St. Petersburg, Russia, and Cruising

I grew up in a generation that feared the Russians. In the early 90s I was in the Thousand Oaks, California audience for the performance of the Red Star Army Chorus when they brought the audience to its feet, and most of us to tears by singing God Bless America. Even then, I never expected to walk the streets of a Russian city, tasting its beauty and photographing the extravagance of its culture.

As always, sharing the adventure with family made it so much more special. The cruise ship's second stop was St. Petersburg, Russia. Ben and I were both in pain, and everything we wanted to see seemed miles away, but we walked for hours, and the weather held off from its expected downpour until we returned to the ship. People in costume posed with tourists like us for a small sum, and we thought it was worth it a couple of times.

There are many photos that show John looking back, and that was because I continually limped along behind the group. I guess he figured they'd eventually lose me, but they never did. 

The buildings were amazing, a blend of spectacular and military grey. There was enough gold on some of them to fund a third world country. It will never be scraped off the buildings, of course, since it is their country's heritage in many ways, but it still astounded me to see the glitter next to the somber darkness of some of the older buildings. It is a country of contrasts, if St. Petersburg is anything to go by. Here's your Slideshow.


After wearing ourselves out trying to see everything possible in the city, we made our way back to the cruise ship, and I enjoyed my "daily spa treatment." I should explain that. The first night on board ship, Ben let us know he was going to the ship's spa for a drawing. Hardly anyone knows about this sort of thing, as they're off drinking and exploring. Ben always checks things out, and had learned that there was a "have to be there to win" drawing for products and services in the ship's spa. I invited myself along and got in on the draw. Ben and I sat there and listened to name after name being called, with the people not being present. It ended up with Ben and me each winning $250 in spa services. He used his for a couples massage with Ruth, but I split mine up for the daily massage specials, which meant I got a massage and facial every day we were on the ship, except for the day we disembarked. Sweet. Thanks, Ben. I've never used a ship's spa before. I'd never had a facial before—good things, both.




I spent the next day either with the kids or on deck photographing the Baltic as we went through the passage. It was beautiful, and sunset that night was incredible. I love being on the ocean, and a day at sea is a pleasure for me. 


The next morning, as we made our way through the small inhabited islands of the Baltic approaching Sweden once again, I enjoyed the early morning fog and mist that rose from homes and churches dotting what I believe was Finland for a time. It was remote and beautiful, and it appeared that people came and went by boat. 

There were few people out as early as I was, but I didn't miss having them in my photos. Some of the islands were tiny, and some were fairly large. You'll see a larger sampling on the Cruise Slideshow. 

We pulled into Stockholm at the end of the trip and were among the first to return to land. I have already shared photos of Sweden before and after the cruise, but there's one little side trip I failed to include. We went to a mall for ice cream, and I have to admit it was one of the most interesting presentations I've ever had. They split open an absolutely delicious cupcake or muffin, at the choice of the one ordering, and filled the split with an ice cream or frozen yogurt of your choice. It was way too much, I thought, for one person to eat alone, and the girls had cones instead, which they loved, but Ruth showed us the truth of the old verse: Where there's a will, there's a way.

Tallinn, Estonia—First Cruise Stop

Each of the three years we've gone to visit the kids in Amsterdam, we've gone on an adventure together. This year our adventure was a trip to Sweden, followed by a cruise to Tallinn, Estonia and St. Petersburg, Russia, then a day cruising in the Baltic Sea, returning to Stockholm.

I've been working on a slide show for the Tallinn, Estonia portion of our trip this morning, while I'm "fresh." Physical Therapy yesterday took a lot out of me, but gave me hope that there's light at the end of the tunnel. There's just no replacement for a great physical therapist. I'm not sure how many years of training they have to go through, but the good ones, and I know I have one of the best, have magic hands and an incredible font of knowledge.

Estonia, at least the corner we visited, wore its age well. I would have loved to see it without all the tourists, but since we were part of the horde, I shouldn't complain. Everything in America seems fresh and young by comparison to cities and countries in Europe. They treasure their history, at least in the places we've visited. You'll see a modern building, something from the last fifty years or later, next to a building hundreds of years old that's been preserved and is still in use. They exist side by side and add character to the city.

As always, seeing these places with family make them more special, and going through the photos brought the memories back to life. I remember Kate having a melt down and wanting to be held, and how Ben picked her up and walked with her, even though his back was beyond painful. Ruth was so upset that he wasn't taking care of himself, I thought she'd grab the child away from him, but she allowed him to do what he felt he must. Their respect for each other, as always, melted something inside me—and Kate calmed down instantly.


Ben always researches thoroughly whatever places we'll visit and finds the most interesting things. Tallinn happens to have an out of the way romantic spot... a kissing statue that's said to be good luck for couples who stand and kiss next to it. They couldn't resist. We were coerced. Let's say we couldn't resist them. The photos of that are proof enough, and are in the slide show.

After walking back to the cruise ship and making arrangements to meet for dinner, I took something for pain and headed for the ship's spa and a massage. I was counting my blessings with every step. Enjoy the slide show. They represent precious memories to me.

Paris for Two

Just the two of us? But we don't speak French... I really wasn't in favor of this trip at the beginning. I could picture getting lost and people laughing at us as we tried to communicate in sign language. I don't know sign language.

But Benjamin told me that Paris was the number one tourist destination in Europe for a reason, and this would probably be our last opportunity to see it. We should go. Alone. The two of us together. An early 35th anniversary trip.

I was excited, yet I was moderately terrified. I thought of the Louvre. I thought about walking along the Seine and seeing the Arc de Triomphe. Going up in the Eiffel Tower sounded like something I could force myself to do. Maybe. I found out it wasn't scary at all.

Most of all, I wanted to go to mass at Notre Dame. We did that, and although I didn't get much out of the sermon, not speaking any French besides ferme la buche (probably spelled wrong, but means shut your mouth) which I don't think the priest had call to use, it was beautiful. And the organ music was enough to make angels weep. Before leaving I was able to light a candle for my mom and Papa John in front of the rose window.

A little warning...if you ever want to go to church there, make sure to arrive at least an hour before service starts so you can actually get a seat.

John and I went on a wonderful cruise of the river Seine, ate crepes along the way (chocolate) and took photos. The bridges are amazing. We saw a bride and groom walking along, him fussing with her dress, and it seemed a sweet moment in time to me. There was also a boat accident that confused us, since nobody else on our boat seemed at all concerned about it, even though divers were going under the water and an ambulance was racing along the shore toward the craft. We never found out what had happened.

I'm not sure what kind of ceremony was going on at the Arc de Triomphe the day we were there, but they rather quickly closed it off from regular tourists and a bunch of military types swarmed in with flowers and such. It would have been so nice if I hadn't run my battery out of juice just at that moment.

We loved our time in Paris, and it amazed me how easy it was to get around on their rapid transit lines. Their metro is slick and well organized. I imagine anyone who can read any language using the same alphabet could very quickly learn their way around the city. Each stop has bullet points that show which connections can be made from there, so if you know what line you need to get to, it's easy to see where you need to transfer. They've made it simple.

I loved their train terminal. After having gotten lost and making it to our train by only three minutes in Amsterdam, where you absolutely must ask someone where your train is, since there's no sign telling you, this was pure pleasure. Everything was big, bright and very obvious. Yes, my slideshow is somewhat long, but maybe you can tell me later what I could have cut out. I couldn't decide.

July in California—Family Gatherings

July only seems like ages ago because so much has happened since. My camera is the best indicator. I've taken over 2,500 photos since then. No, I'm not going to share them all. Don't you feel lucky? Here are some of my treasures, though, and a short slide show of moments and memories we shared.

We arrived in California on the Fourth of July and our first stop was at Aunt Lisa's home in Simi Valley. She's our Ruth's sister, Aunt to our grandchildren. We shared a pot luck and went on to their church's big grassy yard to watch the children play until the fireworks started. There were the requisite oohs and aahs, of course, and then we split up for our own beds. It was the first time we'd met our newest Grandson, Aiden. It had also been ages since we'd enjoyed a face to face visit with our granddaughters or our youngest son Ben and his wife Ruth. Simply put, it was a splendid evening together.

The week had a couple of other events I'll share. Beach day was a special memory. I know, I don't much care for the beach, even though I love the ocean. I just don't love the sand. It's hard to walk on and gets everywhere you don't want it to be. It's fun to watch the kids play in it, though, and I think you can do anything with grandchildren and have a blast.

The other really special day was visiting Great Grandma Zimmerman, my mom. Papa John spent most of the time we were there in another room. His eyes were bothering him, and the flash of the camera was upsetting him, so he didn't get in any photos that day. I'm more sorry about that than I can express, especially since he's gone now. The pictures we got were wonderful, though, and I'll share those. The girls loved picking oranges from Great Grandma's trees.

Finally, if you have time, I put togethe

r a little slideshow. This one isn't too long. As I progress through our European holiday later in the coming weeks, they might get out of control, but for now I'm using restraint.

Last Night of Vacation

We've been gone nearly a month now, and tomorrow morning we'll head back to the airport and take flight back across the Atlantic Ocean toward home. There will be many hours in the air, eight time zones crossed, and a few hours and customs to pass through in Washington D.C. before the final flight to Colorado.

So much has happened this month, it will take many posts to share it all. The first step, once we return home, will be to download my camera of all the priceless photos I've taken. I'm grateful for the digital camera we have, since I already know we have beautiful images to share, and I'll do some slide shows that capture the best of our memories—I hope.

Our first week with the kids and grandkids was wonderful, and then John and I left for Paris together. It surpassed any expectations I had. I can honestly say it was one of the more remarkable cities I've visited, and I didn't feel hampered by my ignorance of the language. People treated us beautifully. I did learn to say "Good day, do you speak English?" in French, which probably helped quite a bit. Most people did, at least enough for our needs. I can hardly wait to share our visit to Paris with you all.

Shortly after our return to The Netherlands, we all boarded a jet together and flew to Stockholm, Sweden. Ben put his back out just before we left, so he was in a considerable amount of pain. It made getting baggage and children from place to place a little crazy. That's part of the Sweden story, but it's just a side bar to several days that were great despite Ben's pain and rainy weather.

We took a cruise from there, and the story will continue with tales of Estonia and St. Petersburg, Russia. What an amazing city that was! You'll see by the photos. We walked our legs off, but there was so much to see that it was worth it.

Our day at sea would seem to have been a time when the camera might not be used, but my photos that day were wonderful as well, from the grandchildren, to photos of the fiords we were passing through, and capped off by a spectacular sunset. It was heavenly.

We returned for another couple of days in Stockholm, where we got the news that my step father of 30 years had been transfered to a Hospice Home for his final days. I knew we wouldn't be able to make it back to my Mom before he passed away, and it saddened me. We waited and prayed as we continued on, flying back to Amsterdam on the 20th, four days before Papa John passed away.

So it's been a long month, and we'll be taking another trip to California to see Mom after we get home. The memorial service is being delayed so family can gather. It'll be on the 16th of September. Hopefully our jet lag and laundry will be memories by the time we pull out of the driveway to head out there. And I'll have at least one or two cities posted. Tomorrow is for flying. Tonight is for sleeping. Goodnight, Moon.

We're Not In Kansas Anymore

No. We're not in Colorado, either. We're back in Amsterdam after three days in Paris. I'll do a city by city detailed account with photos when we return home, but I did want to update you on some of the highlights while they're fresh.

We had no reason to fear being Americans without any French language skills. The people we met were charming and friendly. Our time there was beyond special, if not without trials. Getting out of Amsterdam proved to be a trial because the metro line we were to take no longer connected to our destination due to work on the line. None of us knew that, however, and every time we got on one of the trams, it let us off at the next stop. We made it to Amsterdam Central Station with 30 minutes to spare, but there are no signs telling people where to go for which train, so you have to ask. No one knew—and John needed a bathroom. We finally decided to stop looking for one of those and continue looking for the train.

We wound up on a track that I was sure was the right place. Someone in a uniform came along, and I thought I'd verify with him by showing him our tickets. He said, No, go over there and pointed across the rails to the other side of the track. We had ten minutes before the train was to leave, so we rushed down the track, a set of stairs, a concourse, then up another set of stairs and down that track. It took five minutes to get to the top. No one was there. I looked across to where we had been and saw a train was now boarding. I yelled across at a different man in uniform. Is that the train to Paris? Yes, he said. It leaves in four minutes. Hurry! We ran all the way back, suitcases bumping down the stairs, and were out of breath, and the last the board the train before it pulled out 30 seconds after we got on. John got to use the W.C. on board.

The train station in Paris is very different. Everything is well marked. You would have to be an idiot to get lost there, I think. We had no trouble finding our way from the train to the metro, nor did I have any difficulty buying tickets for two two-day Metro passes and a one way Metro ticket each for our trip that evening to the hotel.

Some of the images I'll keep in my head forever from Paris are the man playing violin in the Metro station while he waited for his train to come. The trio practicing with keyboard, sax, and horn that we rode with long enough one of the days to hear Blue Moon and Hello Dolly. They were really good. Reading signs and realizing I could understand some of them. Watching John try to find a cup of American coffee. He'd end up drinking espresso and being polite about it, but he never did find what he was looking for. The bread! I'll probably dream about the breads we ate... baguettes, croissants, breads I have no idea what their sweet little French names were. They'll all live in my heart forever, absolutely delicious.

One thing we realized when we got on the train is that my beautiful raincoat got lost somewhere—probably on the last train they crammed us into on our way to Central Station. It was standing room only, and they were starting and stopping at full speed. People were falling into each other, and John took my hat and raincoat along with all the baggage to keep me from getting hurt, so I'd have two hands to hold onto the pole with. He's a good guy like that. We met a wonderful clerk in a boutique next to the hotel after getting caught in a rainstorm. She had nothing under 400 euros, and I told her that was over my means. She gave me directions to a store near the Louvre. Wait until you see my Paris raincoat! I've never had anything so beautifully made. And that kind lady was right. We paid 68 euros for it. I can't get over the detailing on it.

When I revisit the cities one by one (with photos) I'll go into details on The Louvre and The Eiffel Tower, the Arch de Triumphe and Notre Dame. Meanwhile, just know that I wouldn't trade these memories. And I'm so grateful I have John for my traveling companion. He's the best.

Happy Days

We've been enjoying our first few days in The Netherlands with the kids. Unfortunately, Ben has had to work, since it's been mid-week, but we've seen him in the evenings for dinner and usually a movie and conversation at night. One of the highlights is always their bedtime routine with the children. We're lucky to have them raising our grandchildren. They're great parents.

What makes their bedtime routine so special is that it's a family affair. In most homes, including ours when the children were small, bedtime involves parents telling the children it's time to go to bed and the little ones arguing about it and bouncing out of bed for a while until both children and parents are exhausted. While this is going on, the parents attempt to talk or watch television.

Here, bedtime is something to look forward to. They climb the stairs together, Mama and Daddy supervise the choice of pajamas and help with brushing of teeth and other necessary chores. Then the fun begins. First they read a scripture, followed by a story. The children take turns picking out what story is going to be read. Then they each choose two songs to sing together, and everyone sings along. After that, each one takes a turn describing the most special part of their day. This is followed up with bedtime prayers and tucking in the little ones. Daddy then produces a children's travel type spill-proof bottle of water for each of them, and it goes on the corner of their headboards. A final kiss goodnight, the covers are pulled up, and the children are down for the count. It's really beautiful.

During the day Ruth is constantly picking up toys, cooking, and doing craft projects with the girls. Day before yesterday she let us sort colors from a box of Fruit Loops into little cups. Then we transferred each color into a plastic baggie and mashed them up with a rolling pin, then put them back into the cups. Each of us (yes, Grandma made a picture, too) got a sheet of construction paper. We'd paint with glue and sprinkle Fruit Loops onto it. Shake the extra back into the bowl and then glue paint where you want the next color. It was really fun. The pictures, once dry, got hung in the entry way for Daddy's loud exclamations of amazement.

Today John and I will travel (alone!) to Paris. We're taking the train, and we're both moderately terrified. Neither of us speak French, of course. I get lost really easily, so can't be left alone anywhere. It wasn't always this way, but certainly is now. (Have a few seizures and see what changes for you...) Ben made all the travel arrangements—train and hotel, so that's half the battle. We just have to figure out how to get from the train station to the hotel, and from there to everything we want to see.

You'll probably get updates, since the Concorde La Fayette, our hotel, has free WiFi. I wish we had thought to pack the GPS. Or maybe it wouldn't work over here. I think we would have had to buy maps. Probably worth it. At least I've got the iPad to help now. I think I can find anything on it that I could on a computer. Oh. It is a computer. It's so small and portable I almost forgot. The whole house is sleeping, and I'm sitting at the kitchen table posting a blog on my iPad. How sweet it is. Thank you, John. He thought it was a smart decision for my writing, and he's definitely be correct.

So as you are all heading into the end of your Friday, we're starting our Saturday here. Blessings to us all.

Early to Bed

I actually went to bed at 8 o'clock tonight. We leave the house at 4:15 a.m. tomorrow to catch a ride with our good neighbor Doug to the local bus connection that will take us to Denver International Airport. From there we'll be on the 10:03 United flight to Houston where we'll change planes and continue on to The Netherlands. We'll land the next morning in Amsterdam at 8:20 in the morning.

Now it's almost 10, two hours later, and sleep has evaded me. I have mental images of grandchildren running up to greet me, warm hugs from my son and daughter-in-law warming my soul. I guess I can sleep on the plane. I've got a Karen Kingsbury novel all queued up on my iPod to keep me company on the plane if I don't sleep, but since we arrive in the morning, I hope I'll drift off at some point. Still, I'm sure an afternoon nap will be in order the day we arrive.

Swallowing my pride, I decided to take along my cane for use in the airport. My hip has been giving me fits lately. It's painful, which I'm used to, but it's also been collapsing under me unexpectedly at times, which is disconcerting to say the least. It won't hurt to have the extra support if I need it. The can is light weight and collapsable for when it's not in use. If there are stairs, or we hit rough weather on the cruise ship, I may find I'm glad I took it. Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. I'm also taking along some extra empty zip lock baggies so I can ask for ice if the hip or my shoulders get really bad on the plane.

I'm asking myself the same pre-travel question as always. What am I forgetting? The only thing I'm sure of this time (so far) is wrapping paper for Kate's 3rd birthday gifts. I already warned Ruth, and she says we'll handle that when we arrive. At least I'm happy with the presents, and I can always use tin foil. My mom often used tin foil with pennies taped onto it. As a kid, I thought that was awesome.

We had friends from church over tonight, and it made me think about how difficult it is for me, as an adult, to make close friends. I can count on my fingers the number of tight friendships I have. Still, those I count as friends remain that way indefinitely, because I don't put up a mask. What they see is what they get. Tammy and Matt didn't stay long, but we made plans for S'Mores when we get back. We originally met them through the Financial Peace class we took. That class was a blessing in many ways. Matt is one of the men John works with now in the sound booth at church. It's so nice when both halves of the couples really like each other. I'm glad we got to see each other before we leave.

It'll be difficult to post much while we're gone, but I'll try to write once in a while. Photos of the trip will come after our return on the 27th, most likely few if any earlier than that. I hope you each have blessings in your life during this next month. I know I will—new places to visit, and my arms full of grandchildren.

Are We There Yet?

As difficult as this trip has been, there have been bright spots of joy blended into the mix. I'll begin with those, then explain the current predicament and when we plan to return home.

We've spent time with our youngest son, his beautiful wife and their children—our grandchildren. I got real giggles from Aiden when I called him a "cheap date" at the frozen yogurt store. We met up there for an evening treat. Grandpa decided to buy for everyone, but Aiden is only four months old. He didn't get any. He was happily watching everyone enjoying their choices when I told him he was a cheap date, and he must have thought that was the funniest thing I had ever said. Laughing babies are such a blessing. Granddaughters enjoying frozen desserts are, as well.

It was more fun with a cold delicious bowl than I ever remember having before. By the way, I chose banana with miniature Reece's Cups on the top. From my point of view, it was perfect. We went from there to Target, where we walked around and the girls got to pick out their new backpacks and lunch boxes. They both wanted the same ones, so Ruth is going to have fun making sure each girl gets the right bag and box when it's time to leave home. Maybe she'll put names on them. Disney Princess bags and Tinkerbell lunch boxes won the competition in both little hearts.

Yesterday morning the local theatre had a free showing of How to Train Your Dragon. Neither of the girls had ever been to a show in public before, although they watch movies at home with the family. They did beautifully. John and I joined them, and Ben bought a huge bag of popcorn to share. It was a movie John and I had seen before, but it was much more fun with the girls. I was amazed at just how respectful and quiet they were. Kate isn't three yet. Ashley is just four. I figured their first trip to the movies would entail some hushed whispering about behavior. It never needed to happen.

Some memories are worth more than gold. Near the end of the movie, when things were getting really exciting, Kate reached up and kissed my cheek. I looked over and she smiled at me. I held out my arms and she climbed on my lap for the last ten or so minutes of the film. It reminds me of that wonderful old hymn... "Precious memories, how they linger. How they ever flood my soul."

These moments have kept us sane. We return to the home where my mom is dealing with deterioration and dementia. My step father is not doing well. It appears he has had new small strokes that effect his balance, and he can no longer walk properly. He keeps falling and wants no one to help but her. She can no longer leave the house. He won't cooperate with anyone else. He barely eats. Doesn't want the walker. Refused assistance from the nurses (2) and physical therapist who have come to the house to help Mom.

It's been a nightmare for her, and an exercise in frustration and patience for us. We can keep her grocery list filled. I can change her bandage twice a day while she heals from her surgery. I make sure she's not spending her energy on cooking or clean-up. I can lend an ear and a shoulder to lean on. What needs most to be done is beyond me. I cannot make her see the need for him to be in a care facility. I can't show her how emotionally fragile she's become without upsetting her more.

Big brother to the rescue. We'll leave for home Sunday after church. Pat and his wife will arrive Sunday afternoon. Already I know we've stayed beyond what is wise. I run out of my medications five doses before arriving home. It's the seizure medication that worries me most. I'll call my neurologist today and see if he can phone in a small prescription to get us home. The blessing, all problems aside, is knowing Pat & Betty will be here to support Mom. You can get a clear image of them. Think salt of the earth.

We can head for home knowing Mom won't be left alone to make impossible decisions.

Ode To So Cal Friends

After a couple of days in California, I've stopped to think about my attitude toward the State. People I love live here, and many of those who have moved away can't wait to visit. If I could get the people I love to visit us in Colorado instead, I probably wouldn't come back unless we were going to Disneyland. I do love Disneyland, especially on a drizzly day when there aren't too many people around.

I'm not sure how a person can live somewhere for over 35 years and never feel like that's where their roots are. It was home, but my heart wasn't in it. We had some wonderful years in California. Friends worth driving two days to see still live here and have never driven out to see us—yet. Sooner or later they will also retire, and travel will undoubtedly go both ways. It's beside the point.

What I'm trying to discern is my emotional distance from an area that holds so many ties for me. I have friends, relatives and a history here. I drive past the home where we lived from 1976 until 2006, and there isn't even a twinge of nostalgia. We raised three sons there, and I feel all the emotional impact imaginable when I think of them, but looking at that house that used to be our home? I feel nothing beyond what I would feel staring at an old piggy bank used to save up to buy what you really wanted.

We used to drive through Hidden Valley together, John and I, and he'd say, "Someday I want an acre of my own." Even then John felt about the suburbs the way I did. Now we have that acre and a little more. One of the things we first liked about the home we chose in 1976 was that it was at the end of a dead end road, turn right, and pass three vacant lots. They put the road through, made it a major traffic artery, and put homes so close together on all those vacant lots there were twice as many students in the classrooms at the local school.

Crowding, of course, combined with traffic is bad. Weather is something very few people complain about in Southern California. Except me. I always did. I think you have to have seasons. I don't like Summer to begin with. If I don't get a Winter to balance it, then I'm really cranky. If it's just one of four seasons, then I can deal with it (as long as I have air conditioning.) The rumor in Southern California is that it really doesn't get that hot, so you don't need a/c. Lies, I tell you—lies! You need it. My air conditioning system was about four showers a day and a fan in every room.

But...today my friend Sherrie (one of the people worth a 20 hour road trip to see) took me for a drive. We saw Lake Sherwood and Hidden Valley. She drove me up Potrero Road, and we saw the old hills where John and I used to drive and dream together of our 'someday' acre. The beauty is still there. It was hot, but it's Summer, so it's probably hot at home, too. There was traffic, but there's traffic aplenty in Denver. I wouldn't be able to live in Denver, either.

As always, I come to a point where I know that I'm glad I came. Even though I never managed to grow roots here, so many wonderful people did, that part of my heart will always feel welcome to visit.

Notes From The Road

All I had to do all day was look out the window to see why we never drive on holidays. Yet here were are, driving on a holiday weekend. Hello, Fourth of July traffic. All the idiots are out, and all the police vehicles you'd think people would notice. Cars whip past us as we follow the posted limits. Then we pass many of them as they sit hunched over the wheel down the road, uniformed officer at their window. Do they think they're invisible or just above the law?

We passed a herd of bison as we climbed the Eastern slope of the Rockies, and normally we would have stopped for photos, but this is not a normal trip. We're heading to California to see family and meet our newest grandson for the first time. If we want to make it in time for the fireworks to begin, we

can't make any unscheduled stops.

A sudden heavy rain cleans our windshield, and a slick convertible races past, top down. The driver's hair is plastered to his skull, and his passenger is slumped in her seat. She appears to be yelling at him. John is laughing, enjoying the scene. I get a mental image of the driver eventually pulling over. He opens his door and a flood comes out of the car. John pulls up by the passenger door and offers the lady his hanky.

Within a half hour we had gone from 61° in a Rocky Mountain rain storm to low 90s. By the time we stopped in Parachute I no longer wanted to look at our temperature gauge. We dropped off a birthday gift for my sister in law, promised a longer visit on our way home and got back into the air conditioning with refilled coffee mugs and empty bladders. Leaving Parachute behind, we crossed the Colorado River and noticed how full and swift it is this year. It looks beautiful.

Have you ever seen a horse with a bit between its teeth? We finally walked into our hotel room in Mesquite, Nevada just before midnight. The time change allowed us to turn the clocks back to eleven, but that didn't help my body much. Now it's time for breakfast and today's run. We have grandchildren to see, kids and a mother waiting. Fun and fireworks. I hope they're ready to see Grandma sleeping. Just kidding.

Loving the Internet

I'm sitting comfortably at Pat and Betty's home in Parachute. He's my brother, and she's his wife and treasure. I wish we could stay for a long visit, since they're great people. We always enjoy seeing them, but we'll leave early in the morning. (I can say anything I want. They don't read blogs—anybody's. Not even mine...)

My feet are up, my laptop balancing on my legs, and I just finished doing some research. I'm so grateful for the internet. How would I learn how to write a synopsis without it? We'd have to stop at a book store, I guess, and buy references with our gas money. Or food money. I wonder why I didn't realize I would need to have a synopsis ready if the editor at the pitch session yesterday wanted to see more of my book. It's ready. I'm not. No synopsis. I should have known.

I have now printed about 30 pages of contradictory information to read in the car tomorrow as we continue on toward California. Then I'll write the synopsis as if it needed to be even better than A Different Song, the novel it will represent. After that, I can attach it to an email along with my first three chapters, as requested, and send it to New York.

Am I excited? Do bears... oh, that's not appropriate, is it? I may be pre-published, but I'm still professional, right? Let's just say I'm decidedly satisfied with life.

All Packed Up and Places To Go

Springtime in the Rockies is never my first choice for leaving home. We are, however all packed up and more or less ready to leave in the morning.

Nature bid us goodbye with a rollicking thunderstorm today. Everything stopped while I listened to the pounding rain as the storm crossed the lake and passed over the house. Hail came down for awhile adding its clattering music while daylight hid behind the clouds. An hour later it was gone and the sun was again shining on my budding iris plants. I pray they'll wait to flower until our return. I hope the deer hold off on having their little spotted babies until then, too. The fawns are usually running all around our acre by now.

We had already been to town for my Critique Group meeting, and it went very well indeed. It's a fine group of six—a fairly new group, still getting to know each other. We write everything form fantasy to Westerns. Each one is a serious writer, which makes the group meetings lively and intense while still being helpful and friendly. They're all supportive of my adventure tomorrow as I go to pitch my novel at a mini conference near Denver.

Yes, I'm excited. I'm much calmer than I was three weeks ago. Much more prepared. John will have the utility trailer hitched behind us when we arrive at the conference, since we'll head across the Rockies as soon as it ends. We won't see home for almost three weeks. Tomorrow night we'll stay with my brother and his wife, and spend Sunday with them as well. It will be good to get in a good visit with them.

Monday morning we'll head to the Las Vegas area, and Tuesday we'll arrive in California. We take it a lot slower when we pull the trailer. Don't expect regular blogs while we're on the road. We'll be staying with my ninety year old mom. She doesn't believe in the internet. It's alright, though. She says the internet doesn't believe in her, either.

We're coming, Mama. I can hardly wait to see you.

Plans Are Good

It's said that life is what happens while you're making other plans. I suppose that's why people buy trip insurance. Sounds like a good idea to me. Seems like forever since I actually got around to my blog. It's been nearly four months, and that's definitely too long. I'll begin by saying there's no excuse. Then I'll give you no excuses, but tell you what I've been doing.

I've been writing. Remember my novel? I decided it was high time I got busy re-writing the entire thing and getting it ready to offer up for publication. Is it ready? Nope. But I'm taking some editing classes and business for writers classes. Tomorrow I have a class on copyright law—just an hour at the Northern Colorado Writer's Studio. We'll all bring lunch and listen to some really important information. It's so great to be surrounded by professionals. Then on Friday I'll be back at the studio for my Critique Group. I just got word from one of my critique partners that he thought this week's submission was my best yet. They're all helping me work through some of the rough spots on the novel.

Now I'm pushing backward for a couple of weeks, trying again to be satisfied with the first chapter (I'm not) because I'll be pitching said novel to an editor on May 21st. As I told some of my email buddies, pitching is such a great word for it. My stomach has already started.

The next day we'll take off for California to visit my mom. We'll stop on the other side of the Rockies to visit my brother Pat and his wife Betty on our way there, then stay overnight in Henderson, outside Las Vegas. Before we leave California to return home, and it'll be a fairly quick trip altogether, we'll make a run up to San Francisco to see Tighe, our oldest son. Our return trip will take us through Salt Lake City to see Stacey and Ryan, friends who deserved a visit in December and didn't get one. I was an emotional mess then and was afraid to meet their baby son. Sorry, Sully. I'm much better now.

We need to be home by June 9th or 10th, since I believe I'm singing in church again on the 12th. I should double check that on Sunday, shouldn't I...

Then we'll be running back to California for a flying trip in July to meet our newest grandson, Aiden and see our beautiful granddaughters, Kate and Ashley. It's hard to see them so seldom, but so special when we do get together. They're flying out for their annual leave, timed for her family reunion, so part of the time there they'll be unavailable to us. That being the case, we'll only be with them a short time, but it won't be a problem since we'll be seeing them again shortly after that.

We'll return home only until August, when we'll have a grand celebration of our 35th anniversary. Like I tell John—ten wonderful years! (And he's starting to understand my sense of humor.) We'll go to The Netherlands, Sweden, Estonia and St. Petersburg, Russia. Sounds beyond wonderful to me... Time to start looking at travel blogs again.

Am I ever glad we spent thirteen weeks going to Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace Institute classes at our church! We're in better financial shape for taking a trip like this than we've ever been. Ever. And I may never see London or Paris, but I've never chosen the best traveled path in my life. Why should I start now? Thanks, Ben, for wanting such an interesting adventure. I can hardly wait. And yes, I did buy the trip insurance...

On The Road Again

We've been at my mom's in California, gone from home for nearly two weeks. We went to help her celebrate her 90th birthday, and it was really great to be with her. We also got to see some dear friends, although we were very rushed, since we were only there a week, plus three days on the road each way.

My sister Ellen is always the best hostess. She put together a marvelous dinner party for Mom and us on the 11th, with home made manicotti, too many great appetizers to count, and a beautiful cake she created out of a cheesecake and cream puffs. It was drizzled with chocolate syrup, and topped with candles—not only beautiful, but perfectly delicious. As always, I left wanting more of my sister.

We'll stay home long enough to unpack, wash clothes, repack, go to church, and bake cookies for our good neighbor Doug, who watches over our home when we're traveling (and when we're home, he's just a great guy to have around.) Then on Monday we'll take off again. We'll go to Louisiana. What? We were just there. We just don't want the kids to be alone on Christmas. Why should we do Christmas alone at our home, and have them be alone at theirs? It's better to be together.

We'll pull the trailer and continue to pray for decent weather and safety on the road, since we don't usually travel during the Winter months. This time the trailer will have their new bed in it, and they'll have John to help them turn the nursery into a guest room. I'm so glad they wanted us back. It seems unfair that some strange mess up has postponed their trip, but there's nothing any of us can do about that. We do only what we can. The rest is out of our hands.

Someone at Bingo, referring to the tragedy of Jeremiah's death, asked me why this would happen. "How can things like this happen? It's so unfair!" I've heard that so frequently lately, and I know what they mean. I told her what I've heard myself saying lately. Unless we're going to question every blessing we receive, it's not really fair to question the trials.

I've had too many blessings to count. We're going to Shreveport to visit a couple of them.

Laughing and Waiting in Shreveport

After five days in Dallas visiting John's cousins, we traveled on to Shreveport, Louisiana to see Jeremy and Elisha. Their son, Jeremiah True, our first grandson and third grandchild, is due on the 17th of this month. We've been having so much fun visiting and laughing together.

There are too many things parents have to buy when they're expecting a child—especially their first. People have been very generous, sending them gifts for this baby, but there were still many additional expenses for them, of course. I finally had to explain that the fun part of being Grandparents is that we don't have to buy anything. Whatever we get is the fun stuff that we decide we simply want to buy. Today we found nine Dr. Seuss books at Sam's Club. I had already checked prices on them at Amazon, and these came three for eleven something. The ones at Amazon would have been nearly triple that. What fun to fill a grandchild's book shelf. (Well, he still needs the shelf...)

Jeremy has to work tomorrow, so Elisha and I plan to go to her favorite craft store where they do ceramic painting. We're going to do a piggy bank for Jeremiah. I have a feeling John will stay at their house, working on his "Daddy Do" list. He's really been going through a bunch of fix-up projects for them. What a hero.

This has been a wonderful trip. Their home is warm and welcoming, and they're so cute in their excitement. I just love being here.

Quick Update

Two days after I had the epidural on my back, we got in the car to drive to California. It wasn't the best timing, but that couldn't be helped. The epidural did help. It didn't help as much as I hoped, but made it so I'm much more mobile than I was. It looks like I'll either be seeing my old back doctor while I'm here, or having back surgery when I get home. I haven't decided yet, but the option is available to see my good old doc for another epidural here. The doctor who did the last one said it might be necessary.

We hit town the same time as a heat wave. I understand there's one going on in Colorado as well, though, so I shouldn't say too much—except that I'm more comfortable at home. And we do have cheaper electricity, so we keep it cooler. Is that enough?

The music for Pastor Stan's welcome back service at St. Matthews went well, I think. I got applause just for standing up and walking to the mic. That's never happened before. It made me feel very welcome, and it also kicked my sense of humor into action. I almost said, "Thank you," and turned to sit back down again. The only thing that kept me from it was seeing so many new faces in the congregation who didn't know me and would have no idea that I was joking. It's great working on the music with "Staniel" again. (Think lion's den...)

Sunday after the early service John and I will be driving to Lake Isabella until the night of the 29th, when we'll return to Newbury Park so we can be ready to greet the kids and grandkids as they start to arrive the next day. These two weeks between the welcome service and the kids' arrival have been the limbo caused by our not wanting to drive back and forth from Colorado twice in a month—not at the price of gas these days. We'll have absolutely no internet at the lake, and I'm not sure there's even a hot spot, but we'll look. It would be nice to put something other than a quick update soon.

Climbing the Walls in Dubrovnik, Croatia

Benjamin probably said it best. "We would never have chosen Dubrovnik, Croatia, except that it was on the ship's tour schedule. Missing it would have been a real loss." Or something like that. I took far more photos there than anywhere else. It was astoundingly beautiful, and the clouds that day were phenomenal. If I had painted them in, I would be getting complaints that they were too beautiful to be real. My slide show is longer than usual, but I cut it down twice already, and I'm not going to slice away any more photos.

John and I kept smiling at each other that day. It was hotter than it had been, but there was a bit of a breeze to keep us comfortable. I was enjoying the beauty of the day, the orange roofs and small alleys we could see as we looked down from the walls that surround the town. Of course, we had to climb long flights of stairs up to the walls first, but once up there, we had long stretches that were fairly straight. We looked down on yards with hanging laundry, flowers, churches, musicians, and (of course) lots of tourists.

We passed canon and craftsmen, including a man in costume making coins the old fashioned way: with a huge hammer from blanks in a very old machine that contained the reverse artwork that would be pounded into the blank with two or three strikes of the mallet. John collects that type of coin, as well as the souvenir pennies from various interesting spots we (or the kids) visit, so we had him make one for us.

This is one spot that I didn't buy a single post card. If you take a look at the photo above, I think you can get a pretty clear idea why I didn't. With digital cameras, it's easy to see what you're getting. I knew I had post cards in my camera already if I needed them. All I needed to do was print them out. Another thing I appreciated about Croatia was their music. It's another good reason for having a long slide show. I got to use two songs.

Again, the statuary and buildings were beautiful and attention to detail is amazing. It was obvious that "We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto," as the saying goes. History, once again, was all around us. This is another one of those spots that we were getting to taste, when a full meal would have gone down really easily—maybe a week of full meals...

As we left Croatia to tender back to the ship, I realized that we would be leaving the cruise the next day, back in Venice. Our vacation, and the time with Ben and Ruth, Ashley and Kate was coming to an end. But what a way to finish it!

An Evening at Mykonos, Greece

The same day we left Santorini, we enjoyed short naps, had a light meal, and then caught the tender boats about 5:30 p.m. to Mykonos. We were still in Greece for this one more stop. It was delightful.

Still very light out, we were able to get some great photos of the ship in the harbor, the city as we approached, and the people wandering the small tourist shops along the waterfront. Then we disembarked and joined the throng. It was the slowest paced spot along our itinerary, and had a sweetness to it as night fell.

Most of the time we stuck together, walking and exploring, going into small churches and shops, chatting and just enjoying the evening together. As evening fell, however, we eventually split up. John and I wandered into a music store, finding some Greek music (you've been listening to it if you've been watching the slide shows) and a few presents for Ruth and the grandkids. I spent some time saying "thou shalt not covet" over lyres and lutes and Greek instruments I'd never seen before. It was a great stop.

We returned to the harbor and took the tender back to the ship just as full dark was falling. I loved the windmills along the shore, and the way the cruise ships looked resting out at sea. Still, I was aware that we had the next day at sea, then one stop at Dubrovnik, Croatia, followed by our return to Venice the following day. Our cruise was winding down. Reliving it by putting together the slide shows and blogs has been pure pleasure. Thanks for sharing these memories with me. Here is our Mykonos, as we saw it on May 5, 2010.

Santorini, Greece Was Unforgetable

If you have ever been to Santorini, Greece, you'll never see a photograph of the place without immediately knowing where it was taken. The place is just that striking. From a distance, I was amazed to see snow-capped mountains in the distance. As the ship pulled into the harbor, I realized that the snow on the mountains was, in actuality, white-washed buildings—not snow at all.

We arrived at the gathering station on board the ship early to take the tender boat ashore. Ben, Ruth and the girls, John and I all boarded the small boat and then a bus to travel along winding roads up to Oia Village.

We wandered and had a great time until it was time to get back on the bus and go to Thera or Fira, depending on who is spelling it, Greek or America, and had another fine time there, seeing so many beautiful sites I was instantly in love with Greece. I'm really happy with this slide show. I hope you don't think it's too long. (And I love the music!) The funny little man you'll see with John in one of the photos wanted me to take his photo with the "big man" and then, after I took the picture, he wanted me to give him money. I pretended not to understand him.

I think Benjamin and Ruth and I were passing the cameras back and forth quite a bit that day, taking photos of each other so that we'd all have pictures of each other on all the cameras with the beautiful scenery. The one above is one of my favorites, since it commemorates Kate learning to scream. She never did it for long, and seemed really proud of herself, even though it never got her anything. Still, I guess she was expressing herself. Ruth never screamed back, either. Neither did Ben, come to think of it. Grandma and Grandpa tried to hide their grins. I hope we succeeded. We really didn't want to encourage her, but it sure was funny.

I've never seen anything like Santorini. I didn't even think to wonder, while we were there, if they have earthquakes there or not. I found out that in 1956 they had a major earthquake along with a volcanic eruption (great combination) that caused such devastation that many of the villages on Santorini Island were deserted. Now, thanks to the tourism and wine industries, the island is once again prosperous.

I was so amazed at the beauty of this place, and how it all managed to cling to the cliffs like this. We stopped for photos so many times that I got a lot of rest stops, which made it a fairly easy day for me. At least that's how I remember it now. Still, by the end of the day, there was no way I was walking down all the steps like Ruth and Ben did. We stood in line and waited for the cable car. Now, that was a trip...

...but we made it safely. The people in the car with us really laughed when the car swayed wildly at first when we got in, and I made the sign of the cross in reaction, though. Couldn't hurt.