Nearly blown away by Yosemite Tunnel View

Visiting Yosemite with the fam during Christmas was exciting and crazy.  We almost got blown away by the wind.  No, really, I nearly had my camera blown out of my hands.

Merry Armenian Christmas

Tomorrow is Christmas, and yes, I know, it's not really the exact date of the birth of Christ, yet it is the day we celebrate. End of story.Armenians, of course, celebrate Christmas in January, but we'll discuss that later.

Armenian Santa says Merry Christmas

 When I said to someone that beautiful sunsets and Christmas decorations were good for the soul, I got a response from a killjoy who retorted that yes, pagans really could throw a party.  Good, now we have Christian pagans who really know how to throw a party. So what?

Christmas has become about families and making others happy. And isn't that what God is all about anyway?  You can celebrate it regardless of whether you believe in the divinity of Jesus Christ or established religion.  So, say Merry Christmas and put your whole heart into it.

Some finished crafts - finally:

Some Christmas Cheer

Phew - Christmas is hectic.  Having family from far away visit; helping those in need; spreading the cheer all at once, it can seem like a lot.  Then I had the following post show up on my news feed in FB and I felt I had to post it here.  What a way to spread the cheer.  If only people would concentrate more on these sort of heartwarming situations then other confusing and difficult ones that end in tragedy.  Would those demonstrative sports players be so courageous as to herald this white officer rather than put their hands in the air as if all white officers hate them?  I wonder.  Merry Christmas and God bless Officer Briggs and to the young man who recovered and honored him.




From:  Julie Haener KTVU

8-years ago, CHP Officer Kevin Briggs talked this young man out of jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge.

That young man's name is Kevin Berthia.
Today he is 30 years old and married with 2 children.
This week he presented Officer Briggs with an award on behalf of the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.

The story of how Officer Briggs talked Kevin down is remarkable.

As you can see in the picture, Kevin is literally one step away from jumping to his death. But for more than hour, the officer listened to Kevin pour his heart out about his troubles and told him, “I know you think things are bad, but they can get better.”

Kevin says, “Officer Briggs never made me feel guilty for the situation I was in. He made feel like, I understand why you are here, but there are alternatives”

Kevin is just one of countless lives Briggs has saved over his 23 year career.

Briggs, who was promoted to Sergeant five years ago, is humble about what he does. He says, ”they make the decision, when they step back over that rail it takes a tremendous amount of courage”

I salute Sergeant Briggs!

Photo: The San Francisco Chronicle, John Storey

We're not the only Californians happy for the snow

The owner caught her horses frolicking in the first large storm California has seen this winter.  Taken in Dinkey Creek, CA.

Crafting in an RV

Crafting Time

It took me awhile to be able to get to the point where I could get my act together and be able to actually do some crafts in our RV.  It's hard, but what isn't?

It works, as long as no one else is in the RV!!  One person - only.  One problem on the mend, I suppose.  But I'm getting some crafting done and it feels so good.  I may even get some things made before Christmas, which is suddenly marching up behind me, yikes.

I am the Re-purposing Queen

Yes, I have labeled myself.  I love to find old, crappy things and make use of them again.  This, they say, is called "re-purposing." 

Ergo - my re-purposed Christmas wreath.  I found the poor thing at the Salvation Army and got it on sale for $1.50.  I smoothed out the ribbon, added some extra pine cones from around my area and some old ornaments I wasn't using.  It looks nice on the RV.  I added some twinkling lights from the Dollar store.  Not too shabby.  It feels great to save money.

Today is Pearl Harbor Day

Leaflet from WWII - dropped in the Philippines from US war planes.

On this date, Dec. 7, 1941, Japan bombed Pearl Harbor.  In WWII  the Japanese were taking over the Pacific from the Philippines to Singapore to Australia and had their sites set for the U.S. Japan, apparently, was becoming more and more under the influence of fascism. Had the U.S. not intervened, it would be a very different world today.

I had a necklace that my father made out of sea shells when he was in Guam and the Philippines during WWII.    He never talked about the war and I never asked him.  My cousins and my brother, however, remember him talking about the war and how he and some other soldiers were trapped in a house when it was stormed by Japanese troops.  Somehow he and one other soldier escaped, all the rest were killed.  The saber he carried is still in our family heirlooms.

He suffered Malaria and Typhus while there, but it never seemed to affect him.

They called him "short pockets" because he barely stood 5 ft. 2 in.  My mom called him "Mighty Mouse."  One of the kindest men I would ever know.

My Dad in the Philippines

  

   

Family History

I have been working on my family history for about 14 years now.  Through all my research and hours and hours of work, investigating, letter writing, etc., I met a very good friend.  It turns out his father and my uncle (whom I never met) were both stationed at Camp Crowder in WWII.  My Uncle died at Camp Crowder under mysterious circumstances.  Leonard, my friend, took it upon himself to pay tribute to my uncle on his blog.  I feel blessed to have met Leonard.  Please enjoy the following tribute, it means a lot to me.

http://www.ibiblio.org/cizewski/signalcorps/crowder/kalashian/dedication.html

I am Armenian

My mother, visiting the desert in Syria, Del Zor, where she lost siblings and other relatives.

Although I am Armenian, I was born in Central California.  I grew up with Armenians and the Armenian church, but I have never been able to travel to my homeland.  In fact, my parents and their parents came from Turkey.  It's a long, historical story.  Of course, there are factions and divisions, but the heart and the plight of every Armenian remains the same.  This little video and speech describes it beautifully.

The Easter Chicken

THE EASTER CHICKEN

When we were little kids we often received cute little baby chickens at Easter time for a gift and I suppose as some sort of reminder about Easter.  After all, hunting for Easter eggs was such a huge deal at Easter that getting a baby chick seemed appropriate.

Time went on and the cute little chickens became big hens and roosters.  It was at this time that, for some reason, my grandfather decided that his American born grandchildren needed to learn about the ways of the Old Country.  The way that we were going to learn was that he would take our now grown pet chicken and show us how to butcher it, feather it and, voila, eat it!

Although this was quite unusual and even somewhat horrifying, of more an impact  to me that I remember was the reaction of both my grandmother and my mother. I was only about 5 or 6 and I will forever remember the two of them carrying on and berating my grandfather.  My mother was absolutely incensed that he was using her kitchen knife which wasn’t very sharp.  My grandmother was furious and was scolding him in Turkish.  I have no idea what she said but I can only imagine.  My grandmother was a feisty thing and she could really let my grandfather have it.  No doubt she was trying to stop him and was telling him he was not doing this thing properly.  Yet, as feisty as my grandmother was, my grandfather was equally as stubborn and the procedure of cutting off the chicken’s head began.  Or, I should say, the “sawing” of the chicken’s head began.

My grandfather suffered from some sort of disease that made his hands shake.  The combination of the shaky hands and the dull knife meant for a rather long, arduous and pitiful ending for this poor chicken.  Nevertheless, we dutifully paid as much attention as we could for our lesson about “the old country” though it was very hard not to be distracted by my mother and grandmother’s running about my grandfather who seemed to be oblivious to their tirades.

The next thing I remember was sitting down to dinner and eating most everything except this strange chicken wing with a few pieces of feather still stuck to it.  I seemed to have forgotten about the horror show of the morning, so when I told my sister I didn’t want the chicken she reminded me that it was the very chicken grandpa had crucified earlier.  I told my sister, “I’m so glad I didn’t eat it then!”  I’m not sure that I learned anything about the Old Country from this experience, but I think I may have gained some interesting life experiences from my grandparents.

Me with my grandpa

This is where I live

Yes, it's a parking lot, and no, I don't live in the parking lot - before any of you get smarty.  What I am trying to portray is the little bit of civilization with the background of the mighty Sierra National Forest.  I love that I don't live in a suburb.  My point.

Decorating and remembering

Since I had to get rid of everything I owned, collected, saved, cherished and enjoyed in order to live in a tin can; I thought I should try and decorate as much as possible to make me feel better.  Here's a couple of pictures:

 I found this "negative" strip at Michael's - I like it because it reminds me of taking pictures back in the day when I had my first camera - a Pentax.  I can change the pictures out and enjoy other photos.  In the corner is a little clay pot I got on a trip to Thailand for decoration to remind me of my travels.  The flowers are from dollar world stores so I can inexpensively change them for different types and for different seasons.

The kitchen looks really nice when it's clean.  The curtains are from my old house.  I folded them in half because the windows are so short and now they fit perfect.

A brand new blog about.......umm

Blah, blah, blah, this is my new blog.  I'm sitting in my RV watching the birds in my makeshift garden from my picture window.  It's raining, so everything looks great.  For some reason, everything looks better wet.  The birds are happy because I threw a lot of bird seed out there.  Since this isn't a real garden, it doesn't matter if wheat stalks or corn stalks start growing.  Freedom, yeah.  Here's a picture: