Showing posts with label grandchildren. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grandchildren. Show all posts

Sunday, December 6, 2015

WHAT IS A TRADITIONAL WEDDING?


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Somewhere, in a lighted, heated, tent, my “baby” brother, Clark,  got married to Theresa Gillick, a second marriage for them.
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Theresa wore a lovely wedding dress and the best man, my nephew Tom, wore a traditional suit. For Tom, a suit is a mile marker. I joshed that I had to attend this wedding just to see Tom in a suit. He told me he wore a suit to Clark’s first wedding as best man, and that it might be the last time he wore a suit. Uncle Clark is younger than his nephew Tom.
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Tom’s wife, Maryanna, claimed he didn’t wear a suit when they married. “I like it she said. I hope I can get him to wear it again.” (At his funeral he claims.)
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My son, Ken became licensed to marry them. A first for him.  By their own vows they pledged their fealty and wed. Writing your own vows has become traditional.
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Theresa has the cutest little grandchildren. This little angel spread flower petals for them to tred upon. Later, she gathered them up, from her own sense of right, and put them back in the bag.
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Having children in a wedding is always a joy as we look upon tears, smiles and questioning faces. Lucky Clark inherits a beautiful set of grandchildren as well. One of the good things about second marriages.
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This little grandson I believe was the ring bearer. He was only interested in his toy unless someone convinced him to look up for that crucial moment. Got it!!
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I like to tease Clark about being my baby brother but when he reminded me he was 60, I decided maybe I better knock it off. I doted on him when he was a kid and liked to play mother to him and my brother Mark, 13 months older. Of my five brothers, two are deceased.
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I watched fascinated when the photographer  stopped to arrange Theresa’s flowing veil and actually tied it up so she could walk properly. Gown’s can be shortened on the spot without a needle or thread. Traditional?
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My daughter Virginia mentioned how easy it is for kids to get acquainted. Abbie, on the right, stepped out on the dance floor and made instant friends with the grandchildren she’d just met.  Life is simple if you’re a kid.
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My oldest brother, Bill, parodied some movie character:  “Bring on the grub.” Soon enough, we were eating prime rib, chicken in a rich sauce, vegetables and a tossed green salad.
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A non-traditional chocolate cheesecake.
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The adults hit the dance floor after dinner and a few drinks.
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You go girl!
Everyone danced with everyone. It mattered not if women danced with women, or children or dads and brothers. I have fond memories of my Uncle Veron and Uncle Norman teaching me to dance for my Uncle Roger’s wedding.

Some years back it was tradition to put cameras on the tables and guests took pictures of each other. Clark and Theresa engaged the services of a photo booth.  Zany pictures, fun pictures or prim pictures, mixing people who didn’t know each other; instant results. Clark and Theresa and  guests get a copy. Clark also hired a limousine service that drives anyone home, and a second driver follows with your personal car.  Safety for anyone who may have had a drink too many. It was really fun. To see the rest of the pictures, click the link below:

2015-12-5-ClarkTheresaWed

Sunday, February 23, 2014

INHERITING TRAITS AS GRANDCHILDREN

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My sister Dawn’s celebration of life was held yesterday in Sunol, CA. population about 300.
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Dawnie’s youngest daughter, Debbie served as caretaker through those tough months before her death. She knew that Dawnie’s joy in life came mainly from her  family, particularly, her grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
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Her only son, Tom, pointed out the main events in her life, how she met their father, the birth of four children, facing death and divorce, working, working, working. while I mentally toted up her most obvious character traits. She was a hard worker, uncomplaining, and could be quite stoic. Never self-aggrandizing, nor prone to taking credit for her accomplishments. She was like a mother to her younger siblings.  She helped me through teenaged angst, convincing me of my worth, and beauty when I knew I was an ugly duckling. When her children were growing up, she proceeded to  mother and shelter all who came with-in need. Her children have those same traits.
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At a recent funeral I attended, I looked about and saw so much life in the room, and the same was true here. But, since she was my sister, I couldn’t dispel feelings of sadness for those missing faces and the heartache of loss, as well.  Her daughter’s Kim, and Penny, pre-deceased her, the most heartbreaking thing a parent can face. Kim’s son Ryan, his wife Cody and their children. Ryan claimed as a grandson Dawnie always told him he was perfect.
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The girls in Dawnie’s family from right to left. Kelly, Penny’s daughter. Kaitlyn, Kim’s daughter. Julie, Debbie’s daughter. Casey, Kim’s foster daughter.
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Dawnie’s niece, Christine Juliot and her son Seth, with his wife and kids.
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Dawnie’s other niece, Vickie Julliot.
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The Juliots are from the Dawn’s husband’s side of the family.
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Debbie made sure there would be things for kids of all ages to do. The message here is clearly Grandchildren are our most important assets.
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CJ and grandpa.
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Margaret and Abby.
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Dawnie was an inveterate card player, scrabble and boggle champ and in her later years, a collector of eclectic jewelry. Plenty of all decorated the room. Everyone was invited to take a pin and earrings to wear for the event, which we did.
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I am wearing one a Hershey’s kiss on my sweater and some gaudy gold balls on my ears from her collection.
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I tried to make sure I got a picture of everyone but I sprained three fingers in a fall yesterday and the fingers didn’t swell up until i drove home. So it has been slow going this morning and I’m just going to post pictures. and a link to the complete album at the end.
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https://picasaweb.google.com/106530979158681190260/2014222Dawnie

Monday, January 16, 2012

MONTE WOLFE WILL LIVE ON.

It’s interesting to me that when I first heard of Monte Wolfe and interviewed Harry Schimke, Monte’s unusual  life had been covered by the San Francisco newspapers, the Stockton Record, local newspapers and several historical societies. But, no one investigated Monte like Don DeYoung. Don first contacted me about my blog in 2009 and went on from there to meet the Schimke family. Harry’s daughter, Susan had all of her father’s photos and notes, and his brother Art was still alive.  Don did a major investigation about Monte that led to a  vastly more accurate portrait of Monte than anyone had before. As he put it, thanks to the internet, his skills and his own boyhood fascination with Monte from a boy scout camping trip, (that  he describes in one of the links below), Don  satisfied a lifetime fascination.  Monte disappeared in 1940, a date established by Harry Schimke,  who was the last person to see him alive.
Mark Bonar, too, became fascinated by Monte as a young man through his father-in-law, Paul La Teer, and subsequently collected materials, visited the cabins and introduced his own children to the legend of Monte Wolfe.  Monte built the “new” or second cabin in about 1933, Mark is guesstimating. As you can see, the hinged door is missing but the old woodsman’s device for “barring the door” was  in place.

Mark told me, “Paul knew that country and used to stash food, sleeping bags and wool blankets in rocks behind Camp Irene, which was about eight to fifteen miles below Monte’s cabins.  A Forest Service trail led down to the  new cabin from the Blue Lake side.  It is located about 12 miles from the mouth of Summit City Canyon Creek. The creek funnels into the Mokelumne.  The cabin was well hidden, nestled among the trees about 100 yards from a sharp bend in the river. There was a horse trail leading down behind the cabin (as yet not re-discovered). Monte, too, used “spike” caches to hold food and traps on his forays throughout the steep Sierra Nevadas, a common practice for ranchers chasing cows, sheepherders, trappers, fishermen and hunters.
Mark found a paper at the cabin describing how Monte built that cabin by himself. He hoisted all the material up onto the ridge pole using the wetted incline plane principle. The door was small, but extremely heavy. “The door probably weighed 150 pounds and had massive hinges. No one could remove the door without special tools or help.
“The cabin was beautiful; strongly built,  with two rooms. The foundation of lightly charred cedar rounds  discouraged insects. He had a screened pantry high up off the floor to keep out mice.  Monte dug a fresh spring near the cabin from which he piped water into a carved wooden sink and to a solar shower he hooked up on the cabin’s outside wall.”

“He also built a partly under-ground smoke house with hooks enough for 100 trout or a large deer cut into pieces.”  Mark showed me pictures of  carved log chairs, a table and other items Monte made. There were also  comfortable furnishings that Monte  hauled into that steep canyon from long distances.

(The above two pictures were taken by Mark on one of his many visits to the cabins.)
“Monte hauled a heavy cast iron cooking stove from Hermit valley to the cabin, piece by piece.  He was exceptionally strong.”
Monte was reported to throw a canvas sack of nails over his shoulders weighing 80-100 pounds, stand with it on his shoulders and visit for an hour and never set it down, then move on as  though carrying nothing. He was seen setting off from Blue Lakes on skis to his cabin on the Moke,  at night, an incredible feat in the day time,  without the deceptive shadows cast by the moon. Paul Le Teer described him as “…a swarthy, short man; a dead shot with a rifle, small feet, enormous calves, slender waist, and the broad shoulders of an athlete. He wore his long hair in braids, sometimes tied by a ribbon.”
There are many engaging stories of Monte’s exploits.  One I heard from a former bartender at Tamarack concerns the romantic Monte. Supposedly no one, the law, nor wardens could  “sneak up” on the expert woodsman. But,  the Bartender  came across him lying in a naked embrace  with a woman on a large flat rock  in the bright sunshine. He retreated undetected.
After Monte’s disappearance, people began using the upper cabin until the U.S Forest Service burned it down. The main cabin was harder to find, was locked, and  under the “protection” of the Linford family.
Mark  has a letter from the Lindford’s to the El Dorado Forest Service  Supervisor, Edwin Smith, after Monte’s disappearance was formally acknowledged. The Lindford’s were well off and owned an Oakland Construction Company. They befriended Monte and convinced him to jointly establish a mining claim on Monte’s properties, meaning the area of his cabins and property he occupied, but didn’t own. The Lindord’s enjoyed, with Monte, a private, free, Shangri La Cabin in the mountains. From the letter, Mark speculates the Lindford’s were interested in the amazing private cabin retreat more than Monte. The letter admits that they had never mined nor taken any minerals on their claims, they simply wanted to use the cabin and lands that Monte occupied and asked permission to continue to do so. Permission was granted them as long as they did not extend that privilege to others. So, they shared a special  lock with the forest service on the cabin door.
“Between 1955 and 1970, ” explained Mark, “fewer people were going to the cabin. The elder Linfords were essentially gone and their son, family and friends used it on rare visits.  A tree fell on the cabin and took out one corner of it and the end result would certainly be steady deterioration. The cabin was repaired much later by a committee of interested people formed to protect the cabin. The non-profit Monte Wolfe Society was formed by James Linford.
The U.S. Forest service decided in recent years that the cabin should be left to deteriorate and removed the door to hurry the process and prevent people from using the cabin. They emptied the place of everything but the stove. The group has taken legal action against that decision, arguing that the Mountain Man’s place is an historical  artifact like an Indian Ruins and should be preserved.  The group has succeeded thus far in having the door replaced and the chimney pipe hole patched in 2010. That is heart warming progress indeed.
Don DeYoung’s book is still awaiting publication. But, in the meantime, there are several websites about De Young’s extended research, including locating Monte’s grandchildren and learning his real name at the very interesting links below.
http://blogs.esanjoaquin.com/san-joaquin-river-delta/2009/07/28/monte-wolfes-cabin/
http://deyoung.org/MonteWolfe/
http://montewolfe.blogspot.com/
http://www.montewolfe.com/
http://www.recordnet.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20090727/A_NEWS/907270305

Sunday, November 13, 2011

BIASED I AM.


I’ve been accused of being biased and I know it’s true.   I know  two of the cutest kids on the planet and, they are all mine to spoil for another day before I head for home.

Owen spent a day with a friend while Theo stayed close to my elbow explaining how to play plants vs. zombies on a DS, an electronic toy. His parents limit their time on electronic devices, which is a good thing for a parent to do,  but Theo claimed he would like to have enough  time to play to an advanced enough stage where he can earn enough coin (fake coin) t0 buy another version of the game. So, of course, I made sure he had a leisurely day of lying around and playing DS as much as he wanted for a whole day. Ahhh!  It’s so fun to be a grandma.

He did his chores, put the chickens to bed, fed and played with the cats, and we both enjoyed the day.

Then we enjoyed the neighbor’s fire on his driveway, (a curiosity), from  distance.

Friday, May 28, 2010

IVORYTON, CONNECTICUT-MEET THE JAILLETS

We crossed the Connecticut River into a series of historic small towns to reach Ivoryton,  home of my partner's family. The town name came from the major industry in the area,  a factory that imported and made ivory piano keys. Alas, plastic took over, but the crumbling  factory is still standing.

 I may not have explained that my partner, Jim Jaillet, has lived full time in his RV for 15 years and seeing his son's name on a mailbox,  gave him an emotional tug.


 A quick hug with son Jim before he went off to coach little league.
 
 Crowding two grand daughters, Jaimie and Joceylyn, and mom, Wendy into the motor home after school  proved to be a lot of fun.  Nine year old Jaimie tried on gobs of  beads we brought with us from Mardi Gras last February. Joceylyn, at age 15, likes poetry and math. A rare young person who KNOWS that she wants to be a teacher some day.






 Jim has met my family and its nice to finally meet his family. We'll have time to get to know each other over the next week. Its already evident we'll be having a good time. 

Friday, February 13, 2009

SIX INCHES OF WHITE STUFF, SNOWBALL SURPRISE


Where are the grandchildren when the big snow hits? Its a school day, and Owen's 9th birthday today. Happy Birthday Owen!! Wish you were here to see the beauty and have a snowball fight with Grandma. The best I could do is take some pictures. One of six inches of white stuff on Jim's motorhome. He tells me the motorhome has rarely experienced snow. (Check out his blog.) But, its beautiful stuff and I actually went outside and made a snowball and threw it at Jim and he caught it. The trees in the yard look like we live on a different planet. Both of us appreciated the beauty, despite the cold. Besides, what's winter without a bit of white stuff now and then? Of course, I'm glad to see it melt off before I have to get out the shovel. And, I don't live in Avery where Pam Quyle of Quyles Kilns tells me the power has been out for a couple of hours.