Transitions

Mary and I are definitely going through some life changes. Daughter One graduating and going off to start her life, Daughter Two not coming home for the summer for the first time so she can do research at her college. Changes at work, not all for the better.

We’re looking at finally putting in landscaping that will last for as long as we’re here. I’m trying to overcome inertia and finally finish my B degree. Medical stuff, aging stuff. Seems like everything’s changing.

We went on a day trip today to recover that parka that I’d brilliantly managed to leave in a hotel room most of the way across the state. We had to drive through the mountains, which took us along the edge of Keechelus Lake. The lake is going through some changes of its own. Most of it is open water just now, although there are still some areas of ice on the Hyak end. It’s a shallow reservoir, and during the winter months, its surface is frozen - or not - in response to the weather on an almost weekly basis. And of course, being a reservoir, the area it covers expands and contracts as the water level goes up and down. As it contracts, the water line recedes, exposing the stumps of the forest that used to occupy the valley.  

The appearance of the lake is transformed again and again over the cycles of freeze and snow coverage, snow melt, drawn down to provide drinking water to the cities below, then rains and freeze and the cycle repeats.

The avalanche hazard areas by the snow shed are now largely mudslides but the ski runs and top peaks are all still covered in snow. For the moment, anyway.

Through the Yakima Valley, past Zillah and Toppenish to theTri-Cities there are miles and miles of farms with crops in all stages from fallow to full bloom. The alfalfa fields are already lush but the bean frames stand empty and rather forlorn looking.  

The road crews are working at full tilt and I hope they make a visit soon to the five or six miles through Snoqualmie pass where almost all the lane markings have been scoured away by winter ice, sand, and snowplows.

Everything is changing and I love it all.

As we drove, Mary and I talked about change. About the type of place we’d like to retire to, and what we’d like to do next with the house we currently occupy.  About how we’d like to spend holidays and vacations and days off.  It’s entirely different making such plans for just ourselves.

With the girls off on their own life pursuits, we’re cycling back to our days in the Donner house in Fresno, where we were last just a couple. I’m looking forward to what the future will bring.

Change can definitely be a good thing.

Errata

Big, big tilde!!!
It is NOT THE CASE that I will be better off for having left my daughters behind. Rather, the world will be better off for them having been left in it.

Did no one notice this faux pas on my part?

Two young women

There are two young women who make me feel that, regardless of what I accomplish or not, however I leave this world, I will leave it better off for having left them behind.

Thanks to Daughter One and also Daughter Two for making me better just by letting me share, helping me grow by watching you grow, and putting up with the occasional and horrifying sight of me trying to dance.

I hope we have many more years and that I’ll get to see the yous you’ll become. But whatever the future holds, you’ll be in it, and that’s good enough for me.

Coming home

Had some nastiness at work this week and didn’t feel up to blogging. Plus I’m in a killer travel cycle just now, but I’ll try to do better.

I looked at The Letters the other day and was taken aback by how many there are. By The Letters, I mean the missives I’ve written to my daughters (and occasionally to Mary, as well) over the years. I wrote them mostly on airplanes when I’d be on my way somewhere and get to thinking about some event in our lives or their progress in this or that or…whatever.  It was an idea I stole from some other dad in one of the Chicken Soup series.

These letters will serve to leave them something of me when I’m no longer able to communicate directly. I hope they enrich my daughters’ future lives. I know that writing them has enriched mine.

It had been several years since I’d written a regular column and many years since I’d written fiction. Other than occasional client writing, I hadn’t put pen to paper in forever. Writing those letters helped me get back in the communicating habit.

Those letters were the bridge that brought me back to myself in a very personal way.  Eventually, I was comfortable enough – and of course, the programmers of this web site put technology within my grasp – to try this blogging thing and I found I really liked it.

More than liked it, actually. This venue has given me such a lovely way to be in touch with a small group of good friends.

And now, I’m back to writing a book. I’m home and I have my daughters and Mary and each and all of you to thank for it.

Volunteerism

We’ve received several calls of late from folks who want us to volunteer for political campaigns. I won’t name them, because I don’t mean for this to come off as a partisan rant. And besides, what I’m here to complain about has nothing to do with planks or platforms.

Today’s moaning has more to do with gall. Not bile but rather, the inflated sense of self-importance that so many wannabe politicos seem to sport.

So, this friendly-enough-sounding guy calls to ask for Mary, who wasn’t home and would not have been receptive at any rate. He wants to let her know that an opportunity has arisen to volunteer for Jane Doe’s campaign for U.S. Congress. Yowser! And if she doesn’t feel sufficiently honored by the fabulous offer –he called three times without getting through to my lovely spouse - perhaps I’d like to seize the day for mine own self.

Now, what you need to know about candidate Jane Doe is that she’s a fairly young former Microsoft exec who exercised a gadzillion dollars in stock options, retired early and is now on her third attempt at using her hard-earned wealth to fund a run for the House.

We could talk all night about her qualifications (scanty, in my estimation), her vision (skewed, I’d say), or her propensity for running slam ads in the last couple of days before we go to the polls (including accusations that have in the past been proven specious within days AFTER the election). Let’s just say she’s not someone for whom Mary or I would probably choose to vote.

What she does have is money. Lots of money. Lots and lots and lots of money.

I won’t go into our family finances in this venue. Let me just say that the money Mary and I have could not accurately be described using even a solitary ‘lots.’ 

There is something out of touch about a bazillionaire candidate who thinks her best bet is to ask barely-middle-class folks with two kids in college to volunteer time to help her  get elected to an office for which she’s so ill-suited.

We believe in volunteerism. And I suppose there’s some irony to be found in the fact that I believe there should be much more grass-roots volunteerism and much less money in U.S. politics. But Mary and I tend to step up for things we believe in. Like the daughters’ schools. Friends with needs. Habitat for Humanity. Stuff like that.

We’re not inclined to volunteer to help seat yet another lackluster legislator. Particularly not one of questionable ethics who I suspect of viewing politics as some sort of rich person’s hobby.

Fifty-nine

Pro: Less than 60.   Con: More than 58  

Pro: Can afford to eat out.     Con: Can’t eat a lot of that they have to offer.

Pro: I’m still here.     Con: But for how long?

Pro: I have some really good old friends.     Con: No real con to this.

Pro: Young women no longer see me as a nerd.    Con: Young women no longer see me.

Pro: No sign of the onset of Alzheimer’s.   Con: Not sure my family agrees with this pro.

Pro: My hand bounces in time to the music.   Con: Even when there’s actually no music.

Pro: People still laugh at my jokes.    Con: Sometimes when they laugh, I’m not joking.

Pro: I’ve finally started writing regularly.   Con: At age 58, CRAP!

Sometimes justice does prevail

George Zimmerman was charged with murder today. And that’s appropriate.

I don’t know exactly what happened that night when he shot Trayvon Martin to death. The press doesn’t know, and neither do you.

I know what I suspect to be true, based on the reports I’ve seen. But I’m not qualified to judge, nor do I presume to know all the evidence.

This thing belongs in court where rules of evidence apply. That’s no guarantee of justice either – witness the O.J. fiasco – but it at least offers the possibility of fair play.

The only thing I know for sure is that in this confrontation, one guy was walking around the neighborhood carrying a gun and now a young man is dead.

Thanks so much, NRA!

Paella

So, I made my first paella tonight. For the sake of those of you who may never have attempted this wonderful dish, please learn from my failures by taking these few suggestions to heart.

1)      Start with the simple Rachael Ray recipe (available on the Internet) before you move on to more authentic (and difficult) recipes.

2)      Whatever recipe you use, read it before starting and follow it while proceeding.

3)      When purchasing the proteins, keep in mind that they all end up in the pan. So in deciding quantities, don’t treat each protein as though it was the only protein. Can you say, leftovers?

4)      Mise en place is everything. I learned this term on Top Chef and kind of smirked at the idea of needing to have everything in place before you start. Having tried to grab things from the cupboard as needed, this is the chastened me saying…Mise en place is everything.

5)      Making paella is not for sissies.

6)      Allow ample time.

7)      When you have dinner at the Simas’s and Sharon and Ernie make a flawless, gorgeous paella while serving drinks and carrying on conversations with their guests, be impressed.

My latest list

Advertising efforts that do not have what I assume is the desired affect on me:

1)      Waving signs at me on street corners;

2)      Any ad  that promotes the idea that parents are stupid, uncool or clueless and that pre-teen kids have all the answers;

3)      The Mentos spots in which we were supposed to laugh along with people being “fresh,” when in fact, they were just being obscenely rude;

4)      Anything with prominent butts – I do not want to see your butt on TV, no matter how shapely;

5)      Ditto breasts – context is everything;

6)      Any ad suggesting I may be entitled to a settlement for injuries;

7)      Public Service Announcements in which multi-millionaire actors tell me where to send my money, how to act, what to care about, etc. I love actors and acting but being able to deliver a line does not qualify you to give the rest of us life advice;

8)      Billboards;

9)      Anything inserted into a magazine that wafts scents when opened;

10)   Anything hung on my doorknob or inserted under my windshield wiper;

11)   People shoving handbills at me in any venue;

12)   Unsolicited sales calls to my home phone;

13)   2/3 of the crap that ends up in my mailbox;

14)   Text ads on my cell phone;

15)   Etc.

Can you tell I’m cranky today? Does it show at all?