heritage

My grandparents, my mother and uncle. Taken about 1922. Grandma's parents had immigrated from Denmark as young adults. Grandpa's family claimed relatives on the Mayflower, but grandpa was skeptical. Uncle became a dentist and died of Alzheimer's brought on by head trauma from a falll.
They were all good people.

afghan label

In our family there is a special place for hand made gifts. A loaf of bread, a visit, or a wonderful afghan. This is our oldest daughters gift to her mom for Miriam's birthday. Thank you again Arline. You are loved.

gift of love

My mom used to crochet.

Little string and a tiny hook and her right hand would blur as she made a chain, I think she called it.

Two of my daughters crochet. One of them has sold a pile of her work, but she works with fat fuzzy yarn and a hook the size of my first finger. She goes right at it too.

Then there is my oldest. Mildly compulsive (like her dad) and full of way more enthusiasm than any of the rest of us. She doesn’t crochet regularly, but when she does she goes at like a dervish.

Anyway for Miriam’s birthday, Arline -- the oldest one I just mentioned -- crocheted an afghan for Miriam. It is nice and fluffy, just right for a mid afternoon nap.

Then to make it really special she made this label. She quotes King David in Psalms 139:19.

It is a piece of beauty and a treasure. We will make good use of it.

And imagine making those stitches and counting: “fifty six thousand and three; fifty six thousand and four . . . :

PS Deanna tells me that she crochets and Arline knits, so I have it wrong in my head. You gals know the difference but I may not!

good kid amy

Amy is our youngest grand kid. She is loved so much. For a while yet, she is 10.

good kids

Today I was thinking about my grandkids.

We like to brag, we grandparents, about how bright our grand kids are, about how they walk at this age, and read shakespeare at this age. But I have known a few real geniuses in my lengthening life, and it is not all wonderful.

What I like about my grandkids is that they are really good kids, I rather doubt there is a real honest genius in the bunch, even though every grandfather harbors that dream.

So I celebrate the goodness of my grandkids. That is not a small thing.

There are a lot of good kids around, we often forget them. Most are torn in one way or other by what we adults have done to them. One of my friend’s grandkids have parents that are divorced, with mother living thousands of miles away and father has custody. Mom is interfering, my friend says.

I cannot possibly know all the ins and outs of this situation, but divorce has done a number on my family too. I can see that it is taking a toll on these children, all of them.

Maybe that is where grandparents fit in. I notice that as Miriam declines into her Alzheimer’s she seems to be unable to really relate to the little ones. That whole thing hurts. She was a superb mother and grandmother.

I like being a grandfather, next to being a dad it is the most wonderful thing I have ever done in my lengthening life.

Emily, Josh, Andrew, Matt (and the others) I love you and I love you for being really good kids, not perfect, not nutty bright, but really good.

By the way, you can be a good kid and still get a lot of A’s and B’s on your report card!

tomorrow

I get my macbook back.
It is a lot more comfortable writing while sitting in my recliner than on a hard oak chair.
Long may it live.

another

another tiny house from the SanFrancisco area. i always admire small spaces

the day after

Miriam did have a good birthday.

Cake, ice cream, grandkids and a daughter (and son in law). (I was there too, as was my sister!) There were a few gifts, the nicest a hand made afgan from daughter 1. I'll post a picture of the label as soon as I get my macbook back tomorrow.

But, like all visits it was over very soon. The company was here for just one night and parts of two days. Our small house is not good for long visits, particularly in winter.

They left and it was grandma (Miriam) and grandpa (dave) alone together. Puzzles, a bit of tv and bed early.

This morning more snow.

Brianna and Emily. They are 13 now, beautiful young women.

Miriam's birthday

Tomorrow is sweet Miriam's birthday, her 71st.

When she was diagnosed, right after her 62nd, I was sure the world would end any moment. I was devestated, to say the least.

But here we are a long time later, and she is still pretty wonderful. It is not perfect, but our life right now is good, very good actually.

Tomorrow one daughter and her family (husband and 4 kids) will visit overnight. That will make the day special. I expect the others to call as well. Our oldest grandson (also a David) shares the birthday with Miriam. He always calls, bless him. Miriam had a brother (Claude) 5 years old who shared this birthday, and the day that David was born another of Miriam's brother's had a grandson born. That is a lot of sharing of one birthday.

Unfortunately, we lost Claude last year.

It will be a good day and she will be pleased. We will have cake and ice cream, but no candles!

Incidentally, my trusty macbook is in the shop this week and I am doing this from an old mac destop I was given recently. It works, but it ain't the same. My book has 2 Gb of RAM this one has 256 Mb. How do you spell slow? Smallram!!

Lora (daughter #2) a long time ago. I miss those days. Love you Lora and Deanna and Linda and Arline, and all your children! (and husbands!!)

another goes

I got word last night that an acquaintenance had passed.

Unlike Jim, there won't be a crowd to his service, nor a whole lot of lamentations.

He was a throughly disagreeable guy who was right about everything, and who wore his religion in such a way to irritate everyone, sinner and saint alike.

Of course, I cannot help but compare him and his life to Jims. We mourn one for being such a good guy, and mourn for the other's illness and painful death, but with less compassion some way.

This guy had bad health, was terribly over weight, and was genuinely disagreeable, but he was a human and I hate to see any humn suffer. His sufferings are over.

But, I don't get the sense of closure I get with Jim. I keep wondering how close he was to the rest of us in ways I cannot understand. Was it his illness that made him a pain or the multitude of pains in his life that made him what he was.

I don't know, but that question will haunt me I am afraid.

owyhee lake, oregon

Slow news day here. I am working in my cabinet shop. But I long for spring and camping at some of my favorite places

Dea

Daughter three a long long time ago. I sure do love my girls!

food -- again

I thought I had the food thing figured out.

Miriam was one of the great vegetarian cooks. Her table was set with great food and it was done in color coordination as well as arrangement.

But that was then.

Now she opens cans and cooks 3 or 4 times too much food and her combinations are pretty wild.

During the months we were looking after Jim, it worked pretty well. We were together all of the time, so I would make the move for dinner prep and it went pretty well.

Footnote: we usually eat just twice a day, 9 and 4, and I have been the breakfast cook for a long time.

So, yesterday I had work to do in my cabinet shop and told her that I would come in at 4 and begin dinner, since we had breakfast an hour later than usual that morning.

But when I came in at 3:30, dinner was underway big time. Not terribly bad combinations, but way too much of it. I had her put back half of the broccoli she had ready to cook, then part of that half.

And when I said that she had agreed to let me fix dinner at 4, things came unhinged. As she was ranting, I remembered she had missed her pills that morning,and getting them down later in the day is always a challenge.

So, here we are today. I am not sure exactly what to do next, but I think it will involve a lot of wild combinations, of excess preparation and of food recycled to the compost.

Durn, I thought I had it all figured out. Oh well.