Pre-Disneyland with Grandkids

Overview
Frank and I were to fly down to Southern California Friday September 13th returning Tuesday September 17th to visit with Dan and Robin's families and enjoy some time at Disneyland together on Sunday with all five grandkids. Frank and I would return to Disneyland on Monday as well with Robin's family.
  • Friday Frank, Diane arrive; visit Dan, Carrie, Vivian, Lillian, William
  • Saturday Robin, Jeremy, Autumn, Isaiah arrive; visit Dan's family
  • Sunday Two grandparents, four parents, five grandkids meet at Disneyland
  • Monday Disneyland with Frank, Diane, Robin, Jeremy, Autumn, Isaiah
  • Tuesday fly home

Friday Sept 13th
Frank and I  flew down on an 11:40 am flight  into John Wayne Airport in Anaheim, CA, IATA location identifier SNA. While waiting for our luggage on the baggage carousel, Frank and I admired this "canstruction" designed to promote public awareness and action against hunger. Airports often do have interesting things to observe if you pay attention. Somewhere over the rainbow U-n-I can end HUNGER! reads the sign by Fluor, an engineering and construction company with a strong employee volunteer commitment to feeding children everywhere.

We trundled our two suitcases across the roadway that circled the terminals, to get on a shuttle bus to our hotel, The Park Vue Inn, about 15 miles north of the airport and directly across from Disneyland. We rode in relatively light traffic, in air conditioned comfort for about 40 minutes as our shuttle visited several hotel drop offs throughout the Disney Resort area.

A smiling Mickey Mouse statue greeted us in the lobby of our hotel. We checked into Room 222 and were hopeful that when Robin, Jeremy, and kids arrived the next day they would be checked into adjacent Room 223 with adjoining doors. (No promises of course, but the management did come through for us!)

The construction company Dan works for has a project going at Disney and Dan had conveniently scheduled a meeting on site for the day we arrived. After it ended he would able to drive us back to his home for the evening. Frank and I just chilled, content to wait until he was available.

Dan's home is about 35 miles southeast of our hotel. He moved there in January of 2015. On our way there we picked up 3 year old Lillian from her day care, and 5 year old Vivian from her after-kindergarten care, then stopping to get and bring home delicious shish kabobs from the Luna Grill. We'd gotten excellent food from there last April 2018 on our visit to meeting newly born William. As I had done during that visit, I waited in the car amusing the girls with music and apps on my cell phone. At one point I sneezed – quite noisily Vivian's opinion. She said "Grandma, you sneeze loud! You sneeze like an old lady!" "I am an old lady," I retorted. Young whippersnapper! I remember four-and-a-half years ago her taking her first steps at ten months in the kitchen of their then-new home while Frank and I were there helping them move.

After dinner I read Lil and Viv a bed time story. The book Pinkalicious was really cute and had great illustrations. A little girl helps her mom bake cupcakes and wants them to be her favorite color, pink of course. She eats too many cupcakes and she herself turns bright pink! Spoiler alert: eating green vegetables is the antidote.

After the kiddos were snug in bed, Dan, and Frank and I played a game of Splendor. Dan won, of course. Then he drove us back to our hotel. We planned to visit again Saturday evening with Robin and crew after they had arrived and settled in to their room.

Saturday Sept 14th
The Park Vue Inn is nestled back aways off the street and its front is obscured somewhat by the Cold Stone Creamery just off its lobby. 

To assure that Jeremy would not miss his turn after driving from the airport, Frank practiced the pose he would use at curbside to direct them.

We ate lunch at the IHOP next door and a wandering photographer took photos of our happy gang. Considering the Oklahomans had needed to get up at 4:00 am California time in order to make an early flight and arrive mid morning everybody looks pretty happy.

The girls as well as the guys were in great moods.

There was an awesome balloon artist making creations beside the tables. He made a spider man for Isaiah complete with a silver ballon extension that looked like it shot out threads of web. He handed it to Isaiah complete with "pyeeooh... pyeeooh... pyeeooh..." sound effects.

Then he asked Autumn if she would like a mermaid or princess. As we'd entered the restaurant, we had seen a few girls leaving with pretty impressive Ariel balloon creations. Autumn asked, "Can you do Aurora?" The man said, "I have never had anybody ask for Aurora before but of course. I can make anything." He seemed pleased at the challenge (and was perhaps tired of making green and aqua mermaids with red hair).

He was about to hand Aurora to Autumn when she innocently asked. "Doesn't she have a rose?" "Oh, of course, she does need a rose. I will make her one." Which he did and Autumn was thrilled when he placed Aurora with rose into her outstretched arms. He then rushed off saying, "Wait one moment. I will be back." He went somewhere and came back with metallic balloons that he proceeded to mold into a jeweled crown. He showed Autumn how to size it for herself or for Aurora's head with its flowing golden locks. He was so talented and had such a rapport with the kids. By the way, the balloons were free, but you can bet we tipped him.

Our first meal and outing together was a grand success.

The IHOP we were at is to the left outside the range of the photo. We did not even have to cross a street to get to it, just a driveway. But note that crosswalk at the light.

Taking that crosswalk directly to the other side leads to the entrance to the Disneyland Resort and we would be going there the very next day... down the pathway and off to the right.

Isaiah and Autumn did take naps before we went off to swim with their cousins Vivian, Lillian, and William in a nearby pool, one of the perks of living in Dan and Carrie's planned community Baker Ranch. I have no personal pictures of us in the pool because I was in the pool enjoying it with the kids sans cell phone. We had pizza delivered poolside and enjoyed dinner al fresco.

This pool is at #6 The Arbor Club on the following map. Dan and Carrie live within walking distance and overlook #5 Barker Ranch Dog Park down the hillside below them.

After eating and a bit of hot tub dipping we went back to Dan and Carrie's backyard and made S'mores at their fire pit. It was quite amazing how the little ones managed to get melted chocolate everywhere. I think only one marshmallow caught fire and only one was dropped into the fire pit... not too bad statistics.

Just before leaving to go back to the hotel I read the kids a book titled Emeraldalicious. It was similar to the one I'd read the previous night but this one had a bit more of an ecological bent. When Pinkalicious and her brother Peter come upon a garbage dump that had once been a park, a bit of wishing, a dash of love, and a swipe of a magic wand and all becomes green and clean and beautiful. On that optimistic note, we headed for slumberland for tomorrow was to be our big day at Disneyland.

Ponder: What the Dead Know

As the saying goes, "You can't judge a book by its cover." Well I am learning you can't judge a book by its author, either. I read my first book by Laura Lippman Wilde Lake ©2016 three years ago and thought it was excellent. I reviewed it in my post dated 6/7/16 and looked forward to reading another work by her. Laura Lippman is a New York Times bestselling author. Per the Laura Lippman page in Amazon

Since her debut in 1997, New York Times bestseller Laura Lippman has been recognized as one of the most gifted and versatile crime novelists working today. Her series novels, stand-alones and short stories have all won major awards, including the Edgar and the Anthony, and her work is published in more than 20 countries

I just completed Lippman's novel What the Dead Know ©2007 and found it sorely lacking. The basic plot line is that thirty years ago two sisters disappear from a mall. Their bodies was never found nor was the perpetrator of the crime. As a result of a random traffic accident, one of the sisters shows up and the cold case is reopened. What the dead now know is to not read this book because the dead probably died of boredom. 

I liked none of the characters. The two sisters are constantly bickering and barely tolerate each other. Their father is into some transcendental meditation routine. Their mother has little love and respect for the father. A twice divorced police detective assigned to the cold case has a jaded view of life. A retired police detective, the original on the case, hails from a wealthy family and consequently never quite fit in with his peers on the force. A social worker is rather spineless. I stuck with the book only because I wanted to see the resolution. There were so many red herrings introduced and the timeline jumped around so much it was hard to keep track. My husband completed it so I thought it was worth a try. Several times when I groused, he offered to tell me the ending but I stubbornly refused. I should have taken him up on his offer. Do not waste your time on this book. I rate it one star, which for me translates as Awful but I read most or maybe even all of it.

Pleasanton Play Date

My husband Frank and I are making an effort to at least one day a week go on a low-key local outing just for fun. Last week on Thursday, September 5th we went to the neighboring town of Pleasanton to see an exhibit in the Harrington Gallery in their Firehouse Theatre. We strolled through the collection of paintings and sculptures for a little over an hour. Groups of artwork reminded me of different family members: Rabbits for Alex, My Little Ponies for Robin, Vegas and Monopoly for Dan, Monopoly pieces for Frank, and a bit of quilted sculptures for me.

ALEX:

Bunnies made me think of Alex. He would have liked finding the bunny or bunnies in each of the  following five acrylic paintings on canvas by Carolyn Crampton.

Tech with George

Guitar, Roses, Rabbits

 Toys and Snoopa

 Teddy Bears, Sofa, and Rabbit

 Toy Horses with George Washington

DAN:

These oil paintings on canvas are by Hugo Kobayashi. The first one reminds me of my son's enjoyment of gambling a bit in Las Vegas. The second one recalls his love of Monopoly and the hard-fought five-hour monopoly game until 2:00 am between him and his dad on Dan's 35th birthday. See post dated 4/30/18.

Leaving Las Vegas

In the Red

FRANK:

Frank loves monopoly too and this series of oil on canvas by the same artist, Hugo Kobayashi, on the playing pieces was very striking. The tall black glossy images grabbed our attention and the artist did a great job of depicted the highlights and light reflecting characteristics of metal. The set of six were alined on one wall and wrapped round the adjacent corner. The lighting in the dark night sky transitioning down to the illuminated house and trailer were intriguing. Frank and I looked closely trying to discern perhaps if the bottom portion of the artwork, which includes the home, was a photograph but, no, it did not appear to be. We think it was highly talented technical painting. When we looked closely we also noted  that each house is different.

Weekend,  My Other Car,   Best Friend,   Land of Opportunity,   Top Hat,      Do Watcha' Wanna Do, Be Watcha' Wanna Be

I think my favorite was the fourth from the left although the title left me bewildered. It is hardly a huge opportunity dig ditches or iron cloths as my life's work.

Land of Opportunity

Frank's favorite was the collection of several  iconic playing pieces.

Do Watcha' Wanna Do, Be Watcha' Wanna Be

ROBIN:

This acrylic on canvas by Diana Krevsky with its toy ponies lined up on a wood shelf reminded me of my daughter's childhood with her collection of My Little Ponies.

Cutesyfiti

ME:
I liked the following textile sculptures by Susan Else because of the intricate stitching. Near the entrance was another pony themed textile sculpture by Susan Else, a carousel where humans are being ridden by ponies and the spectators are also ponies. This piece of art counts for my daughter as well as me because of the pony theme.

When Ponies Dream

I found the stitching work  fascinating. My daughter sews, also, so this double counts for her.

The next blue-colored, obliquely lit piece is as elephant on a unicycle on a tightrope. That is a very talented, very well-balance pachyderm.

Absolutely Amazing!

Here are two closeups of the sparkly beast, finely quilted in shiny, metallic thread.

Beneath the two poles supporting his (her?) high wire is an bargello type quilted platform. Or perhaps it is a fancy net? Either way, the colors and pattern certainly caught my fancy. The entire idea of an elephant balancing on a unicycle traversing a high wire is indeed fanciful in and of itself.

Exiting the gallery I could also appreciate the pavers on the entry patio outdoors. Those gentle curves and checks are like a quilt, are they not? I enjoyed this artful, inspirational, playful outing with my husband.

Ponder: Eleanor Oliphant

Eleanor Oliphant is completely fine ©2017 by Gail Honeyman is the author's first novel. I thoroughly enjoyed it and laughed out loud several times while reading it, even sharing real time some of the passages to my husband. Eleanor is a thirty year old single woman working in an office as a finance clerk. Reference is made early on to a mysterious scar on her face. She was raised in the foster child system. She is very much a loner with a quirky attitude about the world and a clueless view of social norms, doggedly dedicated to her Excel spreadsheets. As a reader I was amused by her foibles and attitudes while feeling sad for her lonely life – a loneliness she is aware of but considers inevitable and seems to take in stride as par for the course. Imagine going home from work on a Friday evening and having no human contact whatsoever until returning to work Monday morning. The novel is written in first person from her point of view, exposing the reader to the humor in her often sideways reasoning for her actions. In the office she is isolated, eats an unchanging lunch alone every day with her crossword puzzle, and has no-one with whom to share her feelings. Any nerds out there? Sound familiar? Can you identify to some degree? How can such a drab life spark so much chuckling in its telling? The author manages to achieve the seeming paradox with remarkable skill. This book is like A Man Called Ove (post dated 10/31/17) about a curmudgeon the reader learns to love in time. Eleanor is weird, but puzzlingly so, and my affection and empathy for her kept building. Hints accumulate, leading to understanding her better; there is an undercurrent of some childhood tragedy she'd endured.

I particularly enjoyed this passage, exemplifying her personality, where she is standing in line in front of Raymond, an IT guy from her office at branch of a café chain.

We queued, and I asked for a grande mochaccino with extra cream and hazelnut syrup. The young man asked my name."Why do you need to know my name?" I said puzzled. "We write it on your cup," he said, "so the drinks don't get mixed up." Ridiculous. "I haven't heard anyone else order and identical drink to mine, so far," I said firmly. "I'm sure I'm more than capable of identifying my chosen beverage when the time comes." He stared at me, the pen still poised in his hand. "I have to write your name on the cup," he repeated sounding firm but bored, as people in uniform are wont to do. "And I have to maintain a modicum of privacy by not sharing my given name with all and sundry in the middle of a cafeteria," I said, equally firmly. Someone further back in the queue tutted and I heard someone else mutter something that sounded like "for fuck's sake". It appeared that we had reached something of an impasse. "Fine, all right then," I said. "My name is Miss Eleanor Oliphant." He boggled at me. "I'll just put, eh, Ellie," he said, scribbling. Raymond was silent but I could feel his large shoulders and misshapen body quivering with laughter. It was his turn next. "Raoul," he said, and then spelled it out.

The book is in three parts: the first 25 chapters comprise Good Days, chapters 26 through 40 are labeled Bad Days, and the final 41st chapter is titled Better Days. When I started the Bad Days section I initially though,"Oh, no. This book was great up to now... what a bummer." In chapter 26 Eleanor muses to herself

The scalp massage at the hairdressers, the flu jab I had last winter – the only time I experience touch is from people whom I am paying, and they are almost always wearing disposable gloves at the time.

But I stuck with it. The mysteries of her scar and the background explaining the evolution of her personality are revealed. Life does improve for her, her acquaintance circle does expand, and I was glad I had persisted to envision the potential of a rosy future for Eleanor, for whom I had grown quite fond. If you loved Ove, you will love Eleanor. They both earned five stars from me.

Ponder: Where the Crawdads Sing

Where the Crawdads Sing ©2018 by author Delia Owens was five star winner for me. As with many modern day novels I have read recently, two storylines run in parallel or one storyline is segmented and told in two time periods.  I learned this writing technique is called dual timelines. Sometimes this two-in-one story approach annoys me, especially if I am engaged more in one plot than the other. But Delia Owens carried out this technique superbly and had me hooked to both stories from the very first pages.

In the prologue: 

On the morning of October 30, 1969, the body of Chase Andrews lay in the swamp, which would have absorbed it silently, routinely. Hiding it for good. A swamp knows all about death and doesn't necessarily define it as tragedy, certainly not a sin. But this morning two boys from the village rode their bikes out to the old fire tower and, from the third switchback, spotted his denim jacket.

The central character of When the Crawdads Sing is a young girl Kya the youngest of five children in a dreadfully poor family that lived in the marsh near the coast of North Carolina. The father is an erratic alcoholic who would beat the mother and lash out at the children. The family lives "squeezed together like penned rabbits", in a "rough-cut shack, its screened porch staring big-eyed from under the oaks". In an opening scene of Chapter 1, titled simply "Ma" and dated 1952, Kya, age six, is standing next to Jodie, her thirteen year old brother. They watch their mother leave the shack wearing her high heeled stubby-nosed fake alligator skin shoes and carrying a blue suitcase down the foot lane to the road. Their conversation goes:

"Ma'll be back", he said.
"I dunno. She's wearin' her gator shoes."
"A ma don't leave her kids. It ain't in 'em."
"You told me that fox left her babies."
"Yeah but that vixen got 'er leg all tore up. She'd've starved to death if she tried to feed herself 'n' her kits. She was better off to leave 'em, heal herself up, then whelp more when she could raise 'em good. Ma ain't starvin', she'll be back." Jodie wasn't nearly as sure as he sounded, but said it for Kya.
Her throat tight, she whispered, "But Ma's carryin' that blue case like she's goin' somewhere big."

This book was going to be gooood! It has a murder mystery to test my mind and an abandoned, lonely child to test my heart, all rolled into one. The murder time line revealed clues at an energizing pace and a murder trial near the end of the book was well described step by step with the dogged purpose of pointing out areas of reasonable doubt. As a child, Kya grows up shouldering hardship after hardship while being ostracized by the surrounding town as being weird and degradingly sneered at as "The Marsh Girl". How these two well-paced timelines intersect is handled seamlessly.

The setting as well was awe-inspiring. The lilting descriptions of the marshes where Kya was to grow up were wonderous for me. My most recent marsh viewing was passing through the San Pablo Bay Wildlife Refuge on the way to Sonoma County to visit the Charles M. Schulz Museum (post dated July 31, 2019). Even then I was struck by the beauty of the grasses gently blowing in the wetlands with the smattering of birds lending life to the scene.

Owens makes a distinction between marshes and swamps... one of life versus one of death. 

Marsh is not swamp. Marsh is a place of light, where grass grows in water and water flows into sky. Slow-moving creeks wander, carrying the orb of the sun with them to the sea... Swamp water is still and dark, having swallowed the light in its muddy throat. There are sounds, of course, but compared to the marsh, the swamp is quiet because decomposition is cellular work. Life decays and reeks and returns to the rotted duff; a poignant wallow of death begetting life.

Curious about this poetic distinction, I sought a scientific differentiation among the terms for wetlands. I found this chart at https://beachchairscientist.files.wordpress.com/2012/05/wetlands.jpg

I enlarged the quadrants for marsh and swamp and did indeed verify that the water in marshes in pH neutral and life and growth is more prevalent.

Subtle inclusion of these details in the novel is possible because of Delia Owens' background as a wildlife scientist. Although this is her first novel, she has three previous non-fiction publications based on her research and experiences in Africa and she holds a BS in Zoology and a PhD in Animal Behavior. I was drawn in by her dual ability to weave facts into poetic and mesmerizing language.

Chapter 10 is titled "Just Grass in the Wind". It forwards the forensics about the murder scene beneath the old fire tower. "Sand keep secrets better than mud," it begins. I liked this way of intimating there was evidence to be had – perhaps.

So I have addressed the flora but how about the fauna. Why the book title? What are crawdads and can they really sing? I located this pretty picture of crawdad on a pillow by Caroline's Treasures.

Per Wikipedia a crayfish (aka crawdad) is defined.

Crayfish are freshwater crustaceans resembling small lobsters (to which they are related). They are also known as crawfish, crawdads, freshwater lobsters, mountain lobsters, mudbugs, or yabbies. ... In the Eastern United States, "crayfish" is more common in the north, while "crawdad" is heard more in central and southwestern regions, and "crawfish" further south, although considerable overlaps exist.

This book takes place along the North Carolina Coast in the fictional town of Barkley Cove.

Can crawdads really sing? Yes they can! The site https://bernheim.org/you-say-crawfish-we-say-crayfish/ has an audio file of their singing and states

A little known fact about crayfish is that they can produce sound in and out of the water. Crayfish produce sounds through their scaphognathite, which is a thin appendage that draws water through the gill cavity. They move the scaphognathite and produce sound and air bubbles. They will produce a series of pulse trains that is believed to signal an individual’s presence to other crayfish. It is also believed that they produce sounds to alert other crayfish to predators, or to attract a second predator to prey upon the predator.

I highly recommend this book as a fascinating, fulfilling read for all audiences. It challenges your mind, softens your heart, stimulates your senses, and rewards your time spent reading. Five stars. Yes. Definitely five stars.

★★★★★