Category Archives: family

my Mom’ll sleep better tonite….

Ok, for those of you who’ve been waiting to know whether or not I bought a scooter. I didn’t.

Instead, I bought a totally-granny beachcruiser trike bike. I don’t have it in hand yet because it’s got to be all tricked-out for me (gears, toeclips, etc). Hopefully I’ll have a picture of me with my bike for you in a few weeks–after it’s all put together.

Ironically, it cost more $$ than the used scooter that I was considering buying. But it’s oh-so-much safer. And I can ride on the bikepaths with John and the kids (joy!). And I won’t have to buy a motocycle permit.

I’m already trying to figure out what liberal bumper stickers it’s going to wear. (I’m taking suggestions if you’ve got any for me). And, of course I can still put the baguette and roses in the back because it’s got a groovy basket between the rear wheels! (E is convinced that kids could totally ride in the back basket. She is oh-so-wrong…)

Oh, yes, I can hear you wondering what color it is….RED, of course (did you even have to ask???)
🙂

campin’


rocks
Originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

E&C went camping with Suz&Chris this weekend. They had a great time playing with fire, eating marshmallows, and piling up rocks.

They came home smelling like hot dogs and dirt, with only a few ember holes in their clothes.

Click on the picture above to see more photos of their camping adventures.

it’s a miracle


Two weeks ago Sunday I was sitting in one of the wing-back chairs reading and I casually remarked to John,

“When Toby becomes old and fat someday, I hope she becomes a lap kitty.”

As I said this Toby walked by where I was sitting and stretched–a long lean cat stretch that only this petite little not-even-5-pound kitty can do. She reaches out her front legs and elongates her trunk until you are sure she’s going to snap in two because there’s only a skinny little ribcage w/about a 3″ circumference pulled between front and back paws.

John sort of guffawed, as if to say “Yah, right. Toby’ll never trust anyone’s lap.”

Toby truly lives up to the name “scaredy-cat.” The first months of her life are a mystery, but we do know that our neighbors adopted her from the local shelter when she was about 4 months old. But she didn’t acclimate well to life with two small children and took to living in our garden instead of with her owners. Toby, smaller than most of the bunnies and rats who live in the garden, held her own against the coyotes and hawks until our friend Karen caught her for us. I had tried to catch her myself, but gave up after having my neck shredded a couple of times.

Karen, cat-handler-extraordinaire, bundled Toby in a sweatshirt and brought her to our house. Toby immediately decided that E was the only human she would even allow to come near her and promptly took up ownership of E’s bed.

Since that day 2 years ago Toby has made some strides in becoming more comfortable with our family, but she still rarely tolerates any sort of affection and DOES NOT LIKE BEING HELD. I say this in caps, because if you ever come to our house you’ll remember not to reach over and pick up Toby. It’s oh-so-tempting because she’s barely bigger than a gerbil and has the softest fur ever. But BEWARE THE CUTE KITTY. She’s got fangs (I mean, uh, claws) and she knows how to use them.

So…last Sunday you could’ve knocked me over w/a feather when I was sitting up to the table typing on my laptop and Toby, ever-so-matter-of-factly, stepped off from the table and onto my lap, purring as if she was a teakettle boiling dry, and curling up in a ball. She’s done it several times since then, even just now as I am typing on my laptop at the sewing table in my bedroom. I still can’t figure out if she thinks my lap is attached to me, or if it’s just some type of chair that happens to follow me around everywhere. I can hardly imagine that she’s actually trusting her body to come in close contact with a human, much less a human that isn’t E.

But what I really hope is that she heard my wish two weeks ago and decided that it was time to show me how much she loves it here, and to say thanks for the cozy bed to sleep in and the magic kibble bowl that’s never empty. 🙂

flashback

The other day my Mom handed some xeroxed pages to me, saying she’d been going through the boxes in the garage.

I looked down and saw two articles about cancer of the pancreas. Articles I’d found in my research in the Science Library at UCI. I was 8 months pregnant with C when Dad was diagnosed, and just 3 months away from graduating with a biology degree. Dad has asked me to do some research for him. To find the best treatment because his doctor hadn’t given him much hope.

I’d spent the day poring over medical books. I found one surgeon’s name that kept appearing over and over again. I told Dad I thought his best hope was with this “A.R. Moossa” that was doing a cutting-edge surgery with some promising survival rates. The articles I held in my hands were written by Dr. Moossa. It was a few days later that we learned that Dr. Moossa had recently taken a position in San Diego. And within a few days of that Dad was on his way down for a consultation.

I like the notes I wrote in the margins of the articles. My printing is strong and clear, nothing like the lopsided and illegible chickenscratching that I now produce.

I wrote–
Dad:
I feel very encouraged that your hopes are high. I think that this surgery will be hard–it’s very involved, but it seems to me that it will give you a fighting chance.
I would really like to talk to you after you read these articles to see how you feel about the surgery. Also, I’ll be happy to answer any questions (if I can!). I am praying very hard that you can find the best surgeon or treatment.
No matter what the future holds, I will always be thankful to you for being such a great Dad & I feel peace in knowing that we have a forever family.
I love you Dad.
Jana

I never met Dr. Moossa. Because of my high-risk pregnancy, I didn’t dare travel far from Irvine. But Dad and Mom stopped by my place as they were driving down I-405 to SD. Dad had the surgery. He was still receovering on the night that I gave birth. I called him and he talked me through the contractions, sangs songs with me, and gave me a father’s blessing over the phone.

Two of my strongest memories: Dad holding C–his first grandchild–for the first time. A few weeks later, me holding C cradled in the crook of one arm, and grasping Dad’s hand with the other. Watching both of them breathing. C’s barely audible breath sweet against my cheek. Dad choking, gasping for air. During a long lonely night.

Sunday afternoon with E

John is at a conference today (AAR), and C is at a school meeting this afternoon. So it’s just us girls knocking around the house.

What we’ve done so far:
–ate edamame and girl scout cookies for lunch
–tried E’s mood ring on my fingers, my tongue and my toes (FYI, my toes were in an envious mood, just in case you were wondering)
–retreated to our rooms for an hour or so of quiet reading time
–had a chevre and cracker snack
–brought out the oil pastels for an art project
–got cozy in PJs and handknit socks
–talked about cats, art, warm & cool colors, church, brothers, washing dishes, etc.

7 reasons to love Aunt Suz’s house


1) She has good candy (like reese’s pieces and belly flops)
2) She has a big fat soft man-kitty who leaps up onto my lap and purrs madly
2.5) and an awesome furperson w/dog breath named Pete
3) She cooks good things like beer-can chicken and rice krispy treats
4) She has a trampoline and the world’s best backyard that-is-really-the-side-of-mountain (complete w/2 greenhouses, meandering paths, and a den of skunks) that I’ve ever experienced.
5) She loves my kids
6) The free food lady that lives next door. This neighbor has some mysterious job w/a non-profit organization where she gets tons of donated food–more than the shelter can use–so it gets passed around my family. We came home with all the fixins for some awesome Remy nachos and enough mangoes for shakes all week long…
7) She has Chris around. And he’s just about as cool as Suz is.

a saccharine experience


This afternoon our family took in a movie at the headquarters of Trinity Broadcast Network. It’s one of those things we’ve been intending to do for the last few years, every time we drive by their very ostentatious facility off the 405.

We timed out visit so we could see an hour-long movie about the apostle Paul in their “Virtual Reality Theater” (VRT). They warned us ahead of time not to be scared when our seats shook–that it was all a part of the ‘experience.’

Well, the VRT was loud, but not as loud as John was. Poor John had eaten a large bag of sugar-free gummy bears earlier in the afternoon. He didn’t know that you are only supposed to eat sugar-free, saccharine-sweetened gummies in moderation, because they can upset your stomach. Well, in John’s case it not only upset his stomach, but it turned his stomach into a growling beast. A louder-than-the-earthquake-when-Paul-gets-set-free-from-prison (and converts his guard,the guard’s wife, and sweet-faced children to Christianity) kind of growling beast.

Ok, I can’t say much more because John’s going to write the definitive post on the TBN experience. Let me just say that if you’re planning to tour this place for yourself, eat lots of very sugary gummies beforehand (not the sugar free kind). Or, perhaps you may lose the desire for gummies altogether after you’ve perused the adjacent Gold, Frankinsence & Myrrh giftshop and found books like these to inspire you.