Author Archives: kzmclain

Saturday Smile: To Be Continued

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When I moved from St. Bonaventure Elementary to Scotus Central Catholic Junior High, and then on to Scotus Central Catholic High School, there was no continuation ceremony. I just cleaned out my desk, said goodbye to my school friends, waved adios to my teacher (who waved back and told me not to let the door hit me in the butt on the way out), and left for the summer. Apparently that’s not the way things roll anymore, at least not in Denver, as evidenced by the fact that we attended not one, but two, continuation ceremonies on Thursday.

Dagny is finished with elementary school and moving on to middle school…..

…..and Addie completed eighth grade and is continuing on to (say it ain’t so) high school…..

Addie and Maggie Faith, along with their (count ’em) three grandmothers.

Addie was recognized for being an honor roll (with distinction) member. Good girl. She’s smart as well as pretty…..

And this is what she looked like the day after the continuation…..

By the way, the reason Papa isn’t in the grandparents’ photo is that he had to miss Addie’s ceremony to take Alastair to the airport where he will spend a week with his Aunt Julie camping at Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks.

My grandkids never fail to make me smile.

Have a great weekend.

Friday Book Whimsy: Elizabeth Street

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My husband and I have been lucky enough to travel fairly extensively in Italy. The bulk of our time has been in Rome, the Cinque Terre, and all over Tuscany. However, we were able to spend a bit of time in Naples and Sicily. Enough time to know that even now, in the 21st century, northern Italy and southern Italy are kind of like two different universes. Elizabeth Street, by Laurie Fabiano, reminded me that it wasn’t all that long ago when Italy wasn’t the republic that it is today, and the people in the north looked down on the people in the south and people in the south barely tolerated people in the north.

Fabiano’s novel is based on the true story of her family in Calabria – a region that is located in the “toe of the boot” that is Italy. The economy, even now, is largely dependent on fishing.  Being only a stone’s throw from the island of Sicily, the area was impacted by what would now be called the mafia.

In the beginning of Elizabeth Street, Giovanna Costa and Nunzia, the boy she has grown up loving, are married. Nunzia leaves almost immediately for New York City, where he plans to earn money in the land with streets paved with gold and return to his town of Scilla and his wife with comfortable wealth. He unfortunately dies in a construction accident caused by owner negligence. When Giovanna learns of his death, she travels to America to find out what happened and see where he is buried.

Giovanna is surprised to find that the Italian area of NYC is actually fairly segregated in the early 1800s, with Calabrians barely speaking to immigrants from Rome or Milan. She is a strong-willed and intelligent woman, and eventually learns midwifery from a woman doctor from northern Italy who lives nearby. Eventually  Giovanna marries again, this time to a widower, not for love but for more practical reasons. She marries a man who is kind and happy to have a wife to care for the children from his first marriage.

Eventually, she and her husband build a successful grocery business and things look positive. That is, until they come face-to-face with the increasing power of the so-called Black Hand, a group that was the prequel to the Mafia we know today who extorted business owners for large sums of money. The story focuses on the strength of character of Giovanna despite the trials they faced. As it is based on a true story, it was somewhat of a history lesson about life in big cities in the early 20th century.

The author told a fascinating family story with unexpected twists and turns. I loved the fact that, though a novel, it stayed true to course since it was based on her own family history.

Admittedly the story was a bit slow moving at times. But I enjoyed the descriptions of NYC in the early 20th century and, of course, all the descriptions of food and family.

Here is a link to the book.

Thursday Thoughts

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Play Ball
Tuesday evening, Bill and I watched Alastair play in his final baseball game of the spring season. His team — the Dodgers — sufficiently annihilated their opponent. Not that I was keeping score. We were able to see him do a nice job of playing catcher for a couple of innings, and then third base. We saw him at bat twice, and both times he was walked. A walk is as good as a hit, or so they say. And one of his walks did actually end with him scoring a run, but he was thrown out at home the second time. It was a nice night, and we were glad to get a chance to see him play, green shoes and all….

Edelweiss, Edelweiss, Every Morning You Greet Me
The above-mentioned song from Sound of Music is one of my favorites from that movie. In fact, I speak the truth when I tell you that I can’t hear it without tearing up. The reason? It’s the song I sang to every one of my grandkids when they were little and I was trying to rock them to sleep. I don’t know what I sang to Court when he was a baby, but I do know, whatever it was, it didn’t work. My grandmother once told me that the reason edelweiss flowers are so special in Austria, Germany, and Switzerland is because they only grow up in the mountains, so if your boyfriend brought you a bouquet of edelweiss, you knew you were something special because he climbed a mountain to get them. I wonder if my grandpa ever gave them to my grandma. Kids, ask your parents and grandparents questions NOW. Though I can see the mountains from my front yard, I don’t live in them, so no edelweiss in my garden. However, I think my columbines are very pretty this year. Columbines are Colorado’s state flower…..

Colorado’s state tree is the blue spruce, and there is one that was the size of a Christmas tree when we moved into the house 25 years ago that now towers over our back yard. The state dinosaur, by the way, is the stegosaurus, and there is not a single one of those anywhere in our yard.

What Time is It?
Time to get a new watch, I’m afraid. My watch is probably six or seven years old. Maybe older. It’s an inexpensive Timex. Nevertheless, I love that watch. It’s comfortable and for an inexpensive watch, it keeps really reliable time. And when we are moving from one time zone to another, I watch Bill work with his fancy dancy watch to get it to the right time via technology, while in the meantime, I just turn the little knob to the correct time. Yesterday, I was spending an enjoyable morning paying bills (do you recognize sarcasm?) and I glanced at my watch. It said 8:45. I was kind of surprised, because it seemed later than that. But, I said to myself, when you get up at 5:30 a.m., it’s not surprising that it would seem later than it actually is. So I went back to paying bills. A short time later, I heard Bill holler up to me, “Kris, I’m leaving for lunch. See you later.” Surprised, I glanced at my watch to see what time it was. As you might have guessed, it was 8:45. Ooooo boy. I had plans to meet a friend for lunch at 11:30. I looked at my cell phone to find the correct time, and was relieved that it was only 11 o’clock. Happily, I was dressed and mostly ready to go, but plans to ride my scooter went out the window. The always-helpful Bill pulled the battery out of the watch later, and I purchased a new battery, which he installed. No dice. The minute hand just stayed put. Bill said, “Well, the good news is that even a broken watch is right twice a day.” Hardy har har. Looks like I’ll have to dig deep in my pocket and fork over $36 for a new watch exactly like this one…..

It’s All Good
Last night my niece Maggie sent me this photo of her kids Austin and Lilly Marie settling in to watch a movie with a popsicle and the blankets I made them. Life is good…….

Ciao!

The Red Menace

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Many years ago, when Bill’s sons were still in high school, Bill decided (in that optimistic way characteristic of most parents) that he was going to buy a little sports car in need of repair, and that he and his boys would work on it together. You know, a project. Kind of like Andy and Opie Taylor working on a car when the good sheriff wasn’t bringing down bad guys in a totally nonviolent way, a big goofy smile on his face, and a guitar in his hand with which he would sing You Are My Sunshine.

Bill began looking at car ads, and one in particular stuck out. It was for an old Ferrari – 1959 250 GTPF – in Auto Trader magazine. He bought the car in Longmont for a surprisingly good price, drove it home to Denver, and set about tinkering on the car in order to get it running like a top.

Ferrari 250 GT PF II Coupe

The thing is, the boys weren’t particularly interested in helping work on the car. They were interested in girls and music and hanging out with their friends. Of course, they were totally interested in getting the car running so that they could drive it to prom, but not much in getting their own hands dirty.

Eventually, Bill sold that old Ferrari, and bought a newer old Ferrari – a 1982 308 GTSi…..

What a pretty car! Oh, and the red one’s not bad either….

He actually drove that car around a bit for a while. In fact, at one point he drove it to Phoenix and let our nephew Christopher use it at his wedding.

Eventually, however, the car started having problems, and eventually stopped running. Bill parked it in our two-car garage, something I told him was fine with me as long as the other car in the two-car garage was my yellow bug. So, for over two decades, he has parked his own car (the one he actually drives on a daily basis) out in the driveway, and never once complained.

And the red sports car has been a very expensive placeholder for that regular car for all of this time. Until last summer – the Summer of the Ferrari – when Bill tinkered and tweaked and took out car parts and replaced them with new car parts until he actually got it running.

This is quite a long story when the point of my story is simple: I don’t get it. I don’t understand the fuss. I can’t figure out why he can just stand and look at his red car in a way that I’m pretty sure he never looked at me.

And it’s not just him. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s anyone with testosterone in their DNA. The other day, for example, the garage door was open. A perfect stranger out walking his dog spotted the car, and he and Bill spent a half hour or so talking about cars. Like conversations at a book club.

I recently mentioned in one of my Thursday Thoughts that Bill was getting his car ready to drive. (I actually should say his Ferrari ready to drive, but I’m too embarrassed to use that word). I got a comment from an old high school friend with whom I am connected on Facebook. He’d read that blog post and actually commented on the post, saying in jest that he would be happy to take that old piece of junk off of Bill’s hands for 500 bucks. I responded that Bill wants to drive it to Nebraska in August when our class will be celebrating our 45th high school class reunion, but that I was horrified at the thought. I think my friend Larry was horrified that I was horrified. Nevertheless, the car will not be taking a trip to Nebraska if I have anything to say about it.

Perhaps it’s not just testosterone, however, because the other day he gave Addie a ride to the park where she was going to meet up with friends, and, well, she was mighty happy. And last summer, Mylee couldn’t stop beaming as she got a chance to sit in Papa’s red car…..

Neither Addie nor Mylee – or any of my other grands for that matter – look that happy when they are in the yellow bug. Go figure.

This post linked to Grammy’s Grid Link Party.

Memorial Day Memories

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Well, yesterday was Memorial Day. Kick off to summer. However, tick tock, tick tock. Countdown to Fourth of July, when summer’s half over. That is how my mother would have looked at the day. I come by my Glass-Half-Empty mentality honestly. To be fair, she wasn’t negative about all things. But when it came to summertime, she simply thought it went by too quickly.

Any more, I think all seasons of the year go by quickly. Time flies even faster as you get older.

Enjoy every day. And I have to tell you that we did, indeed, enjoy our Sunday celebration. The springtime weather has been pretty unpredictable so far, at least in my Glass-Half-Empty mind. A lot of rain (which Glass-Half-Full people would say is good for the crops), and temperatures chilly enough that my heat was still going on in the morning. Yesterday I just turned it off, thereby taking away our thermostat’s option of turning on the heat. It’s almost June, for heaven’s sake. If our thermostat doesn’t like it, it can take it up with Google Home.

But Sunday’s weather was simply beautiful. The sky was blue all day long with not a raincloud in sight. The temperature was a perfect 70 or so. Jen arrived on our doorstep around 10 and she and I made our quick trip to Fort Logan National Cemetery and were home before noon. A short time later, Kaiya, Mylee, and Cole showed up with big smiles on their faces, and their daddy had an even bigger smile because he got a few hours of time to himself. The kids fully intended to spend the day with Play Doh. Because, as you recall, they do love Play Doh…..

Instead, I made lunch for them and they ate it outside, and that’s pretty much where they spent the rest of the day – outside. They caught roly poly bugs, they built a village in the sandbox, they spruced up Papa’s horseshoe pit (if you call adding sand to the pit sprucing it up, and by the way, don’t tell Papa).

And they ate watermelon. And then ate more watermelon. At one point, Jen said she doesn’t think she’s ever seen a single human eat as much watermelon as each of them ate. Kaiya informed me well into her fourth or fifth slice that the first bite of the point of the watermelon slice is the best, because it’s sweeter than the rest. I’m pretty sure there is no science to back that up, but she would not be dissuaded.

While my ribs were roasting in the oven, I made ceviche. I followed my nephew Erik’s recipe in which I cut up tilapia into cubes, added red onion, cilantro, jalapeno, and salt and pepper. I then squeezed somewhere in the neighborhood of 10 or 15 limes over the whole dish…..

…..and let it cook….

It was delicious….

When growing up, Mom always made baked beans for any summer gathering. At some point, she gave the assignment to me. In hindsight, I recognize that she was very smart, because she always told me (probably making sure to whisper so that no one else heard) that I made the best baked beans and that’s why she had me make them. Every single time. Given that her beans recipe consisted of a couple of cans of pork and beans, some ketchup, some mustard, some brown sugar, and some worcestershire sauce, I’m pretty sure a 5-year-old could have made them. Nevertheless, I proudly made the beans then, and I proudly made them Sunday to accompany my ribs. No recipe needed.

And, by the way, Kaiya likes a little bit of pie with her whipped cream….

Late in the day, Allen and Emma stopped by to say hi, and to bring a dozen Voodoo Donuts….

At the end of the day, before the kids headed home, we put them in the bathtub to clean up before they put on their pajamas. As you can see, they were just a bit dirty…..

Just a sign of a really good day.

America the Beautiful

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Yesterday morning, as Bill and I ate delicious apple turnovers just out of the oven, he asked me if I had any patriotic music on my playlists. I admitted that I did not. So we asked our faithful, yet oh-so-mostly-unhelpful Google Home, if she could play The Star Spangled Banner. She declined, as is usually her response, indicating she didn’t have that in her music library. The National Anthem? So I’m suspecting Communist ties. However, she did offer to play other patriotic music, and suddenly our house was filled with the sounds of Stars and Stripes Forever, followed by Anchors Aweigh, and then by the Marines’ Hymn.

And then she just stopped, apparently believing that we had heard about enough of patriotic music. Seems fishy, doesn’t it? She didn’t even play the Army song As the Caissons Go Rolling Along, and that was the branch of the military in which Bill served.

Anyway, when Stars and Stripes Forever came on, I will admit to you that I immediately started to cry real tears. I don’t find that song particularly moving, though it’s quite peppy. The reason I started to cry was that it immediately reminded me of Bill’s mother, who passed away in April. Wilma was a music lover, and when we would visit, she would often play one of her CDs on her little boom box. And the one she played most often was a free CD featuring patriotic music she received thanks to a contribution to some veteran’s group, led off by Stars and Stripes Forever. And she would play it loudly and would tap her feet in time to the music. And sometimes sing along. She had a sweet voice.

My dad served in the United States Navy during the later years of World War II.

Memorial Day, of course, is celebrated in honor of the men and women who died on battlefields to keep our country free. Originally called Decoration Day, I learned recently that it wasn’t declared a national holiday until 1971. Wow. Of course, I believe it was Google Home who told me that, and she could have just been trying to send me off course.

Every Memorial Day when we lived in Columbus, Mom would cut flowers from her yard and take them out to the cemetery, where she would arrange them on the grave sites of her mom and dad. Then we would troop over to the memorial garden where my dad’s mom and dad were laid to rest and do the same.

Every single Memorial Day that we have been in town, I have brought flowers to Dad’s and Mom’s grave site. One year we brought a patriotic wreath that Bill had made. I worried about that one, because it was made from artificial flowers, and Mom HATED artificial flowers. I expected her to haunt me all year. The fact that she thought Bill walked on water and he had made the wreath is probably all that protected me. It’s been fresh flowers every since.

Jen came for the barbecue I held yesterday, and she and I went out to the cemetery together. I never feel called to go more often than once a year, because it’s a national cemetery so it is always pristine, and I know Mom and Dad are in heaven. But I try to go once a year, mostly because the cemetery looks so pretty, what with the flags on all of the graves and all….

While both my dad and my husband served in the military, I am pleased that neither one of them lost their lives fighting for our country. Still, their service, and the service of everyone who has served or is currently serving, makes me proud to be an American.

So proud, in fact, that I baked this pie….

Happy Memorial Day!

This post linked go Grammy’s Grid.

Saturday Smile: And Now I’m Ready for Spring

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When I was growing up in Columbus, there was a flower box on either side of the front steps of our family home, and another flower box that went the width of the living room picture window above the fitzer bushes. In the flower boxes on both sides of the front porch Mom put purple flox. In the window box beneath the picture window she put a variety of things. I remember that there were roses for a time, probably until she realized that roses were a pain. (Or maybe I’m externalizing my personal experience with roses.) But for many of the years we lived in that house, she planted geraniums in that box. Good ol’ red geraniums.

Our Columbus home many years after we moved away. The tree to the left was a linden tree when we lived there, and there wasn’t grass growing in the driveway or the sidewalk. In fact, there wasn’t even a sidewalk!

Even though the flower growing season in the mountain towns of Leadville and Dillon, Colorado, where they lived for the next 15 years or so, was short, she always had a pot or two of geraniums. Red geraniums.

And then when they finally really retired (instead of calling working an 8-hour day where you get a paycheck from someone else being retired) and moved to Fort Collins, there were always geraniums in the flower box next to the driveway. Red geraniums.

So it isn’t surprising that the one constant in my flower-growing experiences for the 37 years or so that I have been a home owner has been geraniums. Mostly red geraniums. Once in a while, when I’m at a garden store that offers a variety of geranium colors, I’m tempted. I have occasionally succombed. But in the end, my favorite geraniums are red.

I always, always — every single time — think of my mother when I plant my pots of geraniums. If they didn’t have geraniums in heaven before she arrived, I’m certain they do now. Mom could be quite convincing….

Have a great Memorial Day weekend.

Friday Book Whimsy: An Available Man

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I love a good romance novel as much as the next person, particularly if the romance is part of a really good story. But I must admit that I get a bit tired of being able to tell right from the get-go that a man will be the love interest because they are described as tall and broad-shouldered, with piercing blue eyes. No one falls in love with an average looking fellow with faded brown eyes and a small belly paunch.

Perhaps this is the biggest reason that I so enjoyed An Available Man by Hilma Wolitzer. The main character of the novel is a man in his late 50s who is a high school science teacher. Edward Schuyler is still grieving the death of his beloved wife following her bout with cancer. He can’t seem to find joy in his life anymore, but despite the fact that he’s very lonely, he simply doesn’t seem to have a particular interest in trying to move on.

Without his knowledge, his adult stepchildren take it upon themselves to place an ad in a book review magazine seeking the company of a mature woman for their dad. Pretty soon the replies start pouring in and the children admit to what they had done. Resistant at first, Edward finally realizes that he really would like to have someone with whom to keep company. What follows are a series of sometimes sad, but mostly funny experiences as lonely women clamber to make his acquaintance.

The author writes with a deft hand and a quick wit. Wolitzer presents Edward as a charming, smart, likeable man who isn’t looking to replace his wife but just wants someone to share his life with. He may not be broad-shouldered, but he is kind and funny and deserves the happiness that awaits.

I found this to be a sweet story with an extremely satisfying ending.

Here is a link to the book.

Thursday Thoughts

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Sacagawea
Kaiya was supposed to give her presentation for Night of the Notables at school last week, but she unfortunately got sick and missed the presentation. She got the opportunity to give a make-up performance earlier this week. Her presentation was on Sacagawea, the Shoshone woman who helped pave the way for Lewis and Clark as they made their way through Indian territory. Or at least I think that’s what she did, since I was unable to attend the make-up presentation as my eyes were being peered at by my eye doctor at the time. Kaiya makes an amazing Sacagawea, though, doesn’t she?……

Vrrooom
I think I mentioned that Bill spent a lot of time last summer working on his Ferrari. It had been sitting in our garage like a very fancy paperweight for quite some time. Every day he would put on his grubby oil-stained clothes and tinker and prod and screw and unscrew in an attempt to get it up and running. He was underneath the car so much, in fact, that one day when Cole and I pulled into the garage and got out of my yellow bug, I told Cole, “Let’s go see Papa.” Cole immediately bent over and looked under the car. At any rate, it underwent its first test yesterday. The car started, and Bill took it over to get its emissions inspected. It failed, unfortunately, so a bit more tinkering is called for…..

Mary, Mary, Continued
In the meantime, I continued (and perhaps finished) my seasonal planting. While Kaiya had requested broccoli, I elected not to go that route as I had many people complain about broccoli drawing worms into the garden. Instead, I went with Swiss chard because it’s pretty and I like it….

In the meantime, I got a phone call from Jll telling me that the plants I had purchased from Addie back in February as part of a school fundraiser had arrived and she would deliver them. Of course, since I can barely remember yesterday, I had entirely forgotten that I had purchased a jalapeno plant and two tomato plants. In the meantime, I had purchased more plants which Emma put in the ground for me on Sunday. Since I have run out of room in my little garden, I planted them in pots. I will have plenty ‘o tomatoes and peppers provided the weather cooperates……

Long Stems
While shopping at Whole Foods the other day, I came across these artichokes with the long stems. I had never actually seen them before, though I knew about them. Allegedly, the stems continue the flavor and tenderness of the heart. While the artichokes were delicious, I was wholly unimpressed with the stems, which I found stringy…..

Pretty Girl
Following Addie’s performance in the play, I wasn’t quick enough to get her before she had changed out of her costume. But she looked so pretty that we couldn’t help but take a picture…..

Ciao.

All Hands on Deck

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For a lot of Court’s elementary school years, I was a single parent. If I sound like I’m whining, then shame on me. Because while there certainly are single parents who have a lot about which to whine, I wasn’t one of them. Court’s dad was involved in our lives even after we signed the divorce papers. We shared custody, and he was generous with his time and pocketbook.

What’s more, I was lucky enough to have a boss who believed in the importance of family. As such, I never had to miss a school performance or a teacher conference. I could take my son to doctor’s appointments without having to use my own personal paid time off. I could volunteer in the lunchroom.

Nevertheless, after working all day, coming home and preparing dinner, helping with homework, and (when he was still young) getting him ready for bed, including books and prayers, I was very tired and ready for bed myself.

And I only had one child. One.

So I look at people – even two-parent households — who have two or three or four kids (I simply won’t let myself think about more children than that), and can’t even imagine how they manage. Even if there are two parents, and even if one of the parents doesn’t work outside the home, the simple physics involved in getting each child to the place where they’re supposed to be seems nearly impossible and must involve a spreadsheet. How else do you keep it all organized?

People have asked me if I volunteer now that I’m retired. At first I would say no. And then it occurred to me that the correct answer is that yes, I volunteer – with my grandkids. It’s one of the things I miss most when we are in AZ for the winter. Because trite as it may sound, it really does take a village.

Since we’ve been back – we returned to Denver just over a week ago – I have been to a birthday party….

….watched a field day, kept 3-year-old Cole for a day while his mommy volunteered….

….cheered at Addie’s volleyball game….

….watched Kaiya’s bridging ceremony (during which she actually walked across a little wooden bridge in a park near her house symbolizing her move from being a Brownie to being a Junior Girl Scout)….

….and watched Addie perform magnificently in a play…..

 

All this in addition to my own doctor’s appointment, x-ray appointment, and eye doctor appointment.  No wonder my days sometimes seemed long in AZ. Whew.

The other day, all of the grandparents got an email from Jll early in the morning. Calling all grandparents, she said, though not in those exact words. Something had come up that required her attendance that evening, and each of the four kids had an activity. And none in the same place. Can anyone help, she wondered.

And everyone that could, did. Not only did I attend the volleyball game, but I was the ride home. Bill might have taken Alastair to his baseball game, but it was rained out. Grandma Lynne handled Dagny’s dive practice and Maggie Faith’s school concert.

Whew.

I assure you that I’m not complaining. I love every minute that I spend with my grands. Even time in a car. And while Cole is very busy, he’s also very funny. My grandkids all make me laugh, and it’s good to laugh. And thankfully, Cole wears himself out, as indicated by his falling asleep in a nontraditional spot under the coffee table in our living room….

So children, keep me on speed dial when in need of help. It will help keep me young. Now if I could just figure out a way to use Star Trek technology and get myself to VT to help with the grandkids there!

This post linked to the GRAND Social