BACK in the saddle, again!

Hello, dear readers. Tired of the same old posts? Finished going back to the beginning and reading all the misadventures? Gotten all caught up on this blog? Can't wait for more? You may have to. Haven't really been anywhere, done anything...

Except, welcome home my daughter from Japan (see Daddy Dayton's Southern Comfort: Celebrations!); help throw my mother an 85th birthday party, together with my two sisters; (actually two birthday parties - one small "family" celebration) Table scape. Free advertising: Barbara's Champaign Cakes are the BEST if you are in Des Moines. She makes mini filled champaign cupcakes that just pop in your mouth.
There were almost 100 people there. About that many more couldn't come long distance.
Mom, on the right, got to reune with a number of "old" friends.

Saw my son married to a wonderful young woman.

That's the photo with the grandparents.
My two boys.
I just loved this picture.

Went to Indiana to find my daughter an apartment (after the birthday party, before the wedding); moved her to Indiana after the wedding. Came home for about 10 days during which I pulled up the carpeting on the stairs to the basement and the family room; got new carpet laid in same. Hero hubby's aunt died and we went to the funeral Labor Day weekend; had houseguests for that. Went BACK to Indiana on Labor Day, alone; moved my daughter OUT of the apartment she was originally put in, and to a different apartment in the same complex. Long story. Collapsed for two weeks when I got home. Literally. And figuratively. Bounced back for two weeks during which I created some amazing items from my antique Japanese fabrics; finished up some projects; collapsed again for about a week; bounced back again. Started learning how to do sashiko embroidery; started learning how to do more creative applique work (which I used to disdain, sorry applique lovers); started learning how to do crazy quilting, all leading up to something wonderful which will coalesce out of all this learning, incorporating all of these arts. I will devote another blog entirely to what I have created. And now, for something

completely

different.

I'm tired.

Motoko

Here is another update on Motoko-chan. We talked on the phone not long after her packages arrived.
Motoko-chan was born in 1930 (so she is 78, not 60-something as I originally thought). She lived in Hiroshima when the bomb dropped. All she had to say about that was "it was terrible". I'll bet. Then they shipped her off to the countryside in the Kansai province.
Piecing that together with some other things, like the fact that she has only been in the States for 14 years, and was in England before that in "a sanitarium" (at some point), I would gather that living through the bombing of Hiroshima was rather horrible and life changing. Yet, here she is. In love with America and Americans. Go figure.
That would explain Motoko-chan's (if it is acceptable for me to be so familiar with her) poor English. My gosh, she came here when she was 64. If I had to speak in a new language and learn it well at the age of 64 -- well! Should I be so spry.
What humbles me is that she chose me to connect with after all these years. Thirteen hours on a plane. That's all. And she decided I was one she could connect with. Am I the only "young" one who would take the time to listen to and speak with her? I know she has friends, or at least acquaintances, at the Senior Center in the town in which she lives.
I'm scared of the responsibility. Each time I "collect" a person, I seem to let the ball drop and I know it disappoints them. It disappoints me.
So, what do I do with the responsibility she's passed on to me? What about the futon and the other items? Why does this haunt me? (Okay, I know why -- rhetorical question.)

I still have a honking big box in my [now dry] basement and I just don't know what to do with it!

Waiting with my puppy

Okay. This is it. Why do we place such importance on the arrival of someone? Because we have a connection to them and want to reconnect. Not the umbilicus but the life, the relationship, the friendship, the HUGS.
Hammering out relationship with one's adult offspring is like walking a mine field blindfolded. Once a mother, always a mother. It just won't go away, no matter how hard one tries. On the one hand, a certain amount of mothering is expected, if not required. On the other hand, a certain amount of restraint is required, if not expected.
We are expecting our daughter to be in country from her two year stint in Japan. Countdown is down to hours, not days, now. Except, we can't pick her up for a couple more days. (!) Okay. Time to tell the mother to chill. She's an adult. She has adult relationships. Good thing she's independent. Has a life outside Mom and Dad. WAH. WAH WAH. WAAAAAHHH.
I know that we will drive her crazy within 3 days of her living in our house. She will drive us crazy within 10 days. (The parent factor extends the crazy factor by 66%, evidently. Look it up.) The only one who won't drive her crazy will be the dog. And he will, eventually. Drive her crazy. He's just so NEEDY. Cute, but needy.
As the countdown continues, and my fingernails dwindle, all I can do is wait. And wonder - will that parent factor actually extend the crazy factor by 66% or is it much, much lower?
We'll see, won't we?