Everyday wonders

/

Wonder and amazement are often considered territory of youngsters. As we grow older, we grow less fascinated with the world around us, take for granted the everyday wonders in our paths.

Or so I'm told.

I'm happy to report that even as a grandma, there is much that still amazes me, no matter how many times I experience the things of wonder.

Most recently my sense of awe kicked into high gear while flying to the desert to visit Bubby. I've done it too many times to count, yet it never ceases to amaze me that in less than two hours, I can get from here ...

... to here ...

In the air. Without falling out of the sky. While still having refreshments to nibble, restrooms nearby, someone else at the wheel, someone else fully in charge of navigation.

And while traveling from mountains to desert, I get to sit back and enjoy this:

Yep, it truly amazes me. Each and every time.

I'm thankful it still does.

Today's question:

What everyday occurrences still amaze you?

Guest post: Grandtravel

/

Bubby and Megan arrived last night so I sincerely thank Mary at HappyHealth.net for the following guest post submission which allowed me to enjoy my visitors from the get-go instead of fretting about a Friday post. Plus, it's perfect timing for grandparents considering their summer travel plans. Enjoy! ~ Lisa

Grandtravel provides opportunities for quality time

On HappyHealth.net, we recently did a post about the perks of grandtravel, a new type of traveling that anyone can enjoy during their retirement. What is this mysterious grandtravel, you might ask? Let me explain it to you because it can be really amazing. Quite simply put, this is the practice of taking vacations with your grandchildren. There are certainly many benefits to be had from this type of travel, most namely that you can spoil the grandchildren to your heart's content without their pesky parents stepping in and telling them (or you) "no" about anything.

I've always loved to travel, which is what I've been doing with most of my retirement. I've taken a few trips with my own grandchildren, and let me tell you it definitely creates a time to remember. When kids get older, they tend to have less in common with us boring grandparents, so taking advantage of these opportunities while they are young will give the both of you memories to cherish for a lifetime.

I remember one trip where I took my 6-year-old granddaughter with me to visit Florida. She, of course, loved the beaches and the shopping and all the money that Grandma spent on her. I loved having the company, and especially having the livelihood of a young one around because it made the trip all the more fun and exciting than if I had went alone.

I do love my relaxing getaways, so don't get me wrong. However, I've realized that in my retirement I can have all the relaxation and privacy that I want at home. Why not enjoy my time traveling with the people that I love the most? Plus, by taking my granddaughter without her parents, we had more fun and I was able to spoil her to my wit's end, which is just what I love to do.

If you want to spend more time with the grandkids, take them on vacation. Just remember, it'll be more fun if you leave Mom and Dad at home.

• Contributed by Mary Albert, a blogger for HappyHealth.net, a senior lifestyle and senior health web site that provides advice for the 55+ age group as well as medical alert reviews.

Photo courtesy HappyHealth.net.

Today's question:

What are your summer travel plans ... so far?

Weevils, the heads, and turkey days past

/

It's one week until Thanksgiving Day, and I can't wait.

This will be the first Thanksgiving that one of my daughters will host the affair. Jim, Brianna, Andrea and I are headed to Megan's for the big day, to include the community turkey trot (the girls are trotting; I'm watching), time with Bubby, and Thanksgiving dinner together as a family.

I'm excited to add this "first" to the collection of Thanksgiving memories that have been rumbling 'round my head and heart the last couple days. Things like ...

Thanksgivings early on as a family, when the girls and Jim and I had to eat two turkey dinners in the same day to accommodate holiday visits to both parents -- both my parents, not my in-laws.

Thanksgiving in South Dakota with the Indians. Real Indians from the reservation, who were friends of Jim's sister and brother-in-law, our hosts. The weekend included horseback rides for the girls, silly nephews pitching olives during the meal and the obligatory visit to "The Heads" (Mount Rushmore, for the uninitiated).

Another Thanksgiving in South Dakota, another visit to "The Heads." The time Granny reserved a room at her church to accommodate her many visiting relatives. Just before the meal, she realized she'd forgotten to make potatoes and cheerfully announced she could throw together instant potatoes she had at home. "My husband will NOT be eating instant mashed potatoes for Thanksgiving," snarled one of Jim's sisters. The sister who eventually left her husband -- for her daughter's ex-boyfriend. The husband who eventually died -- from complications of a broken heart.

Once again: Thanksgiving in South Dakota. The year Megan and Andie wrecked their car on the way home from college. So we drove two cars to South Dakota -- Brianna and my mom in one; Jim, Megan, Andie and I in the other -- so that after the festivities (and, of course, a visit to "The Heads") Jim and I could take the girls back to college. We drove from the Black Hills of South Dakota to the east side of Nebraska to drop off the girls, then home to Colorado ... driving straight through. It was our first introduction to Red Bull and Monster energy drinks -- and the last time we'll ever drive that many miles without sleep.

The long-standing tradition of spreading Indian-corn kernels on the Thanksgiving dinner table, with everyone invited to place kernels symbolizing their personal blessings in the special "gratitude" dish at any time during the meal. The tradition I can never explain to guests because I get all verklempt thinking of my many, many blessings. Thankfully one of the girls always steps in and explains it for me -- another blessing that increases my verklempt state. Every time.

The first Thanksgiving I hosted at my house for all the extended family, including my older sister and her husband, whom I wanted desperately to impress. Naturally it would be the year that when I pulled out my "gratitude" dish with Indian-corn kernels saved from the previous year and dumped the kernels onto the beautifully set Thanksgiving table, weevils -- who'd been happily noshing on the kernels all year -- scattered everywhere. Yes, I made an impression.

The first year Jim and I participated in any Black Friday madness. It was the year of the Furby fracas and each of the girls wanted a Furby. We woke up early, went to store after store in the dark -- and came away with three Furbys (Furbies?), one for each of the girls! Thanks in large part to my brother and his wife who were staying with us for the holiday. My brother who no longer speaks to me or Jim ... hasn't for years ... for reasons I don't understand.

The Thanksgiving Jim and I hosted the family mere days after moving into our current house. Boxes still awaited unpacking, furniture, rugs, curtains and more still needed to be purchased and placed. Yet Megan and Preston came -- it was the visit when they announced they were pregnant! -- Andrea invited a visitor from Brazil (I think it was Brazil), and many from my extended family attended. Truly one of my warmest Thanksgiving memories ever, despite the cantankerous and not-yet-working-correctly boiler system of our new place.

Thanksgiving activities with the family: crafting ornaments, doing puzzles, decorating gingerbread houses, painting canvases to adorn the walls of our new home. Megan's creation the year of the canvas? A depiction of how cold our seemingly cavernous house was thanks to that pesky boiler system, especially to one accustomed to desert temperatures.

The tradition of the girls, when they were too young to cook, contributing to the festivities by making dinner mints -- a cream-cheese and powdered sugar concoction flavored with peppermint, pressed into candy molds then popped out for sharing. A tradition that will be passed along to Bubby this year, so he too can contribute to the meal even though he's not yet able to cook.

It's one week until Bubby's little hands squish and squash like Play-doh the traditional dinner mints. Mints that will surely, in years to come, be remembered as the sweetest dinner mints ever.

And I can't wait!

Photo credit: stock.xchng

Today's question:

What are some memories from your Thanksgivings past?

9 things on my mind as I head to the desert

/

I wrote this post earlier this week as I'll be visiting Bubby, Megan and Preston on Thursday. Hooray!

As I prepare for my visit to the desert, here are nine of the many thoughts cluttering up my mind:

1. Are the animals going to be okay being alone all day while I'm gone? I've become their pack leader since only working part-time; what will they do without me? Especially because it'll be too chilly for the dogs to be outside while Jim's at work. Will they miss me?

2. Sheesh! Why in the world are my animals such a huge concern? They're dogs and cats, for heaven's sake. But they're now my only resident babies. Well, they're Jim's babies, too. He can take care of them. Although not as well as I do. (But only because I'm home most of the day.)

3. Do I need to take the larger suitcase since my Gramma Bag has gotten so full?

4. Books ... books? What Halloween book will I be reading to Bubby's preschool class on Friday? Should I go buy a few? Will Megan have some? Will Bubby's teacher? Will it be one requiring me to sing and clap and recite "dem bones" in a funky rapping fashion that may be a preschool teacher's style but isn't mine ... at least not in public?

5. Halloween treats. How can I fit into just a few days all the goodies I want to make with Bubby without putting him into sugar shock? Or Megan into conniption fits over all the sugar? But it's Halloween, and I have festive ideas from Grandma Lizzie and Grandma Nina to try out. Maybe I can sneak in a few while Megan's at work.

6. Which reminds me: I forgot to buy the orange paint for the Halloween treat holder and all the candies for decorating Halloween cookies. Gotta run to Hobby Lobby still ... and Walmart.

7. I hate Walmart ... why do I end up going there at least twice a week?

8. Cuss ... if I'm going to Walmart I might as well pick up a special toy for the dogs. Maybe they'll be less likely to lament my absence if they have something new and interesting to tear up chew on.

9. Uh, my dogs. Are they going to be sad without me?

Today's question:

Do you kennel your animals when you go away for a few days or do you have someone come to your home to take care of them? (Not that I need to do either this time since Jim will be home; just asking.)

Somewhere in time

/

Sunday at 11 a.m., Jim and I settled into the car for a six-hour drive home from South Dakota. We spent the the first half of that drive, nearly three hours, without conversing, listening only to the iPod on the stereo. Mile after mile, we spoke barely a word to one another, both of us lost in thought, considering the weekend, absorbing what we'd learned.

We had left for South Dakota early Saturday morning, arriving that afternoon at the nursing home where Jim's mom resides. She was propped up in her wheelchair watching "Giant" on the tiny television on her nightstand.

We said our hellos, hugged her fragile body, taped together her broken glasses that had the lens inserted upside down, commenced a visit. "Giant" served as the primary focal point, fodder for filling awkward moments as Jim and I attempted normal conversation with his once vibrant, talkative, normal mother.

Our attempts were met with stories from Mom about her outings to various places from her past -- visits she believed had happened just days before, despite not having left the nursing home for about a year. She talked of how grand it was to have attended and be escorted down the aisle in her wheelchair at her brother's wedding, a wedding that took place more than 50 years before -- 50 years before the amputation that took part of a gangrene leg and committed her to a wheelchair earlier this year.

She talked about recently attending church at the church she and I attended together 20 years ago, when the girls were young and Jim worked on Sundays and couldn't go with us.

She talked about phone calls and visits from relatives who, in reality, rarely call, never visit.

She talked of how beautiful Elizabeth Taylor was in "Giant."

We wrapped up with a promise to return in the morning, to spend more time with her before heading back home after the quick trip. Then we went to Jim's sister's house. His oldest sister, his medically trained sister, his sister who visits their mother each and every day, his sister who best knows what to do about Mom.

My first question to her as we unpacked our bags was, "Do we go along with Mom living in the past?" Or do we call her out on such things, try to jog her memory, try to bring her back to reality? The latter was the original tack when Mom first suffered a stroke and mental impairment from violently hitting her head during the associated seizures. It no longer felt like the right tack.

Sue assured us it's not. "She's too far gone and that part of her brain will never return," she said. We learned it's best to play along, to not frustrate and confuse Mom. We learned it's best to let her reminisce about days when she felt happy, content and whole. Days now lost somewhere in time.

That's not all we learned during our too-short weekend trip. From the last boxes of Mom's personal items, the final remnants to divvy up between siblings, we learned of a few of Mom's prized possessions, things that mattered most to her.

We learned of hundreds and hundreds of photos Mom had saved in her cedar chest, many of them photos she rarely shared with the family. Treasured photos of her grandparents, her parents, her siblings, herself. Beautiful decades-old renderings of lives well-lived: births, parties, communions, weddings, new homes, new babies, new starts on life.

We learned teenaged Mom was an avid fan of the glamorous movie stars of the '40s, collecting -- and keeping -- old-time studio shots, postcards, autographs, from Dorothy Lamour, Lana Turner, Spencer Tracy, Humphrey Bogart, Gene Kelly and more.

We learned she still had Jim's baby book, achievement records, locks of hair.

We learned she had carefully tucked away the newspapers containing my very first published articles.

We learned she kept in a manilla folder in her desk every card, every letter, every thank-you note that Brianna, Megan and Andrea ever sent their beloved Granny.

We learned of these and many other things Mom held on to in hopes she'd never forget.

Mostly we learned -- during those hours of silence as Jim and I reclaimed the miles between South Dakota and home -- that we're not yet ready to fully consider the loss of Mom, of Granny. We learned we're not yet ready say the words that open the floodgates.

As we got closer and closer to Denver, we made comments here and there, turned up the radio a little louder. Jim sang. I whistled. Soon we were discussing the girls, the coming week, the never-ending to-do list.

We didn't discuss Mom.

Eventually we will.

Eventually we'll talk. Eventually we'll cry. Eventually we'll mourn.

Somewhere. Sometime.

Today's question:

What is among the treasured photos and papers you're saving?

Pink sky at night

/

I've made it no secret that I don't like the desert, the place Bubby and his parents call home. It's too cuss hot, there are few -- if any -- real trees, and it's filled with creepy crawly yucky poisonous things.

I must admit, though, that it does provide gorgeous sunsets.

It's certainly not enough to persuade me to move there, but I'm happy Bubby and Megan regularly enjoy the colorful evenings.

Today's question:

Mountains, desert, oceanside, plains ... what's your favored setting for 'home'?

Off to Grandma's

/

In a final fling with Southwest Airlines, I have a four-legged trip on the docket: fly to the desert; fly home with Bubby so he can spend a few days with Gramma and PawDad; fly Bubby back to the desert; then fly home alone.

The first leg went off without a hitch, with me arriving in the desert early last Thursday. After a few days of fun in the sun, er, a few days of playing in the house with Bubby because the oppressive heat prevented any living thing from being outside longer than 42 seconds at a time, Bubby and I left for the mountains yesterday morning. It was his first plane ride with Grandma -- and without Mom or Dad.

Because I didn't know how long it would take for this Grandma to get through the airport with a little boy holding one hand and a car seat in the other -- Bubby is now two and gets his own seat on the plane, thus needs to bring along his own car seat for maximum protection in the air -- we arrived with plenty of time to kill.

Which meant there was a lot of waiting. 

And waiting.

And waiting.

And still more waiting.

Then finally ... we got to get on the plane ...

... and head for the mountains.

Nothing but clear skies, happy talk from Bubby, and -- most thankfully -- no poopy diapers mid-flight.

Once we landed, there was nothing but grins all around when we met up with PawDad and his surprise companions welcoming Bubby to the mountains: Auntie Andie ...

... and Aunt B! 

Now the real fun begins!

Today's question:

What's one summer-like thing you've not yet done or accomplished this summer that you are determined to do before fall arrives?

Preparing for Bubby

/

Bubby's guest room awaitsToday I'm in the desert visiting Bubby. On Sunday, he and I will hop on a plane together and head for the mountains. It will be his first plane ride without Mom or Dad, his first visit to Grandma's without Mom or Dad. We're all pretty excited ... yet anxious to find out how our little guy will do being away from his parents for a few days.

Jim -- aka PawDad -- and I made a few adjustments and enhancements to house and home in preparation for his visit:

1. Removed the box spring from the bed in the guest room, to lower the bed to a height that's easy for Bubby to get in and out of.

2. Set up the baby monitor in the guest room so we could hear any sounds in our bedroom ... which is only two doors away but ya never know.

3. Purchased new Matchbox cars and a nifty rug printed to look like a happy little neighborhood with wending roads just the right size for Matchbox cars.

4. Scrubbed and shined -- to the degree you can shine plastic -- some of the old toys left in our shed by the previous owner. Including a fantastic Fisher Price play kitchen set (sink/stove/fridge combo!) last used 15 or so years ago, but perfect for Bubby ... who would have loved such a thing for his birthday but Dad nixed that idea and he got a cute little BBQ grill instead. Well, Dad, Bubby will be playing with a kitchen set at Grandma's because we certainly can't let a good kitchen set go to waste.

5. Stocked up on 100% fruit-juice fruit snacks, goldfish crackers and Vitamin D milk (instead of our typical 1%). Stocked up on diapers and baby wipes, too -- things I've not bought in more than 20 years.

6. Added fresh batteries to two baby glow worms and a Teletubby (a Teletubby which no one in the family knows how it came to be part of our toy stash).

7. Set the DVR to record a few episodes of Yo Gabba Gabba and Chuggington.

8. Purchased the super-size bag of popcorn kernals for popping in the popcorn machine -- a specific request from Bubby. He surprisingly remembers our popcorn machine and its movie-theater-popcorn goodness from his visit in March.

9. Cleared the calendar of anything and everything except hanging out with our favorite little dude.

Our house and hearts are ready. Wish us luck!

Today's question:

When you have guests scheduled to visit, what is the first item on your preparation to-do list?

This post was linked to Grandparent's Say It Saturday.