FAMILY LUNCH

 

          On Sunday there was a family lunch of nine women. The oldest was ninety-four and the youngest almost eighteen. These women are known by various appellations, i.e., mom, daughter, daughter-in-law, auntie, great-auntie, nana, grandma, granddaughter, sister, niece, cousin.

With the exception of three, all could be called mom and one of those three will become an official mom in October. Seven could be identified as cousins; five as daughters; four as grandma/nana; four as sisters; two as granddaughters; and one daughter-in-law. Whew, it was difficult to figure that out, but I think I got it right.

Missing was our great-aunt and sister to our other great-aunt. She’s almost ninety-seven and now unable to leave her home without serious assistance. None of us nine were able to provide the kind of assistance she requires. After lunch, however, a number of us went up the street to visit her at her home. There’s a great photo of the two ninety-something sisters from that meeting.

Among the ten of us there is a wealth of memories, but we know that the potential for more memories that include all of us at the same time is waning. That’s why we decided a number of years ago to try to do these family lunches on a semi-regular basis because we knew the ladies in or approaching their nineth decade might be leaving us sooner rather than later. Already, there’s the one who can no longer attend, but she’s still with us.

As the third-eldest (unbelievable, right?), I can think back to my childhood and have memories of the two eldest. They were young then, with small children…my cousins. There were picnics, family gatherings, overnights, surprises, showers, weddings, funerals, and included so many other relatives that are no longer present. I treasure those memories as I treasure these lunches…one more memory to add to those from before.

This was my granddaughter’s first family lady lunch. It is my hope she will return for future lunches. I’d like her to have some memory of these wonderful women who have inhabited my life for all of my life in one way or another. It always makes me wonder how I can be so happy when also feeling sad.

SPRING

 

          Growing up, my Great Aunt Lola and Great Uncle Ike (and they were, indeed GREAT), had a tulip tree (magnolia) growing in their front yard. I loved that tree and asked Auntie if she would make sure to leave it to me in her will. Well, as you can imagine, that didn’t happen, but thanks to my children, I now have a tulip tree of my own, gifted in memory of my mother.

          Also in memory of my mother is a pink dogwood tree gifted by John’s sister. It’s located in the front yard, so I have a favorite in the back and one in the front. I love these trees and always look forward to them blooming each spring. The tulip tree is pretty much done blooming for this year, but the dogwood is a cloud of pink right now. And it’s the first time this tree has bloomed much at all. I may put a chair in the driveway and contemplate its beauty for a while today.

          Do you have favorite trees? These two are my own personal favorites, but I also like many others. There’s a lime green tree a couple blocks away that is some kind of maple. It’s beautiful spring, summer and fall. Of course, there’s my old Karlberg Memorial apple tree which actually had a number of blossoms this spring. Hopefully, it will produce more than just the one apple it yielded last year.

          What were lilac bushes are now lilac trees in both the front and back gardens. I love those too, especially the way they smell, but I’m doubtful about being able to harvest a bouquet since they are now so tall.

          And I cannot forget those huge bright pink clouds of blossoms on what I think maybe cherry trees of some kind. Or, the white dogwoods of all different sizes and types. Also cannot forget all the different rhododendrons, large and small in such a wide variety of colors.

          Can you tell Spring with its blooming trees, bushes and flowers is my most favorite time of the year.

WEEDS OR FLOWERS???

 

          “A weed is just a flower growing in the wrong place.” This saying is attributed to a woman named Cecelia Ahern and I’ve decided it is one of my favorite sayings. This is because I look out the window and see weeds growing with great abandon in what is usually my weed-free and carefully upkept garden.

          As I’ve blogged, my back is bad and my ability to remove those flowers growing in the wrong place is limited. Rather than be upset and depressed about this fact, I’ve decided to love those damned weeds as I do my dahlias and lilies.

          There, a new favorite thing that’s never been on my want, need or desire list in the past. Oh, I feel so much better now…well, not really.

LATTES

 

Back in the early nineties I came into a bit of money. E-trade was just beginning about then and I wanted to invest the funds rather than spend them. I took a couple of investing classes and asked the second instructor if he would take care of my money. Alas, I didn’t have enough because he had a $5,000 limit and I only had about half that. The one thing this man did stress when talking about investments was how he could put every single penny he had in Starbucks stock and sleep like a baby.

I did my research and ended up buying three Northwest stocks, one of which was Starbucks. That man’s faith in this company paid off and I watched my piddly funds grow and grow and grow. They almost reached $100,000 before the stock market took a big dive a few years ago. But that was okay because I didn’t plan to sell. These funds are my “emergency” funds.

What made me think of all this was my favorite coffee EVER!!! When I was employed, I stopped at Starbucks every single morning on my way to work. There were times I even went on weekends or John went and brought lattes back. I always felt good about spending that money because I owned a teeny, tiny piece of Starbucks.

          As a retirement gift to myself, I bought a Nespresso machine. Since then, I have two lattes every single morning and even a decaf one in the afternoon if I feel the need for an iced latte. My trips to Starbucks have become very few and very far between. I think I’ve lost my Gold Card status, but that’s okay.

          Nespresso is amazing, at least in my opinion and that of Danny DeVito and George Clooney. I buy capsules, kind of like Keurig, but from the Nespresso company. In the beginning, I think the cost was sixty-five cents each. Now they are eighty cents each. I order one-hundred at a time and the shipping is free.

          If that wasn’t enough to sell me on this company, besides the fact I really love the coffee, Nespresso has a recycling program. I save up two-hundred capsules in the freezer (so they don’t mold), put them into a pre-addressed bag Nespresso provides, and drop the bag off at UPS. Nespresso pays to have those used capsules returned so the grounds and the aluminum can be recycled.

          I still have my lattes every single morning, my favorite way to begin my day.

BOOKS

 

          Friends and family share their reviews about a wide variety of television programs. Were I to make a list of all these broadcasts, and I have on occasion made lists, I’d be hunkered down in front of the television 24/7. It’s not that I don’t watch TV because I do, it’s just that I have a different and far more favorite way to utilize my time…BOOKS.

          According to my mother, I taught myself to read before I began school. When we moved to Seattle, I was eight years old and was introduced to my local library via a school field trip. I’d found my home away from home. It was the kind of home that allowed me to travel the world, nay, the universe, and even places that might not have actually resided in the world or universe. Long before I was grown up and was able to travel independently, I had already traveled more than I believed any other person could have.

          Year by year as I grew up, I chose different paths for my life, depending on the books I was reading. I became the first woman race-car driver, first woman jockey, first woman in space, first successful woman in a wide array of careers. Unfortunately, my growing-up dreams didn’t come to fruition once I reached adult-hood although I had also read a lot of romance novels.

          Another pleasure that results from reading is the ability to share my books with other readers. It’s always such a gift to find another reader who knows my author(s) and my book(s), but it’s even more enjoyable when I can share the names of authors and book titles with someone who hasn’t yet discovered these favorites of mine. Just as fun is being given the gift of a new author or book I haven’t yet found.

          These days, I’m sincerely grateful for my I-Pad because I can visit the King County Library without even leaving my house. And, it’s so easy. I look up a book, make my request and the library notifies me when the book is available or allows me to borrow it right then. Downloaded to my I-Pad it’s ready for me to read in a print-size that doesn’t leave me with fried eyes.

Seriously, I never thought I’d want to replace a hand-held book with an electronic one, but reading books on my I-Pad has become my absolute favorite way spend time visiting other times and places.

PERCOCET

 

          John was addicted to Percocet. I now understand why and am so thankful he had just renewed his prescription before he passed. I was somehow smart enough to keep that big bottle of medication when I went through and eliminated the other hundred bottles of stuff…and, okay, I exaggerated there just a bit.

          Some mornings my back hurts so badly, it’s difficult to move and just sitting up and getting out of bed HURTS. But move I do and make my way to letting the dog out, fixing myself a latte and leaning against my heating pad set to HIGH. Most mornings, depending on what I did the day before, the heating pad is enough to make the pain bearable. I get up and continue with my day, beginning with my home exercise program which seems to help.

          I do not want to become a Percocet addict, so I’m extremely careful about how often I resort to those wonderful pills. Very rarely, I’ve taken three in one day, but it’s usually just one and that just one not even every day. On some days, though, Percocet becomes my absolute favorite medication. I pop one of those babies before or after my latte or even after my home exercise program because the pain hasn’t improved even a little bit. Then, it’s back to my favorite place…bed…until the Percocet does its job.

          It’s my hope the MRI shows something in my lower back that is fixable. As I said, I do not want to become an addict were that even possible the way they administer pain medications these days. Meanwhile, I’m most grateful for this inheritance, but also find myself wishing the bottle was magic and could refill itself. Of course, then it would undoubtedly become my absolute favorite medication Multiple. Times. Every. Single. Day.

GLASS

 

          There is something absolutely fascinating about glass. I’ve read about how people built homes with shutters instead of glass. I’ve read about how expensive it was to have glass windows back in the day. My home had single-pane windows when it was purchased. Now it has double-pane, should probably be upgraded to triple-pane, and three garden windows.

          Those garden windows don’t contain gardens, but displays of glass I’ve collected and been gifted over the years. I love glass and things made of glass. If you asked me to point out my favorite piece, it would be very difficult because there are so many I just love, love, love.

          Just sitting here typing, I can look to my right and see the large face candle-holder. It’s clear glass with an orange center and the face is rather abstract. There’s the red and orange rooster I found at Goodwill, the green bird with the long tail I bought cheap in some little antique store and several hand-blown glass bowls I picked up here and there.

          The kitchen garden window doesn’t contain much in the way of glass, but does have a few plants and fake orchids. I gave up trying to grow the live orchids after I was told to STAY OFF LADDERS!!!!

          It doesn’t really matter where you go in my house, you’re going to find glass. There are birds, fish, vases, bowls, pumpkins, fruit, rabbits, snails and apples. I lament giving Haley most of my apples when I was downsizing because I thought I’d be moving. I had quite the collection. I kept my favorites though. There’s the octopus AJ gifted me when I finished cancer treatment. There’s one of the pumpkins Angie gave me for my birthday. Thor worked at a florist for a while and I have several glass vases and watering balls he brought me.

          Glass is indeed my favorite decorating item even though I absolutely hate having to dust and/or wash the damn stuff. I have my windows cleaned once a year in the spring. That’s when I haul all the glass into the kitchen/dining room and run it through the dishwasher twice on the rinse cycle. It sure beats having to wash and dry each piece by hand although there are some pieces that have to be handled that way.

          Next month will be window washing time, and while the glass still looks okay because I’ve dusted now and then, it will sparkle and glow during these longer light-filled days in front of the freshly cleaned windows. I’m grateful for my fun collection of glass, especially when I look at the various pieces and remember the person who made the gift or the little shop where I found another treasure.

BFFS, FRIENDS, ACQUAINTANCES

 

          An article I read indicated that a person my age or older was lucky to have one BFF. I guess I’m more fortunate than most because I have several BFFs plus other friends and lots of acquaintances. This is how I identify my groups.

          A BFF is someone you see on a regular basis, with whom you lunch, attend various events, help out, support and love a whole bunch. In turn, they provide their love and support. This kind of friendship cannot be bought and as that old credit card commercial used to exclaim, “It’s priceless.”

There are other friends I don’t see very often, but whenever we do get together, it’s as though we just saw each other a few days ago instead of weeks or months. There was always the potential for us to become BFFs, but location, time, energy, life demands prevent that possibility. Still, I deeply value and love these people and appreciate what our relationships bring to my life.

Finally, there’s the acquaintances. Some, I see regularly, but we don’t lunch or do other stuff together, i.e., the folks in my fitness class. Others are sort of in passing. We run into each other, chat for a bit to catch up and go on our ways. I always rejoice and feel good about those interactions.

          I’m extremely grateful to have all these folks in my life. Each and every one is a favorite in one way or another. I value each for their love, support, concern, care, talent, energy, and kindness. Each one brings a richness to my life for which I’m always grateful.

SONS

          

Last week I had long chats with both my sons. That led me to memories of being pregnant with each of them. I was lucky to have very few bad or uncomfortable experiences during both pregnancies. The memories of their babyhood, toddler stage, young boys and finally grown men bring me a lot of pleasure as well as the wish, sometimes, that I had done some of my childrearing differently. Doesn’t’ matter though because they’ve both grown up to be responsible, compassionate and reasonable human beings.

          Isn’t it wonderful how the photographs can be hauled out and pawed through whenever I want to revisit some point in each of their lives, or brought up on the computer once we moved to digital. I love the ones of AJ in his white tux with tails that he wore to the eighth-grade dance. I especially love the ones of Thor when he dressed up for a Halloween party as a woman. The way he made me laugh when he sat down like a guy and ripped out the entire crotch of his mesh panty-hose still brings a big smile to my face.

          How about the photos of AJ with his own child, only ten minutes old. That one can still bring tears to my eyes. I have a similar picture of Thor with Xander and it has the same effect.

          I could go on for pages and pages about all the favorite memories I have of my sons, but the one thing I am the most grateful for is the fact they and their families remain a big part of my life and give me the ability to add to my treasure trove of favorite memories.

KUMA, MY FAV

 

          It’s so easy to look back and find lots of favorite things in my memories. It might be more difficult to find favorite things in the present, but for every “favorite” that’s attributed to the past, there has to be one that is in the now.

          It goes without saying/writing that Kuma is definitely my favorite puppy. He brings so much joy to my life I cannot imagine it without him. Kuma is loving, stubborn, learns easily and is so smart it’s scary some times. Not only that, but Kuma has a schedule, and damn it, I’d best adhere to that schedule. I believe I’ve blogged about this before.

          On and off the bed beginning at 6:00 am that continues until I’m sitting on the side of the bed. Kuma straddles my legs, takes my hand in his mouth and expects me to give him lovie loves before I stand up. Most mornings, unless it’s pouring and sometimes even then, Kuma goes out to do his business, eat some grass, and poke around the yard catching up on the smells the night visitors left. I, his servant, make myself a latte and refresh his water and food bowls.

          On the couch, Kuma demands and gets more lovie loves, brings me either his chicky-ball or his beefy ball. It’s time for me to throw it down the hallway so he can dash off and bring it back. He doesn’t always give it up right away and enjoys playing keep-away. This stops when I say, “Mommy has her coffee.” All it took was one spill ages ago for him to learn this means we’re done playing for the moment.

          There are days when I swear Kuma can read my mind, that or habits inform his response to me. He some how always seems to know the times he has to stay home rather than accompany me. He stands in the hallway looking forlorn. The times he gets to go, he’s already at the door. And, if we’re going out to play bally-ball in the street, he’s always waiting at the front door with expectation exhibited by perked ears and dancing feet.

          The end of the day Kuma exhibits his herding ability to the max. By 7:30 pm, if I’m not up and moving, he comes to me with a reproachful look, as if to say, “C’mon, don’t you know what time it is.” If I don’t’ respond right away, he continues to come and go with “that look” until I get up and say, “Bedtime peepee.” If it takes a lot longer to respond, he goes down the hall and comes back, sits in the hallway and stares at me. I swear I can hear him thinking, “How stupid is she. What else can I do to make her understand it’s bedtime?”

          The bedtime peepee is followed by my spraying him with a daily brushing aid, giving him spray cheese on a mat so he’ll allow me to give him a good brushing. Then, he waits in the hall while I perform my nighttime ablutions. Finally, on the bed, Kuma supervises my nightly routine until I turn on the TV and turn out the light. Then, he assumes his position on my right where he remains until I snuggle down for the night. At that point, he gets up, turns around a couple of times and fits his body against my tummy or my back. It feels very good to have him there.

          Can you understand why Kuma is one of my favorites and why I’m so grateful for him.

HUGS

 

   

       It’s funny how I went through life not really understanding or seriously appreciating my husband’s hugs. Now, with only the memory of them, they’ve become one of my favorite things.

          John was a big guy and I always felt small next to him. When he hugged me, he surrounded me. My head nestled beneath his chin, his arms encircled all of me, his body matched the entire length of mine. This was a standing hug.

          The bed hugs were quite possibly the best. My favorite was his body behind mine with his arm around me, hand cupping my boob, his genitals against my bottom, bent knees against bent knees. Just as satisfactory was my front against his back, my hand holding his penis, his hand against my butt cheek.

          There were other hugs quickly given and received, hugs that were more just holding one another as we watched television or talked, hugs that encompassed our boys when they were small, the final hug I gave him in farewell.

          Hugs, or the memory of them, are one of my favorite things and I'm so grateful for all those hug memories.

A NEW BEGINNING...MY FAVORITE THINGS

         

It’s been a difficult winter, the week in Costa Rica notwithstanding. I injured my back last fall and it’s only gotten worse as the months passed. After an x-ray which showed arthritis, multiple doctor appointments, medications and massages, I finally have an MRI scheduled for May. I am hoping the MRI shows something that can be fixed. If not, I’m don’t know what I’ll do.

Amazingly, on my return from Costa Rica, my back felt the best it has since last summer. A friend and my doctor both postulated the heat and humidity might have had something to do with it. I’m also wondering if it’s my bed or the fact we averaged seven thousand steps a day while there. I do know, back pain or no back pain, I won’t be leaving this area.

          I don’t know about you, but I never seriously contemplated what would happen if (when) I become less independent. As a result of this back problem and the resulting pain, I have to sit down to put on my panties, socks and shoes. Picking up Kuma’s bowls and replacing them full of food and water hurts. So many things I took for granted I now have to think about and try to adjust how I get it done. It’s scary to think my future activities could be permanently limited and require outside assistance…or a move to someplace which provides that assistance.

          This has also led me to be depressed, frustrated and angry. Seriously, when I do at least thirty minutes of exercise and physical therapy at home almost every day and attend fitness classes three times a week, how could this happen to me? But it has and just this past Monday morning while having a personal pity party, a few lines from that old song, My Favorite Things, sung by Julie Andrews popped into my head:

“When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad.”

          I had gone back to bed when this happened…why not since I can’t do much else…and it served as a wake-up call. As most of my friends know, I am a big proponent of the “YOU CHOOSE” method of how my day is going to be. Lately, I’ve been making a negative choice as opposed to a positive one. As a result of that old song, I’ve decided to choose a favorite thing to think about and be grateful for each day to help me feel good.

          That idea made me think of where I was right then…snuggled down in one of my favorite places, my bed. I love having the ability to drink my first latte and then go back to bed. I love how the back pain diminishes. I love the feel of the sheets and downy comforter over my body, the silky pillow under my head. I love having Kuma nestle adjacent or against me. I love the way my mind drifts from one topic to another as I drift toward sleep.

          This is the first of “my favorite things,” to hopefully be followed by others I choose so, “I don’t feel so bad.”