Sunday, September 29, 2013

The Moon Festival

On the fifteenth day of the eighth month of the Chinese calendar, during a full moon, certain Asian cultures (China, Vietnam, and Taiwan for the most part) celebrate the mid-Autumn, or Moon, Festival. It occurs in late September or early October. This year, the festival fell on September 19. Since we believe that it is important to celebrate Grace's Chinese heritage, we always get together with other families in the area who've adopted Asian children--mostly China, but there are some kids from Taiwan and Vietnam--to celebrate the moon festival. 

It is a great opportunity for Grace to get together with Asian kids her age who are in similar circumstances, and we've made a lot of good friends with other adoptive parents. 

Our group normally has a potluck dinner at the Moon Festival. In past years, I've eaten a small meal beforehand, watched everyone else eat at the festival, then eaten another meal when we finally get home after 9 PM. This year, I wanted to eat at the event. A few weeks ago, I bought a couple Blender Bottles from The Vitamin Shoppe near my house. They were $10 apiece but I didn't think I'd find them anywhere else so I went ahead and got them. Then, a few days later I saw a whole bin full of them at Bed Bath & Beyond for $6 each. Happens every time, right? Anyway, they are the perfect size for me to store a meal, they're simple to clean, and have a wide enough mouth for easy pouring. 


BPA Free!!!! Whatever that means.


So, I blended up some leftovers (tilapia, potato soup, blueberries, and a slice of gluten-free banana bread Betsy made for the festival) in the Blendtec and put them in a Blender Bottle before we left. 

I have to admit that it still takes me a lot of courage to eat in front of other people, especially strangers. I know what you're thinking, "If it's so hard for you, Brian, why do you have a blog about publicly tubefeeding??" Well, the truth is, no one actually reads this blog, so it's really more of a "diary"....HA HA HA! Just kidding, thousands of people read this blog every day. Tens of thousands. I get a million hits on this blog every week. My blog's been featured on Oprah. It's been translated into 27 different languages. It'll be the action-packed summer blockbuster of 2014.

Back to reality. If I'm with friends or family sitting around a more intimate table at a restaurant, I'm more comfortable. However, at the Moon Festival I was sitting at a picnic table, surrounded by families I hadn't met before. My feeding tube holder wouldn't fit on the edge of the table, so it was awkwardly clipped at a low angle. The bench I was sitting on was closer to the table than I like to be. I stubbornly didn't ask Betsy to help and push my food in for me, because I didn't want to make more of a scene than I already was. Grace was sitting next to me and Betsy was having a nice conversation with the friendly mother seated across from us. I don't know if my food wasn't blended up enough (I doubt it; I blended for a while), or the tube holder was keeping the tube so low that it caused a kink in my tube, but my blend was proving to be really hard to push in. I should have asked Betsy to push in the food or added some water to the blend and shaken it up to be a little thinner, but I just pushed harder on the plunger. Of course, Betsy was in the middle of talking to her new friend when I pushed too hard, the tube popped off, and blended food spurted everywhere around me. I was extremely embarrassed, Grace was loudly complaining that I got food on her new shirt, and I don't know who else got the blend on them (this was a blend that included leftover fish too). Just a couple minutes before this happened, another guy at the table dropped his water bottle and got a few drops on me. I remember thinking, "that's real considerate; spills water on me and he doesn't even apologize?" So I just sprayed a fish blend on these people...great. I tried to mop up what I could with my dish towel, grabbed my tube and plunger, mumbled something to Betsy about going to the bathroom, and got the hell out of there.

So yeah, it's still really hard for me to tubefeed in front of strangers, especially when disaster strikes. I guess incidents like this will just give me more courage in the future. I can say, "Sure, I got a bad clog in my tube, but at least I didn't spray fish juice on everyone within a 10 ft. radius!"

So, other than The Infamous Fish Explosion of 2013 (that's what the pundits are calling it now) we had a really pleasant evening. Grace and the other kids made their own lanterns. Then, they listened to a story about the moon festival. After that they took a parade walk around the park--stopping along the way for a group photo. Finally, the best part of the evening (right when the full moon was rising!) was when each family lit a paper lantern and let it fly up into the night sky. It was a beautiful sight to see. Grace didn't want to leave and is already talking excitedly about next year.



Grace and best friend on the lantern walk



Group photo. I remember when Grace was the smallest one and sat in the front. *sniff, sniff 



Lighting the lantern




"Yep, it's on fire!"


Up they go! 100% environmentally friendly (at least that's what the box says)


I think she's laying in duck poop



Monday, September 9, 2013

The next blockbuster

Pasta Wars: The year is 3145 AD. A dystopian future where all food is tasteless pink goo and everyone eats through feeding tubes. There aren't even flying cars. Or personal jetpacks. On one cold autumn morning, our young protagonist is looking through his great-grandmother's old things when he discovers an ancient, handwritten index card, yellowed and brittle with age. On it, in flowing cursive, is a recipe for mac and cheese. His life, and the lives of all people who eke a living in that grim time, are forever altered by that event. 

Alternate story line - Type 2 Diabetes Strikes Back - Our young protagonist is digging in the barren lot outside his grey, blocky apartment complex when he unearths a box of Twinkie's. Astoundingly, the cream-filled cakes taste the same as the day they were made more than 1,000 years ago. Obesity once again threatens the earth.

George Lucas has been uninterested in my repeated attempts to sell him this storyline. I think this could be the breakthrough that sends his filmmaking career skyrocketing.

Sunday, September 1, 2013

The Cheesecake Factory


Ah, The Cheesecake Factory. The factory where cheesecake is made. The place where cheesecake is born. 

"Mommy, where does cheesecake come from?" 

"Why, from The Cheesecake Factory, dear. Now shut up and stop asking so many damn questions."

Honestly, is there a restaurant with a better name than "The Cheesecake Factory"?? 

The Olive Garden? No, a lot of people don't like olives. I don't like olives. Do they only serve olives? I thought olives grew on trees. So shouldn't it be The Olive Orchard?

Aren't those grapes on your sign? Where's the olives, damn it???

Chili's? Does that mean all your food is spicy? I don't like spicy food. Or Mexican? It's not Mexican though. Or do you only serve chili there? I'm confused. I don't like to be confused about the place where I eat. Why name your restaurant after a spicy vegetable? Why not a vegetable for the everyman, like the potato? Let's all eat at Potato's! Potato Head? I'm getting off track.

Who wouldn't like Mr. Potato Head's?

The Outback? That's just a big desert in Australia. Why not call your restaurant The Sahara or The Gobi, because nothing makes me think about food like the thought of a place where THERE IS NO FOOD! COME ON, PEOPLE!!!!

There's an onion bloomin' out there somewhere; I know it!!

Ruby Tuesday? That name comes from a Rolling Stones song allegedly about Keith Richard's girlfriend, who was messed up on drugs (true story; look it up on Wikipedia). Sooooo...let's all eat at the crack house? Is that what you're saying? Do they even research this stuff before they pick out a name?? "OOHHH! Let's call our new restaurant 'Blurred Lines' after that new Robin Thicke song!!! Who cares what that song is about or what Miley Cyrus did at the VMAs; isn't the name cool??"

Sure, Keith, your "girlfriend" was the one on drugs

TGIF? No way. Are you only supposed to eat there on Fridays? And what about atheists? They're not thanking God it's Friday. Buddhists are thanking that big tubby dude. And he probably eats at The Cheesecake Factory anyway--or Dunkin' Donuts. Just look at him! Hindus are thanking multiple Gods that it's Friday. Or they're thanking cows. I'm an ignorant American so I honestly don't know. Regardless, TGIF is clearly not all inclusive.

"Thank Allah It's Friday! Because it's Ramadan and I still can't eat."

The Cheesecake Factory--now THERE'S a name!!! Who doesn't love cheesecake? Seriously, who doesn't like it because I will force it down your throat until you do!! Don't even talk to me about your lactose intolerance! Also, by naming their restaurant The Cheesecake Factory, they've guaranteed that every customer will get desert. Nobody goes to The Cheesecake Factory just for their salads. Do people go to Hooter's just for the food? Sorry, poor analogy; Betsy loves their fried pickles. Anyway, The Cheesecake Factory has every possible variety of cheesecake to choose from. From a casual perusal of their menu I count 31 varieties of cheesecake. 31!!! Strawberry, you ask? Yeah. Chocolate? Yep. Banana cream? That too. How about chocolate chip cookie dough?? Uh huh. But what about chocolate chip coconut cheesecake with layers of chocolate cake, brownie and coconut pecan frosting??? Oh yeah, that's called "Chris' Outrageous Cheesecake," so thank you, Chris, for that bit of craziness. "But Brian," you say, "do they have gluten free cheesecake??" As a matter of fact, dear reader, their Godiva Chocolate Cheesecake is flourless so you can eat it until you've entered a coma without feeling guilty. Well, except for the sugar. Too much sugar is frowned upon these days. What they really need is a low carb cheesecake with strawberries sweetened with Splenda. Wait, what??? They have that too?!? ARE THEY READING MY MIND?!?!?

I've gotten fatter just looking at it

So, a Cheesecake Factory opened here in Knoxville (less than a mile from my house!!!) a few months ago. Betsy's parents were visiting to see Betsy's youngest sister, Sarah's, baby and we wanted to go out to celebrate Sarah getting a new job. We figured the crowds had died down enough since the grand opening for us to get a seat at The Cheesecake Factory so I packed up the Blendtec and we headed over there on Friday. Before we went, Betsy called ahead and told them about me eating through a tube. They said no problem and told us to ask for Richard. We got there and the place was really packed, but we didn't have to wait more than a few minutes for a table.

The place where dreams come true

The Cheesecake Factory doesn't have a gluten free menu. Apparently, they are working on it and hope to come out with one at the end of the year. They do highlight some of their menu items that are gluten free or can easily be modified. I got the salmon with broccoli and mashed potatoes. As usual, I told them to put all the food in the pitcher, add a cup and a half of water, flip the Blendtec on, and hit the soup/fondue button. The blend came out well blended, if a little on the hot side. I thought about having them throw a slice of the Godiva chocolate cheesecake in there but I'm glad I didn't. The salmon meal was extremely filling and it was already a thick blend without adding cheesecake to it.

Grace is just thinking about cheesecake

Everyone else at our table liked their meals. Our waitress was excellent and Richard the manager was very attentive to my special needs. The one negative thing I'll say about The Cheesecake Factory is their cocktails. Betsy got an Asian Pear Martini, which was delicious. Then we got the bill. That martini cost $10.50!!! Betsy's mom got a Pomegranate Margarita, which we discovered was $10!! My advice is to drink water and get drunk on cheesecake.

Our excellent manager, Richard Potter

Oh, and I took my Godiva Chocolate Cheesecake home, ate it on Saturday, and it was delicious!! At least I imagine it was; I didn't taste it.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Camping

Betsy and Katie (Hey Brian, watcha doin.) share the same birthday--I say this because there may be one or two readers who don't understand the concept of "twins." Also Katie's husband Jimmy's birthday is the day before theirs, so we usually celebrate together with some sort of exciting activity (on their 30th birthday we all went skydiving). The weekend before the girls' 40th birthdays (I think Jimmy turned 87), we decided to start a yearly tradition where we all go camping. 

Betsy, it should be noted, does not like camping. She has been camping once before in Colorado. Betsy, Katie, Jimmy, my sister Ginger, myself, and two dogs went up in the mountains outside Colorado Springs and camped on a lake. Ginger and I hiked through the mountains to get there and the others drove around and met us at the site with the tents, food, and other equipment. This was also on Betsy's birthday, and I had the same idea that it could be the beginning of a yearly tradition. Unfortunately, something about the idea of being outside in constant rain, chasing after our dog as she ran off after a squirrel or neighboring camper, squabbling with each other over who got the broken tent, eating subpar food cooked on an unsteady gas stove, dirt and mud on herself on the food and in the tent, fighting with the dog and her husband trying to find sleeping space on an inflatable mattress designed for one did not appeal to her. Oh yeah, and there were signs everywhere warning us about bears. Betsy was a little worried about bears. 

A number of years have gone by since then though. I like to think we can reminisce and laugh about these things in the distant past.

"Remember that miserable night we had in the tent where Lilly kept pushing us off the mattress and you thought every little noise was a ferocious bear? Good times."

I figured maybe enough time has gone by for us to try to reintroduce the yearly camping tradition. So, Katie, Jimmy and I got Grace really excited about camping. Then we set a date and of course Betsy had to go because her daughter might get eaten by a bear, and the yearly tradition is alive again!!!

We camped one night on the eastern side of Great Smoky Mountains National Park at a lovely campground called Smokemont. In my opinion, this still isn't "real" camping because we didn't hike 10 miles to get to the site, there were actual bathrooms with running water (and toilet paper! Why use TP when a few sturdy leaves will suffice?), we were not out in the wilderness for days with no sign of modern civilization, and there was no real danger of being eaten by bears since other campers were all around us and they would've been eaten first. But, we'll slowly work our way up to that.

I didn't bring my blender out during the trip; kind of a bummer. Smokemont's handicapped camp sites had electric hookups, but they were for CPAP machines and couldn't handle the energy requirements of the Blendtec. I've heard about diesel powered blenders that people make margaritas with while tailgating. Maybe the people who make this blender would like to get me one and sponsor my next camping trip (hint, hint)?? This time, I blended two meals beforehand, one for Saturday night, and one for Sunday morning. The dinner blend was leftovers from a meal I had at Magnolia Grill the night before, and the breakfast blend was the same thing I have every morning (banana, egg, sunflower butter, almond butter, whole milk plain yogurt, and green tea). I poured each meal in travel thermoses and put them in a cooler so they wouldn't spoil. Some people put their blends in ziplock bags and freeze them beforehand when they travel but this gets a bit unwieldy for a one-handed guy like me. So I prefer containers. I heard about "Blender Bottles" available at most health food stores, so I think I'll look into that for next time. I also brought along Ensures camping for snacks between meals.

This is the point where I share the awesome picture I took of me at the campsite picnic table eating my meal through a tube with tent and campfire in the background. I promise I did have that picture on my phone and was all prepared to post it here. Then, a few days after we went camping, my phone got tired of living and leaped out of my shorts and into a nearby swimming pool. Or maybe I was a moron and foolishly went in the pool without taking my phone out of my pocket. I have dim recollections of this event. Regardless, I lost all my pictures. So, you'll have to settle with some photos Katie took of the trip.

Sleeping on gravel sure does suck when the air mattress has a hole in it
REAL camping doesn't have picnic tables. You eat in the dirt, and you like it! You love it!

Note the bathroom in the background. What, are we at the Ramada??

Grace and cousin Julie at the start of an arduous hike through the wilderness
The creek near our tent where the girls got to do some tubing

Betsy has TENTATIVELY agreed to go camping again, so the trip was a success! We'll be through-hiking the Appalachian Trail while living off the land in a couple years!!! By that time, we'll have perfected the Baby Bird Method* of tubefeeding where Betsy and Grace chew up food and regurgitate it into my tube.

*Patent pending

Thursday, August 8, 2013

My Pity Party

Betsy always says she is amazed at my great attitude through all this. I rarely complain and try to keep my sense of humor, but I'm allowed to vent every once in a while, right? Can I lament the things I've lost in the last few years?

Children stare at me, I am constantly mistaken for a girl on the phone, people often don't understand me when I talk, I drool in public, I can no longer juggle, do flips on the trampoline, ride a two-wheeled bike, paddle a boat with my hands, open a bag of chips without scissors, tie a shoe, tie a tie, zip a zipper, taste the foods I love, whistle, sing, swim, run, play soccer, or ultimate frisbee. I used to love playing ultimate frisbee. We went to a new indoor trampoline center the other day, and one of the girls we were with was demonstrating her back flip. All I could think was, I used to be able to do that. I'm so envious when anyone shows Grace a skill that I'm no longer capable of doing. This must be what it feels like to grow old, only it's happening to me in my 30's, rather than my 60's.

Betsy constantly tells me how good I look, how I don't look any different from the day she met me. This either implies that I am an extremely lucky man, or her LASIK surgery didn't go as well as we thought. I like to think of myself as the villain Two-Face from Batman: horribly disfigured on one side and devastatingly handsome on the other. OK, one of those is an exaggeration; you can decide which one.

I know! I know! Don't tell me about all the things I should be thankful for! I have this precious time with Grace. I'm not in a wheelchair. I don't have to be tethered to a feeding pump. I'm able to feed and dress myself. I can drive myself. I can hike. I ride a recumbent bike that my friend lent me. I don't have PTSD, ALS, CP, GP, MS, TBI, or any other acronym I can't think of right now. I get a great pension and health insurance from the military. I don't wallow in self pity, so you don't need to send me your, "Well at least you don't have ________, Brian!" messages. I can bitch about my situation without reproach now and then can't I?

Sometimes I feel like I'm not allowed to complain. If people complain too much then that's how they're labeled. "Pity party's over, dude. Quit your whining, suck it up, and come back to the real world," they'd say derisively. I see all these people around me or read about others online who are so much worse off than I am. What right do I have to moan about my petty problems? It's like when Grace cries because she lost a toy. When your kid cries over some imagined crisis don't you just want to yell, "SERIOUSLY??? There are millions of kids in this world who can't afford one toy, and you're whining about ONE of your TEN Barbie Dolls?!?"

But you don't say that to your child. You hold her and dry her tears until she stops crying. You try to put yourself in her shoes, remember what it was like when you were a kid. When your toys were the most important things in the world. So, can't I cry and whine like Grace once in a while? Have I spent enough time in hospitals to earn that?

So, this post is my one chance to express regret over something I've lost. I might complain some more in the future, but I'll try not to make a habit of it. Eric O'Gorman, another tubie whose blog I admire (he passed away last year), used to write posts every now and then called "What I Want Right Now." In these posts he would lament something he could no longer have, like a peanut butter sandwich (http://www.entropyandlight.blogspot.com/2010/11/things-i-want-right-now-7.html).

Following Eric's example, let me specify one thing I miss: applesauce. Applesauce is my favorite food. My mom used to make it when I was a kid and it was so delicious. She'd peel up a whole pile of apples from our tree and cook them in a little water with sugar and cinnamon. Then, she'd can them for us to use through the winter. It wasn't too chunky or too smooth. In the immortal words of Yo Gabba Gabba!, it was "a party in my tummy." I could go through a whole jar in one sitting. Don't you love the taste of applesauce??

Heaven in a Bowl

That is all.  

Monday, July 29, 2013

Washington - Vitamix vs. Blendtec

My dad paid for us to fly out to visit him in Washington. The cheapest flight we could find flew out of Atlanta, so we drove down to spend the night with Katie (Hey Brian watcha doin') and Jimmy. I packed my usual list of tubefeeding items: the Vitamix base, Vitamix pitcher, a two cup measuring cup, two different syringe holders that I use depending on the thickness of the table I'm eating at, extra syringes and plungers, two towels because the only time I make a mess is when I forget to use a towel, my meds, and a few cans of Ensure for when I'm on the plane or in the airport and can't use the blender.

We made the drive down to Katie's house, and I ordered a meal-to-go from Panera Bread (it's fun to order off their hidden menu; if you don't know what I'm talking about, look it up on their website: http://mypanera.panerabread.com/articlestips/article/access-into-paneras-hidden-menu/). I put my chicken with hummus salad in the blender and heard the satisfying roar as my food was liquified into the evening's dinner. 

Then, uh oh, all my food is leaking out of the bottom of the pitcher and onto Katie's counter. 

Of course this happens on the first night of our trip. We're at the beginning of an 8-day vacation, already three hours drive from my back-up blender in Knoxville. It's 7:00 PM but Betsy is contemplating driving to Knoxville to get my extra blender, meaning she wouldn't get to sleep until one or two in the morning. 

But there's another option. Because of my mom, we're members of Costco and most of their stores carry either a Vitamix or a Blendtec at a reduced price. We decided we could buy one of the blenders, use it while I'm in Washington, then return it to Costco on our way home using their excellent return policy. It's like I'm borrowing a brand new blender for a week. I've always had loyalty to the Vitamix because it was the blender I started out with and they have a fantastic warranty with awesome customer service. However, the Blendtec is $100 cheaper at Costco, and I've heard nothing but good things about it from online tubefeeding forums. So, we figure what the hell, and drive over to Costco just before it closes to get a shiny new Blendtec. Once we have it at Katie's house, I left the instuctional DVD and recipe book wrapped up and just packed the blender for the trip. Already, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the Blendtec doesn't take up as much room in my suitcase as the Vitamix did. Without even testing out the new blender, we went to bed, arose early the following day and boarded a plane for Portland. Traveling across the country with an untested blender and no instruction manual? I'm livin' on the edge!!!

At the Atlanta Airport, we took advantage of TSA's wounded warrior program where they escort disabled veterans to their gate. This has been a HUGE help to us. I always bring a few Ensures on the flight so it's nice to have a TSA representative get my formula and my suction machine through security with minimum fuss. Plus, they always help Betsy lug our carry-on baggage around. The flight to Portland was non-stop, so we didn't have to worry about luggage getting lost or trying to catch a connecting flight. The flight over was a pleasant experience in general.


"Long plane rides are AWESOME!!!"

We landed in Portland in the early afternoon. I had a craving for seafood, and the closest place we could find was the Portland Seafood Company. I brought in the new Blendtec and ordered the crab-stuffed Steelhead trout. The kitchen had no problem blending it up; the blend was nice and smooth and made it through my tube without incident. So, the first use of the Blendtec was a success!

Great place to eat with, or without, a blender

That's actually not water; it's vodka

From Portlnd, we drove a couple hours north to the booming metropolis of Winlock, Washington, where my dad has a 42 acre farm. When I say "booming metropolis" I mean a town with no stop lights where the biggest traffic jam occured when we hooked dad's horse up to a wagon and drove it to the only diner for miles around. What I'm trying to say is, my dad's pretty isolated. Yet he's doing what he loves to do. He keeps dogs, barn cats, chickens, ducks sitting on turkey eggs, cows, a working horse, pigs, pack goats for hiking and meat goats for slaughter. He has retired from an executive job at a paper company to work from sunup to sundown on his farm. It wouldn't be my idea of a pleasant retirement, but he is happy with the life he has built in rural Washington. 
Not an uncommon mode of transportation in Winlock
We stayed at his farm for a week. My dad sees family visits as an opportunity for free labor, so we helped him collect 350 bales of hay to store for winter. 
Uncharacteristically blue skies in western Washington
Betsy earning her keep
A panoramic of 350 bales of hay in my dad's barn
This job was actually much better than our visit last year when we took part in banding my dad's young goats. As it turns out, "banding" does not mean tagging the goats so that they can be recognized by the loving, caring farmer through the years of their carefree life. Instead, "banding" is where you fasten a small band (like a rubber band? I didn't look too closely) around the male goats' testicles so they'll eventually fall off. We corralled the baby goats into a shed and Betsy and I had to ensure they didn't escape while my dad and his wife flipped each cute little fellow over to forcibly remove their manhood. After the first goat went through this (His screams echo in my mind to this day), the other goats firgured out that they weren't in there for any type of reward. They did everything in their power to get past Betsy and I. That day, I died a little inside every time I pushed a screaming goat toward his grim fate. This is the reality of farming.

Anyway, throughout the weekend, I used the Blentec blender in their kitchen. This blender is awesome! The Vitamix has a much more simplistic design. It has an On/Off switch, a switch to go from Variable to High, and a Dial to adjust the speed during Variable Mode. In some ways, I like the simplicity. I'm blending meals so I only use the High setting and I estimate how long to blend. With the Blendtec, there are push button controls for pre-programmed settings and a small LCD screen to tell you how long you've been blending and the status of the machine. At first, this seemed like much more than I needed from my blender. However, I got accustomed to putting the food in the pitcher, hitting the Soups/Syrups/Fondues button and letting the blender do all the work. With this pre-programmed setting, the blender would quickly ramp up to top speed and blend for 90 seconds, which was the perfect amount of time for my meals. The only issue I had with the blender was that the lowest setting is still pretty high. With the Vitamix, blending a meal at the highest setting creates quite a bit of air, both in the blend and as foam on top. I like to get rid of this air by running the blend at the lowest setting for a while. This makes it so I'm not putting too much volume in my stomach. However, the Blendtec's lowest speed was still pretty high, and I wasn't as successful getting the air out.
Putting the "borrowed" blender to work
Despite this, the Blendtec is every bit as good as the Vitamix--better in some ways. It is considerably cheaper with the same warranty and excellent customer service. Plus, it is smaller than the Vitamix and easier to carry in my suitcase for long trips. Honestly, if the only problem is that the low speed is a little too high, then it's a pretty damn good blender.

Hauling hay bales wasn't the only thing we had to do on the farm. We also got to visit another farm owned by a banker (because making a living off farming with no other source of income is hard to do these days) to look at some cows he was selling. In addition, we went to Mount St. Helens, which was definitely a highlight of the trip. I lived in Washington for four years when I was a kid and we moved there the week before the big eruption in 1980. I was only 5 years old, so I have few memories of what happened, but I do remember the ash falling and I remember having nightmares of our house being in the path of a river of lava and watching my mother get swallowed up in the inferno. I'm sure I wasn't the only kid who had bad dreams in Washington. It was a devastating disaster. St. Helens today is much more beautiful than the desolate wasteland I saw when we visited it in 1983, although there are still no trees growing around the mountain. We watched a video at the visitor's center that vividly brought back memories of the event. Hopefully Grace wasn't too traumatized.
Awesome day to view the volcano!
At the end of the week, we drove back to the Portland airport and we were assisted to our gate once again by TSA. This time, we had a layover in Chicago. I was a little worried because this was the first time traveling with the blender without a non-stop flight. I was afraid of our luggage getting lost, or not making the connecting flight because I move a little bit slower. But, we actually had a long layover with plenty of time to get on the flight to Knoxville. The luggage--with Blendtec unscathed--made the trip just fine. 
 
Mommy's in the background trying to act like she doesn't know us
When we got back to Atlanta, we returned the Blendtec to Costco and got a full refund so our scheme was a success!! I wrote to Blendtec after we got home, explained how I eat through a tube, how much I loved their blender, but that I was unable to afford one right now. In a week, a brand new blender showed up at my front door, donated by Blendtec!! What a great company!

Thursday, July 18, 2013

West Virginia

The weekend after Grace's birthday party, we drove up to Pipestem Resort State Park in West Virginia for my grandmother's 90th birthday. We've been up to Pipetem several times and really enjoy our stays there. There are loads of wildlife--especially deer--to see.

This fella came up to our room every day, too accustomed to being fed by tourists

There is also hiking, horseback riding, an indoor pool and rec center, and an aerial tramway down the Bluestone River Gorge. We stayed at the lodge this time. Usually we stay in cabins with a kitchen so we make all our own meals. But this time we were in hotel rooms with no kitchen so we had to depend on local dining options.
Dinner from the salad bar

There is a restaurant at the Lodge and the fare is pretty good, but otherwise dining options around the park are extremely limited, especially when you're looking for a sit-down restaurant with gluten-free choices. I do really love the park. It's never crowded. The staff is always giving us stuff for free, so I don't know how they make any money. I had a free horseback ride; Grace had free meals; they didn't charge us for several games in the rec center. I don't know how the park can stay open with so few people, so if you're looking for vacation ideas you should seriously consider Pipestem!! Only about 4 hours from Knoxville!

Grace, of course, got more presents for  her birthday, including this big inflatable ball that she sits in while we roll her around. 

It's all fun and games until somebody throws up

I was seriously considering getting in there and doing an epic roll down the river gorge behind our lodge, but I've seen enough Youtube videos of stuff like that to know you need to get really drunk, set up several cameras along the route AND THEN do it. So, maybe next time.

Aunt Susan had to make sure it was safe for kids

One day while we were there, we drove to Sandstone Falls on the New River. This is a beautiful stretch of the river where we took an easy hike along a boardwalk to view the falls.

Betsy didn't freak out about this AT ALL! She DID NOT scream at her husband when he dared touch the snake


Part of the lovely Sandstone Falls

And we celebrated my grandmother' Lucy Coleman Tyler Liebenow's birthday. Lucy was born in Key West, Florida, at the weather station where her grandfather was the station chief. She dimly remembers helping her grandfather launch weather balloons from the roof. The station still stands today, but serves as an expensive bed and breakfast. She had four siblings: an older sister (Betty) and brother (George) and two younger sisters (Anne and Harriet).
Betty, George, Anne on her mother's lap, and Lucy being held by her father around 1926 in Key West

Her father was a Navy doctor. His career spanned 30 years of the transformative early 20th century. He served on board a US Destroyer during the First World War. During the Second World War, he was in charge of a military hospital in North Africa. He was awarded the Bronze Star in Algeria.

As a Navy brat, Lucy moved more places than she can recall today. I interviewed three of her siblings (her oldest sister, Betty, recently passed away in Texas, but the other siblings are still alive and scattered from Mississippi to North Carolina to New York) and they each had different opinions on where the family moved during their father's career, and in what order. The general consensus is that from Key West, the Tylers moved to the West Indies for two years, then Dahlgren, VA, then back to Key West, then Norfolk, VA, west to California, then finally to Annapolis, MD, where Lucy finished High School.

Lucy was extremely smart. She said, "everything just came easy to me." She was bumped up a grade to be with her older brother, George. When one of her teachers asked George to answer a question, he often didn't know the answer. So the instructor would sharply say, "Lucy, why don't YOU tell us what the answer is?" She graduated high school at 16. Lucy was one of the first women to attend an all boys college in Ashland, VA, called Randolph Macon. Randolph Macon was the school where her father got his undergraduate, pre-med degree. It was also where a young man named William "Bud" Liebenow was in his final year. At Randolph Macon, Lucy majored in math and physics. She was in an upper level physics course as a freshman, along with a struggling senior named Bud Liebenow. Today, Bud recalls that the only reason he graduated college was because Lucy was his lab partner and got him through the course. The two began dating.

In addition to academics, Lucy was extremely adept at tennis. She learned to play when her father was stationed in California. Her dad loved tennis and wanted his only son, George, to play. He got George a racket and took him out to play all the time. Like many men in those days, he was a bit of a chauvinist and didn't think women should play such sports. Lucy found one of her dad's old metal rackets and used to hit balls against the back of her house. She found a girlfriend who wanted to play with her. The two girls would get up at daylight and walk a mile to the local city park. She would play with her friend all day against anyone willing. In high school, Lucy's father had a tennis coach at Annapolis--who used to be a top world-class player--give lessons to George. Recognizing her ability, her dad got the coach to hit the ball with Lucy, and he became very excited about her game. He wanted her to be a top player and take up lessons but she "didn’t go that route," as she puts it. Her dad was amazed she was so good at the sport.

As the daughter of a high-ranking officer, Lucy never needed a job. Instead, she lived on the tennis court. She was the first girl (in the country!) to get on her college tennis team. She got an invitation to play in the US Open the year she started college, but she didn’t think she was good enough. One of her best friends, Lucia Layman, was also the daughter of a Navy doctor. Lucy and Lucia were mid-atlantic champions playing doubles. During the Second World War, Lucia served as a Japanese interpreter. Sadly, she died in a plane crash immediately following the war. 

After he graduated, in 1941, Bud taught high school in Spotsylvania. He continued to court Lucy and would often drive 45 miles from his home in Fredericksburg back to Ashland to see her. He only taught for a semester before Pearl Harbor. Immediately, Bud signed up as a Navy Ensign and entered the PT Boat program. After PT school and torpedo school, Bud was part of the new PT squadron forming in New York. Meanwhile, Lucy quit college. Bud had a 3 day pass and went to Portsmouth navy hospital to marry Lucy. Her mother, father and sister came to the wedding. Afterward, the couple returned to Brooklyn, New York, where they "walked up and down the streets to find a place to live." They were only there 6 weeks before Bud shipped out for the South Pacific. 

Lucy returned to Portsmouth where she worked in the hospital pay office. She lived with her mother and sisters. Her father was in North Africa. Her older sister Betty’s husband, John, was at sea. The two younger sisters, Harriet and Anne, were too young to marry. It was just a house full of women for much of the war. Lucy would go for weeks without hearing from her husband. She said all the women were afraid of what might happen to her father, or John, or Bud but Lucy put on a brave face for the rest of the women. Bud recalled coming home on shore leave to find Lucy shoveling coal for the furnace because she was "the strong one in the family."

Also during World War II, Lucy got an invitation to play basketball for the New York Red Heads, though she'd never played basketball in her life. With men's sports on hiatus during the war, women's leagues sprang up to entertain Americans at home. The recruiters for the Red Heads thought Lucy had natural athletic ability and would be perfect for their team. She would have had to dye her hair red for the position, but she turned down the opportunity.

Bud discovered that post-War Navy life didn't agree with him. He was used to the informal world of the PT boat skipper, wearing shorts and t-shirts. At the Navy Department in Washington, he had to dress up in stiff coats and follow seemingly pointless regulations. He left the Navy, but before he got out, the couple welcomed a baby boy named Michael. Mike was born in Portsmouth, where Lucy's father was serving his last tour as the head of the hospital. 

With their son in tow, the young couple left the Navy behind and moved to Ashland, VA, where Bud got a job at a chemical testing lab. He held the job for five years, during which Lucy had a baby girl, Susan. Bud was recruited to work for the CNO Railroad and the family moved to the company's headquarters, where Bud got training to be a railroad man. After a brief stay in Huntington, Bud and Lucy lived in northeast Kentucky (Catlettsburg, Belfont, Russell). From there, they moved to Grand Rapids, Michigan, where their children spent most of their childhood. At first, they lived in the city of Grand Rapids. Then, they traded their house for a 77 acre farm in the country. Bud primarily grew Christmas trees on the farm, but they also had a large garden, two pigs, a horse, ducks, chickens, cats, and three or four dogs. All this while Bud continued to work for CNO. 

While they were in Michigan, the family became involved in the Kennedy campaign for the Presidency. Bud and JFK were both PT boat skippers--in fact, Bud's boat picked up Kennedy and his crew after PT 109 was cut in two by a Japanese destroyer. So, Bud and Lucy worked at the Democratic headquarters in Grand Rapids, and Bud sat with Kennedy during a campaign event in Detroit. After Kennedy won the election, the family was invited to the inauguration in January, 1961. Lucy recalled going to one of the balls. She said the room was completely packed and she never thought she'd get to see the newly elected President. However, when he came in the room, she said a pathway opened, "like the parting of the Red Sea," and she was able to briefly meet both Kennedy and Jackie Onassis.

When their children graduated high school, Bud transferred back to Huntington, WV, where he was the director of environmental engineering. In Huntington, Lucy decided to go back to school because she had always wished she'd graduated from Randolph Macon. She graduated Suma Cume Laude--in her 50s--with an English degree from Marshall University. Meanwhile, Mike graduated from the University of Michigan and entered the Marine Corps. He would end up serving two tours in Vietnam as an artillery officer during which he was awarded the Bronze Star. Susan graduated from the University of Mary Washington, became a college tennis coach, then founded a successful fitness company that runs gyms at several federal buildings in the Washington D.C. area.

Bud retired from the railroad and the couple settled in Edenton, North Carolina, in the early 1980s. They lived in a house right on the Albemarle Sound, next to the town's golf course and tennis courts. For the next 20 years, the couple had a peaceful retirement. They could walk out their front door on the golf course (they were both avid golfers). They also enjoyed playing tennis in the local tennis league and Bridge with the Bridge Club. Out their back door, they could walk down to the water where both regularly swam, fished, caught crab, and sailed their small sail boat. Best of all, their son, Mike, his wife, Dianne, and their three children moved to the nearby town of Plymouth in 1984. Plymouth was a short 30 minute drive across the water, so the couple could spend their golden years with regular visits from the grandchildren.

Tragedy struck in 1992 when Mike's oldest son, Buz was diagnosed with an aggressive form of lymphoma. The young man succumbed to the disease later that year. Mike and Dianne separated the following year, and Mike moved to Tacoma, Washington. Despite these sad events, the couple were overjoyed when their granddaughter, Ginger graduated from Wake Forest University and was commissioned as an officer in the Army. A few years later, they were able to attend their grandson's graduation from the Air Force Academy.

In 2003, Hurricane Isabel struck the North Carolina coast. Several trees fell on Lucy'  and Bud's home, but they escaped unscathed. The house was unsalvageable so the couple began looking for retirement homes. They finally settled on a place in Mount Airy, a town in the North Carolina mountains--incidentally the birthplace of Andy Griffith and basis for "Mayberry."

I'm fortunate that Mount Airy is only four hours from my house, but I still don't visit as often as I should. Lucy has had an amazing life (with more years to come!). Traveling the world as a Navy brat; her success at tennis and academics; World War II; running the family's farm in Michigan; the Kennedy campaign; her children's success; earning her own degree; and a very happy retirement. These are just a few insights into the past 90 years, and I hear more stories that amaze me every time I visit. I have a tremendous amount of respect and admiration for my grandmother and I hope I can pass on to my daughter and Ginger's two boys some of the memories and experiences of this inspiring member of the Greatest Generation.

Bud and Lucy in West Virginia. Happy Birthday, Grammy!!