Is it Slough or Slough?

Over money matters the farmer and his wife FOUGHT,

They OUGHT to give THOUGHT to what they BOUGHT!

A HOUSE on a SLOUGH, and oh, what they’ve been THROUGH

Floods can be ROUGH when you live on a SLOUGH.

If they WOULD stop and think, “ENOUGH is ENOUGH!”

They COULD SLOUGH off the SLOUGH even THOUGH it WOULD be TOUGH.

Things started to go SOUTH when their cow got a COUGH

And then refused to open his MOUTH at the TROUGH.

The farmer knew the cow needed nourishment THOUGH

Or this cow would not bring him in some DOUGH.

I don’t mean the DOUGH that is made with FLOUR,

But money----oh dear, has my poem gone SOUR?

And Is SLOUGH a verb or is it a NOUN?

Perhaps YOU’RE confused on how it SHOULD SOUND.

Would I be a LOUT to make YOU figure it OUT?

Get it right and I’ll give YOU a SHOUT!

YOU are smart, WITHOUT a DOUBT,

And when YOU figure it OUT YOU will earn some CLOUT.

But what of the bird who sits on the BOUGH?

Can I work him into this poem someHOW?

I wrote of the farmer's COW, but what of his HORSE?

Or would that take this poem LOW and off COURSE?

I’ve been working on it since this morning at FOUR,

And I’m not sure who I’m writing it FOR.

But soon I must be OUT the DOOR,

So I SHOULD finish this NOW, if not BEFORE.

But wait, back to SLOUGH, and I do mean SLOUGH,

The word that’s pronounced just like SLEW,

Which, of course, is the past tense of SLAY,

And that’s a word that sounds like SLEIGH.

But what of that farmer who lives on the SLOUGH?

Have I convinced you to care what he goes THROUGH?

Or is your tongue twisted and your eyes bugged OUT

From reading words whose pronunciation is in DOUBT?

Relax, your interest in my poem you need not FEIGN,

Truth is, I’ve noticed it starting to WANE.

I’m ending this poem, putting you out of your PAIN

No SLOUGH or SLOUGH for YOU---never AGAIN!

The END  ---   YOUR FRIEND,

Firstelle (can you tell?)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Granddaughter's First Visit to Port Orchard

When my daughter flew in from California for our little family reunion, she brought her daughter, my only granddaughter, our Princess. This was her first trip to Port Orchard. She will be six months old in a few days, and she is one of those babies you always wanted but were afraid to ask for. She delighted the whole family, and she charmed the many friends who came by to visit while our three children were in town. Both Elletu and j came by on a Sunday filled with many visitors. I was able to catch a photo of Elletu holding our precious sweetheart. Elletu has a knack for handling babies. After all, her 11th grandchild is on the way. Along with my fourth being on the way, we will soon have 19 BVGOO's. I'm pushing for a few more in the future, but I'm not naming names.

Elletu already knows she will be having another granddaughter. That will make eight granddaughters and three grandsons for her, and from what I understand, that's it, no more. The other three of us, we have our hopes and our dreams, and most of all, our prayers. We won't find out for a few months the sex of our grandchild due February 21. A girl would be nice, two of each. In my brain, I am always looking for patterns. We have them with the BVG's:

Cool                              Two boys
 j                                    Two girls
Elletu                            Two girls and one boy
Firstelle                        Two boys and one girl

Now, for the grandchildren--is there a pattern?

Cool                              One granddaughter
j                                     One granddaughter, two grandsons
Elletu                             Eight granddaughters, three grandsons
Firstelle                         One granddaughter, two grandsons

Looks to me like Cool will have a grandson, as will I. Time will tell if my prediction in correct. It would be interesting if she and I had the last two BVGOO's and they were both boys, because she and I had the last BVGO's and they were both boys.

In the meantime, it was fun having a baby around the house for a week, but now she is back home. I put away the little pink things, including the pink, green and white blanket a friend of mine knitted for my daughter when she was a baby, a baby right here in Port Orchard, 37 years ago this month.

Time flies when you're having fun.

BVGOO's Get Together Too!

These three beautiful children are some of the Bethel Valley Girl Offsprings' Offspring, of which there are 17 and two more on the way. I do hope they are proud of their heritage. They will never know the Piggy Park the way their parents did, but they had fun in my backyard a week ago.

Cool and her husband picked up their granddaughter in Arizona on the way to their family reunion in New Mexico a month or two ago, and j's oldest grandson was here from Texas for a week with his grandparents recently. Will we ever be able to get all 17 (soon to be 19) together for a big family picture? Probably not, but if we could, for sure we would gather at the Piggy Park, piggies or not. Clayton Playground, that's what it's called.

We'll never show up on Ancestry.com, so I think it is going to be up to me to print out the Bethel Valley Girl Family Tree. New project, coming right up.

This picture looks like it might have been taken at a BVGOO Spa Day! You know what we always say----"Train your BVGOO's in the way they should go......." and of course that means learning to deal with cucumbers over their eyes. Sure, when they're young they don't mind having their faces shown on their old grandmothers' blog, But what if this blog suddenly went bacterial? Okay, fine, I mean viral? Then they might start valuing their privacy.

Another BVGO Reunion

They met when she was 17 months old. He was an older guy, 19 months old. They played well at that first BVG picnic, meeting for the first time. Little did their moms dream then that these two would go on to be such great pals in preschool, so funny together that the teacher would ask if they could be observed for a day and written about for her project at school. She was finishing up her degree in early childhood education, and she was dazzled by the creativity of this little pair of munchkins.

He loved pretending to be Luke Skywalker, and she was always his Princess Leia. Sometimes he would deviate and be Johnny Cash, or Michael Jackson. They had a thing about going to the Purple Planet. And how funny is that, because one day she got into the purple paint that was spread on the merry-go-round at the Piggy Park. He pushed her round and round on that merry-go-round, and neither one of them noticed the purple paint getting all over her. It is one of those memories their moms will never forget. There was no bathroom at the Piggy Park in those days. Thank goodness--no, thank God--for the open church nearby, although her mom would have preferred that there hadn't been a women's meeting going on at the time.

She is Elletu's daughter, and he is my son. Because Elletu and family moved away from Bethel Valley Lane, these two ended up not going to the same elementary school or junior high, but they did see each other when she came to my house for piano lessons. They ended up in high school together, but it is such a large school and their paths just didn't cross all that much. I got a picture of the two of them together at graduation, in their caps and gowns, and then we moved to Hawaii.

They didn't see each other again, but many years later they did connect via Facebook. And then our recent family reunion happened in the past few weeks. He came from North Carolina, and I invited her and her two daughters to come along with Elletu to see my grown children and two of my grandchildren. After 16 years apart, this special BVGO reunion materialized, and it was awesome. It was as if they never skipped a beat. Their humor is intact. They discovered they both do voices and accents at will. Along with my younger son, they went out to play pool. And they stood back to back to see who was taller between the two of them, harkening back to a dark day in their relationship. The teacher decided to measure the height of each of the kids, and she posted the results up on the board. She was the tallest in the class, he was the second tallest. This apparently bruised his male ego. When they came back to my house after preschool that day, he was so upset, he hauled off and kicked the sofa really hard and yelled at her, "It was just this much!" holding up his thumb and index finger to indicate about an inch. Well guess what? He's still about an inch taller, 30 years later!!!! But you know, "It's just this much!"      

Sagging Happens

A Cool contribution..........

When we met back in our 30's, we wouldn't have seen the humor in this.

Now that we are in our 60's, we really don't think this is funny at all.

The truth hurts.

A Different Kind of Spa Day: Elletu's Story

Observe the beautiful nature scene on the monitor in the picture above, then imagine the peace-inducing music accompanying this tranquil scene. For Elletu, this was her reality on a recent Spa Day quite unlike a BVG Spa Day. It was on Thursday, August 7, and I think I will call this Harrison Spa (aka Harrison Hospital in Silverdale). I was along for the ride. Actually, I was her ride. Actually, at the Harrison Spa they thought I might be her, um, 'partner,' or 'Significant Other.' Of course I am a significant other person in her life. After all, I'm a BVG!

We chuckle, but it is a sign of the times. Last time I signed in as her 'family' when she had a similar medical procedure done, they accepted I was her sister or her friend. This time, they had to ask, "Is she your partner? Your Significant Other?" That was a first, and we'll never forget it. Thank goodness Elletu held back her humor the rest of that day and didn't call me "Sweetie" or "Dear" whenever the nurses were around, especially when the nurse asked if she wanted me to come in the bathroom with her. We are close, but not that close.

Well, it's sad but true, the doctor was afraid Elletu might have cancer. There, I said it: Cancer. We were all concerned. We prayed, We prayed again. And again and again and again. For me, her SD (Significant Driver), I had another role besides picking her up at 5 A.M. to make it to the 'spa' by 5:45 A.M. My job was to keep her relaxed as long as I possibly could. For me, the obvious solution was to make her think we were on our way to a spa. Harrison Spa. It has a nice ring to it.

Boy, I'm sure glad I didn't have to put on one of those 'spa gowns' because they don't go all the way around the back. I'm such a good friend, I didn't peek when she had to change her clothes and then get in bed. When they started asking her such personal questions, I just put my hands over my ears and sang out loud, "La di da di, TMI, TMI, la di da da, TMI, TMI."

When I sensed she was getting nervous, I would ask her what spa treatments she was going to sign up for. We both opted for the hot rocks treatment. It was a no brainer that we wanted massages. I suggested she get her toenails painted. I recommended bright red for a nice change.

She asked for a cocktail, they gave her an IV. (Some of you will be asking, "Why did they give her a 4?" I like your sense of humor.) I had to leave her and go to the waiting room. It was a spa, right? They had hot coffee waiting for me. The chairs were comfy. They could have provided better magazines to read. I used my phone to text friends that Elletu was 'under the knife.' I asked for prayers. I prayed. She just had to be cancer free!

I was just drifting off---after having only two or three hours of sleep the night before---when her doctor came looking for me post-surgery. "She came through well," she said, "and everything looks good. I took some polyps, didn't get some others, but I'm confident there is no cancer," (What she supposed that day was later confirmed by a biopsy.)

And here she is, post-surgery-----I mean, post-spa-procedure. Lacking cucumber slices, she improvised.

We are thankful again for answered prayers, for the sparing of our dear Sister. In my own sphere, my sister-in-law recently passed away from stomach cancer, and my stepsister is undergoing chemotherapy for brain cancer.

Thank You, dear God, for giving Elletu a different outcome.

Children of a Lesser Fall

Note:  Read "Legends of My Falls," "One Flew Over the Basement Stairs," "Snow White Falling on Cedar," "Down, Down and Away," "The Accidental Tourist," "The Latte Show," "Up the Downed Suitcase," "Hawaii K-O," "Things That Go Bump in the Night," "Pop Goes the Damsel," "Not-So-Secret Garden," "Slip Slidin Away," "Brokeknee Mountain" and "California Texting" before reading this post.

I once blogged about my 'other blog,' a weekly family thing I started seven years ago this month when my husband and I moved from Hawaii to Virginia. Apparently I never blogged in my family blog about this BVG blog. My three grown children were just here for a fantastic week of family fun (more on that later), and on Sunday a lot of friends were in and out catching up on old times. Elletu and j were both here. (Cool would have been, but she never got my text as she was out working in her yard all day.) Elletu's daughter and her two girls came too. Elletu's daughter and my son go way back. She was 17 months old at our first BVG picnic, he was 20 months old. They did preschool together, but then Elletu's family left Bethel Valley Lane and moved out to Manchester, putting Elletu's children in a different school. Still, I got a picture of the two of them at their high school graduation in 1998, and then we moved away to Hawaii. Sunday was their first time to see each other in 16 years, and yet it seemed like they never skipped a beat. In the course of their conversation, my son found out about this blog. He was surprised I have never clued him and his siblings in about it. In retrospect, that does seem silly. After all, they are BVGO's! (Note to my children, should they read this blog post: You are a Bethel Valley Girl Offspring, or, a BVGO. Be proud of that heritage!)

So Sunday we sat there discussing this blog with Elletu, and specifically my recent series, Legends of My Falls. I told my son I wrote about my Top Twelve Falls, and he right away mentioned one that didn't even make my list! In fact, to be honest, I hadn't even thought of it, but once he mentioned it, the thoughts of all of that blood came back to me. And the fact that I became shark bait.

The place was Goat Island, on Oahu's North Shore. It was a family favorite but something that was only accessible a certain part of the year when the current and waves were not too formidable. This is an island you wade out to, but I use the word 'wade' loosely. Mostly you jump with sideways swells that plop you down, leaving you unstable. Part of the time you swim, and the other part of the time you actually do wade. If you make it out to Goat Island, it's a real treat because it is part bird sanctuary, part pristine white sand beach where you often see no one else.

To get to Goat Island you are walking on jagged coral, so you must wear some sort of rubber things on your feet. I wore aqua socks. You can't carry much with you, if anything at all, especially towels because you keep getting inundated with water. The water is powerful, and sometimes it knocks you off your feet. That's what happened to me, I got knocked over by a powerful wave, and in the process I got nasty jagged cuts on my legs from the coral. The blood was profuse, and all we could do was wash it off with the salt water. We certainly didn't have Now that my son has brought the memory back to me, I can say that it was a rather dramatic, bloody fall, and it did hurt a lot, and I was a mess. I think that's the only time my older son has seen me fall. My daughter was there for the Boston Steam Party (see The Accidental Tourist).

But in the grand scheme of things---mainly, my falls---the Goat Island fall was actually a lesser one. Would I like to do it again? Not BLOODY likely.