Visited my mother and aunt Eleanor today. Caroline and her mom spent part of the afternoon picking fresh tangerines, tangelos, and grapefruit in the backyard. Afterward, we sat down for dinner featuring the leg of lamb Caroline and I had brought back from Brown’s Orchard in Wilcox, Arizona. My mom prepared the lamb along with half a dozen of the artichokes she had received as a gift from a friend in Monterey, California. At home, Jutta and Caroline made juice. All in all, a pleasantly nice slow day, the way Sunday should be.
Bent Reflections
Jutta and Caroline looking into a mirrored glass sculpture after a failed attempt to find the rabbit hole. Later in the day, we found our way into a darkened theatre for a showing of Kabul Express – not your typical Bollywood production. The movie did to our perspective of Afghanistan what the artwork did to the reflection, Kabul Express is worth a look.
Jutta Kommt An
And here she is, Jutta Engelhardt, my mother-in-law on her 5th visit to America. Jutta flew from Frankfurt, Germany to Chicago, Illinois, earlier in the day, only to be overwhelmed by our draconian immigration processes to such an extent that she missed her connecting flight to Arizona. So, after 15 hours in transit, this 71-year-old potential threat to the security of the United States was fingerprinted, photographed, had her bags taken apart on the lookout for god-knows-what, to be finally sent on her way 5 hours later. She arrived in Phoenix by evening instead of the early afternoon – at least America is safe tonight.
Photo Wreckin Sister
This is my long-lost sister Shari and her son, my nephew, Shaun. While I was aiming for a dramatic photo of Shaun and me, my sister snuck her way in wearing this ridiculous pig nose mask. But she’s still cute, in her sisterly kind of way. Shari lives with her husband Neal in the Orange County area while Shaun aims for a career in the culinary arts.
Pain
My uncle Woody in Santa Barbara opted for surgery to alleviate back pain. Leaving the operating table, this morphine pump was waiting for him in his room. I guess it was anticipated he would be in severe pain; the morphine was soon dripping into my uncle’s vein, no questions asked. As the anesthesia began to wear off, the pain started to wear on my uncle and by the next morning, this rather large bottle of industrial-strength pain killer called Morphine was nearly empty. Vicodin did nothing, Percocet in pairs came to the rescue, putting my uncle in a strangely bemused state. The pain remained so strong that I left Santa Barbara on Sunday with him still in the hospital.
60 Years of Marriage
Sixty years ago today, my Uncle Woody (left front) married my Aunt Ann (second from the right) at the All Saints Church in Buffalo, New York, on 205 Esser Avenue. To celebrate this special day their friend Boyd joined my Aunt Jean, cousin Nancy, and Nancy’s children Theresa and Daniel, Caroline, and me to wish them the very best.
We started out with me making breakfast for everyone, and later on, we grilled Ted’s hotdogs for lunch. Daniel brought a pinata, and for the first time in their combined 150-or-so years, my aunt and uncle tried to break open the candy-stuffed pinata. All of us took a whack and had a great laugh.
For dinner, we warmed homemade chicken corn chowder – a summertime favorite in Buffalo. On Sunday morning at Saint Raphael’s Church, the pastor offered a blessing and acknowledged the reaffirmation of their vows, a suggestion by Nancy – we were touched.