Satisfaction

Unlike Mick Jagger, satisfaction fills our week. This week includes a Thanksgiving that lived up to its name, the birthday of our oldest son, and our 35th anniversary. I am smiling just thinking about it. I hardly feel 35 years old myself!
We came up to our son's house in Chandler and celebrated the holiday here with our oldest daughter, our son Steven, Charlie and Leslie, and Leslie's family. And it felt like family--comfortable, relaxed, everyone helping themselves to the food, wandering in and out like one big family--which we are!
Maren and her sweetheart Justin came over on Friday bringing Justino's dad's famous pecan pies. A friend of Megan's stopped in for pie. The dinner was traditional and delicious. Turkey sandwiches and desserts filled the house following the main meal and should carry on through the weekend. Shopping was moderate--no Black Friday frenzy. The brothers went golfing. The movies were all good at the mall and on DVDs. And the guys are going shooting in the morning. a
And then we are heading south and home. Wow. That sounds like more than enough for a month of fun. But Sunday our oldest son turns 31, and even though he is far away, it will be another happy day. We love him and miss him. Next year maybe we can celebrate with him.
Then, Monday we'll have to celebrate again--just the 2 of us, because 35 years is a long time, but it has gone by very quickly, and I am very happy to be celebrating with the man I love still, or is it the man I still love? Either way will do.
As if that isn't enough Charlie will be 30 five days after our 35th, and Christmas is just around the corner.
Morris and Seung Hee and Graham called on Skype and shared Thanksgiving dinner, eating their turkey in NYC while we ate here in AZ. That was just great too. It was so funny to see them and hear them and vice versa almost like they were in the room, but sitting over at the kids table. Wow.
I think I'm going to need a vacation, but right now I need to wipe the smile off my face and go to sleep. Ciao bellos. Love you all.

Home Sweet Home

View from the back door

View from the front door

Baby tortoises at Charlies, under the red heat lamp--only a few of his brood. . . .

View from the driveway into the garage!

Home again, home again jiggity, jig.

We went to Chandler, visited with Charlie. Fun was had! and now we are home. Clean sheets on the bed. Cool morning air.

Been searching on line for another kidnapping victim in the Colonias. Not a word anywhere. Nobody sees anything. Nobody reports a word. But someone is missing.
Shhhh.

Nothing new under the sun . . .

Nothing to do, nothing to do.

Put some mustard in your shoe. . .

Why would you even try that? Doesn't it sound kind of yucky and squishy? It must be one of those days.

And there it is again. That good looking solar array which is actually non functioning and being taken apart.

Why doesn't every house in Arizona have Solar Power? How about solar power now instead of health care reform?

Just a thought.

Stop the negativity.

Well the government has one thing right, all this negativity can just bring a person down. So, I was thinking about how in some small way we, the little people could help. Take the unemployment Czar--that may not be his title, what do you think? UN-employment is negative. Maybe he is the Jobs Creation Czar, but really most people are more concerned simply with keeping the job they have than with job creation. Most people fear being "let go."
And think about it, let go has terrible connotations. The fear of falling is one of our inborn fears. Infants are born with an instinctive response to being "let go." It conjures up images of the abyss, the lifeline suddenly severed--no one wants to be let go.
We used to get fired. What was that about. Very violent. Now most of us face being RIF'ed--reduced in force. There it is again: Force, Fired. What? Is the Jobs Creation Czar straight out of the military? Really can't we come up with a less violent term than Force. Almost everybody who has been let go, fired, RIF'ed knows they were Forced from the job.
So, I think I may have the answer here--a completely neutral term that will allow people to leave with dignity: Reduction in Personnel. Yep RIP. Doesn't that sound better, more peaceful.
RIP all you who face a coming job loss (sorry).
Remember, to all the 10.2% of Americans; wait, we'd better make that 10.3%, no, 10.4%, wait--well you get the picture . . .
RIP

Cruz Roja

Don't you think Cruz Roja could be a character in a book. Really she is the Red Cross.
Mike and I both donated blood last night. When they stuck the needle into my vein blood spurted onto the red cross worker--Miss Roja--, onto the table, and all over my nicest huipil blouse from Oaxaca. I knew I shouldn't have worn a shirt to donate blood. But, what is one to do. The poor Ms Cruz was very apologetic.
I said, No worries, I can clean blood out of white cotton no problemo. (I figured why should both of us worry about my ruined shirt.)
Fortunately that turned out to be true--the cleaning blood out part. And now my shirt is once again bright white and beautiful (except for the colorful embrodery, which was always beautiful and not blood stained.)
I am sorry I do not have a picture, let alone a before and after picture. But believe me, it was not a pretty sight. I think several people waiting in line may have gotten up and left the building! Including Elvis.