One More Box

Mom and Dad moved the last of their stuff into the Monroe house recently.  While I haven't seen how that is going on their end, the fall-out has been some mid-day deliveries of chairs (the green Papa chair) and rugs at my house.  So I picture it's going great.

Before they left town for Adventure Round 2, we celebrated Seattle's Restaurant week- Price Fixe at restaurants we normally don't have occasion to frequent.  It was a nice chance to catch up before they are gone for a month or something, and to trade a few things.  They brought Nana (to spend the night and convert my garden to a thing of weedless beauty), and "another box of things. Maybe from Nana's?" Now, I am happy to be the only one not downsizing a house, but there has been no small number of boxes of tchotckes that were never worth the effort to ship, and I really thought we had weeded all those out.

Nana and I sat down for a cup of tea last night to see if either of us could figure out if there was anything of value in the box.  Turns out- Bonanza!

This was the box with the last few missing things.  Nana's recipe box has been AWOL since the move.  It was in the box.(!!)  Papa's nearly exotic fleece barret.  In the box.  Classic children's books, a 1950s cookbook and some VHS labeled 1989 Preecs Children.  Papa's Right of Way Association Plaques. His Boy Scout (leader) award. Awesome.

But most of the box was pictures.  All manner of pictures.  Pictures from the last few decades of domestic and foreign travel.  Nana's high school graduation photo.  Her Kiwanis Award (for service). Grammie Jean's baby book (not aging as well as she did). Papa's 65th high school reunion photo.  There is no shortage of cool stuff and rainy afternoons in that box. Next time I make noise about "nothing to blog about" remind me to pull some stuff from the box and start collecting stories.

Before I really get started on it though, I wanted to share this little gem of a newspaper clipping. (Transcript follows for future search ability.) I would love if someone could fill in the ~30 year time gap between the estimated date of the clipping and the postmark.

[ To Talk of Many Things . . . . --By D.H.P.
I have been deeply moved by an act of innate honesty of my fellow man . . . . at all times of course, most of us are careful with out money for the needs it must supply . . . but at Christmas time with this business of gift exchanging, it becomes of particular importance . . . last week a lad of small fry age was entrusted with a sum of money . . . . and somehow lost a bill of large denomination from his pocket . . . . it was a tragic occurrence, so much so that he was plunged into deepest despair because he felt he had ruined Christmas for his family . . . the following evening a little ad appeared in the daily newspaper that "folding money" had been found . . . . On inquiry it was determined that from the spot it was found and being in the amount of the sum lost, it could be no other than the small fry's bill . . . every offer of recompense was refused . . . . the finder of the bill was glad it could be returned to its owner . . . . I think that is a wonderful thing . . . . that a man would find a piece of paper money in the snow and advertise to locate the rightful owner. . . . and at the holiday season time too, when everyone can use a little extra coin of the realm . . . . and truly Mr. William B. Preecs of Pacific Northern Airlines, who must be possessed of the pure meaning of the Christmas Spirit may enjoy his holiday knowing he has lightened a heavy burden from a little boy at Christmas time.]

[Enveloped post marked Baltimore MD 212 12 Nov 1986 from the Thunder Hill Rd House to the Everett House] 

These are family heirlooms

Nana and I have been springing around Spokane, having all kinds of grand adventures.  Today we checked out a Raku firing workshop, hanging around potters all day was a nice warm up to going to see the Prohibition era Perfectly Modern Millie, full of great dancing and Fabulous Costumes- such fun!

But in between adventures, Nana unearthed a folder of letters she had written to her mother during their time in Alaska.  Yup, onion skin, type writer pages, that her Mom thoughtfully dated for when they became family heirlooms. (Guess thoughtful mothering runs in the family!)  We are bringing it to share with Dad and Bart on our mini family reunion- well surprise them, I hope.  If I can get their permission (their childhood antics being the main feature of the letters), I might try and copy some highlights to the blog.  There are some fantastic Papa stories, early pioneer adventures and childhood shenanigans never previously discussed.

The adventure continues in Seattle at 0'dark thirty tomorrow, so I'm off to bed.  Just needed to brag a little more about how much fun Nana and I are having.

Something for Papa

I don't think Papa was ever much of a NY Yankees fan, but I have a feeling he'd enjoy this article about Yogi Berra and Ron Guidry, which I believe is on the front page of the NY paper this morning.

If you're interested at all, be sure to skim down far enough to see what Yogi has to say about Guidry's home town.

Exciting archival package!

In tidying up her house, Nana told me that she unearthed a ledger she kept as a newlywed of the household expenses. She said later it was too tedious to keep- but she maintained it fastidiously form 1942-1949. Rather than pitch it, she mailed it to me, and I've had the great joy of leafing through it.

Of course I am shocked by the price of things- in 1944, they spent $4.75 every month for moorage- that is RENT people! And Tuition, at the UW, cost $44/ semester. But I am also impressed by how carefully Nana kept this ledger. There are notes in it for $0.25, mouthwash, $0.30, shoeshine. I probably can't claim to be a newlywed myself anymore- but I don't have nearly this handle on the cash flow of our household.

There are some mysteries too. In 1944, there is an entry for Puppy, and then later dog food- but only a few month. What puppy? And for a while, there were entries for cigarettes, and then abruptly not. Why did Papa quit?

There is also the paper trail of real life too. In 1946, there is a huge sum to a Frieght company, and then the household expenses include paying A L&P (Alask Light and Power- same as in Juneau today). The 'College Expenses' Chapter is relegated to the back to make way for a 'Baby' Chapter. There are some chapters that Papa maintained in his neat handwriting, like Household Maintenance. And the chapter on recreation denotes all the shows, ballets and ball games, and even the ferry trips and vacations of most of a decade.

After some more investigation- I'll share anything else cool I find. In the meantime, I'll take care of this in case anyone else wants to see it someday.

Wednesday Waffles

Since Noel is going to be on blogging hiatus, I am obviously going to smash him on overall blogging numbers by the time he gets back. I relish it, especially since I am working on my writing a bit more these days as well. I am trying to develop a "writing portfolio." I say this with giant air quotes, as some of our readership has an Actual Portfolio, for the purpose of benefiting their Actual Writing Career. Of course, I don't have one of those, but I would like to be in a position in the future to show a future employer that I am capable of communicating to a wide audience, and having more than one published piece would go a long way to making me seem literate.

Currently, I am working on a piece for the University's Teaching Times, about a grant that some post-docs I work with are involved in. This is a bit challenging, because the Teaching Times has a very Go Pitt! attitude, and the nature of the grant is to benefit the career of these post-docs once they move beyond this institution. I am trying to find a non-smarmy way to play up the Pitt connection to make it a better fit for this publication. It still needs work. It's on my mind though, because Wednesday is the day I go to the waffle shop with a couple co-workers and work on our particular writing projects.

While I was in Spokane, Matt did a nice job hosting our visitors. Bleary-eyed me made an effort to act like a hostess when I arrived, but Matt had already done all the hard work, and the family seemed reluctant to leave. What can I say, Pittsburgh's appeal is in it's diversity, familiarity, opportunity and optimism, and that it isn't the Bronx. Matt did a nice job playing host, while juggling a range of emotional phone calls from his wife.

Getting back to work has been tough. I was pretty upset when I left work last week, so I didn't leave myself any notes about what I was working on- but I've mostly pieced that back together. Since I was upset when I left, all of my sweet coworkers having been asking me how the trip was, and well... there isn't a good answer for that. All told, I would prefer not to go to anymore funerals. But if you've gotta go, you can only hope your family will assemble from far and wide to trade stories and laugh and hug and try to remember how much you enjoyed life.

It seems inappropriate to say it was a nice time, but I do love seeing my family. But that glosses over the fact that I am still very sad, even though I really hate crying at work. Getting the chance to celebrate all the wonderful things Papa did in his life makes me anxious to get started with mine- so I am trying to use the restless energy to propel myself past the moping stage.

I’ll be over here, not blogging

So apologies in advance. I’ve got all this cool stuff. I got all the audio from a whole bunch of papa stories, including a whole bunch about his bike trip across the country, and even a few bonus Nana stories. Also, lots of pictures from the funeral and associated family gathering. Unfortunately, I’m not going to be able to do much with them for the last, lets say month. I’ve got to travel again soon, and then there’s three weeks in Europe (awesome!) It just means I’m not going to be able to do a whole lot of extra stuff for a while. I’ll try to get the pictures up where people can see them, but I’m not going to be able to play around with the audio or do much other writing. So, sorry for that, but EUROPE!

Back in Austin after a weekend away. The cats are VERY EXCITED to see us. I’ve nearly tripped over Nagano several times in the morning. He’s cute, but a little underfoot, sometimes. Jess has got a hockey game tonight and I’m going to attend for extra support. Rumor has it that if there are any guys out there that try to push my lady around, I may be called in to beat them up for her. Fingers crossed!

It was really nice to see everyone this weekend, even if the occasion was quite sad. Sandlin, Jess and I got to have a ‘wake’ with the cousins. Which is to say we went to a bar and had a few beers, talked about a variety of very silly things, and often toasted ‘to Papa’. I like to think he would have approved, except that he wouldn’t have been there because we were up quite late and Papa would not be holding with missing his bedtime. But hugs were given to and received by all, the funeral was very nice, and several spectacular speeches were made by members of the family. Well written and well read by all.

So, from Austin once again, hugs and love to all. I’ll see you all pretty soon, even if it will take me a while to be able to write again. No doubt I’ll have plenty of stories to tell whenever I get back to blogging here again.

Love,

-N

Poppa's farewell

Those of us who share this space know what has happened and have shared our sadness in multiple phone calls and messages. I don't have anything to add or reveal at this moment, I just want a placeholder in our electronic lives which will mark this change and remind us all of our mutual connection and affection.

Poppa was nothing if not practical and aware of life's certainties. How many proclamations of "Martha, this will be good widow training" have we all heard to know he had an edge of reality to his humor. I am proud of the depth of feeling shared by my children across this generational divide. It is a mark of the wonderful affection he earned and shared with those most important to him. I suppose I knew this day would come. I somehow thought I would be better prepared. I mostly find myself distracted and at a loss, less saddened than just stunned. I find myself bustling about preparing to settle lots of details and transitions for Nana as if that will fill the space in the hole that comes from knowing my father is gone. Like all grief, it sneaks up on me, in the sight of his possesions, the setting of his daily life here at home, in the conversations that will now always be about him, not with him.

For now it's time for bed, the end of a day that started like no other, with the calm voice of my mother telling me that my father had slipped away in the night, the silencing of a voice that had spoken to me hours before. I miss him, we all miss him. I love you all, as did he.

Gordie

A bit of history: Papa's granddad

While I was in Spokane, I asked Papa about where his family was from, and we got to talking about the history of the family in Kansas. I was hoping to get some sense of the family's cultural identity, since... well, I don't have one. For starters, Papa has no idea where or when his family immigrated from- but they've been here a long time. His granddad had been a coal miner in Virginia, as his dad before him. At some point, he decided to start homesteading, and the family- the whole family, moved east to homestead. They started out to farm in Iowa, and eventually resettled and claimed land in Kansas to raise wheat. Papa's grandparents, and his grandmother's sisters, were all out in the same area. Papa told me he wished that he knew his grandfather, he sounded like an interesting guy. (Papa did get to know his grandmother.) He was known to say that he would never set foot in a slave-state (which explains Kansas). He was very religious as well. He used to walk around a lot, and collect rocks. The rocks he collected, he used to build a small chapel in Rollins County. There hadn't been a church there, and the little chapel served as a place for visiting ministers to preach. The chapel may still be standing.

By the time his parents were coming up, all the land in the area was spoken for, and they lived in Atwood proper. Because this whole generation had moved out and homesteaded in the same county, they were able to share labor. Papa got to go out to his aunt Lizzie's farm and help as a kid.

So much to tell!

The best thing I did in preparation for post-committee meeting celebration was to plan to take a trip to Spokane to visit Nana and Papa. I just got back from a nearly 4 day hiatus with them (aahhh). Nana kept us just the right amount of busy. On Saturday, the whole family went to the the Community Quilters Meeting, and then enjoyed the Spokane Potter's Guild empty bowls fundraiser. For those unfamiliar, the potters make bowls, you pick one which gets filled with chili (and corn bread, and fry-bread, and anything else you stuff in it), and you get to eat the chili and keep the bowl. Brilliant! Nana also took me to the Community Theater performance of Steel Magnolias (*sniffle*), and to the library's brown bag book sale- because despite what Papa says, she does like to spoil me. The weather was beautiful, the grandparents are in good health and I got a lot of sleep- which is Papa's way of spoiling me. I may have gone overboard trying to explain the process of committee meetings, defense and matriculation to Papa- and I know I lost him when I started talking about my career plans (What are you going to use a PhD in Biology for in policy??). Maybe I'll address this in a future post- like when I've got it figured out. Speaking of future posts, I did get a couple more Papa stories- due out, well, soon.

But man, what a great weekend. And just in time- things that I found acutely irritating last week suddenly seem manageable, and I am ready to jump back on the wagon (or leap out from under it).

And getting back into life post-committee meeting, Matt and I went to see Rodrigo y Gabriela live at the Byham Theater tonight. For those who aren't already devoted fans- Rodrigo y Gabriela DON'T play flamenco music- they are from Mexico City for crying out lout- but I think you could be forgiven for saying their unique rock is highly reminiscent of it. In the second half of the show, cameras were added to the scroll so you could watch the UNBELIEVABLY FAST finger work and knuckle drumming. It was still a bit too fast to see, but I got a better appreciation for what my eyes could not resolve. Very talented pair, very energetic show.

Papa stories: The proposal

I am visiting this weekend in Spokane, I did escape the weather on the east coast, and Tsunami on the West. Since I didn't have my voice recorder out at dinner, I wanted to commit this story while it is still fresh.

I was asking Papa about the UW campus when he was a student there, and we transitioned easily to this, one of our favorite stories. When Nana and Papa had been seeing each other for a while in 1941, he brought up marriage. He said to Nana, " We seem to be getting along pretty well. Do you think you might like to get married?" To which she said, oh no. She was very focused on finishing her degree and it seemed like a bad time. But they continued dating. On December 7, they were headed to have dinner with their friend Mignonette and her husband somewhere they were house sitting. They were supposed to pick up a friend, who ran out of the house saying, "The Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor! It's all over the radio!" It was pretty apparent that this would force the US would engage in war, and a draft seemed inevitable.

After dinner, Mignonette suggested they walk up to UW to see the Christmas program. On this walk, Nana said quietly to Papa, "I think I've changed my mind. I think I'd like to get married." The rest is history.

***

Another bit that I heard about for the first time tonight was that Nana and Papa used to live in GI housing Kirkland. When I asked when, Papa said plainly that when Bart was born, he only trusted him not to crawl off into Lake Washington until he was about 6 months old. After he was about 6 months old, it seemed they should sell the house boat and move to the affordable housing for veterans in Kirkland. Any one know where this was in Kirkland?

I also found that the summer Papa work in herring processing, he was based out of Little Port Walter on Baranoff Island.

Grandparent round up

I wanted to round out the notes from the weekend. For starters, everyone is in great health and humor and the old family homestead is in great shape. Papa indulged me by spending a lot of time with my NEW digital voice recorder (Thanks, Noel!) helping to record some family stories. Once I make up my mind about which software to use on these files, I'll work on compiling some of these to share. I've got some classics here- and some new and interesting stuff too.

We celebrated Papa's birthday at the Down River Grille, a classy restaurant where Nana and Papa are TOTALLY regulars. They even brought out a piece of chocolate cake to celebrate Papa being 92- Papa wants everyone to know that he needed Nana's help to blow out the candle. Like he said "I couldn't have done it without her."

Nana kept us busy, day dreaming about craft projects with Betty, dinking around in the garden and puttering through the kitchen. We didn't cook as much this weekend- what with all the celebrations- but Nana did concede to let Matt air out his fool-proof meatloaf. The secret is Italian Sausage. They will probably be eating Meatloaf and Chocolate Zucchini Break (Cake!) until Thanksgiving.

Matt and I had an uneventful return trip from Spokane, and I am already trying to sort out when I can go back. It was fun to combo visit with Betty- I am sure I could be urged to combo visit with someone else. Who is headed to Spokane next?

Birthday Bash!

Matt and I are this weekend in Spokane, enjoying a boisterous weekend with the grandparents. Seriously- these two wear me out! I've been collecting some great stories from Papa (did you know he crossed the Panama Canal in his Navy years? Or that the men in his family had all been coal miners? This is why he never thought he'd have a 92nd birthday), and made some valiant efforts in Nana's garden. Matt has been the ultimate Mr. Fix-it, which he LOVES- He's installed new doorbells, showerhead, fixed a bathroom fan, destroyed a hornet's nest and done all the other 'Tall Person' work.

Nana and Papa of course make this more than worthwhile- they invited Matt's mom to join us for the weekend, and we celebrated an early birthday for Matt on Saturday. Sunday, of course, was Papa's big day, and when asked he was going to celebrate he said "Well. I am going to read the paper. I am going to take a nap. We've got dinner plans later, and then I'll watch the Sunday Mystery." Needless to say, his birthday plans went off without a hitch. More updates later- I just wanted to brag about what great time we were having!

G20 or H1N1

I've been debating back and forth which would make a better blog post- the impending G20 summit that will be happening HERE in Pittsburgh, or the Pandemic flu outbreak that I will inevitably get first of all our family members. I decided on both, since I will have to come back to both later in their own time.

First- G20, it's happening.

For most of our readers, I suspect that G20 will be hosted in Pittsburgh is little more then a ticker headline, so I'd like to add some color to that description. This year's Leader's Meeting will presidents from the world's most influential 20 nations to talk about the issues that they agreed to deal with last year. It is a kind of economic summit, biege in topic, but explosive in its ability to completely derail the entire city's infrastructure. The 20 Presidents (and their motorcades, and their delegates, and their entourage) will be hosted downtown at the convention center. Most of the downtown buildings will be EVACUATED to minimize the security threat- this means office buildings, stores and COLLEGE DORMS. You know what I would do if I had to leave my dorm for 3 days from some money summit? Protest. You know where the "Designated Free Speech Zone" for the summit is? Across the opposite river. Yeah. That's where all the protesters will head. Sure.

Don't get me wrong- I am super excited that this event it taking place here, it will give Pittsburgh a chance to show it's new face to the world, and in some ways is an ideal venue. But I don't yet have faith that anyone in Pittsburgh knows how to approach an angry protest mob. Hopefully this won't be a topic for a future blog post- all I know is the city is going to be gridlocked around motorcade traffic and I am going to work from home.

Pandemic Flu Stalks Nation- H1N1

We've been talking a lot about H1N1 at work, possibly because we have been inundated with carefully worded memos urging us to wash our hands, get plenty of rest and stay home if we have a fever. More likely because H1N1 is already on campus. As I've mentioned before- Pandemic means it spread well- it doesn't mean it kills you any more. There are some predictions that suggest this might change later in flu season (like, cases reported in August is early, long time since the last H1N1 strain was out, ...) but in the meantime, it is just a flu we have a name for.
We also have the first case in the building I work in. Given that I am planning to fly to Spokane this weekend, I am being extra SUPER careful, especially with disease carrying undergrads swarming campus. Not that I ever want to be sick, but knowing that there is a particular germ with a name hanging around makes me feel like I am being stalked.

Matt and I are looking forward to a long weekend in Spokane, to celebrate Papa's Birthday, Matt's birthday and Labor Day! Matt's Mom will be joining us, which means we will be having a no holds barred awesome weekend. I'll also be taking my AWESOME digital voice recorder to collect more family stories, once I get my act together, I'll try to format them for a larger audience.

More eyes

We got back from the follow-up, and everything us coming up roses. The tests came back just fine and Nana tested at almost 20/20 vision in her post-op eye. 20/20! She's sitting and reading without her glasses. I saw her polishing off her old sniper scope. She's reading the numbers off overhead airplanes. I'm saying that the woman has good eyes.

I also planted a shrub out in front of the house this morning (a good lesson from the master), started dinner (yay for crockpots!) and introduced Nana to the wonders of on-demand photo printing. I brought my camera into a drug store, plugged in the memory card, and we printed out several pictures I took of the parent and baby robins hopping around the yard. Some of them came out very, very nice. They were printed out in just a few seconds, and then Nana wanted some more pictures of us. So, we stepped outside, took some pictures with the camera, stepped back inside, and then printed them right out, right there. It's like living in the FUTURE.

Grandparents are asleep right now, and much as I'd like to join them, my flight *leaves* at 6:20 tomorrow morning, so napping is inadvisable.

-N

Such lovely eyeballs

Hello, all,

Just in case you hadn't heard already, Nana has gone through her surgery and come out the other end just fine. We went in yesterday morning and submitted her to the surgery location. They got her all prepped up and we stayed with her while she was laying out and waiting for surgery. She looks so cute in a hair net. She was also very impressed by the fact that they gave her a fresh-from-the-drier blanket to keep her toasty.

Before too long, they wheeled her into surgery and I went downstairs to the Quiznos behind the hospital to get a sandwich. To let you know how quick the procedure was, when I came back, she was already out of surgery. They took Papa and myself back and Nana was laying there in a most relaxed position on a chair with her feet up and her shades on. She was definitely still pretty anesthetized, but other than the IV she looked very much the pensioner out on the deck of a cruise ship catching some afternoon rays. And then she fell asleep again. They woke her up, however for some tea and toast. Papa and I kept an eye on her and on her vital statistics clicking away on the machine behind her. She's got pretty good blood pressure for a woman her age.

After some post-op instructions, we drove home and Nana took a nap while I lined up her eye drops and went out to play around with her new garage door opener. While I was getting it configured, I noticed one of the robins hopping around on the ground. Earlier in the day we had looked outside and the nest that we had been so carefully watching was completely empty. Well I followed the path of the mama robin and she lead me right over to one of her babies, perched up on one of the vine-climbing structures in Nana's garden. And now that I knew how to locate the chirp of a baby robin, I also found another one hiding in one of the rose bushes. I took several pictures, and Nana was just delighted that her little porch-lings were out and about in the world. I'll get them posted up here soon.

I've been keeping busy with other tasks, too. Removing stumps, recording Papa, and making dinner, mostly. We'll go in for the follow-up appointment today, and then I go back to Austin preposterously early tomorrow.

-N

How I Met Your Grandmother "Sort of "

This is from an email we recieved recently. I thought more readers would like to see it:


I was the smallest boy in my class in high school. I worried until I was junior that I would not get my weight up over 100 pounds before graduation. But in my senior year year I got up to 103-104. When I got into the navy I tipped the scales at a robust 108 lbs.
In 1937 I went to Hospital Corps School and was assigned to the USS NAL Hospital in Pensacola, Fla. I'm not much of a talker and this was a new life for me and being around southern people I had some learning to do. I listened very carefully at the nightly gab sessions as these were older, knowledgeable men. They called Floridan girls from the northwest panhandlle "sand crabs" for the hundreds of sandcrabs you could see on Florida's sandy beaches, All others were called "Piney Girls" as lots of them were from Mississippi and Louisiana. I made several trips with other apprentices and had gained some confidence. So one evening I approached a young lady just like the older guys did.
"Do you want to dance?" says I. She suddenly confronted me with an unsmiling face and blank stare. "You are a Yankee," she said. For a second I was speechless. "Heavens, no", I said "My people were all wheat farmers. The nearest Yankee was 1500 miles away" Still unsmiling, frozen and unbending. I remembered a story I had once read in the Reader's Digest. You asked a Southerner where a Yankee lived and they said "North of the Mason-Dixon Line." You asked those people they would say a Yankee was from New England. You asked a Vermonter you were told a Yankee was from the Green Mountains and ate pie for breakfast. I finished my story triumphantly "I never had a piece of pie in my whole life for breakfast."
Still unsmiling she said, "You talk funny." "I talk funny?" I said. "I talk the same as 90% of the people in this country. If anybody talks funny its you southerners are the ones talking funny." In the silence that followed I knew I had lost. She slowly turned her head and talked to the girl next to her, leaving me to look at the back of her head. It was clear that on this night she was not going to dance with a funny talking, skinny sailor from Kansas. I never found out if she was a "sand crab" or a " piney girl." Crushed, it took a year and a half before I got up enough nerve to again ask another girl to dance. This time on the California coast. Just maybe--just maybe--if she had danced with me, you might have had a sand crab for a grandmother.

Up: Movie Review

Slate.com has had a leading headline for the last week or so "Turn off your computer and go see Up right now." They were not kidding, but do yourself a favor and pack a tissue. You can read the rest of the entry when you get back.

Seriously, I'll wait.

Now that you've all seen the movie, I think we can all appreciate that all the main elements of the movie were STOLEN from PAPA. At first I thought, the old guy has a certain similarity to Papa, and then some major personality traits in common. You know, retired adventurer, caught up in his habits and fondness for his wife. Pretends to be a grouch around kids, but is a total softy with a bit of a goofy steak. Who among you can't imagine Papa at least pondering the feasibility of a moving the house balloon? This is a guy who sewed his own outdoor gear, remembers life before the original Kelty Frame backpack, spied on the communists, is a world renowned TV and stage actor, and a navy man through and through. I mean, the cartoon old guy goes through his morning routine to Bizet's Carmen- how could you keep it together for that?! What really destroyed me was the end when he says "It's just a house," in deadpan, Papa-voice. This gives me renewed interest in writing Papa's biography (this is a group project, people), and makes me want to nail down the dates for my next visit to Spokane.

Papa, I am bringing my laptop and we are going to start writing. Maybe I'll get a tape recorder, too.

Note From Papa

From Nana and Papa

After savoring the pix of the recent Pittsburgh visit, papa asked me to post this on the blog:

To all you cat lovers out there: (I assume that includes about everybody in the clan)

Do any of you know how the term "Let the cat out of the bag" originated and what it means now?

Answer: No, Papa. I don't know. Except that my boss used it once to tell me that he told my undergrad (and thereby simultaneously, ME) that we would be working together now. Surprise!

Papa's Stories and a CHALLENGE

I just enjoyed the great pleasure of a long weekend in Spokane- believe me, you are all quite jealous. There was a parade of great food, some long naps and stories of old. I also got to read Jean's memoir, which inspired me- and I hope will inspire you too. This is meant to be an update on Papa's behalf. Please be reminded, that Papa tells these stories much better himself- this is more like the movie preview to help you plan your next visit.
----
One of the things we did together (besides letting Papa make me breakfast, and watching Netflix) was to go to the DMV, so Papa could turn in his driver's license. Every one was impossibly nice. Papa explained that he wanted to trade in his license for identification card, and the woman was very supportive- nay, complimentary. They did have to re-verify all of Papa's personal info, and this I thought was interesting. When asked for the city and state he was born, he replied Rollins County, Kansas. The woman patiently asked for the CITY in the county, and Papa twice as patiently explained that he wasn't born in the city- he was born on a farm.

After the cards were sorted out we went to celebrate at the Old European, because darn, they make a good breakfast. Over breakfast, I asked Papa about growing up on a farm. He didn't think it was anything special, but I explained, I didn't grow up on a farm. So he told me a story:

During the summers, he would go to help out at his Aunt Lizzie's Farm. Once, when he was 8, his Aunt said "Billy, you like eating chicken. It's time you see how that is done." So she took him down to the coop, where they used a wire to catch a chicken by the leg. He asked her if it was ok- he was eight- and she said 'sure, it's fine' so WHACK, and he did his first chicken.

Papa went on to explain that he spent all of his summers out on his Aunt's farm. When he was older (and by older I believe he meant 10), he used to go out and round up livestock at great distance from the farmhouse, which meant he spent a lot of time on his own. As it was, there weren't other kids on this farm, so he got accustomed to being on his own. That is why he doesn't get the cabin fever Nana gets if he doesn't leave the house a couple days in a row. And that, he explained, is why he wasn't so worried about giving up his license and minimizing his mobility.

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Papa also told me about the first time he went to New York. He was in the Navy, and thier boat went back to the yard in Brooklyn where it was built. While he was there, Papa tried to get around to see everything he could think of he had ever heard about the City- the stadium, museums, parks- anything that popped into his mind he did. And he had a lot of help- a lot of the guys on the boat were from around the area.

There were three guys onboard who were polish, and they were all called 'Ski. He got to talking to 'Ski one day, and 'Ski thought he would really enjoy going into the City for a big Spaghetti dinner- it was cheap, and good. After their shift, they headed into the city, collecting some fellow sailors en route. All told, there were about 8 guys going along, all of them telling Papa how the subway worked, how to navigate the city and this sort of thing. In that time, before the war, these types of restaurants had a guy who stood up front by the windows and scooped up the Spaghetti. Papa thought it looked good, so all 8 sailors piled in. All 8 guys went on to explain the best part about Italian food- since Papa had never had it- recommending things for him to try. When the waitress, a no-nonsense girl in her thirties, came by to see if they were ready, 'Ski explained that they were just telling Papa about Italian food, since he'd never had it. She just rolled her eyes and said "Oh please, I know a Wop when I see one." Which gives Papa a pretty good laugh to this day.
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This last story is just to remind us all of what a man of mystery our favorite communist spy, part time actor, mountain man extraordinaire is. Nana told me that to make up the difference in wages when the family was living in Juneau, Papa took some accounting courses by mail so he could do some accounting on the side (!). Some years later, this really paid off when he was asked to be on the Auditing Board of his Credit Union. He explained that the Auditors didn't have to audit in 'adding up columns of numbers' sense, they just check in on various features of the bank to keep everyone paying attention. He gestured to a woman's photo on the Credit Union newsletter, and said one day he went in and asked to count the teller's cash. The woman in the photo was the head of the teller's at the time, so she volunteered to count it for him, since she was so quick. And "Zwiip...she counted up all the money. We were just supposed to check in on things like that, let people know we were watching." He had this gig from a few years before he retired to a few years after. He finally quit so he and Nana and Jean could go and spend 3 month living in Oaxaca. The head teller went on to be the President of the Credit Union, so she gets featured on newsletters all the time, but Papa knew her when.

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Here is the CHALLENGE: These are pretty good stories, but I don't think they are the best. I would challenge my fellow authors and readers to try and remember some of Papa's best stories to be collected here on the blog. Does anyone have the details of Papa's life in espionage? More from the good ol' Navy days? Any that just happen to involve Dad being a goofus? I'll boldly ask Papa to serve as our managing editor, and help us get the details of his storied life correct.

Visit to Spokane!

Sorry I didn't post over the weekend. I was visiting my favorite grandparents in Spokane, and we were too busy catching up, watching the Olympics and being spoiled (well, I was at least) to get around to it. Nana and I took a ride on the Gondola over Spokane Falls- which is a spectacular view! I wish I'd remembered a camera. We also went out for Greek food, putzed around in the garden a bit and kept Papa company for the BBC Sunday mystery (Inspector Lindley?). I caught up with Gramma W too, who has decided she would like to make the move to Las Vegas, and I for one am really pleased for her.
I know everyone has been wondering about Papa's health. I think he plans to announce the end of his professional sprinting career soon, but he has enough humor that I think he can overcome the set back, especially with the aide of Nana's great cooking.
It is always nice to be reminded that I have such a great an supportive family, and especially good for the ego to hear grandparents tell you how smart and talented you are. I got in late last night, but I am primed and ready to master some science this week.