Home for Christmas

"Gee, Toto, I don't think we're in Phoenix anymore."
-- Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz

OK, so maybe I used a little creative license when citing this classic quote, but I'm sure the fictional Dorothy could relate to the surreal feeling of waking up to a warm and sunny day, flying 1,500 miles through cloud-laced skies and then landing in the snowy flat midwest terrain - all in a few hours time.

It's possible, I've discovered to feel at home in two distinct places,
to love the life you lead, the person you are and the people you see.
How lucky to wake up in Phoenix and see a lake, mountains, palm trees.
How lucky to wake up in Hinsdale and see our parklike backyard transformed into a winter wonderland.













The beauty of the Christmas season is displayed in unique ways.
In Phoenix, we were awed by twinkling cactus, glowing palm trees and bright snowflakes hanging from mesquite trees.
In Hinsdale, I love spotlights on the snow, candles in the windows, snow covered creches and gently falling flakes.
Most of all, I love knowing that a babe was born in a manger to a humble and faithful mother who believed in the power of God and the destiny of her child.

Snowbirds On the Move

It's been really amazing waking up to this view every morning for 14 days. We "moved in" on

November 21 and since then have celebrated a wonderful Thanksgiving with family and friends, Katie's 20th birthday and Nick's 24th birthday. I feel so fortunate to be with my children on those special days. If this is a dream, I don't want to wake up!

The trip from Hinsdale to Phoenix was uneventful. Jeff, my mother and I departed home at 6 a.m. on a Thursday morning in a van packed wall to wall and to the ceiling with patio lounge chairs, trikes, boxes of kitchen stuff, suitcases and Ozzie in his kennel. We made it to Oklahoma City the first night. We crossed over into Arizona just as the sun was setting on Friday, stopped in Flagstaff for dinner with Katie and friends, then slept at Dean and Brenda's in Phoenix that night.

Nick joined us at the new house on the Saturday before Thanksgiving to unpack the van and set up the kitchen,where Ozzie quickly made himself at home. He was a curious kitty exploring inside...

and out. Most days he only goes as far as his leash will stretch. The few times we've let him run loose, he hightails it to the neighbors' yards on either side - even the one with Rocky the barking dog.

Jeff and I agreed that we feel like we're on vacation. Even Katie said she felt like we were staying at a resort. Life certainly feels different where it's warm and sunny in December and you can fish right in your own backyard.

California-bound

After switching planes in Denver on our way to Sacramento, Jeff and I took off to a magnificent sight!

We assumed we were flying over Vail, but after checking the Internet, I discovered that the scene below was most likely the Continental Divide, and quite possibly the Loveland Ski area, which opened the very next day on October 7, the earliest opening day in 40 years!

Just as suddenly we came upon Lake Tahoe, a gorgeous alpine jewel shared by Nevada and California. Photos from the air can't capture the size and breathtaking beauty of the lake and its environs.

Tahoe is one of my most favorite places, winter or summer, and a place we used to visit often when we lived out west. My first glimpse of Tahoe came in winter 1976. Jeff and I drove there after Christmas from his family's home in Woodland. He bought me a plane ticket from Phoenix to Sacramento so I could meet his parents. My father didn't want me to go. My mother encouraged me to go. She thought I would come home with a ring. I didn't - but we were still married the following July.

The last time we were by the lake was in Summer, 1999. We drove over to King's Beach from our Donner Lake vacation house. Nick and Katie played in the sand and water with their cousins Jared, Chase and Bryant.

We visited Squaw Valley with Anne Marie and Tom in February 1987 when Nicholas and Samantha were toddlers. There were many great times before that at Cousins Dotty and Dwain's cabin. But one of the most unexpected trips was when we drove Jeff's new Mustang convertible up from Southern California because the car came with, of all things, three days and two nights in Lake Tahoe. How did they know?

Writing this blog has made me view the world with photographic eyes. Sights that appeared ordinary before are taking on a new glamour, simply because I may want to write about them. How many times have we flown into Sacramento? I can't begin to count! How many pictures have I taken? None!

How cool to see the winding river with rice fields on either side -

like a patchwork quilt with a crazy ribbon running through the middle.

The earth takes on a whole new dimension from the sky.

Taking pictures almost makes flying fun again.

iChat for Ozzie Cat

The door to Katie's room is always open now. The bed stays made. Everything is in its place like a movie set waiting for the main character to arrive and breathe life into the scene. I wondered what Ozzie thinks about Katie's absence. From his earliest days in our home, he played in her room with ribbons and keychains, bags and shoes. He cuddled on her pillow and sat on her laptop. Now Katie's away at college and he misses her.

A few Sundays ago, he sat in my lap for 45 minutes and listened to her voice while we ichated on our Macs. He focused on the screen a bit, but mainly just sat contentedly in my arms like Katie was in the room with us.

A couple days later,

Ozzie ventured into Katie's room

and slept on her bed until

I disturbed him taking a photo.

I believe he connected the "Katie"

on the computer monitor with

his "sister" and found comfort

in her room. Does that mean Ozzie

misses Katie. Ubetcha! And it's safe

to say, Katie misses Ozzie too.

Mellow yellow summer

I wanted to post these photos all summer and here it is the last day before autumn. I was fascinated by the canaries in our yard and tried time and again to take a photo but...

Every time I'd run to get the camera, they'd fly away - so I'd keep the camera handy.

Then when I opened the back door, they'd fly away - so I tried sneaking around from the front, but they saw me.

Finally on August 15, two days before we left for Arizona to take Katie back to college, I photographed this lone canary from the kitchen window. He struck some nice poses and was a pretty obliging subject as he feasted on coneflower seeds. The coneflowers are past their prime now and the canaries are gone from my view, replaced by the constant activities of squirrels running up the trees across the yard and over the roof. I wonder how easy squirrels are to photograph.

Mother Nature Puts On A Show

How hot and satisfying the "cowboy" coffee tasted after a fairly good night's sleep at the farm! The air was cool, the dew was on the grass and the morning sun promised a warm and pleasant late summer's day. The corn fields loomed large before the fall harvest and the hills and trees were still green and verdant.

As I sipped my first cup of coffee by the campfire, I savored the memory of the night before - an evening ATV ride through the hills and valleys of Covo Hills guided only by our headlights and the night sky.

I was amazed to see a doe and her two fawns running through the upper fields. I pressed Jeff not to scare them. They stopped dead in their tracks when we noisily approached - underscoring the statement "like a deer in the headlights". Then the mama jumped over a fence of wild bushes leaving the fawns behind to stand and stare in her direction. I quietly yelled for the doe to come back, when one fawn discovered a hole in the bushes and the other followed to be reunited with their mother, I could only hope.

Our next stop was the new lodge building on the top of the hill. We could see the campfire glowing down in the distance, but up where we were there were no other visible lights to disturb the blackness. I can't remember ever seeing a night sky like we saw that evening. The vast heavens were resplendent with a multitude of stars in varying degrees of brightness. The sight was overwhelming. We easily picked out the Big Dipper and one larger, more luminous star Jeff called a planet. I just laid my head back and stared, thinking of eternity and infinity, two words that have no beginning and no ending - like the scene I was witnessing above. That God created the heavens and the earth, the stars, the moon and the sun, the deer and the corn and all creatures large and small, the plants and the oceans, and then created man and woman in his image is testament to his greatness and glory and a reason to feel forever thankful and loved.

May the circle be unbroken

My girlfriend Barbara expressed it best.

"You've come full circle," she said, after learning about our successful bid to purchase a Phoenix home.

Jeff and I met at Arizona State University back in 1976 and didn't venture far in our quest for a winter residence. Located on a lake in the shadow of South Mountain, the home is fourteen miles from ASU.

Full circle has a nice connotation. We've lived in Southern California, Miami and currently Chicago, raised two children out of the nest and experienced the immensely satisfying but quick pace of career and family.

But recently, we've both yearned for a little less shivering and a little more sunshine. My top two choices were Newport Beach or the Phoenix area - two places that call to my heart. Newport because we started our life as a couple there, we lamented the loss of our first child there and Nick was born there. Plus I love the ocean! Phoenix because I was raised there and my family still lives there. And the desert - I had to leave the desert and come back to truly appreciate the beauty of broad blue skies, mountain vistas and flowering cacti.

But alas, Nick and Katie made our decision easy. Nick has settled in Phoenix after college and Katie is two hours north at the university in Flagstaff, Nick's alma mater. (No ASU for them). Being close to my children in February will be like sitting by the fireplace and watching the snowfall transform the barren winter landscape into a scene infinitely beautiful.

I may not be as active a participant in their lives, but I can be a grateful observer, happy to be on the inside looking out at these wonderful beings. Katie will still be two hours away, but a very drivable distance should she want a break from college life. And Nick is our co-investor and housemate during our winter sojourns. Hmmm, the added warmth I feel this winter may not emanate from the Phoenix sunshine, but the kitchen!

Happy Birthday Dad!

Today is my father's 89th birthday.

He's been gone for 15 years, but his presence still surrounds us - more so now than in many of the intervening years. What has made his presence so palpable are images on the Internet of his one surviving sister Ollga, who at 77 never had the opportunity to know her brother.

My father's ties to his mother and two sisters in Albania were all but severed when the 18-year-old George joined his father in America in 1938.

Ollga was six at the time, losing both father and brother to a new life in a foreign country she would never know. He always referred to Ollga as "the little one" because in his mind she remained the six year old he left behind. George left communist Albania under the cover of night, traversing the mountains with fear of being discovered and forced to join the Albanian army. Instead, he joined the U.S. Army, instilling pride in the father who claimed his new homeland as his own much to the dismay of his wife and daughters.

I search Ollga's face for some resemblance to my father - the same nose, thin lips, high forehead, kindly brown eyes. Brother and sister separated by time and place - circumstances beyond my comprehension.

My father is gone, but Ollga remains the matriarch of her family, surrounded by sons and grandsons - cousins and nephews I know nothing about, but hope to someday meet. But for now, they remain strangers in a foreign land. And I am as much of a mystery to them as they are to me.

Ode to the Hammock Part II

They beat me to it!

After I lamented my inability to "chill" in the hammock, Jeff decided to catch a nap in the afternoon shade.

Before long, curious Ozzie, the great imitator, decided to follow.

I still haven't taken a turn, but catching them in the act was almost as gratifying.

Shorter days herald pumpkin season

Summer is winding down as we begin the slow march to autumn. And the sun, the glorious sun, is stealthily leading the way. Though no less intense in heat or radiance than one month ago, the brightest star to planet earth foreshadows the impending winter darkness by slowly robbing of us of daylight minutes. Rising later and setting earlier, the fickle sun is visible 72 minutes less than on the longest day of the year. On June 21, sunrise was 5:16 a.m. On August 11, it was 5:55 a.m. On June 21, sunset was 8:29 p.m. On August 11, it was 7:56 p.m.

That may be a good thing when you’re hoping for a little more shuteye in the morning or waiting for fireworks to light the night sky. Not such a good thing when the shorter days signal waning gardens, cooler evenings and back to school.

Back to School! Counting the days until we drop Katie off at NAU is like than counting the minutes lost each day. Both are as inevitable as falling autumn leaves and football games, sweatshirts and gloves. Meanwhile back at the farm, summer is in full bloom with fresh green corn and Queen Anne’s lace, verdant hills and flowers bursting forth in vibrant patches of color.

And in the midst of it all is my first ever crop of pumpkins, a cheerful sign that autumn days are on their way.

Quizzical Kitty

We have a quizzical kitty. He didn’t start out that way with his head half cocked like he’s waiting for an answer to a very important question.

It happened sometime on a Saturday night when we were out to dinner. Ozzie was fine when we left, but when we returned, he couldn’t walk well. His left hind leg collapsed under him like it was shattered. It wasn’t. He stumbled to the couch. We thought it was an equilibrium problem, maybe an ear infection. But his eyes were off center, showing too much white for our comfort.

The vet predicted a stroke or brain bleed, but said the only way to verify that is with a CT scan. He gave Ozzie a cortisone shot and said he would have the best long-term prognosis with rapid improvement.

Suddenly, our feisty kitten felt fragile and looked sad. He lost his hearty appetite, walked in circles, and veered to the left, losing his balance and falling over.

Then just as unexpectedly, his eyes were back in their normal position, he was cruising up and down the stairs and walking pretty well with just a few sudden falls that are lessening with time.

The tree climbing Ozzie is gone. So is the kitty that loved rolling balls on the hardwood and leaping in the air at ribbons, lighting bugs, feather toys. He stills loves to be outside, but we watch him closer knowing he may not be able to run fast enough or protect himself from other cats.

Today, a week later, Ozzie reverted to one of his old tricks and attacked my hand. Instead of chastising him, I cheered. Now, If he would only attack some balls.

PERFECT all the way around

The front page news in the Tribune this morning was about White Sox player

Mark Buehrle whose stellar pitching performance on July 23 turned an ordinary afternoon game between the Sox and the Tampa Bay Rays into a historic major league moment - the perfect game.

One word headlines like PERFECT! and REMARKABLE said it all for Chicago fans. Even in Cubs bars like the Billy Goat Tavern in Wrigleyville, people were watching and hoping. And Jeff the bartender cranked the Billy Goat siren, usually reserved for great moments in Cubs history.

That's Chicago for you - open minded and big hearted.

We had the game on at home - then headed to the city for our own slice of perfection. Where else can you do so many awesome things within easy walking distance?

We walked around Millennium Park

Played miniature golf

Toured the new Modern wing of the Art Institute

(view looking out at the rained soaked park)

Enjoyed a concert at the Jay Pritzker Pavilion

And ended our evening with dinner in the park. Perfect!

Now, thanks to Buehrle, July 23 will be remembered for something

else besides our anniversary!