Today It's Still Fall

A Poem, by me

It’s November now, but the trees are holding
On to their yellows, oranges and reds,

The rushing wind whips the leaves that have fallen up off
The ground into whirlwinds around me.

The wind is bringing in the first snow of the new winter.
This warm air is a warning that it’s all about to change,

But not quite yet.
Today I walked through the park with the whirlwinds following me,

And looked up through the bright yellow leaves
Into a brilliant blue sky.

The sunlight came in streams through the branches,
And my heart went soft, peaceful, at rest.

Soon the leaves and trees, the grass and flowers will
All be at rest for the winter,

But not quite yet.
Today it’s still fall, beautiful, delicious, glorious fall.

Halloween was Garbage

William has an obsession with garbage trucks, trucks of all kinds, really, but garbage trucks especially.  Some time ago we went for a walk around the neighborhood on garbage collecting day, and he stood and stared at the trucks lifting the cans and dumping them.  Then he started moving his own arm like the claw, lifting it up over his head.  I don't know if that was the start of all this, but it must have contributed.  He has toy garbage trucks.  He even plays garbage truck.  He'll tear up pieces of paper and throw them on the floor with other junk and then use his claw to pick it all up and drop it on his back behind him.  Funny kid.

When we were getting close to Halloween, William wanted more than anything in the world to be a garbage truck, so Marla got some boxes and made one for him, and it is fantastic, wiper blades, headlights, rear lights, an open back where he could dump his candy, and, as fate would have it, the letters WM for waste management are also William's initials!  

I got to their house Monday at about 4, and that kid was so excited about Halloween he was jumping around like a pogo stick.  When the trick-or-treaters started knocking on the door he ran at a dead sprint to it to give them candy.  Then he'd watch out the window for more kids, then open the door and yell, "Hey, over here!"  He even wished the kids a happy Halloween.

I had planned to be a bag of garbage to go along with the truck, but William didn't like the idea.  I don't know why, and his language skills are still limited, so he couldn't really tell me why.  Maybe he didn't want anything added to or distracting from his already awesome truck.  There's room for only one garbage costume in that town, and his was it.  But, I did put it on for a few pictures with him using his claw.

And then we went trick-or-treating.

With cute Jonah, he was Luke Skywalker

In other Halloween news, there's a house in Marla's neighborhood that has the best yard display I have ever seen - the best - skeleton pirates with a ship and plenty of loot.  I love it so much.

William wore out after about an hour.  We pushed him for another 30 minutes before going home.  I snagged two Reese's peanut butter cups (my favorite) from my generous nephews, and then went home feeling very happy and fulfilled by the spirit of Halloween.  What a great holiday. 

Hope you all had fun, too!

The Female Hulk

I’m thinking that it’s a good thing that Dr Banner took the serum that turns him into the Hulk instead of his pretty partner taking it, whose name I can’t remember, but she was played by Liv Tyler in the last movie. Can you imagine what it would be like for a woman who becomes the Hulk to get through premenstrual syndrome? Can you imagine what that would do to the world?  It's just too horrible.


I’m feeling Hulk-like as it is. I have the patience of a 3-year old.  The bloating is making me huge.  My eyes turn florescent green with irrational rage without any warning. I want to trash this office leaving in my wake a pile of rubble, sparking computers, small fires. I am more than capable of yelling so loud and so long that it would slam a co-worker up against the wall. And then I would to slink off, alone, to a dark corner where I would lie down and cry myself to sleep, and sleep until it all goes away. Please, just make it go away.

Because You Just Never Know

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."
Henry David Thoreau


My heart is a little sore today. Aaron, my oldest brother, and his wife are facing the possible loss of her father. One week ago he was in a biking accident and was taken to the University hospital where he’s been unconscious since. Among his injuries is a severe blow to the head and internal bleeding. His condition is critical, and they may have some hard decisions ahead of them. As so many of you who have lost parents and parents-in-law know it’s a very difficult time.

Despite his sadness, Aaron, always being the big brother, had instructions for me. I said that its mind boggling to think that a person can wake up one morning and everything’s fine, and by the end of the day your whole life has changed, completely. He said, “You have to live deliberately. Make a plan, and then do it.” He’s right. I’ve never bought into the live like it’s the last day of your life mantra because, honestly, it’s so impractical. I have to go to work, do the dishes, and eat my vegetables. But I do believe in finding small, simple, beautiful things to be grateful for, and they exist in every day. And I believe that we are the masters of our souls (Invictus, Herman Ernest Henley). We are in control of our thoughts, behavior, actions, reactions. We decide what to do with our talents, intellect, resources, and with our relationships. So many unpredictable, uncontrollable events can change our lives in an instant, but still we decide how we are going to live our lives whatever the circumstances.

Aaron said another thing that will stick with me, “We need to be kind. You don’t know if the person you see on the street has a parent dying in the hospital.” Typing that out has made me tear up, so I don’t think that I’ll try to say more. I’m sure you understand the point.

Aaron is a very good man. I love him. I admire and respect him, and that almost means more to me than loving him. You have to love your family, but really liking who they are is so, so nice. I’ve learned a lot from his example of faith. My heart aches for Kristi, my sister-in-law, when I think that she has a father who might be dying in the hospital, but I know that the same faith and goodness that has brought them this far will see them through whatever comes next.

I’m sure that prayers would do them good, if you feel so inclined. Just say, “Angie’s brother” or “Aaron and Kristi”. God will know who you’re talking about.

Thanks, You are Loved.

I have a subsrciption to Vanity Fair magazine.  It's pretty good, lots of interesting articles, and while I don't live up to the lifestyles of those featured in the Vanity, it's fun to pretend every once in a while.  My last issue featured a story about letters from Ernest Heminway to family and others that he wrote during his years in Paris.  The letters are fascinating in their descriptions of Paris life, and it was kind of mind-blowing to look at something handwritten by one of our best authors.

Reading this got met thinking, people don't write letters anymore.  It's become a lost art, and I wonder if our history won't be lost with it.  So much of what we know about iconic figures was found in letters and journals, personal writings.  Now we communicate with texts and tweets, or get on Facebook, none of which will be saved.  What will the next generation know about us?  And what will anyone know about the next generation?  It will be interesting to see. 

I think that I've mentioned before that my dad writes to me.  I've kept every letter that he, and mom, have sent.  The way he writes really reflects his personality, and I know that someday, maybe after he's gone, I'll be so glad to have his letters.  I'll show them to others and say, "This is my dad", and I'll read them myself and feel close to him again. 

I'm not trying to convince you all that you have to start writing letters.  I don't do it.  The closest I get is sending a card with a few short lines.  Still, it's important to have something of yourself to share with those who will come after you.  They'll want to know you.  I want to know you.  The blogging world has been nice for that.  It makes me feel like I know you.  And, you can have a blog printed into a book, something that some of my friends have done.  There's something that will last.

Thanks, as always, for checking in with me.  You are loved.

Celebrating 74

Hello All!  As you may know, I went on vacation last week.  Wait, you probably don't know that because I haven't posted anything here for a month.  Gosh all Friday! (a little saying I picked up from my Dad while on vacation)  I flew to Minneapolis on Saturday, Sept 3, where I met Dad, and the two of us drove to Rochester where Courtney and his family live.  Mom had had already been there helping Andrea with her children and their new baby girl.  Olivia Sharon, named after my mom, was born on August 26th.  She's very small and sweet and has cheeks just right for lots of kisses. 

  

September 4th was Mom's 74th birthday.  I set out with Amalia (who was having fits like every good 2-year old should and really needed to get out of the house) to the store for cake and birthday necessities.  When we came to the candles, I debated between getting the numbers 7 and 4, or buying several boxes of individual candles.  The idea of 74 candles really had me, so I bought the boxes.

Once home, I counted out the candles and asked Spencer and Drew to put them on the cake with me.  Spencer asked why we were doing so many, and when I told him that Grandma was 74 years old he got a very puzzled looked.  Drew said that the smoke alarm was going to go off, no questions about that.  But we set to work, and the cake looked good.  Well, actually it looked like a whole mess of candles, but we were happy with it.

After dinner, when it came time to light them, Courtney and I each used one of the longer candles to light the others. The candles were so close to each other that some of the wicks came together and made really tall flames, which created more heat.  Everything melted into rivers of wax running all over the frosting.  I broke a sweat sitting next to it, and Drew reminded us about the smoke detector.  We sang "Happy Birthday" as fast as possible.  It took Mom one good blow and another smaller one to blow them all out.  I was eating my piece and saw a dot of wax that I hadn't scraped off yet.  When I pulled on it a whole candle came up.  Poor thing had been burned right down into the cake.  I admit it was a mess, and next year I'm going with the 7 and 5, but Mom (and I) will remember the year of 74 candles for the rest of our lives.

Other trip events:
Shane, Donna and family spent Labor Day with us, and I learned, much to my dismay, that his boys can't play football.  How does that happen in the Midwest?  Still, it was good fun.

Mom, Dad and I drove to Chicago for a few days with my aunt and her family.  Chicago has the best food in the world!  I have mixed emotions about this because it's so wonderful when we're there, but so sad when I'm here craving that food.

We went to the Field Museum of Natural History.

The city was beautiful.

I found that my aunt's house feels as homey now as it did when I was a kid.

I spent way too much money shopping.

And, I flew home again on September 11th.  Getting through security was much better than expected.

And now I'm back at work.  I feel the need to start writing more, so I'll try to keep this blog going.  I guess that's more of a promise to myself than to you.  Hope you all had a great summer, and happy fall!

Playing with Boys

For the last 10 days I have been at Marla’s house with her 4 boys while she and Mike celebrated their 20th anniversary in Cancun. I was nervous about doing this, not so much about taking care of the boys, but more about being away from home for so long. I have a comfortable place all my own in our little apartment. Staying in someone else’s house isn’t always so comfortable. Where do I sleep? What about the bathroom? Four boys will create a lot of dirty dishes, and dirty dishes really gross me out. The truth is, I’m set in my ways, and like things just so. You don’t get much ‘just so’ in a house full of kids. But, I summoned all of my courage, packed up my stuff, and went to Marla’s. After a couple of days I was settled into the routine, and then started to really like the domestic life. Here are a few highlights, observations, impressions, etc.


Zac and Josh, 16 and 14, are remarkably self-sufficient. Marla has told me many times that they’re okay to take care of things themselves, and she wasn’t lying. My first evening there, Josh fired up the grill and made us all burgers and hot dogs, and they were tasty. Wednesday I came home to find Zac cooking meat for tacos, with homemade salsa. Zac has been doing laundry. Josh got himself packed and out the door this morning for scout camp. Every time I’ve thought that I might need to help with something, I’ve found out that they’ve already done it. Remarkable.

Jonah, 9, is equally responsible. He’s back in school now, and that little boy sets his own alarm clock, gets up and dressed, gets his own breakfast and leaves the house right on time. My first morning there I got up with him and went into the kitchen to get him off to school and ended up wondering why I was there. He didn’t need a thing. Even his backpack was ready to go. After the first couple of mornings I didn’t even try to help. I said hello to him, asked how he was, and then went to the bathroom to get ready for work.

And then there’s William. I’ve never been so in love. With the older boys being so independent, William was really the reason I was there, to take care of him. He’s at a great age. He can talk, and is potty trained (hooray), but still little enough to pick up and squeeze. He’s bossy, and a bit spoiled (who did that I wonder?) and also sweet, and he gets excited about the littlest things, and it’s so much fun. He does like to get into things. I wish, literally wish, that I had a dollar for every time I looked at him and said, “What are you doing?!” The Visa card would be paid off.

Like I said, I’ve gotten very comfortable in my life. It’s simple, and I’ve come to not only like but sometimes revel in being single. All that’s mine is all my own. But, after a week of playing with boys I can see why girls want to get married and have a family. Especially when William comes running to me for a hug and says, “I love you, G.” I know, it’s all very Lifetime Channel made-for-tv-movie, very cliché, but having family is better. It’s better than being on your own. It’s a damned frustrating realization, but one has to face the truth. I’ll have to make Marla leave town again very soon.