Christmas on Earth

Driving to the grocery store on a dark misty morning for my last fresh vegetable run, I saw a lone woman with her dog out far an early Christmas Eve walk in the park. The solitaryness, the quietness, the beauty of it struck me and took me to other quiet solitary sights and feeling; the lone fishing boat in the vast ocean outside of Glacier Bay, The Nighthawks painting. I remembered years ago another early morning misty drive down the San Bernardino mountains on another early morning misty Christmas Eve.

I went to deep places and wound up 100 million light years away, and here is us in this wee universe, in this wee solar system, on this wee planet, amid all that immensity, 100 million light years away -- to me, and my infinitesimally small speck in that sphere. My heart full to bursting with the glow and love of the season. Thinking of Amber and her "It's snowing.." post on Facebook, Art's surgery, Ian preparing for his Christmas Eve work day, Roger and I making plans to take Connor to Christian's working-man-shop. Such a full quiet life. And this is where I belong, my Earth, my spot, my family, my loves, my hearth and home.

I can dive deep to find my roots, my bedrock, and always come to the same point of this is what I am, this is what I do. 100 million light years away isn't mine, it belongs to some other intelligence. This is my life. My low-keyed Christmas with some beloved faces, some winning grins, some tender friends. My Christmas is as festive as a pumpkin patch, a little dirt, some roots, some color grouped together or separate.

Immensity to me in a single line of being, an entry point into the stream of life. Everything else is so huge, so deep, so wide, it would be an impertinence of me to say what it is. It isn't Christmas 100 million light years away, or even all across the planet, but it is Christmas in my life, in my sphere, in my heart. My family is what matters in my life. My tried and true labors of love. Cooking favorite treats, dishes, pies. Admiring Ian as he wraps up the last gifts, me wrapped up in my life in Mukilteo as I catch glimpses of other family member's Christmas-on-Earth life.

It's been weeks of customers, cooking, Ian wrapping, thinking of silly limericks. My friend had a heart attack, mild but scary. I saw fire engines racing off to somewhere and hoped for everyone's safety, hoped it was a cat stuck up a tree. The grocery store at 6 am had three customers, when I drove by at 8:30 to have breakfast with Claire the parking lot was half full, when I came home at 11:30 the parking lot was packed, then when I drove by for a little Mexican tamales dinner late in the evening the parking lot was back to empty. That is Christmas in America.

I cut myself grating cheese, I always do, I always bleed for my families holiday meals.

I soaked up the energy and fun of Christmas Eve as I had breakfast with Claire, visit with Roger, dinner with Ian. Seeing folks shopping, driving, even gassing up their cars seemed more festive. Soaking up the grace of the day, the grace of family, the grace of love, the grace of Christmas.

I posted a picture of Ian's package wrapping artistry on Facebook. Enjoy your day and Merry Christmas.

Days Before Christmas

Quote from the book Man in the Window: "Everything that comes out right. The dreams that come true.

"Only eight days until Christmas," Connor announced when I picked him up from school. Guess who is counting? Are you?

Connor showed me how to cut a heart and a foxhead out of paper free hand.
I showed Connor how to cut a heart out of paper folded in half.
Connor showed me how to cut a fox out of paper folded in half.
The boy picks up concepts quick.
Did you know you could cut a fox head out of folded paper?
I showed Connor how to fold paper and make a gingerbread man paper chain.
That impressed him.
So we made paper chain snowflakes.
Paper chain snowmen.
Paper chain rockets. Yes, rockets. Connor's request.
The boy is entertaining.
So we folded, cut and paper chained all evening.
Maybe granny is a little entertaining.

The miracle of things that come out right, dreams that come true, from babies to apple pies.
Christmas nights with dreams stacked all around a perfect twinkling tree.

This is the quiet before the main event. Everything that can be done ahead is done. I can't bake rolls or make salad yet. A day of Dr appointments, clean the bathroom and library run. Coffee and chocolate. Nap and solitaire. Newspaper and book.

I can hear all through the family the rustlings of Christmas.
I'm thinking of family.

Julia is snipping and wrapping with care.
Jane is baking, she has lots of family to share.
Jean is taking it easy, or so she claims.
Art is contemplating getting out of pain.
Amber is wondering how to get it all done.
Summer is busy in a retail war zone.
Jerry is stirring and shaking Chex mix.
Cathy is shopping with visions of cruises.
Mark is giggling over Christmas surprises.
Jason and Claire are doing their bit.

Some are traveling -- all are basking
In their Christmas time loveliness.

My mind is on family as they prepare for gatherings.
As I prepare for mine...

Christmas Traditions

It's that Christmasy time of year.

Downtown is lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree, every building, crane, office, tower, deck, or window has some swag. Shopping is half done. Everyone is sniffling, coming down with or getting over the flu. If this were carbon dating we would be at half life. If this were a novel we would be at the-plot-thickens. If this were a cooking show we just put it in the oven. If this were a mountain hike we are almost to the saddle.

Ian is half way through the wrapping. His packages are a work of art. I always used as many different wrapping papers as possible, Ian uses as few as possible to be absolutely, always, tastefully coordinated. I'll send you a snapshot.

Hope, peace, joy, love reigns along with reindeer, snowmen, candy canes and jingle bells.

All those symbols and icons of Christmas, all the myriad traditions; boat parades, midnight mass, singing Christmas carols. In our growing up household no iconography dominates, no tradition endures. No train rides, carousels, tree lighting, Santa visit, not even a dependable Christmas storm.

Oklahoma with its undependable weather never cooperated in creating a tradition. Some growing up Christmas' we had enough snow to build snow forts, others we cavorted around in our shorts. No annual ice skating on the community pond for us like my friends from Boston or other chilly locals. I remember a few downtown Christmas parades, a few stunning department store windows, enough to amaze my young eyes, but nothing that qualifies as traditional. No Nutcracker ballet, winter festivals or Christmas pudding.

All the icons of Christmas we only dabbled in. I sung carols, once, with the Girl Scouts. Gingerbread houses came with adulthood, yet it is a strong growing up tradition for so many. No treasured Creche was brought down from the attic, but the three hand painted plywood choir boys came out, as did the electric window candles that mother loved beyond all reason. The Christmas tree was a cedar tree daddy cut out of the pasture and wired to a board, usually a little forlorn and lopsided, but always big. Our Christmas' didn't smell like pine or plastic, our Christmas' smelled like cedar and fudge. Mom's fudge.

Memories rise; food bakes, cooks, burbles on the stove.

Mom and Dad spending a Saturday shopping.

A child size handmade cupboard with adult sized dishes that Mom had saved from the oatmeal boxes, green I remember, a baby doll or two, a purple sweater. Aunt Josephine and Uncle Beaty blazing into town in what ever new car they were driving. Christmas Eve meant Uncle Beaty taking us for a Christmas light tour while a visit from Santa was orchestrated at home.

Family always family; aunts, uncles, grandparents, siblings, parents, in-laws. Always the constant tradition.

Christmas and shopping the hard part.
Christmas and cooking the delicious part.
Christmas and work the necessary part.
Christmas and surprises the fun part.
Christmas and family the love part.

Daddy giving us all a nickle candy bar.
School plays.
Church pageants.
Mince pies.
Divinity.
Laughter and love...

Christmas Dithering

Christmas dithering. It's that time of year. I have a list a mile long and --  the dithers.

What to get for whom. Watch this movie or that. I sit down, then hop up to do nothing in particular. It just seems wrong somehow to sit, after all there is so much to do; cards to write, packages to wrap, candy to make, a bit of shopping. Plus lots of thinking going on.

My mind is not really focusing on anything. It flits. The Monkey Brain syndrome. I think I should boil some eggs because my doctor said I needed more protein, make soup stock from my left over turkey bones, what about a musical instrument for Connor, it's between a ukulele and a roll up piano, call sisters, check fingernails, do I want a manicure today, go throw away that last piece of left over pumpkin pie, get my b-12 shot, holler for Roger to come help with a fuse so I don't kill myself days before Christmas.

And dithering about the blog -- it's family and friends time of year and I'm dithering about dithering. I rarely take part in Facebook tests and such, but here I am taking a test to see if I think like an adult or a child. Like I don't know this? My mental age is 29 if you're interested. Yeah, surprised me too. I talked to Jean who was making goodies for the family Christmas breakfast. I was a bit jealous so I started thinking about Costa Rican monkeys, the chittering kind, and a wedding practically a year away. Should I wear my Ugg boots today, should I charge my phone or clean the toilets.

What movie to buy Connor. It's between The Lego Movie and How to Train Your Dragon part Two. After all thinking about Connor is not dithering.

I read in the book The Fault in Our Stars, page 14, "You and you alone know us as we know ourselves." Shogun said we had three faces, "One for strangers, one for family and one for ourselves only." Or something like that. It's about the same thing or is this just more dithering?

I followed Lynn Burnell's Facebook post about Kabalarian philosophy and name analysis. Why am I reading this? Read Facebook, read the newspaper or read a book? I'm investing time and energy into reading about bird watching in the Pacific Northwest this winter. Why? Isn't this Julia's domain?

I'm thinking about Tal and trucks and fishing. Jeff and biking and playing. Julia's birds, Jean's cookies, Janice's crossword puzzles, Jerry's reading, Hannah's red hair, Art's achy leg, how busy work has been. Isn't retail supposed to be busy in December? Working from home, hearing aids, baby dolls, school pageants, Santa pictures, snow on the mountains, and cold, lots and lots about cold temperatures.

There is a native canoe show at the Hibulb Culture Center, Journey with our Ancestors; Coast Salish Canoes. They have a store with lots of native arts and crafts and I want to go and see if they have a beautiful, native, ethnic belt for Jerry's purse. I know he wants one.

I lost the Turkey Coloring contest at work. Mine was awesome, I just knew I had won. When I congratulated the actual winner, she said, "Your's was better." Music to my ears.

Stephanie put a post on Facebook about sharing stories/memories about ourselves through the month of December; December to Remember: I love that idea. Memories; like Lonnie trying to be gallant and carry me from the boat to dry land and dropping me in the water. Favorite Christmas movies: Love Actually and Millions.

An unfocused mind is a wistful thing...

Memories: Mother sent me a card after Little Lonnie was born with the phrase "dithering idiot." I loved that card, and yes, I have it still. Aunt Josephine was goofy about Lil' Lon, but he loved Aunt Janice best.

Love. All this dithering brings you down to the basics doesn't it? A straight line to Love. Christmas a time for family, friends and love. Claire's brother passed away five weeks after her sister. That made me think hard about family, siblings and friends. I'm sad for Claire, but I'm sad thinking of my family also as we face this in our future.

What cookies I make, or not, has little relationship to the love of the Season.

Ian's car heater went out.
Jacquie Wishnewsky and I shopped on Black Friday.
I love Chris' new car.
I'm constantly amazed by Jason's motorcycle obsession.
What can I find at Trader Joe's.
Roger went running on Thanksgiving.
 and more b-12 shots, only six more to go.

Roger told me "No" Doesn't he love me anymore? I'm not over it yet. He didn't want to put a fuse in a live electrical fuse box and said he would pay for an electrician. Maybe that is love. Tough love.

I'm a Sucker for Anything Mother

I'm a sucker for anything mother, but first a little Thanksgiving humor, culled from the children's page of my new newspaper The Everett Herald, sorry The Daily Herald:

What do you get after eating too much turkey?  Dessert!

Mothers, my Mother, your mother, mothers in general:

I'm always touched by "Mother" talk. What people's memories are. How they were mothered or mother. I love listening to what gifts and surprises are being planned for mothers at holidays, Mother's Day, birthdays. When I hear good mother talk it brings me joy. Claire had a cute Facebook post this morning about Mothering Judy. And Jackie had an answer about Mothering Claire. I love mother talk.

Two colleagues lost their mother's this year. I understand the grief and pain this causes, but also the tangent joy of remembering. Remembering the good times, the friendship, of being mothered in our youth.

I guess it's reasonable to be thinking about mothers today since my Mother died on Thanksgiving Day in 1984. Thirty years ago and she is still an important part of my life. Besides all the love and acceptance she gave me, she had a wicked, sometimes warped, sometimes silly sense of humor. Christian was conceived during a trip to Disneyland so Mother really, really wanted me to name him Mickey. Yeah, that didn't happen. Can you imagine calling Christian Mickey? An unplanned pregnancy to an unwed mother wasn't an issue, but boy it sure would be fun to call him Mickey. Yeah, she was like that.

I swear she died on Thanksgiving Day on purpose so we would be forced to be thankful -- she was like that.

I know many have complex relationships with their mothers, but I didn't, and if she had a complex relationship with her Mother she kept it hidden. She always talked about our Grandmother Gilbert in glowing terms.

Books, poems, treatise, volumes, whole libraries are written about mothers. Bad mothers to saints, every portrait has been painted and I can't paint a new one. The love we have for our mother's might even surpass the love we have for our children. As Jeff said, When a mother dies we become orphans, no matter how old we are.

But I am thinking of mothers and wish I could write a portrait of mine. No one was ambivalent about her, she was loved or disregarded in just about equal measure with nothing in-between. I feel the same way a lot. Mother was poor, fat, funny, no formal education beyond high school, creative with very limited resources, lusty, lazy, unsure of herself in some social situations, the life of the party in others. Extremely wise.

She had big ole arms and could wrap you up in comfort or love or sheer joy, sitting next to you or talking thousands of miles away. She was like that. She would whoop with delight if she scored big in Scrabble or Dominoes. Moon, I think was the name of her game. I remember that. She would glow with pride over perfect hot rolls or angel food cake, she would laugh at cooking failures, cooking collapses. She loved to experiment; dinner plate size donuts, sauerbraten, guacamole when no one had even heard of it fifty years ago. She listened as Lonnie tried to describe it and how his Mother made it by squashing it with her molcajete. All new. And she did it to be nice to Lonnie, a lonely soldier a long way from his sunny Southern California home. A long way from his Mother. That was her big ole arms wrapping someone up in comforting love. Sometimes she smuggled an alcoholic beverage into our teetotaler home for some cooking experiment. That was mother.

She loved the unlovely, the undeserving. She buried her pride and humbled herself when she had to ask for help to feed her family. I can't imagine that she ever turned anyone away from her home, table or heart. Her religious beliefs were strong but flexible. No religious tenet could keep her from doing what her heart said was right. Yes, she had a dark side. She would get depressed, lonely, feel unlovely, sad, after all she was human with all the ups and downs life has to offer, but that is not her legacy. Her legacy is love.

Like I said, she loved her mother. Mother love going back to where? Moms, where would we be without them? With a gentle touch or a handy smack, Moms make the world go round. I love loving my Mother, I love being a mother, I love being a mother who is loved.

My favorite piece of art? Michelangelo's Pieta, of course.

I'm All Abuzz

Jean flew a mercy mission, again. Thank you Jean for the Cranberry Relish recipe. I plan to make good use of it this Thanksgiving Day.

I've discovered even bad biscuits taste good on a cold, cold day, however bad pumpkin bread is bad no matter what.

I was teasing Ian early the other morning and asked him if he wanted some pumpkin bread before he left for work in thirty minutes. Little smart aleck said "Yes" knowing there was no way I could do it. When I asked I was teasing him, but then I remembered I had some left over bread in the freezer from some distant past holiday baking. I defrosted it while he showered and presented it to him as he was leaving, with a flourish, "Here is your hot pumpkin bread." He scooped it up, with a flourish, and said "I'll share it at work." Taste it first, I pleaded, it has been in the freezer for a while, make sure it is share-able.

He texted me later and said it wasn't share-able.

Bad pumpkin bread is just plain bad.

My awesome scar at my eye is disappearing. I complained to Jean that it was turning into a "cute" scar. Jean reminded me a "cute" scar was better than no scar at all. Jean is always right.

The doctor's have determined my wobbliness and tremors are probably due to low vitamin B-12. I will start a series of shots for the next six weeks. I canceled the neurologist appointment, I don't really want him poking around in my brain. I'm scared of what he will find, or not. All my other tests were sort of normal.

Jeff if you really really want a handicap-hangy-down-thing you have to be wobbly.

When I went to the medical supply place with my prescription in hand they only had an ugly black cane and an ugly grey cane. If I am going to wobble around with a cane, by golly, it is going to be interesting, I'll just buy the dern thing. Haven't yet.

I somehow wrecked a knee and it is giving me fits. About 15 years ago the doctor told me I needed to have something inside fixed, a meniscus or something like that, of course I didn't do it. Ever since, ever once in a while, it goes out of whack, but this time it seems a little more serious. Oh, woe is me. I need that cane.

My Godzilla plant apparently hates warm weather. I used to pull 20 dead leaves a day off the plant, now that it is cold I get 1 or 2. I think it's holding onto its leaves for dear life.

I bought a fricken newspaper. I have no idea why. I was in the grocery store looking at cookies, lovingly I might add, and almost ran my cart into the salesman. He said, "Whoa there partner, have I got a deal for you." I could get three months for 4.95 a month and they would give me three 5.00 grocery gift cards right then. Okay, I kinda like a newspaper, although not as much at some other family members, and it was for the Everett Herald, Mary's favorite local paper, so I said yes. I still have no idea why, but I didn't buy the cookies and my 39.00 worth of groceries was 24.00 that day. Did I win or lose?

What if you only had six months left to live? You know, the Earth will explode in six months sort of scenario. How would you spend those six months? I knew I never should have read The Last Policeman by Ben Winters. Would you go for the Bucket List, continue on, commit suicide, commit an act of revenge on a long held grievance, forgive a long held grievance?

As I pondered this it seemed to me life is like a river, I live life forward, towards my children, and their children, but this doesn't account for my friends who don't have children. They live life forward also. We won't get out of life alive, but we continue forward somehow. Actually we do all have a metaphorical asteroid heading for us personally, we won't get out of life alive, but in this novel we all go boom together. If we are all going to go boom -- what then would you do? Interesting question that I have no answer for.

I am saddened by bad things happening to good people.
Look at Buffalo.
I am really saddened by bad things happening to good people and there is nothing I can do about it but love them.

I made a comforting soup to help drive away thinking about bad things. I think I would still cook soup if an asteroid was headed my way. You will not be sorry if you make it. I found the recipe when I went through a thousand recipes some time ago. I have no idea where the recipe came from, who gave it to me, or anything else about it, but there are seven other soup recipes on that same sheet of paper and now I plan to make all of them. This is soup weather and this soup is delicious.

Savory Cheese Soup
1 large onion chopped
1 cup chopped celery
1/4 cup butter
1/4 cup flour
3/4 teaspoon dry mustard
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce, I used more
2 cups chicken broth
2 carrots chopped
1 large potato cubed
2 cups milk
3 cups shredded cheddar cheese
salt & pepper

Saute onion and celery
Stir in flour, mustard and Worcestershire until vegetables are evenly coated and mixture is bubbly.
Stir in broth, carrots, potato
Bring to boil stirring occasionally
Cook about 25 min
Add milk
Cook over medium heat until almost boiling
Do not boil
Reduce heat and add cheese
Not a heritage recipe, but absolutely yummy.

I read an article about de-cluttering your life and all it did for me was clutter up my brain. But my asteroid isn't here yet and I have some things to give away. Summer do you still collect tea sets? Are you interested in antiques, glitzy stuff, sentimental stuff, jewelry, Native American, heritage linens, hankies, turtles, frogs, clowns? Have I got a collection for you, except for a tea set, I don't think I have one of those, but I have everything else on this list. If you want some it's yours just let me know what you collect or what you would like to collect. Love you.

I found some more grapefruit scented soap and that made me happy.
I made soup.
Washed all my throw rugs.
Wrote the blog.
Planned my Thanksgiving dinner
Wrote my grocery list.
Watched a movie, La Danse.
Not bad, documentary about the Paris Opera Ballet.
Talked to Jean for a bit.
Ian told me he wanted a new iron and ironing board for Christmas.
Only Ian.
I'm buying groceries tomorrow since Ian will be available to haul them in and put them away.

Just how delightful can life be, asteroid or not.

A Silent Life

A Seattle kind of day: A spectacular moon full and quiet, a drenching rain storm blew its way through to somewhere, clouds bantered about from horizon to horizon, the sun burst forth with fierce intensity, wind picked up speed and action. It was glorious fall in all its luminosity.

A graceful interlude of silence. My quiet home, quiet time, quiet habits, my quiet life.

...and then I watched the movie World War Z.

I had breakfast with Claire, lunch with Lynn, playdate with Connor, a doctor appointment where she told me 19 more things wrong with me. One mammogram, three vaccinations, multiple vials of blood, ten tests for this and that, a handicap hang tag for wobbliness and tremors, an appointment with a neurologist for wobbliness and tremors, a prescription for a cane. Yeah, that's what I said, "You need a prescription for a cane? I thought you just walked into a store and bought one." It seems if you have a prescription insurance will pay for it -- maybe.

A cold front moved in, winter coats came out, heaters cranked up. People were driving insanely. Some days the driving seems so bad you just want to get home alive. There were accidents, cars stalled, traffic so snarled and slowed down cars started jockeying for positions, jumping lanes for a fractionally better advantage -- crazy man crazy.

And pedestrians practically knocking you over to get around, ahead, or go faster then my wobbly old gait allowed -- crazy man crazy.

I forgot today was free street parking in downtown Seattle and I paid my usual $16.00 -- crazy man crazy.

So it goes, some days are silent and some days aren't.

The day the wind blew I drove to Mukilteo Beach to watch the wave action. It was fierce. Possession Sound was covered in white caps. If you have been to Mukilteo Beach you will be amazed when I tell you the tide was so high only about four feet of beach remained above the sound. High, high, high tide and people about -- walking dogs, babies, each other. It was something to see.

Speaking of silence, I haven't heard anything since the heart doctor appointment. How is Jean?

Is it snowing where you speak?

I have a list of some foodie movies for Chris Miller, good foodie movies. And a few heritage recipes for the foodie in you.

Foodie Movie List

Big Night
Babette's Feast
Mostly Martha
  NOT the American version No Resevations
Eat, Drink, Man, Woman
  The American version isn't bad, Tortilla Soup
The Lunch Box
Dinner Rush
The Trip
El Bulli: Cooking in Progress
Jiro Dreams of Sushi
Tampopo
Ratatouille


Heritage Recipes:

Lora Gilbert's Southern Spicy Gingerbread

2 eggs
3/4 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup molasses
3/4 cup melted shortening
2 1/2 cups flour
2 teaspoons soda
2 teaspoons ginger
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon cloves
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 cup boiling water

Mix sugar, molasses, shortening
Add beaten eggs
Add dry ingredients
Add hot water
Pour greased and floured pan
Bake 350 degrees 45 minutes

Homestead Vinegar Pie Great Grandmother Gilbert's (Frank's Mother)

1/2 cup sugar
2 Tablespoons flour
Cinnamon (no amount given)
2 Tablespoons cream
3/4 cup water
2 Tablespoons vinegar

sufficient for one small pie

No other information or instructions -- good luck.

And good luck with your quiet life.

The After Reunion Blues

So, what do you do after the reunion?

All my plants are maintained. I'm back in the back-to-work routine. I'm still feeling old -- Jerry isn't. Actually I think I have felt old my whole life. Old soul, that is me, young soul, that is Jerry -- maybe.

Only 350 odd days to Karolyn's fruit salad. I keep remembering how much fun the Bacon Fest was. Remember? What a fun activity, other families can have their touch football games, or tug-o-war contest. Like some old Alabama family we have a Bacon Fest. We are an old Alabama family.

Our Grandmother, or your Great Grandmother, or even a more distant Grandmother as the case may be for some of you, came from the piney woods of Alabama. Did you know that? Where they harvested turpentine. More about turpentine later, for now;

Cessa Bama McCord remembered riding the log trains out of the piney woods of Alabama to town in the morning and then riding the empty log trains back in the evening. I mean riding on the logs, no elegant carriage for this family. Her mother spread out a quilt for them to be more comfortable on as they made the journey, no splinters or sap.

The McCord family moved to Texas when Cessa was about six. She remembered crossing the mighty Mississippi River on an old wooden trestle bridge when it was at flood stage, everything was so terrifying she thought she was going to die. None of us older generation have really fond memories of Grandmother Taylor. She lived a hard life.

She lived a hard life and I guess that makes you somewhat hard. She was very self-obsessed. Her attitude always seemed to be "What about me?" "What's in it for me?" If you spend a life with no one ever listening to you maybe that attitude can happen.

I've heard stories about her biscuits, everyone said her biscuits were lighter, fluffier, better, than anyone else's ever. My mother remembered she kept a "biscuit bowl" filled with flour and when it came time to make biscuits she just added the other ingredients to the center and worked the dough until it was the right consistency leaving an outer rim of flour, then she put her "biscuit bowl" away, still filled with flour, until the next meal when she did it all over again.

She came to Oklahoma by wagon as a young woman with four children. As much as you will hear about how hard she was, you will hear her husband was harder. More about Grandfather Taylor another time. She told me he was never courageous enough to do anything but sharecrop cotton fields even though she begged him to lease land outright so he could take the full profit for his labors, he never did.

When she started sewing for a living as a widow she preached never, never, never undervalue yourself, and she never did. She could make a perfectly fitting garment from measurements, she liked a fitting but she didn't need a fitting. She made her grandchildren wedding dresses, graduation dresses, bedspreads, linens. She was good. She made fancy clothing for fancy ladies practically until the day she died.

She was a survivor.

She loved attention, loved to travel, loved flowers, loved gifts, loved to grow things, she could grow anything. She hoarded rainwater in an old fashioned rain barrel to water her plants with, she would never use diseased city water for her plants, for her flowers. She stood at the kitchen counter to eat her meals, why bother, she said, to sit down. She walked herself about her small towns or took a bus to go farther afield.

So if you are tough, courageous, ornery, a little bit self-obsessed, or a survivor you come by it honestly. And she is just one old broad on your family tree, be scared, be very scared. That is your ancestor, Cessa Bama McCord.

The McCords were Scotts who settled in the Southern states -- I don't know how they got to Alabama.

Now about that turpentine.

Grandmother probably lived in the swampy areas where the Loblolly pine grew, or Pinus taeda for the more serious minded. The primary uses of turpentine were as a solvent used in thinning oil-based paints and producing varnishes or mixed with beeswax to make a fine furniture protective coating over oiled wood finishes. Both uses are now mostly replaced by oil based products.

Turpentine was used as a cheaper fuel for those who couldn't afford whale oil.  It was used medicinally for lice, chest ailments, internal parasites, an antiseptic, a diuretic, however internal use of this toxic product is no longer in use today. Turpentine went with Ferdinand Magellan's fleet during his first circumnavigation of the globe.  And get this Jason, in 1946 Soichiro Honda used turpentine as a fuel for the first Honda motorcycles as gasoline was almost totally unavailable following World War II, and yes it was used to make those cheap gin drinkable spirits you have all heard about.


It takes a village; Yesterday was a three son day;

Ian in the morning, making sure I felt okay, how was my eye/stitches, what were my plans for the day, did I need anything before he left and he gave stern instruction to be careful, drive careful, walk careful. All the carefuls he could put in one sentence.

Christian at lunch time; Claire and I were meeting for breakfast but she couldn't find her car keys so I drove to Ballard and picked her up for our Wednesday morning breakfast. I hadn't seen her for a month due to one conflict after another, anyway I don't drive to Ballard without doing a Christian drive-by. After breakfast we are tootling down 15th and Claire said, "Christian gave me gold star service the other day when I was getting my oil changed. I swear it didn't take him five minutes, if it had been anyone but Christian I would have been suspicious. You should get your oil changed."

So I did.

The shop wasn't swamped and Christian started working on my car and he worked and worked and worked. Hmmm, Claire had service in five minutes, what's up? Well it seems Christian noticed one of my car lights was out, he replaced that. He noticed some of my liquid levels were low, he topped those off. He changed my oil, replaced my filter, checked all he could check and delivered the car back to me. I said well Claire was just bragging on her gold star service, he said you got platinum level service.

Roger came by for a little plumbing help on his way home from work. I had a gusher under the kitchen sink and asked him to bring a big wrench. In no time at all he had the kitchen sink tightened, adjusted, fixed, and performing like a kitchen sink drain should perform -- no puddles left behind.

No Connor playdate yesterday though due to the aforementioned plumbing experience. Connor and I will play today.

Julia called me on her birthday to chat and to tell me how much she appreciated the Family Blog. I got teary. My friend Mary left a message on my answering machine about how much she appreciated my sense of humor over my Mohs surgery on FB. I got teary. Janice left a comment on my FB post about the surgery. I don't think Janice has ever left a post on FB before. I got teary. Isn't it amazing that kindnesses makes us teary?

I am now oozing love for everyone.

Hey, as long as I am oozing love, how is Cathy feeling besides being happy to be home? Claire asked me which knee still needed the wound care, the hematoma knee or the cyst knee and damned if I knew. I never even thought to ask. Which one Cathy?

This isn't a heritage recipe, but I wanted New Chris to have it. You may have it also, it is delicious, fun and different.

Ginger Lemonade

2 cups water to make a strong tea
3 black tea bags
1 1/3 cups ginger simple syrup
2/3 cup fresh lemon juice, about 3 lemons
1 cup sparkling water or club soda

syrup
1 cup sugar
1 cup water
1 (2-inch) piece fresh ginger peeled and chopped
Bring to boil, reduce heat, simmer about 5 minutes until all the sugar has dissolved
Strain before using

Make tea the usual way, add ginger simple syrup, lemon juice and sparkling water.
Garnish with fresh lemon slices
Fun-tastic

And that is pretty much my life after Greenleaf. Payday, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and then soon, soon, Greenleaf. How about yours?

Jerry there is room at the Inn at Mukilteo for the month of April. Reservation confirmed.

According to my friend Lynn this is Samhain time of year, a time to honor ancestors among other things. I guess that makes talking about Cessa even more appropriate.

Jan, a Few Corrections, If I May

Jan, a few corrections, if I may. You talked about us getting old. I was walking through the house the other day and thought to myself, I have never in my life felt old. On a few occasions, I have thought how could this be happening to someone as young as me. The bones ache, the knees hurt, the back is sore most of the time, my toes are numb, my fingers lock up, working all day in the yard is entirely out of the question, I get out of breath easily, my eyesight is not what it used to be (blind in the dark), reflexes slowed down, have trouble sleeping, artificial hearing, but I have never felt old. And thank God I can still drive. I mentioned to Jane if I lost 100 lbs I would think of myself as being invincible. And probably hurt myself. So if you want to talk about being old, leave me out of the conversation. I intend to die young. (Sorry Jan, Joe said it was to late for you) You said I decreed you march up the hill and help Karolyn chop fruits and vegetables. That is not at all how the conversation went. We were talking about Thanksgiving dinner and it was hard and time consuming getting everything prepared. I offered a few suggestions to make it easier. Green bean casserole out, a couple of cans of green beans warmed up. Homemade dressing out, Stovetop in. They make a variety of flavors. (Just don’t add turkey spam, we tried that going to Alaska, not good) Mashed potatoes, instant, or KFC sells them by the gallon. Gravy included. I have never met Mrs Smith but she makes fine pies as does Wal-Mart. Cranberry salad, lets go with cranberry sauce. Turkey and ham, put in the crock pot and forget. These time savers would allow the other campers to help Karolyn chop fruits and vegetables for her outstanding, award winning fruit salad. This is the actual conversation. Hauling the bags. I can still haul the bags, Slowly, slowly, slowly. See paragraph 1. Wiener Princess You got that part right. If ever a dog won the lottery, it was Elle. Worthless, no good, pain in the butt, noisy, snoring, takes up the whole bed (thats a stretch) Elle. The Skaget Valley Tulip Festival I would like a reservation at the Carrillo Bed and Breakfast for the month of April 2015. Party of 2, maybe 3.

Waking up at Greenleaf

"Jan, do you know what you did today?" Jeff gleefully asked me as I sat down at the camp fire circle.
"No, Jeff, what did I do?"
"You woke up at Greenleaf."

He gleefully pulled that one off on everyone who woke up at Greenleaf. Waking up at Greenleaf can mean waking up to rain, fog, wind, brilliant sunshine and family, lots of family.

The siblings have landed.

Waking up at Greenleaf meant;
More sunshine than rain.
More dogs than kids -- seven to ten.
More bacon than fish.
More turkeys than deer.
More playing than fighting.
More sitting than walking -- except for Mike and Kathy.
More stories, more reminiscing, more coffee on the porch.
More Bailey's, more Mimosas.
More aging of the family -- thank goodness.
More feasts to consume.
Thanksgiving dinner and The Bacon Fest were huge successes.
More fishing by Tal and Mike than badmitton.
More fish fry than, well, just more fish fry. Thanks Mike, Tal, and whom ever else was involved in that delicious activity.

More cooks with the addition of Chris Miller, whom you can now call Chris Miller or The Millerman, or the New Chris, or Mr Nora, or Chewbacca. Yes, it seems his family nickname is Chewbacca or Chewie or Bacca. He is now officially a family member, poor soul. Due to his love of all things Star Wars Lynn said if Nora didn't marry him she would. So, sorry gals, Chis is taken. Twice.

More fire, more glow sticks, more pumpkin patch, more fishing poles.
More dentistry. Now I ask you what other family can bring their own dentist to the rescue of a loose crown? Cabin/campfire dentistry at its best. Give Cara a beer and a pocketknife and she will get it done.

The biggest surprise was Chris Daley showing up at 10 PM Friday night. He brought a smile to everyone's face especially Jean and Brittany. I don't know who was more surprised, me standing there dumbfounded in my underwear, or Jean and Brittany as they woke their sleepyheads up. They had told everyone Chris would not be coming. He had a new job, he was working too many hours, he had a wedding to go to. Well SURPRISE, Chris arrived with a big ole happy smile on his face.

The ones not there were greatly missed; The Brits, always, seeing some of Josephine's family would be nice, Taylor busy in Texas, Cathy still recuperating in Select Specialties Hospital in Oklahoma City, the Andrews, Jacquie and Dan, Christian and Ian -- who promise to go next year -- who promise to go next year. Anybody have a cabin up for grabs?

Cathy wasn't there but she sure had a pack load of goodies for the kiddies; glow sticks, Superman cups, and lots of love wafting over the campground. Next year Cathy, next year.

All of Marc's family arrived one at a time. Jackson was a superhero to all the little ones. They followed him like Ellie follows Jane. Jackson was tender, rough, fast, quick, taller, and more fun than all the rest of us put together.

Maddie and Avery got to travel home together not separated as threatened by Cara. They must have done something good. Everyone's pumpkin carvings were outstanding.

A special moment was when Michael raced up the road to ask, "Are you Connor?" and off they went. Michael showing Connor all the reunion ins and outs. With his reunion expertise, age and wisdom, he could direct Connor to where the playground was, where the bathrooms were, where the goodie box resided. Michael is so bouncy, bubbly, friendly and fearless he could take over this reunion by the time he is twelve.

Summer's gentleman caller, Ed, was fearless as well as he made an appearance in the midst of all the family hub-bub. Fearless and a very tender gesture towards Summer. I didn't get to know Ed, but I think it was brave and sweet. I think love is in the air. Next year Ed, next year we will sit down and talk.

A not so special moment was when the whole family, THE WHOLE FAMILY, cheated and helped Chis with his so-you-want-to-marry-Nora test. I think everyone wants Chis in the clan and cooking had nothing to do with it. Neither the eight hour chili nor the peach cobbler, both cooked over the campfire, nor any of his other delicious concoctions. Welcome Chris welcome.

Besides we need some new young blood to "haul the bags" Jerry is getting kinda old. Julia is willing but keeps wounding herself.

How is the ankle birthday girl? How is the birthday girl?

Besides Julia helping before she wounded herself, the biggest help probably is a multi-tie between Marc when he was the youngest Taylor there among-est all us seventy somethings, Jeff the youngest sibling -- And Jake. Jake worked, helped, toted, carried, delivered, lifted, moved, and, And, AND manager-ed the biscuits. Jean wasn't feeling 100 % so Jake took over the pans and monitored, baked, and delivered the biscuits, all eighty of them, to the Saturday breakfast. Good job Jake, good job. You made all of our lives better by your generous helping and all I did was buy you a bag of ice.

The best tarter sauce ever made for a fish fry was Mary Lee's as she made a mad dash up to a cabin to fetch it. Unbeknownst to me she made a mad dash up to a cabin to MAKE it, collecting mayonnaise, pickles, mustard and any ingredient she thought she would need as she raced by. Don't believe her when she says it wasn't that good. It might not of been her best, or perfect, or win any food awards but believe me when I tell you it was awesome. Never was anything ever made with more love. And she got to use her new handy dandy food chopper she had just bought in Muskogee to make cranberry relish.

Remember when Marc went to town and bought a blender to make salsa. Ahh the memories of Greenleaf, how they tumble and flitter about. Remember when Mike was a sweetheart instead of a husband of 23 years? Remember when Cara brought the flavor-of-the-month? Remember when Clark was a baby? Remember when Jean cooked biscuits in James' 40 man tent wood burning cook stove? Remember when Janice was less bossy? Oh right, that never happened. Remember pushing Steve up poop-out hill? Yeah those days are gone.

Kenny stayed in OKC with Cathy, attending to her every need. I got a big ole fat hug when we went to visit Cathy. Roger and Stephanie got the use of Cathy's car after Kenny had cleaned it, washed it, and gassed it up. Kenny is good to Cathy, good to Jean, good to Roger and Stephanie, good to me, and outstanding to Dax. Dax is his favorite.

The night of a big storm I was sitting on the "promenade deck" (Jean's porch) smoking and had an Oklahoma lightening show for 180 degrees. It was something to see, 7, 10, 22 lightening flashes going on at the same time. Luckily that storm pretty much missed the campground, however the next storm did not and Jerry had to carry the wiener princess Ellie up the hill under his rain jacket.

More special requests for next year; Oktoberfest. Hot dogs one night, hot links one night, and brats the third. I think we have a go on that mission.

Jackson made a special request to Jean for more cookies. Jackson you will not be disappointed by the cookie lady two reunions in a row.

Jan's special request; give New Chris Saturday night for him to cook to his heart's content. We will eat it and maybe not judge his fire building abilities too much.

Connor was the only kid that I remember not being fascinated by the fire, he kept moving back instead of closer. Jeff said, "Finally, after all these years, a kid with some brains." I love you Jeff.

Have family will travel as we made a few more memories. The year sweethearts abounded.

Michael was gregarious, Branson was perfect. For Connor everything was new, he learned to run the hillside with multiple glow things, participate in playground mayhem in the dark all the while keeping an eye out for spiders and snakes. Oh my.

Nora do you remember what to get your dad for Christmas?
Chris I will send you a list of "foodie" movies. To watch or not.
Jerry The Skagit Valley Tulip Festival is the month of April.
Kenny I will try to photograph the wee little lock and forward.
Mike I would like to see the video you made for Dale's memorial if possible.
Mary Lee the recipe for Southwest Stuffed Orange Roughy is on its way.
Jean don't forget I want the recipe for Spaghetti Salad.
Cara the name of the book is In The Lake of The Woods by Tim O'Brien. Very good.
Jean has an appointment with the heart doctor on Oct 30. Yay!
All my bills and pills are taken care of.
My hearing aids have been adjusted to 100%.
My face has been scraped off.
I think it was about 59 stitches, some will melt some won't.
Surface stitches come out Nov 5.

Traveling to family reunion I saw a shifting weather change pattern.
In Seattle all the shirts were Seahawk blue and green.
In Denver I noticed a lot of bright orange.
When I landed in Oklahoma the weather had turned red, Red, RED.

And ad-mist all the good food, I think my favorite is still the Tomato Gravy, thanks Jane.

However here is Mary Lee's recipe for Pecan Bacon Bites, a close second.

Pecan Bacon Bites

1/2 pound bacon
freshly ground black pepper
1 Tbsp Worcestershire sauce
1/2 cup cream cheese
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup pecans bits
4 slices rye bread toasted

Mix brown sugar, pepper, pecans and sprinkle over bacon.
Cook bacon 375 degrees, 20/25 minutes.
Spread cream cheese on toast that has been cut into quarters.
Top with bacon bites.
Smile and be happy.

Jean's observation on a side note: Kathy's clan is starting to outnumber anyone else's. Jerry and Jane had 12, Jean, Julia, Jeff and I had 4 each, wait Jeff had five including Ed. Janice and Art 2. Kathy and Mike had 10 -- if I counted right -- I feel like someone is missing. NOT including everyone's dogs.

Karolyn Taylor -- you are invited, welcomed, and expected next year, and remember Jerry has decreed we all march up the hill and help you chop fruits and vegetables for your now multi-channel, family-famous, delicious, hands-down-winner, what-would-we-do-without-it, Fruit Salad. Thank you for being a blessing.

And The 31st Taylor Family Reunion at Greenleaf is only 350 some odd days away.

Have Family Will Travel

I'm flying off to Oklahoma for our 30 year reunion celebration. That's almost half my life. It is all of some of our family members live's, I'm thinking Summer here our official camp fire hostess. Now that is an investment in family, love, attention, affection. Toddlers to weddings, divorces and deaths and it is still happening; wee Tripp and Branson are not so wee anymore. New family making new memories that is what it is all about. Connor is coming and bringing his staff.

Nora's engaged to The Millerman, The New Chris, by the way Chris your passage into the family will be waiting for you; your very own pass-the-test-or-else Treasure Hunt. You may have all the assistants you need if they are under the age of ten. Be prepared at the Bacon Fest Friday morning. After the bacon fest after, nothing interferes with the bacon fest.

What a difference thirty years can make. I can remember when I would travel any distance for any reason, but after "traveling" for the cruise I thought I don't want to "travel" anymore, too old, too tired, too much work, too much discomfort. It's not worth it. Until Jerry reminded me, "Jan, the day will come when we can't do it." How true. That day will come, probably sooner than we anticipate or expect. So, travel I will. Have Family -- will travel. How many remember that old TV show? I will do what is becoming increasingly unnatural. Travel. I'll join the herd and herding at the airport into the welcoming arms of family for the 30th Taylor Family Reunion. Amber promises Mark's t-shirt design is awesome. How could it be anything else? I'm glad he passed the test.

The gathering of the tribes has already commenced and I have hours to go before I get there. New Chris and Jake will be there, Cathy and Kenny will not. Roger and Stephanie will be there, Jacquie and Dan will not. Mike and Kathy will be there, Lynn will not. Mary Lee will be there, Verla will not. ...and all us old fogies will be there having coffee on Jean's porch every morning we are able to crawl out of bed and be there. Present and accounted for.

Julia will be walking, Tal will be fishing, I don't know who will be biking, hiking, kayaking. I will be sitting somewhere smoking. Give me a smoking bench and I am happy. You will hear about Cathy's cruise drama, Nora's trip to Mexico, Michael's biking prowess, how cute Tripp is, meet Summer's new dog, You will see what Branson can get into, how much Avery has grown and Ellie May has mellowed.

Now I don't expect respect, but I do expect coffee and goodies from Jean, mimosas from Nora or Chris -- whichever, a camp chair from Jeff, some guff from the curmudgeons, cigarettes from Tal, a feeling of inferiority from Andrew, he always out reads and out guns me, love from everyone under twenty-three and hugs from everyone. I will also be expecting some chat, laughs, fire, smiles, food, rain, some sport game somewhere, a fish fry, okra, a map reading or two, and, and, and.

Family. A different kind of tribe, herd. A stretch of personalities as old as time. Family faces, family places deep into a genetic aquifer of connections. Deep into an inner space of connections, a universe of connections. A surface jello of connections -- hmm -- maybe I had better stop there.

Welcome to our world Chris Miller welcome to our world.

Heritage Recipe

Mom's, Granny's, Maxine's Noodles 

Separate 4 eggs, use yolks only
4 Tablespoons cream
1/2 teaspoon salt - please use less times have changed
1 cup flour

Mush, mix until you have a stiff dough, roll thin on a floured surface, when you think it is thin enough, it isn't, roll it thinner. It should be papery thin. Then roll up jellyroll fashion, cut and toss so you have thin papery noodles ready for the broth of your choice, but it had better be chicken broth or Granny will haunt you.

Welcome to our world, now go make some noodles.

Just say "No"

I was reading, "Always work on your strengths." And I thought. "No"

"No" I'm done. "No" I don't want to work on my strengths or anything else for that matter. Hey, I'm as good as I'm going to get. No more "working" on strengths, higher power, self-improvement. If this isn't good enough then I'm doomed anyway. There comes a point in life where you just need to accept what is, and this is my point, this is it. It seems as though I have spent several hundred years "working" to improve myself in someway or other.

I've improved my reading, selling, prayer activity, creativity, adventure quotient, parenting skills, meditation time, cooking, dressing, weight loss, make-up arts, toenail care, spirituality, romance, and others too numerous to remember. Over and done! I just said "No."

I'm happy as I am.

Happy Birthday to Jerry; our very own survivor. Either Jane won't let him go or somebody up there doesn't want him. Either way happy 7-0. I read in an article about inherited health woes, "Family history can stick to you like old gum to a shoe." Ain't it the truth.

I noticed in photography that waiting for the right light is a lot like waiting for whales, you have to be patient.

Do you have a nest? Is there an improvement book for a "proper" nest? I have three; my main nest by my couch sitting place and two mini-nests, one at bedside the other by the computer. Nest are lovely things. Everything at your fingertips; nail file, scissors, lip-balm, reading material, usually three or four books, a newspaper or two, appointment book, to-do-list, hand lotion, letters that need attending to -- someday, current photograph of The Connorman, and in my case; cigarettes, ashtray and lighter.

Nests are such comfortable places, all organized and efficient. Safe places, everything resting so quietly until needed. Fun places for making plans and dreaming. Nests are busy places for napping, reading, writing, thinking. Nests can be used for mental exploration, map reading, education, communication.

What would the world be without the solitude and wonderment of a good nest.

I finished the book Norwegian by Night in my nest. What a wonderful book, I recommend it, but I particularly liked this quote, somewhat shortened;

"...the eternal dialogue for meaning and purpose and expression, a compulsion to render the world explicable." vs "..letting it be, letting it move through, submitting to silence, to come to terms with humanity as it presents itself, an ever expanding capacity to face what comes next, to see it clearly."

One an act of will vs the other, a process of life.

Page 19, Norwegian by Night by Derek B Miller about an old man on the lam with a young boy he can't communicate with, each with their own demons to carry. A smart, funny, sad, interesting thriller of a book. Each character was smart, funny, sad, interesting and some were very scary.

Another quote from a book I'm reading, in my nest, recommended by the birthday boy, The Semi-Attached Couple, free on-line written a long time ago. In the novel this poem is attributed to an author Hannah More, I don't know if this is a real author or a figment of the novelist imagination, but the poem is good:

"Since trifles make the sum of human things
And half our misery from trifles springs --
Oh! let the ungentle spirit learn from thence
A small unkindness is a great offence."

Wishing Jerry a happy birthday.
Cathy a get well soon and please make it to Greenleaf.
Thinking on what to bring to Greenleaf Thanksgiving dinner.

Two heritage recipes

Great Grandmother Foster's White Cake

1 1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup shortening
1 cup milk
2 1/2 cup flour
2 teaspoon baking powder
4 egg whites
1 teaspoon vanilla

mix as usual for a cake, bake 350 for 30 minutes

Great Grandmother Foster's Jam Cake

2 cups sugar
1 cup butter
3 eggs
2 teaspoon baking powder
3 cups flour
1 teaspoon soda in 1 cup sour cream
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon allspice
2 cups blackberry jam

mix as usual for a cake, bake 350 for 45 min

I'm done, not much happening in my nest today.

Inspiration

Looking for inspiration.

People seem to have a desire, a craving actually to see some wildlife. I notice it at Greenleaf State Park where 25 people will gather to view wild turkeys or deer. There were a hundred folks trying to glimpse the black bear silently ambling through the woods at Mendenhall Glacier with bus loads more coming. Twenty-two hundred people on the cruise ship looking for a whale, a sea otter or other wildlife. Everyone looking for inspiration.

This seems a huge disconnect somehow. I'm torn between sadness and appreciation of this human desire. My mixed emotions compounded by the sense that if the observer didn't get a photograph it didn't happen. As the family and I sat and watched the sea on the promenade deck people would pop-out and ask, "Do you see any whales?" One lady asked so many times I finally told her, "It takes patience to whale watch." Other people would pop-out, ask about wildlife and then tell you about the "shot" they got. So: wanting to see a wild animal, compounded by wanting a photograph to prove it, compounded by a lack of discipline to sit and wait for it, results in my semi-sadness over the disconnect -- somehow.

I wondered about the ports we stopped at with their Alaskan charm and wondered how hard the locals had to fight to protect that charm. Do they have to fight off condo and resort builders or is it recognized that it is the low key charm that produces more tourist trade, more tourist trade stability, more success catering to all us lower 48 inhabitants looking for inspiration.

Other inspirational charms: Jean and Cathy.

Jean is busy "flying mercy missions" once again, for Roger and Stephanie, for Janice, for Jan. Jean found discounted tickets for the Carrillo Clan. Jean arranging oxygen concentrater for Janice, it seems it won't be delivered to the State Park anymore. Jean changing Jan's airline ticket so she can fly home with the afore mentioned Carrillo Clan. Jean rearranging cabins and reservations. Whew.

Cathy arranging for a cabin and a car for Roger and Stephanie. She traded the smaller cabin that Jeff was holding for me, so they could have the larger cabin with a view that she was holding for herself. Plus she will supply the vehicle for them to travel in and drive for the duration. Whew.

How to inspire, nurture, and enrich children, lifted from The Sno-Isle Library home page; Talking, Reading, Playing, Singing, Writing. How simple is that?

Also lifted from The Sno-Isle Library home page; Celebrate Banned Books Week. In 2013 there were 307 challenges to books, everything from 50 Shades of Grey to The Hunger Games, with "The Captain Underpants" series for kids leading the list, along with the other characters Poopypnats and Tinkletrousers. Go be naughty, read a banned book.

Inspired Cookery; if you are like me sometimes cooking inspiration is low to non-existent. Well I have stumbled on a magnificent cure. I was looking for a few certain recipes and started going through fifty years of clipped, written, scribbled, tore out, or jotted down recipes. It was a gold mine of inspiration, now I just hope I live long enough to cook a portion of these forgotten treasures.

I also culled out a grocery sack of garbage and my kitchen is lighter and better for it. Several categories emerged like; still interesting but I will never make it -- into the trash. I did keep my Turducken Recipe Janice sent me in 1990. Then there was the "What in the hell is this and why did I keep it?" catagory -- into the trash. Although Jane and Julia I still have the recipes you guys sent me once: Fladchensuppe (pancake soup) and Leberklobchensuppe (liver dumpling soup), after all you never know. I couldn't get rid of those. And I kept the recipe Amber so kindly clipped for Sweet and Sour Liver. Thanks Amber, not the gem I was looking for, but I couldn't throw it away. Another category was the recipes I had eighteen copies of because I love them so much, like my 1966 Magic Bar Cookie recipe that I think I re-clipped every year at Christmastime since about 1966. Most of the copies went into the trash, but I couldn't toss them all. I also kept recipes in the handwriting of ones I loved; Mom, Aunt Josephine, Aunt Imo, Ms Carrillo. Lovely handwriting and lovely recipes given with love.

Heritage recipes is what I was looking for and I found a bunch that I will start including in future blogs. If anyone wants mom's recipe for lye soap or her egg noodles they are coming. But for today:

Aunt Nadine's Fresh Coconut Cake

1 box yellow cake mix, 2 8 or 9 inch round pans, baked and split
filling between each layer, reserve some for top
1 box (8 oz) sour cream
1 box (16 oz) powdered sugar
12 oz fresh coconut shredded, can use frozen
1 teaspoon vanilla
frost
12 oz cool whip
add reserved filling mixture on top


Jean I didn't find the recipe I thought I had for the fondant filling to stuff Christmas dates with. I think it is this one but I'm not 100% sure now, after all I am almost as old as you.

Grandmother Gilbert's Caramel Cream

2 cups granulated sugar
1 cup cream, the real stuff
1/3 cup Karo syrup
1/2 cup butter, the real stuff
2 Tbls flour
1 Tbls cornstarch

Boil sugar, half of cream and syrup a few minutes, then add rest of cream slowly so as to keep the mixture boiling. Boil until thick then add butter, flour, and cornstarch that have been creamed together. Continue to boil until thick again then add vanilla and nuts. No amounts for vanilla and nuts were included.

Version A. add 3 Tbls coco with sugar to make fudge, use pecans
Version B. In the white fudge add 1/2 cup black walnuts or 3/4 cup roasted peanuts. I hope you don't have to pick the black walnuts, there was a job I hated as a kid.
Version C. Substitute 1 cup brown sugar for one of the cups of white sugar use English walnuts


 Date Loaf Candy 

3 cups sugar
1 cup milk
1 package dates
1 cup nuts
1 Tbls butter

Cook sugar and milk to soft ball. Add dates and cook until medium hard. Remove from fire and beat until stiff. Pour into large wet towel, roll to shape. Slice. Soft ball is about 235 degrees, hard ball about 260 degrees. I can't do it by feel or dropping in cold water like our ancestors did, I need a candy thermometer.


...and Two cookie recipes for Jane, better then liver soup I bet.

Single Chocolate Chip Cookie

1 Tbls butter melted
1 Tbls white sugar
1 Tbls brown sugar
3 drops vanilla
teeny pinch salt
1 egg yolk
1/4 cup flour
2 Tbls chocolate chips

Microwave 40-60 seconds in cup or bowl


Peanut Butter Cookies  

1 cup peanut butter
1 cup sugar
1 egg

Bake carefully because they burn easily
10 min @ 350 degrees

"To meet, to know, to love -- and then to part, is the sad tale of many a human heart." ST Coleridge

I'll see what you are cooking soon. Hey, are we still going to do the Bacon Fest on Friday morning at 11 am at Kathy and Mike's campfire?

Be inspired -- Love to all

Jean's 75th Birthday Cruise

Okay, I'll get what I hated out of the way.

I hated:
The aspect of a cruise ship that was reminiscent of The Mall of America or The Home Shopping Network. I came to the sea to see the sea and it wasn't always easy with 3000 other travelers and lots of bingo, dancing, auctions, shopping, spas, nightclubbing, enrichment courses, cooking lessons, boutiques and much much more.

What I liked:
I liked looking for the aurora borealis, I didn't see it but I liked looking for it on the 15th deck of a big ship sailing silently through the night. I liked looking for whales, sea otters, mountain goats, bears, eagles and watching other family members looking for whales, sea otters, mountain goats, bears, and eagles. I liked coming upon family at the Horizon Court or sharing a bench with them on the promenade deck and sea and wildlife watching with them. Deck seven, towards the aft, on the starboard side was my smoking place.

I liked pondering how many hats had blown into the sea from arctic winds whistling around. I liked the size and shape of the bathrooms. I liked Amber swimming, Cathy shopping, Jerry scanning with his binoculars, Jane enjoying every form of seafood possible, and Jean sitting quietly.

What I loved:
I loved sailing. I loved sailing on a ship. I loved sailing on a big ship. I loved sleeping on a gently rocking ship in the middle of a fairly calm sea. I loved the weather. Imagine the best, most stunning, most glorious weather imaginable and that was our weather; brilliant, mild, beautiful. No eighteen layers of clothing was needed to keep warm. Some of our party had several layers, but they were the light weight layers not the intense layers. I loved my Alaskan bag Julia and the Bowman family bought for me on their Alaskan cruise. I carried it everyday everywhere. I loved empty decks and smoking benches. I loved Jean sitting quietly

I loved coffee with family, midnight strolls along empty decks, meeting and talking to people. I loved 3000 people having a good time, people talking in the elevators, hallways, around the buffet, at lunch tables, Sharing stories, lives, space; more or less gently. I didn't hear a single argument or disagreement. I loved how sweet an officer of the ship smelled when he walked by, the deck swabbing at 5 AM. I loved Jean sitting quietly.

I loved the courtesy and efficiency of the staff. My bed prepared with a chocolate treat. The pampering. The staff continually inquiring, "Do you need anything?" "Is everything okay?" "Did you enjoy the day?" "What can I get for you?"

I loved watching Jerry and Amber vibrate with excitement and joy. Cathy's shopping excursions, dinner with the family, the dining room wait staff that had my ice tea with a straw at the table before I even sat down practically. I loved the interesting food, the Twisted Fish dinner in Juneau where I over ordered but didn't over eat. I loved Jane sharing her love and expertise with all the family and strangers when needed. I loved Amber running errands, doing tasks, jumping up and saying "I'll do that." And Jane eating more seafood -- crab legs the length of an arm. And Jean's quiet contentment.

I loved Jean's ability to make her way on foot, with her cane and slight wobble, everywhere she wanted to go. Up to the Horizon buffet Court or down to the dinning room or out to Jan's smoking bench. Jean made her way slowly carefully everywhere. Janice had ordered her an electrical scooter, but Cathy used it due to her needs with her bum knees, otherwise we would have had to carry Cathy to medical every day, and NO one wanted to do that.

I loved meeting and chatting with staff at the smoking areas as they dashed out for a quick smoke; chefs, the junior assistant food and beverage manager, the deck officer. I asked him what a deck officer did and he said drive the ship. I asked if it was on auto pilot as he smoked -- he laughed. I said I thought the captain drove the ship, he said no the captain only drives the ship when it is docking. The captain did a fine job of docking.

I don't think I went on an Alaskan cruise, or a whale watching cruise, or a bear watching cruise. I went on a tourist/staff/people watching cruise. It was pretty geriatric. I think the average age hovered around 62. There were more grey headed folks then I have ever seen in one place at one time. Folks with canes, walkers, wheel chairs, oxygen, scooters. We noticed one mother and her wheelchair bound daughter sharing the cruise experience all over the ship. They were wonderful to watch; laughing, eating, and whale watching. I never saw them without smiles. I loved all the smiles and laughing on board. The three most interesting t-shirts I noticed were Azle Texas (Cara), Eskimo Joe's, and Camp David. I don't think many people could  own a Camp David shirt. I'm still wondering about that. I saw an employee carrying a small bird cupped in her hands walking the length of the promenade deck early one morning. I still wonder about that, where she was going to release a bird at 5:00 AM in the morning in the middle of the sea.

Insomniac that I am at 1:30 AM I saw the nightclub revelers laughing their way back to their cabins. At 2:30 AM it was me and the cleaning staff. At 4:30 AM it was me, the cleaning staff and the other old men insomniacs wandering the ship. At 5:30 AM it was me, the cleaning staff, the other old men insomniacs and the early morning coffee drinkers looking for that first cup. And Jean resting quietly through it all.

Watching Jerry was fascinating as he connected the dots between the history books he has read, history lessons, history documentaries, history articles. Connecting the dots from what he has read to what he saw to what he figured out; land masses, water ways, animals, nothing escaped his notice.

Jean's 75th Birthday Alaskan Family Rolling Cruise Circus was everything; drama, crisis, beauty, shopping, loving, laughing, crying, a bit of drinking. Ask Amber about the lemon drink, the wine, the Baileys and coffee, the Bloody Mary's. Cathy had 100.00 in her casino account when she was whisked off the ship. Jane retrieved that. I don't think Jane and Amber won much.

We started with a submarine sighting at our first sit down dinner and ended with a whale sighting at our last sit down dinner. There were fishing boats, cruise boats, ferry boats, sail boats, excursion boats -- all fascinating. We saw things we may never see again. As we sailed out of Glacier Bay I saw a small lone fishing boat out on the icy waters and it made my heart stand still; at the beauty, the danger, the life, the romance of something I know nothing about.

I know nothing about the nautical life, or the fishing life, or the living in Alaska life, but I do know the cruise was wondrous, spiritual. Glacier Bay felt Holy. Time literally slowed down on the cruise. I loved traveling 2328.17 miles at sea. I think I could sit on a sailing ship and watch the sea forever.

And Jean sat quietly, contentedly, mostly at peace through it all.

How Jean's 75th Birthday Cruise became Cathy's Wild Ride

Cathy was sad, Cathy was mad, Cathy was crying, Cathy fell, Cathy was disappointed, Cathy was hot, Cathy was slow, Cathy was fast, Cathy was hurt, Cathy went to the ship's Doctor, Cathy shopped until she dropped. So Cathy was voted off the island -- and we all sailed off and left her at the hospital in Ketchikan Alaska.

...With two, Two, TWO hurt knees, rheumatoid arthritis, raging infection, compromised immune system, a hematoma in one knee and an infected cyst on the other, with the Doctor suggesting a hospital visit in Juneau and insisting in Ketchikan, Cathy was abandoned.

Cathy was escorted off the ship by the youngest and most able and most mobile family member, Amber. Cathy was met by an official car and an OFFICIAL from the Port Authority and whisked to emergency. The main fear was the rampant infection overwhelming her weakened immune system. You know, the stuff that kills you.

What a wild ride. Cathy had been going to the ship Doctor once or twice a day to try to get ahead of the issues and to try to continue enjoying her cruise. Sadly her cruise ended.

Jean was sad, Jean was crying, Jean fell, Jean was disappointed, Jean was slow, Jean was overwhelmed by grief and decisions that had to be made in hours. Jean couldn't stay due to her physical limitations, Jane and Amber were willing to stay because of their caring and medical expertise, Jerry and Jan were pretty worthless. The ship was supposed to sail at noon, the Port Authority assured Amber HE and only HE had the final say on when the ship left and that it wouldn't leave without her, or rather without his, well, without his authority, but still decisions had to be made.

It seems as though Cathy travels with some kind of angel sitting around. She traveled with a nurse, a hospital executive, her travel agent, and boat loads of caring folks. PLUS she traveled with Travel Guard Insurance -- don't leave home without it.

Travel Guard would take care of everything, and I mean everything, Princess Cruise Lines jumped in with all their care, Doctors were communicating with Doctors, ships were communicating with Port Authorities, Travel agents were explaining cruise insurance and opening claims, Amber was talking to Doctors and explained she needed to make a decision in five minuets, phone calls were flying, and Cathy. Well, Cathy took it all in stride.

Cathy was insisting, insisting that everyone continue with out her. I'm not sure I would have been brave enough to have let the ship and my family sail away with out me. Cathy absolutely wasn't going to let her mother stay. Jean really would have difficulty hobbling to and from a hotel to the hospital and Cathy knows more about her needs and capabilities than all the rest of us put together.

So off we sailed. Originally we hoped Cathy could meet up with the ship in Victoria -- that didn't happen. Then we hoped she would meet up with us in Seattle -- that didn't happen.

What happened is Cathy stayed for six days in the hospital in Ketchican. Meanwhile, back on board, Princess Cruise Lines told Jean to make all the ship to shore phone calls she wanted at no charge (the regular charge is 4.95 a minute), her travel agent arranged for visits from people she knew in Ketchican, nurses made sure she had the room with the best view, Travel Guard Insurance started arrangements for Cathy's boyfriend, Kenny, to fly to Ketchican to escort her home. Cathy and Kenny are flying first class from Ketchikan Alaska to Oklahoma City Thursday, her regular doctors are fully informed and appointments have been made for Friday.

Cathy's wild ride.

There is more, but it will have to wait for a campfire or a coffee session or a Tulsa trip.

And I need to tell you about Jerry's first visit to a bikini barista, the one where Marc texted Amber, "I told you to take care of him not kill him."

And Cathy really, really wanted to go to the Christmas shop in Ketchikan. It was supposed to be the best one in Alaska. She was within 30 yards but didn't make a break for it. Cathy was brave, again.

Jerry, Jane and Jean fly out of Seattle Friday the 19th, and I owe Cathy big time, especially a trip to, or maybe 15 or so, Christmas shops. If you feel like it send Cathy a Christmas doodad, not a get well card.

I am still in awe of her bravery. Can I pretend she stayed in Ketchican for an extended stay at a Health Spa?

Alaska Versus Cruise

I took a brief survey without any kind of scientific control and discovered most folks are excited about going to Alaska, but my boss was excited about the cruise.
People are always interesting.
Isn't that the way it always is. There are those who like a slow picturesque climb and those who want a power surge to make it to the top of anything. Alaska versus Cruise?

I like frog legs, but I know people who will move to another table to avoid sitting with someone eating frog legs. When I went to the local cinema metroplex once to see the movie The Milagro Beanfield War with two other people in the audience, my date lasted about 1/3 of the way through the movie and then bailed for a neighboring theater to see something with a little more action. I wish I could remember the name of the movie he ditched me for, but I don't. I still love that movie -- The Milagro Beanfield War.

Speaking of "bailing" I bailed out of work yesterday morning at 9:30 am. Just up and left. I packed up, shut down the computer, and informed my boss that I was leaving. Too much excitement brewing in the air for me to sit any longer. She just smiled and said take lots of pictures. I love understanding bosses. Out the door I skipped whistling a happy tune. Metaphorically.

I went on a fact-finding mission to try to determine if I should buy a smart phone before my cruise, another type of survey. Ian said maybe, Roger said yes, Stephanie said no, Carol said I have an old one you can have. Problem solved. Stephanie might have said hell no.

Monday three generations of Brown women came over to get me wired. Carol brought a phone, a pink polka-dotted charger, a car charger, an adapter, a battery. I don't really know what all she brought she just kept tearing things out of shrink-wrap. I am afraid this might be a debt I can't repay. About the fourth time I asked Katie, "What is that?" She said, "Jan, you are killing me here." Now she knows how inept I really am.

Ian made a run to the T-Mobile store and it's only going to cost him 20.00 more a month. Mostly unlimited shit and 5 gigabytes of something. The lady told Ian most people use about 3 gb and as you all know I am not "most" people. But am I going to have fun taking photographs.

The graying American's are alive and busy and out and about and heading to Alaska. I noticed even the young'ens have a smattering of grey, we old'ens just take pity on them and don't talk about it.

How many reasons are there to cruise to Alaska?
Birthdays, anniversaries, babies born, celebrations, what if you had survived a year battling cancer, those sort of survival celebrations, retirement, adventure, just running away from home or going home. Some big life event, or life time dream.

Now is the time, today is the day, the adventure begins. I wonder how much toilet paper they have to stock for thousands of people for eight days and seven nights.

Life events:
I am supposed to get my hearing aids tomorrow.
Connor started school today.
Those qualify.

My blogging is done until I reach the flip side of this adventure. My family is arriving and my energies are otherwise engaged; looking for rocks and avoiding socks -- in Alaska.

Gladys Makes Me Happy

I'm just so freaking happy.

I'm happy with my home, my art, my Godzilla plant, my family, my living room animal kingdom, the idea of a cruise. I'm happy planning itineraries, excursions, cars, menus, wardrobe, routes.

I'm happy Ian cleaned and dusted. I can't brag on all Ian does for me or you would think it is child abuse.

I'm happy with Sons, Grandson, Daughter-in-Law. I'm happy with friends and book club and car. My job is okay, but I'm happy I have a job and that I can still walk uphill to get to it, barely and slowly, but I make the trudge every day.

I'm happy for all the things my family has done for me; flights, rides, and so much more. I'm happy for San Juan Island gifts of lavender. Gifts of coffee cups. Gifts of flowers, especially tulips.

I'm happy with books, libraries, teachers, movies, bosses good and bad, road trips, coffee, Ginko trees, especially in the fall when all the leaves turn yellow at the same time for a blast of brilliant color and then almost immediately they all fall together, their brilliance done for the year. I'm happy for Ginko trees in the fall and Redbud trees in the spring. I'm happy making observations random or deep. I'm happy for days off, smart phones, greeting cards, Holidays, my Carrillo connections.

I'm happy with acts of kindness even when it isn't directed at me but when I see it alive in the world. I'm happy I have been the recipient of random acts of kindness, everything from strangers sharing books on a train or at a campground to the Mississippi Queen's Captain providing me a private tour because he was the recipient of my kindness.

I'm happy for every precious son I've ever held in my arms no matter how briefly.

And Gladys makes me happy, if you haven't met Gladys come see me and you will. A most precious piece of art from Julia and Nora.

I guess I have meandered on this path long enough, some of you I will see in October and some of you sooner. Makes me freaking happy.

Pre Cruise Musings

Family is coming, lots of family, lots of beloved family. Trips to the airport is a joy picking up family, not so much so sending family back to their lives. Jerry reminded me that in three weeks the Jean's 75 Birthday Alaskan Family Rolling Cruise Circus will be over.

However, for now it is full blown pre-cruise activity. Bathroom scrubbed. Wardrobe palette complete. Itinerary set. Bills paid. Grandson lined up. Taxis and bedrooms reserved. Hair cut. Side excursions pondered. New restaurants to share. Flower house to show off. Van rented. Dusting, dusting -- Dusting? Who said anything about dusting?

Be warned -- I'll pick you up at the airport, I'll drive you to the cruise ship, I'll mix you a scotch and water, I'll even paint your toenails, but I am not, will not dust. When you come to The Inn at Mukilteo you will become intimate with Jan's personal dust. It is nice dust. How does the saying go, "My house is clean enough to be healthy and dirty enough to be happy." Be warned.

While Amber is in Seattle for her first Pacific Northwest visit does she want to see the Big Wheel, the Space Needle, the Troll under the bridge? Does she want to climb a mountain, go through the Monkey Caves, walk to the Ice Caves, kayak on Lake Union, eat at Spud's, drive Chuckanut Drive, ride the Ducks, admire Connor, or all of the above? It seems she has five little pockets of time twixt all the other this and thats, and the cruise of course.

Jerry and Jane were buying some new long sleeve shirts for the coolish Alaskan weather and mentioned, out loud, that they were getting ready for a cruise. A couple standing close by said they were getting ready for a cruise, "where are you going?"
Alaska.
Well so are we, "when are you going?"
September 6th.
"Well so are we." 
Isn't the world amazing, from a department store in Oklahoma to the shores of Seattle. What a fascinating interesting world we live in.

I have one minimal desire. I would love to get a peek at the aurora borealis.

I have seen some powerful images in my life. A lone working cowboy riding a horse down out of some hills in Wyoming just like he was riding out of the past -- at sunset.

I saw a massive tree felled in the forest. It was such a stunning sight that I didn't even feel bad for the tree, just elated that I got to see it happen. That image is with me still. The tremor, the slow topple, the sudden sight and sound of the crash, it all was thrilling.

Whales. You can't beat a thrilling experience like seeing whales gliding, roaming, coursing through the Puget Sound. Waiting for them is some of the best waits I have ever had. It takes patience to wait for whales.

A log boom, also on the Puget Sound, actually two log booms slowly meandering past my look out from high above. At all of these experiences I was an accidental spectator. I couldn't conjurer them, but I had a sensitivity of deep appreciation of each image as it was presented to my wondering eye. Those images didn't go un-noticed.

Now my eye is prepared to see some magical Alaskan image as it is presented to me. I know not what it will be or where it will be, but I do know it is coming. I am prepared to be amazed by the infinitesimally small or the magnificent.

Yes my preparations are just about done, the physical, the emotional, the spiritual. I am willing to be amazed.

These are tenets that I try to apply to my everyday sort of life, the miracle of living, the power of life, to appreciate the stunning sights and sounds that abound all about every day, but, sadly, I fail more often than not. I see people, and irony, and joy, but often miss the deeper essence. From Michelangelo's Pieta to battleships to the I-5 corridor to the hummingbirds out my back window, isn't it all a miracle? Hum, the deeper, spiritual essence of the I-5 corridor I'll have to ponder that a minute. Well, it is teaming with life, certainly it is as interesting as a hive of bees, they are a miracle. It is a type of culmination of engineering and human's fascination with road trips. A human equivalent of whale pods traversing their sea-ways to feeding and mating grounds, and don't we all need that.

I read; "What if the goal of life is to create yourself a soul?" Jorodowsky. That's a ponder-able thought.

I didn't give a bum a dollar the other day and now I feel bad. Why didn't I? I will usually give a buck or a cigarette. Ponder-able?

I said to Connor, "Isn't it amazing you are going to start school."
He looked at me blankly and asked, "Why?'
"Well, because you are going to kindergarten, you are going to learn to read, you will be going to real school."
He looked at me blankly and asked, "Do I go to fake school now?"
Ponder-able.
Granny had a hard time back peddling her way out of that.
Actually, I don't think I did.

A cruise SOS: I have lost my purple sequin top, the one Bo made dress-for-dinner pants to wear with, the one to wear with my red shoes. Lost, as in I have no idea where it could have gone to. I've checked closets, bags, shelves, underwear drawer, freezer, pantry, everywhere I can think of and it is just gone.

Beats me where it is, maybe it's with my missing dust rag.

"In life if something comes we say Yes, Yes.
In life if something goes we need to also say Yes, Yes." Jorodowsky again. Ponder-able.

I'm ready for Jean's 75 Birthday Alaskan Family Rolling Cruise Circus. Family is coming and ain't I glad.

One last quote before I go: "What is to give light, must endure burning." Viktor Frankl.
Ponder-able.

Did I mention I got Mermaid Blue toenails to match my ocean going excursion?
Not ponder-able.

A Jan-ish Kind of Day

Somehow the movie Noah turned a story in the Bible into a Marvel Comic type of movie, the movie is getting high marks on Rotten Tomatoes, but I didn't much care for it. How about you? I did like the movie The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, cute and sweet. It got low marks on RT. Guess I'm in a sweet-ish Jan-ish lowbrow kind of mood. How about you? I loved it when Shirley McClain's character said, "We are all grown ups here." but that is one of my favorite philosophies anyway so it was easy to love.

My body always has a little pain somewhere. Sometimes it has a lot of pain somewhere, but the other day driving home from work, at the end of my 40 hour stint, my body hurt every where. Hmm don't remember that happening before. A new era has dawned. Everything from my head to my toes hurt; head, neck, shoulders, back, hips, gut, thighs, legs, calves, ankles, arms, wrists, butt. No fall was involved so I think it was tension. Not something I am very experienced with. Tension pain. I think the cruise is surfacing in my body in mysterious ways. I'm thinking about it, planning it, pondering it, looking forward to it, wondering about it, anticipating it, it seems as though the cruise now has my full attention.

I don't know about you, but I'm getting so much advice about a cruise that I worry if I will have room for the experience of a cruise, even my Mohs doctor chimed in with an opinion or two. And if the adviceor has actually taken the same Inland Passage Alaskan cruise, watch out -- incoming -- except for the Bowman family, whom I wanted to ask; Where can you find coffee at 4am if need be, that early early spot you guys discovered?

Two weeks -- two weeks and family starts arriving. I am not renting an eight passenger van for sporting around Seattle, trips to the airport, the Troll, and/or Spuds. I have a different plan in mind. This cruise is so going to happen. Cathy will see the flower house, you will all see Connor and tell me three times, each, how cute he is. This cruise action has turned a corner and it is all downhill from here. Oops, a little bit of a mixed metaphor there, sorry about that. Pier 91 here we come.

My only disappointment is I won't be sitting on Edmond's beach watching MY ship set sail up the Puget Sound towards the Juan de fuca Straight and out to sea. I've watched those cruise ships for years sitting on a dock by the bay and now it is my turn. I will need an out of body experience.

That sounds delicious to say "MY ship set sail up the Puget Sound towards the Juan de fuca Straight and out to sea." I shiver with excitement and anticipation, no wonder my body is aching.

"There are two ways to live life. One as if nothing is a miracle. The other as though everything is a miracle." from Lynn.
Or to quote Jerry, "Life is good."

I'm working on my cruise wardrobe palette, I mean, I do have seven pairs of red shoes.

Even though it seems like it, not everything is a cruise connection. Right now all connections and relationships seem paramount. Verla and Earl stopped by for a visit and I was blown away, again, at how active Verla is with keeping family connections. She knows far flung cousins; who they are, where they are, what they are doing, how their health is, and well, all sorts of stuff.  Verla has your number; in her email, on her phone, locked into Facebook, and on the family scroll, she was amazing. Is amazing.

I kept trying to come up with some sort of elegant title for her behavior-quest-mission. Scribe was pretty damn weak. Chronicler seemed officious. Secretary to mundane. Registrar to academic. So like a good wordsmith I consulted my Roget's Thesaurus.

My friend Claire asked me at breakfast if I found the proper word?
I said nooooo...
I got distracted by the word Thesaurus
and took a fascinating mini stroll through Wikipedia.

Roget started writing his in 1805, the first modern thesaurus, and published his first one in 1852. It has never been out of print. I love the original format versus the modern format. Roget's is organized by sense, conceptually instead of alphabetically. I like that. It has always been more helpful for me.

Latin word, coming from Greek, meaning "treasure, treasury, storehouse." It is also notated that the entomology is uncertain, Of course it is. Maybe from "To put, to place." I wonder if Judy received her thesaurus for her birthday?

Back to cruise and family; I'm stocked up on toilet paper, coffee, napkins, hand soap, and V-8 Juice. Bought a new coffee pot. Amber will have a day to roam Seattle at will. She might climb a mountain. I'm slow as Methuselah, Noah's grandfather I think, but getting things done. That is just the way this monkey chitters. I have all my medicine ordered, and, and, and...

More Jan'ishness:

I loved writing about book club last week.
On an early morning call at work I heard a rooster crowing in the back ground. What a nostalgic blast. It might have been several roosters because there was quite a chorus.
The smog has been horrific, but getting better with cooler weather, now if we could just get a little rain.
I read the other day that both New York and Chicago get more annual rainfall than Seattle. All I know is what I read.

When we went out to dinner with Verla and Earl the other evening, Connor ate the little raw cabbage cup his gyoza was nestled in, dipped in the gyoza dipping sauce, of course. Oh and also the raw carrots decorating his plate, and an orange slice. Don't know if he ate a single gyoza.    Love that boy.

Pier 91, Puget Sound, Juan de fuca Strraight, Pacific Ocean, Inland Passage, Alaska, here comes
Jean's 75 Birthday Alaskan Cruise Family Rolling Circus.
Cruise control, cruise connections, cruise brain.

Cruise brain might be hazardous to you health.

Simple things: seeking first to understand instead of being understood.

Now I'm wondering about the word "Straight" as in Juan de fuca Straight. Talk to you later about that.

I figured it out, Verla is an activist, a family activist. Love her, love you, love the idea of a cruise.
It's so going to happen.

Book Club Tribute

Today marks my Book Club's 15th Anniversary.

Fifteen years? Wow, multiple wows can't do it justice. The charter members were Claire O'Keefe, Mary Carstensen, Lynn Brunell, and myself. Mary and I had talked about starting one for two or three years before we finally sat down and said this is it, now is the time, this is the date. Claire's only request as we discussed book, after book, after book for our inaugural selection was she wanted to pick a book that neither Mary nor I had read; Ordinary People was a great first read. Kathleen Hults missed the first meeting but was there for the second with the book read and ready to participate. I read up on book clubs before we actually started ours and discovered reams of written material about the do's and don't's of book clubbing. So so many rules was mind numbing, we elected to keep it simple: our list of rules/rule.

 You don't have to read the book. It has worked for us. 

We have had as many as fifteen and as few as one attend, but mostly it's the core folks month after month after month, with Jerry sort of an honorary long distance member kind of thing. He has slotted a few books in here and there, I don't think ever intentionally so. Sandy MacCarthy started coming when most of us worked for Eddie Bauer, then she moved to Texas for many years, then she moved back and started coming again when some of us worked for Washington Mutual after Eddie Bauer closed it's doors. Eleanor Orth started coming with her charm, elegance and immigrant perspective. Carol Brown started coming with her fascinating roots to the area, a born and bred Seattleite. Now Kathleen is starting a new phase of her life and is moving to Wisconsin to be of service to her aging parents. What will we do without her grace, wit, sharp observations, love of all things Celtic, and her quiet calm demeanor? She will be deeply missed. Mary is going to try to start up a Facebook page to help with those universal connections that are now universally possible.

Speaking of connections, we started off with paper books and now it's mostly electronic apparatus for those smart enough to master them. Not necessarily me, but most of the others. We are so au curant. I think every brand and device has been dabbled with. Sometimes we discussed the devices instead of the book.

We have always chosen a book that was in paperback and therefore less expensive -- except for one time. One time we pooled our money and bought a hard cover book straight off the best seller shelf that everyone read and shared and passed to the next person; Sea Biscuit. That was easier to do when we all worked at Eddie Bauer. Then we all went to see the movie, Jean was visiting and went with us. 

We have read fiction, non-fiction, and science fiction. We have read biography's and autobiographies. We've read about angels and demons and madman working on the Oxford Dictionary from an insane asylum. We've read about Comanche uprisings and scalping and wild children taking over a Christmas pageant.

We have read local; Seattle or Pacific Northwest authors, and in honor of some of our roots; Montana or Oklahoma connections, sentimental: Norman Rockwell's Greatest Painting, heavy; Blindness, lighthearted, frivolous, ethnic, immigrant. We have borrowed ideas for books from everywhere. Kurt Vonnegut died so we read one of his books. We had Kathleen's niece pick a book when she was living with Kathleen one summer, good book, great discussion. Jasmine -- I think. 

Sometimes we picked a theme and everyone chose their own book about the theme and shared; Shackleton and The Dead Sea Scrolls come to mind. I remember one time we watched a movie along with reading a book; Stranger than Fiction, there was a connection. We have tacked on children's books for no specific reason, just because we have no rules.

We have read Noble prize winners, Pulitzer prize winners, Booker prize winners, classical, a smattering of international books and some really mediocre stuff. Not much romance. A book we disagreed on, with divided beliefs, led to fierce discussion like A Curve in Time. A book that everybody loved led to no discussion at all, so at book club we merely caught up on family, events, kids, work, life.

It is always fun, entertaining, educational, and how can I put this? Bonding. 

Our intent was to create a book club. We became so much more. Carol gives knitting lessons, Lynn brings food, Kathleen brings clippings, Claire brings the latest NPR discussion, Eleanor brings herself as often as possible. We are a loving, encouraging, listening, supporting group who loves to read. We have had kid trouble, car trouble, weather trouble, broken bones, shifting jobs, careers, and homes. Life has happened; death, sickness, grandchildren, son going off to war. Fifteen years covers a lot of life. This is a group of smart, smart ladies with deep, intuitive, gifted insights into books -- and life. We will keep reading, chatting, experiencing, and living for many many years.

Actually we are unremarkable; unremarkable women, unremarkable years, unremarkable books, unremarkable lives that has led to something pretty remarkable.

We are Ordinary People.

For years we tried to name our book club and it just never happened, no name ever inspired or stuck until Connor was old enough to observe that book club was always by The Brown Bear Bakery with it's big brown bear carving. He knew the name of the book club was The Bear Book Club and so we are.

Sandy MacCarthy has kept a book club reading list on her blog for years. How can we ever thank Sandy enough for this gift. She is special in our hearts.

http://sandy-lifeisbeautifullifeiscrazy.blogspot.com/

Oh, by the way Sandy, you are a few months behind.  What are you doing? Dragon boat racing, working, knitting, walking, reading, visiting, vacationing, hiking, gardening, volunteering, busy being a wife and living your life?

Tonight marks the 15th Anniversary of book club. Ian was fifteen years old and Mary had no grandchildren instead of six.