Missing my babies

On Saturday, Liana was invited to spend the day with her best friend and Fred was showing property, so Arielle and I had time to ourselves. Girls Day Out! First, we went to the church bazaar across the street from our house. Arielle is such a bargain hunter. Her best deal ever was an American Girl doll she found several years ago for a dollar. I don't know if we'll ever beat that. But this day she found a set of the old Polly Pocket toys that sell on ebay for $25 to $30. Again, this one was a dollar. She also found a Josh Grobin Christmas CD and a picture book of Civil War battlefields. She has an eye for these things. We later went to Walmart and then food shopping. Not special in itself, but I so much enjoyed just spending time with Arielle.

Eleven, almost twelve, Arielle is approaching my height. She is a delightful age, but maybe it isn't just age, it is the way she is. She has such a level personality, not swinging up and down. She is calm and gracious, quiet and thoughtful, but out-spoken and opinionated. She's always seemed wise beyond her years. I was proud to introduce her to an old acquaintance at the bazaar. My daughter, my friend, my joy.

Later in the day Arielle got out scrapbooks from long ago. I teased her that she must miss her sister so much that she wanted to look at pictures of her. I used to be meticulous in creating the photo albums, complete with captions and narratives. But I haven't even looked at them in a long time. This day, the pictures stirred in me the feelings I had for my baby girls, my precious little ones, with their sweet faces and chubby bodies. "Remember this?" Arielle would point to one. Yes, I remember. How could I ever forget?

When Liana came home I was telling my friend about grieving for my babies and how sad it was to look at the pictures and realize they are gone. My wise friend reminded me, "Yes, but look at what you have now!"

Of course. It's the way of life. I have Arielle on the verge of womanhood, a girl after my own heart. We prefer so many of the same things, and we're alike in a lot of ways, except I'm lacking her good qualities and she's doesn't have my bad ones! Then my Liana, my little sprite, my fireball, who adds the spice to our family. She keeps me hopping, but I am in awe of her creative spirit and I watch eagerly to see where it may take her. Yes, look what I have now!

Yet my heart is tinged with sadness. These two girls I have now will also soon be gone. Gone the way of my sons, grown with their own lives, apart from mine. The watercolor ponies on my refrigerator rode away. (Remember that song? It used to bring me to tears when my boys were little.)

But I can't let my mind go there now. I need to remember to live in the moment of each day, in the present. I am grateful that at least for today, my girls are here with me. Right now they are asleep in their beds, and right now I can prepare their breakfast and then wake them with a song and a kiss. I am blessed!

Word for the day

I love you, O Lord, my strength.

The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer,

my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge,

my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

I call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised,

and I am saved from my enemies.

Psalm 18:1-3

Quilts!

My friend invited me to attend a quilt exhibition held not far from our homes. I love seeing quilts and sewing quilts and learning about quilts, but I was also just glad to spend an afternoon with my friend. Arielle had a cold and didn't feel well, so she decided to stay home. (Unusual for her.) Liana was tired from our school day and also elected to stay home. (Typical for her.)

What an unbelievable display of the most beautiful quilts in the world! And I do mean world because included in the show was a traveling world quilt exhibit. These certainly aren't the kind of quilts that kids romp on and drag around the house. They are true works of art, absolutely stunning!

I knew the girls would have enjoyed this, so the next day Arielle felt better and Liana wasn't tired, so I took both of them. I told them they could vote for their favorites, as a prize would be awarded for the viewers' choice. They took pen and paper and were busy writing down their favorites. Arielle also wanted to photograph the ones she loved most. I asked a white-gloved attendant if we were permitted to take pictures and she said yes. The girls were drawn to the foreign quilts. They have such an interest in faraway places. We walked among the quilts for two hours before either of them mentioned heading home.

Arielle was inspired to make another quilt this winter. She made a small one of bright red and black Asian fabrics a couple of years ago, but she had gotten so bogged down doing the tedious machine quilting that I didn't think she'd ever want to make another. I want to encourage her interest so I allowed her to buy some fabric that caught her eye. It was a little discouraging to see the crowd at the show. The vast majority of people attending were older women. Who will continue the craft of quilting when we are all gone?

I will never make a quilt worthy of display, but I enjoy making practical, kid-friendly quilts. I finished piecing the top to Liana's over the summer. This picture was taken before the borders were added. After I find some good batting for it, I will begin my own winter project of doing the quilting. The girls and I like nothing better than to be downstairs sewing on a cold day with the fire in the wood stove crackling nearby.

Downtown

I am not a city girl. I don't remember even visiting a city until I was a teenager, unless my grandmother in San Diego actually lived in the city, but I think her home was more in the suburbs. I'll have to ask my mom.

When I was in 8th grade our school was on double sessions. That meant we started at noon and ended in the evening. Our bus driver would play the radio during the dark ride home and I remember Petula Clark singing,

"When you're alone and life is making you lonely, you can always go, downtown,
When you got worries all the noise and the hurry seem to help, I know, downtown,
Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city,
Linger on the sidewalks where the neon signs are pretty, how can you lose..."

You know the words. The city seemed so exciting and glamorous to me then. When I was in high school my best friend and I skipped school and rode a bus to the big city of St. Louis. I wasn't impressed. It was exciting to be on our own for a day, but the city was smelly with diesel and I still remember the awful lunch I had in a downtown cafeteria.

Since that time I've walked many big cities of the world--Madrid, Paris, Washington D.C., Guangzhou. More recently, the girls and I were invited to a birthday party in New York City and we all had a marvelous time. Big cities can be thrilling with the bustle of the crowds, the skyscrapers, the exotic food, and watching people who live an entirely different existence from ours. They ride taxis all day and have important jobs where men always wear suits and women don't even wobble in the highest of heels. But always in the shadow of the glitz is the poverty and crime. It makes me uneasy, at the same time sad and on guard.

We live near a big city now, but I never drive there. Occasionally we take the train. This year, for the first time in my life, I've seen why people love the city and choose to live there. That's because a friend of mine moved downtown. Twice this summer she invited us for a walking tour, shopping, and lunch. Finally, the city in my own area became more familiar to me, not a foreign, scary place. My friend is so comfortable there that she put me at ease.

Last week we met her at the subway station for a day at the aquarium. The girls and I were amazed by the variety of creatures God has created. We enjoyed the exhibits and also our lunch outdoors along the river, catching up with my friend and our families' news. In the afternoon she dropped us off at a corner in Chinatown. It's rare that the girls and I would be loose on the streets of the big city to do whatever we wanted! Arielle and Liana's big request: they wanted bubble tea. That's what they had last time were in the city with our friend. We wandered around looking into shops and then headed for the train station, the girls quiet on the way home as they considered our adventure. I watched the heavy traffic along the highway parallel to the tracks as we all enjoyed our relaxing ride.

I love the freedom of getting around without a car. I love the history behind our city and the generations of people who made it their home. I love the diversity of people of every race and ethnic group. Kind of like the aquarium, so many different kinds, all swimming together, and for the most, living peacefully with each other.

Carrots, anyone?

Harvesting root vegetables after a heavy rainfall is the easy way to do a difficult task. Fred and I went out to the garden early on a drizzly Saturday morning and pulled the last of the carrots from the mud. It rained so much I sank to my ankles in the muck. The carrots don't look very pretty, but they are quite tasty and so nutritious!

The growing season is about over. We have a few sad tomatoes, a couple of little eggplants and some brussel sprouts left, but that's about it.

Fred and I tore the tops off the carrots while we were still outside and then Fred washed them off with the hose. Arielle and I cut them and washed them several more times. I saved the tiny ones to eat raw and to keep handy, and all the rest I peeled and cut up for the freezer. We now have six quarts lined up next to the corn, green beans and tomatoes, put away to keep for soups and stews this winter. I'm on the lookout for good carrot recipes.

We pulled the last of the beets a couple of weeks ago. We plant the beets for Fred. His Polish mom made beet soup when he was growing up and he loves it. I've tried her recipe and don't like it too much. But I found another GREAT recipe that even Arielle and I both liked, and we're not even beet-lovers. It's too good not to share:

Borscht

4 cups water or beef broth

1 pound good beef stew meat

6 small or 3 large fresh beets, peeled and sliced in strips

1 large onion, chopped

3 potatoes, peeled and chopped

4 cups chopped cabbage

1/2 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. pepper

1 T. plus 1 tsp. vinegar

1/2 tsp. dry dillweed

sour cream

Brown the onions and beef and put in a big pot, along with the beets. Add water or broth and cook covered until beef and beets are nearly tender, about an hour or so. Add potatoes to the pot, cover and cook another half hour. Add the cabbage, vinegar and seasonings. Cook covered another half hour. Top with a dollop of sour cream after it is served into bowls. Good winter soup! I love having good soups in mind when it's cold and dreary outside.

"Let our sons in their youth be as grown-up plants, and our daughters as corner pillars fashioned as for a palace, let our garners be full, furnishing every kind of produce..." Psalm 144:12, 13.

Labor Day

I am a week behind on things I would like to write. If I don't have early morning time, forget it. But the girls' school work is top priority. We did have a fun holiday weekend. We attempted another bike trail and this time Marissa went with us.

This trail was safer but much more strenuous. We climbed steep hills huffing and puffing and we flew down curvy slopes. I was very proud of the little girls. No one fell and they both kept up.

At one point the path led us into an area very familiar to us in earlier times. Fred and I had taken our big kids to play in this wildlife refuge years ago when they were the age of Arielle and Liana now. We came here often because we lived in a development right next to the park. We hadn't been back here in the woods in a long time and were surprised to see paved bike roadways where before there were just dirt foot paths. Suddenly we were all alone. The trail was so steep I guess most cyclists avoid it. Marissa and I kept pointing and saying, "Remember that?" We found a drop-off through dense vegetation where we once slid down on our bottoms, covering our clothes with mud and our hair with dry leaves. (I can't believe I really did that, or why. Wasn't I worried about poison ivy?) I looked over the edge down into the hole and was amazed at my foolish younger self. What fun we had though! Funny though, Arielle and Liana could never be enticed to do that.

We found the old path where Fred and Marissa used to race each other, Marissa trying hard to beat her old man. And then there was the place we once made a fort in the woods with Jon, Anthony and Marissa. We played some kind of pursuit game there, I remember. There was the grassy field where deer slept at night, and I guess still do, and where we once found our lost cat after he was missing for days. Later on, I got off my bike and looked through the overgrown brush to the apartment building where we used to live. Fred asked, "Going back in time?" Yes...but the present is so much better. It's not good to look too long at the past.

We were all in a thoughtful mood as we rode our bikes back to the car. I noticed people gathering in the pavillion. It looked like it was set up for a wedding reception. The last time we were in that pavillion was in February for the memorial service for our hometown soldier. Today the park is green and lush and warm. It's hard to believe it was once a place of sorrow and tears.

As we approached the parking lot, we heard music. Three people were singing, one playing a guitar. Their voices clear and sure sang, "Come thou fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing thy grace, streams of mercy never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise..." God's hand was on us this day, the beautiful music a gentle reminder of his constant presence, in times of heartbreak and also on a perfect day like this.

Sleepover

Damien's band had a show Saturday night and so Jon and Chrissy could go, Lana came for a sleepover. Years ago I would have loved to sit in a smoky bar and watch my son all fired up on the drums. We have gone to see him only once, I'm ashamed to say. He's fantastic! Naturally talented with no drum lessons ever. But the girls can't go to bars or stay up late, and the last time we went I got a severe asthma attack from the smoke. So I do my part by babysitting so Jon can go and see his brother play.

We love when Lana is here. She and Liana go off to their fantasy world of play. Arielle mothers Lana, making sure her teeth are brushed and pjs are on, and Grandma gives Lana strawberry ice cream and makes her pancakes and lets her know how special she is to us.

This time all three girls wanted to sleep in the living room. So we made a big bed on the floor. I asked if they would like me to read a book before bedtime, but Lana and Liana were so into their play they didn't want to stop for a boring old story. They had taken last year's Easter baskets and turned them into homes for tiny stuffed animals. The baskets were complete with beds, pillows, blankets, food and toys for their pets.

I love to see this kind of creative play. Too bad Liana can't market the idea. It's like the old Polly Pockets on a larger scale. The two of them finally fell asleep, but the minute their eyes were open in the morning, they had their baskets out playing again.

I hope these three girls grow up close and become great friends when they are women. Lana is not their cousin (a niece) but they are like cousins. I never had cousins nearby when I was a child because my parents had no brothers or sisters, but I think it would have been a great fun!

In the moment

Time flies. Because that's such an overused cliche, it shows that many people have this experience. Of course time moves the same for everyone. But many of us feel we are rushing through life, especially people my age. When I was in high school and it was January, I sure didn't feel like time was flying. Maybe other people equally imprisoned by circumstances don't think it to be true either. But this has been bothering me for awhile. I look at my little girls growing up so quickly. It's frightening to think summer is over already, and this year is on it's way out!

When you're young you know you have a limited number of days on this earth, but there are just so many of them (you think) that you don't need to analyze this reality, and it's okay to waste some of these days. But I often think now about the finite number of years I have left and in the words of a song, "I don't want to miss a thing." I don't want to throw even one day away. So how do we put the brakes on a life careening ahead to its final destination?

I need to be in the moment. Not thinking about what is happening next week or that night or even the next hour. I tell myself to slow down! I practiced this on Friday. I am a task-doer. I have things to do and all day long I do them. Always thinking about the next task and how to efficiently complete it. I miss so much that way. My kids will remember me as busy, busy, busy, always doing. So last Friday, this is what we tried instead:

I sat next to Arielle at the computer while she did math and instead of looking ahead to see how many more problems she had left so we could get on to the next task, I enjoyed watching her work. What a gift to have my daughter beside me, helping her grasp the concepts and work the problems. I took the moment, pondered it, held on to it.

We walked to the mailbox and I noticed the the cool breeze that has come with September and what a perfectly heavenly day it was, sunny, with the late summer chorus of cicadas. On the back porch I found a perfectly whole, dead cricket, a female with an ovipositor, and I brought it inside to show Liana since she is studying insects and had just learned about the ovipositor!

Later, Marissa came over and I had laundry to fold and dishes to wash, but I just sat at the table with her and the girls and talked. I made her some gazpacho to try but mostly we did nothing but enjoy the evening. (I feel like I'm becoming my mother. She loves to sit and talk and, come to think of it, she used to be so busy too. But she has learned to slow down.)

Liana set up a Polly Pocket town and she wanted to show me who lived where and what each little house was for. These toys are very old. Marissa had given Liana her childhood collection. I didn't look for a way out of the doll talk but engaged in it. Liana wondered why there were no black haired dolls and I couldn't adequately answer that. (Toy companies weren't concerned about political correctness back then.)

At night I got both girls to bed, an accomplishment no matter how old your kids are, and then I noticed there was a full moon with a very bright star next to it. I went on-line to see what that "star" was. It was Jupiter! So I got the girls back out of bed so we could look outside at God's wonders.

One day of being in the moment. Not rushing, just holding and examining the treasures of life. The past is full of regret, best left alone. The future is uncertain for us all. But we have right now and this was a perfect day. I need something to remind me to stop when I'm tempted to DO rather than just to BE.

Bike hike

Beautiful weather brought us out to the bike trails again! We're adventurers so we decided to go a new route along a different river. Arielle and I led the way with Fred following (slowly) behind Liana. I wish I hadn't forgotten my camera. The rains over the weekend made the river rise and it rushes by the wildflowers along the banks. Arielle and I get so far ahead we can't see Fred and Liana and we have to stop and wait for them. After a long wait at one point we find out they both had fallen! I'm glad I didn't see it. Liana is still a little shakey on her bike and it makes me nervous.

On this trip we had to ride a short distance on a real road--not good. There are real cars on this road. Then we traveled along a narrow path with several rude groups of "real" cyclists. These are the ones with racing bikes wearing silky biking outfits and fancy helmets who zip by so closely you are practically shoved aside or who approach you with three or four riders abreast on the path. So again, you are shoved aside.

So our little family is just cycling along at a slow speed trying to enjoy the scenery, and then the scenery becomes scary! On our left is a tall slice of mountain and on our right, where we are traveling, is a steep drop-off down a rocky cliff with the river flowing many feet below. Arielle and I ride along, with me warning her to stay away from the slope, which is difficult to do with the cyclists mentioned above on the trail with us.

My two girls are the Squabble Queens. You would think they can't stand to be near each other at times, always fussing and fuming. Liana is famous for her tears of anguish and Arielle is noted for the mean faces she gives Liana. Arielle is, in general, usually annoyed with her little sister, and Liana is tormented by the injustice dealt her having a bossy older sister. But today during our biking trip, I notice Arielle's concern for Liana. Time and again she looks backwards to see if she can see Liana coming. If she can, Arielle says, "Mom, she is too close to the edge." I assure her Daddy is watching Liana. Again she says, "Liana's bike is wobbling back and forth. This isn't safe for her." I am thinking the same thing. Surely Fred will realize this is true. Arielle and I pull over and wait.

Fred and Liana approach us and I express my concerns. Fred would usually say I worry too much, but this time he agrees. This is not the bike path for an inexperienced rider. If Liana slipped, she and her bike would be falling headlong into the river. To my great relief, we go back the way we came, this time the mountain at our side.

I am proud of Arielle and her mothering instincts. She loves her sister after all.

Fabulous Gazpacho!

Our summer garden is dying down and we are harvesting the last of the vegetables. Right now we have a lot of tomatoes and cucumbers so I decided to try Spanish gazpacho. I've never eaten it, even when I lived in Spain. This soup is an explosion of flavor! I found a simple recipe:

3 large fresh tomatoes, peeled and chopped

1/2 large cucumber, seeded and chopped

1/2 red pepper, chopped

1/2 red onion, chopped

1 clove garlic, chopped

3 T. rice vinegar (or wine vinegar)

1 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. pepper

2 T. olive oil

Place all ingredients in blender or food processor. Process, but don't puree. Eat cold. So good and so good for you! What a great dish on a hot and humid summer night.

Friends, I have not shared our tomatoes with you like I would have liked. They just didn't look very nice. They tasted good but were full of holes and squirrel bites. I would have been ashamed to give them to anyone.

Grand finale

By the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea...

You and I, you and I, oh, how happy we'll be!

Summer is officially over in our house with the start of school today. But we ended it with a bang! Fred suddenly decided we should all go to the shore for one night. We'd thought we wouldn't be able to take our shore trip at all this year with Fred being in school, but he surprised us. Amazingly, we even found a vacancy, not at our usual spot at such late notice, but one not far down the street.

As we crossed the bridge over the bay to our island getaway, the girls screamed with excitement. They rolled down the windows to sniff the sea air. We stopped for lunch where we always go, and the girls were even more thrilled. They like to do everything just the same as we have done every year since they were babies. They don't want to vary the routine one bit. I picture them as women with their own children stopping at the same restaurant on their way to the beach. We drove to find our motel and Fred checked us in and then came out with another surprise. He booked two night instead of one!

By coincidence, good friends of ours were heading to the shore at the very same time for a day trip. We played together with them in the sun and sand. The day was hot and humid, unlike our usual trip in September, so we spent more time in the water, which was warm as a bath. The girls found all kinds of sea creatures and dug big holes. Arielle, older every year, ventures further and further into the surf. Not being a swimmer, the ocean is scary to me. But Fred was with her, so I shouldn't have been nervous. Liana still stays with me. We hold hands and jump the smaller waves. But they are powerful this day, nearly knocking us down.

We ate a delicious seafood dinner with our friends before they headed off late that evening. Sandy, sticky girls had showers and were quickly asleep. We headed out early to the beach again the next day. The Storm Tracker truck from our local news station was the first sign that something had changed. The sunlight still glittered brightly across the ocean, but the water was cold and the waves pounded in. The ocean was churning, ominous, and the wind was sharp. Liana didn't want to go in the water at all. Hurricane Bill was out in the Atlantic, coming closer.

Fred and Arielle let the waves beat them up again. Lifeguards were watching closely, and I was too. I couldn't relax with a book like usual. All that talk about rip currents ran through my mind. Later, all four of us took a peaceful walk at the water's edge far down the coastline. Then my heart settled like it always does at the shore. Amidst the roar of the waves drowning out every noise except for the laugh of the gulls, it seemed we were alone with God. The ocean beckons to me, despite my fear of it. I love being here with my family. I asked the girls, "Where would you rather be?" They said, "Nowhere!" Then they said, "Grandma's?"

Oh, the great mountains where my mother lives calls to us too. In both these places, God seems closer. Maybe it's the big-ness, the grandeur and the power of that huge ocean and those magnificent mountains. The details of daily life become trivial. We contemplate our small-ness in the universe and stand in awe of creation.

"Here is the sea, great and wide, which teems with creatures innumerable, living things both small and great...may the glory of the Lord endure forever; may the Lord rejoice in his works, who looks on the earth and it trembles, who touches the mountains and they smoke! I will sing to the Lord as long as I live, I will sing praises to my God while I have being." (Psalm 104)

We woke Saturday morning to rain and an even louder crashing of the waves. The only people in the water were the surfers. As we gazed across the sand to say good-bye to the ocean, we were treated to a giant rainbow, one leg in the sea, and the other crossing the island to the west, out of sight. Time to go back home. Summer is over.

A day in the park

This has to be one of the most fun city parks of all! This picture shows only one small part of it. It is full of towering wooden structures the kids can climb up and down in, along with rope ladders, hideaways, and suspended bridges. The play area is fenced with only one way in and out, so a parent can easily know where her children are. A couple of years ago the girls enjoyed playing here in the biggest sand pit I've ever seen. Surrounding the playground are beautiful shade trees with picnic tables where we had lunch. We spent the whole day here yesterday, and even with kids ages 9 to 14, they didn't tire of it and I only got them to leave without complaint by promising them ice cream.

Kelsey and Seth will go back to Minnesota in a week. We wanted at least one more day with them to remind them they have family back home who love them and will miss them. We're building memories.

Storm

Our beloved maples

We've had a lot of rain and fierce storms this year. And we have lots of tall, ancient trees in our yard, a couple of them battling an ant infestation. So I guess it was only a matter of time before lightening would strike and bring a limb down. A huge branch broke off the ash in the back, struck the shed roof and put a hole in it. About a month later, a branch broke off the maple in our front yard, taking the mailbox out. Fred forbid the girls to play on their swingset anymore, worried a falling branch would take them out! Time to call for the very expensive tree service.

Yesterday a whole crew of men arrived to remove the two offending trees and trim up the others. I took a few pictures and then the girls and I left, not fully trusting that these guys would not let the tree fall onto the house.

We returned to find the ugly stump and our yard bare. This tree was like an old friend, our towering maple that gave us cool shade in the summer and dropped a carpet of gold in the autumn. I will miss this tree. We could always plant another, of course. More new beginnings. I always resist change.

4-H Fair

We just spent three days at the 4-H Fair. My girls just can't get enough. This is the highlight of their summer. What simple, low-tech, good family fun! The first day we had to work, the responsibility and duty of belonging to one of the 4-H clubs. The second day we brought my granddaughter Lana with us. She was just as excited to be here as my daughters. She loved everything we did and everything we saw. She was especially fascinated with the giant cow, luring the people in from the road outside.

Lana is usually a shy little girl, so we were in shock when she wanted to join the dance competition under the tent. My girls couldn't even be persuaded to join her until some of their friends arrived. Here is Arielle teaching Lana to do the "Cotton-Eyed Joe."

After awhile the music got too loud for even the best dancers.

But here is what we came for--the fabric sale. Hundreds of hours were needed to pull this thing off. The proceeds are what sustains our club.

And what a thrill for the kids to see their sewing projects on display!

A day with the grandkids

Kelsey, Laci and Arielle
The Happy Crew

Sisters

I had the privilege of spending the day at my son's house. My older grandchildren Kelsey and Seth are here for the summer. We were so glad to have more time with them before they return to Minnesota. Arielle adores Kelsey. They do a lot of "girl talk." Seth is at that wonderful age for a boy--12. I remember my own sons at that age. They are personable and talkative and still well... boys. Not yet going through the stepping stones to manhood that can be so exasperating. Our little Seth is still affectionate and sweet, and he gives the best hugs ever.

Liana enjoyed playing with 4-year-old Mattie all day, and I loved holding and feeding and caring for my youngest grandchild, Laci. She is 15-months-old and is trying so hard to communicate in words. I remember Arielle at that age, stringing words together to get her baby ideas across.

We had a pleasant day without fighting (well, not much anyway) or tears. The baby never even cried once. I had trouble getting them to smile for a group shot though!

I am so blessed to be related to these precious children.

Cars

As a disclaimer, I am not a "car person." I don't notice cars, I don't think about cars or wish for a particular car. I just like a car to get me where I'm going. But the cars I've had make me think back on different stages of my life.

I learned to drive on a '58 Buick Special, my mother's car. But I had no attachment to it, and for years after I was car-less. My first car that was my very own was an old three tone '65 Ford Fairlane. The three colors were red, white and primer. I drove it into the city every day when I was in nursing school and I used to say it ran on the Spirit of God because every day that car started up was a miracle.

Then there was my '79 blue Ford Pinto. It was new and fabulous. I learned to drive a stick-shift with it. Then we learned the gas tank might explode and we traded it in for a used Dodge Aries. This car transported Cub Scouts and soccer players. Sweaty boys were always piled in it and we traveled many miles and many years.

When Fred and I got married we bought a Suburu Outback. It was a fun car, small and zippy. My baby Arielle rode in it, strapped in her carseat. When Liana came home we bought a new 2001 Ford Windstar van. I didn't want to be a van mom! But at the time we were driving back and forth across the country and needed something roomy and comfortable. I grew to love my van. I took my girls to Chinese school in it, and to dance classes and church and the beach. We packed in other people's kids and our big kids and our friends. It held all four of our bikes and we could put the seats down and load furniture and lumber or just about anything we needed to cart around.

On Monday Fred told me we should take advantage of the Cash for Clunkers rebate. It was supposed to be the very last day of the program. The van has been costing us money in repairs and it was a big gas-guzzler. It's trade-in value was next to nothing. But, Fred, my van! The girls and I love our van.

So we headed to the dealership. We found the smallest, cheapest car. The salesman asked what color we wanted. The girls and I said, "Anything but red." I'm not a flashy person. Then he said red was the only color he had that night. We test drove this tiny, cute car and it felt right. Solid, bigger inside than it appears outside.

Two hours later we were told we were missing a piece of documentation. We took a 40 minute drive home and back to retrieve it. Another hour and we are told those papers still weren't good enough. We went home without the car. No deal. The salesman said he would call if the Senate voted to extend the program. I didn't really want a new car, but now I was disappointed.

The next day the salesman called. The dealership was allowing one more day for the rebate. We cleaned out our much-loved van, finding mementos of long ago, and headed back out. Another two hours and we drove off the lot in a 2009 Honda Fit. Instead of being joyful, I was in tears. My van! What have we done? Such ambivalence! What's wrong with me?

I realize the sadness is because my girls are growing up. It's the end of an era. We can't load this car with the big wagon the girls used to ride in on the boardwalk. We're not transporting strollers and carseats anymore. If we drive south, we'll take Fred's car. I will eventually embrace this new stage of life. Cut-back, down-size, simplify.

What is this??

I haven't seen this strange thing in our yard for a couple of years. But today there were several. They are about 6 inches tall, bright orange and the tips look like they have been dipped in chocolate syrup. For some reason they attract large flies. These things crop up overnight and by afternoon they totally disappear. I think they must be some sort of alien creature. Weird and scary to have in your yard. Click on the picture to get a good view.

Give up? I just searched to find the answer. Great website-www.mushroomexpert.com. These things are stinkhorn mushrooms, also known as mutinous caninus. I don't think I would eat one or even touch one, but the mushroom guy says they are not dangerous. The brown chocolate tip is actually a slime that carries the mushroom's spores. It gives off a four odor that attracts flies. The flies slurp up the slime, ingesting the spores and also get the spores on their feet. They carry them off to other locations and that's how the fungus reproduces. Fascinating, isn't it?

Good Old Summertime

Picnic in the Park

Flying in the Backyard


Sidewalk Chalk


Girlfriends

More Girlfriends

Close your eyes and think back to summer when you were a child. What images, smells, and feelings come to mind? Growing up in Arizona, I think first of all--HOT. The heat, the stifling heat that silenced the world. Even the birds were quiet. But we kids did not mind the heat. I think of the scorching sidewalk that burned our feet, and the shade of the trees in the front yard that provided a refuge from the burning sun. We corraled grasshoppers by making a fence with our legs and pretended they were pets. I don't know what kind of docile critters those were because our grasshoppers here would jump away from such childish nonsense. I remember flip-flops (we called them thongs) that were studded with huge thorns after we came in from the yard. I think of icy red kool-aid and the sound of our cooler pumping damp, cold air into our house and the smooth, cool linoleum floors where my sister and I played. I loved summer. I wish I could slow down and love it again. I am trying to fill the girls' days with activities and friends, but somehow it just makes life crazy. Maybe I need to just do what my mom did--nothing, except give us freedom to explore and time to daydream. We amused ourselves and had loads of fun.

North vs. South

Where do your sentiments lie? Are you a Northerner or a Southerner? Are you citified or countrified? Maybe the test is in how you like your green beans. Actually, maybe the deciding factor is whether you call them green beans or string beans.

Our garden is bountiful this year! Lots of rain has made the vegetation lush and our little piece of the earth is producing way more than we can eat. Come on over! We're happy to share!

So anyway, we have lots of green beans. That's what we call them in Pennsylvania. I'm always looking for recipes to use them to tempt Fred to eat more than he does. The girls and I need no coaxing. Here is my favorite recipe:

Take stems off beans. Rinse off the dirt. (No pesticides to worry about.) Steam in water about 9 minutes. Add a little butter. Fantastic! Sometimes we sprinkle on a little Parmesan cheese and maybe serve it with hot rice.

Last year I came across a southern, country-style recipe and we all liked it. My friend also said she prepares them in a similar way: Fry up a pound of bacon til crisp. When cool, crumble the bacon. Take 1/4 cup of the bacon fat and put in a pot. Stir in a mess of beans, cleaned and prepared. Add 2 cups of chicken broth and some garlic salt and pepper. Cover and simmer about 30 minutes. Then add some quartered red potatoes and a chopped onion. Cook another 30 minutes. Then stir in the bacon. Now the original recipe calls for adding in a stick of butter at this point. What?! There is plenty of grease already in this dish. So I leave that out. This is mighty good anyway. So I'm a northern girl with southern roots, but I lean toward less cooking of my vegetables and using less fat.

My two daughters have their own favorite way with beans. They walk through the rows of bean plants, barefoot preferably, snapping off a slender pod and popping it into their mouths. The only cooking done is by the warmth of the summer sun.

How do you like your beans?

Wedding weekend, Part 4

Here are the final reflections on our family wedding. We arrived at the empty reception hall and set about preparing it to receive the guests. We set out the cake, cleared the banquet table, lit the candles, spread fresh pink rose petals on the other tables, and dimmed the lights. The place looked festive! People started arriving and then Helen came with the food. What a worker she is! In no time at all, thanks to her expertise, the food was ready to serve. I enjoyed serving the delicious food to the guests. I got to see the people close up and interact with each one a little.

The rest of the evening flew by. Helen and I had a quick meal together, but otherwise I didn't seem to have a chance to talk with anyone, even my husband. Fred and Helen loaded the car and returned all the equipment.

The one highlight of the rest of the evening was dancing with my son. He chose a Marc Cohn song, "The Things We've Handed Down".

Will you laugh just like your mother
Will you sigh like your old man
Will some things skip a generation
Like I've heard they often can...

It's hard to let go of the baby of the family. Jon was the youngest of the boys. He always resented that we babied him and had trouble accepting the fact that he was a grown-up. But he surely is. He is mature and responsible and works hard to take care of his family. As we dance I remember other songs and other occasions when I danced with Jon. When he was a newborn baby, right before Christmas, I think of swaying with him in my arms, singing John Denver's "A Baby Just Like You". But I changed the words to sing, "Merry Christmas, little Jonathan, Merry Christmas everyone..." Then years later, influenced by our country-western days on the plains of Oklahoma, I would gather my little boy in my arms and dance through the house singing along with Alabama's "Mountain Music." Jon would squeal with laughter and I would be out-of-breath with our lively dance moves. By the time our dance tonight ends, I am in tears.

It's a Marc Cohn night. Jon and Chrissy dance to "True Companion." They look so tender together, so in love, as the music plays.

"I've got my heart set on our wedding day
I've got this vision of a girl in white
Made my decision that it's you all right..."

Then later, the only time the dance floor is filled is when "Silver Thunderbird" is played. All eight of our kids together. I snap pictures of them all.

Finally, it's over. My feet hurt. We're all exhausted. It's a long drive home on dark and windy roads because we get lost. Rain had threatened all day and now we see lightening bolts pierce the black sky. At the moment we walk through the door of our house, the rain comes down hard.