Countdown to the finish line (is that a mixed metaphor?)

Three class days left in the semester; two of them are teaching days for Dad/Paco/Larry, and he has his last lab EVER this afternoon.

Scattered across the country

I often imagine one end of each of eight invisible threads attached to my heart, the other ends attached to my children, children-in-law, and grandchildren. I feel the tug of a single thread, or the rhythmic tugging of several threads when my thoughts drift to one or more of the kids. Most of the time, the tugs are light and sweet, like when I think about Charlie and Angie relaxing on a Sunday afternoon, or the softness of Miles' skin, or the way Hannah smiles with her entire body. There have been persistent and disconcerting tugs at times, like when one of them is ill or under stress.

This weekend, eight tugs came at once, all of them from not-the-usual locations. Annie's thread stretched all the way to Florida, where she was attending a conference and having a reunion with Aunt Mary and Cousin Matt. It's almost the anniversary of Molly's accident and death; Annie's presence lightened Mary's and Matt's hearts.

Charlie and Angie took their threads to Fargo, ND, and carried them 26 miles to finish the Fargo Marathon. So Far to Go. Congratulations Chuck and Aunchie! We can't wait to read your blog accounts of the race!

Today, Elisabeth, Evan, and Hannah were pulling their threads to San Diego, and I imagined tugs as they flew from NC to CA, where Evan will be attending a conference, and Elisabeth and Hannah will visit a friend and talk to the animals at the San Diego Zoo.

Tanner and Miles didn't stray too far from O-Town, bringing their threads to St. Peter to stay overnight with Grandma Doreen and Grandpa Dave, then entertaining Grandpa Larry and me this afternoon before heading home to greet Annie.

Eventually all eight threads will return to their usual locations. In the meantime, I'm remaining hyper-vigilant for even the gentlest tug.

"Let me tell you a little secret, Miley..."

Mother's Day 2008

Fun time in O-Town today for Mom's Day. This is my first Mother's Day as a grandmother (think gray hair, wrinkles, sensible shoes, and a corsage). I can't imagine any better way to spend a day than with kids and babies. I got to see everyone in both categories except for Evan, who was called to the hospital to do a procedure just before Hannah and Elisabeth made an appearance on Skype. I guess the only better thing would be to have all kids and babies in the same place at the same time, but hey--technology provides the next best thing. Brunch was scrumptious (egg bake,--vegetarian or with ham-- monkey bread, fruit salad, spinach and strawberry salad), and all I had to do was show up and my work was done.

Here's Miles, after pulling and then tasting his mommy's hair.

Kids and babies, thank you for a lovely day. Happy Mother's Day to all, and to all a good night.

Not so blissful

A new coffee place opened in Mankato recently, right next door to the Fillin' Station, a rival coffee joint. Bliss, the new business, actually occupies the space the Fillin' Station used to occupy (which makes it easy to find coffee on that block in downtown Mankato). Bliss had a debut story in the Mankato Free Press last week, so when my friend LaVonne invited me to meet her there for coffee this morning, it seemed like a good thing to do.

Bliss's claim to fame includes the promise of good coffee and great chocolate, and the fact that it has solid granite countertops. There was no chocolate of any kind in sight today (apparently it's "on its way"). The latté I had was great, the service was slow (forgiven; it's a new place), and the countertops were solid granite. Not sure how granite contributes to the taste or quality of the coffee, but at least there is some truth in advertising at Bliss.

The music was overpowering and nerve-grating (apparently the management is going for hip and hop rather than sit and chat), so LaVonne and I went outside to the sidewalk seating area. Sunshine, fresh air, a souped-up car with an extra-loud engine being worked on by one of the coffee shop employees, and two motorcycles without mufflers zooming around the block, created a not-so-alluring ambiance.

It was nice to see LaVonne for the first time in 2008, but it would have been nicer if I could have heard her as well. To sum it up, I'd give Bliss 5 out of 5 stars for delicious coffee, 0 out of 5 stars for promises made about great chocolate, and I'd have to go looking for stars for a relaxing atmosphere. If they add a drive-through, I'll go back.

An otherwise quiet evening

Our neighborhood is usually quiet, with only the occasional speeder zipping down the Church Street curve, hell-bent on hitting 50 mph before skidding to a stop a half a block away at Traverse Road. Wintertime is especially quiet. Now that spring has decided to stick around, open windows invite siren sounds in as ambulances hurry along Sunrise Drive to the new hospital.

This evening when I heard sirens several times--ambulance and police--I let the sounds in, then out, of my mind. What I didn't realize was that the last set of wails stopped next door, at Mary, Darrel, and my other brother Darrel's house.

Dad/Paco/Larry saw the ambulance and police car in their driveway, so we waited anxiously out on our front steps to find out who was in peril. It could have been Mary or Darrel, of course, or a visitor who had left a bike outside the house. As we sat there trying not to appear nosy, which we weren't (we were worried about our neighbors), EMT's went in and out of the house, taking objects out of the ambulance and putting them back shortly afterward. The bike owner soon rode off, and the police car eventually left (which was either a good sign or a bad sign).

Finally, all three EMT's came out of the house without a stretcher carrying either a live-but-ill or a dead Mary, Darrel, or my other brother Darrel. The jocularity exhibited by the EMT's led us to believe that M and D were upright and breathing, which Dad/Paco/Larry verified after a quick visit to see if they needed anything. Turns out Darrel had passed out for several minutes, a replay of a similar episode a year ago. Mary tried to cancel the ambulance call when Darrel came to, but apparently cancellation is against emergency protocol. Darrel is fine, Mary is fine, and neither of them have a brother named Darrel.

Facsimile of ambulance referenced in story

Milford J. Grimmius

What could be more heart-wrenching than a little boy having a miserable day? Miles had one of those days today, and instead of laughing and playing, he whimpered and looked hang-doggy. It was oh so sad. He managed to share a few brave but weak smiles, and even a faint laugh or two. Not the usual happy and playful Miley we know and love. Are erupting teeth contributing to the little guy's listlessness? Constipation, perhaps? All we can hope for is that tomorrow will be a better day.

Bright spot: sharing a story about a brave (and foolish) little fishy

Blue-eyed baby boy with glistening tearsSleepy-tighty, Miles. We hope you'll feel better in the morning.

The haircut story, or bye-bye bangs

Note: This was printed in the sidebar previous to today. I didn't want to dump it, so I added it here. It's not new; just recycled. I'm going green on my blog.

Here is a visual record of the lovely haircut inflicted upon me by my four-year old neighbor, Barbara Snyder. We were playing beauty shop, so I share the blame. This picture was taken in Winona, at Grandpa and Grandma Reps' house on King Street, on one of the rare visits my cousin Diane made to MN with her parents, Aunt Marguerite and Uncle Lyman (my postal employee uncle who "went postal" with a female co-worker several years later. They didn't shoot anyone, but they cancelled each other's stamps, if you know what I mean. Marguerite dumped Lyman's mailbag as a result.).