Siblings

Here's two of my big sisters!! Aren't they cute?

This was a family weekend! Mark, Holly and Eric were here on Friday night, Rachel on Saturday night and Kathy was by today. Kathy and Rachel helped hang up the quilt and pictures in the guest room, something that's needed to be done for a long time. I'm glad my parents had so many kids because we all have different gifts. The decorating gene is definitely deficient in my DNA, but luckily it came through in my sisters. I'm glad Mom is in Dallas so I can see my siblings when they come to visit her. Here's another picture from this morning. Thanks for coming, everyone!!

FALL 2008

Here's the view out the window behind me. This maple is called "Autumn Blaze", which is very accurate. It is gorgeous this time of year.

And, for a blast from the past, here's of photo from 1986 in Wisconsin, where the leaves, not to mention the kids, are especially beautiful in the fall:

Happy Fall, Y'All!

Bridge Walk

Yesterday I did the Great Columbia Crossing in Astoria, Oregon. My sis Rachel joined me and we walked over the Astoria/Megler bridge along with thousands of others. It was 27th annual 10K walk and run but a first for us. It started at Dismal Nitch on the Washington side of the river and then went over the huge bridge and down into the port of Astoria. At the end, shuttle buses took us to Astoria high school for clam chowder and fixings and then another shuttle bus took us back to the parking lot. It was a perfect day for it, slightly cloudy and slightly cool but a gorgeous view of the river.

On Saturday, we met at Oregon's newest state park, Stubb Stewart, and did some of the many hikes there and checked out the cute cabins and campground. Later we had dinner at a Bosnian restaurant in Astoria. All weekend I was impressed by the beauty of Oregon in the fall.

Bounty

Last night I made apple crisp from the apples in our yard. The six espaliered trees are full this year. I wish I could find the scrap of paper I jotted their names on but it has gone missing like so many other notes. I peeled them and sampled and tried to discern their varieties and my mind drifted back to some of my favorite childhood memories. My dad would be sitting on a stool in our “breezeway” with buckets of apples around him. We would be gathered around like hungry baby birds. He would pull out his well-worn trusty pocket knife, the one offered to cut my umbilical cord with, and peel and slice the apples and pass them around. Often he would tell us the names. I loved this part, thinking of each name and trying to tell the difference in taste alone. The names still resonate with me: Gravenstein, Cortland, Banana (imagine! An apple named Banana!), Delicious, Grimes Golden, Jonathan, Yellow Transparent, Northern Spy, and my personal favorite, King- large and beautifully multicolored, sweet and crunchy. My grandmothers would be there, and my siblings, and any visiting relatives or friends. Sometimes the apples had worms or bruises or bad spots and my dad would cut around them, salvaging as much as he could, never wanting any to go to waste. The peels and cores would pile up in another bucket, ready to be carted to the compost pile. It was usually fall with a bite in the air and leaves falling in the yard but I felt safe and full and happy and loved, the sweet crunch of apples in my mouth.

Today I am making tomato sauce and pear bread and I am thinking of my mom and the many hours she spent in the kitchen. My new Kitchen Aid mixer gets used some but to me it is the tangible reminder of my mom. She spent hours in the kitchen making bread and cookies and thousands of meals. Those same apples from my dad made gallons of applesauce, both “lumpy” and “smooth” to satisfy her picky kids. I remember seeing the huge bowls of sweet applesauce with a swirl of cinnamon on top and thinking they just appeared by magic, and knowing today how many hours of gathering, washing, cutting and cooking it took to make them appear. She canned all she could, pickles, tomatoes, pears, peaches, applesauce in old mason jars with wire closures. The pressure cooker always scared me, but I would dutifully watch it when instructed to make sure the dial stayed at the correct pressure. The cupboards were full of the colorful jars, all lined up and ready to be enjoyed. Later in life my parents discovered drying and the food dryer was always full of apples, pears, prunes, and fruit leather- ready snacks for the growing grandchildren.

Yesterday on a visit with my mom, another resident told me, “This lady sure loves to eat! I don’t think there’s anything she won’t eat!” and my mom chimed in with “Now, don’t be tattling on me!” and I explained how my mom was so happy to have other people fix her food and do the dishes after years of cooking for so many. And I do think that is true but I seldom remember my mom complaining. I whine about cooking one or two meals for three people several times a week and she cooked for eight or more three times a day- full meals, no shortcuts, no convenience food. Some of my fondest memories are sitting on the kitchen counter, my legs hitting the metal cupboards below, watching my mom do her magic.

Our raspberries vines are still full of berries and I am trying to pick them before they mold and I feel lucky to have this bounty. But more importantly, I cherish the bounty of love my parents provided to me, food for the body and food for the soul.

Important Stuff

I have always been a huge Anna Quindlen fan. Her essays on parenting are the few essays I have ever kept. I heard her speak once and felt like she was saying all the things I wish I could, and saying them much more eloquently. I read her essays in Newsweek and some are good and some aren't. I've read all her fiction books and some are good and some aren't. The essay in Newsweek this week really struck me. It's about the presidential election and here's a link to the full text if you have the time and desire to read it- It's called "This is Important" : http://www.newsweek.com/id/160062
Here's the last couple of sentences and the heart of the issue:
Here is the only thing about anyone's kids that matters now: every time you vote you make your kids a promise. It's a promise that you will look past cheap slogans and lazy alliances to try to find a way to make America worthy of a new generation. And if we keep that promise in November, we not only keep faith with our children, we keep faith with the country.

Hooray for Haircuts

After about 5 years of hair in the eyes and whining by mom, Nate decided on his own to get his hair cut this week. I think it looks great and he's getting used to it. He's loving being a big senior and just got a job lifeguarding at the aquatic center. Life is good. He gave me permission to put his picture up here and in fact insisted on many posed shots. So here's couple for you. And here's the even better news - his hats don't fit anymore!

Flying away

Since we've moved on from "front door" pictures for the first day of school, I think I'll do pictures of my kids at the airport as they fly away to one destination after another. Today Elizabeth departed for Korea again. It was great to have her here and share some "girl time", but I know she is very excited to begin her new job. She's looking forward to new challenges and more travel and perhaps a ride on a yak in Mongolia! Happy trails, Elizabeth!