Autumn light

Late yesterday afternoon Larry/Dad noticed a neighbor's tree, lit up from the west by the low sun. The leaves shimmered golden; one of those perfectly staged autumn moments. Capturing the gold and the contrast with the deeper colors of surrounding trees and shrubs was difficult because of the bright, pale-blue sky framing it, but you can get the idea. I was reminded of a lovely poem by Margaret Kirkland that paints the warm colors and gentle sounds of autumn.

Autumn Muse

Turquoise skies contrast
the gold gingko leaves clinging
to ancient branches, as they did
when druids hid behind their fans.

Appliqued quilts of leaves
warm chrysanthemums, bowed
by time and frost.
Green tomatoes hang.

A red bird and yellow leaves
float in silence
out and down.

Wind-chimes strike the knell
for harvest's end,
sounding the quiet of buried seeds
and hibernating roots,
to come forth
in the staggered timing of creation.

The mystery of the purloined pumpkin plate

Purloined. A deceptive word. Too much like pork loin. Let's try a different title, like “the mystery of the pilfered pumpkin”? Either word choice--pilfered or purloined-- plays to the ear when combined with “pumpkin”, but both overstate the situation. “The mystery of the missing pumpkin” is more realistic.

I suppose by now you are wondering if there is any substance to this entry. Yes, there is indeed substance, and here it is, right now, with no more waiting to get to the point. Over the weekend, a small ceramic pumpkin plate that had been sitting on a bookcase disappeared. Granted, there were numerous nefarious types coming in and out of the house all weekend, including our kids, Baby Hannah, my nephew Mike, several good friends (here for Annie’s Baby G shower) who are all moms and wouldn’t pilfer pumpkins of any kind, some Gustavus alums and their offspring in town for Gustie Homecoming, and Dave Grimmius. But realistically, none of those folks would have an interest in a small ceramic pumpkin plate…or would they?????

FYI: If you come across an orphan ceramic pumpkin plate, be aware that it doesn’t look like either of the plates below, so don’t bother reporting in if you find one like these in your car by mistake.

(left) This isn't even close.......(right) Better, but not much.

Proof that I exist

I'm adding one more photo to the collection from last weekend. After reading the previous blog entry, Annie commented to me via email that I didn't include a picture of myself with Hannah. Gee, how could I have overlooked that??? Ha ha. To ensure that little Hannah knows that one of her grandmas lives in Minnesota, here is proof. You can see we are in O-Town, wishing the weekend were beginning instead of ending. Isn’t Elisabeth an adorable mom? Isn’t Larry a smitten grandpa? Doesn’t Hannah look like a baby who knows the purpose of a camera? Don’t I look like a woman with a mission—to kidnap a baby and teach her to understand Minnesotan? End of story.

Back in the blogosphere again

I've been out of touch blog-wise for more than two weeks. Why? you ask. I have a job, I'm too tired at night, I don't have anything to say, laundry is waiting, my muse is on strike. However, because the past weekend provided a plethora of events to share, it's time to blog once again.

Hannah comes to Minnesota
Need I go on? Probably not, because most of the readers of this blog saw Hannah, held her and kissed her good-bye, and now miss her almost as much as I do. Hannah came on Thursday evening with her mom, but her daddy had professional responsibilities at a conference for the weekend and missed out on the fun. : o (

Annie, admiring Hannah's new hair look...near-baldness becomes her.

Play time started early in the morning each day. Elisabeth and Hannah appeared in our bedroom, listened to us snore, then greeted us with a sweet good morning of little cool hands and baby smooches. Grandpa's response was, "Hannah, go make some coffee and I'll get up later." He doesn't know what he was missing, and that's a good thing, or he'd have been out of bed in a flash. Hannah is a chatty, playful morning baby who jives to the theme song from "The A Team", "La Cucaracha", and turns up her tiny nose at "I've Been Working on the Railroad." Every girl has her favorites.

Hannah's vocalizations are in the realm of kitten purrs and puppy growls, which she uses to hold stimulating conversations with her family members. Charlie is especially adept at Hannah-communication. Add Spanish and English to the list, and you can understand what a multi-lingual chiquita she is becoming.

Hannah, giving Baby G's new baby gym a drooling workout

Before Elisabeth and Hannah arrived, Grandpa shopped for rice cereal and baby food peaches, his personal favorites. Hannah had tried rice cereal a couple of weeks ago, so was willing to take a bite or two. She wasn’t exactly peachy keen about the peaches, though, which didn’t bother Grandpa Larry a bit. He dug right in, at which point Hannah attempted to reclaim her rightful fruit.

Baby G's shower
The highlight of the weekend was a shower for Annie and Baby G, creatively planned by Baby G’s aunties, Elisabeth and Angie. The attendees were all moms, with the exception of Angie, but NO PRESSURE, Angie! Annie received wonderful gifts of all kinds…such generous guests! Angie compiled data sent in by guests to predict Baby G's arrival and vital statistics. The majority predict Baby BOY G. The guests brought cards with advice for Annie on being a mom, and for Baby G about how to handle being Annie's child. Oh dear...

Doreen, about to become Grandma Doreen, developed a cozy friendship with Hannah at the baby shower. As you can see by the expression on Doreen’s face, she is in a state of disbelief about how Evan can possibly mistake Hannah’s flat lambie toy for a bear. You can see by Hannah's expression that she's given up, and has decided to go along with her daddy's incorrect interpretation of her pet.

Everybody loves Hannah
Baby Girl reveled in attention from Auntie Annie, Uncle Tanner, Auntie Aunchie, and Uncle Charlie, and she entertained all of us with charm and sweetness. She shared some secrets with Baby G that we won't know about for a while, but we're fairly sure she included advice about being a newborn and how to make it work for everyone involved.

Here she is, waking up sleepy Uncle Charlie,

and snoozing with Auntie Aunchie.


Annie and Tanner practicing to be parents

Grandpa and the queen of polkadot fleece

Sisters, goofy as always

Hannah and Grandpa Charlie
On Sunday we moved the party from St. Peter to Owatonna. Grandpa Charlie drove over from Spring Valley to see Elisabeth and Hannah. G'pa and Hannah talked, watched football, and had a great time together. At four and a half months, Hannah knows how to charm her (nearly) 84 year-old great-grandpa! When Elisabeth, Charlie, and Annie were babies, Grandpa Charlie was the one who could calm their crying and distract them into laughter. He was a natural with babies, and still is.

All good things must come to an end, dang it!
We had to say good-bye before little Hannah figured out that being cold isn’t so much fun after all. Thank you, sweet kiddies, for a wonderful weekend.

Hysterical Pregnancy

Annie wandered over our way today to pick up a few items in Mankato, then to eat supper with us (lasagne layerd with butternut squash, fresh spinach, a hint of prosciutto, romano cheese, and a white sauce flavored with rosemary...yum!). Here's a good shot of Baby G with two months to arrival. S/he has already been taking some fine kicking lessons from Cousin Hannah. I predict the two of them will have great "feet fights", not to mention their sure-to-be-inherited talent of synchronized leg movements. The Mommy Sisters are the champs at this unusual skill.
You're wondering about the "Hysterical Pregnancy" about now, aren't you? I'm guessing you already know it has something to do with Dad/Larry. See what we have to do for entertainment around here? Who says living in the Midwest is dull? Enough said.

Wanted: Dream Interpreter

You may or may not know this about Dad/Larry, but he has dreams that should be made into movies, or at least sitcom episodes. While my occasional interesting and vivid dream fades into the fog before both feet touch the floor, he recounts his unusual dreams with great detail.

Dad/Larry slept in this morning—no surprise—and when I went into the bedroom to suggest he might want to get up, I woke him from a dream that, for now, has no ending.

It seems Dad/Larry was out for a drive in a Lincoln Continental. The steering wheel in this well-appointed car was in the back seat, and Dad was the driver. It so happens that he was not alone; Johnny Cash, Dad’s friend Mark Kruger, and Hannah were in the car with him. Dad had brought Kruger along because he couldn’t depend on Johnny Cash to keep a close eye on Hannah (Must have been during Cash’s untrustworthy alcoholic years; I'll bet even June didn't let Johnny spend time alone with the kids.).

Despite Dad’s caution, Kruger wanted to talk to Johnny Cash about something, so he wasn’t paying full attention to Hannah and therefore Dad had to keep his eye on her. Eventually it occurred to Dad that this wasn’t a good situation because Hannah was taking a bath in her baby bathtub. Furthermore it was hard for Dad to drive from the back seat because he couldn’t see past Johnny Cash sitting in the front seat. Here's where I interrupted the tale.

Dad’s big concern after he told me the story was that he didn’t know where they were going. Does it really matter?

When it’s marked fragile, what does it really mean?

A gift from Evan, Elisabeth, and Hannah arrived today for Dad/Larry’s birthday (always good to extend the celebration!). Here are two photos of Dad/Larry with said gift, an adorable mug that shows the two faces of Hannah, rather like drama/comedy masks :o} Dad/Larry says he’ll take the mug to school and make it his official coffee mug. I think it will come in handy when he wants his students to know his mood (if by some astonishing chance they can’t tell his mood just by looking at him).

The UPS package from E, E, & H was delivered around 1:30 this afternoon. I had gone home at 1:15 to pick up a book I needed for work. As I was driving up Church Street to return to campus, I looked out of the rearview mirror and noticed the UPS fellow in his brown truck, brown shorts, brown shirt, and brown cap turning into our driveway. I hung a Louie at the top of the hill, tires screeching, car careening to the left on the two inside tires—oh wait, that’s NASCAR. I went back home and pulled in the driveway just in time to see the UPS man toss the box, which was marked FRAGILE, against the door that leads into the garage. He smiled and nodded, jumped into his truck, and sped off. I can only imagine what he would have done with it if the FRAGILE label hadn’t been there. Luckily, the mug survived the impact and Dad/Larry will look forward to coffee with Hannah tomorrow morning.

MUG SHOTS