In Genesis 32:22-32, we read about the wrestling match of the...well...forever. Jacob wrestles with a "man", who, in actuality, is THE MAN - God Himself. Talk about a mismatch. Mini-Me Would have a better chance against Andre the Giant. In verse 25, we are told that that after an all night bout, the "Man" discovered that He had not prevailed - in other words, they tussled to a draw. Right. God could have held Jacob away, like the big brother keeping a palm on the much littler brother's forehead, while the little guy whirls away like a windmill in a hurricane. God CHOSE to let Jacob wrestle with Him all night. Then God did something which might look a little spiteful at first glance: He touched Jacob's hip and it blew out of the socket. Wow. That's power. So, it's not as though the Lord had met His match. He just had His reasons for letting this mere man wrestle The Creator to a tie.
I've been feeling a bit like Jacob of late - not in the Father-of-Nations way, but in my own personal bout with the Lord. At times I have felt like He has had me in an impossible hold, but considering He could squoosh me like an ant, a half-nelson is not half-bad. He allows me to fuss and cry and whine and try to overpower Him and His will, in order to have a free and clear path to exercise my own. And I don't just want His permission, or even be pleased with His blessing. Nope. I want God to facilitate my wish list.
We are still kind of meandering here in Riverside County. We are here in our first choice for RV parks, but we may have to move out tomorrow for the weekend. Unfortunately, we can't go back to the cul-de-sac that the kids live on. Seems you have to have a permit from the city of Temecula. I found that out about a week ago when I was tappy-tapping away and one of Temecula's finest came along side to give me a ticket. The real corker was that my Don was out with Kyle previewing properties, and I don't know how to move the beast known as the motorhome. So, I looked pathetic enough to rate a one hour reprieve - enough time for me to make a fairly panicked call to my hubby, the captain of this ship, start packing up for moving, all the while having a SERIOUS chat with God. So, God let me wrestle with Him. Fortunately, Pechanga RV Park has a massive parking lot adjacent where they allow folks to park for a few days at a time, so we were covered. But I still insisted upon tussling with my Heavenly Father. It was a tough night, but the next day, I began to see His abundant mercy...again.
We did move in to the park the next day, but by then I was completely without voice, thanks to a nasty cough I had been entertaining for a week. Now, Don's glee notwithstanding, I had a class to teach at a marriage retreat in Palm Springs in five days. I texted my teaching partner, who immediately responded back that she had been hit in the head by a basketball - passed, ironically, by her own daughter - and now had a minor concussion. At this point, we both realized that it wasn't God we were wrestling, but the enemy himself. And he fights dirty. On top of the physical drama, we had to move out of the park again, because of the Temecula Wine and Balloon (the big hot air-I-wouldn't-ride-in-one-on-a-bet type, not the make-fun-animals type) Festival, and the place was sold out. So, Friday we packed up and moved back to the lot, then drove over the nearby mountains into Palm Springs, where all went beautifully!! Praise God! We came back on Sunday, moved back into the pretty park - and I began the tussle with God once again.
In my little head, I guess I thought that I had done all that God wanted me to do - I was at both weddings, made Gregory's graduation, and taught at the Marriage Getaway. "OH, AAAAABBAAAA FAAAAAATHER!!!!I'M AAAAALL DONE!!!!!" hmmmm.... I'm still here.... The wrestling resumes. I find myself wanting to know the exact end date - when we will be returning to our island home. I want to know exactly WHY al this happened in the first place. After all, had God let those deals close we could have afforded to come over here on our own, right!?!? But 55:8 says it clearly and succinctly: "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your ways my ways, declares the Lord." Huh. In other words, I won't be running for God too soon, and He won't be asking my opinion on how I think the world - even MY world - should be handled.
Remember Jacob getting his hip blown out of the socket by a mere pinkie touch of God? Of course you do. It was just five paragraphs earlier. God demonstrated His own power, as well as making Jacob walk with a hitch in his giddyup for the rest of his days. Even with all that, Jacob clung to the Lord, much as a three-year-old clings to her father's leg when she does not want to be separated from him. Jacob clung and would not let go until God had blessed him. God gave Jacob that, plus a new name - Israel. From him, a whole people sprung. Holy cats, that's some blessing. So, then what would be so hard about giving me what I want? Because, quite clearly, it is not in GOD'S plans for what He wants for me.........(sigh!)
Does this mean I will stop wrestling with God? I'd like to say that I will never do that again, but somehow that seems to lack sincerity. Or any possibility of being true. If anything, I would like to wrestle in order to cling closer to my heavenly Father. I would ask Him to give me more faith, and set my heart even more on fire for Him, so when He asks me to do something that is annoying or painful or stressful, I do it with joy, not whining. If I cling to Him, let it not be like that tempermental child who wants what she wants when she wants it. Let me simply cling with all my heart to the One who loves me.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Two Weddings and a Graduation - Parte Dos
Ah...so where were we.... AHA! Gregory's graduation!
When Greg started Kindergarten, he seemed to have trouble grasping some of the basics, and by first grade, he still struggled. But his teacher, Mrs. Insko - a lovely young woman...of course - worked with him, and patiently taught the little towhead how to not only read, but to love learning. He loved it so much, in fact, that except for about a year or so following his graduation from USC, he has pretty much been in school ever since.
So, off were we Daltons, some 25 or so years later, to Multnomah Biblical Seminary in Portland, Oregon, to watch and beam as Greg received his second Masters - a Master of Divinity. We be so proud!
But, there was more to the weekend than just our son in a funny hat and dress. It actually started somewhere between Kindergarten and graduation, actually. Last Christmas Greg made his Christmas present for his family round trip tickets to Portland, and we would all be staying in his place. Now, before you start picturing six adults and two tots in a college dorm room, I should clarify that Greg lives in a very large home, Him, and six other guys. Kind of a Godly frat house, we call it - all the testosterone, minus the empties and stripper pole. The Dalton gang would occupy the basement, which isn't as spooky as it sounds - although it does seem like that's where one keeps the scarier members of the family that you don't want your roommates to know about. It is actually a very comfortable 2 bedroom, one bath apartment. Kyle, Kristin and the kiddies occupied one large bedroom, Don and I in the other very spacious bedroom, and Uncle John got the futon in the living room. Greg moved upstairs to the futon in the living room on the main floor, discovering, only after his first night of attempted sleep, that he had the same issue with his bed as we had for Autumn and Tarkus' wedding - wonkage. But that was his problem. We were all rather cozy downstairs - except for John. His futon was only slightly wonky. His problem was of the cute, jammied variety. John works very hard at his job, so when he has mornings to sleep in, he likes to do just that. Kind of challenging when you have a little niece and nephew that want to play with all the toys that "Guncle (Uncle Greg) borrowed from his church for them to play with. Not only that, Uncle John is fun to play with. Somehow we even managed to survive with only one bathroom! Not easy when two of the apartment's occupants are card-carrying adult females. But we more than managed - it was a four-alarm blast!
We got there the day before his Friday May the Thirteenth graduation...which would make it....Thursday the Twelfth ...yeah, that's it.
Don and I got tickets on the same flight but further back. Our plan had been to offer to trade with someone seated next to K&K&Kiddies, and Uncle John. In fact, we figured there would be fistfights to see who could trade once they saw a three-year-old and a 16-month-old in close proximity. But, that didn't happen. Not only were they handling things just fine (kids and adults alike), we had our own version of terrors in the sky - two little tots who when not kicking the seat in front of them were whining or screaming about what they couldn't have. About halfway through the two hour flight (believe me, we counted every minute), the four-year-old was asleep in his seat, and the two-year-old was screaming about food and a movie. Mommy was pleading with him with a soft "shoosh-shoosh-shoosh", while Dad was reading his book. Egad. I ws ready to start my own fistfight. But we got thrre, safe and sound - but no Guncle. He was still at home putting the last minute touches on his place, but he was just a few minutes from the airport, so no problem. By the time Don returned with the rental Urban Assault Vehicle, Greg was there and we were all ready for this newest Dalton Adventure to begin!
It was fairly late in the day, so getting food was a pretty big priority (what I meant to say was that we were all STUFFED after our sumptuous airplane meal). Greg led us to a Portland trademark - food carts! Think of the offspring of a county fair and a roach coach, with a little funk thrown in. Actually, this was some pretty amazing comfort food - and given that such comfort food is frequently on the D&D menu of late (as to which my clothes shrinking while hanging in my closet can attest), this hit the sweet spot. There are several of these cluster of colorful carts scattered around Portland, occupying vacant lots or a bunch of parking spaces, and the carts surround picnic benches. We sat ourselves around one and began to feast on pulled pork fries, pepperoni pizza (with the best crust I have EVER had!), and hand held pies - chicken, pulled pork, and mac n' cheese. oh my. We snarfed down what we could, then had a bunch of leftovers. The celebration had begun in earnest.
The next day was the BIG day. Greg's Baccalaureate (omigosh. Spelled it right on the first try) was at 10:00, but we had to get our favorite graduate to the school by 9:30. This would be the first morning of all of us trying to get beautiful at once - with the exception of John who decided that sleeping in on a slightly wonkish futon was far superior than fighting for the limited shower time. We actually managed to get ready and be beautiful nearly on time. One thing that Kristin and I discovered quite quickly that there was no sign of a woman having anything to do with the design of this house. There were no vanities in any of the bathrooms - just pedestal sinks. Where is a girl supposed to lay her makeup, blow dryer, flat iron, hair products, paddle brush, round brush, hair clips, and coffee!?!? The bedrooms were no better. For all their spaciousness, they had only one outlet, and that one outlet was nowhere near a mirror. See, I know I just lost any guy-types that might be reading this, but EVERY girl no what I am talking about! But I digress.... Point is, we got to the service on time and we were all quite lovely.
As we sat down in the service, and saw all these Masters graduates - our son among them - it just hit me. this is our little goofy Greggor. I began to replay moments of his life. And, yes, I began to cry a little - which Kyle IMMEDIATELY pointed out to his brother. SO, what's your point there, boys!?!?!? I earned my mushy moment. I failed to mention that among the Greg's fellow graduates was Cari, the bride for the next weekend and one of the stars of my last blog. She and Greg had been friends down in SD, at The Rock Church, working together in the Care and Concern ministry, then Cari started at Multnomah a semester behind Greg. It was wonderful seeing her that morning, but even more wonderful to see her get a special award! I would tell you what it was for, but I don't quite remember. I just know we were as proud as if she were our own!
Service over, we headed back to pick up John and enjoy the day before the big wingding that night. I should also point out one other, maybe very obvious, factor in our visit to Portland. We froze. Keep in mind that Don and I each grew up in Southern California. I lived in San Diego my whole life, and he was born and raised in So Cal, and except for some college years in Iowa, he lived in warmth, too. When the brisk winters of San Diego, where temps might plunge to the low 60's, became too much for us, we moved to Maui. Being a relatively smart person, I kept an assortment of warm clothing in the rv for our visits to the mainland. We would obviously need these warm items, given that the high was only supposed to be in the low 60's. Look just two lines above to see how we feel about that. Anyway, the day before we were flying up to Oregon, I asked Don to go get said cozy garments from the side storage outside. This would require bring the sideout in, since where we were at the time, Golden Village RV Park in beautiful downtown Hemet, had narrow sites with thick hedges lining each site. Our sideout, in which the storage locker resided, was firmly smooshed up next to the hedge, and one would need several jungle guides with machetes to get through - without pulling the side back in, that is. Clearing out of the way all the things that we put IN the way (little cocktail tables, suitcases, shoes, etc.), it was time to push the magic switch that would bring the side in. So, I pushed. The hydrolics that move entire sections of a nice little motorhome like ours make a high-pitched whiny sound as it expands our interior from an aisle with furniture to an actual living room. TAH-DAH!! The reverse is also true - push the magic switch, whiny sound emits, and your living room contracts down to a carpeted aisle with a sofa and lounge chair. TEE-DEE!! This time I pushed. All whine, no action. Tried again. The whine seemed to get more intense, as though the little man inside was pushing really, reeeeally hard. Nuthin'. Don went outside to offer encouragement to the reluctant sideout by pushing with all his might as I continued with the squealing, useless switch. It moved!! About an inch and a half. Suffice to say, we left for Portland without all the warm things that I had packed away for storage. I did have a pair of jeans, some cords, and three sweaters. Unfortunately, the sweaters were less about keep me warm than they were about keep me cute while looking like they were keeping me warm. Limited success on both points. I also had only open-toed shoes. Cute shoes, to be sure, but not so much about being warm.
Back to Friday. We took off for the afternoon to Mt. Tabor Park. Beautiful and green, and where the trees did not provide shade, there were carpets of yellow and white wildflowers. After a short (pant-pant!), easy (pant-puff-wheeze!), walk up the slope (puff-puff-GASP!!), we were blessed by a stunning view of Mt. Hood. Understand, this is a rare sight. In fact, of all the times in Portland, this is the first time we have ever seen Mt Hood in its full length pointyness. There were also lots of places to take artsy-fartsy pix of family - some that actually looked good! The best, of course, were of Amber - first after her father laid her in a field of wildflowers, and then when she did the sort of 3-year-old-vamp-over-the-shoulder-smolder. Smokin'!! Watch out, Kyle. Less than ten years 'til the teens.... After an easier descent, and some fun at the playground, it was time to get our favorite grad off to get pretty for his ceremony.
The commencement ceremony for Multnomah Bible College and Seminary was at a big church several miles south of Greg's house. Greg flew out before the rest of the gang - this time, the role of Kristin and the babies was being played by Uncle John. With only being a teeny bit late, we cruised in in time to take our seats then listen to a piano play "Pomp and Circumstance" - lovely, but lacked that swell and drama and tear-jerky stuff. I still managed to cry. Duh. The graduating classes of Multnomah aren't huge by any stretch, but considering how we were in second row, nosebleed, it was a little tough to pick out our boy. "Hey, he's the one in the black dress and the half a pizza box, with the lamp pull hanging from the corner, on his head!" Yeah, not so much. It wasn't until much....much....a whole buncha much later that we saw Greg stand with his class. Since his particular class, Master of Divinity (M Div, if you like to speak in shorthand or text talk), was the second to last of AAAALL the classes, so yes, it was much...much... later. When he came up, and his name was announced as he was to receive his hood, Greg's brothers reacted - by screaming like two twelve-year-old girls at a Justin Bieber concert. Two of Greg's roommates were sitting next to my other sons. I think they - and all strangers around them - deserved combat pay. As if the pre-pubescent female screams weren't enough, Kyle yelled out his location to Greg, and the entire mass of people. To the people at Rolling Hills Church attending the commencement ceremonies of Multnomah Bible College and Seminary on Friday, May 13, 2011...we, the parents, offer our sincerest apologies....and no explanation.
Commencing ceased, and we began the exciting game of "Find Your Graduate!". Easy, remember? Look for the guy in the black dress, half pizza box with lamp pull on head, and now, a beautiful satin hood - which, in actuality, looks more like a fancy stole sewed into a circle then looped around the graduate's neck like a backwards lei. But it is the coolest thing. Maybe ever. We finally found him and started snapping the requisite poses with family, friends, and innocent passers-by. We also found Cari, and took a couple of lovely shots of the two of them. Wait. Let me be honest here: Cari looked lovely. Greg looked like....Greg. This new recipient of his second Masters had his tassel in his mouth - which quickly got attached to the wad of chewing gum he'd been working over since before the ceremony. The next pix show him trying to free his shiny red tassel from the sticky glob. Ah, me...
The rest of the weekend flew by - we took the Max (their light rail) into the Saturday Market, and ate more wonderful bad food while enjoying the very colorful culture (and counter) along the Willamette...or Columbia - we're not sure which. But it was a river. The guys cooked steaks, then Kristin got to be free of the little ones and head with all the men to Greg's favorite pub for darts and a brew. Sunday morning, we watched Greg as worship leader at his church, where the pastor said it was "all about Greg" day, and officially dubbed him a bona fide Smarty Pants. After church, we walked in the rain (the Californians were the only one with umbrellas because Portlandians think they're silly) to the pastor's house, where a BBQ was given in Greg's honor. Impressive. Before giving thanks for the food, there was a "Time of Appreciation" for Greg, as one-by-one, folks told Greg what they appreciated about him. This could be the most wonderful gift any parent could receive - to know that others see their child as they do. And, yes, I cried. Do you really have to ask!?!? Then, dinner that night with our nephew, Phillip, and his lovely bride, Nicole - rather impressively pregnant with their first (she's in labor as I write this!! Go, Nic!!). Such a day. Such a weekend.
Monday came too quickly. Back to the airport. So fast. We hung out as long as we could with Greg (actually forgetting that we hadn't yet gone through security and we had a baby in a stroller. oops). As we were saying our last bye-byes to Gregory/Guncle, he said to me with a smile, "You know, I was looking at those professors with the fancy robes and hoods, and the floppy hats. I want to be one of them."
I'll get you for this, Mrs. Insko.
When Greg started Kindergarten, he seemed to have trouble grasping some of the basics, and by first grade, he still struggled. But his teacher, Mrs. Insko - a lovely young woman...of course - worked with him, and patiently taught the little towhead how to not only read, but to love learning. He loved it so much, in fact, that except for about a year or so following his graduation from USC, he has pretty much been in school ever since.
So, off were we Daltons, some 25 or so years later, to Multnomah Biblical Seminary in Portland, Oregon, to watch and beam as Greg received his second Masters - a Master of Divinity. We be so proud!
But, there was more to the weekend than just our son in a funny hat and dress. It actually started somewhere between Kindergarten and graduation, actually. Last Christmas Greg made his Christmas present for his family round trip tickets to Portland, and we would all be staying in his place. Now, before you start picturing six adults and two tots in a college dorm room, I should clarify that Greg lives in a very large home, Him, and six other guys. Kind of a Godly frat house, we call it - all the testosterone, minus the empties and stripper pole. The Dalton gang would occupy the basement, which isn't as spooky as it sounds - although it does seem like that's where one keeps the scarier members of the family that you don't want your roommates to know about. It is actually a very comfortable 2 bedroom, one bath apartment. Kyle, Kristin and the kiddies occupied one large bedroom, Don and I in the other very spacious bedroom, and Uncle John got the futon in the living room. Greg moved upstairs to the futon in the living room on the main floor, discovering, only after his first night of attempted sleep, that he had the same issue with his bed as we had for Autumn and Tarkus' wedding - wonkage. But that was his problem. We were all rather cozy downstairs - except for John. His futon was only slightly wonky. His problem was of the cute, jammied variety. John works very hard at his job, so when he has mornings to sleep in, he likes to do just that. Kind of challenging when you have a little niece and nephew that want to play with all the toys that "Guncle (Uncle Greg) borrowed from his church for them to play with. Not only that, Uncle John is fun to play with. Somehow we even managed to survive with only one bathroom! Not easy when two of the apartment's occupants are card-carrying adult females. But we more than managed - it was a four-alarm blast!
We got there the day before his Friday May the Thirteenth graduation...which would make it....Thursday the Twelfth ...yeah, that's it.
Don and I got tickets on the same flight but further back. Our plan had been to offer to trade with someone seated next to K&K&Kiddies, and Uncle John. In fact, we figured there would be fistfights to see who could trade once they saw a three-year-old and a 16-month-old in close proximity. But, that didn't happen. Not only were they handling things just fine (kids and adults alike), we had our own version of terrors in the sky - two little tots who when not kicking the seat in front of them were whining or screaming about what they couldn't have. About halfway through the two hour flight (believe me, we counted every minute), the four-year-old was asleep in his seat, and the two-year-old was screaming about food and a movie. Mommy was pleading with him with a soft "shoosh-shoosh-shoosh", while Dad was reading his book. Egad. I ws ready to start my own fistfight. But we got thrre, safe and sound - but no Guncle. He was still at home putting the last minute touches on his place, but he was just a few minutes from the airport, so no problem. By the time Don returned with the rental Urban Assault Vehicle, Greg was there and we were all ready for this newest Dalton Adventure to begin!
It was fairly late in the day, so getting food was a pretty big priority (what I meant to say was that we were all STUFFED after our sumptuous airplane meal). Greg led us to a Portland trademark - food carts! Think of the offspring of a county fair and a roach coach, with a little funk thrown in. Actually, this was some pretty amazing comfort food - and given that such comfort food is frequently on the D&D menu of late (as to which my clothes shrinking while hanging in my closet can attest), this hit the sweet spot. There are several of these cluster of colorful carts scattered around Portland, occupying vacant lots or a bunch of parking spaces, and the carts surround picnic benches. We sat ourselves around one and began to feast on pulled pork fries, pepperoni pizza (with the best crust I have EVER had!), and hand held pies - chicken, pulled pork, and mac n' cheese. oh my. We snarfed down what we could, then had a bunch of leftovers. The celebration had begun in earnest.
The next day was the BIG day. Greg's Baccalaureate (omigosh. Spelled it right on the first try) was at 10:00, but we had to get our favorite graduate to the school by 9:30. This would be the first morning of all of us trying to get beautiful at once - with the exception of John who decided that sleeping in on a slightly wonkish futon was far superior than fighting for the limited shower time. We actually managed to get ready and be beautiful nearly on time. One thing that Kristin and I discovered quite quickly that there was no sign of a woman having anything to do with the design of this house. There were no vanities in any of the bathrooms - just pedestal sinks. Where is a girl supposed to lay her makeup, blow dryer, flat iron, hair products, paddle brush, round brush, hair clips, and coffee!?!? The bedrooms were no better. For all their spaciousness, they had only one outlet, and that one outlet was nowhere near a mirror. See, I know I just lost any guy-types that might be reading this, but EVERY girl no what I am talking about! But I digress.... Point is, we got to the service on time and we were all quite lovely.
As we sat down in the service, and saw all these Masters graduates - our son among them - it just hit me. this is our little goofy Greggor. I began to replay moments of his life. And, yes, I began to cry a little - which Kyle IMMEDIATELY pointed out to his brother. SO, what's your point there, boys!?!?!? I earned my mushy moment. I failed to mention that among the Greg's fellow graduates was Cari, the bride for the next weekend and one of the stars of my last blog. She and Greg had been friends down in SD, at The Rock Church, working together in the Care and Concern ministry, then Cari started at Multnomah a semester behind Greg. It was wonderful seeing her that morning, but even more wonderful to see her get a special award! I would tell you what it was for, but I don't quite remember. I just know we were as proud as if she were our own!
Service over, we headed back to pick up John and enjoy the day before the big wingding that night. I should also point out one other, maybe very obvious, factor in our visit to Portland. We froze. Keep in mind that Don and I each grew up in Southern California. I lived in San Diego my whole life, and he was born and raised in So Cal, and except for some college years in Iowa, he lived in warmth, too. When the brisk winters of San Diego, where temps might plunge to the low 60's, became too much for us, we moved to Maui. Being a relatively smart person, I kept an assortment of warm clothing in the rv for our visits to the mainland. We would obviously need these warm items, given that the high was only supposed to be in the low 60's. Look just two lines above to see how we feel about that. Anyway, the day before we were flying up to Oregon, I asked Don to go get said cozy garments from the side storage outside. This would require bring the sideout in, since where we were at the time, Golden Village RV Park in beautiful downtown Hemet, had narrow sites with thick hedges lining each site. Our sideout, in which the storage locker resided, was firmly smooshed up next to the hedge, and one would need several jungle guides with machetes to get through - without pulling the side back in, that is. Clearing out of the way all the things that we put IN the way (little cocktail tables, suitcases, shoes, etc.), it was time to push the magic switch that would bring the side in. So, I pushed. The hydrolics that move entire sections of a nice little motorhome like ours make a high-pitched whiny sound as it expands our interior from an aisle with furniture to an actual living room. TAH-DAH!! The reverse is also true - push the magic switch, whiny sound emits, and your living room contracts down to a carpeted aisle with a sofa and lounge chair. TEE-DEE!! This time I pushed. All whine, no action. Tried again. The whine seemed to get more intense, as though the little man inside was pushing really, reeeeally hard. Nuthin'. Don went outside to offer encouragement to the reluctant sideout by pushing with all his might as I continued with the squealing, useless switch. It moved!! About an inch and a half. Suffice to say, we left for Portland without all the warm things that I had packed away for storage. I did have a pair of jeans, some cords, and three sweaters. Unfortunately, the sweaters were less about keep me warm than they were about keep me cute while looking like they were keeping me warm. Limited success on both points. I also had only open-toed shoes. Cute shoes, to be sure, but not so much about being warm.
Back to Friday. We took off for the afternoon to Mt. Tabor Park. Beautiful and green, and where the trees did not provide shade, there were carpets of yellow and white wildflowers. After a short (pant-pant!), easy (pant-puff-wheeze!), walk up the slope (puff-puff-GASP!!), we were blessed by a stunning view of Mt. Hood. Understand, this is a rare sight. In fact, of all the times in Portland, this is the first time we have ever seen Mt Hood in its full length pointyness. There were also lots of places to take artsy-fartsy pix of family - some that actually looked good! The best, of course, were of Amber - first after her father laid her in a field of wildflowers, and then when she did the sort of 3-year-old-vamp-over-the-shoulder-smolder. Smokin'!! Watch out, Kyle. Less than ten years 'til the teens.... After an easier descent, and some fun at the playground, it was time to get our favorite grad off to get pretty for his ceremony.
The commencement ceremony for Multnomah Bible College and Seminary was at a big church several miles south of Greg's house. Greg flew out before the rest of the gang - this time, the role of Kristin and the babies was being played by Uncle John. With only being a teeny bit late, we cruised in in time to take our seats then listen to a piano play "Pomp and Circumstance" - lovely, but lacked that swell and drama and tear-jerky stuff. I still managed to cry. Duh. The graduating classes of Multnomah aren't huge by any stretch, but considering how we were in second row, nosebleed, it was a little tough to pick out our boy. "Hey, he's the one in the black dress and the half a pizza box, with the lamp pull hanging from the corner, on his head!" Yeah, not so much. It wasn't until much....much....a whole buncha much later that we saw Greg stand with his class. Since his particular class, Master of Divinity (M Div, if you like to speak in shorthand or text talk), was the second to last of AAAALL the classes, so yes, it was much...much... later. When he came up, and his name was announced as he was to receive his hood, Greg's brothers reacted - by screaming like two twelve-year-old girls at a Justin Bieber concert. Two of Greg's roommates were sitting next to my other sons. I think they - and all strangers around them - deserved combat pay. As if the pre-pubescent female screams weren't enough, Kyle yelled out his location to Greg, and the entire mass of people. To the people at Rolling Hills Church attending the commencement ceremonies of Multnomah Bible College and Seminary on Friday, May 13, 2011...we, the parents, offer our sincerest apologies....and no explanation.
Commencing ceased, and we began the exciting game of "Find Your Graduate!". Easy, remember? Look for the guy in the black dress, half pizza box with lamp pull on head, and now, a beautiful satin hood - which, in actuality, looks more like a fancy stole sewed into a circle then looped around the graduate's neck like a backwards lei. But it is the coolest thing. Maybe ever. We finally found him and started snapping the requisite poses with family, friends, and innocent passers-by. We also found Cari, and took a couple of lovely shots of the two of them. Wait. Let me be honest here: Cari looked lovely. Greg looked like....Greg. This new recipient of his second Masters had his tassel in his mouth - which quickly got attached to the wad of chewing gum he'd been working over since before the ceremony. The next pix show him trying to free his shiny red tassel from the sticky glob. Ah, me...
The rest of the weekend flew by - we took the Max (their light rail) into the Saturday Market, and ate more wonderful bad food while enjoying the very colorful culture (and counter) along the Willamette...or Columbia - we're not sure which. But it was a river. The guys cooked steaks, then Kristin got to be free of the little ones and head with all the men to Greg's favorite pub for darts and a brew. Sunday morning, we watched Greg as worship leader at his church, where the pastor said it was "all about Greg" day, and officially dubbed him a bona fide Smarty Pants. After church, we walked in the rain (the Californians were the only one with umbrellas because Portlandians think they're silly) to the pastor's house, where a BBQ was given in Greg's honor. Impressive. Before giving thanks for the food, there was a "Time of Appreciation" for Greg, as one-by-one, folks told Greg what they appreciated about him. This could be the most wonderful gift any parent could receive - to know that others see their child as they do. And, yes, I cried. Do you really have to ask!?!? Then, dinner that night with our nephew, Phillip, and his lovely bride, Nicole - rather impressively pregnant with their first (she's in labor as I write this!! Go, Nic!!). Such a day. Such a weekend.
Monday came too quickly. Back to the airport. So fast. We hung out as long as we could with Greg (actually forgetting that we hadn't yet gone through security and we had a baby in a stroller. oops). As we were saying our last bye-byes to Gregory/Guncle, he said to me with a smile, "You know, I was looking at those professors with the fancy robes and hoods, and the floppy hats. I want to be one of them."
I'll get you for this, Mrs. Insko.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Two Weddings and a Graduation - Part 1
Looking out at the latest view, I am blessed to see blue skies with green trees and grass interspersed between the RV's...and then I cough my brains out and blow my nose again. Yes, I am sick. And feeling very sorry for myself. I do not make a good sick person. On top of that, we were supposed to sit with the grandbabies tonight so Kyle and Kristin could go to Bible study. So, I am sitting here trying to write while feeling all sick and pathetic while Don is putting babies to bed. Wait a minute....I can watch what I want on tv...I don't have to worry about crying babies or fallen na-na's or poopy diapers or getting worked by a completely adorable little con artist... I guess it's okay here, too.
So, as promised...or threatened.... I have to catch you up on all the fun stuff that we've been a part of - namely, as the title states, two weddings and a graduation. WHile I never, ever would have chosen the means and methods that God used to get us to these events, I am soooo glad He did!
May 7 was the day that my former business partner/friend/surrogate daughter, Autumn, married the man of her dreams, Tarkus Mossberg. Yes, that is his real name - and I have to say that the two of them looked like the cover of a romance novel. But before we get there... Understand, I haven't done a wedding for almost two years - and that was a low effort, barefoot-on-the-beach wedding with 20 guests. This was a backyard venue for about 150 guests. Autumn and Tarkus had rented a beautiful Victorian on about an acre in the Carlsbad/Vista/San Marcos area. The pictures looked amazing. Unfortunately, it turned out to be like an airbrushed picture of a supermodel - not bearing up under close scrutiny. Oh, it looked pretty enough at first glance, but the large trees that had been pruned down to utter nakedness. Some looked like Stonehenge, while others had some growth at the end of gigantic limbs - the green pompoms making them looking like poodle trees, or some invention of Dr. Seuss. The grounds had slope to them, and we knew we had to set 160 chairs to fit the slope and space. What we weren't prepared for was a lawn totally landscaped and furrowed by gophers! On paper, the chair layout was lovely. In the real world, many of our chairs were so lopsided and wonky that they came with their own warning labels. I had to instruct the ushers carefully that before they seated any guests in one of the tipsy chairs to 1) make sure that the guest looked fairly nimble and balanced, and 2) warn said guest about the wonk factor in the chair they were about to set their tushy in.
After setting lights and hanging pomanders on Thursday, then setting chairs and more lights on Friday, it was time for the rehearsal late in the afternoon on Friday - and time for The Coordinator. I've only had the pleasure of coordinating a couple of weddings, and I happen to love rehearsals. If everyone leaves knowing what they're supposed to do, and have had fun learning all those things, then I've done my job. We all had fun, but only the next day would tell if I had made everyone secure in what they were supposed to do. Of course, I had to make sure that i knew what was going on. Tarkus' parents split many years ago and remarried a few years after that. These guys all get along and love their son very much. The only problem ws that during the rehearsal, I sent the wrong dad in after the wrong mom. oopsie.
I should mention that during this time, we were still out in Hemet (pardon me while I shudder just a little bit.... blleeeeeuuuuuw....ok....better now), and we decided to stay at affordable lodging nearby. Don got a great deal on on of those Extended Stay America things. Basic, but clean and close to where we needed to be. So, on the morning of the big day, we were up and out before 8:00 a.m. I should also mention that all my wedding-ish stuff is still in storage in Maui, so I had to find wedding-ish stuff for pert near nuthin', and being the coordinator, it meant to find something cute and black and comfy...for pert near nuthin'. Mission accomplished, and now we were toting all things wedding-ish, trying to remember all the girlie and coordinator-y things that I would need throughout the day.
We walked into the venue at 8:20-something and got to it right away - staging banquet tables, placing tables for the cocktail and buffet areas, and setting up a small table for the Unity Candle ceremony. This meant covering a highboy table with linens and placing the candles on said table. We had an audience. No, I'm not speaking of the grooms little nieces that were trying to be oh-so-helpful (I had them become my official potty sign makers....don't ask - long story). No, the audience of which I speak was the little furry landscaper that had made setting up so...challenging. Frankly, I had no idea that gophers were so cute! And this guy was right under the table legs, and close to our bare feet. Don and I tried pitching stuff at him to send him back into his little home in fear. Nope. This little dude bobbed and weaved like a miniature, fuzzy Mohammed Ali. Where is Bill Murray when you need him!?!?
Autumn and Tarkus put together and hard-working team to bring Autumn's vision to life. Seems right. When this bride worked for me the first time, it was for Kyle and Kristin's wedding over five years ago, and this young woman looked at my sketches and directions and made it all come alive. Autumn had made every centerpiece, pomander, and boutonniere, and my job was just to get it in place, with the help of so many, then get the show on the road.
funny thing about rehearsals is that they don't always look like the real thing. By an 45 minutes before the ceremony. we didn't have a photographer yet, and we needed her to get there so our bride could get dressed. This was not a good start. By the time the photog did arrive, guests had started arriving as well, and it became a frenzy of directing traffic, putting out fires, and checking the time - which was flying well past the start time for the ceremony! I loved the creativity of the photographer, but when one wants to be that creative, one should show up earlier! In the meantime, our officiant was pacing on the side of the house, sweltering in his black robe. I had told him to walk out with the groom and his guys as soon as the mother of the bride was seated. In the meantime, I had a very nervous bridesmaid who was afraid of not knowing when to go, since she was the first of the girls to go out. I assured her that I would send her at the perfect time. well. You know that whole "good intentions" adage!?!? Well, this may not have been the road to Hell, but it may have felt that way for a while for poor Stephanie. Mom of Bride was seated, and I gently sent the eager bridesmaid. Unfortunately, I had not noticed that the officiant and the gang hadn't even cleared the driveway yet, and when they did, their easy saunter was no match for the bridesmaid's near-sprint. Before I knew it, the young lady was standing up there, smiling like all get-out, as the pastor and his entourage were strolling like cowboys fresh off the trail moseying into the local saloon. I sent the next girl out simply to keep the first one company, because by that point I was wondering if the officiant realized that he had a very eager bridegroom behind him. I'm surprised that the six-foot-zillion Tarkus didn't pick up the rather slight pastor and run with him to the altar. But they all made it, and Tarkus stood there, a handsome sight in his gray cutaway, waiting for his bride. My job was not even close to being over as I had to keep the father of the bride from leaving the house without his date - the star of the show! But he stepped back in to fetch this radiant girl, and Tarkus and Autumn had their moment of just looking at each other before I had the extraordinary joy and blessing of sending this girl to meet her husband-to-be. I fluffed her train and cathedral veil - only to have the lumpy grass mess with the train and the wind blow the veil - but she was perfection!
After all the I do's were done, it was time to get ready for the party! WOOT-WOOT!! This meant carrying 16 tables that had been partially set in the morning over to the lumpy bumpy slopey lawn from the staging area. Again, I was blessed with about a million and three helpers, and oh, were they needed! Once again, the layout on paper had nearly no resemblance to the Super-3-D reality. We would set out a table based on the desired placement, only to have one leg drop into a hole or be wedged on to a lump. Serious wonkage. We eventually did get the tables laid out, but the resulting look was one of small, tight gatherings of people who were so far removed from the other groups that the only possible way to chat with any at the other tables was either text messages or drum beats.
The other speedbump was the matter of a deejay - which there wasn't one of as of two weeks before the wedding. An iPod was being loaded up to handle the dance music, but that still left the matter of an MC. So, our son, Kyle was recruited! Now, those of you familiar with my sons know that they are not prone to embarrassment. In isn't even in their genetic makeup. So, Kyle got himself all prepared, excited, and practiced for the big announcements. And then he came down with a MRSA (a superbug infection) on his head. At first, we thought that we were going to have to go with a Plan B, but fortunately, his determination got him therre. Showing up with a bandage on his already broken nose (since he was a kid), a black sportcoat, and a black fedora, he looked more like a hitman than an enthusiastic MC.
So, we had a thuggish-looking announcer, but he was awesome - funny and energetic. Our tables were clustered oddly. But it worked. And it was wonderful. And as we staggered back to our sparce but safe hotel room, I asked my beloved husband, who worked side-by-side with me every step of the way..."Now how much do you love YOUR job, now?"
While there was a graduation in between, I'll get to the next wedding first - which was this last Saturday. We had moved from Hemet to Pechanga to...the cul-de-sac in front of the kids place. Don's and my involvement was fairly minimal, but we did volunteer to hold the spot on the beach until the coordinator got there. We also provided the music in the form of my iPod and portable speaker, which meant we had to meet the bride in Coronado by 8:00 am. This meant that we had to leave here about 6:30. No biggie. I planned to shower and do my hair and makeup before we left. No problem. No. Problem. I seemed to have forgotten the minor issue of NO POWER!! Oh, sure, we have a generator, but we didn't think the neighbors would appreciate a sound akin to the giant lawnmowers used on golfcourses and football fields. So....I went down to meet the bride with my hair still a bit soggy and dressed for work.
the ceremony itself was rather small, so after the coordinator arrived, we took off for the reception. Newlywed Autumn and her new husband were very involved in the decorating of the reception since it was a) at their condo clubhouse, and b) that's her business!! We all had a blast setting up - in fact, almost too much for the poor coordinator, who was a good friend of the bride's, and has a coordinating business in Orange county. By and large, the team putting together the reception had worked together many times and know how to get things done while laughing and chatting and looking like we don't take it seriously. Of course, we do, but it must not look like that to someone who is not familiar with the goofy way we work! But she figured it out in short order. The day and evening were once again amazing.
There are a few things that these weddings had in common. For one, there were many of the same people at Cari and Trevor's wedding as were at Autumn and Tarkus'. I've learned, also, that this church they all attend is fantastic at turning to and getting things done without being asked twice. The fact that these two brides were two women that I would have chosen for my sons is also somewhat ironic. I still don't know why we don't have arranged marriages...Who cares what the kids think...!??! Yes, I'm a little bitter....
Most importantly, both weddings had the Lord Jesus Christ as the cornerstone. It was so apparent at every turn. And we were blessed to have partaken in any way.
So, as promised...or threatened.... I have to catch you up on all the fun stuff that we've been a part of - namely, as the title states, two weddings and a graduation. WHile I never, ever would have chosen the means and methods that God used to get us to these events, I am soooo glad He did!
May 7 was the day that my former business partner/friend/surrogate daughter, Autumn, married the man of her dreams, Tarkus Mossberg. Yes, that is his real name - and I have to say that the two of them looked like the cover of a romance novel. But before we get there... Understand, I haven't done a wedding for almost two years - and that was a low effort, barefoot-on-the-beach wedding with 20 guests. This was a backyard venue for about 150 guests. Autumn and Tarkus had rented a beautiful Victorian on about an acre in the Carlsbad/Vista/San Marcos area. The pictures looked amazing. Unfortunately, it turned out to be like an airbrushed picture of a supermodel - not bearing up under close scrutiny. Oh, it looked pretty enough at first glance, but the large trees that had been pruned down to utter nakedness. Some looked like Stonehenge, while others had some growth at the end of gigantic limbs - the green pompoms making them looking like poodle trees, or some invention of Dr. Seuss. The grounds had slope to them, and we knew we had to set 160 chairs to fit the slope and space. What we weren't prepared for was a lawn totally landscaped and furrowed by gophers! On paper, the chair layout was lovely. In the real world, many of our chairs were so lopsided and wonky that they came with their own warning labels. I had to instruct the ushers carefully that before they seated any guests in one of the tipsy chairs to 1) make sure that the guest looked fairly nimble and balanced, and 2) warn said guest about the wonk factor in the chair they were about to set their tushy in.
After setting lights and hanging pomanders on Thursday, then setting chairs and more lights on Friday, it was time for the rehearsal late in the afternoon on Friday - and time for The Coordinator. I've only had the pleasure of coordinating a couple of weddings, and I happen to love rehearsals. If everyone leaves knowing what they're supposed to do, and have had fun learning all those things, then I've done my job. We all had fun, but only the next day would tell if I had made everyone secure in what they were supposed to do. Of course, I had to make sure that i knew what was going on. Tarkus' parents split many years ago and remarried a few years after that. These guys all get along and love their son very much. The only problem ws that during the rehearsal, I sent the wrong dad in after the wrong mom. oopsie.
I should mention that during this time, we were still out in Hemet (pardon me while I shudder just a little bit.... blleeeeeuuuuuw....ok....better now), and we decided to stay at affordable lodging nearby. Don got a great deal on on of those Extended Stay America things. Basic, but clean and close to where we needed to be. So, on the morning of the big day, we were up and out before 8:00 a.m. I should also mention that all my wedding-ish stuff is still in storage in Maui, so I had to find wedding-ish stuff for pert near nuthin', and being the coordinator, it meant to find something cute and black and comfy...for pert near nuthin'. Mission accomplished, and now we were toting all things wedding-ish, trying to remember all the girlie and coordinator-y things that I would need throughout the day.
We walked into the venue at 8:20-something and got to it right away - staging banquet tables, placing tables for the cocktail and buffet areas, and setting up a small table for the Unity Candle ceremony. This meant covering a highboy table with linens and placing the candles on said table. We had an audience. No, I'm not speaking of the grooms little nieces that were trying to be oh-so-helpful (I had them become my official potty sign makers....don't ask - long story). No, the audience of which I speak was the little furry landscaper that had made setting up so...challenging. Frankly, I had no idea that gophers were so cute! And this guy was right under the table legs, and close to our bare feet. Don and I tried pitching stuff at him to send him back into his little home in fear. Nope. This little dude bobbed and weaved like a miniature, fuzzy Mohammed Ali. Where is Bill Murray when you need him!?!?
Autumn and Tarkus put together and hard-working team to bring Autumn's vision to life. Seems right. When this bride worked for me the first time, it was for Kyle and Kristin's wedding over five years ago, and this young woman looked at my sketches and directions and made it all come alive. Autumn had made every centerpiece, pomander, and boutonniere, and my job was just to get it in place, with the help of so many, then get the show on the road.
funny thing about rehearsals is that they don't always look like the real thing. By an 45 minutes before the ceremony. we didn't have a photographer yet, and we needed her to get there so our bride could get dressed. This was not a good start. By the time the photog did arrive, guests had started arriving as well, and it became a frenzy of directing traffic, putting out fires, and checking the time - which was flying well past the start time for the ceremony! I loved the creativity of the photographer, but when one wants to be that creative, one should show up earlier! In the meantime, our officiant was pacing on the side of the house, sweltering in his black robe. I had told him to walk out with the groom and his guys as soon as the mother of the bride was seated. In the meantime, I had a very nervous bridesmaid who was afraid of not knowing when to go, since she was the first of the girls to go out. I assured her that I would send her at the perfect time. well. You know that whole "good intentions" adage!?!? Well, this may not have been the road to Hell, but it may have felt that way for a while for poor Stephanie. Mom of Bride was seated, and I gently sent the eager bridesmaid. Unfortunately, I had not noticed that the officiant and the gang hadn't even cleared the driveway yet, and when they did, their easy saunter was no match for the bridesmaid's near-sprint. Before I knew it, the young lady was standing up there, smiling like all get-out, as the pastor and his entourage were strolling like cowboys fresh off the trail moseying into the local saloon. I sent the next girl out simply to keep the first one company, because by that point I was wondering if the officiant realized that he had a very eager bridegroom behind him. I'm surprised that the six-foot-zillion Tarkus didn't pick up the rather slight pastor and run with him to the altar. But they all made it, and Tarkus stood there, a handsome sight in his gray cutaway, waiting for his bride. My job was not even close to being over as I had to keep the father of the bride from leaving the house without his date - the star of the show! But he stepped back in to fetch this radiant girl, and Tarkus and Autumn had their moment of just looking at each other before I had the extraordinary joy and blessing of sending this girl to meet her husband-to-be. I fluffed her train and cathedral veil - only to have the lumpy grass mess with the train and the wind blow the veil - but she was perfection!
After all the I do's were done, it was time to get ready for the party! WOOT-WOOT!! This meant carrying 16 tables that had been partially set in the morning over to the lumpy bumpy slopey lawn from the staging area. Again, I was blessed with about a million and three helpers, and oh, were they needed! Once again, the layout on paper had nearly no resemblance to the Super-3-D reality. We would set out a table based on the desired placement, only to have one leg drop into a hole or be wedged on to a lump. Serious wonkage. We eventually did get the tables laid out, but the resulting look was one of small, tight gatherings of people who were so far removed from the other groups that the only possible way to chat with any at the other tables was either text messages or drum beats.
The other speedbump was the matter of a deejay - which there wasn't one of as of two weeks before the wedding. An iPod was being loaded up to handle the dance music, but that still left the matter of an MC. So, our son, Kyle was recruited! Now, those of you familiar with my sons know that they are not prone to embarrassment. In isn't even in their genetic makeup. So, Kyle got himself all prepared, excited, and practiced for the big announcements. And then he came down with a MRSA (a superbug infection) on his head. At first, we thought that we were going to have to go with a Plan B, but fortunately, his determination got him therre. Showing up with a bandage on his already broken nose (since he was a kid), a black sportcoat, and a black fedora, he looked more like a hitman than an enthusiastic MC.
So, we had a thuggish-looking announcer, but he was awesome - funny and energetic. Our tables were clustered oddly. But it worked. And it was wonderful. And as we staggered back to our sparce but safe hotel room, I asked my beloved husband, who worked side-by-side with me every step of the way..."Now how much do you love YOUR job, now?"
While there was a graduation in between, I'll get to the next wedding first - which was this last Saturday. We had moved from Hemet to Pechanga to...the cul-de-sac in front of the kids place. Don's and my involvement was fairly minimal, but we did volunteer to hold the spot on the beach until the coordinator got there. We also provided the music in the form of my iPod and portable speaker, which meant we had to meet the bride in Coronado by 8:00 am. This meant that we had to leave here about 6:30. No biggie. I planned to shower and do my hair and makeup before we left. No problem. No. Problem. I seemed to have forgotten the minor issue of NO POWER!! Oh, sure, we have a generator, but we didn't think the neighbors would appreciate a sound akin to the giant lawnmowers used on golfcourses and football fields. So....I went down to meet the bride with my hair still a bit soggy and dressed for work.
the ceremony itself was rather small, so after the coordinator arrived, we took off for the reception. Newlywed Autumn and her new husband were very involved in the decorating of the reception since it was a) at their condo clubhouse, and b) that's her business!! We all had a blast setting up - in fact, almost too much for the poor coordinator, who was a good friend of the bride's, and has a coordinating business in Orange county. By and large, the team putting together the reception had worked together many times and know how to get things done while laughing and chatting and looking like we don't take it seriously. Of course, we do, but it must not look like that to someone who is not familiar with the goofy way we work! But she figured it out in short order. The day and evening were once again amazing.
There are a few things that these weddings had in common. For one, there were many of the same people at Cari and Trevor's wedding as were at Autumn and Tarkus'. I've learned, also, that this church they all attend is fantastic at turning to and getting things done without being asked twice. The fact that these two brides were two women that I would have chosen for my sons is also somewhat ironic. I still don't know why we don't have arranged marriages...Who cares what the kids think...!??! Yes, I'm a little bitter....
Most importantly, both weddings had the Lord Jesus Christ as the cornerstone. It was so apparent at every turn. And we were blessed to have partaken in any way.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Bits and Pieces, Moments and Minutiae
No heavy-duty-my-life-is-a-trial-oh-poor-me stuff this time. Just....silly stuff...
Let's start by marking our 36th day on the mainland. But who's counting? We have moved from the Golden Village RV Park, which in truth is a trailer/mobile home park. For over 55ers. In the desert. In Hemet. We discovered quickly that we had to go THROUGH the boondocks to get there, and since the gas prices are roughly the same as Hawaii, plus we don't want to put any further wear and tear on Don's car since we hope to sell it before returning home to Maui. Wow. Run-on sentence. Anyway. The sites were also too small and full of gravel, which meant no grandson could visit. It was risky enough having our rock-gathering granddaughter visiting, but her rock-chucking brother would be beyond dangerous. I must also confess that I am not a fan of deserts or the over-55 types places. As far as the latter, I like the little families that you find in RV parks and campgrounds. Often, Don and I will see a little family of cuties, and we kind of secretly adopt them. Not as creepy as it sounds, trust me. We also love the energy of a park that is filled with adventurous spirits - and big rigs that we enjoy lusting after. Nothing against the lovely people of Golden Village, but...a lot of the adventure seemed to be the indoor shuffleboard and Rascal Scooter drag races. As far as deserts, I must admit, I don't like them. At all. I understand that there are lovers of every type of topography and landscape - tree-covered mountains, vast prairies and plains, or rugged coastlines, big, vibrant cities or small towns...or a small, tropical island. My mom is among those who love the desert - the austere and hostile looking terrain that looks devoid of life, but upon closer examination, or a drenching rain, shows itself to be full of life. But I still don't like deserts. There were plenty of Palm trees - but these, unlike the coconut trees that look like they are in a perpetual state of hula, these date palms stand straight as an arrow, and their fronds are as stiff as a laquered feather duster.
So now we are in our favorite RV park. It's near the kids - only about ten minutes away as opposed to thirty or forty - and it's sites are large and grassy. It's quite popular. For that reason, we are having to leave it tomorrow and park on the street near Kyle and Kristin's or in the nearest Walmart. It seems that for the next three weekends, this place is sold out. oops. But, after June 6, we should be able to be here for a month...then have to leave for a night...then return for another 29 days....back to Walmart for a night...return here for another 29 days - and then we have to be out for at least six months. Hopefully, we'll be returning to Maui by then, so it won't be an issue, but you get the point. We're not going to get any moss under our feet - or wheels - while we are here on the mainland.
There have been a couple other big things on our busy social calendar: my friend and business partner, Autumn's wedding, and #2 son, Greg's, graduation.
Egad. Just looked at the time. It's almost 1:00 a.m. I'll have to write about Autumn's wedding and Greg's graduation another time. I'd better get some sleep. I'm moving tomorrow. Again.
Let's start by marking our 36th day on the mainland. But who's counting? We have moved from the Golden Village RV Park, which in truth is a trailer/mobile home park. For over 55ers. In the desert. In Hemet. We discovered quickly that we had to go THROUGH the boondocks to get there, and since the gas prices are roughly the same as Hawaii, plus we don't want to put any further wear and tear on Don's car since we hope to sell it before returning home to Maui. Wow. Run-on sentence. Anyway. The sites were also too small and full of gravel, which meant no grandson could visit. It was risky enough having our rock-gathering granddaughter visiting, but her rock-chucking brother would be beyond dangerous. I must also confess that I am not a fan of deserts or the over-55 types places. As far as the latter, I like the little families that you find in RV parks and campgrounds. Often, Don and I will see a little family of cuties, and we kind of secretly adopt them. Not as creepy as it sounds, trust me. We also love the energy of a park that is filled with adventurous spirits - and big rigs that we enjoy lusting after. Nothing against the lovely people of Golden Village, but...a lot of the adventure seemed to be the indoor shuffleboard and Rascal Scooter drag races. As far as deserts, I must admit, I don't like them. At all. I understand that there are lovers of every type of topography and landscape - tree-covered mountains, vast prairies and plains, or rugged coastlines, big, vibrant cities or small towns...or a small, tropical island. My mom is among those who love the desert - the austere and hostile looking terrain that looks devoid of life, but upon closer examination, or a drenching rain, shows itself to be full of life. But I still don't like deserts. There were plenty of Palm trees - but these, unlike the coconut trees that look like they are in a perpetual state of hula, these date palms stand straight as an arrow, and their fronds are as stiff as a laquered feather duster.
So now we are in our favorite RV park. It's near the kids - only about ten minutes away as opposed to thirty or forty - and it's sites are large and grassy. It's quite popular. For that reason, we are having to leave it tomorrow and park on the street near Kyle and Kristin's or in the nearest Walmart. It seems that for the next three weekends, this place is sold out. oops. But, after June 6, we should be able to be here for a month...then have to leave for a night...then return for another 29 days....back to Walmart for a night...return here for another 29 days - and then we have to be out for at least six months. Hopefully, we'll be returning to Maui by then, so it won't be an issue, but you get the point. We're not going to get any moss under our feet - or wheels - while we are here on the mainland.
There have been a couple other big things on our busy social calendar: my friend and business partner, Autumn's wedding, and #2 son, Greg's, graduation.
Egad. Just looked at the time. It's almost 1:00 a.m. I'll have to write about Autumn's wedding and Greg's graduation another time. I'd better get some sleep. I'm moving tomorrow. Again.
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