Setting Sail

I went on a large Disney cruise years ago and the person who coordinated it said it would be wonderful because I would never have to worry about seeing my grandchildren.  She was absolutely correct in that I never saw the kids except at dinner and that made me rather sad.  There was manufactured fun on the ship or lots of sitting around on the ship or exercising on the ship and nothing to see but the ocean for hours.  I disliked the whole experience.  Our stateroom was small with no windows and very crowded since we also had the 'pac and play' for our youngest and tucked her in each evening.  Therefore, I will never go on a cruise with over a thousand people like that again.  Whenever we came into a port we disgorged lots of people and swarmed over stores and restaurants like nasty bees.  We got only one beach day after all the confinement!  There were lots of sticky sweet tropical alcoholic drinks, if that is your cup of tea!

This Viking river cruise was so different in that there were no waves, no manufactured fun (well a little) and the room was just a little more spacious and the groups for tours were much smaller-one bus load.  The views were always interesting as you could see the shore each and every day and most of this part of Europe is not ugly industrial.  The cruise director and all of our guides had a wealth of knowledge about the area and its history and answered our various questions completely when we saw something curious or wonderful.

One of the responders to a prior post voiced concern about how the lower level staff could be treated (mistreated) on a cruise ship.  It is my understanding from the upper level staff that Viking works very hard at keeping good working relations and decent living conditions among all staff.  I do know that the ship interrupted their schedule to stop at a small town to let off one of the lower level staff who had a family emergency, and they provided him with a train ticket to Vienna and a plane ticket home.  Yet, I am sure their living quarters were tight on board ship and I do know they worked very long hours.

We did learn that the Danube can be a ruthless river and the flood this last May left devastation to these lovely old medieval cities all along its coast.  Where our guide is holding his hand is the level of the flood waters of that most recent flood in May of this year in the city of Regensburg, Germany.  All the other dates and marks written on the wall are other floods in this town dating back to the 1500's.  The people do not have flood insurance to cover losses and the government no longer allows them to live on the ground floor.  They may use it only for business.

Perhaps that is why this tattoo parlor on the ground floor is so sparsely furnished?

Most of the architecture away from the river is not as old as it looks.  Many parts of the various cities were rebuilt or restored after fires and wars and are not original...but you would be hard pressed to recognize that restoration except for their clean condition.  They paid great attention to detail creating buildings that looked like the original.  They are proud of their heritage and proud of their link to the past and their part in the history of the world.  But I did get the impression that the Germans were most happy to pause only shortly at WWII sites for tours and quickly move on to the wonderful medieval history that reflects their history so much more fully.  They know that those of us from the new world are most fascinated by this much older history and most depressed by the most recent World War.

There was a small mix-up in the call for the tour guide and this lovely woman in black had left mass (it was Sunday) to come guide us through her hometown of Regensburg.  She appeared to be late until her son, the young man in the photo below this, appeared and said that he had been scheduled for the tour which resulted in the mix up in names.  Honestly ladies, which guide would you rather have??

Just as an aside, our guide's lederhosen belonged to his grandfather and he had just inherited them from him as a gift and was most happy as they were far more comfortable than his newer ones.  He explained that it might take years to break in lederhosen to a comfortable wearing level. His shoes are a traditional Bavarian half shoe.  Isn't he scrumptious even right down to his shoes?

Three Cities

Our first two days after arrival at our hotel and before boarding our ship we relaxed in Budapest, Hungary.  This city a combination of the cities of Buda and Pest and the older community of Obuda.  Much of the city is a World Heritage Site and really, really lovely.  I think it was my favorite city, but we spent most of our time walking and walking and walking there over two days and that might be why.  We felt very safe and did not encounter any situation that made us uncomfortable.

The city is full of professional people:

Poor people who live on recycling:

Striking laborers:

Government employees:

and tourists:

This is not my husband. He would not be caught dead in those jeans or those shoes!.

If we had more time in the remnants of our lives and more money in our bank account and fewer places in the world to still visit we would go back to Budapest for a week and just see it all more closely and eat more of the fabulous food and watch people more.  The strength and patriotism of these people is reflected so well in what they have accomplished after the devastation of recent wars and the evolution following past ancient wars.  First there were the Celts, followed by the Romans, then the Hungarians which were pillaged by the Mongols, followed by 150 years of Ottoman rule eventually to become a capital of the Austro-Hungarian empire (which was no small empire) which then dissolved after WWI and attack by Germany and then Russian rule.  Heroes' Square in Budapest gives just a small clue with statues of various Hungarian leaders across this history.

So much city and so little time!

Booming with the Baby Boomers

 
There will be time to write about the trip itself and all the wonderful things to which we were exposed, but first, I need to write about the culture of these cruises.  We went on what they call a Viking 'long' ship so named as an homage to the real Viking long ships...although this ship was one of the long rivers ships as well.  These trips are very expensive and so only a specific demographic is going to cross that aluminum bridge from foreign soil to the ship.  The passengers are almost all over the age of 60.  A few are very old and even use canes to get around.  One dear soul had recently been diagnosed with terminal cancer and he plowed through each and every day with much aplomb although he needed a wheel chair for most things.  The passengers are all former or current professionals or from successful well-paying careers.  They are mostly Jewish, Catholic, Presbyterian, and Methodist with maybe just a few other beliefs thrown in.  They are liberal, moderate and conservative.  Most are Canadians or British, a few from New Zealand and Australian, and all the rest from all over the world but mostly the United States.

You usually eat breakfast, lunch and dinner on the ship at family style tables in the terrace cafe or the more formal dining room and thus the culture seems to be getting to know as many people as you can.  Most tables in the dining room seat six to eight.  It is not as artificial as it sounds because after such good food and wine that flows like water you find that the things you share with these people are substantial and the differences few.  Grandchildren, aches and pains, interest in the global economy, history of the world and the area in which you are traveling, and personal experiences are the topics of conversation.  I met a forensic scientist/lawyer who wrote a book on how to investigate a bomb explosion, a forestry scientist who saved a forest in Canada, several computer people who invented their own programs, chemists, a dermatologist, a dentist, an engineer on the Alaska pipe line, lawyers, educators, librarians, etc.  They played golf or violins or chess in their spare time. 
 

They were not shy and were leaders in their communities.  They were upper middle class.  This is not a place that I see myself fitting into...but maybe I do?  Many were great at remembering names...but if your name was not Johan, Malcolm, Moira, Barbara, Bill or Sandy (both a male and female were named that last one) I had trouble calling you by name.  Meeting a dozen or so passengers each day is a challenge indeed even though many of us wore name tags part of the day!

The staff that kept the ship clean and kept the wine flowing were mostly from the Philippines.  They worked 8 months on and 4 months off (the last unpaid I think, although Viking paid for their way home).  The professional staff (engineers, chefs, cruise directors, hotel managers) came from the local area: Germany, Austria, Romania, Slovakia, etc and work six weeks on and two off.  They are the most well-trained staff you will ever encounter.  They politely and with genuine permanent smiles put up with forgetfulness, hearing problems, stress over travel and just plan crankiness in people who were adjusting to time changes.  The staff were really wonderful and worth the recommended tip at the end of the cruise.  The food was delicious and fresh if not exactly 4 star.  Serving 190 people three meals a day does not lend itself to high end food. but the desserts and pastries were phenomenal, and they would take back anything you did not like and bring you something else.  'Malcolm's' wife had them take back the filet mignon twice before it was cooked to her non-pink preference.  (I think the Chef was considering slitting his wrists by then, but he overcooked it like shoe leather for her on the final try.)

The cruise director has a full schedule planned for each day.  You can participate in all or none of the activities.  Some tours are more leisurely for the slow walking set.  We participated in everything and even added three optional tours which meant we were exhausted at the end of each day.  They even had evening musicians, dancers, singers and lectures if you could keep your eyes open after dinner or if you were hyper-active.  Needless to say, 80% of us were in bed by 10:00 P.M.

The rooms were small but large enough to sleep in for a week's trip.  We got the cheapest rooms which meant the window was tiny and above our heads unlike all the balcony or french balcony windows on the decks above.  We reached it after a long walk down the hall on the lowest level and it WAS quiet.

 
We could still see out across the water from a window at the top of our wall and determine if we were moving or at dock.  The stability of the ship is so good that most of the time you could only tell movement by the sound of rushing water or the movement of the tree line past the window.  At the end, we did not regret getting the cheaper room because we were on the sundeck or the front lounge or off the ship most of the time.  The only disadvantage is if you wanted scenery without people you had to search for a little corner on the above levels.

This little dog took hubby's book for a read, but did not lose his place.

X-rated photo of hubby taking a shower.

Getting the Old Heart Started

Nothing like pulling together all the documents, papers and schedules for a trip that you thought was departing early Wednesday morning and finding that it departs the evening of the Monday morning that you are pulling out all your stuff and getting organized!

Called cell phone for international access.
Called two visa cards for international access.
Packed (Although I had been 80% packed for a week!)
Charged batteries
Called for plant keeper and lawn mower
Emailed bank for finances for son
Made copies of passports
Watered plants, mowed lawn contacted neighbor's son for help
Tried to find WHERE we had made reservations overnight in Budapest...without luck(!) so made more reservations!!
Stop at bank for a little cash
Head to airport
BREATHE!!

(One would think international travelers such as ourselves were not so amazingly unorganized!)

Such a Tiny World

 My little world is so very much larger than the world of most humans.  It is so protected and so peaceful and full of abundance in all things.  It is a mostly free little world without many rules and restrictions.  My mind is allowed to explore across vast spheres of ideas and political movements and historic events.  I have such unbelievable freedoms that even I forget to honor the opportunities sometimes.

Yet as the final cloak of evening dark settles into the corners of my modern and luxurious house I hear hints of vulnerability.  Sounds like the snort of a pig, the humph of a fat old man, the stingy sniff of a wealthy crone, the flaunted twerk of someone who sells her soul for fame and fortune.  These cautions and quiet reminders are not so much for me but for those who follow and are too busy to listen.  Dangers for those who do not reach out to learn.  The call for bigger, more, faster, brighter, and then the brake for paramnesia to settle the soul during fitful inconvenient sleep is most dangerous.

In my world the leaders are quick to point the fingers at other world leaders and blame them for lying, immorality and unethical behavior, while they pretend that there is no history that reveals most of our leaders have feet of clay.  We have used nuclear weapons against innocents.  We have used chemical weapons against innocents.  But since we 'learned' from these lessons we now can order everyone else about and hold them to a higher standard.  Still, we are not smart enough to put down the sledge when a scalpel might suffice.

I am going to expand my little world this coming week and take a trip to a country that has a "New" constitution as of 2012.  This country has been invaded and pummeled many times and has an immensely complicated history.  After WWI this country lost more than 71% of its territory, 58% of its population, and 32% of its people in a restructure.  While it is now a free Republic, there are still many undercurrents of struggle and poverty  There are 8 political parties which sounds overwhelming but means many voices can be heard.  They are the inventors of geometry, electronic motors, transformers, use of Vitamin C, plasma TV, holographs and the Rubic Cube.  This country is the home of Franz Liszt and Bela Bartok among other artists and the Pulitzer prize.  Its culture and geography are so lovely that it currently attracts 10.2 million tourists a year.   The people of this country know far more about my country than I do about them.  You have guessed by now that I am writing about Hungary.

My visit will be typical of those little world tours we take.  I will be living on a long ship going up the Danube and visiting various cities in Germany, Hungary and Austria via canned tour.  I will try to break away for spontaneous adventure, but do not expect an honest meeting of Hungarian minds as the time is so short and so tightly programmed and I do not want to miss anything.  But, perhaps this taste will get me to return for something more intimate someday.  I know nothing about this region other than what I have read.

For those who cannot travel for oh so many reasons, I will bore you with photos and anecdotes when I return that you can skip until I run out of material and get back in a regular drain, chain, lane of thought.

What is a Living Wage These Days

When I was growing up, somehow the culture instilled in me that waiting tables at the local fried chicken restaurant, which was popular for miles around, was not a path to long-term financial stability.  It was a summer and weekend job to provide me with money for the frugal college years ahead.  My family was poor as were most of the farming families in the area and yet most parents wished a college education for their children.  So, children took jobs and worked and saved.  Yet, there were women, not men, for whom this waiting tables was a permanent job.  They were proud of being excellent at what they did and being able to carry five plates on one arm and remembering every customer's unique needs.  They bragged about tips sometimes.

I never wondered about those women.  They frightened me a little because they were so good at their jobs and so intense about their work and so rough when they took their cigarette breaks outside.  But I never wondered why they took the career path they did and how they made ends meet when they got home.

Now there is a movement to give fast food workers a living minimum wage.  While I agree that we need to raise their salaries in conjunction with the way profits for fast food places has grown, I wonder when we accepted that this type of job should be considered a realistic permanent career and a path that would allow them to raise families.  Yes, I a aware that many have no other opportunities, many are not expertise enough to do another type of job and many do not realize they are in a financial path that has no hope for escape.  But an opportunity for a lower middle class lifestyle...I think not...unless they are working to be a manager of such a franchise.

Yes, I am a liberal but concerned about how we think about jobs in this country. 

Perhaps?

Regarding the various comments from my prior post, you all have me thinking, thinking, and thinking.

Well, I am going to be honest regarding the financial help without being too honest.  It was over 100K that we provided to the purchase of this new house.  It is a holding space so that they qualified for the mortgage.  The plan is that they will give it back to us when they sell the house they are currently leaving.  They have that much equity in it.  (Maybe this is why we are so invested in the immediate and best price sale of the house.)

Yes, Mage, we could afford to hire painters and fence installers, but  kids cannot.  We would probably not see that money returned to us if we did this.  Therefore, we are too frugal and do it ourselves.  Or we negotiate with their neighbors next door and we have the kids provide the fence materials and find the neighbor and his landscape crew are more than happy to install the fence AND tear out their rusted,ugly chain link fenced.  (Mr. Neighbor seems thrilled to be able to hide all his lawn mowers, work trucks and other stuff behind an 8-foot fence!)

Earlier this year my husband and I washed and painted a small condo that my son owns (with 5K we gave him and which he never paid back) and which he now rents and clears a few hundred each month for income. My son and his wife did help us with this project on that weekend.

Regarding the word "No."  followed by "Just cannot work out time to help you at this time.  We would love to, but just cannot." who knows why we cannot say this?

I have gone over the reasons:

DIL's parents are extremely hard workers and if they lived closer would put us to shame as they are also talented in this type of work, unlike we, who barely get a fine coat of paint across a wall.  Fear that they would show us up, if not now, then someday?

Perhaps after a number of years of distance we have our son back in our lives and we are afraid to lose him again, if we do not help and help and help?

Perhaps we are those Puritan work ethic types that feel guilty if we do not display love through hard work?

Perhaps we are so insecure that we are afraid they will only love us if we make such sacrifices?

Perhaps we like the sense of accomplishment as it proves we are not dead yet and we know that soon we will not be able to offer this help and be too old and it give us bragging rights?

Perhaps we subconsciously want to use it to manipulate our children thoroughout their lives as many parents do???

...Oh Gee, I just noticed I have white paint under my fingernails, the few that have not been totally chipped away by all this work.  Excuse me....will you?

On the Road Again

Off today for the 50 mile drive up to wash and paint the kid's kitchen and utility room, spackle a crack in the living room ceiling and if time, paint that, and then pick up the fence parts and posts that Home Depot failed to deliver.

Yes, Mage, I will post about the word "No,"  in a few days.

Sleepless in the Mid-Atlantic

It happens these days that insomnia is the only way I find time to collect my thoughts and do some blogging.  Watching the moon fall across the sky, I can sit without distraction.  There is no reason for my inability to sleep.  I have been Uber busy leading the life of a workhorse keeping up with very small children, then working strenuously on my son and DIL's home to get it ready for sale.  Weeding, mulching, trimming trees, bundling twigs, planting annuals...all to get it ready to put on the market.  When we finished this we turned to the inside of the house and helped them pack to get the house ready for house shoppers.

My DIL is a hoarder collector of all kinds of stuff and she gets very attached to memorabilia.  I can sell you two boxed and never opened Baltimore Orioles bobble head dolls! ( I also discovered that fancy letter boxes would be a nice Christmas gift.)  My son is a sound engineer and owns three four guitars along with enough sound system equipment to furnish a studio.  Various relatives have donated odds and ends furniture to the young couple over the years and if you add all the wedding gifts, mostly kitchen stuff and linens, then you have a two-bedroom 900 square foot house that has only pathways between rooms to move about.  For many days it has looked like an episode of Hoarders or some tragic accident of nature.

They finally rented a storage unit and have it now two-thirds filled it with crap all their extra stuff.  We packed boxes, lifted heavy furniture, loaded a file cabinet, and threw out as much stuff as they would let us after we finished the yard.

I remember one year when I moved my daughter into college and my mother-in-law into our house in a matter of weeks.  I had hoped then that this type of craziness would no longer fill my life.  ( I really have to find a way to be out of town when they make the move into the newly purchased house!)

Monday, after this super weekend, I came home and realized I had to go over my house with a fine tooth comb after the departure of little ones.  I got 6 loads of laundry done, (haven't yet stripped the two beds upstairs,) and dusted, vacuumed and mopped floors, cleaned out the toy cupboard to throw away stuff, cleaned out the DVDs and separated children's books from library books, completing just the main rooms on the main floor.  Next, after Tuesdays volunteer morning, I have to do bathrooms, my master bedroom and the main floor closets.  The basement and upstairs will have to wait a day or two more.

I am not writing all this to brag about my industrious life style.  This is just he way that I am.  I do get pleasure out of having things neat and organized for at least a short time.  I could also write about months being a couch potato, but that will happen this winter.

At any rate one would think that restorative sleep is what my body would demand after all this physical and mindless labor.  But it seems that I get about 5 hours of sleep and then find myself wide awake waiting for morning to begin so that I can get more stuff done.  I am sure a therapist could have a field day with such antics, but unless they can help me sleep through the night, I have no desire to know why I am this way.

What? You will have to speak louder.

What is it about the shrieking lilting laughter of a five six-year-old that reverberates to the point that it wants to make your head explode?

What is it about the sound of moving furniture upstairs that makes one cringe?

What is it about the sound of running water that makes one very, very uneasy?

What is it about the slam of a door that makes one think of pinched fingers?

What is it about the stomp patter of feet running upstairs that makes you hold your breath?

What is it about waking up to a little face just inches from your nose that puts you in the twilight zone?

What is it about the silence in the rooms at the end of the visit that makes you so very sad?

Lists and Plans

Lists!  I have to make them. Plans!  I frequently break them.

Thursday:  processed Italian flat beans for freezer, made two loaves zucchini bread from new Cuisinart cookbook, was interrupted by various calls from son who has found a house they can't afford, thus,bread gets over processed and becomes brick pudding!
Friday:  agree to provide financial backing to son until they sell their current teeny-tiny house so that they can bid on this other house---excellent location and move-in condition, prices will go up this coming spring and they will not be able to afford anything in this neighborhood!  Those of you who do not live in a dynamic city have not a clue how expensive real estate is/was and why we agree to jump on this.
Saturday:  six loads of laundry after the grands left and straighten upstairs and basement toys!   Feed pets they accidentally left behind with garden harvest cherry tomatoes.  Roast garden eggplant.  Weed flower beds.  Take photos.

Sunday:   finally cleaned out the inside of my car, shopped for walking shoes for a fall vacation trip (a really neat one that I certainly deserve after this crazy summer), bought new luggage as mine broke, and shopped for food.  Son calls and his offer is accepted.   (Between vacations and real estate support watching money dwindle fast.)
Monday:  changed master bedroom linens, paid bills online, drove up to the city and took a walk through with the son's home inspector on this "new" house, impressed with small house and location, depressed when returning to son's/DIL's teeny-tiny house in its NOT move-in condition.  Tons of work to be done and they are not happy to hear us tell it.
Tuesday--TODAY:  morning volunteer work on marine museum landscaping, then an hour at the art museum children's vegetable garden getting it wound down, then food shop for the grands, then trip up tonight or tomorrow to get them.
Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday:  entertaining the grandchildren once again.  picnics, museum trips, boat rides, hikes, puzzles, movies, cooking....whatevah!
Saturday:  drive the hour up to drop off grandkids, head over to son's/DIL's house and begin hours of yard work, mulching, cleaning up old wood piles and leftover gutter grids, pruning back invasives etc. then head home. (There is not room in their house to sleep with all the wedding gifts.)
Sunday:  drive the hour back up to finish yard work, look at prepping outside house trim for painting, plan for installation of a fence on one side of the yard to hide the neighbors backyard which they have turned into storage for their landscape business. (Hoping neighbors fix the large work truck with the flat that is sitting in their drive way and hoping we can get them to clean up their backyard peacefully as they are probably illegal both in having the business in the backyard and in living in this country!)
Monday: breathe and perhaps clean house and maybe just maybe get into an exercise routine once again(?)
Tuesday:  start the yardwork volunteer schedule all over again!  Looking forward to future long empty days of retirement somewhere/somehow.

A Bigger Deal

I have been trying to breathe in and breathe out and find something worthwhile to write about.  I either have to tell something about what is happening to me or something uplifting to share.  Well, I just cannot.  I just plain cannot!  I have a friend who has a daughter that is seriously ill and facing some very big challenges.  I have a friend who just discovered that someone they love has cancer and it has a difficult prognosis.  I have a friend who recently lost a spouse.  And to add to all this big deal the kind minister that married my son and daughter-in-law has just been admitted to the hospital for some lengthy tests.

In addition, I will not go into the sad and unfortunate news that a number of bloggers have shared so bravely recently from their lives.

I believe in the power of prayer but am not sure who I should pray to.  I know, you wonder about my thinking, but that is the way I am.  Anyway, if prayer works for you, please ask for peace for all these souls who are facing such big challenges these days.  Please pray for light and peace so that their days are golden.  I am going to listen to some music and watch some birds live their challenging lives.

A Big Deal

We have lived for several years with three large tulip poplars on the side of the house where the storms arrive.  Most of the trees in the ravine that die fall in the direction of the house.  During hurricanes we go down into the basement and hope that they will not fall against our bedroom wall.

I took the photo above to show the permit office, because you need to get permission to cut any trees, and I call these 'hazard' trees which makes it easier to get permission.  The permit costs $180.00...our lives and the lives of those we love...priceless.

This photo is from behind the house and there are actually three trees we had to remove.  Two are very close on the right side of the photo.  The third is the one that appears to be leaning right beside it.

We asked our neighbor for a good company and he sent us these good old boys.  I use this term with the greatest of endearment...because they really are!

They use a slingshot with a weighted bag to shoot through the branches of the tree they wish to down.  It was not going to be topped or cut up for firewood.  We just wanted a safe 'drop', which is cheaper and safer for all when you have lots of room as we do.  They then feed a heavy-duty rope through the path of the slingshot and pull taught after the cutter cuts the wedge and the other side of the trunk directing the fall.

The fellow above who weighed about 90 pounds was in charge.  He was in his 50's and had been dropping trees for decades, one of the few with the skill in the county.  He had been working with some Naval group in his youth and kept apologizing for the four letter words that the crew was using.  He said they were somewhat new and he was trying to train them.  I just smiled.  All I cared about was that they were being careful and concentrating and if that meant they had to swear...so be it.  The trees were tulip poplars which are considered shallow rooted and easy to rot.

As you can hear in this video above (not taken with a fancy movie camera), I was quite impressed and just a little terrified!!  I feel so sad about the great gap that we left in the ravine and the death of these old ones, but I feel so much safer sleeping at night after the ground has been soaked for days and before the arrival of a nasty storm.

Getting Permission

Several bloggers commented on the fact that I had to purchase a permit to bring down those trees which were on property I owned.  First, the ravine, while owned by me, is considered an environmental easement and I am not allowed to do anything there without asking.  While I agree that it seems too much government in my life, I have seen properties where they cut down every single tree along the river so that they get a perfect open view and so that others can see their perfect open house and so that their lawn fertilizer and broad leaf herbicide can flow freely into the river!  Yes, they get fined.  BUT they are rich and the $10K seems a small price to pay for a full water view so they can show off and screw the environment.  I wish the county would make them also plant trees as part of restoration.  Other counties in this liberal state do that.

Why do we care if people cut down trees willy nilly?  Well, our river goes back and forth on being clean and then polluted and then clean again.  Run-off is a big deal and trees drink lots of that water and keep the rest of the run=off purer.  They stop erosion and provide important shade and habitat for animals and clean the air.  I could go on and on about living in balance with everything else.

Our county is so restrictive because I live within 100 feet of the water.  That 100 foot buffer I am not allowed to touch...build, cut, or clear!  My neighbor who owns a landscape company ignored this on his many acres and cleared his land under the trees and then paid the fine for clearing away too much brush.  They are rich and he just accepted the fine as the cost for what he wanted to do.  I feel strongly about trying to keep the environment protected and my footprint small and so I do follow the rules.  I am an environmentalist as well and terrified at what we are doing to the air, water and land.  I have seen more animals and birds in my yard each year.

Our county also can ask you to plant up to 3 trees for every tree you cut under a permit!  But as the "good ole boy" tree cutter clarified, you can plant a seedling and if a deer eats it, it is not your fault and no one comes to check. 

I will pay the permit, get permission and now that the county office knows we have planted lots of trees on our own and are not pushing our limits, they do not ask us to plant trees to replace those we bring down.  I can live with it.

Monday Meanderings

Schedule:

The 8-year-old is up at 6:45, but knows he must be quiet and he heads down to the basement to play Angry Birds.
Hubby did not sleep well last night and is still in a deep snore mode until 8:00 A.M.
The 5-year-old...birthday next week...comes down the stair sleepy-eyed at 7:30...early for her!
Breakfast and taking some sliced green apples to the friendly box turtle at the edge of the lawn.
This is followed by an early morning tour of the fairy houses at the art museum, 56 this year (!)...so lucky I live in a nice area for kids.
Lunch is homemade quesadillas and sliced fresh apples with cinnamon...both a big hit.
Then "we" watch the first of the Narnia trilogy while I clean up the kitchen, catch-up with photos and shower and dress.
I quickly run out to the local T++++t, to purchase socks for the boy which mother forgot to pack.
This is followed by a trip to the local county pool which has lots of things for them to do until we leave at 5:00 P.M. for showers, a sliced pear and chocolate cream cheese snack and watching the second in the Narnia series.
I sit here blogging and while waiting to start dinner, I get all the kids laundry done so that they can start with clean clothes this week.  One has already run out of underware!
Dinner will be easy hamburgers on the grill, sweet potato fries and edamame for something green in the diet.
Then it is "free" time until bed and story.
I am still upright, so have no complaints.

Feet Still Not Up #2

I have the two oldest grandchildren through Tuesday of this week.  I think blogging will not be a priority, much less the luxury of putting my feet up.

I sat down just before the youngest dropped his milk and it drip,drip, dripped onto the wooden floor.
I sat down just before the middle child tripped over her own feet and needed an ice pack for her toe.
I sat down just before the oldest needed me to create a scavenger hunt, which is a tradition upon the first days visit which must not be broken.

I sat down just before we decided it was time to harvest crabs.
I sat down just before we decided it was time to take a trip to the playground.
I sat down just before we decided to check out X-Box and DVD sales at Best Buy.

I sat down just before it was time to cook dinner
I sat down just before it was time to get everyone bathed.
I sat down just before it was story time.

One of  these days soon I will be able to put me feet up...!

Put Your Feet Up, I Dare You!!

This past week was a non-stop round of taking vegetables to the food pantry, processing vegetables for the freezer, creating a brochure for the museum, packing for a trip to the mountains planned by my daughter for hubby's 70th, hiking in the mountains, watching little ones and breathing whenever the time allowed.

Hubby dressed much nicer for this hike than he usually does!!

What follows below are the "energy" photos...see if you can keep up.

My new daughter-in-law was complaining discussing mosquitos and how they always loved her.  She said she had sat down at home and put her feet up on a table and a mosquito bit the bottom of her foot.  My daughter (mother of three all below the age of 9 and middle-management consultant who works 50 hour weeks) let her jaw drop before she said, "You put your feet up??  I cannot remember the last time I could do that.  I do NOT want to hear about your tiny mosquito bite."  She did say this with good humor.

This is my new DIL seeing if she can still do a cartwheel.  (Another energy photo.)

This is me looking like I am lost in thought or making a Greta Garbo pose.  I am actually panting and leaning against that rock for support!  I stayed there until a jogger ran by me and shamed me.  (No comments on the color combo and the dangly earrings.  I was barely holding it together this weekend!)

I have not been able to put my feet up until yesterday.  But tomorrow I get the grandchildren again for four days.   So today I have to plan menus and food shop.  I love these kids more than anything in the world, but I do so want to be in the moment with each of them, and that requires lots of energy!

The Liberal Media...wherefore art thou?

Pretty lazy or busy or whatevah...but encourage you to read and see if you agree with this argument about the liberal media.

One Night In Baltimore

Baltimore is an interesting and dynamic city.  It is also a dangerous city.  One can wander just a few blocks off center and find themselves in communities of extreme poverty, communities that are mostly black, and communities where people will fix your car if it breaks down on their street and then drive it away. There was a TV drama show called "The Wire" about crime and the drug trafficking in the city of Baltimore which got positive critical review for its honesty and acting.  It was dark and gritty and the kind of thing us white folks in our safe little homes watch with interest as we might watch a train wreck or analyze cultural diversity.

All of the ugly racism which has crawled out from under our dirty beds and is being displayed on Facebook, Twitter and talking head news shows brought back a memory of something that happened to me a few years ago in Baltimore.  It was a very short incident, and had the city and the character types been different, it would not even be a memory.  I searched to see if I had written about this before, but could not find a related post.

The time of year was August.  Hot town summer in the city.  My husband and I had taken this lengthy drive to celebrate an anniversary.  He was taking me to a favorite fancy restaurant in this town.  I was dressed up more than usual and had shiny swinging earrings and more make up on than I normally wear and was in a dress-up mood.  We had been ignored by our kids for the better part of the summer, and as a reassurance, we were purposely going to celebrate the end of the summer like we used to so many years ago.

We were driving on a brightly lit street downtown in a main tourist area of the city where the weekend evening traffic was picking up.  We came to a red light and hubby stopped the car.  I glanced over to my right at the car next to me.  Inside were four twenty-something black men.  Their hair was in crazy shiny dreadlocks and one had gold earrings and their heads were bobbing back and forth to some music I could not hear.  One of the men said something funny and they all threw back their heads in laughter, their brilliant white teeth like tiny flashlights against their dark black skin in the dark car.  They were having a really good time.

I instinctively broke into a broad smile perhaps feeling glad that others were also in a good mood on this evening.  (Perhaps in the back of my mind hidden way deep somewhere, I realized they might be drug gang members and carrying guns inside or high on cocaine or ecstasy, but this thought did not surface to the front of my mind.)

The driver instinctively turned mid-laugh to look at me.  Our eyes connected for one of those seconds that seen to last for ten as we both sat just a few feet from each other, our proximity almost creating a personal space.  The whites of his eyes were as bright as his teeth.  He clearly saw my smile but I could see he was registering my race, my age and my attitude and so many other things in that second and evaluating me and what I had seen.  I did not stop smiling and since my smile was not some fear-filled reaction but a true feeling of enjoyment at their fun, he suddenly grinned an even bigger grin and tilted his head to me in greeting as the light changed and we both pulled away, hubby making a left turn and the car filled with black young men driving on.

I have no idea what I am trying to convey by writing about this incident.  I am not saying I am some sweet person who can see the good in all and help change the world with a smile (although why not?), or that drug dealers are balanced folks and just need the reasonable smile of some old white lady, or that black men with dreadlocks and earrings and nice cars are even always drug dealers!  Maybe they were Ravens players!  Maybe they were DJ's heading to a wedding?

I guess I am just saying that I wished the world was always like this.  Nonjudgmental and gracious and ending with peaceful departures.

Miscellaneous Opposites That Meet When World's Collide

(I could not come up with a complete Thursday 13...for some reason this goal always eludes me.  If you want to see how an expert plays the game check out Colleen's  posts on Thursday 13 Days!)

That cute little ten-year-old ring bearer in the gray suit in those earlier wedding pictures that I posteed looks so precious and gentlemanly, doesn't he?  He walks like a careful dancer across the grass holding the hand of his baby brother.  At 10:00 P.M., when his family was leaving after the wedding celebration, the same young man left the front door of the country club, took a weird sharp left skip down the driveway and proceeded to fall to the ground and tear open a nice hole at the knee of this $75.00 suit and cut himself a nice knee wound as well.  So this is the way that one gets wear and tear out of a new suit!  The same new suit was used for his first communion just the month before, so I guess it got some use before he outgrew it.

My friend, who is on my landscape committee, has some concerning health problems, one of which is migraine headaches.  She has been taking botox injections in the forehead which have reduced the pain substantially.  BUT she mentioned that she feels weird because she cannot raise her eyebrows even though she thinks that she is trying to convey an expression.  We also cannot tell if she is in a good or bad mood anymore!

On the evening of the 21st and the early morning of the 22nd of this month, my husband and son passed on planes in the night as they both crossed the Pacific Ocean going in opposite directions.  One on his way back from a honeymoon vacation and one on his way to work on a project.

I am allergic to cats and even looking at them can make my eyes itch.  Yet, I have decorated my powder room in cat art.  (I am sure I have posted this information before...bear with me!)

My sage was dying from too much rain and it started to recover and now it seems to be dying from too little rain and too much sun!  I though herbs were easy to grow.

I am alone for 10 days while hubby is on travel.  I wish I could say I was alone.  I have a lawn keeper that I must meet with tomorrow, I have a meeting the day after that with my volunteer group, I have another meeting two days later that I am covering for my husband where I have to help teach gardening to children.  Others days are FILLED with so many errands and activities!  I was actually viewing this as a vacation time not having to cook.   So naive!

It is so charming watching the little goldfinch balance so delicately on the sunflower heads in my garden.  His acrobatic poise and gentle pull on each little seed is fun to watch and then he mushes up the seeds like the hungry bird he is.  It is not so cute when the annoying furry chunky squirrel climbs the sunflower stem and proceeds to snap the stem with his fat belly bending the whole plant to the ground while he goes for the entire head mushes it up permanently!  (A photo post on my other blog will document this tragedy.)

I purchased a container of half and half the other day.  When I was younger half and half meant half milk and half cream, but the label said it was 'fat free'!  I did not realize I had purchased this until I got home because it looked like the regular container of half and half.  Well, it is half skim milk and corn syrup and thickening agents...meaning it may still thicken your waist and has nothing to do with cream although it tastes almost the same. It is opposite of what I wanted to purchase and I hate the way marketers lie to us.

I have grown more addicted to all those British mysteries on TV these days.  Please read the following in a nice British accent.  "Why you might ask do I add this to my list.  I dare say, they do pass the time for one such as I on a warm summer night and the opposites that they bring to the evening are lovely cottages with bunches of pastel flowers hanging over rustic stone walls followed by entry into a room with a well-stocked library and a prone body usually covered in crimson blood."

And my final news that I discovered this week is that space Scientists have provided a photograph of the tiny earth next to Saturn's rings from that distant telescope at a fun new angle from so many miles away.  Our planet is just a spark of light in the photo.  You and I are so small in the grand scheme of things.  But, for additional perspective, science also has discovered a new virus that is 1,000 times larger than any virus known to man and 80% of its DNA is brand new to us.  Science keeps looking inward and outward and finds many new miracles.

(only 10...can you come up with the rest?)

So Lucky

I am lucky today.
It is 4:00 in the morning and still dark outside, but I know it is a lucky day for me.
I look down at my polished toes that rest on the coffee table.
I can wiggle my toes, I am so lucky.
The coffee pot beeps three times to let me know that my coffee is ready.
I can clearly hear its high pitched call.
I am so lucky.
I can smell the rich liquid from the next room.
I am so lucky.
I listen carefully and hear my husband's gentle, regular breathing through the open bedroom door.
He can breathe, I am so lucky.
The fan above my head whirs mixing the cool and warm air across my skin.
I am so lucky.
I stretch fully and can feel the pull off every muscle.
I am so lucky.
There is a new Cook's Illustrated magazine to explore at my side.
I am so lucky.
There are chores to do followed by the reward of accomplishment and need.
I am so lucky.
There is a day of crazy photos and events to peruse posted by crazy Facebook friends.
I am so lucky.
There is another day to live vicariously through my exotic Blogger friends scattered all over the planet.
I am so lucky.
The first light of the sun is teasing and tickling my photographic eye.
I am so lucky.
I have been given another rich day.
I am so lucky.

The Big Day

Eventually the big day arrived. We got up early to head to the country club to deliver cookies, the arbor (homemade by the father of the bride--SUCH a do-it-yourselfer) and the sashes and buttons.  The bride taught everyone how to tie on the sashes which were purchased and how to add the buttons (homemade by the mother of the bride).  We had 165 chairs to cover!

We walked around outside to decide the exact placement of the arbor and tree table and the aisle for the chairs which were to be put out by the rental company in the early afternoon.  Two tents, one for the string quartet and one for the soloist, were already up.  Then the 'girls' were off to get their hair and faces done.

Some of us looked much better than others.

Some of us were fascinated with our new shoes.

But at weddings, once the show is underway, we are all beautiful.  I took so few pictures, because as the mother of the groom I really did want to take time and enjoy the ceremony.  My small point and shoot camera was acting up in the humidity and so got only this blurred photo of my daughter.

And above it the ring bearer, the flower girl and the animal rights activist...all my grandchildren from the sweet lady above.

...and the handsome groom waiting for the bride.

The happy married couple exchanging vows.

The centerpieces were wine bottles that had been saved with wine cork votives.  The flowers were simple but elegant in a fresh way.

And then we danced till...the DJ went home.  He was a great DJ and got everyone out on the floor.  Below in the last photo is hubby and son putting on some moves.  No photos of me, I am waiting for someone to send me some that show the dress.  But thus far just one portrait that doesn't show hair or dress.  The mother of the groom is not a photo opp it appears!

As an aside, hubby's suit jacket and tie were off by the third dance!