A toast to you, Gail. You're 50!

My little sister is 50!

September 27th is Gail's 50th birthday. It would be great if you popped over to her blog which is linked here, Tattoome, and send her a birthday wish...

I remember when my mom went into the hospital to have Gail, she made sure she left a gift for Lin and me. It was the Poor, Pitiful Pearl doll and, man, I loved that doll. In fact a few years ago I paid some ridiculous amount on Ebay to get that doll back again. (The doll is in the toy room for the grandkids now and they never got my excitement about that homely sweet doll.)

So Gail, a toast to you! 50 more wonderful years.

The Signs of Aging...

Do you know the signs of aging?

When I saw the ad the other night in O magazine, I laughed. If you look close, you can see that if you are still holding the little rectangular McCormick spice boxes, they are more than 15 years, yes, 15 years old! Throw them out. I pulled mine out, still in the neat alphabetical order I keep them in. Even more ridiculous, on the underside of several of them was the handwriting of my kids with the "price" they wrote on the tins when they played store. These could have been played with by Greg and Chris who are now 38 and 36. Those spices could be 30 years old! I should put them on Ebay as vintage spices. But alas, I think I will just throw these spices out; you might say they are "Old Spice", my dad's favorite mens cologne. And that's how I really know the signs of aging...plenty reading this will have never heard of Old Spice.

This is just an odd little post. I am well, now at Day 51 as a non smoker. Grief Support has just started again and as always, hearing of the fresh grief of so many is hard. Saturday is the start of Sonlight with my young African refugee kids and I am really excited about seeing them all again; grandson Denver is going to be joining me. Is that a sign of aging where you want to make sure your grandkids catch your vision? I know a real sign of aging. On the Fast Track bus going into church when 6 year old Maya sits next to me, she loves to stroke the soft mushy skin on the underneath part of my upper arm. Anyone over 50 knows of this flappy arm-wing thing. I can clearly remember petting my own grandma's soft mushy arm. What I don't remember is my grandma immediately flexing her biceps like I do to Maya. Who's aging? Me?

These three obviously do not know how to act their age.

Pete with Aunt Myrt and Uncle Walt. Sweet!

My new Facebook picture...cool hat.

Boys in camo, girls in cute shoes!

Chris goes a-traveling...

Son Chris has been in Southeast Asia for a business trip. He was able to meet up with Greg and Cheryl in Bangkok for a brief 23 hour visit. I know my boys and they always have a wildly fun time. They also share the weird habit of calling the brother's wife "sheep" or "sheepie". Chris copied us on his thank you to G and C and I found it so hilarious (and exhausting) I wanted to include it here. Chris is the non-blogger son and I did get his okay before I posted this.


Greg and Sheep,

First of all, I want to thank you for a most excellent whirlwind tour of Bangkok. As usual, we always have an excellent time. The Suan Laum (sp? please correct me) was totally cool. The jazz lounge, tasty eats, strong coffee, hanging out in an internet cafe, Cabbages and Condoms, and, of course, the Tuk-Tuk ride that went a bit too long. All was great.

Let me recount my race to the airport. I am astonished... ASTONISHED that I'm sitting in this airplane seat right now. Here is what happened:
- Hopped in cab. I felt bad that I couldn't give you a real hug goodbye.
- As soon as the cab pulled away, the driver signaled that he had no idea where he was going.
- "Airport". He said something like, "Hwan earport" repeatedly. "Airport". I didn't know the proper name of the airport. I had hoped you had covered this detail. He pulled over twice to slowly confer in two mismatched languages. Nothing that I had in my possession signaled an acceptable response. I'm freaking out. It is 3:45 and we haven't pulled away from the hotel more than a couple of blocks. I tried anything in my bag of tricks. "international", "Mumbai", "Bangkok to Mumbai", "Cathay Pacific", "Fly", "Big", "5 on clock"..... Couldn't reach you for any help. Eventually, he just turns and drives. I hope that we're going to the right place. 35 minutes later. We're at an airport.
- 4:20 or so, the counter agent confirms all is well.
- IMMIGRATION. Not happening. The line is overflowing and there is no urgency to process anything faster than 1 person every 50+ seconds. (I know. I counted it off!) I'm at least 35 people deep. This is not going to be good. I get a cheery immigration officials attention. She assures me that I can get thru the line and to the gate in the remaining 15 mins. The consensus of people around me in line is "No Way." I ask the guy in front of me if I can go in front of him. Yes. The Japanese couple in front of them offers me to go first. I decide to go big and make a big call to jump all the way to the front. I half listened-half-ignored what everyone said as I interjected myself at the front. I slowly go thru my 50 seconds at the front. I'm thru immigration.
-RUN. I sprinted. I'm talking SPRINTED thru the airport. If I miss the flight to Mumbai, I might be out of luck for days. They're all oversold. It is hard to get there. I ran O.J. Simpson style thru airport which I can do with my bag on wheels. I know that I knocked and spun at least two people. Sorry. It turns out that gate G4 is not the furthest gate from immigration. That distinction goes to gate G5. I don't know what the cheery immigration person was thinking. At a full-sprint from immigration for 10 minutes, I barely got to the gate. It was Final Call as I neared security.
-SECURITY. The security person slowly dug thru two American ladies 3-1-1 plastic bags and relieved them of several bottles greater than 100ml. She slowly rebagged my stuff into a new 1-liter plastic bag for no other reason than it was bigger than my current plastic bag.
-FINAL sprint. One last run and I'm on the plane. Maybe 4:59:30 seconds for a 5:00pm flight. There are no spots for my bag. The purser rejuggles a bunch of stuff in business class and I'm stowed in my seat. I'm streaming down sweat, filthy, and probably the only guy on the plane in shorts and t-shirt. Who cares... I'm on the plane.

Will send pics later.

CB

I can't wait to see the pics! And, gee, I wonder why Americans are always seen as being in a big hurry?

Go here: http://gregboncimino.blogspot.com/

Says it all. Happy Birthday, Katie. I love you.

September. Is summer really over?

I feel so conflicted lately. I am trying to absorb every last minute I can wring out of summer with walks, Great America trips, outdoor dining, wearing Capris. And the weather this week has been so beautiful. But now kids are back in school, schedules are changing...

And lives are changing. "New normals" for Karen, and her family. Katie on her way to making a new plan for living arrangements. Pete's mom and dad facing health issues... gee whiz. And there are many things to celebrate in September; birthdays: Katie's, Isaiah's, my sweet friend, Diane, co-worker Russ, Josey, niece Kaitlyn, nephew-in-law, Mike, my sister Gail. And wedding anniversaries, Greg and Cheryl, the Millers. But those sad anniversaries haunt me. My dad, three years ago; my friend Debbi's husband Don, two years ago and then just last year, Ray and Sharon's daughter, 24 year old Nikki. And just a few minutes ago I realized the second of the month had just passed and I did not register how many months it has been since Laurie's death. It's thirty months.

This month will end with our team, "Laurie's Legacy" walking a 5K for suicide prevention. Several of my old small group girls, the Girlie Girls, will be walking with us. The walk will be at Busse Woods in Elk Grove Village and though not 20 miles, I am hoping that it will have just as big an impact. The funds raised are used to reach those struggling with suicidal thoughts, to teach the surviviors how to carry on.

September, I'm buckled up.

Link to Laurie's Legacy: http://www.outofthedarkness.org/index.cfm?fuseaction=communityWalks.team&teamID=2929

Our friend, John. Thanks, Karen, for the great picture.