It's broken

Continuing our journey north on I-5, we ran across a couple of truckers who had a bad day. We have no idea how this happened (and believe me, my parents and I discussed it and still can't figure it out), but there were two big rigs busted wide open, both on the same side. Anyway, here are a few pictures...again, taken by Mighty Man. This first picture is of the truckload of Gatorade.

Here's part of the other truck, which was loaded with fresh vegetables. There were heads of lettuce everywhere, plus parsnips, cabbage and other assorted veggies I couldn't readily identify.

Here's one of the trucks. See, it really is broken! Although you can't really see it from this shot, the nose of the truck was bent down to the pavement. I just don't know how they managed to break it. Whatever they did, they did a good job of it.

And just as we were sitting in traffic, inching our way forward, we saw this front end loader coming south on I-5 toward us. I thought it was a little odd, until I saw it whip a U-turn and trundle up the side of the road toward the wreckage. Admittedly, I thought that was a little odd, too, until I saw the extent of the produce and cases of drink scattered over a mile of freeway. Then it all became clear.

Honestly, I'm just thankful that during all of our traveling this month, we managed to keep our noses clean, our trucks out of the ditch and our family safe. Because that's really what matters. :o)

Future photographer

Now that we're back home, safe and sound, and the mountains of laundry are clean (although not yet folded and put away), I have a moment to reflect on our trip to Oregon. Our drive north on I-5 was absolutely beautiful. Along the way, we passed Mount Shasta. Now, before you get all up in arms about these photos, let me preface it by saying...none of them were taken by me. I was driving!

So here is Mount Shasta, in all its snow covered glory. It is a magnificent mountain, covered in glaciers and usually shrouded by a stray cloud or two. Sometimes, it is completely obscured by the cloud cover, but not the day we drove up.

Here's Mount Shasta from a slightly different angle...a really artistic shot, if you ask me. You have the standing water from recent rain storms in the foreground and a snippet of the rumble strips in the lower right corner.

And one last shot. Really, you'd never know these were taken out the truck window while speeding down the freeway...by our four year old, would you? I think we have a budding photographer in our midst. :o)

It just seems so strange

We (the kids and I) have been here in Oregon with my parents, cleaning out my late grandmother's house. For two weeks, we've been cleaning, organizing, packing, sorting, tossing, burning, recycling, perusing, moving and otherwise sifting through her belongings. It's been a fascinating journey through time. Time has stood still in this house. So many treasures were found in amongst the junk mail and newspaper clippings.

The last two days we have spent loading a trailer and the back of my truck. Tonight, as I roamed the house looking at things here and there, I was suddenly hit by a wave of sadness. This is the last time I will be in my grandma's house. It's the last essence of her in existence. After we shut the door and drive away tomorrow, that's it. That part of her ceases to exist outside of our memories.

My hands are cracked and bleeding. They burn when I wash them. They've been so used and abused and sadly neglected. All to preserve that which used to belong to grandma. I'm sad to leave the house that bears so many memories. I'm sad to close the door on this chapter in my life. The last 7 months I've spent a great deal of time with my parent's in one of the more difficult times in their life. We've become closer, laughed together, shared private jokes together (ask me about the shoe shine kit some day...it's worth the time to tell), cried together, slaved together. I hope we can continue the closeness we have, it means so much to me.

So I honestly don't know where I'm going with this entry. I suppose wherever my hands take me. My mind is lost in the sadness and quietude of it all. I feel a profound sense of loss and a deep desire to be able to give my grandma one final hug and kiss goodbye. I can only hope she hears the cry of my heart. It's all I have left.

Next time, look a little higher

Mighty Man has a habit of taking off his clothes and flinging them. I find his clothes and pajamas every where. Behind the dresser, under the dresser, in the clothes hamper, hanging from door knobs, on his bed, in his bed, behind his bed, under his bed, on the book shelf, in the book shelf, behind the door...you get the idea. It can be a challenge to find them in order to have him wear the same pajamas two days in a row.

Well, just before we started this road trip, I was madly doing laundry and in the throes of preparation for living for 3 weeks without doing any laundry. Imagine my surprise when I found his shirt, but not his pants. Actually, I wasn't very surprised at all, but you get the idea. I checked all the usual places. I checked the bathroom, the bathtub, the hall, the laundry basket, the toy box, the family room, behind the couch, in the entertainment center...every where I could think of (because I've found his clothes in each of those places before). I searched and searched and finally gave up.

For the better part of the day, I ignored the fact that I couldn't locate his pajama bottoms. I'm not sure what prompted me to look here, but this is where I eventually found them:


They were, in fact, still in his bedroom. I simply had not looked high enough. Next time, I'll remember to check the ceiling fan for wayward clothes. *le sigh*

Jack Frost

When the kids woke up this morning, they were greeted by a winter wonderland. Since it rained quite a bit yesterday, and froze hard over night, the whole landscape was drastically changed.

Little Miss was the first to exclaim, "Look! Jack Frost came and visited last night! It's beautiful!" And then, faster than fast (and believe me, I had no idea my kids could move this fast), they had bundled up and were outside, exploring the wondrous sights.


The whole yard was a sea of frosty green grass, adorned with tiny crystals of white. Standing water was frozen through. Water in buckets sported a nice layer of ice, through which one could punch a well aimed fist. There was much to see and experience, and nothing could persuade them otherwise. Unless it was the bitter wind, tugging mercilessly at their wraps.

My grandmother's house has a ramp at the front door, to allow free and easy wheelchair access. Imagine how wet this carpeted ramp became yesterday. Now imagine how slick it was this morning, frozen like a skating rink. Wow! Needless to say, the adults trod carefully there, while the kids slid down with abandon. And my poor truck...was absolutely fuzzy with frost, and stuck closed quite nicely. Note to self, do not try to open the back without a crowbar!

teeth, teeth, everywhere, teeth

By the way, I'm not sure what caused it, but kids have been losing teeth left and right here lately. Monkey Boy lost a tooth the first day of our trip and Little Miss lost her first baby molar two days later. The poor, poor tooth fairy is having one heck of a time trying to remember who lost what and where the heck those bad boys go after they fall out. They each claim to have a slew of loose teeth just waiting to fall out. Where's the Gorilla Glue when you need it? Stop losing teeth already!

Lizards do not like it cold

Brrr! Currently, I am in Oregon with our children. Being from southern California, this COLD, wet, dank, freezing, cold, wet, and did I mention COLD, weather is for the birds. Seriously, it's not for lizards like me. Or my poor children.

In SoCal, I send my children out barefoot year round. On really cold, wet (*cough, cough*) days, I may send them out in Crocs. But that really isn't often. It's rare that we don't get to at least the 60's during the day. Yes, 40's and sometimes 30's at night, rarely below freezing and always pretty nice. So we're weather wusses. And I freely admit that. Proudly, even.

Here in Oregon, it is a completely different story. Take today. High's in the mid 40's. The kids are dying to get outside. It's not that bad looking out there, just a bit of wind and lots of clouds. And it's cold. Did I mention that it's cold? Because it really is COLD out there. And inside, too, but that's another story. So we all go outside, and I dig out our "winter" gear from the back of the truck. It's stuff I've collected by hook or by crook, and gathered up specifically for this trip. So I put their jackets on, and they claim they're cold. Heh. Unzip those, wrap fleece scarves around their little necks. Rezip the jackets. Still cold. Put turtle fur hats on. And another jacket. Plus mittens. And gloves under those. I'm laughing because they look like Weeblows...Weeblows wobble but they don't fall over...right? Their arms are sticking straight out. You can barely see their eyes. It's a funny sight, but frankly, I didn't care. Because now they were all relatively happy and warm. Off they go to frolic and play, the Eskimo way.

You should have been there to hear the comments from the locals. Perhaps a bit of background would help here. We're at my grandma's house, helping my parents sort through her belongings to settle her estate. So the neighborhood is mostly older, retired folks who go out for a brisk walk during the day. And laugh that there's no way the children could get cold in all those clothes! This as Little Dude is turning blue and chattering. Because it's COLD out!

Honestly, Little Dude is a snuggle bug and a burrower in bed. He likes blankets. Lots and lots of blankets. And two pairs of pajamas, please. In southern California. Now imagine him out in that cold, COLD weather. He was a popsicle! Luckily, we were given some fleece lined pants, and he's been living in those plus a sweatshirt, socks and shoes in the house.

Oh, which brings me back to the house. It's a 5 bedroom house, with the original aluminum windows (read: drafty, noisy, pathetic excuses for part of the wall). With the fireplace going, it runs about 56*F in the house. Which makes my nose cold, and my fingers and toes numb. Occasionally, we run the furnace, but that doesn't do a whole lot against the drafty, gusty things that let in the sun as well as the wind. Fortunately, I brought a space heater to combat the chill a bit. Unfortunately, it tends to pop the circuit breaker every now and again (at least every couple of hours at random), which requires a trip out to the garage. Which is also COLD. My dad has taken to wearing his insulated coveralls in the house. My mom and I wear scarves and jackets. And the kids wear all manner of things, but always shoes and socks. Funny how important those long forgotten articles of clothing became.

In any case, there you are. A glimpse into the life that is mine for the next two weeks. Does Oregon get Santa Ana's? Because I could really use some 80+ degree weather right about now. My hiney is just flat out cold right now.