Exciting News!

My cousin Deron received new lungs last night! Even if you don't know him, you should really check out his blog, http://deronarnold.blogspot.com/, because it's a heckuva story. I talked a little about him here, you'll recall, and posted a photo of us here (he's the one on the right).

It's such a massive surgery, and there are so many possible complications, and getting healthy donor lungs took such a long, long time. But since he was four years old (when he was diagnosed), Deron's been fighting cystic fibrosis valiantly, and in my heart I feel such relief. If anyone can recover from such a surgery, my cousin can.

Today, I will pray often (though it is not my practice anymore), thankful to the donor family, hopeful for Deron's speedy recovery, and holding my own child while I think of Deron's twin boys, who are old enough to remember today, now, and what a memory it will be for them. I will also smile often today, thinking of the joy my Aunt Sharon and Cousin Dawn and her family must be sharing in Iowa.

I hope they know just how many people are rejoicing with them today.

Gardening Mama

I want a rich, overgrown garden that looks like it's been there for a hundred years and grows effortlessly, beautifully, on its own, with vines and willow trees mixed in among corn and sunflowers and exotic lilies and wild roses.

When I win the lottery, that's one of the first things I'll do after I buy my gorgeous huge old house that's totally updated in wiring and plumbing and insulation but still has the original hardwood floors and stained glass windows: fill up a securely fenced in, expansive backyard with loads of easy to care for, self weeding plants. Oh, sorry. I digress. Sometimes I get distracted by my retirement plan. In between now and then, I'm working on our (extra shady) backyard and overly-landscaped-by-the-previous-owners-frontyard. In fact, my mama came by the other day with some hostas she'd divided from her own garden, and we put V to work with her first in-ground planting project. She helped divide the plants, choose where they would go, dig the holes, fill them in, and water. She also got dirt in her hair and my hair, and hosed off my otherwise dry sneakers and her own underpants. She is her mother's daughter, her grandmother's granddaughter, and one of my favorite gardening accomplices. I hope she appreciates stained glass as much as I do.

Happy Birthday, Emerson Claire

Her name is iambic, I think, and it's hard for me to not say it in its entirety. Like her brother, I was there when she was born, alongside my sister and across the bed from my brother-in-law. This time was much, much quicker, though, and less hard to watch, because Jess didn't hurt as much for as long. And Emmy came so fast, like once she'd decided it was time, IT WAS TIME, and we hardly had space to weep or gnash teeth. As I've detailed before, being an aunt is so important to me. Jess and I were so blessed in the aunt department, and those women continue to have such an impact on my life, that I feel honored to serve that role to V's three cousins. Jake, Beth and Chris' son, lives in Colorado (and we get to see him next month!), and Will, who first made me an aunt, are hilarious and dear to me in so many ways. But Emerson, my first niece, the sister my daughter may never have...she is something else entirely.
Maybe it's the newness of her, seeing her teeter on that cusp between baby and toddlerhood, as she wants so much to walk RIGHT NOW but instead scoots across the floor faster than we can fathom. Or the words that pour out of her, sounds and garbled sing songs, and "happy" or "puppy," whichever, both.

Maybe it's because she looks so much like Jess did as a baby, or at times looks startlingly like her Great-Aunt Sharon, a near carbon-copy through three generations.

Whatever the reason, mercy, I'm glad you're here, Emerson Claire. A happiest of first birthdays to you. I couldn't have asked for a better niece.


Emmy's real birthday is 10 July. The photos are from her party on Lake Minnie Belle. Or is it Minnie Belle Lake? I dunno. Anyway, I didn't want anyone thinking I didn't know my own niece's birthdate.

Insert Title Here

I tell my students all the time that titles are important. If As I Lay Dying were called Another Book by Faulkner, it just wouldn't be the same. Still, 90% of them don't title their first paper: it's not until they see they lose points that they step up and title their stuff. And I'm not a fan of the lame title: "Essay 2: Restaurant Review" starts me off depressed, whereas "An Evening of Horrible Disfigurments and Lifelong Disappointments" draws me in and makes me want to read on.

I know you all understand this. My thoughtful readers would certainly title their papers, wouldn't you? To show how much I appreciate this, I bring you today's offering of photos with titles. I hope they're better than "Another Picture by Jen," but I'm not making any promises.

"Meadow at Dusk With Blade of Grass"

"Cool Heron that Kinda Looks Like a Scary Guy in a Bird Costume"

"Georgia O'Keefe Can Suck My Left Toe"

"I Can Almost Hear the Natureliness"

"Even Though My Sister and I Were Both Girl Scouts for Years, It Took Us Two Hours to Build This Damn Fire."

*all but the lilies are from Lake Minnie Belle, this weekend. The lilies are from our backyard.

4 July 2009 in Twelve Photographs

So the last several fourth of July's have been spent at the in-laws lake, where we hang out, watch baseball (go Twins!), drink beer/soda/Mike's Hard Lemonade, eat a cake shaped like a flag, and spend time with the people we like the most.

This year, the weather was spectacular, the fireworks were stunning, and the company was excellent. I also had the good fortune to have a Nikon camera that takes, in my opinion, amazing photos practically by itself.This is Steve, my handsome, newly-single brother-in-law, who entertained V all weekend. We probably should pay him money for how well he kept her entertained while we napped and generally avoided parenting in most ways.

David, my father-in-law, built more than one campfire so we could have s'mores, and won at least 1/3 of all croquet games played this weekend.

Mary, my lovely mother-in-law, thought the lake breeze was a little chilly. She did most of the cooking, and went gambling with me, and doted on V when Uncle Steve wasn't entertaining her.

My mama, who wears a tube top like no one's business. She believes it's a sin if you're not outside the ENTIRE TIME you're at the lake. I'm so glad she came out for the day.

She brought her sister, my Aunt Beverly, with her. We all love Bev, and it's so cool to be at a lake with her again, like we did when I was very young and my grandparent's cabin on South Twin would fill up with the Johnson family. Will, who looks like he's about to burst into tears here but I swear was just having fun chucking rocks. He and V had fun swimming and running around and playing in the dirt.

My little sister, whose recent jaw surgery meant she couldn't eat any potato salad. She had a nice soft peanut butter sandwich, though, and went swimming with our kids. And she brought a bunch of soda pop, which means I love her the most. Hope your weekend was filled with goodness, too.

Freedom of speech

I've been fighting the misanthropy lately. Honest. In Vegas, I was sitting next to an older Japanese man at a slot machine, and I don't like to be talked to when I'm gambling. I don't gamble to socialize. But he commented on a bonus I was in, and he was funny, and for the next half an hour we had a lovely conversation about Vegas and money and 108 degree weather. So I decided I would try to be more open in my heart, and not assume all people were morons. It's been a nice month, really.

But then I go online. In our local paper, my neighbors write comments of such nastiness, hiding behind usernames and bravely, aggressively yelling at one another, that I can barely stand it. Now, I live with a contrary man, so opposing opinions do not really phase me. But these people write things so full of vitriol and hatred and racism that it makes me want to cry. And I remember again why I shut everyone I didn't know already out in the first place.

So I have to stop reading the comments. And I wish the Forum would not allow comments on some stories. But I do know people have a right to free speech, and I'm a proponent of it. I just don't want to read that kind of awfulness. It makes my heart sad to see that much ignorance, that much willingness to be cruel, in words anyway.

I gotta go find me a slot machine.

Cousins

I recently unearthed some photos that my Aunt Shirley had put together for a slide show at our wedding reception. It's fantastic, and I was glad I could figure out how to get some of the photos to transfer. Some of the originals were damaged when Shirley scanned them, because they were those weird, stiff, curled-up Polaroids or whatever film my dad was using at the time.
I remember Aunt Sharon and Uncle Gene's home based on this wallpaper, and green shag carpet, and the strangeness of a split-level home layout, which no one in my whole hometown had. Oh, and Deron and Dawn each had their own bedrooms, which I coveted terribly.

I would guess this photo is late 1974/early '75, with Dawn not yet a year, me a year and a half (in the center, with the fancy hair bow), and Deron less than 4. Does that sound right, cousins? At any rate, there is little in this world that reminds me more of the innocence of childhood than these kinds of pictures.

If it makes either of you feel too exposed, let me know, and I'll remove the post. But I hope you both know that even though it's been years since we played together, I think of you both every day.