Q'ute Quote...

The Fourth grade is a great deal about the history of California, beginning with Father Serra and the missionaries, along with the Spaniards, coming here over 150 years ago--and then what has happened progressively since. It is always a struggle to get the homework done before the excitement of a big night, and last night was no exception with it being OPen House. Niko needed to study for his History exam, and just did not want to do it. Ever thing I went over bounced off him, leaving nothing to sink in. I could tell his head was already at fun time but he needed to study. I said, "Niko, if we don't get this done, we won't be able to make it to Open House. Please try to focus." We went on, and by this time, he was on the floor, holding his head, groaning in misery, "I don't want to stu-dyyyy!" I laughed and said, "Niko, this is the easiest chapter so far this year. They even talk about Tony Hawk, The Beach boys--easy stuff. All history is is memorizing." He threw his head to the ground and I hear my boy say in a muffled voice, "History is easy for you to remember because you were alive during most of that book!" :>

Helen...

I just had the nicest visit. Carl, one of our subcontractors, stopped by to drop of a project he had been working on for Juan. Great guy from Hungary, a brilliant mind, retired, and still does odd jobs now and again for us and others too to keep his intellect, more than his hands, busy, and more often than not--to my delight--he brings with him his wife, Helen.

Helen is a lovely elderly lady from Scotland, full of stories--we could chat all day--and a real hoot! She is a realist, been there-done that, pragmatic, and very funny,
and just a bit forgetful (says the doctor gave her some cholesterol pills a few years back that he soon took back--"We have been told these can affect your memory".
Each visit goes something like this:

In her darling Scottish accent she whispers as she peeks her head around the corner, "Well 'ello there! Are ya busy? Would it be alright if I sat with ya and talked for a bit?" "Yes, yes, of course, please come in! How have you been?" "Oh, I'm fine. I'm always fine. Oh, looky there--what a beautiful painting--where do ya think that is?" I smile knowing where the conversation is headed--"Italy, Lake Cuomo, I'm pretty sure. Looks like it anyway!" "Oh 'ave ya been then?" "Yes, a long time ago. But I'm pretty sure it still looks the same. So pretty isn't it?" "Ay! Very Pretty indeed!" She begins to wander around my little office and comment on the pictures I have scattered about here and there, but today was suddenly different--she perked up and said with concern, "You won't be gettin in trouble for visitin' with me now would ya?" I smiled again and said, "Oh no worries there--I know the boss!" Then, the funniest thing--"Oh, do ya? Which
one would that be then--the dark haired one in there that Carls talkin to?" She is so precious--"Well, actually, I am the boss. The dark haired guy in there, my husband Juan, works for me." Her blue eyes flew open and she said, "Your mar-eed to Juan? I had no idea!" I giggled and said, "Mmhmmm, see behind you, that's him in the picture there, us with our kids." In complete surprise she whipped her head around, "Oh looka that--there he is!" Then, after putting the pieces together, "So you work for your husband then?" I winked and corrected her, "No, my husband works for me!" She saw the humor in my eyes and said, "Good for you lassie, you keep that boy in line then. You know what? I'll help ya! I'm gonna sit here and talk with ya all day now! Hows that sound?" I cracked up, and for the next 30 minutes, my lassie ears were filled with great stories of Scotland, the true home of this gem, my friend, I knew as Helen. After awhile, Carl came by, "Sorry to break this up ladies..." "Well, we're then. Cheerio!" I got up, gave her a warm hug and responded in my best Scot accent, "Cheerio!" "Good girl!" I always feel a bit sad when she leaves, and then, I remind myself, she'll be back admiring my painting again before I know it, and I feel happy again.

Q'ute Quote...

Last night, after a long day, my son said, "Mama. I love you. I love-love-love you! I love you so much there isn't even a word to describe how much I love you." A poet in the making.

Later in the evening, when my daughter returned home from dance, I suggested, "How 'bout you go take a shower and get all
scrubbed and clean?" She smiled and quipped, "No thanks. I don't want to be scrubbed and clean-- I want to stay greasy and dirty." :>