Monday, February 28, 2011
Seven Days
I have now officially been back from California for a week. In that week, we have had two inches of snow, a couple of inches of rain along with two thunderstorms and torando warnings. Welcome back to Indiana!
Also in that week, I have:
1. Taken care of the dead car battery situation.
2. Taken a routine blood test.
3. Had an appointment with my cardiologist.
4. Baked seven dozen cookies in order to use up some cookie dough that I had bought from my grandchildren's school fundraiser, then donated them (so I wouldn't eat them!) to the Homeless Feeding Program at church.
5. Been to my old school in order to help with the radio club there.
It's quiet here. I miss my daughter and the sunshine of Sunnyvale, CA...but I keep hoping that spring will eventually show up in central Indiana. In just a few short weeks, the family will descend here for spring break. It gives me something to look forward to! Let's see--where did I put my to-do list??
Also in that week, I have:
1. Taken care of the dead car battery situation.
2. Taken a routine blood test.
3. Had an appointment with my cardiologist.
4. Baked seven dozen cookies in order to use up some cookie dough that I had bought from my grandchildren's school fundraiser, then donated them (so I wouldn't eat them!) to the Homeless Feeding Program at church.
5. Been to my old school in order to help with the radio club there.
It's quiet here. I miss my daughter and the sunshine of Sunnyvale, CA...but I keep hoping that spring will eventually show up in central Indiana. In just a few short weeks, the family will descend here for spring break. It gives me something to look forward to! Let's see--where did I put my to-do list??
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Journeys of Faith
It's always difficult to write about things as personal as religion and faith because they are so...well...personal. My own religious journey has been checkered, at best, but I think it helps define who I am, if that's even possible. (One of the reasons I never registered for online dating sites during my years as a single woman is that they ask me to describe myself--what I want and what I like--and I find myself to be too diverse to wrap up succinctly, so I don't even try. So it is with matters of faith.)
I don't know where religion came from for me. It was just there. My parents were not church-goers, although they were Christian. My father declared that he was a Methodist. My mother had been one of those kids who was a weekly attendee (forced, I'm sure) at the Ancona Church of Christ in Ancona, Illinois--a little church that her great-grandparents helped to found. "Brother Armstrong" was frequently asked to give a blessing, at which point Mom and her siblings would stand first on one foot and then the other because they knew the prayer would be long. Ancona, at that time, was nothing more than the church, Gade Carpenter's general store, and a few houses near some railroad tracks. (Still is, minus the store.) In any case, as adults, my parents just didn't do the church thing, although my beloved grandparents did. When we were visiting at their farm, saying grace before meals was a given. So was going to church, especially on Easter. I think, perhaps, my first religious experiences came from that.
My family was stationed in Danville, IL, for the longest we had ever been anywhere (three-and-a-half years). (My dad was an officer in the USNR.) I had a friend--a rarity for me because we moved so much--and I started going to church with Susie and her family at the First Christian Church of Danville. I was baptized there, by immersion, somewhere along about third grade. I didn't particularly like Sunday School because I was a well-behaved kid trapped in an SS class with kids who behaved like heathens. I went because it was the thing to do in preparation for baptism. My heart was really just in the worship services.
At the end of fourth grade, my family was sent to Japan. At that time, the only Christian churches in Japan were Catholic. No chances there. But when we returned to the States as civilians and moved to the suburbs of Chicago, I started going to the First Methodist Church there with a neighbor friend. I was a 6th grader. I still didn't go to Sunday School but became active in the youth choir there. We sang at the early worship service every Sunday, and we were good! I also became active with the youth group. I went to church each week all by myself, for the most part--walking, because the church wasn't far. It was in these years that my faith became a part of my every day life.
Oh, what a pious child I was! The Bible tells us to "pray without ceasing"...and I did. Whenever I was alone, I had a running conversation with God. If any "unclean" thoughts came into my mind, I prayed for forgiveness. I lived a pure (and boring) life. I was intensely interested in doing something for the Lord in my future life. I had no idea what that would be! Truly, for a very long time, things came easy for me. I considered myself blessed by God.
In junior high and high school, my best friend was a devout Christian Scientist. Being around her and her family sparked an interest about religions in me. I didn't doubt my own faith, but I began looking into other faiths by way of finding out what separates us all in our beliefs (or lack of). I did a lot of reading in those days. Having lived in a foreign country (Japan) also taught me tolerance. I was not a Bible-thumper. My faith was strong, but I also recognized that others had faith that was just as strong, if different than mine.
My first husband was Catholic, the second generation child of Belgian immigrants. Although Tom never asked me to, I studied the Baltimore Catechism in order to determine if I could convert to Catholicism for him. I was fascinated by the holy and ancient nature of Catholic beliefs and traditions, but it turned out that Tom wasn't as happy in his faith as I was in mine. He ended up joining the Methodist Church in Normal, IL, with me! For the most part, we attended church together, but our marriage didn't last long. (That's a whole other post!)
For a few years after I met my second husband and we were married, I didn't attend church. (That is ALSO another post.) Our daughter was born. Soon, I felt isolated and alone, realizing that something was missing in my life. I went back to church. This was the First United Methodist Church of Pontiac, IL. I felt that I'd come home. I was active in the church, but I couldn't get my husband, Joe, to attend, even though he was a principal in the school district there, and one of the influential School Board members was also a mover-and-shaker in the church.
Still, now there was another life to consider. My grandmother had told me once that it is up to the parents to provide religious education to the children. I took that admonition seriously. I tried to get my daughter to go to Sunday School, but she resisted. (It was a little hard for me to convince her to go when her father wouldn't.) Thus, I spent quite a few years singing in the choir and being Youth Director for that church, alone. I didn't need them to go but always felt that it would be so nice to have them there to share that with me. I realized that one can't force these things... Still, I was torn. I wanted my daughter to be able to make future decisions of faith based on what she wanted or needed, but I didn't know how she could do that without some foundation by which to choose. I talked to Joe about having Megan baptized. He was really ambiguous about it, so I took the bull by the horns and made the arrangement.
On Palm Sunday of 1987, we presented our beautiful daughter to Rev. Swantner to be baptized. She was wearing an $80 dress (quite expensive for those days) purchased by Grandpa Covill, and had a crown of baby's breath in her hair. My family, God bless them, came from hours away to be in attendance. (Our mother had died the previous November. We were still grieving but saw this as a moment of hope.) When Rev. Swantner sprinkled her head, Megan brushed the water off her shoulders. (I think Robin would have done the same!) After the occasion, we had a family dinner, complete with a lamb cake. Easter was right around the corner. It was all good.
Joe and I and Megan moved to Cloverdale, IN, so he could take a principalship there. Things had been quite stressful for us for months. (Long story.) After staying at his parents' in Greencastle for a week, he insulted me, and I decided that Megan and I would start staying in the rented house in Cloverdale, even though it wasn't really ready for us to inhabit. I used the excuse that we needed to get established at the Cloverdale United Methodist Church. It worked. For a couple of years, I was active in that church--served as choir director (!) and led the Long-Term Committee to help determine the future direction of the church. And then the bottom fell out of my marriage.
Joe and I were divorced in 1991. Megan and I moved to Plainfield, IN, right across from the Plainfield United Methodist Church. I joined immediately and started singing in the choir. Then my father got sick in Illinois, and I was spending so many weekends there that I dropped out. One thing came to another, and I was 15 years absent. No one seemed to notice.
When my daughter married and had children, I was worried that my grandchildren wouldn't get any religious education. How wrong I was! Megan and her husband joined the Unitarian Universalist Church in Muncie, IN, and the kids were there every week. Then, after they divorced and Nathan remarried a Catholic (and got custody of the children), they were sent to Catholic school and attended mass every week. When they visit here, they attend church and Sunday School with me and their other grandparents. Whew! The kids know more about Bible stories than I do!
Recently, I spent a couple of weeks in California with Megan and Denis. We watched the movie Ben-Hur and a Russian equivalent. Thereafter, Megan confessed to me that she didn't know any "Jesus stories". I told her that I guess I had neglected her Christian education. She said she had simply resisted it. She seemed to want to know more, so I just directed her to start reading the New Testament--Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. She has actually been reading it! I knew she would find things that are "hard to swallow", but she has also found some verses that give her comfort. If all she wants to do is learn about Jesus stories, she is doing it on her own and undirected. Today, she and Denis sought out a church to go to. Ya know, I am not a missionary. I believe that it is possible to live a good life without a church, but I also believe in the Community of the Faithful. If you surround yourself with people of faith, your own faith--whatever it is--is strengthened.
Scantly just over a year ago, I was so devoid of hope and life that I didn't want to live anymore. I spent weeks in bed, not caring about anything. Everything I had worked so hard for was gone, with no regard for what I needed or felt, and I was told that I was playing the "victim". I reached out in every direction, looking for help. The only help I got came from above. Little by little, I chose to deliver myself to people who scarcely knew me (a Sunday School class) and just wept my way through every single worship service at church. Some of the hurts will never go away, but I have learned to forgive and move on, by God's grace. I am now in my "golden years" (what a joke!) and at the point of asking God daily not to take me until I get this thing or that thing done. I pray that my daughter can find something that calms her and gives her peace. We all seek that. Faith is a journey that never ends!
I don't know where religion came from for me. It was just there. My parents were not church-goers, although they were Christian. My father declared that he was a Methodist. My mother had been one of those kids who was a weekly attendee (forced, I'm sure) at the Ancona Church of Christ in Ancona, Illinois--a little church that her great-grandparents helped to found. "Brother Armstrong" was frequently asked to give a blessing, at which point Mom and her siblings would stand first on one foot and then the other because they knew the prayer would be long. Ancona, at that time, was nothing more than the church, Gade Carpenter's general store, and a few houses near some railroad tracks. (Still is, minus the store.) In any case, as adults, my parents just didn't do the church thing, although my beloved grandparents did. When we were visiting at their farm, saying grace before meals was a given. So was going to church, especially on Easter. I think, perhaps, my first religious experiences came from that.
My family was stationed in Danville, IL, for the longest we had ever been anywhere (three-and-a-half years). (My dad was an officer in the USNR.) I had a friend--a rarity for me because we moved so much--and I started going to church with Susie and her family at the First Christian Church of Danville. I was baptized there, by immersion, somewhere along about third grade. I didn't particularly like Sunday School because I was a well-behaved kid trapped in an SS class with kids who behaved like heathens. I went because it was the thing to do in preparation for baptism. My heart was really just in the worship services.
At the end of fourth grade, my family was sent to Japan. At that time, the only Christian churches in Japan were Catholic. No chances there. But when we returned to the States as civilians and moved to the suburbs of Chicago, I started going to the First Methodist Church there with a neighbor friend. I was a 6th grader. I still didn't go to Sunday School but became active in the youth choir there. We sang at the early worship service every Sunday, and we were good! I also became active with the youth group. I went to church each week all by myself, for the most part--walking, because the church wasn't far. It was in these years that my faith became a part of my every day life.
Oh, what a pious child I was! The Bible tells us to "pray without ceasing"...and I did. Whenever I was alone, I had a running conversation with God. If any "unclean" thoughts came into my mind, I prayed for forgiveness. I lived a pure (and boring) life. I was intensely interested in doing something for the Lord in my future life. I had no idea what that would be! Truly, for a very long time, things came easy for me. I considered myself blessed by God.
In junior high and high school, my best friend was a devout Christian Scientist. Being around her and her family sparked an interest about religions in me. I didn't doubt my own faith, but I began looking into other faiths by way of finding out what separates us all in our beliefs (or lack of). I did a lot of reading in those days. Having lived in a foreign country (Japan) also taught me tolerance. I was not a Bible-thumper. My faith was strong, but I also recognized that others had faith that was just as strong, if different than mine.
My first husband was Catholic, the second generation child of Belgian immigrants. Although Tom never asked me to, I studied the Baltimore Catechism in order to determine if I could convert to Catholicism for him. I was fascinated by the holy and ancient nature of Catholic beliefs and traditions, but it turned out that Tom wasn't as happy in his faith as I was in mine. He ended up joining the Methodist Church in Normal, IL, with me! For the most part, we attended church together, but our marriage didn't last long. (That's a whole other post!)
For a few years after I met my second husband and we were married, I didn't attend church. (That is ALSO another post.) Our daughter was born. Soon, I felt isolated and alone, realizing that something was missing in my life. I went back to church. This was the First United Methodist Church of Pontiac, IL. I felt that I'd come home. I was active in the church, but I couldn't get my husband, Joe, to attend, even though he was a principal in the school district there, and one of the influential School Board members was also a mover-and-shaker in the church.
Still, now there was another life to consider. My grandmother had told me once that it is up to the parents to provide religious education to the children. I took that admonition seriously. I tried to get my daughter to go to Sunday School, but she resisted. (It was a little hard for me to convince her to go when her father wouldn't.) Thus, I spent quite a few years singing in the choir and being Youth Director for that church, alone. I didn't need them to go but always felt that it would be so nice to have them there to share that with me. I realized that one can't force these things... Still, I was torn. I wanted my daughter to be able to make future decisions of faith based on what she wanted or needed, but I didn't know how she could do that without some foundation by which to choose. I talked to Joe about having Megan baptized. He was really ambiguous about it, so I took the bull by the horns and made the arrangement.
On Palm Sunday of 1987, we presented our beautiful daughter to Rev. Swantner to be baptized. She was wearing an $80 dress (quite expensive for those days) purchased by Grandpa Covill, and had a crown of baby's breath in her hair. My family, God bless them, came from hours away to be in attendance. (Our mother had died the previous November. We were still grieving but saw this as a moment of hope.) When Rev. Swantner sprinkled her head, Megan brushed the water off her shoulders. (I think Robin would have done the same!) After the occasion, we had a family dinner, complete with a lamb cake. Easter was right around the corner. It was all good.
Joe and I and Megan moved to Cloverdale, IN, so he could take a principalship there. Things had been quite stressful for us for months. (Long story.) After staying at his parents' in Greencastle for a week, he insulted me, and I decided that Megan and I would start staying in the rented house in Cloverdale, even though it wasn't really ready for us to inhabit. I used the excuse that we needed to get established at the Cloverdale United Methodist Church. It worked. For a couple of years, I was active in that church--served as choir director (!) and led the Long-Term Committee to help determine the future direction of the church. And then the bottom fell out of my marriage.
Joe and I were divorced in 1991. Megan and I moved to Plainfield, IN, right across from the Plainfield United Methodist Church. I joined immediately and started singing in the choir. Then my father got sick in Illinois, and I was spending so many weekends there that I dropped out. One thing came to another, and I was 15 years absent. No one seemed to notice.
When my daughter married and had children, I was worried that my grandchildren wouldn't get any religious education. How wrong I was! Megan and her husband joined the Unitarian Universalist Church in Muncie, IN, and the kids were there every week. Then, after they divorced and Nathan remarried a Catholic (and got custody of the children), they were sent to Catholic school and attended mass every week. When they visit here, they attend church and Sunday School with me and their other grandparents. Whew! The kids know more about Bible stories than I do!
Recently, I spent a couple of weeks in California with Megan and Denis. We watched the movie Ben-Hur and a Russian equivalent. Thereafter, Megan confessed to me that she didn't know any "Jesus stories". I told her that I guess I had neglected her Christian education. She said she had simply resisted it. She seemed to want to know more, so I just directed her to start reading the New Testament--Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. She has actually been reading it! I knew she would find things that are "hard to swallow", but she has also found some verses that give her comfort. If all she wants to do is learn about Jesus stories, she is doing it on her own and undirected. Today, she and Denis sought out a church to go to. Ya know, I am not a missionary. I believe that it is possible to live a good life without a church, but I also believe in the Community of the Faithful. If you surround yourself with people of faith, your own faith--whatever it is--is strengthened.
Scantly just over a year ago, I was so devoid of hope and life that I didn't want to live anymore. I spent weeks in bed, not caring about anything. Everything I had worked so hard for was gone, with no regard for what I needed or felt, and I was told that I was playing the "victim". I reached out in every direction, looking for help. The only help I got came from above. Little by little, I chose to deliver myself to people who scarcely knew me (a Sunday School class) and just wept my way through every single worship service at church. Some of the hurts will never go away, but I have learned to forgive and move on, by God's grace. I am now in my "golden years" (what a joke!) and at the point of asking God daily not to take me until I get this thing or that thing done. I pray that my daughter can find something that calms her and gives her peace. We all seek that. Faith is a journey that never ends!
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Time Flies
I have no idea how it got to be Saturday already!
As already reported, I got home from California on Tuesday.
Wednesday, my friend Ryan came over to rescue me and my car from Dead Battery Syndrome. He had the old one out in no time. He drove me to Walmart to turn in the dead one and buy new, then returned home where he had the new one in faster than getting the old one out. The car started right up, and Ryan left in a cloud of dust. I am one lucky woman to have such competent and willing friends!
Thursday, I drove to Avon for a blood draw prior to my cardiologist appointment on Friday. This is to check out cholesterol, etc. The technician that I got this time wasn't as good as the one I usually get. She had to poke around to get the needle in the vein, but miraculously, I didn't bruise. (Plavix usually makes big bruises out of little holes.)
Friday morning, I woke up to two inches of heavy snow on the ground. My neighbor had a path blown to my doorstep before I had to leave for the doctor. Of course, I had to clean off the car... The roads weren't good but I was only three minutes late for my appointment. The good news is that my cholesterol and thyroid function are good. The bad news is that my weight is up 10 pounds since my last visit and my blood pressure is a tad higher than the doc wants it. (He prescribed another pill.) He has also ordered an ultrasound of my carotid arteries because he thought he heard something. I really need to get going to lose weight and get back to regular walking. Now that the weather is breaking (I guess), I can convince myself that it's worth it!
Today, I have watched a lot of mindless television, but I have also spent some time listing things I want to accomplish in the next four weeks. Sometimes just having a plan gives me enough impetus to actually get off my fanny and DO stuff. I baked seven dozen cookies to use up fundraiser cookie dough that I bought from my grandchildren last fall. Those will either go to the freezer or to the Homeless Feeding program at church (depending on what I hear from Grandpa Phil about that). Grandpa Phil is our grandchildren's paternal grandfather, but also the chief cook for feeding the homeless through our church. It keeps him out of trouble!
I'm getting excited about March! I am helping to plan a 50th anniversary party for my sister and bro-in-law at the end of that month. Megan and Denis will be with me, as will the children. It will be the first time that my family will meet my son-in-law. We won't stay in Springfield, IL, long, but hope to have a nice celebration as well as see some Lincoln sights (for Denis and the children). The 26th is also Megan and Denis's first anniversary. Hope to make it a special occasion for everyone!
Snow is thawing, so everything is messy...again. I'll just be happy when the cold and snow is over. As dry as it was late last summer, I didn't think I'd ever say that. I just need sunshine!
As already reported, I got home from California on Tuesday.
Wednesday, my friend Ryan came over to rescue me and my car from Dead Battery Syndrome. He had the old one out in no time. He drove me to Walmart to turn in the dead one and buy new, then returned home where he had the new one in faster than getting the old one out. The car started right up, and Ryan left in a cloud of dust. I am one lucky woman to have such competent and willing friends!
Thursday, I drove to Avon for a blood draw prior to my cardiologist appointment on Friday. This is to check out cholesterol, etc. The technician that I got this time wasn't as good as the one I usually get. She had to poke around to get the needle in the vein, but miraculously, I didn't bruise. (Plavix usually makes big bruises out of little holes.)
Friday morning, I woke up to two inches of heavy snow on the ground. My neighbor had a path blown to my doorstep before I had to leave for the doctor. Of course, I had to clean off the car... The roads weren't good but I was only three minutes late for my appointment. The good news is that my cholesterol and thyroid function are good. The bad news is that my weight is up 10 pounds since my last visit and my blood pressure is a tad higher than the doc wants it. (He prescribed another pill.) He has also ordered an ultrasound of my carotid arteries because he thought he heard something. I really need to get going to lose weight and get back to regular walking. Now that the weather is breaking (I guess), I can convince myself that it's worth it!
Today, I have watched a lot of mindless television, but I have also spent some time listing things I want to accomplish in the next four weeks. Sometimes just having a plan gives me enough impetus to actually get off my fanny and DO stuff. I baked seven dozen cookies to use up fundraiser cookie dough that I bought from my grandchildren last fall. Those will either go to the freezer or to the Homeless Feeding program at church (depending on what I hear from Grandpa Phil about that). Grandpa Phil is our grandchildren's paternal grandfather, but also the chief cook for feeding the homeless through our church. It keeps him out of trouble!
I'm getting excited about March! I am helping to plan a 50th anniversary party for my sister and bro-in-law at the end of that month. Megan and Denis will be with me, as will the children. It will be the first time that my family will meet my son-in-law. We won't stay in Springfield, IL, long, but hope to have a nice celebration as well as see some Lincoln sights (for Denis and the children). The 26th is also Megan and Denis's first anniversary. Hope to make it a special occasion for everyone!
Snow is thawing, so everything is messy...again. I'll just be happy when the cold and snow is over. As dry as it was late last summer, I didn't think I'd ever say that. I just need sunshine!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Home Is the Hunter...
I was up early this morning to throw my things in a suitcase and have Denis and Megan drive me to the San Jose Airport for the trek to Indy. I'm not an "easy" flyer. I do it because I have to. It's not all that bad. I think the anticipation is worse than the actual process...
The first part of the trip was San Jose to Chicago Midway. I was in an aisle seat with a young child by the window and his mother between us. The kid was a good traveler. His mother, however, never really said anything to me...nor did she seem to understand that the huge pillow she held on her lap was mostly on mine. She also reached over and shut the shade to the window, blocking the only view I had of the ground during the clear portion of the trip. *sigh* When the shade was up, she had her hands to her mouth, chewing her fingernails, blocking my view...and when she wasn't chewing, she had a magazine open high in front of her face, blocking even more of my view. I just determined to read my book and let it go... I did get to see Lake Tahoe (which the pilot pointed out), but that was about it. We landed in Chicago 20 minutes early.
At Midway, I had time to find a restroom, find the flight gate, and call Megan. As I was standing off to the side with the cell phone, a very familiar young lady approached me and asked if I was Ms. McNary from Monrovia Schools. A former student of mine! I recognized her as one of mine but confused her with her older sister who is a clone. She is a surgical nurse at Riley Children's Hospital in Indy now, coming back from a cruise vacation to Cazumel with three of her friends. What are the odds??? I told Meg I was going to go look for a snack before boarding, but I noticed a line at the gate. I asked one of the gate attendants who was boarding. He said "Indianapolis". They were already boarding the "B's"...I was an "A"...so I jumped the line. No snack for me! Truth be known, I like it when there aren't long waits for flight connections, but it makes me nervous if the first flight is late. So far, I haven't missed one, but it's been close a time or two!
The flight from Chicago to Indy is 28 minutes in the air. 'Tis about 45 minutes, gate-to-gate. My bag arrived on schedule. I called Judy and Phil, my ride from the airport, to tell them that I was ready to roll. They were there in 15 minutes. (I love that we live that close to the airport.) Phil dropped me off at the grocery store to pick up milk and bread, etc., and took Judy home to finish dinner...then he picked me up and took me to their home for a dinner that really hit the spot! (I hadn't eaten anything by way of REAL food since the greasy piece of pizza I ate at San Jose in order to take my pills.) They are so good to me!!
As soon as dinner was over, J and P brought me home. I was reunited with my snow boots that I had left in their truck the day they delivered me to the airport for the California trip. There is no snow or ice on the ground now. Quite a different Indiana than the one I left two-and-a-half weeks ago! The house needed to be heated up since I had turned the thermostats down before I left. The banana that I left on the kitchen counter is petrified now, but the place is still here as I left it.
I had a great time with my daughter and son-in-law in California. We did a lot of traveling and sightseeing. (I think Meg thought we should have done more, but what we did do was fun and meaningful. Anything else might have been unnecessarily expensive. They spent a fortune on my visit!) I will see them again in a month when they come here for spring break with the children. It will be fun!
In the meantime, I need to get the car battery replaced and the oil changed...and another vehicle issue taken care of.
My body is still on California time...so it is late but I'm not tired yet. I'll cycle back in a few days. It takes time...
The first part of the trip was San Jose to Chicago Midway. I was in an aisle seat with a young child by the window and his mother between us. The kid was a good traveler. His mother, however, never really said anything to me...nor did she seem to understand that the huge pillow she held on her lap was mostly on mine. She also reached over and shut the shade to the window, blocking the only view I had of the ground during the clear portion of the trip. *sigh* When the shade was up, she had her hands to her mouth, chewing her fingernails, blocking my view...and when she wasn't chewing, she had a magazine open high in front of her face, blocking even more of my view. I just determined to read my book and let it go... I did get to see Lake Tahoe (which the pilot pointed out), but that was about it. We landed in Chicago 20 minutes early.
At Midway, I had time to find a restroom, find the flight gate, and call Megan. As I was standing off to the side with the cell phone, a very familiar young lady approached me and asked if I was Ms. McNary from Monrovia Schools. A former student of mine! I recognized her as one of mine but confused her with her older sister who is a clone. She is a surgical nurse at Riley Children's Hospital in Indy now, coming back from a cruise vacation to Cazumel with three of her friends. What are the odds??? I told Meg I was going to go look for a snack before boarding, but I noticed a line at the gate. I asked one of the gate attendants who was boarding. He said "Indianapolis". They were already boarding the "B's"...I was an "A"...so I jumped the line. No snack for me! Truth be known, I like it when there aren't long waits for flight connections, but it makes me nervous if the first flight is late. So far, I haven't missed one, but it's been close a time or two!
The flight from Chicago to Indy is 28 minutes in the air. 'Tis about 45 minutes, gate-to-gate. My bag arrived on schedule. I called Judy and Phil, my ride from the airport, to tell them that I was ready to roll. They were there in 15 minutes. (I love that we live that close to the airport.) Phil dropped me off at the grocery store to pick up milk and bread, etc., and took Judy home to finish dinner...then he picked me up and took me to their home for a dinner that really hit the spot! (I hadn't eaten anything by way of REAL food since the greasy piece of pizza I ate at San Jose in order to take my pills.) They are so good to me!!
As soon as dinner was over, J and P brought me home. I was reunited with my snow boots that I had left in their truck the day they delivered me to the airport for the California trip. There is no snow or ice on the ground now. Quite a different Indiana than the one I left two-and-a-half weeks ago! The house needed to be heated up since I had turned the thermostats down before I left. The banana that I left on the kitchen counter is petrified now, but the place is still here as I left it.
I had a great time with my daughter and son-in-law in California. We did a lot of traveling and sightseeing. (I think Meg thought we should have done more, but what we did do was fun and meaningful. Anything else might have been unnecessarily expensive. They spent a fortune on my visit!) I will see them again in a month when they come here for spring break with the children. It will be fun!
In the meantime, I need to get the car battery replaced and the oil changed...and another vehicle issue taken care of.
My body is still on California time...so it is late but I'm not tired yet. I'll cycle back in a few days. It takes time...
Monday, February 21, 2011
Butterflies Are Free
On Saturday, because it was quite cool and a little rainy, even Denis opted for a stay-at-home day. We had originally thought that we would go to San Francisco for their Chinese New Year parade, but lacking a helicopter that could fly us in and fly us out, it just seemed like too much to try it. We would have to take Caltran, trolleys, and maybe a dog-sled or two just to get there because parking is such a problem. That and the fact that they were expecting a million spectators convinced me that we should probably just watch it on TV...which we did. But prior to the event, we didn't exactly stay home. We went to Fry's Electronics to return some computer speakers. (Quite a place!) We stopped to get Denis's hair cut, then topped off the afternoon at a Chinese buffet. (Different menu than at home. Crayfish, clams, crab legs, oysters...more seafood than in Plainfield. Duh!)
After running our errands, we came home to watch the parade, then started the first part of the movie "Ben-Hur". I think Denis enjoyed it.
Sunday, we ventured out to Monterey--more specifically, Pacific Grove--to find monarch butterflies that migrate there for the winter. The little preserve was really not much more than a path off an alley in a neighborhood, but there were butterflies! According to a guide there, they get as many as 20,000. The day was cool and there weren't nearly that many there, but they were clustered together...and we got pictures. (It also happens to be near the place where John Denver died in his experimental airplane.)
We headed south toward Big Sur to see if we could spot any whales. Didn't see any, but it was worth a try. Before some clouds moved in, the contrast of the white of the breaking surf against the deep blue of the ocean and the light blue of the sky yesterday was absolutely striking in its beauty. I can't remember when I have seen it look so gorgeous.
Today, Meg and I tried to tie up some loose ends of our visit before I leave tomorrow. I'm not anxious to get back to winter in Indiana, but there are things to do there, too. Wish me well. I don't like to fly!
Friday, February 18, 2011
Geez Louise!
I can't get over all of the media hoopla about a rain "storm" here in California! Even people on the street being interviewed about their thoughts on the weather are complaining--with a conscience. "We are spoiled in California." "I know it is colder in other parts of the country, but I can see my breath!" You get the picture. Yes, we've had rain and cooler temps here this week, and yes, there was some wind earlier in the week. Yes, there is snow in the Sierras. Yet, I'd hardly call what we've had this week as catastrophic. Daytime temps haven't dipped below 46, and I'll take a little rain over what I left in Indiana any time...and I'm not going to the Sierras!
My little vacation trip is drawing to a close. Megan is already asking if I can stay longer. I have really enjoyed my time here, but my reality is back in Indiana where my car battery is shot and there are things to do before everyone arrives on my doorstep in March. Last week when the weather was better, we ran all over the place--visited two missions, Monterey, some gardens. Ate some wonderful food (both out and at home), bought some gifts, and generally enjoyed the view, the sunshine, and the warmth. This week, with the weather not as good, we tended to other things, like my taxes, an invitation to an anniversary party for my sister and bro-in-law, some genealogy stuff, some crafty things. Meg seems to worry that I am bored. Bored? I don't think so!!! At home, there is lonely but not bored. Here, there is neither. It's all good.
This morning, I was out on the balcony checking out the weather before Meg and Denis were up. I checked behind me a time or two. Nope, no one up yet. When I decided to come in, I turned to the sliding door, and there were two goony faces looking at me. Scared me to death! It's not nice to fool Grandma!
Meg took Denis to work. I decided for us not to go anywhere today. While Meg worked on some genealogy stuff, I decided to clean out her pantry cupboard. (Why do I do these things? Her pantry is no worse than mine at home, but I don't organize the same way she does. She won't find things for a month!) It was my intention to do some other things, but (as usual) the day got away from me. I don't care! I'm on vacation...and not bored!
Last night, we sat down to watch one of my favorite movies of all time, Ben Hur. Unfortunately, the Netflix DVD of the first disk was broken. Not just a little broken...a LOT broken. We will be watching it before I leave, if Netflix comes through with a replacement. I am trying to educate my Russian son-in
Tomorrow is the Chinese New Year parade in San Francisco. Our original plan was to be there for that, but the weather forecast isn't that great, and since parking is so big a problem, we would probably have to take a commuter train and one or more trolleys to get close. (It's one of the four biggest parades in the country, supposed to last two-and-a-half hours, rain or shine.) Since I don't walk all that well anymore, and standing for a long time can also be a problem for me (and Meg's back), I THINK we have decided to stay home to watch it on TV and eat Chinese food. I'm sure it won't be nearly as exciting as actually being there, but we have to be somewhat practical... (Leave it to me to put a snafu on everything!)
Right now, we are awaiting a pizza. Normally, Meg makes homemade pizza on Fridays and she and Denis watch a movie...but we have watched movies all week. (Not sure if that makes Friday special or not.) In any case, in spite of rain, it was another good day.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
What If?
It is either a sign of my age...or my wisdom (I'm not sure which)...that I am now somewhat overly-conscious of what can go wrong. Or maybe I have just become the human embodiment of Murphy's Law that states that anything that can go wrong, WILL go wrong. I'm just so much more cautious than I used to be.
Example: When I was packing to fly to California, I put my medicines in my purse instead of my checked luggage. Why? What if my checked luggage didn't make it to California with me? I can't exactly run right out and get Metoprolol, Zocor, Plavix, and Lisinopril, now can I? The fact is, THIS trip, my luggage went exploring without me. I landed in San Jose, but my suitcase went somewhere else--maybe Denver or Chicago. It showed up late the next day, but I didn't have to do without my meds because--ha-ha!--I had them with me.
Example: Meg and I were out running around today. She was down to less than a quarter of a tank of gas--probably more than enough to pick up Denis from work and get back--but all I could think of was, "What if you get on the freeway behind an accident and have to sit there for awhile? (It could happen.) So we gassed up Hannah (her Montana) before we got home. Another potential crisis averted!
Every time I buy something like liquid laundry detergent, before it goes in my car, I am careful to check to see that the lid is on tight. (Do you??) Want to know why? Once upon a time, I had put a jug of liquid detergent on the floor of the passenger side of my then-car. It fell over on the trip home. The lid wasn't tight, and laundry goop went all over the carpet/floor mat. I cleaned it up as best I could, but the stuff had soaked in and it wasn't easy. That particular car had some kind of design flaw that developed over time. Rain water would collect in some location just under the dashboard, and if I turned a corner, at least a quart of water would spill out onto the floor in the same spot where the detergent had spilled. You can guess the rest. I had soap suds every time!
Whenever my grandson is around, I am ever-vigilant because he knocks things over just because he is a boy and doesn't pay attention to where his arms and legs are. It's a never-ending thought process of "what if?" when he's with me. He's getting better, but still...
Other things I do that indicate my What If paranoia:
1. I don't hold my glasses in my hand while leaning over the balcony at Meg's apartment.
2. I don't close my car door until I stand there a second to make sure I have the key in my hand.
3. I sleep with a phone near my bed, just in case I should become ill during the night.
4. I close the toilet lid if there is anything on the tank that could fall in.
5. I put the lid on anything that could get knocked over and create a big mess.
6. I don't drink liquids near the computer keyboard.
7. I move combustible things far away from stove burners, even if only the oven is on.
8. I never leave my hairdryer plugged in.
9. I put a lid over my can of hair spray when packing for a trip so it won't spray all over the inside of my luggage if something compresses the button when I close the luggage. (This has happened. Nothing quite so sticky as toiletries covered with hair spray!)
You get the picture. I'm either a good learner or totally whacko. I leave it up to you which it is!
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
GenealogyBles
Megan has pension records from the National Archives on a couple of relatives. We got to looking at one today: Theodore Sylvester Covill. This would be my great-grandfather on my dad's side of the family. Most of what we have by way of documents are requests for pension and increase in pension, due to disability. Why was he disabled? He had a scrotal hernia and other things, supposedly caused by his service during the Civil War. Document after document talks about "scrotal hernia", "varicocele", "varicose veins in the legs the size of hickory nuts", and two Civil War related gunshot wounds. Basically, I've read all I care to know about my great-grandpa's genitals!!
In the process of going through the stuff today, we discovered that he had 11 kids (apparently the varicocele didn't cause any sterility problems for him)...that three children were under 16 years of age when he died (a widower), and that they had been living in squalor well before great-grandma died. At least two siblings took over the care of the younger ones after he croaked...and so it went. The more I dig into these stories, the more I want to know...but there are some details that are lost to eternity. It's a shame. Everyone should write memoirs!
One of my radio friends is in the hospital getting tests for a large weight gain that is mostly water. Prayers for you, Mike!
Talked to the grandchildren this afternoon. Their Valentine package just arrived today! It took a whole week for it to be delivered??? Most of the stuff I send from Indiana to California takes two days. Not fair that they didn't get their Valentine treats on time!!
News from home made it sound like it was warmer in Indiana today than Silicon Valley. Ya know what? That's okay with me!! It was about time for the weather to break! I hope it's more than just a weather carrot-on-a-stick.
Just out of curiosity, Denis asked me if I thought I would like to live in California. It certainly is beautiful here, but my immediate answer was no. It's too far away from my grandchildren. This is going to sound stupid since I am retired and could live anywhere on the planet that I could afford, but I have established a little place on Walton Drive that is mine (until I am unable to take care of myself) and provides the grandchildren with a place they like to come to....just like my grandparents' farm was for me. Circumstances may change in the next year, but for now, I will visit California and go home to ice and snow and thunderstorms and tornadoes... Hmmm...what's wrong with this thinking???
Blessings to all who follow my blather on here. Spring is coming. Have faith!
Weather Perspective
Megan has laughed about the hysteria that happens here in California when rain is expected, but now I have seen it first-hand. For days, the local news media has predicted a "return to winter" here. To them, it means cooler temperatures and some rain. (They were calling it "heavy rain" although only forecasting 1-2 inches.) Oh yes...and there was wind. Because of the ocean and mountains, I'm not sure how they can make any blanket forecasts for the area because the weather is hugely different just a few miles down the road. (I think I might have mentioned before that we took a day trip last summer where we watched the temperature go from 72 in Sunnyvale, to 55 in San Francisco, to 90 in Napa Valley--a distance of maybe 100 miles.) In any case, the TV news had reporters stationed in various places throughout the Bay area yesterday reporting on the weather. "No rain yet." "The streets will be slick because there hasn't been any rain for two weeks to wash oil off the pavement." "Flooding on the roads is expected." (Apparently they put out "high water" signs more mere puddles on the roadways.) I shouldn't make fun because what one is used to is the norm; still, I wonder how native Californians would fare in weather like we had before I left Indiana! Amid the "return to winter" here, there are gardeners out mowing the grass...
Meg and I didn't do much yesterday. We did crochet some. (She is just learning.) We ate well, as usual. Last evening, Meg and Denis and I watched the movie "Yankee Doodle Dandy"--they for the first time. It has always been one of my favorites. Had to laugh--the whole time the movie was playing, Meg had her iPhone in hand looking up things about George M. Cohan on the Internet. Times are sure different now!
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Valentine's Day
Yesterday (Monday), Meg and I took a break from sight-seeing in order to catch up on some things at the apartment. Denis went to work, of course. Meg went grocery shopping. I stayed home to do some laundry and general housekeeping. (Trying to earn my keep, you know.) The weather has turned off cooler and overcast. It even sprinkled a little. (The TV weather people call it a "return to winter". The term "winter" around here is relative!)
On Sunday, Megan had promised to make crepes for Denis. Apparently there is some occasion in Russia during which they eat crepes for a week, and he was hungry for them. He eats them as finger food, slathered with sour cream and jam. Meg asked him what he wanted for Monday (Valentine's Day), and he asked for crepes again! This time, she filled the crepes with scrambled eggs, cheese, and crumbled bacon. Good stuff!
We made the table a little special by changing the tablecloth and adding candles. Meg made pink champagne out of champagne and grenadine. She fixed homemade chocolate-covered strawberries, and little individual Jello poke cakes with whipped cream icing and one heart-shaped strawberry on top. And, of course, there were the filled crepes and plenty of unfilled ones for Denis to dip in jam and sour cream. (Even leftovers for lunch today--putting crepes on his menu for three days in a row.) Denis ate like there was no tomorrow! He eats happily, making little cooing noises while doing so. There is something quite satisfying about cooking for someone who likes to eat and enjoys what is offered. I think it's a good thing that Denis runs a couple of miles every day or he would be huge!
The kids gave me a fancy box of candy turtles and a brand new wireless Microsoft mouse. (My mouse at home is failing. Megan got some fancy speakers for her computer. Denis got a couple of Monterey Bay t-shirts and his fancy dinner. It was a pleasant low-key kind of Valentine's Day. Haven't heard if the grandchildren got their package or not... (We sent them personalized M&Ms--with their pictures and names on the candies, cards, and heart-shaped sunglasses, from three households. The M&Ms weren't cheap!)
Megan has physical therapy today. She's not real fond of that...
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Sunday in Sunnyvale
Woke up this morning to major fog in the valley. No Santa Cruz Mountains to be seen. The sun finally burned that off and it was lovely, but this is the first day that we have actually had clouds and cool. Rain due tomorrow. Rain? In Sunnyvale? Oh, no!
Meg still laughs. In the Midwest, we get weather advisories for severe thunderstorms, high winds, flooding, or ice/snow. Here in Silicon Valley, rain is sufficiently rare that weather alerts are given just for that. "Alert! It will rain tomorrow!" That sort of thing... (I think a half-inch is expected...somewhere. In California, where you are determines what you will get. Last summer, I watched the climate change by 35 degrees by location within 100 miles.) Attached to the alert, according to Meg, was another warning that streets/roads could be slippery due to lack of precipitation to wash oil and rubber off the surfaces. 'Tis true, but we usually don't think of it back home because usually the weather takes care of that for us.
Megan and Denis and I drove to Stanford University today just to nose around. Now I can say I've been there... We wanted to get out of the car but couldn't find a place to park. At one place, a sign said visitor parking could be obtained in a lot to the left...but when we got in there, it seemed that the only way out was to drive on sidewalks. Obviously not the right thing to do!
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From there, we drove to Atherton, CA, which (according to Denis) is touted as the most expensive place to live in the country. I was unimpressed...
We came home to go feed the ducks across the street. They were greedy, as usual.
Tomorrow, we/I need to stay home to do laundry and tidy up the place. We have lots of little projects that can be done...crocheting, cross-stitch, etc... If I don't get some laundry done, I'll be running around in my robe all day. Not a pretty sight!
The news from home is that things are melting and that my car battery is dead. I have become so spoiled by the climate here that I HOPE things are better when I return home in a little over a week. Come on, spring!!
Saturday in SF
Megan and Denis and I braved driving to San Francisco to see some of the sights. (Megan deserves an award for driving. That place has crazy streets and traffic!) I've been to SF before but have never really done the city on foot.
First of all, SF has its own climate and cultures. Unlike back home, there are really no parking lots or parking garages. If you want to see the sights, you have to find a metered spot on the street--and good luck with that! Meg was trying to find a place closer to what we wanted to see to accommodate my age and walking abilities. It wasn't easy! Then, too, the streets in SF are quite hilly and steep--up or down, depending on where you are--and the buildings are right on the street. Unless parked on level ground (which is rare), cars are parked with their front wheels turned. (Facing downhill, they are turned to the right; uphill, to the left. This supposedly helps prevent runaway cars by allowing cars to roll into curbs instead of whatever is ahead.) There are little "toilet" stations every couple of blocks--permanent potties. Because of the vehicle congestion and lack of parking, everyone is either on foot or on bicycle. Getting around simply isn't easy!
Meg finally found a spot in the Castro District (the gay community) where we started out. We fed the meter, then headed out to look for a place to eat lunch. It was a beautiful day in SF--sunny and in the 60s--and the folks on the street reflected that, in their tank tops and shorts. (It is generally 10 degrees colder and somewhat windier in SF than farther inland, so the "guys" were enjoying the reprieve.) We stopped at the Baghdad Cafe to eat and people-watch. Everyone was out with their dogs and significant others. People, people, people all out on the street. Gays everywhere. These weren't "flaming" gays--just your normal, average kind of guys out enjoying the sunshine, holding hands and picking up snacks here and there. When I noticed that not all of the gays were young, Denis said something like, "Yes, there is nothing quite as charming as a gay geezer." Ha! There was one fellow out on the street in a flamboyant costume that resembled a colorful nun in full face paint and bejeweled, handing out "arson alert" flyers. Apparently The Castro experienced three arson fires within an hour, a week or two ago. The flyer urged people to be vigilant and report suspicious activity. It was all just...different and interesting.
After we finished lunch, we walked to a store called Hot Cookies where my daughter got some sort of perverse pleasure in buying her saintly mother a chocolate-covered macaroon in the shape of a phallus and testicles. The cookie was good, but I felt a little odd eating it!
Back at the car, we started another adventure in driving in crazy SF. We drove through the Haight-Ashbury District (of 60s and 70s Hippie fame). Thought about trying to find a place to park so we could tour on foot, but this area was just as congested as The Castro, so we just gawked from the car.
Next was a cruise down Lombard Street (the Crookedest Street in America). It is a kind of connection between two other major streets but with a steep downhill grade that requires short little switchbacks--about seven of them, I think--lined with apartments on either side and well- planted with flowers. From the top is a gorgeous view of the city below, but it terrified me! On all of the streets in the hillier sections of town, all I could think of was "I hope the car's brakes hold out" or "I hope the car can make it up this hill". There is no turning back! Meg calls it two-footed driving, where you have to be applying gas to the engine before you take your foot off the brakes going up. Going down, you keep your foot on the brake pedal and pray a lot!
We drove next to Golden Gate Park, which is HUGE. Found a place to park (again, on the street) and walked to the Japanese Tea Garden there. Very nice and peaceful, complete with pagodas, bridges, stone lanterns, a Buddha statue, and little pools with big goldfish. By this time, the display areas of the park were shutting down for the day, so we decided to head for home.
Instead of going home the way we came, Meg drove us to Ocean Beach. There, in all its glory, was the mighty Pacific. We parked and stood at the top of the hill to watch the sun set and take pictures. The fog was moving in to the right and left of us, but straight ahead was a gorgeous sunset (and crazy surfers heading into the ocean as it was getting dark--and cold!). The drive home followed the coastline. We crossed the Santa Cruz Mountains by way of Half Moon Bay, then hit the freeway to Sunnyvale. The trip seemed to take forever, but what I could see of it as it grew dark was rugged and beautiful. Scenery isn't lacking in this state!
San Francisco is definitely an experience. I suppose somewhere in the outskirts are free-standing dwellings, but in town, all of the residences are old apartment buildings built right on the street. At that level, there are garage doors, but residents have to go UP stairs--three to four stories--in order to get to their apartments And the buildings are all attached. There are no yards. No grass to mow. Along some of the mountainsides are residences, one after the other, that are exactly the same. Only the colors on the outside are different--some brightly painted in pinks and blues and purples and greens. (Megan tells me that the old song "Little Boxes on the Hillside" was written about those places--"little boxes made of ticky-tacky, and they all look just the same".)
We came home tired. Meg breathed a sigh of relief that she got us there and back in one piece. We ate a little supper and watched a PBS program about the 1906 SF earthquake, then hit the sack. Busy day!
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Easter
Easter will be really late this year...late in April. So much later than in other years. It won't be anywhere close to spring break, so I suppose I won't get to be with my grandchildren for the holiday. I'm trying not to worry about that right now, but it bothers me.
Need to hit the sack. It seems that we are going to San Francisco tomorrow. Lots to see and do, if we can manage it all!
Nightie!
Friday, February 11, 2011
Friday (Again)
When Megan came home from PT, I was working on laundry. She said we needed to go grocery shopping so I should get dressed, but I plopped down on the couch and asked for "just a few minutes" to doze. I fell fast asleep. I'm not sure how long I was out, but I woke up startled, not knowing where I was or what day or time it was. I looked around and discovered that Meg, too, had taken a nap. Apparently, I needed it.
By the time I was dressed and presentable, it was probably about 3:00. We drove (not far) to Palo Alto (of Stanford University fame) to go to the Elizabeth Gamble Gardens. (Gamble...as in Proctor and Gamble.) The house (huge) and gardens were donated to Palo Alto after Ms. Gamble's death in the 80s. We were definitely in the high rent district! I was more impressed with the other houses in the area than I was with the gardens, which were quite nice. While there, I saw a hummingbird and black squirrels eating magnolia tree blossoms. Can't spend too long in those places before envy arrives!
After the gardens, we shopped for some groceries, then picked Denis up, then stopped at another store for some other things. Home for their traditional homemade pizza and a movie.
I'm still tired. I think the week has caught up with me!
Rebellious Vehicles
Megan's mini-van tried to eat me yesterday! Her assigned parking spot in the underground garage at the apartment complex is between a neighbor's car and two pillars, so it's tight. As we were getting in the buggy yesterday morning, Meg opened one of the van's sliding doors so I could put some stuff in the back seat, but then the door shut on me! Turns out that the back edge of the door hit one of the posts upon opening and decided to shut itself...but I was in the way. Meg quickly opened it again when she heard me yell...but then it started to close again...only I was out of the way the second time. Whew!
Later, as we were leaving the mission, Megan tried to put the key in the lock but discovered that there was something in the keyhole. Apparently this is the first time she has ever tried to use the key in the lock since she's had the vehicle (several years now). Of course, my first thought was to think of other ways to get in the van in case the automatic opener should fail. No problem...just open the passenger door, or the hatch in the back...but NOOOoooooo! The driver door is the ONLY door on the vehicle with a keyhole! So now we probably need to tackle the problem before some malfunction locks her out of her vehicle in some inconvenient place. Don't have a clue where to begin on that!
My neighbor in Indiana reported to me in email this morning that my car battery is dead. I had left him a key and asked if he could start the buggy every couple of days because it had been reluctant to start when I left. Unfortunately, it has been bitter cold at home. I suppose if the battery was already weak, it is done now! Sooo...looks like my first task when I get home is determined for me.
Not sure what we are going to do today. Megan has gone to physical therapy. I'm thinking we need to clean and do laundry. Just having one extra person in the apartment can really mess things up...and I am the extra person! More later...
Thursday
Denis woke up this morning saying that he felt "healthy" and was going to work! He claimed that having "two women" take care of him cured him. Ha! I did nothing! He had a presentation to give. I think that's what cured him! The rest of the day proved to be no problem to him. Why a "flash" fever? I have no clue!
When Meg got home from taking him to work, we packed a box of Valentine goodies--personalized M&Ms, cards, and heart-shaped sunglasses, to send to the grandchildren. Then we took off for Monterey. Megan's back is bad, and my legs aren't much better, so we nosed around a bit and then settled at Demenico's on the Wharf for "lunch". I lost leave of my senses and ordered the most expensive thing on the menu (at Megan's encouragement). The bill, without tip, came to over $85!! We won't be doing that again...but I have to tell you that those Alaskan King crab legs were very, very good! We saw some seals and some sea otters in the wild...and of course, all kinds of sea birds.
Late in the afternoon, we went to yet another mission near Monterey. (The Basilica of San Carlos Borromeo del Rio Carmelo.) Beautiful! I bought another rosary for my grandchildren and blessed them with holy water from the sanctuary there. I hope my grandchildren appreciate what was done for them this day because it sure meant a lot to me!!
We picked up Denis late from work, then watched a Russian movie with sub-titles. Now it's time for bed!!
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Poor Denis
My son-in-law called to be picked up from work early today. He had the chills and was not feeling well. As the afternoon has progressed, he's developed a fever. It hasn't really affected his appetite yet, but he just obviously is not up to par. He didn't have to get sick on my account!
Yesterday, I wrote that Megan and I had stopped at a park that I called "Bayside". The real name is Bayland. Mea culpa!
I saw more of residential Sunnyvale yesterday. California is a different planet. Because of the climate (short rainy season and mild arid times the rest of the year--which my daughter tells me is labeled "Mediterranean"), and because of earthquake threats, homes here are low to the ground, built VERY close together, and have no yards...yet they are quite expensive. Yards, such as they are, are fenced and postage-stamp-sized. (Water is scarce, so sprinkling grass is frowned on if not forbidden...so not much lawn to take care of!) Here (in Silicon Valley, at least) there just don't seem to be any amenities for children. I mean, there are children...but with no yards and not much by way of play parks, etc., I'm not sure how people entertain their kids. In richer areas where people have more money than sense, perhaps there is more. I just don't see it here. Lots of apartment-dwellers whose rent is three times my house payment!
Of course, there is a trade-off. I can live comfortably in the Midwest, but then I have to suffer through the winter. The week before coming here, Indiana had an ice storm that kept me in the house almost a week. The days here are mild with cloudless skies and starry nights. Palm trees. Flowers. Shirtsleeve weather in the middle of winter. But it isn't "home". So maybe I need to figure out what "home" means. It has always been important to me--maybe more so for me than for others because I didn't really have a place called that for much of my life as a young'un.
Megan and I were going to go to Monterey tomorrow to explore, but since Denis is sick, we might not. Playing the day by ear. Making up a Valentine package to send to the children. I miss them!!!!!
TuesdayWe
Yesterday (Monday) we spent a fairly lazy day around the apartment. Meg had a class and I was quite tired. We were content just to just hang out.
Today, Tuesday, Megan went to physical therapy for a back/leg problem. I was our plan to crochet some things for the children for Valentine's Day, but we had errands to run...blah, blah. In short, we never did get the crochet projects. Instead, we went to a park called Bayside here in Sunnyvale and ran errands in order to fix traditional Russian foods for the man of the house. It was quite a bit cooler today with a bit of a breeze, but there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Still shirtsleeve weather here.
Bayside is mostly a park that has been made out of a slough created by levees that prevent floods from the San Francisco Bay area. The water is low now so there isn't much to see. There is a walkway that has been built over the brackish water areas so the public can view the wildlife, etc...but not much is going on now. Still, we walked through a planted garden to determine the names of some native plants. Interesting.
From there, we drove to a Russian store to pick up some things, then to Target to pick up even more. By the time we got home, Meg was astonished at how late it was, so she started on supper.
Supper was quite labor-intensive. Meg, (with only a little help from me) fixed three kinds of "dumplings". They are basically meat-filled raviolis, the only difference being how they are cooked. Manti is steamed; peroshki is baked; pelmeti is boiled. In any case, she was in quite a bit of back pain, so we did the best we could. When she picked Denis up from work, dinner was mostly done. OMG! I can't remember the last time I have seen a man eat with such relish! Denis loved it!! Of course, we had dirtied up just about every pan in the place...
Fixing the manti was a bit of a problem. Megan was working from Denis's mother's recipe in Russian. We had to ask him to translate the night before. His translation included "lemon acid that needs to be diluted" and "salt and paper". Bless his heart! "We" got it done and he enjoyed every bite. Whew!
Megan is trying to entertain me while I am here. What she doesn't understand is that the sunshine and warmth are all I need, considering the circumstances at home. In the meantime, I consider it my duty to indoctrinate my son-in-law in American ways. In short, he has been "forced" to watch movies that I consider classics. Over New Years in Indiana, he watched "Fiddler on the Roof". Sunday night in California, we watched "The Russians are Coming! The Russians are Coming!" Last night, we watched "West Side Story." And tonight we watched "Little Shop of Horrors." Heck...I can't even get US citizens to watch some of those...but Denis has and never complained!
I have so much more to write about California "culture" and things that I've seen, but it is very late and I need to hit the sack. May God bless my Indiana friends who are enduring ice and snow and bitter cold while I am gone. Keep the faith. I'm thinking that first 45-degree day forecast for the weekend may spell the end of the winter misery. Please????
Monday, February 7, 2011
First Full Day in CA
Yesterday (Sunday) Megan and Denis and I headed south to a quaint little town called San Juan Bautista (St. John the Baptist) to visit a very old Spanish mission. It was a gorgeous day in Central California--perfect for the day's escapades.
By way of history: the missions were established to bring Christianity (Catholicism) to the natives. They were outposts on the frontier that included a church, gardens, cemeteries, grazing areas for animals, granaries, monateries, and housing for workers, etc. In short, they were somewhat self-contained and self-supporting. The missions in California were Spanish. Buildings have all of the traditional trappings of Spanish architecture, from tiled roofs to arches, built of adobe bricks and stucco, with wood trimmings. The missions were small villages around which towns grew up. The town of San Juan Bautista takes its name from the mission and probably wouldn't exist without it.
We parked on the street of San Juan Bautista near the mission. The first sound we heard was the crowing of roosters. People had chickens in their yards!
Some observations and highlights of the day:
1. The mission looked exactly as I had pictured an old Spanish mission in my mind. Not only is this one old, it even LOOKS old. The floors are wooden planks except in the church sanctuary where the floors are like cobblestone tiles.
2. The mission of San Juan Bautista (SJB) was established in 1797 and was never abandoned. Mass has been held there every day for 213 years!
2. SJB Mission was built mere yards from the San Andreas Fault! I practically stood on the fault, myself. Through the centuries, earthquakes have damaged the mission but not destroyed it.
3. Just a few yards below the fault is the only remaining piece of the original mission road, El Camino Real, that linked missions through 600 miles of California. It's not much more than a path!
4. Every Sunday at 3:00 PM, a full mass is celebrated in Latin at SJB. We were there when that began. A woman in traditional headcovering closed the door to the sanctuary while someone rang the mission bells calling the faithful to worship. I'm not sure why, but hearing those bells made me weep. (Why am I such a sentimental slob these days??)
5. The mission cemetery, which is directly outside the doors of the sanctuary, is quite small...but the brochure says there are over 4,000 burials there. There are only a few wooden crosses. Hope the church has records of who is buried because otherwise, no one would know!
6. After mass was over, we slipped into the sanctuary to see it. It is the only place in the mission that seems to have been kept up in terms of paint and decoration.
7. There is a certain amount of reverence involved in touring a place of that age and purpose. In addition to being a significant historical landmark, it is also a place of worship--the parish church for the Catholic residents of SJB, California.
8. The garden had orange trees with fruit on them, huge cactus plants, blooming rose bushes, chickens scratching in the dirt. It wasn't a polished place. It looked like an old mission!
After we saw everything that we wanted to see, we went back to the tiny gift store where I bought a couple of rosaries for my grandchildren. I should have hailed the priest to bless them when I could, but he got away from me. (Interesting, the priest isn't Spanish at all. He's Irish. Father Fitz-Henry, to be exact. He must speak Spanish, though, because at least one of the masses is in Spanish.)
We walked a block away from the mission to the business district. There were a couple of bars that were rocking with Superbowl spectators. We stopped at an ice cream shop and treated ourselves. If we'd had more time, I would have liked to explore the town a little more. I seemed very quaint!
We stopped at a Walmart on the way back, then ate supper at an Applebee's. It was a very interesting day for me...and I'm sure loving the warm weather and sunshine!
I know, I know...To
As reluctant as I was to leave home to fly in the height of a snowstorm...blah, blah...I am in sunny California and loving every second of this warmth and sunshine!!!!!
Okay...so, the weather forecast on Friday said we MIGHT get a half-inch of snow on fly-day Saturday. The snow wasn't supposed to hit until after 7:00 AM. My flight to California was due to depart at 10:10 AM, so I figured I was safe. Au contraire! When I got up at 5:30 Saturday morning, it was already snowing, and it wasn't slowing down. I kept checking on an Indianapolis Airport Authority website. It seemed that flights were departing, so I held out hope. Still, as it got closer to the time for my friends to pick me up for a ride to the airport, it was snowing like crazy...and my driveway was still encased in solid ice from a storm days before. We probably already had two inches of new precip on the ground and still coming down. I donned my snow boots and met Judy and Phil at the curb with my luggage. The roads hadn't really been touched by snowplows. It wasn't a fun trip to the airport, but it happened!
Let's see if I can spell out the rest of the day, succinctly.
1. Got through security with no problems.
2. Plane boarded.
3. We just got on and got seated when the pilot announced that there was something mechanically wrong with the plane. We would either be offered a "new plane" or have to wait for a mechanic and parts. De-planed. "Please take a seat and wait for further word."
4. Awhile later, it was announced that there would be a new plane, but that it wouldn't arrive until 2:40. People groaned. I called Megan to tell her the news. I was concerned that a later departure was going to result in canceled flights because it was still snowing like mad.
5. The agents at the service desk started calling people up by final destination in order to try to accommodate connecting flights. Only one other person was going to San Jose. The agent decided to send us to California through Chicago Midway instead of Denver. That flight was boarding RIGHT NOW. I was the last person on the plane.
6. I called Megan to give her the news only 12 minutes after the last call.
7. Flight to Chicago took less than an hour but was quite delayed before departure due to the need to de-ice the plane. I worried about the connecting flight to San Jose from there.
8. De-planed in Chicago and went right to the gate for the next flight which was already boarding.
9. Once on board, I asked the flight attendant what time we would arrive in San Jose. He said, "We are going to Orange County." I must have looked shocked because he smiled and said, "THEN we are going to San Jose." Whew! I called Megan from my seat before take-off to give her my new flight number. I hadn't figured on TWO connecting flights.
10. The longest leg of the trip lasted just over five hours. The last leg was an hour and 15 minutes, with beautiful scenery below.
11. Landed in San Jose on time for that flight. Considering a disable plane, connections, de-icing and all, I came down to Paradise only about and hour-and-a-half later than originally planned. Not bad!!
12. The only bad part was that my checked bag did not arrive with me. I placed a claim and we waited at home for the last two incoming flights in case it showed up...but it didn't. That meant a trip out to pick up a few things that I needed. To bed (very late) in an effort to make up for jet lag.
Today, Sunday--now Monday to most of you reading this--my bag was recovered and has been returned to me. I will have to fill you in on the day's activities tomorrow, if you are interested. It's quite late, so I need to hit the sack.
My biggest post script to all of this is that the weather here the last two days has been absolutely fantastic. While in Indiana, I was shut in the house for close to a week due to weather. Ice storm. Snow storm. Not fun. I really, really needed this break in climatic circumstances and don't regret leaving Indiana a bit. Sorry, folks! It won't last forever, but for now, it is saving me from cabin fever and depression!!!!
Friday, February 4, 2011
California, Here I Come!
For an ice storm post-mortem, I can only say that I have made three attempts over four days to free my car from several inches of ice. I have only been marginally successful. The driveway and sidewalks are a lost cause. There is tree trash everywhere. Schools were closed for an unheard of fourth day today. Most roads are in good shape, but parking lots and sidewalks aren't, and people simply can't get out of their own driveways. (Like me.) Several streets in Indy have been closed due to falling ice. Roofs are collapsing. Digging out from snow is one thing; digging out from several inches of ice is quite something else. And it's not over yet. Snow due to arrive tomorrow with more on Monday. I am praying for a window. *What window? I am due to fly to Denver in the morning, then on to San Jose, California. My daughter assures me that the temp will be 70 when I get there. I am packed. I am ready for warmer climes! I haven't been off the property since early Monday. (Thank GOD I prepared to be in for awhile!) It is now Friday. Please, God, let my flight happen tomorrow! I feel guilty about leaving my car and my property in the shape that it's in, but even if I stayed home it would look the same. There is simply no way I could even make a dent in the carnage. The police and my neighbors will be looking after the place for me. I just want to come home to dry ground and a hint of spring. *My next post will be from Sunnyvale, CA. I hope. :)
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Winter Sounds
I live seven miles from Indianapolis International Airport; about a mile-and-a-half north of a busy interstate highway; and on a relatively busy intersection of two streets in Plainfield, Indiana. Normally, the birds are chirping, the dogs are barking, and there are planes, trucks, cars, and motorcycles to give sound to the neighborhood. My, how this week's weather has changed all of that! *You know how muffled the world sounds when it's snowing? Even the tires on the roadways are quiet. Well, I'm here to tell you that ice storms are different! Monday afternoon and evening, we were getting rain which froze. Every twig and blade of glass was coated with almost a half-inch of ice. There were no cars on the road, no planes in the air, no dogs outside to bark. Even the birds were hiding from the storm. It was eerily quiet in a hollow sort of way. I stood outside my back door to look at the crystalline world. It was then I heard the not-so-quiet ice storm sounds. The encrusted branches rattled. Every few seconds, things would snap and pop. Every few minutes, a tree branch would hit the ground. (The last one I heard before I shut the door on the frightening outside noises sounded like a big one. There was a long craaaa-a-a-ack, rattle-rattle-rattle, thud.) *Then I came in to the INSIDE sounds. Since my house is built on a cement slab, there are no floor creaks. Once in awhile, one of the doors will squeak, but basically this is a quiet home. Not so in this storm! There were things hitting the wall air conditioner in my bedroom. Things hitting the roof. At one point, my lights flickered and I heard a BOOM. (The boom might have been one of my garbage cans that blew over in the wind. I'm not sure.) I heard things that I have never heard in this little house in the entire 19 years I've lived here. Through it all, I prayed and prayed that the power would stay on...and it did! (It did go out during the night for awhile, but was back on before I even noticed.) *At one point, I was feeling somewhat sorry for myself for having to endure the storm alone, worried about what would happen if something horrific occurred--like a tree falling on my house or car--but at the same time, I was grateful that the children weren't here for me to worry more. (They endured a blizzard where they are, but they have a fireplace, etc., for auxiliary heat.) *My sister reports that they have huge snow drifts in Springfield, IL. Guess they have finally dug out, but the winds persist. Schools here have been out for two days. I look for them to be out for tomorrow, too. We'll see. In the meantime, we aren't out of the woods yet. As long as there is ice on trees and wind to blow them around, we could still lose power. I'm crossing my fingers, crossing my body, saying my prayers, and hoping that the weather gods will finally give up. My trip to California--if it actually happens--will carve two weeks of pleasant temperatures out of the worst month of the year in the Midwest. I'm hoping to return to the "down" side of winter. Anyone with any romantic notion of how snug and cozy an ice storm is merely needs to TRY to walk to the mailbox or get the icicle of a car cleaned off. Good luck!