Stargazer

Mount Rushmore

I've never been to Mount Rushmore and honestly have no desire to visit, but the topic came up when I was on my walk. Suddenly a passing convertible slowed and pulled over and I recognized one of my former colleagues in the driver's seat. Steve's initials are SOB and he DID sometimes fit that description, but he's mellowed over the 40 years I've known him. He caught me up on more bad health news among our friends: worsening Parkinsons in a well-respected P.E. teacher and basketball coach, several colleagues now in wheelchairs or being treated for Stage 4 cancer, and a history teacher whose stroke has much diminished his speech and memory. The worst was our beloved English teacher Dave who chose to fight his cancer by having a surgery that will never allow him to speak, eat or drink again. As SOB said, "If there were a Mount Rushmore for our school, these people would be on it." He was distraught. He ended our conversation on a strange note, "Margaret, time has been very kind to you." Since I haven't been feeling that way lately, it was uplifting to hear. Frankly, I've let myself go a bit and have no real desire or ambition to whip myself back into shape. :(

Take for example this luscious original creation of my Older Daughter's, served last night for the dinner I was fortuitously invited to. It's a savory peach and goat cheese galette with roasted heirloom tomato sauce and caramelized shallots. I'm telling you...it was GOURMET. I could have eaten just one piece, but instead I had two. Hey, at least I didn't eat the whole thing... (trying to be positive here)

Due to Younger Daughter's nagging concern over my vertigo episode, I dragged out my blood pressure machine, exchanged the ancient batteries for new ones, and have been monitoring my b/p. So far, the numbers have been decent, probably in part because of my 5 milligrams of Bisoprolol. Thank you, Medical Science!

Older Daughter has these gorgeous dahlias at her place; she thought they were peppers, then they bloomed into this delightful surprise. They remind me of a sunset. After dinner we actually went on a sunset walk where we got lots of sky color, views of the water and Narrows Bridges and even a patch of wild blackberries. I'm grateful that this day, which started on a somber note, ended on an idyllic one. 

For Crying Out Loud

I started teaching in 1980-1981 which makes me as "old as dirt." Since it's summertime, I've been seeing Facebook high school reunion photos from some of my first years of teaching and have been flummoxed because THOSE STUDENTS LOOK ANCIENT. Then I realized in complete shock that they're nearly my age! Gulp. However, some look like they're 50 whereas others seem like they must be in their 80s. I thought one person's wife was his mother. Good grief. And when I saw the list of people who had been lost in each class and recognized the names of former students or people I was connected with, I was heartbroken. Tom Geppert--such a sweet and gentle giant, dead at 47. I wonder what happened to Tommy LeSchack, gone at 38 years old. Brenda Lord, the sister of a friend, was killed in a car accident in her 20s. I know that Pamela Watts died of cancer at 50 since she was the wife of my ex-boyfriend, Henry. I've spent the day in a bit of a funk. 

I did some therapeutic scone baking although when I tried to make them bigger, they ended up looking like they'd been mauled by a wild animal. There was actually a creature after them...

Hint: she's small, black, furry and frustrated that the scones are now closed up in the den. 

The county tried to eradicate the blackberries, yet many of my choice picking spots are still there. It's just harder to get to the best berries. Thankfully, I only incurred minor injuries!

It's unfathomable to me how much my Little Guy has grown in only ONE year. But something that hasn't changed is his love of blackberries fresh from Mémé's neighborhood or his smirk about not sharing very many of them with the rest of us. ;)

Moments

Grandson enjoyed the airplanes here and loved the story I told him about his aunt (younger daughter) being on a plane to Hawaii (a BIG PLANE) that got hit by lightning and had to turn around to Seattle. He requested the story at least five times! The little airport was very busy with take offs, even of a jet. What I adored the most was when he first caught sight of me in the parking lot. His dad was holding him, but he wanted down, his face beaming. "MEME, MEME!" Since there were no cars around, his daddy put him down and he rushed across the lot and into my arms for a big hug and kiss. It was SO touching, especially since I had almost missed this moment. While I was getting ready for the lunch in Gig Harbor, I went into the laundry room and suddenly felt like I was on a ship in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Were we having an earthquake? I felt myself rolling and staggering; I would have fallen down if I hadn't grabbed the washer. Afterward, I was still a little dizzy and quite nauseated. All the way out to the restaurant with John, I fought the queasiness, sipping my water and hanging my head out the window like a dog. Eventually, the sicky moments passed and I felt relatively normal. What caused it? Will it come back? I have no answers for that. I hope not...

In a random moment, John suggested that we all head down to a nearby beach front park to see the bridges after lunch. He has great ideas, doesn't he?

Grandson explored the sand, the rocks and the salt water. He insisted that I take off my shoes and socks to play in the water with him. Brrrr, cold. And walking on those rocks barefoot was NOT fun! 

He was entranced with the little crabs we found for him under the rocks, holding them gently in his hands and letting them crawl on him until they dropped off. Such are the small joys of life with a toddler who is discovering the world. 

We also ran across this gigantic jellyfish which was colorful and interesting. None of us touched it though! 

Sometimes these small and unexpected moments are the most magical. 

Oddities

Last night I had a Going Back to School Nightmare which was bizarre timing after five years of retirement. In the dream I was subbing, yet the current French teacher was still there. I was panicked because I couldn't do 100% TPR (total physical response) which is the passion methodology of my department these days. It focuses almost completely on oral work and the teacher's stories and eschews my own passions which are grammar, spelling and culture. Anyway, it was scary! Combine that with what I've heard from former colleagues about the lack of discipline and consequences, the non-supportive school board and admin, the many demanding parents, the lazy and defiant students, the objections to teaching history and health if it makes anyone uncomfortable, the banning of books...Need I tell you that I won't be back in the classroom in any capacity? Please, no more nightmares tonight! 

This is National Dog Day thus I'm posting a photo of my "dog" who was showing me lots, actually too much, love. She would NOT leave me alone and kept climbing on me to get close to my face. Although I appreciate her devotion, her hair was going up my nose! Achoo! 

I've walked or driven by this house for decades yet never noticed that the old tractor is also their mailbox. Can you see it nestled inside the front? I know the family from my high school days. In fact...

Here is my late husband on a prom date with the daughter of the house. Oh, the yellow tux! You better believe we gave him some sh*t for this. :)

Little Guy's babysitter came back from Hawaii; although I've enjoyed my lunches and coffees out this week, it's seemed strange not to see my darling boy every day. I've missed him! Tomorrow John and I are meeting his parents and him to have lunch at an airport restaurant where he can watch planes take off and land. They're not diggers, but I hope they'll suffice. 

Seasons

Although it's 90 degrees and sunny right now, the trees know that a new season is coming. As August wanes, I'm seeing more and more red leaves and feeling the summer slip away. September is a strangely stressful month for a former teacher, even a retired one. 

My strawberries are confused and are blooming again, two months past when they should. It's currently blackberry season!

I'm a wealth of knowledge about my beloved blueberries but have no clue why this strawberry plant has pink blooms. I only picked strawberries for one miserable season. That month included slugs in the plants, crouching or kneeling in the dirt, and no shade whatsoever on hot days...

Some summers, like this one, my annuals survive yet they don't thrive. I've had years like that myself. 

Our Book Club hostess lives on a gorgeous property on Clarks Creek which made me feel a bit embarrassed about my peeling deck and dead back lawn. It's interesting that our conversations during the past two get togethers (Ram Ladies and Book Club) have revolved around who has died, who has cancer, what life used to be like pre-pandemic when we went to school with colds and rarely worried about viruses, what's happening with a friend who is on administrative leave and what he could have done, etc. We've also discussed our kids who have lost businesses, gotten divorced, moved back in with us during rough spots, etc. Is this what being an adult is like? It sucks. 

I'm still enjoying the season of pedicures and fancy toes--until the rains and cooler weather force me back into socks and shoes. Note: this is the only live patch on my front lawn and it definitely needs a trim. The advantage to having mostly dead grass is that it takes only a couple minutes to mow. :)

Practice makes better, not perfect

"Practice any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what's inside you, to make your soul grow."-Kurt Vonnegut

I could add: writing on a blog which involves (for me) a lot of soul searching although, little known fact, I crank out a post in under ten minutes. Something about starting to type focuses my mind and helps me put together my thoughts in some kind of cogent order. Usually.

I also could include: driving on the freeway. I'm getting better at it than I used to be! I had such a puny commute for the 37 years I taught and rarely drove on the highways and interstates. Now I have to take TWO to get to Older Daughter's Place. So, I may not be the best freeway driver, but I've discovered that I'm definitely not the WORST. Practice doesn't make perfect, but it does improve one's skills. Stupid Things I don't do: merge at 30 miles per hour, clog the left lane, ignore my signal lights, swerve from lane to lane, race other cars, get angry and aggressive when traffic is slow, talk/text on my cell phone, etc. Although I would never ever harm anyone, I am understanding road rage these days. There have been numerous drivers that I would like to (hypothetically) strangle. 

 

Pra

Since the kids were camping (came back early--long story), I had time to get my hair trimmed. I keep saying I want to grow it out a little and then hate it hanging there limply. Perhaps I'm meant to have short hair?

Ziggy loved my visit and was very needy for attention. He was entranced with my walking shoe for some reason. Who can figure out cats?

On a similar note, Mari and I watched the documentary "Inside the Mind of a Cat," thanks to a fellow blogger's recommendation. Well, OK, Mari really wasn't interested, but I learned a lot. I admire felines now more than ever; they aren't dogs and don't show love in the same way, yet they are affectionate, smart and trainable. Their skills and bodies are AMAZING! Since cat research is 15 years behind dog research, there is still so much to discover about these incredible creatures. Do I completely understand Mari now after this show? No, she is still a mystery--which is how she likes it. ;)

 

Firsts

Yesterday was the first time we've been to a large outdoor gathering since Covid hit. My daughters and son-in-law decided that we would make a brief appearance at my nephew's 16th birthday party. It felt weird and a little scary but I'm hoping that we managed to be cordial while keeping our distance. (especially from any Covid Carriers) It was also the first interaction between my grandson and my brother and his family. A year ago I suggested to my brother that we try to arrange a get together outside so that they could meet my then unvaccinated grandson. His enigmatic response: We'll have to see. It never happened which I found hurtful and telling. Note: although my brother is (forcibly) vaccinated for his job, the rest of his family is not and they're anti-vax and anti-mask. Have I mentioned before that much as I love my brother, we're on very different sides of the political spectrum? 

My sweetheart found lots of ancient classic construction equipment at the back of my brother's yard, so he wasn't interested in being around the people anyway. Not when there were diggers and dump trucks! 

Although she is happy and cuddly now, Mari has had a rough weekend with Older Daughter and her family staying here to get ready for their first tent camping trip. It's been chaotic--between looking for stuff in the garage, testing the old camp stove, hunting down stakes for the brand-new tent, preparing food, keeping Mari away from said food, washing out the camping dishes, trying out batteries in my late husband's collection of flashlights, etc. And that hasn't included trying to avoid Mari attacks on Older Daughter and Grandson. Little Guy used to say, "I (actually his name) hug Mari." When I explained to him that Mari wasn't a friendly cat and might hurt him, he then changed to, "I* see Mari but not hug her." This morning, he came up with an amazing sentence for a two-year-old: "I* watch Mari but from a distance." He's one smart little dude. 

Guess who I'm checking on while Older Daughter and family are camping here? Ziggy is the sweetest boy and so much nicer than Mari. Even I have to admit that, although it doesn't alter the fact that Mari is my girl and I do love her, maddening though she can be. After all, I'm not always 100% lovable or friendly myself. 

Fridazed

It doesn't get any better than a free birthday coffee with a friend, plus a great discussion of books, life and relationships. Thanks, Marie! It was strange to drive out to the coffee shop in the rain though. Note to self: I need to clean off my windshield more frequently! Today I texted John (visiting his mother) "Happy Anniversary of our first date! It's been a wonderful four years." His response: That's why I keep you around to remind me of these dates. Left on my own I'm terrible at remembering." Hmm, that was deflating underwhelming. I accept and appreciate John for his fine qualities but he's NOT (or ever will be) a romantic or sentimental guy. C'est la vie. 

I've been dreaming a lot about my ex-boyfriend for some reason, then inadvertently put on this shirt that I bought at the Pacific NW Scottish Highland Games when we were dating. That relationship was two years of exhilarating joy but tempered with horrible lows as I dealt with his depression, withdrawal and heavy drinking. I stuck around too long, cared too intensely, and didn't say or do what I should have for myself. Now it would be a very different story, but the ending would probably have been the same. I'm seeing my younger daughter in the same situation--hanging on to a special (to her) boyfriend who is toxic and a relationship that can't and shouldn't last. All the wise and tactful words I've thrown in her direction have been essentially ignored and right now things are a mess; she's not communicating at all and blew me off for our "date" tonight. I know that roller coaster ride well but it's still worrisome. 

I'm trying to hold on to the positives today. Believe it or not, our funny Little Guy finished this plateful of watermelon and didn't want to share the last slice with his mother. :)

Isn't he adorable? My guilty pleasure for the evening: reading the latest Chet and Bernie mystery. I definitely need the distraction of a book where the lovable narrator (co-detective) is a dog who flunked out of his police training and makes me laugh on nearly every page. 

Granny Nanny

Hello! Typepad has managed to erase all my photos in prior posts and wasn't letting me insert any pictures in this one earlier in the evening. So, if anything looks wonky, let me know...or perhaps don't, because I can't do a d*mned thing about it. Par for the course, as golfers would say, for a week when I've Granny Nannied every day, fought a couple of bad traffic days (stupid racers on Interstate 5 South) and dealt with cat throw up, tiredness from early mornings and a general discontent/depression with the state of the world. Still, Ziggy had a worse week with noisy workmen in the UP house. No, they weren't doing anything as exciting as installing a second bathroom. Instead, they were strapping the house to the foundation. (not cheap) Craftsman homes, as well as many (most?) old houses would simply slide off their foundations in a major earthquake. Modern construction building codes require protections for such catastrophes, especially in earthquake risky areas like the Pacific Northwest. Don't worry--the strapper or whatever the workman was called, eventually covered the holes in the sheetrock so Ziggy can no longer invade the wall and ceiling. :) 

I've been loving the time with Little Guy and have admired Older Daughter's green thumb. She is like her dad in that regard! 

See what I mean?

Grandson is still a fan of his diggers and enjoys dumping pea gravel (and dirt!) into Mémé's hands. Today he ate his own lunch then co-opted both of my spring rolls as well as eating his weight in blueberries. He likes to joke about his "purple poop." LOL He requests my stories about Mari's misbehavior constantly, especially the one where she tried to get into my Trader Joe's Oatmeal Cranberry Dunker Cookies by knocking them off the counter in the early morning. (nearly scaring me to death) He loves books, talking, hide and seek, teasing/joking and trying to avoid naptime.

Some of the time he succeeds, but not today. He is a treasure! Mémé is extremely tired in the evenings, but it is such a privilege to spend the days learning about this wonderful little person. 
 

 

The Un-birthday

As with most holidays, I'm always a little relieved when my birthday is over. It's a fine line between too much fuss and not enough attention. This year was ideal! I felt special yet not overwhelmed. However, on my actual birthday, I received a red-light camera infraction in the mail (Happy Effing Birthday) from an infamous traffic trap (Fife for locals) and was a little broken hearted. At 66, after a half century of driving, it was my first ticket. Then I looked at the location and pictures and realized, "Hey, that wasn't me!" My car, yes, me driving-NO. Without going into great detail, the Guilty Party has paid the ticket, and it doesn't go on my driving record at all. Whew. 

Yesterday we did my birthday Family Dinner on what would have been my late husband's 69th birthday. It's difficult to believe that he celebrated his last one ten years ago! It feels like a whole lifetime has passed although the memories are still so fresh at times. I often wonder what he would think of today's world: the many changes, the problems, and the progress or lack thereof. His politics evolved to be very different from mine; without boring you with specifics, I'm hoping that he would agree with me on most of the major issues going on right now. Enough said. 

Along with the three different pizzas and crudités (fancy word for raw veggies) provided by me, Younger Daughter brought fresh fruit and Older Daughter made my favorite marionberry pie. OD used the Duke restaurant recipe which calls for half marionberries and half raspberry jam. She not only cooked the jam herself, she also made the pectin from apples from her own trees. "I didn't feel like running to the store." If I hadn't given birth to her, I would wonder if we were even related! :)

Despite me being the "star" of the show (not that I wanted to be), Grandson took center stage with his personality and antics. My mom loves spending time around him; he's so smart and funny. I wish my late dad could have met him; how he would have adored this sweet little guy!