Gratitude Journal: Daily Walks

For years now, my favorite place to go for a walk is Colonial Park.  Its gardens, its roses and flowers, its expansive sky, and its woods have long been a place I visit to refresh my spirit and soul.  I missed walking there in the Fall and Winter, when my hip was too painful for any of my usual wanderings, let alone a long walk in the park.   

My sister knew this and during the post-surgery week that KO came to look after me, she drove me to Colonial Park.  I walked a familiar sunny path with my walker and still recall the feeling of hope that filled my heart:  my visits to this happy place could resume. 

The very first day when I could drive myself, I went to the park.  This Spring, I’ve gone for a walk at the park as often as I can.   I never tire of the expansive views and the spiritual salve this place brings me. That I can now walk as long as I like without pain still feels like a miracle and I feel so much gratitude to have this place back.  It’s one I never tire of experiencing.

Sister Act

Today is my sister’s birthday.  I’m the oldest and when we were little girls, she used to threaten that one day she would be older.  I like to think that I was gracious about this - confident that time and space were on my side - but we’ll need KO to confirm that.  As adults, I joke that there was a screw up in the birth order continuum, because she’s the level-headed family general and we march to her orders.  That’s fine by me: she’s smart and funny, sensible and loyal and when my hip went suddenly south in August, she was unfailingly the solid rock that I needed. She put up with endless whiny texts and phone calls and was supportive and sympathetic, whatever the circumstances required.  The harder things got, the more she stepped up.  It is no exaggeration to say that I wouldn’t have made it this far into the journey without her good cheer and good sense.  Before I could summon the courage to ask, she volunteered to come East and look after me post-surgery.  That right there is KO in a nutshell: she knows what you need and she will get it done.  She is the very best sister a woman could ask for and I love her beyond measure.  

Happy Birthday, KO!

October 1: The Hopeful Dieffenbachia

In 2019, my sister gave me plant-a-month birthday present.  For 6 months, tiny houseplants were delivered to my door  It was delightful and this  dieffenbachia was one of those plants.  

It’s grown quite a bit since then - this it it’s third pot - and for Halloween it has a black cat plant stake.  By the end of this month, overnight temperatures will be cool enough that plants must come inside for the season.  But we’re not there yet and both the dieffenbachia and I are determined to soak up the last of the warmth.

Real Life Texts with KO: Moving House edition

The backstory: My sister and her husband have sold their house and are moving into a temporary residence while their new home is built.  That meant that last Wednesday they loaded up 18 years worth of life well-lived.  I texted her early in the morning to wish her good luck.  I heard back from her at 8:45 am California time.

KO:  I’ve already had my fill of moving.  Ready to tap out.

Me:  Hmmmm.  If the van is emptied, you may tap out for now.

KO:  Van is not emptied and also I think your standards are unreasonable.

Me: Well we can debate my standards after the van is emptied.

KO: God damn no flexibility on your part.

Me:  Well that seems harsh.  But true, as it turns out.

KO:  I wanted to tell up to fuck off so I thought my sentiment was a nice compromise.

Me:  Oh yeah, great work on the compromise.  Sorry about the day.  Treat yourself to tacos for lunch.

The move is complete and KO is celebrating a birthday weekend.  She’s one of the funniest and most determined people I know, a woman who gets up and does what needs doing, takes a nap, and then gets after it again.  Embrace the day, birthday girl, and know you are loved.

For the Birthday Girl

Today is my sister’s birthday.  Her card may arrive in her mailbox on time but her gifts will arrive a bit late.  She’s a talented gift-giver herself, and I think I got things right, even if I didn't get them there on time.

My sister and I are just three years apart and one of my earliest memories is standing in the kitchen of our house talking on the phone with my dad who called from the hospital to share the news that I had a little sister.  It was exciting at the time and she was only a few hours old.  Today, on her birthday, it’s worth noting that KO’s arrival always brings a burst of energy and enthusiasm.  She’s a celebration in human form.  

She’s funny, smart, and beautiful  (the photo above was made at JT’s graduation and if she wasn’t my sister I’d hate her for the fact that she never takes a bad photo).  She’s also loyal and kind-hearted, with the sort of sound judgment and perspective that ensures even the worst days feel manageable.

I always joke that there was a fuck-up in the birth order continuum and that I have no business being the older sister in our family.  When we were little, KO used to vow that she would one day be older than me.  These days, I’m over 50 so she gets the last laugh on that front.  I may be older but is she who sets the example for being in this world.   Happy Birthday, KO!

Happy Birthday, KO!

It’s my sister’s birthday today.  She’s a rock in my family, the person whom you can always depend on, and whose sense of humor never fails to amuse me.  She’s an outspoken liberal, who lives in a town that doesn’t always enjoy outspoken liberals.  But that doesn’t stop KO and I love that about her.  

I was the sort of tiresome sister who bragged about being older when we were kids.  But these days, KO gets that last laugh; my little sister is tall, beautiful,  smart, and younger than me.  She wins, and not just because she filched money from the Monopoly game.  KO reports that her birthday card and present have already been delivered to her corner of California.   But I was thinking of here when I made a few earlier this week.  

Happy, happy birthday, KO! The world is a much better place because you are here.

A Birthday Wish

Today is my sister’s birthday.  I’ve surprisingly few recent photos of her, given that she loves to have her picture made (and, fittingly, is the most photogenic person I know).    Instead, I offer a memory from our childhood.

KO is my younger sister and, as such, fell victim to my idea of fun.  I loved to play with dolls and can remember endless weekends of pretending as if our bedrooms were apartments where we were raising girl baby dolls.  In hindsight, for apparently single moms living in small places, we had surprisingly large families.  These days, we live on separate coasts and we are moms, with surprisingly large boy children.  It is one of the greatest pleasures of my adult life that these three boys like one another so much.  I like to think of it as the lucky consequence of the fact that I have the best sister ever.

Happy Birthday, KO!

Zinnia Season

It's August, and that means that the fresh-cut zinnia season is fully upon us.

The bouquet on the right is made in a milk bottle from Rosa Brothers Dairy, a Hanford, California, dairy that didn't get its deposit back on this bottle.  My sister gave it to me when I was in California because she knows how I like that sort of thing.  That's happy!

Crusty

After yesterday's post, my sister texted me with a reminder that a cookie-based crust for an icebox pie can also be be made by hand.  She's right.  The process is pretty easy, though in some instances I think the crust is more solid if it's baked, a consideration for me in the summer.  For those of you who object to pre-made crusts (hi, KO), here are a few crust recipes that are more of the handmade variety (they use packaged cookies, so they aren't completely homemade).

For a chocolate crust made with Oreos, you can crush a couple rows of cookies (you want about 2 cups worth) and then mix the crushed mixture with 1/4 cup of melted butter.  Press it into your pie pan or casserole dish and then fill it with the ice cream of your choice.

For a graham cracker, vanilla wafer, or gingersnap crust, crush enough cookies for two cups worth of finely crumbed cookies.  Mix with 1/4 cup of melted butter, press into the pie pan or casserole dish and bake at 350 degrees (325 if your oven runs to the hot) for about 5 minutes (the goal is a toasted crust….you may need a few more minutes; keep on eye on this process).  Let the crust cool and then fill accordingly. 

However you make it, I think we can all agree: make an icebox pie this month.

Real Life Conversations with KO: I Wanna Be Sedated edition

The backstory: My little sister does not enjoy flying.  Despite this, she's proposed flying east to celebrate my birthday in a few weeks.  She'll be on her own, flying red eye.  I was thrilled with the idea, though aware that she doesn't enjoy flying.  Thus the following conversation:

KO:  So I"m flying out there for your birthday.  You should think of some fun things we can do. 

Me:  Flying, huh?  You should get some Vitamin X (that's what I call Xanax) from Mom (our Mom also hates flying).

KO:  I don't need hers, I've got some of my own.

Me:  Damn.  Bring that.  Now our weekend plans are set.

Reality check:  We're neither of us big drinkers or users of narcotics, legal or otherwise.  So we'll be finding something else to do.  And I'm way, way excited at the prospect of KO in town to help count my gray hairs.

January 12, 1971

One of my very first memories is from the day she was born. I'm three years old, standing in the kitchen in the house on Pico Street, holding the phone to my ear. My father tells me that my mom had the baby and it's a girl. I'm very excited. And when he also reports that she has curly hair, I'm instantly envious.

The day that the new baby came home from the hospital, family lore has it that I'm so excited to see her that I throw up. It's hardly a good welcome to the world. And it doesn't nearly express how I've felt about my little sister, whom I loved and admired instantly.

As long as I can remember, she's been my buddy and companion. Although I'm the older sister, she's the one who always has looked after me. When I wanted to play school all weekend long, she was a willing student. When I was afraid to ask for something that I wanted, she would boldly take charge. When a bully picked on me in the fifth grade, she defended me. We're grown ups now, no longer "the girls." But she's as firmly in my corner as she ever was, perhaps more so.

When things go badly for me, I turn to her and I know that she'll have the answers. She makes me laugh more than any other person I know. As a fellow parent and teacher, I admire the sensibility she brings to both of those worlds. She's my realist-at-large and I admire her so much that I've forgiven her for her impressive height, the effortless way she looks good in anything she wears, her curly hair, and her knack for being the most photogenic person on the planet.

She's turning 37 today and I want her to know that I'm as proud to be her sister today as I was that day not so long ago when she was born.

Happy Birthday KO.

Real Life Conversations with the Sassafras Sister

KO: I am bummed because these shoes I ordered from Talbots aren't coming in.

Me: What do they look like?

KO: I am hesitant to tell you.

Me: Okay.............maybe try Zappos? They have lots of shoes and you can search by brand.

KO: Yeah. But I want to search by animal print. Can you search by animal print on Zappos?

Me: Oh boy.

Note to shoe shoppers: Yes, as it turns out you can search by animal print at Zappos. Yet another reason that America is either a great country or going down the tubes, depending on your point of view.

Sassafras Sister

My sister KO lives in California and while I was slacking about off from work on Thursday, she was busily educating America's youth. Or doing something. She sent me this e-mail about her Thursday and is now my first official guest-blogger:

Potluck today at work. Made the tri tip last night (overnight), seasoned with a red wine sauce, shredded it all up. So yummy. Brought the crock pot to work and while getting it out of the car, the cord got stuck under the seat. My hands kept moving...crock pot stayed still...until there was shattered crock pot and 5 pounds of tri tip all over the pavement. I laughed. Except that it was kind of the main
dish for the potluck, so I was most worried about what to feed the department. I got dad to go buy more meat and BBQ it for me, but what a way to start my day.

Then during my prep I took three girls with me to do some stuff for winter
formal. We found a lost dog out on Nees Ave., so we spent a good 20
minutes returning the dog to it's rightful home (success), but it just
wasn't how I needed to spend my time, you know what I'm saying? Except
that I can't just leave a dog out on a busy street. and when I called the
guy on his cell phone (thank goodness for awesome tags--address, home phone
and cell phone), he was so thankful and happy. And the gate that was open
was by the kids' playset, so there was kind of lots of joy in knowing that
we prevented some crappy moments at home for a family (if something would
have happened to the dog). But oh vey.

Note: Tri tip is a cut of meat (beef) that seems to only be available in California. It's one of those crazy Cali things that I miss here on the right coast. And, yes, KO has earned herself some good karma on this day. The picture is KO and her younger son Spence, taken at Disneyland this summer.