Saturday Smidgen Series, Part Six: May 31, 2014

Life is good sometimes. Last Saturday, Kevin got off from work early. We got to have a little barbecue. Bratwursts from a friend’s pastured pig grilled on a cast iron griddle, a glass of wine, smores, and a beer for my husband makes for an absolutely perfect evening.

Life is good.

Life is good.

This week I went to New Jersey. It was a quick trip. Kevin had some extra days off so I went when he could watch the children. I brought Baby4 with me because she’s free as a lap child.  Our luggage was late coming in.  Here we are at Newark Airport, when we finally did get the luggage (and car seat).

Here we are in Newark Airport when we finally did get our luggage.

Here we are in Newark Airport when we finally did get our luggage.

I knocked on my mother’s door, as a surprise.  She said “Who is it?” and I said “[Baby4’s name]”.  (If you remember, Baby4’s name is a derivative of my mom’s name.) My mom thought I said her name and said “Yes” and opened the door.  You should have seen the look on her face.  Laura’s little house on the prairie is 1699 miles away from my mother’s house.

The main purpose of my visit was to see my grandmother, Grandma Rose.  Grandma Rose isn’t doing too well and it breaks my heart.  I had a very hard time taking a picture that I’d even want to take, if that makes sense.  I don’t want to remember my grandma in her frailty and unawareness.  I want to remember Grandma Rose as the Grandma Rose I know and love.  She had a moment of lucidity where she was at least aware of the baby.  I don’t think she knows or understands that Baby4 is her great granddaughter. Saying goodbye to Grandma Rose was really really hard.  I am fearful that it was my last goodbye to her.  I guess there’s not much I can do, besides pray.

grandma

I also visited my other grandmother.  She is not very aware, but she’s doing OK physically.  My sainted aunt takes very very good care of Grandma Loretta.  Again, it’s hard to get a picture that seems like something I want to remember.  I did get a picture of Manhattan from the BQE.  It’s not a very good picture.  I was driving.  The new World Trade Center is very visible, although I mourn seeing it.

BQE stands for Brooklyn Queens Expressway.  It's a misnomer because it's not usually very express.

BQE stands for Brooklyn Queens Expressway. It’s a misnomer because it’s not usually very express.

On Thursday, I went to Mass at St.Somebody Church.  St.Somebody Church was very, um, educational, and not in a good way.  I fulfilled my obligation.  St.Somebody is under jurisdiction of the local Bishop.  Father is a validly ordained priest with faculties.  It was a valid Mass.  St.Somebody is case and point of why I prefer the Traditional Latin Mass.  I’m a snob with ADD.  I need all the seriousness and “smells and bells” of the TLM.  I’m unable to get through my head that St.Somebody Parish really has the representation of Christ’s Sacrifice on Calvary.  I’m a bo-bo Catholic. The precept of the Church is to attend Mass on Sundays and Holydays, not to attend TLM Mass.

St.Somebody is a church in the round.

St.Somebody is a church in the round.

Saturday when I was back home, I passed this bull. I thought he looked so funny standing there, actually guarding the cattle guard. Cattle guards are metal slats in roadways that cars can drive over but cattle will not walk over. They have different depth perception than us and they fear the cattle guards. Quite a contrast to two days before, my BQE picture above.

He is not mine.

He is not mine.

I also took snapped this picture Saturday of this cute calf who is not mine. I find it mind boggling that the BQE and this road are even in the same country.

Is this the same country?

Is this the same country?

I came home to a new bathroom. I am in love. I have hated my tub ever since I moved here. I think I’ll be showering just for fun now.

I'm in love.

This looks like a different house, forget about a new tub and toilet.

While I was in New Jersey, Kevin and the kids had their own fun.

Kevin and the kids were having their own fun.

Kevin and the kids were having their own fun.


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