It has been decided

Thank you all for voting on my blog. The result of the vote was stunning. Not a single NO vote. And so many YES votes. A humbling experience. I have chosen my new carpet. I have the blessings of the director of our home office. Now I have to set a date with the carpet people.

I am teaching a class on Oct 16. I am so nervous about being able to do it. Two people are coming from Southern California, one from Bainbridge Island and the rest from Port Angeles and Sequim.  The subject of the class is FAKE IT IN FABRIC. I have to tell you how the name came about. I may have told you sometime in the past. A good friend was visiting in Washington D.C. She and her husband went to an art show and saw among other things a painting by Matisse called ' Lady with flowers. She bought a postcard depicting that Matisse. When I received it I remember what a horrible feeling filled me. 'No matter what happens between now and my final days, I will never be able to own a painting like that'. It was something like greed and avarice that filled me. I remember I was in the middle af a daily chore when my husband handed me the card. And I was ashamed of the way I felt. And then I told myself 'I'LL MAKE ONE'.

I went into my sewing room, looked for suitable fabrics and began my new art form. Trial and error and beginning over and over again I finally finished the work. And for some reason I was as happy as if I really had a Matisse in my possession. It proved that it was not the hundred or so millions I was craving, it was the beautiful scene of lovely colors and perfect composition that appealed to me. I have made many others but none has filled me with happiness the way that first one did.

A short, short visit

Anna and her friend Dana came from Bainbridge Island yesterday morning. We met at a breakfast place, finished early, and they went to the house on the beach to pick up a piece of furniture that Dana had bought during my garage sale. I drove as fast as was legal for an appointment with my dermatologist. I walked in and was seen at ten sharp and at ten-o-five was told not to worry, I did not have the bad kind of cancer on my arm. (We have been told so many times that when a spot on the skin changes and gets an irregular edge, go to the doctor.) Good news.

I now have another question that is worrying me. In a totally different area. Where I live, a wonderful beautiful place, management made a huge mistake when they readied my cottage for a new inhabitant. They ordered new carpeting throughout the place. The cheapest stuff on the market. It is awful. Every footprint shows and it is always soiled looking. My friend down the lane and I have compared notes, and she has now replaced everything in her cottage. When I saw the change, I was astounded. The comfort of the better kind of carpeting is huge.

But there is a distinct difference between us. She is in her early or middle seventies and could now be living there for twenty more years. I am ninety, or nearly ninety one, and I may have a much much shorter time. Should I spend that much money on a new carpet? There ore lots of people with nothing but mud under foot. I will ask my financial advisor if he thinks I can afford it, but he cannot advice me on my sense of right or wrong. I could ask my four children to vote on what I should do. 

Writing this blog has changed my mind. I will let you, my readers vote on yes or no. I know I can take it out of my saved up living expenses. Please all of you comment on this problem.

Some ups and some downs

My life is getting too hectic. I rejoined a Book Club I used to belong to many years ago. The reason I left the club was that so often I had not read the book by the time we met to discuss it. The reason was that my mother had told me, often, that 'we don't read in the daytime'. When I went to bed I always began reading whatever was current, and as soon as I opened the book, I fell asleep. Now I can read as much as I want in the daytime. 

Today was the first meeting of the season for the book club. After this there will be nine more meetings and then the summer is free. Today was spent picking the books we will read these nine months. Several I have already read and the rest of the list is fun to look forward to. I will tell all of you what the books are later.

The reason I mentioned the word hectic is that I am going to teach a class titled FAKE IT IN FABRICS. I wake up in the middle of the night asking myself 'how will I handle that problem'. And then I lie there trying to solve it all. Luckily the class will be small. Two people will arrive from California, Two from Bainbridge Island, and the rest of the group live here in the environs. The date is October 16 and I can't afford to loose all that sleep. I will try to copy Scarlet O'Hara and say to myself, 'I will worry about that tomorrow. 

First day of school

I remember the very first day of school, when I was seven years old. The year was 1927. I was surprised the other day, when I read a story comparing Education in various countries, when I saw that beginning School is still when you are seven in Sweden.

My first day was wonderful. First the smell in the class room. I have often wondered what it was that smelled so promising. Was it coming from the pencil sharpeners, or was from the black surface on the floors.

 Somewhere in a drawer I have a picture of our first class. Most of us looked scared but my face showed no fear. Froken Andersson, our teacher, looked happy to be there. She was old. Now that I am ninety, it seems wrong to say she was old. I know she was under 65 for that was when people were pensioned. And I know she taught many years after my one year stint in her class. So maybe she was in her fifties. 

We had a small class. I remember a girl whose name was Gerd. Her father was something like a coast guard. She was next to the youngest in her family of many children. It was before the birth of Kleenex and the poor girl had a nose that needed one, but she had learned how to keep whatever was happening to herself. She had to keep her mouth open so she could breathe. I think it held her back. There was one of the Petterson girls. Stina, Brita and Greta. I don't remember which one was in my class for all three of them became friends through the years. Their father was a carpenter. Their mother must have been a seamstress for they all had cute clothes. The school was located on the main street of Viken. Our entrance was from the back of the building, but the teachers living quarters had an entry from the main street. Next door to the south was a clock maker's store. His name was Holm and he was a very dapper gentleman. Next door to the clockmaker was the 'smidga' The horses went there to get re-shoed. 

I knew how to read before the first day of school. I think I must credit my sister Birgit with that.

Another bus drive

Today is tuesday. On our Calendar it says that 'Errands' will leave at 9.30 am. I left my cottage at 9 and walked, with my cane, up to my garage to get my shopping cart. Walked around to where we can get let out of the bus on our way home, parked my cart by a bush, and walked down to the place where the bus parks when picking us up. That little operation took exactly half an hour. I am practicing now so I will know how to behave when and if I loose my driver license. The whole event was amazing. And I now know why Park View Villas was voted the best retirement place in Clallam County.

The bus was nearly full. One person in a motorized Wheel Chair got on on the ramp on the back of the bus. Three of four took their walkers along on the bus, four or five used their canes and the rest of them walked on by their own balance and power. One woman who is either 94 or 95 walks as though she is about sixty. I checked her cart when our alotted hour  was nearly up and she had two candy bars in her cart. 

Before we got to Safeway the bus had dropped a couple off, to cash checks in various banks. And one man was dropped off at a dentist's office. One man was left in a Foot Clinic and a couple of women were left at other doctor's offices. Our driver, whom you have met before, is uncomplaining . It was raining and he opened the doors at these offices for everyone who left the bus. When we came to Safeway he handed each of us the carts that were going to hold us up while we were in the store.

The woman with the two candy bars remembered that she had promised a fellow inmate that she would apply a warm damp compound to an aching area of his, and when Keith heard her woe he gave her an early trip back to the home, and then turned around and collected the rest of his flock.

A small world

Today I was invited to play for someone in a Bridge Tournament. I think there were four or maybe five tables. The affair was held here at Park View Villas, my home address, and before we played, we had lunch in our dining room. It was interesting, for I do not eat there normally and my thinking lately has been, Why don't I eat there? I don't know how much it would cost to have two meals a day there, but I think maybe it would be less than I spend in the grocery store. After todays lunch I am glad I still have my independence. We had soup and a sandwich and grapes and for dessert a small container of ice cream. When I see my MD and he compels me to go on a diet, I may feel it would be a good way to lose weight to eat in the dining room.

Something very interesting happened at the table. The conversation around our area of the table turned to 'Have you read'? It was fun hearing what people were absorbed in, and I took a few notes. Suddenly I heard the woman across from me say, Have you read a book called The Daily Coyote? No one responded. So she went into great detail and took a lot of time describing the Vespa Story and the fabulous photographs. When she finished, I said, 'Who was the writer? She searched around in her head, and out came Sh, Shr Shreve Stockton. And then a light rose on her face, and she said 'Is that a relative of yours'. I brushed my nails on my vest, and said.... She is my Grand daughter.

Then I turned my attention to the person sitting next to me. She was talking about a book titled something about a house on a beach. The beach was located in Liberia. I asked, if the author mentioned, had dealt with how her parents or grandparents had settled in Liberia. She said Yes, and that she had gone into great detail about how freed slaves had been allowed to leave USA to go there. I said Commodore Robert Stockton had been instrumental in getting the people who wanted to emigrate from USA to Liberia the passage they needed for the trip. And then I told how Martha Alderson has written a book about that historical chapter. And who is Martha Alderson? Her middle name is Stockton and she is one of my favorite three daughters.

A couple of firsts

Yesterday I joined a TAI CHI class given here at our place. At 8.30 AM. I walked down the hill with my walker. It was sunny even then, so I had to wear my straw hat. (that hat always makes me feel jaunty) People think it is an affectation but my dermatologist insists. Tai Chi was a blast. I did everything wrong. The teacher asked before we began if I am dyslexic and I said I was when I was young and she looked 'Oh, not another one' But all my fellow searchers for balance told me not to give up too soon. For forty five minutes we strove for perfection. I was facing the teacher and when she said 'right arm' I moved my left arm. Next time I will try to sit next to her, so I can copy her better.

At ten I had an appointment to have my nails done. I walked back up the hill when the class was over, got my shopping cart where I had Jane's birthday present ready to mail, maneuvered up the seven steps to the level where my garage is, and realized that there was very little time to get half way to Sequim. So I broke a few speeding laws and made it with only a few minutes over due. And now my second first. At 12.05 I arrived at the Port Angeles post office. There was one human being besides me. The clerk. Never before have I encountered that kind of scene. By the time the clerk was through with me,  there were six people waiting to be served.

In the afternoon I had to call down to the office and ask if we had a nursing service available. There was so I said I would be down directly. Got my walker again and began walking down the hill. Our wonderful office director chased me down thinking I was in need of assistance. I just had an angry looking injury on the back of my arm. Before moving from the house on the beach I had thrown out a bowl full of small rocks that grand children had given me through the years. There were heart shaped ones and round ones and square ones. I needed those rocks for a project Jane had started us on earlier. I drove over, and there by the garage and near the Lilac bushes we had planted in 1983 was the whole bunch of my rocks. So I stole them. Reaching for the best one, way inside the lilac bush, a branch hurt my arm. I needed that very one and pushed harder. I checked for blood, but there was none. When I got home I checked again but only an ugly spot with something protruding. It did not hurt any more so I forgot it. Doing my hair in my sleeveless shirt I saw an even angrier spot with something looking like a part of the bush and a fairly large red area surrounding it. Since it was Friday and I had nothing that would kill germs I felt I needed some one to look at it. The nurse practitioner pulled out what was protruding and put germ killing stuff on it. And finally it began bleeding. Today is Saturday and I think I will live. Or in other words I think whatever kills me, it won't be a lilac bush.

My house is empty

The three girls left this morning and I miss them already. The only sign that they were here, the refrigerator is still full of wonderful food. This morning Martha made an egg omelet and used up a variety of food and it was delicious. But there are so many more remainders. We went out to eat several times but cooked dinner here except last night when there was a request for Blue Flame ribs. We ordered take out, and there are even two ribs that I can have with my Vodka and Tonic tonight. 

Remainders and reminders. My heart is filled with the warmth of their love. I have told you that we have two new families in our immediate neighborhood. Martha said,  'Let's invite people for a quick little coffee hour so they get to know who lives near them and all of a sudden there were ten or twelve people gathered in this little minute room. We had tiny sandwiches with cucumbers and thin, thin ham, and sugar cookies and chocolate covered almonds.  

I was encouraged by the girls to use my walker more. So I walked down to their car, using it, and I have to admit it is much easier to walk. And so another long fare-well. I don't want to rely on the walker too much, for walking with it makes me feel old. I am old, but do I want to feel it?

Who appreciates it when it's there

This morning, at the clinic, while waiting for the blood thinning technician, I was watching another victim. She was reading our local paper. It is so thin and so elongated that she was having to pick up her right leg, putting the heel of her foot on her left leg to prop it up. There she sat, comfortable as can be, occasionally letting her hand scratch the foot resting on her knee. She was wearing go-aheads. (fancy ones) I wanted to tell her to enjoy her youth. She wasn't so young. She was wearing black and probably on her way to her office job. It was a pose impossible for me.

Later in the day I was standing at the counter of our office supply store and when I got the change  after my purchase I dropped a coin on the floor. It looked like a nickel and I weighed the effort of picking it up or the waste of not picking it up. I decided for the latter. Then the customer standing next to me picked it up and it turned out to be a dime. I think I would have made the effort for a dime. But my goodness, it is tiring to go in and out of a couple of stores.

Heart warming

Thank you all for commenting on my blog after this long hiatus. I am touched. And I have missed all of you, also.

Here at the home, we have missed our bus driver, Keith. He has spent several weeks in Sweden and Norway. He should be back any day. He promised he would buy the third book by Steeg Larsson in Swedish. I will be able to tell you if the translator does a good job. I am in the middle of another 900+ book and it is riveting. Called the OUTLANDER. While my computer was down I read THE PILLARS OF THE EARTH. Another 900+ page book. I highly recommend both of these books. Early history of our life on this earth. 

Aging is a strange experience. When I was 89 plus 395 days, everyone I met said 'I can't believe you are that old'  You should see me now! I am struggling to walk with a cane. I have a walker but am hesitant about using it. My face is aging faster than my legs. And for the first time I have rhumatic kind of pains in joints most people don't know the names of. I don't want you to think I am complaining. I am so lucky to be able to do what I do. I love my cat. I love my children. I love living where I am. And I am lucky to be able to drive and be that independent. I am mentioning this only as a surprising thing I have discovered. 

Gilbert, my son, who is living in what was our house till he bought it years ago, is in southern California. I promised I would go down to keep his dog company. Rusty is the father of Cap. I go down around noon. On my way there I buy lunch to go, and eat it at our dining room table. Rusty knows a few crumbs will fall to his benefit and he is happy to see me arrive. Then we go out in the fenced yard and when he has done his duty we go back in and I sit in what was my chair to read whatever I am reading. Quite early I drop off for a nap and I am sure he enjoys my snoring. My naps rarely last longer than half an hour. A very nice neighbor takes Rusty for a walk in the morning and another in the evening.

Next week my three daughters are coming for a four day visit. We are going to celebrate Jane's birthday. I have a large bag of frozen raspberries in my freezer. Jane loves to can things and we are going to make jam and all share what evolves. A friend, Donna, picked the berries in her yard, froze them and gave them to me. What a friend. During the days they are here I have a feeling there will be no blogs.

my computer is working again

Fun things have happened since the last time I wrote. Chris, my daughter in law, and I went into Seattle on the Senior Center bus to shop at IKEA. I drove a mechanized shopping cart for the first time. Easiest thing. Wish I had tried much earlier. Didn't buy much, but so much fun looking at all that merchandize. The meatball lunch was great. On the way home we stopped at Trader Joe's  in Tacoma and there I bought their triple Ginger Snaps. Yum.

Here, back at the farm, things are developing. The place is more beautiful than ever. The gardens have been manicured and it would be difficult to find a weed anywhere, nor a blade of grass that is longer than it is ordered to be. All our windows have been cleaned on the outside. The flowers are sensational. We have a marine layer of what looks like fog, but isn't every morning. It lasts a few hours in and then you  could imagine you were elsewhere, for it gets warm in the afternoon. No one is complaining.

We have had two cottages unoccupied for a while, but now they are all rented. A couple from Minnesota are moving in to the one directly across from my place. May turn out they are relatives of mine. For all people from Minnesota are Swedes? So I have heard. Lots of relatives went to America around the end of the 1800s. A lot of them never wrote home after they left Sweden. So who knows.

To all the wonderful people who have blogged, wondering why there was so much silence coming from my blog, I appreciate your concern and your care. I have missed blogging, but now that my computer is healthy again, I will try to get in touch more often.

Sorry about this long silence

The porcelain painting lessons were very enriching. But the traveling took a lot out of me. I am now convinced, that when you are ninety, you cannot do all that you want to do. I hate to think what my condition might have been, had I driven myself. Each time I returned home, I vegetated one whole day to get restored. Another reason for my absence from my computer is that there are so much sensational coverage of sports on the TV. Baseball continues. (Mariners are loosing too often, but if you are a real fan you continue hoping). Then the World Cup in soccer. And the basket ball is working toward the end of the year. And to day is the last day of the Open in golf. I am going to watch that as much as I can. And I want to begin a new project. I am going to try to do a small Panama type of embroidery of a few leaves and one or two flowers from the bush in my backyard. I hope I haven't waited too long.

EMDK managed to get a message to me, regarding the windmill in Viken. I am so grateful. She told me that Lindberg didn't come from Denmark. I knew that. But his ancestors came from Denmark. We read in the papers that he intended to visit the small village and every time we heard a plane flying overhead, we would search the sky to find the plane, and then we would say, That's Charles Lindberg going to Denmark to see his relatives. There were very few planes flying overhead in those days. But our imaginations were flying everywhere.

A very good friend from our Diablo days who had three children came back for me to remember how kind she was and how talented she was. Her son, who is an attorney, happened upon my blog and managed to get in touch with my son. He had found a portrait his mother had painted of him, and he wanted to come deliver it. And so I was invited for dinner when they touched base. It was wonderful getting caught up with them. We had lost touch when we moved to Laguna Beach. His parents had moved about the same time we did. So Christmas cards must have been lost. I have always wondered what happened. She was so talented and so unsure of her talent. I am sitting here looking at a huge bouquet of flowers, brought from the big outdoor market in Seattle. Thank you Tom.

New Adventure

Tomorrow I will go to Bainbridge Island for a series of lessons in Porcelain painting. In 1945 I took lessons in this subject in Sweden while I was waiting for Sam to come from Germany to join me. I painted the soup terrine (sp) and the tiles for a coffee table and a couple of lamps and smaller items. I have never found a way to have ware such as this fired and I felt taking lessons from this teacher whose work I really admire was the solution to finding these sources.

The classes are early in the fore noon so I have to leave here early in the morning. Luckily I don't have to drive for Gilbert and Chris will take me to Polsbo, more than half the way, and Anna will pick me up and take me to my destination. I am so lucky to have such co-operative relatives, for I am a little unsure of driving that far. The second class will be on Saturday and I will be spending the meantime with Anna and Steve and their new Blood Hound. I'm anxious to meet her, the dog, and to see all the new things in their house, such as a new kitchen and other alterations to their house.

And tomorrow night Anna and Steve have invited good friends of mine who moved from here to Bainbridge a couple of years ago, to come for dinner. That will be fun. Friday Anna and I will have some shopping to do. There is the most fantastic yarn store there.

Saturday is another class and then I will reverse my mode of travelling. A neighbor, Mary Fran has promised to check on my cat while I am gone.

A historical thing happened last week. Ken Griffey Jr retired from baseball. It made me very sad. I have shed a tear over a baseball player only once before. When Lou Gehrig gave his farewell speech in Yankey Stadium in the late 1930s or early forties, I shed many tears.

Windmills

I don't know if I ever talked about the windmill in my hometown. When I was little and sent by my mother to the bakery to buy a loaf of bread, I had to pass the windmill where the farmers were waiting in line to have their seeds milled into flour. In my earliest memories of this, they were accompanied by their horses who had pulled their wagons. Later they came in tractor pulled carts. There were huge round stones piled against the the wall. I think they are still there.

The reason I am bringing up the windmill is that someone sent a picture of a windmill in her tract in Denmark. If I knew how to do it I would include the photo she sent me. And I would write to my best friend in Sweden to get a picture of that wwindmill and ask all of you if you think they could have been built by the same builder.

My father's grandfather came from Denmark and settled in Viken. He built the windmill there and later became a shipbuilder. He named the windmill SOFIA. It is now restored to its full glory. They are raising money to keep it as an exhibit from the past. When we were in Sweden with Gilbert and his family we were given a tour and demonstration of how it worked in the olden days.

All I know is that his name was Lindberg and that he came from vaguely the same area of Denmark that Charles Lindberg came from. Now I would like to get news of who built that Danish windmill, when it was built and is it identical to the one in Viken. I will let you know if I solve this interesting story.

What a coincident

Yesterday I went to our Farmer's Market to check out the hats that I spoke of when the bicycle ladies were here. There were no hats to my liking. (We just had a week-long meeting of ESPRIT, a convention for cross dressers, and no doubt they bought all the good ones) I had dreaded going there, for they are in a new place in town and I didn't know where to park and I didn't know how many stairs I would encounter. I drove around looking for a parking place and there were none on the street. So I went into a little alley below the building and found that there was an outdoor elevator taking you up to where the action is. And even better for my next visit, there is handicap parking even closer to the elevator.

So I looked around for the hat department. There sat a lady working on some llama yarn. She was not carding or spinning, she was melding two colors of the yarn and making it into a ball for future sale. So I asked her if she had been coming to the Port Angeles Farmer's Market for long. Did you come when it was held on eight street? She said yes. Did you ever have a basket with kittens? She said yes, many times. In 1998 I got one of your kittens. Oh, are you the lady who came after the funeral of your husband? I said yes. And my cat is still alive and healthy and I love him so much. We laughed and she said 'I have to get a hug.'
I did not remember what she looked like in 1998 but the whole setting was so similar.

To Em in DK. Are you in one of the Dakotas or are you in Denmark? Glad to know there are Salmon berries in your area. I think they got that name because the berries are salmon colored. Sorry to say I have no pictures of my water colors. I think 1% of my attempts have been successful. Most of my tries have been small scale, cards and such.

Condition

I am speaking now of my condition. I feel happy about several Salmon Berry bushes in full bloom that I have to pass every time I am on my way to my garage. And I am equally thrilled when I open my curtains in the morning. Every time I have to go to the grocery store I pick a small bloom with a couple of buds and they last on my kitchen counter two or two and a half days. I am promising myself that I will paint a watercolor of the bush or at least a card of the single one sitting on the counter. Watercolors are difficult to paint for it is such a fleeting time one has to accomplish anything. I promise myself TOMORROW. If I dawdle too long I will have to live until next year when they bloom again. I am such a coward.

My own condition has been a sorry story. I don't think I told you about having to go to the dentist a couple of weeks ago. I had a tooth way back in the rear of my mouth that had at one time suffered a root canal. About four or five years ago that tooth broke off about level with my gum. As time passed this loss caused pain in my jaw joint. So I had to use pain medicine. I took two extra strength Tylenal every morning and two every evening. It made my life tolerable but unbeknownst to me, it totally threw off my blood-thinning treatment and suddenly that had to be re-arranged. What a nuisance. I should not complain for I have been lucky as far as health is concerned.

My good friend Toni, came for a visit. I told you about her fabulous gifts while she was here. Yellow orchids, a bottle of rum from her home Island in the Virgin Islands, a wonderful dinner at our best Mexican restaurant and it goes on and on. And then I got a large envelop with probably 15 American stamps. In it a beautiful embroidery from the Panama area. I love the work they are famous for and I am going to try to copy that. It will not be a native American sort of pattern. Maybe I can try to make a Salmon berry pattern. I will let you know what develops. Thank you Toni.

Read Cassie's comments

I read Cassie's comments several times and I felt I received a history lesson. It is so well written and so sympathetic to the cause and yet so opposite from the way I think. If the Latinas who moved to Arizona were treated the same way I was treated when I first arrived, they would feel at home and would return to Mexico just to see old friends and relatives.

I told earlier about a trip Sam and I took to Mexico. On a train. The train left San Francisco and went to El Paso via Los Angeles. We had tiny bedrooms but ate food that was like food from the best San Francisco restaurants. Our American crew left the train when we crossed into Mexico at El Paso. The chef remained on board but he was a tourist like the rest of us. I wish I knew how to find were I discussed this trip. I think I will google Copper Canyon and see what happens. See you later.

Tried it , but found nothing about our trip. There were thirty to forty passengers on the train. Our cars were attached to the Mexican locomotives and sometimes we had to sit and wait for what seemed hours for a train to come to haul us to our next destination. When we came to big cities the train would wait for us at the station so we could check into a hotel to do our bathing and shampooing. And our sight-seeing. I think we stayed in Mexico City for five days. After that stop we headed for Mayan Country were we saw the pyramids. And we also got to see how the people lived there. Our guide took us to his home and showed how all members of his family slept in 'hangmattor' (sometimes I search in every nook and cranny in my brain for the right word in english and in this case it has taken over 24 hours and it refuses to turn up.) If I had a pencil I could have shown you what I mean.

When we waited for a long time to get going I would sit on the steps of our carriage and soon a child would arrive, curious about a rain stopping just there. I would do a quick drawing of the beautiful face, tear off the drawing to give the child, and as soon as he or she scampered off, there would be ten more waiting. If there was any pushing, or getting out of line, one of our porters would quietly restore order. By the time our train left that spot, there would be hundreds of faces waiting and two hundreds of big black eyes looking disappointed. What beautiful people they were.

Another fabulous weekend

Friday Anna had eight of her bicycle friends for a sleep-over at Gilbert's house. (G is back in Colorado) All, except one, were recipients of the socks that I told abut earlier. All of the ladies slept in sleeping bags in the master bedroom. with the door open, protected from a sea lion invasion* only by the screen door. They did not know about this danger until the following evening.

After breakfast the whole gang arrived at my place. It was so much fun seeing them again. All of them came to Anna's and my birthday party, and they had spent the night with me while the house was mine a couple of times earlier. So I feel very close to them. They spent a couple of hours here and then the gang broke up. Most of them went biking at Lake Crescent and the other group went shopping. A Holland American cruise ship was in town, which was an awesome sight. All the merchants were behaving as if it was a common occasion hoping all tourists would come back again. Two of our ladies bought hats at the Farmer's Market. Hats knitted in wool and then boiled. They were good looking hats and cost only forty dollars. (I am buying one next Saturday)

That evening I was invited by them to have dinner. Even had pick-up service so I could have a drink there. The drink was impressive. Even had a parasol in it. A Margarita. The food was impressive too. Leg of lamb, roasted potatoes and a huge salad. For dessert we had chocolate ice cream with a wonderful sauce. Some people put salt on it. We sat at the table talking for a long time after dinner.

In the afternoon I had a long conversation with Jane, my third daughter. I told her how tiresome older people are, so self-
involved and so insistent on talking about themselves. She jokingly said PUT A SOCK IN IT. We laughed, but I went looking for a sock to take with me in the evening. I used it a couple of times but everyone at the table said, no we want to hear about your life and your adventures. It turns out, that among the eight people there, Anna is the only one who still has a mother. So I will adopt the other seven.

*Maria, who lives down the street came over to see what was going on in Gilbert's house. There were four cars in his driveway. She also told of the sea lions who have invaded their house. Four baby lions and a non-lactating female live under their deck. And they smell so awful it is difficult to remain in the house. Gilbert was notified of this and he said he had it checked before he left and there is nothing under his house.

Night time radio

Last night I woke up at 2.30 and my radio was tuned in to KGO in San Francisco as usual. I always listen for a while to John Rothman when I first go to bed. Sometimes for hours, sometimes I can't remember a word he said for I was tired enough to go to sleep as soon as my head touched the pillow. That's what happened last night. And then I woke up too early and listened to Ray Thaliafero until five am when I got up to take a shower .

What I heard Ray say upset me SO much. He was correct but I never heard it before and it is true what he said. The discussion was about the governor of Arizona. Her latest edict is that there can be no studies in public schools about black or Mexican traditions. A man had called in saying: My parents came from Italy. They came legally, became citizens, and led fruitful lives. Why can't the Mexicans do the same? Ray said 'where your parents black?' No they were Italians. 'What color were they?' They were Italians. 'Were they brown? No they were Italians. Were they yellow? No they were white. Ah, they had no trouble getting to be citizens. Read up on our history and see what happened to the first chinese who came here. They were used to build our rail roads and then could not become citizens nor could they buy Real Estate. And how did the blacks get here. They were shipped in to become slaves. And how long before they could become citizens. And how long before they could ride the buses or eat in our restaurant? And what about the mexicans? When they come across the border because they want to earn money to send home, they work in the fields and live in sub standard housing, and get sub standard pay.

This is what I remember from this nocturnal conversation. I can not get this out of my mind. And what have I done during my ninety year long life to ease or help anyone so unfortunate. I remember paying a woman twice what she charged for doing my laundry in Georgia. She charged quarters and I paid her dollars. I did not have any money for we were paid $60 a month and our room and board, but her charge was ridiculous and she picked up and delivered. That is a tiny thing to put on my grave stone.

Maybe one other thing could be put there also. I never allowed anyone to use the N word in my presence. Even my step father-in-law. We were sitting at the dinner table in HIS house and he used it. I said I will eat in the kitchen if you must use that word. He never did it again and we had a fine relationship while Sam was overseas. But ninety years. I could have done more.

Maybe, one scary day when I had to drive around the Los Angeles area to find a town were we would like to move. The free ways were new to me. I was in Long Beach I think, when I saw a huge building in the distance and discovered that it was Sears.
I stopped and went in to ask were I could have a cup of coffee. They sent me to the seventh floor I think. I got a cup and looked around to see where I could sit. There were not many people there. I saw a table with a teenage boy and asked if i may sit. He nodded. Then I tried to start a conversation and realized he spoke no English. That was fun for me for I had had four lessons at the famous language school in New York. I tried and tried. Finally I made out that he was going to go to work someplace. I asked him about School and he hung his head and said no dinero. I said save money and later and he just got sadder and sadder. I had never seen anybody so without hope. I've never forgotten him. I hope now he is rich and honest .

Weekend number 2 plus

I forgot to tell of all the wonderful things that came my way last weekend.

Anna brought a gift bag that had something strange in it. I had to guess and my first guess, because it had a long handle sticking up, was that it had to be a musical instrument. The weight of it made it impossible to think it was something intimate.I took too long to guess, so it was revealed. It was a ten foot coiled hose with a long handle to irrigate all the flowers and herbs on my little 'deck'. Anna went out to water at once and discovered that a ten foot hose with a long handle would not reach from the farthest corner where the source of the water came from to the side where most of my herbs are. And so Anna went back to the store and got the next length in hose. I can now get baskets for hanging. no way I could have reached to water before.

And I got a book and a card from Martha about food. Michael Pollan's FOOD RULES. Amusing short little thoughts about our new rules. Enjoyed the one that said 'thank you to mother who would not let us eat margarine'. Martha also sent a magazine called WRITER'S DIGEST and page 54 WRITING ADVICE and out of 16 advice blogs there is one called PLOT WHISPERERS FOR WRITERS AND READERS 'The always inspiring Martha Alderson helps you tackle your plot problems' What a great gift. I always feel she is inspiring.

And then Toni brought me a magazine Spring 2010 AMERICAN ARTIST. There are 8 pages about Toni and illustrations showing her paintings. Since I gave her her first water color set when she was a little girl, and painting lessons it made me feel warm and happy. Toni also gave me an orchid with yellow flowers and a bottle of rum that came from her island in the Carrebean.

There was more, but Edgar is sitting outside the front door asking to come in.