The flight and everything surrounding it went well on Thursday, and we (my brother, sister-in-law, and nephew) spent Friday morning at the doctor’s and then the zoo, the latter of which was lots of fun for everyone.  Friday evening and most of Saturday, the lovely, brilliant theologian Marva Dawn was a guest speaker at a conference hosted by my brother’s church.  That was a great deal of fun as well as being educational and though-provoking, AND my high school English teacher was there, so I got to chat with her for a few minutes.

As if that weren’t enough excitement, on Saturday morning we were all woken by the beeps, clangs, and rumbles of heavy machinery–William is firmly in the phase of fascination with all kinds of trucks, and he stood transfixed for several hours as the men ripped out the old, ugly cement stairs in front of the house.  I say “stood,” but there was also a fair amount of dancing, wiggling, and jumping up and down in excitement.  I took pictures, but they really don’t compare.

Sunday morning and half the afternoon was church, as usual, and then I ran to the grocery store while the house turned into The Napping House, and I made a giant cookie for a dessert pizza that they took to a picnic in the evening.  I, on the other hand, drove up to my parents’ house and had dinner with my parents, grandfather, and aunt and uncle.

Returning to Saturday night, I babysat for William while Nathan and Johanna went out to dinner, and after a screaming bedtime routine, William went to sleep within minutes of my turning out the light.

And then I embarked on the Horrific Computer Transfer.  I didn’t know that’s what it would be when I started.  If I had, I might have made more demands.  You see, I helped my mother switch from Windows to Mac about a year and a half ago, and she’s never been entirely happy with it.  That’s okay–I’ve always acknowledged that there are some people for whom Windows works just fine, and my mom is one of them.

So, since I was planning on being in the area for a while, I offered to help her buy a new PC and switch her files back over while I’m here.

Because I like sticking forks in my eyeballs for fun.

Also, Matt and I get the old MacMini when I go home.  (Yay more computers!)

At any rate, after I put William to bed Saturday night I went about setting up both computers so that I could get down to the work of the switcheroo.  It went well for a while, and then I ran into trouble with transferring files, since I couldn’t get both machines online at the same time with any kind of ease.  So I found a blank cd, burned the files I needed to transfer, and loaded most of them on the new computer.  I knew the email files weren’t going to be very nice, so I saved them for last.

Suffice to say that I am having problems.  There’s not a lot of documentation online about switching from Mac back to PC, and the vast majority of THAT is from OS 10.3 or earlier, which is just ridiculous since we’re on 10.6 now.  Mail files look like mboxes, but aren’t any more; the emlx-to-mbox converter I tried to use didn’t work; and before I even got to that point there were several hours in which I was moderately concerned that I might have lost all my mother’s emails entirely.  That is significant both because she does a lot with email and keeps a lot of things saved there, and also because it would have been an idiotic thing for me, of all people, to do.  I was going to try to convert using Thunderbird as a “translator” since it runs on both platforms, but I have been thwarted at every turn there, too.

I am beginning to seriously consider more drastic (and seriously annoying) actions.  Also, as a pre-emptive strike here, in this entry I have not even begun to give details either on the situation or on what I’ve tried to do (literally just about everything.  I’m more thorough than most people.), so general “have you tried this?” comments probably won’t be greeted with much grace at this point.  If you have extensive experience specifically with moving obstinate Mac Mail version 3.6 files into Windows Mail, feel free to send me a private email.  Otherwise, commiseration and rantings about how idiotic the technology world can be are most welcome from everyone.

That about sums up my visit so far: good times with family, lots of fun, and ongoing desires to scream at computers.

I’ll try to post some photos tomorrow.  In the meantime, look out for an Exciting Announcement!  (Don’t get too excited, though.)

Four years ago, my grandmother died. She was terribly special to me, and I still miss her. In the months following her death, I often found myself thinking I ought to call and tell her this or that, or that I would put it in my next letter, and it always came as a shock that I couldn’t. It still happens from time to time, but nowhere near as often.

There have been a lot of changes in the family in the last four years–marriages, babies, cross-country moves. Life moves forward and takes us with it. The missing is no longer sharp and sudden, but gentle, savored because it also brings memories of traveling and sitting up close at the opera and her exclamations when I described a teammate’s injuries while playing Ultimate frisbee, and the day when she wouldn’t hug me because my dyed hair and painted face alarmed her.

Yes, that really is me.

I don’t think I’ve posted a picture of her before, so here’s one I’ve always liked. I was showing her plans for a quilt.

Three years ago, I wrote a piece in memory of her life, and I read it again every year. In case you’re interested, here it is:

In memoriam

My grandmother died a year ago today. I have not yet attempted to put my thoughts and feelings into words, though the pen or the computer is my preferred method of expression in most cases. At times I question whether I have truly grieved for her, but more often there is a quiet acceptance of her absence. I miss her painfully, at times. I miss her interest and her wisdom. I miss being able to write her letters. I miss sharing my life with her, and hearing her excitement about my crazy ideas. But I also know that she is in a much better place, and I will see her again. I know that she knows about my crazy ideas and is still excited about them.

Let me tell you about her.

My grandmother’s name was Virginia, but no one ever called her that. Her adult friends all called her Ginx, and the family all called her Diji. That’s DIH-gee, not Deejee. How she got the name is a long story, but the end of it was that all of my friends knew my grandparents as Diji and Doc.

Diji’s favorite color was red. She had red blazers and red plaid skirts and red sweaters and red fleece mittens. The wallpaper in the living room was red. Not white with red designs – it was red all over. The couch was always red, and the chairs. Not scarlet red, or old-lady-lipstick red. Deep, rich, warm red. Good red. The carpet was black, and the woodwork was all painted white (“Don’t put your dirty fingerprints on the paint!”), and she always had pictures tucked in her piles of work. Sometimes they were a snapshot that we’d sent recently, and sometimes a photo from my childhood that she’d plucked from an album to remember us.

After her funeral one of our family friends, Rachel, told me a story. She said that she’d been driving by Diji and Doc’s house one day when my brother and I were visiting. I was small, probably only five or six years old, and Diji and I were sitting out in her rocking chair on the front porch. Rachel said that she’d slowed down, intending to call a hello. But Dij had me on her lap, facing her, and we were so deep in conversation that Rachel said she couldn’t bring herself to intrude on that moment. I remember those times, head to head with Dij, sitting on the front porch. I have no idea what in the world I could have been talking about – I was only five, after all – but she had stopped all of her other activities to listen to me.

She did that for my entire life. Dij always had time to talk, and always wanted to hear what I was thinking or learning about.

I began writing letters to her in the summer before my sophomore year of college. We wrote almost every week for four years. I miss that desperately. I miss reading about the farmers’ market and how quickly Doc’s bread sold this week. I miss someone asking how my latest quilting project is coming along. I wish that I could have taped her most common responses, so that I would be able to play them back when I miss her most.

I wish that she had been able to be there for the wedding, that I could have handed her my bouquet in honor of her own marriage. I wish that I could have hugged her one last time. I wish that she had been able to see the quilt that I made for Matt’s wedding gift – the quilt for which she helped to pay, helped to finish. I wish that she could have been there, but I know that she knew that I had found my match. She lived to see all of her grandchildren paired with equal partners, and that is more important.

I remember the way that music was something spiritual to her, and how she could hardly get through singing some of the hymns on Sunday morning because she felt their meaning more than most did. She was a phenomenal organist, and played for many years. She loved to see her love of music echoed in her grandchildren. She was so proud of me at my senior voice recital. They were late because of traffic, but I made everyone wait until she was there before I started. I couldn’t have done it without her there. It just wouldn’t have been right.

There are many times when I know that I will wish that she were still here in this world – when my children are born, when we buy our first house, when I publish a book. There will be many times, good and bad, when I will reach for her advice and find that I must do my best without it.

On the morning when Diji passed away, she was in the hospital. My mother and grandfather got phone calls from the doctors that they should come as soon as possible – and they did, but by the time they got there, she was gone. Mom said that she looked just as though she were sleeping. I think that she could have held on long enough to see them – but she had already said her goodbyes, and she was never one to make a scene.

She didn’t dwell on her own passing, and I don’t think she wanted us to, either. After all, she is only sleeping. And some day, we will all wake, and rise to meet once again in the skies.

She will meet my children and invite them to sit in her lap as I once did, and I will get that hug. And for that, it is worth looking forward more often than we look back.

We had a lovely turkey dinner with all the fixins this afternoon, complete with entertainment by my nephew and my grandfather’s new dog Molly, who is almost as cute as Shiloh. Yum yum. (The turkey is yum, not the dogs.)

But I’m also pretty tired, because we’ve been helping my brother and sister-in-law settle into their new house, which needs both unpacking and repair/remodeling work rightnow. It’s a lot of fun, but also involves more brainpower and physical effort than, say, lying on the couch all weekend.

I’ve also made very good progress on the second quilt project, but I had a minor disaster earlier tonight when I, through sheer carelessness, cut myself with the rotary blade. Imagine a pizza slicer with a precision razor-blade for an edge and you’ll get the picture of the weapon I was wielding. Luckily, it was a glancing blow and only lifted open about 1/2-inch of flesh (1/4-inch deep) on my left thumb. It’s even on a section of thumb that is both easily bandaged AND not very bendy, which means there’s a decent chance it will heal quickly. But blood has been shed. And then, being the go-get-’em gal that I am, I continued working on the quilt and executed three (count ‘em) three rather major mistakes. Luckily, they all have to do with the binding, which I wasn’t terribly happy with anyway. I have plenty of extra fabric for binding, and this gives me a very valid reason to pull it all off and start over on it. So it’s sort of good, except that I feel very silly.

And now, since it’s past my bedtime in Colorado and I’m currently in the land that lives two hours ahead of Colorado, I think it’s time I turned in for the night.

Plus, now I have an entourage to care for my pitifulness, because believe me, I intend to be quite pitiful.We are about one hour from DOOM. And by DOOM I mean, of course, the pulling of wisdom teeth.

My plan for the day beyond that is to sleep and watch Pride and Prejudice and then maybe sleep some more. If I get really ambitious, I might read. And that’s about it.

See you on the other side of wisdom.

In the “Fun Things We’ve Done In Ohio” category, we’ve had a very nice time visiting with family in from all over the country, and tonight I got to talk with what seems like a Who’s Who from my formative years. My brother is now officially the Reverend Nathan Wright (woohoo!), and my nephew is still the cutest little boy ever. Also, I’ve slept more than I thought possible, and eaten an impressive amount of food as well.

Oh yeah, and Friday night we spent 11pm-1am up in the rafters above the garage, drilling holes in the plasterboard ceiling and shoveling soaked insulation into buckets so the whole ceiling wouldn’t collapse. It seems water froze in one of the air conditioner’s condensation drainage pipes there and a big section of PVC pipe exploded and had probably been leaking for several weeks. Fun times, that. At least we were here to do the climbing around in the crawlspace – I don’t particularly want to think about Mom and Dad trying that on their own.

The lesson? Always support the full length of PVC pipes when they’re exposed to heat and cold. Good to know.

One more day here, and then we’re back to Colorado. It’ll be good to be home.

Yesterday was our three year wedding anniversary. (Woohoo! Go us!) I spent most of it cleaning and doing laundry, and packing for our trip to Ohio this weekend. Model wife, eh? If only. 

At any rate, I’m working half a day today and then going home for last-minute packing and heading out to the airport. I hate taking evening flights headed east, but flying when we are saved us $200 each, so that’s the trade-off. At least it’s a direct flight today.

We’ll be in Ohio over the weekend – on Sunday my brother will be ordained and installed as the associate pastor of a church in Cincinnati, so it’s turned into something of a whole-family event. Speaking of Nathan’s new church, the senior pastor there keeps a great blog, so head on over and say ‘Hi’ to Russell Smith if you’re so inclined. 

And for those of you who miss Shiloh’s antics, here’s another of her favorite activities:

Notice that she uses the laser dot to get going and stay motivated, but once she’s running, she doesn’t bother with trying to catch it. She’s too smart for that. Or so she’d like us to think.

I’ll try to post over the weekend, but if I don’t, have a lovely couple of days without me! 

Well, dear readers, I would love to go to Disney World! Please contact me for information on the Betsy Goes To Disney Fund and the many convenient ways you can donate.

In the meantime, I’ve kept a lot of projects on the proverbial back burner for far too long. Speaking of the back burner, has anyone else ever wondered how big a stove would have to be to contain all of their metaphorically postponed projects? Mine would be, like, three miles long, with one front burner and all the rest in the back. These are the sorts of things I think about.

There are several stories I’d like to twiddle with, and I’ve neglected practicing my writing lately (for an explanation far more coherent than mine would be, go here), so there will be some “play” writing happening, just to see what develops.

Also, I’ve had a hankering to do some quilting, which is my most neglected hobby as of late. I spent this afternoon twiddling with designs for two projects I’ve been mulling over for a while in spare moments, then pulled out the boxes that currently house my fabric stash and actually found almost everything I need for one of the projects right there in my closet. I’m not sure if I’ll post pictures of my progress on the quilts, since I’m pretty sure their recipients drop in and read the blog on occasion, and I’d rather have them be surprised. But those are in the works, and I’ll probably mention them from time to time.

I’ve still got books for my fantasy challenge to read before I go out to residency, and I’ve gotten behind on the reading journals again as of late, so that’s on the list. Oh, and I should read all the books I’ve borrowed from friends, so they can have their books back and I look less like a slacker reader.

Otherwise, we’re flying to Ohio this weekend for my big brother’s ordination and installation at a church in Cincinnati, and I’ll be enjoying a few weeks in which I’m not allowed to think about the novel. When the school term picks up at the end of this month, I’ll head into full-on revisions and edits.

Finally, I intend to admire my new suitcase, which is bright red (my grandmother would be proud), hard-sided, and destined to serve me for at least the next 20 years. I’m thinking of putting stickers on it as a sort of mobile travel-log of the places I’ve visited.

Astute observers of my last week’s activities might put forward the idea that I hit the AAAAAH! phase quite a while ago, but a girl’s allowed to live in denial now and again, and apparently last week was a denial week. On the up side (humor me here) I have made lists. One is a list of Things I Need To Remember To Take To Ohio On Thursday. There are 12 items listed, none of which are things I would normally pack (there’s another list for that). These items are things like gifts and books I’ve borrowed and books I’m taking to let my parents borrow and all the info for me to file our taxes (who? me? procrastinate? never!).

The other major list is the list of Things I Need To Do Before I Leave. This includes “RSVP to everything” (two weddings and a baby shower so far, unless I’ve lost something) and “do the laundry”, which has officially moved to high priority since Matt informed me that he only has one pair of clean underwear left. I was hoping I could hold out on laundry until Wednesday night, giving me the greatest range of clean clothing to pack, but alas and alack, I will have to dress strategically for the next three days instead.

I also need to write the whole month’s worth of pages for the novel, but who’s counting? There’s something to be said for a time crunch… we’ll just hope that this time around, that something is positive rather than negative.

On the up side, Thursday is both my nephew William’s 6-month birthday AND the day I will meet him for the first time. Happy happy! I’m looking forward to the chance to spend time with family in the next week, even if there will be less down time than I originally expected. It will be worth it.

Even if there is a lot of AAAAAH! beforehand.

Many congrats to Nathan and Johanna – and thanks for the birthday present, even if it is a day early!

I have yet to see a picture, but I’m sure it won’t be long.  He can’t be anything but beautiful.

I’m an Aunt!  I’m an Aunt!