The National Cathedral

On Friday September 18 Lori, Ian, Cullen and I drove to Washington DC and picked up Judy. We had lunch at a wonderful French restaurant (Now what did I do with that business card?) in Georgetown. Judy was in town on business, but had concluded that earlier in the day. Our goal for the day was to see the National Cathedral. I had heard about the wonderful stained glass windows and seen it on TV when events had taken place there. We opted to take a 'behind the scenes" tour and it was truly the right choice for us. We were shown a few of the key windows in the main cathedral and then we started to climb. We climbed up and up. Our tour guide took us through back doors, corridors and attic spaces. To top off the tour (literally) we went up on the roof. Wow. What an amazing site.

We managed to avoid most of the afternoon traffic and went back to Lori's house. We had a wonderful dinner, then played games. Judy, the boys and I played a new game we made up from another game. We made up the rules as we went. At one point I was laughing so hard I thought I was going to bust a gut. (that's my euphemism for wet my pants.) We had a great time. It was sad to drop Judy off at the airport the next day, but we had made some great memories.

I'm not in this picture of the gang outside the cathedral because I was taking it. What fun we had together.

More to come...

One if by land, two if by...river?

I spent Sunday in Boston on a tour bus. I talked Bruce into it (he usually likes to work solo) and I'm glad we did. We saw so much of Boston and the historical sites there. Bunker Hill, the U.S.S. Constitution (ship a.k.a. as "Old Ironsides"), the Old North Church, Fenway Park. Ok so Fenway wasn't so much historical as fun, but there you are.

The thing I learned that will stick with me most is the fact that the history I remember being taught as a child was somewhat skewed. Its amazing the number of historical "truths" I thought I knew turned out to be slightly off-kilter. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow took some significant license when he wrote his poem of Paul Revere's ride. The 'sea' referred to was actually the Charles river...not the Atlantic Ocean as I always thought. Plus there were several other riders besides Paul Revere who made the historical ride. The riders fanned out in many directions.

The site of the famous "Boston Tea Party" is nothing more than a plaque about 500 feet from the actual site of the uprising. The area has been filled in and a bank sits there now.

Old Ironsides isn't made of iron at all. (OK so maybe I was 10 years old and took things a bit to literally.) It got it's nic-name from a dying British soldier who said as he was dying in the river after a fierce battle (and I paraphrase here...) "Oy! Is that thing made of iron????" His remark founded on the fact that cannon balls had little effect on the hull of the ship. The actual hull is about 18 inch thick oak. Its a beautiful old vessel and the oldest still commissioned battle ship in the U.S. Navy.

The last two weeks have been a whirlwind of activities and sites. I hope to write about many of them soon. Mostly to keep my memory which tends to get a little skewed (just like the history I learned) clear and as true as a few days can make it.

Hostess with the Mostess

I've been visiting my niece Lori and her family near Annapolis, Maryland for almost a week now. I'm sure they are getting anxious to return to 'family normal' mode. I don't think that because I haven't felt welcome - certainly just the opposite - but only because I understand what it is to have something or someone new in the family dynamic to throw off your rhythm. And what a wonderful family they are...

Dad Ken is retired Navy (Lt. Commander) and now works in the weapons industry. He is a broad-shouldered man of Scot/Irish descent with a quick wit and strong political opinions. Born in Delaware, he has that northeastern accent that is difficult for westerners to place. It is clear to anyone observing that his family is of utmost importance to him.

Niece Lori Jean is the one that probably would have been voted "nicest cousin" among her Stewart cousins. She has inherited her mother's gift for making people feel loved and welcome in a manner that seems effortless - but of course is not. If you have a mental picture of Lori, it would be with a great big smile. She wants to be sure her guests have every opportunity to see/do everything they can in the time they have with her. She is tenderhearted with people and animals. She loves her family and the friends they have made over the years. She home teaches her sons in order to give them the best possible opportunities.

Ian is nearly 14 and getting taller every day. He is already much taller than his auntie (me). He has many interests that include swimming, sports, scouts and tae kwon do. Already in his short life he has lived in places many people only dream of. He is polite and handsome. He has an innate grace and confidence that only a few people are lucky enough to possess. I expect great things from him.

Cullen is 12. He and his brother get along very well. He enjoys scouts and sports, as well as reading. He is very creative and inventive. This week he carefully crafted a blow-gun from some sticks so he could shoot small objects. He worked very hard on it and it was successful. Cullin has a quick and funny wit. He has a twinkle in his eye that lets you know he is always thinking. He has a big heart and loves animals.

I've spent time with Lori and her family before, but every time I do I'm reminded how very special they are. The boys will grow up with all sorts of options and opportunities before them. They will chose wisely. I can't wait to see what happens next.

Kayaks and the old south

My daughter Kerry and I spent most of the weekend together out at the beach. We both enjoy a little adventure, so we decided to rent a kayak and tootle around on Devil's lake. We found we could really get moving when we syncronized our paddles and actually were able to show a respectible wake in the process. Some of the time we just floated and looked at the variety of houses around the lake, other times we tried to see how fast we could go. We were both happy that our nearly 4 hours on the lake only netted a small sunburn and gently sore shoulders.

When we first arrived at the boat rental shop, the owner was helping another group so we wandered around looking at the various boats. We found a beautiful black and white dog that appeared to be part cocker and part lab. I fell in love and began to pet and coo at the beautiful, friendly animal. Kerry began wondering about her name and came up with a few options one being Wesley. We looked and decided she didn't look like a Wesley then Kerry said..."Scout! She's Scout I'll bet...". The dog looked at us and wagged her tail. I said "hello Scout...is that your name?" She smiled at me as only a dog can.

When it was our turn to go into the boathouse and get signed up, I asked the owner first off what the dog's name was. He said "oh, that's Scout!" Kerry and I looked at each other and our eyes kind of bugged. Wow.

As we were moving about the lake I couldn't help but think back to other times and other places. Many years ago Bruce and I paddled a canoe down a river in Georgia near Stone Mountain. I remember how it looked like such a foreign place to me having lived all my life in California. Mom and dad were visiting at that time and they were on some sort of paddle boat and had Steve with them. They all waved as they passed Bruce and me in our little canoe. I can still see my chubby little boy in his white t-shirt and blue shorts waving from the back of the boat with my parents on either side, beaming at him.

This brought other memories back. We lived near the air force base in an apartment. My next door neighbor was a black woman named Anita. She had a little boy about the same age as Steve and the boys often played together. Her husband was also in the Air Force but was stationed overseas. One time Anita became very sick. He little boy was sick as well. She couldn't take him to the doctor so I volunteered to do it. As I sat in the waiting room with this adorable little black boy, it occured to me that the people around me assumed he was mine. Then I tuned into the comments they were making. They were rude and crude. I had never experienced anything like the cruelness I saw that day toward myself and this adorable child. I ignored the comments, but they stayed with me.

I've just finished a book centered around the south. I hate to make generalizations normally, but from my own experience there is an underlying cruelness in those people. I'm not sure if its bred into them, or if its the old 'nature or nurture" thing. I haven't spent much time there in recent years, but the little bit I have I'd have to say the cruelness is still there. I hope someone can prove me wrong.

Just a thought.