Ahhhh, Christmas!

 
 
 

It's been a long time coming that snow, but when it finally decided to show up, it came with a vengeance! I kept writing to friends and family, "Still no snow..." right up until a few days previous. Not only have the snow and ice storms been making news on the east coast but we have been getting ours here on the west as well. In the last four days we have gotten at least 15 inches and Kevin has been going out constantly to shovel off the front deck and drive down a path in our driveway. Yesterday we were getting about an inch an hour.

Most of our regular wildlife visitors are keeping close to their own hearths and the deer have migrated over to Christmas Valley east of us about a month ago. When the winds stop blowing and the snow stops drifting, the squirrels scamper down the fir trees and congregate near the bird feeder, digging and scratching for the seeds that fall from the nuthatches, chickadees and red headed finches. The morning doves make their hourly rounds when the squirrels are gone and every once in awhile they do something a little goofy.

While Kevin and I were hunkered down in the living room watching the news yesterday afternoon, we kept hearing pecking noises, we just assumed it was one of the woodpeckers that visit us. Of course, the noise was persistant and so to make sure that one wasn't burrowing it's way into the house, we thought we better check it out.
I just happened to look up at the skylights in the living room and there I saw above me three to four pairs of little feet. That sound was not a woodpecker but the morning doves getting the melting snow off the skylights for a drink! Now I know how "pheasant under glass" feels.

And last but not least, when it was dark (hmmm, that was pretty early around 4:30) I went out to get a shot of one of the snowy trees that Kevin decorated with lights. Yes it is a bit fuzzy and I haven't figured out how to get a good still one but it's the idea, still kinda pretty anyway.

We are keeping our fingers crossed that come Christmas Eve the weather will be a bit better for our trip to Portland. Mom and Dad Schumacher (Big Shu's) are the lucky recipients of an invasion! Not only will Kevin and I be there but Bret, Sara, Evan and Eric will be arriving to celebrate the birth of our Lord. I am so excited, I haven't had a really nice family holiday in many years, and to share this with grandchildren and great grand-parents is a blessing and a treat that will always be a special memory indeed.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!

Snow!

 

Oh what a reaction one gets from people around here when one uses that little four letter word. Some behave as if you have truly said a bad word. Frankly, I love snow. I can't imagine why one would live here if one didn't like snow. There is always Southern California, New Mexico or Arizona.
I love the changing of the seasons, living with the 'real' harbingers of spring, the Ides Of March, and seeing 'termination dust' come in October. I don't recall any real seasonal changes where I grew up,it's all turned into a blur by this age. I see summer and then simple shades of gray. Growing up in the Bay Area east of San Francisco, the glazed crusts of the puddles underneath the playground swings at school meant it was winter. Walking a half mile to school in the fog, looking up at the seemingly revolving orange ball through the mist of it, that was winter, too.

I'm not sure if I love the snow because I feel I was deprived of a Currier and Ives Christmas every year or if I would love it no matter what. My very first white Christmas was in 1979, when I moved to Montana. I was pregnant with my first baby but that didn't stop me from being ecstatic when the first flakes began to fall. It was even more fun to experience that the following year with a one year old in a sled! And for the next fourteen years my little family made it an all day event to head for the hills to choose their own tree.
I'd fix up a pot of hot chili and hot chocolate fixings, load up the truck with all the boots, jackets and gloves I could shove in there, throw in the kids and the husband and off we would go, driving up the logging roads into the forest. In later years when we reached the real climbing zone, we'd tie up ropes to the bumper of the truck, attach them to sleds and toboggans, then tow grownups and kids all the way up to the 'hunting grounds', at least a good three to four mile ride. I had more fun listening to the kids yelping and squealing and watching the laughter on their faces. That was one of the best parts of the day. Nowadays one would probably get arrested for child abuse, but MY kids would tell you THAT was FUN.
At the end of the ride, or top of the hill, everybody would gather around the tailgate, ready for that piping hot chili and hot cocoa that we heated up on the ol' Coleman stove. Nothing tastes so good when you've had that much fun and you're cold, the air is so crisp and clean and your tree is resting on top of the vehicle. Now of course, the tree hunt probably took all of an hour, traipsing through the knee-deep snow passing off all the imperfect specimens. And then...THE ONE...there it was, about a hundred yards off and hiding behind some big papa tree. But we'd see it, "There it is, that's the one!!" someone would yell out gleefully and off we would all trudge to stand in judgement. Hardly ever did anyone argue since most everyone was pretty worn out, wet and ragged and too tired to disagree.
So on went the process of tying it down and hauling it back down to the valley, kids in tow STILL wanting to ride down on the sleds, tires and toboggans. They may have been wet and cold but they were getting in as much of it as they could.
Now those are great snow memories.
Then I moved to real snow country. If living in Alaska doesn't kill your love for snow, nothing will. The winter of 2002 I moved into a log cabin I was building. The floor was in and the walls were up and the roof consisted of a blue tarp strapped down. All winter. In Alaska. Until May. Now that's tough. There was plenty of firewood to feed the wood stove that was always hungry. Not only did you keep yourself warm standing by the fire inside but you warmed your insides hauling, sawing and chopping wood outside, often in sub-zero conditions.
Snow...
I love that four-letter word still. I have a sturdy roof over my head now and a pellet stove to keep me warm, along with a wonderfully cuddly husband who lovingly trudges out through three feet of snow to the garage, in the dead of winter, to bring back a 40 to 50 pound sack so he can spill the contents into the open mouth of that lovely Kozi pellet stove, just to keep me warm.

Mom and Sara's Trip to Auntie and Uncle's House

Several months ago I had planned on heading down to California in September for a visit with my older brother Pat and sister-in-law Cathie. At first I was planning on making the trip alone until I had asked Sara if she would like to come along with Evan and Eric. She seemed in shock that I would ask such a question and I could almost hear her say, "Travel with BABIES??". I don't exactly remember her reply but I do recall telling her that I had traveled cross-country alone from Montana to California several times with her and her brother when they were toddlers and older.
She said she would have to think about this and talk it over with Bret and she'd get back to me. Weeks went by and regardless of whether or not she came along for the ride, I was heading down for my visit.

Well, on September 24th, 2008 I headed for Sara's in Corvallis, Oregon. The Road Trip was in motion, not only would I be visiting Pat and Cathie but my trip companions would be Sara, Evan and Eric. Bret had planned to come along but was waylaid by his college work program and couldn't join us on our adventure so as their Nissan truck was loaded up I left my car there for Bret to use if he needed to. Another little story there...

I left my house at 4:15 a.m. and arrived at Sara's at 7:45 a.m., we loaded up her new Nissan truck, belted the boys in their car seats, hugged Bret and said our goodbyes and headed south.
Now, if you think about it, traveling 500 miles by car with a two year old and a one year old would just about unravel any normal adult, but I wasn't going to think about it, I was just going to do it and take one mile at a time...
We really didn't have a time itinerary and our plan was to simply stop when we had to, depending on the needs of Evan and Eric. I will say that they were excellant travel companions and really very easily entertained. Sara was the designated driver and Grandma was babysitter, binky finder, map reader and toy picker-upper. The drive down took us about ten hours since we stopped at a few places to stretch our legs and see the sights, there were many view points along the way so we took those opportunities to refill sippee cups and change diapers. All in all, Evan and Eric were troopers and did very well, a few cries here and there but as long as Grandma kept picking up dropped toys and binkys and paid them some attention they did very very well, much better than we had hoped for or expected.

We arrived at Pat and Cathies' a little disheveled and road weary but still holding up pretty well. As we pulled up into my brothers' driveway he came out to meet his great-nephews for the first time. Sara and her babies and Pat and I are all that is left of my family so we hold each other dearly in our hearts, tears came into my eyes as I saw him approach for the first time. Sara and I hopped out of the truck and proceeded to unload our baggage and then the babies and head inside to greet Auntie Cathie.
Usually the boys are in bed by six p.m. but after the days' driving and their routine all out of whack, we all stayed up until about ten p.m., the boys were full of energy but there was no whining or crankiness from either of them.
By 5:30 the next morning we were all up and ready for another day. Sara took one of the boys while I took the other and we sped through diaper changes, got them dressed and out to the dining room table for a breakfast of bagels and cream cheese and fresh strawberries.
While she was busy with the feeding I headed for the shower first, then she took her turn at it when I was finished and I took over the boys. They aren't handfuls by any means but I had forgotten how busy you are at every moment, it seemed as if her shower took forever! It has been 25 years since I have had to have all my radar up and working at full power so by the end of the day, I was ready for bed. It was a wonderful visit, we didn't have to rush anywhere, just enjoy our time together. It truly was the best time to take Evan and Eric since they are not at the stage where we would have to put up with, "Are we there yet??, He looked at me! He's touching me!"..

The weather was great, sunny and warm, and Pat suggested a little drive to the river and a little beach not far from the house.
Kids are so funny and so unpredictable, all part of the fun of having them around. While I held Eric, Sara walked to the river's edge with Evan and without an ounce of fear (I say this because Evan is usually so cautious of heights, loud noises, or "big" things) he walks right to the lapping water and gets his shoes wet. Okay, so off come the shoes and he's laughing and giggling while his toes get wet. Within seconds it was time to remove his shorts, then his little tee shirt came off and finally mommy removed the diaper. There he was in all his blinding-white glory splashing and chasing the water, throwing pebbles in and laughing even more.
After a good half hour Evan was dressed and we headed back home for lunch and naps.
After the boys woke from their naps, we took Evan out in the backyard and removed his clothes and diaper so he could run through the sprinklers, but he wasn't having any of that. Sara suggested just turning on the hose and letting him have a go at that, which turned out to be a great idea and Evan loved it.




We thought having Evan and Eric outdoors for awhile would surely help them to sleep when bedtime came but we discovered otherwise. They went to bed around 9:00 p.m., still in great spirits and no real cranky times or exceptional whining. All in all, they were doing great and had a great time as well as we did simply enjoying our time together.
Friday came and Sara and I decided we wouldn't push our luck with the good times so we left a day early just to take our time getting home. After breakfast we pointed the nose of the truck towards I-5 to turn towards the coast later on. We drove through the wine country on roads I had never been on before, Cathy suggested a little highway called 16. It was quite scenic; rolling hills, farmland, oak trees, and winding roads with an occasional river alongside. One of our thoughts was to try and go through the redwoods so we could stop at the Paul Bunyon statue and take pictures. I have a photo of my dad and me when I was 2, there is a photo of Sara when she was about two with her dad and we were going to attempt to get one of Evan with his mommy. Alas, we ended up driving past the darn thing sometime after dark, we never even saw it. But...by dark we were ALL ready for a motel with a shower, some beds, rest and something to eat.
Our final stop on Friday night was at a motel in Crescent City after driving through three towns previously where every place was either closed for the season or they were full. Who would have thought? I also noticed that at one place the price of gas was $4.15 while the other 'non-reservation' stations were averaging $3.51. Needless to say, we didn't get gas there. On Saturday morning we were up early, enjoying the benefits of the free continental breakfast with cereal, oatmeal, blueberry muffins and a few apples, then hitting the road again. Since our Paul Bunyon dissappointment we focused on the excitement of enjoying some sandy beach and listening to the surf.

We made it to Brookings, Or., one of my dad's favorite places. The weather was sunshiny and warm as we took Evan and Eric out of their carseats and put on some light jackets. Off to the beach we went. At first, I suppose the vastness of the ocean and the loud noise of the crashing waves had Evan hesitating a bit but after the initial meeting, he was thrilled to run up to the waves that had ebbed, throwing more pebbles and giggling with glee as they disappeared.




Back on the road and heading up towards the redwoods (Ol' Paul was on the Highway Of The Giants), kids all loaded in their carseats and STILL doing so well, to our amazement. We made a few stops at some roadside stands where there were all kinds of redwood statues, birdhouses, windchimes and redwood seedlings for sale. Sara suggested I get two redwood seedlings and plant them in honor of Evan and Eric. I thought it was a great idea but am putting them in pots so that Sara and Bret can have them in a few years when they have their own home. It's pretty likely they wouldn't survive our winters here.
One more stop we had to make was at one of the trees that you can drive through, there is the "Grandfather" tree and there is the Chandelier tree where we stopped and took some pictures. No, we didn't drive through this one since the mirrors on the truck stuck out a bit too far, this was a rather narrow drive-through.
So back on the road, everyone all hitched up and seatbelted and about four more hours of driving. The last stop was a lunchbreak for us, I was pretty done with McDonald's and Arbys and ANYTHING drive-through so having a sitdown meal without a seatbelt on was great. Then it was only two and a half hours after that when we drove up to Sara's front door. We just missed Bret by 30 minutes since he had to work at 4:00 p.m. I helped Sara unload a few things so she could take a quick trip down to visit Bret with Evan and Eric, he was soooo happy to see them! One of his comments over the phone after we left was, "It's so quiet here..."
Sara and I have wonderful memories of a unique and wonderful trip together, lots of pictures and two redwood trees to watch grow.

I didn't take any pictures of Cathie since she is still in a mild state of depression concerning her progress of recovery. Even though the doctors tell her she's doing remarkably well, we know that things don't go as fast as we would like. I thought she looked pretty good and she even had three inches of hair so she wasn't bald. She still has some swelling around her throat and her skin still looked very red but as far as everything else, I thought she was doing great, too, and I made sure to tell her that.

A Great Summer

It has been a wonderful summer, one of my best in a long time. I
can look back at all the time I have had off, good long stretches to
play with Kevin or get things done around the yard, even take a trip
with my daughter and grandsons...

This year Kevin and I managed
to get quite a bit done on the yard, notwithstanding our--okay, MY,
battle with all the critters and varmints. It began with a few
squirrels who have a nasty habit of peppering the ground with broken
branches andpine cones as they prune their wooded high rises . If they
are the least bit bothered with your presence, they will pelt you with
their trimmings. The old adage, "Don't look up" works well in this
case, too. Along withlilliputian -sized potholes dotting the front
acre, we discovered they were also stripping the aspen saplings of
their leaves! In the last two years I have nurtured and nursed, trimmed
and weeded, barricaded and sprayed offensive natural ingredients on
those trees to keep the deer away and the trees and most of the bushes
have survived the larger animals. It will be a challenge to figure out
how to outsmart the squirrels with their bark-stripping and leaf
eating. Now I have a new adversary no bigger than a cell phone; it is a
7 stripe ground squirrel, alias; Timber Tiger, look-a-like to our
beloved Chip and Dale
friends.
Oh they are so cute and lovable
looking as they dart from hide-out to hide-out, bomb craters they have
lovingly and tenaciously dug out as refuge from hunters on high or
their larger tormentors, the gray squirrels. They WERE cute until my
bulbs began to disappear, they WERE cute until my rock garden looked
like the Smurfs used a rototiller on it, they WERE cute until my ground
cover garden showed up with tunnels.
I know, I hear the words, "They were there first and you moved into THEIR territory".
And
I have always been one to say those very words myself, until they
became MY problem. So my solution for next year will be to lay down
chicken wire, then we will all be happy.
There have been a few
freezing nights now, the leaves on the aspens are turning that
wonderful lemon yellow and wood smoke wafts through the air fromwood stoves. The aspens have grown enough to finally "shhhhh
" when there is a breeze, one of my favorite sounds and the bucks that
pass through every night have lost all their velvet. They've left
pieces of it on the smaller pine trees they've been battling. They are
just now in the early stages of pretend fighting and so every now and
then we can hear the click-click-click of their antlers as they test
their budding prowess in the arena of life.
This year we splurged
on ourselves and bought two kayaks so we could explore the 50+ lakes
and ponds in our area. Our first adventure took us to Devil's Lake,
only about 9 acres and 12 feet deep at the most, but a lake that is so
clear and refreshing from one end to the other with most of the color
being that alpine blue-green. We tested our kayaks for several hours,
stopping for lunch and to tether ourselves to a large boulder in the
water. Shortly after that we headed for the loading area, ready to head
home after such a wonderful lazy day. Kevin noticed that my kayak
seemed a bit heavier than his and that quite a bit of water was
dripping out from the dry storage area in the rear. When he popped off
the seal to look inside he discovered about ten gallons of water that
had seeped in during our time on the lake. I know now that when Kevin
gets silent, something is in the works. Twenty minutes later we were in
the parking lot atREI, unloading both kayaks when Kevin says, "Well, do you want to stay in the truck or come in with me?" Hmmm
, I think most women will understand why I chose to stay out in the
truck. Needless to say, about an hour and a half later there were two
new and better quality kayaks in the trailer as we headed home. The
very next weekend we were able to take out the new ones back at Devil's
Lake and this time not only did they perform better and with more ease,
they didn't seem to absorb any water.

Happy Fathers' Day

Father's Day

This day of honor brings an occasional tear and quiet reflection now.
My dad is gone, physically, but spiritually and emotionally my dad is with me in my heart. As with my mother who passed away 33 years ago, he is in my conscious thought every day. So dad, this is for you...

I thank you for the fruit trees you planted all over our front and backyards so that by the time I was 7 or 8, I could fully appreciate the springtime that brought out the scents of orange and lemon blossoms, the apricot tree that I would sit under when the fruit was ripe and eat the fallen ones until I was sick. There were other trees; a purple plum that mom would make jam from, nectarines that filled a bowl of whole milk and sprinkled with sugar , I thank you for planting that one, tiny, struggling Concord grape vine, you know, the one where you never reaped a grape in it's entire age. You can thank me for that one, dad, I found that vine somewhere around the age of springtime and scavenged every single ripe grape that survived insects and fowl. There was also a hybrid tree that produced a fruit called a loquat, something the size of an apricot with a shiny, peach colored skin, a huge double seed in the center and juice that squirted out when you bit into it. Oh that was another one that you used to think didn't produce much, but it sure did, dad.
There are so many stories and so many wonderful memories, along with a little guilt for giving you those troublesome teenage years. How I know now that I didn't even have a clue about life and thought you were the one who didn't know anything. I remember somewhere around mid-teen years when you told me, "Your body is growing faster than your head". "Whatever, dad, what a crazy thing to say, you are so weird". Of course, when I had a teenage daughter that very thought--in your voice, no less--rushed through my mind as well and I received the very same look from mine that I gave to you.
It wasn't until I was old enough for it to not matter anymore when mom told me about the lemon tree. She said you planted it in front of my bedroom window when I was around two so that when I was a teenager it would be a natural barricade. It certainly was a wonderful deterrant; when I would open my window in the spring the aroma would fill my room and by the time I was 12, the lemon tree was roof high and wide enough to shade both bedroom windows! The branches were thick and many twisted into a tough barricade and for some reason, I seem to remember thorns on that tree. I laugh now, dad.
I have childhood friends who tell me how they thought you were so funny, I can appreciate it now, but at 13 I was horrified and mortally embarrassed by some of the things you did. Many of us can remember a show called "The Munsters" with one family character named Uncle Fester. Now, I recall seeing old snapshots of you with curly blonde hair but sometime after the end of WW2 and your return home, you developed alopecia and lost all of your hair, even your eyelashes. To me, you always looked normal because I never saw anything else. I never fully loved your sense of humor until later on in life. I did find it difficult to appreciate it when my friends would knock on the front door and you answered wearing a black turtleneck and a lightbulb stuck in your mouth (something Uncle Fester did on the show...).
Oh you had your quirks and I remember a scenario where you were so fed up with the accumulation of doggy poop in the yard that you wrapped a few collections up in boxes and fancy present wrap. You had caught a few of the neighbors' dogs visiting and depositing in the yard so you graciously returned their pet's gifts, lovingly wrapped and left on the neighbor's front porches.
But dad, you also had your love and your little wisdoms. You stood by me when I needed it the most and didn't give up on me, you protected me when I was young and stupid, when my thinking processes weren't complete. Once, when I was getting ready for a formal dance, you coached me on the placement of the silverware on the table; the salad fork was first and the dinner fork was on the outside and you only cut a few pieces of meat at a time and not the whole steak, Janie. Who knew you knew about that??
I have regrets that I never called you often enough after I left home, but I did write. You were a wonderful correspondant with your family and friends so I learned from you what a treasure it was to recieve a letter in the mailbox.
I know you had regrets rearing your children wishing you had done some things different, but dad, I had the best daddy I could ever have had. Sunday was our day and I remember many outings for breakfast, you would have your "longjohn" and a cup of coffee and I would have my hot cocoa and glazed donut. Maybe we would go for chili dogs and a Coke or stop by the local airport to watch the planes come in, it didn't matter because it was our time. Then there were a few camping trips to the beach or to spend the weekend with grandma and grandpa Heighes up in Grassvalley--I loved it there in the country, I had lots of room to roam and explore, build forts and just imagine...
I am thankful for the last years you were alive, our closeness and bonding and being able to share the joys and pains of parenthood. This was our comraderie. I am thankful that we both had a preparation time for your passing, I am thankful I was able to tell you how much I loved you and how sorry I was for all the pain and trouble I caused. I am thankful that I got to say goodbye.
The night after you passed away, there was an awesome sight in the dark Alaskan sky as the aurora borealis created a wispy circle in the sky instead of the usual flourescent green wave. I just felt you encircling me. The next morning as I looked to the sky again, I watched a flock of Canada geese pointed south and I said, "Goodbye daddy, I love you! I'll miss you! They'll help take you Home..."

Grandma Dayz

It is early summer here in central Oregon
and I am finally catching some much appreciated time off. The weather
has been mostly overcast with intermittent rain, of which I am not
complaining like most residents here because I know what's coming. I
call them "Death Valley Days", when the heat is searing and the
humidity does seem high (at least to me) come August. The leaves of the
trees seem brighter and greener, the dust is down, my allergies have
abated somewhat, the newly-popped blossoms of lilacs and fruit trees
permeate the air. Fresh air!
A few days ago Sara asked me if I
would like to join her on one of her hikes around Bend and I heartily
agreed to do so. She said this hike was about five miles and that
moment there was a spike in my heart rate. Five miles?? Jeez , I
haven't hiked five straight miles in a few years but hey, with what I
do at work I was pretty sure I could handle this. I walk a lot in my
work and there is a considerable amount of lifting so I was pretty sure
that the ol' mean, Granny machine could produce the muscle and stamina right to the finish line.

"Mom, do you have walking shoes? How about shorts or something like
sweats so you don't chafe? Do you have a hooded sweatshirt and a
headband so your ears won't get cold?". This brought memories of the
days when it was me throwing out those questions when the family would
go camping. I scrounged up some comfy pants to wear, an old sweatshirt
complete with hood, my headband, sunglasses, cell phone (not like
anyone calls) and my camera.
We did diaper changes and got bottles ready, changed The Boyz
and grabbed the blankets and of course, Teddy. Teddy is Evan's stuffed
buddy and goes everywhere Evan goes. We didn't have to worry about a
buddy for Eric since he's not quite formed that kind of buddy
attachment yet. Out to the garage where Sara loaded Evan and Eric in
the bike trailer, tucked them in and zipped them up and we were ready
to go. There was sunshine and not a cloud in the sky, a good breeze was
going so we could work up a sweat and still be cool. Off we
strode at a fairly brisk pace and Sara says, "Can ya keep up, Mom?".
Hey, I can do this, ya know.
Two blocks into the walk, I start to think. Thinking is not always good. "Do I back out now while it's still early? Ah jeez,
I'm gonna feel this tomorrow and the next day and the next. No no no,
I'm going to do this because it's good for me, it's time with Sara and
my grandsons and I get to see and smell wonderful aromas and work a few muscles that
don't usually get it." Sara had a good pace going as she was pushing
the bike trailer, the boys were settled in the tiny cab like sardines
in a can and I was changing my thoughts from "Can I? to I can do this!". It
took us a few more blocks to get our rhythm and we settled in. It truly was a great day for this jaunt, in between various silences we chatted about previous walks Sara had made, newsy tidbits with the occasional "How are ya doin'?" inquiries.

We passed quaint little houses with lovely flower gardens and 'natural'
landscaping, little shops and stores I had never seen before that pass
by so quickly when you are in a car. There was a tiny little park by
the DeSchutes River that sidelined us for a few moments, we enjoyed the
scenery while I took some photos of Sara with Eric and Evan in their
little car.
Another place that sidelined us was a strip mall with Macy's and T.J. Maxx, good
thing we left most of our money at home as we grabbed a cup of coffee
at a drive-up coffee shop before hitting the stores. Macy's was a bit
of a disappointment, we seem to get some sort of attitude from the
clerks every time we go in there. Next stop was T.J. Maxx , it was fun
and relaxing to peruse the decorating items they have and I succumbed
to a huge bar of soap with the most wonderful fragrance of jasmine. By
this time the boys were getting antsy, Evan wanted to stretch his legs.
We let him out so he could walk while holding onto Grandma's hand but
oh no, he wasn't going to have much of that. After some gentle coaxing
he just wasn't going to go with this so he plopped down on the floor
with a little tantrum. I swooped him up in a flash and as I was going
through the exit door I remarked to Sara, "Well, been there and done
that before, ha ha!". We stuffed and packaged them back into their trailer and took off for the second half of our trek.

Sara had warned me that the uphill climb on Mt. Washington was a real
workout so I mentally prepped myself and off we went. But really, the
worst part of the whole hike was attempting to go through a four second
pedestrian crosswalk! Our allotted four seconds were taken up by
drivers that never saw us or ignored us because they just had to get
past us first! I would say that Mt. Washington was at least a half-mile
climb, I don't know the grade but if we were going downhill and were to
let go of the bike trailer , it would definitely race down at a pretty
good speed. Pushing the trailer uphill with two babies in it increased
the heart rate pretty good. At one point, Sara took Eric out because he
simply wanted to be held, so while she trudged up the hill carrying
Eric (who probably weighs about 18 pounds) I was pushing Evan in the bike trailer.

We finally made it to the top after a few stops for me, which by this
time I was just a bit winded but still holding my own pretty good. The
view from the top was worth the hike; it was a 360 degree scene of Bend
in a bowl! The mountains were in clear view, a nice breeze to keep us
cool and full sunshine. The rest was literally all downhill. Upon our arrival
back home, Sara asked me if would be willing to do this again and I said sure I would, just not tomorrow.

I wouldn't have passed this day up unless I was literally bed-ridden. A
lovely day with my daughter and grandsons. Definitely food for the soul.

Now, two days later I am feeling fairly great, the long walk didn't do nearly
as much damage as I thought it would and I am ready for another one. Next week.

Mother's Day

 
Mother's Day. How blessed I am to have a daughter who lives close enough to share eventful times with. This year was even more warm and fuzzy when my special day included a visit from Sara, Bret and "The Boyz", as I call the babies now. As the little familys' car drove up the driveway I was finding it hard to contain my excitement; sunshine and good weather favored us this day so Evan could have a little play time outside with the BIG trucks mommy and daddy brought along. The day before I had purchased some New York steaks to barbecue for our special dinner. Kevin and I both went out to greet them and I heard this, "Wait Mom, Evan has a surprise for Grandma so don't come any closer".
Okay okay, I'll hold back. Mommy was carrying Evan and Evan was holding a bouquet of bright, sunshiny tulips for Grandma. As they rounded the rear of the vehicle, Evan promptly tossed them on the ground. Mommy may have been surprized but I just like to have those grandmother thoughts that Evan was tossing them with love at my feet. (:

Daddy toted out little brother Eric who was just happy anyway and it didn't matter what was going on but there would be twice as much attention today. Then papa brought out Evan's Tonka trucks and set them down in the dirt. Grandma and Grandpa have an acre of dirt, just the right amount for a 2 year old to fill the bellies of the trucks and get dirty. There was soooo much room to roam that Evan didn't know where to start: Hmmmm, oh gosh, maybe I'll throw some dirt in the dumptruck, oh let me see, I haven't tasted this before so let me shove some in my mouth---eeewwwwww! I'll run to daddy and share, maybe he'll like it. Okay, he doesn't do dirt so he can wipe off my hands. That's done, where to next??? Wow, so much dirt, so much room, trees, run, oh try this door on the garage, run back to the dump truck, scoop some more dirt, oh distractions! distractions! What do I do next? Where to just run? And ya know what? Not ONE getouttathereanddon'ttouchthat. THIS is cool!

Can you tell this was one of Grandma's treasured moments? A few hours to share with my family; my fabulous husband and beautiful daughter, wonderful son-in-law and the best grandbabies in the world.

We settled in for some chat and grandbaby play, lit up the b-b-q, Kevin made a run into La Pine to get a batch of diapers (remember those days of packing everything and forgetting at least something that was important?). I had made a batch of homemade potato salad to go with our New Yorks, literally threw together a storebought angelfood cake with whipped cream and strawberries for dessert and we sat down to eat, sharing babies around the table. What more could I ask for? We gave Sara a bouquet of baby's breath and gerbera daisies (her favorite) and we exchanged Mothers' Day cards. This card is more touching than usual with it's expression of sharing motherhood and coming to understand all the gooey and sappy things and feelings I have had for so long, now she knows why I am the way I am, lol!

Then it was time to go since babies sort of rule the roost for a few years with their schedules of baths and bedtimes, the day was coming to a close but so full of love, laughter, joy and another memory to put to paper.

Other than the first few Mothers' Day celebrations when my two were little, this is a topper...

Spring in the high desert

You know it's spring here now, the ravens are camping out on the highway, staking their claims on the most recent road kill. As I was driving to work yesterday, I came pretty close to having grilled vulture as one flew down to rob the ravens of their prize, then it immediately flew away two feet before I plastered him on the radiator. The Stellars' jays are screaching at each other and at the squirrels who are hording up at the local bird feeders. Peanuts are the grand cache lately. The trash cans now wear a new elastic belt, style by Bunji, to keep the racoons out. Kevin cleaned up a mess from the other nights' first raid. I don't think I want to run into one of them since the dusty paw prints that were left on the outside of the plastic trash bin were huge! I would make a guess that it's at least a 50 pounder by the size of it's feet. They are getting free food from somewhere if they are bigger than my grandson, lol!
And last night the bullfrogs were in full chorus-if you didn't know what they were you would have thought it was a generator running. I stepped out on the front deck about ten p.m. to see the stars, smell the air and listen to nature, that's my nighttime toddy. There are a few daffodils trying to pretty up the landscape and my tulips have survived the first deer raid, courtesy of ACE fencing. I notice out here where we live that you can actually smell the dirt in the air at night, smell the pine needles. I sure miss that heady aroma of clover in Alaska's spring...

Easter

For the past few weeks I have been sublimely coasting along on my internal clock, believing I had lots of time to get Easter cards and send them out, spend time with family or just plain celebrate.
But YESTERDAY I was rudely and verbally slapped in the face by our local newscasters with the information that Easter is THIS Sunday! Good grief, I had been thinking I had an extra week to not hurry or worry.
All the signs were there that it was coming.
The grocery stores were loaded with Easter baskets, candy and cards. Turkey, hams and lambs have been rolling through the cash registers as if it were a bowling marathon. "Boy, people are really getting on the ball, buying early for once", I thought. Occasionally I would hear someone call out "Happy Easter" just thinking they were strange.
Well, thanks to some person named Gregory and his collisional (my own made up word)disagreement with the Julian calendar, he has managed to screw up my nicely organized mental calendar. It all has to do with the number of days in a month, the vernal equinox and I'm sure that even Greenwich has it's hands-no pun intended-in there.
I do know that I will have lots of time before it ever comes this early again, 230 some odd years, in fact. Lots of time to make Easter eggs, paint paper plates, grow some lilies and send out cards. Whew! I just have to get the ones in between that one all figured out. Now, if I can just get my sun and moon dates figured out, I might just be ahead of the game...

Is it any wonder I am confused? Here is a look at the past dates of Easter...
1989 March 26 April 30
1990 April 15
1991 March 31 April 7
1992 April 19 April 26
1993 April 11 April 18
1994 April 3 May 1
1995 April 16 April 23
1996 April 7 April 14
1997 March 30 April 27
1998 April 12 April 19
1999 April 4 April 11
2000 April 23 April 30
2001 April 15
2002 March 31 May 5
2003 April 20 April 27
2004 April 11
2005 March 27 May 1
2006 April 16 April 23
2007 April 8
2008 March 23 April 27
2009 April 12 April 19
2010 April 4
2011 April 24
2012 April 8 April 15
2013 March 31 May 5
2014 April 20
2015 April 5 April 12
2016 March 27 May 1
2017 April 16
2018 April 1 April 8
2019 April 21 April 28
2020 April 12 April 19

Easter and the holidays that are related to it are movable feasts, in that they do not fall on a fixed date in the Gregorian or Julian calendars (both of which follow the cycle of the sun and the seasons)

In any event, may you all have a wondrous and beautiful Easter.

Lifelong Degree

Most people get their degree from a university.
Most people wear a cap and gown.
Most people get a handshake from a professor and a fancy piece of paper to frame and hang on their wall.
This one can take a lifetime to earn, if you are lucky.
This is one of the hardest things I have ever earned in my life. You know, the more I think about it, I am happier to have earned this one than any other one I could try for.

The cost is beyond imagination
The time is 24/7
The test failures are excruciating
The test passing is phenominal rewarding
The time invested is way beyond the usual recommendation
But the prize is invaluable.


"Parental Happiness Degree".


I have been nominated as one of my daughter's heroes in her life.