Definition of Joy

4th of July

My nieces and nephews are awesome.

Here are my favorite shots of them when they came to visit for 4th of July.

Gavin, the G-man


Isabelle, the Izzy


Ryan, the Rydog

Jessica, the princess

Awww...nothing like making art at the street fair with Mom.


Drew - posing here as the quintessential Marblehead kid - dripping wet after a dip in the hah-bah.

Drew and the Brown

All the pictures are here.

Campout 2009

It's that time of year again. Camp. Out.

It rained. We didn't care.


Kyle caught a huge freaking fish.

Brownie camped for the first time.

Jer and Dylan jammed.


Look! A picture of almost all the Ruffinos together...except Lauren...hey Lauren you should have been there!


Camping is really different with an iPhone. It's better.


The kids looking so nice.


The parents, embarrassing them. Hey - it was our Michael Jackson Thriller tribute.


Last year it was the Duck.

This year it was Cady who struck gorgeous glowing poses around the campfire.

It was great to catch up, hang out around the fire and jam.



All pictures here.

Media evolution morning

Forget paperboys on bikes. That's over.

The paper is now delivered by grown men with Brazilian names driving cars.

The Globe used to be fat with news, job listings and ads. Back before Monster.com and worldwide economic crises the Sunday jobs section was bigger that today's Sunday Globe. There used to be columns and columns of original journalistic fare. But round after round of Globe layoffs, including yours truly, have further shortened the column inches or replaced Boston-authored copy with syndicated fill. Today's Globe is a pamphlet of its former self.

Even so, paging through the Globe each day is such a long standing ritual at our house, we still subscribe.

Each morning the paperman drives over another thin, emaciated Boston Globe and deposits it on my lawn in a bag I will use for dog poop.

So today I walked out to pick up my pamphlet and was greeted by news of another local media outlet going to the dogs...


The Rock of Boston, WBCN, is over? The radio station that we lived down the street from, right next to Fenway Park? The one that broke bands like U2, Elvis Costello, The Cars and 'Til Tuesday- whose band members lived right in our apartment building in Boston? The station that broadcasts the Patriots and used to broadcast Howard Stern? The one that, well, used to be, at least, a fixture in Boston? Gone?

Well yes. Kind of. Not really. Yeah.

The station website says that BCN lives on. That they're moving it exclusively to the Internet, and broadcasting it not on 104.1 (which now becomes all sports talk station), but on 98.5 which used to be called Mix 98.5. And stuff about upgrading to HD format.

Whatever.

I guess I'll go take the dog for a walk so I can add more crap to the pile.

Facebook goes to the dogs

O.M.G. Brownie has a Facebook page.

My favorite part is the Info section

Jimmy

My "little" brother Jimmy would have turned 40 a few days ago.

I miss his smiling face.

I thought there was nothing online...but recently found this.

Camp Alfred

Alfred, New York is a tiny little place that's brought me lots of big, important things.


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A great education.

Lifelong friends.


Lots of laughs.

Here's where Robin and I lived when we were on campus. It's also where I got married 23 years ago on one of the hottest 4th of July weekends on record surrounded by family and friends. I wish there was such thing as blogging back then...we threw one hell of a party.

Last week Robin, Janet, Chris, Judi and I went back to Alfred for our 25th reunion.

And there we all were, dancing to Rock Lobster and The Cramps in front of Alumni Hall surrounded by all the glowing luminarias on the quad. Time warp!

It struck me that almost all of us had met and/or married our husbands at Alfred. Which is kind of funny because none of us actually had getting married on our agendas. I mean, it took Robin almost 20 years to marry Ian and make an honest man out of him.

Since Alfred we've all scattered and traveled all over the world. But we always come back to reconnect with our Alfred roots and with each other.

We go to Alex's bar. We walk all over. We buy jewelry and pottery from local artists. We get wined and dined by university relations. We stay up too late. We talk until we're hoarse.

And Robin's laugh echoes down the valley.

This time Judi proved to her daughter that you could actually lay down in the middle of Main Street and NOT get run over by a car. And Chris and I ran the Reunion 5K. Once again Chris won fastest in our age group. Me? I was just glad to finish!

The highlight this year was that Robin's old boyfriend (class of '81) made an unannounced appearance - coming all the way from Texas just for the chance to see her. It was really flattering for her and good to catch up with him but, yeah, it got kinda creepy. Let's just say Robin chose the right guy.

I love my amazing friends...and we're so lucky to have this gorgeous little slice of New York country to come home to.

Hey, we even left King Alfred with some souvenirs from our visit.

Van Redux

Once upon a time Bob bought a great little BMW.

It was a great car. It was a date car. If you asked Bob about the engine, he'd have no idea. But he knew it had a great stereo.


It's the most expensive stereo he ever bought.

And then one day recently, AND WAY TO SOON, the transmission died. For a 2000 BMW with only 84,000 miles, the transmission most certainly should NOT have died.

The thing is...we had planned to replace our 2000 Honda Odyssey with a new minivan soon...having come to terms with the fact that we still have one more minivan in our lives. So the BMW dying has totally messed us up.

We know we have to replace the minivan...and we know it's not the right time to buy a new date car/new hybrid...sooooooo you know where this is headed right?

So we replaced the BMW with....a minivan. Noooooooooooooo!

Now Bob has got lots of incentive to get his next company/gig off the ground - so he can trade in the old Odyssey for a better car.

Until then...this is our driveway. How embarrassing!

Remembering

Bob and Drew are back in Rochester this weekend for the burial of Pops' ashes.

Dylan is out with friends and I find myself in a quiet house. How nice. How odd.

Mombo, Bob, Drew and the whole clan back in Rochester are at the Spencerport Relay for Life right now. I'm there in spirit. This year I sponsored a Luminarias for some of those close to me who have battled cancer - Mom, Dad, Marilyn, Mema, Dorothy, Pops, Ann.


So tonight I am remembering...

• How scary it was when Dorothy and Mombo were diagnosed with breast cancer. They fought back and they are survivors all these years later.
• How awful and unfair it was when my friend Ann got lymphoma. Wonderful Ann...the mother of three young kids, so full of energy and able to outdo any of us a the gym...how could this happen? And why did it happen when she was in the midst of an awful divorce? Well, Ann fought back and she and her kids are doing well.
  
• Those incredible days with my Dad when he was dying of lung cancer.
  
• And the days in the garden with Marilyn, when she was dying of the same thing.
• Too many words to say how it was with my Mom.
• How much I miss Pops.
  

When Bob was writing the eulogy for Pops, he sent me his notes by email.

So I have a record of the incredible speech he gave. The one where I had to rush up to the pulpit and read the part about how Pops taught us to love family, and what that means...because Bob couldn't say it through his tears.

Here it is. Get the Kleenex out. And then go out and do something wonderful or scary or new. Do something important to you.

Life is short. Make it count.

Notes for eulogy of Bob Welch, by Bob Welch Jr.

Anybody taking bets on whether I'll make it through this?

It's been nice to see so many people come see my father. From the hospital until now. When he was in the hospice it felt like he was having his own version of the movie "It's a Wonderful Life" It was very moving to hear the big and small ways Dad impacted people's lives.

He loved to stay active. He always talked about the singing groups he was in, the plays he went to, the bus trips, the sports games, the series of breakfast & lunch groups he belonged too, the visits with his brothers and nieces & nephews, the Bills, NASCAR, his lousy golf score, his grandchildren and his Florida trips. He always had something going on. He loved living.

He was always involved with his immediate family too. He was a great Dad.

He was always upbeat.

I can remember as a boy Dad used to take the bus to work and we knew when he was close to home because we could hear him whistling as he walked up the street. Mom would say “I hear your father”

I remember him letting go of my bike seat that first time I tried to ride without training wheels ...and I remember him jogging over to pick me up after I had crashed into the light pole on the Cuthbert’s front lawn.

He once slept outdoors with me under a tent of blankets I'd hung over the clothesline.

He loved golf, especially with my sisters because they brought snacks!
And the girls always called Dad before golf to check the weather because he was the family weatherman.

He was a self described “Old Softie”

Every time one of us had to go to the hospital Dad took us for ice cream afterward.

Sharon went to the hospital 7 times, so she was the ice cream champion.

He went on campouts with us boys
He famously earned sleeping merit badge for his napping prowess at Boy Scout Camp.

He traveled around the country with us in the Drum Corp.

He could be heard in the audience of school basketball yelling “Nice job B”

After visiting with Dad at his house he always walked you out to your car. That’s the kind of guy he was.

This was a man who was not an overt leader but someone who lead by example. The way he lived his life was honorable and made all of us want to live in the same manner.

He showed us

How to treat people.
– how to never give up on a person, especially when they’re at their worst,
but instead to shower them with love and support.

He showed us how to bring levity to any situation.

One day we had a “Wait until your Father gets home moment” when we were all
little.

We had drove mom nuts all day. Must have been my sisters not Dan & I.

When Dad got home she wanted him to let us have it.

So he stood up and took off his belt.

We were all scared, but at that same moment he let his pants drop to the floor and there he stood in his underwear, belt in hand.

That was it, everyone in the room, including mom, was in stitches. Stress & tension gone we could get on with dinner and discussing the issues of the day.

Dad showed us

How to be a humble.
How to love.

How to love your own family and what that means.

He showed us what sacrifice for family and kids was all about.
He showed us how to raise kids.
How to have our spouses be our best friends.

He showed us
How to enjoy life.
And how to have a great sense of humor.

He showed us how to love music.

He always called out the bass line or a key change in a song, “did you hear that” he’d say” …and he’d get his wry little crooked smile on his face.

He taught me how to make the perfect fried egg.

And Schreiner – for the record, he taught me how to cut the lawn.

In the end, as was his way, he was more worried about us than himself. He wanted us to be comfortable, he wanted us not to be stressed, he wanted us not to have to fuss over him. He wanted to comfort us in his own demise. Always thinking of others before himself. He kept his sense of humor right to the end.

I like to think of Dad now at the Wegmans up in heaven. I can see him walking the aisles and going up to someone he recognizes...."Hey so & so, I didn't know you died" ...and off he'd go talking about what happened to him, how nice the hospice was, talking about all the details, what kind of food they had and who had brought food for him.

I know we’ll go on in our lives emulating Dad, and that’s a good thing. But in closing I only want to offer one piece of advice for my siblings. Don’t start putting ice cubes in your milk! Thank you all for coming.

Tangerine dream

One day five or six years ago, back when Mom and Dorothy were living in Boston, I received a very special gift. It was a Sunday in May and Dorothy arrived carrying a beautiful orange azalea. Even when it was just a sprite in the pot, it was clear this was a beautiful plant.

ON her way to my house she had driven by a garden center. She had spied the azalea as she drove by. She promptly turned around, went back and bought it. I love that about Dorothy - how she will take notice, stop and take these turns.

And that's how I ended up with this spectacular tangerine dream in my garden. Each year when it blooms I send my thanks to Dorothy. Each year people admire it. They wander down my neighbor's driveway and into my back yard to get a closer looks. Really. It's spectacular.

This year I tried capturing the beauty. See if you agree.



More pictures here.