A brief breath of fresh air

The calm in the center of the hurricane

Turkey didn’t have a chance. Son-in-law spatch-cocked the hell out of it.

My proper Bostonian grandmother had a saying, “Children should be seen and not heard.” My sisters and I didn’t mind making ourselves scarce, because she exuded a chill we found intimidating.

Too bad for her. She didn’t know what she missed! Children and grandchildren are the light and hope of the world. They are the ones for whom I will do everything within my power to give them a kinder, safer, more equitable future, despite the impending threats from the president-elect.

I’ve just spent a very full week with my whole family, and feel infinitely better for it. My three kids, their partners, and their four children descended from Oakland, Los Angeles, Washington DC and Veyrier, France on a large AirBnB in my Portland neighborhood.

The news fades far into the background in the company of grandchildren. They’re just in the present moment and bring the rest of us along. (I have to remind myself there is no other moment, and the shit that’s about to hit democracy’s fan is still a concept of a plan (albeit delineated in the 900 scary pages of Project 2025).

We cooked and ate a lot of great food. One thanksgiving activity: face masks for everyone. Anything for beauty. Or laughs. Or disguise, because we ARE the resistance.

The grandkids were a constant source of amusement.

At one dinner, the two youngest, 8 & 10, were sitting opposite my oldest grandson and decided to mirror everything he did. When he picked up his fork, they picked up theirs. When he scratched his nose, they scratched theirs, etc. Here he is, wearing his customary ski cap. (What is it with young men wearing hats all the time, even indoors?)

They were all enjoying this little silent game. Then the 8 & 10s suddenly excused themselves and ran upstairs. Two minutes later they wordlessly re-sat themselves, with one change—they’d donned two ski caps and 2 pairs of black gloves to make their cousin spoof complete.

One night, they came to my place for a sleepover. Those of you who have been following me for awhile, know that I’m an AFOL (Adult Fan of Lego), or maybe an EFFOL (Elderly Female Fan of Lego). During the pandemic these bricks saved my sanity. The kids could hardly wait to get into my collection.

We made weird vehicles and flying objects, and then they made this house, complete with a roof garden and a water feature, which they realized would likely spill off the roof, so they made a water garden below. No inside stairs, so the minifig has to use a ladder to get to the second floor.

Eat your heart out Grandma B!

Finally, I must share a Thanksgiving miracle. My younger son was driving my car and noted that my backup camera was super blurry. “Well, the car is ten years old,” I explained. “The technology was probably not so good back then. I just use my mirrors.”

He got out of the car, went around to the back and located the teeny tiny camera, which was so well hidden under the curve by the license plate that no car wash had ever reached it. With one swipe of his index finger, he removed ten years of road grime. Wow! He loves making me look like an idiot. I love when he fixes things because sometimes I’m an idiot. It’s a win-win.

PUT YOURSELF IN THE WAY OF BEAUTY

One family outing was to the stunning “Exquisite Creatures” exhibit at OMSI of Christopher Marley’s mounted bugs, beetles, butterflies, birds, lizards, shells and so much more. Don’t miss.

Back to the real world now…

In case you missed the announcement of my nomination to TWO cabinet positions in the next administration, due to my extraordinary lack of qualifications and history of moral flexibility, grift and lawlessness, you can read all about it here.

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