Farewell for now, Grandpa Dixon

Forest's grandfather, Grandpa Dixon, passed away last week at the age of 95. Although I once heard him say he hoped to live to 100, I believe he is happy to move on and be reunited with his wife, daughter, and parents.

I didn't get to know this man the way Forest or Parry did, but I do have some memories of brief moments I was able to talk with him.

The first time I met Grandpa Dixon was on our wedding day. He was 92 and still going strong.
The next day when I saw him at our reception, he looked at me and said, "So--you survived the night."
The only other time I saw Grandpa Dixon was at his Idaho farm in May 2008. Forest and I stopped to visit him on our way to Portland for an internship. He was 93 and still going strong.

I got to meet his new foal, Cookie . . .
. . . and snap a photo of the two Forests, side by side. Grandpa was given the name Forest at birth, but told us he added an extra R to his name later because he thought it looked more "distinguished."
Before we left, we cooked him dinner, and I baked a loaf of bread in his oven. As I was preparing the dough, I remember he looked at me, kind of incredulously, and asked, "You're going to make real bread? From yeast? No one does that anymore. You're a good woman."

Last Wednesday we got a phone call about Grandpa Dixon's death. His health had been declining these past few months, so the news did not come as a surprise. Still, I think I will always remember him as that rock-solid Idaho grandpa, going strong as long as he could.

With Parry's help, we arranged to fly out West for the funeral. Forest, Ramona and I arrived in Salt Lake City on Friday to meet up with family. As always, it was enjoyable to see the cousins together and watch as Aubrey attempted to carry Ramona around.
Saturday we woke up early for our drive to Idaho--back to Grandpa's old farm in Jerome. We arrived with plenty of time for Ramona to play with four-wheelers, . . .
. . . play with cousins, . . .

. . . play with Grandpa Parry (whom she currently calls Pacca), . . .
. . . and take a quick nap before the funeral service.

Soon after we put her down for this nap, however, we heard that Crissy's van doors were mysteriously opening and closing on their own. That was when we realized that Ramona had been holding the van keys before we left. Then we found out that the van doors were completely locked with no way to get in--except for the keys in Ramona's hand. Apparently the last button she pushed before she fell asleep was "lock."
I got the job of sneaking in the room and extracting the keys from her so everyone could get their stuff out of the van and get ready for the funeral. It seemed like an easy enough task, but I was gone for at least ten minutes before figuring out that Ramona was actually sitting on the keys. I can't believe she stayed asleep the whole time I was searching.

This is what Pacca looked like most of the weekend: At the mercy of both granddaughters.
After the funeral, it was time to play on the farm again. Ramona was delighted to feed hay to horses, one of which was Cookie--now all grown up.



Maria pulled out her camera and captured some some memorable images that evening. Here is one of the window on Grandpa Dixon's favorite sunroom:
And here is one of a scenic Idaho sunset:
A photo of the Parry branch of Grandpa Dixon's posterity:
I think he would have liked this picture of his great-granddaughter Ramona--don't you?
Sunday morning we went for one last walk on the farm.


One last look at the horses,
and one last romp in the dirt,
before a nap-ful drive back to Utah
One last bedtime story from Aunt Maria,
before our flight back to Iowa.

We miss you, Grandpa Dixon.

HOPpy Halloween

Once there was a little girl who loved bunnies. She made a wish that one day she could hop, hop, hop just like a bunny.

Then she found out about a special day once a year when children could be whatever they wanted to be.
So, when that day came, her wish came true--for just a little while she turned into a bunny.
(and, consequently, her mother turned into a carrot)
The little bunny hopped out of the house,
with her white cotton tail,
and found other children whose wishes had also come true.

One friend had turned into a duck,
and another had turned into a puppy,
while yet another had turned into a butterfly.
All the happy children came home at the end of the day with buckets full of candy--yet another dream come true!

Happy Halloween.

Pear Sorbet

Of all the seasonal fruits for this time of year, perhaps the most suitable for ice cream is the pear.

Pear Sorbet

Ingredients:
-4 medium bartlett pears (about 1.5 1b), peeled, cored, and chopped
-1 cup water
-3/4 cup sugar
-1/8 teaspoon guar gum
-1/4 cup light corn syrup
-splash of lemon juice (optional)

1. Combine water, sugar, guar gum, and corn syrup in a small saucepan. Stir together with whisk.
2. Heat mixture over medium heat until bubbling, then lower heat and stir until it reaches a syrup-like consistency. Allow mixture to cool.
3. Purree pears, adding a splash of lemon juice to preserve color, if desired.
4. Combine purree with syrup and chill for four hours.
5. Freeze in ice cream maker according to manufacturer instructions.

the pit stop of Iowa

Although our neck of the woods is by no means the most glamorous location in the midwest, I am pleased with the number of visitors we've been able to bribe our way during the four months we've lived in Cedar Rapids.

Aside from our parents making special trips to come out and see their granddaughter, we've also convinced a few people to take a detour off of Interstate 80 when they were actually on their way someplace else.

We got to see Aunt Crissy, Cousin Aubrey, and Cousin Connor twice in August when they stopped on their way between Utah and Illinois. Ramona and Aubrey were absolutely giddy to see each other.

Even Uncle Scott and Uncle Ammon took their respective pit stops at the Dixon residence during their recent travels, although there exists no photographic evidence of these visits.

A visit from Grandma Carol in September left a memorable impression on Ramona--she was talking about her for days.

A visit from Grandpa Parry last week included planting some bulbs for next Spring.
Ramona helped with the tulips.
And, a visit from Ojii and Obaachan this past weekend left Ramona with a massive pile of new books and our camera with this family photo:
Come back and visit, soon!

Harvest: small but sweet

This summer I half-lamented about not being able to put in a garden in time. Our move was at the end of June, somewhat past ideal planting season, so we could only hope for success with potted herbs.

About a week into July, I came across an opened packet of cantaloupe seeds from the previous year. Summer 2009 had been much too wet and cold for an amateur melon garden in Illinois, leaving us discouraged about the thought of ever attempting melons again, but I decided to take a chance on this old packet of seeds, a sunny spot in our yard, and the remaining Iowa summer. By September the melons were still not ripe, and it was looking as though the first frost might come and wipe out the plants before any were ready.

One day last week I was working on some cabinet doors on the deck while Ramona played in the yard. When I suggested that she check on the melons, she went over to our melon patch, picked one right off the vine, and brought it to me. I told Forest later that Ramona harvested our first melon, and he jokingly accused me of child labor.
We have since harvested several more, and found that they are actually pretty tasty, despite our wariness in trying the first bite. Perhaps we put our garden in in time, after all.

Scooby is here

It was time for the Dixons to purchase a new vehicle. Forest planned to use the old '97 Accord for his work commute, saying the next car would be all mine for excursions in the Iowa winter. Now, my whole life I've never really had my "own" car--but here it is: a light green minivan.
We actually had it delivered to us from a trusted dealer in Salt Lake City without test-driving it or even seeing it, so it truly was a bit of a mystery machine until we got it. I can't complain about the amount of space it offers, and Ramona enjoys it so much she threw a fit the first time I took her out of it. Welcome to the family, Scooby-van.