Today I Met My Granddaughter

This girl 

Regular readers are looking at this title and thinking, "But April, you already know Ramona. You just got back from two weeks out west spending time with her. What do you mean by 'today I met my granddaughter?' Is there another granddaughter that you have been keeping secret?"

No, there is no other granddaughter. I'm talking about Ramona.

My title is taken from a good friend's recent observations. Scott's father died when he was a teenager. He today has teenage children, one of whom recently went on her school's 8th grade trip to Washington, D.C. His daughter was one of four students chosen to lay a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Solider. Scott reflected on how his father would have been so proud. Then he said, "Today I think my father met his granddaughter."

Close friends know that several years ago I started a middle school age novel (MS fiction, as opposed to YA fiction) in which Ramona is 12 years old and the main character. I have referred to it in passing from time to time in this blog. This novel has languished for lots of reasons, most of them excuses.

It's. Not. Completed.

Yesterday afternoon I sat for three hours in the hall at the Renaissance Theater in Mansfield while Warren was in rehearsal. I passed the time reading Beautiful Dream by Jennifer Fulwiler, a book I just happened to pluck off the New Book shelf at the library the day before. Fulwiler writes in hilarious, poignant, and solid prose about balancing a large, young family, a strained budget, health problems, and her passion and desire to write.

The writing stuff jolted me. I carried my thoughts through the evening, through the concert, all the way home, and as I fell asleep. I woke with it in my head this morning.

As Warren and I talked in the early, quiet moments of our day, I started to verbalize my thoughts. I talked about being pushed to write again, especially to finish my MS novel. Warren knows the overall story I am writing, but has not read it. He asked me whether I would make changes to the structure given changes to the family (Ramona's cousin Lyrick being born two years ago, for example) that have happened since I first started it.

No, I said. I'm solid with how I have the family structured. Then I spoke about Ramona in my novel.

"It's our Ramona, six years from now. She's stubborn and brave and sometimes just falls apart but takes this incredible hard, huge journey and..."

Then I paused as tears flooded my eyes and my throat closed up.

"Oh my god," I said. "I've met the Ramona I'm never going to meet. And she's amazing and wonderful and..."

And I started crying.

Some of my tears were from sorrow that I will never know Ramona at 12.  But the overwhelming emotions were wonder and gratitude.

I met my granddaughter, Ramona of 2024, today, this morning.

What a joy. What a gift.

"Read GOOGY Eyes! GOOGY EYES!"

"GOOGY EYES!" 

I last caught up the book list just before vacation. We have been back over two weeks, and I am still recovering from that whole exhausting, wonderful experience. I slowed down while on vacation, but am regaining my reading pace.

So here's where I am since last time:
156. Happiness by Thich Nhat Hanh (this is one of two books I took with me on vacation; it is a small, beautiful treatise on meditation and (what else?) happiness)
157. Ten Little Dinosaurs by Pattie Schnetzler (Ramona's little cousin Lyrick adopted us as another set of grandparents and we adopted him as another grandchild while we were on vacation; this book was one that I read easily 30 times while I was there, often with Lyrick waving it and saying loudly and insistently "Read Googy Eyes, ganmaw! GOOGY EYES!" I figure any book I read that much, even a board book, gets listed; I read it enough times that if someone else read it and did not pronounce the dinosaur names [the scientific names] the way I did, Lyrick would shake his head and tell them so)

Lyrick, Ganmaw Apul and Googy Eyes 

158. LaRose by Louise Erdrich (Erdrich is a brilliant, gifted writer who does not write a false word; this novel explores an accidental shooting and the redemption of several lives in its aftermath)
159. Steal Like an Artist: 10 Things Nobody Told You About Being Creative by August Kleon (a quirky, impulse vacation buy while we stood in a FedEx storefront having sheet music printed; I may reread it in a few months and see what I think)
160. Lost Connections: Uncovering the Real Causes of Depression—and the Unexpected Solutions by Johann Hari (this is a fascinating exploration of the author's own struggles with depression and his research into what some doctors feel causes depression: loss of connections in the community, in the workplace, in the home, in the greater world; it is a good jumping off place for some thoughtful discussion but read it with caution)
161. Jell-O Girls: A Family History by Allie Rowbottom (a feminist history, a family history, a story of love and loss and trauma by an heir to the Jell-O fortune)
162. The Good Neighbor: The Life and Work of Fred Rogers by Maxwell King (back in the summer, we saw the documentary "Won't You Be My Neighbor?" about the life and work of Fred Rogers; this biography, not a film-related work, adds to the fuller picture of an absolutely amazing man)
163. The Garden Party by Grace Dane Mazur (this novel is what Anne Morrow Lindbergh's novella The Wedding Party could have been if she had been a stronger fiction writer; this takes place at the rehearsal dinner prior to the wedding of a couple from very different backgrounds)
164. My Abandonment by Peter Rock (I saw the trailer for a movie "Leave No Trace" earlier this summer and was intrigued enough by it to track down the underlying novel; this is a grim, dark work and I have to believe the film made it more palatable)
165. Clock Dance by Anne Tyler (thank you, Anne Tyler, for writing, and for setting Willa free at the very end to go to where she was loved and needed)
166. Squeezed: Why Our Families Can't Afford America by Alissa Quart (this book is about families and socio-economic challenges in today's America, as well as about broader issues of income equity, unstable job markets, living wages, and how we as a nation pay lip service to the notion that stable, healthy families are important)
167. Meg, Jo, Beth, Amy: The Story of Little Women and Why It Still Matters by Anne Boyd Rioux (this year is the 150th anniversary of the first blockbuster novel in the history of the world and Rioux explores the Alcott family, the writing of the book, its amazing publishing success, and why this is an important block in the wall of American literature, even though it is often overlooked as a "girls' book." As someone who has read Little Woman probably over 300 or more times, I get it)

My son Ben and I talked about Kindles when we were out there. He reads almost exclusively on Kindle, explaining how much he can carry around with him (true that). "I can get you one if you want, Mom," he said.

Not there yet.

Those Bad Boys

A few weeks ago, I spent a cold, rainy weekend making pots of black bean soup. Even though we are not yet to the first day of autumn, I was feeling winter pressing down gently. It was a two-day process, not because it was complicated, but because I let it set overnight to let everything meld together.

Our house smelled wonderful.

And, ever curious about the cost of eating, I calculated what went into those pots. Four pounds of dried black beans, $4.98 at Aldi. A bag of Vidalia onions for $1.49 and three cans of tomato paste for $1.17 (total, not per can) from the same. The tomato paste was my error: the recipe calls for four cans of tomato sauce, so I thinned out three cans of paste and hoped for the best. I added another onion from those I already had (maybe, maybe 40 cents), two heads of garlic (66 cents), some oil from a massive container of blended sunflower and olive oil we bought months ago, and a handful of spices from the cabinet (mostly bought bulk). And about four tablespoons of balsamic vinegar (in lieu of wine); I bought the vinegar at least two years ago for a few dollars and am still using it. All the sweet peppers needed (eight total) came from our garden, some already chopped and frozen earlier this summer.

As I posted on a No Spend site I belong to on Facebook, my work and those few dollars spent represented  a whole lot of meals once those bad boys cooled.

And cool they did. When it was all done, I froze most of it (several quarts) for the winter, we ate black beans for several meals, and one container went to our next door neighbors. Total cost? Maybe $9.50, if I am generously rounding up on the spices, vinegar, and oil.

Pennies in, warmth and friendship and winter meals out.

Small Moments

"The fields are coming down."

I don't know which one of us said it first, but we both said it. Last night Warren and I were driving a few miles north to one of our favorite ice cream stands in a small village you reach by roads that run alongside farm fields. It was early evening, the sun was starting to do magnificent things with the line of clouds along the western edge of the land, and there was a farmer starting to harvest the corn crop for the year. We could see the dust rising from the combine way off that way; trucks to haul the grain were parked tail to nose on the country road next to the farm.

Bringing in the crops is the surest sign of fall we know in these parts.

As we sat on the church steps near the ice cream stand (church steps we sat on first in 1972, eating ice cream from the very same stand), we talked quietly. We noticed that, unlike high summer when the lines are ten or more deep, we were the last two customers of the evening. The stand closes September 30 and we agreed it was probably the last time we'd be there this year.

I make no bones about it: fall is my absolute favorite season. EVER. Winter is a distant second. I love fall not for its commercial cuteness ("Pumpkin spice latte!" Not.) but for its finality: winding down the natural year, bringing the outdoors to a close. My gardens are starting to shut down—I spent part of yesterday morning and the same today trimming and cutting. I might (might) get a few more tomatoes.

We still have warm weather and are likely to have it for some weeks yet, but the sunlight slants now rather than come on strong high overhead. The heat of the day evaporates into cool evenings. Morning fogs are not unusual this time of year, highlighting every spiderweb on every bush. Last weekend was cold and rainy; I spent it inside making and freezing black bean soup for the winter ahead.

The Jewish year begins in the autumn. The High Holy Days come at the time of harvest, with Sukkot following hard after. This is a time of self-reflection and renewal, a time of reconciliation and of making peace with one's own shortcomings. For me, it resonates with the ending of the gardens and plantings: time to reflect on what we brought in, what we could have done differently, what we hope to be and do next year.

"The fields are coming down."

August Finances

Yes, yes, it IS mid-September and I  am just now getting around to writing about August finances. Well, we didn't get home until 3:30 a.m. on September 6 (driving, mind you), I was exhausted from the trip, then Rosh Hashanah popped up, then there was this small awards ceremony yesterday that I had to write a talk (two, actually) for, and then...

Excuses, excuses. So what about August?

I approached August a little differently because of our trip that stretched from August 22 into September. While out west, we bought groceries for meals and the household. While out west, we took family (sometimes lots of family) out to eat. I ended up adding the western groceries into our August expenses: whether we were buying for two or ten (two of them children), it was money spent on food to keep the household going. As for eating out, I only added those meals that were just the two of us.

So what about August?

Food purchases (at the grocery store, including and especially my all-time favorite store ever—EVER—Winco) came to $220.76. Add another $10.05 for household items, and September purchases come to $230.83. That brings our monthly average to $177.45, just over the $175.00 I am hoping to average in 2018. With September already half over, and grocery (food and household) right around $110.00, I think the month will finish up frugally.

Warren, who had never shopped at Winco, was totally sold on it. BEST. GROCERY. STORE. EVER. And the fact that it is solely employee-owned makes it even sweeter.

Eating out in August, using the vacation explanation I have above, came out to $34.67. $18.45 of that was an evening meal Warren and I grabbed one night at Burgerville, a regional burger chain out there that can be pricey. That night, when we were worn and depleted, it was worth every penny.

The trip itself was not inexpensive, but we had saved for the travel costs and I had set aside in my own account funds to spend on the trip. I came home with money left over, despite spending more loosely than I do at home. I did not categorized every single expense, but here are some of the big ones:

Tickets (plane, train, and rental car, long-term parking at O-Hare, and a hotel room for one night in Sacramento): $2471.21
Gasoline (to/from Chicago and gas for the rental car out there): $139.81
Fares, parking, and admissions (ourselves and others): $111.85
Percussion (doesn't everyone go on vacation and buy percussion equipment? We do!): $76.00
Clothing (totally not a foreseen cost—thank you, Fred Meyer, for having great sales): $79.23
Duffel bag replacement (Warren's gave up the ghost): $32.45
Books (one word: POWELL'S): $66.89
Gifts (Ramona turned 6 and Lyrick was turning 2; this includes $50.00 gift cards to Target for the parents for each one): $229.43
Ornaments (we buy Christmas ornaments when we travel: Mt. St. Helens, California Railway Museum, California State capitol building): $55.02

These figures, except for the eating out we did on the way home, include some September spending, but I have lumped the trip all together.

The finances have nothing to do with the overall wonderful trip. We spent much welcome time with family and then with close friends when in Sacramento. The train trip home was spectacular. I haven't even begun to sort pictures.

Okay, August is in the books. Hard to believe that in 15 more days, September will be too.

Things I Learned While Traveling

Warren and I just midweek (Thursday morning at 3:30 a.m. to be precise) returned from two weeks on the road: Delaware to Chicago, then all the way out to Portland/Vancouver (Washington, not B.C.), then down to Sacramento, California, back to Chicago by way of Amtrak, then home to Delaware by car. When I post my August financials, I will have a breakdown of the trip (even though some of it fell into September) and at some point sooner than later I will share a few pictures.

This post, in comparison, contains travel observations I scrawled in a notebook while riding the rails. This was not our first lengthy train expedition, but traveling is always an opportunity to broaden one's horizons. In no particular order, here's what stuck with me:

• Two small travel toothpastes are enough for two people for two weeks, no matter what your spouse says.
• When traveling as a couple, I will always pack more than I need.
• Don't leave the cheap flip-flops at home. Ever.
• When traveling by train, take every Fresh Air Break they call one, get out and walk around. Okay, every FAB except the one at 3:00 a.m.
• Amtrak meals (included with the roomette) are expansive. Don't eat everything. On the other hand, stockpile bottled water every chance an Amtrak employee offers you one. 
• The upper berth on an Amtrak roomette is adequate if you are into self-abasement.
• It is easier to sleep head to toe in the bottom berth than subject anyone to the top berth. (See previous entry.)
• The Milky Way is real. Look at it. (I know that, but it helps to be visually reminded from time to time.)
• Look out the window all the time. Even when it is dark. This is a big country. Treat yourself to it. 
• Practice patience. Practice mindfulness. You'll need it.

It's good to be back.