Father’s Day, Mother’s Day, Family……

 

It is Father’s Day and I am thinking about family and dear friends and how much they mean to me.

Recently I had a lovely visit from daughter Susan, and after that, a fabulous time with

my children, Rafi and Chandra in San Francisco before going on to Los Angeles to be spoiled yet again by my “other” children, Brian and Rebecca.

My son Rafi, when little, steals the spotlight at a fashion show

Although Susan has lived here and has many friends she could see, when she visited, she gave me the only

Susan and Rafi as children

weekend she had, plus every moment she could manage. She helped me find and visit a gentle friend, who was extremely ill (and shed tears upon seeing him so changed). I shall always remember that Susan made seeing him for the last time possible.

Daughter Susan, me, and my “other” daughter Amy, during Susan’s visit

In picking a time which worked for both my San Francisco and Los Angeles families, I didn’t realize Mother’s Day would be happening while I was away. I had nothing for my daughter-in-law, who is one of the best mothers I know — not even a card. Still, we had a Mother’s Day I shall never forget — and Chandra helped to make it so. First thing that morning, she invited me to join her in bed. “We’ll be served breakfast in bed,” she announced. What fun! Sure! I was willing.

A weary but still beautiful Chandra with little Remy in 2007

However, I had to climb UP there and I am, by now, just short of five feet and their

A favorite photo of my grandson Remy when he was younger

bed is HIGH. What a sight I was in my slippery nightgown and satin robe, trying to accomplish what seemed impossible. I kept sliding off! It was a ridiculous scene and the two of us howled with laughter. Rafi and Remy, were in the kitchen preparing a lavish, delicious breakfast. They were too busy making things perfect to be able to come see what was so funny.

I could have used a ladder

“Try getting your bum up first…” (Laughter…) “I’m trying, I’m trying,” (Laughter….) When I managed that, I hung on to the edge of the bed for dear life and wiggled my way up until I got first one leg, and then (hurrah) the other up and finally— ah, ah, I was on! I probably hung on to Chandra too. Who knows? We were laughing so much, I can’t remember.

Son Rafi, his Chandra and Grandson Remy send me a hilarious birthday song.
(I may get sued for this one.)

More organized than I, Chandra had a thoughtful Mother’s Day card for me. On it, she had written several things she liked about me. The very first item was “the way you laugh”. That induced even more peals of laughter. The guys in the kitchen must have thought we were totally nuts. (She also gave me a lovely gift of clothes that actually fit!!!) After we demolished our meal and I was dressed, I decided the men deserved the “treat” of seeing me climb onto the bed. First I undertook it from the opposite side. No problem. Going back to the original side, once again it was a struggle.

“The bed is not the same height on the other side,” I declared. Rafi came back with a tape measure and actually checked. I was wrong. It was probably due to the different strengths of my own ancient muscles. Oh, well, we learn every day….

Grandson Remy now

We later drove out to have lunch with Chandra’s mom and dad. It WAS Mother’s Day and after all, Annette raised a wonderful daughter for my son, grandson and me. Altogether a fabulous visit.

Rebecca and Brian regularly spoil me rotten in L.A.

I love trains, so that’s how I traveled to L.A. to stay with Brian and Rebecca. Brian took the first day off to hang out with me, and hang out was pretty much all we did. I was a weary traveler and it was HOT, so we didn’t do all the lovely things he had planned. Fortunately, I got to have what I really needed — a two-hour “beauty” nap which helped make me more beautiful (Ahem!) and the rest of my visit a delight. I was treated again like a precious jewel.

Its our tradition and always my birthday when Rebecca, Brian and I go to Ruth’s Chris Steak House

This post is meant to express my appreciation to those whom I love and who I am lucky to have in my life. No, I am not always perfect or right or nice, but those I love and who love me seem to accept my failings and forgive my transgressions and I am grateful…..

Here’s to you and yours!!!

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Why I Became a Bag Lady

 I used to say I didn’t want to become a bag lady. But it has happened — and the kind of bag lady I am is good. I have a place to live. I enjoy my apartment, the building I live in, my neighbours, my neighbourhood and my city. I also love my children and my grandson. I’m a lucky lady. That’s why it happened! I want everything I enjoy to still be here for my loved ones and others after I’m gone, so being a “bag lady” is just fine with me.

When I shop for food, I buy a couple of this and a few of that, and almost each different fruit or vegetable is placed in a separate plastic bag. I reuse the larger bags for garbage, but the smaller ones aren’t big enough for that, so I began taking a dozen or so bags back to the market to reuse over and over again. It works!

Having just returned from visiting loved ones in California for a couple of weeks, (where I was spoiled rotten) I came home to an empty larder. A major food shopping expedition was in order. First things first, thus after picking up a book waiting for me at the library, I visited the nearby greengrocer to stock up using my own plastic bags. When I got home, I placed my heavy purchases into my new shopping cart to wheel up to my apartment.

Well, it isn’t exactly a “new” cart, it used to belong to my neighbour, who parks right behind me. Someone left a cart he liked better than his own in our car park with a sign reading “free”. I happened to be in my car while he was exchanging his and I noted his cart looked sturdier than mine. He graciously hauled mine out of my trunk, placed it where someone else might take it, and loaded his into my car. By the time I got back from my outing, mine had already been claimed by another neighbour. What can be better than that? That’s what I call recycling!

Can any of this be reused?

We do a lot of recycling in our building, which delights me. We share and exchange books and magazines, plus other things we no longer need. I have a great little cot a neighbour was trying to get rid of. Big Brothers had refused to take it. I saw her reluctantly wheeling it back to her apartment and asked if she was trying to get rid of it. Yes and yes, she would be most grateful if I could use it. I use it often and share it with friends when they need one as well. It folds up flat for storage under my bed when not in use. It is recycled, shared and constantly reused!

Or will we be buried in garbage?

After knee surgery, I was told to adjust the tension on my Exercycle and increase it gradually. The tension was the only thing that didn’t work on my solid old bike. It was important that I use one and use it properly, but since I’m not good at fixing things, I decided to buy a new one. I put up a sign offering the used bike to anyone who wanted it. A new neighbour agreed to take it off my hands. I was grateful.

Now that I know him, I know he CAN fix anything.

“I can fix anything,” he declared. (Now that I know him better, I can vouch that what he said was, indeed, true.) I have a new bike and someone is using my old one. I’m happy about that.

When I was very young, I had an older neighbour who was extremely frugal. She never forgot that her father, in Europe, got into financial trouble and the bailiffs locked their dressers so the family could not get anything out of them. She sewed well and when her sons burned holes in her tablecloths, (everyone smoked then) she’d cut out the burned sections and make kitchen curtains out of them. When the sun faded parts of those curtains, she’d cut them again to make handkerchiefs with the salvageable fabric. In those days, I thought she went too far. Today, I realize that what she did was great for our environment. I was just too young to realize it.

I now carry plastic containers with me whenever I go out for lunch in case I want to bring some food home. That way, I save the use of additional containers and the restaurants I patronize appreciate it too. I reuse bags and paper. I don’t buy anti-bacterial soaps or cleansers. (I make my own cleanser using baking soda, vinegar and water.) I try to use things until they are worn, and give serviceable clothing I won’t use anymore to others.

Hey, I’m doing my part to save the world! I hope you are too.

 

“We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors; we borrow it from our children.”

Native American Proverb