Linda Jenkins and Preston Bluff

FAMILY HOLIDAYS - end of 2011

The end of year 2011 holidays were unusually jam-packed - all to the good.
(See pictures in the album in the left column - AAAHolidays 2011)

Martha Boyd came to Fort Worth December 20-23. We toured Fort Worth sights, including the magical trees created by Chesapeake Energy on the Pier One campus.

Martha joined Mother and me in tracking down the headstones for Mother's maternal great-grandparents, Belle and Thomas Presley, at Mount Olivet Cemetery. Belle was descended from Revolutionary War soldier and Virginia farmer Reuben Pound.

On Christmas Eve, the day after Martha flew back to Chicago, Rob and Maren Jenkins flew in from Chicago with Michael (5) and Juniper (3 1/2).

This was the first time Mother and I had been able to share Christmas with the little kids, so we were thrilled (and I went a bit overboard on presents). For them, Santa only puts gifts in stockings, which mitigates materialistic madness.

We visited our favorite haunts:

The Fort Worth Museum of Science and History (saw a great holidaze laser show in the planetarium there).

Richard Serra's "Vortex" sculpture outside the Modern Museum. We call it the Scream Tower because we go inside and make a lot of noise to hear the echoes.

The Fort Worth Water Garden. The kids go deep inside the pool and climb high up on the "mountain."

Mexican food on Joe T. Garcia's patio, with obligatory exploration of the restaurant's many gardens.

And a nice long visit to the Chesapeake trees, including a stroll down the avenue of lights.

Otherwise we played, read stories and watched movies at home, where the kids were busy little artists.

Before they left, Michael and Juniper were happy to see the lollipop tree had once again "produced." A boxwood in the back yard mysteriously bears lollipops when young children visit. And so it will again, and again, I hope.

THEATRICAL JENKINSES

I've added a new photo album (see the list in the left column) of great moments from the Theatrical Jenkinses, especially Rob, aka Bobby. Grandson Michael (Ogre) wants to dress up like Igor - but didn't know his father performed as Igor at age 4, in a special private family performance in the Walsh living room (after seeing Young Frankenstein). The pictures should be self-explanatory.

SPRING JOURNEYS

I ventured here and there this spring to be with friends and family, enjoy the Texas wildflowers, and have a few adventures. What actually transpired may be of interest only to me, but I have a few fun photos to share.

Working backwards - Chicago in mid-May to be with son Rob, his wife Maren, and their children Michael (aka Green Ogre) and Juniper (aka Scary Clown) in Brookfield, as well as Maren's parents in Waukegan and John Jenkins and his wife Nan in Albany Park.

And, visits with NU pals Terry McCabe, Suzanne Plunkett, Mary Siewert Scruggs, Jeff Semmerling - plus a great NU party night in Evanston for the Rockme concert (Paul Barrosse, Brad Hall, Rush Pearson on stage and a host of dear folks on the dance floor). Got a huge creative surge from these wonderful people.

Bookending Chicago: My own private heaven in Charlotte and Daniel Ward's gorgeous Longshadow Gardens way south in Pomona, IL, in the Shawnee National Forest.

Before that - a brief trip to SE Kansas for the unhappy reason that my former mother-in-law, Irene Jenkins, died. Service in Weir and burial at Hosey Hill. It was a lovely reunion with the Jenkins clan. We all loved her so very much.

In April I visited Linda Tarpley Peterson in Cypress, Texas, for a couple of nights. Some classic Americana experiences on the way down, including an antique auto festival.
I drank in the wildflowers (and Sam Houston statue) going up and back.
The two of us had satisfying wildflowers and longhorn encounters by attending a fair in Chappell Hill.

I took time in Houston for the marvelous Menil Collection, including the Rothko Chapel,
and whimsical sculptures on the increasingly beautiful Rice campus.

Home now, probably for the whole long hot Texas summer. I'm tending the more than 30 tomato plants and ten or so squashes that sprang up from my compost all on their lonesome. A major project is removing grass from at least half of the backyard to create gardens, patios and walks. So far doing all the work myself. You'd think I'd lose weight . . .

SANTA FE, DIA DE LOS MUERTOS and EL PASO

I drove my mother (Alice Walsh) and aunt (Louise Lawson) to Santa Fe, El Paso and back to Cowtown over this past long Halloween weekend. My mother turned 90 on Sunday, so it was a chance to see relatives and places long familiar to my Southwestern family as well as to poke around in new places. We had brunch with my Uncle Paul Walsh in Santa Fe Sunday morning, then made it to El Paso that evening for dinner with Aunt Elizabeth Walsh.

Highlights:
On the way to Santa Fe: Possibly the world's best hamburger - at Gloria's Cafe in Memphis, Texas, a tiny county seat surrounded by cotton fields.
The shift in terrain from the Texas Panhandle into New Mexico is dramatic - you can see the vegetation and geology inexplicably change almost instantly. Sorry, Texas, your desert is just not as pretty as New Mexico's.
The drive took about 11 hours, with pit stops.

In Santa Fe, whirlwind sightseeing. We've all been there more times we can recall and yet each time is such a treat. My first trip was in 1963 as a counselor at Brush Ranch high in Holy Ghost Canyon - the counselors made weekly car trips into the big city and even took the kids to the Opera. The city has more than doubled in size and this year seemed more beautiful than ever.
Meals at Gabriel's and Tecolote, pastry and coffee in the French patisserie in La Fonda. A tour of San Miguel, the oldest continuously operating church in the US (built in 1610 by Indians). The ritual walk along the row of Indian vendors outside Governors Palace. A lovely hour in the Georgia O'Keefe Museum. A car tour of the gorgeous Canyon Road galleries, delightful city neighborhoods, and fancy schmancy new housing northeast of town along the old Taos Highway.

The drive south to Las Cruces took us through one Native American reservation after another, with interesting vistas and almost no signs of humans near the highways. Signs informed us "Dusty Winds May Exist," which we found amusingly existential and noncommital, along with warnings of "High Activity Deer." I'm not aware of High Activity Deer in Texas. We even stopped at a tiny reservation casino (modular trailors on foundations) to avail ourselves of the facilities and enjoy the sight of jolly middle-aged Indians playing slots and having fun together. Although we were tempted, we didn't stop to see the Very Large Array west of Socorro - an observatory with 27 radio antennae.

After oohing and aahing at the lush Rio Grande Valley vistas, Elephant Butte, and the Organ Mountains, we arrived in Old Mesilla at twilight, just in time to catch the end of a Dia de Los Muertos Fiesta in the historic square. On the west side of Las Cruces, Old Mesilla once was the capitol of Arizona and New Mexico. Our family has gone there as long as memory serves to dine at La Posta (the only remaining building and postal stop on the old Butterfield Trail). It's next to the courthouse where Billy the Kid was tried and sentenced to hang - certainly a vivid story from my childhood.
More pictures of the Dia de Los Muertos altars and fiesta are in the album in the left column: DiadeLosMuertos.

We drove into El Paso del Norte that night (about 5 hours from Santa Fe) with a La Posta meal to share with Aunt Elizabeth (also 90). She lives on the east side of Mount Franklin, where most of the Walsh and Wileman clan settled after living here and there over the years.

Elizabeth, Louise, mother and I paid our respects to the gravesites of Speaker Lee and Una Wileman as well as Harry and Henriette Walsh - far east past Fort Bliss. We cruised around Austin High School (Mother and Elizabeth's alma mater) and found Grandpa Wileman's old mom and pop grocery story - now a festive little Mexican grocery store. We think we found cousin Mary Beth's childhood home on Polk - well maintained!

After lunch Mother and I toured El Paso and are pleased to report that it looks very pretty, probably the most prosperous and dynamic I can recall after a lifetime of visits. We found William Beaumont Army Medical Center, where I was born, the apartment building and house the Wilemans lived in during my lifetime, the apartment building on Prospect the Walshes lived in, a couple of places where Mother and Louise lived, and so forth.

Downtown El Paso looks great - a walking city restoring its historic buildings, spruced up, and full of shoppers in its Golden Horseshoe of bargain shops. I was especially pleased to see that the central Plaza de Lagartos (Alligator Plaza) has been gentrified and continues to serve as an attractive hub. Alas, the sleepy old alligators who once lived there are gone; Grandfather Walsh took David and me there by bus once a year to see the gators and then take the trolley to the border with Juarez. Each of us could change a dollar into pesos and centavos to spend (after bargaining) in the Mercado.

Our El Paso tour included the obligatory Scenic Drive high on Mount Franklin, with a respectful view of the mountain pass to the north along the Rio Grande that earned the city its name. After that, more neighborhood visits and then a dip into lush McKelligan Canyon before dinner that night.

The 10 hour drive home Tuesday was, happily, uneventful. We had to admit that West Texas looked scrawny after the Panhandle and New Mexico, in spite of cotton fields, oil wells, and numerous wind farms. Total gas cost in my Prius? $90!
More pictures are in the album in the left column: SantaFe-ElPaso09

Chicago Journey October 09

I made a solo drive to Chicago (Brookfield) and back Oct. 7-14 to be with son Rob, his wife Maren and grandbabies Michael (3 years) and Juniper (19 months).

Each way I stopped through southern Illinois to be with Charlotte and Daniel Ward in their fabulous Longshadow Gardens retreat high in the hills of the Shawnee National Forest.

I had a lovely and most welcome couple of hours with my birth daughter Martha Boyd over spicy pozole in a Mexican restaurant on Chicago's west side. She's an urban organic garden and local food pioneer, working for Angelic Organics. While I was in town she and her crew of volunteers were creating a garden in a vacant lot owned by a Methodist church that planned to grow food for its congregation's food pantry while teaching folks in the community how to grow their own. Martha also is Vice-President of the Chicago/Calumet Underground Railroad Effort. Check out both of these organizations online - they're amazing, as is she.

And, my dear pal Bill Grivna drove east of his St. Louis home to Collinsville one day to meet me for a few hours' long-overdue visit. A tai chi teacher for decades as well as an actor, director and teacher (retired prof from U of I Edwardsville), Bill always lifts his friends' spirits. He was my first friend in graduate school at the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis, and I have treasured that friendship for now lo these unbelievably many years.

It was a wonderful, exhilarating, and inspiring journey - not marred by the sprained ankle that began it or the bronchitis at the end.

Pictures from the Brookfield Jenkinses are in the top album on the left: AAChicagoOct09. They are a very playful and loving family. The kids were sweet to me and to each other - for the most part! - and very good on our excursion to the Bengston Pumpkin Patch (a fall and Halloween-themed amusement park south of the city in a charming rural setting). Michael is an ambitious scientist: He plans to make the sun "very small and very cold" by covering it with snowflakes. Juniper is picking up vocabulary like a runaway train.

I didn't take pictures this year at Longshadow because the weather was lousy and my sprained ankle didn't invite long walks. But pictures from last year are in the Longshadow08 album in the left column archives.

FAMILY UNITING AND REUNITING

July 16-21, 2009, is something of a blur, in a good way. My son Rob, his wife Maren, and their children Michael (nearly 3) and Juniper (16 months) made their first family visit to Texas. They were joined by far-flung clan members who gathered to help celebrate my 65th birthday (May 23), Mother's upcoming 90th (Nov. 1), Rob and Maren's sixth anniversary (July 19), and Eric (Big E) Lawson's birthday the following week (July 23).

Barbara Griffin (newly and most happily married to Thom, who couldn't join us) flew in from Massachusetts, while the Steinbach four (Diana, Stefan, Katrina, and Eric - aka Little E) flew from San Rafael, California. From Camarillo, California came Adria and Vanessa Martinez, my cousin Karl's nieces (really his "adopted" daughters). Their cousin Eric (Big E) had gone to Austin earlier to check out the music scene (he's a master percussionist looking for a musical home) and joined us by bus. All those folks stayed in a nearby motel with an indoor pool we all were able to enjoy. I rented a minivan so they could use my car and I'd have a vehicle big enough for Rob's family, my mom, and me.

Meanwhile, Uncle Paul (Brother Paul Walsh, a Christian Brother) drove in from Santa Fe and stayed here with his sister, Aunt Louise Lawson. Since Louise lives close to my mother Alice Walsh and me, we were able to get together easily with all the others.

Friday a bunch of us rode the miniature train that winds through Fort Worth's Trinity Park. That night we had dinner at Louise's and later some of us frolicked in the motel pool. (We also had a fancy wading pool at our house - a giraffe that squirts water through its nose and a little slide).

Saturday I took Rob's family and mother to the National Cowgirl Museum, which has some delightful interactive exhibits for children, including temporary installations from the Children's Science Museum (the new one's under construction). Michael and Juniper drove a car and a train, enjoyed a play house and play shopping, and created a play picnic inside a tipi. From there we joined others in the Stockyards for the daily event in which cowboys drive a small herd of longhorn down historic Exchange Avenue. Then Mother treated all the clan to dinner outside in one of the luxuriant Joe T. Garcia courtyards. It's what my father would have insisted on doing. The otherwise terrific day was marred only by Mother's falling down stairs on the way out - nothing broken, nothing that isn't healing, albeit slowly.

Sunday some close friends came by, many more children in tow, to meet or reunite with Rob's family. None had met my grandchildren and many hadn't met Maren. Most had known Rob and me most of our and/or their lives. Folks created impressive sidewalk art in the driveway while others helped Rob hang a new bird feeder for me from a high tree branch. Some of the kids were treated to the lollipops that had blossomed on our lollipop tree (a tradition my father began many years ago). Everyone feasted and gabbed, Big E played piano, and we sprawled about the house, courtyard and front porch (in spite of the humidity and heat). Beginning at 5, photographer Mary Cretsinger skillfully managed to take about ten photos of various groupings of us. My grandson Mikey might have been the major challenge for her, since he was determined to go shirtless and be known only as "Rhino." There was more family time that night by the pool for some.

Adria, Vanessa, and Big E flew out Monday morning to Toronto, where they would join others in their family for a lakeside Canadian holiday. Barbara returned to Massachutts and her new husband. The Steinbachs went to a movie while Mother and I took Rob's crew to the zoo. We saw the Steinbachs briefly at the end of the day as they prepared to fly back to California. Then Paul and Louise had dinner with the remaining Jenkins/Walsh gang. Mikey (Rhino) and Juniper played very sweetly with toys we had kept from when their father was a little boy, read books, explored the house.

Tuesday morning I returned the minivan, drove Rob's family to the airport, and went to work that afternoon at the Child Study Center (Autism Services). Hard to believe something we'd looked forward to and planned for so long was over so soon.

Photos from these events - see the left column of albums for "AA July 2009."

Many Birthdays in Chicago

March 14 the Chicago Jenkinses celebrated Juniper's first birthday, Maren's 41st, and Sophia's 8th. I spent five days on Sunnyside Ave. playing with the kids, working in the yard, hanging out with the family. Photos can be seen in the albums in this blog's left column: ChicagoMarch09.

MY BRUSH WITH BLAGOJEVICH

True story. Late summer/early fall 2002, I got an upfront and very personal glimpse of Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich's quid pro quo political personality. Thinking (wrongly) I was someone with money to help his gubernatorial bid, he made a play for same (nonexistent) money.

Let me set the scene. We were at a private dinner party in Southern California thrown for him by U.S. Representative Loretta Sanchez. She and Blagojevich (and her sister Linda) were House colleagues. Why she threw the party I don't know, except they probably were engaging in some sort of you-help-me-I-help-you, which is perfectly legitimate and ordinary. (For the record, I attended several Sanchez events and never witnessed any unethical behavior by either sister.) I was there as the guest of my boss, a wealthy doctor who was wooing politicians for funds to benefit his extremely deserving private HIV research laboratory.

Making the rounds of attendees during the pre-dinner cocktail hour, Blagojevich reached me. He didn't know who had money and who didn't, so he approached everyone as if we might lay his golden eggs. We engaged in typical party chitchat. I had a few cards to play: He'd attended Northwestern and I had taught there, I had lived in Illinois for fourteen years and my son still lived there, he's Serbian-American and I had been to Serbia a couple of times, and - probably the kicker - my son was a champion Chicago darts player who once played for a team sponsored by a Chicago Serbian.

Blagojevich leaned close and asked, "Is there anything I can do for your son?" He gave that question just the right intonation and shading to signal he meant could he find a job for my son - or, who knows, perhaps something shadier - if I helped him become governor.

I replied that he could help Chicago maintain a supply of affordable homes for the middle-class, the folks who worked in the city but were getting priced out of buying houses there. Chicago, I maintained, was going the way of Los Angeles, New York, and San Francisco. (Also for the record, even if I had money I wouldn't have used it to play his smarmy game.)

Rearing back, Blagojevich looked at me like I was crazy. What - did I really expect him to follow through on his promise to be a populist Democratic governor who gave a damn about ordinary people like, oh, maybe his own parents? He quickly turned from me to look for another prey.

Later he spoke earnestly to our twenty or so dinnermates about the era of reform he would bring to Illinois. I almost believed him, in spite of his ridiculous hair. He seemed to fashion himself a new JFK. I wondered if a Los Angeles stylist might take a whack at that hair helmet and give him a better first impression.

That night I considered a Blagojevich a typical politician with some promise. Apparently the people of Illinois believed the same when they elected him Governor. Who could have imagined what a demented monster he would become?

Well, maybe the hair was the tip off we ignored; clearly he lived in an alternate reality if he thought he had good hair. But if he was so lacking in political smarts that he would blatantly offer a payoff to someone like me, he was a disaster waiting to happen.

Chicago and Back - October 08

For most of the first two weeks of October I wound my way up to the Chicago area and back, visiting friends Charlotte and Daniel in southern Illinois before staying a week with Rob and Maren's family in Brookfield, then stopping through Weir to see Irene Jenkins (and Dave and Becky and Davey and grandkids), and finally having an all-too brief reunion in Arkansas with Janie and Lyndsy Jenkins (and finally meeting Janie's husband Tony).

Charlotte Peters and Daniel Ward own a sprawling 100 acres near Pomona, IL, where they've built a thriving landscape ornament business and are nourishing the property with beautiful additions that protect the wilderness and the land. (I've known them since we lived in Evanston in the 1980s and have watched Longshadow Gardens evolve over the years, each phase more beautiful than before.)
The first night we celebrated our reunion with champagne from the round wooden bench on top of their soaring circular storage shed - surrounded by the great circle of earth, sky, and sunset.

I stayed in the Airstream "Bambi" next to their pond.
Late that night from a bench on the Bambi patio I watched the stars in a sky more spangled than I've seen since, when? 35 years ago on Mt. Shasta? Where Charlotte recently scattered the ashes of her son Alex? Trust Charlotte to create beauty in this world of suffering.

After a morning of hiking and photography and coffee and more visiting, I was off to Brookfield to see my kinder. See Longshadow08 in the Photo Albums in the left column.

My son Rob, his wife Maren, and their children Michael James (26 months) and Juniper Ruby (7 months) live in Brookfield, IL, a sweet village just west of Chicago. They can enjoy a quiet life with starry skies next to the very big zoo - and they have the Big City close by. The children are, needless to say, beautiful and bright and fun and adorable and - like their parents - as nearly perfect as humans can be. Such a loving, playful family!

The five of us took the train (4 blocks from them) into Chicago on Saturday to go up into the Sears Tower on a day perfectly clear for viewing. Otherwise we played and worked. Maren's mother Donna stayed for a couple of nights while Maren went to a conference in New York; Donna and I alternated child care and house/yard work, thankful as always for the loving and competent presence of nanny Aggie. See Chicago-Oct.08 in the Photo Albums in the left column.

Finally it was time to leave. I drove south, hoping to make it to Weir, Kansas, in one day but becoming too exhausted to make it past Marshfield, IL. A good night's rest (and hot bath and hair wash!), then on to Weir the next day. I enjoyed a brief visit with Irene Jenkins, who recently was in the hospital but now is in the tender care of her son Dave and his wife Becky. Dave's son Davey stopped by with his daughter Jessie and a slew of other grandkids. I appreciate the clan's inclusion of me after all the years - they're wonderful people and Weir's green calm always soothes me.

That afternoon I headed for Holiday Island, Arkansas, just west of Eureka Springs, to see John Jenkins' sister Janie and (finally!) meet her husband Tony. I hadn't seen Jane since I left for Los Angeles in 1989; that fall I celebrated Halloween in Weir and Arma with her and Barbara another-ex-Jenkins (wearing silly wigs and having way too much fun). As a plus, Glen and Bev Jenkins' daughter Lyndsy had just driven up to Arkansas to live with Jane and Tony; I don't think I had seen her since she was a toddler. I can report that she's lovely and fun and on her way to good fortune. We spent that evening in Jane and Tony's wooded retreat, chewing over politics, lamenting Bush/McCain/Palin, and hoping for Obama.

The next day, after visiting Tony and Jane's vet clinic in Eureka Springs, the femme trio enjoyed a delicious lunch at The Oasis Cafe (clearly the Place to Be and Best Food in Town).

Alas, I had to be On the Road Again. Many hours later I pulled into ye olde abode on Granite Shoals. Mother was fine, as was cat Shanghai and Aunt Louise. Gas for the entire adventure in my Prius cost approximately $150. Tip: When possible, buy gas in Missouri (possibly the cheapest in the country, maybe not the cleanest). And so endeth this tale.

South Texas Sojourn

August 2-4 I drove my new Prius - Mother aboard - into South Texas (average 40+ mpg and it's getting better!), travelling as much as possible on country highways. We stayed at the Inn of the Hills in Kerrville to meet with friends from way back and attend a family party on Sunday. On Monday we took care of family business in San Antonio.

Joanne Story, her daughter Jane Story Looke, and Jane's children Joanne (3) and Elijah (6) made a long trek from San Antonio to spend a few hours with us in Kerrville Sunday noon. Pictures from that visit are in the Storys808 album (see left column, and I truly hope there will be more re-uniting with these wonderful people in the not too distant future.

Sunday afternoon my cousin Mary Beth Walsh Bauer and her husband Steve threw a bash for their fabulous son Lance, who is about to enter A&M.
We gathered with their friends and families along a private stretch of Johnson Creek, near Ingram (where the Bauers own a couple of feed stores) and not far from Mary Beth and Steve's ranch in Harper. Clear water, a nice breeze, plenty of shade, an ole swimming hole for the kids (replete with rope swing), and tables groaning with delicious BBQ. Behind us burbled a freshwater spring gushing from under white cliff walls. We could discern pioneer wagon ruts through the shallow creek water that suggested tales of folks using the creek bed as their highway once upon a time.
And this had to be a favorite haunt of Indians, so beautifully situated and fortified, such clean water, and so sweet the air.

Photos from the Bauer bash are in the Bauer808 album in the left column.

Additional photos of the Johnson Creek setting are in creekscape in the left column.

On Monday Mother and I drove to Porter Loring Mortuary in San Antonio to arrange for a headstone for her grandmother, Eula Presley Lewis Crowson.
Not long ago we learned she was buried in Roselawn Cemetery there (now San Fernando #3) at the beginning of 1930 without a headstone, after suffering a stroke while hospitalized in San Antonio (she lived in El Paso). Mother shares her first name - Eula. It was a good way to pay tribute to Eula Crowson. After her first husband died, leaving her a widow with two sons and a daughter, his family (the Lewises) took the boys to live with them. She and her daughter Una (my grandmother) had little or nothing to do with them after that, which seems heartbreaking. When the headstone is finished I'll add a photo of it to the EulaCrowson album.

Photos of Eula Crowson's gravesite are in EulaCrowson in the left column.

Linda Walsh Jenkins