Yes, It's a California Post

I'm in the lobby of a chain hotel with a lovely fireplace and the smell of free breakfast in the air: coffee, syrup, and sausage. The tv is playing infomercials (Nutri-Bullet right now,  before was Wen and before that Insanity) and I've been out here since about 5am.  I wanted to let the guys sleep. I only sleep about 6 hours at a time these days, so after getting in bed around 10pm, yes, I was up about 4:30. Awesome. It's become something of a routine, so I'm trying to make the most of my early mornings.

This past week, we've been traveling in California and I tell you, as a place to visit, it has become a favorite. I have no idea if I'd ever actually want to live here, but I sure like looking around. There are oceans, plains, hills, mountains, Joshua trees and cacti. There are mighty cities that give way to enormous fields of real food framed by endless orchards of nuts and fruits.  Beautiful vistas unfold everywhere we go. Admittedly, I'm easy to please and curious about anyplace that's not familiar, and many people would not be quite so thrilled with some of the things that thrill me, but that's okay. I'm having a blast.

We started out in Newport Beach last weekend. That town is seriously like a living museum of What to Do and Buy if You are Among the Much-Monied in America. Houses everywhere that when Zillowed (something you do when you are NOT among the monied) show prices in the multiple tens of millions. Dream cars. As in Lamborghinis and Ferraris and McClarens. Seen every day.  In Newport, a Mercedes C-class or BMW 5-series is the like a Camry or Accord in Real-World America. It is fascinating to observe as an outsider. I'm sure that life has its own kind of normal, and Sam, who served here for 6 months of his mission, loves the town and the people here. That's why we came. We got to meet one of the families who loved and cared for him on his mission, and that was the true treat. They were wonderful and their admiration for my son was evident. Thank you Sanders Family, for your goodness.

It really is beautiful though, both in natural ways and man-made. Here is the view from just outside the condo where we stayed:

I loved Balboa Peninsula for its cottages, set right next to each other; each unique but with a certain style that creates a wonderful, harmonious neighborhood. We had a lovely sunset walk on the beach there:

It's a bit surreal for me to be towered over by my sons in this photo, but it represents a happy memory of easy togetherness. Maybe that is why I love California so much. It is the place where many moments like this one have happened for me and my family. And now my early morning time is gone. More about the rest of the trip soon.

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And Now For Something Completely Different

Nope, it's not knitting, or photography, or even cooking. Not tonight. Tonight was rubber stamping. Yep, that thing I used to do constantly from the time I was about 14 years old but that I haven't done for about 5 or 6 years. 

I was SO rusty and it took forever to come up with something I liked and could actually handle. I stamped no fewer than twenty-five 1x2 inch white rectangles (on BOTH sides) with the words "thank you" before I remembered how to properly line up a stamp, and still the words are off center in every single one. So I distressed those little rectangles, and no one will ever know. 

I like distressing. It means to wreck something on purpose for artistic effect. I know! It's sounds great, right? You should try it. 

Distressing aside, I used techniques that are old and simple; nothing innovative or fashionable here, and please don't zoom in and look closely. There is little of the clean perfection that graces the pages of stamping catalogs. Actually, we probably should call it Wabi Sabi rubber stamping, so put away your rulers. I'm pretty sure Stampin' UP! does not have a Wabi Sabi section in their catalog, but I'm okay with that. 

I never was perfect, but tonight I remembered that I used to be pretty good at this and had some fun. I figured out a design I could mass-produce to send to Sara. It's good for missionaries to have cards and notes on hand, and I still have gobs of supplies, so now I have a cute little set of 10 thank-you notes to send to New Mexico for her to use to share the Love of God with others around her. 

I'm kinda proud of myself, because it really has been years and years...and years!  Every so often I get rid of a few more stamps and sometimes I think it's time to get rid of all of the paper-crafting stuff. Then I go and have a nice, productive evening like this. Sigh. 

Now that I've crashed through the walls of the past to the forgotten crafts, you never know. It might be quilting next. 

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My Part of the Story

Little Feet

Did you know? I'm a grandmother. I really am!  This past week I got to meet a new little person and it was amazing. She's not mine to introduce to you, but I can tell you some wonderful things.

But first, here are the answers to the questions:

It feels fantastic.
No, I don't feel too young.
Congratulations are definitely in order.
I don't mind a bit if you call me Grandma.

I think that covers most of the common ones. It's a pretty big deal, so my friends are curious, and that's okay. I'm 47,  which I supposed could be called young, but is actually a few years older than my mom was when my son Jeff was born. But really, becoming a grandma has nothing to do with age for me. It just feels perfect and right.  A baby is born and I get to take a small step into a whole new world. How lucky am I?

But, as I indicated, it's not really my story. Grandmas are supporting characters, as it should be. I'll have chapters to tell about in future years, but for now, my daughter-in-law and son are the ones who get to share the tale of this little girl, on their own time and in their own way.

But here are those wonderful things:

She has the sweetest, softest skin and when her little warm self curls up into that space on my chest just under my chin, I am pretty sure that the world actually stops spinning.

She's calm and, at under two weeks old, ever-so-drowsy yet. Occasionally though, she opens her eyes and looks at me with that other-worldly gaze that babies do--the one that looks like she is about to explain to me exactly how the world works, but then, just as she's finding the words, she blinks and goes back to sleep with a tiny sigh.

Because of these and so many other moments, I am so very grateful I had the means and the availability to go visit my granddaughter in her brand-new-ness. I loved having her sleeping next to me as I sat on the couch, a tiny warm bundle breathing softly while I folded laundry or knitted. I loved being a bit useful to the new parents and letting them get a couple more hours of sleep. I loved that Ashlyn let me make her dinners and do her dishes. It's not so easy to let a mother-in-law into your life, and each experience I have helps me love her more and better.

Family life is the way to learn most of the best and most profound truths of the universe, and I definitely feel like I understand some of those mysteries perhaps a tiny bit better after holding close a baby who is not mine in most ways, but actually is mine in a few important, miraculous ways.

Welcome, my dear. I can't wait to get to know you better.

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The Present Day

I've been working so hard at catching up on the last 4 months that I've lost the thread of what's happening now. And I all have to show for the attempted traveloguing is a bunch of drafts. I have to get writing again about the things that I'm experiencing instead of focusing so heavily on memories. Maybe that lack of recording in real time is why I'm feeling restless and sort of unsettled right now. So, here it is, my actual daily life.

When last we met, Sara was heading out to the MTC. Her visa to serve in Brazil has not yet come, so she is still in Provo Utah. Her time there will end on Nov. 26, then she will be assigned to serve somewhere in the United States until her visa is processed. That could be anywhere that has a need for more missionaries, from West Virginia to California. She is hoping to go to the Deep South.

Her attitude continues to delight me, and her reports are filled with learning, hope and humility. Here are a few photos to give an idea of what she's up to.

Here she is actually leaving us at the airport:

I do love that spring in her step as she swirls away.

Here are more photos from the MTC:

The 4 women missionaries in her zone. 

She says this is from soon after she arrived. 

Yes, she and the other sisters are making silly faces. 

Sam ran into her and her companion while doing some work
at the MTC

Her last email included this sweetness:

I just wanted to say that life is great. We are so lucky to have the experiences that we have. Even the hard ones, especially since we have someone who knows EXACTLY what we're going through right next to us the whole time. I'm talking about Jesus Christ, if you couldn't guess. He loves us so much that he took on ALL our pains and sicknesses and sadness and of course our sins. Isn't that AWESOME?!?! For you! And you! And all of us! He did this so that we could give it all up to Him. So take advantage of that! Once you've tried your best and can't go on anymore, just pass everything on to our older brother and Savior. He's waiting. 

Now Evan and Eric and I are adjusting back to life as three, and much of that time is spent getting ready for Evan to go away. Just today he tried to have his wisdom teeth surgically removed, but an errant sip of hot cocoa shared by a friend (he was supposed to be totally fasting), then honestly confessed at the surgeon's office caused it to be put off for another 2 weeks. He's also nearly got his college application for BYU finished, and he has started on his missionary application. In between all that he has wrestling season starting up and an Eagle scout project to plan.

It's the busy season for me in both photography and knitting. Things just come up. And of course, I'm going to be a grandmother, which I don't even think I've written about on her yet in any meaningful way. And I've gotten very excited about the work opportunities in front of me right now. And I've STILL been traveling like a fool. And I've got to start making sense of it all.

This is not a particularly good post, and for that I'm sorry, but writing again from my heart, rather than only documenting facts and dates, seems important. I am restless and in one of those cycles where my connections to people around me seem tenuous. I keep getting defensive (and offensive) and saying wrong things and causing awkwardness with people I love.  It's tempting to want to move away and start over somewhere. We've talked about moving down so Eric could walk to work and we could live the urban life for a little while, complete with new sights and sounds and breakfasts at the local cafe and all that. I have to say, after typing that little scenario, it sounds refreshing and right, but it would be so much work to get this house ready to sell, and I'm not sure that is the best use of money right now. I need to consider it more, and remember that wherever I go, there I'll be, including my big mouth, so there are probably better ways to calm the tempest in my heart.

Question for you: Have you ever felt this way? Like you just can't get a human interaction right to save your life? Or is it just me?

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This Is Really Happening!

There is a sense of heightened everything in my life right now. From the mundane to the precious, it all seems exaggerated. 

This weekend, my 4th child and only daughter will be set apart from her peers and her usual pursuits and take on herself the role of full-time missionary. Thus the deeper meanings, this dissonance of temporary finality. It's not the end of anything, but it is the turning of a life's corner.  And so I notice that it's the last time for a while... the last time for this , the last time for that.

Probably the last time for a while Eric and I will be at a restaurant
with these two together (He's here, behind the camera).

Everything is happier. Or a tiny bit sadder. It's the 4th time I've sent off a missionary and you'd think I'd be better at it by now, more poised somehow, or less surprised at the tenderness, but it's like the first time every time because each child is so different. There is nothing routine about packing your child up to eventually travel nearly 5000 miles and live among strangers for 18 months. 

It's awesome in every way, because it's what she wants to do,  yet I'm reeling at the thought of her leaving. I'm so excited for her and all that she will both learn and accomplish, yet I'm not ready for her to go. I'm more than a little taken by surprise that her time at home can now be ticked off easily in hours rather than months or weeks or days. How does that always happen? I'm just going along, trying to keep up with the laundry and bills when, all of a sudden, wheeee! the roller coaster of my life goes down another giant hill and all I can do is put my hands in the air and give in to gravity. 

Swoop! 

She's had a long wait since her assignment came in June and she's worked hard to prepare. We have a few tasks left to complete, such as some last-minute mending and alteration of clothes, and choosing a coat and boots for cold times, but all she really has left to do is pack her suitcases.  

Now it's my turn to get ready. She asked me last night if I would cry. I gave my canned answer which is, "Not in your presence." She is not a cryer. She will keep all her butterflies on leashes, stride off and probably not even look behind her at the airport security gate. I, of course, will stay and watch until she goes through the line, then through the scanner and then walks down the concourse, until I really can't see her anymore. 

But not yet. I have a few more days to hear her laughter and be amazed by the person she's becoming right before my eyes as she rises to this very big occasion. That's the very best part of all and that I will enjoy. Every single minute. 

Swoop indeed!

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