Their translucent skin, cherub-like cheeks and precious smiles make me anxious for that moment when I will hold my arms out and my son or daughter-in-law will hand me that bundle to hold. I well up with tears when I reflect on what it all means.

I am emotional, I suppose, because with my grandchild’s birth comes a certain passage. As she enters this world, I step one more day closer to leaving it. I am not being morbid. It’s true. It’s the circle of life.

In the lineage of women in my family—my great-grandmothers, my grand­mothers, my mother and me—my unborn granddaughter represents the next generation. We anticipate that she will be a little like us, but hopefully with just our best traits. We expect her to reach high, work hard, be truthful, fair and passionate about the things she believes most in. We hope that she is strong, confident, never fearful or alone, and stays safe for a hundred years. As I wait to meet her, I find myself packing her bags with some of my dreams.

In last week’s episode of this “How Not To” serial, I bragged about not leaving anything out for B’rer Bear. On the morning of publication, I woke to find my nice compost bin scattered around the yard in several pieces. Such messes are often starting points for a woman with the insatiable curiosity of the elephant’s child. It was just one more piece of the life puzzle, if I could only figure out what it meant.

That compost bin hasn’t been bothered in years, so why now? I refuse to believe it’s punishment for playing in the harbor on my bike when I might have been doing something productive. Contrary to popular opinion, divinity in all its forms honors play.

The first step to figuring this new puzzle piece is, “What’s missing?” What’s missing is watermelon rind — lots of watermelon rind. I’m a seasonal forager who never resists a temptation. This time of year I could live on watermelon, rice and fish, and only the watermelon rind gets to the compost bin.

The donkey-riding 20-30 Club rode tall in the saddle to defeat the Cutthroats, also burro-mounted, by a 3-2 score in donkey baseball.

The Cutthroats, led by Jim McGilvary, were overpowered by Jerry Hennebeck’s 20-30 Bronco Busters. Nick Gargaetas, the report says, couldn’t seem to find the brake and overshot the donkey a time or two.

Others were reported to be at the mercy of their gallant steeds every now and then, and Harold “the Arm” Armfield, it is said, was taken on a quick trip around the park by his mount and managed to stay on, too.

But, one player reported, things like these are to be expected in donkey baseball and, he added, there were really very few mistakes made considering they were riding donkeys!    

Dan Cupid takes holiday

When the 1928 football team pulled the big upset over Ferndale in the season opener Dee was one of the starting running backs that helped the Warriors to this big win.

In basketball, Dee made the varsity as a freshman. He was regularly one of the team’s top scorers. During his sophomore, junior and senior years he was named to the all-league first team. During his junior and senior years he was named captain of the All League Team.

It happened while Laura and I were in Carmel recently. Our hosts were big fans of the San Francisco Giants, and their games were on TV every night. They play in a beautiful stadium by the bay. They’re blessed with great pitching, including last year’s Cy Young Award winner, a kid with floppy hair who looks like he belongs in a skate park instead of  a ballpark. And they are, after all, something of the local team for those of us dwelling in Northern California.

I found myself developing a rooting interest in the Giants, and this is more complicated than it sounds, because what about my Colorado Rockies? Before coming to Crescent City I lived for four years in Colorado Springs and made several sojourns to Coors Field to watch Denver’s baseball team. They were loaded with young, home-grown talent and went on an incredible run to the World Series at the end of the ’07 season, winning 21 of 22 games. Their logo still emblazons the license plate frame of our Jeep, and “CR” stitching decorates two of my best sweat-stained hats.

And here’s the worst part: the Rockies and the Giants play in the same division, and are locked in a struggle for the National League’s wild-card playoff spot. Who would I support if it came down to, say, a one-game playoff between the two of them?

I recommended a place I’ve stayed at in Taft, Ore., at the southern end of Lincoln City. It’s a modest home on the edge of the bay. We each drove about 250 miles to meet at the house Sunday before last. The rental company gave me a 4-digit code that opened a lock box with three keys inside: one for the three exterior doors, one for the laundry/storage room and a third that opened the detached cottage.

We soon fell into vacation mode. We slept until 7:30 or so, then ate our oatmeal and blueberries either by the picture window or outside, depending on the temperature. We shared books and magazines we’d brought and read until it was time to “get ready.”

Around noon we left on a quest for lunch and bargains at the Factory Outlet Mall. Then we’d return to the house for a walk or to soak up the sun from the Adirondack chairs on the deck. Eventually we’d forage for dinner, then read until we fell asleep.

On our last night in Lincoln City we left the house around 7:30. We planned to walk to a restaurant down the street for fish tacos.

There’s a bear wandering around the neighborhood, but I haven’t seen it yet. Since mine is the only place without a dog, B’rer Bear will appear eventually. Sanctuary is the only thing he’ll find, since I don’t have fruit trees and leave out nothing more palatable than dandelions.

A couple years ago the biggest black bear I ever saw appeared on the back porch. It didn’t occur to me until a few hours later that perhaps running at it, clapping my hands and yelling, “Shoo!” might not have been the smartest thing I ever did. Still, my heart was in the right place. I know the bear who learns to live with humans doesn’t live long.

His best chance was to be terrified of bipeds, so we played out a scene much like the recent incident where a cougar was cornered by a Chihuahua. I made a lot of irritating noise and moved fast, and he took refuge in the woods.

I confess that my sympathies are entirely with the bear, the cougar and all the other critters we’ve displaced with houses, highways and shopping centers. State and national parks? They aren’t allowed to eat people there, either.

Crescent City took on a military appearance last night as 379 officers and men of the Ninth Field Artillery, Headquarters Battery, B.N. and a company of Sixth Engineers from Fort Lewis, Washington, bivouacked at the county fairgrounds.

The soldiers are en route from their northern post to summer maneuvers at Monterey and are traveling in a fleet of Army trucks with nine pieces of heavy artillery on huge trailers.

Local racehorse wins

Seagayle, Burtschell and Hiller’s promising thoroughbred, proved a sensation at the Sonoma County fair this week, winning the inaugural handicap last Saturday, paying his backers $17.00.

Seagayle also won the Governor’s handicap by a length and paid backers $4.20, $3.00 and $2.60 on a $2.00 ticket. A number of local people held tickets on the horse.

Supervisors oppose plan

The Morgan brothers were both excellent basketball players.  A few weeks ago I wrote about Leon. This week I get to write about Don.  While Don’s name appears on the blanket for basketball, it could in all honesty appear under football, baseball and track as well.  Don was a real multi-talented athlete. 

He started for the Warrior football team in his sophomore, junior and senior years, playing both offense and defense. I still remember one day in practice where his wonderful smile suffered a critical blow. Two front teeth got knocked out. This was tragic as he was famous for his laugh and smile. Phony teeth replaced the originals so his fame could continue.

Don was a starter on the varsity basketball team for three years and was all-league and the team’s top scorer during his junior and senior years.  I used to shoot Don for Fudge Sickles before practice and am still in debt for about 50. I pay my debt by buying Fudge Sickles in his name and eating them myself.