The Mercy Finder

JESUS CHRIST, SAVIOR AND REDEEMER

2011-12-19T20:46:00.000-08:00

(My Sacrament meeting talk on 12/18)

When I was about 6 or 7 my very busy mother decided it would be fun to teach Christmas carols to her children and all the neighbor kids so that we could then go caroling to the rest of the neighborhood. We met for several weeks in our small livingroom while my mom taught us as many songs as we could learn. At the end we made caramel popcorn balls, wrapped in red and green cellophane, to hand out, so at least if the neighbors didn’t like our voices, they might like our goodies. Sometimes when I want to remember bygone days feeling the Christmas spirit I think back to those few Decembers as it became a tradition for a while. It was so fun to walk around several blocks singing with our friends who also were in kindergarten thru 6^th grade. There were at least 10 or 15 of us. I learned to love Christmas carols from that experience. I’ve loved caroling anytime I get an opportunity, whether it be on a boat on Lake Merritt in the Oakland Bay Area, for a Mutual activity, on the hills of Bethlehem, and especially in my car with my grandchildren.

The night before I was asked to speak in Sacrament meeting the words and melody to the Christmas choir song “O Come Let Us Adore Him” were trapped in my mind. I went to sleep hearing it, spent half the night hearing it, and woke up hearing it. Now, being asked to speak, I’ve decided to use the words from “O Come All Ye Faithful” for my inspiration.

“O Come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant, O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem. Come and behold Him, born the king of angels. O Come Let Us Adore Him, O Come Let Us Adore Him, O Come Let Us Adore Him, Christ the Lord.”

O, Come…What a welcoming phrase. A warm invitation. To step forward, embrace, remember, celebrate all those that are filled with faith. I like being invited to things. I liked being invited to sing to our neighbors. It makes me feel special at the same time feeling part of something larger. But what does it mean to be faithful or full of faith? Are we full of faith in our Savior Jesus Christ and if so, why, what do we have faith in?

The subject of faith is beyond exhaustive. We know that faith is a belief in things hoped for but not seen. In Alma 32:21 we read, “Faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore if ye have faith ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true”.

I have not yet seen Jesus Christ in my mortal life, but I have faith that He lives and loves me, that He was born at the meridian of time and walked on this earth doing good, performing miracles and going about our Heavenly Father’s business. I have felt his spirit and influence in my life many times. I have had dreams of Him. I have turned to him as my great and perfect exemplar. When I fall on my knees or hide in my closet in despair or plead for his arms to be wrapped around me, His peace and comfort envelops me as He comes to me. I have hope for a brighter future. I feel faith-full and I know that when I repent and am forgiven I am worthy to come to Him. I feel joy and I seek His spirit in his holy temple and in the faces of the ordinance workers. I seek for and behold his face in the lost and downtrodden, the beggars and the homeless, knowing that they are not alone, that He loves all of us. I seek for and behold His face in my friends and family, in nature, and in the faces and voices of the members of the Mormon Tabernacle choir as they sing praises to Him. I behold His face in our Prophet Thomas S. Monson, in our apostles, and in our local stake and ward leaders, especially our Bishop, as they minister to us so kindly and lovingly.

I was reading online about Jenny Oaks Baker, the Grammy-nominated violinist daughter of Apostle Dallin H. Oaks. In her biography she mentions how she met her husband at a singles ward on the east coast. She was handing out programs at the door; he walked in. She climbed over several people to sit by him. He started trying to impress her by telling her his father had been a bishop, stake president, and now mission president. She then, which she swears she never ever does, responded with “Well my father’s an apostle!” What was he to say after that? I guess the yin and yang of courtship began. Game on.

As I thought about this anecdote I wondered why he didn’t come back with, “Well, my elder brother is Jesus Christ.” Then she could have said, “Mine, too” and they would have been even more united with all things in common. As we are. Knowing that Jesus Christ, our elder brother, who descended below all things so He could overcome all things, even death, the great and supernal sacrifice, so that all of us could overcome death, I feel triumphant!

Doctrine & Covenants 88:6-14 is so beautiful. It reads:

“He that ascended up on high, as also he descended below all things, in that he comprehendeth all things, that he might be in all and through all things, the light of truth; Which truth shineth. This is the light of Christ. As also he is in the sun, and the light of the sun, and the power thereof by which it was made. As also he is in the moon, and is the light of the moon, and the power thereof by which it was made;

As also the light of the stars, and the power thereof by which they were made; And the earth also, and the power thereof, even the earth upon which you stand. And the light which shineth, which giveth you light, is through him who enlighteneth your eyes, which is the same light that quickeneth your understandings; Which light proceedeth forth from the presence of God to fill the immensity of space—The light which is in all things, which giveth life to all things, which is the law by which all things are governed, even the power of God who sitteth upon his throne, who is in the bosom of eternity, who is in the midst of all things. Now, verily I say unto you, that through the redemption which is made for you is brought to pass the resurrection from the dead.”

I journeyed to Israel in December, 1999. It was an interesting time to be in the Holy Land when Hanukah, Ramadan, Christmas, and the new millennium intersected. I travelled with a small tour group of 15. Because of the political unrest and rioting in Bethlehem we were un-able to enter the city safely. However, on one temperate evening as the sun was falling we gathered on the hills above Bethlehem to read scriptures and sing Christmas hymns. Several Bedouin women and their small children gathered around as it had become their custom to join in the music and perhaps look for a little handout. It was a magical and sacred experience made even more special by our guide, Daniel Rona, who pointed out one of the women gathered nearby as he told us the following story. For several years the woman, accompanied by her little boy who was 5 or 6 years old, had been coming to this gathering as Dan Rona brought a group of believers to her hillside. And then suddenly she stopped coming. Brother Rona learned from some of the other women that her little boy had died and she was too heartbroken to return. Filled with sorrow for this poor woman, who had no modern technology like a photograph from which to remember her son, Brother Rona began emailing past tour groups to see if anyone had taken a picture of this mother and child. For many months, he heard nothing. And then one day a photograph arrived in the mail of the child; one of the people had been going through his slides and found a picture of him. The next time Dan Rona took a group to the Bethlehem hills, amazingly the woman had returned with the group. She stood back and was shy. Brother Rona walked up to her and handed her a photograph of her little boy. She looked in shock and amazement and then knelt down, weeping tears of joy and gratitude. A simple gift really but worth everything to a grieving mother, to see her son’s face again.

I think this is how we will feel when we again see our loved ones, knowing that they live on because Heavenly Father sacrificed His only begotten son for our sakes, to be resurrected and receive the opportunity for Eternal life.

Sing choirs of angels, sing in exultation; sing all ye citizens of heav’n above! Glory to God, Glory in the highest. O Come Let Us Adore Him, O Come Let Us Adore Him, O Come Let Us Adore Him, Christ the Lord.

We know heavenly choirs sang in exultation to the shepherds gathering on the Bethlehem hills over 2000 years ago, singling Glory to God. A year ago this week, my friend’s 43 year old daughter, Krista, passed away from a brain tumor. Krista was in every way an exceptional daughter, wife, mother, and fellow-citizen of Christ. She was also blessed with a beautiful alto singing voice and was recorded in a studio singing some of her favorite songs. At the conclusion of her funeral, immediately after the closing prayer in a completely filled stake center in Plano TX, we in the audience heard Krista’s beautiful voice singing a capella “O My Father,” ringing out from the sound system. Her husband had arranged for her amazing recording to be played as a final soul-stirring gift to us, her friends and loved ones. The hushed room sat in silent tribute joining our personal testimonies to the words: “O my Father, thou that dwellest in the high and glorious place, when shall I regain thy presence and again behold thy face?...When I leave this frail existence, when I lay this mortal by, Father, Mother, may I meet you in your royal courts on high? Then at length, when I’ve completed all you sent me forth to do, with your mutual approbation let me come and dwell with you.” All of this because of the loving tender sacrifice of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Several of Kristas’ former choir members heard Krista’s actual voice singing along with the recorded number. One in a choir of angels, singing in exultation.

This past Friday morning I received word that little 6-year old Spencer Felt, the grandson of another friend of mine, was finally receiving a heart transplant. For 3 months all who know and love this family have been hoping and praying for Spencer to be well enough to receive a new heart when one became available for him. Friday was the day. I was overcome with emotion as I received the text, being fully aware that somewhere some other group of citizens was mourning the loss of a child. I sent a prayer of gratitude to our Heavenly Father, not only for Spencer’s new heart, but for the sacrifice of one other so that Spencer could proceed forward with his destiny. And I sent a prayer of gratitude that our Savior and Eldest brother, Jesus Christ, Our Redeemer, so willingly laid down his life so we could live again.

I don’t know how Jesus did all of this. In the midst of my own personal great torment recently I wondered allowed to Heavenly Father, “How?” How was Jesus able to achieve such perfection when he was tormented and buffeted by Satan, experiencing EVERY temptation and sorrow so that he could succor us? What incomparable behavior and attributes did he develop such that he could be the Savior of the World and worlds without end?

And the answer I received was he submitted his will to the father. Not to the world, not to Satan, not to the voices of peer pressure around him, but solely to the Father. For me, then, that is the key. In learning to submit our will we take his yoke upon us, and learn of Him. By being yoked to Him, we can best learn of his perfected qualities, though only in our comparatively small ways.

Elder Neal A. Maxwell said, “If we are meek, through our smaller but similar experiences we will come to appreciate Jesus’ perfected qualities even more. Then our adoration of him produces a desire for emulation of him”.

Elder Maxwell then quoted Joseph Smith by saying, “The Prophet Joseph Smith, whose own life was lived in a crescendo of self-improvement amid adversity, observed; The nearer man approaches perfection, the clearer are his views, and the greater his enjoyments, ‘til he has overcome the evils of his life and lost every desire for sin; and like the ancients, (he) arrives at that point of faith where he is wrapped in the power and glory of his maker and is caught up to dwell with Him.” (Teachings p. 51)

The clearer one’s views, the more one sees “things as they really are,” the greater the happiness.

Yea, Lord, we greet thee, Born this happy morning; Jesus, to thee be all glory giv’n. Son of the Father, Now in flesh appearing; O Come Let Us Adore Him, O Come Let Us Adore Him, O Come Let Us Adore Him, Christ the Lord.

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Purple Oaks and Birchen Boughs

2011-10-30T09:33:00.000-07:00

The sweet calm sunshine of October, now  warms the low spot;

Upon its grassy mold the purple oak-leaf falls;

The birchen bough drops its bright spoil like arrow-heads of gold.

-William Cullen

I love how this poem perfectly captures the month of October. I love even more than reading it, speaking this poem out loud. Try it. See how it feels in your mouth. Hear how it resonates in your ears. Doesn’t it sound lush and bountiful? Like a bushel of golden apples? Ah, October! How do you leave us so quickly?

A few events in the life of the mercy finder this month:

Blessing Day for twins, Brooks and Tyler

Bathtime for cousins

Friend, Merrilyn Collin, gave Sawyer a bear named "Sawyer" from Habitat for Humanity

Juliette practicing for Zoomar Farm

The Farm and Pumpkin Patch with Brittany & kiddos, Chelsea & Sawyer... train rides, slides and guinea pigs

Disneyland with Britt, Annie, Jake, & Juliette, wherein Jake learns to be a Jedi

I love you October. Please come again soon.

The Doctor Is In

2011-10-05T02:55:00.000-07:00

It's 2 in the morning and I can't sleep. Instead I'm giggling over a conversation I had with my dad a few hours ago. I'm also listening to my dad cough and snore and my mom talking in her sleep, all of this coming through my bedside baby monitor. Uh oh, now he's up going to the bathroom. I've got to turn down the volume. There are just some things I don't want to listen to. Back to the earlier conversation.

About 11 o'clock, Dad called me downstairs:

"Joyce, I can't sleep. I need an Ambien."

"Dad, you only have one left. You've been taking them every night for the past week. Are you sure you want to use your last one tonight?" I paused looking over at mom, snoring away, mouth wide open, cheekbones prominent.

"Sure," he replied. "I'll just get some more."

"But Dad, Dr. Jungwirth doesn't want you to take it. That's why he only prescribed 10 pills. At first he wasn't going to give you any."

"That's all right. I'll just go get them from Dr. Urge."

"Dr. Urge? You don't know a doctor Urge."

"Sure I do. He's the one who gave me my antibiotics," Dad explained. "Come with me and I'll show you tomorrow. He's down at the corner."

"Dad," I said, "that was Dr. Wilson at Urgent Care."

"I didn't go to Urgent Care. I went to Dr. Urge!" Dad now insisted.

"No Dad, Dr. Jungwirth is your doctor but he couldn't see you for the pneumonia so I took you to Urgent Care. Not the ER, Urgent Care. And Dr. Wilson prescribed the antibiotics."

Dad paused. "I want to see Dr. Urge. I know he'll give them to me."

I walked into the kitchen and got dad the last Ambien.

I know I live in an asylum. A year ago my visiting brother, John, told Mom he was the doctor when she insisted at 3AM that she needed to tell a doctor about all the terrible things going on around her. At first she called for the police. When John's imitation of a police officer didn't satisfy her she asked for the doctor.

John walked into her room and said, "Hello Olea. I'm the doctor."

"You're the doctor? What's your name?" she asked.

"Dr. Strangelove," he responded without missing a beat.

I think I'll take myself, and my ankles that sound like castanets when I walk, into the bathroom to find the Tums. And maybe the Aleve. And while I'm at it, watch an Alfred Hitchcock movie on my laptop. That sounds like a better solution than Ambien.

Achieving Inner Peace (thanks, Holly)

2011-09-26T18:17:00.000-07:00

If you can start the day without caffeine,

If you can be cheerful, ignoring aches and pains,

If you can resist complaining and boring people with your troubles,

If you can eat the same food every day and be grateful for it,

If you can understand when your loved ones are too busy to give you any time,

If you can take criticism and blame without resentment,

If you can conquer tension without medical help,

If you can relax without alcohol,

If   you can sleep without the aid of drugs,


...Then   You Are Probably ..........

  The   Family Dog!

Double Your Pleasure, Double Your Fun--A Grandma's Perspective

2011-09-01T19:26:00.000-07:00

One week ago today, August 24th, two little boys came into this world. Brooks Nolan and Tyler Douglas Archibald. What a happy event that was. The plan was for Brittany to be induced that morning. She was at 38 weeks and one day, and on September 9th the Archibald family leaves for their new home and job in California. The day passed slowly while I held down the fort w/ the older 3 kids at Chuck E. Cheese in West St. Paul. The plan also involved me running over to the hospital when she was close to delivery so that I could be there to experience what in my opinion is one of life's most spiritual moments--the entering into mortality of your grandchild, and in case this, two grandchildren. Unfortunately, the nurses weren't checking Brittany too frequently and she was beyond transition and ready to push when they checked her again. A quick phone call to me from Jordan was helpful, but still I was stuck in traffic as there was some big event going on very near the hospital while I was threading my way through traffic. I missed it by about 10 minutes. Rats! (speaking of Chuck).

This is what went on in the delivery room before I got there, captured by a nurse:

I guess they weren't happy until they saw each other again (Brooks has the pink ribbon on the hat and Tyler has the yellow ribbon--they're comfortable with their masculinity.)

The proud parents with their newest additions to the family, Jordan moderately dazed and confused.

As I went sliding around the corner past the nurses station trying to find them and was told they would be coming out of the delivery/OR soon and to wait in their room, I kept stepping outside the door to see if they were coming down the hallway. About 10 minutes later I saw Brittany being pushed on a gurney and Jordan close behind wheeling the babies, no longer looking shell-shocked. Both were absolutely ecstatic!

I couldn't wait to get my arms wrapped around these little tykes. But it's weird because first you look at one baby and then you look at the other, then you look back at the first, then you look back at the other....It's hard to comprehend that their momma just had two babies (to paraphrase Jake's earlier Youtube announcement).

I couldn't stay forever. Jordan and Britt's sister-in-law, Courtney, who lives right down the street from them had rushed over to relieve me from watching the older kids as I flew out the door for the hospital and by 11 o'clock I'm sure she was ready to get back to her family. The next morning, after getting the kids going and making sure the house was immaculate in case we had any showings, Annie, Jake, Juliette and I headed back to St. Paul and the hospital. The kids couldn't wait to meet their new brothers. And I couldn't wait to snuggle up with them again. Courtney also visited. She has twin girls that are 13 months old so she was very comfortable with this "twin" thing.

Annie, delighted oldest sister

Jake, thrilled oldest brother

Nannie Joy, convinced you can never get enough of a good thing so why not have two?

You can see by now we started getting smart. Courtney suggested putting their initial on their hats to make it easier to tell them apart. Above I'm holding Tyler. Here I'm holding Brooks.

First family photo along with the flowers the kids brought for their mom.

Aunt Courtney

These guys are so far very easy babies.

By the third day, all were ready to go home. Apparently, the entire labor and delivery hospital staff was still talking about what a superstar Brittany was in the delivery room. They said they'd never seen anything like it in all their collective experience. She was calm, peaceful, radiant, and, I guess, born to be a mom. Jordan didn't pass out cigars, but he was a shining example of a tremendous husband and father.

Our little Juliette is only 21 months old. She was so excited to have someone younger than her to play with. But she wasn't quite sure at first who was better, "bobbi" or "baby".

She figured it out with the help of her mom.

So here they are at 3 days old. Brooks is in the blue and sleeping. Tyler is in the print and wide awake.

And here we have them again. Home and settling in. One big happy family. As a mom I count my blessings with each of my children and count them again and again and again with my grandchildren. How fortunate I am to be able to watch my posterity grow and be able to hug and kiss and love each one of these precious children. And I'm even more fortunate to know that this little, whoops, I mean big family will soon be living just a few miles away from me so that when I get on the plane on Saturday I won't really be saying goodbye but "see ya in a few days!"

PS and speaking of a few days, it's taken me a few days just to write this...I can see things are changing already. And speaking of changing already, we can tell them apart. It just took a little bit of time and observation. But BOY oh BOY, aren't they precious?!

Please Pass the Turkey

2011-08-05T21:20:00.000-07:00

Conversation with my mom tonight as I was helping her get ready for bed---

Mom: Did you say your name was Maren?
Me: No, I'm Joyce. I'm your daughter Joyce. We have the same last name.
Mom: We do?
Me: Yes, you're my mother.
Mom: Your real live mother?
Me: Yes.
Mom: Well, well.

She reaches out her skinny bony fingers and starts to touch and caress my cheek, my jawline and my neck, the very same that I'm so self-conscious about with my jowls and wrinkly saggy skin.

Mom: You're so very well-carved!

Ahhh, the unconditional love of a mother. Soothing even at my age.

Things to Look Forward To

2011-07-26T10:30:00.000-07:00

1. Next week I fly to Sacramento for my niece, CAILEY's, wedding shower. I won't be able to attend the wedding since I'll be in Minnesota helping with the birth of the latest Archibald twins.

2. Spend a few weeks in Woodbury, MN on vacation??? helping Brittany with her new little boys that should be arriving sometime in the next few weeks

3. Chicago Book Group retreat in September.

4. France. Date to be determined by other uncalendared circumstances.

Question: What ties these 4 things together?

My Tomato Plants Died, My Mom Didn't, A Redheaded Fraulein Should Have--What's Happened to Me?

2011-07-16T13:51:00.000-07:00

It’s been an interesting week.

First, my beloved tomato plants that Eli started for me got leaf spot or something. I looked it up on the internet where I read to buy a certain fungicide which I did. Sprayed it on the plant. Nothing happened. I asked my gardener what to do. He said spray the leaves and stem with a combination of dishwashing soap and water and then when the sun comes out it will kill the fungus--plus it's organic. I did. The next day the whole plant died. Guess I sprayed it too much, as in full-on baptism. I mean, if a little soap’s good, a whole lot is better? I used to be able to grow things. Now I plan for their demise. What's happened to me?

Then, last Saturday mom started to collapse and moan and groan. Lei, our caregiver, was with her. She called me but the cell phone didn’t ring through. Then she called the hospice number. Then she called 911. Then she called me again. This time we connected and I came right home. However, because mom’s now under the care of hospice we weren’t supposed to call 911. Actually, it’s more complicated than that but not worth going into. I met 5 young strong paramedics and firemen at the front door and told them that we weren’t supposed to call them but they agreed to come in anyway and assess the situation. Mom was lying on the sofa in some sort of unconscious state. We couldn’t rouse her. Several more minutes passed and she came around enough to moan and groan. The 5 burley guys carried her to her bed where she proceeded to be unrousable again. It was very confusing as we were still waiting for hospice to call back. The 5 calendar boys took her vitals which, although slightly elevated, were still okay. The hospice nurse called and said she’d be at the house in an hour. I sent the 5 rescue men away and Lei and I stood on both sides of mom’s bed watching her. More time passed. And suddenly we heard a very tiny tiny voice. It was hard to make out at first what mom was saying. But then it became distinguishable. Hello! Hello! Helloooo!

Well, hello Mom! Welcome back! Mom lifted her head and asked, “What happened to me?” I told her I didn’t know and had the same question. Then she turned towards Lei and said, “Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. I see black! I see black!” I looked at Lei and looked at mom and said, “Mom, that’s Lei’s blouse. Her blouse is black”. “Oh,” she replied with wonder. Then promptly sat up, said she was hungry, and asked what did I have for her to eat. She was cheerful, laughing and practically ready to go to a party.

Well, no one had any answers as to what had happened although there were a few guesses. But starting with the next day her agitation increased and for the next few nights she decided not to sleep. When she’s in this state it’s always pretty tough on me because she’s sedated and doped up and wants to keep getting out of bed so no one sleeps, especially me. By the 5^th day of hardly no sleep, the red-headed fraulein entered the picture.

Chelsea and I went to Costco on Friday. I was dragging pretty slowly at this point on 1 or 2 hours of sleep per night. We were in the store for almost an hour and 2 heavily laden carts full later we walked back to my car that I’d parked in handicap w/ my dad’s placard. Let me say right here and now that Eli objects to my using the card without my dad or mom in the car. But I truly felt handicapped and was having a hard time shuffling from point A to point B. At any rate, by the time we got back to the car a withered up ol’ wrinkly wench with flaming dyed red hair was standing behind all the cars parked in handicap locations and was writing down license plate numbers. As we drove away Chelsea said, “Mom, she’s writing down your number, too”. That was the final straw-- don’t mess with an overtired sleep-deprived woman of 61 who deals with the possibility of death on a daily basis.

I roared around the corner and drove back next to the mean nasty harpie. “Why are you writing down my license plate?” I asked her, perhaps with a bit of a sharp tongue. “I am viting down der numbers to see who eez reely hondicapped ,” she spit out nastily in a bad Ahnold imitation (yes, I know he was Austrian, but whatever, both Austrians and Germans dye their hair red) as she continued to keep “viting”. “How dare you! It’s an invasion of my privacy. It’s an invasion of Hippa laws! My daughter is an attorney. I’ll sue your butt off!” (Mind you, I’d also helped Chelsea pack her condo and garage for 4 days in sweltering heat, the weekend before had been especially stressful in other ways and I admit I sort of lost it on her…but it felt good to yell at someone! I’m not proud of this, just admitting my mortality.) You pit two obstinate Germans against each other there's bound to be some fireworks. She jumped in her car and tried to get away. I screeched around the corner again to face her oncoming car and this time I made a big deal of letting her see that I was writing down HER license plate. Oh, did I mention that she, too had parked in a handicapped spot but did not have a special plate or placard? And yes, Chelsea, who lives in a world of drama, was asking ME to calm down. What happened to me?

What have I learned from all this?

1. John Denver had it right about homegrown tomatoes, but I'm sticking with the ones from Albertson's.

2. I'm grateful for the time I still have with Mom even when it's exhausting.

3. Crazy pent-up rage unleashed on interfering Nazis feels great!

The 4th of July

2011-07-05T10:47:00.000-07:00

We had a great 4th of July. Lazy, slow, balmy, and moderately peaceful. Hamburgers on the grill, potato salad, baked beans, (I later found the uncooked corn on the cob on the counter--oh well, it was that lazy). Lei, our caregiver, wanted to spend the day with us and work, too, so that was super. Most of the flags I've had in the past seem to have disappeared so Sawyer and I took a little trip to the hardware store and bought a big one for the front yard and a small plastic pool to cool off in. Chelsea and I spent a few hours in the afternoon painting pictures of sailboats. I was happy to have a paintbrush in my hand again. She'd still be erasing her original sketch this morning if I hadn't kept reinforcing that this was meant to be fun and the only thing that mattered was loading paint on to the canvas and see what develops.

But the best part of all was to discover that we had a perfect ringside seat to the fireworks right out our family room and my upstairs bedroom window. Bang! Pop! Ooooh! Ahhhh! Who knew?! If I'd been the broker on this house that would have been the first thing in my marketing. The trees in the backyard parted so perfectly for the show down at the regional park. What a thrilling ending to a day worth celebrating, especially since we didn't think we'd get a chance to see them this year.

Feeling more independent than ever (sort of).

All Roads Lead to Paris

2011-07-02T08:54:00.000-07:00

I started this morning at 6:30 to read the scriptures, but first I checked and responded to email, checked Facebook, and ended up in Paris:

Paris Vol. 5 from The Seventh Movement on Vimeo.

Just skip to somewhere around 13 to 18+ minutes for the part that helps me keep breathing.

Two hours later, the Book of Mormon is still not open. Sawyer is awake. And Dad has needed assistance from lying halfway off his mattress as he attempted to arise in some unusual position and didn't have the strength to get back on.

My journey with my parents living with me is now almost 10 months. They have had 2 stays in the hospital, 3 ER visits, countless doctor appointments, and multiple occasional caregivers passing through including Lei, my current all-time favorite. And now hospice for Mom. I've gained 10 lbs, an extra chin and many wrinkles. The antidote? My appointment with "The Perfect Workout" today at noon and my annual fee to www.picnik.com so I can "soften" my photos or press the "look thinner" button.

Lei and Mom

Mindless Thoughts

2011-05-23T10:35:00.000-07:00

Here is my thought for the day. It is almost impossible to blog with only 3-4 hours of sleep at night. Mom's behavior is affecting her sleep patterns. She seems to be in a very weird stage of mania that acts up worse at night. I'm exhausted. Mackenna is here for a few days and is currently talking Mom down from the edge. I am sitting in the family room for a few minutes with Sawyer while he watches Chuggington and trying to figure out my new Mac laptop, thus this very elementary exercise of blogging with it. Perhaps, after a little more sleep (less than 1 hr last night and trying to sleep on the hard floor in my folks' room w/ a blanket and a pillow to prevent Mom from wandering all night) I'll be able to report in on all the wonderful help Sandy and Fred and Eli have supplied over the last few weeks. And now with Mackenna and John arrives Sunday, I just want to say "Hooray for the cavalry!"

The Book

2011-04-10T21:33:00.000-07:00

I was indeed flattered when I took my mom to her geriatric psychologist and she offered me a job, told me to write a book, and said she wanted to call me to pick my brain. For a brief moment, I imagined myself winning the Nobel Prize for Dementia and basked in the light of someone thinking I had something valuable to share, even if it is a shrink fascinated by my firsthand knowledge of the world of Alzheimer's.

I told her that I already had a job watching the folks and that if and when I get back into the job market it sure won't be as a caregiver. She assured me that that's not what she had in mind, but reminded me that the vastly unexplored world of dementia needed brave explorers and creative geniuses to make a difference, especially when it comes to the travesty of elder abuse.

So I think I will begin by joining the Walk to Find a Cure for Alzheimer's on May 7th at Doheny Beach and I will also get serious about starting my book, the one titled, "Hi, Mom, I'm Your Daughter, Joyce".
I may have to change my name to protect the less than innocent and very innocent. Perhaps if it's published under a nom de plume I will be more forthright. Then when I'm asked to go on Oprah and tell all, oh wait, she's retiring...oh well, whomever takes her place, I will be interviewed as a shadowy figure behind a curtain with a deep growly disguised electronic voice.

Here is my Prologue:

Any random afternoon---

"Mom, let me help you go to the bathroom."
"Who?"
"You."
"Me?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because you just said you wanted to go to the bathroom."
"Who did?"
"You did."
"Why?"
"I guess because you needed to go to the bathroom."
"The bathroom?"
"Yes."
"What's the bathroom?"
"I don't know, Mom, just let me help you."
"Help me? I don't even know who you are!"
"I'm your daughter, Joyce, and I'd like to take you to the bathroom."
"Why?"
"Nevermind."
"What?"
"Nevermind.".........
....one minute passes....
"Where's the bathroom?"
and we start the dance again.

Here's part of chapter whatever:

It had been a warm and sunny peaceful Sabbath afternoon. I'd come home from church and our caregiver, Jackie, said that Mom was napping; she was very exhausted, as though the mental energy of trying to figure out her world had taxed all her strength and she'd gone to bed.

Good, I thought. I like coming home from 3 hours of church and being able to read a little and take a nap myself. Especially on Fast Sunday. I said hi to Dad who asked me where I'd been. At church, I told him.
"Church?" he inquired. "On Friday?"
Uh oh. That wasn't a good sign. Dad's supposed to be the 96-year old who still has it altogether.
"Dad, it's Sunday?"
"Really? I guess I missed a few days" he replies somewhat perplexed.
"Well, you're reading the Sunday paper," I responded.
"Hmmmm" he said softly.
Jackie looked at me and said, "That explains it. He's been calling me Anna all day."
Anna is our Friday caregiver who helps for four hours while I run away and get lost in the world of the living.
Jackie left. Dad closed his eyes to sleep in his tan recliner. I went upstairs to read on my bed and feel the warmth of the sun through my bedroom windows.

An hour later Mom wakes up. Coming through the baby monitor I hear, "Yoo hoo! Anyone here?" I rush downstairs.
Mom is indeed a cheerful happy soul suddenly, refreshed from a few hours of sleeping and suggests we all go out to eat hamburgers. I really don't like to eat out on Sundays but this is the third day in a row that she's wanted to go out to eat and she's so smiley and happy I don't want to break her good mood. Dad, always ready for a ride and a change of scenery is all for it. I help Dad with his walker to the car and strap him in the back seat. I walk Mom around to the other side of the car behind the driver's side and strap her in. It's 5 o'clock and sunny with a beautiful clear blue California sky to look at.
"Where do you want to go, Dad?" I ask.
"How 'bout Carl's Jr."
"Okay. Let's go to the one by Doheny Beach and then eat at the harbor.
Off we go, everyone's happy. I'm relaxed and calculating what I can eat since I'm always trying to diet and rarely succeeding.
As we head down Golden Lantern Drive and see the glorious Pacific Ocean in the distance I mention to Dad and Mom to look at the view. Isn't it beautiful I exclaim.
Suddenly, Mom starts getting worried. "I'm getting sick!" she moans. "I'm getting sick!"
Dad ignores her. I look over my shoulder back at her and try to reassure her.
"Mom, we're going out for hamburgers and we're going to eat them by the beach."
I think all she sees is some scary random person in dark sunglasses staring back at her.
"Tony, Tony, we need to get out. They're going to try and drown us in the ocean! Let me out! Let me out!"
Think Meg Ryan at the beginning of the movie, "French Kiss."
I hear a click and the words on my dashboard read LEFT DOOR OPEN.
I quickly pull over, put the car in park, jump out, close Mom's door tightly, jump back in the car and lock all the doors with one switch.
I've got to remember to lock all the doors whenever I'm driving I think to myself and probably say outloud.

But it just gets worse from here.

Dun dun dun.....

Comments or suggestions anyone?

Around the Whirlwind in Eighty Days

2011-03-16T20:50:00.000-07:00

It's been 80+/- days since I last made an entry to The Mercy Finder. I think I've been too overwhelmed with trying to find mercy, extend mercy, and receive mercy to write. But today, inspired by an article I read in The New Yorker, "Middlemarch and Me," I have committed to at least try to catch up on the last 80 days in a very speedy way--with photos. (However, something's wrong w/ my computer and everything about Blogger is currently goofed up)

Rebecca Mead, the author of the article, stated that the well-known maxim, "It is never too late to be what you might have been," although long-attributed to George Elliot (aka Mary Ann Evans), apparently has no historical bearing with reference to her. Nowhere in her letters or writings can it be documented that she said this. In fact, it seems to be more in keeping with her writings and lifestyle that, if anything, she believed that just being who you are is enough. Unheralded, unspectacular, unnoticed. If you should think of doing something grand, and don't do it, so be it. In her journal entry she wrote, "The difficulty is, to decide how far resolution should set in the direction of activity rather than in the acceptance of a more negative state." Perhaps in my comings and goings, I would much prefer to have this second quote painted up, lacquered, and hanging on my kitchen wall rather than the first.

However, so as not to acknowledge my merciless/merciful state without deep gratitude, I submit the following photos of the last 74+ days.

I flew to TX for the funeral of Krista Ralston Oakes

Lynn Ralston Molohosky and me

Christmas Eve

Mom with Eli, very excited for the next day

Dad deciding which of Sawyer's Hot Wheels he wants

Sawyer thinking of Santa coming

Christmas Day

Santa made one little boy very happy

Jim, Sawyer, and Chelsea

Carrie, Eli's girlfriend

Mickey Blue Eyes

What do you get your Dad who needs nothing? Books!

The Day After Christmas

Celebrating with the Munns

Second cousins, Samantha and Sawyer

Joyful and triumphant

Guess it should be over 'cuz the fat lady's singing!

My "eh hem" birthday

Nancy Metcalf joined me for a grand day

Gallachers came for a few days in January

An early birthday celebration with Dad

Dad's 96th Birthday

The party was so wild that no matter what I do this will only post sideways

Disneyland with the Archibalds

So happy to be out of Minnesota

Nannie Joy with her munchkins

It's a world of laughter

My Annie Jane

My Jake Jordan

My Sawyer Daniel

My Juliette Joyce

Chelsea Married Jim Flanagan

The Aftermath

Jordan's 33rd Birthday

Saying Goodby to Part of My Heart

Jim Got Baptized

A very wonderful day

Okay, that's it. I'm done.

Fruitcake

2010-12-18T21:10:00.000-08:00

I am working on submitting my will to God's. I am working on being obedient. I am trying to do what's right and be good and be unselfish and give service. Whenever the Christmas season rolls around I feel like I need to make penance of some sort for an ancient act of revenge and retribution. And what is the dirty little deed I carried out so long ago?

When I was in Kindergarten my best friend told me the "truth" about Santa Claus. I couldn't believe her. I couldn't forgive her. That memory is still so very clear and burned into my mind. And I knew at that point I would get her back. I didn't know how or when but I knew, someday, some way, I would return the favor.

And I did. The next year, after a little conversation which my mother initiated and to which I was sworn great secrecy, I promptly told my friend, standing there at the corner of Fairmount and Ashbury Avenues in El Cerrito, CA, about how babies were made.

And I have felt moderately guilty ever since that I was such a cruel force in collapsing her world, as she knew it, just as she had destroyed mine the year before. I suspect almost 55 years later she never gives this a single thought. But I am still tortured by it.

So I try to be good and give to the poor and feed the hungry and clothe the naked and shelter the homeless.

And then I take my grandson to the mall to see Santa Claus. Just to reassure myself that, really, I was right all along, and my friend was, well, just plain nuts!

I'm feeling better, once again.

Celebrations

2010-11-30T22:29:00.001-08:00

Two celebrations with two times the fun for a boy turning two and a Thanksgiving feast that followed the next day. Welcome to my photo gallery of two days of merriment.

Happy Birthday, Sawyer!!! We're so glad that you're TWO!

Lucky boy to wrap up nice and warm in a towel from Aunt Britty

After starting the party at Sawyer's house, we moved on to Nannie Joy's for dinner and more presents that night.

Jimmy Storey, Holly & Masa arrived for the dinner party and the Thanksgiving weekend, along with the birthday boy, Nannie Joy, Chelsea & Jim F.

Then Nannie Joy brought out the big guns!

Sawyer played with cousin, Jake's, Geo Trax last summer. We knew it'd be a hit!

Ooooooh!

A quick few hours sleep, then on to Thanksgiving Day. Hooray!

The Munns have arrived and we're just about ready

This didn't start out to be the little kids table but turned out that way

Jay and his granddaughter, Samantha

The food was delicious if I do say so myself

The best place for Ian to be after so much food--running around the yard.

Morgan, Melanie, and Maddie Munns

My sister, Cheryl, and me

Holly chillaxin'

Jim, the Pied Piper

Second cousins Samantha and Sawyer, and no, I did not give her the Barq's

20 for dinner and everyone left the table fat and sassy

Jeremy, uncle and nephew extraordinaire, including photographer of some of these pictures

Nothing brings such joy to us as Jay's piano playing

"Upside Down Boy" just before the Hokey Pokey

Dad and Mom enjoying Jay's after dinner music

Aren't teenagers just truly amazing?

The only thing that would have made the day more perfect is if we had just a few more people, like Eli, Carrie, Brittany, Jordan, Annie, Jake & Juliette! Maybe next year?

I AM OLD

2010-11-14T20:45:00.000-08:00

I am old. I am very very old. 60 years have passed since I was born, and soon it will be 61 years. I don’t feel old. I don’t look old while glancing in a mirror when I don’t have my contacts in and it’s not a magnifying mirror and I stand about 6 feet away from it. But so much has changed since I was born when I compare it with my grandson, Sawyer’s, life that I have finally figured out that I am old.

A few weeks ago Sawyer and I flew to Minnesota to visit Brittany, Jordan, and my other 3 grandchildren. Sawyer is a seasoned flyer having crisscrossed the United States many times over the past 2 years of his short little life. However, due to the great example of Brittany when she flies with her kids, I decided to buy a portable DVD player so that Sawyer could watch Tigger and Pooh and Their Friends, Too, and maybe a Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and perhaps one Little Einsteins. Four hours on a plane w/ a toddler who can still fly free so he sits on my lap can be a bit of a challenge, and Sawyer has demonstrated time and time again that he doesn’t sleep on a plane until the final 30 minutes of the flight, no matter whether it’s a 1 hour flight or 6 hours. I bought him his own little headset, which he thought was sort of interesting at first, but decided he liked it better off than on which means he watched the movies without sound, and was just as entertained.

And it got me thinking about the first movies I ever saw. They didn’t have sound either. No, I’m not describing “pre-talkies”. But sometime between my age of 4 and 7 my family lived in a house that was up the hill and about a mile from the local drive-in theatre. 600 Clayton Avenue, El Cerrito, CA, was a 2-bedroom, 1-bath white-siding house on the corner of Clayton and Lincoln Avenues. It was and still is forever referred to as “the corner house”. Occasionally, on warm summer evenings somewhere around dusk, my older sister, Cheryl, and I and a few of the neighbor kids would climb up on the roof of our house and perch ourselves ever so carefully on the slanted side of the roof that faced the El Cerrito Drive-In.

We could see the screen and we could see movement on the screen and sometimes we thought we could actually tell what was going on. Of course we couldn’t hear anything and I suppose we never had any idea what the movie was about. But we thought we were the neatest kids on the block to be able to see the movies from our own home. (To this day I have no idea where our parents were or how we were allowed to climb up there at such a young age. Then again, maybe we weren’t allowed. Maybe that’s why we scrambled down lickety-split when we heard them call us.) I’m pretty sure the first movie I ever saw in an actual movie theatre was The Wizard of Oz when I was 5. It scared me then and frankly, still scares me now.

My point being: I watched my first movies at 4 years of age from the roof of my house. Two-year old Sawyer watches his movies, when he’s not in front of our television, on a portable DVD player as he flies across the United States.

I am old. I am very very old.

By the Sea

2010-10-07T22:51:00.000-07:00

When the folks moved down here on Labor Day I was excited for them to get to the beach. I figured anyone who had spent the last year in an assisted living facility needed to sit near the ocean to recover and restore one's soul. However, w/ Mom's broken shoulder and Dad's bout in the hospital we didn't quite get there right away.

I live about 5 miles from the Pacific Ocean so we did initially take a few drives up the PCH and I'd say, "Hey, look, Mom and Dad, over there--over there-over there--on your left--no your left--no, your other left--there's the ocean!" That's generally what our conversations are like. Then me again, "Isn't it beautiful?" "Yes", they would say, as I'd go zooming by. (Sort of reminding me of the first time I put real estate clients in my car, back in 1984, to show them houses; I was so nervous and drove so fast I was literally slamming on the brakes as I sped past a listing we were supposed to see. I soon learned to write DRIVE SLOW on a piece of paper I kept tucked under my leg so that my backseat customers weren't turning green and looking for a barf bag in the back seat. But that was in a distant galaxy a long long time ago.)

Today, after 3 days of rain, our world-famous climate was back to "gorgeous, wish you were here" and with Mom waking up grouchy I said, "Hey, everyone (Mom still thinks she lives with lots of people) let's go to the beach for a little while". So we jumped in the car (this means dad slowly moved his walker toward the garage and I slowly helped mom into the front seat, buckled up seat belts, put the walker in the trunk)--okay, 15 minutes later, off we went to Aliso Creek Beach. It's a perfect place for the folks as the benches are just a few minutes from the parking lot.

Mom and Dad enjoyed the warmth of the sun and the white-tipped waves crashing onto the shore. Dad was happy to remain sitting, but I encouraged Mom to roll up her pants and go play in the water and she was happy to oblige. Mom is pretty frail and the waves are pretty powerful at this beach but we managed to not fall over. I was supporting her like I was cemented into the ground with one of my arms wrapped around her waist and my other one holding onto her good arm. There was only one time when I got a little nervous. But, hey, my brother, Bill, dropped Mom while carrying her down a steep descent at Lake Tahoe a few years back, so I figured, what's the worse that could happen? We'd both get tumbled around and drenched but I'd save her and make sure she didn't get any water in her ears.or drift out to sea. I tried not to visualize that scene.

She laughed with glee and terror and let out lots of "Oh, my's!" We followed a few seagulls. She picked up some small sticks. Dad took a catnap. When we walked back to the bench with our pants quite wet above where we'd rolled them up, I wiped the sand out of mom's toes. As I took the picture below I told Mom to wave. She got that part figured out but couldn't hear me say "Smile!" so when I later showed her the picture she asked me if she looked grouchy. I said, "No, I think you just look like you're trying to figure out how you got so wet".

My parents started their married life near the ocean. I think it's appropriate that they finish their last few years together near it.

It will forever bug me that we have these fun times together and Mom doesn't remember them by the time we get to the car. I'm committed to remembering for all of us.

In the Land of Yudacudahey

2010-10-05T15:03:00.000-07:00

Hip hip hooray! Both parents are taking a nap at the same time, Sawyer is with his mommy, and I have some quiet time to myself (if you don’t count the snoring coming from my folks’ room via the baby monitor next to me in the upstairs gameroom). I don’t know whether to sleep myself, watch TV, unpack or update my blog. Yes, I do, I’m updating.

When we made the decision to have Mom and Dad move down here to live with me it took awhile to put everything in place. I had to find a home that could accommodate all 3 of us, that was elder-friendly ie, wide enough for walkers and potential wheelchairs, had multiple living spaces and enough bedrooms and bathrooms for all of us and any who could come and visit. I needed a decent fenced backyard and garden and flooring that was conducive to wheels and spills. I found all that and much more (ie, a spa w/ great privacy – yay for clothing optional) in our latest home. It took several trips from my self-storage unit in L.A. w/ the great assistance of my brother, John, and his wife Gayle, a truckload from my former condo, and a truckload from my folks assisted living place in Northern California. Four days before the move, Mom fell and broke her left shoulder, which was especially tough since she’s left-handed and her right shoulder was already a problem. And then two days after they arrived, Dad started throwing up for 36 hours and eventually spent a week at Mission Hospital Laguna Beach. He wasn’t too keen on being in the ICU but I was amazed at one of the best views from his room of the Pacific Ocean I’ve ever seen. The sunsets were fantastic. Too bad he couldn’t enjoy it more. However, he was very stoical and a trooper and recovered very well.

But now, a month has passed and we’re all getting back to normal, whatever that is. Mom’s dementia is interesting, hilarious, sad, creative, and ranges from craziness to sanity. I love it when she checks back in and I feel like I’ve just about got my mom back. But I also enjoy the journey she’s on. I love listening to her sincere and humble prayers. I love her cheerful and upbeat attitude. I laugh along with her when she realizes that the words she just said don’t make any sense. For instance, the other night I offered her some chapstick for her chapped lips. She had a hard time hearing me and thought I offered her “cat butt”. I said, “Sure, Mom, here’s some cat butt for your lips!” We both had a good time laughing over that one. One night at dinner she asked my dad where we lived. “Are we in Europe?” “No,” we both replied. “Are we in America?” “Yes,” I said, “We’re in California. Where did you think we lived?” I asked her. She looked at me and answered, “I don’t know. I thought maybe we lived in Yudacudahey.” “Yudacudahey? Where’s that?” I asked her. We both started laughing when she responded, “Oh, I don’t know. I just thought it sounded like a nice place.”

And it is. So welcome to our world. I hope we all get to stay here for awhile.

The folks truck loaded up by brother, John. Good thing they're bringing Mom's Diet Coke

The backyard of our home

Dad's million dollar view at Mission Laguna Beach

Just taking it all in stride during one of the hospital visits

Mom with her shoulder in a sling and brother, John

My sisters, Marlene and Sandy, helped with the drive down and niece, Mackenna, had a quick visit, too.

It's a good thing when checking on your folks in the morning and they're holding hands

Capturing the innocence of simplicity and joy

In Memoriam D.L.S.

2010-08-28T21:11:00.000-07:00

“...because man goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets: Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern. Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.” (Ecclesiastes 12:5-7)

Last weekend I attended the memorial service for Lynn Storey, the father of my daughter, Brittany, and the adoptive father of my children, Eli and Chelsea. He was diagnosed with prostate cancer in 1993; we were divorced about 6 months later after 14 ½ years of marriage. He soon was married to another woman which later ended in divorce. His battle with cancer, although intermittently relieved by remission was long and painful. There were many times when we all wondered how long he would have to suffer and for what purpose.

We now know the answer to the first question—17 years. I don’t know if we’ll ever know all the answers to the second, however this is what I observed. An attractive athletic man of many interests and a zest for life but also plagued with bouts of discouragement and self-doubt led a life filled with portions of love, marriages, children, divorces, jobs, entrepreneurships, successes, failures, formal education, self-education, exploration, reclusiveness, service, selfishness, compassion, openness, and introspection—pretty much like all of us in one way or another. He had periods of estrangement from family members and periods of reunions. I’ve seen him kick dogs and be cruel to animals and I’ve seen him love dogs and cats and provide good homes for them. I’ve seen him obsess over his career and desire to climb to the top, and I’ve seen him learn to accept job losses and pave a pathway of endurance. I’ve seen his anger and mean-spiritedness and I’ve seen his inner man embrace the blessings and opportunities that God has graced him with and his ultimate refining as he learned to really love the Lord, his children, his family, and his life. He learned to express gratitude for the things that matter most. Each of his 5 children and I were able to meet with him individually prior to his death and express love and concern and caring. His two oldest children, Holly and Jim, either lived with him or nearby and were able to care for him in his last few years of poor health. We all had closure in a peaceful and healthy way. When the doctors told him there was nothing more they could do for him and he was assigned to a nursing home we knew he wouldn’t linger here much longer. And in fact, he found his appointed time to return to Heavenly Father only 2 weeks later. We’re all grateful, Lynn included, that he didn’t need to stay there very long.

I’m in the process of moving into another house. I’m unpacking way too many boxes that have been in storage for 2 years. I’m unloading photograph albums and looking inside and seeing pictures of those years I spent with Lynn Storey between 1978 and 1993. Although I’d seen him occasionally since those years, these were the ones that were memorialized with photographs and memorabilia. I see the picture of Lake Camanche and his orange and yellow Hobie Cat sailboat. I see the picture of Eli and Jimmy, young boys in sleeping bags in the back of an old station wagon with a bumper sticker on the fender that says “Happiness is Family Home Evening”. I see our wedding announcement, 4 young hopeful children in a library announcing the “merger” of their parents. I see Brittany sitting in a highchair. I see Chelsea graduating from pre-school. I see Holly dressed for Prom. I see pictures of our homes in San Pablo, Benicia, New Jersey, Georgia, Danville, Chicago, and Texas. Some of these pictures are houses under construction. Some are of homes we plan to remodel or redecorate. I see pictures of our cars: two Pontiacs, a Honda, a BMW, and a Mazda SUV. I see pictures of vacations and holidays, birthdays and celebrations. And then the photographs in the albums stop and I find them uncatalogued in small boxes. Just like Lynn Storey’s mortal life, the collection of albums has ended.

Brittany, Chelsea, Eli, Lynn, Joyce--Wheaton, IL--Christmas, 1990

D. Lynn Storey--Wheaton, IL--Summer 1990

But our memory of Lynn Storey remains and his essence is strong. While I’m unpacking in Laguna Niguel, 4 of his children are sorting through his belongings in San Pablo. Although an intruding thief has taken some of Lynn’s things the week before, the children are experiencing their history again just like I am, but in a different light and in a different frame of reference, through their father’s eyes. They read his journals. They touch his ties hanging on the door. They discuss what to do with his photography equipment. Brittany calls me and tells me that she’s in the house alone and she doesn’t know what to do with all the medicine. “There’s medication everywhere, Mom, all over the house, in every room”. Lingering evidence of a sick and dying man. It’s painful to experience for his youngest child, the union of our marriage. “But I feel privileged that I get to go through his things and help box them up.”

We all feel privileged that we had time in this life with him, a mortal man striving for immortality.

“…Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man. For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good or whether it be evil.” (Ecclesiastes 12:13-14)

The Green Reaper

2010-08-18T09:51:00.000-07:00

Remember a few months back when I wrote about Farmer Jordan and his labor of love with the garden preparation so the family could rally around and plant, sow, reap and harvest together?

Well, way to go Jordan and Brittany and Annie and Jake! You are now all officially little red hens and I am very proud of you.

Take a look at this!!!

Mini Ha Has and Great Big Smiles

2010-07-29T19:24:00.000-07:00

Several years ago my book group in TX decided to read Longfellow's "The Song of Hiawatha" thanks to Jennifer Kay's suggestion. Although this part of the poem starts in chapter 3 it seems to be the one we all know:

By the shores of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
Stood the wigwam of Nokomis,
Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis.
Dark behind it rose the forest,
Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees,
Rose the firs with cones upon them;
Bright before it beat the water,
Beat the clear and sunny water,
Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.

Little Hiawatha grows up and falls in love with the lovely Minnehaha. During my vacation to Minnesota a few weeks ago Brittany and I took her kids over to Minnehaha Falls. It was beautiful to see. I didn't see this statue of Hiawatha and Minnehaha but it's apparently nearby. I did, however see all of us having a wonderful time playing in the the little pond farther down from the falls.

Nannie Joy with Juliette, Annie, and Jake

Brittany and Baby Jewels

This looks easy but it was actually quite slippery

They made it to safety

Previously on this day of adventure we stopped by Lake Calhoun in Minneapolis. They just happened to have a sand "castle" contest the day before. We took pictures of our favorite sculptures and did a little more wading and tree climbing.

Can you tell what this is?

Annie's favorite

This one's just kind of interesting

Jake's favorite

Juliette was happy with all of them

my favorite

Isn't this what summer's all about?

In getting from point A to point B we also made 2 great discoveries: 1) a Batman bench next to a liquor store which required an immediate slam on the brakes by the driver (me) for Jakey since I knew he'd want his picture taken on it and 2) the world's best corn stand. We didn't know it had the world's best corn but Brittany wanted some for dinner and we all agreed it really was the best corn on the cob we'd ever had.

Now for a little trivia. At Indian Art Camp where Annie and Jake made Indian purses we learned that the Dakota Tribe is known as the Dakotas east of the Mississippi River and the Lakotas west of the Mississippi River (I like to type it all the way out so I can say M I crooked letter crooked letter I crooked letter crooked letter I humpback humpback I). However, they personally don't like to be called either. They prefer Sioux. We also learned when we were at the Falls that when President Johnson and Senator Humphrey visited there in 1964, Minneapolis was in a drought, so the city had to open up many fire hydrants upstream and out of sight to feed water to the creek. I think that's hilarious.

As we drove around I found myself singing (to myself), "From the land of sky blue waters, comes the beer refreshing, Hamms the beer refreshing, Hamms". Talk about a successful advertising campaign. Fifty years later and I'm still thinking of Hamms Beer when I think of the land of 10,000 lakes. I learned that "minisota" is a Dakota, or should I more appropriately say Sioux word that means "water that reflects the sky". I also learned that Minnesota has more shoreline than California, Florida, and Hawaii combined.

I like Minnesota. I like where Jordan and Brittany live, just 20 minutes outside St. Paul. (Apparently, everything is just 20 minutes somewhere.) There is very little traffic and it's easy to get around. I was there in November and January and it wasn't that cold. But then, of course, it was considered a mild winter. They say the summers make the whole state worth it. I think I agree.

Daddy Does his Duty

2010-07-27T22:27:00.000-07:00

Life has been a bit hectic. I had a little vacation in Minnesota that I'll blog about later but just for tonight I thought I'd post this video. Brittany had to make a quick weekend trip out to San Francisco to see her dad. Eli stopped in the day before she got there. Chelsea, Sawyer and I flew up yesterday for the day. Lynn's not doing well and is now in a nursing home.

Jordan emailed this brief clip to my iphone on Sunday. While holding down the fort with 3 little kids and Mommy M.I.A., he was able to experience the bright side of self-sufficient children getting themselves dressed for church.

Ye Have Done It Unto Me

2010-07-11T19:41:00.000-07:00

On a delightful Saturday afternoon at Doheny State Beach when my nephew and niece were learning to surf I happened to observe the following scene just a few feet away from me. As these girls started walking across the sand and positioned themselves nearby, I was so disturbed by what I saw that I started taking pictures as a reminder of how cruel we can be, how uncaring and thoughtless and unkind. And also as a reminder to be more aware of my circumstances, no matter what age, and watch out for the one on the "outside".

When I was in 6th grade my teacher had us look at pictures from Life Magazine and then write a story about them. Upon seeing these girls I wanted to write their story. I wanted to know what the girl on the left was feeling. I wondered what pain and self-consciousness and insecurity she was experiencing. Whose mother’s friend's daughter or cousin or sister was she? Who encouraged her to wear what she wore and tag along? And who would be there for her when she went home, trying to be brave and say she had a wonderful time at the beach? Who would believe her brave smile and ignore her tear-stained eyes and humiliation? Or who would be there to comfort her?

I wondered all sorts of questions. And in the end I decided not to write the story. The pictures tell it all.

Capturing the Spirit of Independence

2010-06-22T13:00:00.000-07:00

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!"

2010-06-16T15:15:00.000-07:00

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

2010-06-07T16:19:00.000-07:00

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

2010-06-05T11:15:00.000-07:00

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?

2010-06-04T13:14:00.000-07:00

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.

It's May, It's May, The Lovely Month of May

2010-05-01T10:54:00.000-07:00

When I was young my mom taught us to make May Day baskets out of colored construction paper and secured with Scotch Tape (for Jordan, my son-in-law, who works for 3M, I respecfully capitalize). Then we proceeded to either pick flowers from our yard or the neighbors’ yards if they weren’t looking, fill up the baskets, and drop them off on the front porches of other neighbors or friends. The trick was to ring the doorbell and run without being caught. I think if you were caught by the recipients they were supposed to kiss you. I don’t know. We never got caught.

We loved this tradition. I think it only lasted through our grade school years but isn’t it wonderful? Opening up your front door and finding flowers? That has happened to me thrice in the past two months but it wasn’t to celebrate May Day. The first time was when a very interesting character in my church named Rocky Rodriguez brought over some potted yellow tulips because he said the words in my Sacrament meeting talk that day touched his heart. Chelsea and I loved those yellow tulips as they cheerfully sat on our kitchen counter and greeted us each morning. I told Rocky I’d received flowers over the years but never for speaking in church. What a treat! A week or so later he dropped off a little Easter offering of miniature yellow strawflowers.

Rocky is a recovered alcoholic from Mexico who has been living in Southern California for many years. His hands are old and callused and his face is lined with wrinkles and when he's not working in someone's yard he's rescuing the souls of addicts and bringing them to his home to live for awhile. He has the heart of a poet and he is a very good writer. He has asked Chelsea and me to critique his current written pages about overcoming addictions which he hopes to publish. His writing style is reminiscent of Gabriel García Márquez and his accent is quite strong, sort of like he’s doing an impersonation of my brother-in-law, Kelly, impersonating someone speaking English with a Spanish accent mixed up with a little Antonio Banderas' Puss in Boots from Shrek. He owns a lawn and garden service called Mother’s Love which gives him access to leftover flowers. A few days ago we opened the door and found this little plant

with the following poem (see if you can hear Rocky’s voice in your mind as you read this):

Just as the sunshine is composed of so many atomic particles,
So is my contribution to bring one small spark of joy to your home
With this little precious plant that I found crying alone on a nursery shelf
After all of her sisters were sold out to decorate a brothel.

She said, “I refuse to go! I am a decent plant!
And I will rather wither and die with dignity,
Than having a long life in a house of harlots!”

Then she wept and cried for a long time as she implored,
“Take me to a good home!
Take me to a good home!
All I need is love!
All I need is love!”

I looked down to her,
And spoke with a voice like a melody born in the wind.
“Because you spoke from your heart
Your request is granted.” (It is all yours…)

Happy May Day!

The Farmer near The Dells

2010-04-18T20:47:00.000-07:00

"Say what?"

I’ve got to hand it to Jordan, my son-in-law. Kudos to you dear Jordan.

When my daughter, Brittany, told me she wanted to plant a little vegetable garden in their backyard in Minnesota I was like, “uh oh” in my mind but outwardly I was encouraging.
Brittany hails from a long line of gardeners. Her dad, grandpa, and older sister are super gardeners or have been with much success. I’ve tried my hand at it in the past myself. And I remember with much fondness “The Great Garden” in El Cerrito, one summer back in the 60's when my mom with my brothers’ help dug up the entire backyard lawn to plant a huge garden. We loved that summer with fresh peas, corn, potatoes, carrots, radishes and beets, etc. We loved that Mom was really invested in it which meant she did most of the work, before, during and after. She was the little red hen. We were the cows and pigs and sheep waiting to reap the benefits. And now, Brittany had called and asked me where to begin.

“The internet,” I replied. “That’s where all the answers to life are found”. She described what she had in mind. Nothing very big, just a small little area that her little family could grow a few little things and thereby grow together.

“Start with http://www.lds.org/ and look up the information under provident living,” I began again. “Then move onto square foot gardening”.

But she kept asking for more information.

“Get a few 2x4’s or 1x8’s or 2x8’s or whatever they're called at Home Depot, set up a little area on the grass, lay down some plastic, add some dirt and plant the vegetables.”

Child of my Child...Heart of my Heart

2010-04-14T15:15:00.000-07:00

Child of my child
Heart of my heart
Your smile bridges the years between us
I am young again
Discovering the world through your eyes
You have the time to listen
And I have the time to spend
Delighted to gaze at familiar loved features
Made new in you again
Through you I’ll see the future
Through me you’ll know the past
In the present we’ll love one another
As long as these moments last
-Author unknown

I reread my last blog post to see just exactly what I had in mind before the Archibalds arrived on March 21st. Happily and sure enough, I think we did all those fun things and more. Now the dust has settled, the loads of laundry done, the floors washed and carpet vacuumed, the miscellaneous toys put away, and most of the extra food eaten. The Easter eggs were used in potato salad. The remaining candy is up on a shelf. The crayons and markers are back in their buckets. The tiny blue outfit of Juliette’s and one pink sock found under the co-sleeper have been mailed to Minnesota. And I’m left with memories and photographs.

The morning after they’d flown back to the Midwest, Sawyer and I looked around for Annie and Jake, hoping we’d still find them jumping on the Aerobed or hiding on the back porch or diving off the livingroom sofa. And oh how I miss the delicious cheeks and babysmell of Juliette. It was a little bit of a sad and lonely 48 hours with the sound of their laughter and giggles and screams and tears still filling the air. It’s a funny thing how sound waves work. They seem to linger beyond the guest.

I washed and filled with gas the borrowed van that transported all 8 of us around. But I’m not quite ready to take the special artwork off the walls (and no, not crayola marks)—felt pen drawings of rainbows and sunshine and action heros that were creatively attached with blue masking tape and displayed in my entryway art gallery. Forgive my nostalgia. I don’t like this part of the plan of happiness where some of those you love more than anything in the world live so far away.

First we explore all of the toys

Nannie Joy, what's happening here?

On Monday, 3/22, we fly to Granite Bay to visit my folks and my sisters, Marlene & Sandy

On the 22nd we drive to Auburn to see my parents' razed lot--then we stop at the duck pond

Marlene and Brittany and kiddies tossing bread

On the 24th Brittany gets to see my folks' new digs at Sunrise Assisted Living

Sandy, Sawyer and I snuggle with our folks. Aren't we fortunate to still have them?

Gallachers bidding adieu after 2 nights of Mexican Train

Annie & Jake LOVE Cami & Briggs

Uncle Kelly taught Jake how to shoot a bow and arrow

Holly came up to drive Britt & kids to the Bay Area for a visit. Sawyer and I flew back home to Orange County that afternoon

When they returned Friday night we celebrated with brownies

On the 27th we drove to Carlsbad for Kid's Day at The Flower Fields

Poor Sawyer got dust in his eyes in the parking lot--it took awhile for his tears to clear them up

Now he's feeling better which makes Chelsea feel better

I love this picture of my daughters with their babies

On Monday, the 29th, we spent the afternoon at Crystal Cove--it was a perfect beach day

This is so much better than Minnesota think Annie & Jake

Wheeeee!

Annie, a girl after my own heart

Baby Juliette, how you doin'?

Just one of those days that stays with you forever

Juliette's finally got California dreaming figured out

All perfect beach days require a stop at Ruby's for burgers, fries, and chocolate malts

After Jordan arrived, on Friday morning, 4/2, we went to Aliso Creek for a photo shoot of their family. My photographer friend, Clark Smith, did an amazing job

I know what Brittany's laughing about but I'm not telling

Sawyer's a good sport since his babysitter, Nannie Joy, packs him around everywhere.

After the picture-taking we went to the petting zoo in San Juan Capistrano

Annie's asking the REAL Easter bunny to please step forward

The little train reminded me of the one I grew up on at Tilden Park in Berkeley (sort of)

That night I had a surprise planned for Chelsea, Brittany, and Jordan with 4 tickets to the above event at the Santa Ana Embassy Suites. The food was lousy but the entertainment fun as we figured out the whodunnit. Unfortunately, I'd left the lights on on the borrowed car, so it took awhile to find someone to help us jump it. The good Samaritan that stepped forward was a former NYFD captain who'd participated in 9/11, and having lost many friends in the tragedy, left the force, moved to TX, grew his hair out like Willie Nelson, and happened to be staying at the hotel on business. He was a short wiry guy who said he would kick anyone's *** who complained that he "borrowed" the jumper cables out of the truck parked next to his.

On Saturday we went to the Dana Point Ocean Institute.

Annie was fearless when it came to dissecting the squid.

Yuck!

Saturday night we dye the eggs

So much excitement for the next day

Good news to children everywhere! The Easter Bunny knows where you are even on holiday!

Easter morning, Juliette, Annie, & Jake

My sister, Cheryl and her husband, Jay, and their 6 grandchildren joined us for Easter dinner.

A great Easter feast. Our other guest was my neighbor, Merrilyn

Morgan and Maddie Munns at the Easter Egg hunt we held outside the church (seemed as good a place as any).

Morgan, Jay, Samantha, Ian, Stephanie, Cheryl, Maddie, and Melanie Munns

And Monday morning, it's off to Disneyland after a hearty breakfast of Cheerios

Enthusiasm is Jake's middle name

Chelsea had to take a business call so she met us coming out of It's A Small World

Sawyer's first time to Disneyland--Chelsea's first time to see it through her son's eyes

We all love that tubby little cubby all stuffed with fluff

This is my lame attempt to have a little family reunion with matching shirts. The picture on the front of the shirt is with the kids and me and it says "Nannie Joy Loves Me"

Oh, Juliette, this was your first Disney experience, too. Wasn't it truly the happiest place on earth?

Brittany, Juliette, Annie, Jake and Jordan showing off their treasures after our final stop at Main Street

Brittany, me and Chelsea

Taken a few days earlier, but this is what the back of the car looked like almost every evening.

Any guesses as to what I'm doing now? Yup, that's right, I'm planning my trip to MN in July. But meanwhile, we All want to fly, so here's to the magic feather.

Spring Break

2010-03-19T11:15:00.000-07:00

In my excitement to have my 3 precious grandkiddies and their mom fly out here for 2 1/2 weeks I made up this song that we're singing around here (to the tune of Here We Round the Mulberry Bush)

Annie and Jake and Juliette

We haven't seen them yet

Very soon they will get

To come to California

Sawyer and his Nannie Joy

Love these little girls and boy

Very soon they'll all enjoy

Their trip to California

Jordan will join us for part of the time. Although we have great things planned the beauty of this place is that when all else fails you can go the beach. The Carlsbad Calendula festival is in full bloom and we hope to make it down there. We have a day trip to Disneyland for when Jordan's here. We have a few days planned up in NorCal to see the Gallachers, my folks. and hopefully Eli and for Brittany to see the Storeys. I'm hoping we'll make it over to the little petting zoo in San Juan. Plus we'll have Easter together. Yum Yum... ham, funeral potatoes, and blueberry jello. And I have a secret surprise for one Friday night for the grown-ups. (It's NOT a sporting venue).

I haven't had a spring break vacation for many years. Two years ago Britt and Jord and family went to Mexico with some friends. It seemed like everyone was going to Mexico that spring. I wanted to get in the spirit of Spring Break in Mexico so I got dressed up and took this picture on self-timer and sent it to them. If you can't join 'em in person, join 'em via the internet. Fortunately, this spring we'll be together. I think we'll have tacos to celebrate! Ole!

This picture kills me

Joyce's Four Wonders of Her World

2010-03-06T19:31:00.000-08:00

There are some things so grand that when you see them they stay in your mind forever. Undefinable colors, the ones you might have never seen before and might not ever see again, truly visual masterpieces from The Creator, are part of my "Joyce's Four Wonders of Her World". Up until last week I only had two "Wonders" that were on my list of all-time unparalleled beauty, the kind of beauty that takes your breath away, brings tears to yours eyes, and if you weren't driving or flying, would drop you to your knees in gratitude and wonder. But after my last little roadtrip from SoCal to NorCal I've added two more. I wrote about No. 4 on Facebook a few days ago and I did take a few iphone shots of which I'll post one below. (It does absolutely NO credit to the experience, but it's a little reminder for me.) The others you'll just have to use your imagination to join me in my reverie.

1. a summer sunset while driving out of the desert mountains overlooking Bakersfield in the distance. Brittany and I were on a roadtrip from Texas to Utah with a little detour to Granite Bay, CA. As we started to reach the top of the last mountain we noticed that the sun was beginning to set but not in any way either of us had ever seen before. As we began our descent we witnessed THE most spectacular display of pink, rose, magenta, fuscia, lilac, violet, and deep purple that I've ever seen in my life. Each time, just when we thought it couldn't get any better it did. The sunset seemed to play out every spectrum of pinks and purples imaginable. And because we were at a place where almost all we saw was sky, it was as if the entire world was aglow in royal colors. So many sunsets include various hues of red. But I don't remember any red in this one.

2. a circular flyover above Paris before landing on an early Sunday morning. I think it was about 7:30 am and I was flying from Munich to Houston with a plane change at Charles deGaulle Airport. The pilot, I believe routinely just for the sheer pleasure of all the passengers, made a sweeping circle above the city so we could experience la vie en rose from the air, but as I looked down from my airplane window I was awestruck that everything I saw was Gold! The buildings, the river, the parks, and especially, La Tour Eiffel, were radiating gold from the bottom to the top. It was just one of those very magical moments in time when the morning sunlight was so perfect as it lit up the City of Lights. This image was so emblazened in my mind that I can see it now just as beautifully as I did then, and I don't even have to close my eyes to see it. It's a place I go to often in my mind when I want to get away, even for just un petit moment.

3. a sea of grass while exiting the Grapevine from LA heading north up I-5. When I drove to Northern California the last Saturday afternoon in February the day was dark, dreary and cold. The Grapevine itself was draped in heavy storm clouds and I drove through periodic torrential rainstorms. As I descended the Grapevine I could see white snowy mountaintops to my right and sun in the future, albeit the time was going on 5:30 so the sun was beginning to set in the west. However, what I couldn't quite comprehend at first was what appeared to be a sea or lake on both sides of the freeway at the bottom of the hill. I kept thinking, "What's this? When did I ever drive across a lake here before?" My mind couldn't make sense of what my eyes were seeing. There before me was the most incredible expanse of a color I'd never seen before...it was blue, it was green, it was emerald, it was turquoise, it was seagreen, it was all those colors mixed up together and painted across the flat landscape. I kept looking off to the mountain range on the right to try to correct my eyesight, and then I'd see this amazing color sweep up the side of the mountain. As I got closer and closer the color settled back in to a more traditional Spring Green for the crops that were growing there. But for at least 5-10 minutes I saw the most beautiful blue-green I've ever seen. You know how when you get pure inspiration but you can't always put it into words. That's what the color was like. Indescribable.

4. Six rainbows while returning from this very same roadtrip last week heading back south on the I-5. Just when I thought I'd never see the above mentioned color again our Creator had another explosive colorfest in store for me. This time, someplace south of Patterson, between 5-5:30pm as the rain clouds were wrapping up and the sun was trying to shine through, as some of the clouds were gray and some were pure white, as the setting sun was fast approaching the lush green hillside and preparing to tuck itself behind them, I saw six rainbows. Huge massive arcs in the sky. They didn't just sort of show one side or the other, they didn't just sort of dance around a bit and then tease me by hiding, they were brilliantly stretched out across the California central valley, one after the other after the other, like an amazing fireworks display of rainbows. One reached up so high into the sky that as it peaked amidst the blue atmsophere it was as though it was saying, "Look here, Joyce, above the rain and gray and dismal day, there's sun and light and hope!" These clouds didn't just have silver linings. They were lined in prisms. Glorious prisms. And then I saw what I thought I'd never see again. Somewhere on the blue spectrum of the rainbow, before the purple, and after the green, was the amazing color of the imagined sea I'd witnessed as mentioned above in number 3. The next time you see a rainbow look for that color on the blue band. That's pretty close to what I'm talking about.

ps. As a fun little treat and an added surprise, by the time I started down the other side of the Grapevine it was 8:00 pm and inky dark when a huge lustrous full moon darted out from behind some clouds, just long enough to wink and smile at me, and then slipped back into his hiding place.

"...in the Grandiose Silence of the Snow..."

2010-02-12T19:53:00.000-08:00

Look at these beautiful pictures taken by Margaret Archibald that she sent me of her neighborhood in Potomac, Maryland! I think they are so beautiful I just had to share. I know folks on the East Coast are getting very tired of this absolutely crazy winter and February has been unbelievable and very challenging for them (especially recent transplants from California and Texas). But I stand in awe at the magnificent artistry of Jack Frost and Mother Nature. These photographs remind me of those I used to stare at and dream about in the Ideals magazine from my childhood. Oh, the places my imagination can wander with these as my guide.

Door Bells and Sleigh Bells and Schnitzel with Noodles

2010-02-11T11:06:00.000-08:00

With the bad economic climate and the bad weather climate going on all around us, with depressed stock prices and housing prices, with mudslides, and snowstorms, and unspeakable horrors of disaster from the Haiti earthquake, I'm posting a little photo montage of some of my favorite things from the past seven weeks: Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at the Gallachers, sister, Sandy's, arranging for Christmas carols and skits at my parents assisted living facility, dinners with friends and family and new friends, a post Christmas celebration in Cancun for the Archibalds, a blessing day for my newest granddaughter, a visit to Minnesota including the Mall of America and Build-A-Bear, and a drop-in at Park City for snow, Smashburgers, and the birth of Hudson Doyle, my niece, Brittlyn, and her husband, Brandon's, new baby boy, and Marlene and Kelly's first grandchild. These are a few of my favorite things...

CHRISTMAS EVE 2009

Mackenna tending Sawyer, Brigham tending the fire, Eli grating onions & enjoying a See's sucker, the perfect Sour Klups (old German) meal, Marlene cooking up the feast, preparation for the short Christmas Eve program, Jammie time, opening "one" present the night before, Sawyer getting into the spirit of things

CHRISTMAS DAY 2009

Kelly beginning the beguine, Dad & Mom happy to be here, Chelsea & Sawyer with gift from Aunt Britty, Chelsea & Eli on his way to visit girlfriend's parents, Sawyer pleased with his Christmas, Holly & Masa came for Christmas Dinner, another evening of feasting (Marlene always cooks 2 20+lbs turkeys for all who gather 'round)

BRINGING CHEER TO SUNRISE ASST. LIVING 12/26/09

Two of Sandy's grandkiddies, Tyler & Boston, singing from "Annie", Sandy's daughter, Shauna, and husband, Matt, performing from "I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change" (we discovered where Marilyn Monroe is living), part of the peanut gallery, Dad & Mom enjoying the entertainment, we assuming our caroling could cheer up the residents, Brigham singing Jack Johnson, more assumptions on our part, Chelsea discovered The Duke lives there, too, and Eli, his dog, Belle, and his girlfriend, Carrie, joining us again that evening for a few minutes.

MEANWHILE, BACK IN CANCUN end of December/09

Annie, Jake, & Juliette happy to be warm, Brittany & Annie enjoying the swimming pool, Jake & Jordan enjoying the sand and surf, and baby Juliette ordering up another round on Grandpa Nolan's tab

JULIETTE JOYCE'S BLESSING DAY -Park City 1/2/2010

Several Archibald men gather to participate in the blessing, I'm so lucky I got to join them, the lovely Juliette in her great-grandpa's blessing gown, 2 grandmas, a mommy, and a baby, I'm in love and so is Brittany

JANUARY IN MINNESOTA IS NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART

A 4-hour walkabout at Mall of America began with lunch, Juliette's just fine with the Sbarro's Pizza, exploring the wonderful world of Build-A-Bear with Annie & Jake, Annie chose Valentine Bear and Jake chose Peter Pan Monkey, in a few years Sawyer and Juliette get to make their favorites as it's pretty clear Sawyer's favorite is still his bottle, and bathtime

PARK CITY & PROVO, UTAH 2/6/10

Sawyer surveying the frozen tundra, Smashburgers with brother, Bill, and niece, Mackenna, and niece-and-new-mommy Brittlyn with brand new baby Hudson

SILVER WHITE WINTERS THAT MELT INTO SPRING--back home in CA 2/8/10

Sawyer at Capo Beach and the Dana Point Harbour, my two favorite walking places

Well, I guess these are more than a few of my favorite things. But just like diamonds, a girl can never have too many.

My Dad is 95 Today

2010-01-23T17:31:00.000-08:00

The Dr. Wilford Woolf Family--Pearl, Wilford (the younger), Lois, Anthony, Wilford, circa ???--best guess sometime before dad's mission (1936) but I bet when Dad reads this he'll be able to tell me from the model of the car which is either a Hudson or a Packard.

Happy Birthday to my dad, Anthony DeVoe Woolf, who is 95 today. He was born on January 23, 1915. As a young girl I never really did expect to see Dad live til he was 95 and I know he didn't either. He's outlived everyone in his immediate family even though he was older than his brother or younger sister. When I called late morning to wish him well he couldn't talk because he and Mom were on their way out to eat lunch at some restaurant to celebrate. I asked him the name of the place. He didn't remember but he knew it had good food and he knew how to get there, which is a good thing considering he's driving his car. Both of my sisters who live nearby are out of town and my brother, John, who's driving in from UT to spend the week w/ the folks arrives tomorrow. So although the nearest family members had a nice party for him last week, with sister, Sandy, making his mom's recipe of his favorite Lemon Meringue pie, today he and Mom celebrate together, without any of their 7 children around--sort of like when they started out their journey together 63 years ago.

Happy Birthday Dad! We all love you very much!

Happy Zvaigznes Diena!

2010-01-06T01:52:00.000-08:00

It’s January 6th, the birthday of many a fine notable like the poet, Carl Sandburg. Lou Rawls, the singer, died on January 6th. In Ancient Latvia January 6th was called Zvaigznes Diena, “The Day of the Star”. A very sunny day signified a year without war and a clear night without clouds signified a good season in beliefs.

On January 6, 1950, the United Kingdom recognized the Peoples Republic of China. The Republic of China immediately severed diplomatic relations with the UK in response. And a star was born (me) at 11:53pm.

So here we are today 01/06/2010 and I am turning SIXTY! How is that possible? I keep having moments of acceptance intermingled with terror. My nieces like to tease me about looking like Doris Day (have they seen Doris Day lately?) In honor of her I include one of her statements:

“The really frightening thing about middle age is that you know you'll grow out of it”

And that appears to be just what I’m doing.

Although I don’t particularly relish the big 6-0, I do believe in celebrating my birthday as much as possible by beginning early and ending late. Yesterday, the 5th, Sawyer and I began the celebration w/ a sunny walk at the beach. (ah, no wars this year?)

After his nap we went to see “The Princess and the Frog”. It seemed like the perfect time to take a 13-month old to a matinee…the local kids are back in school, the audience would be almost nil, and we’d have plenty of room if he decided to crawl around on the carpet. And all of these 3 assumptions were correct. Sawyer was mesmerized throughout most of the movie (I’m glad he didn’t understand all the voodoo stuff) and I had a great time “laughing!
laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of youth…” and dancing along to the Cajun beat. At 5:45 we picked Chelsea up from work and went to Outback Steakhouse for dinner compliments of a gift card I picked up at Christmas. Sawyer especially enjoyed my free birthday ice cream sundae. He went from squirming baby to all giggles and smiles. I even think I heard him say, “G’day mate.” I wonder if he’s learned yet that he’ll never find another love like mine.

Today we drive up to La Canada to spend a few hours with my great pal, Nancy. I will wear the beautiful pearls Brittany and Jordan gave me from China (so glad we’re all friends w/ the Chinese again) and hope for a clear cloudless night.

May this be a season of good beliefs for all of us.

Another Carny Act

2009-12-31T14:18:00.000-08:00

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls!

Step right up to observe and witness the AMAZING SHRINKING WOMAN! You will be able to speculate and read with awe along with the rest of the crowd, “Can she really do it?” “Is this feat humanly possible?”

The answer: YES, I tell you…Yes!

No longer will the unwashed masses assume along with her that her clothes dryer is shrinking all her clothes. No longer will the conspiracy theorists blog about China attaching size 12 labels to size 4 Petite clothing. The AMAZING SHRINKING WOMAN will attempt to use self-control, sugar-control, carbs control, and exercise, exercise I tell you, to SHRINK back into her wardrobe. She will become the svelte toned woman she was when she attended a wedding. Which wedding you ask? Why, back in 1972, and her daughter, Brittany’s, wedding back in 2001.

Is she doing this for fame, for glory, for world acclaim?

The answer: NO, I tell you…No!

She is doing this for 3 reasons: 1) ennui 2) a new decade and 3) slow acceptance of the fact that she cannot wear sweat pants to church.

So there you have it. Once again, another New Year’s resolution sent out over the internet. Exactly like the resolution last year. But this year there’s more motivation.

And what is that you ask?

The answer: The AMAZING TRIPLE CHIN!

HAPPY NEW YEAR MY FRIENDS!!!

Finding Mercy in the Season

2009-12-20T20:53:00.000-08:00

With great sadness I received a phone call today tenderly informing me that the husband (truly one of those rare men of greatness and humility) of one of my dearest friends passed away suddenly this morning. My heart has been heavy. My hands hang down. My tears cloud up my contacts.

I went to the San Clemente Stake Christmas Concert tonight looking for music to lift my spirit, particularly as the shock of the news was beginning to wear off and my emotions were coming forth in waves.

It was already crowded in the large hall, but as I looked for a seat for one, I heard a friendly voice, say, "Joyce, come sit by our family." I was so surprised but pleasantly so that someone had noticed and asked me to join them. And yet because they were even farther back from the front from where I started to sit down they said, "Hey, you'd probably get a much better seat up closer. There's always room for one." And so there was. I walked up towards the front and an usher seated me next to a darling woman who was very friendly as we soon discovered that I'd been close friends, in fact almost roommates, with her sister-in-law at BYU. It was fun to play quick catch up before the lights dimmed.

The music was beautiful, the voices talented, and the energy palpable from the program. But with the closing number from the childrens' choir, my heart felt heavy again as reality set in, and I thought of my friend and her girls and her grandchildren, that will miss their husband, and dad, and grandpa so much. After the closing prayer I quickly excused myself as I was feeling a little emotional when out in the lobby I heard my name called again, "Joyce, Joyce!"

I stopped and turned around and there was a very dear friend from Atlanta that I hadn't seen since 1987. She was visiting her daughter that lives in my stake. I received all of her children's wedding announcements (she has 11 kids) over the years and every Christmas card, and so it felt like I'd just seen her, and she certainly didn't look 20 years older. Just as cute and darling as ever. We had a nice quick chat as I mentioned I was leaving to drive up to Sacramento tomorrow. She promised that the next time she's in town visiting we'll get together, along with her husband.

We hugged goodby. I walked to my car. I looked out over the lights of San Clemente and around at the Christmas lights on the hills around me and I knew--that not a hair on our head or a sparrow falls without our Heavenly Father's awareness. He is mindful of my friends in their grief. He is mindful of me in my sorrow. He is mindful of all of His children. He has a plan, a divine destiny for each one of us. Some of us finish our earthly journey sooner than others. I read the following quote this morning before I went to church. Little did I know a few hours later how much more it would mean to me tonight. From our past beloved prophet and LDS Church President, Spencer W. Kimball in Faith Precedes the Miracle:

"I am positive in my mind that the Lord has planned our destiny. Sometime we'll understand fully, and when we see back from the vantage point of the future, we shall be satisfied with many of the happenings of this life that are so difficult for us to comprehend".

And all because our Savior, the little Lord Jesus, the babe in the manger, studied, grew up, walked the earth, served mankind, and sacrificed His life for us. And then He lives, He lives who once was dead, He lives our ever-living head!

Flights Of Fancy With Two Santas

2009-12-10T11:05:00.000-08:00

Yesterday Chelsea and I took Sawyer to visit with Santa Claus. As you can see he is now officially one year old.

Nannie Joy to the rescue

Who was that guy anyway?

After that we drove to Santa Ana, official county seat of County of Orange, to get a copy of Sawyer's birth certificate and apply for a passport for him. The passport agency is in the old courthouse, apparently built around 1910 or so. When you walk in the red brick building it feels like a step into the past. There were a few couples hanging around applying for marriage licenses. Also, a few friends of these happy couples taking pictures.

When Chelsea filled out the application for Sawyer she put height-24". Which reminded me that Brittany applied for baby Juliette's passport about 6 days after she was born because they have a post-Christmas visit to Cancun coming up. She filled out height-19", hair-brown?, eyes-blue? It's a pretty safe bet that she won't look like her photo even 30 days after the application is processed. My passport expired in October so I had renewed it the month before. Needless to say I didn't look like my photo either from 10 years ago. A little more lines and sags and jowls in the new picture. Fortunately, the new passports are so encrypted and encoded you can't really see your face anymore anyway.

So what's with our obsession with passports? This is the way I see it. What if someone calls and says "Come to Paris tomorrow" and the only thing holding you back is your passport? That would be tres mal, n'est-ce pas? Tres terrible. When Paris is sending forth its siren song I pay attention, or as my French teacher used to say, "Mademoiselle Joyce, fait attention!" And my response, "I believe, I believe!"

Gratitude

2009-12-01T17:39:00.000-08:00

(Spoiler Alert! This post concludes with a photo display like the 4th of July fireworks finale--are you ready for the show?)

For the month of November I posted on Facebook 30 days of gratitude. They were as follows:

1. Grateful for "Fall Back".

2. Grateful for technology that let's us see everyone's Halloween pix and share in the fun.

3. Grateful that I can feel connected to my mom just be eating one of her classic. breakfasts...grapenuts, a sliced banana and a bowlful of milk.

4. Grateful for great-great grandparents who "were truly a pioneer family, ever generous to a fault, the needy applicant was never turned from their door empty handed" obit. Sarah Ann Devoe Woolf 1814-1905.

5. Grateful that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.5a.Grateful that the Louvre is an iPhone app...hooray, I'm in Paris while sitting in my favorite chair.

6. Grateful for The Star-Spangled Banner and all that it represents.

7. Grateful for women of courage, especially Kimberly Munley.

8. Grateful for the creative industry of the Nigerians. Today I really had a good laugh at their latest scam approach. Too bad "Roger" forgot how to spell his name at the end and signed off as "Rogger". Did he subliminally mean "Robber"?

9. Grateful for and missing loyal friends.

10. Grateful to live so close to the ocean for morning and evening walks.

11. Grateful for the veterans...both those who did and did not make it home...and who have served our country so fearlessly.

12. Grateful for Primary songs that gladden the heart and soothe a baby's soul.

13. Grateful for delicious Mexican food on the waterfront.

14. Grateful for parents kind and dear, sister Cheryl who is conscientious, brother John who is hard-working, brother Fred who is compassionate, sister Marlene who is cheerful, sister Sandy who is diligent, and brother Bill who is my resource for many many things.

15. Grateful for The Plan of Happiness.

16. Grateful that inspite of a few severe childhood illnesses and occasional setbacks I've been blessed with really great health, and for me that's priceless.

17. Grateful for airplanes.

18. Grateful for the hospitality and good manners in the midwest.

19. Grateful that 33 years ago I woke up and had a Chelsea morning. Happy Birthday Chelsea!

20. Grateful to celebrate Juliette's birth day in a few hours. So far so good. All systems full speed ahead.....Ahoy there matey!

21. Baby Juliette decided it would be much luckier to have a birthday on 11-21 (as opposed to 11-20) so she waited to make her grand entrance until 3:42 am this morning. I'm grateful that baby J, Brittany, and Jordan are doing fine. The rest of us continue to catch up on Baby Einstein and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse episodes. Happy Birthday Juliette!

22. Grateful that Mr. Winter is behaving himself long enough that Jordan, w/ a little assistance from moi, was able to get up the lights and no one fell off the roof.

23. Grateful that I wasn't raised with a Minnesota accent. If one more person at the Trader Joe's asks me if Ive tried the cranberry/goat cheese log because it's "real good, doncha know" I might have to punch them.

24. Grateful that a little boy named Sawyer joined our family one year ago today. Happy Birthday Sawyer!

25. Grateful for a quick tour of St Paul Cathedral--stunning, inspiring, beautiful stained glass and the pipe organ music was magnificent.

26. Grateful that our country is unified on this day by expressing thanks collectively. Happy Thanksgiving!

27. Grateful for leftovers.

28. Grateful for rain when you need it and sun when you need it, snow and fog and wind and cool breezes...grateful for the many varieties of weather and seasons.

29. Grateful for the Atonement.

30. Grateful.

And now for the highlights of the past 2 weeks spent in Woodbury, MN:

THAT'S ALL FOLKS!

A Place for Love and other Tragedies

2009-11-04T19:43:00.000-08:00

Olea Mae Babbel Woolf at Bimbo's 365 Club, San Francisco, 1947

Golden Gate Bridge--1957

In 1946, a young girl from Idaho, born of German immigrant parents and freshly graduated from BYU, moved to San Francisco to complete a one-year program as a medical technologist at Stanford Hospital. The thrill of the magical city and the excitement of new friends and experiences in a world recently blessed by peace were magnified in the strong bold expansive symbol of the Golden Gate Bridge.

Olea and Tony Woolf, San Francisco 1947

This young woman who found love and romance within a few short months into her last year of education would frequently make her way to the bridge to walk across it. Standing in the middle and looking out across the S.F. Bay towards The City, Sausalito, and the East Bay represented new horizons and endless possibilities. Looking west across the Pacific Ocean or below to see a freighter heading out to sea, smokestacks billowing, inspired confidence and celebrated freedom in her mind and heart. This young woman was my mother.

As Mom and Dad married and quickly had 7 children, we children were the beneficiaries of my mother’s love affair with the Golden Gate Bridge. We not only lived across the bay where we could see the bridge every time we left our home, but we could also see it every day on our way to and from all of our schools. Our weekend outings often consisted of trips to The City for picnics and bridge walks. When relatives came to visit we wouldn’t let them leave without “the walk”. One family reunion in 1963, at least 40 or 50 of us lined up single file and played follow the leader all the way across the Golden Gate, while onlookers and gawkers took pictures and movies. As I got older my high school boyfriend and I used to drive over to the bridge for a stroll across it. After one high school prom at The Fairmount Hotel we made our way over to the bridge to “take in the view”. When my sister, Marlene, got engaged to Kelly, the proposal happened on the bridge.

Even after my folks moved from my childhood home, they made occasional trips back to San Francisco just to include a walk again across the Golden Gate. As they got older in years, with every walk, Mom would say, “Well, this is probably my last walk across the Bridge”. And when things weren’t quite going so well for her she’d say, “That’s it! I’m going to jump off the bridge.” There was never any question in our minds as to which bridge she was referring and also that she would also never do it. In fact, today we still often say, when there’s a problem brewing, “Well, you just might as well go jump off the Bridge”. Unfortunately, at my 40th high school reunion, upon asking one of my friends how his younger sister was, he answered, “I’m so mad at her. She jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge 5 years ago!” I was shocked and horrified and didn’t know how to respond. I guess it was good he was a psychologist because maybe he knew how to deal with that. I guess it was also good he was somewhat drunk because he probably didn’t notice me stammering and sputtering.

Upon the 50th anniversary of the Golden Gate members of the Woolf family, including yours truly, made the exodus across the bridge along with thousands of others. The city of San Francisco really made a mistake when they planned this ‘happening” because with the bridge closed down for the day, people started walking across from both ends. The idea was that we would meet and pass in the middle and continue to the other side. However, there were so many of us that we got logjammed in the center, the bridge started swaying, and we had to turn around, carefully, and try to make it back to land.

A very familiar site, Mom and Dad beginning their walk

When Mom turned 80 we celebrated her birthday by walking across the bridge for her "last walk". T-shirts were made in her honor. And of course we had to dance the hokey pokey.

Never quite sure what we might see passing beneath

Some of the celebrants

One of my favorite pictures

When parts of the bridge were being sold several years back Marlene and Kelly arranged for us to buy one of the portions as an anniversary present for our parents. It was cemented into their Auburn backyard.

Tony and Olea around 1992-93

And was literally one of the only things still standing after their recent fire. Such resilience, such strength, such a role model!

After the fire

NO WONDER WE LOVE THIS BRIDGE!

Open up your Golden Gate, California here I come

Current State of Affairs

2009-09-26T00:24:00.002-07:00

Mom and Dad are trying to adjust to their new surroundings. They have their good days and bad days, however Mom is struggling the most while Dad is trying to be a good sport. Marlene and her family and Sandy are doing everything they can to help them accomodate to Sunrise Assisted Living. Our concern for our parents' happiness can be all-consuming; I am so grateful for my sisters and what they are doing for our folks. But to take my mind off of all that has occured since the fire and to celebrate the joy of life and hope for better times ahead I turned to my camera and shot a few pictures of Chelsea and Sawyer a couple of days before he turned 10 months old. This is one of my favorites.

The Great and Dreadful Day

2009-09-13T20:38:00.000-07:00

"When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee" Isaiah 43:2

The last picture I have of my folks standing in front of their home 7-09

Dad, brother Bill, Mom and me 7-09

Two weeks ago today I was sitting in a Carl's Jr. parking lot with Sawyer in the back seat of my car, contemplating whether or not I would buy a chocolate malt. Two weeks ago today I received a phone call in that parking lot from my sister, Sandy, telling me that our parents' neighborhood had been evacuated due to a wildfire and that no one could find them. Two weeks ago today seems likes two years ago tonight. For the next 4 or 5 hours individual and conference phone calls, emails and texts were flying around among my brothers and sisters, as we tried to piece together what was truth and what was fiction. Most of us found ourselves in front of our computers watching KCRA-Channel 3 News live on the internet trying to determine if our parents' home had burned down. And asking each other and God, "Where are they?"

It's very difficult to conceive that this could be your parent's home

Bill was quickly able to pinpoint, capture, and email to us

The brick column and patio furniture look familiar, but could this really be where Dad sat on the porch every morning reading his newspaper and greeting his hummingbird friend?

And when the newscaster points to the rubble declaring that most of the homes on Cedar Mist Circle are gone, is he really pointing to our once livingroom?

Here's what we've been able to piece together albeit maybe still not too accurately: Sometime around 2:15-2:30 pm on Aug 30th, Dad (94) and Mom (85) had come home from church. Dad was in his office and smelled something burning so he walked into the kitchen to see if Mom had burned some toast. But there was no toast. He went back to his office and looked out the window to see the bushes and trees on the side of the house up in flames and partially charred. He went outside and saw that the corner of the house was on fire. He grabbed a hose and tried to start spraying down the house but soon realized that the whole neighborhood was on fire. He scrambled back inside, got Mom and his car keys, they climbed in their car in the garage and drove away from the house. They live off a circular street at the top of a hill with only one way in and out. We learned from a neighbor that the street was bumper to bumper with evacuees and the cars were going slowly down the hill. Apparently Mom was quite terrified and kept trying to jump out of the car while yelling "our house is on fire!" The neighbors kept trying to keep her inside the car.

John pulled this photo from The Auburn Journal

Dad was probably in shock but decided to drive to my sister, Marlene's, house which is about 25 minutes away, hoping they'd returned from their trip to Utah. They hadn't. He then drove back up to Auburn and thought he would go to a friend's house, but that street was closed off. Eventually he spoke with some people standing around who told him about an evacuee shelter at a local grade school. They drove over to the school.

In the meantime, my niece's husband, Brandon, had his mother drive up to Auburn from Loomis and try to locate our parents at one of the shelters. At the same time, a member of our church and Mom's surgeon, Dr. Bradshaw, had been driving all over looking for them. First he'd been told that they'd been taken by ambulance to the hospital so he went there and searched for them with no luck. Then he was told that they'd been taken by the sheriff to the evacuee center. He drove there but no luck. He continued to search all the shelters and possible locations at which they might be. He was told that they'd gone to their children's home in Granite Bay for dinner so he contacted, Kelly, my brother-in-law. But Kelly told him his family was still in Utah and that none of us knew where they were. Dr. Bradshaw went back to the school and saw the folks standing across the room with Brandon's mom. He told us that never can we imagine the feeling in his heart when he saw Tony and Olea, well, and in good spirits. He went out to his car and wept. And upon hearing of his diligent search we wept also.

My sister, Sandy, and her husband, Bill, drove up to get the folks and take them to their home in Woodland. My brother, John, and his wife, Gayle, were visiting in the Bay Area for a high school reunion. They drove back up to Sacramento to rejoin the family. The Gallachers arrived home Monday night. I drove up Tuesday morning with Sawyer, and Chelsea later flew in the next day. We all took various assignments in trying to quickly remediate the terrible disaster and bring order back into the lives of our parents. Cheryl, Fred, and Bill lent their support from afar. After the burned out acreage was allowed to be re-entered it was verified that indeed, our house and many others had burned to the ground. It was strange and awful touring the neighborhood and seeing the destructive and nonsensical chaotic path of the fire...some homes spared...some homes destroyed, including 4 homes that belonged to members of our church.

Front walkway leading to the house

In the far upper LH corner is the patio where the playhouse stood. A little left of center is the remains of my refrigerator that I gave the folks when I moved to Dana Point (the one I bought a few days before Brittany's wedding)

On Wednesday, those who could went to D.I. and bought cleanup clothes so we could work on the property. We don't have to worry about demolition and restoration because the insurance company allows money for clean-up and we're not going to rebuild. However, there was time needed to sift and sort through the ashes to see if anything remained. We found some pottery pieces, an anvil, some porcelain doo-dads, a part of Dad's trumpet and camera, coins underneath much rubble, Dad's dogtags and the metal parts of Dad's WWII rifles, and other misc. and trivial things, which have suddenly become very precious to us.

A few dumb things we and the firemen found

The part that pleased us the most was finding that the Golden Gate Bridge was still standing and barely damaged. Several years ago the Golden Gate Bridge was being renovated and parts of it were being sold to the public. We purchased a 3-4 foot section and gave it to the folks as a gift, as the bridge has always had great meaning for our family. At the time we had it cemented into their backyard in the garden. Now, while everything around it was gray or black and nothing but several feet of ashes, there stood the Golden Gate, like a phoenix, it's orange-red paint still intact. It now is on its way to its new home in the Gallachers' backyard. There's a picture of this somewhere but I don't have it.

My nephew, Brigham, holding two Golden Gate bookends, but the actual GG structure can't be seen in this photo

Me, Chelsea, and my sister, Sandy, posing before the mass of destruction

Brother, John, in his D.I. cleanup shirt

John continued working at the site and working on the financial and insurance aspects of the fire. I helped with the recovery at the county and state sites and pulling paperwork and permits. Marlene and family helped with meals and babysitting. Gayle, Marlene, Sandy and I shopped for furniture and clothes and everything needed to set up a new household. I can't begin to describe every detail and complication along the way. We were all exhausted. Marlene and Gayle found a beautiful assisted living location for the folks to move into. Then we needed doctors reports and TB tests and evaluations. And we all had to put our 2 cents in. In the meantime, we took the folks over to survey the damage in the daylight.

Dad, using his cane to point out where his office was and that he probably wouldn't have to worry about organizing and filing all his paperwork there anymore.

Mom and Dad, still smiling. Dad said he came from good pioneer stock, and whereas his great-grandfather and grandfather had given up all that they had and pressed forward with only their wagons, so did he and Mom with their Chrysler 300m

The folks gave some money to their neighbor who had shown kindness to them over the years. She was renting and had no rental insurance so lost everything, but she did find her engagement ring in the ashes.

Two days ago we helped Dad and Mom move into their new place. They can be reached at 6100 Sierra College, Rocklin, CA 95677. Any memories or old photos that you might have would be appreciated.

Within 3 days new grass had started to grow back through the ashes

Within 3 days we had located a new place for them to live

Me, Sawyer, Dad, Mom, sister, Marlene at Sunrise Assisted Living

Thank you to everyone for your messages of concern and love. We, as their 7 children, are so grateful that their lives were spared. Dad is very happy with the new living arrangements. Mom is not so sure. We hope they are happy there. Marlene lives very close by and plans on visiting and helping out as much as possible. Sandy, too, lives not so far away. Providing Mom doesn't run away or get lost this should be a very good place for them. If Mom isn't able to adjust, then we will have to come up with Plan B. But for today and tonight, this is Plan A. And since we never know what tomorrow brings, Plan A is good enough.

"In case you haven't noticed the white people are melting out here" (memorable quote from Fools Rush In)

2009-08-10T14:09:00.000-07:00

Chelsea begged me to tell this story. It is her favorite and although she is 32 years old, whenever I recount the events that happened on that steamy afternoon, she laughs hysterically and with tears dripping from her eyes asks me to repeat them again, and again and again. And of course, with each repetition it gets a little bit more embellished. But today I offer up the facts, exactly as they occured.

Back in The Woodlands, TX, when I was a hard-working ever-running realtor I would occasionally take a break from the phones and pagers and incessant demands and tell my assistant, Leslie, that I was ducking out for a matinee. This would provide me with two hours of uninterrupted peace. Leslie would field my calls while I would take refuge from the glaring bright sun, triple-digit temperature and 95% humidity and step inside the cool, dark air-conditioned stadium seating of Tinseltown...The Woodlands megaplex theater. I rarely cared what the movie was. Often I'd take a nap. The magic of Tinseltown, for me, was downtime where no one could find me. I'd walk in, self-indulgently order a hot dog, a bag of buttered popcorn, and an icy diet coke, put mustard, relish, and onions on the hot dog, grab napkins and a straw, and head off to my oasis in the desert.

One particularly hot, humid and BRIGHT SUNNY weekday afternoon I checked the newspaper (back when we checked newspapers instead of iphones or the internet) to see what was playing and when. Ah ha! "Marvin's Room" was starting at 2:00 pm. I told Leslie that I was off, figuring I had about 15 minutes to spare, which gave me enough time to park, buy my food, and bypass the trailers. And since I didn't particularly care what I was seeing, well, if I was a few minutes late, so be it.

I got there, followed my plan, and carefully balanced my food as I made my way to the door that opened up to my nirvana. It was very cold and very dark inside. In fact it was extra dark because it had been extra bright outside and my eyes still hadn't adjusted. I could see two people sitting quite close to the screen but other than that I had the rest of the theater to myself. Still juggling my junk food I climbed up the stairs, higher and higher into the cave, realizing that the movie had already started. I found a row and started sidestepping to the left, watching the screen and stepping oh so carefully. Step. Step. Finally I positioned myself in the middle of the row and started to sit down.

BUT THERE WAS A PERSON THERE! Well, I couldn't really see a person, only the big wide smile and very white teeth of a Black man who happened to be the only person in all of those rows and in the only seat that I'd decided on. I was so shocked--as was he, to have this dumb stupid middle-aged woman carrying a tray of food approach him and sit on his lap.

I mumbled something lame like "I'm sorry" and hurriedly moved over to the right and down a row. Regaining my composure I sighed, "Ahhhh, peace at last". I put the coke in the right cup holder, my popcorn in the left cup holder, and started to unwrap my hot dog. Just as I was going in for the second bite, the credits started rolling and the houselights came up. What the heck? The only other three people in the theater stood up and left including my former seat partner who took a closer look at me and scratched his head.

Meanwhile I did my own head scratching. I looked at my watch. It was 2:25. I looked around the now empty theater, stood up, again balancing all my food and walked out to find the manager to ascertain what was going on. She told me that the newspaper was wrong but to make it up to me she'd comp me another ticket. Since I had all my food I still wanted to see a movie and sleep. She suggested the only other movie that was about to begin. And that's how I saw, yup, "Fools Rush In".

(ps--I can hear Chelsea laughing now just knowing I'm going to post this)

Blue Hydrangea

2009-08-07T17:26:00.000-07:00

Like in old cans of paint the last green hue,

these leaves are sere and rough and dull-complected

behind the blossom clusters in which blue

is not so much displayed as it's reflected;

They do reflect it imprecise and teary,

as though they'd rather have it go away,

and just like faded, once blue stationery,

they're tinged with yellow, violet and gray;

As in an often laundered children's smock,

cast off, its usefulness now all but over,

one senses running down a small life's clock.

Yet suddenly the blue revives, it seems,

and in among these clusters one discovers

a tender blue rejoicing in the green.

English translation by Bernhard Frank of Ranier Maria Rilke's poem

In The Wee Small Hours

2009-08-01T19:34:00.000-07:00

A sweet baby sleeping, a cool breeze blowing, tomorrow's dinner marinating, Diana Krall singing, a fragrant candle burning, the evening sun setting, and a daughter soon returning. This moment of quiet solitude and bliss is rare and worth remembering.

What Do You Say to the Missionaries?

2009-07-22T20:26:00.000-07:00

I'm visiting at my sister, Marlene's, in Granite Bay. The missionaries called to say they needed to borrow a book and would drop by to pick it up. A few minutes ago as we were sitting in the living room we saw the missionaries walking up the pathway to the front porch.

"Helloooo," Marlene said, as she answered the door, "let me grab you," and she turned around to get the book.

"Let me grab you? To the missionaries?" I asked.

We started laughing. As so often happens, she forgot to finish her sentence as her brain was racing from one thing to the next. Such is the life of a busy mother of 6 active teenagers and young adults.

What's Good About Today

2009-07-10T19:10:00.001-07:00

I have been weighed down lately by worries and concerns. Attempting self-prescribed SST (Sand & Surf Therapy) I went to my favorite spot at Capo Beach this afternoon with my beach chair, towel, umbrella, and all-purpose tote in tow (thanks, Shannon Sorensen, for this much-used gift from Char and Cam Archibald's wedding).

After having just barely driven out of my apartment complex, I saw a woman hitchhiking with a half-gallon of milk in her hand. (I call this my "opportunity corner". Last night, as I was heading to my Sound of Music rehearsal, at the same corner a woman was sitting on the ground, confused and bleeding, with her bike laying next to her. After bandaging her up as best I could with the items in my car, I sat on the sidewalk with her until her boyfriend came and took her home.) My new hitchhiker friend, Theresa, apparently works at the grocery store a block up the street from me and had gone into work to pick up her check. However, the line for cashing it was so long she missed her bus. She asked if I could just drive her down to the PCH (1 1/2 miles west) so she could catch another bus into San Clemente. I offered to take her home instead since I was heading to the beach anyway and she wasn't that far out of the way.

Our conversation consisted of her telling me her story. She was 50 years old, a recovering alcoholic, had a tax lien from the IRS and wage garnishment, lived in "transitional" housing, and was reclaiming her life. I asked her which AA group she attended and she said it was called "What's Good About Today". I asked her what motivated her to stop drinking and she said she was tired of run-ins with the police, jail time, job losses, fights with her boyfriend, and beating people up. (She may have lost a fight or two as I observed she was missing a few teeth--and apparently everyone in this town has a boyfriend but me.) When we got to her place I told her maybe I'd see her at the grocery store as she smiled and waved good-by.

Having detoured beyond the Circle K where I originally planned on picking up a soda for the beach, I drove back to Costco to buy a hot dog and a Diet Coke--consistently the cheapest meal in town. As I was putting ice in my cup, a boy around 8 yrs old was struggling with his pink lemondade. I asked him what the matter was. He said, "It keeps leaking on me--the lid doesn't fit". I lifted up the lid to discover the lemonade was all the way to the top. "Sip a little out first," I instructed, "and then let's try this again". He sipped and I secured the lid for him. He said "thanks" and ran off to find his mom.

Finally arriving at Capo I set up my heretofore mentioned paraphernalia and reached for a library book I'm studying called "The 10 Best Questions for Living with Alzheimer's" when along came 20 running boys and men, ranging in age from 5 to 25, who were were apparently involved in some sort of fitness camp and had decided to set up in front of me.

"Squat 10 times," "Lift those legs," "Run in place" were the commands I heard as I ate my hot dog and lazily turned over. Now this is a large beach. I don't know why they had chosen this particular spot, the one blocking my direct view of the ocean. But when they were all done I heard "Hey, let's take a picture of us". I looked up as they crowded together and one of them said, "Turn this way to show off your abs." I turned the other way to hide mine. And then I heard, "Hey, let's take our picture in front of a girl...but not her. Find a pretty girl." I couldn't bare to look up and see to whom they were referring.

They left. I read my book.

And then, just when I figured it was time for me to head home I heard great laughter and giggling. Down in the waves, closer to the shoreline were 2 little girls about 6 years old. They were doing cartwheels and somersaults and rolling around in the water. Sometimes their legs were straight. Sometimes they fell sideways, knocked over by the waves. Always they giggled and laughed and shouted with glee, encouraging each other with "try this!" or "look at me!" I thought about the sand their moms would have to wash out of their hair and all the sand in all the wrong places on their little bodies. And I thought, maybe next time, not today, but maybe next time I might do a cartwheel and somersault in the sea.

Feeling refreshed and with my load lightened I went home. As hard as it may be to believe, (C'est incredible! the French would say) I knew a woman in Texas named Sandy Butts. Next time I hope that's what they'll call me.

Independence Day

2009-07-04T20:20:00.001-07:00

A favorite little landmark of mine in San Clemente. The driftwood seems to be V for Victory or L for Liberty or just a piece of wood holding up a symbol of the greatest country in the world.

Into the Top of the Mountain

2009-07-01T21:40:00.000-07:00

And it came to pass that I, Nephi, did go forth up into the top of the mountain, according to the directions which were given upon the ball. And it came to pass that I did slay wild beasts, insomuch that I did obtain food for our families.

(1 Nephi 16:30,31)

Happy Anniversary Mr & Mrs Arkeybald!

2009-06-30T01:03:00.000-07:00

Annie, Brittany, Jake, & Jordan Archibald 6-4-09

June 30, 2001...ah, I remember it well. Brittany and Jordan were married in the Washington DC temple. It was a sunny rainy humid day. The power went out in the Marriott Hotel where we were staying. Forget about blow-drying my hair for the reception. The real question was, would we find our way down the stairwell? The flowers were beautiful, the food delicious, but nothing compared with the ceremony performed by Jordan's Uncle Bruce Hafen. It was a wonderful time with great memories. And then the plane that was supposed to take the happy couple to Bermuda was grounded for the storm. So they ended up spending the next day at Jordan's parents, opening presents, while Chelsea and I, oblivious to their plight, roamed around the mall. Do you think they could have called me? Do you? Do you? (okay, I threw all that in for Brittany because she still hasn't forgiven me for getting rid of Orange Kitty, that is to say, adopting her out to a nice family in the ward).

And now, 8 years later, 2 precious children and one on the way, 3 degrees under their belts, with 4-6 moves behind them and a few more to go, they're better than ever. What a team...what a family...what inspiration! I love you all...very very much!!!!!

But such a shame for his million dollar education they couldn't get the name right.

Welco Babbe Cousi

2009-06-26T14:49:00.000-07:00

If my goings and comings are confusing you, well they're confusing me too. However, since I just returned from the Babbel Cousins Reunion in Midway, UT, I thought I'd quickly post that today and then get back to my previous ramblings later.

A perfectionist might be bothered by the sign below. However, not I. Wrapping the remaining letters around the corner I hoped we were smart enough to figure it out considering we're loaded with doctors and lawyers and plenty of Indian chiefs. But ya never know with this crowd!

Grandpa and Grandma Babbel had 9 children and 59 (there was much confusion and many inaccurate guesses as to the actual number but I know I'm right, in true Babbel fashion) grandchildren. Two died in infancy and one more was adopted later on, bringing the final tally to 60. About 27 or so, along with some spouses, were able to get together. For 5 hours on June 20th we ate, kibbitzed, sang, laughed and cried. Testimonies were shared along with the ever famous "Cisco Kid". One general conclusion was drawn by all...We're proud to be part of the Babbel Family. What a heritage! What a legacy!

Brad Harper, DDS, Blackfoot, ID, carrying on Uncle Wendell's tradition

L-R back row: Dennis & Joanne Smith,Sandy Marble,Marlene Gallacher,Cheryl Munns,Joyce Woolf

2nd row from top: Wendy Babbel & Larry Ferguson,Brent & Kim Harper,Candy & Rob Bateman,Brad Harper,Bruce Harper,Candy Croft,John Woolf,MaryJane & Dave Babbel,Darrell & MaryAnn Back,Norman Schenk

3rd row from top starting with red pants: Connie Brundage,Bernie Mortenson,Gayle Woolf,Ann Babbel,Fred & Soni Babbel,Kay & Jim Ivins

front row: Kelly Gallacher,Fred Woolf,Lee Brundage,Jay Munns holding Samantha,Bill Woolf,Brian Harper,Gary Babbel. Ivy Chase, Doug Cloward, and Bret & Mariana Harper had to leave before we could actually get organized for a picture.

You may be surprised to learn that I actually hail from tall folk. For instance, cousin Bruce, the one whose head is between my two sisters, Marlene and Cheryl, is actually standing on the ground...not on the hearth like those of us on the back row. The only ones there, shorter than I, were Samantha Olea Munns, 12 months old and of course, Baby Sawyer, 7 months old. I'm tired of being the runt in the family but occasionally it comes in handy for, oh, say, 6 hour plane rides to Boston.

Boston-Part 2

2009-06-18T23:10:00.000-07:00

Chelsea, Sawyer and I took the JetBlue redeye from Long Beach to Boston on May 19th. This was Sawyer's first airplane ride. He also seems to be the only one who got any sleep. We arrived at 2:00am PST or 5:00am EST and took a taxi to One Western Ave., Boston, known among locals as the ugliest building in Boston--known to us as the student apartment Brittany, Jordan, and kiddos lived in while at HBS. I have grown very fond of their 7th floor digs, and will miss all my good times there. The Archies were still in Potomac having been at Jordan's sister's wedding and didn't arrive until later in the afternoon at which time I drove back to the airport to pick them up. The following are some of the things we did those beginning few days before Brittany and Jordan alohaed it out of there.

First we all had to play with Baby Sawyer.

Chelsea, Sawyer and I walked to the Harvard Bookstore and posed above the Charles River.

Later we went to Walden Pond, got lost looking for Thoreau's house (because it's not there) and found our way back to the crummy little beach that was loaded with strange-accented speaking people. This was one of our only "hot" days. Which is why the crummy little beach was so cram packed with "s-as" people. Chelsea was convinced as we wandered through the woods that men from Deliverance were lurking behind each tree. Annie and I perservered singing "The Bear Went Over the Mountain", and Chelsea chimed in on the chorus, "Enough already I tell you, enough already I tell you, Enough..." (you get the point). I'd been wanting to go to Walden Pond for so many years, to wander through the mighty forest that inspired Thoreau and countless generations, that I was a little disappointed by some of the commonness of it. However, Brittany said that when she was there in the falltime it was gorgeous and quiet and uncomplicated. So perhaps I will have to go back.

In spite of all they had to do before taking off 2 1/2 days later, Jordan managed to surprise Brittany with a little late night pre-birthday party and ice cream cake from BR's so we celebrated along with some of their friends. It was fairly casual.

I drove Jord and Britt back to the airport on Sat and then the rain started coming and it rained and rained. We even had thunder and lightning. (No big deal for some of you, but I don't see much of that since I left Houston.)

But not to be outdone by Mr. Badsport Weather, Chelsea and I started planning some great day trips, threw the kiddos in the car, and off we went...exploring again...with bottles and diapers and car seats and maps and GPS's and cell phones and Cheez-Its and Goldfish and sippy cups and Diet Cokes and Aleve. Oh yes, coloring books and crayons and balls and dolls and blankies and blankies and blankies. And more Diet Cokes and Aleve.

More to follow. I leave for Utah tomorrow but hope to continue this exciting saga while on the road.

Yours truly, Jack Kerouac

The Boston Trip

2009-06-17T23:59:00.001-07:00

This is what Brittany and Jordan did when they went to Hawaii :

This is what I did:

Reggie...11/94-06/08/09

2009-06-09T10:51:00.000-07:00

Eli called from Salt Lake and said, "Mom, Dad got me a new puppy and I'm bringing him home. He's part border collie/Australian cattle dog/blue heeler. I know you don't want a dog in the house so I'll keep him in his kennel when he's inside". That was almost 15 years ago. And he slept in the kennel for oh, maybe 5 days. From that point forward he was one of the family, sleeping anywhere he darn where chose.

Reginald Storey, "Reggie" became the best friend any boy or girl could ever have. He brought me such joy and companionship. He listened to my secrets and never passed them on. He greeted all my visitors but kept the bad guys out. He encouraged me to go on walks and hike in the Sierras but loved to take naps and watch TV as much or more than I. Although he was Eli's dog I got to have him alot of the time while he was travelling the world or working in far off places. Family reunions and large family dinners will not be the same without his hanging around our feet and eating the leftovers.

Last week Eli called to tell me that he didn't think Reggie would make it much longer. He had Old Dog Vestibular Syndrome and couldn't stand up, was very sick, and literally on his last leg. A few days passed and it became clear Reg would have to be put down. How sad we were when we heard it was finally over. Eli will pick up his ashes in 2 weeks. Hopefully I'll be able to join him in the Sierras as we sprinkle the ashes in the wind. And hopefully Reggie will be one of those who greet us with other family members and friends as we pass through the veil and enter act three of our lives.

Reggie, I hope you're running and jumping and chasing squirrels. You will be missed.

If You're Fond of Sand Dunes and Salty Air

2009-06-07T19:30:00.000-07:00

I'm back from New England and have lots to talk about but company's coming tomorrow so things will have to be put on the back burner again. However, I had to post these pictures of Jake and Annie's Crocs and their treasures. Jakey was playing with the McDonald's kids meal toys while we were at Cape Cod and Annie was collecting sea shells. She also wanted to make sure I got a picture of her Cheez-Its. Unfortunately, Annie buried her dinosaur and when it was time to leave she couldn't find it again. In desperation she went from mound of sand to mound of sand digging away. Nope, nothing there. Perhaps that was her first experience in the vastness of the "sands of the sea".

Okay, one more picture.

There were some men from the Hyannis Port Conservation Department bagging clams. They had a few on the end of the truck that were separate from the rest. I told Annie she could take one home with her. Unfortunately, we didn't remember about it until several days had passed and Chelsea started commenting on the "strange" smell in the house. Ah yes, the clam had begun it's stealthy getaway. Stinky! Stinky! Poor little clam had to go down the apartment trash chute. Poor apartment trash chute collectors had to deal with it along with the MOUNDS of diapers that also went down the chute. Those guys are unsung heroes.

Hey There, Little Red Riding Hood, You Sure Are Looking Good

2009-05-18T19:17:00.000-07:00

My dad reads my blog and emails his comments to me periodically so I decided to set up his account allowing him to post directly. I found his last comment to be hilarious (refer to the previous post, comment 4). Maybe that means I come by my plans to avenge legitimately. However, currently Herr Schwein is out of town. And although we should be rejoicing, Chelsea said to me earlier today, "Wouldn't it be a shame if we're both out of town at the same time?" She has a point. We leave for Boston tomorrow night and will be gone for 2-3 weeks. If he's made his annual trip to the Fatherland at the same time we will be sorely disappointed as that means we won't be here to enjoy the peace and quiet. This is crazy thinking, I'm sure, but it makes sense to us.

In truth, I've been working on becoming more of a peacekeeper of late, trying to avoid contention if possible and not poking around in ant hills if unnecessary. So included in my DNA let me now recount how the last name of Wolf or Wolff or Wolfe became Woolf. (Which, no matter how many times I spell it as "W-O-O-L-F...two O's, one L, one F, no E," people still spell it either Wolf, Wolff, Wolfe, or Fox. So.....

Back in the 1700's during the Revolutionary War period my esteemed ancestor, Anthon Wolf, (Wolff, Wolfe) was, at the age of 17 years old, forcefully abducted from his farmland by the Hessian Army and conscripted to fight in the war. He was not allowed to say goodby to his parents or even tell them where he was going. Being a resourceful and friendly young man with no desire to fight a battle that wasn't his, he made friends with the Dutch families on board the ship, and upon landing in New York, added an "O" to his name to fit in and hide out with his newfound Dutch friends. A draft dodger? Yes, indeedy! And we're very proud of that fact.

By now you are saying, "Oooooooooooooo, so that it explains it!" What it explains I'm not exactly sure but I think it's a little bit of interesting information in the Woolf respository of trivia.

So It's Come Down to This

2009-05-12T18:53:00.000-07:00

We are going to have to move. Our German neighbor, Herr Schwein, has won. His incessant loud rude behavior is causing us to react poorly. I no longer take responsibility for my attitude or actions. When a good night is one where you sit around plotting all the ways to destroy the man across the patio, then you know it's time to skiddaddle. Rotten eggs and incoming water balloons are too lenient. Slashing tires and keying the side of his car all seem within reason. His drunken parties with his foreign friends and St. Regis wait staff are never-ending. The loud guffaws, shrieking cackles and booming techno music cannot be drowned out by our TV, washer, dryer, dishwasher, or multiple area fans. I am on the other side of the apartment and with my bedroom door closed can still hear him through my bathroom vent. We've asked him to tone it down, complained to the office, called the cops, and have questioned the sanity of my giving my Walther PPKS to my brother, Bill. All those years I carried a concealed weapon in TX never knowing I might have reason to use it in sunny CA.

We are waiting for approval on a condo we've looked at. If that doesn't come through then we will find something else.

So far Chelsea has had two really good ideas:

1. to sit on our patio opposite his and repeat back to him, in a strong German accent, everything he says through a bullhorn. Bill has promised to mail us the bullhorn.

2. to drive by late at night after we've moved and still call the cops on him.

All of this seems like very reasonable mature behavior. I have not entertained or plotted such delightful revenge for many years. I'm going to the library tomorrow and look on the "Inspirational Reading" shelf for The Count of Monte Cristo. Au Revoir.

Happy Mothers Day

2009-05-09T15:01:00.000-07:00

Chelsea, Sawyer and I have been sitting for our Mother's Day portrait. Fortunately, Reggie the Dog was able to join us. It was finally completed and I post it here:

I've been thinking about Mother's Day. I mailed my mom a box of See's Nuts & Chews on Wednesday and called Dad to remind him to check the mail lest it become a runny dripping package of melted chocolate in the heat. I'm heading off to Trader Joe's to pick up a bundle of daffodils for Sawyer to give to his mommy. This will be Chelsea's first Mother's Day--an interesting place to be as a single mother with a 5-month old baby. I enjoyed a movie with a friend last night. Afterwards she was telling me that she hated Mother's Day at church and wouldn't be showing up except that two of her adult children asked if they could go with her. I told her that seemed to be a common feeling. When prompted I remember very well a certain Mother's Day back in the 80's when my world sort of came crashing down. This was after the cold pancakes and fried eggs served to me in bed by my kids, after church, and before we were heading to my folks to celebrate the day with a big dinner that I'm sure my mom prepared.

When I was a child I loved making pink construction paper cards in grade school to present to my mom on the 2nd Sunday of May. I was proud of my artwork of flowers and faces and sure she would be, too. I thought it was magnanimous to tell mom to stay in bed while we seven children destroyed the kitchen. I never once thought about how Mom might be feeling...overwhelmed, exhausted, or worn-out. I always assumed she was thrilled with all the hand-made cards and cut roses from our house and the neighbors' and was touched by the congregation singing the obligatory "Love at Home" during Sunday School. Maybe that's why, before the consolidated schedule, she often stayed home Sunday mornings saying she had to get the roast in the oven. Maybe a great Mother's Day for her was hiding out with all of us gone, enjoying the peace and quiet, and reading the funnies and rest of the newspaper while lying on the sofa with the sun streaming through the front window. Maybe the great invention of self-timer ovens wasn't so great.

Fortuntately, sometime back, I'm not sure when, I discovered I liked Mother's Day again. I could enjoy the church service without guilt, remorse, anger, frustration, anxiety or tears. I didn't care if I got a wilted carnation, a piece of chocolate, a package of flower seeds. It didn't matter to me if I lived alone, went to church alone, and came home alone. I figured out that Mother's Day had nothing to do with ME as a Mother, but everything to do with me celebrating my mother, my grandmothers, my aunts, my sisters and nieces, my daughters, and my girlfriends as women and mothers, Mary as Christ's mother, Mother Eve, and my Heavenly Mother. These are all the best mothers I can think to celebrate. I love listening to the primary children sing their hearts out to their moms. I tune out when the talks begin and focus on the women I love and admire. I'm just so very grateful that I've been allowed to be a mother, that my daughters have been, too, and that my incredible mother is still with us and celebrating her 85th birthday on May 28th.

If you're celebrating Mother's Day tomorrow I hope it's filled with joy for you and those you love. When we used to ask Mom what she wanted for Mother's Day and she'd say, "Just be happy" I now know what she meant. With all the challenges life throws our way I think I've become a happy mother anyway, which means "Happy Mothers" Day is about me, too, as I've joined the Happy Mothers club.

62 Years and Counting

2009-04-29T16:35:00.000-07:00

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY MOM AND DAD!

Procrastination

2009-04-28T19:19:00.000-07:00

PROCRASTINATION: Someone in favor of a country full of crasties

Successfully having procrastinated one more day a task that I have put off for one more year, I fully herewith commit that I will accomplish and succeed at this task TOMORROW. In the words of thinkexist.com procrastination may be "...hands down, the thief of time" but it is also "...the key to prolonging life".

If you happen to read this blog after April 28, please help me be accountable by checking in and seeing if I did what I said was going to do.

Blue Skies Ahead

2009-04-23T18:26:00.000-07:00

Manuel Antonio Park

Thank you Facebook for letting longtime but not forgotten friends reconnect.

When I found Nancy Bailey who had also searched for me but spelled my name wrong (and frankly, who can blame her because who knows which of my last names she used?) and received, I'm sure, a heartfelt but not acceptance-expected invitation to join her and her boyfriend at their new digs in Costa Rica, I was all over it. In the past week I have had so much fun receiving emails from her asking what I'd like to do and see as she sends suggestions, including checking out Manual Antonio Park. That is definitely on the list. I've never been to a real rain forest. Long Beach and New Orleans Aquarium of the Americas don't count. I'm looking forward to the howler monkeys although Sawyer is making remarkbly similar sounds himself. And 30+ years ago I used to read a children's book to my kids by Gyo Fujikawa that included a picture of a sloth. Now I might see one in the wild, not just at a zoo, or the one looking back at me in the mirror. Along with all this I hope to be the girl in the pink dress experiencing many slothful moments. Sofa be gone...hello hammock!

Do You Know the Way to San Jose?

2009-04-20T23:47:00.000-07:00

If someone said, "Come to Costa Rica" would you go?*******If someone said, "Fares are so low you can't pass it up" would you start searching flights?**********If somene said, "We'll pick you up at the airport, feed you, and let you stay in our mountain villa and seaside cottage" would you start blowing the dust off your swimsuit?********************If someone said, "We'll teach you how to surf?" would you start looking for board wax?**********************If you knew the only time you could make it was in less than 2 weeks and you could only manage 4-5 days would you say, "Heck yeah, I'm in!"?******************************************If in the course of all of this you could additionally and intentionally schedule a 5-hour layover in Houston after a redeye to have breakfast with one of your dearest friends would you buy Visine?

Planning and planning and planning....way too much time and time is money.

Spontaneity......priceless.

Cherries Plukt at Noon

2009-04-15T21:00:00.001-07:00

In the course of going from one thing to another to another I came upon a paragrah in a 2006 word document I'd saved that was my "introduction-bio" or whatever you'd call it when I spent two crazy months on two LDS singles sites. The paragraph made me laugh and barf at the same time. Just a few days previously, an apparently somewhat mentally unstable woman in my ward told me that I must go to the Orange County LDS singles activities because my future husband was searching for me there but he was ready to give up because he was afraid I wasn't coming. After checking to see if she had tarot cards or tea leaves stashed in her purse I told her that I wasn't quite ready for a husband yet; that I still had some things I had to do (like my taxes, clean my room, wash my hair, alphabetize my spices, see my grandchildren married, etc. etc.).

These two little experiences shouldn't have freaked me out but I admit they did. It's caused me to ever so slightly evaluate my current social standing of which I had been feeling quite content. I'm trying to create a career that can carry me for the next 15 years or before dementia sets in, whichever comes first, and mixing that up with a love interest isn't in the business plan.

Meanwhile, my niece sent me a recent essay she wrote about why she loves cherries and acknowledges the chief contributors being her mom and me. And one thing leading to another and another and another caused me to capture this picture from the internet and use it as my laptop wallpaper along with a poem by Jeffrey Spahr-Summers:

Cherry

Said to be

Red

Sweet

With seed

Once in a lifetime

Treat

Firm

Ripe

So certain

Like love

Then lost

Forever

Is this my problem?

He Is Risen

2009-04-11T01:06:00.000-07:00

All that is gold does not glitter,

not all those who wander are lost;

the old that is strong does not wither,

deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

a light from the shadows shall spring;

renewed shall be blade that was broken,

the crownless again shall be king.

--j.r.r. tolkien