by jphilo | Jul 6, 2012 | Family
Last weekend, Mom kicked several items off her bucket list. One of them was attending a baby shower for her first great-grandchild who will be born in September. The second item on her list, a wish for her first great-grandchild to be born on Great-Grandma’s birthday (September 3), is in wait-and-see mode. It’s also in not-too-likely mode since Baby Philo’s projected due date is September 21.
But thanks to the efforts of her oldest daughter, also known as my big sister, Mom kicked two other items off her bucket list. She accomplished one of them on Saturday night when we took her to Jax Cafe in north Minneapolis so she could eat lobster for the first time.
She didn’t blink at the size of the lobster, perhaps because she knew both her sons-in-law were ready and willing to clean up what she couldn’t eat. She also didn’t blink at the size of her bill, easily the most she’s spent on a single meal in her life, perhaps because we warned her ahead of time. Nor did she balk about leaving a good tip for the waitress who patiently instructed her in the finer points of disassembling and eating the critter.
Her comment when the meal was done?
It was good, but I don’t think I’ll eat another one.
Hmmm….maybe she did blink a little at the size of the bill.
Then on Sunday, she kicked the final item off this weekend’s bucket list. She visited Kairong Liu, a very successful Chinese artist who lives and works in the Minneapolis area.
Mom and Kairong go way back. He was an international student who studied at Westmar College in Le Mars, Iowa during the late 1970s and early 1980s. Someone at the college called Mom and asked if she would tutor Kairong in English. She said yes, he came for his first lesson wearing a suit and tie to impress his new teacher, and Kairong became a fixture in our family for the next four years. Then he went off to graduate school at Vermillion, South Dakota, and we lost track of him.
Except that my sister, who lives in the Minneapolis area, saw his works exhibited in some area art shows over the years. So when Mom said she’d like to see her former student, Sis located him via the internet, and arranged Sunday’s visit.
I don’t know who was more delighted to see who, Mom or Kairong. He spent an hour showing her around his studio, where he stores and displays over 500 of his paintings. She learned about his family, and he caught up on hers. Then he took us to 98 Pounds, his favorite Twin Cities Chinese buffet. (It is also now our favorite Chinese buffet. If you’re ever in the Twin Cities, check it out!)
The buffet didn’t run out of food and we didn’t run out of conversation, but after 2 hours together, we did run out of time. Before saying our reluctant good-byes, Kairong presented Mom with a signed print of one of his landscapes.
She beamed.
He smiled.
Everybody else got a little teary.
When we took Mom back to my brother’s home, she handed him the poster and said, “Get this framed and decide where to hang it.” She didn’t blink when we told her it would be expensive. Instead, she shrugged and said, “Do it.”
My brother and I grinned, realizing Mom had crossed one more item off her bucket list. For the first time we could remember, she placed more value on a beautiful experience than on money.
“I’ll get right on it,” he said.
She beamed.
He smiled.
I got a little teary.
Life doesn’t get any better than this.
by jphilo | Feb 28, 2012 | Out and About
After a long day of travel to points south, I’ve come to the following conclusions:
- Nothing beats leaving your coat in the car when your nephew drops you off at the Minneapolis airport as the first flakes of an oncoming snowstorm fall around you.
- When your seat is behind four midwestern, middle-aged women waaay pumped about flying to Florida in February, their enthusiasm is not contagious. Not to you or to the lone, long suffering, elderly man sitting in their row.
- Traveling with your sister, brother-in-law and husband means you never have to freshen up alone, but there’s always someone to watch the luggage while you do.
- If airplane seats get much smaller, average-sized Americans will need to double book to fit in them.
- Yes, I am the woman from the Atlanta airport who plunged through the subway doors as they were closing. But only for the good of our entire party. What would they have done if we’d gotten separated? Who would have gotten them lost then?
- Savannah, Georgia is lovely, even when you arrive after dark. Especially when you don’t need a jacket.
- After a day of travel, I’m a blithering idiot. Time to sign off. Good night, y’all.
by jphilo | May 13, 2011 | Out and About
This week has been a memorable one. Even though I’m closing in on fifty-five and can’t remember nearly as much as in my whipper snapper days, it’s kind of hard to forget…
- Sitting through your first tornado warning at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis.
- Zipping through the Twin Cities on confusing freeways and arriving at the destination on time and in one piece.
- Pleading my case with a Costco service manager and walking away satisfied.
- Seeing two dear college friends for the first time in too many years.
- Driving home through a dizzying variety of weather – heavy rain and cold temperatures, gloomy skies and moderate temperatures, clear skies and stifling temperatures.
But there are memories yet to come in this busy week. Tomorrow our daughter graduates from Northwester College in Orange City, Iowa. So in a few hours Hiram and I are driving that direction. To get ready for the big occasion, I have…
- Unpacked and repacked.
- Gone grocery shopping for a meal at my cousin’s house after graduation.
- Done the prep work for the tapioca fruit salad Anne requested be part of the meal.
- Made a German chocolate cake to celebrate our son’s May 23rd birthday, since he and our new daughter will be at graduation, too.
- Stared at the wall trying to decide what day it is. Oh yeah, Friday the 13th.
This rolling stone’s aging body wants to stay home, but not as much as her mind wants to join the family to celebrate our daughter’s accomplishment. But before we leave this afternoon, me and the hubby will take a short nap.
Old stones roll a little easier once they gather a little moss for the road.
by jphilo | May 11, 2011 | Out and About
Last night my sister and I went to the Minneapolis Guthrie Theater production of the comedy classic, Arsenic and Old Lace. You know, the one with the two little old lady maiden aunts who take in lonely, old men as borders. Once they determine the denominational affiliation of the boarders, they offer them elderberry wine laced with poison. Then, they bury the bodies in the cellar, after conducting a funeral service in keeping with the deceased religious leanings. The aunts and their nephew, Teddy, call the cellar Panama. Cause Teddy believes he’s Theodore Roosevelt and obediently digs graves in Central America whenever the aunts turn up another yellow fever victim.
Of course, the Guthrie’s production was just a wee bit better than the high school and community theater productions I’ve seen. The Guthrie troupe added an extra dash of excitement when the loudspeaker system aired a tornado warning part way through the first act. True professionals, the actors finished the act without missing a beat. The audience members stayed in their seats, as instructed by a loud speaker announcement once the actors left the stage. I don’t know why the others didn’t head to lower ground, but the penny pinching roots my sister and I share kept us in our seats. We intended to get full value from our discounted, rush seats, by golly. Periodically, reassuring updates came over the loudspeaker.Once in a while my sister said, “I want to go to Panama.” Other than that and a vigilant watch for airborne old ladies riding bicycles, we weathered the storm with great dignity. Once the storm passed, the performance resumed, and a good time was had by all.
At least until I remembered my previous theater-going experience in April. During a performance at our daughter’s college, we heard rain pounding on the roof. Then my cousin received a text from her husband at home 20 miles away: Tornado warnings & hail all around. Check weather before u come home. The bad weather missed us, but I see a disturbing trend developing here? So what do you think?
Should I warn people who invite me to the theater?
Or should I deflect bad weather by suggesting we skip theater and rent Red Box movies?
Or should I register as an early weather alert system?
I could notify the nearest National Weather Service any time a theater performance is on my schedule. Then they could issue a tornado warning and suggest that everyone immediately seek shelter in Panama.
It has possibilities, don’t you think?
by jphilo | Sep 30, 2010 | Out and About
Yesterday, I swam in waters unfamiliar to this midwestern woman. I flew from Minneapolis to Chicago in the morning, attended a meeting, and then returned to Minneapolis. In some circles, that’s called “flying for business.” In my circles, it’s called “Jolene, don’t you go gettin’ the big head.”
Not much chance of that happening, since I’m still wide-eyed and white-knuckled after navigating the Minneapolis freeway system on my own and riding the light rail train for the first time. None of that would have happened without my big sister accompanying me for a test drive of the route the night before and providing hospitality this week. Since we were raised in the same anti-hoopla circle, she made sure I got where I was going and kept a sharp eye out for any sign of ”gettin’ the big head.”
Good thing she’s around, keeping me from getting too big for my britches, since yesterday’s trip included some hoity-toity traveling companions. To be specific, the Viking Cheerleaders. They’re expensive haircuts, dark tans, French nails, toned bodies and perky attitudes almost rendered the purple proclamation “I’m a Viking Cheerleader” on their tight, skimpy, neon-yellow tee shirts unnecessary. Still, it was good to have the hunch confirmed.
So you know, the cheerleaders traveled in economy seating with the rest of us peons. And they had trouble finding space for their carry on luggage in the overhead bins along with the rest of us peons. In fact, one of them confess this to the stewardess. “We’re going to Iraq to do a USO show for the troops, and the bags have all our costumes and pompoms, in case the rest of our luggage gets lost.”
Well, those words wiped away any smugness I was feeling about not filling the bins with my carry on luggage, beings I was doing a day trip. The rest of the way to Chicago, I tried to reconcile the idea of their skimpy outfits and toned bodies with their destination. I’m thinking they have burkas in their back packs….dark purple emblazoned with the yellow neon proclamation, “I’m a Vikings Cheerleader,” and sporting strategically placed, sparkly pompoms.
Nothing like flying with altruistic Viking Cheerleaders to me keep from getting the big head about my first, and perhaps only, jet setting business trip. same day. Proximity to cheerleaders has always been an effective way to their strengths and my weaknesses.
Some things never change.
