Written In Lynden

My Top 10 Tips to avoid cleaning out your closet

2012-02-09T10:41:00.000-08:00

10. Make yourself some scrambled eggs with a little feta sprinkled on top. Eat leisurely.
9. Clean out old files. Throw away annual car insurance documents dating back to 2003, excluding the current one, of course.
8. Wander around the house making mental notes on what you need to make the house look better. Marvel at how messy your daughter's room is.
7. Check airfare to Mexico just in case there's a good deal lurking. Feel disappointed.
6. Eat a peanut butter sandwich with homemade raspberry jam spread on Dave's Killer Bread. ( http://www.daveskillerbread.com/ ). Eat slowly.
5. Pour yourself a diet Dr. Pepper and gaze out your window at your perfect dog lounging happily on the grass taking in the sites. Smile and feel happy.

4. Poof up the pillows on the family room furniture and fold the afghan neatly on the back of the sofa. Admire the order.
3. Go to online banking, check balance and see what payments have gone through recently. Feel a little depressed.
2. Turn on music and make chocolate chip cookie dough for your son. Nibble a little bit here and there. Feel much better.
And the #1 thing to do to avoid cleaning out your closet is.....
Write a post on your blog.

Sometimes I wonder what women are thinking!

2012-02-03T06:00:00.000-08:00

I want to distance myself from my gender for a while. This Sunday Lily has a gymnastics meet in Seattle and as we all know, except for the @$#! women who scheduled this competition, it's also Super Bowl Sunday. Don't you think that someone would have noticed this and said to the other organizers - Hey guys! This is Super Bowl Sunday. I bet the parents of the competitors may want to watch the biggest football game of the year. How 'bout we schedule the meet on the following Sunday, ok? A man would have never made this mistake. It's shameful.

I'm tempted to boycott the whole shebang but I want to see Lily do things like this. She would also be very mad at me if I refused to take her and believe me, it gets ugly around here when she's angry so I'll drive the 120 miles at 6:00 am and sit anxiously through the 5 hour event then drive like a bat out of hell (but safely, Safety Man) to get home by the second half. Wish us both luck, will ya?

It's a mean streak

2012-02-02T09:12:00.000-08:00

My hot water heater is leaking and needs to be replaced. The pot filler that's over my range also has a leak and needs replacing. My concrete counter was smacked by a heavy pot and has a big chip out of the edge which needs to be repaired. My kids' upstairs shower was leaking through our recessed lights in the kitchen and needs to be ripped out and re-tiled. The pipes in the well house froze during the big storm which leaves us with bad water and yet another repair job. With the exception of my counters, my troubles are all water related. Do I hear the theme song to Jaws in the background?
.

Joe is 16 Today

2012-01-31T06:00:00.000-08:00

   With Joe, still waters run deep. He quietly goes through life doing his thing without much fanfare. Since he doesn't share anything deeply personal or even remotely private with me, I'm left with my observations and a powerful maternal intuition to figure him out.
    Joe is shy about his accomplishments and never toots his own horn so I'll toot it for him. Having played drums for several years, the boy can play a mean set. I'm told by the musicians at the music store that he's the best student they have. The kid is also very good at Jiu Jitsu and kickboxing. Safety Man tells me that our son is a natural at his sport, taking on much bigger, older and more experienced opponents. Grappling with men that far outweigh him with bulk and experience should be intimidating but Joe practises what he's been taught and earns respect from these big guys.
   It's clear that when it comes to school he's not there to prove anything to us or his teachers. When he was in the 1st grade, I tried hard to persuade him to compete in the school's spelling bee because of his perfect test scores all year. He would have mopped the floor with the other six year old kids and made this mama proud. But no, he refused to spend anymore time at school then what was necessary. Blue ribbons be damned. He does what he needs to do to keep us, his parents content and off his back. He knows that good grades are his ticket to ride - That is to drive - so he's doing very well at the moment.

    My pride in Joe really swells when I watch him with the little ones in the family. He'll sacrifice whatever electronic device he's playing with and hang out with the little buggers when they come jumping. I can barely stand it when I see little four year old Lucy crawl into his lap and lay her head on his shoulders in church. His smile is made from somewhere deep in his soul.
    I want to be very clear on this next point. There's no question that this child of mine is his fathers son. Snidely, I call him "Mini Me", because they drive me bat crazy sometimes. Whenever SM and I have a "difference of opinion", the kid feels free to weigh in. Here's an example:

                                              Me: Let's have chicken for dinner on Sunday.
                                              SM: We just had chicken.
                                              Me: That was turkey.
                                              Joe: Poultry. It's the same thing.
    When SM is away from home, Joe will quickly ask when he'll be returning. He's always checking on his dad. There are disputes between the two of them, don't let me lead you astray, but Joe LOVES his dad and knows how blessed he is to have a father who's very in tune with teenage boys especially when it comes to vulgar bodily functions.

I mentioned that Joe plays drums but no commentary on him can be complete without mentioning finger drumming. Oh man! He can find a beat anywhere, anytime on/with anything. In the car he beats his hands on his legs. In church he taps his fingers on his head. At the table he taps out a beat under his chair...... you understand, don't you? At least twice a day, everyday, I say pleadingly - Joe, will you please stop tapping. I will miss him terribly when he heads off to college in two short years and will be equally happy to share his prolific tapping talent with others.

.
    As I wrap up this bragfest, I need to add a few other attributes that describe my first born. He's funny, kind, very good at impressions (especially British) and appreciative. He doesn't ask for much. Oh! and one more important thing. He bugs his sister like a pro. I bet he'd say that this is what he does best. I know Lily would agree.
   I hope I did a good job sharing my observations with you. He is one hell of a good kid and I love him to pieces.
                                 Happy birthday, Joe and please drive safely.

                                                   Love,
                                                   Mom

Photo Shop and Ansel Adams

2012-01-19T08:00:00.000-08:00

Let's face it folks, there's people like me who can take a picture, doctor it up and make it look nice then there's Ansel Adams. A master!

There are advantages to being snowed in.

2012-01-18T11:31:00.000-08:00

1. After my shower this morning I dressed myself in old sweats, an old T shirt, and old comfy socks. And I dared not to put on a bit of make up. Sure I startled myself when I inadvertently glanced in the mirror but it's well worth the scare even if I do look very old.
2.
I thought I'd have a long list of advantages but my mind has suddenly drawn a blank. Now my thoughts are wandering into unknown territory, turning very ugly indeed. I'm thinking I should be productive and clean my cabinets, organize the pantry and dust out the cobwebs lurking in my corners. Slowly, I'm realizing there's no escape. Is this what it feels like to go insane?

Whose idea was this?

2012-01-17T21:39:00.000-08:00

I, too, drove the go-cart. There's no evidence of this because I can't take a picture of myself. I put the metal to pedal (or is it - pedal to the metal or petal to the medal?) and skidded around the corral a few times as the donkeys stood confused and frightened in the northern corner. Don't worry, you! We were very safe. Safety Man gave us goggles and made sure we were securely belted in.

The first snow of the year is here and it's a good one.

2012-01-16T18:05:00.000-08:00

Does my butt look big in this moo moo?

2012-01-13T10:50:00.000-08:00

My Aunt Betty introduced me to moo moo's when I was but a wee child. It's all I remember her wearing. It may be all she could wear, unfortunately. So it's not surprising that I felt ...well.....matronly buying this garment yesterday. After succumbing to pure gluttony during the holidays and finally finishing off a deliciously rich peppermint fudge ice cream cake last weekend I was drawn to the freedom only a moo moo could give me. My children and Safety man weren't sure what to make of it. What is it?, they asked when I proudly strolled into the kitchen after my bubble bath. I told them it was fancy lounge wear and pretended it was fabulous.

P.S. It's a "one size fits all". I love that.

A Day in the Life of a Mountain

2012-01-12T09:13:00.000-08:00

Some Good Books

2012-01-10T10:34:00.000-08:00

In my Good Books section I've listed two books that I thought were exceptional - Mink River and Unbroken. Below are a couple of reviews if you're interested.
http://www.powells.com/biblio/9780870715853

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/11/15/books/15book.html

In addition to these remarkable stories, I'm recommending an author who writes mysteries. I found that after the hectic holidays it's been refreshing to plunge into light weight, intriguing mysteries. I'm currently on my third by L.R. Wright - The Suspect, A Touch of Panic and Strangers Among Us.

Happy reading.

Maximilian David Jones

2012-01-06T12:23:00.000-08:00

I drove my nephew's son, Max, who is the oldest of the nine cousins, to our house after Kindergarten recently. Here's a snipet of our conversation:

Me: What was the best part of your day, Max?
Max: It was music class. We acted out Peter and the Wolf. I was the wolf. My best friend, Justin was the duck. The wolf eats the duck. (Pause) I told Justin that I'd be the duck next time, so we both get eaten. I like Justin but he stares a lot with his mouth half open.....like my dad.
Me: Your dad stares with his mouth half open?
Max: Yea. He does. (Nodding his head enthusiastically) I say - Daaaad! You're doing it again! You're staring with your mouth half open. My dad says he's thinking when he does that. I believe him. I believe everything my dad says.
Me: As you should, Max. As you should.
Special note: Max's mom & dad have 3 kids who are 5 (Max), 4 (Lucy) and almost 3 (Harvey). I'd be staring with my mouth half open, too.

It's Beautiful Here This Morning

2012-01-05T08:49:00.000-08:00

Even my perfect dog, Kicks, is enjoying what today brings to us.

A lot of December Pictures - Raw - Unedited- As We Are - The Good, The Bad & The Not So Pretty

2012-01-04T09:52:00.000-08:00

My Dad And His Things

2011-12-21T18:27:00.000-08:00

   My dad died over 15 years ago on November 15, 1996, the year my first child was born. It's not surprising that I miss him more during the holidays but this year, I don't know why, I feel the loss even more deeply than in recent years.
Last Sunday I was at my sisters house watching football with her boys, wearing my dads well worn USC sweatshirt, as I usually do on game day. This poor sweatshirt is but a rag from it's glory days when my dad wore it on the weekends doing his chores and watching USC win in the Pac10. Sadly, my pathetic attempts to clean my bad cooking habits from it's cuffs with diluted bleach have had very bad effects. As I was sitting out on the patio visiting with my sister at half time, her husband walked by with a shoulder full of vintage Christmas lights. He beamed and said, "I'm hanging Willard's lights." Chris, God love him, painstakingly fixed all the broken bulbs and proceeded to string my dad's lights for his Grandchildren to enjoy; my dad's great grand kids. I told him that he may have his lights but I was wearing Willard's sweatshirt - to which my sister added, Chris wins. He's wearing Willard's tennis shoes. We don't want to let go.
   Yesterday I got a Christmas box from my sister in law, Micky that included my dad's old USC Alumni license plate holders that she had held onto all these years. In my barn sits my dad's pride and joy, a classic Century ski boat that could tell some tales. My nephew has my dad's old Chevy pick up truck that my mom was embarrassed to be seen in. Clearly, we don't want to let go.
   I know it's not the material things that keeps us close to my dad but every time I put on that ratty old sweatshirt I feel better. It's a little like a hug from from Heaven.
   Merry Christmas, Willard. We love you.

Bob Dylan - Thunder On The Mountain

2011-07-30T22:32:00.000-07:00

This may be the best song ever written.
Never mind. It IS the best song ever written. For sure.

My morning dialog with Lily.

2011-07-16T10:37:00.000-07:00

Lily is getting dressed to go to town, meet some friends and attend the local Raspberry Festival. She explains that she wants to be casual and comfortable. She begins getting ready at 8:30.

Lily: Mom?
Me: Yes?
Lily: Should I wear this gray sweatshirt or my Santa Cruz sweatshirt?
Me: Your Santa Cruz sweatshirt.
Lily: If I wear this gray one instead, should I wear my white belt or brown one?
Me: Your brown one.
Lily: Are you just saying that to stop me from asking more questions?
Me: No, I lie.
She goes upstairs. Later -
Lily: Mom?
Me: Yes?
Lily: Should I wear my Santa Cruz sweatshirt with this white belt or the gray sweatshirt with the brown belt?
Me: I like the Santa Cruz sweatshirt.
Lily: Why?
Me: Because I think it's hip.
Lily: (Smirks) Mom?
Me: Yes?
Lily: Whenever you say "hip" it defeats the purpose.
Me: IT LOOKS GOOD.
Lily: Okay! You don't need to yell.
Upstairs she goes. Later -
Lily: Mom?
Me: Yes?
Lily: If I wear the gray sweatshirt should I wear the white belt or the brown one?
Me: The white one.
Lily: Why?
Me: Because it looks good.
Lily: But I've worn the white one the last 3 times.
Me; Then wear the brown one.
Lily: But only Annikah and Cassidee have been around to see the white one....
Me: What shoes are you wearing?(Trying hard to feign interest.)
Lily: My Vans
Me: Wear the white belt.
Lily: Are you sure?
Me: Yes.
Lily: Okay...
She appears content and dashes upstairs. Later -
Lily: Hey Mom?
Me: Yes?
Lily: Maybe I should wear this white sweatshirt.
Me: Ok.
Lily: What do you think?
Me: I think it looks nice.
She disappears upstairs. Later -
Lily: Can we leave in 10 minutes? (That would be 10:50)
Me: Yes.
Lily: I've decided to wear this. (Gray sweatshirt and brown belt.)
Me: Ok. You look very nice.
Lily: But this hood is really uncomfortable..........

I think I'll try to get a prescription for Valium when Prom time rolls around.

Stealing material

2011-07-11T20:07:00.000-07:00

This is their material.

This is mine.

My nephews children have more......appeal.

See what I mean?

You'd think it was a soccer game in Europe.

2011-06-16T09:05:00.000-07:00

VANCOUVER -- Angry Canucks fans are on a rampage, smashing windows, looting and torching cars and dumpsters on the streets of downtown Vancouver.

http://www.vancouversun.com/news/Downtown+Vancouver+Rocked+Stanley+Post+Game+Riot/4953593/story.html#ixzz1PSHR0Bgl

Just a few miles north of us, hockey is taken very seriously.

A random cooking observation

2011-06-13T20:16:00.000-07:00

This reminded me of sperm. Sorry. Maybe it's all of the Anthony Weiner press lately.

I crushed and minced it in my mushrooms and onions that topped off our mini burgers.

It's about time.

2011-06-11T15:26:00.000-07:00

Safety Man has found someone who appreciates his dry, sophisticated humor. Finally.

He's a happy man.

I don't know what got into me.

2011-05-31T08:26:00.000-07:00

Limbo, Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Anger, Heresy, Violence, Fraud and Treachery! These are the 9 Circles of Hell made famous by Dante Alighieri in his famed masterpiece, Dante’s Inferno, his first story of The Divine Comedy. Dante’s Inferno: This epic will take you on a harrowing trip through Hell as Dante braves the forces of evil, slaying demons and monsters of extraordinary imagination.

I've started to read the Divine Comedy. I can't wait to get to Paradise. So far, Hell has definitely been a big bummer.

Today is a Big Day

2011-05-21T06:00:00.000-07:00

Safety Man calls her Lilylalaylilylavaro.

Joe calls her Pookiewaddles Onion Breath.

I call her Lily Jane Taylor

She is 13 - kind, appreciative, self driven and a little obsessive. She's perceptive, curious, self sufficient and a teeny bit manipulative. She's quick, clever and very confidant. I know she's not perfect but she seems perfect to me.

When she was 6, Lily took guitar lessons for a short lived 6 months. It was enough time for her to write these lyrics and give me some insight into what goes on in her itty bitty head.

                                                        Do you expect me to believe in you?
                                                        I know what a joke you are.
                                                        When I'm done talking to you...
                                                       frogs will croak...
                                                        dogs will bark...
                                                        people all over the world
                                                        will know what a fraud you are.
                                                        Oh yeah,
                                                        when I'm done talking to you
                                                        you'll be in a jail cell
                                                       with nothing to do...
                                                        when I'm done talking to you.

                                                            Lily Taylor/ October 2005

It has a nice ring to it, don't ya think? I don't know ( or want to know) who she's referring to but she did share that the movie, "School of Rock" inspired her because she heard the word "fraud" for the first time and liked it.
When she was 3, Lily was strapped in her car seat while I was driving. She had objected to being restrained but sat patiently for a while then announced - Mom, I want to take your head off and put it on me then I'd put my head on you. That way I'd be the boss.
Luckily for Safety Man and me that thought must have been fleeting for to this day our heads are still safely attached.

She's an interesting person. I love that about her.

Lily has no, nada, zilch patience for the great music I listen to but I'm sending her this song anyway. ~ May you always be courageous, stand up right and be strong. May you stay forever young.

May you always see the light surrounding you.

I love you, Lily Jane Taylor.

Happy birthday.

Random May

2011-05-17T11:37:00.000-07:00

The Cherry blossoms are falling.

They fall like showers and coat the yard with a thick snowing of pink. Safety Man loves it but I focus on the rotting mess in a few weeks.

Our neighbors chickens are visiting often. Lucky for us we got a dozen fresh eggs left on our patio last weekend.

My peonies are getting ripe to bloom soon. I can't wait.

Did I mention that I'll have a teenage daughter on May 21?

The Band, The Weight

2011-05-09T20:57:00.000-07:00

I really hate to brag, but my tulips are BEAUTIFUL!

2011-05-04T20:34:00.000-07:00

Easter 2011

2011-04-25T10:01:00.000-07:00

I took only a few pictures this Easter and most of them were of sweet Lucy. She's very cooperative.

Mary - Patty Griffin

2011-04-22T19:50:00.000-07:00

Good Friday

2011-04-22T19:43:00.000-07:00

Cleaning Chronicles - Part 4

2011-04-18T18:41:00.000-07:00

     I'm starting to notice that my house is getting much dirtier since Bev, the professional, is no longer with us.
I see terrible things like dust building up on the baseboards and gunky corners under my kitchen cabinets AND cob webs above my bed, on my hanging lights and in my laundry room. Dirt, dust and grime. Oh my! Hey! Speaking of grime, did you know that the big ol' stainless steel fan hood above my range needs to be cleaned? I found out that it's VERY greasy up there. A tricky contortionist position needs to be held in order to reach into it's nasty crevasses and a shower cap should be worn at all times. The last time I swept my mudroom floor I collected enough of dirt/ bark/ school papers/dirty socks/& something resembling an old chewed up yellow Starburst - to fill a small pool. My bathroom mirrors look better with the splatter of spittle then they do with the dreadful cleaning streaks. None of this is good. Neither my competency nor my attitude is improving. I'm simply not made for this kind of work.
     I'm thinking that I may need a real job. What would be better than cleaning my house? Animal control officer in the Everglades? Maybe. Publicist for Charlie Sheen? Perhaps. Rodeo clown? Absolutely. Let me know if you're hiring. Oh, and if you're blessed with a cleaning lady you should give her a big hug today.

~ Poor Pathetic Me.

What's wrong here?

2011-04-14T08:06:00.000-07:00

Today is April 14.

My tulips are confused.

My cherry blossoms are concerned.

This can't be good for the berries.

Ethel, on the other hand, seems to be rolling with the weather quite well.

Burrrr.

This is craziness.

A Day at the Park

2011-04-13T20:49:00.000-07:00

If I loved these babies anymore my heart would burst.

Kathryn Elizabeth (Ochs) Wilcut 1902 - 1994

2011-04-10T01:00:00.000-07:00

My grandmother (Gram) was born on April 10, 1902 in Salt Lake City, Utah. Her father worked in various mines as a supervisor, which meant that they - she, her parents and brother - lived in various western mining towns while her dad supported the family. When Gram was very young, they left Long Beach, CA via covered wagon and settled for a time in Grants Pass, Oregon. She told us a tragic story of a neighbor woman who left her baby on a blanket nearby while she hung laundry to dry. Gram said that a bear snatched the poor child from it's rest and carried it off into the woods never to be found. The men hunted fervently for the baby and bear but failed to find either in the dense Oregon wilderness.

In 1906, Gram's family was on a boat travelling down the Pacific expecting to dock in San Francisco but were diverted from landing because of the great earthquake and fire. Their boat continued south and eventually her family settled in southern California where she spent most of her life.

I remember vague stories of my grandmothers younger brother Jack, who was a traveller and adventurer. Though I never heard what he did on these journeys, I was told that after a trip to the Middle East no one ever heard from him again. My dad tried to find some record of his death but he could never find an explanation for his disappearance. This is still a mystery to our family.

My Grandmother was an exceptionally quiet, gentle and patient soul. She would often say to us - Patience is a virtue seldom found in a woman but never in a man. - She had the rare virtue of patience.

As a young woman she was accepted to art school in Chicago but before she left California she met the man who would be my grandfather. He lived across the street from her and they married before she ventured east. I remember Gram painting beautiful landscapes of wheat colored land and barns in the background. She painted trees, mountains and ponds but was always very modest about her beautiful, careful work. A widow in her early 50's, she lived near my parents in the Bay Area. When my parents found their dream home in Walnut Creek she sold her house, the only asset she had, to give my parents the down payment to the home we lived in for over 30 years. Gram was a soft and constant fixture through out my childhood. She took me to Golden Gate Park and the various San Francisco museums every year. While on the bus, (She didn't drive.) I remember her whispering in my ear to remind me to give up my seat to the older woman who just got on. I have memories of her sitting at our kitchen table, delicately smoking Virginia Slims rarely talking but listening and smiling.

At Christmas she'd take on the tedious job of shelling the almonds that we'd fry for salted snacks and meticulously plucking the crab from it's shell for our crab cocktail. When asked if she'd like a sandwich or something to eat she always answered no. "Come on, Gram. I'm sure you're hungry... may I please get you something?" "Oh, maybe toast with a little butter and jelly would be nice", she'd finally concede. She was an enigma in our family of mostly impatient, loud, opinionated, big eaters.(Sorry. It's true.) At Christmas we all struggled to find gifts for her. In spite of her insistence that Christmas should be reserved for children and for those more needy, we'd buy her fancy soap, bath powder or a new robe that she'd save "for good". She unwrapped each gift slowly, never tearing the paper then she'd fold the paper for later use. After she died she had stacks of "good" soap and robes - never used.

My Grandmother also had the most beautiful hands. I only remember them when they were old, with blue veins popping through her thin, fragile, paper-like skin, but still they were so lovely with her long, thin fingers and perfectly shaped and manicured fingernails. She took very good care of her fingernails, filing and carefully painting them brilliant colors. This was the only evidence of vanity I ever saw in her. These hands were always busy with her painting, various needlework projects or helping in the kitchen. I also remember her sitting in my parents wing back chair. She'd clasp her fingers then rest her hands in her lap and twirl her thumbs. She'd sit silently, rotating her thumbs, eventually closing her eyes. "Gram, are you tired? Are you ready for bed?", we'd ask. "Oh no, honey, I'm just resting my eyes.", she'd say.

Minutes after Lily was born, she was given to me to cradle in my arms. Tears welled in my eyes when I saw her hands. God gave my daughter my grandmothers beautiful hands.

I admire my grandmother for her patience and quiet, generous spirit. I wish she was here today. I would ask her so many more questions about her life and about her. I loved her and miss her. When she grew old and couldn't manage to live on her own she moved into my parents house. I was given the gift of helping to care for her the last few years of her life. When she was 92 and failing, hospice came to help her let go of this life. She explained to us that she couldn't leave Patsy - my mom - who would care for her, she asked? This was such a poignant message for me. In this subtle way she taught me the most important lesson one mother can give to another - that our love (and concern) is everlasting. Along with her spirit, my grandmother's name lives on through my niece Kathryn Elizabeth and my son's middle name,Wilcut.
Happy birthday, Gram.

A side note:
On Gram's 6th birthday the Titanic hit the iceberg and sank - April 10, 1912

When It Don't Come Easy

2011-03-21T19:02:00.000-07:00

For Melissa, Rosemary, Sharon, Margie & Karen.

Time keeps moving from a crawl to a run.

                                                     You're out there walking down a highway.
                                                               All the signs got blown away.
                                       Sometimes you wonder if you're walking in the wrong direction.

Coincidence? You decide.

2011-03-08T12:55:00.000-08:00

Lily will be a teenager on May 21.

My submission for the Real Simple magazine essay contest that I didn’t win. -

2011-02-19T08:00:00.000-08:00

                                         Lucy, Ethel, Little Ricky and My Family
   My name is Jan and I have donkeys. I didn't want them, but my normally reasonable husband insisted. Is there a support group that? After buying a home on four acres in the wide open farm land of northern Washington, with a barn and corral, John immediately leaped to the irritating conclusion that we needed animals. In spite of my profound objections and pleading for dignity he bought two miniature donkeys, naming them Lucy and Ethel. It was a decisive win for him and a blow to my normally impressive tally in the marital compromise arena. Four months later Little Ricky was born. The previous donkey owner delivered my hubby's two new lady pals to the corral then he gleefully waved his hand out the window, with $750 dollars tucked in his pocket, and shouted, "I think you may have a surprise in the spring!" Sure enough, four months later Lucy had a baby boy. It's all the more special that our new little jack ass was born on my dear husband's birthday. Now my formally respectable and balanced life is teetering on the brink of Green Acre-dom.

   The path to country life was paved with my fervent desire to move near my family, who all migrated to the Pacific Northwest from the northern California suburbs over the past several years. I was the lone survivor living a comfortable and familiar suburban lifestyle. I liked my life, living close to my good friends, an assortment of excellent restaurants and tons of darn good shopping to boot. But my pull to be near my siblings and mother was even stronger than my gravitational pull to Nordstrom's. I needed them in my daily life and I wanted to raise my kids in the folds of an extended family. But, of course, being a married woman I had to convince my husband that moving from everything he had known was a good idea. Who would have guessed what the trade off would be? Donkeys weren't on my radar.

   When I was in my lobbying mode to transplant my family, I imagined buying an old Craftsman style home on a hill near Western Washington University in the artsy, hip college town of Bellingham. I thought of the hilly neighborhoods that would remind me of the Bay area, with views of Puget Sound and the San Juan Islands and quirky, independent book stores and coffee shops with in walking distance of our new home. I thought I'd have friends next door to share kid stories with over a glass of wine in the evenings and a block of neighborhood kids to play with our children. I never suspected that city boy was conjuring up his own vision of heaven on Earth that included a barn, tractor and manure.

   It took about 8 years but John finally came on board with the big move. He retired from a position he held for over 20 years and was open to embracing a new life 900 miles from the place he had always called home. He agreed to move here where my mom, 3 siblings with spouses, nieces, nephews and a new generation of their children lived. He was/is a brave and strong man. The tricky part came when we started to search for our new home. It was funny how we never discussed our perceptions of what our new home should look like. This communication faux pas was a zinger. Our realtor was a confused man jumping from my idea of the ideal home to John's. In the end, of course, I agreed that hubby should have his little slice of country paradise. After all, he moved here to plant me near my kin, the least I could do was give him space to roam and a shop in a barn to hide from all of us. There was, however, no mention of donkeys while we signed the papers to the new homestead. We were in the house about month when he told me of his plan and only a few short months after that when Lucy and Ethel arrived. I was blind sided.

   We settled into our new life in the country with clear views of the Cascades to the East and the Canadian range to the north. We enjoy the fresh, crisp air, wide open spaces and a quieter life. I've grown to love it here. Outside my kitchen window, I see my neighbors charming black and white dairy cows scattered on the hill near their big red barn and snow capped Mt Baker gleaming at me throughout the day. It's beautiful. It's beautiful and strange. As I drive up my long gravel drive, past the corral, I see Lucy, Ethel and Little Ricky grazing in the pasture and think, - Wow. You never know where your life may lead. I'm often asked by my friends back home, "Why donkeys?" The answer is simple. John likes them.

   On July 5^th, 2010 I got an early morning call from my sister. I heard the panic in her voice when she said, "Kirby's been hurt." Her oldest son is a Captain in the army and has served three tours in war zones including Iraq and Afghanistan. This was the call we have dreaded since he joined in 2001. That morning his vehicle was blown up by an IED. The explosion killed two men, critically injuring another and seriously injuring my nephew and another soldier. I was with my sister soon after that call and camped in her living room for days while she and her husband frantically made calls to get information on their son's condition then made travel arrangements to get to him. I was here for her when she needed me. I was where I needed to be. I've been near my family to share the joys of the graduations, weddings and the baby's births. I've been here for the disappointments, illnesses and troubles. Gratefully, I always have a packed house during the holidays which is filled with stories of my dad, who passed away years ago, but who is brought back to us through our shared love for him and the familiar stories. I've been tucked into my family for all of it. But the greatest gift of all is that my kids are an integral part of this extended family that will give them a precious love and security through out their lives.

   John generously gave this to me. He gave this gift to all of us and in return I have to live with a few donkeys. It was a good trade. And to be completely honest with you, I should say that I've grown accustomed to them. They're sort of cute in a goofy donkey way.

Cleaning chronicles - Part 3

2011-02-18T10:10:00.000-08:00

I had a very bad dream last night. In it I was being chased around my house....

...by my vile toilet brush. It eventually rested on top of my bookcase, flicking putrid toilet water at me when I walked by.
I hate housework.

Cleaning chronicles - Part 2

2011-02-17T11:49:00.000-08:00

I got all the stuff I needed to clean & took the plunge. After 3 cups of coffee & music on the ipod sending mercy my way, I began the tedious job of dusting, shaking out rugs, scrubbing bathrooms, vacuuming, tackling cob webs and mopping the floors. I slaved away from 9:30 until 4:30. Oh my aching back.
Kicks curiously watched from afar....

...then wisely hid behind the couch.

The cats never appeared. (Good instincts.)

But managed to kill and eat a poor bird on the rug that I just beat clean.

Will you look at those paws? He can stay outside like the rest of the farm dogs that live around here. It's time for him to man up. My floors are so clean.

Oh jeez. Come in.

I can see that this job is never done. I'm doomed.

My belated Valentines for Safety Man

2011-02-16T18:14:00.000-08:00

I love you.

The cleaning chronicles - Part 1

2011-02-11T08:00:00.000-08:00

I borrowed 2 mop thingys from my mom.

(See - Mops don't clean, people do.)

Mops don't clean, people do.

2011-02-10T10:00:00.000-08:00

The news hit me hard. She didn't mince her words; now I'm doomed.

For the last two decades I have been fortunate to have a cleaning lady. As I worked a little out of the house and contributed to our household financially, I felt justified to indulge myself and hire others to do my dirty work. It worked out so beautifully, too. I would notice a ring (scum) in the tub, a spot (mud tracks) on the floor or a pile of dust bunnies under the couch (and table and chairs), and say to myself, " No worries, Bev will be here soon to take care of that." And for all these many years nice women have shown up every week or so to mop, dust, vacuum and make our home livable again. I believe it's a job for professionals so that's how we rolled... until recently.

Last spring I quit work which brought on an unexpected fear. I wondered if Safety Man would connect my free time, our shrinking budget and Bev. Could I expect my 20 year fix to household help to continue without question? After all, while I was still bringing home the dough, I'd announce to my husband and children before I left in the morning, "Remember, wonderful Bev will be here today! Pick your dirty clothes up off the floor! She has to vacuum, you know!!" , then I'd happily proceed with my day knowing that I'd come home to a sparkling kitchen, clean bathrooms that smelled fresh and towels neatly hung on their hooks. The dust would be all gone, replaced with a comfort in my heart knowing that my house was livable again and ready for another week of our abuse. But now I instinctfully knew that I had to be on the down low with cleaning day. Not a word did I mutter about carelessly thrown clothes or cluttered counters. I would post Bev's check ,discreetly tucked in an envelope, onto our kitchens bulletin board simply addressed - "B" and hoped no one noticed how clean the house was when they came home.

It was all going as planned until Bev called. She bluntly explained that she's not cleaning houses anymore. She just blurted it out casually and callously, "Time to do other things." was her excuse. What?! I hung up with my head spinning, feeling panicked, my palms starting to sweat and knees feeling weak.. What to do? What to do? I have to think fast. Can I hire someone else quick? Maybe no one will notice if another smiling face shows up with a mop and bucket in hand. I scrambled for answers when the phone rang again. It was Safety Man. I impulsively(stupidly) I cried out the horrible news hoping, praying, wishing so badly that he'd suggest I start the process we have been through several times before. Maybe he'd say it was time to find another cleaning lady. Crushingly, he explained to me cheerfully that this was good news. Now would be a super time to save some money and "we" could certainly clean the house ourselves. What a blow. I hung up defeated, depleted and depressed.

I haven't cleaned a toilet in decades. I don't own a mop. I hate my heavy, ugly vacuum. Truthfully, I don't know how to clean and I don't want to learn. I'm an old dog. I don't do new tricks. Which leads me to this insightful quote.

"You all know that even when women have full rights, they still remain fatally downtrodden because all housework is left to them. In most cases housework is the most unproductive, the most barbarous and the most arduous work a woman can do. It is exceptionally petty and does not include anything that would in any way promote the development of the woman." ~ Vladimir Ilyich Lenin

~ Even deplorable despots are right sometimes.
Help!

Succulant and crispy pork

2011-01-10T10:46:00.000-08:00

This is my secret weapon recipe. It's easy, delicious and can be multiplied easily for a large crowd.

5 lbs boneless pork shoulder - cut in 5 inch chunks
1-2 Tbs kosher salt
4 Tbs canola oil
Several cups beef stock
1 cinnamon stick
1 Tbs chili powder (ancho or regular)
2 tsp cayenne pepper
2 bay leaves
a pinch of cumin
3 smashed cloves of garlic
Serves 6

Rub pieces of pork with salt. ( Use 1 Tbs if your stock has plenty of salt ) refrigerate 1-3 days.
Heat oil in roasting pan on stove top (high to md high) and sear all sides of pork pieces well. Do this in several batches so not to crowd.
Put well browned pork on paper towels to blot off oil.
Pour 1 cup of stock in pan and scrap up browned bits of pork. Remove from heat. Preheat oven at 350.
Add pork chunks to the pan and add enough stock to cover pork 2/3rds of the way then add remaining ingredients - chili powders, cayenne, cumin, cinnamon stick & garlic.

Braise in oven 3 1/2 hours uncovered - turning a few times until much of the liquid is gone and pork can be easily pulled apart. After the pork is pulled apart put back in oven until the pork is crispy and caramelized, maybe 30 min. (If the liquid evaporates before the pork is ready to be pulled apart or needs more time to get crispy just add more liquid - a cup at a time.) The liquid should be mostly gone by the time the pork is done.

Serve crispy pork pieces on fresh soft rolls for a pulled pork sandwich or on soft tortillas for carnitas. I serve with avocado, sour cream (with chipotle peppers) and tomatoes. You can also use this for taco filling and add tangy cojito cheese. This dish is very rich so I like to have a light and tangy citrus salad with it.

Try it. You'll like it.

There's a new sheriff in town

2011-01-08T19:11:00.000-08:00

His name is Oliver. Max isn't used to being second in command but being the good guy that he is, he complied without argument. Mary is just happy to be in the posse sporting a very cute pigtail look and little Harvey is a doing a good job bringing up the rear. They're a good team and I feel safer with them on my side.

The next generation at our house to decorate Christmas cookies

2011-01-01T19:19:00.000-08:00

Oliver leads the way. You never know when you may need to defend your territory.

Max explained to the posse about the dangers of touching the electric fence. The new safety man? You decide.

Everyone loves a little cookie with their icing!

The Little Drummer Boy - Bob Seger

2010-12-15T18:34:00.000-08:00

I don't know why I cry every time I hear this song, but I do.

Where did my little darlins go?

2010-11-07T06:00:00.000-08:00

What has happened to my children? Where have they gone?

Where are the babes that would hug and kiss me before they left for school? ...

......and let me dress them?

They went to teenagerdom.

Have you heard of that? It's scary.

Check up on me once in a while. Will ya?

Marc Broussard - Home

2010-11-05T14:02:00.000-07:00

Our drive to school today

2010-11-04T10:31:00.000-07:00

7:19 AM - We hop in the car. Joe is next to me in the passenger seat, Lily is strapped in the back.
The car doors shut and we begin the 8 minute drive to the first drop, Lily's school. Here's our conversation. :
Lily: "Mom, did you know that gymnastics is my favorite sport I love gymnastics my favorite part of gymnastics is the parallel bars but I also like the balance beam did you know that I didn't used to like the beam because it was hard but now I can easily do a cartwheel on it without a problem I also didn't like the vault but now I do I definitely love gymnastics Mom I have an indoor soccer game on Saturday I can't believe how fast the indoor soocer season has come we just ended outdoor soccer I think we're playing badmitton in PE today Mrs. Hershey will only be here 2 more days then we'll have a substitute because Mrs. Hershey is going to have a baby I forget what she's going to name it I don't like badmitton oh I think I told you that already I really like my new backpack it holds so much it is so much better than the other one I was considering bye."
Lily gets out of the car. Joe and I drive across town to the high school. I reach over and pat Joe's thigh and ask him how he's doing.
Joe: "Good."
5 minutes later Joe gets out of the car and says good bye.
The end.

First Friday Music IX

2010-10-01T06:00:00.000-07:00

About being 50

2010-09-08T11:18:00.000-07:00

1. When I'm called "ma'am" by the bag boy at Safeway, I think - "That's nice he's so respectful. I bet his mom is proud of him.", not - "Who the hell is he calling ma'am?"
2. Bonnie Raitt's line, "Life gets mighty precious when there's less of it to waste.", speaks volumes.
3. Looking older is ok, because I am older.
4. Sometimes when I try to look nice and put on more make up than usual I remind myself of Bette Davis in "What ever happened to Baby Jane." (Anyone out there remember that movie?)
5. I notice that a considerable number of people singing on my ipod are dead. BTW, I would appreciate hearing about good music post 1978, if you have suggestions. (Hint: I prefer lyrics without the words "bitch' & "ho".)
6. 60 has a ring of youthfulness to it.
7. I opened an advertisement for long term care insurance and skimmed it.
8. My dog has caught up to me in dog years and I notice, with some despair, that he struggles to get on his feet.
9. Why not take advantage of the early bird special?
10. I remember my mom calling me in from play to watch the first man walk on the moon.
11. I see things in antique stores that I had as a child, specifically, I saw my old Mrs. Beasley doll recently.
12. I say it's "Hip and Happenin'" and "It's time to get down and get funky." to annoy my kids but truthfully I like those sayings.
13. I never get sick of listening to Bob Dylan.
14. I'm more sentimental.
15. I think if I'm ever going to do a real push up I better start trying now.
16. I'm drawn to articles about senior citizens doing amazing things like running their first marathon at 70.
17. I don't need anymore friends.
18. I've given up trying to look tall & thin and am focused on staying healthy so I can, God willing, be here for my grand kids.
19. My knees hurt when I get up after sitting awhile.
20. I'm going to wear brighter colors.

More snippets from GP's birthday

2010-09-03T19:56:00.000-07:00

Sweet.

Sweeter.

Ummm... not so sweet.

Sweet.

Sweeter.

Ummmmm. Fun.

First Friday Music VIII

2010-09-03T06:00:00.000-07:00

Balloon Boy at Great Grandma's Birthday

2010-09-02T12:07:00.000-07:00

Do you see this balloon?

This purple balloon?

Harvey took a very serious liking to it.

And kept a death grip on it all day.

He never let go.

He was suspicious that the donkey might want it too. Mmmm.

He even navigated the trampoline with it without a hitch.

And smiled with it. Though he was a little uncomfortable letting Max get so close.

I think he was a little nervous here too.

He was much happier being solo. Just him and his big, purple balloon.

Mom's 80th

2010-09-02T11:06:00.000-07:00

Treasures

2010-08-14T20:06:00.000-07:00

Lily & I had the pleasure of spending the day with Max, Lucy & Harvey.

This is Harvey. We had a picnic in a park near the water while pretending to be pirates & searching for treasure. Max dissed Lily saying she wasn't very good at finding treasures even after she found a whole crab body. She felt under appreciated but didn't let his opinion get her down.

How could you be angry with Max? He's angelic. (a little harsh with his assessments but still very sweet.)

But this dastardly dude was not good at all. He stole an entire loaf of our sour dough from the bench where we naively left it unguarded. He flew off with bag & all then landed on the shore and ate it in front of us. He gloated. We were mad. And hungry.

But we played on.

Until we got hungrier. After we trash mouthed that thief of a gull, we decided to go to Rocket Donuts - the kids favorite spot. Max says, "There's nothing gooder than cream in a donut." Amen to that brotha.

While there, Lucy showed us her impressive ballet moves. She's good. Real good.

Here's one more shot of sweet & oh so lovable Harvey Jack.

And one more of Lucy Lou showing us how it's done.

Treasures - All of them. (except the bird)

Another reason the northwest is a good place to live.

2010-08-09T17:59:00.000-07:00

Beyond the red chair that dangles from our tree over looking the corn field....

.....grows one of natures most delectable treats. Blackberrries.

From these juicy morsels, Lily baked her first pie. It was delicious. We devoured it all in one evening with only a few crumbs and a sweet memory left to hold on to.

It's summer time and berry season!

2010-08-06T19:48:00.000-07:00

I bet you don't see anything like this where you live.

The farmers are working long hours harvesting the precious berries you'll be putting on your ice cream tonight. If you're not putting berries on your ice cream tonight, I'm sorry for you.

The roads are busy with all sorts of farming business, including hay coming off the fields, freshly bundled and brought to the farms for winter.

First Friday Music VII

2010-08-06T08:00:00.001-07:00

The winner of the most well put insult in a song goes to....

2010-07-24T12:51:00.000-07:00

.....Bob Dylan - from "Positively 4th Street"

I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
And just for that one moment
I could be you
Yes, I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
You’d know what a drag it is
To see you"

Arizona

2010-07-23T09:34:00.000-07:00

My brother and his family are moving away from us to Arizona. I will miss them terribly, but my biggest concern is their safety.

Arizona can be a very dangerous place.

I'd be very scared if I were them.

A 12 year olds perspective on progress.

2010-07-17T15:24:00.000-07:00

Lily : " Mom, do you remember when people played video games on their computers and they would have to put in discs?....now there's Xbox's and Ipod's and stuff. A lot happens in a few years."...Then she asked me if we used outhouses when I was little.
Me : Is it September yet?

A quote from my nephew Kirby

2010-07-10T20:52:00.000-07:00

When Kirby was in Iraq in 2004 he wrote, " All I ask of people at home to realize is that whether or not you agree with the foreign policies that landed us in Iraq/Afghanistan in the first place, remain humble in the face of the sacrifices that are being made everyday. There are 19 & 20 year old men who sleep in holes, never quit and who brutally know how costly freedom from tryanny can be."
On July 5th, while on his 3rd deployment to a war zone, Kirby's vehicle was hit by an enemy bomb in Afghanistan, killing two men, critically injuring one and leaving Kirby and another soldier with serious injuries. It's with profound relief we're told that Kirby will fully recover from his wounds.
Through these brave men, I see the cost of this brutality and I am humbled by them. These soldiers have sacrificed so much for our country, a country with a leadership, I'm afraid, that seems more interested in politics than in winning this war. I wish the soldiers could all come home now.

Friday Music VI

2010-07-09T11:16:00.000-07:00

Friday Music V

2010-07-02T08:00:00.000-07:00

My favorite part of this video is Leon Russell in his big, blue top hat playing guitar in the background.

Spellbinding mysteries of my linen closet.

2010-07-01T08:48:00.000-07:00

My linen closet is always mess. This unfortunate fact makes changing sheets in our house frustrating. A real drudgery, it is. The over stuffed, unorganized closet is exasperated by having 3 different mattress sizes on our beds. It's difficult to find sheets that:
1. Fit
2. Match
3. Belong to the bed you're changing.
This means that when the kids and I change our beds the sheets:
1. Don't fit
2. Don't match
3. Belong to someone else.

Today, I worked up the nerve to finally tackle this Nemesis of a closet. My initial reaction when I pulled everything out onto the floor was to go for a long walk but, alas, I resisted the impulse to run and continued on my quest for a linen closet I'm not quivering in fear to open. I had one quick observation and discovered two mysteries in this endeavor.
The first thing I noticed is that I have a lot of sheets. Sheets dating back to 1987, for heavens sake. These included a frilly, pink & white stripped Laura Ashley set that I bought for Lily when she was in preschool and a dark, green & blue plaid flannel set I bought for Safety Man before we were married. I realize now that I must have a hard time letting go of old sheets. Which begs this question. What do you do with old sheets? You don't give them to second hand stores, do you? Throwing them away seems wasteful. I don't know what to do with them - hence my closet problem, I guess.
After noticing my proclivity to hold onto old sheets, I observed my first curiosity. I have a lot of top sheets and not so many bottom sheets. ??? How do you lose a bottom sheet? I understand missing socks. They're easy to lose - behind the couch, under the couch, in the couch. They can be tucked in an old pair of shoes, under a seat in the car or in a grimy old gym bag. Let's face it. I haven't worn a pair of socks that match since 1999. But I digress. A missing sheet is much more baffling. How the hell do you lose a bottom sheet? Unfortunately, this mystery is yet to be solved.
I did, however, figure out the last mystery. The missing pillow cases - case.( hee hee) I piled together many sets of sheets but couldn't find their pillow cases. Jeez. Losing bottom sheets & pillow cases? Too weird. So, I put on my mom detective hat and started to ask some questions. Being keen to my environment I knew where to start my inquiry. I asked Joe if he knew where some of these pillow cases might be. Not surprisingly he was dismissive of my question answering a quick and terse, "No." I, however, persevered. "Joe, I remember you had several pillows on your bed a while ago. I don't see them anymore. Are you certain you don't know where a pillow case might be hiding? It was like a little light lit up behind his devious 14 year old eyes. He then crawled into the storage area behind his closet and pulled out this: A plethora of pillows.

Apparently, he was hoarding pillows. (From his sister, I suspect.)
My journey into the great linen closet abyss was moderately successful. I came to terms with my messy closet (my old sheets are stacked neatly together waiting for the final resolution - where do they go?) It's all very neat and in my quest, I found enough pillows to rest every weary head that is reading this blog. Sadly, I never expect to find the various missing bottom sheets. This is bound to be one of my life's baffling mysteries but for now, I am content.

Friday Music IV

2010-06-25T08:00:00.000-07:00

Friday Music III

2010-06-18T08:00:00.001-07:00

Lucy Lou, I like your do.

2010-06-17T06:00:00.000-07:00

This is Lucy Jerilou. From time to time I shamelessly pilfer pictures from other blogs. This one of darling Lucy just posted on my nephew's blog - The Ants Go Marching. I had to share. ( I think she looks like a Johnson girl.)
Lucy is smashed between her two brothers, Max & Harvey. Max is 4, Lucy will be 3 next month and Harvey is 1. Luckily, this girl doesn't take any guff. She's tough. A real spit fire, she is. She's also as sweet as honey with a smile that will melt your cold, cold heart. But this you can see for yourself.

Let the count down begin.

2010-06-16T06:00:00.000-07:00

School's out. I've counted 77 days until it begins again on September 1st. For a summer challenge I'm determined to accomplish two things. #1. Teach my children to pick up after themselves and #2. Don't kill them. I know. I know. You think I'm too ambitious. But that's me. I set the bar high and that's why I'm living large in Lynden today. I promise to keep you up to date on my progress. Wish me well, will ya?

Santa Barbara: Living the Good Life

2010-06-14T16:50:00.000-07:00

Sharon invited our high school gang to her vacation home in Santa Barbara while her husband and two sons bike across the US from CA to CT for charity. You can read about the ride ( I think they're about half way) or donate to the causes here: http://www.buddyupbikeride.net/ So, while the men are away (biking 100 miles a day for 3000 miles working their little thighs into monster legs, raising money for these worthy charities), the women will play and happily, play we did. We soaked in the magnificant views of the Pacific Ocean and surrounding endless hills above Montecito while catching up on our varied lives. The house was so spectacular that it earned a place on the cover of a book called - The Most Beautiful Coastal Homes. (or something like that.) We swam in the infinity pool that overlooked the ocean and below had a fruitful avocado orchard. We walked along the beach and into the very cool & hip college town of Santa Barbara. (I think we blended.)We shopped and wine tasted in the expansive horse ranch territory of Los Olivos that lies in the hills above. And as always, we ate well, drank very good wine and talked endlessly about our past, present and future. Truly, everything about the weekend was amazing, especially being with these friends.

Friday Music II

2010-06-11T08:00:00.001-07:00

The last day of school - Scary!

2010-06-09T18:08:00.000-07:00

In honor of the kids last day of school on Tuesday, I've posted Alice Coopers iconic song. It was blasted on Northgate High Schools intercom system on the last day of school each year I was there....for 4 years. As far as I know the tradition lives on. Let's hope not. That would be very scary.

Kevin

2010-06-07T09:20:00.000-07:00

Kevin is my friend Mo's son. He's one of my favorite people.
Kevin has all of the qualities I admire in a person. He's honest (An Eagle Scout no less), sincere, kind, funny, hard working and handsome.

Here he is with his brother, Andrew and dad, Rich. Last Saturday Kevin played soccer in the Special Olympics at Ft Lewis. The kids and I got to share in all of the excitement. It was a gorgeous day with Mt Rainer shining in the distance and most importantly to us competetive types, his team won 5-4 in over time. It was all good.

Take a load off and listen to this.

2010-06-04T17:59:00.000-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nJXc0NRCmRQ

My Dad

2010-05-31T07:13:00.000-07:00

My dad was born on December 7, 1928 in Seattle at Swedish hospital.( 78 years later, his great grand son, Max would be born at the same hospital.) My dad was the youngest of 7 kids. His mom died when he was only 18 months old while pregnant with her 8th child. After his mothers death, he lived with his aunts, Hilda & Freida. They were his father's sisters, who immigrated to Seattle from Sweden when they were young. Neither one married and both cleaned houses for a living. They took good care of my dad and he loved them. He told me they would bake him bread in the mornings in their beautiful craftsman style home in the Green Lake area of Seattle. When it came out of the oven, soft and hot they'd spread it with peanut butter and he'd be in heaven.
My dad was the only child in his family who went to college. He worked on the trucking docks to pay his way through USC where he joined the Sigma Phi Epsilon fraternity and met life long friends many of whom were older, having served in WWII before going to college. At USC he also became a life long Trojan fan. While in southern California, he met my mom. They shared 44 years of marriage, 4 kids and 11 grand kids, before his death.

My dad was a patient man and loving father. He devoted his life to his family. He worked hard, never missing a day of work. He eventually became a vice president for P.I.E., a trucking company he worked for for over 30 years before he started the business my brother and I still have today. He enjoyed life. I remember him fixing us breakfast on the weekends before the various sporting events. There was hockey practise, swim meets and boating that filled our childhood. After many years of camping, my dad built a houseboat that he and my brothers assembled on Trinity Lake. These summers at Trinity were the back drop for some of my happiest memories. Memories that are shared by his children and grandchildren today.

After retiring at 65, my mom and dad built their dream home over looking the Pacific Ocean in Lincoln City, OR. There he joined the golf club and had the worst handicap of any other member. I don't think he cared about that. He was loving his life. He was happily married to the woman he met when he was young. He had 4 children whom he put through college and turned out pretty well, if I say so myself. He had 11 grand kids that he adored, the youngest being my son Joe. He was living the life he worked so hard to secure. I remember watching my mom and dad hold hands while walking on the beach in front of their house. I remember sitting at their table on Thanksgiving with the ocean in the back ground and all of his kids and their families gathered together. I remember all of us laughing so hard because of something my nephew, Tom was saying. I remember my dad laughing so hard that tears came to his eyes. This would be the last time we were all one. My dad died in November the next year, less than 2 years after he retired. He was too young . When he died I had the feeling of being vulnerable. I had always felt the security in knowing that my dad was always there for me. I depended on his advice that I always trusted and his acceptance that was always there. He was a good man. A very good man. Having him as my father was one of my greatest blessing and I miss him terribly.

Memorial Day, almost

2010-05-29T07:00:00.000-07:00

I pilfered this picture from the Pioneer Woman's blog. I love this picture so much because:

1. This is a hug that will be remembered for all of eternity by this family.

2. I love it that the mom (not pictured) is there. I see the mom through her daughters carefully done hair and beautifully matched red skirts and white sweaters. I can picture her fussing with them and primping so they look their very best to welcome home dad. ( Love the skirt!)

3. I love it that the dad is nestled in his daughters shoulders, soaking in all the love.

4. I love the red, white & blue in the whole shot that signifies the country this family sacrificed so much to protect.

I love this picture.

Wine Tasting and Limos, Again.

2010-05-26T07:00:00.000-07:00

My sister is good to me in many ways. She even shares her friends. They are wonderfully fun, smart and welcoming.

During a charity auction, her friend Carollyn bid on a limo/wine tasting tour and won! Correction, we won. To join her on this wine tasting journey through northern Washington & Canada, she graciously invited the women from her knitting group and me. Bless her heart.
Not surprisingly, we got sillier as the day progressed. Eventually, some of us digressed by hanging out the sun roof of the limo waving at cars as they passed. I didn't post these shots because I wanted to leave a better impression of us. Don't we look well behaved? Just goes to show ya.....looks can be deceiving.

Thank you, Carollyn and all of you women, for a very fun day. I had a blast.

Twelve

2010-05-25T07:00:00.000-07:00

Lily is 12.
She invited 10 friends to our house to celebrate the big occasion. As she opened her gifts I quickly saw a theme. They all gave her a bucket load of candy...
...and Aeropostle T Shirts.
She was very happy.

They roasted giant marshmallows and ate S'mores.

It got very sticky.

Enormous Marshmallows! For Real!!

2010-05-21T11:36:00.000-07:00

Look what I found!

Can you believe it?!

Small, medium & then there's enormous.

Boo Boo Buddies - What they are and how they work.

2010-05-21T11:29:00.000-07:00

Lily makes Boo Boo Buddies & sells them at local craft fairs. Aren't they adorable?
This is Max with a stubbed toe. See how sad he is?

Now look! He's happy. That's how a Boo Boo Buddy works. It's magical.

Adorable, sweet as candy, Lucy loves the Boo Boo Buddy, too.

As does Harvey. Just look at this kid, will ya? Hold my heart. I can't stand it. I am so IN LOVE with him. Have you ever seen anything more scrumptious in your whole entire life?

Let me know if you'd like a Boo Boo Buddy for the precious little ones in your life. It'll make them smile, too.

Lily has the whole summer to sew!

Hay Bales vs. Marshmallows - You Decide

2010-05-19T07:00:00.000-07:00

I've been told that these puffy looking white things scattered throughout the farm land are hay bales. But I think they're marshmallows.

Marshmallows waiting to be roasted in an open fire pit in my yard and squished between 2 ginormous* sized Graham Crackers and an equal sized Hershey Bar.

* In 2007 ginormous was added to Websters dictionary.

Bald Eagles everywhere we look

2010-05-18T07:00:00.000-07:00

There were about a dozen Bald Eagles (Would that be a convocation of eagles?) sitting in and flying over the field at the end of our drive. As a tractor was mowing the field grass these predators were getting their fill of mice and things.

We see them everyday. They're everywhere.

Whoa! Almost got clipped. Note to self - Stay off the county highway while taking pictures of the wildlife.

P90X and my friend, Melissa

2010-05-12T13:00:00.000-07:00

If you're not familiar with P90X, feel free to Google it. I'm not adding the link here because I curse it.

My "dear" friend Melissa (of Delicious Dishes fame), who is very fit in spite of her time in the kitchen, volunteered to send me her P90X program after I innocently asked her about it. She mentioned that it was a little hard but suggested I try the arduous program and blog about my experience. Okay, Melissa, here I go:
First, I read the multiple booklets of instructions about how this muscle confusing fitness plan is supposed to get you in the best shape of your life. This took a weekend. The initial steps are simple enough. Weigh yourself, it says. Painfully, I complied. Measure yourself (This includes the thighs, ladies.). Humiliatingly, I checked this requirement off the list. Measure your body fat, it says. This is very depressing, but check. TAKE PICTURES OF YOURSELF in shorts and sports bra in various poses, it says. Sorry. I don't think so. Enough of this foolishness, I'm ready to begin. I'm ready to be a lean, mean, fit, 49 year old, buffed machine. (See picture above.)

After I faithfully follow most of the prerequisites and mentally prepare myself to be a committed student of this serious fitness regime, I put on the first of 12 Cd's. Confidently, I complete the 5 minute warm up. OK. All is good. I'm very pleased with myself. Then the real exercise regiment begins. I notice that my arms are a little tired from the jumping jacks but I'm not deterred. We start with push ups....."Let's do 20 - 30 push ups", the fitness guru says .... I get on my hands and knees and manage to struggle through 3 push ups from the kneeling position (AKA girl push ups) and quickly flop to the floor. I rest my cheek on the rug to see the fitness fanatics cheerfully count 21, 22, 23.... I peel myself off the rug and plop my big fat tush on the couch. For the next 30 minutes I torture myself by watching the health freaks "work their arms and backs" - "Let's do 25 pull ups with our fingers facing forward. (Rest. 1 min.) Now let's do 30 push ups with our ankles crossed - very good. (Rest 1 min.) Okay, now let's do 30 more pull ups but this time with our fingers facing towards us...." Amazed and defeated, I turn off the TV before these "people" begin doing push ups on their pinkies.
So, here you have it, Melissa. The blog post on my P90X experience. Short, sweet and very humbling. Watch for a package in the mail, my friend. P90X is on it's way back to you. Oh yeah, thanks for sharing.

What puts the safety in Safety Man?

2010-05-11T08:00:00.000-07:00

Before

After
The kids often complain about the condition of our pencils so I got obsessive and gathered all I could find, bought a new sharpener and went at it. I was so proud of my deed that I proudly displayed them tips up. The next day I noticed that they were all turned upside down. Immediately, I knew who was responsible. -" Honey", I asked, "Did you turn the pencils in the office?" "Yes", he answered, "as a general rule all pointy things should be facing down. Someone could poke their eyes out." That's what puts the Safety in my man.

Motherhood

2010-05-09T08:00:00.000-07:00

Two emotions come to my mind when I think about motherhood. The first is love, of course, which I felt instantly. The second emotion took me awhile to recognize.

I had a difficult time conceiving and suffered through a miscarriage the first few years of my marriage. During this time I was very focused on getting pregnant and talked myself into believing that when I became pregnant my worries would be over. Of course this was foolish thinking. After I heard the glorious news of my pregnancy, my mind quickly raced to the concern of keeping the baby safe in my womb. This was understandable, I told myself, with my history. As the first 3 months passed and the baby grew, I began to worry about delivering a healthy baby. Again, a normal concern. After my son was born healthy(9 lbs 9 oz - thank you very much) , I felt relief at long last. Then I realized that I was a little worried about getting through the first 3 months of infancy and then I began focusing on the first year of development - was he crawling, walking, saying his first words on schedule? Yes, yes, yes. All is good. Then the little scoundrel started climbing trees. Good Lord. When will this worry end? It is around this time that I remembered my grandmother.

When she was 93, my grandmother was slowly slipping away from us. She stayed in her bed for the last year of her life while my parents cared for her in their home with the help of hospice. One day the hospice counselor came to the house. She saw that my grandmother was very weak and suffering through her final days but was tenaciously clinging to life, determined not to let go. Hospice was here to help guide her peacefully through these final steps. This kind woman softly asked my grandma if she was afraid to let go and if there was anything she needed to do before she met God. My grandmother answered meekly but matter-of-factly, like the answer should be obvious. "Who'll take care of Patsy?" Patsy, her only child, my mom, who had been married to my dad for decades and had 4 children who loved her. She was, to my grandmother, her responsibility. My grandmother, as she lay dying, was worried about her daughter.

That's when it hit me. The magnificent love we have for our children carries with it a heavy load of worry. It never ends. Now my son is a teenager and talks about driving and other ridiculous things. (With this eventuality looming over me, my worry knows no bounds.) I also see the love and worry on my sisters face as she talks about her son who is fighting a war in Afghanistan. Each of us has our own list of worries but in the end it all comes down to the universal maternal love we have for our children. It's a tough job, motherhood, but we are so blessed to have it. The greatest job.

1 day until Mothers Day

2010-05-08T08:00:00.001-07:00

"No one ever died from sleeping in an unmade bed. I have known mothers who remake the bed after their children do it because there is wrinkle in the spread or the blanket is on crooked. This is sick."
Erma Bombeck

2 Days until Mothers Day

2010-05-07T08:00:00.000-07:00

These quotes are by Fran Liebowitz. The first quote of hers that I remember admiring is - "I think I have to say that my favorite animal is steak." Now, that's funny. But it doesn't have anything to do with Mother's Day so I'm not including it.

"I never met anyone who didn't have a very smart child. What happens to these children, you wonder, when they reach adulthood?"

" If you are truly serious about preparing your child for the future, don't teach him to subtract teach him to deduct."

"Children are the most desirable opponents at Scrabble as they are both easy to beat and fun to cheat."

"Even when freshly washed and relieved of all obvious confections children tend to be sticky."

" Do not, on a rainy day, ask your child what he feels like doing, because I assure you what he feels like doing, you won't feel like watching."

"Your responsibility as a parent is not as great as you might imagine. You need not supply the world with the next conqueror of disease or motion-picture star. If your child simply grows up to be someone who does not use the word "collectible" as a noun, you can consider yourself an unqualified success."

3 days until Mothers Day

2010-05-06T08:00:00.000-07:00

"You don't really understand human nature unless you know why a child on a merry-go-round will wave at his parents every time around - and why his parents will always wave back.' - William D. Tammeus"

4 Days until Mothers Day

2010-05-05T10:41:00.000-07:00

"Women's Liberation is just a lot of foolishness. It's the men who are discriminated against. They can't bear children. And no one's likely to do anything about that. ~Golda Meir"

Carmel-ization (or Life Lesson #1)

2010-05-05T08:48:00.000-07:00

Warning: If you share my impatience with preachy diatribes about self improvement, you may want to skip this post. If you have a more open mind, then read on.....
10 years ago, Safety Man and I made a rookie parental mistake by taking our youngin's on a weekend trip to Carmel. Being relatively new parents, we ignored the fact that Carmel is not child friendly. As you probably know, the demographic of this affluent, ocean front town consists largely of retired, wealthy people who shop, play golf and eat well. We wanted to get away from the sweltering summer heat of inland California and feel the crisp ocean air on our naive faces and enjoy some family time. Fair enough.

The story begins as dinner time beckons in quaint downtown Carmel. It's 5:00 and our 1 year old and 3 year old kids are hungry. Very hungry. And cranky. Already, I'm a little nervous when we anxiously search the town for a kid friendly restaurant. As we walk several blocks, passing art galleries, expensive clothing stores, fancy pastry shops and more art galleries, we search in vain for a spot to feed our family without white table clothes. Eventually, we settle on the least white tableclothy place we can find. Though it's a small, intimate room with candles on every table, the staff looks forgiving and friendly and best of all it conveniently has a little courtyard in front so we can let the little ones run around if necessary. (See how considerate we are trying to be?) As we enter, I scout the room for a reaction from the other patrons, eventually making eye contact with a very well dressed, proper looking woman sitting across the room with a distinguished looking gentleman. She doesn't look happy as we ask for high chairs and booster seats. I nudge Safety Man and nod my head towards the lady that is my nemesis for the evening. He's oblivious to the danger.

Dinner progresses as you might expect. The kids are messy and loud. Being very sensitive to the white table cloth scene, I ask Safety Man to take the children outside when necessary, trying very hard to keep the atmosphere peaceful. In spite of our Herculean efforts not to make a fuss, I keep making eye contact with this lady across the room. She won't stop starring at us."Come on, Lady!" I say to myself, "Can't you see we're doing our best?!" I'm not having fun.

I urge Safety Man to plow through the meal as fast as possible, risking indigestion and asphyxiation. After the dishes are cleared and I'm wiping down the table and picking food scraps off the floor for the upteenth time, it happened. The well done woman from across the room slowly approaches. She stands there, looming in front of me, looking me straight in the eye and just as I'm about to shout out some defensive remark she exclaims - " I want you to know that you have the cutest kids." !!!!
So, that's my "light bulb" moment. I learned a few simple but valuable lessons that evening.
1. I can't read minds.
2. It's pointless, and sometimes self destructive and hurtful to innocent people, to project my fears and insecurities on others and...
3. Never take toddlers on a weekend excursion to Carmel.
Now, here's my obligatory preachy advice - If you're pron to Carmel-ization, like I am, watch it. It's not good for you or others around you. Just ask Safety Man.

The cherry blossoms are falling....

2010-04-27T08:42:00.000-07:00

....like snow. Pink blossom snow.

My very own drummer boy

2010-04-26T09:36:00.000-07:00

This is Joe during his annual drum day performance. He was great.

That's my brother Jeff, with his hands in the air. He thought Joe was great, too. Their finale was Purple Haze. It got a standing ovation and people lit their lighters for an encore. Well....they should have. It was that good.

Joe's a little camera shy

2010-04-24T20:09:00.000-07:00

Oh, come on Joe....Smile for your mom, will ya?!
Eli smiles for me.

Just one smirk, even.

Okay. Good enough. A partial smile will do.

Hey! How'd this shot get here? Safety man is taking a little ride surveying the grounds.
(Note the helmet.)

Joe is teaching Eli bad camera habits.

But not Kicks! I love this dog. He knows how to pose for the camera.

Spring soccer in the northwest

2010-04-19T10:16:00.000-07:00

These are the moms that weather the storm with smiles and good cheer while they freeze their patooties (real word, I promise.) off, faithfully watching their darling daughters play spring soccer.

You can't see them in this picture but there are plenty of goosebumps on those soccer legs.

This is the look of anxious anticipation. They're waiting patiently for the coach to call them back into the game. ("Pick me. Pick me. Pleeeeease, pick me. I'm freeeeeezing sitting here on the bench.")

Lily's team is playing in an older division this season. She looks a little small next to her opponent but I don't think she notices.

Doesn't the mom in the background look like she's having a blast?!

My latent poetic tendencies awaken

2010-04-15T11:13:00.000-07:00

These are the trees that line our drive

Blossoms burst from their buds when spring arrives
Their beauty soothes the soul with simple grace
until a strong wind blows them all over the place

A man and his boy

2010-04-12T19:33:00.000-07:00

(Gina, I hope you don't mind me pilfering this dynamite picture from you. I just had to share it with everyone I know.)
This is my nephew, Kirby, who left for Afghanistan in November, a couple weeks before his son, Dashel was born. His wife, Gina took this shot of them meeting for the first time, just last week, while Kirby was home on leave.
I can't get over the obvious recognition in Dashels eyes, knowing that he's looking into the eyes of his dad. This is a snap shot of happiness - sheer joy. It's so beautiful, I had to share.

Easter at our house

2010-04-06T11:41:00.000-07:00

Easter was wonderful. Once again, I was blessed to have lots of family and friends to our house to celebrate this holy day. Since there were about 40 of us, I was busy and therefore didn't take pictures. (That's my excuse, anyway.) This is unfortunate because Max, Lucy & Harvey looked especially great in their Easter attire.(As we all did, I should add.) I did have the foresight, however, to send Lily to the barn to take some shots of Safety Man, Joe and our dear friend Kevin doing their Jiu Jitsu thing. I know these aren't your typical Easter pictures but this is what I have to show for our Sunday gathering.

Kevin is my friend, Mo's son. They moved to Bellevue a few months ago from the sunny southern California suburbs. I love to have such a good friend so close and am especially happy that she and her family joined the crowd. Kevin is a fan of grappling, like JT and Joe.

Here is Kevin and Joe. I'm not sure what's happening in this picture but I think they're having fun. ????? From my novice perspective, it looks like Kevin has Joe in an arm bar and Joe is about to tap out. But, I don't really know.

Most of you will have pictures of your sweet little ones in their Sunday best carrying their Easter baskets filled with beautifully colored eggs and maybe a spring flower or two. Or maybe a picture of an elaborate table carefully set with your finest china and a big beautiful ham in the background, surrounded my your family and friends in their new pastel dresses and perhaps a bow or two somewhere......Not me. Boys wrestling in our barn while gritting their teeth and grimacing from tapping out of a choke hold are ..... normal for me now. Happy Easter one and all.

To Rosemary, Sharon, Chris, Margie, Karen & Melissa

2010-04-05T19:18:00.000-07:00

Which way next year ?... mmmm?
Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think we have been trekking to the wine country for our annual weekend of indulgence for almost 10 years- could that be? Well, regardless of the years, the anticipation and chatter that precedes our trip is almost as fun as the trip itself....but not quite!....

Though most of us are separated by many miles and the babies that brought us together as a Mom's group are now teenagers, we remain friends. Friends that know how to have a good ass time.

Rosemary, Margie, me, Sharon & Karen, poolside. Oh yeah!

Here we are at our usual first stop - Gundlach Bundschu. Chris, Rosemary, Melissa, Sharon, Karen & Margie sampling our first tasty tid bits, drinking our first sips of wine for the weekend and catching up on our varied lives. Man, I love this place. It's the perfect opening ceremony to our Olympic sized fun weekend.

Dig the bird with the red wings... love the sign....

.....and the pristine vineyards and green, green hillsides of one of the most beautiful places on Earth.

Rosemary, Margie w/her big floppy hat (ain't it adorable?), Karen, me & Sharon. We're @ our usual last stop on Sunday, before we head back to reality- The Girl & the Fig - Sonoma. Boy, we have this trip fine tuned, don't we? This weekend was perfect - The house, the limo, the wineries, the FOOD, the weather and the company. Perfect.

Was this taken outside of B.R Cohn? I think so. Beyond the brilliant purple iris's, see the gnarly old vines. Some mighty fine grapes come off those masterpieces of a plant. Hallelujah.

Aren't they gorgeous?! Those beautiful oak wine barrels are stunning!...and they smell so good, too. Melissa - (I had to add the Pebbles shot.)
Thank you, AGAIN, for the glorious food. The planning, time, and talent that you graciously give to all of us is a generous gift indeed. You're a gem, as are all of you friends. - precious gems - like diamonds.

Aaaaahhhhhhh. This shot says it best. Until next spring...

To my high school friends - part 2

2010-04-01T10:29:00.000-07:00

Seven* of us gathered at Sharon's beautiful Arizona home to celebrate our 50th birthdays in unison. We've known one another for over 35 years and in the case of Mary and me, who met in Mrs. Bodenshatz's kindergarten class, 45 years. That's a hell of a long time when you're as young-like as we are.
Through these years we have shared our joys and celebrations, our fears and disappointments, our loses and tragedies. We've shared the happiness of our graduations, weddings and babies and suffered through the failures, sicknesses and the funerals. We have shared our lives. We live in Greenwich, CT, Santa Cruz, CA and Homer, AK. We're teachers, nurses and dog mushers. We have traveled down different paths and if we met today we may not give each other much more than a nod. We've been mad at each other, disappointed and bewildered by each other but like a family, we plow through these times and continue to love one another. Thankfully, we all take the time and make the effort to gather and replenish this incredibly durable and cherished shared history. And for this, I am very thankful.

Hey! He wasn't invited.

Mary, me, Carol, Sharon, Dierdre and Mo. - Here we all are. *Well, almost all of us. Sadly, Chris bought her airline tickets for the wrong weekend and realized this terrible mistake the day before our gathering. Since Chris has 3 young kids including 2 year old twins, we can understand her confusion but we sorely missed her. Lorraine is missing from this picture because she's the photographer. Below, Mary is taking the shot. (We need a tri pod.)

Lorraine, me, Carol, Sharon, Dierdre and Mo.

To my highschool pals

2010-03-05T17:50:00.000-08:00

Since I'll be 50 this year, I prudently went to see my doctor for the typical semi centennial exam. When he noted that I'll be hitting the half century mark in September, I replied that this was better than the alternative to which he promptly asked, "Are you sure?" One point for the doc.

Anyway, this post is dedicated to the women I'll be seeing soon in AZ . We will collectively celebrate our big 5-0 and bravely launch over this daunting hurdle together. Here's to Cruisin' Carol, Mighty Mary, Do it Dierdre, Movin' Mo, Kissin' Chris, Shootin' Sharon, Lovely Lorraine and me, Jivin' Janis.

This song is for you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=melUPYJc11U