THE LOWE FAMILY NEWSLETTER : VOLUME 79 OCTOBER 2012

Dear Readers,

I spent the last few days of September in Torrence , the suburb of LA where Marc lives in his one bedroom condo. I suspect it was not the idyllic break from the routine of caregiving that my other seven children had envisioned for their mother when they suggested the trip. Firstly I had to drive through rush hour traffic and road construction delays to the airport to park in the long term parking lot and take the airport bus to my terminal – under the watchful eye of Coryn who insisted that I needed to learn how to negotiate the airport parking system so that my children would no longer need to drop me off and pick me up. This successfully achieved I boarded my plane and arrived at LAX about twenty minutes ahead of schedule. I found my way to the outside of the terminal and looked in vain forMarc's black BMW. I whipped out my cell phone to find out why he wasn't there to greet his beloved Mother. He was amazed that I was already on the ground. I was amazed that he had not used flight tracker to track me. He assured me that he was just minutes away. More than minutes later Marc drove up but had to double park so that I could get in his car. He was almost ticketed for double parking and worse actually exiting the car to help me throw my suitcase in the trunk when I failed to understand his grunts and hand signals from the driver's seat. Once we pulled out into the main flow of traffic it was very stop and go -because as I soon realized -we were in the bus lane. Marc was oblivious, stomping on the gas and brake pedals creating more turbulence for me than Southwest. I suggested that we might want to change lanes but he insisted that he needed to stay right in order to make a turn – a mile or two up the road....

It was about nine at night when I arrived so I expected to be driven straight to Marc's place but he suggested dinner at a nearby restaurant. This was my first introduction to Marc's parking phobia. We drove into a parking garage with a multitude of empty spots but Marc refused to consider any spot that required him to park next to or between cars. He said he liked lots of space around him when he parked. Eventually he found a space in its Siberian section and I wished I had worn tennies instead of heels as we walked some distance to the restaurant. I felt a slight chill in the air but Marc elected to take a table for two out on the patio. I ordered a glass of wine to warm me up which went very well with my delicious healthy Californian style fish dinner. Before leaving for home Marc informed me that we would be making a couple of stops as he needed to check his mailbox and stop at the organic health food store for some breakfast foods. He has bought into all this organic crap, paying twice as much to eat a lot of foods that are exactly the same as their covered in pesticide and filled with antibiotic counterparts. Just wash the chemicals off and be glad that your penicillin chicken must have had a clean bill of health. I remember years ago when Judy Johnson was driving all the way to the Quad Cities to pick up her antibiotic free turkey for Thanksgiving. I looked horrified and said I'd be worried sick about the kind of germs that might be lurking in it's juices. I think this gave her something to ponder.

Finally we arrived at Marc's home and parked in his assigned garage space:this required several maneuvers as he has to park between two cars. I offered to park it for him. Then we walked past his communal swimming pool in a lovely tropical garden setting and into his home. I was greeted by a rickety cheap plastic shoe rack with more lean than the tower of Pisa; as an accent piece he had a bright red plastic mop bucket. He balanced out the other side of his entrance way with four paper grocery bags holding his recyclable trash. I noticed his “grandma tablecloth” on his dinning room table, his chipped pink tile counters in the kitchen, the worn fifties style kitchen cabinets and the ghastly floor tile. A complete gut job.The living room was a very nice size and opened onto a very “I can do something with this patio”. Unfortunately the ambiance of this room was ruined by it's being open to another room which could be used for many purposes if Marc replaced the flimsy accordion style door for dry wall and a real door. He could have a second bedroom with an already built in closet and window that could double as a home office but no: Marc uses this valuable piece of real-estate as unnecessary storage. A metal storage shelf is piled high with boxes that he anticipates needing for shipping. Has anyone ever received a care package from Marc? I informed him that his boxes would provide enough roughage for an army of paper loving bugs. We moved onto the bathroom – the same blue fixtures as our student house in Cedar Falls. Marc has certainly not strayed far from his humble student housing. His bedroom was a tangled mess ; miles of electrical cords for his electronics and a bed that looked as if it had been tossed to the curb.. Marc offered me a choice of his bed or the blowup mattress. I took the mattress set up on the floor behind the sofa in his 'spare room'. At least I knew the sheets were clean.

Thursday morning while munching our organic muffins Marc informed me that he had to go to work as he had a couple of trials fast approaching. I offered to go along but that offer was quickly refused. Marc suggested I take a bus to the beach or walk to the mall just blocks away . After Marc left I decided to take a shower. With my glasses on I noticed that all the grout in the bathroom was black – closer inspection revealed it was also very thick and fuzzy in some areas where it actually spread down the tub. I called Marc to find out where he kept his bleach and a spare toothbrush. He assured me that he had Kaboomed the bathroom just before I came. I dread to think how bad it must have been before his ineffectual cleanup effort. I filled the tub with ankle high water so that I could stand in diluted bleach water at least as I applied straight bleach with a toothbrush to all the grout and door surrounds. An hour later I was gulping for air out of the bathroom window and decided to take a break before tackling the sink and toilet.

Still showerless and in my night gown I decided to check my E-mail so I booted up Marc's computers in his bedroom – surprised that he had shut them down. It took me awhile to figure out which computer went with which screen and the one keyboard. Eventually I was online but finding the connection very slow. On my way to the kitchen for more coffee I spotted an Ipad on a coffee table – time for my favorite game – Angry Birds. Back to the bathroom and an hour later I was in the bleached to the bones bathroom, gagging on fumes as I used some girly shampoo that Marc claimed Bryn had left after a visit.

Lunchtime found me munching salt and vinegar potato chips, and a handful of pistachio nuts. Marc's fridge and pantry were bare. I decided to eat on the patio and soon found myself thinking that the this was definitely the best place to be – sitting on his Martha Stewart's line of out door furniture, enjoying the ambiance. Before long I realized that Marc had his furniture poorly arranged so I was soon pulling his wooden loveseat into it's new spot, arranging the other two chairs and shared ottoman and the coffee tables into a better configuration for the space .For my efforts I was rewarded with a wasp sting. While rubbing ice on my sting ,I noticed that Marc's plants needed pruning. I grabbed his kitchen shears and viola I had created twice the space.

Mid afternoon I walked to the mall for a couple of hours and found lots of things I hoped Marc would see as must have purchases to upgrade his home. Home again, I spied a laptop computer on a bookshelf and took it outside on the patio to play' Words with Friends' with Ethan in England – with whom I think I spent more time that day than Marc! I was interrupted when Marc called me around five thirty to inform me that he would be arriving home for dinner with a roasted chicken in about an hour so I needed to make some rice and green beans to compliment his contribution. Mother muttered and pulled out the rice cooker.

After dinner Marc suggested a walk around the neighborhood with a stop by a bakery for dessert. The idea of something gooey, sinful and chocolatey was enough persuasion for me to run for my tennis shoes. The price of this treat was very dear : two huge red blisters on my heels as my new style socks were too short for my shoes .I wore sandals for the rest of my stay.

Marc was very upset when he realized that I had been using all his computers – he said they were all password protected – not if you use the guest option Marc. That's the price you pay for leaving me alone all day! Friday I explored the neighborhood and cleaned and rearranged some more. In the evening Marc took me on a scenic coastal drive and we walked along the cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean. I pointed out the millions of dollars mansions that I thought would be ideal for Marc and me when I move to California. A good mother does her best to motivate her children.

Marc took me to dinner at( yes you guessed it) a Mexican restaurant. Marc has always had an appetite for foods that challenge his digestive system. We had to wait for a table: fortunately they had seating for waiters (no pun intended) which gave me time to rest my legs from the hike from the parking lot he had picked several blocks away. The noisy crowd made conversation impossible – another reason I'm sure for Marc's choice. I drowned a Margarita with my lobster taco's.

Saturday Marc offered to drive me to the Pasadena Botanical Gardens but since my visit coincided with 'carmagenddon' 2 I declined his kind offer. Marc estimated the drive to be a couple of hours each way without factoring in the detour. Any one who has had the misfortune to drive with Marc knows that this could be a death sentence. Instead we spent the day cleaning his out door furniture - more bleach – and applying a water sealer. We went to the hardware store and got some new pots and a pump to put together a water feature.

Marc had a papyrus plant stuffed into a too small container so I suggested we repot it and set it inside a bigger pot and turn it into a water feature. Off we went to buy a what I thought was a fountain pump that was actually intended as an out of water aquarium pump. I confidently cut plastic tubing to the desired length and attached it to the pump which I plugged in and submerged into our water filled pot. A few gurgles and nothing. I pulled it out and checked to look for an on /off switch. Marc was reading the instructions ( something I never bother to do) and screamed for me to get it out of the water and unplug it. He then showed me the diagram illustrating it's use only outside an aquarium. He said it was amazing that I hadn't been electrocuted. I countered by pointing out that he had been saved from making seven calls to his siblings to explain my untimely electrocution on his patio. I said you would all disown him – he retorted that you would all give him a medal!

For lunch on Saturday Marc produced a bag of smelts( a childhood favorite of his) from his freezer for me to fix for lunch while he prepared the vegetables. We consumed the lot in one sitting. Later that afternoon Marc suggested tea in one of Torrence's down town cafes. I was envisioning potted ferns, white wrought iron furniture with floral chintz cushions with violin music in the background.

Once again Marc parked a couple of blocks away from our destination despite there being open parking spaces in front of the business. Outside the cafe were umbrella tables with a mish mash of chairs and the inside was filled with sagging sofa's and armchairs that looked older than me. All these seats were taken so we went outside with our drinks and pastries to a dirty table that our waitress was too busy to clean so I sent Marc in for napkins and waved away battalions of flies. Nasty.

Sunday morning Marc drove me to his workplace and called a cab to take me from there to LAX. He claimed he couldn't deal with all the traffic again. My taxi driver thought it hilarious that my thirty year old son was too chicken to drive into LAX on a Sunday morning saying it was the least hectic time of the week: indeed it was very calm.

Special thanks go to Ming Lee for flying in after I departed on Wednesday night to spend Thursday and Friday with his dad. He said the most challenging thing was giving Delilah her pills. Apparently she spit them out every time he managed to get them in her mouth. He finally drilled holes in cat treats, popped the pill in and watched her swallow the bait .Coryn and Jeremy plus the boys all pitched in over the weekend until I returned.

My next news letter will detail my recent trip to Ming and Lori's. Here is a teaser for you:I will be flush with details of another bathroom disaster.

Ming-Jon will be arriving this weekend, Coryn and Jeremy have moved into their beautiful Raintree Lake house and Josh has quit his job once again to return to volunteer work in the rain forests of South America. Apparently Leslee, Craig, Bryn and Sean are planning to meet up with him for a sight seeing trek to Machu Picchu. Hopefully I will one day be able to join my children in their explorations abroad. I'd love to zip line, walk with big cats and hike the rain forests. Hopefully some one would be able to carry my back pack for me and arrange it so our nights would be spent in hotels with indoor plumbing and air conditioning.

Don't forget to vote for Obama on Tuesday, love your I need my medicare and social security and not a voucher Mom.

mother's 'bedroom' at Marc's