Wanitani: The Songs for Women of Gerwani

My daughter and her family (Orkes Manohara) are hoping to embark on an important and interesting research project. Click the video below and go to the website to get more information. With the help of you all and Kickstarter, they are hoping to fund their research by very early September. Can you help them out with a buck or two?

Joys of Summer

After a fairly unpleasant semester and an exceedingly unpleasant start to the summer, I have been unexpectedly treated to spur-of-the-moment excursions, complete with fun friends, a lake, a beautiful boat with sea-worthy dogs, and camping.

I have also made a commitment to ride my bike much, much more, since bike riding makes me so happy. I am pleased to report that any errand 5 miles or less from home is completed a la bicycle. Since my sense of direction, ability to read maps with any accuracy, as well as estimate distances has been completely unplugged since I moved to NorCal, I am often riding more than the 10 miles round trip I thought I was in for. Fortunately, I have an extremely patient bike riding partner who is in much better shape than I am, looks better on a bike than I ever will, and is very good-natured about the whole thing, so it's all okey dokey. No worries, no drama, no tears.

I also took a quick road trip to visit Little Lady Luscious, affectionately now known as Our Luscious Little Lady of Holy Terror...not named by me, her loving grandparent, mind you...by her mom, no less. Our little bundle of joy is now walking backwards, singing constantly, can count to 10 in three languages, and is in constant motion. Her favorite words? "NO". "MINE". Often run together and expressed at quite a volume.

The Rain in Spain Stays Mainly...

I have a new name! Finally, after arduous and lengthy linguistic training by yours truly, in person and on Skype, Miss Zippy now says my name. As a matter of fact, she's been saying it for quite some time. Silly me, I didn't recognize it as "Grams".

Little Lady Luscious has been saying "Poppers" since, well, since forever. Poppers is the name we use to refer to her great-Uncle John, who is my brother. He's not her grandfather, but he certainly lovingly fills that role; so, he decided when she was born that he preferred to be known as "Poppers". She began adding something after "Poppers", but we couldn't figure out what she was saying. "Poppers" came out of her mouth early, often, and clearly. "Grams"? Not so much. I decided when my little spot of sunshine was born that I didn't want to be called "Grandma". It just sounds so grandmotherly! I like "Grammie", but my children call their grandmother "Grammie", so that was out. I wanted something easy, and "Grams" just seemed to fit.

So, are you ready for it? Here's "Grams" in Miss Zippy's world: Galish Mia Mia.

Music to my ears!

Happy Valentine's Day!

I'm so excited! My favorite valentine is due to arrive on Thursday! There will be lots of smooching and hugging, endless smiles and giggling, much showing and sharing of things and stuff, and total and complete adoration, as there should be with one's favorite valentine!



How did I get so incredibly lucky?

Love is in the air!

Well, it's official! Flannery and Ryan are engaged! Yipee! Let the fun begin! Welcome to the family, Ryan! Of course, you've been part of the family for some time now, but let's just make this official! The timing couldn't be more perfect. Flanny's older sister, Maeg, is coming from Vashon Island this week, and that will give us gals time to pour over bride magazines, discuss weddings no one in their right mind would ever have (or be able to pay for), as well as perhaps generate some ideas that are actually feasible! Oooohhhh, the fun! The planning! The drinking while we're planning! Oops. Did I type that out loud?

Since there is normally more testosterone in this house than estrogen, I am looking forward to all the "girl" stuff (I know, hard to believe this is coming from me, isn't it?) Maybe it's that fortune I found in my fortune cookie a while back: "Get in touch with your feminine side". Suddenly, I'm growing my hair out (another topic for discussion with the gals, since it's at a really awkward, ugly, 'it's driving me crazy' stage), and I'm dreaming about the color pink, and fluffy, feminine, beautiful wedding-type stuff. Pink! Me and pink!

Such fun! Congratulations to Flannery and Ryan! Love you both!

A Very White Christmas!

Flannery and Ryan ventured off to Canada for the holidays, to visit his family. Thoughtful as she always is, Flannery offered to stop at Lake Louise, which is located in the beautiful Banff National Forest, and take a photo for me, knowing that Lake Louise is one of my most favorite spots in the world. Wow! It sure looks different in the winter! Apparently, it was sooooo cold, the rest of their party stayed in the car while this photo was shot. They were headed to Vernon from Calgary, and the trip was a beautiful one, albeit a very chilly one. Thanks, guys!

Photo credits: Title photo for blog - Ryan May/Flannery; Photo of R & F - Steve May

Ice Cream

I'm not sure why I'm writing about ice cream at this time of year. Brrrrr! It's cold! But, I was thinking about ice cream when I made a special trip to the grocery store to buy little Johnny's favorite flavor of ice cream on his birthday last week. I got to thinking about how great ice cream is. Although I don't eat it often, we seem to go through an awful lot of ice cream at our house, thanks to little Johnny's nightly habit, and Taylor's frequent trips to the freezer. Anyway, thinking about ice cream reminded me of Eddie Murphy's ice cream, or actually, ICE CREAAAAAAAM skit, and I thought you might enjoy listening to it. Beware for those easily offended, though. There are many cuss words in his routine:

And Husband Makes Three!

With great anticipation (and much anxiety on Maeg's part, worrying about Krus flying for the first time, we once again trekked to SFO, to pick up Krus.

Time really crawls when you are checking flight arrival status screens, monitors for two customs exits, and you are visually scanning the ever-growing crowds for a face that may or may not look familiar to you. Is that him? No, hair too long. Is that him? No, hair too short. Maybe that's him! No, too big. No, too little. Not him, not him, not him. Wait, is that him? Maybe?

Eventually (after what seemed an eternity), Krus made a quiet and unassuming entry. I don't know that I have ever been more relieved to see someone I don't know in my life! After an extremely tearful and anxiety-ridden night (on Maeg's part), with almost no sleep for many days (Maeg, and in turn, me), the growing family is reunited.




In typical Krus style (from what Maeg tells me about his sense of humor), Krus announced on the car ride home, "I've been on this street before". "This is familiar to me". He was referring to American T.V. he has watched!

I, too, am very relieved, and very excited to get to know my very handsome and quiet son-in-law. Although we are missing Taylor (who lives in So Cal) and Little Johnny Fishing (on the annual "On Golden Pond" trip with Grammie), it was an extremely satisfying feeling around the dinner table last night, to see the faces of relief, of love, of comfort, of caring. Very cool indeed.

Homecoming

Maeg has finally arrived! We picked her up from SFSO on Friday night. The anticipation was so great, and the waiting so difficult! She arrived, tired, hungry, alternating between ecstatic and tearful, but definitely glad to be on U.S. soil again, and happy to be hugged, kissed, fed, and generally fussed over. She is six months pregnant, and looks it!



Now, the waiting game continues as Krus picks up his permanent resident visa (green card), finishes cleaning the house they are leaving in Indonesia, and says goodbye to his family and lifelong friends in Indo. He flies to SFO on Friday, and has never been on an airplane. Ever. He's never been out of the country. Ever.

We are imagining how difficult life might be for Krus, being thrown into a new land, new country, new customs, new culture, new language, new family, new home, new neighborhood, new absolutely everything. She has prepared a "I am confused" letter in English for him to carry while making connecting flights, in case he can't find his way, which explains his plight (no speaking or reading English, never been on an airplane before, you know, the stuff that makes you queasy and nervous and excited all at the same time). Apparently, the airlines don't extend the "under 17 years old" treatment to new immigrants (you know, being walked to and from transferring flights, getting the little wings as a prize for flying, maybe chatting it up with the pilot in the cockpit). She has called every leg of the arduous journey (close to 9,000 air miles and over 20 hours) asking that he be escorted to connecting flights, etc., to no avail. Hence, the "Help, I'm confused" letter.

For those addressing him that are younger than he (including his lovely wife, no less), Krus will be referred to as Mas Krus, following the Indonesian tradition. I, on the other hand, being the old fart and mother-in-law (I still can't believe I am a mother-in-law, much less a soon-to-be grandma) will simply refer to him as Krus.

We will be shopping for foods that are familiar to Krus (we are now the proud owners of a rice cooker), as well as introducing him to foods particular to the U.S.(what food is truly American, anyway?). I am going to make a peach pie later in the week; he's never had a peach, so we'll see how this goes. According to Maeg, American food is really awful in Indo, so it's no wonder Krus is not exactly looking forward to American food. He hasn't had any good American food. We'll change that in a big hurry. He also eats to live (as does Taylor), rather than lives to eat (like me, Little Johnny, Maeg, and Flannery, and sometimes Ryan, too, for that matter), so the focus is all about the food right now (I am feeding a pregnant woman, remember?). Well, the food and the culture shock. Maybe the food and the public transportation. Food and money. Food and jobs. Food and babies. Food and pregnancy. Okay, maybe just the food. Yep, that's it. Food. Lots of it. Healthy, nutritious (we've been to the farmer's market, and Trader Joe's twice in two days), delightful, satisfying food.

Full House beats a Pair

As I was playing Texas Hold 'Em last night with Little Johnny Card Shark, Taylor, Flannery, and Ryan, a theme became apparent. I was clearly cleaning their clocks by frequently drawing a full house (three of a kind and a pair). As I sat smitten with my ever-growing, colorful stacks of poker chips, it occurred to me that this impromptu gin and tonic, card playing group was just that...a full house. Flannery and Ryan have been visiting since Tuesday, and Taylor has been here since Wednesday (his girlfriend, Racquel, is in So Cal, visiting her family).

It's been so fun having them all here! Endless loads of laundry (why would you visit your mom and arrive without every single dirty towel, sheet, and stitch of clothing?), food shopping, cooking, trips to Bev Mo! , more food shopping, late night and early morning chats, witty banter interjected by all (even during serious conversations about jobs, school, relocating, money, parenthood, adoption, choosing to not be a parent, politics, immigration, the economy), and just hanging out. We miss Meggie, terribly, but have had great fun thinking of names for the baby (serious and silly...so silly, in fact, I can't even put them in print).

It's been so very fun. I will miss them when they leave. I forgot how much pleasure I get out of seeing everyone around the table, enjoying a meal, waiting to see how long it will take for Flannery to get the giggles (I mean really get the giggles), and how long it will take before Taylor rears back in his chair, and waits for me to say the "mom" thing about cracking his head open if he loses his balance and falls backward, or ruining the chair by doing the whole "rearing back" thing that he loves to do and secretly, I think, loves to do just so he can see and hear me get steamed.

Yep. Full House beats a Pair, hands down.

Gimme a mulligan

Remember when you were a kid playing a game and you hollered "DO-OVER!"? Depending on what game or sport you were playing, and who you were playing it with, sometimes a do-over was not only feasible, it was really (at least in your humble opinion) the only way to keep the game going. Your teammates and opponents could either agree with you, begrudgingly allow the do-over and continue playing the game, or argue until you were all called in for dinner (or given the "five minute warning"..."dinner in 5 minutes, and wash up in the laundry room before you come into the house"), at which time all bets were off and the game was over, or at least postponed until dinner and dishes were done.

I'm wishing for a do-over right now. Otherwise known as a mulligan, in golf terminology. Some days we get a gimme, which is pretty similar to a freebie, in that the golf shot is so incredibly easy, of course you make the shot you were going for (amazingly enough, I don't always get those gimmes, which is a testament to my horrible golfing, which I can now blame on my hand, elbow, and shoulder issues that have been plaguing me for over a year).

Yep. A mulligan is what I am after. I wonder if grandchildren are nature's way of assuring us (less than perfect) parents of a do-over?

HAPPY, HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Happy Birthday to my little Miss Flannels! Flannery turns 21 today! Twenty-one! Imagine that! My little doodle bug, turning 21. So many memories of Miss Flanny Face. So many nicknames! So, indulge me, as I take that trip down memory lane.

Flannery, at age two, saying to her one year old brother, at HER birthday party, "Here, Taylor. You open this one." Or, at three, when being asked at a dinner party by a guest, "Are you Irish?" (come on, with a name like Flannery?) answering with a straight face, in a very matter-of-fact tone, "No, I have diahhrea!". Or at under five, being able to tell me, to the penny, how much change I would get back from $100 at Disneyland (as you know, mental math and I have never been the best of friends...she beat me to the answer). Or telling me that she reported on her STAR testing at school a different ethnicity each year (that particular year, as I recall, she bubbled in "Native American"). Or the time, during one of our annual camping trips at the beach, she ate a bowl of Lucky Charms, and then laughed so hard, she tossed them back up in the bushes, at which point her brother, Taylor, announced calmly, "I guess those Lucky Charms weren't so lucky". Or the time we were playing "restaurant" (I did this frequently to practice proper eating etiquette in public), and after I took everyone's "order", made the food and served it, someone mentioned paying the "bill", and Flannery said in one of her many accents,(this one was distinctly Scandinavian) and once again, completely straight-faced, "Will you be charging or will you be paying with the pigs?". Okay, so maybe these are not funny to anyone else. But they certainly were to me. Maybe you had to be there. I hope my children remember how silly we all were, so much of the time.

Many laughs, my little doddle bug. Happy birthday to you! I love you.

The Family

I spoke to my oldest daughter last night on Skype. Here she is with her husband, Krus. His full name is Krusnedi Sukarwanto, but he is simply called Krus (pronounced like caboose, not cruise, but roll the "r"). So, now I have a son-in-law. He calls me "Mama Leslie", because in Indonesia, it's not polite to call an elder (oh my god, I am an ELDER. How and when did that happen?) by just their first name. There needs to be some sort of title first. So, Mama Leslie it is. Chosen by Krus. At least for the time being. Eventually it will become nenek.

Maeg's Indonesian is so lovely! She is so fluent, in such a short time. Which is very fortunate, because Krus does not speak much English. Maeg is teaching him English, and he now says "hello Mama Leslie, how are you?" and "Goodbye Mama Leslie". Apparently, Maeg found a book written in English and he reads it at night. Although I sent her an entire box of books printed in English, they have not arrived in Java yet. She laughed when I told her the post office explained to me that the books would arrive in Java in 6 to 9 days. She thinks 6 to 9 months is more like it.

Krus is an accomplished cello player and works as a musician. He does not play in the gamelan, though. I'm not sure what type of music he plays. He has the most melodious laugh. It truly sounds like music. I am sure to Megan's ears, it is.

Expecting the unexpected

I love spur of the moment days. Yesterday was one of those days.

First, I spent some time at work, trying to catch up on the mountain of paperwork that is my life. Then, I spent a few hours attending a workshop on the HSI project. Unfortunately, I then spent way too much time taking my sick little Mini to the mechanic in Pleasanton. That's when the fun started.

Thinking we were going to make it to the Monterey Bay Aquarium in plenty of time (they close at 6:00), we arrived at 5:00 and realized there was no way we would be able to do it justice in just one hour. Of course, we had worked up a powerful thirst just getting there, so we wandered over to the pier and found a place that was offering margaritas for just $3.00 each. THREE DOLLARS? Really? Really. But just until 6:00 p.m. (Happy Hour on the weekend, an unheard of phenomenon). So, we plopped ourselves down at the bar with our out of town guest and proceeded to have MANY margaritas (they were really, really itty bitty; hence the $3.00 price tag. When will I ever learn that you really do get what you pay for?).

After the many, many margaritas, consumed at record breaking speed to get the fabulous Happy Hour deal, we then sloshed over to look at the boats and were approached by a middle aged man looking to take a few friends for a quick sail. Well, we were his friends, and son of a gun, if we didn't pile into his sailboat and go for a beautiful, albeit slightly rocky sail out about a mile and then back. Wonderful. A very short jaunt complete with an ocean breeze,an ever so slight spray of ocean water on my face, a sea creature of some sort (I think it was a seal), and back we were on the pier, sober, happy, and very hungry.

We proceeded back to the restaurant where we had polished off all those margaritas, and decided it was just the place for dinner. I had a warm, tasty cup of clam chowder, and a lovely salad. John had salmon and our guest had halibut. All quite tasty, and a perfect ending to an absolutely perfect day. (Well, almost, except for the sick Mini part.)

Grace in Small Things: 30/365

1. Friends
2. The ocean, at all times, anytime
3. Sailing
4. No matter how many I drink, I still love margaritas (although, I must say, I almost never find a margarita I like as well as those I make myself!)
5. All the theories of evolution discussed over so many margaritas and dinner

Never say never again!

I've decided I should ban the word never from my vocabulary. It seems as though most of the time, when I say NEVER, it usually ends up to be the thing I end up doing, inexplicably drawn to it, like a moth to light. I could give lots of examples, but they are not really that interesting. Well, okay, I'll give one example, like "I'll never live with a man again". Oops, there we go, first one on the list to go. I live with a man. Granted, he's my little brother, so I am not sure that really counts, and he's the neatest and tidiest man I've ever met, plus there's obviously no romance, so I am not sure that really even counts. No, I don't think so. I think I meant "I'll never live with a romantic partner again". Yes, that's absolutely what I meant. There are so many more. But again, not really interesting. Suffice it to say, I will work on that never thing.

Grace in Small Things: 28/365

1. The day off work, a day to play and relax
2. The train ride through the redwoods
3. My new water shoes, that were ON SALE
4. The fact that I live so close to the beach, it doesn't take all day to get there!
5. The inclusiveness of the current residents at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue

So, here's a very dated video of my son Taylor's first love, his car (it has now gone to the big junkyard in the sky). Although the car remains dear to all of our hearts (especially Flannery, who never could figure out how to drive a stick), Taylor has moved on to another car (really spiffy '94 Camaro) and numerous girlfriends (in other words, girls have replaced cars as recipients of his affection). Here it is in all its glory:





Grace in Small Things: 04/365
(I started GIST on my other blog; hence, this post starts with day #4)
(The point of GIST is to post 5 things every day that I enjoy/am grateful for, no matter how small and insignificant they may be to anyone else)

1. The class I teach on Mondays ( I LOVE teaching)
2. Blueberries
3. Pineapple
4. Apples
5. Temps in the 60's and 70's