Emily and Grandma, the way we remember Grandma.

Happy Mothers day mom. You were the best.

mom's day

I lost my mom 27 years ago.

I was 45, Mom just 65. Miriam lost her mom a few years earlier. Marie was 57.

Both mom’s went to that dreaded cancer. Their minds were sharp to the end, but their bodies just could not take the punishment that cancer wrought.

There is no good time to loose a mother. Even though I lost mine a long time ago I think of her regularly, and wish I could talk to her. I tell Emily how much she would have enjoyed her great grandmother. How much my mom would have loved Emily and Jessica, Brianna and Amy.

So mothers day is a day of remembrance for me. She was a great mom, she endured so much when she was young, and she died way too young.

Emily was jut talking on the phone to her mom in Thailand. I reminded Emily that when my mom got sick my sister was in Africa and it took me two weeks to get through, working every night, just to leave a message at the school for Joyce to call back.

There is no happy end here. My daughters mom is going way, but a different way. Her body is healthy. Her memory is not.

So, to all of you who have moms and grandmas. Hug and hold them tight. Those of us who don’t have living mothers will be powerfully envious.

I will honor Miriam with all that the name Mom implies. She has been so good.

happy birthday

We have a lot of birthdays in May. This week Andrew turned 16, and my sister a bit older (though far younger than I). That was on the same day: May 4.
Happy birthday Joyce and you too Andrew.

field trip

Today was field trip day.

Matthew and the 5th and 6th graders at his school -- 4 classroom of them, for two days in two big busses.

They got in the bus yesterday morning at 7 in south west Washington and drove to Portland. Here they went to the Zoo and to OMSI.

Oregon Museum of Science and Industry is located along the Willamette River in an old building where they used to generate electricity. It has been massively expanded and includes a LOT of wonderful science experiments and information. There is even a old diesel/electric World War II submarine. I had an uncle who served on one like that back then.

Last evening they got to OMSI. Once inside, the doors were locked. No one could go in or out. There was 90 kids and 60 adults, about the right mixture, it seems to grandpa.

They kept the kids going hard all evening. They worked and they saw and they experimented. A sack lunch was furnished, and at 11:30, the lights went out and it was DARK.

Did I mention that they all slept there? Boys and girls, mothers and fathers, teaches and civilians. “Sleep in what you are wearing now.” was the order of the day. They brought pads and sleeping bags. Some parents were awake all night to “make sure” others slept well!

Arline had 4 boys, one being her own. They are good kids. One has a bit of a speech problem, one has serious skin problems, one lost his mother just a few months ago (she was a single mom and now he is being taken care of by an aunt).

Good kids, really good kids, but they are 11 and 12 and all over the place. Believe me, Arline is up to the challenge and she kept them all in line with a bit of loud talk and a lot of grinning and love.

But we are here in town and we don’t see each other enough. So Arline asked the person in charge if there was any time she could get off and spend time with her parents.

This morning was that time. Three wonderful hours.

Arline is a big time knitter, so we went to a couple of yarn shops (talk about a cult!!). I bought a small skein of blue Linen yarn that will work really well in some book binding I am working on.

But mostly it was about just for us to be together.

Interestingly, we saw Lora on our way through her town, we saw Deanna here in Portland and now we have seen Arline. The only daughter we have not seen is Linda and we are staying in her house with her Emily.

Strange how all of that that works sometimes.

Emily wears braces now and will soon have wonderful straight even teeth.
I had always hoped to get a picture of her with the two front teeth missing, but they never came out at the same time.
Still, love that grin.

happy grandpa

I have been driving Emily to school since we have been here.

Her mom does sometimes, so I am not bending tradition too much here. But I have done it almost every day.

Friday schedule is different. Her school, a Catholic high school, says that it is “The School That Works.” When I remember that every kid has a school sponsored job each Friday it all came together.

Most of the jobs are clerical jobs requiring clean clothes. Emily works in the Portland Zoo, at the children's petting zoo. Clean clothes are optional and the Zoo furnishes rubber boots. At first it involved a bit of shovel and fork work, but now it involves working with the animals and training others to work with them.

Emily is an official “goat trainer” now. Since I like goats (having owned a few myself), I am pleased, and while the work was not terribly glamourous, I assured her that if she worked good at it they would find her a whole different job next year. At first she was not sure she liked the job, but through the year it has become enjoyable (good for you Emily--the big book talks about those who do good work at simple things get to work on more important thing).

So, anyway, today she offered to take the bus to school, from where they go to their jobs (so the school has a better handle on what is going on). She has a bus pass, so that part is not difficult.

“Emily, you know when I am home in a week or two I will sit and think of all of the time I ‘ wasted’ going with you and wishing I had spent it more useful.”

RIGHT? NOOOO.

I will say to myself that it was so wonderful, each moment I spent with Emily, and it will be such a good memory.

She grinned and got the keys to the Jeep.

ahh, beauty thanks to Dreyers!

hmm

I bit off the top here!

I became the head cook a year ago, which is hardly what I had expected (until the AD diagnosis). She was such a good cook.

Today it dawned on me that right here, right now, I am also the nurse. I really had not planned on that one. We have good daughters, one an RN, and good sons in law (one an EMT) so I have great back up.

But as I have been leaning on others and working on Emily’s infection I have been bumped up against the reality that this is way over my head!

I do go with Miriam to see the doctor, but so far that has not involved big problems. I did help her decide to have surgery a few years ago, and followed through OK.

And she healed and is fine now (that part at least).

Emily will be fine, gradually getting better.

Today Emily is coming home from school in the city bus/train. This is the first time she has taken the bus since we have been here. In the last week plus, come to think about it, we have had precious few “normal” days.

My plan to do a lot of garden work has been twarted a bit. It is a colder than I like, and the dirt is wet wet wet.

I did make a couple trips to the paper store. I am working on some new books. Suggestion has been that I put my art/craft on Etsy.com, but so far I have resisted. Maybe the discipline of getting work out to sell would be good. But there are a lot of things in life that are more fun when there is no money involved.

Hmm.

View from the bus.

Miriam (oops it is Lora) is so square

update

I took Emily to see her doctor last evening.

She has a couple of infections that might turn into an appendicitis and might not. She has been taking medicine and today she is a bit better.

Miriam and I are going for a walk to the drug store to get a thermometer so we can know that important number.

Oh, and we are getting a big bag of frozen peas (remember how little I like peas?). Frozen peas make a great cold pack, and they are cheap! (And I won't likely eat them soon).

Doctor Sara said for her to stay home from school today, so I called the school and told the answering machine who I was, and what my relationship was to the child in question.

Interesting system.

Emily looking for bugs, a few years ago.

whoa

I signed on for grandpa duty, you know. . .

Get Emily and take her places (sort of a relative taxi service) and keep her fed, which is not easy -- said granddaughter is 14 7/8 after all.

That is all in the thin book about grandpa duty.

But now the book is getting larger. Do not get confused here, I am not complaining, just amazed and bewildered.

I have been to the ER with her; To her alternative medicine person; I just signed her out of school. Is there a trend here?

The best they can see now is that there is an appendix issue here most likely, and likely it will not get better for long.

Aunts are rallying (Mom is in Thailand) uncle the EMT is consulted and grandpa, so non medical, is doing as all of these people tell him. Emily is a strong willed child and as always that is mostly good and sometimes not so good.

I went to visit a daughter once and another asked how long dad would stay. "Until he is bored."

Can you be busy and bored both?

House number for a new fancy house in the neighborhood.
Some would have worried about the crooked numbers, but not this person.

strange kitchen

It is a challenge to step into someone else’s house and stay a while.

It could be harder for a beginner cook too. I am barely competent (maybe C-) in my own kitchen.

My experience is so shallow I know how to cook with one set of pans along with my trusty Kitchen Aid.

Today I am making black olive bread to take to a friends house for dinner this evening. Rozella invited us. We will take emily, her computer and that loaf of bread!

I forgot to bring yeast to make bread (though I did bring the rest of the ingredients). So I had to look for some beyond the little flat packets, which often can make a loaf of bread more spendy than from a good bakery.

This particular recipe raises three times and is kneaded between each raising. That makes it really good, but it also takes more time.

I wrote that while the bread was raising. This the next day:

We had just the right amount of time. I took the bread out of the oven put it in a padded cardboard box and we were out the door. We had to drive to North Portland to get Emily, then drive south to Ron and Rozella’s.

And it was raining.

In spite of it all, it was a good evening.

The bread? It was superb and on the table, it just evaporated.

the man

It was cold and it was raining.

Not a Texas rain of an inch in 30 minutes, but a slow drizzle rain typical of the coastal north west.

The man was driving home. He was a good ways from home yet, but his car was warm and it would be a pleasant if grey ride. Then the engine missed. He had not expected that, but he knew the meaning.

And then the engine quit altogether.

The man noticed a road side gas station ahead, the kind with a small convenience store, and an equally small fast food joint. Not unusual at all up in his part of the country.

He coasted to a stop right in front of a phone booth. In an era of cell phones it was empty. He had given his cell phone to his wife that morning, hers was not working properly, but the phone booth only contained a very small light bulb. It was amazing that it was even there.

But as he stared into the darkness, he saw something hovering in the cold was a young woman. She was crying.

The man, an old guy with white hair was properly judged to be trustworthy. He inquired. She did not want to have her children see her cry. She poured out her story through her tears.

She had left her abusive husband, she was on her way to her parents some hours from where she had been living, she had just put her last money into gas for the car, it was not enough to get them to their destination and her three children had not eaten all day.

The man pulled out a twenty, gave it to the oldest child and sent them to the fast food joint to get that much food for them. They ate like hungry animals. He had the woman drive up to the gas pump and using his credit card he filled her tank with gas.

He reached in his wallet and there were two twenties left. He gave them to her for any expenses she might have on the rest of her trip. Her thanks was profuse and heart felt. She drove off into the night.

The man was out of cash now, it was still raining, he was wet and cold and his car was dead. He sat there for a few minutes hoping for a bit of warmth, and without thinking, really, he put the key in the ignition, turned the key and the engine purred to life.

I am a christian, I believe in miracles, but I am also a bit road weary and skeptical. Everything that we refer to as a miracle is not, and I do not know if this was or not.

What I do know is that the man saw the incident as a opportunity to help another human, He took that opportunity, at some inconvenience and expense to himself.

The story teller was a man I have known a long time. He is a gentle, kind man. A biologist by training and education, he later was the president of the small college I once attended. He did not identify the man in the story.

But I am sure that it was an autobiographical story. Yet he told it with such humility and care that it could not possibly be boasting even if it was him.

The incident, he said, was an opportunity to help, and the man, whoever he was, took that opportunity.

Thank you.

loosing her

Last night I went to the grocery store to get some popping corn.

Of course I took Miriam with me.

We were walking down the aisles, holding hands. I was saying sweet words to her when no one was looking. It is just the way I do things!

I squeezed her hand and said “I love you.” I think that is all I said!

Then I turned around and a young woman was standing right behind us.

She grinned and glanced at me. I grinned back.

I did not intend for there to be an audience, but it is OK.

What I wanted to tell the lady, but obviously did not is this: Look lady. This woman has been my dearest friend since we were 15 and I am loosing her. She is not running off with the mail man, she is just going away, one memory at a time.

And while I have her I will tell her how much she means to me, and I will do it all sorts of ways. I will tell her how much I adore her bosoms. I will comment on her dress and how nice she looks in it. How smooth her hands have always been. I will tell her how much I love to be close to her and hold her hand.

I am in love, totally, immeasurably in love. There is no one else to tell but her and while she loves to hear me talk nice to her, I am totally aware of the fragility of life and memory.

I love you Miriam. You have given so much. You are so beautiful.

bigger is better

At least it has always seemed to be the way it was.

Dad owned a Ford when he was young but when he became more successful that Ford evolved into a larger and heavier Mercury and maybe into a Lincoln eventually.

Or it could have been Chevy -- Buick -- Cadillac. Or given some sort of pseudo humility, it might have still been a Buick, but the model that was indistinguishable from a Caddy except for the name tags.

Remember the cars of the late 50’s and 60’s. Big and bigger, huge and hugger.

Then (this is my version) Mercedes came along. A smaller package, a lighter car, but with better engineering, better fit and more comfortable goodies in and out. Slowly our ideas changed.

Now if you want a luxury car you look at a Lexus or an Infinity or even a Cadillac that are quite small by comparison with the old Cads and Olds.

I have been driving my dodge pickup around Portland, but I have switched back to Linda’s Jeep. They get the same gas mileage, no big deal there, but that jeep is much smaller and a LOT easier to park and maneuver and just as comfortable.

So. . .

I predict. . .

Houses will go like cars. Size will be less of an advantage, less of a bragging right . Houses will get smaller and more useful and more practical. The issue may be a bit about cost, but not entirely. That Mini Cooper is not cheep, yet they sell. The Smart car is tiny, sells for a pretty good hunk and only gets 40 mpg. There are Honda cars that do that well and seat 4. But small is beginning to be cool.

There is a certain bragging right to small cars now, and it will increase.

A small house has less places to put things, so you have less stuff, It is easier to clean, because there is less of it. Taxes are lower, maintenance is less. It is an easier to live with package.

Do I suggest we will all live in tiny houses? No. But already the average size of new houses are getting smaller.

All houses are made of the same stuff. It is hard to say that a big house is better made. The basic materials are all the same. The sexy do dads may be different. Granite rather than laminate. Wood windows. The stuff you might be able to see are upgraded, what you cannot see is not.

That is how I see our future. Smaller, more compact housing, and if designed carefully better in every way. And that leaves us with the importance of good artists and designers in our lives.

It is not the length of our lives that matters but the quality. Same concept.

Enough soap box.