Did I really need this???

I was content with my old computer. When the machine was about 11 years old, the Apple store which sold it to me refused to service it because, they said, it was too old. Ha. I just had it repaired elsewhere and managed my email, wrote my blog, and daughter Susan had just shown me how to take a photo with it although I’d already had it for about 14 years. Start over? What? Are you nuts?

This year I was told I could no longer do my tax return on it; and Rafi could no longer save my butt using TeamViewer, which

I DO get desperate

had been useful when I was desperate. Where computers are concerned, I DO get desperate — often. WWWEEELLLLLL, I had to rethink what I thunk. (I also admit I was terrified at having to learn how to use a new electronic device.)

 

Probably how poor Rafi felt

COVID:19 came along and thus Rafi is spending more time at home. He suggested this was a good time for me to take the big step. He chose a computer to suit my needs and promised to be helpful AND patient. He’s managed that — almost always. (Don’t be judgmental, I’m not YOUR mother. Lucky you!)

Because of everything else happening, our tax people gave us extra time to file, so the first thing I attempted on this brand-new machine, which can do 98% more than I’ll ever need, was to do my tax return. Well folks, I’m not totally useless  — I’m just technologically challenged. I made it! I did my return and e-filed it! Congrats to me. Yeah!

Andrew, my priceless local ‘grandson’ ordered the computer online for me and set it up when it arrived. He spent oodles and oodles of time transferring information from my old computer. I never could have managed without him.

Wouldn’t you like to open your computer and see this?

Then, just to make me happy, he managed to find a beautifully-coloured hummingbird for my desktop. I love it! Wouldn’t you like to open your computer and see this? (I love Andrew and he is gorgeous, but I didn’t know how to take photos yet the other day when he was here.) I am, indeed, a lucky gal.

Vinson, keeping me sane

Today, Vinson, my other handsome and also priceless local ‘grandson’ came by and transferred the rest of what was left over. He’s keeping me sane. I am now exploring the possibilities of managing to function. However, the question is, will I be able to get this post out to you???

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I want a rat tail like Remy’s…

Remy’s tail

The last time my San Francisco crew visited, I teased Remy about his long braid. After admiring it, I suggested he not dare fall asleep at night because I would cut it off and glue it on for myself. He laughed. He wasn’t terrified. (I’m using his photo here with his permission.)

I had no idea it was called a ‘rat’s tail’. Why would I? It was my patient friend Celine, who made my first real braid and commented that’s what it looked like. I thought it was because my hair is grey and Remy’s is black, (like mine used to be).

Then, son Rafi told me it WAS called a ‘rat’s tail’. Imagine! I keep learning folks. Don’t we all NEED to know these things? Aren’t you glad I’m telling you?

I’m a determined sort. Ask my kids. It drives them nuts.

All I could do was make a small ponytail

So, I continued to let my own rat’s tail grow, but now I’m isolating because of COVID:19 and giving friends and others I love a break by not seeing anyone. I’m definitely not talented enough to make a braid for myself in the back of my head. Forget it. All I could do was make a small ponytail and hope for the best.

The lovely braid Samantha made

Then, finally Samantha visited wearing a mask, washed her hands 100 times, etc., etc., etc. but still beautiful. What a treat. She made a lovely braid for me. I loved it. The next morning, it was stubbornly curled up to the left and no way was it willing to straighten out.

Note the stubborn curl toward the left of photo

Want some good advice? Watch out what you wish for. You may get it AND regret it. I had straight jet-black hair and would have sold my young soul to the devil to have it curl. Well, now I’ve got what I then wanted so badly. My grey hair IS wavy. I hate it! It drives me crazy. It won’t wave the way I’d want it to. It is totally uncontrollable. Sometimes it looks like the 1920s. Oh, woe is me… I’m back to nothing but a silly little ponytail.

You mean I didn’t make you cry with this very sad tale about my tail??

Precious memories….

I fell in love with him the moment I saw him

Sometimes I have to admit nature figured a few things out right by giving children to young adults rather than to their elders. Occasionally one reads about some woman somewhere who decides to have a baby at the age of 60. All I can say is rocks of ruck lady, it won’t be easy.

When I think of raising my children, I’m amazed I survived all the challenges — illnesses, sleepless nights, accidents, traumas and everything else parenting requires. Besides these, think of the wear and tear parents endure attending to their off-springs’ intellectual and moral development. How did I manage? And, could I do it now?

A favorite photo of little Remy

Yes, I love my grandson with all my heart. He’s definitely worthy of my love and surely,

All photos of little Remy are favorites

as the grandma in a Turkish series on Netflix often says to her grandson, I would die for him. Still I didn’t do much babysitting. I would have liked to, but wasn’t physically up to the task by the time he came along. The few times I did, I worried because….

My children live in a home with about 30 rather steep stairs to climb. I deal with a vestibular disorder which causes imbalance and dizziness. I once watched him (he was an infant) so my son and his Chandra, as new parents, could get out for a rare dinner alone together in the neighborhood. I worried. I’m good at that as you know.

2017,taller than me already

What’s if there was a fire? How would I get my precious, little grandson, asleep in my arms, down those stairs? I devised a complicated plan. I would place him on the floor at the top of the stairs, sit on the top step, take him back into my arms, and bounce down on my bum one step at a time. I don’t know if it would’ve worked, but it made me feel better. It was never tested thank goodness!

Many of us, as we age, live with a common condition — arthritis. Babysitting with this active, clever child when he was little required the playing of games. When he was about three, he seemed to have the wisdom of a sage. Did he know I was hurting?

He had just been given a new little suitcase, so we played going on vacation. We walked around and around the kitchen counter in opposite directions, he dragging his empty suitcase, with both of us declaring ‘See you later alligator.’ whenever we passed each other. The next time, the greeting was changed to ‘In a while crocodile.’ We laughed a lot. Afterwards, I was exhausted. I’m not sure if he was truly amused, or just babysitting me.

2018, much taller than me

When my son Rafi was about 14, he’d come up behind me as I cooked breakfast on the stove, give me a morning hug and rest his chin on my head. Remy can’t wait to be able to do the same. He’s rapidly getting there.

Yes, Remy, like that grandma in the Netflix series, I WOULD die for you!

Grandkids?

I never nagged my children to have children. I told friends it didn’t matter, that there was no need for my genes to be passed on — in the grand scheme of things, I felt it didn’t matter and I meant it. Not for the first time — I was mistaken.

I was smitten

There is something about being a grandparent. How can I explain it? It’s like a magical chain that pulls you to a brand new baby born to your very own children. I looked at that little bundle and was smitten. That’s all it took. Who would’ve thunk it?

My lucky grandson is well-loved. He is also being raised well by his parents, who are doing a far better job than I ever did — which is an additional plus.

However, one of the unexpected pleasures I’ve derived is

Rafi could sure hit that baseball

revisiting the memories of raising his dad, who was a smiling little one who rapidly grew into the kid who could hit that baseball all the way to Century City. (According to his coach.) Looking back at Rafi as a toddler and little boy made me love his son, Remy, even more.

How intriguing it is to have a grandchild. Genetics which skipped a generation showed up. My grandson inherited my teeth! His dentist calls them “sharks’ teeth”. My own adult teeth grew in behind, beside and in front of my baby teeth, which never fell out on their own, requiring braces to straighten out the mess that ensued.

Sharks’ teeth

I apologized to Remy for this. Wearing braces is no fun, and since his parents take good care of him, he’s had each baby tooth extracted when another threatens to come through, which I’m sure is no pleasure either. I’m truly sorry he experiences discomfort because of me — but he does so bravely and without complaint.

Still, I like to imagine that one day, long after I’m gone, Remy will perhaps be telling a grandchild of his own that he inherited my teeth, and his grandchild inherited them from him. Who knows, these shark teeth may continue for generations to come. (The good thing about mine is the roots are so deep I’ve been told they’ll never fall out —  so far, they haven’t.)

I hope Remy reads “Don Quixote”. I loved it.

Besides my bothersome teeth, Remy seems to have inherited my love of reading. Hurrah! I hope he derives as much pleasure from this pastime as I have throughout my life.

Here’s to you Remy!

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!!!