It's been a month since I've had something to say here. 

Well, not exactly.

It's been a month since I've had something to say here and had the time to record it. 

Aye, there's the rub.

So a quick recap:

Since I last posted, I've completed another trip around the sun. My 44th, to be exact. The actual birthday celebration was lovely.  Hubby gave me a new bike.  It's pink, my favorite color.  The kids each gave me treasures they found in the dollar bin section at Target - which they purchased with their own savings from their piggy banks.  (Hugh gave me a pair of reading specs, and the irony is not lost on me!)

Unfortunately, as my birthday came to a close, I started feeling the symptoms of shingles coming on. (Too much partying, perhaps? Or merely old age?) I recognized the pain right away this time, having had an inaugural bout of shingles just two months prior, in August. The good news: I started the meds quickly, and short-circuited most of the illness (even avoiding the rash) this second time around.  The bad news: the meds to prevent/minimize nerve damage have side effects that summon my Inner Crazy.  Luckily, the whole episode is over now.  And on my To Do list:  shingles vaccination.

The rest of this past month? Pretty much the unremarkable blur experienced by all of us enlisted in the army of constantly moving minivan moms (and dads).  Shuttling kids to tennis, chess, ballet, Spanish, doctors, dentists, and playdates.  Preparing meals, running my small business, volunteering at school, brokering sibling peace accords on the homefront, and assigning consequences when those accords are violated.  Being a devoted - and occasionally, cranky - wife.  Shopping at Costco, Target, Whole Foods, Publix...and urgently shopping around at even more places when my business laptop died unexpectedly a couple of weeks ago. 

Dizzy yet?

Never fear - I also squeezed in a little fun.  I attended my First Book Club Ever, and it was great!  And my husband and I had an overnight getaway sans kids (to beautiful downtown Atlanta) courtesy of my in-laws.

As I write this, outside it is pitch black outside and pouring rain.  I glance at the clock and see that the kids will be awake in about an hour, ready to start their day.  I haven't slept yet, and I think I will just stay up...another all nighter.  Insomnia bites.  

But...

It allowed me to write this, right? 

Maybe next time I'll write about George.  Most folks call him Car Wash, but he prefers George.  Thinking of him makes me happy and sad at the same time.  I hope tonight he is somewhere safe, warm and dry...and sleeping well.

 

 

My grandfather celebrated his 89th birthday today. 

To me he has always been 'GP', because I was born when he was in his mid-40's, which was, he said, too young to be called Grandpa. 

He was born in 1922 to Merland, who worked as a foreman in a factory, and Sarah (Sadie), who was what we politely call today a 'stay-at-home mom'.  In honor of his paternal grandfather, he was named Hubert Marsdon Avery.  His beginnings were humble:  for years their house did not have an indoor bathroom - he remembers using an outdoor privy and later helping his father to install the plumbing and bathroom inside the house. GP also remembers his mother washing clothes by hand, although the family eventually acquired a washing machine.

When GP was 19, the United States entered World War II and he enlisted in the Army Air Corps (the precursor to today's Air Force).  Though he had not completed high school, he made the grade for pilot training and became a bomber pilot in Europe.  Here's a picture of him from those days, wearing his wings, followed by a picture of the actual plane he flew: 

 

Soon after returning home from the War, GP met my grandmother, Genevieve, on a blind date.  After a whirlwind courtship, they married:

At the time, my great-grandparents had some misgivings about the marriage; in their eyes my grandmother had two strikes against her: she was Polish and poor.  But GP and Neenie (as I called her) remained married for 56 years until Neenie passed away in 2003. 

During their years together, my grandparents had many adventures: First they built a home, then moved from Connecticut to Florida in the early 1950s. GP held many different jobs - for a time he was a truck driver, then a mechanic, and years later he worked in an abstract and title office.  I greatly admire the courageous decision he made in his 40s that 'The Office' life wasn't for him; he left relative financial security and started his own small business, which he operated successfully until he retired.  In their last 15 or so years together, my grandparents criss-crossed the U.S. in an Airstream trailer, visiting every state - except, of course, Hawaii.

GP and Neenie also had two children.  Their son Michael is my father, though he has been absent most of my life.  When I was 13, my grandparents became my de facto parents, which I have written about previously here, and which I consider as their greatest gift to me.

Despite a few health scares over the years - which I've also posted about previously - GP remains independent, sharp and strong.  Though he now uses hearing aids, he does not take a single prescription pill, lives on his own, and maintains his 'healthy' disdain for going to the doctor. 

His continuing vigor is especially remarkable in light of his dietary habits, which are, in my 
humble opinion, appalling.  When I plead with him to eat more veggies and less ice cream, he shrugs and says, "I'm 89 - I'm going to eat what I want." 

How do you argue with that?

I simply shrug, too, and reply (lovingly, natch) that he is a freak of nature.  And that I hope I have inherited his genes.

Happy Birthday GP! 

(Save some cake for me...) 

 

Fall is off to a brilliant, beautiful beginning (and awesome alliteration!) on this fine Friday, the first official day of Autumn.  (And yes, this really IS the view here in Milton, Georgia!)