The End of My Summer Adventure - Africa

I am back and am still a bit breathless about what I saw and experienced. It was incredibly wonderful and I now better understand what my friend Sally meant when she said, "You can divide travel into two groups - the rest of the world and Africa." It was such a different type of trip, different from anything else I have experienced. I suspect all eco-tours are that way - instead of focusing on what humans have done you look at nature. And what nature it was.

I saw thousands of animals in their natural setting. Before I left I had decided to count the number of animals I saw and divide it by the cost of the trip. Given that this trip cost more than any I have ever taken (just getting to Africa is really expensive) I decided to look at it in terms of cost per animal. Was it worth it? Or was going to a zoo more cost effective? So stupid of me. There is nothing better than seeing animals in their natural environment. I know, duh. But also, how do you accurately count a herd of zebra? A flock of guinea hens? A field full of baboons cavorting in front of you? A raft of hippos whose heads rise and sink in the river bed while you watch? I quickly gave up counting. My first African sunset - standing on the savanna (gin and tonic in hand) looking out over hundreds of zebras and elephants at the big, fat, bright orange African sun sinking below the horizon - well, that single experience was worth the entire cost of the trip.

I am still gathering thoughts about how to best convey my African experience so plan to write about it in several entries to follow but here are some general thoughts:

1.  It takes a LONG TIME to get to and from Africa. The trip home?  Between stepping foot in the Cape Town, South Africa airport and stepping out of the plane at San Francisco?  35 hours.  Yes, 35 hours.  4 flights (Cape Town to Johannesburg - 2 hours; Johannesburg to Dakar, Senegal - 8 hours, Senegal to Washington D. C. - 8 hours, Washington to SFO - 6 hours and then add 11 hours waiting for flights in the various airports). God bless inflight movies - I watched 8 on the way home.

2.  It is really important to have a good camera when going on Safari - note to Donna - get a new one.  How stupid I was. I bought my camera in 2004 - it's now 2012 - 8 years later; digital technology has greatly changed. When I looked at what others were producing with their cameras I wanted to cry. I gave up half way through when I realized how horrid the quality of my shots were. Thankfully, thankfully, thankfully, others have offered to share so in later entries you will see some great shots. Here is an example of one of my shots:

The good thing about this photo? You can see how close we got to animals (and were much closer on later outings). I didn't have much zoom capacity and this is without using my limited zoom. The bad thing? Note the pink tinge on the top. No idea what caused this but it appears on many of my photos. I know - can anyone be more stupid than to not thoroughly check their camera BEFORE going on Safari?

3. As always, the people I met were wonderful. I will never forget their kindness and enthusiasm in sharing their part of Africa with me. This includes all of our guides, the staff in the 4 camps where we stayed, the villagers, the bush pilots, the school children and the charming people who convinced me to buy more African trinkets than I could possibly use!

4.  And the memories.  I saw thousands of animals as I bounced around on the seats of open-sided Land Rovers, slept in tent cabins among the animals (and slept right through the noise of elephants eating the trees and shrubs around our tent and the hippos honking from the nearby river), took an outdoor shower next to a termite mound while zebras and elephants munched savanna grasses nearby, played the role of "co-pilot" in a tiny bush plane, was almost killed by stampeding elephants in Botswana, fished in the Lufupa River in Zambia, played with children in a school in Zimbabwe, sat on the floor of a village hut while learning about village ways, stood in awe of the thundering sounds and mist created by the water falling over Victoria Falls then crawled along the original catwalk underneath the 100 year-old Victoria Falls bridge, stood in the doorway of Nelson Mendela's prison cell on Robben Island, had dinner with a "colored" family in Cape Town and discussed their post-Apartheid lives, walked through a black Township where people were forced to move when Cape Town's District 6 was razed, stood and looked out at the ocean from the Cape of Good Hope - and interacted with such wonderful people every step of the way.

Much more to come.

Week #4 of My Summer Adventure - Marin

It's all done - everything is packed. I leave tomorrow morning. I learned a BIG lesson in Egypt last year when my suitcase went missing for the first week of the trip. Now, to be fair, we got the first flight to Cairo out of JFK after the airport had been closed for several days due to a major snow storm so conditions were a bit crazy but living without a suitcase teaches one lessons. I learned. I have a 15 pound carry-on that will see me though the 3 weeks of safari if all else is lost - 2 outfits, meds, hiking boots, jacket, sweater, necessary docs, etc. The other duffle, 17 pounds, has the less critical, stuff.

It is a little challenging because it is winter in the part of Africa we are visiting - Zimbabwe, Zambia, Botswana and South Africa (we will spend 5 days in Cape Town at the end) and we sleep in tents with no heat. It will be in the high 30s at night and when we do our first animal viewings of the day thus hats, gloves, warm jackets, long underwear, etc. are recommended. It warms up by mid day so I'll be shedding layers however it means packing much more than one would if touring in summer.

This is a tour like none other I have done. In past trips I have marveled at the wonders of geography and human creativity, this time I am observing animals in their natural setting. How glorious. However I also know that I want them to remain content with their own diet and be uninterested in munching on me! Apparently we hear animal noises all around us as we sleep in our tents at night. A friend who went on this same trip two years ago had elephants stand right next to her tent. Another had baboons break in during the day because she left candy inside. That I understand - reminds me of the bears at Yosemite.

The only thing I actually dread is the flight. 5 hours to Washington D.C. then 17 hours to Johannesburg (and 19 hours on the way back). That's a LONG time to be squished into an airline seat. I hope I can sleep through a lot of it. Hmmm, perhaps some wine is in order.

I'll be in contact when I get back.  Oh my.

Week #3 of My Summer Adventure - Yosemite

The drive to and from Yosemite is spectacular - gotta love the western side of the Sierras. The golden hills were a feast for my eyes. That aside, my decision (which I do not regret) to visit friends Sunday morning and afternoon in Carmel Valley meant that I entered the park about 9:30 p.m.. Finding a specific camp site in the dark is VERY difficult. I finally gave up, pulled over and asked a father, with a young daughter in tow, for the number of any site he could see so I could figure out which way to head when, incredibly, my brother Carroll appeared. I don't know who was more surprised - he or I - but I was grateful to have blindly stumbled into the right area. By the way, that 5-year old daughter who accompanied her father looked up at me and said, softly, "You are going to have a really good time here."  I told her, quite solemnly, that I knew I would.

It took 3 trips, stumbling in the dark, to unload my few belongings - sleeping bag and pillow, small suitcase, camp chair, carton of stuff that might help when camping and cooler.  I tried to be as quiet as possible because it was 10 by the time I started loading food, lotion, toothpaste etc. into the 2 bear lockers outside my tent.

I love the Housekeeping units and am also aware that they are at the very bottom of the luxury scale at Yosemite (well, setting up your own tent would be more challenging). If any of you are unfamiliar with Housekeeping, let me share how the Wall Street Journal described it several years ago in an article about the infrastructure at the park. Let's see, their exact words were "worse than a Third World refugee camp." Unfair. Sure, you get your water from leaky faucets scattered among the sites and the actual tent canvases appear to been through the war. And, yes, there is dust everywhere but hey, we are talking camping here. Slowly Yosemite is updating the units. Mine had new beds (a double and a bunk bed) - gone are the twisted, tilting beds with lumpy mattresses of the past.

My unit - note how few supplies I have.

This photo shows the table, seats and counter along the back wall that are attached to the unit.  Inside the curtain (you can see it on the right edge of the photo) is the space with beds and storage unit. The bear lockers are outside. What elevates this from good ol' tent camping? There are two lights and two sockets.  Ah, electricity!  It changes everything.

Candy's Unit

Here is my sister's unit, next door - before half of her belongings were unloaded. See the difference? I was a minimalist - out of necessity. And thank goodness my extended family and friends in the other 9 tents of our group were even better stocked. Some brought grills, ice makers, massive coolers, bicycles, rafts, computers, and lots of power strips.

What is of major importance is the string of lights each family brings to hang from their stockade wall. Why so important? You use these to locate your tent after you have gone to the bathroom (in the communal facility some distance away) in the middle of the night. Of course, this assumes you have also put on your glasses. Several years ago I made the mistake of forgetting to put mine on and spent abut 30 minutes, in the dark, trying to find my tent.

The 10 tents rented by my extended family stretched along the Merced River.  That doesn't always happen. There are 300+ units in Housekeeping and probably 20% are along the river so we were lucky.

My cousin, Pattie, joined me Tuesday morning and stayed until the group broke camp on Saturday. It was lots and lots of fun.  We all spent time visiting among the tents, sitting on the beach (or, this year, because the river was so low that the water was warmer than usual, IN the river), helping whichever family was preparing dinner for the group, hiking, rafting, reading, golfing at Wawona, and visiting museums and sites within the park.

I snapped these photos on a walk Pattie and I took in the Wawona area.  So beautiful and so different from the Valley floor with its sheer walls of granite.

One of my favorite things to do while at Yosemite is to have an "Ahwahnee Day."  I pretend I am staying at the grand old hotel.

The back of the hotel - by the way, I learned on this visit (on a guided tour of the hotel) that the rocks in the towers are identified (from the bottom to the top) as 4-man, 3-man, 2-man and 1-man - according to how many men it took to lift each one.

If I can catch an early shuttle from Housekeeping to the hotel I slip in to join the hotel residents who are sipping their free coffee on the mezzanine. One of the best things about my white hair is that people assume I am legitimate - I could NOT possibly be the type to sneak in where not wanted. Wrong, oh they are so wrong.

Then I peruse the things in their wonderful stores and pick spots around the hotel to sit and read. I start in the large lounge but move every half hour or so to take advantage of all the public rooms.  This year I sat at one of the lovely old desks and wrote postcards to mail to family in Oregon.

I have lunch in the restaurant and . . . .

Drinks at the two bars (inside and outside). 

For our first drink both Pattie and I ordered El Capitanis - note the caribiners at the base of our drinks. I am sure that anyone spotting them assumed we were climbers just returned from some major feat.  Yea, right.

What I love about my Ahwahnee Day is noting the HUGE differences between life at this lovely hotel and at the Housekeeping Units.

Let's look at some of these:

Note that the Ahwahee has their own wine (and crystal glasses) for sale in the hotel store.  The photos below show the wine for sale in the Housekeeping store.

The Ahwahnee store has gorgeous leather purses, fine jewelry, lovely clothing, books and Native American artifacts for sale.  The Housekeeping store?

 S'Mores supplies - for crowds both large and small.

Although there are differences, don't get me wrong, I love everything about Housekeeping. It is somewhat amazing that 1000+ people lived in the 300 tent sites and there seemed to be no theft (and it would be so easy - everything is left out in the open) and little unpleasantness. This is especially nice in light of the fact that budget cuts have greatly reduced the number of rangers. We used to have daily visits from rangers who checked that we were properly storing anything with a scent in the available bear lockers. This year we did not have a single visit. Yes, there were some problems with campers leaving food out and we did have visits by raccoons but bears stayed away.

On the hottest afternoon Pattie and I rafted down the Merced River - we rented a raft at Curry Village.  I have since added inner tubes to the list of things to bring next year. Much cheaper to use your own than to rent but whether on raft or inner tube, it was wonderful to float along the river, with moments of frantic paddling to keep on course.

Whoops - we are on the back raft, the one having trouble - heading right toward the bank!

Looking back over the week, how much did our minimalist camping require mooching off others? Not much. We brought coffee but used my brother's technology to make it (given the electricity at our sites I have added electric coffee maker to my list for next year). My sister offered us food (which we happily ate) but, technically, we didn't ask for it. She also loaned us a second chair. That was about it for mooching.  We thus found that minimalist camping works and we liked how easy it was to pack up at the end. I have been lucky to be part of this group for the past 5 years or so - but it started 30 years ago so I am a relative newbie.

We all had much much fun at one of the most beautiful spots on earth.

I am now back at Pattie's house in Novato. We have written our next To Do list - what is still needed before we leave for Africa this coming Saturday. We have been re-reading all the docs, getting visa applications in order, packing. We will spend 15 days in 4 animal parks in Zimbabwe, Zambia and Botswana and 4 days in Capetown, South Africa. Thank goodness there are great photographers in the group - would hate to depend on my abilities for this upcoming safari.

Animals, here we come.

Week #2 of My Summer Adventure: Pacific Grove

It is wonderful to be back on the Monterey Peninsula. As I left Gilroy and began the ascent over the hills to the coast, I did the usual – held my left hand out the window to feel the temperature drop 10 degrees as the car met coastal temperatures. Ah, that welcome tang of foggy air! You know what would be truly weather-challenging? Spending summers in PG and the rest of the year in Portland – you’d have overcast gray skies all year round. Yes, fog greeted me, just as I expected. What else is new in Pacific Grove?

Last trip I reverted to California-style driving within 5 miles of my arrival at the San Jose airport. This time I was a good Oregonian driver until I hit Carmel last Sunday afternoon. What caused the sudden shift? Tourists - I had forgotten about them. The streets were full of 'em and we were all looking for the same parking space. Out the window went my kind Oregonian driving – I was late to meet friends at the Cypress Inn and DON’T GET IN MY WAY. I snagged a space just half a block from the hotel and was unapologetic. All is fair in parking battles in Carmel-By-The-Sea.

The Cypress Inn is unique. Doris Day, the owner, is a dog lover and the place encourages guests to bring their pets. Dogs were everywhere - sitting on a towel on the couch in the living room (where we had tea), in the lobby, on the terrace – and all so well behaved, so sweet. I thought about my former dog, Murphy, and how she would have, in under one minute, created complete chaos among all these well-behaved pooches. Although later dogs of mine were better behaved, none had that special attitude that was Miss Murphy's. I do miss that dog. 

My week in Pacific Grove was truly wonderful. I visited friends and places on the Central Coast dear to me. I stayed across the street from my own house (now rented) with my neighbors, Sharon and Warren.  Their house is a charming PG cottage and I can attest to the comfort of the guest bed and their hospitality - perfection in all ways.

The deck of my house.  When I walked by, the tenant called out to say hello.  I suggested that, as owner of the house, did I own part of the meat he was barbecuing at the moment?  He laughed and we caught up on how they were doing at my house.  

This is Sharon and Warren's house - across the street - where I am staying.  They are both artists and everything about their house and garden reflects their talents and skills.  

What else did I do?  I worked one morning at the Monterey Bay Aquarium. I have been a volunteer there in several different capacities over the past 24 years and refused to give back my badge when I moved to Oregon last summer. I told Ruth (head of the volunteer program) that I would volunteer every time I visited. Thankfully, she wasn't willing to fight me for the badge so our relationship continues. I let them know when I will be in the area, they find a job for me, and I happily comply. This time I updated info in the volunteer database.

I celebrated the Fourth of July with my friend, Helen, at Spreckels – a late 19th century town outside of Salinas that developed around the Spreckel's Sugar Company.  It is one of the best preserved "company towns" in the U.S. - with most of its buildings built by the sugar company for its employees. It is charming – the homes are Craftsmen style - and many are well preserved. What is amazing is that the town remains small – population of 485 - so that one can still feel what it was like there 100 years ago.

This is one of the original company homes near the park where we celebrated the 4th.

The Fourth of July celebration is home grown in Spreckels.  Folks gather on the park in the center of  town. Lots of food booths lined two sides of the park with space for sitting in the middle.  The parade began at noon - I suspect every child in Spreckels had a part as a scout, Future Farmer of America or 4-Her.  Lots of cars - old and muscle - and fire engines for added pizazz.  The celebrating families clearly enjoyed the sun, food and music.

I liked this woman's attitude and attire.  Laid back and colorful.

Parking was a challenge - far more than the 450+ residents were in attendance. We parked outside town along the lettuce fields that make the Salinas Valley so famous. I have always liked living in an agricultural area. I find myself checking the crops whenever I pass by a field. First I have to figure out what is growing and then assess how well it is doing. This field really surprised me. I have never seen 8 different types of lettuce, both red and green, grown together like this. It was spectacular.

My birthday, yesterday, was full of delights. Sharon and Warren asked where I would most like to have breakfast and, with little hesitation, I said, "Deetjen's." If you haven't been there, it's an hour's drive down the coast. Think old time Big Sur. Rustic cabins for rent surround the old wood restaurant. And what was on the menu? Easy choice for me - French toast stuffed with raspberry cream. It is INCREDIBLE. Although it was just warm enough to eat outside in the dappled light, the coffee certainly helped.

After breakfast we started north on Route 1 but stopped almost immediately at Nepenthe. Their shop called - a must if down in Big Sur. Such unique things. We celebrated our finds with cappuccinos on the deck looking out at the incredible views - both the golden hills and the Pacific Ocean.

According to locals there are many whales in the ocean this summer. We didn't see any BUT did see something equally wonderful and so unexpected. While looking back at the golden hills we spotted two large birds. Were they condors? 

Warren told me that condors can be identified by the white band on the underside of their wings. We watched in awe as the two birds dipped and soared on the wind currents and then one broke away and flew right toward us. He flew overhead - about 40 feet above us - and there was the white band. It was simply amazing to see these grand birds in flight. And no, they are not in the photo - couldn't grab my camera in time - too busy gawking.

That evening Warren, Sharon, Emily, Rod, Greg and Robin took me out to dinner in Carmel - such fun -  with the requisite candle on my dessert. And then, to finish an amazing day, off we all went to see the local production of 39 Steps - a spoof of the 1935 Alfred Hitchcock film - at the Golden Bough Theater in Carmel. We had watched the original via Netflix the night before so thoroughly enjoyed watching how the 4 actors played all the parts with much mugging, quick costume changes and hilarious staging to convey the essence of the film. I think even Alfred Hitchcock would have grinned.

A simply wonderful birthday with good good friends.

The week now comes to a close.  Much thanks to all the friends I visited. I loved every minute. Next it's on to a week of camping at Yosemite. This is going to be interesting. I have never camped with so little gear - one small suitcase, a sleeping bag and pillow, a camp chair, a cooler, and one plastic bin of anything I could find in Portland that might help in the outdoors. Thank goodness I found a string of lights to decorate the outside of my camp space. Now THAT is important. 

Week #1 of My Summer Adventure: The Family Wedding

It was wonderful, of course.  The bride was beautiful, the groom was smitten, the mothers cried, the bridesmaids strutted, the ducks quacked, the sun shone, the garden was heavy with blooms – what not to love? The entire process was a lot of fun.

I arrived at my brother’s house in Redwood City, the house where I grew up, last Monday, June 25^th, and immediately plunged into wedding plans. We discussed what had already been done, drew up lists of remaining tasks and reviewed what had worked at previous family weddings in the garden. My mantra? What does the bride want and how can we facilitate it? Jessica, my nephew’s beautiful fiancée, quietly beamed as she described how she hoped the day would unfold – and, for the most part, it did. The week flew by as we crossed items off our lists. It was fun to be back in Redwood City. I think the last time I spent a week there was before my own marriage in 1971. The city has changed quite a bit!

The only unfortunate part is that, as families expand, the number of relatives grow while available garden space remains the same. Oh how I wish we could have either squeezed more people in or had fewer relatives so that a greater percentage could attend. It just doesn’t seem quite right when all cannot share the day. I guess this will become even more of a problem as we age and generations fill in below us. On the other hand, what a nice commentary it is that life is so full of people we love that all cannot fit into one space. 

I was happy to be the go-to person on the big day. My sibs had done the same for me, 6 years before, when my daughter was married in the garden. I wanted Carroll and Melinda to have the same experience – to have as few responsibilities as possible on the actual day. Didn’t quite happen that way – we were all up early setting up tables, pinning swaths of tulle to the pergola, filling buckets with ice, moving chairs. We corralled the ducks and chickens into their coops – although the ducks, swimming on their small pond, were delightfully visible to guests. But by 4, when guests began to arrive, all was as it should be in the garden.

I look back on the day with joy but, let me add, my feet do not. Oooohhhhhh they hurt by the end of the evening. I bet I walked several miles as I moved back and forth among the bartender, DJ, caterers, photographer and guests. And that does not include the mileage on the feet of my other sibs (and in-laws) who stepped in to help as well. It would not have gone as well without all their work. The only significant mistake I made was forgetting to move the decorated cart with the cake to its correct place after the ceremony and, by the time I remembered, there was no path available between the tables. My son insisted it could be done – and he was partly right. He made it half way – and there the cart stood until the cake was cut. Everyone laughed as we watched it move, inch by inch, through the crowd.

Now, here’s the sad part – I didn’t have time to take photos – not a single one – so thanks Melinda and Melissa for sending me these two. I would like one or two of the garden and one of the cake (or the happy ducks!) so anyone who attended the wedding and has some photos can you email them to me?

Paul and Jessica exchanging vows.

Paul and Jessica Collins!

Still waiting for a photo of Paul and Jessica's cake - this is Stephanie and Dan's cake but in the same wrought iron cart.

For sentimental reasons - here are Stephanie and Dan at their wedding 6 years ago.

As Carroll shared with guests, our parents moved into this house in July of 1952, 60 years ago this summer. In that time 5 of us have celebrated our marriages in the garden – my older sister, my older brother, me, my daughter and now my nephew Paul (Carroll’s youngest son) and his new wife, Jessica.  Okay, the first marriage didn’t survive but the magic of the garden has worked well on the next 3 and, I am sure, will bless Jessica and Paul.

Early Monday morning I packed up my car and drove to Pacific Grove for a week with friends - on to the next stage of my summer adventures.

I'm BAAAACCCCKKKKK (for a visit!

I am back in California for a 2 month visit. Had a great 12-hour, one-day road trip down with my sister, Mary. We laughed a lot as we drove through light rain, overcast skies and breaking sunlight. The trees changed after we passed Mt Shasta; we lost pines and gained oaks. I didn't catch sight of the view I have most missed - scattered oaks tucked into folds of golden hills - until we neared Sacramento. Oh how I have missed that view! It was wonderful to see California hillsides glowing in the late afternoon sun.

We celebrated our entry into California by stopping at an In-N-Out Burger near Vallejo. I do love those hamburgers.  An hour later we were in Novato, tired but happy to have finished the trip.  Thank you, Pattie, for the wonderful bed that awaited. I am grateful I have a stake in two states - and both Oregon and California are so magnificent.

Friday, my last day with Wesley, was poignant. I didn't want to make a big deal about it but I am going to be gone for 2 months and I am really going to miss him. When I arrived at preschool, he was napping with all the other 2 and 3 year olds. They had had a busy day and he, according to his teacher, was really tired. I waited in the 4-year old room, looking up each time the door opened - would it be him? One by one others wandered in until, finally, it was Wesley. Clearly, he had just awakened. His hair was plastered against one side of his head and he was a bit groggy. When he spotted me he whimpered, "Gramma" and climbed into my lap. I held him close enjoying the feel of him in my arms as he slowly woke up. About 5 minutes into the "snuggle" I realized something had changed. One leg of my jeans was suddenly wet and that unique smell of urine floated up to my nose - Wesley had had an "accident" and I was the lucky recipient. I say lucky because my beloved Armenian uncle, Uncle Lev, had told me many years ago that it is good luck to have a baby pee on you - so how lucky I was, sitting there, with a wet boy in my lap.

Eventually we changed his clothes and off we went. Once at home he picked out some favorite books that we read sitting on my front steps, chatting with neighbors who walked by. We watered plants and then I had a surprise -  I showed him the early birthday gift I had received from his Aunt Mary and Uncle Colin the night before.  Here it is:

Yes, I am now the proud owner of Candy Land. But it gets better - it is a 1955 edition - the one that I played with when I was young and the one my children used.

Can you see it in this photo?  It has the same design, the same path, the same drawings, the same thick cards and the same plastic gingerbread men. I had read reviews on Amazon that complained about the newer versions with thin cards and playing pieces that fall over - but not in this set. Colin found the real thing. Mary and I immediately played one game (I won and did not cheat - did NOT stack the cards in my favor) and then on Friday Wesley and I played two games (he won one, I won the other) but I realized he is too young. He was just as happy going backwards on the path as going forwards. Didn't quite grasp the goal of the game but did enjoy matching the candy cards to their places on the map. I put it away for a later time.

He then helped me clean the basement. When I had suggested, in front of preschool classmates, that we might clean the basement, one boy said that monsters live there. Wesley thought about it and then answered, quite seriously, that the only possible monster in my basement was my Christmas tree, sitting in its bag. When we finally went down to the basement, he pointed to the tree and said that it was a very funny monster and that was it. He enjoyed helping me sweep and get things a bit more organized.

Stephanie joined us for dinner but, all too soon, it was time for them to go home. I hugged him tight and waved goodbye. I am glad I will see him  at the family wedding next weekend.

After he left I finished packing the car - everything fit - and was able to leave early Saturday morning.

I look forward to these next weeks - what an adventure - Redwood City, Pacific Grove, Yosemite, Africa, but am also looking forward to getting back to Portland in August. My heart belongs with the wee one.

I'm Closing In

Look at my desk. It's empty. The huge stack of paperwork related to my To Do list? Gone. It's in the mail, filed away, or tossed because it's no longer needed. I can't believe it. It's done. Okay, okay, there is one itty bitty thing left - the actual packing - but even that is now possible. My room, however, is a disaster. 5 big bags, pushed here and there, labeled Wedding, Yosemite, Africa - Safari, Africa - Capetown, Common To All Parts of the Trip fill the room. I can't get to my blinds to open them so the room is pretty dark unless the lights are on. Most of the bags are at least half full. I'm waiting to do a last load of laundry - but it is definitely doable. I WILL be able to leave Saturday morning. Of course, with the mounting excitement about all the wonderful things happening in my near future, I am also treasuring each minute with Wesley, my kitty cat and the joys of my life here with Stephanie, Dan, Mary, Colin, Lynne, John and my neighbors including all the kids and chickens across the street.

Yesterday Wesley and I cleaned the refrigerator - had to toss all the stuff that won't survive til August. I felt a bit like Tom Sawyer as I described the joys of refrigerator cleaning to the wee one on our way home from preschool. By the time we pulled into my driveway he could hardly wait to get started. Is this manipulation of the highest order or wisdom? Not sure but we DID have fun. I put two paper grocery bags on the floor in front of the refrigerator and he played Bagger-At-The-Grocery-Store and packed into them all the things that could survive my time away. I handled the icky stuff - into the garbage or recycling. Once all the food was gone, he watched, fascinated, as I took out the shelves and drawers. What he liked most was leaning into the empty refrigerator to wash down the inside walls. We took turns - he'd make a swipe, I'd follow up with support. In the process we searched down every bit of whatever-shouldn't-be-there on the walls and wiped it away. He liked using clean towels to sop up all the excess rinse water - both in the refrigerator and on the floor. His enthusiastic scrubbing meant that there was, indeed, a small lake beneath our feet.

Then we had the delight of washing the shelves and drawers. Water play is always fun and I was able to both convince him not to add all the rubber duckies from the bathroom to the sink and to let me handle the glass parts of the shelves (although I did let him pour a big mug full of water down each side to rinse them). He happily helped me wash the plastic parts. When it was all reinstalled we stood and looked, with great satisfaction, at what we had done. Then we put the food back. He decided to turn the butter compartment into his own special place to store the yogurts he likes.  He carefully pointed the pictures on the cartons toward him so that he can easily pick out his favorite of the moment. This is the kind of thing that would have driven me a bit mad when I was a mother. We stored butter in the butter compartment, it's where it was best placed. I needed to find things quickly. What would have happened if both children decided they each wanted a space in the refrigerator? Or worse, the same space? Today, almost 40 years later, who cares? My life is small, my obligations few, and the refrigerator is much larger than I need. I can deal with placing butter elsewhere. Let him have his special space.

There it is - note the butter, on its own, on the shelf beneath.

Today we tackled his room upstairs. The best part of the room for him, I think, is the under-the-eaves attic storage space. He likes to play there - especially if flashlights are involved. I have to lean down to get in and move around, not him. I let him decide where we should store the winter things like the space heaters (there was actually very little free space but he got to make the decisions). Then we cleaned his room. He would spray the "magic" - the cleaning product - on the dishcloth and I would rub - until he wanted to rub and then we would exchange roles. He likes the concept of vacuuming but not the actual noise so he jumped on his bed while I vacuumed sections of the floor or rug. We wiped down everything. While we cleaned the framed photographs we discussed the pictures of his Mommy when she was little. We laughed about the funny one of her showing the contents of her 4-year old mouth full of chocolate pudding. I showed him photos of my parents, my husband (his Grampa Gary who was his Mommy's Daddy and who we miss), etc.  So many generations. One wonders what his little mind makes of it all.

So what plans do I have for child labor tomorrow and Thursday?  Why the living room and basement, of course. He loves the basement so it should be fun. It is just creepy enough to make it kind of interesting but not scary. . .  and so different from upstairs. Quite satisfying.

So I move forward to a Saturday departure. Thank goodness child welfare folks aren't out watching what I am doing. Whoops, I forgot about Jennifer - if you are reading this, Jenn, it's all a lie.

ACHHHHH! Sunshine. Who Knew?

It is sunny in Portland. The sky is deep blue - not a shade of gray to be seen. Fluffy clouds float by. I am in shock - this is not usual. Well, to be fair, I have experienced bright sunshine in the past but it is rare and is sandwiched between dramatic shifts of weather within single days - overcast and gray in the morning, sun breaking briefly through followed by a short light rainfall, then a return to gray and gloomy - and it has been like this since last November. So today (and yesterday) have been startling. Beautiful and warm. How warm? Today it hit the low 80s. I know that summers are supposed to be glorious in Portland (and can get quite hot) so guess I am getting the first inklings. Looking ahead? It will soon return to the 60s and we will have rain on Monday and Tuesday but the latter half of the week is going to be gorgeous, in the mid 80s. Oh my goodness. Sun . . . in Portland.

Visitors who came in to the library today reacted in several ways. We assured the tourists among them that this is typical weather for Portland (most knew enough to know we were kidding) but it was the response from locals that most amused me. One laughingly put up his arm to protect his eyes from the sudden onslaught of the sun, another assured me that he was looking forward to the return of rain later in the week (again with a wink and a smile), another warned, "Well, just wait a minute." It was charming (and so unexpected) to see sun dresses in downtown Portland. And, get ready, no hoodies.  Well, there were a few die-hards, but most people were hoodie-less. Just too hot.

I came straight home today (yes, working diligently on my To Do List - 31 down, 11 to go), no stopping to play in the downtown area. Am glad I did because of the sight that greeted me as I turned the corner onto my street. I know there are lots of kids on my block (let's see, I can quickly count 8 below the age of 10 in the houses immediately surrounding me) and they were all out playing in the sunshine. Scooters whizzed by, a group of parents were blowing huge bubbles that children raced to pop, chalk drawings decorated the sidewalks (my favorites were the door mats carefully drawn in chalk on the street in front of each of the houses), and parents had dragged chairs to sit on lawns to watch the kids who played nearby. Thankfully, not a lot of cars drive down this street so it is a relatively safe place to play but I automatically look twice, make that 4 times, before I move out from my driveway onto the street. Today, make that 10 times.

Stephanie and Dan dropped Wesley off at 4 - I am keeping him overnight. Have to squeeze in every opportunity before leaving a week from today for an almost 2-month absence. He immediately wanted to go across the street to visit the neighbor who has chickens in her back yard. Yesterday, when we visited, only 3 of the chickens were out. He wanted to see the 4th, the one that often hides. Today we were in luck. Opie was strutting around in her magnificent plumage and Wesley watched delighted. They also have a beautiful garden and invited us to pick raspberries. Wesley loves berries more than just about anything and soon had a slightly stained mouth from popping them in as fast as he and I could pick them. It is interesting to watch him interact with the neighbor children. He is almost the youngest - by about a year - which is significant when you are closing in on 3. He is often reticent; holds my hand tightly. However, now that we are outside more, he is getting to know the kids and was interested in more interaction. I am sorry that I will be leaving so soon, it would be nice to further this along.

So, who knew? Bright sun and blue skies in Portland. I can attest that it even happened two days in a row. Although I am looking forward to my time in California and my trip to Africa I am also sorry that I will miss most of the Portland summer experience.

Tomorrow will be a bit cooler but I will be inside - working hard, working hard. Have now laid out which tasks need to be completed in each of the remaining days and I am driven to meet my deadlines.

Bless the upcoming days of rain - it will help me focus.  Hmmm, I think I am becoming a true Portlander.

Moving On

I have finally started on my To Do list. It has 42 items - some small (make an appointment for the cat), some huge (pack for California), some a bit odd (buy a deflated soccer ball for the school I am visiting in Zimbabwe), some quite unpleasant (get yellow fever shots), and some complicated (is it wise to change my specific health coverage plan before the upcoming due date?). To help the process along, I put the list on the refrig with a yellow marker nearby so I can cross off items as I complete them. This gives both satisfaction and keeps me going. As of this minute, 10 items are yellow - okay, okay, you're right, I did the easy ones. The cat has an appointment.

I continue, however, to find excuses to do other things. Last Saturday, for example, if I had been truly responsible, I would have come straight home from my library shift to work on the list but it didn't end up that way. Nope - and I couldn't help myself. The "attractive nuisance" that distracted me from doing the right thing was at the foot of the library steps. In fact, to avoid it was extremely difficult. Police and horses and children by the gazillions stood in my way. And anyway, who can say no to a parade? Especially the 100th running of the Portland Annual Rose Festival Parade? Come on, no one is that strong.

Actually, to be quite truthful, I am not a parade person. I find them long, tedious, and "been there, done that." In addition, I am spoiled in that Pacific Grove has 2 absolutely perfect parades (according to my skewed criteria). So perfect that I try hard not to miss either one - and this from a parade naysayer. The first is in September, The Butterfly Parade, that welcomes the monarch butterflies back to Pacific Grove. It is incredibly cute. Every child, from preschool through elementary, participates (there are only 2 small elementary schools so we are not talking a lot of kids). The children walk with their classes in costumes designed by their teachers. Well, the kindergarteners are always the butterflies and the 5th graders always wear Indian costumes their parents make for a social studies unit but the other grades vary from year to year although we usually see a lot of sea animals. The children are darling, the midde and high school bands add the necessary prance-along-with-the-kids music, the whole thing is over in less than an hour, the crowd is enthusiastic - a perfect parade.

It may be topped, however, by the annual Pet Parade in July. In this one, anyone with a pet is welcome to join in. It's short - once the people at the front hit the end of the second block the whole parade makes a U-turn and walks back to the starting point - 20 minutes max. There's no music, just the noise of the pets and the spectators cheering them on. And it's fun. Lots and lots of dogs but others make their appearance as well, many held in arms, some represented by stuffed animals. Costumes are popular - both for pets and owners. A favorite memory is the child who pulled a wagon with her fish bowl tucked carefully inside. This is home grown and very hard to beat.

So, now I am in Portland. This is not the REALLY big time but it is certainly bigger time. Not the Rose Parade in Pasadena but also not teeny Pacific Grove. And it was, surprisingly for me, lots and lots of fun. I first got an inkling of it when my bus was re-routed. I had no idea the parade's path took it right along the front of the library. It didn't reach us until almost 11:30 (we were near the end of the route) but participants had not lost their enthusiasm by the time they reached our vantage point. The horses still high stepped it, the floats floated (well, I was amused when the people behind one float helped push it when it hit the small rise in front of the library), the gorgeous roses still had life in them, the music was lusty - it was all as it should be.

Favorite memories?

An unusual Grand Marshall - yes, it was Pachy, the elephant born at the Oregon Zoo who turned 50 this year. Packy is one adored animal here in Portland. Naturally he couldn't make the walk so they had a replica.  The crowd cheered and cheered.

And, of course, if you have an elephant (even a replica) you need a pooper scooper to follow - this one is called PoopLandia with a drawing of the iconic Portlandia statue turned into Pachy.

This was my absolute favorite. In front of this group of flight attendants (who you can barely see - squint hard) was the Alaska Airlines float - beautiful - showing Alaskan animals, etc. but the crowd gave even stronger applause to the flight attendants who followed behind. They did wonderful marching routines with their apparatus - no, not batons, not flags, look really close - yep, carry-on bags.  It was hysterical. They marched, flipped those bags, circled, all in synchronization. The crowd roared its approval.

My sister, Mary, suggested that, next year, we volunteer in the wee hours of the morning to help finish up the floats. I suggested we join this group instead. It will take much more practice but these, by age, are my peeps. And look at them strut! I look better in silver than in gold so the trim on their outfits will match my coloring, I can learn the baton strut, etc.  . . . . Well, maybe that float idea is better.

I loved how enthusiastically the crowd got into the mood - including elephant ear toppers. This woman shared the library steps with me.

When I had reached my fill (about 90 minutes into the parade) I wandered down to my rescheduled bus but stopped at a deli to grab a sandwich.  Yep, parade spirit was there too.

Pachy was everywhere.

I did enjoy the humor of it all.  I love that Portland does NOT take itself seriously. The bus ride home was full of parade goers carrying sleepy children, folding chairs, and smiles.

Okay, now back to more serious stuff - 32 items on my list still to go.  I CAN do it - as long as parades and such don't get in my way.  Oh, the mind is willing but the flesh is so very weak.  

Procrastination

I am so very good at it. One of the most common reasons I do housework is to avoid a task I find even ickier - and that includes just about everything on my current To Do list. Anything - dishes, laundry, pulling weeds - all are better than dealing with that list. My house, unfortunately, is immaculate; the laundry is done; and Wesley and I worked on the garden yesterday so I am getting a bit desperate. Hmmm, it's time to write a blog entry. Yes, that's the ticket. Unfortunately, I purposely placed my To Do list on my desk, right behind my laptop - I can see the top of it in my peripheral vision - however I find that I am quite able to look straight ahead. I do not see it.

This is not a new phenomenon. In college I wrote most of my papers the day before each was due - just kept putting it off, putting it off. When teaching, I justified procrastinating long term lesson plans by saying, "I don't know how much they will actually absorb in each lesson; I need to remain flexible so I can do next what is best." Yea, right. And a good book can detour me from just about anything that needs be done.

The pesky To Do list is long - I leave in a few weeks for a trip to California and from there on to Africa. I know, not great planning. When initially thinking about my trips to France and Africa I didn't realize they would be so close to each other but I find that, when opportunities present themselves, it is best to just close your eyes and jump in. But, in this case, I face a mess of a packing job.  Let's see:

1.  A family wedding in the Bay Area (the 5th in the garden of my family home - including mine and my daughter's). Got to look nice.
2.  A week in Pacific Grove where it could be foggy and cold. Need to add cold weather stuff.
3.  A week camping at Yosemite - may be scorching hot and I have to prepare one dinner for about 40 people. This means significant camping gear.
4.  3 weeks in southern Africa where it will be winter. Staying at animal parks - so need to plan for a rugged lifestyle - but also spending a week in Cape Town where such clothing won't work. By the way, the most interesting notification (other than the need for yellow fever shots and malaria meds) was that some of the nations we will be visiting do not allow civilian use of camouflage. Drat, there goes my whole wardrobe plan!

How does one pack for such variety? At least I am driving to California which makes it easier.

The camping gear is the challenge.  I am not sure where it all is - at my cousin's house in Marin (I will be there before Yosemite so can look in her garage)? At my son's place in Oakland? At Goodwill? If it's in the attic of my home that is rented in Pacific Grove - well, that's pointless. Couldn't get to it even if I asked to be let in to look. As I remember, the small attic space is crammed with my stuff.

I think I will have to count on the kindness of family members who will be at Yosemite with me.

Thankfully family members up here in Portland will look after my house, my plants and my cat so I can leave with more ease. However, I will truly miss my time with my grandson, daughter and son-in-law. They will be at the wedding so I will get some time with them but it will be a while before I am back to my regular schedule.

Okay, so now I have whined about packing - is there ANYTHING else I can do to avoid the list that I can still see in my peripheral vision? Shouldn't I be a bit more mature and face facts? It won't go away and the longer I put it off the worse it will be as I try to jam all the remaining tasks into the days before departure.

Hmm, I think my cat needs brushing.