Monday, May 30, 2016

Fixing Grandma's table


Both of my grandmothers died in the mid-1960s, when I was an adolescent.  My grandfathers died much earlier.

I have few memories of any of them.  They were all in their 40s when they had my parents--both the youngest in the family.  And all four had been used up by the Depression by the time I came along.

My grandmother on my mother's side tripped over a pig guard in their gate when I was a child.  After that she went into a nursing home where she lay there until she died, about 10 years later I believe.  She didn't need to live there because of physical reasons---she was just beat.  Done.  We would visit her once a year, and I and my sister would spend a few minutes with her until our mother said we could go outside and play.  We didn't know what else to do.

This grandmother's husband, my grandpa on my mother's side, was someone I remember well, even though he died when I was about five years old.  When I would visit he would wake me early in the morning, warm my clothes over the coal-burning stove, and take me out to do chores with him.  The memories of going out with him in those cold Iowa mornings are so strong, and meaningful, 65 years later.  I want to know my grandpa, a man who lost everything in the Great Depression and who never recovered.

My other grandfather was an alcoholic who I met only a couple of times, living in a single-room apartment in Omaha.  He too died when I was about five years old.  My father dutifully went to visit him, although he did very little for my father.  My father slept in the same room as his mother for years as a boy to protect his mother from his abuse by his father.  How did this affect my father?  I'll never know, although he dedicated his life, successfully I might add, in every way, to making sure this was not his children's lives.  My dad.  Gone now. And my mother too.

His mother, in my father's eyes, was a saint.  When my father went to war after the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor he sent her money every month.  When he returned home, she gave it all back to him--saving it all for him, even though she lived in abject poverty and could have used the money on herself.  So, he turned around and used the money to build her a bathroom in her home, the only one she ever had, and gave her running water so that washing clothes for the rich people in town would be easier for her.

But I never really knew her.  She had so little to give emotionally by the time my sister Kathy and I came along.  Pictures I have of her at that time show her as so solemn.  There was probably little joy, ever, in her life.  Struggles.  Heartbreak.  She lost two children--one an infant, and another when she was a young woman.  That young woman's husband left their child with my grandma who raised him to be a grateful son.

I have a few of her possessions.  That's remarkable because she had only a few.  I remember hearing a story about a piece of furniture that she obtained in Omaha that, when brought back to her home in Carson, Iowa, had been damaged by a rope that tied it to the car.  She cried when she saw the damage.  She probably had so few nice things, and this one was damaged before it even arrived in her home.  It probably represented her life.  This story stuck with me, since my childhood.  My father tried to give her nice things after the war when he could afford to. 

One piece of furniture of hers, an end table, had been in pieces for years.  I decided this summer to see if I could salvage it and bring it back to life.  One piece needed repair by someone with a woodworking shop, so that was done last year.

I set to work on it.








It was a challenge to fix the legs, as there was really no place to attach them.  But I found a solution.

And now it is in our home, and every time I look at it I will think of her.

How I wish I could talk with her.  I want so much to find out what her life was like.  She died when I was a young adolescent, and I didn't think of those things then.  What adolescent does?

What did she do as a child?  Where did she meet my grandfather?  What stories does she remember about my father as a child, as an adolescent, etc.?

But, alas, these things are no longer knowable.

It reminds me of the final lines of the Replicant Roy, in Blade Runner, one of my top 10 movies of all time:

I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears...in...rain.

These memories my grandmother had are lost in time, like tears....in....rain.

I love the Grandma I never knew, and never will.

Friday, May 27, 2016

Light 'em up!


One of the great side benefits of growing older is that you become increasingly able to be weird and nobody can do anything about it.  You just don't care.

We do something that we have never seen in the cycling world, a strategy we use to maintain safety.

We light ourselves up in a ridiculous fashion.  We also have several video recorders going all of the time, in case a vehicle comes too close. We will report you!

Between the two of us we have 12 lights, front and back.  My rationale is that if one works, 12 will work better.  And if one doesn't work, then maybe 12 will.  And four cameras.  That's not a typo.  Told you it's weird, and also told you we don't care.  As long as our grandchildren like us that's about all we need, and they are too young to know we are weird, and when they get older that will be a badge of honor.  Really, who wants a normal grandparent? 

Our fear is from drivers who are texting.   So we want to visible from a greater distance to be able to catch their attention before they write that all-important text.....illegally I might add.

We have a number of strategies to communicate when there are vehicles or other hazards.  We practice and practice our hand signals and our verbal ones.  Two people watching the road doubles the chances of avoiding a potential danger.  Other policies:  We don't ride when it is dark or raining.  We are careful at intersections, and we ride on roads that curve whenever possible (it is harder for people to text on curving roads).  We have rear view mirrors, and I watch every vehicle as it passes to make sure it sees us.  We also don't make 180 degree turns on roads--instead we stop, check both directions, and then turn around.  

And, did I mention, that we have ahead of us and behind of us on video recorders?  This is the age where everything is recorded, so that 1/10 of 1% of drivers who are dangerous are going to have the privilege of having the Sheriff watch their driving.

Here are a few videos of how we look all decked out:





Saturday, May 21, 2016

Update on our baby Juncos


We enjoy sitting on our back porch watching mom and dad Junco taking care of their hatchlings.

One or the other will sit on the garden fence and "click."  Are these warnings or are they ways of signalling the other parent to the area?



Then they fly away for awhile, or go hunt on the ground beneath our feeders.  Then they fly into the flower basket so quickly that we can't get a photo of them coming or going.

At times they sit above the nest.  Guarding it?






The babies are doing well.  It appears there were four eggs and now three little guys.



Mom and dad taking a break together.  Being a parent of babies is hard work!


Bird season is in full bloom on Whidbey Island

Usually it is the middle of May when our yard becomes an aviary.  Their sounds are so loud that around 4:30 a.m. we have to close our bedroom windows or we can't sleep.  It's wonderful.

We sit and watch them for hours.  And make several trips to the feed store for food for them.  We get them only the best.  They count on us.

One bird that frequently arrives is the red-breasted sapsucker, a type of woodpecker.  We don't see these during the winter, as they are migratory birds.

This year we put up a bat house on one of our trees, and immediately the sapsucker headed for it.  We can't figure out why because there is no sap or insects in it.

What's cool is that his pecking on it is magnified.  Inside the bat house are a couple of chambers, so it is hollow.  When it pecks on it the sound travels all through our house.  Why he is doing this is a mystery, but it's a fun sound of nature.



Our evening grosbeaks are also here now.  These lovely birds are a deep yellow with white and black. This photo, which isn't a good one of them, shows a male and a female.



Goldfinches are everywhere.  Vicky caught a western tanager approaching a feeder, also showing a couple of goldfinches eating.


Thursday, May 19, 2016

Northern Flickers' mating dance

Amazing to see.

And they weren't very self conscious about allowing us to watch.  



 











Get a room!



Saturday, May 14, 2016

Our Western Tanager comes to Whidbey Island to celebrate our anniversary


Each spring we look forward to the arrival of the tropical birds from the south.  Our favorite is the Western Tanager.  This brightly-colored bird is slightly larger than the Goldfinch, but is a similar yellow and black.  What distinguishes the Tanager is that it has a red head which, as the season progresses, gets even a deeper shade.

A beautiful bird, and our favorite.

We have been looking at our feeders every day to watch for its arrival, and yesterday it graced us with its first appearance of the year.  We were very pleased, and thought it was a sign from the birds that they wanted to celebrate the 5-year anniversary of our first date with this gift!  They are very considerate in that fashion.  They should be with all of the money we spend on their food.



On our first date five years ago we went to Buck's American Cafe in Everett, and then to one of Noreen's dances at the Normana Lodge.  We have re-created this date each year. by re-creating the event.  We walked in the door last night, and Noreen said:  "It's your anniversary!"  Here we are this year.  Don't we look happy?  We are.



We don't have photos of us dancing, but we made a dance video yesterday in honor of our first dance practice session which we had the day before our first date.  It's 30 minutes long, and I can't imagine anyone wants to see it except us (although we did foist it on our families, and they were very kind).

Anyway, here it is, in the event you are bedridden for several months and are all caught up on your favorite TV shows and are about to go crazy with boredom.  US DANCING


Update on our baby Juncos.  They have hatched!  We caught one photo, but stay away from the nest because we feel guilty about their parents clucking at us.



This is the flower basket the nest is in. 





It is truly spring on Whidbey Island when our birds arrive.  We begin the long days of wonderful sunshine.  It's truly beautiful here.

Sunday, May 8, 2016

Five year anniversary and 8000 cycling miles together


And what a perfect ride for it.  The Inland Empire in Richland, WA.  This is our fourth time doing this ride.

We like it so much because of two features:  Weber Canyon and Horse Heaven Hills.

The ride starts in Richland and travels along a nice highway to Benton City. At Benton City one begins a 7-mile ascent up Weber Canyon.  It isn't particularly steep, but it is a steady climb, and a beautiful one.

Then one has about a 7-mile ride along a high mesa above the Columbia River (Horse Heaven Hills, we believe it is called).

Then the ride descends into Prosser, takes the old Inland Empire Highway back to Benton City, and then goes back to Richland.

The ride is about 73 miles, but we didn't want to do that many miles because wind was predicted.

What we did was reasoned that since the two best parts are in the first 25 miles, why not do that part twice?  So we did the ride as an out and back.  Got to go up Weber Canyon and down it.  Go along the upper mesa Horse Heaven Hills, and then back to see it from a completely different direction. 

It was wonderful, and a perfect-for-us at our stage of training this time of year of 50 miles and 2000 feet of elevation gain.

Here we are at the top of Weber Canyon:



where we ran into Jules and Dale:


What was special was that during our ascent up Weber Canyon we passed our 8000 mile mark of riding together, starting from when we first got to know each other.  This is equivalent to riding from Whidbey Island to Key West, Florida, and back, and then getting to Rock Springs, Wyoming (ever heard of it?) on another loop.

Here is part of the ride down Weber Canyon, taken with my nifty new Fly6 Camera:




And a short clip of us at the top of the canyon, riding along Horse Heaven Hills:



Here is a shot from my Fly6 of Vicky.  Isn't she great?



This week begins our fifth anniversary of getting to know each other.  On this day, five years ago, I asked Vicky if she'd like to be my dance partner and practice dancing together (clever fellow that I am—I mean, what woman is going to say no to that?).  Five days later was our first, and only, date.  And we were in love. A week later we were engaged.  More on that later…

And now we are on top of Weber Canyon on our 8,000th mile of cycling together!

Today's ride marked some important events in our lives, and what a beautiful ride to do that on.


Monday, May 2, 2016

Our private birds' nest

A couple of days after planting and hanging our flower baskets Vicky noticed a nest in one. A few minutes later she was being dive bombed by a couple of Juncos. 

So, we'll leave it alone.  The flowers will probably not make it, but the baby Juncos should!

How cool.