Like Rose

August 6, 2008

I’m so absorbed in Ghost in the Little House, a biography of Rose Wilder Lane compiled by William Holtz. I take it to work and read it over my lunch hour. I can hardly put it down when my lunch hour is up. It’s the kind of book I can get lost in. And hers was a life that has inspired me to pursue something I love.

The more I read, the more I realize that Rose and I are not so different. She was very intelligent and not too popular in school. She was only too aware of her “have not” (I hesitate to say poor – her family, like mine, had what they needed but didn’t have a lot of luxuries) status in the world. She was very perceptive and aware, even as a young schoolgirl. She was deep of thought and wanted so much more than a life on a farm as a wife and mother. How does the author put it? “Hers was the isolation of a precocious child in a commonplace world…”

That statement struck a deep chord in me. That was me. That was me all throughout school and even into my adult years. I was like Rose -- always different, even from my own siblings. As early as first grade I remember being singled out for higher and more challenging work. I hated being left out, being different. My mother says I always had “plans”; indeed, I was never satisfied with the status quo.

Like Rose, I was aware of my (lack of) social status, even in elementary school. My family always had what we needed, physically, but I was very aware that “the other kids” always had better stuff. Better toys, better houses, better clothes, and as I got into my teens, even better boyfriends.

Like Rose, I excelled in my school studies, and craved more. By the time I was 9 I was challenging myself in my spare time. I worked at 6th grade math problems in 4th grade, simply because I enjoyed it. It was fun, to me.

I studied the ancient Egyptian and Greek alphabets. We had a set of 1972 World Book Encylopedias at home in our livingroom bookcase, and the first page of each alphabetical volume described the history of its respective letter. From Phonecian to Egyptian to Greek to Roman, I learned to write each letter as the ancients did.

I kept detailed records of the coins in my piggy bank by age 10, and knew at least by age 12 that I was going to make a life for myself, most likely in the business world. Not sure doing what, exactly –I just knew that I was labeled as one of the “smart kids,” and that I would go to college one day. Some people grow up with the family attitude that the question is not ARE you going to college, but WHERE are you going to college. But you have to remember that I, like Rose, grew up in a very rural, blue-collar community. So I was one of the few with that mind-set.

Like Rose, I was continually looking forward and was never content to settle. Besides college-prep classes, I enjoyed my business-related classes: typing, adding machine, shorthand (which is all but nonexistent today). There would be no working in a carpet mill for me.

After travelling the world, Rose longed for home and at age 38 began to appreciate the rural life she had once strived to break free from. Like Rose, I was about 40 when I began longing to get back to my roots, my home and its comforts.

Maybe like Rose, I could have been a journalist. Perhaps if I’d gotten a job as a typist, a file-girl, or even a mailroom clerk with the local newspaper office when I was 18 and looking for a way out of fast food, my life would have turned out much differently. I probably would have never pursued a career in finance. Instead I would have learned the journalism industry from the bottom up, as I did accounting.

But it’s never too late. Rose’s life may have ended when mine was barely beginning, but I feel as if I grew up with her and knew her personally. Even though becoming a writer wasn’t her “dream,” she excelled at it and her work became known worldwide. And though she’ll never know it, she has inspired me to strive for the same.

State of the Economy

August 1, 2008

And speaking of money, well, the economy hasn’t changed over the weekend. Gas prices have fallen to $3.37, which is good, although I remember when we thought $1.80 was outrageous. Oil is up to $125 per barrel, but Joe says he expects it to get back down to $70/barrel. I doubt that’ll happen anytime soon.

The Dow peaked at just above 14,000 last October; it’s down to about 11,500 now.

The prosperity couldn’t last. The prosperity of the 1980s and 1990s, that is. Have we learned nothing from history? Sooner or later everything goes by the wayside. Even WalMart will one day be an experience we’ll tell our grandchildren about. Joe talks about going to TG&Y as a child, and shows me buildings and stores now that “used to be a TG&Y.”

TG&Y, Otasco, Western Auto, the mom & pop dimestores (such as Lay’s in downtown Dalton, or Gene’s Variety in Tunnel Hill), are nothing but childhood memories now, to my generation. Even Kmart and Sears are practically nonexistent anymore. WalMart has edged them out of the discount/variety/department store market. What will edge WalMart out?

I think even shopping malls will eventually go by the wayside. Remember when malls put an end to the downtown shopping experience as we knew it? A new mall opened in my hometown in 1981, and it was THE place to be on Friday and Saturday nights. It was THE place to shop. Downtown, where my mom bought all our school clothes and church dresses when we were growing up, became nearly a ghost town.

Shopping malls are already crumbling, at least in OKC. Crossroads Mall on the southside, and Heritage Mall in Midwest City, have long since lost the large “anchor” department stores, and smaller stores are disappearing one by one. Kohl’s and places like it are edging them out. Kohl’s has constant sales and discounts and cash-back coupons… but they are making money. Their stock has grown from under $10 per share in 1995 to 50 in 2005, peaking at nearly 80 at the market’s height. A large reason is probably because they don’t have the mall overhead eating up their profits. Kohl’s are standalone stores.

In fact, that’s what I’m seeing more and more of in this new century -- strip malls and standalone stores. Old Navy, Cato’s, Shoe Carnival, Starbucks, Panera Bread, Staples….. non-“mall” stores & restaurants are going up everywhere. As the economy declines, people won’t have so much disposable income to keep shopping at the more-expensive malls.

Still, good accountants and finance people will always be in demand. Somebody’s got to manage the money!

What’s going on with tech stocks? Within the past year or so I predicted that tech stocks were the way to go. Technology is a driving force in our culture right now, and it will only grow. Microsoft (MSFT), Dell Computer (DELL), Apple (AAPL), and Best Buy (BBY) are performing similarly, bubbling up and down. The NASDAQ is at 2,280 right now.

Apple is at 157 today. If you’d invested in Apple just a few years ago, you’d be wealthy now. July 2007, a year ago it was 132.30; July 2006 55.40; July 2005 36.50, and July 2004 15.54. That’s a 900% increase in just 4 years! The value has shot up with the iPod and all the other techie gadgets the company has been producing. Too bad we can’t hop in the Delorean with Doc Brown and go back a few years and invest our life’s savings. By now we could be retired and living on a beach somewhere.

Employment is on shaky ground. I read that 51,000 jobs have been eliminated (nationally) this past month, and over 400,000 have been sliced since the beginning of the year. The unemployment rate is 5.7% and some economists expect it to reach 6.5% in another year. At a time like this, if you’ve got a good job, HOLD ON TO IT.

But on the other hand, this could be the start of some revolutionary change. I think that the job eliminations could make way for people to branch out, get creative, and try entrepreneurialship (is that even a word?). The end of one thing is always the start of another. Remember what Rhett Butler said in Gone With The Wind? There is money to be made in both the building up and the tearing down of a civilization. And the world as we know it is spiraling downward. Times are a-changing.

A couple articles I read recently say essentially the same thing. Robert Kiyosaki wrote on Yahoo! Finance that the masses got optimistic with the economy, until recently when real estate exploded all over the place, oil prices skyrocketed, FNMA & FHLMC started going under…. add to that the already-existing issues of Social Security and Healthcare. Now the masses are pessimistic, and NOW is the time to invest.

Perhaps there is money to be made in this tornadic economy. It takes research and some vision, to be sure. There’s no magic potion.

Remind me to read this again in 10, 20, or 30 years. It’s like a story unfolding and I can’t wait to see how it all turns out.

Marital Money Management

July 28, 2008

Now that Joe and I are engaged, I’m broaching a subject I’ve avoided for so long: finances.

As an accountant not just by profession but by nature, I’m generally pretty anal about money management. Especially toward someone I’m in a relationship with. But I’ve purposely stayed clear of that subject with Joe. If I got involved in that part of his life, I’d become way too controlling and would stress out and give myself headaches. Plus, such a controlling attitude would cause endless, needless arguments.

Besides, his money is his money, his debt is his debt.

Until now. As the future Mrs. Archer, I need to know what my significant-other owes and where his money goes. We’ve been fairly open with each other about how much we make and what we spend and such. We don’t try to hide anything from each other. He knows how much I make, I’ve told him what I owe, what my monthly payments are, and what I have invested. He’s seen firsthand how I spend – I look for sales & discounts, I shop at thrift stores, I don’t use credit extensively, and I keep a fairly modest lifestyle.

Joe seems to have a lot more disposable income to spend. His take-home is about $1,000 more per month than mine, and he has no car payment, house payment, or utility bills. I’m sure though that he helps his (widowed) mother with necessary expenses. He is paying down balances on 2 credit bills, pays his monthly cell phone bill, and of course has car insurance. That is the extent of his basic living expenses.

His check is garnished monthly for child support to his first wife, and he has begun paying his military disability payments directly to the Department of Human Services to more quickly satisfy the balance. Ideally he’d be socking that away, but the quicker he gets the obligation paid off the better. I’ve calculated that the remainder of his monthly disposable income goes for groceries, gas, Wal Mart runs, entertainment (movies, camping trips, and the like), and eating out. He likes to eat out much more than I do.

So I’ve asked him if he could bring some recent bank statements next time he comes over. I’d like to study his spending habits.

And of course now that we have custody of his kids, expenses are going to be greater – primarily in the areas of groceries and school clothes, not to mention school supplies and school lunches. So if I combine our take-home pay, and deduct our combined expenses, hmmm.... Oh, and don’t forget savings! We need to build a strong savings and save a set amount each month.

Thinking even further out, we’ll have to get a bigger house, and I’m going to need a new(er) car very soon. And all this is provided our incomes remain constant. What if something changes in our jobs?

So much to think about! I know every couple goes through this thought process (or at least ought to). But being in our 40’s throws a whole new load of nuts and bolts into the mix. On the upside, age has also brought much widsom: we’ve also changed the way we think about finances. We’re more careful about how we manage what we have. We’ve learned to appreciate what we have and to not take anything for granted. We know how important it is to be of the same mind when it comes to money management. And most of all, we both know that money isn’t everything.

Money is important, but lots of things are so much more important. Honesty. Openness. Teamwork. Talking things out. Appreciating each other. If those qualities are in place, marital money management will take care of itself.

Rose Wilder Lane, Author Ahead of Her Time

July 26, 2008

Recently, for some reason which I'm not recalling, I got to looking up Rose Wilder Lane on the “library.” That’s the internet. Joe calls it the “library” because whenever we have a question about any subject, we can look it up on the internet. The internet has all but replaced the traditional library.

Oh, I remember now, I was looking for a copy of Let the Hurricane Roar to purchase. I have an old, tattered and torn 1933 hardback copy at home; on the inside front cover is stamped “Murphy High School” so I know that it came from the high school my dad and aunts and uncles went to. But I haven’t the foggiest idea of how it came into my possession.

I've gotten interested in the writings of Rose Wilder Lane and her continuations of her mother's stories. Rose was the only child of Laura and Almanzo Wilder. Yes, the Wilders of the “Little House” books. Now, I know that when many people think of “Laura Ingalls Wilder” and “Little House on the Prairie,” they think of “that cute little Ingalls girl,” and memories of the 1970s TV show of the pioneering Ingalls family come to mind. Indeed, I read my first “Little House” book when I was 9 years old and was an avid fan of the series. In fact, when I was 9 I wore my mousey brown hair in braids and was often told I looked just like “that girl on Little House on the Prairie.”

But Rose was very different than her mother. She was stubborn, rebellious, and independent. Born in 1886 in De Smet, Dakota Territory, and raised as a country girl in the small town of Mansfield, MO, she wanted no part of farm life. Rose moved to California in her early adulthood, dabbled in real estate, married, divorced, became a journalist, travelled through Europe, lived in Albania for a time, and lived out her last years in Danbury, CT.

Rose became quite a successful and accomplished writer in her day. Controversy has been raised over how much of the Little House books she actually wrote. She was already established as a writer long before Laura ever penned the Little House books, and as such, it is believed by some that Rose actually wrote the bulk of the stories. She claimed she didn't. Her biography, Ghost in the Little House, by William Holtz, discusses this ongoing controversy in depth. If you’re a fan of the books, I highly recommend Ghost.

Rose had more of a hard-headed, “no-nonsense” way about her than her mother, and seemed to be on the confident, independent, and cynical side. I can identify with those qualities. She was highly intelligent, dropping out of school because the pace was just too slow for her. I can certainly understand that – much of the pace in my elementary and middle schools was too slow for me. I read encyclopedias and learned the Greek alphabet and studied advanced topics in math – all in my spare time.

As farmers just making ends meet, her folks didn’t have money for college. However, it does seem that with her drive and ambition, Rose would have found a way to get a college education. At any rate, she educated herself by teaching herself different languages and travelling extensively. She married Claire Gillette Lane in 1909, divorcing him after just 8 years. With her success in writing Rose became quite well-off, investing in the stock market and convincing her parents to do the same. They lost it all in the Crash of 1929.

Rose’s early career provides a rich narrative history of the Old West. One of her first works was Young Pioneers (formerly Let the Hurricane Roar, published in 1933), a story of the fictional David & Molly (representations of Charles & Caroline Ingalls, her grandparents?) as they first got married and staked their homestead claim in Dakota Territory in the 1860s, pursuant to the Homestead Act of 1862. Rose brings it alive so vividly, how people lived and made their way in the unsettled West.

Published in 1938, Free Land was another of Rose’s novels written against the backdrop of the Homestead Act. The Act, signed into law by President Lincoln on May 20, 1862, promised settlers title to land if they worked it for 5 years. It “gave an applicant freehold title up to 160 acres of undeveloped land outside of the original 13 colonies. The new law required three steps: file an application, improve the land, and file for deed of title. Anyone who had never taken up arms against the U.S. government, including freed slaves, could file an application and improvements to a local land office.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homestead_Act)

But it turned out that the land was never really “free.” The price was much more than anyone could have known, in lives, sickness, drought, fire, even in grasshoppers, which would fly in swarms and devour every last trace of an otherwise promising wheatcrop.

This morning I finished On the Way Home, a diary Laura kept of their 6-week journey by covered wagon in 1894 from Dakota Territory to Mansfield, MO, where they lived out the rest of their lives. Rose gave an introduction to the story as she remembers it; though she was just 7 years old at the time, she relates the trek in amazing detail.

Rose remembered Laura working as a seamstress 12 hours a day 6 days a week, for $1 a day, in Dakota Territory. Partially with the money Laura earned, the Wilders paid $100 down (worth well over $2,000 today) for their acreage and paid off a $300 mortgage at 12%. 12 Percent!! Mortgage rates aren't nearly that high now, 100 years later!

I thoroughly enjoyed Laura’s style of writing, too. She candidly described each town they drove through in terms of the landscape, the crops (or lack thereof), the people. She spoke of emigrants (Germans, Russians), "colored people," the settlers they met along the way coming and going, some prosperous and generous, some with less than they had.

As they travelled from town to town Laura wrote of the going prices for apples, beans, wood, land, and numerous other commodities. Her focus throughout the story was on land and farming, i.e., how good or bad of a living one could make on this land or that land. Good land was what people needed; it was their livelihood. In modern times I can’t imagine living on (and working) 40 or 80 acres of land. But 100 years ago that land provided almost every need a family would have.

On the Missouri farm, Almanzo cleared their land by chopping down trees and selling the timber in town for 50 cents (not sure how much timber for the price). Their apple orchard would bring money in each year, and the Wilders most likely sold the eggs, milk, butter, and other goods produced on their homestead, to make their living.

The settlers of the 1800s likely couldn’t imagine life now, a home on a single small lot, scores of homes on an acre. I’m sure they couldn’t envision the concepts of the supermarket or mass production or gas-powered automobiles or housing additions or interstate highways. And certainly not of computers or the internet!

This nation has come a long way since settling the West. Rose Lane may have been independent, impatient, and more ambitious than a woman of her time was allowed to be. But it was those qualities that made Rose succeed as a writer. As modern-day readers we can learn some insights about what it was like to be a settler, and we have Rose to thank for it.

Mom Angst

July 24, 2008

Nathan will be 12 tomorrow. Wow, I can’t believe that. Twelve years ago today I went into work as usual that Wednesday morning. I was an accounting clerk at the now-defunct wholesale food distributor, Fleming Companies. I parked underground at the Waterford complex where Fleming’s headquarters were housed. I met my friend Pam on the way to the elevator. I remember saying that I’d been having back cramps, like I was getting ready to start my period. “Do you know what that means?” she asked. I nodded, assuming she meant that my labor had begun.

My due date was July 26. Nathan was born Thursday night about 9:15 on the 25th. Twelve years ago.

He & his dad are spending the day at Frontier City, and Saturday at White Water. That’ll be fun for them. The rest of us – Joe, John, Jodie, and I -- are making the 4-hour drive to the southeastern corner of the state, for our annual float trip down the Lower Mountain Fork. Joe and John are renting the canoe for the 9-mile, 6-hour trip down that river in Broken Bow, while Jodie and I are going to hang out and walk trails or something. You know, have some mom & stepdaughter bonding time.

We’re staying in a cabin this year, instead of camping at the Rereg Dam area like before. No facilities at the Rereg; only outhouses. No running water; what we usually do is take 3 or 4 gallon-jugs of water and soap, shampoo, and toothpaste, and just wash up by hand. I can’t stand feeling grody after a night’s sleep, and as I recall, last year was hot and muggy so I HAD to get cleaned up.

Won’t have that problem this year though, staying in a cabin! It’ll feel great to get a shower in the morning after a hot Oklahoma day. On the downside, I’ll miss falling asleep to bugs calling and river water bubbling, and waking up to tree leaves rustling and birds chirping as the sun rises over the water.

Nathan seems to be adapting well to his new step-siblings. It’s hard to tell; he began pushing me away when he was about 9 or 10 (as most pre-teens do) and he doesn’t talk to me as openly as before. I miss that.

Earlier this summer I had an idea for a way for Nathan to make a little extra spending money. Aluminum cans! I called the recycling plant earlier in the spring and they were paying 75¢ per pound for aluminum cans. It’s gone down since then, but money is money, right?

I’d been collecting them on my own at the office, which gave us a good start. Then we started collecting them from the roadside near our neighborhood. You’d be amazed how much trash people just throw out onto the streets. Much of that may be the wind, carrying paper items from trash cans to the roadside. But no way would even the Oklahoma winds carry glass beer bottles, or place empty beer cans along the same stretches of the same roads consistently!

We find a LOT of beer cans along the sides of the roads near our home. Also I’ve discovered that construction sites are virtual gold mines. Numerous houses are going up in Yukon and Mustang, and the workers just toss their soda or energy drink cans on the ground. Probably the majority of the cans we’ve collected have been from construction sites. Sure they’re dirty and covered with that red Oklahoma mud, but that can be washed. Hey, I grew up near the woods. I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.

Geez, I just realized I've spent 2 paragraphs talking about aluminum cans. I gotta get a life.

Anyway, we rinse each of the cans out to get the dirt out or even just the last remaining drops of cola or beer, squash them to make them smaller so they take up less space, then bag them up. Last night we bagged about 12 lbs. Before we went on vacation Joe took 8 bags to the recycling center to cash them in. Those 8 bags turned out to be 21 lbs. We got $15 out of it. Not bad money, for a 12-year old.

Besides helping Nathan make a little money, I’m trying to teach him some work ethic too. He is expected to help in some way, whether it’s gathering, washing, or bagging the cans. It won’t be too many more years before he starts looking for a summer job, and I want him to go into it with a right attitude. When you’re young, employers aren’t so much interested in your hard skills, they’re more interested in your attitude and ethic. I’ll end this piece with lessons I believe in and hope my son learns to follow also:

1. Don’t do a half-way job. Do your best work and double-check yourself when done.
2. Follow directions. Do what you’re asked to do….
3. …without arguing. Have a “you bet” attitude.
4. Work as a team with whoever you’re working with. If you finish your job, see if you can help someone else.
5. Be responsible. Get your job done, done well, whether anyone’s watching or not.
6. Be dependable. Do what you’ll say you do, when you say you’ll do it.
7. Listen to instructions and pay attention to what you’re doing.

SD, Days 5&6: The Beginning of Many

July 3-4, 2008

I’m so impressed with how well the kids are bonding! Here they are pretending to watch TV as they watched the clothes tumble dry. “I’m watching the jeans channel!” said Jodie. “I’m watching the cartoon channel!” said Nathan, as he watched Scooby-Doo and Dexter beach towels tumble along with our bath towels.

My new fiancé and I did a little smoochin’ while the kids were occupied. But not for long! John turned around and exclaimed, “I’m watching the LOVE channel!”


John and Nathan played a card game or two over Grandma’s coffee table, while we packed up John and Jodie’s remaining clothes and toys and things. They posed for a pic around a statue of a mother bear and her cubs at Veijas Outlet Center, and again for another shot near the Gaslamp Quarter in downtown San Diego.

Yes, they are bonding quite well. I’m so glad; one never knows what is going to happen when families blend. Will the kids get along? Will they accept their new stepmom or stepdad? And especially in John and Jodie’s case, how will they adapt to all the changes going on in their lives? What will it be like for them, starting new lives in Oklahoma after spending their young lives in southern California? Being so far away from the family they know? Going to a new school and making new friends? Dealing with the loss of their mother on top of it all?

********

Today was our last full day here. Joe has tried to show me as much of the city as possible, but there is just so much to see and do! He took us by the Naval Base. We drove across the Coronado Bridge.

We took the trolley downtown. We walked by Petco Park, home of the San Diego Padres.

We saw the “Walking Figures,” a sculpture by Magdalena Abakanowicz.

“18 headless cast iron figures stride toward a place unseen, each with one foot forward. The headless figures derive from the social turmoil Abakanowicz has experienced, and it represents the nature of human beings as they travel in groups. The 18 figures were individually cast in Poland, with unique markings that ensure no two figures are alike.” http://www.portofsandiego.org/

Then it was back on the trolley to Seaport Village, to see the fireworks. Splashes of color lit the sky as I reflected on the week's adventures.

I have a feeling these are just the beginning of MANY adventures to come. For years I've wondered what was my purpose in life. What is my value? What is my worth? What am I here for? And now I know. The twists and turns and ups and downs my life has taken, have all trained me for this new task in life, the new adventure of raising a blended family.

SD, Day 4: Old Mining Town

July 2, 2008

The sky was clear and sunny this Wednesday morning as we drove east to visit the tourist town of Julian! Visiting Julian was like taking a trip back in time to the days of the California Gold Rush.

Julian is a quaint tourist town, about an hour’s drive from San Diego. The town began as a mining camp in 1869 when gold was discovered there. The city was officially founded in 1870.

According to http://www.desertusa.com/, “By the summer of 1872, there were 50 houses, 3 hotels, 4 stores, 2 restaurants, 1 schoolhouse and the "usual number of saloons" to service an estimated 300 miners working in the area. Numerous hard rock mines were established in 1879 in the Julian and Banner area yielded an estimated $4 to $5 million dollars in gold ore.”

Approximately 300 residents live within the township now. Historic buildings over 100 years old still stand, welcoming the modern visitor. Our first stop was the Miner's Diner for a soda at the soda fountain.

Then it was down the walk to this gift shop called the Old Julian Garage. We each had our chance to pan for precious gems, just like the miners of old.

OK, maybe not "just like" the 1870's miners! The modern process is a bit more controlled: a bag of sand mixed with stones is poured into a screen, and water is pumped thru a trough as it washes away the sand, leaving the gems behind.

below: Resting our feet and taking a break from the sun.

Around town: Julian Hotel, built in 1897, and the Julian Cafe and Bakery, as old as the town itself.

Julian is also famous for its APPLES! "The gold rush was short-lived, nearly over within a decade. But the pioneers stayed and began farming the rich land. While many crops were planted and animals pastured, Julian proved to be a fine place to grow apples. Apples continue to be produced in Julian. Their sweet, fresh flavor lures thousands to the mountains each fall, when visitors will find fruit stands overflowing with crisp fruit, homemade cider and other delicacies." (http://www.julianca.com/)

Joe has fond memories of apple pie in Julian. He would bring his kids here, when they were too young to even remember. He said that since there wasn't any snow in San Diego, he'd take the kids to the mountains near Julian to play in the snow! They would then stop in town for a hot chocolate and apple pie before going back home.

Well, with memories like that, we couldn't NOT stop in for some of that apple pie! Our day ended with a visit to the Cider Mill, and hot, fresh apple pie from Mom's Apple Pie. That was THE BEST apple pie I've ever eaten, and I don't even like apple pie that much.

SD, Day 3: SeaWorld!

July 1, 2008

below: The first thing we did was ride Journey to Atlantis; part roller coaster, part water-ride!

right: The new family: Melanie, Jodie, Joseph, John, Nathan. What a motley crew we make!

left: Pets Rule! Cats, dogs, pigs, and even ducks are trained to do this ever-so-cute show! If you love animals you have to see it.

Freezing our bippies in The Wild Arctic!

right: Porpoises glide underwater near Atlantis

Feeding manta rays

right: Lunchtime (finally!) at Shipwreck Reef

left: This pretty thing probably has his picture taken a thousand times a day.

Cirque de la Mer

right: BARRACUDA at Shark Encounter

I want YOU!





right: No trip to SeaWorld would be complete without a visit to the Shamu Show.

What an amazing day! These pictures just barely tap into all the things we did and saw.

Joe took us to dinner at one of his old hangouts, Classics Malt Shop, a 1950's-style diner.

You'd never know these kids just met yesterday. They're going to get along great.

SD, Day 2: The Beach and The Kids

June 30, 2008

A breakfast of toast, cereal, orange juice, hot tea, and coffee at the hotel buffet, filled us up as our second day began.

Fueled up and ready for the big day -- and by "big day" I mean the day Joe sees his kids again, and the day I meet my future stepkids -- we drove out to Imperial Beach. Just 4 miles from the Mexican border, IB is popular for surfing, and is home to the annual US Open Sandcastle Competition. It wasn’t quite 11:00 yet, so we wandered around the small town, sightseeing and soaking up the sun in the salty air.

Wow, man! What is that? Why, that’s Surfhenge! This totally wicked sculpture, dedicated on July 18, 1999, welcomes all visitors at the IB Pier Plaza. And look at these radical benches! They look like real surfboards, dude.

At the beach we waded the shallows, searched for pretty shells, and watched morning surfers ride the waves. As I reached down to pick up a sand dollar, the waves teasingly splashed up onto my capris!! I was soaked up to my waist.

(right: At Bibbey's Shell Shop. Read this cool article about it: http://www.signonsandiego.com/news/2009/jan/17/1sz17bibbeys2079-shell-sales-seashore-suit-owner/ )

I love the beach; it brings back memories of family vacations to the Florida Panhandle and the Gulf of Mexico. I love the sand, the ocean, the seashells, the sun… I can almost hear Jimmy Buffett now:

Mother, mother ocean, I have heard your call.
Wanted to sail upon your waters since I was 3 feet tall.
You’ve seen it all….

We strolled out on the pier, between fishermen to the left and right, fishing for their morning catch. At the end of the pier we stopped in at The Tin Fish for an early lunch.

******

We met John and Jodie at their Grandma’s house. I was nervous about how the family would receive me. Joe was apprehensive about seeing his kids again. He was happy but didn’t know what to expect. He hadn’t seen them in 2 years, and was worried about what they’d been through as their mother lived her last days.

But we were met with open arms. “How are you? How was your trip? Good to see you again, Joe! It’s so nice to meet you, Melanie.” John was friendly. Jodie was bashful. Hesitantly I sat on the couch, my jeans still wet from waves splashing up on them. I met Grandma, aunts, uncles, cousins, even the dog.

“John, Jodie, have you met your new brother Nathan?” Grandma introduced the kids. Nathan bonded with them immediately.

My eyes teared up when I saw the box of their mother’s ashes, displayed sentimentally upon a shelf. “I’m so sorry for your daughter,” I said to Grandma. I was so sad for her, and her mother, even if she was my fiance’s ex.

I could see what a close family they were, and I hated the thoughts of tearing the kids away from them, their home, even their beloved dog Eddie. San Diego was all they’d ever known. “The kids will be well-taken care of,” I assured them, before we left. I tried to put myself in their place, and I knew they must be sad to lose the children, but were putting up a strong front for their sake.

******

Leaving Imperial Beach, we spent a few hours at the Chula Vista Mall where we picked up an early dinner of tacos, burritos, and nachos at Jose’s Mexican Grill (not me; I was still full from The Tin Fish). That’s where I heard of horchata for the first time. It’s a Mexican drink, made with rice, milk, vanilla, and cinnamon. Tastes like a milkshake to me.

Joe’s plan for the week is for everybody to have FUN! He took us to Mission Beach. Clumps of seaweed dotted the beach, and the air was a bit too breezy and cool for me. It was nothing like Imperial Beach; it’s too busy and commercialized to really relax.

Mission Beach is much more than just a beach; it’s home to Belmont Park, billed as San Diego’s Beachfront Amusement Park and Entertainment Center. Besides that, you can browse rows and rows of shops selling everything from beachwear to postcards to souvenir shirts to ice cream.

What a day! Back at the hotel room it’s almost bedtime. The kids swam in the pool, played computer games, and in general had a great time. Things are getting off to a good start!