybe too much information.
I'm having fun looking forward to Greenleaf. And some fast food you can't find West of the Cascade Mountains, Sonic, Schloztskys here I come. And I'm looking forward to family fun and fellowship, absolutely.
I've been entertained by my friend Lynn's photographs on her blog, all the Facebook posts from Southend and points west, Judy's sparkly shoes, kids going back to school, my friend Carol's condo buying adventures, Ian's baby gift tutu making adventures, Roger and Stephanie's travels, Lynn's travels, and Christian missing Bo. Sweet.
The near death pain from my degenerative disc: cervical flare up is finally under control. Now I know, for sure, what a pain in the neck really means. Is this where I apologize. The real trouble is you can't remove your neck, you can't keep from ageing, and sometimes there isn't enough pain killer in the world to make the pain go away. The doctor has promised anti-inflammatory medicine and I'll keep Christian and his marijuana stash as plan B.
I'm a wee bit burnt-out trying to take work seriously, by right and left politics, Chick Fil A politics, presidential politics, any and all politics.
Lynn and I made a pilgrimage to La Connor to the Calico Cupboard for breakfast and I feasted on the second best bran muffins in the world. I've had their bran muffins at their other locations in Anacortes and Mt Vernon -- they never disappoint. Is this a political view?
I've had fun writing birthday limericks. It started by accident with Jean and Jeff. I'm going to try to keep it going for a year. Whoo Boy!
I have a new neon pink bra -- oops too much information again, new glasses, new hair cut, new pedi, see life isn't all junk. I've given away another 100 books. I had a good birthday month. Lots of treats and attention.
Roger carries gel-packs for his training runs, rides, jogs and such which Connor is not allowed. So, I found some pureed fruit in packaging that looks just like a gel-pack and took him some. When his Momma came home she was reading the package and said, out loud, "Fruit Pal" Connor grabbed the package, and pretending to read it, said "It doesn't say 'Fruit Pal' it says 'NOT Fruit Pal.'" So now you know. He has his very own big boy gel-packs.
The junk in my life is okay because it is interspersed with so much good. You know the old adage about you have to kiss a few frogs to find a prince, well I've been kissing frogs lately. Reading a lot of average books to find the gem. Watching a lot of average, well average to bad movies, to find the treasures.
And isn't all the junk a part of life, potato peelings are part of my world. Where did I read about the peaks and valleys, valleys aren't a bad place to be. Life isn't all ecstasy and adventure like fine crystal that begins as lowly sand, is forged in fire and then polished to brilliance. Life is also about naps.
Is their anything much more satisfying then a good nap.
Oh, and I won another pair of shoes.
I OD'd on emotional candy with the pictures of Connor Roger posted on Facebook. Who knew a photograph of a little boys backside could produce such a powerful reaction. Who knew your heart could melt with a few digital pixels. Positively ecstatic.
I've been disgruntled by disgruntled people. It seemed like the last month has brought on a storm of people just under the "it's okay" bar. It seemed like no one was happy about anything, not haircuts, schedules, cookie quality, parking spaces or spouses.
I've discovered I have a pet peeve: People who don't bring their mothers to work. If they don't want to clean up after themselves the least they could do is bring their mothers to do it for them.
I've been hugging the home boundaries. Since no family came to visit The Inn at Mukilteo I took a few days off, just because, and didn't do one single productive thing, it made me happy -- although family would have been better. I think I spent three days in my tee shirt and underwear. Oops maybe too much information.
I'm having fun looking forward to Greenleaf. And some fast food you can't find West of the Cascade Mountains, Sonic, Schloztskys here I come. And I'm looking forward to family fun and fellowship, absolutely.
I've been entertained by my friend Lynn's photographs on her blog, all the Facebook posts from Southend and points west, Judy's sparkly shoes, kids going back to school, my friend Carol's condo buying adventures, Ian's baby gift tutu making adventures, Roger and Stephanie's travels, Lynn's travels, and Christian missing Bo. Sweet.
The near death pain from my degenerative disc: cervical flare up is finally under control. Now I know, for sure, what a pain in the neck really means. Is this where I apologize. The real trouble is you can't remove your neck, you can't keep from ageing, and sometimes there isn't enough pain killer in the world to make the pain go away. The doctor has promised anti-inflammatory medicine and I'll keep Christian and his marijuana stash as plan B.
I'm a wee bit burnt-out trying to take work seriously, by right and left politics, Chick Fil A politics, presidential politics, any and all politics.
Lynn and I made a pilgrimage to La Connor to the Calico Cupboard for breakfast and I feasted on the second best bran muffins in the world. I've had their bran muffins at their other locations in Anacortes and Mt Vernon -- they never disappoint. Is this a political view?
I've had fun writing birthday limericks. It started by accident with Jean and Jeff. I'm going to try to keep it going for a year. Whoo Boy!
I have a new neon pink bra -- oops too much information again, new glasses, new hair cut, new pedi, see life isn't all junk. I've given away another 100 books. I had a good birthday month. Lots of treats and attention.
Roger carries gel-packs for his training runs, rides, jogs and such which Connor is not allowed. So, I found some pureed fruit in packaging that looks just like a gel-pack and took him some. When his Momma came home she was reading the package and said, out loud, "Fruit Pal" Connor grabbed the package, and pretending to read it, said "It doesn't say 'Fruit Pal' it says 'NOT Fruit Pal.'" So now you know. He has his very own big boy gel-packs.
The junk in my life is okay because it is interspersed with so much good. You know the old adage about you have to kiss a few frogs to find a prince, well I've been kissing frogs lately. Reading a lot of average books to find the gem. Watching a lot of average, well average to bad movies, to find the treasures.
And isn't all the junk a part of life, potato peelings are part of my world. Where did I read about the peaks and valleys, valleys aren't a bad place to be. Life isn't all ecstasy and adventure like fine crystal that begins as lowly sand, is forged in fire and then polished to brilliance. Life is also about naps.
Is their anything much more satisfying then a good nap.
Oh, and I won another pair of shoes.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Friday, August 31, 2012
Greenleaf Teaser
PACK UP THE BABIES AND GRAB THE OLD LADIES
The Annual Taylor Family Reunion is going to happen.
Mark will design a tee-shirt
The menu is made
Jeff will bring a goodie box
and wit
Summer will rock babies
Mike will fish
Julia will walk
Amber will scoot up and down the hill
at least seven, no ten times a day
Nora will bring Andrew
Andrew will bring books
Taylor will bring Ann-Lisette
Janice will bring her bubble machine
Kathy will have a command post
Art will take it all in
Hannah will bring a drivers license
Blaine will bring a learners permit
Watch out Greenleaf
Listen for crashes or splashes
Cathy will drive to town
Brittany will bring a friend
Marc will bring kids
Kids: Clark and Jordan and Jackson
will bring telephones and games and secrets
Jerry will haul stuff
Lynn will imbibe a brew
Jonathan will entertain the kids
The kids will play
Maddy, Avery, Michael
Tal will accept sympathy and care
we will see if he takes a walk
Cara will love on everyone
GG don't know yet
Jane will tend to any and all
aches, pains, blisters, splinters, cuts, bruises and sprains
Chris might drive down
Jan will get a ride and a bed and a chair
Jean will matriarch, I mean cook
Missing family members will be missed
When you are blue get up and do. I read that recently.
Meet you at Greenleaf soon for The Taylor Family Do.
The Annual Taylor Family Reunion is going to happen.
Mark will design a tee-shirt
The menu is made
Jeff will bring a goodie box
and wit
Summer will rock babies
Mike will fish
Julia will walk
Amber will scoot up and down the hill
at least seven, no ten times a day
Nora will bring Andrew
Andrew will bring books
Taylor will bring Ann-Lisette
Janice will bring her bubble machine
Kathy will have a command post
Art will take it all in
Hannah will bring a drivers license
Blaine will bring a learners permit
Watch out Greenleaf
Listen for crashes or splashes
Cathy will drive to town
Brittany will bring a friend
Marc will bring kids
Kids: Clark and Jordan and Jackson
will bring telephones and games and secrets
Jerry will haul stuff
Lynn will imbibe a brew
Jonathan will entertain the kids
The kids will play
Maddy, Avery, Michael
Tal will accept sympathy and care
we will see if he takes a walk
Cara will love on everyone
GG don't know yet
Jane will tend to any and all
aches, pains, blisters, splinters, cuts, bruises and sprains
Chris might drive down
Jan will get a ride and a bed and a chair
Jean will matriarch, I mean cook
Missing family members will be missed
When you are blue get up and do. I read that recently.
Meet you at Greenleaf soon for The Taylor Family Do.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Families
Families:
The young Carrillo clan went to Stephanie's family reunion in Colorado and had a ball four wheeling and razoring (what ever that is) eating and sleeping, camping and climbing. Roger and Stephanie have now bought a pop-up camper that Connor is the proud owner of. He knows which clip to loosen and where the chocks go and how to crank up and down and which bar goes where. He is ready to fill it with water and plug it in if only a daddy would back off a little bit and let a guy do his work.
The young Carrillo clan are getting ready for the annual boat trip to Canada with the Fortener clan.
My friend Mary came back from her family reunion at Flathead lake in Montana and she had a ball swimming and playing with the grandkids, joining the folks scarfing up food that was laid out by various family members, and taking a grand boat tour of the lake.
My friend Carol is getting ready for her family camping trip at Blue Lake here in Washington and she always has a ball. Just ask her and she will tell you. A tradition of many years with memories of rain, heat, wind, fish caught and not caught, sound familiar?
Christian's girl, Bo, is visiting her family in Korea. Haven't got word back on the "ball" bit but I know she was traveling to an island for a wedding and has spent some time in a rural area where she and Christian were out of electronic communication for a bit.
Claire already has her reservations for a Christmas trip to Minnesota. Again family, food, visits and laughter.
There is the world famous Taylor Family Reunion looming on the horizon for those who think of such things.
Ian's friends babies have all turned one year old, so he has gone on a round of family birthday parties lately.
Babies growing is the surest part of families.
I've had son's dinners, another birthday, new bra's, new glasses, a few days off from work, some babysitting duties while Connor's daycare center was closed for it's week of vacation, computer problems, transmission problems, I had to drive into Seattle for an hours worth of mandatory training on my day off. I read a great book about a tough childhood. I used to think mine was tough till I read this book -- read it -- The Glass Castle. Another good book was Broken for You which was set in Seattle. That is always fun. The book was not quite true but wonderful somehow. No great movies lately.
Families: Roger was going to get me a handy man for my birthday, Christian sent me to his transmission man, Ian does many domestic duties. It takes a village to keep mom going.
Thank heaven for families.
The young Carrillo clan went to Stephanie's family reunion in Colorado and had a ball four wheeling and razoring (what ever that is) eating and sleeping, camping and climbing. Roger and Stephanie have now bought a pop-up camper that Connor is the proud owner of. He knows which clip to loosen and where the chocks go and how to crank up and down and which bar goes where. He is ready to fill it with water and plug it in if only a daddy would back off a little bit and let a guy do his work.
The young Carrillo clan are getting ready for the annual boat trip to Canada with the Fortener clan.
My friend Mary came back from her family reunion at Flathead lake in Montana and she had a ball swimming and playing with the grandkids, joining the folks scarfing up food that was laid out by various family members, and taking a grand boat tour of the lake.
My friend Carol is getting ready for her family camping trip at Blue Lake here in Washington and she always has a ball. Just ask her and she will tell you. A tradition of many years with memories of rain, heat, wind, fish caught and not caught, sound familiar?
Christian's girl, Bo, is visiting her family in Korea. Haven't got word back on the "ball" bit but I know she was traveling to an island for a wedding and has spent some time in a rural area where she and Christian were out of electronic communication for a bit.
Claire already has her reservations for a Christmas trip to Minnesota. Again family, food, visits and laughter.
There is the world famous Taylor Family Reunion looming on the horizon for those who think of such things.
Ian's friends babies have all turned one year old, so he has gone on a round of family birthday parties lately.
Babies growing is the surest part of families.
I've had son's dinners, another birthday, new bra's, new glasses, a few days off from work, some babysitting duties while Connor's daycare center was closed for it's week of vacation, computer problems, transmission problems, I had to drive into Seattle for an hours worth of mandatory training on my day off. I read a great book about a tough childhood. I used to think mine was tough till I read this book -- read it -- The Glass Castle. Another good book was Broken for You which was set in Seattle. That is always fun. The book was not quite true but wonderful somehow. No great movies lately.
Families: Roger was going to get me a handy man for my birthday, Christian sent me to his transmission man, Ian does many domestic duties. It takes a village to keep mom going.
Thank heaven for families.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
For Jane, oh hell it's for everyone
Jane, thank you for the dancing email: this one is for you...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pwe-pA6TaZk&feature=relmfu
and this one:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GBaHPND2QJg
and this one:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xNXTh4A4uS0
That's all for now folks.
Two of these came from Ray McLain and one from the movie Sidewalls.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pwe-pA6TaZk&feature=relmfu
and this one:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GBaHPND2QJg
and this one:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xNXTh4A4uS0
That's all for now folks.
Two of these came from Ray McLain and one from the movie Sidewalls.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Sunshine and Flower Sack Dresses
Sunshine; the growing up as kids kind of sunshine. More ferocious. Hours on a red dirt hill blistering your feet kind of sunshine. Sunshine oozing through the flower sack dresses mother used to make for us. Sometimes she would let me pick the 50 pound flour sack with a floral patten that I liked and it would become my romper after mom had completed baking all those pies, cakes, cookies, and bread we grew up with.
Growing up poor. Coming in the front door after school if there wasn't any pie, cake or cookies waiting for us we would just peel a potato, salt it and head out the back door into the fierce Oklahoma sunshine. Off we would go to an abundance of youthful treasures; food to eat, acres to roam, and lots of red dirt hills, red dirt roads, red rock sandstone, tree houses, canyons and bugs, all complimented by dusty back steps and deep well water.
Bugs and such came with Oklahoma sunshine like mud after a rain; June bugs, fireflys, mosquitoes, hornets, wasps, tarantulas, scorpions and eight inch centipedes -- the ugly kind with shiny black bodies and neon yellow legs -- dropping off of door frames or crawling out of rocks. I hope they are still thriving somewhere but I'm glad I don't have to face them anymore.
Mother didn't have much of a green thumb, but she always had zinnias. She would plant the seeds and the Oklahoma sunshine would do the rest. A garden of jewel toned colorful zinnias as hardy as the red dirt they grew in and all of us red dirt children. Tough climate, tough flower, tough kids growing up somehow, surviving somehow. Surviving bar ditches, Johnson grass, crawdad hunting, summer roaming; thriving somehow.
It is strange to imagine that old intense heat of distant summers waking up to the Puget Sound fog hugging my back windows so thick I can't see the school just across the way.
Summer heat, summer play, summer dresses, summer sunshine, summer bugs. Waking up hot, playing hot, and going to sleep hot. Drifting off to sleep absentmindedly scratching the chigger bites on your ankle during those long ago summer nights.
Hey Tal, how are you feeling? Are you out shuffling along yet? It you walk to the end of your townhouses I'll walk to the end of my condos. If you make the loop to Jeff's and back I'll make the loop around here. It will do us both good, but it is still yucky.
Here is a story: Roger never remembered my birthday before he got married, after he got married he never forgot my birthday, so the joke was always marriage worked wonders for the memory. Well, Christian called me up the other day to ask me out to dinner -- huh -- you heard me right. Christian called me up and asked me out to dinner. He wanted me to join him and Bo at a Korean Barbecue restaurant. I thought Bo would be a new favorite, but after I spilled about a quart of salad dressing all down my front and apologized to Bo for being such a mess, she informed me that elders can do no wrong. If an elder does it it is right. So now I have moved past the favorite part and catapulted right straight to being in love.
In spite of the fog the last couple of mornings we have had sunshine for seven days in a row with more to come. It's summer here in the Pacific Northwest and I am in love.
I asked Ian for a word to write a blog about and he said sunshine. You see sunshine is on our minds here in the PNW. Thank you Ian for the inspiration. I love you too, more than sunshine.
Keep the sunshine in your life one way or another.
Growing up poor. Coming in the front door after school if there wasn't any pie, cake or cookies waiting for us we would just peel a potato, salt it and head out the back door into the fierce Oklahoma sunshine. Off we would go to an abundance of youthful treasures; food to eat, acres to roam, and lots of red dirt hills, red dirt roads, red rock sandstone, tree houses, canyons and bugs, all complimented by dusty back steps and deep well water.
Bugs and such came with Oklahoma sunshine like mud after a rain; June bugs, fireflys, mosquitoes, hornets, wasps, tarantulas, scorpions and eight inch centipedes -- the ugly kind with shiny black bodies and neon yellow legs -- dropping off of door frames or crawling out of rocks. I hope they are still thriving somewhere but I'm glad I don't have to face them anymore.
Mother didn't have much of a green thumb, but she always had zinnias. She would plant the seeds and the Oklahoma sunshine would do the rest. A garden of jewel toned colorful zinnias as hardy as the red dirt they grew in and all of us red dirt children. Tough climate, tough flower, tough kids growing up somehow, surviving somehow. Surviving bar ditches, Johnson grass, crawdad hunting, summer roaming; thriving somehow.
It is strange to imagine that old intense heat of distant summers waking up to the Puget Sound fog hugging my back windows so thick I can't see the school just across the way.
Summer heat, summer play, summer dresses, summer sunshine, summer bugs. Waking up hot, playing hot, and going to sleep hot. Drifting off to sleep absentmindedly scratching the chigger bites on your ankle during those long ago summer nights.
Hey Tal, how are you feeling? Are you out shuffling along yet? It you walk to the end of your townhouses I'll walk to the end of my condos. If you make the loop to Jeff's and back I'll make the loop around here. It will do us both good, but it is still yucky.
Here is a story: Roger never remembered my birthday before he got married, after he got married he never forgot my birthday, so the joke was always marriage worked wonders for the memory. Well, Christian called me up the other day to ask me out to dinner -- huh -- you heard me right. Christian called me up and asked me out to dinner. He wanted me to join him and Bo at a Korean Barbecue restaurant. I thought Bo would be a new favorite, but after I spilled about a quart of salad dressing all down my front and apologized to Bo for being such a mess, she informed me that elders can do no wrong. If an elder does it it is right. So now I have moved past the favorite part and catapulted right straight to being in love.
In spite of the fog the last couple of mornings we have had sunshine for seven days in a row with more to come. It's summer here in the Pacific Northwest and I am in love.
I asked Ian for a word to write a blog about and he said sunshine. You see sunshine is on our minds here in the PNW. Thank you Ian for the inspiration. I love you too, more than sunshine.
Keep the sunshine in your life one way or another.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Ode To Tal
His brow is bloodied but unbowed...
Some things Tal needs:
Good diagnosis
Good doctors
Good pills
Good nurses
Good hospitals
Room service
Medical machinery in good working condition
Good wife
Good bed
A comfy chair
Good books
Soft slippers
Warm hands
Recovery time
Some might suggust good weed
A miracle if called for
and
Lots of love and affection
We love you like a brother Tal
Love
Some things Tal needs:
Good diagnosis
Good doctors
Good pills
Good nurses
Good hospitals
Room service
Medical machinery in good working condition
Good wife
Good bed
A comfy chair
Good books
Soft slippers
Warm hands
Recovery time
Some might suggust good weed
A miracle if called for
and
Lots of love and affection
We love you like a brother Tal
Love
Cultural Shock
It is cultural shock entering the ranks of senior citizenry -- trying to become a native. Comparing notes with other recent immigrants. I'm talking about it with friends, family, and colleagues. I'm not over the WOW factor of growing older, I'm continually amazed at this brave new world. I never dreamed I'd visit this land of ancient arts, limited vistas, excursions to new sights, and magic.
We recent emigres' love the next generation and respect the fact of them making their own realities as we made ours, but we feel something akin to worship for the generation after that. Grandchildren might be the reward for surviving.
The Bible says to yeild the things of youth. That's happening pretty deffinantly. It's easy to let go of dressing sexy, tanning at the beach, and staying up all night. Instead of massive exertion and magarita headaches it's teas, coffees, lunches, and dinners. There are a few laudable exceptions, but most of us are content to walk in the park.
We can organize ourselves with other like minded tourists; Red Hats, AARP, travel clubs, and senior discounts, or we can go it alone. Alone along life's lonesome highway. Oh, wait I think that is a Willie Nelson song and not actually my thought.
We walk slower, climb fewer stairs, dress more comfortable, drive more carefully, study deeper, read more labels, all quieter activities -- unless you zip-line or white water raft. Like I said there are exceptions. Generally we coddle ourselves just a little bit more. We are content to feed the birds.
We get wore out easier. After training at work and a son's dinner I was wiped out, even though Ian did 90% of the dinner work. Ian hauled, washed, and chopped every vegetable and there were lots of vegetables. Roger liked the salsa, Stephanie liked the banana pudding, Chirstian liked the Indian tacos, and Bo liked the squash pickles. Connor didn't like anything except Bo and wrecking havoc in my condo.
We are more content in the present. Looking back is nostalgic and looking forward is not so inpiring, so we conquer today. Our personality is set, we aren't likely to change. We accept more shortcomings and have a few more pills and doctor visits. My doctor told me I was getting older. Like I said we accept more shortcomings, I had already figured that part out. All that gathered collective wisdom enables us to tell folks to "duck off" if we want.
New things don't scare us, we have survived tougher.
It's a wonderous world I hope you get to visit someday.
Or as Carol's grandfather used to say. I get up in the morning and have nothing to do all day and when I go to bed at night it isn't all done yet.
We recent emigres' love the next generation and respect the fact of them making their own realities as we made ours, but we feel something akin to worship for the generation after that. Grandchildren might be the reward for surviving.
The Bible says to yeild the things of youth. That's happening pretty deffinantly. It's easy to let go of dressing sexy, tanning at the beach, and staying up all night. Instead of massive exertion and magarita headaches it's teas, coffees, lunches, and dinners. There are a few laudable exceptions, but most of us are content to walk in the park.
We can organize ourselves with other like minded tourists; Red Hats, AARP, travel clubs, and senior discounts, or we can go it alone. Alone along life's lonesome highway. Oh, wait I think that is a Willie Nelson song and not actually my thought.
We walk slower, climb fewer stairs, dress more comfortable, drive more carefully, study deeper, read more labels, all quieter activities -- unless you zip-line or white water raft. Like I said there are exceptions. Generally we coddle ourselves just a little bit more. We are content to feed the birds.
We get wore out easier. After training at work and a son's dinner I was wiped out, even though Ian did 90% of the dinner work. Ian hauled, washed, and chopped every vegetable and there were lots of vegetables. Roger liked the salsa, Stephanie liked the banana pudding, Chirstian liked the Indian tacos, and Bo liked the squash pickles. Connor didn't like anything except Bo and wrecking havoc in my condo.
We are more content in the present. Looking back is nostalgic and looking forward is not so inpiring, so we conquer today. Our personality is set, we aren't likely to change. We accept more shortcomings and have a few more pills and doctor visits. My doctor told me I was getting older. Like I said we accept more shortcomings, I had already figured that part out. All that gathered collective wisdom enables us to tell folks to "duck off" if we want.
New things don't scare us, we have survived tougher.
It's a wonderous world I hope you get to visit someday.
Or as Carol's grandfather used to say. I get up in the morning and have nothing to do all day and when I go to bed at night it isn't all done yet.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Art Urges
Like tree sap rising in the spring I keep feeling art urges, creative urges pushing at my boundaries. They are possessing me like some kind of demon from beyond. I'm thinking of taking up drumming or doll making. It's just that getting any creative engine started is hard.
I keep getting inspired to create or organize, and both are burbling, but neither has surfaced all the way up. Julia with her organizing and running, Mary with her drumming, Lynn with her organizing, Carol with her creative everything, Sandy with her dragon boating, even Roger and Stephanie with their mad running is inspiring, but my wavering flame hasn't bloomed into full blown creative fury -- yet.
I wrote a poem for Cara recently, does that count? I'm making Indian Tacos for Son's Dinner -- thank you Cathy for the inspiration. The beats of my heart continue: family, sons, friends, work, book club, all the maintenance work of living, and of course The Prince, The Connorman, but somehow I have reached the point of wanting just a little bit more creativity in my life. I think I have reached the limit of creative sitting.
Roger has given me a metal bookmarker for Christmas for years so today I shopped for a 12x18 cork board to display them on. Lucky me, Hobby Lobby had an 11x17 for 5.99 so I designed a layout that looks really good. That is a creative burble of some kind. I made toast. I won a pair of cowboy boots. I admired Mt Rainier this morning on my way to meet Claire.
When Mr Rainier pops out it lifts my spirits to heaven. I haven't seen it for six months and we are expecting two days of sunshine and clear skies so I might go look at it again tomorrow, just because, just for inspiration.
I recognize creativity, I admire and appreciate creativity, but my own personal creative edge is dull. I watched Werner Herzog's Cave of Forgotten Dreams if cave men can be creative so can I. Right? I read creative books, I joined creative Ian and his creative friends at The University Village sidewalk sale, I have a new frog sitting at my window, I have my two creative ceramic pieces from Bo sitting in my living room. Creativity here, there, and every where, but not a drop to drink.
I sent Christian an email and asked, "Are you and Bo still you and Bo?" Seems so, she will be here Sunday for Son's Dinner. Poor dear, I told Christian to warn her I'm not too fancy, dinner on your kneecaps sort of thing. One step above trailer trash ought to just about capture the reality of the situation. Do you think a native Korean will like Indian tacos, talk about cultural shock. I know she is the creative sort, now I just hope she is a creative sport.
I have a loose screw. Seriously, I think my shoulder surgery has come un-glued, or at least out of alignment. This is a new shoulder surprise of unmitigated pain. I'm pill popping until the doctor appointment and then we shall see just what kind of loose screw I am.
Besides leaking and creaking I keep dropping things. Does anyone else have this condition? Is it age related or Jan related? Just wondering. My mind still lurks around here, there, and every where.
I keep getting inspired to create or organize, and both are burbling, but neither has surfaced all the way up. Julia with her organizing and running, Mary with her drumming, Lynn with her organizing, Carol with her creative everything, Sandy with her dragon boating, even Roger and Stephanie with their mad running is inspiring, but my wavering flame hasn't bloomed into full blown creative fury -- yet.
I wrote a poem for Cara recently, does that count? I'm making Indian Tacos for Son's Dinner -- thank you Cathy for the inspiration. The beats of my heart continue: family, sons, friends, work, book club, all the maintenance work of living, and of course The Prince, The Connorman, but somehow I have reached the point of wanting just a little bit more creativity in my life. I think I have reached the limit of creative sitting.
Roger has given me a metal bookmarker for Christmas for years so today I shopped for a 12x18 cork board to display them on. Lucky me, Hobby Lobby had an 11x17 for 5.99 so I designed a layout that looks really good. That is a creative burble of some kind. I made toast. I won a pair of cowboy boots. I admired Mt Rainier this morning on my way to meet Claire.
When Mr Rainier pops out it lifts my spirits to heaven. I haven't seen it for six months and we are expecting two days of sunshine and clear skies so I might go look at it again tomorrow, just because, just for inspiration.
I recognize creativity, I admire and appreciate creativity, but my own personal creative edge is dull. I watched Werner Herzog's Cave of Forgotten Dreams if cave men can be creative so can I. Right? I read creative books, I joined creative Ian and his creative friends at The University Village sidewalk sale, I have a new frog sitting at my window, I have my two creative ceramic pieces from Bo sitting in my living room. Creativity here, there, and every where, but not a drop to drink.
I sent Christian an email and asked, "Are you and Bo still you and Bo?" Seems so, she will be here Sunday for Son's Dinner. Poor dear, I told Christian to warn her I'm not too fancy, dinner on your kneecaps sort of thing. One step above trailer trash ought to just about capture the reality of the situation. Do you think a native Korean will like Indian tacos, talk about cultural shock. I know she is the creative sort, now I just hope she is a creative sport.
I have a loose screw. Seriously, I think my shoulder surgery has come un-glued, or at least out of alignment. This is a new shoulder surprise of unmitigated pain. I'm pill popping until the doctor appointment and then we shall see just what kind of loose screw I am.
Besides leaking and creaking I keep dropping things. Does anyone else have this condition? Is it age related or Jan related? Just wondering. My mind still lurks around here, there, and every where.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Fart Joke
So, this old dude is starting to have stomach issues.
He is gaseous and having lots of silent farts.
The silent farts are getting so bad that he goes to the doctor. While waiting to see the doctor he has even more silent farts. Finally he gets in to the doctor's examining room and is explaining to the doctor about his condition and says, actually doctor I have had several silent farts since I've been talking to you.
The doctor looks at him and says well first we are going to get your hearing tested.
Love to all the young and old farts on Father's Day.
He is gaseous and having lots of silent farts.
The silent farts are getting so bad that he goes to the doctor. While waiting to see the doctor he has even more silent farts. Finally he gets in to the doctor's examining room and is explaining to the doctor about his condition and says, actually doctor I have had several silent farts since I've been talking to you.
The doctor looks at him and says well first we are going to get your hearing tested.
Love to all the young and old farts on Father's Day.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Sadness and Seagulls
Sadness and seagulls,
marriages and birthdays,
pre-school graduation and book shelves,
cold weather and Thunder,
Life goes on.
The family was saddened by the news of Clint's death. Saddened for Tal and Julia, saddened for his daughter, saddened for Nora and Andrew, saddened for his mother and grandparents, saddened by the idea of such a youthful death. I remember Clint as rambunctious and lively, hating Saturday school, eating hearty if he liked what was being served, playing freely if he liked the game being played, sometimes alone, sometimes not, sometimes coming to family get-togethers, sometimes not. Another loved one gone at age forty-two: a son, a grandson, a father. Gone in the never ending mystery of life.
Cara is getting married.
An old fashioned affair with everyone wearing cowboy boots -- at a cantina no less. I imagine a beer or two will be imbibed. Good cheer and well wishes extended. An excited Avery dancing to the beat. And a tear or two shed in the never ending mystery of life.
Roger turned forty-five. I made one of Roger's old favorites, a Strawberry Meringue Torte. Something I haven't made in years -- YEARS. It is looking good even if it is two days late or twenty years late, I'm not sure which. How did I get old enough to have a forty-five year old son? A son that survived early horrors in the never ending mystery of life.
And life goes on.
Connor has his first pre-school graduation on Saturday and I have half a day off to bask in his sunshine.
My book shelves remain stubbornly uncompleted. Half of them still need cleaned, dusted, and organized.
The weather is forty-five and rainy. Stephanie was complaining about turning on her heater the other day. The heater in June just seemed wrong to her somehow.
Playdate with Connor today.
Soup to cook.
Stops at the library, post office and bank.
Bills to pay.
Laundry day.
I heard something about the Thunder in Oklahoma winning some kind of big game. I could feel the joy and happiness of all those faithful fans. Okies at their best enjoying the moment. No, relishing the moment.
Seagulls woke me up this morning. I've never been awoken by any kind of birds before but this seagull chorus was powerful. Maybe they have a power, a power that other birds can't exude. It was such a joyous sound that I immediately delved into why I have never woke up to birds singing, squawking, or cawing before.
The never ending mystery of life continues.
marriages and birthdays,
pre-school graduation and book shelves,
cold weather and Thunder,
Life goes on.
The family was saddened by the news of Clint's death. Saddened for Tal and Julia, saddened for his daughter, saddened for Nora and Andrew, saddened for his mother and grandparents, saddened by the idea of such a youthful death. I remember Clint as rambunctious and lively, hating Saturday school, eating hearty if he liked what was being served, playing freely if he liked the game being played, sometimes alone, sometimes not, sometimes coming to family get-togethers, sometimes not. Another loved one gone at age forty-two: a son, a grandson, a father. Gone in the never ending mystery of life.
Cara is getting married.
An old fashioned affair with everyone wearing cowboy boots -- at a cantina no less. I imagine a beer or two will be imbibed. Good cheer and well wishes extended. An excited Avery dancing to the beat. And a tear or two shed in the never ending mystery of life.
Roger turned forty-five. I made one of Roger's old favorites, a Strawberry Meringue Torte. Something I haven't made in years -- YEARS. It is looking good even if it is two days late or twenty years late, I'm not sure which. How did I get old enough to have a forty-five year old son? A son that survived early horrors in the never ending mystery of life.
And life goes on.
Connor has his first pre-school graduation on Saturday and I have half a day off to bask in his sunshine.
My book shelves remain stubbornly uncompleted. Half of them still need cleaned, dusted, and organized.
The weather is forty-five and rainy. Stephanie was complaining about turning on her heater the other day. The heater in June just seemed wrong to her somehow.
Playdate with Connor today.
Soup to cook.
Stops at the library, post office and bank.
Bills to pay.
Laundry day.
I heard something about the Thunder in Oklahoma winning some kind of big game. I could feel the joy and happiness of all those faithful fans. Okies at their best enjoying the moment. No, relishing the moment.
Seagulls woke me up this morning. I've never been awoken by any kind of birds before but this seagull chorus was powerful. Maybe they have a power, a power that other birds can't exude. It was such a joyous sound that I immediately delved into why I have never woke up to birds singing, squawking, or cawing before.
The never ending mystery of life continues.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Things to See and Things to Do
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.
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.
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.
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