Make sure May 24, 2014 is circled on your skywatching calendars

Set your alarm clocks on May 23 and 24.........If any of you are interested (obsessed like myself?) the newly discovered shower from comet 209P/LINEAR is coming soon. In a few days SOON. NASA and their computer models predict that, this year, we may encounter the debris of every one of this comet’s last two dozen passes all at once on the morning of May 24,  with no bright moon in the sky hindering it!  The debris that will strike our upper atmosphere on Saturday will not be from this year's pass. Instead, it is calculated that the comet shed all this debris as long ago as the late 1700s and early 1800s. What is truly exciting about this particular comet is that the dust it left behind in previous years will be impacting the atmosphere of the Earth. Remember - early on the morning of Saturday, May 24th (and very late Friday night on the West Coast). It probably won't last more than an hour or two but its timing  favors ALL of North America. The peak will be between 2:30 and 3:30 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time, about midnight Pacific Daylight Time, 1 a.m. Mountain Daylight Time, or 2 a.m. Central Daylight Time. Hopefully that gives most of you the approximate time if you want to try to view this event. 

If predictions are right, the Northern United States are ideally situated to see 100 to 400 meteors per hour (which is called a meteor outburst), and possibly many more, 1000 per hour (a meteor storm such as I witnessed in November 1966). Front row seats! NASA predicts the best time to watch the meteor shower is Saturday, May 24, from midnight to dawn.  The Monterey Institute for Research in Astronomy, is placing the likelihood closer to 80 per hour. Comets are notoriously unpredictable but whoever is correct, I don't care, I will be out there looking low in the north beneath the North Star. This will be an historic event - seeing a brand new meteor shower. The radiant of the meteor shower is just south of Polaris (the ‘North Star’) in the constellation of Ursa Minor — the "Little Bear". To simplify where to look - Ursa Minor is the Little Dipper and the star at the end of the Little Dipper handle is Polaris, the North Star. 

Grab a reclining lawn chair, a blanket and enjoy the show

When I was 14 years old  the November 1966 Leonid meteor storm covered our western Washington sky. Not meteor showers - a meteor STORM. This was only 4 years after the 1962 Seattle World's Fair. The World's Fair's theme had been our future in space, our space travel, etc.  My Dad and I would often go out and watch the stars, sharing his telescope -  discussing strange phenomena, UFOs, and other offbeat 'probable' topics.  This night my Dad had worked the nightshift, got home around 11:30 p.m. As usual he would read the newspaper when he got home and then go to bed. He woke me up about 1 or 2 in the morning and literally dragged me outside onto the front lawn. What we saw was amazing. There were shooting stars everywhere we looked, coming from every direction. Non stop meteors. Tens of thousands. Fireballs also. They filled the sky! They were literally raining down on us. I swear there was not one area of the sky that was dark - it was completely filled with falling meteors. It had been determined (later) that those meteors were falling at 40-50 per second (144,000 per hour)! My Dad and I (and our dog Shep) spent about 20 minutes out there totally mesmerized by the experience (It was a short duration meteor storm). At 14 years old I thought the world was coming to an end. We both would instinctively shield our eyes, even though we had our heads looking straight up  It was an experience I will never forget. It was frightening yet I was equally awestruck.    My Dad had his arm around me and my dog Shep was lying next to me. Shep was very nervous. We thought he was expecting thunder-like noises because to him it probably looked like lightening strikes, without the noise of course. He was deathly afraid of thunder.  All 3 of weathered the cold Washington State air lying on the wet grass to witness this once in a lifetime event. With all of the excitement my Dad never even grabbed a blanket before heading out. Neither of us would abandon this spectacular event to run inside to get one. Not me, for sure - I wasn't convinced that one of those falling meteors wasn't going to obliterate me if I moved. Nope, I just stayed right there. Seriously I thought something bad was going to be the finale - like me, my Dad and our dog dissipating - into nothing. Hey, I was 14. We were so lucky to have witnessed this - it was a "clear" western Washington sky which in itself was a miracle. How often does that happen? Not often in Washington State, that's for sure.

The 66' Leonids - Something like this but even more strong

It is very rare for a person to actually witness a meteor storm because they certainly are not common. My friend Noreen witnessed the 1946 Draconids storm which produced several thousand meteors within an hour. I witnessed the 1966 Leonid storm which was even more stronger. Together we plan on witnessing this 'possible' new meteor storm together - in my open meadow unobstructed back yard. All are welcome to join us. If it doesn't turn out to be a meteor 'storm', it surely will still be an awesome meteor shower - because it is NEW and never seen before. Worth setting an alarm clock for, right? If predictions are wrong, which I don't think they will be - well, whatever, I will just add that to my ever growing list of disappointments. 

Not ending this blog with my normal Obama discontent - this time is Poo-Poo Putin's turn.  Putin's actions violates international law and international treaties Russia has signed before. Here is what I see. It’s a game of godless pinko commie bastard (aka: Russian) roulette with a guy who is just f***ing unstable and is never going to play by the rules. He's a thug. He's a  Bolshevik, Leninist, Leninite, Maoist, Marxist, Stalinist all rolled into one.  Soon we will see the Cossak hats, the red star, CCCP and the hammer and sickle everywhere we look.  Take this sonofabitch out!

P.S. If any of you witness this meteor event let me know what you saw!

Growing up in Issaquah - Part IV

I don’t have Facebook, Instagram or Google + so I thought you all should know I had  a Starbucks Latte this morning. I also saw a rainbow. Now if the Sun, Fog and Rain in San Francisco were on Facebook, this is probably what you would see:

Sun: "It's my moment to shine"

Fog: "Yeah, for another 2 hours. Good luck with that." 

Rain: "I'm coming for you bitches"

 So here is what I have learned this week. According to the seven citations I got for trespassing and peeping, “neighborhood watch” is not what I thought it was. Who knew? WTH? I mean seriously let's talk about privacy. And let's include Facebook (because I never get tired of slamming Facebook).  I’ve never met so many people more worried about their “privacy” than ALL of the people on Facebook that share EVERYTHING about themselves. Some of you have more posts about your private life in a day than I have thoughts. When my dog sniffs another dog’s butt I can only assume that it’s their equivalent to checking a friend’s facebook page. 

Oh whoopsy, I just embarrassed my dog Skye-Pilot! Stop looking at her!

I should say ” I should not be telling you this,” at the beginning of every blog so people will listen to what I’m saying.

My childhood years were really simple times. I didn't know anyone who had been divorced, except my dad's brother. My Dad brewed his own beer and made root beer for us kids. Sometimes he made me  toys in his workshop, later which he turned into a sauna.   I still remember him making tin can (Campbell's Soup) telephones for my friend, Marbet and I. He painted them pink and scribbled 'Finland' on mine and 'Iceland' on hers. Not only could we call one another but hey, it was long distance.  I was in the house on the hill above her house. It took a lot of kite string, but we were kids and we thought that was the best thing in the world. One day I could hear her yelling from her driveway - "Answer your phone!" Well, apparently I didn't hear my tin can phone ringing. I should have told my Dad right then and there that he would never have a career in the telephone business because he forgot to add the 'ringer' to my can telephone but I didn't want to hurt his feelings.  Our houses were close enough that we could actually just yell at one another, but the tin can telephones - well, they were magical. The only real problem we had was stringing the kite string high enough into my Maple tree to make it high enough to cross over the road between us. That is how her little brother came in handy (climb higher....HIGHER).

I learned to swim in the Issaquah Creek. I don't ever recall that creek being anything but hella cold. Our summers were short so I suppose that is normal when the sun is never in the sky long enough to warm the creek waters. 

Issaquah Creek

I still love Mountain Bars (made in Tacoma (hint hint hint to my friend Savana) and cannot find them anywhere here in California., the original vanilla Mountain Bar not the cherry or the peanut butter, the original. Named after Mt. Rainier.  

I grew up on  Nehi Soda, NuGrape, Honey Dew (made in the Seattle area), some  brand of Sarsparilla, Orange Crush (still my favorite)  RC, Dr. Pepper, Shasta soda (another northwest brand), YooHoo chocolate (still drink it today)  Seven-up, Pepsi, Coca-Cola, and Schweppes Ginger Ale . My son still laughs at me when I say "I want a Pop".  I don't want a soda or a soft drink. It's called "Pop" where I come from. Soda is POP, that's all there is to it. Just like I pronounce WaRshington with an R - it's just a Washingtonian thing. 

When (and I should correct that to say "if") we went on vacation, we camped. Sometimes to places unknown to me but more often than not  we went to Whidbey Island, 

Whidbey Island Double Bluff Beach where you can see Mt. Rainier, Mt. Baker, the Cascades, the Olympic Mountain Range and sometimes if it is clear you can even see downtown Seattle

or to Green River Gorge.  That is where I saw my first baby bear cub. Yes, I am referring to "that" Green River.  The river where  "The Green River Killer" dumped all those bodies of his 50+ victims many years later.

Green River Gorge

We camped in the thick stands of beautiful Douglas Fir, in old canvas tents. If I  recall correctly I think one was a  military tent because it was soooo huge. But, I WAS a kid and everything was huge back then. There was always that scent of mildew inside the tents. No doubt just from the fact we did in fact live in Washington where wetness and mildew are a fact of life. Our forests were lush with Oregon Grape, stinging nettles, strange huge mushrooms, beautiful green lacey ferns, huge banana slugs, crystal clear rivers and creeks and lots of moss. Beautiful.  Often times, my Dad would go camping or fishing with his friends and he would take me with him. I would be the only child there.  I was about 6 or 7.  That was my age when my Dad started calling me  'spark plug',  meaning I ignited his life.  All his friends either called me 'Sis" or "Ed's Shadow". Nobody called me Vickie back then.   I don't remember too much about the fishing part of any of our camping trips, maybe because I found fish to be gross and for some reason they scared me.  I remember hiking with my Dad to look for  bears, I remember seeing his laughing friends in the middle of the water with their fishing poles in one hand and a bottle of Rainier beer in the other. I ate peanut butter sandwiches, drank hot cocoa, had my Dad's beer pancakes and chili with those little oyster crackers for dinner. On our return trips home,  I was always given strict instructions to watch my language and not tell any tales. It was an early lesson in the motto "what you see here, stays here."   I am sure the stories that were spun as all those adult beverages made the rounds around our campfire were the first things I had forgotten because I didn't understand most of them anyway.   I know those men's campfire conversations were no doubt  peppered with C***sucker, sonofabitch, and other choice scatalogical references that I was to never repeat. And true to my father, I never repeated them. Until later in life that is.

Actually there were advantages of growing up in little Issaquah. I grew up my whole life with the same people,  attended the same schools and knew without a doubt who I could trust. Do you have those friends where you can’t even remember how you became friends but you were just suddenly friends? For me I guess it was because we all grew up together. There was only one elementary school in our town. There was only one Jr. High. There was only one High School. This was great, because you got to go to school with everyone from kindergarten to senior year no matter what part of the town you lived in. They all knew you by face and name. Or reputation. I always tried to behave but there were usually too many other options. My friends - they know about the time that I peed my pants in second grade. They even know the when, where, and who I lost my virginity to! When I was a kid I would be tromping through the woods alone, climbing trees, catching frogs and talking to the hobo's on the railroad tracks on my way to school.  When I was a kid, my social network was called “outside”. Never afraid of anyone or anything. Well, maybe frightened once.  For sure. Yes,  I was truly frightened once while in the woods. My friend Debbie and I were hiking up to Round Lake and Lake Tradition. Back then you didn't call any trek out into the woods hiking. We were just walking, even though it was all up hill. We were headed to the one spot that overlooked the entire town and  provided a beautiful view of Lake Sammamish, I-90, the gravel pits, etc. 

We were teen-agers, talking about this or that - who knows, probably about boys, plans to sneak out after dark - typical teen-age stuff. Something caught our eye to the right of us. Big. Yellow. Long tail. It would glance at us then look forward, all the while just casually walking. We didn't take our eyes off of it. It saw us. We saw it. Of all the things our parents had taught us - well, they went down the drain as if those words were never spoken. "Never run from a mountain lion or bear. It will chase you." That was always stressed to us because we were always in the woods. We lived in the woods, after all. Debbie and I both ran - ran like hell. We ran like Paarvo Nurmi, the infamous "Flying Finn". 

We were by all means literally 'flying'. Neither one of us were brave enough to look back. We didn't know if it was following us or not. Our only thoughts were to get off that mountain, run down that narrow trail to the railroad tressel - to the safety of our homes.

We flew down that trail, neither of us saying one word to one another. How could we - we were running so fast we probably couldn't speak if we had wanted to. At the bottom of the trail I ran south and she ran northwest. Now that I think about it - when we started running after seeing the mountain lion, we probably startled him (or her) and it probably ran in the opposite direction. I should have listened to my Dad - and not ran. It's amazing what panic will do - it just takes over. What I know about mountain lions today - well, I can only say that Debbie and I are lucky to not have been "lunch". After that day we were always leary about going to Round Lake. It was too remote of a place to be. We continued though, but in larger groups of friends. Safety in numbers. Today, one of King County's favorite hiking trails is where you would take off from where the High School is at now and go up along side the hill up to the power line and then follow that over to Round Lake and then from there over to Lake Tradition and then back down the other power line and down the hill past the old railroad trestle and then back down to town. Yes, the same exact route Debbie and I took when we saw the Mountain Lion. The old railroad trestle is gone. What a shame. It was fun crossing it as kids. Damn scary - but fun. Dangerous and stupid, but fun.

That's it for Part IV, I have decided to leave my past behind me - for now. So if I owe you money, I'm sorry but I've moved on and so should you. Sarcasm: confusing  people and pissing off people everywhere. I have an excuse - I’m high as a kite! Let me rephrase that: I’m stuck in a tree. I have been writing this blog in my Fort Bear tree house. Come on guys, don't take me so literal. But seriously I wish to congratulate my friend Laura and how amazingly she has trained her dogs to do whatever she wants. Check this out:

Good job Laura! Send this fella over - I have some work that needs to be done!

As I depart this blog I wish to say -

Dear President Obama: Not that it is ANY of your damn business but I just wish to clarify that I don`t own any assault weapons. All mine are defensive. I’m pretty busy today, so if you, President Obama could  just go ahead and offend yourself for me that would be great. Thanks! And by the way it is factually known that 5 out of 6 people enjoy Russian Roulette- have you thought about trying it? Maybe you and Poo-Poo Putin can do it together? 

(And if you could hear a conversation between Putin and Obama right now:

Obama to Putin:

"Vlad, I'm going to say this one more time. Stop it! This is the 21st century. We can't redraw territorial lines just because you use military force. Now stop it now or else.... I'll draw another red line. I mean it this time.")

Part III, a little "Cold War secrecy", a little bit about godless commie bastards and just because I speak my mind because it hurts too much to bite my tongue

So soon you ask? Didn't we just read Part II? Hey, it's raining and I have nothing else to do today. So don’t go getting your panties in a bunch (The nicer ones are sold individually anyway).

I bet all of you blog readers think you want to bring me back to reality huh? You’re assuming I’ve been there before?
(Cuz Harju - I tried, I really tried to keep this short. So for you - damn it just grab a cup of coffee and say "Oh, ok I will sit through this for my wonderful cuz in California, because I know she gets carried away". Kiitos in advance!)

Before I continue my blog my big questions for the day are- 

1. Why didn't the person who invented braille just put the dots in shape of the actual letters? I’ll never understand that. Anybody got an answer to that? ANYBODY? 

2.  Why is it that wearing no underwear is called “going commando”? It seems to me it would not be useful in any actual combat situation. 

3. Isn't it amazing how the simple potato gives us potato chips, french fries, and vodka? Get your shit together, every other vegetable. Seriously.

4. Don't you just hate it when Doctors ask questions like . . . “Are you sexually active?” Umm, I suppose that depends on what they mean by “active”. There are a lot of “active” volcanoes that haven’t gone off in over 50 years.

5. How do we expect kids today to listen to their parents when Pinocchio lies all the time, Tarzan runs around half naked, Cinderella comes home at midnight, Alladin is a thief, Batman drives at crazy speeds in excess of 200 mph, Sleeping Beauty never gets out of bed, and Snow White lives with 7 guys? 

My advice for the day is- 

It’s pointless to ask your dogs which one of them farted but if you don’t ask they might think it was you.

Also, I just recently discovered my oven can clean itself! Naturally I will be searching my entire house looking for similar buttons. You should do the same. 

What day is today? Oh yes, this is important. To all of you who received a book from me as a Christmas present, they are due back at the library today.

Getting back to Part III of this particular blog story - I should have mentioned in the very beginning that nine months before I was born, I went to a party with my Dad Ed and left with my Mom Winnie. Oh wait - that isn't what I wanted to say. I wanted to say that I bet all my childhood invisible friends are probably doctors and lawyers now. Where did I go wrong you ask? I still have plans to be someone. I really do. I’m going to be the first person to land on the sun! I know what you all are thinking. That's freak'n crazy. That is why I will be going at night. See, I am not the crazy ass dittsy Finn blond that you all think I am huh? I accept your apologies, thank you. 

It just so happens that Part III of my bog pertains to Russia. I do not like what is happening in Russia right now. No one's ruling out the possibility of additional Russian military aggression with what is happening right now. Do we not see the gravity of the situation? Putin just bit off a piece of Crimea, does anyone think he's going to stop there? Hell no, he's a Communist. We all know how Communists work. Is this President Putin in a vodka-and-caviar induced rage? Putin's declaration of Russia's right to invade its neighbors scares the hell out of me. And this is why. When I was age 10, we were in the "Cold War secrecy"  living under the the fear (and threat) of Soviet attack.  Anti-aircraft missiles sat "at the ready" on our Cougar Mountain. We were in fact a last line of defense against a Soviet air attack, one of 13 Nike installations in and around Puget Sound. Those Nike Ajax missiles readied for the bombers that would come screaming across the Bering Strait from the Soviet Union. Not many people know this fact about our little town. The Cougar Mountain site was deactivated in 1964 and it became the Cougar Mountain Regional Wildland Park, a forested 3,100-acre preserve. All of my childhood it was stressed about the evils of the Soviet Union. My father built a bomb shelter in our basement and had it fully stocked. Only very close neighbors and relatives knew about it. My father had very good reason to fear the Soviet Union. His parents immigrated from their homeland of Finland to escape the horrors of being controlled by Russia. I will not go into what the Russians did to my Finnish relatives but suffice to say I still have not nor will I ever forgive them. My family history is written in blood, at the hands of the Soviet Union. They cruelly invaded their tiny neighbor Finland in 1939. Unless you were of Finnish heritage you would probably have no memory whatsoever of the power and ambition that once drove the Soviet Union (and apparently does now). It was a terrible era of war and suffering. The Russians were nothing more than a rampaging horde of godless commie bastards. I am so proud of how a tiny nation of dedicated Finnish riflemen defended their country against one of the largest armies the world has ever known. 

There are so many Russians, and our country so small, where will we find room to bury them all?” —Anonymous Finnish soldier

Soviet troops assaulted positions manned by a little more than 21,000 Finns.The Soviets were disorganized and totally unprepared, barely trained and with no preparation for the rugged terrain of Finland.  No skis, no snow camouflage, and without any proper winter clothing. It was exceptionally cold. Temperatures dropped below -40° in some places. Frostbite was a constant threat, and the corpses of soldiers killed in battle froze solid, often in eerie poses.

This January 31, 1940 photo shows a frozen dead Russian soldier, his face, hands and clothing covered in snow.

The resulting slaughter of Russian troops brought no tears from Moscow, they simply did not care how many they lost. The entire world  learned how little the Soviets valued human life, even their own countrymen. Thankfully for the Finns most of their small arms shared the same ammunition as their Soviet opponents. The more guns and rifles they captured, the more guns and ammunition they had to use. The Finns gained their supplies the hard way—they took them off the dead bodies of their enemies.  They had superior fieldcraft and fighting spirit, or what every Finn calls Sisu. Their cross-country skiing skills and marksmanship were undeniable.  Finnish marksmanship became legendary. One Finn sniper, Simo Häyhä, dressed in white winter camouflage only carried with him a day’s worth of supplies and ammunition.  He actually kept snow in his mouth so his breath wouldn't give up his position. He used iron sights which presented the smallest possible target for the enemy, (commie snipers he smoked out were given away by a glint of light reflecting off the lenses of their scopes.). While hiding out in the snow, he would then take out any Russian stupid enough to wander into his kill-zone (long-range silent death to anyone with a red star on his hat!). He attributed his deadly sniping skills to “practice”. Throughout the war, this awesome Finn raked in a total of 505 confirmed sniper kills (in some sources he is credited with 542).  On top of this, he also mowed down two hundred men with his Suomi 9mm submachine gun, bringing his total kill count to over 700 men in under 100 days, earning him the nickname “The White Death”. He was regarded as the most hardcore sniper there ever was scoring enough kills to make f***ing RoboCop and the Terminator hide their heads in shame. Nobody in history has ever been credited with more confirmed kills than Simo Häyhä.  He used his Finnish patience, his knowledge of the Finnish forests, his cunning and impeccable rifle marksmanship to defend his country, his home, his people and his freedom from the communist totalitarian oppression of the Soviet Union.  Simo had been a member of the Finnish organization "suojeluskunta" in his hometown. This was the Finnish equivalent of the National Guard or Militia, or the equivalent to the minutemen of the American Revolution. "High five" to any Militia group! While the Soviet forces did not accomplish their communistic objective of the total conquest of Finland, they did however gain substantial territory along Lake Ladoga, and territory in Northern Finland. The Finns, however, retained their sovereignty and enhanced their international reputation.

Simo Häyhä,  an unstoppable killing machine to which the likes of which the world has never known before or since. A true Hero and a true BadAss

A tiny nation of extremely talented riflemen had held off the communist Red giant. The Finns suffered greatly to preserve their freedom. For those of you unfamiliar with Finland's Winter War here are some facts: The Soviet army which invaded Finland in late 1939, massed approximately 1,500,000 troops. By the time peace was declared in March of 1940, Russia had managed to steal 22,000 square miles of Finnish territory. Although the Russians had gained this Finnish territory, it came at a very high price. They had lost one million men in the short conflict.  A Russian General later said. "We gained 22,000 square miles of territory. Just enough land to bury our dead".  Yes, an extraordinarily high price. Those 1,000,000 men were killed by Finn soldiers or by the harsh Finnish winter. The Soviets also lost 1000 aircraft and 2,300 tanks. But for their commie bastard efforts they did manage to steal away the homes and property of some 420,000 Finn's, at a price of 40 Russian soldiers killed for every Finnish soldier killed. 25,000 Finns died and another 55,000 were wounded as a result of this conflict. I think this message is clear. Large aggressors such as those godless commie bastards can win a war, but they generally lose the battle. This war cost them dearly. Hitler, after seeing how "small" Finland stood up to the big bad Red Russian Bear, decided to invade the Soviet Union as a result of the inadequate Soviet Army. I mean why not? Finland opened up an extra-large can of whoop-ass and gave the Commies the ball-sack kicking they deserved. If Finland could do it, then Hitler thought he could do it too. But.........there was a twist of fate, death on a major scale was then visited upon Russia for her transgressions, and likewise on Germany for hers. I salute Finland for deciding that their freedom was worth any cost. With very little help from the outside world, this proud nation kept its sovereignty through its own will and determination. I am proud to be a Finn!

Finnish ski troops and their reindeer. They certainly knew how to fight a war in bitter temperatures

My Dad who was a vodka drinker would not even allow any Russian vodka in the house.
Getting back to the "Cold War secrecy" it is at this age that I almost got to see our President Kennedy - he was to attend the World's Fair. But.....President Kennedy, we were all told  had a bad cold and would not make his planned appearance at the 1962 Seattle World's Fair. I had been to the World's Fair more times than I can think - it was the "happening' thing for months.

My friends and I would take the bus to Seattle and one of the parents would pick us up later that evening. I had already seen Elvis Presley at the Fair, he was the biggest attraction at the World’s Fair (besides the Seattle Space Needle of course) and he had been there for ten days filming It Happened At the World’s Fair. 

Disappointed in the movie - in a scene showing the inside of the restaurant the windows can clearly be seen rotating, while the outside scenery remained unchanged. In the actual Space Needle restaurant the effect would have been exactly the opposite.  The entire restaurant rotated, the outside view, and not the windows, would have moved . Way to screw things up MGM studio. 

But to see our President - that would have been totally exciting. Of course at my age I wasn't all that familiar with him, but I sure thought he was handsome and I loved his Massachusetts accent. Our President had no cold, felt ill or otherwise. It was all a line of bullshit. This excuse of course coincided with the discovery of Soviet missiles in Cuba which in turn pushed the United States and the Soviet Union (both of which were nuclear-armed superpowers) to the edge of "OH SHIT!" His faked illness provided an excuse for Kennedy to skip the spotlight of closing the World's Fair and address this very real crisis. Getting back to our anti-aircraft missiles on Cougar Mountain - the actual number of close calls remains unknown to civilians living in the area. There were many, many times when sites were alert to potential threats that the we, the public, never knew about. I'm glad I never knew about these threats. I suppose the only time we would have been in danger is if war had been declared. Thank you President Kennedy for doing your job. It's too bad President Obama cannot even come close to doing his job - or even know how to do his job.

And that is the end of Part III but lastly I want to draw attention to those Danes in Denmark! What will they think of next? A Danish travel company worried about the decline of births in Denmark is trying to encourage the Danes to have more sex. so they placed an ad. It's called the  "Do it for Denmark" campaign. The ad is as follows:
"Book your holiday with our ovulation discount. Get it on. And prove you conceived a child to win a three-year supply of baby stuff and a child friendly holiday," it says. But if you've already had children or can't have children, don't despair, the company says. "Just remember all the fun is in the participation."
All I can say about this is that the Danes should be seeing this (you know - having more sex) as doing their patriotic duty! I wish to thank those wonderfully crazy Danes for putting a smile on my face - that ad is priceless. I kid you not. It's real. As real as the Soviets being a rampaging horde of godless commie bastards.
Oh I guess I wasn't done after all. I just want you all to know in order to start my deer breeding business here in Northern California I’m going to need at least 5,000 bucks.

Ending on my usual bitch:  OBAMA
I don't care whether you are a Democrat, a Republican, a Conservative or a liberal, be aware of the attitude and character of this sitting President. From his book Audacity of Hope:
"I will stand with the Muslims should the political winds shift in an ugly direction."

Part II

Before I start with part 2 of this blog of growing up in a little podunk town - I just want to say:

I think watching the Olympics Hockey teams would have been hella more enjoyable if I pretended they were fighting over the world’s biggest and last Oreo!   Well, with that being said, now I want to say that I strongly oppose deporting Justin Bieber for his crimes. This is America, after all. We have the death penalty! Oh, and the local Sheriff's Department came to my gate this morning claiming that my dog Skye had chased someone on a bike. I told them to go to hell because my dog doesn't even have a bike. Idiots.Oh, now I am just ranting, aren't I? 

Getting back to Issaquah - being raised in Issaquah was both exasperating and amazing. No malls, one movie theatre, and no nightlife worth mentioning.  Often times I  felt  like there was  nothing to do. It was always the "small town ****."  Regardless I never said that I was "issapointed" that there was "issanothingtodo" and that I  "issararely" got to go anywhere. The great thing about living in a small town is even if you didn't know what you were doing someone else always did. Everyone knew everything about everyone. Unless you got scholarships, chances are you weren't ever going to go to college.  As it was I didn't go to college until I was 32 and was considered a 'California transplant'.  I was too busy raising two kids. College was out of the question.

Neither me or my friends were destitute growing up, our parents always had enough money for clothes, food, and a trip to the Issaquah Theatre or a comic book once in a while but at any given moment, every single one of our families were about one paycheck from poverty. Times were pretty tough for our parents back then but they always managed. As a family we maybe went out for dinner once or twice a year. In all truthfulness my Dad and I snuck out to dinner quite often because my mom was a horrible cook. I think we both saw it as "survival". My parents always seemed to have the money for any of us kid's sports adventures  though, and now I wonder what they actually had to give up in order for us kids to enjoy Football, Track and Gymnastics.  We bought our clothes from J.C. Penney or the Sears & Roebuck catalog store. I mostly got to wear my brother's hand me downs, specifically John's clothes. No wonder I turned out to be a tom-boy, running around in his worn out jeans and torn sweatshirts. Odd, it never mattered to me. At all.  I had to wear  dresses to school but as soon as I got home I changed into my outdoor clothes, which were jeans and sweatshirts. If anyone looks at any of my grade school class photographs I was the one who had bruises up and down her legs and arms - pretty evident in those photos that I played hard and had fun. Couldn't call me no sissy girlie- girl. Thank Goodness.

 Wow, 1962-1963 -  Seattle World's Fair era, Assassination of President Kennedy. Both good memories and bad memories. Oh wait a minute, can't see my bruises in this photo - better try another one.

This is my fondest memory of my big brother Dick - he was always the 'jokester' but even though I was often the butt of his playful jokes, I still adored him. I think the only reason people hold onto memories so tight is because memories are the only things that don’t change when everybody else does.

I remember my brother Dick worked on my little fat "just like my Daddy mechanic fingers", trying to get them into just the perfect position. Keep in mind we were 10 years apart. He was my hero, and I listened to his every word.  I didn't know this game he was teaching me.  I knew other hand games like  the church and the steeple,  but not this particular game. "No Sis, not like that," he would say, "Do it like this. Pull these fingers down and use your thumb to hold this one down. Your thumb Sis, don't you know which one is your thumb? Then you do this. Try it." Over and over, I tried. I almost got it. He was persistent that I learned. Then, finally, I got it. Still, I didn't see what was so fun about this game. "Can I go play now?," I asked my brother Dick. "Hold your horses Sis. Remember just do it to surprise Mom and Dad tonight. Show 'em that and say 'here's to you." Keep practicing Sis, you don't want to mess this up".  I swear even today I can hear Dick's laugh.  That night (after my brother's clue) while the 5 of us were at the dinner table, I turned to my Mom, said "here's to you," and gave her the finger. It's one of my first memories, which means I had to be about five, which would make my brother Dick 15.  Most of my memories of my oldest brother stand out because he was bigger, louder, and had the most funny yet obnoxious humor than anyone else in our family. My Mother was about to beat the bejesus outta me. Typically she had a quarter-inch fuse when it came to me but this event was no doubt a 1/16 inch fuse.  My Dad intervened and my brother confessed his sin of teaching me 'the finger'. My Mom was dragging me out of that kitchen chair, by my long blonde hair, no less. My Dad grabbed me away from her, and my brother's laughter turned into an endless monologue of "It's not her fault. It's my fault. Leave Sis alone".  It was a memorable day.  So memorable I will never forget how frightened I was.  Memorable also because my other brother (3 years older than myself, 7 years younger than my oldest brother) never said a word, he just continued eating. Growing up with two brothers who were complete opposites was, well, hard. My brother Dick and I would laugh at that memory for many years to come. Damn, I miss him. My life will never be the same without him - he was amazing. 

To be continued.
I have a list of things to do today. I have to go to town and get blank business cards and hand them out and call them my “none of your business” cards then I am going into the Dollar Store and ask for a price check because that just never gets old. After that I want to go to a Park and sit down next to a stranger on a park bench, place an envelope beside him and whisper “It has to look like an accident.” and then walk away. The older I get, the more I come to realize that I just don’t care what the hell anyone thinks - so I just wanna have FUN!
Until next time.........................

P.S. Thanks for your visit Bridget - always enjoy having my second daughter come to see me!

Deja poo. The feeling that you’ve heard this shit before?

First off, I would like to say:

 I speak four languages:

english, profanity, sarcasm, and  real shit. 

I say it like it is. No apologies. Please refer to number 4 in my list of New Year's Resolutions.

Dear life. When I asked if 2014 could get worse than 2013 it was a rhetorical question not a challenge.  I should say, “Just kidding“ but I'm actually dead serious. I started out 2014 with a  serious right hand injury.  Not a good way to begin a new year if you are right handed. I would like to thank my friends who were there to help me because I am ever so grateful. Since January 1st I've become pretty proficient at being left-handed, but I'll be glad when I have full use of my dominant hand again. It is amazing how just the simple everyday things become a true challenge without the use of your dominant hand. Thank you Marcia, Laura, Noreen and Shana! 

Ok, enough of the 'niceness' - on to my overdue blog. Soooo, I begin my first blog of 2014 with saying that life begins just on the other side of not giving a crap.

My New Year's Resolutions: (and I might add, going good so far)

1. I will confine my exercise to jumping to conclusions, stretching the truth and pushing my luck.

2. Since I can’t undo my mistakes, I have decided to make bigger and more elaborate mistakes to overshadow them with.

3. I will rub soap in my eyes every morning to prepare for the pain of the day. The pain of what is happening to our country.

4. I would like to publicly apologize to anyone I have NOT offended…I will get to you shortly.

5. I will remember, when I am feeling sad - that I don’t look like I did in grade school. That will perk me up and make me smile.

6. I am going to solve global warming! It will be simple. I will set all my weather apps to Celsius.

My first questions for the year 2014:

If a dentist makes his money off people with unhealthy teeth, why should I trust a toothpaste that 4 out of 5 dentists recommend? Seriously, why?

Shouldn't some people use a glue stick instead of chap stick?

Does anyone agree with me that before Wal-Mart existed, you would have to buy a ticket to see a bearded woman?

Science, where are we at with magic carpets? I have been waiting a very
L O N G time.
What if our entire universe is just in a tiny glass jar placed neatly on a shelf in an alien child’s room as a science project?


My thanks:

My Finnish cousins introduced me to Koskenkorva Salmiakki. Truly the spirit of Finland and a gift from the Finnish gods themselves
My thoughts don’t appear in bubbles over my head. That could be awkward.

My Admissions: 
I had excuses for everything when growing up.
Clark Elementary School- “He started it!”
Junior High- “It was a dare!”
High School- “I was drunk.”

Adulthood:-"I am no longer myself,  I would never be again. I am a forest cleared and subdivided. I am a city block washed empty by flood never to be refilled. I am Pompeii, buried, running for breath. What the hell is happening?"

As a child, my letters to Santa started something like this:
Dear Santa,
My brother did it.

When I die I want to be buried with a couple random animal bones from a reindeer or antelope or something just to screw with future archaeologists.

This last Christmas, I put mistletoe in my back pocket…so all the people I don’t like could kiss my A**

I never feel bad about not feeling bad about something I should feel bad about.

The Truth's out there:

This, my friends, was our life before we owned computers: 

Memory was something that you lost with age. An application was for employment. A program was a TV show. A cursor was a person who swore a lot. A keyboard was a piano. A web was a spider’s home, you know - that we always seemed to walk into. A virus was the flu. A CD was a bank account. A hard drive was a really long road trip. A mouse pad was where a mouse called home. And if you had a 3 1/2 inch floppy - you just hoped nobody found out.

"Some assembly required" is IKEA for "here is a pine tree, pocket knife and some nails."  IKEA founder Ingvar Kamprad was directly involved in the pro-Nazi New Swedish Movement. Why would anyone buy anything IKEA????

Doctor's say circumcision is painless. I say that is a total load of crap. My son was circumcised when he was born and he could not walk for nearly a year.

A dog wagging his tail to the right is happy, but a dog wagging to the left is stressed.

Never look back. If Cinderella went back to pick up her shoe, she wouldn't have become a princess.

Men like football because the priorities in football are also the biggest priorities in every man's life.... Scoring and Ball Security.


What bothers me:
I hate that saying "When one door closes another one opens". Just re-open the damn door. Because that’s how doors work. Really, that is how they work. On the other hand, If one door closes and another door opens, you’re probably in prison. Good luck with that.

It pisses me off that when Miley Cyrus gets naked and licks a hammer, it's considered "art and music".... but if I do it, I'm asked to leave Home Depot. That is just wrong.

I hate that phrase “kids will be kids” - I think it should be replaced with “Bad Parenting results in little jerks”

My Advice for the year 2014:
Be crazy.
Be stupid.
Be silly.
Be weird.
Be whatever.
Because life is too short to be anything but happy.

My thoughts on OBummer  (I mean Obama):
Remember when Obama said he'd be 'the most transparent President ever' ?????
Then his administration shuns the media and cries when reporters ask tough questions.
Remember when Obama ran on 'Hope and Change' ?????
And then he became entangled in scandal after scandal?
Remember when Republicans said he did not have any qualifications to be President????
And then he proved them right?

Our Country is going to hell.

Everything is going to be alright, maybe not today, but eventually.

Maybe.
Maybe my cousins in Finland will take me in, far far away from America. 
Away from Obama, the new and revised HITLER.

Until the next blog - you know - like, round the corner, and that blog will start with something like this:

I have a lot of subject matter out there that will forever remain unwritten because I am not exactly sure when the statute of limitations (criminal or social) will have truly expired. Is there a statute of limitations on the indiscretions of my youth and the embarrassment they may have caused my family? I am so glad I was young, wild and crazy before there were cell phones and evidence. Technology could have really caused me some trouble. You know - I'm from "back in the day" when you had to buy an entire shitty album just for the 2 decent songs. 

(Yes, cousin Harju, it will be the long one, but just for you I shall write it in installments....hahaha!)

P.S. Dear NSA, 
We’ll be best friends forever because you already know too much.
Sincerely, Me

It's been awhile -

Just my Confessions:

Don’t confuse my personality with my attitude. My personality is who I am. My attitude depends on who you are.

I will never outgrow Darigold chocolate milk. It's so hard to come by here in California. Come on Darigold, open up a plant here will ya?

I don’t have a bucket list, but my fucket list is a mile long.

As a woman - taking your bra off at the end of a long day is quite possibly one of best feelings ever.

I will respect any religion you practice as long as you never knock on my door to tell me about it.

My Complaints: 

Sometimes life can be so depressing - I sincerely thought  we’d have some futuristic Jetsons shit by now.

Republicans are red, Democrats are blue. Our government did shut down cause neither one gives a damn about you.

If you’re gonna flip out on your Facebook, don’t delete it all the next day. Some people, I am sure still want to share your meltdown with their friends. “Please, tell me more about the drama in your life via Facebook.”  said Nobody - ever.

Miley Cyrus was on the Disney Channel and had her clothes on when Bush was President. Thanks, Obama.

My Solutions:

Life should be more like Hockey. If somebody pisses you off, you beat the shit out of them, then sit in a penalty box for 5 minutes, then go about your business as usual. 

Having trouble sleeping? Only kids count sheep to fall asleep. Count your debts, your mistakes, your heartaches and then cry yourself to sleep like a grownup!!!

If I could trade places with anyone for a day it would have to be on the day I die because I wouldn’t want to be me when that happens. I know I've said this before but I'm going to say it again - I really hope that my last words in this world are: “I wonder what this does…”

You do not have to attend every argument you are invited to.

My Questions:

If those Amazon drones can really get to your house in 30 minutes then don't you think condoms are about to become their #1 selling item? But wait - won't it be a really awkward moment when your Amazon delivery drone just hovers there, waiting for a tip?

Does anyone else feel that you could substitute Miranda rights for wedding vows? Verbatim.

I can’t believe it’s been almost a year since the world ended in 2012. I don't see any changes, do you? Seriously, it's like the world never ended. 

That's it, a shorter than short blog. Prepare yourself for the next one (especially YOU-Finnish cousin in Florida) it's gonna be a long one. Specifically about growing up in a small town. Run now. Run, I tell ya!

For now I decided that I no longer want to be an adult…if you need me, I’ll be in my tree fort. 

Summer needs to SLOW the HELL down!

Some days I’m ready for hoodie weather! The weather is changing up too fast. The squirrels are throwing pine cones at me.

This will be my shortest blog ever. Hey! Stop applauding, I'm very sensitive. At even one penny, this blog would be overpriced. In fact, free is too expensive, because you'd still waste time by reading it. But this blog is my "green edition" as it was written using 100% recycled words.


My update:

I am still  losing socks in the laundry but I am  finding change. So logically speaking there has to be a sock fairy right? I already have 31 Finnish wizards living in the house, I really don't want any fairies setting up residence.

I am probably still on a government watch list. But I’m not worried, because government "watchers"  only work 13 minutes out of every hour. If that. No sweat.

Thursday's complaints:

Shouldn’t illegal immigrants have to pass a drug test to get a welfare check since the average American has to pass one to earn it for them?

If you want to cry use a tissue, not your Facebook status. Man up. Woman up. Grow some balls. Speaking of that - why the hell do people say "grow some balls"? That statement is so full of crap, it could pass for a toilet. Let's examine this, shall we? From a woman's point of view - factually,  balls are weak and pretty damn sensitive. They are so weak they have to hang out in pairs. If you wanna be tough, grow a vagina. Those things can take a pounding.


Thursday's wisdom:

Somewhere along the way, someone is going to tell you, 'There is no "I" in team.' What you should tell them is, 'Yeah, maybe not. But there is an "I" in independence, individuality and integrity."

What? No ending my blog on my usual joke? You are probably all asking "Oh, we're playing nice now? Shall we have tea first? Brew up a nice pot of kiss-my-ass?”
Ok, but this time I will let President Obama speak for himself. Giving credit where credit is due I am sure that every one will agree that - FOR ONCE -  he actually makes more sense than anything he has said in all these years as President ! See for yourself.

http://youtu.be/Zqj8E7412AM

Nudging aside reality a word at a time

You have deja moo?  The feeling you have heard this bull before? Admittedly, I should probably keep my mouth shut, but I don't. So here you go.

I have been very busy. I have moved from my cave - to a much better place. It was beginning to be too dark and I really missed my fresh air. The final straw was when my cave privacy had been invaded. I caught this person scaling my cave walls.

I won't have any part of that so decided it was best to move. This is my new place. It's a rather small house and gathering firewood is pure hell but I am adjusting. I do get thirsty sometimes. I only have access to water if it rains. No squirrels throwing pine cones at my head. No pine needles to rake up. So far, so good.

                           I have also purchased a little get away cottage also.

My Truth's:

I was  told that I over-analyze things. I need a couple of days to think about that before deciding if I should be offended.

Really? Seriously I just want to enlighten Dog Walkers. Technically, those dogs can walk on their own. What they can’t do is pick up their own poop. You’re just a poop collector.

                                                          
When I see my dog watching out the window, fascinated by something, I sit beside her and say, "Look, Simba, I mean Kesä, everything the light touches is our kingdom."

                                                           
                                               
Politeness has become so rare nowadays that some people mistake it for flirtation. Just the other day I went to shake someone's hand and he offered me his left hand. I knew he was right-handed, so I asked him why. His explanation? "If it's a woman, I introduce myself by shaking hands with my left hand. I don’t want her to meet her competition right away."  I walked away.

I never complain about the cost of Starbucks. Starbucks isn’t really that expensive when you consider what Victoria Secret charges per cup.

One day, I’m gonna make the onions cry. I don't know how, but I will. It is my promise to myself.

I know I should be concerned about the United States NSA phone tapping thing, but personally myself it’s just so nice to know that someone’s been listening to me. I mean - seriously. Now I am thinking that when the Verizon guy says “Can you hear me now?” the NSA is quietly answering “Yes we can.”

Starting tomorrow- whatever life throws at me- I’m gonna duck so it hits someone else.

What I find annoying:

“Who’s that?” “What are they doing?” “What’s happening?”   (Shut the hell up and watch the movie)

A ghost could be standing right behind me right now and I would never know.

Facebook.  Seriously, it is  basically just you having a conversation with yourself hoping that someone else will join in. Didn't your parents teach you to NOT write on Walls? Mine did. I used to get in trouble for writing on walls.

Millionaires! They are so stupid. If they don’t have a bookshelf that spins into a hidden room, trampoline floors and a  giant slide that goes from their bed to an olympic sized indoor pool they should give me their money because they obviously don't know what to do with it. And by the way - If there isn’t a Chinese millionaire that’s changed his name to Cha Ching then I don’t see the point of money.

If I hold the door open for you and you walk by without thanking me I am guaranteed at least one attempt at trying to trip you. Possibly two.

I don't trust hikers or joggers. They're the ones that always find dead bodies out in the woods.  I'm no detective. I'm just sayin'. Just seems suspicious to me. Be leary of people with running shoes or backpacks.

I think a  baby’s laughter is one of the most beautiful sounds a person  will ever hear. Unless it’s 4am. And you’re home alone. And you don’t have a baby. (Hmmmm....go back to number 2 of this list  of "what I find annoying" -  Coincidence or what?

I am going to bed before midnight. Who am I and what have I done with me?

My questions:

Cartoon pictures of the sun always depict it wearing sunglasses. What exactly is the sun protecting its eyes from? Does it apply sunscreen also?
                                                          
Wrestling is so obviously fake. Why would two men fight over a belt when neither of them are wearing pants to begin with?

Seriously, how many times do I have to say “excuse me” before “get the hell out of my way” becomes acceptable?

Not knowing the truth of this matter:  What if birds singing when they are flying is really them just screaming because they are afraid of heights? What if??????

                 
Is the divorce rate high among my socks? Do I own serial killer socks? Are they out seeking "sole" mates? Why are so many missing? I may have to contact the "Department of Missing Socks", their motto is "No sock left behind"                                                 



My solutions:

Throw lamps at people that need to lighten up. I go through a lot of lamps.

Eat tacos over another tortilla, so when stuff falls out -  YAY - extra taco. No work involved.

Dear  "Wanna be Gangsta",  If you pulled up your pants a little you could run from the cops faster. Really, that didn't occur to you?

If I were the President of the United States the first thing on my agenda would be to put Kansas City where it belongs - in Kansas. Why is it in Missouri? Is there a Missouri City in Kansas? No.

Confessions:

I love the night sky more than anything else in this world, its really the only place where chaos is so peaceful. I don't mind chaos. I just hate drama.

I’ll call my phone a “smart phone” the day I panic and yell, “Where’s my phone?!” and my Samsung answers, “I’m here! Over here! On the table!” Otherwise it is simply a cell phone.

Sometimes I find myself making the decision between being a good person or being a sarcastic bitch. I'm talented in both areas. But then again I am a Gemini - the twins.

I die a little when I see an old person sitting alone in a restaurant. It really saddens me.

I don't have a Facebook account, so I just carry around a police bull horn to announce what I'm doing at random times. So far I've got 3 followers - but I think 2 of them are cops, possibly even CIA because I won't shut my mouth about my displeasure (that's a kind word by the way) with Obama.

People who first meet me think I’m quiet. But people who have known me for a long time wish I was. I may appear quiet at first, but once I’m comfortable with you get ready for some crazy adventures.

Memories:

Never judge a book by its contents. In High School my High School yearbooks had pictures of students enjoying themselves on it. I did not enjoy myself at all. I think they brought in actors for those photos.

My parents used to think some of my friends were bad influences but honestly, I was usually the one coming up with the ideas. Some of those bad decisions were ultimately made using the same exact piece of resounding logic “Ah, screw it” that I use today. “Screw it” – seriously, it is my final thought before making most decisions.

Just for fun:

Go to a car dealership and ask the car salesman to lay in the trunk so you can "see how many bodies you can fit in that trunk"

Replace the can of air freshener in your office bathroom with an air horn. And wait...

Take your  DirecTV remote outside, change the neighbor's channel to purchase porn, and watch them scramble to stop it (sorry Marcia, couldn't help myself).

If I  live to be 100, I am going to make up a really fake reason to explain my longevity just to mess with people's heads. Something like  "I faithfully ate a pine cone each and every day. A Ponderosa pine cone. It has to be a Ponderosa pine cone."

My Eternal Thanks:

I would like to give a big shout-out to Mother Nature for not giving wings to snakes.

Oranges that come pre-sliced by nature. Thank you Mother Nature. How cool and convenient is that?

I’m so very thankful we don’t have to hunt for our own food anymore. I don’t even know where sandwiches live.

No you cannot  subscribe to my blog via RSS. You can follow me on Twitter, but I'm rarely there.  Or you can just check back often. Or do nothing. I love you no matter what. Thanks for being loyal readers!  Now I am off to the gym to do shoulder shrugs and diddly squats.

No, I did not forget to end my blog on Obama.  Instead of playing the same political games I suggest Obama plays Battleship or Monopoly instead. I mean - get a damn clue Mr. President. I want an avowed atheist in the White House. When time comes to push that button, I want whoever's making the decision to understand that once it's pushed, it's over. Finito. Gone. Can't take it back.  And to know they're not gonna have lunch with Jesus. There won't be deflowering 100 virgins on the great shag carpet of eternity, or reincarnation as a cow. I want that someone making that decision who believes life on this Earth isn't just a dress rehearsal for something better, but that it is the only shot we get. I will even provide Obama with the game so he can practice and learn from his mistakes - beforehand.

Do not fear, the America I loved still exists. Not in the White House. Not in the Supreme Court. Not in the Senate or the House of Representatives. Certainly not in the media. The America I love still exists - in my heart. I am deeply worried though. And I am disappointed. It was the moral duty of every United States voter to guarantee that Barack Hussein Obama was a one-term president.The people of America failed. Failed themselves. Sorry if I offend anyone with my Obama bashing.  I will never stop.
I will end my blog with this question -
Am I or am I not on a government watch list? Hell, I don't care. If I can't use my free speech to criticize my own government, then what the hell is the point of having it?
As Plato said - "Only the dead have seen the end of war."

Connecting Past with Present

Huomautus Susi:
Vickie käyttää paljon amerikan slangia. Ei käännä hyvin Google. Virpi ja Salla lukea Englanti? Joten Hannu ymmärtää?

Yes, I am still in my non-descript dark cave in my undisclosed forest in Finn-ville, Finn-fornia, Finn-merica.  

      For the first time ever I am enclosing a photo of my cave. Only Hannu and Simo know where it is......it's a hard climb to get to the entrance but think of how safe I am!

Reasons to read my blog:
I laugh at my own jokes so you don’t have to. Sometimes I think that things are best left unsaid but my brain to mouth filter has never worked right.  People are lucky they can’t hear what I’m thinking while I'm writing. Well, actually I don’t think as I write. I like to be just as surprised as everyone else by what comes out of my mouth.  I’m just like everyone else, after all,  I put my straight jacket on one buckle at a time.

April was a great month for me!

Hannu Susi and myself - 2nd cousins who grew up 5000+ miles and oceans apart met for the first time. Second cousins - that is grandchildren of your own grandparent's siblings. My cousin, Hannu, owns and lives on the very same property that my Grandmother Hilda lived on in Ikaalinen, Finland.  The very place she had resided until she married my Grandfather, August, who came from Kuru, Finland. She was born and raised there, walked the very same ground, swam in the very same lake. Unfortunately for me I never got to meet the Grandparents who are responsible for my "Finnishness" as Hilda died in 1934 and August died in 1947, before I was born. 

I will never forget how my father spoke of them as I was growing up. With such love and respect. He would smile that little Finnish smile of his when he spoke of them. He would often  say words in Finnish, in such a low whisper, that I knew in my heart he was expressing his love to them, or how much he missed them. Words that only they could hear. My father did not display emotions often. He was a pretty stoic man, as I am a pretty stoic woman at times. My father taught me by example very early on that showing anger, passion or emotion suggest you’re not in control. My father didn't often raise his voice. This by no means I am suggesting Finns to be gentle people. Gentle people don’t play ice hockey. Hard sport. He believed if you raised your voice, you would immediately lose authority and credibility.  If you lost respect you lost the argument. My Dad was not a big talker either.  He didn't bore you with bull shit talk.   When he did talk, I would pay attention because he would choose his words very carefully, and what he did say was incredibly loaded. He would mean absolutely every word he said. A different word here or there would be very significant. I was quick to learn to listen very carefully and try to pick up on any possible subtleties or nuances.   You need to pay attention. If they, the Finns, say someone is sick, they are probably dying.  In general I have found that Finns do not enter into conversation with strangers, their  words are chosen very  carefully and small talk is really considered suspect. "Sacred silence" has meaning, it really does. 

I love Hannu's last name. Susi. Switch those letters around and it spells Sisu also. Anyone who knows me knows what Sisu is. I think I refer to it often enough that my friends  googled the word just to find out what the hell it means. Here's a quick defintion:
Sisu is a Finnish term that combines inner strength, determination, perseverance in the face of adversity, and a strong work ethic. There is really no direct English translation, as it isn't in the English language. It is strictly a Finnish word, but the concept can be somewhat expressed as “being tough as nails”, “hard-nosed”, or "stubborn ass".  I particularly like "stubborn-ass" because I have heard friends, family, co-workers, and even bosses call me that all the time. That is giving me one of the best compliments you could possible give me - so kiitos for that.  Sisu is a necessary thing for the Finns. They live in a cold northern land, sliced by thousands of beautiful yet cold lakes, and long under threat of being overwhelmed, militarily, linguistically and otherwise, by more powerful (asshole) neighbors. From the Middle Ages until the 20th century, my grandparents homeland was occupied by Sweden and Russia. This is why my grandfather and his family left. They were not going to be "Russified".  "Swedes no more, Russians we will never be, Finns we will always be." 

 
The only problem I have ever had with my Finnish identity is that sometimes I cannot control my laughing. Finns laughing out loud isn't very common. I laugh out loud often. I can't help myself. I suppose it is the Irish/Welsh blood in me? 

Hannu is the grandson of my Grandmother's younger brother Arvid. "I'm coming to California and I want to meet you," he announced in an email. No need to ask me twice, we immediately set about making plans to meet. He  would be traveling along with two friends, Simo and Jaakko.  How cool is that? I thought. I have always had a long held desire to be able to make 'in-person' contact with my kin in Finland and it finally reached a point to "do something about it".  I was a little nervous about the language issue.  It turns out I was worried for no reason. Neither one of us had to speak the others language in order to communicate and enjoy ourselves.

I have had years and years of written contact with my 3rd cousin, Margit, but never have met anyone from Finland in person. (Well, besides one of my father's brother's who was  born in Finland ) The key player in this drama was  Margit Lumia, a gifted genealogist who helped me piece together my Järvinen and Muurasniemi ancestry, many years ago. This ultimately lead me to discover that I actually have more relatives in Finland then I do in the United States. I became hooked on genealogy - it’s like an addiction. I had became a “genealogical obsessive.”  People are fascinated with who they are, they want to know where they came from.  I had corresponded with another cousin, Kosti,  (1st cousin 1x removed)  who actually fought in Finland's Winter Wars (to get independence from Russia)  and even though he recently passed away  I will cherish his letters with all of my heart and will always regret never having met him in person. 

It was the first time I’ve met Hannu in real life, though we’ve chatted via email numerous times.  Being from Finland, he seemed pretty damn cool, as did his friend, Simo. Jaakko didn't come to my house, he was participating in a parachuting competition in Lodi.
Hannu  entered my heart immediately. I had one of those inexplicable moments where I felt I had known him always, forever.  Two cousins from different parts of the world but connected by a blood-line -  forming a new bond. I felt an immediate chemistry with Hannu,  there was no denying the blood in our gene-pool. He was my cousin, a  family member who flew across countries and oceans and then drove across the State of California  to reach my place in order to meet me. I am a  family member from that family tree that had branched itself out to plant the Järvinen orchard in a far-away land. His car trip to reach my place had been only a 3 hour drive, but think about it - his journey spanned several generations and traversed  countries and oceans.
He'd found a home in a foreign country, my home.  Cousins meeting for the first time, yet still bound together and both of us feeling deeply connected. More than we'd ever expected, this family connection carried us along, almost like a magic carpet ride, to a most wonderful experience and gave both of us the gift of new familial ties. Could this really  be happening? So surreal were the occurrences of this "cousins meeting for the first time"  that it still seems dream-like.

Simo and Hannu

Me and Hannu

When I first saw Hannu, I recognized him immediately from the family resemblance. It was amazing, it was extraordinary. He reminded me of one of my father's brothers when he was at Hannu's age. Hannu's wife, Virpi, remarked  that she could see a resemblance between Hannu and I when we would Skype together, Hannu and I sitting side by side. She said we had the same sense of humor. That was very evident when we attended a classic car show during his visit and we did the exact same thing and said the exact same thing at the exact same moment, and then we both looked at one another and laughed. You don't need to know the other person's language to communicate. We did just fine.
But if we did speak each others language, just imagine the stories we might well have had which would have  added  to our understanding of those now long-departed family members. I did not speak Finnish and Hannu did not speak English, yet we survived. We had the assistance of Google Translate and also the assistance of his wife and daughter translating through Skype (both women being so genuinely awesome) We also effectively used body language to the best of our abilities. 

We said our goodbyes - promising to stay in touch, issuing invitations to one another, and I felt sadness when Hannu and Simo drove away. And so there I was, walking back to my house in quiet reflection, looking at the vastness of my beautiful blue northern California cloudless sky, simply amazed at the beauty of where I live and the happiness this last weekend had brought me. Yet - longing to visit Finland. Longing to meet as many of my Finnish cousins as I can. Longing to return to my grandparents homeland, their birth homes.  I am not ashamed to admit I had a tear in my eye and that despite our language obstacles I did not want Hannu to leave for fear we may never meet again. A couple days visit was not long enough.
Almost immediately after Hannu and Simo left here, I began searching for good airfares to Finland for me to go visit and meet the rest of the family. One of the motivations for me going to Finland is for me to learn more about my heritage, to retrace my ancestor’s footsteps. Hopefully I will be able to make the trip. I don't know, finances may be the biggest obstacle. The only obstacle actually.  It would be a very long journey - flight-wise. I'm not the best flyer in the world, but I do admit I have gotten better over the past few years with a lot of trips to Washington State. I certainly feel a lot more comfortable about going now that I have met Hannu and  his wife and daughter. I could finally meet Margit, her son Ville and her parents. Meet ALL of my family. There would be so many  places I would love to visit.  Ikaalinen being the foremost, Helsinki, and then Kuru, my grandfather's birthplace. The castles. The last glimpse of Finland when they sailed away. The graveyards. And of course sauna and swim in the lake my grandmother swam in. There's an inside joke between Hannu and I.......so maybe I should just say "walk into the same lake with my leather boots on".  While Hannu, Simo and I were at Lassen Volcanic Park I had wanted a better view of the mountain.  A tree was in the way. I walked into the lake water with my leather boots on -  but I got the photo I wanted. I do believe that Hannu and Simo think I am one "crazy Finn".   I am a true believer in "Don't let little things stand in your way".   

 Getting a little wet for this photo was worth it!

                                                                     
So many relatives in Finland, so little time.  I'd feel like a true Finn if I could sleep under bright lights (Midsummer) after downing  seven to nine cups of coffee and three or four desserts. Time to prepare myself, with the first step being able to  drink plenty of coffee. The Finns lead the world in coffee consumption, averaging numerous cups per person per day, and decaffeinated is probably a sin to the coffee gods.  I will  also need to eat baked goods, because the Finns enjoy their sweets. No problem there!
 
I would love to see the Seitseminen National Park, Ikaalinen Church (where my grandparents married), the Mannerheim Museum, the Häme Castle, the Fortress of Suomenlinna. Many places would be too far away.  I would be just as happy to  sit in a chair looking out at the lake my Grandmother viewed every day. I could sit there and imagine my grandfather August coming through the forest, to the property where the love of his life lived. 

I could envision my grandmother looking outside a window anxiously awaiting his arrival. I could breathe in the clean Finnish air and maybe all those stories my father told me about his parents would magically come to life.

I wish to meet as many of my relatives as possible. Share some Salmiakki????
For weeks afterwards Hannu and Simo's Finnish conversations echoed in my ears. I would find myself smiling. It would warm my heart just remembering what the three of us did, where we went - everything. His trip to visit and meet me was truly a gift from the Finnish God's themselves. It was amazing, the whole thing, absolutely amazing.  A once in a lifetime opportunity I will never forget. 



Before I go I thought of something that may be fun. It's almost County Fair time! My suggestion is that next time you go on a roller coaster, take some spare bolts with you and tell the person in front of you “Dude, these just came out of your…
 

Ending my blog as always, with my usual joke  -

Obama
 
He is destroying the "American Dream" by turning a once free country into a socialist nightmare

P.S. And this is for you Hannu, Jaakko and Simo

Suomen mafian tulee Kaliforniaan