Pondering Lost - Assistance Welcome

Some people get lost in thought because it's such unfamiliar territory.

G. Behn

I don't watch much TV. My favorites? Jeopardy, The Daily Show, Deadliest Catch, and Lost. Every Tuesday night since Lost returned to the TV screen in January, I've missed the show. Baseball games. My youngest son, Ian, and I have kept watch on www.abc.com. Baseball's now over. Last Sunday night, I saw the finale in prime time. I'm still thinking about it.

What was that all about? Any enlightenment welcome.

Were the passengers all killed in the original plane crash - the plane found filled with all dead in the ocean far from the island a true scenario?

Was this island a purgatory "the survivors" endured until death?

Why were women not able to have babies on island? No new life because everyone was dead? Except the Dharma people weren't dead, were they? What was the point of them, anyway?

Who are the rest of the lost souls, like Michael, that whisper in the forest.

With the ending focusing on the characters, does it seem like the island's mysteries were immaterial to the story?


How come nobody ever came across that cave with the light? And the Man in Black couldn't ever find it again? If it were just beyond the bamboo?

Did life go on at the island with Hurley and Ben in charge after Jack died?

Desmond? How did he fit in there?

Was the gathering at the end just a gathering for Jack's demise? That the rest all lived their own lives and died at different times? Had Ben not died yet and that's why he sat outside?

That it has provoked such thought suggests that our invested time was a worthwhile venture. The ending focused on the characters, which is also what makes a good book. The scenery and the workings of the island used as the vehicle to aid the characters in their search?

That these lost, troubled souls gathered to put their lives together and all found their own peace.

Aside from my questioning, I enjoyed it. Did you?

Now, back to my date with my vacuum.

Before the Next Party, I Putter

One of the most delightful things about a garden is the anticipation it provides.

W.E. Johns, The Passing Show

We're having a party on Saturday night. Imagine that - the Andersons having a party. After all, it has been about two weeks since the last one.

This next event is a high school graduation party. Held in honor of the third and last kid graduating from high school, this party is a no brainer. I can do this one with my hands tied behind my back. With the Eagle Scout Court of Honor pushed to the end of the month, this day began without a feeling of rush. I embraced that. I have accomplished nothing.

Have puttered the day away. Put my pretty silver shoes from the wedding into their box and onto the shelf in the closet. I unpacked my suitcase from the college graduation and buried it in another closet. Emptied the bag in the living room that held the wrapping paper from the 18 year old's birthday presents. Watered the new flowers I've yet to plant.



The school year is winding down so no teaching today. I could drive to the YMCA and swim 3/4 a mile, but can't muster that much effort today. I'm enjoying the quiet while anticipating a rousing houseful on Saturday night.

I have brushed my teeth, read 50 pages in a library book, ate breakfast, put some handwash items in the washer. Excited to discover I won the Peterson's Field Guide to Birds from Susan at City Girl Moves to Oz Land.

Now I think I need a nap while I ponder last night's Lost finale.

Not only have I read two books in the past few days (remember my lack of concentration for reading), I also took a look around my yard. Stopped to smell the flowers, as they say.

Remember my tomato plant wars of past years?

Look what I have growing on my five plants. I did have to squish a few green tomato worms, so I'm not home free. But, oh, my. How proud of myself, I am.

Yes, I do need to add weeding to my list of things to do - tomorrow.

My Job is Done

Graduation day is tough for adults. They go to the ceremony as parents. They come home as contemporaries. After twenty-two years of child-raising, they are unemployed.

Erma Bombeck

Tomorrow, my middle son, Jordan, will move to a new town and begin his new job. When he returns home, he will have his own home, now only arriving at mine as a visitor. I'm trying not to think about all that means, instead choosing to express my confidence for his success in the world. A poker face, laden on the inside with wonder at how quickly the time of raising him passed.

All along I felt my job was to teach my children independence. My heart holds a two-faced reaction to the accomplishment of that goal. One of pride for their success and one of sorrow that they no longer need me like they once did. Selfish, perhaps. I admit it.

Last weekend we had the distinct pleasure of attending Jordan's college graduation from Northern Arizona University. Very proud of him. Jordan didn't talk until he was 4 and didn't read until 3rd grade. Teachers said he'd never do well in school. Perhaps I should mail them a copy of his Bachelor of Science degree in Biology.

Now he moves to another town to begin his career in Wildlife Management. Employed. Self-sufficient. Off our payroll.

And the best part? Only three hours away instead of 17.

He had planned on antlers for his mortarboard, but came up with this instead. He wanted it to read "My Job Here is Done", but ran out of room for the "here" part. My husband -- glad to hear he knew more work lies ahead. His job at college is done, but he embarks on the world and a career working with wildlife, as he hoped. What fun to come as that path evolves.

I am having such trouble with this new camera, but I thought this looked cool.

Proud parents and grandparents.

Such fun we had in Flagstaff, Arizona. Great town. Beautiful location. Enjoyed our time with Jordan and his friends. We stayed at this funky, old hotel. I'm not sure my in-laws enjoyed it as much as my husband and me.

Definitely had cocktails in the lounge.
Proud and happy Dad.

Had an incredible meal to celebrate Jordan's success. With beautiful food - like this dish. Grilled leg of lamb, Mole Style Lamb Chilaquiles, Salsa Roja, and Queso Seco. Incredible. I wish my kids could graduate every day.

Now, on to the high school graduation of my youngest. I can begin grieving for that son who leaves for college in the fall. However, he'll only be a mere 12 hours away. Much easier for me as that is only a day's drive, instead of two.

As for Jordan, like his mortarboard said, my job is done. I think (I know better.)

Jordan,

May you always have walls for the winds,
a roof for the rain, tea beside the fire,
laughter to cheer you, those you love near you,
and all your heart might desire.
Irish Blessing

I Give

A woman my age is not supposed to be attractive or sexually appealing. I just get kinda tired of that.

Kathleen Turner

Okay, I give. Watched Facebook for photos posted of my son and me dancing at his wedding. Haven't found one yet that flatters me, so figure, perhaps I'm just not in a flatter-available posture these days.

But, off to the next adventure. Middle son's college graduation. I can only hope that after a year or more of listening to me, you will understand that I don't seem to live up to my expectations in these photos.

The song choice? The Beatles - In My Life.
Did we have fun? You Betcha Baby.
(And the site where I would now play that song while you look at the photos? Can't find it. Tired, I guess.)

Thank you, Busy Traveler, for the photos.

The proud mom and dad of the groom, awaiting the bride. We so love her.

The family.

The Groom's Cake - the Fraternity House, less the beer cans. Notice the old red photo in the background. Bob and me, 1978. I recently learned that the reason all our photos from the 70's turned red is because of the paper used. You can't imagine all the fun comments from my son's friends on his dad's long hair.
A friend described the picture tonight at dinner - the hippie and the Amish girl. Oh, who said compatibility comes from sameness? Nowadays, the roles seem reversed.

As some of you may know, my mom, the Old?Who?Me? lady suffered a severe fall at the lake. I'm happy to report she is home just today, safely, and recovering.

I have so many great photos. Fodder for the next year. I remember She Writes, who posted one post of her son's wedding, equipped with a long series of photos. I plan to do that in one swoop, but I never seem to do what I plan. Is that a midlife prerogative?

When I get all the pictures, I say. So far behind in my blogging. I promise to catch up soon. Onward.