Sunday, August 30, 2009

Ted Kennedy

Yesterday, Saturday, I woke up early. Around five. I did my morning chores. I cleaned the cat box and I cleaned up outside where the dog does his business. I swept my porch of all the leaves that had floated in during the night. I fed the animals. I made my bed. I sat down to rest for a while, I turned on the TV and I never left my chair until what seemed very late. I had happened to turn on CNN and it happened to show the Kennedy funeral. The cortege was leaving the church in Boston and the long, slow journey to Arlington had just begun.

The outpouring of love at every stop was astounding. Tears came to my eyes often, and to the eyes of many of the people standing waiting on street corners along the route. And they were so quiet and so respectful. Thousands of people lined the streets when the trip reached Washington DC. I was so proud to be an American. And I was so ashamed when I heard people referring to Chapaquidik.

In my mind's eye, I can see what happened the night of that tragic event. The office party was in full swing and the unfortunate girl who was lost that night, felt ill and made her way to the nearest car, where she laid herself down on the back seat, and fell asleep. She didn't know who owned the car. Moments later Ted Kennedy decided it was time to leave. He knew he had had too much to drink but decided to test his luck. He never knew that he was not alone in the car. The accident happened and he quickly recovered his senses and opened the door of the car and swam to the nearest friendly house.

Meanwhile the girl in the car became aware of her situation. She tried the back doors of the car and could not force them open. It was dark but she discovered that there was a pocket of air left close to the ceiling above the dash board and again she crawled over the front seat and drew several big breaths of air. Consequently she was found in the front seat of the car next morning.

There is no way ANYONE could have left someone in a sinking car. I do not believe that Ted Kennedy could have done it. And if his name had been Joe Jones he would not have had to suffer from so many reminders of the tragedy. Thank God for the Catholic Church which has the power of redemption. He knew that he was forgiven by God and became so ferocious in his work for people who needed him. Maybe now we can have a better medical situation with fairness for children and people of lesser means.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009


When I picked up my medicine at Wal-Mart yesterday I was shocked to find that my bill was $420 something. I needed re-fills of four out of five I take daily. I am very healthy and no one thinks I am as old as nearly ninety. All this must be a huge fake, and I am actually held together by the Pharmacy world. I tested this a couple of weeks ago. I took a vacation from the pills and I survived. Maybe I weakened my bones a trifle or maybe I filled my blood vessels with gunk. My heart continued its irregular beat without my noticing anything. My fourth pill is for having less than a whole gland below my neck, I can't remember the name of it. I think I will ask my MD if I can do this one week a month from now on.

Since I was at the eastern edge of town, I went to see what Gilbert was doing. I am so glad I did. What was happening in the water outside the house was worth seeing. There was one Canadian Coast Guard ship, working with an American Coast Guard ship and a Helicopter flying between them. We had a Russian Coast Guard ship in town and he had been attending earlier. It was exciting to watch what they were doing and I forgot my own little drama.

Every time I see what improvements are done in the garden my heart sings and I am so glad I moved out of there, so the place can flourish again.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

County Faire

Gilbert called and asked if I wanted to go with him to the County Fair and I immediately said ' Yes I would'. Our bus took some of us inmates the day before and I could not go for I was getting a new refrigerator and was up to my knees in moving all the gory details out of one, defrosting the old one, throwing out what had been there unused since I moved in, and restoring this new wonderful defrosting machine. (now my hair drier will be used for its original purpose only)

Gilbert and I began our adventure about noon. Parked next to the gate with my handicapped sign in his dashboard. I was dying to have a scone. It was our first stop. The warm high scone with aroma that reached all the fences of the grounds was gone. We got a plastic bag with a scone with strawberry jam that was flat and in need of the any aroma at all. It was very forgettable. But the rest was old Fair. We watched the children showing their dogs. We watched young people getting bronze tattoos, we watched politicians shaking hands with anyone who got close. We saw my good friend who is running for city council, Edna Petersen, and I wanted to get close enough for a hug, but she was busy with something at the moment. We wandered through most of the area and it was fun. Gilbert bought some special corn concoction and I said I am tired. We left and within half an hour I had a two hour nap.

Our residence is close enough that I can vaguely hear noises from the Fair if my window is open. It brought many memories from Sweden and the fairs we attended. My very first love affair, when I was four or five was with a very dark hued man who was lying on a bed of nails. He did not speak nor look at us and I think we were in his presence probably less than two minutes and I have never forgotten him. I think his name was Abdulla. At another fair, when I was a teenager, I saw the gorgeous man that drew crowds of young women, brushing his teeth behind the tents. He used Colynose toothpaste and I used that for years after. I forget what his job was. Maybe his good looks was enough of a draw. I am sure he had a name but I never knew it. (But what was I doing going behind the tents?)

I loved the fact that Gilbert asked me to go with him. He also fixed the gas pressure on my BBQ. How great to have a man nearby.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009


When Martha, Nr 3, arrived, she carried two folders of papers that I had written long ago at her request, thinking it might help me remember situations from my past, which would then help me with my blog. I have not had time to read all of it but this attempt at poetry amused me. Hope it will do the same for you. I think I have mentioned the event before. It is written in the form of a letter. It was called Dear Jeffrey, but if I were truthful it would have been called Dear Marcus.


Dear Jeffrey

Watching GONE WITH THE WIND last night made me remember.
Remember the night of August 1, 1943, the night before Sam and I were married.
It was Georgia hot. Sticky and hot.
I sat on the floor by the fireplace, a carton filled with papers by my side.

One by one the papers burned. Letters from Sweden.
Letters from young men in the Armed forces. Some with proposals of marriage.
Newspaper clippings and photographs
And then - all my Clark Gable pictures.

As more papers burned, the hotter the room became. I read and agonized.
Should I, or should I not. Burn this or save that.
Should I marry Sam, or should I not.
I cried silently, feeling so alone.

Did I really want to marry Sam?
I hardly knew him. He was infantry bound for unknown destinations.
If I let him go, I might never see him again.
That was the worst of all possible scenarios.

I never regretted marrying Sam

But why did I think I had to burn my past? Who knows?
After watching Clark Gable, I suddenly regretted that nights absurdity.
Had I not burned those papers,
I could now better share my past with our four children and our grandchildren.

And I would still have all your letters.

Monday, August 17, 2009

daughters, daughters

For the last week I have been surrounded by three of the most wonderful people in the world. You have heard about each one before, usually by a numbers. Today they will have names and vague homeports.

In this picture you will see all of them. Anna is at the west end of the photo. She lives on Bainbridge Island and I see her more often than the other two, who live in the San Francisco area. Jane in Mill Valley and Martha in Santa Cruz. We spent a lot of time with Gilbert, their brother and a fabulous fisherman. We had many meals with him at our old house. Cracked Crab and Salmon. It has been five wonderful days and I am utterly thankful for us, having been all together.

We celebrated two birthdays. Gilbert's belatedly and Jane's a few days early. Each celebration meant overeating and over laughing. The latter a fine sort of exercise which made overeating less noticeable. Gilbert took his three sisters fishing a couple of times and the picture shown here shows all of them starting out. One day they pulled up seven Crab and another day Gilbert caught two salmon. I have three meals in my freezer, two of crab meat and one of crab soup. I am so lucky that he wants to share his catch.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Filled with gratitude.

When I wrote my last blog I had no idea it would bring such healing remarks from my blogging family. Your remarks were so loving and so constructive. Thank you one and all. I will read that book, the first chapter any way, and then give it up. I have to admit, I have been such a snob about grammar. When someone uses the wrong word in speaking, the wrong tense, I smugly feel superior. It serves me right that I should have discovered how ignorant I am.

I spent the day working on a project and suddenly realized that I was starving. I had to get some vitamins for my macular degeneration and since they are cheeper at Walmart I drove to the other end of town and then felt maybe Gilbert might be as hungry as I was and maybe he would come eat an early dinner in a Mexican restaurant. When I got to his house he was deciding where to plant some flowers he had just acquired. He said he was starving and so the two of us had a great dinner at 3.30 p.m. And I have enough food in a little box for my lunch tomorrow.

It is now time to get to my most pressing occupation, watching the Mariners p;ay baseball. The game began at seven and I will just be able to catch the end of the game. Wish them Good Luck with me, please.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Family re-union

My son has moved into his house on the beach and since many parts of his family were there for extended times, I was invited for dinner. These were lovely times and I enjoyed both the food and the company. Gilbert gave me whole crabs to take home with me, and I can say, never have I had so much crab in such a short period of time. Whenever there are crab left over I am urged to take them home and so I have had crab sandwiches and crab omelets and crab tacos. I feel so lucky to have a son who can fish for crab.

Anna and Steve and Kate, the navy pilot, and friend, Gilbert and Chris and I had Gilbert's birthday dinner there. Gilbert made Carnitas and they were delicious. Anna had made Tosca and shaped it into cake shape and served it with one candle. It was a wonderful evening with many "Do you remembers" I loved the banter between the siblings and next week the two sisters from the San Francisco Area will be here with Anna again and I look forward to more of the same fun dinner conversation. The three girls will be staying here at my place.

The reason for the long delay again is that I went to shop at Costco and I spied a book on the sale's table with the title SPEND 20 MINUTES A DAY AND LEARN HOW TO WRITE. I read the first chapter which was about punctuation and capitals. I discovered that I knew nothing about the subjects and it totally threw me for a loop. How can I have nerve enough to write this blog showing my ignorance. Then I thought it is too late to worry about that now. Everybody knows my lack of grammar skills. If I were writing in Swedish I would be showing the same lack. But I am spending twenty minutes a day reading that book and maybe you will gradually observe an improvement in my writing.