Entries tagged with “Family” from ReadRaymond
This year we got inspired by the Swarovski Christmas tree in Zurich's main station and decided to gift ornaments. (Check out some links concerning the tree Photo, as well as a corporate video - which also explains the holiday lights, btw.)
While considering the year ahead, I played: What Are You Doing New Year's Eve from the album "When My Heart Finds Christmas" by Harry Connick, Jr.
You know you're going places, hooked up and linked in when your Sister and Brother-in-Law can be found on YouTube and it doesn't have anything to do with a video of their cats playing with a frisbee or someone smashing beer cans against their head. Check out the digital "rotoscoping", animated dance video made by Irene and featuring the family dancers: "Body".
Although what I'm going to say is a little non-pc, that's typical for me: They say the camera adds 10lbs. Well it looks as if digital rotoscoping adds 20lbs and makes you a bit shorter too. Mandi and Evan have to be the most svelte people I know, Mandi weighing in at 158lbs while carrying Evan on her back. <wink> PS: There is no reference to the dancers and Irving's book. I just needed a weight class and remembered the book.
Anyway, as someone already struggling with added camera-sized weight, I think I refrain from the rotoscope for a little while.
When I was younger, Dad drove me and my sister from Germantown, Maryland to Vineland, New Jersey (as he did every two weeks, as per the separation agreement that was between my parents predicted) and as always, Mandi fell asleep in the back seat of a rusty, red, 5-speed as Dad and I drew math formulas on the windshield while driving the Jersey Turnpike. On one of those trips, Dad explained the magic of nines.
Having reached my 4th (magic 9), and having been born on the 4th, I feel closer to my Father than when I was riding in that car so many years ago. But I recognize that it was he who gave me the reasoning to recognize it. My Mother gave me passion and respect to balance it - she gifted me the soulful and compassionate thought my father never had, but with my father's gifts of theory and logic, I was able to understand it.
Thank you to both of you. I know now that I am a TRUE product of, and happy to be the multiple and not the sum of the parts.
What's both funny and freaking scary is that I am older now than he was when he was trying to be a Father to me and my sister. Jesus, hadn't you guys ever heard of condoms? At 36, I am still only imagining the concept of children. But I'm glad you didn't (use them). As Mandi was adopted, I guess it doesn't matter much for her - lol. Four times nine and you can still be a mean brother. So much for Mom's lessons of compassion. But all of us would laugh. (Or, at least I do now.)
Jeepers! I just realized that my Sister is older now than Dad was then too. And that I forgot her birthday this year. Sorry, Mandi. I love you, (even though you were adopted and have "big feet"). But as you were adopted, your "actual" birth date is a bit sketchy anyway. Hugs and Kisses. Love, Raymond.
While calculating the power of nines, I played: Nine Million Bicycles from the album "Piece By Piece" by Katie Melua.
PS: There was a reason I choose to get engaged on May the 27th. I am so bad at dates, I thought I would just "stack* them, making them easier to remember. So if Randy would be so kind as to switch his special day to one that matches the rest of the family's, that would be much appreciated. And if we could just all agree than Mandi was born on January 1st, 1975, that would be great. Oh, yeah! Mom, you've been moved up two days to the 27th and Mommom's now falls on Thanksgiving Day, along with Glyn's and Lisa's. If we could all convince Sandy toward the 27th of May, New Year's Day or Thanksgiving, that would work beautifully. Evan's will fall nicely on Leap-Year. Thanks for understanding. I think we'll all be much happier this way.
PPS: I, of course, as the eccentric, egocentric, self-abosrbed, self-important, prodigal child will continue to keep the very special date of October 4th as my birthday, which is where Sybille will be having hers from 2007 on. Mark your calendars and see you next year!
PPPS: Dad, I hope you got all of the math references. So, laugh, laugh, laugh. Or, "send more money". Much love, Raymond. Thank you.
Strange but true, Dad and Sandy, Tony and Lynn were in Como, Italy last weekend. So Sybille and I hopped in her sister's car and drove down the 3-4 hours for dinner at Bar della Terme, home to chef Maurizo - a crazy Italian that's gotten a few extra 15 minutes by looking a little bit like Clooney. Be sure to visit his website for a laugh: NotClooney.
The two of us were a little ready for a break as we had both been working like crazy - heads buried in books or pounding away at the keyboard, so it was perfect timing, even though it was only for a day.
As you can see in the hill-side picture, the ride down was a bit foggy, but beautiful. As a result of the fog we drove through the Gotthard Tunnel (San Gottardo in Italian) on the way down, but over the mountain on the way back. Holy crap that was scary, amazing, eye-poping and in all other manners of shock and awe. However, the pictures just don't capture it as its too massive and all surrounding to fit on film with justice. You see a picture of me with a hand on a guard rail, the valley below.
What you can't tell from the picture is that the temperature is about 45 degrees because we're about 6,000 feet up, there is a massive plunge about 12 short inches behind me and I have a death grip on the rail. And we hadn't even reached the peek of the overpass yet, which is a total of 6,916 feet. If you look at the picture of the valley and the road, the beginning of the Gotthard overpass begins in the very right hand side, around the lake. Trust me, its a long way down.
Its a 30 minute drive (or was for me) to get up the mountain, through all the switch-backs and jaw-dropping roundabouts. My pulse was a little bit quicker. At the top, it was amazing - snow still clinging to summerless rock. (July, remember.) There were lakes of crystal clear water - freezing Sybille is jumping in front of one as the sun was setting. Little villages and extended camp sites surrounded the lakes. It was massive - a plateau that stretched 2-10 miles in any direction (that you could see). Its probably bigger.
We drove the plateau north and went through other little villages that were the most incredible sights - a castle, a church, a cluster of cottages and a train station carved into the side of a mountain. I lost my mind. It was like the train-set towns I tried to create as a kid, but these were 200 inhabitant neighborhoods stuffed into a small valley and shadowed between two, snow-capped mountain peeks 6,500 feet above the rest of the world. Göschenen and Hospental were two.
On the north side, coming down the mountain, there were cows everywhere - just standing on the side of a massive cliff, munching on hearty mountain grass. Sybille says their "happy" cows - referring to bio-friendly, organic milk. I remarked that they were the potential falling objects that the sign had warned us of on the drive up. St. Gotthard is a wonderful place and I cannot wait to go back. Only next time, I'm renting a Porsche for the drive (or shipping mine over as that's what she's supposed to be driving, not to the grocery store on US1).
As for dinner, it was great - perfect outdoor setting with candle light, warm summer breezes coming off Lake Como and wonderful company. The food wasn't bad, either. But were were there to visit family. Unfortunately, I only got one picture with the family (and Maurizo hamming it up) and it wasn't very flattering for Sybille. So Dad, if you have better ones, please forward them.
PS: While in Como, stay away from the green stuff. You'll be happier.
While writing this, I played: No Doubt - It's My Life from the iTunes radio.
The short version of the story is: I met a Swiss girl. Fell in love. Asked. She said, "Yes", and then she screamed! Pure joy and excitement. The longer version of the story includes a weekend getaway to Denmark.
* * * * * * *
Neither of us had been to Copenhagen and she had been told by friends that it was a beautiful and charming city. So, I planned a romantic trip that included a very special surprise.
We left on Friday, May 26th 2006, flying from Zurich to Copenhagen. All the week before I kept watching the weather reports as it was supposed to be summer but Europe hadn't gotten the message yet. It had been cold and rainy in Switzerland (and most assuredly farther north) for days. I had packed for summer weather not winter.
Luck being on my side, the weather turned and we were in for two sunny and warm days in Denmark - an extremely fortunate coincidence as it happens. We learned later that the reason the Danes are such heavy drinkers (of beer not wine) is that the weather is horrible most of the year and they have little else to do but stay indoors and drink mightily with their friends. When it comes to the weather in Copenhagen, England is a tropical island.
I had booked a quaint little hotel, the Hotel Skt. Petri, (which turned out to be much bigger that I imagined) in the old part of town, rich with historic buildings, points of interest, little cobblestone streets and sidewalk cafes. I had also booked (online) the "Make-Love" package offered by the hotel - which was supposed to include rose petals strewn about the room, massage oils and breakfast in bed. I confirmed this the day before only to find out that it was a national holiday and the goodie basket of extras wasn't available as all the (flower) shops were closed; but that I could have it on Saturday as the shops would re-open. Having decided that I wasn't going to pop the question the first day and would wait until we were sitting in a romantic spot on Saturday, I thought this was a fine turn of events and agreed.
The flight was a short hour and a half and the ride into town was colorful. But, the first thing we noticed was that everybody spoke absolutely perfect English - better in fact than most English or Americans. It was the preferred language as there are so many other tongues its better to simply use English. Odd, but it worked for us as Sybille doesn't count Scandinavian languages in her repertoire and I'm still struggling to pick up the basics in German.
The second thing we noticed was that Copenhagen was dirty. Too many people and not enough trash cans, apparently. The streets were filthy. And the way you could tell that there was an empty table at a cafe was if there were dirty plates and glasses on it but no people. That's the one you grab, waiting for the waiter to clear away the debris. Just don't expect him to wipe down the table. Instead, be happy that its free of used items and that the sun is shining in Denmark.
The third thing we noticed was the curious thing that happens when you order wine, such as by asking, "Do you have wine by the glass?" The waiter or waitress will say, "Yes," and then turn to your companion and ask, "And for you?" We shook our heads. What was that?!
"No wait, miss. What white wines by the glass do you have?," figuring this would clear up the miscommunication.
The (perfect English) waitress then understood and explained here selections, "Well, we have a chardonnay from Australia. I like it. Its good," she offered. "Umm. And that's it."
"Oh!" Now I understood. "OK. I guess that will be fine," I shrugged. 4-Star hotel, my ass. Can't get flowers. National holiday. One wine by the glass. Humph.
However, we quickly discovered that it is like that everywhere. If you hoping for a wine and romance weekend, Denmark isn't the place. They have two wines. Red and white. Period. Enjoy.
Day one was spent exploring the city, checking out the local offerings and the shops (that were open despite the holiday). We even went to the local amusement park and took on the rides. The roller-coaster was great but short. Sybille kept her eyes closed the whole time and then wanted to do it again. The next day gave us perfect weather and me the perfect timing. So, I suggested a walk to see more of the city - whereby I could spot the right setting - a street-side cafe or pigeon-free statue. But it just didn't happen. The streets were crowded and the cafes were teaming with tourists. Not even so much as an empty spot near the water's edge. But, we kept walking north toward the "Mermaid" statue and I spotted a wonderful garden path - a walk the guards took to patrol the old castle, church and barracks of times gone past. Along the path was the perfect spot. And the time was now...
Finally, with a moment of peace and isolation - just the two of us in the romantic setting - I took her into my arms and pulled her close, face-to-face and offered these words, "I love you and I trust you. But above all, I respect you. You make me happy. And I want that for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?"
There was a moment of confusion. Was I serious? Could this be happening? Was it real? Was I being romantic or playfully expressing my love and devotion? As she looked into my eyes, she knew that I was serious. Her eyes began to tear, she kissed me softly and whispered, "Yes."
Hugging and kissing me, she said, "Yes." And again, "Yes!," as if to tell the whole world, as I struggled to grab the pouch in my pocket which contained a ring. I offered it to her with, "I love you."
Then she screamed, nearly bursting out of her skin. This was real. And slowly she began to realize the reason for my walk in the garden, the perfect park bench, and the moments of quiet and nervousness before. She had mistaken them as something wrong; that I might me unhappy, or in need of a cookie to cure low blood sugar. Funnily enough, minutes before she had offered me some jellybeans and minutes before that had asked if everything was alright. It was. I was just nervous as all hell. And I was at the culmination of weeks and weeks of planning the perfect setting.
In fact, in our moment of glee and excitement - showering each other with kisses, hugs and collective cries of joy - I felt a mixture of elation and exhaustion. Its a lot of work planning the perfect moment on the most perfect day in the most beautiful and wonderful city known as Copenhagen. Thankfully the stars conspired in my favor and I will always remember Copenhagen as the city of candles and romance.
On a side note, it only took her half a glass of champaign before she was talking about the wedding; and it was halfway through diner when she started talking about children. She's a quick one, my little Swiss girl.
While writing this tribute to our special day, I played: Unchained Melody from the album "B-Sides 1980-1990" by U2 and loved every minute of it, mein kleine Zwiebel. :-p "God speed your love, tonight."
PS: I know that the photos showcasing the ring are her wearing it on the opposite hand, but don't knock my future wife's creative genus. I'm not sure why she did it that way either, but you don't see me complaining. Maybe its because she's left handed and they were self portraits. Who knows? But I'll happily take the next fifty years to find out.
PPS: OK, I found out that the Apple software <PhotoBooth> takes pictures in mirror image and she hadn't reversed it at all, the computer did. I'll still take the next fifty years.
On the 4th of July my Granddaddy passed away. It was a sweet passing as it was quick and unexpected. Plus it removed any chance of his continued slide into Alzheimer's. It is a far better fate than to have all his memories and abilities stripped away over time. He was after all; a man of passion, feeling and understanding. He understood the pain in man. And he understood love - most supremely, he understood love. Yes, my Granddaddy was a preacher, but being a preacher was only a vocation. He was a pure man first. And that was the man I knew - the man I miss - the man that still teaches me from the grave.
At the funeral service, it was read:
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
I cried. I understood. Love never fails. I laughed at/with my Granddaddy. I smiled toward heaven and I cried again. Then I cried a lot. I got it. Granddaddy had smacked me upside the head when I needed it the most. He was like that too. He was a man of timing - something that only the humorist in me understood. Thank you Granddaddy. I will never miss you as you are around me always, even when I have completely given up all hope that you'll show. I do miss your laugh, though. And your ice cream sodas. Sneaky bugger.
While re-writing this, I listened to: Everlasting Love from the album "B-Sides 1980-1990" by U2.
Its been many, many years since I've walked the berry lined paths of Butler's Orchard, eating one juicy offering for every two dropped in the bucket. This past holiday weekend, I got my chance to revisit the past and the farm near where I grew up. I decided to take Sandy, NY's newest Novice Lady for a "no skating weekend" that included picking (slightly overripe) blackberries and raspberries, hiking Sugarloaf Mountain, riding bikes, playing tennis, basketball & oversized soccer. The rest of the time we grilled up burgers and hot-dogs or baked goodies with hand-picked berries. Everyone had a great time and we returned Sandy to here full-time keepers a little bruised, grass-stained and slightly injured from a minor kitchen accident that threatened her finger. All-in-all, it was a successful weekend and Sandy should be ready and mentally prepared for the middle-Atlantic and Regional competitions in the coming months.
A message to surfacehippy@yahoogroups.com on Mom's behalf. This is Raymond, Janet Lynda's son and I'm here to update you all on the on the latest crop of Belgian hippies. While one the phone with my mother she dictated as follows:
In her words:
Brenda now has shapely hips and walks like a runway model.
Donna is one of the most gorgeous divas that DeSmet has ever operated on and has a tennis match planned next week and will only be using crutches to be fair to the competition.
John is passing around his old femoral head prosthetic as a shot glass and acts like he's 19 again.
Tom is showing us all up in physical therapy. Maybe some needs to tell him he just had major hip surgery.
Lynda (Raymond's words) is overwhelmed to have her life back.
Dr. DeSmet, Jan & Jacqueline are even more fantastic than could be dreamed.
Randy (Lynda's husband) & the rest of the companion family members are all taking a much deserved break from the daily care of their hippy counterparts. They are parting like Ghent was a college town - enjoying fine French "clasical" cuisine, Belgian chocolate and good Belgian beer like Leffe Blonde. It was confused as "Laughing Blond", whereby Brenda sought a different choice. It seems she already had enough laughing blond as Mom was her hospital roommate for two days. ;-) Thank you, Raymond
"And she told two friends, and she told told two friends..." Because of the grape vine I was fortunate to have two blasts from the past send me their love and well-wishes recently: Carolyn Hickey now known as C-Lynn Vallone & Katherine Shepherdson (SP?) now know as Kathy Ambrose
Now I am happy that you two are both "Married w/Children" but did you have to give up on the beautiful first names you were both given in addition to your adoption of new last names? You know, I move away for a couple of years and the whole town goes nutty. Carolyn & Katherine are beautiful names. Use them every once in a while ya' wackos! :-)
I look forward to seeing you all again this Thanksgiving - including C-Lynn & Mike's Ethan, whom I have not yet met. PS: New photos of the kiddies would be nice, including those adorable Halloween costume pics.
Mandi & Evan came to NY this past weekend (Nov 1st - 3rd). We had a had a great time wondering around the East Village, comparing restaurants along Indian Row and playing tennis on the PS2. Like the young kids they are they drove up late Friday afternoon, leaving after work and getting in around 11:30 PM or so. Its amazing what 5 years will do to your concept of acceptable driving times. At 32, I guess I'm getting stuffy about certain things. We stayed up Friday night talking about the changes that were made to the apartment, discussing my diabetes regimen and chasing the cats.
Saturday, I woke them up with NY bagels with cream cheese & jelly, tomato slices, alfalfa sprouts, turkey, ham, apples, grapefruit & decaf coffee. They ate the bagels and drank the coffee. Such is life in the kitchen. By noon we had finally made it out to the East Village - taking the subway - a first for Evan (I think). We took them to a favorite store along St. Mark's place called "In the Woods". It has everything you'd ever want made of wood - dishes & utensils to toys & furniture. An added bonus is the crystal shop located in the back. I think it's a shared rent arrangement. Next we went for Indian food for lunch, went home for a nap, woke up and went for a Mexican dinner with plenty of margaritas. (All we did was eat, really.)
On Sunday, I woke them with scrambled eggs, potato patties, turkey kielbasa, veggie links, coffee and the fruit they ignored the day before. (I had wrapped it up and stored it in the fridge.) They ate everything, and wanted more. So they ate some of the croissants they had brought up with them but the again, ignored the fruit. You never can tell with this bunch. Afterward, we stayed local, perusing the (now) fashionable Smith Street. Mandi very much enjoyed the kitsch shops. The family's trying to convince her to sell items via consignment in stores like this. Go Mandi! Start sewing. After a briskly cold day they drove back to Baltimore. Come back soon.
Dad,
I am very sorry about your father. I know it hurt you to see him go. I wish you health and happiness that only comes with the passing of time and the knowledge that life in this world doesn't come with an alarm clock.
We are occasionally asked to deal with situations rather abruptly and it is a shock to our way of life. In those times you mustn't dwell on "what if" or "I only wish". They are a threat to sanity. Instead, be confident that today you have the ability to make the world around you a good and happy place. Our loved ones, including those who have passed on, want for nothing more. It is, after all, the only real thing in our control - our behavior & disposition toward others.
I believe that if you take this time to "reach out" to those around you; to give when everyone expects you to be the one in need; to lend your strength to others, that your rewards will be immeasurable. To triumph over tragedy we must do as the old sage tells us: Turn the other cheek. Graciously - and without reservation. You must defy all theory of bereavement and loss through sacrifice of self. Become a renewed person, charged with life and energy by freeing your self from the shackles of pain, resentment & frustration and know that it is good to do so.
I love you,
Raymond
My Grandpa, Thomas Brown, passed away today. I'm not really sure what to say about this except that it seems that I have gotten a whole lot older recently. Things - life things - are happening all around me. I wasn?t thinking about stuff like this a couple of years ago. I was still young, as were my relatives. But so many things are changing - and quickly.
On my mother's side there is trouble as well - both her parent are having eye surgery due to complications of medication, illness or age.
Elizabeth?s last remaining grandparent, Steve?s mother, doesn?t look to be fairing all that well either. The family is making ?final visits? to spend time with their loved one.
I just turned 32 years old and it has really become apparent that I don't own property or life insurance - something I feel is necessary before I can have thoughts of children.
Medical bills are pilling up and will continue to do so thanks to my diabetic condition. I now have to worry about eye, skin, teeth & feet doctors in addition to Endocrinologists & GPs. And be sure that if they have an "ist" at the end of their title, it costs more. (ie: A massage therapist costs more than a masseuse.)
Everything around me is falling apart: my health, my family, my business, my finances, ... time. I just want to yell, "STOP! I need to go back and reset the clock. It's not supposed to happen this way. The last 2.5 years of my life have been shit. I want a do-over."
*****
There are some good things that have happened of late: Mandi & Evan just got engaged, and Dad & I have started to develop a real dialog for the first time in 6 to 8 (maybe 10) years. I guess for now, I will have to live in the positive. Pleasant journeys Thomas Brown.
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