Everyday adventures

Toto, We're Not in Kansas, but...

June 15, 2010

I returned yesterday from a quick trip to meet my mom and aunt in Missouri.  This sign greeted me in the Kansas City airport:

!!!

My aunt has spent years researching her family's genealogy, and planned this trip with my mom so they could visit a number of small Missouri towns where key ancestors had been born/married/lived/died.  They invited me to join them and I jumped at the chance--road trip! Armed with Aunt Jary's two carefully compiled three-ring binders, we toured central Missouri, driving through tiny towns and tramping through cemeteries.


Surprisingly, I found the exploration of these old cemeteries rather fascinating. Except for the occasional bird, we were alone in an atmosphere of deep peace. We had nothing but rolling farmland around us, and sometimes a breeze lifted the tree leaves and stirred the little American flags someone had placed on some of the graves for Memorial Day.  I found myself wondering what these people had been like in life--how had they lived? What were the relationships between those buried on the family plots? Some gravestones marked the short lives of infants and young children. One of my own long-gone relatives had died in her 20s of consumption. 

The grave that held the most interest for me was this one:

 
A "great-great" who fought for the Union in the Civil War, P.M. was imprisoned in Andersonville, the notorious Confederate prison camp in Georgia, and lived to tell the tale.  I've been to Andersonville twice, but unfortunately I didn't yet know about my own personal inmate either time.

We visited several other places of interest while on the tombstone tour--and I'll share more with you later in the week.  Until then, watch out for flying monkeys!

Happiness

Sweet Summers

June 07, 2010

With days growing longer—and hotter—and the kids about to be out of school, I find myself remembering sweet summers of my childhood, when I ran wild and free at my grandma’s house in Cottonwood, California.

My mom and I spent many vacations at Grandma’s together, but from the time I was about 8, during summer vacation I spent at least two weeks, sometimes a month or more, at her house on my own, without my mom. (Strangely, even when Grandpa was living, I always thought of the Cottonwood place as “Grandma’s house.”)

To get to Grandma’s house, we drove for at least eight hours, winding through flat farmland from our home in Southern California, to Cottonwood, population 3000-plus. I opened my car window to smell the alfalfa fields and watched the road signs eagerly, counting down the miles until our exit. Once I saw the Bowman Road sign, I could barely contain my anticipation. It would only be a matter of minutes until we reached Grandma’s house.

The tires crunched on the gravel driveway where we parked to unload. I would jump out of the car eagerly, running through a gate in the white picket fence. The little white house, trimmed in barn red, nestled there, like a hen sitting on her nest.

At home, I had only a tiny yard to play in. At Grandma’s house, I had 22 acres in which to roam freely. For a city girl, the cows, chickens, dog and cats held deep fascination. Accompanied by my grandparents’ dog, Taffy, I explored nearly every inch of the property, from the straw-yellow hills behind the house to the sweet-smelling cow barn, to the irrigated cow pasture where I tried to make friends with my grandparents’ beef cattle. Though I could never convince Grandma to get me a horse, I pretended to ride one—or pretended to be one—while exploring.


When I tired of galloping through the pasture, I swam in the irrigation ditch that ran behind Grandma’s house like my own personal river, caught frogs for frog swimming races, or stretched out on a beach towel on the wooden bridge that crossed the ditch, baking myself in the summer sun. Or I would read in a lawn chair under the huge oak in the front yard, listening to the soothing sound of chickens softly clucking while they searched a flower bed for tasty bugs. Occasionally, the rooster’s crow broke the quiet of the afternoon.


Grandma was a great cook and I ate slabs of her homemade bread covered in fresh butter or homemade jam all day long. I reveled in peaches and watermelon purchased from local produce stands, or plums picked right off the tree. For a special treat, sometimes Grandma would make boysenberry cobbler, the purple berries oozing juices through the crumbly top crust.

Grandma’s mother, Great Gram, lived across the street in a tiny, pink house and many evenings I’d go play Rummy with her. (One of my first lessons in sportsmanship came at the card table: You can’t play cards with the grown ups if you cry when you lose.) I loved to play cards with her, but I admit to an ulterior motive as well. She made the best milkshakes I’ve ever had. She’d pour canned Hershey’s syrup over several scoops of chocolate chip ice cream and icy milk, then mush up the whole concoction with an old-fashioned egg beater. It was so thick, I had to eat it with a spoon.

My mom and step dad live in the house with the red trim now. Sadly, we don’t get to visit very often, since we live 2500 miles away. But when we do make the trip to Cottonwood, I’m reminded that I was once a girl with no cares, running wild through a cow pasture and slurping up milkshakes without a thought of their calorie count.

Awards

One Award, 10 Random Facts and Four Beautiful Blogs

June 03, 2010

At the end of The Week That is Best Forgotten, Laure at the Painted Thoughts blog sent me an award:


I’m still new enough to blogging to really appreciate these awards, and get a kick out of answering the questions that go along with them. For this one, I’m supposed to tell you 10 things about myself. You already know of my horse addiction and several of the various other pastimes I enjoy, so here are 10 random facts you probably don’t know:

I worked on an archaeological dig in Jerusalem when I was in college.

I’ve been quoted in two books.

I do a crossword puzzle every day, in an attempt to keep my brain cells snapping and popping.

I sing along with the radio in my car. Loudly.

I’m allergic to kiwi fruit.

I was born and raised in California, and still miss the wonderful climate.

My husband and I have been married for 22 years, despite having worked together in the same office twice and currently working out of a shared home office.

I’m totally addicted to a game on my computer called “Mahjong Titans.”

My great grandmother was full Cherokee Indian.

My favorite flavor of ice cream is mint chocolate chip.

More important than the random facts, I get to share some blogs I enjoy. I hope you will like them, too.

The Enchanted Earth. I keep passing these awards on to Meredith because her blog is utterly delightful. She takes beautiful photos and writes uplifting and creative posts. One of my recent favorites was “Star Stuff.” Check it out.

A Nature Art Journal. Elizabeth’s nature journal pages are wonderful, and I’m inspired by looking at them.

Hope in Every Day. Krista’s blog title says it all.

Walking Nature Home. Susan is a writer, her husband is a sculptor, and he is fighting brain cancer. Her writing is lovely and positive, even in the face of her husband’s illness.
Thank you to Laure for giving me one more reason to smile last week, and to all of you for your kind and encouraging comments.

Edited to add: One more great blog to visit: Blueberries, Art and Life. Teresa's thoughts on art and life--and she's already won this award once before!

Holidays

In Remembrance

May 31, 2010




We who are left how shall we look again
Happily on the sun or feel the rain
Without remembering how they who went
Ungrudgingly and spent
Their lives for us loved, too, the sun and rain?
~Wilfred Wilson Gibson

May you have a peaceful
Memorial Day.


Happiness

Just One of Those Weeks

May 29, 2010

This past week wasn’t one of our best. My son had a minor bike accident—one of the pedals broke off while he was riding and he smashed his face on the handlebars. He’s fine now, though at first he looked like he’d gone a few rounds in the boxing ring. I broke a tooth and when the dentist examined me, he informed me that I need not one but two crowns because the tooth behind the broken one also had a crack in it. And no, before you ask, I do not open beer bottles with my teeth. The modem for our internet connection self-destructed and we’ve been reduced to one working computer until the new modem arrives. We’re all fighting over that one computer—which happens to be mine, so shouldn’t I get precedence?—and it can get pretty ugly. You’ve already read my rant about daily chores, and you know, this blog is all about catching HAPPINESS for Pete’s sake. What is the deal?

After rereading Mr. Franklin’s quote at left, I reminded myself that I don’t have the right to have everything always go my way, or even to be happy. I just have the right to pursue happiness. So in the spirit of that pursuit, here are just a few little things that have made me smile this week, despite the things that have gone wrong:


Discovering a new shoot on the bougainvillea I thought had been killed by the freezes.








Harvesting cherry tomatoes from my own plant.





Signing up for a new art class.

Allowing my 15-year-old to drive home from the orthodontist and realizing that his driving is getting better. (Yes, I was smiling, not grimacing.)

Finding a dress for a wedding we were to attend—the first one I tried on! And it was on sale!

Attending that wedding and watching two 70+-year-olds find happiness and someone to share their lives with while both their families rejoiced.

Watching my dog lie in the grass in the sun.


More importantly, little by little I’m learning that happiness doesn’t only depend on external factors. My attitudes and actions influence my state of mind much more than external factors do. My son could have been much more severely injured. I could have required a root canal rather than a crown. Things could be much worse—and I’m grateful that they aren’t, and that we have the resources to cope with these little downs. Being grateful that things aren’t worse, searching for things that give me enjoyment, and choosing to focus on the positive rather than the negative have gotten me through this week in a relatively happy frame of mind.

How about you? How do you cope when things go wrong? I’d love to hear any suggestions you have. Not that I expect anything else to go wrong anytime soon.  Right?!