Sin City...

The first time I hit Vegas was 1961, at the ripe old age of 10. I didn't see the inside of a casino, but I remember the night like it was yesterday. Mom, Dad, plus two renters of 2/3 of our (my) backseat. Squished in our 1958 Chevy Biscayne 2 door. With me. We'd been vacationing in California and were driving home through the desert. With no air. At the time Las Vegas had a population of 64,000. It was getting dark as we drove closer, yet none of us could speak. There ahead, quite narrow but very long was a sprawling, sparkly city of dazzling lights. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

This sign still stands, welcoming all to Sin City...

To Kofa with Les...

It seemed like a most unusual love affair. John's brother Les is a real Iowan. Loved his state, his job, his town, his home, his life. The least likely candidate to catch a bad case of wanderlust. But that's exactly what happened. I believe the blame might lie with his better half, my sister-in-law Mary Jane. From here on out be advised, her real name is Mary Jane, but she also answers to Jane, Mary or MJ, so as I'm telling the story, it's all the same gal, just by whatever I feel like calling her in that sentence.

Les and his famous mustache...

3:10 to Yuma...

We're in Arizona for 2 weeks, visiting Hubs brother Les and sister-in-law Mary Jane. They bought a place in Yuma 9 years ago and have been spending several months a year in this nice warm climate. For those of you who don't know what an Iowa winter is like, don't ask. Or worse yet, try one to see how much you enjoy it. Trust me when I say about 99% of Iowans are fiercely loyal to their beloved Hawkeye state, but in order to maintain sanity, keep your fingers and toes intact, most would leave that state in a heartbeat for anywhere warm during their endless winter. We've been invited to visit, and decided the time was right. But I'm missing 2 of Landon's basketball games, and yes I'm feeling the guilt. Counting on Shannon and Tracey to message me through the game.

The Yuma Territorial Prison, 1876. The stone work is beautiful...

Let me get our first day here out of the way. It was long for all of us. It all started with this dang tooth of mine nearly 2 years ago. I don't have good teeth. If I were a horse, I'd have been put down decades ago. Nobody's fault. Mom always sent me to my favorite dentist, Doc Schroeder. And I'm a faithful with my brushing, and flossing to the point I drive my family nuts. Every time I eat anything, I have to bush my teeth. Mouth is full of bridges where little particles get stuck and drive my tongue and head to distraction. I faithfully carry toothpaste, brush, dental pick and floss in my purse and lunch bag at work.

The guards tower. There were several escapes, botched and successful...

I had this root canal tooth that broke off at my gum line. Went to the dentist with the idea I'd probably have to sink a couple grand in a new bridge. Not so fast Neese. Bridges are a thing of the past. Not hip or cool. They hurt the integrity of the teeth on either side. (I guess I'm rather short on integrity with my mouth and teeth). Now we do implants. No, not the boob kind, the toothy kind. They did their hard sell this way. You get the tooth pulled and have a bone graft which takes a few months to heal (so you can keep paying). Then they start the implant which takes several months (so you can keep paying). By the time 18 months have passed, you have a beautiful permanent tooth for $4,600.00. (But that's ok because you've had so many months to pay).

The Dark Hole. Solitary was horrible in this cage...

There's just no way I can spend $4,600.00. ON ONE TOOTH. Enter Mary Jane. Since residing in Yuma part time for the last few years, she got acquainted with a fabulous dentist in Mexico, about 20 miles away. A mere pittance compared to American dentistry. And he went to school in Michigan. Well hook me up, Sista. Which is exactly what she did after she heard what I needed done. We crossed the border by 8:30 and I was getting the prep work for a couple of crowns and new bridge by 10. Temporaries are in place until next week. Thanks MJ. Now back to my jail house story.

Room without a view. Each cell housed 6 men in this tiny room...

We started off our second day by meeting a large group for breakfast at a local senior resort park Clubhouse. Those in attendance? All Iowans. What a hoot! About 40 folks showed up. Right here in Yuma. One lady I've thought about several times over the years, but hadn't seen for a half century. She was an elementary grade school teacher of mine when I was very young. Her name is Myrna Ver Hoef.

The crimes they committed. Some were such minor infractions...

Now most of my teachers were never of great importance to me. I was a lazy, do-as-little-as-possible student during my reign of terror school days. The social aspect was vitally important to me, the study part, not so much. One of my many regrets. But Mrs. Ver Hoef played a very important role in my life. She happened to be my second grade teacher, which is the year I lost my 12 year old brother, Larry. Myrna showed me so much love and compassion that year. Way beyond necessary and far above her piddly pay grade I'm sure. It was lovely to see her and we hope to get together again before I leave.

The Yuma Territorial Prison Band. Unbelievable...

After meeting scads of people, enjoying food and fellowship, Les suggested we tour a rather famous prison. The Yuma Territorial Prison is right off the interstate. It looks as though it was carved right out of the rocky hillside. It was. The prison opened in 1876, before Arizona was even a state, thus the Territorial part. The charter members of this exclusive club were especially lucky. They were selected to build the prison that would house themselves. Fun. During the 33 years this facility remained open, about 3,000 men and 29 women would spend some serious time in Yuma Territorial Prison. Although primitive, the prison had many modern conveniences not yet available to the general public, including electricity and forced ventilation system with running fans! The library boasted 2,000 books. There were 2 bathtubs and 3 showers. Everyone got a shower once a week whether they needed it or not. All the modern conveniences. Until you noticed the actual prison part, which was known as the Hell Hole.

Interesting stats they kept...

There was one cell in the side of the rocky hill for serious offenders. Maybe the first solitary confinement. Called the 'dark cell,' it was more like a cave. The only light it offered was through a small vent hole in the roof. Unless you well were under 5 feet tall, standing upright was impossible. The occupants (sometimes more than one offender) were fed only bread and water once a day. No bathroom facilities of any kind, the place smelled absolutely horrible. The guards would regularly toss snakes and scorpions down the vent hole for laughs. The prison on a whole was insufferable. The desert heat made it feel like an inferno. The prison was surrounded by rivers, quick sand and the endless desert. Ball and chains were attached to many legs.

Ball and chain, no joke...

The cells were minuscule, and housed 6 guys per unit. The metal bunks looked about 30 inches wide, 3 to a stack. No mattress, just a hard board with about 2 feet in between the other stack of 3. Gravel floor, one little piss pot to do your business. We had to duck to get into the women's section, which I think housed only 2 gals to a room. The warden and guards seemed quite ill-at-ease with the women prisoners. Like they didn't quite know what to do with them. One of the ladies, Pearl Hart wound up pregnant during her stint in Yuma and gave birth to a darling baby boy who remained with his mommy for 2 years. I believe the governor pardoned her just to be rid of her. The guards wrote how relieved they were when mom and toddler was released because she was such a trouble maker. Nobody missed Pearl, but everyone missed her little boy!

Pearl Hart looks innocent enough, but she was a piece of work...

Some of the crimes and misdemeanors were almost laughable, unless you'd already been convicted and sentenced for it. One guy was sentenced because he refused to marry the judge's homely daughter. Adultery, seduction, selling booze to Indians, prize fighting, polygamy. Crazy stuff. The youngest inmate was 14, the oldest 88.

One male lifer, when not visiting The Dark Cell, knit these beauties...

The Yuma Territorial Prison closed in 1909 when a new state prison was erected in Florence, Arizona. Yuma then used the prison from 1910-1914, wait for it-as their local High School. Story goes that Phoenix High School meandered down for a football game during Yuma's stint of prison turned high school. Yuma was teased unmercifully, especially when Yuma score and went ahead. Phoenix started taunting Yuma, yelling, "Criminals, Criminals! " Over and over. Well, the joke was on Phoenix. Yuma loved the name and adopted it as their team motto. Kept it over a hundred years now, though usually shortened to just "The Crims!" The high school's merchandise shop is aptly named, "The Cell Block." Clever. Go Crims!!

The name stuck since 1910. Love it. Yuma High Criminals...

Who knew all this history lurking near the hi way in Yuma? Certainly not this Iowa/Michigan grandma. I was truly fascinated by our little one hour stop at Yuma's Territorial Prison. Consider this your history lesson for the day. Next up, a lesson concerning deserts. You're welcome...

Ha-ha! The Yuma High School 2016 Wrestling Team. Go Crims...

30 Years...

I equate this little blip in the long marriage to Hubs like buying a 3 dollar ticket for a quickie trip aboard the SS Minnow. You know, just a 3 hour tour. Iowa's economy was in the tank in 1986. About the first time ever we had to consider moving out of the state. We had looked at Minnesota and South Dakota during our first 2 decades of wedded bliss, yet every time John looked for another's job or was downsized, somehow we always managed to stay in Iowa. Never gave it much thought that we would ever leave. And if we did leave, surely we would return when Iowa's economy rebounded.

We thought our gig in Michigan would be temporary...

Joshua & Erica...

It's been 2 weeks and I've not been able to stop singing the lyrics from 'I'm a Believer' by the Monkees. I might have an issue. And it started long before meeting my brand new great granddaughter Jovi, about the same time. When I laid eyes on her, I immediately thought of the words to this song's chorus. But this ordeal started 50 years ago when I fell in love with Neil Diamond. Sorry Hubs. The Monkees hit was # 1 for several weeks in 1966. But the song was originally written and sung by Neil.

Limitless...

After I gave birth the first time, I swore I would never have another kid. Repeated this daily to Hubs. Sorry, this baby factory has been permanently shut down. Out of order. I was too young. It was horribly traumatic and painful. And I stuck with that story for several years. Shannon was beautiful, smart, precocious. Pretty much a perfect kid.

Shannon, 8 months, 1971...

A few years later, just as suddenly every baby I came across was cute again. What was going on? The last month of my pregnancy, which lasted so much longer than a month was slowly forgotten. Ditto for the painful labor. I think God slowly makes you forget all the painful stuff involved with childbearing or none of us would ever have more than one kid. Seriously. One kid per woman. China would not ever have had to restrict family size if women all recalled our last month of pregnancy and giving birth.

Newborn Joshua in New Vienna, 1975...

I thought I might be ready to have another child. But how do you divide your love with this awesome little person who's already been in your life for years? Would I be able to love another baby like I loved Shannon? Am I the only one who had these thoughts before my second pregnancy? Truth be told I was a little worried. I already loved Joshua, but would it turn out to be equally? Another thing God took care of without even asking. Much like the Grinch, my heart just expanded. There was more than enough love to go around. Oh-self-doubting-Duh-Neese. The same held true after another 4-1/2 years when Adam joined our merry band of misfits. My heart just grew another size.

Adam, Spencer Iowa, 1980...

Twenty years later Shannon became a mom. To the exquisite Ariana in 1991. When you think having a kid is extraordinary (and it is) try expressing your feelings for the first time you hold your kid's kid. Breathtaking, fragile, miraculous and fulfilling don't even come close. But there's some different feelings too. When you're a mom you worry about illness and accidents as your babies grow, but you don't dwell constantly on those things. Another God thing, because you would be so consumed with scary scenarios you couldn't function on a daily basis. I found myself worrying much more about Ari than I ever did about Shannon, Joshua or Adam. That's grandma worry instead of mom worry. Danger Will Robinson danger, er I mean grandma.

Ariana, 9 months, 1991...

I see this at work too. Everyone I work with in the infant room is younger than me. Some decades, some pretty close to my age. I have the tendency to scamper, scoop up and move a baby to a safer spot much more than anyone else. Often after my day off, someone will say, you should have seen what Lily was trying to do yesterday. One of us mentioned, "Denise would be having a heart attack over that one!" Although I don't really see myself as a worrisome person, my worry boundary level is much higher than everyone else's. Keeps me on my toes for sure. The joys of Grandma-hood. I should rap that.

Landon 9 months, 2001...

Along the years, 3 more amazing grandchildren joined us. Landon, (Drew to the rest of the world) in 2000, Peyton in 2004 and Graham in 2009. Twenty five years have flown by since Ari, and that's the only and best way to describe it. Flown past. You could slow that part down just a bit God. How the heck did Ari get to be 25? Remains a mystery. Ari and (her) Josh came over on a warm summer weekend last year to tell us they were expecting. Couple of breaths later I realize that would make my young-ish daughter Shannon a GRANDMA AND ME A GREAT-GRANDMA. Oh my stars. That seems too young for both of us. It was quite surreal for a few weeks.

Peyton 9 months, 2005...

Ari put this app on her phone. A backdrop where she'd stand sideways in front of a wall, smiling. A cute little saying next to her might announce, I'm 13 weeks and the baby is the size of a walnut. Later on, a lemon, grapefruit, cantaloupe, honeydew, summer squash. Finally a watermelon, which is exactly how she looked. Her face still thin, legs and arms too, but her belly absolutely looked like a watermelon was just languishing right there in her middle. She could no sit or sleep comfortably and hadn't seen her cute feet in days.

Graham 9 months, 2010...

When Ari was born there were quite a few similarities to her having a baby this week. Her uncles Josh and Adam were 16 and 12 when she was born. Twenty-five years later, Ari's sibs, Uncle Landon is 16 and Aunt Peyton is 12. My Mom had a girl first. Me too, so did Shannon. I knew right away that Ari was having a girl. I would have easily wagered a few bucks that her baby would also be born in the month of December, and on an even date. And she should have been. Due on January 3rd, you could easily understand baby girl's dilemma. "No, sorry Mommy, I'm unable to proceed with the birthing process. I'm already too big and very comfy right here, so please just continue eating and I'll be fine & dandy. You and daddy can meet me later. OK?" Ari probably should have had a C-section. Hindsight, good birth control for the future.

A fun weekly update showing the growing signs of Jovi, 2016..

After being induced a week after her due date, enduring a 'quick' 24 hours of miserable labor, baby girl made her whopping debut. In this corner, weighing in at 9 pounds, 1 ounce, the lovely yet formidable, Jovi Marie. Ari finally a new mommy, said, "thanks for not waiting any longer Jovi or gaining another ounce."

A tuckered out Jovi right after being born, 1-11-16...

She wasn't born on an even, low date of the month either. Jovi joins her daddy, aunts Peyton and Sarah with the uneven dates of 15, 7 and now two 11's. Although we love them all, I'll be working out equations until my head spins trying to make this work.

One happy family! Josh, Ari & Jovi Marie...

Great-grandpa and I were not at the hospital when Jovi was born. We thought about going after 16 hours of labor, but Ari was still stuck, dilated to only 4. Plus there were several more important people with her for support. So we waited, worrying and praying everything would be OK.

So much love and emotion. Jovi and Mommy, 1-11-17...

John and I first met Jovi when she'd been on earth for about 12 hours. So hard to put into words. If you can imagine the joy of holding your newborn, multiply several times. Here's this tiny, exquisite person. Filling out a newborn sleeper perfectly. My kid's, kid's kid. As she squirmed, squeaked, frowned and slept contentedly, this is what ran through my head.

Jovi and her great-grandma-me! 1-12-17

Then I saw her face, now I'm a believer
Not a trace, of doubt in my mind.
I'm in love, I'm a believer
I couldn't leave her if I tried.

Shannon Marie (Gi-gi) with Jovi Marie, 1-12-17...

The Monkees, 1966 (an awesome year BTW)

Jovi & great grandpa John cuddling, 1-12-17...

Welcome to our family, Jovi Marie. I hope you know how much you are loved and adored...

Jovi = perfection, thanks so much God...

Skirts & Stockings...

There was a short time frame in my life when I thought I was invincible. I don't mean those teenage years when you think nothing bad can ever happen. I knew better, having lost my only brother when he was 12. No, this short segment of time actually felt like 2 minutes, but it was more like 5 years. I'm here to tell you the sad tale about a gal who thought she had talent. Me.

No fireplace mantle. Bought a curtain rod and hung our stockings on the sliders...