Showing posts with label grandchildren. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grandchildren. Show all posts

Monday, October 24, 2016

A Chilling Scene

Regular readers of this blog may remember a few past posts where I lamented the fact that my house is notoriously cold. Frigid, actually—and year ’round too. (My wife thinks the air conditioner was invented for those balmy December days).

Long ago, my kids and I learned to endure the icy temperatures and deal with the artic blasts that routinely blow through the so-called shelter we refer to as a house. Sometimes this is accomplished by wearing a coat or multiple layers of clothing and sometimes, get this, by turning up the heat! That only works until my wife realizes the climate has moderated to a more normal, and livable, level. Then, with the flip of a switch, she plunges us back into the ice age.

I may have exaggerated some of this (slightly) but one thing is certain, it is always cold at my house. Spring, summer, fall, and winter, it’s cold. Sometimes, I think I live in Siberia! Although... there are a few benefits to such conditions, for instance: we do not need to refrigerate our pop, and there’s never any rush to put away leftovers—it’s not like they’re going to spoil!

My children have all moved on to warmer surroundings, but now, there is a new generation feeling the effects of my wife’s strange aversion to anything resembling heat. My daughter was putting away her laundry the other day and started to put her son’s fleece pajamas in his drawer. “No,” he said. “Those are for Grandma’s house.”

Poor kid. I know exactly how he feels. But it is nice to see the survival instinct kicking in! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

______________________________


Current Reads





Monday, October 17, 2016

Seal Of Disapproval

I learned something last week; seals are rather vindictive creatures!

While at the coast last weekend, my wife and I, along with our daughter and grandson, visited an aquarium. One of the features of this aquarium is they allow visitors to feed the seals. The food they provide is authentic seal food—otherwise known as fish.

My grandson was okay with handling the fish (much to his mother’s dismay) but after touching a particularly slimy one, he decided it would be best to let grandpa do the feeding. And that’s how I came to be standing beside a pool of ocean-like salt water tossing fish to a group of seals.

As one can imagine, the seals have discovered that performing tricks tends to get them more fish and they are quite active in this regard. They clap, stand on their tail fin, swim sideways and wave—anything to get attention.

I appreciated their efforts and felt compelled to reward them but I also wanted to distribute the food fairly. I didn’t want any of them left out, they might feel bad! So, after “paying” the most outgoing ones, I began concentrating on the few timid ones in the back. But one of the more active and agile seals thought he’d show me how well he could jump—and catch. As I lobbed a fish to the rear of the pool, he shot out of the water, snatching the fish out of the air, nearly out of the mouth of the seal I’d thrown it to.

Since I like to talk to animals as if they are people, I started scolding the fish thief. I told him he wasn’t very nice and taking another seal’s food wasn’t being fair. “You already had yours,” I said. “You’re a seal, not a pig.” And then I added, “You really need to learn to share.”

With one fish remaining, I stepped a little closer to the tank and, telling Mr. Fish Bandit it wasn’t for him, after a fake throw to the side, I threw it directly to the seal in the back. He caught it and then clapped for me.

I was feeling pretty proud of myself (yes, for outsmarting a seal—but hey, I’ve heard they are one of the most intelligent creatures) when I saw the fin on the seal who felt he’d been slighted come out of the water. Saw it go back. And then I saw it start moving forward. I knew what was coming but not soon enough to move out of the way of the big spray of water that shot toward me. And soaked me! Apparently, he hadn’t appreciated my lecture, or the fact that I hadn’t given him the last fish. I don’t know if seals can actually smirk or not but I’m fairly sure this one was!

Of course, my grandson thought it all was hilarious, as did his mother, along with my wife and a few other visitors who had been watching. Amid the laughter, I heard a little boy tell his dad, “You can feed them, I don’t want to get splashed.”

As we were leaving, people were still smiling when they saw the water dripping off of me. Yeah, I’m glad that getting drenched by a spiteful seal helped make everyone’s day! On the bright side, I didn’t have to add any salt to my food when we went out to eat later! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

______________________________



Current Reads





Sunday, October 9, 2016

To See The Sea

Well, in case anyone is wondering, the ocean is still there! This I know, I just went and checked. And there it was briny foam and all, just like it has been for thousands of years. Not that I had any doubts, but my grandson, who is turning three today, thought we needed to make sure.

His mother had planned a seaside visit for his birthday and after learning I would be going along, he said, “Yeah, you need to go. We need to make sure the ocean is still there.” When I asked where he thought it might be, he gave me an incredulous look and said matter-of-factly, “At the beach.” I’m sure he was thinking his grandpa needed more schooling.

October though, is not really the best time to visit the beach—at least in Oregon. Both days we were there, it was rainy, cold, and windy. Very windy—enough to blow the wet sand around. But none of that mattered to a little boy celebrating his birthday. For some reason, he seemed to be able to ignore the inclement weather better than the rest of us.

Actually, even for the adults it wasn’t all that bad. We chose a lot of indoor activities but we did manage to make it down to the beach too, right down to where the water was coming up to greet us, washing up crabs, sand dollars, and other creatures.

We spent some time exploring and then playing in the sand: building a sand castle, making things, and just digging. Oh yeah, and throwing sand into the air. Okay, only my grandson threw the sand, I just happened to be the one who was the recipient of his antics, thanks to gravity. Good thing I wear a hat, I guess!

Watching him was quite entertaining and made for an enjoyable trip—despite the weather. Somewhere, amid all the fun my grandson looks at me and says, “I told you this is where the ocean is.”

Yeah, like I’m the one who was wondering! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

______________________________



Current Reads





Monday, August 22, 2016

The Information Age

It’s amazing what a guy can learn from those little human-like creatures known as grandchildren. Having recently spent a week with all five of my grandchildren, I am now brimming with information. While some of it is interesting, some are things a guy would rather not hear.

Among the things I’ve learned is: that I need to lose weight (although, it was not stated quite that way), that I’m getting old, that when the sun rises it’s time to get up (even if you’ve just gone to bed a couple of hours before), that what little hair I have left is mostly gray, that kissing my wife spreads germs, that I wouldn’t make a good fisherman, that I talk too much, and the list went on. And on.

Then there was the utterly useless stuff like: motorcycles have two wheels, water is wet, and you should open a door before going in. While it come as a surprise to some (my grandchildren) these things I already knew but had long ago dismissed them because they don’t serve much of a purpose for, well, anything. That didn’t seem to matter; I was still deluged with all of their “profound” knowledge.

Some of this enlightening info I asked for but most of it was offered freely with no prompting. The little critters seem to have no inhibitions when it comes to speaking their mind. But in a world where everyone has learned to sugarcoat things in order to not offend anyone, I found their open honesty refreshing! But also, a little overwhelming. I’m not sure how they expected me to remember it all!

Yep, I definitely learned a lot of stuff. A week’s worth times five! But I think the most important thing I learned during our time together is, don’t ask a child a question if you don’t want to know the answer! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

Sunday, January 3, 2016

A New Year

2016. A new year. So far, it doesn’t seem any different from the old year to me. This is the fourth day and I don’t see anything that’s changed—other than the calendar. Sure, there are little subtle differences from day to day, but those always occur. Monday is a little different than Sunday, Tuesday changes a little more, and so on. We start new days, new weeks, and new months without much hullabaloo. But for some reason, everybody gets all excited about a new year.

I could understand if the year marks a big event for someone, graduation, getting married, or retiring; something they’ve been looking forward to and waiting on. Maybe the anticipated birth of a child or grandchild would be something to celebrate. But I know not everyone has a monumental moment planned. In fact, I’m pretty sure most people don’t. Still, for some reason everybody gets all excited about a new year.

Also, I’ve noticed during past years that the newness of a new year tends to wear off very quickly. By the middle of January, people are back to the grind, the festive mood of only a few days before all but gone. They go back to their “mundane” life of day to day living; getting up, going to work—or whatever else they do—going home, and going to bed, getting up... I’m sure you get the picture. This continues right through December when, for some reason everybody gets all excited about a new year.

I have my suspicions that it isn’t really the new year that matters as much as the fact that it’s a holiday and people like having time off work and celebrating. I could be wrong, but I doubt it. So, while I didn’t mention anything last week about the new year, I wanted to make sure I didn’t let it slip by unnoticed—because I know how everybody gets all excited about a new year.

HAPPY NEW YEAR! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook and paperback on iTunes, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and Smashwords.  Amazon Profile - www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.


______________________________





Current Reads







Sunday, December 27, 2015

Nothing Against Frosty But...

I never liked building snowmen. Maybe because I never liked snow. And then there’s that cold thing, which as you may know, I don’t like at all! So, I don’t like building snowmen. I never really got into sledding or other wintertime activities either. If I’m going to play in the snow, I want it to be warm and sunny, you know, summer.

I did make a few snowmen when I was a kid—enough to learn how to do it anyway. But I much preferred watching other people make them—from inside! Still do. Yeah, I’m not much of a winter outdoorsman, I know.

Of course, after I had kids, making snowmen became part of my job. (That is in the job description for being a parent, I think). But even that was limited. My idea of a snowman was to make one and hope it would last all winter. That never happened; my kids would destroy them—on purpose, I think, just so I would have to build another one!

And now, I have grandchildren. For some reason they like snowmen. Yeah, they’re a little crazy. I think they take after their grandmother, at least in their affinity for snow and winter-related activities.

This past weekend, we had a couple inches of snow. One of my grandkids was at the house and I now have a snowman in my front yard. No, I didn’t build it. Lucky for me, my son was visiting for Christmas and he got the privilege of going outside, rolling snow around in the yard and stacking the balls on top of each other (and freezing). He’s a good uncle. Me, I never liked building snowmen! ~

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook and paperback on iTunes, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and Smashwords.  Amazon Profile - www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.


______________________________





Current Reads




Monday, September 14, 2015

Cantonese Adventure

So apparently, guys are not supposed to take young kids to a restaurant by themselves. At least that’s what I hear. I’m not sure if they aren’t allowed to or if people just think they shouldn’t. Either way, I guess I went and broke the rule.

I found this out last Saturday. My wife and daughter went shopping and I kept the one-year-old grandkid. I thought it would be a good time to enjoy a nice dinner at my favorite Chinese restaurant. Yes, the grandkid likes Chinese food. And he knows how to eat by himself, with utensils, so it wasn’t a big deal. Or so, I thought.

We got a lot of strange looks from staff and other customers the minute we walked in. The hostess, who wanted to seat us at a large table, kept asking if the rest of our party would be coming soon. When I finally got through to her that were alone, she gave me a strange look but seated us at a table for two. Even the waitress appeared concerned, asking if I needed her to help me feed the kid. I guess that was a nice offer but, uh, no. I’m quite capable of managing on my own.

But, apparently people just don’t expect guys to take young kids to a restaurant. I think what they expect is guys to be incompetent, or intimidated, or something. Well, maybe some guys are. I am not. That doesn’t make me special. Taking care of a one-year-old is not exactly hard. And doing it successfully shouldn’t give anyone bragging rights. It should be just normal. When my own kids were little, I took them anywhere and everywhere I went. Seems only natural. Especially since the alternative would be to leave them home alone. Pretty sure that would cause more problems than whatever catastrophe everyone is waiting for.

Eventually, everybody at the restaurant got used to the idea that we were there alone. But the waitress, still obviously worried about me, came by and in her heavy Chinese accent asked, “Are you okay?” I nodded and she went on her way. But in a couple of minutes she came back by. It was then that the grandkid, who is into mimicking everything he hears people say, looked at her and, in the same foreign accent, said, “Are you okay?”

She laughed, as did everyone within earshot. “He say that like me,” the waitress said, smiling proudly.

We finished our meal, packaged up the leftovers, and went to pay the bill—all the while the grandkid is listening intently to the workers talk, trying to copy them. And doing a pretty good job if the audience response was any indication! His audience being the entire restaurant!

All in all, we had a good time, ate some good food, and... nothing terrible happened. But apparently, according to the wisdom of the general public, guys are still not supposed to take young kids to a restaurant. And they may be right. After we got home, I had only an hour or two to get rid of the Chinese accent the grandkid had acquired—before his mother came back! ~


Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook and paperback on iTunes, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and Smashwords, or at www.bruceabordersbooks.weebly.com. Amazon Profile - http://www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

______________________________



Current Reads




Monday, December 1, 2014

In The Middle

Usually, being caught in the middle of something is not a good thing. Stuck in the crossfire of two opposing sides, and feeling loyalty to both can be maddening. It often means being in the crosshairs of both sides, and can stem from family, friends, or be politically or job related. Usually.

In my case, at least as it relates to this blog post, being caught in the middle holds no negative association. There’s no crossfire or vying for loyalty, and I certainly don’t feel like I’m in anyone’s crosshairs. In fact, I find it sort of inspiring. I suppose I should explain.

This past Thursday, my wife and I were privileged to have a lot of family join us for Thanksgiving. We had all of our kids home (and the grandchildren), my brother and his family were here, as well as one of my aunts and my parents.

Now, I’ve notice this before, but for some reason I was struck by how much our kids reminded me of myself when I was younger. They have many of the same actions, the same habits, the same speech patterns, and a lot of the same looks. (My poor kids, I know).

And my grandkids, they just don’t have a chance. They seem to take after everyone in the family; parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles—I know, that’s kind of the norm among families. But it is amazing to see when everyone is together.

And now for the scary part; it also works in the reverse. I see myself and my brother doing things and saying things just like our parents. What’s more, we even look a lot like them. (Not too shocking, I realize). I’m also told I look and act a lot like my Grandpa—a guy I never really got to know that well. Could it be we are related?

The gist of what I’m trying to say here is, as much as life seems to change from generation to generation, it really stays the same. Time keeps going forward, yet, looking ahead or looking back doesn’t seem to make a lot of difference. It’s merely a different perspective; a different point of view in the landscape of life. I feel lucky because, for the moment at least, I seem to be caught right in the middle.

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook and paperback on iTunes, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords, or at www.bruceabordersbooks.weebly.com. Amazon Profile - http://www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS Bruce A. Borders also serves as the Vice President of Rave Reviews Book Club http://ravereviewsbynonniejules.wordpress.com

______________________________



Current Reads
A Personal Journey To The Heart Of Teaching
John Fioravanti


Through The Keyhole: True Stories Not For The Faint Of Heart
Liz Cowan


Our Lady Of Victory
Shirley Harris-Slaughter



SPOTLIGHT Author
 G. A. Whitmore
A Place To Call Home: Toby's Tale



Monday, October 14, 2013

Baby Magic

You’d think the thrill of holding and seeing a newborn baby would wear off. I mean, my wife and I have three children and have already been blessed with three grandchildren. Another baby should be old hat. But, this past week when we welcomed our fourth grandchild into the world it was just as exciting as all the others.

There’s something about a newborn; the cry, the coos, the look of wide-open wonder in their eyes, the wispy soft skin, the squirmy little body, and the way they naturally cuddle and snuggle close, is all so fascinating and endearing. There is an instant bond when a parent or grandparent holds a newborn baby. It’s a feeling that is almost indescribable. I call it Baby Magic.

But wait, there’s more to this phenomenon.

Looking at my grandchildren, I see my myself, my wife, our parents, our children, and usually a lot of other family members. I’m sure the same is true for everyone. Babies possess the unique ability to resemble multiple people all at once, while still maintaining their own individuality and looks. That’s Baby Magic.

Babies, especially newborns, command the attention of nearly everyone in their presence and can quickly turn a roomful of otherwise sane adults into strange acting creatures who cannot seem to utter a single coherent word. Again, Baby Magic.

Babies can melt hearts, put smiles on faces, and instantly turn a bad day around - all without saying a word. Baby Magic.

Babies allow us, in some small way, to relive our childhood; with simple ease they take us back to yesteryear and effortlessly bring things to mind that were once forgotten. Good things. Memories. Baby Magic.

Of course, me being somewhat philosophical, the birth of a baby - especially a grandbaby - brings the realization that with each one, I am getting older. It’s quite a sobering thought; their life is just beginning, mine is moving ever closer to being over. Not that I plan on dying any time soon, but it is a cold reality of life - the older generation is eventually replaced by the younger ones. Yet, with the birth of each of my grandchildren, I see a part of me that will live on long after I am gone. In a way, I have become immortal. Another benefit of - yep,  Baby Magic.

Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books. Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, and Miscarriage Of Justice, and other titles, are available as ebooks on Apple I-Pad®, Amazon Kindle®, Barnes & Noble Nook® and Sony Reader®, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords. His books are also available in paperback at most online retailers or at www.bruceabordersbooks.weebly.com. The popular Wynn Garrett Series Books are now available on Barnes And Noble® at http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/?series_id=867526 See Bruce’s Smashwords Profile at www.smashwords.com/profile/view/BruceABorders?ref=BruceABorders  #BruceABorders