How do I love Tea. Let me count the ways.

It was December, 2005 when my sister and I were China bound. We went to meet the Lollygagger, and I was overwhelmed with fear, confusion, and joy.

What I thought would be a Kodak moment, was more like a scary movie; but that's another story.

There weren't many things we could share during our first few weeks together. She was scared out of her mind. I was a strange looking woman who she couldn't understand, and she wanted nothing more than for me to just go away.

For something to experience, the Lollygagger and I went to a Tea House and shared a Japanese Tea Service with another family who came to claim their own Lollygagger.

It was bliss.

We discovered our Lollygaggers could laugh and they both enjoyed a watered-down cup of tea. We could tell this was not their first cup. In fact, it was evident by the cup being drained and held up for more, that they both knew more about tea than the adopting families did.

That day in the Chinese Tea House was the start of something good. It's amazing how a steamy cup of tea can thaw so much icy tension.
Fast forward to present day -

I share my Lollygaggers love of tea. In fact, we own a Tea House as a result of this love of tea. We drink tea everyday, all day long. Can't get enough of it. We serve tea, we sell tea, tea accessories, and all edible things made of tea. We love tea.

We will forever love our tea time together; and I will always feel warmth and love for my Lollygagger with every tea pot filled with tea, every cup, every sip. Our tea time together will forever remind me of hearing her first laugh, and seeing her first smile. My cup runneth over.

-How does Tea Inspire you?

Alabama bound?

The Lollygagger's brother recently met a Bonny wee lass. She's a few years older than he is, and thank heaven she's mature, intelligent, and polite. She reigns from Alabama, which oddly enough has come under consideration of where to uproot the family and move to. We've been talking about it for a few years now.

Why? Our lovely California has fallen from it's high horse and into a mess of politics, gang-bangers, and wanna be gang-bangers and I'm not convinced it's a healthy place to raise my Lollygagger.

So meeting her was just a coincidence, right?

It seems to be more than a mere coincidence. Try this on for size. The Lollygaggers daddy and I were looking at 88 acres of land in Alabama via the Internet. The Internet is a staple in my home these days. Can't get through the day without it anymore. Internet and Coffee.

But I digress.

This chunk of 88 acres was seriously looked at. I dreamt of the many things I could do with such a chunk of land. Returned to the website everyday for weeks looking at this little piece of heaven. But, things being what they are, there's really no way we could make such a move at this particular time in our lives. So it was forgotten.

Then Lollygaggers brother brings the Alabama girl home to meet the parents. We discover her parents had recently purchased a small farm. A small farm... as in 88 acres of land, small farm.

Is this weird? I wish I could remember what town the chunk of land was in that we were looking at, but no matter how much I rack my brain to remember, it's been forgotten. Never to be found in the dark corners of my memory again.

So, I must pose the question:

Is this mere coincidence, or is it a sign that we should be Alabama bound?

Well, we've been invited to go there for Christmas and meet her parents, so I'm thinkin' someone might be Alabama bound. Is Alabama our "density" or just his?

Yes, I said density. Didn't you ever see Back to the Future?

What's with the Sticks!?

Have you ever noticed that children must play with sticks? Why is that? It seems The Lollygagger finds a way to obtain a stick whenever she's outside. And, on occasion, she manages to smuggle them inside.
Every time we go for a walk, the Lollygagger finds a stick and either uses it: A) as a cane, thus hunching her back like a little old lady, B) like a fishing pole, dipping it in the dirt, water, a pile of rocks, a cluster of grass, or oddly enough, a tree branch, C) like a broom to either sweep the dirt or ride it like a witch, or D) to poke her poor mother in the butt with it every chance she gets.

So, I ask myself, I say "Self, what's the deal with the stick?" and I get no reply. Which I guess is a good thing.

Did I ever have an incurable, insatiable need to find the most annoying object on the ground and irritate my mother with it when I was her age? No. I don't think I did. I don't remember ever going for walks.

Did I ever play without limits to my imagination, and find so many ways to entertain myself with a stick? No. I can't remember ever having an imagination.

Here's what I do remember. We lived not far from a small swamp. The last of its kind in our part of the Country. With encroaching development inching its way across the state, we enjoyed it like it was our personal playground. I caught frogs and tadpoles and stuffed my pockets full. Then forgot they were there by the time I got home. I'm fairly certain my mother had to know they were there when she did the laundry, but she never said much about it.

So, do I let her have her brand of fun and never let on what I think about sticks, or do I act on my impulses and snap it in two when she pokes my butt with it? Hmmm, the moral dilemma.

I suppose I can tolerate a stick. At least she doesn't swing it like a bat. No, she just whacks the heck out of the dirt.

Sticks make her happy. So, I'm happy.

The Water Slide

The Lollygagger seems to receive a lot of Birthday Party invitations. She's been to Chuck E. Cheese, The Jump Zone (loads of those crazy jumping things the kids love so much), Tumble Tots (a gymnastics facility), and most recently The Fun Zone. The Fun Zone has it all. An outdoor skating rink, laser tag, mini golf, arcade games, rides, giant slides, and water slides.
The invitation said "Meet us at the water slides." It must have been pure denial on my part, because the word "water" never seemed to register.

Earlier, I shared with you my terror about The Lollygagger's swimming lessons. I'm not a water person and not excited about seeing my Lollygagger in the water either. She, however, is fearless. Which is why I stress out.

What could I do? I couldn't tell her no, she's be the only kid at the party not having fun. So, I did the right thing. I interrogated the life guard on her ability to handle a water rescue, questioned her experience, obtained her full dossier on her CPR skills, and located a life vest. By the end of it all, she looked at me dumbstruck, and told me the water in the pool at the end of the slides is only three feet, and rolled her eyes at me. Having met my objective of completely embarrassing myself, again, I felt much better.

So down she went. She was sent down the slower of the two slides because she's too short for the slide-of-insanity. Can't tell you how glad I am about that.

She also towed a hot pink inner tube-type inflatable thing up a flight of steps and rode down on the "raft" slide. She had a great time, and I stood in the 98* heat getting pictures and dehydrated.

Good times.

The turn of the leaves

Last week I notices something odd in the creek. We have a creek that runs around our house, did I ever tell you that? Anyway, the creek has a few small Oaks that have started to turn. They don't really turn into the vibrant colors of the East Coast Oaks, but they do the best they can as California Oaks.

What's the whole "Global Warming" thing about if Fall starts in August? How the heck is it we are in the middle of August, in California no less, and we already have Fall? Not that I'm complaining mind you... but it's August. We haven't gone to pick Raspberries yet. Raspberry picking is the benchmark of the middle of Summer 'round these parts. Then comes Apple picking. Apple picking marks the end of the Summer season. That doesn't start until the end of September.

I suppose this could be a sign of a very cold winter. We've been gearing up for just such a thing over the past few weeks. I've done some weatherizing and ordered some wood for the fireplace. Did I ever mention we get snow? Yes, Southern California gets snow. I love Summer and Fall, but when Fall ends, Winter begins and I don't care for the Snow.
Ah well, the Lollygagger and her Daddy will be happy about it. They enjoy riding in the laundry basket down the driveway. When we get snow, I'll show you what I mean.

Watching them act like a pair of nuts makes me happy. So I guess there is a bright side to the changing seasons.

I just wish is could come a bit later than sooner.

Funny Warnings

Recently, I purchased a new Flat Iron to replace the one I loved so much, but died unexpectedly. It's a nice new model that can be used on hair that is wet as well as dry, which is really good for me since my blow dryer likes to overheat and shut down. Getting the damn blow dryer to cool down enough to come back to life is a dizzying task. I have to blow into the vent over and over again until I'm ready to fall over with lightheadedness.

In the folded page of instructions it lists the usual dangers, like don't use while bathing, etc. What caught my attention was this dire warning: DO NOT USE WHILE SLEEPING.

It's on the right side of the page, first bullet. Click the pic to see up close.

Serious!?

Which pair cut the hair?

We have two possibilities:

The Green Scissors, or the Blue Scissors. Which pair cut the hair? It's a mystery. No one seems to know. They aren't talkin' and neither is the Lollygagger. She said it was one of the scissors, not her.

Some hair short, some hair shorter, some left long. What a mess.

Mommy cleaned up the mess. Look at her. She only THINKS she's out of trouble.

A wink and a nod, thinking she's home free.

And now a little jig.

Damn, still in trouble. Reality bites.

The Lollygagger is now banned from using Scissors!

A day at the Beach with her big Brother

The Santa Monica Pier.

Have you ever been? I've lived in Southern California my entire life and this was my first visit to this Beach. What's more, this is the Lollygaggers first visit to any beach. We came to meet up with the Lollygagger's big brother. He's the greatest big brother any child could wish for. He's the greatest son any parent could wish for. He's generous, charming and down right cute.

I wish I could take credit for his upbringing, but I can't. He's my step-son. Between his mom and my wonderful husband, he turned out to be as great a man as his dad.
Say Hi!
The Lollygagger was anxious for him to arrive so she could torture him and drag him by the hand to all parts of the city.

During her wait, she gingerly walked into the receding water for her first time. She liked the feel of her toes sinking into the sand, the water swirling at her ankles, and the sound of the waves colliding on the beach. She said the sound feels like butterflies in her chest.

She stumbled a bit when a large wave reached for her ankles and attempted to sweep her away, so daddy came to her rescue. They held hands while she jumped over the shallow tide washing in and out, avoiding the pull of the ocean on her ankles.

When her brother arrived, she forgot all about daddy and left him standing in the water feeling like yesterdays news. I think he feels a mixture of freedom and loneliness when her brother shows up. She so totally turns her attention to her big brother, that all else is forgotten and discarded.

He plays with her until she is worn out, which is a tough task to manage. She's like the energizer bunny; she never runs out of energy.

Wait, there was at least twenty minutes of diverted attention. I had the pleasure of standing in line with her for a Bungy-type of ride that never happened. See the child on the right? He belongs to the woman on the left. I didn't know he would be chivied in front of us. Nor did I know she had five other kids running a muck on the pier who would also be chivied in front of us. I did the math and decided a 15 minute joy ride for each of her children would be an unreasonable wait, so we left.

The Lollygagger was not amused.

Instead, we got her on the Dragon Swing where she had a great time.

She talked her brother into this water target game, who in turn talked the Lollygaggers daddy into it too. She won, of course.

By the time we climbed back into the car and left the beach, she was exhausted to the point of being rendered unconscious within three minutes of starting the car. We weren't even out of the parking lot.

I love these days we can spend together. Especially when her big brother is there.

The Swimming Lesson gone bad

It was awful.

Though I have nothing to compare her to, the swimming instructor is clearly capable of training small children how to swim. She's kind and gentle, and patient; patient, patient, patient.

But she's also a no nonsense-body building-life guarding-drill sergeant. There's no goofing off, no splashing until told to do so, and there will not be, under any circumstances, tears or the word "no." She wouldn't take crap from God himself. She scares me. She could make espresso nervous.
Just the same, she's damn good at what she does.

My breaking point: She instructs the children to Choo-Choo over, in train formation, to the opposing edge of the pool. One-by-one, she lifts them out of the pool and has them jump in, rollover onto their backs and float.

This went well for the first two children; then she had to deal with the Lollygagger and one other who was not willing to follow the leader. First in, went the other little darling, who was in fear for her life at the very thought of leaping from the edge and into deep water. I was on the edge of my seat. She screamed, she cried, she refused.

Then she was pulled into the water without hesitation, was rolled onto her back and had no choice but to lay in the water like Patrick the Star Fish with the instructors arms supporting her body. She was sobbing and scared beyond all reason or sanity.

I couldn't stand it. I started to tear up and had to grab a nearby towel. Not for her, for me. I glanced over at her mother, who was snapping pictures at the entire event, but secretly shaking and holding her breath.

Then my Lollygagger was next. She went ballistic. She was not going to go through THAT! Does the phrase "Hell No, I Won't Go" conjure up any images for you?
I could hardly stand it.

The entire scene I had witnessed with the first little darling played out again with my Lollygagger. The tears, the sobbing, the gnashing of teeth, the hysteria.

I was a mess! ...what, you thought I was talking about the Lollygagger?


By the end of the swim lesson, I needed a nap to come down from the stress threshold I had climbed. The swim instructor actually invited me to join the five year olds for a lesson at their level so I would feel better about the whole thing. Uuummm, no. I'll just have to settle for never failing to embarrass myself at the most inopportune moments.

I had already decided not to go back for a repeat performance, but the Lollygagger and her daddy made sure I knew how important it was for me to be there. So, I'll go back. And, I'll be brave.

If the Lollygagger can do it, so can I.

Wish me luck; I Reeeellly need it.

One Elephant on Parade

Every year just before the Memorial weekend, my Mayberry town gears up for the greatest Yard and Garage Sales events ever seen in Southern California. It's not that everyone gets together for a singular event, rather, everyone makes extreme efforts to out-do the other neighbor and have the biggest load of junk in their yard for a grander attraction. Not only do they go crazy with the amount of junk, they give away Hot Dogs and Soda as a one-upmanship to their neighbors.

People from neighboring towns, flatlanders, and foreigners all come to see the insanity. In fact, this has become such a popular event, even the stores in town have gotten into the action.
This makes for "traffic" on our tiny little street that has no sidewalks.

Our small town is so small, we have one grocery store with highly inflated prices, two gas stations (one on either end of town), a general store that sells things like notions, hallmark cards, and fudge, and as of recent years a McDonald's. Oh, and a Bowling Alley.

In seven years of living in this small town, I've seen plenty of things these stores will do to attract attention and at the same time, make my jaw drop. But nothing, nothing could have prepared this small town for what a new store on our "boulevard" had to offer.

There we were, sitting in traffic the likes we've never seen here in Mayberry, trying to get to the next block to see what great junk we could procure, when the Lollygagger shouted "ELEPHANT!!!!!"

My Mother turned to look at her in the back seat believing she had gotten too much sun and was delusional. She smiled at the Lollygagger, saying "no honey, that was a dog that crossed the road, not an elephant." "No, Lau Lau, look. There's an Elephant!"


When she saw it, my mother's only words were "Oh, my."
I, on the other hand must have been really slow on the uptake. My mind could not, would not register what my eyes were seeing. She was right. There he was, the size of a small island, with a lei on his head. An elephant. I nearly wet myself and was an inch from rear-ended the car in front of me. This of course, explains the traffic jam.

When I could finally pull off onto a side street, we went to see the smelly lad who was very relaxed and friendly. Children and adults, Lau Lau included, were fascinated. All hands in a three foot radius were reaching to touch him. I managed to think of my camera and got a few pictures, but what I wish I would have photographed was the traffic, the wider crowd, the Sheriff Deputies by the dozens issuing fines and then posing for pictures with the towns newest friend. That's were the real story was I think.

That was the best day of Garage Sailing we've has so far. Bizarre, but great. Other than more junk in my garage, lI can't wiat to see what next year brings!

The End!

Lollygagger's Big Buy

She did it. She made her first purchase with her own money, and the purchase was big.

My Lollygagger is a saver. She saves every penny she gets. What she really likes to save are quarters and dollar coins. She has five piggy banks: One for Dollar coins, One for Quarters, One for Penny's, and One for Nickels and Dimes. These are for college. The fifth one is for general spending and is filled with anything she has, but mostly Quarters and Dollar coins. This, of course, is filled first. The Lollygagger has been attending pre-school. The pre-schoolers share a playground with Kindergarten, and First grade students. Some of these youngsters have the ability to operate a two-wheel contraption the Lollygagger calls a "Ricecycle."

After a close examination of her three-wheeled Ricecycle, she decided she was behind the times and desperately needed what the other kids had. This is a rather large purchase. The type of purchase you might consider for Christmas, or a Birthday. We explained that such a purchase would cost a lot of money; money we were not prepared to part with.

Oh, how lucky. She had a solution. She would pay for it herself with her own money.

During the week we took to think about it, she insisted on looking at Ricecycles in every store we entered. She shopped and priced her favorite picks at each store and ultimately decided on the one she would buy if permitted.

It wasn't the least expensive, but it was the best Ricecycle for the money. It came with a horn, streamers on the handle bars, a zip-up bag on the front with a water bottle, training wheels, and it was purple with a Princess on it. Jackpot!

She didn't pester or whine, which I think was the driving force in our decision to allow her to spend our hard earned money she managed to save, on her chosen Ricecycle. We gave her the good news. We would go to Target the following day, piggy bank in hand, and buy the purple-princess Ricecycle.

She didn't sleep the entire night. No laughing or talking in her sleep, no dreaming of jumping in the giant bouncer, no rolling out of bed in the middle of the night. She was too excited.

The next day after school, we went to get the Ricecycle. Daddy lifted it off the rack and presented the Lollygagger with her bike. I mean, Ricecycle. It was a moment to behold. She climbed on and began to slowly ride it through the isles of the store, dodging customers and employees alike.

She managed to reach the front of the store and peeled off one of two price stickers and handed it to the cashier. Rather than dump the contents of the piggy bank out, I paid for it. The Lollygagger was told we would count out her quarter at home and she can pay me back then. The quarters would have to wait.

When she arrived home she rode her new Ricecycle for two hours straight. She was unwillingly pulled off the bike, I mean Ricecycle, due to nightfall, and cryed for the next five minutes. She spotted the piggy bank and remembered she needed to pay up. She turned over the cash and was happy to do it. She was so proud that she used her own money for her special purchase she forgot she was in the middle of a tantrum. I love it when that happens.

Here's a last picture of her on her new bike - Ricecycle. Don't worry, she does wear a helmet, just not in these pictures.

A night at the Circus

The Circus is a wonderful thing. The Clowns, the High wire, the Strong Man, and of course, the Animals. When I was but a wee young lass, I went to the Circus thanks to my brother, who won tickets at school for some reason. He's not particularly talented nor an academic over-achiever, so who knows. I think it's more likely he took them from the teachers desk when she wasn't looking.

Just the same, he handed them over to my dad, who schlepped my brother and I, and a friend of mine, Roxanna, to the Big Top.

We lucked out and got a bucket of popcorn to share and a bag of peanuts each. The Ring Master in all his glory comes out with his handle-bar mustache peeling off on one side welcoming us all to the three ring circus.

I can vividly recall the variety of animals they had on display. Not just circus animals, but they had Zoo animals too. I don't however, recall if these animals had any special talent, I just remember the animals.

-Fast forward to present day.

The Lollygagger goes to her first Circus. She sits on my feet, waiting as patiently as she can for the doors to open.

It's a two ring Circus, with a youthful Ring Master not old enough to grow a mustache, let alone a handle-bar mustache.

She is intrigued by the clowns and the tight rope, and the jugglers. She claps and cheers at every turn, and stands up for a better view of the acrobats in the rafters.

Finally, the animals. She's been waiting for the animals.

First up: Horses in the ring to the left, Zebras in the ring to the right. She loved the Zebras and couldn't take her eyes off of them. I know how much she loves horses, so I point her in their direction. Nothin' doin'. It's all about the Zebras baby! She clapped and cheered at the wonder of them. When their act was finished, she was ready to watch the horses. The problem was, like the clowns and acrobats, both rings started and finished at the same time.

On with the Elephants. She has a soft spot for elephants. We had one in our little Mayberry town in the wooded mountain top we live on. She was able to hug and pet this sweet little beast at will. Long story. I'll tell you about it another time.

The Elephants took up entirely too much room to limit them to a small ring. Good thing, too. She was able to focus on the Elephants as a single act, rather than one of two different happenings. As it is, she said she needs me to buy her another pair of eyes for the next time so she doesn't miss the horses.

Needless to say she loved the Elephants, and the Tigers that followed.

There was a group of dogs that were entertaining too.

So, why did I feel like I was missing something? What happened to the plethora of animals depicted on he Animal Cookie box? Is that box not a Circus wagon? Is it just a depiction of the Circus of old? What about my own childhood memories of the Circus animals? What happened to the Monkeys, the Ostriches, the Giraffes? Did I have the impression of an endless parade of animals, and believe in the magic the clowns performed because I was so young?

I wonder what she'll remember about her magical night when she's a momma taking her Lollygagger to the Circus? I hope she claps and cheers the whole night, resulting in her little hands feeling numb and tingly all over again.

Hooray for the magic of childhood!