Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Somewhere Over the Weekend
We have always lived an opposite life from everyone else. Never do we go anywhere over Labor Day or Memorial Day. We would just rather pick times when fewer people are out doing things. This is the advantage of being in charge of one's own schedule. These are great times to enjoy our house and yard--usually the neighbors are gone so we have the "hood" to ourselves.
This weekend it rained, though, and it was dark and gloomy and cold. We all had papers we were working on--Kaley for school, Dave for the National Academy of Sciences, and me an automobile accident decision. So we took a break and went to the Da Vinci Code. We enjoyed it very much. The theater was full and the audience response seemed to be quite positive. For the three of us, it had been quite a long while since we had read the book so the movie was suspenseful and a fun story. Lucas saw it in Berlin and told me it was just as he pictured everything in his head when he read the book. My advice to the religious critics---you are actually highlighting one of the main points of the story.
Finally, last night the sun came out and the temperature warmed up. I had refused to turn the heat on in the house and it hovered at about 65 until 5 PM. As it turned out, we actually ate our dinner outside on the deck. Kaley decided to put on her swimming suit top in hopes she will not be so white for her yellow prom dress. We do not allow tanning salons for all sorts of reasons like SKIN CANCER but spending a half an hour at 5 PM in our northern latitude is not so bad.
Memorial Day 2006
We have always lived an opposite life from everyone else. Never do we go anywhere over Labor Day or Memorial Day. We would just rather pick times when fewer people are out doing things. This is the advantage of being in charge of one's own schedule. These are great times to enjoy our house and yard--usually the neighbors are gone so we have the "hood" to ourselves.
This weekend it rained, though, and it was dark and gloomy and cold. We all had papers we were working on--Kaley for school, Dave for the National Academy of Sciences, and me an automobile accident decision. So we took a break and went to the Da Vinci Code. We enjoyed it very much. The theater was full and the audience response seemed to be quite positive. For the three of us, it had been quite a long while since we had read the book so the movie was suspenseful and a fun story. Lucas saw it in Berlin and told me it was just as he pictured everything in his head when he read the book. My advice to the religious critics---you are actually highlighting one of the main points of the story.
Finally, last night the sun came out and the temperature warmed up. I had refused to turn the heat on in the house and it hovered at about 65 until 5 PM. As it turned out, we actually ate our dinner outside on the deck. Kaley decided to put on her swimming suit top in hopes she will not be so white for her yellow prom dress. We do not allow tanning salons for all sorts of reasons like SKIN CANCER but spending a half an hour at 5 PM in our northern latitude is not so bad.
Memorial Day 2006
// posted by Janet @ 7:50 AM
0 comments
Friday, May 26, 2006
Only in Seattle
I have had a few things on my list in recent days that must be described as "Only in Seattle" and I will start with last night:
1. Only in Seattle is the salmon ultra delicious at Ivar's Salmon House. This particular restaurant is original Seattle and we still love it for the good food and nostalgia. My husband was honored yesterday with a distinguished professor award and after his presentation, the two of us decided to go to Ivar's which is near the UW--a place we have gone numerous times over 27 years. It was bittersweet because my friend Patti's husband had received this honor shortly before they moved away. Oddly, Patti's memorial service in Pennsylvania was taking place at the exact same time as Dave's turn to be recognized.
Over some lovely salmon we toasted Patti....and Dave. But we were not finished because yesterday my mother turned 78 so we toasted her. And finally, Kaley called me yesterday from school before she boarded the bus for a choir trip and told me she was one of her class Salutatorians. In her class of 500, they have 2 Valedictorians and 4 Salutatorians. She had no idea about the significance of being Salutatorian and only looked into it after receiving a congratulatory note from a friend online. So we toasted Kaley. She might have been Valedictorian had it not been for that A minus in an online correspondence P.E. class. Oh well, something had to go so she could jam in Jazz Choir, Performance class, and AP French 5.
The window at Ivar's looks out on Lake Union with downtown and the Space Needle visible on the other side. Rain drops streaked the glass as we sat silently and thoughtfully enjoying the view. Ducks paired up and fluffed their feathers while some middle-aged guys enjoying themselves with a beer or two pulled their boat up to the Ivar's dock. And streaking across the gray water were the flashing blue lights of two Seattle Police skiffs heading off to solve some problem in this city of ours built in and around water.
2. Only in Seattle, not far from Ivar's was a black bear killed a few days before. Our city is bordered by wilderness and every now and again wildlife wanders in--whether it be cougars, coyotes, or bears. I remember a few years ago a coyote was wandering the streets of downtown Seattle and he decided for whatever reason to take the elevator in the Federal Building. http://www.hcn.org/servlets/hcn.Article?article_id=13461 His story had a happy ending. Who knows which gulch the bear followed in from the mountains but he managed to get himself lost in the University District. Unfortunately, his clash with humans ended badly for him. http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2003010594_bear22m.html
3. Only in Seattle is a UW scientist trying to teach a dog to track orcas by smelling orca poop. I am not kidding.
Gator, wildlife scat detector extraordinaire! (Paul Joseph Brown / P-I)
Evidently, scientists have used dogs to sniff whale poop in other parts of the world where the poop floats. Gator, pictured above, is a drug sniffer school drop out but he is really really good at finding things like wolverines by sniffing out droppings in the wilderness. So a scientist at UW is trying to train Gator to pick up the scent of our Puget Sound orcas. Being able to gather and study feces tells us an incredible amount of information about diet, health, and pollutants. Two problems have arisen. First of all, Gator didn't like being in a boat so much his first time out. Secondly, orca poop doesn't float very well and may be dispersed deep down. Frankly, I think the bigger problem may be Gator's bad boat experience. He got scared out on Lake Washington and they are expecting to take him on the wild waters of Puget Sound??
http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/local/271110_orcadogs22.html
Orcas, however, dive a lot and, he said, "here it'll be more of a brownish cloud ...
"A (killer) whale may swim under you, roll and give you a Bronx cheer, and you'll see it, but it'll be 20 feet down," he said.
Wasser, though, says a certain percentage floats and that should be enough. The big challenge, Balcomb predicts, will be figuring out which whale produced which poop, because they congregate so closely. And the water here, unlike in the Bahamas, is often cloudy.
"Figuring out who did a Freddy is going to be hard," Balcomb said.
I really do hope that Gator, a 45 pound, 8 year old blue healer has success and becomes famous as the first orca scat sniffing dog. That'll show those mean people who flunked him out of drug sniffing school.
4. Speaking of dogs, only in Seattle are there more dogs than children. And believe me, even those of us who have human children treat our furry charges often better than we treat our children.
CONSIDER FOR the next few thousand words that this is a city near the apex of civilization....
...Name your technological age— jet, space, digital — and we [Seattle] are major players, building planes, plucking comet dust from space, corralling bits and bytes and knowledge itself....
Seattle residents' growing dependence on dogs implies they might not be getting enough emotional support from their fellow humans. Maybe they aren't rising to the challenges of compromise, frustration and general woes of dealing with other people, whom Sartre did, after all, call hell...
And maybe this is a variation on the bromide about Seattle's social life: polite, but not friendly.
It's lonely at the top, so we bring the dog.
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/pacificnw05142006/2002974751_pacificpdogs14.html
ALAN BERNER / THE SEATTLE TIMES
Now, if we could just get everyone to clean up after their dogs so that our orcas don't have to be swimming through canine fecal coliform!
5. Only in Seattle when you hear barking, though our dog population far exceeds the number of children we have, it may not be a dog. Apolo and I were out in the back yard the other day while I was cleaning up his poop and very loudly...."Arf! Arf! Arf!"
Apolo perked up his ears and looked at me with a confused look, "That ain't no dog!"
And again, "Arf! Arf! Arf!". We are about 100 feet straight up from the beach but because of all of the water on still days the sound carries. Somewhere down there was a sea lion--happy or unhappy--I can't read sea lion barks like I can dog barks. We couldn't see him but it sure sounded like he was in the neighbor's yard.
I have had a few things on my list in recent days that must be described as "Only in Seattle" and I will start with last night:
1. Only in Seattle is the salmon ultra delicious at Ivar's Salmon House. This particular restaurant is original Seattle and we still love it for the good food and nostalgia. My husband was honored yesterday with a distinguished professor award and after his presentation, the two of us decided to go to Ivar's which is near the UW--a place we have gone numerous times over 27 years. It was bittersweet because my friend Patti's husband had received this honor shortly before they moved away. Oddly, Patti's memorial service in Pennsylvania was taking place at the exact same time as Dave's turn to be recognized.
Over some lovely salmon we toasted Patti....and Dave. But we were not finished because yesterday my mother turned 78 so we toasted her. And finally, Kaley called me yesterday from school before she boarded the bus for a choir trip and told me she was one of her class Salutatorians. In her class of 500, they have 2 Valedictorians and 4 Salutatorians. She had no idea about the significance of being Salutatorian and only looked into it after receiving a congratulatory note from a friend online. So we toasted Kaley. She might have been Valedictorian had it not been for that A minus in an online correspondence P.E. class. Oh well, something had to go so she could jam in Jazz Choir, Performance class, and AP French 5.
The window at Ivar's looks out on Lake Union with downtown and the Space Needle visible on the other side. Rain drops streaked the glass as we sat silently and thoughtfully enjoying the view. Ducks paired up and fluffed their feathers while some middle-aged guys enjoying themselves with a beer or two pulled their boat up to the Ivar's dock. And streaking across the gray water were the flashing blue lights of two Seattle Police skiffs heading off to solve some problem in this city of ours built in and around water.
2. Only in Seattle, not far from Ivar's was a black bear killed a few days before. Our city is bordered by wilderness and every now and again wildlife wanders in--whether it be cougars, coyotes, or bears. I remember a few years ago a coyote was wandering the streets of downtown Seattle and he decided for whatever reason to take the elevator in the Federal Building. http://www.hcn.org/servlets/hcn.Article?article_id=13461 His story had a happy ending. Who knows which gulch the bear followed in from the mountains but he managed to get himself lost in the University District. Unfortunately, his clash with humans ended badly for him. http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2003010594_bear22m.html
3. Only in Seattle is a UW scientist trying to teach a dog to track orcas by smelling orca poop. I am not kidding.
Gator, wildlife scat detector extraordinaire! (Paul Joseph Brown / P-I)
Evidently, scientists have used dogs to sniff whale poop in other parts of the world where the poop floats. Gator, pictured above, is a drug sniffer school drop out but he is really really good at finding things like wolverines by sniffing out droppings in the wilderness. So a scientist at UW is trying to train Gator to pick up the scent of our Puget Sound orcas. Being able to gather and study feces tells us an incredible amount of information about diet, health, and pollutants. Two problems have arisen. First of all, Gator didn't like being in a boat so much his first time out. Secondly, orca poop doesn't float very well and may be dispersed deep down. Frankly, I think the bigger problem may be Gator's bad boat experience. He got scared out on Lake Washington and they are expecting to take him on the wild waters of Puget Sound??
http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/local/271110_orcadogs22.html
Orcas, however, dive a lot and, he said, "here it'll be more of a brownish cloud ...
"A (killer) whale may swim under you, roll and give you a Bronx cheer, and you'll see it, but it'll be 20 feet down," he said.
Wasser, though, says a certain percentage floats and that should be enough. The big challenge, Balcomb predicts, will be figuring out which whale produced which poop, because they congregate so closely. And the water here, unlike in the Bahamas, is often cloudy.
"Figuring out who did a Freddy is going to be hard," Balcomb said.
I really do hope that Gator, a 45 pound, 8 year old blue healer has success and becomes famous as the first orca scat sniffing dog. That'll show those mean people who flunked him out of drug sniffing school.
4. Speaking of dogs, only in Seattle are there more dogs than children. And believe me, even those of us who have human children treat our furry charges often better than we treat our children.
CONSIDER FOR the next few thousand words that this is a city near the apex of civilization....
...Name your technological age— jet, space, digital — and we [Seattle] are major players, building planes, plucking comet dust from space, corralling bits and bytes and knowledge itself....
Seattle residents' growing dependence on dogs implies they might not be getting enough emotional support from their fellow humans. Maybe they aren't rising to the challenges of compromise, frustration and general woes of dealing with other people, whom Sartre did, after all, call hell...
And maybe this is a variation on the bromide about Seattle's social life: polite, but not friendly.
It's lonely at the top, so we bring the dog.
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/pacificnw05142006/2002974751_pacificpdogs14.html
ALAN BERNER / THE SEATTLE TIMES
Now, if we could just get everyone to clean up after their dogs so that our orcas don't have to be swimming through canine fecal coliform!
5. Only in Seattle when you hear barking, though our dog population far exceeds the number of children we have, it may not be a dog. Apolo and I were out in the back yard the other day while I was cleaning up his poop and very loudly...."Arf! Arf! Arf!"
Apolo perked up his ears and looked at me with a confused look, "That ain't no dog!"
And again, "Arf! Arf! Arf!". We are about 100 feet straight up from the beach but because of all of the water on still days the sound carries. Somewhere down there was a sea lion--happy or unhappy--I can't read sea lion barks like I can dog barks. We couldn't see him but it sure sounded like he was in the neighbor's yard.
// posted by Janet @ 8:33 AM
0 comments
Monday, May 22, 2006
Hot! Hot! Hot!
I am feeling kind of weepy today like the skies. Actually, I was kind of a mess on my walk with Apolo. My route takes me close to Patti and Curt's old house--great times. So I feel like having a little fun. My children make me happy. I have a good feeling inside knowing that I sent Patti the "Grease" program and a copy of the Mukilteo Beacon with the girls of the cast on the cover. I know she got it before...
I have not written about Grease, yet, because I am waiting for pictures. In my opinion--and yes, I know I'm the Mom--my daughter was fabulous as Rizzo. Last Friday, Kaley came home from school and said the school newspaper had her as Rizzo and Kenickie plastered on the front page. Her high school has 2000 kids and I guess the newspaper was all over the place. She brought one home and here it is---an absolutely amazing photo. I do not know who took it but it was taken during the dance contest in the prom scene and the story goes that Kenickie and Rizzo get eliminated due to "dirty dancing".
Wowzers!
I am feeling kind of weepy today like the skies. Actually, I was kind of a mess on my walk with Apolo. My route takes me close to Patti and Curt's old house--great times. So I feel like having a little fun. My children make me happy. I have a good feeling inside knowing that I sent Patti the "Grease" program and a copy of the Mukilteo Beacon with the girls of the cast on the cover. I know she got it before...
I have not written about Grease, yet, because I am waiting for pictures. In my opinion--and yes, I know I'm the Mom--my daughter was fabulous as Rizzo. Last Friday, Kaley came home from school and said the school newspaper had her as Rizzo and Kenickie plastered on the front page. Her high school has 2000 kids and I guess the newspaper was all over the place. She brought one home and here it is---an absolutely amazing photo. I do not know who took it but it was taken during the dance contest in the prom scene and the story goes that Kenickie and Rizzo get eliminated due to "dirty dancing".
Wowzers!
// posted by Janet @ 1:45 PM
0 comments
Good Bye Dear Friend
I just found out that my dear friend Patti died yesterday. See my post below which I wrote to her as a tribute for Mother's Day. She did get my letter and others as a part of a project her daughter put together. She read them with joy and laughter. My last conversation with Patti was on Easter Sunday. I had sent her flowers because I knew she wasn't feeling well with all of the chemo and everything. She called me while they were fixing Easter dinner. Easter Sunday she felt much better than she had a few days before. She was very positive about her treatments and the next steps they would take. This was just four days before she knew.....
We were preparing to fix our dinner as well--Curt and Patti with their daughter Julie, and Dave and me with our daughter Kaley. So many times in the years past we had joined together for these holiday dinners and we talked about what we were each cooking. She apologized to me that they wouldn't be able to make the trip to Mukilteo from Pennsylvania to see Kaley in "Grease". At Christmas time, this was the plan because the timing was perfect with an advisory board meeting her husband had scheduled at the UW. Two years ago, this same meeting brought Curt and Patti here for a visit and they saw Kaley in "Les Miserables". This was the last time I saw her. Patti loved the Kamiak musicals because Julie had been in them every year. It was a treat for her to see Kaley perform and she was looking forward to another trip out here.
I cannot bear the reality that never will I see Patti or talk to her again. I cannot bear it. The memories I will have are terrific. But it really sucks that memories is all we have.
The four of us in Florence--Patti's great purple shoes and skirt!
Trying on hats in Italy.
Julie's College Graduation---one year ago.
Of course, Patti planned her own memorial service as I knew she would. Her request is that her life is to be celebrated with bright colors. I wish I had some purple shoes.
I just found out that my dear friend Patti died yesterday. See my post below which I wrote to her as a tribute for Mother's Day. She did get my letter and others as a part of a project her daughter put together. She read them with joy and laughter. My last conversation with Patti was on Easter Sunday. I had sent her flowers because I knew she wasn't feeling well with all of the chemo and everything. She called me while they were fixing Easter dinner. Easter Sunday she felt much better than she had a few days before. She was very positive about her treatments and the next steps they would take. This was just four days before she knew.....
We were preparing to fix our dinner as well--Curt and Patti with their daughter Julie, and Dave and me with our daughter Kaley. So many times in the years past we had joined together for these holiday dinners and we talked about what we were each cooking. She apologized to me that they wouldn't be able to make the trip to Mukilteo from Pennsylvania to see Kaley in "Grease". At Christmas time, this was the plan because the timing was perfect with an advisory board meeting her husband had scheduled at the UW. Two years ago, this same meeting brought Curt and Patti here for a visit and they saw Kaley in "Les Miserables". This was the last time I saw her. Patti loved the Kamiak musicals because Julie had been in them every year. It was a treat for her to see Kaley perform and she was looking forward to another trip out here.
I cannot bear the reality that never will I see Patti or talk to her again. I cannot bear it. The memories I will have are terrific. But it really sucks that memories is all we have.
The four of us in Florence--Patti's great purple shoes and skirt!
Trying on hats in Italy.
Julie's College Graduation---one year ago.
Of course, Patti planned her own memorial service as I knew she would. Her request is that her life is to be celebrated with bright colors. I wish I had some purple shoes.
// posted by Janet @ 8:55 AM
0 comments
Thursday, May 18, 2006
It's a Jungle Out There!!!
The Puget Sound area has always been green and lush. No doubt about it. But take record setting rains over the winter and add them to normally lush conditions and everything explodes. In the 27 years we have lived here, I have never seen it like this. I have never seen the rhodies so bloomy and the gulches so tangled and it is only May. In my yard, I am actually picking which weeds to pull and leaving others that are not so ugly, "Oh, those have little pink flowers. I'll just pretend it is a ground cover." Ferns have sprouted in our mudslide area and are two and three feet tall. The blackberry battle has only just begun. Serious rain forest jungle, folks.
Pink and white solid rhodie bush.
Back yard looking away from the water and into the jungle that is Big Gulch.
Rhodie blooms as big as Apolo's head.
Pictures taken just a few minutes ago.
The Puget Sound area has always been green and lush. No doubt about it. But take record setting rains over the winter and add them to normally lush conditions and everything explodes. In the 27 years we have lived here, I have never seen it like this. I have never seen the rhodies so bloomy and the gulches so tangled and it is only May. In my yard, I am actually picking which weeds to pull and leaving others that are not so ugly, "Oh, those have little pink flowers. I'll just pretend it is a ground cover." Ferns have sprouted in our mudslide area and are two and three feet tall. The blackberry battle has only just begun. Serious rain forest jungle, folks.
Pink and white solid rhodie bush.
Back yard looking away from the water and into the jungle that is Big Gulch.
Rhodie blooms as big as Apolo's head.
Pictures taken just a few minutes ago.
// posted by Janet @ 4:54 PM
0 comments
My Two Cents
The Da Vinci Code, The Da Vinci Code, The De Vinci Code! The hype is everywhere and I am sure every blog in the country is writing about it so why not me, too. I read the book and I enjoyed the book. My mother and my daughter have both read the book along with the entire world. I have argued with my priest about the book. He puts it in the same category as the fictional "Left Behind" series--read them if you would like but remember they are works of fiction and nothing more.
I disagree with him about the Da Vinci Code. The discussion this whole phenomenon has fostered is eye opening, explosive and necessary. I think the men of the Roman Catholic Church are over reacting. Jesus loved debate and he loved questioning. He was always asking his followers to look at issues in a different light. And we should be now. People who are upset about some of the ideas contained in Dan Brown's novel, I believe, are insecure about the Christian faith.
First things first. To me, Jesus was Divine as well as human. If He fell in love and fathered a child as human beings tend to do, then so what? Frankly, I think His mind was on other things. He was given a rather enormous job to do and I am not sure He had time for a love affair, let alone marriage. Plus, the French claim the bloodline. Do you know anything about the French?? This is completely cultural and typical. According to them they live in the perfect country with the perfect civilization, the best food and the best wine. Naturally, they would assume they have the DNA of Jesus, too. It's laughable; cracks me up!
When my mother went to Israel to visit sacred sites (long before The Da Vinci Code hit the shelves) and to see where our Lord walked and talked, she had a young Jewish man as a guide. We tend to overlook that Jesus was a young Jewish man. Her guide stated quite emphatically that Jesus as the son of a mainstream carpenter would have undoubtedly been married and it would have been weird for Him not to be. This guide stated that if Jesus had not married by the age of 30, it would have been so unusual in Jewish culture at the time that certainly this fact would have been mentioned somewhere. My mother was shocked but who knows?
The positive door The Da Vinci Code has opened for me and for millions of Christian women is the overlooked significance of Mary Magdalene. I grew up in a church where only men were priests. I grew up in a church where my brother got to be an acolyte but I wasn't allowed to light altar candles because I was a girl. I grew up in a church where the governing body was only men. I grew up in a church where the women ironed the priest's vestments and the altar cloths. I grew up in a church where as little girls, we were told that Jesus only picked men to follow Him. I grew up in a church where little girls were told that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute. I grew up in a church where the women of the Bible were completely ignored and we were led to believe that lowly sinful disgusting Mary was merely visitng the grave of Jesus to sprinkle some herbs on a dead body. And as an Episcopalian, Mary the mother of Jesus, was hardly acknowledged.
When my teen age daughter read The Da Vinci Code, an entirely new conversation was hatched. And it has to do with women. As a Mom, I am gloriously happy to see my daughter curious about Jesus. To her, Jesus loved women as well as men, and women were among the group that traveled with Him during His ministry. To her, Jesus did not separate out the men to worship with out women. He was a rebel, after all. She believes that historically, women have been written out of the picture and Jesus never intended for it to be that way. The reality and the truth are now coming out. We are learning that early Christianity had great equality among men and women following presumably the model Jesus inspired. Our church's St. Hilda is a perfect example of an early female church leader. Male popes took over and somehow we lost this history and half of the population has been excluded. In our church now, women do a lot more than iron altar cloths. Little girls can be alcolytes and little girls can dream about becoming priests or even Bishops.
Mary Magdalene was never a prostitute. Pope Gregory was wrong! Yes, she had problems in her life with perhaps depression or anxiety and Jesus helped her overcome her demons. Mary Magdalene was not lowly and disgusting, but Jesus held her in high regard. She was an integral part of His ministry and she had a lot of responsibility and respect.
Most importantly, Mary Magdalene alone--not Peter, not James, not John---Mary Magdalene, who Jesus loved, was the first to see, to experience, and to speak to Jesus after He rose from the dead.
Now how cool is that? The first witness to a history changing event and the most significant detail of the Christian faith was a remarkable woman.
If it takes the over the top madness of a fictional book and movie to spotlight these explosive few moments in a garden amongst tombs over 2000 years ago, then so be it.
So be it.
The Da Vinci Code, The Da Vinci Code, The De Vinci Code! The hype is everywhere and I am sure every blog in the country is writing about it so why not me, too. I read the book and I enjoyed the book. My mother and my daughter have both read the book along with the entire world. I have argued with my priest about the book. He puts it in the same category as the fictional "Left Behind" series--read them if you would like but remember they are works of fiction and nothing more.
I disagree with him about the Da Vinci Code. The discussion this whole phenomenon has fostered is eye opening, explosive and necessary. I think the men of the Roman Catholic Church are over reacting. Jesus loved debate and he loved questioning. He was always asking his followers to look at issues in a different light. And we should be now. People who are upset about some of the ideas contained in Dan Brown's novel, I believe, are insecure about the Christian faith.
First things first. To me, Jesus was Divine as well as human. If He fell in love and fathered a child as human beings tend to do, then so what? Frankly, I think His mind was on other things. He was given a rather enormous job to do and I am not sure He had time for a love affair, let alone marriage. Plus, the French claim the bloodline. Do you know anything about the French?? This is completely cultural and typical. According to them they live in the perfect country with the perfect civilization, the best food and the best wine. Naturally, they would assume they have the DNA of Jesus, too. It's laughable; cracks me up!
When my mother went to Israel to visit sacred sites (long before The Da Vinci Code hit the shelves) and to see where our Lord walked and talked, she had a young Jewish man as a guide. We tend to overlook that Jesus was a young Jewish man. Her guide stated quite emphatically that Jesus as the son of a mainstream carpenter would have undoubtedly been married and it would have been weird for Him not to be. This guide stated that if Jesus had not married by the age of 30, it would have been so unusual in Jewish culture at the time that certainly this fact would have been mentioned somewhere. My mother was shocked but who knows?
The positive door The Da Vinci Code has opened for me and for millions of Christian women is the overlooked significance of Mary Magdalene. I grew up in a church where only men were priests. I grew up in a church where my brother got to be an acolyte but I wasn't allowed to light altar candles because I was a girl. I grew up in a church where the governing body was only men. I grew up in a church where the women ironed the priest's vestments and the altar cloths. I grew up in a church where as little girls, we were told that Jesus only picked men to follow Him. I grew up in a church where little girls were told that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute. I grew up in a church where the women of the Bible were completely ignored and we were led to believe that lowly sinful disgusting Mary was merely visitng the grave of Jesus to sprinkle some herbs on a dead body. And as an Episcopalian, Mary the mother of Jesus, was hardly acknowledged.
When my teen age daughter read The Da Vinci Code, an entirely new conversation was hatched. And it has to do with women. As a Mom, I am gloriously happy to see my daughter curious about Jesus. To her, Jesus loved women as well as men, and women were among the group that traveled with Him during His ministry. To her, Jesus did not separate out the men to worship with out women. He was a rebel, after all. She believes that historically, women have been written out of the picture and Jesus never intended for it to be that way. The reality and the truth are now coming out. We are learning that early Christianity had great equality among men and women following presumably the model Jesus inspired. Our church's St. Hilda is a perfect example of an early female church leader. Male popes took over and somehow we lost this history and half of the population has been excluded. In our church now, women do a lot more than iron altar cloths. Little girls can be alcolytes and little girls can dream about becoming priests or even Bishops.
Mary Magdalene was never a prostitute. Pope Gregory was wrong! Yes, she had problems in her life with perhaps depression or anxiety and Jesus helped her overcome her demons. Mary Magdalene was not lowly and disgusting, but Jesus held her in high regard. She was an integral part of His ministry and she had a lot of responsibility and respect.
Most importantly, Mary Magdalene alone--not Peter, not James, not John---Mary Magdalene, who Jesus loved, was the first to see, to experience, and to speak to Jesus after He rose from the dead.
Now how cool is that? The first witness to a history changing event and the most significant detail of the Christian faith was a remarkable woman.
If it takes the over the top madness of a fictional book and movie to spotlight these explosive few moments in a garden amongst tombs over 2000 years ago, then so be it.
So be it.
// posted by Janet @ 7:44 AM
0 comments
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Grace Hospital
One of my favorite TV shows is "Grey's Anatomy" which is set in a fictional Seattle hospital called Grace Hospital. Last night was the season finale so the local news afterwards did a little feature on the reality of it all. First of all, the scene where the heart was being rushed to Grace for transplant had the helicopter landing with the Space Needle looming large in the background. It looked quite real and my husband said, "There is not exactly a hospital with a helipad right at that spot!" This is true but the scene was real and it was filmed here but it was the landing pad on top of the KOMO 4 News building. That very helicopter was probably whirring directly over my house during our winter and spring mudslides.
But what about "Grace Hospital"? Yes, there actually was a Grace Hospital built in 1885. It was an Episcopal hospital and was built so that people who were not Catholic would have an alternative. Remember those days when the hospitals were affiliated with a particular denomination? It was the same with cemeteries. In Helena, Montana we had two hospitals--St. Peter's which was orginally Episcopal and St. John's which was Roman Catholic. My husband was born in St. John's and his Mom was a staunch First Christian and rather anti-Catholic so I wonder about her experience.
I was born in a Catholic hospital in Deer Lodge, Montana where there probably was no Protestant hospital. My mother tells the story about how the nuns were kind of mean. First of all, they tried to convince her to have ether during the labor process. They gave her ether when my brother was born and it made her so sick she was not able to enjoy her new baby. My tough Mom refused and had me without any pain medication and afterwards, she felt great. Next, the nuns wouldn't let her have me with her as a newborn and they tried to discourage breast feeding which was considered barbaric in the 1950's. But my mother, having been raised Methodist but turned Episcopalian because of my Dad, was not afraid of those old childless prudie nuns in their full black and white habits. My mother has always been unconventional so she told those nuns where they could put their child birthing and rearing advice.
Whoa! I keep getting off on tangents this morning. Anyway, Grace Hospital in Seattle lasted for a decade or so. The Roman Catholic hospital called Sisters of Providence was much more successful so Grace closed its doors and was eventually torn down. The Episcopal Church next to it was called Trinity Episcopal and it is still there.
Trinity Church
If you are a fan of "Grey's Anatomy", you might like to know the real Grace Hospital would be right next to the church in the picture above in downtown Seattle. Sisters of Providence eventually became Providence Hospital as the religious ties to our medical care fell away probably due to finances. Still to this day, the denominations have church members on the advisory boards, I believe.
Last night, as we were watching the news after "Grey's Anatomy" and learning about the real Grace Hospital, our former Episcopal Priest, Father Paul, came on. This priest is the one who orginally invited us to St. Hilda St. Patrick's where he was the vicar when we moved to Mukilteo. We had been attending the giant Cathedral Church, St. Mark's, in Seattle and had not yet made the decision to find a church closer to home.
St. Mark's has been in the news lately for two reasons. First of all, the priest at St. Mark's is openly gay and has lived with his partner for years. Recently, he was one of the finalists for the Bishop of the Diocese of California. ECUSA (Episcopal Church of the U.S.) does not really have the stomach for additional controversy---the controversy which still threatens to break us away from the world wide Anglican Community because of the gay Bishop back East. So the priest at St. Mark's did not get the job in California. It went to a married straight white guy from Alabama who I have read wonderful things about. We like to go to St. Mark's now and then for a large church experience. The members love their priest, Dean Taylor, and are joyous he will not be leaving. I am glad, too. I am inspired by his love of Christ and enjoy hearing him preach; the good work he does in our community is unsurpassed.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/12683833/
Dean Robert Taylor of St. Mark's is a remarkable Christian. I could write a whole blog about him because he is one of the saints among us. Originally, he is from South Africa and though white, he suffered terrible persecution because of his fight against evil apartheid. He continues his passion for justice here on behalf of the poor and oppressed.
The second reason St. Mark's has been in the news is that Nobel Prize winning retired Archbishop Desmond Tutu visited to help with St. Mark's 75th Anniversary. (Unfortunately, we were not able to go because of all of the "Grease", the musical, goings on.) And Bishop Tutu was Dean Taylor's mentor; together they worked to fight racism and poverty in South Africa:
"Cathedrals such as St. Mark's have a special place in society, he said at a news conference.
It's "a place of innovation, a place of excitement and exhilaration," Tutu said. "It is also a place that embraces, and a place that is on the cutting edge of gospel.
"St. Mark's is what a cathedral should be," said Tutu, making his fourth visit to the Capitol Hill church in the past 20 years."
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2002986350_tutu11m.html
So many threads here--it must be the sunshine outside bringing all of these thoughts to me. Archbishop Tutu for some unbelieveable reason adores Helena, Montana. I am not kidding. He is full of humor and loves to laugh. The son (whose sister I went to high school with) of a former Methodist minister in Helena has this singing comedy troupe called the Montana Logging and Ballet Company. Their purpose through humor and music is social justice. They are a fascinating group of guys on a mission and here is their website: http://mlabc.org/ And it just so happens that Bishop Tutu is a big fan. Tutu actually made a special trip to Helena a few years back because of this singing group. Naturally, the Episcopal church in Helena welcomed Tutu and my mother got to meet him and speak with him briefly one on one. It was terribly exciting for her and for me to hear about it---I mean to shake hands with Bishop Tutu for her was like a Roman Catholic having a private meeting with the Pope.
http://archives.umc.org/interior.asp?ptid=1&mid=5853
So where am I now in all of this--I need to go outside? Oh yes, we used to go to St. Mark's but I needed a babysitter so I called the nearest Episcopal Church in Mukilteo. Father Paul answered the phone and gave me some names. He invited us to St. Hilda St. Patrick's but admitted he could not compete with the excitement of St. Mark's in Seattle. I liked the non-threatening invitation and eventually it became burdensome for us to travel with two little ones to downtown Seattle on Sunday mornings. Father Paul left us after several years for a promotion to a bigger church in Seattle---Trinity---the site of the old Grace Hospital. I will forever be grateful for his positive influence on both of my kids. My daughter says that no matter where she gets married, she wants Father Paul to do the ceremony. I'd kinda like Bishop Tutu to be there, too.
Steering this post around, Father Paul was on TV last night talking about "Grey's Anatomy" and the original Grace Hospital on his church's current site. All that is left is a monument on the church grounds.
Grace Hospital 1885
Whoa! This all started with a TV show. And another thing. It really bugs me when in order to give the impression of the rain in Seattle on TV, they use the sound of thunder. "Grey's Anatomy" kept having thunder in dramatic moments last night; not real. Our gentle rain does not come with thunder. Thunder and lightening are rare here.
And at the moment, there is no thunder, no lightening, no rain, and no clouds and I have an outdoor date with my furry child.
"Get off the computer and come play with me! Now!!"
(photo taken this morning at 8 AM)
One of my favorite TV shows is "Grey's Anatomy" which is set in a fictional Seattle hospital called Grace Hospital. Last night was the season finale so the local news afterwards did a little feature on the reality of it all. First of all, the scene where the heart was being rushed to Grace for transplant had the helicopter landing with the Space Needle looming large in the background. It looked quite real and my husband said, "There is not exactly a hospital with a helipad right at that spot!" This is true but the scene was real and it was filmed here but it was the landing pad on top of the KOMO 4 News building. That very helicopter was probably whirring directly over my house during our winter and spring mudslides.
But what about "Grace Hospital"? Yes, there actually was a Grace Hospital built in 1885. It was an Episcopal hospital and was built so that people who were not Catholic would have an alternative. Remember those days when the hospitals were affiliated with a particular denomination? It was the same with cemeteries. In Helena, Montana we had two hospitals--St. Peter's which was orginally Episcopal and St. John's which was Roman Catholic. My husband was born in St. John's and his Mom was a staunch First Christian and rather anti-Catholic so I wonder about her experience.
I was born in a Catholic hospital in Deer Lodge, Montana where there probably was no Protestant hospital. My mother tells the story about how the nuns were kind of mean. First of all, they tried to convince her to have ether during the labor process. They gave her ether when my brother was born and it made her so sick she was not able to enjoy her new baby. My tough Mom refused and had me without any pain medication and afterwards, she felt great. Next, the nuns wouldn't let her have me with her as a newborn and they tried to discourage breast feeding which was considered barbaric in the 1950's. But my mother, having been raised Methodist but turned Episcopalian because of my Dad, was not afraid of those old childless prudie nuns in their full black and white habits. My mother has always been unconventional so she told those nuns where they could put their child birthing and rearing advice.
Whoa! I keep getting off on tangents this morning. Anyway, Grace Hospital in Seattle lasted for a decade or so. The Roman Catholic hospital called Sisters of Providence was much more successful so Grace closed its doors and was eventually torn down. The Episcopal Church next to it was called Trinity Episcopal and it is still there.
Trinity Church
If you are a fan of "Grey's Anatomy", you might like to know the real Grace Hospital would be right next to the church in the picture above in downtown Seattle. Sisters of Providence eventually became Providence Hospital as the religious ties to our medical care fell away probably due to finances. Still to this day, the denominations have church members on the advisory boards, I believe.
Last night, as we were watching the news after "Grey's Anatomy" and learning about the real Grace Hospital, our former Episcopal Priest, Father Paul, came on. This priest is the one who orginally invited us to St. Hilda St. Patrick's where he was the vicar when we moved to Mukilteo. We had been attending the giant Cathedral Church, St. Mark's, in Seattle and had not yet made the decision to find a church closer to home.
St. Mark's has been in the news lately for two reasons. First of all, the priest at St. Mark's is openly gay and has lived with his partner for years. Recently, he was one of the finalists for the Bishop of the Diocese of California. ECUSA (Episcopal Church of the U.S.) does not really have the stomach for additional controversy---the controversy which still threatens to break us away from the world wide Anglican Community because of the gay Bishop back East. So the priest at St. Mark's did not get the job in California. It went to a married straight white guy from Alabama who I have read wonderful things about. We like to go to St. Mark's now and then for a large church experience. The members love their priest, Dean Taylor, and are joyous he will not be leaving. I am glad, too. I am inspired by his love of Christ and enjoy hearing him preach; the good work he does in our community is unsurpassed.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/12683833/
Dean Robert Taylor of St. Mark's is a remarkable Christian. I could write a whole blog about him because he is one of the saints among us. Originally, he is from South Africa and though white, he suffered terrible persecution because of his fight against evil apartheid. He continues his passion for justice here on behalf of the poor and oppressed.
The second reason St. Mark's has been in the news is that Nobel Prize winning retired Archbishop Desmond Tutu visited to help with St. Mark's 75th Anniversary. (Unfortunately, we were not able to go because of all of the "Grease", the musical, goings on.) And Bishop Tutu was Dean Taylor's mentor; together they worked to fight racism and poverty in South Africa:
"Cathedrals such as St. Mark's have a special place in society, he said at a news conference.
It's "a place of innovation, a place of excitement and exhilaration," Tutu said. "It is also a place that embraces, and a place that is on the cutting edge of gospel.
"St. Mark's is what a cathedral should be," said Tutu, making his fourth visit to the Capitol Hill church in the past 20 years."
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2002986350_tutu11m.html
So many threads here--it must be the sunshine outside bringing all of these thoughts to me. Archbishop Tutu for some unbelieveable reason adores Helena, Montana. I am not kidding. He is full of humor and loves to laugh. The son (whose sister I went to high school with) of a former Methodist minister in Helena has this singing comedy troupe called the Montana Logging and Ballet Company. Their purpose through humor and music is social justice. They are a fascinating group of guys on a mission and here is their website: http://mlabc.org/ And it just so happens that Bishop Tutu is a big fan. Tutu actually made a special trip to Helena a few years back because of this singing group. Naturally, the Episcopal church in Helena welcomed Tutu and my mother got to meet him and speak with him briefly one on one. It was terribly exciting for her and for me to hear about it---I mean to shake hands with Bishop Tutu for her was like a Roman Catholic having a private meeting with the Pope.
http://archives.umc.org/interior.asp?ptid=1&mid=5853
So where am I now in all of this--I need to go outside? Oh yes, we used to go to St. Mark's but I needed a babysitter so I called the nearest Episcopal Church in Mukilteo. Father Paul answered the phone and gave me some names. He invited us to St. Hilda St. Patrick's but admitted he could not compete with the excitement of St. Mark's in Seattle. I liked the non-threatening invitation and eventually it became burdensome for us to travel with two little ones to downtown Seattle on Sunday mornings. Father Paul left us after several years for a promotion to a bigger church in Seattle---Trinity---the site of the old Grace Hospital. I will forever be grateful for his positive influence on both of my kids. My daughter says that no matter where she gets married, she wants Father Paul to do the ceremony. I'd kinda like Bishop Tutu to be there, too.
Steering this post around, Father Paul was on TV last night talking about "Grey's Anatomy" and the original Grace Hospital on his church's current site. All that is left is a monument on the church grounds.
Grace Hospital 1885
Whoa! This all started with a TV show. And another thing. It really bugs me when in order to give the impression of the rain in Seattle on TV, they use the sound of thunder. "Grey's Anatomy" kept having thunder in dramatic moments last night; not real. Our gentle rain does not come with thunder. Thunder and lightening are rare here.
And at the moment, there is no thunder, no lightening, no rain, and no clouds and I have an outdoor date with my furry child.
"Get off the computer and come play with me! Now!!"
(photo taken this morning at 8 AM)
// posted by Janet @ 8:30 AM
0 comments
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Our Culture of The Boot
The magazine section of Sunday's Seattle Times/PI devoted most of itself to how wonderful Seattle is, yet again! As I have stated before on this blog, Seattleites love talking about themselves. Collective narcissism is definitely part of our culture. I was planning to write about the Sunday article because it fits with one of the many themes of my blog but----been there; done that. But, I could not resist the photo and at least one quote which will lead me to my blog topic of the day.
The piece is entitled "Beautiful, Smart, and a Little Wild" (yea, that's us) and actually consists of excerpts from the book, "Seattle, Coming of Age" by Joel W. Rogers. Undoubtedly, I want the book because I am as narcissistic as any Seattleite.
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/pacificnw05072006/coverstory.html
And the quote:
"Our gray-green muted world seems reflected in our politeness and our political correctness, a badge of living here. We stand up with a breathtaking pride for our motley architecture and flailing sports teams, our insular provincialism and our legendary rain. But it is the way we live, our NPR-listening, black Lab-loving, electric guitar-inventing, REI-shopping, book-reading, sea-kayaking life in Seattle that signals to others an enviable if damp happiness."
Alright, let us get specific. Sincerely, a big topic of my family's conversations is the perfect "boot" for hiking. Just yesterday I was talking to my son on the phone; he is still in France and he seems to be going through the shoes with all of his exploring of Poland and Germany and England and such. He wishes he had his beloved hiking boots but they were just too cumbersome to take. He actually stated that he "loved" his boots. I completely understand because I, too, love my boots. And when I clunked the boots on the patio table to take this photo this morning, Apolo became very excited and wiggly. He loves the boots, too, because the smell means wonderful hiking fun to him.
Lukie's boot and my boot
The perfect boot is completely dependent on how it feels after a significant hike; there is nothing worse than blisters and sore feet after only two miles and every single hiker I know has had this experience. The perfect boot may or may not be expensive. Hiking experience just tells you when you try a pair on and walk around the store whether any little rub will turn into a blister down the road. My boots were cheap but they felt great from the beginning and never have I had a problem. Unfortunately, one of these days, my beloveds will need to be replaced. Lucas's boots were pricey but Grandma helped as part of a birthday gift and believe me, this was a big deal. My son was on the phone with me salivating over these boots at a sporting goods store in Montana. They turned out to be great boots. Such a purchase to us is as important as an automobile.
In the Seattle Times today was an article about a backpacking equipment company that caters to women. Evidently, they have developed the perfect hiking boot and this morning, I was drooling over this picture. My daughter lusts after all of the fancy shoes at Nordstroms but me---??? Ah, look at this-----wow, look at this lovely item:
"The Blue Ridge GTX boot, in Nubuck leather, is tailored to women's feet and how women walk, down to details such as footfall pressure."
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/traveloutdoors/2002985166_nwwmothersday11.html
Which brings me to my husband. Oh, my husband, what can I say? He is brilliant and appeared on the ABC Evening News--the national news--on Friday discussing parental concern over toxic exposures; he has just come out with a new book; and he is about to go to Washington DC to advise uppity decider folks about a dangerous carcinogen. But his major concern at the moment is that he has LOST HIS HIKING BOOTS. My husband has all of the attributes of an absent-minded proefessor but, I mean, how can you lose your hiking boots? Practically every night for the last two months he has come home from work and the search begins again. He does not hike as much as he used to nor does he hike as much as I do which means there are longer time spans between use. Frankly, I think his beloved boots became angry with him over lack of exercise and they trudged away.
Or, they might be on the balcony of that place we stayed in Whistler last summer. Hmmm! Dave's boots come with a story. When we were living in France ten years ago while Dave was spending time at the cancer branch of the WHO, we visited the French Alps. One of the boot boutiques in Chamonix had a terrific sale (plus at that time the U.S. dollar was worth a hellava lot more and we had a different president). He bought these beautiful hiking boots for not much money.
We were staying on an upper floor of this narrow tall old European hotel that was built around a tiny courtyard. No access existed to the courtyard except through a locked private door on the first floor. Dave was leaning out the window spraying waterproof formula on his new boots when one of the brand new boots slipped from his grip and tumbled several floors down to the courtyard below. "Oh my, I wonder how many people saw a boot flying by their window!" I remarked.
"You speak French--go down there and find somebody to unlock the door and get my boot.....please?" Dave pleaded.
"Ah, it is your boot. You dropped it. I don't speak French well enough to figure out how to explain that my husband's boot is in the courtyard. They will think I threw it at you."
"But I don't speak a word---you have to go get it for me," he insisted.
Needless to say after more conversation, my husband went after his own boot. He did a lot of pointing into the courtyard. I still remember my stomach hurting and my eyes watering from laughing so hard as the kids and I watched the door below being unlocked so Dave could retrieve his boot. Crazy Americans!
The boots have served him well over the years and he has grown to love them like we do with our boots here in the Puget Sound area. He has been quite upset about not being able to find them. In fact, I also discussed the major "your dad lost his boots" problem with my son yesterday as he was missing his own boots. Lucas could not believe his Dad lost a pair of hiking boots---well, yes he could. I think it is time for Dave to begin the process of picking out some new boots. It is time.
And this time, maybe we can get them implanted with a micro-chip.
The magazine section of Sunday's Seattle Times/PI devoted most of itself to how wonderful Seattle is, yet again! As I have stated before on this blog, Seattleites love talking about themselves. Collective narcissism is definitely part of our culture. I was planning to write about the Sunday article because it fits with one of the many themes of my blog but----been there; done that. But, I could not resist the photo and at least one quote which will lead me to my blog topic of the day.
The piece is entitled "Beautiful, Smart, and a Little Wild" (yea, that's us) and actually consists of excerpts from the book, "Seattle, Coming of Age" by Joel W. Rogers. Undoubtedly, I want the book because I am as narcissistic as any Seattleite.
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/pacificnw05072006/coverstory.html
And the quote:
"Our gray-green muted world seems reflected in our politeness and our political correctness, a badge of living here. We stand up with a breathtaking pride for our motley architecture and flailing sports teams, our insular provincialism and our legendary rain. But it is the way we live, our NPR-listening, black Lab-loving, electric guitar-inventing, REI-shopping, book-reading, sea-kayaking life in Seattle that signals to others an enviable if damp happiness."
Alright, let us get specific. Sincerely, a big topic of my family's conversations is the perfect "boot" for hiking. Just yesterday I was talking to my son on the phone; he is still in France and he seems to be going through the shoes with all of his exploring of Poland and Germany and England and such. He wishes he had his beloved hiking boots but they were just too cumbersome to take. He actually stated that he "loved" his boots. I completely understand because I, too, love my boots. And when I clunked the boots on the patio table to take this photo this morning, Apolo became very excited and wiggly. He loves the boots, too, because the smell means wonderful hiking fun to him.
Lukie's boot and my boot
The perfect boot is completely dependent on how it feels after a significant hike; there is nothing worse than blisters and sore feet after only two miles and every single hiker I know has had this experience. The perfect boot may or may not be expensive. Hiking experience just tells you when you try a pair on and walk around the store whether any little rub will turn into a blister down the road. My boots were cheap but they felt great from the beginning and never have I had a problem. Unfortunately, one of these days, my beloveds will need to be replaced. Lucas's boots were pricey but Grandma helped as part of a birthday gift and believe me, this was a big deal. My son was on the phone with me salivating over these boots at a sporting goods store in Montana. They turned out to be great boots. Such a purchase to us is as important as an automobile.
In the Seattle Times today was an article about a backpacking equipment company that caters to women. Evidently, they have developed the perfect hiking boot and this morning, I was drooling over this picture. My daughter lusts after all of the fancy shoes at Nordstroms but me---??? Ah, look at this-----wow, look at this lovely item:
"The Blue Ridge GTX boot, in Nubuck leather, is tailored to women's feet and how women walk, down to details such as footfall pressure."
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/traveloutdoors/2002985166_nwwmothersday11.html
Which brings me to my husband. Oh, my husband, what can I say? He is brilliant and appeared on the ABC Evening News--the national news--on Friday discussing parental concern over toxic exposures; he has just come out with a new book; and he is about to go to Washington DC to advise uppity decider folks about a dangerous carcinogen. But his major concern at the moment is that he has LOST HIS HIKING BOOTS. My husband has all of the attributes of an absent-minded proefessor but, I mean, how can you lose your hiking boots? Practically every night for the last two months he has come home from work and the search begins again. He does not hike as much as he used to nor does he hike as much as I do which means there are longer time spans between use. Frankly, I think his beloved boots became angry with him over lack of exercise and they trudged away.
Or, they might be on the balcony of that place we stayed in Whistler last summer. Hmmm! Dave's boots come with a story. When we were living in France ten years ago while Dave was spending time at the cancer branch of the WHO, we visited the French Alps. One of the boot boutiques in Chamonix had a terrific sale (plus at that time the U.S. dollar was worth a hellava lot more and we had a different president). He bought these beautiful hiking boots for not much money.
We were staying on an upper floor of this narrow tall old European hotel that was built around a tiny courtyard. No access existed to the courtyard except through a locked private door on the first floor. Dave was leaning out the window spraying waterproof formula on his new boots when one of the brand new boots slipped from his grip and tumbled several floors down to the courtyard below. "Oh my, I wonder how many people saw a boot flying by their window!" I remarked.
"You speak French--go down there and find somebody to unlock the door and get my boot.....please?" Dave pleaded.
"Ah, it is your boot. You dropped it. I don't speak French well enough to figure out how to explain that my husband's boot is in the courtyard. They will think I threw it at you."
"But I don't speak a word---you have to go get it for me," he insisted.
Needless to say after more conversation, my husband went after his own boot. He did a lot of pointing into the courtyard. I still remember my stomach hurting and my eyes watering from laughing so hard as the kids and I watched the door below being unlocked so Dave could retrieve his boot. Crazy Americans!
The boots have served him well over the years and he has grown to love them like we do with our boots here in the Puget Sound area. He has been quite upset about not being able to find them. In fact, I also discussed the major "your dad lost his boots" problem with my son yesterday as he was missing his own boots. Lucas could not believe his Dad lost a pair of hiking boots---well, yes he could. I think it is time for Dave to begin the process of picking out some new boots. It is time.
And this time, maybe we can get them implanted with a micro-chip.
// posted by Janet @ 8:34 AM
0 comments
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Haven't Posted in While!
A week ago I found out that one of my best friends in the world has only a couple of months to live. Her name is Patti O. and she is well known in Mukilteo for a variety of things. She was devoted to her church, the youth and our schools; she was a dedicated nurse with a Master's Degree in cardiac care; she cared for and had concern for those who had need of food and medical care in our community. But probably, she was best known in Mukilteo for her brave fight against breast cancer which she won ten years ago. A different, unrelated cancer is now about to take her life as it spreads to her liver and her lungs. She is one of those people where you ask, "Why, oh why?" This is not fair. The world still needs her. Her husband of twenty-five years still needs her and her only child--her 23 year old daughter who wants to plan a wedding still needs her. And doggone it--I still need her to be my friend.
Patti moved with her family from Mukilteo to Pennsylvania four years ago so her husband could advance his career at Penn State. We have missed them terribly though we have kept up with each other's lives. Yesterday, I wrote this tribute for her for Mother's Day:
Happy Mother’s Day, Patti! May 6th, 2006
Do I remember when I first met you? I can picture the occasion clearly in my head. We had met Curt earlier, of course. During the time he was seeking to return to the University of Washington from Vermont, we had him to our house for dinner. At that time we lived in Seattle proper not far from the U. He told us that his wife was from Montana—Billings to be exact and that she went to Montana State University. Dave and I realized that you must have been at MSU during the same years we were. We immediately liked Curt so we knew we’d like you.
When you arrived in Seattle, we invited your family to our house for dinner. Julie was a new baby at the time so this must have been 23 years ago. I remember watching you walk down the gravel walkway to our house carrying Julie in a baby carrier. Probably, I noticed your smile first of all. I was so happy because I knew we would become good friends from that point on.
It is hard for me to limit writing about you when we are talking about 23 years of friendship. So many moments stand out in my mind so I will try to give highlights. I remember when we became pregnant with Lucas---Julie was just two years old. Students and friends from the U gave us a baby shower and you and Curt came with little darling Julie. Julie was so bright and involved that we let her open all of the baby gifts. Little did we know at that moment that Julie would be one of the most important individuals in both of my children’s lives.
At first, I am not sure Julie liked baby Lucas so much. Our husbands had a meeting in Newport, Oregon when Lucas was only four months old. We decided it would be fun to accompany them and bring our little ones. Lucas was a difficult baby and he cried and screamed with colic until he was nearly a year old. While you and I were doing some sight seeing in Newport with Julie and Lucas in car seats, Lucas’s relentless screaming caused Julie to break into tears. She couldn’t stand him and we both started to laugh—-two screaming, crying unhappy children and we were just trying to have fun!
Twenty-three years—-this is hard—-so very hard for me to write. You are the reason we moved to Mukilteo. By the time Julie was five and Lucas was three, we had baby Kaley and we were outgrowing our Seattle house. Plus, Lucas was about to enter school. You had already moved to Mukilteo and you liked the school district so you invited us to your brand new beautiful view home in Mukilteo for New Year’s Day. It was just the four of us plus our three little ones and we ate pizza. You drove us around to show us the neighborhood, the new schools and the new homes being built. I remember I worried about moving in next door to you because I didn’t want to be the annoying neighbors who followed you everywhere. But we loved it.
Within the next weeks, I drove from Seattle to Mukilteo and dropped baby Kaley off at your house while I looked at houses. We found one in the next cul de sac over and thus began our years of not only our husbands being colleagues, but we were neighbors, friends and frankly---we were family.
I don’t go to Jazzersize any more—because you moved away. We kept each other involved in the two to three morning per week routine. A few minutes before it was time to leave, you’d call. "Are you about ready?" Even if I did not feel like working out, I’d always go because the company was fun. Yes, we were usually late and afterwards we’d go to coffee and come home and chat in the driveway. I’d never get anything done on those days. But we talked about everything including our children, our dogs, and we solved all sorts of the world’s problems. Patti, I will always cherish our driveway chats—-forever and ever.
My favorite times were the holidays we shared. Mother’s days, Easters, Thanksgivings and Christmases. We traded having dinners at each other’s houses. You expected our cranberry orange relish and we expected your scalloped potatoes. Frankly, your fabulous potatoes were the only thing picky Lucas would eat and even now he expects them every holiday. I loved these get togethers; our tables would be decorated; we’d have wine and good food; stories we’d laugh about; the kids would play together; and we’d play with our dogs: Cory or Jed or Jeb or Chuck. Because most people get together with family at these times, my children actually thought Julie was their cousin.
I asked my children today to give me a memory of our times together and both of them responded that you, Patti, have been a huge part of their entire lives. They both mentioned the potatoes but I know Lucas remembers how Julie saved his life at your house. The kids were all upstairs playing and Lucas choked on a piece of candy. You, being the great nurse that you are, had taught Julie as a little girl the Heimlich maneuver. She "heimliched" Lucas and the candy popped out and rolled down the steps. Needless to say, we are eternally grateful. Kaley, of course, remembers playing dress up with the marvelous hats and fancy play clothes Julie had. She always admired Julie and her participation in the Kamiak musicals and she influenced Kaley’s desire to go in the same direction. I even remember borrowing an old costume for Kaley that you had made for Julie.
My mother, Ginnie, who is here with us now, wants to chime in that you, Patti, had picked her up at the airport in Seattle one time when I wasn’t able to get there---probably due to one of three or four music lesson conflicts. I have no memory of that at all but I do know that always, you were willing to step in if my life was too hectic!
Finally, one of the spectacular highlights of our lives is our trip to Italy with you and Curt. It will forever be a source of the great stories we share at holiday time. Backing into light poles, hiking in the Cinque Terra, or sending back bad wine are all now a part of "our family" lore. Patti, you were so beautiful on that trip and you had so much fun buying cute clothes to take—including those darling purple shoes.
We love you---forever! Janet, Dave, Lucas, and Kaley
Patti won't need to charge through the gates of heaven.
The Gates of Heaven will be wide open with a big welcome sign.
(photo taken in Italy amongst Carrera marble--Michaelangelo's favorite)
A week ago I found out that one of my best friends in the world has only a couple of months to live. Her name is Patti O. and she is well known in Mukilteo for a variety of things. She was devoted to her church, the youth and our schools; she was a dedicated nurse with a Master's Degree in cardiac care; she cared for and had concern for those who had need of food and medical care in our community. But probably, she was best known in Mukilteo for her brave fight against breast cancer which she won ten years ago. A different, unrelated cancer is now about to take her life as it spreads to her liver and her lungs. She is one of those people where you ask, "Why, oh why?" This is not fair. The world still needs her. Her husband of twenty-five years still needs her and her only child--her 23 year old daughter who wants to plan a wedding still needs her. And doggone it--I still need her to be my friend.
Patti moved with her family from Mukilteo to Pennsylvania four years ago so her husband could advance his career at Penn State. We have missed them terribly though we have kept up with each other's lives. Yesterday, I wrote this tribute for her for Mother's Day:
Happy Mother’s Day, Patti! May 6th, 2006
Do I remember when I first met you? I can picture the occasion clearly in my head. We had met Curt earlier, of course. During the time he was seeking to return to the University of Washington from Vermont, we had him to our house for dinner. At that time we lived in Seattle proper not far from the U. He told us that his wife was from Montana—Billings to be exact and that she went to Montana State University. Dave and I realized that you must have been at MSU during the same years we were. We immediately liked Curt so we knew we’d like you.
When you arrived in Seattle, we invited your family to our house for dinner. Julie was a new baby at the time so this must have been 23 years ago. I remember watching you walk down the gravel walkway to our house carrying Julie in a baby carrier. Probably, I noticed your smile first of all. I was so happy because I knew we would become good friends from that point on.
It is hard for me to limit writing about you when we are talking about 23 years of friendship. So many moments stand out in my mind so I will try to give highlights. I remember when we became pregnant with Lucas---Julie was just two years old. Students and friends from the U gave us a baby shower and you and Curt came with little darling Julie. Julie was so bright and involved that we let her open all of the baby gifts. Little did we know at that moment that Julie would be one of the most important individuals in both of my children’s lives.
At first, I am not sure Julie liked baby Lucas so much. Our husbands had a meeting in Newport, Oregon when Lucas was only four months old. We decided it would be fun to accompany them and bring our little ones. Lucas was a difficult baby and he cried and screamed with colic until he was nearly a year old. While you and I were doing some sight seeing in Newport with Julie and Lucas in car seats, Lucas’s relentless screaming caused Julie to break into tears. She couldn’t stand him and we both started to laugh—-two screaming, crying unhappy children and we were just trying to have fun!
Twenty-three years—-this is hard—-so very hard for me to write. You are the reason we moved to Mukilteo. By the time Julie was five and Lucas was three, we had baby Kaley and we were outgrowing our Seattle house. Plus, Lucas was about to enter school. You had already moved to Mukilteo and you liked the school district so you invited us to your brand new beautiful view home in Mukilteo for New Year’s Day. It was just the four of us plus our three little ones and we ate pizza. You drove us around to show us the neighborhood, the new schools and the new homes being built. I remember I worried about moving in next door to you because I didn’t want to be the annoying neighbors who followed you everywhere. But we loved it.
Within the next weeks, I drove from Seattle to Mukilteo and dropped baby Kaley off at your house while I looked at houses. We found one in the next cul de sac over and thus began our years of not only our husbands being colleagues, but we were neighbors, friends and frankly---we were family.
I don’t go to Jazzersize any more—because you moved away. We kept each other involved in the two to three morning per week routine. A few minutes before it was time to leave, you’d call. "Are you about ready?" Even if I did not feel like working out, I’d always go because the company was fun. Yes, we were usually late and afterwards we’d go to coffee and come home and chat in the driveway. I’d never get anything done on those days. But we talked about everything including our children, our dogs, and we solved all sorts of the world’s problems. Patti, I will always cherish our driveway chats—-forever and ever.
My favorite times were the holidays we shared. Mother’s days, Easters, Thanksgivings and Christmases. We traded having dinners at each other’s houses. You expected our cranberry orange relish and we expected your scalloped potatoes. Frankly, your fabulous potatoes were the only thing picky Lucas would eat and even now he expects them every holiday. I loved these get togethers; our tables would be decorated; we’d have wine and good food; stories we’d laugh about; the kids would play together; and we’d play with our dogs: Cory or Jed or Jeb or Chuck. Because most people get together with family at these times, my children actually thought Julie was their cousin.
I asked my children today to give me a memory of our times together and both of them responded that you, Patti, have been a huge part of their entire lives. They both mentioned the potatoes but I know Lucas remembers how Julie saved his life at your house. The kids were all upstairs playing and Lucas choked on a piece of candy. You, being the great nurse that you are, had taught Julie as a little girl the Heimlich maneuver. She "heimliched" Lucas and the candy popped out and rolled down the steps. Needless to say, we are eternally grateful. Kaley, of course, remembers playing dress up with the marvelous hats and fancy play clothes Julie had. She always admired Julie and her participation in the Kamiak musicals and she influenced Kaley’s desire to go in the same direction. I even remember borrowing an old costume for Kaley that you had made for Julie.
My mother, Ginnie, who is here with us now, wants to chime in that you, Patti, had picked her up at the airport in Seattle one time when I wasn’t able to get there---probably due to one of three or four music lesson conflicts. I have no memory of that at all but I do know that always, you were willing to step in if my life was too hectic!
Finally, one of the spectacular highlights of our lives is our trip to Italy with you and Curt. It will forever be a source of the great stories we share at holiday time. Backing into light poles, hiking in the Cinque Terra, or sending back bad wine are all now a part of "our family" lore. Patti, you were so beautiful on that trip and you had so much fun buying cute clothes to take—including those darling purple shoes.
We love you---forever! Janet, Dave, Lucas, and Kaley
Patti won't need to charge through the gates of heaven.
The Gates of Heaven will be wide open with a big welcome sign.
(photo taken in Italy amongst Carrera marble--Michaelangelo's favorite)
// posted by Janet @ 3:05 PM
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