Don't Take No For An Answer!

They look like dolphins, I know that.  But they are NOT!  They are whales and they were gorgeous.  Fine, we can see that but what does that have to do with not taking "no" for an answer Kelli?

Let's go backwards from this glorious moment of experiencing the wonder of whales in the wild to what happened three hours earlier.  (I'll try not to go on and on!)  

I booked this tour, see, for my Aunt Robin, a great friend, Liz S. and myself.  Turned out that when I called to confirm, as you do, there were no spaces left on the boat.  I felt totally accountable since it was late notice.   Me, being me, said,  "I see.  Well thanks anyway.  Maybe we can come another day."  Never mind that I had been working full steam to pull this off.  Schedules had been changed, favors had been asked, all roads were leading to a highly anticipated day out on the ocean.  

Well, in short order Miss Liz arrives.  Upon hearing my woeful tale she marches me right upstairs to the phone.  "Don't take no for an answer!"   "Call them back."  Me, being me, said, "o.k."  Wouldn't you know the gal offered to get us in on another vessel.   After many phone calls back and forth between the gal that was helping us and the company that signed us on, some serious driving during rush hour traffic and a mad (and might I add clumsy) dash through Sea World's maze of a path to the dock we finally arrived huffing and puffing and only slightly mortified to have held a massive touring boat with all of it's guests up for 10 minutes.  Ooops!

It turned out to be THE perfect day of whale watching.  We whooped it up yelling, per the captain's helper's  direction, for them to come say hi.  We waved our arms and stamped our feet along with the rest of the folks eager to attract who we were dying to see up close.  Unbelievably they came.  The rolled and dove.  We saw a pod of 2 then a pod of 3 come cruise right next to the ship.  I swear they were looking at us, checking us out.  It was truly fantastic.

There was even time to catch a bite to eat at a cafe along the ocean and shop for treasures.  In fact, Robin found the perfect didgeridoo for her son and some darling little goodies to take home for her daughter.  All in all it was a day I am soooo glad we didn't give away to a simple "no".

Lovely Lady with her Linens

This is my sweet friend June.   I have enjoyed getting to know her over the past few months.   She and her husband, Martin, share a home with her youngest daughter, Liz (my wonderful buddy) and her family.   Since Martin suffers with Alzheimer's June's life is mostly about his care.   Her back hurts, she has sore knees, there's and issue with her blood pressure and lately she has been sidelined by migraines.  Talk about endure to the end!!  So if anyone had a great excuse for letting the housework suffer it would be June.  Heaven knows the slightest distraction can keep me from it!  Long story short, I was borrowing some sheets for a guest and happened to get a good look at the linen closet that June maintains.  I was shocked!  While I stood, mouth agape, staring in disbelief she fussed about how there were a few things out of order and "wouldn't it be nice if she could clean that bottom shelf up a bit".   As it turns out she was just as tidy when her little ones were little.  By the way gals, she bore 5 children in 6 years!  My friend Liz was the caboose arriving nine years after number 5.  She's not sure why but keeping a tidy place and organized space has always come easily to her.  Well June, of your many talents this is one sure to impress.  I love you and thanks for letting me share it.  

A few pics from Vanuatu

My that's a big turtle you have there.  What do you do with that?  Eat?  Are you kidding?  Oh, the whole village eats off it.  For ceremonies?  Ah, I see.  Good idea.  Maybe we'll just throw a gigantic wooden turtle on the table at the next family reunion to cut down on clean up.  Brilliant!
Kava, freshly picked, dried and ready to grind.  Add water and you have the most popular drink in all the islands of Vanuatu.  Each island has a kava plant different than all the others.  They ship heaps of it to Fiji, Samoa, The Solomon Islands, New Caledonia and Hawaii.  It acts as a mucle relaxer and something else I can't remember.  It was a major part of each nightly ritual.  
Our little pyro's dream life, fires (four in one room!) in the house!!  They were exceptional at building long lasting hot fires and they keep them going all night long.  The smoke works it's way out the woven ceilings.  Yes, it's hard to breath, but you're so darn tired sleep does come.
Big scary warrior!  This is John and his little boy.  Too gorgeous.  Or as they might say in Bislama, Gorgus tomas!

Jeremy was the only one to get this kind of VIP treatment!

This is our guide family.  Bart and boys with Vira, Mura, Donald (forward), Vitu (in blue), Alexi (Namba 1 Guide Leader) and Avo.  They were extremely helpful and carried ridiculous quantities of our stuff (most of it unnecessary!) up that trail.  Could not have done it without them.   

This was taken from the road looking up towards our destination.  Maracae is nestled somewhere behing those clouds on that furthest mountain top.  Boy was I excited!  (whatever!)

New Friends

In this first pic, Chris,a very nice young man innocently handed over the phone number to the resort he was headed to while we chatted at the airport.  Little did any of us know that we would end up being roommates!  We really enjoyed getting to know him and hearing about his diving adventures.  He had a knack for getting to know folks and always came back with  a new story on the interesting character he'd spent the afternoon chatting with.   Thanks for taking us in!  Remember, be careful who you talk to in the airport!


Pic number 2 is from left to right, Madison, Sadie, Julie and Jordan.  Julie is with the Peace Corp.  These are some of the family she was hosting during her break/vacation.  Her job as the only Peace Corp worker on her island is daunting but you can tell by her countenance that the sacrifice and challenge of it has it's reward.  It was great to get to know these guys a little bit.  Hope your travels continued safely and well.  Our best to Madison and Jordan in their studies and to Sadie and Grace (not shown) with those tough adolescent years!  

Number 3  is Maurine.  We got her as a birthday present for both boys!  They seemed very pleased and vied constantly for her attention.  She is a French foreign exchange student with a feisty personality that won these boys' hearts from the first time she warned them during the night games, "You scare.  I FIGHT!"  You can tell she comes from having two brothers!

Thank you Maurine for making the Vanuatu trip one they'll remember forever.  Or at least they'll remember YOU forever!  We hope you enjoy you last few weeks in Australia and that somewhere down the line we'll see you again.  

In the 5th pic you'll find the lady that forged the friendships in the very begining with all her raucous rounds of cards.  Elizabeth broke the ice for Maurine and the boys and then integrated everybody into the huge Scouting activity she had part in planning over the last 18 months.  Our guys felt part of the gang and made so many friends.  It was a spectacular time for them.  I am still not sure how she and the other scout leaders (she's pictured with key leader of the Vanuatu scouts, Calva (sp?) kept up the pace of it all.  There were activities daily including many of the local scouts.  They even built a flying fox!  My favorite memory will be the one of the scouts silhouetted against a huge bonfire next to the ocean at the Lonnoc bungalows and listening to them singing in the night.

This last photo looks all sweetsie but what the pic doesn't show is that moments before she purposely whacked him right on his sunburned back.  He's protecting himself and getting ready for the next attack!  Don't get me wrong.  Inspite of the pain he 's loving EVERY minute of it!  Hee, hee

Mud, Steamed Bananas and Naked Ladies (Part I)

Life hands us remarkable opportunities to learn and grow.  Sometimes the very thing that beckons for a blessing is the thing that fills our souls with dread.  So, even if you find yourself near tears at the thought of it you must pack your bags (and fears), gather your courage (along with as many snacks as can fit in your fannypack), put on your (sorta) smiley face and go.   The opportunity?  A four day, 3 night trek into a village called Maracae.  The blessing?  Well, read for yourself:

My gut told me that Bart's last minute plan to take a guided tour into the mountain rainforest to find the most primitive villages existing in the archipelago of Vanuatu was, though not altogether bad, going to be awful.   I am not proud to say that the little voice in his head that whispers, "Go where no (or at least, the fewer the better) man has gone before" was nearly attacked by the little guy on my shoulder screaming, "Are you crazy?!  What about a hot shower?  Feeding the kids?  Our safety? Drinking water?  Malaria? A bed?!!"  

Thankfully, my fearful cries were met with calm assurance that it would be a wonderful adventure of a lifetime.  So inspite of the sure knowledge that the boys and  I were doomed to suffer for 4 solid days (love that attitude, hee, hee) I climbed, of my own free will and choice,  right into the truck while the boys and Bart jumped in the back for a long ride out on a pot holed road over washed out bridges to the starting point of our trek to Maracae at the village of Namoru.

There we met our 6 porters who would come to know as:  Alexi, Our leader and "Namba one kide!", Vitu the Mt. Man and class clown, Maru, Pumpkin Man, who is originally from the village of Maracae and who would at one point on the last night show up in full "kastom" dress to make the kava for the evening like some warrior from the jungle (Did I detect a tinge of insecurity in my cute hubby when faced with such raw testosterone in his comment, "That Maru is quite the specimen."), Vira, who would become my quiet friend, always making an effort to translate, always there with a vice like grip supporting me across the rocks, Donald  and Avo singers of silly songs (I like to move it, move it!)and shepherds to their two younger followers, Riley and Jeremy, always taking to the front.   

After the intial awkward minutes of our first meeting, the shifting of gear to balance weight in the packs, hunting up a couple of extra packs for the village gifts of sugar, salt, tea, cigarettes and flour (basically our payment for staying the night) then trying to strap Bart's gigantic pack onto a little Vitu, we were off.  Little did we know how key these 6 boys were to our successful completion of this endeavor. 

For our barefoot locals it was a strenuous but typical effort leading to family and friends.  For two less than perfectly fit, slightly overweight grown ups it was akin to a last minute, poorly planned Grand Teton summit.  As for the solemn 14 year old it seemed another annoying yet tolerable life experience at the request of his parents which he would do his best to endure.  Our 11 yr old had put up quite a fuss originally but ultimately was more or less contented to  walk through the village, along the Wailapa river towards a world of mud, steamed bananas and naked ladies.

Why is that the title anyway?  There were loads of options, Vanuatu Vacation, Roughin' It in the Rainforest, Kastom Kulture, Lost on Vanuatu, Bare Breasts and Penis Sheaths (forgive me, but, yes, it was an option).   After the fact, am I that simple?  Those are the 3 points of major interest?  Hmmm, o.k.

After about 40 minutes it got dangerous.  Seriously.  The pleasant trail disappeared.  I was like an ignorant beast of burden following my leader.  Common sense told me we couldn't  continue on.  There was no path.  And then there I was, clinging to the face of a wall of rock that appeared abruptly.   The porter in front of me indicated the  tiniest outcrops for placing 1/2 a foot or a toe tip.  It was slick and wet.  I worried about my children, for like, 2 whole minutes.  To my surprise the job of  self preservation was a nice distractioin.  Plus, there was nothing I could do to help them.  We were clearly at the mercy of these 6 new people in our lives, the weather, the elements, and the villagers we were yet to meet.

From there on out much of the trip was about survival.  We gasped with each step up each mountain side (Who needs switchbacks?  Let's just go straight up!) and slipped our way down the back of it.  I found myself needing to reassure my knees and quads, "Don't worry.  When we get back I promise not to MOVE for a month!!"  I couldn't get enough water which was in short supply.  I was sooo thirsty most of that first day.    There were several places where we forged barefoot across the river.  Where it was possible to keep shoes on we hopped from rock to rock with the aid of helpful hands for support.   

I noted that being the "man" of our family Bart was more inclined to fall in the river.  It wasn't until after several such spills that he was able to swallow his "tough" guy pride and take the help offered him.  Who can blame him?  He's climbed mountains in Peru, repelled massive drops in  Kolob Canyon, summited the Grand Teton no less than 2 times, waded the Amazon river and forest (With his Mom, by the way!  You go Girl!!) and ridden (with absolutely NO previous training) his bicycle 2500 miles from Vancouver, Canada to Anchorage, Alaska.  Now he's supposed to allow himself to hold hands with a 24 year old Vanuatu boy (who is already carrying his backpack!) to cross a little river!!?  Are you kidding?  Nope.  In the end the blisters, bad back, sore knees and ruined camera won out for the more humble approach.  Good man Bart.  I love you.

So where was I?  This trip  of all trips.  The trip Bartman probably always dreamed of and I have certainly dreaded is now tucked deep in our hearts, tattooed on our muscles and bubbles away in our memory.  You'll see.  If you have time, keep reading.

Within 2 hours we arrived at the first of several villages we were yet to see, Jarakatui.  We quickly learned that during daylight hours most people were out in the gardens deep in the hillsides. It is custom to leave one or two men and a woman with the young children.  This is where we saw John.  Dressed in traditional thick woven belt with finely woven apron, he stood like a tall, dark, muscled soldier of the forest.  His hair was shorn except for one patch of 3 short braids at the crown.  He would have been extremely intimidating except for the green blankie holding a sweetly sleeping baby in his arms.  The gushy little smile he made looking down at her melted out hearts.  Fortunately, Bart got a great picture!  It's one we treasure.

Every bit as impressive, the Chief's Son acknowledged us then disappeared as we sat dripping in sweat, catching our breath and smiling and nodding while John and the woman and children in camp shyly eyed us.  We heard a whack, whack sound and looked at Alexi.  "He's cutting sticks for walking.  For you."  Within in 5 minutes he was back with a great walking stick for each of the 4 white people.  Man was he good with that machete!  I would have taken  hours hacking away to make something much less useful.  And it made all the difference.  From that moment our sticks were our best friends.  

The break was sweet but short.  Amazingly we were back on the trail and moving up another mountain side.  We passed the Natangora trees that are used for building the kastom houses.  The boys pointed out the Kava plant and the many different kinds of banana trees.  Maru climbed a gigantic Pomplemousse (a huge grapefruit) tree and dropped as many as he could reach or shake off.  The boys cut them into juicy quarters.  It was a deliciously refreshing treat.  (One that we could come to crave right up to the last minute before leaving to catch our flight home.)  The rainforest is thick with countless bushes, grasses, ground covers, trees and vines of all kinds.  I loved the purple flowers and the tall red ginger plants.  Once we stumbled on a mama goat and her twin kids.  Another time a cow tied to a tree.  There were a few pigs along the way as well.  Fortunately, no snakes.  

With the concentration on the work of climbing and dropping it was late in the hike on the first day before I took a moment to look back from the considerable elevation we had attained.  Oh my word.  It was incredible.  My eyes followed the glimpses of river shining down in the valley to the edge of the ocean filling the distant floor.  Floating in it but also somehow just above it was an island.  There was a misty element that suspended this mass of earth just about 1/2 mile off shore.  I hope there's a good pic of that.   It was pretty cool.

Finally we stopped for the night at the village of Tabunbotari  All I wanted was out of my shoes!!  After a good scrub in the creek it was time to meet the Chief Chaunbose.  He was tiny.  So skinny and shy.  He shook our hands, assigned us to a different hut and then mostly lay on his mat until time for the ceremony.  Soon the guides were busy preparing the kava by putting the peeled branches and roots through a meat grinder then mixing it with water, straining it and mixing it again ( it took till the 3rd day to see the whole process).  We were kept separate from the house where the the woman was cooking.  I asked the boys to tell her I would help do anything but she didn't want help to the point of seeming nonplussed at my asking so I happily took my weary bones off to sit on a bench in front of the hut while the boys killed some time till dinner playing cards.  We were awfully wet, tired, dirty and hungry.

"Number one rule.  You must have ceremony with Chief." Once the kava was prepared they brought it in a bucket with old mugs.  The chief gives a welcome speech (very short in order to get to the best part, gifts and kava).  Bart (I guess he would be considered our chief, hee, hee) then handed him the plastic bag loaded with goods.  Next, Chief Chaunbose gives Bart a mug of kava.  Bart drinks it.  Everyone claps.  Then the boys each get one.  They drink it one by one and everyone claps.  Then  Bart hands a mug to the Chief.  He drinks it.  Everyone claps.  Last, the boys and Bart hand out mugs to the guides.  They drink, one by one.  Everyone claps.  Got it?  Drink, clap.  Drink, clap.  That's a kastom kava ceremony.  Very romantic.  It happened similarly without fail every night.  After a couple of rounds we would be welcomed to stay or ushered to a hut for sleeping.  At one point I learned that Alexi typically drinks 35 shells of kava when he's working as a guide.  He told me, "I feel soo happy when I drink kava".  The boys said it tastes like dirty water and gives you a tinny taste in your mouth.  Later I confirmed my suspicions with a ward member that kava is completely off limits for Mormons.  Ooops.  Just between you and me, I am glad I didn't know for sure.  One morning I was the only one sick while the boys and Bart were healthy as ever.  We wondered if a shell of kava would have done me good!

Actually, a valium probably would have been more suitable for the first night.  All I remember of the sleeping part (o.k. the WISHING you were asleep part) was the hard dirt floor, a pervasive dampness, acrid smoke from 4 fires burning through the night and the quiet talk of the guides in Bislama as they lay cherishing the last puffs on their rationed cigarettes.  All night we woke from the pain of joints screaming for relief from the weight of our bodies.  I felt like a pig being roasted on a spit as made half turns that brought comfort for a moment and then the pain again.  It was a very looong night.

But let's not skip dinner shall we.  Here I take my hat off to our two boys.  When our meal arrived in a big metal pot and the lid was removed  to reveal soggy steamed bananas and cooked cabbage leaves they dug right in!  My boys ate bananas wrapped in wilted lettuce.  It was unnatural and wrong but they acted as if it was a weekly occurrence.  I heard not one complaint.  We all ate what we could and commented on the fact that it wasn't too bad.  No problem.  Thank you very much.  There may also have been some cooked taro.  I don't remember.  Just think bland and starchy and you'll have it.  I am happy to say that although the kastom village cuisine we encountered wasn't all extremely delicious (except for the Su Sut (squash with ginger and coconut milk) and the Lap Lap (crushed yams, taro or manioc steamed in leaves), oh, and the Naura (crayfish) which I was too ill to eat on that particular morning) it was all edible.

So you may be wondering about the naked ladies.  If you don't mind, I'll stop here for awhile and download a few pics.  How about Part II tomorrow?  Same time?  Same place?

Worms, Cool Baby and Eli Creek on Fraser.

1. 
   

More Fraser Pics

FRASER ISLAND IN WRITING

Combine the spirit of adventure with a dose of ignorance and what do you get?  Three adults,  2 teens and a 15 month old baby humming three hours down the road  towards a  4 x 4 beach camping weekend at Fraser Island.  Once you're on board the Inskip barge it's only 15 minutes to Hook Point.  They almost stop to let you off!   

There's a very teensy window of opportunity for accessing this spot on the beach for the return trip.  We should have paid a little more attention to that.  It wouldn't occur to us till much later, in fact, too late.  But, no worries, we were on our way up the Eastern Beach.  It was 75 miles of straight sand and shore line.  All we had to do was find our camp site, unload, set up tents and a kitchen and "Wa la!", play time!

After two hours of getting stuck, "Are we there yet?",  singing songs to our cranky baby, picking a spot on the map only to find it's "not quite right", nearly getting lost on and inland road, wondering if we had lost Baby and Mom when they wandered off for a gander of the Champagne Pools while Bart and I used the lovely outhouses, eating ham sandwiches and all the apples and oranges Liz prepared and packed we did choose and plant ourselves in a wonderful spot near the turn off for Ocean Lake.  

That's when the real work began.  Bart had to go back for water so that left me and the boys who, as lovely as they are, aren't the most industrious duo in town, to set up camp.  Riley was practically running the engineering of the tent for about 4 whole minutes then quickly lost interest.  Jeremy, well, he has perfected the craft of avoiding work so I don't even remember what he was supposed to do or why he didn't do it.   Past experience would tell me he was testing out the closest dune on his boogie board.  If you're a camper you already know we were in trouble with one person trying to put it all together and an evening meal lurking right around the corner.

I always forget that it's dark in the blink of an eye when you're out camping.  The minute you notice the sun going down, it's over.  So of course, it's dinner prep under the light of our decidedly wimpy lantern.  It takes a certain mindset to feed people when you have no table or cupboards or drawers or refrigerator or sink of any kind, one that, sadly, I was not in.  Let's just say it was a bit of a grump that pulled that meal off.   Not my proudest moment, but I must say that I got a lot more help the next day!

After all that whinging (aussie for whining) you might think that I didn't notice the gorgeous full moon that made the weak light of the lantern much more tolerable, the silver glow of the curling wave tops on the ocean, the cool sea breeze, the bird's talk out in the woods, the baby's laugh as the boys tickled and teased him,  the suspense of possible dingo's in camp or  my sister's quiet voice calming her little one in the night.  It's a special place and no amount of inconvenience, travel stress, ill preparation or bad mood could ruin a camping trip with my family on the world's largest sand island.

You may be wondering about that oversight that I foreshadowed earlier.  Yup, we missed the ferry.  The trip to the largest perched (meaning above ground water) lake called Boojerim set us back a good hour, just enough to make the point impassable because of high tide.  It meant a last minute new camp selection and set up by headlights.  Somehow we  scraped together leftovers and some cans of soup for dinner in mugs that we washed (never leave your dirty dishes for later!!) with 1/2 C of hot water.  Everyone worked together this time and it went quick and easy.  If not for the dew that soaked every single thing we left out and the surprise and very secret visit by the dingos it would hardly have been worth mentioning!  Oh and the fact that Bart HAD to make a conference call the next morning.  

I hope you enjoy the pictures up above.  They should be pretty self explanatory.  Since I haven't chosen them yet I can't exactly explain them all to you.  I do know there will be one of large worms.  They are elusive and practically impossible to catch so we were pretty proud of Bart who mastered the technique and Riley who spent hours on his knees in the surf to make his first big worm pull!  

Well, it's back to the dishes, getting the boys to bed (yup, they still like  the  "process" of it even if it is just family prayer, a bit of a chat, a hug and a kiss and turning their fans on) and winding down myself.

I love the exercise of blogging. It's good for me to spend the time giving literary life to the experiences of my life.  This is me thanking you for reading it.  If you didn't I wouldn't.      

That was funny.  Bart and me and baby (Let poor Liz get some sleep after a very long cold night holding him in the car) edging onto the beach at high tide desparate to get up the shore to where there might be a pay phone.  Amazingly we did find a phone.  Bartman had the exhilirating experience of a phone call to the main office in the states on a public telephone in the middle of nowhere.  He would talk for 10 second and the ZZZZZZZZZZZ the line would go dead, out of money.  Basically he had to pop change in every few seconds to keep the conversation going.  All to find out that the conference call had been changed to another day!!  Ha!  The best part was realizing that the bakery  was getting an early start on the day.  She agreed to serve us so we returned to camp as heros with our call accomplished  and bearing goodies of muffing, eclairs, and toasted ham/cheese croissants.  Mmmmm.  Nice.

Mommy Moment

Hey again. Yeah, I recovered from my one whole day of babysitting darling, dimpled, diaper man. We all survived. Liz was anxious to be back to her little one. He was thrilled to find her in her bed where she belonged this morning and I was relieved to be able to hand the reins back to my gorgeous sister. Watching her mother her sweet toddler through his breakfast and morning mischiefs I felt overwhelmed with love for this amazing woman. She possesses a remarkable strength for it. She is physically strong, easily lugging his 30 + pounds all over the place. Her spirit is strong. She loves enthusiastically with kisses and smiles and hugs. Somehow she knows all the tricks for appeasing his demanding personality without spoiling him rotten. It leaves me wondering what sort of mother I was. Was I cheerful? Did my boys have the slightest idea how much I love them? Oh well, it's never too late. I can't hardly lift them a centimeter off the floor these days. They would just as soon spend the night away from me with a friend much less cry "Mama" when they think of me and realize I am not there. Most of the time I get the rolling eyes if I want to "talk" about anything too serious. But...every night they want me to tuck them in and kiss them. I still feel that tender, eternal connection that a mother has for her child and I know that their young souls need that. I hope they always will. I know I will.

As a finale note, can I confess that at long last, after nearly 10 years, I am grateful I don't have a uterus.

Whew!

He's in bed. Sound asleep as far as I can tell.  

Will someone please tell me how anyone survives small children? How do you clean your teeth, make meals, keep up with laundry, fulfill church callings, have friends, read the sriptures, grocery shop, make your bed, work outside the home, volunteer in the schools and community, sleep and keep your marraige alive through the hours and hours that demanding little ones are awake?!! In the last couple of hours I have managed to feed him, put the dishes away, feed him some more, do (or should I say, help baby do) sommersaults, follow him around the porch while he pulled rocks out of the owner's potted plants, play with him in an empty tub, help him play in the kitchen sink, get him a drink or two, feed him some more, change his diaper, change his clothes, read him a story, sing him songs, put warm pants on him for his nap, put him in his crib, take him out into the kitchen to see if he needs a drink (nope, just wanted out) and finally settle him (or should I say quietly leave him screaming) in his little bed for a nap. Whew! Just about 8 more hours till Mama gets home, but who's counting?!!

Been Busy!!

It's been a wonderful time entertaining my sister Liz and her little Bennett.  We have been to the Ginger Factory for a rainy day of treats, train ride and a short themed boat ride.  Then we made it out to  Wellington Point just in time for an unbelieveable gorgeous sky.  Afterwards we went out for a real Aussie Burger (just throw on a slice of beetroot, an egg, and a big piece of middle rasher(bacon).  There was a lovely morning of park time where Liz and Bennett battled with sticks and  rode the swing.  Our life is better than ever, filled with the joy of baby talk and raisens and sippy cups.

I'm Getting Old

I notice my jowels (sp?) now.  They're beginning to sag, just like Grandma Hooten's did.  She was a beautiful woman but she did have heavy, baggy cheeks.  I love her.  I don't like my stage 2 jowels.  My  mom doesn't have them, by the way.  Don't ask me why I get them.

Gray hair is popping out of my head in very obvious places.  My little sister, Liz, used to pick them out "back in the day", just 10 years ago.  She would rummage around, find one and "plunk," it was out.  We would laugh, examine it and toss it aside.  Just a novelty, a silly distraction, sisterly bonding.  No big deal.  Now they're invasive.  I can see them clearly in recent pictures of me. 

My mother in law bought me a magnified mirror.  It's beautiful.  She has one and I had never considered asking for one like it, until last year.  I found myself borrowing hers to hunt down and remove the unlady like black hairs growing from my chin.  That mirror is incredible for that but it's been alarming to see my skin up that close.  I won't go into detail.  It's just too, well, yucky.  (I am trying to stay in denial as to the aging of my skin at this point).

There's more.  Today I realized that I am pushing pills on my  husband.  I give him one for his prostate (why take a chance?!), a multi-vitamin (the best I could buy), 2 vitamin C, and one called Gastro Health.  That one's tricky because you have to take it 30 min before you eat.  The vitamin is supposed to be taken with a meal.  Most of the time I can get most of it into him.  Today he reminded me that he's only humoring me.  I teased, "I gotta take good care of my man!"  As I walked back upstairs with his empty pill cup I knew my age.  

I know it.  I embrace it.  It's what I've wanted all along and I am getting it!!  Yeah!!!!

Worth the Wait

Straddy Sunrise

 Monday, pre-dawn, I walked out to the beach in the dark and sat up on the dune overlooking a huge ocean overhung by an enormous sky. 

 At first, it was stars and the sound of waves rushing and the invigorating, cool breeze off the water.  I wondered if I should go back for a jacket but surrendered the notion completely as the scene began to change. 

I began to sense motion in the black sea. Light appeared in the horizon.  Clouds took on color and form.  Moment by moment our gigantic, rising sun brought me, as it does quite simply every day, a beautiful new morning.

I walked down the beach overwhelmed to be alone with all of that beauty.  I thought about life, (I do that a lot.  Comes with the gray hair!))  how light changes the way we see things.  The more light became available the more glorious my setting became.  Absolutely nothing was needed other than that availability of life giving sunshine to transfom my entire world.  

And then there was nothing.  Quiet nothing time.  Almost boring really.  Without a hand to hold or an arm to snuggle me the grandeur of it waned.  I turned back, picked up my pace (and a black shoe, a child's sandal, and a plastic bottle) and went back to my family.