Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Last day of James and his family's visit

James called and said he'd be over in two hours.  Upon awakening my body felt like I had been beat up overnight. Originally the plan was to go to Colorado Springs and cram a week of activities into one day but James' body felt the same way so that plan proved untenable. And Alona was cross about that. She can almost hide it.

Earlier after a long discussion about European bread vs American bread she said that she wants to try her hand at making real Russian rye black bread but had no idea where to buy brewer's yeast and whole rye grain might be a problem. It's an experiment.

I know. Directly below me in the street level shops. You have got to see this.

photo taken previously and already shown here.

They're variations of regular grains used for brewing. The yeast is in packets in the refrigerator section. There are several kinds of brewer's yeast available. 

It turns out this is a terribly unfriendly shop for children. "Don't lean against that shelf" and "Don't lean against that glass, and don't touch this and don't touch that. What a drag. 

The grain room floor is dusty with milled grain and the boys immediately begin scooting around in it. Then leaving the room that is kept closed to keep the dust from spreading, little boy dust footprints suddenly covered the newly mopped floor and the boy's clothes look as if they were rolled in it. I suddenly understand why the gentlemen, always so nice before, don't like children in their store. 

Children learn through their fingertips. They have to put their hands into everything. I did. Nothing was worse than being told, "Don't touch anything." That's the exact same thing as saying, "Don't learn anything." So I was happy to make the visit here short. This is no place for kids. 

With Colorado Springs out due to too much driving, James still didn't know what to do. I cannot help him decide any more than I have already suggested. Since his body feels like mine does, then let's pick the easiest thing. This disappointed Alona, but she is not driving. I must say by observing her closely she recovered from being cross admirably. She's a lot better at that than I am. The thing that worked was seeing her boys having so much fun. It's a fair comparison, they're a bit like my dogs when I stopped half way to arrest their imminent car sickness. They joyfully extracted maximum available fun with zero whinging. Climbing rocks is good as a playground. A playground is good as a spectacular national monument or a mountain that inspired "America the Beautiful." 


Good choice on play apparatus. This structure is loaded with interesting things but the grip suspended on a rail really is the most fun thing on the playground. The boys were having so much fun with it learning how to make sure it doesn't stop half way and how to swing their bodies when it does stop, that they attracted the attention of other kids nearby who had previously ignored it. And their parents. Even tiny girls who couldn't reach the grip, couldn't push off, and needed support the whole way wanted to try it. One girl was really good at this right off. The boys learned to go backwards then learned to do it with one hand. They learn physical things quickly. 

At this early point Alona was still dealing with disappointment. 

"What should we do? What should we do? What should we do?  Should we go to the Museum of Natural History for dinosaurs? Should we go the the Zoo for dinosaur animatronics? What should we do? What should we do? What should we do?" 

"James, you know I'm going to say Red Rocks." 

Red Rocks is the all-time best. 

The boys are remarkable parrots. I know the outrageous things that I say will be repeated so I had best take care what I say. Yesterday a sign in a rest area said "Don't walk in this area" and I said, "They didn't say 'please.'" Today we encountered a sign that read "No climbing" and Daniel said, "They didn't say 'please.'"

I think that's hilarious. 



There's enough room on this sign to say 'please.'

This is where Alona elevated her mood pleasantly. Wonderfully, she thinks breaking the rules is just fine. Although the boys still make her anxious. James and me telling her we climbed all over the park before they instituted all these rules made it easier to allow her own boys the same liberty. She's from Ukraine where rules are rules so rule breaking and liberty appeal to her. She asked us, "What did your parents think about all your climbing around these rocks? " James and I answered simultaneously, "They didn't know."  Had our parents known what all three of us boys got up to climbing every single outcropping dozens of times, they'd have forbidden us ever coming here and that would be one more rule we'd be forced to break. Alona and James give the boys instructions on how to be careful with each step and the boys push their boundaries far as they go. 


Both boys disappeared into this cave. I had no idea it went back that far until they squeezed into it. 





The outdoor patio to the Red Rocks Visitor Center Grill is truly spectacular. It is behind and underneath the amphitheater seating and it faces the opposite direction of the stage. It is a real gem and I don't know why it isn't more famous. The family loved this place. They were surprised with its excellence. 


Black-billed Magpies scavenge the table droppings. If they are like crows then they'll know who's a friend. I told Alona to break off bits of Nathan's unfinished cheese sandwich and toss the bits under the table. 

"They'll eat cheese?"

 

"They eat carrion. They're not particular." We had no sooner stepped away from the table when one of the birds flew down to the bits and picked one of them up. They were watching us. They saw what she did. 

From where I sat.


 I noticed the crack goes all the way down to the cave and I realized we're in a precarious position. The whole front could split off. And then where'd we be? We could get an eye poked out. 

Finally! Good food. Healthful and delicious salads. Alona is happy. I am happy. And when Alona is happy then everyone is.

Would you think of making a salad with Napa cabbage?





That's not very ferocious.


That's better.

I love this series of the boys going down the steps. So many of the photos I've taken of the small boy look athletic. This boy is movement personified. He looks like he's training. James told me his favorite thing is practicing to be a ninja. Wall climbing, rope climbing, balance, etc. Half the time he's airborne.






The boys got to the bottom and Daniel immediately tells James he has to go to the bathroom and cannot hold it so they come right back up immediately. Then go right back down. And they stayed down there climbing around surfaces we never thought to try. 

While adults are having a blast as well. Visitors were trying their hand at opera. And getting applause from spectators.
La donna é mobile
Qual piuma al vento
Muta d'accento
E di pensiero 
Sempre un amabile
Leggiadro viso
In pianto o in riso
E menzognero
In a male voice molto robusta. People are exercising vigorously on the seating while others simply walk. Two visitors asked Alona to use their notepad to photograph them. One of the women is blind. Alona took great care in repositioning them into full shade, having them sit and turn toward the camera instead of stand and facing it straight on, to move down the row for a better positioning. Visitors from all over the world. The Europeans generally adventurous taking hikes through the park ignoring the paths, and Asians generally more rigidly self-contained in packs along constricted boundaries. All cheerful and willing to engage.

I noticed an old man standing immediately outside an old shed-like bathroom that resembles an outhouse. He was waiting for someone inside it to come out. I risked a bit to mention, "There is another very nice bathroom downstairs through the visitor's center below us about where we're standing. "Thanks." Ping. A blur. He was gone in the direction I pointed.

We were rapidly approaching our reserved time at Buckhorn Exchange. Goodness gracious, this family lingers. 

"I want to sit with the cool kids."

And now I have a boy on each side of me. We were seated at the front near the front door,  in a very large booth.

"Come closer and be my dinner buddy." And it's on. A new game. Avoid sitting close to me. I pull them in, they struggle free. They poke my arms to tease a grab, then avoid being touched. I grab them and pull them in tightly, they struggle free and poke me again. I catch them again, they free themselves again. And eventually I have a boy in each arm satisfied just being held.

From where I sat.





Our waitress. 

She is the third person who said that she thought James and I are twins. He's actually seven years younger than me. "May I take your picture?"

"Sure."

*ting* "Oh, I got a very nice picture. You have a beautiful smile." 

"Thank you." 






The end.



They crash hard. They did just now climb all over and did the Red Rocks seating-stairs twice.

James, Alona, Boys, your visit means more to me than I can say, and I choke when I try. I do not have the words for it.

Upon departing Alona told me this sentiment is felt in them too. She added my humor smoothed a few difficult patches, and my presence made coping with the boys while traveling a lot easier. 

12 comments:

edutcher said...

I must say by observing her closely she recovered from being cross admirably. She's a lot better at that than I am. The thing that worked was seeing her boys having so much fun.

The mark of a fine mother and a good woman. What makes the people she loves happy makes her happy.

And when Alona is happy then everyone is.

Old country song, "If Momma Ain't Happy, Ain't Noooobody Happy".

As I said before, you've got good family there and Alona sounds like the real deal. Don't lose touch with them.

Trooper York said...

Another great post. It sounds like ab lot of fun.

Joe Biden, America's Putin said...

what an enjoyable series of posts. Thank you for including us. I feel like those 2 little boys were sitting next to us the whole time. Your brother was smart to insist you go along.

Evi L. Bloggerlady said...

Red Rocks is a fun place.

ndspinelli said...

Alona sounds like the classic Ukrainian. The town I grew up in had a lotta Ukrainians and Pollacks. I had a good friend whose parents were born in the Ukraine. DON'T CALL THEM RUSSIANS. My friends mom was loving, but stern.

Chip Ahoy said...

The boys kept testing to see what they can get away with. In the van they developed a strange case of deafness to instructions and had to be told to do things more than once.

Alona said, "Nathan, close the window."

"Nathan, close the window."

"Nathan, cose the window."

*Ukrainian accent*

"NATHAN, VINDOW CLOSE"

Then much later down the road yet another, "Nathan, close the window."

Without waiting for the rest of the series, using Alona's voice, I said, "NATHAN VINDOW CLOSE!" Both boys and Alona (but not James) cracked up laughing.

She doesn't mind having her accent talked about. She knows she speaks English differently. She said that she really liked the cowgirl boots that the bride's maids were wearing. Whereas I thought the puffy chiffon dresses on very large young ladies ending in cowgirl boots was odd in extreme, Alona like them. She talked about cowboy boots being feminized with scrolling and little gem-like pieces of colored glass. She said that she want to find a pair for herself, but that would be odd in California.

I said, "That would be odd."

"Why?"

"Ukrainian accent and cowgirl boots." She laughed really hard at that, sitting in front of me, she shook, and her head disappeared as she bent forward, then back up, her hair shaking. And I thought, "so she knows the ridiculous dichotomy."

The boys work both parents endlessly. They've developed a range of techniques. When I imitate their nagging techniques, pinching my nose, altering my pitch, exaggerating their whinging, they both snap right out bored pouting mode and join in the fun of self ridicule. They pitch their own voices and crank up the modulating annoying please with some random added element, like, "Let me play with my tablet, Please, Mama, I'm dying." The van explodes with loud comic whinging.

ricpic said...

American men are terribly concerned when a woman (especially a mother) is disgruntled. Let it go, guys.

I'm Full of Soup said...

Chip you will never grow up which is a great thing. And this was a great series of posts. Thanks again for sharing these stories. Now, I need to do a road trip before winter sets in.

chickelit said...

@Chip, it sounds like your brother took The Beatles' "Back in the USSR" seriously. Good for him.

MamaM said...

On a gravity note, what transpired was blessing. All the way around, in ever expanding circles, from tight knit family pods, to relatives collected, sat next and interacted with along the way, to community and beyond, to eventually land at Levity and continue to expand out from there.

When I found this in today's reading, the circle of light procured with the wedding in mind, came to mind:

What is a blessing? A blessing is a circle of light, drawn around a person to protect, heal and strengthen from J O'Donahue, To Bless the Space Between Us

chickelit said...

@Chip: Did you notice the boys touching new things and then smelling their fingers? My brother and I each had sons - about a year apart - they both did that around age 5 or 6. We once observed them doing it together once. iI called it "imprinting."

Chip Ahoy said...

No, Chick, I didn't notice that.

But I did see them change their attitudes right before my eyes. They held strong opinions then just flipped.

They drink water. They've never been offered anything sweet that is carbonated. The small one said flatly, "I don't like bubbles." And that same one won't touch food if anyone else touched it.

Then the last day he insisted on sipping my Coca Cola. I know that my brother would disapprove. He doesn't want the kids to have sugar. At least minimize it. They had a dreadful lot of sugar this trip. It's affect is observable.

Then the boy said, "This is good." And he sipped the whole thing. That flipped three rules. I touched it, and it has bubbles, and it is loaded with sugar.

"You told me you don't like bubbles."

"This is good."

Cooked fruit is another example. Alona is against such things as pies. The kids don't like fruit that is cooked. Then together, she and both kids ate a whole bunch of tortes. She took several extra tiny tortes with her.

James ragged her for doing that. Made her feel guilty.

Then I came to her defense and presented a forceful argument that guilted him right back and she thanked me for defending her. She was already feeling guilty for liking Brenda's fruit tortes so much.

Fart-pies, they're vary bad for you.

Matthew just wrote to me and told me he's reading my posts to my sister. When he got to the part about me characterizing her tortes as fart-pies she busted a gut laughing. Matthew said, "So it's not only boys who think that is funny."

I already knew that by the ladies downstairs cracking up about me talking about adding too much soda in cookies.