HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Tyler turns 15 today. I think that's pretty amazing, turning 15. The transition between 14 year old boy to 15 year old young man has been astonishing to watch and yet, at times, frustrating to experience. Many times, frustrating, yes...MANY times. But now, I see him stepping over into the man he is working so hard to become and I find it absolutely amazing to watch. So hard because
I imagine traveling though the teenage years is difficult, challenging, overwhelming, frightening, and so incredibly joyous that a 15 year old doesn't possess the capacity to process it all. I imagine, because I can't really remember. I remember odds and ends, bits and pieces, but nothing too impacting to remain in the forefront of my brain. I'm sure there were several character building events that now help to make up who I am, but real live purposeful choices are absent. Perhaps that's age. Perhaps that's me still processing. That's one of the reasons watching Tyler's journey is amazing to me. Watching his discoveries. The personal philosophies he's developing, his faith in himself and those around him. The dreams becoming more in focus and hopefully not fading with the realization that hard work might be involved. The pain in his face when he realizes that the world is not one big amusement park and the laughter in his voice when he let's it all go just to have a good time. His friends are talking about Skin Heads and drugs, music and girls, sports and movies. Sometime politics, not too much yet, but they dabble. Teachers are either icons or idiots and technology is the end all be all in any way shape or form. And with all this talk, and with all this texting, and I mean "ALL" this texting, to see him discovering himself and to watch the foundation that is being formed beneath....is, well I have to say...
....I'm pretty proud! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TYLER! :) (your mom)

Grandpa's Wisdom

A man once said, "Home, in one form or another, is the great object of life". There is wisdom in that. As we grow into adulthood we "leave the nest", as it were, to find our niche in the world. But, never in our quest for the freedom and independence that we seek do we intend to leave "home". Indeed, we move from one home, that one in which we grew up, which developed and nurtured our character, which taught us about who we are, and provided love and comfort; to start another home of our own. The desire to become free and independent did not remove from us, nor alter our pursuit of the "great object of life", to have a place to settle into a place we could call our own. This quest for "Home" is not to leave behind, nor to abandon that from which we came. We still have a tether to that place, its memories, its traditions, indeed the very people within that home, that shared and taught important things to us. Rather our goal, the object of our pursuit, is to replicate all the good that inhabited that place, and to build upon that good with our own ideas and standards. We take the traditions, teachings and comforts of the past habitation and blend them into our own recipe for "home". In doing so, we forsake that which was unpleasant for us there, or what we did not agree with there, or which did not suit our fancy there, and generate our own imprint, our own definition of place, of "home". It then becomes "our home". It becomes the place where the identity of our character and our traditions are there for others to see, where they flourish. This imprint includes more than just the "things" we bring into the new home. The things make a contribution to what we are creating, to be sure. Things, too, are a part of the definition of who we are. We might be eclectic or specifically defined in our choice of decor. These are the elements of what contributes to a house being a home. But that to which I refer is measured by the intangibles. The comfort created. The charm. The personal identity that says to every visitor, "This is where I live". These elements are what really make a house a home. These elements not only define the home, they define you. Every visitor will come to know you by what they experience in your home. Will what you create be an invitation for someone to want to return again and again? Or, will their first impression be their last impression? We do not think much of our home as we abide there from day to day. But when we strike out to create a home we begin to put ourselves into it, to reveal ourselves to the creation, and to those who will soon visit. We and the home we create will be the invitation, the event, the tradition and the memory.

Grandson Justin has recently embarked on this journey. May he reach back into the recesses of his past home experiences to pull the best of them as he unleashes his creativity into the development of his first, very own dream home. I know we'll know Justin when we visit his home.

Grandpa's Wisdom

Well, I guess nobody but one cares about what my teacher thought was the hardest thing about driving. To that one inquiring mind, this is it: She could not see over the hood of the car from the drivers seat; she was too short, but not real short. So, for the one person who was interested enough to respond, I want all to know that that person is now the only person listed in my will as an heir. Both of my assets will be given to that person upon my death. Now I suppose all of you will try to come forth and claim that you are the one respondent. Well don't you try it, cause I had a secret identifier installed on the blog so only I would know the exact name of those who respond.

Next item: The thing I am pointing to in the photo at the right is

Crafty Bandits

Ok, so someone just told me a story about a woman who was recently arrested for selling stolen scrap-booking materials out of her living room. Apparently she was all the talk amongst the circles, scrap-booking that is, and everyone that was anyone knew that she had obviously stolen the goods, but the deals were so good that they all just continued to go diligently hush hush to her house to make their purchases. Hmmmmm, I mean, seriously, isn't aiding and abetting a crime, and with all those scrapbooks chock-full of evidence why weren't they all carted away to the pokey? However, on the other hand, can you blame her, or them, that stuffs expensive! Maybe she just wanted to "stick it to the man." One has to wonder; is the economy so bad that it's forcing scrap-booker's across the country into underground crime rings? After all, isn't that one of our basic rights; The Right to Bear Arms & The Right to Scrap-book. Perhaps the candidates will catch wind of it all and decide the issue needs to be added to their platforms. Hillary can demand lower prices and Obama change. Then Hillary can argue that she said "change" first and Obama can say; "ok, then lower prices." Then Hillary will say; "No wait, I said lower prices first." Obama can switch back saying; "change is inevitable", and so on and so forth until McCain, whose just waiting, can slingshot himself to the podium...who knows what he'll say, I haven't heard very much, so I guess we'll just have to wait and see. Maybe the ladies will take it upon themselves to hire Chuck Norris as their celebrity spokesperson. Ridding the country of all overpriced scrap-booking goods with a wave of his fist and a firm handshake. I hear he's looking for another gig and not to mention the fact that he may just inspire young men across the country, ages 18-22, to pick up the art of scrapbooking, creating a nationwide frenzy...but no, wait, then prices will surely skyrocket. But who cares, songs will be written and television shows produced. maybe even an action figure or two. Disney might even grab ahold of it all and produce an animated series. And don't worry about those ladies, the one's who started it all, they'll get their cut, someday...Maybe Maury Povich or Celebrity Fit Club...and we all know that Deal or No Deal ain't goin anywhere!

Grandpa's Wisdom

As I was driving from New York to North Carolina the other night I got to thinking about Miss Buffham, my second grade teacher at Woodlawn Elementary School. It relates to driving because what I was remembering was the time she asked our class a question related to driving.

The questions was what we thought was the hardest thing about driving a car.

Miss Buffham was young and hadn't been teaching very long. I didn't think that at the time, only that she was pretty. It's hard to imagine now why she would have posed such a question to a group of second graders, let alone spend about an hour of class time on such a topic. At the time we class members didn't wonder such things, only enjoyed the challenge, especially we boys. Driving was a "boy thing" so the girls didn't really participate too much, as I recall. I remember the array of answers we offered were far reaching and demonstrated a pretty good understanding of driving a car by eight and nine year old students.

After more than an hour of rather creative possibilities, we still hadn't come to the answer Miss Buffham considered to be her greatest challenge when driving. Can you?

Grandpa's Wisdom

Necco Wafers, Nehi Grape Soda, Black Jack Gum, Drive-in movies and A & W Root Beer Floats in a frosted glass brought to your car by a waitress on roller skates. Gas for .299 cents per gallon. Listening to your favorite DJ on the radio on a sunny spring day to music that you could understand the words to, that put you into a mood for something good. This was the beginning of the MacDonald's Drive-In, when the big news was when you saw the sign proclaiming "Over One Million Sold" on the golden arches sign.

Life as a teenager was good then. The transition from "Grade" School to High School was an adventure I looked forward to, as a right of passage from being a "kid" to the beginning of adulthood. In that transition summer my friends and I actually discussed how we would define ourselves in high school.

Would we be "Gunners"? They were the guys that wore Levi's, white tee shirts with a pack of cigarettes rolled up in the sleeve, a greased back "Duck Tail" haircut and a sneer of cockiness on their face. These guys roamed in groups, for strength(?), and usually hung around smoking cigarettes while in idle chatter. Occasionally one would "get into trouble" and that was considered "neat" by the group. Trouble could be anything from getting bad grades to getting caught shoplifting. In winter they wore leather jackets. Their goal was to get a job after high school, get married or join the Army or Navy.

Or would we get a "Princeton" hair cut, wear white cord's, a Stradivarius shirt, the one with the pockets cut at a slant, and highly polished "Brogue" shoes that were a couple of sizes too large so they would roll up at the toe. A thin, (Half inch), belt was also an obligatory appendage to the "uniform", as were vee-neck sweaters. These guys didn't have a group name but were easily identified, too. It was expensive to be in this group. They were guys who came from families that were well off financially or they had part time jobs from the time they could work. They started with paper routes, worked the berry and bean fields in the summer and worked at their dad's business or local drive-in restaurants during the school year. Their goal was college after high school that would prepare them for the career of their choice, or the one their parents chose for them.

When I got to high school I found that there were other groups, too. I didn't have to "join" something to be someone. My identity could be defined by what I chose for myself. Some of the guys I hung out with in my early teens chose the "Gunner" group and others became "Princetonites". Although I didn't adopt the complete style, I gravitated toward that group because the idea of getting into trouble to impress my peers just didn't appeal to me. On the other hand, working toward a worthwhile goal did. I couldn't afford all the "gear"; Strad and Pendleton shirts were very expensive and since mom did the shopping at that time I had to abide by her budget. When I told her I wanted "cords" for the school year and she got me salt and pepper cords instead of white cords I decided to get a job and do my own shopping.

I wore the general style of the Princetonite group but couldn't afford most of it so I adopted my own styles. I was the only guy in Jefferson High School that wore the jacket I'd picked out. I liked it; it was comfortable, not too expensive and it identified me alone. The Brogue shoes I wore the first year were expensive, uncomfortable due to being oversized, for fashion, and hard to keep a shine on since I walked to and from school, (two miles, rain or snow, by the way). So I decided on two comfortable shoes, a loafer for spring and summer, and Converse tennis shoes for winter. Since Bill Knight was my age, Nike was not invented yet. I liked the vee-neck sweaters but soon found that my slight excess weight put bulges in the sweaters that others who wore them didn't have. It was then that I began my lifelong pursuit of a better shape. Being somewhat short, with stoop shoulders and a propensity to my mom's fatty food diet, my only recourse was exercise through school sports activities. I learned that if I kept active I could eat what I wanted and still be stylish.

These were, indeed, the good times. Life was telling me that I had choices to make. And, even though they sometimes seemed to be difficult choices at the time, they were really simple choices, but choices that could and would have life-long impact. It was telling me that things change, and being able to adapt was better than not. It was a time I learned that rewards and blessings come from correct choices that not only effect your future but mold you into what you will become. Now, in this Autumn of my life, I see the effect of those choices in myself and in the family I would create. And, the bonus of the memories I have are their own reward...Necco Wafers, Nehi Grape Soda.......

Detour to Salt Lake

So I hear that some of you want to hear about my crazy flight's...Where do I begin?
It all started bad by having to leave the house at 3:30 am to get to Portland to make a 6am flight to Alabama. I got on just fine and with no problems with the exception of sitting between a couple of large people I was breathing a sigh or relief. I had my drink of soda and dove into my snack bag (dang airline with no more snacks) and got out my book to read when all of a sudden the lights and bells to summons the flight attendants started to go crazy. 5 rows up an old man fell dead into the isle. I pilot comes over the intercom and asks if there is a doctor on board and of course there is NOT! So they start CPR and preform that for about 35 minutes while they make an emergency landing to Salt Lake. I have never done a landing that fast. We made a nose dive for SL and landed a ways from the airport to meet the medics. After they got the man off the plane they had to refuel and then do a bio hazard clean up and get us off to Dallas. When I got off the plane in Dallas I had to run up to the sky train and ride for about to the next gate which was FOREVER away and run to my next gate. When I got to the gate she asked my if I was Lisa and when I said yes she told me to get on. No scanning my ticket or nothing. I got on the plane and they closed the door behind me and it was taking off before I got my buckle on. Knowing how far I had to run and that they took off before I had my buckle I thought, there was no way my luggage would have made my flight...but it did.
Flight home...delayed forever, had to change airlines, got the secondary search, flight delayed again and almost missed my next flight again.... But I made it.

Grandpa's Wisdom

There's a saying that copying is the greatest form of flattery.

As I've watched each of our children grow into adults I see the kinds of things they become interested in doing with, and in, their lives. These things become a part of who we are. Great leaders all have the characteristic of knowing who they are and how to get to where they want to be. They know themselves. The Fabulous Four of the Green Machine are endowed with this characteristic.

Cooking and Running, (Jogging) are a couple of things that have come to mind lately. To wit: All four of my children seem to love to cook. All but one has engaged in running or jogging at some time in their life. Tim doesn't "formally" run or jog but is too busy working "the Property", fixing and building things, etc. as his hobbies. But, he does cook.

Jenni runs almost daily and has made it a part of her life's routine. As with most runners, she is fixated on her hobby. She is not a competitive runner; she does it for her own pleasure and satisfaction. I can relate to that because in earlier adulthood I, too, was fixated for period; and I got out of it the same pleasures she does. Lisa has run for a purpose, too; to get and stay in shape, to lose weight and to feel better. Again, that has been my goal, but with the added motivation that the more I ran, the more I could comfortably eat. Jerry started running fairly recently. I think he was inspired and motivated by Cathy, which is a good thing.

It was when I heard recently that Jerry was in training to run the famous Hood to Coast run next August that I began to recall the time I ran that race. At that time, the run started at Timberline Lodge on Mount Hood and ended in Pacific City on the central Oregon Coast, about 185 miles away. The teams consisted of 10 to 12 runners each taking on three five mile sections of the relay. The change now is that it ends in Seaside on the northern Oregon coast, but still the same format.

Other than my running regimen at the time, I didn't really "train" for this specific run. I was asked to join a team only three weeks before the event. I accepted and for three weeks I labored over whether I'd made a correct decision. Like Jenni, I've never considered myself a competitor against others, only myself. Jerry is doing the right thing. He's set his goal and he's working toward it with his training. Certainly, the rewards are to come.

One of the greatest thrills of that experience for me was to see Sharron and each of my children along the race route cheering me on. Talk about motivation. This race takes about 20 to 24 hours to complete so some of the running takes place during the dark hours of night. With each of my relay turns, night or day, I found my family supporting me along my route. They cheered in support and took photos and video that we all enjoyed watching later. I haven't seen those videos in quite some time, but what a memory for me. Not just the run, but being joined by my family. Now, with Jerry's effort to do the same, I have the added pleasure of remembering that experience again, as well as the flattery of him copying one of my fondest life experiences. I know that Sharron feels the same about each of our children emulating her in the kitchen.

Copying is, indeed, the best form of flattery. With both cooking and running, each of you are engaging in interests that will become traditions that will become the memories of your future, just like the many traditions we now have of the Green Machine Christmas. These traditions perpetuate and bind our family, generation after generation.

I hope that each of the "Pack of 13", (our beautiful and talented grandchildren), are taught these traditions and will become engaged in them the same as the Fabulous Four of the Green Machine have done. Let's all support Jerry in the big race next August.

DAD

Splattermaster

It's surprising to me that someone with two guys in the house would not understand "splatter". Just as Jenni stated, while the natural function is taking place, she herself admitted that her eye contact roved from the right to the left, "casually". Can't guys "casually" change our eye contact from the right to the left of the target? Of course, guys have to stand for this event so it's related to the Fulcrum Principle of physical science, discovered by John Fulcrum: ie, When a body casually rotates from right to left during relief activities splatter occurs. For additional related information search the Principle of the Drip.
SPLATTERMASTER

In defense of Splatter

This is all I will say about the subject.  It just happens.  If you are not a male, you just won't understand.  

Thank you,

The Dudes

I'm so sorry to disillusion you, but....

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus...no, no, I mean there is splatter in the world....at our little Cazenovia house there was a mirror to the right of the toilet and the mirror very carefully encoded every male episode in the bathroom... however, I can only report on one elderly gentleman and his splatter....I'm sure there are other members of the family with a larger circle of males who can shed some further light on this subject.
(Lisa is in Alabama at the moment or I'm sure she would be all over this....
She topped our emergency landing as her flight had a death on the plane....I'll let her explain....)

A Woman's right

I need to know...I need to know, right now!  Do any of the other women in the family have a problem with....splatter?  Pee splatter.  Yes, I'm sorry if this is inappropriate blog matter, but I really need to know.  Often, when enjoying a nice quiet peaceful moment to myself in the lavatory, I'll casually look to, let's say...the right and there, there on the wall, I'll find....splatter.

Then, in what can possibly be described as horror, or disgust, the instinct to turn away will hit and my gaze automatically goes to the left, and there, there on the wall I'll see some more...more SPLATTER.  It just happened, just now, and so I really really need to know...is this common? I don't get it.  It's really a matter of paying attention, isn't it? I don't get it, I just really don't get it.

Grandpa's Wisdom

I hear Craig and Lisa now have a new car. I guess it's the latest Toyota brand SUV. That's "Sports Utility Vehicle". I haven't seen it but Grandma has pointed them out on the highway as we drive. It's a nice car and I know it is serving them well. I got to thinking about "Boingo", the trusty brick they had when they first got married, when the boys were just babes, or not born yet. It was the car Craig brought to the family and he'd had it for about a hundred years before he and Lisa met. But it was trusty and got them from point "A" to point "B" and that's what a family car is supposed to do.

It got me to thinking about the first family car I can remember as I was growing up. It was a 1936 Chevrolet. My dad would never buy anything but a Chevy, just like he always bought his gas at a Shell station, smoked only Camel cigarettes and only banked at First National Bank. He was set in his ways. But that '36 Chevy was reliable. My earliest recollection of our family car was pretty early in my life because I remember not being able to see out the windows because I was too low in the seats. The seat belt we had then was the belt my dad had around his waist. He promised to use that belt on on our "seats" if we played around too much as we traveled, especially on long trips. My brother Mike and I would draw a line on the fabric seats that divided his space from mine. If either of us crossed that line, an argument would start and shortly after, the car would stop and Dad's belt would come off.

The most vivid memory I had of traveling was the time we took a Sunday drive up the Columbia River Highway. Now, at this time the nice, wide freeway down along the rivers edge had not yet been built. We traveled what is known today as the "old Columbia River Road". It was at the higher elevation, and passed by Crown Point and the rest stop there. It was a very winding, narrow road, even in those days. We started the trip about mid-day, (Mom was always hard to start). We stopped for the views at Crown Point, picked huckleberries at Larch Mountain and visited Multnomah Falls. It was late when we started back home and a raging storm chased us all the way back. The wind was howling like it does in a monster movie, the rain pounded the windshield, the wipers beat a constant rhythm from the front seat and all I could see from my low vantage point was darkness. None of us in the car spoke any words as Dad piloted the car through the winding curves of the narrow highway. But all of us had faith that my Dad could deliver us from this "evil". And sure enough, even though the night seemed long to me, we soon were amongst the lights of Troutdale, safer and straighter roads, and only about an hour and a half from home.

I don't know why this is a trip I remember so vividly, because nothing happened to make it stand out, except the storm and the darkness. I was very frightened until Dad got us to safety. I think now it is when I began to respect and admire my Dad for the strength he represented in our family. He was quiet and calm all the time, but sure of his actions and always seemed to know the way and what was right. Today I appreciate the way each of my sons and sons-in-law demonstrate this same characteristic to each of their children. It comforts me that my grand kids are in good hands.

Birthday Bash

Come one Come all...
Please come celebrate Stuarts Birthday #12!!! (his parents are wondering where the time has gone. If anyone has found our lost time please return it. No questions asked)
March 9th Sunday Night
6 pm or earlier if you want to hang out
here at Green Towers
Lots of cake and ice cream will be involved
RSVP 503.932.0955 Lisa Cell

News From Dad

Talk about getting into the 21st Century. Here's ol' Dad writing a BLOG. Next thing you know I'll be voting Democrat and hugging trees!

Work is still fun...work is still fun...work is still fun. I have to keep reminding myself that it's ok to be 3,000 miles away from my wonderful family. Reading your blogs has really made me homesick. I know that's not what it's about, but I guess I'm just getting to be too sentimental in my old age.

In my free time I've been reading a lot. As you all know, when I read I eat M&M's to stay awake. So, I am also gaining weight. Before I come back home again I'll post some photos on the blog so you'll be able to recognize me at the airport. I just finished JOHN ADAMS, a biography. It was very interesting how much of a part he played in the birth of our nation. He and his wife, Abigail, were very close and obviously in love. It reminds me of our family relationships. I'm so proud of each of you kids and the family traditions you each have, the love and nurturing you offer to our grandchildren. The foundations you are laying will reward you, as it does me, in your later years. Thanx to you all for being such good kids. I guess you all took me seriously over the years when you asked what I wanted for my birthday, or for Christmas: "Good Kids!"

I've got lots of other things to add which I will do when I get into the solitude of our home and I can think without interruptions from my work. Work is still fun...work is still fun...

This Is Wonderful

We are so excited for this blogsite. We're still trying to figure out how it works. I couldn't post our birthdays where they should be but here they are:
Grandpa June 22, 1940
Grandma March 28, 1944
yes, we're old...

It's great to see what the family is doing...we'll try and figure out the picture thing soon.
We just got back from a food show in Vegas and a day at Kristi's in Claremont. Our trip was tiring and the flight out was almost as bad as the flight back. Our weather is snow, snow, and more snow. And we're supposed to get some ice by the week-end. I know, I know, you are all having daffodils, daphne, flowering trees and soft breezes...we're staring at white snow, gray snow, brown snow, dirty snow, and then a puddle or two.
We've been reading and working on genealogy. ...when you post the birthdays please post the year everyone was born. I want to make sure the years are correct in my records.
Love you all and miss you so much.

Emergency Landing in New York

Grandpa and I were flying into Syracuse, New York last week when the pilot told us to prepare for landing. But we continued to fly around and around...finally the pilot came over the intercom and told us we were going in for an emergency landing as our flaps would not go down! He said we would come in for the landing'hard and fast' and so be prepared...and then he added, "but don't worry, I've done this in the simulator lots of times!". Of course, that made us feel soooo much better. We came in 'hard and fast'...the fire trucks met us and followed us into the gate. We had been holding hands throughout the ordeal and it felt wonderful to be on the ground and safe. After we landed the passengers gave a big ovation for the pilot, he did a great job.

Does this really work?

This is the first time I have ever blogged or done anything technical on the internet. The most I've done is watch crazy videos on Youtube. I'm old and not technically savvy. I apologize if this writing, intended for the Green Machine, is being viewed by the general public. Certainly you will find yourself being bored to sleep with stories of childhood lemonaid stands, monster cookies, and arguments over what to bring to eat during the holidays. So here goes...
New(s) from the Jerry Green clan- Jerry is working, trying to get into shape to run in the footsteps of his father from the heights of Mt. Hood to the blue seas of the pacific. Cathy is busy picking colors to paint various rooms around the house and planning for a spring herb and vegetable garden. Austin has dedicated himself to high school baseball- so much so that we went last weekend and he cut most all of his hair off! His coach didn't even recognize him. Dylan has taken up the drums, and is doing really well. Now the banging from his room at least has a rhythm.
Birthdays
Jerry -April 5
Cathy -October 14
Austin - June 7
Dylan -June 20
Tim -March 29
Tia -???

Checking in from Silverton

Well I hacked into this some how...but I still don't know how to fill in our birthdates!

This is going to be great when we can work out all the kinks. Just to fill you in on the Robertson clan: Layne has been camping and hiking in the rain for the weekend! Duncan and Stuart are making their own dinner tonight. Know what they are making...Spam and scrambled eggs! How funny is that. They love spam!

Stuart's birthday is next Friday the 7th. We will be having a small get together TBA later this week, then I'm off to Alabama and Mississippi to have a little southern cooking and listen to some banjo music. Does anybody want anything from down south?

All right people...

GRANDPA SAYS:

"Come on...give it a try!"

Here's the skinny....a nice family blog.

Post some pictures, write an essay, maybe

updates....anything! 

The password is:  (See your most recent email) *(taken off for

security reasons. 

 

I know, I know...it's brilliant, isn't it!

Log in to the URL above, then sign-in with

the password and post away!!!