Sometimes one needs to be a bit creative (and quite silly) when trying to negotiate a break in caregiving. It helps to have a good friend:


Dear Lady in Black,
Be prepared; "Operation Sneak Out" goes into effect starting tomorrow night. If Plan "A" to WW is aborted then Plan "B" goes into effect (have your walking shoes on); of course we could always opt out for Plan "C" but it involves a bonfire and your neighbors could get a wee testy. Small fire, though, so it is still in the pot for consideration.
Dress your best, I'm thinking camo (optional) and/or dark clothing would be fitting.
Love,
The Queen of Sneak

Your Sneaky Highness,
You are such a great friend!
I will be ready for whatever adventure we can drum up.
If we make it to WW, though, I'm worried about you driving home at midnight. you are welcome to stay the night. You can have J's room with the sofa bed and the half bath and we'll make sure you are up early to get to work.
Hope I'm not too old for these late night shenanigans. Maybe I can catch a wee nap this afternoon.
Contemplating my disguise...
Lady in Black

Lady in Black,
Last night was fun and I'm ready for the next adventure! I stayed up until 2 am reading my Kindle (did I tell you it was a GOOD story) then slept like a log until I got up at 6 am. Yes, it was a solid 4 hours; no tossing or turning. I felt so refreshed this morning. I really need to borrow the Harry Potter books to catch up on the gap between where I left off and last night's movie. I'm glad you were able to fill me in on the story as we travelled to WW.
The trip home was good, only passed 4 cars so I was able to use my brights most of the trip. Hardly anyone was out in the wee hours of the night.
Thanks for the movie - my turn next time.
Savoring the adventure,
The Queen of Sneak

Queenie,
I'm so glad you had no trouble getting home! Mom and I both had a good day yesterday. I think Tuesday's late night escape did us both good; Mom realized she'd done something special for me, and I got out and did something I really wanted to do (with nearly no guilt). I don't know how you do it on four hours of sleep, though. Although I read awhile too and got one more hour of snoring in than you, I was still falling asleep during So You Think you Can Dance tonight.
I have the books and DVDs ready to send to you so you can fill in the gaps. I was distressed that you had to learn about Dumbledore in such a heartless manner. We should have watched Deathly Hallows, part 1 before our rendezvous, but I was too impatient.
Thanks again for the daring adventure, the pleasure of which will satisfy me for a long time...or, at least, until the next time!
Take care, Queen of Sneak. I remain forever your friend,
Lady in Black

Creative Juices

Recently, I spent a couple afternoons helping a friend plan and create decorations for a cake table. She found online a great set of plastic cake tiers that can be dismantled and rearranged in various heights. The best part of this set is that the upright tubes are hollow, and absolutely screaming for decoration. Needless to say, this called for a shopping trip and we came home laden with tasteful silk flowers, ribbons, florist wire, miniature lights, battery-operated votives, and yards of tulle. Although the final set up will be determined later, we filled the tubes with simple bits of design and played around with different arrangements (in between the hot tub and lunch, of course).

I also surprised this same friend with a photo album called “Grandma’s Brag Book.” All she has to do is just add pictures of little Emma.

What Matters

In our neck of the woods the new year dawned at a clear, crisp eight degrees and was up to a whopping twelve above zero by lunchtime. The sun shone on the ice-covered branches that sparkled against the blue sky and, in between popping in and out of Mom’s room to help her now and then, I leisurely snapped some pictures on this lovely, lazy day. Little did I know that the day would soon change.

Earlier in the week we had learned of the sudden death of my cousin, Shari, on Christmas Eve morning. We spent the ensuing days trying to grasp this unexpected news as memories flooded us. I tried to focus on the thought of her spending Christmas with the very One whose birth we were celebrating. We spent New Years Eve, the day of her funeral service, in prayer so that we might join the family in spirit.

Because of our loss, the first day of 2011 seemed even more like a beginning. We had had a reminder of the sanctity of life and the choice to live it whole heartedly and with humor and love, the way Shari had, and the radiant day seemed to invite us to do just that. Then we heard a double thump on the monitor that links us to Mom when she is in her room followed by her voice calling me. Sure enough, she had fallen. Hanging on to her walker while she reached sideways to pick up a Kleenex off her bed, she lost her delicate balance and tipped over. Somehow, in that narrow, carpeted space between the closet and her bed she scraped her head against something that left an inch-long gouge. A quick trip to the emergency room resulted in a CAT scan to make sure hidden blood vessels were not disturbed and then four staples closed the gap in her scalp. Of course, that took most of the afternoon and we trudged home with much less verve than we had started the day. Although Mom was muttering that she had gone without any makeup on and was appalled at the look of her matted hair when she got home, we were thankful that things were not worse and reassured her that she was not bound for a nursing home. I went to bed hoping for a New Years Day do-over; that this little mishap was not a premonition of things to come. Sure enough, today was better.

Every summer, when we go back to take care of Mom’s house and yard, we visit two of her best friends that are still alive and living in a retirement complex. I have spoken before of their humorous visits in which I am called upon to repeat everyone’s sentences so they can hear better. Last year, we did not get everyone together because Mom was not up to it in June, and her pacemaker surgery kept us from going back. Over Christmas Jen devised a plan for them to have a long distance visit over Skype and recruited a family friend who works at the retirement complex to help us. Today that visit took place and was every bit as hysterical and heart warming as ever. They laughed over age and mixed up memories, they talked over one another and relied on me for repetition and interpretation, they told our friend he was cute, and they waved and told each other good bye and that they loved and missed each other until I finally closed the connection. Their sounds of earnest sincerity will always be with me; a lesson in treasured friendship that I will never forget.

The end of 2010 and the beginning of 2011 has certainly been a time of transition for us. We are different. Things around us are different. We will sorely miss the good things of before, the people and lives that were so familiar and safe, but we have been reminded not to be afraid of what’s ahead. There will be moments of stumbling, but we still have each other to reach for and the light of friendship and love to guide us. Happy New Year to us all. May we live it with as much joy as possible.

Ho, Ho, Ho

Last weekend I joined my shopping buddies in Portland for round the clock fun. We wear out sooner than we did when we started this tradition thirty years ago, but I'm pleased to announce that I can still do a mean mall walk. Jennifer, Sarah, and Danielle joined us at different times. It was really nice to connect with them, but it meant that they had to track us down by cell phone and try to pin us down to a meeting place. It's probably a little like trying to herd cats. As always, they were patient with us and good sports about wearing Betty's "Christmas Crowns" that she says spread cheer and help her find us in the stores when she's lost. We took a moment to let Sarah and Danielle entertain us with their wall climbing and bouldering. They had it worked out with management to give us turns, but we settled instead for taking pictures of them in action. Maybe next year.

I apologize to the family members that I neglected to call. Time always zooms by and I had more trouble than usual keeping my phone charged. We kept ourselves pretty busy hopping between shopping centers and individual stores scattered around the area, trying to at least find the things we could only get in the city. I still have some online ordering to do and some local shopping, but I can breath a little easier. The place where we stayed set up a wrapping room complete with Christmas paper, bows, labels, ribbon, scissors, and tape so we spent our last evening wrapping about half of our packages.

Here Danielle is tutoring Betty in a shirt folding trick that takes a certain flick of the wrist. After giving everyone individual lessons, they practiced on their own clothes the rest of the evening and the next morning when we packed up to leave. I guess we're pretty easily entertained.

Now it's time for the hot tub! What a group. We have so much fun every year, we have come to realize that it is less about the shopping and more about the personal connections. Each of us has had our share of difficult moments, but no matter where life takes us, we always have this time set aside for each other; a time for wise cracks, silliness, commiserating, and fun with a little shopping, eating, and margaritas on the side. Get ready! Only 364 days until we're back!

It's Ironic

Life has a lot of little ironies. I suppose that’s what makes it interesting, isn’t it? Yes, frustrating, too, and aggravating and a tiny bit humorous, but, at the very least, not boring. They are those shake-your-head moments that leave you speechless except for the wry twist of a grin that tweaks one side of your mouth when you think about it. You'd swear for a moment that it must be some kind of April Fools joke, but no, it isn't; it's just life.

For instance, when I started back to college to get my teaching degree, schools in my area were hurting for teachers, but, ironically, my graduation coincided with the present economic downturn that has caused severe school cutbacks and not even a whisper of any job opportunities.

There are more such twists of fate that cause me to pause. Such as, how an avowed nontraveler ended up across the globe for three weeks. How someone who graduated summa cum laude could think jogging barefooted on the treadmill was a good idea. How an alert driver who is diligently trying to swerve around potholes can hit them dead center every time. How an animal lover can love leather shoes. How a vegetable hater can suddenly crave broccoli. How a chocoholic can be allergic to chocolate. How a duck hunter can adopt a drake named Frank.

Pancakes Please

Since today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, yesterday was Shrove Tuesday, sometimes better known as Fat Tuesday. The latter name reflects the effort of soon-to-be Lenten fasters to cram into one day all the eating and fun that will be ecclesiastically frowned upon during the encroaching forty days and nights of Lent. Some communities, such as New Orleans and Venice, even stretch this magical day into a week-long mardi gras festival. Here, in my little corner of eastern Oregon, amid the wheat fields, foothills, and pea patches, however, we keep things simpler.

Tonight, our parish is hosting a Shrove Tuesday Pancake Dinner, replete with ham, pancakes, applesauce, and scrambled eggs. No masks, dancing, or debauchery here, just plain, down-home, clean-out-the-fridge type cooking with a side of ask-the-neighbors-over and visit-across-the-table hospitality. Much of the town filters in from work to plunk down a few dollars and fill up on the simple fare, the hall reverberating with chatter.

Frankly, I wonder every year why people come when it would seem easier to go home and flip their own flapjacks for free. But they keep coming anyway, people from other churches or no church at all, to support this little Catholic shindig. I suppose it is cheap enough that even large families can afford to give Mom a night off and basic enough that even the pickiest eaters will be content. And, too, it is a quick and easy outing for a school night.

I have also wondered why we put this dinner on, especially since there are so few of us to do the work. Who else, besides us, cares that Lent is approaching? Or is it to help pay our bills? The Octoberfest Dinner that we host in the fall is a larger money-maker, but maybe it isn’t enough.

Dorothy says that we host this dinner for the same reason that people come:  community. Our working together toward a common goal builds a sense of family among the people at church, and people come in order to acknowledge and support our place within the larger community of our town. She says we all NEED this dinner and I believe she’s right. It really isn’t about pancakes at all.

New Car Old Friends

Don and I spent our post-Christmas/pre-New Years break researching, number crunching, and hemming and hawing about new cars. Finally, in a typical rush of indecision, we decided the stars were aligning in a pattern we couldn’t ignore and found ourselves on the road to Fossil; the K-family childhood home and the birthplace of one of the few low-pressure/high-integrity car dealerships left on Earth. The result was coming home ten hours later with a nicer car than we’d gone to get, at a better price than we had hoped for, warm butts from the pleasurably heated seats, and smiling faces as we realized we’d just gotten our first “grown up” car.

Besides the successful venture, however, something even more important happened on this impromptu trip that doesn’t always occur when we visit our roots. Sometimes when we go back, we return feeling sad because of all the changes in people and icons. Family homes might be different or completely gone, friends have died or moved away, and what was once familiar and comforting seems not to acknowledge us any more. On this day, when our minds were diverted with the usual torture of decision-making, we were surprised to experience a genuine homecoming.

Although there are several Chevy dealerships nearby, it was a very natural decision to drive three hours to Wrights Chevrolet. Herb had started the business and hired Don’s mom to do the bookkeeping when the kids were little. Eventually, Herb’s son-in-law, Bill, took over the business, and now Bill’s son, Billy, who at 44 has long since outgrown the nickname, is running the sales department while his dad has semi-retired to the parts department. Since they close at midday on Saturdays, we left home early and only expected to see the two Bills. Instead, we were met by the whole family and spent three hours visiting and maybe one hour actually doing business. One of the retired mechanics who used to like to harass Don and his brothers even stuck his head in to greet him.

We couldn’t believe that everyone stayed there the entire time and stood outside to wave goodbye when we finally left two hours after closing time. Memories were shared and pictures and stories of kids and grandkids were passed around and repeated at least twice. After dragging ourselves away, we also made sure to swing into Nornie’s, a family friend, at least long enough to give her a hug and once again exchange family news.

Don and I left Fossil that day with a lot more than a car. It was nice to know that even though many things have changed, we still have roots there. We are actually missed by some people who are part of who we are. It goes without saying that we would never have forgotten them, that they hold a special place in our hearts, but it was incredibly nice to find out from their actions that we meant something to them, too. And, I must admit, that is even better than heated seats.

Project WILD SHOPPERS: Shop-to-Drop 2009 Trip

Mission Statement:  Leave no store un-shopped!

Objectives:
     1) Create joy for ourselves and everyone around us.
     2) Don’t lose Betty...
     3) Eat well and often!

Tools: head gear & earrings by BJ, necklace by Dave, comfy shoes, shopping lists, sale ads, discount coupons, cell phones, husbands’ credit cards, cash.

Secret Weapon:

     Betty, “on the whine” for a special deal!

Mottos:

     1) No shrimp left behind!

     2) No good deal passed up without dickering for a lower price.

Rules:
     No men (except chauffeurs only)
     No children (unless nursing)
     Whatever BJ makes for headgear you wear PROUDLY without whimpering.

     Pre-authorize MIA or be willing to pay the consequences. (This means you, Sarah and Jen!)

     Bottom line – No humor, no go!

Obstacles:
     Grumpy, bah-humbug people
     So many stores, so few of us
     Getting around people who obviously don’t realize we’re shopping, or hungry, or cold!

Shopping Health Food Groups:
     Lattes, especially eggnog
     Shrimp; lots and lots of shrimp
     Cheesecake
     Haggen daas
     Margueritas, any flavor
     Shrimp (remember our motto!)

Accomplishments:

     Worked out on the Wii to develop balance and stamina for the trip

     Made good memories together.

     Laughed a lot.

     Only reminded once to be quieter in the bookstore (thanks to Danielle for bringing the obscene chicken).

     Ate remarkably well

    

    Drove safely

     Maintained Christmas spirit

     Spread good cheer everywhere we went

     Indoctrinated a free spirit shopper

Evaluation: Mission successful.

Recommendations:

     1) Learn how to operate Karen’s coffeepot, microwave, and car temp/air flow controls.

     2) Meet Karen at Arlington and drive all the way to Portland on Thursday so we can eat a good meal, watch a movie, and sleep in the next morning.

     3) Remember the Christmas music cd, not just the cd jacket (this means you, Karen).

     4) Pay closer attention to room numbers before you make a fool of yourself. If you mess up, run like hell.

Ready for Ultimate Shopping

It is time. Even my toes are ready. Two local preparatory shopping trips, the last of which included a spa pedicure, have helped us pull together our Christmas lists so that today BJ and I can migrate to Karen’s house for the night and then get up early to head into the Big City for the weekend. Although we will meet up on the fly with friends and family, our primary goal is to Christmas shop, laugh, eat, and shop some more.

This year marks our twenty-ninth year of making this trip. When we began, we lived in the same small, isolated town and each had one or more children under eight years old. In fact, Karen and I made the first trip alone, going down and back in one very long day. BJ came with us the following year when we extended the trip to include an overnight stay in a shared motel room. We figured out which stores opened earliest every morning as places to start and shopped at Toys-R-Us last because it was open until midnight. In all the years since, I have only missed twice and one of those times was not worth it. When I dutifully decided on my own to stay home to save money one year, I soon learned that the trip with these friends was a Christmas gift to myself that I couldn’t afford to do without.

Our annual trip now begins at noon on Thursday and extends through Sunday evening when we dawdle in to our respective homes as late as possible. Together we have survived moving away from each other, raising our kids, empty nest syndrome, changing jobs, retirement, family illnesses, deaths, caregiving, and cancer. Nothing can ever replace the memories that bind us to one another; the laughter, tears and craziness. Hair dying in our underwear in the motel bathroom, a naked man in the hot tub that Karen never saw, BJ riding in my Toys-R-Us cart, being serenaded over my chimichanga, getting a ride from BJ on an unattended hand cart, late night stops for ice cream and Megabucks tickets at Albertsons, wearing matching bawdy decorations in our hair that often jangle, sparkle, or bob so that BJ can find us in the stores, and making newcomers to the group park the car, carry packages, and run our coats and packages to the car periodically are just a few of the reasons that I hold these friends and our time together so dear. And I haven’t even mentioned the amount of shrimp we can put away at an all-you-can-eat special, or the tears I have shed from long bouts of uncontrolled laughter, or BJ’s amazing ability to milk a great deal out of any proprietor.

No, this trip is about more than just shopping, although I would never admit that out loud. It is about female solidarity, friendship, and fun and I am really glad that my daughters have been able to be part of it. I wish this simple but pure joy for all of our children and I hope that they carry it on after we are gone.

So I wish you all a great weekend, wherever you are, and I pray for good roads and lots of laughter for us all. Sarah will be on a similar trip of her own with friends this year, Jen is off to New Zealand (so watch her blog, Traveling Red, for updates and pictures), and Jeremy is busy in NYC, but Danielle will be joining us for the first time... I wonder if she remembers the rule about carrying our bags?

Pre- Pre-Christmas Shopping

This is what my friend, Betty, called me last week to suggest we do. Last year we went on a local pre-Christmas shopping trip before our annual weekend marathon in Portland. That way we could take some of the pressure off of filling our lists and maybe work in some fun or relaxing activities when we got to the big city with other friends and family. It actually was a huge help, and lots of fun, so this year she suggested that we had enough time for two preparation trips if we wanted; and, of course we “wanted.”

We didn’t bring home much, but we did officially get a start on Christmas and I am feeling much more organized. More importantly, we had fun, which is ultimately what shopping is all about! Getting lost on turnabouts, laughter and lunch, solving the world’s problems and thinking about what we can do for others, complaining and consoling, and then more laughter and dessert: how else would I want to prepare for the season of giving?

So, here are some images of our pre- pre-Christmas shopping trip. Our pre-Christmas trip will be in November and the official Christmas shopping spree, where we meet five others in Portland, will be in early December.

Aren’t the fall colors beautiful? We had a crisp, lovely day in which to get lost, as one tends to do in the Tri-Cities area.

This is what was left from our shrimp lunches at Red Lobster. It became a strengthening snack before we tackled Craft Warehouse. (Waste not, want not.) Later, Betty gave me a ride on a hand truck in Best Buy and then we met a woman our age at the mall who was a recent widow forcing herself to get out of the house for awhile because weekends were still hard. She had just come from a coffee date with a group of women who were usually depressing, but that day were fun, and was happy to tell us that her husband had had relatives in our neck of the woods. (I don’t know exactly how it happens, but Betty has an uncanny ability to draw information like that out of complete strangers just by asking for directions. It’s a gift. She can also squeeze the best deals out of the driest turnips with just one sad, little whimper. Truly awe inspiring, but not the only reason she is my friend.)

It took three stores for me to finally break through the ice of indecision and make my first purchase, albeit for myself. I came home with more than a calendar, though. Don’t you wish you knew what I got YOU? Time to send me your wish lists! (Betty said so.) You know who you are.

Spend time with a friend. It feels good.

Breakfast?

This used to be a family size pizza and a pan of garlic cheese bread until it became breakfast for six hungry young women. I had offered all kinds of breakfast foods, but once the cold pizza was spotted, it was all over. Driving a variety of distances ranging from 240-400 miles after work on Thursday, Danielle and five college friends converged at our house at 4 a.m. After collapsing for five hours of sleep they readied themselves for a full day at the rodeo. Ah, to be young and resilient. The cinnamon rolls were to help fortify them before they headed home Saturday morning.

Wha? You Did NOT Just Say That!

At 95, Mom has outlived most of her contemporaries, a fact that makes both of us sad; but two of her good friends still live in her hometown. Within the last year they have each moved into apartments in the local assisted living facility. Last week we set aside an afternoon to go up and see them. I was a little chagrined that Mom would not call ahead to set it up herself since they were her friends and I felt very awkward doing it, but I "sucked it up" and did it for her anyway. As I waited by the front door while she slowly made her way back from "one-last-trip-to-the-bathroom-before-we-leave-even-though-I-said-I-was-ready," I kept asking myself why we were doing this. However, as soon as I saw their faces light up like that of a kid in a candy store when they spotted each other, I was really glad we had made the effort.

The above photo of these three muskateers only reveals the canned smiles that they use for posed pictures. I wish I could have taken some candid ones without spoiling the mood once they were settled in W's easy chairs, laughing at a bazaar conversation that I fear, even at 54, my ears were too young to hear.

J: "You know, I've lost weight and am so bent over now that I am nothing but loose, saggy fat all through here" (pointing along waistline).

W: "Well, at least you have titties!"

Stunned silence, then surprised laughter.

W: "You always had some pretty good ones."

(Excuse me?! Did the most proper, lady-like person in the room just tell my mom she had had great TITTIES and actually say the word titties out loud? Why do I feel like I should not be hearing this?)

J: "Oh yes, and now they hang down to here!" (pointing to navel)

More hysterical laughter!

In this incredible moment I realized that such abandoned laughter is the epitome of friendship; it is the laughter of trust. These ladies have been through alot together. Although they speak of shopping trips, card parties, and coffee get-togethers as the substance of their relationship, I am reminded of more than that. They have stood by each other during child-rearing, physical ailments such as cancer, the death of loved ones, and spousal caretaking. They have shared with one another their feelings, worries, joys, time, and prayers as only long time-friends can, and they have supported one another even when words or understanding failed. Now, even though their memories are faulty and they often can't hear each other very well, they still make each other light up with joy. I wish this type of friendship for us all and I feel it such a priviledge that I have been able to witness theirs.