The MOVE and purging - AND - IT ALL FIT IN

I have promised some people that I would write a blog about our recent move.  Honest, it was a manic 6 weeks, but now that we are on the other end of the tornado, I feel great.

We decided to put our house of 23 years on the market right before our daughter's wedding.  Don't ask!  We had some very good reasons and it was NOT an impulsive decision.  Trust me on this one.

Right before we put the house on the market we became familiar with the Japanese book on Tidying Up which is on the NYT best seller list.  We decided that moving from a 3-bedroom house with two sheds for storage into a one bedroom condo called for extreme measures.

This guy did not make the cut

Both of us followed the principles of the book, which is to gather ALL items of a certain category, and then touching each one ask "Does this bring me joy?"  Items that have survived several moves and many years of gathering dust were recycled or reused.  After a few 100 of these decisions the muscle memory became pretty strong.  In our new condo we have a NO JOY box, which is collecting things that survived the first cut.

We did it.  We moved everything into the condo with room to spare.  The storage unit is almost entirely taken up with Bethany's riding stuff which we will store until she rides again.  It has been quite a journey, and in the middle of it while questioning our sanity, we did not know we would be able to finish.

So where did the stuff end up?

• We recycled mattresses to an organization ,  UTEC Lawrence which recycles mattresses and provides young people with a job.  I think about that every time I drive by one on the curb.  What a waste!
• We took 20 boxes of books to More than Words in Waltham. They also have an excellent mission statement of running a cafe and book store on Moody street and selling used books run by young adults.
• All home goods and clothing we took to Global Thrift, also on Moody Street in Waltham.  I support them more than a huge organization like Salvation Army.  (Just not sure where their stuff ends up)
• Food and paper goods I took to Bristol Lodge soup kitchen.  I stayed to help serve the homeless one day.  That was very rewarding
• All baskets and vases any flower store will take with much appreciation
• Best Buy has an incredible recycling program.  We took all electronics, old audio tapes, VHS tapes, DVD, and unbelievable they take CD Jewel cases.  They also take any cables from electronics.  
• Sheets, pillows, and any house hold items we took to the Middlesex Human Service Agency.  There are something like 108 homeless facilities in Waltham alone.  They welcome anything like this.
• I also ran a virtual yard sale on my blog and raised over $200 for WATCH in Waltham.
• ADDED 12/3/2015 - AFTER THE MOVE I discovered two others recycling opportunities Yarn and needles can be taken to Boston Health Care for the Homeless Program located near Boston Medical Center.  They have a program that involves knitting for respite care patients
• Some Whole Foods Markets, and probably other stores, recycle corks from wine bottles

Leaf Raking over the years

While I was outside today at 7:30 am raking leaves into bags I reminisced about my leaf and fall memories.  I don't remember raking any leaves in Colorado.  When we moved to Vermont and lived on Park street we loved the fall and leaves.  We raked them into piles and jumped in the piles.  We made entire houses and forts similar to snow forts out of them with very wide walls between the rooms.  Eventually we raked them to the curb and I think the town picked them up or maybe we burned them.  I cannot remember which.  Those leaves provided hours and hours of entertainment for the 6 and then 7 of us.  The smell in the fall brings me right back to 69 Park Street and playing in the front yard with the leaves.

My next big leaf memory is when we moved into our current house when Christopher was 12 years old and Bethany was 3 years old.  Our Arlington house had some leaves but not like this house.  We raked the leaves into a big pile and jumped in them and played in them and eventually bagged them.  I was probably recreating my childhood on Park Street but my kids played outside in the leaves, at least at that age.  Our first Christmas card in that house was them in a leaf pile.

Over the years, we became busy, and leaves became a chore.  There were lots of them, we were working full time, raising two wonderful children and even some graduate school thrown in there.  One year we dragged the leaves onto the boundary line between us and our neighbors.  That was the only complaint we heard from Dot and Neil, who otherwise were the best neighbors in the world.  Their granddaughter used that hill in the winter for sledding and he was upset that it would ruin her sled hill.  One year we dragged the leaves onto tarps, loaded both of our station wagons with the tarps and drove them to the DPW recycling pile.  This was my favorite method but it was a chunk of time we no longer have/had.

At a certain point we started hiring someone to clean up our leaves.  We threw money at it and a noisy machine arrived twice a year and blew our leaves away.  I am sorry to offend anyone including my husband, but I hate those blowy leaf machines.  They ruin the sounds and smell of fall and leaf raking.  Gasoline and noise are not what I think about for leaf raking.  This spring we decided to mow our own lawn and clear up our own leaves.   Rodney has done all of the mowing this year and we were able to keep ahead of it.  Fast forward to the fall and the leaves that are accumulating.

Rodney decided to sail to the Bahamas.  OK, he is sailing from Marathon, Florida to the Bahamas with my sister and brother-in-law helping them move their boat/home south.  Right now they are waiting for a weather window to make that sail and then he is headed home to do his part raking the leaves.  Hopefully the snow we are expecting will arrive after he is finished with his part of the raking.

SO in the meantime, I set a goal for myself of bagging two bag a day of leaves.  I enjoy it but it is a solo activity and I am not a solo person.  20 minutes is my tops for a solo activity.  That is why gardening is out, unless someone is there talking to me.

I thought of inviting someone to rake with me, and then I would rake with them at their house.  Any takers?

I admit it, I am stubborn and am not going to hire a landscaping company to spread noise and gasoline smell once again in our neighborhood.  Picking away at it by two bags a day will get the job done, and Rodney will return from the Bahamas to finish the task.

TV Watching

In a conversation with friends this weekend we talked about TV shows that we used to watch.  There were not any recording devices or an internet to store all the shows.  There was not even replays that I remember.  On Sunday night, we all watched Disney and Bonanza.  The kids watched Captain Kangaroo.  It was great to remember all of those shows.  The memories of the entire family sitting down to watch a show together and 50 years later, it seems that we were all watching the same ones.

It is so different now.  I already watched the Sox games earlier, which is my default viewing lately so I was at a loss for what to watch.  I started to watch some PBS, since I have had enough news for the day and then noticed that a Facebook friend was watching the hockey game so that is what I am watching now.  There was a point in my life when I would never watch a hockey game unless Boston was in the Stanley Cup finals.  I have actually grown to like watching hockey.  But I digress.....

There is such a variety of shows to watch and times to watch them that there is not the same common language around TV.  Sure, there are shows that a lot of friends watch, Mad Men, but even that can be watched On Demand after the show airs.

Our discussion also included listening to the radio as well as watching TV.  I don't remember that as much as our first TV which we got in Colorado in 1960 to watch the JFK inauguration.

I actually don't watch that many series and I hate most reality TV, except Dancing with the Stars of course.

TV is also a background activity for me.  Sometimes it is on while I read my email, or quilt.  As an extravert, I want background noise most of the time, so it serves that purpose.

So, TV watching has changed and I am not sure how I feel about that.  I much prefer Lucy or My Three Sons, to most series today.  We did watch West Wing recently and that is great TV.  House of Cards was OK, but not great.  And somehow I have become a sports fan.  Maybe it is to be able to converse about sports, but I really enjoy the Sox games, and as I blog this I have the LA vs CHI game on in the background.  I don't really care who wins, I am just happy Montreal is out of the running, because they beat us.

Last note.  It is funny to see how deep those old TVs were.  Technology sure has change, which enables this different TV viewing.

Trip to Maine to visit Susan and her family of dogs

There is nothing like an old friend, and visiting them to relive old memories and create new ones.  They knew you when you were still making silly life mistakes, were not quite as wise and old, and in some cases were wild and crazy.

I just returned from a quick trip to Maine to visit a friend who I have know since Chris was 3 months old, so 33.5 years.  She moved there 2 months ago from upstate NY where she has lived for a long time.   It was great to be in her house, see her dogs and to sit on couches in front of a wonderful view or marshes and the ocean.




There are a few people in my life who I really enjoy shopping with and she is one of them.  Otherwise I HATE shopping.  I bought a wonderful new shirt, some stocking stuffers, greeting cards and a present for my soon to be retired husband.  It was not just any shirt, it was one I have been looking for forever, but finally found what I want.  BTW, I did not know I was looking for this shirt until I found it.

One wonderful thing about Susan is her love of dogs.  She has two pugs and two labs.  I re-met the pugs last January when I visited her in Florida, but had not seen the labs for 5-6 years since I visited her old house in NY.  They energetically and warmly greet you as soon as you open the front door.  One of the pugs sat on my lap for a lot of the visit.

We walked twice on the beach with the labs.  I love to watch labs in the water.  Both of hers are pretty old so Susan does not want them to chase things except sticks and balls in the water while swimming.  Yesterday morning we walked at low tide out to some rocks which at high tide are not reachable.  It was not quite low tide so at times I did walk through 6 inches of water and my feet were pretty wet.  We reached the rocks, and some cairns that people built.  It was an amazing walk.

We ate a picnic this lunchtime on some rocks in Biddeford Pool, along with a seagull who sat watching us for a pretty long time.

It is really wonderful to know someone for this much of my adult life.  Susan knows a lot of my history, and remembers details that I don't.  I remember details that she does not remember.  There have been periods of time when we are not in contact, but with each visit we agree to make the time for each other.  We like to spend time together and I for one feel better about myself after a visit with her.  That to me is the definition of a good friend.

She is only 90 minutes away now, so I anticipate more frequent visits to see her, and the dogs and for walks on the beach.  I realized that life is too short to not make time for quick visits like this and for longer ones too.  We almost were on our way to NYC tomorrow for a quick trip but thought better of that.  Soon though, a trip to NYC!

A sad Passing yesterday - Mother Moffett

I hear more often of people dying the older I get, but hearing of Bette's death has really struck me deeply. She was such a unique person, and an incredible presence when she walked into the room.

I met Bette when her family bought our house in Brandon, Vermont. They had just moved back from Paris. Mom nicknamed her Mother Moffett. Her son Joe was my boyfriend during most of High School and into my first year of college. He died his senior year of high school, bunting a ball that hit his heart mid heart beat. His death was my first major loss.

After he died, Bette and I did a lot of things together to comfort each other. We saw movies and plays and kept each other company in our grief. When I left home permanently, she was always present when I came back to Brandon and we kept caught up during those times. She became a friend of mine in our shared grief.

Mostly I saw Bette and her husband Hugh, at the tennis courts on our property. Dad and Mom had wonderful parties down at the tennis courts and that group of friends watched over me from teen age years, into adulthood and motherhood. I saw Bette last at a funeral for another one of our family's friend.

I still have letters and cards she wrote to me. They are in the same box as all of the notes and letters that Joe wrote to me. As part of my grief process I am going to go read all of those letters. I tried to find a picture of her today, but could not find one. It is easier in the digital picture stage to store and have pictures. The memories I have of her are in my head and the sound of her voice is clearly stored in my mind.

Bette had one very peculiar behavior. When you talked to her, she never looked you in the eye, she looked at your shoulder and continue talking. It used to freak me out a bit, but later it was charming.

As I watch my parents generation pass away, I face my own mortality. It also allows me some time to revisit who I was in high school, who I was dating her son, and who I was in a small town in Vermont.

So, I imagine Dad and Bette and Hugh and Frank are having a mini-reunion tonight. They are catching each other up and laughing at old stories from the tennis court days. Hugh has his orange broom ball sneakers on, Dad is smoking a cigarette and listening to everyone, Frank is laughing as only Frank did, and Bette is staring at their shoulders and catching them up on Brandon news. If only I believed in Heaven it would be easier, but I do believe in Heaven for them to be able to have this reunion.

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Read The Hobbit

"Read the Hobbit" has become a shortcut phrase in our house.  I cannot remember when it started but Chris was young, maybe 8.  One of us was looking for a book to read and Rod said "Read the Hobbit".  I think both Chris and I had started the book earlier than this first episode, but did not get into it, so our experience was not such a positive one at the time.

Any time after that, when the three of us would ask for a book to read, Rod replied "Read the Hobbit".  By this time, out of obstinance we were not going to pick it up.  It was sad that a book that was so dear to Rod was dismissed by the three of us.  I think he is still trying to get us to read it.

So, the topic of seeing the movie comes up, and I think I want to see it.  The dilemna is, will seeing the movie wreck the book for me which is what lots of movies do to perfectly well written books.  On the off chance that some day I do read it, should I wait to see the movie until that day.

Lots of people will think me crazy for my reaction to reading The Hobbit. That is OK.

So, we venture out in the snow later today to see the movie, and maybe, just maybe I will be inspired after having it pushed on me for 27 years to actually read the book.

From Vivian for Bernie

I wrote the following about a chapel service at Star Island given by our dear friend Vivian. Vivian taught me that night to reach out to those in pain. They can decide whether to answer or not, but don't hesitate to reach out.

Now as another dear friend from Star has been moved to hospice, I am reminded of how important it is to reach out to those we love who are in pain and remember those who have died that we love.

Here is what I wrote that summer:

THE CHAPEL and VIVIAN

The Chapel creates magic, or rather we create magic often in the Chapel. The obvious magic is the lanterns we carry up the hill to hang and light up the inside. Also obvious are the stories told each night inside the Chapel. We all leave with a part of someone else, shared from the pulpit or from the audience.

This particular night was special; super-magic an extraordinary event that demonstrated the inner connected web which binds us all. We were traumatized a year ago by the news that Vivian had been diagnosed with bone cancer. Would I see her again? Would she come to Star again?

Yes, Yes, she did and she lit the Chapel up that night along with Tom. No lanterns were needed. Like a spider she connected all of us with the threads of her year and with her compassion, honesty, truth and wisdom. The Chapel had an aura, a moment so special and dear.

No one wanted to leave the Chapel, in case we might never see Vivian again. My first thought was that we could all sleep over in the Chapel. We finally did leave but not before our paths down the hill had been guided by Vivian, Tom and their story. Only on Star, and only in the Chapel. We are all connected by a web.

and the poem I also wrote:

The music was over
Long after we should have left the Chapel
Bodies were in pews
On the hill the lanterns were flickering
And spirits stayed connected by a fiber
As thin as a spider web
No on moved


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Dulles Airport memories for 50 years

I have always had a fondness for Dulles Airport. Mama, my maternal grandmother, lived near there in McLean. Starting at a very early age, we visited Mama there. She took us to our first McDonalds restaurant, and as soon as Dulles opened, we visited there on our annual summer visit. We did not fly into Dulles in the early years.

This is What I remember as a child, how modern it was

The first visit, and my first view of Dulles, was that it's design was from very far into the future. The curve of the roof, the open hall and the people movers to take you out to your flight were all very revolutionary in 1962. Mama had a friend, Mary Boesche, who worked at Dulles. She always gave us the VIP tour when we were there. One nugget I took from Mary, is that she stopped at every water fountain to take a drink. I sometimes do this today and remember Mary's words of advice.

On Friday morning, as we were landing, I reflected that I have been coming to Dulles for 50 years, and deplaned to see the 50th anniversary posters.

The main terminal has changed a lot. It is no longer modern and is no longer standing alone in the middle of the landscape. The people movers don't seem used very much, whereas they used to be the only way to get to your plane. There are 3 separate terminal buildings now and tons of office parks, hotels, and other industry to support the airport.

I still carry that childhood memory. Mama asked us to get dressed up in a dress to go to Dulles, a la Mad Men. We take our tour and had lunch. Watching the singular terminal emerge as we drove over a small hill, is one of my most vivid childhood memories.

In later years when we visited Mama, she took us by Reston, the planned city near Dulles, and then the next visit there was a paid toll road to get there. Now it is no longer a unique airfield. It is an airport which has been retrofitted to comply to new regulations, and expanded to accommodate the volume and international flights.

I took some pictures of new things at Dulles. Features of flying that Mama might not understand if she were alive today. She died pre-911 TSA screening, and pre-smart phones needing an electrical charge,and pre-massages at the airport.

I will always have a fondness from a child's view point about the Dulles of 1962, and will put myself back there when I arrive and depart.

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8000 Georgetown Pike- there is still a 711 at Spring Hill Road!

On my way back to Dulles last night I visited memories of my childhood visiting my grandmother at 8000 Georgetown Pike in McLean VA. Mama lived there until she died in 1993, at which point the property was sold and developed.

I found my way there on the new super duper highways, and the old narrow winding "country" roads. The road is so windy around her old property that I would not be able to just pull over, and I also knew from a sibling, that it is now a gated community.

I really wanted to see any semblance of her house and swimming pool being still there. I did pull in and was going to take a picture of the gate, since her old property is down the small dirt road and over a small hill. A resident pulled in just then and looked at me like a vandal (or whoever else they are keeping out with the gate) so I pulled out with only a picture in my head of the gate. In a way it is good the gate was there because I had no chance of seeing something else on the footprint of her house and pool.

The road to her house has never been widened, and the 711 that we often visited is still on Spring Hill Road. The road west to Dulles is very much the same, and Bull Run Park, and the Madeira School look the same.

So I carry images of Mama's house and pool in my head and I don't need to go find 8000 Georgetown Pike again. It was a great trip down memory lane with ups and downs, and not just ones on the windy road.


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Whatever gives you hope!

Friday morning, at 6:30am I got a call from Bee, that Shakes had escaped from her third floor apartment in Somerville.  Shakes, the Wonder Cat, has mobility issues since his mother had distemper in her last trimester.  The vision of him getting down the three stories of stairs, boggles the mind, since the two stairs outside our house are a challenge to him.

As soon as I was awake enough, my mothering instinct kicked in and I got dressed and drove into Somerville.  It actually took a request from Bee, that she would like it if I came in, to jump start my mothering instinct.

We walked around the block, and looked under cars, porches and inside bushes and the Wonder Cat was no where to be found.  I had very little hope of seeing him alive, and probably conveyed a bit of that to Bee.

We got coffee and a bagel, and she went off to work and I came home.  In the middle of the day, she accepted by text, my offer to come search for him after work.  I arrived and starting circling her apartment, asking everyone if they had seen a cat.  The side benefit, is that I know a lot more about her neighborhood and neighbors.

As dusk set in, and as 2 room mates, her boyfriend and Rod, joined our search Bee made a poster and she went off to get photo copies made.

The back story, is that when we first moved to Lexington we lost her stuffed elephant on a trip back from the play ground.  We made a poster at that time as well, and again, I thought there was very little chance of finding him.  Someone did call and we raced over to retrieve him with the reward in hand.  He now wears and ID tag with telephone information in case he gets lost again, and that was 19 years ago.

As she made the poster on Friday night, I though about hope.  Putting them up on every telephone post and sign, gave me a little bit of hope, but not a lot.  It seemed like an activity to keep us occupied as darkness settled in, and the temperatures reached freezing.

Saturday morning, I received this text "City cat just ate a whole cup of food, little rascal! He is fed and happy, but dirty."  PHEW!

So even though I proclaim myself a Pollyanna and eternal optimist, I did not have a lot of hope of finding the Wonder Cat.  Making the posters was a shot in the dark, and an activity.  Shakes just spent one of his lives by being outside for 36 hours out on an adventure in the city.  His return renews my faith a bit that things do work out in the end, even though we were prepared for the worst.

Memories of another hurricane-Bonnie

As hurricane Irene bears down on us this weekend I can't help but relive another similar hurricane, Bonnie. It was the same time of year, and it also hit land in North Carolina.

My Mom and her husband Charlie organized a BIG family reunion on Bald Head Island in NC. It is a wonderful resort island off Cape Fear, where you drive around in a golf cart. Every rental house has a golf cart to use. The beach there is warm and beautiful and the golf course is to die for.

Most of both of our families were present, and it was the first time that we met most of them. Mom and Charlie rented some big houses, we all arrived, took the ferry to the island and we settled in. We ate communal meals and visited each other. We watched stars through Dan's wonderful telescope, played tennis and golf and in general, we played.

Mom had the foresight to know that Hurricane Bonnie might be a threat, so when we were evacuated mid-week, we moved en mass to the Hilton in Wilmington NC, where Mom had reserved enough rooms. Bethany and her cousins sang as we left on the ferry "My Bonnie lies over the Ocean, by Bonnie lies over the sea, . . . ."

The hotel was the one the TV newscasters stayed in. Just them and us in the hotel. We were even interviewed by one of the early morning news shows. They needed stories!

When we arrived at the Hilton, all the pool chairs were in the bottom of the pool. That is where they are stored during hurricanes. Pretty creative I think. We also received a letter from the management about the ability of the hotel to hold up during the hurricane. I do remember water pouring through the window seals during the worst part of the hurricane, and we stood just outside during the worst part leaning into the wind and being held upright by the force of the wind.

We did not let something like a hurricane interrupt our reunion. We carried on playing and eating and enjoying the combining of the two families.

I always remember Bonnie when I hear about a hurricane coming, but even more so this weekend as Irene bears down on us.

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You can kinda go home again

Last night some of my siblings gathered at Long Point on Lake Champlain with some distant cousins for a reunion. It was wonderful to reconnect and a walk down memory lane and a chance to meet their families.

From 1964-1976, our family spent summers on a 4 acre island off North Ferrisburg VT, Gardiners Island. The first summer we travelled from CO for the summer and the next summer we moved to VT permanently.

On Long Point there were three siblings, the distant cousins, who all had a "camp" on Long Point. These were the Ross, Patterson and Brooks families. Last night we gathered as many as could come, at one of the camps. I had not seen some of them for 35-40 years.

At first, we guessed who was who and which sibling was close in age to one of ours. I was called by my sister's name and thought one cousin was much younger than he was. We got oriented though, plunged into the lake for a pre-dinner swim, grilled our food, shared our dessert and jointly cleaned up the small kitchen. It was great.

As the sun set, we looked out at The Island and the view could have been 40 years ago. The same boat fishing, the same boat anchored, the same plunge into the wonderful lake water and shrieks of kids as they hit the water and the gorgeous Adirondack sunset.

Little has changed and lots has changed. As I climbed the curvy stairs of dark wood, it was 1964 again, in that the camp has not changed much. We have all had 40 years of Life to catch up on, of joys and sorrows. Parents and siblings have died and lots of children and spouses have been added.

If we still owned The Island, we would have stayed caught up. We all vowed at the end of the evening to get together more, and one cousin, who thirsts for family called me Sis at the end of the evening.

I am confident we will see them more. George, my brother, and Linda, one of the cousins have both moved to VT recently to be closer to family. Their desire and energy will reconnect us all, and even though we don't own The Island any more, we still are brought together by memories made years ago on Long Point.

I did go home again last night.


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New quote of the day - "Sure of you"

"Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. "Pooh?" he whispered.
"Yes, Piglet?"
"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's hand. "I just wanted to be sure of you."
— A.A. Milne (Winnie-the-Pooh)

The above quote is the basis for the sermon that was delivered at our final service this past Sunday. The quote and the resulting sermon were both brilliant. It will now become my quote of the day moving my current quote to the archived quote of the day.

For many of us in the congregation, the quote and the sermon were perfect, since this week we lost two members of our congregation.

One young woman was in the very first junior high youth group that Rod and I led in 1995. We found a picture of that very first youth group. With them we started a tradition of taking two pictures. A smiling one for their parents, and a second one of them making a funny face. Her face in the second one making a "wonderful" face, when I first saw it this week, was a stark realization of how precious life is. She was just shy of 29 when she died.

The second death was a member of of our covenant group. He exited the subway on 911, just in time to see the second tower fall, and walked back injured to his house in Brooklyn. He has struggled for the last year with sarcoidosis and has been in a hospital or nursing home for over a year. He actually became quite an advocate for sarcoidosis rights which was caused by living in NYC during 911, and the following months. The covenant group process really allows you to get to know someone in a very deep way. I knew Drew as a member of our group and will miss his empty chair at our next meetings. Even though he could not be at our meetings for the last year, we were "sure of you". We knew he was thinking of us during our meetings. We started a practice recently of imagining what missing members are doing during our meetings as a way of honoring them during our meetings.

With the recent loss of Uncle Chuck, and now these two losses, I am sure that my congregation is there for me and me for them. I am sure that my mother, siblings, aunt, cousins, children, nieces, and nephews are there for me. I always say that I was not sure why I joined First Parish until Daddy died, shortly after we joined. Knowing me almost not at all, the congregation enveloped me and gave me support on the worst day of my life so far. They held me in ways I did not know how to ask for.

Now I will say, when I really need to know someone is there, "I just wanted to be sure of you".

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Make the trip Now and floods of happy memories

We went two years ago to a mini reunion in Nevada to visit my deGanahl cousins. There was not a critical mass but after hearing that my Uncle Chuck died on Sunday I am so thankful we made that trip.

Daddy and Uncle Chuck with their wives, Mom and Auntie Pat bought the Lazy EH Ranch in 1954. In fact they closed on the ranch the day I was born, at least that was the story I was told. We grew up with the 5 deGanahl cousins on the ranch until 1965, when we moved away to Vermont and they continued to ranch it until it was sold a few years ago.

Daddy and Uncle Chuck learned how to ranch from other ranchers in Yampa, who called them the "kids". They worked and played together very well, and shared a lot of wonderful personality traits as well.  Chuck's granddaughter said "generous" on her facebook yesterday about him.  She is right on.

From my perspective, they were both quiet, gentle men, who knew what people needed and quietly put that in place to then watch others enjoy.  They never wanted the credit, they just wanted to watch others enjoy.  Two years ago, during our visit, Uncle Chuck heard me remark about the rosemary in front of their house, and the next day he had cut loads of rosemary and put a paper towel around it, in a plastic bag, for me to take home.  Daddy every Christmas would go downstairs, light the tree and then let us run down to see the miracle of Santa Claus.  He would be quietly sitting, grinning in the corner, sipping his coffee, as he watched our eyes light up, and observed us playing with the new toys.  They were both quiet and thoughtful, and unassuming, and very very very bright.

I have been on a 35mm slide scanning binge, so as soon as I heard about Uncle Chuck, I started scanning the pictures from Mama's (Chuck and Mom's mother) 90th birthday celebration, which was the last happy large gathering. The next unhappy large gathering was when Daddy died in 1995.  The picture of Daddy and Uncle Chuck from the 90th is out of focus, but the focus of the pixels is not what matters.
The deGanahl family for those years in Colorado, were our best friends. We lived 7 miles from Yampa, a town of 200 people, down a dirt road on a ranch at 8000 feet in the Rockies. I always say it is as close to heaven as you can get. We played and worked and grew up together. 

Seeing some of the deGanahls cousins, two years ago was lovely.  Unfortunately, the gathering for Uncle Chuck's service soon will be because of his loss, and there will be more of us present for that.

I for one, commit to seeing more of them more for happy occasions, in addition to the inevitable unhappy ones.

Memory of Qammi - enter Shakes the wonder cat

Hopefully this is not in the category of oversharing.  When our chocolate lab was alive, she and I had a silly little routine.  I take a bath in the morning and she would run into the bathroom as soon as she heard the water running. Qammi would sit patiently waiting until I held water in my hands and she had her morning drink of water.  I don't know how this routine started. A few guests were surprised by her pushing open the bathroom door, when they started the water running for their bath or shower.

I have missed this routine since she died.  Enter Shakes, our rather uncoordinated cat, to say the least.  He has cerebellar hypoplasia so other than shaking and being uncoordinated, he is a "normal" cat.  Since Bee left for college last week, he has been rather lonely and has followed me into then bathroom for my morning bath.  The first few mornings he tried to get up on the edge of the bath tub but fell or flopped onto the ground.  In a way I was glad that he could not replace Qammi in this silly little routine.  

He may not be coordinated but he is determined. This morning, he got himself up on the edge, and he stayed there, mildly shaking, so I tried the water in hands routine, and he drank the water out of my hands.  His name is Shakes because he does shake, so not very much water reached his mouth.  The memories of Qammi were there, but the experience was different enough that I just sat and grinned AND then he fell down and flopped on the floor saying "See, I knew I could do it, I just needed a little more practice, see you tomorrow, same time, same place."

Memories are just that - they are not fact

My wonderful son and I had a funny conversation about which apartment we lived in when Murg brought him the helicopter.  I have the advantage of age, which come to think about it may not be an advantage after all if senility has set in.  I was so sure about being right on this one we made a $100 bet.  We called Murg in the middle of the conversation and Chris asked him.  There is some deal going on between them, that Chris is paying Murg $75 to say it is the house Chris thinks it is.

Today on Face book, Murg attributes a phrase to Chris, that I am convinced he himself said.  It is a long story and the punch line is "Sally, could you please have another sip of coffee?"  OK, I was being really cranky on our Saturday errands driving around, and I actually did need another sip in order to be around any one else on the earth, and you all know how important it is for me to be around others.

I have told this story hundreds of times, and I have always attributed it to Murg, but you know, I am not sure about this one.  Certainly not sure enough to bet $100, but maybe $75, if the math works out right.

Sally's Trip to the Dentist

As I lay nearly horizontal in the dentist chair today, of course memories of the dentist chair from my early years came flooding over me. The drills were a lot noisier, a lot slower and a lot more smelly. The Novocaine, I am sure, hurt more. The dentist, I am sure, had NO empathy for the patient. Unfortunately, I spent a lot of hours in the chair as a child.

I now have the most wonderful dentist in the world, Fawn Rosenberg. I refer anyone to her who even hints that they need a dentist, and she sends me 2 free movie passes. Now she has a new technician, who I love. The very first technician that Fawn had, Laura, was wonderful, and since Laura there has not been one I love as much. Mind you, I have been going to Fawn for over 20 years.

I approach the chair, with my distractions and yoga breaths. Today I had my ipod and listened to Mystic Chorale tunes. The technician, talked to me, asked me about myself and in general is what I need in the chair. I need distractions, and I need someone to act as if they really care about me.

Fawn has always cared about me, and today, after my "deep" cleaning, she filled a small cavity at no charge, because it was one she worked on less than one year ago. When was the last time, any professional, did something for you, for free? Dentists have gotten better since I was a kid. The needle however, for Novocaine, is still HUGE!

Surprises on our Trip to Thailand and Cambodia

Right when we returned from our trip I made a list of things that surprised me on the trip. In no particular order here they are:

You can use the American dollar in Cambodia, in fact it is preferred I think. You get Cambodian notes for change though.

Thailand really does have an incredible service culture. The hands together, Y-ing, gesture is so genuine and is such a part of their culture. In Bangkok, a group of Thais met each other at the luggage carousel, and I could not believe how ingrained it was to greet each other with the Y-ing. Everyone who served us had to have this as a greeting and a departure gesture. They truly, genuinely want to serve you.

I was surprised at how much of the food was accessible to us, in that we did not really have to search for something to eat. As I said in a prior post, we did not follow all the rules of the travel clinic, but even at the road side stand that we stopped at during our tours of Siem Reap, the food was very accessible.

There were guards at the hotel in Bangkok, right at the end of the drive. My first reaction was "Why do there need to be guards?" I am still wondering.

The drivers in Siem Reap are crazy. There is no yielding or merging or even slowing down to get into traffic. Because the other drivers expect this, it does not seem to be a problem. Traffic can be coming at you on either side because someone is getting into traffic, or leaving traffic on the other side of the road.

The only negative of the trip was the scam at the Grand Palace. In the end, we did not get scammed but they tried really hard. We were told by an official looking ARMY person that the temple was closed for the Thais to pray for the New Year. It being December 30th, this seemed possible. The Palace was open though, just two gates down the road. We had a long conversation about this, that night at dinnner. Bee's point, that "He was able to feed his child by participating in this scam, really got me." I hate to be taken advantage of, or for someone to behave in what in my mind is "unethical". I guess the GRAND PALACE SCAMS are such a part of their culture, that they might not even be unethical.

The Siem Reap airport is so casual. We walked across the tarmac into the immigration area with no noticeable guards. It was a peek into prior to 911 airports.

Temples - in Chiang Mai, I did not expect that the temples we were visiting would be "working" temples. Practicing buddhists were stopping by on their way to work, at lunch, or way home from work to give their merits or their alms to the monks. They are old buildings and are museum quality, AND they are practicing temples.

Tipping really is not done in either country. The paradox for me here is, in the US, where the cost of living is so much higher and in many cases the service employees make 100 times more than in Thailand or Cambodia, tipping is expected. In Thailand and Cambodia, they do not expect to be tipped and it is a minimal tip if any. My Western mind is still dealing with this paradox.

Those were the big surprises or the front of mind surprises. These western eyes took in a lot of the Asian culture that we experienced and I am sure I missed a lot too because of my Western lenses.

2009 - Past Christmas memories

As I sit here at Coniston, on the 19th of December, we are not in traffic to the mall or madly wrapping, or working on our annual Christmas letter/collage (although we may get around to that this year before Christmas, and might wait until after to send it this year) I have spent a large part of this Saturday morning thinking about many of our/my past Christmas adventures.

Early memories were in Colorado, when it was magical that things appeared under the tree that I really wanted. One travel Christmas was to San Francisco where we shared Christmas on Yurba Buena Island with my grandparents and cousins, and aunt and uncle. That was the first time that playing charades on Christmas night, which was a tradition of my paternal grandparents, became a wonderful tradition and memory. I was describing this recently to a group of gathered family members. As I remember it, the entire house was up for grabs for props and costumes. It was no small game of guessing words, but rather one act plays to convey a single 4 letter word sometimes.

We had charades a few times in our first Brandon Vt house where one-third of our living room became the stage and the other two-thirds were the audience. Mom and Dad worked so hard to make that magical trip down the stairs to see the tree and presents from Santa. The oldest two kids always prepared coffee for Mom and Dad to wake them up. As a parent I now realize why they were so exhausted. We argued almost every year about whether the oldest kid or youngest kid was first in line. I think it was the youngest.

After opening Santa presents and stockings (hand made by Grandma Katie, and I still make this pattern for family members), we all stayed in our spanking new Christmas PJs for as much of the day as possible. We always had eggs benedict for breakfast. EGGS BENEDICT FOR 9+ people, many of them male in gender who could eat 3 or 4. How did we ever pull that off? Both my kids see eggs benedict as part of the Christmas morning routine, as evidenced by two years ago at Chris and Meg's we had it, and Bethany asking if we are bringing eggs benedict ingredients with us to Thailand this year.

In retrospect those were the Hallmark Christmass. They were magical and contribute to what I think is important in Christmas today, and this year. My two favorite memories of my kids on Christmas are: Chris getting 3 train sets one year, and my father down on the floor with him playing with the Brio one. The negative of that picture is lost somewhere, but Chris has the hard copy and I have the vivid memory. The one for Bee straddles two years. She kept saying that she wanted Pongo from 101 Dalmations. On Christmas Eve she wrote in her letter that she wanted Pongo and Perdita. We looked at each other with that UT OH look. Christmas morning her first words in the form of a question were "Where's Perdita?" Perdita came the next year.

I am thinking so much about "the ghost of Christmas past" because this year is going to be very untraditional. We won't have time to put up and enjoy a tree, since we are leaving on the evening of the 23rd to travel to Thailand to spend Christmas 2009 with Bee. That is most of our Christmas and what a present this is! We will hopefully make it to spend 3 hours of the 25th with her. We are also celebrating with Chris and Meg today at Coniston.

We have travelled a few times on Christmas to spend Christmas with English or overseas American family, so travel during this time of year is not unfamiliar. One year our plumbing backed up on the 25th, we had to get an emergency plumber to fix it, and we left late in the day to travel to England. That was pretty funny in retrospect. Bee, Murg and I also travelled to Burlington VT one year to celebrate with Chris on Christmas Day, after having the early morning Christmas with Bee in Lexington.

This feels rambling at this point. . . so,

This will be a fabulous year, a trip and a Christmas to remember. They have evolved over the years and the core important parts remain, family, magic, travels, and festivals of lights. Notice what is missing, most everything commercial, except maybe this year the plane flights.

Memorial Day 2009

Growing up, I did not really associate Memorial Day with my grandfather, but in the last few years, in a more contemplative mood, I spend a lot of the day thinking about him. He died in WWII, in a plane crash in Alaska, where he served in the Navy Reserve. I never knew him but have heard lots of stories from Mom about him.

Today, I regret that I never knew Grampa Joe. I am so appreciative that he served our country and I feel badly for my Mom that she lost her father at such a young age. It was the last patriotic war, in my mind anyway.

My cousins who serve in Iraq now; I appreciate them and their wounds that will last forever. I appreciate R, J's brother who served in Iraq twice.

I think about the Vietnam Veteran's Wall in DC, one of the most moving monuments.

I have been very contemplative today, about all of this. I am glad we take a day, every year to remember those who served, and to appreciate those currently serving. I used to think that the VFW at the end of our street, would lose membership, but with the Iraq war producing many new veterans every day, I guess not.