A Tale of Two Summers

YAY! Summer! Not. Summer is far and away my least favorite season, but this one promised Pure Promise: a new(ish) house, a trip to Jamaica, a trip to California, and TWO visits from our cadet! What could be better? Well, as it happens...

Good Summer: A new house! Well, new to us. Definitely not our dream house, but we have discovered that our dream house doesn't exist. At least not in our price range.

More Good Summer: A visit from the cadet! Having him safe at home in his own little bed is reason enough worth living for, all by itself. But having him at home to lend some friendly muscle to toting that barge and lifting that bale, What could top that?!

More Good Summer yet: Our first trip to Jamaica, and all expenses paid! Jamaica absolutely lived up to every expectation. Waterfalls, beaches, open-air restaurants, humorous road signs, flowers in cascades of rainbows, good weather~complete with a summer storm~and friendly natives. But as much as we liked the "Jamaica" stamp in our passport, nothing measures up to the "America" stamp at the end of the trail. Well, to be perfectly honest, there is no "America" stamp, only a disappointing electronic swipe. But if there were an "America" stamp, it would definitely be the best.

And this is when the Promise fell apart.

Bad Summer: One day after we arrived back in the Land of the Free, our cadet showed up for his second visit. That is always cause for celebration, and so far so good. But one day after his arrival, one of our darling daughters got sick. Fine one day, deathly sick the next, with not an instant of warning.

For her: emergency room visits, tests, scans, labs, appointments with doctors of every specialty. Threats of lupus, Crone's disease, cancer, leukemia, kidney infections, and who-knows-what other unnamed horrors.

For me: grandma-ing in spades. Breakfasts and lunches, laundries, beds, toys, you-name-it, for four little almost-motherless kidlets. Keeping two houses going is not for sissies, and only the bare minimum got done at either place. My house, four months later, still looks like we moved in yesterday.

Thank God that the other grandmother, who lives in the area was able and willing to do the afternoon shift. There went eight weeks. And finally, armed with a freezer full of ready-to-eat meals and an accommodating husband, darling daughter was able to hold her own. Nothing heroic yet, but at least essential functions. So it was time for California for me.

Good summer: California! Sorta. I am NOT a fan of California, but my mom lives there, and my brother, who lives in Japan, was coming for a visit, so that is worthwhile anyplace. It was a trip to remember, dusting off old memories, and making new ones. We were kids again, visiting the house we lived in, playing in the house where we used to visit our cousins half a century ago, doing some touristy things, meeting the new neighbors, enjoying the 107-degree record-breaking heat that we thought we had left at home. Oh, no, scratch that last one. It goes under Bad Summer.

Bad summer: My little mother's health is failing. She can no longer get around without the help of a cane or a walker. Her beloved garden and outside birds now take up far more time than they used to, but...in a way, time is what she has now. Some things she simply can do no more. She gave up driving, leaving her at the mercy of whomever will take the time to take her the few places she needs to go. I am sandwiched between the realization of the mortality of my daughter on one side and of my mother on the other side.

At last home again, home again, to things precariously balanced, but ok for the moment. Nothing good happened at home while I was gone. My house still looked like we moved in yesterday, and my paperwork was piled sky-high. Neither of those has shown any significant improvement. But nothing terribly bad happened, either, and though my darling daughter has had another small relapse or two, she is overall very much better, a fact for which we are very thankful, even though we still don't know what ails her.

Just to top off the bad-ness of the summer, shortly after I came home my internet went on strike. Two weeks later, I am still internet-less, on begged and borrowed computer time, and really, no relief on the horizon that I can see. Trivial in the big scheme of things, I know, but how frustrated do I want to be. Technology is wonderful. When it works, but, alas.... And now I am ashamed to even include this little irritation in my bad summer, because the hits just kept on coming.

More Bad Summer: Two days later we had word that our little 3-year-old friend died suddenly. Her grandmother and I were homeschooling moms together about a hundred years ago, when our children were young. A lot of things can happen in 25 years, and what happened was that our children grew up and became parents themselves. This little girl suffered some major injuries at birth, and her life was severely compromised. She was blind, and at the age of 3 still did not sit up or even hold her own head up. We always knew that "someday" this would happen, but we had no way to know that it would be as simple and sudden, and shocking, as a cold when she was visiting her other grandmother in Florida with her family. I am once again acutely confronted with mortality in a place you don't usually find it.

Yet more of a Bad Summer: My daughter's precious mother-in-law, so selfless and generous all summer long with her time and her resources, has been diagnosed with inflammatory breast cancer. All the more unbelievable because she was perfectly fine until only five days before, but since then, every day she is visibly worse than the day before.

What could possibly measure up to a summer that set out to be so promising? Well, as it turned out, maybe nothing. Maybe nothing at all. Maybe what trumps everything is the uneventful, everyday, ordinary day.

Christmas Continued

No kidlets in this house on Xmas morning. That is a first for us in the last 35 years. Not a happy first.

This year, my very first not to host Xmas dinner at my house, C and I are sharing the kitchen favors. My duty is to make the classic green bean casserole and the dressing for the turkey, which C is going to cook, and while I am busy not cooking the turkey, I am answering a series of phone calls from C.

Once we get everything ready here, we are off to the second shift of Xmas at C's house, where she and De have cooked their very first turkey. Everything is well in hand, the turkey is eminently edible! and, unlike last Xmas, this dinner goes off uneventfully.

C's extra guests include their sweet little neighbors, a young army family with two small children. Having gone home to Utah for Thanksgiving, they are, or would be, spending Xmas alone at home. They are pleasant company, and ever so appreciative, repeatedly expressing thanks for the invitation.

We eat, we visit, we open presents, we talk, we play games, we clean up. And eventually it is time to call it a day. So we divvy up the leftovers and head home, to our Xmas-less house. Well, Xmas-less it would be, but our cadet comes home with us, so we are happily blessed.

Another Xmas goes to memory, and another year. 2010 is just ahead. 2010??? Now if someone would tell me it was 1999 coming up, that I could believe!

'Twas the Week Before Xmas

Sunday ~ Xmas tree is leaning forlornly against the side of the house, waiting, waiting, waiting to come in! I give C instructions to take the turkey out of the freezer today. I start thinking about writing Xmas cards. But just thinking about it.

Monday ~ Today is spent last-minute tidying. M is due at 8:45 tonight, but his plane is early, of all things, and we find him standing on the sidewalk in front of the terminal. On our way home we stop briefly at C's to disrupt their bedtime and then hit the Taco Bell drive-thru.

Tuesday ~ Dark and early I am up to put Cajun Beef Stew, at M's request, in the crockpot, my very favorite kitchen servant. Ordinarily M spends his mornings at home sleeping. But today he gets up early-ish and brings in the Xmas tree! Then we go out for last-minute Xmas shopping and other errands. After lunch we head to C's to make Xmas cookies. Then we come home to eat and run. It's Xmas caroling night! When we get home M dresses the Xmas tree with lights, half of which don't work. They worked when we put them away last year, so....????

Wednesday ~ Another dark and early morning. M goes off with the chimney sweep. I stay home and write a couple of Xmas cards. The guys come back for lunch, and later C and crew come over for dinner. And Xmas-tree decorating. I may start a "Twelve Days of Christmas Tree Decorations" tradition.

Thursday ~ Xmas Eve! Snow flurries!!! Early morning grocery shopping. And that's it! Positively NO MORE shopping before Xmas!!!! More writing of more Xmas cards, and this afternoon M is off to spend the night at C's. Guess why? Because he doesn't think it's proper to wake up on Xmas morning in a kidless-house? I must say I agree. But, he is the kidlet of this house, so What? About? Us??? Except for the first Xmas we were married, we have never had a Xmas morning without kidlets, so I guess we are getting ready to find out what that's like.

Still to do ~ dressing and green bean casserole to cook, presents to wrap, still Xmas cards to write and plenty more where those came from.

We have to share S with his in-laws, so we had Xmas with his family last week; D, alas, is off in the wilds of Kansas, trapped, thanks to Global Warming, in the Blizzard of the Century, so we will not be seeing them anytime soon. But tomorrow, M and C+...

Christmas coming up!

Christmas, First Shift

S and G and the Blue-Eyed Boy live in a maze in some remote part of the county. Every time we go there it's a whole new world, and we can't remember the way. Or maybe it's that we always come from a different direction...? In any case, yesterday was no exception.

We knew which exit to take off the highway, but...then what? When the road dead ends do we turn left? Or do we turn right? What to do when we get to the high school? And which way is the church that we have to pass in order to get to the bridge? Time to call S for directions. Again. The same way, I'm embarrassed to say, we have to do every time we go to their house. Too bad he isn't answering the phone...

Fortunately, the Chimney Sweep gets around, and after a bit of wandering like the lost tribes of Israel, he saw something familiar and got an inspiration of how to proceed. YAY!! We arrived just minutes after C and D, the BB's, and the Other Princess.

Dinner strayed a bit from the usual, all in a good way: fried turkey, green bean bundles, peppermint cheesecake. Oh, and what was left of the mashed potatoes after the crockpot tipped over in the car at the stop sign.

Presents, too, anything anybody could possibly want...

• pj's
• legos
• books
• games
• scented candles
• soft, fuzzy gripper socks
• puzzles
• gadgets

...and the first shift of Xmas passes to memory.

D is still off traipsing the wilds of Kansas and will not be home at all this year, but next year lurks on the horizon getting closer by the minute.

M, happily, will be home tomorrow evening. So...Xmas, Part II, coming up!

Bah Humbug/Merry Christmas!

This morning found my Man and me cooling our heels at the post office in possession of a little orange slip informing us that we had something to pick up at the window. The line was long and slow, affording lots of time for endless speculation, but the little paper gave us not a clue, and we could not imagine what it might be or whom it might be from.

We eventually were next, and we handed it over to our Favorite Postal Clerk who scurried off to look for it. He was back right away with the news that we had a postage-due letter.

Did we want it? he inquired.

Well, we don't know...Who is it from? we asked.

He showed it to us, and we were no better off than we were before. There was no return address, but it was quite obviously a Xmas card. Having received only a dozen or so cards so far this season, and since my Man (quite out of the ordinary) had a $ in his pocket, we decided to spring for another one. AHA! Light bulb moment!

Xmas cards are/is? one of my favorite traditions of the season. They are sometimes our only communication all year with a faraway loved one, so I love getting and sending them, but the price of postage, higher every year, is frankly starting to suck the joy out of it. I hate spending untold $$$ on postage, but I also hate not sending the cards, so in recent years I have resorted to cost-saving measures such as spending a few cents less to mail postcards instead of regular cards with envelopes.

But this!!!! This is waaaaay better! If you send the cards with no return address, the post office cannot return them to you, and if you send them with no stamp, your victims friends will have to pay to get them! How can you beat that? Well, I do have one other idea for you: instead of spending $ to buy postcards, cut the fronts off the cards you receive and use those for postcards. Voila'!!! Free cards, free postage. Now, that you can't beat!!!

My Man forked over the $, and we were on our way. Back in the car we could not wait to see who it was from, so we opened it right away, and TA-DA! Nobel Prize for Economics, Holiday Hints Division, goes to none other than T&E!!!! T&E are two of our very favorite friends, so we were just the happier.

Bah Humbug no more! Given the state of the economy, in any economy at all, 44c for good wishes from good friends is a bargain indeed, and a tip like that...PRICELESS! Merry Christmas!

Happy Heart Day!

It is A Day in My Life day again.

My Man went off to work dark and early this morning like he does every Saturday, and I went back to bed, like I usually don't, and I actually went back to sleep for a couple of hours.

I love Saturday mornings at home alone, having plenty of time to avoid whatever it is I don't really want to do. Today, as it is so often, it was the paper piles, the bane of my life. Here a pile, there a pile, everywhere a pile...

I did manage to get myself dressed and had dinner almost all ready in the crockpot before the phone rang. It was my friend De who had found a homeless person by the side of the road last night. She was calling to see if I could meet them at the Little House, our church's pantry/clothing room. It was a chilly morning, but they had gotten out of the truck and were sitting outside at the picnic table when I got there. We went in and quickly found a few things for her to wear. Not so easy was rounding up something for her to eat: food had to be non-perishable, single-serving, and no cooking required.

We spent quite a bit of time talking with her. At times she was perfectly rational, other times...not so much. The encounter left us with a bit of an Alice-in-Wonderland feeling, and in the end she told us she would rather go live on the street than spend any more time talking to us, so De loaded her up with her *new* stuff and took her back where she got her. We can't fix her, but at least we know we did what we could, and she is a little bit better off tonight than she was yesterday.

I did a couple of errands, and then I spent the rest of the afternoon at home. I made some phone calls and took another run at the paperwork, which springs eternal around here. Every now and then I had to run outside and hold something for my Man who was working on a display stand for the Central Texas Home and Garden show next weekend.

Later on I had a moment of hope that I might see D on the webcam, but that was short-lived. It's a bit too advanced for my techno-grade, so here's my plan: tonight I will shut down the computer, and hope that it has time to heal by the time I turn it on again.

My Man and I used to have a standing date to watch the British comedies on Saturday nights, but over the the last year or two, with one thing and another, that lovely habit has gradually fallen out of favor. So tonight, in honor of Valentine's Day, it is being resurrected. That oughta be enough heartfelt fun for anybody!

Coronation Day

Today's the day the whole world has been waiting for! It is time for the advent of America's new Messiah. Er... President. It's the day that Barack Hussein Obama, elected by a shameless, sycophantic media, steps out of the fictional "Office of the President-Elect" into history, into a day, according to said media, of epic importance, more significant apparently, than any other presidential inauguration. Ever.

This same media is absolutely mesmerized by America's first "black" president. It is infatuated with him, far beyond the hand-holding stage. Twitterpated, as Bambi would say. Boot-licking, fawning, and swooning to a point past embarrassment, as evidenced by some of the commentary today:

• I lost count of how many times I heard the phrase "history being made." Newsflash: History is made every Inauguration Day.
• According to Katie Couric, the darling of CBS News, "It's impossible to be too hyperbolic about the importance of this inauguration."
• And Bob Schieffer's comments on the festivities: "Washington has never seen anything like this before." What? Washington has never seen a president inaugurated?!
• "This president is so inspiring, young children all over the country have stars in their eyes?" Fascinating. I myself have never known any young child to have such definite political leanings.
• "At last, a president that represents all the people." Huh? I don't recall voting for him, and he and I have such severely opposing views on so many basic issues, he can't possibly represent me.

Why is it that Mr. Obama was courted and interviewed and treated to press conferences long before he was ever inaugurated? And how is it that for the last several weeks, the media took to calling then-President Bush "Mr. Bush," while referring to then-Mr. Obama as "President Obama"?

All I know for sure is that for better or for worse, or for indifferent, we're on. Don't worry, we'll have the press and the media to keep us up to date on the events of the day, but if we want to know the truth, I'm quite certain it would behoove us to stay awake and pay attention.

Happy New Year! x2

New Year's Eve found us on our way to visit Little Granny at the nursing home in Kerrville. We don't get there often enough, and we wanted to be sure and make the trip while M was here.

As we walked up to the front door, we noticed a van unloading: speakers, amplifiers, guitars, microphones, they had it all, right down to the three men, dressed all in black, relieved only by a white bandanna tied around the throat. Black felt cowboy hats, black Western shirts, black pants, and black...I had sorta expected black cowboy boots, but nope...canvas, tennie-style shoes (black, of course)...?!

We went around them into the lobby and immediately noticed people were beginning to gather. Some were seated in chairs placed around every edge of the room, others were being wheeled in, still others were shuffling along in their walkers. Whaddya know, it's PARTY TIME!! And we are just in time!!!

We collected Little Granny from her room, and settling in on one of the couches, we observed the remaining party preparations. As "The Sounds of Yester-Year" set up their stage, one of them commented, "I hope we get out of here early. I want to have some champagne tonight," and over in the dining room, aides were busily arranging fancy cookies on plates and pouring champagne ("With?" or "Without?") into fancy glasses.

I was tired, and it was the perfect time for a nap. Not a real nap of course, mostly just "resting my eyes." Anyway, how much sleep could I get with the Princess continually poking and pinching me while the sounds of the Lonesome Whippoorwhil and the Chattanooga Choo Choo were blazing away just inches from my right ear...? As I said, it wasn't a real nap, although I confess I was unaware of the aide standing in front of me until she very pointedly shouted, "Cookie?" at me. And she did mean "a" cookie, so I took care to choose only the very best...which, after it was too late to trade, turned out to be some sort of fruitcake cookie... Yum-no.

Well, that pretty well finished my pseudonap. While the Men in Black carried on valiantly with their repertoire, an aide passed out party hats and horns and tiaras and noise makers, after which came an announcement:

"We are going to count down the New Year! At 3 o'clock!"

Well, I supposed it would be the New Year somewhere in the world, even if not in Kerrville, Texas, and it looked like the members of the band were going to get their wish to go home early. I couldn't help noticing, though, that when the aide offered them champagne, they chose theirs "with." Hmmm.... champagne now, champagne later. New Year's x2 for the Men in Black.

Fifteen minutes later it was 3 o'clock, and right on time, the countdown began. Upon reaching "0", the Sounds of Yester-Year began their twangy rendition of "Old Lang Syne," something I hadn't ever heard before, and as for the noise makers and the horn blowers, let me just say that was one lively party! A whole lot livelier than our next one nine hours later... Party now, party later. New Year's x2 for us.

Shortly after the countdown we took off for a short visit with Aunt Fiona and her new husband. We still had a long trip ahead of us, but no hurries, after all... we had all year in front of us.

Happy New Year! Happy New Year!

Xcitement at Xmas

...waaaay too much of it, and not the right kind.

Like every Xmas past, this one started innocently enough ~ up dark and early to a full house of noisy, xcited kidlets. At least it sounded like a full house, but a closer xamination revealed only two: the Princess and the Gingerbread Cookie. We had the dark part right, though, and the first round of Santa Claus took place by the illumination of twinkling Xmas tree lights.

Presents opened, trash cleaned up, ham in the oven, and here comes Part II: C, De, the Other Princess, and, reminiscent of Dr. Seuss's Thing 1 and Thing 2, our own BB1, BB2, and BB3. Ok, now it really is a full house, and so far so good.

After another bout of presents, the bulk of the kidlets went outside to play "football" with Uncle M. The ones that didn't go outside wanted to, and therein began the problem. D closed the door to prevent the escape of the Other Princess and the Gingerbread Cookie into the wild world of the front yard unescorted, and they began to sob with abandon, in the way I often want to, but, alas, am not afforded the luxury. While GC ran into the kitchen to pout and cry, the loud protests of OP were suddenly silenced when she lost her breath.

OP has been diagnosed with one of those acronymic conditions: "RAS," a seizure sort of a disorder. It isn't seizures so much in a neurological sense, but more a case of passing out when she loses her breath. According to the pedi-neuro, who has examined her extensively, this extremely common disorder which affects one out of four children is not life-threatening, but it is scary.

C, as always on the alert, tried to head her off at the pass. She yelled at De, who came running in from the football game, but their best efforts failed, and OP passed out. De tried to call 911, but true to form, our up-to-the-minute 3rd-world class telephone service had no dial tone, so 911 was summoned by cell phone while C continued trying to resuscitate her patient. I asked C what 911 normally did when they came, but she did not know; OP normally wakes up before they get there. This time she did not.

So when 911 showed up they placed OP in the ambulance, and while they worked on her they interviewed C, suddenly interrupting their medical questioning to ask, "Are you S's sister?" But never mind that. They could not wake OP up, so they took off with C and De aboard to meet the helicopter at the high school parking lot two blocks away.

D and my Man drove to the high school to meet them while I did the duty that never ends: KP. The food was ready to put on the table, but thoughts of dinner no longer figured on anyone's radar, so I put the food away to be considered at a later time.

C was allowed to accompany OP on the helicopter, and De came home with D and my Man. He rounded up the BB's and M and they took off for the hospital, 30 minutes away. D and I finished putting the food away, and then the rest of us saddled up to follow.

When we got to the hospital, we were met by S and Gi, who was on duty in the ER that day. She gave us the report: OP is awake and she is stable and they are waiting for the doctor. The doctor, when she finally showed up, was very cute and personable, but...she looked like a teenager! ACK! I'm not sure she was old enough to have a driver's license, but she seemed to know what she was doing and dismissed OP after a brief consult with the parents.

By this time it was late afternoon, and everyone was starving. C and her bunch headed for the in-laws, only a few hours late, and the rest of us came home to eat our Xmas dinner leftovers. (Are they still leftovers if they were never used the first time?). C and all showed up here again after dinner at the in-laws, loaded up their Xmas goodies, and went home. M went home with them, and the rest of us settled in for a long winter's nap.

OP turned two in November, and according to the pedi-neuro, RAS is typically outgrown by the age of three. So. Here's hoping to only one more year to go...

Thanksgiving

The usual Thanksgiving drill at our house is lots of grand/kidlets, and the aromas of turkey and dressing and rolls and pies wafting throughout the house before anyone ever gets up. Well, almost anyone. I seem pretty much always to be up, at least according to BB1: "Poke stays up late and gets up early."

But today, for the first time, we had none of that.

C and hers are at the in-laws' this year. I always wanted my kids to marry orphans, but I had not imagined that orphans would be in such short supply, and so far that hasn't happened. We have one more chance, and meanwhile we share. This year it is "their turn."

S and Gi are hard at work. The perils of life as a police officer married to an ER nurse.

D and the little girls have gone off to Kansas. Enough said.

M made out like a bandit. He took off after school yesterday to visit the aunt of one of his classmates (Is that what they call them?) somewhere in the vicinity of West Point; today he and a bunch of other strays are invited for Thanksgiving at Major Minor's; and Saturday there will be one more dinner, at the home of the chem prof.

So my Man and I had Thanksgiving dinner at a restaurant for the first time in our 34 Thanksgivings together. When we go to Ryan's, which isn't often, I generally sample everything that looks remotely interesting, but, today notwithstanding, Thanksgiving is for tradition, so I decided to stick to traditional Thanksgiving foods: turkey, ham, dressing, sweet potatoes, pumpkin and pecan pies, and the like. It was an interesting change, but to be perfectly honest, our turkey and our pies are waaaaay better than Ryan's, and I don't think we will be repeating this experience. Now we are back at home, with no leftover turkey and no mid-afternoon pies ;-( No, we definitely will not do the restaurant dinner again.

My Man sat down to watch the football game and is now happily asleep on the couch, accompanied by Miracle on 34th Street, while I am looking out the window, thankful for the perfectly drizzly, perfectly grey, perfectly chilly Thanksgiving Day.

This year things are a bit different, a bit less comfortable than they have always been, but we always have something to be thankful for. The Scripture is replete with examples of gratitude and admonitions to be grateful, even when things don't look quite as we think they should, all summed up in I Thessalonians 5:18~"in everything give thanks..."

Now there's something to think about. And it's humbling to realize that there are worse things than being home alone for Thanksgiving.