Monday, October 18, 2010

Christmas 1960


Christmas 1960.

Where do I start??

1) Seriously Mom, I need new jammies, someone apparently had a sudden growth spurt.

2) Brother is looking on, angelic. It's just an act.

3) I seem to be questioning something, like is that all? That's ALL Santa brought? There must be a mistake.

4) Note the tinsel. That stuff is probably illegal now, toxic maybe? Rusty liked to run past the tree, grabbing a mouthful as he flew by, as fast as his stubby little legs could carry him. Once he succeeded (failed?) on his mission as he brought the tree down.

5) Note that it is dark outside the picture window. It's either very early, or very late. Although we did open our gifts on Christmas Eve in later years, I certainly hope we were not doing it at that age. Talk about killing Santa, Mom & Dad.

6) Love the furniture. Love it. There are people today who would fight over it. The curved sectional was a chenille fabric, in a lovely 1950's salmon tone. The coffee table echoed that curve, rather like a boomerang. The carpet. The carpet! It was a sculpted loop carpet with a rose pattern. SO my mother. The end tables and lamps were around until this year.

7) It's wonderful, isn't it?

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Thank you, Google

Google, because of you I can now Google Talk - which is essentially IM - with Jeff. No longer must I drop .10 cents every time Jeff and I exchange a text message. Thanks, I appreciate it!

Anita

An Epiphany

An Open Letter to My Family:

I had an epiphany today. Although minor by comparison to other epiphanies, it was still rocked my world and is setting me on a different path in regards to creative outlet.

I am a memory keeper.

That means that I am not a scrapbooker, per se, but one who wants to record stories, memories, thoughts, dreams. I am not driven to put memories down on cardstock, rather to share them in a more immediate manner. I thought I was a scrapbooker, but it turns out that I am not. Scrapbooking is too slow for how I mentally process things. Plus, I have too many things swirling in my head that I want to get down. Now. I have always loved to write, and have wanted to write for my own pleasure but lacked a platform or format. While time and tide waits for no man, my thoughts won't wait for paper and paste. I am fearful of memories and moments slipping away from me.

I think this new paradigm has been evolving in my mind since my mom passed away. We all know we should seek out our parents memories, stories, wisdoms, but sadly we often don't realize how important it is until it's too late. Although I have many stories from my Dad, I am bereft of stories from my mother's childhood and youth. I regret that those are lost.

I wonder if Declan and my other, future grandchildren will wonder about me, as I have wondered about my parents and grandparents. Never having had a grandfather leaves me wondering what that would have been like. When I think about Heaven, I secretly wish that my grandfathers will be there, waiting, eager to give me the unconditional grandfatherly love that I missed. Is this not what faith is all about? I believe that my own life would have been enriched by knowing my parents and grandparents' hopes and dreams as well as their regrets and losses. Would we find common threads woven through the generations?

And so here I am, with my wee blog (having been immersed in the Outlander series for the past several weeks {months?}, I find it easy to slip in to a little Scots vocab occasionally). I do this for no one but myself; I have my own selfish reasons, but if anyone else finds it interesting, so be it. I have pictures to share, memories to gift to the future and words waiting to file out. In an orderly fashion, I hope. I want not only to share random bits and pieces of my own life - as I see it - but of others, as it unfolds. I pray for guidance that I never say hurtful words, or share things that should have been left private. My original intent was to write only for myself. I was afraid that if I shared, two things would happen. One, I would have to edit what I say. Since I am far, far from perfect there are things that I possibly would write about for my own peace, but not for the consumption of my family. Two, that by sharing I am also opening myself up to criticism and someone else's displeasure in what was written. I came to the solution of one, if I have things to write about the are better left private, this blog is not the place for that anyway. Two, just be kind in your critique and you know we can always talk. This family, as a whole, talks things out pretty darn well. We're gifted like that.

I hope to further expand my meager talent in photography, and to share that progress here. Why? Just because I can. It certainly will not forward anyone else's skills. I find photography deeply satisfying. Sometimes I feel boxed in, here in the wilds of Johnson County, but we'll see. I would love to expand my collection of lenses and experiment with what is possible. I would like to take a class or two, but it's hard to find the time. I know I've come a very long way from the day Terry first bought me the Rebel, and I've loved the journey.

I will not tread specifically on topics that I know are off limits. I may speak in general terms, though. If there is a post which you are uncomfortable with, let me know and I will either edit or remove it. I do hope that others will write guest posts. How fun would that be?! Guest posts are subject to my approval, of course, but it would be interesting and fun. And that brings me to the point of this blog.

This is an interesting family. I had an unique childhood, growing up nowhere and everywhere, knowing terms like 'pig', 'dope', 'inspector' and 'right-of-way'. My dad was a great storyteller and I can only hope to serve his gift reasonably well. This family is unique with having had three sons serve in the military. We have Alyssa, who has shown unparalleled grace of getting through challenging times without self pity, bitterness or anger. There is your dad, whom I know in a different way than you do. I know a man who was a wild child, left to his own devices as a teen, maybe stuck a toe or two in the waters of trouble, but emerged with so much love and caring for his family that one might question it were the same person. We have a family that others only dream about having, and it is here I will celebrate it.

I hope you're okay with that.

Janet, you can stop worrying about keeping this a secret. You did good.

Anita

PS - This is not to say that I've entirely given up scrapbooking. There are still some aspects of it that appeal to me. With some help and cooperation, I would really like for each of my sons to have a military scrapbook, and mini albums....something that is small and focused, is something I see continuing.

PPS - You may share this if you so desire.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Looks Oddly Familiar


According to my mother's handwritten note on the back, this photo was taken in California, circa 1960. I would hope that's the last time I was seen topless in public.




And doesn't it look oddly familiar to this? The similarity is creepy.




And by golly, Grandpa's got himself the next generation of Bigfoot-movie-watcher keeping him company.

Caprese Pasta Salad


My family loves Caprese Salad, so when I saw this in America's Test Kitchen's 30-Minutes Suppers, I knew I had to try it. It was good, although too pasta-y for me, so the recipe below reflects a reduction of pasta by half. I doubled the dressing as I find a dry pasta salad very unappealing, and I was glad for it. I don't think it will replace our summertime Caprese Salad, but it was yummy and more substantial.

Somewhere in Italy, Jeff had Caprese Salad. I remember him ordering it, but I don't remember where we were at the time. You have to hand it to the Italians, they do simple food to perfection.

Caprese Pasta Salad

3 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 garlic clove, minced
salt & pepper
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1/3 cup EVOO
1/2 half pound rigatoni
2 pint cherry tomatoes, halved
1 1/2 cups halved fresh mini mozzarella balls
(if you can find pearls, no need to cut)
1 cup basil leaves, roughly torn

1. Bring 4 quarts water to boil in large pot. Whisk vinegar, garlic, 3/4 teaspoon salt, 1/2 teaspoon pepper and pepper flakes in large bowl. Gradually whisk in oil.

2. Add 1 tablespoon salt and rigatoni to boiling water and cook until al dente. Drain pasta and rinse with cold water.

3. Transfer pasta to bowl with dressing and toss with dressing, tomatoes, cheese, and basil until thoroughly mixed. Season with salt and pepper. Serve.

Serves 4.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Funny


Hi, Uncle Kyle.



Uncle Kyle is funny.

Monday, October 11, 2010

A Day with Deanna....Rose that is.


Alyssa and I decided to enjoy a gorgeous fall day and take Declan to Deanna Rose Children's Farmstead. Over the past 20+ years, it's changed from a small park to an amazing little touch of country in the city.


Alyssa & Declan heading into the Farmstead.


The geese are resting in the cool shade, it was easily in the mid-70's by this time.


Declan and his new favorite toy. Plastic measuring spoons. Yes, folks, you read that right.


Goats, goats, goats everywhere. I would not like them here or there, I would not like them anywhere. Channeling Dr. Seuss! In spite of this sweet little goat wanting to nibble on my skirt, they were cute, cute, cute, with bulging tummies. (More about bulging tummies coming your way soon.)


Alyssa bought Goat Chow, so the goats all chased, followed, tugged at and jumped on her.


Declan still chewing on his spoons.


Hi Declan! Mema loves you, you are so cute!


Snack time! Now, no one get jealous, but Declan's got himself a banana to gnaw on in that little mesh bag.


"Ew, maybe someone else would like it", he muses silently.


"I'm not too certain about this banana business."


"Yuck...."


"I'm trying to like it....", he vows.


"How about an In-n-Out Burger right here on my tray??"


Trying out the stroller as a teething ring.


Declan, ready to move on to something different.


Hi Declan, you are such a good baby!


Seriously, darling! You are surrounded by nature, soak it up, let it inspire you.


This is a pen of pregnant goats. About thirty of them, to one baby daddy.


Hello, are you Baby Daddy?


Or is it you? (We had to be discreet with the baby there, so didn't check out anyone's "junk".)


Hi Declan!


Big boy on the fence, pretending he can do it all by himself.


No! Please don't eat the daises! (name that movie)


Standing proud amongst the flowers.


Going for another snack.


Bottle time = sleepy time. Wait for it.


...And there it is folks, just as predicted.

Declan had nature thrust upon him and he lived to tell the tale. And what better way to end the morning than a milk coma?