A Five Book Day

Don has a habit of writing up trip reports and sending them to the eWorld as his standard way of a.) keeping in touch with friends and; b.) keeping a journal. I just picked up on his take on yesterday's fun day at the bookstores. Our styles are totally different (so what else is new about us???!!) and I thought it would be a kick to drop his trip report here to show off a bit of his style and humor.

Happy New Year’s and a Blessed New Year!

Yesterday’s activities started by Krista going to Tresetti’s World Café, in Modesto, and purchasing a gift certificate as her Christmas present to her parents, and Annie and Quanah each purchasing a Border’s gift card for their respective Christmas present to me. Guess what I found in my stocking. Krista’s present was in Annie’s stocking.

Annie, being the social secretary, suggested that we take Saturday to go to Tresetti’s and then go to Borders. She also likes to relax there.

After French onion soup and crab cakes and respective sandwiches and good coffee, we headed to Annie’s “add-on”. She always does that. We start out with one or two places to go to and she adds on as many as she thinks I will tolerate and agree to. The add-on was Barnes and Nobles. Annie was searching for a particular literary magazine, which she had found there once before.

Barnes and Nobles did not produce the magazine for her. It is rare that I venture into a bookstore and not walk out with a book in hand. While Annie was searching, I was perusing. I discovered and purchased the following:

Hard Tack and Coffee by John D. Billings. First published in 1880. Billings served with the Army of the Potomac and tells of army life, when the soldier was not marching or fighting.

Druids Their Origins and History by Lewis Spence, to go with my other Druid book on their influence in Europe.

O. Henry, complete and unabridged. Related to the War Between the States in that William Sidney Porter, O. Henry, was born in North Carolina in 1862.

The first two books I could not pass up as they were on the bargain shelves. O. Henry is one of a series of “Noted Authors” published by Barnes and Nobles itself; large hardbound, approximately 1,500 pages of small print for only thirteen dollars. I’ll take that deal. O. Henry is to American literature as Norman Rockwell is to American art. I enjoy the talents of both.

Driving over to Border’s, I found a parking space right in front of the store. I had my gift cards, a printout of the book I had already reserved on-line the day before, and a Borders Rewards Card in my shirt pocket. The Rewards Card is in Annie’s name. My purchases gain her points.

She headed to the magazine section as I headed over to the History section, after obtaining an eggnog Latte at their coffee shop. That store has several shelves devoted to the War Between the States, with many worthy publications to choose from. After reading each title and selecting some to inspect, I held Mosby’s autobiography in one hand and Mary Chesnut’s Civil War in the other. After giving both a closer study, I opted for Mary Chesnut’s Civil War edited by C. Vann Woodward. The publication is her diary during the war years as a Deep South Southern Belle. Now that I know about Mosby’s book I can purchase it later, but for now I wanted her’s.

Taking my find over to Annie, I discovered that she was very pleased at finding Rosebud. Next stop; check out counter. I went first and requested the book I had reserved. The clerk produced my copy of The Civil War Chronicle edited by J. Matthew Gallman. It contains writings by soldiers, journalists, politicians, farmers, nurses, slaves, and other eyewitnesses of the war’s events and told from both the Union and Confederate sides of view, in the only day-by-day composition.

I paid a dollar something and the clerk handed me my library additions. Annie had chosen several magazines, which my discount was used for and I handed the clerk a few dollars more. Shades of Clint Eastwood!

Once in the car, we were both smiling about our treasures. Annie began to page through Cloth, Paper, Scissors and she discovered an article by one of her blog friends. Well that was meant to be.

I drove the car south back to Turlock and Annie’s second add-on; the new Catholic book store down on Main Street. It is Turlock’s one and only.

Upon entering, I saw a sign stating that all Christmas merchandise was forty percent off. I began to wonder just what we would walk out with. After viewing each display, we purchased a beautiful one piece Nativity. It is now setting on our entrance table for year-round display. Annie also selected some cards. She also took note of another one piece Nativity in the window and two cross plaques to go with the one she now has. If this store goes out of business, it will not be for lack of Annie’s support.

It was a good day. Just the two of us enjoying a couple of life’s interests that we have in common. A very good day.

A Happy Day

We had such a happy day today, Don and I. With the interment, Christmas, and other matters behind us, today was OUR day to get out and about, just the two of us. Krista gave us a gift certificate to Tresetti's World Cafe so we started out there. Wine, coffee (of course!!) to die for French Onion soup, burgers (but oh what burgers!!), and crab cakes - delish and we left stuffed and waddling.

Our original plan was to go to Border's to spend our gift card money and Reward card money and we did eventually get there but during the lunch it occurred to me that I wanted to take another look at Barnes and Noble for a particular quarterly literary journal that I could not remember the name of. I was convinced I would know it if I saw it so off to B&N we went. No luck for me but Don scored with three of the books you see in the picture below.

Once we got to Border's Don scored yet again. I've been looking for Nick Bantock's Artful Dodger book without luck. It's in print so I know I can order it but I was sort of hoping I might get lucky and find it since it wasn't in the Turlock store. Well, no luck in Modesto either, however, I did discover copies at Amazon and other places so I'll probably just go that route. My search though for my journal came to a successful end. I found Rosebud at the BIG Borders as I affectionately call it, and rather than loss track of it again, I'm finally going to subscribe.

After finding Rosebud I ran across the current issue of Cloth, Paper, Scissors Magazine. Have you ever experienced a mental tug, a mental whisper that turns into a shout? Well, this was happening to me. Mind you, I don't buy this particular magazine on a regular basis but today it just would not let go of me. I thumbed through it, flipping quickly through the pages, kept going back to one particular article and then finally said, "Enough" and made it my own. It wasn't until I got to the car and started looking at the table of contents that I finally understood what was going on. Corey Amaro at Tongue in Cheek was this month's guest writer. For those of you rare birds out there who have not discovered Corey's lyrical blog, be sure to click on her link and prepare to go back for many more visits.



Finally we headed home. BUT one more stop, this time at a new store in Old Turlock, The Mission Bell. The shop is own by the same lady who owns Lily's Emporium. Sadly, there is no website for Lily's to share here. The Mission Bell specializes in Catholic products and books. What a blessing to have such a store here in town and designed into such a pretty and inviting setting. One post-Christmas manger later (also in the picture) we were out the door and heading home. Don says he's not hungry - Hurray, no cooking for me tonight. Excuse me while I dive into one of my treasures.

Lest we not forget

I don't normally get political in this particular blog but with the execution of Saddam Hussein, I found Tara's poem somehow fitting. It doesn't really have anything to do with the execution but it works just the same.

Dear Tara,

The living, those who remain, suffer without rest. Some find refuge in written tribute, building a ladder to earthly memory. You build the ladders, Tara.

Annie

Sunday Scribbles - Destination

After a week of silence and a lot of reflection, I'm a bit closer to what is next for me. Like many of us, I've been thinking about the past, recent events in my life, and what these events mean for my future. In no particular order, I've been thinking about

Weight Loss (always right up there at the top)
Instructing myself more deeply in my Faith
Becoming more disciplined and focused
Becoming more productive
Finishing my kitchen project
Maintaining close ties to my brother and sister
Improve my cooking skills
Getting back to my poetry and haikus
Garden more effectively
Exercise
Bring more energy into my life
Designing thematic photo books
Pray more
Clearing up and reinventing my art room
Resurrecting my creative spirit
Clearing out the cobwebs in my mind and heart

There is a lot of confusion and indecision in my mind and heart these days. For five years my focus was on my mother. Even before she became ill, she could not drive. She was housebound because of that. Shopping, errands, just getting out was impossible for her. She did learn to take the bus to the shops just up the road, which for mom, was a pretty big deal. And then when she moved to Samaritan Village and before her stroke, she formed a circle of friends that brought her not only much happiness but also greater mobility. They drove, she didn't, and they included her. There were a few occasions when mom would show up at my office door at work in the middle of the day and I would be so surprised. These sweet moments brought me a lot of joy. It was wonderful to see mom out and about with friends. But then that all changed.

It took mom 2 1/2 years to pass after her stroke. Even though she regained a degree of mobility and independence, she was never really happy again. She could not speak well and the new language between us was deeply tiring for both of us. Tiring for her in her struggle to communicate. Tiring for me in my quest to listen, hear, and understand. Patience became the center of our communication and our physical interaction.

With mom's passing, I feeling like a rubberband that has lost its snap. Even as I write this, I find my thoughts centered on mom as I sift through what she has meant to my daily life for the past five years. Even when I wasn't with her, my thoughts were not far away. And yet my thoughts are moving forward as I try to discern the first step I must take.




The word "energy" seeps through my mind. I can't do anything without energy. I can't do anything until I give renewed energy the time to do its work. I can't do all things as once. Energy, Focus, Steadiness, discipline. I don't have mom to put first anymore. My children are raised. I have a renewing relationship with my husband to think about as final retirement approaches. The energy is like light forming over a black hole of energy sucking darkness resistant to the encroaching light. Darkness has had dominance for a long time. I will need a lot of energy for this next phase of my life.

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a SAVIOUS,

which is CHRIST THE LORD.

Luke 2:11

Love has a Name. . .

JESUS.

May His Love Surround

Your Christmas

Celebration.

Don's Annual Special Gift to Us

Every year for the past several years, Don has baked his grandmother's banana cake for Christmas. I'm not much of a baker and Don doesn't cook beyond boiling water but his memory of g'ma was very strong. So, every year Don buys a white cake mix, a bundle of bananas and confectionery sugar. He layers it, carefully and evenly slices the bananas, affixes them with the sugar glaze he makes and presents it to us as one of his special gifts of the season. Last year I remember saying that it was too bad we did not have a cake pedestal and cover. THIS year, thanks to his great memory, we have one. Ummmm, delish. His g'ma would be very proud of him.

Two Months to the Day . . .

. . . mom was interred with dad. On December 22nd, we left for the national cemetery in Santa Nella CA around 12:30 and through a comedy of errors (though it didn't feel very funny) we ended up behind every semi and speed-abiding vehicle on the road. Between semis on back roads and excruciating traffic on Interstate 5, I didn't think we would ever get there. What should have taken us 45 minutes took us 75 minutes. Mom's scheduled interment was the last of the day and I didn't know how rigid the cemetery was about starting on time. All I knew was that we were finally burying mom and I felt tension beyond imagining.

There was paperwork still to be accomplished and tag, I was it. Fr. Leonard from Our Lady of Miracles in Gustine arrived a bit after us and I started to feel some immense relief. We met at the service area where we were met by an Honor Guard. Mom was a Navy veteran having served in the Waves in 45-46. Father's commitment service, readings and prayers were perfect for mom and offered with respect and solemnity. When his part of the service was completed, the Honor Guard read a dedication to mom honoring her for her commitment to service and dedication to our country. Several riflemen presented arms for a 21 gun salute. Later one of the volunteers gathered up the casings and presented them to us. With the playing of taps, the service was completed.

Normally, the remains are brought to the burial site without family members present. This is how it happened with dad and I think we all look on our absence from his side with a bit of regret. To avoid that feeling with mom, we insisted that we would be present when her earthly remains were rejoined with his. Dave, Marcia, and I stood by and the site was opened and the remains carefully placed with dad. The urn remained wrapped in the soft maroon colored sack and we all like this very much. Mom always like being wrapped in a blanket and somehow the presence of the sack carried through this symbolism and was a comfort to us. I will always think of mom as not in an urn but in a comfortable chair wrapped in her blanket.

Later David's friend, Scott, broke out a flask of dad's favorite Jack Daniels. Off the group march back to the graveside to salute mom and dad and pour the remains on the stone. Long after dad had lost his desire for food and drink, he was willing to take a bit of JD from mom's fingertip. To the end, he loved his JD so the salute was a fitting one for their reunion.

Later we all gathered at Anderson's Pea Soup Restaurant for a meal. That completed the tradition. Long before dad passed away, we would all go out to the cemetery. It is very peaceful out there. A visit, soup and sandwich, and company with each other and the day was complete.

Around the House

Twenty-seven years ago Don brought home our first manger. Since then we have added mangers for each of our children. This year, after Christmas, Don will be packing them up for the first time and dividing them so that Quanah can take his to his home in Indiana. Since Q is getting married in June and he and Erin will be traveling through here during the summer to pick up some things from the storage locker, this was deemed the perfect time to say good-bye to a few of our mangers. Next year I will be buying mangers again but this time it will be for us. After all, we will need to restock.

A gift from Francine after a trip to Terra del Fuego, Patagonia, Chili, and Peru. This is one of my favorite mangers scenes, if not my favorite. It is hand painted on a clay flower with little hand painted figures carefully set into it.

Two more of many


This Fontanini creche is the one that started it all. When Quanah turned seven we started buying individual figures for him. Now 20 years later, the figures will be packed up and sent home with him next summer. He and Erin can pick out their own central manger figures and we have the pleasure of starting our collection of figures all over again.

Truisms from Clare

Clare over at (click here) posted a list of simple truisms that deeply moved me. I didn't want to forget these simple reminders and so post them here for your pleasure.

Skating, snowing, and snowman building.

Another holiday cheering card. This one comes from Ashland University. Click here to enjoy.

Merry Christmas to all.
Annie

According to Joseph . . .

It's finals and jury time around here and the natives are very hyped up. The students come through looking for pens and pencils, schedules, advising, offers of coffee, dropping off Christmas cards, and just taking a moment to chat. This morning Joseph came through and brought laughter, yet again. He told me, "Anne, if you were a gas station, you would be an AM/PM because you are just so full of good stuff." He had me laughing and smiling and starting off my Monday morning just right.

Photo from stock exchange.

Unexpected Blessings

I've talked about it a lot here that my job is stressful and demanding. Nothing has changed about that and the approaching two weeks off will be a thankful break. However, earlier this week I DID get quite a surprise. But first a bit of background:

Back in 1991 (yes, 91!!!) the State of California went into the first of its many job freeze periods. This resulted in layoffs, no new hiring, and increased workloads for those of us lucky enough to still have a job. It also include a freeze on salary increases. Along the way, things loosened up and a few years later I had finally reached the top of my pay grade. Then I had my job reclassed which help up the salary a bit more. But now, six years past the only raises I've seen have been the very occasional COLAs (cost of living assessments). Two years ago there was another round of layoffs and moving around of staff that directly or indirectly effected many of the campus staff. I was lucky in that I dodged that bullet as well.

I make no secret of the fact that I'm planning to retire in three years. The day I hit 62 I plan to complete that academic year, work through the summer and wave good-bye to 40 hours a week. But early this week a "little" surprise came my way. The current department chair, Deborah, who just started this year, came out with a two page document - a cover letter and a form attached to it. She asked if I would review the letter and form as it was yet another new bit of work for her to review and did I have any thoughts on how best to proceed? It was a form asking for an approval of a salary increase. I looked at it with a fair amount of lack of curiosity thought I did ask who it was for thinking it was for Ken who was a relative new hire in the tech area. When Deborah said it was for me I felt like I had been hit by a taser.

Honest to Blessed God, I was completely floored and said something like, "For ME??? I haven't seen one of these in six years."

To which she immediately replied, "Well, we better sign this right away."

Well, talk about Christmas surprises. I'm still pinching myself about it and I don't even know how much the increase is for. I told Biene about it a few days later and B, God love her, started crying and gave me a big kiss on my cheek. I think she was happier for me than I was.

Christmas Greetings

I hope many of you will click here and enjoy this lovely sentiment.

Mailbox blessing this week

I have been so blessed this past week. I've been pretty out of it this Christmas season. Don has been up to the task of celebrating and preparing but I'm dragging. Then three times this week I opened the mailbox to sweet surprises from Janet, Carol, and Maryellen. I'm beginning to feel the Christmas cheer. Thank you dear friends.

If I could, I would live by the ocean.

I don't but that could change.

Meanwhile, I can look at the tide of leaves

spreading across a sea of grass.

The morning started out gray and damp

moved on to rain

and returned to gray and damp

but through it all the colors burst through.

Meeting Shareen

Meeting Shareen has been a blessing in my life. This lovely woman shows up at House of Java from time to time and after our first meeting that started with an exchange of smiles, our visits have for the most part been here.

There was one day before mom passed on that Shareen came to visit and pray over her. Prayer, in fact, is Shareen's work. She has totally devoted her life to prayer and service and she is one of the most peace-filled people I have ever met.

Shareen was at House of Java this past Friday and she was just what I needed; a jolt of goodness as I sallied off to work to tackle the demands of the day. And as I went, I felt more positive and ready to deal.

A Hand Up and Self-Healing

There is no question that I knew this already but when you find yourself actually doing it, well, you are truly made aware of what a gift it is to offer love and support to others when they are most in need.

I don't think it is any coincidence that my mother passed in October, that Kara lost her mom in November, and today Lisa has lost her mom. We, each of us, have been going through our own grief experiences but I learned something that led me to realize what I'm really here for in this blogverse. Both of these women have turned to me for support and help. They, in turn, were constantly there for me. Offering an ear for them and a word has put my own grief in better perspective. I've been berating myself for not crying for my mother. Tearing up sometimes, yes, but no great, gulping cries. But it actually makes more sense to me now. I cried my tears for mom a long time ago at the beginning of her illness. There really is no reason to cry now. She has achieved her goal of passing on to the next life and I'm positive it is a good one for her.


So, because of Kara and Lisa, it finally reached me today that I was here for the simple purpose of sending out ripples. We all send out ripples and for the most part we have absolutely no idea how our thoughts, words, or actions may effect someone in some future. It's almost a mystical experience to acknowledge that a word or action now could have consequences years from now. This awareness became so strong within me that I was impelled to change my profile. No more list that describes who I am. I now know why I am.

Life is fragile. The potential of future life even more fragile. We must always be very careful of how we act and what we say as we push our ripples into the future.

Wanderings and Shootings

I left work today and immediately felt that I could breathe again. The pressure of reports and deadlines was so great today that I posted a sign on my door, locked up and ignored the phone. The sign read: Sorry. I know you can see me but I'm not here. The answer to any and all questions today is "Not Yet". It worked quite well for the first part of the day but post lunch the natives were not nearly as patient. But, I managed to get my reports finished. Don't know if they will satisfy the PTBs but . . . well, you know.

I left just about on time tonight and immediately took my camera out. I could breathe again and was prepared for another nighttime adventure in THE PARKING LOT.

Here it is. Our own Blue light special ready to provide assistance at the push of the button.

Bus Stop

This stainless steel construction outside of the Art building fascinates me. As temperatures change, it expands and contracts making great thunderous claps. It's not entirely water-tight so when it rains, sometimes you can hear the water INSIDE the construct.

Inside the Mainstage Theatre lobby, the wall is hung with the costume designs of the current show. I liked the idea of exploring the perspective of the images on the wall. The ceiling's great circles of light bounced and reflected off the images.

And finally, just for a little change of pace . . .

Nightlight

Lately I've become fascinated by the potential of my digicam and night scenes. Of all places, the parking lot has caught my attention. Of course, there is only so much potential in the parking lot. Let's see. We have the lot, lights, trees, cars, blue light boxes. Wait, back up, blue light boxes? I know this might sound like the beginning of a K-Mart moment but actually, they are the campus call boxes that connect the caller with the campus' public safety office. I'll get a picture of one of those tomorrow night but for now . . .

Sunday Scribble - In The Last Hour

I've been thinking a lot about last hours this week almost to the point where I may, again, miss the deadline. I believe there is some serious avoidance happening here but the thing that keeps taking my attention is the last hour of life. I cannot get my mother and father off of my mind. I'm sure the holidays have a lot to do with it especially since they both are departed now.

I remember the last hour of my father's life and the lead-up of friendly family visits, friends visiting, music, games, quiet touches as we would walk passed dad's hospice bed. I remember especially mom always being near him and her grief that she felt she had lost him at least two days before he actually died due to the morphine he was given for the pain. I remember the slowing of his breath, it's quietness and then the unexpected gasp as his body struggle for those last breaths, a struggle that pushed beyond the pain-blocking morphine. I remember David on his right, mom on his left, Krista and Marcia across from each other on either side of his bed, that Quanah and Zachery pushed into any open space and Yolanda tucked in at David's side. I stood at his feet holding them though the blanket, aware even then of the coldness that had invaded him there 48 hours before his passing. Don stood a bit removed from the group standing like a guardian over us all. I remember the murmur of the Rosary as we lifted him up in those final moments. I remember 14 year old Krista's explosion of grief as she ran out the door at 12:15 a.m. on a freezing January morning and my rush after her, Don following, both of us surrounding her in our arms as her wild grief-stricken anguish rose up into the night-time sky.

And then I think of mom.

Mom's walk towards her last hour was so different from dad - I was so much more involved. Four months of fighting for her to recover her strength from a simple fall culminated in a week of sleep and bare moments of consciousness. Even today, I ask myself how this happened. But at some point the will to move on becomes stronger than the will to live and I believe this is what happened with my mother. She was exhausted from the struggle and in her last week I saw only tiny glimpses of a woman who had simply chosen to sleep her way to the other side. In the last hour she was, like dad, surrounded by family. We all seemed to instinctively take up the same position that we had taken in dad's last hour and last moments. We touched, we prayed, the music arrived 30 seconds after her passing. The last gasp never arrived but the discernible slowing of breath was our herald. Krista was 21 this time and her youthful anguish gave way to quiet tears.

I miss her so much.
I miss them both so much.
Tears do not yet come.

A Little Birdie from Down Under

Introducing a sweet little surprise from Miss Robyn from half a world away - Pretty Pretty Peepers arrived on Thursday, Nov. 29th. On the 30th, my batteries died in my digital camera. But today we are up and running again and this sweet little bird happily scoped out the livingroom. Finally she found just the right spot.

Miss Peepers finds a home in the apple rose potpouri

Thank you Miss Robyn for this cheeky little girl. She has already warbled to me that she fully expects to be on display year round.