How do you put a title on emotion?

So how do you close one year and welcome another?  How is it that the memories begin to fade as quickly as they are etched.  As I stand on the rim of  2014, hands flared at the hips, face embracing the horizon.  The horizon that holds the memories of 2014.  Memories not yet created.  Life unheld. 

Theme for 2014?  Absorption.  To absorb what God intends me to be.  Like the sunrise of a dewy morning touching every blade of grass.  Drying it out, yet retaining the moisture to hold form, to keep the scaffolding in place in the inner being of my life.  God gives us so much.  We squander. 

Theme.  2014.  Laying down.  Taking off.  Laying at the alter the things that distract, take from and steal joy.  Remembrance.  Wrapping arms around the sweetness of the memories of yesteryear and being thankful for all the gifts.  Gifts that will be unwrapped when Heaven arrives.  Unwrapped, revealing the true meaning of love, hope, joy. 

Theme.  Thankfulness.  Believing.  Knowing that prayer holds everything when offered with great Faith.  Becoming the prayer.  Feeling the pulse of communion within the outline of flesh.  Breathe.  Breathing the very grace that is given.  Giving the same grace.  Grace that knows no bounds. 

2014.  Giving.  To give up.  To place at the feet of Jesus.

Never Forgotten

So representative of what we had.  At the age of six, it was a Christmas present to his mama.  So carefully selected to show his feelings and share them.  Always cherished.  Never forgotten.  I can see our faces and hear our voices of those tender moments so precious. 

As the song sings in the background "it's a wonderful time of the year"-- I can still agree.   The wonderfulness is an inner remembrance of the time spent with family during this special holiday season.  Whether it is a ten year old memory or as recent as last weekend.  As soon as something happens and it passes, it is a memory.  A memory not to be worried about or mulled over but a piece of what makes us who we are today.  It is a spark to ignite our future and provide hope.

The subject of vacation came up this week with a parent of one of our students.  A little disgruntled about my lengthy vacation during this season, she said over her shoulder "yeah, I get a whole two days off".  Poor lady.  I couldn't help but wonder if she would amass her whole family around for those two days.  I sure hope so. So, yes, I'm so fortunate to have vacation during the holidays.  And yes, I'm so fortunate to have so much family that the celebratory festivities are spread throughout many days.  What I miss is evident.

A friend and I shared some time together this past week.  Sick.  She has had the cold/flu for many days.  It's hard to get up for the holidays when a sinus headache overtakes your energy.  Such a dear lady.  She always tells me she's "elderly".  I hardly think so but I laugh all the same.  Our visit was deep and the tears numerous.  We spoke of loss and heartache and how holiday memories are not always poinsettias and beautiful wrapping paper.  We spoke of letting go and loss that surfaces often.  It was a cluster of minutes, making up a larger period of time and life stood still. That's what sorrow does to people.  Slows life down, calendars do not matter, time has no relevance.  So we ended our visit with a prayer and a never failing hope.  Hope, birthed so many years ago in a manger.

Tradition X2

It's the season of tradition.  Traditions make people feel secure.  "What do you do for Christmas?" Over the years I've been asked this question many times.  The answer.  Always made me take a deep breath before the many events came rolling off my tongue.  Ya know.  Granny's house for Christmas Eve.  But before that we have a light dinner and gift opening at Grandma and Papa's.  Christmas morning at our house, followed by afternoon Christmas dinner at Grandma and Grandad's.  Whew.  Is that it?  So some years ago I insisted we start our very own, Momma made the best prime rib dinner ever dinner tradition so my chilins' could remember the sweet Christmas aroma in our own home.

The last two years have been a mixture of tradition and new experiences for this jolly season.   Last Christmas, while in a grieving fog,  my "fine figure of a man" and I set out for my first international experience to visit our son in England.  Christmas Day was celebrated on the White Cliffs of Dover.  It was a rainy, blustery day.  One we will never forget.

This year Trevor was stationed in Tucson, Arizona, so we headed south.  After 20 hours of hard core driving by my “fine figure of a man” and myself, we arrived in Tucson, Arizona, for Christmas.  We spent the night with my sister and boys in Orange County the first night and enjoyed family time with the Birminghams. 

 

Christmas Eve 2013.  We had a few errands to run before starting our prime rib dinner.  Trevor and dad took off for the inner grid of the city streets with me, "Mrs. Garmin", following closely behind in the other white Camry.  We were looking for a specific store so I could purchase my “fine figure of a man” a present he has always wanted but has never gotten.  I immediately found a radio station and blared the Christmas music with my window down.  I left the two holiday shoppers at an undisclosed location (I say undisclosed because I haven’t a clue where it was) and set out with Mr. Garmin as my trusty assistant. 

I arrived at the Boot Barn uneventfully.  The sales lady was helpful and efficient.  Selecting line #2 of two was an easy decision.  That’s when it fell apart.  The line didn’t seem to be moving and was getting longer on both registers.  Everyone was getting a little antsy, doing the foot shift while trying to maintain their last minute Christmas attitude.  The computers went down and the poor sales people were scrambling.  So, after quite a bit of time, I left the store with present in hand.

Returning to the East grid to find my guys, seemed smooth as well.  Garmin and I.  “In 3.2 miles, turn left on Palo Vedre” he sang as we went from stop light to st  After turning right on E. Broadway, I felt pretty smug about driving in Tucson.  That was obviously a problem, being smug.  I was headed to “Jason’s Deli” to enjoy a Christmas Eve lunch with the guys.  That was a problem.  I couldn’t find my final destination.  After a couple of phone calls and a melt down, I finally saw my guys.  Standing on E. Broadway like a couple of concerned citizens.  Turns out that my friend Garmin didn't know what side of the road I needed to be on.  Needless to say, it was an adventure.  Sure hope my “fine figure of a man” likes his present.

 

 

 

Our traditional prime rib dinner X2 (because we celebrated with Tanner and Michelle in Bend a couple of weekends ago with the same prime rib dinner) went off without a hitch.  The nice family Trevor invited to share with us was delightful and fun.  Their 3 year old son Levi even asked if I could go home with them.  Warmed my heart and I darn near abandoned Grant and Trevor for this sweet guy. 

 

Merry Christmas friends!  May the love of Jesus Christ prove to be the greatest gift of all this holiday season!

 

 

 

 

 

Just a Day?

A day.  It seems that a day would be no big deal.  A day that adds to a day that adds to a day.  A bereaved parent from the Sandy Hook School incident a year ago, this past weekend, said it best.  Every day that goes by is one day further from the life of the loved one so dearly missed.  There is a feeling that only can be breathed out of the inner depths of your being when the feeling of loss is accelerated by a tail light or a movement.  When just being in a room heavy with feeling and the mere mention of "is that what you did with your boys?" can rapidly rise memory of great magnitude.  When you go home smelling like the essence of little ones you so lovingly held.  And a smile that can outwardly radiate after the leg hug you receive from someone a quarter of your height with the ability to melt your heart  in barely audible tones of "I love you".  So I'm here to say that a day is never just a day when you put it into terms of love and loss.  A day is never a day when there are friendships to be nurtured and love to be given.  A day is never a day to be taken for granted.  Love deeply.

The tears of a young man who so desperately wanted life to be different.  That's what I was presented with today.  I told him he was valuable.  I told him he was important.  I'd pray.  That's what I said.  Even if you don't believe.  I do and I will.  I will pray.  He nodded.  Not because he believed but because he knew I was serious and he knew that my faith was a keeper.  A keeper of my heart.  Without knowing why, he wanted that too. 

Today was taco 17th.  Comes around every month.  Rapidly.  Tonight tacos were shared with people who knew our boy and knew of his kindness and goodness.  Knew that he is missed, deeply.  Small group they call it.  Small group, big feelings.  Thank you for caring and sharing.

You the Best

Fortunate.  I have been so fortunate in my life to have such wonderful parents.  Loving, God fearing, call in a crisis parents.  On the night of the biggest crisis of my life, I called.  They came.  Because they love. 

Today my dad turned 81.  So we had soup, biscuits and watched the 49er game with friends.  It was a cold day with ice cycles hanging from the eves and the snow crusting on the top layer while we sat in a balmy living room.  Dad has always had the ability to "slump the sheetrock" while burning a "pinocle stick".  You'd have to go far and wide to find a man who has enjoyed the outdoor activity of cutting wood any greater than my dad.  Therapy.  That's what I used to call it. 

When I was in high school I was fortunate to have a job as dad's assistant.  I "packed rod" for him, ran numbers and I'm pretty sure I made his sandwiches in the morning before we left for work.  I found out that summer that mustard isn't something he enjoyed or even liked.  There's not a whole lot my dad doesn't like and we all cringed when we had chicken legs because he would always tell us to "clean that up".  "But dad" we'd argue "that's grissle".  Always fell to deaf ears. 

Dad has had many jobs and careers in his lifetime.  Sheep herder, wood cutter, hay cutter, baler, hauler, milker, cow raiser, Federal Government, self employed courier to name a few.  We all think that Papa should slow down, sit in his easy chair more often but he seems to have other ideas. 

Some of the things my boys learned from their Papa are:

• shut the door quickly
• don't smack your food 
• loud noises must be muffled quickly, followed by a "sorry" and slight cringe
• wear light weight clothing when visiting in the winter time
• Papa burps very loudly when drinking RC cola
• he'll teach you  how to build a fence, start a fire or stack wood if you are interested
• he loves the SF Giants and 49ers and prays for them
• he loves Jesus
• he's one of the busiest guys you'll ever meet
• most of the time the hanky in his back pocket is clean

For all his good qualities there are many more to follow.  Happy Birthday Papa!  You the best!

First Snow

Saturday morning.  Awoken to Sawyer's Cow and all her impatience.  Feeding time. 

Wood on the fire.  Turn on the coffee.  Boots, coat on.

Head to the snowy, cold, crispy December morning air.

 

 

The sun peered through the snow clouds in the fresh morning air. 

The fluffy fallen snow of yesterday blanketed the ground and everything it fell on.  

The first snow of the season. 

Covered.   

Sawyer's Cow, as winter progresses, becomes a friend. 

During the summer, she's pretty sure we are not to be trusted. 
Inbred intuition that you don't bite the hand that feeds you takes over when the
 days shorten and cold settles.

Morning.  Just the beginning. 

 

It was a good day to be outside, if you like snow.

After a day filled with chores and the night chill had settled, we were beckoned outside.  Neighbor kids.  Playful.  So you want to rumble?  Rumble?  What's rumble?  Even though they didn't know the meaning, we rumbled.  The snow being so dry and soft, unable to pack a snowball.  So they brought shovels.  Everyone got a shovel and the snow was easy to toss and fling.  They just didn't factor in that I would insist on the widest, lightest shovel.  Turned out it wasn't much of a fight.  But it was fun.  I told them it was a good day for the Scott Valley Stomp.  Ya know.  Stomp your feet before going into the house to rid them of as much snow as possible.  Hence, the Scott Valley Stomp.

Gym Memories~

Winter seems to really be here.  The bitter cold day chilled to the bone as I "walked the hill" with only one walking partner today.  The flu has settled in co-workers and given them a few extra days off after the long Thanksgiving Vacation. 

It's nights like these that always make us so grateful to have the warmth of the wood stove.  With December well on it's way there are lots of thoughts of the upcoming holidays and things associated with the months that lie ahead.  Basketball started this week in the area schools.  Today when I picked up the newspaper I was automatically drawn to the sports page because I just had to know how our team did last night.

Win.  Sweet.  Always love an Etna win.  Sad?  Sure.  Wish things were different.  Yep.  Are they?  No.  It's a bit of a struggle.

The gymnasium of the high school my "fine figure of a man" and I both graduated from and all three of our boys attended, holds many memories.  Daddy sweated out many basketball games in this gym. Tanner spoke of the leader board and how his name is there for throwing a No Hitter.  Yep.  And Trevor's picture is on the gym wall with his senior year team; they won the league that year.  And my name is on a banner for being a member of a the Hall of Fame team that won the N.S.C.I.F. Small Schools Championships in basketball.  Pretty memorable place.

And.....Sawyer's jersey, retired, hangs on same walls of many celebrated for their successes.

 

A memory came to mind today.  One day when Sawyer was at basketball practice with his dad, the coach, a man by the name of Tom Webster asked him what he would do if he weren't as tall as his brothers and didn't have the height to play down low and dominate the key.  Sawyer, basketball in hand, took a couple of dribbles backwards, did the best jump shot he could do at such a young age and said "I'll be a point guard".  Pretty sure Tom had no doubt that would happen and when it did that Sawyer would bring his "A" game.

Although difficult, I wouldn't trade any of these memories for another. 

Crisp Morning

Early in the morning, the recently hung Christmas lights illuminated the front of the apartment.  As dawn broke the skies, the red sunrise was beautiful and brought promise that rainy weather may be near.  Red sky in morning..... says that in the Bible too.  Storm in the horizon.  Be ready. 

Weekend fun with it's toll evident by the sleepiness of this bunch.  The crisp, cold air of this 1st day of December beckoned me.  So I started the coffee and headed out to feed Sawyer's Cow (yep, that's her name).  The milking crew from next door greeted me through the open barn window.  Just a little friendly chat.  "Come see our Christmas decorations!"  Inside the barn they had looped the white twine from the bales of hay and hung them along the low beams, simulating a string of Christmas lights.  Pretty proud of their ingenuity they were.  Certainly made me smile~

After feeding the cow and calf, I headed back in the house to grab a cup of coffee.  Devotionals on the front porch with the Lord on this chilly morning and a steamy cup of coffee.  Doesn't get much better than that.  As I sat in my little rocking chair, I could hear the two girls in the barn wrapping up their morning chores.  The sounds of their sweet voices always sing to my heart.

Grabbing a second cup of coffee, I headed for a stroll to further fill my need for the fresh, cold air against my face.  Approaching the pond, 10 geese went instantly in flight at my nearness. The fog had settled low in the valley with the mountain tops visible above.  The earlier crispy white ground, turning to beads of wetness as day further dawned.  As I walked through the field with the puppies in tow, Sawyer's Cow finished her fine alfalfa meal.  She's always been a bit skittish, wary of strangers, even when they are not strangers.  Head up, calf in view.  Such a good little momma, always protecting her calf with such instincts.

Upon return to our little home, the coffee was in mid consumption.  Breakfast?  Not yet.  How about yet another game of pinocle?  Well sure.  Girls win.  Seems to be how it went this weekend.  Michelle can go home with that peaceful, winning feeling. 

It's been a wonderful Thanksgiving, long, weekend.  Thanks for coming!  Drive safe.  We love you so much!!

Night Out

Holidays are double edged.  The sweet, sweet Thanksgiving of a God who loves us deeply, family with hearts that show no love limits and enjoyable activities.  Yesterday was a day for remembrance.  Although we sent dad off in the wee morning hours to bring home the bacon, he surprised us by coming home early.  While he was out earning a paycheck those of us who were enjoying the comforts of our jammies at home were Black Friday shopping on-line.  But we had plans.  Plans to spend the after dark hours in a city nestled on the other side of the Siskiyous.  The greeting in Ashland was different than we expected.  We were met with one lane roads, closed city streets and no visible parking.  Undeterred, we pulled into the public parking lot and wow....we got a great spot. 

Although we missed the holiday parade, the excitement in the air drew us to main street.  Flashbacks.  That's what this lady had.  Flashbacks of New Years 2013 in London, England with streets so packed breathing your own air was not an option.  But Tanner and Michelle waved us on.  Again, undeterred we headed north.  The man on the stage was belting out Christmas carols to the congregated crowd.  The nip in the air was an added benefit to the holiday feel and only made us move a little quicker for the warmth of the restaurant we intended to show patronage. 

The decision of the choice of restaurants was claimed by me.  Asian.  My mom and I had eaten at this little Asian place by Lithia Park some time ago and I was anxious to go back but my "fine figure of a man" was always a little unsure.  So I persisted and everyone was glad I did.  The hot meals were a bit spicy in nature and were so yummy.  Leaving with satisfied tummies, we headed again to main street to take in the beautiful lights of the city and our favorite store, Paddington Station.  Browsing is always fun when there is so much to view. 

We ended our holiday night out with coffee at Dutch Bros.  Ya.  The coffee was good but the barista was the highlight.  She was all flustered when asked about powder vs. premixed.  I never really got my answer but her reaction was priceless.  With coffee in hand, we headed back over the Siskiyous in search of Forest Mountain. 

Mugginsville greeted us with the shining Cross that beckons passer byers with enough light to help them see their way.  The crispy new Pinocle deck called us and we obliged.  After winners celebrated with strange dance moves, we all thought it might be best to hit the hay.   Such a delightful day.  That's the double edge.  So loving our family and so missing our family.

Tradition

The football, strategically placed next to the "E" hat made me smile.  The extra place at the Thanksgiving Dinner table was met with unexplainable exasperation by Grandad made me smile.  My middle boy calling at 7:30 a.m. to extend a Happy Thanksgiving from Arizona made me smile.  My oldest son insisting I go for a run with him made me smile. My daughter-in-law always makes me smile. 

The day pretty much made me smile. 

Thanks. 

Giving. 

 

The Thanksgiving cactus was in full bloom, signifying the beginning of the holiday season. 

 

 

The table was set in full holiday dress.  Waiting patiently for the surrounding of family to give thanks, fill and enjoy the meal so delicately prepared by an amazing woman with 50 years of Thanksgiving Dinner experience. 

 

 

Many hands, light work. 

Well, not really that light. 

A thankful dinner of this magnitude is never light work. 

 

 

The new generation beginning. 

 

 

As this Thanksgiving Day comes to an end, we can all rest assured that the reason for the season is Jesus.  So in celebration of Calvary, we hung a large cross on the front of the barn to light our way through this highly celebrated, somewhat a skewed worldly view of this amazing time of year.

 

Thankfulness

It's the kind of feeling that comes from the depths of your being.  The feeling that His strength is the scaffolding that keeps you from all collapse.  It's knowing that true Thanksgiving only comes from Him and when you utter your Thankfulness to Jesus in broken prayers, you know they are heard.  There's always memories.  There's always the knowledge that the journey is not over.  The Thanksgiving that future isn't just a word.

 

Yesterday was a day unlike most.  Most days I do not take off for an adventure of my own.  Most days I would have one or two as co-pilots.  But not yesterday.  Solo flight.  Over the years there were a few days like that but the need for my own time became less and less.  

 

There are many places in the "State of Jefferson" and Southern Oregon that hold memories of short travels with my "fine figure of a man" and/or the boys we raised. 

 

Oil change.  Just these two words brought a smile to the face of my youngest.  He knew that with an oil change came a free car wash and the chance to vacuum and clean the interior.  I don't have the slightest idea why Sawyer and I loved to go to a "city" car wash but we did and the memories are forever etched in my heart.

 

Two years ago today, my Facebook entry was:

 

"Sawyer and I just completed two pumpkin pies,

two sour cream lemon pies and a pumpkin cake. "

 

I remember that day so well. 

We had such fun. 

His brothers made comments like "save us some" and "jealous". 

 

There's such a thankfulness in my heart that even with tragedy, my love for cooking is still with me.  Maybe it is a way of soothing my soul and living within the memories so lovingly built.  Maybe it is an effort to make things seem "normal".

 

Last night I made cinnamon rolls for a milestone birthday of a friend of a friend.  The same sweet recipe with the same yummy results as made for my family for so many years.  Thanksgiving for the desire to bless others.   

 

As I anticipate the arrival of boy #1 and daughter-in-law, busy hands fill the soul in readiness to soak in the family I so cherish.  Of course Boy #2 is sorely missed this holiday season as he spends Thanksgiving with a family he has never met but so graciously opened their home to one of America's finest.   

 

There are moments when it seems as though nothing has changed but yet drastic change is felt within every fiber of my body.   The empty spot within my heart, when I think about sitting down to Thanksgiving Dinner with the family who so cherish Sawyer and what he meant in their lives, warms at the mere remembrance of his smile and twinkle.

 

One thing I know for sure, he knew that his parents were thankful for their family.  He certainly got that right.  We miss you!

To Be Thankful

Thankfulness.  The cold, dampness of early evening greeted these working people at the close of the day.  The week after returning from Maui has been both eventful and a time for rest.  So thankful that the hot water heater that went defunct during our absence didn't ruin the walls and create havoc of immeasurable damage.  Inconvenience.  Living without hot water for a few days seemed so inconsequential.   As I stood at the sink one evening, washing my hands in cold water I wondered how many people in the world live without the benefit of cold, clean water coming from a tap in a  kitchen with a window and a floor.  How many must haul water in some sort of bucket or container from a water source a distance from their living quarters they call home.  So as a layer of thankfulness covers my heart like water in between the cement slab and the flooring, I choose happy and know that I am blessed.

 

After a long four days at work, my "fine figure of a man" and I sought the comfort of our little place for much needed rest.  Ya know.  Rest after vacation is always needed.  It was a slow, comfortable weekend of warm fires, cold north sides and chores that could be handled in increments of manageable time.  One highlight of the weekend was a two year old birthday party for a little one so dear to my heart.  Havilah was born during the week of Thanksgiving 2011.  I recall holding this little one just two years ago and thinking that she was as precious as can be.  Excitement for this little life was held by my dear boy as he considered himself an uncle and grinned from ear to ear about her little fingers and toes.  So we watch her grow and pray sweet prayers for her life in Christ.  Happy Birthday Havilah.

 

Church on Sunday is always something I look forward to.  Conner wanted to go with us.  Even better.  Such a time for reflecting, filling and tears if need be.  The afternoon was special time with a boy in the house.  Helping hands.  That's what he had.  Conner scooped the cookie dough made from the previous day.  "Sometimes a momma's just gotta make cookies" is what this momma told him.  He was glad.  The cookies almost went untouched by him because the dough had filled his sweet tooth.

 

After lunch, the project was the peak of the roof of the Granary.  It was a project my "fine figure of a man" has been looking to complete to keep the weather out.  It was a job well done and we're on our way to completing #5 on our "To Do List".

 

 

 

 

 

So I'm pretty sure that Thanksgiving Day is a time for being thankful but this special day doesn't have to limit the thankfulness each day holds. 

Vacation Surprise

Unexpected surprises.  Ours came yesterday in the form of family.  Family on vacation under the same sunny, partially cloudy skies.  Enjoying the same lapping waves along the same shoreline.  How about coffee?  Do you know a good coffee shop?  Well yes, as a matter of fact.  Let's meet.  Coffee with friends and family is always good.  The park across the street came in handy as the girls hit the swings and played in the breeze of the sunny island day. 

We had planned to spend the day at a beach and so did they.  So we went together to a close by beach to have some local Maui fun.  There is never a bad day at a beach when kiddos are involved.  Grace and Alanna were a fun addition to our November vacation.  And yes, Ryan and Laurinda were fun too.

The snorkeling was decent and Alanna announced that she found a big turtle for her and her mom to look at.  By 4 o'clock the sun was showing the daily wear and tear and the beach began to empty.  The girls were barely wore down but I'm thinking dinner began to be on their minds.  Grace went out on the boogie board for one last pass and Alanna decided we should write in the sand.  Her message said "I love you" and I added the heart.  Picture op for sure.

 

A catamaran found it's way into our little cove, looking large and stealth like.  So quiet and smooth in the ocean waters.  What a way to go.

 

So here's to big smiles and a sunny day at the beach with precious relatives. 

 

Aloha~

TME

It wasn't the day we expected him to be born.  But the doctor said I needed to have this baby soon.  Most women don't get upset when their baby comes early.  So we headed to the hospital to be induced.  Eight hours later they sent me home.  Get some rest, we'll try again tomorrow.  Now that should have alarmed me.  So the next day we arrived back at the hospital bright and early.  Well, not very bright but it was early.  Leanne Brown was waiting at the nurse's desk.  We knew each other but we weren't really "friends".  We have laughed about this morning many times since then.  Grouchy.  That's what this very pregnant woman was. 

Trevor was born at 5:15 p.m.  Eight more hours of Pitocin.  Whew.  When it finally kicked in it was fast and furious.  The next day we were supposed to go home.  Daddy and Tanner came to pick us up but Trevor was jaundiced and had to stay at the hospital. 

I remember the challenges of having a toddler and a nocturnal baby.  Sort of.  Mostly I remember the little boy who seemed shy, preferred the leg of this momma to other outgoing children.  I remember how he had no intention of walking, I thought forever.  I remember the night he decided he could only walk if he could dance and dance he did.  I remember that he started riding a two-wheeler bike at the age of 3 and didn't know 1st gear.  I remember when our neighbor brought him home in his arms from his tooth altering bike wreck.  I remember how he loved to sing in the school performances in grammar school.  I remember how he could play the trumpet.  I remember his determination to harvest a coconut while in the Hawaiian Islands.  I remember what he looked like when he graduated from basic training.

I remember.....so, so much.  Today Trevor turned 24.  It happened quickly and today he is larger life.  Although he stands 6'5" and is as handsome as can be, he still gives an amazing hug and always makes this momma feel special.

Happy Birthday Trevor!  We love you~   <3

Big Waves Rock On

 

The week of the big waves on Maui continues.  Record waves have cut down on snorkeling time and minimized beach time as well.  On our morning walk we had a fun thing happen.  Along the way, a little Egret made friends with us.  Dubbed "Charlie", this little guy poked along with us, grazing on lizards.  He would go up to a bush, cock his head to one side and then another.  Quick.  He was so quick when he spotted a tasty little morsel.  Quick to nab his breakfast meat.  Quick to show us his catch before quickly devouring something that would seem to be so much quicker than a long necked bird.  There's only a few things that slow down the Birch's when on a quest to train for a triathlon, well maybe just one....cuteness.  So thanks to Charlie for allowing us to catch up with our friends and catch our breath.

After our morning walk, triple mocha, a yummy breakfast by Suzie, and a quick apartment cleaning, we decided that south Maui was calling.  It was a good decision.  We found a beautiful beach.  The sun was hot and the water perfect.  The waves were a bit rowdy but we got a few frolics in before relaxing in the sun. 

Eventually our hunger won out and we headed for town to find a lunch place.  Grant had said he wanted to eat at Panda Express for lunch.  Low and behold, we actually found one.  Lunch was good and we headed north. 

After almost getting thrown out of a t-shirt store by the giggles and laughing of this small crowd, we arrived back to our home area.  Good day.  And as Suzie explained "Grant and Bill are now friends".

Aloha~

 

 

To Spin a Yarn

Adventures come in all genres.  Yesterday it was the quest for the yarn shop.  The address, Suzie said was "2223 Puokei Road".  Armed with an I-phone, the rental car keys and a small crowd of 3 who had accepted this mission, we set out to find Suzie some yarn because the hands must always be busy.  Our crowd would have been larger but Mr. Bill decided that he would sit this one out.  So he did.  We headed south to the Lahaina area.  Right on Puokei Road, left?  We weren't so sure.  Let's look in the next mall area.  After a couple of tries, we called the number from the Yelp help.  Oh yes, we are next to the Barnes and Noble.  That's great because we are right next to it.  "I'm standing outside by a couple of mannequins".  There it is!  It had begun to rain but in Hawaii it's no problem since wet doesn't mean cold.  We felt excited to have completed our quest with such success.  However....it was not a yarn shop but a mercantile.  How could this be?  The lady thought perhaps the yarn shop had gone out of business and they had been assigned the old yarn shop number.  Dejected.  We headed home empty handed. 

After a couple of hours we arrived back at the apartment with not much of an explanation as to why we had been gone so long and returned empty handed.  "Binky's"  Suzie said after continuing to look at her phone.  Binky's carries yarn and they are close.  So we set out once again.  We turned left, returned right and back again.  "Turn into this parking lot" I was instructed.  Oh great!  Small parking lot.  Gonna be fun to get out of.  Suzie went upstairs to a little shop.  "Yarn?" the shopkeeper asked.  "Hawaii a little hot for yarn" was pretty much all she had to say.  We all laughed at that one.  True.  Wool hats might not be in high demand in the Islands.  Still not deterred, we were determined.  Off we went.  "Let's try this little mall" was a suggestion.  Wait.  Grant was on the lookout. "There it is".  Yep.  There it was.  Binky's.  Right, almost directly across, from our apartment.  Walking distance.  No need for a rental car, an I-phone or the $4.27 per gallon gasoline. 

The yarn was 100% wool, hand dyed and very beautiful.  We all felt resolve.  The resolve of the quest that created laughter and an adventure we're not likely to forget.

Aloha!

Just Another Day in Paradise!

The music of Jack Johnson fills the apartment tonight.  Von said "must listen to while on the islands".  So we listened to Jack while eating chicken tacos with a fresh island avocado.  Delicious.  We all agreed.

Today the waves here in West Maui were record high.  When we went out this morning for our walk we noticed a lot of locals running around with their surf boards in the back of their vehicles.  Checking out the sites and networking with other locals.  The lady at the coffee shop suggested we go to a favorite viewing point to watch the locals take on the huge waves. 

 

 

 

But these fun seekers didn't stop there.  Back of the road, we headed north with the intention of stopping when the view demanded our attention.   And demand it did.  The road wound around and down the side of the mountain.  Into a jungle of dense umbrella trees in an S turn where the locals live.  Coming out of the turn the view called.  We stopped.  The waves were beating against the rocks, giving these tourists what they wanted to see.  The directions from the tourist book was "just passed the 38 mile marker" is the Blowhole.  We walked down the hill toward this classic site.  As the large waves racked the rocks and pummeled the shore, the Blowhole shot up as if to say hello and to show it's splendor.

 

 

But the adventure had just begun.  The road around the top of the island is a one-way, narrow, hang off the rocks of the side of the mountain.  Oh yeah.  You might want to honk when going around curves.  The string of cars we met on a narrow crevice called a road was Salmon River like.   Bill, being a seasoned Siskiyou County driver, was focused and undeterred by this potentially intimidating situation.

 

Suzie always asks what the highlight of our day was.  Today we all agreed that the fresh, cold pineapple sold to us at the road construction site of a little village by a local was probably the highlight.  Although, finding the 3 waterfalls on the furthest north end of the island, just past the angus ranch was a highlight.  Or the one lone white horse standing on the edge of the hillside was pretty cool too.  I'm thinking a day can contain a lot of highlights when looking for them.

 

 

 

We finished our tour with a walk through Lahaina.  Although a bit touristy, it is worth the walk to get the feel of a small island town.  The Banyan Tree is a must see.   Although not native to the islands, amazing tree was planted on Maui on April 24, 1873.  So I guess it is considered a local.

 

Aloha~

 

 

 



Tuesday, November 12, 2013