As The Butter Churns

December 22nd I Can Hear The Bells

 

 (via Henry's phone - Tamara's Wedding Cake - that I decorated - the top two tiers are chocolate with raspberry filling, the bottom tier is toasted coconut with cream cheese icing -on top are glass hummingbirds -my gumpaste ones did NOT work out-  the outside is buttercream not fondant - didn't I get that smooth? And those are NAVY flowers and ribbon with brown branches the bride requested)

    I’d just finished the first wedding cake I’d ever decorated and was on flying on a mixture of buttercream and adrenaline. Being my first time it took me quite a while but I was surprised to look up and find it had actually been nine hours. The clock read 7:30 PM and I had to pick up Henry two towns away in Burlington. Bursting with pride I flew down the I-5. I had worried for days it would look homemade. I didn’t want the bride, Tamara, to be disappointed on her day. Pish-posh I thought. It looked amazing, even if she did want navy flowers.  Looking for a job as always, I had answered a craigslist ad for a “very part-time cake decorator”. Without much hope of getting it I sent off a picture of Phoebe’s birthday cake and some of my Easter cookies and held my breath. To my surprise, Denise Ward called me and said she wanted to meet. “You see, I bought this business and well, I love to bake and I’m really good at baking, but I realized pretty quickly I don’t like to decorate and I’m not good at it either. To me it’s all about the taste.” She’d said. I’d told her I don’t even like cake, to me it’s all about how it looks and the icing. We seemed to go together like peas and carrots. We started small with some birthday cakes and I was supposed to observe this cake while the previous owner decorated. But she’d decided to go out of town for the holidays and I was up to bat.

 (the cake at the kitchen - a little clearer)

     I realized I was happy. The kind of happy deep inside where no matter what you know it’s going to be ok. Money of course has been a constant worry for just about everyone in the last few years, but it doesn’t define us. I’ve been thinking lately that if things don’t turn around some how, like if the honey doesn’t take off or Tom isn’t able to join me, I might have to sell the farm. Which is a hard thought to have, but as I zoomed past Lake Samish I thought – it’s just a house, we’ll make a home wherever we are.

     I am going to a tradeshow in January and who knows, it could turn things around, but for now. I made a wedding cake and didn’t botch it.

     In the morning, sipping coffee I was still basking in the afterglow of my wedding cake. I chatted with Awesomez who’d had to seek refuge at June’s house in the California storms. “You know, it hasn’t rained a drop since you left. It’s almost 50 degrees and blue skies here.” I said checking the thermometer on the porch.

     “Are you bragging?” She queried.

     “Uhhhh, yeah. I guess I am”. I snickered. She told me about the floods, the troubles maneuvering from Palm Springs where her dad lives to LAX, the canceled flights, the closed roads, broken windshield wipers, the heat in her dad’s car being on the fritz and the spare panties June had ready for wayward travelers.  

     “Nothing so dramatic going on here,” I said hanging up. Henry and I had to get the house picked up. The kitchen was a mess from me practicing navy blue royal icing flowers with yellow centers. I’d made hundreds of them. Just in case. I smiled to my self as I thought back on the day before. - I’d been so worried and my tummy had been bothering me. Henry had told me to lie down on the sofa while he made my practice icing. I was nervous and couldn’t relax so I came in the kitchen to check on him. 

     He looked over his shoulder when I came in the room hunched over in pain. “Look, I’m not asking you I’m telling you to go back in there and lie down.” I must have looked weak and vulnerable because he pounced on me like a camel on a bug. “I’ll be in in a minute now go.” I went. Laughing, it was like hearing my mother moving to the next generation through me and on to Henry. He came in and brought me a hot water bottle, some Advil™ a cup of tea and turned on “Amazing Wedding Cakes” - for educational purposes.

     We finished cleaning the kitchen, vacuumed the hallway, I ordered a cushion for the sofa that had been ripped mysteriously and we headed to town to meet my boss, the other Denise.

   (Farmhouse Hotel at the Homestead in Lynden)

    “I’m not touching the cake, she might stab me in the face if I do anything wrong,” Henry told the other Denise, Denise Ward of Seamless Cakes. She laughed and Henry held the door open. The drive to the wedding was uneventful. We went slowly and Henry sat in the back monitoring any movement. We arrived at the Homestead House in Lynden and were shown the cake table. We placed the cake, took a few pictures and snuck out the door just in time to hear the bride exclaim, “There’s my cake! Let’s go look at it!” as she was ushered out of the room to finish taking pictures.

     No sooner had Henry and the other Denise and me jumped in the car than my phone rang. I didn’t want to talk to anyone – I wanted to enjoy our moment, and I didn’t recognize the number so I almost put it back in my purse but it had the Deming/Acme/Mosquito Lake Road prefix so I answered it.

     “Denise?” A frantic voice called out.

     “Yes,” I answered trying to figure out who was calling me.

     “It’s Norton, he’s been attacked. I’m so sorry! I was out walking the dogs and Helix went after him and got him on the nose and I want to make this right and I’m so sorry!” She was almost hysterical. It took me a moment to figure out it was Amber my tenant who lives in the apartment over the shop where my dad, and Amy and Kristie all used to live. She’d moved in with her boyfriend. They’d had two dogs and a cat. But one day I noticed two additional dogs. And that’s a lot of dogs for that small place. I’d put in a dog door so they could go directly in the dog run attached to the shop, but I’d had my hesitations. Most of the dogs seemed nice, but I’d worried some about Helix. He chased chickens whenever he had the chance and didn’t really seem to obey. He was a Pitbull. And I’d turned down tenants for Pitbulls before. I worried about having a pack of Pitbull mixes and a Boxer on my property. They were all incredibly strong dogs, but they stayed in their pen and so I didn’t worry too much. Bowzer was a big baby submissive to Luther, Nala was sweet and wiggly and Emerson the Boxer was all kisses. They got a long fine with my dogs. Helix however was the wildcard.

     “Are you sure he needs a doctor?” I said. “Pigs are pretty tough,”

     “He definitely needs something. Stitches or something. I haven’t gotten a good look at the wound he’s walking around in the pasture, but where should I take him?” She broke down into tears.

     “Amber, shhh ok take him to Kulshan Veterinary in Lynden. It’s on Badger and Benson. I have to go back to Ferndale and get my car then Henry and I will meet you there. Can you get him in the car?”

     “I don’t know, I don’t know.” She wept.

     “Maybe I should come home. I’ll call Kulshan, maybe they can come to you.” I hung up and tried calling Kulshan, but I was getting nervous. I called my sister instead and relayed the information. She called Kulshan and I called Alexis. He said he wasn’t far away and would go home to get Norton in the car. 

     “I guess he has a cut on his nose and needs some stitches.” I told him.

     “I finished at Dawn’s and I’m just at the Everbody’s Store and I can be home in about ten minutes.”

     My sister called back. “They can take him at 4:00PM. I don’t know if she can get him there by then, but they’re at least expecting him.” 

     “Alexis is here she said and we’re trying to get him in the car. Denise, it’s really bad I can see bone.” Fear was starting to wash over me. Until now I’d thought it was just a laceration. No big deal. It wasn’t his throat or his abdomen after all. “I’ll let you talk to Alexis.”

     “Hey, umm it’s pretty bad. I can see his skeleton,” He said quietly and matter-of-factly. I don’t know what else he said because I stopped listening. I was afraid he wasn’t going to get him in the car and take him to the vet at all. I was afraid he wasn’t going to give him a chance.

     “Alexis! Get him in the car! Please! Get him to the vet!” 

     “I’ll get him in the car. I’ll get him in the car don’t worry.” He said. 

     I called my sister back and told her what they’d said. “Don’t necessarily believe them. I hear that all the time and it’s not nearly as serious as they think. Often times it’s tendon they see. Let’s just hope right now. Pigs bleed a lot.”

     “I need you. Can you come?” I asked. She didn’t’ hesitate.

    “We’re on our way.”

     The other Denise dropped Henry and I back at the American Legion Hall where we do the cakes and wished us luck. It was cold and I considered stopping for a coffee on the way. But I was sick to my stomach and couldn’t think of coffee right now. We called Tom. He wasn’t in his office so we left a message and headed off to Kulshan. 

     Alexis, Amber and Norton were on their way, but hadn’t arrived. Henry and I sat down in the waiting room and before along a doctor came out to greet us.

 (Doctor Perry Stanfield)

    “Are you here for Norton?” He asked introducing himself as Dr. Perry Stanfield.

     “Yes, but he’s not here yet.” 

     “I know, I just thought maybe you could give me some information. And an estimate of about how long you think it’ll be before they get here.”

     “Well, they were on the 9 at Mt. Baker Highway about 10 minutes ago. I really can’t even think right now, is that about 15 minutes?”

     “I think that’s about right.”

     “Norton’s an American Guinea Hog.”

     “I’m not familiar with that breed.”

   (baby Nortie)

    “He’s a heritage breed, black about 30 inches tall and weighs a couple hundred pounds, he’s healthy and strong and not yet a year old. He’s intact.” I said trying to stick to the facts.

     “And he’s very sweet and loves his tummy rubbed,” Henry added. “He’s one of my best friends.”

 “I’ve loved a lot of pigs,” Dr. Stanfield said to Henry very kindly. “I’m a small animal doctor, but I’ve worked on a lot of pigs. Actually, I’ve tried to shake the pig doctor reputation. Does he lead on a leash or harness? I’m just wondering how we’re going to corral him.” He said smiling.

     I mentioned my sister was a veterinarian and that she was coming he nodded saying he knew Lisa. Having Lisa to talk shop is always a comfort. Doctors talk differently to doctors. I know too that Lisa could assure them that if there was a lot of care to be done that we could do whatever was necessary. Bandage changes, injectable antibiotics and any other wound maintenance. Lisa had said maybe Norton and Midge should move to her barn and stay in Cody’s stall for awhile so she could take care of him during his recovery. Cody her horse was somewhere else for the winter being used for riding lessons.

     “He doesn’t really like to be led, but I don’t know what state he’s in now.” I said wanly.

    “Well, let me tell you, it’s hard to kill a pig. So please have hope. They can endure more than you think. I’m going to take my next patient, but have them let me know when he arrives and I’ll come out to the parking lot and do an initial evaluation so he doesn’t have to move.” I shook his hand and thanked him for his kindness. After that we sat and waited watching the other people come and go with their happy healthy dogs. There was a very happy Chocolate lab with stitches, a German shepherd with a limp and a Husky who’d needed shots. I grabbed a cup of luke warm coffee from the thermos on the table.

   (Norton in the back and Midge in the front)

    Lisa and Quinn walked in the waiting room just before Alexis called with Amber from the parking lot. I notified the receptionist and we all walked out to the car. Amber was dressed in nothing but a navy sweatshirt and jeans. She looked frozen her face streaked with tears. Alexis was in his farm boots wearing jeans and a jacket standing next the car looking very somber. Henry, Quinn and I hung back waiting for them to assess him. We could hear him snort hello. That was our snuggly Snortin’ Norton.

 (Farmer Today - Henry the modern day farm boy and his trusty pig, Norton)

    As we stood there I could see Lisa’s smiling face fade as she became the doctor. They were gesturing and talking. As I watched her I wondered where she’d gotten that fabulous new jacket she was wearing. I figured she must have been Christmas shopping and I went on to guess it was TJ Maxx. She nodded me to come over so I walked to the back of the car. She motioned again for me to stay to her right to shield me from the wound, only it was too late for that. I was horrified almost to the point of being sick. I couldn’t have imagined the unyielding viciousness of the attack. His face had been chewed off. His skeleton was protruding his nose was gone and there was blood and flaps of skin. It was most brutal thing I’ve ever seen. And with his nose completely gone, I wondered how could he still snort?

     “Dr. Perry and I are trying to decide what to do.” Lisa said to me and to Henry. 

     “I’m having my colleagues assess him too so we consider all the options. There's over 150 years of experience her.” Dr. Perry Stanfield said.

     “You see,” Lisa said, “If we do surgery and reconstruct he can’t get anesthesia through a mask, and then we have to use injectables which is much harder to manage, and if he makes it through the surgery then there is the problem that his lower jaw will protrude and we wonder if he’ll have a hard time eating,” she said.

     “Then we wonder about his temperament. Norton is a loving kind pig, but will he continue to be?” Dr. Stanfield wondered.

     “And if we get him through all of this how will we keep him from ripping everything out? He’s not a dog and we can’t put an Elizabethan collar on him because of the shape of his neck.”

     “So are you saying, he wont’ make it?” I asked rubbing his tummy with Lisa and Henry as we talked.

     “No, I haven’t given up on him,” Dr. Stanfield said. “Not yet anyway. His vitals are strong, we’re just not sure yet.” I nodded and walked away unable to control my sobbing.

     Norton wasn’t a farm animal he was a farm-dog – so smart and sweet. Henry was standing with Quinn silent staring into space at one point and the next moment he was sobbing uncontrollably while Quinn comforted him.

   (Norton goes nose to nose with Gnatalie)

    Poor Amber stood by weeping, the weight of the world on her shoulders. I felt so sorry for her. I seemed to disassociate. It was as if I wasn’t really part of the scene at for a moment, but watching from afar. Amber had Norton’s blood smeared on her white sneakers. Alexis rubbed her shoulder every once in a while and intermittently everyone would huddle together for warmth. We could hear Norton breathing as he lay in the back of Amber’s car and every once in a while there was an occasional snort. I knew in my heart this was not going to end well as five salt & peppered doctors consulted. But we stood around waiting while the doctors discussed Norton’s injuries and his prognosis. We  hoped and huddled together for warmth discussing trivial things as people do in these situations. 

     “You know my mom got that coat at TJ Maxx,” Quinn said.

     “I knew it! It’s really cute.” I felt triumphant at my powers of deduction. I still had it.

   (Lisa in "her" new coat)

    “What you don’t know is it was a Christmas present for you and she loved it so much she kept it.” Quinn outed her. Alexis, Amber and Henry began to chat and my mind began to wander.

     It was up to me to make The Decision. The doctors including my sister were telling me without telling me. I know many people don’t want their animals to suffer, but that wasn’t my main concern. Life is full of suffering. Irish had suffered through his recovery, but it had been worth it. As my sister has said many times “Dogs are born with three legs and a spare.” Irish had a wonderful happy life. He enjoys snuggling,“Dancing With the Stars” and chasing an occasional cougar. Sure he limps off and on, but he’s not unhappy.

    I felt tremendous guilt I’d allowed this to happen. But in truth although Helix had chased chickens I’d never dreamt of this possibility. He’d been around the pigs, goats, sheep dozens of time and I’d never had an inkling of this kind of evil. I could have handled it better if it had been a coyote attack. Then it would have been about survival and food. Sure I would have been upset the llama wasn’t here, but it wouldn’t have been the same thing. Death they say is death. But that’s not true. I’ve seen death. There is illness and accident and then there is murder. Murder is a completely different thing. When something or someone decides to kill and purposely takes a life it’s a different death. 

     Norton I was pretty sure would never ever be happy again. I knew too I’d do anything including spend the money on this innocent to do a heroic surgery. I’d take care of him and keep him in the laundry room if necessary, but what I did not want to do was put him through all of this if in the end he would not be happy in any way. The prospect made me was so deeply sad. I felt guilty. My precious animal was just having a nice sunny piggy day out by the pond munching on grass and sipping from the stream and then this Pitbull which I had allowed to be on my property had ravaged him. The thought of the fear and the unbelievable pain he must have felt drained my strength. I walked over to Lisa and Dr. Stanfield. “If he were your friend, would you let him go?” I asked directly reaching over and rubbing Norton’s tummy again.

     “I really hate to give up on him, but I think so.” He said. Lisa was still rubbing his tummy and Norton lifted his leg up so she could get his good spot. “I’m just afraid, that if we do everything we can, we might be in this exact position in three weeks.”

   (pigs in a blanket- Midge on the left and Norton on the right)

    “I can’t put Norton through that. Or Henry.” I said deciding. I nodded to Quinn and Henry to come over to say good-bye. Quinn hadn’t wanted to but now that this was the end she came over and rubbed his tummy. He’d ridden home from Portland on her lap. Tears rolled down her face; she was crying so hard she was shaking. 

     “Can’t we save him?” She begged. “Really?”

     “No honey, it’s time to say good-bye.” I said and then Lisa began explaining the medical stuff again. I walked away and called Tom while Alexis and Amber said their good-byes.

   (Quinn bringing Norton home from Portland)

    Dr. Stanfield sedated Norton first. Lisa never stopped rubbing his tummy and telling him he was a good pig. I told him how much he was loved.

    “Norton you really are some pig. You know how much we love you. You really are some pig”. I cooed. After he slipped into unconsciousness we stood there in the cold clear night air waiting for him to pass. The moon was bright and the clouds were remarkably dramatic. Alexis kept insisting that we go inside and get warm, but none of us could leave Norton’s side. We could hear him breathing until the end. It was decided to take him home for burial because it would cost hundreds of dollars to dispose of the body.

     “You’ll have to use the backhoe,” Dr. Stanfield insisted. “The body has to be deep because anything that feeds on him will die.” I nodded as did Alexis.

     “We can do it,” Alexis said giving me a hug. We discussed getting Norton’s body out of the car and where to put when we got home until we could bury him.

     “He’s gone,” Lisa announced almost in a whisper. And just then in the distance we could hear the bells of a church begin to chime.

     “Listen! Can you hear the bells?” Quinn asked. “They’re chiming.”

   (Norton with his colonial farm pig on)

    My thoughts turned to Midge. She was all alone and still outside. 

     “Mom? What about Frank and the other animals? I’m worried their not in the barn yet and it’s night.” Henry asked with fear in his eyes. Alexis promised to handle everything and told me to just go in the house when I got home. I was in no mood to argue and I knew there were no words that could convey my gratitude so I simply thanked him.

     As we were about to leave Quinn suggested we stay and have some family time. “We should go get something to eat and just be together for awhile.” I really didn’t want to go home so we readily agreed. As we sat down at Asian One I told everyone I’d informed Awesomez.

     “How’d she take it?” Quinn asked.

     “Well, she was devastated. I think she’s taken aback at how much she truly loved that big pig. She was talking about his floppy ears and thinking of him running. She said he put the bar pretty high.You know he used to sit on her feet and lean on her so she’d pet him. She was crying and is just so angry like Tom. And he’s beyond furious and wants that dog gone tonight.”

     “I don’t blame him.” Quinn agreed putting her napkin in her lap. 

     “The vet and I told Amber the dog should be destroyed. I hate to say it, but you don’t know what it could attack next.” I said sipping my mug of hot water. I was worried about Henry. He just sat at the table motionless, not crying and not saying a word. He was shutting down. I reached over and squeezed his hand. The phone rang as we were dipping in to our hot tom yum gai. It was Alexis, he’d called Lisa’s phone. “Oh! She is. How badly?....” Paralyzed with fear we all sat still our eyes boring into Lisa waiting for her to tell us the extent of Midge’s injuries.

     “She’s not too bad, Alexis is going to clean her up. She has bites on the back of her neck and ears and she’s limping. She’ll need antibiotics.”

     “Helix got her first, and Norton saved her.” I said.

     “Yeah, it looks that way,” Lisa agreed.

     “Just like Lloyd. He sacrificed himself.” Henry said tears rolling down his face again. “I just can’t believe that pig is gone. Remember when he chased me around the van for my Nutella and peanut butter sandwich? You know I loved him so so much.” We all sat silently glad to be together.

   (Our Norton, "who somehow without words touched everyone he knew"- Awesomez)

--

 

 

 

 

November 25th Hair Today

 (Festive - ok it's a little Christmas looking, but it'll do pig)

 
    All was right with the world. The house was relatively clean despite the power outage and the pipes freezing. Alexis had been  cast some sort of spell and water had magically appeared out of the faucets last night.

   (in Tom's coat wearing pjs - putting coats on goats during the middle of the night in the extreme cold)

 (The goats are not playing Survivor - this is a full service barn - everyone is warmer now)

 (Not nearly as stylish as my friend, Sandra - but staying warm during the power outage - when the house got to 42 degrees- the stove is gas so we can still make coffee)

    The table was set, snow covered the ground and clung to the trees in Bing Crosby fashion. I’d cranked up the heat to 67 to keep my out of town guests’ teeth from chattering. The house was cozy and lively, people coming and going, cartoons blaring, hot coffee, sautéed onions and roasting turkey mingled in the air confirming it was indeed another Thanksgiving.

    Toby had flown in with Dean the night before and had been up promptly at 6:30 chopping. No, she didn’t want to use a chopper, she’s Italian. The Donaldson’s had arrived with the prodigal son, Mike in tow and were laughing and chatting over a wheel of brie drizzled with our newest Stinger™ - “The Naughty Nana” a ginger and pepper blend. 

 (Toby in her apron and Bruno in his coat take a break from the meal preparations)

   (Chris in the background - Toby Ann Forlenza)

 (Clearly Dean has gone to the dogs)

    Ayumi (pronounced “I-U-Me), Henry, Quinn, Dean and Phoebe’s old babysitter was bustling about cooking cranberriies while her 7-year-old daughter Kaya played 57 rounds of tick-tack-toe with Quinn on the whiteboard in the kitchen. It was wonderful so nice to have Ayumi with us - she and her high school friend Ilsa had been the kids sitters since Ayumi was 15 and Henry was about a year and a half. I'd leave him with Ilsa sitting and come home to find Ayumi. They both lived in the neighborhood and would just let themselves in, use the pool and hang-out. 

    "Ayumi you should move up here," Mike suggested emphatically as he shoveled in some rosemary bread slathered Naughty Nana. "This is by far my favorite flavor," he informed me. 

    "Well," she said cautiously, "I do want to get out of Los Angeles. Life is such a grind what with being three hours in the car everyday." She lamented.

 

  (Ayumi & Kaya after sledding and building their first snowman)

 (Kaya and Henry snuggle)

   (Mike has been missing in action for two months - upon receiving death threats from me - he re-emerged for the holiday - Mike laughs easily - and is afraid of me - two of his best traits)

   

    “Hey hon, can you get the second oven working?” Toby asked. “I have a few more things to put in.”

     Taking a sip from my coffee cup I reached up to the cupboard and grabbed a box of stick matches. Absently I took the middle griddle off the old O’keefe & Merritt and began pressing and turning the red button Pablo my old plumber taught me to do. This is supposed to secure the ability to hold the flame.

     Putting my coffee cup down on the counter took a nibble of brie and bent down and opened the broiler confirming the pilot was out. Striking the match I reached up with my right hand to turn on the oven. I guess someone had already turned it to 500 degrees. In split seconds it was all over. I heard the “whoop” and saw the plume of flame leaping toward me. Somehow I knew it wasn’t going to stop. I slammed my eyes shut. I could feel the flames reach my face and my hair crackling. Reflexively I turned my head pushing my self away with my right hand and throwing myself face down on the wood floor. I didn’t move a muscle assessing whether or not I was on fire. In between the screams of surprise that filled the kitchen I chastised myself for the crumbs on the floor now grinding into my cheek. I could hear my sister’s voice through the din. She was going to throw her scarf around me to put out the flames. Toby’s hand reached in. Everyone was asking if I was all right. My sister who I’ve lived through about a million tragedies with started making Michael Jackson jokes before I could confirm I still had my vision.

     I was scared really scared.

    I felt a sharp searing pain in my left eye and my right hand really hurt. Crumpled up, Toby and my sister lifted me to the sink. Lisa hugged me and Dr. Donaldson took charge, “Keep your hand under the cold water. Quinn, get her ice, Toby do you have any eye solution? Let’s get her upstairs.”

 Once I opened my eyes and Lisa examined me asking all the familiar questions, “Does your eye feel scratchy?”

     “No.”

     “Thank God.”

   (no more bangs :( -- the end of the world to someone who hides behind them -  and what's left of my scorched and melted hair- although you can't tell - my eyebrows are crunchy)

    “I’m grateful I can see.”

     “You dodged a bullet," she said squeezing my hand, "and sorry my Michael Jackson jokes were perhaps a few minutes premature.” 

 “We’ve had worse Thanksgivings,” I said smiling as much as I could manage. She nodded knowingly thinking back to Thanksgivings past – our grandmother Irene died on Thanksgiving, and there was the Thanksgiving, we were held at gunpoint…"Ahh memories, this will be the Thanksgiving Denise burned her hair off."

     Now that our medical fears had been assuaged, Quinn came bounding in to assess the cosmetic. Scrutinizing my hair she turned to Phoebe, “I think what we need is to first deep, deep condition, can you get some mayonnaise and conditioner in here?” She turned her attention back to me and said in her most consoling Quinn-tone, “Don’t worry, you still have a little bit of eye lash, your eyebrows are singed but some are still sort of there and your bangs? Well, hats are really in this time of year. I saw some really cute ones at American Eagle.”

(getting the treatment in my skull pajamas and towel)

   (Quinn my hairdresser, me now in my pajamas and towel -covered in mayonnaise and conditioner all over and the lovely assistant - Phoebe - treating me in my yet to be renovated bathroom)

 (with saran wrap around my head - we sat down and were grateful - especially me)

 (Quinn is grateful for mashed potatoes)

 (Everyone has fun playing games)

 (Henry wins Apples to Apples)

 (None of our farm turkeys were harmed in the preparation of dinner - before the snow - Frank looks a little motley, but Brad is coming into his own - Alice is his mate - Silence matches Frank)

 

April 11th Our "Q"

(I can not explain the lack of sound - except that Sony hates Macs)

 We’d barely checked into the motel after seeing the pigs, when Quinn pulled out a green box and opened it up.

            “Henry we’re going to get rid of that dark fuzzy thing above your lip. Right now!”

            Henry ran and hid behind the curtain while Tom flopped down on the bed. “ I like Margret Suzanne, but Henry’s suggestion of Midge suits her,” Tom announced.

            “Midge for the midget. I was called Gidget for a long time,” I reflected as Quinn pulled Henry from the beige curtains and into the bright sterile light by the long white counter. I looked over as she began pressing strips of wax across his lip and between his eyes.

“What’s with the eyebrows?” Henry demanded.

            “You’re on your way to a mono-brow. Girls hate that.” She’d uttered the magic words – girls hate that- and she knew it. I glanced at her. She was smiling knowing there wouldn’t be any more struggling; the spider had subdued the victim. “You need to wait a couple of minutes while it sets up,” she instructed.

            “He’s completely out matched,” Tom whispered. Nodding in agreement I settled in and watched in disbelief as the movie “Megladon” plodded along. To be clear, this is the type of movie you would only watch in a motel killing time. Or on a date in college, bringing to mind the second worst movie I’ve ever seen. “Q” a 1982 film about an overgrown flying lizard landing on rooftops in New York

  

            “Yeowwww!” Henry screamed like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

            “Oh stop it!” Quinn commanded looming over him. “I do this all the time. It just stings a little you’re a drama king just like your mom said”.

            “Mom!” Henry squealed.

            “It’s true,” I confirmed. 

            “It is,” Tom concurred, “but you do look red and splotchy”.

 (Q, the Winged Serpent)
 

He did look raw, and for a moment I thought of getting some ice from the vending machine, but by now it was the tail end of “Megladon” and I didn’t want to miss the part where the giant Octopus, his mortal enemy, which had thawed out of a glacier, strangled Megladon.

After the Octopus and Megladon predictably sank to the ocean floor for about six scenes, I thought we’d turn out the light and get some rest. We were here for Henry’s gymnastic meet. But no, it seems the only thing worse than Megladon is “Piranha” where the toothy little fellas get so big in South America they leap out of the water and eat helicopters. I turned over and drifted off as Henry, Tom and Quinn were screaming things like “Oh come on!”

“Doesn’t he think he’s going to be eaten?”

I woke up bright and early, got up and went to make some coffee. I opened the coffee pouch and placed the coffee pod in the tray, but when I went to pour water in the well of the coffee maker, I realized we didn’t have an actual coffee pot in the room. This couldn’t be. There was not a minute to lose. I threw my hair in a clip and I marched down to the lobby. Calmly as I could, without a morning cup of coffee, I explained the problem. The young girl smiled nervously back at me sizing up me and my mint green flannels. I could see she was worried she had a “situation” on her hands and quickly began searching for a carafe. I could imagine Quinn’s reaction to my pajama clad lobby appearance, but this was a desperate situation and after all I was presentable and my toes were freshly polished.

“I’m so, so sorry she said trying to manage me, you can have some of the coffee from the breakfast buffet while you wait. I’ll go to an unoccupied room and get you one,” she assured me. In the interim I did indeed pour myself a cup or two and grabbed one for Tom. The nervous girl with the bob did indeed return in a timely manner with a perfectly suitable glass pot and a couple of extra coffee packets. Whew. Crisis averted.

 (Quinn and Henry before the meet- Henry's face isn't that red - in this picture)
 

Henry began his meet with a bang. He got the highest score he’s ever gotten on floor. The next rotation he tackled his arch nemesis, the pommel and once again he received his highest score. Ever. Tom and I were busy calculating what he might end the day with if he just stayed even close to his average scores. But as I’ve learned recently, don’t count your turkey eggs before they hatch.

Henry bombed on rings getting almost two points lower than normal. Next was the vault. And he delivered, not his best, but pretty ding-dang good. I could hardly breathe as he began his parallel bar routine. I heard people in the crowd talking about the routine, but I was afraid to hope. It seemed good, really good as I waited nervously for the score. Good? When I saw Henry’s score flashed on the scoreboard in red lights I wanted to leap out of my seat. “That’s my boy who did that,” I muttered to myself. He’d gotten a 14.75. We were thrilled. Could this be happening? Could this be Henry’s meet? Tom began calculating All Around potential scores scenarios again. He’s always doing the math.

 

(perhaps it's time for a different video camera? Technical difficulties have plagued me long enough)

 (Henry doing his parallel routine)

“If Henry gets anywhere close to his lowest score on this event he’ll still get his highest All Around score ever,” Tom informed me. I was sure he’d be in the top three on the podium if he did that. But there I was counting my turkey eggs again. Henry did an incorrect sequence on the high bar because he was scared. He’d fallen a couple of weeks ago on the high bar and hit his feet doing his dismount. So despite our calculation, it was not to be, Henry ended the year in a heap of tears.

“I don’t even want to stay for the awards,” he lamented.

“You’re staying,” Tom laid down the law. “You’re going to support your team and you know you had a great meet for the most part. If you’d ended the day with your parallel routine, you’d be feeling great right now. I’m sure you’ll get something on p-bars,” Tom said pouring the daddy on.

“Hey, where are you and Quinn going?” Henry demanded as he saw us trying to sneak out.

“Mmm-um, we’re going to go and pick up the piggy’s while you and your father do the award thing,” I told him. As we made our way out of the gym, one of the mothers stopped me.

“Denise, is Henry OK? We were kind of worried about him when we saw the blotchy spots on his face. Is that from the pneumonia?” She asked concerned.

“Oh, no. He’s fine,” I said glaring at Quinn. “That’s nothing. Really,” I assured her as we escaped on our mission.

It was a maddening hour each way to get the pigs and there was no way around it. We tried a short cut that ended up being a long cut down one-way streets in Portland. However, with our trusty cell phone, Google Maps and my sister who’s been lost more times than any human being I know, we made it. “You better call Pea and Henry and tell them to get something to eat until we get back,” I instructed Quinn. You do not need to tell Quinn twice to make a phone call, it’s in her DNA, she gets it from her maternal side.

“Tom said Henry got six medals. One in every event except high bar. He got second in parallel bars. Some kid got a .1 higher then him, and he came in 9^th for All Around,” Quinn relayed.

“He must be feeling better,” I exclaimed relieved.

 (Henry - second place -parallel bars Level 6 - Region II)
 

“And HE didn’t want to stay for the awards,” Quinn mocked. “Ridiculous. He does look really red, don’t tell him I said that. Hey how about Barbara-Q? Get it? Barbecue, Barbara-Q," Quinn giggled at her own joke.

"I get it, and it is cute in a meat-eater-sort-of-way".

 The pigs turned out to be good travelers. The only sound you could here was "Hamilton’" snorting. It was silly to here snorting from a pig in my van as we drove through Portland.

“Are you kidding me, we’re going to put Irish in here too? Are you going to seduce him?” Quinn asked.

“What? Am I going to seduce him?” I asked flabbergasted. What were they teaching middle schoolers these days? What kind of talk was this?

“You know where you make him sleepy?” She said innocently.

“Oh, you mean sedate him. Yes, I am going to sedate him,” I laughed hearing Gilda Radner in the back of my mind, “That’s very different”.

We intently listened to or book while the kids rode with pigs in their lap’s most of the way. That is until we loaded the big boy, Irish. We’d called Jim at the border and he’d slipped Irish a mickey so he’d be nice and sleepy for the ride. 

 (Quinn and her lap pig)

 (The little girl and Henry ride home)

“He doesn’t even seem to notice them, The big boy is so tired and just wants to snuggle,” Quinn cooed. Then flatly, “Can we turn the book back on?”

“Sure,” I said as we headed north on the dark road. Everyone else fell asleep. Quinn hung in the longest trying to listen to the story. Tom kept forcing his eyes open every once in a while.

“You OK?” He’d ask, as he’d reach out and touch my arm. I was amused as I stopped for a cup of coffee at the Arco™ near Alderwood Mall. What was he going to do if I said “No,” he was certainly in no position to drive. As I drove along in the quiet of the night, Awesomez’s remarks crept back into my mind and irked me all over again. She’d said:

“Hamilton, Hammie? Like in ‘Toy Story’?” Like Hammie in Toy Story, Like Hammie in Toy Story.

“Toy Story! I am not going to have people think I named my pig after a character in “Toy Story”,” I said to no one in particular.

The tires crunched on the gravel as we pulled in to the driveway, Tom woke up like the dogs do when I get off the freeway. I hopped in and out and opened the gate. Tom got out after I drove in and closed it. Slowly we wound along the driveway in front of the pasture, as Tom sang softly holding my hand.

“And on this farm we have some pigs…” 

“EIEIO,” I crooned off key.

April 10th A Pig And A Poke

 (I run a flop house- Scarlett, Emmett, Alvin, Tabitha)
  

    Early Saturday morning, I got up before everyone else collected some eggs, brewed some coffee and whipped up a batch of maple, brown sugar French toast. We had to get on the road because we had an action packed day. There was a noon appointment to have our reunification lesson with public enemy number one, Irish, then we were meeting Mike for lunch before heading out to Sandy, Oregon. Sandy is just outside of Portland where Henry would be competing in the 5 State gymnastic Regional’s (Men’s Region II). Sandy also just happens to be the home of some cute little piggies - American Guinea Hogs. I’d arranged a “Farm Tour” so Tom could see if he liked them too. We’d gone last year to the same farm with Awesomez so Quinn, Henry and I were pretty sure we liked them already.

    First we picked up Quinn in Burlington at the Starbucks we used as a family meeting point then headed down toward Centralia where we were going to see Irish. The day had finally arrived for our canine college student to graduate.

    When we arrived, I was instructed to stand with my back toward Irish and when Jim walked up from behind me I was to take the braided leather leash, give Irish the command to “Heel!” and head out. There would be no “greeting” period no snuggling. We would simply set to work and let Irish know things had changed. I had an hour lesson on how to interact with my newly educated hound. While Tom, Quinn and Henry watched. Irish was not perfect, but neither was I. We both learned how to correct our mistakes. Henry couldn’t take the idea that he couldn't go up and hug Irish and so he went with Quinn to sit in the car.

  (Jim, me and the big boy, Irish)

 (Jim teaching me - the procedure)
 
     At the end of the lesson, I put Irish on a small rug in the reception area for a “thirty minute down” while we: Tom, Quinn, Henry, Me and Mike who’d arrived to join us for lunch, all got instructions about how to behave around the big boy. Irish all the while lay on the rug whimpering. He could see us plainly and had to constantly resist the temptation to leave his floor mat and walk in the room where we were all seated. This got to be too much for him at one point and I had to go and “correct” him by putting him back on the mat. When I returned, Henry had his head in his hands, his eyes watery.

     “I don’t like seeing you yank on him,” Henry responded to my quizzical look. It seems he and Grandpa Horn are kindred spirits when it comes to doggy discipline.

     “Henry he’s a big dog, he’s fine, but if you don’t get his attention, he’s not going to learn anything. Look at him now, he’s just fine,” Jim said firmly clearly not wanting his hard work to be undone by an overly emotional pubescent pre-teen. Henry wiped his eyes, nodded and looked away.

     Normally, owners pick-up their dogs when they take this instructional lesson. I would have loved to put the big guy in the back and left with him, but I couldn’t see taking him to the hotel this evening and leaving him in the car while Henry competed, so we arranged to leave Irish with Jim for one more day. Crying could be heard from the kennel as we pulled away. “Ohhhhh, the Big-un is confused,” Quinn whimpered. “He probably thinks we’re never coming back.” Henry stared at the kennel fence. He said nothing, but in my rearview mirror I saw him wipe away a tear.

     “But think how happy he’ll be when we come back tomorrow,” Tom urged parentally.

     On Jim’s recommendation we made our way to Country Cousins for lunch we passed pasture after pasture filled with various cattle. Quinn gazed out the window for sometime before speaking. “You know what I love about cows? Cows are my favorite animal because cows, no! I mean elephants!” She giggled at her own mistake.

     “What?” Tom shot back as he collapsed into laughter. “What did you just say?”

     “Well, I love how cows, I mean elephants will nurse another elephant’s baby,” Quinn informed us. Quinn an uncanny knack for saying something completely goofy providing us with endless amusement.

    "Oh Quinn, you're never going to hear the end of that one - it's almost as good the time you said you had six toes and were worried about the cost of pedicures." Henry whispered.

    "Whatever," Quinn harrumphed.    

 (Centralia, WA)

 (Pea, Quinn, Mike and - Henry as the dog)

 (Henry- the flower dog)

 (Tom and Quinn)
 

     After a delicious lunch of yak burgers (yes - yak burgers) with Mike the van was racing south again. Tom pushed the cd button and our murder mystery, “Caught”, resumed. Occasionally, someone would call to pause the story making a prediction or asking for a point of clarification but other than that we listened without interruption until we neared Sandy when Quinn moaned she didn’t want the story to be turned off.

    “You’re obsessed,” Tom accused. “Don’t you want to see the elephants? I mean pigs”. Tom teased.

    “Ha-ha, you’re so funny. I’m afraid we won’t finish the story before I have to go home. That’s what happened with that other mystery, “Down the Rabbit Hole,” she explained. “I never did hear the end,” her voice trailed off as we pulled into the driveway of Cascade Meadows Farm. “Oooooh! Look!” She squealed.

     “Piggies!” Henry yelled. “Do you think I’ll find another soul-pig?” he asked.

     “Any pig you talk your mother into taking home will become your soul-pig,” Quinn countered as they took off down the muddy driveway. Tom turned to me and gave me the I-know-we’re-leaving-here–with–a-pig-glance.

     “What you never know? I don’t even have a carrier. We might not want one,” I said in mock innocence. He arched an eyebrow my way and pulled his farm boots on.

     “And I’m a cow, I mean an elephant,” Tom mumbled.

  (Quinn, Henry and Tom wait for the pigs)
 

When the all the piglets came down off the hill you couldn’t help but smile. Their tubby bodies scampering was a sight to see. There were only two girls. The bigger girl, Jason and Kirk were keeping for themselves. The other one was a teeny tiny shy cutie pie we couldn’t help but want to pick up. Her nose was wrinkly and her ears stood straight.

  (a bunch of baby American Guinea Hogs)

 (the little girl)

 (my girl)

 (Denise hugs the girl pig)
     “I want her don’t you?” I said to Tom.

     “Of course I want her,” Tom agreed. “She’s adorable, she’s so petite, we should name her Petitie -but wait Petite’s already the name of our elephant – I mean a cow”. Tom continued to poke fun at Quinn.

     “Ha-ha,” Quinn responded snidely although she was used to it.

     “Then we need a boy!” Henry said as he began assessing the rest of the piglets.

     “You want one without a notch in it’s ear,” Kirk informed us, “those are suitable for her to breed with. They’re not related.”

  ( the little girl and Henry)

 (the floppy-eared boy)

 (Kirk talks to Tom while Henry assess)

 (shy pigs)
 

After careful consideration we narrowed the field to a couple of friendly boys. There was one boy with floppy ears who seemed braver than the little girl and another with upright ears, who was a bit shy but went everywhere with the little girl. We marked them both with pink nail polish so we could decide later. The name discussion ensued, Henry and I had been prepared with Hamilton Bonaparte – “Ham Bone” and Margaret Suzanne – “Piggy Sue”, but those weren’t for sure. Quinn wanted Evangeline for the girl but she liked Hamilton for the boy. Tom liked Piggy Sue.

 (fuchsia OPI nail polish marks- our selects)
 

    We talked to Jason and Kirk, the owners of the farm. Henry got a lecture about factory farming. “You like bacon right?” Henry nodded not sure he wanted to admit this.

     “And ham,” Henry added sheepishly his voice still horse.

     “Well then you’re adding to the torture of animals,” Kirk spat. “Wouldn’t you rather eat bacon with out all those chemicals and know that your pig lived a wonderful life until it’s last moment? Wouldn’t you rather know your bacon had a good life and didn’t live in a box without sunlight?” Henry looked up at Kirk his eyes grew wide. “I walk up to my pig that’s grazing in the pasture just like this one. Point my gun right here,” he said motioning to the top of the pig’s head and BAMM! His last minute was a happy pig moment. No fear, no torture.

     “Just think of them as dogs you can eat,” Jason chimed in.

     “Dogs you can eat?” Quinn said quietly. “That’s not helping. I’ve been doing a social action project about factory farming, and it’s horrible, but seriously? Dogs you can eat?”

     “I agree, the dogs you can eat thing is tough, but Kirk makes a good point, he’s right.” I reflected as we got in the car to head out. “I mean why do we eat pigs that are tortured and we don’t consider our own? The answer is we’re weak. I don’t know if I can do it. We’ll see,” I said mulling the idea over in my mind.  “You know that’s why your mother gave up pork.”

     “I know,” Quinn acknowledged.

     “They hired someone to come out and do it for them at first. I don’t think we could ever shoot a pig or actually pop a whole pig in the oven like they do,” Tom confessed.

     We stopped on the way to the hotel and picked up a moderately-sized dog carrier. Little Midge (short for midget) or Piggy-Sue or Evangeline was only about seven pounds. “It’s just like Maryruth said, “happy meat” Tom remembered. “I can’t think of the name of the steer she said she fed him for two years and then he fed her for two years. Was it Homer? Or something like that?”

     “I found that hard to hear when she said it, but kids we can’t have forty-two pigs on the farm. We just can’t. Some are going to have to be sold as meat and we’re going to have to butcher some. That’s the plain truth of it. Otherwise we can get two boys.” I waited for their answer.

     “I think we can live with it. I know if they’re not used as food, they will become extinct,” Henry said. “But Kirk acted as though I was going to have to shoot them myself” he recounted in disgust.

     “And I know it’ll be really hard, but I’ve seen enough of the factory farming to understand what he meant. Henry I’ll show you it’s absolutely disgusting.” Quinn added. “It’s enough to make me a vegetarian again.”

     We were getting piggies I thought. And we were in quasi-agreement as we pulled into the Peppertree motel in Beaverton. Quinn’s phone rang. It was Lindsey. Again. She wanted her opinion on the matter of all things swine to be heard. And when Lindsey wants to be heard you can hear her. We had already collected the information that she in fact wanted the floppy-eared fellow.

     “Now she wants you to name the pig, Wilbur,” Quinn relayed.

     “Wilbur? That’s like namiing a llama, Tony or Dali,” Tom responded as we trudged up the stairs loaded down with our bags.

     “Wilbur? No!” Henry said. “I like Hamilton”. I was exhausted and knew we had another long day tomorrow but heck we had piggys coming home.  I’d concede the floppy ears, but I was not caving into to Wilbur or Babe or even Arnold Ziffle. Let’s face it, no matter whose soul pigs they were, the kids would go off to swim parties, the movies and dances. I would be the one who was going to feed them and clean up after them for years to come. These were going to be my piggly-wigglys. My colonial farm set was about to be complete.

     “You look so happy,” Tom said pulling me in close. “You really do love them,” he said softly. I nodded folding into his arms. I could check off another dream come true on my list.

        

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

February 22nd Lost & Found

 (Searching for Henry) (Crazy Canada guy)
 

 (Swedish fan)

 (USA - fans)

 (Canada Moose)
 

 (Chinese fans- ready to cheer)
 

     “Look for the goat hat!” Phoebe called as we made our way through the tented makeshift section of the venue. In no time flat we promptly located Olympic goat boy standing near the entrance next to a group of Chinese curling zealots. He was waving literally trying to flag us down.

     “I turned on my phone, but no one else had there’s on,” he recalled tears streaming down his face. Quinn and Lindsey peered at me sheepishly and we shrugged.

  (Henry trying to get someone to notice him)

    We sat down in our seats and soaked in the atmosphere. The cool blues and greens of the 2010 games were tranquil. Perfect for the winter. The flags flying over the ice filled me with a sense of pride. I remembered sitting in front of the television with my parents watching Jim McKay on ABC as Munich unfolded. I thought of the “Up Close and Personal” segments that inspired me and put me in complete awe of anyone who could dedicate themselves through adversity. I thought back to when my father had had Mark Spitz over to swim in our pool. Lisa and I had been legends of Round Meadow Elementary. I couldn’t believe I was finally sitting at an Olympic event. I could feel my eyes well up.

 (The flags)

 (The stadium- who knew curling was such a big event)

 (the official beginning)
 

     “Mom? Can you paint my face?” Henry asked whipping out some pens he'd had the foresight to bring along.

     “Ok, but I’m not your father,” I reminded him.

     “I know, but you’re here,” he said.

     “Gee thanks,” I said grabbing the pens. I suddenly had a vision and got to work. It took me longer than I thought.

     “Not bad Denise, will you do me next?” Phoebe asked.

     “I guess, OK all done,” I said after working diligently for some time. 

     “Thanks Mama,” Henry said and looked me directly in the eyes, “So it says Zimbabwe right?” 

     “You’re just like your father,” I said smacking him.

 (Henry with his USA face)
 

  (Phoebe and Henry in support of the USA Ladies Curing team)
 

 
 (I used a slightly different blue on Phoebe - and then touched up Henry's USA)

 (Lindsey -with Phoebe behind the flag-cheering on our team - with a huge Chinese cheering section behind her
 

We bought the little radio they sold at the concession stand so we’d know what was going on. And actually were lucky enough to sit next to a couple who knew quite a bit about curling. We learned about peeling and how heavy the rocks are.

     “I heard they were equivalent to three marmots,” Henry chimed in.

     “You know that’s how they named Whistler,” Lisa added, “because of the whistling sound marmots make”.

     “Really?” Chris marveled at his wife’s prowess. Lisa laughed. 

    "I'm not really that brilliant I heard it on the opening ceremonies, you fell asleep".

     We were glued to the match. We willed our stones toward the target as our Olympic team battled Sweden. We didn't exactly understand the game, but we traded around the radio in an attempt to get a more insightful appreciation. Nonetheless, we agonized as Sweden systematically knocked our stones out of the target area dashing our hopes of a win. As we sat waiting for Sweden to throw their stone, wondering if they'd throw a guard to block or a stone to score, we heard,

  (unfortunately it was a waste of $20.00- the broadcasters barely spoke of the event. They yammered on about all sorts of other topics rather than giving insight into what was happening)

 (Team USA Curling)

 (Sweden's Ladies Olympic Curling Team)

 

 (Team USA in scoring position)

 (Henry and Chris share a high-five)

 (Everyone watches nervously)
 
  (Chris being Chris)
 

 (Curling video assist)

 ("So do you think that's the 

Zam-Broomie?" Lisa cracked herself up)
 

 (Sweden takes a moment to strategize after Team USA threw there stone )
 

    “Go Sweden Go!” From Quinn?

     “Uh, you do know we’re playing them right?” Lisa said dripping with sarcasm.

     "Yes, but no one has cheered for them all night,” Quinn informed her.

     “They are killing us you realize?” Lisa responded.

     “How would you feel if no one cheered for you in the Olympics?” Quinn answered. “I’m on the world team”.

     “Me too,” Lindsey concurred. And they joined in as the Chinese fans did their call and response chant again. In Chinese.

     “I don’t know what the heck we’re saying but we’re coming as close as we can,” Quinn laughed until she could barely sit up.

 (Quinn & Lindsey Go Chinese!)
 

    "“They’re probably saying – you don’t know what we’re saying but we’re going to kick your butts,” Lisa laughed. “Hey look, there’s the family from Orcas Island.”

     Meanwhile patriotism was a live and well and residing in my son who couldn’t stop waving the flag Chris bought as we walked in the stadium. A nearby cameraman kept shooting Henry as two Canadian women who had a little too much alcohol heckled him relentlessly.

    “C-A-N-A-D-A - every day -And Stanford sucks too!” She sneered at Henry, “Anything’s better even Brown and Dartmouth!” Henry said nothing, kept his eyes straight ahead but waved his flag again. I turned to my sister, who was now sitting next to me.

 (Heckler)

    “Um, they do realize those schools are in the United States right?” I whispered to my sister.

     “They’re sore because they lost the hockey game today,” Henry said insightfully.

     “I don’t care! Excuse me! Excuse me! Ladies! Do you realize you’re yelling at a 12-year old at the Olympic games? He’s only twelve, please leave him alone,” Lisa defended Henry.

    "Huh, we thought he was a freshman," she murmured.

 (all the matches are right next to each other - everything happening at once.)

  (I understand one of the curlers on Team Germany was 4 to 5 months pregnant)

 (China vs. Canada)

 (Proof we were there)

 

 (Henry Quinn and Lindsey pose)
 
 
     After Lindsey and Quinn and the rest of us helped cheer China to victory over Canada in a nail-biting shootout we began the long cold trek back to the train. Phoebe was practically walking in her sleep when Henry hailed down a taxi. Chris tried to make a run for it feigning a limp when he saw a man in a wheelchair was the other potential passenger.

     “Chris! I think you can go to Hell for that!” Lisa yelled. And we walked on.

     “1-2-3-where’s Lindsey?”

     “I’m right here!”

     At the signal light just before the train we ran into a group of American flags.

     “Denise? Is that you?” I couldn’t have been more surprised who would know me in Canada? “We were at curling too! Wasn’t it great? I didn’t know anything about it before but it was exciting to see that shoot out!” he said with enthusiasm giving me a hug. “Hey, I’m Joe” he said turning to Henry who put out his hand.

     “Joe’s going to be our new tenant,” I explained.

     “Nice flag,” Henry admired.

 (Fireman Joe Spring)
 

     “You too,” Joe laughed.

     “Amy’s moving out?” Quinn lamented. I gave her the elbow to shut up.

     “Yes, Amy has to live closer to be on call for the hospital she works for in Mt. Vernon. So Joe and his girlfriend Kate and their dog Rugby will be moving in. Joe’s was a history major, lived in France and is a fireman,” I informed the group and bid Joe farewell.

     Once on the midnight train, we decided to make a long evening even endless.

 (everyone slowed down the moment the train began to move)

 (even Canada lost their pep)
 

     “C’mon let’s go see the flame,” Lisa encouraged. “You know you’ll be so bummed if you don’t,” she said to Chris.

     “We’re all up for it aren’t we?” I asked the kids, who sleepily nodded. And so after a short snooze on the train they rallied. We asked some of the volunteer Olympic "Smurfs" which way to go and they instructed us it was only a short twenty minute walk. So we marched along down the streets of Vancouver. There was no denying it is a lovely city. 

 (Denise and Lindsey en route to the flame)
 

 (we keep walking toward the flame)
 

     When the flame finally came into view, it took my breath away. I know it's just fire, but I'm an emotional basket-case and it's symbolic of so much more. Peace, unity, sacrifice, determination. My eyes welled up again. People from every country speaking in different languages helped each other take pictures of their families. And then there they were, our Orcas Island family. We took their picture and they took ours. We smiled, shook hands and shared one of the most memorable moments in our lives.

 (Holding the flag- Henry marches in)
 

 (The FLAME)

 (me, Henry,Chris, Quinn, Phoebe,Lisa, Lindsey)
 

 (Our Olympic friends from Orcas Island)
 

    Just then, my phone rang. “Hello?” 

    “Hey! I saw you guys on CNBC!” Tom yelled into the phone.

     “Really? Tom saw us on TV!”

    "OHMIGOSH TOM SAW US ON TV" Phoebe squealed.

    “Yep! I could see Lisa and the face painting," Tom confirmed, "and Quinn and Lindsey chanting with the Chinese? What was that all about?” 

     “They’re on team world,” I informed him.

     "We’re at the flame now".

    "Oh I was wondering, it's really late," He said concerned.

    I’ll call you when we get home,” I assured him, "but I don't think we'll be there until about 3:00AM"

     Exhausted, we retracing our steps when Chris started walking toward a hotel. He figured we could pick up a cab from there to our car as we didn’t know where were now in relation to where we parked.

     As we walked up Chris asked, “Hey can we call a cab from here?”

     “Um, Andrew do we call cabs for Americans?” one of the guys laughed to the other.

     “Come on now,” Lisa joined in, “It’s the only way to get us out of the country”.

     “In that case, where do you want to go?” Chris told him the cross streets. “Nope, you don’t want a cab you’re only three blocks away. If you’re tired, have the kids carry you” he smiled. “Another boy with an American flag – how many are there anyway?” We were all enjoying the good-natured rivalry trading barbs and the kids loved the attention.

     “OK everyone follow me,” Chris bellowed. It was about 1:00 in the morning by now, but strangely no one was complaining or really very tired anymore. We were again filled with excitement of the day and we knew where we were going.  Henry, Lindsey and I were separated by about a block from the rest of the group when a man jumped out of the shadows practically giving me a heart attack. He raised his hand for Henry to give a high five. I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt vulnerable and wanted to catch up with the rest of the group.

     “Mama, you know, this is the most American I’ve ever felt,” Henry said as we continued walking back to the car.

     Behind us we heard footsteps getting closer on the quiet street. I glanced behind me to see a Canadian man dressed in red and white from head to toe. He was a large guy who kept gaining on us slowly. As we were all about to cross the street he yelled with shocking venom

    “F&*@ You Kid!”  directly at Henry.I worried at what Henry would do. I didn’t want any violence. The man was obviously drunk. But Henry was only twelve, so I had no idea how he would handle the situation and there wasn’t time to discuss it. I held my breath as I saw Henry turn to the man.

     “That was nice,” he responded sweetly and walked on. I could breathe. He did have a brain in his head.

    Shaken, a bit Lindsey, Henry and I stopped to regroup once the belligerent hockey fan veered around a corner. I hugged Henry and Lindsey told him how great he'd handled the situation. Just then, Henry pulled an American flag out of some weeds in a planter. 

    "Mama look! Someone lost their flag! Can I keep it?" He asked.

    I suppose so, we're in Canada and no one's coming back for it at this hour," I relented.

    "Look it's got a signature in the stars!" He exclaimed. "I wonder whose name this is." He marveled, "Do you suppose it's an Olympian?"

    "It certainly could be," I surmised as we walked down the lonely street.

 (the yet unknown signature)
 

    We piled in the car and after filling tummies with hamburgers and fries the kids fell asleep. Lisa, Chris and I drove in silence chit chatting here and there about some of the exciting parts of the day until we got to the border. I took out the passports “1-2-where’s Lindsey’s?” I mumbled to myself as I dug into the camera bag again and pulled it out.

     The border agent asked where we’d been, shared in the glory of the hockey game and cajoled with Chris. “Welcome Home folks, have a good night,” he said as we drove through.

     “London 2012?” Chris suggested.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

February 21st Olympic Odyssey

 (Lindsey)

     Lindsey had a whole week off of school for mid-winter break and since her mother would be teaching skiing lessons at Mammoth all week she begged Awesomez to let her come to the farm.

     “Do you really think you’re up for another one of my children?” Awesomez asked me over the phone.

     “Is that some sort of warning?” I asked. “Actually, I just hope Lindsey isn’t bored. I don’t have anything big planned,” I explained.

     I went to Seattle with Nick to pick her up while my dad took Henry to gymnastics. Everyone was excited to see her, especially her brother. 

 ("The Big-un" Irish was especially happy to see Lindsey)
  (Lindsey snuggles The Big Boy - Irish)
 

During the days Lindsey helped me with farm chores and errands, during the afternoons she went to gymnastics with Henry or volleyball with Quinn and saw Nick at night.

     She saw Grandpa Horn teach band, she helped with the judging at one of Henry’s meets and she met all of Quinn’s friends. She did homework, painted and kept me company.

  (Lindsey sets to painting)
 

 (Grandpa Horn talks to the band)

 (Henry and Lindsey listen to Grandpa Horn)

 (Lindsey flips)

 (Lindsey lands)
 

 (Lindsey works with the ring judge)
  (Nick - hanging out)
 
 
     On Saturday while at Henry’s gymnastic meet, Chris turned to me and said, “We were kind of thinking of driving up to Vancouver tomorrow, you game?”

     “You want to go to the games? The tickets were $600.00 the last time we checked,” I said.

     “Well, we’d like to get into something, Lisa’s checking for some last minute deals but really we thought we just go up and soak in some Olympic atmosphere and see what we see,” he offered.

     I thought about it, I’d had plans we were finally going to try and go get Petite, but that could be postponed. Then there was the problem of Nick. He couldn’t seem to follow any of the rules at home or school so he was not going to be allowed to join us. And then I wasn’t sure if Lindsey even had her passport. We couldn’t go without Lindsey. Luckily, Lindsey’s brilliant mother had the foresight to pack her passport. We were good to go.

     The next morning, we met the Donaldson clan at Nugent’s Corner and all piled into their van. Henry had hurriedly painted red U-S-A posters to take with us “just in case”. The paint was still wet so we put them on the dashboard to dry and headed north.

     Crossing into Canada is one of my least favorite things to do, but if we wanted to go to the Olympics, we had no choice. I prepared the kids. “Now remember, these people have not one ounce of humor in their bodies. You don’t kid, joke or in any way say something sarcastic. Don’t get nervous, just speak if you’re spoken to, don’t add any information, just answer the question being asked”. I instructed.

     “And don’t forget your name!” Lisa added.

     “What?” Lindsey questioned.

     “Henry got so nervous once, he forgot his name,” Quinn informed her.

     “It was just enough of a hesitation for the guy to think I’d kidnapped him” I said dryly, giving my child a look.

     We approached the border and took a collective breath. If the kids didn’t believe me before, they did afterward. Lindsey was grilled and questioned until she was close to a nervous wreck. She answered everything calmly as the Canadian border guard checked all the missing child reports.

     “Who makes you breakfast?” He looked at her seriously. I wondered what she was gong to say. I hadn’t really made a real breakfast.

     “She does,” Lindsey said pointing to me.

     “Do you know her name?” He asked seriously.I worried she was going to forget my name.

     “Denise,” Lindsey answered. Whew.

     “Do you have a note from the mother?” He asked me.

     “No. I don’t, but she did provide the passport,” I offered.

     “You see where I’m going with this?” He asked.

     “Yes Sir and I’d be glad you were asking these questions if it was my child,” I said knowing I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but feeling as though I somehow looked guilty.

     “Do you have any proof of your flight?” He asked. And with all the excitement of a contestant on “Let’s Make a Deal.” Lindsey answered

     “Yes! I have my airline ticket!” She searched her pursed and offered him her ticket. He let us pass.

     "That was certainly the golden ticket, it’s what tipped the scales in our favor. Way to go Lindsey,” Chris praised her.

     “You handled that beautifully,” Lisa added, “Denise do you make breakfast?”

    “I know, I was wondering if Cheerios™ and bagels counted,” I smirked.

     “It’s a good thing you warned me,” Lindsey said depleted.

     From there we made our way onto the King’s Highway and set our course.

     “How long until we get there?” Phoebe asked somewhat predictably.

     “I have no idea, Honey. You act as though I’ve been there. We’re just figuring it out as we go,” Chris informed her as the glare of Henry’s USA posters baked in the sunshine reflecting on the windshield.

  (Henry's U S A sign reflecting)
 

    We parked and joined the party that was Vancouver. Walking down the packed streets you could feel the goodwill. We formed a buddy system, I took pictures of the kids in what they were wearing – just in case – and we set up our if-you-get-lost plan.

  (Canada hats)
 

    “Look there’s Italy!” Henry called out.

 (Italy)
 

     “And Russia!” Lindsey yelled as she saw a red jacket walk by.

 

     “I want one of those USA hats,” Phoebe announced.

     “I want a pin,” Lisa said, “I didn’t get one in ’84 when I went to the equestrian events and I really want one this time”.

     “I want tickets to an event,” Henry insisted. “I don’t care what it is, I just want to go to something”. And so did I. So Lisa, Henry, Phoebe and I took up the hunt as Quinn, Lindsey and Chris meandered slowly captivated by the street carnival. Every time I turned around I couldn’t help but count the kids. I felt like I was on a field trip.

 (Bronze-colored street performer)

 (Broadcast booth in Robson Square)

 (Free zip line over the city - 6 hour wait)

 (Zip line launch next to the flag)

 (painted Canadians)

 (a building in Vancouver)

 (flags fly everywhere)

 (the Dutch)

 (Olympic mascot)

 (Lindsey clowns)

 
 
  (Sweden)

 (Nike™)

 (yeah for our team)

 (the private family entrance for competitors relatives - dreams were being dreamed)
 
 
  (Henry, Lindsey, Quinn, and Phoebe)

 (Vancouver 2010)
 
 
  (Everyone has spirit)

 

 (Henry, me, Phoebe, Lisa, Quinn and Chris)
 
 
       “1-2-3-where’s Lindsey?” I asked.

         “I’m right here,” she said practically under my arm.

         Not knowing where we were going, we followed the crowd across Vancouver in a hurried pace. We didn’t know where but we knew we had to get there soon if we wanted tickets. Henry approached every scalper he passed, but they were mostly buying not selling.

     “Your mother would be crying by now,” I told Lindsey as she caught up.

     “I know, right? She’d still be back at the car. She walks so slowly,” Lindsey said laughing.

     “I’m so happy to hear you use an adverb,” I gushed.

     “You’re such a teacher,” Lindsey smirked as we were in a half jog along the street.

     “Why are we going so fast?” Lindsey asked.

     “’Cause we might miss something.”

 (en route to the ticket office) (Blast we were behind Captain Canada)
 

     Lisa, Phoebe, Henry and I broke into a run, moving ahead of the pack as we approached the Olympic ticket window. I knew my sister and we both were thinking these people walking near us might oust us out of our potential Olympic experience. We got to the line and eventually to the window.

     “Is there anything? Anything within a modest budget?” she asked the ticket agent. “We need seven seats”.

     “Seven? Wow. Let me look”. And she looked and she looked and we waited anxiously. “I have seven seats to women’s curling tonight”.

     “Curling,” Lisa turned to the kids now surrounding us, “Do you guys want to go to curling? Should we spend the money?”

     “Hell Yes!! I’ll go to anything,” Henry yelled. 

    "Henry you gave up swearing for Lent," I reminded him.

    "Is Hell a swear word?"

    "YES!" Lindsey said.

     “I don’t know anything about it, but I’m up for curling,” Quinn agreed.

     “Is that the one where they use the little brooms?” Phoebe asked.

     “Yes, it is, does that sound ok?”

     “Sure it’s the Olympics,” Phoebe agreed.

     “I’m with Henry I’ll go to anything,” Lindsey answered.

     “Heck yeah, whooo! hooo! Curling!!! Let’s do it!” Chris cheered in great zeal. As we stood there basking in our Olympic triumph we noticed a family standing nearby somewhat despondent. They obviously didn’t get any tickets.  Noticing them, Lisa walked up and tried to help.

     “Did you try getting seats for curling?” Lisa asked the woman. As it turned out they were from Orcas Island and no she hadn’t tried curling. So she got back in line and scored 5! Happily, we all struck up a conversation before departing for the curling match? Curling meet? Curling game? Curling event? Or curling tournament? We weren’t sure.

  (proof we are really going)

 (Lisa at the ticket office)
 
     Tickets in hand we were a bit more relaxed and ready to learn about curling. After riding a train packed like a sardine the Canadian equivalent of BART where I counted at every stop, “1-2-3-where’s Lindsey?”

     “I’m right here,” she said.

  (On the train after it thinned)

 (Lindsey and Phoebe walk and walk)

 (pretty Vancouver)
 
  (Lindsey and Henry- ready to order)
 
      We stopped at a Chinese restaurant for dinner where the kids had their own chopstick freestyle event commentated by the Amazing Donaldson. Afterward we set out walking the rest of the distance to the stadium. I was certainly getting all my steps in for Weight Watchers I thought.

     “You won’t believe it, but a cabbie just asked me where the stadium is,” Chris laughed as we all continued walking. We walked and we walked and we walked first down a busy street and then into a residential neighborhood. There nary a sign marking the route. If it hadn’t for the rest of the curling crowd we never would have found it.

 (Quinn, Phoebe, Lindsey and Lisa on the move)
 

 (lots of details)
 

 (security screening)

 (we're in!)

 (The Chinese are ready for curling)
 

    Excitedly we went in and found our seats. “1-2-where’s Henry? He’s not here,” I informed the rest of the confused group.

     “He was with us at the entrance,” Lisa reminded me.

     “He’s supposed to turn his cell phone on if he’s lost,” Quinn reminded me.

     “Do you think he will?” I asked getting mine out and about to push the button.

     “No,” Quinn and Lindsey answered as we all hurried back on a sweep of the grounds. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. My father had filled me with too much child stealing information. My mind sorting through similar memories looking for a match as I ran. I remembered another time Henry had disappeared in a public place. It was in Macys when he was two. I was shopping with my friend, Laura, Phoebe’s godmother. We had just turned our heads for a moment and he was GONE. Frantically we looked, and eventually found him hiding in one of the rounders...

January 30th Never Give Up Never Surrender

(Quinn straightening her hair forthe day)

    Saturday was to be a lazy day. We had no real plans, I thought I might meet up with some friends, but that didn’t work out. Quinn and I called around searching for a cheap pedicure, but to no avail. We had breakfast, a few pots of coffee and watched Jodie Foster kick butt in “Flight Plan” when her kid was taken, before heading out for the day.  Now that we had Tom’s truck we were good to go. Anywhere we wanted.

(Grandpa Horn is addicted to email)

    One of the reasons we brought Quinn with us was to see the Stanford Campus. She is after all going to high school next year and although she may not have her sites set on Stanford, Chris, Lisa, Tom and I thought seeing as many campuses as possible might inspire her to new heights.

 

    So we told her about the tower and the hospital and of course drove around. We went to the union and pointed out the post office, but what caught young Quinnderella’s eye was the line of “Pink” Stanford wear offered at the bookstore. It was cute, I’ll admit, but more than I was willing to spend so Quinn weighed her options and decided to pay the balance. Smart girl. She’s learned young wishing you could go back and purchase that one special item is a bummer. I still think about a knotty pine armoire with notes tucked in it from a soldier during WWII but that was another time. I had money.

 

    Anyway, after my dad spent time emailing at the computer center we head off to the Ford Pavilion to buy our tickets for the college meet at 7:00PM. There was no parking nearby so I pulled over and let Tom out.

 

    “I’m going to go in with you. I think I get a special discount because I’m cripple,” Grandpa Horn smiled.

 

    “Grandpa! It’s a senior discount!” Quinn yelled.

 

    “Oh I thought it was because I was feeble.”

 

    “Grandpa!” Henry joined in trying to discipline my father.

 

    “Kids, I could write a book and call it Crap My Father Says.” My father feigns hard of hearing smiled broadly at this.

 

    When they returned Tom had a handful of admittance wristbands and a program which Henry quickly started thumbing through. “Hey, my name isn’t in here!” Henry said with a twinge of panic.

 

    “What?” I said with a pit in my stomach. “Pea, you’d better go talk to Chari or Howie, I saw her go inside while we were waiting.”

 

    “Who are they?” My dad asked.

 

    “The owners of Victory Gymnastics. Henry is competing for Victory with Coach Ray,” I explained.

 

    Tom left and in a very short time came back grumbling “It doesn’t look good. The meet is full and Henry isn’t registered. I spoke to Howie and I was encouraged and then I spoke to Ray and he didn’t think Henry could get in.”

 

“Are you kidding? Give me his USAG card. I’m not leaving here until he’s in,” I stated flatly.

 

    “That’s why I love you,” Tom said following me back to the gym.

 

    “Excuse me? Can you point me in the direction of the Meet Director?” I asked calmly and firmly.

 

    “May I help you?” The woman asked nicely.

 

    “I don’t think so. I need the Meet Director,” I said again. I wasn’t going to waste my time going through the chain of command when I knew who the decision maker was.

 

    “Well, I don’t know where he is, but that lady over there registers competitors.” I followed her gaze and marched over.

 

    She smiled warmly as I explained my predicament.  I told her how many years Henry had competed. I dropped names. I told her of the mix-up and that we’d flown in for the event and then I said, “and his grandfather flew in from Paris,”A knot was growing in the pit of my stomach.

 

    “And he hasn’t seen him compete since level 4” Tom added in a well synchronized attack. The woman smiled and nodded her understanding.

 

    “I’m sure we can get him in. Follow me.” I would have followed her anywhere. We went behind the scenes and found her big register book. We filled out the necessary paperwork and I wrote the check.

 

    “Just a moment, I have to get final approval from the Meet Director.” I knew it. The Meet Director listened and looked over at us just as Coach Ray walked over to see how it was going.

 

    “Ray?” The Meet Director started, “Is this true, do you coach this Henry?”

 

    “Yes, Henry, he’s my boy. I fly up to Washington every week to coach him” Ray said with a gleam in his eye. “Denise and Tom they’re going to buy me a house and I’ll go up there full time.” Ray might be a strict Chinese in many ways, but his wife and children are Americans – he was bound to soften over time.

 

    Henry was in and I could breathe again. We went back to the car to find Henry in tears he was so worried.

 

    “You’re in buddy boy,” Tom informed him. There was a collective sigh of relief as we told the story. “And Ray really wants you to do your best,” Tom added.

 

    It must have worked because despite many of the Victory boys flying off the pommel, Henry faced his arch nemesis and got a personal best. In fact, he got a personal best on three events and took fourth on floor.

(Henry with Parker his brother Sawyer and Cabryn)

(Cabryn Iverson wears her orange socks for Henry - )

(Henry doing his lever on the rings)

(Stanford handstand contest)

(my sorority sisters  Laura and Cynthia Lynn)

(my cousin Paul Haenel in back, my uncle Larry Haenel and Grandpa Horn

(Henry gets 4th on floor)

 (Sho Nakamori - almost certainly a future olympian & Henry)
 

(The Iversons)
 

    After the competition there were margaritas and Henry discovered guacamole. We played “Ticket to Ride”, spent time with our Iverson’s and ate breakfast at Hobees – just like we do every year.

 

(Denise and my little cousin Paul)

(Henry, Sawyer and Parker enjoy the jacuzzi while Susan and I try to catch up- nakie Cabryn has been edited out so her reputation won't be ruined)

(Henry demonstrates his skill on fantasticcontraption.com)

(Henry and his girl)

 

January 29th Planes, Trains and Automobiles

 (clearly I need to dust-my room is always the last cleaned)
 
     The alarm jarred me awake at 4:30AM. Terrified I would fall back asleep I shot out of bed. Quickly raced down stairs and hit the coffee then headed for the dryer and checked my tennis shoes. I did not want damp tennies. I fed the dogs, cats and headed back upstairs to roust the boys.

     Nick was understandably reluctant burying his head under a pillow. He’d worked until the early hours of the morning on a China essay, but nonetheless, we had to get going. Henry and I were meeting my dad and Quinn at the airport to catch a flight to Oakland so Henry could compete at Stanford this weekend.

     “Nicky, if you don’t get up. I’ll have to sing a good morning song.” I threatened. “Good Morning, Good Morning little Nick – You don’t have time to sleep now you’ve got to get up really quick.”

    NO! I’m getting up. Don’t sing!” He pleaded.

 

(Nick and Rat-Bat Bruno -in the pink girlie Maryruth room he's staying in- they're blurry because NICK changed the focus on my camera for school)

 (poor pink - Nick - he's trying to claim the room, but it's difficult)
 

 The phone rang. “Saved by the bell.” I said answering the phone, “Hey Mike thanks for calling, I’m up.”

 (Even new little Tabitha who NEVER sleeps is tired)
 

     We were out the door in short order and on our way, as Henry and Nick finished another “Kung Fu” episode en route.

     “I can’t believe you guys are leaving me on my birthday,” Nick moaned.

     “I know, I can’t either,” I agreed.  “I had no idea when I booked the tickets for the Stanford competition that it was the same weekend.” I felt terrible we were leaving, but suspected he was going to want to spend most of the time with his friends anyway. He’d worked hard getting in his missing assignments and meeting his deadlines. I was proud of his recent efforts.

     “You could have come,” Henry said.

     “No, it’s finals I really couldn’t.” Nick added practically.

     We drove in silence all of us reluctant about our upcoming separation. Lisa was meeting us at the airport at 6:45AM with Quinn and my dad and we were exchanging passengers. She’d take Nick to school and I’d d fly out of Bellingham International with my entourage.

     After lots of hugs and “Happy Birthdays” and “Good-luck on your final” and “Don’t for get to turn in your Vis Comm. assignments” and “Do you have that paper you needed?” and “You’ve got your snack bag right? And “Have fun,” Nick got in Lisa’s van.

     “Good luck with Dad. He was ready at the door like a golden retriever waiting for a ball. Rushing me to leave an hour before we had to go. But I had to laugh, we left and HE was the one who forgot his reading glasses.” She said chuckling. “Have a great time. Good luck Henry!” Lisa called out the window as she drove off.

     After getting our seat assignments Henry, Quinn and I put our bags down right in front of Halibut Henry’s, a tiny store, in the small airport.  I looked around, “Where’s your grandfather?” I asked.

     “Uh, I have no idea,” Quinn said. “Maybe he went to get a coffee?”

     “No. He went through security already.” Henry said.

     “What? No. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t leave us.” I said, but knew the truth. When it comes to traveling he is a lone wolf always rushing. “Henry go look in the bathroom.”

     “OK, but I thought I saw him go through security.” We waited while Henry searched the airport for my father. Finally, I dialed his number.

     “Where are you?”

     “I went through security. I thought you were right behind me.”

     “I thought we were traveling together.” I said slamming the phone shut.

     It was probably best he’d gone ahead because we are a security check nightmare. Two bins for jackets, shoes in another, two computers out of their cases in separate bins. A bin for my purse, a bin my camera and a bin for my carry-on, then cell phones and Quinn’s shmancy belt in yet another bin. I think my father would have had a break down.

     We landed inauspiciously in Oakland and made our way to Air BART where we paid to get to the BART. My father maintaining a forty-step lead at all times.

     “What’s with Grandpa he’s always way ahead of us? He acts as if it’s a race” Quinn mused.

     “He likes to keep moving, when I was a kid we were always three hours early for every flight.”

     “He’s crazy” Henry marveled.

     “He likes to get where he’s going early and then read,” I explained.

 (Grandpa Horn pensive - because he's behind schedule?)
 

     From there we heaved our luggage on to the transport. Once at the BART station we figured out how to purchase a senior ticket, two kid tickets and a regular fare, once purchased, we had to make our way through the turn-style. This is simple for most people, but most people aren’t Quinn. She was scared. She put her ticket in and then didn’t know if she should grab it or which one to go through and for a moment I thought we might have to leave her on the other side of the plastic orange gates, but surprisingly she was able to amble through at the last moment.

     “I thought it was going to close on me!” She screamed.

     “Oh, Quinn.” Henry chided.

     We were making our way to first to San Francisco but eventually to Palo Alto. I didn’t want to rent a car because Tom would be driving up and it seemed silly to have two, so we were going to make our way on public transportation. If it killed us.

     As we took our seats on BART Henry turned “At least this time it doesn’t smell like urine.”

     “EWWWW Henry! Stop!” Quinn shooshed him.

 (Quinn, Henry on BART)

 (Ahhh the city - San Francisco)
 
      Twenty minutes later we climbed the steps of the Embarcadero exit, Henry quickly realized we were standing at the same street corner we had last year.

     “Mama that’s exactly where we were standing in the rain when the drunk guy was bugging us remember?”

    "Henry you look like a goat herder with that hat on," my father decided.

    "What?" Henry "Why?" 

    "Where's your goat?"

    "Grandpa! You're so weird," Quinn had made her decision.

     Ahh memories, I thought it was time for some new ones. “You know we don’t have to be at the hotel at any certain time. Is there anything you want to do?”

     “I want to ride a trolley car,” Quinn announced.

     “I want to eat,” Henry added. “Hey there’s a trolley car going to Fisherman’s Wharf, can we go?”

     And off we went, my father leading the way.

 (Grandpa Horn leading the way with Henry close behind)
 

 (Trolley car)

 (Pier 39)

 (Quinn get's her wish)
  (Missing Nick - on Fisherman's Wharf)
 
     Taking a page out of my mother’s handy-dandy-have-a-good-time-and-make-memories-philosophy, we decided to go for a nice white tablecloth lunch. Spotting Aliotos, we crammed ourselves into the elevator suitcases and all.

     Henry ordered grilled salmon, my father had a beer with his fish and chips and Quinn stated “I don’t eat fish.”

     “Oh yes you are young lady.” I insisted. “You are on Fisherman’s Wharf and you will eat something on the menu other than bread. Have some fish and chips. Just pretend it’s chicken nuggets.”

     “Alright, I’ll have the chicken nuggets.” Quinn acquiesced reluctantly, but good-naturedly. “Just don’t call them fish.”

     “I’m so proud of you,” the waiter laughed as she ordered. “You’re really stepping outside yourself.” He teased.

 (Henry, Quinn and me at Aliotos)

 (part of the view from Aliotos on Fisherman's Wharf)
 

     We enjoyed our lunch although the food wasn’t as good as it had once been, but the view was spectacular. The sky blue with puffy white clouds and boats bobbing in the distance, we talked about so many different things.

    "Where's your goat Henry?" Grandpa Horn barked as he made his way to the restroom.

     “Denise, I didn’t know Grandpa was so funny.” Quinn remarked.

     “I know right? I always thought he was uptight without much of a sense of humor, but he’s laughing and telling jokes,” Henry added.

     “I know, I’ve never really seen him laugh,” Quinn said.

     “Really? My father has always been funny. He’s the dad who’d dress up or build a float for the parade. He’s the big eight-year-old who never grew up. I think it’s that he can’t hear your high-pitched voices as well so he doesn’t really respond.”

     “I always thought he was serious until today,” Quinn said and Henry nodded.

 (Henry and Quinn with full tummies)
 

     As we stood at the Wharf waiting for the trolley, Quinn said she wanted to look inside a bakery nearby. So the two of us went in and browsed for a while. When we came back we found Henry wound up like a top.

     “YOU MISSED IT! Grandpa went to war! Full on war with the Jamaicans!” Henry blathered.

     “What are you talking about?” Quinn asked looking at Henry as if he’d lost his mind.

     “The Jamaicans over there were playing to a big crowd and Grandpa pulled out his horn and started a rivalry. They’d play and then he’d play and then he stole some of the crowd it was crazy,” Henry babbled proudly.

     Henry turned to Quinn, “Quinn, since I want to switch from the cornet to the oboe, next semester do you think my grandchildren will call me Grandpa Oboe?”

     Quinn paused a moment looking at Henry, “The way you dress, with that stained sweatshirt I think they’re going to call you Grandpa Hobo,” she said boarding the trolley.

     “The oboe? Are you kidding?” My father exclaimed when he heard. “You’ll sound like a *&%$#@% snake charmer. You won’t be able to play jazz. No one uses an oboe.”  My father snarled. Undaunted, Henry just rolled his eyes. This family is not for the faint of heart.

     “They had an oboe in the Paul Whiteman Band. I checked,” I said protecting my son.

     “Did they?” My father was silenced.

 (Grandpa fresh from the battle of the brass - Quinn and Henry - getting a little tired)
 

  Grandpa Horn was up and down on the trolley ride three times asking the conductor when we should get off and what connection to make to get to the train station. And once we were off we marched at a fast pace crossing streets on the diagonal, weaving through crowds of people all the while toting our luggage.

     Finally at the bus stop we waited with a huge crowd. Bus after bus came and went while we waited for the number 30. Eventually, it arrived and we crammed into the center holding on to straps while trying to protect our belongings.

     “Mom zip your purse and tuck it under your arm, this isn't Bellingham,” Henry warned me. I was touched. He remembered all my warnings about theft and crime and was now protecting me.

     The crowd thinned out stop by stop and yet we continued to ride until the end of the line. When it was our turn we gathered together adjusting our straps and stacking our luggage ready for the next leg of our journey.

     “How far to the train station?” Quinn asked innocently.

     “Uh Quinn, it’s that big building in front of you that says TRAIN STATION,” Henry said.

     “If she had a brain she’d be dangerous,” my father added and Quinn giggled so hard she almost fell down in the street.

     Once again, we stood trying to figure out how to get a senior ticket to travel three zones, two kids’ tickets and a regular fare. Each time we did it was completely different yet easy once you knew what you were doing.

     “What time is it?” Henry asked.

    “3:05PM” My father answered.

     “The train leaves at 3:06 let’s go!” Henry called as he and Quinn took off.

     “We’ll never make it,” Grandpa Horn warned, “It’s too late.”

     “We’ll make it, we’ll make it! C’mon Grandpa run!” Quinn yelled over her shoulder. Her hair and legs flying in all directions, “Now he wants to take his time!”

 (Henry and Quinn race to the train - Henry figures if he gets on - we'll all get on)
 

    We boarded the train out of breath. The kids victorious wanted to ride on the upper deck and so we sat watching the scenery go by. I fell asleep as did everyone else. We were losing steam. An hour later and three exits before our stop, my father started getting his stuff all packed up and strapped on. “We’d better start downstairs we only have a couple stops until San Antonio,” he warned. “It’s going to take a while to get down the stairs with all of our stuff. C'mon Henry don't forget your goat."

    "Grandpa why does this hat make you think of goats?" Henry asked again laughing.

     “He’s doing. It again.” Quinn said. “He’s driving me nuts. It’s maybe 50 steps altogether.”

     “Welcome to my childhood.” I said.

     “No wonder you’re always on time. You took part of it, and my mother completely rebelled. This must be why she’s always running late.” I laughed as Henry and Quinn psycho-analyzed us, which is fine as long as I come out the good one.

     “Let’s hang back just to drive him a little nuts,” Quinn said insidiously.

     “Fun and games with Grandpa. The only problem is, I don’t think he’ll care,” Henry said. “He’ll just leave us behind,” Henry laughed.

     When we’d all gotten off the train and it had snaked away. We stood there in silence. It was quiet and we were in the middle of nowhere. There were no shops just apartments. Which way next was a complete mystery. We just stood there for a couple of minutes thinking about our predicament.

     My father wanted to head right, so of course Quinn said left. We went left and my father dragged behind. We ended up at a little cybercafé where we got an espresso and directions to our hotel about another mile away. 

 (The Crossroads Cafe)

 (Grandpa Horn looking for directions)
 

    My father charged out the door and down the street as it began to rain. “So much for sunny California,” Quinn moaned.

     “Hush, just keep walking,” I encouraged. “We’ll be there soon.”

     “Not soon enough, I just want to get in the heated pool,” Henry said dreamily.

 (Quinn now wishing she'd chosen to go to the Las Vegas gymnastics meet instead)
 

     As we walked we approached a hardware store. “Stay here. Watch my stuff. I’m going to go in and see if we’re heading in the right direction,” Grandpa Horn announced.

    When he emerged he announced there was a faster way but we had to double back the way we came. The rain was getting harder so in true Washingtonian fashion, we put our hoods up and went on.

    “Grandpa, there’s a lady from the hardware store whistling for you! Stop Grandpa!” Henry called from the back of the line.

    We all came to an abrupt halt as my father went over to talk to her. “Would you like a ride?” She asked pleasantly.

    “Sure, we’d love one,” Grandpa Horn answered all smiles. Quinn shot me a look as if to say ‘are we really going to hitchhike’? I know she was wondering what her parents would think of this. I too was wondering what I thought of this. I raised my eyebrows and shrugged my shoulders unsure. I weighed the options, I could walk a mile or so in the rain with my father and two kids or take a ride from a slightly overweight woman who seemed smitten with my father. We took the ride.

 (Grandpa Horn loads the luggage)
 

    “Grandpa’s a chick magnet,” Henry said quietly to Quinn as we got into the back of the truck who nodded in agreement.

 

 

 

 

January 1st The Game of Life

 (Bruno trying to get a Monopoly- stretching out - from Luther's bed to his new one - )
 

    New Year’s Eve is a time for reflection. What got accomplished and what didn’t. I try to accentuate the positive, but after taking a tally for the year I have to say 2009 was not my year. Sure there were successes we built a chicken coop, the pond was filled with water again and we got a snuggly bovine not to mention that gentle equine rapscallion, but in the end – I’m more than ready to move on. 2010 for me is a hope for a better tomorrow.  A hope for a pig or two, the belief that I’ll be the hero of the family and make enough money so Tom can move here full time.

    To this end, I spent much of the day allowing my superior Virgo instincts to take control, stuffing my overly emotional Pisces moon to the side. I began by making my new daily schedule. The key to success is organization. I know this deep in my heart, just as I know butter is the secret to happiness.

    Tom, Mike and I sat around in the kitchen in our pajamas with big mugs a coffee as I held court. I began with goals for the first quarter. Goals for Henry’s Honey, goals for weight loss, goals for Henry, goals for Nick, goals for the house, goals for the farm, goals for Irish and goals for Tom. After all a Virgo girl knows everyone in our life needs us to take control and help each of them out a little bit, gently guiding each of them in the right direction. It was just as I was about done that I heard Mike slinking out of the room trying to escape. I have ears like a deer – ask any fifth grader whoever tried to tell a secret in the back of my classroom. “Not so fast Michael. I hear you skulking away,” I hollered into the hallway.

    “What?” He laughed. “I thought it best I exit about this time. It seems it’s about my turn.”

    “I’ll leave you alone for now,” I promised like a cat letting the mouse go – for a time.

    For dinner Tom thoughtfully cooked a delicious chicken potpie from my Weight Watcher’s Comfort Classics Cookbook. We rented The Sting, Julie & Julia and Four Christmas’s then built a fire and settled in for a comfy evening. We got a late start on the New Year by about twenty-five minutes. Snap, we were already behind schedule.

 (black-eyed peas for prosperity in the New Year)
 

    The next morning, I confirmed our plans with my sister “We’re making black eyed peas…”

    “We were planning to come over around noon if that’s ok.”

    “That’s great, but I feel badly. We rented an auger this weekend so we could get four days for the price of one and put up the arena fence down by the barn. I just don’t think we can stop working until later in the day.”

    “We’ll wear our work clothes then. Sounds fun. I’ve never used an auger. I’ll tell Mike and Tom and we’ll be there as soon as possible.”

    “Really?,” she said a little surprised.

    "You bet." I turned to Tom after hanging up. “The Donaldson’s need to put up some fence so we’re gong to help them. She thought we be bummed.” He laughed.

    “Do they know us?” He smirked.

    “I know right?” Henry interjected.

    “You mean we have to work?” Nick moaned, “That’s not my job.”

    “Finally, something really fun to do over there.” I chirped as I went to throw on my boots. I love a project.

 (playing the parts of Ma & Pa Kettle- a tired, rained on dirty pair of love birds - Chris & Lisa - )

  (Cody and Tom meet - while Phoebe cleans the corral)
 

 (Phoebe works hard)

 (Mike & Chris use the auger to get the posts in)

    We got there and got to work in short order. Quinn made dinner – chicken potpie from the Weight Watcher’s Comfort Classics Cookbook.

    “We just had that last night,” I laughed.

    “It’s OK, I could eat it for every meal,” Mike encouraged her.

    “Me too!” Henry agreed wholeheartedly.

    “I really like it, it has a good taste. The fennel really gives it a fuller richer flavor,” Tom concurred.

    I supervised the preparation while doing some other chores. Quinn chopped onion, sautéed garlic, baked and shredded chicken, measured broth, melted butter, combined ingredients and learned what a saucepan is.

    “I am never making a dinner that takes this long again,” she whined until it was served to a bunch of very hungry fence builders who loved it beyond measure.

    “Mom? Maybe I could make this again soon since you were looking to pay me for doing some of the cooking.”

    “Really? I thought you,” I started as Quinn jabbed me sharply in the ribs.

    Quinn, the quirky accident prone girl who thought she had a sixth toe one morning, because she counted wrong and was immediately concerned that she might have to pay a higher price for pedicures seems to have turned into a fairly multi-talented teen. She's determined to save enough money for a car when she's sixteen and so she' babysits and has a projected amount she needs to save a month for the next three years. So to add to her income she is teaching herself how to cut hair. She cooked dinner and then offered to cut Tom’s hair. She’s b has been practicing on Chris and needed some different hair.

 (Quinn is teaching herself)

 (a lesson from the book - Chapter Seven "How to cut short layers into the hair")
 

    “She gave me side bangs,” Phoebe said as she showed off her new do.

    “Well, your bangs aren’t at all even,” I pointed out critically. I hated to do it, but if I was going to consider having my hair trimmed I might want to wait until she’s had some more practice.

    “That’s not my fault. She’s just annoying she keeps sweeping that part over. She didn’t want me to cut it,” Quinn corrected as she leaned forward and fixed Phoebe’s hair.

 (Phoebe chatting and laughing about her side bangs and her sister)
 

    Tom took the risk as Quinn wrapped the towel around him. “Oh my, the drape doesn’t reach entirely around your shoulders, they’re so broad,” Quinn cooed.

    “She’s got the talk down. She’ll some make good tips.” Tom offered.

 (Quinn is ready to cut tom's hair)

 (Quinn hard at work on Tom's hair - he looks a little nervous)
 

    “Hmm. Let’s see do you think boys are going to pay five dollars to let Quinn cut their hair? Yeah, I’m going to say they’re going to line-up,” Mike concurred.

    “Your next Mike,” I laughed.

    “ I'm game”.

    “Considering it’s our Quinnie, I think she should call it Running With Scissors,” Lisa smirked.

    “That’s a great name, Running With Scissors.” Tom said enthusiastically. “Running With Scissors that’s it absolutely.”

After the men were sheared, we played the board game, Ticket to Ride, endlessly and about thirty-five rounds of Bingo.

 (endless hours of family fun)
 

 (Henry calls Bingo)
 

    “I hope you’ll all be here for Swingin’ Singles Night on Saturday – that’s B -4 as in before you get married,” Henry called in his velvety announcer voice.

    Tom won the lion’s share with his lucky card. Quinn was second then the Pheeb. Everyone played one card, but me. I had five. I figured I'd improve my odds.

 (Tom and his Bingo card)

 (Phoebe hates that Tom doesn't put a chip on the FREE section of the Bingo card)
 

    “Denise, you played a lot more than the rest of us. You must feel like five times the loser. Hey, great start to the New Year by the way,” Chris chortled snickering at his own joke in an asthmatic sort of way. "Hey you guys coming back tomorrow?

 (some of my cards -)
 

November 29th Forever In Our Hearts

 (Richard and Franklin - real Poofftas)
 

Thanksgiving took on a myriad of permutations this year. At first, Awesomez thought she might come up to join Nick, and Mike and Donna had considered joining us. Of course we expected Mike and then there was rumor The Gibb’s – Diane, John, Lauren and Jordan might attend in addition to all of us – Chris, Lisa, Quinn, Annie, Henry and me. We’d also invited Kim and Vivian to join us, but Kim wasn’t feeling particularly well so they planned to stay home. Nevertheless we were going to need additional tables and a couple of turkeys. Franklin and Richard seemed unaware of the potential hazards in front of them.

 (Silence wisely tucked in the back of the boys)

The best laid plans and all of that. Grandpa Awesomez wanted all the Gomez clan with him at his house in Palm Springs so that took out Nick and Lisa. Mike and Donna suddenly were hosting Mike’s daughter and their three grandchildren. Just days before Thanksgiving, we tragically lost dear quirky “Kim” aka Quentin  – Chris’ uncle, Annie’s brother to an aggressive form of Prostate Cancer.He had been valiantly been battling it for more than a year. His loss left us all grieving and a bit quieter in spirit. Annie went to be with Kim’s wife, Vivian for Thanksgiving in Stanwood. The gregarious Gibb clan did drive up to Lisa's from Eugene for the weekend and Mike drove up from Tacoma with his faithful feline, Monica.

 (Chris & Mike enjoy a glass)

 (Henry and Lauren play a game)

(Quinn quietly on the left with Henry and Lauren)

 (Henry and Lauren goof)
 

 (Diane thickens the gravy)

 (Lisa looking ready for the holiday in her chic scarf - I gave her)

 

 (best friends Jordan and Phoebe tilt a glass)

(Quinn not at all thrilled with my camera)

Brutally aware most Americans consume over 5000 calories in this one meal, I tried to be restrained after all I have to weigh-in eventually. I happily chose the two point glasses of wine over the nine point pumpkin pie. We laughed and chatted about how the Gibb’s were adjusting to Eugene, soccer, schools and Mike ranted about how to revamp the entire educational system, as we know it.

 (yummy food cooking in the oven)
 

 (Mike rants)

 (John and Chris listen to Mike rant educational policies and condemn social promotion)
 

 (and don't use Montessori in the same sentence as Mike's ideas - them's fightin' words_
 

 (Diane's pies and Lisa's tarts)

(Diane prefers Cool Whip™ but she's from the South) 
 

While the pies were being prepped with whipped cream, Diane told of her idyllic new neighborhood and how a group of families share dinner twice a week. Which means Diane eats Tuesdays and Wednesdays at one of her neighbors and cooks for twenty once every two weeks. In fact, their new neighborhood is so neighborly that their neighbors hung their Christmas lights while they were gone.

“I felt terrible, they sent their teenage son over and he was going to do it for free, but it’s not like John is an invalid,” Diane said.

“Oh my gosh! Your neighbors put up your lights? I could see if you were a woman alone,” Lisa was impressed.

As I listened, I turned and whispered to Phoebe who was sitting next to me. “It’s funny, they both assume a man is going to do it. No one but me has ever put up my Christmas lights. Or taken them down. It’s not that hard, I guess it’s tradition.”

            Phoebe smiled wide and nodded to me. She and I had a do-it-yourself kinship. This was the 3-year-old who poured cement with me. The eight-year-old who planted the corn field, the nine-year-old who screwed the fence together. One day, we’d put up her Christmas lights together.

            “Are you sure this place isn’t the next Stepford?” Chris cajoled.

            “It’s OK if it is,” John laughed.

The next day brought winter preparations. Mike and I tried again to get the generator going. I called a repairman who explained my financial options. “If you can get it to me, it would save you a lot of money.”

“I can’t. I just can’t lift it into a truck bed, even with a ramp. I’m simply not strong enough and I just don’t have enough help.” I explained a bit downtrodden.

Mike and I moved on to other matters like insulating the pump house.

“I’d like to say I’m surprised at what a poor job they did on this, but honestly everything they did is just like this.” Mike thundered. We used an entire roll of insulation, changed the light bulb, turned up the heat and screwed the door shut hopping for the best.

Next we began the traditional hanging of the Christmas lights. I wanted to get them up before Awesomez brought Nick back on Monday. So Mike unraveled and held the ladder, I strung and Silence, my faithful turk-a-lurk, supervised us closely. The work I’d put into screwing in hooks along the eaves last year paid off and the lights went up lickety-split. The ones that completely lit anyway. It seems there is some insidious plot devised by the Christmas light industry. They have perfected a solution to the revolutionary parallel circuit. Somehow they have managed to get a foot or two span of lights in the middle of a string to simply go out making it mandatory to purchase another set of lights to replace it. This sent Mike and me to Lowes for more lights. Twice. Thankfully they were on sale.

 (Mike works diligently)

 (Christina actually turned into a storybook goat and started chomping lights)

 (Mike and Christina)
   

 

 (Max returns to the farm)

 (Yours truly- getting the lights up)

 (Silence working hard)

 (Seriously, does anyone think they're going to have a pet turkey? Silence is so curious and interested in everything - a lot like Lloyd)

 (Silence lets me know who's boss)

 (Silence is one big ass bird)

 (Henry and I keep working)

 

 (Luther and Bruno assist)
 

(Emmett escapes)
 

All and all we did pretty well, but more afraid of heights then ever I had a hard time with the upper peaks. At one point Amy tied an extension cord around my waist and anchored me from the attic window while I dangled over the edge. My heart beating so hard I could feel it all over my body. Henry couldn’t watch so he went downstairs and turned on mindless TV. Some help he was.

That night, Mike and I sat up drinking tea and making lists of things we could accomplish in the morning. Mike had an appointment to take Monica to the cat clinic to see Lisa. She’d been acting a little funny lately and he’d been concerned. Lisa told him she could squeeze him around nine, so that was the first thing on the agenda. When he got back we’d continue with our chores, as I was eager to get as much done with my faithful assistant as possible. The adult company was invigorating.

 At about midnight we head upstairs. Mike went to Nick’s room – the room formerly known as “Maryruth’s room” and I went in my bathroom and flipped on the portable heater before changing into my flannels. I thought I heard knocking at my door, but wasn’t sure over the hum of the heater.

“I think she’s dying!” I heard Mike frantically yelling in the hall.

“What?” I screamed as I ran toward the door. When I opened it I could see Mike in his boxers and undershirt hurrying toward his room and Henry almost flying up the stairs. By the time I joined them I saw Henry had had the presence of mind to rush to the kitchen and grab a turkey baster from the kitchen drawer and shoved it down Monica’s throat and was now pumping air into her body. She responded, convulsing with each breath. I ran to my room got my makeup mirror and dialed my sister. Accustomed to emergencies she woke up quickly and started advising us. We held the mirror in front of Monica to see if she had any breath on her own. She did not. Henry heroically resumed emergency ventilation, but sadly to no avail. Monica passed away.

“Henry, I can’t believe how amazing you were. You were calm and really performed in a crisis.” I said completely impressed.

“Really. Henry, I can’t thank you enough for what you did. If anything was going to help that was. Lisa said it was probably a blood clot.” Mike relayed.

“But it didn’t save her.” Henry said quietly.

“But it made me feel as though we did everything we could.” Mike said putting a hand on Henry’s shoulder. Tearfully, Mike picked up his corpulent companion he tenderly called “Monica Morning Cat” and gently placed her in her blue cat carrier.

The next day, Henry dug a grave for Monica while Mike and I worked on the lights. Amy came home from Texas with Max and Andrew to find one of her glidies (sugar gliders) had died. One of the twins. Henry and I hadn’t known because they’d still been in their pouch when we fed them.  They don’t get up until about 9:00 PM. So we said goodbye to two friends and had two burials in our growing pet cemetery. Amy came by afterward explaining the horror of the death. It seems gliders can become cannibalistic and had skinned the poor thing. Amy was heavy-hearted having lost her third pet since living here.

 (Henry doesn't want Mike to have to dig Monica's grave)

 

 (Monica the cat was buried with her favorite towel - Mike got Monica about 8 years ago through my sister - her owner had died and she needed a home)

 

Hard work being the best medicine we all cleaned the barn thankful to sweep our troubles away laughing about the good times and funny stories.

 

September 11th All My Children

    

(Franklin, Richard and Silence- say good morning)

All I wanted to do was sleep after I took the boys to school. I figured I’d earned a little rest, the barn could wait, the honey business could wait, the laundry could definitely wait, but Lisa called. Phoebe was sick again and Lisa was working at the Cat Clinic. “I know you’ve been crazy busy, but could you do some of your work here?” She asked. She needed me and how could I turn down the Pheeb?

    “Sure. No problem.” I said, so Luther, Vivian and Bruno who’d already been promised a ride in the car came along. On the way, Amy called. "I have bad news."

    "What? Are you OK?"

    "I'm OK, but the front gate isn't. I thought my car was in neutral, but apparently it wasn't and I smashed through the gate. Do you hate me?

    "Huh, well at least your ok. Is it standing?"

    "It's standing, I wired it up with Andrew."

    "That's good, at least the animals won't go into the road." I said. Thinking one step forward, two steps back.

"I'l pay for it to be fixed." 

    "That's sweet, but I just don't know who we could get to come all they way out to do it. But we can think about that tomorrow. At least your ok and it's standing."

    "So much for the quiet tenant who keeps to herself. First the deer and the truck in the ditch and now this," she laughed nervously. I thought back to turning twenty and remembered plenty of kooky mishaps, none of them Amy would make, she's too mature. 

 (oops)

 (Bruno and Charlie play,play,play)

    By the time I got to Lisa's I needed another strong pot of coffee.Phoebe was no problem, she never is. She was riveted to Erica Kane and drank all the apple juice I gave her. “How’s school?”  I asked trying to avoid paying my bills.

    “I don’t know, I have barely even been to the fourth grade yet I’m sick all the time. My tonsils are pretty yucky,” she said ruefully. “How’s Nick doing?”

    “He’s having a hard time, lonely for his friends in Mammoth. He doesn’t really talk to anyone except some kid in World Lit that sits next to him.”

    “That’s too bad,” she said sleepily as she and Luther settled in for yet another nap. Since she didn’t need me, I started looking into honey label options for Henry’s Sweet Ass Honey™ and ordered sample jars for Tom to work with.

 (Phoebe & Luther resting)

    Lisa came home and we discussed her barn plans, horses and how much my wood shavings cost for my winter barn bedding. We were deep into counting our Weight Watcher points when I got a text from Nick. We don’t actually speak on the phone I just get messages. “Hi. Can I spend the night at my friend’s house?”

    “You have a friend? Who?” Was my first response, after that, I went from a quick NO to a definite maybe. I talked to Lisa about my fears and the disaster Henry went through last year staying at the crack-house-with-that-kid-who-had-the-brother-who-beat-his-mother. “Yet I don’t want to say no. I mean he was invited somewhere. He’s got a friend. There might be other kids. I don’t want to blow it for him. What should I do? After all Awesomez, was trusting me and I wasn’t about to drop the ball.”

    “I know I’ll call Diane. She still has connections and we can probably do a little checking.” She picked up the phone and sprang into Nancy Drew action tapping into the Bellingham parental equivalent of the FBI. “The kid doesn’t have any negative stuff attached to his name as far as I can tell,” she summarized after her third source reported in. After I spoke to both the kid and his father asking a myriad of questions, I let him go. As happy as I was for Nick, I was worried as I drove to pick-up Henry that he would feel ditched. He and Nick had had plans all week to go to Open Gym after Henry’s workout. So when Quinn strode up to the car I asked her if she wanted to spend the night. She and Henry always have a good time together. “Sure I want to see Gnatalie anyway, besides Phoebe’s sick.”

    We’d just hung-up from delivering the news of Nick’s social coup to Awesomez when the phone rang. I was winding my way along the rocky coast and wasn’t about to pick up the call, which isn’t a problem with a teenage girl in the car.

    “It’s Zach, the kid whose house Nick is at. He says Nick can’t spend the night and you’ve got to pick him up.”

    “What?”

    “He says he ‘forgot’ about some previous plans and Nick has to go home.” Quinn said skeptically.

    “Oh, no. I hope nothing happened.”

    “I feel bad for Nick. I hope he’s OK, that’s really terrible. That kid’s a jerk.” Quinn said in a moment of compassion. Surprising. She and Nick seem to have a “Moonlighting”, Bruce Willis/Cybil Shepherd-type relationship bantering all the time, but without him here she felt his pain.

    “Poor Nick, that’s cheap that’s gotta hurt,” Henry moaned.

    “Call your mom, she’s going to have to pick him up. I’m way too far away.”

    Not too long later, Lisa, Phoebe and Nick showed up at the gym. “Hey, I brought our teenager. Who knew we’d be sharing a kid,” she said with a laugh.

    “Is he ok?” I asked her after Nick went to change his clothes for Open Gym.

    “Yeah Nick confirmed that Zach’s previous plan thing was legit, he heard the girl call Zach and remind him about her birthday party.

    “That made us feel a lot better,” Phoebe chimed in.

    “Awesomez called. She feels terrible you had to go so out of your way,” I told her.

    “I don’t know why she’s worried. We’re not new to kids, we realized we weren’t getting a hamster.”

 (Nick tumbles)

 (Quinn straddle jumps)

 (Nick in action)

 (Nick)

 (Quinn, Nick and Henry on a tear)

(Amy's beautiful and thoughtful "please forgive me" flowers)

September 3rd I Can Cry If I Want To

(adorable hippo sculptures from Kenya via Paris from G. Horn aka - my dad)

and - annual - My Happy Birthday from Grandpa Horn

    It sounded like I left the dishwasher on the rinse cycle all night long. The Pacific Northwest was righting itself, making up for the endless hot summer days. With the relentless downpour Awesomez and I thought my day in Seattle at the Woodland Park Zoo would have to wait, but I called my sister and she reported it was to be a beautiful sunny day in the seventies.

    It was still early when we dragged Quinn, Henry and Nick out of bed and shoved some cereal in front of them. Awesomez volunteered to help me and together I went out to the chicken coop to take care of Michael. I held him and pet him trying to comfort him while Lisa helped me give him sips of water. She’s turning out to be a pretty good farm hand. She wrangles ducks, cares for injured chickens, herds goats and cleans stalls. Who would have thought Miss Immaculate would be OK with  goose poop on her tennis shoes?

    “Are you OK to leave him?” Awesomez asked quietly while I held him nestled in my arms. I could tell by the way she kept averting her eyes that she could barely look at him. His wounds were, deep and vicious. We wondered if what we saw was part of his brain and after close examination we weren't sure if he had one eye or not.

     “I am, only because I know Amy will be here and she said she’d call me every once in awhile to let me know how he’s doing.”

    By the time we got our acts together and met Lisa and Phoebe in Burlington it was already ten o’clock. A lot later than we planned, but we weren’t on a set itinerary for a change. When we pulled up to the appointed meeting place, Phoebe greeted me with the requisite birthday latte and a snuggle. I was showered with presents and oddly it turned out to be a two birdhouse birthday. Henry made me one and so did Quinn, Coincidence? Phoebe made me a very unusual and lovely bowl. 

(Phoebe starting the day out right)

(Phoebe made my beautiful birthday gift)

(surprised at receiving a second adorable bird house)

    Just as we got off the freeway I remembered “Lis- didn’t you want to go to some place down in Seattle? A burger place?”

    “Yeah, yeah, The Red Mill, it’s owned by this lady it’s supposed to have the best burgers ever.” Awesomez recounted.

    “Awesomez wasn’t that the place you said was on that show?” Henry asked.

    “Yeah, ‘Man Vs. Food’ “ Awesomez said.

    “Hey, The Red Mill! is right there! It’s right there!” Henry screamed, “We’re passing it!”

    “I can’t believe it. That’s it! What are the chances?” Awesomez said as we drove past on our way to the zoo.

     “I thought it would be at the other end of Seattle,” I said, “but I guess we know where we’re eating dinner.”

(Henry and Phoebe mosey along)

    We had decided to go to the zoo because we usually try and have a family outing on my birthday. In the past my birthday was usually at Sea World because September is a very hot and dry time in Southern California. We would never have considered the Los Angeles Zoo in the summer. And to tell you the truth, zoos can be depressing. Many of them have cages that are too small, I much prefer wild animal parks, but I wanted to go somewhere and this was both affordable and within a reasonable distance. I entered with a bit of skepticism. I’d heard a great deal of talk about the penguin exhibit and although fun, it was nothing compared to Sea World’s Penguin Encounter in San Diego. I felt like one of those people who move from New York and never think their new home's bagels are good enough or they are always asking why there aren’t any good bialys.

(Nick playing with a penguin)

(Penguin Scat)

    We went on to the gorillas and all of sudden The Woodland Park Zoo became my favorite place. The gorillas were awake. Something I wasn’t used to. And they were eating, holding hands and talking to each other. Interacting? They were close enough to view without straining over a rock. They’re behaviors were phenomenal and so were those of the lions, tigers and sloth bears. Orangutan playing peek-a-boo, baby pudu nursing, eagles ripping prey apart, snow leopard cubs pouncing, tapirs swimming and squeaking their shrill cries. It was unlike any other zoo visit I've had.

(gorilla eating an apple)

(Tiger got your tongue?)

(Sloth bear)

(After playing peek-a-boo he made his bead and took a nap)

(Endowed Wild Dog)

(Eagle eating prey)

(baby gorilla)

     Every time I turned around I saw an endangered animal enjoying the day as well as the common teenager, Nick sitting down. Moping - "Homo Sapiens var. Adolecence Mopious" It seems his knee might need surgery, so instead of dragging a despondent teenager all over the zoo, I did what my mother would have done. I got him a wheelchair and put an end to the complaining. Phoebe, Quinn and Henry were stunned. “My feet hurt!” Quinn exclaimed.

     “You don’t need surgery,” her mother pointed out.

     “Whatever,” Quinn quipped.

At 2:30 we were in line to feed the giraffe.  “It’s an extra $5.00? I don’t have enough cash I just have my debit card.” I said knowing I could borrow from my sister or Awesomez; it was my birthday after all.

     “I got it.”

     “What?” I asked.

     “I got money to pay for your giraffe feeding,” Henry said as he pulled a ten-dollar bill out of his wallet.

    “Henry! You don’t have to pay for me, I can borrow from one of the Lisas.”

    “I want to pay for you. This is a birthday gift I know you’ll love and I have the money, “ he said putting his hand in mine and kissing me on the cheek. “Let me do this for you,” he pleaded.

    “Thank you, this is a wonderful birthday gift and I love the bird house too. I can’t believe you just used your father’s tools and did it. I’m really proud of you.” 

    "Really? I did all the measuring and everything. I used Dad's hand saw and Dewalt™. Phoebe helped me. I had Quinn do the writing, because after all that work, I didn't want to crap it up."

(Henry's handmade birdhouse)

(Home Tweet Home)

(Henry tempts our new friend)

(Me, the birthday girl)

(Henry, Awesomez, Giraffe)

     Awesomez was just going to watch from a distance and not actually feed the giraffe, but I pulled the birthday card and the boo-boo lip and she caved. We all filed in and began feeding our leaves when the phone rang. I wouldn’t have taken it, but I saw that it was Amy and I was worried about Michael.”

     “He’s fine.”

     “He’s dead?”

     “No. He’s fine. He’s alive! He’s alive and drinking a lot of water, he’s walking around and I’m holding and talking to him like you asked.”

    “Great. I was worried.” I whispered “I’ve gotta go we’re feeding the giraffes.” I hung up and looked over to see Awesomez giggling with Phoebe over the giraffe’s tongue. I was happy. This is a great birthday I thought as I saw Phoebe wheel Nick out of the giraffe enclosure.

(Can you really beat this much fun? - yes they are in fact growling)

    After an exciting day seeing things I’ve never seen at a zoo we topped off the outing with cheap, delicious burgers. The place was packed with a line out the door that never seemed to get shorter. It's a little hole in the wall really, but it seems everyone in Seattle knows about it. I couldn't believe the burgers were only three dollars for a cheese burger and about five for the  Green Chili burger I split with my sister to try and stay within the bounds of reason when it came to Weight Watcher points. The the kids had shakes and malts all around while Awesomez through caution to the wind and ordered the peppery onion rings.

    We found a table outside and sat in the waning sunshine enjoying the sounds of the city when The phone rang again and for the fourth time today it was Amy dutifully calling with Michael’s progress. “Hello?”

(Man VS. Food - recommendation - a new family tradition)

   

    “He’s good”

     “He’s dead?”

     “He’s good. I didn’t say 'he's fine' this time, because you kept thinking I said dead and you still thought I said dead.”

     “I guess I’m scared, thanks for taking care of him," I said "I never could have had this birthday without you watching him. I really appreciate it."  I thought of Amy sitting there holding Michael for me. I was touched at how much a part of our lives she's become in such a short time. How did I get so lucky to get a whacko like her who would sit in my chicken coop talking to my injured chicken for me so I could go to the zoo on my birthday. Her kindness brought tears to my eyes.

August 7th Getting To Know You

(Edward looks out on the yard)

  I didn’t know what to expect having a horse after all these years and with all these other animals. He’s pretty and sweet, but I didn’t know if he would be nervous, and spook or kick or what. I didn’t know how much of a personality he would really have next to my moody debutante of a donkey.

    I started by isolating him. I wanted him to get used to the place but allow him to hold court, meeting and greeting everybody. So I kept him in the paddock behind the barn. He could see over the fence and would whinny every so often at the passersby. The sheep and goats and geese could see him and could decide whether to go up to him or not.

    Miracle was not at all eager to make friends with the big fella. Suddenly she looked small and seemed to feel scruffy next to the towering, shiny Thoroughbred. She’d amble over, head held high but at the last moment stop and peer at him from behind a tree. Cautiously she’d sidle up near the fence where he was standing, bray, and kick her heels and race off, emphasizing his confinement as she demonstrated her freedom.

    The sheep came over one by one sniffing him and stomping their feet as they are prone to do. Perhaps it was no accident, the girls, Mildred and Sheryl usually the most shy, were the first to give him a good sniff followed eventually by the boys. The goats were non-plussed, either he had a treat for them in which case he was very interesting or he did not. He did not. The geese with their sudden and unexplainable bursts of honking and flapping were a curiosity to him at first, but he quickly saw they were harmless and didn’t even twirl an ear when they’d carry on. Apparently he’d grown up with a duck.

    His feet were cracked and dished out in front of him like he was wearing elf shoes. They looked painful and made me wince every time I looked at them.  I started calling farriers in the area and was happy to find one guy readily available. 

(Sir Edward's foot -dished and cracked)

    The morning the farrier came Miracle got more than a little antsy. Her eyes were full of fear. She was appalled I was suggesting she not only wear a halter, but couldn’t believe she was to stand still to be manhandled by some stranger in chaps. She did not feel this fitting a donkey of her caliber and she did not cooperate. In fact, she came just this side of throwing a donkey tantrum. She got a lesson in manners from the farrier, whom she quickly respected and consequently adored.

(Miracle plays hard to get)

(Miracle freaks out!)

(Dave Mehl - the farrier and our girl)

(Miracle makes friends with Dave)

     Over the last couple of years, the two of us have played the “Farrier Game” many times, a derivative of “Veterinarian Game" . It’s a simple game of trust. I put my hand down her leg and practice picking up her tootsies then we snuggle. Everyone’s happy. She loves hugs almost as much as I dislike hugging, but there is something irresistible about her donkieness. I watched proudly holding her lead rope, cooing to her, as Dave commended me on her behavior. She stood calmly and let him give her a pedicure. Afterward I rewarded her with a handful of packer pellets for a job well done.  She’d faced her fear, and was truly a noble steed.

(Miracle gets a pedicure)

    Next, it was Sir Edward’s turn. He’d obviously had his feet done many times, albeit a long time ago from the look of his feet.  Not as comfortable with him and a little leery he might be painful in his feet, I stood holding his lead hoping all was going to go smoothly. The farrier said, “I’m going to take them down as far as I dare”. I nodded in agreement; getting him sound was the first order of business. “He might be a little sore for the next few days, so I’d continue to keep him confined”. Again, I nodded and looked up.

(Edward gets the treatment from Dave)

I could see one eye and one ear, she was peeking from behind the barn watching him. Later in the afternoon she cozied up to the fence and did what equine do when they accept each other. They traded breath. Nose to nose, they stood inhaling each other. 

    It turns out Edward’s a bit of a kook. He likes to cram himself between the barn and the chicken coup and watch Poultry-TV. He stands for hours watching the chicks and turkeys flap around, pecking and strutting. He’s social too, stuffing himself through the tiny door Miracle can barely use, just to get inside with the rest of the troop. He’s also a bit of trouble. He stole hay from the goats and shared it with Miracle. He tears my pickets off my flower garden fence, picks trash out of garbage cans, rips bags apart and he even trounced my vegetable garden fence letting all the animals out into the pasture.The thing is, girls like bad boys. In fact, that night she decided not to go in the barn and spent the summer night in the little valley under the apple trees. With him.

(Mr. Ed - watches the chickens & turkeys)

(the fascinating fowl)

(Bucket looks back)

(Bucket is apparently a boy)

(it seems we did get at least one turkey hen)

(Edward makes himself at home)

(Edward gets comfortable)

(Henry hugs Edward)

(Edward and his new buddies)

(Quinn has fallen in love)

(Eddie Haskel is that you?)

(Edward is a bit destructive - perhaps he needs a toy)

(Edward gets paid a housecall by the same doctor who examined Apache- Dr. Amber Itle from Kulshan Veterinary Hospital in Lynden -she did find a heart murmer on the left side)

(Edward it seems doesn't need his teeth floated just yet - and he does have his racing tatoo)

 (Edward gets his privates looked at and cleaned with - Excalibur - sheath cleaner)

(Miracle's feet are lifting off the ground to kick Abe, who has mistakenly gotten too close to Sir Edward during his exam)

(Miracle is concerned and curious)

(Miracle tends to a sedated Edward)

(Miracle leans in to comfort Edward)

Now she goes wherever he goes and he goes where ever she goes. And when the vet came out and had to work on Edward, Miracle was there breathing in his nose calming him down. They look like the farm girl and the city boy, an equine Romeo and Juliet.

(Sir Edward (20) and Miracle (5) - a May/December romance? Or just friends?)

August 5th Walk Don't Run

(a visual I'm glad I didn't see)

Imagine being at the lion exhibit at the zoo and suddenly the glass breaks. Are you scared?  Or is it just another day at the office facing an apex predator? Now you and two children have to make it three-quarters of a mile to your car. Are you in a panic? When you begin to move and you hear the roar of the lion from the bushes a few yards away  does your heart skip a beat? You know he or she is stalking you as you walk because you can hear the twigs break and you can smell the musky odor of the cat. Do you freeze or do you run? Frankly, we’re exhausted from it. We can’t stop thinking or talking about the moment we heard the lion roar nor can we stop reliving the events leading up to it when like a herd of distracted deer we were innocently moving along without any sense of fear, unaware of what lurked just feet away in the bushes.

Strangely, when Quinn and I told people we were close enough to actually smell a cougar and were tracked like some sort of kitty treat, most people responded with ennui. “Really? Huh, that must have been scary” was the general reaction. Scary? I’d say life-altering type of fear would better cover it. For Quinn and me it was one of the most terrifying moments of our lives.

"I think people can't imagine how alone we felt when they live in neighborhoods with stores and things" Quinn suggested. "They just don't get it. They think you have neighbors. They can't visualize not seeing another person for at least a mile".

Since misery loves company, Quinn decided to stay yet another night.  She had soccer practice and so we went to retrieve her after gymnastics in the itsy-bitsy town of Alger. This meant we were going to wind around Lake Whatcom on our way home. The lake was beautiful with the sun dancing on the water, boats bobbing at their docks all framed by the wooded hills. It was soothing seeing the quaint houses dotting the banks and I wondered if maybe Awesomez would want to buy one eventually. Mental note, send Lindsey the real estate section since she seems to currently be in charge of the all family decisions.

Lost in thought, I was thinking about needing a walk wondering if maybe I should walk around while I’m at gymnastics next time. It is absolutely imperative I get my exercise so I can keep up with Awesomez’ weight loss. She's kicking my butt as she's already lost seven pounds. I briefly considered walking with Deli and an air horn. In fact I was just considering whether or not this was completely fool hardy when we passed something on the side of the road that caught my attention. I hit the brakes, and threw the van into reverse.

“Mom! What’s happening?”

“Neese! Are you crazy?” Paying them little heed I continued to back up and pull to the side of the road.

“No one get hysterical, I just have to see if I saw what I think I saw” I informed them. “ I was right. Look” I instructed.

(treadmill on the side of the road)

(Free! treadmill?)

“What the...? It’s a treadmill.”

Have you ever in your life seen a treadmill on the side of the road?” I asked.

“How much is it?” Henry asked.

“The sign says ‘Free’ do you think it works?” I wondered.

“Neese, a free treadmill just when you said you needed one? Couldn’t you ask for say a pony for me?” Quinn asked incredulously.

“Do you think we can fit it in?” I wondered aloud.

“Yes, we’re getting it” Quinn stated firmly.

“It’s heavy,” I said.

“We can do it,” Quinn said.

“Oh WE can, can WE,” I said skeptically sizing it up. I stood next to the behemoth object and measured it with my body. It was taller than me and it seemed to weigh a ton. We took out all my Costco purchases and folded down the seats. I lay down. “It’s going to be a tight fit, if we can do it”.

“Oh we’re doing it,” Quinn pushed. I wanted it so I followed her lead and began inching the thing into the car. With the assistance of Quinn and Henry I managed to tip the thing up in the back.

“Henry do that for your mom, you’re strong,” Quinn insisted.

“My mom is way stronger than me,” Henry said as I strained to lift the cumbersome object using my legs.

“You’re like Wonder Woman!” Quinn marveled. “How did you get so strong?”

“Grandpa Horn, I guess I’m a chip off the old block,” I said grimacing.

As it began to get dark, we got the machine in and were able to close the door. “If it doesn’t work I’m going to hurt someone” Quinn said “How weird, you were just looking on Craigslist to see if you could afford one and we drive this way for the first time since Griffin died, and we just happen to pass a treadmill on the side of the road. If this was a movie I wouldn’t believe it”.

(my little helpers, Henry and Quinn with our prize)

(Henry and Quinn)

(goofy Henry & Quinn)

“I know!  Remember when I prayed for the turtle? And Leo came walking up Califa the next day? Someone's, looking over us, probably Grandma” Henry added.

“I think so too,” I said. This was just like my mother, so "Miracle On 34th Street". She was always so Hollywood. Clearly she would not have liked me endangering her grandchildren, I can just hear her "Go ahead and take risks with our own life for a couple of pounds, but you're not taking my grandchildren" I could hear her plain as day. A moment later I heard something move in the bushes. Quinn, Henry and I stood statue still. We looked at each other all thinking the same thing and hopped in the car. Not waiting to find out what it was, I sped off with my new treadmill in the back.

--

August 3rd Scent Of A Woman

(New shoes don't stay new for long)

Sitting back in a Weight Watchers meeting I was happy to be facing the music. Again. I’d been snacking to the point of my clothes being too tight and frankly I can’t afford new clothes so I’m out of options.

There was a brand new leader on Tuesday, eager and peppy. At first, I thought she might be a little too enthusiastic, but as I listened to her talk I decided I was really ready to commit. She was all about challenges; she had some vegetable challenge where you were supposed to have more than half your plate full of vegetables, and apparently the week before she had a “try-a-new-vegetable-challenge” and now she was issuing an exercise challenge. I was up for it, but as I sat quietly lost in thought I drifted back to why I’d stopped walking a year ago, the cougar episode. I was afraid of the big cats, but now I had true motivation, competition. Awesomez had joined Weight Watcher’s too and now we had a contest. Something akin to the biggest loser, and there is nothing like a contest to get me going.

Determined, I took the 50.00 bill Awesomez had hidden in my wallet and bought a decent pair of walking shoes. I laced up the next morning with my new walking coach, Henry who donned his bicycle helmet and accompanied me. We went early in the cool of the morning.  I felt smug as I toasted my two point multi-grain English muffin smearing two points of creamy peanut butter on top while I sipped my coffee fresh from the glow of my walk.

The next day, my “coach” was too tired and the bum slept in, so Vivian and I went it alone. Walking along, I noticed some poop in the middle of the road. Curious I studied it. It was big enough and it was filled with hair, I suspected it was cougar scat but knew it was far fetched we hadn’t seen cougar in a long time and what were the odds it would poop in the middle of the road. The scat was still fresh with urine puddled, I didn’t want my imagination to carry me away, but nonetheless it’s not what you want to see as you try and walk off a couple of chocolate meringues from Trader Joes™. I would research the specimen later and identify the culprit. Vivian had a completely different attitude; she walked up squatted and confidently peed right over it. Her confidence gave me confidence and I walked on accompanied by my canine bodyguard.

(Clearly cougar scat - this picture taken some time later when I came back in my car)

(a wider view)

On my third walk, Amy and my “coach” both came with me, Vivian and Irish. We chatted and laughed and probably didn’t walk as fast or as far as we should have, but I got my heart rate up.

Walk number four was Phoebe, Quinn and Henry on his bicycle with my constant walking companions Vivian, and Irish. The canine bullet, Rat-Bat (Bruno) somehow escaped the house, squeezed under the fence and found us half a mile away.

“Look that’s the cougar scat my mom saw the other day”.

“Why would a cougar go in the middle of the road?” Phoebe asked.

“Well, there were four things that identify cougar scat. First it should be as big as a large dog. Check. Two, it should have hair from it’s last kill. Check. Three it should be in segments. Check and double check. And four, the documents say, it’s important to note where the scat is. Cougars like to mark their territory and so they go out in the open usually in the middle of a trail” I explained.

“That’s in the middle of a trail all right,” Phoebe agreed.

Together, we walked faster and farther, but didn’t quite walk as long as I would have liked because I needed to get to work.

(the forest is thick with fern)

This morning, I was down to only Quinn and Henry, who was sick of how hot his helmet made his head and pushing his bicycle up some of the steeper hills decided he would walk. I left Vivian the guard dog home due to limping. We took Irish and started out. The morning was crisp and bright. Sun streamed dreamily through the trees as we marched up the hill determined this time to finally get to the bridge. About three-quarters of a mile into the walk I smelled an overwhelming odor, as pungent as a skunk but not a skunk at all. I looked around wondering what the smell was.

“Do you smell that?” I asked.

“No. I don’t smell anything” Quinn answered keeping stride.

“I smell a really strong smell. It reminds me of ‘Harry and the Henderson’s. You know, they say Sasquatch smells really strong and that’s how you know it’s there”.

“I remember that movie,” Quinn said. “We saw it with Tom and Wayne I think”.

“You know, there are more Sasquatch sightings on the 9 than just about anywhere. The guys from the city who were out here last week said they weren’t going to rule out Sasquatch in a forest this size. And besides, it’s the non-believer who gets it in the end” I said through my huffing and puffing. “Or the annoying, squirrely kid on the bike”.

“Good thing I don’t have my bike, “ Henry smiled.

“Neese you kind of sound like a warthog when you’re walking and talking” Quinn so kindly informed me. Just then, we heard a huge rustle in the bushes and we could see the foliage moving.

“That’s big enough to be an elk,” I said thinking back to that fateful day last summer when I’d said just about the same thing. We walked on.

“Didn’t Kristi, the girl who used to live here, see a Sasquatch?” Quinn asked.

“Well, she saw something. She was lost one night in the late fall and something about the size of a black bear went in front of her car. She stopped and it looked at her, but she couldn’t identify it. It really freaked her out”.

“She said it kind of had the face of a monkey” Henry interjected.

“She didn’t want anyone to think she was a kook, so she never really told anyone else, but it was near the Strand Road on the 9” I snorted. We heard another break of a branch in the bushes. It wasn’t as loud as before but seemed just behind us. We turned to look but didn’t see anything.

“I smell the smell you were talking about” Quinn said sniffing the air.

“Me too. Ugh it’s horrible. Maybe it is a Sasquatch” Henry laughed.

“Yeah, maybe it’s tracking us right now. Maybe we’re being followed by Harry, he left the Henderson’s. Or we think we’re being followed by a Sasquatch and a cougar will jump out of the bushes” she laughed too.

“Of course, we’re going to see a Sasquatch, I didn’t bring my camera” I added as I quickened our pace.

The conversation wound around to aliens, the Egyptians, alternate Universes, Loch Ness and unexplored regions of our oceans. We discussed cave drawings and giant squid, the cruelty of man and science and our inability as a species to allow others to co-exist. Quinn wished we’d see Sasquatch and could give him refuge on the farm. “He could eat blueberries and we’d be friends with him, but we wouldn’t tell anyone” she said wistfully.

“Yeah right, look at the Giant Squid it was dead after just one day, you’d think they’d learn” Henry said as we reached the bridge. “They can’t leave well enough alone”. We looked around a bit taking stock of what had been done. The place was deserted which seemed strange for a work day, but no wonder they’d scheduled almost a year if they’re not going to be working on the renovations consistently.

“This is just about two miles, it’s getting hot so let’s get going,” I said as Henry turned the happy-to-be-on-walk Irish around. I thought of Vivian probably moping at home sitting on my bed thinking she’d been replaced.

We walked a long easily as Quinn pondered if Kristi had actually seen Sasquatch. “Then according to Kristi, a Sasquatch doesn’t have to be that big. Now maybe she saw a baby, who knows. People probably exaggerate,“ Quinn surmised.

“Like when they almost catch a fish,” Henry concurred.  And so Quinn and Henry concluded a colony of Sasquatch possibly the size of Henry could easily remain undetected in the forests of the Pacific Northwest. I had no argument to the contrary.

We walked at a fairly quick pace going up and down the hills and around the turns. We saw a smashed snake on the road and a few beer cans in the underbrush and I was wondering if the pack of Spirit’s on the side of the road were purchased at the Everybody’s’ Store, when I heard the low guttural roar of a lion. It wasn’t a loud roar like at the beginning of an MGM film, but it was unmistakable nonetheless. There’s nothing like a lion’s roar to make you realize you’re not necessarily at the top of the food chain. I looked over my shoulder searching the brush realizing the smell had been Karen, the cougar, not Harry. Quinn saw me look and went white.

“I was hoping that was your stomach,” she said with a look of terror in her eyes.

“You heard it”.

“Yes I heard it”.

            “Heard what?” Henry asked as he and Irish bounced along unaware a cougar was stalking us.

“We just heard a lion growl, didn’t you?” Quinn asked.

“No, I didn’t all I could hear was Irish panting” he said.

“Well, it wasn’t a loud I’m-going-to-pounce-on you-growl it was a-I’m-right-here-and-I’d-like-you-to-leave-right-now-growl” Quinn informed him sternly.

“No one panic. No yelling, no running. A cougar can cover up to 30 feet in one bound so there’s not a chance of out running them. They’re ambush predators so I’m going to just keep looking back and making sure we’re ok. Just keep walking at the same pace. They don’t want a fight. I just hope we don’t look like walking Land jaegers,” I said trying to make light of the situation.

“Maybe it was a bear,” Henry suggested.

“Well, I’d rather face a bear because at least I wouldn’t be a primary food source. They’re not carnivores. We can check the sound when we get home, but I don’t think so,” I said fairly certain.

“Notice it’s right near the scat we saw earlier” Henry pointed out. That meant we had three-quarters of a mile yet to go and I’d forgotten the air horn. How could I be so careless? Why wasn’t Irish reaching? I wondered if he had doggie ADHD. I wished I’d brought Deli. Then thanked my lucky stars I hadn’t brought Vivian, she wouldn’t have been so calm and probably would have gotten herself or us killed.

“Mama, at least you can say you got your heart rate up,” Henry said with a giggle.

“Henry! You don’t seem to be taking this seriously!” Quinn said exasperated.

(home again, home again)

When we got home we immediately started researching cougar. Playing every cougar audio clip we could find until we found a match. “It says here it might be a female in heat and that’s why she smells so strong right now,” Quinn read to us.

(Play cougar sound)

“I didn’t even know cougar smelled, but I’ll never forget it,” Henry said.

“Me either, I can’t believe we were close enough to smell her. I mean how close do you think that is? How far do you suppose we were? You didn’t smell them the other two times you saw them did you?”

“No I didn’t”

“Do you think maybe a couple of yards? I read about a guy who smelled a bear and he was only six feet away. Do you think we were that close?” Quinn asked wanting answers.

“I just don’t know,” I said, uneasy thinking about how close we’d been to such a frightening but magnificent animal.

I called Tom and relayed the events of the morning playing him the sounds we’d found on the Internet. When I hung up, Quinn asked, “What did Tom say when you told him?”

“Get a treadmill".

July 20th Blood Sweat & Tears

(Nick loved his bloody eye- a result of  of something like sneezing or who knows what)

    The laundry room reeked and for once it wasn’t Henry’s socks. The little chickens and turkeys had a big smell. What’s more they were stuffed in what was once a roomy container. However, they were still too small for the chicken coop. Still babies, they needed to stay warm and protected. What they needed was a playpen. So, Tom built them one. It’s a cozy little area in a corner of the coop where they can stay for awhile.

(The new digs)

 

(Phoebe and Carly transport the chicks in stages)

(Henry helps out)

(chick, chick, chickie - Michael- does a moonwalk )
(ready!)

(The turkeys arrive first)

(Tom demonstrates the fancy hatch and latch combination)

(the orange-socked kid and Michael - Jackson or Learned)

(Chicken George? No that's farm boy Henry)

(Phoebe and Henry in the temporary coop)

    In a very short time, it became apparent from their obsessive desire to climb on the kids that the chickens were going to need a roost and so Tom built one. He took a branch from the burn pile and voila, a roost any chicken or turkey would love.

(They love their roost)

(the branch roost)

    Nick, recuperating from his bloody eye, and Lindsey exhausted from painting her nails. They both  relaxed throughout the day with Luther in front of the TV.

(Lindsey and Lu)

(Nick and his buddy, Lu-Lu)

(Carly and Miracle commune)

    Meanwhile, Awesomez and I cleaned the barn. Not the just take out the really bad parts cleaning, but a serious down to the mat cleaning. It was hot and dusty and the barn was nasty. At first, I have to admit I was skeptical she would really hang with me through the entire project, but despite the heat and the ammonia smell Awesomez was awesome. She scooped and pitched and shoveled tirelessly sweat dripping off her. I know I kept staring her in disbelief as she shovel scraped the barn floor.

(Awesomez works tirelessly)

(American Go-Go-gothic)

(tractor -girl Awesomez doesn't give up)

(June/Spoon always having fun)


(It's all about the chicken coop)

(Bruno and Tom)

    The next morning, after a stream of hugs and tears and promises to return June, Carly and Tom away drove away in the Hummer. The house suddenly seemed quiet, and I was grateful I still had Awesomez for a few more days. We set to work again cleaning up. Having lots of people around the house is great, but, Mary and Joseph, there is a lot of laundry and even more dishes.

(Exhausted - we take a Luther-type nap with Bruno in the game room)

    The next couple of days were filled with long talks about our mothers, Lisa’s mother had just very recently passed away, and ideas about the future. Should she move from Mammoth, can she move from Mammoth? And get rich quick schemes to save the farm. And then the alarm rang at 4:00AM and the party was over time to leave for the airport.

    Nick walked in the airport without a glance over his shoulder. Lindsey and I hugged good-bye. A rare moment as I am not a hugger, but I’d put her through her paces and she’d even endured the “teacher-glare”.

(5:00AM at bustling Bellingham International)

    “You’re welcome to come back, but I think you should come for three weeks without your mother and I’m removing the phones so you can’t call for help”.

    “Linds, I’d be scared for you” Awesomez said with a nervous laugh.

    “I could do it, maybe for Christmas I have two weeks off”.

    “I don’t know, your mother wouldn’t be able to save you,” I said with a maniacal laugh.

    “I could do it” she said her confidence shaky.

    “Really?” Quinn said in disbelief. “Denise without your mom? That means hardly any TV, barely and barely any Internet”.

    “But I like making pumpkin pies and ice cream and stuff” Lindsey tried.

    “You’d have to work” Quinn reminded her.

    “Not all the time” I countered.

(Quinn and Lindsey say good-bye - Quinn is four months younger)

    After the airport, I dropped Quinn off at home and drove back to my house to change clothes and get ready for work. I made another pot of coffee, fed the dogs, let the animals out of the barn, made Henry’s list of chores and woke him up for waffles.

    “It feels so quiet. Is it just us?”

    “Yep, sorry”

    “No, I didn’t mean that, it’s just been so long since it’s just been the two of us. Maybe a month, well more 'cause we had Alexis and before that Wayne it’s been like a year and before that Mike was here”.

    “I know and now I’m off to work, you’ll be alone. I’ve got an eight-hour shift today. You can watch TV and relax after you do your chores. And remember, you can call me if you need me”

    “I will.” Henry said as he shut the gate behind me and ran back up to the house.
The day dragged, the store was hot and I was sleepy from the early morning airport run and was feeling the let down from everyone leaving when Henry called.

    “Mama?”

    “Yes Honey, what is it?”

    “Well, the man called about Sir Edward”

    “What?”

    “The man who has cancer, he wants to bring Sir Edward over tonight. He said he talked to dad a couple of days ago”.

    “Yeah he did” Tom had told me the guy had come by the other day and was pretty urgent. He’d said he’d heard from his neighbor we’d said we’d consider taking him last winter and wanted to know if we were serious. He was out of hay. “Hey, did you know Sir Edward is a retired racehorse? Tom had asked.

    “No. Really? Well that means he can be ridden.” Tom had said yes without a thought to the cost or food or vet care or anything.

    “Why do you want to do something different?” He’d asked me.

    “Oh right, I’m going to deny a dying man peace. Seriously” I’d said.

    “Exactly” He’d countered.

    “Henry they said tonight? Wow. I guess we’ll put him in the paddock behind the barn for now” I said my mind spinning. A horse, we’re getting a horse.  “Hen, I’ll call you back. I’m going to call him now. I’ll call you back”. I dialed the number.

     “Hello?”

    “Hi, this is Denise I’m calling about Sir Edward” I said gently.

    “Oh yeah, well look my ole man’s not here right now, but we got some friends said they’d come by here pick up Sir Edward and then drop him by your place”.

    “Well, that’s OK, but um I don’t get off until 8:00PM” I explained thinking this was clearly too late.

    “Nahh, I know that you’re boy told me. That’s OK he’ll be there when you get home. Now I can’t talk about this anymore, I’m losing my baby” she said dissolving into tears as I hung up.

    Since there were three of us closing the store, I asked Chayse and Ben if they minded if I took off a few minutes early to get home before the people delivered the horse. I didn’t want Henry having to deal with accepting the horse with a bunch of strangers all by himself. I wasn’t even sure the paddock was the right place for the horse. But Sir Edward was already in the paddock when I pulled up. Miracle was not happy. She was raising her head as high as she could and prancing around trying to look taller and Henry was hovering nearby looking uncomfortable. I saw a man walking toward me with his hand extended.

    “You must be Denise”

    “Nice to meet you” I said somewhat overwhelmed.

    “Well I got Sir Edward settled in and left his brushes, fly spray, lead ropes and blanket over here on your porch” he pointed. “He doesn’t like it when you spray the fly spray near his face, so put it on his fly mask before you put it on him” he explained. I nodded.

    “OK” I said, “I will”. I stood there looking at him without words. Suddenly we had a horse and this man before me was dying. I wanted to give him peace, but I was nervous about this whole thing. A horse is a lot of responsibility and potential expense, but I was doing it anyway.

    “I was thinking I might take part of the barn-type area where we keep our tractor and make it into a stall for him”.

    “Oh he’d like that, but he’s used to being outside. He’s just had a cedar tree as shelter all winter so he’ll like that fine”.

    “Good” was all I managed to eek out.

    “He’s confused now with me leaving him here, but he’ll settle down, it’s been a long day” he said showing his fatigue. “I’ve got to go, my ole lady’s at home crying her eyes out”.

    “Well, it’s better he comes here than he’s dead. She should be happy about that” Henry said without thinking. The poor woman was losing both her companions. I elbowed Henry in the side. Hard.

    “Don’t worry, we’ll take really good care of him and of course she’s always welcome t come visit him,” I said.

    “Well, I gotta go, be good to him” he said and walked to the truck parked outside my gate.

    Henry looked at me, “We have a horse!”

    “We have a horse,” I said.

(Thoroughbred - Sir Edward of Mosquito Lake Road - courtesy of Amy - www.psychophotography.net )

July 16th Without A Paddle

   

(Deli - proof only mad dogs and Englishmen)

    It was one of those still mornings when you can feel the heat on your skin and you just know the day is going to be hellish hot. As part of our fun activities we had planned to go whale watching and spend a gloriously sunny day relaxing on a boat cruising the stunning San Juans looking for orca. Unfortunately, on the only day the cruise ran, I had to work and I mean I had to work. Jeff was expecting a slew of travel writers on Friday who were doing a press junket and they wanted to feature the Everybody’s Store. He needed all hands on deck.

    As a fallback, June, Awesomez and I decided to take the kids tubing down the Nooksack River with my sister. Tom although an enthusiastic tuber, decided a man’s place was in the chicken coop close to his Skilsaw™ and opted-out as he wanted to build another door before he his time was up and he had to return to real life in California.

(Pea almost always working)

    In preparation for the trip Henry counted tubes, while Quinn counted life jackets. The river is only inches deep in some places, but my sister and I are fiercely safety conscious, subscribing to the belief that if someone gets in trouble, you can’t help them if you’re exhausted. And there’s always the possibility you could hit your head. This seems nuts to most and hardly a tuber is seen with a life jacket, and it’s often a battle to get some adults to wear their life preserver. Awesomez was no exception. I got the whole I-used-to-swim-competitively-speech in Wal-Mart as I grabbed a couple of little life vests to stuff Lindsey and Henry in.

    Outside The Acme General Store Henry inflated the tubes and the rest of the kids lounged on a bench in the shade. In a group our size everything takes longer, getting snacks, sunglasses, shoes, sunscreen and towels in the right tube, on the right person or situated in the right car. Awesomez and I went and deposited the my sister’s van on Strand Road, only a couple of miles away, but about a three hour float.
It was getting later than I liked. We were putting in at almost 3:45PM, but it was hot, hot, hot and we’d be done by 7:00PM so I didn’t really worry, as it doesn’t get dark until 9:30PM or so.

    “Lisa, I don’t need one if we don’t have enough” Awesomez offered.

    “Lisa, this isn’t a swimming pool there are obstacles and things that can happen” my sister said unyielding. “We have enough life jackets as, Tom isn’t here,” she stated as we trudged down to the riverbank. I smiled to myself as I noticed Awesomez’ lifejacket wasn’t fastened. Knowing her rebellious nature and the fact that she's my big sister, I didn’t push her, at least she had it on. I considered that a win.

(June, Carly and Quinn ready for fun)

(Lindsey not so sure)

(Nickie ready to tube!)

(Henry walking to the river)

(Henry posing a chip off the old Robert's block- thank God)

(Carly getting in her tube)

    From the moment we got in the river June transformed into a bubbly Esther Williams. She paddled and splashed laughed and twirled her tube singing a happy song. While Lindsey on the other hand, did not meet Old Man River with the same excitement. She was in a snit from the moment her toes touched the alpine stream. She sat there in the middle of her tube motionless pouting.

(starting out - note my bar on the far right - )

    “I can’t do it. I’m not big enough,” she complained. June looked at me and rolled her eyes.

    “Linds, you're thirteen, Phoebe is eight, and shorter than you, she’s doing it. C’mon you’re a swimmer” I called over my shoulder as the current took me and the floating bar tethered to my tube merrily along.

    “I can’t!” She screamed in a voice that set my teeth on edge.

    “Then roll over on your tummy and kick,” I suggested.

    “Yeah, roll over Lily-Pop and kick” June chimed as she bounced along.

    “I can’t!” Lindsey screamed again with a scowl on her face. Mama Awesomez took over and, waded back to help Lindsey.

    “Just don’t talk to her,” Awesomez suggested as she splashed by. I gladly complied remembering my early angst ridden teen years where everything was horrible and no one understood me, including myself.
The rest of the floaters, Henry, Nick, Quinn, Phoebe, Carly and Lisa were scattered about the river laughter streaming behind them like ribbons in the water.  June had gotten out of her tube to blow it up and accidently let a good deal of air out. The opening was quite large and needed a conical shaped adapter to inflate it. She was stuck. Now she stood there in the middle of the river with a saggy tube.
“It’s OK I can still float on it” She said trying to make the best of it, but gone was the lilt in her cheery voice. I grabbed the tube folded the plastic back and began to blow, and blow and blow and blow. I wanted Esther Williams back.

    When the tube was properly inflated June simply looked at me and said “Impressive” followed by a few giggles and well, OK there were a few other comments, I will leave up to the gentle reader’s imagination. Anyway during this time my sister had gone around a bend in the river and gotten stuck on a downed tree jutting out horizontally across the water, half the branches were sticking up out of the water and the other half poking down into the river. She tried giving the thumbs down signal to the rest of the group to avoid this turn by getting out and walking around. Lindsey was the only one who saw the signal and got out. I did not. And got stuck, but was able to free the mini bar and myself without spilling a drink. Awesomez did not see the signal either and followed me a bit distracted by Lindsey, wondering why her child was now exiting the river after she’d just gotten her going.

    A novice tuber Awesomez had little control of her tube initially andgot trapped under the tree. Struggling against the current to right herself as her asthma medication floated away. Awesomez who has serious asthma never goes anywhere, anywhere with out her inhaler. Trying to stay calm in light of the life threatening loss she pulled herself up just righting herself in time to see June and Phoebe who were now clipped together with a rope coming tumbling toward her. Seeing the rope knowing there was nothing she could do, she braced herself for the hit, she went down again. Exhausted and with out her shoes on she was beginning to get in trouble, when she was hit again by Quinn and then some guy, and then a blond woman with a pony tail who I could hear say callously “Don’t worry you didn’t hurt me” to Awesomez after she pushed her back into the tree once again. During this time by the grace of God, Phoebe found Awesomez’ medication.

    “The pack just floated right up to my foot and I grabbed it,” she explained with her sunshine smile.

    "The river giveth what the river taketh away" I said as she gave it to me. I beached my rig making my way back to the tree. When I got there a scared and exhausted Awesomez was struggling to keep her composure. She was caught under the tree again and trying to maintain her breathing. Quinn was wrapped around her and unsure how to get herself out.

    Nick worried too about his mother was right behind me. I climbed the tree and made my way over to the struggling pair while Nick was on the bank not far away. Quinn was still sitting in her tube, but Awesomez was barely above water caught on a branch of the tree.

    “Quinnie! Look at me! Put your feet above your head on the tree so you’re sitting in a “V’ then I’ll pull you out of the water and you can stand here on the tree. OK?”

    “Niece, I can’t do it. I’m not strong enough,” she sounded panicky.

    “No. You don’t have to, I’ll pull you, just put your feet there and hold on wrist to wrist so we don’t slip, just like your mother and I taught you we did in vaulting”.

    “I’ll try,” she said feebly. Putting her feet up. I grabbed my sister’s child with all my strength and up that oversized beanpole came.

    “Now, jump off the tree into that spot right there where it’s deep and Nick will help you get to the edge Right Nick?”

    “Right” Nick responded dutifully. “Over here Quinn” he encouraged retrieving her tube I’d already tossed. Splash! In she went. One down.
Now for Awesomez. “Lisie, I’m going to get you out.”

    “I’m hurt and I’m so tired and my inhaler is gone,” she told me so I’d know the whole picture.

    “No, Phoebe found your inhaler and shoes down stream so we have them don’t worry” I said gently trying to reassure her.

    “People keep hitting me, June and Phoebe and this rope. I went over the rope and under the tree,” she said looking exhausted and depleted.

    “I know I could see from where I was, that’s why I’m here. Who thought I’d be helping you” I tried t make light of the situation. “Now I want you to do just like Quinn did. I’ll pull you up”

    “I’m too far below you, I can’t even reach your hand. I’m going to have to get up on one of these branches,” she said and I agreed, as she was all but submerged and tangled in a mass of branches. Watching her I could see the fear in her eyes, slowly and carefully she pulled herself up onto a branch just beneath the surface of the water, once there I was able to get her to the top of the tree.

    “Now you’re going to have to jump back into the water,” I commanded authoritatively.

    “What? I don’t want to” she resisted.

    “You have to, it’s the only way. You’ll be all right, Nick’s there he’ll help you”.

    “I’m here Mama” Nick assured her.

    “OK Son” she called back, “but I’m not jumping. Can’t I just lower myself in?”

    “Sure, but I think you might hit more branches and it’ll take more strength. You look exhausted,” I said.

    “I am,” she returned as she sank into the water again.

    That disaster behind us we regrouped on the banks of the river. Awesomez depleted both physically and emotionally sat in her tube quietly for most of the afternoon.

    “Awesomez, you look dead” Carly was heard to say each and every time she floated by Awesomez.
“Really, you look dead. Did you really go over the rope and under the tree?” She’d ask in naïve amazement, forcing a reluctant Awesomez relive the ordeal over and over again.

    The rest of the afternoon went on mostly without incident except for the Phoebe ordeal. Phoebe after rescuing the inhaler got in trouble again with the rope clipping her to June. June went around a rock and fell out of her tube while Phoebe and the rest of the rope could not. Phoebe now stuck in deep water alone couldn’t un-hook the clip and Lisa was some distance away while I was still helping Awesomez. Henry seeing Phoebe was in trouble leapt from his tube and swam against the current pulling himself hand over hand on the rope until he reached his cousin. He couldn’t unclip the tube either, but stayed with Pheebes comforting her until Lisa could get there. Phoebe was beyond grateful to her hero, Henry.

(Nick floatin' along)

(Henry enjoying the float)

(Lisa relaxing)

(Our happy tubers on the Nooksack with Mt. Baker in the distance)

    We now bounced along singing and chatting. June sporting her floppy hat was enjoying herself so much Carly asked her on more than one occasion if she was drunk.

    “No I’m not drunk silly, I’m just carefree and having a gosh darn good time as river-rat Barbie” June explained to her niece who usually sees her dressed to the nines full of responsibility with her big job. Just then we heard a scream.

    “Was that laughing or crying?” I wondered aloud.

    “I think it was laughing,” June guessed and floated on. I didn’t think so. It was Quinn and she was with Awesomez.  If there ever was a pair destined for trouble it was them, “Klutz and Klutzier”. Too far downstream to help, I waited and watched from a distance.

     Quinn had veered to the left and gotten stuck on another tree. Tumbling out of her tube she was then caught on and scraped by an unseen branch causing her to scream bloody murder. Seeing the fear emblazoned on Quinn’s face Awesomez reflexively jumped out of her tube, and went to rescue Quinn from the treacherous branches below the surface - thanks to help of her life jacket they both made it out in a relatively short time. From their faces, I’m not sure who was more frightened, but somehow they managed escaping a little worse for wear.

    While Quinn and Awesomez seemed to be riding the rapids from hell, the rest of us floated merrily along. Phoebe and June navigated the twists and turns relatively carefree and Lindsey bobbled about enjoying the ride. Nick and Henry were in their own boy world talking about who knows what, but having fun nonetheless. I sipped my libation and scooted betwixt and between them all serving up refreshments when the mood struck me. When you’re the bartender, everyone wants to be your friend. Although, I could hear a parched Awesomez hollering “You’re the worst bartender ever!” from way upstream at me because I wasn't attending to the stragglers. She was laying like something dead in her tube according to Carly.

(Lindsey Rose and June)

(Quinn floating by)

(Nick and Mama Awesomez)

    The sun began to wan as we continued to float and suddenly it seemed to be getting a lot cooler which is what I’d been afraid putting in so late. We kept looking for the beach at Strand Road, but with the extreme weather last winter and now the extreme heat lowering the water levels everything looked a lot different. I realized I should have walked down to the banks and looked for some kind of marker like I did last year with Tom, but in my haste to get everyone going I hadn’t. I was kicking myself now as the kids started ask “how much longer?” I really didn’t know the answer. I didn’t have my watch on. We kept stopping and looking then continuing on. We’d seen some floaters earlier who said they were going to the bridge, but that was all the way at Potter Road by the Everybody’s Store and we weren’t going that far that was about a five hour float.

    The light was sinking fast and we were now the only ones on the river. I knew we were lost. June still enjoying herself kept singing “…set sail that day for a three hour tour, a three hour tour. The weather started getting rough…” and Henry’s lips were eggplant and he was shivering like a Chihuahua. Of all people, Lindsey turned out to be a real trooper and kept on going without a word. Awesomez was done before she started and was just enduring the experience, Quinn was over the whole thing and my sister and I were feeling the strain of responsibility. Exchanging knowing looks as we eyed the banks. We figured, worst-case scenario we’d climb the banks and plow through someone’s cornfield. As the last of the light slipped from the sky we came around a bend in the river to reveal a bridge.

    “A bridge, the bridge! We’re here!” Nick cried and everyone was relieved, except Lisa and me.
“Bridge? There is no bridge at Strand Road” I said softly.

    “I don’t remember one either” she said. 

"That's because there isn't  one" I said.

(The bridge)

 Cold and hungry we all got out of our tubes and began looking for a way up. Awesomez and my sister trekked through a narrow passage with a few of the kids and found their way to the bridge first. Nick came back for the rest of us. Once on the bridge, I knew we had gone all the way to Potter Road. By the time we got there Awesomez explained they’d hailed down a guy in a tie-dyed t-shirt on a Harley and Lisa was now hitching a ride to her van on Strand Road.

    “At least she’s on a motorcycle it’s less likely he’ll stop and kill her,” Henry said hopefully. I hadn’t seen the man and for a moment, fear gripped my heart. Lisa and I have seen our share of evil, but I knew my sister was not a foolish risk taker, so I tried to remain calm, although riding a motorcycle, soaking wet with no protection was scary enough. At least Harley riders had some sense.

    Moments later, the grey-haired motorcycle man pulled up “You must be our Knight in Shining Armor!” I called.

    “Hey there, I think I scared that mama to death, but she’s on her way back with the van” the man said.

    “Where you all from?” He asked.

    “California, Mammoth” Awesomez responded.

    “Well, you’re no city girl” he answered back.

    “Bellingham” Quinn answered and he nodded.

    “Mosquito Lake Road,” I said, “I work at the Everybody’s Store,” I added.

    “I’m Jim Abernathy”

    “Oh my gosh! Jim Abernathy! I’ve read you’re flyers, you’re heading up all the local meetings about the thefts recently aren’t you?”

    “Yeah, that’s me. I’ve known Jeff a long time but I sure as hell wouldn’t work for him,” he said with a smile.  I smiled at this.

    “Amy makes it easy” I said and he smiled knowingly. We spent the next few minutes thanking our hero for taking the time to stop.

(The rescue! Carly, Lindsey, Awesomez, Lisa. Jim Abernathy, Quinn, Phoebe, June and Nick)

    When we finally got home a worried Tom had the Hummer keys in hand and was just about to go look for us. Wonderfully, he’d barbecued his spectacular tri-tip ready which had been ready for over an hour, baked potatoes were in the oven and watermelon sat on the counter cutup and ready to eat. Descending on the food like vultures no one spoke until the food was completely gone.

    “Now Denise, I’m going to need that nice Jim Abernathy’s address so I can send him a proper thank you note for rescuing us” June chirped as she poured Awesomez another medicinal glass of Pinot to soothe her injuries. “I had such a good time today” she cooed.

    “I know, you really did” Awesomez said trying to smile through her obvious pain. Her blood red and purple bruises now quite visible, “It was fun to watch you like that again”.

    “I felt so free” June agreed.

    “I thought she was drunk and you were dead,” Carly said completely deadpan again.

    “Well, if everything had gone as planned it wouldn’t have been such an adventure” Quinn said. That's my girl.

July 14th In The Miller-tary

   

(now named "Bucket"-by Awesomez - this little turkey-lurkey sits on top of his water bucket)

(Cleaning out the laundry room - lining the bottom of the chicken/turkey cage)

    Nothing inspires a reluctant housekeeper more than the promise of a houseful of guests. I cleaned and scoured for the first wave of arrivals. A bit worried about the sleeping arrangements as I’d really thought I could get the second guest room ship shape before they came, but alas that was not to be. Every time I had a spare moment, some other catastrophe happened, from the pond on down. I didn’t even get the porch finished, but no matter, I have two capable fold out sofas.

(the babies in a temporary plastic drawer while I clean out their first home)

    Lisa Gomez also known as, Awesomez, and her children Nick and Lindsey were coming for a two-week family farm vacation. Awesomez has always been known as a tough athlete. She was the quarterback, the point guard or whatever we needed her to be in college. A little known fact about Awesomez (aka Go-Go) is that she’s really quite fragile bordering on wimpy. Oh sure, she's skilled. She could throw the winning throw or hit the hit that would win the game, and probably still can, but she was never as strong as little ole’ can’t-throw-a-softball-me.  Poor medal winning thing, she’s a wreck with asthma and accident-prone beyond belief. I prepared my home, trying to remove any glaring obstacles and every single pet hair. A feat of Herculean proportion in a house with five dogs and three cats, but not impossible if you come from German ancestry and drink a lot of coffee.

    I didn’t get the sheets on the beds before I had to pick them up at the airport, and thought although kind of weak and sickly, Awesomez is not at all persnickety. I had ‘til Sunday before my self-professed “Ava Gabor” college roommate, June, and her niece descended with Tom and Henry, but when I jumped in my car I knew even benevolent Awesomez couldn’t handle this kind of mess. I quickly drove to the shop and unloaded all the Christmas decorations I’d stored as well as sundry other things I’d put in the back while cleaning out the garage.

    Awesomez arrived buying groceries at the market and ready to take care of everybody, as is her nature. Gone is her reckless, brazen side and although she’s still a fierce competitor, now she’s a kinder, gentler Gomez, a maternal Awesomez making sandwiches and waiting on her kids hand and foot, a real old fashioned Harriet Nelson with a tan and a margarita.

    Funny how things work out, I thought Lindsey would take to the farm like a fish to water and I was a little worried about Nick. Being fifteen and a half and I wasn’t sure there would be enough to keep him occupied. “Two weeks? My whole summer’s going to be gone!” he complained upon arrival. Nick surprised everyone including himself taking to the farm like a goat to blackberries. He learned to work the tractor and began hauling logs to clear the fence line. He’d be outside for hours, returning covered in sweat and dust for a glass of something cold just to head out again. Lindsey, thirteen and a serious girlie-girl princess-type, was not eager to join in. She was not so thrilled with the various animal droppings dotting the premises nor the butterflies nor the barn swallows or the work. She needed her rest. After some coaxing, goading and coercion she became my barn assistant extraordinaire. In no time she was herding goats and sheep while cooing to Miracle and feeding her four-legged friends barn cookies.

  (Nick takes to beekeeping in Henry's absence)

(Nick feeds Miracle - ala Green Acres - all we're missing is a pig named Arnold)

(Lindsey is not thrilled)

(Lindsey snaps to- if only my father was here to play Reveillee)

    On Friday, we went with Amy to the Bull-A-Rama in Sumas and saw Little Chris Donaldson go 8.25 seconds, milk a wild cow and win $1500.00. It was nothing less than spectacular and I felt so completely proud of Little Chris. Although I worry he won't be able to get out of bed when he's forty.

    Saturday Quinn arrived to hang with the kids; Awesomez drove me to work at the Everybody’s Store in my mobile barn and then cleaned the house again in preparation for June’s arrival. I couldn’t believe my eyes when she picked me up in my now immaculate Odyssey. I felt loved. Or was I being criticized? I decided not to care on the advice of my friend, Cynthia Lynn who gave me a stern talking to about learning to accept gifts of kindness from my friends.

(Awesomez, Lindsey & Nick's hat)

(Nick caught by surprise)

( Amy's pictures)

(Little Chris! - at least he wears a helmet)

(you can always see his fancy dancy chaps a flyin')

(whooo! hoooo!)

(part of the drill team)

    Sunday, we didn’t have to pick anyone up from the airport because June was going to rent a car. A car? June, her niece, Carly, Tom and Henry rolled in the driveway in a silver Hummer. So L.A. I laughed to myself as Tom had sworn never ever under any circumstances whatsoever to ride in a Hummer. Never say never.  On the way from the airport June had purchased enough groceries and wine for an army, which was good because we were now a group about the size of a battalion.

    Excited but a little apprehensive about being away from it all June and Carly were packing Benedryl™ just in case. They really didn’t have to, Awesomez had plenty for everyone. Carly, who marches to the beat of a different drummer made friends with the animals the moment she stepped out of the Hummer.  June was almost giddy at the idea her cell phone didn’t work out in the middle of nowhere, but wasn’t so crazy about the smell of the baby chickens and turkeys in the laundry room. She embraced the cowbells that kept Awesomez up the first night and jumped in with both feet wearing her spiffy new farm boots. June happily dug very pristine and straight trenches for the chicken coop foundation wearing her diamond earrings.  Having a roomie in college that was 5’12” (as a lady is never 6’) was always handy for reaching out of the way platters, wine glasses and olive oil that’s been put on the top shelf. But June’s vertical prowess was never more impressive than when she started painting the upper chicken coop beams without a ladder.

(June/Spoon and her niece, Carly)



(June in her kitchy boots and digging her trench- not very "County")

(June paints)

 
(Awesomez enjoying the great outdoors)

(Lindsey and Quinn's handiwork - Tom's farm "man"-icure)

(Me and Awesomez carry the cement)

(Awesomez works)

(keeping unwanted predators out)

(Carly brings gravel from the pond under Pea's careful scrutiny)

(Me, Awesomez and Spoon)

(Nick & Quinn in the forest)

(Awesomez in the forest - trying not to trip)

(Nick keeping cougars away with the airhorn)

(Lindsey and Phoebe give Bruno a bath)

(Lisa works tirelessly in my weed filled garden)

(Carly fell in love with Delta Blue)

(All the little beekeepers)

(June and Carly)

    The first night there was a blow out between the girls, Lindsey and Quinn (Phoebe went home and Carly decided to go Switzerland and sleep with June) and the boys, Nick and Henry that started badly and got worse. It was decided earlier in the week that if there were a time of choice or a treat it would be Nick’s pick as he’d been the workhorse with the logs. This didn’t go over so well with the girls, especially Lindsey.

    "But it's not fair Nick's going to always get to choose!" Lindsey said tearfully.

    "No that's not true he just gets this one pick Honey" I reassured her.

    "Yes he is, because you give rewards for work like a dog getting a treat! And I don't do work!" She cried.

    "What? Lindsey, this isn't just the rule at my house this is everywhere, you do work and you get paid."

    "But it's not fair!" she insisted.

This was just one of the kinks you have to expect when you have so many people. We had to have some adjustments of expectations, schedules and parenting-styles and we worked things out as sorority sisters do. We had a meeting. Frustrated, disappointed and a little upset with each other, up to the attic we went where we couldn’t be overheard arguing. Naturally, Awesomez didn't want to attend the meeting and  arrived last pushed the door open with her glass of wine and announced, “OK we have quorum” sending June and me into a peel of giggles that made me feel seventeen again.

    “Oh Gogs you still roll me!” June declared wiping her tears. We prepared a weekly schedule and set the tone for the trip. The troops would do chores in the morning, something fun, and communal dinners where the adults would get loopy from all the glorious wines June provided. There wasn’t just one Pinot; there were a plethora of Pinots and Chiantis and Cabs.

(Tom, Amy, Henry, Nick, Awesomez - in the corner, Carly, June and Lindsey)

    June, a problem solver and world-class diplomat, went out with the girls on a run to town while the rest of us worked around the farm on the chicken coop. As a surprise June/Spoon bought five, count them five air mattresses with air pumps, pillows and matching linens completely transforming the attic into a kind of beautiful barracks – fit for Private Benjamin. Who says money can’t buy happiness?  Or at least a little peace and quiet.

 

June 14th Rain Rain - Go Away

(Flag day)

    My vision of the day was of painting the porch and working on securing my blueberries from my ravenous  Oberhasli’s. Then Lisa called and said she needed help driving a bunch of bikini clad girls and my son to the water park, I figured I should oblige after all ,she does so much for me.

    As luck would have it, after twenty-four days of unrelenting, front page sunshine it was in fact, a dreary, cloudy day in Bellingham. I arrived at the Donaldsons in timely fashion, cleaned out my car of hay debris so as not to embarrass Quinn, although truly anything could embarrass Quinn at any moment. This was just one less item to worry about.

    We met the teens and their parents at The Food Pavillion parking lot. I got out of the van to get some much needed cat food for my cranky cats while the gaggle of girls decided who would ride in which car. I knew I'd get Lauren, because Quinn would be terminally embarrassed for anyone else to ride with them other than a trusted ally like Lauren - who has her own embarrassing little sister, Jordan. I  was shocked when Quinn came over in the middle of the frey and slipped her arms around me and said "Thanks for doing this for me, I really appreciate it. I know you had other things going on." Now I'm sure Lisa must have made her do it, but heck - she did it.

    Despite the thick layer of clouds, the sun emerged and the day turned out to be spectacular just as Chris had recklessly guaranteed all the kids.

(Chris - covers himself with sunscreen before attending to the children - he subscribes to the airline mask philosophy)

(Quinn and Lauren)

(Quinn, Lauren, Henry - laugh and laugh)

(Phoebe - our Little Miss Sunshine)

(Chris lounging with his birthday girl ribbon)

(Lauren, Henry and Phoebe)

It was a bittersweet afternoon though as this will be one of the last events Lauren will attend on a regular basis anyway. She is moving with her family to Eugene because of her father’s work, a continuous reminder that these are hard times. Hopefully, difficult choices will turn into wonderful opportunities as the clouds lift and the sun begins to shine for all of us.

 

May 28th The Great Escape

 

(Emmett Dean and The Rat-Bat-Cat-Dog)

      Toby who was going to spend nine days in Bellingham is still somewhere out in the Pacific North West packing, un-packing or doing Heaven knows what, while Dean remains with me. Together, Dean and I picked up Tom at the airport this afternoon. He arrived just in time for Henry’s track meet; well truthfully, there was enough time to stop for a cup of coffee on the way.

    The sun was shining so brightly; I had to dig out my long-forgotten sunglasses from underneath the passenger seat of the car. A smiling Henry proudly ran and threw the shot put basking in his father’s undivided attention.
(Tom concentrating on his youngest boy)

(Quinn bringing home the relay)

(Tom and Phoebe share a bag of Fritos™)

(Henry sees Daddy in the stands)

    When we got home, Henry was dying to show Tom everything at once. The tree he liked to climb and how high he could climb it, his yo-yo and all the tricks he’s been practicing, the spears he made and how he can make them whiz through the air. He wanted to show the Daddy his burn, his broken glasses and Apache. So led around by the arm Tom ooohed and ahhed at all his son had to offer. Then we walked the perimeter examining the new fence.

    “This is where Irish could get out, but we’ve put things like that old rusted out manure spreader in front of it to dissuade him. So what do you think?” I asked in a similar tone to Henry’s, seeking approval.

    “I like how you’ve marked all the dogs as ours.” He answered with a smile in his eyes. I looked down and realized there were glops and smudges of white paint on each of the dogs.

    “Daddy! Look! Look at Irish and Miracle!” Henry called. Tom turned his head just in time to see Miracle snuggling her nose up to Irish and Irish returning the gesture.

    “Are they new best friends?” Tom said surprised.

    “Since, Miracle has spent time in the front yard they’ve gotten to know each other better. Henry open the gate, I think we can safely let Irish out now.” I called back.

(Miracle checks out Irish's toes)
(Alert to trouble- my guardians)

(porch needing more black paint - Irish with Miracle hanging)

    “OK!” He yelled as he released the hound and Irish came barreling out of his front-porch prison. Strangely similar in size he and Miracle instantly began to romp. She ran from him and he obliged her with a merry chase. Then she turned around, ears pinned back head down she charged him. He took flight and they started going round and round a pine tree. Irish had the distinct advantage with his lean wiry body. He could wrap himself against the tree completely confounding Miracle. The real proof of the pudding was when she let him sniff her feet. Her tail swished a couple of times, but she allowed him to inspect her arsenal.

    It was then Irish saw us standing over in the clearing and loped toward us. His easy, goofy demeanor usually gives people the mistaken impression he’s not too bright. On the contrary, his mind is always working; he just doesn’t necessarily want to do what you want him to do. He walked up toward the vulnerable fence section circumvented the manure spreader and was over the weakened section in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.

    “No!!!” I cried panic stricken my worst fear coming true. “If a motorcycle comes by he could run to the road from that side of the fence.

    “I hear a motorcycle coming.” Tom stated ominously. Due to the echo in the valley you can hear them coming from miles and miles away but if we heard it, so did Irish to be sure. Dean scurried under the fence while Henry went for a hotdog to lure Irish because once out Irish generally likes to play a nice game of chase the big dog.

    “I got him Denise! I got him! I got the big boy!” Dean called who was now invisible in the dense forest growth.

    “Hold onto him Dean with your whole body. Don’t just hold his collar he can slip out of it. Sit down and put your arms around his stomach.” I warned as Henry returned hot dog in hand. “Henry slide under here and go help Dean the motorcycle is getting closer. If Irish gets loose it could be a disaster.” Henry slithered under the fence and pushed the tall brush aside.

    “Dean where are you?” Henry hollered.

    “Right over here! Don’t worry. I got ‘em,” Dean called back.

    “Dean if he gets loose he could die. I’m coming to help you,” Henry explained.

    “I don’t need help.”

    “Dean!” I screamed.

    “OK” Dean complied reluctantly.

    I couldn’t believe I was entrusting the life of that dog and possibly the life of the motorcyclist to those boys. I grabbed the wire fence and pushed it up as far as I could and crawled under it. I didn’t think I could reach them in time, but if they lost hold of Irish I could possibly intercept him. I knew my father’s Notre Dame football talent ran in my genes somewhere and I’d need it if I was going to tackle Irish.
The motorcycle was close now. “Hold on boys! Here comes the motorcycle, Henry feed him the hotdog to distract him.” I called as I tromped through the brush trying to position myself.

    The boys valiantly held the struggling dog and without incident, the motorcyclist whizzed by unaware of how much danger he’d been in. I grabbed Irish by the collar and with Dean leading us through the towering grass we all made our way to the road. We heard a strange sound and looked behind us. About thirty feet away we could see the tops of the six -foot grass moving.

    “What is that?” Dean asked suspiciously.

    “Lu? Is that you?” I called.

    “Rooooooooooo!!” Luther answered as the waving grass began to move faster.

    “Oh Luuuu you can do it!” Henry encouraged as a howling, tail-wagging Luther emerged into view.

    “Let’s go see Daddy,” Henry urged.

May 13th Horsing Around

 

  (Grumpy anti-photo Quinn on her birthday with Henry and Lauren)
(Phoebe beating up Henry)

(Henry, Phoebe and lovely little Lauren)


    Lisa had come home with me for our new work exchange program. I cleaned her carpets last week on Quinn’s birthday and today she is mopping my kitchen and putting in a few rows of seeds in the garden. In the process we get to discuss our children, catch up on our friends and commiserate on the river of life that is laundry.

    We knocked off about 2:00 P.M. as the floor was clean, Luther’s toenails were clipped, the tomatoes, artichokes and carrots were in the ground and we’d all but decided Awesomez should move to Bellingham whether she thought it was a good idea or not. Plus we had to get to the kids’ middle school track meet.

    Lisa spearheaded the hot beverage acquisition while I collected Phoebe and found seats at Civic Field. Spring had disappeared behind a cloud. Suddenly, the sunny stadium was cold and damp, misty rain blew sideways on an Arctic wind turning my sleek flat-ironed hair into a Brillo™ pad. Phoebe and I must have looked like orphaned seal pups huddled together bracing ourselves against the unexpected cold. Walking in with a sleeping bag she’d had in her car Lisa started laughing when she saw us. “I guess you’re ready for this.” She chuckled unfurling the bundle. Welcome warmth enveloped us. Phoebe positioned herself in the middle her white translucent skin had a bluish quality in the cold. I thought she could easily pass as a vampire.

(Henry doing the softball throw)

    “Could you be any whiter?” I demanded.

    “Yes actually. This is me after a week in Cancun.” She giggled with a mischievous smile. We scanned the field for Henry and Quinn. Henry as easy to spot, all you have to do was look down for the orange socks.  Quinn wasn’t much harder, you just let your eyes drift over the top of the crowd and she’s usually the tallest one like her father. Henry was warming up for some of his field events. He was doing shot put and the softball throw as well as hurdles and the 4-man relay. Quinn had opted not to do the hurdles this year, but was doing the 400 and the relay.

    Just as Chris took his seat we saw Henry taking his lane for the hurdles. I thought he’d be pretty good because of his agility. I was shocked at Henry’s technique. “He looks like a bunny!” I said to Phoebe. “Have you ever seen anyone go over like that?”

    “No he looks weird. What’s he doing?’ Phoebe asked. “He touches his feet as he goes over. He’s fast, but look he touches his toes!” And he did. He seemed to be gliding through the air effortlessly. He didn’t really take off on one foot and travel forward as you would expect but went straight up like a bunny.

    “C’mon Henny he’s going to get you come on, come on, push, push, push!” Lisa shrieked like she was at a roller derby rink. He came in second.

    Quinn graced us with her presence while she changed into her cleats. As she laced up she asked with disdain, “Did you see how Henry hurdles? He hops like a bunny.”

    “That’s what we thought.” Phoebe exclaimed.

(Henry takes a break and visits us in the stands)

    “The coach thinks Henry’s really fast. He could win, but he has to change how he hurdles or they won’t let him race.” Quinn said with great concern.

    “Well it is only his first race.” Lisa chimed in.

    “I’m just saying in high school they won’t let him race if he hurdles like that.” High school he’s in sixth grade in his first race. Middle school girls, whatever.

    After informing us of Henry’s dire future in track, Quinn took the starting line. Watching her brought back memories of her first meet. I think she was in kindergarten or maybe it was in first grade. Tall for her age even then, but such a little Quinnderella. She’d come in dead and I mean dead last. Her long gangly coltish legs just didn’t move with much urgency. She was the kind of child who said excuse me when she played basketball. After the race she’d told Lisa “I felt like everyone else had a horse and I was on a pony.” Now she was running the 400 and looking confident and composed. As she took off out of the start she made up the stagger with ease. She was in the lead from the first turn and extended it for the rest of the race. It gets you out of your seat to see her pass EVERYONE like that. You think she can't keep it up- until she does! Wow! Our little Secretariat learned how to move those legs. Nearing the finish line Henry started running along side her on the grassy field next to the track cheering her on. Tears came to my eyes as she loped easily over the finish line. Henry ran over to hug and congratulate her, but she pushed him away barely able to stand up straight completely spent.

(Henry on the grass willing Quinn on as she nears the finish line )

    “She leaves it all on the field.” Lisa observed proudly.

    The shot put was hard to see as it was on the other side of the stadium and there was a shed in the way. Henry did OK in the softball throw, but not great. Not doing well at the softball throw? I’m sure this is somehow my genetic fault. Next, was the relay. One of Henry’s teammates was missing so they had to get a substitute and they were understandably nervous about the hand-off. Henry did the second leg of the race and took off like a bat out of hell coming from behind and passing the rest of the runners. “My God, he runs just like Dad. It’s Dad as an eleven-year-old Denise.” Lisa exclaimed. And she was right he did, he had the same movements, intensity and stride. In a flash, like a tape recorder I could hear my mother explaining, “Look he’s got a lot of flaws but we had a lot of laughs and he’s got good genes.”
Henry’s team had trouble with the hand-off and came in third. He took first in the shot put but didn’t come close in the softball throw.

    Chris went back to work, Lisa hurried off to a Humane Society meeting so I was in charge of signing the kids out and getting them home.

(going home 11-year-old Henry, 8-year-old Phoebe and now the newly13-year-old amazon Quinn)

On our way to the car Quinn said "Henry you know you've really got to change your hurdle."

    "Why?"

    "Because you could win, you're really fast." Quinn stated.

    "No. I couldn't win, the other kid beat me by a couple of seconds."

    "Seriously Henry you're fast. You'll make up a lot of time changing your form."

    "I don't think I can" Henry admitted.

    "You can Henry. I know you can and you'll win." Quinn encouraged.

    "You really think so."

    "I really do. You're good."

    "Thanks Quinn. You were really amazing."

    "Whatever, can we go?" Phoebe whined as they all  hopped in the car.

May 10th Are You My Mama?

(leader of the band)     

    At 5:30 A.M.I heard a deafening racket outside my window. It was as if some gang of marauding teenagers had pulled up and cranked their stereo. It was the crooning of every flipping ding-dang songbird in the forest greeting the dawn. I pried my eyes open realizing sleep would not return with battle of the bands outside my window. I perked up as I remembered Alexis’ Mother’s Day gift. The bag of Deadman’s Reach was downstairs waiting to be ground into an aromatic elixir sure to revive me. As I poured my first medicinal cup Henry bestowed on me a compass drawing he did in school and then I received a pastel pink and yellow heart on printer paper only slightly crumpled on one side like it had been stuffed in a sixth-grade's notebook. I gazed upon the drawing "Happy Mother's Day, I love you" was scrolled in tidy penmanship. It was full of emotion and care save the crumpled part. But then out came the piece de resistance a card with a fold and a saying. It wasn’t full of scribbles or too much erasing. It didn't have creases, rips or tears. I welled up. He’d listened. My son, a husband in training.

(My card- lettering learned from Miss Elberfeld (4th grade) - yellow is my favorite color)

(sweet)

    Dressed and ready for the day I met Alexis outside. He’d already fired up the tractor and true to his word was scraping the mat of weeds off with the sharp edge of the bucket. It was a bright sunshiny day and now that the fence was finished my four-legged lawnmowers, the goats, sheep and Miracle were out chomping the lawn. This is the way I dreamed it would be:  goats meandering by like they stepped out of “Heidi” taking nibbles of pine while the sheep drifted by the purple Agapanthus like strange clouds, the geese chatted by the barn while Miracle kept watchful eye on everyone as I sipped my coffee.

(Alexis clearing the land)

    After Alexis went off to work, my sister called and said she, Chris and the kids were going to head out for the afternoon. All the better to garden I thought.

    Before Team Donaldson arrived, Henry and I started to work. “Mama. I just want to let you know, I almost put you were more special than Awesomez on the card, but I erased it. I just couldn’t say it. I mean I love you and you’re my Mama, but well you understand, she is Awesomez.” Henry explained tap dancing as fast as he could.

    “I understand, I love her too.” I assured him."Now hush up and pull the Rhododendron the whole plant is poisonous to the goats."

    I’d let the cows out of the pasture again. This time I felt confident because we’d installed two gates. One gate blocks the barn animals from going into the road and the other gate keeps them from going down toward the pond. This in turn will keep Abe, Anna and Andy down munching on grass in what was our old cornfield. Or so I thought, until I looked up and saw Andy giving me the eye as we worked in the garden and before I knew it he'd found the one weak spot in the fence and charged through it. He wasn’t exactly a raging bull, but he got the job done. Suddenly Abe and Anna were in hot pursuit. Miracle was stunned at the sight of these new ruminants. I worried she might be like Quinn who does not like to be in the company of someone older and taller than her. “A person can be older or taller, but not both. Actually, I like to be older and taller if possible,” Quinn says whenever anyone will listen. If Miracle was like Quinn we might have a barnyard brawl. Would she attack or would the cows chase the goats like true “bullies”? I stood ready to react, but it was as calm as a nativity.

(Deciding the best place to be is on the other side of any fence)

(mowing my lawn)

(everybody eats)

(happy cows)

    We set back to work hoeing and taking tractor loads of debris away. We were hard at work when the Donaldsons pulled up. After some quick hugs and hellos we decided to break for lunch. In the kitchen Quinn asked “So what did Henry give you for Mother’s Day?”

    “He cleaned my room.” I said proudly.

    “Girl clean? Or boy clean?” Phoebe inquired.

    “Girl clean.” I assured her. “He vacuumed, put stuff away and I got a card too, plus a neck warmer-thingy.”

    “Girl clean? That’s good Henry.” Phoebe praised.

(Phoebe and Henry climb trees for entertainment)

(monkey-boy)

(Lunch is served in the tree as requested)

(Miracle with her fly mask on relaxing)

(working girls)

    After sandwiches we jumped back on the project. Phoebe and I manned the tractor bringing in loads from the compost pile.

    “This is some goooood shit.” I exclaimed as I savored the aroma, digging out a nice big load.

    “Really” she confirmed as we examined the sample teeming with earthworms.Lisa and Chris were hard at work mixing up the amendments and leveling the ground while Henry insisted on throwing knives at a tree and Quinn read a book.

    “Do we have to keep the garden gate closed all the time?” Lisa yelled over the tractor.

    “Actually yes, it seems the sheep like blueberries.” I yelled back.

    “Hey! Stop!” Lisa giggled. I turned back to see what she was talking about. “It’s nothing," she waved, "I just never had a sheep nibble my ankle before.” Apache was giving her kisses.

    Phoebe, Lisa, Chris and I got the garden to a point where we were ready to put in rows when we noticed there were no bells.

    “No bells that can only mean one thing.” I said wondering how they could have gotten out. “Do you think they knocked down the fence?” I asked. “I mean I know that’s not what you’d expect from a cow, but how else?” I asked half to myself as we began to walk the fence line with Anna who was also wondering where those good for nothing steers went off to leaving her behind.

    “I hear them.” I said listening to the faint clinking of cowbells. Turning my head toward the sound. I saw them in my only neighbor’s yard they’d hopped the fence.

    “Who wants a cookie?” Lisa yelled in a high-pitched voice. "Who wants a cookie?" She repeated. In only a couple of times, the boys were running not walking back, and over the fence they went.

    “It surprises me every time how nimble they are.” I reflected.  “But you know “ I said imitating my father, “there was that one f----- who went over the moon.” Lisa laughed. It was still funny.

    We came back to find Quinn in the garden. She’d finished her book and was wondering if they could still make it to the bookstore tonight. As she stood around not helping she began standing on one of the garden stakes. Balancing on one foot she said, “If this was a little wider this would be like Survivor.” 

    “Hey let me try.” Chris said as he climbed up on the stick. “One-one-thousand-two-one-thousand. . .” the girls chanted in unison until Chris dramatically fell off.

(Chris doesn't survive)

    “You two are the slowest counters I’ve ever heard.” He complained.

    “I did it longer.” Quinn said all smiles.

    “Let me try.” Phoebe insisted and then naturally, Lisa and I had to have a turn. We were now counting and competing for the best time.

    “This is fun.” Phoebe laughed, “Farm fun.”

    “Hey Quinn, you could do this at your birthday party.” Lisa laughed. "You young'ens would have a lot of fun." she hillbillied.

    “Great. My friends will say, gosh that party was fun. Quinn had us stand on a stick. No. They wouldn’t get it, but just so you know I think I've won with the best time.”

    “No. I did.” I corrected.

    “No. I did.” She said incorrectly. Being younger, I let her believe she was right poor thing, but as the winner I knew. I knew I had the better time she just couldn’t handle it.

    With all our falderal we got the stakes up and the string, but it was time to call it quits. Henry and Phoebe wanted one last knife throwing demonstration over by their tree. Most of us went to watch, but Quinn disappeared until she came out the front door. “Denise? Who’s this?” Quinn asked holding up a gosling. I gasped.

    “I don’t know! We’ve never met!” I was stunned. “Quinn where did you get that?” I asked completely confused. That was not one of Clara’s it was yellow and downy. I looked at it again. Its bill was black just like it’s feet. Clearly this was a Canada gosling. 

(in search of a Mother)

    “I found it walking across the lawn. I heard it peep and looked up and there it was, so I picked it up before the dogs saw it. Then Bruno took off like a shot for the fence down by the pasture. Maybe there are more.” So Quinn holding on to her charge showed us where Bruno had gone and we formed a search party. Looking and listening for peeping. I went and got Mabel to see if her honks would flesh anyone out of the tall grass. Just as we were all about to give up, Quinn found another one in a most remote area. We looked for the mother. The two goslings had been quite a distance away, and no one could locate a possible nest. I’d seen Canada geese in the pasture, but not hanging around the creek nor did I have any idea where the nest could be.

    “This is so weird, they need to find a mother on Mother’s Day.” Henry remarked. “Hey Quinn does this make them your babies? You’re the goose girl.” Quinn smiled wryly as she wiped goose poop out of the nest in her sweatshirt.

(twice the fun on Mother's Day)

    “It’s OK they’re just babies.” She replied cheerfully as we went to the barn and decided to try Mabel with the goslings.

    “She sat on her eggs for a good long time, maybe she’ll think they’d hatched while she was out. “ I suggested.

    “That’s some while you were out.” Phoebe laughed. Lisa took the goslings and rubbed her scent on them while she wasn’t looking. Mabel wanted nothing to do with them, so we tried Ruthie. She wouldn’t take them under her wing either. Next, we tried Clara, the proven mother, but she was too consumed with worry over her goslings that she didn’t relax.

    So we tried another tactic. We got Quackmire involved, after all, he’d been an excellent guardian to Clara’s hatch. Then we tried Ruthie again. No good, she just acted like she wanted to get away from Quackie. So we brought Mabel back in. Perhaps they’d be OK if the two of them were in there like Lloyd and Clara. I put the incubation light a safe distance away from the straw. We didn’t really need the adults to care for them as long as they protected them from any nocturnal predators like barn rats.

(Foster Family)

    “What do you want to name them?” Henry asked about 43 times.

    “I don’t know, some kind of outcast name like the elf who wants to be a dentist. What was his name?” Quinn mused.

    “I don’t remember.” Henry answered. “How about Romulus and Remus? Or Oenone, the wood-nymph?”

    “Uhhh no.” Quinn responded authoritatively.

    “Look we can’t keep them. They’re migratory birds they need to learn to fly.” Lisa said.

    “They do? Won’t they just know?” Quinn was confused.

    “Didn’t you watch ‘Fly Away Home about 35 times?” Lisa asked incredulously

    “Henry, the guy who shot ‘Fly Away Home’ Caleb, is the dad of Zooey Deschanel the girl in ‘Yes Man’. Anyway, I think the goslings are ok for the night. I’ll keep checking on them, but in the morning I’m calling the Wildlife Refuge.” I announced as we shut the barn door.

    “Mama, you relax, I’ll make dinner.” Henry said losing interest in the idea before he got to the kitchen. The phone rang as I got out the steamer. It was Awesomez’ daughter, little Lindsey, “Rizzo,I want to make my mom dinner, but I don’t know what to make. I need help.” she bleated.

    “Whatdya got?” I said pulling out my ingredients.

  (Henry and his buddy, Irish, have forgotten about making dinner)

April 22nd The Odyssey

     (the San Juan Islands out the window)

(the Cascades)

   An eyelash shy of food stamps these days it was odd to fly the upgrade Lisa got us all at the airport, but non-fat latte in hand I endured the irony of first class. We couldn’t get three seats so Lisa and Henry were together doing a crossword and discussing “Ninety Minutes in Heaven” while I was alone with my thoughts about the events ahead. My trip was painfully scheduled in some ways not allowing for coffee with a friend or a drive to the beach. I was nervous as I looked out the window to the endless sun-soaked sea of swimming pools upon our descent. I hadn’t been back home in two full years.

(Dean at Burbank Airport - helping Henry with his bag)

    Toby and Dean picked us at the airport like no time had passed. Having them back in Los Angeles added to the emotion. The boys chatted in the backseat as we got Lisa’s rental car and all stopped at 7-11 for sodas before Toby and I headed off to Nordstrom Rack while Lisa drove off to Loehman’s (my mom’s very favorite store) and a pedicure.

    As Toby maneuvered the freeway I drank in the warm sunshine. After two years of angst always wondering where to go for things like getting my ring fixed or what restaurant is good it was strangely comforting to know just know where everything is. Every block, every parking space was filled with a lifetime of memories that came flooding back.

Shopping was a bust; although Toby narrowed what I was looking for so I might be able to find an acceptable outfit more easily on my second try. She determined after looking at my bruises, which were now turning an olive green that short sleeves were definitely out of the question.

    Henry, Tom and I reunited at the reported busiest Starbucks in the world located on the corner of Topanga Canyon and Ventura Blvd. We hugged Toby and Dean good-bye for now and moved on to the next leg of our journey.

    Our friends Kathy and Dan, the grandparents of two of my former students Trevor and Ashley offered to take us to dinner. To say Trev and Ashley are simply former students is to say the Great Barrier Reef is just a big bunch of rocks. Trevor and “Ashweena” were part of our family. They went to Yellowstone and Alaska with us. Henry still wears Trevor’s hand-me-downs and receives his castoff Christmas presents. All the kids including Quinn and Phoebe have spent the night together, gone to the beach, camp, had Christmases, birthdays, the zoo, done homework and have even gone to several funerals together. In fact, Trevor, Ashley, Quinn, Henry and Phoebe were together the reason I needed a van in the first place. I hauled the five of them here and there across the valley shleping them to baseball, dance, gymnastics and back and forth from sleepovers. 

(family owned for 47 years)

    We all met up for Mexican food as the supply in Bellingham is scarce. Walking in, I could feel the memories wrap around me like a blanket. I’d been going there with my family since I was eight years old and have sat in probably every booth. There’s the one we went to when my mother got her masters and then the one when we discovered she had cancer, the one I sat in when I turned twenty one and ordered my first margarita, the one where we celebrated my grandfather’s eightieth and the one where we consoled ourselves in after he died, the one we went to when I visited from Minnesota, the one when Lisa had Quinn, The one when my mother died, the one when Henry was afraid of policemen, the ones when we were fixing up the house and I was too tired to cook, the one when Tom decided he wouldn’t leave me for Kim Basinger even though she was in the next booth, the one where we decided to move to Washington. It was the perfect place to be.

(Ashley "Ashweena" )

 (Trevor - "Trevie-Trev-Trev" T-DAWG, my personal - NIGHTMARE)

 

(Henry and Trevor - somethings don't change)

(Ashley watching the boys)

(Our man Dan)
    After an evening of drinks, laughter and catching up, Tom, Henry and I headed to Ventura where Tom is living. There is only one functional bedroom in the house so to Henry’s delight he was relegated to the authentic 1940’s teardrop trailer Tom built piece by piece. The tear-drop has often been our extra bedroom at the Donaldson’s on Christmas or New Year’s Eve. Snug as a bug in a rug Henry was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

(A sleeping Henry still inside the  teardrop the next morning)

April 6th Family Affair

(Alexis' charge)

    After 24 hours of driving in three days, we slept like the dead, surrounded by our menagerie. I woke up and started the coffee. Tom was close behind followed by Henry. Anxious to see the babies we chatted excitedly about going out to the barn, when suddenly Alexis appeared in the kitchen with a gosling wrapped in a towel.It seems the poor thing had gotten lodged between the nest and the wall.

    “I’m not sure how long she was there before I got her out. She couldn’t hold her head up. It would just flop over and she wasn’t strong enough to move so I brought her in and we’ve been together ever since. I’ve been feeding her colostrum with an eyedropper. It’s after all a cure all for almost everything. I named her Anne because she’s a survivor like Anne Frank.” Alexis explained.

    My first thought was a slight twinge of jealousy. Alexis was caring for the baby and I wasn’t. I should have been here. In a flash my feelings turned to overwhelming gratitude. I was so fortunate he’d been here to save the little one and lucky he’d taken the initiative to care for the hatchling. I wondered about the name. Anne Frank didn’t really survive did she? And I’m not sure, but think it’s a boy. The bill was sort of dark so it was ambiguous. Finally, I wasn’t sure feeding colostrum was a good idea, as birds didn’t produce it, only mammals.

    “Well, my sister and the girls are coming out today to see the goslings so she can take a look at the little fella.” I said more to myself than anyone.

    After taking a good look at Alexis’ new charge. We bolted outside to see our babies’ babies. It was so exciting to see Lloyd and Clara out in the yard using the crevice from the tractor as a tiny swimming hole for their brood. Lloyd came up and greeted us while Clara sat demurely with her peeps as they peep, peep, peeped. I didn’t like the idea of the tractor track water possibly from the compost as their bath so we moved the family over closer to the barn.
(meeting the family)

(Mama and babies)

    Sitting in the sun sipping coffee as Henry lay on the ground as close as he could to the goslings we were riveted by the new family. The excitement at seeing the babies with Lloyd and Clara is almost indescribable. It was amazing what a good mother and father Lloyd and Clara were protecting and counting their babies completely by instinct as they were here on their second day of life without ever being with a parent. Just then, Lisa and the girls rolled up.

    The doors opened and the girls raced across the driveway shrieking as everyone met the new babies. And once again Alexis appeared cradling his towel wrapped charge. I explained to Lisa what was going on ending with “…Anne Frank, because she was a survivor.”

(farm camo-Romaine lettuce)

(About to take a dip)

(Clara and her babies after a swim)

(struggle for snuggle)

(Alexis and Lisa chat about bird health)

    “But uhh, she didn’t ultimately make it.” Lisa said trying to be gentle. We were on the same page. “And I don’t know about the colostrum.” She worried. “It might be a negative in a bird.”

    “It looks like a boy.” Phoebe insisted and we all agreed. “There are two boys and three girls. See look at their bills. With Cotton Patch you can tell right away.” Farm-girl Phoebe explained.

    “Maybe you could call him Frank?” Lisa suggested.

    Suddenly, as we we’re standing in the warm sun watching the new family eat Vivian came creeping out of the barn. Turning I saw she had an egg in her mouth! She came running out and scurried off into some tall grass where she put the egg down and sat near it.

(Vivian carries the egg)

    “Alexis! Remember that egg I found on the lawn the other day? Maybe it wasn’t new. Maybe Vivian put it there.” I surmised just as she went into the barn and got another egg laying it in another location.

    “She’s being gentle. Does she want to eat it? Or hatch it?” Quinn asked amongst the laughter. The day was filled with sunshine and rebirth. Vivian and her antics seemed to add to the carnival atmosphere. Anything seemed possible even a rottweiler hatching an egg. Although we all agreed Luther was better suited.

(Vivian with "her" egg)

    I suspected however, she was not acting with maternal intent rather I thought she was more Templeton the rat. Especially, once we confirmed these were Clara’s abandoned eggs. The ones she stopped sitting on when the others were hatched. It didn’t take long to verify this when one of the eggs cracked open and a smell beyond compare wafted through the air amid screams of disgust. Vivian tried to roll in it while Tom gathered the rotten goose eggs and disposed of them.

    With an egg stealer on the loose, and three crazy ganders we decided to enclose Lloyd and his family in the vegetable garden where they would be safe. I worried about the other ganders they were acting wild. We decided they needed to be incarcerated. So I picked up Quackmire to put him in the flower garden and he bit me. Not a love bite, a hard bite on my tricep. The pain took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes partially because it was excruciating and partially because he’d hurt my feelings. Quackmire bit me? Really? Really? Are you kidding’ me?

(Quackmire's handy work)

    “What are we going to do Mama? Are we going to get rid of Quackmire too?” Henry asked.

    “I don’t know. My mother always said: When you don’t know what to do, don’t do anything. Right now, the only thing I can promise is we’re keeping Lloyd and Clara. I’m not promising anything else. We only have one healthy boy gosling at the moment so I don’t know if I can even sell a breeding pair yet. We have to see if any of Mabel’s eggs hatch.”
(Tom drills the ends of the eggs)

(Henry blows the yolk)

(Tom blows his egg)

    Once Quackmire, Cleveland and Alfred were enclosed we went inside to blow the unfertilized goose eggs for Easter. Tom got his drill while Henry and Alexis with Phoebe’s help decided to use the high falutin’ Veeta-Vita-Vegi-Mix Tom won and create a lettuce smoothie for the little guy, “Frank?” They didn’t make it too thick or too thin, but just right so the little boy could gain some strength and go back out with his brother and sisters. He was definitely improving.

(Henry pours Romaine Smoothie, while Phoebe and Alexis care for the gosling)

(Happy Phoebe)

(Eyedropper feeding session)

    During the eyedropper feeding session in between prying the gosling’s bill open Henry told Alexis the story of John Colter and before long the struggling little boy was being called Colt while his healthy brother had been named Clyde for Bonnie and Clyde.

(Clara with a little girl - dark bill- and healthy boy - Clyde with the lighter bill on right)

     That didn't end well either I thought as I worried about all this naming. I know I don’t want to become the crazy goose lady of Mosquito Lake Road some of them are definitely leaving.

March 29th Pig Tales

    (Arriving at Cascade Meadows Farm)

     “Pigs!” Screamed Quinn, Henry and Phoebe at a pitch only children can reach. The pigs in the field looked up. “Piggies!” Quinn screamed again, and suddenly adorable black pigs were running toward us their floppy ears bouncing up and down. The black pigs against the green carpet of grass were quite a sight. We were all instantly enthralled. I pulled over and parked. The Lisas were certain this wasn’t the right house, but I wasn’t. I walked up to the door and knocked. A Reubenesque woman came to the door.

    “I’m looking for Cascade Meadows?” I said as she peeked out the well-worn farmhouse door.

    “Next door.” She said and pulled her head back in out of the freezing rain. I got the told-you-so look from the Lisas. Drat. The Lisas were right again. They went back to move the car while the kids ran giggling and skipping over as I walked the distance to the pale green house.

(Cascade Meadows Farm)

    Soon Kirk was outside dressed for the weather. “If you guys were real farmers, you’d have boots on.” He laughed. I had boots in the car I thought silently but since no one else did I remained quiet. I was not the kid in the class who raised their hand and reminded the teacher no homework had been assigned.
Kirk picked up a 50lb. bag of grain and began calling “Here little piggies! Here little piggies!” as he walked out into a field. Big pigs, little pigs and pigs with enormous teats came from all directions to snack on the grain.

(Kirk opening the grain with both Mamas)

(Standing in the freezing rain: Lisa, Quinn, Phoebe/Henry & L. Awesomez)

(Henry, Me, the pigs and the Spotted Sussex in the hail)
 
    “Ahhhhs” came from everyone as the pigs gathered in the field around Kirk.
“Look Mama! We have that grain for the cows. We already have the kind of food they like.” Henry said, starting his sales campaign.

    “They’re certainly not as big as the pigs at the fair.” My sister said approvingly. “And so engaging.”

(piglet and Mama)

    “No.” Kirk said. “And some of these are four-years-old, so you know they are full grown.”

     “Can you tell which are boys or girls when they’re young?” Quinn asked.

    “Sure, it’s easy.” Kirk said squatting down to teach Quinn how to sex a piglet. Attentive, she was soon sexing all the pigs in effort to narrow down which ones we should take home with us. It seems this was her part in the multi-tiered campaign. Quinn who had expressed some concern about me taking on another animal had folded like a tent.

(Farm girl Quinn learning how to sex a pig from Kirk)

    Kirk was very informative about his pigs. We discussed needing a health certificate to cross state lines and the sensibility of eating your own pig. We talked about the varying hair length their cold tolerance and breed standards.

    “I just don’t think I could butcher my pig.” I said, although I am getting closer to understanding that if people don’t eat these breeds they will become extinct.

    “Buying pork at the market is the same as plunging a knife into the side of this pig.” He said with hand gestures and drama. “I can kill my best friend on the farm. Sure I shed a tear while I’m doing it, but I know the animal had a completely happy life and until the moment I put a bullet in it’s head it has lived a good day. There is no trauma, no fear. It’s just been doing piggy things like eating and being with family until the end. I feel honored to eat it and have it become a part of me.” I glanced over at Awesomez. I could see by the look on her face, this logic was not sitting well with her. The kids while listening to this were distracted to a degree happily scratching pigs right and left. Smiles never leaving their faces they cooed to their new friends.
(Quinn giving a good scratch)

    “Now, I’ve heard horror stories about pigs attacking dogs and kids, but I know you have a young daughter. Do you worry?” I asked thinking of Alfred the Awful and Maryruth’s stern warnings regarding swine purchases.

    “I really don’t. Certainly you want to handle any animal with respect, but these pigs don’t eat the chickens. Many breeds would kill them, but these don’t. They’re pretty gentle it’s been bred out of them. They eat whatever, but they only eat dead things. I’ve never seen any of my pigs kill anything. They forage for most of their food. Just need some shelter from the weather some grain if they’re nursing.

(Guinea Hog and Spotted Sussex)

    “They’re easy keepers.” My sister said.

    “Exactly! They’re easy keepers.” Kirk agreed readily.

    “I’m an easy keeper.” My sister said shrugging her shoulders as Kirk fell victim to my sister’s wit.

    “I’m an easy keeper too.” Kirk agreed.

    They yammered on about frequency of breeding seasons as I meandered over to where Henry was petting Abbey. She’d rolled over on her side so he could really pet her. She was engorged her teats enormous. I wondered if he was just feeling her up in some prepubescent way. As I got closer I could see he was shaking her while singing, “My milkshake brings all the hogs to the yard…” I walked on. Boys.

(Henry does a milk shake on Abbey)

(Henry gives a pig hug)

    “Denise did you hear what Henry is singing?” Quinn demanded. I nodded as I turned toward Lisa. She stood silently in what was alternating between frozen rain and hail doing her best drown rat impression. Cheerily enduring the muddy farm. Truly a good sport I thought as I don’t think there is a drop of farm girl in her. It was more than obvious she didn’t want to cuddle the wet hairy pigs, but she earned my eternal devotion when she succumbed to the kids begging and pleading. The mother of three couldn’t say no. She walked over slowly, as I watched giggling to myself knowing a week ago Lisa, now Awesomez, never thought she’d be standing in mud on a pig farm petting a Guinea Hog, rare or not. I am convinced this visit marks more than one experience as a first. Dare I say she liked them all? Her beaming smile seemed to indicate she was having a good time despite her hesitancy.

(Lisa aka L. Awesomez, Phoebe, Quinn and Henry with Abbey the Guinea Hog)
(Lisa making the best of wet pig hair)

(Nubian - gymnasts of the farm set)

    It was just about this time Nubians showed up to see what was going on. Each goat followed the next sneaking under a gap in the fence determined to get some of the leftover grain. The pigs, on the other hand, having licked the bowls fairly clean, decided enough was enough. Grain or no grain they were going to seek shelter. So off they trotted with the girls skipping along behind them. Henry by now had a favorite pig. A little boy he kept picking up. I know he kept picking him up because each time he did, the baby boy pig would initially squeal. Lisa said the first thing you learn about treating pigs is the essential equipment: earplugs.

(Henry cuddles the baby)

(Henry and baby boy pig)

(Henry, Quinn and Phoebe devise their evil plot to sway me)

    Soon, the baby pig was getting used to Henry and letting himself be handled and snuggled and cuddled and kissed while the mamas, Abbey and I, kept a close eye on the action.
The begging began to intensify as the three experienced lobbyists sat in the mud with the piglets. I held the line. It just wasn’t the time to get a pig I kept repeating in my mind trying to resist them and their charms. I had to concentrate on the reasons I wasn’t here to get a pig today. There are so many considerations like constructing the fence and gate, readying the barn, which I admit, is a small factor. Then there’s the money issue and the fact we’re leaving for Montana very soon, the goslings are coming and I need to figure out what to do with the pterodactyls, Cleveland and Alfred, Ruthie and Matilda so I held the line. Oh, I wavered as anyone who knows me knows. But much to everyone’s surprise I held firm, even when Lord Awesomez generously offered to sponsor the pig and its grain. I couldn’t wait to get in the car; I was ready to buckle at any moment.
(Phoebe pulls herself out of the depths of despair for the camera)

(The piglets)

    The once happy faces of the three little cherubs were now full of loss and despair as they walked the last steps to the car their hopes dashed. Henry clutched baby boy pig almost in tears. “But Mama, he’ll be gone and taken to some butcher.” Henry said in a low tone the pig snuggled up in his arms as he spoke.

    “And just before they cut his throat he’ll think of the Millers.” Quinn interjected. Great she’s a bundle of fun that one.

    “Deniiiiiise why did you bring us?” Phoebe moped. “You should have bonded more with the pigs,” she lamented.

(Sad Henry and piggy)

    “Kids, I didn’t mean to upset you I thought you’d love this, I wanted us to have fun. I told you we weren’t getting a pig today. Maybe we shouldn’t have come. I just wanted to make sure we really wanted a pig at all and if we did if this was the right breed for us. I think it definitely is and so do your mom and Lisa, but I just can’t get the pigs right now. I want to be ready.” I explained logically knowing I could snap in a moment. I had to get out of there fast. I was starting to have thoughts of going to PetCo™ to get a carrier. “Kirk said they were going to have another litter this summer and we could get an even younger pig. We’ll have everything ready and it’ll be right.” I said with conviction.

    “But he was my soul pig” Henry mourned. His soul pig? Stop. The Lisas looked at me. Three mothers knew there was only one thing to do. “Will I find another soul pig”? Henry continued moaning. We drove off and headed right for “Basketball Robins” (Baskin Robins™) where a scoop of chocolate ice cream or rainbow sherbet (if you’ve given up chocolate for Lent) in a waffle cone can still right the world once again.

   

 

    

March 28th Taking The Cake

  

  (Vivian and Bruno inside for a sleepy day)

    I love to make rules. My most quoted rule is “No eating the popcorn before the credits.” I established this rule so I wouldn’t spend half the movie popcornless. However, in recent times due to endless previews and the advent of commercials in the theatre I have had to abandon this mandate.

    Today, I had to follow the rules: Lisa’s rules. Lisa’s rule number 1. No work today. Lisa’s rule number 2. No getting out of pajamas. Lisa’s rule number 3. Happy Hour begins on Greenwich time. Lisa’s rule number 4. Henry gets to pick one of the movies.

    Once absolutely everyone had had breakfast and I had a full pot of coffee brewing we sat down to our first movie. “Twilight”. Lisa had a new found appreciation for the idea vampires could actually roam about in Washington’s weather. Next up was “Benchwarmers”. Lisa tried to protect me, but she truly didn’t make it clear what she thought we were in for. As it turns out, she found my distaste for the movie about as entertaining as the movie. I would not call “Benchwarmers” entertaining. Disgusting is more accurate, but I’m not an eleven-year-old boy or the Awesomez, who laughed far too much for my liking as the once co-founder of CABF (Co-eds Against Bodily Functions) After that we saw “Bugsy Malone” and then moved to Absolut™ Peach, lemonade and Reese Witherspoon’s debut movie “The Man In The Moon”.

(Lisa - Awesomez-, Luther and Henry warm and toasty)

(Henry's own recipe for his special Awesomez cake with Chai icing drizzle- there was a slight problem with the sunflower bundt removal, but it tasted fabulous nonetheless)

    The next morning we were up before the cows. Meeting Lisa, Quinn and Phoebe in Burlington by 5:30AM for a five and a half hour ride to the little town of Sandy, Oregon to see some rare heritage American Guinea Hog piglets at Cascade Meadows Farm. Kirk, the owner, had suggested I bring a dog carrier in case, I wanted to take a breeding pair with me. I did indeed eye one of my larger carriers before we left, but decided to leave it home. This was purely an informational trip. We were going to see another farm with heritage animals. Kirk and his partner have very similar breeds and I was extremely interested to see how they were kept. I was hoping to learn something I could incorporate. And of course, I wanted to see the piggies

    I love a road trip. You get to just be together, chat, hang out and eat. We brought along plenty of snacks for the kids and a huge portion of Henry's chocolate creation he'd made the night before. Quinn complained as she gave up chocolate for Lent, but was soothed by tastes of the Chai icing. Lisa was unhappy as she unwisely gave up all sweets.

    The seating arrangements are always worrisome, but they seemed to work out easily. Henry and Phoebe were compatible in the way back. Lisa and Quinn snuggled in the middle and I had the Awesomez in the front directing me, just in case.

(On our way down I-5)

(Henry and Phoebe in the van)

(Henry and Phoebe watching a movie on Awesomez's dvd player)

(Phoeb)

(Quinn avoiding the camera)

    “Keep an eye on her Lisa,” my sister instructed, “ She tailgates.” I was instantly annoyed. I tailgate. OK I tailgated in college. That’s just like me getting warned at every family cooking or baking event not to put the wooden spoon in the mixer – like I did when I was eight-years-old. Do you never get a fresh start?  I drove on.

    We’d almost arrived at our destination and were going through town looking for somewhere to feed and water the kids. Just as I was about to go through an intersection, "Stop!!" my sideseat driver yelled scaring me out of my wits. It seems she thought I was going too fast and was about to plow into the car ahead of us. Maybe I was going a bit faster than optimum speed, but I was not about to plow into any car. It took me several minutes to resume my previous heartrate as we drove kept looking for a place to start. I wondered if this was why she had done all the driving while she was here. Whatever.

    “Hungry kids are cranky and want to leave.” Awesomez interjected wisely. She’s right, but I think in my excitement I would have just charged forward neglecting bathroom breaks. No matter, I fell in line with the Lisas.

(Henry and Quinn clown around)

    Loretta, my navi, had a full breakdown when we got close to the farm. She had absolutely no data on this area and was close to hysterical. All we were provided was a dotted line. It was kind of like being in a video game. I took a left, as it looked like I should but the arrow turned away from the dots. We didn’t need a sense of direction what we needed was a gamer. We knew were getting close as the arrow consumed the dots on the screen. Henry provided the sound track. “Booop. Booop. Booop.” When we reached the right street we knew we’d made it to the next level.

    “Pigs!” I yelled as they came into view…
 Guinea Hog at Cascade Meadows Farm)

February 16th Sweet Sixteen

  

(Sunny Bellingham Bay)

     Driving to Lisa’s house on a bright sunny day is glorious. The air is crisp and clear, the mountains gleaming and just as they fade into the distance, Bellingham Bay comes into view veiled with towering pines along the coastline. Someone should pinch me, this is February in the Pacific Northwest? We’ve barely seen a drop of rain.

    Quinn called me on my cell to make sure I would be arriving soon. It seems, Lisa was at work and the three kids were “cleaning-up” before she got home. When I arrived what I found was Quinn slowly pushing dust, and scraps of paper from one end of the room to the other with a broom. I say slowly as if she has another speed, which she doesn’t. However, she had no problem bossing Phoebe and Henry around like a drill sergeant. Clearly from the tone of her voice they weren’t measuring up.

    I stood by assessing the scene for a while wondering if Lisa had anything good to eat in her cupboards. A quick glance rewarded me with some chocolate meringues from Trader Joes™. You can have about 5 for only a point. A few minutes of shrieking and I had to put a stop to the chaos. I hushed everyone and took charge. I really didn’t want Lisa walking into the mess they’d made in the living room or my afternoon was going to go to hell in a hand basket. Lisa’d done the old trick my mother used to do. My mother used call about a half an hour before she was going to arrive so as to get Lisa and I to clean up. I always thought she was stupid not knowing the edge it gave us. Until one evening at a café over a glass of wine in Brugge she admitted she’d played us like a violin. I could see Lisa had mastered the technique and was clearly employing it here. And still after all these years I didn’t want to be the one to get in trouble so I cleaned even if they didn’t.

    Lisa arrived on schedule and we chatted in the kitchen while she fixed chicken burgers for our low point lunch. As she took out the fixin’s she told me about her new charge, Kassie. It seems Kassie was brought in the clinic to be euthanized. But Lisa refused. The owner had developed Alzheimers and the adult sons wanted to shoot the dog.

    “Are you flippin’ kidding me?” I asked truly shocked.

    “One of the daughters decided to bring her in to me to put her down. And I wasn’t going to put down a perfectly healthy dog.” Lisa vowed. Now Kassie, the sweet-faced black wiggly lab is looking for a home. I know Lisa will find her one or Kassie will end up on the farm with me.  Six dogs? – I hope Kassie finds a home.

    Lisa reflexively fixed me a coffee for the road and took Quinn to her hair appointment while Henry and I went off to purchase his Valentine present, wrestling shoes. En route I heard a news story about women who drink at least four cups of coffee a day cutting their risk for stroke by 20 percent. Ahhha, so much for my friend, St. Teresa who is “giving it up”. Why does every one seem to think there is virtue in such denial? Frankly, I think a friendly vice or two makes someone more interesting. But then I have a tendency to be a little bit bad within reason.

(Prostock in Bellingham)

    Henry and I arrived at ProStock looking for wrestling shoes. Henry has just joined the school wrestling team and loves it. It’s a dream come true for him. He gets to wrestle kids for the first time and not get in trouble for being stronger. He used to love to wrestle his best friend, Harry Schumacher when they were just tots. And it was ok because it was a draw. They were evenly matched BamBams, but since we lost Harry, Henry has never had another friend he could play with so physically. Until now.

(inside ProStock)

    I was sort of surprised by my son as he walked in the store. He marched confidently right up to the man behind the counter and asked for a pair of wrestling shoes.

    “I only have polka dot.” The man teased with a gleam.

     “That’s perfect. I had my heart set on polka dots.” Henry volleyed.

    “Ok then, follow me.” And off they went off to size Henry up. It was a quick session as the first pair fit like a glove. I asked if wrestling shoes were really so very important, but I was quickly sold on traction and safety.

    “Is he pretty strong?” The man asked as Henry went to examine a pair of orange and black flame socks closely resembling the paint job on a 1970s van.

(socks under consideration)

    “His muscles have muscles. He’s in gymnastics and although he’s not very big, the kids are shocked when he takes his shirt off. Wrestling is giving him a real chance to wow the seventh and eighth graders.”

    “Hey do you practice wrestling on your mom?”

    “On my mom? I can’t take my mom. You don’t know how strong she is. She doesn’t look tough, but you wouldn’t believe it. I might have a chance now since she hurt her leg.” Henry snickered tying his shoes.

    Up at the counter, Henry asked “Hey, what about my polka dots?” The salesman replied, I’m fresh out. I’ll have to let your mother put them on with a Sharpee™”

    When we got to the car, I sung out loud and strong the traditional new shoe song, my mother always sang to me.

(my funny Valentine)

 

“Whenever Henry has his new shoes on,
 his new shoes on, his new shoes on,
we will sing a song,
it needn’t be too long,
when ever Henry has his new shoes on.”

    “Thanks Mama. Now I can really pummel Jacob and when his nose bleeds I can blame it on the hard mat.”

    “That’s nice dear.” To boys, bodily functions and emisis oozing from any orifice are a good thing.

    Upon our arrival home we happened on Alexis doing his self-assigned evening chores. After some discussion about the recent egg laying schedule it was decided Matilda might be done laying as she had eight eggs and hadn't laid in a couple of days now. "How many does Clara have all together?" Henry asked.

    "Seven." I replied. And despite the weather we decided we should probably return all the eggs we’d collected to their respective nests.
(Clara's eggs marked)
(Expectant Mothers -Clara on left - pink bill, pink feet - Matilda in orange)

(Matilda's eggs)

(Matilda's clutch)

(Clara's nest)

 

(Henry replaces Lloyd  & Clara's eggs)

  (Henry and Lloyd - our Arnold Ziffle- snuggle)

    However, as we took out the fool-her eggs and replaced them with the real McCoy we found Matilda had actually laid one more, a total of 16. Undeterred by the cold and the possibility the geese might not be ready to sit, we returned the eggs to their nests trusting in Mother Nature, Clara and Matilda.
   

February 15th A Helping Hand

 (frosted trees as it begins to snow again)

    I languished in bed until the sun screamed at me to get up. When I looked outside I was surprised to see winter was back. The night had silently provided a glistening winter wonderland. Hobbling downstairs I poured a cup of coffee and walked outside onto the porch. Curled up with a blanket I there chatting on the phone in my green flannel pajamas, talking and laughing the morning away as the geese carried on their own conversation like a happy bunch of Greeks.

    Most of the day I spent in bed resting my leg. It was throbbing and I began wondering if it was ever going to heal. About noon, I was supposed to go retrieve Henry. The prospect of a shower was daunting, so I pulled my hair up in a ponytail and put on some lip-gloss. On my way out the door I spotted Alexis rigging up something in the barn. He’d just collected another of Clara’s eggs. I decided to put it in my jacket pocket to show Phoebe. She’d definitely want to see it.

(clear skies surround the twin sisters)
    I drove the ten miles to the little café on Mt. Baker Hwy where Lisa, Chris and the kids were waiting for me. They’d already ordered. As I pulled the egg out of my pocket I saw Phoebe’s eyes dance. “Whose egg is that?” She asked in awe.

    “Why’d you bring that?” Quinn asked with all the teenage angst she could muster.

    “Can I hold it?” Phoebe asked.

    “It’s covered in poop.” Quinn pointed out.

    “You’ll have to wash your hands before you eat.” Chris reminded her.

    “That’s ok.” She said gently taking the egg in her hands. We continued talking about the different nests and goose behaviors. I told Lisa I had the fool-her eggs in Matilda and Clara’s nests.

    “Not exactly the number, but it’s not like they can count.” I said laughingly.

    “Well actually they can.” She said seriously.

    “What?”

    “Yes. They count them and turn them for even heating.” She informed the table. While she was talking I looked over at Phoebe. She was absently petting the egg.

    “Are you petting the egg?” Chris asked choking out a laugh.

    “Yeah, I guess I am.” Phoebe said with a big smile. I vowed to put the proper amount of eggs in the nests, and was just about to take Henry when he begged to stay with Chris, Lisa and the girls “Just one more day. Pleeeeeze!”

    “Sure why not?” I gave in a perhaps too quickly. Isn't  a mother is supposed to pine for her child or something. I had visions of lounging in my bed getting some work done filling my head. The idea of no one to make dinner for, no one to ask me for anything, just peace and quiet was an interesting idea.

(Alexis' goose rig)

(other half of the room)

    I got home as Alexis was finishing with his barn rig. It was pretty sweet. He had divided the goose stall in to two separate areas for the two couples. Each had their own dog carrier as their potentially portable nest. They could share water, and food, but remain separate. While the other four were in the old dog pens clipped together in the center of the barn making a menacing sound. I felt badly for Miracle; those big ears and all. I wondered if the racket drove her absolutely nuts or if the animals liked the activity.

(Miracle wonders what all the fuss is about)

(Alexis and Cleveland)

(The egg-less couples - by choice)

I went inside the house with the intention of doing some stuff on the computer, but Alexis built me a fire in the family room and I relaxed with my leg up as another couple of hours melted away catching up with old friends.

    After the barn was closed up for the night, Alexis and I decided to hit the North Fork Beer Shrine – Pizza- and Wedding Chapel. I’d saved my points and was ready for the house cab. We had a great dinner and a long talk about life, our hopes our dreams and how we intended to re-introduce the goose eggs. What came next was unexpected. I don’t know why maybe it was the wine, or the snow or the long talks I’d had with my friends lately, but I found myself opening up and admitting I’d felt his help around the farm had been a sort of criticism. I told him I'd felt every time he helped, he was constantly telling me I didn’t measure up. He looked at me quizzically.

    “I’d sensed something.” He said matter-of-factly.

    “You see when you feed the cows a bale of hay, I feel you think I should have fed the cows a bale of hay the day before and I’m not really taking care of the cows the way I should. The same with cleaning the barn. I guess you could say I have a hard time accepting help. This drove many boyfriends away.” He nodded readily acknowledging how this might be a problem with just a little too much understanding. I ignored this most recent affront. “I’ll never forget one boyfriend telling me quite honestly, ‘Denise I know I’ll never be your hero.’ I guess, my injury, my leg has made me slow down. I can’t tell you how much your help has meant to me these past two weeks. I don’t know how I would have done it with out you.”

    “Your welcome.” He said with a grin. “You know as I’ve said before, this place isn’t a one man job or even a two man job. You really need Tom up here and help on top of that. How about if you feed in the morning and just know I’ll handle the evening. You don’t have to ask, we don’t have to arrange, you don’t have to confirm, just know I have it covered.” He offered magnanimously.

    “Thank you.” I said taking another big sip of the at least 3 point glass of wine.
     When dinner was finished, Alexis waved me away and paid the bill. He stood up and extended his hand. “I’m Alexis, it’s been nice to meet you.” He said warmly. I’d made a new friend.

February 14th Sleepless Near Seattle

  (sunrise on the mountains)
  Reluctantly I opened my eyes at 6:00AM. Not a particularly early time to get up unless of course, you stayed up 'like an ass wrapping heart-shaped Rice Krispie treats in cellophane, tying them with fuchsia bows and talking on the phone 'til 3:00AM.

    Knowing I had to get in gear I threw a pot of coffee on took a hot shower and hobbled up and down the stairs getting Henry's uniform ready. Before I woke him up I went on an astrological website and found my love sign match – Virgo woman, Capricorn man. It seems we're perfect for each other. We always get along and have the same perspective. It is true whatever problems we have it isn't how we get along. I pondered, is this because we never see each other? Anyway, I sent Tom a copy as I sipped on my coffee. Next I looked up Capricorn woman, Libra man – Lisa and Chris. As I read it I almost spit out my coffee I laughed so hard. It spoke of mis-communication and gave them a 50/50 chance of making it on this their 17th year of marriage. Not everyone can have in-sinc biorhythms I copied it and sent it to Lisa.
(Clara's Fool-her eggs)

     Limped upstairs and woke Henry, fed the dogs, cats, geese, lambs, goats and the donkey. Gave everyone fresh water, checked on Henry's progress and sent him back  to brush his teeth. He had lion breath. We loaded up the car with our assigned items minus the crock pot as it had a small crack. I didn't think was appropriate for serving food items to the public.

    Henry and I arrived at the gym early so we sat outside for a few minutes as I ate my chocolate caramel Weight Watchers™ bar. A tad early for sweets, but what the heck. When the rest of the parents came tumbling in, we got to work decorating the gym. I was naturally selected to go get the coffee urns at Starbucks™. It worked out well as the bubbly girl filling them thought I needed and deserved a Grande drip for my efforts – on the house. I thought she was very insightful.

(Kessa making the price list)

(Michelle and Kim working the stand)
(my little creations)

(getting the gym ready)

    The parents hosted the concession stand and so I stood for next five hours, not doing my sore leg any favors. By the time we left, I was near tears in pain. I got to the car and drove home to feed the all the animals. Henry my little chatterbox was full of excitement about his performance. He was happy he'd proven his scores at Black Jack weren't a fluke. We stopped for goose food at the feed store and I got into a discussion on goslings. The lady at the counter had a 16 year-old goose who slept in a dog bed on her porch. It sounded darling but all I could think of was goose poop.

    We got home to find all the animals fed and put away. Alexis had struck again bless his heart. He had the most recent egg from Matilda; we took it in the house and got ready for the evening's festivities.

    Lisa had purchased tickets at a small theatre in honor of my mother's upcoming birthday. My mom was a great believer in making memories by doing things and in attending the theatre. The show was a Sherlock Holmes play starring Quinn and Phoebe's new piano teacher. 

(the playbill)

    Henry and I arrived early collected the tickets at will call and waited in the cute theatre for the clan to arrive. Nana, Chris, Quinn, Phoebe and Lisa came strolling in and we took our seats. The set was lovely, the seats cozy and the theatre warm.

(Lisa and Phoebe with crimped hair)

(Quinn,The Amazing Donaldson - Chris and Henry)
(Quinn should consider a photography class - as she chopped our heads off)

(Quinn taking Quinn)

(almost time)

    As the play began, I realized, the day had caught up with me and I was tired. My leg throbbed as I tried to get comfortable. Sitting in the audience watching the actors I started taking long slow blinks. I could hear voices in the background as I shook my head to stay awake. And then again, I would slip away coming back to see Sherlock playing the violin or conducting a séance. Dr. Watson would be stomping around the room and I heard an occasional "Elementary"bandied about.

(Quinn and Henry clowning in a very middle school way)
 (Henry and Phoebe enjoying the donated snacks)

(Henry and Nana -Annie)

Thankfully coffee was served at intermission. I chuckled to myself as Annie said she was having a hard time staying awake and Quinn had admitted she'd nodded off. Phoebe simply curled up in a ball under Lisa's coat and took a nap. The play was a little talkie reminiscent of a French film like "Dinner with Andre". It needed a little melodrama, some excitement, some music perhaps or some fun special effects otherwise what I saw was pretty wonderful.

(221-B Baker Street)

    Henry begged to stay the night at Lisa's and so I drove home alone after a stop at Crusin' Coffee in the Trader Joes™ parking lot. I will never get over how lovely it is to have drive- thru coffee kiosks. Pure genius. No getting out of your car on cold nights.

    

When I got home, I called Lisa to let her know I'd arrived safely. She informed me Quinn was very worried I was all alone because she didn't want me to be lonely. I assured her I'd be fine as I sleepily climbed in between my flannel sheets surrounded by five snoring dogs and three purring cats. It sounded like I was residing in an old age home and I can assure you I was not lonely.

January 3rd Runs In The Family

(Laura's stocking)

       Laura, Tom’s only daughter and Henry’s sister is coming for her first visit to the farm. I’m a nervous wreck. She has one dainty cat and has lived with her mother who’s a gourmet cook in an immaculate house most of her life. I’m unemployed farm girl who burns chocolate chip cookies and whose culinary repertoire consists mostly of peasant food: casseroles, six different types of chicken, chili and spicy meatloaf; we have six dogs, three cats, no water and a broken sink. What’s to worry about?

    Unfortunately, or fortunately Henry and I weren’t able to go to the airport to pick her up because Henry had gymnastics. This gave Tom and Laura time to have dinner together, go home feed the animals, build a fire and get settled. It also gave Henry and I time to be nervous. Henry hadn’t seen her in years and although he absolutely adored Craig, having a sister was a different story. Henry couldn’t believe it when I pulled into the Burger King parking lot after gymnastics. "Chicken Fries and a Whopper Jr.™ Hen - Six or Nine pieces?"

    “Mom! Chicken Fries? You never let me have fast-food” Henry said with wonder.

    “Never say never. Nine pieces please.” I could waste time with the best with them. We drove home with "MacGyver" blasting.

    When we arrived, Tom and Laura were sitting in the family room watching some goofy movie. The house was freezing. I couldn’t believe Tom hadn’t turned up the heat. One look at her and I knew she was just this side of a Popsicle. I cranked up the heat to 68 degrees and got her the fuzzy cheetah blanket. Henry snuggled in with her immediately his fears disappearing in a blink. I felt better. I started making Henry chocolate chip/ butterscotch cookies for a snack at the meet tomorrow. Having scorched many a cookie and not wanting to embarrass myself in front of Laura, I set a timer as I popped them into the oven.

 (Laura and Tom)

  (Laura's Audrey)

     Laura was lovely, no longer the little girl I’d made a pink Christmas stocking for so many years before, but a talented woman in her own right. Proving the apple doesn't fall from the tree, she's an artist like her father. She showed me a spectacular painting she’d done of Audrey Hepburn for class. I was amazed. I couldn’t dream of doing such beautiful work. After a cup of Earl Grey and a bit of chatting, we all turned in early, as Henry had a competition in Seattle in the afternoon.

    We all got up and did our appointed chores, ate breakfast, collected all the various jackets, cameras, cell phones and bags. We piled in Tom’s truck and were about to head to Seattle when Tom asked me if we had any batteries for Laura’s camera. I ran in the house doubting I could find any. Despite all odds, I was in fact successful. 2009 was going to be my year. I got in the truck, put on my red glasses and turned to give Laura the batteries. To my surprise, she was peering back at me through her purple iridescent glasses. Yes, we were gong to get along just fine.

    Turns out we were late. Late, late, late – Pea and I were about at each other’s throats. He drives permanently stuck in turtle mode and I was about to burst worried Henry was going to miss the warm-up before the meet. Henry about came unglued thinking they might not let him compete. This being his first competition at level 6, a much more advanced level than he's competed before. I called Mike knowing he’d be at the meet early, and of course he was. He tried to help, but Tom’s navigational system took us to the wrong place and Mike didn’t know enough to help us find our way. Somehow, Tom got us there. By sheer luck, the session before us had run an hour late and Henry hadn’t missed a thing. The Donaldson’s strolled in before the anthem and all flowed smoothly from there. 

(Henry and Jesse during march in)

    Before Henry’s first event, he came running over with a couple of baggies of cookies I’d stored in his gym bag. I handed them out to Mike, Phoebe and Quinn. Lisa came over a little while later and asked for a cookie. Proudly, I handed her one. She took it, examined it and said, “They’re not burnt.”

    “I set a timer.”

(Henry with his coach on rings)

  (Henry again)

(Henry on parallel bars)

(Henry at the Washington Open - running toward the vault)

    Henry did much better than either Tom or I was expecting. Henry's a competitor like his sister. Laura played club soccer and then college ball. Tom has proudly saved countless newspaper clippings documenting her heroics. Henry, too, was suddenly out there fighting. In the end, he missed 10th place by just two tenths. Naturally, he was disappointed, but we were so pleased at his effort and gratified he was putting forth his best for a change. We've been used to him mailing it in lately.

    “Mom, I was so close!” He bemoaned his loss.

    “Henry, do you remember back a couple months ago when I said that if you didn’t put more effort in you’d be sorry later when you didn’t win? That day is today. The amazing thing is you did so well for someone who hasn’t tried too hard and I think with a lot of effort in the next couple of weeks you can probably get up on the podium.”

    Mike, Annie, Team Donaldson and all of us went to Sonrisa, the same delicious Mexican place we’d gone to last year. We all squeezed into one big booth ordered margaritas, calamari and lots of spicy food. Somehow Chris brought up that the game of soccer began by kicking around severed heads. Quinn didn’t believe him for an instant, so she turned to wise owl Mike.

    “Mike, did soccer start by kicking severed heads?” Quinn asked skeptically.

    He paused a moment to swallow and said, “Why yes, it did.”

    “Dad! You passed the Mike test!” Quinn said incredulously.

    “What is this? You doubted me? Of course, I passed the Mike test c’mon” He laughed.

    At the end of the evening, we debated whether we should take Laura to the Donaldson’s so she could wash her hair, but it was determined we’d heat up some water and she could wash it over the bathtub. She was now one of us.

    A day would not be complete lately without a game of Apples to Apples™ and so after Laura's official farm baptism, Wayne came down and the hands were dealt. Tom and Laura beat the rest of us to a pulp (our new favorite game of the moment)

(Tom makes a snow angel)

December 31st In The Moment

  (Tom serving up his pork chops)

For the first time, Quinn had New Years Eve plans with some girlfriends, Annie didn’t feel well and to Lisa, Chris and Phoebe’s disappointment as three is too few to play many games except Kadoo™, we decided to stay home rather than brave the snow, drunks and icy roads.    
(Is Wayne festive or is it because of  not showering in a while? - Wayne wears his santa hat)

    Alexis, and Wayne joined us for a quiet dinner. To mark the occasion, I donned some of my grandmother's costume jewelry to which set off my ponytail and my hand-me-down wool sweater quite nicely. Tom grilled pork chops and served them with a sumptuous chipotle chutney I could have eaten with a spoon. Afterward we sipped Hot Apple Pies (spiced cider with Tuaca™, whipped cream topped with cinnamon and nutmeg) while we played raucous 80 rounds of Apples to Apples™.  Tom won 21 times, I was a close second with 19 , Alexis held his own in third while Henry and Wayne couldn’t seem to come up with much when faced with such worthy opponents.
(Henry downs another bottle of Martinellis)

    As the New Year approached Alexis poured some champagne he’d been saving. We tried to watch the ball drop and the fireworks in Seattle, but the snow had knocked the satellite out and I was not up to climbing on the icy roof at midnight. Instead, we talked of the inauguration, our hopes for the economy, pondered resolutions, toasted running water and wished for an early spring thaw. As I sat there in the light of the fire amongst the laughter, watching Henry sip his first champagne I dismissed nagging thoughts of increasing wrinkles, pounds and grey hair. Instead, I enjoyed the moment treelights twinkling remembering what Lisa always says right before she  smiles and thinks of Oprah's money when taking a picture. "We're never going to be younger than we are right now." Silently, I prayed for employment the ability to refinance and the health of my friends and family - not necessarily in that order.

December 30th Friendship the Perfect Blendship

(Ready for a nice chat)

    Day 16 without water is no longer a desperate situation. We’ve actually started to take it for granted we make trips to the pond, melt snow regularly and have plenty of drinking water on hand. Oh, we walk by the sink lift the handle and say, “ I wish I had a million dollars” like George Bailey does when he tries the cigar lighter in “It’s a Wonderful Life” but we never really expect it to turn on. Sadly, Tom’s even started dreaming of running water. This morning Pea went down to the creek with his new siphon he bought at Loews™ while I was tidying the house for our guests. Lisa’s family lives in Spokane so we’re practically neighbors. Which is close if you consider the eight-hour drive between Los Angeles and San Francisco something you’d do any old weekend. Today she was leaving her husband behind to work in Seattle while she drove up with her eight-year-old twins, Emily and Zach. My sister was also coming with her girls. Lisa and I had a falling out neither of us cared to remember and hadn’t seen each other since Henry was a toddler, before her kids were born and to tell the truth, we were a little nervous about how everyone would get along. I figured Quinn would hang out with the ladies, Henry would be happy to have a boy and Phoebe was simply thrilled to be a month older than somebody. 

    Tom came back cheeks flushed water jugs full. “The siphon works great!” He beamed. “I just put it underwater and it fills the jugs while I fill the big buckets for the animals. As long as it doesn’t come up out off the bottom it just keeps flowing.” It seemed like he had plenty of water, but no sooner did we do some dishes, fill the tanks of the toilets and flush them and then fill them up again so we’d have company-ready-toilets than we were practically out of water again.
(Miracle and Lisa)

    Lisa arrived with lots of smiles, hugs and jugs of water. Once the kids were bundled and happily out sledding, Wayne, Tom, Lisa, and I went out to the pond for another water run after a quick visit to the barn.  Lisa was heartily amused by the scene.
(Zach declines Lisa's efforts to bundle him up)
(Emily and Zach race up Cougar Hill as Wayne and Pea look on with Luther and Abbey)

(Rocky the 9-year-old Chocolate Lovable Lab who couldn't get enough of Luther --he pawed, he licked -he snuggled and he cried when he had to leave Lu)

(Emily, Zach and Henry hitch a ride to the pond)
(Lisa takes a tumble)

(On the way - with Vivian trailing behind)
(Quinn with a few of the dogs: Vivian, Winnifred, Rocky, Luther, Charlie and Bruno - not pictured: Irish, Abbey and Deli)

(Lisa in between hauling jugs of water to the truck - and Vivian by the frozen pond)

    “I guess this 'crik' is a long way from the Calabasas Commons” she giggled as she snapped pictures in her black faux fur trimmed coat creating evidence of my “Green Acres” way of life. Bundled in worn khaki from head to toe, wearing my snow boots standing ankle deep in the creek as I filled the next jug I had to agree. I watched Tom haul water buckets to the truck picturing him hair slicked back ordering oysters on the half shell
(Pea going to the creek)

(Pea gettin' water)

 

    “Do you have Fanny Bay’s or Kumomoto’s?” He’d ask seated in the bar at Kings' Seafood Restaurant.  I can remember Henry running in one time from the fountain outside saying, “Mom! The ring you got me fell off and I couldn’t find it. But Charlie’s mom found it.”

    “Who’s Charlie?” I asked.

    “The kid I was playing with over there.” He said pointing to a sandy-haired kid seated next to his mother wearing a red and white baseball shirt. “She crawled all around the fountain and in the bushes until she found it!” She waved hello as we nodded our thanks to none other than Jodi Foster. I’d been a fan of hers since “The Little Girl Who Lived Down The Lane.” It was true life had changed more than I’d realized, but I’m happier -although it would be nice to be able to talk to her now and show her our plans for Fort Flashback. Sigh.

(Everyone plays "Apples to Apples")
(Phoebe and Quinn with their game on)

(Zach and Lisa)

(Emily and Henry - in uniform)

    The rest of the day was filled with catching up, pizza, playing “Apples to Apples” with the kids and feeding the animals treats. “I guess I’m a sheltered city- kid, I’ve never had my hand near a cow’s lips before.” Lisa reflected wide-eyed after she fed the cows some grain. Zach played mostly with the dogs, taking a shine to Bruno and begging me to use my influence with his mother to get him his own pet. He swore up and down he’d be responsible and take care of it ALWAYS.

(Zach playing with Rocky and Charlie)
(Zach and his new buddy Bruno)

 Emily was more concerned with feeding and taking care of the barn animals and curious about my potential acquisitions. I alluded to the possibility of an American Guinea Hog and my strong desire for a few poultry varieties – chickens, turkeys and if you twisted my arm I could be talked into a duck. (Emily doing barn chores)

    The day was cut short by Henry’s mock competition. He was to be at the gym in full uniform because a visiting judge was coming in to evaluate the boys before Saturday’s competition, the Washington Open. Lisa, Emily and Zach drove down to Burlington to watch a couple of events. They stayed for the pommel and parallel bars before heading back to Seattle. Zach and Emily vowed their return while Lisa made a heartfelt promise of a long weekend soon, very soon. Henry leaned over and suggested quietly, “Mom let the air out of their tires then they’ll have to spend the night.” Looks like they got along.

   

December 25th A Sinking Feeling

 (Lloyd and Clara all dressed for Christmas dinner?)

(our Christmas geese: Lloyd, Clara, Mabel, Ruthie, Alfred, Quackmire, Matilda and Cleveland)

Preparation for our “Walton Family Christmas” demanded more of me than shopping. It required putting into action “it’s the thought that counts”. To this end, I did several photo shoots of the kids to give as gifts to most of the people in my life. The project was so rife with problems I thought we’d never pull it off. The first weekend the girls came over we didn’t get snow. Then there was the Quinn problem. At twelve years of age, she is very self-conscious and silly. I must have taken two hundred photographs and Quinn ruined one hundred ninety-nine of them. She was too cold – primarily because she only wore a tank top under her turtleneck. Why anyone would do this when they knew they were going to lie in the snow remains a deep-seated middle school mystery. She felt weird smiling because of her braces; she hunched her shoulders because she felt too tall; her hair poofed up behind her head because she wiggled nervously; she leaned the wrong way; etc. I finally got the shot, but when Costco™ printed it they cut off Quinn’s face, so I had to reprint it. I then uploaded it again and re-ordered. I drove back to Costco™  - still only half of Quinn. So I repeated the process again and yet again until, at last, on Christmas Eve the photo came out right.
(Scarves on sale at Ross.  Shot to hang this way at the Donaldsons' - upside down at Tom's - and Quinn at the top for the grandparents)

    Henry is getting one real gift from Tom and me, an orange iPod™ Nano™. I thought that, given our finances, it was too big a gift, but try telling that to a father who only sees his son once a month or so. Tom got a real deal on it through work and ordered it engraved before I had a thing to say about it. It is the one thing Henry has been pining for. One present for each of us makes a pretty barren presentation beneath the tree and, so it wouldn’t look so sparse, I dove into a box of hand-me-down games my friend Kathy gave me. Her grandkids had never played with these games and I don’t know if Henry will either, but they were free and when wrapped up they would be something to rip open on Christmas morning.

    Christmas Eve we trekked down to Burlington to get the pictures and made another trip to Michaels™ for one more clearance frame. Then on to Mass and dinner at the Donaldsons for Tom’s favorite, Lisa's beef stew. We stayed way too late laughing and chatting, considering the wrapping I had ahead of me. And we all showered before we left since we were going on day 10 without water due to the still-frozen pipes.
(very merry with fondue)

(Chris and Tom wrapped up a little something for Henry to open Christmas Eve - a lemon. As a result Tom got an onion in his stocking and a warning from Santa not to cry about it.)

(Henry and Phoebe messing around - with the lemon?)

    When we got home, Tom looked bleary-eyed. He tried staying awake to help me, but his endless hours of driving to make it by Christmas Eve had caught up with him and he checked out. I dialed up Mike about 1:30 AM, knowing he’s almost always up for a late night chat and, wearing my hands-free headset, I wrapped pictures, cleaned the house and wrote the clues for Henry’s annual Christmas Treasure Hunt while we discussed everything from soup to nuts. 

    One clue is wrapped up or hidden on the tree. Once it is found, there are about five or six more clues leading to the big gift. Clue Number 1: "Let's face it, it's time to look for your present".



("You're almost there, you're steaming hot." leading to the tea kettle)

      Mike and I finally said good-bye and I went to bed around 6:00 AM, only to get back up and make my special occasion Chai French toast and bacon around 9:00 AM. After the stockings, the hunt and the trash pick-up we began preparing for our big waterless Christmas Dinner.

     Tom spent all day in the kitchen. He boiled at least thirty-two pitchers of snow as he washed days of dishes, while I tidied, made centerpieces, mopped and placed candles around the house. Henry did his share by changing the litter boxes, cleaning his room and vacuuming. Wayne gathered enough pond water so we could flush with abandon when the guests arrived
(my Target™ 40%-off runner, $ 2.00 hurricane lamps, logs from the woodpile, glitter from my teacher art box and pine cones from the yard)

(rose hips and a bow)

(ready for dinner)

    The actual dinner was a snap, really. I bought paper plates, cups, bowls and napkins. I even sprang for the fancy, shmancy plastic chrome-colored silverware. Annie bought the turkey ahead of time, washing and salting it before giving it to me. I made stuffing and popped the turkey in the oven. The salad came in a bag. The green beans were from Trader Joes™ as were the five boxes of frozen scalloped potatoes I put in a lasagna pan. The hors d’oeuvres and dessert were from Costco™. Not my culinary achievement, but delicious, nonetheless. We sat down in candlelight, thankful for all our blessings, our friends and our family. Yet the toasts ran to indoor plumbing, running water and flushing toilets. Cleanup was as easy as 1-2-3, at least until the sink unexpectedly separated from the counter top.
(disaster strikes)

    How that was possible after less than a year’s worth of use stunned me, but I’d have to think about it tomorrow.  We poured more sparkling cider, eggnog, rum, and wine, and played games by the funky Christmas tree. Little-bit-of-a-snippet, Phoebe, triumphed over all of us, but we gave her a run for her money.

     It wasn’t a grand Christmas, but I’ll wager it was one we’ll all cherish. Good Night and Merry Christmas, John-Boy.
(Exhausted from the Christmas festivities - Irish, Bruno and Luther settle in for a long winter's nap)

December 21st Alive!

(Henry outside his bedroom window)

Henry the homebody decided to stay home, but Alexis and I decided enough was enough we needed to go to town. We wanted to replace my broken chains, and take a hot shower. With Alexis by my side, I exchanged the chains with some brisk convincing. And we were off to Lisa’s luxury bathhouse.

Warm to the bone and ready to go home, we gathered up the girls for a weekend on the farm. Naturally, they made popcorn in the popcorn machine and we watched a triple feature “All My Children – the memorial to Myrtle Fargate”, “Crusoe” the new series and “It’s a Wonderful Life”. By the end, everyone wished Irish’s name was Clarence, he’d have made an excellent Clarence - but tell that to the Notre Dame graduate.

(snow snuggling)
(Henry carries sled/boat)

(Quinn tumbles)

(sisters)

(Norman Rockwell winter weekend)
(Andy watching the action)

(fun, fun, fun)

(at the bottom of the hill)
(sledding cougar hill near the pasture)


(flying down the hill)

    For the next two days except for taking care of the animals and getting water from the stream by the pond, it was sledding and more sledding. We brought the inflatable boat from the pond to accommodate us. Henry and I carried the boat up the most with Quinn complaining. “Tell us Phoebe, when are you going to carry the boat up?”

“I di-idd!” Phoebe whined with a familiar, this-snow-is-so-hard-to-walk-in-and-these-boots-are-so-heavy-I-don’t-think-I’ll-make-it-up-the-hill-one-more-time-tone.

“No you did not.  Denise carries it up for you Phoebe. Is it because you’re the littlest and you can’t?” She said with the distinctly bitter older sister tone.

(making the goose bed and leaving food)

(Henry and Alexis walk on the frozen pond)

(the pond gets smaller and predators can get closer)

I remember when I was five my mother saying “Hold your sister’s hand, she’s so little she’s just three yet”. Only to hear her saying when I was eight “Hold your sister’s hand she’s only five.” I guess I was wired for big sistering though, because I liked taking care of Lisa. If she fell, I helped her up. When she was little I’d make treasure hunts for her on vacation and help her find the clues leading to the buried treasure of candy rocks in the middle of the Painted Desert. I taught her to count to 100. Of course, she was the brave one. She would go right up to kids and ask them if we could play too. Naturally, we fought, and sometimes I thought our neighbor, Jennifer Spaulding, was more fun than boring old Lisa. It was like those then my mother would always say, “Friends will come and go, when I’m gone Lisa will be there. Always take care of each other.” Quinn and Phoebe bicker much, much more than Lisa and I did, but I’m hoping they’ll muddle through it.
(going to bed)

(Vivian chases Bruno)

(Bruno charging through the snow)

    Getting them home started with loading up the laundry and putting the geese away and ended with digging out my car and getting my new chains on. Eventually, we rolled along, Phoebe and Henry watching Jack Benny in the backseat.

    Lisa’s was a dream. Henry and I each began our treatments differently. I sipped on hot tea as Lisa baked cookies. Henry took a towel and spent some time in the Jacuzzi and sauna before his shower. Lisa helped me start the laundry. I followed Henry’s path and donned clean clothes at the end. After dinner and “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” (my father’s favorite Christmas special) when I finally had everything folded we loaded up the car. Getting the car out required, Chris, driving, Lisa digging, Phoebe shoveling and me adjusting the chains. It took us almost two hours just to get me out of their steep driveway. I thought of staying the night, but I had the animals, the house to clean and Christmas was just days away. There was so much to do at home.

    “I’ll call you when I get home.” I said as I watched them start digging Lisa’s car out so she could get to work in the morning. Slowly I crawled home listening to some radio call in show “Neighbor to Neighbor and Driver to Driver” about how snowed in everyone is. Ex-Ohioans were giving tips on how it’s done in the real cold. Washingtonians were mentioning with the steep hills doing some of what the “experts” said wasn’t so easy. Henry slept in the backseat.

    I pulled over three times to check my chains. Once at an Arco where I had a man help me tighten them one more notch. Once as I started on Mt. Baker Hwy and finally just as I turned on to Mosquito Lake Road. I drove at a snail’s pace as the radio show turned to static in the Welcome Valley. I eventually punched the button and started singing Christmas songs. We were going slow but steady in the toasty car. We wound around the ominous “S” turn and went carefully over the one lane bridge. We were only two miles from home as we came to the last real obstacle. The one I’d been nervous about the incline. This is where the road ascends a couple hundred feet. I shifted down to and tried the hill. We got about half way up and began sliding backward. I turned the car gently and guiding it backward down the hill a ways and shifted down into the lowest gear. I tried again and got a little farther. I tried again and the car began to slip making strange grinding noises almost all the dashboard lights lit up. The brake light, the ABS light everything. Startled, I sat in the car thinking as giant fluffy flakes fell. I had to weigh my options. If I tried again and again, more than likely I wasn’t going to make it the snow was almost six inches thicker than when I left. If I tried and failed, the car could slip backward and go over the edge. The drop off is severe. Not wanting to risk it, I backed the car down the hill closer to the one lane bridge until I came to the road sign warning drivers a stop is coming up. I tucked the van under the sign hoping to make us as visible as possible. It was on the wrong side of the road, but I didn’t want to be anywhere near the edge if someone came down the hill and lost control. On this side of the road we wouldn’t be in the line of a skid.
    My mind raced thinking of all the possibilities. Should we get out and walk? We’re only two miles from home. I thought of Henry sleeping in the back seat. His boots were so wet I made him put plastic bags around his feet before we left. He was so tired and the snow falling so hard and I was wearing blue suede boots without any tread. I looked in the car for a flashlight; I had one in my emergency kit. Turning it on, I couldn’t believe how puny the beam looked. We couldn’t walk Henry would never make it and I wasn’t leaving him here alone.

    “Henry, Henry, Henry! Wake-up Honey. Henry I’ve got to talk to you.”

    “What? What? What! Mama, I’m so tired”

    “Henry, I’ve got to talk to you. You don’t know where we are.”

    “We’re at Lisa and Chris'’”

    “Um, no we’re not. We’re on Mosquito Lake Road and we’re stuck. We’re going to spend the night here, Boo.” I didn’t want him waking up in the middle of the night and freaking out.

    “What?!! We’re going to spend the night in the car, Mama?”

    “It’s OK, Honey.” I cooed. “We’ll be fine. The car is nice and warm. We have all our laundry from Lisa’s, so we have lots of things to keep warm. Lisa gave me water before we left so we really don’t have anything to worry about. We’re safe in here until someone finds us.”

    “What if something scratches at the window?” Henry sounded panicky.

    “Henry, people go on safari in vans – we’d be fine even if Karen, the cougar, paid us a call. Who knows we might even see something amazing out here alone.” With the car still running and the lights still on, I opened the side door to the van. The snow came all the way up to the floor. I told Henry to lean out and pee. You don’t have to tell a boy to do this twice. I went outside and did the same.

    I reclined the backseats and tried to get Henry comfortable for the night. He was wearing snow pants, but only a t-shirt so I had him put on a couple more layers out of the laundry bag. He put on my old red elf hat he’s taken to wearing and without another word snuggled down under the comforter like a little hamster burrowing in. I was alone again. The heater still blasting I sat next to Henry watching the snow. I leaned forward and turned off the car. I’d filled up in town when I adjusted the chains, so I had plenty of gas, but I didn’t want to waste it. It was dark. As my eyes adjusted I could see just a faint hint of light outside the car as the snow began covering the windows. It got cold in the car quickly. I knew it wasn’t crazy cold because it was snowing, but the comforter wasn’t going to be enough to be comfortable.  I was wearing my jacket, but Henry’s was still wet from sledding. Robinson Crusoe popped into my head, as did every survival tip I’d ever heard. “Be careful of snow covering your tail pipe and carbon monoxide filling the car.” “Keep the windows open a crack.” Robinson’s secret to survival was gathering all possible supplies before he needed them, so taking a page from the book I started to do the same. Crawling into the trunk area I started digging around. I found flares and threw them in the backseat. It didn’t seem they’d too be useful as no one could see them. I kept digging. I found an old pair of Tom’s water shoes. They might be useful if I had to walk in the morning. I could put them over my boots. I threw them in the back seat. I got Henry’s Toblerone™ bar I’d bought him for Christmas. We could share it in the morning. I tossed things around uncovering Jumper cables, rope, and the emergency thermal blanket. I opened the blanket and put it over Henry under the comforter. “Keep the baby warm, keep the baby warm” went through my head like some deep maternal mantra. I thought of the little girl who’d died in Seattle a couple of weeks ago sleeping in a car with her parents. I snuggled in next to Henry.

    In the quiet, I prayed. “Dear God, thank you for keeping us safe and warm. Please take care of us through the night. Please let Lisa hear me.” I sat nervously looking around me. The bears would be hibernating by now. Cougars wouldn’t be out in a night like this. Truly I was more worried about bad guys than animals. I’d read “In Cold Blood” for book club. Suddenly a loud crash on the top of the car, like a nervous cat I jumped out of my seat as I realized it was a tree dumping snow on the car.

    “Lisa, can you hear me? I need you. Find us.” I knew she’d be panicky by now. She wouldn’t go to bed and forget about me. I’d told her I’d call and I knew she’d worry. We’d been through enough crises. She wouldn’t dismiss this. We’d heard a news story last year about a woman who was missing for a week. Her husband finally got Verizon™ to access her phone and locate her via satellite. Lisa had said, “I’ll tell you what, if you were missing it wouldn’t have taken me a week.” I knew too she and Chris couldn’t make it out here. Not on this road. She’d call Tom and he might call Alexis. I waited hoping for headlights to come around the corner and find us. As I looked out into the dark, I realized I didn’t have my camera if we did see something amazing. Which meant, we’d probably see sasquatch. Maybe he’d help us like dolphins do divers. Why do I always think a sasquatch is male, I wondered.

    I turned on the engine every hour for a couple of minutes heating up the car. About 1:00AM I gave up hope of rescue. The next thing I knew, I heard banging and scratching at the window. I looked up and saw a black object in the window. Frightened out of sleep I sat still thinking this is what Henry was afraid of.

    “Dee! DEE! Are you in there?” It was Wayne! Lisa had heard me. I knew she would.

    Prince Charming had arrived. “Wayne! Wayne! We’re here!” I unlocked the doors.

    “Lisa called. She had the highway patrol looking for you. When they didn’t find you on the main road, she had me come looking for you. I’m so glad you guys are all right. I was so scared.” He explained hugging me.

    “Wayne. I was afraid something would scratch at the door, I never thought it would be you.” Henry exclaimed. “Mama? Can we go home now?”

    “Yeah, We’re going home Buddy.” Wayne said with a smile.
(digging out the next day)

(Wayne shoveling us out)

November 9th Nothing Beats A Full House

(Little Sam Horner, 5, and Irish)

    Laughter and shrieking filled the house as Team Donaldson arrived with old neighbors: Liza (6th grade), Audrey (3rd grade) and Sam Horner (kindergarten). Over the years our families have spent a lot of time together for birthday parties, sleepovers, Thanksgivings, Christmases and many Easter egg hunts. Of course, there were hugs and kisses all around. Audrey got a little more than she bargained for when Vivian Irene Rottweiler planted a big wet one right on her cheek. A moment later Irish rushed past Sam, knocking him flat on the wood floor as he went by. Sam went down like one of those plastic clowns you punch, which hits the ground and immediately bounces back up.

    “Are you ok?” Lisa asked.

    “Yeah,” Sam replied, non-plussed, as he got up and resumed looking at the jukebox.

    Despite the rain, it wasn’t long before children were darting everywhere. To the barn to meet the goats! To the side yard to see the geese! To the pasture to feed the cows! Then to the pond on the tractor! Nervous about predators, I wanted them to take an air horn with them to make noise, but I laughed as they reached the pond and I could still hear every word they yelled to each other. They were safe.
(Quinn, Sam, Phoebe and Liza in the bucket. Henry is driving and Audrey is screaming)

    While they were gone, we went about our plan to set up the Cider Press. We'd gotten it for Fort Flashback. It was a common colonial item and we thought kids would enjoy seeing how cider was made. Cider is produced by crushing apples. It is 90% apple - if it contains more water than that it is called apple juice.

    So Lisa, Alexis, Chris and I picked apples and began wiping down the Cider Press. Lisa and Alexis chopped the apples, making sure they were worm-free. (Lisa and Alexis -  chopping machines)

    When all the kids returned, they shoved handfuls of apple chunks into the grinder until the bucket was full. Audrey was in charge of making sure the apples were firmly packed down. After all, we wanted as much cider as possible. Wayne wandered in from watching football and sat down. Contentedly, I looked around. It was if everything was in slow motion, girls giggling, men talking, boys shoving, dogs barking, football blaring. Lisa was chopping, and it was perfect. It’s moments like these that are magical. Ordinary moments.

     It was then that my father entered the room. No, he isn’t back from Paris, but he was channeling across the continents through his grandson. It seems Sam asked Henry whose cool horn was by the music stand - and chaos ensued. Henry walked into the room and began practicing a barely recognizable version of “Jingle Bells” he’s quite proud of. I thought Lisa was going to have a breakdown.
(Wayne & Chris look on as Henry carries on a family tradition and Sam cuts up)

    “Make him stop. He’s just like his grandfather, playing that thing in the middle of enough noise. I just can’t take the playing.”
(Quinn watching Henry add to the chaos. Phoebe working hard)

   “And he’s not as good as his grandfather,” Wayne interjected.

   “That’s not it,” Lisa said. “It’s not how he’s playing; it’s that he’s playing.”

   “Don’t discourage him from playing. Ever,” Chris shushed her. 

   "Ever?"

   "Ever," Chris repeated.

" (Liza, Phoebe and Audrey cider pressing)
  (Henry crushes some apples and Sam watches, with Chris's assistance, as Liza fills the grinder)
(Sam gives it a try)
(Liza working for the cider) (Cider at last!)

   When the pressing began, everyone took turns but, as the press squeezed downward, the turning got increasingly difficult until only The Amazing Chris Donaldson remained.

   When everyone had their fill of freshly pressed cider, the games continued. Jedi Knights dueled in the yard and climbed ropes to show their strength
. (Jedi Knights - Henry and Sam)

   “Sam, if you can climb this rope then you can be a Jedi Knight.”

   “It’s too hard,” Sam complained.
(Sam struggles)

    “If it were easy, everyone would be a Jedi,” Henry explained reasonably. Sam looked around and found a step stool. Stood on it. Jumped up. And grabbed the rope. Gleeful at having bested the master.
(Sam and his step stool)
   “That’s cheating,” Henry accused.

   “That’s right,” Sam said.

   Meanwhile, back in the kitchen Quinn struggled to interpret the Rice Crispy Treat recipe as the other girls hounded her to hurry up. After spaghetti and meatballs the girls settled in for the movie “Harry and the Hendersons” or, as it is commonly known in our home, “Life with Irish”. (Audrey, Phoebe, Liza, Quinn and Irish, who thinks he's a lap dog)
(Liza makes peace with the fact that Irish isn't going anywhere)
   Kindred spirits Henry and Sam excused themselves to play computer games upstairs.  (Sam and Bruno go upstairs)
(Two of a kind, computer boys Sam and Henry)

   Much too soon our time ended and everyone packed up their wet tennis shoes and pond-soaked socks.
(Brotherly love)

   “Henry, you’re lucky,” Sam said as he hugged Henry good-bye.

   “Why?” Henry asked.

   “Because you get to live here,” Sam said plainly.

   “Well, you can come visit any time Germaine and Kevin let you. You can come this summer or sometimes you could fly up with my dad.”

   “Really!?”

   “Really. Right, Mom?” Henry asked, wanting backup.

    “Anytime, Samma.”
    (Henry lifting a giggling Sam)

   After they left, Henry turned to me and said, "Mama, that Sam's a handful. I don't know if Daddy can handle him. Well, he is MY Daddy. I guess he's used to it, huh?"

   "Does Henry the Handful sound familiar in any way?"

October 6th Living In The Moment

   

(October!)

    An entire month has rolled by and it was time again to go to Summit, the assisted living facility. To prepare, I took Luther, Vivian and Bruno to Ferndale to see Lisa at Glacierview Animal Clinic. Bruno needed his rabies vaccination. After being weighed and discovering Bruno was a hefty 13lbs. He really doesn’t look an ounce over 7lbs.

    After I did a sweep of schools I had Quinn, Phoebe and Henry with dogs ready for our 3:15 appointment. What a difference a month makes. We weren't having popsicles outside, it was icy cold. Unfortunately, the director, Stacy wasn’t there so things were not organized like last time.
(arriving at Summit)
    I had prepared the girls on how to answer repeated questions and they were fabulous. Phoebe patiently answered, “Which dog is your favorite?” the same way maybe eight times.

    “Well, I love them all, but I’ve known Vivian and Luther the longest.” Quinn was gracious taking Vivian around asking if they wanted to pet her and assuring them she was gentle. While Phoebe took Bruno around to people’s laps. Once he landed in one lady’s lap, she wouldn’t let him go. Bruno got very comfortable and it made me wonder if they shouldn’t get a permanent dog for the facility. Not Deli.
(Phoebe & Bruno) (Phoebe shares Bruno)
(Bruno is almost stolen) (Bruno gets comfortable) (Bruno and the ladies)
    The visit was far from perfect. Bruno peed on one of the Halloween decorations and was scolded by some nurses. Vivian after an hour of being loved by the residents and eating plenty of vanilla creme cookies from one man’s room growled at a visitor to protect her new people. (the cookie man cometh - you could never get a picture of Vivian catching her cookie as there isn't a shutter speed fast enough)

Luther almost jumped in one woman's wheelchair when she offered him a cookie. And then when Henry had him on the leash he almost took one woman down when it got wrapped around her from behind. (freshly peed upon)
(Luther also got his rope wound in a woman's wheelchair)

    Henry didn’t see Franz. He waited and looked but Franz didn’t appear. So Henry anxious to see his new friend took Luther and went to his room. Franz didn’t remember him. He wondered how Henry knew so many things he knew about him. Henry told him and they had a pleasant time, but it was hard for both of them.
  (Vivian enjoys the attention)
    The truth is, I don't think anyone remembered us, but they enjoyed themselves. And we enjoyed ourselves chatting and laughing with the residents. One woman in particular captured Quinn's heart. She was funny asking Quinn all sorts of questions, telling her to play basketball and making interesting observations. They were fun to watch.

     After we left, Quinn always looking on the bright side said "Maybe it's a blessing they don't remember. Then their days don't seem all the same."

   

October 1st Are You My Mother?

(sunset on the San Juans)

    Wednesday night Quinn called me pretending I was her mother. Not being the ouch-when-kicked-under-the-table-kind-of-girl I played along with the old pretend to be Lisa trick.

    “Mom, Phoebe isn’t doing what you said. She’s reading a cereal box instead of doing her homework. AND she’s not going to bed.” Realizing instantly that Quinn, the older daughter, needed backup and being the older daughter myself, I sprang into action.

    “You want me to talk to your sister?”

    “Thanks, Mom.” Now this might not work with most people, but my sister and I sound so much alike that this was commonplace when we were in college. There was a sorority volleyball tournament in Santa Barbara I was forbidden to attend because my mother, who also happened to be going to Santa Barbara for the weekend, didn’t want my sister to be alone. Having the nerve of a burglar I went anyway, looking over my shoulder wherever I went while Lisa played both our voices on the phone each time my mother checked in.

    “Mom! Quinn is not telling you the truth! I am reading!”

    “Phoebe, listen to me. I want you to do what I told you” Having really no idea of what that might be. “And I want you to go to bed.”

    “Who is this?” Phoebe was a worthy adversary. Was I losing my touch? Were there cutesy words I was supposed to be using? My mind was racing. What would Lisa say?

    “Who is this? This is your mother. Now do what Quinn says. I don’t have time to argue. I’ve got to go back inside. Back To School Night is not over.” Click. Phew.

    Lisa called a few minutes later. I informed her I had indeed impersonated her quite tolerably and she should not out me to her youngest and most suspicious child under any circumstances whatsoever. She, having been through many a scheme with me, agreed without argument. I relayed the troublesome part of the conversation.

    “I would have said this is Mommy.”Drat. I was that close.

September 2nd The First Day

(Henry ready for 6th grade)

   

Off and on throughout the day I glanced at the clock as wondering how Henry’s first day of middle school was going. I knew it would have to be better than mine. I went to A.E. Wright Middle School in Malibu Canyon. It wasn’t a very big school back then, about 200 in each grade, but as the eldest child at a time before “school tours” were common I had never really been on campus before my first day.
(Lauren and Quinn - on the first day of 7th grade)

    I got to my homeroom with Madame Allen ok. She was to be my homeroom teacher for all three years of French. However, while I was looking for my 3rd period, Ms. Vaughn’s ESSR (English, Social Studies and Reading) class I realized I didn’t know where I was going. I studied my computer-generated schedule and looked at the numbers on the doors, but was completely lost. The bell rung and now I stood alone as one redheaded kid with braces raced by late to his class. In a panic and hopelessly shy I considered hiding until lunch. A rule follower from birth and daughter of a teacher, I gathered up the courage to ask for help from some big scary 8th grade girls loitering around the bathrooms. I approached the group respectfully knowing I was but a lowly sixth grader. One of the blondest blonds with a ponytail and crystal blue eyes stepped forward to help me. She said her name was Marlene. I was in total awe, she looked like Barbie come to life.  I pulled out my crumpled schedule and she pointed me in the right direction. Wide-eyed and grateful turned to embarrassed and angry when I realized she’d sent me to the P.E. Lockers. It took most of the period, and I had to walk sheepishly past Marlene and her friends as they cackled, but I eventually showed up to Ms. Vaughn’s class beet red, and sweaty in my brown polyester skirt set. The class fell silent and stared at me as I took the only empty seat in the room. All of them relieved not to be me. I’m just about over it.

    When Lisa, started middle school I drew her a map of all her classes and walked her from room to room. I knew Henry wouldn’t have any problem, he’d been on a school tour, he had Quinn and he wasn’t afraid of 8th graders. However, you can never underestimate the power of possible middle school humiliation. It’s lurking around every corner.
(Phoebe, Winnifred and Charlie at Jordan's- not pictured- after the first day of 3rd grade)

    Henry, he was bubbling over with excitement as he got in the car. The day was a complete success; he’d made it to every class, liked every teacher, remembered is combination. And best of all –he's allowed to chew gum.

August 15th Rolling On De River

    The day had finally arrived to go tubing! To make sure we were there on time, Tom and I made our requisite run to Lowes™ early in the day.  We also had bills to mail, taco fix'ns to buy and so we hurried. The minute we got home, we jumped in our suits, grabbed our tubes and sped down to Acme to wait for the Donaldsons.

    We blew up the tubes, got some snacks and waited. We drove to Strand Road the drop off place for the car and called them. They were going to be even later – they went a different way and got lost. We played games like “Going On a Picnic” It seems there was a miscommunication. We waited for two hours. (Tom, Henry, Sam and Kimona kill time playing games)

    By the time the properly apologetic Donaldsons arrived it was simply too late to go. We couldn’t risk being on the river after dark. And because Lisa was working at the Emergency Clinic and Chris had a business trip to New York, we didn’t think we could go on Sunday. I felt terrible. After all that preparation,  Sam and Kimona were going to miss going.

Like every Hollywood ending - All was darkest before a lady told Chris  there was a short 1/2 mile run we could do. Something was better than nothing. We hopped in. The sun was hot and the water cool. The snowy mountains peered at us from the distance as we bobbed along with the current. (Kimona give it the thumbs up)

(Henry and Sam go head first)

(Quinn trying out the boy's method)

    A few minutes into the float there was a flurry of rescheduling. We’re all going again tomorrow – except Lisa (you just can’t blow off the Emergency Clinic)

(Tired but happy Sam)

(Packing in the Pheeb)

July 31st Whooo Is He?

(Puppy to be named later)

   

    We woke up this morning without power. My first panicked thought was – did I pay the bill? – Yes. Whew. OK, so I called Puget Sound Energy and only six other homes had reported the problem despite the fact that over a 1000 home were without electricity. Apparently, this was a scheduled outage and we’d gotten a notice in the mail.

    I hate the mail. It’s like laundry so I hadn’t opened it yet. I open all the bills at once and pay them. This particular strategy works pretty well most of the time, but not today.

    I found some old coffee in the pot and heat it up on the gas stove. Desperate times.  I looked for my plastic filter holder so I could make some more, but couldn’t find it. I did find my lasagna pan broken in six pieces on the floor courtesy of Luther and friends. Now I haven’t got a lasagna pan, pretty or otherwise. I may have some glass ones I left at Lisa’s I’ll have to ask her. No matter, I went out to feed the goats. I was shocked and disappointed to find they’d left the door open all night. I walked into the dark barn slowly afraid of what I might find. Thankfully, everyone was accounted for, but Miracle was ticked off. She’d been left to wear her fly mask all night and she wasn’t happy about it. This was the kids third attempt and third failure at the barn animals. The first time the boys fed them, but didn’t let them out. The second time, the girls let them out, but didn’t feed them. This time they all went out there and I presume they fed them, but left them vulnerable all night. We were going to have to have a talk about responsibility when they woke up- if they ever woke up.

    The kids slept until noon – they got dressed and we went to town to get those pesky life vests, some air horns to keep about the property and to deliver the puppy pens the geese are no longer using to the Donaldsons. The puppy without a name arrived today.

    Of course, he is soft and sweet and snuggly and very kissy. He came from the Skagit Humane Society and seems quite happy with his new digs.

    We spent some time meeting him when he arrived, but left so Phoebe and Quinn could get to know their new dog. (names - Charlie and Cooper are being bandied about - pictured with Phoebe, Quinn and Winnifred)

    On our way home we talked about caring for the goats. The kids swear on their lives they closed the door tight. They say they're sure. I want to believe, but the door doesn't just open itself. Does it? (It never has before)

    Our local wild life expert, Kimona spotted a raccoon and a Barred Owl as she chatted about the evils of city life. A girl after my own heart. -

July 29th One Ringy Dingy - Two Ringy Dingy

(Henry & Sam - after they created facial hair with Sharpee™ and make-up - they say they are Paris Street musicians - hmm Dad?)

    Well, the boys did get made up in their sleep, and they did get alfalfa in their cereal and were just rinsing it out when the phone rang. Quinn answered it because she’s twelve and a girl of that age has supernatural phone answering abilities.

    “It’s your husband!”
(The culprits- unprepared for revenge?)
  

    “How does she always answer the phone? Does she stand there all day?” Pea asked like man who can’t fathom answering the phone at all. “I don’t have much time, we just had an earthquake it shook us pretty good. They want us in the conference room, we might have to get out of the building - you can Google™ it. I’m OK, I’ve got to go.” And he hung up.

    We did find out it was a 5.8 and looked at the map, the epicenter etc. We called the kids’ mom, but couldn’t reach her.

    Not too long later, the phone rang again. Quinn was at the pond building a "frog hotel" so the phone answering was up to me.

    “I’m OK. Everyone’s OK.” Began my sister. “We, Phoebe, Nana and I have been in a pretty significant car accident. The airbags deployed. An eighteen-year old suddenly turned in front of me in an intersection. The police are here and have already given him a ticket for not yielding to traffic. I’ve got to go.” And she hung up.

    We waited – every time the phone rang we all looked at each other. What next? It usually comes in threes. Or was Toby getting kicked out of Canada the third thing?

    The phone rang. Quinn answered it.

    “Mom! No! Ahhh, Ohhhh,” Quinn almost whimpered. And she hung up.

    “What!? What?” We all demanded.

    “We got approved for our new puppy.” She said smiling gleefully.

July 28th Ready Or Not

  (view as we drove home from gymnastics in the afternoon)

    A spectacular day with bright sunshine and cool shadows, a day to play outside a day for running, screaming, giggling, plotting and planning: Hide & Seek tag was on!

    Quinn and Kimona, the masterminds of the game, certainly had an unfair advantage: they’re a year older and – well, they’re girls. The boys however, aren’t stupid so don’t feel too sorry for them. The rules were simple

1. Each team of two must stay together.

2. Each team must have a noisemaker of some kind. A cowbell or air horn – to give up or in case of trouble.

3. No hiding in the bushes or grass so that you look like easy prey.

4. No large farm equipment such as the tractor may be used.

Team Girl: Quinn (12) and Kimona (13) were the first to seek. They had to wait ten minutes in the house with me while I was getting my lasagna going while Team Boy: Sam (12) and Henry (11) went to hide.

    While the girls were waiting, it became clear that the game had already started. It seems the two of them had been lurking in corners eavesdropping while the boys were looking for a pair of walkie-talkies.  They felt certain the boys were headed to the pond and it would be a snap to get them. But just in case they devised a fake list in a notebook they were going to leave on the counter of pretend places they might hide. This way when the boys went looking for them, they’d be safely tucked away somewhere else.
  (OK - they can't spell - but that's not everything.)

    Well, it seemed like a good plan as I listened, nodded and grated the mozzarella. After searching high and low for my good Portmeirion™ lasagna, pan I vaguely remembered my father had accidentally broken it when he used it as a makeshift dog dish. Time was up and I sent them on their way.  I put the sundried tomatoes on top covered the pan with foil and shoved it in the oven, and went outside to find Wayne in the shop with Kristi.
  (Cleveland, Mabel, Clara, Lloyd, Mathilda, Ruthie, Alfred & Quackmire assess Wayne and Kristi's progress)

Wayne has decided he likes the cut of our cloth. Which means he asked if he fix up our attic and move in for a while as he gets back on his feet – he’s getting divorced. Hmm. Let’s see. He cooks, cleans, organizes, drywalls, knows how to do electrical work, paints houses, builds things, dabbles in plumbing is a nice guy, can shoot a gun, brings us fresh crab and spontaneously does things like clears out the brush by the pond so the kids won’t be cougar cookies. Well, ok. Maybe I can suffer through it.

Anyway, Kristi and Wayne were clearing out the shop, so Wayne can build a wood rack and fit his table saw in Tom’s shop. Just then we were approached by two very smug boys.

“We lost them.”

“What?” Kristi inquired.

“The girls. We hid in the boat in the middle of the pond and they couldn’t get us. They even tried to trick us by leaving and changing their clothes so they could come in after us. But it didn’t work. We got away.”

Just as I was introducing Sam to Kristi, two screaming girls came rounding the bend.

“There they are!! Get ‘em!” Bellowed Quinn as both she and Kimona began almost yipping. The boys took a horrified look over their shoulders and raced away with girls in hot pursuit.

    The shop continued to be organized and the lasagna baked. Until a somber group came in the door a long time later. It was Quinn who started talking.

“OK, let me tell you what happened.”

“Is everyone OK. Tell me that first.”

“Yes. Everyone is all right now."

“OK. What happened?”

“Well, we thought the boys were pretty smart using the boat in the pond, so we did the same thing. Only. Henry pretended Sam had ditched him and he went on how the game was over and we started to feel sorry for him.” Quinn rattled off very quickly as only a radio announcer and a middle school girl can.

“Henry’s a pretty good actor, so we believed him.” Interjected Kimona.

At this point, I started wondering what the problem was, were they going to complain about Henry’s playing the game in a “Survivor-like-way"? And where was Henry? He hadn’t come in yet.

“Well, we saw Sam hiding in the bushes and Henry gave us a long explanation how Sam had betrayed him and they weren’t working together anymore and we believed him again.” (Gullible) “Then Henry started swimming out to get us and suddenly he seemed to be having trouble and couldn’t keep his head above the water.”

“What? Where is he?” 

Just then Sam and Henry walked in the door. Henry was in some of Quinn's dry clothes but very shaken up. Quinn continued, “Well we thought he was faking again and he started asking for help. When we realized, he was serious we yelled for Sam, but Sam had already figured it out and was diving in the water. Sam pushed Henry to the dock and rescued him.”

“Mom, I got so cold in the water, I couldn’t move my arms or legs very well.”

“And you’re a terrible swimmer Honey. We’ve got to get you some more lessons. You never want to take swimming seriously, but it’s really important.”

“Sam saved me.”

“Thanks Sam." I said with my whole heart. "I’d really miss him if he were gone. I’ve grown used to this little punk. It’s forty minutes to the hospital, my lasagna would have been ruined.”

“MOMMMM! I was really, really, really scared.” Henry whined almost crying as he wrapped his arms around me. I could feel his cold skin and see the fear in his eyes.

“I’m sure you were Honey. I’m scared just hearing about it. I can’t think about you being seriously hurt. Do you remember the 4th of July four years ago? I can’t think those thoughts. We’re going to have to leave life preservers and some other equipment by the pond if you guys are going to be playing there. But we’re all clear – NO ONE pretends to be hurt or injured."  I could kick myself. I just had all the kids trying on lifejackets for tubing - earlier today in Fred Meyer™. I should have bought them instead of waiting to see if I could get them cheaper somewhere else.

“We just thought he was the-little-boy-who-cried-wolf. When we finally figured out it was real, we yelled to Sam.”

“This isn’t Sam’s first rescue. Remember Mom, he dove in and saved his little sister too.”

“ I remember, that was about two years ago right?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey Sam, I’m a horrible swimmer. Thanks for saving my life. Want a marshmallow? Oh and Quinn, winner picks the movie. And we won.”

(Wearing Pea's t-shirts, the girls plot)
There was some arguing, but the girls conceded almost too easily. As they walked out with Wayne, Abbey and me to close up the barn animals, I heard them whispering about short sheeting bed, putting nail polish and sparkle blush on the boys while they sleep.

“How about if we put the little alfalfa goat pellets in their cereal in the morning?” Kimona wondered.
(Kimona and Abbey herd geese while Wayne watches)

July 27th Abbey Road

The weekend flew by.

   Since Kristi moved in to Grandpa Horn's old apartment, she hasn't had a good night's sleep. It appears there were a few squatters already in the apartment. Kristi really didn't want to use traps or poison. This left ferret pee as the only option from what she told me. I was a little taken aback you could actually purchase ferret pee. Exactly how do they collect that? I'm thinking it's not good for the ferret. Looking for a way to make some spare change I told her I'd sell her some of Henry's. In lieu of this, I suggested we enlist the services of Emmett.

    Emmett is fierce, he runs the house and he is the only thing Irish has the good sense to be truly afraid of.

(Irish and Emmett meet in the kitchen)
  (Emmett asks that Irish bow to the king)
(Emmett begins to turn his back in disdain)
(Irish realizes he is supposed to do the full body bow which seems to satisfy Emmett- for now)

Henry packed a cat carrier poured some litter in and sent the assassin over for the night. By morning, he had presented Kristi with his prize on the kitchen counter. I would have been grossed out, but Kristi praised him as a hero and now she and Olie are sleeping just fine.

The assasin demonstrates his prowess)

   

On Saturday, Toby arrived with Dean and two bleary-eyed stowaways, Sam and his sister Kimona. Sam and Henry were like peas and carrots when they both went to Woodland Hills Elementary. So Henry begged me to beg his mother, Julie, to let him come up and stay for a few days or a few weeks or a few months or forever. We threw the lovely Kimona in for good measure and it’s a good thing; Kimona was the only one who helped me feed the animals in the morning while the two boys stood around grinning and punching each other.

(Evil Evelyn has a party out in the pasture with a couple of deer - Abe and Andy join in - my neighbors wave to her, but the deer are unimpressed)

   Toby and Dean only spent the night on the way back to Canada after working on a few episodes of “Monk”.  They took off just after breakfast. She was heading to Trader Joes™ to stock up on some goodies before crossing the border and catching the ferry back to Vancouver Island. She called after crossing the border and you know my feelings about he border. It had taken her over an hour and forty-five minutes. I thought she was calling to complain about the international red tape. To my complete surprise, she was calling me to tell Canada had given her two weeks to pack up her house and leave the country. The whole thing is very complicated, but the long and the short of it is – she and her husband were on work permits. Their farm isn’t doing well financially, so she left the country to “work”, however she’s not allowed to get another job. It gets complicated, but Canada feels that despite the fact their not really earning money they are “working” on the farm and that permit has expired – anyway there are other factors, but in the end, none of it matters. I think we were both in shock.
(child labor- Kimona, Sam and Henry)

    Back here, we all walked around in a daze reeling from Toby’s news and wondering where they’ll go and what they'll do. They won’t have time to sell their house or anything. We’d have to think about that later, we had to get a round bale down the cows. We all thought it would be a little tricky because it was unwrapped, but we wound chicken wire around the bale and the four of us, Sam, Kimona, Henry and I pushed the bale over and got it loaded.

(taking a break-) (Henry and Sam hitch a ride with Lu)

(Kimona gets to know Abe, Andy & Anna)

(Sam learns the meaning of "dialing" a number- shocked and confused, he asks for help)

    The rest of the day was clearing out the attic, feeding the cows’ cookies, and laughing at the geese. The kids went fishing with dogs while our friend Wayne worked hard all day clearing brush away so no pesky predators could get too close to our unsuspecting cougar snacks Henry, Sam, Kimona and Quinn.

July 20th Our Big Backyard

(Craig heads out to the field)

   

More work and more trips to Lowes™ and Wayne back for more made this day seem like any other day except for when the entertainment committee arrived, our neighbors Kristi and Stan. They came roaring up in their big shiny truck with food. For no particular reason, they sat on the edge of their truck as we worked and chatted. NASCAR, drag racing, tubing (down the river) and guns were mainstays of the conversation. We’re talking serious county. I asked Stan if he wanted a beer and he said “No. I have one in the truck.” (Stan)

(Craig gone native)

    These are two are salt of the Earth. The type of people you call in an emergency and you know, no matter what time it is, they’ll be there. Kristi and Stan laugh easily, feel as comfortable as an old pair of work boots and you don’t have to fuss. They’re people who know who they are, in fact they knew each other only eight weeks when they got married. When it’s right it’s right.

   

Unfortunately they had other plans and couldn’t stay for our barbecue out by the pond. Just as they were about to leave, Annie, Quinn, Phoebe and Winifred showed up. Tom whipped up his father’s chicken recipe that’s being handed down through the family and we didn't dally getting our party going -"shee-it"

 after all it's Saturday Night. (Tom, Annie, Craig and Wayne - seated)

Our last but not least important guests didn’t travel far, for our barbecue at the pond. Kristi (another one) and Olie (short for Olerud- Kristi is a baseball fan) her dog a Katrina Rescue walked over from their new home in Grandpa Horn’s old place, which means I finally have a neighbor lady – like on Califa Street when I had Anice and Nona.
(Annie watches the meal being prepared by the menfolk)
    We gorged on chicken, corn, watermelon (ala ‘Big Lu” with Pico de Gallo and lemon), potato salad and fresh crab Wayne caught out of the bay the other day. While the kids fished, the pack of dogs played and we sat enjoying the day turn into evening.
  (Wayne's dog - Abbey showing all the other pups how it's done) (Phoebe & Henry go fishing)
  (Perplexed Henry actually catches a fish as vegetarian Quinn screams "throw it back before you kill it's little trout spirit" and Phoebe shrieks for no real reason other than it seems called for)

    Annie and I noticed smoke. We were all amused to find out it was a campsite. Our pond is close to one of our property lines and there were campers on the adjoining vacant land. It felt absurd to be in your backyard and  see people really camping not just kids pitching a tent in the neighbors yard, but really truly “getting away from it all”.  I feel extremely lucky.

(There is so much stuff and so many dogs - Wayne drives the food back to the house with Craig and Quinn following behind)

July 18th Sunrise - Sunset

(seagull on point)

We all got up early and fed the animals, had coffee and showed Craig around. Instead of jumping right into our usual project mode, we decided we should take a day to just be a family. We stopped at the new café on Mt. Baker Highway (that used to be “Carol’s Coffee Cup” and then “Carol’s Girls”) for lunch, sat out on the patio enjoying the sunshine and Pellegrino™. Afterward we headed into to do some kayaking off Chuckanut Hwy, the PCH.

Lisa and Chris bought a sea kayak and its just a short jaunt from their house to Larrabee State Park where there is a small boat ramp. Craig and Tom donned their life vests on and hoisted the kayak on Chris’s Honda™ Element and in two shakes of a lamb’s tail they were off on their sea adventure. Henry and I too were off - to his eleven-year-old routine physical. I’d waited a month for this appointment and I wasn’t going to give it up for love or money. So we looked on the bright side and thought this would give Tom and Craig to have some father/son time before we returned. Not that they needed it as they drive to and from work together an hour and a half each way every day, but a rationalization is a rationalization and it was working for me. And Henry.

The physical went like most do, a cough here a shot there, but there was one notable exception. A frustrated nurse complained while taking Henry’s blood pressure that the sleeve was too small for his muscle, she’d have to get an adult-sized one. A sly smile crossed Henry’s face and hung there for a long time. He was so proud.

(Self Portrait)

We called when we were on our way back. Tom and Craig were having a great time tooling around the bay watching all the crabbers empty their pots.
(Craig, Henry & Proud Pea)

It was then the brothers went out together while Tom and I sat on the beach enjoying the sand, squirrels, seagulls and constant boat traffic. The boat dock wasn’t empty once while we sat there. Tom said it was busier than SeaTac. The crabbers would pull in set their traps and leave for a while and then come back and pick up their traps. It’s a wonder there is any crab left in Bellingham Bay.

(Henry & Craig) (more brotherly love)

Our next stop was Quinn and Phoebe’s Broadway Extravaganza. A grand finale for the singing camp the girls attended - given by BAAY (Bellingham Arts Academy for Youth) on State Street. We were a little late and Lisa text me there was limited seating so Craig and Henry went on a walk around town headed in the direction of Mallard’s Ice Cream while Tom and I went in expecting to endure the performance. Instead, we were bowled over by some of the performances. Not all were fabulous, but all were wonderful. The very idea the kids had the confidence to get up in front of an audience and sing. I can tell you right now I lip sync in church.

(Quinn -12 and Phoebe 7)

(Quinn & Phoebe with David Post)
The director, David Post is certainly teaching kids confidence and stage presence. Neither Tom nor I could believe seven-year-old Phoebe standing on stage singing a solo. Quinn! Well, she doesn’t look twelve in my old sequin dress leftover from a bazillion years ago. She was frustrated because she didn’t have time to memorize the lyrics to one of her songs, “Hear the Bells” and so she was rushed and didn’t feel she did at all well on that song.  I was frustrated I couldn’t get any good camera angles. (may Caleb Deschanel  forgive me - my camera and editing work film is far below par, but the girls are sweet).

The girls pestered me at intermission about where Henry was and why he was missing their show, but they were happy he was spending time with Craig.

When we finally got home, the evening proved to be just beginning as Craig came prepared with “Talladega Nights”. Henry popped it in the DVD and we all sat down for family movie night. Imagine my surprise when Karen roared on the screen – a wild  cougar.

I may have forgotten to mention but our doorbell has about 50 different “rings” and one of them is a cougar snarl. Henry has found it great fun to “ring” the doorbell when he feels I’m at my most vulnerable.

July 13th There's Always One

(Henry is sick to death of this project)
Saturday evening, the girls decided to brave it and come out. Well, they didn’t really decide, Henry promised to bake them cookies and guilted them into it. He called from the car while we were at Home Depot™ picking up supplies for our next project. He played Quinnlike a fiddle until she couldn’t stand it anymore and was packing her bag. She said “I can stand up to a lot of people, but not when my cousin starts with the lovey-dovey stuff.” Honestly, I’m not sure if he missed Quinn and Phoebe or was sick of being out here with alone with boring old me.

The evening was filled with flour, shortening and Tom Hanks, but in the morning it was back to work, painting fence posts in anticipation of Tom and Craig’s arrival. Of course, the geese felt they could and should contribute their two cents. Naturally, there was lemonade and lots of resting in the shade as Luther is the foreman. (Luther and Quackmire inspect the work)

In the thick of it is Quackmire. It’s always Quackmire going after Luther’s tail, climbing on top of things, or the last to go back in the pen. (bill full of paint, Quackmire tells Phoebe to get back to work) (Phoebe gets Quackmire with a kiss)
(Quackmire is always in the middle of everything) (Lu's had enough & gets Quackmire to lift off)

(Quackmire goes too far)

June 28th For The Love Of Lu

(Barbara & Kaylee)

    For the last several days I’ve been painting Maryruth’s room, trying to spruce it up, because my friend, Barbara and her ten-year-old daughter Kaylee arrive today from Santa Clarita, California. Barbara and I have known each other since college, I pledged AOII and she pledged TriDelt, which means she’s much sweeter than I am. I like her anyway. She is the only person I buy Diet Pepsi™ for- she drinks about 12 a day, probably her only vice.

    I’ve been cleaning like a whirling dervish, teaching Henry the virtues of being German. We’ve cleaned the shower crevices with Q-tips™, stacked papers neatly and threw away things we couldn’t figure out where to put them. I even found my cookbook holder packed away in a box I’d never considered looking in. We swept, vacuumed and mopped dog hair – they don’t have a pet let a lone four dogs and four cats. They wear black. I didn’t want them to be disappointed with their choice of vacations when they arrived at some doggy-smelling-house. Nasty.

    (Vivian in her usual position all snuggled up)

(Scarlett in the Game Room)

    Lisa and Chris planned a surprise barbecue for Barb with smoked salmon appetizers. Unfortunately, Barbara and Kaylee missed their connection because the Alaska flight left early. I didn’t know planes did that, but they did twice. So went to Lisa’s for dinner while Barb dined at SeaTac.

    My cleaning mission re-injured my back, so I self medicated with a glass of cabernet and sank into a chair while we all watched “National Treasure 2”. It reminded me how obsessed my class got with the Lincoln Assassination - Mary Surratt – the first woman executed by the United States and her son Johnny who escaped hanging. I was so relaxed I couldn’t believe it, when I looked down and realized Barbara would be landing in about fifteen minutes. Henry and I flew out of the house and headed for the airport it was around 11:45PM. We thought we’d make it just in time after all Bellingham International isn’t that far. The phone rang. It was Lisa, she’d checked Barbara’s flight and sure enough the flight had left and landed early. I guess they’re trying to improve their on time record.

    We eventually collected them at the airport. Smiling and waving there were hugs and very heavy luggage. Barbara apparently did not realize there is not a lot of fashion that happens on the farm. We drove home chatting all the way.

    Once home, we ate Henry’s too thin rock hard brownies he’d prepared in their honor and introduced Kaylee to Zoo Tycoon™. Fast friends they were busy as we were catching up until at least 2:30AM.

    The next morning was filled with coffee and laughter. I could tell there was a cute girl in the house because Henry brushed his teeth without being asked. Barbara emerged as she did every morning shampooed, blown-dry, immaculate and in full make-up smelling of perfume. (a serious mosquito attractant).

     Henry introduced Kaylee to all the animals and she took a zillion pictures with her new camera. They went to the pond and played while incapable of sitting down Barbara did my dishes and cleaned my kitchen while we discussed life’s ups and downs as well as people we heard about or ran into over years – past boyfriends, louses, spouses and why her friend Sylvia chose TriDelt over AOII when I "prefed” her. I’m still bitter.
(Henry & Abe) (Quinnderella (12) , Stinkerbell (7), Kaylee(10), Irish (11 months) & Henry(11)

    The girls came over and the imaginary games began. Henry spearheaded a trip to my father’s vacant apartment armed with loads of his almost forgotten stuffed animals ranging from sting rays to platypus’ and began playing “Zoo”. They positioned them on the sofa in the bathtub over a lamp and Kaylee took pictures. The dogs were then recruited against their will.  In the first round Deli was relegated to an alligator, Luther was an African Bumblebee and Vivian was somehow transformed into a snow leopard. In the second round Deli was a seal, Luther a duck and Vivian a hippopotamus.  Irish eats stuffed animals so he wasn’t invited to play. Barbara and I took off on a walk and as we walked away, the last we heard was “Henry it’s your turn to be the mother.”

“I don’t’ want to be the mother why do I have to be the mother?”

“No one wants to be the mother.”
(Phoeb & Kaylee wash Rachel) (Denise sneaks a bath for Miracle)

(Kaylee pulls Phoebe down Coyote Hill) (Phoebe & Kaylee scatter the goats as they sled down Coyote Hill)

The next few days were filled with the same, washing of goats, watering the garden, tractor rides, more brownies, air rifle target practice, lunch at the beer shrine, (Phoebe orders a little piece of pizza)

(Snow at Mount Baker)

(Nooksack River)

(Cougar Print by the Nooksack River)
  (Barbara up in Glacier taking a picture of the ski fence)

a drive to the snow at Mount Baker, ice cream, movies, wild flower bouquets and long talks. We didn’t really “do” anything no projects no “activities” but we still didn’t seem to be able to get ourselves to go to bed before 1:00or 2:00 AM. We ate a lot – Barbara says it’s the all the stars and fresh air. I’m going to have to tell my Jenny Craig™ counselor friend Kristy that one. I rested my back as we talked about times past, love and loss, money, divorce, happiness, change, my mother, her mother, our fathers, and wrinkle cream.
  (Luther watches the goats)

  (Luther gets a turn) (Irish cools off under the dock)
    In honor of my mother we analyzed everyone's sun sign, moon and opened Linda Goodman's "Love Signs" to determine everyone's perfect match. Lucky for Tom - she says we're compatible.

    When at last our time was about up, Kaylee was blue. She started her goodbye tour of the animals the night before, but when she was about to leave her eyes were filled with tears, not because of me or Henry the girls or even farm life. It was Lu; he’d captured her heart. He's a cad that way, Henry and I are sure there would be world peace if everyone had a basset hound so we introduced them to www.daphneyland.com in Acton they showed some interest in Buford.

    Naturally Luther went with us to the airport to say goodbye or we’d have heard Luther's agonizing  “death howl” and frankly Kaylee couldn’t have taken that kind basset manipulation. Snuggled up next to Kaylee on the seat with his ears flopped over her legs his head hanging down in a truly un-natural position (just the way he likes it) he wooed her in his own Luther way. Everyone got out and hugged good-bye –except Henry and Kaylee who said that hugging each other was just too weird.

    As I watched our first visitors from home disappear into the airport terminal I noticed they were covered in dog hair.

     

June 15th Wishin' & Hopin' & Thinkin' & Prayin'

Having rolled out of bed, Henry and I slopped through the wet grass to the car at about 6:30 AM, loading Tom’s suitcases while he finished a few last minute things and wrote a host of instructions for me regarding a myriad of projects.

On the way to the airport, we listened to Sissy Spacek drawl “To Kill A Mockingbird”. No one wanted to admit we were going to have to say goodbye. Again.

We stopped at Starbucks™ and picked up a couple of coffees. Tom insists on going through his medium routine.

    “You mean a Grande, Sir?”
    “A medium black coffee.” He delivers this with a straight face.
    “A Grande.”
    “A medium.”
    “I think you want a Grande.”
    “I want the medium-size coffee.”
    “Any flavoring?”
    “Just a medium black coffee.”

    The baristas get a little nervous and confused, but he won’t play. He stands there deadpan, firmly ordering his medium coffee. He’s always been this way – he says. But I remember back when he used to brew “Irish Crème”.

    “I don’t like those fruffity-doofity drinks”

    We sat sipping our mediums in front of the airport terminal. Henry had made a huge rhyming card covered in tools, which ended by suggesting Tom might want to change Henry’s name to DeWalt™(a power tool brand).

    When the inevitable came and Tom got out of the car and we were ready for a weepy parting of the hearts Tom spotted some guy in a NASCAR shirt. Suddenly, he was giving the guy garbage about his driver versus Tom’s driver in his “team” over my shoulder as he hugged me goodbye. Henry rolled his eyes and said, “That’s my dad; he’ll talk to anyone about NASCAR.” True. He hasn’t been into NASCAR for very long, but once his son, Craig, got into it Tom made a Herculean effort to find out about it and somewhere along the way he got completely addicted. I could see him still yucking it up with the guy in the NASCAR shirt in my rearview mirror as we drove off.

    We just made a quick stop at Home Depot for a few cans of paint to paint the guest room and a can of spray paint. We're going to outline the new walkway Henry and I decided we have to have. We've gotten our feet wet one too many times. Resolved, we headed home to do chores and clean up. (proposed outline)
One father down and one to go, we were actually putting on some town clothes and heading back into Bellingham to watch my dad play at Boundary Bay Brewery.

    Henry couldn’t sit in the bar so we hooked him up with a chair just on the other side of the divider where he could see his grandpa. I sipped my glass of wine and watched my father perform as I’ve done so many times before. This time was different. He looked distracted and a bit sad. I could tell he really wasn’t recovered enough to play, but that never stops him. I watched and realized why he wanted to go back to Paris so much. Although he really enjoys the other musicians, they don’t play a lot of traditional jazz. For the first time I understood what he was talking about. I only hope he can go.

My favorite memory of Father’s Day isn’t of my dad, Tom or even my grandfather, it’s of Chris. Years ago, Lisa, Chris, Quinn and Henry were driving around in the Valley heat on Father’s Day looking at houses - Phoebe wasn’t even born yet. We’d spent the day in and out of places and Chris finally complained he was starving and it was, after all, Father’s Day, didn’t that mean anything?  Lisa promptly drove through McDonalds™ and ordered up some food. When all was said and done, poor Chris crumpled up in the back seat had to share his cold fries with both kids. He’s a damn good sport.

Lisa, Chris and the girls strolled in out of the sunshine. Tired of sitting by himself, Henry and the girls got their own table in the back – we tried to order fries for both tables– now the traditional Father’s Day food in the Donaldson home. They didn’t have any. Chris was able to console himself with the sampler platter.
 

Boundary Bay - 2008

June 13th A Good Time

   (Henry's teacher's gift)

    This morning I woke up very early and began trolling dew-covered ditches, hillsides and the pond for wildflowers. My trusty companion, Irish, trotted along next to me chewing on my reject pile. When I was done I was soaked, but I had created Henry’s teacher’s gift. I couldn’t afford much, but I picked up the vase at TJ MAXX™ for a song.

Creativity, I am convinced, is born of poverty. When I bought my first home I couldn’t really afford to do much, but I couldn’t stand it the way it was, so I had to get creative. I ripped out the bathroom and went around collecting broken tile from different stores – stuff they were going to discard. Toby and I went to Home Depot™ and got a little pamphlet on how to tile and set to improving my bathroom. Much to everyone’s surprise – especially my mother’s -  it looked fabulous. Thus I realized, if I’d had the money, I never would have gone to the trouble.

The day has rambled on. Henry had his “fifth grade culmination”, which was actually a small award assembly. He went on to a swim party on Lake Whatcom while Tom and I raced back to the house to get ready for our celebratory barbecue. With barely a word to each other we furiously tidied, cleaned, marinated and set up tables.

We’d decided to have our dinner out by the pond so we could enjoy the evening, rain or shine, thanks to our covered pavilion. This meant hauling Tom’s new half-gas half-briquette grill out there in the truck. He loves it because it looks like a steam locomotive.

Meanwhile, Mike and my father are down at the hospital in Mt. Vernon. My father is having a biopsy for bladder cancer. It is an outpatient procedure so he should be home by this evening. Mike’s happy because he can sit and read while he waits and avoid having to clean the house. He calls in every few hours to update us on my father’s condition. “He’s still sleeping” seems to sum it up.

    The  “guests”, meaning Lisa, Chris, Annie, Quinn, Phoebe and Henry, as well as Diane, Jordan and Lauren all arrived late. Thank the Lord.

    Despite our best efforts, we haven’t gotten the Mosquito Magnets™ up and running so we scattered tiki torches filled with Citronella™ around. This was not terribly effective, but we made do.

    Just after everyone arrived, my tired-but-otherwise-OK father arrived with Mike. A few more guests also made an appearance. Lloyd, Matilda, Quackmire, Cleveland, Clara, Ruthie, Alfred and Mabel waddled up for their first swim in the pond. They’ve turned out to be very clingy. These geese don’t like to be left alone and always want to be where the action is. Once they arrived we all held our breath waiting to see them frolic in the pond. They didn’t. They hated the pond and were afraid of the water. Apparently, I have the only geese this side of the Mississippi with hydrophobia. We tried putting them in the water to show them how wonderful it is, but they would just flap wildly, squawking frantically until they reached land once more. Confused, stunned and full of disbelief, we left them to their own devices, not wanting to emotionally scar them. After that they flapped contentedly around the party, coming in the pavilion to check on Tom’s cooking and say hello. Weirdoes. (Lisa giving swimming lessons to Cleveland) (more lessons)

    Little Chris Donaldson showed up with Roxy, Andrea (a new girlfriend he’s had a crush on since the sixth grade), and he also brought a surprise guest – his horse. He trailered “Oz” over for Henry to ride as a present. (Little Chris & Andrea)

(Henry on Oz)

    All in all, our first summer evening was relaxed and wonderful. The kids walked the goats and rode the tractor, played badminton and floated in the boat while we ate Tom's delicious ribs, cosmic beans, corn and watermelon, sipped my sangria and downed Diane’s brownies. (Jordan and her mother - Diane)

May 27th Paul Revere Rides Again

(Henry as the silversmith fraternizing with a British Regular - after the class play)

    Lately, my life seems to revolve around getting to things like school plays, middle school orientations and job interviews. All I can say is that I get there.

    I got to Henry's school history play. It was hard for me to watch. Oh it  was cute and they did a nice job, but I wanted to be up there rehearsing them and explaining why a certain line was so important. It's the details. It's all in the details. I wanted them to get excited about what they were performing not just because it was a play but because it was real. and it changed all our lives. Maybe they understood all that and I just didn't feel it.

    When my son rode in yelling, "The British are coming! The British are coming!" It killed me.

     Paul Revere never said that. Everyone was British. He said, "The regulars are coming." And in my mind Billy Dawes was more of the story, but then no one asked me.

    You see, I'm bitter because I'd offered to do a movie on location at Fort Flashback and teach the history lessons to coincide, but they chose this instead, so I have my nose way out of joint.

After the play, I asked Henry about the line.

    "Henry, you know when you said "The British. . .

    "Are coming? Mom! I know. Paul Revere never said that."

     "Did I tell you that? Or did you learn it in school?"

    "Oh MY GOSH MOM! I remember it from when you took me to Boston and saw Billy Dawes grave and I read it when you had me read "Johnny Tremain" and you've told me only one hundred million times."

    "Oh, I didn't know you were listening."

    "Mom. They wanted me to say it even though it was wrong."

    "Why?"

    "I have no idea. They said just say it that way."

    "OK. Well, nice job honey."


    After that, I went to the middle school orientation. fashionista Quinn, bless her heart had called and left me a message that this would probably be a sort of "dress-up event" so I shouldn't come in my coveralls. She didn't want me to arrive and be embarrassed. I greatly appreciate her looking out for me, but I was under no circumstances going to show up looking like I had just mucked a stall. I was in fact dressed as though I could have worked at a bank. My toes had a fresh top coat and I carried a matching bag to my sandals.

    I couldn't help be reminded of a conversation I had with my aunt Sabina (my mother's sister) when I was in high school. Sabina was a Mexican serape and clog wearing kind of aunt. She had a motorcycle for a time and laughed a lot. She told me she wore nothing but heels and suits for a long time. Fingering the clothes in my closet the way experienced shoppers do, she turned to me. "Little Denise, you won't believe this now, but there will be a day when you'll leave the house without make-up in your sweats and you won't care." I laughed mentally vowing this would not be so. I would not turn into Sabina. I would care. Always. Oh how the mighty have fallen. My thoughtful niece was gently telling me not to show up to a school event covered in cow manure. Was Sabina a gifted seer or just a woman over forty?

    Giggly, smiley Quinn was a 6th grade parent tour guide during our introduction to middle school. Relief was written all over her face when she saw me. I looked OK. She came up and crumpled her 5'7" body over me while she quietly warned me there was only one kid I wasn’t to get as my tour guide because he is a big jerk. Of course, she jinxed me and I got him. I thought he and his tour guide assistant were both cute as buttons. Naturally, I was probably getting the Eddie Haskell treatment, but I don’t care.

    In general, I was quite pleased with a lot of what I saw. But raw from the afternoon’s play I was ready to pounce on the history social studies instruction. Or lack of it - once again, social studies and history seemed to be the poor stepchildren of the academic curriculum. When we got to what the teachers taught - I found they each specialized in either language arts, science or math, but they all taught history. I guess that's the easy one after all everyone knows about the "Midnight Ride of Paul Revere".