Creating

So many friends and relatives.

We have been entertaining. Karin from Montana came to spend the night with us. She left an hour ago to drive to Monterey, where she and her friend Paul are spending Spring Break. Paul was not about to leave the friends from his Shark counting days but Karin enjoyed herself with her Aunt Jan Shaw. And Donna was here. She is the ex-wife of Michael Shaw, Sam's half brother. And a couple of others more or less related ones. We sat at the table for hours with the question: Do you remember.

This little house is big enough to seat eight people for lunch. So much fun. Tomorrow Janice is coming with her daughter Kathy and we hope they will bring pictures of Kathy's grand daughter. Janice is coming from Carmel and Kathy will probably drive from Los Gatos to pick her up. I have not seen either of them for many years. Looking forward to another 'do you remember'. Kathy and Martha met when they were younger than four years old.

I feel totally settled in. Bob and I have been to Osh every day since we came. Osh is a hardware store and a garden store and it seemed every morning we discovered that there was one or two things that we needed to be absolutely happy. There is one more thing we have to get. I need the motor to my coffee grinder. I saw one at Bed Breakfast and Beyond. ( I know that is wrong but it got me a good laugh.)

So tomorrow another adventure.

You may wonder

why I take several days between blogs. It is difficult to become settled in a new place. But now I am settled. All I need is a towel that is the right size for winding around my head after a shampoo. Bob and I went to Bed Bath and Beyond. They have millions of towels in hundreds of colors, But not a one in the size I want. So finally Martha found a Swedish terry cloth towel just twice as long as what I needed. (it had belonged to my sister. How she got it will be told in another tale) I cut it in half and hemmed the two thin holey pieces and NOW I am all set.

I have my shed all organized so I can sew on the machine, I can work on my computer, and I can paint flowers on small cards which I will send to friends to announce that I have moved.

My New Home

I have arrived

Suddenly Martha and her husband Bob told me they had bought a house next door to their house and that they called it Mom's House.

They wanted me to move next door to them in Santa Cruz, California. And then the question was, would I move.

My answer was, of course I would move. If they wanted me so close, what could be better.

Then there was the question.... When?

The first date discussed was the end of March.

Then Martha discovered she had a speaking date around that time.

After much haggling back and forth the moving occurred February 24. Luckily I had contacted Movers and found out it would take at least nine days before they could assure us of being able

to deliver the furniture after leaving Port Angeles. So Bob contacted a mover in Santa Cruz who assured us he would drive north, pick up my belongings and deliver them three days later.

Martha and I drove my car down in two and a half days. By the time we arrived the furniture had been deposited in more or less their correct places. There were, what seemed like one hundred and five boxes, and two days later they were all on the way to the dump. Everything is unpacked, flowers have been planted in my old pots. Today I bought a bouganvilla and a huge pot to plant it in. And today, after Martha helped me reprogram my computer, I can send a Blog again. (I had to patiently wait for Martha to send the manuscript of her third book to her editor)

And I think I can promise to be more punctual in my blogging.

I am so happy to be here.

Me and The New York times

In 1938 when I arrived in America I was intrigued by the newspapers that were so inexpensive. At home in Sweden we subscribed to two papers, a morning one and an afternoon one. They were not expensive, but fewer pages. The first responsible task given to me before I was five years old was to go into the village to buy the evening post. A visitor who did not know that we subscribed to the paper was impatient and could not wait until it was delivered. Helsingborgs Posten was the name of this paper and according to my mother it was the conservative paper and this visitor probably had to check the stock market. He gave me a dime, or a tenoring. It was so small that I could not feel it in my tightly fisted hand and when I got halfway to the shop I had to open my fist to see if it was really there. My hand had become damp because of my responsibility, and when I spread my fingers the coin flew out of my hand. Had I dropped it I could have found it, but it flew out and since I was standing on a cobble stone road with grass growing between the stones, where could it be? I was on my hands and knees crying while looking for it. What could I tell everyone when I got home?

Around the corner came a well dressed man, obviously a summer resident. When he saw me he asked 'What's the matter?' I told him about my dime. No more than an instant later he found the coin. I never saw that man again, but if I had, I would have asked him if he found the dime in his pocket.

What has this memory to do with The New York Times. As a 'green horn' when I first saw an American paper I had found an inexpensive way to become a citizen five years later. Read the paper every day and become more American than an American. My job as a kitchen maid meant that I had to help the cook prepare food before each meal, clean up after each meal, and keep the kitchen clean. I had many hours a day and all night for myself and after asking the butler not to throw out the paper, I was all set. The first pay-day I bought a pocket version of a Dictionary. In the beginning it was slow going and there were slang words that I could not find.

I learned to ignore them but often missed the point of that line. And Jokes were impossible. In one newspaper I read a comic strip called: Them days is gone forever. Wow. I knew better grammar than that.

The New York Times impressed me in so many ways. The full page ads. The drawings illustrating the merchandize for sale. The book section. I had to be careful. I read a review of a book called CLIMATE AND CIVILIZATION written by a professor in Iceland. His name was Whiljalmar Steffanson. The book sounded so interesting I had to buy it. I think it cost $20 or more. I would read the reviews but bought very few of the books. Much later I learned about Library Cards.

Most of all the paper taught me about the political life in America. President Roosevelt intrigued me and I admired him almost as much as I admired Eleonore Roosevelt. Little did I know that I would meet and work with FDR in Warm Springs Georgia years later. But more about the New York Times next time.

Again,a new year

2012. I had the happiest Holiday season that I can remember. In 92 years I could conceivably have forgotten a happier one. From the time I was a child? No, there was not one. ( I never got the grocery store I wished for) From my teens? No, things were miserable at home. From my early years in America? No. I was homesick in a strange way. From the first and only year Sam and I had before he had to go overseas? We spent it alone in a tiny rented house with a cow who stationed herself by our kitchen window. We were happy we were together, but not Christmas happy.

Then Sam went overseas and those years were worry some. I remember one year we, Sam's family and I, spent Christmas with an aunt of Sam's and her large family. Auntie Aggie at the piano playing the old familiar Christmas songs. I sat with her on the piano bench holding a three year old little boy on my lap and there were happy feelings stirring in my breast but not strong enough to forget that Sam was in danger in Europe. So I think 2011 was the happiest.

What made the Season so memorable? It began at Thanksgiving time. Gilbert who spent that season in Colorado with Chris and Kate and Tory had given Anna, our first daughter, permission to use his house on the beach for our celebration. And then Jane, our youngest daughter, and her family decided to fly up from San Francisco. The party began early and soon the fabulous eating began. Jane is a good cook, her husband Tom is also and I think I have already told of Anna's and Steve's talents in that direction. And I added my old fashioned talents. When I got tired i went home to my place and they walked the dog, played games and found treasures the beach. It was very lonesome when they all left.

The period between Thanksgiving and Christmas was welcome. A little dieting, a little resting and a lot of knitting. I made scarves for all the females in the family. And then the baking began. Rye bread for the 'grav lax' (salmon) and cardamon coffee cake for breakfasts. Swedish Meatballs, of course. And then the family from Colorado arrived. Tory who had been stationed in Alaska (Coast Guard) came first. Then Gilbert, who immediately went fishing for Steelheads

in Morse Creek. (first legal date to catch them) He caught a big one. Then he went crabbing in the mornings and salmon fishing, They had so much fish, and I was invited to join them for most of the meals. Chris was so generous, I almost always left with a care package.

On Christmas Day Anna and Steve arrived for Christmas Breakfast. Chris's famous Christmas Eggs and coffeecake that Tory had baked for the occasion. (She is very generous with the butter and sugar and nuts and raisins. I hate to say it, hers is soo much better than mine) And then again, there were four of the best cooks making the best food. I felt a little guilty, but I told myself I had contributed to the hungry, both the Food Bank and The Salvation Army.

Yesterday the last departure before Gilbert goes back to spend the winter in Colorado.

PS I got the grocery store when I was in my late twenties. I made it with the old fashioned match boxes for Swedish matches. I put a little brad for the handle to pull out the drawer. I filled the drawers with sugar, salt, flour, and chocolate bits and I had eggs from Easter, small small eggs. The counter was a piece of thick glass. I had sundries and homemade brooms etc. Nobody came to buy anything in my store.

Thank you for information about KGO

The firing of all the talk show people on KGO must have been instigated by the far right.

The conversation was almost always very fair and the only one-sided commentator was

Dr. Wattenberg (sp) who, I heard had been rehired. The far right must be scared that Obama will win a second term. I wish I could remember who all the companies were who advertised. I would shun them all. Except the radio out fit from Los Angeles. Luckily I remember their phone number so I can call them and tell them to stop advertise there.

One day when I was young and eager to get established as a portrait painter I called Don Sherwood, the five to nine am host on KSFO, if I could come in from Contra Costa County, to paint him while he was anchored by his mike. He said yes, maybe by the urging of Herb Cain. I would drive across the Bay Bridge, scared breathless. The four young children were well taken care of by their father, there we re not too many cars on the road that early. So what made me so scared? Where would I park? How would I get along with Don Sherwood. If you want to find out what happened to Don's portrait, google it, and an old, old blog should turn up and tell you the story.

On my advent calendar, it was Anna's turn with her red wrapping paper. I was mystified for at least five minutes. What could be the meaning of those two items. They were intended to be used as stoppers for a bottle who had lost his cork. I immediately went to my larder and corked my Olive Oil bottle. Thank you Anna. ( I bet she had seen my corkless bottle last time she made salad dressing.)

What fun.

I woke up at one o'clock, was still awake at three thirty, decided to get up to knit on my Christmas presents. I was strong enough to get past the Advent Calendar. Watched an old, old who-done-it and fell asleep until six. It was Jane's turn to have a present hanging on the sixth hook. Felt like a small sort of can. It was a small can of Trader Joe's Anchovy Filets. What a great gift. Can't wait till five tonight to have a couple of crackers with a slice of hard boiled egg and a taste of that can with my drink. Thank you Jane.

I have such sad news. My favorite radio station, KGO, has totally changed their night time programming. One reason for my insomnia. What could have happened that they fired all the oldtime people. I have listened to Ray Talgiaphero since our Diablo days. And I have admired John Rothman since he was a fill in until he became a nightly person from ten until one or two. And the wonderful woman with triplets. How will I ever sleep again with all my night time friends gone. If any reader of this blog knows what happened, please let me know. I can't tell you how devastated this has made me. From, going to bed with a glad cry, I have become, Oh, must I.

mornings are more fun now

Today is my third day of opening advent presents. December first had a white paper wrapped one and I knew that was one from Martha. There were three tiny cookie cutters and if I make pepper cake cookies this year I will use them. My recipe is very complicated. You make the dough and let it rest overnight and then role it into a paper thin thing and when this dough sticks to the surface of your baking board you add more flour and then try again. When you finally succeed, there is so much flour in your cookies that they have become a dull gray-brown tough item. Steve, my son-in-law is the only one who can make them into the delicate items they are supposed to be. If he is planning to make them this year, I may send him my new cutters and ask him to make me a dozen cookies.

Yesterday I opened my second present. There were two small packets of chocolate-almond spread which I tried immediately on my breakfast English muffin. Yum! It was in a white package which I assumed was from Jane. I was wrong. It was Anna's wrapping paper. I told the girls that they are richer than I was when making mine so long ago. I would have used the three cutters for three different days and the spread for two different days.

Today, the third day, I opened a red and white striped paper one. It was so heavy that the board is now listing to starboard. (I will put a tack under the right hand corner to keep it from listing even more in the future) But not til I'm sure my neighbor is awake. You may wonder what was so heavy in Jane's package. Money. a lot of money. Beautiful shiny coins. Filled with chocolate.

When I go to our local variety store there is always some of these coins near the check-out counter. But the little bag they are sold in is much smaller than this one and the money is not as shiny and new. I will buy one next time I go there. Just to compare them. Jane's contained

$8.07. Thank you Jane.

Advent calendar

When my four children were little, I made advent calendars for all of them. First I made one board to hang on the wall in a central place. Then I attached 24 ring to which I could tie four presents each day to be opened until the 24th. Each child had a present wrapped in his own color wrapping paper. We were fairly poor at that time, so the presents were insignificant. Maybe one piece of gum or a small pencil or a candy bar. A few days before dec 24th there would be a small box of thank you notes for the four of them to use after the holidays. Sometimes there would be a small treasure fit for the individual receiver. It was fun to do each year, but the wrapping was a forever job. Four times 24 I think makes 96 and it took forever to wrap that many little packages. But when you heard one of them come shouting down the hall, saying 'Look Anna, I got a great little book about birds. Then it all seemed worth it.

I told someone this autumn about the advent calendars an that someone I think was Shreve; She told my four children about the fact that I had told her I had never received an advent calendar. And so this year, on Thanksgiving Day an Advent calendar was delivered to my place. I love it. The base had been used for Anna's two children. On the twenty four rings that have been sewn onto the brown felt covering the board hang a present for each day. The packages are wrapped in three different kind of papers, I know that the one for dec 1 is from Martha. I am eager to wake up on Thursday so I can open it to see what may be hidden under the the white tissue paper.From where I sit it looks as though there are two to open on Dec 2.

The board it self is a wonderful Christmas decoration. There are two larger Santas. A mother Santa with a white apron, making her look as though she was interrupted while baking cookies.

At the end of the line is Papa Santa, and between them are two cute little Santas. signifying Shreve and Karin. What a lot of work Anna had to do to make this for me. I will be forever happy about my first Advent Calendar.

Food

I love it when Shreve talks about food. I have her cook book and I can sit and read it like a novel. It always ends up with my going into the kitchen and since I am not Gluten sensitive I will often cheat and add something she is not allowed to have.

Tonight I am having the noodles with the truffle oil. I have two sections of Tony Roma's spare ribs in the refrigerator, one of which I will heat up on my BBQ. (A gift from one of my favorite sons-in-law) and my dinner will consist of spare ribs, noodles with a drop of truffle oil, a green vegetable also left over from yesterday, with a few drops of Ranch dressing. For dessert I will have a whole Kiwi fruit which I cut in half and eat out of the peel, the way you eat a grapefruit, only the spoon is much smaller. It is noon now and how do I wait.

Since we are talking about food, I will tell you what I had for breakfast, Coffee, one pear and one banana. For lunch I will have two thin slices of Safeway's Artisian black olive bread with a slice of tomato and a slice of cheese. If a dietary expert reads this, what am I missing. and since I have had two worry some instances of what could be gout, is there something wrong with today's menu? I will google Gout and see what that's all about.

Meanwhile, Bon Apetit.

Another NY Times day

This was a thinner version of my three day experience with the paper. I think I signed up for a month of weekends, but I am discontinuing the paper on Monday. The font is too small, and I will attempt to get the paper on my iPad where I can control that. But it is not the same as smelling the paper while reading. But we can't have every thing. I feel very fortunate to have what I have.

Speaking of being fortunate, my luck is in my family. All four children grew up to be sterling citizens. All seven grandchildren ditto. What more could one ask for. And now I have Martha's success to give thanks for. She is so busy with her new book, The Plot Whisperer, and with all the work she has with Plot consultations.

Our home outfit, Park View Villas, in conjunction with Port Angeles Senior Center are putting on a Gala affair tonight, called The Harvest Benefit Dinner. Our bus leaves at 3pm and we may be back in time for the third World Series game.

A wonderful day

I woke up at 5 am and opened the door for my cat to go out. There was the New York Times by my door. I made a cup of coffee and sat down with the paper. It was the Friday, Saturday and Sunday papers I had ordered. Lots of news of Qaddafi's brutal end and a thick section about money but the rest of it I read from cover to cover. Read a critique of a book on van Gogh. Toyed with the idea of buying it but the $4o.oo and the state of my book shelves deterred me.

At 9.30 I met Gilbert and Chris for breakfast downtown. Returned home and have spent the rest of the day reading our local paper (10 minutes) and the rest of the NY paper. I have had a fabulous day. Now I have to tell NY to discontinue delivering my paper for the font is too small. I will read the two papers that are coming to me, hoping I won't speed up my macular condition.

Just looking at the ads gave me a thrill and I remember how much I enjoyed the paper when I lived in New York in 1938. I did not have the money to buy the paper but by Monday when the rest of the people in the house had finished with it, it came to me, the lowest person on the totem pole. Every cent I earned, ( I think I was payed $60 or 70 and room and board,) had to be set aside for my future education. I have had a great day.

I will try again

Yesterday another failure with my blogging. I left half of a blog when I had to rush out for an appointment.(Actually my rushing would be better described as slow mo) When I came home and opened up again there was a big red and yellow stripe saying we cannot continue.

So now I may stop writing for fear that the computer will show the red and yellow stripe again.

I am so happy to see that there are people who still remember me. Thanks for the comments.

Two things I will report for everyone who is reading this. Martha, my second daughter who now lives in Santa Cruz with her husband Bobby, had a new book published and she had an event at a book store in Santa Cruz, where she was met with a full house and the books were sold out. There will be other events of this sort but when the first one is so successful, I think you have to thank the spirits out there. I have read the book and it is very inspiring and I felt I could write a best seller, but more than that I felt the last pages of the book revealed what a lovely person Martha Alderson is.

I have read a book by another 'relative'. Donna Rankin Love wrote WALKING FOR OUR LIVES. Donna is not a real relative, but about twenty years ago she was my sister-in-law. Toward the end of the 1970-ties she and a few another hundreds of people walked from California to Washington DC on a 'get rid of nuclear arms' plan. The book is riveting and full of adventures. But most of all, when the world was against them they tried harder and they succeeded. Martha's book THE PLOT WHISPERER, Secrets of Story Structure Any Writer Can Master. Her book will be in any book store and on Amazon. Donna's book on Amazon.

difficlty

When you are as old as I am, and people are putting roadblocks in your way, it is so easy to say 'OK, if google is going to be difficult, I give up.' I have sat down so many times with a smashing idea for a blog, and after half an hour of arguing with google, the idea would pale off and some other job would call and so all inspiration would be gone. Today when I have absolutely no idea of what to say, it worked the first time I tried. I feel better and as soon something enters my head , I will be in touch.

When Shreve wrote that there would be fewer messages from her for a while, someone commented, Maybe your grandmother could fill in for a while. Thank you for writing that. It filled me with a lot positive feelings. But I could never fill in for Shreve

Fire

Around 1930, there was a building fire North of Viken. It was a big two story house which looked as though it was made of cement. Our house on the beach, directly below the church, was close enough that we could hear all the emergency vehicles hurrying to save the burning house. It was owned by a wealthy seafarer. His wife and grown daughter were told to go to a neighbor's house. The fire was soon taken care of and the only sign of it the next morning were black streaks sweeping out the window of the daughter's upstairs bedroom.

Nothing like this had ever happened before, during my ten or twelve years of living there. It affected my life seriously. We four children were constantly warned of the danger of fire. At Christmas time we had real candles in our tree. During the school Christmas party we danced around a giant tree festooned with hundreds of real, lit, candles. When the last Christmas party (the 6th of January) was held in our house all our friends were invited and we got to share the candies and cookies that had decorated the tree during the holidays. Then we grabbed the tree and danced through all the rooms, and finally opened the front door and threw the tree out in the snow. And with this we had never heard about a fire around Christmas time. Our trees were of course greener and less flammable.

You may ask, why did the fire in the big house affect you so seriously. I don't know enough about Psychology but for the rest of my life I walked around with so much guilt. I had never been in the house with the fire but never looked at the streaks of black around that window. Even after WWII when Sam and I walked around Viken I never looked in that direction. In 1960 when I showed my children where I had grown up, I never showed them the house . I think my mother had imprinted in my brain that I was So Bad. The fire must have been my fault.

M emory

When I read this mornings paper, all abut Labor Day observances, here and in nearby towns, I wondered if we had something similar in Sweden. I am sure there was a day devoted to the honor of labor, but I do not remember what date it was. So refusing to get going with the daily chores, I tried to remember when I was first introduced to reading a newspaper. There were two newspapers daily in our house. The evening paper had a serial published at the very end of the paper. I remember my mother reading those to us at dinner, if they were suitable for children. Some times we tried to get a sneak view, if they were fun ones. But then the time I was excited about learning more was in 1932. Word had come over the radio that Ivar Kreuger had committed suicide in Paris. We all knew something about him. He was called the Match king. He was handsome. We did not know that he was also a crook.

A lot of the news was about his financial doings which was not understandable for me. I was 12 years old at the time. I think the Swedish papers were trying to white wash the story about him. I think people looked on him as another Alfred Nobel. It is always hard when a hero is discovered to have dirty feet. I looked up Kreuger's name on Google and my gosh, there are acres of stories about him. So now it is high noon and I have managed to spend the whole morning on the Match King. I heard somewhere long ago that if it had not been for Ivar Kreuger there might not have been such a serious crash in the late 1920ies.

Twin Towers

Much, much earlier you may remember that I wrote about Jack How. He was married to Sam's cousin Jane. He was a strange person. During the few years I knew him, he hit bottom and he soared to soaring heights. At first when I came to California, he was in the Navy serving at Oakland Knoll Hospital or maybe some other base near by, for he often he came home to spend the night. He was very amusing and could hold an audience breathless for hours. Suddenly he inherited $40.000. And suddenly he was driving a secondhand blue convertible and drinking nothing but French champagne. He claimed he was allergic to whiskey and gin drinks. It did not last long for Jane decided they had to pay bills, and just as suddenly as the money arrived, just as suddenly the money was gone. And so was his allergy.

When the war was over he found a job in a chemical company. I forget the name, but I think a plant was located near the Sacramento river somewhere in Contra Costa County. I imagine he was in sales for he was a spellbinder. In a few years he was working for that same company, but in their Wall Street office in New York City.

Many years later Sam and I had reason to go to New York. While there we called Jack and he said: "Lets have lunch" I said: "Where?" "How about the Twin Towers. We met on the ground floor and when Jack came he took us up to the fanciest restaurant for the most elegant lunch I still remember in detail.

Being in that building was an adventure, enjoying the fabulous view I will never forget. Jack died a few years later and I am happy he did not have to die in the inferno that occurred ten years ago.

Hurricane

We are all tired of hearing the word HURRICANE, I know. And the people living with IRENE are much more tired of her than we are. But know that we are hoping and praying for you and that your losses will be minor.

I began thinking of this as a blog when I heard one news caster saying that New York had never before suffered any loss of life from a Hurricane. Then another such person came on and discussed the 1954 where the losses were minimal. Still nothing said about the huge one that hit Long Island in 1938. This is Sunday afternoon and finally 1938 was mentioned and the huge losses in lives and property on Long Island.

A passenger Liner named KUNGSHOLM was approaching New York from Sweden. Suddenly we met enormous waves and most of the passengers hurried to their staterooms to be sick. That night in the dining room things were difficult. Food kept sliding from the plates and some things ended up on the floor. I was booked for a berth on a very low level of the ship and if the year had been a little earlier it would have been called STEERAGE. My room was tiny and I had two or three room mates. After dark I went to my room, opened the door, and closed it again for the smell was atrocious. I went farther up on the ship than we bottom dwellers were supposed to go. No one cared so I found a comfortable corner to sit and contemplate the people who were still up and around. It was entertaining but I went to sleep and no one bothered me. Around five in the morning I woke up and began climbing stairs. I needed fresh air and on a very upper deck I found a quiet place to sit and watch the waves that were breaking over the super structure of the ship.

A very tall woman approached me. She stood in front of me and when she began speaking to me she put on foot on the seat next to me. She was amazingly steady. She spoke English with a very pronounced Swedish accent. Most of the short interlude was where are you from, where are you going, what do you ,plan to do in America etc. It was Greta Garbo. She had been drenched by waves in her walk, the hair that had crept out from under her scarf tied around her head was a mess, but she was gorgeous none the less. Nothing could ever change her large eyes or her classic profile. When she left I went down to my cabin to get changed into something dry before my bunk mates woke up needing the bathroom. As far as I know they never made it to the dining room. Nobody told us that we had met the hurricane that had killed so many people and destroyed so much of Long Island.