Hazel: “Even if they are dead relatives, which would make them ANCESTORS, it would still be interesting.”
So I agreed, and all of a sudden we were researching real, live Wyoming people not only from Junoville, the tiny town where Mama is from, but all over the state. We felt like detectives!
We searched for people with Mama’s maiden name, Doppel. I decided to check out Wolney, her married name with my father, too. Even if these people didn’t have anything to do with Mama’s relatives, maybe they’d know someone who did.
We found some Wolneys and Doppels, but they were dead ancestors. (There were quite a few obituaries online.) But we also found two living Doppels and four living Wolneys. A few were on the same baseball team and one shared a recipe and one was asking advice about her painful joints.
The hair on my arms stood up on end. It was exciting to see the names of potential relatives!
One big problem, though. There weren’t any email addresses or even snail-mail addresses along with the names. But Hazel is a good detective, DOGGED and INTREPID (great detective words). And also more experienced on the Internet than I am. We just kept googling more pages, NEXT and NEXT, and soon we found:
An address for DOPPEL AND SMITH REAL ESTATE FIRM, and the website of THE DOPPEL COUNTRY COUSINS TRIO. There was a sample of their tunes to download and a P.O. address to order their CD.
And then we found an address in Junoville for FRESH FROM THE VINE, “jams lovingly stirred and safely preserved in Barbara Wolney’s spotless kitchen.” When you order three jars of jam, you get a FREE copy of a book of horse poems called poems of hooves and the wind in my hair by a locally famous poet.
Hazel: “Ouch. Are the hooves in his hair? A comma is definitely needed after the word hooves.”
Gabby: “No capital letters in the title! Mr. Chen would correct that with his red pen.”
Anyway, we are going to write some letters tomorrow, even though I’m not going to order a CD or jam.
Love,
Penny
THURSDAY, MARCH 26, 2015
Dear You,
I mailed my letters, three of them. Gabby and Hazel helped me with the wording. Then I copied our rough draft onto my golden retriever stationery three times. I spent a lot of time and effort on them. I tried to make my handwriting neat and legible, and I think I succeeded. I checked all the spelling.
All three letters were the same except for the salutations:
DEAR__________ (INSERT EITHER DOPPEL AND SMITH REAL ESTATE FIRM, THE DOPPEL COUNTRY COUSINS TRIO, or FRESH FROM THE VINE),
I AM PENELOPE VICTORIA BACH. I AM IN FIFTH GRADE.
I REQUIRE INFORMATION ABOUT MY DISTANT RELATIVES.
MY MOTHER IS REBECCA BACH, FORMERLY DOPPEL AND THEN WOLNEY, FROM JUNOVILLE. MY FATHER WAS WILLIAM WOLNEY, DECEASED IN A MOTORCYCLE ACCIDENT IN OAKLAND, FORMERLY OF JUNOVILLE, TOO. BOTH OF THEM WERE ORPHANS.
THEY MOVED TO OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA, IN 2002.
THANKS IN ADVANCE FOR YOUR HELP!
BY THE WAY, I AM AN AVID BASKETBALL FAN. I HAVE NOTICED THAT WYOMING DOESN’T HAVE A PROFESSIONAL BASKETBALL TEAM. MY CONDOLENCES ABOUT THAT.
EMPATHICALLY YOURS,
PVB
Hazel and Gabby agreed it would be a shock for Mama to get the news herself in the mail, out of the blue, so Hazel said we should give her address as a return address instead of mine. Hazel always gets the mail before her mom or Rick come home. Then Hazel will give me the mail from any long-lost relatives, and I can break the good news to Mama with sensitivity.
Love,
Pen
3/27/15: A rout against the Grizzlies, 107–84.
TUESDAY, MARCH 31, 2015
Dear You,
Today, there is no school, because it is Cesar Chavez Day.
Our class has been learning about Cesar Chavez. He was born on this day in 1927 and died in 1993.
He defended farm workers’ right not to have to work around pesticides and their right to make more money. He helped them join together and form unions so they could be stronger together.
Chavez used to say “Sí, se puede,” which means “Yes, it can be done.” Mr. Chen pointed out that President Obama used “Yes, we can!” for his election campaign slogan. I thought President Obama had made that up.
Maybe he did, but it just goes to show that there is nothing new under the sun, like Mama always says.
Cesar Chavez used to go on hunger strikes to prove his points and get attention for his ethical, righteous causes. ETHICAL means things that are right rather than wrong.
I can’t stop thinking about those hunger strikes! That is something I don’t think I could ever do. Neither does Gabby. But Hazel says of course we could, if something was important enough.
We beat the Clippers, 110–106 (even though Draymond Green wasn’t there because his shin is inflamed).
What a winning streak! We know we’ve made the playoffs, but it still feels good to win.
Feel better, Draymond!
Happy Festus Ezeli Day!
By the way, you are as big as a small seedless watermelon. Mama’s belly is round with you.
Love,
Pen
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 1, 2015
Dear You,
On the basketball list this morning: HERMIONE GRANGER. (APRIL FOOL!)
Ha! As if Kenny’s other names were real.
I finally decided to tell him we suspected it was him.
Kenny: “Moi?”
Then he said something surprising: “Hey, I apologize for making fun of your name. Can we call a truce?”
But I said I wasn’t angry with him. So how could we call a truce?
Kenny: “Really? You’re not angry with me? That’s good.”
Disdain for his immaturity is not the same as anger. I should have said that, but I didn’t think of it at the time.
Gabby, Hazel, and I keep trying to copy Steph Curry’s behind-the-back dribble in the schoolyard. It’s harder than it looks. In other words, we can’t do it.
But we killed at HORSE after school! We decided to join in because, even though we can’t do that move, we are better than ever from practicing our shots. The boys grumbled that we weren’t any good, but Kenny Walinhoff said, “Oh, let them play! They’ll be out pretty fast.”
He didn’t know how good we are. And then we showed ‘em! Gabby won once and Hazel and I each almost won.
Kenny, CONDESCENDINGLY (that means he felt superior to us): “You girls have been practicing! Keep it up!”
Gabby, Hazel, and I all looked at him disdainfully.
Love,
Penny
THURSDAY, APRIL 2, 2015
Dear You,
A nail-biter against the Suns tonight, but we won! 107–106!
WHAT I LOVE TO HEAR
Oakland fans ROARING—
THE WARRIORS HAVE WON THE LAST ELEVEN GAMES IN A ROW!!!
WHAT ELSE I LOVE TO HEAR
Our family singing
“Choices (Yup)” by E-40 (Warriors remix)
“Live Like a Warrior” by Matisyahu
Rain on the roof
Video game sound effects
Popcorn popping
Mike’s voice, which is almost like music
Wind chimes
Fountains running on a hot day
Uncle Ziggy’s motorcycle pulling up
Do you hear us out here, You?
Did you hear me cheering? Especially when Harrison Barnes got that shot with only 0.4 seconds left in the game?
Did you hear the police sirens roaring down Park Boulevard?
Did you hear Sammy drop that empty cast-iron pot on her toe and yell “fiddlesticks”?
I wonder.
But Mama says you can definitely hear her insides swishing like ocean waves and her heart beating, all the time. Like a lullaby with a drumbeat, Mama says.
Lucky you.
Love,
Me
FRIDAY, APRIL 3, 2015
Dear You,
; The whole class was giggly and silly today, even Mr. Chen.
Here is his tie:
That’s because today was the last day before spring break!
CORRECTION:
Hazel wasn’t giggly and silly. She came to school with her eyes swollen and red again.
I asked her to please tell me what was wrong, but she declined. She put on that big smile of hers and said everything was OK.
But I saw her smile disappear when she thought I wasn’t looking.
At the end of the day, Mr. Chen said that the time off would be a good opportunity to find recipes representing our heritages. And, if we can, we should bring the cooked dish during the last week of class in June for our GRADUATION . . .
Mr. Chen: “PARTY!”
He did some dance moves that were pretty cool.
Everyone in the class cheered and did copycat dance moves. Some cool, some not.
I will get a recipe from Grandma Lorraine and Great-Grandma Grace.
I have been reading more about what the early Ohlone ate. I am no longer worried that they didn’t have enough to eat. Nobody went hungry! There was SO much to eat! Not only that, but there was NO junk food to block their arteries, hee-hee.
The men hunted bear and deer and other animals. They caught ducks and geese and gathered their eggs. They fished for salmon and trout and smelt and scooped up many kinds of shellfish—mussels, clams, oysters, crabs, abalone, and more. YUM!
The women gathered the plant foods—acorns, seeds, nuts, mushrooms, grasses, clover, and seaweed. They knew how to recognize and separate out the poisonous parts. And there were so many acorns, the Ohlone didn’t even have to farm! I already mentioned the delicious acorn mush.
Now I’m hungry.
Love,
Penny
PS. Hazel told me what was wrong. Rick will be making her do more chores over the break. She says he is not quite as bad as Miss Hannigan, the head of the orphanage in Little Orphan Annie’s story, but it’s close. I feel so bad for Hazel.
SATURDAY, APRIL 4, 2015
Dear You,
Sadly, You, I have to tell you that life has its ups and its downs.
It was a disheartening day.
Disappointing news about Mama’s heritage. Hazel gave me a flyer from the Doppel and Smith Real Estate Firm that she had hidden in her sock drawer. It came in the mail yesterday, all the way from Cheyenne, Wyoming. Doppel and Smith must have sent it as soon as they received my letter.
It was not a personal response in ANY way:
Example: “32 YEARS OF REAL ESTATE EXCELLENCE!”
Believe me, I checked it over very carefully, upside down and inside out. And there was no card or letter along with it—I waved the envelope around a few times just in case.
We went over to Gabby’s for dinner and to watch the game. The Mavericks couldn’t break our winning streak. We won 123–110.
I casually asked where Mike was.
Gabby said she is absolutely positive he went to watch the game with his new girlfriend. She gave us some more clues:
He put on his new jeans, which he wouldn’t wear just for his guy friends.
She thinks he has a new aftershave. It smells like peppermint and roses.
He won’t say exactly where he is going. Just “out.” He mentioned he definitely won’t have time to coach us, because he is too busy, especially on the weekends.
She swears she wasn’t snooping but she saw I HEART L written on a piece of paper on his desk.
Those sounded like very good clues to Hazel and me.
And that is why it has been an especially disHEARTening day.
My heart feels bruised. I think my heart will hurt because of Mike for a very long time.
Maybe forever.
Love,
Pen
SUNDAY, APRIL 5, 2015
Dear You,
I hate the drought. But today, we had a few showers, with more expected, VERY unusual for April.
I suggested to Sammy that maybe the Dubs are bringing us the rain, because of their twelve-game winning streak. Sammy called that “superstitious magical thinking.” She said that basketball wins have nothing to do with unusual weather patterns, which are very complicated and scientifically based. Of course, I said. I was only kidding (sort of).
BUT then the luck of the Dubs changed. They LOST to the Spurs, 92–107. So there goes my superstitious climate theory. After a twelve-game winning streak, Dubs blew a DOUBLE-DIGIT halftime lead!
And then Sammy said she couldn’t understand why I’m so upset. It’s just a one-game slump, and after all, we already know the Dubs are in the playoffs. She asked if there was something else besides basketball bugging me.
I decided to share with Mama and Sammy that I like Mike, but he has a girlfriend his own age, which, of course, makes sense. I told them my heart hurt terribly.
Mama: “Oh, hon. Believe me, a wonderful aspect of life is that time heals. You’ll see.”
I think Dr. Time has a big job on its hands. Now I understand why there are so many heartbreaking songs about love. Except I really don’t feel like singing.
Pen
MONDAY, APRIL 6, 2015
Dear You,
SECRETS OF THE SECRET STAIRWAY (SOSS)
EMERGENCY EDITION
GABBY’S SECRET:
Gabby said she didn’t have any secrets at that point in time.
MY SECRET:
I said that I no longer had a secret love because of certain sad circumstances, which shall remain private. I saw Gabby looking at me in a funny way. I wondered if she was reading my mind.
HAZEL’S SECRET:
My secret was sad, but what Hazel told us was TRAGIC.
Her mom said Nell the goat has to be given away as soon as possible!!! Rick wants to start putting in the bocce court so he can have people over for backyard cocktails. A goat would probably try to eat the hors d’oeuvres.
So Nell will be donated to someone else, or farmed out to one of those companies that hires goats to eat grass on hillsides near the noisy freeways. Those poor sweet goats always look so bored and lonely, just chomping away all day.
But who will hug Nell after her hard day on the hillsides? Who will whisper things to her and listen to her wheezy secrets and sounds of comfort? How will we find out how Nell is doing?
And Nell is a member of a family! We tried to imagine a family giving away one of their children. It was IMPOSSIBLE to imagine.
It’s mostly because Rick isn’t a goat lover, we decided. Actually, the situation is worse than that. He is a GOATIST.
That’s not a real word. Still. It fits.
Hazel said she phoned her father in Cincinnati and asked if she and Nell could go live with him. He refused. She is heartbroken.
Gabby and I are heartbroken, too.
Sending away Nell, a family member, is unethical, we all decided.
It felt like an emergency. And so we immediately began our hunger strike, inspired by the late Cesar Chavez.
All three of us. Because that’s what friends are for. We vowed not to eat until Rick and Hazel’s mom promise to keep Nell.
Hazel was right, Gabby and I agreed. It is easy to decide to go on a hunger strike when something is very important to you.
That was at eleven in the morning.
I didn’t eat lunch.
Later, I didn’t even have an afternoon snack, even though Mama had baked an upside-down apple cake, and there it was sitting on the kitchen counter, smelling so good.
But . . .
of ALL days, Sammy made her famous spaghetti with marinara sauce and garlic-parmesan meatballs for dinner. Wait until you taste those meatballs, You! They are IRRESISTIBLE.
IRRESISTIBLE means I couldn’t help eating some. I took a very tiny portion of pasta and sauce and only one meatball.
Sammy: “What’s the matter? One measly meatball? Aren’t you hungry?”
Mama: “She must be sick!”
And I said, yes, I wasn’t fee
ling so good, but it was because of Nell. I told them the whole story and that I was hunger striking.
Sammy and Mama said that a hunger strike wouldn’t help things anyway and that kids have absolutely no business going on hunger strikes.
And after that, I ate some more spaghetti and four more garlic-parmesan meatballs. I just couldn’t help it, even though Gabby and Hazel were hunger striking and I was letting them down by failing at it.
NOT a great day.
Love,
Pen
PS. But I did skip Sundae Monday tonight. Chocolate Banana. I’m sure it was delicious.
PPS. I have even more respect for Cesar Chavez at this point in time.
TUESDAY, APRIL 7, 2015
Dear You,
Gabby and Hazel found food irresistible yesterday, too.
Gabby’s dad was grilling steak, and the barbecue smell did her in. Hazel couldn’t help eating her mother’s turkey meatloaf, and it isn’t even her favorite food. Liza puts hardboiled eggs down the middle of it, and they get sort of beige-colored after baking, Hazel says. You have to eat extremely carefully around the beige hardboiled eggs if you don’t happen to like them mixed in with meatloaf, which Hazel doesn’t. But she was so hungry, she even ate one of those eggs!
Hunger is so powerful.
Do you ever feel hungry, You? Maybe you don’t, since you are fed continuously inside Mama.
Gabby suggested that when the time comes, we should have a Totally Goatally goodbye party for Nell. Party hats for everyone, even Nell, and streamers and chocolate cupcakes (for us) and alfalfa cupcakes (for Nell) and a garland of flowers around Nell’s neck. Which she’d eat, of course, but so what? It’s her party.
HAZEL: “The time will NOT come. I will make sure of it!”
She didn’t tell us how she would do that, but her eyes were slits and her mouth was a straight line, and she looked like she meant it. That made me feel hopeful for Nell.
Love,
Pen
THURSDAY, APRIL 9, 2015
Love, Penelope Page 8