The View From My Chair

I'm sitting under a blue striped umbrella on pink sand. It's breathtakingly beautiful here.

Three little French boys are playing golf on the beach with giant plastic golf clubs.

A pair of British brothers are standing nearby flexing their muscles. They have been standing in the same spot for over 2 1/2 hours. (I'm not kidding.) Claire and I keep wondering when they are going to sit down. We keep willing them with our minds, but it's not working. Their parents are both sitting down . . .why aren't they? No, wait .... the very tall, thin dad just got up from his chair. He's wearing a Speedo and looks like he's been slow roasted on a rotisserie for about a week. He's definitely over-cooked. Now he's standing with his sons. He looks a little out of place -- he doesn't have any muscles, just crispy skin.

A large group of UK teenagers are playing football behind me. One of the boys is mad because the group is playing football instead of soccer. At least it seems that way because he mockingly tried to imitate an American accent when he said "They want to play Eh-MEhR-ik-an football." I found it quite funny. Do we really sound like that???

I'm getting really hot sitting here in the bright sun and muggy air, so I walk down to the water. It's so clear I can see my coral toenails smiling up at me through the azure blue surf. The water is warm -- but cool enough to be refreshing. I wade out up to my neck and bounce along with the surge of the waves. I hear so many conversations around me - German, Swedish, French, Italian, but I can't understand any of them. I wonder what all these people are saying? I'm guessing they they are talking about what they will eat for dinner tonight on their cruise ship.

I look around for Matt and then remember he's off snorkeling around the big rocks. I wish I had remembered to bring my mask too.

Eden and Claire join me. They look so cute making their way through the water crowd. They are laughing and whispering together as they bob in my direction. I hear Eden say under his breath "Beach Mom .... ha ha ha" which means they are making fun of me. "Beach Mom" is their code for "mom looks dumb with wet hair and no makeup."

"You guys are rude!" I say as they finally swim up and grab me around the neck. That makes them laugh even harder.



Then I say "Eden, have you looked in a mirror lately? You should see yourself in that snorkel mask. It's left a huge imprint on your face!" Eden continues laughing and splashes water in my face. It tastes really salty. Way saltier than the Pacific Ocean. Believe me, I'm an expert on the taste of Pacific. I swallowed gallons once when I almost drowned 2 feet from shore. (Remind me to tell you that story sometime, it's very entertaining.)

The salt water stings my eyes. It takes a minute before I can make my way back to the beach. When I finally sit back down in my chair, I look around and see that the little French boys have finished their golf game and are eating lunch with their grandparents. The UK teens are laying on towels drinking beer and listening to music. And the two British brothers . . . are still standing there! When are they going to move????

It's nice to have moments when there's nothing more to worry about than why two boys have been standing for hours on end.

Maybe I should offer them some money so they will take a walk to the snack bar and buy a snow cone . . .

Even better, I think I'll take a walk myself. I need to use the loo.

Beautiful Boy

While we were flying over the ocean on our way to Bermuda, Eden turned 13. It wasn't much of a birthday celebration, although I tried. I asked the flight attendant if she would give Eden a birthday shout-out after the "in-flight instructions." She glared at me which I took as a "NO!"

We celebrated with a pack of peanuts and Eden smiled as he looked out the window of the plane. Traveling is one of the things Eden loves most, so I guess it was a good birthday after all, even if it didn't involve cake and a present.


The next day, we all sat waiting for a boat to take us across the bay. I stared at Eden thinking about how fast time flies. It seems like just yesterday that he was sitting out in front of our house in plastic car pushing it around with his feet yelling "Yook at dat Mom!"

I wondered then what kind of person Eden would be as he grew up. I knew that he would be kind and friendly -- he came that way. But, I never would have guessed that he would be so unique, and dream of living in faraway lands like Iceland or Singapore. He'd move now if we let him. He's even tried to talk me into letting him be a foreign exchange student. Truth be told, if we let him go tomorrow, I know he would be just fine because he loves people, and adventures. But his dream will have to wait, because I'd miss him too much to let him go. I am savoring these days -- there's not much time left before he leaves home for good.

I am one lucky woman to be the mother of Eden. He is a wonderful son.

I love him more than he will ever know.

O'er the Ramparts We Watch

One of the charming things about Bermuda -- old things. They are everywhere and they speak to me.



Rusted, mossy walls that blush because the stones were made with with pink beach sand.



Worn British telephone booths with red chipped paint. I wish I could take this one home with me. It would look oh so perfect in my house (if I had a place to put it.)



Old rowboats, long forgotten in an abandoned boat house. Oh these colors ..... I love them, don't you?



Antique canons stationed on a rampart built in the early 1600's.



That's right, a rampart! I stood on this one today and looked out over the ocean. I imagined a pirate ship sailing on the horizon with a skull and cross bone flag blowing in the warm wind. I think Johnny Depp was at the helm. Sigh.



I have a confession (and it's not about a pirate). Until I visited this fort, I didn't even know what a "rampart" was. Do you? Cuz if you do, I'm going to feel pretty dumb if you understood that line from the Star Spangle Banner all this time, and I didn't ...

until now that is.

I Made It.

Yesterday, I boarded a plane at 11:00 p.m. with strep throat and an ear ache. A few hours later, I was laying face down in the Delta Lounge of the Atlanta Airport trying to make a bed out of carpet and a backpack. I got stares from businessmen with computers on their laps. My kids made fun of me too, but I didn't care. I just wanted to get some sleep and survive the ride to Bermuda.

I did. And somewhere in the early hours, my medicine kicked in.

I took a ride on the left hand side of the road through the winding narrow streets and arrived at a beautiful resort on the edge of a bay. I took more medicine and went to bed.

This morning, I woke up at 4:00 a.m. and sat outside on a balcony, watching the lights of Hamilton Parish twinkle in the dark. I stayed until the sky changed from night to day. It was so beautiful watching a sleeping town wake.

The best parts of my Sunday: Catching up with Clarence, Matt's best friend, who I haven't seen in over 12 years.

Getting a high-five from an 80 year old Bermuda women at church. She said "Good afternoon. I liked your talk ..... HIGH FIVE!" Then she slapped my hand.

Hunting for sea glass that covered a secret beach which my new friend Gwen was kind enough to share. (I promised I wouldn't divulge the location, and I won't, except to say that it is guarded by a magic snake.)




The clouds -- especially when the sun went down over brilliant turquoise water.

Good News, Bad News

Good News: Claire began phase one of getting her braces off today. I don't need to tell you that this date has been circled in red on our calendar for a long, long time. She actually got up early she was so excited. That never happens during the summer.

Bad News: When I got into the car to take Claire to the orthodontist, I put my key in the ignition. No sound of the engine starting up -- just click, click, click. We tried and tried, but nothing happened. Claire was madder than a hornet. She ran into the house crying. As she ran she yelled

"You are the most unlucky person MOMMMMMMM!!!! Stuff like this always happens when you are around!!!"

Bad News: I really didn't feel like helping my daughter after that .... but I did, and this is why: I remember all too clearly how I behaved when I was 15. I definitely would have yelled at my mother had our car broken down the day I got my braces off. (If she were still alive, my mom would be smiling right about now. She warned me that some day, what goes round, comes around. Curses! She was right.)

Good News: I forgave Claire and called a cab. I know I have a million friends who would have come to my aid, but it was early. It was summer. There were no other appointments available today. And, we were in crisis mode.

Good News: The cab came and drove us to the appointment on time. The cabby and his wife were really nice.

Bad News: The cab ride cost $60 whopping dollars which made me glad I don't need cabs often.

Bad News: I got home and had to make a call to the IRS. The customer service rep was so rude and mean that I told her she was a jerk as I hung up the phone.

Good News: I called back and got another customer service rep who was really, really nice and gave me the information I needed without having to be put on hold for 20 minutes. Mrs. Martin, you are my favorite IRS lady. Yes, you are.

Bad News: I called AAA (not to be confused with AA) and asked them to come look at my car. They were delayed two hours, and I was stuck at home which forced me to focus on the laundry mountain.

Good News: AAA showed up and told me I had a dead battery -- I mean my car had a dead battery, which they promptly replaced. What a huge relief -- I'm leaving on vacation in two days and did not want my car towed to a garage.

Grateful News: I love the man who invented AAA. He's rescued me more times than I care to name. I wouldn't leave home without his card in my wallet. Ever!! Even if I go to China and use the subway.

Pressure.

My turn to host book club is on approach. I take my responsibility to pick a good book very seriously. It seems like in the past 2 months I've read more books that I've read all year. It's probably not true, but it feels like it. I'm getting nervous because I can't find "the one" -- that perfect book. Does everyone feel like this when it's their turn to host? I think they do. It's a lot of pressure, picking out a good read. My last one was a dud, so this time, I have to pull through. Bobette's still making fun of me.

These were all good, but I just can't commit.

Forgotten Garden
The House at Riverton
Shanghai Girls
The Peculiar Sadness of Lemon Cake
My Name is Mary Sutter
Wench
Little Bee
The School of Essential Ingredients
The Little Giant of Aberdeen County
The Psyick Book of Deliverance Dane
Loving Frank
Girl with the Dragon Tatoo

I loved The Forgotten Garden, but that's our book for this month. Plus, my friend Rachel has to be the one to lead the discussion, she really does. She's from Australia, where part of the book takes place. It was too perfect not to let her have it, even if she did start out with The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, a book none of us could get into. It was much too creepy -- violent sex crimes against women is a subject I stay away from (which I mention in case you hate stuff like that too.)

But now, I'm stuck.

What do you think? Read anything you just loved this summer? Has anyone out there read Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet? What about The Elegance of the Hedge Hog?

The Daydawn is Breaking

Summer mornings are the best. I love it when my body wants to wake up early, before the sun creeps over the hills to announce the day. My back yard is silent. The birds haven't started their morning overture. The only sound in the house is the dryer -- yes, I'm still working on that laundry mountain. I'm determined to finish it today. I walk downstairs, my kitchen looks like a bomb exploded all over the counters -- a Summer constant -- kids making food all day long. The ants love it. I love it too -- kids home and no schedule that is, not the mess.

This morning, the air is a little cool which is a nice relief from the sweltering heat wave of last week. The whole town complained as they went about their business. "Boy it's a hot one. This heat is killing me!!" I think we've all gotten a little spoiled this year, it was only in the low 100's -- tops. It's typically around 115 by now.

I'm putzing around the house with all the windows open, savoring those last few minutes of cool and quiet. In the corner, I notice the sunlight filtering over my sofas and coffee table. The quiet, and the light remind me of sleepovers at my grandmas when I was little. I loved being in her house, especially during the morning hours. I always woke up to the sound of a Rain Bird sprinkler, and that same sunlight filtered into the room across my face. I wish I could visit that house again and spend one more night there. I'd drink up all the smells and sounds just like I'm doing today -- only I'd appreciate it a little more than I did when I was young.

Secret Place Revealed

For those of you who've asked where Glenwood is located, it's your lucky day. I'm going to tell you.

It's located on Silver King Drive -- the street adjacent to the lower parking lot at the Park City Ski resort. Silver King Drive dead ends at Glenwood. It looks like the gates are locked and you can't get in. But, there's a little side entrance on the right hand side that you can walk through. Savor sitting on the bench for me, will you?

The Price We Pay

No time for posting today. No sir. I'm stuck in the middle of an island of dirty cloths that extends from my bedroom down the hall into the laundry room. It's a mountainous volcano ready to explode. I've already done 4 loads and it hasn't even made a dent. I'm not even going to post a picture -- way to embarrassing.

It's the price I pay for being gone so long.

Blonde Girl and a Cherry Tree

You know what I love? Orchards. They are magical. Years ago before I was married, my aunt and I used to visit them often. We would set up our chairs and get out our watercolors and spend the afternoon trying to capture the beauty of the trees on paper. Those were good days. I loved spending time like that with my aunt. I haven't painted with watercolors since which is too bad because my aunt stuck with it, and got really good. She became a true artist in every sense of the word. I would actually purchase one of her paintings.

Any-whoooo, As Claire and I were driving home from Utah earlier this week, somewhere near Mona, we passed orchards next to a big red barn. The barn is actually called The Big Red Barn and I've always wanted to stop and see what's there. But Matt, he hates stopping as we make our trek homeward. He just wants to get it over with. This time he wasn't with us, and I wasn't under any time constraints so I pulled off the freeway and stopped. We discovered the Red Barn's claim to fame -- "The World's Best Shakes." Claire wanted to give them a try. Me -- I just wanted to spend a few minutes in the middle of the trees.

Claire got her shake, which I'm disappointed to say isn't the world's best, but it was good enough for her. Not me, I threw mine in the trash. It wasn't worth a million calories. (Let it be known that Claire insisted I admit my evil deed in this post. She actually yelled at me and said "You better include the part where you threw your shake away after you found out they didn't make it the way you asked. You were so rude Mom!" I really wasn't, I snuck my shake in the trash when no one was looking .... I seriously didn't want to waste calories on something I didn't like. I apologize Big Red Barn.)

Any-whoo .... We wandered over to the orchard and it was full of pie cherry trees, my favorite. I had one in my back yard when I was a little girl. I spent hours in that tree reading books and eating cherries. That tree was a good friend. I miss it.

I'm so glad I stopped. But I sure wish I would have recharged the battery on my
Canon before we left Utah. I missed out on a fabulous photo opportunity. You just can't capture the magic of an orchard with a little pocket camera. Let me rephrase that -- I can't capture the magic with the pocket camera. Look what happened -- I'm back in automatic mode! Claire has dark shadows all over her face. Blue Lily is going to be sooooooo disappointed.

Oh well, next time.

Post Script: Red Barn has the world's best cherry-apple juice. I think they should be bragging about that instead of shakes! You need to try it. Yes, you do.

Thunder

It's not often that we get ear splitting thunder here in Temecula. But right this very minute, we are, and it's exciting. I'm standing in my kitchen with the back door open, take deep breaths through my nose. I love the smell of the wet rain soaking into the dry ground. And that sound .... rolling thunder with a loud

CRRRRRAaaaCK!!!!

The noise is right above my house. The whole sky is lighting up, and my dog his hiding in the corner, shaking with fear. That's how I know it's loud .... she's never done that before.

It's almost over now, and it's rolling on to the next city in it's path.

I wish it would rain like this all summer -- at dusk, just as the light is beginning to fade.

I better go take care of my poor little dog.

P.S. The battery on my camera just died so in lieu of beautiful pictures of rain and lightening, enjoy this out of focus shot of my wet hydrangeas.

Missed It By That Much

Matt returned home from his trip to Israel and Holland. He brought us back some souvenirs.

I got some dam chocolate, Eden got a dam shirt, and Claire got a dam satchel.

I said, "Matt, thanks for the dam gifts. The dam chocolates are delicious!"

For some reason, my children thought this was hysterically funny.

Where are their minds!!!! I think they need to get them out of the dam gutter!

And incidentally, you should feel sorry for poor Matt. His greatest love .... The Tour de France began in Amsterdam the day he flew home. Had he known, he would have stayed a few days to see his second love -- Lance Armstrong time trial. Dang! ( I never cuss.)

The Garden

A visit to Utah is not complete without a visit to "the Garden."

Here are two of it's creators. Grant and Nina. There is a third, but I've never met her. She's important though and I don't want to exclude her -- the Garden sits on her land.



The Garden is a thing of beauty . . . and order. Everything is organized into neat little rows. There isn't a weed in sight.



I envy it, but not really, because I know the price these gardners pay for the bounty. It's hard work. And I mean hard.

One must be diligent to grow a garden like this. You miss a couple of days and whoosh, it's all gone.



The minute the ground thaws each Spring, they are out there digging and planting, and hoeing, and weeding, and watering, and picking, and weeding, and ....






Whew! I'm getting tired just typing this! But luckily, because it's a garden, they can stop and take a drink out of the hose, and feast on a few blackberries .... or raspberries.


Then there's the harvest ... it goes on for months.

There are more fruits and vegetables than a person like me knows what to do with. But Grant and Nina .... they do know. They are experts.



They spend the entire summer canning. You should see their basement. It's like a general store.

I love the Garden, as much as I love the people who planted it.

Old Haunts

Everyone should have a secret place. A place you go when you need to be alone, where you can dream, and enjoy the quiet.

This is mine.


I know. It's a little odd that I chose a pioneer graveyard. But, if you were to pay it a visit, you would understand. At least I hope you would. But that's ok if you don't. I march to the beat of a different drum.

I shared this place with a friend once, and she said "Are you kidding me?" (Apparently, she didn't understand the music that I was trying to play. Even so, she's still an amazing friend.)

I will tell you the story of it's discovery on a night long ago when a handsome young boy took me on a date. We were out on a walk through a golf course in the middle of the night, under a full moon, and he said, "I'm going to take you to one of my favorite places. I don't take just anyone here, you know. But, something tells me you would appreciate it."

We wandered into the trees, and hiked through the tall grass. He lead the way as I followed behind, holding onto his belt loops for safety. I had no idea where we were going.

When we stopped, we were standing right here.


I gasped. The monuments surrounded by the shadows of wild flowers and Aspen, were tilted askew by years and harsh weather. The whole place was illuminated by the moon. It should have been frightening, but it wasn't. It was so beautiful. We sat on a bench and listened to the leaves rustling in the breeze, and we talked ... more like whispered.


That conversation under the light of the moon was a moment that I will always remember. There was a deep connection between that boy and me. He was a kindred spirit. We shared a love of the past, and dreamed of having a room in our future house that was dedicated to Christmas celebrations.

A few months passed, and the handsome boy got engaged to another girl. I met her once a little later, and I can tell you, she was not the kind to appreciate a secret place, or a Christmas room.

I was so sad. For a while, there was a hole in my heart.

I returned to the graveyard and sat on the bench. This time it was day, and I could see the details that surrounded me on that magical night. Sunlight peeked through the trees and birds were chirping in song. I sat on the bench a long, long while and listened to the music. I found peace in this place. I returned home and carried on.


I have made many visits to Glenwood over the years, but once I moved to California, they became few and far between.

Today I was in Park City with Eden. We rode the ski lift and whizzed down the mountain on the Alpine slide.



When we were done, I decided it was time to return to my secret place and share it with another kindred spirit -- Eden. I knew he would love it too.



And, he did.

I'm Homesick ...

But not for California. I miss living here. Utah is home. It always will be -- even though I haven't lived here for over 27 years.

I miss aspen groves,




and thunderstorms that roll in and out of the valley within the space of an hour.


I miss wild flowers,



and streams.



I miss hiking and cookouts in the canyon.



I have an aching love for the mountains of home.

You better believe I'm savoring every second that I am here.

It's the Little Things....

Eden and I woke up to a beautiful Utah sunny morning. At the crack of dawn I asked him "So what do you want to do today? It's your pick."

"Water Park" he answered.

So we put on swim suits, picked up a few cousins and drove to the ultimate water park in Provo.



As we traveled along the freeway, we noticed a lot of billboards with unusual names.

Eden said "What's up with all the weird names in Utah."

Abi said "What weird names?"

Eden said "Just you watch, you'll see them." And we did.

Abi said "Man, I've never noticed that before!!!"

There was a lot of laughing going on in the back seat as we pulled into the parking lot.

We left the conversation behind as we rented our tubes and slathered on sun screen.

We stayed all day. It was FUN!



It's ultra fun if you can swim with cousins that you rarely see, AND eat Dippin' Dots! (Which by the way, I don't like. It reminds me of the frozen balls I used to get on my mittens when I played outside in the snow.)




On our way home from the water park, the conversation continued. Eden said, "Look there it is again ... TRAFALGA!" What in the world is TRAFALGA!

Then there was an outburst of laughter followed by "PLEEEEEEASSSSSE can we stop and take pictures!! PLLLLEEEAAAASSSE???"

So we did. We drove all over town taking pictures at places with funny names. See for yourself.



Do you know, these three teenagers had more fun driving around taking pictures than they did sliding down tunnels full of water! I'm telling you, it's the little things in life that are so much fun. They will be talking about this in years to come.

Post Script: As I sat under my umbrella at 7 Peaks, a woman walked past who looked just like one half of Blue Lily which is funny because we both live in Temecula and I never see her there. Never. I was going to yell out "Hey Wendy" but I didn't because I'm prone to yelling at people who look like other people. It's a bit embarrassing. So, I emailed Wendy instead. I said "Hey I'm sitting at 7 Peaks in Provo and oddly enough, there's a woman here who looks just like you!" She emailed me back "Strangely enough, it WAS me!!!"

I should have yelled "hello."

Post Post Script: In case you are wondering, Abi dyes her hair with Kool Aid. Yes, you heard it right, Kool Aid.

Let Freedom Ring

I'm in Utah this week, on vacation, sort of. I made the trek to take Claire to a week long youth camp at BYU. Eden and I decided we would stay and hang out for the week and have adventures.

This was our first adventure, the Provo Freedom parade. And Claire got to go with us, because it took place early Monday morning.



There is nothing like a small town parade marching down the middle of an old part of town, to celebrate the 4th of July. The buildings, the floats, the crowd, the bands, and sirens .... there's so much energy.

I wish I could tell you how I felt as I sat there watching -- deep patriotism mingled with deep gratitude. I started crying the minute the war veterans made an appearance in an old army jeep and it got worse as the boys scouts marched by holding flags, and bag pipers followed playing Praise to the Man.

I love this country.

Thank you to all who serve on my behalf. I am grateful for you.