GOOD LUCK J

This weekend we had a going away celebration for the man's youngest son,
J,
who is going into Job Corps.

A good decision on his part
to help him get a good start on his adult life.
We are all very proud of him and wish him success!



The whole gang showed up, minus his mother.
Sadly, she had to work.
His brother and family came down from the P'land area.


Sister and niece and nephew who are local.




Grandma and Grandpa from a bit to the north.




We had baked potatoes with a variety of toppings,
salad and some yummy dessert pizza.
Like most family get togethers,
it got a bit loud... with one louder than the others.
The man tends to get loud when happy.
It's part of who he is.


(A wee bit crazy.)



When it was over, I fed the man and sent him to bed.
Then turned my attention to the mess that remained.
Sigh.
There is always a mess isn't there?



But not too bad this time.
The left over potatoes will make good o'brians
and I am glad for the salad.
I never get tired of salad.
Besides... I got to use my great new storage containers!
And nothing fell out of the Fibber McGee cupboard.


All in all, a good weekend.


How was your weekend?


Did you trip over your feet in the morning when you sprung forward?


Was your weekend quiet... or loud?

BARBECUED DADS

This was the man's birthday last year.
It was quite a family and friend celebration!
I was still new then.
:-)

This year, I didn't manage to get photos of the event.
Dead camera battery.
:-(

Not a big party, which kind of surprised me.
I thought that maybe since it was Father's Day too that his kids might want to plan something.
But you know how adult kids that are are... 20s and 30s.
They have families of their own, jobs and big plans.
Jr. is going to marry this Friday... I've no doubt that they are busy!
Mom and Ron are off on a long trip to visit family and not available.

A week ago T (the man's best friend)
asked what the man's kids had planned for the day.
"Nothing that I know of..."
He said
"Okay, we're having Father's Day barbecue... you're coming over and we'll do birthday cake too."


Very cool beans!

We always enjoy going to T's house.

I let the man sleep in as late as he wanted and quietly left him biscuits and gravy to eat in bed.

Early in the day, the man's youngest son showed up with a piece of German Chocolate cake for his dad and to visit for a little bit.
That was sweet!
I didn't tell him that I had a big German Chocolate cake already.

Mom and Ron called from where they were on the road.
The man's sister, D, called as well... as she always remembers to do.
My kids sent well wishes via text... we are a texting bunch!

Then it was time to leave for the barbecue!
Yay!
This time there was an absence of the man's family.
Generally they show up there when there's a Duck party or whatever.
I half expected them to show up, not knowing if T had invited them or not.
But basically, we were crashing T's family Father's Day celebration.
So it was T's mom and step dad, sister and husband, brother J and T's family.
Cozy!
The food was so tasty... and I ate too much of course.
All in all a wonderful afternoon filled with a lot of laughter and good company.

Jr and his fiancee, B showed up at T's briefly to drop off a card
and say happy regards, but couldn't stay long.
They are not only getting married on Friday, but are packing their house to move when they return from their honeymoon in Hawaii.

R, his daughter put in a call on toward evening, so eventually all the kids had checked in to wish their dad well.
That made the man happy.
We made a stop by her house on the way home to drop off part of the cake
for them to enjoy too.
I got to wave at little N through the window.
She is such a cutie pie!

Home again, our evening was quiet.
The man had to be up early for work.
We didn't bother with a diner after such a huge afternoon meal.
We watched some TV and I had ice cream, he had cake.
That was about it.

Not a giant celebration.
But a mellow day and evening.
Sublime.

Happy Father's Day all you Dads!

"Sherman made the terrible discovery that men make about their fathers sooner or later... that the man before him was not an aging father but a boy, a boy much like himself, a boy who grew up and had a child of his own and, as best he could, out of a sense of duty and, perhaps love, adopted a role called Being a Father so that his child would have something mythical and infinitely important: a Protector, who would keep a lid on all the chaotic and catastrophic possibilities of life."
~Tom Wolfe, The Bonfire of the Vanities

I think that about sums up what a father's role is in the world pretty darned well.


When I began researching for this post, I had no idea what I wanted to say.
I've told so many of my stories here about growing up---
I can't remember what I have or haven't told.
Ha!






I thought I would list some of the valuable things my father taught me.

Cricket can explain the meaning of "value" to you here:

Cricket And Porcupine

Value
Believe me, understanding value is more complex than you assume.

Valuable things my father taught me:

* Fair is not a condition of life...
its a place you go to, to have fun.

* Do not put your bare leg against the motorcycle exhaust pipe.
(Painfully, I failed to listen.)

* If I did not do what my mother said, he would make me regret it.

* Think about what you read, don't just say the words in your head.

* The truth sometimes depends on who is telling it.

* If you don't turn down the stereo the first time I tell you...
it will disappear.

* There is only one thing teenage boys really want...
is to drive your vintage sports car ...
do NOT let them!

* If you call for a ride home be prepared to wait until I finish my beer.

* If you ever get pregnant before marriage, there will be no abortion...
you will have the baby, and spend the rest of your life raising it,
spend all of your money on it and countless hours worrying about it.
(That one scared the crap out of me!)

* Family are the people who love you even when you screw up.

* You can only spend as much money as you take with you,
so only take what you can afford to spend.

* Never drink Cognac as a quick shot...
your head will explode.

* If the bathroom door is closed... knock!

* "If I had to choose between saving you or saving your mother...
I'd save your mom. I can always have more kids...
However, if I didn't save you, your mom would kill me.
It's one of those questions where there is no good answer."

That's pretty much the wisdom of my dad in a nutshell.
Smart and often smart-assed.

He has delighted me, pissed me off, protected me, made me laugh,taught me and always loved me no matter how angry I made him...
and believe me, I did test that.
He has made my life interesting and still does
Here's to my dad...
Cheers!

INTERNMENT TUESDAY

Monday was...
Another fine day.

I had to go to the town to the left to the foot doc... to pick up my inserts at long last. Yay!







I had time to kill...

I have lived here off and for about 24 years total time. In all that time I have never before been to the museum.
So I went today. Most of it was the usual stuff. But this painting above and these items below are very interesting to me.




They are from the Japanese Internment Camps. I don't know enough about them to do them justice with a narrative. Here are a couple of sites you can peruse if you wish to learn more.

Historical Overview: Japanese Americans

Minoru Yasui - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia





When I first moved up here we landed in a house across the street from a Japanese man who lived in an internment camp. Very nice elderly gentleman. It used to amaze me that anyone could do that to such a nice human being. It still does.



He had a Weimaraner (dog) named Molly. She was very protective of me. In fact she would not allow my husband to get out of the car when he got home from work, unless I came outside and told her that it was okay.

Gosh I liked that dog. ;)







After the foot doc it was back home again for ho-hum... house work and a bit of reading and blogging.

Back in the car at 4:00 for the usual Monday trip into town for all of StbX's obligations.





A nice twist was that Boo, my oldest, was waiting for us at the Court House. So instead of sitting there reading in the heat alone, I had a nice visit with him before he had to go to work.




Then we were off to the Bear's house for a BBQ.

Bear and I had to shop for food, but managed to escape child-free. Meanwhile Mikey P. fired up the grill and began the meat fest.



They are taking off to go owl pelleting in the morning. They will be gone a week. They sell them on line.

I got to see that boy before they left. He was very entertaining.



Mikey P and cousin J were in the recording studio and they were searching through some older music. Link 80 to be exact. Little Mikey decided that he and I had to head bang. Oh yeah... head banging and dancing... that's our specialty!

We all ate way too much. (I'm doing a half fast day tomorrow to make up for it and an extra hour of walking.) Urp!


When I got home, I visited with crazy4coens for a time until a knock on my door... at nearly 11:00 at night... interrupted.


It was my brain damaged friend that I have mentioned before... D. He's a very s -l- o- w t- a- l- k- e- r and I have trouble with that. It makes me fall asleep. Especially when it's late. I feel terrible when I am obviously nodding out on him. He had the good grace to excuse himself this time.


All in all it was a good day. I got some things done that needed to be done. Squeaky has been on a house cleaning jag... so my house is all shiny bright. Today I will drive up and bring Max home for the night to visit. That always makes me happy.

Oh and I ran into one of my "minions" as StbX calls my ex-students. He's got a steelhead for me and will fillet it today. He's going to give me a call when it's ready and promises to keep me in fish all season. Very cool beans! I'm thinking of steelhead in jerk sauce tonight. mmmmm

The One and Only Number Two Girl Child

This one we will call Bear. I have not asked yet if she wants her name in here or not. When she was born, her older brother used to shush the neighbor kids outside at play and tell them that his "Bear" was sleeping. These too have a wonderful relationship and love each other so much! They live together currently. Sharing a house with her handsome love, Mr. P, his brother Tee, and cousin Jason. Big house, lots of rooms and 3 bathrooms. Bear and Mr. P have a fabulous son, my precious little Mikey.

What can I say about Bear? She is my best friend now that she is 25, a mom of a nearly 2 year old and no longer in need of mothering. She is beautiful. Yes, that is actual truth. She is also the meanest and scariest of my children according to her brothers... who respect her utterly and have the good sense not to piss her off. Never bait the Bear. They love her that much and then some too...I pity anyone who would try and cause her harm.

Bear is very artistic. She writes poetry. She paints. Draws. When she gets time with baby Mikey and his demands... babies are tyrants. She and Mr. P are very happy and in love. Engaged. Mr. P is a sober alcoholic... nearly 3 years. He is much adored and respected for his sobriety by our family. We are proud to have him as a family member. They do not eat beef. Mr. P was in a very cool punk band that is on a real label. I love their music. They are my family. I am so full of love for them!

Bear is dark like me. Did I say enough times that she is beautiful? I'm not sure that I can stress that enough. All my children are good looking. I don't know how that happened. When you look at the parents involved, you would think they would look like some awful combo you'd see on Conan O'Brian. Thank goodness for good looking ancestors, I guess.

The Irrepressible Number Three/Four

For our purposes, we shall call him Squeeky. He would never want his real name in here. Squeeky recently wrote an essay for a college class he is taking... though he is a junior in high school... about never putting any real information on a blog to protect yourself from trolls.

Where B-wreck is light and thin, Max is dark, furry and big enough to make you decide never to hit him if you can avoid it, Squeeky... the baby of the family is bigger than both and somewhere between in coloring. It was recently decided that he was officially the hairiest. Squeeky has a 'fro. His hair cannot be tamed. He pulls it into a pony tail that is not to be cool or in but keeps it under control. He knows that this is passe. His brothers have called him the Samoan. But don't get me wrong, he's not a fat big guy... he's a big guy.

There are so many aspects of Squeeky that it's hard to know where to begin or end. He is into computers like a true geek. Can build them from scratch. Can fix them. Creates parts. Amazes me. His best friend lives 50 miles away but they are constantly together online. He has friends all over the world online... which is great since we live in such a tiny place. (Pop. 1,300). He and my credit card spend a lot of money online.

He also has food issues. There are RULES that must be obeyed when it comes to food. Rules like meat cannot have a bone attached to it. It can no longer resemble what it used to be when alive. No chicken. No fish. No casseroles or food that touches each other. Food that touches by accident is fed to dog. He lost 15 pounds by giving up soda pop with sugar in it... tells you how much pop he drank. (Bad mom!) No fat is a rule. Squeeky will spend a half an hour removing any fat, connective tissue or suspicious anything from his meat portion. There is generally a pile of suspicious things as large as the part he eats. The only fast food he will consider is a Quizno's turkey sandwich.

Feeding him can be very difficult and was a real problem when he was younger because he would not eat the food other moms made. How can you spend the night at a friend's home or eat there if you won't eat the mom's food? His best friend's mom is the only exception to this day... because she understood and followed his rules. The woman keeps a jar of pickles for him.

Squeeky is sarcastic and snide. He has the ability to make that funny. When his dad is getting after him about something, Squeeky can crack the dad up with his sing-song deal about "I'm dad... I'm old and crabby..." Hard to transfer the spirit of it into text. Let me say this, as sarcastic and snide as he gets, you cannot stay mad at this kid. By the way, Squeeky is about to turn 17. His most valuable traits are an unfaltering loyalty to his family and his sense of justice.
One day, Squeeky will be a writer. He's already well on his way. Like all my sons, I am so proud of this one. A good person. A great son.

Son Two, Child Three

Max, my third child and second son, insisted that I use his real name... because he likes it. We also call him Swell (Max-Swell, get it?). Max is an enigma. I am not even sure how to describe him to you. He has a great, huge brain that collects everything it sees, hears or experiences. When there is something that cannot be recalled, the entire family asks Max... who can always recall the answer.
When he was three and and he and I were laying down for a nap, he was looking around. He turned to me and said "If we walked on the ceiling, how would we be able to reach the door knobs?" I had never noticed that the door knob is farther from the ceiling that it is from the floor. It was a good thinking question, especially for someone only three years old. That is what Max is... a thinker. A voracious reader. A chewer of information and a fun conversationalist for it. I can talk to Max all night if the mood strikes us.
If Max has a flaw, and who does not, it's his impatience with people who do not see things his way. Not that they disagree, but that they don't get what he is saying. He is fine with disagreement. Welcomes it and in fact loves a good debate in a non-angry spirit.

Max is now 21 and discovering the pub life. I have mixed emotions on this subject. I have seen more people lost to alcohol over the years than I have ever seen lost to drugs. Truth. But he is young and in Oregon, the pub life is about all there is to do in the small town we occupy. One has to have friends and friends have to have a place to gather. He has very interesting friends too.

My favorite memory of Max happened when he was about five years old. He was playing with a neighbor kid, who had whacked him on the head with a squirt gun. His sister and the neighbor boys brought him home to me... blood running from his hair, down his neck. I am a believer in the "calm mom" keeps fear at bay. So I acted as if a hole in his head was the most normal thing in the world and took him to the bathroom. Seated upon the counter with me snipping the hair from around the wound, I asked what happened. Max looked at me with his huge brown eyes, expressive as any hound dog's and said... "I've cracked my head open and now I'm going to die."

Son Number One

I have four children. Three are boys.

My oldest boy (and child) is B-wreck. He's (dare I say it?) 31 years old. A cook at a popular tourist type restaurant in a fabulous area of Oregon. B was born a girl magnet. Before he was even in school, little girls were leaving notes... hearts drawn on paper and wonderful kid crazy letters that can't follow a straight line. He was the most beautiful baby child in the world. Blonde head, green eyes and a dimple in one cheek. An angel of a child that could be taken anywhere and he would steal the show. B is a terrible ham. He can be loud. But he is exuberant, and has such a huge heart! He has a marvelous ability to transfer that exuberance to others. He and brother Max, are creating a comic book with the assistance of friend, Handsome Randy and cousin, Jason. The boys... my three and Jason for that matter, all get together where Jason and B live and hook up X-boxes for all night battle sessions. My boys are close. If a zombie attack ever comes... I am well protected!