Changes

Watching the news tonight and am  trying to wrap my brain around a world without Hostess.  Perhaps because I can't think of my dearest Granny Lyons without eventually recalling her favorite Hostess variation, the HO-HO, and remembering both fondly.  Honestly,although I shared a few Ho-Ho's,  I never tasted the rave....but, still,  the whole concept of a chocolate covered chocolate cake filled with more whippy sugar represents perfection.  A perfection that I will miss.  Their whole line of tasty treats was marketed brilliantly in my opinion....even though ( I confess) I've never purchased a box of any of their concoctions. But what comfort they've given me over the years, in their white wax covered boxes, setting a happy standard of what will always be available.   DING- DONGS.  TWINKIES.  HO-HO's.  WONDER BREAD. SUZY Q's.  Brilliance.    I'm happy just saying the words and knowing they are there if I should happen to want them.   Crazy, but I'm  a little bit sad to hear they will soon be gone for good.  

CELEBRATE

October 30th.
What a glorious day to celebrate being born.
Back in 1954, my parents welcomed their second child into the world on this date.   I can only imagine how complete their life must have felt when Richard Lynn made his entrance into the world.  Hazy pictures, saved in shoe boxes over the years, provide necessary proof that it  all really was wonderful. 
Not perfect.
But wonderful.  
When Rick was eight, I was born.  Of course I never realized  the good fortune of being the baby sister until about now (I was 24 years old when he was killed in a logging accident and  I'm almost 50 now.  Sheesh.  Weird "half time" math mixed up in there....yikes... It's about time to celebrate!) 
I raise my glass to you, BlueBird. 
THANK YOU FOR BEING MY BROTHER!
Never ever once did I wonder how you felt about me.  You thought I was the greatest  and I knew it.  You took me under your own broken wing when our mom died by encouraging me to dry my tears and get ready for school each day. (I was 7, you were 15. IMAGINE). I liked it when you drove me around in your car with the windows down and the music up.  Way up. You trusted me with "our secret" when I discovered you smoking cigarettes at the bus stop!!   You carried me to safety when I fell off a bridge (breaking the "don't ride your bike across the bridge" rule in a rather dramatic way). You didn't pause or hesitate for a moment wondering how to save me.  You reacted the way any ordinary hero would and I felt safe.    Rick, you were the first "guest"  I saw on my wedding day as I prepared to walk down the isle....simply because you were arriving just in the nick of time!!   We met face to face and you beamed a reassuring smile in that moment that  I will never forget.  I loved  the way I felt seeing you there, approving of my choice and telling me everything would be alright.

The last time I saw my brother, I had baked him a birthday cake and delivered it to the hunting party he was a part of in Ukiah.  He had bagged an elk just prior to our arrival and he was elated. We sat around the campfire whoopin' and hollerin' about the days events. As the evening wore on, he talked about his children. Alot.   He was tickled with the souveniers he would be bringing back to them and, eventually,  he said he couldn't wait for me to have children.  He didn't have to convince me of his adoration and love for his children.  Selfishly, though, I still feel so fortunate that he longed for me to experience that same profound joy that made him complete.

It's pretty awesome to be loved. 


Tonight I celebrate being the little  sister of one EXTREMELY loving guy who taught me that if you love someone, let them know! And go on right ahead:  LOVE THEM UNCONDITIONALLY!  Protect them. Encourage them.  Save them when they need saving.  Roll the windows down and turn the radio up.  Sing along.  Make up words.  Smile Big.  Trust the people you love with your secrets and your shortcomings.  Tell them of your joys. 

SCHOOL PICTURE DAY

Today was picture day at the school where I am blessed to be employed.  Oh the frenzy of forgotten order forms & misplaced dollars!  Oh the nervous excitement of seeing the flash (it's so bright you can HEAR it!) and the anticipation of being "next".....
I asked a group of 3rd graders "why do you think we take photographs at school?"  Among the delightful responses, one little boy said "so our parents can remember what we looked like when we move out and get our own house".

Indeed and Amen. 

 What a delight it is to remember.  A single image can take you right  back to the days when you were living happily. ever. after. 
(if you are lucky....and I am!)   

 This is Benjamin in first grade.  He chose his shirt with care, and even though it wasn't an authentic "Hickory"  (like the one of his dreams)  this picture captures the spirit of the happiest boy in my life.  I like everything about his picture - other than the fact that on this blog,  it's looking rather blurry.  The image  conjures the best of memories.  The best.    When I look at this picture, I can feel myself sitting outside his first grade classroom with all the other mom's, waiting for the bell to ring.  I can see CLEARLY, my wonderful, silly son chirping like a bird on his way to receive his "knows more about science than the teacher" award he received on the last day of school.  I can hear the little neighbor boys who lived across the street but spent countless hours on our sidewalk at 830 Territorial sharing the endless hours between after school and time for dinner routine.

 This is MaryAnne Rachelle in third grade.  The outfit she wore was a hand.me.down skirt outfit  from her cousins Stacy & Amanda.  It was a  very favorite of mine.  She wore it with the cutest brown lace up boots you can imagine.  Doesn't she look like a confident, secure, and smart little cookie?  When I see this picture, I am driving a carload of girls to "on your toes" dance class and hearing MaryAnne tell her friend "I have a cousin who is prettier than Miss America".   Chapter books, sticker books galore!, stashes of colored pencils and markers, reams of paper and "Michelle" on  Friday night television.  I remember it all. And it is sweet.

This is me in 3rd grade. Dressed  up in my very best  favorite "maxi" dress of all time.  The long skirt portion of this frock was a perfect patchwork of prints & the black buttons on top made it a smart match with my multi-purpose, wear them every single day black shoes.  My teacher, Mrs. Kabler, was the single most feared teacher in elementary school yet she turned out to be my favorite.  I absolutely loved learning to measure with a ruler in 3rd grade.  Singing top 40 hit songs (with teacher  Bev Evanson) during music was the ultimate.  What --  with that darling maxi-dress, I was  practically, almost practicing  DAILY to be back up for the Partridge Family!

Here's hoping YOU are in the middle of making wonderful school picture day memories or that you have your fair share looking back at you.

10 Things You Might Not Know About Me.


This is not an original IDEA, but rather a suggestion from a girl who wrote a book titled "this i know....notes on unraveling the heart.  Her name is Susannah Conway and (drum roll, please) tomorrow I get to meet  her!  It's a date my daughter dreamed up and I am so excited.  ANYWAY.  Just in case Susannah asks, I want to say "YES! I have tried out some of the suggestions in your book".  And if she asks, I will say "YES! I am living bravely and truthfully." 

1. I am married to my high school sweetheart and even though we've been married for almost 30 years, sometimes I get a little embarrassed or shy (or something like that) around him.
2. I have 2 children and they came to me in the order I always dreamed of (girl first and then a boy).  My children mean the world to me.  The world.  Now that they are adults, whenever we part, I begin a countdown of days until I see them again.
3. If I have any regrets, it is that I did not have another child.  Maybe two more.
4. I buy magazines for the pictures and I actually LOVE looking at pictures over and over and over --which you wouldn't know if you were inside my house-- because all of the art on my walls, (nearly all the art) is made up of words. I have been known to purchase the same exact  magazine more than one time AND I prefer to buy them at the grocery store rather than subscribe.  I find pure delight in cutting out words from magazines. Oh. And the magazines I prefer are about  home making.  
5. Dream job?  Owning my own coffee shop/bakery spot where the walls are decorated with my daughters art.  Books would be for sale as well.  And I would wear an apron. Live music on the weekends. Loads of content customers wondering how in the world they ever lived without that cinnamon roll in their mouth.....
6. Guilty Pleasure? Falling asleep on the couch while watching t.v.  Pleasure made complete if the hubby is rubbing my hair while I fall.
7. 2 dogs live INSIDE my house and this is not one bit what I imagined it would be like.  Although one dog makes me laugh every single day and the other dog makes me feel safe no matter what, I am not a "dog person".  Yet here I am, learning to deal with all the  "stuff" that goes along with two dogs inside the house. (and my heart)
8. I think reality t.v. is an idiotic concept.  It's a little scary to live in a world along side so many people who believe reality t.v. is a good idea.  
9. When I make cookies, I enjoy the dough so much more than the actual cookies.  Baking is a waste of time and energy.
10. I grew up attending Sunday School religiously.  I sure  felt like a big fat liar singing "Jesus loves me, this I know" after my mom died of a brain aneurysm when she was 33 and I was 7.   It mostly felt like if he loved me, then she would come back to life like he did, at Easter.  Or maybe she wouldn't die in the first place.  It's weird and mixed up to lie in church and pretend to know something  about love.

A Good Dad

Fathers Day is 3 days away and I'm feeling pretty blessed to have had a good dad.   Every once in awhile the father of my children will say, right out loud, "gee. I miss your dad"....and those words, though simple, are profound in my ears and they soothe my heart in a way that only love can.   He passed away in 2000 - I guess that makes it 12 years ago - and I still can hear the sound of his jolly laugh and remember the way it felt to be in the same room with him.  (safe. secure. sure.)  A treasured dad memory I have is he and I laying on the family room floor of our mobile home on Lake Lyons Road one hot summer afternoon.  He played his guitar and we sang Don't It Make You Wanna Go Home  (made popular?? by Joe South in the early 70's??).
 I wonder what makes me remember that moment. (I don't recall  any other detail, big or small, about that day.)  I wonder if I knew all the words while I sang along or if I made some up, and I wonder if we sang the song more than once?  More than anything, I wonder this:   if dad were still alive, would HE recall this special moment in time that is safe in my memory; making me feel sure that I was blessed to have a good dad.  Here's the link of Joe South singing the song so you can listen to the tune and the lyrics....they're good! Just like my dad.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5bsR1k453SA

.The smell of Gazillion

As a little girl I remember, with distinction, the way it felt walking into Aunt Bobbies house.  Visits to her house were frequent, rarely scheduled, and always pleasant.  Aunt Bobbie had a front door, a sliding glass "back" door that went to her patio, and a door located in the garage that entered  her laundry room.  I'm pretty sure THIS door was the one most often used  by the countless people who dropped by Aunt Bobbies house in the same casual fashion that I did.  The handle on the door felt familiar, the first glance through the door's window  revealed an always tidy laundry room.   The sounds beyond the closed door were those of LIFE! Lots of people talking, more of them laughing & the comforting, chaotic sound of something delicious happening in the kitchen!!  At the threshold of the door, just as it would swing open toward those happy sounds inside - I was always delighted with "the smell" of Aunt Bobbies house.  Pressed to describe the scent, I would fail miserably. Candles weren't in vogue during those days and Scentsy hadn't even been invented - so the aroma was far and away from "warm vanilla spice" or "3 Wild Berry Breeze".   The scent was subtle, unique, and something I miss terribly since she has been gone.   I found  a great  sense of security walking into that house where I knew I was always welcome and always loved beyond measure and where it smelled like....well, Aunt Bobbies house. 

Yesterday  my own front door swung open wide to welcome a bright, energetic, beautiful little Miss who giggled wildly at the raucous greeting she received from Toby and Henry.  (two dogs who think they run the place.) As she walked through  the entry hall and into the messy living room, she breathed deeply and took a little ballet esque turn.  With a smile on her face she said "Oh! It smells like your house".  Ever concerned that the "greeting committee" have created a subtle dog like odor in the house,  (YUCK)  I said "Oh, honey. Does it smell like dog?" 
Still twirling, she said "Oh, no! Aunti Carol! It smells......." and then she was at a loss for words.  She stopped moving. Breathed in again and confirmed:  "it smells really good here.  I like it".    She then continued to bounce around the house chattering about a gazillion happy things.

I can almost SMELL the gazillion happy things that are in my heart.