Fun Fact Involving French Fries

Fun Fact Involving French Fries

Did you know this?

That Oregon + Idaho = Ore-Ida?

I am sure everyone knows this but me.

I rarely buy Ore-Ida products, but I grabbed a bag at the store today to keep on hand for when I need a quick side. I guess if I ever stopped to think about it for more than two seconds before dumping the bag contents on a tray, or averted my eyes from maniacally focusing on the baking instructions, I may have discovered that I now live in the finest potato growing region in America before today. Fantastic.

Got to Use my Oregon’s Drivers License

I got to test out my freshly minted Oregon driver’s license when I was back home a few weeks ago.

I stopped at the liquor store on the way to my parents’ house one night.

I got carded. Since I am closer to 40 than 30, this was very exciting. Until it wasn’t.

I handed the gal my license.

She goes: “OMG! Where are you FROM?”

Well, since it says OREGON in giant blue letters across the top, I’m gonna go with that: “Oregon.”

She said: “Wow, that’s far.”

Mmmhmm. It sure is.

She then said: “Sorry. This is expired.”

I laughed and said, “Well, I just got it in the mail last weekend AND the TSA let me board the plane to get here, so it should be fine.”

She stared at my license as if she was examining a newly discovered life form and she was trying to memorize all its features for cataloging back at the lab. I am sure I was only standing there for an awkward two minutes, but due to her intense scrutiny and the fact that my freaking weight is printed on this thing along side of my ugliest license picture ever, it felt like an entire lifetime.

She said, “No, it’s definitely expired.”

I said, “That’s definitely impossible. I literally just got it in the mail after passing my written test a few weeks ago. And I used it to board my plane on Tuesday. They wouldn’t have let me on the plane if it was expired.”

More scrutiny.

Finally, she said: “OOOOOOOH! It was ISSUED on FEBRUARY 12, 2013, not expired then.” Ta da! She then proceeded to tell me that it doesn’t expire until 2021. This was news to me because when it came I just shoved it in my wallet in an attempt to not scar my self confidence further with the atrocity of that picture.

DEAR HEAVENS.

I have to live with this picture for EIGHT YEARS? EIGHT YEARS?

It’s an ugly picture. I know everyone hates their license picture, but this really IS my worst license picture to date, and it’s definitely in the running for one of my worst pictures ever. They make you take off your glasses and look at a tiny pinhole of light. Well, since I really can’t see without my glasses, and they made me smile, I look ridiculous. That is, I look overly happy for a gal with long witch hair and eyes that seem to be looking slightly in opposite directions.

Then, of course, since I was already wallowing in the sadness of having to look at this goofy picture frequently for the next eight years, I realized that when I get my new license, I will be in my mid-40s on the side that’s closer to 50. Wow. Good thing I was at the liquor store. Haha.

Trying to pull myself out my “I hate my new driver’s license!” rut, I came up with these positives:

  1. Less time at the DMV.
  2. Less money sent to the DMV.
  3. Plenty of time to change the number listed next to weight – haha!
  4. Plenty of time to plan to wear my contacts to hopefully correct my crazy eyes in the next picture.
  5. Plenty of time to cut off my witch hair (already done!) and grow it back in if I desire.
  6. Plenty of time to age so I stop getting carded and never have to experience the insanity in foreign-state liquor stores again.

Meh. Those only made me feel marginally better. I am adding “short license time” to the list of things I miss about Pennsylvania. Four years is nothin’!

Look, Dad!

I found the family car from my childhood – a little beat up, but alive and well right here in Portland!

Hahaha!

Bad shot, but we were driving and the camera wasn’t cooperating. No worries, though. You can still tell it’s a rad, two-toned pale blue station wagon with rear-facing seats in the way back. 🙂

Car from my childhood

 

Oregon’s Got Huge Worms

On a recent family outing, Grace shouted, “OH MY GOODNESS – LOOK AT THAT HUGE WORM.”

See worm:

Huge "Worm"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hilarious.

(It’s in the grass between the lease sign and the yellow power line in case you missed it. Oh, and obviously, it’s not a worm. It’s a pipe.)

 

Grandmoms and Angels

Before we left for Philadelphia and when we got there, a few folks asked about how I’d handle telling Grace why we were going home and what I’d be doing with her for the funeral. We typically try to be as honest as we can with our kids – based on what we think they can handle, what they actually need to know and making sure whatever we tell them is in line with their ages (read: I won’t be mortified if they repeat it to their friends. Haha.)

Grace did ask me why we had to go home on the way to the airport. I told her that we had a family emergency and I needed to go home to be with Gram and Pop. She asked, “Emergency? What’s that?” I said that an emergency was an important situation that needed to be taken care of immediately. I then followed by telling her that my “gram” (which is what she calls her grandmothers) – or Gram Flannery’s mom – had passed away and we needed to go home to go to church to say some prayers for her and give Gram some hugs. She was good with that for a few minutes. She then asked, “Is your Gram an angel now?” I told her yes, my Gram was an angel now. And she said, “And she’s sleeping?” I said, “Yes. She’s sleeping happily.”

My kids have lost three great-grandparents in recent years, and because they were part of the regular crew at family functions, we’ve had to answer questions about where they were. The concept of angels came into play when Kenny’s grandmother passed away right after we moved to Oregon. My kids immediately noticed she wasn’t in “her chair” when they went home to visit on Christmas. Seeing that they were five and three at the time – you can imagine that was certainly an emotional moment for everyone. At the same time, it was kind of a special and happy moment (well, to me, anyway!) because they remembered her, missed her presence at our family party, and thought enough to ask about her. I believe great grandpop told them great grandmom was an angel now and the concept stuck.

Recalling that, Grace’s next question was, “Is she an angel like my other angel grandmom?” Yes, Grace. Yes, she is.

Sadly, Gavin and Grace didn’t get to know great grandmom Newman very well. She had been in a nursing home and was suffering with dementia for a few years before either of them were born. Apparently Grace picked up on that, because over the course of the next 36 hours, she asked many questions about her great grandmom Newman. And many questions about angels.

  • Grace: Did you love her?
  • Me: Yes, of course.
  • Grace: As much as I love Gram?
  • Me: Yep!
  • Grace: As much as I love you? and Dad?
  • Me: Sure!

 

  • Grace: Do you ‘member her?
  • Me: Yep.

 

  • Grace: Was she young? or old?
  • Me: She was young like you once. And young like me once. And young like Gram, but right now she is 81.
  • Grace (giant eyes): 81? That’s VERRRRRRRY old. Then she giggled.

 

  • Grace: Was she nice?
  • Me: Yes, she was very nice. She loved mommy, and Uncle Dennis and Uncle Kevin and Alexandrea very much. She also loved Gram and Aunt Debbie and Uncle Johnny.
  • Grace: Did she love me? and Gavin?
  • Me: Yes. And I am sure she wishes she was able to spend time playing with you.
  • Grace: Well, then, why did she want to be an angel?
  • Me: She was very tired. And I think when you become an angel, you get a lot of rest.
  • Grace: Is she happy she’s an angel?
  • Me: I would think so. She’s up in heaven with the other angels. And it’s supposed to be very nice there.

 

  • Grace: Why do we have to go to church?
  • Me: To say some prayers for great grandmom.
  • Grace: Why do we have to say prayers?
  • Me: To send our best wishes for her up to heaven.
  • Grace: Like what kind of prayers?
  • Me: Like whatever you want. You can just ask God to watch over her and keep her safe.
  • Grace: Can I ask him to take care of her? And make sure she eats her dinner? And give her snacks?
  • Me: Yes.

 

The night before the funeral, we were laying in bed talking about school friends and who she missed at home. She suddenly sat up and leaned over my body. She put her face very close to mine.

  • Grace (with big eyes): Wait. Is she going to become an angel AT church? Like this? (making a circle with her hands on the top of her head for a halo). Like this? (Moving her arms up and down like flapping wings).
  • Me: No, she’ll just be sleeping. She’s already an angel.
  • Grace: Why is she sleeping?
  • Me: She’s very tired. She had a long life and now needs to rest.
  • Grace: I like to sleep when I get tired. I like to sleep when I am cranky, too.

 

At the funeral, we set Grace up in the back of the church. She had snacks and activities – and plenty of company (family and family friends) to keep her calm and occupied. At one point, she called me over.

  • Grace while pointing her chubby little four-year-old index finger three times towards the front of the church:  I want to see her.
  • Me (trying to stall while I decided if this was a smart idea. I knew in my gut it wasn’t.): Great grandmom?
  • Grace: Yes. (and she started shuffling to the end of the pew.)
  • Me: Well, she’s sleeping and there are other people visiting with her right now. (Phew.) Why don’t we check out the pictures instead?
  • Grace (big smile):  OK!
  • Me: Giant sigh of relief. 

 

She asked two more times if she could see her, and each time I was able to divert her attention. My grandmom looked beautiful and peaceful. But I would rather Grace remember her through pictures and stories.

While sitting in the airport Sunday on the way home, Grace had one last question for me.

  • Grace: Do you miss your Gram?
  • Me: Yes, Grace.
  • Grace: Me, too.

She paused, then said, “I miss my whole fam-a-lee! But it’s OK. It’s OK. I can take two airplanes to see them. Not three, Mom. I only like to take two.” And then she scampered off the chair to play toys.