MY BIG FAT FAMILY REUNION

First of all, we have never had a formal full-blown Berglund Family reunion. Sure, there have been multiple partial family gatherings for funerals and such but nothing designated as fun. My brother Richard first blogged about having a reunion earlier this year and proposed a get together next summer, 2010. After discussion he moved it up one year in consideration of those relatives aged 90, 87, 83 and 80. If your age was not mentioned, yer still a puppy.

Eventually it evolved that the meats and service items to be provided by the Letha Berglunds (GOOD JOB!!) who also organized the invitations, and a couple of special projects. There was music provided by my brother Phillip and my.. let me see, my California cousins granddaughter Eleni P. (Insert very long Greek name here) who sang the National Anthem and did an excellent raise-the-hair-on-the-back-of-your-neck-job. Everything else on the menu was potluck. There was a huge selection of food as well as the pulled pork and chicken, delish.

There were mementos, Richard and Cathy did quite a bit of research on line to try to get the facts straight about Grandpa and Grandma Berglund. He was born in Sweden ((Karl Mauritz Persson (pronounced Pierson)) and provided a very nice hand out giving names, dates, places of birth of Charlie and Nellie Berglund.





The event was held in the Emmett City Park near the band shell (which contained the public restrooms happily enough). The weather was gorgeous, there was just enough shade and no one was forced to use the Deep Woods Off to keep away mosquitoes.

Our largish family, about 60 or so attended, all who flew and drove in from California, Alaska, Colorado, Wyoming, Oregon and from towns throughout Idaho.

I shall take a small aside to relate the Coquille Alden’s nee Berglund adventure drive to Emmett. It is normally about a 12-hour drive if there are no diversions.

We left Coquille at 5 am and headed for I-5. We stopped briefly in Albany to visit with Tim’s family. Then headed north to Portland.

About mile marker 140, a red car blasted past us going well over 65…ahem… We watched this doofus swerve left and hit the dirt and then swerve right and hit the dirt. Everyone on the road dropped back several hundred yards to keep an eye on him. Sure enough, there was a huge flash of dust, he had swerved to the center divider and did a couple 360 turns, raised more dust but did not flip the car. We drove by and the driver was sitting there still facing north with the traffic with one hand on the steering wheel. Hello 9-1-1? I would like to report an accident. Let me patch you through to the State Police. Thank you. Hi, about mile marker 146 on I-5 there is a red car…We already have that information, thank you for calling. Oh…. So many cell phones today.

We continued north stopping for gas here and there highest price was 2.99 and lowest price was 2.65 both in Oregon.

Drove the Columbia Gorge and enjoyed and scenery. Where it starts to get treeless and less um scenic, there are what look like hundreds of wind power generator towers along the Washington and Oregon sides of the river, merrily twirling away at several kilowatts per hour. We stopped in Biggs to meet another of Tim’s sister’s. We followed the couple to Wasco, about 9 miles south on highway 97. Wasco is the cutest little farm town sitting in a dainty little valley. The town consists of a school, a couple churches, a store or two, residences and trees. We visited for about an hour and then left to go back the way we came. There is not much scenery in Wasco until you get back to the intersection at Highway 97. We paused at the stop sign and looking both left and right was stunned to see on the left an absolutely gorgeous view of Mount Hood and on the right an equally stunning view of what I assumed was Mount St. Helens. WOW!







Resumed drive to Emmett by Interstate 84 and headed east. We passed the Potlach tree farm near Umatilla. That thing looks like a neatly trimmed hedge from a distance, up close are all these thousands of neatly planted trees that goes on for hundreds of acres. Just think of all that O2 they are producing. I googled for a picture but the one I would LOVE to have would be a panoramic view of the farm close up but about 3 feet long by one foot high. Very soothing. I would hang it in my living room. Would some artsy fartsy person please go take that picture for me? My picture turned out all jiggly and out of focus. Darn it.





Husband noticed that the car started shaking at 70mph. Should we turn back to Pendleton? Nah, lets try it at 60 and see how it feels. Felt okay, so continued driving. Lah, lah, lah, lah. Drove to pit stop near Baker and switched drivers, I drove to about halfway between Durkee and Huntington when BOOM, whappity, whappity,whap whap whap. That cain’t be good. Pulled over behind some highway construction cones and parked. Whew sure shredded that right rear tire. I called Mom to ask where the spare tire was. We pulled out the junk in the trunk and started reading the directions. Pulled out the jack and stuff from the little hidey hole over the right rear wheel space. We managed to figure out that the tire iron was to be used by putting the pointy end in the hole (unscrew plug) which when turned counter clockwise and lowered the spare from where it was stored under the carriage.
We couldn't’t figure out how to get the metal thing out of the hole in the rim. We were JUST about to jack up the tire to make more room to get the spare down when we heard. “You guys need help?” A very kind Good Samaritan stopped and looked the situation over, jacked up the wheel, cranked the spare down all the way to the ground which allowed enough room for the metal thingy to come out without too much effort. The spare was a little low but at least not flat after almost ten years. Ron got the tire changed in less than 15 minutes and got us back on the road. We thanked him and asked how we could pay him back, he just laughed and said, “Pay it forward when you get a chance”. Ron was on his way to Lewiston. Thanks, Ron!!

We then resumed travel to Emmett, we thumped our way to Farewell Bend to get more gas and the attendant did not have any air. So we then cautiously thumped to Emmett and arrived 9 pm Mountain Daylight Savings Time. I had asked Mom to call the Holiday Motel to warn them we would be a little late. She left the door unlocked and the key in room 6. Incredibly soft mattresses felt like sleeping on marshmallows, but okay for a couple of nights.

The next morning at 8 am, we drove to Les Schwab and the guy looked at the tires and said, “These are cracking out pretty badly”. So we are now the proud owners of four brand new guaranteed for 40,000 miles All Terrain Radial sumpin’ sumpin’ tires.

The reunion was a terrific success. My sister Ellen provided T-shirts “Berglund Family Reunion 2009”. She is starting a small fund for the next reunion, might have baseball caps next time.




Mitch Ecland took tons of pictures with his big old digital Hasselblad (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) they will be well worth the wait.

They grouped us into individual family groups; Mom had the most kids, the Boise Berglunds had the most grandchildren. Nice looking bunch!





The party was rolling along nicely, Melody Berglund Dunbar was Mistress of Ceremonies and we played Berglund Bingo and she handed out various prizes. Much fun.

About that time, my youngest brother Jim came up to the microphone and asked for everyone’s attention. The crowd finally got quiet and Jim said. “We have gotten together in the past for much unhappier reasons, today we are gathered for a very happy reason and in addition I would like to call up my Fiance’ Donna and ask that you all come with me and the pastor where we will be married today.” Well! We all cheered and teared up a little. We watched the pastor give a nice little service right there in the park and who then married Jim and Donna, to much approval and hugs. SAVINGS TIP: What a great way to avoid a ruinously expensive wedding, get your big brother to plan a family reunion and then quietly put your wedding day into play. Family is still buzzing about it.

Oh and my sister, Gale, showed me her new tummy after tuck, nice! I want one! And I met her gentleman friend, Rudy. He is the guy who put handsome in the tall, dark and….

The party went on for quite a while and started to break up later in the afternoon. I had a really good time visiting with every one. General consensus was that the reunion was a good thing and let’s do it again!

We left Emmett to drive back to Coquille Sunday morning about 7 am and the weather was perfect. I had wanted to return by way of John Day but after a while we agreed that going back by way of Portland would present more opportunities for rest stops and we stopped at a variety of quality challenged places but they served their purpose well.

Our last pit stop was because husband had fallen prey to cockleburs and while he was cursing the tenacious vegetation, I had a chance to “Pay it forward”. There was a guy standing there by the men’s bathroom holding a sign that said “ Disabled Navy Vet, need help keeping roof over daughter’s head”. I walked up to him and explained, “A Good Samaritan helped us earlier in our trip. He asked us to pay it forward”. I gave him a five-dollar bill. Probably not enough to cover an emergency tire change but I felt that I had partially fulfilled our promise.

We got home about 7:30 pm, not bad for a 12 hour day. See ya next time!!

ADDENDUM:

I apologize in advance if I missed any names, choice bits or funny parts, this ain’t exactly Pulitzer Prize material. Hmmm, with the near death of paper news media I wonder if there will ever be a Pulitzer Prize for blogging…..something to think about.

PS; Remember you can click on any picture to make it very very large.
I didn't put names under the pictures, because you know who you are!

C'mon Hollywood...Make This Movie and don't screw it up!

I don't want much from my entertainment. However in this recession my one wish would be that the powers that be or a smart indie producer jump all over Elizabeth Vaughn's Warprize trilogy.

Short version: Half sister to the king of soon to be conquered kingdom, is a healer and not into being a princess. Some of the enemy soldiers have been captured and she treats their wounds. Learns their language. Learns that their society does not recognize medicine, if the soldier asks one of their soldier priests will administer mercy (Axe to neck). Story advances, The Warleader conquers the city, makes deal with King to take his half-sister as his Warprize. King tells half-sister she is to be presented as the Warleaders slave. Story progresses from there.

Now let's cast this thing. Should probably go with a good looking unknown since it will most likely be an indie film. So, our Warprize should be tallish, arms like Michelle Obama, very pretty. Well an Angelina Jolie look a like would work. And admittedly Brad Pitt would make a terrific Warleader, And BranJolina deserve the Best Actress and Best Actor award after all. However, we should have an open cast call to check out full range of faces.

The King should be played by Kevin Pollock, he is talented and would lend a great deal to the persona of the King.

There is a black character portrayed in the book who is a general and grievously wounded and whom Warprize saves. I watched Alton Brown's show where they went eating in the tropics and on one island they visited we met the pastor of one of the churches. He was a very large very black man with very non negroid features. If we could cast the general in that fashion, it would be very striking cinematically.

There is also film location to consider. We need a small hilly kingdom with castles, Hmm, how about Scotland? And we need vast prairies for the huge armies to slog through, how about the Alto Plano or Wyoming, all those annoying brick oil pumping stations could be digitally erased.

Okay all you Indie producers and maverik Hollywood film makers get busy now. This story is begging to be told. And please for love of all things literary, stick to the damn story, do NOT throw in plot lines about Elvis's alien baby, or I won't spend ten dollars to go see this thing and neither will the rest of the 60 million movie goers. Ooh that is 600 MILLION buck not counting multiple viewing and product tie in's. Go get 'em!!

Meet Flo and Stephanie

This is a picture of Flo from those ubiquitous Progressive Insurance advertisements. She has bright red lips, long eyelashes and really cranky hair that is under control with a headband, makes her head an odd shape, but that's television for you.
I became curious about her and hoped to see a "real" picture of Flo.



It turns out that Flo is really Stephanie Courtney, and who is MUCH prettier than Flo.
But that's google for you.
Who knows about the car insurance...I have low insurance premiums because I am old and have a home and car insurance that is combined. DISCOUNT!!

NPR and Naturally 7

Every morning I wake up to NPR. On Saturday I listen to Scott Simons on Weekend Edition. This morning he introduced an unusual group called "Naturally 7". They each introduced themselves and their instrument, in this case their voices. They sang an old Phil Collins tune "In The Air Tonight". They were in Paris at a gig and the manager asked them to perform on the Paris Metro to see what would happen. They started singing (I highly recommend Googling "Paris Metro Naturally 7") and there was one stony faced man listening to his own music but gradually the entire car turned around to enjoy these men's superb vocalization. I immediately ordered a couple CD's from Amazon.com. I can hardly wait!

Dreamed about buttons.....

I woke up from a dream that the most impressive image seemed to be three large buttons. For some weird reason these buttons represented computer updates that everyone in my class was doing. I remember that I had reviewed the icons on screen thinking that I would update later. Everyone else was very concerned about getting theirs done.

Dream site interprets buttons as follows:

To see a button in your dream, indicates wealth and security. Alternatively, the dream may also be a metaphor for being too "buttoned up" or refrained. You need to let loose and be yourself.

Hmmm, I would love to presume that THREE buttons indicates triple wealth and security, or that I really a triple shot next time I cut loose. Oh my head!

THE FROG GIRL AND VEGETABLE BARLEY SOUP

"The Frog Girl and Vegetable Barley Soup"

One upon a time, a long time ago, there was a pretty young girl with long brown hair and green eyes. Her name was Allison. She had not always been a pretty young girl, at least, not at first. All of her life she had lived in the woods and marshes. She came from a family of frog people. That is, people who are frogs part of the time and people part of the time. She was orphaned as a tadpole when a great summer heat wave dried up almost all of the marsh.

She had been hidden by her frog parents in the wettest part of the bog and she alone survived that terrible summer. For five years she lived in the marsh as a frog. On her fifth birthday she woke up one morning and discovered that she had grown up to be part human as well.

She discovered that she could still swim as a human girl but she couldn't talk without making a shrieking sound, kind of like a frog scream. Ribbbarrrgh! She frightened off the flies and other things she liked to eat when she was a frog, so she never learned to speak except in frog sounds. She lived happily in the marsh changing back and forth between human and from until she had perfected the ability to be a frog one minute and a human girl the next. However, she still had a terrible speech defect. Ribbarrrgh!!

One spring it was especially wet and rainy. The marsh flooded so that Allison over reacted a bit splashing about in her girl form and she fell into an unusually deep bit of the marsh. A little old man passing by pulled her from the water and congratulated himself for having saved her. The little old man was mostly bald with a rim of silver hair pulled back in a band and his eyes were twinkling as he said,

"Well, you look like you could benefit from a cup of good vegetable barley soup, eh my girl?"

She nodded mutely. He bustled about making camp. He dished her up a cup of soup from his campfire and she drank it. Oddly enough there always seemed to be a tablespoon or so of soup swirling around in the bottom of the cup which she was trying to empty. She finally became so full that she fell fast asleep by the little old man's campfire, snoring gentle frog snores. "Ribbbggnzzz...ribbbggnzzz..."

When she woke up , the little old man told her that he was a retired magician. He told Allison that he had consulted his Book of Magic and had discovered that she was a very rare individual, a frog person. Naturally she perked up at this having never met anyone who knew anything about her people. She was just bursting with questions. She was also quite unable to make herself understood. She stammered frog ribbets, frog grumples and snatches of frog song but the magician only waited politely until she became quiet.

He said. "Let me tell you what little I know about frog people."

She sat patiently combing her hair and generally tidying up her person as the magician rambled on about her frog heritage. She did not learn much other than what she already knew. She could change into a frog whenever she wanted. She could change into a girl whenever she wanted. She could hear and understand human speech but she could only speak Froggish.

The Magician did impart the rather remarkable fact that she could remain a human girl if she consumed a bowl of vegetable barley soup each day. The Magician gave her his cup and told her she would never quite run out of soup if she used that cup. He also warned her to beware of strangers because sorcerers were always on the look out for magical creatures. She would be captured and sold as quick as a wink. He also advised her to plant a garden and make vegetable barley soup every day. She thanked him in Froggish and nodded thoughtfully. The Magician bade her farewell and prepared to leave. She looked wistfully after him and he turned and called back to her,

"Oh, I almost forgot, marry the man named Robert!" and he waved goodbye.

Allison planted a good-sized garden that spring. She planted potatoes, carrots, onions, celery, tomatoes, garlic, parsnip, parsley and barley. She tended her garden all summer long in between bouts of frog-to-girl and girl-to-frog. At the proper time she harvested her garden. She picked and dried onions, tomatoes and carrots, she cut barley and thrashed the grains from the stalks.

When she got human girl blisters on her hands from all the hard work, she would turn into a frog to soak her smaller frog blisters in the pond. She pulled garlic bulbs and hung them to dry, she pulled parsnips and buried them in piles of dried grasses. She turned potato hills and dug a root cellar where she put away all of her vegetables for the winter. She let the parsley grow in a pot so she could cut a few sprigs for reasoning from time to time. She knew where a salt lick was near the marsh so she gathered her salt and stored it in a hollow tree.

The harvest weather was especially hot and sticky so it was very nice to turn into a frog for a quick swim in the marsh. She was happy and often sang Froggish songs.

"Ribbarrgh! Ribbarrgh! R-r-r-r-rib-b-b-b-barggllll..!" she trilled.

She made her vegetable barley soup and served herself using the magician's cup and never quite ran out of soup even in the darkest depths of winter.

One day a woodsman came into the marsh to look for valuable things to sell at the market. He spied on Allison a she hopped into frog form to the edge of the water and blinked in surprise when she turned from a frog into a girl with long brown hair and green eyes.

Well! Thought the woodsman, a magic frog! I believe I can sell this little one to a sorcerer for a fortune in gold. He quickly grabbed her by the hair she shrieked froggishly and instantly turned into a frog. He dropped his hat down on top of her and captured her. He put her in a leather bag on his belt to carry her to town. She screamed every awful thing she should think of at him.

"You stinky skunk! You ugly bug! You smelly person!" It all sounded like "Ribbert! Ribbargh! Ribbargle!", to the woodsman.

He carried her all the way to town where he told a local sorcerer that he had found a magic frog to sell him.

"Oh show me..." drawled the sorcerer having seen his share of dubious magic creatures.

The woodsman opened the pouch and Allison blinked up at them both,
"Ribbett" she said.

"What else does the magic frog do?" inquired the sorcerer archly.

"I saw it change into a girl before my very eyes!" sputtered the red faced woodsman, "Lets put it in a room and leave it alone and see what happens!".

Allison was put in a room with nothing in it but a very high window and lots of cobwebs and spiders. They left her there for four days and checked each day to see if she had turned into a girl. But each day there she sat as a frog. However a few spiders went missing each day. By the end of four days the spiders were all gone. Allison had eaten very well and remained a frog. "Ribbburrrp!"

The sorcerer shook his head sadly and announced, "Time is up, the frog is still a frog. I will not pay anything for a spider eating frog!".

The woodsman was very disappointed and put Allison inside the leather pouch and took her out of the room. He went to the local pub for a drink. He ordered a very large ale and drank it down. Then he ordered a cask of ale and drank it down. Then he ordered a hogshead of ale and drank that right down. He got drunk on ale and fell asleep. After he fell asleep Allison hopped out of the leather bag. She hopped outside and changed back into a girl and ran back to the marsh lecturing herself about strangers and the dangers therein.

Time passed and one delightful summer day, a biologist came tramping through the woods and marsh near Allison's home. Which by now was quite comfortably furnished through her own efforts at human girl homemaking. The biologist was a fine fellow, well educated in the ways of the world. He specialized in biology but his favorite hobby was frog watching. He had heard the unmistakable sound of a mating female pond frog and wanted to observe the frog in his field notebook. Imagine his surprise when he met Allison singing the frog mating song!

Allison was startled to see the young man, remembered the woodsman and let slip a little froggish scream. She hurried inside the house undecided what to do. He knocked on the door and said, "Hello there! Come out I won't hurt you I just want to talk to you."

She thought a bit and decided that she would be hospitable. She cautiously opened the door and offered him a bowl of hot vegetable barley soup.

He took it, "For me? Vegetable barley, if I miss my guess, my favorite! Thank you, er, Miss..um Miss?"

She murmured her name softly, "Allison" but it sounded like Ribberta.

He misunderstood her completely and announced, "Ah that's Robert, Robert if you please".

Allison's heart leapt in recognition. He nodded thoughtfully and said, "Of course! You don't speak human speech?"

Allison shook her head brightly, no.

"Yet you understand me?" Again an affirmative nod.

"Ah, you are mute!" She shook her head no.

She trilled in Froggish, "I may as well confess, I understand your speech, but I speak only Frog." Robert heard only "Ribbarrgh, ribbargh, ribbargle".

The young man reintroduced himself and explained that he was a traveling biologist with a minor in communication. Allison sighed to herself and thought what a nice Froggish name, Robert.

She was about half-way in love with Robert. Robert was utterly charmed with her brown hair and green eyes and was about three-quarters in love with Allison.

After a few more moments of getting acquainted Robert decided to stay with Allison to compile a Froggish dictionary and to teach her to speak Human. Eventually they married themselves to each other in a simple Frog/Human ceremony with the general marsh population as witness.

Over the years he didn't mind if she forgot to eat a cup of vegetable barley soup once a day. She didn't mind that he sometimes forgot to leave his muddy shoes outside the door. He thought she was a fine cook and always ate plenty of vegetable barley soup himself, which never quite seemed to run out.

He admired her frog voice and even composed a Froggish opera, within which the duet they sang together was quite harmonically remarkable. Her human speech impediment never did quite clear up, but Robert always thought she had a charming Froggish accent. They lived quietly and happily ever after.

THE END

Actually it is much MUCH worse.....

Have finally gotten over the coughing til I herniate part and have progressed to the sneezing till the head explodes part. Worked 4 half days in self defense just to get the minimum done so I could retire grateful that I would only have to start over the next day. Have been so out of it, that I didn't realize that Memorial Day is THIS MONDAY! , I must now decide whether to work or not. Gah, please pass the tissues. Cranky! CRANKY I tell you....