Mrs. Rosa Parks

I’ve been watching the coverage of the funeral for Mrs. Rosa Parks, and have been surprised again at the power of one simple act of courage. It was such a simple thing; she refused to give up her seat on the bus to a white man. It was a deliberate act, and any number of really awful things could have happened to her in consequence- more awful than being arrested, I mean, which was pretty damn awful for a black person in Alabama in 1955.
Her refusal to move is said to have triggered the civil rights movement. It may have done. What it certainly did was show the economic clout of a segment of the population no one seemed to know had any. The 381-day bus strike in Montgomery HURT, and a new, powerful weapon joined the fight for equality- the dollar.
I don’t think Ms. Parks knew she was triggering an economic revolution when she refused to give up that seat, but she surely knew it was a political act. She was a smart, dignified woman, and she had a lot of courage. I don’t know that I could have done what she did if our roles and lives had been reversed.
It would be nice if courage were as contagious as fear.

Ah, San Diego!

Y’know, San Diego is a strange sort of place. It looks so lush and so green that you forget it is sitting in a desert. It looks green and lush because of watering systems providing the water Nature generally does not. Scoot two feet out of watered spaces and you see what San Diego must have looked like to the indigenous peoples and Catholic priests of its distant past. The operative word here is brown.

It is interesting to hear about a city while you are in it. The big San Diego news this week has been the two earthquakes, and the incredible three day storm.

Theoretically, there were two earthquakes this week. You couldn’t tell by me. I only found out about them listening to the news. Not that I cherish BEING in an earthquake, mind you- I have been here for two that were noticeable, and I noticed I didn’t like them- but there is something both disappointing and anachronistic about earthquakes you have to hear about on the news. If they haven’t really quaked anything, are they really earthquakes?

The other big news was the storm, and I did notice that. I noticed it wasn’t a storm, at least not by Tennessee water volume and pyrotechnic standards. What we had for the last three days were dynamically cloudy skies and semi-continuous soft, gentle rain. Perfect rain, really. Steady but not so heavy that it drenched you from car to house. Just the right size droplets; not so tiny that they felt like little needles hitting your skin but not big ploppers, either. The sound of the falling water was gentle and seductive. My daughter Kelly, who is a rain connoisseur, would have been in paroxysms of joy over it.

This was a prolonged rain shower, not a storm, and dropped less than an inch of water in three days. It had little impact on the well watered places, but the neglected remnants of the desert that really is San Diego wallowed in the rain, drank in the rain, bathed in the rain, used rain to make chlorophyll and chlorophyll to make green.

Maybe San Diego is a metaphor. No matter how lush things may appear, we are all living on the edge of a desert. Or maybe not. One thing is certain; there is nothing more beautiful than the desert after a three day rain shower. And that could be a metaphor as well. Ah, San Diego.

Mama in the Golden State

Of all the things I forgot on this trip… how did I remember Mama?

     We have been in San Diego for one day short of a week, and except for the gorgeous weather and scenery, we might as well be home.  Stand by for the second edition of “The Same Thing Happens Every Time.”

     Mama did very well on the flight out.  She refused a wheelchair, though, and Dave finally got a full-blown taste of Mother in action.  Or, to be completely accurate, inaction.  If her elbows could propel her body forward, she’d be sprinting but her feet only move about half their length with each stride, and she has size 6 feet!  We looked like a Chinese family on parade- Papa in the distant lead, wife ten paces behind, mother 130 paces behind her.  Wife periodically stops for Mama, but Dave stops for no one.  As soon as he has outdistanced us by half a mile, he notices he is alone and slows down… and so does Mama.  Somehow the gaps never seem to close.

     Before we left home, Mama and I both had our eyes examined.  I am now wearing SOFT contacts and I love them.  Instead of wearing glasses all the time and taking them off to read, I wear contacts all the time and only need glasses to read- and simple, cheap-o magnifying glasses at that, the kind you can get for $15 at any drugstore, so if I lose them, no whoop!  On the other hand, Mama’s vision has not changed one jot since her last exam, so she did not need new glasses.  The doctor did inform her, in my presence, that she has macular degeneration but that it had not worsened in the last year.  
Mama asked me to explain what macular degeneration meant.  I explained.  She immediately went into a deep depression and began obsessing about going blind.  It was heart-breaking.  I spent the weeks before we came out here trying to comfort her and reassure her, listening to all the various scenarios of blindness she came up with and feeling genuinely sorry for her.  
I started to get a little suspicious when all of a sudden she could no longer read, she could not see to cut her meat or recognize the food on her plate.  She was walking into walls and bumping into furniture… when it suddenly occurred to me that the doctor had said that her vision HAD NOT CHANGED SINCE HER LAST EXAM.  That was two years ago!  I spoke to the doctor and found out that Mama was first diagnosed with macular degeneration in… wait for it…1994!   Here I was thinking this was news, and bad news, for her and she’s known about the condition for 11 years.  Guess she just forgot.  She may go blind, if she lives to be 90, which I am sure she will, but for the record, she’s no blinder now than she was two years ago.

     Along with going blind, Mama has now decided that she is going deaf as well.  Example:  We get out of the elevator on the parking garage level to go to the car.  As we exit the elevator, I tell her “Go left”.  She goes straight and walks into the wall.  I ask her “What are you doing?”  She says “I can’t see.”  I say, “You can hear, can’t you?  I told you to go left!”  She says “What?  I can’t hear you.”

     Bear in mind that Mama is fighting a nasty cold and so is not feeling 100%.  With that caveat, this is what we have done in San Diego so far.

• We have watched the Western channel.  Every day.  Every hour.  If she falls asleep and I change the channel, she wakes up. Once I turn it back to the Western channel, she falls asleep.  It’s more effective than Sominex.


• We have gone to the grocery store twice.  


• We have gone to K-Mart.  She bought a nightie.  She forgot to pack one.


• We have done one small mall crawl which wore her out completely and had lunch at Ruby’s Diner.  Mama LOVED the strawberry shake, but I am throwing out her doggie bag- which contained her entire lunch from Ruby’s-today.


• We took her out to dinner last night.  I will throw her doggie bag from Black Angus out in a few days.

I ask, ”Mama, want to go to the zoo?  Old Town? The Del? Balboa Park? The beach?  Want to sit on the balcony?”  No, thank you very much.  She spends her days in her room, just like she does at home.  She squirrels treats and junk food in her room just like she does at home.  She sneaks into the kitchen to raid the refrigerator when she thinks we are asleep, and so has no appetite when we are awake.  She sleeps all day and then roams the apartment like a ghost all night.  Maybe this will change when she feels better.  At least she has enjoyed the palms and citrus trees in the complex.  Sigh.
     Dave can entertain her this weekend.
     I’ll stay 10 paces behind… going in the other direction.

The Day of Incredible Brain Farts

It is beautiful in San Diego today, if a bit warm.  It feels weird being here after such a long absence.  Coming into the apartment again after almost three months away was surprisingly pleasant- though my absence has emphasized the difference between tidy and clean.  (  Well, it was clean enough; Dave did a pretty good job keeping on top of things, other than dusting, scrubbing tubs and toilets…  We make a good team in a home; he is Mr. Tidy and I am Mrs. Clean.  Between us, we keep a very nice house/apartment.
As nice as it is to be here, I realized quite quickly that all I had really missed in San Diego was my home office.  I have a great office here, perfect in size, situation, and economically and functionally equipped.  I have the perfect desk from Pottery Barn with a matching credenza- fabuloso! I have my easel and paints set up in the corner, a crafting table sitting perpendicular to the desk and still have ample space to dance and cavort.  A wonderful abstract by my niece Melissa is on one wall, my diplomas on another, and pictures of my goonie girls on a third.  The fourth wall is a bank of windows which are letting in a cool breeze as I type.  A glorious citrus scent is on the air.  I could live in this office and be happy.
We brought Mama with us this trip, and despite a terrible cold, she was quite the trooper on the flight out.  She has been sick in bed since we got here, but I took her out for a little outing yesterday and she did very well.  We went to Michael’s for craft supplies and then the Ruby’s Diner for lunch.  Best shakes and club sandwiches on the planet!  Seriously.  Mama finished her shake, but her lunch, minus one bite, came home with us in a box.  About a week from now, I will throw it into the trash.  Sigh.  
I am assiduously working on Christmas already, via the Internet.  Two years ago, I did my entire Christmas shopping online.  I loved it.  I will do the majority of my shopping online again this year.  I figure the shipping and handling can’t be worse than the cost of gas spent going from shop to shop.   I am also working on birthday scrapbooks for Haley, who will be NINE on October 24th, and Emily, who will be two on November 3rd.  God, they grow up fast.  
I am enjoying being here, but I miss my dollhouse. (See previous posts).  My good friend Yvonne is house-sitting for me while I am gone, and informs me that packages have arrived in my absence.  I love packages.  Several came just as we were leaving on Saturday, and it was all I could do to keep from opening them right then and there.  Dave was impatiently tapping his foot… hell, he was stomping with impatience… so I passed on the pleasure of opening treasures.  
Which, as it turns out, was a good thing. One more delay and we might never have gotten to San Diego.  Why?  Because I had a bad case of absent mind.  Last Saturday will go down in the annals of my life as the DAY OF THE CONTINUAL BRAIN FARTS!
Yes, my brain farts.  I am the queen of farts.  
It started with my discovery, just as we were about to merge onto the Interstate, that I did not have my purse with me.  Imagine Dave’s delight!  We turned around, drove back home, and I went in to retrieve my purse, only to find that I had failed to lock the door when we’d left the first time.  Once inside, I realized I had forgotten to pack my insulin, so I grabbed that and ran, because there was a good chance we were now going to miss our flight, and Dave was literally vibrating with frustration.
I did make sure the door was locked when I exited this time, but while driving to the airport in silence, I found myself wondering if I had left my bedroom window open.  I wondered about it while sitting in the airport waiting for our plane (we made it- Dave set a new land speed record).  I wondered about it on the cramped flight to Dallas.  I wondered as we sat in DFW, the world’s most hateful airport, during our four hour flight delay.  I wondered about it on the cab ride to the apartment.  I emailed Yvonne to check it out for me, and sure enough, the window was wide open.  Locked doors, open window- now that’s security!  I wonder how I manage to survive sometimes.  I am going to sit here quietly for a few days until the cerebral indigestion passes. Talk amongst yourselves until then.

News from Lake Soonbegone

Off we go to San Diego again, this time taking David’s mother with us. Hope she handles the traveling all right. Should be interesting getting there- and being there.

It’s been interesting here in the couple of weeks or so since my last posting.
In that time-

• My good friend Sandie barely survived a triple by-pass surgery with innumerable complications. Knees all over Middle Tennessee have been rubbed raw from praying, but I saw her today, and she looks as good as anyone can after an ordeal like that. Thanks be to God! And what a trouper she is! I don’t mind telling you, I was really scared we were going to lose her. She’s not out of the woods yet- two of the three bypasses have collapsed and they had to put a stent in the major coronary artery- so she may have further surgery in her future, but for now, she is home, she is clear-headed, and she’s alive. And where there’s life, there’s hope.

• A few blogs ago I wrote about the “By Cracky Bars” my mom used to make, and my delight in finding the 1953 Pillsbury Bake-Off Cookbook that contains the recipe through Barnes and Noble’s out-of-print book service. http://www.bn.com/ (By the way, the cookbook originally cost 25 cents; it cost me $21.29 to replace it. Well, it is technically an antique now.) The little book has arrived, and I almost cried when I saw the cover showcasing the $25,000 winning recipe for Snappy Turtle Cookies. Mama made those a couple of times, too. Anyway, I turned to page 48 and there, one of the few cookies photographed in color, were the By Cracky Bars, just as I remember them. Their recipe won second place in the junior contest for Miss Yvonne M. Whyte of New Bedford, Massachusetts. There is a picture of her holding a check for $2,000. In 1953, Miss Whyte was an attractive, young- possibly teen-aged- black woman with tortoise shell glasses and a shy smile. I wonder if she is still alive? How old would she be now? She appears so young in the picture, I imagine she was majoring in home ec when she developed this most wonderful of cookie recipes. She really understands chocolate, by the way. And, at the insistence of my daughter, I am posting her recipe. Enjoy!

By Cracky Bars
(Bowl One: Dry ingredients)
Sift together…. 1¾ cups flour
1 teaspoon salt
¼teasoon soda

(Bowl Two: Creamed Mixture)
Blend together…. ¾ cup shortening
1 cup sugar, creaming well
Add,,,, 2 eggs, beating well


(Bowl Three: Liquids)
Combine… 1/3 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla.
Add the liquid alternately with the dry ingredients to the creamed mixture.

Divide the batter. Place 1/3 of the batter in a bowl with 1 oz. melted chocolate and ¾ cup chopped walnuts. Spread in two well-greased 8x8x2 pans or one 13x9x2 pan.

Arrange…. 9 double graham crackers over the batter in the pan(s).

To the remaining 2/3 of the batter, add ¾ cup chocolate chips. Drop by spoonfuls over graham crackers and spread to cover.

Bake in 375 degrees oven 20-25 minutes. Cool on rack. Cut into bars when cool.

Damn! I can taste them already. One hint- do NOT over cook or they will be dry.
Thanks, Miss Whyte, wherever you are.

• Today I got a belated birthday present from my baby sister Susie. In it was my mother’s old Home Companion Cook Book, a manila envelope full of hand written recipes as well as recipes cut from newspapers and magazines, and…. THE 1953 PILLSBURY BAKE-OFF COOKBOOK! Susie read my blog, went digging around, found Mama’s copy and sent it to me. The first thing I did was smell it to see if it still smelled like vanilla, but sadly it does not. Its cover is missing and its pages are loose, but it was Mama’s and now it’s mine. What a sweet sister I have, and what a great birthday present.

• My hubby bought our daughter a new car this week. It is sitting in my driveway, a gleaming, sleek temptation, waiting for Kel to come get it, and singing a siren song to me. I sooo want to take it on a road trip, but know how I would feel if someone else was tooling around in my new car before I got a chance to play with it, so am restraining myself. This may not last. Kel better get here quick!

• Hard on the heels of knee surgery that took her out of play comes my housekeeper Stephanie’s two-week vacation, which means I have been left to my own devices in my house for almost a month. It shows. I am going to make a serious attempt at housekeeping tomorrow, but I ask you- if I was any good at this, would I have needed a housekeeper in the first place? Due to post-polio effects and the after-effects of four herniated vertebral discs, there are a lot of things I am not supposed to do- like vacuuming, for example- that I am having to do, but I am being careful. A little at a time, a little each day… oh, who am I kidding? I make messes at twice the rate I can clean them. I need HELP!!! I am a cleaner, not a tidier!

• My ancient (18.5 years old) black tabby Shadow has had what I took to be an eye infection. Her right eye was swollen and weeping, so I stopped by the vet’s, described her symptoms and brought home some antibiotic eye cream, which I assiduously applied to her eye twice a day for about 5 days. When I saw no improvement, I took her in to the vet. Guess what? Not a thing wrong with her eye. She has an abscessed tooth! Poor thing, in terrible pain from a bad tooth, and her “mama” is putting cream in her eye. Good thing she has a bad tooth, or she would have bitten me. Now I am feeling both like a damn fool and a cat torturer. How has she survived this long in my care?

Well, that’s all the news that fits. I am still having a wonderful time with my doll house, and add little touches almost daily. One good shrinking potion for me, and I’ll be ready to move in. Don’t laugh… but I tuck the children into their beds every night.
On that note, I will close, because I can hear you laughing.