The good the bad and the ugly as I run around my little life here in almost sunny Mukilteo.
I met Christian's new girl, Bo, and I must say I am giddy with delight. She's an artist, teacher, talented, traveled, educated, not to mention cute. She is a fashion designer of some very odd clothing and dance costumes, and Mother's Day she gave me two very impressive pieces of her pottery. What's not to be giddy over. Christian said her tiny Fremont apartment has more stuff than mine, like I said, what's not to be giddy over.
Christian's shop is half closed, they are removing some old fuel tanks and his work bays aren't accessible, so he has been semi-retired for a while. Lynn and I were going to breakfast last Friday and decided to drive to Ballard to have one of those magnificent apple pancakes at the Family Pancake House. We go walking in and Lynn said "Look at that." So I looked and started reading this dude's tee-shirt, slightly ornery, (once a reader always a reader) then I realized I was reading Christian's chest. That was a Friday morning surprise he was unprepared for, but he graciously, well not quite graciously, more reluctantly, put aside his book and let us two old fat ladies join him. It wound up delightful, well to me anyway.
Ian's first fitting for his new crown failed so he has to go back next week for another try. Disappointed? Yes. He is getting tired of soft food though, just being cautious, so we lived dangerously and went out to a new gyro place he knew about and risked it. He did fine, the gyro was superb, his temporary crown stayed in place and I got fatter.
I hadn't seen much of Ian because he was house/dog sitting for Roger and Steph while they made the drive to Southern California for Mr Carrillo's funeral. Twenty-two hours each way. Roger's cousin, Jason, rode down with them. They said Connor did fantastic, but what kid wouldn't be fantastic with movies, music, videos, and three adults to charm him. Man has times changed in the child hauling business.
Roger was teary when he told about the hotrods that led the funeral cortege. Five or six of the progeny brought out their classic cars with messages like "Cruising with Grampa" shoe polished on the sides. Roger and Stephanie said the time in California and the funeral was more a celebration of Mr Carrillo's life, as it should be, and he was buried as close to Lonnie as possible. Made me teary also.
Oh, and Grampa had fired the gardener the week before because he wasn't doing a good enough job.
I saw the Connorman last night for another wild ride. We were upstairs, we were downstairs, we were outside, we rocked out to Connor music on his guitar and piano, we raced cars, crashed cars, cleaned cars, and put the cars away very neatly back in the little carrying case (see he is related to Lonnie). We were busy. Connor didn't trust me to put the cars back properly so he did that. Yep, he is related to Lonnie. The only thing Lonnie would let me do is turn over an engine occasionally.
I hate games but my boss at work said I wouldn't mind one team building game she was planning. Yeah right! A tag is put on your back of a person, place or thing and you get twenty questions to guess who. I got mine narrowed down to male, not a politician, Steve Jobs, or John Wayne and then got lost in inane questions. They finally took pity on me and said who is your favorite person, I said well right now that would have to be my grandson Connor -- Yep Connor was the name plastered on my back. That boss flanked me and tricked me.
I've had a host of doctor appointments lately. Every time I go see a doctor it means seven more appointments are needed. I guess that's what I get for being old fat tired blind hard of hearing with high blood pressure, high cholesterol, bad heart and diabetes. Now we can add female troubles to the list. Damn.
On the drive to see the specialist over in Everett I noticed all the good the bad and the ugly. Beautiful homes -- decrepit homes, beautiful skies -- utility wires, beautiful Possession Sound -- scummy water, soaring mountains and islands in the distance -- road construction, and beautiful, beautiful, beautiful trees, bushes, hedges, and gardens. The world has burst into full bloom. I think the flowers would stun God.
How did the world get so beautiful? The good.
My life was a little out of whack, but it has been whacked back into shape. The good.
Today I will continue my odyssey of book shelf cleaning, sorting, dusting, organizing, and make Ian a little mac and cheese. The good.
I guess there is no ugly after all, it's all good.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Reflections
Mr Carrillo died.
He fell asleep in his big old soft recliner and never woke up. At ninety-four years of age it seemed like a pretty good way to go; surrounded by the sun, his garden and his loving wife of seventy plus years.
Roger said on their last visit, the first weekend of May, that Grampa was complaining he couldn't climb a step ladder any more to trim his trees that the last time he climbed up the fire department had to come get him down. Roger said that he was very frail and spent a lot of his time dozing -- in the sun. During the visit Roger took a wonderful collection of photographs of all of them; together and separate, with Connor and without, sitting and standing, smiling and hugging. When a person dies at ninety-four it's hard to be sad but hard not to feel sad also.
He died loved. It seems like a pretty good way to go.
The death of a beloved person brings many emotions tumbling to the surface and I've reflected back on my own emotional dance with death over the years. One death and then another made me grateful for not having any residual guilt, so much so that I started trying to live my life as guilt free as I could. This was a good decision for me. Living with out guilt was a gift from God at first, an accident, but then slowly and very consciously I chose a path trying to live as guilt free as possible. This is a gift I try to give to myself every day.
I am stunned sometimes at the amount of discontent, anger, rage, hatred loose in the world. Where does it come from? Why does "anti" versus "for" create such a vortex. Why do my dreams have to die so yours can flourish? Is a gay marriage going to unhinge the balance of the cosmos? In the big picture does it matter? Is my bacon sandwich really a sin?
And all the weaker cousins of discontent/anger/rage/hatred, like mocking, cynicism or caustic humor at the expense of another. A plaid shirt is redneck? My accent is humorous? My weight is unforgivable? My car is substandard? The other day if I heard it once I heard it dozens of times "that's ugly" everything from a child to boots. Shopping at Walmart or Target is low class? When I breastfed my first baby I was damned, now you are damned if you don't breastfeed. Leather shoes, whale meat, wind turbines -- somebodies day is ruined over these facts.
So to everybody whose day I have ruined due to lousy taste, accent, beliefs, car, kids, goals or dreams -- please forgive me. I'm trying to live my life guilt free.
Oh, yeah and I'm trying to live my life with as much love as I can.
Surrounded by love seems like a pretty good way to go.
He fell asleep in his big old soft recliner and never woke up. At ninety-four years of age it seemed like a pretty good way to go; surrounded by the sun, his garden and his loving wife of seventy plus years.
Roger said on their last visit, the first weekend of May, that Grampa was complaining he couldn't climb a step ladder any more to trim his trees that the last time he climbed up the fire department had to come get him down. Roger said that he was very frail and spent a lot of his time dozing -- in the sun. During the visit Roger took a wonderful collection of photographs of all of them; together and separate, with Connor and without, sitting and standing, smiling and hugging. When a person dies at ninety-four it's hard to be sad but hard not to feel sad also.
He died loved. It seems like a pretty good way to go.
The death of a beloved person brings many emotions tumbling to the surface and I've reflected back on my own emotional dance with death over the years. One death and then another made me grateful for not having any residual guilt, so much so that I started trying to live my life as guilt free as I could. This was a good decision for me. Living with out guilt was a gift from God at first, an accident, but then slowly and very consciously I chose a path trying to live as guilt free as possible. This is a gift I try to give to myself every day.
I am stunned sometimes at the amount of discontent, anger, rage, hatred loose in the world. Where does it come from? Why does "anti" versus "for" create such a vortex. Why do my dreams have to die so yours can flourish? Is a gay marriage going to unhinge the balance of the cosmos? In the big picture does it matter? Is my bacon sandwich really a sin?
And all the weaker cousins of discontent/anger/rage/hatred, like mocking, cynicism or caustic humor at the expense of another. A plaid shirt is redneck? My accent is humorous? My weight is unforgivable? My car is substandard? The other day if I heard it once I heard it dozens of times "that's ugly" everything from a child to boots. Shopping at Walmart or Target is low class? When I breastfed my first baby I was damned, now you are damned if you don't breastfeed. Leather shoes, whale meat, wind turbines -- somebodies day is ruined over these facts.
So to everybody whose day I have ruined due to lousy taste, accent, beliefs, car, kids, goals or dreams -- please forgive me. I'm trying to live my life guilt free.
Oh, yeah and I'm trying to live my life with as much love as I can.
Surrounded by love seems like a pretty good way to go.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
p.s.
I meant to add this also from Pleasant Hill Raymond:
From Zen Art for Meditation by Stewart W.
Holmes and Chimyo Horioka:
How can we fret and stew sub specie
aeternitatis - under the calm gaze of ancient
Tao?
The salt of the sea is in our blood;
The calcium of the rocks is in our bones;
The genes of ten thousand generations of
stalwart progenitors are in our cells.
The sun shines and we smile.
The winds rage and we bend before them.
The blossoms open and we rejoice.
Earth is our long home.
From Zen Art for Meditation by Stewart W.
Holmes and Chimyo Horioka:
How can we fret and stew sub specie
aeternitatis - under the calm gaze of ancient
Tao?
The salt of the sea is in our blood;
The calcium of the rocks is in our bones;
The genes of ten thousand generations of
stalwart progenitors are in our cells.
The sun shines and we smile.
The winds rage and we bend before them.
The blossoms open and we rejoice.
Earth is our long home.
Yertle the Turtle and Rain
Yertle the Turtle was banned in a community in Canada as being too political. Too political? It seems as though the school district was having a labor dispute and some part of Dr Suess' book was visible through a labor representative's car window on school property.
That's pretty well the extreme of banned.
The school district decided Yertle's pleas for justice for all was a slippery slope they didn't want broadcast.
Life is always interesting.
But that big old super moon just about made up for any short comings I have been experiencing with the world lately.
I had lunch with Carol -- in the rain. As we two old fat ladies were leaving the Mexican restaurant one staff member said to another, in Spanish "Those ladies ate everything on their plate" not realizing Carol understood.
If it looks like an old lady and it talks like an old lady it probably is an old lady.
Finished all my car stuff -- in the rain.
Ian had major dental work -- in the rain.
I went to the grocery store for soft food -- in the rain
Picked up Claire after her most recent monitoring tests -- in the rain.
She is still cancer free.
On my playdate with Connor -- in the rain -- I learned the four most dreaded words in the English language, "Granny play with me." So we played school and race car and driving and drawing and coloring and looking at books and reenacting book plots. Sometimes I had to be the baby and sometime the dump truck. Imagination at work with a willing granny produced an enchanted, exhausting evening. What ever the agenda is -- I'm in!
When he opened his treat tin and spied a new wetnap he said,"Granny, you brought me another one!"
I canceled my date with Lynn because of the rain.
Christian turned 36 -- in the rain.
Drove to work in the rain, drove home in the rain. As I kept buzzing up and down I-5; to Seattle, to Ballard, to Everett, to Lake City, to Mill Creek I thought man I'm tired of the rain, and it's not like me to grow weary of Pacific Northwest rain. However on my way to book club last night -- in the rain -- I realized I'm not tired of the rain, I'm tired of driving in the rain. Old lady driver with old lady eyes with poor visibility in the rain with crazy drivers in the rain produces one very nervous old lady.
I love the rain when it's Spring, when I'm snuggled inside with a book, or a movie, or a taco, or Connor.
It is lush and green here.
And the weather has finally warmed up to mild winter weather.
I finished the Steve Jobs book -- it should have rained on him. They said in the book what a charismatic man he was, how compelling he was, and I will have to say as I was reading the book I kept thinking I don't even like this man, but I kept reading -- fascinated and compelled. What do you get when you cross asshole with visionary -- Steve Jobs.
I have started Born to Run and one third of the way through I'm fascinated and compelled. Very entertaining writing by a slightly subversive clever writer. However...
The two books back to back drew me to the world of superstars. I didn't know but a few of the names in the Steve Jobs book but they were superstars of the tech world. Then I don't know but a few of the names in the running book but they are superstars in the running world. How many worlds are out there with super stars I know nothing about? Cycling, surfing, spiritualist, medical, gourmet and just how important are they in the big world sitting under a super moon? Well, okay, Steve Jobs probably moved the world forward, but how many others? I've done a great job of being the super star in Jan's world. I moved the world forward my way.
Bob Dylan said, as I was reminded in the Steve Jobs book; Get busy living or get busy dying. Is it okay to do both? Here I am living and dying in Seattle -- in the rain.
Ian is home from house sitting, at last my personal assistant is home. Mother's Day dinner is scheduled for Sunday at my favorite Macaroni Grill with room for Claire and maybe, just maybe, Christian will bring a date. He said, now don't get excited but I might bring a girl. DON'T GET EXCITED! What world does he live in? Roger and Stephanie took Connor for his first visit to Disneyland -- in the sun. I received a text from Roger saying Connor had a great first visit to Disneyland, full details to follow. Today is the day, I'll get the full details at my playdate, and today the sun is shinning as we warm to a toasty weekend, high 70's -- no rain.
Speaking of turtles: a health message from Jean:
As I was lying in bed pondering the problems of the world, I rapidly realized
that I don't really give a rat's hiney. It's the tortoise life for me!
1. If walking is good for your health, the postman would be immortal.
2. A whale swims all day, only eats fish, drinks water, and is fat.
3. A rabbit runs and hops and only lives 8 months.
4. A tortoise doesn't run and does nothing, yet it lives for 450 years.
And you tell me to exercise?? I don't think so. I'm retired. Go around me.
My Pleasant Hill buddy Ray McLain sent me this: Harry Truman: "When i retire, I'm going to go out on the porch and sit in my rocking chair. After about a week I'm going to begin to very slowly rock."
Last note of the day culled from the Born to Run book: Let us live so that when we come to die, even the undertaker will be sorry. Mark Twain.
I am the super star of my world.
Love to your world.
That's pretty well the extreme of banned.
The school district decided Yertle's pleas for justice for all was a slippery slope they didn't want broadcast.
Life is always interesting.
But that big old super moon just about made up for any short comings I have been experiencing with the world lately.
I had lunch with Carol -- in the rain. As we two old fat ladies were leaving the Mexican restaurant one staff member said to another, in Spanish "Those ladies ate everything on their plate" not realizing Carol understood.
If it looks like an old lady and it talks like an old lady it probably is an old lady.
Finished all my car stuff -- in the rain.
Ian had major dental work -- in the rain.
I went to the grocery store for soft food -- in the rain
Picked up Claire after her most recent monitoring tests -- in the rain.
She is still cancer free.
On my playdate with Connor -- in the rain -- I learned the four most dreaded words in the English language, "Granny play with me." So we played school and race car and driving and drawing and coloring and looking at books and reenacting book plots. Sometimes I had to be the baby and sometime the dump truck. Imagination at work with a willing granny produced an enchanted, exhausting evening. What ever the agenda is -- I'm in!
When he opened his treat tin and spied a new wetnap he said,"Granny, you brought me another one!"
I canceled my date with Lynn because of the rain.
Christian turned 36 -- in the rain.
Drove to work in the rain, drove home in the rain. As I kept buzzing up and down I-5; to Seattle, to Ballard, to Everett, to Lake City, to Mill Creek I thought man I'm tired of the rain, and it's not like me to grow weary of Pacific Northwest rain. However on my way to book club last night -- in the rain -- I realized I'm not tired of the rain, I'm tired of driving in the rain. Old lady driver with old lady eyes with poor visibility in the rain with crazy drivers in the rain produces one very nervous old lady.
I love the rain when it's Spring, when I'm snuggled inside with a book, or a movie, or a taco, or Connor.
It is lush and green here.
And the weather has finally warmed up to mild winter weather.
I finished the Steve Jobs book -- it should have rained on him. They said in the book what a charismatic man he was, how compelling he was, and I will have to say as I was reading the book I kept thinking I don't even like this man, but I kept reading -- fascinated and compelled. What do you get when you cross asshole with visionary -- Steve Jobs.
I have started Born to Run and one third of the way through I'm fascinated and compelled. Very entertaining writing by a slightly subversive clever writer. However...
The two books back to back drew me to the world of superstars. I didn't know but a few of the names in the Steve Jobs book but they were superstars of the tech world. Then I don't know but a few of the names in the running book but they are superstars in the running world. How many worlds are out there with super stars I know nothing about? Cycling, surfing, spiritualist, medical, gourmet and just how important are they in the big world sitting under a super moon? Well, okay, Steve Jobs probably moved the world forward, but how many others? I've done a great job of being the super star in Jan's world. I moved the world forward my way.
Bob Dylan said, as I was reminded in the Steve Jobs book; Get busy living or get busy dying. Is it okay to do both? Here I am living and dying in Seattle -- in the rain.
Ian is home from house sitting, at last my personal assistant is home. Mother's Day dinner is scheduled for Sunday at my favorite Macaroni Grill with room for Claire and maybe, just maybe, Christian will bring a date. He said, now don't get excited but I might bring a girl. DON'T GET EXCITED! What world does he live in? Roger and Stephanie took Connor for his first visit to Disneyland -- in the sun. I received a text from Roger saying Connor had a great first visit to Disneyland, full details to follow. Today is the day, I'll get the full details at my playdate, and today the sun is shinning as we warm to a toasty weekend, high 70's -- no rain.
Speaking of turtles: a health message from Jean:
As I was lying in bed pondering the problems of the world, I rapidly realized
that I don't really give a rat's hiney. It's the tortoise life for me!
1. If walking is good for your health, the postman would be immortal.
2. A whale swims all day, only eats fish, drinks water, and is fat.
3. A rabbit runs and hops and only lives 8 months.
4. A tortoise doesn't run and does nothing, yet it lives for 450 years.
And you tell me to exercise?? I don't think so. I'm retired. Go around me.
My Pleasant Hill buddy Ray McLain sent me this: Harry Truman: "When i retire, I'm going to go out on the porch and sit in my rocking chair. After about a week I'm going to begin to very slowly rock."
Last note of the day culled from the Born to Run book: Let us live so that when we come to die, even the undertaker will be sorry. Mark Twain.
I am the super star of my world.
Love to your world.
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