Of late

We were driving home one night and Silver Lake was full of floating lanterns:

Every once in awhile, for no explained reason, the world is just a little bit magical.

Also, I have officially Thelma-proofed by computer.  

Braeden and some of his friends skipped school last week to go to the Seahawks parade in Seattle.   Emma wanted to go too but I didn't think that could be true.  She admitted she didn't really want to go to Seattle, she just didn't want to go to school.

I insisted she stay home with me then.

Let the other kids catch up.  (This is what happens when your mom is a recovering home schooler.)  I am happiest when my kids are home.

Or at Alfy's for lunch with me.

Just look at those virtuous plates of salad.  Despite the occasional truancy, I'm not a 100% terrible mother.

Mark and I went on a date while the rest of our people went on a youth temple trip.  Mark is a good date.  He is funny and pleasant and...organized.  He mapped out the agenda.  (Also he didn't mind when I got lost temporarily.  In Snohomish.  I don't want to talk about it except I'm really not the type of person that should go a different way that I think may be faster...) Essentially we just ran errands which is pretty much normal life but some of the errands were for sheer pleasure so that elevates it all to date status I think.

Mark was patient enough to accompany me to a few of my favorite stores in Snohomish.

We found some statements we could get behind:

We walked through the antique mall that is sort of a glorified garage sale.  It is always fun to look.  I found this cookie jar:

It reminded me of one my parents have/used to have?  (Do you still have it?)  My parents' is cuter and it sometimes had wheat in it (my dad--he likes wheat) or peanuts.  I don't remember cookies being in it that often.  I don't think cookies last long enough to make it to a cookie jar.  (My mom makes good cookies.)

We were going to have dinner at one of our favorite hamburger places, The Blazing Onion, but the line was huge.  I promised Mark we'd go another day, at lunch time.

Because really, Mark and I sort of have a date every day.

We went to the Arby's drive thru instead.  He gave me one of his curly fries.  (Usually one fry is plenty for me...unless it's sweet potato fries.  I love those guys.)

I guess this is all just to say:

“Sometimes, the simple things are more fun and meaningful than all the banquets in the world ...”

E.A. Bucchianeri

I have more issues than Vogue*

On Friday night we watched the opening ceremonies of the Olympics.  I love the Olympics and the opening ceremonies is one of my favorite parts.  I started to get uncomfortable though.  In the cultural presentation portion, when they were celebrating Russia's history, I started feeling uneasy during the part about the Soviets.    Our kids thought my reaction was odd so I told them about Mrs. Callahan.

Mrs. Callahan was my fifth grade teacher.  She reminds me of a character from a Roald Dahl book.  She was mean and tyrannical and gave a lot of homework (way more than I had in high school).  It seems like maybe she could be the type of strict teacher that once you got through her crusty exterior she had a heart of gold and loved children and teaching, but I never felt that way.  I was afraid of her.  And also I didn't like all the homework.

She smoked like a train and was overweight and really unhealthy.  She had a blood clot in her leg and missed a good portion of the school year when I was in 5th grade.  I felt like it was the best thing that could have happened to me.  Mrs. Dalton was our substitute.  Mrs. Dalton was benevolent and kind.  She read us novels (Mrs. Callahan actually got mad when she found out) and she didn't give us all the homework Mrs. Callahan wanted us to have.  The principal would come into the room and solemnly tell us how Mrs. Callahan was doing and that she'd still be gone for awhile and I tried to feign concern but I felt like I'd been given a stay of execution.  Mrs. Callahan's illness made me happy.

My clearest memory of 5th grade is the day Mrs. Callahan decided to tell us about the Cold War.  I don't know why she felt compelled to do so.  I don't know if it was somehow related to our curriculum?  I remember her sitting at her podium and telling us about the Russians.  They were coming for us.  They had nuclear weapons and we had nuclear weapons and they were pointed at each other.  She told us that the president had a button in his office and that he could push it at any time and essentially, the world would end.

She also told us that Seattle was a big city and that Russia would certainly target Seattle.  She told us we got our weather from Seattle so we would get the nuclear fallout.

(Now that I live in Seattle, it is plain to see not all the weather here makes it to the desert of northeastern Nevada...)

I started having nightmares about Russians landing at our school.  They'd chase us down and torture us with ice picks.  (Mrs. Callahan didn't supply the ice picks, my imagination did.)

I remember practicing the piano one afternoon and crying from the sheer terror of it all.

I eventually made it out of 5th grade.  The Cold War ended and we've reached a somewhat strained peace with Russia.  The world's not going to end with Russians landing in the playground and chasing me.  Friday night I had scary dreams though, they were vague but the Bad Guys in the dreams all had Russian accents.

Intellectually, I'm not afraid of Russians anymore but there may be a scared 5th grader in me that is still a little terrorized.

Thank you Mrs. Callahan.


*I can't take credit for this title.  I saw it on pinterest and it tickled my fancy.

Books I read in January 2014

Wildflower by Mark Seal***

Wildflower is a biography about Joan Root.  She was of English descent and was born and raised in Kenya.  She was a wonderfully capable woman and lived a full life as a safari leader and filmmaker and naturalist.  Towards the end of her life she worked hard to preserve a lake she loved and to protect the habitat from poachers and pollution.  It ended up getting her brutally murdered which was very sad.  This book was fascinating and made me mad at the same time.  Her husband was a cad and didn't deserve her undying love but he had it.

Eric Liddell by Janet and Geoff Benge***

I don't record all the books Mark and I read together but I liked this one.  It was an interesting story about an impressive and good man.  All I knew about Eric Liddell before I read this was that he was the Chariots of Fire guy.  There's good history in the book too...stuff I didn't know about China's history.  (I could write volumes about what I don't know about China's history.)

House of Sixty Fathers by Meindert DeJong ****

I read this book to Mark too.  I LOVED it.  It was a very sweet story about a little boy--and his pig--who were separated from his family and his resourcefulness and the kindness of strangers.  It made me cry.

Beatrice and Virgil by Yann Martel **

I liked and didn't like The Life of Pi (also by Yann Martel).  It was well written and fascinating and I love a good twist but it was also violent and I don't like that.

I was hesitant to read this book for that reason.  I know Braeden LOVED The Life of Pi and I thought maybe I didn't give it enough of a chance so I should give this book a chance.

It was well written and interesting.  And violent.  I don't think I'd recommend it for that reason.  Too much.  Just seeing the cover makes me uneasy now (I spook easily).

The Magic of Ordinary Days by Ann Howard Creel ****

I loved this book.  It was such a pleasant relief after Beatrice and Virgil.  I'm 90% sure I'd read the book before but I didn't remember it enough that it detracted from the story.  I don't remember books I've read which is why I've started recording them here.  I'd blame it on my encroaching dotage but I've been that way my whole life.

It's a sweet love story set during World War II.  There's more to it than that of course...I don't have the attention span for proper summaries of books...

I've Got Your Number by Sophie Kinsella ****

Sophie Kinsella is incredibly entertaining.  I have enjoyed every book I've read by her.  I love her hapless characters and her wit.  This is a perfect romantic comedy.  You should be warned that there's language in this book that made me cringe and wince but the book was so good, I overlooked it.  Maybe I shouldn't be admitting that?

Three snapshots

On Monday Braeden and Emma and I were taking a walk and I told them to grab sweatshirts.  They are t-shirt wearers while I have three layers on.  Braeden insisted it wasn't cold.  I insisted it was.

So Braeden pulled out this coat (and sunglasses) he and Jadon got on a trip to Value Village.

 
I guess it's an example of being careful what you ask for.

Braeden and Adam and I went on a short drive that turned into a long drive and an errand.  I felt a little like the stranded cast of Gilligan's Island.  It was supposed to be short!  I texted Emma to apprise her of our progress.

Texting with Emma is a high point of my life.

When I went to bed here's what Mark had left on our bed...a Sonic Screwdriver for each of us, made out of Legos.  Mark loves Dr. Who and Legos (and us apparently).

Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.

Robert Brault 

A rant from Mama Grizzly

Saturday night Braeden went to Tolo with one of his friends.  For those of you not from the Pacific Northwest, Tolo is a girls' choice dance and I don't know why it's called Tolo here but it is so there's your vague cultural lesson for the day.

The girl who asked him to the dance isn't in his usual circle of friends so they were going to double date with her friends while a big group of his friends were going separately.  He was disappointed to not be going with his friends but I was proud of his amiable spirit about it all.  She asked him first and he was rising to the occasion.  He offered (and was quickly taken up on the offer) to pay his own way, he dressed up, he was determined to have a good time.

I sent him off with a hug and an admonition to behave and drive carefully and be a gentleman and all of that.

His date's parents wanted her to drive so he drove to her house at the appointed time.  His date was in shorts and a t-shirt because her mom was sewing finishing touches on her dress.  Her date's dad took the opportunity to send Braeden outside to move his car.  He followed Braeden out and gave him a Talk.  He smacked his hands together in a threatening way and told Braeden that if anything happened to his daughter, he was holding Braeden personally responsible.  Braeden said "Yes, Sir," and shook his hand.

To all of that, all I could say is, "Are you kidding me?"

Maybe there was a little Napoleon complex going on (the guy hit Braeden about shoulder height) but he did not have to speak threateningly to my boy.  For one thing, she asked him on the date!  For another, she was driving!  Back. Off.

I know it's a time honored tradition for dads to look out for their daughters and maybe that's The Thing for dads to be all threatening but I'm glad my dad never felt compelled to act that way.  For one thing, I think he trusted our choices and for another thing, I think the boys we brought home respected him (and were a little intimidated) without him even trying.

I think if anything, moms should be able to have a talk with their son's dates.

I would never hold a date personally responsible for my son but I would like to request (pretty please) a modest dress.

Z

ZZZZZZzzzzzzzzZZZZZ

I'm writing to you on my shiny new laptop Adam bought for me.  Z. zzzzzzz.  Zz.

Guess what works?

The ZzzzzZZZZZ key!

I think not having a Z key (Did you see how easy that was?--ZZZZZzzzzzz) made me more creative and increased my vocabulary (I tried to find words without Z in them).

I learned which words would auto correct and which would not.  I learned tricks for finding the letter.  It was all a great learning experience.  (I also learned, don't spill Diet Coke on your laptop.)

My old laptop, old faithful, the beloved, was wearing out.  She was slow.  Painfully slow and sometimes would just refuse to get out of bed and get to work.  (I know the feeling; I didn't hold it against her.) I texted Adam with a computer complaint.  He is a good one to tell me how to fix whatever is ailing.  He texted back, "It is time to get you a new computer."

(That's not the first time he's told me that.)

I texted, "So are you saying if my computer were a racehorse you would shoot it?"

He texted back, "Yes."

It needed to be put down.  Sort of tragic.

Adam told me to look at the Apple website and compare different choices and figure out what I wanted.

Ha.

I don't understand the language spoken on the Apple website.  Also computers don't come in enough colors to be distinguishable to me. 

Saturday afternoon found Adam and Braeden and me at the Apple store.  Adam told me to pick what I liked and he would figure out which one had what I needed based on my choice.

Here's the thing.  They are all gray.  Kind of a silvery gray.   "I like the gray one?  The silvery gray one?"

First I had to pick the size.  (Woohoo!  That was so easy to type size!  That was not a word that would auto correct before!  It's really the little things that make life grand!) I picked the one that was the same size as my old computer.  I was still dragging my feet a little bit about the whole endeavor.

We were in a computer store so Adam pulled up a website comparing the specs on the two choices with 13 inch screens.

I didn't understand a word of it.  Braeden looked at me with barely contained mirth.  He knew I didn't understand a word of it.  (He didn't either though.)

I told Adam to get whatever he wanted.  He had a conference with one of the genius bar guys (which must be great for their self esteem--to be part of the genius bar).  They spoke in the foreign computer language...all that mega giga stuff that sounds like the adults in Peanuts cartoons.

Adam turned to me, "So?"

The genius bar guy was looking at me.

Braeden was smirking at me above the genius bar guy's head.

"You decide," I told Adam.

Braeden pulled me over to look at the computer with the comparison page.  "This will clear it all up for you," he said, pointing to the list of features in a sort of mocking way.

"I don't know what any of that means," I said.

"I know," he said, "Neither do I."

We decided to go look at phone cases.  They come in different colors and so are therefore distinguishable.

I finally rejoined Adam and told him which computer I wanted.  I picked the one with the best visual display.  It has retina display and Hey!  I have retinas!  I know that word.  I picked it because I like to watch Netflix on my laptop when I fold laundry so I want to use my retinas.

I started texting and eventually talking on the phone with Emma because she was making schemes for her evening plans.  (It involved seeing the movie Frozen for the third time.) Adam worked out all the details of the memory--which I still only vaguely understand despite Adam's noble attempt at an analogy--and whatever else needed to be worked out and now I have one shiny little laptop that can type z.  Any number of z's I want.

ZZZZZzzzzZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzZZz

Z

z

The Super Bowl

It was my first Super Bowl.  I don't usually watch but made an exception in the name of family solidarity.

The family was sort of into it.

Whitney and Kelly came for the weekend from Atlanta.  On Saturday we stopped by Geri's to see them and they were just leaving to go to the Boeing factory to see the 747-8 painted for the Seahawks so we went too (Adam was recruited to drive everyone).

There was a festive and holiday air about town.  And everybody was wearing a Seahawks shirt.

Sunday, after church, where several men were sporting ties with subtle green and blue stripes, we went to Brian's house.  The game was underway when we pulled up and we heard yelling from inside the house before we got out of the car.

If you didn't come wearing a Seahawks shirt (like the members of our immediate family) you were handed one at the door.  We piled on couches and chairs and when the Seahawks scored--which they did--it was sort of deafening and maybe dangerous as children and adults dog piled and high fived. 

I started texting my bearded brother and we sent each other memes that were maybe a little derisive toward the opponent, but meant...respectfully.

During time-outs we took selfies:

During offensive plays everyone (except me because Skittles are the worst) ate Skittles--just to help Marshawn.

Emma eating blue and green Skittles like it's her job.

I don't know if it was strictly necessary but it couldn't hurt.

My favorite part of the victory was watching Scott.  He's probably the biggest fan in Seattle.  The Twelfthest Twelfth Man.

He paced and twisted a towel in his hands the entire game and then his face reflected his pure joy.  Whitney texted me this picture.

I thought it was awfully cute.  Notice he's wearing a Seahawks shirt when he was a little boy.  He's a lifetime fan.

When I got home my grandma called me to talk about the game.  My grandma is not necessarily a Seahawks fan but she is a diehard football fan and a really wonderful grandma too.  She said she was pulling for Seattle on my behalf.

All in all, a good day.

I'm all for family solidarity:

Except Kain looks pretty serious...uh Kain?  We won!