Scatterbrained

I have a lot to say today.

Firstly, I wanted to post a few pictures from my bean bottling experience with the mom. This happened the same evening that Grandpa passed away, so of course that took precedence. I think, though, that he would have been proud of us. I don't really care for beans, but they sure make for nice pictures. I guess there isn't much to say except that there were huge bowls full of green beans, lots of empty mason jars, a big pot, my mom, a red and white plaid apron and me. My mom had never canned beans by herself before, and I had never done it at all, so after several phone calls we finally figured out the basics. I washed the snipped beans in the sink and filled the jars, my mom put in the salt, I put in the water, and my mom took over the rest.

It's been a bit over a week now since I finished this project, but it's worth mentioning. I revamped my bedroom. Two of the walls have been red since my sixteenth birthday (I loved it at the time) but recently it's been a bit much. So, I taped, primed, painted, touched up, breathed in horrible chemicals and gained a few sore muscles. It was great! My whole bedroom is now a springy shade of green. It's exactly how I wanted it to be. There is so much light in there now. It's peaceful, and I actually get visitors! My mom comes down at least a few times a day just so she can sit and look around. It's quite nice!

Next I want to recommend a movie. My mom bought it a while ago and said that she thought I'd love it, even though it had a sad ending. She was right. The movie is called "Miss Potter." It's based on the life of Beatrix Potter, who wrote and illustrated the Peter Rabbit books and many more. The cinematography is simple and the locations are rapturously lovely in their simplicity as well. Just my style. Miss Potter's character is everything I love.

Also, here are just a few of my favorite pictures from last Saturday when we were [literally] digging through Grandpa's old things. I know Nate got a bunch of pictures too, and my dad suggested that he and I make a disk of pictures from the funeral and from this day and give them out to anyone who wants them. So just let me know if you'd like a copy! I got a ton of pictures from Grandpa's shop. While we're on the subject... this was such a fun day!! I loved seeing everybody and it was wonderful to look through all of Grandpa's things. Soooo many memories. I got several books, a sweater or two, a record player (with a few records to accompany it -- forgive the pun), and a PIANO. Who knew that piano out in the shop that has been covered in dust for so long belonged to my parents? Not me.

Yesterday I spent most of the day reading "Cold Sassy Tree" by Olive Ann Burns. If you have never read it... do. The thick southern style is delicious. It sticks to your ribs just like a good breakfast of biscuits and sausage gravy. Just as filling and wonderful. Mmm.

One more thing. I am SO EXCITED for this movie. Some of Tim Burton's stuff weirds me out, but I love love love love love Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. (You must read that one too.) I think he'll do a good job. March 5, 2010.

Well, I'm off to purchase a fish. A goldfish, maybe. Just something to keep me company. (My dad is through with hamsters.)

Have a lovely day!

Nate the Great and the Mission Call

This is more than a week overdue, but it most certainly deserves it's own post.

It was really weird to hold that thing in my hands. For as long as I can remember, Nate has been here. Close to me. Always a phone call away or just in the next bedroom. One of my best friends. It was weird to know that I didn't know where he would be for the next two years -- none of us did -- but the answer was just underneath my fingers. It was torturous to sit in the same room with that giant, white envelope. I paced back and forth unconsciously several times during the next few hours.

Finally it was seven thirty and Nate was home. But wait, dinner?? NOW!??!!? Okay. One BLT down, one mission call to go.

Of course, before actually opening the call, Nate set up one camera on the tripod and the other in the hands of his friend, Trey. It all must be documented, of course.

I was almost positive he would be going to somewhere in the states or Europe.

Mom was crossing her fingers for Omaha, Nebraska.

Rrrrrrrip!

Brazil Porto Alegre South Mission.

None of us knew where that was, so we checked out the globe and discovered that it's at THE very bottom of Brazil. It borders Uruguay and Argentina and the Atlantic Ocean. All the people that I've talked to have told me that there are fantastic barbecues in Porto Alegre, which is great news for Nate. Also, the record low temperature is about 32 degrees Fahrenheit. WAY. TO. GO.

I'm totally jealous.

And the weather turned.

A slight delicious twist of a chill in the air reminds me that summer doesn't stick around.

A lone sunflower stalk bares its head above the tall weeds in the garden and the green pumpkins blush orange.

My sweater makes its way from the depths of my closet and perches on my shoulders; wrapping me in lovely, soft warmth.

The shadows vanish as the sky becomes a dome of muted purples and grays and rain begins to fall in small beads.

Hundreds of swallows stand out against the clouds as they pass over me; their beaks turned southward.

The yellow tassels on the corn stand out against the green beneath them and the gray above.

A tiny bird is perfectly framed in a diamond in the chain link fence.

The cement is darkened by puddles which make the ground look glossy and mirror the weather.

Fruit litters the ground underneath the trees and a few leaves have turned yellow and hang heavily.

The outline of the mountains is barely visible through the distant sheets of rain and a sudden rainbow arches its way around it.

The colors are more colorful in this weather somehow.

Bird and cricket noises fill the empty spaces.

Unnecessary sprinklers chatter in the neighbor's yard.

The air conditioner growls on the side of the house.

My dog speaks up and is answered by a distant friend.

The leaves rub against each other and make hissing noises.

When the rain lets up and a breeze picks up the scent of the clean, damp air, patches of dry cement creep around the edges and spread quickly.

Once the clouds move over and the mountains are lit up, traces of color can be seen where the trees must be changing.

I think summer has put in its two weeks notice.

Tractors, Tuxedos and Tootsie Rolls

Richard Dan Christofferson

Born: March 6, 1927

Died: July 29, 2009

Grandma & Grandpa - [around] 1947

Grandma & Grandpa - 1981

Grandma & Grandpa - 1999

I wish I knew how many times I sat on Grandpa Dick's knee. In the days when I fit on his lap, "Rig-a-jig-jig" was a regular operation, and picture books were read aloud to me in a deep, gravelly voice. When I got a bit older and could run around the room, he would catch me up and tickle me with his finger, saying, "You have a bone right there! And right there! And right there!" I grew up thinking that "tuxedo" was just another word for overalls because of him. To say that my Grandpa wore tuxedos almost daily is completely true. He did. It's not a perfect memory of him without a pair of overalls and a handful of tootsie rolls in the front pocket. Another thing that comes to my mind when I remember Grandpa is how he would help Grandma up and down the steps on our front porch when they'd come to visit and walk arm in arm with her to the car.

Grandpa and Sarah - 1990

When we were at Grandma and Grandpa's house he would always take us out to feed the chickens (I would hide behind his leg because I was afraid of them) or to pick raspberries in the garden. There were a select few times that Grandpa would let me ride on the tractor with him as he was tilling. I remember having milk can dinners or buttermilk pancake breakfasts in their backyard in the summer. Sometimes when we'd arrive at their house we would automatically run out to the shop in the yard to see if Grandpa was there, and he would give us butterscotch candies from a bowl on his desk. I'll never forget the sawdust-y smell of that shop. If I ever lost a tooth and he noticed, Grandpa would say, "Have you been kissing the boys again?" When we would pull away from their house in the car, he and Grandma would stand on the walkway and wave "see-bye-ya" with one hand waving backwards and forwards, and the other waving side to side.

Grandpa and Grandma - 1997

The image of Grandma Jean and Grandpa Dick sitting next to each other in their armchairs in the living room is another one I'll never forget. Many times we'd end up watching "The Lawrence Welk Show" right alongside them. I remember Grandpa asking us to play the piano for him and smiling and humming along. I remember the tears that would often come to his eyes when we'd sing to him and with him, especially if it was one of the hymns or "Home on the Range." I'll be forever grateful for his love of music.

I would have to say that my favorite part of any family reunion down at The Crick was sitting around the campfire listening to Grandpa's rendition of "Wilbur." (I'm sure I speak for most of you when I say that.) His smile and his laugh were so big that nobody who was around him could forget him.

Grandpa telling "Wilbur" - 2005

After his heart attack/stroke and after Grandma passed away, Grandpa was different, but he was definitely still Grandpa. I loved listening to the stories of his voyages to the Pacific Islands and of his work at Geneva Steel. Even though his smiles were not as frequent, I still loved to see them. In fact, the last time that I saw him, (just a few days before he died) my dad and I were saying goodbye to him and I kissed him on the cheek and told him that I loved him. He looked up at me and smiled bigger than I've seen in a long time. He couldn't speak very well, but he told me that he loved me too and watched happily as we left the room. That picture will be with me for the rest of my life.

I can only imagine how much he is smiling now; now that he doesn't ever have to be away from his Sweetheart again, now that he is free from a hindered, mortal body, now that he can help his family from the other side. I look forward to the day when I can see him again.

His funeral was so beautiful. I can't imagine a better tribute to Grandpa's life... it was full of music and the people that he loved. I'm sure he and Grandma enjoyed every minute of it. These are just a few of the pictures that I took. My favorites.

The grave site.

The pallbearers: Allen, Ryan, Rick, Mike, Dave, Jeff, Alex, Nate and Jake

Carrying the casket past the soldiers.

Taking the casket to the grave site.

Taking the flag from the casket.

A soldier presenting the flag to Aunt Vicki.

My brothers, Nate and Jake, going to put their boutonnieres on the casket.

Jake walking away from the casket.

My Grandpa Perry loved Grandpa Dick.

The beautiful casket.

A close-up.

Grandpa's wonderful kids: Kay, Diane, Joan, Tony, Vicki, Jay and Brad.

(Are you proud of me? I can finally tell the twins apart!)

My dad saying one last goodbye.

Nate... doing what he does best.

Little cousin Tiffany.

My family in front of the casket.

Kate and Becca... they look like twins!

Mom and Dad

Grandma and Grandpa's bodies and spirits are finally together.

Tootsie rolls covered the tables at the luncheon.

Thank you, Grandpa, for everything you taught us and did for us. I love you! I can't wait to see you again!