My Dad’s memorial was last weekend. It was difficult. But it was very nice as well. It was a lovely service and very well attended. I think there were maybe 300 people there, which showed how many people’s lives he touched. There were people there from the alternative newspapers that he started way back when, from his time managing (and more recently as a board member) an alternative, non profit radio station, from his many years working in grant writing, from mentoring others to writing books, to teaching classes. People from Meals on Wheels, where he volunteered as a delivery person for over 20 years. People from my step-mom’s life as a top tier yoga instructor in Oregon. People from the neighborhood. Friends and family. Lots of family.
It was lovely to see my step-mom, Julie, and to spend some time with her. We went to the beautiful Japanese Garden in Portland, hiked in Forest Park, and ate delicious dinners. It was lovely to spend some time with my sister Melissa, shopping for birthday gifts for my niece and nephew, buying a thank you gift for the kind neighbor who took us in when Ted and Maya joined me a few days in (I went up on Thursday morning, and stayed at the house with Julie, who has two big cats. Ted is VERY allergic, so once he and Maya came up on Saturday, we stayed the next couple of nights at the neighbor’s house.) We went up to Lewis and Clark to see the chapel for the memorial. It was so nice to have some time, sad as it was, just with my sisters and step mom, where she gave us a copy of Dad’s arrest documents from Georgia in 1963, where he was arrested for being part of a march for civil rights, as well as copies of his books, etc. Once Ted and Maya joined me on Saturday morning, we spent a bit of time just the three of us. We went downtown and bought a new shirt for Ted, and had a very nice brunch. We then went to my sister’s house to arrange the flowers that my sisters had picked at a U Pick farm while I was picking Ted and Maya up from the airport. Saturday night we went to dinner as a large group, maybe 25 or 30 of us, close friends and family who were in town for the memorial. Sunday was the memorial, which was hard. Monday we went for a hike in Forest Park, then lunch at the house with Julie, then flew home. It was very nice to be home.
The memorial service itself was very nice. In addition to the officiant, Dad’s three daughters each spoke, as did his two best friends. It was hard to get up in front of that many people, but more sad than scary. I started crying pretty much right away, but managed to get through it all. I had ideas of using inflection in my voice and so on, but that did not happen. I just read it and barely got through. I looked down at my hands at one point and saw that my hand was shaking, so I guess I was nervous. Here is what I said.
My dad has been my stalwart, supporting me through tragedy and triumph. There to cheer me on through life’s events, big and small. Life in college. Falling in love with my beloved husband, Ted. Moving across the country. Giving birth to my darling daughter, Maya. Supporting me through the pain of my mother’s death in 2008. Buying a house. Getting a job. Losing a job.
I didn’t know my dad growing up, we have never lived in the same city, or even the same state. We met when I was 21, and he was 44, when he drove from Portland to San Francisco to meet me. Since the day we met in October of 1987, he has been there for me, loving me, being my dad.
If you are here today, celebrating his life, you know the kind of man he was. You know that he has always had a deep sense of justice. You know that he is kind. You know that he worked hard his entire life in support of both justice and kindness. You know that he wanted to have adventures, and enjoy the successes in life. You know that he was grateful for all of the gifts afforded him. You know that he loved his family deeply, and was a devoted father, husband, and friend.
My inheritance, then, is to live my life following his example, in my own ways. To care deeply about issues that are important, and for those that I love. To find ways to work for justice. To be kind whenever possible. (And it is nearly always possible.) To live my life with integrity, to listen to my inner voice, and trust that voice. To give of my heart, my time, and my effort. Most of all, to be grateful for the gifts afforded me, and that he was my much loved Dad.
Michael Wells passed away unexpectedly on Wednesday July 5, 2017 while hiking in the Dolomites in Italy on a long anticipated trip with his wife, Julie Lawrence, who was the love of his life. He lived his life true to his moral compass, leading with compassion and by example. In addition to being a devoted husband, father, and grandfather, he was a grant writer, social activist, consultant, journalist, professor, and business owner. He was a thoughtful, quiet man motivated by his strong beliefs to do the right thing, not seeking public recognition for his actions. Yet, because of his dedication to and deep involvement with many organizations and causes, he lived a public life.
Michael was born August 2, 1943 in Martin’s Ferry, Ohio to Georgia King Wells and Donald Allen Wells. Michael and his parents moved from Ohio to the central valley of California in 1945. He grew up in Modesto, CA in the house that his father built room by room, over several years.
Michael’s strong belief in social justice, civil rights, and equality for all was evident in his lifelong personal actions and community engagement. During his 20’s, he was deeply involved in the Civil Rights Movement. He dropped out of UC Berkeley and traveled to the East Coast, where he joined the Committee for Nonviolent Action. He was arrested for civil disobedience in 1963, along with the rest of the group, while traveling through Georgia in the Quebec to Guantanamo March for Peace and Freedom. He also joined The March on Washington. He was again arrested and jailed in San Francisco, CA for participating in the Sheraton Palace sit-ins.
Committed to non-violence, he refused induction into the army during the Vietnam War, and was granted conscientious objector status. He moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts where he served probation alternative service in lieu of military service.
Michael and his first wife, Mary, moved to Portland Oregon. He was founder and editor of the Willamette Bridge, an alternative newspaper that centered around community organizing, and became the fourth largest newspaper in Oregon. He later founded the Portland Scribe in 1972. With the birth of their twin daughters, Maya and Melissa, Michael made Portland, OR his home for the remainder of his life. His daughters were a source of love, pride and happiness throughout his life.
Throughout the 1970’s and 80’s, he had a varied work life as station manager of KBOO community radio, writing for Willamette Week, fund-raising for the ACLU, grant writing and fund-raising to start Hospice House. It was at this time he completed his college degree and then went on to earn a Master’s Degree in Humanities. In 1986 he began practicing yoga, where he met his future wife, Julie Lawrence.
In 1987 Michael received unexpected and joyous news with the discovery of his third and oldest daughter, Julie Ward Asregadoo, whom he enfolded into his life.
In 1987 he started his own business, Grants Northwest. He took his passion for social justice and turned it into his profession. For the next thirty years he wrote grants for nonprofits, championing causes he cared about. Through his work at Grants Northwest, Michael helped over 100 nonprofit organizations, American Indian tribes and local governments to raise over $150 million. Clients included organizations in the arts, aging, alcohol and drug services, community action, education, the environment, healthcare, housing, women’s services, youth and minority services. On a national level, Michael was a former board member of the Grant Professionals Association (GPA) where he was Treasurer for 4 years and chaired the 2002 national conference in Portland. He was a past board member and president of the Grant Professionals Certification Institute (GPCI) where he was heavily involved in developing the GPC certification process. Michael also taught grant writing for Portland State University’s Public Administration Department. He wrote and published four books on grant writing.
In 1992 Michael married Julie Lawrence in the back yard of their new home. Their 25th wedding anniversary would have been this August. Michael and Julie loved spending time with family and grandkids, dancing and going to theater and dance performances. They also loved to travel — favorite destinations included India, Bali, Machu Picchu, Europe, Thailand, the Galápagos Islands, and the Serengeti as well as several places in the US, Canada, and Mexico.
Michael was a runner for almost 40 years (the name of his Hood to Coast team was the Running Dogs). He was a compulsive reader, tackling several books with varied topics at the same time. Music was central to his life and he filled his home with an amazing variety of music. Michael was an avid volunteer throughout his life as well. He delivered Meals on Wheels for over two decades on the downtown Portland route, was a regular blood donor, served as Board Treasurer for KBOO, and actively volunteered on many political campaigns.
Michael was preceded in death by his parents and his younger brother Robert (Bobby) Wells. He is survived by his wife, Julie Lawrence; daughters and sons-in-laws, Julie Asregadoo (Ted Asregadoo), Melissa Wells (Jason Gibb), Maya Wells (Herb Jahncke); and his grandchildren, Maya Asregadoo, Jack and Sophie Barinaga and Chloe and Justin Jahncke.
(A celebration of his life will be held on September 10, 2017 at 2 pm, Agnes Flanagan Chapel, Lewis and Clark College. In honor of Michael wear something orange.
In lieu of flowers, please consider a donation to the Oregon Community Foundation. www.oregonCF.org
I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.
Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains,—but the best is lost.
The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,-
They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
~ Edna St. Vincent Millay
We suffered a shocking loss this week, when my vibrant and healthy father died from a heart attack while hiking the Italian Alps with my step-mom, Julie. My sister Maya has gone to Italy to be with her while they wait for the necessary paperwork to be completed, so they can send his ashes home. This is a huge loss, confusing and horrible. We, and so many others, will miss him desperately.
Later this month, Ted and Maya will be in the UK, with a brief trip to Paris, visiting Ted’s extended family. His mom and brother are going as well, and aside from the time in Paris, they will be staying with family. I elected to stay home and hold down the fort, take care of the dog, etc. I would like to go to Europe sometime in the not-too-distant future, but I think I’d prefer it to be just the three of us, though I do adore my MIL and BIL. I hope they have a fabulous time.
I was thinking about it, and I realized that I don’t think I’ve ever spent that much time alone before. I mean, I lived with my mom and brother, then with my roommate Troy, then with Ted, then with Ted and Maya. There have been times in the past when I went on vacation with my family (to Portland or Juneau), and Maya came with me, and Ted stayed home. There have been times when Ted went away on vacation or for work with his family, but Maya was here with me then. There have been times when Maya went away, to cheer camp, to visit her cousin in Los Angeles, to New York with my parents after she graduated from High School, but Ted was here with me then. There was that time in Anchorage when my mom was having her surgery, but that was strange and bad.
But this time, I will be home with no Ted and no Maya for about 10 days. I’ll be working, no reason to take any time off. I’ll be walking the dog, which we both enjoy. I may get motivated and clean out my closet and do some other de-cluttering around the house, and then again, I may not. But cooking for one? Dinner every night? I’m not sure about that. One night, Ted’s aunt is going to come over and we will have tuna noodle casserole, which Ted and Maya DO NOT LIKE, nor does Ted’s uncle. We are the only people in the family who love it.
My friend Neva has invited me and Mulder to come to see her new house, out in the valley near Stockton, one weekend day. This same friend Neva is going to come to my town another night and we will have dinner.
So that’s 3 dinners…what about the rest of them? It’s hard to get up a ton of enthusiasm for cooking for one. I’m not sure why this is true, but it is true for me. So, I have a few ideas, and am looking to you for inspiration.
- Baked Potato and Salad (with beets – Ted and Maya hate beets)
- Crab Cakes (Ted and Maya love crab cakes, so we have this sometimes when they are home)
- Eggs and potatoes with fruit (like a potato and veggie hash, with an egg)
- Scallops (Ted likes scallops just fine, but Maya hates them. They’re spendy, so I might just treat myself and buy 3 big scallops and eat that one night)
- Soup – There’s a corn chowder recipe that I like that might be nice. Ted and Maya like it, but it has a good amount of cheese in it, which doesn’t agree with Ted’s stomach as much as it used to.
- Grilled Cheese and salad or fruit
- Tuna melt. I love a good tuna melt, and I make a yummy one with capers that is delicious. (Ted and Maya like this dish, we have it fairly regularly, but it’s so quick and easy, it might be good while they’re gone.)
I’m sure I can repeat a few of these and make it through the time when they’re gone. But what about you? Do you have any great ideas for a dinner for one?
Back in early April, I was home alone, and bringing a newly laundered tablecloth downstairs. I was holding it just so, so that it blocked my line of sight in just the right way that I tripped over Mulder’s bed. He has a thick bed, and my foot caught on it in such a way that I could not pull my knees up and catch myself. Instead, I fell flat on my face, while my arm went above my head. I fell hard. I was bruised and sore.
After a few days, the bruising and most of the pain went away. But my shoulder continued to hurt, badly enough that I couldn’t raise my hand up high, and it woke me up in the middle of the night. So, after a couple of weeks without improvement, off I went to the doctor. I said I wanted to try physical therapy (Maya’s suggestion), and I didn’t want to pay for X-Rays or anything. I have better insurance now than I did back in 2014 when I came down with the stupid arthritis, but of course there are still expenses, and I hate expenses. The doctor said it didn’t sound to her like a torn rotator cuff, and she was OK with sending me to Physical Therapy. So off I went.
I went 3 times a week for about a month, and it helped with range of motion and strength, but the pain was still there, still waking me up at night. My physical therapist said it might be time to see an orthopedist, just in case. Sigh. Off I went, had an X-Ray, and the diagnosis was a tiny fracture in my shoulder. He wanted me to have an MRI, to check for further damage, but for that, you have to wait for insurance approval. The word surgery was suggested, which I did NOT want. Another thought might be a cortisone shot, which would be fine. But I had to wait for the insurance approval. That finally came through, only after I called the office and asked about it, 2 weeks later. Last week was the MRI, my first. If you’ve never had an MRI, it’s fine. Not painful or scary (unless you’re claustrophobic, which thankfully I am not), but it is loud. A few days later, back to the orthopedist to review the MRI results. The good news? No surgery needed! There’s no tear to the rotator cuff, thankfully. Just a bruised bone, which has another name, Bone Marrow Edema. Which means, inflammation in the bone. Sigh. A cortisone shot won’t help. Only time will help. And my inflammatory arthritis might make it take longer than it would for most people, as that is my body fighting with inflammation, and my body takes it seriously.
So, WHEW, no surgery. That’s a huge relief. I’ll keep up with the exercises that my Physical Therapist gave me, and spend some time in the pool this summer. Keep Ibuprofin around, as I do seem to sleep better if I have that.
(Gorgeous photo and recipe found here)
It’s ridiculous how long I’ve been gone, I know. When you’re in the blogging rythem, and you blog often, everything seems like good blogging material. When you’re not, nothing seems like it would be interesting to your readers, so you don’t bother. Don’t bother often enough, and the next thing you know, it’s been over 10 weeks since your last post. Ugh. So I decided that I would just find something in my brain, and bring it here. So what you get is yet another recipe. I’ll try to come up with something NOT recipe related soon.
Ted’s schedule varies a lot, which means that sometimes he works very early in the morning, and sometimes he works late. Tonight he works late, until after 10pm. That means just me and Maya for dinner, which often means ‘breakfast for dinner’, which she and I both love, and Ted does not. I made these blueberry pancakes a few months ago when we were having breakfast for dinner, and they’re delicious. The recipe seemed a little weird to me, like there isn’t enough flour. But there is, they work, and they’re super yummy. Next time you’re in the mood for blueberry pancakes, give this recipe a try.
The Blueberry Pancakes Of Your Dreams
*Makes about 14 pancakes
3 large eggs, separated
1 cup full-fat sour cream
3 tablespoons whole milk
3 tablespoons dark brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 teaspoons baking powder
2/3 cups + 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups fresh blueberries
4 tablespoons butter, for the pan
Maple syrup, for serving
In a large bowl whisk together the egg yolks, sour cream, milk, sugar, salt, vanilla, and baking powder.
In a separate large bowl add flour and blueberries and toss to combine, making sure berries are fully coated in the flour.
Add flour mixture to the wet milk mixture, and stir just to combine; do not over mix! The batter will be thick, so don’t worry if there’s a lot of clumps left.
Add egg whites to a large bowl or the body of a stand mixer. Beat using a handheld mixer or the whisk attachment until the whites begin to form soft peaks.
With a rubber spatula fold egg whites into flour/sour cream mixture, stirring until fully incorporated.
Melt 1 tablespoon of butter in a large skillet over medium heat.
Ladle 1/3 cup scoops of the batter into the skillet, only cooking a few at a time so they don’t blend together.
Cook pancakes until the edges begin to brown and the top of the batter bubbles, then flip and cook for another 1-2 minutes. Repeat for all pancake batter.
Top pancakes with syrup and extra blueberries, or anything else your heart desires! Serve at once.
Maya requested carrot cake for her birthday party. She loves carrot cake and chocolate cake about equally. Last month was her Uncle Steve’s birthday, and as Steve had chocolate cake, she wanted carrot. I thought about buying one at the bakery, but decided the best way to go was going to be homemade, because there is THE family carrot cake recipe.
This is what we call “Mother Thomas’s Carrot Cake”, because it is the carrot cake made by Ted’s Grandmother Thomas. It’s from a cookbook, which I believe was part of a woman’s auxiliary, and that’s all I know. My ‘chili relleno’ recipe is from the same cookbook.
I was reading online about carrot cake, and they seem to call for a LOT of oil. One recipe I read, there was a comment where someone said that they found that sometimes carrot cake tasted oily to them, so they substituted 1/2 cup of buttermilk for 1/3 of the oil, with very good results. I’m game, but also chicken, so I decided to make a test run. On the Wednesday before the party, I made a carrot cake, and frosted it, and we tried it. It’s delicious! Then Ted packed the rest of it up and took it to work with him, and his coworkers scarfed down the rest. He even cut it up nicely so they didn’t have to see that they weren’t getting the entire cake. It got rave reviews at work. These pictures are from her actual birthday party yesterday.
If you need a carrot cake recipe in your life, and trust me, you do, here is a definite winner.
Mother Thomas’s Carrot Cake
1 1/2 cup corn oil *
2 cups sugar
2 cups flour
2 tsp cinnamon
2 tsp soda (clearly they mean baking soda)
2 tsp vanilla
1 tsp salt
1 7-oz box coconut
2 cups shredded carrots
1 cup chopped nuts (I used pecans, which I toasted for a few minutes)
1 can (8 3/4 oz) crushed pineapple and juice (clearly sizes have changed. I only found 8oz cans.)
Sift together dry ingredients, and set aside. In a large mixing bowl, mix together oil and sugar. Add eggs and vanilla. Beat well. Add dry ingredients and mix well. Fold in coconut, carrots, nuts, and pineapple. Pour into lightly greased and floured 10×15-inch pan.**. Bake at 350F for 45 minutes. When cool, frost with Cream Cheese Frosting. Yields 16 to 20 slices.
* I suspect you could try any kind of oil you want. I would suggest a neutral oil, like peanut, but I did see a comment that said, once you try olive oil carrot cake, you’ll never go back. I haven’t tried this. Also, I used 1 cup oil and 1/2 cup buttermilk.
** I wanted a two layer round cake, so I used two 8″ round cake pans instead. I thought it would be ready much faster that way, but I think it turned out to be about 45 minutes. I just kept an eye on it after the 30 minute mark.
Cream Cheese Frosting
2 3-oz pkg cream cheese (again, sizes have changed. I used 1 8oz pkg.)
1 box (1 lb) powdered sugar
1 stick soft margarine (I used butter)
1/2 tsp vanilla
Mix all ingredients with electric mixer until very creamy and smooth.
Back in December of 1997, I worked at a company that had our department holiday party on the Napa Valley Wine Train. I was in HR at the time, and there were 4 or 5 of us, I think, not a big crowd. The Napa Valley Wine Train is a passenger train that goes up Napa Valley for maybe an hour, and then comes back. It stops at one winery on the route, and serves pretty nice food and wine along the way. The train cars are decorated in an old fashioned way, like I imagine they might have been in the old west. You depart from a train depot in Napa, which of course has a gift shop with lots of wine stuff to be had. So that December day, just outside of the gift shop, were some crates that said, Maya. “Wow,” I thought, “Is there a Maya wine?” I went in and asked. The answer is yes, there is a Maya wine, and no, you can’t have any. Turns out it is a botique wine, very difficult to come by.
Well, if you’re at all like me, once someone tells me I can’t have something, I WANT IT MORE. Suddenly I was all about the Maya wine. I remember my BFF, Rosemary, and how when I would go to her house, there was some wine on top of the fridge that never got touched. I asked her about it, and she said her dad had bought each of the kids a bottle from the year they were born, and was saving it until they were old enough to drink it. Well, you can only imagine how wine stored on top of the fridge turned out to be (not good), but I liked the idea. And here was a wine that shared my daughter’s name! I MUST BUY SOME.
So, I started calling around. I called the vineyard, but they didn’t have any to sell. I called several small, independent wine stores, and got a resounding NO everywhere I called. One man laughed in my face (Well, in my ear, as I was on the phone). One man told me that they SOMETIMES got a case, but that the owner of the store gave or sold the bottles to his friends, and customers never got any. I had no idea there was wine that was difficult to procure. I’m a Safeway wine shopper.
Finally, I got lucky. I called a local wine store and told him my story. My daughter is Maya, and born in 1996. I want a bottle of 1996 Maya wine to toast her with on her 21st birthday. He said, “Most of the people who come in looking for that wine are posers wanting to show off for their friends. You’re the first down to earth person I’ve come across on this search. If I get any in the store, I will call you.” And he did. I don’t remember what year it was, probably 1999 at this point, but he called me and told me my wine was there. I was thrilled. I rushed to the store and bought it…the only time in my life I’ve paid that much for a bottle of wine (I think it was about $130, about 10x what I usually pay). It has been carefully stored in Ted’s brother’s wine fridge ever since, safe and sound.
Until Saturday. Saturday, we will celebrate my darling Maya’s 21st birthday with lamb curry, carrot cake, and a glass of Maya wine. I think there are 9 of us, so no one will get a lot, but we will toast to her health, and she can keep the bottle as a memento to her mother’s obsessive personality.
I hope it’s not corked.
As the Women’s March came nearer, I felt more sure that I wanted to participate. But which one? We live in a small city (bigger than a town! Pop around 60k) in a very densely populated area, and there were two fairly large ones just a short BART (our local transit) ride away. So, Oakland or San Francisco? Both would be great. I still hadn’t decided, when Ted’s mom called and asked if we wanted to go to the one right here in our town. OK, I’m in. Easier than getting on BART even, and a shorter walk (Ted’s mom had hip surgery this summer, and I have arthritis that affects my feet somewhat unpredictably, so this sounded wise to me). I thought we would get a couple of hundred people at the most, waving at passing cars and so on, like most of the protests that we get in our city. Boy, was I wrong. Ted, Maya, his mom, and I went downtown, and we parked several blocks away. It turned out there were thousands of people there! Estimates say it may have been as many as 10,000 people, carrying signs, cheering each other on, chanting slogans, enjoying the community of being around like minded folks. We saw one of the moms from Maya’s old Girl Scout troop there, as well as the principal of her elementary school. I know a coworker of mine from 20 years ago was there. It was supposed to be small, staying on the sidewalks and marching the downtown area. But so many people showed up that they took over the streets. Our local police were extremely helpful in getting people around and diverting traffic. Overall it was a GREAT experience. It was also great to know that my dad and step mom, who were in Santa Barbara for the weekend, were marching there. My sisters and their families were marching in Portland. Later I looked online, and saw that 2,000 people marched in Fairbanks, Alaska! I relatively small town in a VERY red state, and it was 15 below zero! I have seldom felt so encouraged. It was a great day.
We must keep that spirit, and remember that this is a fight worth having. Yesterday, Trump issued an order banning Muslims from 7 countries from entering the United States. Today, a judge stayed that order, with help from the ACLU. We must resist and stay strong. Power to the people!
It’s been a busy time, since last I stopped by here. The entire month of December is gone, and we’re a week into a New Year. So what’s going on?
I went to Portland for a long weekend in early December. It was my step-mom’s 70th birthday, and I went up to help her celebrate. Ted didn’t come with me, mostly because of his cat allergies, which means he can’t come inside (or at least not for long) most of the houses for our family. That can work fine in summer, we sleep at a hotel or house sit for neighbors, and we eat dinner in my parents’ back yard. That wouldn’t work this time, as it was snow and ice everywhere. Maya didn’t come with me, because while the party was on Dec 10th, her finals started Dec 12th, so she had to be here to study. So it was me alone. While there, I realized that I believe the only other time I’ve gone to Portland without Ted and/or Maya, it was January of 1988, when I went up to meet my sisters for the first time. They were 17 years old and in high school. I’m pretty sure that Ted came with me on my trips after that, and there were times when Maya and I went without him (cat issues, or work), or the three of us went. It was nice in a way, though I did miss them. I flew up on Thursday, and on Friday my dad and I went down the hill from the house to help get ready for the party. A neighbor, who has parties and fundraisers in her house often, offered the use of her home for the party, which was great. Dad and Julie live on a VERY steep hill, which is absolutely no fun when it is covered in ice. So to get down the hill can be tricky. We had walking poles, but it was so steep, we decided to slide down the hill on a piece of cardboard. That sounds more fun than it was. The ice was thin, and not at all smooth, and we felt every bump and rock on the way down. The cardboard shredded by the time we got to the bottom of the hill. My dad took this picture of me when I’m part way down. At this point, I’m frustrated, and thinking it would have been more fun to stay in the house with a cup of hot chocolate or something. This little puppy ran out to say hello and urge me on. It worked, the puppy was SO cute, it cheered me right up. The rest of the way to the house was still slippery, but we had our poles, and it wasn’t steep, so we were fine.
I spent that evening with my sister and her husband, which was really great. They married in March, and we went up to celebrate in September. We’ve met her husband a couple of times, but this was the first time I got to spend time with just Melissa and Jason, and it was really nice to get to know him better. Saturday, Melissa and I did some Christmas shopping, and had lunch with Jason and some friends. Saturday night was the party, which was great, the ice had melted and everything was lovely. Then Sunday I came home. It was a fun trip.
What else…well, I caught a stupid cold. We had our annual baking day, which was fun, and I put together a box of cookies to bring to my friend Trudy. I used to deliver Meals on Wheels to her, but she went off of the route last year, when she moved from her home to an assisted living facility. I brought them to her on the Sunday before Christmas, and on Monday realized I was sick with a cold. Damn. It was a crummy head cold, which then went into my chest. I didn’t deliver Meals on Wheels that week, because I felt horrid, and also I worried about getting the clients on my route sick. I went again the Thursday after Christmas, and I asked another woman on my route, Dana, if she had heard how Trudy was doing. Trudy passed away the Tuesday after Christmas. Crap. I hope to hell I didn’t give her my cold. She was 101, and when I saw her last, she was not doing well. Not much appetite, not dressed, just taking it easy. Not really like herself. I am going to miss her, she was a real character and such a sweet woman.
Last weekend was my birthday, and it was beautiful weather, so Ted, Maya, Mulder, and I went to Pescadero, which is a little town at the coast between San Francisco and Santa Cruz. They have a bakery there that sells some amazing bread with artichoke hearts baked inside. So we ate delicious artichoke bread, then went to the beach to smell the salt water. It was a perfect day, and when we got home and cleaned up, we got dressed and went out for a delicious birthday dinner. Here’s Mulder at the beach.
Now here we are, it’s a rainy Sunday afternoon. We’ve been watching the screeners that Ted gets for being part of the SAG-AFTRA Union. We’ve seen Lion, which we loved, and Fences, which was very good, and I liked it more than Ted did. We have a couple of others that we haven’t watched yet. Manchester by the Sea, Jackie, and likely one or two others that I’ve forgotten. We’re supposed to get La La Land, but it hasn’t happened yet. We’re also watching the new One Day at a Time reboot on Netflix, which we are really enjoying. Mostly it’s been a good winter so far, but I could have done without losing Trudy or getting sick. Next weekend we bury my Grandma’s remains, and my mom’s as well. My Grandma was cremated, and wanted to be buried in the grave with her first husband, my Grandpa Roland, who died when my mom was 5. We are going to bury my mom’s remains in with them, as well as a bit of my Uncle Forrest’s remains, and a picture of their baby Roland, who died a few weeks after birth. There’s good and bad to that. I miss my Grandma, and it’s going to be sad. I miss my mom, and that’s going to be sad, too. I miss my uncle. Blech, it all sucks. But on the other hand, 4 of the 6 cousins will be there, including my brother Richard, who I don’t see often, since he lives in Alaska. I’m looking forward to seeing him.
That’s it for now. Hoping you’re well.
This is my much loved Grandma Ward, with her first husband, Roland, back in 1941.
Grandma was born in Southern California but moved to the Central Valley near Modesto when she was a young girl. She remembered riding the bus with the high school kids when she was in Kindergarten, because her parents didn’t want her taking the bus the other Kindergarteners took, as it was on the Highway and they didn’t think that was safe. So she rode with the big kids. The step to get on the bus was too high for her to reach, so a high schooler would lift her up. Kindergarten was 1/2 day, and High School was full day, so she waited outside the school for 3 hours or so until the big kids got out. All alone. Can you imagine anything like that today? Her parents would be in jail for neglect.
She fell in love with my Grandfather Roland when she was in High School, on a date with another boy. I guess that boy was friends with Roland, and they double dated. They didn’t care a bit for the others they were with, and Roland asked her out the next day. A few months later, they eloped. They had to elope, because he was older (27 to her 18) and divorced. The older her family could have dealt with, but the divorced would have been a deal breaker. So they chartered a little airplane that flew them to Carson City, Nevada, and they got married. They came home and she went to school and didn’t tell anyone until after graduation. Her parents couldn’t do much with her, but they didn’t let her younger sister Florence out of their sight for about 2 years, and she wasn’t allowed to date, which she said was fine with her because she was too shy anyway and it gave her an excuse.
Roland worked in construction, and he and my Granmda (Ginny) lived in a little trailer that was hitched to the back of their car. They drove up and down the valley following work, and were very happy. My mom came along about a year later, and made them even happier. Ginny felt like my mom was her little doll to play with, and had a great time being a mom. They had another baby, a boy, two years later, but baby Roland was very ill, and never came home from the hospital. He lived for several months, but kept getting sick before he could be released. When he died, they were devistated. They had another baby, another boy, a couple of years later. This baby was my Uncle Forrest, and all was well, they were again very happy and loving life with the two little children. I think they had an apartment now. One day, Grandpa Roland stepped on a nail while at work. He wasn’t terribly worried because he had had a tetanus shot. But the tetanus shot turned out to be ineffective, likely expired when given to him, and he died quite suddenly. He complained of a headache at breakfast, and was dead before lunch. My Grandma was left with a high school education, a 5 year old, a baby, and a broken heart. They had no life insurance, because they had cancelled the policy because it was too expensive.
Grandma had to find work, and couldn’t keep her kids with her. So my mom went to a convent, and my uncle to a foster home. Grandma and Aunt Flo had an apartment together, and Grandma’s small wages went to pay for the convent and the foster home, plus of course food and rent and so on. This went on for a couple of years, until my Grandma met my Grandpa, who fell in love with her and her kids, and the next thing you know, they were married. My Grandpa was in sales for a large printing company, and they sent him around the country. They lived in Puerto Rico, which is where my Aunt Colleen was born. They lived in Texas and New Mexico and Colorado, and eventually back in California. My mom and Grandpa did NOT get along (he was abusive in many ways) and she left to go live with her Great Aunt Julia in Modesto, which is where she finished high school, and where she met my dad.
My grandfather lost his job at the printing company, I believe because they thought he was too old (he was in his 50s) and they moved to Stockton, where he opened his own company, taking most of his clients with him. They lived there the rest of their lives. My grandfather died in 1988, and my Great Aunt Flo moved in with my Grandma. Aunt Flo’s husband had died quite awhile before. She had taken care of her parents until they died, then helped Grandma take care of Grandpa, and now they were living together.
These last few years, Grandma has not been well. She blames it on having had four children, while Aunt Flo’s kids are step kids, so of course she was healthier. The reality is a combination of factors, including a 60+ year smoking habit, dieting every day from about the age of 12, breaking her hip at the age of 40, and scoliosis in her spine, which as she aged and her spine compressed, became very painful. Aunt Flo has been her nurse and caretaker, as well as her sister and best friend.
When we moved back to California from Alaska when I was 9, Richard and I came first, my mom and our dog (Samantha) came a couple of weeks later. Grandma and Grandpa had downsized to a mobile home park at that time, and it had a swimming pool. Grandma would take us swimming every afternoon, and we would watch cartoons on cable TV (which we hadn’t had in Alaska) before dinner. It was a lot of fun and they spoiled us. They decided that mobile home living wasn’t for them, so they bought a house, which was 2 blocks from our place. I would spend the night at their house sometimes, I spent a week there for Spring Break (called Easter Vacation back then), and my Grandpa would make me apple turnovers for breakfast. When my mom decided we were vegetarian, I would go over there for dinner and Grandma would make me pork chops. When I had swimming and karate lessons at the Y after school, my Grandma would come pick me up and bring me to her house until my mom got home. We were pen pals, which started when we lived in Alaska, and lasted until a couple of years ago when she broke her wrist, plus her eyes weren’t what they once were.
When Ted and I got engaged and moved in together, I worried that she would be angry and scold me. She had asked me to promise never to do such a thing a few years before, when Richard was living with a girlfriend. I wrote to her and told her my news, and asked for her understanding. She wrote back that she had had so little time with my Grandpa Roland, and she thought we should all take our happiness where and when we could. She wasn’t thrilled, but she was OK with it.
Grandma was so strong. She outlived two husbands and all four of her children. She had many adventures and lived a good life.
She has always been a fierce ally, always on her grandchildren’s side, always wanting the best for us, always loving us. My grandma died last Saturday, and I am going to miss her terribly. I’m glad she’s not suffering anymore, but I will miss our trips to Red Lobster and our visits.
These were supposed to be our victory cookies, based on a recipe from the 1992 Presidential election, when Hillary Clinton made a comment on the Today show that she supposed she could have stayed home and baked cookies, but instead she continued her law career. She was slammed, with the assumption being that she held contempt for stay-at-home moms, that she thought their life was simply baking cookies and drinking tea. She quickly fell in line, doing the politically expedient thing and entering a cookie recipe in the Family Circle baking contest, a First Lady challange that survives to this day.
I decided it would be symbolic of how far we’ve come to bake a batch of her cookie recipe. I baked some on Saturday and sent them to my Grandma and Great Aunt, who were SO EXCITED about this victory. I baked the rest for us yesterday. I made one small change, in that I used butter instead of shortening. I’m not enough of a baker to know how the shortening ones would have turned out, but I looked at both oatmeal and chocolate chip cookie recipes, and both seemed to generally call for butter.
And now, here we are. President Trump. It sticks in my throat and gave me nightmares last night. I cannot believe we are here. I cannot believe our next President will be a man with zero political experience, who denies climate change in the face of all evidence, who says and does the things he says and does. It is a bitter pill to swallow.
Anyway, since I had it ready to post yesterday, here is Hillary Clinton’s recipe.
- 1 1/2 cups unsifted all-purpose flour
- 1 tsp salt
- 1 tsp baking soda
- 1 cup solid vegetable shortening (I used butter)
- 1 cup firmly packed light brown sugar (I used dark because we had it)
- 1/2 cup granulated sugar
- 1 tsp vanilla
- 2 eggs
- 2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
- 12 oz semisweet chocolate chips
- Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease baking sheets (I used parchment paper instead, so the cookies wouldn’t spread as much.
- Combine flour, salt, and baking soda in a bowl.
- Beat together shortening (butter, room temperature), sugars, and vanilla in a large bowl with an electric mixer until creamy. Add eggs, beating until light and fluffy. Gradually beat in flour mixture and rolled Oates. Stir in chocolate chips. (Add some nuts if you’re baking for Grandma and Aunt Flo, omit if you’re baking for Ted and Maya. Life is a little complicated sometimes.)
- Drop batter by well-rounded teaspoonfuls onto baking sheets. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes or until golden.
- Cool cookies on sheets for 2 minutes. Remove to wire rack to cool completely.
Yield: 7 1/2 dozen cookies
* The Almond Joy is Maya’s superstitiouss move…she enjoyed an Almond Joy for Obama’s win in ’08
I had a dream last night (or was it a vision?) of a cereal box with Trump’s picture on it. I know, what a horrid idea. I told Ted, and he went and found this picture, likely in order to torture me.
I mentioned it on Facebook, (which is where Ted put the picture), and my FB and prior bloggy friend V-Grrrl said that her nephew (founder of Air B&B) had presidential cereals back in 2008. So I did a search for Presidential Cereals, and found these. The Obama Os and Cap’n McCain’s are VGrrrl’s nephew’s.
Good thing these aren’t around all the time. I for one do not want to see politicians in the cereal aisle?
Do you have a favorite? I’d try Clinton Crunch.
Maybe I should say something about the election that’s coming up, but I can’t. I’m sick of the whole thing. I wish that Clinton had a more worthy adversary. I want her to win, but I’d rather it be on her own merits, not because her opponent is such an asshole.
We went to Portland a couple of weeks ago for a ‘drive by visit’. Maya is in school, Ted and I don’t have a lot of vacation time saved up, so we flew up Friday night, spent Saturday with family, flew home Sunday morning. My sister got married back in March, a VERY small ceremony, and this was the party to celebrate. It was so lovely to see everyone, but again it reminded us that we are living far from my family, and the kids are growing up without our frequently getting to see them.
Back when I worked in a cubicle farm, I had a clock radio/iPod docking station, because I wanted to listen to my iPod at work. When I started working from home, I brought it home and put it next to my bed. The clock sucked for being next to my bed. I hated the backlit display, SO bright, and it was hard to read the numbers at night. At some point along the way, the volume stopped working well. It was hard to get it to a decent volume. Too loud, or too quiet. I had no idea how to set the alarm on the thing. For some reason, inertia mostly, I kept it for years. Finally, I decided that I had had enough, and I went to the drug store and bought myself a new clock radio to keep by my bed. It’s not the best ever, but it has a dark face with red numbers, very easy to read at night. It was still a bit more bright than I wanted, so I bought an interesting product to dim it. It’s black film that clings to the front of the clock. You can’t even see the numbers during the day, but I don’t care about that. What I like is that it’s dark in our room at night, and I can easily read the numbers. I haven’t tried setting the alarm yet, so we’ll have to see how that works.
Monday was Canadian Thanksgiving. Since Ted was born in Canada (though they came to the U.S. when he was just over a year old), I like to make Thanksgiving dinner for the three of us. Often I make a turkey breast, but this year I wanted leftovers, so I made a small turkey, about 10lbs. There was enough that Monday night we had Thanksgiving dinner, Tuesday we had turkey chili, Wednesday we had leftovers, Thursday we had turkey pot pie. Friday I was looking in the fridge, and we still have yams, cranberry sauce, and gravy, but no more turkey. So I decided to buy a turkey breast, and we would have Thanksgiving dinner part 2. When I told Ted, he said he would rather have pizza, he’s a little tired of turkey. So pizza it was. I’d already bought the turkey breast, so we will be having that along with the yams and so on, probably tonight.
Are you a fan of the Gilmore Girls? I’m a fan, and I’ve been watching the series again on Netflix in anticipation of the new season coming out after Thanksgiving. If you’ve not been paying attention, it’s going to be 4 episodes, I believe 90 minutes each. Each episode will be a different season, so they will take place over the course of one year. There’s been a lot of speculation as to what has changed over the almost 10 years since the series ended. One change is that the actor who played the father, Ed Hermann, has died in the interim, so there will be no Richard Gilmore. I’m sad about that. I loved him and Emily best for the whole show.
Puppy Boy was super sick last week. We have to assume that he ate something he shouldn’t have, or licked up something nasty off the ground, but we don’t know exactly. He has a habit of barfing. Not sure why, but he does. Maybe he has an acid prone stomach. Generally we give him a Pepcid AC every morning, and that takes care of it. But last week, he started barfing and couldn’t stop. He threw up all over the house, with us following close behind with the carpet cleaner, until it had been a couple of hours and he was just puking foam. We decided enough was enough, and took him to the vet. He threw up in the car on the way there, and at the vet’s as well. The vet said it could be that he ate something dangerous, or it could be obstructed bowels, or who knows. Blood work and x-rays were next, followed by an IV of liquids and anti-nausea meds. He stopped barfing. The vet said to take him home, and if he was OK in the morning, no need to come back. If he threw up again in the morning, we had to bring him in again. There was something on the x-Ray that was PROBABLY nothing, but if he was still barfing the next morning, we should check into it. Morning came, he drank some water, and barfed it up. Back to the vet for us. More x-rays. More IV. More meds. The x-Ray was again inconclusive, but the spot that the vet worried about was gone. We brought him home, and then the diarrhea started. That went on much of Friday, thankfully all in the yard, none at home. Saturday he was a little better. Sunday he seemed almost back to his regular self, and every day got a little better until now he’s fine. The only thing that’s bothering him at all now is that while he was sick, he was eating chicken and rice, and now it’s all gone and it’s back to kibble. So, we never found out exactly what was wrong, except that the blood work didn’t show anything like poison, and the x-rays didn’t show anything too crazy. Our puppy boy is fine. Our bank account is not.