My Seussical Life for 2005 September 11

A long-standing hope is realized: yesterday Dave and I saw Garrison Keillor in the flesh. We thought we'd have to sojourn to St Paul to hear a broadcast of A Prairie Home Companion as part of our residence in the Midwest, but when Dave heard Keillor was coming to the Kansas State Fair back in May, he bought me tickets for Mother's Day (he also made me an NPR contributor, I might add). This show was such a wonderful pleasure! I was astonished to see all the unheard commotion that goes on behind what appears to be a seamless production over the radio. It was a special treat to be part of a Kansan audience; Keillor tapped into some of our social and political quirks and made great fun of them. Listen to the archive recording when it comes online and you might hear me chuckle, clap, or sing "Home on the Range" will all my Kansas neighbors.

Since we drove 3.5 hours to get to the State Fair in Hutchinson Kansas, we thought we'd better stay awhile after the show. We saw some animals and ate some Fair concessions. We ate the requisite something fried (battered cheese curds), something on a stick (a freshly battered corn dog--okay it was fried, too), and something dipped in butter (roasted corn with a dash of lemon pepper). We stood in a line for a deep fried Snickers, but decided enough was enough. We skipped the carnival rides for the sakes of our neighbors who watched the boys most of the day and were waiting up late for us to drive the 3.5 hours home. We had a wonderful time.

We drove the 18 hours straight each way to and from Utah last week to attend my grandfather's funeral. Driving, I cried listening to Dar Williams. This summer has been very difficult for me. I feel like I'm mourning my fractured family for the first time in my life, though I know it isn't the first time. It is just the first time I'm neck deep in parenthood and trying to sift through all the poor nurturing that went on when I was a child, trying to find any crumbs of good that I might want to use in caring for my small boys. I've been so angry at my father and mother. Somewhere in my mind my grandpa got lumped in with all that emotion, so I've disregarded him for the past five years. Sad to say, I didn't feel the loss of his death until after the funeral when I visited with family at Grandpa's apartment. I walked into his bedroom, smelled his scent mixed with Old Spice calogne, and realized I once was a little girl who adored her grandpa. But it is too late. Dead is dead. Live and learn, I guess.

Dave says I need to eat more ketchup :).