So My Sister Calls

So my sister calls and says, "You know that you have boxes here in storage."  I didn't remember so we went over and started to open them.

What do you know...they were full of memories.  One box was from our cruising days in New Orleans during Madi Gras.  Lots of beads and other stuff.  But lots of memories.

The next box was full of books.  Cynthia's books.  I think that she has now re-read most of them.  It was a walk down memory lane for her too.

The final box was full of Sailing Books.  All the how-to and what you should bring on a cruising boat, cruising guides for various parts of the Gulf Coast.  We had unloaded them before heading to Guatemala.  We wanted to lighten the boat!

Memories of the Texas ICW Guide, the Guide to Western Florida, Essential Cruising and Celestial Navigation.

Not sure what to do with the books.  I know what to do with the memories.  Treasure them.

Who Do You Think You Are?

The title of a weekly show, brought to you by Ancestry.com is called; Who Do You Think You Are?  It follow celebrities as they go searching for their ancestors.

Usually there is at least one moment when they are touched by what they found out about a certain member of their family.  I know for me there are several moments when a certain someone touches me.  Amazingly enough it is really not the famous ones, though I have them too.  It is the ones that were extraordinary ordinary people.  They struggled with daily life as most of us do.  They tried to do their best as most of us do.

Lately I have been working on my mom's side of the family.  They are a mysterious lot.  They peek out on a census and then disappear.  They have names like George and Tom and their last name is Smith!

Mom lost track of her brothers after she got married.  You must remember when she was a little girl the depression was on and her brothers went to work  on WPA projects.  World War II further separated the family.

Yesterday I had two moments.  I found the headstone of one of her brothers and I finally found the Social Security Death Record of the other.

You might think that this is only a sad tale.  Two brothers found only after death.  It is NOT.  It IS the completion of a desire to have knowledge.  Knowledge good or bad about them, her brothers.

This search has brought me closer to my mother than I could ever imagine.  Each photo, each scrap of paper has a story and she knows them all.  She tells me them has she holds those little pieces of her past with tears in her eyes and a frog in her throat.  She tells me about them with a twinkle in her eye and laugh over a good time remembered.  She tells me the story that is the fabric of OUR LIVES.

I can not tell you what a blessing it is to still have Mom around, to share my finds with her and my frustrations over another dead end.

Yesterday I stood for her at her brothers grave and shed tears for a man that I only know through her.  Thanks Mom.

The disconnected...connected People

Cynthia had an appointment with the Orthodontist. It is very modern.  All the office and every aspect is linked through a network.  They have you sign in on the computer which lets the techs know you are there for your appointment.  Only this morning they were in day two of switching to new software.  Every computer was in updating mode and the staff had to do things the old fashion way.  It was painful to watch.

It was interesting in the waiting room.  There were about 12 of us waiting.

As parents and patients arrived and took their seats each reached into a bag or pocket and brought out a cellphone or some other electronic device.  There was one mother, who actually had a paper magazine.  What a pariah!

So there we were all in the same room, no one talking to each other.  Some were texting, some playing games, some reading an ebook, and some surfing the web.

Cynthia and I play words with friends.  Even though we are in the same room we send our answers over the wi-fi.

With all the texting that goes on spelling and punctuation have suffered greatly.  Few touch type unless on a full keyboard.  Touch typing is a lost art.  Kids type with thumbs only and some are faster than "Mavis the Typing Tutorial."

All this new technology was suppose to bring us closer and connect us in ways never imagined.  I am not sure that it has accomplished its goal, or may-be it has.

I know it is great to use "face time" to watch the grand-kids while talking on the phone.  I love the games that keep me occupied for hours.  I think it is wonderful to take as many books with me as I want on an electronic device.  In fact, I have my books synced over 5 devices.  Over kill, but I always have something to read with me no matter what device I may have with me.

The sad thing is that when in a restaurant it breaks my heart to see couples on their phones and talking and not saying a word to each other.  They could do that home.

What I do know is that Dick Tracy would be amazed.

Burnt Sugar Cake and Helicopters

From the day that we married Michael has asked me to find the recipe for Burnt Sugar Cake.  I have looked and looked and have been unable to find it.  It seems that his mother made this cake when he was a boy.  I know it is hard to think of Michael as a boy, but he was and he really wants this cake.  His sister has looked through his mother's recipes and no luck.

Well, the worm has turned.  Seems that while my mother was volunteering at a library she found in the throw away basket a cookbook.  The Mennonite Community Cookbook to be exact.  When she opened the book, it opened to a recipe for Burnt Sugar Cake!

Ready to Frost

The Final Touches

So Cynthia and Mom made the cake and Mom and I made the Brown Sugar Boiled Frosting....I can still taste it. 

Not to be left out Michael and Dad decided to play with Michael's new Remote Controlled Helicopter.  Trust me watching them was like watching two five year olds let loose in a candy store.  They both had grins from ear to ear.

Reading the directions was like reading the translation from Chinese for Mah Jongg.  They made no sense.  These were translated from Chinese also.  I think they used the same translator.

They actually read the directions

Then got a consultation

Possible lift off!

 It was a full afternoon.

There Is Dirt Under My Fingernails

I have spent the last 10 years living on a sailboat.  While on the boat full-time I never felt the need to get my hands in the dirt.  I wasn't one of those cruisers that had a little herb garden on the deck or under the bimini.

Even while in the marina I never once felt the urge to help plant flowers or herbs.  I was content with my watery ways.

Now I have a very little piece of land in the desert and I want to plant everything.  Containers work well here.  But with every little flower planted I wonder, "How will I leave?  Who will water them?"  This can't be good.  Does this mean that my anchor is finding a new home?

I miss my boat and anchoring out and riding in the dinghy.  It is very strange to not be "there".  I find myself living through friend's Facebook posts and Blogs.  I dream about sailing and tasting salt in the air.   But in reality I damn the wind that is drying out my plants and scan the sky for any rain cloud.

Transition is hard.  But the flowers are beautiful.

First Rose

Rose Bloom

Blowing in the Wind

Emotional Tsunami

If I were British I would say that I am gobsmacked.  But since I am not British I will be speechless!

I keep being drawn to the video and still photos of the utter destruction of Japan.  I can’t believe it and it did not even happen to me.

Containers

So how do you even begin to pick up the pieces when there are so many pieces?  How do you move a ferry from the top of a house?  How do you begin to pick up all the boards and garbage and still have hope in your heart that things will get better?

I watched a video that was six minutes in length.  It started as a little bit of water on the street and before you realized it a large fishing vessel was trying to make a left hand turn on the street and then the buildings began to move through the street.  It was horrific and that still doesn’t capture the total destruction.

These aren’t just cars, boats, houses and containers.  All these items belonged to someone.  Someone that will not have a place to sleep tonight, food to eat tonight, water to drink or wash his or her body.

Mothers and fathers are trying to assure their children that, “everything will be okay” when I am sure they are not sure of that at all.  But it is what we do.  We can admit to ourselves in the darkest hours of the night that we have lost hope and can’t see how everything can ever be okay again.  But with our spouses and especially with our children we reassure and smile bravely.

I have heard people that are on the side of helping Japan in their hour of need.  I have heard people say that we shouldn’t lift a finger to help them.  Remember Pearl Harbor?  Funny the same people who don’t want us to help them use the computer chips that are made in Japan.  Some drive cars that were designed and perhaps, built in Japan.  This is the same country where we dropped the atomic bomb.  Not once, but twice.  I watched Rudy Giuliani stumble over this fact as he was speaking about the nuclear plant radiation issue.

As humans we do horrific things to each other.  We do them in the name of religion, patriotism, and some just because we can.  Now is the time to help the people of Japan.  Now is the time to show what we are made of, instead of only being happy that it isn’t the United States that is recovering from this quake and tsunami or that Japan bombed us and led death marches. 

Look into the anguished faces of the Japanese people.  How can we not be touched?

And She Cooks!

Cynthia has shown an interest in cooking.  I am thrilled.  This means that she will start to cook and I can have a day off.  Though I really like cooking.

Zin Zen Chicken

Rice in a Chicken and Wine Broth

For Christmas Cynthia got a Rachel Ray Cookbook.  It has pictures so that you know what the food is suppose to look like when you are preparing the meal.

Her first meal was Zin Zen Chicken.  Wow!  It was tasty, well prepared and I think that she enjoyed it.  In fact, she is now preparing dinner every Wednesday.  I am enjoying looking at recipes with her and shopping and watching her learn new techniques.

Plating

Papa eating!

Another upside of this is that I have engaged in a life-style change.  That is fancy terminology for "Dieting".  Started a food journal and bought a bicycle for exercise.  I am dropping some pounds and I feel better.  Cynthia is a tough task master and an inspiration to keep on keeping on!