I may be a twin but I'm one of a kind. ~ Author Unknown

Sometimes...at the strangest moments...I miss my twin. We shared our mother's womb for half a breath...a blink of an eye...a skip of a heartbeat. But there were two of us. I know. I feel it. And even tho only I was present on our birth day, only I saw the light at the end of the tunnel, you'd started the journey with me.

Where are you, my cosmic twin? Is there a special place in heaven for unborn babies? Those who have such a short beginning and for whatever reasons are ended before they're finished? Will you be there to welcome me someday? Will I know you when I see you?

My song is a lonely one. And, at moments like this, I cry for you.

"I love my life!" ~ Annie Forts (For Clayton)

Yesterday as we were walking home the grandboys stopped in front of a new holistic medicine clinic that recently opened. There's been a younger man working there on and off the past couple of months...he's passed by our house many times pushing a stroller so I know he lives somewhere in our neighborhood. It wasn't until last week that I realized the little boy in his stroller is Down's Syndrome; I had never been close enough or outside when they'd passed by before to notice. But yesterday he was moving a piece of furniture on a dolly to the back of the house and his truck was parked on the curbside with his little boy strapped in to his carseat inside with the doors locked. His movements attracted Dylan, who went over to the truck to peer inside. At first the little boy stared at Dylan, then gave a tentative smile and Dylan said to him, "Hi there, little baby!" But when the toddler realized Dylan was a stranger his face screwed up and he began to fret. Dylan's little heart melted and he crooned to him, "Don't cry, little baby. It's ok!" in the same voice he uses when he talks to the feral kittens thru our living room windows.

In the eyes of a child, there is no such thing as a disability. A crying baby is a crying baby. No labels attached. Just the desire to stop the tears.

There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. ~ Anaïs Nin

I am notoriously gun shy when it comes to having photos of myself taken. I have lots of excuses why. Most of them go back to my childhood, stemming from the nickname bestowed upon me by my brothers and dad: "Moose". From overhearing my mother refer to me as an ugly duckling. From having an older brother I adored turn on me one day and tell me, "You are so ugly!" But, you know....I'm 56 years old and I've finally, in the past six years, become very comfortable with myself in my own skin. And when I glance in the mirror I've come to realize I'm not ugly. With age comes perspective, I suppose. You'd think 36 years of hearing my Dear Hubby and children telling me I'm beautiful would wipe out those old insecurities but it's amazing what we drag along from childhood, isn't it?

With all that said, I still don't like having my photo taken. I read this wonderful entry at my bloggy friend Mel's blog this morning and it really got me to thinking. It even inspired me to write about my lack of enthusiasm....well, actually my sense of dread...whenever a camera is pointed in my direction. The way my face freezes, my gut clenches, my teeth clamp so tightly my jaws ache. And it brought to mind a moment a few weeks back when my grandson Dylan found a used-up disposable camera and pointed it in my direction. He told me, "Grandma, I'm going to take lots and lots of pictures of you!" And when I asked him why he said, "So I can have them forever and ever!" As I said to Mel in the comment I left, there's someone in this world who loves me just the way I am!

I received an email this morning from a site who has accepted an article I wrote for publication. And in the email I was asked if I could send along a photo they can attach to the article. Yikes. If they only knew how few are in existence, ha! But I found one that I actually do love, the one I've included here. Yes, I'm still half-hidden but my arms are full of two of the little people I love most in this world. And I can see I'm not ugly. But try and tell the child within me that.

By the dawn's early light....

(Photo by jikido)

There is something so peaceful about being awake before dawn arrives.
Especially in my beautiful city.
The mountain slumbers in the east,
keeping guard.
Trains mourn.
Voices float past like ghosts.
Wooden joints creak and stretch.
Cat feet thump on the porch.
Wind chimes sing in muted whispers.
And it is all mine,
Alone.

I've got nothing to say but it's ok...good morning! - The Beatles

Well, I'm not really sure if it's a good morning or not. It's gorgeous outside, yes, and I just spent a peaceful half hour watering the flowers and veggies outside. But last nite I had a dream that someone stole the grandboys' stroller off the front porch and when I went out to check this morning...it was gone. How do you like that?! Dear Hubby and I are wondering if the kids' didn't grab it at the last moment Friday when they picked the boys up and headed to the beach...we won't know until they show up later this afternoon to pick up their extra vehicle that they left here. For all the years I've left strollers parked out there, especially since this one was all folded up, I can't imagine anyone would come up and help themselves now because there's usually someone home at either house beside us and both keep a pretty good eye on any activity going on outside. Both Dear Hubby and I got busy at the back of the house while the kids were leaving...me to cook dinner, him to go out and shoot his longbow. So, I dunno. Oh well.

I was just reading Star's blog where she was writing about the weather in her part of the Midwest. 90+ degree temperatures predicted for the next two weeks. And we Northwesterners' complain if we have one or two in a row. My parents were originally from New England and moved out here after WWII to find jobs - they were newlyweds - and I'm so glad they did. I've been to New Hampshire in the summer time and you couldn't pay me enough to live back there. I know my mom missed the four very distinct seasons of weather they experienced every year but I love our temperate, mild climate. Sure, it rains but not as much as people think it does. It's the dreary days of gray clouds and low skies for weeks on end that get to those who live here more than anything, I think. But violent and/or extreme weather conditions rarely happen here. Suits me just fine.

I'm not a huge Sarah McLachlan fan but I recently bought a CD by her called "Laws of Illusion" that I've really been enjoying. I bought "Terrifed" by Katherine McPhee and I haven't even opened it yet. I think I bought it 3 or 4 months ago. And the DVD/FM radio player I bought a couple of months ago still sits on the china closet shelf unopened, too. Shows you how much time I've had to sit and listen to music in the past few months, eh?

I'm reading the book "This Must Be the Place" by Kate Racculia. Very good. I got about half of it done yesterday when Dear Hubby and I went to one of his archery ranges. I hope to kick back on the porch in the glider after church and finish the rest.

So...a quiet weekend.

Every day you'll see the dust as I drive my baby in my Magic Bus ~ The Who

An uneventful week around here. Maybe we're turning a corner? Maybe the boys are finally past the 'constant need' stage and settling more into little-boyhood. I'm finding small kernels of time during the day now where I can sit back and observe...catch my breath...and not be so constantly in demand. Still always available for a hug or a kiss or an arm to grasp as they cuddle up on the couch and lean on my shoulder. But I can claim a bit of myself back.

Cooper roused a bit from his nap yesterday afternoon, calling out for a 'boggy' -- his bottle -- and fussing drowsily. I took him to the rocking chair and rocked him back to sleep as he sucked half-heartedly, gazing down at him and thinking how delicious it is to have a little boy still small enough to fit on my lap - barely. I read other women's blogs, those of harried young mothers, where there are days when they wonder "Will this never end?!" I'm here to tell you that yes, it does. I remember quite clearly from my first time around, being at home with my two children, how long those first few years between birth and Kindergarten seemed to be. And the next thing I knew they were graduating from high school. And now they're in their 30s, almost middle-aged! Well, give or take a few years yet, but you know what I mean. Time. Flies.

That's something we can never get back...Time. We should never, ever wish it away.

We rode the bus on Monday. To one of the malls and back. The bus lady was kind enough to give each boy a ticket, even tho at their ages they ride free. They don't care where they go, they just like to ride. We sat at the very back where every bump in the road caused our bottoms to lift an inch or two off the seats. They loved that. And every ride is an adventure in people-watching and sights to see out the windows. If we get bored, we take a bus ride. Next on the list are two requests: one, to go downtown to one of the parks, take bread, and feed the birds; two, to take the MAX train to the airport to watch jets take off and land. Even I enjoy doing those things.

My two-year-old grandson Cooper thinks I'm magic. Whenever I change his diaper and apply Desitin, he likes to stick his finger into the tube opening and get a little bit on his finger tip. I grab his finger tip and squeeze, wiping all the Desitin off, and when I show him his finger tip again I say, "See, Cooper? It's all gone! Magic!" No matter how many times I do it, it amuses him to no end.

Oh, if only the world was so easy to make happy!

If it's too good to be true, it is. ~ Old Saying

I think my fellow Oregon blogger sums up the status of our current government quite eloquently. And I think most of us can feel her pain.

Eliminate physical clutter. More importantly, eliminate spiritual clutter. ~ Terri Guillemets

Back in the Stone Age I used to watch three soap operas fairly faithfully, mainly because they were the ones my mother watched so they'd be on TV at our house in the afternoons. They were "All My Children", "One Life To Live", and "General Hospital". The story lines were taken up with Tara trying to figure out whether she loved Phil or Chuck, was it? And whether Nikki and Nicole were split personalities, I think? And when Audrey and Steve were a hot item...long before Luke and Laura. Once I got out into my own home, my interest in any soaps pretty much fell away. But 30-to-40-odd-years-later, I can see one on TV at the doctor's office or wherever and I almost feel like I never left. Erika is still there, Victoria is still there. Some things never change.

This brings me to Facebook. I deactivated my account a while back -- just try and DELETE it...I can't figure that out! Anyway, this morning I needed some info and the only place I knew where I could get it is on Facebook so I reactivated it for a few minutes to find what I needed. And I took a little trip down the page. And do you know what I found out? Some things never change there, either. The friends who practically lived on there are still keeping residence. Those who rarely 'reported' still are incognito. Oh well.

I wish I'd kept the email my cousin sent the other day, about life before being totally connected in this world. It was so spot on! And here I am, still struggling to figure out how to find a missed message on my cell phone.....

Food For Thought

I did find the email after all. I edited the not-so-nice stuff out of it:

When I was a kid, adults used to bore me to tears with their tedious diatribes about how hard things were when they were growing up; what with walking twenty-five miles to school every morning.... Uphill... Barefoot... BOTH ways. yadda, yadda, yadda And I remember promising myself that when I grew up, there was no way I was going to lay a bunch of guilt like that on my kids about how hard I had it and how easy they've got it! But now that I'm over the ripe old age of forty, I can't help but look around and notice the youth of today. You've got it so easy! I mean, compared to my childhood, you live in a Utopia!

1) When I was a kid we didn't have the Internet. If we wanted to know something, we had to go to the library and look it up ourselves, in the card catalog!!

2) There was no email!! We had to actually write somebody a letter - with a pen! Then you had to walk all the way across the street and put it in the mailbox, and it would take like a week to get there! Stamps were 5 cents!

3) Child Protective Services didn't care if our parents beat us. A swat on the rear got our attention and didn’t really hurt anything but our pride.

4) There were no MP3's or Napsters or iTunes! If you wanted to steal music, you had to hitchhike to the record store and shoplift it yourself!

5) Or you had to wait around all day to tape it off the radio, and the DJ would usually talk over the beginning and mess it all up! There were no CD players! We had tape decks in our car. We'd play our favorite tape and "eject" it when finished, and then the tape would come undone rendering it useless.

6) We didn't have fancy stuff like Call Waiting! If you were on the phone and somebody else called, they got a busy signal, that's it!

7) There weren't any all-invasive cell phones either. If you left the house, you just didn't make a call or receive one. You actually had to be out of touch with your "friends". OH MY goodness!!! Think of the horror... not being in touch with someone 24/7!!! And then there's TEXTING. Yeah, right. Please! Doesn’t anyone know how annoying they are in public places?

8) And we didn't have fancy Caller ID either! When the phone rang, you had no idea who it was! It could be your school, your parents, your boss, your bookie, your in-laws, the collection agent... you just didn't know!!! You had to pick it up and take your chances, mister!

9) We didn't have any fancy PlayStation or Xbox video games with high-resolution 3-D graphics! You actually had to use your imagination!!!

10) You had to use a little book called a TV Guide to find out what was on! You were out of luck when it came to channel surfing! You had to get off the couch and walk over to the TV to change the channel!!! NO REMOTES!!!

11) There was no Cartoon Network either! You could only get cartoons on Saturday Morning. Do you hear what I'm saying? We had to wait ALL WEEK for cartoons!

12) And we didn't have microwaves. If we wanted to heat something up, we had to use the stove! Imagine that!

13) And our parents told us to stay outside and play... all day long. Oh, no, no electronics to soothe and comfort. And if you came back inside... you were doing chores!

14) And car seats - oh, please! Mom threw you in the back seat and you hung on. If you were lucky, you got the "safety arm" across the chest at the last moment if she had to stop suddenly, and if your head hit the dashboard, well that was your fault for calling "shot gun" in the first place!

And you know what? With all these modern day conveniences supposedly invented to make our lives easier...are they, really??

Guess what my grandboys brought me this week.

Flowers!

Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many. ~ Author Unknown

Let me just say this:

Hopscotch at 56 sure isn't what it was at 6!

There are two lasting bequests we can give our children: one is roots. The other is wings. ~ Hodding Carter, Jr.

Today was a day filled with sidewalk chalk and pulling weeds, of filling yard debris bags and checking out the tomatoes on the vines. Of walking out on the back porch this morning and watching my grandboys' mouths drop open at the site of their 'new' playsets and Dylan telling me, "Grandma, it looks like a playground out here!" Watching their delight and listening to their laughter bubble forth as they climbed up and down and slid and rocked and had the absolute time of their lives. It was a walk around the neighborhood at 6:45 in the morning, watching the world wake up and stopping at the nearby bakery for blueberry and cinnamon muffins. A day for cuddling under their 'blankies' on the front porch glider and watching a woodpecker pecking away at bugs on the sidewalk. Watching Dylan's awe and utter concentration as he tiptoed up to a hummingbird drinking from the lavender plants, getting within inches of it before it flew away. Of watching the little black-capped chickadees flying in and out of our neighbor's bird house, busy feeding their babies. Watching my grandbabies slumber peacefully during their naps.

It was a good day.

A good book on your shelf is a friend that turns its back on you and remains a friend. ~ Author Unknown

I read a book over the weekend, most of it on Sunday. It was called "The Nobodies Album" by Carolyn Parkhurst. I liked it well enough I put her other two books on hold at the library. Now I'm reading "Perfect Reader" by Maggie Pouncey, her debut novel. I'm sorry it's her debut...I wish she had a few more I could put on hold, too, but instead I have to sit patiently and see eventually what else she might have stored up inside of her that needs to get out. Because isn't that every writer's dilemma? Words just need to work their way to the surface and pour out on paper...or screen...depending on how you like to write.

A dull ache that never leaves, hovering in the center of our psyche.

Dear Hubby and I are so blessed with wonderful friends and neighbors. Yesterday afternoon we got a call from an old hunting buddy of Dear Hubby's whose wife had been a SAHG, too, and Roger asked if we'd be interested in having some backyard playset items for Dylan and Cooper to play on. Their grandkids have outgrown them and they wanted to get them out of their yard. He brought over a climbing tower, a rocking elephant, and a slide as well as a plastic child-sized picnic table so won't the grandboys be surprised when we open the back door sometime today and they step out on the back porch! I'm keeping the picnic table in here...it's the perfect size for Cooper especially to sit down and eat at. I'm sure the play items will keep them busy for the rest of the summer!

We are plagued with mosquitoes this summer. Usually we might have a few but with June being nothing but one rainy day after another, then being slammed with 3 days of almost 100 degree heat at the beginning of July, it's mosquito heaven out there. I've found a non-toxic natural mosquito repellent that seems to be helping the boys a lot. Dylan, unfortunately, is very allergic to mosquito and flea bites...they swell up on him and get heads ful of pus. Nasty, pesty critters...how dare they bite his tender skin!

Gotta scoot...enjoy your day!

You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give. ~ Kahlil Gibran

I got a phone call Saturday afternoon from my son. "Mom, you have a grandson here who's wanting to talk to you. Do you have a minute?"

"Well, sure," said I.

And on the line comes Dylan. Crying. "Grandma, I'm really missing you!"

"Well, sweetheart, I'm really missing you, too. But you'll be coming over tomorrow afternoon for an hour or so."

"I know, Grandma, but I'm missing you right now!"

How quickly, as we grow older, we forget the urgency and the intensity of our childhood emotions. If I think back on the time when my mother had foot surgery and my two older brothers and I were sent off to stay with some very close out-of-town family friends for the week she was on crutches...I was 6 at the time...I still can feel the absolute misery and feelings of abandonment deep in my gut. I had never been away from home before that, and at the age of 6 that week felt like an eternity. I have never been so homesick in my life. Never again do I want to feel that abject sense of missing someone.

When my son dropped Dylan off yesterday afternoon he told me that Dylan had said to him after he got off the phone, "Daddy, I'm having a really bad day!" So as I took Dylan out for a walk I asked him, "Why were you having such a bad day, Dyl?" and he told me, "Because I was missing you so much."

I love the fact that he loves me. But I don't want that love to be a burden to him. And I'm sure as he grows older and the parameters of his life broaden out he'll depend on me less and less for security. Which is the way it should be. But right now I bask in the warmth of his love. And Coopy's, too. Cooper's is deep and intense as well, but he's of a more independent nature. His love is in the here and now. Dylan wears his heart on his sleeve. Their love is not a burden to me, that's for sure. It's a gift, and one I am thankful for and treasure every day. And I never ever want to do anything to jeopardize it, to take it for granted. Because they don't have to love me. They choose to love me. I can't make them love me. But I am grateful they do.

Attitudes are contagious. Are yours worth catching? ~ Dennis and Wendy Mannering

People I meet are always amazed to hear I've been married for 36 years. To the same man. And quite happily, too. Oh, mercy...we are far, far from perfect, mind you. But we seem to know how to navigate both smooth and stormy waters together. We know when to talk and when to shut up. Most of the time, anyway. And in 36 years together I think we've gone to bed without speaking to each other maybe a handful of times, if that. By morning it's been shucked off and we start afresh and leave the mutual bad moods behind.

Today was a perfect example. I got up and I was irritable. Two nites of sweaty non-sleep after three days of almost 100 degree heat didn't exactly have me singing "Good Morning to You!" as I clumped off to the kitchen to pour my coffee and heat up my bagel. When Dear Hubby got up half an hour later we both kind of mumbled "Morning" to each other and left it at that. He's been nursing a rotten head cold and I know - because I was awake most of the nite - he'd had a restless sleep at best. Whenever he gets a cold his voice sinks down in to his chest and drops about 10 octaves. It rumbles but it doesn't project very far. So as he mumbled to himself - well, to me, actually, but I couldn't hear him because of the fans going - and I didn't respond he got a little bit...testy...and I got a little bit...snippy. And as he left a few minutes later to go over to our church grounds to do some vacuuming he told me, "Have a nice day!" as he went out the door and I told him to have a WONDERFUL day in return...tho neither of us were very sincere about it. I got ready and went to Fred Meyer and Walmart to do my weekly shopping, my sour mood hovering over me like a cloud. People kind of veered past me. I think I had a "Better leave me alone if you want to live!" air about me. Smart. But as I wandered up and down the aisles of Fred Meyer's I had one of those ear worm songs start playing in my head: "God Bless You...You make me feel brand new...", an oldie by The Stylistics. Over and over again. And at first I didn't pay it any mind, just hummed the tune and murmured the words to myself. But then I found myself really listening to the words in my head. I also noticed a couple of women around my age buying scarcely any groceries...just a few items that seemed to be for them alone. I began counting my blessings. Sure, I had about $150 worth of groceries in my cart. But a good portion of them were for my two healthy and beautiful grandboys. I was taking them home to a family who loves me. Waiting there was a man who's been thru thick and thin with me and still loves me even on our yuck days like today started out being. I have two wonderful kids. A roof over my head. I mean...yes, I AM blessed.

So...I got home. And Dear Hubby came out to meet me as I parked and helped carry in the groceries. I began putting them away and he sat down at the computer to tinker around for a bit. I went over to him at the desk here and told him about my ear worm song. About how I really began listening to it and thinking about it. About how thankful I am that even on days when we start out cranky we get over it and move on from there and have a good day together. No grudge-holding. He agreed. And he went off to the church again and I've been tinkering around the house. When he gets home around 3 we may go out to the archery range if he feels well enough. I got some books from the library this morning to take along just in case. And if he doesn't feel well enough we've got several movies taped on the DVR so we can sit together and enjoy those this evening.

Nope, no divorce court for us.

Oh, and speaking of the library...if you're still with me here...I had a little chat with the Supervisor at the branch where I go most of the time. Three times now, when I've had Dylan and Cooper with me, one of the librarians there has referred to Dylan as a 'special' child, to me and in front of Dylan. Sure, he may look like he's 8 years old but he's only a few months past turning 4. And yes, he's been a late talker but most of his conversation is intelligible. He is not a special needs child...just extremely tall for his age. His dad was a late talker, too. I felt it needed to be addressed, and I did it very nicely. The Supervisor apologized all over herself and said she'll bring it to her staff's attention immediately. I didn't tell her which librarian has done it...maybe the woman isn't even aware she's doing it. But hopefully this will make them all a little more sensitive about what they say. Especially in front of a child. I dunno about you, but my memory goes a long way back and I can remember harsh or mean things said to me, especially by my paternal grandfather. You may forgive, but you never forget. And I don't want comments like that librarian's altering my grandson's feelings about himself in any way.

He enjoys true leisure who has time to improve his soul's estate. ~ Henry David Thoreau

Just living is not enough. One must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower. ~ Hans Christian Anderson

1. What are doing while the football world cup is on? The World Cup? What's the World Cup?!

2. What picks you up when you're down? My grandboys, a day alone, reading a good book, listening to music, gardening.

3. Indian or China...we're talking tea here, not economics... Where does Green Tea fall in to it? I am addicted to iced green tea.

4. What do you value most about blogging? Having a place to come that's totally my own. Where I'm always welcome and always feel comfortable and accepted for myself.

5. What can't you bring yourself to throw out of your wardrobe? My cruddy old bathrobe.

6. Would you rather someone didn't ask your views on controversial issues? I just change the subject if we're getting in to something I'm not comfortable talking about.

7. Do you recommend people..and then wish you hadn't? The only time I've ever regretted recommending someone was to my Dear Hubby. They needed a new worker at the company where he's Supervisor and I recommended the husband of a co-worker of mine several years ago. Little did I know that he was a heavy drug user! But he got caught on a random drug test. It taught me a valuable lesson...to KNOW personally who I recommend and not take someone else's word for them!!

8. Do you own up to reading light novels, or hide them under the cushions if visitors arrive? I read anything that catches my interest. I don't really care what anyone else thinks about the books I read.

9. Content with your own company or gregarious? Some days I feel I could easily be one of those eccentric little old ladies who live off by themselves in the woods with flora and fauna to keep me company. Once Dear Hubby dies...if he goes before me...that's it.

10. One thing which would noticeably improve your life. More time.

And I love to live so pleasantly, live this life of luxury, lazing on a sunny afternoon... ~ The Kinks

1. It's 2 AM and you are not home. You are most likely: In a hospital emergency room. I can't remember the last time I was not home at 2 AM.

2. What's the last thing you spent more than $100 on? Having a leak fixed in the basement over Memorial Day weekend.

3. What do your bank checks look like? Very plain jane...light blue, I think, with just the basics. I hardly ever use them any more!

4. Where did the shirt you are currently wearing come from? A thrift store.

5. Name something that will be on your Christmas wish list: That all my family is together, safe and healthy.

6. What color is your toothbrush? Orange.

7. Name something you collect and tell us about it. I collect handmade pottery. It's all unique and I like the 'earthiness' of it.

8. Last restaurant you ate at. Who were you with? How was it? Yankton Store. Dear Hubby. Excellent Chef Salad. He had a buffalo burger, also very good.

9. Who was the last person you bought a birthday card for? My youngest sister-in-law. On time for once, too!

10. What is your worst bad habit? I no longer have it, but I used to bite my fingernails for 43 years.

11. Name a magazine you subscribe to? Better Homes & Gardens.

12. Your favorite pizza toppings? Canadian Bacon, pineapple, olives, and mushrooms.

13. Whose number were you looking up the last time you used a phone book? Bill's Automotive.

14. Other than family, who is the person that you love most? My best friend Lizzee.

15. What is the last thing you cooked? Chili for Cooper.

16. Name something you wouldn't want to buy used? Underwear!

17. Which shoe do you put on first? My right. I had to stop and think about that one!

18. What is the last thing you remember losing? My keys...forever and always.

19. What is the ugliest piece of furniture in your house? Our couch.

20. Last thing you bought and ended up returning? A Discman/FM radio combo that was broken.

21. What perfume/cologne do you wear? If none, why? Tabu. I've worn it most my adult life. It's one of the few I've ever been able to wear myself because I'm allergic to most. It's my "mommy smell" and every time Dear Hubby comes up and sniffs me, he tells me I smell wonderful.

22. Your favorite board game? Trivial Pursuit.

23. What was the last board game you played? I can't remember the last time I played one. Over at the kids' house a few years ago?

24. Where did your vehicle come from? A used car lot! Nah...Japan originally.

25. If a movie was made about your life what would the theme song be? "Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes" by David Bowie.

26. You're sad, who can cheer you up easily? My grandboys.

27. What was the color of the bridesmaid dresses of the last wedding you went to? Hmmmm....haven't been to a wedding in several years. Can't remember...I don't pay attention to those kinds of details. A wedding is a wedding is a wedding....

28. What house cleaning chore do you hate to do the most? Cleaning the toilet.

29. What is your favorite way to eat chicken? Oven-fried, then cold.

30. It is your birthday. You hope the cake is? Chocolate.

The more help a man has in his garden, the less it belongs to him. ~ William M. Davies

Today it's supposed to be in the upper 90s. Yesterday's high was 84. The day before that: 60. We have definitely...finally...jumped in to summer. It's been a long time since we've had such a long-lasting cool, rainy summer. Our 'saving grace', so to speak, is that a dry, warm wind is blowing, too, keeping the stickiness away. Not that we often have high humidity here in the Pacific Northwest, but anything over 60% is considered kind of uncomfortable. My sympathies go out to the rest of the nation sweltering in 90+ degree heat with around 90% humidity. How on earth do you people do it?! I spent one July in New England in 1968 that was one of the hottest on record up to that time and I have never been so miserable in my life. Or so sunburned after a day at the beach. A day on the Pacific coast...at least up here in Oregon and Washington...is nothing like a day on the Atlantic.

I've had a few people ask for pictures of my yard. I'm going to see if I can use my daughter's phone to snap a few to post. She can then email them to me and I can put them on here. Technology amazes me. And I used to think Polaroid cameras were pretty slick.

The grandboys and I will be spending most of the day at the pool today...the kiddie pool in the back yard, that is. They 'helped' me mow the white clover blossoms yesterday in preparation for today...don't want tender little feet running around and stepping on bees. I can't imagine what kind of picture we must've made with the boys on either side of me pushing that old hand mower around...my daughter sure seemed to get a good chuckle out of it. We had planned on getting the pool ready yesterday but the boys took a long nap. Instead, they took their child-sized shovels and shoveled mown grass - from Dear Hubby's mowing with the power mower - off the compost pile in to a yard debris bag. That kept them busy and happy for the hour or so before their dad picked them up. That, and playing whiffle ball.

I got this photo of Scarlet Sage off the internet. I have a huge bush of it and it's in full glorious bloom right now. It's irresistible to hummingbirds. The other day when Dear Hubby was out back shooting targets with his longbow a hummingbird came along and perched atop the tip of his bow! We seem to get more and more of them every year.

A quiet week, a nice week. We'll probably go on our walk early this morning before the heat arrives. Burgers on the grill tonite. Life doesn't get much sweeter than this.

I'd rather have roses on my table than diamonds on my neck. ~ Emma Goldman

I planted some of these in my flowerbeds along the west side of the house this weekend. Icelandic poppies in bright orange and yellow. Between the lavender bushes just coming on to vibrant purple bloom, the huge dwarf fuchsia, delicate lilies, and the scarlet sage...well, to say it's rather colorful is putting it mildly! I'd had some columbine and Jupiter's Beard planted in the area where I put the poppies but I noticed they were looking pretty bleached-out and forlorn...time to give the soil a huge dose of steer poop and some new color! That's what I love about flower gardening...you get tired of something, you rip it up and start fresh. I also put out poles for the green beans to start twining up...they're looking especially green and healthy. The tomato plants have tons of blossoms and itty-bitty tomatoes growing on them. The zucchini and cucumber plants are bushing out and looking good, too. Can't wait 'til I can start harvesting fresh veggies!!

There is something so satisfying about gardening. It was something I never appreciated until I was well in to my 30s. As a kid, any yard work we did was enforced labor dictated by our dad. It usually took place on one day each summer...usually the hottest day...when he'd go outside armed with a shovel and start digging plants and weeds and tossing them every which way. My brothers and I would pile it all on to the wheelbarrow, where it would eventually end up unceremoniously dumped in a corner of the back yard. Then, it was left up to Mother Nature as to what she could reclaim from his horticultural assault! But in my 30s, when my beloved Aunt Gin was diagnosed with colon cancer in her later 70s, I began cleaning her home once a week. When the summer months came on she asked me if I'd help tend the garden and her yard which were absolutely beautiful. I told her I didn't know much but if she'd guide me I'd do what I could. So spending time in the yard also became a part of my weekly routine. I don't think a bug of any type ever dared to enter her yard. Her roses were gorgeous...her vegetables to die for. She was always so generous in sharing all of her bounty. And as she instructed me I learned to love it, too. But in those years we were renters...Dear Hubby mowed the grass and that was the extent of our yard work. Then the opportunity came up to begin buying the house. But darling Aunt Gin had passed away. We mowed for a few more years. And then I was contacted by a family in my church to see if I'd be willing to help their elderly mother a few days a week, a 96-year-old lady who was still able to live independently but who needed help with housework and shopping and going to the hairdresser's. I agreed to it and spent the next 2 1/2 years being a companion to one of the most delightful human beings I've ever had the privilege to know. And the first summer with her she asked if I'd be willing to plant her flower boxes and help care for a couple of hanging fuchsias she had on her front porch. Again, I told her I didn't know much about gardening but she just pooh-pooh'ed me and told me, "It's easy!" And she proceeded to pass on her knowledge to me.

I started in on our yard. Our house was built in 1912 and in the many years it had been a rental it had been sorely neglected, allowed to grow weeds and grass back to the foundation. A couple of ugly evergreen shrubs were the only decoration out front. Oh, how I could kick myself for not taking Before-and-After photos, and photos of progress thru the years!! It took a couple of years just to dig out all the flowerbeds I wanted. The soil was so poor and nutrient-starved it took multiple bags of steer poop and mulch to build it up where it could support any life. And at first I planted annuals, only to realize it was money wasted every year. So I began planting perennials, especially more old-fashioned perennials to fit in with the age of our Craftsman bungalow. And now, these many years later, it's lovely. It's peaceful. A haven for birds and bumblebees. Wind chimes tinkle. Birds bathe in the bird bath. If you sit out on the back porch it's private and quiet with only the sound of the wind whispering thru the huge trees that border our back yard.

It's been hard work. Back-breaking work.

But it's been a labor of love.

Mirth is God's medicine. Everybody ought to bathe in it. ~ Henry Ward Beecher

Would you like to have a good chuckle some time today? Go here and see if it doesn't put a smile on your face.

They say genes skip generations. Maybe that's why grandparents find their grandchildren so likeable. ~ Joan McIntosh

I hope none of you out there who read my blog are under the false impression that I'm the perfect grandmother. I'm not. I'm definitely human. I have my days where I'm totally burned out. Where I wish I was doing anything but what I'm doing. Wishing for adult conversation. For an hour of peace and quiet.

And then along comes a day like yesterday.

I have noticed recently another grandmother strolling past with a newborn grandchild on a daily basis but I've never been outside when she's walked by. Yesterday morning the grandboys and I were out in the front yard tossing out bread crumbs to the birds when she came by and we struck up a conversation. She's visiting out here from Port Huron, Michigan, where she's a middle school teacher. She's taking care of her new grandson until the first of August when she has to return to her 'real world'. And already she's worrying about the fate of her little grandson, as is her son and daughter-in-law, concerned about handing him over to complete strangers for day care. They've found a Baptist church nearby that provides day care and that's where the little guy will be headed once Grandma goes home. But they're still wondering...praying...that this will be the right decision, that he'll be well taken care of and safe there. It is in moments like that one when I want to speak up and say, "I'll do it! He'll be safe and well-loved with me!" but I know that's pure craziness on my part. As much as I'd love to do it, it's beyond me now. 30 years ago, no problem. But at 56...sadly, no.

And even on the days where I tell my grandsons, "Grandma is tired and grumpy! Can you please quiet down?!" or when I'm finally sitting down for 5 seconds and Dylan comes along with a hand outstretched and says, "Grandma, come see the baby kitties!" outside the windows when I don't know if I can get up one. more. time. Even with all my weaknesses. Human-ness. I am still Grandma. And they know they're adored. They know I'm here for them. That I can kiss away boo-boos, wipe away tears. Dole out hugs by the truckload. Watch "Thomas the Train" DVDs for the thousandth time and still oooooh and ahhhhhhh at the right moments. Play pirate ship and race cars with the best of them. Dance around the living room. Wrestle on the floor. Pitch whiffle balls in the back yard. They have the luxury of being safe and secure without even realizing there are places out there where they could be staying that aren't.

It is my gift to them. Free of charge. These years are hard work. But time is fleeting. So fleeting. And tomorrow they will start school. And the next day they'll be graduating. And I will have the satisfaction of knowing I had a part in it all. That for these few years, they've been mine.