Nothing Says It Like A Camera Phone

"We Wish You A Merry Christmas!"

Things have changed significantly since I was little, and nothing speaks to this more than a roomful of camera phones.

We had all dutifully filed into the church sanctuary, loaded up with our own phone cameras ready to click away. It was the preschool Christmas program, and the children were clean, scrubbed and shiningly ready for their debut. They knew the songs, of course, having rehearsed for absolute ages, and had all been properly coached as to correct performance behavior. Everybody hoped no one would be sick.

The 3 year old with black/white stripes

They came in from the side, singing, single file, moving en masse to the front of the church looking shy in front of all these strangers. At least, almost everyone out there was a stranger. The children peered into the audience, looking for familiar faces. Mummy, Daddy. Grandma and Grandpa. Brother. Sister. And so on.  Once  they identified these, they lit up like that nearby Christmas tree, smiling and waving, calling out. They were, after all, 3 through 5 year olds. And anything can happen at a Christmas program.

But - we almost couldn't see it! The first song began, but there were so many loved ones angling cameras and phones that no mere mortal would ever be able to find, focus, and click accurately. There were only the backs of heads. 

We all did our best not to be rude, or get into the way of those behind us. It was rather like the waves of the sea, first left, then right, a brief and wild snap in the general direction of all that cuteness on the stage.

I felt sorry for everyone. But then again, not really sorry, because everyone was so happy. It was Christmastime. The kids were eager to please, shining in their musical debut more sweetly than any Broadway actor ever could. 

And who even needs Broadway, when you have such enchanting small people to entertain you so beautifully?

I, for one, don't.


See you along the way!
the SconeLady

What You Can Do With 60 Miles

It was almost a 60 mile drive, and every one of those miles was filled with information. In fact, overflowing! Grandma sat in the very back next to the 7 year old, who had stored up all kinds of things to share along the journey. 

"Grandma, what if I could modify my dad's car and make it to fly? With a propellor on the top, and a jet engine at the back!"

This was a poser, to which I had no ready answer. But it turned out that there didn't need to be an answer. All Grandma needed was to be listening.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/14284621@N06/5939956500/

"He could flip a switch whenever the freeway was crowded and his car would rise up right  there, and get above the rest of the cars, and then he would flip another switch and the after burner would take him to work in less than a minute! Wouldn't he like that?"

"Oh, yes!" I quickly interjected that I hoped he could make Grandma one like that, too.

"And what if I invented that you could go to Mars whenever you wanted to? Do we go to Mars yet? I thought we did. Well we should be in Mars. I can't imagine a world where no one goes there."

I heartily agreed, thinking that going to Mars might solve a lot of problems for a lot of people. For instance it would help people who have made a mess of things down here, because it would take them such a long time for them to get up there; and then when they did get up there it would take even longer for them to mess things up up there. It would be a win-win.

"And what if we were in a space ship and fell asleep for months and months. I wouldn't be at all afraid. Would you be afraid, Grandma?"

I admitted that yes, I would be at least a bit afraid. "Well, I wouldn't be because I would be brave and wouldn't notice anything because I would be asleep."

We went on like this for the 60 miles until we suddenly saw the sea, out ahead. "There it is!" he said with excitement, looking out for his uncle's car. The entire adventure was out there, and he was ready for it. There was always adventure when his uncle showed up.

And so everyone lived the adventure - the eating, the sandcastles, the surfing, the digging in sand, the dinner at Bruce's, the birthday cupcakes, and the amazing calypso drums. It was all care free, just exactly what a kid wants in this life. Not to mention the grownups - all of whom enjoyed it just as much.

But it was time to climb back into the van, and Grandma climbed in next to the 7 year old. As the van pulled out onto the highway, Mother (from up in the front seat) heard the boy telling Grandma something about Calvin and Hobbes.

"Ok," she said, "The little ones need to sleep now. You can tell Grandma one more thing, and then - quiet please."

But I was getting interested in the next scenario, and so we whispered about it for a few minutes more. "And Calvin told Hobbes to stay in the bedroom while he.."

And then, it was suddenly quiet. I glanced over and saw that his head was drooped and lay resting against the window. It was as if a light switch had gone off. And he slept.

But Grandma didn't. She felt super lucky to get to be the one who heard all of his ideas. They were pretty good ones, too. And all the inventions? She figured he'd probably carry it off, in the end. She hoped to be around when he did.

See you along the way!
the SconeLady


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Bolsa Chica State Park, CA

It was, they said, surfing almost at its best.

The waves were already substantial looking, but did they care? Were they worried? Of course not. Surfers never seem to be. Their mothers, however, reserve that right.

It was a birthday celebration for the rather stunning son, much anticipated and planned for, although delayed a couple of times. But yesterday it happened, in the way he most wished for it to happen. Turning a year older along with loved ones at a surfing beach? the BEST! 

The children knew the drill. Out they popped from the van, and on went their sandals, jackets and flip flops (I believe a pair of cowboy boots were left in the van).  Sand toys appeared like magic from Mother's bag somewhere, and the play began. There were drinks and sandwiches, chips and grapes, and I am told there was popcorn and chocolate mixed up together in a bag. Frequent tastes of this delicious concoction were made, in between sand castles.

The two surfers disappeared into the waves, and the rest of us watched closely until we could hardly see the two tiny heads bobbing around.  It was tough getting out past the break, but this they finally accomplished as we all stood watch.

When they at last came back to us and everyone was made presentable, into town we all trooped for dinner. The food was terrifically prepared for us by Dukes at Manhattan Beach. And as always there were thoughtful and lively discussions throughout the meal. 

But the evening wasn't over yet! We all:

• had homemade cupcakes outside near the waves
• sang happy birthday to the favored uncle
• danced and laughed and clapped along with an amazing group of calypso drummers
• walked down the Manhattan Beach Pier, strolling at a leisurely pace and discussing fish size with local fishermen
• reluctantly parted, when all was accomplished

It was time to go, and after bidding a fond farewell to the favored uncle, three children were very soon sleeping soundly in their car seats.

It was a calm and peaceful drive home.

What a delight it is to celebrate life with such wonderfully beautiful young people. With their children who are well loved and who love right back, no holds barred. Where everyone wants to be together and can't wait for the next time.

"Grandma?" a sleepy voice whispered.

"Yes, my darling.."

"Can't you spend the night all night with us?"

"Well, no, I need to go to my home to sleep. But maybe someday," Grandma said.

She sat in the very back of the van amongst the sleeping blond heads, and thought about the absolute fullness of her life. There was certainly nothing 'half empty' about it.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady

The Radcliffe Camera, Oxford

Oxford is, and will always be, an enviable combination of beauty and Intellect. And, a place you will always be sure to find a good bowl of soup!

Wandering around all those towers and spires is hungry work, and at about mid-day, one simply must find sustenance. A bowl of Carrot Ginger soup is just the ticket, and I enjoyed one on this warm September afternoon. 

The University Church of St Mary the Virgin is a very good spot for sustenance. Not to mention crowds of young people talking and eating as if there were no tomorrow. And why would people be eating at St Mary's church? you might ask. Well, they are eating there because  St Mary's has a smashing cafe where they make their own bread and soup and salads and everything FROM SCRATCH. If you happen to stroll past the church around lunchtime you will encounter the most amazing aromas. And you will really not be able to resist.

The SconeLady finds sustenance

The Radcliffe Camera, Oxford

https://www.flickr.com/photos/harshilshah/2435211026/

The cafe at St Mary's is simply crammed with people. People in line, people requesting food, people pouring water into their glasses, people carrying their trays to minuscule tables to sit with strangers, and people (most notably) serving all of this humanity - with grace. St Mary's is a grace-full place.

Inside the church, if you look closely you will find the picture of the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, one of the 'Oxford Martyrs'. I have written about Mr. Cranmer before in this space but I am too sleepy to find the post and ascertain whether I am now repeating my own self. But that doesn't really matter, because hearing of Cranmer, and Hugh Latimer, and Nicholas Ridley is always worth a bit of a repeat.

Unwilling to deny their faith, the three were indeed burned alive (horrid thought) on Broad Street, at the behest of Queen Mary (Cranmer was martyred 5 months after the others). Their trial had taken place inside St Mary's church, and you can see where part of a pillar was cut away in order to place the stage upon which they stood to answer their accusers. The church today, as you walk in, is quiet and humble, and even sacred in its attitude. Visitors are invited to enter, and if you are there to participate in a church service, you are verbally welcomed and made to feel so. This same sweetness sifts on over into the cafe, where the servers offer that same sort of kindness. I loved it.

And so, there I sat, outside of the University Church of St Mary the Virgin, eating my bowl of Carrot and Ginger soup. I sat looking toward the Radcliffe Camera. It is spectacular when you are near it; even more so if you climb the high tower to the top of the church. There you will see it, and Brasenose College, All Soul's College, the Bodleian Library, the Sheldonian Theatre, and the Divinity School. To be in proximity to so many Treasures is to be incredibly blessed, and beyond. Just writing about it makes me have itchy feet, again! Oh dear.

Really, Readers - you must go.

See you along the way!

the SchoneLady

photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/harshilshah/2435211026/">Harshil.Shah</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/">cc</a>

The Very Best In Small Town Diners (2)

Previously..

The SconeLady's husband walked from the truck to where I stood at the corner. He had come in answer to my enthusiastic call about a cafe I had never seen before. And they were open for breakfast! 'Open for breakfast' has such a nice ring to it, don't you think? One can always smell the pancakes and sausage sizzling away in there even before walking through the door. I had, and longed to go in.

So in we walked. Kevin's Cafe looked good at first glance. And was that french toast that we smelled? We grabbed a booth, keeping an eye out for a waitress in hopes of some coffee. We finally saw her, but realized she was the only one. Hmm. It could be a while. To bide our time, we sat watching the cook pouring out and flipping the pancakes, sifting through the orders as they piled up. We knew that our three would just love sitting on those cafe stools, watching that guy cooking (they would probably want to 'help').

I hoped the place would have a kindly and meddlesome proprietor, quick and witty, with bits of wisdom flying in all directions as she worked. But you know, it didn't really turn out to be anything like The D and F Cafe. I shouldn't have expected it, but ever since Fairie closed its doors all those decades ago, nothing else has quite lived up to that one-of-a-kind spot. It will just have to live on in our memories.

Later, while flipping through an old H.S. yearbook I came across a treasure - a photo of Dale and Fairie in the D and F!

Don't they look terrific? They had sponsored our yearbook, therefore getting their picture in the back section of it. I checked all my yearbooks and, sure enough, there they were in all of them. It was an Institution, one that we all just took for granted would always be there. I believe several cafes have tried moving in and making a go of it, but nothing ever 'took'. They always closed not long after opening. So the place stands empty. 

Whenever we visit, one of our first stops is to Main Street, where the Delph's Meat Market had been, where the town Library still was, and where Dale and Fairie used to hold forth day after day. Knowing everyone who walked through their door, and welcoming them all like Family.

I still haven't figured out one thing, though - do any of you know what those two bottles are that Dale is resting his beefy arm on? I'd like to know.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady

The Nicest Twitterer

I haven't worked it out yet, but for some reason Josh Groban is the only person on my Twitter feed. At least - I think he is. Someone helped me to know how to sign up for a Twitter feed, and then suggested that I follow Josh Groban. So I did sign up, did 'follow' the singer, and that's about as far as Twitter went, in my life. 

Josh Groban

https://www.flickr.com/photos/madaroni/4963752407/

I haven't looked at it in over two years.

But every once in a while I do receive a message about something Mr. Groban has tweeted about. I hear the little beep, which signals me when a message comes in, and then I delete it, and that is pretty much that. I know, it's lame. I should at least figure out how to be a better follower, or how to check up on what other celebrities are thinking about at any given moment. But somehow, I haven't managed to work up the interest.

I am told that even our President has a Twitter account. That he 'tweets' out whenever he has a comment to share with the world. That he actually stole the 'twitter record' from Justin Bieber, but that Justin Bieber was fine with it. But as I said, I missed all of this excitement. When I did hear about it I was shocked that the President and Justin Bieber could actually be mentioned in the same paragraph of a news article. What's this world coming to.

So about a week ago I was out walking when the beep went off and a tweet alerted me that Josh had just favorited a tweet by Roger Federer that Roger Federer had just met someone on the plane to Delhi. I wasn't sure who, but they were both in First Class. So I deleted it, but it did remind me that it is the month of December and high time I listened to one of the best Christmas albums ever. Josh Groban's 'Noel' is just that. Click here, and you will be delighted, and moved, and sent scurrying to iTunes or Walmart to get the whole CD! I am listening to it right now and fully plan to sit back, next to the lovely Christmas tree, and soak it all completely in.

So I don't really mind that Josh Groban tweeted me. In fact, I am glad he did. Maybe I'll tweet him back, if I can figure out how. He is probably one of the nicest tweeters Twitter has on their Twit-List. 

Or whatever it is that they call it.

Josh Groban in concert

https://www.flickr.com/photos/rogerzmusic/5834613509/

See you along the way!
the SconeLady


photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/madaroni/4963752407/">madelinewright</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/">cc</a>

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Waiting (2)

Somewhere north almost a thousand miles from here, a family is preparing to say goodbye to someone wonderful. Our phone had rung and the words, "Your aunt is in Heaven now," held us speechless as we sat listening. We had been awaiting News ever since the word 'Stroke' had stopped us in our own tracks. 

Did I say she is wonderful? It is true! I think of Vera with a perpetual smile on her face. She never met a person she did not like, and welcomed any and all upcoming new spouses into the family immediately. I was one of these, gathered into a huge hug at our first meeting. Smiling and hugging - that has always been Vera. Oh - and laughing, always laughing.

You saw this quality also in her children, my husband's cousins. It was largely due to Vera's sweetness that her closest loved ones adopted this same broad acceptance. It sort of leaked on down, from her. Her family gatherings have always been filled with jolly people - from tiny babies to toddlers, to young and healthy teens running around everywhere, to parents young and older, not to mention the friends everybody had. Those, too, were welcomed.

And so they, and we, say our farewells. Someone mentioned kindly, "She is gone, but not forgotten..", which is utterly true. No one could forget Vera, who was everything a person would wish to remember. Recently her family gathered around her, holding her hands as the gentle Hospice ladies ministered. Reaching for a single word that could describe her, a loved one said, "Unconditional. That is what she was. Perfectly and thoroughly Unconditional."

We love you, Aunt Vera. This Farewell is not forever.