What a year it has been....Happy New Year!

If you've kept up with me at all throughout the last twelve plus months you know we have had lots of exciting things going on. Our daughter Allison graduated from college and was married, five grandbabies were born, I earned my second masters degree, CarlyAnn, Tim and I had the trip of a lifetime to New York city where she had the honor of attending American Ballet Theaters Young Dancers program, and we had a wonderful Thanksgiving celebration with all six of our children, their spouses and our eight grandchildren. There are other things you may not know. Today, for the first time since Tim's initial diagnosis with melanoma in the spring of 2004, Tim and I talked about our retirement ten plus years down the road. Now, this may not seem earth shattering to you, but for us it is. This is the first time we have considered that Tim may actually survive to retire. After, several surgeries and two brutal clinical trials, doomsday predictions from his physicians, Tim currently had no evidence of this deadly disease. We had a setback in November of '09 when he was diagnosed with kidney cancer during a routine melanoma scan, but it was unrelated and the surgery was successful. So today look forward to a New Year, with an new attitude, looking forward to working, spending time with family, and setting things in place for our eventual retirement. Thanks for being a part of our life!

While I sit and wait for my daughter to have her first child, I think of the joy and anticipation and excitement that surrounded her birth. She was late, as her son Aleczander will be, and she was breech (Aleczander is not). Apparently, she decided to do a little flip her last week in her cozy little home and was ultimately delivered by c-section after six hours of labor, dilation to ten, ready to push, my midwife Janine Sacco walks in and screams at the nurses, "This baby is breech, why didn't you call me?" From then on things were a little frantic as Janine got on the phone and called her husband at home, he was my OB, to inform him he had to get off the couch and come to the hospital to deliver this breech baby. When Dr. Sacco arrived he suggested I deliver, he would use forceps. I demanded a c-section to protect my little princess from the probing claws of the forceps. Dr. Sacco was not happy, but a c-section I had and Allison Elizabeth was delivered shortly thereafter on July 13, 1988. She was beautiful, perfect, pink, and 9lbs. 2 oz. That day was the beginning of the fierce protective maternal instinct I have always had for my Allibeth, that I still have today. So when she asked me to coach alongside her wonderful husband Alex, at the birth of their first child, it seemed like a fitting finish, like a perfect way and time to pass the torch of maternal protection from mother to daughter as she ventures into this new life and takes on this new role as a mother.

KMEN Talking Dog

Well, if you know anything about me you know that this week CarlyAnn's photo in the New York Central Park band shell was sent all over the world on the wire. But, that really isn't that significant when you realize that when I was her age I wrote into to the Inland Empire's KMEN radio station and entering the "KMEN Talking Dog" contest. The paragraph I wrote won me a four foot tall shaggy dog with and am radio inside of it making it the KMEN talking dog. But wait, there is more. Not only did I win the dog, but my photo with my adorable pixie haircut (gag) was on the front of the KMEN newsletter, distributed at least to me and their staff. And that was the beginning (and the end) of my fame. Now, my beautiful daughter, who by the way is underwhelmed by the worldwide distribution of her photo, will enjoy the same fleeting fame (in this case enjoyed mostly by her mother). In the photo above I am eleven, but the pixie haircut is the same. That was the summer we saw every museum and mission in California on my dad's quest to provide us with a cultured and gentile upbringing. By the way, he, my dad, Joel, later J.R. was a newspaper publisher. He was no stranger to fame himself as he was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize for his Action Line column by the Claremont Colleges in the 1960's.

Flying solo

When I was twelve I flew to Alaska, standby. My best friend Sue Duncan had moved to North Pole, Alaska and my parents (unbelievably) stepped up and bought me a standby ticket from Ontario, California to Anchorage, Alaska. They sent me for six weeks. I had to change planes in Seattle and was warned that if I missed my flight I would have to hang tight and wait overnight until the morning flight. Now, I wonder, what were they thinking? No cell phones, no regular phone communication, definitely no letter writing from me. Today, when my beautiful twelve year old gets more than three feet away from me in lovely post Governor Giuliani New York City I go into a panic. She has a cell phone, I have a cell phone, my husband has a cell phone. Times have changed. Hold your kids close, hug them, love on them, you can't love them too much, even when they're twelve.

No! Not the Girl Scout Pin...

Memories of day camp in Lytle Creek, meetings at the Williams', campfires and s'mores, camping in Yosemite, and that coming of age trip to Laguna Beach flashed through my head as Carly's shiny new Girl Scout pin flew through the air toward the trash bag. Today, we cleaned Carly's room and found new homes for stickers and sticker books, baby dolls, board games and all things little girl. She is twelve now and they must go. But, not the Girl Scout pin. In that moment as the pin came flying toward me I thought of my Girl Scout pin; coveted in a safe place in my room just a few steps away. My mom was the co-leader, she really didn't know how to be a Girl Scout, but she tried. With the help of the other moms who were lifers (lifetime Girl Scouts), my mom slept outdoors, drank out of a canteen, and got dirty. A professional pianist and organist, mom wasn't really accustomed to getting dirty. But, what a fantastic experience my sister and I had as Brownies, Juniors, Cadettes, and I was even briefly a Senior Girl Scout, because she was willing to get out of her comfort zone for us. CarlyAnn has been a Girl Scout since Kindergarten, as her sister Allison was before her. First, a Daisy (now for younger girls), then a Brownie, and now a Junior. Carly's girl scout experience has been filled with games, projects, camping trips to Laguna, Lake Arrowhead, and Point Dume, tidepools, service projects caroling at convalescent homes, providing holiday gifts for needy families, My Stuff Bags, Manna, Toys for Tots, and of course selling those famous Girl Scout cookies. Why is the pin so important? Girl Scouts introduced my mom, my sister, me and my girls to a world where girls and women were independent and empowered, taking control, taking care of themselves, camping and serving that we carry with us throughout our lives. Remember...Make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver, but the other.s gold! Thanks, Marilyn, Mrs. Williams, Kim, Nikki, Lisa, and Cindy <3

Eats, shoots, and Boppie

Asparagus always makes me think of my grandfather, we called him Boppie. Yep, that's right Boppie, like the big fluffy horseshoe pillow people use to lay their babies on. Well, Boppie was quite the gardener, and when we visited him in Illinois, if we were lucky, it would be asparagus season. Boppie had his garden in the tiny patch of land behind the tiny two story house my mother had grown up in. This was the same place he had burned all of the the "old" furniture from my great grandmother, and great great grandmother's estates in the early 1950's when he got tired of having all of that "old junk" in his garage. At any rate, Boppie would take us out to the garden and we would carefully select only the perfect shoots of asparagus for our grandmother Mimi to cook with our dinner. We were only allowed to have a few stalks of this precious commodity and would never dream of leaving a speck of asparagus on our plate. Today, as I prepared asparagus for my husband Tim and my daughter CarlyAnn I thought of Boppie. As it turns out, for years Tim has only been eating the tips of the asparagus spears I serve him and CarlyAnn will eat everything but the tips of her asparagus. Genius! Today I finally realized that if I just cut their asparagus in half, there would be no waste and more for the rest of us. Tim ate the tips and CarlyAnn ate the rest. Perfection! Something a depression era Illinois haberdashery salesman would appreciate. Thanks Boppie.

Handstands are underrated

I saw a show once on TV that profiled a hand model. She walked around all day with long gloves on and her hands up in the air, she had a house husband who did everything to protect her hands which were her income. I guess a dancer would need to walk on their hands, not walk or use a scooter to protect their moneymakers. We learned this too late at our house.

Well, being a dancer, a kid and being a golfer is not working well for CarlyAnn this summer. It appears that every time I beamed with pride at her beautiful long drives down the fairway, her toenail was also being driven into her toe. Of course, there was also the four hours of dance, a stubbed toe and the door scrapped over her foot. So we tried home remedies, soaking, sanitizing, and salting which definitely cleared things up. Today went to a fantastic pedicurist who fixed her up with a smile (Carly screamed). As things are now we leave in eleven days for CarlyAnn to dance in New York. There will be a moratorium on all things hopscotch and skipping, running and playing.

Everything about dancing isn't beautiful

For example....

Allison Elizabeth

There in the Garlic Capital of the World, where the bulbous, odoriferous, stinking rose is queen, my beautiful princess Allison was born on July 13, 1988, in Gilroy, CA. I suppose that might make her Allison, Princess of Garlic, but it doesn't seem appropriate for such a lovely, sweet, and spiritual girl. Maybe Allison, Princess of (stinking) Roses. Yes, that is it Allison Princess of Roses. As she celebrates her birthday this year, she is a proud college graduate, married to her love Alex and about to become a mother herself.

What's a Getty?

"This is Paul’s ear. If we don’t get some money within 10 days, then the other ear will arrive. In other words, he will arrive in little bits." It was 1971 when I was fifteen that I first heard of a Getty. Some kid of a rich guy's ear had been delivered to his family by kidnappers. Yuk! I watched with horror as the story played out. J. Paul Getty the third, born November 4, 1956, one day before me, was the rebellious grandson of J. Paul Getty the oil tycoon and philanthropist that built the Getty museums to house and increase his art holdings. Recently expelled from school, when the demand for a $17 million ransom demand for Paul III came, they were reluctant to pay, thought it was a hoax (or Paul III) until the ear arrived. Eventually, grandpa Getty negotiated to pay $2.9 million which he loaned to his son for 4% interest. The kidnappers were never found. Today the J. Paul Getty Trust continues to provide ongoing funding for Getty's pet projects the Getty
center in Brentwood and the Getty Villa in Malibu. Photo, flowers at the Getty Malibu July 2010.

What a long strange trip its been...

June of 1974 to July of 2010, my educational pursuits are complete. Received the results today of my comprehensive exam from my second masters and preliminary administrative credential, which represent the year and a half of hell I put my family through. While working on my credential my husband had a second cancer diagnosis, kidney on top of his already devastating melanoma, my baby girl got married, we had four new grandchildren, I got RIF'd (reduction in force-teacher talk for fired), rehired, threatened to be displaced (sent to another school due to declining enrollment), attended church less often and planned a financially draining trip to New York for my twelve year old daughter to attend ABT and Joffrey Ballet summer intensives. Today I begin a three day training at the Getty Villa in Malibu...learning more about an ancient Italian villa and the antiquities within, papyrus making and more. Oh, this isn't education, it is just fun! On the road again...

CarlyAnn Audition Pics

We auditioned in January and February using this pic.
She was accepted to Joffrey Ballet Chicago, Joffrey Ballet New York, Joffrey Jazz Contemporary New York, and American Ballet Theatre (ABT) New York. She is attending ABT and Joffrey Jazz Contemporary in New York. We leave July 28th and return August 21st.

five, six, seven, eight....

There he was. tap shoes, top hat, and a dancing sensation. My little brother Jamie. I never understood him and the older he got the more I realized I didn't know him. Then on June 6, 1985, less than a month after his 23rd birthday, while my sister and I sat on the stairs in her home listening...he told our mother, "Mom, I'm gay and I have AIDS." It is a moment I will never forget, a desperation so profound, that I feel it in my chest as I write. This boy, this man, that I didn't know, was dying. It would be five months of dead ends before he took his last breath. During those few months I discovered who Jim was, who he had become, during the eleven years since I had left home for college. He was an amazing designer, artist, dancer, friend, and gay man. I remember the sadness I felt for him, never being able to live his life as who he really was. But, I realize that he was living his life as who he really was, I just wasn't a part of it. Today as I get ready to take my beautiful eleven year old daughter to New York to summer intensives at American Ballet Theatre and Joffrey Ballet, I think of him, of his unrealized hopes and dreams, for me she dances to honor him and his legacy.