Travelin' Nan

Everyday Heroes

2011-09-11T22:03:00.000-07:00

As I reached for this morning's paper, my half awakened brain recalled that today was September 11th. September 11th used to be a regular old day of the year, now it is compared with Pearl Harbor Day, D-Day, or other infamous days. I thought that I would not get wrapped up in the emotion of the day, or stuck remembering the tragedy of the day, yet it only took reading the cartoons to find myself weeping. Most of the tears seemed to be about the pain we endure in this world, while at the same time, the tears were for the wait. The wait to see, with my own eyes, the true Light of the world.

Our family travelled to New York City, just over a year after the September 11th event. We were a bit nervous about going, but were also determined not to let the terrorists get us down. We found the people of New York much friendlier than expected, as we Northwesterners think we have a corner on friendliness.

At times, we offered our condolences for their losses, and even heard a story from a man whom would have normally been in a meeting in one of the tower buildings, but for some reason, didn't happen to go in, that day.

The day we saw Ground Zero, our intinery was way too full, and our stomachs were empty so our first go by the site was sadly more like a moment from National Lampoon's Vacation. We crankily rushed inside one of the first buildings, that already had it's damage repaired. As we waited for our food, we walked by a window display that conveyed looking to the future, as the artist showed a desire to move on from the terrible event.

Since we had hurried into the building to find food, we missed seeing a good portion of what was left at Ground Zero, as the sun had already set. A make shift plywood walkway was put up and the wall of the walkway somewhat blocked the view of the site. What I noticed is that while I was, well, gawking, others were finishing their day of work and rushing to get home. They had to walk by that reminder every day. They weren't looking at it like I was, as an outsider gawking at the horrible. With speed in their gait, they walked by the site and averted their eyes. The reality for them was that every day they were reminded of a tangible display of the evil in the world.

Besides sitting for hours on end watching television coverage of what seemed was unreal in New York City, I don't remember how I responded to what happened there. I don't recall if I gave to a charity, or wrote a letter to someone who lost a loved one. I just remember I cried.

I've had all day to ponder how September 11th affected my way of life. But most of all I keep thinking about those "first responders" we have in our lives that are willing to risk theirs to save ours, and wanting to say "Thank You". Two of my close friends have firefighter husbands, whom I consider brothers. One of these men is my son's best friend's dad. The other another good friend's husband who lives in Olympia. Both are trememdous fathers and dedicated husbands.

My friends in Olympia spent time today remembering September 11th by participating in a stair climb memorial event in Seattle. They climbed 55 stories, twice, to represent the 110 stories the responders took on September 11, 2001. The part that chokes me up is that, as they climbed the flight of stairs, they carried photos of some of the men who died in the towers.

When I watched Captain America, I thought of my friend Jim Brown the entire film. In the movie the everyday, honest, and honorable man wanted to be a hero. When he became an artificial, phony hero, he fought to be a real hero. My friend Jim not only wants to be a good man through all that God and life throws his way, he wants to be a good man, and acts on it. He gives to and loves his wife, kids and community. He is a man of deep passion for many a cause and has no qualms with calling good, good and evil, the enemy.

Vintage Kinship

2010-11-22T23:28:00.000-08:00

I am not a very patient person.

We belong to an Oregon winery's wine club, and their latest newsletter shared that a wine expert thought that one of their pinot noirs was good, but would be better in ten years or so. OK, I'll most likely be alive in ten years, but waiting for the "better" for almost ten years?

Recently, I waited three whole years to drink a bottle of wine that I had purchased at the winery during my fortieth birthday weekend. Several weeks ago, I shared that wine with good friends, most of whom I have known twenty years. We savored every last drop of that bottle of wine.

Three whole years of waiting for "better."

----------------------------------

Over thirty-five years ago, I began my friendship with my sister-in-law, Lindsay. A beautiful, brown eyed girl who had stolen the affection of my brother, Doug. Ten years or so past, and another beautiful brown eyed girl, was wooed by my brother, Bob. Thus, beginning my friendship with my sister-in-law, Jan. Together, we ladies have shared many of life's markers including weddings, births, and deaths. Together, we've experienced life's joy, sadness, heartache, pain, met and unmet expectations.

These women knew me as a child and knew me whilst a teenager. When I think no one really knows me, I have lied to myself. These ladies have watched me grow, and with their patience, still love on me.

As I write this, the tears are flowing. Not my intention. It seems I often forget that I am loved. I expect love from others, but often do not "feel" the love. These ladies, these sisters, go out of their way to love on me.

Often, I find it difficult to maintain relationships with my extended family. Living 100 plus miles away from the majority of my relations make the natural bond of kinship rather labored. I can only "watch" my nieces and nephews "backs" from a distance. I hope my prayers for them to experience the love of Christ, and to live a good life, is a reality for them.

The days and years have past since I moved away from my family in Portland. Most of the children I left when I went off to college have children of their own. It seems time and distance could only allow me to pop in and out of their lives. Now, and all too soon, they are starting families, and having babies of their own. Babies, whose names I sometimes forget. Most likely, because I can't be there to watch them grow, to enjoy them, to laugh with them, to pick them up when they fall, to comfort them when they've fallen, and to encourage them to pursue goodness when they falter.

I can only speculate that my sister-in-laws have experienced some of these feelings in their relationship with me, watching me from afar. I often wish that they lived near me to help me along in life, and I to help them. I think about the field trip with the grand kids we could go on together. I see where Lindsay could help me design my garden. I imagine that Jan could teach me (or try to teach me) how to make a pie that might be good enough for someone to request as his or her last meal.

Sometimes, I want desperately for these sort of fancies to be filled. Yet, life's circumstances put limits on these yearnings or expectations. The miles we live apart, economics, and commitments to our children and husbands keep these expectations from being met. The heart felt question of, "What can I do for you?" is limited to talking on the phone, interacting on facebook, or sending emails.

Both of my sister-in-laws are beautiful on the inside, and out, as they will never be anything but that to me. Perhaps this is me realizing that all along, in their friendship, it's as if I have been given a great wine, that in time, matures into a wonderful, indescribably good fruit that can only be experienced in shared moments that have required much patience. This sweet aging of our friendship is the "better."

Ode to the Internet

2010-10-11T13:07:00.000-07:00

I don't want to take the time necessary to convey the love I have for what has become my love of being able to share with my world of "friends" the very important, deep, and meaningful thoughts I have within moments that I have such thoughtful thoughts. I want to be able to share what I think is worth sharing, with a photo, let's say, that may convey the humour of the situation, within moments of that thoughtful thought.
But the world is not up to speed with me. It's driving me batty to think that I couldn't call out of England without sacrifing our next house payment. All so that I could call my Mum to say that I was at Buckingham Palace to watch the changing of the guard. I also couldn't upload to facebook a picture of the fruit compote that we had for breakfast in Spain, as the compote had very interesting looking fruit/garnish on top of it. All this frustration because I didn't have a free wireless connection at every street corner as we do in America.
I have imagined what it must have been like for those travellers back in the day when everyone did a "grand tour" of the world. They too were probably wanting to share their experiences with their peeps, but those travellers may have actually taken the time to write and to give thought to what they were writing, in a letter intended for one particular person, or audience.
My last blog post seemed to be an example how we can make a choice to share even ridiculous thoughts with the world. Does the world need to know that I had a gurgly tummy during my first transatlantic flight? I think not.
It takes time, and some level of deeper thought to find, and use words to describe the "pretty" river outside our hotel in Toledo. It takes time to decide whether I would like to convey my thoughts in a way similar to Nathaniel Hawthorne, or Erma Bombeck. Either of those writing "styles" take time, which the "younger" generation, such as myself, is no longer willing to take. Nor are we interested in the wait it may take to have shared those thoughtful, important thoughts that go beyond that layer of instant gratification to which our modern minds have become accustomed.
So, I am not willing to take the time, at present, to really write an ode to the internet, as is would take too much of my time to explain what would only scratch the surface.
I wonder if "we" as a generation have become such that by only extending ourself to "scratch the surface" on any given subject, that we are missing out on a deeper, truly more excellent and meanful life that is intended for us by our Creator.

I Was Suppose to Be Sleeping. Things They Don't Bother to Mention in Travel Guides

2010-10-05T20:14:00.000-07:00

* warning- I know this post is not completely editted, but I know you all don't want to miss out on the fun!
>I should be sleeping right now... But since I'm not asleep like I should be, please enjoy my stream of consciencenessy thoughts.
Random idea, theme topic 1: Bloating in the sky.
Ever since the airplane ride back from the girls trip to Chicago last September, when Sunae told me that carbonated beverages make one, well, bloat at a high altitude, I've noticed that my in flight abdomen can be, well gurgly, unconcomfortable, and if I may say, Bloaty. Yes, capital B bloaty.
Yes, middle aged women are often bloaty, but now that I am throughly into my own historical middle age, I can say that whilst travelling in a plane, in the stratosphere, I, well, get bloaty.
Why can't we just take a pin and pop the bloat like a balloon?
2. Squirells, as related to bloating.
It feels like a couple of squirells are chasing each other around in my gut. No. I think it's more like they are trampelinging from one of my internal organs to the other. Name an organ-liver, spleen, gall badder, those squirells are just bouncing away.
This is what one may feels like after five airline flights and a transatlantic flight as one of those flights feels like. Not that I'm complaining!
3. "You were lucky!"
This travelling process also reminders me of back in my old Young Life days when the old Malibu Princess would take FOREVER to get to the Princess Louisa Inlet. The last trip to Malibu, almost twenty years ago, I eventually progressed to bringing a sleeping bag, pillow, and Thermarest. Back then I wore a hat, Sporthill pants, all while I hoped it didn't rain so I could sleep on the less noisy deck, which was outside, mostly, uncovered. To makes the return trip more difficult, was when when I was all out of money, and could only smell the salt and vinager potato chips...
4. Preparation for Spench.
Another observation is that this world wind tour our family is taking is real, not just a dialogue previously written for Madame McKenroe's first year high school French class. Nor is it not just another hour of non-chatter in my college Spanish discussion class. This is genuine immersion. A chance for me to bring the good old American Melting pot across the pond and mix all my language studies, history studies, and art studies into a smorgasbord.
So, here's what's gone on so far. The beginning of this trip is like a Tuesday on a soap opera. The suspense that built up after Friday, climaxed on Monday, and this was the waiting time for whatever storyline change was going to happen on Friday to leave one in suspence.
Today, well sort of technically yesterday's threat alert- a little snippet about increased terrorist threat for Americans in Europe added a little flavor to our itinerary. This warning evoked that the kind of feeling one gets from watching a James Bond movie. The suspensful kind that leaves you hanging on the edge of your seat.

Sighting the Gems

2010-08-15T10:55:00.000-07:00

Over the past six months, I have been mulling over my "next" blog post. Having gone back to edit the post several times, I have felt like something in my recollection was missing. It seemed to lack a revealing of what I truly enjoy about traveling within this Earthly world. While some of the places I've been lately show some aesthetic beauty, what I consider the most beautiful sights in my forays, are the people I spend time with along the way.
When I was a girl, I loved "Show and Tell." In grade school, I brought a piece of wood to share with my class that I collected from a visit to my aunt's place in Creswell. Although I can't recall, it is also more than likely, that I was told my sharing time was up before I was done recalling the events of my visit. Hence, it's never been a problem for me to share about the donuts, or the bus tokens, or which celebrity I happened to befriend on a trip.
But now, when I'm blogging my "Show and Tell," what I do find difficult is conveying the fullness of the "sharing" with others as we make this journey through this life. It's those times during the exchange of the "What's Happening," or "Not Happening" in each other's lives that are most worthwhile. It's what I walk away with when I get together with a friend who "Knew Me When." I see the purposefulness in having had this person in my life. We can reminisce about those not so embarrassing "then" times and see our utter youthful naivety, the sometimes sad mistakes of then, and sometimes, even the humor of the situation now.
I realize that each of our stories is unique. I believe strongly that God is the Author of our lives, our stories, and that joy is often strangely, mysteriously, puzzlingly intertwined with sorrow. That does not mean that I equate evil with good, but that we will encounter hardships, trial, villains, and difficulty enduring this life at times-even with a Good God who is in charge of the universe.
If you don't know me well, you might think I collect friends like I put pins on a map to cities I've been. Yes, easily making friends is one of my greatest strengths, and greatest weakness. But if the wind blows me your way, or you mine, I do cherish such a wind.

If you know me well, it will be no surprise that I'd like to end this post with a song.

I guess part of what I'm trying to say is better said in a song by one of the favorite vocal artists, Julie Miller, entitled, "I Like You." It captures why the people I encounter in life are more important that the places I'll ever travel.

If you want to be big but are small, if you're little and you want to be tall,
And you feel like you're no good at all...well, I like you just like you are,
Now, some people run very fast and you always watch them go past,
And you think that you're always last, but I like you just like you are.

I like you, I really do,
You are the only you I ever knew,
Though everyone's special, there's no one like you,
That's why I like you, I really do.

Now a pony looks up to the sky, watches the birds going by,
But he never thought he should fly, and I like you just like you are.

I like you, I really do,
You are the only you I ever knew,
Though everyone's special, there's no one like you,
That's why I like you, I really like you,
That's why I like you, I really do

So you, my friend, those whom I encounter along the way, are a precious gem, a jewel hand created by our Maker, who has not cast you aside, but sees you as the work in progress along the journey to the Eternity.

Hello Seattle Part I

2010-03-20T10:44:00.000-07:00

Back in 1984, I took my farthest venture away from home, passing through Seattle en route to Young Life's camp Malibu. I may be able to conjure up a date of my first sighting of the Space Needle, but the image of Seattle and the Space Needle seem to be an inseparable one, one that needs no timestamp for me.

My first real visit to Seattle, though, was the following year. Angie Hergert, a high school friend, with whom I had gone to Malibu for College Prep Week, in '85, had met a boy of interest at camp, and asked me to join her on my very first road trip-without "adults."

First time at the Pike Street Market was memorable, not only because we were on our own, but something about the history of the buildings, the shuffle of the city people, and the sites of a cosmopolitan, upscale place were something other than the familiar Portland.

As I recall various trips to Seattle, I realize that it is the city where I decided to name my first girl, Emma.

I was in the Laura Ashley store with Fiona and Erin, and at the time, Laura Ashley had a clothing line called, "Emma." We girls had a discussion that went something like...

"Emma is a pretty name isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's a pretty name."

Since I was the only one married at the time, I chimed in with, "I'll name my girl Emma." Like it was some sort of pact or something. So, I was then obligated to name her Emma, which I did, a few short years later.

Nowadays, my Emma is quite fashionable, and I still own the sweater I bought on that trip (mock me, if you must, but I have not worn it for some considerable time).

In the days of Seattle "Grunge," also the days of "Pre-kids," another road trip had me visiting an old South Young Life kid. Amber Young and I ventured north, from Eugene, to stay with our friend, Erin Lantz. This trip, now seems a happy blur: memories of driving around the city after dark with all the big city lights glowing; the Seattle Center; the Elephant car wash sign; and the giggling that comes with staying up too late ("too late" is more of a "forty-something term, rather than the twenty-something definition of time referring to "any time after midnight"). These particular recollections are mixed with a bit of sadness because I haven't seem much of those two since that trip, now almost two decades ago.

Relief from the Weariness

2010-02-23T21:31:00.000-08:00

Before I recall some of the past few months of travel adventures, I must put aside those tales until I give a proper "Thank you" to all of my friends and family who have stopped along the road and given a word of condolence for the loss of my sister.

I didn't know what to expect the months that followed Christine's death, but grief, and many of life circumstances have hit me harder than I would chose. But what I have found, in most cases, is that people are willing to extend grace more often than not.

For those that gave me shelter when our family needed it, thank you. The meals from the heart, the listening, the shoulder to cry on, thank you.

At times I felt that I would never be able to repay such kindnesses, but those who have generously given do not seem to have this in mind. They have given their gifts freely.

I hope not to forget these kindnesses, as I sojourn in this world, waiting not so patiently for that place He has for me that has no need for condolences.

Walk On

2009-11-16T19:57:00.000-08:00

One of the most difficult walks of my life. Getting back on the horse, per se. I actually have two legs, but if you'd ever tried to take a picture of yourself walking, this might be what you get. This walk, I have done many a time, but the last time I attempted this route, I didn't go very far.

Almost a month ago, I had begun my workout, then called the hospital to check in with my sister. I knew she wasn't doing well, and if I remember correctly, was just out of the ICU. Sometimes, our calls made no sense, as pain medication had altered her state of mind. With this call, she sounded very clear, although I knew she was very sick. She told me she was retired now, and she was planning on coming down for a visit. She said she'd work around my schedule. Then she said she would like to get to know her little sister better, as her voice began to weaken. That was our last, "lucid" conversation.

So, I was out today, the first attempt at exercise since our talk, and since her death.

I trotted just a little, but my best was a saunter. This route is alongside my sister-in-law's work, but I noted that I couldn't call her to come join me, as she is out of the country. I wanted to call another friend who works at the same place. She'd lost her sister a few years ago to cancer, and we now have this bond that no one wants to have- that of having to say goodbye to a sister, yet not on our terms.

I kept moving, as my iphone was playing my ipod songs, some songs sad, some contemplative. "Be Still and Know" by Steven Curtis Chapman came on. I looked at sky, the tree, noticing that I had not missed fall entirely. Life had carried on, and God was still going about doing His business.

Evander has karate class near Sacred Heart's RiverBend campus, and usually, during the class I try to walk or run. The route I generally take, meanders near the McKenzie River. On the east is the river, and west of the path is the hospital.

I have come to the realization that the hospital has become both a friend an enemy to me.

In October, last year, I had a "procedure" done, removing a benign breast tumor. I suppose, then, the hospital was a friend.

The next month, I sat numbly across from one of my closest friends, holding her toddler, as she had been struck by an SUV in a hit and run accident. She had broken her sacrum, and both she and her daughter narrowly escaped death. Although in great pain, she quoted Luther, as this life is about the "becoming."

Today, I remembered not knowing what this "becoming" would look like for my friend. My prayers were for her life to be spared, and that the pain would only be temporary. The feelings of confusion, shock, and numbness of that day are a memory, and then, the hospital was not my friend.

I headed closer to the river, needing to sit, and cry.

I felt a wave of sorrow for my brother-in-law, niece, nephew, brothers and sister who knew the pain of the loss of our sister. I watched the current of the river, hoping it could take the sorrow away.

-----------

Earlier, as I dropped Van at the dojo, a friend approached me and asked how I was doing. This friend had seen me come and go on many a walks, as her sons had taken karate the previous year with Van. We occasionally would sit and chat, however I generally reserved this time for exercise. But her question was one that I had been waiting for, "How are you?" I could see she wanted to take the time to stop, to be with me, and to listen to my response. I began a little dance with my words, then the tears came as I spoke of the memories. The memories that came at me like waves. Then, she did something I had also been waiting for from all my friends, she cried with me, as I told her of my morning.

This morning, on a seemingly routine stop at the Safeway, I found myself in tears by the end of my trip. My sister had worked for Safeway, in the deli at it's Gresham store for over twenty years. Although I hadn't visited her there but a couple of times, I associated my Safeway's deli workers with her, as they were often a visual reminder to call or think about my sister. I don't really buy much at the deli, but this summer, I did speak to one of the clerks about my sister being ill. She was empathetic, and as we talked determined that they may have even worked together at one point.

The other clerks in the store are unfamiliar with my sister's story, but every time I go to the checkout, I want to tell them about her. They look at me with familiarity, as I have lived in my neighborhood at least twelve years. But they don't know just being in the store reminds me of my sister.

As the tears laid beneath the surface, I thought I could hold them back if I distracted myself. So, I bought a cup of coffee and planned on taking a gander at the gifts in the Shamrock gift store next to the Safeway. But even the "Thank you, Hon" from the barista at the Starbucks in the Safeway nearly sent me into tears.

In the gift store, I peered around the corner at the florists to see if I could spy my sister-in-law's sister, as she is always a bright spot to any day. But I didn't look too hard, as she is one who could see beyond my friendliness to the tears I was avoiding. I looked briefly at the gifty items, but one too many "sister" type gifts sent me over the edge. I went to the car, and looked in the mirror. Unbeknownst to me, the tears had swelled over, and streamed down my cheeks.

---------

I got up from that rock by the river, and continued my foray. I took a mental note to tell my former running/walking partner that the foliage around the perimeter of the hospital was filling in quite nicely. She and I spent much of these walks venting, laughing, and a bit of crying on our little excursion's while the hospital's landscaping was being filled in (including the use of manure). My friend moved away this past spring. Colorado is a bit of a trek from Eugene, and I find that Skype is a poor substitute for a real live friend.

As I strolled around the hospital, the smokers dotted the outskirts of the landscaped areas. I wanted to stop and tell them that if they would just quit smoking, they could lengthen their lives, however, being that I am not God, I went on with my roaming.

As I walked, my body had an unfamiliar ache. I hadn't taken it out for a spin in such a long time, that the muscles in my back and legs had an unfamiliar feeling of tiredness. I kept going, one step after the other.

When I had made it back to pick Evander up, I checked in with my friend, saying I hadn't been on a walk for so long, that my body reminded me of my age. We chatted a bit, yet she seemed to know that today's walk, was not an ordinary walk.

She Called Me Nanny

2009-11-05T03:13:00.000-08:00

I have been on a journey. Yes, I spent a good portion of the summer on little trips around the Northwest, and had a fabulous getaway with the girls to Chicago, but this “road trip” that I have been on was not just a physical journey, but a spiritual one. This was the process of being with my sister as she bravely battled leukemia.

My sister Chris was about fifteen years older than me. One of those first people to see me when I came into this world. She babysat my brother and I often while we were young, being that extra set of kids that only a big sister (and brother-in-law) could love. Throughout childhood, even while I was in high school, we had talked on the telephone almost daily. I can't necessarily remember the content of our conversations, but it seemed to be about knowing we were just there, there for each other.

I left home twenty some years ago, as I was the family member who was “the one who moved away.” I didn't have much money, and back in those days, long distance telephone calls were an expense I couldn't afford as a college student. These situtations helped create some distance between my sister and myself, as did when I came home, and tried to decide with whom to spend my time, and like most college students, chose to hang out with friends instead of family.

120 miles can be just as far as 500, and so at times my relationship with my sister waxed and wained. I the tireless, travelling, extrovert, and her the introverted observer.

My sister began getting sick a few years ago. The symptoms lead to a diagnosis of a blood disorder, and then this July, a diagnosis of leukemia, and seemingly advanced at that. In June, I had an overwhelming “feeling” that the time with my sister was limited. I joined the extended family on a camping trip, and stole a few moments here and there with her.

While camping, in between campsite visits, and community meals, I caught her while she was resting in her trailer. I just parked myself right besides her, and chatted it up. I don't remember the content of the conversation, but this was one of our moments before she headed into battle.

I can't recall which day she called to tell me she had cancer. She didn't want to tell me. It wasn't long before she was in Good Sam, receiving chemotherapy treatments. I was sick when she first was at the hospital, and couldn't visit her right away, and was just about to run the Cascade Lakes Relay, the relay I'd been training for all summer. I had such a hard time training for and completing the relay, knowing the dichotomy between the pain she was going through, and how I was living my life to it's fullest, in a sad, but healthy body.

After the race, I headed to Portland for our annual family picnic. Christine rarely missed a family picnic, but was in a hospital bed instead.

The next couple of months I was able to spend a few nights in the hospital with my sister.

One of those first nights, I had my obligatory, “What do you think of Jesus?” type talk with her. She didn't have all the traditional Christian answers I may have been searching for. Christine was, less that traditional. Her answers gave me a peace of mind, knowing she had given up bitterness, and embraced love instead. This cancer had caused a softening, that made her more open to receive Love.

She fought this cancer with her whole being, until her last breath.

I will miss my big sister, the one who made a mobile with me when I was five, my first “homeschool” art project. The one who taught me that Ramen with peas and cheese was tasty. The sister who let me be a part of her family-so many camping trips, sleepovers, trips to the river, and “uptown.” The sister who did all my dishes at my fortieth birthday party.

I'll miss the sister who called me Nanny.

Things to Do

2009-08-31T08:55:00.000-07:00

Almost a month has passed since I posted my last post. Perhaps the significance of this is that life for me this month has moved at a pace much like those "speed you up" walkways at airports. I'm sure those have names, but I would have to pause to look it up. No such thing happening right now.

My life, for the past month...

Our "quiet" family life of the summer revolved around Evander's karate classes, Emma's lifeguard training, Paul's search for a job, and my training for running up and down some hills. There. Oh, that's just the start of this month.

I can almost smell the hospital on my hands.

I think I spent six nights this August with my sister at Legacy's Good Samaritan Hospital in NW Portland. I "slept" in a recliner that mostly reclined, and tried to be ready to help move her medicinal cart and cords when she needed to use the ladies room. I tried to offer her comfort, food, and laughter to help her heal while she was being treated for Leukemia.

This trying is trying.

Being that God is in charge of the universe, and the author of all our stories, I didn't quite know what to pray for/about when this whole trial began. But that first visit with my sister in the hospital gave me a start. She was ready to face this disease head on, as she said she had "things to do." So I prayed He would allow her those things to do.

I have found in trying to help her to get these "things" done, that if I just slow down and be with, and love the people God has brought in my life, I have less "things to do," and more time to just enjoy the being. The breathing. The seeing. The hugs. The "I love yous."

So maybe those are the kinds of "things to do" that my sister has in mind.

Those fast moving "speed you up" walkways at airports don't allow for that.

An Earned Medal

2009-08-06T09:10:00.000-07:00

Our family has forayed all over Oregon this Summer, but underlying the stories of all the good times, has been my concern for my sister Chris' health.

Two weeks ago, she was diagnosed with leukemia, and this week I've spent a couple of nights in the hospital with her.

A week ago, I was wondering if my stomach was going to be able to handle participating in this year's Cascade Lakes Relay. The relay is a 200 plus mile relay in which a team of up to twelve divide 36 relay legs into three sets of legs per person, and do their best to go the distance, and beat the heat and altitude of Central Oregon.

My stomach had been flip-flopping for several days, even knocking me out a good portion of the previous Monday. The temperature in Eugene made for good practice to run in the high heat that was predicated for the race, however, my body did it's best only running a couple of miles during the week. Not great practice before such an event.

I completed that race, with the help of God and my friends. Yet as slow, hot and ugly as it was to me, it's challenge helped prepare me for this time with my sister, I am certain.

During the time with her at the hospital, I experienced little sleep, and some heartache, as I heard and watched her suffer.

As I spent this time with her, some of the memories of all those times with she and her family started coming back.

My sister, shall I say, is a few years older than I am, a teenager when I was born.

I remembered a trip to the beach at a time when all the siblings lived under one roof. I was perhaps three or younger. We stayed all together in a cabin, presumably all eight of us. We have a photo of the "big girls" lined up on the beach in their swim suits, while my brother and I dig in the sand around them.

I don't recall Chris moving out of our house, but she became a young bride, moved to Texas, and had my nephew, Buddy, who is just shy of two years younger than me.

I'm sure she missed the rain of Portland, so living in Texas was short lived. When her family moved back to Oregon, she seemed to always have my brother, Jim, a year older than me, and myself in tow. Our mother worked, but my sister often and graciously, cared for us.

When I was with her in the hospital, my sister went through this "Chemo Hell." At one point she tried eating a Popsicle, but the chemo had burned the inside of her mouth and throat, so there was no relief.

I then remembered the nickels and the ice cream man.

When we lived on SE 83rd in Portland, I used to beg her (politely I am sure) for nickels to buy ice cream from the ice cream man. She'd always hesitate, making some sort of grunting denial, saying she wasn't made of money, but conceded by eventually producing four nickels for all of us kids.

It was all the Popsicles, picnics, BBQ's, walks to "town" that were rising from my memory.

What I also recalled at the hospital, I shared with her nurse in a little break down moment.

When I was in the sixth grade, I had pneumonia and was hospitalized a good portion of my Spring Break. I had been staying at my sister's house in Estacada, began getting ill, and since she didn't drive, we had to get on a bus, and return to my home in Portland. I threw up the entire, windy, bus ride, but she held that bag for me.

I couldn't help but think of her while I was running that Cascade Lakes Relay. I'd been unable to see her in the hospital before the race because of my stomach ailment, I didn't want to risk exposing her. I wondered if I should have dropped out of running the race to be with her in Portland. But she has always been encouraging of my running. She was there that first road run, when I was twelve or so. It was in the pouring rain, yet when I finally came in, there she was cheering me on. I didn't realize until now, that she probably stood in that pouring rain waiting for me until the end of that run.

Years later, when I ran in the state high school cross country race, there she was, again.

Last Friday, as I ran that first leg of the relay, after only a mile in the ninety something degree heat, I kept comparing that yucky hot run, to what my sister was going through. It was nothing like she was going through, but the difference was the choice of one painful step after another. I had a choice to quit. She couldn't and didn't quit.

On Monday, I gave her my medal from the relay. She's got it hanging on her cart of medicine she has to drag around with her in the hospital. I told her she helped me get through the race.

Not taking credit for her own kindness and support she'd given me through the years, she said, "We all helped you get through it."

Perspective

2009-07-02T07:40:00.000-07:00

This photo was taken a few weeks ago, while on a family camp out at Cape Lookout State Park. Our group found ourselves on a spontaneous walk up the beach, towards the cape. I was with my two brothers, sister-in-laws, sister, and various other family members. I honestly don't get much "family time," as in extended family time. I've been married coming up on twenty years now, and live about two hours from most family members, just off an interstate that seems to only go North.

Our get togethers are generally a family picnic in August, and a Christmas Eve party. I've attended most weddings, showers, and anniversaries when possible, but sometimes the physical distance makes it difficult to connect.

I found myself, waxing a bit sentimental on this walk. While with them, I took a moment to notice that I was actually with my brothers and sisters. Not at a party, where it's comparable to speed dating. Sort of a speed catch-up with relatives, "Oh, you lost your job? You had surgery? Your wife left you?" Some of these things said, some unsaid.

But we were actually walking on a beach, together. As we strolled, I turned to notice that my sister was with her husband, smiling, and behaving rather playfully. These past few years, she has been sick with a blood disorder, balancing living with pain and other physical ailments. But it was a moment of joy seeing her being happy, with people she loved, and that loved her.

I spent much of my childhood at my sister's home. She had the generosity to include myself, and my brother in her life. She is several years older than I, and although she had her own family, we were with them a good portion of the time. She fed us, entertained us, and included us in her life. I will always be grateful for this time given, and will never be able to repay such kindness.

My sister hasn't shared much in regards to the pain this disease brings her. Sometimes I see it, other times, she hides the pain. She is in the hospital right now, I've not known to rush up the interstate, or wait until a "good time to go." Never seems to be such a time.

I know that God is the author of all our stories, and hers like most, has been one of joy and pain. My prayer for her is that she will be given the strength to endure the pain, and feel the joy that may seem too difficult to experience during this time.

Before I move on...

2009-06-08T08:44:00.000-07:00

I often call myself, "The Queen of Movin' On." I ruminate over the reasons behind this self-label, thoughts such as: a philosophy of living in the moment; moving onto the next event, as the last one is now history; maybe life is sometimes just too painful in that moment, with a need to time warp to the future; ADD; and, yes, I'm sure I could think of more influences. At any rate, as I spent time reflecting on my past year, the days started whooshing by. It starts with the minutes, then the hours slip by, and I've forgotten what it was I was working on. I'll forgot what to remember to do for the day, and then WHOOSH, again, the day is gone.

I know people can fain gratitude, and I am to be grateful for this life, as I have had so many reminders to be so. But sometimes my gratitude wains, and I become discouraged by life's challenges. Though, even in the midst of sorrow, I can be grateful. I am grateful for this life I am given. I am grateful for the people with whom God allows to share the path of this life.

Then there's that whole idea of being able to laugh at myself. Ha, ha.

I have a friends, who is beyond extraordinary, and I spend a great deal of time with her.

She blogs by the name of "Bella Art Girl." She's beautiful, creative and has a whole bunch of outstanding personal attributes. She is also a kick ass photographer. Yes, strong language, but a complementary term for the current culture. She also has her camera, frequently, during our events. Rarely, do I mind being photographed. I am rather a goof for the camera most of the time, and don't take myself very seriously in doing so. But sometimes, it's way fun having a photographer as a close friend. Well, Bella captured a good portion of my birthday last week, so I thought I'd let her words do their things, and the pictures, well, I'll explain gold lame-later.

A Year In an Ordinary Life Pt. 2

2009-06-04T07:38:00.000-07:00

So one of the reasons I have found difficulty in keeping current in posting a blog is that life just goes by too fast to even write about it. I hadn't even finished summing up my ordinary year when another fantastic day or two went zooming by.

Where was I?

This photo was taken shortly after we drove through fire. That's another story.

Here we are at a park in Florence, on a playground. I have spent a good portion of my life on playgrounds. My hips are a little snug on most playground swings now. I also get a little queasy sometimes, but on occasion, I remember to join in and play with the kids.

In September, we enjoyed a beyond spectacular day at Dorris Ranch

sharing the moment with Dan and Patty as the took their vows in marriage.

It was so beautifully captured by our friend Bella.

I had only seen Patty from afar before Paul and I were married. She was away being a nanny on the East Coast at the time of Paul and my's engagement. But I still remember the lovely note that she sent welcoming me as her sister-in-law. That welcome has never ceased, and our love and admiration has grown into that of a kindred over these past decades.

A couple of weeks ago we stopped by my mom's place. As we visited, I asked if she had some old photos she could show the kids. They patiently sat with Grandma Lois and heard her stories about their great aunts and uncles, the good times and even tales of the bad neighbor kids she babysat sixty years ago. They saw pictures of my adventures when I was a kid, not realizing that photos such as these would also be a part of their history. Just a week or so after this, Van had an assignment in his archaeology class to research his family tree, so this little visit was valuable in more that one way.

Being a "stay at home" Mom does have it's advantages. One never know what antics will take place at my house, or in my backyard.

The pool boy wouldn't serve us, but we somehow managed a "pina colada/five o'clock somewhere" moment a couple of weeks ago. These are the women that make the "stay at home" job not such a chore. Yes, we all love our men, but when there are moments like these, we are especially thankful for those men who are out working for such a fabulous American life for their ladies.

On, February 14th 2009, I launched an idea that I've had going on in my little head for a while. It's a combination of thoughts, ideas and experiences I've had for a while. For example, one day, I sat on my couch and as a woman was running by my house I shouted, "Lift your legs!" (emphasise on me being on my COUCH. Also, I could have only been shouting in my head) Something about Winter, SAD, a whole bunch of experiences over my lifetime accumulated into this idea which I named, "LIFt," "Ladies International Fitness and Faith Training." OK, maybe it should be LIFFt, but that sounds funny. The "t" is actually a small "t" because it becomes a cross, while a capital "T" doesn't.

My dear, sweet niece Morgan, helped design the logo. She is so gracious with me as to meet in Albany to work on the LIFt website "welift.org."

I benefit from our meetings in many ways, and especially enjoy the "real time" with she and Owen. She is contributing her time and labor, and will manage the website, as our group gives information, etc., to contribute to the site's content. It's all been quite exciting to see ones idea come to fruition. I'm curious to know how it will evolve over the years. It's a good idea, that seems to actually be coming into play. But a good idea will only be as good as the community that is involved with it, and so far, it is going quite well. Now is the time where the hands on work of designing the organization will come into play. I am grateful to be the lead in this, and truly love the support this idea's been given on so many levels.

I will leave this ordinary year with this last photo. It's from LIFt's first "official" event, participating in "The Run for Life Challenge". Here I am with EK, who is a great teammate and eternal friend, sister. Here's to another ordinary year!

A Year In an Ordinary Life

2009-06-01T20:35:00.000-07:00

I am absolutely amazed how quickly this year flew, with me in it of course. I like to reaccount my life each birthday, especially since my philosophy allows for the idea that every day is a gift, and just may be my last on the Earth.

I don't know if I have fancy software to make the pictures I'm going to post fancy, but I am more "Plain Nancy" than "Fancy Nancy," so please bear with the "asthetic enough". It's the context of the photo, or story that's what important.

So, I need to start with my man, or Paulie, as some call him and his great patience with me. I have such gratitude for all that he puts up with me. I could start with how I pile my clothes everywhere in our bedroom, or how often I lose things in "special" places. Perhaps I should mention my million dollar ideas, or statements like, "I want to go to ------(fill in the blank with some destination that involves a plane trip, hotel and rental car). Can we go to ------ soon?"(fill in the other blank which usually implies within the next month).

So my "Sugar Daddy" is somewhat compliant with said requests as such requests are rather frequent. In November, Paul was "RIFfed"-a number, cog if you will, in a "Reduction of Force" manuveur by his former employer of ten plus years. Now, although not nearly as compliant with my requests, this riffle in our life has not stopped me from my "I want to go to there" statements. His patience endures, even when I don't get things like, "Really, there is no more 'Nancy's Travel Fun Fund.'"

We're pushing twenty years of marriage, and without going all Dr. Phil or Dr. Laura on ya, I'll just say that we made that commitment to stay together no matter what. Now I'm going to go all out and say this staying together is strictly by the grace of God. But by the grace of God are we not another statistic of divorce. It's America, and the odds are against us. The story of my life includes this man, even though I have no clue as to what it means to be a good wife and supporter of my husband. This trying to fit the "Good Christian Woman" mold has never been easy, as I stumble and bumble through what it means to love another person. I do love him, and am thankful that he stays on this journey, year after year after year...

Here I am with little Miss Georgous, she's the one on the left (Now, of course I never call her that except for with the "accent" of the young man, Brian, who works at the River Road Fred Meyers). We are depicted here at a park in Roseburg after yet another field trip. Well, this was a special field trip as it was the Umpqua Dairy Factory. My friend EK set up a private tour with our buddies led by one of the owner/operators. We had plenty of freebies and of course, a new appreciation for ice cream factory workers.

Just a couple of days after her 14th birthday(or was it Mother's Day) Em's came into my bedroom with ipod in hand said "Mommy, I think you'll like this song" and proceeded to set me up with Taylor Swift's "Best Day". I got the gist of the song at about "pumpkin patch" when I started bawling:

I'm five years old, it's getting cold, I've got my big coat on
I hear your laugh and look up smiling at you, I run and run
Past the pumpkin patch and the tractor rides, look now, the sky is gold
I hug your legs and fall asleep on the way home

I don't know why all the trees change in the fall
But I know you're not scared of anything at all
Don't know if Snow White's house is near or far away
But I know I had the best day with you today

I'm thirteen now and don't know how my friends could be so mean
I come home crying and you hold me tight and grab the keys
And we drive and drive until we found a town far enough away
And we talk and window shop 'til I've forgotten all their names

I don't know who I'm gonna talk to now at school
But I know I'm laughing on the car ride home with you
Don't know how long it's gonna take to feel okay
But I know I had the best day with you today

I have an excellent father, his strength is making me stronger
God smiles on my little brother, inside and out, he's better than I am
I grew up in a pretty house and I had space to run
And I had the best days with you

There is a video I found from back when I was three
You set up a paint set in the kitchen and you're talking to me
It's the age of princesses and pirate ships and the seven dwarfs
And Daddy's smart and you're the prettiest lady in the whole wide world

And now I know why the all the trees change in the fall
I know you were on my side even when I was wrong
And I love you for giving me your eyes
For staying back and watching me shine
And I didn't know if you knew, so I'm takin' this chance to say
That I had the best day with you today
© SONY/ATV SONGS D/B/A TREE PUBG CO; TAYLOR SWIFT PUB DESIGNEE;

It's an amazing gift to be able to mother this girl, and although I take this job very seriously, I am bumbling and praying for wisdom to love her at the same time.

Here's my boy with his sister. Their age difference can be problematic at times, but they do love each other dearly. He turned ten in December, and is too quickly leaving little boyhood. At times, he reminds me of my father, my brother, and of Paul when he's building or creating something. He bloosomed academicly this year as we attended "Classical Conversations" this school year. The boy is a whiz at English grammar, and absolutely loves identifying the structure and parts of the language. He also shared some hard times with me this year. In November, just a few days after his dad lost his job, his Godmother, otherwise known as "Auntie" was struck by a car while out on a walk with her baby. Not only did I have my own grief, saddness, and anger to deal with in this unthinkable accident with one of my closest friends, the kids went through their own process of determining the "Why?" of such a tragic event.
Thank God Auntie is still with us.
This woman having only been out of the hospital for days, literally, drug her body to Evander's birthday party. Believe me, watching a friend struggle so is no picnic, but the beauty in this woman, and the friendship we have with each other, and our families, is truly a gift from God.

This is a typical picture of our familes together, Van and Lil side by side, and Emma herding Wilder. This day was a bit of forced fun as I am quite nostalgic in regards to strawberry picking. I spent a good amount of time picking berries with friends in the summers of my youth, and insist that everyone in my family gets the feel of the berries, the smell of the mix of berries and dirt, and that something that involves physical labor with the sun beating down on you (That last part sounds less romantic).
Here I am with "Straight Shootin' Linda."For some reason, she likes to spend her precious vacation time with us. It's quite easy for me to do so. She's a damn good cook for one. For every twenty times she's cooked, I have once. I'm not sure what that says about my abilities in the cuisine arts, but that whole romantic concept of food and caring etc., comes through with Linda. Oh, did I mention that she lets me ramble on and on when we invite ourselves to her Portland home? Our girls just when to the Taylor Swift concert together in Portland. Her girls gifted my Em concert tickets as a birthday gift. The girls went sans adults, and we moms seemed to do just alright with freeing our little birds.

When I was about six years old a neighbor friend of mine moved away. At the time, I'm not sure how well I knew her. I just had felt the loss of that friend not being there to play with me. When Auntie was hit by the car, it was that same feeling, she couldn't come out to play. This list seems exhaustive at times. Making friends, and them leaving. I used to like that song I learned at outdoor school, "Make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold." But they didn't teach us how difficult this is. If I make a new friend, there's less time for the old. But sometimes that old friend can't do the daily, mundane etc., because they don't live in the same town. But I do know that God is in charge of the universe and in charge of how these things go. So here is a picture of me and my friend Heidi, whom was introduced by another friend, and our circle of activities kept bumping into each other and eventually became a good friend, whom I again, had to let go away.

Now, my life experience teaches me that every friendship ebbs and flows and has it's time for closeness and distance. But I sure don't like the distance. Whether it's my college friend who lives in Chicago, Truitt in Denver, Miss Jodi in CA, and the list goes on and on. I sure hope that in heaven, there are endless walks and coffees and dinners with such friends, and of course, Jesus will always be invited (oh, I wouldn't mind running, but I wouldn't have to).
Now here I am with the "girls." "Old" Young Life kids with whom we have formed a bond of friendship that just seems to go on. This is the weekend that tall one there, introduced me to Facebook. Naughty, naughty. Facebook is like opening up a yearbook, and then actually interacting with the picture. Whoa. It's quite a world, that's for sure. I will safely leave my comments at that for now.

Babies, babies and more babies. This year brought three new "great" nieces and nephews.

Here's Em's with the baby I've seen the most, Owen. This baby is loved, for sure. I miss being the "Auntie" to help raise these babies, but am only able to see them from a distance. Facebook has made it fun to watch Owen grow. I guess I can be an internet Auntie instead.

Surveying the Cross

2009-04-12T17:50:00.000-07:00

Today, being Easter, it was a big day at our funny little church. Our band of followers sang some traditional and not so traditional songs. We listened as one of our teachers, Jack Crabtree, spoke of Jesus that had/was risen from the dead. We participated in one of our very seldom communions. But what struck me most was the emotion I felt as we began to sing the following song, "When I Survey The Wondrous Cross." I try to live the words, believe what is said in the song. Sometimes it feels like only an ideology, a belief system that seems archaic and especially when I wait year after year, day after day for the return of my Lord. But when I tried to sing this song, the words would not come out. The belief of these words is already written on my heart. I have gratitude for the Son of God who took the place of my wretched self. I will wait, impatiently, yet I will wait.

When I Survey The Wondrous Cross - Issac Watts
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ my God!
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.

See from His head, His hands, His feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

His dying crimson, like a robe,
Spreads o’er His body on the tree;
Then I am dead to all the globe,
And all the globe is dead to me.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.

Where has Travelin' Nan gone?

2009-02-19T23:17:00.001-08:00

So, my negligence to blog has put me behind the times, in regards to editing said blog. So the cover of the magazine I was just reading/drooling over, is way over there, and way small. It's hard to see me lying in the lounge chair, but that was what I was imaging.

A couple of weeks ago, our family made it all the way to Medford, staying in a brand new Homewood Suites. We lounged at the pool twice, but missed the sun that appeared that Saturday.

Yes, Travelin' Nan finally got out, albeit driving a few hundred miles South. Our destination was Gold Hill to visit Paul's dad and his lady friend.

The sun came out just south of Roseburg, the farther we drove away from Eugene, the higher temperature. We exited at Grants Pass, to show the kids the giant caveman. I urged everyone out of the car to "feel" the warmth from that wonderful orb God gave us. Ya, they were sleeping, but sun and culture were waiting. Sadly, the visitors center was closed but a nice man working on the flower beds explained the statue to us. Something about a local booster club helping keep Mr. Caveman groomed, and something about the Oregon Caves. I then talked on my soap box about community and economy, sharing the love, gettin' along, yada yada.

I can't show a photo of the caveman, as my camera's batteries were dead, and the pictures on the web of him are copyrighted (just follow the caveman link).

Last weekend, that very important Valentine's Day date, Paul and I went on a "double date" with his sister and her husband.

-----------My last Valentine's double date was in San Francisco a couple of years ago.
We stayed at the Hilton in downtown SF, with a terrific view of the city, but this photo represents the room I recall the most.
We were to meet a group of Paul's co-workers and their wives that evening at a fine restaurant. Only one couple ended up meeting us. A younger co-worker had made the reservations, and our large party dwindled done to us four. That being the case, we had a very terse tongue lashing from the manager.

Not much longer after we left the restaurant, I was feeling a bit ill. The rest of the night, was a bit of a nightmare, rather hazy, but food poisoning ended up being on the menu. I have a vague recollection of the flight back home, as I was under the the influence of Imodium, as well as the watchful eyes of Paul's coworkers whom were headed back to Eugene.

---------------------

Paul has become enamored (what's a man word for this? Is the word beer in it?) with a new movie place in town "The David Minor Theatre." It's shall I say, unique. So when he suggested this venue for Valentine's Day I thought this was a very manly attempt at romance.

Although we own the movie, we watched "The Princess Bride" at the theatre. Yes, I've heard and seen the movie, many, many times, but seeing it on the bigger screen while eating sushi and drinking champagne made it a little more romantic.

We also had a much better time with P-TayJo and TheMan than on the "blind double date" in SF.

This week, the kids caught the "Love Bug," as Doodle began getting sick on Valentine's Day, and Brother joined in with a fever on the Monday. This left plenty of time for me to wash all of the laundry and clean up the important stuff, while my students fought over the television remote.

Now, as we head into the weekend, our hope is that the rain will hold off long enough to begin the planting of the garden. I guess that means I won't be traveling for a while.

Freedom, Rhetoric and Poetry

2009-01-21T06:58:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, the kids and I were awakened by an early morning phone call (not my phone) with a request from Bella to join her at her place to watch the presidential inauguration on her big screen television. Being the dutiful friend, and enticed by the romance of red, white, and blue donuts, the kids and I headed over to partake in the history making.

On my way to get said donuts, I began to make observations of the folks who weren't in front of the TV, or listening to the radio.

Didn't they care? I thought most of Eugene voted for Obama.

What about those old guys? The TV was playing at the donut shop, but they couldn't see what was happening. Maybe they'd watch the swearing in ceremony.

What about those boys? Those wandering smoking boys in black? Didn't they want to witness history rather than goofing about?

We watched the inauguration, but what I had looked forward to was something I hadn't recalled noticing in the soundbites of previous inaugurations, and that was the reciting of an inaugural poem.

At the end of the inaugural celebration, I was glad that they mixed rhetoric with the art of poetry.

When I was six, and wanted to be a poet, the author of "Praise Song for the Day" Elizabeth Alexander, was only a few years older than me. My quick research reveals that when I was six, she lived in Washington D.C, as her father was a law professor at Howard University. At this time my dad was either an oil truck driver, or a cab driver.

Here's her poem:

Praise song for the day.

Each day we go about our business, walking past each other, catching each others' eyes or not, about to speak or speaking. All about us is noise. All about us is noise and bramble, thorn and din, each one of our ancestors on our tongues. Someone is stitching up a hem, darning a hole in a uniform, patching a tire, repairing the things in need of repair.

Someone is trying to make music somewhere with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for the bus.

A farmer considers the changing sky; A teacher says, "Take out your pencils. Begin."

We encounter each other in words, words spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed; words to consider, reconsider.

We cross dirt roads and highways that mark the will of someone and then others who said, "I need to see what's on the other side; I know there's something better down the road."

We need to find a place where we are safe; We walk into that which we cannot yet see.

Say it plain, that many have died for this day. Sing the names of the dead who brought us here, who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges, picked the cotton and the lettuce, built brick by brick the glittering edifices they would then keep clean and work inside of.

Praise song for struggle; praise song for the day. Praise song for every hand-lettered sign; The figuring it out at kitchen tables.

Some live by "Love thy neighbor as thy self."

Others by first do no harm, or take no more than you need.

What if the mightiest word is love, love beyond marital, filial, national. Love that casts a widening pool of light. Love with no need to preempt grievance.

In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun.

On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp -- praise song for walking forward in that light.

Elizabeth Alexander

Pajamas Day

2009-01-11T11:08:00.000-08:00

This morning as I sat on our leather couch in the living room, I yelled at a lady running by, "Lift YOUR legs!"

I'm still in my comfy, flannel snow globe pajamas.

I woke up not at the crack of dawn, but what seemed a reasonable hour to read the paper. Evander was up about 8A, we had some snuggle time on the couch, but just enough to cause severe sleepiness in me, and call a "do over" to waking up.

I rejoined the husband (notoriously a late sleeper) and pretended to be asleep until about 9:30A, too late for my George W. to make me coffee. It's 11:16A, and I guess I missed the barista boat (as if I'd make my own coffee).

I'm to "Part 2" of The Middle Place, and very much enjoying the read. Will share more later.

I am in the middle of eating the potatoes Evander helped me make using our corer/peeler/slicer.

Although it is Sunday, all but Paul skipped church, as Emma had a sleepover guest still here from the night before. The girls joined me for potatoes, and then hurriedly dressed for their swim meet this afternoon. The other girl's mom arrived and volunteered for chauffeur services, including the return drive. But before I could reintroduce myself to the potatoes, Paul calls saying EK has invited us to breakfast after church.

EK and her family have just begun "attending" our church, so I couldn't figure out how she invited us over, just like that. Friends for ions, I was all teary last Sunday when she and her family, including her parents, sat a few rows in front of us. I love these dear people, so it was an honor for them to be at our strange little fellowship.

So, I didn't confess to Paul that I had a mouthful of potatoes, and gladly accepted the invite. What to wear? I will stay in my pajamas.

Good Times 2008

2009-01-03T19:13:00.000-08:00

I was going to end this post with this photo, but here it is, first.

In November, I almost didn't have these two loved ones in my life. But by the Grace of God, they are still on this earth.

-----------------------------------------------------------

This post is a backward overview of my year. As in every year, and every day, I do not know what my story will be in advance. If I would have known this past year's script, I would most likely have given it back to it's Author. Perhaps I would want to give it back every year if I had a choice. But I believe that I am the creation, and that my story is being created, along with those whose paths I cross on this journey. My Creator is merciful, yet does not allow me to live and learn in this life without suffering.

Yet, here I am, accounting only some of the moments of joy I experienced over the year.

-----------------------------------------------------------

The above photo of Bella and babe was snapped at a location where I had always wanted to travel-Ft. Rock, Oregon. Otherwise known as the middle of nowhere. Just a couple weeks previously, our Cascade Lakes Relay team ran near this location, however, this was in the dark, so I couldn't see the beauty this place had to offer.

Here are some of my favorite photos from the year (Bella took some, I took some, and so did the T-man):

Evander's "friend" birthday party, rock climbing at a local school gym.

New for me this year, is the whole facebook phenomenon. A friend introduced me to fb in September, and am admittedly hooked, for better or worse. I can quit at any time. At any rate, these photos are from Em's and my wonderful November trip to Seattle.

My staged facebook photo at the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass concert.

My husband is a great get along guy.

Dan and Patty's wedding was the highlight of September.

One of my favorite photos-ever. Camping in August with great friends.

This guy lights my fire.

A fantastic day at Mt. Hope's welcoming home.

An average Oregon summer's activity.

Some of my favorite kids in my backyard for my birthday celebration.

Family Soccer Organization at it's best.

The brunch after the Eugene Half Marathon 2008.

Oh yeah, we went to Disney World with some close family friends.

This is the day we enjoyed a great fondue spread, as well as having learned about

baby Owen being on the way.

Kes cutting up with Bud at Emma's b-day celebration. Their visit include a hike up Spencer's Butte, just Bud and me while the rest of Eugene slept.

Taken at Emma's thirteenth birthday party. Just a few of the wonderful ladies who are part of the village that is helping me raise my girl.

A surprise from Indiana.

February's surprising joy in Indiana.

O Come Emmanuel

2008-12-24T07:15:00.000-08:00

I've tried to think of something profound to blog about as of late.

I've also tried to stop in this "current" of my life and think about the whole Christmas thing.

That's a river kind of "current" metaphor/analogy thing (or is that a double entendre?). Although the current I've experience as of late, is not like a "lazy river" that are built at amusement parks (shout out to Kes, Erin and Jodi my friends with whom I have had "lazy river" experience). This kind of current is the kind like in a river that seems swimable, looks easy to get to the other side, but once you start swimming you realize you're in trouble, and can't cross by yourself.

Fortunately, no Providentially, I've had those people in my life, past and present that are a gift in getting me down, across, and in that river, making a tough time seem like I should just relax in that lazy river.

Oh, that tie-into Christmas-

I missed our church's "fancy" Christmas service, and then the next day's meeting, so I haven't gotten much of the "feeling" of Christmas.

For those who know me, you know that I am a big feeler, but try to base my decisions of life on

reality, and logic. Or at least sometimes defer to Paul for advice about things I can't stop emoting about.

This season has been less about "emoting" about Christmas. I've been too preoccupied with the struggle between deciding if I'm in an overwhelming current or a lazy river.

This morning, I awoke too early for me, went upstairs and starting trying to unearth Christmas gifts. As I did so, I turned on my iTunes Christmas play list, which I hadn't listened to since last year.

To make a long story short (which is nearly impossible for me), on this Christmas Eve morn, I paused from my unearthing gift duties, to finally blog profundities regarding this Christmas season, but being Distractagirl, instead, found a sweet note from my Indy pal. Of course I had to reply and acknowledge the gift of friendship we'd been given as we're doing this waiting for Jesus thing.

Then, as I typed, I could hear the carol in the background being sung by my friend, Wynonna, "O Come O Come Emmanuel" The lyrics of the hymn follow:

O come, O come, Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan's tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o'er the grave
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, O come, Thou Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height,
In ancient times did'st give the Law,
In cloud, and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

Extraordinary

2008-11-21T21:38:00.000-08:00

Last Friday, Emma and I were on a "Girls Only" trip to Seattle. We had a wonderful time with my old, old friends who treated us like princesses. Maybe later in this week I will re account our happenings there, as a distraction from our lives current events.

Unbeknownst to me, last Friday, my friend, Bellaartgirl, wrote a post about the happenings in my family. My husband was "Riffed" last week, but I didn't have the heart to write about it then. Bella eloquently drew a picture with her words of how our family and their family were affected.

Little did either of us know or would make any sort of prediction that the next week I'd literally be on my knees helping her get from a walker into a hospital bed.

Here's part of what she wrote-

"It is amazing from one day to the next how the winds can change, the horizon flatten, the world flip. That may sound dramatic and it is but that is how it feels around here as we learned that a dear friend of ours lost their job. Their family is as close a heartbeat as you can get. We have walked so many roads together and will walk so many more. My husband works at the same company as our friend and none of us feel "secure" in our jobs. This makes the national news vivid and real.

I know that when hard things happen that they are, and can be, opportunities to grow and move on. But I think that A) no one likes it when the choice is not theirs, and B) there is still a grieving process for the change, and C) we still need to be each other's angels in the everyday and in the extraordinary."

Unplanned

2008-11-20T19:59:00.000-08:00

It's interesting when one thinks they have a plan.

My plan for this week was to tackle some of the organization in the house, and get ready for my Mt. Hope Chronicles friends to come and play.

Instead of being home, I was with my friend Bella caring for her after her accident.

I am honored to be helping her, as I know she would do the same for me. It's more difficult for me to be away from the hospital, even though I know she's in good care. Perhaps it's that we're so used to sharing a good portion of our week together- teaching the kids, field trips, recounting our weekends, doing each others dishes, finding the chocolate stash, and on and on.

The year before last, I helped teach a Bible study to a group of girls, including Emma, on the subject of trials and sufferings. Now, I knew that teaching a group of middle school girls on such a topic was a risk, but I taught on it anyway. I felt I knew the subject well, yet it was hard to convey suffering when the girls were so young, and so loved.

But perhaps this lesson was for me, again.

Looking Forward

2008-11-19T06:06:00.000-08:00

I had looked forward to blogging about recent events it my life, when all of my events and seemingly important "stuff" in life has come to a screeching halt.

My last post(written a while ago, but posted today) said if you wanted to know what I was doing, to check out my friend, Bella Art Girl's blog .

When one experiences life in community, we embrace great joys, and endure great sorrows.

I am trying not to be in a fog right now, but that is how my body responds to such a blow. One of the closest friends is in such pain. It's difficult to write much more. I want to write much more.

Please pray for my dear friend. She will need so much encouragement.

I will write a post if I can. I don't want the reality of the situation to be such, but I will only need to endure a minuscule fraction of what my friend is facing.

While I was in the emergency room with her I thought of one of the passages in the Bible where some friends of a crippled man tore open a roof and lowered him into a building where Jesus was teaching, so Christ could heal their friend.

That's what I would like to do.

The Found Notebook

2008-11-03T10:44:00.000-08:00

I did find the notebook I was looking for...It seems as though I've looked for many things this past month. Getting back to work as a homeschooling Mom has proven more difficult than I had thought. We are now on our tenth week of Classical Conversations, and I'm still trying to fit in all the work that is assigned. The curriculum of CC is good, great, wonderful work to do, but life in general in very demanding of my time(and the time vortex of facebook).

If you use facebook, I may be caught up with you, but unless you can follow the "thread" of my conversations, you'd probably say, "Huh?" in regards to the happening of my family's lives, as I have difficulty following myself as well.

In an effort to catch you up (you-one of those people who keep looking at my pages with great disappointment)with myself, I will reveal(that word makes it sound like something exciting or "juicy" will be "revealed," but not so much) what it "was" I wrote in that notebook. I do have editorial license over the content, it that, I can change what I had previously written, and add to it as well.

Here goes:

"Saturday (Oct.11) our visit to P-land was probably my quickest visit yet, as I am still recovering from my surgery. My intent to "take it easy" in recovery, seems to be going just fine. Paul drove up and back for me, and I must say I appreciated being the passenger. That's a rarity for me.

Van and I did EEL work for Classical Conversations most of the way up. I teach best when I'm strapped in, as the seat belt was suffice.

The shower for Morgan was absolutely lovely. Elsa prepared a tasty spread for the guests. Scrumptous food, and beautiful flowers were plentiful. Lindsay did confess to creating some of the georgous flower arrangements.

The guest included many of the ladies from my family, along with some of Lindsay's long time guests.

Morgan received adorable baby clothes and some entertaining toys for baby Owen. I'm fairly sure that Carlos will enjoy them also.

Although most of the ladies of our family attended the shower, I didn't have much time in the way of catch-up conversations. It seemed much like what speed dating would be like-but you're not trying to date your relative.

We did have some time with a smaller group: Matt, Elsa, Morgan, and Lindsay, post shower. Aslan the Nelson's ginormous puppy came out to play. Matt has met his match. Aslan is on of the biggest "puppies" I'd ever seen.

While Emma and I were enjoying the shower, Van and Paul took a trip to see the house that Matt and Elsa were in the process of buying."

So, that's what I was able to write during Van's grammar class three weeks ago!

Morgan hasn't had her baby yet, as he's due next week.

Matt and Elsa did get the house in Lake Oswego.

Now if you want any other details of this past month, check out my friend, Bellaartgirl's blog, we'll you'll find me and the kids.

Where Is That Notebook? The One I Wrote That Post In?

2008-10-19T18:17:00.001-07:00

I realize that ten days have passed since my last post. I'm sure I've wanted to share some great news or stories regarding the happenings of my life, but I find myself just trying to get the wind back in my sails.

I have experienced some discomfort from my surgery, and hardly any pain, for which I am grateful. I realize I had more of a fear of pain, that I had actual pain. It's interesting how we become accustomed to our "easy" life, but don't realize how easy it is until we experience discomfort.

So forgive me if I haven't been sharing, as it takes much for me to be at a loss for words.

------------------------

I did spend a good part of the afternoon laughing with another swim mom while we were timing at Emma's swim meet. Timing at a swim meet probably doesn't sound like a hoot, but this was a gift, in that, it helped relieve some of the stress of the past couple of weeks. I'm surprised that they didn't kick us out of the glamourous position of volunteer lane timers, as we had become quite loud with our laughter.

As Emma stood by us, waiting for her swim, it was refreshing to hear her response to the other Mom's statement, "Your mom's crazy!"

Emma replied, "I know," as only a thirteen year old girl who loves her mom could.

Glad to get my crazy back on.

Good Friday Art

2008-10-10T16:16:00.000-07:00

This morning, with the results of the pathology report from my excisional biopsy coming back as benign, meaning a good thing, we were off to roam the world of art.

Isn't that what most people do when they find out that their health is OK? Don't they say, "Let's go look at art."

Last week I signed us up to for a field trip to observe the art that is in the Jacob's Gallery at the Hult Center, as part of the Mayor's Art Show. Emma is a willing art observing participant, but much to Evander's unliking of art observation, he was forced into art fun. He very much likes Lily and her gang, so art observation was doable for that boy as soon as he found out they were signed up as well.

Our family and Bella's family were the only students to sign up for this field trip.

We are so modern, so hip.

Actually, it was suprisingly refreshing to look at the art with the kids. Van was most interested in a piece that used Twinkies. He said he was "scarred" by some of the naked art. It didn't seem too profane to me, but my nine year old boy just doesn't care for such artwork.

Things were livened up a bit, as I let Baby W take some picture with my camera.

"papa dolly"

We stayed at the Mayor's art show for about an hour, then made our way down "Gallery Avenue," (I just made that up) ending up at Periginos. What a good ending to a good field trip, on a good day.

It's Been Eighteen Days

2008-10-08T10:59:00.000-07:00

So, I was going to post something eighteen days ago, (it now appears on the Sunday September 21st post, as it was a little too complicated to move to todays date) but waited to do so-not sure I was ready to announce such an occasion to the world. Now that I'm a day out of surgery, and very much alive I thought I would make a summation of these past few weeks.

First, I regret to say that my attempts at living a kind life, felt a little bit manufactured at times. I would much rather have a heart that is truly kind, rather than seeming like I'm going through the motions.

Within those seventeen days, I had a big confrontation with a neighbor that proved my inability to control the universe by being kind. I feel like part of this disagreement was my responsibility, in that I had previously complained to this neighbor about their dog waking me at night, in a very complainy sort of way.

I had felt I needed to go an make amends, apologizing for the delivery of my complaint. But I didn't do so, and dealt with he consequences of their previous encounter with me. All that to say, I am imperfect, and need to make amends, ask for forgiveness when I have offended others, and know that only Christ has been the only perfect one to walk this earth. The only way I can have a ounce of kindness is by the belief and action in His commandment to love one another.

That may sound a little to "religious" for some of my blog readers, but do know that it's important for me to know why I believe what I believe, and for you as friends to have some information regarding my worldview.

My surgery went well, and the doctor said it did not look cancerous, and I expect the pathology reports on Friday. That being said, I will continue in my quest to be a person who loves, knowing that I am flawed, and that the only true grace comes from God.

Cheap Seats

2008-10-03T20:57:00.000-07:00

Back from the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival 08.

Loved the music, but I'd forgotten how diverse a crowd will show up for a free concert. Quite the sea of humanity. Peaceful, eclectic, yet, my head hurts from the "haze."

We stood fairly close to the stage, and could see the folks with the best seats at the concert-over a guarded fence, on the stage, behind the performers. We surmised that it was the fellow who bankrolls the whole concert series, and the mysterious woman I'm speculating, was the queen of the festival, Emmy Lou.

They could see. All we could see on the stage was hair. It was a hair war between Robert Plant and Alison Krauss.

I bet those two discuss hair products often.

Buddy Miller, one of my all time favorites musicians played with them. Robert Plant and Buddy Miller. Cool. Alison I assume was on the fiddle. I saw her at the end of the concert, chatting it up with mysterious Mr. and the mysterious woman.
I did give a call to Miss Kris when "Down To The River To Pray" was sung by Alison Krauss. I wish I had a voice like hers. Alison's that is. I like Miss Kris,' and she gives free concerts too. Miss Kris would sing with me, but I don't think Robert Plant would sing with me.

Although I can't say I know anything about Led Zeppelin's music, I enjoyed the way the two performer's voices blended so well together, like music butter.

By the looks of the crowd, they seemed to enjoy the Led Zeppelin's song's gone bluegrass. While I shunned such music in high school, Paul embraced it. As he knew the old music, he delighted in Krauss' and Plant's version of "Battle of Evermore."

Of course, I enjoyed being with Paul tonight, but I can't help compare with our previous HSB with the Brosamers. Not only were they excellent hosts, opening their home to us, they are incredible people. The kind of people whom you'd love to spend those ordinary days with, not just music festivals.

A Room Without A View

2008-10-03T14:15:00.000-07:00

We're about ready to be on our way to the Hardly Strictly Blugrass Festival. But I wanted to do a quick post with a photo from our hotel. Enjoy, as we are off to have a good ol' time.

More Time

2008-10-01T21:41:00.000-07:00

When you start counting the days to an event, you realize there just isn't enough time.

Not enough time to eat that yogurt, way, way, way back in the fridge.

Not enough time to mail the hat you have that belongs to your friend's baby, that she left in the van, when you went somewhere together-three years ago.

I'd like more time to hold babies and kittens.

I'd like more time to snuggle with my own kids.

I'm trying to pack my bags for a trip, but the ordinary-mundane, is keeping me from packing. It tires me.

It also tires me to stop and be with people. But it's what I love. If it's a conversation at the grocery or posing for a picture on Facebook, I just love interacting with most people.

So, I am trying to carve out time for one of my other loves, listening to live music. I must retire for the evening, as the morning comes sooner when that clock ticks.

This temporal life tick, tick, ticks so loudly, yet I need to remind myself that I'm pursuing Life for an Eternity.

When Life Gives You Apples

2008-09-24T07:45:00.000-07:00

Monday, my domestic diva friend and I decided to tackle making applesauce. Well, I asked her if she'd like to come over and we'd make it "together." The lovely apple tree in our front yard produces an amazing amount of apples for being a "dwarf" tree. So we took our boys all the way to the front of my yard and picked nearly a bushel of apples. Well, I don't know how I came to a comclusion of a bushel of apples, but we picked enough to cook three pots of applesauce.

Please note that I am using the term "we" loosely.

Most of the time, I methodically cored/sliced/peeled the apples. My friend had done the same with the apples, but with her coring/slicing/peeling 10 apples to my 1. Granted, if one knows me well, they know I am easily distracted, so I would assume she knew what she was getting into (If I say her name everyone will want to go to her house and eat applesauce{she left most of it here for us}).(By the way, I just made that whole parenthesis thing up). She was busy cooking and smooshing, and then I decided it was time to make a video for my Facebook page. I must say my friend seemed very tolerant with the distractions.

About the apple tree...

When I was growing up, my folks had a couple with whom they spent much of their free time. While he passed away a few years ago, she is still living in the Portland area. Six years ago, we invited her to our celebratory open house, yet she was unable to attend, and sent us a housewarming gift. I can't remember if she specified to buy a tree or not, yet I felt compelled to do so with the gift she had given. She always kept a beautiful garden in only about a third of the space I have in my yard. So with the check, I ended up purchasing an espalier pear tree, and then later, a dwarf apple tree.

I can't say I've taken great care of either tree, and the espalier is a mess right now, but the apple tree was so heavy with fruit this summer, it leaned over near the ground.

As busy as our family is, and with school up and running, I began to ignore this tree, in that, I knew that collecting it's fruit meant work on my part. I couldn't figure out how I was to do our schedule and actually do something with the apples. So, as the apples began falling off the tree, I decided I better not let anymore go to waste.

I have given much thought this summer to the responsibility of abundance. The tree is a gift from a friend, the fruit is a gift from God that I have to decide to make good choices with it's fruit. I can use them, share them or not do so, and let them rot.

To me, the latter is a waste, yet in all my busyness I watch them rot. It's a choice to live in this Internet speedy culture, but when I stop long enough to enjoy such moments with friends to use the gift, it is time well spent.

Seventeen Days

2008-09-21T22:16:00.000-07:00

In seventeen days I go in for a surgery, an excisional biopsy of a couple of fibroadenomas in my breast. There I said it. I don't do a very good job of keeping secrets. I'm too much of an extrovert. I just spit the quiet part out loud much of the time. Although, the older I've gotten my filter is better. Really. I think I used to say it like it is(or how I thought it was), but then could feel the shock people experienced from my "honesty". Not so much anymore. OK, not as much anymore.

As I tend to be a realist, I realized that I have seventeen days to do all those things I'm suppose to do before I die. OK, I don't plan on dying, and I'm sure my surgeon would reassure me that it's more than likely not going to happen, and I'm probably going to freak my kids out by writing such a thing (and a few other people), but it's a possibility.

On the way back from Disney World, we watched, "The Bucket List" on the plane. I was due to go get a mammogram that week, in which two fibroadenomas were found in my left breast.

After watching "The Bucket List," I didn't make a list, per se, but this kind of stuff has been mulling around in my head since at least then.

So I'm making a list, sort of. Let me think.

I started by eating steak. Steak is a good start.

I don't feel like I have to do an Ironman. I've done enough running here and there to satisfy that sort of desire.

I think I'll pick up my fiddle and play it. First I have to tune it. I guess it's back to, "Boil the Cabbages." Maybe they'll let me play at "Hardly Strictly Bluegrass" if they let people who can hardly play bluegrass on stage.

I'm working on "Love Casserole" again, remember the book I said I was writing? This will add drama to the book, maybe a whole chapter.

I went through this whole biopsy thing a few years ago, and then re accounted my life during my 39th year so, hmm. What is left on the list?

It's a list mostly about being of good character, remembering to be kind and loving to people. If only I could spend seventeen days really loving people. Showing them my gratitude. Telling them thank you for their kindnesses to me.

But my pride can get in the way of this. My hurt can get in the way of this.

I believe that I am inherently sinful, lost without the sacrifice of Christ, in my place. So I know I can't meet the standard I wish to achieve. Doesn't that mean I shouldn't try? No way.

So I'm to go around and be nice for seventeen days. We'll I guess that simplifies it. But there must be more than that?

Yes, living this life, which is a gift. Believing it's a gift from God, and that He is in control of the good and bad of it.

So do I have seventeen days to preach? Perhaps. But perhaps it's to be seventeen days of listening.

--------------

I Miss TV

2008-09-21T21:08:00.000-07:00

When I was growing up I watched TV every day. I think. I must have. Well, I'm watching TV and blogging. Why? I don't know for sure. It's the Emmys. People get awards for being on television shows, producing them, writing them. When I watched the montage with Josh Groban singing, the TV theme songs I knew most of them. What's this about?

Now I'm laughing at the Laugh In people, because it's nostalgic, yet so out of context now. I remember watching some shows when I was a kid. I thought it was funny, but I was under five. I've watched the re-runs at times, and see much more of the innuendo, if you know what I mean.

Some guy just said, "Love TV, and fear the Internet." Huh.

Then Tiny Fey was on. I like her. As far as I know. I don't want to know bad things about her. Then I won't like her.

I realize I'm writing this like I would on Facebook. Choppy, short and to the point.? I'll try not to do that on a blog post. A different time.

I like to save the blog for important things.

So in conclusion, I hold much of my worldview based on those fundamental educational beginnings watching TV. It's no wonder I'm so ADD.

Keeping Up with Myself

2008-09-18T19:03:00.000-07:00

Here are some of the mamas with whom I spent the day "educating" my children.

My Thursday for the next school year, will be as Mrs. Teague's parent/tutor helping with the "Journeyman" group at Classical Conversations. If I recall, about seventeen families have joined in the endeavour of "classically" educating our children. I'm still trying to figure out what exactly is the definition of a classical education. I just know Mrs. T is beyond being a great teacher. I'm not saying that just because she's one of my closest friends.

-------------------------------------

Last post, I wrote about my "Facebook Frenzy." I'm already tired of the competition with Paul on acquiring friends. It's almost dizzing keeping up with all those friends daily happenings. Also, I generally don't keep an account of my friends-except for inviting others to big parties and speculating who would show up for my funeral.

At the park today, I found myself scanning for potential Facebook friends. It was like, "What's your name?Do you use Facebook?"

I am curious to see how this sort of "social" networking will pan-out. I wonder if it just is a forum for smarty pants like me.

One of my FB friends commented that FB was narcissistic. Hmm? Is blogging much different?

I also wonder if these are moments I choose to occupy my time while I'm waiting for Jesus. Perhaps it's an inner conflict I'm having with making the most of every moment, and enjoying "the humor of the situation."

I've also had a little boy share with me his angst with his mother spending so much time on the computer. I've let the little boy know that I'll use the computer when he's in bed. He'll be going to be at 6PM from here on out.

Facebook Frenzy

2008-09-12T16:22:00.000-07:00

When my dear friend from Portland came down to spend the Labor Day weekend with our family, she introduced me to the world of "Facebook." Frankly, I'm not completely sure I know just exactly what it is, but I must say I'm a bit hooked. I abandoned my first Internet love, writing on my blog, for a competition with my husband to find friends on Facebook. I stopped watering the garden. I stopped cleaning the house. The "Dinner Fairy" doesn't even come to my house anymore.

I can quit any time.

Obsession is a strong word, but I don't believe I have even watched any television since I discovered this social phenomenon. Searching for old friends is such a blast from the past. All the names, and faces pop back into my memory. It's like this ongoing reunion of sorts, seeming to share, somewhat peering, somewhat observing. Wow!

So about this competition with Paul. It began entirely as a joke. He's mostly stolen all of my friends. I gladly share them in real life, but he's just over the top in stealing them from my Facebook page.

I decided I will stop trying to find friends at 100 friends. That sounds like a good, round number. I haven't ignored any friends. I don't do that too much in real life.

I do it though. I told myself, it was purely subconscious. I realized after church last week, that I had sought out a Facebook friend, and literally forgot the name of the person she was talking to, and interrupted them, as I wanted to greet my Facebook friend.

I gave it some thought, and realized that it was very wrong of me to have ignored the other woman. Not only was it impolite to interrupt, I didn't go out of my way to be kind enough to her, as she was just as easily worth my attention even though she wasn't a Facebook friend.

I've mentioned that I'm writing a book called, "Love Casserole" and I believe the Facebook phenomenon with be a part of the book, in that, this is something that is, and will affect our circle of friends, those who run in "Christian" circles, past, present, and as I'm recounting the past with others-may affect our relationships in the future.

"Did They Change the Capitals?"

2008-09-05T07:19:00.001-07:00

Seriously. I was in Evander's Classical Conversations class, and the class was working on memorizing the east coast states and capitals. I had seriously forgotten the true names of the majority of them, as if my brain had made up it's own capitals. You know, Portland, ME, Providence, RI, cities that should be capitals just because I'm familiar with their names.

I guess it's back to elementary school.

Good thing I'm the teacher.

Seriously.

Van started his Classical Conversations classes yesterday. He absolutely loved being in the classes. He asked, "Next time are you going to drop me off, then come back at lunch?" He didn't understand that I was suppose to be there and helping him learn.

He also said it was perfect, except for one thing, "Logan." Logan is probably one of the only other close friends that is not in his classes.

Overall, I'm am thrilled with CC, yet I was not as prepared as needed for the English class. The work that needs to go into the studying before next Thursday, may be lacking, in that, it may take much more time to get the work done, than my busy little schedule will allow. I'm guessing this will be the norm. So I guess, I need to do some pre-planning. Hmmm, isn't there something about "Easier said than done?".

After CC, Evander and I drove to Harrisburg to get his haircut. He had a surprise waiting for him. As we pulled up, he yelled, in surprise, "It's Jodi!" Van knows that where there's a Jodi, there's a Cooper! Sure enough, they arrived in town on Thursday, and drove up to Harrisburg from Coburg to surprise the kids.

I wish I'd taken a photo of the group hug the boys were giving each other when they were inside the salon. Unbiasedly, I must say, Cooper, Carver and Evander are so darn cute together. All the boys look so big now! (I think big is a banned word in Evander's writing class) OK, they are ginormous!

Emma was to have had her haircut by Brenda as well, but I made a mistake in the schedule, and double booked Ems. Payton seemed disappointed when Emma wasn't there also. Payton's family is busy over the week, so she may not see her for a week or so.

I'm always thrilled to see Jodi, but our conversation was brief, but hopefully we'll have longer talks while she's here on her visit.

Tumblin' Along With the Tumblin' Tumbleweeds

2008-09-03T18:23:00.000-07:00

Our Crane Praire trip was a couple of weeks ago now, and I haven't taken the time to sincerely express what a wonderful trip we had. It was so easy camping with our longtime friends. I also realize that I really am in my element when I'm camping and out in the woods. I don't have to worry about make-up or hair. I just live in the moment of the woods.

So here's some quick notes on some of my favorite photos of the trip...

First, here is the hubby doing what he loves best-starting fires. This is what's called a bird's nest. Evander and Paul started this from flint and steel. This happens when you bang a piece of steel against a rock that makes a spark. Paul and Van used charcloth to start this one, it can be done without it but it's easier to catch the spark with the charcloth..I've never really made a fire this way, but I'm guessing I will have those duties as a Cub Scout leader eventually.

Here's Cowgirl Lily, at the Cowboy Dinner Tree I loved this place! Middle of Nowhere. Chicken. Steak. Cowboy atmosphere. Matt and Rachel Wilson often play here, and live down the road.

Uncle T was on lifeguard duty on this windy afternoon at the reservoir.

We seemed to have this section of the campground to ourselves, until I noticed that the tree had some very non-tree looking creature in it. With a little investigation, our crew discovered we had this eagle observing our happenings.

Here's my good buddy, Bella, out doin' her thing. Baby on back. Middle of Nowhere with family and friends. This is the kind of friend that would agree to go to the Middle of Nowhere with Travellin' Nan.

Here's Lily and Van breaking for a moment at Ft. Rock State Park. They ran most of this evening. So fun to watch.

They had a fantastic time together while camping: biking, climbing, running, lots of fun over these few camping days.
Emma's had a rough beginning this camping trip, as she started with a nasty cold. She felt better the last day or two, even though the accommodations weren't the four star hotels we have become accustomed to....

Time Flies in a Good Way

2008-09-01T10:14:00.000-07:00

I have to say, I very much enjoy having folks stay at our home, and this Labor Day weekend, a family of friends from Hillsboro stayed with us for three nights, as their Papa Bear was competing in a bicycling event over the weekend. The Mama Bear hung out with me most of the time with the kids at our house (We did get out for some coffee breaks). Spending time with her is quite easy, as our friendship has been going strong for over twenty years now. We stay in touch, and seem to pick-up where we left off with ease. We may not live in the same town, but I am glad that we are on this parenting/wiving/life journey at the same time.

Lest I forget, as it was so Friday, Mama Bear and I meet EK at the spa for a pedicure. What fun! We brought in food, and EK was our servant girl for a good portion of the time. I must say I enjoyed the laughter with these two friends.

We then moved on to dinner at Cafe Lucky Noodle. Yummy Noodle, as always. Again, lots of fun with deep and meaningful conversation as well.

Sweet Emma was our babysitter while we enjoyed the spa, but overall the kids occupied themselves with Pokemon most of the weekend. They did explore our tree fort as well.

On Saturday, we joined EK's family for a bike ride to Riverplay Park. It was quite the little bike train we had going through town, nine bikes and a bike trailer. Fortunately, I am the only one who sustained bicycling injuries. But my pride will not let me tell this part of the story with any details.

We stayed at the park at least a couple of hours, as the kids seemed to have a blast playing with each other on the play structure. Emma did not join us, as it seems she may be a bit playgrounded out at thirteen. We ate a picnic lunch, and the adults acted like cats sitting in the sun just soaking it up.

Thoughout the weekend, I made so much food, and ate so much food. Yes, I can cook-to some degree. We are a group of fairly healthy eaters, so I have many leftovers of all the food I cooked-with hopes that the leftovers do not to mold in the fridge. Perhaps I won't have to cook for a couple of weeks.

The biggest treat of all this weekend was that we were able to have a reunion of sorts. Mama Bear, with another gal, (I'll call her Swong) was part of a group I took up to Malibu College Prep Week this time of year twenty years ago. We met here with another Sheldon Young Life friend, EK, and both their families. We ladies chatted it up, while the men folk tried to stay up with us...

Sometimes I've wondered if I did the right thing spending so much of my time with Young Life activities in college etc., But as we laughed and caught up on Sunday, I had this confident joy in knowing that it was time well spent. The benefit is that now, we not only have a connection of being "Sisters in Christ," we have a history and longevity of friendship that will always hold these "girls" close to my heart.

Heads Up

2008-08-29T06:23:00.000-07:00

I think my head is still up...

I just spent a couple of hours on the Internet browsing blogs of my friends. I haven't spent much time doing such this month, as the days have flown by for us.

We returned on Tuesday the 26th from a wonderful camping trip to Central Oregon. I will save this story, as I am preparing for the next adventure of weekend guests. If you must have a preview, my friend at PilgrimAkimbo has a great summary of his perspective of the trip. Also, Bellaartgirl has a photo of us on one of our showerless camping days...

My house cleaning has been anything but this last month, so for the past few days our family has tried to dig ourselves out of our moving on from one thing to the other. It doesn't look like this lifestyle will slow down much in the near future. I very much have a "live life to the fullest" philosophy, that often leaves me with the title of "Queen of Moving On." I will blog about this sometime, but that comment is so yesterday.

After one of those early morning wake-ups, I will attempt to make it through the day, without napping, hoping to be prepared for my guests.

No, I Didn't See an Orca

2008-08-20T08:57:00.000-07:00

I know it might be old news, but I had a wonderful vacation with friends at Orcas Island at the beginning of the month. So instead of going into great detail of our vacation, I decided I'd list my top favorites during the week.

Ferry ride-The ferry ride to Orcas created a wonderful transition from the busy world to the quiet life of the island. I loved that we gathered together chattily catching up, anticipating our week together.

Location-I can't say enough about how beautiful the landscape is on Orcas Island. I didn't do any running, but walked down the road from where we were staying, and stopped long enough to admire a beautiful farm scene with a old rustic barn, long, waving grasses, with the sun hitting it all in just the right light. Beautiful.

Food-I just had the thought that I didn't really do much cooking during this week-so out of the ordinary for me. I did free the steamed clams from their shells for Paul's Famouser Clam Chowder ( I don't want to infringe on trademark slogans). I was spoiled rotten with our in-house meals-pulled pork sandwiches, Greek lamb, tri-tip steak. The dinner fairy was good to me.

Our meals out as a group included visits to two great restaurants. We had a great Thai dinner at Thai Sisters Cafe, and ended our last evening out at Lu-Lu's Pasta Rustica. Either restaurant I would send friends to enjoy wonderful dinners. It was also amazing that they could seat all thirteen of us at each place.

Friends-Spending a week with three families can be challenging, but with such a quality group of folks, the upside of sharing a vacation outweigh the logistics of figuring out the itinerary for the day.

(Notice those young fellows in the garden in their leather skirts.)
Romance- Due to those great friends, Paul and I were able to head into town by ourselves a couple of times. My favorite spot ended up being Kathyrn Taylor Chocolates. It's a fabulous chocolate shop in Eastsound that I absolutely enjoyed (only a couple of chocolates and mochas). The shop was about as big as my living room, with wonderful woodworking, and with the smell of the chocolates (I'm sorry that I don't have scratch and stiff on my blog)!

Nick and Kate-a most unusual encounter with hitchhikers (no Kate, I won't tell your mom). These were the kind of hitchhikers you spend the day with and then invite to dinner. A nice young couple from Brooklyn, and other points on the globe.

Here is some of our group, with Nick and Kate admiring Evander's new tie-dye socks we purchased for the sake of art.

Turtleback Mountain- I had finally stopped sleeping and was ready for some adventure. We went on a group hike on Turtleback Mountain.The majority of the group made it to about where this picture was taken. Five of us continued up and over-over a six mile hike. I'd never hiked that far, and absolutely loved it! Perhaps I'll take up hiking when I retire.

Just A Day at the Beach

2008-08-17T16:08:00.000-07:00

I haven't given much of a run-down of our vacation at Orcas Island, but that will come...

This weekend, we hosted my brother, Bob, and his wife Jan for a visit. It started out as an ordinary visit. They came in on Friday evening, we had a meal together at my home, and did some catch-up chatting on our lives and such. We took a walk down the road to pick blackberries, and had the opportunity to have our neighbor friends meet our guests.

Saturday morning, we drove across town to Cornucopia for breakfast. We really enjoy their breakfasts, and claim this place to be one of our favorite breakfast spots in town.

After a leisurely breakfast, we made our way to Florence for the day. The temperature in Eugene was to soar, so we headed for the cool weather. In Florence, the temperatures were in the 60's with some wind, so we didn't plan on swimming at Cleowax. Instead, we first walked around old town. We headed to a coffee shop, where Bob treated us to a coffee. We also had a "celebrity sighting," and I snapped a quick photo of one of the "stars" in our life. After our foray in town, we then decided on heading to the South Jetty. We were dawdling as we arrived at the jetty. It was quite windy, and we were getting set for a little walk to the beach, putting on jackets and such. As we readied ourselves, Van had his scooter out, thinking maybe he could scooter in the gravel, when a small blue car came sliding in on the gravel near him, then peeling out as they left. I was a taken back a bit as I saw this as a stupid teenager being an unsafe driver, disregarding others, and endangering our son.

As we were looking in the direction that the car went, we noticed some smoke billowing from the dunes about a quarter mile away. There were a few of us that made the observation, stating the obvious, "That looks like a fire." It seemed so out of place, with black smoke billowing, and then we began seeing the giant flames.

After the incident with the gravel, and as we were watching the fire, another young man drove up, stating that those teenagers we had just seen, had sent a firework out of their car, having started the fire.

I called 911 on my phone. The line was busy. When I was able to connect, the dispatcher asked if it was about the fire, and then hung up, after I said, "Yes," but before I said, "but..." as I was also giving her information about the possible suspects.

In the meantime, no fire fighters had arrive, and we as a group made a decision to drive out, rather than stay. I'm not convinced that was the wisest choice, but when we decided to go, we made it in the nick of time. The flames became bigger, and moved faster, and Paul made the "Better Go Now" move with the car, as we yelled for him to drive faster. When we passed the fire which was to the right of us, we felt the heat of the fire through the car. Scary to say the least(In the picture you can see the fire had jumped the road).

With the adrenaline going, and me taking some Mama time to calm the children, we decided to go to the other side of the jetty to watch the fire. We all seemed a bit PTSD from the fire, but really were on to the next event. Uncle Bob set the swinging example, but didn't get a photo of him. It helped release some of the stress of our previous activity.

Again, hard to top that off, but we did end up at Mo's to eat chowder.

The temperature didn't climb as quickly as it did when we drove by the fire, but driving back into Eugene the thermometer rose at least 30 degrees. We were glad to be welcomed to an air-conditioned home.

So, what do you do with visiting guests after you drive through a fire?

Well, I served them a tasty, yet uneventful dinner. But the best part of the dinner was Aunt Jan's pie. My camera couldn't do the pie justice, hence no picture. That pie was yummy, yummy. We used the blackberries that we had picked on Friday. "We" as in I observed Jan as she made the pie. In my mind I helped her.

Sunday, we had our regular breakfast for guest fare-including bacon, and my "homemade" twisted pastries. Jan and I enjoyed our breakfast to the "pitter patter" of the rain on the patio. OK, it was loud pouring down rain that interrupted the quiet of our conversation.

After breakfast, Bob, Jan, Evander and myself headed for Alton Baker for a tour of the park, and a chance for Evander to really ride his scooter.

Now I wonder how I'm going to top the next guests' visit?

The End

2008-08-14T21:48:00.000-07:00

After my run, I was whisked into the van so we could go cheer on our Canadian friend's husband on his last run. But what happened at this exchange point with another team, well, is not "Cub Scout" friendly (I try to keep my blog "G" rated.) All I can say is the Hula-gans outdid their night time cheering section with a stunt involving rip-off pants.

--------------------------------

I can't remember at what point "we" stole the Seamonkey's mascot, a large round monkey looking stuffed animal. I must say "we,"as in my encouragement to commit the crime, I became an accomplice. I believe someone had remarked at the beginning of the race that we should steal it. Now, mind you, we ladies appear to be upstanding commandment abiding citizens, yet it was too tempting not to hold that monkey for ransom.

Mrs. G was all too happy to duct tape it to the the back of the van-with a note, and a remnant from the Hula-gan's shenanigans.

It took the Seamonkeys a long time to figure that we were the culprits that stole their beloved monkey. Perhaps it was the, "No, we didn't steal your monkey," with Mrs. G's Cheshire Cat grin on her face that led them to believe that.

It took a reconnaissance team to get their monkey back, but they never did pay the ransom. They said that they didn't negotiate with terrorists.

(Remember this photo? It has that great foreshadowing that happens only in novels-or cartoons!)

After our eyes stopped burning from the Hula-Gan's stunt, EK was on a kamikaze mission to get to the showers. Yes, we definitely needed showers, but had to remind EK that is was not at all costs. She ripped up that mountain with such fervor, and sped down that mountain to Bend, like it was imperative that every one of us removed the sweat and dust we had accumulated within the past day.

For those that still had a sense of humor left after the race, the after party proved fun cheering other teams into the finish. Of course our team ended with a flair of the dramatic as our last runner donned only a mask and American flag shorts. In the end, we won our division, and placed twenty second overall as a team.

-----------------------

Now that you've read my version of the relay, here is the Bend Bulletin's story (which I honestly was an unnamed source).

Lastly, thanks to our team captain for keeping everything afloat and for being in charge!

Not Done Yet

2008-08-14T07:40:00.000-07:00

So I'm to my third leg of the Cascades Lake Relay. The time between the previous leg, and my last leg is somewhat of a blur. If I remember correctly, the temperature seemed somewhat moderate to start, and the route was up, and somewhat down at times. Kinda like life I guess...

The route finally began to head towards Bend, and some bicyclist were passing me as they went up, and then down the mountain. I recall saying something to the effect of, "You've got it easy!"

They didn't appear to think so...

What made this leg different than I thought, is that I thought it was a five something mile run. It's funny what you can think when you are sleep deprived, and running in the heat, at a higher elevation. I had been razzing my new Canadian friend about how she got the primo short run, and I had the much longer run as the ending leg-even though I was older than she. She took my ribbing with grace.

So when I went out for this run, I just planned one putting one foot after the other, and the run taking a bit longer than usual.

I was soon passed by a high school girl, who startled me as she whizzed by, as I didn't hear her coming from behind. I was overly surprised ( I acted kinda like a chicken does when surprised), as my senses were out of whack. She apologized, and I echoed her "Good job" and she zoomed past me.

I was getting quite warm, and noticed that about twenty feet down the side of the road was a creek. I had a Bear Grils moment thinking, "Now would be the time to get water." But no, I skipped the scramble down. I knew my teammates wouldn't appreciate the time it took to do so, and there was an impending danger in such an act.

I continued my run, two other ladies passed me,(I would be considered roadkill to them) yet I continued with my slow but steady pace. My van ladies had stopped to cheer and give me water, EK dumping it on my overheated head (Hooray for Mrs. G's ability to use a spigot). At the last van assist, EK told me I had about a mile to go. I thought she was trying to pull some reverse psychology on me trying to motivate me to go faster (Remember, at this point I had maybe seven hours of sleep in two days). I say, "Do you think I'm stupid?" Not normally the tone I take, but I knew her game!

So I ran a little farther, not too far behind one of the ladies that passed me (didn't know why she was in such a hurry) when I started to notice that everyone had gather at the end of the hill I was coming down. I thought that they must me cheering on the other's for their last mile. I ran another quarter mile or so thinking that maybe it could be the end. I was down to about an eighth of a mile thinking, "He sure looks ready for the exchange." I did speed up, and slapped that bracelet on him. Quickly turning to my teammates wondering if they had conspired to let him run some of my leg. I wasn't done yet! I had held back thinking my leg was a couple miles longer than it actually was, as it was only 3.9 miles. It took much convincing that there was no conspiracy to shorten my run. Our team captain said something to the effect of, "I've never heard anyone complain that their run was too short!"

Good Job

2008-08-13T15:24:00.000-07:00

After the run in the dark, at about three something in the morning, we headed for our sleeping area in LaPine. I decided to "sleep" inside the car, as we had about three hours before EK's leg. The younger ladies slept outside, where it hovered above the freezing level. Our three hours of rest turned to two hours, as our Van 2's Silver Fox had run so fast we had to get moving.

The sun had come up by this time, and EK had a nice long run, while the rest of the ladies in the van began the "Good Job" brigade. We were all quite loopy, and were even forgetting to give our runners water after their run. But that didn't stop Mrs. G from her elequent, encouraging, "Good Job" as we passed the runners. For some reason, her delivery had struck a funny bone in a couple of us ladies and we giggled at every passing. Much better that the laughing gas at the dentist office.

Last week, I watched the movie, "Hancock" and "Good Job" became even funnier than the context of the movie.

So we giggled our way to our last runs, especially at Mrs. G's "Give it up." Not to be confused with, "Why don't you go ahead and give up because our team is much faster than yours."

Guess you had to be there.

But my Cascade Lakes Relay story is not over. More to come.

Mosquito Send-off

2008-08-13T08:03:00.000-07:00

On Friday the first, as the sun set and our team was ready to start our next section of the relay, we had to say goodbye to our new friends we had met at Silver Lake-the mosquitoes. We were waiting for the Silver Fox to run in and send EK off into the sunset, then they came out of no where. The swarming mass seemed to enjoy the fact that we had put repellent on, as they were on a different kind of sports adventure. We swatted at the bugs on each other, as we stood waiting at the exchange. We gave a short congratulations to the Silver Fox, who was then quickly surrounded by his adoring mosquito fans.

So began the darkness.

We followed our runners with the van lights on, often leap frogging ahead or following directly behind so the runner could see what was in the road. Each of the runners faced a rutted, dusty road, and altogether ran about thirty-six miles in the dark.

The van ride was interesting as EK began her run at my normal bedtime. She was first, and I was to run last. This is where our conversations became, less lucid and more "interesting?" I spent most of this time in the back of the van, attempting to sleep when I wasn't being used as ottoman.

I wasn't quite conscious enough before the exchange, in that I realized needed to use the powder room to freshen up right before it was my turn to run. The driver quickly drove me ahead, but our bionic runner made it to the exchange just as I had put on my lip gloss. So I hurried to meet her and out of the light of the giant spotlights into the dark. I quickly realized that I had left my headlamp in the van. I paused for a moment, but new that the ladies would follow shortly after.

As I began my route on pavement near the Paulina Mountains, all that I could see were the lane lines and the stars above the tree line.

One step after the other I began a gradual uphill, yet my teammates hadn't followed with the light. I ran a bit faster than normal those first five minutes. I also had a great time of reflection, in that, I had to trust whatever was my story in the road ahead. Was it a pothole? A mountain lion or other wild animal that would end my life's journey?

I looked at the stars so far away, yet was comforted by knowing that whatever my "fate" on the run, I had to trust the Maker of those stars.

The ladies in the van did catch up to me, and so did the Hulagans. I didn't understand why their van was out there, as they didn't have a runner in sight. At one point their van pulled up ahead, seeming to wait for their runner, but as I passed, they cheered. I said thank you. Then I saw a different kind of moon.

I was taken aback by this tomfoolery, so much so I lost a bit of focus, reminding myself that I should try and find the humor of the situation rather than having my sensibilities offended.

Shortly after this incident, my van checked in with me, and then said a Hulagan was behind me-fifteen yards. Before I knew it, she passed me going uphill. It seemed I never recovered from that non-celestial greeting.

Thru Travel Not Advised

2008-08-12T21:20:00.000-07:00

Here's my new Canadian friend before she headed down this very long, hot and dusty road. She ran almost nine miles on this road, whereas I ran a little over the last five it.

I estimate that she ran during the time of the "Great Badger Showdown." A woman from the Hulagans said a badger chased her down the road. She said that she came down with heat stroke not long after. Must have been the stress of the wildlife encounter. She should have taken a picture of herself.

The story of the chase down is rumored to be so enthralling that a person using a port-a-potty while the woman shared her story right outside the potty, chose to sit and listen to said story rather than exit. People clearly don't get out in the woods enough.

On this run is where my handy-dandy waist belt came in handy, as I used my water spritzer on this run. At first the sprayer was quite handy, but as I became hotter, all the spritzing I did just made me have to, well, it gave me the "Gotta go right now" urgency. I stopped spritzing and took care of nature's call before the officials' cars came by.
I did receive an encouraging, "Only one mile to go!" from an official gal who was inside her air conditioned Audi. Easy for her to say. The official guy in the other car reminded me of those sweepers when I did the Nike run-good looking guys pointing the old lady the way to the end. He asked, "You alright?" Of course I huffed, "Yes." I didn't ask, "Would you be alright if you were out here?"

I ran leg six, finishing the run at the 85 degree mark. My experience was that the farther I ran up the road, the less the trees attempted to provide shade. I saw no mirages, but I was happy to have done the training I did on those very hot days in Eugene. I felt this training helped me know I could handle the heat. I hadn't trained on such a running surface, but I kept my slow but steady pace. I did wear my Garmin watch, and it said that I ran hundreds of miles. I forgot to turn it off at the end of my run. So, I couldn't tell my pace and I couldn't tell if the elevation slowed me down.

I would like to say I enjoyed the beauty of this particular leg, but I just recognized that it was hot and I needed to put one foot in front of the other. I did appreciate my peeps with the water and woo-hoos, and for fixing my iPod when I floundered with it at the start of my run.

Here is the team at the Silver Lake rest area. I tried to sleep but became enthralled with a couple that were singing in the park. I love bluegrass, old time country, and folk music. Although my teammates may have found them annoying while they were trying to sleep, I loved the interruption.

Matt and Rachel Wilson of Silver Lake Oregon

So It Began

2008-08-12T17:04:00.000-07:00

This photo doesn't look like much to the non-participant's eye, but this photo has race historic significance. These people aren't just standing around. This was the beginning of the race, and the beginning of the friendly rivalry amongst these three teams. This is a photo of our team along with the Sea Monkeys and the Hulagans. The Sea Monkeys have just attached their precious mascot to their car. Notice that our blond friend seems to be mesmerized by the monkey. More later on the significance of the photo...

So at the end of the first leg of the race, a new friend and I were bonding by the information kiosk, while my old buddy EK was kickin' it in up mountain. EK took on quite a bit of mileage this race, and did wonderfully. We had a great time in the van together, and she only made me spew out my water once while I was in a post race delirium.

And So the Story of Van One, Leg Six Begins...

2008-08-12T12:17:00.000-07:00

The adventure of the Cascade Lakes Relay started the evening of Thursday July31st. Our welcoming sign at the Ray's in LaPine Oregon confirmed that this event was really happening. If I recall correctly, this is where we called ourselves, "Sports Adventurers." Perhaps this gave us a reason why we had uprooted ourselves from our home and families.

The story goes something like this...

After picking up one of our runners in Black Butte, we ate our first meal together in Sisters at Martolli's Pizza. The ladies of "True Grit Natives" then met up with the men of our team as we spent the night in cabins on Lemolo Lake.

Our team's start time was at 8:30A, needing to be there an hour before the start for "check-in," leaving us with a wake-up time of 6:00AM. Not too early of a time, if it weren't for not sleeping well the night before. When I did sleep, my anxiety about the race and fear of injury lead me to dream, or think that I was going into renal failure. Although this condition would have rendered me unable to compete in the relay, I had to convince myself it was only a dream.

Nancy's Sleeping

2008-08-07T07:45:00.000-07:00

It was a week ago that I set off to compete in the Cascade Lakes Relay. Time flys. I will post about the race, but for now I'm catching up. It seems like I spend time either catching up, or moving on...I'm on Orcas Island right now, and only a few spots have wireless internet. This is the first day I have attempted to write a post so here goes...

A few other runners and myself drove back from Bend on Saturday evening, still exhausted from the race. We ended up having the Canadian contingent of the team stay over at our house. I wasn't able to be as hospitable as I would like, as we were to leave for Washington bright and early on Sunday.

The third of August, our family headed north to Orcas Island, Washington to vacation with friends for a week of respite on the water. During our travel north, I was rather short with my family, and out of sorts when we left home, as our goal was to catch the 2:45PM ferry to Orcas Island. I let our Canadian friends know they could stay as long as they liked. I think I actually gave them our house.

I slept, and grumped all the way north, making it to the ferry, as we were one of the last cars on board. We met up with our friends, and I had to make the transition between exhausted sports adventurer to "Travelin' Nan."

I spent the first couple of days at Orcas eating and sleeping. If I remember Monday at all, it went something like: Sleep in. Eat. Take a nap. Eat. Go to bed. Not a great vacation companion, but I did start waking up on Tuesday.

The joke around the house was a quote from our friend Silas, "Nancy's sleeping. Nancy's sleeping like tractor at Fernwood School."

Wacky Weekend

2008-07-27T21:52:00.000-07:00

Friday-Nancy and GMa volunteering at swim meet.

Free drinks at the new Dutch Bros. near our house for Paul and Nancy.

Kids with GMa for dinner and sleepover/pillow fight.

Saturday-Pick-up kids from GMa.

Make breakfast/bacon.

Van to karate.

Jungle removal.Tree house finishing?

Paul volunteering at swim meet.

Nancy running away from bear.

Nancy, Bunko at Grandma Judie's with Patty's peeps.

Sunday-Church-watching kids, eating watermelon.

Afternoon naps, talk of cleaning, finishing tree house?

Volunteering as recycle lady and sir at swim meet.

Prince Pucklers as a reward for saving the Earth.

Kids sleeping in tree house for the first time!

Did I miss anything?

I Met a Bear In Tennis Shoes

2008-07-26T21:15:00.000-07:00

Well, actually I was in running shoes and the bear was about two hundred yards away, not appearing to be wearing any shoes at all.

So here's the story...

I had to run a long run this weekend, as next weekend I participate in the Cascade Lakes Relay, an insane relay from Diamond Lake to Bend. Twelve people running about two hundred miles in about twenty four hours...desert, high country, woods, who knows...

I decided running up and down Willamette street here in Eugene would be good practice for almost any part of the relay. Last year, I had practiced the downhill for the Hood to Coast, but had avoided the uphill, because not any of my relay legs were uphill. I don't know what my legs are this year, so I have practiced some in the heat of the day, and up and down some of Eugene's nasty hills.

Today, I started at Amazon Pool, as I had left Paul to help with the swim meet. I began my run by calling my pal EK to tell her my endeavour, and to acclimate to the heat as I walked at talked. I began running about a quarter mile out of Amazon when I immediately felt a wet sensation running down my backside. The water bottle I chose to run with didn't have the right lid on it, so the water sloshed all over the back of my shorts and down my legs as I ran. I usually run with a full water bottle, and for some reason thought dumping half of it out would stop the leakage. I did a little, and fortunately it was pushing ninety degrees, so the water was drying fast.

Also, I had recently bought new shoes, as well as having had my podiatrist mess with my orthotics. The result of the two changes were that my foot going painfully numb. So from mile one, it was numb for most of the run, and I almost stopped at one point, as it seemed that my ankle decided to join in on the fun.

So I ran with this numbing past the trail head of the Ridgeline Trail, about three miles into the run. I ran about another half a mile, noticing the hill going up and up, but then as I went up and up, I pondered making it to the Spencer Butte parking lot, which was up more. But my foot was numb enough that I was contemplating whether or not I should stop and put my orthotic in my pack, thinking that might stop the numbing.

So as I was cogitating I stopped, was looking up the hill toward the top, and then said to myself,

"That's a bear."

He looked at me.

I looked at him.

He sized up me.

I sized I up him.

He said to me, "Why don't you run? I see you ain't got any gun."

And so I slowly walked backwards, away from the bear as he crossed Willamette. I'm assuming he saw me. I was wearing a white hat, a bright fuchsia running top, and light blue shorts. He didn't seem to confuse me for a salmon.

I slowly walked backwards, thinking there wasn't much I could really do. He was a bear, and although I had my handy pack with a Nutragrain Bar, Sports Beans, a dollar, and my cell phone, I couldn't do much to protect myself from a bear. He could run faster than me, even downhill. While I was backing down the hill, I had the brilliant idea to snap a picture of the bear while

I kept completely calm as, again I didn't stand a chance against a black bear. I guess I could have squirted him with my squirt bottle like one does to cats.

I kept walking backwards, and waited to run, as I did see him cross the road, and into the bushes. I ran a little, turning around, making sure he wasn't chasing me.

I wasn't wearing my heart rate monitor this afternoon. I would have loved to see my heart rate as I saw the bear, but like I said, I remained rather calm.

OK, I was somewhat motivated to get down the butte, but wished that I had a little more adrenaline for someone who just saw a bear.

I had at least a three miles run to return to the pool, and was becoming somewhat dehydrated, as I had drank all of my half-bottle of water. Fortunately, I had a dollar bill in my pack earmarked for just a time. I knew that a Dari Mart sits at the bottom of the hill, hence, I took my hot body and face in to buy some sort of sports drink to make it the last half mile or so to the pool.

On returning to the pool I immediately told the bear story to those who'd listen. It's too bad I took a picture of myself, and not the bear. It's a good thing I was so calm.

Oh, did I mention this event happened today at Amazon?

Teddy Bear Picnic
Saturday, July 26, 11:00 - noon, Amazon Center, 2700 Hilyard
Bring snacks or a picnic lunch and enjoy live music and fun with the McCornack’s Garden Variety Band. Bring your teddy bear or favorite stuffed friend!

Garbage Gal

2008-07-24T18:09:00.000-07:00

I spent the afternoon sorting through garbage. Now, I could do this at my own home, but this was volunteering at a championship swim meet. It's a long/short story about how I created this job for myself, but I did.

So the sorting went something like opening the garbage cans and putting the recyclables in the recycle container. Then, I opened the recycle container, and put the non-recyclables into the garbage. I sorted here and there, but ended up at the back of the building, standing in front of the dumpster sorting through the bins, then dumping the garbage out in case I missed anything. I guess this sort of sorting is my way of being in control of the universe. I didn't cry about all the garbage being thrown away-the plastic forks and plates etc.

All this to say, people cannot read. Granted, we are trained to put things in the "Trash" but I watched as people were drawn to throw their garbage away, but didn't pause to read the container.

I only got a little gunk on me. Only where it was obvious, on the front of my shirt. I thought I'd wet it down and dry it with those high speed dryers they have at the pool. No, they don't have the high speed dryers anymore. So I walked around with a big splotch on my shirt, hoping no one thought that I'd got that splotch from digging through the garbage.

I won't tell the long story about how I got the garbage job, but I have to say that Van's Cub Scout den is working on it's conservation patch this Summer, so I feel compelled to walk the talk. Van, however, was busy at the pool being buried up to his chest in sand while I was the garbage gal.

Also, at home I have stacks of plastic under my sink, and in the laundry room that can be recycled, but don't go into our regular bin. Paul throws them away when I'm not looking. They are also floating around in my backyard. But to put them in their proper place, I have to drive them across town to the Weyerhaeuser facility. I guess I could put them on my bike, but it's about six miles to the facility. I guess that trip would always be something to blog about. I can hear myself say, "Hey kids, you want to ride across town to take the recyclables to the dump?" I guess if I'd bribed them with Prince Pucklers that might help...

Right now I feel compelled to drive back over to the swim meet to make sure all the recycled water bottles have their lids off. I wish I were kidding. I guess this is one thing I get OCD about. Just don't come looking in my sock drawer, or Van's room, or the upstairs closet, or my closet or...

Back to Work

2008-07-23T12:04:00.001-07:00

So, I ended the evening of "Mama's Day Off"eating my meal from three forks in the parking lot of Woodfield Station. I inadvertently picked up only one chop stick. A bit of a challenge to eat slippery noodles. So why the strip mall parking lot? Well, I had been wanting to go check outWow.

As I entered Party City, an overwhelming smell of plastic permeated the building. Yuck. The place has every sort of decoration one might need for any sort of party. It is the pinnacle of American gluttony. If little Johnny wants a Cars party, that's where you go. If Suzie wants a giant Disney Princess pinata, there you go.

They also stock gobs and gobs of candy. I love candy. I don't love plastic smell. So did I leave in protest? No, I bought the plastic serving spoons I had seen advertised in the paper. Handy for potlucks. I also bought a Sterno-like candle for fondue or s'mores. In the future, I'll look at the local Hirons before I make my purchases at Party City.

After Party City, it was pushing 8:00PM. I'd been off duty for almost twelve hours. But that didn't stop me. The sun was setting, but I stopped into the Borders to see if they had the Jane Kirkpatrick book that I didn't have-the one I was suppose to get two birthdays ago... They didn't have it in stock, so I went home and started reading,

this Jane Kirkpatrick book, ending my evening reading and taking a bath.

This still moment reminded me that I could have done with a little more "quiet time" during my, "Mama's Day Off."

Mama's Without the Babes

2008-07-23T09:15:00.000-07:00

Well, I made it through “B aby Mama," a good laugh for a middle aged mom on “Mama's Day Off”. Bella and I laughed pretty hard. I don't agree with the ethics of “It's OK to have a baby if your not married.” It would be a very difficult job that is for sure. As much grief as I give my husband, I certainly wouldn't want to parent by myself. Not only would I not get an opportunity to have a “Mama's Day Off” I would be a way worse mother from the stress of it all. My stress generally is related to getting tired of the kids' agenda all the time. The kids don't appreciate some of my favorite activities, like St. Vincent de Paul shopping.
So we watched the movie, and I came home to get my “Baby,” that is my Mac of course. I started to blog in the driveway, then my friend pulled up with Evander, so I said hello to everyone from inside the car, and then ran away. I do feel a little guilty about the running away part. I just felt like my day off wasn't done.
So here I sit, preparing this blog, outside of three forks wok and grill, in south Eugene. I really like the food here, but the kids and Paul get a little tired of it. So, off I go to order something good.

Thrifty Mamas

2008-07-22T15:19:00.000-07:00

So we made it to the St. Vincent de Paul's. It's amazing how they just store all the things I need in one place! We pa roused the aisles for about an hour. Of course, I eyeballed the furniture, as it was on sale. It doesn't looked too much different that the pieces I'm having Paul look at, which are at Edmans.

I bought some brand new Jane Austen books with Barnes and Noble labels still on them. I also purchased a Walden book that matched the Austen book covers. Do I think I will ever read them? No. But I learned to appreciate Walden in high school. I got the jist of the whole Walden concept.

I also found these cute dessert cups that I thought would make great votive candle holders. Emma saw them as dessert cups.

I also found a really cool old Tennyson book of prose about a princess. I can't wait to see how much it's worth on E-bay. Someone did rip one of the pages out. It probably the page that says it belongs in the Library of Congress.

By the way, I get an extra discount on books for being a homeschool teacher. I get discounts even at the discount store. I like that.

OK, so I'm sitting in my car outside my house again. Yet, I have no children in the house, only my husband is in there. Why am I out here?

I could stand a little more "quiet time, but Bella and I are stealing EK's idea of going to a movie. I must admit, I am going to Baby Mama. It is PG-13, and may be a little too racy for me, but perhaps I'll give an ethical review after watching it.

Perhaps I'll go and break the one rule in the whole wide world that I think is worth breaking-that is, bringing outside food into the theatre. Really, that's the only rule. OK, maybe I do eat yogurt while driving.

Tantalizing Target

2008-07-22T12:23:00.000-07:00

So the next stop in my "Mama's Day Off" was at the Springfield Target. I cruised up and down most of the aisles looking at all the do-hickies. I was mostly concentrating on looking for furniture for storage of the d0-hickies I already have at home. I found a couple of handy things, which I'll post pictures of later when my teenager can help me.

I am excited about a four dollar clock I bought. My friend is always telling me I need more clocks in my house. I generally don't like to know what time it is. It just means I'm running out of time to do the things I want to do, and I'm spending too much time doing the things I don't want to do.

So back to Target, I get easily mesmerized in Target. I do a fairly good job of not spending too much money, but don't mind spending to save(check out the concept of "spaving" on Triangulations). I'd spend way more on cool things if I had a never ending budget, but I do believe my husband would say that there is an end.

So I shopped in Target for close to two hours, with only a few phone calls. One call was from EK lamenting how she missed the boat this morning.

I called Van asking which kind of sock her preferred, crew or ankle. He said he liked the colored ones grandma bought him. I told him I would bring home a package of crew, and a package of ankle to choose from. No special socks for a nine year old.

Another call was to Bella, as she I are about to go thrift store shopping. Could be dangerous.

Right now, she's in my house feeding all the children. I am outside the house blogging. I have wireless access. Here we go!

Alone?

2008-07-22T08:45:00.000-07:00

I find myself in one of my favorite places, alone. Alone? Yes, alone. I'd tell you where I am, but I wouldn't be alone.

Alright, if you insist. I'm at Fifth Street Public Market, at

drinking cafe au lait in a bowl, and eating a pain au chocolat. Today is "Mama's Day Off." I know, it is not declared as a national holiday, but it's my holiday, so I'm starting it off with coffee and a pastry (oh, I forgot to ask for decaf).

Actually, I was scheduled to go to "Ladies Week" with my good friend EK, but I boged on her. I didn't want to spend the day basking in the sun with all of the ladies. I love the ladies, but spending some time by myself sounded more like what I need right now.

If any of you know me well, you know I am an extreme extrovert. It's a wonder I don't walk around inside out...But sometimes, I need some time without an entourage.

If I were to spend my day off at home, the magic of the day off would only last a little while, as the work is almost always calling me.

So at Provisions, I prefer to look at the pretty things, to listen to the chatter of the workers and the hum of the refridgerator, and to spy on the people whom also enjoy this place.

Not only do they sell food here, but gift items as well. Right now, I can only look at the pretty things here, as I left my wallet at home. That's what happens when I don't have an entourage I guess. They usually line me up with my glasses, keys, wallet, etc.......

Not a big surprise to me, but I realize sitting here seeing the pretty things, I think of friends I would give them to...The lemon soap to Carla, the cafe au lait bowl to Jodi, the pretty paper to my new friend Heidi. Yes, I have a busy mind, and yes, I would give more gifts if my budget allowed.

I also realize I like this place because it is clean. Not that I don't love that I have a house, but this is clean, with clean lines and color, with no responsibility except to bus my plates...

S0, I've spent a whole hour by myself, and just had to call my friend Bella to find out if she'd like to enjoy some "Mama's Day Off." I already spent the first moments of the day looking for EK. She usually hits a Full City before she heads out to the lake. I drove to both the Full City coffee shops looking for her to no avail...I guess 8:00AM and drizzly rain was too much for her to start her day off.

Where in the World Is Travelin' Nan?

2008-07-22T08:44:00.001-07:00

Back to the Bounding Dog

2008-07-15T17:37:00.000-07:00

So, about two minutes into our run, a black lab comes running towards us. I instinctively back off as to let him get my friend, and not me. I think I muttered, "Sorry" as if that would have made up for the gnashing of teeth that might have been. But it appeared to be a friendly lab, puppy-ish dog.

We said things like, "Go away. Go home. Off. Out." The dog would be distracted in a yard, then EK would whisper, "Come here! Come here!" but both the dog and I could hear that.

We yelled some other exclamations, but we could not loose this persistant pup. This little dance with the dog went on for at least ten minutes. It jumped in our path, not quite tripping us. It licked me. EK threw decoy, "balls" for it, an apple and rock. EK threw the apple, shouted "Run!" and we sprinted around the corner, but no luck. We could not shake the dog.

Now, this annoyance generally may not bother some people, but EK and I are not dog people. We were not sharing the love. When we had to turn around and try to find the dogs home, we were not feeling puppy love.

We finally looked on the tag the dog was wearing, and dear Lucy's tag only had her name and phone number. I had my handy dandy cell phone with me, which some question why I carry it. I called the number on the tag, and the young man answering the phone answered as if he didn't even know he had a dog. He quickly remembered, said something about his brothers, and gave me the address. It was close to where we were, and after some incessant knocking a lady answered the door. She seemed to have had a heads-up call letting her know we were on the way. She said, "Thank you" a couple of times, but never a "I'm so sorry that my cute, run away dog inconvenienced your run on this blazing, stinking hot, hot, overcast day."

Dog Days of Summer

2008-07-14T21:55:00.000-07:00

This little puppy of mine was so proud of his Army make-up he put on all by himself at Cub Scout camp that we decided to take a picture outside, in no better location that our dog kennel. You may ask, "Why do you have a dog kennel when you do not have a dog?"

First, it was in our yard when we bought our house. I can vaguely reccolect a dog we had for a year or so, but PTSD, (Post Traumatic Stress induced by Dog Syndrome) keeps my memory a little fuzzy. Mostly, it's used as a trellis, or kid jail.

Kids love to corral each other and call the kennel a jail. I've tried to whole "Please don't use that as a jail. Just can't you all just get along?" approach. Nope. It's a jail. Sometimes it's a home, or a kitchen, maybe even a zoo, but mostly, it ends up being a jail.

Speaking of dogs...

My good friend EK obliged to go running with me in the blazing, stinking hot, hot, overcast heat this afternoon. This is all in preparation for the Cascade Lakes Relay that she and I are participating in. OK, we're crazy enough to try to run something like- two hundred miles through Central Oregon. That's with a team of six men and six women, and I may be the oldest woman. They don't call me Crazy Aunt Nan for nothin'.

So, as we started our run today, I was about three steps into the run when I noticed it was hot. The temperature registered on the car's thermometer as 98, in the sun. I then recalled that I drank about half of a sixteen ounce mocha, and about a cup of milk for the whole day, and it was about 3:30P. I must have been a titch dehydrated. But before we could drag our hot little selves for a short run, a dog bounded in front of us...

OK, I'm falling asleep, so if you read this blog before I get to finish posting, you will be kept in suspense...

Over the Hill

2008-07-11T16:54:00.000-07:00

Remember the hill I talked about conquering? Well, a week has passed since the Butte to Butte, and I have not mentioned the end result...

I probably should use the word "conquer" loosely. If it's definition is limited to "climb (a mountain) successfully : as in the second American to conquer Everest. " I'm good with that. If it's regarding making a personal goal, I could still use some more work on that.

My, shall I say "loose goal" was to beat my surgeon and my gynecologist. They had finished about twenty minutes before me the year before, however, my goal was shattered when I saw my gynecologist at the base of the pedestrian bridge near South Eugene. I was just about to do a little walking, when I noticed her there cheering on other runners. As I ran by, I shouted something like, "Hey, why aren't you running?" I couldn't really wait for a response, as I was running the race, but her reply was something in regards to a sort of orthopedic "boot" she pointed to on her leg.

I certainly didn't want to meet half my goal that way.

As for the surgeon, well, as a lady I can't say how badly she beat me, but I'm sure she'd say I won't have much of a scar.

There is more to the story of the gynecologist/surgeon, healthy competition, but HIPA rules don't allow me to divulge any further information...

Oh, I did beat last year's time by four minutes. As far as conquering-there's always next year.

Ready for a Shower

2008-07-09T22:51:00.000-07:00

Wednesday night, as I was down to the wire expecting guests for a bridal shower that some church gals and I were hosting, I decided it would be a wonderful idea to make the beverage ahead time. Mind you, doing anything "ahead of time" is out of my party throwing character, as I am usually the last to arrive to any party I am hosting. The other helpers weren't there yet, so I went ahead and made the "organic " lemonade in a pitcher, then put it into the punch bowl that my mother-in-law so graciously lent to me.

I had previously asked the bride-to-be which sort of beverage she preferred, and it was raspberry lemonade. As I was making "organic" raspberry juice to add to the lemonade, I pulled off the plastic part that circles the top, yet it didn't quite do the job to open the can. I started murmmering about that darned "organic" juice, illogically thinking that the extra step to save the planet by buying an "organic" product must have made the container more difficult to open. Illogical conclusions aside, I knew full well that this fiddling was an accident waiting to happen. I gingerly maneuvered the top tin piece, hoping the lid would come off easily. Instead, as I pushed on the connecting part of the container, my false move was to push too hard to release the lid. A fountain of blood red juice flowed onto me, over me, behind me, and below me, dripping off my clothes onto my shoes and onto the floor and cupboards.

I was dripping and standing next to my towel drawer, but had to carefully reach for, and choose the towel I was willing to ruin. Yet, I had to act quickly because, I didn't want Evander to see his mother appearing as though she'd accidentally stabbed her innards using a knife the wrong way.

I managed to do a cursory cleaning of myself before Van returned to the house, and was able to announce to him before he saw me, that I had covered myself in raspberry juice.

Fortunately, I was wearing clothes I hadn't intended on wearing to the party. For documentational purposes, I kept wearing the evidence of said "organic" accident, as my friend Kris was to arrive shortly.

She had asked yesterday if I was stressing about hosting the shower, I quickly poo-pooed the idea of being stressed, since I hadn't realized that, although I had casually been preparing for the shower, I truly hadn't grasped that I only had a few hours the next day to prepare my home for the onslaught of well wishers for the bride.

I called her shortly before the shower, assuring the opposite of calm, and casually hinted for her to join me to ease my troubles.

As I opened the door for Kris, the look on her face conveyed how frazzled my sweaty, tired, slightly sun burnt, juice soaked body appeared minutes before the shower.

She was gracious enough to spot me by doing some dishes, adding lemons to the lemonade, and greeting the helpers and guest of honor, while I had my own private shower.

Backin' the Bus Up

2008-07-07T17:32:00.000-07:00

I just sped read through some of my favorite blogs...

Whoa, I've missed a ton of stuff in other people's lives. This blogging thing is so interesting, and I realize that I have made at least one new "real" friend, and "lurk" on other people's blog. I might even think they are my friends...Weird huh? Yet, not totally unlike me.

So, Emma did make it back from California. She had a long review of her trip on her blog, and if you ever want permission to view her blog, let me know, and I will ask her, as she has a very blocked blog.

While she was gone, I did just fine, mostly because I left the day she was coming back so I wasn't at home to miss her. I also came to the realization that I ask her to do many tasks around the house, and that we need to be more specific about what the kids' contribution to family are, by way of chores. We jokingly call her "Cinderemma" but need to make sure that this is purely in jest.

She is slowly, I mean slowly, being allowed more and more independence and it is so fun (only a little anxious on my part) to let her out into the world. Granted, she is thirteen, and has had three years of karate. Grandma Rita suggested that, I start having her wear a whistle. Emma doesn't know this yet.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I still have more to say about my Klamath Falls trip. I uploaded the video from our "Momumentary" to the computer, so look for snippits coming soon. With some cleaver editing, it should make a good short film.

------------------------------------------------------

Although it is not entirely unlike me, today, I had difficulty focusing on the task at hand, as I have so many tasks to hand. I'm trying not to stress, well not until this evening and came to the conclusion that I'd better start cleaning for a shower that is happening on Wednesday.

Evander started Cub Scout day camp this week. He is there most of the day, so Emma and I had some time to ourselves, but we couldn't quite figure out what to do, or where to go. We thought it would be good to bike to a new pastry shop at Crescent Village, but Emma's bike needed some repair, so we decided to take matters into our own hands and help speed the process of bike repair by taking parts to the bike shop.

In the end, my helping didn't go so well, but I'm hoping my husband will forgive me...

K- Falls Education

2008-07-03T13:41:00.000-07:00

A friend and I travelled to Klamath Falls on Monday morning to participate in a three day practicum through "Classical Conversations." I thoroughly enjoyed myself, but using this forty-something brain beyond the norm, is well-out of the norm for me.

First, although I claim to be the consummate traveller, I have only passed through Klamath Falls maybe twice. Although it has amazing lakes, the town is a bit sprawled out, and we found it difficult to find it's epicenter.

I did not snap any photos, as my friend and I filmed a "Momumentary" soon to be coming out in theatres near you.

When I find the cord to the video camera, I'll upload some of the film's raw footage.

Meanwhile, here's a taste of what I did during the practicum...

July 1, 2008
I am in Klamath Falls Oregon, in a strip mall style church, in a darkened, stuffy chapel, participating in a parent practicum through “Classical Conversations,” watching a DVD of a guy teaching writing instruction. I don't have the material that is being referenced to during his talk, so I feel a bit out of the loop. I am excited to help teach my children this fellow's techniques, but I have missed something. I was late to the viewing yesterday, so I may have missed some info. given out then. It's just that the young lady at the Starbucks worked rather slowly, thus, my being late to the seminar. Not my fault.
I'm just too embarrassed or proud to say I don't have the reference material. Not the instructors fault.
Our family is enrolled in a program called, “Classical Conversations” where “tutors” “model” various subjects such as Latin, Spanish, mock trial, and writing. I am thrilled to begin this program, and excited to educate my children in more of a community setting.
Unlike my HomeSource experience, I am to be more involved in the classroom. I did not want to be a tutor during this upcoming school year, as we are unsure of what our plans our for Emma and high school.
I'd love to say I have a clear definition of a “classical” education. It has to do with something call the trivium, as this program teaches at the level of grammar, rhetoric, and logic. Perhaps I will have a better understanding a year from now.

The titles of the subjects that are to be offered at Classical Conversations sound intellectually stimulating for both myself and the children. The book list looks appealing, perhaps I'll read a book.
Although the setting in the church may not be an ideal academic setting, a philosophy of learning is being conveyed that I appreciate. This belief is along the lines that our becoming educated is to be a form of worshipping God. Again, I'm just putting this worldview together, and don't have a complete picture, or definition of what this looks like, and may only ever have pieces of this idea of "worship."
I have spent only a small amount of time studying the idea of what it means to “worship” God, but again, I haven't pulled the ideas together. It's enthralling to be introduced to this something new to me. This becoming educated and reflecting what we've learned towards God and His glory is surprisingly joyful. I look forward to explore more of these ideas.

Blog Pleased

2008-06-29T07:10:00.000-07:00

An entire day has passed since baby girl left on the bus. She is gone, but not forgotten.

I still have "blog please" notes scattered around the house. She began a campaign to have her own blog some time ago. The other day, I suggested that she write a sticky note so I would remember to talk with the Papa about letting her have her own blog and e-mail. She posted about a hundred around the house. She even had some on the toilet seat, "Blog" on the top of the lid, and "Please" on the bottom part. This seemed to be more persuasive that just sitting and asking, "Please? Please? Please?(ad infinium)." She even wrote a letter to us as an assignment in her writing class, arguing the finer points of having a blog, and e-mail.

Her persuasive campaign was effective. I don't understand the technical part of all of it, but Symantec has a "beta" family program they're working on. It has something to do with parental control with blogs and email, so Emma and Paul are users for this new program. One of the features is has is to alert us when she invites a new person on her email list, or invites someone to view her blog.

We're still working on the details of the context of the posts, what she can and can't put on the page, but her blog is up and running.

I keep wondering if she's taking notes while on her trip, or if she has a new idea for a post.

I would like to say that I am spontaneous about what I post on, but sometimes I might have "staged" photos knowing that the photo may, or may not make the blog. So, I have several photos, with a story waiting to happen. I'm also beginning to realize that I do have a camera on my phone, so when I feel absolutely compelled to snap a photo, I can.

Except...I have to figure out how to get in on my computer, to get it to my blog.

Baby Girl on Bus

2008-06-27T08:08:00.000-07:00

Well, here is a photo that captures how excited Emma is to finally get away from her parents.

I didn't Photoshop her face. The sun was shining onto the bus, and on her face, so it looks like I pasted the obligatory smile.

She is off with her swim team to a land far, far away from Mom, Dad, and little brother. Oddly enough she wasn't interested in us chaperoning this event. Although, back in the day, I was one of the fun adults on the bus, now I'm just Emma's mom, who can be slightly embarrassing at times.

She'll be gone until Monday night, but I won't see her until Wednesday, as I'll be in Klamath Falls for a Classical Conversations seminar.

She went away to overnight camp (which is down the road) last year, but we haven't had this long a stint away from each other since. She'll be just fine. I was a little teary as she was loading onto the bus, as I thought of her being, "Travelin' Em."

After the bus left, and as we were headed home, one of those sentimental "Cinderella" country music songs was playing on the radio, and again I was teary.

Crew Working

2008-06-26T07:57:00.000-07:00

As much as I would love to continue blogging about my visit to Mt. Hope Academy, a much more pressing blog topic has come up.

While I was talking with Heidi on our visit, I mentioned,

"The Curse of the Lawn Mower."

The "curse" is in relation to the spoken phrase, "I'm going to take a nap." That's when all the neighbors who have listening devices planted in my house, get on their HAM radios and notify all the local landscapers, retired men who love power tools, and then call the city workers.

Noises in my neighborhood have varied from anything that follows:

our chickens, trying to act like roosters; the giant clank of the overpass being built a mile away; the hum of the nearby highway; trees being cut down; tree stumps being removed; the neighbor's pool being cleaned(no, they've never invited us over); neighbors re-roofing; neighbors remodeling(sawing, hammering, power washing); the marching band from the high school that's about a quarter mile away; various events played at the high school stadium(most of the time we can't hear it); the announcements over the outside speaker at the high school; live Hawaiian music (not from Hawaii, but from the neighbors who love Hawaii); barking dogs; noisy cars being needlessly warmed up every morning; the slam of the neighbor's van door at 10:10 PM; and most recently, the new neighbor's Hummer.

Well, I now have documentation of one of these events. Although, it wasn't nap time, it was about 7:30AM. Everyone in the house was sleeping, but myself. I heard this odd loud noise, thinking it was something to do with the neighbors pool again. So there I go, outside in my pajama top and shorts, and sure enough, worker men are running some sort of equipment in the road that runs alongside my house. I quickly scuttle to get my camera to document said event.

Notice in the photo, that there are perhaps four of these men working away, using what appears to be edgers, removing those teensey weeds growing in cracks in the street. Why aren't they on the other side of town annoying all those Southsiders getting ready for the Olympic Trial opening TOMORROW? I know they could still use some sprucing up over there at 7:30 in the morning. Maybe they didn't want to disturb the hotel guests and Olympic hopefuls-over there.

I can still hear them...

Mt. Hope Academy

2008-06-25T17:16:00.000-07:00

As we speak, I am in a race to post our morning at Mt. Hope Peace Academy...

On our drive to meet our new blogger friend, at an unnamed location, somewhere in one of the western states, my friend Bella and I discussed how the forthcoming rendezvous with this cyber friend seemed a bit like a blind date.

I had met this woman's mother and sister at the Poet's Garden, but I don't recall if she had ever assisted us in our trips to the garden. I have read, and gleaned information about all sorts of subjects from her blog, and was thrilled to be meeting her.

Being so excited to meet our friend in the country, we passed her house, and had to do a quick turn around. As we went up the drive, the photos I'd seen on the blog, became real life. I had imagined what the setting was like, having grown up in a Western state, I've walked down plenty of gravel roads and played in the long grass at Grandma's house, nonetheless, Heidi's home appeared just as inviting as it does in her posts.

What I expected of our time was true. Her sweet boy Luke greeted us as soon as we arrived, and our kids were fast friends. Heidi was welcoming and made us very comfortable. I was a little taken aback at first, as I was "cewebrity" struck at first (Heidi's photo of me reveals a slight "deer in the headlights" look on my face).

I went into her kitchen (she gave me permission) to put some lunch items away, but having a bit of a surrealistic moment, I quickly turned around to let her know that I felt like I just walked into the computer. Her house was very lovely, and presented a very high level of "mantel health". If she had those overflowing drawers, or rooms, as I do, she hid them well. If she did have such collections, she wouldn't have to hide them from me, as I have too many drawers, or rooms to count (In fact, I think one needs one of those Wilderness Permits to go in at least four rooms in my house at present!).

The boys were absolutely adorable. I do say I felt a little grandma-esk, feeding grapes and lemonade to Leif (although I might have previously heard a faint "No" from Mom). Levi gave Evander, the city boy, a run for his money, lapping the house as they played chase. Heidi's photos showed the "Gentle Giant" spirit of Luke and Leif around Wilder....

We ladies talked and talked, and talked over each other, asking many questions, but not necessarily finishing our answers. Despite of our talkity, talk, Heidi was very kind in fielding our myriad of questions. Perhaps our blogging will answer the unanswered questions...

Our hostess, met my expectations in regards to a section of the New Testament that I recall in which the apostle Paul wrote in regards to a person being who they are in real life, not just who they are in writing. Heidi embodies this truth as a pleasant, gracious and hospitable woman, and my hope is for more "real time" together.

Showers of Love

2008-06-24T21:12:00.000-07:00

On Friday evening, our extended family threw a baby shower for a couple of my nieces, Tyrie and Jenny. My mother will now have somewhere in the area of twenty-five grandchildren and great grandchildren combined!

My mom was so helpful in getting everything ready for the shower, she's no spring chicken, yet she can do circles around me(maybe because I go the opposite direction). Mom has a community room at her apartments, which was a great setting for the shower.

I must say I love how my family is able to rally around when a new baby comes into the world. Our family is a tad mafia like in saying that we're "cousins" when we are more "relations," but I know I love these cousins.

I also must note that my dear sister and sweet sister-in-laws have done such a good job in the past with hosting and putting on showers for the family. I haven't gotten to do as much as I live over 120 miles away. They've done a great job of sharing their homes, and preparing for such parties for many years. Lastly, I think I spent about ten minutes cleaning up, as Jan, my sister -in-law,and my sister Chris did the majority of the clean-up. I said Chris was my cleaning fairy at my birthday party last year, and so she was again at this shower...sometimes, it's good being the youngest sister.

Also, some may know that I often call myself, "Crazy Aunt Nan." This label I gave myself, but others may just have thought it- keeping the quiet part to themselves. The first time I remember being an aunt was when we lived in Portland on 83rd street. I remember my mom talking on the phone, and me overhearing the news that Jenny was born. I promptly ran outside the house and announced in a very loud shout out, "I'm an aunt! I'm an aunt!"

Jenny was a constant playmate and friend until I went away to college. Tyrie didn't come along until I had moved away for college. She has grown to be a wonderful young women, and I do have a hard time not having been in the same town while she was growing up.

Tyrie had her baby on Saturday, Lukas James, 7lbs. 11oz. Brother Izaac I'm sure will come to adore this little guy.

Jenny wasn't inspired enough on Friday to go into labor the next day, but is scheduled to be induced next Tuesday.

Jenny, due Tuesday, Morgan due in early November, and Ty the day before baby Lukas was born!

A Worthy Investment

2008-06-22T16:07:00.000-07:00

It's Sunday. I don't have a definition of the perfect Sunday. Right now, I'm trying to do nothing. But doing nothing takes a great amount of effort.

We started the day with our turn for childcare at church. Paul and I read a story from Matthew about the man who sold all his possessions for a treasure he'd found in a field. Jesus seems to be comparing this to how we ought to live in regards to pursuing His righteousness as the treasure. This story came to mind as I had spent time at my old Young Life leader's house on Saturday. My Young Life leaders introduced this story long ago, and taught me that the treasure wasn't within myself, or wasn't about myself, or meeting my own needs, but that the most valuable treasure, or even fulfillment, came only from what treasures God could give/be in our lives.

Our friends' beautiful and artistic daughter, Rachel, graduated from my old alma mater, GO SCOTS! These photos remind me of photos we'd take of the kids when they were little.

I also think of the Dr. Seuss book, "Oh the Places You'll Go!"

Catch up

2008-06-17T17:38:00.000-07:00

Last Tuesday, the kids participated in their school's "Open House". Evander displayed "The Great Wall of China" that he built with his buddy Caleb. Emma and Evander shared some writing projects from their writing class, Emma a video story, and Evander a "Fractured Fairy Tale" featuring "The Gingerbread Man."

Evander read his book in front of the crowd of parents and adoring grandparents. Auntie, Uncle Tucker, Lily, Wilder and Grandma Judie were part of the crowd. He eagerly read his book, without the prodding of the teacher, or myself.

I don't even remember Wednesday. In fact, I barely remember Wednesdays at all. I had forgotten at least half of all of Evander's chess classes. I must have some sort of Wednesday amnesia. I can get the kids to karate, then I think I have nothing going on the rest of the day. Perhaps it's not a good idea for me to sign up for Wednesday classes.

Thursday, was the last of the kids outside classes. Emma excelled in her Spanish class. She's looking forward to next years class, but isn't so excited that I scheduled her Tuesdays this Summer for a conversational class-at our home. I, on the other hand am so excited to share our home in this way.

Friday, we had glorious weather for an end of the year picnic at Shotgun Creek. The kids were able to play with their buddies, and I was able to chit-chat with my fellow educators.

I didn't want to leave the party, but this was the beginning of a busy weekend, as we were off to be prepared for a Cub Scout Campout Saturday and Sunday. We also were on our way to the graduation party for one of the old youth group kids.

Saturday, "Little boys, little boys every where I go I see little boys (sung to the tune of "Little Girls" from the Annie soundtrack). I had a good time, but really my heart was elsewhere. Our dear neighbor girl, and also and old youth group kid, had a graduation party while I was at the campout. I had committed to go to the campout before I knew it was her party. I've been told it was a fabulous party, and my sweet Emma gave her a gift of a slideshow/movie with pictures and interviews of people who love her from her community. I have yet to write something more personal for these young people who graduated this year, as they will always have a very special place in my heart, as I loved them, and loved "The Thing."

Sunday, I helped close out camp and headed home to get ready for another graduation party, and for the 70th wedding anniversary of our church's patriarchal family..

At the anniversary party, I was all teary when Jack had family come forward to stand with Dale and Linore to show the legacy of the Crabtree's love. There were what seemed like endless amounts of Crabtrees. What an inspiration.

Monday, Emma's best buddies from when she was three began their stay at our home. They all seem mesmerized by our computer, as I see that it's a lovely day outside. The girls woke up early to go with me to take my Emma for her seventh grade test. She claims the test was easy, as well as a waste of time.

Although I had literally quadruple booked myself during the day, we had a great visit with Auntie Rachael and her three cherubs. These kids are really sweet, smart and cute, cute cute.

Tuesday, that was yesterday. I don't remember that. Oh yeah. We went to the U of O's Museum of Art, the Jordan Snitchzer Museum of Art. It was closed. We did, however, have a nice treat at the Marche with our grown up neighbor girls.

The girls spent their evening with their old library friends. Their mom invited the girls over to enjoy pizza and dessert. The kids seemed to get reacquainted, as they ended the evening singing around the campfire.

Wednesday, I taxied Evander to the first day his third grade test. I sat in the car, talked to Jodi, did some detailing of the car, and went through my e-mail in-box. I've been moving since then, getting ready for a double baby shower up in Portland.

Now the girls are preening themselves for a sleepover at the neighbor girls. Evander will be joining us at a rally at the 4-J school district office, as 4-J has plans to discontiue additional students to be allowed from the district to take classes at HomeSource. Let's see what happens...

And then...

2008-06-16T22:15:00.000-07:00

I have had such a rushed week, that I haven't taken the time to blog lately. I was able to jot some notes about the previous week, but right now they're in a "special" place. I just wanted a new post to appear so I didn't seem too remiss in my blogging obligation (I didn't know I knew how to use the word "remiss" in the right context. Wow).

Ok, that's it. I am so tired I need to go to bed, but I have giggling teenagers in the room next to me. Emma's best friends, from when she was three, are staying with us for most of the week. So far so good. They even sweep and cook. I don't even sweep and cook.

I have to say, it's times like these when one is really, really tired that one notices something for example, like a disc in the back may have gotten a little out of place after sleeping on the ground while camping. Or is it the throbbing I feel in my hip flexor that is a result of tripping on something in Van's room-or was it my room?

Perhaps tomorrow I'll tell of my travels to Florence, or Fall Creek, or even Coburg, but right now I'm falling asleep.

Over 1000 Views of Travelin' Nan

2008-06-12T06:54:00.000-07:00

OK, so sitemeter says that my blog has had over 1000 views. Here are some of my own comments about this...

I think 900 views were Jodi.

The times I look at my blog don't count.

1000 people viewing my blog leaves me imaging 1000 people driving by my house, although

my neighbors probably think I've driven in and out of my driveway 1000 times.

Since I've blogged, I've read the paper less.

I've called friends less.

I've spent lots of time looking at other peoples blogs.

I've learned how to use the dictionary feature on my Mac.

I may have made a new friend or two, I'm not sure they're real or imagined.

I've posted a few self-deprecating photos of myself.

I've loved a few of the photos on the blog, mostly those from Bella Artgirl.

I have traveled thousands of miles, thus living up to the name of the blog.

Writing the blog has helped me progress on the book I've never written, but am writing.

I actually have fun sharing the mundane with someone out there in Columbia, Maryland.
One may ask, "Why would someone put such not so flattering photos on their blog?"

Well, this is how I looked when I took my husband to the airport when his 4:00AM alarm didn't go off. It was some time around 5:15AM when he asked me if I would drop him off. Being that I had a terrible nights sleep, and wasn't really asleep anyway I said yes, and later some other things to clarify how I really felt about taking him. Although, I didn't say much on the way to the airport, but "Slow down."

Oh, so I decided this would be a good time to use the Starbucks card Jodi gave me for my birthday. I ordered a decaf mocha and was given watered down hot chocolate. I turned my car around to take it back, but realized how awful I looked, and that I was wearing my pajama top and leisure suit jacket. Vanity before coffee snobiness.

The Abundance of Their Labor

2008-06-07T20:34:00.000-07:00

Yesterday a friend called and asked how my birthday week was going, I answered a bit snidely, "Birthday? That was so long ago!"
She seemed a little surprised by my surly response, and assured me that I did have a birthday this week. Oh.

I suppose it went by quickly, yet seemed so long ago, with the combination of busyness, and some sitting on the couch. The excitement of the previous weekend's celebrations must have worn me out, as well as the "another year's gone by" cogitating.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I left my house this morning, being greeted by the sounds of a bagpipe. Yes, we all need a good bagpipe morning every once in a while. "Amazing Grace" filled the air as I entered the world, as another year has gone by.

My neighbor runs a non-profit therapeutic gardening organization and holds a plant sale every year. It seemed a bit deja-vousish, in that, last year on my actual birthday she had the sale. Last year, I was so excited for my friend Erin to come and pick me up for my surprise agenda fortieth birthday, that I was doing a bit of pacing up and down the street, wearing my blue tuxedo, of course. I didn't have the blue tuxedo on this morning, but the cars lining our street were the reminder of last year's day of merriment.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It doesn't take much arm twisting to get me to go to Albany, as one of my favorite places is a little off the beaten path, the Poets Garden. I'd been sent a flyer that indicated that they were having a sale on herbs. Who doesn't need any more herb plants?

The ladies were as welcoming as usual. Emma and I have made the trip enough times for them to get to know us a little, and we them.

I must say, it's remarkable that not only are these women able to combine a gift/garden decor business with an absolutely gorgeous garden, but they are additionally willing to share the resulting abundance of their labor with we sojourners.

Look Out Below for Nan's C's: Cooperate, Cogitate and Crazy

2008-06-05T15:00:00.000-07:00

I didn't notice that I had posted this for June 1st, so today's blog, June 5th is really down below!

Missing Dad

2008-06-04T16:26:00.000-07:00

A year ago today, my dad died. I never have thought about writing that sentence. You see, my dad had me convinced he was old from the get go, and I thought he would die any time. I had forty years of thinking he would die any time. Well, he almost made it to eighty-five, and I had just turned forty.

I miss giving my dad black jelly beans for holidays. I miss his puns. I miss our theological conversations. I miss how he came to love his children, and his grandchildren. He was a man that started out in this world with little love, and went out with more love than I'm sure he even imagined.

Kickin' In Forty Part II

2008-06-02T16:57:00.000-07:00

Sunday night, the last night of forty, my husband threw together a party for me. I did not feel the need for a party, as we had a great fortieth birthday party last year. But, I certainly enjoyed myself.

After having invited Auntie Patty to cook for me, she volunteered to make the main dish for the party. I just supplied the somewhat clean house.

At one point in the evening, I realized how blessed we must be. I looked out the upstairs window to see that we had about a dozen kids running around the backyard, screaming, chasing, giggling and playing with happy hearts. That is a blessing our family very much enjoys. We have a wonderful community of friends and I am thankful for all the joy that comes with it. Not much could top such birthday gifts!

Photo with love from Bella Art Girt

Kickin' In Forty

2008-06-01T08:36:00.000-07:00

Saturday night, our family went out to dinner at Cafe Lucky Noodle. As we began our dinner, I surveyed my family about what they thought were the highlights of my 4oth year.

I would describe the highlights of the year with a letter already written-our last year's Christmas letter, but part of the letter is missing, as it was never sent. Whatever it was I did before April of last year is gone forever. I guess if I thought really hard, I could come up with it...but here is the text that was saved, seeming to start from the Half Marathon 2007...

my iPod, and Elsa. Elsa did cross the line first, thus beating me (I let her win).

Paul and I celebrated our 40th birthday, together in May. It was a harried day, with so much excitement in seeing friends, and gratitude for years and years of encouragement. My sister, Chris, was my heroine, jumping in and helping with getting the food ready. She and my brother-in-law were also there for emotional support as my father was in the hospital and the rest of the family at his bedside.

I spent the day of my birthday with some of my dear girlfriends. My friend Erin had an itinerary of fun planned throughout the day. The highlight of the day was when my friends met each other for the first time, and then it seemed like they were long lost friends by the end of the night.

My father died two days after my fortieth birthday. Our family spread his ashes at an old fishing hole where the Calawash and Clackamas rivers run together. There, my sister-in-law Lindsay has planted a tree in memory of Bob Davidson, so if you get a chance to water the tree...

We began our Summer with close friends vacationing in Port Townsend, WA at Fort Warden State Park. These dear friends were great listeners in helping me process my grief. Not many people would be interested in spending their vacation time doing such, but these folks are exceptional saints.

Summer seemed somewhat long, as grief can stretch out the days. But I found an outlet for the grief in training for and running the Hood to Coast relay. Whoa! I ran the studder producing, imfamous first leg, running downhill from Timberline Lodge to Government Camp.

We finished our Summer and began our Fall with three trips to southern California. Paul's work led him to California, spending most of October moving Symantec's QA lab into the Culver City site. We visited with Haley Hoffmeister and her sweet boys, who live in Fullerton. We were at Universal Studios three days, Legoland two days and Knott's Berry Farm one day. We did take some short visits to the beach, as Paul stayed in an apartment close to Venice Beach. This gave the kids and I an opportunity to rollerblade at the beach, picnic and watch the surfers. One of our trips to SoCal was with a friend and her boys. The photo with the boys in on Mailbu beach, about a week before the California fires. The rollerblading photo was taken at the peak of the San Diego fires, so you might notice the haze.

Other highlights of the year include: our trip to Sunriver; the last family picnic at Roslyn Lake; Cape Lookout; Jim Brown's raging 40th birthday party; and Bud and Kes' visit (Hey, Bud, did you ever hear of the world's greatest joke book?).

December is almost over. It's been a year to remember that's for sure. I am grateful, and yet not as humble as I should be. I have a loving husband of eighteen years, beautiful children, a caring family, and constant friends. I go into this next year remembering the quote a friend gave me, "O God of second chances and new beginnings, here I am again."

Nan's C's: Cooperate, Cogitate and Crazy

2008-06-01T08:00:00.001-07:00

triangulatons tagged me for this blog tag challenge....
1. Write the title to your own memoir using 6 words.
2. Post it on your blog.
3. Link to the person who tagged you.
4. Tag five more blogs.
Patty
Candice
Jane Kirkpatrick
Erin
A blogger I haven't read until now, (I had to look for this one off of Mt. Hope Chronicles) Susan

It didn't take me long to come up with this title to the memoir I haven't written, after all, I was given only six words. Technically, I don't think I have six words.

Cooperate-My mother claims this to be a word I used quite often as a youngster. My family had at least seven people living in our house at the time. I'm assuming I heard the word on Seasame Street. I feel somewhat mixed about this word in the title, as it now seems this idealogical word is less of my mode of operation that some word that has to to do with doing things the way I want to do them.

Cogitate-From someone whom has labeled herself ADHD, this sounds kind of strange. I think I heard this word from a cartoon character from television, but didn't take time to think about what it meant. I've only recently come to use this word, but can say that I have spent a good amount of time cogitating.

Crazy-Since I labeled myself "Crazy Aunt Nan" I thought I'd put it in the title. Why "Crazy"? Well, the word in now politically incorrect. I find myself believing, and thinking about things that are politically incorrect.

I also have fantastical ideas, like throwing a folk concert in my backyard.

I do things like invite myself on other people's vacations.

There are others that would label me crazy especially when tall tales of celebrity friendships paint me as a celebrity stalker.

I speak Spenchglish.

Since I have worked in the mental health field, the "crazy" label might get me into trouble, but I would qualify the use of the word only if it's definition included that we are all crazy in our own special way.

* My friend commented the other day, "We wouldn't call you 'Crazy Aunt Nan" if we really thought you were."

The Quest to Conquer the Butte to Butte Hill

2008-05-25T09:26:00.000-07:00

On Saturday, a friend and I ran the "Butte to Butte" hill. This hill is about a one mile gradual climb to the top. After huffing and puffing my way up, I took a break before the downhill, and broke into Professor Pindell mode. My friend was kind enough to listen to my explanation of the technique I learned about running downhill. This technique is such that while going downhill, one puts their head forward slightly, while having a quick turnover of the legs. This turnover is much faster than the traditional long stride, where it seems you're actually trying to break, or slow your legs down. Well, I followed the technique, and I flew down the hill. Hence, I will call this technique The Roadrunner.

What I discovered in this run, is that if I let gravity lead the way, and let go of the fear that I might fall, I truly enjoy the experience.
That was Saturday, and today is Thursday. I ran up the "Spyglass" hill today, huffing and puffing to the top. I didn't take a break, still huffing and puffing on the downhill. I used The Roadrunner on this hill, and it seemed scary fast. It was clearly a steeper hill. Lesson learned: My experience is that every day is a different running day for me. I kinda like this, as I wouldn't want to get bored.
Oh, and why would such a post be interesting to anyone but me? I guess I'm wanting to express how joyful running can be, not just that I'm crazy. It's not particularly easy for to get out there and "Just Do It".

I also ask myself about the "God' connection to running. For me, it's mostly that I CAN do it. That I, for some reason have been given the legs, and lungs etc., that get me up and down the hill, and am grateful for that, even though it is not always easy.

I also like the camaraderie I have with whomever I am running, as we often discuss ideas regarding Christianity and Christian community. I also take time to mull over "ideas" in my head, otherwise known as cogitating. During a run I often talk to God, but not out loud- as if I want to live up to my Crazy Aunt Nan reputation.

Whew!

2008-05-19T07:29:00.000-07:00

Over a week has passed since I last recounted our family happenings. So, I'll summarize the events of these past few days or so...
For Evander, I'd say his highlights were: visiting with Grandma Lois, watching, Prince Caspian, going to a friends birthday party, and playing Wii with cousin Sam.
I'd guess Emma's were having accomplishments in both Spanish and swimming. Also, watching Prince Caspian inspired her to read the Prince Caspian book.
Princess Paul celebrated his fortysomething birthday out of town. I missed celebrating with him, but heard that he had balloons and a cake at least.
Me, well not much this week. Just kidding.
My mom came to visit and to help me put in my garden. She is a hard worker, and wore me out! We we're able to integrate fun and food into our time together. Grandma Judie joined us at the Dairy Queen, Thursday night. The two grandmas chatted and enjoyed their Blizzards.

Saturday, Patty celebrated her thirtysomething birthday. She came to our house for a visit with Grandma Lois, whom she hadn't seen for a long time. I must say, I have the greatest sister-in-laws. Patty is Patty for sure, with her quick wit and beautiful smile, and she's remained my friend all these year, dispite my anticts.

Here's a shout out to Grandma Judie, my favorite mother-in-law! Her birthday on Monday completes the trifecta of family birthdays all in one week.

Monday, we were able to enjoy an evening performance of ballet. Three little girls from church, including our Lily danced so beautifully for a doting crowd.

Mother's Day

2008-05-11T21:27:00.000-07:00

Thanks to BellaArtGirl for the photos, and Mother's Day love! The paper vase was from Lily-Boo.

The "Good Mother" hand prints were from the T girls.

I woke up earlier than my family on Mother's Day, so I went upstairs and compiled a CD entitled, "Mother's Day Love". Apparently, I had too many songs for one disk. But here is the play list:(This is to come, as my tech guy is in class)
The older I get, the more songs I like. Some of these songs are for fun, and some remind me of family times. I realize that many of the songs that I like are "inspirational" in genre. Yep. I guess I figure that this world/life can be difficult much of the time and I'll take help any way I can get it, and often look forward to Life beyond this world, even on Mother's Day.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After the CD making, I was told to go back to bed, where I received cinnamon rolls and orange juice. Mr. P made me coffee, (Just like George does for Laura) and I read some of the March issue of Sunset magazine. That was nice. Sweet Emma presented me with new PJ's that she bought with her own money! I had discussed this particular set of PJ's with her on one of our trips to Target, so she knew of my interest in said item.

I also called my mom, but didn't talk too long, as she comes on Thursday to fill a supervisory position to help me put in my garden. For her Mother's Day, she went to breakfast with my brother, Doug and sister-in-law, Lindsay. Bud and Kes were kind enough to make dinner for her and my sister Chris.

After coffee and conversation, we were then off to church, as we were in charge of the kids in Van's age group. We read and discussed Proverbs 31, you know, the good part about a strong woman and other great attributes of a God reveren' woman. The kids weren't as into it as I was, but it was an attempt to send some love home for the mamas.

I'll skip the part about no one showing up for hike I had planned...

We spent the afternoon watching, "Becoming Jane". I'd love to say it was a great film, but unfortunately, I fell asleep. It's a mother's prerogative to do as she pleases on Mother's Day.

Grandma Judie, Patty, Dan and Sam joined us for dinner. My family prepared the meal-Honeybaked ham, Caesar salad, and one of the foods in my top ten faves-mashed potatoes. It was delightful to share the evening with two of my favorite moms...Although the highlight of the night was when my nephew Sam gave me an unprompted puppy dog hug, while greeting me with, "Happy Mother's Day."

Movement

2008-05-10T13:08:00.000-07:00

Heidi and I ran the Butte to Butte today. We were the only ones doing so. Oh, that's right, it's not until July 4th! Well, we ran it because I suggested starting to practice for the downhill portion of the run. I must say when we arrived at the start of the course, I had my own bit of fun knowing she did not know the route. The beginning of the race appears to be a little stretch of road, then a little bump of a hill. In actuality, it keeps going up and up until there's such a steep part that one can walk more easily than run. Then it's down and down the hill. Mind you, it's not very steep, but I have to "pace" myself because I am someone who gets side aches on the downhill easily (Oh, I would love to practice my new technique of running like the roadrunner-quick turnovers barely touching the ground-it's fast. But my side aches remind me to be conservative). So I survived the hill, and now I want to know how fast(or should I say how much more than slower) I can go down the hill without keeling over.

That was this morning, well, early morning. This Saturday, was the last day of Spring soccer for the Family Soccer Organization. Our friends came up with the idea of playing as "families" rather than individual family members playing on various teams, needing to practice more than once a week, all throughout the city. It's simple. A parent from each family plays soccer with the kids. Instead of just sitting on the sideline chatting, we join in. Now, sometimes I mix chatting and playing, but today I mostly played, and what fun!

{I'd love to show some photos from today's soccer game, but when I went to take some video of the event, I realized that I broke the video camera's battery at Disney World. It was a tight fit for the video cam and the digital cam to fit in our camera case, but if I took the battery off the video cam, it fit quite nicely. Well, we had pulled it out once to film, and when I was manipulating everything to fit, it kinda sorta fell on the ground. It was dinged, and looked OK, but it didn't work. I'd forgotten my faux pas, and only brought the video to soccer today}.

So I just have to randomly describe what happens on the field...

The play looks a lot like swarm ball, especially if the adults get in the thick of the kids to try and get the ball away from them. It's not quite fair, but it is fun to get into the swarm, let them kick it back and forth between you and the kid, and then see who gets the ball. Mind you, 99% of the time, somehow the kid gets the ball. It wouldn't seem fair that the 40 year old always took the ball away from the little kids.

Then there's the comments from the kids, "Oh, you kicked that funny."

I said to one of the girls, "Hey, you're guarding me?" She replied, "Yes, I am" with a "Bring it On" attitude as she darted back and forth before our throw-in.

Tegan, as kids coach running down the sidelines, "That's it, that's it, that's it."

Then there were the random plays of the adults trying not to squish the kids. That's interesting trying not to run over a child, especially when you start running from behind them, and they come to a sudden, unpredictable stop. I had some near misses during the season, as one of the boys liked to slide tackle. Today, I tried to actually kick the ball with some umph, for the goal, but kicked it straight on into one of the smaller, say five year old's, chest. He didn't cry though.

Neither did I.

What's also fun is watching the adults try and hold back when they have a clear shot of goal. We have a three touch rule, as the adults team has to kick it three times to each other before they can shoot the goal, and they have to start the count over if a kid kicks the ball. Well, it takes some effort for the adults to do so, as the kid's team had twelve today, and we had about six.

With this being our third year(?) at this, I encourage all families to forgo paying all those sports fees, and give their own FSO a go.

Waiting

2008-05-09T18:57:00.000-07:00

≈ This week I spent sleeping. I suppose I needed it for my recovery after the half marathon. My running partner has been awake. She's ready to take on another challenge, while I try and nap...
I am waiting for the beginning of the big garden clean-up tomorrow. Today, I was in the house, as I haven't really tackled chore duties since the "Mountain of Laundry," so one can imagine the time it's taken just to clean the first layer. The first layer is good enough, so I'm hoping the gorgeous weather will hold out for a couple more days in order for me to get started on the garden. Tomorrow, we have the end of FSO (have I written about FSO?), onto the garden store for the kids to help pick-out my Mother's Day plants, then hopefully, I'll have time to plant them.
While I was waiting for my garden to be planted, I thought I'd show some pictures of what was happening in my yard, that perhaps, I was taking for granted.

Love Is What Matters

2008-05-05T14:18:00.000-07:00

Today, I am lying in the hammock and reflecting on the past two days...

Emma and I just spent some time reading outside in gorgeous weather. This school year, she and I have been reading, "Anne Frank The Diary of a Young Girl". There is so, so much life in this book. I am moved by this life. The "realness" of her writing puts me, as the reader, right next to her in the annex.

I wish I could say I have put all my thoughts together after reading this book, but there is so much that comes to mind when reading an entry to her diary, so I will only share some of my scattered thoughts. Like today, one of the passages we read reflected a day, weather wise, that was probably similar to this day, however Anne didn't have the frivolity of such leisure time. She was not free.

Also, reading this book, I am presented with the dichotomy of Anne's angst/imprisonment, and the freedom that we experience as modern Americans.
One of the more remarkable things about Anne was at her age, she is more educated than I will ever be.
There is so much richness to this story she tells, yet she did not live to tell her story. Her story is a short story, on which I have spent some time cogitating and having an ongoing "discussion" with God.
...................................

Yesterday, after the half marathon, my husband graciously made the "Breakfast of Champions" with the help of my sister-in-law Patty, and my mother-in-law Judie.

Fellow half-marathoners Heidi and Maricel joined me and our respective fan clubs for breakfast.

I'm hoping the pictures of folks spread throughout the house will tell the story, but what they won't say is that this race is a reminder of my pre-forty experience of self evaluation and self reflection that lead me to the conclusion that my life is to be about gratitude, foremost, to God and to all the magnificent gifts He gives me each and every day.

At one moment as I sat amongst my friends chatting about this and that, I had an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for these friends being the love and support that is here for me, big race or not. My eyes got a bit teary, and I noticed the song that was playing the the background. It was a Carrie Underwood song (Yes, sounds so "pop" of me) entitled, "So Small". The lyrics of the chorus are so true,

"Sometimes that mountain you've been climbing
Is just a grain of sand
What you've been out there searchin for forever
Is in your hands
Oh, When you figure out love is all that matters after all
It sure makes everything else
Oh it sure makes everything else
Seem so small"

Lag

2008-05-03T17:22:00.000-07:00

I made it through post vacation mode, only to set myself up for pre-party mode. I've given myself a couple of days of rest that don't seem very restful. I'm beginning to get over jet lag, and beginning to have cleaning lag. Tomorrow is the Eugene Half Marathon, which I'm running at 7:00AM. I guess everyone else is running at 7:00AM also.
The men connected to the ladies that are running are cooking a "Husband Breakfast" for their lady champions. I am looking forward to breakfast as much as the race. So, I expect I won't be walking much tomorrow so expect the play by play tomorrow...

2008-05-02T08:42:00.000-07:00

Tired Dogs
It's about 10:30P on Monday. I just walked around the world, at least once. We spent the day at Epcot, all eight of us that is. I didn't think to stop and get a picture of the eight of us. I would like to go on and on about what we did but I'm too tired, a good tired mind you. I told the kids my favorite ride was Test Track. They didn't let me answer, “Lunch”. Our lunch was at our favorite Italian restaurant in our known world. We went to Disney World six years ago, and ate lunch there. We loved the food. Unfortunately, I drank a big bottle of Italian water, so I could not eat my entree. This time I had no trouble eating my entree. This was a good time with our adult friends as Emma took care of the kids while we ate lunch. That was quite a gift Emma gave us. Thanks Emmers!
More later...

Which day is this? Oh, Saturday

2008-04-27T19:43:00.000-07:00

We hit the lazy river today. What is a lazy river? Well, a lazy river is usually at some sort of water park where you go around and around on an inner tube without having to move much,with the exception of trying to avoid getting doused by water from waterfalls and such. We went to Typhoon Lagoon, another Disney park.
No cool freebies at the water park, but Emma met her heart's desire.
It was called, “The Garbage Pail”.This was a sand bucket filled with ice cream and toppings such as waffle cone pieces and hot fudge sauce. I was huge, not even the four of us could eat it. I must say she learned that important life lesson about you eyes being bigger than your stomach.
On an odd note, I must say, keeping this blog “Cub Scout rated” is difficult when one has spent the day in a sea of humanity. Oh what tales a water park could tell...
We headed back to the hotel for the evening, and of course, we went to the manager's reception for more slushies and popcorn. Our night had only began, as our next destination was Disney Quest. Disney Quest is a multi-level arcade extravaganza. At first it was sensory overload, then it was, “MUST PLAY GAMES!” We played for about two hours, but left in order to meet our friends at the Orlando airport.
This was the first installment of our “Sunriver” friends meeting at Orlando. They were in very late, and we waited and waited for them to arrive, but they seemed to enjoy their surprise greeting.

The Three Nancy's

2008-04-26T08:36:00.000-07:00

So Thursday, we slept in late, and laid by the pool a good portion of the day. We enjoyed the pool deck atmosphere with the rock 'n roll sunshine music playing in the background. We also had a surprise guest, yes the guy has a power washer, yes a loud gas power washer. The kids and Paul survived my vigilant sun screen spraying (If you ever want to say, make someone scream like a girl, the new sunscreen sprays come out freezing cold).

Not very exciting, but it sure was relaxing. The freebies for the day were at the manager's reception where we had free snacks, and the kids had all the slushies they could drink. We headed to Downtown Disney for the evening. Evander was in nine year old boy heaven at the Lego store. Also, we did a stock up trip to the Winn Dixie. For those who didn't see the movie (one of my favorites), Winn Dixie is a grocery chain. Well, I did my pre-Disney World trip homework, and sent away for my Winn Dixie Club Card. Well, I saved over seven dollars off my bill just because I did so. That was exciting.
Friday, we slept in later than we had planned, as the time change threw us off, but we did go to a Disney park today, two actually. Our first trip was to Animal Kingdom, where I met the Nancys. We entered the park, and while Emma was on a hunt for a park map in English, I noticed a cast member was named, Nancy. Well I quickly stated that I was also a Nancy. We began to chit chat and she gave me a “dream”. Well I can't say I had really dreamed it before, but she gave us a pass for priority seating to the “Lion King” show. I can say it was really cool. Paul was able to be a part of the show by acting out the sound of a warthog. My very own Pumba.

We spent the majority of the day at Animal Kingdom, and loved the Expedition Everest ride. It is a crazy adrenaline making roller coaster. The Kali River Rapid ride was awesome as well. It's a big ol' circular raft ride where you never know if your the one who will get soaked. At one point, I closed my eyes, and heard a wave that sounded like what a tsunami must sound like...It hit Paul and only a little of me.
As Animal Kingdom closed early this evening, we took off for Disney's Hollywood Studios, as it was the park that was open the latest. We were disappointed to know that the major rides that were open were two hour waits, so we opted for ice cream, fries, and an interesting “movie” tour. Needless to say, we headed back to the hotel about two hours after going to this park.

Red Carpet Club-Day One

2008-04-24T09:10:00.002-07:00

We've flown the first leg of our trip and have a way long layover in SFO. I am trying not to count how many bags of chips or pretzels I've eaten. I'm trying to remain calm knowing that there are free snacks a few feet away. I also know that no lunch is served on the plane, so I'm trying to fill myself enough not to go into starvation mode on the plane (not that many of us good Americans starve). I keep sending the children for snacks, as I am busy working on my computer. I'm not sure which sort of work I've done. It's more about killing time, since I know I will be interrupted by sweet family and all these new surroundings.
Evander is giving Paul a tutorial in Pokemon. Emma is busy helping me pace myself with the snacks. I think I might be getting full.
As I wrote that, Paul signaled me that it was time to go eat. WE obviously aren't on the same page. He was asking about going to eat real food. I thought that was against the rule that he didn't know about- that is buying the non-free food. I'll have to hurry up and eat my chips.
Last night, we made it to our destination without starving. We intend to spend much of the day by the pool.

2008-04-20T17:51:00.000-07:00

Time has flown by this week. We are a very active family, but I have spent the majority of this Sunday, oddly enough resting.
So, the rundown of this week is...
We began the long list of to-do's for our "Sunriver" vacation to Orlando. Glow in the dark bracelets are on our list, as are rain ponchos for those really wet rides.
Our "Sunriver Gang" is vacationing in Florida rather than Sunriver. We've hung out at Sunriver with two other families since Evander was a baby, and have spent time together on vacation almost every year since then. Last year, my dear friends were wonderful caregivers to me while we were at Sunriver.
My dad was very ill and I didn't know if our family was going to be able to meet our friends at Sunriver, but bless their little hearts. They listened to me, fed me, and put all the meals together. These are those constant friends that will last a lifetime...
Tuesday, at Scouts the boys worked on learning knots. I tried somewhat hard to learn these knots, but this wasn't the night. I'm still working on my shoelaces.
Wednesday, I was able to do one of my all time favorite activities. I went to the Lane County Waste Disposal site, otherwise known as the dump. I'm not sure when my attraction to the dump began but maybe it was when one of my siblings took me when I was little, and I found a skateboard, which I took home. Maybe that's when I started loving free stuff too. bb
The Cub Scouts were given a great tour of the new BRING facility, and of course, the dump. It smelled. Not super smelly, but smelly enough for sure. Jokes aside, I was a bit distraught knowing that I contributed to the loss of about two 35ft. trees a year. So I have felt guilty for any use of paper these past few days. Maybe I've saved a branch since Wednesday.
This was a big week in that our nephew Sam turned fifteen. On Thursday, Emma and I watched him run a race in track. It was so nice to be able to go and support him in such a way, especially since Crazy Aunt Nan has a fondness for track.
Friday was our run around day, as we tried to finish the never ending list of to-do's. Emma and I hit the salon, later the kids had a game date with Grandma Judie.
I haven't mentioned our little soccer organization that meets on Saturday morning, but that's for another post.

After soccer, Evander read his "When the Clock Strikes 8:00" at the Saturday market.
I was a proud Mama listening to him. I was also very glad that his godparents and grandmother were there to support him as well. It was cold outside, but the experience was well worth the outdoor experience.
We also joined Sam Saturday night with his friends and "outlaws". Sam's mom is marrying into a wonderful family, and our little family seems to have quadrupled.
So this Sunday's review has turned into Tuesday's review of Tuesday through Tuesday, with Sunday being one of the highlights not aforementioned. Sunday I had occasion to lay around. I ran the "Recycle Run" shortly after the morning snow. I didn't run in the snow, but it was quite chilly. Without the play by play, I'll fast forward to the end where Paul, Tucker and baby Wilder cheered at the end. My good buddy ran the race too, and it was too fun hollering for her. There weren't many people running the race, so I came home with another medal. The highlight was the exciting cheering from my friends, and laughing at ourselves for being crazy enough for running nine miles on a perfectly good Sunday morning.

The Keys To A Lifelong Friendship

2008-04-15T21:27:00.000-07:00

Monday...Well, now I'm back to the Lindsay/Morgan visit.

Not so fast, a little more rewinding. Sunday night we beat the rain, and moved all the giagantamous lavender to the back yard. Then we were tired. But not too tired, because I promised Lindsay we would have enough energy for her visit.

On Monday, we were up bright and early and I went into full speed cleaning mode (although I'm not too sure anyone could tell). After the unofficial end of the clean-a-thon, I needed to move on to my hostessing duties. As I am not a huge plan aheader in regards to meals, I was perplexed as to what I might serve the ladies for lunch. The regular faire for guests around here would be sandwiches with meat, but I opted for something a little more fun for the ladies. I went the fondue route.

After a trip to a couple of grocery stores, I showed up just in time to greet our guests. After our greeting of hugs and welcomes, Morgan showed me what she bought from the outlet stores at the coast. I'm a little slow, but those thinking wheels started turning as she showed me a cute onesie with a duck on it. My sweet little flower girl is going to have a baby!

We so enjoyed the afternoon with pregnancy talk, baby talk, catching up and eating a variety of veggies and not so veggies with our fondue (Evander later confessed to eating double digit marshmallows!).

As Monday was a continuously stormy day, we did find time near the end of the visit to drive to Shamrock Gifts so I could show Lindsay and Morgan one of the places I like to gaze at the gift items. I thought of her the last time I was there as they had a multitude of bunnies for sale, as I associate bunnies with Aunt Lindsay. While we were there she confessed that a youngster recently visiting her home had counted nineteen bunnies residing in her home, with two real ones living outside.

A few days ago, in my blog, I touted my devotion, admiration and affection for my beautiful sister-in-law Lindsay. Visiting with her left no doubt of that. She left behind what reminds me of the keys to a lifelong friendship-letting go, forgiving, loving no matter the cost, and an enduring sense of humor.