Our Clear, Bright and Famous Girl

Clair

I found out this morning that your name means "clear, bright and famous". How perfectly named you are! You stand out wherever you are because of your vibrance, zest and the joy you find in everything you do. What a happy life Jared will have. You make every room you enter a funner, more exciting and more energy-filled place than it was before you arrived. You are one of the few people I know whose child-like wonder and joy has not been dimmed by "maturity".

Watching you grow and blossom has been a great joy in the lives of the Rowley family. You've been a sister to my son and we'll never forget the way he would follow you wherever you led. If Clair was going there it must be a really cool place!

Every sign shows that you've found the perfect companion in Jared. I love that he appreciates all those fine qualities you have. We love you and treasure that we will share this weekend with you. If your lives brings you just a fraction of the joy you've brought to others, you will truly be happy.

We Have the Technology... We Can Rebuild him

It was touch and go for a while...  but it looks like he'll pull through.  

After 45 grueling minutes in surgery to have his wisdom teeth removed and have some bone grafting done (those in the know will recall that Brian knocked out his front teeth back in 2002.  Now that he's full grown, we're prepping for tooth implants for him), mom was there to pick up her Angel Baby. Correction:  her completely stoned Angel Baby.   Brian was cracking up the entire Surgery Center with his antics...  (apparently he just gets louder when he's high).  It took him about 5 minutes to realize that the reason talking was such a challenge was that he had about 1/2 pound of gauze in his mouth.  Then, he assured all of us that he was not "under the influence" and that he'd just "manned through" the surgery.  He did a little dance for me in the Elevator that was most impressive and then skipped to the car.

Having a sense that the tide could turn at any moment, I #1, stopped at McDonalds for a Milk Shake for Brian as he hadn't been able to eat all day prior to surgery... (Okay, Yeah...  I got one for myself too... and some fries... so sue me!).  and #2, I ran into the nearest Safeway for narcotics.  After a half hour watching them try to work out our insurance  (argggghhh!), I went back to the car.   It was Not Pretty.  Brian was by now very uncomfortable, but also covered in a mixture of chocolate milk shake (you'll recall that he couldn't feel his lower lip and his aim was off) and blood.

So, three days, 20 percocet and 28 firecracker popsicles later (this is an accurate count), Brian is definitely on the mend.  As of tomorrow morning, I am retiring as his personal maid.  Being back at work will definitely be a relief!!!  I'm a bit slow, but I realized that when he could play Guitar Hero at Expert Level for over an hour, he could probably have the strength to get to the fridge...

As you can see by the photo below, he's doing better and looking as handsome as ever!

Perhaps I Live in Cranford

Since the Jane Austen series on PBS, I've returned to my roots and become sucked back into the world that is Masterpiece Theatre. Yeah, yeah, I know the name has changed and now it is hosted by the X Files chick (and can someone please tell me how that happened??) but for me, it will always be Masterpiece Theatre hosted by Alistair Cooke. I remember watching every Sunday night w/ my mom and dad on the burnt orange sofa.

And now I'm back. Sunday nights dragging Steve to the sofa to watch the latest. And the latest has been incredible!!! It's Cranford, adapted from three Elizabeth Gaskill novels. It's centered on the women of a very small English village in the 1840's. The town never changes, nor do its inhabitants... It is funny, sad and completely endearing. Two-thirds of the way through the episodes, I realized why I was so drawn to this village. I think it is actually the Rosehill Ward.

Could this be Mindy?

The characters are flawed but so loveable, rigid except when their friends are in need, and quirky but absolutely reliable. This is what I treasure in both Cranford and Rosehill.

Time and time again, we've shared in eachother's joys and sorrows. We've "married 'em & buried 'em" together... We've grown older, but better, ladies. And I'm grateful to be a part of our little tucked away village.

p.s. I have burned the episodes on DVD. They are a "must see". Let me know if you are interested! Cindy gets first dibs as recovery from the wedding!!!

To My Kelly-Kelly-Kelly

Kelly & Scott, May 2008

Kelly

I'm thrilled to use the opportunity of your wedding to tell you one more time how much I love you.

I can't imagine my life the past ten years without you in it. You have taught me so much about courage, adversity and finding joy. Your faith and hope have buoyed mine. You have faced life's challenges head on. I love your unique blend of strength and compassion.

I'm grateful that Scott brings you the unconditional love you so deserve. My prayer is that this weekend will be absolutely perfect for you. And that you will have a life time and an eternity of joy and discovery.

Thank you.

Don't Cry for Me..... Belize

My first clue should have been when we registered at the hotel and were given Room #13.

Picture this: San Ignacio, Belize, April 26, 6:30 am. It's our first morning in Paradise. The day before we'd met Brian in Dallas, and flown down together to ShangriLa. After spending our first night in the jungle, I awake to the sounds of birds. And I mean Birds. Hundreds of birds with distinctive, beautiful songs. The sun is shining and it must have been 70 degrees already. Like I said, Paradise.

Steve and Brian are still sleeping (big surprise!) and I decide to not waste a moment of this perfect day. After spending 30 seconds getting ready (you'll see from photos of my hair that this is a true statement. In my defense, when the humidity is 90%, me hair no likey), I'm walking quickly down the trail to the river. After going approximately 1/3 of a mile, I begin to descend down a hill with stairs carved into the earth to help gentle the sleep slope. I've gone to great lengths to protect my feet, throwing on flip flops (otherwise my prep time would have increased by 75%!). I take the second or third step, feel something going horribly wrong with my ankle and then feel myself begin to fall.... and fall.... I'm not sure how many steps I went down before thankfully I was stopped. By a low concrete wall. After coming out of shock (there are several moments of which I have no memory), I begin to assess the damage. Which is worse? This is a tough call. Right ankle appears to have a baseball growing out of it, but left knee and shin have deep gouges with bright red North American blood flowing from them freely. A half hour later I'm delivered to my room (yes, boys still sleeping) via wheelchair! I spent the first day and a half of vacation propped up on pillows with ice on ankle and knee. Initially, after recalling a vacation in Vegas where I spent 24 hours vomiting while poor sisters quietly ate crackers in the corner and another one where I couldn't move because a virus had entered into my joints (also with my lucky sisters), I began to feel a little sorry for myself... but nobody really wants to cry for you when you're laying around drinking limeade in paradise, so I decided to get over myself and enjoy the downtime. Anybody who is a goodreads.com buddy can easily see how I filled the time.

After 36-hours of good old fashioned laziness and hearing Steve say the words "Lucky 13" about 74 times, I decided I could waste no more time. A wheelchair was traded in for crutches and then the crutches were switched out for a walking stick: my dearest friend for the trip. With that in place, we hiked, canoed, tubed, ziplined, para-sailed, dove, snorkeled through Belize and a bit of Guatemala. The trip was incredible. The jungles were amazing and the people so gracious and in justifiably proud of their beautiful countries.

If I had to pick a highlight of the trip, it was the 24 hours we spent in Guatemala. We had an incredible tour of Tikal, a Mayan city. They call it ruins, but after 1000 years, it certainly didn't look ruined to me. There were so many strong, beautiful buildings. Tikal means "echo" and it really seemed to echo of a mighty past. I kept waiting for Captain Moroni or Abinadi to come around the corner! Truly magnificent.

A few pics below...

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The view from our room on the island.

True Story: Steve initially wasn't happy w/ the view.

Too Many trees. I HATE being his travel agent.

My happy boys Para-Sailing

Yes, we landed on this runway... Prayer is good.

A toucan came to join me while I read on the deck

one morning.

Look at the color of that water.

The Rowley's Do Tikal.

Leaving a Cave by Canoe. The Mayans

entered these caves, got stoned, and sacrificed food, pottery and children in them.

While my visit wasn't quite that exciting, I did see remnants of their "celebrations"

Steve wouldn't let me bring this souvenir home...

p.s. I have firmly fallen into the trap. This is SO why I didn't want to start a blog. I told Steve 100 times, no one wants to look at someone else's vacation pics.... now, it has just become another price my family and friends must pay to be linked to me in this life. May you each be blessed for your patience. And if you do feel even a touch of envy, you should come look at the tan lines on my legs. Bandages make for a really interesting test of how much sun you've taken in. Because the band aids got progressively smaller throughout the trip, my left legs closely resembles a jig saw puzzle. Like 44 and chubby isn't unattractive enough....