Well, it was NOT dull. My daughter's boyfriend kind of spoiled things for us by pulling one of those "Uh, I guess I'm not coming after all" things that just wreck a holiday. And the Baby, (actually a Big Girl of 3), managed to share not only love, but her case of croup. Both Gramma, (me), and Pappa are wheezy and runny now.
On the upside, I also got to talk to my Aunt. She's 93, and our efforts at conversation on the phone were somewhat hindered by her 2 hearing aids, so she ended up telling me, "Maria, you'll have to email me, I can't hear you with these things, and I can't hear you without them!" So I made sure to email her first thing when I got home. It's really great, because, due to a familial upset/misunderstanding about 30 years ago, we hadn't been in touch. I'm ecstatic that I have had the chance to reopen the door with her. I have to admit, too, I get a kick out of my 93-year-old Auntie telling me I need to email her!
I also had the unexpected pleasure of being able to help my son get his stuff started for Voc. Rehab. Who would have guessed a government office would be open the day after Thanksgiving?
So, to trot out the cliches, what am I thankful for this year? A daughter who still appreciates my cooking, even if it's HER kitchen I'm tearin' up; a chance to help my son get the help he needs; a grand daughter who's more than worth the risk of a virus; relatives of various descriptions who, no matter how far away in time or space, are always close; a husband who's proving that the 3rd time really is the charm.
Next cliche: What do I want for Yule? Hmmm...let me see....
Monday, November 26, 2007
Friday, November 16, 2007
Blogging is something new for me, so, anyone reading this, I say in advance, I appreciate your patience. I was fluffing around the net, one evening, and discovered my favorite actor has, in the past, blogged here. I said to myself, "Maybe blogging is something I should try," so that's why I'm here.
I live in a little town in Northern AZ. When I first moved here some years back, we were, quite literally, 75 miles from anywhere. Since then, towns have grown, including this one, and now we're more like 45 miles from anywhere. I worked for a long time in a combination hardware store/tourist trap/snack bar near the town's western exit of I-40, and learned to give directions in a big way: "Going to Prescott? Go to Ashfork and hang a right," or, more often, "Going to the Grand Canyon? Go to Williams and turn left." Sometimes even this kind of simplicity seems to be more than our guests can grasp; I refer to those (sometimes literally) lost souls as Vacant Vacationers. They went on vacation and forgot to pack their brains. For these ones, directions to the restroom can be overly challenging. The giftshop where I work now has a view of the men's room door as you enter the building, and also a sign over the hallway arch that says "restroom," and people will still come and ask me where the bathroom is. And they're not wearing sunglasses. Completely on autopilot.
I mention in my profile that I like needle arts of various sorts. It's probably more accurate to say I am a freak about crochet and embroidery. Anybody out there do Hardanger? I'm just getting started with it. Scarcity of patterns inclines me to think it's a "dying" art.
I live in a little town in Northern AZ. When I first moved here some years back, we were, quite literally, 75 miles from anywhere. Since then, towns have grown, including this one, and now we're more like 45 miles from anywhere. I worked for a long time in a combination hardware store/tourist trap/snack bar near the town's western exit of I-40, and learned to give directions in a big way: "Going to Prescott? Go to Ashfork and hang a right," or, more often, "Going to the Grand Canyon? Go to Williams and turn left." Sometimes even this kind of simplicity seems to be more than our guests can grasp; I refer to those (sometimes literally) lost souls as Vacant Vacationers. They went on vacation and forgot to pack their brains. For these ones, directions to the restroom can be overly challenging. The giftshop where I work now has a view of the men's room door as you enter the building, and also a sign over the hallway arch that says "restroom," and people will still come and ask me where the bathroom is. And they're not wearing sunglasses. Completely on autopilot.
I mention in my profile that I like needle arts of various sorts. It's probably more accurate to say I am a freak about crochet and embroidery. Anybody out there do Hardanger? I'm just getting started with it. Scarcity of patterns inclines me to think it's a "dying" art.
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