Diversions

If feel like cooking something try this recipe.

Chicken Ada

Cooked boneless/skinless chicken
Cooked broccoli flowerettes al dente
Shredded co-jack cheese
1 16 oz sour cream
1 can cream of mushroom soup
1 can cream of chicken soup

Will serve 6 healthy people.
Layer bottom of 9x13 pan with cooked al dente broccoli
Top that with cooked chicken pieces
Top that with shredded co-jack cheese, thick covering
Top that with soups and sour cream
If desired garnish with buttered bread crumbs or French's Fried Onions
Cook 35 degrees, 30 min or until sides begin to bubble

I'm feeling mean and cranky, too cranky to go out in public. I need to stay swaddled in my cocoon.

It might have to do with:
American Indians losing battles -- still.
Aging.
Playing fair, or to be more precise, not playing fair.
Gun control policies or lack thereof.
Dying rhinoceros'.
Shaming.
It might have to do with the Nestle company, mother of eight thousand products, participating in suspected child slave trade on cocoa plantations. It is National Chocolate Day today.

Chocolate is one of the most popular flavors in the world. Chocolate has been around for three millennia. Chocolate entered the English language in 1600. Americans eat 11.7 pounds of chocolate a year or Americans eat 100 pounds of chocolate every second. Every SECOND!

How about them Cubs? Actually, how about them Cubs? Is the World Series over? Is there still hope for Jason to cry?

For me it is how about that Bob Dylan?

Seattle has 237 micro-breweries according to Google. There are the top 10. Best of. Best of 2015. Micro-breweries near me. Micro-breweries for sale near me. A Micro-brewery guide. The ones downtown or the ones in the suburbs and even an Official Guide. If you want beer you could do worse than Seattle.

Someone told me at reunion, I think, about the book Playing the Enemy or Invictus. Got it, read it, it was good. I am now reading Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts. No opinion yet.

I gave a friend a list of some of my past and present reads.
I will now share it with you.
Gilead -- Marilynne Robinson
Being Ester -- Miriam Karmel
Strange Fruit -- Lillian Smith
A Man Called Ove and My Grandmother Said To Tell You She's Sorry
-- Fredrick Blackman
The Reader -- Bernhard Schlink
Ready Player One -- Ernest Cline
The Last Chinese Chef -- Nicole Mones
Their Eyes Were Watching God -- Zora Neale Hurston
Watership Downs -- Richard Adams
The Curve of Time -- M. Wylie Blanchet
and
Norwegian Night -- Derek B Miller

Two Movies, or three:
Pride -- I've mentioned this one before. 2014 it still makes me cry.
Hunt for the Wilderpeople, a feel good, family friendly, fun, thoughtful film.
Next on my list is Last Cab to Darwin. I haven't seen it yet, but I have high hopes for it. It comes highly recommended. Has anyone else seen it?

Seattle weather:
"...wet, but not heavy rain, just...not really dry either."
Yep, that is a quote from our local weather page.

I need to go for a drive.
Soon.

Did you know Jackie Penin makes a terrific Thai Curry.
Do you think she will mind if I ask her for her recipe?
From the USA to the UK -- howdy British folks.

Did you see the blurb on FB about how children should be allowed to experience boredom.? I re-posted it so you should be able to find it on my timeline.

Julia's older.
Jean is magnificent to her grandchildren.
I hope Chris is hobbling nicely?
Chris did Granny make you pancakes?

I am still feeling cranky?
It might have something to do with the election. It's painful being in a family of conservatives, of, gulp, Republicans. I know who the seven other liberals are and I thank you for it. Only a few more days to go. I hope the diversions divert you if only for a bit.

Sing a love song. Sing any song. Think of Kathy Noland. Toddle a baby. Walk a dog. Read a book. Smell a flower. Plant a flower. Buy a flower. The flowers Ian purchased for me when I came home from reunion are still nice. Fish. Run. Go back to college. Write something.

Dammit.
Things change.
Things will always change
May the change be ever in your favor.
After diversions;
Go vote.

Here is a poem for your final diversion and inspiration.
Compliments of the book Invictus not to mention the author William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul. 

A Thoughtful Reunion Full of Diversity

Check list:

Goodie box, fishing, rain, wind, heat, moon, fire, flagline, baby, aunties, Jackson made a bow holder for Elsie out of a branch, Chris broke his ankle, busy Nurse Jane, Jean's coffee, Julia's walking stick, Donna's Burgers, fried okra, Branson and Jackson were the gold standard, (Jason is silver, Chris Miller is bronze, and Nora isn't even in the ranking), Janice looked great, Art was spry, Kenny hauled, some of us had our daily naps, Cara, post surgery, survived everything, GG brought "cheap shrimp", may he forever bring the "cheap shrimp" and the shrimp boil pot, pumpkins were painted, bacon infused vodka bloody Marys were the bomb, potatoes were roasted, Mike photographed, everyone else pretended to, there were more republicans than me, with a few fence sitters -- curses, Gloria only came on Monday, Haley and Chloe say they will come back. If you know who they are then you are a champion reunion goer.

The only thing missing was Jeff.

We honored him in an elemental way: accidentally not intentionally.
Earth, Wind/Air, Fire, and Water. 

Earth: We planted the Memory Tree. The delivery was early, the park dug the hole, the Pin Oak was raised, the perfect symmetry of a beautiful tree will honor Jeff always.
Wind/Air: The flagline blew and the spectacular Harvest Moon rose and bathed the camp with its full golden light. You couldn't help but feel Jeff was gazing down somehow.
Fire: The fire ceremony that was a vigil after all. Quiet and loving and moving and dignified and teary, a soft pause to remember Jeff. All flickering flame and gentle glow with tears streaming down our cheeks. Love was in the air.
Water: Saturday morning Jerry organized, prepared, and presented a champagne toast. He choked up when he tried to talk of our missing brother and our love for him. A love that can't be summed up in words.

Saturday evening Julia presented a toast with a mystery bottle of scotch that had been found in Jeff's belongings and no one knew where it came from, an old, dusty bottle. Julia said, "He didn't even like scotch, he would have given me any he had." The toast was drunk with only a few squelched eyes. How he came by the bottle remains a mystery, as does his death

He died too young. He died too vibrant. He died too full of love for us to let go easily.

Reunion just wasn't the same. It felt stiff and displaced and odd. Jerry said like a swarm of bees looking for its queen. Julia said like a flock of birds looking for a place to land. We didn't know where to sit, where to build a camp fire, where to find him. Jeff was gone and we felt it acutely.

Waves of sadness intermingled with happy smiles, events, remembrances. Adorable Branson telling me "Aunt Ju Ju watch me." after I teased him that he had to take care of Aunt Ju Ju and not let her get hurt or lost. The tree was perfect, thank you Jerry and Amber. As were the t shirts, thank you Mark Harris, and flagline thank you Jeffery William Taylor. The kids running amok was perfect, Brittany bathing Branson, baked potatoes went off without a hitch, Chris' broke foot that was a downer but could have been worse. He might not have had 40 family members, two professionals, multiple drivers, and one bartender to assist him. Alcohol might have been involved. There was a bit of alcohol around the fire. More than usual anyway. Breakfast Bailey's was perfect. Jean's cookies were perfect. Jackson making a mad dash up the hill to get his secret stash of cookies was perfect. Heat, humidity, temperature drop, rain, and bluster were par for the course. Egg salad, corn bread salad, pasta salad, and kale salad were all good. As Julia says, "If we aren't making food, or eating food, we are talking about food.

The diversity of our honoring him reminded me of how diverse our family is. Diversity in looks, politics, careers, health, wealth, activities. How can we love someone so completely when they are so different from ourselves? We are a tribe of Earth, Wind/Air, Fire and Water.

Diversity in books:

Art -- Her Mother's Shadow, Diane Chamberlin
Chris D -- The Fellowship of the Rings
Blaine -- physics textbook
Taylor -- House of Sky
GG -- Cabella's Fall Catalog, and ebay
Chloe -- magazines, she does have an active boy who licks truck tires
Andrew -- True Grit
Lexi -- History textbook
Avery -- The Wolf at the Door
Mark -- Boundaries for Leaders
Haley -- The Happiness Project
Julia -- Sanctuary, Nora Roberts
Jerry -- Total War, or Absolute war, I can't read my notes
             and Sometimes a Great Notion
Cathy -- Live the Dash
Lynn -- Bible,
             Killing Lincoln,
             Killing Jesus
             The Improbability of Love
Kathy -- Moby Dick -- still?
Amber -- House of Sky
Mary Lee -- The Devil in the White City
Michael -- The Boys Who Challenged Hitler
                  He recommends -- The Boy on the Wooden Box
                  And all the I Survived series
Jane -- Kinfolk
Branson -- The Little Blue Truck Halloween
Summer -- Odyssey
Jackson -- The Lightning Thief
Maddie -- Harry Potter, The Sorcerer's Stone
Chris M -- The Girl With All The Gifts
Nora -- The Professor and The Madman
Marc -- The Four Hour Body
Tal -- Red Mars
Mike -- To Kill a Mockingbird
Jean -- All The Light We Cannot See
Jan -- The Shell Collector
Gloria -- The Voyage: A historical novel set during the Holocaust,
               inspired by real events by Roberta Kagan.

Now that is diversity in a nutshell.

I somehow missed people, there were 44 in attendance and I didn't get the babies; Tripp's, Elam's or Elsie's books. I missed Jordan, Jennifer, Janice, Brittany, Clark, Chibi, Kenny, Cara, Hannah, and Ed. I apologize to those I missed.

Mike Noland the books I was trying to remember for you are: Walking the Bible, Bruce Feiler and The Way, it is a book from 1934, but most people refer to the movie.

And who mentioned the book to me Playing The Enemy, by John Carlin?

In all our diversity we had a family reunion to honor Jeff. How many ways? A fire ceremony, a tree planting, a bacon fest, a high flying flag line, and a toast or two. We remember Jeff's warmth, love and humor with love and affection. We are connected to you, your family, and Greenleaf. And your hugs, we remember your hugs.

Missing Jeff or not. Loving Jeff or not. Being different or not.
The sun came up and the sun set and the earth turned and we are born and die and that's the way it is.

Brother Love Traveling Show

Brother love traveling show is traveling to Greenleaf to shine a light on Jeff.

Don't forget your stick or candle for the fire ceremony. It will sort of be like a candlelight vigil -- but LOUD.

Jeff wanted fireworks and dancing ladies but this is the best we can do. Since we can't shoot off fireworks does anyone know if popcorn tossed in the open fire will pop, or will it just burn? Or what would light up, sizzle or pop in a fire? I'm not enough of a chemist to know. I might bring bacon.

We will surround the fire pit with sticks, candles, mementos, prayers, and thoughts of gratitude and love. Jane will be in charge of the dancing ladies, right Jane?

...however I doubt there will be dancing naked in the moonlight.

Jeff wasn't a genius, he wasn't famous, he wasn't rich, what he was was a father, brother, uncle, cousin, and friend. He made us happy. We smiled and laughed in his presence. How many people can claim that? We stood in awe of his powers of wit and humor, of his turn of phrase.

We are going to whoop it up for Jeff.
Jeff would for any of us.
This won't be one of those silent, respectful vigils.
Remember,
This is for Jeff.

Jeff's ashes will be brought to Greenleaf, his remains will remain there forever. A place he loved and delighted in. Like Jeff, Greenleaf isn't rich or famous, but he loved claiming it as the repository of so many of his beloved memories. He always said, "It's not the best or most beautiful place in the world, but it's where my families memories are. It's where we go to celebrate." A lifetime of memories, even more memorable now with Jeff always sharing our joy.

A memento I'm bringing to burn is a bamboo stalk I plucked from the Greenleaf swamps when Jeff, Jason, Jerry and I hiked the perimeter of the lake. The one where Jeff decreed that " anything over eight miles is a backpacking trip, not a hike." The one where Jason't feet hurt so so bad he couldn't take one more step -- until -- we got to the end and he started to play. He ran up the bank, down the bank, throwing rocks and sticks, chasing ducks -- sore feet forgotten -- Ah, youth.

That was the New Year's Eve trip that was freezing and icy. The cabins lost power. We drank Jerry's 30 year old scotch out of Tupperware coffee cups. We might of got a bit sloshed.

The cardinals were in town and every tree along the river's edge had flocks of bright red cardinals, hundreds of them on the bare tree branches. It was pretty. Jean made a hearty stew for us to gorge on when we exited out of the woods and we hardly ate. Too tired. We did consume massive amounts the next day.

One of my favorite experiences on one of my favorite days.

I said sixteen miles, Jeff said how ever many miles I claimed, he would agree to it. Oh, Jeff, you will be missed. That's the day I discovered my brothers healthy "respect" for snakes.

On the day of the hike the icy weather warmed up beautifully after a mile or two of trudging, but oddly, when we stopped to snack, eat, rest or pee it got colder, then miraculously when we started hiking it warmed up again. I was amazed  -- until my brothers explained to me the principle of exercise creating body heat. Show-offs.

That bamboo stalk has reminded me for 25 years what I was capable of and Jeff's part in it. His willingness to share the experience with joy. It is going in the fire. At least I think I am bringing it if I can get it past the TSA agents. Try explaining a dusty, dried, shriveled up 25 year old bamboo stalk to them. "You want to do what?" Yes, sir, it is for a fire ceremony. Jeff would love it.

Make it loud.
Make it proud.

Make it Jeffilicous.

On Any Given Day

On any given day, one or multiples act up.

Here is an inventory -- of sorts -- about growing old. Starting at the top of my head and moving down, including the unmentionable parts, a walking talking example of geriatric ailments.

Introducing one mixed up body:

Head -- gray haired and thinning.
     No constant, throbbing, recurring headaches -- thankfully.
Eyes -- about done in, poor sight, eyeglasses, cataracts getting stronger.
Skin -- skin cancer hither and yon.
Teeth -- about gone.
Ears -- hearing loss, hearing aids, but not deaf -- yet.
Neck -- stiff with arthritis -- old age ain't for sissies.
Back -- pretty constant tension between shoulder blades.
Back part II -- sore and twitchy.
Lungs -- duh, COPD from 50 years of smoking.
Left shoulder -- muscle ache.
Right shoulder -- metal ache from that 10 inch rod inserted after my graceful fall.
Elbow -- strange growth that won't go away. Big growth.
Wrist -- smidgen of carpel tunnel. 30 years typing on a computer.
Heart -- it has had its problems, but ticking.
Stomach -- a veritable pin cushion from insulin shots.
Muscles -- weak, I can't open jars or heft pans like I used to.
Unmentionable -- infection, probably a yeast infection as a result of the antibiotics I took for strange growth that won't go away.
An aside: you should see Ian bring me what I need, yogurt and cranberry juice and ask me how I feel, without ever mentioning the unmentionable.
Hemorrhoids -- you know where.
Bladder -- um, weak, unless I go to the bathroom every 37 minutes or so.
Right knee -- torn meniscus, intermittent pain, here today, gone tomorrow.
Left knee -- just stiff, painful, and creaky.
Legs -- restless leg syndrome,
  but who else get medication with the side effect suicide.
Ankles -- wobbly, sometimes swollen.
Body -- wobbly, need cane.
Sleep -- what is sleep?
Bones -- lost somewhere according to doctors.
Boobs are okay.

Fat
No exercise
Diabetic
High blood sugar
High cholesterol

I'm sure I forgot something.

I can't beat Julia but I do have an assortment of doctors.
Jerry told his neighbor that when he and Jane go out, they are going for a doctor appointment.

So there you are, an assortment of the coming attractions that Jeff mentioned once and we have oft repeated since. We miss Jeff.

Whimper, groan, whine all you want, but bring your rickety body to the reunion .

Did Cinderella's fairy Godmother have a bad back?

On reflection not all of these ailments are age related. Damn!

Through the Fog and Mist

We will be traveling to reunion soon. I feel I am approaching it through fog and mist. An unknown will unfold before me, a reunion without Jeff. How will we do it? I know we will survive. I know we will get through it. I know there will be tears. I know there will be campfires, conversations, kids, bacon, lots of bacon, and all the other aspects that we all hold dear  -- but no Jeff.

A family reunion in which we will honor Jeff. A fire ceremony, a tree planting ceremony, a bacon fest, and lots high flying flags -- Jeff's last reunion legacy.

We want to honor Jeff by commemoration. We want to honor him by continuation. Continue to fish, continue to gather for coffee on Jean's porch, continue mimosas with Chris and Nora. or at least I hope Chris and Nora feel so inclined.

Ahead is a dimly lit traditional family reunion, it is there, but I'm heading to it through fog and mist. Jeff was such an integral part. He maintained the campfire, wrangled the logs, axes, chairs. He strung lights, baked bread, and relaxed in his chair. He strung the first flag line, kind of like reaching the top of Mt Everest, he planted first the idea and then the reality. He planted that flag line firmly in family tradition. 

Seeing the reunion in my mind's eye without Jeff is almost impossible, but still I will be traveling to it soon, driving down that twisty road to embrace family like I always have -- that won't change. The change will be the missing shade tree, the empty chair, the empty space that was Jeff.

Our reunions have survived the loss of mother, the loss of dad, the loss of James and Josephine, it will survive the loss of Jeff. But this reunion will be heavy with that loss. This reunion will be the fog and mist before we emerge on the other side in a different way. A different family. The same -- yet changed.

I imagine our hearts will break in a million untold ways. Creative Mark is busy with a t shirt design, I'm searching bacon recipes, Jean is planing menus, each and every one of our traditional activities will break our hearts a little bit at a time, yet in the end healing will emerge, also a little bit at a time.

A strong, beautiful, vibrant family will continue to weave itself into the strong fabric of life as our legacy continues in our strong beautiful families, all of our families. My three sons, Jerry's children and grandchildren and great grandgirl, Jean's brood, far flung Janice, Julia's bunch.

The legacy Jeff was most proud of was the legacy of his children and grandchildren. They survive. They are here, alive, vibrant, warm, woven of the strong stuff Jeff passed on to them. His glory.

Jeff did impact us all in such a positive way. That impact transferred and continues on, it doesn't stop with his death. The impact of that goodness, of humor, of joy ripples out continuously. Remember Jeff commanding base camp with the walkie talkies?

A reunion approaches honoring family, tenacity, joy, bacon. Jeff would lead the way for feet propped up, toes dangling off the dock, hikes heading off into the woods, the trek up and down the cabin hill, fire poking, weiner roasting, goodie box grazing.

I'm going to the reunion not knowing what to expect -- except the sun will rise and the sun will set, and all of us trying to be like Jeff. 

A Days Drive

A days drive is like a walk in the park. They (Jerry, Jane, Mark, and Amber) clamored off the cruise ship with their travel engines pumped and headed North to Mukilteo and Patty's Egg Nest. I had to meet them there because there was no room in Jerry's vehicle with four bodies and one-thousand pounds of luggage.

After a luggage drop off and a Jan pick-up...

We hit the ground running. Patty's did not disappoint. The Mukilteo Ferry to Whidbey Island did not disappoint. Seabolt's in Oak Harbor for clam chowder and fish and chips did not disappoint. The drive, scenery, Mt Erie, and Sips Ahoy were equally satisfying. The Sips Ahoy bikini barista was mostly clothed from what I could see, however, Jerry, Mark, and Amber who saw her derriere said she did not disappoint even if she had a little bitty t-shirt on top. She did have beautiful eyes.

Jerry and I were 100% satisfied and yakked the whole way. Amber was about 73% satisfied with the drive through the woods up Whidbey Island, and Mark about 59%. Although they did doze off and on, Amber assured me dozing off and on had nothing to do with how much they drank on their last night on the cruise ship. And Jane in the rumble seat? Well, Jane quietly took it all in.

We arrived back in Mukilteo in time to meet-up with the boys for dinner at Ivar's where the clam chowder and fish and chips did not disappoint...

... and neither did the boys.

I couldn't hear all that was being said because Jerry and I were at one end of the long table yakking, but I could hear laughter, lots of laughter, emanating from the other end. Roger and Christian can talk every bit as much at Mark and Amber. Jane? Well, Jane and Ian sat quietly.

Today the Harris' go home to rescue their dogs, jobs, daughter, and little Miss Elsie, the boys head to work, and Jerry, Jane and I will hit on a perfect exploratory excursion. Woods or ocean? Ocean I think, that is something they don't have in Okie City. And Jane will -- well, you know.


Bertrand Russel:
"Love is wise, hatred is foolish."

Gandhi:
"Truth is God and God is truth."
"Where there is love there is life. Hatred leads to distruction."

All About Jeff

My last blog, months ago, was about Jeff. A more joyous hopeful blog than fills my heart today. We would have liked for Jeff to stick around and see how things worked out. Jeffery William Taylor we loved you.

The family landscape has changed. Like plate tectonics there has been a powerful shift. Our world was rocked, our life altered, our hearts broke. The sun has set on that part of our lives that was shared with Jeff.

I didn't know Jeff's shoe size -- it was big like his heart. We all heard the story of how he was too big to donate his body to science. That's a pretty good indication of how big his heart was.

Or what kind of music he listened to -- his laughter was music to us all.

How did he take his steak? I don't know how he took his steak because he was busy eating bacon not steak.

What was he scared of besides snakes? Not a dang thing.

There is a lot about Jeff that I don't know, but what I do know is how he loved and who he loved. Family, with a special niche for grandchildren. I know he loved relaxed. He loved funny. He loved big.

The main thing you need to know about Jeff  is he was a "Yes" man. Or to be more specific he was a "Yep" man, a "Sure" man. A "SWEET" man. He was always ready for an experience, or an adventure  no matter how big or small. Zoo, a walk in the woods, ride a boat, move some furniture, fix a flat, museum prowling, train riding, trip going, driving, climbing, hiking, camping, coffee, food, party, aquarium. "Let's go to Missouri for a hot dog." Sweet! Let's go sleep with tigers." Sweet!

Stories abound:

Telling Jerry he had no control over a situation. "Just go to the end of your chain and bark."

My new jeans with a rhinestone butterfly on the rear. "That's not a butterfly, that's a b-52 bomber."

After hiking about 15 miles around Greenleaf lake. "I learned anything over 8 miles is a back packing trip."

On not having enough money for retirement. "I'll eat dog food and sit in the dark to retire."

He took me to a local grocery store so I could admire the width and breadth of the parking spaces. Spaces big enough for a 1984 Lincoln Continental, not some puny-ass Prius. Parking spaces big enough for the senior citizen's Cadillac or all the other old luxury cars still residing in Bella Vista. He did have some humor.

Laying a beloved brother to rest was one of the most difficult things I have ever done. Don't ask me why but it was harder than James with the family history of heart disease. Harder than Mother with her fragile health. Harder than Josephine, she being the oldest.

But Jeff? The lively one, the funny one, you young one. How can all that joy and spirit be gone? Not lost, just gone.  How can a life be over and not finished?

If we are going to talk about Jeff there should be a campfire to commend his spirit to Heaven. A BIG campfire.

I was so angry at his funeral -- it wasn't big enough for Jeff. Not enough commemorating his life. Not enough life. He was bigger than that. Jason reminded me the "blow out" will be at Greenleaf.

I imagine it is about all of  us coming through to the other side. The side of life without Jeff. Jeff would have told the stories that would have made us all laugh. Stories full of humor, understanding, and wisdom.

As he told the nurse during one of his doctors visits after he had been diagnosed with a brain tumor and had two years to live. when she said "You'd be fun to know." He answered "If you want to get to know me, you had better hurry."

Life without Jeff will be memory, remembrances, stories, laughter or quiet snickering as we remember a gesture, a smile, a tilt of the head, a story.

Laying to rest one with such a big heart.
Finally Jeff you can go to Greenleaf with just one suitcase.
How do you grieve for a beloved one?
How do you grieve for someone as bright and bold as Jeff?

How many metaphors are there? Which ones will bring comfort? Jeff has left the building. He's in a better place. His spirit is with us always. None of them work.

In the end just "Be like Jeff."

Miracles Do Happen

So Jeff wasn't feeling so good.
So Jeff and Julia decided not to go hiking.
So Julia Googles Jeff's symptoms and it suggests heart issues.
So they go to the hospital.
So Jeff has had a heart attack and has a blood clot in his lungs.
So Jeff is under proper medical care.
So Julia, Jean, Jerry, Jane, Tal, Summer and Brittany are all in attendance. As Janice says the "wagons circled."
So Jeff is in good hands.
So miracles do happen.
So I want Julia riding in my car Googling.

The miracle of mountains. As I was driving to The University Village for my annual sidewalk sale visit to Something Silver and Ian, the Pacific Northwest mountains were stunning. Mount Rainier was soaring, Mount Baker gleaming, the Cascades shining, the Olympics aglow. The glory of this Earth is a miracle of humbling proportions. The Earth is so large and I am so small yet my soul soars with the majesty of eagles up to the very top. The miracle of mountains that I don't have to buy a ticket for, wait in line for, see in a museum, feel sorry for myself because I can't afford one. or envy someone else's. Even though they feed my soul they don't feel like mine. They feel expansive, inclusive, glory belonging to everyone.

I enjoyed the miracle of Ian at The University Village sidewalk sale. This is my miracle, he is my son, I'm the one that birthed him. Now he is his own person, his particular DNA mix is his not mine. He is such a pleasure to walk up to and see him busy with his trade. All his colleagues are so kind and welcoming. He took me to lunch at Din Tai Fung, a Michelein rated dim sum restaurant, go ahead, ask me how good it was. I didn't fall off my high protein diet too much, just some wee dumplings, a noodle dish I can't even describe, perfect fried rice, and garlic sauteed green beans -- yep worthy of being called miracle. Miracle food with Ian and his friend Calysta that feeds the miracle of life.

The miracle of friendship and the trip to Flathead Lake. A nine hour drive through valleys, plateaus, down highways and byways, beside rivers, more rivers, and then more rivers. Powering through the mountains, over the mountains, around the mountains ending at the Mission Mountains towering over Flathead Valley all the way to the lake. Mary and I were so surprised at how delightful the trip was for such a short Memorial weekend. It was so worth the hours of the drive with the reward the hours at the lake. An eighteen hour drive there and back again with the end result a delicate trip of  laughs, quiet, and vista's. The drive was easy, the recuperation not so easy. I think I slept for two days after we returned

The miracle of rain as we watched a storm coming at us from across the lake closer and closer until we finally dashed about gathering dishes, toys, dogs, and kids, and headed for cover, then just as it reached our side of the lake, it veered right and we barely received a sprinkle.

Mary's sister's friend at the first evening meal together asked me about my accent and I told her I was from Oklahoma. She sniffed, or harrumphed, I'm not sure which, and said off all the states she has to visit Oklahoma is the one she likes going to the least. Ha! HA! If she wants to insult an Okie she will have to do better than that. We Okies have been insulted by the best and that faux pas barely caused a notice. Aren't people a miracle? Yes they are! And Okies are blessed with miraculously thick skin. After that it was a miracle of friendliness for the rest of the visit.

Mary's daughter Colleen was a miracle of kindness. I thought I was Mary and her sister's guest, but as it turns out I was Colleen's guest. She treated me like royalty, commandeered the household, didn't let me do any heavy lifting, and cleaned the final stages. Mary and her daughter and her granddaughters are part of the miracle of humanity, and they made me laugh, and Colleen taught me how to cook spaghetti sauce in a slow cooker. Who knew? My spaghetti sauce was a hit by the way. Another miracle?

Roger and Jane will have their birthdays tomorrow. Roger will turn forty-nine and Jane will be forty-nine-ish.

Lynn has a new hip, Jeff ticker is still ticking, Jean and Brittany brought me some Whataburger Spicy ketchup when they visited and I've had it on everything except watermelon, Connor told me my car turtle stencils were car "tattoos," I love a young mind. Miracles all.

Miles traveled:
With Jean in Oklahoma, Texas, Arkansas; 2000
With Kathy in Washington; 400
With Jean/Brittany in Washington, Oregon, California, Canada; 1400
With Mary in Washington, Idaho, Montana; 1000
Looking forward to Hawaii.
Have retirement -- miracle, will travel -- miracle.

~and~

Sunshine, the miracle of sunshine.
Ordinary miracles really are extraordinary.

All a Twitter

Jean snapped a photograph for me of a poster in the Bread and Roses Bakery in Yachats Oregon.
I give it to you here:

Why Cheap Art? manifesto
People have been thinking too long that
Art is a privilege of the museums and the rich.
Art is NOT business.
Art does not belong to banks and fancy investors.
Art is food.
You can't eat it but it feeds you.
Art has to be cheap and available to
EVERYBODY.
It needs to be everywhere
because it is the inside of the world.

Art soothes pain!
Art wakes up sleepers!
Art fights against war and stupidity!
Art sings Hallelujah!
Art is for kitchens!
ART IS LIKE GOOD BREAD!
Art is like green trees!
Art is like white clouds in blue sky!
Art is cheap!
Hurrah!

Bread and Puppet, Glover, Vermont, 1987

Thank you Jean for your kind service to me. Especially since I am not feeling kind. I was driving to Roger's and passed a marquee that said "The happiness of your life depends on the quality of your thoughts." And my thoughts have turned mean.

I had a car trying to pass me and I had nowhere to go. There were two lanes of traffic creeping up Mukilteo Speedway and I was stuck behind the car in front of me. Finally the person had the opportunity to whiz past me, blast forward, and cut back in. I noticed he saved himself seven seconds to get to the gas station. I know because I counted. I said we were creeping didn't I, and now that I am retired I have nothing else better to do but count seconds. This must be the absolute seven second rule. I hope you have all learned how important it is to save those seven seconds. Me, I think he was seven seconds closer to an exploding heart attack. Yep, feeling mean.

And crotchety. How did I get so old and crotchety? I was grumpy at that driver. I got bored waiting at the hospital. I was grumpy in traffic, in line, at a disappointing movie, at disappointing service, the bathroom is too far, the elevators too slow, at signs of ill will around me. Grumpy, crotchety me. Is this retirement?

Alan Greenspan, former Federal Reserve Chairman warns of impending global retirement crisis. Thanks Alan that is enough to make me grumpy.


However, it felt really fun getting up early, doing all my getting ready to go to work routine, vitamins, meds, yogurt and NOT going to work, but going to pick up Lynn and take her to the hospital instead. Another aspect of retirement.

Driving past Boeing and seeing planes destined for Angola, Turkey, Japan, China, United Kingdom, and a few others countries I couldn't catch the name of was fun.

Looking out the window at the area's gray sky and seeing off in the distance, under the cloud cover, the Sun gleaming on the Olympic Mountains.

Going to Flathead Lake with Mary, going to Hawaii with Janice, long days of sunshine, cheap art on the walls, Connor checking out my black stone turtle and informing me it was made out of obsidian, naps, taking Brittany border to border of both Washington AND Oregon, watching Brittany go all goo goo over dogs and fru fru drinks from any local barista, and seeing her put up with her old granny and that crotchety old aunt.

...and I am all a twitter over my Flathead Lake trip in eight hours.
All is not lost yet.

Oh, Myyy

Oh my!

It was a rolling holiday; wheels, hills, miles, and waves.

Five hundred mile power drive south, six hundred mile meander back.
Oh my, I am not as young as I used to be. The long haul was okay driving it, but when I tried to get out of the car and walk. Oh my.

Breakfast with Lynn at our favorite Patty's Egg Nest was a great start to an adventure. Driving I-5 we were wowed by Mount St Helen's, Portland, and my how Portland has changed in forty years. Miles and miles and miles of rose bushes lining the center median. Miles of rose bushes in bloom. Portland has some highways as scary as Dallas. Luckily on this trip we were just passing through all bug-eyed at the beauty, buildings, roses, rivers, bridges -- we will be back.

At a rest stop on the way to Roseberg a man tried to put his two dogs in the back seat of his car and was surprised to find Brittany sitting there. Well, Brittany was a mite surprised also even though she loves dogs. He sensed the error of his ways and backed off before he embarrassed himself too much.

In Roseberg we discovered Dutch Bros Coffee Hut and enjoyed our delicious coffee before continuing our southern run, before we realized Dutch Bros has a hut everywhere. Roseberg is where I woke up in the middle of the night and looked over at three lumps in three beds and christened us the three sleeping beauties. We laughed, talked and let Brittany ask all the stupid questions she wanted that usually Jean and I were too stupid to know the answer. I gotta get smarter before I travel with Brittany again.

Grant's Pass Oregon where I was going to go around the block to get a better angle for a photograph and wound up going the wrong way on a one way street and the whole damn town saw it. Cars and bikers were frantically waving their arms trying to get me to stop, and the guy in the gas station wagged his finger at me. No, not that finger, a friendly "you goofed" finger. I gassed up and got out of town fast. If you go to Grants Pass don't tell them you know me, I'm never going back.

On towards the Redwood Highway. Oh my, that is a scenic highway worth "oh my-ing." It drops 1900 feet in its twisty, turny, cliffy, rocky, eighty-nine miles to the sea. We wandered through the Redwoods Jedediah Smith State Park and whispered it was so quiet, church like, serene, and ethereal. Brittany took some stunning photographs. Our California portion ended at Perlita's with a mediocre lunch and The Java Hut with a fantastic "oh my" berrilicious drink. I think Brittany had a Milk and Cookies Frappe. Me? I always get the same boring latte.

California cruising, Oregon strolling.

Finally we are started up the Oregon coast. The point of the whole trip. There are many little scenic overlooks. Many many many scenic overlooks. Oh my. And we saw them all except for the ones you needed four-wheel drive to get down, or up as the case may be. We gaped at the Sebastian overlook. Saw a uni-cycle climbing the hills out in the middle of nowhere. Had ice cream in Port Orford. Admired houses, bays, boats, sky, water, rocks, forest, oh my-ing the whole distance.

Our biggest surprise was happening upon the tall ships in Coos Bay. There they were, there was a parking spot along the hellaciously busy highway, and there we were gawking. Jean says, "I think they are getting ready to sail," and they were, so we gawked some more, Brittany got some more great photographs. Oh my, you don't often get to see two tall ships sail away.

Gold Beach -- seals, Bandon -- old town, Yachats -- Bread and Roses Bakery, dunes -- everywhere. At one too sudden stop to let some fast cars pass me by Jean saw a big yawning hole and thought her life was ending, or at least going to be damaged. I'm not sure she has forgiven me yet. However, I stopped, the cars passed, and we continued on our gentle way to Florence and spent the night at the magnificent Driftwood Shores Resort. That place would mellow out anyone.

Brittany found it via her smartphone skills, it was miles off Highway 101, and we all fell in love. I commented how I now had a $200.00 dollar a day habit. Just feet to the beach, we listened to the surf all night long. Is there a sound anywhere more soothing? Brittany said even the roll-a-way bed was fantastic. Florence is where we saw the mama and her baby ducks cross the road, where we had the legendary Abby's Pizza. Good? yes. Legendary, maybe not so. This is where I saw a toilet where you could choose full or half flush. Oh my, never saw that before. I live such a tiny life.

It was a trip to remember; bicyclers, hikers, and sculptures of seals, seagulls, bears, kissing bears, Sasquatch, caveman, more bears, and more.

Oh my food; berrilicious, myvithra, saganaki, oh my. Oregon hazelnut salted caramel ice cream at Tillamook, Marion-berry Pie, Caramel Crunch coffee. Oh my stuff; Seaside goofiness, Cannon Beach's haystack sea stack.

The Pasta Amore or Perlitas Huaraches or Canada in general not so much "Oh My." In Canada I got lost, turned around, misplaced a highway, stuck in a residential area, starved, twisted and finally talked to another driver in a belligerent tone much to Jean's delight. Yep, I'm getting too old for some adventures.

Starting at Spuds and just about ending with Ivar's for ice cream five days later. It was a fun run.

Back to the Oregon coast; lots of fog, mist, rain, dreamy vistas around practically every curve in the road.  We passed through rose territory, sheep territory, farming, logging, boating, beaches, dunes, vistas, redwoods, the kind of Coastal Road that dreams are made of.

Oh my it was a trip.

Jean and Brittany, are your bags packed?

First of all I want to apologize to Jason. On April 29th, on this blog, I wrote Summer was mourning her grandmother. I'm sorry Jason, I know you were mourning her also. I don't know how I made such and embarrassing omission. Your grandmother was a lovely woman, fun, enthusiastic, and generous. It was a pleasure to have known her.

Second I want to wish Chris a happy, happy birthday. I already wished Christian Happy B-Day, but he never pays any attention.

There are several things I did, some I need to do, and some I won't do before Jean and Brittany arrive tomorrow.

Done;
Extra coffee and toilet paper -- check.
Grocery run -- check.
Bathroom cleaned -- check
Maps at the ready -- check.
Cooked some food Brittany will love; beets, turnips, carrots, all her favorites.

Need to do:
Make an extra bed.
Wire up the air conditioner.
Plan a breakfast with friends.
Print off travel itinerary.
Run dishwasher.
Plan a meet and greet with The Connorman, and my son, what's his name.

Won't do:
Dust living room.
Dust computer area.
Dust bedroom.

They be coming and I am excited. For those of you I haven't blabbed to we have two excursions planned. A power drive to California to see the redwoods and let Brittany step onto Oregon soil. She wants to add another state to her life time travel list.

And, drive to Canada so Brittany can become an international traveler. Don't you know she has a pass port now? We were going to take the train, but since she has decided to go look/see that evil Capilano swinging bridge we will be driving. To the bridge NOT on it. Thank God it is a pedestrian bridge. We will also try to fit in the Sky Train and the Seabus. Here's hoping.

It is always so much fun to anticipate and plan for company. Jean and I have had many successful adventures during the last 20 years. Brittany? Not so many. This one is for you Brittany. So "gird your loins" and let us get ready for some travel. By the by, unless you bring it with you there will be no Randy Rogers or what ever his name is. I could probably fine classical music on NPR, but that would be about it.

Since you are visiting your fat old aunt you don't have to worry about being cute, sexy, or appealing. You won't have to worry about getting to work on time or lasting the full eight hours. You won't have to worry about work lunches, gas for your car, or letting Dax out and in. You might have to do some heavy lifting for your granny and fat old aunt, but not too much. You know, suitcases in and out of the trunk and making sure we don't walk off and leave our canes anywhere.

If we have time Jean at the tailend of the Oregon drive I'll take you to The Cottage Bakery in Long Beach for some Sailor Jacks.

So Brittany, pack your boots and flipflops and I'll see you tomorrow.

Who is coming next? I am retired you know.



From my friend Mary -- thanks Mary.

The Stuff of Mothers'

Mothering? It's an exotic job.

Mother's Day? What a gentle loving sentimental holiday. Dewy roses, soft pastels, wispy angels, creamy chocolates, glitter and butterflies, soaring with visions of maternal love and affection. Trying to shine our deep and profound feelings towards our mothers, to show our gratitude for life.

Mothers, from the oldest to the newest and all the lovely mothers in-between. Mothers aging, growing, worrying, fending. Mothers memories, moments, care -- soup, crayolas, teas, tantrums. We do it all.

Driving for miles to sit on hard bleachers when it is too hot or too cold, uncomfortable camp chairs on wet fields. Lugging treats to school, forgotten homework, jackets, emergency projects. Urging the child on after crushing defeats, cautioning nobility after magnificent wins.

Sewed shoes, designed skateboards, spending time to get the grip tape on in a wild pattern. I did that. Driving kids to parks, swim lessons, fencing lessons, dance lessons. Baking cookies, cupcakes, clay, Shrinky Dinks. I did that.

The stuff of mothers.
Finding stuff; gloves, shoes.
Washing stuff: gloves, shoes.
Building stuff: science projects, indoor forts.
Tickling, kissing, taking temperatures, dispensing medicine.
Waiting: doctor offices, after school dances, lessons, church, birthday parties, sports events.
Feeding stuff; fish, cats, dogs, kids.
Admiring stuff everything from dead mice or snakes to broken bone casts.
Providing stuff from computers to cars.
Teaching stuff from driving, cooking, tying shoe laces, how to hang up a towel or cut up a chicken. Look both ways,
Wiping stuff: snotty noses, bleeding lips, messy bottoms, dirty hands.
Squishing stuff: spiders, mosquitoes, bananas, glue, clay.
Cleaning stuff: cages, fish bowls, dog poop, kid vomit.
Vacuuming stuff: cat hair, dog hair, kid hair when they decide to cut their own bangs or their brothers.
Stepping on stuff: Legos, action figures.
Tripping over stuff: balls, dolls, bikes.
Sweeping stuff: sand, leaves, dirt, spills.
Catching stuff: snakes, toads, snails.
Throwing away stuff: old toys, blankets, week old peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that somehow got left in the pocket of their jeans.
Cooking stuff: cooking food kids don't like.
Taking them places they don't want to go.
Buying them clothes they won't wear.
Hurting their heads when you comb it, especially if you are combing out glue, wax, peanut butter, gum.

Letting them fall off a bike, get hit with a ball, get hurt by a dentist. Letting them swim, climb, jump, fail, and fall in love. Then wiping up the blood, tears, dirt, sweat and washing out the stains. Putting the broken heart pieces back one tear at a time.

Watching them fail and fail and fail and try again.
Encouraging them when there is no other solution.

The hard hand stuff: What is sex? My teacher doesn't like me. Why learn the times table? So and so keeps picking on me. I can't do it. I don't feel good.

Stand still for photographs.
Kiss grandma.
Say please and thank you.
Get away from: the aggressive dog, broken glass, the abyss that called them all.
Don't drip: snow-cones, popsicles, bar-b-que sauce, ketchup, ice cream, watermelon juice.
Wiping up what dripped.
Washing what was dripped upon.
Handing out another ice cream cone.

Getting over stuff: "You did WHAT?" "You went WHERE?"

Bath.
Brush your teeth.
Wash your hands.
Use condoms.
Pay your bills.
Study.
Finish your homework.
Be home by midnight.
Don't drink and drive.
Oh the tears we have caused.
All the "nos" we have said.
All the explaining, explaining, explaining.
All the waiting, waiting, waiting we have done.

As a mother working or staying at home you knew you were doing it wrong. Mothers and mothering comes in all shapes and sizes, but we never seemed to be quite the right fit.

We spent much of our youth mending, sewing, patching, gluing, finding, cooking, working, mixing, bathing, fixing, wiping, washing, driving, waiting, nursing, hugging, kissing. All because of this child with sticky kisses and dirty hands.

Good job mothers' everywhere, good job.
And they love us anyway!

My favorite mother quote:
Life is the first gift, love is the second, understanding is the third.

I survived being a mother.

And the Beat Goes On

Baby Elsie finally had her party.
Summer mourned her grandmother.
Jane got well.
Ian is opening the new Something Silver concept gift store, Sublime, at Alderwood Mall which is close, very close, May fifth. I'm going to try to be the first customer.
Roger is running around and basking in the Mexican sun.
Julia sailed through surgery.
And walked in the woods.
Tal baked a cake.
Josie turned two.
A storm or two traveled through the Midwest.
Chris and Nora do everything.
Jan wrote a poem.
Amber has one class to go.
Jeff is traveling to England.
Taylor traveled to New York.
Jerry traveled with Marc to California.
Roger, Connor, and I are traveling to California in July.
Jean and Brittany are traveling to ME!

Kathy left. She was good for the soul, insomnia, and diabetes. Somehow she helped sweep the cobwebs out of my head. We had many unguarded conversations. We are alike in many ways, everything from movie preferences to each of us having multiple sneezing fits, basically we only disagreed on Obama and legalized marijuana. Or to quote Julia's neighbor, Colleen I think, "How about them Cubs." Kathy was like traveling with Jean "game" for what ever was next.

And Verla we overused the phrase I said I was going to steal from you. When every we couldn't think of a person, place or thing we said, "I'll tell you later." Worked like a charm. Even though I am way older then that sweet young cousin, we forgot in about equal measure. Thanks Verla it saved me many times.

I spent the days being the fat old lady, Kathy spent the days doing the heavy lifting. Or to use the phrase I stole from Jeff, "Dance monkey, dance." She was, absolutely, the helping hand. The truth is I love her warts and all, maybe I love the warts the most and just accept the rest of her. Traveling with Kathy was like traveling with Julia, she helped me immeasurably.

Before, during and after our one and only fire we talked about the wonderful fire masters of Taylor Family Reunion fame, but what we really needed was their tools. I missed the experts and I missed a microwave. Our yurt was waterproof and fun, but a tad primitive. No Keurig. We had to actually fill up the teapot at the spigot, fire up the camp stove by striking a match, and then wait, and wait, and wait for the water to heat up. Primitive!

Christian provided all the camp necessaries; sleeping bags, chairs, stove, teapot. I stole wine from Ian's stash. He gets gifted wine, a lot of wine, and he doesn't drink, but he still thought I should have asked before I rifled through his belongings. They were delicious.

We talked about everything and everyone; life, death and everything in-between -- nothing and no one was safe. I drove down the wrong side of the road for her, got lost twice, and bumped into a rock and a post while trying to remember how to back up the car. She kept offering to do it for me, I wonder why? Traveling with Kathy was like traveling with Jerry, we never stopped discussing -- stuff.

She loved the Pacific Ocean, the beach, the Columbia River, hated the Astoria Bridge. I knew I loved her for a deep reason. I didn't have to drive over it for her. The Columbia River ferry was closed so that was a no go. Next time Kathy, next time. We saw ships, tugs, kites, kite surfers, dead seals, birds, light houses, clammers with their clamming guns. Who knew? The only complaint she had was the seagulls waking her up at my house. Traveling with Kathy is like traveling with my family, she was ready to love it all.

Kathy the name of the slippers that have great arch support and will bring comfort to your feet is Keen Howsers. the clog kind. Yes, we talked about feet, knees, colonoscopies, actually we talked about health a lot. And retirement and lake living and traveling and kids and grandkids and how early the sun comes up and sits in the Pacific Northwest. Important stuff.

We discovered The Cottage Bakery in Long Beach with the best clam chowder -- EVER -- I promise. And bakery goods that rival The Chestnut Cottage. Nothing will ever beat Chestnut Cottage's apricot walnut scone, but everything else we had, and we had more than we should have, was better. Our favorite find was Sailor Jacks. Have you ever heard of those? Neither had we, but we are big fans now. Maybe the bran muffin was more medicinal than delicious, but we ate it anyway. Kathy was properly impressed with The 42nd Street Cafe beignets, they did not disappoint. It was a great trip, great fun, great adventure, great drive, great sights. Traveling with Kathy was like traveling with Jan; let's eat.

SO who is coming next! I'm ready ladies. 

In two days I had dinner with Jacquie, coffee with Carol, and lunch with Christian -- I love retirement. I can get up, get out of the house, go somewhere -- or not. I can watch a movie, read a book, learn a new language -- or not. I can travel, exercise, nap -- or not. I heard retirement was a relentless effort in creativity. I don't agree with the relentless part.

Time, solitude, and toil are the old time simple requisites for success.

The movie Spotlight was very good.
The book The Reader was very good.

Now, a word about Connor. I gave him a Tin Can Cable Car kit for his birthday. This kit had four pages of dense, dense instructions, but Connor put it together by looking at the pictures including the electrical part. I said, "Connor that is amazing," and he said, "Not really, I put Legos together all the time and they never have words."

It was amazing.

If someone doesn't come soon I might have to go back to Silver Sneakers and, gulp, exercise.
Christian quit smoking and gained weight, so he started drinking smoothies for breakfast and lost ten pounds. Yes, I'm drinking smoothies now.
The prep-nurse called me for medical information before my colonoscopy Monday; she asked me about my vision, hearing, and balance. What could I say, it all sucks.
I had my eyes examined today to check on my cataracts, no surgery, not yet, so I'm still foggy eyed.
To quote my brother Jerry, growing old isn't for sissy's.

And the beat goes on.

Slow and Slower

Pesky Ian asked if I wanted to watch season two of Fargo before he returned it to the library. "It got good reviews" always a hook for me. Twelve hours later I emerged bleary eyed from binge watching. Now I know what "binge watching" is. Occasionally he would pop around the corner and ask "Do you like it?"

I kept answering "No" but I kept watching and watching and watching until the bitter end. Here is fair warning DON'T start watching Fargo season two. You will love parts, hate arts, be puzzled, entertained and horrified. It is smart, sweet, sad, funny, and gory -- evil Ian.

That folks is life in the slow lane.

Life in the slow lane is akin to greeting card wisdom
"Hope your day is blooming with love."
Or
"Love happens in the little moments."

To off set the inane-ness of Fargo I finished the book The Snow Leopard. A deeper wisdom, a slower lane. A book about a trek in the Himalayas. About writing, climbing, observing, thinking, and striving to get to a deeper understanding of Zen Buddhism.

These quotes made me wonder, ponder, go deeper into myself.
Thank you Mary for loaning me the book.

"I longed to let go, drift free of things, to accumulate less, depend on less to move more simply,"
"The perfect sound of voiceless wisdom."
"Something infinite behind everything appeared."
'I must entrust myself to life."

And my favorite from the book;
"The great sins: to pick wildflowers and threaten children."
Tibetan folklore?

Another quote; but I can't remember if it came from a greeting card or The Snow Leopard.
"It has taken me all of my life to get where I am now."

I am such an undisciplined me. I'm of an age where practically every one I know is clearing out their homes, their lives, their beliefs, striving for deeper wisdom, less encumbrances, while I watch Fargo and notate Facebook wisdom: I am a mermaid, a dragon, a tree, a warrior. "The hardest part of childhood is the first fifty years."

What I admire, undisciplined me that I am, is beliefs pass, time passes, heartache and ecstasy pass, but life goes on in a daily way. Those small moments. Small moments of love, kindness, peace, joy. I appreciate the deeper wisdom of everything from greeting cards to FB to The Snow Leopard.

~and~
Company is coming.

Brittany wants to go to Canada and see the famous Capilano Swinging Bridge. If you know of my fear of heights then you know I think she is an evil 20-something, sass with attitude. I'll take her, but I won't step foot on it.

Kathy Noland will be here Wednesday and we have that yurt trip planned. I'm collecting tea, and coffee, and wine, and Christian came through with sleeping bags and camp chairs, and I plan on sitting and slowing down just a little bit more.

I wanted to write deeply about fear, and passion, and prayer, and listening, but I'm too excited about Kathy's upcoming trip. Undisciplined, simple, small? Yes it is, and worthwhile, and lovely, and loving, and mundane, and life.

Facebook wisdom intrudes. This was in reference to running, but I think I will use it here,
"It doesn't get easier, you get stronger."
"Relentless forward motion."
Time passes, that's for sure.

That's life.

Last Snow Leopard quote:
This is at the bottom the only courage that is demanded of us: to have courage for the most strange, the most singular, and the most inexplicable that we may encounter. That mankind has in this sense been cowardly has done life endless harm; the experiences that are called "visions" the whole so-called "spirit world," death, all those things that are so closely akin to us, have by daily parrying been so crowded out of life that the senses with which we could have grasped them are atrophied. To say nothing of God.

May you have a slower day
And I wish Jean comfort and success and good news with her test today.

What I Really Wanted to Write About Yesterday

Drinking iced tea under the shade tree.

Family gatherings of old, of yesteryear.

Amber was still a kid and not a grandmother, Jane wasn't a nurse yet, Chuck didn't race cars yet, and Christian wasn't born yet. But still the family congregated at Mom's on Saturdays. Sometimes 3 or 4, sometimes 24. Sometimes to work on a project for Mom or Dad; a new fence, tear down a shed, burn some trash, garden chores. Sometimes it was just any old Saturday, sometimes it was the 4th of July, but it was always iced tea under the shade tree. The catalpa tree. The big catalpa tree with its funny seeds, the seeds that every kid played with. Seeds that could be a baby buggy or a weapon.

Sometimes there were guests arriving; Tim and Dorie, The Strouds, the cop, I forget his name -- Priest I think, sometimes total strangers who just happened to be going down the road there on 50th Street. Amber had to wear her corrective shoes, Julia would bring down excitement; a red sports car, a case of soda, a camera. This was before she became such a nervous Nellie. Remember that time?

As active as it was with people coming and going, playing, laughing, James being James, eating, and drinking ice tea. As active as it was -- on reflection it seems a quiet time. All those troubles of those days are gone. Gone like melted spring snow. And there were troubles, it was not a trouble free time but I can't remember a one.

What I do remember is the gallons of iced tea, getting blocks of ice out of the freezer and chipping gallons of ice for the iced tea, and then drinking the iced tea slowly under the shade tree.

Times keep changing. Careers, jobs, sometimes Janice was in town, sometimes not. Jean went to California and came back, grand kids grew up and started getting married, Maxine died, but there was always the quiet calm under the tree.

Now it is more water than iced tea, there is no congregating point. Settling in at Jerry and Jane's is nice, Jean's table is nice, Janice's nook is nice, My couch is sorta nice, but it ain't the same as drinking ice tea under Mom's shade tree.

People are the same, life is the same, busy times, troubled times, quiet times. Family is the same, still grief and joy, still loving and aging, still children and still sunshine and trees. All the homing devices are aimed at Greenleaf now where we drink our iced tea under the shade tree -- or water, or bourbon, or beer, or Yoohoos. Maybe it is the same.

Kids rolling down the grassy hillside, playing in the sand, getting hurt, crying, needing a hug or kiss. Health issues, trip planning, eating, laughing, sharing with or without troubles. Amber is a grandmother, Jane is a retired nurse, Christian is middle-aging.

Life continues under the shade tree.

Grannies, Grannies, Grannies and Mimi

Boys, boys, boys -- I gotta tell you boys keep you hopping. I spent the week picking Connor up after his Lego class and keeping him until Mom got off work. How can two or three hours feel like seventeen? We had Star Wars crashes. block crashes, dinosaur crashes, crayola crashes, Connor crashes especially when he gets his foot stuck in the theater seats, or topples over from his stool, or trips over shoelaces. I ask you what keeps them alive until they grow up?

One day I couldn't fill him up, he ate dinner; mac and cheese, corn, orange, boiled egg, popcorn, candy, beet/strawberry juice, cookie, grapes, cereal bar, plus all the left over lunch that he didn't eat at school that day including a sandwich and apple slices, all in the two to three hours at my house. The next day he sniffed his displeasure at all offers of food.

He corrected me on all the errors of my thinking like the correct way to build and play "cootie," the real difference between a Storm Trooper and a Snow Trooper, that reading for fifteen minutes included the time it took to find a book, open a book, find the correct page, wiggle around on the couch to get comfortable and then and only then proceed to read. This granny wasn't fooled. He reads beautifully by the way, but oh my, he forgot his math homework. How convenient.

And as for grannies, they were everywhere in Oklahoma when I visited. It was a granny state of mind up to and including the new granny, er Mimi. Grannies made sure of rides, money, dinners, vehicles, and talks, laughs, and advice. It was grand to watch in Oklahoma but a little harder to herd my own growing grandson. Jeff does a great job being a grandpa, Tal does a great job being a, well, a Tal, but I have trouble keeping up. I have learned I can't do it everyday. Whew!

Now that I am retired and have learned that my advantage insurance pays for it, I have joined Silver Sneakers at the YMCA. Yeah, I know, cra cra crazy. I've been three times, had a tour, was introduced to all the machines and how to use them, learned the difference in all the classes; water, classic, circuit, yoga, cardio, what times the pool and the exercise room is open, where the hot tub and sauna are located and which are open all the time and which are limited. I'm not saying I'm going to change much, but I do have a goal to move. Roger again told me if I went to the Y and actually got out of the car it was a successful trip. Smart arse kids.

Even though I think Silver Sneakers is an insipid name, the actual experience has been very nice. Lovely people, kind instructors, pleasant environment, not too intimidating, and FREE. I have a very hard time joining in with a new type tribe of folks so I don't know how far I will travel this road, but I have taken my first step, steps, after all I did bike five minutes today and Jeremiah said "good job."

Another week of retirement come and gone. Busy, busy, busy. How did I ever have time to work? I have heard that over and over and over from various siblings, Now I ask, "How did I ever have time to work?" Aging isn't graceful, it's a bumpy kind of road. An all-ten-doctor-appointments-are-made kind of road. Ask Jerry about his teeth-hearing aids-glasses scenario.

Ian has painted and decked out the new bathroom, you won't recognize the navy wall and teal-ish towels. Beautiful.

Easter Sunday came and went without a hitch. Everyone ate too much: Kahlua Pig, Hawaiian cornbread, fried rice, green antioxidant salad and pie -- just to keep it balanced. Ian made an emergency run to the store for egg dye and then proceeded to let Connor dye all the boiled eggs and then all the un-boiled eggs to boot. Sometimes you just can't stop dying eggs. Connor had fun and called Ian "The Best."

You can have a really good life NOT following your passion. Have you noticed how Julia takes on the world? Dabbler deluxe not following a passion, but dabbling in life to its fullest. Besides having a lovely home, lovely couch and lovely bed, she has dabbled with welding, community theater, photography, stitchery, candle making, bird watching, recycling before it was cool, volunteering for The Crystal Bridge activities before it opened, motorcycles, doll making, doll house, gardening, ballet, yoga, hiking, biking, running, and travels. I for one can tell you traveling with Julia is fun and fulsome. And reading, did I leave anything out?

My thought of the day; continue with a messy mind; day dreaming, playing, collaborating, expressing, or sitting in solitude.

I just talked to Jean and Kathy -- trips they be looming.

Here is to a fulsome life, aging gracefully or not.

What a Time, What a Time

What a time, what a time. It was FANTASTIC!

3 states, not counting Washington and Colorado.
4 couches, 3 comfy, 1 ugly.
6 vehicles.
Climbing in and out of SUV's, trucks and vans made my old knees creak.
13 cities.
19 restaurants.
2,000 miles.
17 days.
Didn't count the family, friends, and cousins -- but a bunch.
And everyone loved.
Especially that one wee babe hanging on waiting to be born for as long as possible with mom on complete bed rest.

I said it was a family trip, Jean said it was a foodie trip, I do believe Jean was right. Besides Starbucks and Whataburger we had Cajun, Thai, burgers and fries, chicken and pies and Camarones a La Diabla. My doctor wants blood work but suggested it might be a good idea to wait until I have cleansed my system for a bit. Do you think?

I said I couldn't write it and I can't write it, but here is a peek;

Ian knew the name of the brand of stuffed animal I wanted for Hannah's new baby, since the wee girl doesn't need any more clothes to add to her collection of 200 outfits, I decided to get her a stuffed animal. She doesn't actually need that either, however Jellycat is the brand name and it has been ordered Hannah.

I will never drive in Dallas, Never, N E V E R! Taylor is a fantastic actor and worth the chauffeured drive to Dallas, thank you Jerry. The chorus was hard for me to understand, but Taylor projected like it was Lincoln Center. I only dropped my cane once, but I didn't feel too awful because his mom dropped her water bottle when she went to the play. ST Joan of the Stockyards, yes it offended everyone, but I believe religion fell the farthest from grace. Long long day, long long drive, delicious breakfast at Cindi's, delightful 84 year old Theresa, Jerry and Jane's neighbor, who came along for the adventure and talked about her store bought children. Never mind about the traffic jam.

Jerry also took me around the block a few times before we finally headed to Norman to see Clark. Lunch at Ted's which I have heard about but never been to, Mexican food at its finest and the sweetest image of Clark slipping his arm around his grandmother out of sheer love and affection.

I discovered Arbuckle Mountain Fried Pies drive up window. Yes, they were that good. Like I said, Jean knew it was a foodie trip before I did. By day five I had already been to BJ's for Cathy's birthday lunch,  Cindi's New York Deli and Bakery, Whataburger, Ted's, fried pies and S&B's burger joint in Lawton seeing Chris in all his managerial action, plus we got the manager's discount. His place is delightfully quiet, busy, friendly, helpful and delicious, no, fantastic. Thank you Chris.

One morning at Jerry and Jane's I told the dog snuggled on my lap that she would have to move because I was going to go get me a cup of coffee. Jerry said he would get it for me and did. As he set the cup down with a flourish he said, "See what I will do for my dog?" Ellie must not be disturbed. Jerry also called me "head in the sand, la la land Jan." And told me the dogs would think I was a hot rock if I didn't get up and move off the couch.  Oh the respect I get. However, I saw Jerry get out of his chair when the dog told him to,

I saw Jean make a right turn from the left turn lane. Yep, four lanes, thank God there was no other cars on the road at that time. And they call me a bad driver.

The OKC tour was fantastic, everything has changed. Besides making really really illegal right turns we gawked, backed up the street, drove around the block, and stopped in the middle of the road to gawk some more. Great drive; new revitalization, nostalgic childhood byways, city streets, country lanes, hi-ways, Route 66, parkways, extensions, and Interstate. It was all fantastic.

I saw siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins. A nervous cousin asked me "Are you going to vote for Bernie?" I was afraid to tell him I'm considered a liberal in Seattle and that might make me slightly dangerous in Oklahoma.

I loved Cousin Verla's coaster that said, "Underneath it all I am mostly naked." Fun times. Fantastic family who loves me in spite of...

My two thousand miles of travel went through wind, mist, fog, rain, deluge, monsoon and lots and lots of warm Oklahoma sunshine. The brightest sunshine being the people.

When Amber explained to Taylor that the new baby might be born on his birthday and he might have to share his birthday henceforth Taylor didn't care. He said "She can just have it." I love family.

I visited lots of gray hair, and some bald heads, and a smattering of red heads, it was fun, fun, fun.

Fellowship, fellowship, fellowship.
Food, food, food.
Fun, fun, fun.

I met a waitress at Denny's in Tulsa with the name Weather Cheyenne Angoue Rain Elizabeth Charlotte Val Haag. I had her write it down so I wouldn't forget. Got free coffee out of it. Thank you Charlotte of Denny's in Tulsa.

Jean delivered me to Tulsa, and Tal picked me up as a kindness so I could visit the Arkansas folks. Julia had to work. I remembered the time that Tal picked me up in Chicago when I rode the train up for a visit some 36 years ago when Julia had to work. Thanks again Tal.

And thank you Tal for the dinner I will not soon forget, Camarones a La Diabla. Fantastic

Michael and Branson can light up a house with activity, laughter, affection, and joy. Branson gave me a pink crayola to color with because it matched my pink shirt. It was fantastic. Branson bonded with me but he doesn't love anyone more that Tal, or Grandpa, or Michael, or Mom, or Ed, or Dad. Branson is a loving child.

In cruise ship speak I had a lazy sea day in Arkansas, nothing but relax, talk, and nap. New state, new city, new couch, and a Tal made meal. Julia had to work, again. She is trying to save her PTO for that voyage to Yucatan in December with the rest of the Bowman/Miller family and a possible surgery.

Jeff gave me a driving tour of Punkin Hollow Road,  and, ahem, "J" Street in Bentonville, J Street over and over and over. I was beginning to think the Arkansas family couldn't go to the bathroom without first getting on J Street. Since J Street is the road to everywhere else if you want to go to Nirvana first go to Bentonville and get on J Street. It was the street to UPS where I mailed my paintings home that Julia has saved for over forty years, the street to Starbucks, the restaurant The Station on the Square, The Crystal Bridge Museum, Michael's favorite barista, Jeff's favorite park for Branson, the one without swings.

If you want to see a waitress carry four large iced tea glasses in the palm of one hand have Tal and Julia take you to the Monte Ne Inn for family style fried chicken. She was fantastic, the food was fantastic, the fellowship was fantastic and it was my one sighting of Andrew. I didn't embarrass myself completely. At least I knew what he was talking about part of the time. I had actually heard of the director Jodorowsky and had seen a documentary about him. Whew... dodged that bullet.

Saturday March 12th had to of been my just about perfect day. The meet and greet Jean organized at McNellies in Tulsa with Arkansas and Oklahoma family in attendance. Jeff said, "Now that she sees what she is missing she can just have her ole' sons dinners." Only Jeff, only Jeff. I just keep staring at the two photographs taken that day. The one of the gathering at the table with Tal being Tal, and the one of the siblings outside. Perfect.

I met Chris' mom, Gloria, who refurbished an old refrigerator. A rusted out 1950's refrigerator. I've never met anyone who has done that, or thought about it, or who had a refrigerator to refurbish, or who found the parts she needed, or imagined it. She was amazing, as was the finished project. I might have new inspiration.

After lunch we all got to hang out at The Mayo Building in downtown Tulsa where Chris and Nora have their fantastic apartment even if the bathroom is slightly over Star Wars-ed. I only embarrassed myself three times, and Chris took us on a roof top tour where I was glad Julia was a nervous nellie and protected Branson while I sat and enjoyed the view. Julia is amazing.

Chris and Nora are amazing, they hosted the entire family between an organized morning run and an evening theater date in the middle of planning their Spain-England-New York-Yucatan trips. Thanks you young whippersnappers you.

The quickest quips in the west are Nora and Taylor bantering back and forth. It was enigmatic.

Julia and I took a road trip across the Southwest in about 1973 and kept a foodie diary. Fun stuff then, fun stuff now.

Simple things excite me. On our road trip to Verla's Jean and I saw a flock of wild turkeys, but the best was seeing the roadrunner in the wild leaving the hospital after visiting Hannah.

Remember Hannah and her bedrest? Well Chibi won his fourth professional fight, he is 4 and 0, and they had that beautiful baby girl. Babies are always the best. Welcome to the world, welcome to the family, welcome, welcome Little Elsie.

What a time, what a time.

I Have An Agenda

Just so you know.
On my upcoming trip to Oklahoma I have an agenda.

I want to check out Cathy's hip.
I want to check out Hannah's bump.
I want to check out, well, I want to ask about Julia's colon.

I want the joy and experience of meeting the Arkansas family in Tulsa. I have missed out on that treat for years, Years. So can I go to Tulsa for a family lunch, see some Arkansas folks, see a Texan or two? Would Julia, Tal and Jeff let me visit for a while?

I need a manicure and pedicure. Would anyone join me if I waited to have it done in Oklahoma or should I have it done before I leave? I just think it would be a fun activity to do with some Oklahoma family, but I don't have to.

Do I need to bring dog treats for all those dogs I am going to have to pet?

I'll need to go shopping for Hannah's "wee bird" baby shower. I got the Target list but thought why haul it to Oklahoma when I could probably shop there. Hannah I am not very good at sticking to a list, I get distracted by pink fluff. I'm thinking lots and lots of sweet pink thoughts. Can I shop for a baby shower after I arrive?

I want some evil Oklahoma food: Cheever's, the golden chicken place with sweet tea that Brittany loves that I don't know the name of, fried pies, Hideaway Pizza, B J's in Lawton. And where is that State Fair Food restaurant?

I do have an agenda and hope you will indulge some of it.


The bathroom fix is completed. Roger did the last bit of sanding and texturing yesterday. It is beautiful. New shower surround. New tall toilet. New security bar. New hot water heater. It is beautiful, completed, paid for, admired, and inaugurated.

The initiation commenced without a hitch except the plumbers left on a Friday morning and the new hot water heater leaked onto/into Ian's closet for hours before it was discovered. An emergency visit from the said plumbers discovered the faulty part, it was not workmanship, they fixed the faulty part, and Ian started drying his wardrobe. Now his perfect closet was pretty much strewn all over every chair, counter, bed, and surface. No, he wasn't upset, just pragmatic and fired up the dryer.

Here is the funny part. Ian had so many clothes in his closet to soak up all the water from the leak that it barely affected the neighbors downstairs. The neighbor came up to tell me there was a wet spot, not to complain, but so that I would be aware. It was a kindness. Nice neighbors! Yes, I bought them some Valentine chocolates and a Starbuck's drink card as an apology. Yeah for Ian's clothes, they absorbed most of the potential damage.

It was chaos for a while. After all the chaos of plumbers working, tearing out, installing, going in and out, leaks, Ian's clothes piled everywhere, (You do remember Ian's pristine closet don't you?), it was chaos! Then Roger started sawing sanding texturing building cutting chalking. There were tools dust clothes supplies stuff everywhere. Roger worked all day Saturday, Sunday, and Monday finishing the sheet rock to wed the new shower surround to the rest of the bathroom. My job was to keep Connor entertained while Roger worked. Keep Connor entertained and breath.

Connor was easy, breathing wasn't, with my compromised lungs. Ian went out and bought me a face mask late one evening. Life was much better after that. And now it is done.

I love sons.


I came home one day to some cops stalking around the building. I looked out the window to see if I could see any activity. I couldn't so it is still a mystery.

I saw a vehicle that said "Drink Local Coffee". I think they meant locally roasted coffee because to my knowledge coffee beans don't grow in Washington. Silly vehicle.

My first few weeks of retirement I drove 30 miles according to my vehicle odometer. Ah, retirement.

Lynn and I had breakfast and blessed the fact that we live in a Bacon World.

I woke up one night and my clock said it was 11:11. I loved that. No, it doesn't mean a thing I just loved it anyway. Silly me.

I shared this post on FB, but am also sharing it here in case you missed it because it is so beautiful:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CMUplV73baA
How Great Thou Art by Stikyard. Enjoy.

The new Book Challenge is; since I am getting ready to travel to Oklahoma I wanted a book about travel, but this is the closest I could find on the list: A book set somewhere you have always wanted to visit. 

Now back to Hannah. Hannah can you do bed rest at home or does it have to be in the hospital? Please take a picture of your toes so I can see what you are seeing then you can go back to contemplating your navel. Forty days to go sweet girl you will know your navel very well. See you Saturday.

Let The Wild Rumpus Start

Let the wild rumpus start:

Yep, the bathtub surround is gone, two big dudes came in and ripped it out. It is the beginning of my bathroom improvement. Savings, plus severance, plus tax refund, plus payment from Social Security gave me the confidence to "get 'er done." They said 1 week, Roger said un-uh. They quoted a price, Roger said un-uh. He suggested a good rule of thumb is twice as long, twice as much.

So here is the plan. Get the bathroom finished and then skedaddle to Oklahoma.

It seems as though there is always a reason to celebrate. Super Bowl -- over. Mardi Gras - over. Oscars -- approaching. My celebration will be skedaddling to Oklahoma. Year of the Monkey -- starting.

It seems as though everything is monkey-ish in my world. Is it just me or does everyone need to attempt a task three/four times before it is completed. Example; I wanted a new mail box key and went to my local Post Office to get a new one. She, kindly, said we don't handle that here you have to go to the Post Office in Everett. The lady in Everett, kindly, said we don't do keys we put in a whole new lock and it costs $65.00, but this key you can have made by any locksmith. Where is Kenny when I need him? So I went to Home Depot for a key and out of 9,000 blanks guess which one they didn't have? He, kindly, said Fred Meyer has the same system they should be able to make it for you, but by then I gave up and went home. That was the week I felt like crap. Feeling much better now.

Julia how are you feeling?
Cathy how are you feeling?
How is everyone feeling today?

The saga of the "key" was just one example. Everything else in my life is going just as smoothly. It seems as though it is always effort times three. Whether I'm trying to find something on a website (Advantage insurance anyone? Advantage pharmacies anyone?) or something much more mundane like a new ink cartridge for the printer or a dying DVD player to work. Jean gave me a card one time that said, "Sometimes the only way out is through the muddle." I'm still in the muddle.

"Life is hard even when blessed." I read that on Facebook.

Does anyone else forget to buy what they need to buy and then buy what they don't need? Which is why I have 3 jars of Low Sodium Kikkoman Soy Sauce and no Kikkoman Teriyaki Sauce.

I'm blaming everything on stress and high blood sugar; thirst, headaches, fuzzy concentration, fuzzy vision, fatigue, and stomach troubles. There should be some weight loss in there, but that hasn't happened yet. I put myself on a high protein diet and feel better. Almost a high protein diet, I'll be honest here, I've cheated a bit.

I also cheated on The Book Challenge Book; the one set in the future. I reread one. I reread The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. Love that book. It is one of my comfort books. I really tried to find a book I hadn't read before but fuzzy brain got in the way.

Book club is tomorrow night at my house, I hope they will pardon my dust. This month the book was Gilead. A wonderful, fantastic, lovely, thoughtful, interesting book that I will recommend heartily. I'm glad I read it before my brain became so fragmented.

I read a sentence in a book review and know it is false but I can't quite put my finger on why. Back to fuzzy brain I think."How does the fact that we're all mortal influence the way we think about our lives?' There is an untruth lurking in that phrase that I haven't been able to suss out. The author was talking about the book When Breath Becomes Air, by Dr Paul Kalanithi.

Open letter to Cara who wrote on FB February 8th, "Being a parent is hard..."

Dear Cara, being a parent isn't hard; a little fun in the hay, nine months of incubation, a birthing, and you are a parent. The real true statement is "being a good parent is hard..."

Teething, tantrums, homework, science projects, make up, boys, or girls as the case may be, driving, trust, braces, sickness, dirty socks, dirty rooms, dirty tubs, dangers, divorces -- all of it taking time, thought, guidance, herding, care, patience, kindness, and lots and lots of love can be and will be exhausting to the good parent.

Sorry young lady but you have already chosen your path -- the hard path. Not being in the middle, or muddle as the case may be, but gazing at you from some distance, a vantage point of perspective, you have lots more to get sucked out of you before it is over, it is all renewable resources so just hang on. You are in the midst of a wild rumpus.

Now I am going to go make soup for The Bear Book Club meeting here tomorrow night.
When the rumpus is over I'll be in Oklahoma.
Ahhh the rewards of muddling through.

Love to all

A Life Worth Living

I recently wrote on this blog, January 13th to be exact on a blog entry which is now gone for reasons I can't fathom, "There are a thousand thousand reasons to live this life, everyone sufficient." by Marilynne Robinson from Gilead. I loved that quote from before I was laid off.

What now? The old life is behind me now. I'm developing new rhythms and patterns and I don't even know what my natural patterns are. I need to find out -- slowly. I don't really know what time I like to go to bed, or what time I like to get up. I'm willing to find out, but it has been so long, if ever, maybe never, that my rhythms weren't dictated by outside forces.

Husbands going off to work, I made Lonnie a fried egg sandwich every day for five or six years. I would ask him, "Aren't you tired of fried egg sandwiches?" and he kept saying "No, I'll let you know when I am." Then one day he asked for a bologna sandwich for work which I made for him everyday until the day he died. Then babies, babies, and more babies. Babies can dictate a lot of demands on your rhythms. Husbands, babies, toddlers, school age children, college, work, alarm clocks were the influences for most of my life, not my internal patterns.

How interesting -- learning about what really feels natural.

I can't remember if or when I've taken my medicine, what day the 27th is on. I almost missed Cathy's surgery because I thought the 27th was on a Friday not a Wednesday. Ian and I are passing each other in the hall more, used to I was gone or he was gone. Now it's different. A lot different, and its only been two weeks, not even a full two weeks. I'm spending more time on FB, more time on meal planning, less time on soup for lunches. Less time on grooming, sad to say. More all day PJ time. When do I get up, have breakfast, walk? I walked yesterday, another teeny tiny walk, from the back of the parking lot all the way to Target, all through Target and then back across the parking lot to the car. Not far, but walk I did.

Get more plants, go back to school, travel, vistas and horizons and opportunities surround me.

Most of my myriad tasks have been started, all their engines are running, all their buttons are pushed. Nothing completed mind you, no box ticked off as done and filed away, still dribs and dabs of loose ends, one more call, one more signature, one more cancellation, one more, one more, one more.

Would Jean like to go on another cruise. A drive across America. A trip to New Mexico, Minnesota? See Claire? All are possibilities.

I want to embrace the nobility and meaning of everyday life, the challenge and excitement of discovering the nobility and meaning of everyday life, the rhythms, the sunsets and sunrises, the Wednesday playdate, the well cooked meal. The simple act of living.

A well lived life is in the everyday. Making a fried egg sandwich, soothing a child, going to work, paying bills, it is all satisfying. I read someplace that there is more to life then going to work and paying bills, but really there isn't. A thousand years ago we had to go to work and pay the bills. The bills remain the same, food shelter clothing. We live, we pay.

Before enlightenment we chop wood and carry water, after enlightenment we chop wood and carry water.

New going to bed, getting up, bathing, taking a nap rhythms. Remember to put in hearing aids. Ian brought me a nice bar of soap, a really nice bar of wonderfully linden scented soap (he gets swag from his buying trips). Now I have to go find out what linden actually is -- retirement -- sigh.

I actually managed to stay mostly asleep in my bed till 5 AM this morning. That is mostly success. That might be a rhythm. What now? Same old, same old -- living -- but with new rhythms.

My life has changed before, more than once, and I suppose it will change again, but for now I'm doing the same old, same old. And the beat goes on. Grey skies stay the same, clouds still pass by, weather will come and go, traffic on I-5 remains unchanged, Humans are still born and still die and linden is a tree sometimes called lime tree and sometimes called basswood tree due to the linage of language not because it is related to a lime.

"There are a thousand thousand reasons to live this life, every one sufficient" I love that more now.

Mr Harris Hugged Me.

Mr Harris hugged me and the Sun came out.

The 37 minutes Mr Harris spent with me changed my life forever. He did that with listening, probing, and asking the right questions. Doing his job with grace and kindness.

Kindness is never forgotten.

Mr Harris discovered I was being underpaid with my Social Security benefits. I had signed up wrong. It means the difference of below poverty level to just comfortable.

You may remember him in your prayers tonight.

I walked out in a daze. The Sun was shining. I heard there was a rainbow, but I didn't see it.
I didn't need to see it.
Intelligence, integrity, he said he was just doing his job. The fact that he probed just a bit deeper was of invaluable service to me. Sometimes the right answer isn't the obvious answer floating on the surface. Sometimes it is deeper.

Our very own Mark Harris told me to "progress toward bliss."
Kindness and bliss are much on my mind right now Mark Harris.

"It is better to be kind than to be right." I forget where that quote comes from.

Mr Harris at Social Security was so pleased with himself he came out from behind the bullet proof glass and gave me a hug much to the astonishment of the waiting room crowd. Much to my astonishment.

I believe there is much kindness in the world and not always recognized, noticed or seen. Kindness to children, animals, the elderly, trees. Kindness in listening, helping, giving, serving, appreciating. Kindness doesn't take work. It is just a state of being.

There is a type of kindness that does take a lot of work, if you feed the hungry, adopt a hospice infant, or are an NGO in a hostile location, but it doesn't have to. Kindness doesn't come with baggage. It doesn't have a hidden agenda. It just is.

Some of my deepest regrets are when I failed to be kind.

Forever kindness is a gift we can give the world and forever make it a better place.

And Now It Begins

And now it begins -- with a hicup or two.

Retirement?
Printer is out of ink.
Pharmacy gave me the wrong prescription.
I entered the wrong account number for unemployment benefits.
VCR died.
I only used the beautiful new alarm clock Ian gave me for three weeks.
Depression is seeping in.
I waited 45 minutes to talk to the wrong 401K company.
Insomnia.
I'm running out of dishwasher soap because I'm dirtying more dishes.

Depression is in.
I can't believe how depressed I am. I need to push eight buttons to begin and can't seem to push anyone of them. All of them seem to have a roadblock I need to overcome.

I will overcome them -- I just haven't yet.

My orchid that has been naked for four months, now has two new buds on it.
I've gone on tiny walks three days in a row.
My body doesn't hurt. My smart friend told me all the tension I've been carrying around waiting for Onlineshoes to move to the final destination, is now gone.
I haven't driven on I-5 once in over a week.

My social life is ramping up.
Coffee with Mary.
Playdate with Connor.
The Rusty Pelican with James.
Northgate Mall play area to meet Hope's son. And see Hope.
Meeting friends in the similar situation and with sympathetic vibes.
Friends who understand the spot I am in.
It is all good.

I tell myself, It's okay to do it badly.

New opportunities.
Stephanie sent me a Linkedin list of possible job suggestions: all of them good and some of them I would never have thought of.
Roger had good suggestions, and a few threats.
Mary had good suggestions, and no threats.
Ian brings me nighttime coffee if he is passing our favorite barista before it closes.

Back to Social Security I go for the final piece of my insurance.
Plan D.

Who knew being retired would be such hard work.

My two favorite "hard work" quotes;
The first time I tried hiking up Elk Mountain in The Wichita Wilderness Wildlife Refuge with baby Ian on my back and Christian circling me with energy, excitement, and anticipation an old fellow passed me by and said, "Hard Verk, hard verk." Yep, he had that right.

The second is from the movie Millions where the young boy found lots and lots and lots of money, millions actually. He wanted to do good while his brother wanted to buy investment property. Towards the end, when all seems in shambles, he tells his dad. "Giving it away was hard."

The sun will come out. I'll go to back to SS, I'll complete all my required unemployment obligations and sign up properly. I'll start my clean out campaign, buy some computer ink, get a new VCR, walk, go back to the pharmacy and get the correct apparatus for diabetes monitoring, have some coffee, laugh with a friend, and possibly eat a biscuit. I have already corrected my account number.

One down and several more to go. Well one more to go: I just need to tackle the biggest bug-a-boo;
which Advantage program, which Advantage program, which Advantage program. 

I was told once the only thing you need to overcome depression is walk, talk, and write.
Seems to work for me. New emotional energy is a blessed thing.

That's all.
And a very good morning to you.