Several months ago Meghann asked me if I would have any interest in taking care of Roscoe for a few days in mid-September so that she could attend the wedding of one of her high school friends in Buffalo, New York. Of course I immediately agreed. And the plan evolved from there. We decided that [...]
Would you believe that it has taken me almost Two months to gather photos from every one involved in our Family Vacay. I’m still waiting on a few stragglers, but have decided to go ahead and post anyway.
In mid-July we rented a cabin in the White Mountains. Meghann, Roscoe, Katie, Henry and Weezy flew into Phoenix [...]
(F.Y.I. - “Ojai” is pronounced “Oh Hi”) So this is a very clever title. And you all know who “Our Guy” is - none other than our wonderful grandson, Roscoe William Roberts. Tom and I left at 5:30 a.m. yesterday morning to drive to Ojai, California to spend some time with Carol and Mike, Roscoe’s other grandparents. They have a beautiful home in the mountains near this quaint little town. They have buffalo, horses, dogs, cats and even a tractor. It’s a very fun place to visit - and we laugh a lot. Katie and Henry arrived last night from the bay area, and Scott’s sister, Stacey and her husband John are arriving today. Shortly after we arrived, we hit a local winery for a wine-tasting experience. That kinda set the tone for the weekend. We tasted one of the best of sauvignon blancs I have ever tasted.
Today we have shopping in Ojai planned and I think we’re going to get the Big Irishman on the tractor. After all, he must earn his keep. Scooping Buffalo woopoodies is a nasty job, but someone has to do it. My contribution will be sitting on the fence and posing in my new western wear - boots, chaps, spurs and a cowboy hat. I must say - cowgirl Shanlee paints a very tantalizing picture. I’m sure the next few days will generate many wonderful memories as well and several thousand pictures. I’ll be posting periodically to share these “good times” with you.
Before I sign off, I want to share a few pics from Roscoe’s first visit to Arizona. Meghann and Scott are doing an incredible job of providing “Little Dude” (as his dad calls him) with many experiences. I think that often first-time parents have a tendency to cocoon their babies at home. Meghann and Scott take Roscoe everywhere - restaurants, on car trips, shopping, and yes, even wineries. (He prefers REDS.) Their willingness to put up with the minor equipment hassles involved when ”cruisin” with a baby is really paying off. Roscoe is an incredibly good baby and adapts to almost any situation.
A delightful centerpiece for Grandmov’s table.
His Holiness, Pope Roscoe William I.
Aunt Esther tells Roscoe a story while Grandpav listens.
Uncle Patrick tells Roscoe all about chicks.
The Big Irishman just got up and these are his first words to us,
“You can’t drink all day if you don’t start in the morning.”
Christmas carols are everywhere - in stores, at the dentists office, even in the parking lot at Walmart. I really enjoy Christmas carols. I’m not sure I’d want to listen to them year round, but for six weeks a year they are rather enjoyable. Some Christmas songs are beautiful (Silent Night) and some are just plain silly - who would want a hippo for Christmas? Have you ever seen the size of a hippo woopooties? But there is one particular carol that leaves me wondering every time I hear it. What in the world do leaping lords, French hens, swimming swans and that damn partridge stuck in a tree have to do with Christmas? I became almost obsessed with answering this question. I made the decision to find answers. Consequently, I have spoken to some of the world’s foremost authorities on Christmas. I have spent the last several days perusing vast tomes. (I’ve always wanted to say ”vast tomes”) I made the decision to find answers. So allow me to enlighten you.
LEAPING LORDS: Apparently in the year 1532, in a small city in rural Rakaboozehstan, 17 noblemen were served some bad fruit cake at an official state dinner. Everything was okay until the wine stopped flowing freely and the plumbing backed up. When their peristaltic rushes (stomach cramps) became compelling, they were forced to “Leap” over the mote to use the facilities at a neighboring castle. So there you have it - “Leaping Lords” explained.
FRENCH HENS: The explanation is simple. The guy who wrote this song was terribly hung over while composing this song, and six of his front teeth had been knocked out in a bar fight the night before. He meant to say French “HORNS.”
SWIMMING SWANS: I’m not gonna even explain this one. What the hell are swans supposed to do? Maybe we should sing “swans a snorkeling” or “swans a sipping slurpees.”
THE PARTRIDGE: History tells us that hundreds of years ago in a suburb of Chicago called “Dumbville,” the Tivo family was snuggled under down comforters watching reruns of “The Partridge Family.” After the 38th episode, the father, Trenton Tivo, apparently freaked out and grabbed the family’s, pet partridge, Peerpont, placed him at the top of the Christmas tree, and began shooting with an AK-47. The partridge was unharmed, but refused to leave his lofty perch for years. I think that the “pear” reference was originally “poor.” After all, a Christmas tree that is left up year after year could most assuredly be referred to as “poor.”
Well - now you know. The next time your hear this particular carol, you will possess a modicum of understanding of its actual meaning.
Last night Tom and I returned from a trip to Santa Fe. We spent four days visiting Dr. Dan and Elaine. Elaine was Tom’s partner before she retired. They have a gorgeous home and are incredibly gracious hosts. We ate and ate and ate. We laughed and laughed and laughed. When we weren’t eating or laughing, we were shopping. Here is a photo of a large metal cow that the Big Irishman was absolutely certain he couldn’t live without.
On Saturday we drove to Taos to go to a gallery where our friend Cami is showing some of her beautiful paintings. After finding several pieces that we must have, we went to Cami and John’s house for a fabulous lunch prepared by John.
We had a wonderful time - great food, great conversation and beautiful surroundings.
On Sunday afternoon we shopped at The Flea Market. What an experience! Local artists and importers display and sell their wares. Needless to say, we bought several items with a decidedly Southwestern flair. Today I spent most of the day arranging and rearranging all my new pretties.
During our Flea Market adventure we met a most unusual lady. Have you ever met someone who seems magical as well as mystical? Well, Sister Max, an ordained Buddhist Nun, is probably the most spiritual individual I have ever met. She was selling exquisite Indian imports. She spoke very slowly and quietly and her words truly traveled to my soul. She seemed to have an aura around her and her words and touch were the purest and gentlest I have ever experienced. I don’t know why, but meeting her profoundly impacted me. Perhaps someday, I will discover the message she was meant to deliver to me. She gave us an extremely serene picture of the Dali Lama. Today I framed it and placed it on our bathroom counter. Maybe if HE is the first and last image we see every day, we will learn to be more serene and accepting of the pathways we must walk.
Last week I was preparing to post a wonderful Blog when the phone rang. A voice that I immediately recognized said, “Is this Shanlee?” It was none other than Al Frankin - calling from Minnesota. He said that he really enjoyed the songs I had written for the DIXIE CHICKS. He then asked if I would have any interest in writing speeches for him. (He is running for Congress.) Needless to say, I dropped everything and jumped on a plane for Dream World, Minnesota. After several days on the campaign trail, I had an epiphany. It dawned on me that my primary creative responsibility is to my dear Blog readers. I carefully explained my situation to Al and he seemed to understand. Sooooo, here I am - very committed to daily (at least more frequent) posting.
While on the road, I stopped in southern California for a weekend to help Meghann look for an apartment.
We found an incredible deal. This apartment has been gutted and everything is totally new - paint, carpet, awnings, appliances, bathroom fixtures and windows. The complex is beautiful and VERY quiet. Noise level (or lack there of) will be very important because Meghann will be working from home. This is the living room - very light and airy.
This is the deck off the living room, and also shows the outside of the dining room. All rooms have windows on two walls. I feel that an upstairs apartment is always safer.
This is the new kitchen. The workmen were finishing the stone floor. There’s great cupboard space.
Here is Meghann and Scott’s front door. We may need to dump the fake flowers. Carol and Stacey, Scott’s mom and sister, joined us on our search for the perfect apartment. Carol and I both got a very good feeling when we found this place. We agree that it will be a great place for our kids to live.
The landscaping is beautiful and very well maintained. Lush plantings are everywhere you look. WOW.
These are the neighbor kids. There is a narrow lake that runs through the entire property. These kids can be found on or near the lake 24/7. That’s the end of my tour. The big move will happen on April 20th. I will be driving with Meghann from Salt Lake to Irvine. Scott is defending his doctoral dissertation on April 18th. He has accepted a post doctorate at U C Irvine. I will be holding their cat (one of my four-legged grandchildren) on my lap for 13 hours. Say a prayer.
Last Friday afternoon the Big Irishman and I loaded Mary Lou, Esther, and various accouterments (love that word) into the van and set off for Long Beach, California for a visit with Tom’s mom, Virginia. His Christmas present to her was a “Fix It Weekend.” The trip was uneventful, except for the fact that Esther threw up all over her blanket before we even passed through the gate of our neighborhood. Consequently, she refused to have anything to do with said blanket and insisted upon riding in my lap for the entire trip. Keep in mind that my little doggie daughter weighs 65 pounds and IS NOT CONSIDERED A LAP DOG. At last count I had 9, 651 bruises between my knees and hips. Mary Lou traveled very well. She sat quietly in the back either making potholders or reading. We ran into some terrible traffic going through Riverside, and were very happy to finally arrive.
The next morning we had an organizational meeting with Mom and perused her “Fix It List.” I think she planned a visiting weekend rather than a working weekend because her list was very short.
The first order of business was a trip to Home Depot for supplies. It took us several minutes to select a new doorbell. We couldn’t decide between wired or wireless. Tom really wanted one that could be programed to play the Notre Dame fight song, but I talked him out of it.
We also had to go up and down every isle looking for possible components to correct a major problem with Mom’s fire place. It is gas, but must be turned on by turning a little knob that is located deep within the fireplace. We all worried that Mom might topple head-first into the fiery abyss should she attempt to turn it on herself. We all also agreed that she would really enjoy a fire on cold winter evenings. A professional little black knob turner had provided a quote of over $1,000.00 to install something she could manage. When Tom heard the dollar amount his face turned red and those veins in his neck began to protrude and throb dangerously. He was determined to invent something else. And he was very successful. He fabricated “a turning-on system” that would make any engineer proud - all for $11.73. We had to make a second trip to Home Depot on Monday because slight modifications to his invention became necessary. You see - the entire apparatus melted. But now design changes have been made, and Mom is enjoying her fires every evening.
Did I tell you that the new wireless doorbell plays eight notes and would remind one of church bells?
Sunday night we prepared a family dinner of elk spaghetti to celebrate some terrific news. Kristy (our beloved God Daughter) and her wonderful Chris became engaged.
I can’t even begin to tell you how thrilled we are about this wonderful addition to our family. Chris is a great guy and they are a perfect compliment for one another.
We also had the pleasure of meeting niece Charlotte’s beau for the first time. His name is A.J. and he is also a wonderful addition to the fam. He’s very good looking and has a super personality. However, I do think during future visits, he must spend some time on the AZW’s lap getting his politics straightened out. Ha.
I think our “Fix It Weekend” was a huge success on several levels. Mom - start making a list for the next time.
On Saturday Tom and I traveled to Tucson for the annual Transplant Reunion. It was a very interesting day for me. In the car on the way down, I was really agitated and uncomfortable for some reason. It didn’t help that you-know-who lectured me about economics and my political views for over an hour. Sometimes he talks at me as though I’m six years old and don’t understand the basics of capitalism and economics. Perhaps he has forgotten that it was ME who taught HIM the most important concept of all - If you still have checks, you still have money.
I must say that as we turned into the parking lot of University Medical Center, a sense, almost a sense of dread, came over me. I still can’t explain it. It was very strange. Soon I was having a great time greeting old friends. It was pretty awesome to realize that every person in this huge auditorium was in some involved in the transplant process - recipients, doctors, nurses, coordinators, absolutely everyone. There were even two donor families in attendance. I received the 718th heart in Dr. Copeland’s program. Last Thursday #752 received her new heart. Probably one of the most poignant moments was when the coordinators read each name and the date of his/her transplant - both heart and lung. The buffet was heart healthy, hospital food - need I say more? (Actually it was quite good.)
I’ve spent the last four days in quiet reflection. I think I’m just overwhelmed thinking about the whole experience again. Some of the scary things are beginning to surface.
I can’t believe the Republican party is ripping John Kerry to shreds about a botched joke. Maybe we LIBERALS should launch a full-blown, counter attack against the Republicans about their botched joke - George Bush.
Don’t ever believe me when I say that I’ll blog with you tomorrow. I always have the best of intentions, but stuff happens. Perhaps you will forgive me just this once if I tell you what’s been happening in our family. The Big Irishman has departed from his previous place of employment in order to launch his own wealth management firm. It’s been a marathon, but from all indications, this may prove to be the best decision he ever made. (other than choosing me to be the mother of his children) Between setting up and decorating a new office and establishing an accounting system, I have been one busy lady. Did I mention that I appointed myself the CEO? Tom is the Grand Imperial Pubah.
I had planned to describe in detail all my adventures in Canada, but it all seems like a very long time ago. I do want to tell you a little more about my amazing honorary grandchildren - Ozzy and Tango. These two guys have to be among the greatest children on the planet. Not only are they adorable to look at, but they are fun and interesting to interact with. Their imaginations were a constant source of amazement for me. Adults could learn a lesson from the gentle way that Ozzy and Tango deal with their world. These children are examples of all things pure and good. They are a testament to the terrific parenting by Chad and Holly. Thanks again to Donna for sharing her precious grandchildren with me.
After returning from Canada, I spent a week in the Bay Area with Katie. She just signed her very first teaching contract and I helped her set up her classroom. It sure felt good to design bulletin boards again. She is teaching a preschool class for children with varying degrees of autism. I must say - Katie has a true gift. Tom and I are so very proud of her. At a later date I will be sharing with you an adventure Katie and I had during my visit. Sneak preview: The adventure involves wild animals and police.
I think George Bush becomes scarier every day. We have a section in our daily newspaper called THE VENT. It’s for people to express their opinions, however extreme. On Tuesday this entry caught my eye. “For those of you who think George Bush is a good Christian, how do you suppose Jesus Christ would choose to define torture?”
I’m home from my latest adventure and very anxious to catch up with my readers. I probably should discuss my travels during the next several postings to avoid typer’s cramp and also to keep you all from being totally overwhelmed by the details of my various journeys. I have put some miles on this terrific body (one of my short term goals is a more positive self-image.) I guess I’ll start with my trip to Toronto.
Donna and I made it to Toronto without incident. I’m happy to report that I made it through customs with no problem. Given that I’m on Bushy’s list, I totally expected to be surrounded by federal agents and strip-searched at gunpoint. I was almost disappointed when nothing happened. I guess I’ll just have to work at looking more sinister.
We spent Wednesday and Thursday in Toronto seeing the sights. Chad and Holly (Donna’s son and daughter-in-law) have recently purchased a new house in the downtown area. It is under construction, but the projects that have been completed are awesome. It will be a showplace when the rehab. is finished. Holly took us on a tour of several parts of the city. My favorite area was RONCESVALLES. It’s sort of a “little Poland.” Most of Holly’s food shopping is actually “marketing.” She shops in a variety of speciality shops. I was in a store that actually had about 150,000 kinds of cheese. I saw fruits and vegetables that I had never seen before. Another highlight of our time in Toronto was a slumber party in our hotel room with Tango and Ozzy, Donna’s grandsons. What happens at slumber parties stays at slumber parties, but I’ll give you a hint … late, late night movies and bed jumping. That’s all I’m going to say. Tomorrow I will tell you all about two very fabulous children and a place called “PENETANGUISHENE.”
Instead of my usual political comment, I just want to tell you what a joke Bushy is in Canada. The editorial pages in the Canadian newspapers are filled with insightful editorials and letters questioning almost every move he has made. There are even billboards depicting him as “the village idiot.” I was so proud to be an American. NOT!
