The Mother's Day edition and a letter to my grandma

I have been delving deeper and deeper into the literary abyss that is Vanity Fair.  I am now down to the last 200something pages and it's getting more interesting (and sad) by each page.  The more I read, the more I am disgusted with Becky Sharp's behavior.  I won't reveal too much for those who haven't read the novel.

Anyhoo, Mother's Day went well for my mom.  She was treated to a $40 per person buffet at the Bahia Hotel in Mission Beach by my dad.  They went there previously for Easter and although Dad didn't think it was worth the money, he took Mom there anyway and both of them had prime rib for breakfast (I would totally eat prime rib for breakfast any day of the week).  After work, I came home and presented my mom with a cookie I got from work but forgot to give her earlier, a glazed clay coaster, two rolls of Necco Wafers, and a pair of Carnelian disk earrings.  Although I'm not as close to my mom as I am with my dad, I love her to death.  She is my friend, my guardian, and everything in between.  She carried me for nine long, grueling months before giving birth to me on August 31st, 1981.  To quote the comment I put on Facebook a few hours ago: "Any woman can give birth but it takes a special woman to devote her time and energy to raise children in love and faith."  I feel that my mom matches that statement.  To me, she was Supermom.  The woman who kissed my boo boos, stayed home with me when I was sick, encouraged me in any future endeavors, put a card in my backpack on my first day of junior college and on my first day at the university, comforted me when I was laid off, and praised me for rebounding with another job.  Mom, I love you.

Also, I want to write a letter in this blog and dedicate it to my late grandma, Ruth.  My grandma was very special.  Although she wanted me to be more feminine and play with Barbies instead of  ninja turtles as I did, she was truly a good person.  She died the day after Christmas in 1995 of non-alcoholic cirrhosis of the liver.  I was 14 years old at the time and I didn't think my grandma would die at her age (62).  Although I never cried when she died, I still miss her and I dedicate this Mother's Day blog entry to her and my mom.  Here is my letter to my grandma.

Dear Grandma,

It's been 15 and a half years since you have passed on.  Although you lived to see me graduate from the eighth grade, you never saw me graduate high school or college.  You weren't at my 16th birthday party.  But I know you are with God and that's all that matters.  You helped me with my math homework, kissed my boo boos, and gave me advice on boys when I was in junior high.  Although I may have frustrated you at times, you still loved me and doted on your favorite (and only granddaughter). 

I'm almost 30 years old now and you are definitely on my mind, especially today.  You would've been beaming with pride as you saw me graduating from high school with honors.  You would've bear-hugged me as I turned my tassel from right to left when I received my college degree.  Had I been married with children at this point, you would be the doting great-grandma like my mom's mom.  However, even though you aren't here physically, I know you're looking down from Heaven, watching everything I do - all the mistakes and the successes that I've made so far.  You would be and still are proud of me. 

You were the Supermom to my dad and my aunt and you were definitely Supergrandma to me and my cousin Tony.  I miss those days hanging out with you, Tony, Aunt Carol, and Grandpa on the weekends.  Tony and I would ride up and down the street on our bikes with the neighborhood kids and sometimes you would come out and make sure that we were within your eyesight.  You made the best macaroni and cheese.  You were a terrific seamstress.  If only you could've taught me how to play the old, 100something year old piano that was sitting in the living room behind your recliner.  You cringed when Tony and I would play on Grandpa's old rusted truck or in the thorn-infested space between the next door neighbor.  And while I do admit that making me wear that hideous black and white kitty cat dress you bought for me was a dumb idea, I still love you anyway. 

Love,

Shannon

Writing this letter is totally pulling on my heartstrings; I feel like crying but I can't cry (I think most of you know that feeling).  The picture above is my grandma with me as a baby.  I'm going to take a guess that I was a newborn in that picture. 



That's all for now.  Fin.

This video goes out to all you moms out there.

Fashion, writing, biking......oh my!

I just saw Coco Before Chanel; it's a good movie but it has a small problem with continuity.  Still, it's interesting to see how Coco got to be where she was; the woman was pretty much a self-made individual, who did have a little financial help from a couple of boyfriends here and there.  This woman literally went from rags to riches and, according to the DVD commentary, she was a feminist of sorts; working in a field that was dominated by men. 

I have decided on a way to get started on my novel; little baby steps.  I am going to do one character sketch a day until I've got everyone written down and then I'll go back and add other minor details.  Not sure how to do character sketches for novels but I'll figure out how to do it. 

Today, I went back to Mission Beach to rent a bike.  This time, I rode for a little longer.  I almost quit going up the second leg up to Law St. in Pacific Beach but I had more time on my rental agreement thingy (I had rented the bike for 2 hours) so I pushed myself to go up to Law St.  I finished my ride in 90 minutes and the lady at the bike rental place wanted to know if I was interested in finishing out the remainder of the 2 hr. rental and I told her that I was simply too tired and worn out, which is true.  However, I felt incredibly energized that I decided to walk home from the trolley station instead of taking the bus.  I was about five minutes into the walk when my neighbor saw me walking and offered me a ride home.  I usually don't decline generosity so I accepted the offer and got a free ride home.  Maybe it was God's way of telling me that I've had enough exercise for one day.  During the 90 min. bike ride, I kept myself pumped up by listening to "I Gotta Feeling" by The Black Eyed Peas on repeat on my Android phone.

I also found out today that flexing my big right toe hurts.  I'm not in agony or anything and I can walk okay but the pain, which is very mild, has been around for at least a week.  When I was riding the rental bike, there were times that I had to stop using my tippy toes and putting pressure on my big toe stung a little.  When the pain started, I chalked it up to just being sore and not drinking enough water.  Turns out, it might be due to the shoes I'm wearing.  My right shoe seems to press against my toe.  It's not bad that I have to forsake any physical activity but if it goes on for another week, I might see a doctor about it.

That's it for now.  I've got to wake up early for work.  Fin.

Civil War geneology and a beachside bike ride

Tomorrow will be the 150th anniversary of the start of the American Civil War, a conflict that lasted about four years but has so much history and background on it.  It is significant because we, as a nation, could have possibly been divided into two different nations.  It is significant to me because, about a few years back, some of my dad's relatives had mailed us some geneology information.  Apparently, one of our ancestors on the side of my paternal grandmother had fought in the Civil War for the Union.  His name was Joseph McCracken, the son of an Irish immigrant, Solomon, and his American-born wife, Esther.  He was the youngest of Solomon and Esther's children.  Unfortunately, Solomon died in 1850, shortly after sailing to California for the gold rush from the East Coast (they sailed around South America and up along the Pacific shoreline).  Anyway, Joseph enlisted in the Union army in 1864 when he was about 20 or so.  According to the information that was sent to me, my ancestor was in the Iowa Infantry, Co. E, 15th.  I did a little research on the Internet and I was able to find out more information about where he was stationed: GAR POST 80, Red Cloud, Webster County Nebraska.  Now this is some interesting stuff.  It's really cool to know what your relatives did a century and a half ago.  I really wish I had pictures of Joseph McCracken in his uniform; that would've been interesting. 

Today, I went on a 90 minute bike ride along the Mission Beach boardwalk.  It was a lot of fun and I wish I had the time and the money to do it all day.  I rented a bike, rode up from Mission Beach to the start of Pacific Beach, past the Crystal Pier and the lifeguard tower, turned around, and rode back to the end of Mission Beach.  I contemplated riding the bike to nearby Ocean Beach but it was too far and I'd have to ride on city streets.  I then turned around and made a grueling bike ride back to the lifeguard tower near PB because going that way is the "uphill" part.  The downhill part is fun and riding back "down" makes me feel as if I were flying.  With the wind in my face, a beautiful blue sky with small patches of clouds, pelicans flying in formation, I thanked the Lord for this beautiful day that He had made. 

Well, it's almost 10 after 11 p.m. this evening.  Time to retire.  Fin.

Jane Austen: Detective.....and other stuff.

I'm now a fan of this awesome book series by author Stephanie Barron.  Basically, the series features Jane Austen as a detective!  Well, not in the Sherlock Holmes sense, but more as an amateur sleuth, per se.  I've read three books in the series and I'm currently reading a fourth Jane Austen mystery book (not in any particular order).  It's really neat to see how Jane would've acted as a detective/writer.  In the series, the reader is introduced to Jane Austen's family, namely her brother Henry and his wife, Eliza de Feuillude and her other brother Frank Austen, a naval captain.  I haven't read further into the series yet so I haven't "met" Jane's other siblings.  Jane's own mother seems to be similar to that of Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth Bennet's mother in Pride and Prejudice.  If you loved Jane Austen's books, I highly recommend this mystery/detective series.  Right now, I'm reading Jane and the Ghosts of Netley.  After I'm finished, I will move from Regency to Victorian literature with Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray.

I'm still thinking about my ideas for my own Victorian era novel.  I still haven't drafted an outline just yet.  I usually like to write a short story version of the novel first and then compose an outline from that.  I'm excited and nervous at the same time.  I may not be on the New York Times bestseller list but it doesn't hurt to dream.

On an unrelated note, I started to gain some of the weight that I had lost years ago.  So, I've been exercising again and changing my habits...again.  It's frustrating but I think I might consider getting help from a nutritionist or dietician.  If I have a strict, structured diet, I can stick with it and lose more weight.  After church, I spent my afternoon going on a 5 mile walk.  At the four mile mark, I contemplated going seven or eight more miles but at the five mile mark, I was tired and I didn't want to push myself.

Tomorrow, I may go for a bike ride along the boardwalk of Mission Beach to Pacific Beach and back.  It's a lot quicker than simply walking from MB to PB and back and a lot more fun.

Fin.