Plentiful Sufficiency

Finding Gratitude in the Parking Lot

2011-08-27T22:09:00.000-07:00

Last Friday, on my search for yard sale treasure, I drove past the high school. I have to admit that I may have laughed gleefully out loud when I saw the full parking lot. Teachers are back at school getting ready for students to arrive on Monday morning, and I am blissfully cruising the yard sales. I feel only a sense of relief that I don't have to go back to work. I did sign up to substitute and I already have a few dates booked, but I'm only accepting assignments for content that I enjoy teaching. I feel incredibly grateful that I can chose to work or not. I might have to drive by that parking lot again...it sure felt good!

I am grateful. Retired life is good!

Day in the Life

2011-04-27T22:38:00.000-07:00

At the park 4/27/11

I'm in Austin, Texas visiting my grandchildren. There is really no place I would rather be than hanging out with Megan (5) and Hunter (3). Their parents head off to work in the mornings and I have the kids all to myself until the work day is over. This year Megan started kindergarten and her parents insist that she attend, even on days that Nana is in town. Hunter and I hang out at home, reading books, coloring, and watching Dora the Explorer until it is time to walk to school to pick up Megan.

I am starting to adjust to the Texas climate. When I left Oregon we were looking forward to temperatures above 60. In Texas we're in the high 80's with humidity. My hair was actually weeping by the time I pushed the stroller all the way to the elementary school. Today I remembered to carry a water bottle with me.

Every day we pick up Megan from the blue painted rectangle in the front of the school that corrals the kindergarten students until their parent or designated adult shows up to claim them. We stop at the park halfway between school and home and Megan and Hunter swing and climb on the play structures and demand that I "Look at me, Nana" or "Push me, Nana." We always pack a snack. One of the best parts of going to the park is a bag of crackers and a juice box!

Today we spent about a half an hour at the park before I suggested that it was time to head home. Hunter climbed into the stroller and Megan skipped along behind us stepping on our shadows and announcing it to Hunter every time she stepped on her head.

A few blocks from the park I turned to Megan and said "Watch out for the dog poop." She skipped by the small fresh pile on the sidewalk and we continued up the street to the corner where Hunter declared, "I want to see the dog poop!"

I pushed the stroller across the street while telling Hunter, "It's back there on the sidewalk. I didn't want Megan to step in it." Hunter turned her head and leans over the side of the stroller trying to catch a glimpse of the dog poop.

"I can't see it," she exclaims loudly "I want to see the dog poop. Go back! I want to see the dog poop!"

I am an adoring grandmother. I am usually a pushover for anything these kids ask for, but dog poop? I was not going back to view dog poop!

So for the next two blocks my darling 3 year old granddaughter is screaming "I want to see the dog poop. I want to see the dog poop." She kept up the litany until Nana found another, somewhat dried out, pile of poop. In my best indulgent Nana voice I told her "Look Hunter, there's another pile of dog poop." She looked and she was happy.

Just another day in the life of #1 Nana...life is good.

End of the Journey

2011-04-20T19:23:00.000-07:00

My father-in-law had a heart attack this morning. He was taken to the emergency room and now has been moved to hospice. He is in his 90's and has advanced Alzheimer's. He is conscious, but not really aware. Last night he held his wife's hand and she believed he knew she was there. Today his eyes are open but when asked who she was, he mumbled incoherently. He is on morphine for pain, but they are not performing any other procedures to prolong his life. My mother-in-law was told he would probably die within the week.

The spouse is heading to Portland tomorrow morning with his brother to be with his mother. This is a time of conflicting emotions for the spouse. When we last visited his father together a few months ago, he recognized the spouse. When the spouse visited by himself a few weeks later, his father did not know him. The spouse says he's known his father was gone and that he has had months to get used to the idea that his father would die. But now he is in the final stage of dying and the reality is still difficult to accept, even though the essence of his father has been gone for some time. While he waits for his father to die, he is not mourning the man who clings to life, but the man his father once was. Knowing that his death is a blessing that will release his father from the ravages of Alzheimer’s does not make letting go any easier.

As people around us will celebrate Easter, we will mourn the loss of my father-in-law. Life and death, it’s the natural course of events. Tomorrow the sun will rise and set and life will go on. I remind myself that without experiencing loss, it is difficult to appreciate the gift of life. Today I appreciate the life of my father-in-law.

A Close Call

2011-03-30T00:04:00.000-07:00

My daughter, Sarah, planned to buy a new car next year, but then a driver in a SUV rammed into the rear of her little Honda Accord at full speed while she was stopped in traffic.

Right after the accident she emailed me a picture of what was left of her car. The message said “Do not panic. I am okay.” The entire rear section of her car was crumpled. The rear seat was pushed forward and covered with broken glass.

There is much to be grateful for:

The car compacted around her, but she was protected, even though the air bags did not deploy. Thank God for crumple zones.

The accident happened a half a block from the day care center. Sarah usually picks the kids up on her way home from work. That day my son-in-law picked them up. My grandchildren would have been strapped in to their car seats in the back of the car as the frame crumpled around them and broken glass rained down.

Sarah walked away from the accident. She continues to have some physical discomfort as a result of the accident, but she is alive.

Sarah had always wanted a Mini Cooper. She selected the new Mini Cooper Countryman and it was delivered, fresh off the boat, last week…a full year before she had planned to have a new car. It is now equipped with new car seats for the kids.

I am grateful.

I'm Not The Only One

2011-02-25T13:14:00.000-08:00

I live in a small, rural town in eastern Oregon. I live in the Republican stronghold part of Oregon. I know a few Democrats, a few out of the closet liberals, and several closeted gays. In a small town, everyone knows your business...even people you've never laid eyes on. You don't need six degrees to find a connection to anyone in a small town. Eastern Oregon is a conservative culture. It is easy to acquire a reputation, earned or unearned, truth or fiction, that will haunt you for years. In a small town this collective knowledge can impact your livelihood. I have great respect for the individuals in my town that work with PFLAG, or immigration reform, or other controversial issues.

When I was working I was careful about sharing my liberal views. People knew I was a Democrat and for a long time I had a pro-choice bumper sticker, but once I became a school administrator the bumper sticker came off my car. I didn't write letters to the editor of the local paper. My career was hurt by advocating for non- English speaking students at a time when the popular stance was to "send those Mexicans back to Mexico." The popular opinion was that those Mexicans were syphoning off resources that should go to "our" students. Then I became the Special Education Director and once again I championed a minority acused of syphoning away resources from "our students." "Our students" were, of course, the middle class regular education kids.

I'm sure you've heard people complain about the school system: how it spends so much money on those kids who don't speak English or on those special needs kids that a regular kid can't get any help. Have you heard them in the beauty shop complaining about how their son, nephew, cousin is a genius but he can't get any specialized instruction because the school spends all its money on those other kids? Now that I'm retired I can say BULLSHIT!

Where do people get off believing that their children are more entitled than other children to free public education?

Public education is like running a race. All the kids are aiming for the same finish line. Each state has established its own finish line and the hurdles that all kids need to jump to complete the race. The job of educators is to get kids to the finish line. Not all kids start the race at the same place. Some kids leap ahead and some lag behind. I know it's popular to chant that "All kids can learn" and "All kids can meet high expectations," but the truth is that there are some kids who will never learn algebra, hell, some kids will never learn to recognize numbers. All kids can learn, but not all kids learn the same way or at the same rate. Just like in a race, we help the participants along the way. We've got education aid centers set up along the race path. Any kid who need the educational equivalent of gatoraide should get it and move along to the finsih line. Some kids reach the finish line early and we cheer and clap for them at special assemblies that honor the golden children. But there are other classmates to those students who are struggling to be toilet trained, or to master basic arithmetic facts, or to learn to read. Those kids run at a slower pace and need help over the hurdles. Our obligation is to help everyone to the finish line.

Face it, some kids need more help than others. Public education isn't about giving the same thing to every kid, its about helping ALL kids reach the state established finish line. Some kids get more help than others because some kids need more help.

I used to feel like a lone ranger, out of touch with many in my community. Since I've started to speak my mind and publish it on my blog, I've had surprising responses from friends and acquaintences. Perhaps the silent majority is really the liberals in eastern Oregon?

So, this week I'm grateful for the insight that blogging has brought me. I'm not the only one.

Nana's Arms Are Wide Open

2011-02-08T21:07:00.000-08:00

I've written several times about my belief that the Universe provides us with learning experiences. The Universe doesn't give up on us when we don't learn a lesson, but provides additional opportunities to reach enlightenment.

Funny how the universe can provide just what you need...even when you don't realize you are looking for it. Today I heard an old Creed song on the radio in my car. For some reason it stuck with me all day. I think it was a message I needed to hear.

"If I had just one wish
Only one demand
I hope he's not like me
I hope he understands
That he can take this life
And hold it by the hand
And he can greet the world
With arms wide open..."

Isn't that a great way to live your life...with arms wide open.

Crossing the Atlantic

2011-02-06T21:55:00.000-08:00

Ile de France

In May of 1955 I made my first and only transatlantic crossing on an ocean liner. I was four years old and I sailed on the Ile de France from England to America with my mother, two year old brother, and my Auntie Pam to join my father and uncle in California.

Although the Second World War had ended in 1945, England still suffered the deprivations of war. One relic I have of my life in England is my ration book. It is hard to believe that food, especially fruit, was still rationed ten years after the war had ended. My parents wanted a better life and decided to immigrate to the United States. Like many before us, we boarded a ship to sail to America. I remember little of the journey but a vague recollection that the ship smelled of porridge and fresh paint.

Built by the French Line in 1927, the Ile de France was sold for scrap in 1959. But the ship had one last moment of glory. It was used as a floating prop in the 1960 disaster film, The Last Voyage and was partially sunk.

The luxurious ocean cruiser that ended its days by being sunk in a movie became a major character in the story of our immigration voyage told at family gatherings. That was my only cruising experience for over fifty years.

In 2008 I retired from public education. Now when students head back to school in the fall, I take a vacation. This past September my husband and I took a cruise on the Norwegian Line to Alaska. Although I remember little of my first voyage, I imagine it was quite different from a vacation cruise. One story my mother told of our journey was that we weren’t allowed to sit in certain deck chairs because they were reserved for other passengers.

When my mother died I kept an old leather suitcase embossed with her initials. The suitcase has a hang tag from the Ile de France. Although I arrived in the United States by boat, my family’s story isn’t different from other immigrants. We came looking for a better life. I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like if we remained in England, but it is an impossible question to answer. It is enough to be grateful for the opportunities that this country has provided for me and my family.

Life is good.

A Flood and a Miracle

2011-01-19T00:43:00.000-08:00

The weather is dreary; it's been raining for several days. The snow is gone and the river in our backyard is over flowing its banks. The park on the opposite side of the river from our house is flooded. But even in the cold and damp of winter there is reason to celebrate.

On Monday the spouse went to the cardiologist for his regular appointment. Ever since his heart attack, he has visited the cardiologist every six months. The doctor says his EKG shows no evidence that he has ever had a heart attack. The doctor said that if he didn't know that the spouse had had a heart attack, he wouldn't be able to tell from the tests. His test results are not those of a person who has had a heart attack! Two and a half years since his heart attack and he has made a complete recovery. He doesn't have to return to the cardiologist for another year.

I am grateful for the doctors and the modern technology that kept my husband alive. And, I am especially grateful for the miracle that has allowed him to make a complete recovery.

Life is good!

No Compromises

2011-01-11T22:50:00.000-08:00

The spouse is out of town on business. He doesn't travel often, so when he does it's like a little vacation for me. I enjoy the perks of living single. I sleep in the middle of the bed and never wake up freezing because all the covers have been pulled to the other side of the bed. I am the goddess of the TV remote control and never have to linger on ESPN or those wildlife and fishing shows. My meals are exactly what I want to eat, when I want to eat them. Best of all...the toilet seat will remain down all week!

I am grateful for the little breaks in our routine, but I will be just as grateful to have him home Thursday night.

Letting Go

2011-01-06T12:31:00.000-08:00

For a long time I thought that the hardest thing I ever had to do was to walk away from my daughter. She was 15 and heading off for a year as an exchange student in Spain. We had spent a great week enjoying the sites in New York City before meeting at the airport with the group of students going to Spain. My flight heading back to Oregon left from another terminal an hour before her flight left. I still don’t know how I found the strength to turn and walk away from my child knowing that it was the last time I would see her for a year. Intellectually I knew that I had to let her go, but the mother part of me wanted to hold her safe and near.

Several years later I had to walk away from her brother. Over a long weekend my son went through a battery of tests and evaluations and it was determined that he needed residential treatment for his substance abuse problem.   The day after Thanksgiving my husband and I drove him 150 miles to a residential drug treatment center. I walked away and left him there knowing that it was the only real hope for a future that he had, but the mother part of me still wanted to hold him safe and near.

When people talk to me about difficult decisions, leaving my kids is what I think about. Part of being a parent is making tough decisions.   The easier decision would have been to not let go, or to not see the drug problem. Knowing that it was the right thing to do didn’t ease the pain of letting go. The ache was there, but it dulled with the joy of seeing my children grow and prosper.

This past Christmas my entire family flew to California to my brother's house in San Diego to celebrated the holiday.  The last time we were all together for Christmas was four years ago when my mother died a few days before the holiday.  Four generations celebrated Christmas under one roof. I slept well at night knowing that my children, who are now 30 and 32, were tucked safe and warm in their beds.

The moments together are increasingly rare and treasured. However, these days it is easier to let them go because I know from experience that they will return safely.

I am grateful for family who love me despite my numerous faults and for my children who, even though I've let them go numerous times, occasionally return to the nest.

Plentiful Sufficiency Reaches One Year

2011-01-02T20:58:00.000-08:00

I started blogging over at the other blog just over a year ago. I started Plentiful Sufficiency a few weeks later on January 7, 2010. So, next Friday I will celebrate the one year anniversary.

I started this blog because other blogs I had seen had a theme. Since I don't knit or scrapbook, I had a hard time thinking of a theme. Readers of my blogs know that I am a big fan of Oprah...and she is always harping about journaling and gratitude. Problem solved, I decided to blog about gratitude.

The title of the blog came from my childhood. My brothers and I could not leave the dinner table without being excused. My mother did not like us to say "I'm full." She would ask us "You've had a plentiful sufficiency?" In my house plentiful sufficiency meant that one had enough.

The blog has forced me to think about gratitude, perhaps not as frequently as Oprah would like, but certainly far more frequently than I did previously. I find it easy to overlook how much I have to be grateful for. It is easy for me to focus on what I don't have rather than what I do. I can look with envy at what others have that I don't, but neglect to recognize all that I have been given.

Several times in the past few months I have considered ending this blog. I've gotten over the idea that I need to have a theme, and frankly sometimes I've struggled with being grateful. But, for now, I've decided to continue. Oprah is right; it is a good idea to focus on gratitude.

I'm grateful to all of you who have read and commented on my postings. Your encouragement kept me writing.

Happy New Year! Thank you for sticking with me this year. I look forward to another year of celebrating all that I have to be grateful for.

Substitute Blessings

2010-12-02T18:45:00.000-08:00

Today I was a substitute teacher in Language Arts at the high school. I had senior and junior classes. This morning I got to read Tolstoy's, The Long Exile as snow fell quietly outside our classroom window. This afternoon we're reading Ambrose Bierce's, An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge.

They actually pay me to do this!

Every time I substitute I learn something new. Prior to the start of my first period class I googled Tolstoy so I knew more detail about his background. I never knew that he was influential in the development of the pacifist doctrine of non-resistance. He was obsessed with the Sermon on the Mount and saw the command to "turn the other cheek" as justification for nonviolence and nonresistance. He wrote The Kingdom of God Is Within You (1893), titled after Luke’s Gospel in the New Testament. Tolstoy's writings were influential to both Gandhi and Martin Luther King. Who knew?

I hadn't known that Ambrose Bierce disappeared under mysterious circumstances in Mexico. The mystery was never solved.

I'm pretty lucky to learn something new every day and get paid for it!

Life is good!

We All Fall Down

2010-11-28T17:18:00.000-08:00

Have you seen the new GM commercial, "We All Fall Down?"

In the spirit of the season I am going to assume that it was created to sincerely thank the government and the tax payers who offered a helping hand, and the GM workers who have brought about the remarkable turnaround at GM. A more cynical person might think it is a brilliant marketing strategy. Either way...I love it. What do you think?

Thanksgiving

2010-11-21T14:40:00.000-08:00

It is snowing outside as I write this. The first flurries of snow were enough to send the spouse out to the garage to put the snow tires on my car. Left to my own devices I would have gone to Les Schwab, but apparently the line for snow tire installation reaches around the block. One of the gifts of retirement is the luxury of not having to go anywhere. I can ignore the snow and stay snug in my living room, except when I need to get to the airport. Tomorrow I have to go to the airport.

The spouse and I are going to Texas for Thanksgiving. Since our first grandchild was born five years ago, we have spent every Thanksgiving with my daughter and her family. Our son decided not to make the trip, so we are cooking a mini-Thanksgiving dinner today so he will still have leftovers to enjoy next week.

So, the snow is falling and the smell of roasting turkey is wafting through the house and I am thankful:

...for a handy spouse who can install my snow tires

...for a son who will take care of the house while we travel (his dad gave him an instructional lecture on how to defrost pipes in case it freezes while we are gone!)

...for the resources to be able to travel

...for seven days with the granddaughters to look forward to.

Editor's update: I had already pushed the post button when the spouse came into the house and told me the snow tires were on my car and there was one more thing to be grateful for. Faithful readers will remember the post about the spouse's habit of gleening hubcaps on the freeway. While installing my snow tires he discovered that one of my hubcaps was broken. Turns out he had another one in his ~~pile~~ collection of hubcaps. Now I'll never break him of the habit...or hear the end of it!

Life is good. Happy Thanksgiving.

Sunset Years

2010-11-14T18:18:00.000-08:00

While I loved getting the extra hour of sleep last weekend, I don't like the darkness coming so early in the afternoon. On the other hand, if it wasn't getting dark at 4:30 in the afternoon, I would have missed this beautiful sunset.

On Sunday I went shopping in the Tri-Cities, Washington, about 30 miles north of Hermiston. I stopped on the freeway on-ramp to snap these photos. The light was fading fast. When I first headed south to drive home the entire sky was red and orange with patches of blue close to the horizon.

One of the blessings of living in the rural part of the state is the wide open spaces and the sunsets that span the horizon. I think I have taken these sights for granted in the past. Now that I am retired I can take the time to stop and marvel at the beauty.

Life is good!

No Longer a Rat in a Cage

2010-11-06T18:04:00.000-07:00

On Friday I was lounging around the house in my pajamas and I got an email from a friend inviting me to lunch. I responded that I was still in pj's, but could meet her by 12:15. She emailed back and told me I'd have to get dressed. With the promise of a restaurant meal and good company, I was motivated to get dressed and drive the mile into town.

Before I retired I ate lunch out several times a week. Now I rarely do. My friends are still working and it is difficult for them to schedule in advance, and it is difficult for me to motivate myself to get out of the house. Usually my lunch dates are limited to a meal at the bowling alley for the twice monthly Lion's Club meetings.

Driving into town to meet my friend I started to feel stressed. Since I retired stress is a rare event. I realized that I was stressing about where we would go to lunch. Hermiston has very few dining options. How fortunate am I that the only thing I have to worry about is where to eat lunch!
Over lunch we talked a little about the current state of education and the challenges that our district faces. My friend shared some of her ongoing projects and we brainstormed approaches to some of the barriers to success. As I frequently have since I retired, I felt a sense of relief that I no longer have to deal with the bullshit of public education. I don't have to attend committee meetings, where the outcomes are predetermined, to explore changes to whatever is currently in disfavor by the higher authority. I don't have to implement the predetermined changes recommended by the committee and pretend that I believe it is the best thing for students. I don't have to reassure teachers that everything will be okay, when I have serious doubts that it will be. I don't have to pretend to respect district leaders who have done nothing to earn respect. I don't have to be a part of the big lie.
My heart aches for my friends who are still trapped in the system. There was a time that I was proud to be a part of the school leadership. I believed that we were all working together in a collaborative effort to improve our schools, to serve our students, to provide the best opportunities for our kids that we could. We respected each others opinions, expected everyone to participate and we worked long and hard to make a difference for kids. We worked in an environment of trust. I don't see that now, but, almost all of the administrators from the previous administration are gone. Time will tell if this top down, militaristic approach to school management has really improved outcomes for students.
I am grateful that I don't have to work in an environment where the expectation is that we pretend that everything is wonderful and we stab each other in the back. Lyrics from a Smashing Pumpkins song are stuck in my head "despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage." I am grateful that this rat is free to worry only about what to eat for dinner!

This post isn't really in the spirit of the theme of this blog. For that I apologise. Lately, especially following the recent elections, I'm more angry than grateful. Perhaps I need a blog just to rant about the things that irritate me. This blog may have run it's course. I find myself writing more on my other blog, Benchmark 60. Is it time to let this one fade away? What do you think?

Happy Mole Day!

2010-10-23T14:31:00.000-07:00

Today is Mole Day and my 60th birthday. What is Mole Day you ask? According to the National Mole Day Foundation Inc., Mole Day is celebrated annually on October 23 from 6:02 a.m. to 6:02 p.m.. Mole Day commemorates Avogadro's Number (6.02 x 10^23), which is a basic measuring unit in chemistry. Mole Day was created as a way to foster interest in chemistry. Ever since they took high school chemistry, my children have been wishing me a Happy Mole Day instead of a happy birthday. So Happy Mole Day everyone…has your interested in chemistry been fostered?

I am spending the week in Austin, Texas with my grandchildren, Megan (5) and Hunter (3). The older I get, the more I realize how quickly time passes. I can see how much Megan and Hunter have grown every time I visit. They aren’t babies anymore. They are small, interactive humans. You can have a conversation with either of them and understand most of what they are talking about.

This morning I found evidence in the bathroom that someone had diarrhea. I asked Hunter, “Do you have diarrhea?”

“No,” she said shaking her head, “I don’t have diarrhea.” Then she wandered from room to room, searching saying “Where’s my diarrhea?” I enjoyed that sight for a few minutes before trying to explain to her what diarrhea was. I finally took her into the bathroom and showed her the potty chair.

“See the poop in the potty,” I said “that’s diarrhea.”

“Yes!” she says “There’s MY diarrhea.”

It’s a great way to celebrate turning the big six-oh. Grandchildren keep me in touch with the child I used to be.

Life is good. Happy Mole Day!

Nana Has a Writing Revelation

2010-10-17T18:45:00.000-07:00

I haven’t had much to write about lately. My reclusive, retired life hasn’t given me much fodder for writing. What I have done is read several books by writers on writing. I enjoy reading about how other writers do it. What inspires them? How often do they write? Where do they write? There’s so much I want to know about how to write.

Advice that is often given is just to write every day. I suppose that’s good advice because sometimes I can find a nugget of worthwhile prose in a page of drivel. Occasionally an idea in my daily jottings turns into a longer piece, but what I have now is several notebooks of random observations and mundane thoughts.

I just finished reading A Broom of One’s Own: Words on Writing, Housecleaning and Life by Nancy Peacock. The author is a writer whose first book was selected by the New York Times as a Notable Book of the Year. Prior to publishing her first book, she dreamed of the day she would be published and her life would change. She could give up her day job as a house cleaner and spend her days writing. Then she was published and nothing changed. After the first whirlwind book tour she still had to pay her bills, so she went back to cleaning houses and writing in her spare time. Sometimes she even found copies of the books she had written on the shelves in the houses that she cleaned. She kept writing because she had to.

Since I’ve retired and started writing more, I find myself thinking about writing all the time. I write myself to sleep at night, working out just the right way to phrase a sentence. On my few excursions out of the house I’m thrilled if something out of the ordinary happens or I see something interesting…like the house on the corner of 11th and Hermiston Avenue. It has been painted pepto bismol pink, everything, the door the trim, one giant pepto pink house…what’s up with that? There’s got to be a story there. When I substituted at the high school last week a student asked me “Did you write about us in your blog?” I understand why Nancy Peacock kept writing. I feel the same way. I have to write.

What has been difficult lately has been actually getting the writing out of my head and into the computer. I had an ah-ha moment when I realized that I was reading all the books about writing to delay the actual process of writing. For me it was a new form of procrastination.

So today I am grateful for writing. It helps me process my thoughts and sometimes gives me insight. But most of all, I write because I like to. I write because I have to. I write because I am a writer.

A Good Day in Retirement

2010-10-05T16:10:00.000-07:00

I’ve had a hard time letting go of summer. Last night when I went out to the hot tub I felt the chill in the air and the stars shone brightly in the clear night sky. There was crispness in the air that isn’t there in the summer. Summer has gone.

I had put off getting my writing group back together. Summer is a time for travel, vacations and freedom. I wasn’t going to tie myself to commitments in the summer. But now, school is back in session, darkness falls earlier and earlier, and I’m wearing sweaters. I can’t deny it any longer; Summer has gone.

I sent emails out to the members of my small writing group and to bloggers I had “met” who live in the Hermiston area. We agreed to meet at a local used book store. This morning five of us got together to share our writing . Birgitta and Chris were in the group last spring. Chris had sent me emails during the summer asking when we were going to start meeting again. Birgitta read a short piece describing fall in Hermiston that she had written “to make my children homesick .” She’s been working on including humor in her writing and the group laughed out loud at several of her descriptions…auditory proof that she’d made growth

We met Milt and his wife Robin today for the first time. Milt is a blogger and a follower of my blog. This was my first experience meeting a virtual friend in person. Robin read a poem she had written and Milt read a piece that he had posted earlier in his blog. Milt’s writing was very self-revelatory and touching.

I read my recent piece about overcoming writer’s block and everyone laughed in all the right places.

We’ll be meeting the first and third Wednesday of every month at 10:30 at the used book store in Hermiston. Drop by if you’re in the area and bring your latest writing to read to us.

Today I had a great retirement day. The local coffee shop gave me a free beverage when I drove through…Cellular One picked up the tab today. I got to celebrate writing with people who, like me, struggle to find just the right word. I met face to face with a person I had met on the internet and he was not an ax murderer.

I guess I don’t feel so bad about summer being over. ..I’ve got writing group to look forward to. Life is good!

Remembering Edna

2010-09-30T14:43:00.000-07:00

June, over at Aging Gratefully wrote a beautiful post about pets and how they enrich our lives and the heartbreak of their loss. Like good writing often does, it got me to thinking about the animals who shared our family life. Thanks June for the memories!

My daughter was in elementary school when we bought her the Siamese cat she named Edna. Edna tolerated the rest of the family, but she was Sarah’s cat. She was Sarah’s playmate. Dressed in baby clothes and wrapped in a blanket, Sarah would push her around the house in a toy stroller. Her furry head covered in a white lace bonnet, Edna was content to be babied. Edna sat in Sarah’s lap when watching TV and slept on Sarah’s bed. When Sarah was upset, Edna listened to the litany of complaints about how unfair life was. Edna’s fur absorbed Sarah’s childhood tears. Edna showed her love to Sarah by leaving her gifts of dead mice in her shoes. Sarah learned to never put her feet into her shoes without first checking for surprises.

The years went by and Sarah spent her junior year of high school as an exchange student in Spain. This was before internet access was widely available. We communicated the old fashioned way, writing letters and an occasional expensive trans-Atlantic phone call. Edna started sleeping at the foot of my bed. I worried about a lot of things that year that my 15 year old daughter studied in Spain, and a big worry was that Edna, who was showing signs of age, would die and I would have to tell my daughter that her pet was dead. I couldn’t imagine telling her in a letter or over the phone and not be able to hold her while she sobbed.

Edna lived on. Sarah returned home for her senior year and Edna moved back to spending the night in Sarah’s room. A year later Sarah left again, this time to attend college. Once again I worried that Edna would die and Sarah wouldn’t have an opportunity to say goodbye. When Sarah came home for vacations, Edna immediately shifted her loyalties to her. For her four years in college, every time Sarah left home, she said goodbye to Edna as if she would never see her again.

But Edna lived on. She was a little slower and her days of mice catching were behind her. On her infrequent trips outside she usually went only as far as the first patch of sunlight on the deck. She wasn’t as active, but she was still a loving family member.

After college graduation Sarah lived at home for a year and Edna settled once again into Sarah’s room. Edna could no longer make the leap from the floor to the bed so Sarah arranged furniture so Edna could climb up on the bed.

And then Sarah went off to work on a small atoll in the Pacific. Her time off from work she spent traveling. She’d been to Hermiston; she wanted to see the rest of the world. She got engaged and we started long distance planning for a June wedding in Hawaii.

One morning we noticed that Edna was having trouble walking and then she couldn’t walk at all. The vet told us she had had a stroke. He treated her with steroids and we nursed her back from the edge…holding her upright so she could use the litter box and feeding her fancy canned food that she could easily eat. She regained the use of her legs and no longer needed our help with the litter box, but she never gave up the fancy cat food. I emailed Sarah daily with medical updates. Edna pulled through and went back to her routine of sleeping in the sunlight.

Sarah came home in the spring for a visit so we could shop for the wedding dress. She came in the door and immediately called for Edna. A week later Sarah was flying back to Johnston Island. Once again she said goodbye as if it was the last time she would see Edna. It was.

Two months later it was obvious that Edna’s health was failing. She was thin and moved awkwardly. It was painful for her when we picked her up. She started having trouble getting to the litter box. Her systems were failing. She had been a member of our family for more than 15 years. It was hard to let her go, but it was the right thing for her. My husband took her on her final journey to the vet and brought the cat carrier home empty. That weekend we flew to Hawaii for the wedding.

Before we left home I struggled with what we would tell Sarah. A friend advised me not to say anything. “What will it matter” he said “if in her mind the cat lives happily on another few weeks?” We didn't want to cast a shadow over the joy of the wedding.

We didn’t tell Sarah that her cat was dead and during the two weeks of wedding events and family vacation activities we managed to avoid all conversations about pets.

There just never seemed to be a good time to tell Sarah that Edna was gone and the weeks went by. Sarah and her new husband were still living and working on that island in the Pacific. Not long after the wedding their jobs ended and they were moving back to the mainland. We were driving to the airport to pick them up and we still hadn’t told Sarah.

There’s an old joke about a Dumb Guy telling a child about a death. The advice given to Dumb Guy is to break the news gradually. The first day the child is told that the cat is stuck in a tree. The next day the child is told that the firemen are trying to get the cat out of the tree but aren’t being successful. The third day the child is told that the cat is dead. Dumb Guy thinks this is pretty good advice and decides to use this strategy. Dumb Guy tells his child “Grandma’s stuck in a tree.”

It was too late to break the news gradually. We told her in the car driving home from the airport that Edna wasn’t there to greet her when she got home. We all agreed that Edna had a good life. We loved her and she loved us back. Although there is that ache of missing her, there are the memories of that special time in our lives when my children were small and Santa, the tooth fairy, and Edna all left surprises.

Tales of the Traveling Teapot

2010-09-27T19:43:00.000-07:00

I found the teapot above shoved in the bottom drawer of the dresser in my spare bedroom. My brother stayed with me last week when he passed through this area while riding in Cycle Oregon. Before we drove him back to the Cycle Oregon encampment in Pendleton, I had scanned the back bedroom to make sure he wasn’t leaving me any surprises. I didn’t mount a full-scale search…I underestimated his deviousness.

The teapot belonged to my mother. After her death my brothers and I cleaned out her house. I had heard horror stories from friends about families that were torn apart as siblings fought over dividing their inheritances. My brothers and I were fortunate that my mother had a will and we had a clear understanding of how her “estate” was to be divided. Together we worked to clean out her house. Most of the contents of her home were donated to a local charity. Any items that any of us wanted to keep were placed in a pile and we took turns choosing what we wanted. There wasn’t any bickering or fighting…we mostly chose things that had emotional significance to us not intrinsic value. One by one we chose the things that were most important to us. The copper pot that sat on the hearth of my childhood home now sits in front of my fireplace and a small painting that my mother bought at an art fair hangs on the wall next to the one I bought on the same day.

The grandchildren were given the opportunity to choose a keepsake. My daughter saved items from the china hutch that she had given her grandmother. When I last visited her house I saw that the paper flowers she had made when she visited her grandmother when she was 8 or 9 are now enthroned in her own china hutch. My son salvaged his grandmother’s college papers from the recycle pile and a tie-dyed T-shirt from one of her college events. The writings, that include a story about my brothers and me, now live in a suitcase under the bed in the spare bedroom. I don’t know that we will ever do anything with them, but I’m glad he saved them. He still wears the T-shirt. I don’t know what the other grandchildren chose, but the process gave them some closure.

Somehow the teapot got in my pile of stuff. My brother agreed to store a few items for me because I couldn’t carry everything in my suitcase when I flew home. We packed up several boxes to ship to my home in Oregon. I didn’t pack the teapot. I don’t remember it from my childhood. The running joke when we ran across something that we didn't want was to give it to the other sibling and say "Mom wanted you to have this." I told my brother that Mom definitely wanted him to have the teapot.

We scattered my mother’s ashes at the pier in Oceanside. We didn’t have a memorial service, but we did all go to her favorite restaurant. The grandchildren wore their grandmother’s huge sunglasses and everyone wore an assortment of buttons from her collection of lost causes.

I flew home and several weeks later the boxes arrived. I opened a box that I didn’t remember packing and found the teapot, several pairs of those huge sun glasses, a “Merry Christmas” button and numerous other items that I had tried to abandon at my brother’s house. My nephew had pounded in the side of the teapot to make it fit in the box.

Several months later I visited my brother and took the teapot with me. He found it before I left and hid it back in my luggage. Foiled again! It came home with me. The teapot has now made four trips back and forth from Oregon to California. We’re going there for Christmas this year and I’ll take it with me…and I won’t leave my luggage unattended.

My husband suggested that we don’t take it…and just drive my brother nuts thinking that he can’t find it. He’ll probably read this blog. I haven’t decided on my game plan yet. I’ve got a couple of months to work out the perfect hiding place.

As challenging as my relationship with my mother was, it is comforting that a silly tradition and good family memories have come out of her death. I'm sure she wanted Leigh to have the teapot.

Nana Approaches a Milestone With Oprah

2010-09-14T12:35:00.000-07:00

I've never worried about my age. At 40 I celebrated by skydiving...and I have a video to prove it. If anyone has a VHS player I'd be happy to show it to you. For my 50th I purchased a diamond ring with one stone for each decade...that I managed to lose at the Little Rock airport when it went flying off my hand because I was too cheap to resize it after I lost 100 pounds. So I have slender, more attractive fingers, but no birthday diamonds. Next month I will reach another benchmark...60! Although I've been anticipating this major milestone for a year, I have yet to settle on the appropriate way to celebrate.

How do I celebrate 60? I can't afford that many diamonds. Jumping out of a plane once was enough for me. How do I make the big six oh memorable? In retirement I do whatever I want everyday, so making one day special is a challenge. The past few weeks I've traveled to Austin to see the grandchildren, to San Diego to see my family, and to Alaska to see the glaciers.

When I first started to blog, I had a list of things that I thought about accomplishing in retirement, including maintaining a blog for several months. That one I can check off my list because I have regularly posted to my two blogs. I wanted to take a trip with the grandchildren and we have scheduled a trip to San Diego with all of my family for December.

The accomplishment that eludes me is seeing Oprah. I have been an Oprah groupie for almost 25 years. Readers of my blogs know that I'm fond of quoting what I've learned from faithfully watching her show. I read the books she recommends, well, most of them. I just couldn't get through A New Earth. If Costco carries a book she recommends, I'll probably buy it and at least try to get through it.

Now Oprah is in her final season and the clock is ticking to complete this goal. I check her website daily for the opportunity to apply for a ticket. Now that I am no longer working, I have the flexibility to get to Chicago whenever an opportunity presents itself, but so far the ticket window has not been open. Oprah frequently assures her viewers that the Universe is responsive. After watching the season opener, I can see that I'm not going to win a ticket by being her biggest fan. I like Oprah, but I haven't built a school in Africa after being moved by a segment on her show. I haven't fed the hungry or paid off any one's mortgage. But I did lose 100 pounds and I am a teacher, both reoccurring themes on Oprah's show. Well, I had lost 100 pounds but I just went on a cruise and I'm a little heavier now and I've retired...but I do substitute occasionally.

I'm waiting for the Universe and Oprah to respond, but I probably need a back-up plan. Got any good ideas for celebrating my 60th? It is a time to celebrate. I have much to be grateful for in my first 60 years. I have almost made it to three score and Oprah won't be on the air when I celebrate four score.

Nana Notices the Passage of Time

2010-09-01T20:58:00.000-07:00

I just returned home from California where I attended my cousin’s wedding. Actually, the groom, Chris, is my second cousin, the son of my cousin Martin. I hadn’t seen the groom since he was a little boy, or my cousin Martin for probably 25 years. I used to babysit Martin. When I first saw Chris, I thought he was my cousin. He looks so much like his father as I remembered him. So it was a surprise to see Martin with gray hair and a gray, neatly trimmed beard. He looked dapper in his tuxedo. In the words of another family member, “he fought his demons.” He found religion and changed his life around.

I also saw my Auntie Pam and Uncle Colin. When we immigrated to the US in 1955, my dad and Uncle Colin made the journey a month before my mother, brother, Auntie Pam and I did. We crossed the Atlantic on the lle de France and cleared customs in New York. Until we grew up and had families of our own, Auntie Pam and Uncle Colin were our only relatives. Everyone else was back in England and fifty plus years ago travel was not as accessible as it is today. Auntie Pam was much as I remembered her, but Uncle Colin is fighting medical problems and is stick thin and wobbly. I thought that this was perhaps the last time I would see him.

I had carried my memories of my family for so many years without seeing them that I was shocked to see how everyone had aged. Everyone was so old…still attractive, but so much older than I remembered them. I see my immediate family on a more regular basis and somehow the march of time escaped my notice.

We are an immigrant family success story. We came to the U.S. with very little but a willingness to work and contribute to our new homeland. We have thrived. The next generation was born in the U.S. and went on to college and careers. There have been individual challenges, and even some demons to slay, but all in all our family has had opportunities that would not have been available to us in England.

There is much to be grateful for, and seeing everyone at the wedding reminded me of our history and how much I take for granted. Time marches on and I haven’t made the time to celebrate with my family. They won’t always be there; I’m so grateful that I got the opportunity to see them again and touch my past.

School Shoes

2010-08-23T13:43:00.000-07:00

My spouse and I served two years in the Peace Corps in Nicaragua. In so many ways that experience has impacted how we live our lives today. We went to Nicaragua as a twenty something married couple and we came home a family, forever changed by our experiences. Our daughter, Sarah, was born while we were there.

We lived in a dusty little town in the north, El Jicaro. The spouse worked for El Banco National de Nicaragua and I taught English at the local middle school. Our first week in our new home we met Pedro, a skinny, barefoot kid who lived across the road. He and his even smaller, skinnier little brother hung around our house hoping to do chores and earn some money. We usually had something for Pedro to do. He knew where to buy the best tortillas, or when a cow would be slaughtered, or who had fresh eggs for sale. Soon his mother was doing our laundry and Pedro was our regular errand boy. One day we asked him what he was going to do with his money.

"I'm saving up to buy rolters" he told us.

We frantically searched through our Spanish-English dictionary for "rolter."

"What are rolters?" we asked him.

"They are the best," he said "the best shoes. I want shoes for school."

Several weeks later he showed up at our door with a big grin, wearing his usual short pants with the ragged hem and a thread-bare T-shirt, but this time his outfit was accessorized with new shiny black leather-like oxfords.

"Look," he said "look at my Rolters."

We complemented him excessively on his Rolters. We had never seen a finer pair of shoes, we told him. From then on we rarely saw Pedro without his Rolters. They were his first ever pair of shoes.

I was reminded of Pedro this week when I took my granddaughter to buy shoes. We went from store to store fighting the crowds of back-to-school shoppers until we found shoes that were the perfect fit. She wore them out of the store, a big grin on her face, dancing happily. They are her first ever pair of school shoes; she starts kindergarten tomorrow.

I remembered Pedro and his Rolters and am grateful that my granddaughter will be wearing new shoes to kindergarten. It's a big step for a little girl.

The pink Chuck Taylors were too big!

But the black strappy ones were just right!

Five!

2010-08-16T10:08:00.000-07:00

Today my granddaughter turns five. Five! It seems like just yesterday we were changing diapers and rocking her to sleep. She is my first grandchild. I became Nana when she was born. I thought that nothing could compare to the love I felt for my two children...and then Megan was born and my heart expanded once again.

Being Megan's Nana transformed my life. My vacations shifted from exotic locations to Arkansas and Texas. (Actually, for a liberal Oregonian, those states provided plenty of cross-cultural experiences.) I lived in Oregon, Megan in Arkansas and then Texas. I managed to visit her every couple of months. But, she was in my thoughts constantly. I over-compensated by shopping for her. I was a regular at Baby Depot, Baby Gap, and any retailer who had a baby department. I moved from the mystery/thriller section of Barnes and Noble to kid lit. When I visited I read to her from her extensive library and dressed her in all those cute little outfits that I had sent her.

Megan introduced me to the new generation of cartoons. (Please don't stone me. Yes, she watches cartoons) I never would have learned the words to the Wonder Pets theme song if I wasn't Megan's Nana.

Megan is five today! In a few weeks she will start school. As much as I want her to be educated, I'm not ready for her to be in school. School means that I no longer have 24-7 access to her when I visit. Her world is expanding and I hate to admit that I'm not ready. I haven't had enough of the little girl whose family, including her Nana, was the center of her world. I'd like to rock her for a little longer, and go on 'ventures during school hours, and sing "Wonder Pets, Wonder Pets we're on our way to help a baby animal and save the day!" I'm not ready to move on.

I went shopping for things for Megan's birthday package. This time I looked for school clothes. She's growing up. She has outgrown the baby departments. I miss those little frilly dresses, but thank goodness Macy's has a selection of bedazzled, Hello Kitty fashions. Nana is learning to move on.

The future is bright for Megan. We have much to look forward to. But when she walks off to school, my arms will still be aching to rock the baby that made me Nana.

Happy birthday Meggie. Nana loves you.

2010-08-11T12:45:00.000-07:00

The fly population has exploded in Hermiston this past week. It can mean only one thing, it is fair week in Umatilla County. It's a big event in a little town. There was a parade last Saturday that shut down all major roads including Hwy 395 for over an hour. Our fairgrounds are located in the center of town, right next to the post office, police and fire departments and the high school. Anyone trying to use any of these facilities is hard pressed to find parking within a half a mile.

For the Lions Club, the fair is our major fund raising activity. For years the Lions have had a food booth that sells burgers, fries, corn dogs, and breakfast wraps. You can recognize a Hermiston Lion by the grease burns; we all have them.

Today there is a light drizzle and the temperature has dropped considerably. We are used to working in the booth in 100 degree temperatures...we usually sell a lot of drinks. We'll be more comfortable in the booth today, but our profits will probably be down as many people will wait for clear weather to come to the fair and those who do come won't be as thirsty.

The Lions built the food booth at the fairgrounds years and years ago. We limp along with our original equipment, struggling to keep our grill cooking for another year. This year we store huge chunks of ice in our commercial size refrigerator to help keep the temperature at safe levels. We all were relieved when we passed the Health Department inspection. We resist putting money into equipment for the booth because it reduces what we have available for community services.

Proceeds from our fair booth go directly into our club budget for community services. I am the chair for the Hermiston Lions Sight and Hearing. We provide assistance to low income residents with vision problems. We help pay for eye exams and glasses and sight saving surgeries. Several months ago we ran out of money. The downturn in our economy has hit our rural area hard. We've had a dramatic increase in the number of applications for assistance with eye glasses. We now have a list of qualified people waiting for us to have funds to assist them in purchasing glasses. Making money at the fair is even more important this year because of the number of people who are counting on us to help them.

Although toiling in the grease and heat of our booth at the fair is unpleasant, we all know that we are working for an important cause. At some point during fair week just about everyone in town will make a visit to the fair. It is a summer tradition to come to the fair and catch up with everyone that you haven't seen since the previous year. It is common knowledge that any fried food consumed at the fair, and there is a wide selection to choose from, does not count in your cholesterol total for the week.

Fair gives us a glimpse of America in a simpler time...neighbors showing off the bounty from their gardens, children running wild among the displays and carnival rides, and service clubs raising money to support their projects. Amid the heat and grease, life really is good.

Gleaning the Highways of Oregon

2010-07-31T23:57:00.000-07:00

Last month I wrote about the spouse and his uncanny ability to find items of questionable value along the roadway. We just got home from a 600 mile trip where I got to experience first-hand the excitement and satisfaction of freeway gleaning. Click here to read the earlier post.

The spouse and I drove from Hermiston to Lincoln City. On the trip down to the coast Paul pointed out items of interest that he spotted as we drove down the freeway. He seemed to think that I should be responsible for the right hand side of the roadway. Once you start looking, it is surprising how many cooler lids and hubcaps you can see. I am not, however, a very good spotter. I am easily distracted by more interesting sights...well, actually by almost anything.

On the trip back to Hermiston I mentioned to the spouse that he needed to actually find a hubcap and pick it up so I could get a picture of him for the blog. No sooner were the words out of my mouth, he jammed on the brakes.

"There's one" he shrieked.

He pulled the pickup over to the side of the road and jumped out of the cab.

"Hold it up so I can take a picture" I yelled at him, "...and don't get hit by a car."

The picture at the top of the page is a hubcap in its natural state at the side of the road...and below is the spouse in action.

Several years ago we went to the Crater of Diamonds State Park in Arkansas. The spouse didn't find even one tiny diamond. I guess his powers are strictly limited to highways. Darn!

We had a fun trip and are richer by one hubcap. Life is good.

Lessons Learned From Parents and Their Children

2010-07-23T22:28:00.000-07:00

Several weeks ago I read about Bloggers Unite. It's a website that is attempting to harness the power of the blogosphere to make the world a better place by asking member bloggers to write about a particular subject on the same day. I like the idea of millions of voices in the blogosphere united to make a difference. This is my first effort.

For several years I served as Director of Special Education for a large, rural Eastern Oregon school district. I started a parent support group so I could get to know the parents of the children we served and hear about their concerns for their children's educations. I really thought that the parent group would be a bitch fest for parents who were unhappy with the school district. As an administrator I saw the group as a way to get in front of the problems and address parental concerns before they got out of hand.

Regular readers of my other blog know that I have written before of how the universe has a way of presenting us with lessons that we need to learn. Little did I know that the parent group was an opportunity for me to grow in my understanding of people with disabilities.

Special education is a challenging field. There are so many rules and regulations that guide what has to be done, and what can't be done, and what should be done. And, a lot of the stress in the job boils down to money. Although the federal government doesn't provide sufficient resources, federal law requires that appropriate services are provided free of charge. There is a tension between the parents and the schools...one group wants resources that the other holds, the other wants to make sure that the resources get to everyone who needs them. The law sees no limit on resources, but in the trenches the reality is that the resources are not unlimited. Every dollar that is spent is a dollar that isn't available to other kids.

So, as director I was immersed in managing the budget and making it stretch. Every day I worried about having sufficient funding to meet all of the real and perceived needs. I lost sight of the human side of my job. The parent group dragged me right back into that reality. The parents shared their hopes and dreams for their children in our meetings. They shared their frustrations and challenges. They learned from each other. And I was provided a window into life with a severely disabled child and I learned empathy.

I am grateful for the lesson that I learned working with special education students and their parents.

Gratitude

2010-07-18T11:22:00.000-07:00

This past week I’ve gained several followers on this blog. I'm always surprised and delighted when someone new finds this blog and likes it enough to follow. I've "promoted" my other blog. It's the link that I drop when I leave a comment on other blogs. I've been more low key with this blog, so those of you who have found me are even more treasured.

Thank you to each of you who has taken the time to read my writing and to make comments. I have enjoyed the opportunity to get to know several of you by reading your blogs. I have enjoyed finding others who share my point of view, or worry about the same stuff, or provide some encouragement to keep writing. I am inspired and frequently awed reading your blogs.

Several of my followers are retired or planning to retire in the very near future. I’ve discovered that I’m not the only one who has had a difficult time adjusting to my changed status.

I’ve particularly enjoyed reading the comments and blogs from across the pond. I was born in England and immigrated to the US when I was four and a half. I still have relatives in England. I feel a connection to my motherland. English English, as opposed to American English, sounds right to my ears. The language is the same, but different.

When I was a kid my mother expected us to clean our plates. "Think about those starving children in China," she'd say to us when we wouldn't eat some particularly horrid food item (usually an olde English recipe like steak and kidney pie.) "They would love to have a nice meal like this." It was hard to be grateful then, and sometimes it is hard now.

Thanks for joining me in my journey to recognize and celebrate the many blessings I have received. I am grateful for your participation in my journey.

Jann

North to Alaska

2010-07-10T14:54:00.000-07:00

Summer goes by much too fast. There are so many opportunities in the summer that it is hard for me to schedule anything because I am afraid that I'll miss something. So I wind up not scheduling and then rushing around at the last minute, and paying a premium price for tickets, or not doing anything. Today I got brave and scheduled more than a month in advance. We're going on a cruise to Alaska in early September. When everyone in Hermiston goes back to school, I will be enjoying a chocolate fountain and all you can eat buffets....um, I mean beautiful Alaskan scenery.

We took this same cruise after I retired. Alaska is beautiful, but it was cold even in July. I expect it will be even colder in September. The nice thing about a cruise is that you can stay inside in a warm comfortable lounge area and be served tea and pastries while watching the scenery glide by. You can do as much or as little as you like. We napped, and read, and ate, and watched movies, and ate, and went on shore and ate, and attended cooking demonstrations and ate, and watched movies and ate. Because we were disconnected from our regular lives, no cell phones or computers by choice, we had no responsibilities and no time schedule. Even though I no longer work, there are still things that have to be done at home...like laundry and cooking dinner and occasionally vacuuming up the big chunks on the floor. I'm looking forward to a whole week with no responsibilities...but I will be nervous for the next two months about something else coming up that will conflict with our cruise dates.

Prices for cruises in September are very low, although not as low as what is advertised on the internet. I think there's a little bait and switch going on. The rates quoted online were not available when I called both Vacations to Go and the cruise line. They had sold out of the teacher rate and the promotion rate...of course the rooms with balconies were still available. I learned a lesson when I made our reservation. I gave in and opted to pay a higher rate for a guaranteed ocean view. After the sales person had taken all the information I asked if there were any additional discounts available, like for teachers or seniors. She gave me an additional $50. per person discount. I will never book again without asking for additional discounts! Although the total cost was still $200. more than what was listed as the cheapest rate in the promotion online, we'll have at least a porthole view of the ocean.

Life is good.

Bag of Crap

2010-07-02T13:27:00.000-07:00

My Woot! bag of crap, also know as a BOC, was delivered today. You can read my post about my quest to secure a BOC over on my other blog here. Today's mystery package was pretty much what was advertised...crap! The little box cost $3.00 plus $5.00 shipping for a total of $8.00. The value is not in the actual items that I received, but in the fun I had anticipating the box. I've been watching the Woot! forum closely to see what other people have received. Many got electronics such as DVRs. And a lot of people got things just like mine:

3 Justin & Dave's Would You Rather desktop calendars for 2010
1 Disney Pirates of the Caribbean accesory pouch
1 ATI TV tuner card for computer (no directions or software)
2 High School Musical alarm clocks

I think I'll see if I can figure out how to install the TV tuner in the computer in the back bedroom, but other than that, the rest of the stuff isn't very useful.

I'm reminding myself that it is the journey not the destination that is important. It's the fun of participating with 2, 997 other people in guessing what might be in our packages. Now that Santa has left the presents, I'm feeling that Christmas letdown...and there's not much to play with.

Oh, sorry, I forgot...I'm grateful, really grateful!

Harvesting Freeway Bounty

2010-06-30T02:27:00.000-07:00

My husband was so excited when he came home from work this evening. “Guess what.” He asks me.

I don’t have a clue.

“You’ll never guess what I found.” He says.

He’s wrong, I have an idea. My husband is a freeway scrounger. He’s always on the lookout for interesting items on the side of the road. One of his schemes is to sell hubcaps on e-Bay. He thinks he could make a fortune!

“If you found a cooler,” I tell him “it doesn’t count unless you also have the lid.”

“I have the lid!” he exclaims and describes in detail how he first saw the blue cooler on the side of the freeway but hadn’t made the decision to pull over and pick it up until, and here he practically chortles with excitement, “there was the lid on the other side of the freeway!” So he slammed on the brakes and backed up to get the cooler and then crosses to the other side of the freeway to recover its lid.

He insisted I come outside to admire the big blue cooler in the back of his pickup.

“There’s no lid” I say.

“Oh wait” he says as he opens the pickup door and pulls out a white cooler top. “I have proof that this is a freeway find.” And he points to skid marks on the lid where it bounced on the pavement.

“And look at this” he declares as he pulls yet another hubcap from the back of the pickup.

I can drive for miles and miles and never see anything interesting, except road kill and those bottles of pee that truckers toss along the side of the road. This is Paul’s second cooler this month. He also found a small red cooler, with lid, that he’s now using to keep his snacks cold when he goes fishing.

I count my blessings. I have a husband with eagle eyes and plenty of coolers. If I ever lose a hubcap, there’s a good chance he’ll have one to spare.

Life is good.

Open to the Good

2010-06-26T00:47:00.000-07:00

Over on my other blog last week, I posted about trivial irritations. (Click here to read the post.) Once I started focusing on the things that irritated me it was difficult to stop. I was wallowing in irritation.

Then I remembered the quote posted over there on the right:

"What you focus on expands, and when you focus on the goodness in your life, you create more of it. Opportunities, relationships, even money flowed my way when I learned to be grateful no matter what happened in my life." – Oprah

It’s time to make another list of all of the things that make me happy. In no particular order…

My grandchildren
The smell of fresh cut grass
The wop wop wop brrrrrrrr of rainbird sprinklers
Quail in the back yard
Summer
Swimming pools
Freshly pedicured toenails in pink
New followers on my blogs
Comments on my blog posts
Scoring a Bag of Crap on Woot!
Sees Candy, especially butterscotch squares
Heated leather seats
Rain hitting the window when I’m in bed
Corn on the cob
Hearing from old friends
Dexter…yeah, it’s dark, but it’s soooo good!
Road trips with a good audio book
Road trips with rock and roll
Road trips with Broadway musicals
Live music
A pension that is above US median income…I get paid to not work!!!
New cute shoes
Lunch out with friends
Never using an alarm clock
My hot tub
A good book
Huge white puffy clouds on a bright blue sky
A full moon
Diet coke
Tulips
The smell of babies
Warm breezes…not wind, gentle warm air washing over me
A good haircut
A healthy family
Finding just the right word when I’m writing
Good dance music
A comfortable chair
Down pillows and a down comforter
A reliable car
Good credit
Compliments
Tivo
Watching the ocean
A fire in the fireplace
My dishwasher…how did I ever live without one in the olden days?
Slurpees

Throughout the day I expect that I will think of other things that I should have listed. I had to fight the demons a few times while writing the list…a few irritations popped into my head. I drove them out with gratitude. I know the more I focus on what is good in my life, the more I am open to receive it.

Megan's Crying Rules

2010-06-18T22:45:00.000-07:00

Today Megan, my four year old granddaughter, gave me her rules for when it is appropriate to cry.

It is okay to cry when:

you have a boo boo
you miss someone
blood is pouring out of you
your house is on fire

It should be noted that she doesn't always follow her own rules...crying, for example, when she can't find her shoes or the popsicle is the wrong color. I wish her life would always be so simple. At four she knows nothing about broken hearts or broken dreams.

I am so grateful for the time I get to share with my grandchildren. I want to be there to kiss the boo boos, staunch the flow of blood, and throw water on the fire. I understand wanting to cry when you miss someone. I wish I could always be there for her.

They Hatch and Grow Up So Quickly

2010-06-11T15:15:00.000-07:00

Last week I wrote about finding a quail’s nest in the bushes outside our bedroom window. We were afraid that we had scared off the mother with our vigorous weed pulling. There were over a dozen tiny eggs in the nest. The mother returned and has been faithfully tending the nest. I checked for information on the internet about the gestation period for quail and found out that it is 24-27 days. Not knowing how long the nest had been there before we found it makes it hard to estimate when we can expect the eggs to hatch.

On Tuesday as I drove down our driveway I spotted a covey of quail under the bushes in the border around the lawn. There were two adults and a lot of tiny cotton ball sized quail running for cover. I was excited to see the little ones, but a little disappointed that I had missed the hatch. I went to check on the nest and was surprised to find the mother quail still sitting on her stash of eggs.

I just checked the nest again a few minutes ago and our mother quail is patiently tending her eggs. I, on the other hand, am anxious to see the babies hatch. It is exciting to see our yard teeming with quail
.
Three years ago I was similarly impatient for a birth. My daughter was expecting her second child. My second granddaughter was born on June 19th. I’m going to Texas next week for her third birthday party.

I hope the quail hatch before I leave. Just like grandchildren, they grow up so quickly. I don’t want to miss those early days of their lives.

Life is good.

People Marry the Person They Love

2010-06-06T21:07:00.000-07:00

I have been married to a Republican for almost forty years. I’m not quite sure how that happened. My liberal roots are firmly planted. I grew up in the 50’s and 60’s and witnessed the turmoil of the civil rights movement through the pages of Life magazine and the nightly news. My family boycotted grapes in support of Cesar Chavez and the farm workers. They voted for Kennedy and Johnson, and didn’t vote for Nixon either for governor of California nor president. I left California to attend college in rural Eastern Oregon in the late 60’s. I was already against the war in Vietnam.

I met my husband in college. He had long hair and wore huarache sandals. He was against the war too. He had a relatively low draft number. When he got his induction notice he was found to be 4-F. After college we entered the Peace Corps. I’m not sure when he became a Republican. I remember him voting for Jimmy Carter, but he says he’s always been a Republican and that was the only time he voted for a Democrat. Most years we cancel out each other’s votes.

On the issues, however, we are more likely to agree than disagree. We both trust women to make decisions about their own bodies. We support stem cell research. And, we believe equality extends to the right to marry for everyone, regardless of sexual orientation.

My granddaughters, two and four, are the products of a mixed marriage. Their mother, my daughter, is a Democrat and her husband is a Republican. Their children will, I’m sure, be Democrats…if Nana has anything to do with it!

I’ve already taken them on educational field trips to Democratic shrines including the Clinton Presidential Library and the Johnson Presidential Library. When they are older we will go to the Smithsonian and see the Woolworth’s lunch counter or to the Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis and I will tell them the stories of the fight for equality. I will show them pictures of their grandfather with shoulder length hair at the Vortex Festival It’s not a proud moment in our personal history. We went there rather than protest the war at the American Legion Convention in Portland, Oregon in 1970.

I visited the grandchildren last month. I had taken them to the Goodwill to purchase things for their dress-up box. They both bought wedding dresses. At home they dressed up in their finery and had a tea party. Hunter, the two year old, stated that she was going to marry her sister.

“No, silly” said Megan “Girls marry boys.”

“Some girls marry girls” said their mother.

“No” insisted Megan “Girls marry boys.”

“No,” said their mother “Girls can marry girls and boys can marry boys. People marry the person they love.”

We didn’t get into the discussion about why marrying your sister wasn’t appropriate.

We liberals have a responsibility to teach our children well. I’m grateful to the people who have led the fight for equality. In my lifetime we have made great strides in many areas. Now is the time for all of us to support the fight for marriage equity. Everyone should have the right to marry the person they love.

I'm entering this post in a contest Blog 4Equality to win a scholarship to attend Netroots Nation sponsored by Freedom To Marry Click the link for more information.

Little Gifts

2010-05-30T13:02:00.000-07:00

We stayed home this memorial weekend. When you’re retired it doesn’t make sense to leave home when the rest of the population is traveling. It’s difficult to be a recluse when on the road with millions of people.

Yesterday we did yard work. Like adventurers slicing our way through the jungle, we pulled the weeds and overgrown branches from the flower bed that is just outside our bedroom window. While we were pulling and chopping the birds made loud comments from the brush where the lawn falls off to the river below. We discovered a small nest under a bush with more than a dozen tiny eggs. The mother was gone, but we were pretty sure that she was the one making such a racket in the bushes at the edge of the lawn. We made a canopy over the nest with the branches that we had cut and moved on to another project. My husband commented that since we had disturbed the nest, the quail would probably abandon it.

This morning I could hear quail babbling in the backyard and I wondered if the mother had returned to the nest. I found her all fluffed up over her eggs. As I moved my finger to take her photo, she flew away. I snapped a quick picture of the eggs and retreated to the house. I won’t be disturbing her nest again. It will be so good to have little ones around the house again!

Life is good.

Sarah Can Hear Again

2010-05-23T18:22:00.000-07:00

I am a member of the Hermiston Lions. In fact, I am the chair of the Sight and Hearing Committee. The Lions focus in community service is sight and hearing. The majority of the money our club raises goes to community members who need assistance in paying for eyeglasses or hearing aids. With the down turn in the economy we have had an increase in applications for assistance. Just this past week we exhausted our budget for financial assistance until we raise additional funds.

Last week I listened to my answering machine and found a message from a 70+ year old woman, Sarah, who had applied for assistance from the Lion’s Foundation to get hearing aids. The foundation refurbishes donated hearing aids and provides them free-of-charge to candidates who have been referred by a local Lions Club. The local club provides funding for the applicant to get hearing testing and fitting of the aids.

Sarah said “Thank you, thank you so much. I can hear again. Thank you for once again allowing me to be who I am. I can hear again. Thank you.”

I could hear the tears in her voice.

There are some frustrations in administering a charitable fund. I’ve had applicants argue with me because they wanted more money than our club allows. Some applications contain untruthful information. People get angry if we can’t fund their application or if they don’t meet the guidelines for eligibility. I rarely hear back from the people we have helped.

Sarah was an exception. Her message made my day and reminded me that one small action can change a life. I am grateful for the opportunity to help.

Eastern Oregon Afternoon Storm

2010-05-17T23:24:00.000-07:00

There was a weather alert this afternoon about 5:00 that warned of severe thunderstorms and hail. We moved the cars into the garage and shop and got everything under cover. Off to the west we could see a wall of black clouds moving toward us. Within minutes the rain was pouring down, and just as quickly it was over. The main part of the storm had missed us and we avoided the "hail the size of quarters" that fell in neighboring communities. As the storm moved on the black clouds became a backdrop in the eastern sky to a rainbow. Golden light illuminated the backyard. It was a moment of natural beauty... it's easy to be grateful when the storm passes and there's a rainbow!

Spring Silences

2010-05-14T00:37:00.000-07:00

Our weather is finally turning. Spring is a beautiful time in eastern Oregon, but in Hermiston we get fierce spring winds. Today brought bright sun, vivid blue skies and no wind. I love a hot day with just enough breeze to keep the bugs off. I ride my bike down the lane to the mailbox and revel in the warm wind floating over my body.

The neighborhood is quiet this time of year. Kids are still in school and their parents are at work. It’s only us retired people puttering around the neighborhood. On my bike I can sneak by the quail and pheasants without disturbing their routine. The neighborhood is serene and I can hear the birds, mostly the annoying magpies, twittering in the trees. The sun is on my back and the balmy breeze washes over me as I pedal around my kingdom. It doesn’t get much better than this.

Life is good.

Two-Year Anniversary

2010-05-10T21:55:00.000-07:00

Today we celebrated the two year anniversary since my husband’s heart attack. We had a dinner of heart healthy salmon. A heart attack is a big wake up call. It makes you stop and pay attention. My husband was one of those people who never needed to visit a doctor. Other than an occasional cold, he was never ill. He was physically active and weighed the same that he did in high school. He was probably still wearing some of the same clothes! He was about to turn 60 years old and he smoked.

Late morning the day of the heart attack Paul loaded up his boat and headed off to fish in the Columbia River, a short two miles from our house. Alone in the boat on the river, he started to feel ill. He thought he had indigestion and he drank a soda to settle his stomach. When he didn’t feel any better, he headed back to shore and loaded up the boat to drive home. Two blocks from the boat ramp he blacked out behind the wheel of the pickup and drove into a utility pole. He knocked out power to an apartment complex and the loud bang brought a crowd of people to his assistance. Someone called 9-1-1 and a bystander found his cell phone and called me.

I could hear the sirens in the background of the phone call. The caller told me he had been in an accident but was conscious, was dripping with sweat, and was being taken to the local hospital.

I found out the details later. The police were the first official responders and they thought he had been drinking. The police officer kept asking him “How much have you had to drink?” and not accepting that he had not been drinking. There were two unopened bottles of beer in his cooler, along with another can of soda and bottled water.

When the paramedics arrived at the scene they knew right away that it was a heart attack. They wasted no time in getting him to the hospital. I beat them to the hospital by a few minutes. His EKG was transmitted to a cardiologist at the regional trauma center. He received the miracle clot busting drug and was loaded back on the ambulance for the 30 minute drive to the regional center. The ambulance driver told me to meet them at the hospital but not to try and keep up with them. “We’ll be driving with lights,” he told me. It was only much later that I realized he meant the flashing ambulance lights.

I got to the second hospital as they were running with him on a gurney down the hall to the operating room. The surgeon stopped at the door to the operating room and told us to say our good-bys.

Paul received two stents. He was conscious during the procedure and told me later that it was immediate relief when the blockage was finally cleared. The pain stopped immediately.

It seems strange to say, but the best thing that happened to him that day was that he ran into a utility pole. If he had stayed out on the river, he might not have made it to shore alive. If he had driven home he would have crawled into bed to take a nap and I would have found him dead. Hitting the pole assured that got the professional attention that he needed to live. The paramedics immediately recognized the signs of a heart attack and got him where he needed to be. Although it was late afternoon on a Saturday, the cardiologist happened to be in the hospital when the call from our local hospital came in. He stayed and waited for the ambulance to arrive. They got to the operating room within the golden hour.

We have much to be grateful for. Two years later Paul has made a complete recovery. He quit smoking and has made significant changes to his diet. We rarely eat red meat anymore. He’s not as good as he should be about exercising, but we definitely are living a healthier lifestyle.

We have much to be grateful for, but time tends to dull the memories and we forget some of those lessons that were learned the hard way. It’s good to celebrate these anniversaries and remember how close we came to a different ending.

Life is good and we are grateful.

The Story Where Everyone Hates Nana

2010-05-04T21:31:00.000-07:00

I’ve written frequently in my blog about my granddaughters. Being their Nana is one of the joys of my life. I’ve written about the cute things that they say and our adventures when I visit them in Austin, Texas. I just returned from my latest visit where I attended the wedding of my son-in-law’s sister.

The granddaughters were the flower girls in their aunt’s wedding. They had beautiful dresses and wreaths of flowers in their long blond hair. They were picture perfect. They each carried a basket of petals down the long aisle and only remembered to throw them when they reached the alter.

My job at the wedding was flower girl wrangler. I managed to get them bathed and to the church on time and keep them clean and out of the baptismal font before the start of the ceremony. (Although later we wondered if we should have let Hunter take a dip to drive the demons out.) From my seat in the fourth row I watched them walk slowly down the aisle and whispered to them as they passed me “Throw the flowers, throw the flowers!”

At the reception they roamed with a small pack of children and I watched to make sure they didn’t get too wild. We enjoyed the buffet and they managed to finish the meal, complete with beverage, without a spill. They had been remarkably well-behaved throughout the event, but we knew not to push our luck. We had decided to take the children home after dinner, and after a long exciting day, get them to bed at their regular bedtime. Nana would stay with the kids and their parents could enjoy the drinks and dancing at the reception with their friends and family.

Implementation of the plan was going just fine until the girls realized that Mommy wasn’t with us in the car. Daddy, who hadn’t made even one visit to the open bar so he could drive us home, was in the driver’s seat, but Nana was sitting in Mommy’ s place. As we left the parking lot the wails started.

“I want my mommy!”

“I want my mom…mom….mom…eeeee!”

Calm explanations by Daddy and Nana were having no effect. It was obviously all Nana’s fault that Mommy was absent. Soon a new chant filled the car.

“I hate Nana.”

I hate Nana; I want my mom…mom…eeee.”

Two high pitched, wailing voices chanted the whole way home, “I hate Nannn……nnnnnna!”

At the house Hunter threw herself on the floor screaming for her mother. Picture a red-faced cherub in a pool of ivory organza with tears streaming down her face. Her sister kept up the chorus wailing “I hate Nana.”

I told my son in law to go. “They’ll be fine.” I said “They’re just tired.” And I crossed my fingers that it was true.

With one uncertain look back at me he left. Two minutes later I turned on a video of Cinderella, changed them into jammies, and fed them a snack. The wailing ceased and they snuggled with me on the couch to watch the movie. I called their parents to report that all was fine.

At 8:30 we were snug in bed reading bedtime stories. Hunter dozed off before we finished the second book. As I cuddled with Megan she said “I love you Nana.” And I resisted the urge to tell her “That’s not what you said earlier!”

That’s the thing about family. We aren’t always kind, but in the end we really do love each other.

I'm grateful for family...even the ones who hate me!

Good Reading, Good Writing

2010-04-29T20:38:00.000-07:00

I attended a reading by my favorite author, David Sedaris, on Tuesday night. This is the second year that my daughter and I have heard him read in Austin, Texas. We’ve already made plans to attend again next year. It was such an enjoyable evening. He read several selections that were familiar from his books, but he also gave us a preview of his new book which will be published next October.

I especially enjoyed when he read selections from his diary. It gave me a glimpse into where he gets his inspiration for his writing. His ability to see the humor in everyday situations is a gift.

At last year’s performance he read an unfinished piece about airline travel. This year he read the completed story. I will never pass gas on the move again without thinking about “crop dusting.”

The following is a snippet from my favorite Sedaris book. Every time I read it I laugh out loud.

On my fifth trip to France I limited myself to the words and phrases that people actually use. From the dog owners I learned "Lie down," "Shut up," and "Who shit on this carpet?" The couple across the road taught me to ask questions correctly, and the grocer taught me to count. Things began to come together, and I went from speaking like an evil baby to speaking like a hillbilly. "Is thems the thoughts of cows?" I'd ask the butcher, pointing to the calves' brains displayed in the front window. "I want me some lamb chop with handles on 'em."

— David Sedaris (Me Talk Pretty One Day)

He signed my copy of Me Talk Pretty One Day on Tuesday.

Good writing, good reading…damn life is good!

Dancing for Miles and Miles

2010-04-17T00:43:00.000-07:00

My hero, Oprah, is on a campaign to stop people from texting and using a cell phone while driving. I have yet to figure out how the bluetooth works in my five-year-old car and I only know how to text one person, my friend Shawn. Use of technology while driving isn't going to be a hard habit for me to break. I'm hoping that Oprah won't get any more ideas for safe driving that would be more difficult for me to comply with.

Living in Eastern Oregon we're used to wide open spaces and nearly empty highways. I grew up in Southern California and learned to drive in grid-lock. I know how to dart in and out of traffic. In Eastern Oregon we do a lot of driving on long straight nearly empty highways. It can be tricky in the winter when we have ice and snow, but most months we're driving in a straight line at speeds never seen in Southern California.

Today I drove north to Tri-Cities, Washington to do some shopping. I was listening to NPR and found myself singing along with a snappy gospel song. I'm not a regular church goer and gospel is not my usual musical genre, but it was a catchy tune and I couldn't resist. I flipped the channel to a classic rock station and listened to "Beat It." I couldn't help myself...I was singing and car dancing. When they played Neil Young's "Rockin in the Free World," I turned the radio way up and sang along. I love those long stretches of open highway, good tunes, and no audience,

I hope Oprah doesn't get anymore safe driving ideas. There's no way I want to give up car dancing and belting out show tunes. I'm grateful for music. Life is good.

Lions Roar for Easter - Only the Good Friday

2010-04-09T02:19:00.000-07:00

I've been participating in the "Only the Good Friday" meme that was started at http://thiseclecticlife.com/only-the-good-friday
Below is my weekly contribution to the optimism virus sweeping the blogosphere.

The Hermiston Lion's Club held an Easter egg hunt last weekend. For the past eight years the Lions have invited special needs children to hunt eggs in a local park. I have been a Lion for three years and the Easter egg hunt is my favorite activity.

The kids are greeted by students dressed as Peter Rabbit, Thumper, and, of course, a lion. The children each have their pictures taken with Peter. High school students volunteer to wear the costumes and they do a great job of encouraging the children to participate. They patiently help the kids to adjust to the unfamiliar giant plush animals.

The Lions "hide" hundreds of eggs across the lawn and the kids find all of them in just a few minutes. This hunt is designed for special needs students. There are a limited number of participants and lots of eggs. Even the child who needs to flap his arms and turn in circles three times before starting to hunt is assured of securing eggs before they are all claimed by other participants.

One of our members brings a llama and an alpaca for the children to pet. The kids all marvel over how soft the animals are. They take turns feeding them and giggle as the alpaca's lips sweep across their palms seeking the offered feed.

It was a cold and windy spring morning in the park, but my heart was warmed watching the smiles on the children's faces.

I am grateful for community organizations like the Lion's who make our communities good places to live.

Role Models

2010-04-05T20:03:00.000-07:00

When my daughter was 7 or 8 she told me that she wanted to be a journalist "like Oprah or Connie Chung." At the time I remember thinking how remarkable it was that this blond, blue eyed child had Chinese-American and African-American role models. Her generation was fortunate to have strong female role models from many different ethnic and racial groups. Although my daughter didn't grow up to be a journalist, she's a chemist, those role models helped her become the accomplished woman that she is today. She grew up knowing it was okay to be smart and that girls could be good at math and science. Now she has two daughters of her own.

My granddaughters at 2 and 4 have yet to express any preferences for their future careers. However, Hunter, the 2 year old, is convinced that she is a princess. She insists on wearing "princess dresses" everyday. Knowing how important it is that girls have self-esteem and are supported for their talents as well as their appearance, we are always quick to provide positive reinforcement to Hunter when she says "I bootiful."

We respond "Yes, you are beautiful and smart too!"

To which she replies "No, I bootiful. I not 'telligent, I bootiful."

"Yes, Hunter. You are both intelligent and beautiful."

Where's an intellectual princess role model when you need one?

I am grateful for strong women who have led the struggle for equity. My granddaughters have bright futures because of the work of many courageous women.

A Moment of Clarity on I-82 - Only the Good Friday

2010-04-02T01:34:00.000-07:00

For several weeks I've been participating in the "Only the Good Friday" meme that was started at http://thiseclecticlife.com/only-the-good-friday/ Below is my weekly contribution to the optimism virus sweeping the blogosphere.

Is there a sixth sense that warns us of impending danger? I do know that there is an instant of clarity on the way to meeting destiny. The clarity of vision appeared in slow motion, the future was seen and the outcome was immediately known. It happened to me several years ago on I-82.

The sky was blue, the pavement dry and straight and I was headed west to Portland at speed. As I passed under the overpass at Three Mile Canyon I saw the twisted metal bar in the road and I knew, in that instant, that I was in trouble. The loud bang and the shudder of the steering wheel confirmed my premonition. I hit the brakes and muscled the car to the side of the road. My left front tire sported a six-inch gaping hole and I was in the middle of nowhere. It may be an interstate highway, but in eastern Oregon the traffic is sparse and I was 10 miles from Boardman and the nearest service station.

Like McIver I quickly assessed my resources. I had neglected to pack a Swiss army knife or, what would have been even more useful, a cell phone. Fortunately I had the owner's manual. I put my skills to the test and, following the pictures, I managed to locate the spare tire and the jack. I had to read the page several times to figure out how to get them out of the trunk. I then turned to page 118, Changing a Tire. The first step was to block the car’s tires and this was easily accomplished. The second step was to loosen the lug nuts…that’s when I shifted to Plan B…get help.

I left the tire and jack by the side of the car and started walking to a warehouse that I could see in the distance. As I reached the freeway on ramp at the opposite side of the freeway, a woman stopped and asked me if I needed assistance. She drove me to a nearby farm and introduced me to Juan, the farm mechanic.

Juan loaded a big jack from the shop in the back of a farm pickup. I jumped in the cab and we headed back to the freeway, As we approached the Three Mile Canyon east-bound exit, my car was visible across the freeway. I couldn’t see the spare tire. “Oh no,” I said to Juan “I can’t see my spare tire. I left it propped up by the flat.” The tire was gone.

Juan drove over the overpass and on to the westbound ramp so we could get to my car. As I got closer I could see that the trunk was closed. I had left it open. Sure enough, there was no tire by the side of the car and the jack wasn’t there either.

A stranger had come across my car abandoned by the roadside and seen my dilemma. This stranger changed my tire. Put the flat and the jack away and closed the trunk. No note, no business card, no clues as to who my rescuer was.

I’ve read about random acts of kindness. This was the first time I experienced it. It’s one of the reasons I love Eastern Oregon.

Life is good in rural America!

Peeps for Only the Good Friday

2010-03-26T00:57:00.000-07:00

For several weeks I've been participating in the "Only the Good Friday" meme that was started at http://thiseclecticlife.com/only-the-good-friday/ Below is my weekly contribution to the optimism virus sweeping the blogosphere.

Spring is finally here. We had a little rain today, but this week we’ve also had sunshine and cloudless skies. Although my tulips and daffodils haven’t bloomed yet, around town I’ve spotted trees in flower and patches of yellow blossoms in the sunny spots. The quail were in the yard this morning. There are more than a dozen from the last summer hatch. Our pheasant wandered across the lawn a little later. There was no sign of his hen. I hope that she is busy sitting on eggs. I love the hopefulness of spring. It is a time of rebirth and renewal. Everything is new again and the future is bright.

Easter is just around the corner. Today I picked up little Easter treats to send to my grandchildren. I will miss being there to see them search for eggs. I will include a package of yellow peeps in their parcel. I don’t remember when it started, but every year my children looked forward to gathering around the microwave and watching a peep get nuked. The peep grows to several times its original size. My daughter carries on this silly tradition with my grandchildren.

I am grateful for spring blossoms and the almost forgotten feel of sunshine on my face. I am thankful for all that spring brings including those gigantic nuked peeps…and making memories.

Life is good.

A Special Birthday-Only the Good Friday

2010-03-19T00:23:00.000-07:00

For several weeks I've been participating in the "Only the Good Friday" meme that was started at http://thiseclecticlife.com/2010/03/19/the-best-thing-about-a-carnival/ Below is my weekly contribution to the optimism virus sweeping the blogosphere.

I substituted in the life skills classroom at the high school on Friday. It is always a challenging but enjoyable experience. It was one student’s 17th birthday and part of the morning lesson was to bake a cake so we could celebrate in the afternoon. (And if you’ve ever tried baking with a group of special needs kids, you know what an exciting teaching experience I had.) The birthday student basked in all of the attention and announced to everyone who came in the classroom “Today is my birfday. We’re having cake!” We heard about the cake all day.

After lunch two high school students who serve as student assistants came to the classroom. As the girls entered the room the birthday student announced “Today is my birfday. We’re having cake!” They told her that they knew it was her birthday and they gave her a bright pink gift bag. I don’t know who was smiling more, the birthday girl or the two student aides. The birthday girl tore into the bag and discovered a princess birthday crown, a princess wand and princess jewelry. For the rest of the day the student announced to everyone who walked in the room “Today is my birfday. I got a princess gift.” And then we ate the cake.

Two caring students reaching out to brighten the day of a special needs students…it gives one hope for the future. Life really is good.

Laughter

2010-03-11T20:06:00.000-08:00

http://thiseclecticlife.com/category/only-the-good-friday/

Is there anything better than hearing a child laugh?

It brings a smile to my face just thinking about my granddaughters' laughs...not giggles, but those high pitched, full-out chuckles that come from deep within. Their squeals as they fly down the slide at the park is the sound of innocence and joy. It is pleasure in it's purest form.

All is good with the world when the children are laughing.

Only the Good 'ventures With Nana

2010-03-04T21:11:00.000-08:00

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When your children are small people give you lots of advice. I don’t know how many times I heard “They grow up so fast. Enjoy them when they’re little.” I remember that when I was mired in the toddler stage, it seemed like it would never end. I think I was sleep deprived for years. And then they were graduating and heading off to college. Now I’m a grandparent to two beautiful little girls. I learned my lesson…they do grow up fast. I’m enjoying them as often as I can. Unfortunately, they live in Austin, Texas and I live in Oregon. I’m leaving this morning to visit them.

Every time I visit we do the same things. We will walk to the park and Nana will push them on the swings. I will read lots and lots of books, mostly about princesses. We will go shopping (Megan will wear her “shopping shoes”) and Nana will indulge them with just about everything they ask for. They like to go on adventures with Nana, or what Hunter calls “ventures.” They really enjoyed the “venture” to the Blue Hanger Goodwill. The Blue Hanger is a Goodwill outlet store…who knew that Goodwill had an outlet? It was an adventure for both me and the girls. There were very interesting people and piles and piles of stuff. We came away with a wedding dress for dress up, a straw hat, and a pink feather pen that lit up.

They grow up so fast. I am so lucky to be retired and able to visit whenever there are less expensive airfares. We’ll be making memories this weekend.

Life is good.

Saturday Shopping with Shawn

2010-03-03T01:07:00.000-08:00

On Saturday my friend Shawn and I went shopping in Tri-Cities, Washington. Sometimes a girl needs more than Wal-mart to quench a lust for shopping!
Tri-Cities is a quick 30 minutes away and, unlike Hermiston, has major retailers. Macy’s was having one of those One-Day Sales that actually started the day before. They have these sales several times a month and Shawn and I can usually be counted on to participate at least once, especially if they’ve sent us a selection of “Star Rewards” coupons!

I had nothing on my shopping list. Retirement calls for a much more casual wardrobe and since my clothes fill both walk-in closets in our two spare bedrooms, I probably already have the right outfit for just about any event. ..and the shoes and the perfect purse. My plan was to shop for Shawn.

But it was a GOOD sale! Shawn was no help in my quest to live on a fixed income. She found a cute zebra print jacket that was just my style and it was an additional 40% off (plus my “Star Rewards” coupon!) And there was a short wool jacket in a black, white and red subtle plaid. It was a perfect fit, but a lot like one I already have in my closet. A stranger in the dressing room agreed with Shawn that I had to buy it. The expensive green sweater was 50% off, but still costly. It had great texture and a unique style, so it went in the buy pile. We hauled our loot to the cash register. The nice thing about Macy’s is that they hold our purchases for us to pick up later so we could continue shopping.

We had to continue shopping because Shawn convinced me I needed red flats to go with that plaid jacket. So much for living on a fixed income.

In the car on the way home, the trunk bulging with our purchases, we congratulated ourselves on our shopping expertise. Everything we bought was on sale. We are good shoppers. Shawn says her epitaph will read “She never paid retail.”

What a great day! Hunting for bargains, laughing, talking and having fun, and at the end of the day I’ve got a cute new zebra print jacket and shiny red shoes. I am grateful for a good friend and great sales! Life is good, even on a fixed income.

The Sound of Science

2010-02-26T00:01:00.000-08:00

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Last week my son-in-law had surgery to restore his hearing. Four years ago he was diagnosed with a brain tumor. We were fortunate that the tumor was operable and benign. A month before the birth of his first child he underwent brain surgery. In the process the hearing in his right ear was destroyed.

Being deaf in one ear turned out to be a bonus with a newborn in the house. Jason could bury his good ear in the pillow and go to sleep with the squawking baby. The down side was that he no longer had stereo hearing. He had lost the ability to tell the direction from where sounds were coming. It was sometimes difficult for him to hear when his good ear wasn’t facing the conversation. He was well aware of these consequences when he had the surgery. We were all grateful that he survived with minimal consequences.
Last week’s surgery will restore his hearing in his deaf ear. A device was implanted in his head that will use his skull to transmit sound waves and bypass his damaged inner ear.

My understanding is that the actual device will attach to this port that is embedded in his skull. He has to wait at least six weeks for the port to firmly attach to his skull. Stay tuned and I will post updates of his progress.

As a kid I remember watching the 6 Million Dollar Man and the Bionic Woman. I never thought I would have a bionic man in my family! I continue to be amazed at scientific advances. How lucky we are to live in a country where these advances are available. It really is "Better Living Through Science." I’m grateful for the scientific and medical discoveries that will improve the quality of life for my family.

Life is both good and amazing!

Formal Friday

2010-02-18T22:02:00.000-08:00

I was called this morning to substitute at the high school for half a day. Half a day! I'm not getting out of bed to be paid for half a day; it's not worth the effort. I declined the job and went back to sleep for another half an hour. The phone rang again and I was offered a full day subbing in photography. What a fun day. The kids were working in an area that they enjoy and they were all engaged and on task. You hear a lot of criticism about today's teenagers, but the majority of them are caring and hard working. I enjoy talking with them and I learn something new everytime I sub.

Tomorrow is Friday and a group of kids at the high school participate in Formal Friday. I had noticed one student who is always dressed in a suit and tie and carries a briefcase...he stands out in the crowd of jeans, t-shirts, and backpacks! He started a movement to dress up on Friday's. Now quite a few kids participate. I wonder if I'll get called to sub tomorrow? I'll need to shave my legs so I can wear a dress and high heels...it's Formal Friday. Life is fun!

Just Over The Horizon

2010-02-08T22:08:00.000-08:00

I grew up in the late ‘50’s and ‘60’s in Southern California. Our house, on a hillside overlooking the San Fernando Valley, was surrounded by lemon groves until 1958 when developers ripped out the trees and built cookie cutter houses all around us. Almost overnight we had sidewalks and neighbors and one lone tree left standing in our front yard.

On a very clear day we could see the thin band of blue of the Pacific Ocean on the horizon. In the 1950’s pollution alerts were still in the future. The air was clear and warm and kids played outside unsupervised all day long and sometimes late into the evening.

We rarely travelled far from the neighborhood. Family outings were uncommon. Mom, Dad and little brother in the front seat, my brother Leigh and I in the back seat. In those days before seatbelts, my brother and I were welded to the plastic in the back seat by the heat. The only air conditioning was the air blowing in the rolled down windows. With the radio tuned to KHJ we headed through the winding canyon road to the beach. There was a long tunnel cut into the hillside and we begged our father to honk the horn as we drove into the darkness. We emerged again into the bright sunshine and around every turn we quickly scanned the horizon for the first sighting of the ocean. As we came to a rise in the roadway we anticipated the ocean on the other side. My brother and I bickered about who spied the ocean first until my mother would finally turn around and demand that we stop…and we would, for awhile.

I still think of those drives to the beach with my family. Although I live hundreds of miles from the ocean, when I find myself approaching the crest of a hill there’s a little flutter of anticipation and I almost expect to see the ocean on the other side reaching to the horizon. It’s a memory of the pleasure of anticipation. Sometimes it’s the journey not the destination that makes the trip.

I'm enjoying the journey. Life is good.

Too Much Information?

2010-02-07T13:15:00.000-08:00

The danger of this medium is that I become so comfortable sharing my thoughts, opinions, insights and foibles that I cross the line into recklessness. How much is too much information? The gift of retirement is that I am past the point that anyone will be vetting me for appointment to the Supreme Court or even for the position of greeter at Wal-Mart. I continue to be surprised at what other bloggers share on their sites. I don’t think I will ever totally lower my filter…and I wonder if my writing is any less powerful because of this decision? On the other hand, isn’t it awfully self-important of me to think that anyone even cares what I write about?

My brother read my blogs for the first time yesterday and agreed with my perspective that seeking out the positive helps with the path to happiness. He shared with me that his wife has a routine in her daily short drive back and forth to work to think of something that she is grateful for. He is convinced that this gives her the opportunity to think of him twice a day! That was one of my moments of delight for the day. I am grateful to have a brother with a sense of humor. We share an outlook on life that I don’t see in lot of other people. I could bemoan that he lives so far away, or that we rarely see each other, but it is better to celebrate that he is there for me and he gets me and when we get together it is a laugh fest. I think it’s time to make a trip to San Diego.

Shared memories, funny people, family…life is good.

Dancing Into Retirement

2010-01-31T22:57:00.000-08:00

As I update my blog I’m watching the Grammy awards. I love the music. I love hip hop, and the Black Eyed Peas, and Pink and especially Lady Gaga. I can sing along with Beyonce and I wish I knew all the moves to her “Single Ladies” dance. Uh Uh Oh!

I listen to this music on my ipod when I’m cleaning the house. I dance around with abandon…when no one else is home. I sometimes listen to my ipod when I’m shopping and I have to remember to restrain myself from dancing. I’m too old to be cool dancing, but not old enough to be eccentric.

I love the poetry in the lyrics. Can't you hear the pain when Pink sings "Please don't leave me" or the longing in Eminem's "Lose Yourself." It's raw emotion.

There’s so much good music and not enough time to dance. I’m grateful for for the music. Life is good.

Great Literature

2010-01-27T09:30:00.000-08:00

I just returned from visiting my grandchildren in Austin. They are growing so quickly. My oldest, Megan, will start kindergarten next September. Her sister, Hunter, aka "The Beast", is two. Yesterday morning they both crawled in bed with me, each with an armful of books. What a great way to start the day: two jammie-clad kids cuddling, sunshine just starting to peek in the window, and a plentiful sufficiency of books. This would be a better story if I could say that Nana was importing the wisdom of classic English literature to a new generation. The reality is that they are enchanted with all things princess and I am an indulgent grandmother.

We read about Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty, and Jasmine and Belle, and Ariel, who is a mermaid but apparently also a princess. The princesses are always kind to others, polite, friendly and adventurous. While this generation of princesses still looks for Prince Charming, they aren’t bad role models. I’m always quick to point out that the princesses are also intelligent and strong. Not great literature, but a good way to start the day.

Megan cuddled in close, reached up and stroked my cheek and said “I love you, Nana.”

“I love you too.” I replied.

It doesn’t get much better than this. Life is good.

Clear Vision

2010-01-22T11:29:00.000-08:00

Since retiring and starting to live on a fixed income, I've considered dropping my membership in Costco. The prices are good, but not unique. The selection is limited, but usually of excellent quality. I wind up buying large quantities of good stuff that goes bad before I can finish it. My last trip to Costco I bought a huge box of wipes for cleaning eyeglasses. It's a gigantic box of individually wrapped cleaning tissues that you usually see by the check stand of a convenience store. It's a little bit of heaven. I get a little thrill each time I open one of the little foil packets and clean my glasses. It is a decadent pleasure. One of those little daily moments of delight that I now take the time to enjoy.

When I was a kid my mother saved tin foil. After each use she washed and rinsed it and saved it for another use. We never had kleenex in a box. Why would you buy kleenex when toilet paper worked just as well and was a lot cheaper? We had store brand bread, not Wonder bread...I lusted after that soft white squishy Wonder bread. Early training is difficult to change. I still use paper towels sparingly and have been known to rinse out lightly used zip-lock bags. We usually eat whole grain breads, but occasionally I buy that soft processed bread and have a tuna sandwich. Ohhh, a little moment of bliss.

I do believe that thrift is a virtue. I don’t squander resources, but it has taken me years to get to the point where I can treat myself to very small luxuries without guilt. Like with most things in life, the trick is maintaining balance. I’m not going broke buying lens wipes; the bills are still being paid. I am conscious of the indulgence and I revel in the enjoyment of using a disposable lens wipe. It’s important to have clear vision.

I think I'll go clean my glasses....ahhhh......Life is good.

The Right Words

2010-01-18T14:08:00.000-08:00

Words are important to me. There's such a feeling of satisfaction when I can find exactly the right words to convey my thoughts or feelings. I've enjoyed finding a few blogs with excellent writing. I, of course, compare my pitiful efforts to the blogs I read. I learn a lot reading others and I'm expanding my vocabulary. Here in eastern Oregon we don't use a lot of ten dollar words.

This next week I'm going to visit my granddaughters in Texas. They know how to use language in inventive and evocative ways. Hunter, who is 2, sometimes gets frustrated when she isn't able to adequately express herself with words and will resort to typical toddler behavior and scream. Using language creatively her four year old sister commented, "She's making my ears cranky." Now in our family when a noise, or Hunter, is loud and irritating we say that our ears are cranky. I love language…and the granddaughters!

Life is good.

A Turning Point Every Day

2010-01-15T01:14:00.000-08:00

My friend , J, and I drove 50 miles yesterday to attend a workshop. The best part of the day was not the presentation, but the chance to talk in the car. We got caught up on each other's families and how we had each spent the holidays. We talked about the challenges facing our schools with the anticipated budget reductions for the coming year, and, not that anyone would ask us, our solutions for all the problems facing our district .

One thing I miss since I retired is the focused discussions with intelligent, dedicated and visionary people. Most of us got into education because we like kids and we want to make a difference in their lives. When I left the classroom to become an administrator I had the same goal. As an administrator I could help change the system to give kids a better educational environment…or so I thought.

J is now a school administrator and deeply involved in school reform. She was a teacher when I was the vice principal at her school. It was fun to rehash memories from my days as a building administrator. We did some good work back in the day. J reminded me that sometimes it is many years later when you realize the impact of an encouraging word, a wrong turn, or a seemingly insignificant incident.

I am grateful for the people who provided those insights and inspirations for me that had an impact on how I led my life. The people who encouraged me before I had faith in my own abilities pushed me down the path to success. I have a responsibility to be a positive influence for others because I never know when my words or actions could be that turning point for someone else.

Life is good and I am grateful.

Starting The Day Right

2010-01-10T00:44:00.000-08:00

Clean crisp sheets, a down comforter, rain drizzling against the window and I have no place I need to be but toasty warm in bed. For years there was always a reason I had to get out of bed. Now that I am retired and my children are grown, I have given up the alarm clock and most mornings I spend a few moments just enjoying the comfort of a warm bed before starting my day. There's no rush. I can get up or not. For the first time since childhood, I am fully rested. Retirement is a gift I get to open every day.

Life is good and I am grateful.

The Marsha Stipe School of Positive Reinforcement

2010-01-07T17:32:00.000-08:00

I am a graduate of the Marsha Stipe School of Positive Reinforcement. We were a small graduating class, made up of school administrators from the district where I worked prior to retirement. Marsha Stipe was our assistant superintendent, my supervisor, a visionary leader and a mentor.

In a rural school district an administrator occasionally has to travel to attend meetings and for required professional development. In eastern Oregon that means driving long distances. Anyone who has traveled with a group knows the challenges . Just deciding where to stop for a meal requires the negotiating skills of Henry Kissinger. The driver faces the additional burden of five passengers who each will share their knowledge of the best route, when to pass a slow moving truck on a blind curve, or how many miles an hour one can drive over the posted limit... and they usually share these tidbits after the fact.

Marsha’s rule for travel was simple…praise the driver. At first it felt artificial. I felt a little silly saying, “Nice job passing that Bekins moving van.” But, when I was the driver I really liked hearing, “Good parking!” The last time parallel parking was praiseworthy, I was in high school. Marsha explained that driving for a group of coworkers was assuming a risk and we should reward a person for taking on the additional responsibility. If we want people to step up to responsibility we need to let them know they are appreciated. We also want them to drive the next time so we don’t have to.

Marsha also believed in heaping praise on the person who made the dining decision. Getting a group of administrators to move is like herding cats. If no one takes the leadership role, you can spend a lot of time with the “Oh, I don’t care. Wherever you want to go is fine with me” discussion. This conversation continues with “Oh, I don’t like Chinese, Cuban, Italian, etc. etc.” until every possibility has been eliminated. I really did appreciate that someone made a decision and just told me what time to meet in the lobby. And Marsha made sure that the person was commended.

I practiced Marsha’s philosophy when traveling for a family reunion in England. My father’s wife, Elaine, was driving the rental car with my father and his three adult children through rural England, negotiating the roundabouts and back roads to get us to an obscure bed and breakfast. None of us knew where we were going but everyone was quick to point out when Elaine missed an exit. At one point Elaine calmly asked that we give her directions before the turn rather than yelling after passing an exit. I remembered the lessons learned at Marsha Stipe’s School of Positive Reinforcement and started to train my siblings on the benefits of positive reinforcement. Driving in a foreign country is stressful enough without criticism. Giving each of us in the car the responsibility to support the driver made the trip a bonding experience. We were all successful when Elaine was successful...and, she continued to drive us around England!

During my administrative career, long after Marsha Stipe had retired, I continued to follow the teachings of the Marsha Stipe School of Positive Reinforcement. I felt an obligation to carry on the tradition. In the spirit of “each one, teach one,” every time I checked out a district van to drive staff to a workshop I provided my riders with a short seminar and I enjoyed the praise of my exceptional driving skills that they heaped on me during the trip.

When we were small we were praised for every small effort. Contrary to what my granddaughter believes, I don’t think we need loud applause every time we use the big potty, but doesn’t it feel nice to be acknowledged just for doing a job well?

I’m grateful for the people who have taught me life lessons. Marsha Stipe was a great influence in my professional life, but she also taught me to be kinder and grateful for the everyday efforts of my peers and family. We are a team. We are in this life together. We must support and encourage each other in our successes.
So, today’s lesson is to practice telling our family and coworkers when they are doing a good job. It makes for a kinder, more supportive environment. Who doesn’t like to hear that they are appreciated? Life is good...tell someone what you appreciate about them and make the world a better place.

Simple Pleasures

2010-01-07T17:29:00.000-08:00

I started the New Year by driving through a blizzard in the Columbia Gorge to spend three rainy days in Seaside Oregon. I relaxed curled up with a blanket on the couch in the toasty warm hotel room. The sea raged just outside the window and rain fell all afternoon. I read, snacked, napped, and watched the Rose Bowl football game on TV. All of this was much more satisfying than a usual weekend at home because the view from the balcony was the churning sea. Occasionally a lone surfer in full wetsuit paddled by and then minutes later would ride a long wave back to the beach. At some point I had a moment of awareness where I realized that I was content.

I’ve been thinking lately about what makes me happy. There are the obvious things like spending time with my granddaughters, but there are also lots of little moments of pleasure that I usually don’t take the time to enjoy or appreciate. Watching the ocean on a stormy day from the warmth of my hotel room on the edge of the ocean was a simple pleasure. I’ve made a resolution this year is to try to consciously recognize and appreciate what makes me happy. I want to bask in the small moments of bliss. Did you see me smiling in the car on the way home? It’s a long, long drive, but I was content. What’s not to love about heated leather seats and NPR on the radio?

Now I’m going to post these ponderings and go sit in the hot tub…ahhh, another moment of bliss, another simple pleasure. Life is good.