The Possible's slow fuse is lit By the Imagination. ~ Emily Dickinson

My front porch spent a couple hours today as a Cor-Mor space ship.  What is Cor-Mor?  I don't know.  But to my two little grandsons it was as real to them as if they were on an actual space ship flying thru the Milky Way.  I bought them a couple of cheap foam pirate swords a month or so ago that have fought more battles, killed more bad guys, than I can even count.  Today they were light sabres fighting the four-handed robots.  My finger was a laser gun that 'killed' all the robot ships (any car, truck, or school bus) that drove past our house.  I was Cor-Mor Grandma and every time Captain Dylan and Cor-Mor Cooper left the ship Cooper would wave at me and say, "Bye, Cor-Mor Grandma!  I love you!" as he dashed off to battle.  Cooper had an imaginary computer at my end of the porch, Dylan had his at the other end.  They would stand there and pretend-type on their keyboards and then meet by the steps and make up their battle plan for attack.  My job?  It was to push a nail every now and then on one of the posts that was the "On" switch for turning the space ship on.  I also had an imaginary lever on my chair I had to shift every now and then for more power.

I don't know who had more fun, them or me.

Isn't imagination a wonderful thing?  Isn't it sad, the day we 'come of age' where all of a sudden we've lost the ability to imagine, where playing isn't really fun anymore?  My Dear Hubby remembers his day very well.  It was a day where he went to play GI Joes with a cousin and realized he didn't feel like playing it any more.  For me, it was a day I sat down with my childhood best friend Angie to play Barbie dolls, and I couldn't think of a thing I wanted my Barbie to do.  I put the doll down and told Angie, "I don't feel like doing this any more."

Not that we adults don't 'imagine' things.  But our imaginary images tend to be more negative..  We can imagine the world economy crashing.  We can imagine a tornado coming straight at us and demolishing our home.  We seem to have lost the whimsy side of imagination...the world where whatever we dream is as real as the nose on our face.  Where horses can fly and cats can play fiddles.  Where cows truly do jump over the moon.

I feel very privileged to have two little grandsons who know I'll imagine right along with them, to be included in their games and never "pooh pooh" whatever their minds are dreaming up as we go.  I have to dig back 50 years or so to take myself  mentally to their ages and remember how real my space ships and horses I rode thru the mist on the school playgrounds on cold autumn mornings were,  But I still can.  And I feel very blessed to be able to do so.  If nothing else, I hope my little grandsons will still turn to me one day and say like they do now, "Grandma, we sure have fun at your house!"

Homesick: depressed or melancholy at being away from home and family

I just thought you might like to see a fairly recent photo of me with my children and grandchildren.  This was taken on Mother's Day over at my son's house.  The only person missing, of course, is Dear Hubby.  I posted this on my Facebook page with the caption saying something about how lonely a Mother's Day it would've been if we hadn't all been able to move here to Michigan together.  I couldn't imagine my life without them all being in it on a daily basis.

It is so hot and so humid today, Memorial Day.  We are again heading out to our son's house for a barbecue.  Well, barbecue beef sandwiches.  I'm not sure we'll be cooking anything on the grill.  Or if we'll sit outside.  Or in the house in central air-luxury.  We have central air.  We also have a humidifier.  But do we know how to activate them?  No.  Never had to use air conditioning in the Northwest.  We'd have our hot days there but never enough to warrant going out and spending a small fortune on air conditioning units.  Fans did us quite nicely, thank you.  This morning Dear Hubby and I noticed moisture on the linoleum floor in the basement.  Kind of like a very slight 'dew', I guess you'd call it.  We've never experienced that before, either.  A west coast friend who lived back here was on Facebook and I asked her if this was normal.  She told me yes, and it'd be a good idea to get a humidifier.  I told her we already have one but don't know how to use it.  I haven't heard back so I'm thinking she doesn't know how to either, haha!  Luckily we discovered this before one of the deer mounts on the floor was ruined from absorbed moisture.  Dear Hubby took it outside and laid it on a towel in the driveway to dry out in the sun.  I'm thinking there is a lot about this new climate we live in that we don't have a clue about.

One thing I am not is homesick.  I find that very ironic, considering I was a child who'd get so homesick when I tried spending the nite at a neighbor's when I was 4 or 5 I'd cry in the nite and my friend Annie's dad would kindly walk me over to my house and deliver me to my parents', where I'd happily go upstairs to the familiarity of my own bed.  Maybe it's because I do have all of my 'nuclear' family here with me.  Maybe it's because my siblings and I have never lived in each others' pockets.  Maybe it's because I don't have much extended family to worry about or miss anymore.  But life here has picked up to its normal pace and that makes things feel more 'homelike' here.  I'm again taking care of my grandsons on a full time basis so my days are busy and full.  I don't feel lost any more as I travel about.  Even the Michigander accent doesn't sound so unusual to my ear now.  In fact, we got a wrong-number-call last week from someone out in Portland and the man I spoke to sounded kind of 'funny' to me.  I'm used to us sounding western, and our friends and family sounding western...but anybody else around us?  No......  So that was kind of surreal.

The grandboys are finally to the stage where I don't have to be constantly involved in what they're doing now.  They can watch TV around me.  They can play around me.  But they don't require me to take part in everything.  So one thing I'm getting back to that I've missed terribly these past few years is reading.  I'd forgotten what a luxury it is to sit down with a book and be able to read more than a paragraph without "Grandma!" ringing out.  It still takes me the bulk of the week to read an entire book, but considering I've hardly read anything --  well, what I would consider anything  --  the past few years, this is so pleasant to come back to!  In the few months we've lived here that I hadn't been doing day care, I couldn't get enough books to read.   It's like they were telling me, "Welcome BACK!"

We're off to our son's now. 

Home. At Last.

Can it possibly be?! Are we finally moved in? Do I have a house to call home now? The answer is yes, yes, yes!

What a journey.

We arrived in Livonia on March 5th. We spent two weeks 'living' in the Comfort Inn on Middlebelt Road a tantalizing 5 blocks away from 'our' house. But thanks to the very incompetent ministrations of Chase Bank's home loan department in Portland, we arrived thinking we were ready to move right in, only to find the loan couldn't be processed in Michigan if it originated in Oregon. They hadn't even bothered to open up the FHA Appraisal that stated a few repairs were needed before the loan could close. They hadn't even bothered to inform us of all this. Every phone call, every email I sent, I was given the same answer: "Everything's moving right along. It's with the underwriters and should be closing at the end of February". So Dear Hubby and our d-i-l set out to drive across country at the end of February. And when they were in Iowa Dear Hubby received a phone call from our realtor: "We've got problems!" He hadn't heard anything from Chase in a long time and took it upon himself to call our loan officer, only then to find out we didn't have a loan, let alone being even close to closing. We were nowhere! So Dear Hubby called me with this news, totally freaked out. Not only ours wasn't any good...neither was the kids' loan for their house. Now what to do?! Here Dear Hubby and our stressed-out d-i-l are in Livonia by this time and the rest of us are living...surviving...in a Days Inn in Portland waiting to fly out to Detroit that Saturday while our belongings and vehicles were on their way across the country. Arggghhhh.

To make a long, stressful-beyond-belief, and wild story short, our wonderful guardian angel of a Real Estate Guy named Bill and a mortgage broker friend of his named Sam went above and beyond the call of duty to secure home loans for both of us from square one, doing everything they could to push the closing dates up as quickly as possible. And two weeks later we finally took possession of our homes. But our possessions themselves were still in storage, somewhere in Indiana, so we had to wait a couple of extra days to have them delivered. But they arrived and some great moving guys got us all settled. The kids didn't even have to stay with us for a couple of weeks, like we'd originally thought. Sam the Miracle Worker got everything closed on the same day. I could've kissed the guy.

And now I'm all hooked up to the fastest internet I've ever had. I am back typing on a keyboard at 70-75 wpm instead of plunk-plunk-back space-back space-plunk-plunking on my new Droid phone. I am more than happy to put that thing back to just being a phone, tho I must admit it was nice to have something give me limited internet access. I was just abominably slow typing with my left thumb. And 9 times out of 10 whatever I wrote wouldn't post or send anyway. Sigh. I wish I knew how many emails are lost somewhere in the outer darkness of cyberspace.

I feel like I'm starting from the very beginning again. Like it's going to take time to find my 'blog' voice once more. It feels like forever since I've written anything of any substance. I feel rusty and very out of practice. Like my voice is creaky from lack of use. But it feels so good to be here once more, chronicling our lives for the grandboys. I wish I'd been able to keep it up-to-date while we made our way 2/3 of the way across the country. But so much of it was so hard. So much of it was scrabbling around to find the needed paperwork when everything was stashed away somewhere in the back of a semi truck trailer somewhere in Indiana. It was days of trying to keep two little boys who were beyond sick of being stuck in hotel suites for three weeks entertained and quiet. It was more dinners out in restaurants than I care to eat ever again.

Ah, but we survived. We did. And in looking back at it now a couple of weeks later it doesn't seem so bad after all. I'm sure a year from now we'll laugh about it, rolling our eyes and calling it our Grand Adventure of a Lifetime.

But do I want to move again any time soon?

No, thank you.

At Last....Livonia!

I'm going to attempt to write a blog entry here. Since arriving in Livonia a week ago I've had very little computer access...a public computer with time limits in the lobby of the hotel we're staying in and the one I'm using now, my daughter's very finicky lap top. It seems like every time I use this one whatever I write disappears or it'll suddenly take me to a new page. It's so frustrating I've been using it for email and Facebook access only and even then it's just to say a few words here or there.

We experienced a glitch in our home loan processing of nightmarish proportions...Chase Bank in Portland lied to us thru their teeth, assuring us everything was going smoothly and the loan should close by the end of February. They said this many times, both over the phone and thru emails. So we proceeded on our move here, only to arrive and find our houses couldn't close. Upon further investigation we found out the loan from Oregon wouldn't be legal here in Michigan...and the bank KNEW that and didn't bother to tell us. Kept telling us everything was going fine. To make a very long, tedious, frustrating, infuriating story short....we had to start over from square one, reapply for new loans here, and now are waiting for our houses to close. Thank the good Lord for wonderful angels like Bill the Real Estate Guy and Sam the New Mortgage Broker who are moving heaven and earth to get us into our new houses! In one week they've accomplished more than Chase did in two months!

Not to say our arrival in Livonia has been all bad. No, no, no. We're staying in a very nice hotel suite until we're able to move in. Dear Hubby and I took a nice drive to Lansing on Saturday, just to look around and see what the countryside is like. The people in this region are so friendly and helpful, and the staff here at the hotel are beginning to feel like family! I have suffered terribly from sinus and bronchial issues my entire life, living in the damp Northwest climate, and since moving back here I feel marvelous...the cold dry air of the tail end of winter and I get along just fine! Everyone has started their new jobs here, a huge undertaking but so far going very well. My daughter-in-law will begin working there too once the boys get settled. Their house should close around the same time ours does but the owners are still in it and have up to two weeks to move. So, the kids will live with us until their house is vacant.

We're not feeling really 'settled' yet. I don't think that will come until we're actually in our own home surrounded by our own things. Right now, everything is still in the back of a semi trailer stored somewhere here in Livonia. But if this first week of transition time is any indication of what's ahead of us, I'm thinking I'm going to like living here just fine.

If you surrender to the wind, you can ride it. ~ Toni Morrison

Well, it's official now. The refrigerator magnets are all packed away. We really must be moving! All the art work and photos are boxed up. All but two of my house plants are gone, given to friends who I know will give them good homes. The glass, porcelain, and china objects from my curio and china cabinets are all lovingly wrapped up and carefully tucked away, with hopes they'll survive the 2300 mile trek 2/3 of the way across America to their new home. Which hasn't even been looked at in person, let alone bought and ready for occupancy. But that should soon change. My daughter-in-law and I are flying out of Portland around 6 am in the morning to go house hunting for a few days together. Wish us luck, not only in finding homes but also luck with the weather so we don't face all kinds of delays or, perish the thought, cancellations!

I thought when we began this amazing odyssey to Michigan that I'd find the time to blog about it and update at least halfway regularly. Well, obviously that hasn't been happening. Too much to do and too little time to do it in. It's looking more likely we'll be moving in the first part of February. We're trying to prepare our house to put it on the market as well as sort and purge and pack. As well as taking care of my grandsons 55 hours per week. As well as trying to find time to see beloved friends and family one last time before our day of departure. I feel like my sinuses are made of sponge, I've done so much crying in the past few weeks. I've always considered myself pretty strong when it comes to emotions but when you're confronted with realizing that a lot of these goodbyes are probably final ones with a lot of people...well, it's a lot to take in. With the threat of gas prices reaching $5 per gallon in the not-too-distant future, it will be a real sacrifice for any one to come or go. When we're finally in Michigan, we're finally in Michigan. Very sobering.

But still....even so....we truly feel we're doing the right thing for so many reasons, many of which I don't feel like indulging in public. Suffice it to say we're very comfortable with our decision and can see the Lord working it out, every step of the way.

I had lunch with a very dear friend on Sunday, my lunch lady buddy Miss Ivona. We met in 1996 when we both first became lunch ladies for the Portland schools. We became instant friends. As we were talking I said to her, "Now, isn't this ironic? Isn't it the human condition? We may really like or love somebody for years but it isn't until we're faced with losing them, possibly forever, where we finally come forth and tell them how much they mean to us? How much we'll miss them?" She knew exactly what I was saying. And we never did say goodbye to each other. She said if we don't see each other here again on earth we'll see each other in eternity where we'll be lunch ladies together again feeding all the baby angels. Oh, I do LOVE that woman!

And so a new chapter starts tomorrow, finding homes. I am excited and full of anticipation as we prepare to step out into our futures. As much as I've loved this old house we've lived in for the past 28 years, like my daughter said the other day, with everything coming down off the walls, the boxes stacked all over everywhere, "It doesn't really feel like home any more, Mom."

No, it doesn't.

But when those things go back up on the walls, back on the refrigerator, when my bird feeder is hung outside a window and new birds I've never seen before perch to eat, when my grandsons come rushing in to stay with me in our new house...well, it will begin to feel like home.

I truly believe that.

Home is where the heart is.

Peace - that was the other name for home. ~ Kathleen Norris

Is this our future home? Is this where Dear Hubby will hang up his hat at the end of the day, whose windows I'll look out? A street I'll begin to think of as 'familiar'? Grass he'll cut? Rooms I'll decorate? We sure like it, is all I can say. But only the good Lord knows the answers to all those questions.





I put in an inquiry on this house. This morning I got a responsive email from a gentleman who's been selling real estate in the Livonia area for 30 years. He asked what our requirements are. This is what I wrote back to him:





Since my husband and I have raised our family and aren't interested in keeping up with the Joneses, we're pretty modest in our needs at this stage in life. We would like to have a 3 bedroom home, using one as a den/office and one for a guest room as we'll probably have visitors from out of state. A living room. Not necessarily a formal dining room, but a nice eating area. A bright kitchen.....I love windows with lots of light in the kitchen and the living room areas! 2 bathrooms would be nice. A garage and finished basement would be nice. A fireplace or wood stove would be nice! A fenced back yard isn't a total requirement but it would be lovely to have as well, since I'll continue doing the day care for my grandsons in Michigan, too. We don't need a huge lot....here in Portland we live in an older urban neighborhood where we can basically reach out and touch our neighbors' houses....the lots are narrow but fairly deep so we have a nice little yard out back. The dimensions on our lot are 45'x90'. We would like a LITTLE more room between houses, tho we have wonderful neighbors and have lived here peacefully with them for almost 30 years! As to a price range....we have lived in our home for 28 years. It's an old 1912 Craftsman bungalow. Our current payment with tax and insurance figured in to it is around $$$$$$ per month. Because this is a very comfortable mortgage for us, we'd like to keep it around the same amount back there. We don't care if it's new construction or old, tho we do like older homes. We're not "fancy-schmancy". All we ask is that it's in decent shape, not a fixer-upper, and the basics are updated...furnace, roof, stuff of that nature. I love to garden so landscaping isn't important...I'll be changing that to what I like. If we can find a place with the basic appliances and washer/dryer included, that'd be great....then we won't have to drag ours across the country. We like trees. A neighborhood that's quiet. How's that to get you started out?



I guess what I'm trying to tell him is we want a home.

What a strange day. Is it full moon time? ~ My Facebook entry today

My grandson Dylan loves to put together jigsaw puzzles and not long ago I found this great site that has hundreds of them that are age-appropriate for him. He's become a real pro with click-and-drag and navigates back and forth and all over the place, picking and choosing puzzles. This morning he was doing bird puzzles and when he finished one of them he asked me to come over to the desk and look at it. I did. It was a little blue parakeet. I told him what it was and then I launched in to a story about how my family had owned one that looked very similar to the one on the puzzle back around the time I was the same age he is, which is 4. I told him its name was Tweetie Pie and how it could talk, how it would sometimes land on my father's chest in the morning and call out, "Wake up, Victor! Wake up, Victor!" Dylan asked me where it is now. Well, this little bird lived 52 years ago. I told him one day someone had left the door or window open and Tweetie Pie flew out and we never saw him again.

End of story.

I went and sat in the rocking chair with Cooper and he and I were peacefully watching "Cat in the Hat" when Dylan began to sob. Flat-out sob, like his heart was broken. Concerned, I hurried over to him and took him in my arms. "Dylan! What's the matter, sweetheart?" I asked. Thru his sobs he told me, "Gram, that story you told me about the little bird was the saddest story! What happened to that little bird?" This was five minutes or so after I'd told him the story! So I said to him, "Oh, honey...that little bird's in Birdie Heaven. He's ok. You don't need to worry about him!" Finally he began to calm down and, chastised, I went back to sit with Cooper. I never dreamt my story would affect him like that. He is so tender-hearted.

We're coming to the tail end of our beautiful Indian Summer weather we've been enjoying most of the month of October. Today was gorgeous so the boys and I set out to walk to Fred Meyer. We left at 9 am and didn't get home until noon. We stopped and admired every Halloween decoration along the two-mile walk to the store. Counted and flipped over every ancient horse-tether ring cemented in our old sidewalks...25 before they got distracted by some of those big puff-up balloon-style lawn decorations, a black cat, a witch, and several ghosts. As we were admiring those, along came two different people with dogs that needed to be petted and admired. We did our shopping and as we stopped just outside the doors so I could give the boys a cold drink before we set off for home in the double stroller I was approached by two young men. "Excuse me, ma'm," one of them said to me. I smiled at them and said, "Yes?" The one who'd spoken then asked, "Have you ever heard about a treasure hunt?" I thought on that for a moment. "You mean like geo-caching or something like that?" He smiled and said, "No. I'm talking about a treasure hunt where we're supposed to go searching for treasures. One item on our list says we're supposed to speak to someone pushing a stroller. May we talk to you for a moment?" I told them sure they could and the young man told me, "We're Christians and we're supposed to ask whoever will talk to us if they would like us to pray with them." I told them, "Well, I've been a Christian almost 34 years and I would love to have you pray with me." I think I almost knocked their socks off, ha! He asked me, "Do you have a particular burden or need you'd like to pray about?" and I told them something on my heart. Then we bowed our heads right there and that young man said the most beautiful prayer. And it literally felt like Heaven opened up and came down and blessed us right there. It was lovely. For me, and for them. When I told Dear Hubby about it this evening he said, "Maybe they were angels. Maybe that prayer protected you and the boys the rest of the day." Maybe so. I like to think so, anyway.

And then the boys and I set off for the long walk home. As I'm trudging along all of a sudden Dylan starts calling "Keepy!" at the top of his voice and Cooper chimes right in. "Keepy! Keepy!" I asked Dylan, "Who or what is Keepy?!" and he reached over and patted Cooper on the head and said, "Keepy is Cooper's daughter." "His daughter?" I asked, mystified. And Dylan told me very seriously, "Yes." "What happened to her?" I asked. He said, "She went to the beach with my daughter and granddaughters and got lost and we've been trying to find her. Gram, will you help us yell for her?" I thought that one over for a moment, shrugged, and started calling "Keepy! Keepy!" right along with them.

We never did find her.

We're captive on the carousel of time; we can't return we can only look behind. ~ Joni Mitchell

Last week I was on vacation and one of the things I did, besides the mundane chores of painting the front porch steps and sorting/donating a bunch of stuff cluttering the basement, I spent a day with my younger brother. He took me out to lunch at a Mexican restaurant in downtown Vancouver and on the way back to his home we decided to take a drive thru our old neighborhood. To our surprise, 'our' house was up for sale, with an information box with flyers inside tacked on to the "For Sale" post. If anyone was home they'd had no idea who we were so I jumped out of my brother's Aston Martin -- a waaaaaaaaaaaaay cool car, by the way -- to grab a flyer. Since the time period we both lived there, in the late 1960s-1970s, a whole lot of remodeling has gone on and even tho the basic floor plan is the same it doesn't look anything like it did when we were teens. It's gorgeous. The windows to the right of the front door belong to what used to be my bedroom. It's since been converted to a home office with beautiful French doors. The upstairs, which used to be an unfinished attic, is now a huge master bedroom suite with a sitting area in the front gable. The kitchen is to die for. Sigh......if only my parents had been blessed with the money to update it! When they bought it in 1968 they paid something like $11,900 for it. Today it is selling for $239,900. Whoa. One thing it has going for it is it's located in a neighborhood near downtown that is being revitalized, with lots of old bungalow and tudor and Craftsmen homes that have been purchased and revamped. As beautiful as it is I wouldn't want to live there again. Too many bad memories. I suppose you can go home again, but it isn't always a wise choice to do so.

You haven't experienced real life until you've volunteered in a preschool with 15 rambunctious, energetic, inquisitive, precocious, adorable 4-year-olds. What a hoot! Cooper and I spent the morning yesterday with Dylan and his classmates and I can't remember the last time 3 hours have passed so quickly. We played out on the playground, danced/wiggled/jiggled to music, played "What's Your Name" as we tossed a beanbag around the circle, had snack time, craft time, play time, story time. I took blocks and built a huge roadway for the little boys to drive their cars and trucks on. I played doll house with Ava. Ezra and Sumalee followed me around like shadows. I helped several go potty. I didn't have time to feel like the 'odd man out' being the only Grandma there amongst 3 younger mothers...I was too busy! Tho I did have a nice conversation during story time with one of the mothers as she and I swept up the sand around the sand table. I told her what a wonderful experience it is for both Dylan and Cooper to have this exposure to other kids because with being a stay-at-home Grandma I don't really have a network of friends with little ones to spend time with. She told me that she doesn't, either, and with her little boy James heading off for kindergarten next year she was becoming very concerned about him being too isolated. So many mothers work now. Besides James she also has a little one who is Cooper's age...so maybe on one of their 'off' days from school I'll invite her over so the four of them can play together.



Each little phase of the grandboys' childhood is so bittersweet. I didn't have the time or take the time when I was a young parent to realize that, for most of us, one time around the parenthood circuit is the only one we get. We're too tired, too stressed, too young ourselves to know how much we should savor each moment as we're living it. But, oh, how time and age gives us such a different perspective! This time I know it's the last time for me. I don't necessarily want to stop time and keep them little forever, but there are days I wish it would slow down a little bit! But, no...Time waits for no one.

Genius is more often found in a cracked pot than in a whole one. ~ E.B. White

This morning was cool for the first time in several days so the grandboys and I decided it'd be a good day for a bus ride and walk. I'd given them some of those cheap disposable cameras to take pictures a while back and I've been meaning to get them in to Walgreen's to get the film developed. I am notoriously bad about doing stuff like that, so those cameras have been battered and banged about and chucked in to the bottom of the toy bins more than once. In fact, we had to empty out one of the bins this morning to find one of the cameras. Once we got them collected we took off to walk the two blocks to the bus stop where we'd catch the first bus on our trip.



Coopy loves to hold the bus tickets as we walk along and as we wait for a bus to come. He's quite reliable. He considers himself quite the big boy being given this responsibility and takes it quite seriously. He has never lost or dropped one yet. So when the bus pulled up I lifted him on to the step as Dylan stepped on too and started to get on myself when Cooper looked at me with a stricken look on his face and said, "Ahma! Ticket!" and pointed back out behind me. I turned around and sure enough...the ticket sat in the middle of the sidewalk. So I asked the driver to hold on a sec while I went to retrieve it. I stepped down. And the next thing I know, I'm on the ground. Right on my rear end! In the middle of the sidewalk. But I swooped up the ticket, hopped on the bus, and deposited it in the kiosk. The driver, a woman around my age, was so concerned. "Are you sure you're ok?" I laughed and said yes, I was just fine. The only thing bruised was my dignity. She reassured me, "Honey, no one saw you except me anyway." And I looked back in the bus and all there were for passengers was an older man nodding off in his seat and a teenager with ear plugs hunched over texting away. I sat down with the boys and she and I began to chuckle. "Oh, the things you get to see during the working day, huh? At least when I sat on my seat I was well-padded!" I said. That got us both to giggling and she said, "Honey, you just went down so smooth!"

When I go in for crash-landings that's how I like to do it....smooooooooooooth!

I blame it on my progressive lenses. That's the third time I've misstepped. My depth perception is very tricky with them.

Anyway...we did our walking and our bus transferring and made it to Walgreen's and back and bought a pizza for lunch. The boys took a good nap. I read several pages of a book my bloggy friend Pam had written about on her blog. Dylan woke up first and we went out back to check on the garden. My neighbor Sharon called over the fence and asked us to come over...she wanted to show something to me. She and her husband just had new grass planted in their back yard and they're leaving on Friday to go to Yakima to visit her sick aunt so she showed me the grass and asked if I'd be kind enough to water it on Saturday for them. Not a problem.

Dylan and I went back home and as I was getting some juice for the boys he came in to the kitchen and asked, "Gram, why is Sharon going to Yakima?" And I told him about her aunt who's very sick. He wandered off and then came back to me a few minutes later. "Gram," he said, "Can we pray to Jesus right now and ask Him to make Sharon's aunt all better?"

Oh, that touched my heart! And when I told Sharon about it later, needless to say it touched hers, too.

So of course I said yes, and he hugged me as we prayed together.

A little child shall lead them.

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.

Just so I don't forget...

Things Little Boys Love to Do:

1. Feed ducks in a pond

2. Splash in mud puddles

3. Throw rocks in mud puddles

4. Squirt water out of the spigot when they wash their hands

5. Collect all the worms they find when digging in the dirt

6. Spit on the window and then watch it slither down the glass

7. Cram as much sandwich in their mouths as they can

8. Show off that half-chewed mess in their mouths

9. Squat down and watch ants coming in and out of holes on the sidewalk

10. Poke pieces of stick or grass down those holes

11. Pick dandelions for Grandma

12. Endlessly put things in something, then take them out again

13. Love to get down and get dirty

14. Set up the coffeemaker for Papa

15. Help Grandma cook

16. Fold laundry

17. Dust

18. Hide under blankets

19. Race dump trucks from one end of the house to the other

20. Garbage trucks and garbage men

21. Fire trucks and firemen

22. Give tight squeezes

23. Cuddle in the rocking chair while watching "Super Why"

24. And "Word World"

25. And "Sponge Bobby"

26. And "Curious George"

27. And "Between the Lions"

28. Go barefoot...must've gotten that from their Grandma

29. Shriek outside for the fun of it

30. Balance and walk along walls

These things, darling boys, are what fill your days with joy

in 2010.

Ages 2 and 4

Genius is more often found in a cracked pot than in a whole one. ~ E.B. White

Yesterday morning I stepped out on the front porch with Dylan right behind me. I had the bath mat in hand and was beginning to give it a good shake when BOOM! The front door slammed shut behind us. It was locked.

Cooper was inside alone.

I had no key to get in.

Oh no.

Oh no oh no oh no.

I made a mad dash to my neighbor Sharon's, praying she was home. They have an extra key of ours for such emergencies. She was home. But the key couldn't be found.

Now what?!

I'd had an extra key made for us, just for this purpose, but life has been so...distracting...lately, I'd hung it up inside the house and forgotten about it. The two closest family members who could come to my rescue were each at least half an hour away.

All the windows were locked. At least the alarm system was disarmed. So I did what a good Grandma had to do. I broke in to my own house. But...the window I was able to break had a good 5-6 foot drop to the floor. So I did what a good Grandma would do. I dropped. And I hit hard. But I got inside and rescued my little two-year-old grandson. Who was waiting at the gate at the top of the stairs. Who said, "Hi, Ahma!" and smiled at me as I arrived at the top of them and heaved myself over the gate. Nothing had fazed him. All the excitement had been happening outside!

But me...I was a wreck. I had a good cry. I had a very good cry, the woman who rarely, if ever, cries.

And the key? It's hidden. Outside.

Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end; then stop. ~ Lewis Carrol

Dear Moi...

Are you really here? Are you really writing? More than just a few-lined filler to post in otherwise empty space? Is it Friday evening? Or are you dreaming this like you dreamt during your short-lived nap this afternoon, that it was already Saturday and you were out walking in the sunshine? Sunshine? What's sunshine?

Ever hopeful,

Point-me-in-the-right-direction-and-I-might-reach-my-destination-but-then-again-I-might-not

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Dear Moi...

It's an age-old question: Why do you buy 'real' toys? Or maybe I should say, why do you buy expensive toys? Children don't know the value of money. Be thankful most of what you have overflowing from your toy bins are things you've picked up in thrift stores for next-to-nothing. Why? Because, as of today, the grandboys' favorite toys are a couple of bags of colored dinosaurs you picked up at Fred Meyer for $2.99 each that they put in to their little plastic garbage cans and fill and empty into their toy garbage trucks all day long; two extender tubes from the vacuum cleaner they use as telescopes and imaginary ice cream cone makers...the choices are endless -- "Would you eat a gravy ice cream cone?" "Ewwwwwwwwww!" "How about pumpernickel ice cream?" "Ewwwwwwwwww!" See what I mean?

Sincerely,

On-my-budget-they'll-never-go-to-Disneyland-but-that's-ok-they're-still-having-the-time-of-their-lives

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Dear Moi...

Would you even know what to do to keep a little granddaughter occupied if you had one? When my neighbor Sharon brought her 2 1/2 year old granddaughter Lily over to visit today, they caught us right in the middle of playing "Alvin". "Alvin" is the name the boys have given to our yard debris collector. Our real human yard debris collector. The game of "Alvin" consists of the boys taking two of their toy-sized garbage cans and placing every toy they have here, no matter what size it is, and putting it 'in' the can and handing it to me. It originally started out where it was small toys only that I would dump into the green recycling truck and say, "And here's some more, Alvin". Well, of course they thought that was hilarious and now it's an elaborate game that includes every. toy. in. the. bins. The nice thing is, they do help me pick it up. But! The mountain of toys is...well...a bit overwhelming. It takes up the entire middle of the living room and is about 3 feet high. So when Lily and Sharon came in, we'd just finished putting the last toy on the pile. Lily stood there in wide-eyed wonder sucking on her fingers. I don't know whether she wanted to stay or run. Sharon said, "Boy, Kris...that's a LOT of toys". I know. But every time I try to purge it seems I think "Well, they could use this for this" or "use that for that". The only toys really gone now are the baby toys.

In all honesty,

I'm-ducking-my-head-in-embarrassment-because-I-know-I'm-hopelessly-over-indulgent-but-that-is-a-grandma's-right-so-there

-------------------------------

Dear Moi...

I am still gobsmacked (I love that word and use it whenever I can) by what happened to us at Little Caesar's pizza the other day. We ordered a cheese pizza and when the employee took my debit card from Dylan -- Dylan likes to pay and 'buy' my pizza -- to slide it thru the machine...nothing happened. He slid it again. And again. Ditto. Zilch. A much younger woman and her little girl had come in the door behind us and was watching it all transpire. There was no internet connection on either of the debit/credit machines. Uh oh. I'd have to pay cash if I wanted to buy a pizza. I looked in my wallet. I'm notorious for never carrying cash and, true to form...actually, better than usual!...I had $2! But $2 wasn't going to pay for it. So as Dylan stood there saying, "Grandma, I really wanted a cheese pizza!" the young mother had gone up to the other employee to pay for her order. With cash. And the next thing I know, the other employee is handing me a pizza, too, and telling me, "Here's a cheese pizza for you!" "No, no!" I told him. "I can't pay for it! I don't have cash!" And he nodded at the young mother and said, "I know, but she does and she just bought you this pizza." I stood there and gaped for a full 10 seconds or so, then told her, "You didn't have to do that! My goodness! How kind of you!" And she smiled and said, "They had to get their pizza. They're kids and I couldn't let them be disappointed." By that time, the employees were smiling, too, and I'm flabberghasted and thanking her all over the place! And as she went out the door I said, "I'm going to write about you in my blog tonite!" But never found time to sit down and do it justice until now.

With a very grateful heart,

A-grandma-who-could've-had-a-disaster-on-her-hands-if-it-hadn't-been-for-the-kindness-of-a-stranger-and-I-know-the-good-Lord-must've-blessed-you-the-rest-of-the-day-for-it-lovely-lady

----------------------------

Dear Moi...

Isn't it wonderful to find handymen who still take pride in their work and do an excellent job? Who are honest and show up when they tell you they're going to show up? Who finish the job? Aren't you glad you found Andres? Aren't you glad you paid him $40 more than what he originally charged you, just to say an extra thank you for a job well done? And you'll recommend him to anyone in the Portland area who needs an odd job done like putting up a bit of fence and gate, won't you? And didn't it warm your heart that he put the latch up high enough and with a hole in it where you can padlock it shut to keep the grandboys safe inside?

With great appreciation,

A satisfied customer

------------------------

Dear Moi....

Do you realize every letter you've written to yourself tonite has referred to the grandboys in one way or another? Do you care?

Love,

These-are-my-babies-and-this-is-my-blog-and-if-you-don't-like-it-oh-well-put-a-cork-in-it-like-I-tell-Cooper

Childhood is the most beautiful of all Life's seasons. ~ Author Unknown

We have two new residents, actually, in our home. Not one goldfish but two. Our neighbor Azizollah who was born in Iran has been celebrating his New Year and goldfish in his culture signify Life. He and his wife had bought a couple and now that the New Year is over they offered to give them to the grandboys, as they do a lot of traveling and figured the fish needed a home where someone would care for them.

Care for them?! Oh, yeah.

It's a wonder these two little fishies have survived since they showed up on the scene yesterday afternoon, they have been shown so much love and attention. If one grandboy's face hasn't been peering down into the bowl with his nose practically touching the water, the other one has. I had the bowl on the table yesterday and Dylan and Cooper spent the rest of their day here getting 'acquainted'. They named them Spot and HoHo and showed their new buddies their favorite toys. Dylan sang "The Alphabet Song" to them. He'd go over periodically and ask, "Hey, HoHo Spot...how you doing?" When we went for a late afternoon walk over to the fire station Dylan hollered to Papa who was downstairs in his den, "Papa! Will you keep an eye on HoHo Spot and make sure they're doing ok?" Of course Papa said yes. And the interest hasn't waned at all today. Today they got to feed them.

Oh...and which one is Spot and which one is HoHo? The one with spots is HoHo. The pure gold one is Spot.

It makes sense to a 4-year-old.

Button? Button? Who has the button?

When I was a little girl my mom had a quart jar shaped like a little bear with a hat on its head. It's where she stored her buttons. On rainy days...boring days...I'd sometimes take down the jar and play with them. Not that there was much I could do with them imagination-wise, but I liked sorting thru them and making piles of similar colored ones. Most were ordinary but some, like the little lemon-shaped ones of yellow or brass ones, were a bit more unique. I don't know what happened to that jar. I wonder if it's still at my father's home where my stepmother lives, stashed away in 'his' room of belongings he'd brought along from our family's former life when he married her. I think the odds of ever claiming any of that old stuff is history now.

Another childhood memory of buttons was playing "Button? Button? Who has the Button?" during inside recesses on especially rainy days. That, and "Heads Up Seven Up", I believe the other game was called. I'm dredging the names up almost 45 years after they happened, so bear with me. I grew up in a small town along the southern border of the Olympic Rain Forest in Washington State so we had a lot of indoor recess days.

Which brings me to the obsession I seem to be observing on a lot of blogs now with blog buttons? Does everyone have a blog button? What is the need of a blog button? I'm a complaining old fuddy-duddy, I know, but I find a long list of them in a sidebar very distracting. But, like all other blog 'fads' that come and go, it seems to be the 'in' thing right now. Not for me. I'm not a follower. My blog will remain button-free. Sometimes I think it will remain 'entry' free...I seem to be going thru a bit of a no-time-to-sit-down-and-think phase in life right now. But I plug away when I find a chance. Too many things on my plate right now to focus here. But that's ok. Or so I tell myself.

Livin' life in Looney Land...

Someday my grandson Dylan will shoot me for posting this photo. But he decked himself out with his Pull-Ups the other day...it was his super hero getup for the day. His auntie snapped this before she left for work. He didn't want to stand still so it's blurry...but this is how our days go...

My grandson Dylan's days are filled with "my buds". These are all the people who've become familiar to him over the past 3 1/2 years we've been out walking. There's Bob-the-little-gray-guy...he collects our regular garbage every week in the gray can. And Roger the mail man. John, a warehouseman at a plumbing supply company a few blocks away whom we've befriended as we pass by. All the men who work at a radiator supply store we walk by almost daily. The UPS delivery man. The checkers at the Save A Lot store. The librarians. The people who work at Walgreen's and Little Caesar's Pizza, the neighborhood bakery, and the Subway down the street. The postal workers at the front counter at the post office.

I love how getting out has created a sense of community for my grandchildren, even tho we live in a large city. I love how they wave at and greet everyone we come across. In this world full of Stranger Danger, I don't want them to be fearful of everyone they come in contact with because not everyone out there is waiting to do them harm. Race and religion don't even enter in to it for them...everyone gets a wave and a cheerful "Hi!!!" And rarely does anyone ever ignore them. Even teenagers.

I teach them caution. I tell them never to wander off, to stay with Grandma. But they feel secure in knowing when they're with me all's pretty much well with their world. And hopefully it will stay that way. Because, in all actuality, this world is still a decent place to be in. Most of the time.