Looking back at my wedding 23 years ago today

Posted on 30. May, 2010 by kchristieh in my life

On a hot spring morning 23 years ago today, I married a wonderful man, surrounded by the love and support of our amazing friends and family.

Because this was the pre-digital age, our primary records of the day include a VHS tape and a wedding album that’s starting to get sticky and degrade on the outside. My stepfather converted the VHS tape to a DVD, which we plan on watching today. I scanned representative pictures from the photo album, and hope that you enjoy them below.

Here’s a picture of me, my younger sister, and my two stepbrothers. My sister was my Maid of Honor. She’s best remembered that day for fainting from the heat in the un-air conditioned church. My stepbrothers were too young to be ushers, so they were our videographers. They called themselves Chico and Kabul in the video. We’re not sure why. The best line was when they asked my husband if he had any words for the groom, and he said, “I am the groom.” Classic, and probably better than any pro could have done.

Mark, Craig, Me, Ann

My husband grew up in Kansas City and Wichita, so the only relatives he had in attendance were those in his immediate family. I was afraid that my outgoing family might put them off, but I think they enjoyed themselves.

Donna, Boniface, Don, Bia, Donna

My parents got divorced when I was in junior high and re-married when I was in high school, so I get the love of four parents. Here’s a picture of us with my father and stepmother:

John, Me, Don, Joyce

And here’s one with my mother and stepfather. My stepfather’s name is also Don, so my mother and I refer to the Dons as “my Don” and “your Don.” My mother was 45 at the time.

Don D., Me, My Don, Gerri

Here we are at the altar of The First Presbyterian Church at Tower Hill in Red Bank, NJ. It’s the church I grew up in. Soon after we were married, I believe the pastor quit to become a travel agent.

Our wedding party consisted of the siblings old enough to be in a wedding party and friends from school. I’m sorry for the pink dresses, and laughed when I’m sure that I saw one of them at Aardvark’s second-hand store in Pasadena. But, they were standard for 1987.

After the wedding ceremony, the photographer took pictures of Don and I at the little park by the Navesink River. I’ll never ever have hair that short again. Two years later, my sister used the same wedding dress, minus the sleeves. Before my mother and stepfather moved to California, my mom had a friend cut up the dress and use the fabric to make christening gowns and two little wedding purses. I’m 100% sure my daughter will be thrilled that she’ll have a small purse for her wedding instead of a used 80’s gown. I still have the veil. Maybe she’ll use that?

Our reception was awesome. I had nearly nothing to do with the planning, thanks to the generous cooperation of my parents and stepparents. The band was incredible, and we had fun imitating the PeeWee Herman “Tequila” dance. Don and I saw “PeeWee’s Great Adventure” on our first date. I’m not sure what dance we were doing below, but we were having lots of fun.

I’ve been blessed with wonderful grandparents and stepgrandparents. Here are my father’s parents. You can see THEIR wedding video here.

Here are my step-grandparents. They were known as Grandma & Grandpa D.

Here’s a picture of my mom’s family. It’s rare to get them all in one picture like this, and I’m not sure it’s happened since.

Too bad the photographer didn’t get a picture of us driving off in my sister’s beaten-up old Subaru. I had to squish my dress into it before the door closed. It was the one detail we’d overlooked on our perfect day, but it made for a great story for years later.

Happy Anniversary to Us!!!

Stuck on the 2010 Census race question

Posted on 17. Mar, 2010 by kchristieh in my life

Filling out the 2010 Census was as easy as promised until I got to Question 9: What is Person 1’s race? Mark one or more boxes.

Person #1, aka my husband, is Mexican-American, so Question 8: Is Person 1 of Hispanic, Latino or Spanish origin? was easy. From what we know of his heritage, he’s part-Spanish, part-Italian, part-Persian and like so many Mexicans, part-Native American. In fact, when he swabbed the inside of his cheek a few years ago and sent the cells off to a company that National Geographic worked with to perform a DNA test, it came back saying that his ancestors crossed the Bering Strait and traveled to South America.

Unfortunately, the choices for Question 9 discouraged us from picking American Indian, since it asks the name of the enrolled or principal tribe. Who knows how many eons ago his ancestors were part of an American Indian tribe? They were probably Aztecs or Mayans more recently, but that wasn’t a choice.

If he’d been Chinese, it would have been much easier. Question 9 separates out Asian Indian, Chinese, Japanese, Korean and Vietnamese as different races. I consider them all to be Asian, though I appreciate that they have distinct cultures. On the other hand, if they’re looking to track distinct cultures, why don’t they track Arabs? I’m not the first to notice that omission.

I heard on the radio the other day that it wasn’t until Medieval times that people even really cared about race. (Although I’d bet some slaves would argue with that.) It’s sad that humans are hung up on the color of one’s skin. Perhaps the more that people get to know people of different races and intermarry, they’ll not only better appreciate what’s inside a person and not what’s on the outside, but it’ll be harder and harder to determine what race someone is. (Click here to see The Onion’s take on this.) Since it’s St. Patrick’s Day, maybe it would be easier if we were all Irish. Just kidding – it would be easy for me, but others might object.

By the way, he told me to mark White on the form. I will, but it only tells part of his story. At least Question 8 tells another part.

How do I communicate with you? Let me count the ways…

Posted on 04. Feb, 2010 by kchristieh in social networking

It’s ironic that what is meant to make our lives simpler often complicates them.

Even though new technologies have given us more effective means of communicating, my communications are complicated by the fact that I have to keep track of how all the different people in my life prefer to communicate. Here’s a short version of the list I maintain in my brain:

• Son: Facebook, text messaging
• Daughter: Facebook, email, text messaging
• Husband: Facebook, email, call work phone not cell phone
• Mother: Email, home phone, some Facebook
• Father & stepmother: Email, cell phone, home phone depending on which state they’re in
• Sister: Home phone
• Stepfather: Email
• Aunt: Email
• Brother-in-law: Texting, Facebook, email
• Lisa: Email, or she’ll call me on the way to work
• Monica: Email, texting
• Jaclyn & Holly: Facebook, texting, email
• Grandparents: Email, home phone

Of course, face-to-face interaction is the best, but that’s not always possible. Thankfully, I’m comfortable using all of these forms of communication.

This list is constantly evolving. My son will need to start checking his email over the next year as his guidance counselor and colleges start emailing him information. My mother will eventually get more comfortable on Facebook, and I hope that my father and stepparents will give in and join Facebook.

I’ll get a smarter cellphone in the next year or two, and will probably start depending on it more. Until then, when people send picture messages to my phone, I can’t see them well enough to distinguish if they’re pictures of babies or dogs.

Maybe I’ll just start sending letters again. Probably not.

Note: The picture above depicts Ernestine, the character Lily Tomlin played in “Laugh-In.” I played that character in my elementary school play, and can still do a pretty mean Ernestine impression. Young’uns who aren’t familiar with Ernestine may enjoy this video where she explains her position on healthcare:

Everyone should have an Uncle Bob

Posted on 15. Dec, 2009 by kchristieh in my life

I used to joke with friends that it seemed that everyone has an Uncle Bob. If they don’t, then they’re missing something special.

My Uncle Bob, my father’s only sibling, died just a few hours ago. He was young – just 71 – but he lived a very full life. We’re all going to miss him terribly, and I can’t imagine seeing my aunt and cousins without him being there.

(The picture to the right features my father, my mother, Aunt Roe & Uncle Bob.)

Here are some of my favorite memories of Uncle Bob:

• When I was little, my father and Uncle Bob would get together each fall to make Bread & Butter Pickles. I love pickles, but I never liked these. Perhaps it was because they’d make them in a…garbage can. (Does that sound White Trash or what??!?) Don’t worry – they’d buy a new can every year. But I could never reconcile the pickles’ origins with their final purpose.
• No one embraced the advent of email more than Uncle Bob. There wasn’t a joke, picture, or soppy story he wouldn’t forward. I’d roll my eyes at many of them, but every once in awhile there’d be a gem. But I’d always try to click on them, just in case it was an email he wrote about what he or his family was up to.
• He and my Aunt Roe raised the best kids ever. Truly. My cousins are awesome. My sister and I spent a lot of time with the oldest two when we were younger, since they lived a few towns away and were nearly the same age we were. I wish my cousins lived near me, since I’m sure we’d be great friends, too.
• I’ve never seen a more productive vegetable garden than Uncle Bob’s. I picture it surrounded and covered by wire fencing, to keep the deer, rabbits, and other critters out.
• I never realized until this evening how much it meant to my husband that Uncle Bob and the rest of that side of my family were so accepting of him. He wasn’t sure they’d open their hearts to a Hispanic guy from the Midwest, although I never had a doubt.
• I traveled the world vicariously via Uncle Bob’s journal over the past few years. He would email me long stories of everything from the personalities on the cruise ship to the food he ate onshore. I’m glad he didn’t wait until he was older to do what he really wanted to.

I’m sure that over the next few days and months I’ll think of more great memories of Uncle Bob. I miss him, and my heart goes out to my aunt and my cousins and their families.

—————————————————————–

It’s no surprise that I found a recipe for Bread & Butter Pickles online in a book called “” by Ernest Matthew Mickler. Maybe I’ll make some in Uncle Bob’s honor, minus the garbage can.

Did my ancestor need to apologize to the Indians?

Posted on 29. Nov, 2009 by kchristieh in history, religion

If my kids were to construct a physical family tree to reflect what we know of their ancestors, it would be incredibly lopsided. My husband can barely trace his ancestors back to his great grandparents, whereas I can trace at least one branch of my family tree back to the late 1500’s. One of my more famous ancestors was Everardus Bogardus, who was the second minister of the Reformed Dutch Church in New Amsterdam, which we now know as New York.

So it was with great interest that I read that Rev. Robert Chase from Collegiate Church, which is the current incarnation of the Reformed Dutch Church, Indians for the church’s role in their massacre and displacement. (see the to the right)

“We consumed your resources, dehumanized your people and disregarded your culture, along with your dreams, hopes and great love for this land,” the Rev. Robert Chase told descendants from both sides. “With pain, we the Collegiate Church, remember our part in these events.”

As a center of the new colony, it’s not surprising that the church would have played a role in persecuting the Indians. Still, it was disappointing to envision an ancestor of mine playing such a big role in it. Fortunately, I found an article about Everardus Bogardus that says that he actually was kind to the Indians.

Before arriving in New Amsterdam in 1633, The Dutch minister had served as a ‘ziekentrooster’ (comforter of the sick) on the Guinea coast. While there, he developed a concern for the spiritual condition of Africans that carried over into his dealings with New Amsterdam’s West Africans. In 1636, Bogardus pleaded for a schoolmaster to be sent from Holland. As New Amsterdam’s minister, he routinely married African men and women and baptized their children, and made a great effort to welcome Africans into New Amsterdam’s Reformed Protestant Church.

…

Everardus Bogardus was a controversial figure in more than one way. He was at odds with one of the settlement’s first leaders, Willem Kieft. Bogardus denounced Kieft from his pulpit due to Kieft’s decisions to initiate wars with the local Indians.

I wish I could meet my ancestors. It’d be amazing to see firsthand what their lives were like and why they made the decisions they did.

I found a website dedicated to tracing descendancy to Everardus Bogardus and his wife Anneke. It says there are probably a million people who can claim them as ancestors. I wonder if this is true. If so, it shows that many of us are more related than we ever imagined. The website also puts to rest rumors that Anneke was descended from King William the Silent in Holland. I always wondered how I could descend from someone who was silent. Instead, it turns out she was born in Norway. That adds yet another country to my list of Northern European countries I descend from, so that’s cool.

3rd Best Thanksgiving Moment

Posted on 27. Nov, 2009 by kchristieh in my life

Our third best Thanksgiving moment came when my nephew decided he wanted ramen instead of the more traditional turkey dinner. He also chose an Otter Pop instead of pumpkin pie.

The top two moments were when my brother-in-law said a beautiful grace before the meal began and when we all went around the table and said what we’re thankful for. It’s pretty poignant when people are happy to be alive. We were very grateful to be together.

My life story as Venn diagrams

Posted on 15. Aug, 2009 by kchristieh in my life

My world has expanded and become more and more complicated over the years. The best way to show this is through Venn diagrams.

In 1965, my simple world consisted of my family of four, my friends and my relatives. This was just right for a two-year-old.

When I was in high school in 1980, my world mostly consisted of church group and school. My parents had divorced and remarried, so my family was bigger.

By 1990, I was married and working. I wasn’t in contact with many high school friends, and I was becoming more active in my church and community.

In 1995 I was a stay-at-home mom with a nascent desktop publishing business. I was thrilled that my sister lived nearby.

These days, I overlay email and Facebook onto my diagram. They largely define how much contact I have with people. I’m back in touch with many former co-workers and school friends, mostly because of Facebook. However, there are still a few holdouts in my extended family and community who aren’t on Facebook yet. Hopefully they’ll come on board soon, because it would make it much easier to maintain a closer relationship with them.

Video of my grandparents’ 1936 wedding

Posted on 04. Dec, 2008 by kchristieh in my life, videos

I FINALLY put the four-minute video of my ! My uncle had transferred the movie to a VHS tape for me many years ago, and my stepfather recently transferred the VHS tape to a DVD. I had to import that file to ArcSoft to then export it to the correct format for YouTube. You get the point: this was a long time coming!

May I introduce to you the newly-married couple: Marjorie Dorothea Rose Jaeger and Harold Frederick Christie. They were married at the First Congregational Church in Brooklyn, NY on June 26, 1936. I think they’d only met that February, so it’s a pretty impressive event given that it was pulled together so quickly. I think my grandfather asked my grandmother to marry him after knowing her for only two weeks. Maybe that’s where I get my quick decision-making from. They were married until my grandmother died in the beginning of 1994.

I wish I knew who all the other people in the video were, and what they’re saying. Both of their fathers had passed away by this point, but I can’t figure out which ones are their mothers. It’s so neat to see everyone looking so happy. I wish I could have known them.NOTE: It gets blurry for a few seconds as they walk down the aisle, but it re-emerges at the reception.

If you could have a new life, would you?

Posted on 24. Mar, 2008 by kchristieh in life lessons

Ian Usher’s sick of his life. He misses his wife of 12 years, and everything around him reminds him of happier times. Instead of ending his life, he’s decided to sell it. That’s right: you can buy his house, his furnishings, and his motorbike. The buyer will have the opportunity to interview for his job and hang out with his friends.

When I say everything is included in the sale I mean EVERYTHING is included! Upon completion and settlement I will walk out of my home for the last time in just the clothes I am wearing, and carrying only my wallet and passport.

My current thoughts are to then head to the airport, and ask at the flight desk where the next flight with an available seat goes to, and to get on that and see where life takes me from there!

I wish him the best, and I’m glad he’s not doing something more drastic like committing suicide. But I’m concerned for Ian: if he’s willing to ditch the life he’s made for himself, will the next one he creates be much better? He sounds very rational on his website, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s taken the time to do some self-introspection and figure out if there’s anything he can do to make his next life better.

This reminds me of a story I once heard:

A couple asked their pastor if they’d be happy in their new house. “Do you like your current neighbors and do you have friends here?” he asked. “Yes, we do, and we’ll miss them a lot,” they replied. “Then I’m sure you’ll like your new home.”

Another couple asked the pastor the same question, and he asked them about their current life. “We don’t like our neighbors, and we’ve had a hard time making friends in this town,” they responded. “Then I don’t think you’ll like where you’re moving,” he said.

It’s easy to blame our circumstances on external influences, but usually we should be looking at our own actions and attitudes when examining our lives. Of course, there are bad and good things that can happen to anyone. But the key is usually how we deal with it.

My father-in-law’s about to leave the house he’s lived in for 40 years. It’s full of memories of his wife, who passed away two years ago, and his children, who all live in different states. He’s facing tough choices about what to sell and what to keep. Whatever he does with his material possessions, he’ll still have the love of his family and friends. And after all, that’s what’s important.

When I grow up, I want to be like either Grandpa or Zelda Kaplan

Posted on 14. Jul, 2007 by kchristieh in articles, inspirational people, my life

I visited my 93-year-old grandfather and my 83-year-old stepgrandmother at their house in the Poconos this week. Yes, they live in their own house, without assistance, drive a minivan, cook for themselves, etc. etc. They even mow their own grass with a non-electric mower and my grandfather shovels the snow in the winter. My grandfather is pictured at right. I hope I got whatever genes might help me to be so active at that age.

Even so, I don’t plan on living in such a cold, remote place at 93. Instead, perhaps I’ll be like Zelda Kaplan. This 91-year-old New Yorker travels the world campaigning against marital violence, and designs her own outfits from native fabrics she collects along the way.

I may not ever be the party animal she is (she reputedly stays out until 4 am at NY’s hottest nightspots), but I sure hope to have as much energy and zest for life. In my case, I hope I’m still learning new programming languages at that age.

Keep on going, Grandpa & Zelda!

The picture at right is from this month’s Real Simple magazine, p. 202. You can learn more about Zelda at her personal website and from this article.

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How to make palacinky

Posted on 15. Apr, 2007 by kchristieh in food, international, my life

My cousin Beth, her husband Milos, and their three wonderful children visited us from NJ this week. We had a great time at Disneyland and a fun day hanging out at our pool.

Milos was kind enough to teach my son and I how to make palacinky. Milos grew up in Czechoslovakia, and learned how to make some yummy Czech specialties from his grandmother. Milos says palacinky are Czech pancakes; they remind me more of crepes. They’re not too hard to make, and they’re definitely worth the effort. I think my son will be a sought-after roommate someday if he treats his friends to these!

Ingredients:

• 1 cup flour
• 1 cup milk
• 1 egg (another recipe I found says 2 eggs)
• dash salt
• butter
• sugar, fruit, jelly, cottage cheese (all optional)

Directions:

1. Mix flour, milk, egg, salt. Add more milk if it isn’t liquidy enough.
2. Melt enough butter to cover a non-stick frying pan. Milos held the stick of butter and rubbed it on the pan.
3. Pour ladleful of liquid onto pan, and spread around.
4. When it starts to bubble at the edge, lift up the edge and see if it’s hardening. If so, swish the pan around to make sure the pancake doesn’t stick.
5. Holding the pan away from the stove, tilt the pan so that the pancake moves to the edge of the pan. Then, by moving the pan sharply, flip the pancake. (This REALLY makes you look like a pro. My 13-year-old son mastered it after one flip.)
6. Repeat step 5 until the pancake is lightly browned on both sides.
7. Serve with fruit, cottage cheese, sugar, jam, or whatever else you prefer.

If I master this, I’ll try French crepes. Milos also taught us how to make fudge from scratch, and whipped cream. Maybe I’ll include that recipe soon…

So you wanna be in pictures?

Posted on 03. Jan, 2007 by kchristieh in international, my life, politics, technical

All you need is a cellphone or a camera! Take time out for a moment and think about how amazing it is that an Iraqi took a cellphone video of Saddam’s execution, and almost immediately people all over the world were able to see it.

I took some short videos with my new digital camera this past weekend, and they turned out well enough to post on YouTube. My grandparents (yes, that’s my children’s GREAT-grandparents!) were able to watch the video clips nearly 3,000 miles away within hours.

I generally think it’s a good thing: the more information people have, the closer the world can become and the better decisions people can make. Imagine if there’d been cellphone videos at Tiananmen Square in 1989…or at so many world events or where injustice has occurred. Hopefully it’ll keep people and governments more honest.

Now if only there were cellphones in North Korea…

Too many cups, too little time

Posted on 25. Dec, 2006 by kchristieh in food, my life

Ingenious idea of the day: I made two sheets like the one to the right, with each person’s name who’s visiting under a picture of a wreath. I put the sheets in plastic sleeves, and put them on the kitchen counter. When people aren’t holding their cups and plan on having more to drink, they put them on their wreath.

This was done out of necessity: we have seven extra people staying with us this week, and I was washing way too many cups.

Look out, Martha Stewart!

The best time machine I’ve ever seen

Posted on 29. Sep, 2006 by kchristieh in articles, cool websites, my life, sports

Yesterday the New York Times sent me an email saying that their archives from 1851 – 1980 are now online. I had a blast searching for old names and dates. Here are a few things I’ve found so far:

• Birth announcements of babies that were born the exact same day and year that I was. The freakiest thing is to do a Zoominfo search on them and find out what they’re doing today.
• A wedding announcement that shows that one grandfather was the best man for his cousin’s wedding on March 7, 1941. I never even knew this cousin existed!
• I got tears in my eyes when I found articles about girls joining Little League in Tenafly, NJ in 1974. I was one of those girls.
• An August, 1937 article saying that my mom’s father was awarded an assistant teaching position at Fordham, and a June, 1952 article announcing that he was promoted in the advertising department at a pharmaceutical company.
• My grandmother’s brother’s obituary from 1971.
• A July, 1898 story about the sinking of La Bourgogne. It says the only passenger listed as dead that survived was Charles Duttweiler. Any relation to my stepfather? Some of the surviving passengers alleged that the French crew made sure they got lifeboats, leaving women and children to perish.

I’m sure there are many more amazing things I’ll find in the archives. I wonder if there’s an obituary for microfilm?

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream

Posted on 04. Aug, 2006 by kchristieh in my life

(That’s a quote from Edgar Allen Poe.)

Why do we try to interpret dreams? I think it’s because they’re often as intense as they are unusual, and seem like they must come from somewhere.

Last night I dreamed that I was in our old Pasadena house with all five of my children’s living grandparents. I went to the kitchen sink, and a giant owl and its child showed up at the kitchen window. I touched the window near the owls’ beaks, and they touched the window back. Then, the adult owl flew away, and then came back again. Of course, I kept calling for others to come see, but they didn’t make it in time. Finally, the adult owl flew away. I kept tapping on the glass for the child owl, but all of a sudden it jumped back, turned into a flat surface, and disintegrated.

Then my alarm went off, so that’s why I remember it so well.

Of course, when I looked up “owl in dreams” on Google, there were over 1.8 million entries. (My 6 am workout buddies were amazed that I did this before I saw them this morning!) The results are conflicting:

The owl is the archetype of wisdom in many cultures’ parables. The owl is often a sign of longevity, as well as knowledge. This knowledge pertains especially to the future and the mysteries of the night. You may be seeking such knowledge or be receiving an oracle hinting that you may be in possession of such knowledge.

————-

As per Indian thought, to see or hear an owl in your dreams portends ill luck and is considered inauspicious. If you see such a dream you are warned to be very careful. You could fall ill or lose money. Your reputation could also suffer and you could land up in an embarrassing situation. Should you see a dead owl, it is a good omen as it means that you have narrowly missed the ill fate which was coming your way.

As per western thought, to hear the hooting of an owl warns you of an unexpected death. If you see such a dream you are warned to take appropriate precautions. Some bad tidings concerning loved ones far away could follow such a dream. Seeing a dead owl denotes a narrow escape from illness or death. To see an owl in your dreams warns you of enemies who are working secretly to malign your character.

————-

To see an owl in your dream, symbolizes wisdom, insight and virtue. The owl is also synonymous with death and darkness.

To hear the hoot of an owl, denotes disappointments and forewarns that death creeps closely in the wake of joy and health.

To see a dead owl, signifies a narrow escape from desperate illness and death. Death in this sense may also represent a symbolic death, as in an important transition in life.

So, either I’m wise, or unlucky, or someone’s about to die, or someone will narrowly escape death. Or, none of the above, if dreams don’t mean anything.

There was a fascinating article in yesterday’s Wall St. Journal by Jeffrey Zaslow entitled, “For Many Bereaved Families, ‘Visits’ From Late Loved Ones Provide Solace.” Many people cherish visits from deceased loved ones in their dreams, and sometimes those “visits” even help the living to resolve certain issues. I can sympathize, as dreams can seem very real.

I feel sorry for people that don’t remember their dreams. It’s as if they’re missing out on part of their lives.

Cooperstown Dreams Park: Fields of Dreams

Posted on 25. Jul, 2006 by kchristieh in my life, sports, travel

I spent last week in a bubble. While war raged in the Middle East and heat scorched the rest of the country, I watched my 12-year-old son’s baseball team play eight hard-fought games against teams from across the U.S. in Cooperstown, NY. No internet access, no cell phone reception at my B&B, and sometimes even no NY Times (yes, there were days that the local markets in this NY village didn’t get their deliveries!). Just baseball, baseball, baseball! (and Twain, see below)

For 11 weeks each summer, 96 baseball teams come to play a tournament at the Cooperstown Dreams Park. This complex has 22 well-maintained fields, barracks that fit all 1,400 kids (mostly boys) and their coaches, batting cages, parking lots, concession stands, etc. etc. 11 x 96 = 1,056 teams that play each summer. They told us during opening ceremonies that an additional 3,100 teams apply to come but there isn’t space for them. Our town has been sending a team since the park opened in 1995.

The first seven games the kids play determine their berth in the playoffs. My son’s team won four and lost three, so they were seeded 43rd and got a “bye” for their first playoff game. They lost the second game 8-7.

My son said that trying to win games was only 20% of the fun. The other 80% was hanging out with the boys and visiting the Baseball Hall of Fame and Cooperstown village. The boys, their parents and the coaches were absolutely terrific, and we all had a great time. My bed & breakfast, Whisperin’ Pines Chalet, was wonderful. My room was huge, and the people that ran it, Chris and Erin Doucas, were friendly and they were great cooks. It was also only a few minutes from the fields, and was reasonably priced.

My father and stepmother drove up for several days, and my stepsister drove out from Boston for a day. My grandfather and stepgrandmother even drove up from the Poconos! Other relatives were able to watch some games on the webcam.

We’re really glad we went. It was truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience. My son’s already wondering if he’ll go someday with his kid…hope he does!

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Back from the Hernandez reunion

Posted on 20. Jun, 2006 by kchristieh in my life

If we had a reunion of either side of my family, we’d be lucky to have 20 people. I just returned from a reunion of my father-in-law’s side of the family, and it had about 200. And lots of people didn’t make it! It was held east of Wichita, Kansas, in the community center of a small town called Augusta.

Everyone at the reunion (other than spouses) descended from my husband’s paternal grandparents, Rafaila Ramirez and Felix Hernandez, who immigrated here at the beginning of the century from Jalisco, Mexico. One of the relatives said they got married because Rafaila had been “promised” to Felix as a child.

Rafaila had 19 pregnancies, 16 live births and 10 kids that survived toddlerhood. Of those, eight are still living, and range in age from approximately 62 – 93. Here’s a picture of the eight siblings:

The “master of ceremonies” (Molly’s son, Jim) interviewed them and asked them what it was like growing up in Wichita. They said they were whipped in school for speaking Spanish. It’s no wonder my husband was never taught Spanish by his parents!

Everyone was really welcoming, and the food (mostly Mexican entrees and Midwestern pie desserts!) was fabulous. Some of the relatives were very talented Karaoke singers, and a few others gave a bellydancing demonstration. (!!!) I didn’t sing any Karaoke, since I figured my kids would kill me if I did.

I’m really glad we went.

It’s Family Reunion Time!

Posted on 16. Jun, 2006 by kchristieh in my life, travel

We leave this morning for Augusta, Kansas, for the Hernandez Family Reunion. We’re looking forward to meeting lots of new relatives. The kids in particular can’t wait: they’ve never met anyone from that side of the family, and they’re desperately hoping there are kids their ages, since all of the cousins they know are much younger than them.

I looked up what’s happening in Augusta this weekend, and there’s an Open House at the Augusta Air Museum. Hopefully we’ll get a chance to go before the reunion, and participate in the Hand Grenade Throw and Rocket Toss. I kid you not! Augusta also has a gorgeous historic theater. Maybe we can see “Cars” there with the kids!

Some of my kids’ friends have been to places like Europe and Thailand, but not Kansas or New Jersey. Too bad – they’re missing seeing great parts of their own country!