Reconnecting with la familia Flores

My mom, Theresa, and sisters Cathy (left) and Rosemary

Three weekends ago I flew down to the Bay Area, stayed overnight at my mom's, then drove her and myself down to the sleepy little agricultural town of Gonzales, California. The occasion? The first-ever Flores Family Reunion.

Don't know why it took so long for the Flores family to come together, considering that my dad's side of the family has been meeting annually for 33 years. That it did, and that it came off so well, is a tribute to my niece Bernie and cousin Lisa, who did most of the planning. (I'm cringing as I write that sentence, not wishing to overlook anyone's contribution.)

I didn't plan to write about the reunion immediately, knowing I'd dive back into work and a busy social calendar this month. But with July just about ready to give way to August, it's time to get down to business.

My Aunt Lupe

First, the details.
The reunion was held on Saturday, July 9, at the American Legion Hall, home of Post 81. We had a catered lunch/dinner featuring Mexican food, of course, and played table games and a little bit of music. We took plenty of photographs and mostly just hung out. The event continued with a Sunday Mass and everyone said their goodbyes in the church parking lot.

So, who was there?
Approximately 75 people, more than I anticipated. Most were from California and many of those live within 30 minutes of Gonzales, which is in Monterey County, about 50 miles south of San Jose. There were three of the original nine Flores siblings -- my mom, one aunt, one uncle -- both of my sisters, lots of cousins, plenty of spouses and significant others, and several grandchildren.

Who came the farthest?
My younger sister Cathy flew in from Alaska, my cousin Julie from Chicago and I came down from Portland, as noted. Each of us got a prize..

Cousin Lisa

So, what were the highlights?
It was nice to see my godmother, Lupe, the oldest of the nine siblings at age 88, and my uncle Junior (named after the family patriarch, Julian), the only surviving brother. I looked forward to meeting Bernie's husband, Terrell (as I couldn't attend their wedding a few years ago), and I was not disappointed. He's quieter than I imagined (though I'm told he can get crazy like anyone else) and a real gentleman. Plus, being together with both my sisters was a rare treat. My older sister, Rosemary, lives near San Diego, so we're really spread out along the West Coast.

Any surprises?
Honestly, no. Well, yes. Until I reviewed the details of a family tree that was assembled for the occasion, I didn't realize that my cousin Bobby had produced children, starting at age 14, with four different women, some married and some not. More than one person noted, tongue in cheek, that he could have had his own family reunion.

Niece Bernie and husband Terrell

Any disappointments?
One, that we couldn't have done this sooner. Though three siblings attended, a fourth one, my Aunt Toni, was unable to be there because of health issues. Sadder still, three aunts and two uncles have already passed away. One set of four cousins was entirely unrepresented. Two, that Lori couldn't have been with me. As we considered our summer schedule and household budget, we agreed it made sense for just me to attend. As things turned out, Lori wound up visiting our daughter Simone at the same time in Pittsburgh. If another reunion is held, I would hope the two of us could both attend.

Best thing about the reunion?
Just being around family again. Living in Oregon for 35 (make that 36) years has meant infrequent trips to California, where most of our relatives on both sides live. Getting enough time (it's a two-day car trip each way) and coming up with enough money (hard to do when you have three children) to pay for it all isn't easy.

Being there solo meant I could spend as much time as I liked with everyone, renewing relationships and catching up on family. It also meant I could match names and faces with younger cousins (some of whom, I realized, are 20 years or so younger than me), as well as my older cousins' children and grandchildren and their spouses.

Cousin Ralph, my "twin"

Anything else?
There was a poignant moment when my mom and I were driving down U.S. 101, past the agricultural fields at the north end of the Salinas Valley, a 90-mile stretch that's known as "America's salad bowl." From the passenger's seat, she pointed out the window to where she and her sisters picked strawberries, lettuce and other crops as young girls. She'll be 84 this fall. We've had our ups and downs, like so many other parent-child relationships, but I will never stop admiring how far she and my dad (remarried and living in New Mexico) have come despite never attending high school, and appreciating all they did to give my sisters and me greater opportunities than they had.

Final thoughts?
Sharing a common heritage -- Mexican and proud of it -- and being in a roomful of people who accept you and embrace you without judgment are two wonderful things. I don't take either for granted. At times, I wish I lived closer to many of my relatives. At the same time, I can't say I would change any of the big life decisions which brought me north and have kept me here. California has its attractions, but Oregon is the place where Lori and I have raised our family and sunk our roots.

Que viva la familia Flores!

Bird Bath

Julie gave me this lovely bird bath and I just love how it makes my front garden look like, well, a garden (as opposed to the sun-baked island that it really is).

Making Every Promise Empty

(HERE)

Vestidos de gasa blancos

Las mujeres buscamos a la hora de vestir que sean cómodos, elegantes, discretos y que nos hagan lucir espectaculares que mejor que estos hermosos vestidos de gasa blancos.

Son perfectos para llevar a una fiesta de coctel, en la playa o simplemente para lucirlos en día caluroso, los vestidos de gasa blancos nos dan ese toque de elegancia y buen gusto.

Los vestidos de gasa blancos no quedan perfectos a todo tipo de mujeres ya que permiten lucir piernas vernos mas esbeltas y estilizadas las piernas.

Si buscas elegancia y buen diseño nada mejor que estos vestidos de gasa blancos son ideales para cualquier evento.

Si quieres lucir fresca y a la moda con los vestidos de gasa blancos lo conseguirás, animate a usar un modelo como este no te arrepentirás.

George Ramos: A pioneer, a friend and mentor

George Ramos

Half a lifetime ago, I was a young reporter at the Statesman Journal in Salem and still adjusting to the lack of diversity in my newsroom and my adopted state. I had moved to Oregon after college, confident the change of place from my native California would be good for both my career and personal growth.

At the time, racial minorities (we weren't yet referred to as people of color) accounted for just under 6 percent of all full-time staffers in the newsrooms of daily U.S. newspapers, compared to 12.79 percent today.

Back then, Latinos were largely invisible, both in Oregon and nationally, despite the great immigration surge that began in the '80s. So it was a real milestone when the 1984 Pulitzer Prizes were announced. The Los Angeles Times was honored with the Gold Medal for Public Service -- the most prestigious of the Pulitzers -- for a series of articles examining Southern California's growing Latino community.

It was remarkable enough that national attention -- finally -- was focused on the diversity within the Latino community: Mexican-Americans, Mexicans, Peruvians, Colombians, Guatemalans, Nicaraguans, Hondurans, Salvadorans, etc. What was even more amazing was that it was a team of Latino reporters and editors who conceived the project and then went out and reported, photographed and packaged it.

For me and hundreds of other Latino journalists in U.S. newsrooms (I don't think there even a thousand of us yet) it was an inspiring achievement, a validation that the multifaceted Latino experience in the U.S. was an important story and that the work of our fellow Latino and Latina journalists was worthy of journalism's highest honor.

I thought of that groundbreaking series this week -- and of the pioneering men and women who made it happen -- when I learned of the death of one of the key members of that team.

George Ramos, who referred to himself as "just a kid from East L.A.," died July 24. He was 63, just five years older than me. He was a role model of humility and good humor, a guy who smiled often beneath a big mustache and a guy who made time for everyone, no matter if you were a rookie or a veterano. He joked that he was one of three people in California who didn't have a cell phone. Didn't want one.

I could count on seeing George every year at the National Association of Hispanic Journalists annual convention, whether it was in L.A. or New York or some other venue. The year it was held in El Paso, he invited me to join his posse in crossing the border for dinner in Juarez -- back when you didn't have to worry about drug cartel violence. George loved baseball. He loved journalism. And he loved L.A. After he left the paper in 2003, after a quarter-century there as a reporter, editor and columnist, he became the head of the journalism department at Cal Poly-San Luis Obispo, his alma mater, and mentored students with the same tough love he dispensed at NAHJ conventions and in his own newsroom.

It's hard to overstate how much that 1984 Pulitzer meant to all of us Latino journalists. For years I kept a bound copy of the reprinted stories in my desk and would pull them out from time to time to admire the nuanced reporting and the all-important context that the series provided for explaining the mosaic of the Latino community,

Even now, I can recall many of the folks who worked on the series and who, like George, would become friends. In all, 17 reporters and editors worked on the 27-part series. George was co-editor of the project, along with Frank Sotomayor, who recalled him as a "tough-guy reporter with a big heart." A Facebook page created in his honor, Remembering George Ramos, is filled with tributes from those he worked with and those he influenced.


I mourn George's passing. And I salute the everlasting contributions he made to the newspaper industry, the leadership he provided on newsroom diversity, and the inspiration and mentoring he provided to the next generation of Latino journalists.

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Mandy and Todd's Wedding

I'd been holding back on featuring the June wedding I worked on so that Ali, the photographer of the wedding, could work on having it featured on one of the big wedding sites. Well, hold back no more! Mandy and Todd's wedding was featured on Style Me Pretty!

Go here to see the mention on their main page.

And then here to see the wedding in all of its yellow, papaya red and coral glory!

The sewing for this reception was by far the most fun. Yard after yard of fabric (good upholstery fabric no less) went into runners, pillows, and accents. Heaven.  It was a very modern and elegant wedding with the bride handling an impressive amount of the DIY projects.

The entrance table when you entered Greystone featured a vase covered in her signature fabric. The florist, Tulip, was wonderful to work with!

(Note UGA Hairy Dawg in the background. He showed up for dancing, pictures, 

and to remind everyone what school rules!

Mandy had some frames on hand that mimicked the yellow fabric and so we utilized those. 

Here on the gift table.

Even the outside patios got a little fabric accent with these squares.

Adjacent to the dance floor, window seats provided extra seating.

I sewed all the pillows using the yellow signature fabric and a floral one. 

Two pillows, using a coral shade of cotton, sported their B monogram.

I had this designed by Laura Gosnell (who also designed my business cards!). 

I enlarged the monogram on the copier, cut it out and then traced it onto the fabric.

Used acrylic paint mixed in a lovely ivory shade with fabric medium.

Such a great keepsake . . . pillows. 

For the runners on the small tables in front of the window seats, I created geometric ends (to mirror the geometric pattern on the fabric). There's not a picture here, but the giant runner I made for the food table is in her yellow signature fabric. The ends of that runner was the same but instead of square shapes they were circular (again, to match the pattern on the fabric).

I've never used the below birdcage for any event. 

But it was made for this one, as the clover shape in the lattice matches the yellow fabric pattern!

The florist filled the feeders on each side with flowers. So pretty.

It held all the envelope gifts.

The cookie table had a papaya runner, and the cookie jars (straight from Walmart) boasted cardstock signage on  floral fabric that I Mod Podged to the glass.

All photography courtesy of Ali Harper Photography!

Big Ten Media Day Recap

Yesterday was the kickoff to the Big Ten Media Days.  Here are a couple highlights (and lowlights):

BRADY HOKE

Tim at MGo and The Freep have a more detailed recap of Hoke's presser, but here are a couple of my favorites:

*  Hoke doesn't believe in rebuilding:  “I don’t think we’re rebuilding, period. I mean, we’re Michigan.”

*  Hoke on his recruiting success: “This might sound arrogant, and if it is, it is. We’re Michigan. We have a global education. We’re the winningest program in the history of college football.

* Angelique Chengelis of the Detroit News asked Hoke if he will practice something everyday for Ohio State: "Maybe ... (smiles) .... it's important."

APPARENTLY THE NUT DOESN'T FALL FAR FROM THE BUCKEYE TREE

And this is his happy face

The most bizarro comment came from MSU coach and Jim Tressel protege Mark Dantonio who had this to say about the disgraced Tosu* coach:  "Every person he's (Tressel's) come in contact with as a player and a coach, he's made a positive impact on their lives. To me, it's tragic. He becomes a tragic hero in my respect, in my view."

There are a lot of things you can call Jim Tressel (liar and cheater spring to mind) but "hero" is not on the list.  As Michigan radio color analyst and former player Jim Brandstatter tweeted:

When is lying to your boss, to the NCAA heroic. Is it heroic to teach young men that wrong isn't wrong unless you get caught? Gimme a break

Even MSU blog The Only Colors found that one a little, uh, strange:

And uh...yeah.  I understand why Mark Dantonio would make such a comment, he's known Tressel since 1983 and obviously sees the now deposed coach as a mentor.  However, what happened to Tressel was not tragic unless you consider hubris to be a particularly sad way to leave a job.  Tressel lied to the NCAA about players committing violations.  He could've suspended said players, suffer a couple 7-5/8-4 seasons, then continue on with ten-win campaigns in near perpetuity.  However, for whatever reason, Tressel chose the path of deception, and the result is months of free time.  If I'm measuring tragic coach firings on a scale of 1-10, with 10 being how Mike Leach was done at Texas Tech, Jim Tressel is the one.

Then again, you are talking about a coach who thought it was professional to call a college player, Mike Hart, names a couple years ago.  Hart may be small in size, but Dantonio keeps proving to be small in stature.

LUKE FICKELL SWEATS OUT HIS FIRST MEDIA DAY

As even The OZone said, the face of Not-Interim-But-Really-Interim Tosu* coach Luke "The Waterboy" Fickell "glistened" as he addressed the press during his last first Big 10 Media Day.  Glistened?  I thought it was Michael Phelps up there after winning Olympic gold in the 200m Butterfly.

Was he  nervous?  Well, you be the judge.  Below is an exclusive MZone clip of Fickell's presser.

4-6 Weeks: The Time It Takes To Heal Most Sports Injuries Or Receive Delivery Of The Album "Freedom Rock" That Was Ordered Late One Night Off The TV Because Sometimes You Just Have To Turn It Up

It's been an interesting Summer for Mongo in my never ending quest for "Cat 5 Domination". My shoulder injury still hasn't healed completely, and even though I've continued to ride throughout rehab, it gets kinda old after a while when you are constantly in pain every time you get on a bike. This weekend will be six weeks since the crash and unfortunately I think I still have a couple of weeks until I'm 100%.

That being said, Mongo has found himself a new training aid...a 12 pound weighted vest. (Pictured Below)

These things are used by serious athletes for their multitude of uses. What's kind of funny is that they are not recommended for cycling specifically. The added weight benefits the body most when lined up in a linear fashion with the spine. At an angular slant, the increased weight puts added stress on joints and ligaments.

That being said, again...this vest is well balanced, contours to my body, I can wear it under a jersey as to not look like a total dork, and so far it's working out my abs and quads like a "mofo"! My core is definitely getting stronger, as was evident in my solo breakaway win last Saturday at the Cat 6/7 "Enemy Bike Shop" ride, so I think I'll keep using it.

Vestidos de niñas de dos años

Sin lugar a dudas no hay nada mas hermoso que los vestidos de niñas de dos años sobre todo si este es para una ocasión especial una fiesta.

Los vestidos de niñas pueden ser largos cortos a la cintura, corte princesa cualquier diseño o modelo le favorecera a la princesa.

Te recomendamos que si tienes una niña de dos años en casa no dejes de comprarle estos lindos vestidos se vera fabulosa.

Si tienen dudas de que modelo de vestido sera el adecuado para tu hija de dos años ya no sufras este vestido se le vera estupendo.

Animate a comprar este vestido para tu niña, de naturaleza propia somos coquetas desde pequeñas así que este vestido sera perfecto para usarlo.

Damn right I'm a Jim Tressel fan...for $11 bucks!

Our top secret spy behind enemy lines in Columbus, SiC, who sent us the pic earlier this week of the Sugar Bowl shirts on sale, has sent us another.

I guess those Tressel hats ain't fetching what they used to!

P.S. No, I don't have any idea where the hell SiC saw this. Judging by the background, it looks like he was shopping at someone's garage sale.  Then again, this looks like exactly the sort of place that would sell a hat like this.

Some damn good reading

 Jon Huntsman hoisting the hardware at a New Hampshire gun shop.

One of the nice things about finding myself between books is that it gives me a little more time to catch up with magazines and other shorter forms of writing. Here's a quick roundup of what I've read and enjoyed lately:

Republican guy with chance to beat Obama. 
That would be Jon Huntsman, the twice-elected governor of Utah who officially nominated Sarah Palin for vice president in 2008, then served as U.S. ambassador to China. Unlike the rest of the minions scrambling to become the party's nominee in 2012, Huntsman is a rarity: a centrist Republican with legitimate business, political and foreign policy experience. He's fluent in Mandarin Chinese, smart enough to be asked to teach international relations at Penn and, if all the cards fall exactly right, could come out of New Hampshire with enough momentum to surprise Romney, Bachmann and the others.

Chris Jones, writing in Esquire ("Romney doesn't scare Obama. This guy does.") observes:

It's...hard to look at him and not wonder whether he might be coming along right on time. He'll be called a RINO [Republican In Name Only] and a traitor and a nobody in the coming weeks and months, but he'll also be called reasonable and practical and professorial and electable. Even today, so close to the start of everything, his path is clear. He needs to find a broader Republican base, drawing in those right-leaning voters who presently find themselves without a country, fiscal conservatives who don't much care whether two men get hitched or their candidate's wearing a pin in his lapel. His success or failure will be dictated by just how many people like him have been waiting for the storm of paranoid rhetoric to pass, waiting for the return of a party and a candidate who wants to govern rather than rage.

The enduring appeal of baseball.
For anyone who carries a soft spot for baseball -- despite the exorbitant salaries and the watered-down competition that's come with expansion to 28 major league teams -- this love letter by Joe Posnanski in Sports Illustrated is a satisfying read.

"What keeps the grand game great?" the headline reads. "Everything old is new again..."

In his essay, Posnanski says it's the quality of timelessness that explains the sport's appeal across the decades and our country's changing demographics. "What else but baseball connects us to America of, say, 1891?" he asks.

Here we are, 120 years later, in a very different America, and yes, all the time, we read that baseball can't keep up with the pace of our everyday lives, that television ratings are down, that football long ago took over as the National Pastime. But is that really the surprising part? Or is the surprising part that America still loves and breathes baseball, long after barbershop quartets stopped singing, long after couples stopped waltzing, long after boxers stopped hitting each other with their bare fists.

Why in the heck do so many of us still love baseball?

Sgt. Alan Beaty, Cpl. Patrick Myers, Sgt. Keith Hull, Cpl. Keith Beaty

Our wounded warriors.
A 2008 Rand Corp. study of 1.6 million American veterans who had served in the Afghanistan and Iraq wars found that 300,000 suffered from PTSD or major depression. That's nearly one in five. An astounding ratio. And as of 2011, the number of vets from those wars has now surged past the 2 million mark.

So what is anyone doing about it? Meet Alan Beaty, a former U.S. Marine sergeant who lives on the family homestead in Tennessee that was awarded to an ancestor for his service in the Revolutionary War. He's one of those with 100 percent disability and he has turned the spread into an unofficial, unfunded halfway house for fellow vets who've come back from the Middle East with physical and mental disabilities.

There, far away from the scrum of city life, they revive the camaraderie they forged on foreign lands, relive the memories, retell the stories that bond them in ways that civilians find difficult, if not possible, to understand. There, in stints from a few days to several months and even a year or more, they begin to heal.

The place is called "Vetville" and the story of the land and the men who gather there is told in compelling fashion by Mike Sager (yes, in Esquire, again). An excerpt:

Beaty scratches his head, resets his trucker cap. "When they teach you to be a Marine, they teach you to focus, because you can't be emotional in combat. You learn to be able to put things out of your mind. You learn to build walls. We've been trained to just keep functioning, to operate without emotion, without conscience. That's what you need in war. 

"But once you get back to society," Beaty continues, "the walls are still up. It's hard to have an emotional attachment to people. Because in your mind, you've been trained to know that this right here could be your last day on earth. So why allow myself to be connected to this woman? Why allow myself to be connected to my children? Lucky I got an amazing woman therapist now at the VA. It's only in the last few months that I'm learning how to take the walls down."

Politics. Baseball. The casualties of war. Take your pick. It's all good.


Photograph of Jon Huntsman by Peter Yang.
Photograph of U.S. Marines at Vetville by Jonathan Torgovnik.

Hansel and Gretel Furniture

Some people like to infuse a bit of red into every room, but I much prefer a hit of black. I bought this chair at a thrift store ages ago and it has served us well. See the before, a faded minty yellow flat finish. I adore painted black furniture  — ala Hitchcock chairs, Swedish painted furniture, cottage furniture, or, what I like to call, Hansel and Gretel pieces. The chair got a heavy coating of gloss black, then the acrylic paints came out to make flowers, finished off with gold detail using a gold paint pen. Belongs in a forest cottage!