It's So Quiet

It's pretty quiet here now. The floors are clean. The bathroom is neat and tidy. The cat is lying calmly on her special bed, without any competition for the space. The pigeons are relaxing near the hot tub in between baths and drinks. Sigh.

You see, last week, it was all quite different! We had the extra beds set up. The cool Space Robot plates were used for every meal. We had the Ninja Turtle bowls out for breakfast cereal, and again for ice cream after dinner. My Little Pony World was spread across the living room along the front of the couch, and Lego Land took up all the bare carpet space along the other wall.

It was definitely NOT quiet outside in the pool! There was barely a moment for pigeon Happy Hour, because that was the best time of day to don your goggles and see how far you could leap into the pool and get a rating from Grandpa CoolGuy on the angle of your turn. 90 degrees? 45 degrees? Let me try that again, and this time I'm going for 180!

It was Grandma Camp time at the Mojave Desert Resort! (aka--our house.) We got our photos in the green shirts at the Shark Reef. By wearing green shirts, you see, we are just floating heads in the big fish tank! (It's a tradition.) We stayed up late and watched movies. We did "night swimming" wherein the lights are turned on underwater, as well as the atmosphere-y little yard lights. We drove out to the desert to look at the night sky and name constellations. We had a blast, in other words.

Our daughter had a library conference to attend here, so she drove everyone down and dropped them off. Then, we had three days without her, and then three days with her. On her third day, our oldest son came down to spend the holiday weekend, and to celebrate his birthday. (His family is visiting their other grandma in another country.) We swam and ate and laughed and talked and watched funny stuff on TV.  A good time was had by all!

The swimming is always the highlight, though. One just cannot get enough swimming time when there are three excited adventurers out there, too. Every flotation device we own must be employed, or at least dragged out of the shed and put in the water. We invested in goggles with snorkel tubes a couple of years ago because they add a lot of fun to the water gun fights. Then, it was discovered how much fun swimming underwater is, and how nice it is to jump off the side without having water injected into your nose. Seriously, hours and hours of water time is the best part of Grandma Camp.

But, now it's over. Everyone went home. I'm sure they were happy to be back at their own place and with their own rooms. I've recovered now...that much fun is quite a lot of work and I'm not as young and vigorous as I once was. But, wow, it's so quiet. We haven't even gone back out to the pool yet. It would be so boring. Well, and it has been raining off and on...But seriously, it's so much fun with the grandchildren! We look forward to their visits, and I know that we all get together as much as we can. In the meantime, we have some great memories and some pretty great photos.

Sharks swim overhead at this aquarium.

 And you can pet the rays and horseshoe crabs.

Actually, you have your Grandpa pet them for you.

 

He is even COOLER, in this get-up.

 

We discovered how fun it was to be floating heads one summer when one of our party wore just the right color of green shirt. So, we went out and bought a set of green shirts for this photo opportunity each summer.

 

See, the Legos at our house were purchased about 25 years ago, at least. So, they are "classic" Legos, and therefore are pretty awesome to play with.

 

This is the sedate first night. After this calm episode, it was pretty much non-stop jumping into the pool. And lots of underwater swimming by the big brother and sister. 

  

If it floats, we use it! So much fun!!

 

  

See how much fun it is to watch what you're swimming through? 

 

  

There was a lot of leaping off the side into the water. 

 

  

Sometimes, it was more sedate...

but mostly it looked like this: 

 

Every Grandma Camp has to end, and it's a pretty glum day when they pack up and leave. We don't get to spend every minute with a face like this one. Grandpa is going through withdrawal.

Birthday, Birthday, Birthday

 (Arrgghh---I started this on July 1st, but I guess it was after midnight when it published.)

JULY 1st, 2014

Today we honor the Great Number One. Our first child was born today right, a pretty long time ago, now that I count up the years. So why is the memory of that event so vivid?? Probably because it was so momentous. We were young and probably a little dumb about all the ramifications, but we were excited to entering the world of parenthood. It seemed like the right thing to do just then. It was, turns out!

He was a great first effort, too. He's always been a calm and cheerful person. He was a joy to raise. He's probably the exact person you'd want for the oldest kid in your family. He was helpful and kind and just teased his sisters a little bit...

Now he's a really fine adult and a great dad and uncle. Here are a few photos from the life of a good man.

 

Wearing Daddy's boots

 

 

Playing in the yard in San Diego

 His daddy rides a Harley

 Ocean lover, swimmer, surfer

 

Soccer player

 

Hiking in the California coastal mountains

Wedding Day

  Fooling around with his Mini-Me son

 A good uncle to have around on baptism day

(with his sister and nieces and nephew)

Failure Point

For the last twenty-five years or so, CoolGuy has been involved with testing and engineering in his job. He has spent a lot of time running systems until they reach a failure point. This allows the designers to know the capabilities, or lack thereof, in a particular system. It's important to know just how much capacity is available in almost anything, so you know if you are nearing the limit. I think I found CoolGuy's limit this week.

I've noted before how he seems to find just the right thing to say---

When I was feeling particularly morose over having to give away my cute shoes collection:
"You know why you have those terrible feet, don't you?  It's because the rest of you is so awesome that God had to find some way to keep you humble."

Once when I was getting ready to go to work:
"Where do you keep your fire extinguisher?"  HUH? he went on..."Because surely you need to wear one clipped your belt or something, since you're looking so hot."

When he brought me lunch at school:
"Gosh, your co-workers are so nice to you. Usually when one person is so much better looking than the rest, it creates a little hostility."

Yeah, yeah, yeah.... 

However, despite his ability to pull off the glib remarks all these years, this week I succeeded in rendering him speechless. See, a couple of days ago, I woke up, wandered into the bathroom, and, as I attempted to sit down, I lost my balance a little, (dumb feet) and sort of half-fell onto the toilet seat. And. it. cracked.

Yes, I cracked the toilet seat.

I couldn't believe it. I mean, it's made of wood. I'm a little---ahem---heavier--than I'd like to be. But even all the times I was pregnant and weighed this much,  and maybe sat down a little harder than I intended in my state of expectancy-induced clumsiness, I have never cracked a toilet seat!!!!

 So when CoolGuy got home a little while later from his morning coffee run, I told him about it. I'm so sorry I didn't have a camera, still or video, available immediately. Video would have been awesome! The look on his face was priceless. He valiantly struggled to avoid bursting out in laughter. He had to put his finger on his lips to stifle his smile, and he coughed as a small guffaw leaked out. He turned a little red, and he started to say something a couple of times. He stepped forward, then backward, and finally just shook his head, and said, "I'm sorry. I'm going to need a few moments to process this one." And he dashed into his office, out of sight. IT WAS HILARIOUS!

So, if I were to write the engineering report for this toilet-seat episode, I'd conclude that I have definitely found what causes the failure of the Just-right-make-your-wife-feel-good Rhetoric Area of the CoolGuy brain.

 

Flashback

Lilac Trees

Purple pointed cone of itty-bitty blossoms

Crowning the trees in our yard.

I break one off and bury my nose in its scent.

Instantly, I am twelve years old,

Walking out the back gate to the cow barn in June.

These flowers mean Wyoming.

Sum, Sum, Summer Time!

I've only been out of school for two weeks, and yet, I've managed to have a lot of fun already! We cheated on the first little trip. We left before school was actually over...Our daughter's graduation from college with her doctorate degree (Nursing Practice----from Oregon Health & Science University) was on the Monday of the last week of school. We flew up on Saturday morning, after I'd spent several really long days that week getting every T crossed and i dotted, so I could return on Tuesday morning, really early, to be ready for the awards assembly and the last day of school. I realize I've already celebrated this event in a previous post, but, I feel like bragging some more.

That was just the first trip of the vacation season! On Thursday, I carefully put everything into secured spaces in my classroom, except for those last piles on my desk, which got dropped into a box and shoved into a closet, and turned in my keys. Then we left Friday morning to travel straight north to attend a lovely piano recital by our granddaughter. She is very skilled, having taken lessons for several years now. Plus, they have a marvelous piano teacher who helped them to write their own song! I'm serious--every student not only played a piece from their lesson books, but then performed a self-composed number. They were all fabulous! What a great night! This is why I live in the West--I want to be able to attend piano recitals by grandchildren.

Talented Pianist

The next morning, we assembled at the church to attend the baptism of our grandson who just turned eight years old. He was baptized by our son, his uncle, and there was a talk by the sister (above) and a talk by Grandma (me). It was a lovely event and afterward, we went over to our daughter's house and feasted in her backyard. We returned to our home the next day, after a visit with both of our children and their children. I had to get back due to a series of doctor appointments I had the following week, but --- again---it is why we live in the West. We can be close enough to go visit for a couple of days, and then go home. 

 

The Hawaiian childhood of his father's family calls for leis on all special occasions. Nice tradition!

Weren't those two kids of ours just getting baptized themselves a short time ago??

Then, my final quick trip to celebrate the beginning of summer:  I went to North County San Diego over the weekend to have dinner with a group of friends. The significant part of that trip is that I go to spend time by the ocean! Sigh....my favorite place. I enjoyed seeing my friends. We ate some so-so Mexican food. (Sorry, but I was expecting better in SoCal.) But then, the next day, I went to visit the sand and waves. It was a lovely day for it, too. It was torture to simply snap a few pics and then leave again. CoolGuy and I have a plot to get back to the ocean again, later this summer. I certainly hope we can pull it off. Someday...I'll live there again--it's a dream.

I call this picture: Happy Feet

I could have stayed there all day. The water was warmer than my beach in Port Hueneme. I needed a boogie board and a swimsuit, and I'd have been a happy girl to go along with the happy feet.

Fathers Are So Special

I've enjoyed watching the Father of this family as he has been repeatedly interrupted this afternoon from his motorcycle wrenching by phone calls from his children. Thanks kids!

I read from some commentator that Father's Day is an "awkward" holiday, celebrated inconsistently by people from 1910 until, finally in 1972, it was designated an official holiday in a bill signed by Pres. Nixon. I know that it doesn't always get the attention that Mother's Day does, but perhaps that's appropriate since a lot of fathers are somewhat "aw shucks" about being the center of attention. I also know that there are plenty of fathers that are not there in the life of their offspring, so that figures in, too.

I was a lucky one. My dad was there and was a fine dad; surely deserving of extra attention at least one day each year. He was a pretty good dad, too, considering that he had to make it up as he went along. He didn't have the example of his father who died when my dad was only eight. He lost his grandfather the next day after that, too. So, he was taken in by a kind relative and was pretty much a grown-up from then on. However, even though he had never experienced the love and attention and advice and unconditional love from a dad, he did a pretty good job of giving that to us, his children. I credit my mom with teaching him how to be a loving person. She said once to me that he was pretty "hard" when they first got married, and that she had to show him that it was okay to be softer. He was a devoted father, and we all knew how much he loved us. He was tough sometimes, but we also knew that he still loved us anyway.

 

Here he is with the first two kids,

the beginning of the six daughters and two sons.

He's wearing the "uniform" I remember him for---irrigation boots and a straw hat.

 

We're up to six of us here. Just two more to go.

Note the "farmer's tan"---duh, why do you think it's called that?

 

Our one and only overnight vacation.

We got our tall genes from our dad.

Baby number eight was on the way, that's why

 my mom is taking the photo and not in it.

 

 

He loved to raise beautiful horses.

This particular one was also extremely patient

 and long-suffering.

That is baby number eight squeezed in there on his lap. 

 

 

 

This is grandchild number one. It was pretty awesome for him to be a grandfather. The saddest thing is that he didn't get to enjoy that role very long, here on earth. We'd only delivered the first 18 while he was still living. We ended up with 33 altogether finally. But, he met those other ones in heaven before we did.

 

 

 

Dad #2

 

The second dad we honor today, is CoolGuy, the father of our family. He wasn't all that sure he was ready to be "dad" when we first married. But once we decided, he was awesome! He was ahead of his time in the "hands-on" category. He was never reluctant to change diapers, or wipe up barf, or do dishes, or laundry, or cook, or clean. That's why when friends would laugh that one reason they gave birth in the hospital was to have a little vacation, I'd just smile and say that CoolGuy gave me one at home. He would take off work and do everything for the first three or four days, just so I'd stay down and rest. He knew he'd have to enforce it. But, it was also really nice to have everyone in the same place and not be splitting time between the hospital and home. Here are some cool fatherhood shots across the years.

 

Middle School graduation, 1992?

 

The boys altogether in 1984.

 

Hiking in the canyon by the beach 1994ish.

 

Going to work, or coming home from work--1993?

 

He's loving Grandpa Time, too.

 

 

Pool time

 

Looking at the ocean

 

Card sharks

 

 

More pool time--Night Swimming!

 



Is This The End?

Well, I went to an appointment with my foot doctor this week. I wore two shoes. I took off the cast when school ended. I'd worn it since the first week of April, after the latest surgery, just to protect my foot. I'd foolishly taken it off after ten days, when the stitches came out, because I felt pretty good. However, after about five days with no cast, I got to the middle of a school day with a throbbing foot that felt like it could only be cured with an ax. Instead, I texted CoolGuy to please bring over my cast. Which I then did not go without until school had officially ended and I could sit down and walk fewer miles.

It seems to have worked! Between the right foot's cast allowing that surgery to heal, and the left foot's ingrown toenail surgeries (yes, plural) and their eventual...finally...healing, I left my foot doctor's office this week with----wait for it (!!) ---

no follow-up appointment.

 

Yes, read that again...I do not have another scheduled appointment at the foot doctor.

 

***fine print addendum: at this time, I do not have obvious reasons to return to the podiatrist. This does not rule out any future ped-collapsing as has happened in the past. This also does not indicate wonderful feet on my part. Any claim to have "good" feet, or "fine" feet on the part of the writer of this blog is to be taken with a very, very large grain of salt. She will never have good feet. But if she can go through another school year without having to have any foot surgeries it will be a year of celebration and jubilation. Huzzah!



Is There a Doctor in the House?

Well, the answer to that question, since June 2nd, is "yes"---our daughter is now a Doctor of Nursing Practice! She graduated from Oregon Health & Science University on Monday, and we were proudly sitting there in the auditorium watching. What a fine time to be the parents!

 

We were joined for this celebration by her sister. And we pretty much spent the weekend eating one delicious meal after another, laughing and talking. Portland was warm and sunny the entire three days we were there, too. It was pretty wonderful all around.

 

 

And, whereas these girls do have a bit of a Mutt and Jeff motif going, the difference in their heights is not actually this acute. The Doctor is also wearing 3-inch heels. In fact, she posed like this to tease her daddy.

 

 

During the "hooding ceremony" when the advisor places the doctoral hood over the neck of the candidate, she actually just squatted right down on her heels. Her advisor was a short person anyway, and then the heels....

 

One of her favorite moments was opening the gift sent up by her eight-year old nephew--aka: Brickman. He found it on the Lego website a couple of months ago, and just knew it was the perfect gift. He was right! In fact, the graduate carried the little figure in her pocket for the whole ceremony!

 





It was a totally great event, and we are just really proud of her for all the hard work. Plus, now when we get old [er], we know who to call when we need someone who really puts the "treat" in treatment.

 



The End Is Near

Well, when we came back to school on Tuesday, after the three-day weekend because of Memorial Day, people were just over it.

All the rules!
Why do we have to keep working when school is almost over?
Who cares about it anymore?
There's too much stuff still!
Seriously? More papers to work on?
Who needs to know this stuff?
Why should we even care about it!
We just want to be home, maybe sleep in a little bit.
We're so tired of being with these people!
All year--it's just been "Work, work, work"-we never get to do anything fun around here anymore!

And that is just the teachers....Imagine how the students feel!

Happy Birthday Trish

Can't let the day go by without saying "Happy Birthday" to my (almost) twin sister. We weren't really twins. We were born 15 months apart on the same day of the month: the 23rd. She was my constant companion for almost 20 years, until I moved off to California. But you know it's a good relationship when you can not see one another for months and months, and then just drop in, and it's like you were together just the day before.

We shared a bed until I graduated from high school. We shared a bicycle. We shared our clothes, until I got mad one year because a blouse I wanted to wear was dirty, and I announced that she could never again wear my clothes!! Ooops...that also meant that I couldn't wear hers, and that messed up my wardrobe more than it inconvenienced her. Rats.

We loved the barn cats and made up elaborate names and life stories for the endless bunch of them that came and went during the years we shared milking duties. We schemed about boys, and studied vocabulary words, and memorized scriptures, and tormented our little brother while we milked.

We rode horses together. We picked flowers together. We made a cool "hospital" in the little hiding place under the lilac tree in the yard where we'd take care of our patients---the little brothers and sister. We'd put damp lilac leaves on their wounds. We'd get turnips from the garden, and peel, slice and eat them with salt there in our hiding place. Once a year, our mother and big sisters would give the cellar a thorough cleaning, and we'd set up "school" down there in the newly empty space. Our pupils were the brothers and sister who were small.

We were an unbeatable bale hauling team. I'd usually toss them up on the wagon and she'd stack. We liked stopping for a pop at the little store on the way back down the highway from a field our dad rented several summers in a row. She actually didn't like carbonated sodas, but she'd drink a non-fizzy orange something. We were tough enough to haul the milk cans into town, too, and unload them ourselves onto the creamery's loading dock. There was always a lot of work to do, and she was never a slacker. We were excellent hired hands.

She was beautiful, too. She had fabulous blond hair that was naturally platinum. When we were going to college in the same town, but different schools, it was fun to go places with her and watch boys try not to stare too obviously. She was lots of fun, too, and people liked to hang around with her. I wish she was still around to talk to. I wish she was still around to see her gorgeous, wonderful grandchildren growing up. I hope people tell them stories about Grandma Trish, and about how she was a helpful, giving, sharing person who overcame a lot of difficult things in her life to become a really fine woman. I loved her.

Here she is, forty years ago at my wedding, when our uncle tried to marry her off to CoolGuy. She was engaged at that point to another guy, so she wasn't too eager to marry my choice.

Celebration

Forty years ago, my nervous uncle stood in a little church in Wyoming. He was getting ready to perform the first wedding since he'd been called to be the Mormon bishop for that congregation, and there was a fairly large crowd for that small building. Included in the spectators was the uncle of the groom, who also happened to be my uncle's supervisor. The mother of the bride was a little annoyed at the bride, so there was some tension in the room. The young couple took their places in between the best man and the maid of honor, who was the bride's sister. Then, as the eclectic crowd ---grandmothers, farmers, bikers, cousins, businessmen and lots of assorted relatives--- looked on, my uncle asked CoolGuy, "Do you take Trish to be your lawfully wedded wife?" A great question, except that she is my sister and was acting as maid of honor at this wedding for which, I, me, myself, was the bride.

It wasn't an unusual mistake for the time. My sister and I were born just 15 months apart---right on the same day of the month-- the 23rd. We were essentially raised as twins. We wore the handed-down matching dresses of our two older sisters. We were both little blonds, the 3rd and 4th girls born into our parents' family. Most people in our small community, and even our enormous extended family, rarely distinguished between us. We were just [EarthSignMama/Trish], all one word, most of our growing up years. To be confused at the wedding was actually kind of hilarious. I wasn't even annoyed at my dear anxious uncle.

CoolGuy just stood there, however, and blinked, and then said calmly, "Um, no...I want to marry [EarthSignMama]."  And that brought down the house! Loud guffaws ensued. My poor uncle turned bright red, apologized, started over, and this time, I was the one being offered as the wedded wife. And CoolGuy said, "Yes," and I did, too, and here we are, lo these many decades later. What a long, strange trip it's been.

 I made the Grateful Dead connection because music has been a defining element of our relationship. When we first got together, we each had quite a collection of vinyl LPs. Not much else...but lots of records. We listened to music regularly; we went to many concerts; most of our children are quite good musicians. I wanted to celebrate this anniversary by including a few of the songs that will always have a special meaning for us. There is no particular order. Just sometimes, the way things were in our lives, these songs will always conjure up a memory. (CoolGuy tells me that Sugar Magnolia is the Dead song that reminds him of me.)

We saw the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band several times because they appeared at the San Diego County Fair quite often. We'd ride the motorcycle up there to the grandstands that overlooked the ocean, and listen to these guys. One song that means a lot is Stand a Little Rain. There were plenty of times when these lyrics were our motto. Another memory buster is High Horse.

Another group that would appear often at that fair was The Righteous Brothers. They loved that venue, as they'd enthusiastically point out each time they performed. And so they did a really great job, too! There really isn't just one that we liked the most, so here's a good one with a message for us--Unchained Melody. You may remember that it was in the movie "Ghost." He was overseas when it came out. I went by myself to see it--don't go to a love story movie featuring a dead guy when your husband is in the middle of a war. Just saying... He saw it on the plane on the way back to California. When I picked him at the airport, he put a cassette in the car tape player and hugged me while the Righteous Brothers played "our song." Sigh.

Early in the marriage, we both came home one day to marvel with each other about a song we'd heard on the radio. Who was that guy? Where did he come from? It was Willie Nelson. Where had he been? Writing songs for decades, performed by other singers, that both of us had loved--Hello Walls, Crazy, Funny How Time Slips Away.  But then, he started recording his own songs. We saw him in concert over and over, too. It was the best music event you could go to: he was having a great time! It seemed like he'd have done it without an audience. The concerts went on and on...two hours of him and his troupe playing their music, and all of us enjoying ourselves like you wouldn't believe! Here's that first song we heard that affected us so---Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain.

We went to lots of concerts, did I say that already? It was SoCal in the 70's, and many groups came through there and tickets weren't expensive. Another group we saw more than once, because we couldn't stay away,  was The Bellamy Brothers. They were also a fantastic concert event. We even got to take all the kids to see them perform once as part of big festival sponsored by some family-friendly venue. The children had heard their records (or maybe we were using cassette tapes by then...) so many times that they could sing along! Here's Let Your Love Flow.

One day, CoolGuy peeked in the kitchen door from the garage and called, "Come and hear this guy on the radio! He's going to be huge, I tell you."  Here's what I heard--Guitars and Cadillacs by Dwight Yoakam. Yeah. He became huge. We saw him in concert several times, too. When CoolGuy was in Saudi Arabia helping the Marines during Desert Shield/Desert Storm, I sent him a video tape with one of Dwight's videos of a new song. It was warmly received in the wasteland of Saudi Arabia.

I could hardly chronicle the Music of Our Marriage without including The Eagles. We somehow managed to never get to one of their concerts, however. Rats. But we have so many memories of their music associated with our union. Here's a favorite--Best of My Love.

Another memorable concert from someone whose music we listened to constantly: Emmy Lou Harris. We got to see her in an intimate venue, alongside the water in San Diego. Here's Making Believe. 

This is getting crazy. The more I go back in my memory, the more I realized that this post might never end! George Thorogood, Junior Brown, Waylon Jennings, Kris Kristofferson, Smokey Robinson, Blondie, B.B.King, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Los Lobos, Loretta Lynn, Tammy Wynette, George Jones, The Neville Brothers, Linda Ronstadt, The Kendalls--I guess since we listened to music waaaaay more than we watched television, it isn't too weird that music is the biggest memory maker for me.

I think I'll end it, though, with the quintessential musical performance of the relationship. We saw a Johnny Cash concert once. It was a stunning performance. We'd both loved his music long before we got together. It was unanimous that June and Johnny were near the top of the beloved performers list for us both. One day, as I drove back to our house in Maryland, I was listening to a bluegrass radio show in the car. This song came on, and I had to pull over to the side of the road because the tears in my eyes kept me from seeing the lines on the road. It perfectly sums up how we've always felt, and now...after 40 years...is even more relevant.