The Long and Winding Road

We went to Mesa this weekend. I felt it was important to let the kids spend some time with their dad and great grandma since the recent death of their Grandpa Carter.

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Our trip was so eventful it will take 3 posts to share it!

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About 40 miles from our home in the pines is Salt River Canyon, part of the transition from pines to desert floor.

In the picture above, toward the top left, you can see the winding 2-lane road to the Salt River at the bottom of the canyon.

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The road is narrow and curves in and out along the folds of the canyon walls. There are many switchbacks and hairpin turns right next to sheer drops. It's not for those prone to motion sickness, but the view is spectacular.
When I first came to Arizona in March 1980, I missed the ocean, the greenery, the rolling hills, the mild summers of Southern California. It was hard to love the harsh brown flatness and extreme heat of the desert.

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Over the years, though, I learned to appreciate the stark beauty around me. Salt River Canyon exemplifies this beauty, almost like a mini-Grand Canyon.

Near the bottom we passed an 18-wheeler lying on its side at the edge of the road. The trucker had taken those tight turns too fast and flipped his truck over.

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The long black rectangle on the left is the bottom of the semi facing the road.

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It's not unusual. We often pass trucks lying on their sides or roofs along this stretch. Sometimes they even go over the edge.

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When we drove up the other side of the canyon, we stopped at a pull-out to take these pictures.

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Sarah, Jacob, and Dylan walked down a slope to the cliff edge to take pictures while I waited at the top. I got this picture of them as they walked back up to resume our drive.
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After traveling another 40 miles, we come to the town of Globe-Miami, an old copper mining town. Lots of people made big money working those mines over the past 100 years.
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The mines still operate, but not as heavily as in the boom days. The signs of mining are all around as you drive through town. I find it both ugly and fascinating.

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There's a feeling of history as you pass old factories and tall smokestacks. The slime-green pools and mountainous piles of tailings--soil with all the nutrients leached out, where nothing grows--show how harmful old mining methods were.

We stopped at McDonalds for lunch in Globe. Not our favorite place, but a Teacher Appreciation coupon got me a free salad.

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We continued along historic old highway 60, passing over old stone arch bridges and driving through a hill in our favorite short tunnel, to arrive at the small town of Superior sprawling at the foot of the mountains we'd just crossed.

Once we drove over Gonzales Pass, we were on the edge of the Valley, down from 7200 feet to the desert floor at sea level.

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The Phoenix metropolitan area, including Mesa, is known as The Valley of the Sun, or just The Valley for short.

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Having traveled the 170 miles from our home, we arrived at Great Grandma Carter's house about 2pm and the kids unloaded their luggage to spend the weekend there. (More on that in the next post.)

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I headed over to the Hilton just a few miles away. Thank goodness for priceline.com. I got the room for just $38.00.

I love staying in hotels. I know people who hate them, but I adore the almost sinfully pampered feeling of using sheets I don't have to launder and toilets I don't have to scrub.

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At home I feel guilty when I relax and take time for me. There's always so much work to be done. In a hotel, it's already done, so there's no guilt when I do something for myself.

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I do miss my kids while there, although as you'll see they do join me for part of the stay. But I'm learning to enjoy having quiet time to myself. I usually read or sketch and enjoy sleeping late.

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On this trip I stayed up until 3am completing a sketch I've been working on for 2 months. I actually started drawing again in February. Who knows, maybe I'll illustrate my own novel!

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And so we arrived safely in Mesa on Saturday. In the next installment I will share some of the fun family activities that went on over the weekend, some of them quite unexpected.

I'm the Baby, Gotta Love Me!

On May 1, 1963, the last of the 6 Butler siblings was born. After our brother Jeff was born, the doctor told Mom it was dangerous for her to have more children. She'd been through 8 pregnancies in 8 years and her body was worn out.

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But Mom was stubborn, and she knew there was one more child meant to join our family. Exactly 18 months to the day after Jeff's birth, Darryl William was born.

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Today he is 46.

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Here he is at about 6 weeks old, June 1963, with his older brothers and sisters.

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Left to right: Karla (age 3), LeRoy (4), Mary (8), and Jeff (19 months).
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Half of us were born on the first of the month: I was born on Sept. 1st, Jeff was born on Nov. 1st, and Darryl was born on May 1st. This is back when births were not done by induced labor or planned c-sections. What are the odds?
Darryl always jokes that as the last of five living children there are hardly any baby pictures of him, but I didn't have trouble finding plenty.

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However, it is true that there isn't much in the way of professional photos. With money in short supply, Mom got creative and took a series of close-ups herself, like this one that I thought turned out very well.

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Darryl was about 2 months old here, July 1963.

Darryl is a family legend for being quite the bruiser. When he was 6 months old he weighed 30 lbs!

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This picture was taken in Nov 1963, when he was 6 months old, so you can see he was a chubby-cheeked chunk.

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According to my baby book, I was 29 lbs at 7 months, so I wasn't far behind him.

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Mom said she was too nervous to breast-feed, so we were given a homemade formula of evaporated milk and Caro syrup. Mmmm, nutritious!

My parents have home movies of Darryl pushing a red wagon around the front yard with LeRoy, Karla, and Jeff inside--when Darryl was barely one year old!

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This was in Grandpa and Grandma Haley's yard when Darryl was 13 months old, June 1964.

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How many of us are old enough to remember cloth diapers, diaper pins, and plastic pants? Grandpa called Darryl "Droopy Drawers."

And when we'd come to visit, Grandpa would yell to Grandma, "Here comes the wrecking crew!"

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In this picture, Darryl and Karla are checking out Mom's freshly baked banana nut bread in November 1964, when Darryl was 18 months old. Karla was 4.
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I suspect the nut bread was for Thanksgiving, which we usually enjoyed with relatives.

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Did you know that Darryl means "little darling"? I haven't always thought that name fit well!
Oops! Well, I had to throw in at least one embarrassing picture!

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It's April 1965, just before Darryl turned 2, and he's had a little accident in his training pants. 3-year-old Jeff seems to be thinking, "Geez, I'm glad that's not me!"

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Speaking of accidents, it's amazing Darryl survived childhood. When he was barely old enough to walk, he disappeared one day. Mom was frantic until the police found him on the center divider of Cedar Ave, a very busy street in Fresno. Our springer spaniel, Freckles, was at his side.

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Here he is at age 3 with our pooch, Belle.

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Another time Darryl was riding his tricycle down the middle of our road and was hit by a car. The woman driving the car screeched to a halt barely in time. Her bumper just grazed his knuckles on the handlebars. I remember her carrying Darryl to our house (he was an armful!), crying and shaking. She was more upset than Darryl was!

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I could go on and on: bike crashes, car chases, narrow escapes. He could curl your hair with his tales. He is a walking miracle.
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Again, I have to include a shot of "The Boys." They were always together.

Darryl, age 5, is lying on the floor. Sitting at left is Jeff, age 7, and in the center is LeRoy, age 9. Though he's the youngest, Darryl turned out to be the tallest of the guys.

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Darryl is the most affectionate of my brothers, and he has a wild sense of humor. No one laughs louder at his jokes than he does! You can't help but crack up. I tell him he should do stand-up comedy.
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This is Darryl on his 7th birthday in 1970. Don't let that angelic smile fool you. He was the baby and he knew how to use it to his advantage! He admits openly to how spoiled he was.

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Darryl actually had a stroke 2 years ago when he was only 43, but he has made major changes to his lifestyle since then. He eats better, works out, and has lost 57 lbs. Our whole family is so proud! Somehow Darryl is just larger than life, and I can't imagine the world without him.

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Happy birthday, baby bro! I'll be thinking of you and looking forward to seeing you in July when we come to Missouri. Yep, we gotta love you, and we do!

Prom 2009

Another Junior/Senior Prom has come and gone. The Junior class did a great job of planning and executing an amazing event and everyone enjoyed a magical evening.

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The tickets for Prom were quite imaginative as well as practical! It was issued in the form of a sparkling keychain shaped like a theatre ticket. Way too cool!

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Here are Jacob and his date, Nicole, a beautiful Native American. She's in Jacob's culinary arts class and they've become good friends.

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They went to dinner at a Mexican restaurant, Los Corrales, before heading over to Prom at 9:00.

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This year's Prom was held at the Hon-Dah resort on the nearby White Mountain Apache reservation. Hon-Dah means "Welcome."

This picture didn't come out so well, but the professional photographer hasn't posted the pictures on his site yet, so mine will have to do.

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After arrival, the kids walked upstairs to this landing to pose by the Prom 2009 props. Then they proceeded down the stairs on this side to the red carpet leading them into the resort.
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The theme for this year's Prom was "Unmask the Night." The students were encouraged to make and wear fancy, old-fashioned masks like those once worn at the masqued balls of old. Some creative teens painted sparkling curlecues at the corners of their eyes. I wish I'd thought of that!
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Here are Jacob and Nicole at the bottom of the stair. They made it down unscathed, unlike one poor girl who was the evening's only casualty.

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This poor girl posed for her picture not long after Jacob and Nicole passed through. She was wearing a mask over her glasses and she had on high-heeled strapless sandals, a bad combination! She caught her heel in the "2009" prop and fell head-first down the stairs. It was awful.

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I supported her head while others disentangled her and we got her back on her feet. She was shaken but said she was okay and seemed to have fun after that, but I bet she was sore and bruised the next morning.
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Here, Jacob and Nicole walk the red carpet to the ballroom. She's smiling at her mom and brother, who were also taking pictures. They live about a mile from the resort and came to capture the grand entrance!

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This was my first chance to meet Nicole's family. Great people!

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I used to chaperone Prom when my kids were little, but then I stopped for many years. It's a whole different perspective when your own children attend!

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Everyone looked so beautiful and grown up in their lovely formal wear. It made me wish I'd attended my own Prom so long ago.

The DJ had quite an amazing set-up. Behind his station was a huge wall studded with random sparkling lights. It was like looking into the blackness of space sprinkled with twinkling stars. Above that wall were various colored lights that scanned the crowd to the beat of each song.

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The music was much too loud for comfortable conversation, of course, but the kids loved it and danced the night away.

I got a shot of Jacob and Nicole dancing soon after we arrived, before the crowds got so thick that I'd be unable to find them.

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You can see that the ladies were the first on the dance floor. By 10pm, though, the floor was packed wall-to-wall with hundreds of kids. The DJ was really good, inviting participation by the dancers. There was lots of energy out there!
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As for me, I wore the beaded gown Sarah wore to Prom last year and received lots of compliments. All of the white design is actually little white pearls, and the black is filled in with tiny glittering black beads. It's quite a heavy dress and the beads rubbed the insides of my arms raw by midnight, but it was sure fun to dress up and feel glamorous for one night!

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It was a great evening for both students and staff. The kids were excited and having a great time, but they were also on their best behavior, as if they'd all suddenly become mature adults. I just love to watch them being young and having fun.

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It's one of the perks of being a high school teacher!

Dimples and Curls

Today is my sister's birthday. Born April 26, 1960, Karla is 49 today.

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Karla is the fourth of 6 children, born after me, Gerald, and LeRoy, making her a "middle child." Like most middle children she's good with people, likes to keep the peace and make people laugh, and has a lot of patience. It's a good thing, because she and Brian have 10 children! (6 still live at home.)

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She lives in Mesa, AZ, where she helps operate their family roofing business, Custom Shingle and Shake. She also babysits the occasional child and totally dotes on her 4 grandchildren (so far).

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This is Karla at about 5 months old, held by our maternal grandmother, Alta Fern Haley. Karla was named for Grandma Haley: Karla Fern Butler.

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Karla was the kind of beautiful baby everyone cooed over adoringly. She was born with thick golden curls, curling dark lashes, and deep dimples. And not just in her cheeks, mind you, but also the coveted Butler dimples in the backs of her shoulders.

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If you've been following this blog very long, you already know I was a bald, fat, uncurly blonde-lashed, completely dimple-less baby.

Hold on there! I have more hair now, but I'm still roly-poly, completely dimple-less, and need an eyelash curler/mascara to make my lashes visible! Life is so unfair...

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Here's Karla on her 1st birthday, surrounded by several of our cousins.

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One of Karla's distinctions is that she is the only one of our parents' six children that Mom actually named. Our mother was apparently quite unimaginative when it came to coming up with ideas for names.

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When Mom couldn't come up with my name, Dad suggested naming me for his old girlfriend, Mary Frances Renning. (?!?!) Mom tacked on her middle name and I became Mary Jane.

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Dad chose Gerald Lynn's name (Lynn was Dad's oldest brother, who died of a congenital heart defect when he was 21). Mom was given LeRoy Thomas's name in a dream. Jefferey Alan was named after a TV show, The Files of Jefferey Jones, and actor Alan Ladd. And Darryl William, well, Mom was sure he was going to be a girl and was torn between naming him Kathleen or Sherrilyn. She had no boy name, so our Grandma Butler said she'd always liked the name Darryl. Mom added the middle name of her father, our grandpa Loyd William Haley.

The picture above is a favorite. Karla was 21 months old at Bass Lake, July 1961. I tease her that she developed her womanly figure at a very young age!

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LeRoy and I had a sweet deal, being the only daughter and son until Karla came along. But we weren't bitter. I swear we never tried to do away with her and bury the evidence!

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Karla was convinced that if she couldn't see you, then you couldn't see her. She just magically vanished from view!

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This is my proof that she occasionally did things she knew she shouldn't. So if she gives you her usual line about what an angelic child she was, hmmm. Just ask her why she was hiding in the corner in her underwear!

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We celebrated Karla's 3rd birthday a month early, along with LeRoy's actual 4th birthday in March 1963.

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At the time, Mom was pregnant with our final sibling and she was just a month away from her due date. She wanted to have all the birthdays taken care of and out of the way before she went into labor.

June 1964: Karla broke her arm when she was 4. I'll have to have her remind me how it happened. Either she was pushed off the T-bar laundry-line pole by LeRoy, or he was getting revenge for when she pushed him off the pole. I can't quite recall.

As a teenager almost 6 years older than Karla, I had little time for my tag-along sister, so she was stuck with all boys, who liked to make her laugh till she wet her pants or hide under her bed and giggle when she changed clothes. I'm amazed she doesn't have Post-Traumatic Stress!

As for Karla, she always tried to mother her rowdy brothers. July 1971, left to right: Karla (age 11), LeRoy (12), Jeff (9), and Darryl (8).

And here she is on her 9th birthday, April 1969.

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We've come a long way, little sister, from the days when you were the messy half of the bedroom and the annoyance who followed me everywhere, to today when you're my best friend and keeper of all my secrets.

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I hope your birthday is amazing. Enjoy it--just one more year until you join LeRoy and me in the Old Geezers Club! Love you!

Ghosts of Prom Past

It's that time of year again! Tomorrow night is Prom, so expect pictures of the big event sometime next week.
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I've chaperoned Prom several times, but last year was my first as a chaperone and Mom of attendees. I thought I'd share pictures from last year's Prom to set the proper mood.

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It all starts with the asking. Jacob's friend Bryce asked Sarah by filling our house with balloons, some of which contained small papers with words on them. She had to pop the balloons, find the papers, and assemble them: "Sarah will you go to prom?"

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Sarah answered with a piece of gum and the message "Yes, I chews to go to Prom with you!"

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Jacob agonized over how to ask his date, long-time friend Becca. We spent ages in WalMart trying to get ideas. We ended up with a Beauty and the Beast theme, including a crown, a light-up wand, a pink-and-blue ribbon-bound scroll, and a champagne glass full of pink and blue M&Ms.

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Becca responded with a bag of chocolate-covered nuts and a glittery note that proclaimed "I'd be nuts not to go to Prom with you!"

What mother doesn't love to see her son in his first tux? He was so dashing. I asked for his best GQ pose!

The cost for Jacob's tux was gasp-worthy. In fact, he opted to wear his suit to tomorrow's Prom and save $150+!

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We worried about finding a decent dress for Sarah here in our little rural area, but we were blessed. Our friend Gwen had seen this beautiful, perfectly-beaded black gown in a nearby thrift shop. It was an exact fit and it cost only $20! Sarah found dressy sandals for $20 and her friend Tahna did her hair, so she spent the rest of her budget on having her nails done.

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Who would ever have thought it would be cheaper to dress up your daughter than your son for Prom?

We were joined at our house by Sarah's good friend Kristin, who opted to go stag, and then we headed over to pick up Jacob's date Becca. We took the traditional pre-prom photos at her house.

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Left-to-right: Bryce, Sarah, Kristin, Becca, and Jacob. What a gorgeous group!
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The kids entered the prom on a red carpet, complete with a slew of paparrazzi flashing pictures.

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The venue was unusual, with Prom taking place at our local theater. Dancing and Prom portraits were in the lobby, with free sodas and popcorn. The businesses located in the theater plaza were also open, with free games at the arcade and free food in the deli and ice cream shop. A DJ provided music for the dance, but several live bands played outside in the plaza.

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At midnight they showed the horror/slasher flick Prom Night. A grisly end to a great night!
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Jacob and Bryce were both sophomores last year. Since the Junior-Senior Prom is for--you guessed it--juniors and seniors, they had to ask upper-classmen to be their dates so they could attend. Luckily, Sarah was a senior and Becca a junior last year.

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This year Sarah is a college freshman, of course, but Jacob is a high school junior and headed to his second Prom with his friend (and date) Nicole tomorrow. And I will be there to chaperone, armed with my trusty camera to capture every possible memory.

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Stay tuned . . .

Passing On

I received word a few hours ago that my children's paternal grandfather passed away last night. My former father-in-law, Timothy Lyle Carter, was just 61.

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He hadn't been well for a long time. He weathered bouts with esophageal cancer, prostate cancer, strokes, and heart attack. On top of that, he was a heavy smoker and was obese most of his life, but each time he got knocked down he got back up again.
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When I married into the family, Tim and his second wife Mary (Mark's step-mom) lived in Iowa and I'd only met them once.

This picture was taken on July 2, 1995, just 5 weeks before Mary passed away from heart and lung diseases. Thank goodness we'd decided to visit them in Iowa before her death.

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Mary was 74 and Tim was 47, a 27-year difference. So no one thought it was a big deal when Mark married a woman merely 14 years older than himself (that's me)!

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Tim came out to visit us in Arizona twice, when Sarah was an infant and again when Jacob was a baby. Mark was Tim's only child, and Tim was so proud of his grandchildren.

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Here he is with Sarah in October 1991, a few weeks before her 2nd birthday.

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Like his son, Tim was a quiet man, but he had an offbeat sense of humor and a ton of patience. I think there were many times he wasn't sure what to make of me and my often strong opinions about family and children. He preferred a laid-back approach to life.
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This is Tim with Jacob (Jacob Timothy, after his grandpa and his dad, Mark Timothy), also in October 1991. Jacob was 3 months old and we had spent an afternoon picnicking here at Woodland Lake.

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A couple of years after Mary's death, Tim retired from John Deere, sold his house in Davenport, Iowa, and moved to Arizona. He bought the house right next door to his mom's house in Mesa. They've been taking care of each other ever since.

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Tim's mom, Helen (my kids' great grandmother) isn't sure what she'll do now. She recently turned 82. You aren't supposed to have to bury your children.

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It was nice to have Tim living here in Arizona. Not only did we know that someone was looking after Helen, but my children were finally able to get to know their Grandpa Carter because he was just a 3-hour drive away!

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He wasn't the kind of grandpa to get on the floor and romp with the kids (that was Helen's domain!), but he was so patient and always had time for them. They know he loved them and was proud of them in his quiet way.

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Here he is feeding Dylan a bottle when Dylan was 4 months old. He was very attentive to his grandchildren's needs.

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This 4-generation picture shows Helen, Tim, Mark, and Sarah and Jacob in October 1991. I wish I'd thought to do another after Dylan was born.

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There will be no funeral. Poor Helen is laid up with a broken ankle, but as soon as she can she'll fly to Iowa with Tim's body, where he'll be laid to rest beside his wife Mary. He picked out his headstone 12 years ago, when she died. There will be a simple graveside service.

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Helen told me Mark cried when the call came. I cried, too, for their grief. I'm grateful to know death is only a temporary separation. Families are forever.