Strawberries and vineyards, oh, my!

I love this valley. It lets me know daily that I love being a California valley girl born and raised. It reassures me that the earth is good and whole and surprising and warm and rejuvenating. I love this valley. I had one of those revelations driving home among the vineyards last week. I know the seasons by the condition of the vines. Harvest is over, and the grape leaves are turning color. There are a few left over grapes hanging cautiously and very lonely, but deep in color on the vines. Some leaves have already begun their fall to that deep brown earth. The vines are becoming exposed to the cooler weather. I love their gnarled wood and expressive lines. More than once I control the urge to pull off Woodbridge Road and really just touch those vines. The stories they could tell and the seasons they've seen. I love this valley. Saturday, my enamored state was punctuated by the Strawberry stand. Now, this wasn't my normal stand that I buy strawberries at because they are "Now Reely Closed". That's what their sign says. This strawberry stand was at a busy corner between Stockton and Lodi at what is called the end or the beginning of our green belt. The Mr. and I stopped, and purchased a half flat for $8.00. Yes, that was a bit more than I usually pay, but this isn't strawberry season. Hopping out of the car I languished just a bit beside the car door to sniff. Oh, my, their juicy -sweet- decidedly- ripened- on- the- vine odor enveloped my impulse buying spree. A half flat of October wonderment mixed with a trunkful of pumpkins, acorn squash, and a dinner or homemade chili and honey cornbread, I had summer one more time. I "Reely" really love this valley.

What a Bummer

Today should have been a day of nothing but smiles. My precious boy was given a very special accolade. It doesn't happen often in this town of good ole boys, and who you know, and are you popular, and were you born and raised here. My teenager is a water polo player, or "baller" according to his teen logic. He was selected by the local newspaper to be athlete of the week. His quotes and picture graced the local front page of the Sports' Section. Needless to say, mom & dad were very proud. His coach, nor any of his team members said congratulations or good job. You see, we are not popular, we are not part of the group, we are not Lodi. I know all of this because the polo team had a carb dinner for their last game tomorrow. It was sad. The Mr. & I came to the house and sure enough, we were on the outside. We helped clean up, helped select the pictures for the end of season banquet, and tried to be pleasant. I know I'm whining again, and the last shall be first, and it really doesn't matter, but you know it's one of those things I want for my kids. I want them to be appreciated for their talents, their individual and unique gifts, and to quote some favorite young people, "mean people suck!" I am a mom who knows the faults of my kids and I unfortunately I'm brutally honest with them and others. But you know when they deserve to be given an "Great Job!" They should be given a huge hug. I am so grateful for the big bro who called little bro and congratulated him. You see, family has to stick up for family. This town makes me nuts some times. Grapes or no Grapes, some of them still have little bitty minds and hearts.

Dennis Hopper

Tonight was was an evening that has begun to define my politics again. Dennis Hopper, a military uniform, and the show E Ring. Years ago as a teenager i joined 7 other friends and went to the drive in movie, the Starlight, to be exact against my parents' wishes and watched Dennis Hopper on a Harley Sportster with Peter Fonda. "Easy Rider" has forever frozen Dennis Hopper in my mind. It was the time when I defined my own anti war sensibilities. Reading the papers and watching the news report on the current milestone of over 2,000 American deaths in the Iraq war, I realized this war is illogical. I realized that even though I have wanted to be supportive of the reasons we are at war and that it is important to maintain Middle East freedoms, it is totally illogical to be involved in a Civil War that has continued to take place over thousands of years. There is no amount of American Capitalism, democracy, or esoteric idealism that is going to win over the car bombers and extremists. In the meantime, the brightest, most creative, most hardworking and loyal of our American youth is sacrificing their lives and the lives of their families for the Iraqi people. It is very bothersome to me. Dennis Hopper, Peter Fonda, Easy Rider, and I as a teenager, college student defined my politcal stance. Belive me I was not a hippie. In fact I was engaged to a Vietnam Vet, Marine Point Man, to be exact long before I met the Mr. 2,000 lives gone, and I am sickened. No I am not Cindy Sheean. She is a grieving mother trying to reconcile the death of her son. Yes I understand that grief, I watched my mom try and reconcile the death of my brother. It's impossible. It takes your sensibilities and strews them over blame, and fault, and ridiculousness, and still you are empty, and stricken. I am flippin 53, and I have rediscovered one part of me that has been dormant. Thank you Mr. Hopper. I will put this energy into supporting the men and women who are serving. I will pray daily for the end of this war. I will pray daily for wisdom, discernment, and common sense for the our leaders in this country. I will write letters, send packages, give encouragement to the military families in our town. I will teach the students in my class to be proud of these military soldiers who serve and to pray for their leaders and for an end to this illogical and un winnable war.

Whew!

Okay, I deleted my previous blog. Why, is not really important. What's important right now is I'm home alone again. It's a good thing I am used to this and was prepared for this future reality by very thoughtful and socially involved parents. My brother and I were 10 years apart and I was mature for a child sooo....I spent quite a bit of time by myself. The teenager has been gone, again, all day. I saw him at church, and for 2 minutes at noon. I think I'm procrastinating paying the bills. 29 years of marriage and this is the job I hate. The Mr. is still in a far off Latin land building, surviving major flooding from tropical storms, the aftermath of a hurricane, and a few after shocks of an earthquake. I think I can face the bills. No, I haven't heard from him, but I'm keeping track of him via the Spanish TV station, Gracias, Univision, KCSO en la ciudad de Modesto. I'm a little melancholy tonight because another girlfriend has been diagnosed with cancer. You know, I want to bear her burden, instead I'm a sounding board, an encourager, and a prayer station. Between, the Mr., the teenager, the new cancers, and my friends dealing with loss, that prayer station is busy 24/7. The good news is the teenager is now lobbying furiously to go to the Rolling Stones concert in November at $165 for an upper level seat at the stadium. Sheeesh! It happens to have a guest appearance of Metallica. Oh, bother, I've always wanted to see the Stones. I think maybe I should go and be a chaperone. Metallica, can stay in its commercialized heavy metal blanket. Sorry, metal heads. I still think it would be awesome to see a 60 year old ex- heroine addict rocking and rolling and letting me hear some music from the STELLAR era of music. I know, I should get with it and be more musically current. I am trying. Just ask my children how inept I am with the new music. I am still trying.