Michaelson Reunion 2007

Afton, Wyoming. The Ranch. Star Valley. Home. No wonder this is one of my "happy places." The Michaelson reunion is held every year on the last Saturday of July. We have a barbeque on Friday night, the reunion proper on Saturday afternoon, fireworks courtesy of my Uncle Sid in the evening and a pancake breakfast on Sunday morning. With all the memories I have made at this reunion over my many years of life, it amazes me that other people, other families don't hold a yearly reunion. I say it's worth all the trouble, if they turn out even remotely like the ones we have.
Rivulet enjoyed crawling around in the grass at the ranch, finding mud and playing with her many cousins in the same age bracket.

(Above) Uncle Jeff helping Lemur wet his toesies in the Intermitent Spring. It's a 3/4 mile hike we do every year up to the "Geyser." I've done it every summer since I was Lemur's age. Last time Lemur hiked it, he lost his beloved paci to the water gods (he spit it out screaming for me). He remembered it this time, and kept asking if we were going to find it.
Above is the nasty gash I received for saving my son from a grisly death. Okay, a bad fall . . . but still. This is after I washed it off. Note the blood on the buckle. Cool, huh?
Papa and Lemur making it down the trail. I love moments like these.

Earlier that day was the actual REUNION! Above is Uncle John (who Lemur hasn't seen since Christmas) showing Lemur how to bump fists as a manly sign of comraderie. Lemur was beeming. They also threw rocks in the Swift Creek, right by the bowry.
Above is my Aunt Sylvia and my Grandma playing their accordians. It was awesome. They practiced all morning. At one point, G-ma came into the kitchen where I was busily cutting up fruit, started to play with Rivulet and commented, "That woman has gone accordian crazy!" Apparently my Aunt had just recently bought the red one and taught herself to play. It's the happiest I've ever seen her, honestly.
Uncle John and Rivulet spent some quality time together, when he wasn't tossing a ball in Lemur's face or teaching him . . . uh . . . colorful words. I miss my brother.

Good thing about digital cameras: I can take a picture of a picture and have it turn out like the above of my Great Great Grandfather, Jacob Michaelson. I have wanted this painting for my own, but G-ma absolutely will not part with it. So now I have my own. So to speak.
Above is a picture from inside the old barn, looking out at the old corral. I remember going in there early in the mornings in the summer to get Moneychanger and Missy for a ride. The weeds were just the same. While in the barn, I saw an old box of animal penicillan that expired November 30, 1950: with the bottle still inside! I also found a pair of overalls that I suspect belonged to my Great Grandfather Joseph.

While inside, I heard strange noises over head that I assumed were birds in the hay loft. But then I heard footsteps just behind me, out by the door. When i mustered up the courage to look out there, I saw the most beautiful rooster who caught sight of me and with a loud and humerous "Cluck cluck cluck" ran away across the yard. Boy was I relieved it wasn't a skunk!

And here is the M on the front screen door. It stands for Michaelson. I love this reunion. I love the food, the people and the place. I love family. I love being a part of a family like this one.

Well, there it is. A breif recap of what I did this weekend. Reunions ROCK!!!

Not so far from where I've been

Tonight I will be late for rehearsal.

Over three weeks ago when we received our schedule, I noticed the call time for today and told the stage manager that we would be arriving nearly two hours late (at the usual time) due to Muad'Dib's work schedule and the likely event of not having a babysitter.

I did not remind him and he did not remember.

I don't like feeling like a child caught in trouble.

When he called I tried to push the feeling aside as, "Well, I told you and it's your fault you didn't remember." I'm not sure that's far from the truth and yet . . .

I have a chilling fear, a throbbing anxiety that is slowly (over the last hour and a half) gaining strength: blurring my vision, my hands are shaking and it feels like a heavy wet blanket is hindering my ability to breathe.

Over and over through my mind replays an old memory: Me walking onto the "Deck" at Bonneville on the day of the last Tapestry performance. No one would look at me. No one would talk to me. Okay, one girl who said snidely, "Nice of you to show up."

Then I got reamed. I can't recall many moments in my life where I backed down from an argument, even with an adult. My defenses are up, armed and "fire when ready" quicker than anyone else I know. But this time. All I can remember was the sensation of spiraling into shame. Physically, emotionally and mentally. When i called my mother to pick me up, she could barely understand me between the sobs.

I feel like that scared little girl again.

Why?

I didn't do anything wrong the first time, I'm not so sure I did anything "wrong" this time . . . so why am I so consumed with fear that instead of getting ready for rehearsal I have to sit down and blog about it, hoping to cleanse the wound: hoping it will heal faster.

I don't want to go to rehearsal afraid. But I am afraid: afraid that in the short time between 5:15pm and when we arrive at 7:20 pm everyone will have turned against me. They will all hate me. Moreover, they will all just look at me sideways, with anger in their eyes: accusations I would not be allowed to answer because they would not be voiced.

I can see what these two situations have in common so far, but I sincerely hope they turn out differently. Why am I so afraid? What could any one of them possibly do to me?

I don't know.

Yet I fear. Yet my head spins with the cotton-ball-like numbness that is my defense against anxiety: Overload of feeling, must disengage.

Perhaps that's the answer: disengage.

Because truly, all I can control is my behavior when I walk in, and my reaction to anything anyone says. Nothing more. I can decide now what manner in which I will behave . . . and yet even these things, these ideas of control do not comfort me.

I am still afraid.

Why?

At the end of an era

I have finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and am simply dying to discuss it with someone in the same predicament. SOMEONE WHO HAS READ IT, PLEASE CALL ME!!!! ASAP!

Constellations of the Brain

It seems to me that we all have a little sadness in us.

Tonight, mine comes from looking at a situation and trying desperately to feel like it's not my responsibility. The problem is, I deeply feel it is my responsibility, because it is within my ability to change it. The people in charge don't want my help. Others "on my level" don't say anything at all, so I fear I am swimming alone . . .

My sadness comes from seeing pictures of myself . . .

From reading stories like Wildbound's and hearing my own inability to "finish a prayer."

From comparing myself to others.

From feeling hopeless.

From feeling useless.

From feeling like a failure.

From feeling a little bit lost.

But, on a brighter side: Muad'Dib is adorable and Harry Potter is awesome. My baby back pack arrived today and I rehearsed in a cute skirt that made me feel a little flow-y and pretty-ish. Though at the back of my mind remains these points of sadness, like stars: sometimes they shine brighter than other times. And right now, it is night: they shine for all to see. So what do we do when my sadness stars litter the night sky like dropplets of spilled milk? We connect the dots and make sense from the senselessness that is my unfiltered emotional response.

I think I see an otter! I will name him Fenwhing.

It was AWESOME!

Saturday night we went over to a friend's house for dinner with 3 other couples. Beginning the night with 6, the number swelled to double that by the end of the evening as others made their way over for fire-crisped marshmallows, many varieties of dessert and the occasional muscle testing.

I grilled the fish while Lemur played with toy guns and grownup buddies, and while Rivulet pulled up grass by her father's feet. Muad'Dib was engrossed in the many conversations to be had, be it with Fedaykin or any of the other stimulating minds we were in company with us that night.

After a brief fiasco with setting the fish on fire, we all sat around the picnic table and ate the Korean pickles (super yum), tasted each others offerings of meat, and sampled the salads. Some were able to taste Sangrea for the first time. Loved it. Rivulet took to eating fish like . . . a bigger fish eating smaller fish. Having downed half of Muad'Dib's slab, she dove for mine and made quite a dent there, as well, despite the occasional bone I had to spirit away from her mouth at the last second.

Then it turned windy for a while. Not the weather, but the conversation. With Muad'Dib in the mix, who can guess the topic that stirred up the table?

Capitalism, Consecration, Socialism, Monopolies, Paradigms, Assumptions, definitions of all these and more.
Poor self-proclaimed Socialist Sally.

Everyone knows how wound up I get when talking about . . . um anything really, but mainly spiritual matters: particularly with Trailblazer.

This was just like that. In fact, I can now understand why he so enjoys pushing my buttons: the reactions are monumentally fulfilling.

After recognizing that a full discussion could not be had until we all understood the "correct" definitions of these words that were flying around the table like friendly fire around a confused battlefield, we adjourned to the fire pit and the bags of fluffy corn syrup that awaited roasting.

Once there, the conversation persisted for only a few moments - and mainly between Muad'Dib and SS. In the meantime, the rest of us were laughing, conversing and marshmallow toasting until my husband and I had to convince our son to eat something.

The sun was setting behind the hill to the west, and as we were in a valley, night came a bit swifter then normal. But warmed by the fire and the company, we all remained content in the particularly interesting backyard provided by our lovely host.

And then, I can't remember what actually got us on the subject, though I think it had something to do with a little black pouch hanging around my neck. And before I knew it, there was energy/muscle testing happening on the lawn around the fire pit. Using my LOL pouch, I was able to demonstrate to one, then a few, then to nearly all the affect that an outside source can have on your energy.

It was awesome!

In fact, for one friend, this was the first she had heard of "energy" and all that. It was awesome. Did I say that already?

Others arrived just at that point, and we headed inside for some delicious desserts. Ever more friends entered the scene and I remembered what was meant by "the more the merrier." If we were "merry" before, surely we were "merrier" after the addition.

And then the night drew to a close, for us: the ones with the kidlets who required bed. And though we left, I'm sure, hours before any of the others even considered vacating the premises, I can say with satisfaction that we left happy. It makes me grateful that last year at this time I "let" Muad'Dib audition for and perform in a little play called The Scarlet Pimpernel. For these friendships are a product of that production. So worth it!

It was awesome!
Seriously, did I say that already?

Bulletin

Good news! Muad'Dib got a new schedule! So now, instead of having Wends and Thurs off, he will now have Sunday and Monday off while working the same hours!!! Yay my hubby gets to come to church with me!!! I'm so happy. And I wanted to share my joy with you all!

Blog, Blog, Bliggity Blog

Secret Garden is coming along nicely. We did our first real run through with everyone there last night. Granted, we rehearsed in an oven, but the run still went pretty well. Next week we start doing run throughs every night . . . and the week after: dress rehearsals. The kids have been great so far. We either have them outside with us or in the A/C of the green room. They usually spend thier time charming the other cast members, playing, watching a movie on the portable DVD player or learning to walk. Muad'Dib and I basically take turns with Rivulet, being as we are on stage at the same time only twice, and they are both at the end of the show.

Well, here's a look at what we've been doing:

Muad'Dib and Sally singing "Girl in the Valley" in the ampitheater. FYI, the seats you see are reserved seats, but you can also bring blankets and camp chairs opting to sit on the grass behind the chairs.

This is the only pic we have of me. I'm admiring the "dull purple sea" aka, the moor; trying to convice Mary that it's a good idea to go outside and play.
Then here is Muad'Dib singing "Someone's Crying," with Sally in the backround.
So, there it is. An update. I have been told that tickets are $12 for adults and $9 for children and seniors (children being 3-11 yrs), and are currently on sale if you call the DAC or visit the web page @ www.davisartscouncil.com We will have at least eight complimentary tickets for the show. They will go to those willing to watch the kids either the week before or week of performances. So if you'd like a free ticket just remember this: Exchange creates wealth!