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I know you’ve all been wondering about the mystery certificate that Holly and Jesse gave me for my birthday…so here’s how the day went down.
At 10:30 a.m. on Saturday, April 28th, Holly picked me up. She emailed me the night before with this message:
Dearest Darling Pants,
Here are the instructions for your surprise tomorrow. Please follow them exactly and do not ask questions. If you find that there are things missing from your house when you get home… Don’t worry about it  Oh, and don’t ask questions! 1. Be ready to be picked up promptly at 10:30 am
2. Have a clean face, and clean, dry hair
3. Please bring the following:
- A few of your favorite pieces of jewelry
- Your favorite book of all time
- A favorite pair of shoes
- Your favorite pair of jeans
- The most sentimental item you own
- A pair of tennis shoes
- A rain coat
- A piece of fruit
- Yoga pants
- A flash light
4. Please wear a shirt that buttons or zips up
5. Please wear a nude or white bra… preferably nude… Don’t ask!!
That is all.
- Holly.
I spent the entire morning trying to put together the perfect list. Captain Random had to find a flash light. He had to go to the store and buy a piece of fruit. I couldn’t find a button-down shirt…looked for an hour, almost becoming frantic that I would not pass the mystery list test. More about that later. I put in my yoga pants, but didn’t know what to do about a top…picked all kinds of exercise bras and tops. Because she asked for favorite pieces of jewelry…and my favorite jewelry is green, I had to put in a top that was green…and a different top for each color of jewelry. Favorite shoes? My parents owned a shoe store…really? Do you know what kind of a quandry this puts me in? I chose a pair of boots, a pair of tennis shoes, two pairs of sandels…which brought me to more clothes to go with the shoes. A raincoat? Long or short? I took two. Favorite book? No brainer: Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird. Most sentimental item I own? You can’t imagine how long this took me. I settled for the family Bible passed down since the 1800s with the family trees from the last 200 years inside. And the button-down top…not to be found anywhere…even after Tom and I both tore the entire house apart…dirty laundry, clean laundry, his closet, my closet…you get the idea.
When Holly saw my bags, she smiled…she wanted to laugh hysterically, but she didn’t want to give anything away. Seems none of the items were really necessary. She just wanted to make sure I had no idea what was going on…did I mention she is an evil, evil daughter-in-law?
Next stop, Holly and Jesse’s house where soothing music was playing and an entire make-up/hair station was set up in the dining room. The painting of my face began…this took some serious work. By the time she got done with the make-up layers and my hair, she and Jesse were signaling each other some very secret message.
They started loading up the car…Holly opened her closet and took out all the clothes she had stolen from my closet…including three button-down tops…evil, evil daughter-in-law.
Thirty minutes later in Sorrento Valley, we pulled up outside an industrial building where a photo studio was hidden. There were munchies, a glass of wine, a dressing room, mirrors all around…lights, cameras, action.
I’m not going to give away my daughter-in-law’s secrets, but let me just tell you that she had a model that does not like make-up, hair, mirrors, cameras…and has no talent whatsoever at being the focal point of any camera. I will not tell you how she got me to create all these different looks…I think it’s a mysterious trade secret. I will say that my daughter-in-law is an amazing, talented, super fun photographer. Consider her for your very own photo shoot…really ( www.hgphotostudio.com).
You want me to what? Sit here and smile? And do what? Just keep smiling?
Okay…I feel really dumb…how about if I put one hand up?
And then she started asking me questions…okay this I know about…can I just say teacher mode…story teller? Then she couldn’t get me to shut up.
The next question made me absolutely hysterical. Yes I remember…but I’ll never tell.
She stole this rooster out of my house…he and I had a bonding moment.
And then secret number…ummm…three? Captain Random walked through the door. This is an, “oh you sneaky little folks” smile.
He had flowers…and I was very happy to see him cuz now I wasn’t alone in front of the camera anymore.
Holly just let us be our happy little selves and she kept clicking away.
We aren’t always happy…but we were today…she even made us lay down on the floor…is this what models do?
Surprise number four…the grandchildren arrived.
Surprise number five…the parents and uncle and aunt came in all purty and dressed up, too. Holly took fam shots by setting the camera on automatic and joined in the fun.
What an amazing mystery birthday gift! I was exhausted, having never been a celebrity before. All the lights, all the excitement, all the cameras. We decided to go to Buca di Beppo right down the street for a little nourishment after the big shoot (www.bucadibeppo.com).
I guess the pope even heard we were coming and was ready for us.
Eli enjoyed some guy talk with his uncle and papa.
Nora had a fancy glass of lemonade.
 Eli went right for the calories to rejuvenate after the exhausting photo shoot. Grandma did the same.
Luckily, the paparazzi were distracted. We slipped out happy and full in more than one way. Thanks, Holly and Jesse for the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I could get used to this…
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Our middle son…let’s call him Skywalker… entered this world on May 5, 1980. He has never liked attention, and as soon as he was old enough, he would figure out a way to share every celebration that might be focused on him alone. He somehow found friends who had birthdays near the same as his so they could have the party together, and shared his high school graduation cake with four other graduates…making sure all of their names were written on the cake. His most recent 32nd Cinco de Mayo was shared with hundreds of triathlon-ers and of course, his children.
Maybe it was this desire to be incognito that kept him in the womb so long…
He was two weeks late…I was as big as a house. Captain Random was a carpenter apprentice at the time and it was his evening to attend class in El Cajon. He wasn’t going to go, but after dinner and a few tears, I said, “Oh, just go…this baby is never going to come anyway.”
An hour later my water broke and I was on the phone to the school to ask them to pull Tom out of class. Grandma and Grandpa came over to get older brother and waited with me for Tom. Grandpa just wanted to take me since it appeared this baby boy was quite anxious to get the whole thing over with quickly…now that he had decided to come. But we waited for daddy.
Captain Random raced home, put us in the car, and headed to the hospital at safety warp speed. Mercy Hospital was 20 minutes away and I was in transition by the time we arrived. From car to wheelchair to elevator, with the nurse watching my breathing. He said, “Is this your first?” I shook my head, “No.” He said, “Are you in transition?” I nodded my head, “Yes.”
The doctor was called…who thankfully lived almost across the street. Another nurse was going to prep me…as they did in those days, but took one little peek-a-boo under my enormous mountain of a baby tummy and said, “Oops…no time…here we go.” She called for a back-up doctor and I said, “No, I want to wait for my doctor.” She smiled that nurse smile in response to women in transition, “Afraid you have no choice here, sweetheart.”
The doctor that was not mine made me put my feet in the stirrups…which the doctor that was mine was not going to require. I was trying to explain that I didn’t want stirrups (no one was listening) when Lord have mercy, my doctor arrived. Calmly and quietly he turned down the lights, took my legs out of the stirrups, asked for some soft music, turned me on my side, and got himself into position. While the music was not Cinco de Mayo music, Skywalker was inspired anyway, and after just a couple of pushes entered the world at 10 pounds, seven ounces.
From that moment forward, Skywalker has done things in his own way, in his own time. Once he starts a new venture, though, there is no stopping him. From his schooling to his marriage to his career goals to the birth of his children to his marathon and triathalon goals, he makes a decision and then shoots out into the world.
The incognito part transferred onto the occupation he ultimately picked, and as a result I seem to have an entire collection of the back of his head.
He loves his children…
He loves his exercise…
He loves his wife…
 He loves his dad…
 He loves his mom…
He secretly thinks his parents are strange.
The medals for his marathons, relays, and triathlon competitions go to Rapunzel…he really has no interest…except to gather up the next goal and go for it.
In some ways this was a backwards trip, since Skywalker was always passing us by and pushing to finish the next leg of the half-triathlon. You’ll have to trust that I have some forward-looking pictures. And Skywalker, this was a five-day trip, so you’re going to have to expect more to this story…ready or not. Happy Birth Day. We celebrate you…just you…like it or not.
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Writer’s group joined together at Il Postino in North Park (www.ilpostino-sandiego.com), coincidentally during the birthday weeks of both Cristina and I. It’s always a celebration with the girls, although we were missing Parminder, the fifth element of our group. Ellen has named us each an element: Ellen is Earth, Elizabeth is wind, I am water, Cristina is fire, and Parminder is sky or spirit. We’ll have Ellen share with us another time how she matched up elements with writers…but I will tell you that we all immediately agreed that Ellen had picked the right element for the right person.
In honor of Cristina’s birthday, Ellen captured her fire on paper:
saguaro and lotus (or my fire friend)
book in hand
pages frayed and inked
energy eager to satisfy
an intellect that can’t stop questioning
a heart that can’t stop yearning
and a soul that can’t stop seeking
answers, a path, meaning,
passion that comes easily, but not lightly
smolders then flares up hot
flinging fire raindrops
dignity, equity, justice,
child warrior to child champion
blast furnace forged
then hush, remembering love
soft, remembering kindness
breath, remembering goodness
morning breaks a new time,
a woman’s time,
a woman with roots
and memories indigenous,
a woman with arms cast wide
to gather a rainbow and wrap it round
the dreams of tomorrow,
a woman with eyes and heart
waiting the smallest flower,
knowing that in the shadow of the rock
a quiet, a strength,
of petal pushing aside granite
and forever blooming spring
By Ellen Hohenstein
Ellen’s element is always captured in the words she uses to describe the experiences and encounters of her life. Look at how many times Mother Earth is used to represent Cristina: fire raindrops, breaking morning, roots, indigenous, rainbow, flower, rock, petal, granite, blooming, spring. Ellen understands who she is and who her friend is, and can craft the exact words to represent their relationship.
Cristina sparked conversation when she read from For Colored Girls, Elizabeth circulated and aerified her profound thoughts, and I mostly listened. Water gets to do that…usually because she is crying about the profound words and can’t talk.
Tell me these looks aren’t profound…that’s wind and fire if I ever saw it. I’m water, so I drank lovely wine that Ellen chose ‘cuz she’s Earth and she knows about grapes and things. S’pose you want to see the food…close up and in color?
 Fettuccine al Pesto Genovese
Fettuccine pasta with fresh string beans in pesto sauce
 Capellini alla Checca
Angel hair pasta with fresh diced tomato and basil
Our waiter apparently heard many of our conversations, including the birthday accolades and poems, and was kind enough to bring this savory dessert for us to share. We were planning to go from dinner to Queen Bee for poetry reading (www.queenbeessd.com), but we had such a poetic evening of our own that we didn’t quite make it there. Gotta love these girls.
Thanks, Ellen and Cristina, for sharing Cristina’s birthday gift with Slightly Squinting!
(For recipes of similar Italian food dishes, check out the blog Italicious.)
Subscribe to Slightly Squinting by clicking the “subscribe” button at the top left corner of this page. Go ahead. You’ll be supporting local bloggers and businesses, giving yourself something to read while you eat breakfast in the morning, and joining the Slightly Squinting family. Who can’t use more love and support? When you get the email notification, just click where it tells you to, and you’ll be confirmed. Thanks…I look forward to squinting with you!
My Auntie Shirley is my father’s baby sister. Family members have always said that I am really the daughter of my Auntie Shirley on my father’s side and my Aunt Annie on my mother’s side. Well, they’re definitely the craziest, most outspoken, loudest laughers, most deeply concerned about family relations, and know how to cry the happy, angry, sad tears. My sister, Peggy arranged a fun weekend, beginning at Torrey Pines, including a sleepover with the girls, lots of giggling and good food, and ending with a visit to my mama, Auntie Shirley’s sister-in-law, Mary Lou.
It was a bit chilly and overcast at Torrey Pines, but as always in San Diego it doesn’t stop us from enjoying a little nature (www.torreypine.org).
This is my sassy Auntie Shirley with her daughter, Kathy, who is also her mama’s daughter (in all ways that are good). Auntie’s children are Kevin, Kathy, Kerry, and Kris…which really just proves her sassiness…that along with the sassy flower on her sassy hat…
Peggy made us this wonderful, healthy shrimp salad with homemade wheat bread…ummmmm.
When we were done eating, we got our very own private tour from my sister, the Torrey Pines docent.
There were spring-time blossoms everywhere…
An artist was painting the famous Torrey Pine trees.
Who doesn’t love a look-out spot?
The benches below are the same ones we sat on for lunch just a short while earlier.
Usually on a torrey pine tree, the female pine cones are at the top of the tree and the male seed spores are at the bottom, but in this unusual picture, the males are hanging out with the females…at our house we call that a Captain Random piece of information.
Peggy had told us a bit earlier that the squirrels bend over the flowers and chomp the blossoms off one at a time until a whole plant of flowers is suddenly bloomless. This little squirrel proved her story true as he devoured this bush of yellow flowers while we stood watching…we didn’t cramp his style at all.
It’s always amazing to me that such beautiful blossoms come out of such prickly plants.
When we got home and were ready for a little snack, Auntie Shirley mixed together feta cheese with sun-dried tomatoes and pesto.
 We ate it on crackers…absolutely yummy!
Later to keep with the natural theme of the day, Peggy barbecued bell peppers, asparagus, corn on the cob, and chicken breasts.
We ate the artistic combo on the dishes passed down to Peggy by our Aunt Martha and our mother.
Happy, happy day. The faces around the table change over the years. We think they never will, but they do. It’s hard to accept changes, especially when they are about the family we serve around the table. But this I know…these are the faces who wanted to be around this table on this day. It was a good day. I’m grateful.
We slumbered together and woke up to waffles and fruit, and brewing coffee the next morning. We all came down in our p.j.s, as you do at slumber parties, and lollygagged around, chatting, and eating and drinking tea and coffee until…well, until we felt like getting dressed and heading down the highway to see mama Mary Lou.
Mama was napping when we arrived, and it took her just a bit to realize she was surrounded by loving family. When she did, we got a few smiles, instigated by the crazy stories and giggles previously mentioned.
Once the hand-holding began, the familiarity of the women who love her took over, and she joined in the giggles.
Kathy and Mary Lou bonded once again, and Peggy looked on letting them enjoy the moment.
So many of you slightly squinting readers have told me stories about your own mothers and grandmothers and the experiences you had with them once their lives began to change because of illness or dementia or many other conditions and circumstances. I know you recognize how important the hugs and hand holding and the recognition of laughter and nostalgic stories mean to them.
When they can experience nothing else, they experience the warmth of hugs. They hear the voices and they know the voices are familiar even if they cannot say the names that go with them.
When they can no longer join in conversation, they can still reach for a hand and like a small infant, they wrap their fingers even more tightly than they ever did when they were fully aware. I like to think it’s instinctual.
In the fall and winter of our lives, there are still the spring-time moments of nature and her blossoms, outstretched hands, laughter, loving hugs, and absolute adoration for those who have taught us life-lessons and those who have never stopped loving us, no matter what.
Subscribe to Slightly Squinting by clicking the “subscribe” button at the top left corner of this page. Go ahead. You’ll be supporting local bloggers and businesses, giving yourself something to read while you eat breakfast in the morning, and joining the Slightly Squinting family. Who can’t use more love and support? When you get the email notification, just click where it tells you to, and you’ll be confirmed. Thanks…I look forward to squinting with you!
Even though it didn’t take a lot of vocalization, projection, and dramatization to get through the day, there was something a bit emotionally exhausting about participating in a silent protest of such importance. The students’ writing, their honesty, and their unflappable willingness to stand up for causes in powerful and nonviolent ways can be enervating and, at the same time, leave one plain tuckered out. I went home and took a two-hour nap. Yes, I did. In silence. It was lovely. (www.dayofsilence.com)
I find I have to nap before I start my night life…still can’t figure out how these youngin’s start their evening at 9 p.m. But after all, it was my birthday week.
Even Gordon Biersch’s beer vats felt sort of otherworldly Friday night…like they, too, had a silent, reflective message from the universe…yeah, I was still in a bit of a dream state from my nap. ( www.gordonbiersch.com)
See the ethereal light on everything? What? I didn’t do anything. Well, I did have a glass of wine, but I don’t think that affected anything…and I tried Gordon’s new sweet potato fries toasted in brown sugar. It was a supernal, brown sugar kind of night.
It just seemed the kind of night to celebrate every musician and actor and artist who is creative and inspired and LGBT, offering joy and respite and diversion to pensive listeners.
Out on the heated patio, the backdrop is windows looking out on the city lights, reflecting Joni’s own philosophical thoughts. He was obviously feeling just like me.
 Elias caught the mood too, and sent his discerning vibes out into the burnt ochre universe.
I am blessed to be surrounded by talented, earth-changing students, family, and friends in my life. In this world of social media, I can watch more of your lives than I have ever been able to watch before. You have full lives and deep thoughts. You are socially aware and actively conscious of what is going on around you. Keep thinking chocolate-colored thoughts. Indulge in dreamy, moonstruck notions of possibility. Fancy what it would be like for everyone to be treated with sublime equality and humanity. Let’s dream it into reality.
(To read more about my experience with Day of Silence, go to Day of Silence 2012.)
Subscribe to Slightly Squinting by clicking the “subscribe” button at the top left corner of this page. Go ahead. You’ll be supporting local bloggers and businesses, giving yourself something to read while you eat breakfast in the morning, and joining the Slightly Squinting family. Who can’t use more love and support? When you get the email notification, just click where it tells you to, and you’ll be confirmed. Thanks…I look forward to squinting with you!
Well, Slightly Squinting folks, I’ve missed you. Last week was a busy week of CST Testing and end-of-term grading. There’s a lot to tell.
Friday of my birthday week, another of my favorite events, Day of Silence for Lesbians, Gays, Bisexuals and Transgenders took place. I’m always awed by the number of students who participate and by the utmost respect given to the topic of bullying and harassment around LGBT issues (www.dayofsilence.com).
At 7:15 a.m., we began to gather in the quad to have our faces painted and/or our mouths taped…oh, does Captain Random wish he could use that tactic with me occasionally…no specifics here.
No H8 (that’s LGBT for hate) was surgically tattoo’d on our faces…guess that’s why Taylor is donning the mask. (www.noh8campaign.com)
Ms. Butler, one of the LGBT club leaders, is getting inked…
Both club leaders, Ms. Hohenstein and Ms. Butler stood in solidarity…standing by to tape students’ mouths shut…it’s something teachers dream of.
Mr. Heu wore his purple for the big day…
…and I did the same…they asked if they could tape my mouth shut, but I said absolutely not.
When the bell rang, it was time to batten down the lips and head off for class.
Many students were silent. We used small white boards and the big Promethean board to communicate. What a day for Dr. P to come and observe me, as I taught my students in silence. Well, we did play CST prep jeopardy later. Dr. P was very gracious and appreciative of the cause.
I embedded one of the videos for you to view here:
Some of my more creative students were inspired to draw while they were listening to the videos…
After the videos, students reflected on the messages they had received about equality and fairness and loving one another.
They had a lot to say…
I wish I could publish all of their words. I think we would be amazed at how profound they were and are. Once again, not one student out of my 160 students, said anything in support of those who judge LGBTs. Whatever their religious views, their philosophical views, or any other category of views…not one student thought it was okay to harass or bully someone because of their gender or sexual preference.
You know I’ve got to share a few…
“I’m thinking, how can people be so mean? I had an uncle who was gay. I never met him but I was told he was an amazing man. Unfortunately, his brothers would joke around with him about being gay. My uncle didn’t think it was a joke at all. On March 28, he decided to kill himself at the age of 23. Nobody in my family is allowed to say “you’re gay,” or “that’s gay” as a joke. I think being LGBT is absolutely fair. No matter what people say, it is.”
“I actually realize now that I’ve made comments that I thought were funny, but they are not funny at all. Maybe one of those comments we say could take someone’s life…I think it’s good that in some places like Spain, Canada, and Norway, homosexual people can get married. There are finally cities, places where people are free…People should start thinking better about what they say. Maybe one bad comment we make is one life we take away.”
“I’m silent for the ones who are being bullied and ending their own lives.”
“My dad hates that I’m gay and calls me a faggot all the time. My grandma doesn’t even know I’m gay because I haven’t told her. I hear the way she talks about gay people and if I tell her, she might hate me too.”
“I have been doing this day of silence since the 8th grade when my best friend committed suicide because not only did the kids at school constantly harass her, but her mother did too. This LGBT silence means the world to me because I miss her. She was an amazing person and she was such a talented artist. Why do kids and even adults ever think it’s okay to degrade someone because they love a different gender? I will do whatever it takes for this hate to stop because it killed my best friend.”
“I will support gay, bi, or lesbians no matter what. We get to choose who we want to get married with, not the state. It’s very unfair that they don’t get to marry the person they love all because the state does not allow it.”
“Honestly, I feel a deep sinking feeling in my gut. What I just saw was heartbreaking and depressing. I’m doing the day of silence for my cousin, but since I saw all these teenagers, these people, my heart sunk…Nobody in the world deserves that kind of pain, that kind of struggle. I don’t even understand why being gay or lesbian is such a big problem. Because they’re different? That doesn’t make sense to me. If they weren’t different, they’d be the same…Nobody in this world is the same.”
“No judgment! We can help them by giving them support and respect, by listening to their stories and being SILENT!”
“No one should ever be made fun of or disliked. It’s not only gay people that get made fun of or harassed; it can be the color of your skin, the way you dress, the way you look, and sometimes the way you talk.”
“I admire the courage of homosexuals who are confident enough to be comfortable in their own skin.”
“I used to be one of those people who are neutral about people who are homosexuals or bisexuals. I used to say, “I don’t care as long as they don’t hit on me,” but now when I look at my own words I realize they’re pretty reckless and ignorant. Those videos changed my perspective on this subject and I respect and support all of those who are fighting for equality.”
When the last bell of the day rang, we gathered in silence…
Ms. H started high-fiving folks…
As the crowd got bigger…
people started grabbing a hand next to them…
…until the hands of the mighty people circled the front quad. In sign language, the count down started: Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four three, two, one, zero…See the guy in the black vest? That’s zero in sign language. Yeah!…cool…supremely groovy. We did it for you, for me, for her, for him, for us. We did it.
…and then there was a lot to say. Stories were shared. The power of a few made a difference. Here’s the proof:
“To be honest, I have never really been concerned with the issue of LGBT. It’s not that I don’t care. It’s just that I’ve never really seen it affect my life. But watching these videos and looking at all those who took their lives due to bullying and harassment was actually very difficult to do. It made me want to cry. Nobody should ever have to feel like they are not going to be missed when they are gone. Nobody should ever have to feel like nobody out there will listen or care about their problems. May of us think we are great listeners and advice givers. We think that by giving advice we are helping. But sometimes we just need to listen to people and not say anything. Sometimes we just need to show our support through silence and understanding.”
There really is no way I could have said it better. Simply an honest statement by someone who never really thought about LGBT issues before…but I suspect will do so in the future. And isn’t that the reason why we join causes in small, silent ways…maybe to affect the thinking of one or two or more individuals who will open their hearts and minds just a little bit more than they did yesterday?
A couple of weeks before my birthday, I had a weird revelation that accidentally popped out of my subconscious. It wasn’t pretty. It had to do with the fact that the stress of taking care of my mother and the fear of what is in store for me in my future had made me open — subconsciously — to be accepting of any illness or accident that might befall me. Better to die earlier fully coherent — minus dementia, hallucinations, and Parkinson’s disease — than to live for years and years with a disease that would add stress to the lives of my children. My therapist was not happy with me. My husband was not happy with me. These things brewing around in our subconscious can evidently become self-fulfilling prophesies.
I had to pinky swear that I would make all the appointments I am so terrible at making…to check that all my body parts and brain parts were healthy and happy. During spring break I saw my dentist, my doctor, my chiropractor, my therapist, my tax accountant (what part of health is that?), upped my zumba classes, and played with my grandchildren. At the dentist I shared about a bit of sensitivity on one tooth (just a bit doc…nothing to worry about) that led to a root canal. The doctor confirmed that I did not have a torn rotator cuff, but that I did need full blood work and procedures with “scopy” on the end. The chiropractor informed me that the only reason my hip and shoulder had so much pain in them was because four years ago when I fractured my ankle, I had contorted my body around crutches for so long that I put everything out of wack. For four years I have been protecting my muscles protecting my limbs and everything is all cattywampus. He asked me if I understood the concept “to take care of oneself.”
I decided one way to take care of myself was to make my birthday last a week…or more. My birthday morning started with the student walk-out in honor of our pink-slipped teachers…which felt like a birthday gift to me. My students sang “Happy Birthday” and made me a giant birthday card out of red construction paper. Later in the day I went home and took a two-hour nap to get ready for my rockin’ and rollin’ birthday party.
This birthday was also my first birthday on Facebook…wow, it’s pretty cool to get all those greetings all in one place.
 When I went over to Holly & Jesse’s house for my b’day dinner with the fam, Rapunzel was VERY excited about the card she had bought for me. She was bouncing up and down, in fact, until I opened it. If it looks like the card is a little blurry, that’s because the adorable woman with the green face — apparently she reminded my granddaughter of me — was dancing in a frenzy to “The Rhythm of the Night”…in a kind of zumba frenzy.
 Rapunzel infused her excitement right into Elizabeth…
 Captain Random was content to watch his family…he was sitting directly across from his granddaughter, which would explain his look of adoration. Sorry, it wasn’t the birthday girl that gave him this look…
 Our hosts served an amazing enchilada casserole and salad…and a wine spritzer with fresh berries in it…yummy!
Nora and I made a wish at the appropriate time…
and blew out the candles…Eli tried to help.
Here are my four birthday cakes: carrot, berry-filled whip cream, lemon, and chocolate mousse.
Rapunzel and Elizabeth played hangman afterwards. Now that Rapunzel has learned her letters and her sounds and is learning to read, she can sound out the words herself…
 Then we opened presents: a travel book on India from Elizabeth….
Zumba clothes from Rapunzel’s family…
 …placed inside a bag made from the same fabric used to make the childhood curtains in Rapunzel’s daddy’s room, a pocket from Nicole’s favorite jeans, and great-great’s lace.
 From Jesse and Holly, a certificate that starts at 10:30 next Saturday. Hmmm…can hardly wait!
Papa J and Eli were exchanging looks of mutual devotion…
Papa J gave me cards and promises of dinner and a movie. But really being surrounded by the looks and actions of love all around me were more than I could have asked for.
More on my birthday week later…LGBT day of silence during the day on Friday, the Jesse Johnson Trio at Gordon Biersch Friday night; zumba Saturday morning, followed by a picnic at Torrey Pines with my sister, aunt, and cousin with a long walk on the Guy Fleming trail, followed by dinner and slumber party at my sister’s house; Sunday morning waffles, good conversation with my fun, crazy, auntie and cousin, and a visit with mama, followed by dinner at Rapunzel’s house and bath time with the grandkids.
It’s not over yet…Captain Random won a thousand dollars in Vegas when he accompanied Skywalker on a 24-hour relay run there (he says I get to spend some of it at my favorite bargain store, Ross, since I’m still celebrating); there’s still that certificate for a mysterious, special day next Saturday; and Eli’s baptism on Sunday. There’s a lot to live for…guess I better take care of myself…and keep my subconscious full of health and happiness.
Please do the same, friends of Slightly Squinting…let’s stay around for a while and celebrate the health we have today.
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This invitation came out on Facebook, Tuesday night, April 17th:
Hoover’s Pinkslip Day of Silence (LEGITIMATE PROTEST)
Hey Hoover Students, Tomorrow there will be a silent protest in honor of the teachers and staff that have been pink-slipped. If you don’t already know, those teachers will be attending their hearings to voice their opinions tomorrow, so now its OUR turn.
Hoover administration has all given us the A OKAY to throw this protest. Mr. Johnes has sent a mass email to all the teachers so that students who will have subs tomorrow will be able to walk out of class without it looking like they’re ditching. So YOU WON’T get in trouble. Security also know this is happening tomorrow as well so no need to worry about trouble.
Of course, you DO NOT have to participate, but it is recommended. BECAUSE it was such a success last year, we are doing this once again to show that these budget cuts are affecting not only teachers and staff, but us students as well.
At 7:40 (15 minutes after 1st period has started), students are to walk out to the front quad SILENTLY. NO TALKING WHATSOEVER TO SHOW RESPECT TO THE TEACHERS AND STAFF THAT HAVE BEEN PINKSLIPPED. IF YOU CAN’T FOLLOW THAT SIMPLE RULE, DO NOT PARTICIPATE. The Protest should last no longer than 20 to 30 minutes but may go over a little bit. Students ARE required to attend 2nd period as well as their other classes throughout the day. YOU ARE REQUIRED TO BE SILENT THROUGHTOUT THE ENTIRE PROTEST. It’s like the Pink-slip day of silence lol.
Hoover High School, it’s our time! Please invite your friends and teachers if you have them on facebook to spread the word. This is taking place TOMORROW!
* If your teacher says you cannot participate, do not walk out of class.
*You can make posters if you like. Please do! but NO PROFANITY OR DEROGATORY TERMS! We need to represent Hoover well.
Please invite your friends and spread the word! This is taking place tomorrow morning!!!
The next morning at 7:40, my first period emptied out right on schedule. I followed them. I’ll be honest. This is the last week before CST testing next week. I thought about it. I also thought about what it will mean for us next year to be 31 teachers short. I thought about when I was in third grade. Mrs. Hanning was my teacher. I don’t remember state testing that year, but to this day, I remember how she taught me to draw trees that didn’t look like lollipops and to fill out a blank check and to write an imaginative story. I thought about my Honors American Literature class and how we had studied civil disobedience through Thoreau and nonviolent resistance through Gandhi and Chavez and self-reliance through Emerson and the consequences of hypocrisy through Jackson’s “The Lottery” and “The Possibility of Evil” and The Crucible. I thought, “What a perfect opportunity to put these practices into action.” I wondered if one hour of CST prep would be more important than practicing student leadership and nonviolent protesting. Administration was behind this. Brittany Black-Jones and Taylor Fullylove were the seniors in charge. When you are a teacher of VAPA students, you really don’t have a choice…there was no one in the classroom left to teach. And really? I was satisfied to follow their lead.
Brittany and Taylor directed the hundreds of students coming out of buildings all around the quad to come together and find a place to sit…silently.
Students were orderly and respectful…and mostly quiet. With dedicated protesters often come those who just want to get out of class…they were not so quiet.
Brittany finally took a stand on the whole not being quiet issue. She stood up on the elevated concrete bench and said, “If you aren’t serious about supporting 31 pink-slipped teachers at our school who are sitting in hearings right now trying to save their jobs, go back to class! If you are too embarrassed to sit quietly with your finger on your lips to symbolize our cause, go back to class! This is a voluntary silent sit-in…you don’t have to be here!”
Ahhhh…now they were quiet. No adults in charge. What amazing, brave young leaders.
Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the quietest one of all?
Now that’s what I’m talking about…
Dr. P and Mrs. Vera were standing by for support.
When the front quad was the quietest it had every been, Mrs. Richardson-Davidson broke the silence with her “I Have a Voice” speech. It is unfortunate that Mrs. R-D has had to give this speech for two years in a row now, but I know the other pink-slipped teachers are thankful to be represented by her heart-felt words.
Taylor added her voice and her thanks to the students for supporting their teachers.
Mr. Erving, our SDEA rep, stepped back after sharing his thoughts with the crowd.
The students were contemplative about the serious consequences for students and teachers alike if teachers and programs continue to be cut.
The audience — covering the entire front quad — was respectful during and after the speeches.
It wasn’t until they were given the rally cry, “We have a voice,” that hands went up and voices lifted through the trees…maybe all the way to the hearing rooms where hundreds of teachers awaited their turns to speak.
Since 30 of the 31 teachers who were honored in this protest were not present, I am sending these pictures so that you can feel the love from your students, your school, and your colleagues. Props to Brittany and Taylor and the hundreds of students who followed their lead.
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There have been a lot of sunrises lately. The sun reflected through the sun roof of mama’s resthome and lit her up from the inside out. She has the most amazing blue eyes that have always hidden behind them all the things she would never say.
I want to believe that these contemplative looks are still imagining and wondering important thoughts about her life and perhaps all the things she has not yet done. Sometimes this look makes me sad, but other times I take great comfort in its calmness that feels like wisdom.
Always, but especially lately, I have had to be my mother’s advocate. There is never anyone that will take care of our parents the way we think they should be cared for…and yet I could not take care of her any longer either. Her paranoia, wandering, and sundowner’s tendencies to stay up all night kept me from sleep and made it difficult to go to work the next day. So I, like many others, have had to rely on a system of elderly care that doesn’t always work the way I think it should.
I had to tell my mother’s caregivers that she was a capable woman who owned her own business, and went to work every day looking impeccable. I had to tell them that just because someone cannot care for themselves anymore, and cannot communicate what they want to wear and how they want to look, does not mean that those issues should be ignored. I had to tell them that just because someone can’t tell her caregivers when she has to use the restroom does not make her incontinent. It just means they have to ask her more often.
I had to tell them that just because she can’t walk on her own anymore doesn’t mean that she should live in a wheelchair. Our oldest, wisest citizens, just like all of us, want to retire to a living room after dinner that has couches, comfortable chairs, and recliners. They need to feel like they are in their own homes. These similarities to their normal activities of daily living keep their minds engaged longer than if they have no familiar routines or choices ever. I want my mama engaged. I want her happy. I want her moving and grooving and looking sassy.
This is one of my favorite looks. Direct eye contact. It doesn’t always happen. I say, “Hi mama…How are you today?” And she looks straight at me and says, “Well, what are you doing here?” When June and I are together visiting, we fight for this look and add up the times we get one. Competition. Definitely competition.
But there is no competition when great-granddaughter comes to visit. Great-great keeps a content smile on her face and keeps reminding me to watch her closely and get her something to eat. What mama still knows when she doesn’t know anything else, is that young children need to be taken care of.
The day after Nora’s visit, a different generation of granddaughter came to visit from Napa. She and Lindsay went for a walk on a cloudy, cool day. This look is somewhere between “I’m having so much fun,” “I’m so excited to see you,” “It’s way too cold out here,” “The sun is too bright,” and “I’m really, really happy.”
Warm again, the smiles returned…in place of conversation…but warm, right?
 Oh, yeah, and those baby blues looked right at the camera. It’s a good day.
 Lindsay knows the most comfortable act of generational affection…wrapping her hands around her grandma’s hands. I have spent many an hour wrapped around her hands. No competition here. There is enough love to share.
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I don’t know if I’ll ever again be able to get the same spiritual experience inside a building after spending the past two years finding my higher power in the wind and the trees and the sun and even the rain.
When I arrive each Sunday morning, this is the first man I see. He is as consistent as the lake itself. Every Sunday that I have been there, he is there, exercising, rain or shine.
The second sight I see is a bit of lake through the trees…and this morning a woman walking her dog. She just melted into the foliage as I snapped the shot.
And then the space opens up, and my friends are gathered in the very same spot they have been gathered in for over 35 years. They are circled up, choosing the sun or the shade or a combo of both…but they are there, as constant as the trees and ducks and water.
The overhead is…well, there isn’t any. There is no need for decoration of any kind. There is no need for electricity or technology of any kind. The music is provided by the ducks and the breeze and the occasional paddle or motor boat going by.
This guy was very calm about sharing the space with us.
And close by a cousin or sibling sitting right next to another duck who blended right in with the sticks on the ground.
This little girl was meticulous as she tore her slice of bread into bite-sized pieces for her adoring fans.
Her brother’s tactic was a bit more aggressive, taking a pitcher’s stance as he raised his left leg and followed through with a strong right arm.
All of this we watch, like a cross hanging amidst stained-glass windows. We watch from our lawn chairs or blankets or stools. We come in our sweat pants, our jeans, our tennis shoes, our hats. We come with umbrellas, coats, gloves, and scarves. We come on time or 15 minutes late or 30 minutes late. No one notices and no one cares…in a good way. We stay for an hour and a half. We keep coming back because it works if you work it.
On this day, someone has volunteered to open the meeting with a reading about honesty and truth. Many of the folks at this meeting have grown up with active alcoholism around them from the time they were young. Their experience was “If you don’t talk about it, it’s not really happening.” Honesty is living in the moment. Dishonesty is the opposite of being humble.
Honesty is NOT:
- reviewing the past
- judging (yourself or others)
- telling white lies
- beating oneself up for what could have been
Some people shared how difficult it was to be honest. They were so used to covering up for the alcoholic that it was difficult to be truly honest with themselves or anyone else.
Then, as often happens at these meetings, someone looked inside my heart and soul, and shared exactly what my problem is. My problem is not a problem with not being honest. My problem is — in her words — “obsessive-compulsive self-revealing disorder.” We laughed…but this is exactly what so many Al-Anoners do. We are one extreme or the other. I feel I have to reveal myself, share my feelings, tell my deepest, darkest secrets so that the people I care about will understand me fully, and love me for the essence of my very being…but they don’t really want to know who I am or what hurts me or what I need.
Many of the people I love ended up thinking I was crazy. But someone else said, “I have learned that I am not crazy. There are many of us who suffer from the effects of alcoholism.” I was made to think that I was crazy whenever I couldn’t understand why the people I loved so deeply and wanted to share my every thought and emotion with, didn’t want to reciprocate…nor even hear my revelations.
So here is the only revelation that matters. Here at Al-Anon at the lake, we can say anything we want. No one thinks we are crazy. We can share when our feelings are hurt. We can share when we feel alone or abandoned. We can feel insane and share our insanity, but — and here’s the essence — no one thinks we are insane. They smile with those knowing smiles. They say, “Keep coming back. It works if you work it.” Pretty soon you’ll have fewer and fewer incidents of insanity. We will never be shocked or disappointed or disgusted by you. We will smile because we have been there. You are one of us. It’s okay.
I spent a lifetime trying to figure out what the people in my life who I loved wanted so that I could be the person they wanted me to be. But guess what? No matter what I did, they weren’t really interested in me in the first place. They were interested in their own lives, their own obsessions, their own addictions. There is no honesty in living for others.
One woman shared that life is truly like a box of chocolates…if the chocolates get melted, they will never look the same. Once we have recovered through Al-Anon, we will never be the same person.
After our main meeting, four of us get together every other week for a step study. We are on step four, “Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.” It’s a difficult step. In Al-Anon we have lots of acronyms and acrostics for crazy thinking. One is “The Four M’s.” We talked about them in our step study meeting: mothering, manipulating, martyrdom, and managing. We talked about how often we make choices that are painful to us. We talked about how often we do not address our own emotional and physical health. All of these choices lead to our character defects. It’s hard to look at my character defects.
The amazing men and women in the Al-Anon circle always know the right things to say or the right page to turn to in our literature. Courage to Change says this about defects: Step Four asks that we allow our higher power to take away the things we do not need. Every single defect that is removed has been hiding an asset. We won’t lose ourselves at all. Instead, as we let go of the things we don’t need, we make room for our strengths, skills, and feelings to become more fully a part of our own lives. Everything we need is already present.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.
Keep coming back. It works if you work it, and you’re worth it.
Subscribe to Slightly Squinting by clicking the “subscribe” button at the top left corner of this page. Go ahead. You’ll be supporting local bloggers and businesses, giving yourself something to read while you eat breakfast in the morning, and joining the Slightly Squinting family. Who can’t use more love and support? When you get the email notification, just click where it tells you to, and you’ll be confirmed. Thanks…I look forward to squinting with you!
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Eli went right for the calories to rejuvenate after the exhausting photo shoot. Grandma did the same.
