THE DUST WILL WAIT

Dinkum Devo: Grandma ..... Grandma....  Grandma walks from the kitchen into the family room where Dinkum is on his knees by the coffee table, elbow on coffee table, head on hand. Grandma: What sweetie? Dinkum: Can I take my hand off my head yet? Grandma: What?  Dinkum: Can I take my hand off my head yet? Grandma: Well of course... why do you have  your hand on your head ... is this some kind of game? Dinkum: Grandpa told me to hold my hand on my head. Grandma: Oh. Well, sure take your hand off your head. Later grandma asks grandpa if he told Dinkum to hold his hand on his head. Grandpa looked puzzled briefly, then he began to chuckle.  "No, when I walked through the room and he was making all those star war noises I told him that grandma had a headache and he needed to keep those noises inside his head for awhile." * * * * * * * Grandma is reading "How Do Dinosaur's say Goodnight" to Z-bub, Dinkum, and Mizelle. Dinkum Devo: Grandma, were ...

Last Saturday morning a fruit fly did a swan dive into my cooked oatmeal with raisins.  I was able to scoop him out immediately. Later, while chewing, I started worrying that it might have been a synchronized swimming event.

It was 1990, and my nephew Matt was in love. It’s a love story that needs to be told. But, not today. No. This story is about a brisk October night in Arkansas. A short story that, 22 years later, still has enough chill to send shivers down your back. The kind of story that finds its way into conversations when family gets together and someone always asks, do you remember when….. Matt took a year off of college to work as a park ranger at Camp Yorktown Bay. Angel, the love of his life, lived in Arkansas and that was where he wanted to be – close to her. On a weekend off  Matt would drive three hours up Highway 7 , a scenic byway that is flagged by the State's Tourism promotions. However, the often late night runs would emphasize the curves and the dark lonely miles through forests and mountains that were only illuminated by occasional habitations. The aging ‘78 Toyota Corolla that took him on each journey had belonged to his parents, and it had a puzzling problem with the e...

Aunt Delores will be 92 this year. She doesn't seem old at all.  I stopped to see her this weekend and she shared a story from 1938 when she and my mama's youngest brother were sweethearts. Delores and Bill loved to sing and, along with other family, were members of a choir at a considerably large Seattle church.  When the choir raised money for a private cruise up to Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, there were no objections for lack of chaperones and they looked forward to a romantic trip. She didn't remember why, but the ship acquired for the trip was an old wooden sub-chaser. It must have been decommissioned and purchased by the private company.    Although the trip today can be made in several hours in one of the modern fast speed ferries, back then it was a much longer voyage.  It became very apparent when they set sail that the small warship, already a bucking bronco, was not equipped to be graceful in the stormy swells and would reek rev...

Curlymop is so pleased to be a big sister.  Her baby brother, Squeak, was born on June 8, 2012 weighing 8 pounds 13 ounces. He gave us a big scare when he entered the world -  breathing problems.  Fortunately, he was in a hospital that had a superb medical staff that figured out the problem. Within 16 hours he was back in his mother's arms. Because of that early complication he has seen his pediatrician twice since birth.  On day four they noted that he weighed almost 9 pounds.  Then on day ten he had grown to 10 pounds 8 ounces.  Newborns rarely sustain their birth weight the first week, and often lose weight.    I've accused his "mama" (my daughter) of being  a Jersey Girl.  If you know anything about butter fat, you'll know I'm not referring to any of those reality shows.  We are all very happy.       

Last year I posted a photo at the first of each month of these three grandchildren that are growing up in our valley.  I'm sorry I haven't remained so faithful. But, on this first day of June the hot summer sun came out to invite them to run and laugh and to beg grandpa and grandma to turn on the sprinkler.   The camera came out, too. Murrieta 365 hosted the 1st of the Month Meme.

The Saturday before Mother's Day we stayed busy so it wasn't until late in the afternoon that we walked to the front door. "What's that?" pointed my husband. We rushed over there to find a long rectangular box with a familiar trademark and the logo of Hermes, a Greek god. "FLOWERS!" I cried. After grabbing the box right out of my husband's hands I rushed into the house.  Of course I knew they were for me. Together we opened it and then looked at each other with certain chagrin.  All the flowers were wilted and stressed. The rose buds hung loosely and their petals were brown edged with burns. It was a hot day. We had been in the mountains for half of it.  Our front door faces west and gets a nice round of sun for part of the afternoon.  Certainly they had been delivered and left on the concrete for much of that time. My husband prepared the flowers; clipped off the ends and arranged them in the enclosed beautiful glass vase.  I added the...