Christmas Images

We've been having a fun and busy time around here...how about you?  Here are some Christmas images I captured to share... First, new kitten Fuzzy lounges by the gifts in the morning. (New since August, it's a relative term.) 

Some of my favorite ornaments: the little wooden nurse Nana gave me way back when I first became a nurse; the new baby boy ornament now 16 years old; the bunny is most special because it was one of a set from my son...our very good friend was shopping with us and she bought them for him to give me--totally without me knowing. What a great surprise!

 A Hallmark Reindeer, a mitten and a new white star (I love stars on the tree).

The glass Santa was one of the first ornaments I purchased for our first Christmas tree way back when, along with the basket of grapes; also here are the owl and another bunny from the set.

Here is our tree topper...a bow I made a couple of years ago, along with two special angels near the top. Most precious to me, though, are the blown cobalt glass ornaments (deep blue balls) which were from my grandmother's house. I found them in her box of ornaments when we were cleaning out her home. They were in a little tin, packed in tissue by themselves.  I don't know how old they are but I love them.

The candy cane is a salt dough project that I did with my son about 10 years ago.

Here are more that I love: the cardinals are from my son; the guitar is his (he loves to play his guitar); the Santa is another of the first ornaments...the amazing glass drop to Santa's left is the second special surprise my son gave me the year we shopped with our friend.

Here's the partridge and chipmunk from the special set; the seashell wreath was made by Nana, and the snowflake was another project my son and I did when he was little.

A Christmas tree is really a history of our lives, isn't it?

Have a comment? Advice? Random observation? I'd love to hear it. Click "COMMENTS" just below.

Christmas is Coming...

I really like to prepare for Christmas--in the spirit of Advent, not the spirit of self indulgence.  Advent is preparation, a season of preparing for the arrival of the Christ child.  Preparing one's heart for the miracle, which is far more important than preparing for celebration of the holiday with family and friends.  I've barely had time for either this year, though.

As of today, the manger scene is up...we put it in a different place this year, moving the console table from behind the sofa to a central wall in the living room.  And I finally did something I've thought about for years: I hung the big gold star from the ceiling by a gold thread.  I like it.  I found the star years ago at some hand-craft-y kind of place and I've kept it with the manger pieces, usually setting it out nearby.  I'm glad it's finally hanging.

Looking at the first photo, it seems cold and distant somehow. Maybe these show it better:

This last photo was taken after my son did a little rearranging. As he moved the animals around, he told me that the camel and donkey couldn't see the baby Jesus (so he positioned each of the animals with a clear veiw of Jesus).  Just another reason I love him so much!

We also have a Christmas tree and have put it up, but no lights or decorations yet.  At least we have that fresh evergreen smell in the house.  We're definitely decorating it on Wednesday, so it will be ready in time for Santa.

As I was "fluffing" out the branches and getting ready to start the lights, I found this tiny, sweet little bird's nest hidden near the top of the tree. (I'm standing on the stepstool to take the picture below.) I would never have seen it if I hadn't felt it first. Makes it seem all the more natural and outdoorsy.  Do you save something like that after the season?

That's what we have as of December 21.  But, although I haven't been able to spend a lot of time decorating for Christmas, I am prepared.  Advent is nearly over and the anticipation is in my heart. What's important to me is to be and show and appreciate, not to do and stress over and achieve Christmas.  These last couple of Christmases I've really learned a lot about that, so the outward preparations are far more balanced and enjoyable than ever. 

Have a comment? Advice? Random observation? I'd love to hear it. Click "COMMENTS" just below.

Thanksgiving

When I caught up on my blog reading yesterday it was good to see how many of my fellow bloggers had posted on Thanksgiving and what they were thankful for. So, although late, here are my Thanksgiving thoughts.

Ok, so I've been staring at the screen not knowing what to write. My first impulses were to list my son and his successes, my husband and our relationship, my siblings and our families, our grandchildren, my job, my church, the cats, our health....our many material things, our ability to travel...the beauty of nature around us, this country.....but then came the doubts. I am deeply thankful for all of these things, definitely, but...

I'm not sure I "believe in" Thanksgiving so much...that's the problem. Of course I believe in thanking God for our very lives and all of the blessings he gives us, it's not that. But one day per year? And all of the trouble and strife we go through to prepare and/or attend a huge feast? And the thanking comes when, at the prayer before we dive into the food? To be sure, I absolutely love getting together with family members and visiting and catching up and renewing our relationships...which seems to happen only over the holidays anymore. (I think I'm seeing a problem here.)

Typically we would travel to visit relatives on my side or host a feast here, for hubby's side of the family, but this year was different. Our Dear Aunt has passed (and those relatives went to visit their other family members), it was my son's year with his father, and we wanted to put our thankfulness into action by helping others.

This year we volunteered for Meals on Wheels and delivered Thanksgiving meals to homebound seniors. Thanks to the exceptionally well-run program, it was so easy to join in and help. The program worked like a well-oiled machine: we were signed in, given information, picked up the hot Thanksgiving meal with accompaniments, received the cleverly packaged meal for Friday (to go in the 'fridge) and were out on the road in no time. The people who run the program were cheerful, helpful--just all-around great.

I didn't know what to expect, either from the people or myself. I've been reading about motivation for serving in various ministries, and of course the GHMP I attended addressed such issues as well. One thing I knew was that feeling self-satisfied or being self-congratulatory ("aren't we great for volunteering on the holiday") was wrong. I was sure such motives were not my reason for being there. As always, God was there with a lesson.

The first two deliveries were to people who lived in trailers from the 1970's, people who were hit hard by life, from what I could observe. They accepted their meals with no ceremony and barely a word. Our hearty "Happy Thanksgiving!" had been met with little response.

It was then, after these two deliveries, that it struck me that I must have been hoping to get some worldly thanks. My motives were not so pure as I had hoped. The lesson hit hard. Despite my desire to serve unselfishly and my awareness of worldly motives, they were still there. Our remaining deliveries were quite different, and we met some dear folks who were warm and talkative, but the lesson remains. I'm sure certain other facets of that lesson will be revealed over time as well.

We finished our deliveries in the cold rain, came home and put a beautiful turkey breast in the oven. Together, we made cranberries, apple and pumpkin pies, stuffing, sweet potatoes, cole slaw and corn. It was a time of togetherness and a time to reflect. I called my son and had a nice talk with him; for that I was also thankful.

So, I guess I've gone a bit far afield of where I began this post. I am thankful for what God has given me, but should that thankfulness perhaps translate into more action? Are we truly grateful or do we maybe feel, just a little bit, as though we've "earned" it? How do we express our thankfulness, and how often? Is once a year enough?
  
Have a comment? Advice? Random observation? I'd love to hear it. Click "COMMENTS" just below.

Another Big Milestone

This morning marked another big milepost in the life of a person.  My son, 16 and a half years old, left the house on the first morning of his first "real" job.  I don't know if I mentioned that this past summer he tried to get a job in the nearby beach resort community, but the economy was so bad that adults and college students had already flooded the market.  (The newspaper reported that most of the summer positions for teens had been taken by adults who would normally have been working full time elsewhere, and college students who previously would have "moved on" had returned to their beach jobs due to lack of work elsewhere.  Like the rest of the economy, this was the worst summer employment market in many years.)

Anyway, this morning was a big morning.  He's working "in retail" at a major brand name footwear/sports clothing outlet.  He was SO excited when he got the job!  He texted me as soon as he left the interview and I called him right back; I heard triumph in his voice as he told me about the interview, and he answered "Great!" when I asked him how it felt to be a working man.
  
This morning he was up bright and early, ready to go.  I got up to see him off, and he was enthusiastic about starting.  I felt like I should have been taking his picture, like that morning not so long ago when he got on the bus for his first day of kindergarten.  He laughed when I mentioned it.

Now, as I finish this post, he has returned from his first day, still happy.  He did well and I'm quite proud.  He has an easy way with people and described to me how he approached customers and talked and joked with them, helped them out and suggested socks and hats.  I think he has a knack for sales!

The boss is apparently quite happy with him and his "sales percentage" was surprisingly good, particularly for his first day. Since I've never worked in retail, I didn't know quite what that meant but after he explained it to me I was impressed! (It has to do with the number of items each customer buys.) He's also already "advanced" from being temporary Black Friday help to being "seasonal" which means he will continue to work through Christmas or New Years' I think. (He's not sure what it means exactly.) However, this son of mine has already set his sights on becoming permanent; he intends to do such a good job that they'll never lay him off.  Go him!

It's hard to say precisely what about this makes me so happy...his enthusiasm, his change from teen-lie-on-the-couch to good worker, his determination to do not just "ok" but excellently well, his new independence, his maturity, his obvious "people" skills, or all of the above, but I am just thrilled with him. Hope you can forgive me for bragging so much!! 

Have a comment? Advice? Random observation? I'd love to hear it. Click "COMMENTS" just below.

Zeb the Cat

There was once a righteous man named Job.  He followed the Law and in God's eyes had done nothing wrong.  But the accuser challenged God, saying Job only obeyed the Law because God had been so generous with his blessings.  So God took away everything--Job's children, livestock, land, home, health and wealth--and left Job sitting in the dust, dressed only in burlap and covered in sores.

Most of Job's friends shunned him, some mocked him, and those who would speak to him insisted that he repent of whatever sin he had committed, so that God would bless him once again.  Job cursed the day he was born and pleaded with God to help him.  As time went on, Job asked God why this happened to him, but he never cursed or turned away from God.  Job also didn't listen to his friends, who were absolutely certain in their idea of God's justice: only the wicked will suffer, the righteous will prosper.  But Job knows he is not wicked; he has always helped the poor, always sheltered the strangers and aided the widows.  To confess wrongly would be deceit. 

Eventually, he questions God: what did I do? If I have sinned against you, let me see the indictment! Job wonders about justice--why did this happen to him, when he has lived a righteous life?

So our dear aunt, 92 years young, never able to have children herself, volunteer superintendent of Sunday School in her church for decades, loved by all...is diagnosed with brain cancer. She accepts this and makes the difficult decision to forgo treatment in favor of spending her last month to two months at home with her dear cat Zeb, her companion of 12 years.  She leaves the ICU and is home for one week.

Then Zeb stops eating, and on the third day the visiting vet comes to her home and finds a large tumor....and then Zeb is gone.  Dear aunt cries more for Zeb than she did for herself.  We cry for our dear aunt.

Finally God answers.  Are you all-powerful?  Do you know everything?  I created the earth and all things in it.  I gave life and strength to all of the creatures you can name.  I know the time for everything and the places for birth and death.   How dare you question my justice!  (And by the way, your friends gave bad counsel, you did nothing whatsoever wrong.)  And Job humbly answers:  You are truly all powerful.  I spoke of things I did not understand; I am so ashamed.  I will repent in dust and ashes and respect the Lord.

Another explanation?

Too Busy to Blog

So sorry I have not posted in such a long time! And, this will only be a very brief update to let you know I haven't forgotten all about blogging!

Right after Easter, as described in my previous post, our 92 year old aunt was hospitalized...and within days she was diagnosed with a brain tumor--almost definitely cancer.  We got her home to her cat, where she most wanted to be, and have done medical visits, hospice and the like.  Faced with a very poor prognosis and the stress and difficulty of treatment, she has opted to forgo aggressive treatment and even biopsy. (Doctors guessed she has maybe 2 months to live.)  We support her choice, which seemed difficult to make, and we understand her reasons also.  Her attitude, which is an outward demonstration of her faith, has been the most amazing thing in all of this.  I've done some thinking about how I would feel, what I would think, want, and need if I were in her shoes.  It's hard.

The cat trapping worked, but I have no new kitty at home.  More on that another time.

Also, due to our aunt's illness, we will be having houseguests, and instead of leaving the extra bedroom all dark and ugly, we've decided to finally get it spruced up!  The painting is almost done, so look for some pictures of the redecorating here on some future date (assuming we're happy with the results, of course.)

There's always a whole lot going on at work but last week was especially busy, as my senior was in trial and I covered everything here....which leaves this week for getting my own tasks caught up. 

But most importantly, my only son's birthday is almost here!!  He will be 16 tomorrow, and when his turn comes around in driving class at school, he will be empowered to drive an automobile.  A true milestone in the life of a semi-rural teen, where cars mean freedom!  Since he doesn't read this blog, I will also reveal that for his birthday, we got him tickets to see one of his favorite bands up in the city.  Hope he's thrilled!

With that, my free time is up (nice visiting with you) and I must go back to one or all of the big matters in life!

Always a Shard of Good

I've puzzled over this post a bit.  Write about the sad or the little bit of happy?  In effect, they're so intertwined that the larger story is necessary in order to tell about my little ray of hope in the midst of it.
  
We had a nice Easter, which to me means being in church and singing those familiar, much-loved hymns and all that.  It was glorious as always, and we were greeted by dozens of friends there, all sharing in the joy.  Hubby's elderly aunt was visiting with us, and although she's nearly deaf she enjoyed the service too.

After a breakfast of bagels and coffee, they napped while I made our Easter dinner--I glazed and cloved the ham, made the potato salad out of fresh red-skinned potatoes and dill, prepared the pseudo-cheesecake (Jello-brand) and the asparagus.  We sat down just after 5:00, and after a prayer and about 2 bites of dinner, everything went south.

I was concerned right away when hubby's dear aunt couldn't seem to use her fork.  Then she couldn't speak--although trying, she stuttered some first letters but could form no words.  I moved to help her, and within minutes she had a seizure.  We eased her to the carpet....she awoke but still couldn't speak.  Eventually the ambulance came and off to the hospital.  It wasn't the way we expected to be spending Easter evening!

But the strangest thing happened in the several minutes between when the paramedics arrived (around here, medics work with the local volunteer ambulances, driving their own truck that does not transport patients) and when the ambulance arrived.  The competent young medics came in with their kits, our aunt was awake and stable, and in that lull, my husband called to me to look out the door.  I was charmed and amazed!

One of the white Manx cats...the one I called "brother" in the pictures here...was standing on the porch, his front paws on the door threshhold, staring right through the windowpane into the dining room!  As we looked at him, he peered in through the glass, moving his head back and forth, apparently to see better what was going on!  And he did this was with the paramedic truck sitting right outside and the two medics just having walked by him into the house.  He must not be that afraid of people after all!

I looked back after a few seconds to check on hubby's aunt, the ambulance people arrived, and "brother" took off at some point.  But how about that!!  I've had such a special feeling about those cats...just a sense that they are remarkable creatures.  Now I have a renewed feeling that these two Manxes are more than just a couple of strays.  They're something special, and Brother's interest--and (what I probably exaggerate into) concern for what happened inside the house just makes me think even more that they're meant to join our family!   

P.S.:  Hubby's aunt was admitted to the hospital and has not had another major event since Easter, and the Manx has been around for dinner as usual every night since then.

Quick Note re: Guatemala

For several months I looked for other loans on Kiva for entrepreneurs in Guatemala, but there was a bit of a lull in originations there. (The window at the right links to Kiva's homepage where you can search by country.) I found one last month and tonight I found that there are numerous opportunities to lend to individuals and small groups in Guatemala. I now have three loans out. How could I resist helping those who gave us our beautiful gem?


(It's whipped cream....and that's her mom, not me!)


If you have any interest at all, please take a look at Kiva.com and see if any of the stories speak to you. Only takes $25 to start, and you get the money back!

Christmas

Christmas. It brings many things. It's not at all like what we're shown on TV and in movies, though...but very little in life is.

We had some fun here, with family and good food. On Christmas eve we (hubby and his aunt, celebrating her 92nd Christmas) spent the evening wrapping and then enjoying the "Seven Fishes" together. I made appetizers of mini crab cakes and calamari salad, followed by cioppino with shellfish and shrimp and fish. With everything we sipped a fantastic Dry Riesling, perfect with seafood.

We had a quiet, enjoyable evening, reminiscing and talking about whatever. We sat around the kitchen bar/island and I put the food out as it came. After dinner, we went together to Christmas eve services at my church, which is like going home. It's always nice to be there--with our wonderful pastoral staff and congregation, we are among friends. It was a great service. We had a peaceful, enjoyable evening.

We slept in a bit on Christmas; I set an alarm but "snoozed" it until after 9. We finally decorated the tree on Christmas morning (thank heavens Santa didn't mind) and picked my teen up at noon.

The afternoon was very nice; everyone enjoyed their gifts and it was great to see lots of smiles. My son gave me a cat-a-day calendar (perfect) and a book he chose based on his recollection of an animated conversation I had had with another adult he respected about the excellent author Nelson DeMille. Again he impressed me with his thoughtfulness and attention.

By late afternoon though, everything caught up to me and I felt like I was hit by a truck. (Will I never get over this illness??) I wanted to spend as much time as possible with my son on Christmas, so, covered by blankets on the couch I watched him play his new Wii game and listened to his guitar playing. It made me happy to see him happy with his new things and to spend time with my son, as he approaches adulthood.

Christmas isn't like on TV or in movies, but we're not actors and there are no "second takes" here. There was no excited screaming or running out to the new car in the driveway with the giant red bow (I've always hated those commercials). We shared in the day, the meaning of the day, and enjoyed being a family. I enjoyed being able to give my loved ones things that made them smile--and hopefully showed that I understood them and wanted them to be happy. That's what I like about Christmas.

Tradition!

I was going to write about something else, but Little Ms Blogger's "Question of the Week" started me thinking... You can read her nice post and many replies here, but her question was simple: What is/was your favorite holiday tradition?

When I think of "traditions" in general, I usually think of things done in childhood--at least that's how my ex meant it, when he used to wax nostalgic about the supposedly idyllic holidays of his youth. And some of that was nice; during our first few Christmases together I enjoyed how the grandparents would come over in the late morning and neighbors would drop by for visits. These and a few other traditions were nice to share with the ex's family.

Looking back at my childhood Christmases, there wasn't any emphasis on tradition. We hung stockings and had cookies and eggnog on Christmas eve and opened presents in the morning, true. But things so often "went wrong" in one way or another, that if we weren't having a problem, we were waiting for one.

The Christmas traditions I remember with pleasure are, first and foremost, waking up way before anyone else and creeping silently downstairs. There, I would light the tree and build a fire in the fireplace. Sitting in the warm glow of the flames, I would try to soak in the scene and absorb the peace.

I also remember setting up the nativity scene. As the oldest daughter (and least likely to break it) I had the honor of setting up the figures of the nativity. I remember carefully unwrapping each one--Mary, Joseph, Gabriel, the shepherd, sheep, donkey, ox, camel, the three wise men...and finally Jesus in the manger. When I was younger, I remember how I used to set the scene up with baby Jesus in the center and everyone crowded around Him in a circle. They all wanted to see Him! My mother would rearrange the pieces into the more traditional setting later, so we could view the scene. One year, I spent several evenings in the basement making a wooden stable out of some wood scraps and shims--that manger scene meant so much to me that I wanted them to actually have the stable for a home.

After leaving home, the nativity was one of the first things I needed for my own holidays. I don't recall if I found one for that first Christmas, but soon I did. It was just a simple ceramic set painted in jeweltones, like my mother's, but I was so happy to have it. And every year it's there, on a piece of green velvet. Truth be told, I didn't remember setting up the nativity in a tight circle like I mentioned above until one year, when I let my son have the honor of putting it out. When he finished, one look brought that lost childhood memory back instantly. It was like seeing myself. All of the figures were gathered tightly around baby Jesus, just to see Him, to be near Him. I left our nativity as my son arranged it that year.

Another tradition which I have kept since leaving home is to go to Christmas eve church services. I wouldn't miss it. The service is the culmination of the four week season of Advent--the time of preparation for Jesus' birth. My season just would not be complete without welcoming our Savior's birth by singing "Silent Night" in a darkened, candlelit church. The peace and sense of anticipation we leave the church with is incomparable.

For a few years now, I've adopted the old Italian tradition of making the Seven Fishes for Christmas eve dinner--but that's surely better suited to a great big family dinner instead of two or three people. I'll work on that. Other than those traditions, there are the cookies. I've always baked a variety of cookies for Christmas--I love cookies, and the people around me always seem to too. I didn't realize how essential baking was to my season until several years ago. I was so busy in the weeks before Christmas that I had not even made any cookie batter, much less baked any cookies. I felt something was missing. I awoke on Christmas alone and feeling out of sorts, but with a craving for cookies. While waiting for my son, I mixed up 3 types of cookies and baked a dozen or two of each type. By the time he arrived, I was feeling the season and the house smelled like Christmas. Some traditions can cure a multitude of ills!

Our Special Girl

Over Halloween weekend hubby and I visited his daughter and granddaughter, who used to live nearby until a year ago--now they're six hours away. We had a delightful time! Hubby's granddaughter, Alexis, turned 3 years old earlier in October, so this was also our chance to celebrate her birthday with her.

Alexis was born in Guatemala and her adoption was finalized when she was almost 8 months old. Since then, she has grown physically, like all kids, but she has also grown to fill our hearts! It's so wonderful when we see her, she's like a little jumping bean! She bounces up, up, UP, UP!--until we catch her in a big hug. She just goes wild when she sees us, which feels incredible, and is even more heartwarming for me, a "step-grandparent."

During this last trip, the entirety of the extended families went to see one nephew play in a college football game not too far away. If you're a follower of this blog, you probably already know I'm not a huge sports fan--although I happen to know the game, in part because my ex was a coach. So, being the most distant "relative" of our player (and not a big fan anyway), I spent nearly the entire game entertaining Alexis while they cheered him on. I taught her how to use my digital camera--with me holding onto it, of course. You would never guess how delighted she was when she realized she could take pictures, and then go back and look through them, stored in the camera. We took the football players (focusing on her cousin), then it was the cheerleaders making a tower, then the play clock and endposts. Then she focused on taking grandpop, mama, mommy, auntie, grandma, grampy...every member of her extended family! She called to each by name, we held the camera, and she snapped the shot. She was fascinated and enthralled as we reviewed her pictures! I think I'm going to make an album for her so she can see her pictures, and later will have something to remember.

Alexis is the reason I'm involved in Kiva (their banner is just above my quick profile, in the margin). Kiva is a micro-lending website clearinghouse. On Kiva, anyone can make a small loan to an individual entrepeneur from the developing world. Kiva aggregates the money (as little as $25 from any individual) to loan moderate amounts (my reading of the website has shown loans are generally $500-1200). Each lender has a repayment schedule, and as long as all goes well, each loan is repaid over about a year. (There are defaults; more in certain locations and market sectors than others.) The repayment is returned to one's Kiva account, when the lender can either withdraw the money or loan it again to another entrepeneur.

Kiva operates in third world countries throughout the world to help alleviate poverty. Guatemala is an impoverished country, and Kiva has an agent there who lends to individuals. Recently, Alexis' mother forwarded a specific loan request she found on Kiva to us--from a young woman trying to establish a local grocery store in the tiny town where Alexis was born. That's when I got involved. Maybe, helping one woman and her family out of poverty in one small town might just give a little boost to our Alexis' original family. I hope so.

In fact, I intend to keep loaning specifically to Guatemalans (on a quarterly basis, I think) as there are 1-2 new requests every few weeks from there. Hopefully, helping to provide small loans to small business persons (many of whom are women) in Guatemala can, in some way, help the people who cared for Alexis and gave us the opportunity to love this wonderful little girl. I hope so.

A Big Weekend

The latest excitement around our house is my teen's first Homecoming Dance. When I was a teen, Homecoming was not such a big "thing." In school, we elected the Homecoming Court and Queen, and at halftime of the football game, they rode around the track on Corvettes (courtesy of the "A" County Corvette Club), had a crowning ceremony on the 50 yard line, then took a victory lap. I'm not even sure there was a Homecoming dance throughout high school...I do remember one being held in the gym after the football game my senior year. It wasn't the greatest of moments for those of us in the band--how do you fix long hair (fluffy, 80's long hair) after having it up under a band hat all night??

Here, Homecoming is quite an event. Tonight was the football game; I dropped my son and one of his friends off earlier, after the town-wide parade and before the start of the game. I don't think another car could have parked within half a mile of the high school!

Tomorrow night is The Dance. It's such a big event my son asked me about going several weeks ago, bought tickets 2 weeks ago, and has actually thought ahead about what he will wear. The girls all have pretty dresses for the event (my son's date is wearing chocolate brown), and corsages and dinner are part of the plan. I was slated to drive them until I found out that she wanted her parents to drive. (Oh well...I've offered to take them home, so we'll see).

My son even "needed" a new dress shirt and wanted a new tie...I was able to shop in the city and found what he wanted...he wears the smallest mens size, which isn't always readily available. His suit is a charcoal grey and she's wearing brown, so I got him a white shirt and a funky Jerry Garcia tie with an abstract pattern of browns and greys with yellow highlights. (I also got a very geometric brown and blue tie, in case he didn't like Jerry, but luckily he has better taste than his father).

We ordered the corsage/boutonniere by phone yesterday. They had several possibilities, so I turned to my son to find out if he wanted to get her the rose or the carnations. His look of bewilderment didn't really surprise me, so I translated quickly: "Is she a friend or do you really like her?" Without hesitation he answered the latter, so I ordered the rose corsage with brown ribbons.

This afternoon, I made sure that he was aware that when his date and her parents come to pick him up, everyone's coming inside (since it will be raining, there will be no pretty pictures outdoors with the fall leaves), we're taking pictures, getting to meet her and her parents, etc. He said he knew....

It's so exciting! He's actually going on his first real date, and he told me really likes this girl. How can my baby be that old already! It's been like the blink of an eye.

Everyone can tell you but you can never realize, when you hold your baby in your arms, even as you enjoy all the moments of their growing up, that they really will be grown in the blink of an eye.

We Saw the Meteor Crater

I keep wanting to call it "Meteor Crater National Park" or "National Monument" or something, but it's actually all privately owned. I can't help thinking it might have been better if it were a National Park. (We have been to sooo many National Parks, and every single one was staffed by Rangers who seem to know everything about the site and can tell the story like nobody's business.) Anyway, about 50,000 years ago a great big meteor hit the Earth, 35 miles east of Flagstaff. Of course, Flagstaff would come into being about 49,895 years later.

Here's a view from the road as you're heading in toward the crater. You can really see how the "arid grassland" was thrust upward by the impact--and it's even more impressive if you've been driving for about 35 miles over nothing but flat desert. The raised rim is 150 ft. high, and the crater is 3/4 mile wide.

As I mentioned, it's privately owned and operated, and I suffered massive sticker shock when we got up to the entrance. (Cost to get in--adults $15, seniors 60+ $14, kids 6-17, $8...which isn't bad if you're spending half a day, but you can see the whole thing, including the movie but not the hike,[cancelled due to electrical storm] in less than an hour.) Of course after driving 35 miles east, then about 6 miles south, you might as well pay the fee to get in or you've done all that for nothing.

Inside, they have an exhibit area (not big enough to call a museum), with several meteorites to touch and many interactive exhibits for the kids. They have a 12 minute movie, during which I kept expecting information about this crater, but the movie was old and very general.
The highlight was going out on the walkway to look at the crater. Here's my teenager looking through one of the telescopes at the bottom of the crater.

And, looking right, middle, and left (below), here it is. It's reported to be 550 feet deep, rim to bottom, and 3/4 mile in diameter. There is a walkway with overlooks down maybe 30 feet below the rim.

It's about as exciting as it looks. I mean, I'm kinda interested in geology and we did see layers of rocks....but, it just didn't meet expectations--I expected to learn more.

I asked my son if he'd recommend to his friends to go there and without hesitation he said, "No, it was boring." I thought it was amazing to see the remnants of a real meteor creater on Earth (I kept thinking of the moon), but I'd be lying if I told you it wasn't a bit overblown and a bit less educational that I had hoped. Just in case you're interested, here's the website: http://www.meteorcrater.com/

A Very Happy Return to Sedona

On our family vacation this year, we introduced my son to one of my loves: Sedona, Arizona. Hubby took me there for the first time several years ago, and we've been wanting to return since then. The people we met were all very friendly, and the whole area has an open, relaxed atmosphere. Sedona's first white settlers came in 1876, and the town was officially named (after the shopkeeper's wife) and granted a post office in 1902. So, compared to much history "back east," Sedona's pretty new. In the late 1950's, spiritualists and "hippies" came to Sedona, drawn by spiritual "vortexes" (energy centers) they found in the red rocks. Now, the place is full of "new age" spiritualists and has a very relaxed feel.

Although the area has grown up a lot since we last visited, much remained the same. This time, though, in search of adventure (teenager, remember), we booked an "Extreme" Hummer tour through the mountain trails. It was fun and scary for me--here's a picture of one of the so-called-roads we first came down, then went up. (You cannot get the full idea from the picture, but it was just barely wide enough for the hummer, with a cliff-like drop off just past the trees, and the darker step-like rocks are about 14-16 inchs high each.) The teenager had a fantastic time. Both of them.

Hummer dude also took us on a tour of the named rocks. Here's Snoopy Rock (he's lying just to the right of the big squarish formation.)

We also biked in the red rocks. The still-great Bike and Bean, http://www.bike-bean.com/Sedona_Bike_And_Bean.html , still at the edge of Oak Creek, hooked us up with the perfect bikes, helmets and water, and off we went. It was darn hot, even at 9 a.m., but once my son and I discovered the exhilaration of racing down the last half mile of trail, "catching air" over moguls, riding willy-nilly over gravel and loose rocks--it was addictive. We rode back up 2 more times just to fly down. I honestly felt like a kid again. My son even called me an adrenaline junkie. Here are some pics from the farthest point in our ride...up close to the rocks.

In the foreground is part of the trail we rode; in the distance (if you click and enlarge it you might be able to see it) is the cathedral of the rocks--a Catholic church built right into the red rocks.

We had a great time tubing on the Verde River (no pictures, too wet...whose idea was it to provide us with super soakers???), and saw free range cattle along the road. We also went up to the airport, which is on top of a huge mesa, to watch the sunset and look out over Sedona. It's become quite popular, judging by the crowds that were there. On our last trip, it was very quiet and peaceful. These photos are of Sedona in the valley, encircled by the red rocks.

We had great meals--Picazzo Pizza really excelled--both in their huge salads and delicious, gourmet (or plain, for the boy) pizzas. Really good. A world away from your everyday pizza joint. It was such a pleasure being back in Sedona!

I mentioned in another post that I did a good job spraining my ankle one morning while on a power walk in Sedona. Here's the rest of the story. I was out around 8:30 a.m. on a Saturday, doing my exercising around several residential blocks behind our hotel. In a second's inattention, I planted my foot at the edge of the pavement, which was maybe 3" higher than the adjacent gravel. I'd have fallen, except for extreme hopping ability, spurred on in part by all of the cactuses growing along the roadside. (A five-hop recovery: pretty impressive.)

In the next few minutes, as I tried to determine how badly I was hurt, an angel in an Acura stopped to ask if I was ok. I gave her a typical east-coast "Oh, I'm fine," but she was too nice for that. "But you're obviously hurt--I live right here--let me give you a ride home." She assured me it was no trouble, and I accepted her generosity. Three blocks later, she pulled right up to the base of the stairway to our room. I thanked her of course, and she refused praise, but her kindness so touched me--I was so far from home, a visitor knowing no one--and she, a complete stranger, completely unbidden, was willing to lend a helping hand. There are still good people in the world. Wow.

The Best Things

I'm going to call it a success. We just got back from a family vacation to the Grand Canyon and other fun spots in Arizona. I had fun, hubby had fun, even my teenage alien son had fun--at least he admitted enjoying a few things on the trip. But the real success was in the tiniest things. Said son voluntarily helped carry luggage on several occasions. He was overheard telling animated stories about our trip to friends on the phone (the one that has nearly become a part of his ear over the last year). He did cannonballs into the pool near my head. He helped us into and out of the boat.

And one moment I won't forget. We rode an old school bus back from the Colorado River rafting trip and the stars were more brilliant than I've seen them in years. Perfectly framed in our window was Cassiopia and I pointed the constellation out to him. He studied the stars for a minute, asked a question to confirm that he had identified the right 5 stars, and responded that he could see it. A few minutes later I commented on how brilliant the stars were there, in the desert--and his response was "Y'know mom, we could still drive back to that place [Lowell Observatory] and look through the telescope tonight."

Despite his teenage alien status, he had been listening--when we couldn't go viewing 3 nights prior because of the weather, and when we toured the Observatory the previous morning--and not only that, he realized I hadn't been able to do something I would have loved and he cared enough to offer to do it that night after a full day on the river.

Of our whole week, I think I'll remember that moment as the best.