Capturing the Spirit of Independence

What could be better than gaining your freedom by learning how to walk and celebrating the 4th of July early with a march around the livingroom? Viva life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qjI52Oxj5Wc

It's the American way!

"What Tempo, Captain?" "Tempo, Tempo...a Tarantella!"

I get a perverse pleasure thinking about my daughter, Brittany’s, daughter, Annie, taking piano lessons. Although she is not quite 6 years old, she started with her teacher 2 weeks ago…Wednesday mornings around 10 o’clock. In Minnesota. Annie played for me the other day her first 2 pieces that she’s learning. Because it was on speaker phone I also heard Brittany try to gently correct her and heard a little almost-6-years-old prideful retalliation from Annie of, “Mother, I know how to do this.”

After she was done and I gave Annie all the normal Grandma “oohs” and “aahs” of being greatly impressed, Brittany then got back on the phone. I think she heard me snickering, possibly snorting.

“Brittany,” I said. “Do you know what great joy I take in hearing this little interchange?”

“Really, why?” she wondered.

I then proceeded to remind her that in all the states we lived in and of all the music lessons I involved my kids with, saxophone for Eli, flute for Chelsea, and piano for all three of them, ONLY Brittany insisted, from a very young age that she really didn’t need to learn the notes. When I would sit next to her while she practiced and I’d try to explain what a low C or low E was, she’d get all indignant, huffy, insulted, impatient, and brush me off. She neither wanted nor required my help—thank you very much! Her teachers (there were several) all notified me that she didn’t know her notes. How can that be? I would ask. She’d been taking for years. They all pointed out that she’d learned to memorize what the teacher had played and try to copy it. I would write the names of the notes next to the letter. I bought flash cards and asked her to review them with me. I’d point to the notes and ask what they were. This always led to open rebellion. I candidly admit here that our little conversations on this subject were not benign and were often punctuated with loud voices. And I’d eventually slink away.

The idea of Brittany being such a little radical when it comes to learning the piano seems hard to believe in the present day. She is such a wonderful loving mother and wife who desires to be obedient to God and serve everyone she lives with and meets. But that old piano thing. It caused many years of frustration on my part back then. And now it makes me laugh.

Because it’s true…what goes around comes around…payback is heck…and Karma is a Beach. I can’t wait to hear more of Annie’s lessons. I rub my palms together, back and forth with glee in anticipation and let out a cackling howl. Cruella De Vil ain’t got nuttin’ on me!

Annie Girl, granddaughter of my heart---go get 'em, tiger!

Sand

Sand

Sand in my swimsuit,

Sand in my hair,

When I go to the beach

Sand gets everywhere!
I wonder, I wonder,

Oh, how can there be

Sand left at the beach

When there's so much on me?

-Helen H. Moore

Celebrations

Picking up Chelsea from work at 4:30 on Friday afternoon, I drove her and Sawyer up to Granite Bay for the Memorial Day weekend We knew we’d run into lousy LA traffic but we wanted to get on the road, the sooner the better. It really wasn’t that awful. A trip I’d made before alone with Sawyer in 7 ½ hours only took 9 hours, and that included rush hour and 4 pit stops. I told the Gallachers I thought I’d be in around 1:30am and amazingly, we arrived at their long driveway at…1:30 exactly. My brother-in-law, Kelly, was sleeping in front of the TV, being kind enough to “stay up” for us. I felt special. No one waits up for me—ever. The drive on I-5 is a cakewalk for me and while Chelsea and Sawyer slept, I enjoyed my itunes mix on my iphone, after first catching up on last week’s “Car Talk”. I LOVE LOVE LOVE that show. No matter how gloomy the weather or I might be, Tom and Ray can always get a laugh out of me. http://www.cartalk.com/menus/show.html

Saturday morning, my sister, Marlene, and I took Sawyer for a 2-mile stroll down Itchy Acres. It’s a walk we used to take many mornings when I lived up there, a walk that allowed us to share many ideas over the years, and I wanted Sawyer to see the chickens at the end of the street. Needless to say, he was very excited when I pushed the stroller right up next to the coop. We also saw the most beautiful giant purple clematis up against a rock wall.

Eli and his cute girlfriend, Carrie, along with his long-haired German Shepherd, Belle, arrived in the afternoon. The Gallachers, as usual, had a fabulous feast prepared for all of us which also included their youngest kids, Cami and Briggs, my sister, Sandy, her husband, Bill, from Woodland, and our parents. We were celebrating Eli’s 36th birthday on the 27th and Mom’s 86th birthday on the 28th. Eli was Mom’s first grandchild, he was born on Memorial Day in 1974, exactly 1 day before she turned 50. Belle and the Gallacher dogs, Mirabelle and Sam, ran like crazy across the acreage. We sang birthday songs, ate birthday cake, and later played mucho rounds of Mexican Train and The South African Dice Game (that’s not the real name but that’s what I call it).

Carrie and Eli

Sandy and Bill

Kelly, Carrie, Bill, Eli, Sawyer, Chelsea...Yummers!

Marlene, our very own Ina Garten

Dad, our very own WWII Vet, me, Mom

Sunday church started early at 8:30. Sawyer and Chelsea stayed home and went on a nature walk and looked at the horses. I really enjoyed being able to see my friends from my former ward. It was strange sitting in the row I always sat in by Cami and Briggy with Marlene and Kelly behind us, no Sawyer on my lap. I kept thinking to myself, “So this is what my life would be like if I hadn’t moved to Orange County two years ago. Still sitting here with all these fine people. Still attending the same Sunday school class. Still appreciating all the goodness in Loomis”. Yet for all I’ve been through since that move, I couldn’t imagine my life without my new ward in Monarch Beach and my new friends and my new neighbors. And my little Sawyer, sharing the sacrament with me on Sundays, sitting on my lap. Another classic Gallacher feast of the Austrian type and 5 of Cami’s friends for Sunday dinner along with our folks and many more rounds of Mexican Train completed our Sabbath. The weather was the most perfect of all on that day, not too hot, not too breezy, but really just perfect.

Choo choo

On Monday we all got a late start due to more Mexican Train. Marlene and I finally made it to the grocery store to pick up food for the yummy cheeseburgers in paradise. We dallied when we should have dillied and got home later than expected. Chelsea was trying to get organized and I packed up so we could get on the road. We hugged good-by to Mom and Dad and hugged all the Gallachers and wished we could stay longer. We finally pulled out around 4:30 (this seems to be the magic hour of departure) but made it home an hour sooner than before, arriving by 12:30. Once again, an easy drive, less traffic, and a stop at the cherry stand near Patterson. I can drive a long way with fresh cherries, sunflower seeds, and a bottle of citrus water.

Briggs with Sawyer

Cami with Sawyer

Chelsea, Sawyer, me, Mom, Dad-4 generations on Memorial Day

Thank you, Gallachers, for your wonderful hospitality. Thank you for letting us come to the oasis and letting us drink. Thank you for letting us slumber peacefully and awaken refreshed. Thank you, thank you, thank you. It was only 3 days, but a respite well-needed and graciously offered.

It's June, It's June, Whatever Happened to May?

Cheryl Woolf Munns around 6 years of age

My sister, Cheryl, wanted a “sparkly” birthday on May 17th. I haven’t lived by her since she got married 40 years ago, but now that I’m down in Orange County we’re about an hour away from each other. So I invited her to get a substitute for her 2nd graders on Monday and join me at the beach. She said she wanted to wake up to a “sparkly” day and would come down the night before. As it turned out she came 2 nights before because another sister, Sandy, was in town for 24 hours. In the course of people coming and going, along with Holly (my former step-daughter) and Masa (her husband) and Masa’s cousin passing through town on their way to a funeral we had dinner and talking and more food and more talking. We made mosaic frames from left-over broken dishes collected after my parents’ house burned down. We walked along the beach in overcast weather--one wave completely knocked me off my feet, wiped me out, and drenched me from toe to head. Sandy tried to help me stay upright but she wasn’t strong enough to wrestle with Mother Nature and none of us could stop laughing. Chelsea said when see saw us walking in from the garage we all looked like monsters from the deep lagoon, hunched over, plodding, and scary.

Sawyer, me, Sandy, & Cheryl (the jacket wrapped around Cheryl because she, too, was drenched-except not her hair, how did that happen?) after Sandy loaded up her car. Yes, I know I'm the runt, always have been, always will be. And Cheryl and I still have a 6 in our age.

Sandy left Sat. around 3:30 and Cheryl and I went to the movies. Since we saw “Letters to Juliet” we had to eat Macaroni Grill take-out afterwards for dinner. Sunday, she was home for her church but came back again that night. On her “sparkly day” we went to the mall, ate lunch at PF Changs, and she went shopping for just a few things. 5 hours later she was well-supplied with wonderful new clothes, shoes, and a purse. After picking Chelsea up from work we had Cheryl give us a fashion show of all her new stuff. It was so much fun. I made her promise to give away everything in her closet that she hadn’t worn in the past year OR everything that she no longer needed now that she had a brand new wardrobe. I hope she did. I think we all sparkled celebrating her birthday.

Is there anything more enchanting than the following poem by William Wordsworth?

To My Sister

It is the first mild day of March:
Each minute sweeter than before
The redbreast sings from the tall larch
That stands beside our door.

There is a blessing in the air,
Which seems a sense of joy to yield
To the bare trees, and mountains bare,
And grass in the green field.

My sister! ('tis a wish of mine)
Now that our morning meal is done,
Make haste, your morning task resign;
Come forth and feel the sun.

Edward will come with you;--and, pray,
Put on with speed your woodland dress;
And bring no book: for this one day
We'll give to idleness.

No joyless forms shall regulate
Our living calendar:
We from to-day, my Friend, will date
The opening of the year.

Love, now a universal birth,
From heart to heart is stealing,
From earth to man, from man to earth:
--It is the hour of feeling.

One moment now may give us more
Than years of toiling reason:
Our minds shall drink at every pore
The spirit of the season.

Some silent laws our hearts will make,
Which they shall long obey:
We for the year to come may take
Our temper from to-day.

And from the blessed power that rolls
About, below, above,
We'll frame the measure of our souls:
They shall be tuned to love.

Then come, my Sister! come, I pray,
With speed put on your woodland dress;
And bring no book: for this one day
We'll give to idleness.