Who wants them?

The rare occasion the room is clean

I think everyone who knows me knows I scrapbook. I scrapbook a lot. Like weekly. Scrapping is my creative outlook and being in the scrapbook room resets my brain somehow and I feel like I’m ready for work again.

By scrapping every weekend, you end up with a lot of scrapbooks. That coupled with being a scrapper since 1998, you get a lot of scrapbooks. Scrapbooking started as a way to share your family stories with the future. Your kids. Your grandkids etc. The Mormons started it as a way of storytelling and ancestry.

I use scrapbooking to tell my stories. My everyday life. The cats. Trips. The past. Everything.  It’s a way to document memories, special moments, and milestones in a creative and personalized way. The result is a wonderful collection of memories displayed on beautiful pages that tell stories.

One question in the scrapbook community that has been passing through social media is “what happens to these scrapbooks after you’re gone?” “Who gets them?” Will they be saved? Or discarded?

As you can imagine, there are a dozen and one opinion about this. Scrapbooking is very personal, and the reason people do it is very personal. What’s normally a friendly community is really getting all up in arms over what some people (like me) think about this.

In the world of scrappers who have kids, their plan is that these beautiful books get passed down. Because they hold a great deal of sentimental value it’s thought that the remaining family will want to cherish them. And they very well may. This, I would say, is what the majority of scrappers assume will happen with their scrapbooks. Hell, I used to believe this.

The truth is it’s very likely that the Niece or anyone who’s left after I go are not going to want my scrapbooks. There are a lot of them. And here’s the reality I had to get to, that’s ok.

Turns out, I scrapbook for me. I assume 100% that they will be tossed (maybe donated?) when I’m gone. And I’m ok with that. I scrap for my enjoyment and peace of mind now. The present. This, as you can imagine, is not a popular thought among die-hard scrappers. I’ve gotten some not so nice comments and some trying to talk me into changing my mind about what will happen to my books. The thing is, I’ll be gone. I have ZERO control over what happens to them. Would I be sad if they got tossed? Nope. I’m dead. Would I prefer someone to enjoy them and, at least for a moment, look through them and marvel at the life I had? Yes, absolutely yes. If I’m being honest, I’d actually like them to look through them and say, “My god she was a talented scrapper.” But most likely they’ll say, “My god she spent a lot of $$ on scrapbooking.”

Regardless of what happens with them, or what we want to happen to them, we won’t be here. Which is why I enjoy them now. I enjoy the process (gosh I’m shocked I enjoy a process) of scrapping. I love touching all the doo dads and finding a perfect spot for them on a page. I love to look back through my albums and do the “Remember when…” conversation. I love when friends and family look through them and learn something new about me or something I wrote. To be cliché, it completes me. It makes me a better person because I get to be creative and get my brain to reset every week.

A very pleasant surpise

Today didn't start out too well. I had a Mammo appt this morning at 8:40 am. I set out on my way to get there and have plenty of time. First, I had a hard time finding the front door to get in. Then when I did, I was told my appt was at another location. 

Let me back up a little. My appointment was supposed to be for Thursday. But I had to reschedule it. Oddly when I called, they had an opening almost immediately on Saturday. So I took it. Now, the person who rescheduled me didn't say anything about a change in location. I assumed I was booked where I was previously booked. I was not. 

So I missed the appointment. That just put me in a bad mood. I swear everything I touched from there on out just didn't feel right. I ran over a curb at the grocery store. I cut my finger when getting seran wrap out. Spilled wax from a candle on my stove top. I could go on. 

In an attempt to get my mind out of the sour mood I decided to do some scrapbooking. I did a couple of pages and then decided I wanted to review photos from San Francisco 2008 - which is the next conversion I'm doing. 

As I was going through the photos I came across a video I took of the cable car turn around in downtown SF. I thought I'd play the video for fun. 

I was stunned immediately. On the video is mom talking. I had to stop for a moment. I haven't heard her voice for 6 years. I watched that video a dozen times to just hear her voice.

I won't lie, I may have teared up a little. 

What a gift I found. I will treasure this forever now. 

Happy Father's Day

These are the days that my brain perks up and floods me with memories. It's a special day for many to share their love for their Dad and show him how much he means to you. 

When you're a "fatherless" daughter on this day, all you have are memories. 

"Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal." - Richard Puz

I've really noticed that with the passing of loved ones, you really do only have memories. And your brain seems to only dish up the good ones. I'm well aware there are bad ones in there, but thankfully my brain is protecting me, I suppose, from the bad ones and giving me the opportunity to remember the strong, positive, loving memories. 

I miss Dad a lot. I miss what he represented in my life - a strong, firm, fair, loving hand guiding me to become a value to the world. He did this by tough love, support, providing advice - whether asked for or not, living by example, sharing his knowledge, sharing his love for food, and sharing his curiosity about the world that gave me the desire to travel. He was so much more than all these things, but these are the qualities and values I remember the most. 

He had his moments though. Don't we all? He could be so very stubborn (a quality he didn't appreciate in me). His argumentative side came out once in a while and there was no "winning" or even having an adult conversation when he was in that state (usually after several drinks). It was frustrating, at times, to try to get him to see the world the way it is and not have him demand it stay the was. He loved the old way of life and wasn't interested in change. 

Still, those "qualities" taught me a lot about myself. I often wonder if those traits annoyed me so much because I might have had/have some of them. That's a post for another time I suppose. 

Still, all the good and bad, I miss this man a lot. Every time I light up the BBQ or travel the world he's there with me. All the glorious memories I was able to make with him remain with me. And while life took him away from me, nothing can take these memories. 

Taken in 1978 in Iran. This photo was taken before he was my dad.
The smile was likely because he didn't have a teenage daughter to deal with yet. 

Sunday Dinners H1

I didn't do so well this year so far tracking Sunday dinners here on the blog. My intent was to post one a month as they happened. And, well, life. 

I started out strong in January. Then nothing. So let me catch you up. 

February - Italian

February was a wroaming Sunday dinner. We all gathered at Chez Levi out in West Seattle. She's got a beautiful house that has a killer view. It's always weird for me to have Sunday dinner some place else. I both love and hate it. Love it because we get to change it up and I don't have to do dishes. Hate it because I love hosting. 

Dinner was stuffed shells. So delicious. We also had Italian Salad, Deconstructed Tiramasu, and appetizers. It was a small group that was the Braspirs, Claudia/Bob, Janet and I. I like small groups sometimes. 

The view from Chez Pantry Goat

That's not one of my cats, that's Frey.

March - Burger Bar

Mmm burgers. I do love a good burger. I blame my mom for that. She LOVED cheeseburgers. The drippier the better. Homemade burgers are one of my favorite things to make. So easy, so inexpensive and so yummy. 

I did the burgers and cheese. Claudia brought all the veggies, including amazing grilled onions. The Braspirs brought baked beans, Janet brought a beautiful lemon cake, Rose and Graeme brough arancini (risotto balls). So much food. I also provided the condiments that included BBQ sauce and fried onions. 

Poor Graeme. Lucy only wanted to sit on his lap. Poor guy is allergic to cats, and that stinkin' cat kept coming back for more. 

This cake was amazing.

April - Thai

Thai themed is officially not my favorite theme. I like Thai food, but I like Thai food in a restaurant. It's a tricky theme because it requires ingredients most of us don't use (kinda like Indian last year). Still everyone played along. 

I made Thai Beef curry in the crock pot. Mark and Jo made spring rolls. Kathy did Chicken Satay. And Janet did Thai Lettuce Wraps. 

I discovered too late that no one signed up to bring dessert. So I brought out some Cresta bars, and Nutella cookies. Worked like a charm. 

Spring Rolls. It took a couple to get the hang of the rolling.

May - Burrito Bowls

I love me a good burrito bowl. And this dinner was spot on. I made carne asada and Charro beans (so good). Mark and Jo brought guac. Graeme and Rose brough Mexican corn. Janet brought sides for the burrito bowls (sour cream, cheese, onions, salsa, etc). The Braspirs brought Flan. 

We had way too much food again, but we were happy and full. As we always are on Sunday dinner nights.

Kathy made flan.

June - Spanish / Portuguese

Oh boy! What a Sunday dinner. Mark and Jo hosted it at their new house in Gig Harbor. We moved this Sunday dinner to Saturday to make it a little easier to get to Gig Harbor and home again without Monday looming. 

Mark made Paella. He and Jo had taken a class and so they knew the right way to make it. Plus he has this massive Paella pan - so it seemed like we had to break it in. 

We started with appetizers, of course. Rose and Graeme brought jamon and cheese; there was smoked salmon; marinated olives, and I made Garlic Shrimp. 

Making Paella is a process, but it's not difficult. There's a lot of components, but if you're an organized chef, this part is easy. Mark did an excellent job and the Paella was some of the best I've had. 

Best part of the night was when Mark was going to take the Paella pan into the house and we'd serve ourselves from there, only the pan wouldn't fit through the back door. That's one large pan. We ate our paella with a yummy El Senior Caesar Salado (it was just a Caesar salad, but we had to make it Spanish.)

We finished the night with a chocolate tort brought by Janet. 

Our next two Sunday dinners will also be wroaming ones. Next month is our annual Low Country Boil at Janet's. Then August is being hosted by the Pantry Goat. 

Crabby Girls Weekend

Once a year the crabs plan a getaway. It's usually in October, and it's usually for longer than a weekend. This year, we had a plan to go over and see one of the crabs new vacation/weekend home. It doesn't mean we won't go somewhere in October, it just means we got to spend an extra weekend together. 

We loaded up and headed over to Eastern Washington on Friday morning. Stopping in Cle Elum for groceries, Owen's meats (a must), the bakery (also a must) and last minute groceries for the weekend. Not that we needed any more food. We always over plan and always have more than enough food around. 

This is just the snacks for only two days.

The Braspir's house is a small, comfy house on top of a hill outside of Cle Elum. It was so comfortable and welcoming and had a killer view. 

We headed off that afternoon to the Thorp fruit stand. I've not ever stopped in there, so we thought it'd be fun to go check it out. An added bonus, they have ice cream. 

We had tacos that night and spend the evening in watching Blazing Saddles. Can I just say, that is one of the most offensive movies! I suppose in 1974 they didn't seem to care as much as we do now. 

Saturday we lazed around for the morning then headed off to the Wild Horse Wind Farm. It's an area where they have 149 wind turbines. It's plenty windy up on that hill so it makes sense. We gave it crabs. 

They have a small "museum" up there that talks about wind energy and all that goes into it. I found it very interesting and learned a thing or two. 

After that, we met my friend Kara in Ellensburg for lunch at The Porch. If you're in that part of town, stop by. Their food was amazing. It was a great lunch and gave Kara and I a chance to get caught up. Sometimes with old friends, it doesn't matter how much time passes between visits, you pick up right where you left off. 

We then headed off to do some wine tasting. Ellensburg Canyon winery is a bit up the canyon heading to Yakima. It's beautiful country out there and they make pretty good wine. I tasted for the first time a Cab Franc "Blanc". It's a white wine, which I normally am not a fan of, and was so freaking yummy. I had to buy a bottle. Oh and I bought two bottles of Port too. One a malbec and one a cab sauv. So good. 

Loaded...hahah, not quite, we headed back home and made a dinner. Chef Kathy made us an excellent salmon dinner. We do not starve on these trips. 

We opted to do book club on Saturday night since we were all together. I wasn't a huge fan of this book. It was ok, but not great. 

Sunday we were headed back home, but not before we stopped at one more fruit stand and had a little fun. 

All in all it was a great weekend and a fun getaway. WE will be visiting that house again I'm sure. 

Another Mother’s Day without Her

I didn't know yet how much this woman who is cradling me would impact my life. 

I didn't know here either.

I'm the blondy on the right

Or here

1984

1989

Or even here

The Last Mother's Day 2016

Being part of a motherless club has not been fun. I miss my mom every minute of every day. I’ve learned that it wasn’t about the big stuff that I shared with her. No. It was all the small stuff that I shared with her that I can no longer experience.

I’ve been part of this unfortunate club for 6.5 years now. I’m certainly not the only one in this club and know there are people who have spent more years in it than me. I knew when she died there’d be a lot of “firsts” that would happen. The first birthday without her. The first holiday season without her. The first promotion without her. The first Mother's Day without her. These are the days that creep up on me and just plain hurt. I was misinformed that the original grief would fade and the pain would "go away". But this hurt lasts way longer than the grief did.

The day that is BY FAR the hardest is Mother’s Day. I’ve had to go through 6 of these days and they get no easier. I have no reason to think the 7th will be any different. They hurt as much today as the first one did. It’s a day that I’m sadden by the woman I miss so much. Who I no longer have to celebrate today with. 

I feel out of place on a day everyone around me is celebrating with their moms. They are celebrating the day with a person I so desperately wish I could celebrate with. I only wish and hope that they all recognize how fortunate they are. Please go hug your mom. Or tell her you love her. Or just call her.

Time hasn’t stopped me from wanting to hide in a hole for the entire day and not come out until all the celebrating is done. Time doesn’t make me forget that my Mom was my best friend and she’s supposed to still be here with me.

While I will wish all the moms out there a Happy Mother’s day, I caution the children to hold tight to your mom. Hug her. Tell her you love her. And never, EVER, take the time you have with her for granted. It goes was too quickly and one day, sadly, you too will be part of this motherless club.

The Past

I'm sure this happens to everyone. I'm sure I'm not special in any way to feel the way I do about the past. But god damn, the past can sure rise up and bite you in the emotional ass when you least expect it. 

I'm SURE it has to do with Mom's day around the corner. I tend to get emotional when Mom's birthday, the day she died and Mother's day comes around. 

Top that with a blast from the past has me thinking about all sorts of memories and you have a recipe for some serious drama. 

It's not drama that makes me said, its just drama that makes me think about life and how wonderful it's been. 

Honestly, diving into memories from the past do have potential to make most said, or full of regrets. My memories usually make me happy, nostalgic even. It reminds me that I've had a pretty good life. Oh, sure there has been sadness and loss and regrets, but I'm learning to see those as mere blips on the grand scheme of life's adventures.

I could dwell on them and let that drag me into the abyss. But in my wiser years I see it as memories that helped shape me. And I'm ok with that and who I am ... well, for today. Tomorrow's another story. 

Happy Birthday Middle Bro

I think most of you know I have three older "brothers". They were Dad's boys from his first marriage. By the time mom and I came around none of them were in the house anymore. I never lived with them and never built that normal siblings bond because of that. 

Christmas 1998 I think

It was hard to get to know them. They all had their own lives and, frankly, Mom and I didn't feel they cared at all to get to know us. 

We saw them at their convenience always. Their mother and what she wanted to do with them always came first. Mom was ok with that because she learned that celebrating with family didn't have to be on that specific day (like Christmas for example). Any day could be Christmas. It became about doing things with the family. 

Mom and I never felt we measured up and were the "ugly step children" that they knew about but didn't mention. 

Ric and I became very close when we trained and walked the breast cancer 3 day. He was always the most opened. The most welcoming. Still, at first, he kept us at arm's length. I don't think he was sure what to do with our relationship. It felt like he wanted to stay loyal to  his mom, but wanted to support his dad. He definitely was the most open with us. And then we became brother and sister thanks to the 3day. He was my BigBro.

The oldest brother, Michael, was the most stand-off ish. He seemed very unsure about us and the most unwelcoming. He was the one Mom and I felt had the least interest in getting to know us. It bothered mom for years. Then once Dad died, the relationship just got worse. We knew once dad died that we'd definitely not be thought about by them. We'd be a footnote in their lives. 

It didn't help that Mike and his family moved to St. Louis. The distance made it even harder to maintain a relationship. Especially when we felt like we were doing all the work and didn't feel like they wanted to bother. Sarah - my niece, was always close to mom and was one that always reached out. But not her folks. I tried for years to become his sister. Then when I heard he said that he "never had a sister" in a gathering we weren't at, I was done. I'll be cordial around him, but nothing more. 

Then the middle brother, Jerry. He was always the one that confused me the most. Jerry is quiet. VERY QUIET. And if you know Mom and I, we are not. I think when we visited the farm (where Jerry lived) we amused him. He'd just sit in the corner with his cigarette and listen with a smile on his face. 

Jerry had his own demons. He treated mom and I with respect, but his quietness made it hard to get to know him. Then when mom and dad moved to Odessa, Jerry because someone mom relied on. He was over helping, talking, eating, all of it. He became someone very important to mom and her to him. I was thrilled for mom for that reason. By that time, she was starting to need some support with dad. 

He still remained elusive to me. He will talk with me. He'll answer any questions I ask. Sometimes he would initiate the conversation, but it was a lot of sitting in silence with him. And that was when I realized, that he was one of the few I felt comfortable sitting in silence with. 

Today Jerry turns 66. He seems nothing like what I thought that age was when I was younger. His years of working outside as a farm hand, or general help has taken it's toll on him, but he's still going strong. He has a lot of deep thoughts. He loves nature. He has a mischievous grin on his face most the time and it leaves you wondering what type of shenanigans he's planning. He has battled some serious demons in his life, and has come out a being a better man. 

This is how I will always remember Jerry. 
At the farm, cigarette in one hand, coffee in the other.

So happy birthday MiddleBro. Hope you have a fabulous day being you.

Seawolves Rugby

As one of our things on the list to do this year was to go see the Seattle Seawolves Rugby team. NONE of us knew anything about rugby or had seen it before - so this was going to be a treat. 

The usual suspects went, along with two from Scotland who we were sure were going to help explain what the heck was going on. We got down there early (we heard the parking sucked and it did) and had a snack before the game. The weather was wet, but thankfully we were under cover.

Graeme & Rose (both from Scotland), Janet and I

Kathy, Rowland and I

The match starts with the Seawolves running on the field. I could not believe the size of these lads legs. Tree trunks!  I would later understand WHY they were so beefy. The crowd seemed to love these guys and it was clear there are some favorites. 

Like all good sport matches, we started with the national anthem. The stadium here is, well, old. The stereo system is definitely not DOLBE sound. It reminded me of a high school football stereo. 

By this time Graeme had explained enough to us to help us "understand". Though to be fair, while I got easier to understand what was going on, the rules still didn't make sense. But we eventually got the idea. 

This sport is absolutely brutal. No pads. The hits these guys would take. Lord. I mean when you can hear the hit in the stands, and I swear almost feel the concussion from it, you know these are no pansies on that field. 

I won't even begin to try to explain the game. You can google it if you want, or find things on YouTube to explain it. The end goal is to win by more points than the other team. How they score made no sense to me at first. Eventually I understood most of it. 

Yes. They lift a guy up when they are inbounding the ball so this taller than all the others guy can get the ball for their team. Fascinating. 

In the end, the Seawolves didn't win, but that's ok. We loved seeing the game. The crowd really got into it - some more than others - and that always makes games exciting. I'd go again in a heart beat. This was entertaining enough, and plenty of eye candy that I'd "suffer" through another 80 minutes of this.