Better by the dozen

Just a few months ago, we arrived at a total of twelve grand-twigs on our family tree.   This may be it for us, concerning this newest generation.  Or not.  As far as the end goes, the "fat lady" has not sung yet, although I did have a certain hymn stuck in my head this morning which I avoided humming out loud for fear it would never leave, but I digress ....  

Our even dozen grandkids, who all came from spectacular parents, are on a new level of spectacular and if you don't want to hear about them, you're excused to go check Facebook.  I'm ranking them by age and thus, will start with .....

#1 is a gentle young man who lives in a small, yet secure sphere.  He does not speak because of a mystery called autism and I cannot wait to someday learn about the myriad of secrets locked inside of him.  I have no doubt they'll be profound.  

#2 has no secrets locked inside as she is quite willing to express every thought whether asked for or not.  We've stockpiled years of laughter over her many uninhibited verbal-isms.  She too has autism and she finds noise, and sometimes people in general, very off-putting, but at the same time, can enjoy being the center of attention.  If grandmas are allowed to have favorites, she'd be in my top tier.  

#3 just got his driver's license this year and I'd trust him to drive me anywhere.  (I'm not sure I could have said that about my own kids at that age.)  He somehow evolved from a square-peg-in-a-round-hole kid to someone who is smart, mature, pleasant, helpful, and he leaves a wake of impressed people behind him.  I know this because they tell me. 

#4 has not stopped smiling since he was born.  Nor has he stopped collecting things, and I'm always lagging behind on what the current collection consists of .... from anything related to dinosaurs, to rocks, to coins, to ......  He is a true entrepreneur and would be thrilled if, instead of receiving a typical kid toy for his birthday, he received stock market shares.  I'm not kidding.  And after a visit to our house, if anyone accidentally leaves something behind, it'll be him.  

#5 is getting precariously close to teenage-hood and her delightful personality is showing more since she actually started talking to me.  It took a weeklong trip of hiking in Utah canyons together.  She's becoming her mother's worst fear, which is .... pretty ..... since *pretty* is often more challenging to raise than is *average*.  Especially through the teen years.  She also inherited her mom's artistic talent and anyone who sees her drawings does a double-take.  

#6 is our freckled tomboy and I unabashedly take full credit for it, since that used to be me.  She is determined to never be outdone by her older brothers and I've yet to see her admit to being afraid of anything.    If a chore can be ignored or put off till tomorrow, she will take full advantage and then giggle her way out of it.  

#7 can pull off the most woe-is-me face when describing, in full detail, all the injustices in her little world .... which are usually brought on by a younger sibling.  She cannot tell a story without dancing, prancing, and twirling for added emphasis.  She loves anything and everything girl-related and even though she has yet to start first grade, reads amazingly well.  If you are deserving, she will grace you with a genuine hand-colored picture for your forever enjoyment.

#8 ...... if you recall the cartoon characters, "Pinky and the Brain" .... she is the Brain, in pigtails.  Just know that behind that beguiling little face lurks deep thoughts, some of which may seem quite curious at best, or a bit morbid at worst.  Like her older sister, she has mastered the twirling and dancing and will also color a picture of flowers or unicorns (always in pink) to give as her highest token of esteem.  

#9 is the quintessential "snips and snails and puppy dog tails" who careens through his day with the typical forethought of any three-year-old boy.  Fortunately, in addition to his dutiful parents, he has his two older sisters who are not only very quick to jump in and speak for him, but to both mother him and complain about him almost simultaneously.  He is the first one to get a bump or scrape and will then bellow at full volume if you even suggest taking a look at it.  But his dimpled cheeks and enormous blue eyes win over any situation.

#10 just turned one about a month ago, so we are all still making our introductions.  He has luscious dark brown hair, deep sparkly-blue eyes, and would have the most kissy-poochy mouth if it wasn't always wet with drool.  The next time we see him, he'll probably be walking and thank goodness for that, because he's about as heavy as a sack full of lead.   But be warned ..... do not take him more than a few steps away from his mama, or he will let you hear about it.

#11 and #12 came as a packaged deal and we have even more to learn about them.  One of each gender and I don't remember which one emerged a minute or two before the other.  They must have ridden a lot of roller coasters in heaven before they were born because their new little lives have been full of ups and downs.  And thankfully, the ups are winning the race.  They're still learning that nighttime is for sleeping, and better yet, to be done in sync with each other, so as to give their tired parents relief.  But they've already melted far more hearts than this tiny pair would seem capable.  

So there you have it.  We're fairly sure that somehow, we won the tree lottery.  We love each one of these twigs which will someday become leafy branches with twigs of their own.  And if you're cringing at how *sappy* that sounds ..... that makes two of us.  

Ebikes, baby!

Note:  Auto-correct is NOT happy about the word "ebike" and is fiercely fighting me each time I type it.  If you are also unfamiliar with it, it means electric bikes.  And we got some!  

In our previous life, Husband and I both rode regular bikes and had some glorious biking adventures.  We rode tandems and single bikes, hybrids and road bikes.  That all abruptly ended about 7-8 years ago with the acquisition of a motorcycle .... truly a happy event as far as the legs and Tush were concerned.   

Then, with the advance of lithium batteries, e b i k e s (take THAT, auto-correct!) exploded onto the scene with a plethora of different makes and models.  Back in the day (dang, that sounds old)  there used to be a manageable number of bike manufacturers .... Trek, Cannondale, Specialized, etc., and local shops sold many of them.  However, over months of researching e b i k e s, I kept encountering more and more brands.  And I'm talking dozens!  Test-riding them all was impossible.  Heck, without criss-crossing the USA and Canada, it was impossible to even SEE most of them before purchasing.  

About a year ago, a friend loaned us his Rad bike for a while, which is probably the most widely-known brand, and are only sold online.  But in the end, Husband chose the high-quality components of a Tern, and I wanted a lighter, low-step (think of the old girl-style bikes) and got a Magnum.  (I'll bet you never heard of either name.  See what I mean??)  We purchased both at local shops and both fold in half for easier packing into ..... you guessed it .... our van.  

In fact, the van was our main reason for getting e b i k e s.  We can travel to wherever, park, set up camp, and then ride the bikes to ... say ... go eat or explore, without having to undo all that setting up to drive somewhere.  Flawless plan, right?  

We figure it's best to carry them inside our vehicle, rather than on a rack, to avoid the sad possibility of them disappearing into the night.  And, as a nod to one of my previous posts about my delight in van mods, I installed straps in the van "garage" to keep the two folded bikes upright and separated, so they don't attack each other during transit.  

Speaking of mods ... on my bike I've added a front basket, different seat, and a mirror.  Husband tries to hold onto a semblance of his former youthful-biking-coolness but alas, I'm afraid, due to the big basket attached to his rear fender (for holding either groceries or dog) he will probably fall short of that goal.  I don't care how I look because, for me, this bike is not about appearances, it's about utility.   (Wouldn't matter anyway .....)  At least there are no more dreaded clip-in shoes (the cause of my two minor, previous-life bike crashes) nor any padded spandex whatsoever. 

My e b i k e (as do most) has two amazing features.  The first one is a throttle which I seldom use because the second feature -- "Peddle Assist" -- pretty much does it all.  I have the option of riding without engaging either of those features (nobody does that), or push a button and WHOOSH .... hills become a non-issue.  I still do enough peddling to get a respectable workout without rendering myself useless for the rest of the day.  (For those of you who know and care-- most of the time I'm in PA levels 1 or 2.)  The downside of this operation is that the battery must be recharged now and then, and for that, one must have the presence of mind to remember to do it.  Supposedly I should be able get well over 50 miles per charge, depending on how much peddling I do, but that remains to be tested.  One thing's for sure, you do NOT want to be caught mid-ride with a depleted battery because that would leave you with nothing but some seriously heavy slogging* to get home.  (*Impromptu term for manually pedaling an over 50-lb bike.)

My way of mentally dealing with the sticker-shock of a new bike is to ride it.  And that I have.  Well ... some.  The countryside where I live is decidedly dull and colorless and almost everywhere looks the same except for an occasional (and sometimes startlingly) massive canyon.  Not to mention, this time of year it's usually too hot to ride after nine a.m.  So far the Tush's limit is about 18 miles, but I have hopes that'll improve because there's a Dairy Queen in town that would entail a 30 mile round trip, give or take.  

This is at the Alvord Desert in SE Oregon which was on our Must Return list.  We first went there five years ago and I wrote about it here.  It was the perfect place (for me) to get used to a new type of bike because there is literally nothing (NOTHING!) you can run into.  The larger of those two specks in the distance is Husband on his bike, and the tiny speck is our dog in hot pursuit.  (Didn't have the basket yet.)

So time will tell.  All our former-life bikes are gone except for one (not mine) that hosts a thick layer of dust.   And hopefully this blasted heat wave will JUST STOP IT!  

STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT!!

......... (See previous semi-grumpy post.)

Somethin's burnin'

Where we used to live, until about three years ago, I never could see a reason to have a 72 hour kit.  (I know, I know.  Raised eyebrows.  Shocked faces.  Gasps.)  A better idea, in my opinion, would be to keep a few necessary items at one of our kids' homes, who lived nearby.  Everything else we might need was available at any number of local shops, grocery stores, or pharmacies.  In our Former Life, the only realistic disaster was maybe a house fire or ...... hmmmm.  Flood?  No.  Nuclear attack?  Pshaw.  We never did get around to leaving anything at anyone's house, nonetheless, the intent was there.  And (a very pertinent point) it rained a lot where we used to live.  I'll explain why I bring this up.  

We now live in the desert where it's very dry 3-4 months of the year.  Every year, the news ominously reports, is drier than the last, not to mention this heat wave from you-know-where.  Wild fires can spring up in an instant, especially in remote areas.  So a single lighted match or cigarette causes great consternation.  We are shamed into keeping our trees trimmed up and brush cleared with frequent reminders of potential calamity should we fail to comply.   Thunderstorms, unless accompanied by a fair amount of rain, are no longer innocent summer entertainment.  July 4th fireworks bring a lot of angst.  Alerts pop up on my phone with evacuation updates.

It's a different world over here.  (I fantasize about lawn sprinklers mounted on our roof.  Couldn't hurt, right?)  To put it briefly, I miss the rain.  

About ten days ago as we were driving back from town, we saw a mega plume of smoke coming from what looked like the area where we live.  (Fortunately it wasn't, although it WAS less than seven miles away and moving closer.)  

For the next couple of days, our local Facebook group was abuzz and cars were gathering along roads where there were viewpoints.  Husband and I sat on our patio and watched the fire-fighting planes flying to dump their load of red retardant then back to the local airport to refill.  

A helicopter heading back to refill the bag at the end of the cable with (we assume) water.

They named it the Grandview Fire.  Husband took the above two photos.  He sent them to a couple of local news stations and they were shown on TV.  

Our mountain view disappeared into the smokey haze ... which happens regularly here in the summer.  But by the third day, the haze disappeared and we began to read news reports that, thankfully, the level of containment was growing and the fire had topped out at just over 6,000 acres. The firemen were winning.  (No homes were lost.)

We live on a 10,000+ acre peninsula of land, surrounded on the west, north, and east by vast canyons with rivers running along the base of each.  I've come to really appreciate these natural firebreaks and this latest fire was on the other side of one of those canyons.  I also appreciate that our local fire department has never lost one house in our community to a wild fire .... thus far.   About twelve years ago, there was a wild fire close to where our home now sits, in fact there are a few charred stumps remaining on our property.  Someone apparently had lost control of their burn pile.  One neighbor said she saw an ember float up into a nearby tree which then erupted like a torch.   This fire burned about ten acres and, as the neighbors tell it, the firemen camped close by for a week, just to be sure it was out.  It burned mostly public land where, years later, it still looks ugly and scarred because no one is allowed to cut down the dead trees ..... (a moment to pause and, yet again, wonder about government bureaucrats).

So I now have a plan.  If we ever have to evacuate, Husband and I will each drive one of our cars, and I have a list of items that will go into each vehicle.  Instead of 72 hour kits, we have a 72+++ hour van that already contains a majority of the stuff we might need.  I also ..... get this(!) ..... organized (mostly) our 45-year-old monster nest of random family photos into albums.  Yes, it's true.  I'm awarding myself Big Points for this latest project that I completed a few days ago, because it's been nagging me for years.  (So, to my posterity, next time you come to visit, you will find all the albums in the den, awaiting your viewing pleasure.)  And rest assured, said albums are on the evacuation list.  I just hope we never have to use it.