The Boy Can Dance

Connor spied me through the window waiting for him at his Vibe Dance Studio. Granny, he squealed, why are you standing at the window? Yep, that's my boy.

I was able to watch his class on the big screen monitors with closed circuit TVs, and let me tell you he dances with gusto but not much balance.

Tap: When he swings his foot he could kick a football to Cleveland. He would skip-kick-kerplunk fall over sideways and then repeat, skip kick kerplunk, skip kick kerplunk. He can rock back and forth, but not much swivel. He is good at pushing and tickling the little girl standing next to him and he is good at waving fare-thee-well to Polly Wolly Doodle as his exited his space on the dance floor.

Eight little girls and Connor. He did say when he arrived, in mass, these are my friends and was telling me their names, but they were busy bossing him around and told him to get to class. He went.

Tap is over so the group charges out to change into their ballet shoes for the second half of class. Connor was the first one out of class and the last one back in. The girls, again, told him to get to class. He went.

Ballet: I watched him pointe his little foot out then plie and then topple over - every time -- over and over again. When the teacher brought out the little satin dance ribbons Connor's looked more like a weapon to battle dark forces with. Teachers of little boys in ballet classes must be sainted with patience, except for Ian's of course.

Girls, girls, girls, girls. I watched the strange girl-greet-girl ritual many times over as several different classes were collecting and dispersing while I waited. There is a little flutter, wiggle, jiggle, and smile, touch or hug -- or all three. And girls know what is going on. It must be genetic material kicking in for when they become moms. They know who is paying attention and who isn't, they know who is late and why, they know who is slacking, who is misbehaving, whose jacket is improperly hung up, who got too much water or not enough, whose mother just arrived or dad as the case may be (lots of dads), whose water bottle is where and who isn't running to class fast enough. Connor.

Let me tell you something else about girls: I never saw so much satin, lace, ribbons, beads, chiffon fluttering, sequins, sparkle, soft rosette and bow adornments in all my life, and just in case you missed it there are several hundred more bows in every combination of shine. All the little girls were in pink Connor was in his Sounder fan sweat suit, navy and lime green.

Yes, he likes his dance class or weapons training, which ever.

Kneecaps come and kneecaps go. I'm not sure where Jerry is in this cycle.
Winter comes and winter goes -- well -- I keep  hoping.

Some things are tenuous.
We can't all be good at the same things
I'm not good with fiances like some family members, I would like to think I'm the good artist but so is Roger, Janice, Mark, Ian, Jeremiah, Christian, Amber, Jean, Jeff, Julia, Tal, Nora, it might be slightly different artistic endeavors, but it is there.
Janice sounds a wee bit better, stronger and thinks there is some improvement in some of her different health ailments. It was comforting to hear.
Some things are tenuous.

Sons are grand.
Christian is a wee bit sad that Bo will be out of town on his birthday.
Ian is heading off to Oregon later this week and then Florida later this month.
Roger is training for his 50k.
Stephanie is stressed because it has been very busy at work.

Stress foods; black beans, oatmeal, tea.

Make someone happy today.

Google

Ian told me if you Google The Spirit of Maxine you get our family blog -- and you do. First listing. Then if you scroll down to images of The Spirit of Maxine you get the sibling photograph. Kinda neat and kinda creepy all at the same time. I am just old enough to feel it is spooky.

Oklahoma weather made Washington news. Oklahoma goes from 87 degrees to 27 degrees in 24 hours.

I hope your day is fun, relaxing, full of good news, productive, maybe a nap, loving, smooth sailing, comfortable and loving.

Connor, Connor, Connor

I was going to blog about my spiritual experience standing in the middle of an Oklahoma wheat field, and I will, someday, but Connor came to book club last night... A different sort of spiritual experience.

Roger dropped him off at my house and he knew we were going to "book club" so I asked him if he knew what a book club was? "Yes, granny," sigh, and I mean big Sigh, "it's where books live." Big big SIGH.

As we were preparing to leave I spread out some treat choices and told him to pack his treat tin. He had some tough choices to make. Jelly beans or chocolate chip cookies. Orange or banana. Ritz crackers or cheese crackers.

He saw some candy sitting by the computer and he said, Hey what's that? I said those are Ian's. Why? Because I bought those treats for Ian. Why? Because I love Ian. Why?

Driving down the highway towards Third Place Books he told me all about the time he went to a pirate girl book club. I said I had never heard of that and he explained to me, in detail, lots of detail,
how it was broken now, and only he and daddy knew where it was, and it wasn't for Granny's.

Driving down the highway he told me the bumper came off his Lego car.
I said Connor you told me you wouldn't take the Lego car apart if I let you bring it with you,
Are you taking it apart?
No, Granny.
Granny there are lots of pieces coming off.
Connor you told me you weren't taking it apart.
It fell apart.

I love you Granny.

He told me he didn't like girls book clubs only boys book clubs.

Granny where are our bags for books?
I didn't bring any.
Why?

Granny where are the toys?
Right here Connor.
Why are these girl toys?

We had to ride the escalator down where he told the man riding the escalator behind us to pick up a piece of trash laying on the escalator step. The man ignored him. Then he tried to snag the trash himself but decided the escalator was a little to fierce for him, so he told me to pick up the trash. I did. Then we rode the escalator up.

The other day at his house he saw a man standing beside a car across the street and yelled, Hey guy, what are you doing? No answer. So he yelled a little louder, Hey guy, who are you? That guy ignored him also.

After our exciting ride on the escalator, Connor told me he needed to go  poop.

As an emerging adult Connor has lots of questions; Why is there a hallway to the toilet? Why are there locks on the bathroom doors? Why are there toilet seat sheet protectors? Why are the toilet sheet protectors gone? He can wipe his own butt, thank you very much. Why is there soap? Why wash his hands? Why are the lights covered? Why is the tile cracked? Why can he use only two paper towels? Why is there a bench there?

What is that? It's a photo booth. What's a photo booth? Why are there lights? Why does it have a curtain?

Why are there no boys toys?

We settled down at a table to wait for the arrival of others. Why is there a table? Why are other people coming to book club? Why didn't we bring a bag for our books? Why is that lady walking?

I said Connor I'm going to go get us some water and started to walk away from the table and he YELLED, Hey don't lose me. The water was only ten steps away, but Third Place Books is a big, Big, BIG place.

After he discovered where and how to get the water it became his duty as someone arrived to go get them water. Number one; he likes to do jobs. Number two; he liked messing with the water dispenser. He liked messing with the water dispenser a lot.

He had his treat tin and shared his crackers and jelly beans with every one whether they wanted them or not. Occasionally he licked a cracker or jelly bean before he handed it to them. He ate the banana.

We walked outside to see the big fire truck that was parked there. Why is the fire truck there? Why are the working men gone? Why doesn't it have a ladder?

In the children's play area he found a toy camera. Why is this camera here? Why is it broken?

Eleanor took a photo of Connor at book club, so Connor made Eleanor stand at the end of the row so he could take a photo also. He told Eleanor his camera was a pretend camera. Why is there a pretend camera?

He had to give all the book club ladies a hug as we left and Mary said, You should sell those.

As we were walking out of Third Place Books to go home he waved good bye to every customer in the store; eating, walking, talking, ordering, paying, entering or exiting. Why are you talking me home?

Where is our bag of books?
Why don't we have bags for books?

Driving home he sighed, a big big sigh and said, I tried really hard not to play with girls toys.

Yep, that's the boy.

My book club friends all told me how cute he is and what nice manners he has. He is and does, but I really enjoyed the compliments anyway.

When I delivered him home and was telling mom and dad about the "pirate book club lady" Roger figured out that he and Grampa Fortener had once gone to the library where Connor had a story time with a pirate book club lady and then he and Grampa went home with bags of books.

Being granny is exhausting what with fetching, carrying, sorting, fixing, holding, and answering 17,000 whys in the span of several hours. Stephanie had no sympathy for me being exhasted since it's what she does every day. Plus I had to eat a few wet jelly beans and crackers.

Eleanor emailed me the photo, I posted it on Facebook, and Mary, bless her, wrote "Connor is sweetness and light boys style."


I want to mention that I talked to Janice the other day, well she can barely talk, but we tried to talk and she is depressed, very depressed. She keeps getting worse instead of better. She has more infections and more serious infections. She asked me to come see her. I said I would see what I could do, and she said I don't want you to make a special trip. I said, Well, Janice the only reason I would come would be special and to see you. Silly sister.

I hope no one is hurt too badly with the April winter storms.
I hope Jerry's knee is still semi functional.
I hope everyone else's heath is semi functional.
I hope everyone else is semi functional.
and
I hope Hannah has a spectacular birthday today.
and
I'm glad Connor isn't here to ask why.

The Way a Mind Works

I guess I was just thinking of Julia. I had read about the Tracy Aviary in Utah and thought how much she would love such a place.
And
that got me to remembering that a small community north of here had a Bird Watching Festival once. Like I'm going to go bird watching? Anyway, I started looking for information on Stanwood's Bird Watching Festival for no reason other than I was thinking about Julia
and
I found all this information on Cordelia J Stanwood who was an early day, Victorian lady, ornithologist
and
found this quote worthy of sharing: ...How little it would take to blot the remembrance of me out of the world.
Love that quote.

Ian and I are trying to get passports or passport cards.
and
I'm digging around in "important papers" trying to find his birth certificate (never did)
and
found this gem from Janice. She sent it to me years ago
and
I have always loved it.
And
Sometimes it is fun being me.

If you have already seen this I apologize for being redundant, otherwise enjoy.

Tater People

Some people never seem motivated to participate, but are content to watch while others do the work. They are called "Spect Taters."

Some people never do anything to help, but are gifted at finding fault with the way others do the work. They are called "Comment Taters."

Some people are very bossy and like to tell others what to do, but don't want to soil their own hands. They are called "Dick Taters."

Some people are always looking to cause problems by asking others to agree with them. It is too hot or cold, too sour or sweet. They are called "Agie Taters."

There are those who say they will help, but somehow never get around to actually doing the promised help. They are called "Hezzie Taters".

Some people can put up a front and pretend to be someone they are not. They are called "Emma Taters."

Then there are those who love others and do what they say they will. They are always prepared to stop whatever they are doing and lend a helping hand. They bring real sunshine into the lives of others. They are called "Sweet Taters."


Connor received some ping pong ball shooter things with little catching baskets attached for Easter, a rabbit and a carrot, with the task being to play ping pong shooter catch with some one like a granny.
And
this granny, being the granny she is, showed him how to shoot plastic eggs instead, or ping pong balls
 and
plastic eggs, or Lego men, or Easter candy. We did have a good time until daddy came home.
And
sometimes it is fun being granny.

After Easter I had found a package of those old fashioned sugar Easter eggs that used to be so prevalent at children's egg hunts before the prevalence of plastic eggs.
And
I put one in Connor's treat tin when I went on our playdate. He looked at that egg suspiciously,
and
he smacked it on the table a time or two
and
he looked at me suspiciously, then asked. Why is this candy a rock?


I'm trying to finish up my five year odyssey to obtain a passport. What would be an afternoon task for some people becomes gargantuan to me, insurmountable, impossible.
And
Sometimes it is not fun being me.

Love to all you Sweet Taters and sour apples too.

What a Ride

It took seven hours to go no where and do nothing.

All through February at our Wednesday breakfast Claire, Mary and I talked of a drive north to see the eagles. All through March we talked of going somewhere, anywhere. It was always too rainy, too cold, too busy, too blah. Yesterday was the day. We headed south down the Alaskan Viaduct toward the airport to see where the road goes to. It so happens it goes nowhere in particular.

We drove through a mostly industrial Pacific Northwest and it was surprisingly beautiful.

We wove on and off HWY 99, we wove on and off HWY 509, we sailed past the big Ferris wheel, we peered at the big container ships in port, we saw ports both small and large, we scooted down Schuster Parkway. In and out of traffic, in and out of industrial areas, in and out of ports, down waterways, past waterfront parks. Seattle, Burien, Normandy Park, Des Moines -- great breakfast there -- Redondo Beach, Federal Way all the way to Tacoma. We drove the five mile trek around Point Defiance Park, saw a lot of glimpses of the sound through the trees. It was spring break so we also saw lots of families and children. All along the waterways we saw runners, joggers, walkers, restaurants, buildings. Union Station in Tacoma was spectacular.

We speculated about this and that, stuff we had no idea what it was. The side streets of Tacoma were loaded with parked cars that we wondered about until Mary figured out they were parking lots for the Sounder Train to Seattle, as there is no official parking lot. Interesting. We saw bridges; under, over and around. Ferries busy plying the waters or perched in port. Took the long way round Dash Point.

The Tacoma Narrows was visible in every aspect. I always thought of the Tacoma Narrows as a bridge and not a landmass formation. Yep, we drove it. We stopped a little along the way, but mostly we drove. We did a big u-turn to go back and check out The Place of Circling Waters, a wildlife habitat, right at the Port of Tacoma. I wove past trucks, containers, traffic, red lights, and cops.

It was closed.

Lastly we started looking for a Starbucks to wend down our trek, we drove miles and miles and miles and no Starbucks in sight. We wound up at a little neighborhood joint in Ballard before I dropped Claire off where we sipped our lattes and relived the day. All in glorious Seattle spring weather with cool breezes and warm sunshine.

What a great day going no where and doing nothing.

I am rich in friends.

I  am rich in family. I am rich in sons, son's ladies, grandson. The blessings of the world are staggering. The craft of the world is staggering. How do you build a ship from a bolt up, or a bridge or a Ferris wheel. I read about the High Steel Bridge outside of Sheldon, I think I might have to go see that.

Easter was great.
Did you know the movie Kinky Boots is being turned into a Broadway play?
Julia, did you know there is an owl forest at The Tracy Aviary in Utah?
Are you and Tal still planning a road trip?
Did you know a cough travels 40 MPH and a sneeze 100 MPH.
Bo made Christian lunch and had watermelon shaped like hearts.
I love Bo.
All the trees here are glazed with a little green, pink, white or yellow haze glimmering.
Unless they have already sprung into full bloom.
I am rich in spring.

I think I will get a passport drivers license, it's time.
I think I will travel somewhere this summer; Montana maybe.
I think I will send some thank you cards to everyone, for something, every one I know has done something nice for me at some point or other.
I think I will plant some tomatoes this year. It is supposed to be very difficult to grow tomatoes in the Pacific Northwest, but I have a lot of western sun.
I am rich in sunlight.
I just finished the last of my Easter pickled beets. Wonderful.
I still have a few colored eggs left to eat.

Claire won't come to a son's dinner, it's private she says. So Christian suggested we have a Claire's dinner instead, and we are. April 28th is Claire's dinner and you are invited. I'm making lasagna.

I scored with Connor when I bought him some Legos, he liked them better than Christian. However Ian was in trouble because he ate his candy. "Why did you eat the candy?" Connor asked to which Ian replied, "Mom, why did you tell him?' I was just being mean.

Jeff says he is only bringing a suitcase, chairs, the goodie box, hot dog skewers, Vienna Sausages and booze to the family reunion next year.

We are all rich in Jeff.