Day 2 Day radishes

August 3/ I am coming back

Just a short note to let you know I will be blogging again soon.  Today is the last day that NoName and family are here.  So we are soaking up our time together, and needless to say finishing off unfinished jobs.    The car comes to get them at 8:00 am tomorrow. 

She and I are just back from the Pacific Northwest Writers Conference  about which I have a few things to say.  No we did not sell a thing, but at least NoName can finish a book and she has an agent who will look it over.  

Hopefully in my departing grief, I will find solice in posting. 

December 8/ Thing 3

Bad Grandma. I forgot to post a precious granddaughter’s birthday. And a precious granddaughter Thing 3 is. Thing 3 is now ten, and her mother already has empty nest syndrome. This is a picture taken in July with a pumpkin start which she planted. The pumpkin plant grew three pumpkins, small, medium and large. The largest about 16-18 inches in diameter. I will say that that afternoon was one of my five most enjoyable times of the 2008. To actually have a granddaughter help and be enthusiastic in the garden. And. . . She could lift heavy things. She had just had her hair cut for Locks of Love. And I have had the chance to relive that afternoon writing this post.

November 17/ Grandsons

I have been asked if the Great Depressing is a play on words. Yes. This is what I am calling this particular period.

One of the components of the Great Depressing is our youngest grandson, who is two, the doctors have decided that he has bones which are not dense. He has proper calcium in his blood and urine, but it is apparently not being converted to his bones. He is going to a geneticist for further diagnosis. But this will take time to get an appointment. This child is very active and when he is healed, he can run around the kitchen/living room loop for 15 minutes. He has great accuracy throwing a ball. Pitching as a profession is out for him. So far we have been told that we are to not put him in a bubble and that he is to lead a normal life, and we are to expect broken bones.

On a more positive note, I went to my eleven year old grandson’s Karate testing. I saw him tested when he was quite young. While interesting when my child was exhibiting, I was less impressed having to go through the other young students test. None the less, I went this Saturday to this particular test. I had no clue what it was like. The event was held in a gym and kids of 9 to about 12 where all on the floor at the same time. Each child had three chances to perform a set of different actions which were changed according to your capability and your belt. It was lots of fun to see everyone work together even though there were different skill levels. My grandson’s partner got too close to him and actually hit my grandson sending him to the floor.

At the end of the program, the owner of the club and some seventy plus year old man spoke to the students about life, being positive, and looking to the future. He wanted the students to place their thoughts on positive ideal and if they wanted to be like an eagle, think like an eagle. I found this event very refreshing and affirming.

November 7/ Real work

  What a difference a couple of days makes. For a month I have been trying to defend the free world. I thought I was pretty important. Then I went and took care of my four and two year old grandsons for two days. God, and I do mean God, please save and protect our young mothers. Guess how many Lego pieces there are at their house? These can only be picked up by crawling on the floor. Thousands. Guess how many little minute toy animals there are at their house? Several hundred. Forget the number of pajama bottoms on the floor. How many bowls of vegetable soup can be eaten? None.

Do you want your poopy diapers changed? Hysterics. Ah leave it for his mother. He doesn’t care, I don’ t care. Enter four year old. He comes up to me, and stares with his nearly black eyes. “This is the history of Star Wars.” Having myself only seen three Star Wars, Darth Vader as a child was news to me. George tells me the family tree and who got killed along the way.

I do not know if his account was exactly correct, but I know that he was absolutely totally sincere. In fact he was trying very hard to tell the truth. Star Wars is a long and complicated story. A four year old was doing a pretty good job. It is amazing what little adults can remember especially when it comes to US history.

August 20/ LA apartment

In 1960 I was married, and it was also the year of my first Presidential election. Then the voting age was 21. I lived in a housing development in Los Angeles where it was built by a large insurance company. The development must have been nice in their fresh beginnings. When we lived there the apartments were just above seedy, but for newlyweds the apartments were open and spacious and had grass. One of the reasons that I am thinking about our first apartment is that it is currently very hot here, and it was very hot in that apartment. When we opened the windows, what we heard was Yiddish. There was a wash house, but no driers, and we hung the laundry out to dry. Someone stole all of my new trousseau underwear. They were regular panties as no self respecting girl at that time would own a thong.

The other reason I am thinking about that apartment is that last night I went to a political gathering, and about that more later. But in that time in Los Angeles, when I went to vote, I was the only Republican in my precinct. My husband at the time was registered as an Independent. Election day you can imagine my shock when outside the voting establishment I read the list, there were pages of Democrat names, and I was the only name on the Republican list. Even my husband was not the only Independent. The woman handed me my ballot in such a way that I felt she was saying, “so you’re the freak.”

The election was Kennedy and Nixon, and I had voted for Nixon. Our friends, another newly married couple, and we laid on Mr. Radish’s and my double bed, four abreast, (we were thin in those days) watching election returns, drinking beer, disgusted.

August five/ Boy gone hurting

This child is almost two years old and he is approximately the same weight as the box of blueberries I bought last week.  In February this kid broke his arm because he walked off  the kitchen bench where he had climbed.  Then before he was out of his arm cast, he broke his leg. And he was taken to the doctor here to have his leg set.  While the leg was broken, it had been broken for three weeks and  by now his bone had started to heal.  We were especially happy because in addition, the doctor took  the arm cast off.  Today as I post this, the little darling in the stroller is having a cast put on his splinted leg.  This cunning little character needs to give his mother a rest. The score is Toddler 12 vs. Mother 0. With the leg set, and pain eliminated, he needs to go toddler boot camp.  I am on her team.  On the way home from the doctor, I hope she throws his bink out the window.  You go girl.

August 5/ attached to post below

Some times it is just better to give up and start again.  These photos go with the post below. The man and woman are Frank and Kara Hunt.  I took many pictures of them and she was always moving and so the pictures are blurred.  How fortuneate that the one picture that did work showed how much he loved her and how happy she was.   

July 19/ Eat it and you vill like it.

How to make sandwiches for a crowd of adults and kids?  I have studied this.  The fastest and easiest way may not be what you think: telling them to make their own.  No, the easiest way is to send a kid out with a pad and pencil and have them take orders. Mayo, mustard, mayo/mustard, turkey, salami, peanut butter, peanut butter and jelly, white cheese, orange cheese. The up side of this is that people generally get what they want, and if you know what consumers  want, one or two cooks can whip them out in no time at all, and all the waffling decisions are made away from the kitchen. This also takes away the Mommy factor of saying no to what Mommy suggests.   At our house most kids want a riff on peanut butter. After some experimentation, I decided on a whole sandwich regardless of what they said they wanted.  This is better than having kids say they are hungry right after the food is put away.  Regardless of your age, size or shape,   you get a whole sandwich. 

Speaking of peanut butter.  When the children were here last week, I tried to make some sort of decent meals, remembering my mother , green vegetables, and protein etc. Also I liked having a good meal.  Next summer, for kids,  I am  thinking of a menu of peanut butter and jelly, three times a day until further notice with the exception of a quesadilla as the only viable diversity, with fruit optional, especially plums. My mother made me carrot sticks every day of my life when I was a kid.   Carrot sticks are out for today’s kids. 

It did occur to me late in the week, that orphanages probably did not put out well rounded meals.  It was gruel, gruel, gruel. 

July 18/Bathroom justice

There is someone I know who has stayed at my house who has trouble flushing toilets. One day this summer it was reported by my sister-in-law Radish that there was a filled toilet in the downstairs bathroom. Pumping up my blood pressure a few octaves, I went and found who I knew to be the culprit. Further, I was hoping for this practice to end permanently. Privately, I explained the reasons for flushing, and this person said he was trying. I went ballistic over that comment and said I was trying to like poop in the toilet, but I couldn’t.

What would be a punishment that he would remember?” I don know”, he said. I thought and thought but was falling short of what I thought would be memorable, and I then changed my tact. I asked myself, what would be useful to me, for him to do. Finally, I said that he would take care of his young cousin for an hour. I had found his nerve. “I can’t”, he cried, “I just can’t. They need me in the game.” (Dungeons and Dragons.) Tears spurt straight out from his eyes. Truly they went two inches. “I can’t”, he cried back,” and I screamed back, “ I can not have poop in my toilets.” He did take care of the two year old for an hour.

The next day, my sister-in-law reported that there was feces on the bathroom wall. My heart fell. I knew that I was going to be the one to deal with this. Mr. Radish said that he would verify the situation. Yes, he confirmed that it was poop on the wall. He said that it could have been an accident if a person were in a real hurry to hit the toilet. In addition, he knew who it was as there was a pair of underwear sitting at the foot of the toilet. The attending Mother was asked to deal with whom we perceived to be the culprit. When she arrived back to our waiting, and downhearted adult group, and she showed no signs of combat. The “culprit” said, “Oh that is my brother’s plum and he missed the waste basket”, and he threw the stuck plum in the waste basket. The attending Mother affirmed that it included the pit.

So what do we have here? My husband is going to deal with his cataracts. There are reasons that the innocent are still innocent until proven guilty. And three, there are happy endings.

July 15/ elderly

This week has been Camp Radish. Mr. Radish and I, and the sister of Mr. Radish have been the caretakers of three grandsons for a week. Late in the week two more grandsons showed up with a couple of mothers. At the end of the week , the senior Radish’s toured to a destination town for lunch at a restaurant our parents and their parents would have liked, quiet., sedate, old, semi French. And we did not exceed the speed limit to get there. The restaurant did have good food, and it was on the water but there were not enough umbrellas, so it was a inside, window table for us. My sister in law had on her summer pants outfit which is at least ten years old, and I had worn a dotted swiss blouse with ruffles for sleeves over my very large arms. If that was not enough, on the way, my husband’s Chinese shirt ripped about eight inches and his furry flesh was hanging out. I have nearly always noticed older couples touring. I thought I hoped it never happens to me or at least I would do it more attractively. But as I left that restaurant I said, “It has come to this.”

Later in the evening when the kitchen was cleaned up, we sat on the deck our chairs lined up as the elderly on a steamer down the Nile finishing off our wine. We agreed, this was the life.