San Diego, Day 1: We're Here!

June 29, 2008

The morning was still dark and cool as we arrived at Oklahoma City’s Will Rogers World Airport. We parked our car, checked our baggage, boarded the plane, and off we flew to San Diego.

In two hours we were in Salt Lake City; after a brief layover and another hour-and-a-half flight, we arrived at San Diego International Airport. As we descended into the sunny, breezy, southern California city I was awed by its expanse.

(Nathan playing his PSP in SLC)


“There’s the Naval Base,” Joe pointed out through the airplane window. “There’s the Coronado Bridge, and there’s Sea World. Over there is ‘Nasty’ City, where I used to live, and back that way is Imperial Beach, where the kids live now. Just beyond that is Tijuana. I can’t wait to show you my old hangouts, and we’ve GOT to spend a day in Julian!”

It must have been Dollar Rent-A-Car’s busiest day of the year; we stood in line behind other would-be renters for 2 or 3 hours before we could pick up our car. But finally we drove a white Dodge Caliber out of the parking lot, north on the 5 and east on Interstate 8 to the Quality Inn in El Cajon. (waiting for our rental car at Dollar)

After checking into our room and unloading our luggage, off to an early dinner it was. Por Favor, a bright, airy Mexican Restaurant and Cantina at Magnolia and Main in downtown El Cajon served up delicious enchiladas and fajitas. It was a wonderful meal after an already long day.

Now we’re back at the hotel room, winding down and seeing what’s on TV. Joe just called his kids, at their Grandma’s house. “We’re staying here in El Cajon; just had dinner. Por Favor. It’s Mexican. We got in town about 3:00. We’ll be in Imperial Beach tomorrow. Yes, Renee and Nathan are with me. He’s 11, close to your age. No, she doesn’t have green skin or warts on her nose. She left her black pointed hat at home. Yes, our hotel has a pool. You can go swimming in it tomorrow. What time do you get up in the morning? That late?! Well, we’ll be there about 11:00; that should give you plenty of time to wake up, have breakfast, and get showered and dressed. Yes, we’ll go to Sea World, not tomorrow but maybe the next day. I want to take us all to Julian, and sure, we can have lunch at Yoshinoya sometime….”

And so ends our first day in San Diego. Tomorrow we will unofficially become a family.

(Por Favor in El Cajon)

I'm Going to be a Wife!

June 27, 2008

It's official! We're engaged!

Yes, Joe gave me his mom’s engagement ring last night. A romantic scene it was, sitting on the couch, watching “Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader,” and he said, “Here, try this on and see if it fits.”

And that was it. No fancy dinner, no flowers, no glass of champagne, so violinist playing "our song." Ah, so romantic.

Seriously, I knew he was getting her ring sized for me and was going to pick it up from the jeweler yesterday, but I’d forgotten all about it. He was sitting next to me on the couch as I reclined back, stretching my legs out onto his lap. Something in his jeans pocket was getting in the way; I thought it was a machine part or tool or something like that.

“Do you want me to remove it?” he asked. I said yes, and he removed the small box from his pocket. I gasped as I realized that small box contained my engagement ring; a tangible symbol, valuable sentimentally but also physically, of the love that has grown in my heart for this man, and in his for me.

“You make me very happy,” he began. “I’m not perfect, but I’d love for you to be my wife.”

Wow. Wow. Wow. That’s all I could think. We’d been discussing marriage, so this wasn’t a complete surprise. But it was all so surreal. I was just telling him the other day, it wasn’t that long ago that I didn’t think I’d ever be able to love again, never find anyone to love me again. Even when we first started dating, it was weird to think of myself as someone’s girlfriend because I hadn’t been anyone’s ANYTHING for so long! And now, I haven’t worn anything on my ring finger in 5 or 6 years. So it seems unreal, as if I’m reading it in a book or watching it on a movie.

*****
I wanted my mother to be the first to know, so I called and told her last night. I emailed my brothers and sisters after that. And, I told Nathan over breakfast this morning. He was happily surprised! Clicking away at his PSP in the back seat of the car as I drove him to daycamp, he tried to digest the changes soon to take place, as only an 11-year old could.

“Mom, about the marrying thing, what did you say?”

“I just said that nothing would make me happier.”

“So does this mean I’m going to have a stepdad?”

I said yes, but it may be another year before that happens.

*****
Of course I'm all smiles today!! I feel like a giddy schoolgirl.

Into The Wild

June 14, 2008

On the advice from a friend, I just finished watching Into the Wild. I highly recommend it.

Into the Wild is a 2007 film adapted by Sean Penn from Jon Krakauer’s bestselling non-fiction book of the same name. The story chronicles the life of 1990 Emory University graduate Christopher McCandless, who left his home and family and everything he knew to travel the U.S. en route to the Alaskan wilderness.

This isn’t a book report, and as such, I won’t recap the story. That can be done by googling the title. My intent here is simply to give my thoughts and share my take on the story.

I can identify with McCandless. I fell in love with his free-spirited adventures. I’m fascinated with all the interesting people he met and the new and different things did. He experienced things he likely would have never gotten to experience, had he gone to Harvard Law; such as, leatherworking, running a combine, or kayaking the Colorado. I’m captivated by the places he got to see, just being out completely on his own, going where the wind took him.

In general though, the movie reminded me of my family, and specifically my brother Tim. Not that our family had a million-dollar consulting business whose parents gladly offered to buy a new car or pay for a Harvard Law education. Neither Joe nor I could imagine what it would be like to have parents with that kind of money.

But I'm afraid the family drama of the parents fighting and the kids having to deal with the confusion and finding out their parents' marriage wasn't exactly a fairy tale didn't have much of an impression on me. That was pretty much daily life for my siblings and me.

Even McCandless' sister saying, "I haven't heard from my brother in 3 months..." didn’t faze me. I was like, yeah, get over it, I didn't hear from my brother for 7 years. And then the parents going crazy wondering where he was and trying to find him and the mom imagining every guy on the street was her son... that is probably not much different than what my mother has felt ever since we lost touch with Tim.

I felt as if the parents were all about money and show, and couldn't cope with their son marring their "perfect" family image. They sure had a hard time letting go, letting him be his own self and live his own life. Then again, it would have been nice if he'd at least left a note or something. The least he could do was to send a postcard now & again -- but then, McCandless was like Tim, wasn't he. He didn't want to be found.

That brings me to one thing I've come to appreciate about my parents: their "laissez-faire" approach to parenting. Sure, it would have been nice to have had a little support and direction from them; but on the other hand, we didn't live with the pressure of living up to our parents' expectations and trying to be what they wanted us to be.

The story ended so sadly. I was hoping McCandless would go back home and reconcile with his family. I was left wondering what the moral of the story was, or if there was meant to be one. Maybe it was intended more as a docudrama.

Into The Wild has affected me so deeply. The critics have labeled his story “controversial,” but originally, as I watched the movie I didn’t see anything controversial about it. After reading my friend’s email, however, and a few weblinks she sent me, I see what people are arguing about. He was DETERMINED to get away from everything, everyone, and learn on his own as he went.

In many ways I can identify with that – here especially in my old age I sometimes dream of living in a cabin in the woods and literally living off the land. I dream of getting away from commercialism, materialism, some of the same “poisons” of society that McCandless spoke of.

It’s so true, though, what the critics say – he was unprepared. He was very intelligent, there’s no question, but he was more of a dreamer, wasn’t he, gleaning his “wisdom” from all those books he read. Nothing wrong with reading fiction, but you’ve got to know where the fiction ends and reality begins.

He appeared to have little or no experience with the wilderness at all, and looking at his family background, one of money and a materially charmed life, that’s not surprising. I wonder if they ever even went camping. Once.

And so when I think of Tim, that this sounds like something he would do, I know that at least he has the “outdoor” skills. He can fish, hunt, and probably start a fire out of sticks and stone. I believe he even knows how to make homemade jerky. I think either he or my dad could survive alone in the wilderness with no problem.

Anyway, back to McCandless. It seems that with as much hiking around he would have had to do, looking for food and such, he would have easily found the tram they spoke of, to cross the river. Or maybe he was just too delirious by that time to do much reasonable thinking.

I thought the movie could have pointed out what effects (positive or negative) he had on the people he met. Did he change their lives? Their thinking? Their outlooks? That’s not what director Chris Penn set out to show. But, it may have given McCandless' life more meaning, more of a human element to the story.

I was so sad that Christopher McCandless died. I wanted him to come back and spend his life telling about "the richest experience of his life." Jon Krakauer, though, captures McCandless’ life, and summarizes it in his 1993 Outside Magazine article, “Death of an Innocent.” http://outside.away.com/outside/features/1993/1993_into_the_wild_1.html

Busy Life!

June 11, 2008

Our lives are so incredibly busy right now. But you know I like it that way! I thrive on staying busy, mentally as well as physically. Joe, Nathan and I went camping in Sulphur in March. My sister Elaine and her husband drove out from Georgia to visit for a couple days in early April. Of course we never miss the Festival of the Arts around the third week of April. In mid-May, Joe’s Navy buddy Mitch visited from out of town, and the three of us saw REO Speedwagon in concert at the Zoo Amphitheater. Nathan had his Fifth Grade Graduation a week later.

Working in the yard this time of year is also one of my bigger tasks. From April through June I tend to stay busy planting flowers, keeping them watered, etc. This year, thankfully, I’ve got Joe to keep the lawn mowed, giving me more time to work on my flowers. I’ve got roses, azaleas, lilies, zinnias, columbine, mums, snapdragons, petunias, morning glories, and a few sunflowers that popped up from spilled birdseed. Joe’s building a retaining wall against the back fence for my yellow rose, zinnias, and the morning glories that climb up the shepherd’s hook that holds the birdfeeder. I might plant a few caladiums out there too.

My mind has been in a million places! Nathan is right now going to a 3-week (1 hour a day) band camp, learning the basics about the clarinet in preparation for sixth grade band. After that he’ll be in a week-long summer art camp at City Arts Center called “Our House,” where they’ll learn about architecture and house-building. Next month he’s enrolled in another week-long camp called “Rock Star Jewelry.” They get to make cool bracelets and necklaces and stuff out of bottlecaps and wire and whatnot. He likes crafts so I think he’ll enjoy that one a lot.

At work, one of our ladies retired just before Memorial Day so besides having helped throw her retirement party (she wanted a tropical theme; I made virgin pina coladas out of coconut cream and pineapple juice. They were a hit!) I’m training her replacement. I only got a couple months’ training on her job myself, so it’s been a challenge to learn AND teach at the same time, AND keep up my regular job responsibilities.

Joe’s going to Midland, TX, for a week, to train employees at a new plant; immediately thereafter we have plans to see Phantom of the Opera at the Tulsa Performing Arts Center. Tuesday I was voted in as Treasurer of our Homeowners Association. That’ll be something new; I’m excited about it.

I’m ready for our lives to slow down, but at the same time, I’m afraid I’ll miss something!

And, oh yeah, let’s not forget that trip to San Diego! We’re flying out on the 29th to bring John and Jodie back. Joe has spent nearly every evening this week after work, out at his mom's working on the storage shed. Fern’s house is a 3-bedroom, but 2 of them are filled with "stuff." All that "stuff" will have to be put in the shed to so that the kids will have bedrooms to sleep in.

Last Sunday I helped Joe affix the roof on the shed from about 4:30-8:00. It was a warm and muggy day, with just a little bit of a breeze. Sweat rolled down my back as I stood inside the stuffy shed, holding the nuts in position with the bolts so he could get them screwed in from atop the roof. Naturally the mosquitoes made their feast on my legs. Between holding nuts and bolts I’d reach down and SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Yes, John and Jodie will be staying with Joe and Grandma Fern, for now. My house is small, barely 1300 square feet, so is not nearly big enough for 5 people. Besides, the kids will need time to get to know me at their own pace, and I need time to get to know them. I’ll probably see them and Joe only on weekends for a while.

Nathan asked me once why I stay so busy. I said if I don’t, I get bored. I don’t see myself getting bored any time soon.

I'm Going to be a Stepmom!

June 8, 2008

Joe seems distant, as if he has a lot on his mind. I’m sure that’s because he has so much going on right now. His stepmother’s porch flooded after those spring showers, so he’s building a retaining wall for her, to prevent future calamities. His job is sending him to Midland, TX, in a couple weeks to train employees for the new department that will be opening soon. But before he leaves for Midland, he wants to finish putting up a storage shed in his mother’s back yard, in preparation for the latest change in our lives.

I’m going to be a stepmom.

Joe found out Friday, his ex-wife passed away a couple weeks ago. He knew she had been sick and in and out of the hospital for a year or more. She was paralyzed from the chest down in an auto accident when she was just a toddler. She’s been in a wheelchair ever since, and so would get bedsores. I guess the infection from the bedsores spread throughout her body and finally took her. We don’t know a lot more than that. Joe and her family are not on good terms, so they weren’t updating him on her condition or keeping him informed about her health. In fact, he found out about her passing from the family lawyer, NOT from the family themselves.

It’s all very strange. Even his son and daughter never said anything, even though he talks to them on the phone weekly. I can’t imagine that the kids, ages 14 and 12, would never say anything to him about their mother being in the hospital, in a coma, and finally passing. When he would talk to them on the phone, they would say simply, “Mom’s sleeping.” Or, “Mom’s not here right now.” Joe thinks they may have been “coached,” but even so, kids aren’t known for having a stronghold on their emotions. Sooner or later they would break down and spill their guts, it seems.

We were already planning a flight to San Diego, to bring them back to Oklahoma for the summer. But now they will be coming out to stay. Although Joe knew their mom was ill and hoped she would live long enough to see them graduate high school, she didn’t. She passed away May 20 at age 49.

So many mixed emotions! Joe is excited about having his kids back; he hasn’t seen them at all in over a year. And I’m excited about having a daughter and shopping for girl clothes and doing all the “girlie” things!

But life is going to change dramatically, for all of us. John and Jodie are leaving their home, their family, their school, their friends – all they have ever known to start a new life. And Nathan, well, he used to ask, “When am I going to get a brother or sister?” Or, “What’s it like to have brothers and sisters?” He finally has his chance to find out!

Antique History Lesson

June 9, 2008

Oklahoma has so much to offer. The State is full of history. And sometimes history can be found even when you’re not looking.

Even an antique market can be a history lesson, I found out.

Advertisements kept popping up all around town for “Buchanan Vintage Flea Market” to be held at the Fairgrounds over the weekend, and I thought it would be something new to try. Joe and I are always interested in new things to do and see. That’s one thing I love about him – he’s always open to trying something new and different.

Buchanan Antique and Collectibles Market, Oklahoma City and Dallas. I’m not much into yard sales but I love browsing thrift stores. Browsing a thrift store is like searching for hidden treasure – you never know what you’re going to find.

Buchanan’s was much the same, except that about 100 booths were housed in one building. There was booth after booth of fascinating things to look at. I love old dishes – bowls, teacups, ceramic ware. Several of the dishes I saw at the market were the Haviland name. I looked up “Haviland” on the internet and found that David Haviland started the company in 1842 after a trip to Limoges, France. After his death in 1879 the company was split between two sons, Edward and Theodore. As far as I can tell, the company is still in business, after numerous splits and reunions among the family members. Haviland china was a staple of the wealthy home. It’s very high quality.

A serving bowl at that I picked up at a thrift store carries the name Homer Laughlin. A little research told me that the company began in Ohio in 1871 but is now housed in West Virginia. A couple plates I found have the name Fairbanks Ward; I couldn’t find any information on them. Nor could I find much on Schwarzenhammer Bavaria – the name on another bowl I have – except that the logo used was used as early as 1923.

We spent hours and had a lot of fun just looking at all the merchandise: jewelry, trinkets, dishes, cookware, glassware, comic books, toys, games, all from days gone by. Some of it was from as recently as our childhood. You know you're getting old when you see something at an antique market, and think, "I remember having one of these."

There was this 45 rpm record on this old turntable, and I asked Nathan, who is not quite 12 yet, if he knew what a record was. His response? "It's when someone has the most of something." We had a good laugh at that! I told him, this is a different kind of record -- this is how we used to listen to music, way before iPods and CDs.

Later we saw an old washtub with the hand-cranked ringers (like the one my mother has in her basement, left over from the “good old days” before electricity and running water) and a washboard. Nathan actually knew what it all was and how it worked! I was surprised and impressed.

The most unusual thing we saw, though, was direct from the days of the Wild West. On the display table of one of the last booths we visited, were boxes of framed pictures of semi-nude women from back in the 1800s, along with copies of – get this -- signed prostitution licenses. Yes! One was signed by Wyatt Earp, and the gentleman running the booth said these were copies of actual signed licenses from states where prostitution was legal at one time. They were from the 1870s & 1880s, he said, and were for states such as Montana and Wyoming. None from Oklahoma. Prostitution was never legal in Oklahoma, he said.

We thought one of those would be a good conversation piece. Didn't buy one though, 'twouldn't be proper with a young kid in the house.

Out of the hundreds of knicknacks and whatnots we looked at, we only bought one thing -- a ceramic teapot, about 8" tall. It has some sort of Czech name imprinted on the underside; I couldn't read it well. Don't know if it's worth anything, but it sure is pretty. Very delicate looking.

I'm fascinated by the way people once lived. I'm fascinated with their homes, their lives, their clothing, their entertainment, their books, their education, even their social customs. Sometimes I wish it were possible to travel back in time, to see "how it was" before the digital age, long before computers and the internet, or even before simple things like electricity. A trip through the antique market may be one of the closest experiences we’ll ever have to time travel.

Arts and Crafts Festival

May 27, 2008

I love festivals. And Oklahoma’s got hundreds of ‘em! The Czech Festival in Yukon in October, the Watermelon Festival in Rush Springs in August, Robber’s Cave Fall Festival, the Street Rod Nationals in April (OK, so that’s more Joe’s thing)…these are just a few.

I love to watch the people, young and old, and to listen to the sounds of the crowds. I love the aromas of the brisket sandwiches, the roast corn, and the deep-fried funnel cakes, wafting through the air. I love the music floating from the sound stages. There are always new sights to see, new foods to try, crafts of all sorts imaginable to browse or buy, and all of it against the backdrop of mixed tunes and tempos.

Joe and I tried out the Paseo Arts Festival for the first time (ever!) this past weekend. The day was a hot one, with the occasional breeze bringing relief down the fairway. Quite a different sight it was, from the downtown Arts Fest, which we never miss. The Paseo is smaller and less crowded. And concessions were served in trailers and booths, a la State Fair, rather than the massive International Food Row that typifies the downtown festival.

The Paseo Arts Festival has 2 sound stages, versus the 4 performing arts stages downtown. We stuck around to watch local celeb Edgar Cruz play his classical guitar tunes for a while. But there was so much to look at, we couldn’t stay still for long!

I was surprised how many art booths were there, in spite of how small the Paseo is. The Paseo, which has been around since 1929, is merely 2-3 city blocks long, a strip of Dewey Avenue flowing between NW 28th and NW 30th Streets. The street is lined with unique gift shops, art galleries, a few restaurants, boutiques, and a coffee house.

Here's a little history about the Paseo Arts District:

In the 1950s, Paseo was home to small businesses, student partying and jazz clubs. The 1960s brought the counter culture with its creativity, free spirit and problems. The Paseo began its transition into an arts district in the 1970s. The first annual Paseo Arts Festival was held Memorial Day weekend in 1977 and the Paseo Arts Association was formed in 1982 to organize and further energize its place as Oklahoma's arts district. Today a vibrant group of artists with substantial involvement and support from the larger community continues to build The Paseo Arts District into one of the most creative art venues in the country.

***************

Probably what I enjoy most about a festival (and this is when I quit talking about the Festival and start talking about myself), is looking at everyone’s wares. I am AMAZED by the creativity, all the ideas that people have. A few booths at the Paseo Arts Festival were what I call “wearable art” – colorful but loose-fitting and simply-designed blouses, pants, and skirts.

This certainly brings back memories, memories from BEFORE family and career took all my time and energy. Memories of a less-hurried and carefree time when I had hours on end to cut, stitch, glue, design, imagine, create…

I was sewing by hand at age 6, and making my own clothes at 16. Of course I learned my sewing skills from my mother. She made clothes and toys for us kids; I can still picture her embroidering on a square of white muslin, or cutting scraps for quilt tops. She showed me how to cut out quilt squares and make patchwork pillows by the time I was in first grade.

Then there was that school craft fair in fifth grade; a fundraiser, where some percent of the sales proceeds would go to the school. I’d made that green-floral purse with the matching changepurse, from fabric my mom had in her scrap-bag. The changepurse had a hand-embroidered design on it. It didn’t sell; in fact I still have it today.

But that didn’t quell my enthusiasm! Mom taught me how to use her Singer sewing machine, and in time I learned to make my own clothes. Most of my church dresses were my own creations. I was constantly getting compliments on my outfits. People just couldn’t BELIEVE… “You MADE that?!” Others who didn’t know me well would ask if my mother “made that dress.” I would be like, nnnnooo, I did.

I began experimenting with decorating t-shirts long before t-shirt decorating was cool. Taking an idea from one of Mom’s quilt-top patterns, I hand-appliqued a cutout of Sunbonnet Sue in a pink frock, onto a grey sweatshirt. Her frock was made of scraps of a pink calico I’d used in a dress for myself.

Ah, those were the days. What happened to them? Oh yeah, life happened. I became an adult with adult responsibilities. If I could have developed that side of my personality, I’d have my own booth at the Paseo Arts Festival. But, here I am, 40-something, wondering what it would be like to make a living doing something other than sitting at a desk all day.

Then again, as Joe pointed out, I’d have to deal with crowds, and he knows how claustrophobic I get in crowds. Not even to mention the 94° heat! So maybe it's all for the best. But attending festivals, I won't stop. And it's never too late -- one day when life slows down, you just might see me working my own booth, designing and cutting and stitching and gluing, peddling my own creations instead of admiring everyone else's!