High Bridge Hike

 On our way.  Actually, it was the wrong way.  We got about 1/4 mile down the trail when we were alerted to this fact.

 Sunset.  Beautiful.

 The Appomattox River.  WAY down below.

 Support structure.

See me with Sarah on my back?  I really did make it across.  And back.

Here's a little information about High Bridge:

High Bridge

We took off on a little adventure Sunday evening.  After the temperature dropped a bit and we were pretty sure there were no thunderstorms headed our way, we drove to Farmville VA to check out this amazing bridge.  I hate heights, so this was a real challenge for me.  But knowing that there was frozen yogurt at Sweet FROG waiting for me afterwards helped me through.  It was beautiful, but I didn't look down.  

And We've Been Here

 Sarah's 3rd birthday.

 Drumsticks for G.Barb

 Mudcats!

 Immy's birthday.

My new favorite mug, from Grandma Barb.

It's been a busy couple of weeks, with birthdays, visitors, baseball, and the sadness of a death in the family.  Our wonderful Grandma Barb passed away on May 26th.  The week following her death found us planning a last minute trip home to Oregon for Bill, several baseball games for the boys to play in, the sad departure of our Immy, and the realization that we'll not see G.Barb sitting in her chaise lounge (pronounced chaizy lounge) next time we're home.  

This is the transcript of our family's memories of Grandma Barb that were read at her memorial:

The other night Bill and I were sitting outside in the cool, evening air, watching the fireflies dart about in the trees, remembering his grandparents.  Especially Grandma Barb on this particular evening.  While talking and laughing our way through these memories, we realized just how integrated Grandma Barb was in our lives.  Starting from the years that Bill was a child growing up through the years that the two of us moved from being just-dating teenagers, to newlyweds, to parents of small children, Barbara was always there.  Certainly, her presence wasn’t always quiet or subdued. In fact, sometimes it was quite boisterous and silly.  But that was the true essence of Barbara.

I first met Barbara the summer before I turned 17.  Bill and I were barely dating, but when he invited me to go visit his grandparents with him and see their farm, I curiously agreed to go along.  Really, I wanted to see what kind of grandparents a guy could have that would make him chose hanging out with them over the more typical things a boy of that age would like.  From that very first visit, I understood.  Barbara was very gracious to me that day and I could see right off that she was a remarkable lady.  She wore a ratty old pair of pants (brown, no doubt) and wasn’t made up with fancy, styled hair, but her kitchen table was set meticulously, her home was immaculate, and she required just the right amount of formality to make me feel like a special guest.  I can remember thinking, “Ah, this is how a Grandma should be.”  As we sat at her table that afternoon, eating chili dogs and visiting, she told me that she had been well acquainted with my own great grandmother.  And then she proceeded to tell me that she was a “nasty, crabby old woman!”  Right then, I knew that THIS was a woman whom I could trust.  A woman who would always tell it to me straight.    

Over the next few years I was fortunate enough to get to know Barbara and Bill well.  Bill and I spent many, many evenings at their kitchen table eating Drumsticks or sitting in their living room visiting (often over the rather loud din of the evening news).  After a walk around the farm or a few hours of fishing in the river, we would inevitably wander up their driveway, always to be met with a warm and generous invitation to come inside for a while.   How I loved those visits!  Barbara would spend her time making us feel special. Whether is was asking about what we’d been up to, or asking us what she could get us to eat, or just really listening when we talked, she extended such a gracious spirit to us.  I think that’s what made her so special.  Years later, I saw that same attentiveness and patience lovingly expressed to my own children.  I do believe that she loved her role as “Grandma Barb” better than any other position she held. 

Barbara was fiercely loyal to her family. God help anyone who should be unfortunate enough to hurt a member of her family.  Actually, God help anyone who WASN’T a Pennick!  She loved her family with a depth and unashamed intensity that is seldom seen.

And then, there was her sense of humor.  I’m sure everyone here has a favorite story about Grandma Barb.  Some of us might even be a little embarrassed by her antics.  Not me.  I confess to thinking her sometimes-crass sense of humor to be hilarious.  She was a woman who loved to laugh and had no problem being silly.  That was just another reason why she was so fun to spend time with.

I lost my Maternal Grandma when I was just 13.  My other Grandma died when I was only 18.  I wasn’t fortunate enough to have my own Grandmas with me for all the important milestones of my life, like getting married and having babies.   I am so thankful, though, to have had Barbara fill that void.  No, she wasn’t actually my blood relative.  But I loved her like she was.  To me, she became my “real” Grandma.  I will miss her.

My favorite memory of Grandma Barb is standing in the field outside her house talking, and when a car would drive by she would say, “Damn foreigners!”  Every time she said that we’d all start laughing.  Another good memory of Grandma Barb was from when I was little.  She would bring old toy machines in from her woodshed and let me play with them.  I never liked her chocolate chip cookies, but I did like the Drumsticks she always had in her freezer.  Something I could always look forward to was getting unbirthday money from her in the mail. 

Jack, age 13

My favorite memory of Grandma Barb was going over to her house with my cousins, Olivia and Carson, to get Drumsticks.  Another good memory of Grandma Barb was going in her woodshed and finding old toys to play with at Grandma and Grandpa Pennick’s house.  Last year, we went to Oregon and saw her and we took pictures with her.  The year before that, Aunt Pat was there and I went out to get the paper for Grandma and came in and scared Pat!  One time, Grandma Barb gave me a lot of quarters.  One day, Grandpa and Grandma Pennick took us to Rosie’s and Grandma Barb sat in the backseat with me. 

Jon, age 8

Grandma Barb told me to “Be careful or you’ll clonk your head, kid.”  She also called me a rummy car.

Sarah, age 3

Unfortunately, Madeline did not save her story on her computer.  

G.Barb

Reposting this entry in memory of G.Barb's birthday.  Don't forget to eat your Drumsticks!

Grandma Barb is Bill's paternal grandmother. She's 89 years old and lives alone. I might add that she lives alone in the same house on the farm that her husband's family settled close to 100 years ago. G.Barb likes to share the stories about the horrendous state of her house when she "came home" around 1940(ish). There was no running water, no electricity, nothing but an outhouse (a 2-seater--she's proud of that fact), and a few cows that had roamed through the rooms. She's lived in this house a long time. She raised two kids here, was married for 60 years here, and can tell a million stories about all of the things in life that she's experienced here. Personally, I think I've heard all of them, though she's been known to surprise me with a new one on occasion. (My all-time favorite G.Barb story is about how she and her mother-in-law snuck down the the local brothel and wrote down the license numbers on all of the cars parked there. She was proud of that one!)

I love Grandma Barb. Since my own Grandmas died when I was young (one when I had just turned 13 and one when I was 19), I've always been so thankful for her place in my life. I was so happy to have a Grandma available when Bill and I were married, when I had my first baby, and at all the other milestone moments in life. She was always there, wearing her brown and orange (she LOVES the color orange) pantsuits, Coty Wild Musk perfume, and sensible brown shoes. Always offering a listening ear, maybe a little advice, and usually a funny story pulled from her own experiences. Always one to cry at happy and sad events, G.Barb likes to say that her "bladder is behind my eyeballs." I love that one.

Grandma Barb has a fiery tongue. I've seen her tell people off in such a way that if there were awards for such things, she would be the Grand Champion. Flipping the bird at bad drivers? Oh, yes. Very much a G.Barb thing. God help the person who would mess with any of her family. Bill and I still laugh when we think about her favorite chide at his childhood sporting events: "Hey, you kid! Watch it!" And my all time favorite, "You rummy car!"

Something else we love about G.Barb is her incredible collection of figurines. Holiday figurines, animal figurines, ugly figurines. You name it, she probably has a figurine to represent it. Through the years she has shared some of these treasures with my figurine-loving girl. When we travel back to Oregon for a visit, you can often find Madeline talking with Grandma Barb, discussing all sorts of important things. Sometimes they visit for several hours, just sitting and talking, occasionally eating one of her chocolate chip cookies or always-present Drumstick ice cream cones. This has always struck me as a bit unusual, a preteen (and later teen) girl who would take the time to willingly visit with her elderly Great Grandma. I really think they both enjoy it.

As we were putting the seasonal decorations around the house this past week, we rediscovered many of our G.Barb treasures. Each one reminds us of her and the many, happy times that we've had together.

These are our seasonal favorites:

This pumpkin was certainly from the Dollar Tree. Nothing special, but G.Barb has one just like it.

Mr. Ghosty. He made the precarious trip via the USPS. His candle holder was broken during shipping, but we still love him.

My favorite, albeit unnamed, squirrel. This screams Grandma Barb to me. Madeline believes that this might be her first G.Barb original.

This is My Blog,

So I can really write about whatever I want.  As I lay in bed NOT sleeping last night, I started making a mental list of things that bug me.  Evidently, lots of things bother me.  Here's just a small sampling:

Fake tans:  If you don't live near the equator, you shouldn't have a tan every day of the year.  Also, haven't we learned that excessive sun exposure causes skin cancer?  Spray tans are just tacky.

Fake nails:  Breeding ground for bacteria, and a colossal waste of money.  Americans, alone, spend hundreds of millions of dollars (do the research, you'll be shocked) on nail beautification. Just think of the good a tiny portion of those dollars could do.

Wheels that are worth more than the car they're attached to.

Those stick figure families on the back of cars.  Do we even care that you have two kids, three dogs, a cat, and a fish?  Nope.

Soybean, cottonseed, and canola oils.  In that order.  Oh yeah, and high fructose corn syrup too.

Littering.  People who throw their Bojangle's chicken boxes in my front yard really piss me off.

Overly flat ironed hair that resembles the pages of a book.  Just hanging there in a limp curtain.  Hair is supposed to look real.  Embrace your natural texture.

THAT haircut.  You know, the one that every middle age woman thinks looks stylish?  Thank you, Kate + 8, for giving us the ugliest haircut of the past 2 decades.  Seriously, even Kate grew that thing out quickly.  Bonus points for attempting Victoria Beckham's version.  It was ugly too.

Tight, thin t-shirts that make women look like a soft-serve ice cream cone.  Don't kid yourself, even layering them does not hide the rolls.  Just choose another shirt and move on.  You'll be glad you did.

Flip flops.  Useless, ridiculous "shoes" that make an annoying sound.  Hate them.  Hate them more if worn by a man.

Mildew that grows on vinyl siding.  Impossible to completely remove.

Men who tear the sleeves off of their shirts and call it summer attire.  Especially lovely when the shirt is stained and torn elsewhere.

Jorts.  Jean shorts on men.  Yuck.  Super yuck when worn with aforementioned flip flops.

Logo-emblazoned clothing.  I don't care where you bought your clothes.  Just snobby.

Obsessive dog people.

Lettuce that bolts before you can fully appreciate the harvest.

Cell phones.  And obnoxious ring tones.  And obsessive texting.  Another colossal waste of money.  Do we really need to always be in touch?  Do we really think we're so important that everyone wants to know what we're doing?

Reality TV.  Seriously, you don't actually believe it's real, do you?

Nasty magazine covers, right at eye level in the grocery store.  Yeah, I totally want my 13 year old son to see liberal use of the "v" word.  And my learning-to-read 8 year old who likes to sound out any word he sees?  Not so good.  "Mama, what does sex mean?"

Toddlers and Tiaras.  Disturbing.

Those infant car seats that people carry with them everywhere and attach to a stroller.  That is not a convenient mode of transport. Just carrying the flippin' baby and leave the behemoth accessory in the car.  Babies are made to be held by their parents not by a piece of plastic.

Velveeta.  What the hell is it?!

Buffering YouTube videos that take forever to load.

Too long hair on "older" woman.  Myself included.  Madeline told me my hair wasn't alright for someone my age.  She's right.  But I'm also too lazy to get a haircut.  I'm embracing the updo this summer.

And these are but a few of my pet peeves.  Lest you think I'm a negative person, I also made a mental list of the many blessings that we are so fortunate to be the recipient of.  Though rather awe-inspiring to think on, that list wasn't nearly as entertaining.

Mother's Day Trip

 Waiting for the ferry.

 Feeding seagulls on the ferry.

 Dancing on the street in Williamsburg.

 Considered leaving her here.  Or constructing one similar for our house.

 On "The Night Ferry."

I'm not sure why Jack is standing off to the side so far.  I'm a little bothered by this.

On Saturday we ventured to Williamsburg, via the James River ferry.  This was a combination Sarah's birthday and Mother's Day celebration trip.  Since we went on this same adventure last October for my birthday, Sarah has been enthralled with the "Night Ferryboat."  Every night before bed she asks to go on the Night Ferryboat.  Every.  Single.  Night.  It was also a requirement that we stop at the Hanna Andersson outlet and buy new pajamas to wear on the Night Ferryboat.  Pink and yellow, preferably.  See her new jammies in the picture?  They've got some yellow and pink in them.  Success!

The weather was beautiful.  Sunny, but not too warm.  We enjoyed feeding the seagulls on the ferry deck, though I'm not too certain that the bikers on the back of the boat appreciated it.  Last time we were on the ferry it was cold and windy--not exactly the type of weather for standing outside in.  

We were a little late getting started in the morning so we weren't able to make it in time to eat lunch at the Carrot Tree restaurant (that we love) in Yorktown.  Luckily, there's a Carrot Tree Annex, located in an old motor lodge, just a few miles from the Jamestown Ferry landing.  So we did that instead.  

Since we were in Williamsburg, we had to get Sarah's picture taken in the stocks.  Everyone in our family, as well as anyone who's been to visit us in VA, has had to have their picture taken here as well.  The main street running through historic Williamsburg, Duke of Gloucester St., has all kinds of fun shops to browse through, our favorites being the toy store and the candy store. There are always lots of dogs, musicians, and strange people to enjoy watching.  

We always get lost in Williamsburg/Jamestown/Yorktown.  This time was no exception.  We did, eventually, find a JC Penney's for Madeline to do a little shopping at.  And I bought myself a Mother's Day present at the Dick's Sporting Goods nearby.  I purchased a new running bra.  I know.  Totally exciting.  

The kids were treated to a rare McDonald's dinner (gag) and Bill and I bought sushi at Fresh Market.  And kombucha too.  How come there isn't a Fresh Market where I live?!  I'd be in heaven.  By this time it was getting dark (a necessity for riding on the Night Ferryboat) and we started to head towards home.  Kids were changed into their new jammies, chocolate was ready, and we boarded the Night Ferryboat.  And then Sarah fussed the entire 2 hours it took for us to get home.  The end.

Soap Day

 Cut the latest batch of soap this afternoon.  

This picture has nothing to do with soap.  It was taken on Sunday when Bill, Sarah, and Vader were visiting outside.  Sarah is sitting in the chair next to Bill.  I believe they were sharing a soda.  See the little red can next to Bill?

This is Sunday

 Today is a good day to bake bread evidently.

 Three loaves, ready to bake.

Granola bars.  Almost.  Just need to be cut.

One-pan granola.  Ready for yogurt.

And on Sunday I like to do most of my baking for the week while everyone is either napping or watching a movie.  I usually end up with a full cookie jar, a fresh pan of granola bars for snacks during the week, enough bread to last until next weekend, and at least one other staple that we've run out of during the previous week.  This week we were out of granola.

Hmmm.  I think I've been doing something wrong all of these years.