Summer (Carnival Wednesday)

Over at a blog I follow called One More Thing, Kate is doing something called Carnival.  Basically, a set of topics is laid out for other bloggers to post about.   Anyone can follow along and see what other’s think when presented with a specific topic.  They call it Carnival Wednesday.  This week’s topic is Summer.

Here’s my shot.  It’s short, late, and somewhat thrown together so not very thought out.   (if you’re interested in other’s follow the link to Kate’s blog as she’s got a link to the others there.)

Personally, I like all the seasons.  I don’t think I really have a favorite.  Fall I enjoy the change of colors (being raised in the San Francisco Bay Area I never witnessed a true sense of seasons and Fall was just Indian Summer).  Winter I enjoy the cold and the snow (again I didn’t enjoy much of that growing up).  Spring lets’ me enjoy the new growth although I find myself getting impatient with Spring (buds just pop too slowly). 

Summer, in a nutshell, to me is vacation.  

I have fond recollections of Summer as a youth.  I always anxiously awaited that wonderful day in June – the last day of school.  The last day of school was often followed by a trip to the barber for a Summer crewcut.  I don’t think it was my idea, but my parents might disagree. 

Summer also meant my family’s annual trip to Los Angeles.  We’d either travel by car on US 101 or CA 1 (stopping to visit the Missions) or by train.  We’d visit Disneyland, Hollywood, and Olvera Street.  (I think I still have my velvet Peanuts painting that I spent my hard earned allowance on on Olvera Street.)  Every year was a great memory. 

During my youth I also fondly recall my Summer visit to my relatives in Santa Clara whom I would spend a couple of weeks.  My cousin Ginny and I were the same age and we’d do everything together.  Wander through the local orchards, climb the apricot and walnut trees.  Build treehouses.  Those were later followed with my joining them on their vacations (they were campers, my family was not.)  We’d sometimes camp and my folks would meet up with us, but they’d stay in the lodge.  The closest we came to camping as a family was Camp Mather near Yosemite.  Ah, Camp Mather, now there’s some fond Summer memories.  Camp Mather was really a bunch of cabins and a dining hall with cool outdoorsy stuff.  Swimming in the pond, catching tadpoles, pulling bark off the Ponderosa Pines in neat puzzle shapes, walks at night in pitch black trying to follow a double yellow line you could not see, up to the store which had a real working soda fountain.  Oh, and there were girls there, too.  I guess you could say Summer was crushes.

As I started my own family, Summer recollections move to what my girls were interested in.  Jenn loved Girl Scout Camp (Ashley did it a couple of times, but never really took to it.)  Ashley had cheerleader daily starting August 1st.  A trip across country as we moved from DC to the Philippines was another highlight.  Arizona is HOT in the Summer.  Memories of Summer life in the Philippines reminds me of monsoon and Leta making the girls Summer clothes.  Walking or golfing in the rain in shorts and flip flops.  The only drawback to the Summer monsoon season was being hot and wet and then entering an A/C building. 

Today Summers make me thing of the beach in Westport with Una watching crabs, running from the waves, and of course, sand in her food.  Una and Sally both love the beach.  I do, too.  I look forward to this year as Una is obviously a lot more mobile.  Should be fun watching Sally and Nana chase after her.  :-)  The other Summer highlight is “Paradise Found”, our vacationing at the “T'” house in Westport.  We had a terrific time last year and are booked again for this year.   We’re anxiously awaiting the end of June. 

Summer really is a wonderful season.  Each season has its pluses, but to me, Summer has vacation memories.

Merry Christmas, Jenn and Ashley

Each year I get excited about setting up the tree.  Sally and I have some wonderful ornaments we've gathered over our few years together.  Hanging them brings out some great memories of the wonderful times we had gathering them, and the great places we've been fortunate to visit.  This year is even more special as Una is old enough to appreciate what is happening.  She's excited about Santa, and enjoyed seeing the different ornaments as we pulled them out of the storage boxes.  Since she's told not to touch the tree, she's so cute in leaning in to smell it.  

Decorating the tree also makes me nostalgic in another way, and thus, somewhat saddened.  While I think of my two older girls (Jenn and Ashley) often, the pulling out of an ornament and glancing to see "Baby's 1st Christmas - 1981" or "First Christmas - 1983" really sends me down memory lane.  Good memories, each and every one.  No matter how hard I try, there is no stopping the choked up feeling I get.  Those memories make you think more intensely of the ones you miss and love.  And, not having them with you to relive the experience all over again...well...sucks.  We live in such a disbursed world it's so hard to be with everyone every year.  Texas, Ohio, California, Colorado, Pennsylvania.  Luckily, we do have the memories.

I've created this little slideshow of some special ornaments on the tree this year.  We have plenty more, but they are the ones that remind me of Jenn and Ashley.  I've inluded ones we have for Una so that Jenn and Ashley could see those, too.  

It's just my way of dealing, I think.

Merry Christmas

When Work is Not Work

This blog is not about "work" as in my employment (I had previously written "job", but I am going to talk about my other job, as in the one I have at home.) Do not get me wrong, I've been at my employment for over ten years now, and I enjoy the job I have. Each day is its own challenge and I look forward to going to work (although I will admit I look forward to vacations more). But, it is "work".

This past weekend we had an opportunity to do "work" which I've put off too long. We had our roof replaced last week and we had a nice big dumpster sitting in our driveway. It was 3/4 full, but that meant we had a place to dump some stuff from the garage. You know a garage, a place for that 30 years or so of accumulated junk; a place for high school schoolbooks, hundreds of fantasy sci-fi paperbacks, college schoolbooks (in languages I could not begin to read -- Greek); and, treasured memories. Oh, and maybe a car? You think?

Anyway, I jumped into pitching anything not salvageable. What qualifies as not salvageable you might ask? Unfortunately, some things were not in such great condition thanks to leaving bird seed out in the open in the garage one Winter. Mice just love bird seed it seems, and mice need a home, and mice need materials to make a home from. You know things like paper from books (particularly paperbacks). Things like old running shirts you were saving from back in the day when you use to be thin and run? (Yeah, I did that). Things like college dorm clothes someone boxed up and had "Dad" look after.

When I was done the dumpster was full, and believe it or not, I could actually fit a car in the garage. Go figure!!!

I still have a ways to go...Jenn, you had alot of stuff. I have found some wonderful treasures which I hope to share in some future blog. For now I'm just enjoying the memories the treasures I discovered bring me.

Oh, and in case you're wondering what Sally was doing while I went through my junk in the garage, well she found her own "work", that being to tackle scraping and painting the front door and trim. We've been saying we're going to do that for ages, and Sally just went and did it. The front door now looks good enough to adorn one of those posters "Doors of [fill-in the blank]" I haven't seen a Doors of DaBucket yet...hmmm, now there's another project for another day.

Life Comes At You Fast

No, I'm not seeking ad revenue from Nationwide. I'm talking about real life.


As I go through life witnessing daily the changes in Una, I'm sometimes overwhelmed with emotion regarding my grown children, Jenn and Ashley. I want them to know that they are so much a part of our family. They'll get blogged about, too. :-)

So many of the things I'm witnessing today, I was fortunate to witness 25 or so years ago with either Jenn or Ashley. Sally sometimes asks whether Una at this age is more like Jenn or Ashley. To be honest I don't know. It's funny what you remember. Jenn sleeping in the crankup swing or the bouncy in the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen. Ashley sucking that finger or brushing her hair (she hated that). I remember the special things. I remember things I've had my memory jogged through pictures. Is it the fact that 25+ years have passed? Is it that I wasn't paying attention? Will 25 years from now the daily actions of Una be faded memories?

Life was so different for me then. I was 25 when Jenn was born. Was I mature enough to appreciate what I had a hand in creating? Did I appreciate those events the way I appreciate them today? Did I show my girls the pride I felt in their accomplishments as I do today with Una? I'd like to think the answer to all those questions would be "Yes".

I miss my girls. Sally can attest to that. Sometimes so much I simply cry as I think of them. Life comes at you fast. There they are as little children, then they are grown mature women who are thousands of miles away.

When Rick P, my grammar school classmate and friend, reached out to me after about 30+ years a couple of weeks ago (he had gotten my number by calling my Mom) he said this, "Your Mom says, 'Call your Mom!'" I now so often know how my Mom felt when I joined the Navy and moved thousands of miles away and travelled half way around the world. A bit of her was gone; had moved on. Pieces of me have moved on, too.

I called my Mom out of the blue the day before yesterday and she said, "What good news do you have for me today?" She just assumed that if I was calling mid-week it had to be for some other reason than to just say hello and check in.

Your children are your children whether they are 20 months or 25 or 27 years. They are your children whether they are down the hall in their crib, or thousands of miles away in their own homes. You love them all the same. You can just as easily lay awake concerned about your infant's latest cold as you can about ice storms in Texas or blizzards in Ohio.

Life comes at you fast. Call your Mom. Call your distant children. Tell them you love them. Ask for pictures to save the memories of the different stages of their life.

I love you Jenn and Ashley. This one's for you.