I marveled how my aunt got away with it. She was a perfect stranger to that family, but she took over not being able to resist calming a squalling, hollering, inconsolable baby. My worst fears of the parents protesting, charges of kidnapping, you name it, never happened. I don’t think I could have been or could ever be that bold. Could you?

Papa has done well keeping their secret under wraps. He does like to talk and share good news about the family.

You have probably guessed our secret. We are going to be grandparents again! Now we’ll have one for each. One beautiful boy from Daughter #1 and now a beautiful…of course, s/he will be beautiful…from Daughter #2 and SIL.

There’s a quote that hangs in our kitchen from way back when geese were popular…remember the 90′s? The girls and I saw it at a craft fair and we thought we would get it for Papa for being such a good sport, always outnumbered.

The big question. Will Papa be outnumbered again?

Then came grandson, and it was three for three.

Then came SIL and Zena girl, the black lab, which made it four for four.

So as the clock marches on and we await news of a boy or a girl, we’re only guessing and feeling very blessed to be more.

Choosing over frocks, I cross-stitched these blocks.

So among friends and family, after a homemade dinner of steak and lobster to celebrate, I brought out a gift to help in the wait.

A friend once told me, every baby should have something with the love of homemade.

Andy Rooney said "Elephants and grandchildren never forget."

The front pond 2-11-12, rickignites.tumblr.com

“He just woke up and he seems to be coming to…out of his sleep, a real short nap for him. You know it’s a real fine line between cryin’ and laughin’…he wants to laugh but ’cause he’s so groggy from nap time he falls into crying …let me keep talking …trust me on this…I’ll get him to laughing.”

And so she continued to tell us a story. “Years ago, Jimmy Lee called that he and his buddies…from Rice no less…”

Her voice rose upon declaring “Rice” as in Rice University, in absolute disbelief of what she was about to tell.

She adjusted her rimless glasses as she continued “and he had just passed the bar for law…anyways they were stuck in the sand. Richard had to go out in the middle of the night and rescue them.”

Richard added, “Did you tell them what they were doing out there in the middle of the night?”

“No, I thought I’d let you tell them that part. Anyways, Richard went to rescue them, and I had to get my babies up and put them on two pallets on the floor to make the beds for Jimmy Lee and his friends, from Rice.”

Richard explained, “I pulled their car out of the sand. Turns out they had gone into town to shoot out lights.”

“And he just passed the bar and those buddies of his from Rice,” she declared in astonishment.

“It was the stupidest thing…I was waked in the night, haven’t seen them since that night, and he expected me to go rescue him…I did though.”

“Just like my dad Itus would have…my dad may not have liked you but he always lent a hand…I will say this tho’, if my dad didn’t like you he would soon let you know but he wouldn’t deny helpin’ you,” she said.

“Anyways, I offered them breakfast the next morning and they refused, saying they didn’t want breakfast. I told them if I had gone through the trouble of making beds for them and fixin’ breakfast they were going to eat with us. Then, they sat their butts in the chairs and ate pancakes, eggs and sausage and drank coffee. Then, I asked Jimmy Lee if he had talked with his wife. He said no. I told him to go to the phone right now and tell her where he was, who he was with and what he had done. He did it, with Richard and me in the kitchen and his buddies at the table…he stood right there on the phone telling her. We haven’t seen or heard from him since then. I do know that years later he was dis-barred.”

“And divorced…yeah, I should have taken them to the sheriff and turned them in,” Richard added disgusted.

We laughed so hard tears rolled out of our eyes and down our cheeks. “Imagine, him from Rice and all.” The baby laughed too, happy to sit on his granny’s lap and watching us after a good nap.

For my beautiful mother an hour away who has always been stunning in red…red roses.

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For my sister on the East coast with the reddish brown hair…peach colored roses.

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For CA daughter from TX with the blond, blond hair…yellow roses from TX.

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For Dallas daughter…still a bride…white roses.

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Every day is Valentines Day when we look at this picture of Papa who makes everything fun…with grandson!

***

And you never know when a day can come in the form of a virtual hug or virtual nod in our blogging community. bridgesburning, Munchow and the Island Traveler have nominated me since the New Year for The Genuine Blogger Award, the Liebster, The Hug Award and the Versatile Blogger Award. Oh my! I am honored. I assured them I would reciprocate by Valentine’s.

I thank Chris because she posts so frequently. She is so dedicated. I believe she was a member of the Post a Day last year. I enjoy reading her musings and know she used to live closer to me at a point in her life. An explanation of the Liebster and the Genuine Blogger Award can be found here.

I thank the Island Traveler because although he is younger than I am, he reminds me of my dad (wink) at age 40. I love reading about his journey here in the states at his age. I remember going back to visit Mexico for Christmas and my dad’s 40th birthday over New Years. I remember how excited he was to return for a visit. Just recently, we learned IT will be going home to the Philippines for a visit. I can imagine his excitement and I can relate. A virtual hug back and I wish him a wonderful journey. An explanation of this award and the rules that go with it can be found here.

I thank munchow as he is mainly a photographer. How patient he is with my smart phone photographs that yes,…I am guilty…make their way into my posts. I thank him for understanding the message in my posts. The rules to the Versatile Blogger award can be found here.

I am required to list other blogs that I believe are wonderful, that deserve these awards and also to share some items about myself, that you don’t already know. I encourage you to visit these sites. You will be enriched for visiting. So…first the blogs, listed in no certain order, and of course, there are many more that I love, but I know some of them have been nominated recently, and I wish I could list more. I believe the following blogs encompass the ideals of these awards. I know some of you have already received one, and I ask you to accept one that isn’t duplicated. And if you don’t partake in awards, I do understand, I really do.

Dianna at These Days of Mine has such a special touch in staying grounded, creating community, focusing on the beauty around us, and acknowledging those who came before us. Her photographs are beautiful, Natural, whimsical, spontaneous, curious and playful. She has nominated me several times for these fun awards that come our way. And, I take a special pleasure in being able to give her an award that doesn’t originate from her.

Kathy at pocketperspectives, thank you for your window transparencies. You know how they warm me.

Linda at The Task at Hand. To read Linda’s posts is to know what a disciplined and dedicated writer she is. She follows the cardinal rule of writing, “Write what you know about.” She is the genuine article. I am honored by her replies to my comments and that she comes to visit this site. If blogging is recognized as a genre of literature, she certainly contributes to this genre for her craftsmanship and knowledge of literature, the arts and history.

Rosie at dearrosie fascinates me with her travel experiences and ability to relate with all kinds of acquaintances through her job at a museum. How often I shake my head in agreement as she shares with us her observations or I learn something new from her. Museums are among my favorite places to be and visit and I love being a virtual fly on the wall seeing what she observes.

Amy at souldipper shares her own authentic, life truths and I am honored she visits and comments. When Amy visits I feel our world becomes more familiar as she shares what she knows to be true, genuine and authentic. As she put it so aptly in a former post “My Roots Are Showing”, she knows herself well.

Carla at randombraincells.wordpress.com/ hails from Alabama. She is a very talented writer and keeps perspective by making everything she writes real and finding the humor in it. It’s always a delight to exchange a comment with her.

I am going to forego writing 7 things about myself because as I wrote this, I think you can find seven things you may not have already known about me as I give Valentines to my family and awards to my blogging friends.

The Guggenheim, the Musem of Modern Art, NYC via wiki commons

I wasn’t even aware what was awaiting me. Before I saw it, I knew of the painting but I didn’t know it was here. I walked into a room and to the left of me, I had to turn to view it. It was a painting made familiar from art books I had leaved through and textbooks I had studied, but here it was so large and so immense, it took my breath away. Not only did this “find” catch me unaware, I was struck by the enormity of it with its measurements of over 10 feet high by over twenty feet long. Of course, only the MOMA at the Guggenheim could have housed such a piece, Guernica by Picasso.

Surprisingly the room was rather empty. I sat on the bench placed there for spectators to view it and study it. I read it from left to right physically moving my head to take it all in. The grieving mother holding her child, the bull symbolizing Spain’s strength. The light bulb suspended in the center like an eye viewing the horror yet illuminating Franco’s atrocity for the world to see. The ghost like spirit reminiscent of a member of a tragic Greek chorus and to the right another figure repeating the form of the grieving mother on the left, however this form was caught in the flames of a burning building.

Every time I view this painting, I see something else in the white, grays, charcoal shades and black shades on the canvass. Great literature is to be reread. Great paintings are to be viewed over and over again. Click again and “read” this astonishing work.

Today this masterpiece of the Cubist movement is in el Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía, Madrid. It was not in Spain for many years because Picasso would not allow his work to hang in a gallery under Franco’s rule, not to mention Franco would not have tolerated a blatant protest of his dictatorship and the atrocity for which he was responsible, the bombing of the small town of Guernica. Finally, the painting went home to Spain in 1981, six years after Franco’s death, during a time that promised and still promises the restoration of democratic rule.

I was in NYC. For whatever reason I ventured out to the Guggenheim. Little did I know…

Have you ever seen something great that caught you by surprise?

My last post was about a case of mistaken identity. Imagine my surprise at the following case of un-mistaken identity.

My mother found a doll in a trunk owned by her mother. She knew my mother-in-law and her sisters had a great interest in dolls that she had passed on to me and her granddaughters. She asked me to look at the doll and asked me what I thought. I’m not an expert, but I knew she was very special. Her limbs were loosely fixed to her body, but her face, torso, arms, legs and delicate fingers were intact. She was clean and her bisque face had no marks.

“Let me take you and her to the Doll Hospital,” I suggested. “I know just the place to take her near the house.”

Both of us went together. The owner of our doll hospital has been in business for decades. If anyone could tell us about mom’s doll, I knew it would be her. The owner greeted us with her “doctor’s coat”, very carefully took the doll from my mother, placed her on a “hospital bed” and quietly but confidently stated, “This is a Picasso in the attic.”

“What do you mean?”, we inquired.

“Yes, she’s a J.D. Kestner…made around 1910 in Germany.”

We left the “baby” with the doll house doctor who restrung her limbs and laundered her original dress, diaper and stockings. She gave her new shoes as Mom’s had lost hers long ago.

And so we left knowing the identity of Mom’s doll. How satisfying to have unraveled this mystery and to have had this treasure restored.

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"new shoes" georgettesullins.wordpress.com

Life comes at us so fast, we put things away in the attic or trunk or on the back burner until there’s time to search for answers. Thankfully we found out what my mother’s mother must have known but we had to seek out.
What precious mysteries do you wonder about?

Our family took a trip to Corpus Christi for the weekend and we stayed at the Embassy Suites where my husband had accumulated points. It accommodates a family nicely with a living room with hide-a-bed, perfect for two young girls and a master suite. There’s also a kitchenette to keep snacks and beverages. I also, liked that they provided happy hour drinks around 5:00 and a breakfast buffet.

We got up Sunday morning for the breakfast buffet. Each of us went to the buffet table beckoning us with pastries, juices, cereal, waffles, eggs, bacon, hash browns…you name it, our personal favorites. All we had to do was decide and serve ourselves. I went through the line and found a seat in the dining area…oblivious…another fault I have…sat down and reached for my husband’s spoon as I had forgotten the silverware part and I could see he was about to dig into eggs and bacon, things requiring a fork. I knew he didn’t need the spoon for the oatmeal I love to eat at breakfast.

“Honey, may I take your spoon?” I asked him.

“Well, of course, if you really need it,” came the response.

Then my hand flew to my mouth. I was flustered, red-faced and apologetic.
“er…I’m sorry…I thought…”

My husband and daughters sat laughing at “their” table delighting in my goof. The bald-headed, large gentleman with mustache, beard and glasses whose spoon I had helped myself to was not my bald-headed, large gentleman with mustache, beard and bespectacled Rick!

Oooops! OMG!

Have you ever laughed at yourself and just shaken your head?

It’s one I picked up in Mexico.

I enjoy sharing it.

Many have held it,

gently squeezed its fragile sticks

and delighted

in its somersaults

and gyrations.

Remember Peter, Paul and Mary’s “The Marvelous Toy”?

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One day before the holidays I had them. I had to have them to get into the house. They couldn’t have just walked away because I drove myself home and had to use a key to get into the house. Then one Saturday before the holidays, they were gone.

I looked here. “Things surface,” I told myself.

No, they weren't under the hat.

I looked in every one of these purses numerous times. “Things surface,” I told myself again.

No, they weren't in any one of these.

I looked in all the usual places. The kitchen table, my desk, the floor of the car, under the seats and between the seats. I turned pockets of jackets, jeans and slacks inside out. No keys.

No worries. It was the holidays. Classes were over and I had an extra for the house and car.

Family came in for the holidays. I mobilized them. “Keep your eyes open for my keys.”
“Mom, remember what you always say? Things surface.”

Holidays were over. The beginning of a new semester was approaching. “Where are those keys?” I kind of went into a free fall. They had not surfaced like they were supposed to.

Then, we went to the farm. “Here, put this in the glove compartment,” my husband requested. I opened up the glove compartment to his truck to put “this” whatever it was in the glove compartment for him.

And there they were! Just in time for classes. Three weeks later. I had never been without them for so long…three weeks. Life went on. Things got done. And once again, my little mantra served us. “Don’t worry. Things surface sooner or later.”

“Whew!”