Skip to main content
I had the briefest of all brief visits with my family in the Valley a week or so ago. Josh, unable to write a paper without resources, had to make a trip down to Azusa Pacific...I packed up the kids, and drove the extra thirty minutes to my mother's house. She had seen my Uncle Tony, Aunt Marlene, cousin Andy and his daughter Leyla walking up toward my Grandparent's house on the corner, so we went right up.
My cousin Dave was also there, so it was a very nice reunion. My Umpa suggested that we go look at the goats, so we walked the three blocks to my Aunt Angie's house. The goats were pretty skittish- Andy's attempt to, "grab the little one, " did not help them feel more comfortable. The chickens still enjoyed watching them. Jack, especially, is a big fan of the, "dotes."
What a pleasure it is to live so close to my family! The only problem, as I see it, with our life in California is the distance my very loved Tate family.

Nanny and Jack had "bonded"- not that they needed more bond- when we left the chillens with her while we lived it up at the CCCA conference.



Dotes and Nanny...what more could he want?


Aunt Marlene, ever on the lookout for staging opportunities, told the very willing chickens to go hide in the bushes...like little elves, or leprechauns.








Jack joined in, unsure at first.


I think he liked it toward the end.





The wagon load for home.



Andy likes to skateboard. Just thought that I'd let you know.





It was full-fledged Spring down in the Valley- the cool, but not cold, night air...the smell of millions of orange blossoms permeating the air...it sunk into my bloodstream, and our thirty degree weather up on the mountain leaves me feeling...bereft.



Certainly, more days like this are to come!

Comments

marlene said…
I love the pictures. Thankyou for humoring me!
Love,
Aunt Marlene
Sandy said…
I love those pictures of Jack and Nanny. They're sweet. I also know the sentiment, although it's been a while, of a lingering winter that just won't break. I can remember cranking Dido with the windows down on the first warm day in MAAAAANNNNNYY on my way home to that crack shack in Hume Senior year. Then it snowed.

Popular posts from this blog

Summer in Florida

This is our fourth summer in Florida- a number that amazes me.  I still don't feel at home here, although  I know my way around.  I don't feel completely out of place in the supermarket, but I have this suspicion that everyone knows I'm not from here, and they know that they don't know me.  That special kind of paranoia belongs to the homesick, and even while I acknowledge its foolishness, I still feel it.
Summers- I may have mentioned this before- are the worst. 
     It's partly an issue of comfort, or rather, of discomfort.  The long summer days are hot and sticky, the bugs are ravenous and abundant, the plants are vindictive with thorns and poison, and the air itself is attempting to decompose your body 37% faster than air in dryer climes.*  If there is a spring or pool to soak yourself in, it's fine, pleasant, even, because there are no ticks in the water, and you can usually avoid mosquitoes under the water.  To Florida's credit, there are any nu…

And he's gone.

The last week has been all craziness and preparation, poor schooling and frustration.  After a long decline, my Umpa passed away on Tuesday...this picture, above, was of him before we left for Florida, and in the last three years, he has lost the joy and comfort of being alive.  His death doesn't seem overwhelmingly sad in and of itself- he was 91 years old, in constant pain, and missing my Grandma all of the time.  To be removed from suffering makes death a kindness.
It's what his death means to my family that makes it sad.  This is our Patriarch- a man that presided over all aspects of our family with strong opinions and countless sayings.  His generosity was unbelievable.  He valued his family- he taught us all to value our family.
When my Grandma died five years ago, our cultural decline began- at her funeral, three separate cousins confided in me that Umpa was soon to follow- he felt this way, too, and longed for it, I think, although my Umpa was not a quitter, and if th…

Jack, who is 9, and Miles, who is 7.

This is Jack.  He loves zip-ties and drawing.  He has a best friend named Dan.  He will be 10 in less than a month.  His favorite food is "nutella crepes."  He wants to be an artist.  Or an actor.  He wants to do a lot of different things, all at once. 

 This is Miles.  He is 7- he will be eight in July.  He likes lots of things in general and not so much specifically.  He is a picky eater.  He wants to sleep like a burrito, and never make his bed.  He never has a problem finding a friend to play with on the playground- on any playground.  His best friend is Michael.

These boys seek each other out, and want to play with each other, but at any moment- ANY MOMENT- it might become a violent and loud fight.  What was play one second ago becomes a battle this second.  The worst punishment I can give them is to not let them play with each other.