The joys and duties of being a grandparent

Over the years I have realized, with some chagrin, that it's the grandparents' responsibility to attend any function at which any grandchild shines. I spent endless hours waiting for Maddie, my oldest grandchild, to have her brief moment on the ballet stage--gosh those programs were long. Now, she plays basketball like a pro, and I'm sure ballet is far from her mind. I'm not a sports fan, but I have been to basketball games, soccer games, baseball games, and one tai kwondo lesson. When it's your grandchild, you cheer.
When my kids graduated from elementary school, I thanked the stars that school carnivals, PTA (or PTO or whatever) and the like were behind me. A single working mom, I didn't feel as obligated as I had in elementary school to participate in those things. Yes, I went to open houses to dutifully meet with the teachers, but my kids pretty much fended for themselves--and did a darn fine job of it--in middle and elementary school.
So far I have not had to go to carnivals and open houses, but I am expected each grade's annual program as Jacob progresses through elementary school. Tonight was the second grade program, a musical called "Stone Soup," and he was one of the "stars"--three speaking lines.
I fixed supper so everyone could rush across the street to the school. As Jordan and I did dishes, she said, "You don't have to go, you know," and I replied, "His feelings would be hurt if I didn't." And she said, "That wasn't a sincere offer of a way out." But she and Christian were as excited as Jacob about the program.

And it was cute, no question about it. The kids were full of bounce and enthusiasm. I could barely make out a word they said (I know Jacob's lines by now) but just watching them was a joy.
This is a blurry picture of Jacob delivering one of his lines. At first I thought he was having trouble holding his britches up but then I realized he was doing sort of a Michael Jackson move. Mr. Cool! A friend of mine says if we'd put him on the stage the rest of us could retire. Not sure about that, but I wouldn't be surprised to see him take to theater. His daddy was a child model and in several TV programs. So maybe the spotlight is where Jacob belongs.
I'm both relieved and sad that my six other grands live too far away for me to attend their school programs and the like. Just deliver me from carnivals and cake walks, please.

A blog after long silence

Kauai at its lush, green best

Okay, the title of this blog is a silly take-off on the W. B. Yeats' poem, "Speech After Long Silence," a poem I remember writing a paper on in graduate school, fabricating a whole scene of a married couple who hadn't spoken to each other for years because they had nothing to say. That's sort of where I was with the blog this week: I had nothing much to say.

It’s been back to routine around here—Hawaii too far behind me, Jacob back in school so we’re doing homework every afternoon. What I thought would be a long week of stay-home-and-work days turned out not to be so. Lunches with three friends, and dinner at the Old Neighborhood Grill two nights in a row—ate a turkey burger each night. Think that craving is squelched for a while. Tonight I fixed chicken with a yogurt sauce for the Burtons and everyone had their own veggie—broccoli for Jacob because he loves it (or did until tonight), leftover zucchini for me, a salad for Jordan, and either salad or green beans for Christian. But Christian didn’t show up until it was time to be off to the school for Jacob’s first-grade program. He had one line, which he delivered masterfully. We just wished he would have smiled more the whole time. Sent dinner home with Christian.

Speaking of zucchini, it’s funny how a vacation can make you forget your routine. Once back, I bought zucchini when I grocery shopped. Rattling around in my mind was the notion that I’d found a way to cook it that I really liked—I just couldn’t remember what it was, so the zucchini sat. I was about to get out my file of vegetable recipes when I remembered: grate it, sauté in butter briefly, add salt and pepper. So easy and so good.
Today I downloaded the rest of the Hawaii pictures from my camera. When I got home, I got out the cord that connects camera to computer and found it had been chewed—who could have done that? Sophie isn’t talking. So, at a cost of $50-plus, I ordered a new one. It came yesterday and I retrieved the pictures. What I’d had so far were from my phone or Jordan’s phone.
Spent a good part of this week buried in a book—Faith Bass Darling’s Last Garage Sale. Look for the review on Story Circle Book Reviews soon, and I’ll try to post a review on Goodreads. I loved this book. It will make you laugh, look at your own life, and cry for Faith and her loved ones.
Next project: edits on the second Blue Plate Mystery, tentatively titled Murder at Tremont House. Catch up on Kate Chambers’ adventures from the beginning by reading Murder at the Blue Plate Café.

Let the good times roll!