Father's Day

Bethany, on the left, was the ultimate camera hog. Martin, center, had to look aside to avoid lens glare. Erin Joy on the right was grinning for her Mom.
Bethany and Erin could not sit up or talk.

Someone in our family has been disabled since 1974. That changes my perspective on a lot of issues. For example, I cannot understand how we can call ourselves a wise, liberal, compassionate nation when our own American genocide against unborn babies goes on without remorse.

Babies are the most wonderful gift from God, and being a father is the most fulfilling role possible. I wrote once before that all the time invested in the early days will come back with lifetime dividends paid, just like saving money. But the government cannot take it away.

I remember my mother reading Lassie Come Home to us, my sister bawling her eyes out at the happy and sad parts. My teachers at Garfield read to us as well, even though we could read. I read stories to our children, and Martin reads to his. I insisted on real literature, so we read Twain, Lewis, and Tolkien.

We are a three-generation Lord of the Rings family now. Josie's middle name is Tinuviel, and Danielle's is Eowyn. We half-expected our grandson to be named Gandalf. His middle name is Nathaniel - a gift from God in Hebrew.

Now that we live in Arkansas, we have many casual get togethers. On Father's Day we had Dilly Bars. Xander, Tammy, and I wax-washed the van. Xander also wax-washed the tree. Soon he aimed the hose at everything except the van, including his mother's legs. Xander wanted a squirt-gun, so Grammy fixed a squirt bottle with sudsy water in it. The van was finished, so Xander squirted the van and thoroughly washed one rose bush.

Josie gave Sassy a workout, leaving our tripod dog grinning and panting. Danielle watched her favorite videos on YouTube. Often the grandchildren and dogs cluster around the computer for games and entertainment.

We parted and met again by accident at the mall. Martin was using his gift card for computer equipment, but the grandchildren wanted to visit the bookstore. I dropped by to use my gift card for a Photoshop book. We met in the computer section of Border's.

Long ago, Martin and I hornswaggled his Mom into getting an Atari game computer, for its educational value. We wanted the games, but it was educational. Martin now taps on keys to get mainframe computers to process terabytes of data, among other things. He got me into computer science, and that got me into online teaching.

Now we discuss the future of publishing, which will be mostly digital.

Martin helped with my library, in Cleveland, many decades ago.

Sassy Is a Neighborhood Star Again

Sassy took Anna to Sedona, Arizona.

Betty was Sassy's foster mother, after the amputation that made our dog into a tripod. Sassy's leg was useless and keeping her back, so that was necessary.

In Glendale, Sassy was a big hit with everyone, especially since we met many dog owners on the way to the park. Quite a few cats met Sassy too. Sassy delighted in sending them up trees and into garages, but never touched one.

At first Sassy was not meeting too many people. In Bella Vista, Arkansas, few walk their dogs. Little by little, Sassy has made a new set of friends. The mailman sent dog cookies over his car, from the opposite side window, getting them to land in front of Sassy. I wondered if he had been in artillery.

Sassy's main hobby is hunting squirrels instead of cats. We have not even seen a cat. Sassy will chase a squirrel up a tree or check out a ground squirrel's burrow. I am sure the pink spot on her nose was from getting too close to one.

"Let's go kill a squirrel!" means take a walk, but it starts out with a rapid sweep of the yard.

Sassy has an interesting clucking sound she makes when greeting her canine friends. Her main buddies are the neighbor dogs and Daisy. One mean little French poodle hates her and every human as well.

Sassy plays with our Sheltie Precious every day. They chase in and out the doggy door and do their mock fighting. Sometimes Precious is down, fighting for her life, grinning and snapping in the air. At other times, Sassy is the victim, getting the snapping jaws.

If I glance at them, the fight stops, so I try to ignore them and watch. They get especially happy and energetic during fights.

Precious smiles by opening and closing her mouth. Treasure, her companion, continues her cute little puppy routine, even though she is old. Treasure has two tricks - jumping on the bed and swiping at us with her paw to get more petting. When she does these tricks, she grins as if she just won Olympic gold.

Sweden Honors a Heroe

Mother's Day

Our visitor noticed blue jays nesting outside our bedroom window.

Since then we have had many rainy days. The mother blue jay does most of the nesting. I have seen her sitting there in the gloom, rain pouring down, her wings spread over her nest. The outside is cold and damp, but her wings and downy feathers keep the eggs warm and dry.

My window is only 20 inches from her nest, so she glares at me when I look at her progress. If I walk around the outside of the house, she distracts me from her nest by flying nearby and calling out "Jay!"

The blue jay is endowed by her Creator with a self-sacrificing love for her children. A philosopher would advise her, "You should serve your own needs first. Blue jay eggs are a dime a dozen. Take wing and find yourself." But her DNA code, like software, dedicates her to a nobler task.

I have been gathering photos from my high school graduating class, 1966. Some of our mothers are still alive, but many are not. My mother taught in the public schools, so she knew hundreds of parents, many of them fellow teachers.

That was the classic age in public education, when the children were safe. The teachers watched over us and made sure we were prepared for higher education. When I see photos of various students, I remember, "Their mother was a teacher too. I saw her at our house, or PTA, or community functions, or all three."

I just finished scanning our high school yearbook, when we were seniors. We are seniors once again, in a different sense. Instead of getting student discounts we are angling for senior discounts based on age.

Now that we have a world-wide financial crisis, my mother's comments about the Depression make more sense. She mowed lawns and cleaned houses to get through Augustana College, which took a long time while she was teaching in one-room country schools.

My mother grew up on a farm and remembered when electricity was brought to their farmhouse. She would say, "You don't know how good you have it." She was right. We did not. That generation learned frugality during the Depression and self-sacrifice during WWII and Korea. We benefited from both and took the advantages for granted.

When we asked Mom how she accomplished so much, she said, variously:
1. Grew up on a farm.
2. Went through the Depression.
3. Taught in a one-room country school.

I thought about that while I was trying to trim old newsprint. Mom could cut out articles with precision and file them methodically. Many of her books had a review from a major newspaper, taped into the front cover.

One of her many photo albums included a Mother's Day card, which I crafted in class, around fifth grade at Garfield. I wrote: "Congratulations for having a genius son." She must have enjoyed that card, because she kept it for 80 years.

My mother went through a long-term crisis as she lost her short-term memory. Many times she was agitated, angry, and confused. We moved her to our house in Minnesota and then to our home in Arizona, where she died at the age of 90. She turned into the ultimate mother at the end, happy and loving, still active, creating poems on the fly as we wheeled her around the care facility. She led us and the staff in a spirited rendition of "God bless America."

The hospital said, "The nurses all love your mom."

Our neighbors said, "All the children love your mom."

I lost count of the students who came up to me and said, "I had your mother as a teacher. She was the best teacher I ever had."

True genius comes from picking the right parents. As Lincoln said, "All I am, or can be, I owe to my angel mother."

Sassy No Longer Has a Park To Visit - She Lives in One

In Phoenix, I walked Sassy to the park every morning, sometimes as early as 4 AM to avoid the heat.

In Northwest Arkansas, we live in a park, a double lot where trees surround the house. Just like the dogs in "Up," Sassy lives to chase squirrels. She has no hope of catching one, but the thrill never goes away.

The morning walk begins with, "Sassy - let's go kill a squirrel." She knows that includes walking across the main road and going up the hill on Wentworth.

First we stop to see Maynard and Homer, two neighboring guard dogs, big babies looking for attention. Sassy chases Maynard in circles and fusses with Homer. Old Homer is known for not liking smaller dogs, so he sometimes wears an expression of disgust and dismay, backing away to watch from the porch. Maynard enjoys the chase.

Across the street is a new Scotch terrier, usually inside. On the corner is a little dog who stays outside without a leash. That is Sassy's boyfriend. Our granddaughter got them together for a social meeting. Ever since, Sassy and her boyfriend have enjoyed daily chases around the yard. Sassy on three legs can keep up with other dogs on four. The new neighbors admire Sassy and talk about her with me.

Chipmunk holes are abundant, so Sassy checks them out. Chipmunks do two things to hide. One is the freeze. When they stop moving, they blend easily with the background. If Sassy charges, they duck into their hidey-holes nearby. PETA does not need to be alarmed. Sassy has no chance to touch her mammal friends.

Precious and Treasure Enjoy Their New Home

Precious can be counted on for mischief.
1 Silden Lane, Bella Vista, Arkansas, 72715.

Precious and Treasure are enjoying their new home, too. The previous occupant used the back porch for his dogs' exercise and sun. The house is stretched out, and the concrete back porch runs the length, with much of it under a roof. Today Precious and Sassy enjoyed a nap on the big pillow under the roof. The porch can be accessed from a guest bedroom, the living room, or the dining/kitchen area.

Treasure likes resting in little cubby-holes and sleeping outside when it is cold (Phoenix style - 40 degrees).

Sassy and I will also take our walks around the area, which is quite hilly. She has a nice front yard for tossing the ball. Lately we have had daily rain, so walking is a bit limited.

Arkan-Sassy

Sassy and her fur-sisters are moving to Arkansas, because Greg and Chris have a chance to live near their son's family. That means a permanent vacation, of sorts, with three delightful grandchildren about 15 minutes away. The grandchildren have rescue cats, but they love dogs too.

Sassy has enjoyed Glendale. She cleaned up the mean streets of Poinsettia. Where cats once roamed at their pleasure, now felines tremble and hide. Some head for the trees. Others zip under the semi-open garage doors. Sassy's favorites hit Mach 1 crossing the street or leaping over the fence.

Sassy has come face to face with many cats and kittens. If they play innocent and just look at her, she does nothing. She has great intuition for their sense of guilt. If they run, she boosts their speed as much as she can.

Today her street was free of roaming cats. It will probably take years for them to start purring again in the morning.

Sassy is enormously popular here. She greets every dog and person she meets, wiggling with pleasure when people talk to her. The pet owners all know her by name and call out to her. Dogs want to play with her and plant their front feet, which is canine speech for, "Let's run around the park together."

She will have a park-like setting in Arkansas, and squirrels to train in the art of survival.