Update on new site
Just a quick reminder: the new site is up and going. You need to check there to keep up with Camp Colombo. I will post photos here periodically, but the writing is all at wordpress. You can sign up for email notifications from there.
See you there!
Peggy
See you there!
Peggy
Continuing the move
Hey folks, Just a reminder that I have a new site on wordpress. I will keep this one a bit longer, and yes mom am copying all my posts to save, but by the end of May, shutterfly will not receive the latest postings, they will all be on wordpress.
Thanks again for all the encouragement and support over the years!
Thanks again for all the encouragement and support over the years!
WNY Weather
If you live in Western New York, you spend a lot of time obsessing about the weather. The Great Lakes of Erie and Ontario really play havoc with any systems that move in, especially from the south and west. They are truly large and in charge. To add to the lake phenomenon, I live at the bottom and to the east of a gorge fondly referred to as "The Grand Canyon of the East". Any weather coming across it changes because of the distance down into the gorge and the moisture of the river running at the bottom. It can stop or increase snow, change it to rain or hail, and deny us rain altogether. When we lived on the hill, you could watch the weather system run right down the valley, not a mile away, and never feel a drop.
This has been a winter of cold and wet. Late snows, when daffodils and tulips should be growing, but are covered in a foot of snow. No lie, we had a foot the third week of March. A FOOT. It was snowing last night on the hill while the valley had rain. That kind of weather gives a whole new meaning to April showers and May flowers.
Today the sun is shining and the thermometer reads over 60. And I'll take it, because it means JMumbo can put on his gum boots, shoulder his gun, and head
out to patrol the house, keeping me safe from any Rebel soldiers that may be lurking about.
Broken Jars
The prodigal daughter has Art class this half of the year. They were starting a painting project dealing with fore, middle, and background. They were going to paint on different mediums, not paper or canvas. I thought it was a great project, then I realized what the above mentioned aspects meant. I had some work to do.
The photo she wanted was one from our Disney trip. No big deal, they were all in one place because I am like that. They were on the flash drive labeled "Disney Photos". Where else would they be? Except for one. The one I actually ordered from the Disney photographers and framed. The one that was packed away while I redid the living room. And surprise, surprise, THAT was the one she wanted.
I managed to find one from our camera that was clear enough she could use it. One down, one to go. What to paint on, what to paint on. The prodigal daughter wanted my stool. The stool I actually use in the basement. One of the only seats that was high enough for my craft bench, which is what I bought it for. I dug a board out of the garage. Not good enough. I suggested a glass canning jar, quart size. She scoffed and headed out the door. When she returned home that afternoon, the jar became the best thing ever. Because the Art teacher said so.
I did find a glass jar purchased before marriage and children, back when Pier One actually had cool stuff. It was designed to look old with a big cork instead of a lid. I gave up my funky jar for the art project. I would have taken it into school for her that day, I started in her building, but she's a tweener and I knew if I suggested it, I would have been rebuffed. So I shut my mouth and headed to work.
Where I found her in the back hallway. With part of the jar. The other part? In pieces on the floor. It had broken on the bus. Which SHOCKED me. A large glass jar, in a backpack, on a school bus. And it BROKE? WHAT?!? How could this have happened? Which is what the prodigal daughter wondered aloud as we cleaned up the chunks of glass. I just shook my head.
She still did the art project. I had a matching jar at home which I transported to the art room the next day, and the Art teacher and I had a giggle.
First blog of a new adventure
For several years I have blogged on Shutterfly's wonderful site. It was great because it allowed me to post photos, create different sections, and play around with my writing in a safe, beginner environment. For a few months I have been considering heading out of my sheltered blog world and see what happens. Several friends have recently started blogs and when the one who originally turned me onto Shutterfly stepped out, I decided it may be time. Having both kids spend several days home sick gave me the time to play around and set it up also.
I admire women who blog and am grateful because many of them are moms like me, trying to figure out how motherhood really works in the 21st century. I am a Gen. Xer, one of those confused individuals who was raised on Disney movies and Laura Ingalls Wilder books, then thrust into a society that wanted me to challenge myself to "be all that I could be", conquering the corporate world just like the men. That's all fine and dandy, and I respect everything Gloria Steinem did for women's equality, but she never had kids who expect you to help them with their homework (ie how much can they get mom to do), have dinner ready by 5:30 every night, and run a personal delivery service of themselves and belongings to various locations within a 20 mile radius. It complicates that whole "rise to the top" piece. Some of us really like being moms. Some of us, more than you would think, wish we could be June Cleaver vacuuming the house in her pearls. We want to be waiting at home with warm cookies and cold milk for our kids to get off the bus. Reading mommy blogs helps me reconcile my shortcomings in this area by realizing I am not alone.
Will this be a mommy blog? Sometimes, but we moms are complex creatures who wear many hats. So come over, sit around the campfire and roast a marshmallow or two. Maybe even make a s'more and sing a song. I don't care if you can't carry a tune, I can't either, but camp songs are all about singing it loud and proud, with your whole heart behind it. We'll tell some stories and share some laughs, and hopefully go home realizing we aren't alone.
New Adventure
I am starting a new journey. I am heading farther into the world of blogging by creating a site outside the careful parameters of Shutterfly.
I will continue to post here also, but eventually would like to move everything to the new site. Mom, it's all your fault with your ideas of writing for papers, etc. This is my next step while I gear up the courage to send my stuff to an honest to goodness print medium. It's a big one for me, but please know I will always change/disguise the names to protect the innocent, and will not post photos without express permission from people. Most of you already know who my allusions allude to, so it shouldn't be an issue.
The link is: http://campcolombo.wordpress.com/.
The numbers at the bottom of this page tell me I am ready, that in the words of the inimitable Sally Fields, "You like me, you really like me."
I will continue to post here also, but eventually would like to move everything to the new site. Mom, it's all your fault with your ideas of writing for papers, etc. This is my next step while I gear up the courage to send my stuff to an honest to goodness print medium. It's a big one for me, but please know I will always change/disguise the names to protect the innocent, and will not post photos without express permission from people. Most of you already know who my allusions allude to, so it shouldn't be an issue.
The link is: http://campcolombo.wordpress.com/.
The numbers at the bottom of this page tell me I am ready, that in the words of the inimitable Sally Fields, "You like me, you really like me."
The Icky Piggy once again.
Over the mid winter break I had an opportunity to visit my brother and his family, including the latest edition who is a whopping 2 weeks old. I couldn't wait, because I know I don't want any more babies in my house, but I do love to hang out with other people's. That bonus of handing them back before you leave has a lot to do with it. I can put up with several hours of crying and bouncing knowing I get to head home. Giving my brother and his wife a bit of a break makes me feel helpful too, especially being too far away for regular weekend visits.
When we arrived she was sleeping, something she doesn't do on a regular basis yet. According to her big sister, "All she does is yell". This is the same child that announced she was done with the dogs at her mom's house because all they did was chew on things and bark. (I see a trend developing here.) For the next 2 hours we waited for the littlest Valentine to start to yell. We passed her from person to person, even JMumbo had a turn. Then my dad began to jiggle her. Nothing. He talked to her. Nothing. Finally he lifted her up so they were eye to eye, (her's were still closed) and told her to wake up. One eye cracked just enough to let him know she was not listening and back to sleep she went.
Eventually she roused enough to have a bottle and things began to rock and roll. Minnie Mouse's original statement about the yelling was dead on. A few screeches, then some grunting and snorting, and it was back to screeching. And lots of hands to take her and cuddle the crankiness out of her. I remember being ready to tear my hair out and give my last dime to get JMumbo to stop crying. Baby Valentine could have fussed all afternoon and I wouldn't have blinked.
I don't envy my brother and his wife the sleepless nights ahead while our littlest Valentine rearranges her days and nights, or the spit up that shows up on your shirt AFTER you get to work, but I do miss the smell of a baby and the quiet warmth from them sleeping on your chest, completely relaxed. I think the Icky Piggy will be visiting again soon.
Radio Station KGOD
“I never get to be Jesus.” - Joey DeBell
These words signaled the beginning of a dress rehearsal for Youth Sunday. The gospel reading was the Sermon on the Mount, and a radio show was the presentation format for a combined Gospel and Homily.
A conversation between Jesus, the original orator, and Clarence Jordan, the Cotton Patch minister from the South, developed in the creative genius of Karen Canning, as the kids struggled to understand just what all those blessings were about. You have to admit, an initial reading of the Beatitudes is not terribly promising or encouraging. The farther you read, the darker it seems to get. That is where Jordan comes in. A Jewish scholar, he traced the sermon back to its Greek origins, discovering that some things might truly have been lost in translation. Comparing the Biblical with the Cotton Patch, we waded through those “blessings”, deciding along the way that what Jesus really wanted was to reinforce many of the lessons already taught.
A chorus of disciples asked questions, spoke some wisdoms, and garnered some laughs during the discussion, enlightening the congregation as they had their teachers with their easy acceptance of God’s plan for them. Listening, I thought over Joey’s statement and the desire behind it. Would I really want to be Jesus given the opportunity? He had to push people toward the goal, but know when it was time for the hard sell and time to step back and plant a seed to be nurtured in the mind, sending out tendrils. I think the Beatitudes are seeds. They take some thinking over and discussion before you begin to really understand them. You have to let them sit and grow, which is what Jesus was hoping we would do. And as our Earth Angels signed off of KGOD, I knew they were.
Sliced Banana and other Fourth Grade Delicacies
Today we had a "day off". Which meant no one went to school and I stayed home to work, instead of traveling. The prodigal daughter headed off to a friend's house for the day after a minor battle concerning personal hygiene. Translation, she needed a shower and was reluctant to take one. Once we tore her away from the bathroom mirror, we headed out the door. We collected JMumbo's friend first, because being left at home with the fourth grade boy is the equivalent of nothing on my list getting done. The prodigal daughter was dropped and welcomed with open arms and the boys and I headed to the grocery store. A dollar in quarters and two new bouncy balls later, we were homeward bound.
The boys went outside immediately. There is snow on the ground and the sun is shining, what else do you need? Two hours later I called them in to eat lunch. I made Spaghettios from scratch before finding out that the friend was not deviating from the standard Chicken Nugget fare. A few moments longer and they had choices of entrees, because all nine year olds should have that at lunch time.
This was when the fun began. Juice boxes aren't always boxy anymore. They are more like pouches that beg to be punctured from the bottom and propped against something so they don't leak all over the table. The pouch is set up to sit on its own only one way, obviously created by a man who doesn't have kids. Multiple jokes were made concerning each other's "nuggets", resulting in ketchup on noses and insane giggles. Moments later I looked up and realized the big mistake of the lunch menu. I cut bananas up and poked some toothpicks into several of them. The contest was on. How many bananas with toothpicks can one nine year old pick up at once? Is it possible to then shove all those bananas in your mouth without serious injury from said toothpicks? What about chewing up that banana as you snort laugh out your nose? If you snort hard enough, will the banana come out your nose also? Suddenly I was immersed in a typical lunch room scenario, surrounded by fourth grade boys.
Nuggets gulped, bananas slurped, and juice boxes drained. I thought it was over until the inflating of the empty juice pouch began. I could see where this was headed, juice was preparing to splatter my kitchen from the "empty" pouch. I quickly grabbed both away and tossed them only to be confronted with two boys trying to stab bouncy balls with toothpicks. Never again would I channel the appetizer trays of the seventies when boys were involved.
The boys went outside immediately. There is snow on the ground and the sun is shining, what else do you need? Two hours later I called them in to eat lunch. I made Spaghettios from scratch before finding out that the friend was not deviating from the standard Chicken Nugget fare. A few moments longer and they had choices of entrees, because all nine year olds should have that at lunch time.
This was when the fun began. Juice boxes aren't always boxy anymore. They are more like pouches that beg to be punctured from the bottom and propped against something so they don't leak all over the table. The pouch is set up to sit on its own only one way, obviously created by a man who doesn't have kids. Multiple jokes were made concerning each other's "nuggets", resulting in ketchup on noses and insane giggles. Moments later I looked up and realized the big mistake of the lunch menu. I cut bananas up and poked some toothpicks into several of them. The contest was on. How many bananas with toothpicks can one nine year old pick up at once? Is it possible to then shove all those bananas in your mouth without serious injury from said toothpicks? What about chewing up that banana as you snort laugh out your nose? If you snort hard enough, will the banana come out your nose also? Suddenly I was immersed in a typical lunch room scenario, surrounded by fourth grade boys.
Nuggets gulped, bananas slurped, and juice boxes drained. I thought it was over until the inflating of the empty juice pouch began. I could see where this was headed, juice was preparing to splatter my kitchen from the "empty" pouch. I quickly grabbed both away and tossed them only to be confronted with two boys trying to stab bouncy balls with toothpicks. Never again would I channel the appetizer trays of the seventies when boys were involved.
I'm so sorry...
Most women I know have apologized to their mothers at least once. And it tends to happen about the time their daughters hit the preteen years. I know I have on multiple occasions. Just picked up the phone, dialed the number, and when mom answered, a simple "I'm sorry" pops out of my mouth. This is usually followed by a laugh and the question, "What did she do now?" Because moms know. They lived it once. When we were lovely preteens (she says with sarcasm oozing) sharing our hormonal surges with everyone whether they asked or not. Who bore the brunt of this? Our mothers.
I am currently reliving seventh grade. I have the prodigal daughter, who is a wonderful girl, to everyone else. Following the path carved by the first mother and daughter, she is comfortable enough to share ALL her emotions and frustrations and joys with me. Of course most of the joys are reserved for her friends and I get the rest. I found out this morning that the clothes in the dryer were not quite dry, and it was my fault. I am the one who transferred the clothes to the dryer the night before. So many they could have dried for 2 hours and still been damp. But I should have known and restarted the dryer. She needed those clothes for school!
I really didn't enjoy seventh grade the first time around. Not enough to really remember anything special from it other than getting my ears pierced. Beyond that, I remember giving an oral report in English and looking over the heads of all my classmates so I didn't have to make eye contact. I might have sung in the chorus, but we all knew that wouldn't last, my tune bucket had a huge hole in it. I had a few friends and might have trick or treated with Becky one last time. Not much else comes to mind.
Teaching middle school reinforced the idea that seventh grade is the worst. The hormones have begun to rage, alliances are broken and reformed, boys begin to be interesting, and life speeds up. As a mom, I am just along for the ride. I don't get a say and it wouldn't matter if I did say anything, she isn't listening. I am the last person she expects to have answers and the surprise when I actually do know what I am talking about, is genuine.
Someday I may be the Scarecrow and get a brain, but not right now. Now I am just calling my mom periodically and saying, "I'm sorry".
I am currently reliving seventh grade. I have the prodigal daughter, who is a wonderful girl, to everyone else. Following the path carved by the first mother and daughter, she is comfortable enough to share ALL her emotions and frustrations and joys with me. Of course most of the joys are reserved for her friends and I get the rest. I found out this morning that the clothes in the dryer were not quite dry, and it was my fault. I am the one who transferred the clothes to the dryer the night before. So many they could have dried for 2 hours and still been damp. But I should have known and restarted the dryer. She needed those clothes for school!
I really didn't enjoy seventh grade the first time around. Not enough to really remember anything special from it other than getting my ears pierced. Beyond that, I remember giving an oral report in English and looking over the heads of all my classmates so I didn't have to make eye contact. I might have sung in the chorus, but we all knew that wouldn't last, my tune bucket had a huge hole in it. I had a few friends and might have trick or treated with Becky one last time. Not much else comes to mind.
Teaching middle school reinforced the idea that seventh grade is the worst. The hormones have begun to rage, alliances are broken and reformed, boys begin to be interesting, and life speeds up. As a mom, I am just along for the ride. I don't get a say and it wouldn't matter if I did say anything, she isn't listening. I am the last person she expects to have answers and the surprise when I actually do know what I am talking about, is genuine.
Someday I may be the Scarecrow and get a brain, but not right now. Now I am just calling my mom periodically and saying, "I'm sorry".
Getting Braces
I took a ride out to Williamsville Monday. Not the best day to be traveling into the snow belt of Western New York, but it wasn't as nasty as it could have been. Of course I have been accused of making less of the weather and road conditions than I should. Hey, I have lived in Western New York or Michigan most of my life, and all of my driving career. It is not a place for the faint of heart to drive.
Was I randomly choosing places on the map to drive? No, I was transporting the prodigal daughter to the orthodontist for braces. It was beginning. Two years of really paying attention to her teeth, making sure she eats off the approved menu, reminding her to brush often. Two years of monthly visits to check that we are putting words into action and following the above directives. Oh Goody!!!
She made it through the placement of top braces and came out sporting Christmas colors per her brother's suggestion. She apparently didn't even notice they were putting them on until the color choice came up. We ended with Mommy writing the first of many checks, (sigh) and headed down the road to the mall in search of sustenance. We found some pizza, at 10:45 am, and then did a bit of Christmas shopping for her siblings. It was fun and we were silly.
The best part of the morning? The ride to Williamsville because she talked most of the way. It was one of those moments where you realize you are being a decent parent. She was talking about the crazy maze that is middle school, and seventh grade especially. And she seemed pretty stable and realistic about the whole mess. It was definitely a much better place than I remember being in at that age. Almost adult...
The moments are few, but when they show up, I grab them and hold on. Those brief times when mom and daughter are in sync, listening and sharing with each other, when I am actually "cool" to talk to. Who would ever think that braces could end up being a blessing.
Was I randomly choosing places on the map to drive? No, I was transporting the prodigal daughter to the orthodontist for braces. It was beginning. Two years of really paying attention to her teeth, making sure she eats off the approved menu, reminding her to brush often. Two years of monthly visits to check that we are putting words into action and following the above directives. Oh Goody!!!
She made it through the placement of top braces and came out sporting Christmas colors per her brother's suggestion. She apparently didn't even notice they were putting them on until the color choice came up. We ended with Mommy writing the first of many checks, (sigh) and headed down the road to the mall in search of sustenance. We found some pizza, at 10:45 am, and then did a bit of Christmas shopping for her siblings. It was fun and we were silly.
The best part of the morning? The ride to Williamsville because she talked most of the way. It was one of those moments where you realize you are being a decent parent. She was talking about the crazy maze that is middle school, and seventh grade especially. And she seemed pretty stable and realistic about the whole mess. It was definitely a much better place than I remember being in at that age. Almost adult...
The moments are few, but when they show up, I grab them and hold on. Those brief times when mom and daughter are in sync, listening and sharing with each other, when I am actually "cool" to talk to. Who would ever think that braces could end up being a blessing.
Christmas creeps up
Before Thanksgiving I was determined to get my Christmas shopping done ahead of time. I was going to order it all and have it sent to my doorstep, so all I had left was to wrap and tag. Damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead, I was going to be ORGANIZED!
It is now the second of December. I have one box on its way with four whopping things in it. I have a notebook for ideas that is pretty empty. I have a mind that is blank when it comes to ideas. Apparently my torpedoes were duds.
It doesn't help that I was cruising one night on the Borders website. I had a cart full, it would have put me well ahead in the Christmas race. There were a few glitches in the site that night, I had to refresh quite a bit, but that's okay, I have patience...sort of. After the fortieth refresh and go back, go forward set of the game, I decided to check out and call it good. Except that was not part of Borders.com's plan. It wanted to keep playing. I agreed and we continued the game for ten minutes more, until I literally threw my hands in the air and quit. Dumped the whole thing. I didn't even write down what was in my basket, a huge mistake for the woman who seems to remember nothing unless she writes it down.
The next day I received a blanket email from Borders.com. They were sorry for any inconvenience I experienced when trying to order. Sending out the reminders regarding the ten dollar Border bucks people earned expiring had resulted in a huge surge of users on the website. Hmmm...SHOCKING! It is the Christmas season, people are buying gifts, more are shopping online than ever, and you sent out a reminder they had a bonus ten dollars off along with the two other discounts you advertised. I am SHOCKED and APPALLED that your site crashed. Ridiculous technology.
No where in this email did Borders offer to extend the expire date on the unused Borders Bucks. They were willing to admit it might have been a mistake to remind all those people, but were not about to extend the benefit. Okey-dokey. This means Borders.com now joins BarnesandNoble.com on my list of least desirable websites to use at the holidays.
And I am not any closer to being done. At least I have two kids who are happy to remind me how many days I have left before I have to be done.
It is now the second of December. I have one box on its way with four whopping things in it. I have a notebook for ideas that is pretty empty. I have a mind that is blank when it comes to ideas. Apparently my torpedoes were duds.
It doesn't help that I was cruising one night on the Borders website. I had a cart full, it would have put me well ahead in the Christmas race. There were a few glitches in the site that night, I had to refresh quite a bit, but that's okay, I have patience...sort of. After the fortieth refresh and go back, go forward set of the game, I decided to check out and call it good. Except that was not part of Borders.com's plan. It wanted to keep playing. I agreed and we continued the game for ten minutes more, until I literally threw my hands in the air and quit. Dumped the whole thing. I didn't even write down what was in my basket, a huge mistake for the woman who seems to remember nothing unless she writes it down.
The next day I received a blanket email from Borders.com. They were sorry for any inconvenience I experienced when trying to order. Sending out the reminders regarding the ten dollar Border bucks people earned expiring had resulted in a huge surge of users on the website. Hmmm...SHOCKING! It is the Christmas season, people are buying gifts, more are shopping online than ever, and you sent out a reminder they had a bonus ten dollars off along with the two other discounts you advertised. I am SHOCKED and APPALLED that your site crashed. Ridiculous technology.
No where in this email did Borders offer to extend the expire date on the unused Borders Bucks. They were willing to admit it might have been a mistake to remind all those people, but were not about to extend the benefit. Okey-dokey. This means Borders.com now joins BarnesandNoble.com on my list of least desirable websites to use at the holidays.
And I am not any closer to being done. At least I have two kids who are happy to remind me how many days I have left before I have to be done.
If only's
Sometimes I make the mistake of comparing my life to other people's. And I forget in this comparison how lucky we actually are as a family. You know the game, the "if only" one where you think about the choices you made and wonder what would be if you had made different ones. Everyone does it, and it always frustrates me when I do. Facebook doesn't help this game because it allows us to share every last triumph with each other. All the fun stuff, vacations, new homes, weddings, moves, etc. It is all out there, just waiting for everyone to look at and start the "if only's".
In the last month I have been reminded of how lucky my family is. I take for granted some aspects of my life that make others "oohh" and "aahh". We have a place we can stay in State College, Pennsylvania, home of Penn State University. My parents bought it and freely share it with all of us. My family has availed itself of this hospitality multiple times in the last month. It is close enough to visit for the weekend, with out half of it spent in a car. It is far enough south that the temperature seems to be about 10 degrees warmer. It has a stocked pantry and easy access to several grocery stores. And PSU sits there, waiting to be explored.
My kids love it. We went and watched Big Ten Soccer this fall several times. We have been to women's volleyball and watched one of the best teams in the nation play. My beloved Spartans showed up for a men's basketball game last year that we attended. We have sat in the new baseball stadium under the lights while PSU and Indiana played baseball. We love Shaver's Creek, the raptor recovery center. My brother and I went to the MSU-PSU football game this past weekend with my parents. (and watched MSU FINALLY win one in Beaver Stadium) My kids are being exposed to life at a large university with all the trimmings. The fun and advantages that come with a place that size. They are becoming comfortable in this type of setting.
We don't have a Wii, we don't have new cars every other year. We don't have the latest, greatest phones or new laptops for all. Instead we are creating experiences that will be remembered around the Thanksgiving table just as my brother and I reminisced about our college years at the table Friday.
If only...thank goodness I made the choices I did.
In the last month I have been reminded of how lucky my family is. I take for granted some aspects of my life that make others "oohh" and "aahh". We have a place we can stay in State College, Pennsylvania, home of Penn State University. My parents bought it and freely share it with all of us. My family has availed itself of this hospitality multiple times in the last month. It is close enough to visit for the weekend, with out half of it spent in a car. It is far enough south that the temperature seems to be about 10 degrees warmer. It has a stocked pantry and easy access to several grocery stores. And PSU sits there, waiting to be explored.
My kids love it. We went and watched Big Ten Soccer this fall several times. We have been to women's volleyball and watched one of the best teams in the nation play. My beloved Spartans showed up for a men's basketball game last year that we attended. We have sat in the new baseball stadium under the lights while PSU and Indiana played baseball. We love Shaver's Creek, the raptor recovery center. My brother and I went to the MSU-PSU football game this past weekend with my parents. (and watched MSU FINALLY win one in Beaver Stadium) My kids are being exposed to life at a large university with all the trimmings. The fun and advantages that come with a place that size. They are becoming comfortable in this type of setting.
We don't have a Wii, we don't have new cars every other year. We don't have the latest, greatest phones or new laptops for all. Instead we are creating experiences that will be remembered around the Thanksgiving table just as my brother and I reminisced about our college years at the table Friday.
If only...thank goodness I made the choices I did.
Pulling myself up
I have spent the last few weeks trying to pull myself out of the hole I felt like I was living in. It took conscious effort on my part, a lot of finding the good in life and remembering others have it worse. It is still not great in my world, but it is better. I am making time for what is important in my life. What I am interested in. The activities that make me feel better, accomplished, useful. Sometimes it is simple, like uploading the photos accumulating on my camera or watching the wind move through the leaves on the trees in the backyard. Achievement and serenity.
Watching the kids during Youth Sunday moved me closer to my goal. The exuberance they poured into the Spontaneous Melodramatic Gospel made you think differently about the story. It brought Jesus and the rest down to a human level. Even the guy who supposedly had it all together and was on a great mission, joked around and had some fun now and then. Standing at the altar with them as Father Al blessed the wafers and wine I felt the peace descend. Awe and wonder, curiosity addressed and satisfied, silent and respectful, they watched the crux of the service performed in front of them. I left that day calmer and more centered. I went home and took my time, managed what I could and didn't worry about what wasn't done.
I let go and let God. And it felt good.
Watching the kids during Youth Sunday moved me closer to my goal. The exuberance they poured into the Spontaneous Melodramatic Gospel made you think differently about the story. It brought Jesus and the rest down to a human level. Even the guy who supposedly had it all together and was on a great mission, joked around and had some fun now and then. Standing at the altar with them as Father Al blessed the wafers and wine I felt the peace descend. Awe and wonder, curiosity addressed and satisfied, silent and respectful, they watched the crux of the service performed in front of them. I left that day calmer and more centered. I went home and took my time, managed what I could and didn't worry about what wasn't done.
I let go and let God. And it felt good.
Nothing much
I have things I want to write about, but don't have the energy to sit and do it. Which makes no sense, not having the energy to sit, but it's the truth. Here it is, the end of the weekend, and I am drained. I feel like I have been on overdrive the last few months and am struggling to find my balance again.
Today I ironed while watching silly chick flicks on a free Starz weekend. I ended up sitting in my bedroom watching Sweet Home Alabama, and I actually taped the last 20 minutes of it so I could finish watching when the kids went to bed. And it made me happy. That and peeling more apples for applesauce. There is something very satisfying about peeling apples. The movements, the visual accomplishment, the knowledge that they will be very satisfying this winter after being cooked and jarred.
My stress is high and my dance card is overly full. I need to reject some partners for a while and get myself back together. I need to look at what I am doing that gives me fulfillment and joy, and what I am doing because I think someone needs to. Letting go of the "needs to" pieces will help. Some one else will pick up these pieces, or they won't, but I can't fix everything. CP, you understand, the ugly "no problem" monster is rearing his head in my life. I need to give it the Heisman and move on. Dood, my lists have grown and a game of backgammon would clear them, but my mental eraser will have to do.
I need to be okay with sitting still again, relaxing, going for the walk when the sun is shining and leaving the dishes in the sink, doing nothing much.
Today I ironed while watching silly chick flicks on a free Starz weekend. I ended up sitting in my bedroom watching Sweet Home Alabama, and I actually taped the last 20 minutes of it so I could finish watching when the kids went to bed. And it made me happy. That and peeling more apples for applesauce. There is something very satisfying about peeling apples. The movements, the visual accomplishment, the knowledge that they will be very satisfying this winter after being cooked and jarred.
My stress is high and my dance card is overly full. I need to reject some partners for a while and get myself back together. I need to look at what I am doing that gives me fulfillment and joy, and what I am doing because I think someone needs to. Letting go of the "needs to" pieces will help. Some one else will pick up these pieces, or they won't, but I can't fix everything. CP, you understand, the ugly "no problem" monster is rearing his head in my life. I need to give it the Heisman and move on. Dood, my lists have grown and a game of backgammon would clear them, but my mental eraser will have to do.
I need to be okay with sitting still again, relaxing, going for the walk when the sun is shining and leaving the dishes in the sink, doing nothing much.
Words
I have always told people I love books. And I do. Today I had a realization when I was looking at coffee shop names. We are trying to be clever at work and name the spots that have Keurig machines. The one in the library is called "Starbooks".
I was looking at the different names people had used to name their restaurants and came across the name "Frying Nemo". I began to giggle and then the laughter followed. I just couldn't stop saying it. Out loud and in my head. When ever I wanted a chuckle the rest of the day, I thought about eating at Frying Nemo's and what I would order. Later one of the kids created a word, "compassly" when talking about geographic directions. I added it to my storage chest of phrases that make me smile.
Sitting here tonight I remembered those moments and realized something. It isn't just reading that I like, I really like the components that create what I read. I love the words. The pictures they create in my head, the way they sound when spoken. Putting them together in different ways that rearranges the meaning completely. It's the words themselves that give me such pleasure. I realized when I was watching a movie, my head was adding words to the moving picture. Continuing the story the movie was telling with my own words.
I love the words. I have bought books because of the way the words were placed on the page. The word placement, not what the words said. It's the words.
I was looking at the different names people had used to name their restaurants and came across the name "Frying Nemo". I began to giggle and then the laughter followed. I just couldn't stop saying it. Out loud and in my head. When ever I wanted a chuckle the rest of the day, I thought about eating at Frying Nemo's and what I would order. Later one of the kids created a word, "compassly" when talking about geographic directions. I added it to my storage chest of phrases that make me smile.
Sitting here tonight I remembered those moments and realized something. It isn't just reading that I like, I really like the components that create what I read. I love the words. The pictures they create in my head, the way they sound when spoken. Putting them together in different ways that rearranges the meaning completely. It's the words themselves that give me such pleasure. I realized when I was watching a movie, my head was adding words to the moving picture. Continuing the story the movie was telling with my own words.
I love the words. I have bought books because of the way the words were placed on the page. The word placement, not what the words said. It's the words.
Controversy
I wonder why we, as a society, continue to blame large groups of people for the actions of a few. Why would I wonder this? The controversy in NYC about where to build a mosque comes to mind. Why would anyone think everyone who practices Islam voted to fly planes into the Twin Towers? This is what the mosque protesters are saying. They are ignoring the fact that the group behind the destruction belonged to a fanatic break away group who have warped the principles of Islam to suit their own desires. This is not part of the true Islamic religion. Should we blame all Spaniards for the Inquisition? How about all white Germans for the Holocaust? What about blaming all white young men in their twenties for the Oklahoma City Bombings? Is this okay?
All the mosque protesters and Koran burners are saying it is. This only breeds more hate and allows groups like al-Quaeda to flourish. It perpetuates what happened nine years ago. It doesn't prove a point, it doesn't punish the people who created and implemented the tragedy. It persecutes people and belittles their beliefs, in the same fashion al-Quaeda did when flying planes into buildings in 2001. If this is what they want to accomplish, they are doing a great job.
I seem to remember a phrase about turning the other cheek and another about loving your neighbor. I would guess the protesters consider themselves good Christians, and I know the religious leader who wants to burn the Koran considers himself one. Apparently they missed these sections of the Christian tenet. Maybe instead of denying groups their freedom of religion and burning books, they should pick one up. The Bible or the Constitution would work.
All the mosque protesters and Koran burners are saying it is. This only breeds more hate and allows groups like al-Quaeda to flourish. It perpetuates what happened nine years ago. It doesn't prove a point, it doesn't punish the people who created and implemented the tragedy. It persecutes people and belittles their beliefs, in the same fashion al-Quaeda did when flying planes into buildings in 2001. If this is what they want to accomplish, they are doing a great job.
I seem to remember a phrase about turning the other cheek and another about loving your neighbor. I would guess the protesters consider themselves good Christians, and I know the religious leader who wants to burn the Koran considers himself one. Apparently they missed these sections of the Christian tenet. Maybe instead of denying groups their freedom of religion and burning books, they should pick one up. The Bible or the Constitution would work.
Cursed Tire
I recently told the saga of trying to get to Rhode Island and the tire picking up a screw. Yesterday I was headed to the HS building for the afternoon and needed to stop at the house for my key. On the way toward Nunda, the right rear tire warning came up. The tire pressure was low. Sometimes this happens when the weather changes drastically. Then the warning light went on. Turning onto my street, the car stuttered. What was going on???
I managed to get the car into the driveway and climbed out. Then I heard it. The hiss of air escaping from a tire. The same tire that had the screw in it! WHAT!? I headed into the house, grabbed the key and called work to tell them about the problem. Now how to get to work? Because that tire was FLAT.
I called my inlaws, forgetting that my father-in-law was golfing. No go there. So I put on my sneakers, hefted my backpack, grabbed an umbrella, and started off. Yep, I walked to work in my skirt and sneakers, feeling like Melanie Griffith in Working Girl. All that was missing was the big hair and shoulder pads.
The car now has the donut spare on it and we are trying to figure out how and where to replace four big tires. All four because we were planning to replace them this winter anyway, they needed it. But I made it home, we can drive the car, and the cursed tire is at the local garage.
I managed to get the car into the driveway and climbed out. Then I heard it. The hiss of air escaping from a tire. The same tire that had the screw in it! WHAT!? I headed into the house, grabbed the key and called work to tell them about the problem. Now how to get to work? Because that tire was FLAT.
I called my inlaws, forgetting that my father-in-law was golfing. No go there. So I put on my sneakers, hefted my backpack, grabbed an umbrella, and started off. Yep, I walked to work in my skirt and sneakers, feeling like Melanie Griffith in Working Girl. All that was missing was the big hair and shoulder pads.
The car now has the donut spare on it and we are trying to figure out how and where to replace four big tires. All four because we were planning to replace them this winter anyway, they needed it. But I made it home, we can drive the car, and the cursed tire is at the local garage.
A Sustainable Life
I have been on a bit of a canning frenzy lately. Being overly ambitious this spring, I planted 18 tomato plants, 16 of which lived and flourished. I am now reaping the rewards, and reaping, and reaping. I love the idea of tomatoes in the winter, so I am stepping up and dealing with them.
All this back to the basics of food storage started me thinking about what we eat and where it comes from. Well, that and preparing pork chops that were not from my uncle's farm and didn't smell quite right. Which means they smelled like store pork chops, not fresh ones. (There really is a difference.) I live in a farming community and people are continually surprised and interested in my canning and freezing adventures. Shouldn't they be teaching me? This is what the community does for a living, grow food. We don't have a large farmer's market, or even a consolidated one. This perplexes me.
Then I thought about what our kids eat at school. Jamie Oliver is sweeping the nation, teaching us about how to feed our kids better. First, why does it take a Brit to get it through our thick heads that our eating habits are abysmal? Second, why don't we use any local ingredients in our school cafeterias? The town just to the north started a community garden this summer. I like the idea. I would love to do something like that here. And that is where the plan began to form...
Why couldn't we plant a school garden? Teach kids biology of plants up close and personal? Instruct in the natural preservation of food in Home and Careers? Use home grown produce in our cafeterias? Isn't this what a rural, agricultural based community should do?
I firmly believe my family is healthier because I preserve my own food. I buy what I don't have room to grow from a local farm market and either can or freeze it. I buy my meat from my uncle's. I get local eggs. And none of us needed a flu shot the last few years. Did my kids catch a version of the swine flu last fall? Yes, but it was mild and gone in a week. We still get sick, don't get me wrong. Working in a school is the same as jumping in a pool of flem, snot, and saliva all mixed together. I would be shocked if I wasn't sneezed or coughed on at least once a day. But every year my immune system strengthens and I don't think it is just the constant exposure. I think it is the lack of chemicals and preservatives in what we eat as a family. I think it is the lack of corn syrup and hydrogenated oils. We're not saints. We still have chips, my kids like Pop-Tarts, and we are big fans of cereal. But if I can create it from scratch, I do. I make homemade Mac and Cheese. It really doesn't take much longer than the box mix. I want to figure out how to make a homemade version of Spaghetti-o's. I would love to create my own Cream of Mushroom sauce. I don't know that it is the butter and sugar so much, but the other stuff I can't pronounce that goes in food.
I want to live a sustainable life. I would love to live on a true farm, growing vegetables and fruits, spending late summer and early fall preserving for winter. That would be a sustainable life.
All this back to the basics of food storage started me thinking about what we eat and where it comes from. Well, that and preparing pork chops that were not from my uncle's farm and didn't smell quite right. Which means they smelled like store pork chops, not fresh ones. (There really is a difference.) I live in a farming community and people are continually surprised and interested in my canning and freezing adventures. Shouldn't they be teaching me? This is what the community does for a living, grow food. We don't have a large farmer's market, or even a consolidated one. This perplexes me.
Then I thought about what our kids eat at school. Jamie Oliver is sweeping the nation, teaching us about how to feed our kids better. First, why does it take a Brit to get it through our thick heads that our eating habits are abysmal? Second, why don't we use any local ingredients in our school cafeterias? The town just to the north started a community garden this summer. I like the idea. I would love to do something like that here. And that is where the plan began to form...
Why couldn't we plant a school garden? Teach kids biology of plants up close and personal? Instruct in the natural preservation of food in Home and Careers? Use home grown produce in our cafeterias? Isn't this what a rural, agricultural based community should do?
I firmly believe my family is healthier because I preserve my own food. I buy what I don't have room to grow from a local farm market and either can or freeze it. I buy my meat from my uncle's. I get local eggs. And none of us needed a flu shot the last few years. Did my kids catch a version of the swine flu last fall? Yes, but it was mild and gone in a week. We still get sick, don't get me wrong. Working in a school is the same as jumping in a pool of flem, snot, and saliva all mixed together. I would be shocked if I wasn't sneezed or coughed on at least once a day. But every year my immune system strengthens and I don't think it is just the constant exposure. I think it is the lack of chemicals and preservatives in what we eat as a family. I think it is the lack of corn syrup and hydrogenated oils. We're not saints. We still have chips, my kids like Pop-Tarts, and we are big fans of cereal. But if I can create it from scratch, I do. I make homemade Mac and Cheese. It really doesn't take much longer than the box mix. I want to figure out how to make a homemade version of Spaghetti-o's. I would love to create my own Cream of Mushroom sauce. I don't know that it is the butter and sugar so much, but the other stuff I can't pronounce that goes in food.
I want to live a sustainable life. I would love to live on a true farm, growing vegetables and fruits, spending late summer and early fall preserving for winter. That would be a sustainable life.
Getting to the beach is half the fun - NOT!
We headed to the beach last week on our yearly pilgrimage. To the kids and I, the beach might as well be Mecca, nothing will stop us from getting there. Not even the possibility of a flat tire.
My DH called me outside two evenings before we were scheduled to leave. He pointed at the Acadia's back wheel and said, "Look, there's something in the tire." And there was. It looked like a screw. Not a big deal, take it to the garage and have it fixed, right? WRONG! The Acadia has big tires, 18 inch or something like that, but BIG. Most garages don't stock them. So let's plug the tire. A friend who works on cars said you could, but he didn't know how it would hold up driving on the highway and for that distance. What about a spare? A car this size must have a full sized spare. Nope. Nothing but a doughnut. GGRRRR!!!!!
My mind began to work at this point. How could I solve this issue? Understand, we take the Acadia because we have 3 adults, a preteen, and a small boy going. We need the room to shift around and separate the brother and sister. Beach luggage isn't compact either. Chairs, coolers, towels, reading material, it all takes up space. Could I shove all this into the Malibu? Was Mom's Camry a bit bigger? Should we break down and take two cars? How was I going to do this? My introspection caused my DH to think I was blaming him for the tire, which I wasn't, my mind was working furiously on a solution. The nearest place to put a new tire on was Henrietta, a 45 minute ride on a good day, and it was going to cost more than I had planned to spend on the entire vacation. What to do, what to do?
My mom called the next morning. She had looked into renting a car, but again, a bigger expense than we had budgeted for. I had called the garage in town so they could tell me what exactly was up with the tire. I drove it down and walked myself home, still mulling over the situation. 45 minutes later, the kids and I headed down for the news, and it was all of the positive variety. The screw was less than a half inch long. It was in the thicker part of the tread. They pulled it out and...nothing. No air sneaking out, no plug needed, no new tire in the immediate future. Just a trip to the beach!
All that was left was to pack the car, wait for the grandparents to show up, and jump in. Oh, and a nap for mom because I had spent half the night awake trying to solve the dilemma that wasn't.
My DH called me outside two evenings before we were scheduled to leave. He pointed at the Acadia's back wheel and said, "Look, there's something in the tire." And there was. It looked like a screw. Not a big deal, take it to the garage and have it fixed, right? WRONG! The Acadia has big tires, 18 inch or something like that, but BIG. Most garages don't stock them. So let's plug the tire. A friend who works on cars said you could, but he didn't know how it would hold up driving on the highway and for that distance. What about a spare? A car this size must have a full sized spare. Nope. Nothing but a doughnut. GGRRRR!!!!!
My mind began to work at this point. How could I solve this issue? Understand, we take the Acadia because we have 3 adults, a preteen, and a small boy going. We need the room to shift around and separate the brother and sister. Beach luggage isn't compact either. Chairs, coolers, towels, reading material, it all takes up space. Could I shove all this into the Malibu? Was Mom's Camry a bit bigger? Should we break down and take two cars? How was I going to do this? My introspection caused my DH to think I was blaming him for the tire, which I wasn't, my mind was working furiously on a solution. The nearest place to put a new tire on was Henrietta, a 45 minute ride on a good day, and it was going to cost more than I had planned to spend on the entire vacation. What to do, what to do?
My mom called the next morning. She had looked into renting a car, but again, a bigger expense than we had budgeted for. I had called the garage in town so they could tell me what exactly was up with the tire. I drove it down and walked myself home, still mulling over the situation. 45 minutes later, the kids and I headed down for the news, and it was all of the positive variety. The screw was less than a half inch long. It was in the thicker part of the tread. They pulled it out and...nothing. No air sneaking out, no plug needed, no new tire in the immediate future. Just a trip to the beach!
All that was left was to pack the car, wait for the grandparents to show up, and jump in. Oh, and a nap for mom because I had spent half the night awake trying to solve the dilemma that wasn't.
Looking for something
Our society seems to spend quite a bit of time looking for things. Looking for job fulfillment, looking for love (sometimes in all the wrong places), looking for items to buy, looking for a good book to read. We just keep looking. It makes me wonder if we will ever stop looking ahead and just look around.
Looking ahead isn't bad. If we never looked ahead, I would not be typing on a computer right now. But when is it enough? When do we stop looking ahead, or even looking behind, and just live in the moment? Enjoy what is in front of us? I work hard at appreciating what I have. I try not to look back and wonder what would have happened if I made different choices. I try not to look too far ahead, to plan life before it happens. I don't know how successful I am, but I try.
It's been a long year for me. Family illness, losing people, upheaval at work, and a preteen in the house have all contributed to stress and longing for peace and stability. I have prayed more this year for others than ever before. I have prayed for myself. I know it is working because sometimes a feeling steals over me; contentment, calm, understanding, easing my frantic existence, making it seem that everything will work. It happens most often when I really hand something over to God. I mean really hand it over. Not just the lip service prayer, but truly let it go knowing the hands I've placed it in can hold it and not be weighed down. It is hard to do. I am like a dog with a bone, I worry things until there is nothing left. I am the person you see driving down the road talking to herself. I am the crazy lady who talks to the mirror, who sits in her garden weeding and mumbling to herself. All the time.
Maybe I'm not talking to myself. Maybe this is when I practice giving it over, muttering away about this and that, with no tangible person there listening. Someone is listening, I don't always pay attention to them, but He is always there listening.
Looking ahead isn't bad. If we never looked ahead, I would not be typing on a computer right now. But when is it enough? When do we stop looking ahead, or even looking behind, and just live in the moment? Enjoy what is in front of us? I work hard at appreciating what I have. I try not to look back and wonder what would have happened if I made different choices. I try not to look too far ahead, to plan life before it happens. I don't know how successful I am, but I try.
It's been a long year for me. Family illness, losing people, upheaval at work, and a preteen in the house have all contributed to stress and longing for peace and stability. I have prayed more this year for others than ever before. I have prayed for myself. I know it is working because sometimes a feeling steals over me; contentment, calm, understanding, easing my frantic existence, making it seem that everything will work. It happens most often when I really hand something over to God. I mean really hand it over. Not just the lip service prayer, but truly let it go knowing the hands I've placed it in can hold it and not be weighed down. It is hard to do. I am like a dog with a bone, I worry things until there is nothing left. I am the person you see driving down the road talking to herself. I am the crazy lady who talks to the mirror, who sits in her garden weeding and mumbling to herself. All the time.
Maybe I'm not talking to myself. Maybe this is when I practice giving it over, muttering away about this and that, with no tangible person there listening. Someone is listening, I don't always pay attention to them, but He is always there listening.
I'd like to be a farmgirl
A friend recommended a book to me by Maryjane Butters. It is about being a "farmgirl", and after reading it, I requested her other two from the library. They aren't about milking cows or plowing fields, but instead how the traditional chores and pastimes of women are still alive and worthwhile today. Being a person who finds great satisfaction from creating something with my own two hands, whether it be a garden, food, a decoration, or a piece of writing, this idea appeals to me. I think sometimes we bought into the "be all you can be, you are as good as a man" propaganda too much, devaluing ourselves and what we were already doing. I'm not putting men down, but how many men do you know that can accomplish what women do on a daily basis? We continue to perform our traditional roles, but have added several of the roles men occupy also. Breadwinners and corporate giants trying to prove we are "as good" as men. I already know I can outwork any man.
Last week I froze corn (5 bushels give or take) and canned peaches (2 bushels). This week I am making pickles and corn relish. I am also cooking two pork roasts to be transformed into pulled pork with homemade barbecue sauce for 20 people. I know my own worth. I am considering quilting because I want to produce something beautiful and serviceable for my home and family. I painted my daughter's bedroom this summer. I manage 5 flower gardens and one exuberant vegetable garden. In a few weeks I will put up homemade salsa and stewed tomatoes. Later in the autumn, applesauce will join the rest on my pantry shelves. Donald Trump can sit in his chair and decide who should stay or go on "The Apprentice", but can he handle a day in the kitchen peeling, slicing, packing and processing peaches? My guess is no.
Some people kid me about my excitement over Laura Ingalls Wilder days at our local living history museum. That's okay, because I go as much to celebrate the contributions that women have made and continue to make in the everyday lives of their family and friends. I may never change the world or write a best seller like Laura, but I will provide for my family in so many domestic areas, something that often goes missing in these modern times. And I think that is change enough.
Last week I froze corn (5 bushels give or take) and canned peaches (2 bushels). This week I am making pickles and corn relish. I am also cooking two pork roasts to be transformed into pulled pork with homemade barbecue sauce for 20 people. I know my own worth. I am considering quilting because I want to produce something beautiful and serviceable for my home and family. I painted my daughter's bedroom this summer. I manage 5 flower gardens and one exuberant vegetable garden. In a few weeks I will put up homemade salsa and stewed tomatoes. Later in the autumn, applesauce will join the rest on my pantry shelves. Donald Trump can sit in his chair and decide who should stay or go on "The Apprentice", but can he handle a day in the kitchen peeling, slicing, packing and processing peaches? My guess is no.
Some people kid me about my excitement over Laura Ingalls Wilder days at our local living history museum. That's okay, because I go as much to celebrate the contributions that women have made and continue to make in the everyday lives of their family and friends. I may never change the world or write a best seller like Laura, but I will provide for my family in so many domestic areas, something that often goes missing in these modern times. And I think that is change enough.
Lessons from Joe
I recently learned a lesson in patience. My son just finished 6 weeks with a cast on his right arm that ran from his hand to the middle of his upper arm. He learned to write and feed himself with his left hand. He learned to put on and take off his shirt one handed. He learned to do many things one handed, to the point where it will take a few days for him to get used to using that right hand again.
He didn't complain. He didn't fuss that he couldn't do certain things. He suffered his slightly clumsy parents to snap his upper arm with the rubber of the sleeve we found so he could swim. He dealt with his mother worrying about the fingers on his right hand being dirty and how to get them clean without soaking the cast in water. He wasn't upset when people wrinkled their noses after getting a whiff of the smell coming out of the cast.
He just lived with it. He accepted that this was the way it had to be for a while and he just had to make the best of it. Most adults wouldn't have done so well. It has been a lesson for me, one of many kids have taught me over the years. Kids are adaptable. They take what life delivers and work with it, make the adjustments, and move on. I think it is a valuable lesson and one I will continually remind myself of.
He didn't complain. He didn't fuss that he couldn't do certain things. He suffered his slightly clumsy parents to snap his upper arm with the rubber of the sleeve we found so he could swim. He dealt with his mother worrying about the fingers on his right hand being dirty and how to get them clean without soaking the cast in water. He wasn't upset when people wrinkled their noses after getting a whiff of the smell coming out of the cast.
He just lived with it. He accepted that this was the way it had to be for a while and he just had to make the best of it. Most adults wouldn't have done so well. It has been a lesson for me, one of many kids have taught me over the years. Kids are adaptable. They take what life delivers and work with it, make the adjustments, and move on. I think it is a valuable lesson and one I will continually remind myself of.
There was some extra room on the plate
Just when you think you don't have room for any more on your plate, something else lands on it. It is late spring and school is winding down, baseball and softball are in full swing, gardens are growing weeds like crazy, and I am the chicken with its head cut off trying to keep up. I thought there wasn't room for anything else. I was wrong.
Yesterday I was sitting in the living room with my husband, stepdaughter, and daughter. We were chatting when I heard a scream from the backyard. It was my son and he was screaming "MOMMY!" over and over and crying. I hit the door and met him on the porch. When I asked what was wrong, he said, "I broke my arm." And sure enough he had. One look was all it took for me to know. It looked like the cartoon arms, a bit wavy. I called 911 while I took the wet clothes off and traded them for dry with some help from Angela. The boy had jumped off the trampoline. He has done this before with no problems, but yesterday the law of averages kicked in and pulled his number. (How's that for a mixed metaphor?) Living in a small town, we knew the ambulance crew that showed up and they knew Joe. He and I hopped in the ambulance to head to the emergency room after cautioning Angela to not let her dad drive over to get us. (That's another story for another day)
At the hospital they xrayed him and agreed he had indeed broken both the bones in his arm and would need to be casted. They also said they could straighten the dip with a quick procedure if we wanted. Joe had a brownie and ice cream sandwich and Angela picked us up to go home.
I am now waiting for the doctor to call back so I can take Joe over and fix the arm. He is starving because of the no food or drink before anesthesia rule, and terrified he is going to feel it when they straighten his arm. My heart goes out to him.
So, I am not going to say my plate is now full, but I will say that there isn't much room left. And I am not eating anything to make room for a while!
Yesterday I was sitting in the living room with my husband, stepdaughter, and daughter. We were chatting when I heard a scream from the backyard. It was my son and he was screaming "MOMMY!" over and over and crying. I hit the door and met him on the porch. When I asked what was wrong, he said, "I broke my arm." And sure enough he had. One look was all it took for me to know. It looked like the cartoon arms, a bit wavy. I called 911 while I took the wet clothes off and traded them for dry with some help from Angela. The boy had jumped off the trampoline. He has done this before with no problems, but yesterday the law of averages kicked in and pulled his number. (How's that for a mixed metaphor?) Living in a small town, we knew the ambulance crew that showed up and they knew Joe. He and I hopped in the ambulance to head to the emergency room after cautioning Angela to not let her dad drive over to get us. (That's another story for another day)
At the hospital they xrayed him and agreed he had indeed broken both the bones in his arm and would need to be casted. They also said they could straighten the dip with a quick procedure if we wanted. Joe had a brownie and ice cream sandwich and Angela picked us up to go home.
I am now waiting for the doctor to call back so I can take Joe over and fix the arm. He is starving because of the no food or drink before anesthesia rule, and terrified he is going to feel it when they straighten his arm. My heart goes out to him.
So, I am not going to say my plate is now full, but I will say that there isn't much room left. And I am not eating anything to make room for a while!
A Bit Silly
I watch "Glee". It is one of the only shows on after 9:00 that I can manage to stay awake for and not miss the last 10 minutes. It allows me to live vicariously because I could never have been in the Glee Club. Those who know me well understand. I can't carry a tune in a bucket. I love listening to music, but singing it correctly is beyond me. But I could never get enough of my parent's extensive collection of show tunes and Broadway musicals. How they survived those years of listening to me warble through Godspell and A Chorus Line, I'll never know.
Imagine my excitement last night when Kurt launched into a Barbra Streisand song. Babs is the ultimate singer in my world. My dad had several of her albums and I own the movie "The Mirror Has Two Faces", I am that obsessed. Periodically I forget how powerful her singing is. Last night Glee reminded me again. "One Less Bell to Answer" and "A House is Not a Home" are still classics. Having Kristen Chenoweth sing was just the whipped cream and cherry on top. She has the voice that can pay tribute to Babs.
The show ended with a song from "The Wiz". Another of my favorites, being a die hard Wizard of Oz fan in all its incarnations. I read Baum's original along with many others he wrote about Oz, listened and danced to music from "The Wiz", and will someday see "Wicked" to complete the circle. Any story that can be looked at from so many angles rates in my book. When Kristen Chenoweth launched into "Home", the tears started. The lyrics said everything for me when I was a teenager and continue to affect me today. Everyone searches for their "home", the place they belong, and wishes for more time. Being able to find it in your own backyard, finally acknowledging that what you have been looking for has been there all along, just waiting for you to recognize it, is the goal.
Imagine my excitement last night when Kurt launched into a Barbra Streisand song. Babs is the ultimate singer in my world. My dad had several of her albums and I own the movie "The Mirror Has Two Faces", I am that obsessed. Periodically I forget how powerful her singing is. Last night Glee reminded me again. "One Less Bell to Answer" and "A House is Not a Home" are still classics. Having Kristen Chenoweth sing was just the whipped cream and cherry on top. She has the voice that can pay tribute to Babs.
The show ended with a song from "The Wiz". Another of my favorites, being a die hard Wizard of Oz fan in all its incarnations. I read Baum's original along with many others he wrote about Oz, listened and danced to music from "The Wiz", and will someday see "Wicked" to complete the circle. Any story that can be looked at from so many angles rates in my book. When Kristen Chenoweth launched into "Home", the tears started. The lyrics said everything for me when I was a teenager and continue to affect me today. Everyone searches for their "home", the place they belong, and wishes for more time. Being able to find it in your own backyard, finally acknowledging that what you have been looking for has been there all along, just waiting for you to recognize it, is the goal.
Struggles
I am a believer. I really do think that God is out there somewhere. I have experienced enough in my life to hold onto to this belief. Moments where an unexplained calm descends on me or a solution appears. When I truly need help in my life, it has appeared. I don't always recognize it when it happens, but I don't know that it would have been as effective if I did.
I want to find the good in people, in life, in the world. I am all about the glass being half full, the eternal optimist. I try to treat others as I want to be treated. So is it wrong that I am getting an incredible boost by being able to support some people who are having a tough time? It is really paying off debts to people, who have been there for me in so many ways over the years, but part of my feels guilty, like I am reveling in their obstacles because it allows me good feelings. It is a catch-22 and I am not sure I like being here. Sometimes I feel like I should go put the hair shirt on and whack myself with the cat-o-nine tails for a little humility.
The flip side of this is that in being there for my friend, in trying to support my cousin and great aunt in their struggles, I am combating the depression that is lurking at the edges of my life. The depression that threatens when even my optimism is being oppressed. Work isn't great. It isn't the job itself or the kids. I really enjoy both. It is the atmosphere that lies under the surface, the strain you can feel like a living entity in the building. I don't function well under those circumstances. So I become Dorothy Do-good and try to make everyone else feel better to make myself feel better.
I don't usually discuss religion here because people need to make their own choices regarding faith. I can't make someone believe. I can share my thoughts, but I can't make anyone agree with them. I do wonder if Jesus ever felt this way. Or Paul, or John, or any of the other disciples. Did they get a rush out of providing comfort to others? Is this being selfish even if I am not doing it for the rush, but because I truly want to help?
What a quandary!
I want to find the good in people, in life, in the world. I am all about the glass being half full, the eternal optimist. I try to treat others as I want to be treated. So is it wrong that I am getting an incredible boost by being able to support some people who are having a tough time? It is really paying off debts to people, who have been there for me in so many ways over the years, but part of my feels guilty, like I am reveling in their obstacles because it allows me good feelings. It is a catch-22 and I am not sure I like being here. Sometimes I feel like I should go put the hair shirt on and whack myself with the cat-o-nine tails for a little humility.
The flip side of this is that in being there for my friend, in trying to support my cousin and great aunt in their struggles, I am combating the depression that is lurking at the edges of my life. The depression that threatens when even my optimism is being oppressed. Work isn't great. It isn't the job itself or the kids. I really enjoy both. It is the atmosphere that lies under the surface, the strain you can feel like a living entity in the building. I don't function well under those circumstances. So I become Dorothy Do-good and try to make everyone else feel better to make myself feel better.
I don't usually discuss religion here because people need to make their own choices regarding faith. I can't make someone believe. I can share my thoughts, but I can't make anyone agree with them. I do wonder if Jesus ever felt this way. Or Paul, or John, or any of the other disciples. Did they get a rush out of providing comfort to others? Is this being selfish even if I am not doing it for the rush, but because I truly want to help?
What a quandary!
Making Lemonade
The joy of sunshine on a porch with friends who expect the brutal honesty you are infamous for delivering and actually laugh at some of it. Actually they laughed at most of it, especially when I pulled out the photos. It's been a while since I sat with people who didn't look horrified by my college adventures. I'm thinking one of them has had more adventures than me, so that helps.
The old adage about life giving you lemons? Today I made lemonade and enjoyed every last drop.
The old adage about life giving you lemons? Today I made lemonade and enjoyed every last drop.
Sometimes
Sometimes it is nice to be the giver, not the receiver. To know that for everything a friend has given you when you needed it, even when you were too proud to ask, you can have a chance to give back to them, even if it is only a silly e-card.
Sometimes it is nice to find an old friend and be able to dream big dreams with them again. You may be miles apart, but dreams travel well on the wind. It makes me smile to think of us at a Buffett concert, in the sunshine, with big, silly smiles.
Sometimes it is nice to know that even if your clothes don't fit you anymore, they will fit one of your forever friends. That you can box them up and pass them on to the delight of another person. And they will box others up and pass them back.
Sometimes it is nice to get a phone call during an MSU basketball game from someone who was there and understands the excitement you feel when they win. Who shares a history riddled with some way high ups and all the way to the bottom downs, but still touches base.
Sometimes it is nice to see a baby arrive to a person who has more than enough love and generosity to raise this little person into someone who looks with wonder on the world and knows they can change it.
Sometimes knowing what good friends I have makes me cry. But it is the right kind of crying, the one that goes along with being grateful.
Sometimes it is nice to find an old friend and be able to dream big dreams with them again. You may be miles apart, but dreams travel well on the wind. It makes me smile to think of us at a Buffett concert, in the sunshine, with big, silly smiles.
Sometimes it is nice to know that even if your clothes don't fit you anymore, they will fit one of your forever friends. That you can box them up and pass them on to the delight of another person. And they will box others up and pass them back.
Sometimes it is nice to get a phone call during an MSU basketball game from someone who was there and understands the excitement you feel when they win. Who shares a history riddled with some way high ups and all the way to the bottom downs, but still touches base.
Sometimes it is nice to see a baby arrive to a person who has more than enough love and generosity to raise this little person into someone who looks with wonder on the world and knows they can change it.
Sometimes knowing what good friends I have makes me cry. But it is the right kind of crying, the one that goes along with being grateful.
I must have traveled down a thousand roads...
I am a reader. I always have been. Words put together pictures in my head, sustain me, and comfort me. I am in awe of those who write well. Who put words together in a fashion that reflect what is inside of me. Sometimes I am able to do this, others I am not. I would like to call myself a writer also, but don't know that I am there yet.
Today I finished The Longest Trip Home, by John Grogan, the man who wrote Marley and Me. I loved Marley and his antics, but this story was about John's life. It was set outside Detroit, MI, and described his Catholic upbringing and his natural inclination to rebel against some of the constraints of this upbringing. This led to guilt because of his upbringing, which he never really conquered, but learned to live with in his thirties. The book ends with John's father dying and John writing his eulogy while sitting at his bedside. I admit, I cried as I read the last few chapters. I have been there and done that. Not with a parent, but for both of my mom's parents. Whether I believe it or not, her family thinks I am a writer. They have for years, even back when I was churning out goofy rhyming poems and teenage angst-ridden pieces. They are bit biased, so I am never sure if what I write for them is truly well-written or just expresses something they are unable to say. Which I guess, looking at it, is the same thing.
I wrote a poem for my grandfather's funeral. It was my way of dealing with the emotion that swirled around me. He passed quickly, without warning to us, and there was much to process. He was a farmer, but so much more. I expressed that idea among images I remembered, trying to create pictures of my feelings. I shared it with my mom and she shared it with her brothers, and the next thing I knew, it was typed and put in my hands to read at his service. I made it through with only minimal tears, choking just at the end because I knew it was too important to mess up. Too many people were counting on me to help them through the grief.
A few years later I was in the same position, but it was my grandmother this time. She had contracted a form of lung cancer and quickly deteriorated. I planned a trip to see her, but she passed away the week before. Once again I was in the farmhouse dealing with grief. My mom had lost both parents and I was bereft of grandparents, my father's having passed on while I was in junior high and college. My mom asked me outright to give my grandmother's eulogy. There was no question in her mind who needed to be in charge of this. Later she asked if I wanted to and then I couldn't say no. I knew the family was depending on me.
I think knowing I was expected to write made it harder. How to express an entire family's feelings into a few short paragraphs? I was responsible for everyone's emotions and memories, not just my own. I puttered around the farmhouse wondering what to say and finally found it in the overflowing drawers and cupboards, stuffed full of the lives of the people who were expecting me to write. I had to look past the many Cool Whip containers and laundry soap scoops to realize the Depression-fueled desire to always have enough that motivated my grandmother to never throw anything away, had caused her to store away my mom and her brother's lives too. Napkins, invitations, photos, cards, birth and death notices, newspaper clippings, they were all there. My life was there also. And so were my brother and cousin's. I drew from this and again spoke to comfort and remember, this time with more tears.
It was only after this that I was able to polish and share the story I had written several months after my grandfather's death. The story told through the eyes of my youngest cousin Maggie, to try and understand why that particular Christmas was so different than the others. I watched their faces as they read the story and knew I had it right.
Maybe this is how you know that for a moment, you are a writer. Your words strike a chord in another person. They provide a manner of expression for people when they are unable to express on their own. Writing and I have traveled many roads in my quest to satisfy the need in me to write, to pull the words from my head and place them on the paper so the reader sees something worthwhile in them. I even quit writing for a long time. Now I understand that this is a good addiction. A healthy struggle that may or may not amount to more than a personal expression.
Today I finished The Longest Trip Home, by John Grogan, the man who wrote Marley and Me. I loved Marley and his antics, but this story was about John's life. It was set outside Detroit, MI, and described his Catholic upbringing and his natural inclination to rebel against some of the constraints of this upbringing. This led to guilt because of his upbringing, which he never really conquered, but learned to live with in his thirties. The book ends with John's father dying and John writing his eulogy while sitting at his bedside. I admit, I cried as I read the last few chapters. I have been there and done that. Not with a parent, but for both of my mom's parents. Whether I believe it or not, her family thinks I am a writer. They have for years, even back when I was churning out goofy rhyming poems and teenage angst-ridden pieces. They are bit biased, so I am never sure if what I write for them is truly well-written or just expresses something they are unable to say. Which I guess, looking at it, is the same thing.
I wrote a poem for my grandfather's funeral. It was my way of dealing with the emotion that swirled around me. He passed quickly, without warning to us, and there was much to process. He was a farmer, but so much more. I expressed that idea among images I remembered, trying to create pictures of my feelings. I shared it with my mom and she shared it with her brothers, and the next thing I knew, it was typed and put in my hands to read at his service. I made it through with only minimal tears, choking just at the end because I knew it was too important to mess up. Too many people were counting on me to help them through the grief.
A few years later I was in the same position, but it was my grandmother this time. She had contracted a form of lung cancer and quickly deteriorated. I planned a trip to see her, but she passed away the week before. Once again I was in the farmhouse dealing with grief. My mom had lost both parents and I was bereft of grandparents, my father's having passed on while I was in junior high and college. My mom asked me outright to give my grandmother's eulogy. There was no question in her mind who needed to be in charge of this. Later she asked if I wanted to and then I couldn't say no. I knew the family was depending on me.
I think knowing I was expected to write made it harder. How to express an entire family's feelings into a few short paragraphs? I was responsible for everyone's emotions and memories, not just my own. I puttered around the farmhouse wondering what to say and finally found it in the overflowing drawers and cupboards, stuffed full of the lives of the people who were expecting me to write. I had to look past the many Cool Whip containers and laundry soap scoops to realize the Depression-fueled desire to always have enough that motivated my grandmother to never throw anything away, had caused her to store away my mom and her brother's lives too. Napkins, invitations, photos, cards, birth and death notices, newspaper clippings, they were all there. My life was there also. And so were my brother and cousin's. I drew from this and again spoke to comfort and remember, this time with more tears.
It was only after this that I was able to polish and share the story I had written several months after my grandfather's death. The story told through the eyes of my youngest cousin Maggie, to try and understand why that particular Christmas was so different than the others. I watched their faces as they read the story and knew I had it right.
Maybe this is how you know that for a moment, you are a writer. Your words strike a chord in another person. They provide a manner of expression for people when they are unable to express on their own. Writing and I have traveled many roads in my quest to satisfy the need in me to write, to pull the words from my head and place them on the paper so the reader sees something worthwhile in them. I even quit writing for a long time. Now I understand that this is a good addiction. A healthy struggle that may or may not amount to more than a personal expression.
The Little Things
Recently I visited a friend who was just diagnosed with cancer. The person is older and seems to be at peace with the path his life has taken, but isn't quite ready to give up yet. I took him some soup, homemade minestrone, and spent about 45 minutes chatting with him. It wasn't much, but I enjoyed the time and thought he did too.
Today I stopped to drop off a prayer shawl from my church for him. He was sleeping, so I left it with his roommate. We got to talking on the front step. The sun was shining, it was relatively warm for WNY in February, and we were comfortable. The roommate is working on becoming comfortable with the less than bright prognosis, and talking about it seemed to help.
As I was leaving, the roommate mentioned to me how much my previous visit had meant to my friend. He had eaten all the soup, something that relieved the people close to him because he didn't have much appetite, and the conversation was a bright spot for him. It reminded me of a visit with my grandmother before she passed away. It was before she became sick and all of us gathered at the farm without telling her. Her face as we all filed through the door was something I will never forget. My mom says it was one of the things she spoke of often in her last few weeks. And it was just time. We didn't go out to a big dinner, we all went bowling at her favorite lanes and laughed ourselves silly.
I sometimes think we forget that one of the best gifts we can give each other is time. It doesn't have to be much, it doesn't have to be elaborate or some where special, it just needs to be given. Imagine what our world would be like if everyone was to freely give someone else an hour every month. Then imagine if we all gave that much a week. Showed someone that they were worth spending those minutes with. It's free, no cost, no taxes on time.
Time is one of those little things that make the difference. My friend mentioned he would like to have people come and play cards during the time that remains to him. I'll be there, smiling and listening, with my jar of homemade soup.
Today I stopped to drop off a prayer shawl from my church for him. He was sleeping, so I left it with his roommate. We got to talking on the front step. The sun was shining, it was relatively warm for WNY in February, and we were comfortable. The roommate is working on becoming comfortable with the less than bright prognosis, and talking about it seemed to help.
As I was leaving, the roommate mentioned to me how much my previous visit had meant to my friend. He had eaten all the soup, something that relieved the people close to him because he didn't have much appetite, and the conversation was a bright spot for him. It reminded me of a visit with my grandmother before she passed away. It was before she became sick and all of us gathered at the farm without telling her. Her face as we all filed through the door was something I will never forget. My mom says it was one of the things she spoke of often in her last few weeks. And it was just time. We didn't go out to a big dinner, we all went bowling at her favorite lanes and laughed ourselves silly.
I sometimes think we forget that one of the best gifts we can give each other is time. It doesn't have to be much, it doesn't have to be elaborate or some where special, it just needs to be given. Imagine what our world would be like if everyone was to freely give someone else an hour every month. Then imagine if we all gave that much a week. Showed someone that they were worth spending those minutes with. It's free, no cost, no taxes on time.
Time is one of those little things that make the difference. My friend mentioned he would like to have people come and play cards during the time that remains to him. I'll be there, smiling and listening, with my jar of homemade soup.
It's a Date.
My cat and I have a long standing date. It happens every night about 2:30 am. I am asleep, but not deeply because my brain knows it is almost time. It starts to wake me up and I hear the click of George the cat's nails on the hardwood floor. I keep my eyes shut because maybe it is a false alarm, but the gentle pat of a paw on my arm informs me that this is not a drive by, it is the real thing. He wants me to get up. I could ignore him and have tried in the past. All that does is increase his efforts. A quiet meow echoes from the floor, then another pat on my arm. If I opened my eyes I would see him peering at me. Instead I choose to keep them shut. I earn a quick slap on the cheek for my impertinence. What am I thinking, not jumping right up? Understand the longer I wait, the harder and more insistent the slaps become. I can't win this battle. Besides, I am completely awake now.
Romantically dim light shines from the light over the stove and everything is fuzzy because I don't need my glasses to find my way around the house. The usual routine includes a quick game of hide and seek on the stairs. Can I see his dark blob before I step on it and tumble down the stairs? Will I avoid the paws that swipe at my legs as I go by? This is play time in George's world. Next we wander to the food bowls. Have they changed since the last time he checked them? Will I sit and watch him eat a few mouthfuls? Which door should he choose to leave the house? Decisions, decisions.
My patience with this date is slowly waning, and George knows it. He moves toward a door and with his mini circle accomplished, waits for me to open it. Out he heads to meet up with the next female on his "date" list, this one of the feline persuasion. I stumble back up the stairs to bed, knowing I have about three more hours of sleep before the alarm.
Romantically dim light shines from the light over the stove and everything is fuzzy because I don't need my glasses to find my way around the house. The usual routine includes a quick game of hide and seek on the stairs. Can I see his dark blob before I step on it and tumble down the stairs? Will I avoid the paws that swipe at my legs as I go by? This is play time in George's world. Next we wander to the food bowls. Have they changed since the last time he checked them? Will I sit and watch him eat a few mouthfuls? Which door should he choose to leave the house? Decisions, decisions.
My patience with this date is slowly waning, and George knows it. He moves toward a door and with his mini circle accomplished, waits for me to open it. Out he heads to meet up with the next female on his "date" list, this one of the feline persuasion. I stumble back up the stairs to bed, knowing I have about three more hours of sleep before the alarm.
Some Political Thoughts
The State of the Union was on TV the other night. I watched some of it, I think that if I want to verbalize my opinions on our government, I should watch the show they put on for me, unlike the radio call in who stated that maybe they should just put the State of the Union on CNN and MSNBC instead of interrupting his weekly shows with it. He's right, why should anyone miss quality programming like The Bachelor and Survivor for something silly like the direction the government wants to take in the next year? Shame on the government for thinking it was more important than CSI whatever city!
I do have to admit I did not watch the entire State of the Union. I fell asleep.I think part of the reason I feel asleep during the address, aside from the fact it was WAY past my bedtime, is that President Obama really didn't get much chance to actually talk, the Dems were too busy clapping, led by Big Joe. I really wanted to give Joe and Nancy purple and white pom poms, Joe so he could lead the cheers properly, and Nancy so she had something to keep her awake.
I heard quite a bit about bipartisanship, which was NOT exhibited by the crowd in any way, shape, or form. The Democrats were all wishing they had thought to call Joe and Nancy so they could all wear purple and clapping wildly anytime Joe did, and the Republicans looked like HS kids stuck in a boring lecture class. I was a bit ashamed of my party for this behavior. At least be polite and look interested. Their behavior only reinforced the talk that Republicans don't want to get along. Sometimes I really feel like we are living in a suited version of West Side Story, with the Jets and Sharks hammering away at each other. Maybe if we put them all in an alley and make them dance it out, we could create bipartisanship. The dancing wouldn't be pretty, and it might not be as choreographed as Beat It, but if it would settle them down, I say go for it. Close off some of Pennsylvania Ave near the Capitol and let the American people bring their picnic lunches. We could make a day of it.
One of my concerns right now is that we continue to cut areas that probably need funding, but funnel money into other countries. How do you lend other countries money and aid when you are trillions in debt yourself? I sympathize for Haiti, but is there no one else on the planet that can help them? Must it always be us? We will all rush around and raise money for Haiti for the next month, which is admirable, but how many people actually know that Farm Aid still exists and contribute to that?
Do you see any other country that has the amount of military presence in the Middle East that we have? Why must we feel that it is our job to take care of everyone else? Maybe if some of that money was diverted to other areas, we would not be in debt. It is a noble concept to not want people to be repressed, but I think you should take care of the repression in our own backyard BEFORE we look into the neighbors. You want to glimpse third world living? Head to some areas of our great country. It exists right here, but because the majority of people we have to choose from in elections have either never lived a middle class lifestyle, or have forgotten what it was like to live that lifestyle, it doesn't get addressed. When was the last time there was a state dinner that was a barbecue with out the heated white tent and white linens? When was the last time the Senators had meetings that included Poland Springs water and cold cuts to make sandwiches? It makes me crazy.
We are a country run by self-important, inflated sense of self-worth, politicians, who are more worried about selling their personal agendas than they are about taking care of the country they represent. This is the same government that keeps telling the public to tighten their belts, but doesn't seem to think it has to live within its own budget. But I live in a state where the same philosophy holds sway and the governor's answer is to cut funding to education and health care. Because there is no other area that could stand to be trimmed. How about revamping NYS's welfare system that dispenses money to anyone? How about we stop paying people unemployment because they decided to work a seasonal job like paving? No, let's cut education, because then we can end up with more people who will avail themselves of our welfare and unemployment benefits.That is where the American philosophy loses me.
I don't know that anyone wants to compromise because compromise means giving in on some things, letting them go. And the people in charge in government don't seem to be willing to do this. Practice what you preach and things might settle down.
I also read in the Rochester paper the other day that we are getting $151 million in federal stimulus money to pay for the PRELIM work on an 11 mile track of high speed railway. Great! Except it connects to nothing and at this point goes nowhere. No one is forking over the billions to finish the line any time in the foreseeable future. Meanwhile my school district is facing a $606,000 loss in state aid. Which means cuts and probably higher taxes. One of our state Reps. is "thrilled" we received the railroad funding. How about seeking some federal stimulus money to help out with education, that actually has an endpoint and continues to contribute a product to society?
I like the idea of throwing them all out, every last one, and starting all over again. I like the idea that they all have a set budget for campaigning, a small amount, and if they spend more or someone else spends it for them, they are out. No benefactors, no fancy slam ads, just the candidates, speaking to the people. And don't spend thousands + on their inauguration. They aren't royalty.
I do have to admit I did not watch the entire State of the Union. I fell asleep.I think part of the reason I feel asleep during the address, aside from the fact it was WAY past my bedtime, is that President Obama really didn't get much chance to actually talk, the Dems were too busy clapping, led by Big Joe. I really wanted to give Joe and Nancy purple and white pom poms, Joe so he could lead the cheers properly, and Nancy so she had something to keep her awake.
I heard quite a bit about bipartisanship, which was NOT exhibited by the crowd in any way, shape, or form. The Democrats were all wishing they had thought to call Joe and Nancy so they could all wear purple and clapping wildly anytime Joe did, and the Republicans looked like HS kids stuck in a boring lecture class. I was a bit ashamed of my party for this behavior. At least be polite and look interested. Their behavior only reinforced the talk that Republicans don't want to get along. Sometimes I really feel like we are living in a suited version of West Side Story, with the Jets and Sharks hammering away at each other. Maybe if we put them all in an alley and make them dance it out, we could create bipartisanship. The dancing wouldn't be pretty, and it might not be as choreographed as Beat It, but if it would settle them down, I say go for it. Close off some of Pennsylvania Ave near the Capitol and let the American people bring their picnic lunches. We could make a day of it.
One of my concerns right now is that we continue to cut areas that probably need funding, but funnel money into other countries. How do you lend other countries money and aid when you are trillions in debt yourself? I sympathize for Haiti, but is there no one else on the planet that can help them? Must it always be us? We will all rush around and raise money for Haiti for the next month, which is admirable, but how many people actually know that Farm Aid still exists and contribute to that?
Do you see any other country that has the amount of military presence in the Middle East that we have? Why must we feel that it is our job to take care of everyone else? Maybe if some of that money was diverted to other areas, we would not be in debt. It is a noble concept to not want people to be repressed, but I think you should take care of the repression in our own backyard BEFORE we look into the neighbors. You want to glimpse third world living? Head to some areas of our great country. It exists right here, but because the majority of people we have to choose from in elections have either never lived a middle class lifestyle, or have forgotten what it was like to live that lifestyle, it doesn't get addressed. When was the last time there was a state dinner that was a barbecue with out the heated white tent and white linens? When was the last time the Senators had meetings that included Poland Springs water and cold cuts to make sandwiches? It makes me crazy.
We are a country run by self-important, inflated sense of self-worth, politicians, who are more worried about selling their personal agendas than they are about taking care of the country they represent. This is the same government that keeps telling the public to tighten their belts, but doesn't seem to think it has to live within its own budget. But I live in a state where the same philosophy holds sway and the governor's answer is to cut funding to education and health care. Because there is no other area that could stand to be trimmed. How about revamping NYS's welfare system that dispenses money to anyone? How about we stop paying people unemployment because they decided to work a seasonal job like paving? No, let's cut education, because then we can end up with more people who will avail themselves of our welfare and unemployment benefits.That is where the American philosophy loses me.
I don't know that anyone wants to compromise because compromise means giving in on some things, letting them go. And the people in charge in government don't seem to be willing to do this. Practice what you preach and things might settle down.
I also read in the Rochester paper the other day that we are getting $151 million in federal stimulus money to pay for the PRELIM work on an 11 mile track of high speed railway. Great! Except it connects to nothing and at this point goes nowhere. No one is forking over the billions to finish the line any time in the foreseeable future. Meanwhile my school district is facing a $606,000 loss in state aid. Which means cuts and probably higher taxes. One of our state Reps. is "thrilled" we received the railroad funding. How about seeking some federal stimulus money to help out with education, that actually has an endpoint and continues to contribute a product to society?
I like the idea of throwing them all out, every last one, and starting all over again. I like the idea that they all have a set budget for campaigning, a small amount, and if they spend more or someone else spends it for them, they are out. No benefactors, no fancy slam ads, just the candidates, speaking to the people. And don't spend thousands + on their inauguration. They aren't royalty.
What it's all About
There are times when you get whacked by the "life bat" and as you sit there with your head spinning, you wonder where it came from and why it happened. Those are the times others step up. Before you know it, there they are, standing beside you, literally and figuratively, holding you up on all sides. The group includes the usual suspects, the ones who are always there, that you can depend on through the day to day mini struggles, but other faces show up. Faces that aren't part of your regular schedule, but are always in the background, checking up on you, keeping you in their thoughts without the need to express it regularly. These people shore up the first line, adding another layer of cushion to fall back on. The extra support gives you a chance to step back and take a breath once in a while. You know the scaffolding under you won't fall apart, it is reinforced. You can place all your worries on it and it holds them, while comforting you.
What am I grateful in life? The people who are always there, but also the people who quietly take their places in the scaffolding of my life, shoring up the weak spots, lending support that doesn't need to be acknowledged regularly, but is just there.
What am I grateful in life? The people who are always there, but also the people who quietly take their places in the scaffolding of my life, shoring up the weak spots, lending support that doesn't need to be acknowledged regularly, but is just there.
The Stomach Bug Attacks!
The time: 3:20 am
The place: JMumbo's room
I have already been up once because JMumbo was yelling in his sleep. This means one of two things, he watched a movie that gave him bad dreams and will go back to sleep peacefully, or it is going to be one of those nights. We went with the second choice.
I heard him call "Mommy" once and sat straight up in bed. This couldn't be good. Sure enough, by the time I had grabbed my glasses and reached the doorway, he was retching over the side of the bed. The saving grace? We had pulled his carpet up a week and a half ago to replace it with hardwood thanks to the cat leaving a "gift" there earlier this month. Subflooring can handle this activity with minimal collateral damage. Grabbing towels, I wiped his face, the floor and the edge of the sheet. I stripped the bed with some help from Denny, and resettled JMumbo with a strategically placed bucket. The nasty bedclothes went right in the washer.
Back in bed, I couldn't sleep. I read for a while and started to feel drowsy, so I turned out the light and settled in. That is when the cat showed up. He has taken to supplementing his water dish with the condensation from the windows. I wouldn't care but I suspect this is what is causing the stomach trouble he is having that results in the "gifts" through out the house. Up I got to remove him from the window sill. He promptly moved to the next window. Repeat process, sending him on his way this time. I lay back down.
I am a light sleeper. I am the one who hears the cat wander into my room at 1:00 am. I am the one who hears the kids whimper in their sleep. If anyone ever broke into our house, I could greet them at the door, having heard the lock pick working. If I don't hear it, (a) it didn't happen, or (b) I must be sick to the point of exhaustion. This means that the third awakening courtesy of the cat has guaranteed that I will get little sleep the rest of the night. I resigned myself to tossing and turning for a few hours, dozing in and out listening for the next session with JMumbo.
At 5:45 am, it commenced. We made it into the bucket this time and after wiping his face and rinsing his mouth, we headed downstairs. Neither of us were in the mood to sleep anymore.
This Sunday promises a day of bucket emptying and comforting a sick boy. I am sure it is not over, and once it ends for JMumbo, the prodigal daughter will likely take her turn. I can't complain, we have avoided the majority of sickness this year. We had the flu early and only small headcolds at Christmas time. So we have been lucky.
I guess I will count my blessings at home this morning instead of at church, but I am pretty sure God will hear me anyway.
The place: JMumbo's room
I have already been up once because JMumbo was yelling in his sleep. This means one of two things, he watched a movie that gave him bad dreams and will go back to sleep peacefully, or it is going to be one of those nights. We went with the second choice.
I heard him call "Mommy" once and sat straight up in bed. This couldn't be good. Sure enough, by the time I had grabbed my glasses and reached the doorway, he was retching over the side of the bed. The saving grace? We had pulled his carpet up a week and a half ago to replace it with hardwood thanks to the cat leaving a "gift" there earlier this month. Subflooring can handle this activity with minimal collateral damage. Grabbing towels, I wiped his face, the floor and the edge of the sheet. I stripped the bed with some help from Denny, and resettled JMumbo with a strategically placed bucket. The nasty bedclothes went right in the washer.
Back in bed, I couldn't sleep. I read for a while and started to feel drowsy, so I turned out the light and settled in. That is when the cat showed up. He has taken to supplementing his water dish with the condensation from the windows. I wouldn't care but I suspect this is what is causing the stomach trouble he is having that results in the "gifts" through out the house. Up I got to remove him from the window sill. He promptly moved to the next window. Repeat process, sending him on his way this time. I lay back down.
I am a light sleeper. I am the one who hears the cat wander into my room at 1:00 am. I am the one who hears the kids whimper in their sleep. If anyone ever broke into our house, I could greet them at the door, having heard the lock pick working. If I don't hear it, (a) it didn't happen, or (b) I must be sick to the point of exhaustion. This means that the third awakening courtesy of the cat has guaranteed that I will get little sleep the rest of the night. I resigned myself to tossing and turning for a few hours, dozing in and out listening for the next session with JMumbo.
At 5:45 am, it commenced. We made it into the bucket this time and after wiping his face and rinsing his mouth, we headed downstairs. Neither of us were in the mood to sleep anymore.
This Sunday promises a day of bucket emptying and comforting a sick boy. I am sure it is not over, and once it ends for JMumbo, the prodigal daughter will likely take her turn. I can't complain, we have avoided the majority of sickness this year. We had the flu early and only small headcolds at Christmas time. So we have been lucky.
I guess I will count my blessings at home this morning instead of at church, but I am pretty sure God will hear me anyway.
Whew! Another year ahead.
So many new things the last two months of the year, and I didn't really track any of them. I spent most of the time working hard to keep up with it all to be honest. Once again, my Christmas cards suffered, and will become New Year cards, but most of you are used to that.
I added some new pictures of a wedding, my brother's. He remarried the end of November and I added a new sister in law, a niece, and a nephew to my family. They bought a house and everyone has their own bedroom, painted in colors of their choice. Missy Maddy has yellow polka dots also courtesy of Auntie Peggy. They seem to be settling in and happy.
Christmas Eve means a 5:30 service at church, complete with the pageant. We had kids in many new roles this year, and with only a few glitches the story of the birth of Christ was presented and enjoyed. There is a peace that accompanies going to church on Christmas Eve, that really sets the tone for the holiday. The understanding that this is more than the gifts, but instead the wonder that shines from your kids faces as they see the tree for the first time Christmas morning, and my son, proud that Santa sent him a letter.
Christmas morning didn't come quite as early as some years, around 6:30, which made the adults happy. The letter Santa left leading the kids to the basement and a new air hockey table was a hit, with a game being played immediately. With paper flying and bows bouncing, we opened all the gifts and everyone seemed satisfied with the haul. French Toast, eggs, and sausage and potato hash for breakfast, then Prime Rib for dinner rounded out the perfect Christmas day.
Nana and Papa stayed for Christmas this year, so we had 19 at the family gathering after Christmas. Lots of food, including ham for Uncle Steve, and presents for the kids. With ages ranging from the 90's to under a year, we had quite a slice of America.
The kids wanted to stay up and see the ball drop on New Year's Eve, so I stayed up with them. About one minute before I turned to JMumbo to point out the ball, and discovered he has fallen asleep! All that work staying awake, foiled in the last few minutes. No worries, we watched it on the Times Square skycam the next morning.
One last Christmas celebration at the farm meant a drive through some snow both there and back. It was worth the drive to see everyone, including the new puppy Forest, who really liked the prodigal daughter. Our hosts, my cousins, were excellent, and it is always good to spend time in the farmhouse.
What's ahead? Who knows. Another year, some changes I am sure, but hopefully all for good.
I added some new pictures of a wedding, my brother's. He remarried the end of November and I added a new sister in law, a niece, and a nephew to my family. They bought a house and everyone has their own bedroom, painted in colors of their choice. Missy Maddy has yellow polka dots also courtesy of Auntie Peggy. They seem to be settling in and happy.
Christmas Eve means a 5:30 service at church, complete with the pageant. We had kids in many new roles this year, and with only a few glitches the story of the birth of Christ was presented and enjoyed. There is a peace that accompanies going to church on Christmas Eve, that really sets the tone for the holiday. The understanding that this is more than the gifts, but instead the wonder that shines from your kids faces as they see the tree for the first time Christmas morning, and my son, proud that Santa sent him a letter.
Christmas morning didn't come quite as early as some years, around 6:30, which made the adults happy. The letter Santa left leading the kids to the basement and a new air hockey table was a hit, with a game being played immediately. With paper flying and bows bouncing, we opened all the gifts and everyone seemed satisfied with the haul. French Toast, eggs, and sausage and potato hash for breakfast, then Prime Rib for dinner rounded out the perfect Christmas day.
Nana and Papa stayed for Christmas this year, so we had 19 at the family gathering after Christmas. Lots of food, including ham for Uncle Steve, and presents for the kids. With ages ranging from the 90's to under a year, we had quite a slice of America.
The kids wanted to stay up and see the ball drop on New Year's Eve, so I stayed up with them. About one minute before I turned to JMumbo to point out the ball, and discovered he has fallen asleep! All that work staying awake, foiled in the last few minutes. No worries, we watched it on the Times Square skycam the next morning.
One last Christmas celebration at the farm meant a drive through some snow both there and back. It was worth the drive to see everyone, including the new puppy Forest, who really liked the prodigal daughter. Our hosts, my cousins, were excellent, and it is always good to spend time in the farmhouse.
What's ahead? Who knows. Another year, some changes I am sure, but hopefully all for good.
I'd Like to Return This One.
Dear aliens who stole my daughter,
Please return the daughter you stole from my house. The replacement you left is not up to my standards and seems to be defective. It can't remember to tie its shoes in the morning or brush its teeth and hair. Making the bed is a joke and actually putting dishes in the dishwasher is laughable.
I think it needs to be rewired also because its brain performs a mind wipe every day on its way home from school. When I ask what it did all day, it replies, "Nothing". I went to school, I know that SOMETHING goes on there all day. Oddly enough, it can repeat entire episodes of Hannah Montana and Suite Life. Over and over and over. But only the most obnoxious lines. I do not enjoy this.
It can find time to sing endless repetitions of Taylor Swift songs in its room, to the point where they are stuck in my head and I find myself singing them in the grocery store, but can't find time to clean the bathroom.
Speaking of bathrooms, showers are taboo...until it gets in one. No washing of the body, it might melt, and why would it let soap touch its face? Winning the "Get in the shower NOW" battle means another one later called, "Get out of the shower NOW". And it NEVER combs its hair after a shower, just walks around with the towel wrapped around its head. Later I find the towel in a puddle on the floor, usually its bedroom carpet, where it is mildewing nicely.
So I would like you to return MY child and take back the preteen replacement you left instead.
Sincerely,
A Dissatisfied Earth Mom.
Please return the daughter you stole from my house. The replacement you left is not up to my standards and seems to be defective. It can't remember to tie its shoes in the morning or brush its teeth and hair. Making the bed is a joke and actually putting dishes in the dishwasher is laughable.
I think it needs to be rewired also because its brain performs a mind wipe every day on its way home from school. When I ask what it did all day, it replies, "Nothing". I went to school, I know that SOMETHING goes on there all day. Oddly enough, it can repeat entire episodes of Hannah Montana and Suite Life. Over and over and over. But only the most obnoxious lines. I do not enjoy this.
It can find time to sing endless repetitions of Taylor Swift songs in its room, to the point where they are stuck in my head and I find myself singing them in the grocery store, but can't find time to clean the bathroom.
Speaking of bathrooms, showers are taboo...until it gets in one. No washing of the body, it might melt, and why would it let soap touch its face? Winning the "Get in the shower NOW" battle means another one later called, "Get out of the shower NOW". And it NEVER combs its hair after a shower, just walks around with the towel wrapped around its head. Later I find the towel in a puddle on the floor, usually its bedroom carpet, where it is mildewing nicely.
So I would like you to return MY child and take back the preteen replacement you left instead.
Sincerely,
A Dissatisfied Earth Mom.
Quickly, quickly
I should be in the shower by now, getting ready for a day spent on a ladder hanging ghosts and 1st grade Halloween creations. Instead I felt the need to post. So here I am, typing away about the trivia that fills my day.
Last night I headed out to the Cub Scout Halloween party with Captain Rex. JMumbo LOVES Star Wars, especially the Clone Wars Troopers. So we bought him the voice changer helmet he has been drooling over for the last few years. I printed some stickers to make it look more like Captain Rex, the ultimate Clone Trooper, he donned his costume from last year, and we were off. He had a great time. They had games, pumpkin painting, snacks, and about 30 other boys all hanging out having fun. I enjoy seeing him like this. It makes the 3rd grade evil twin seem a figment of my imagination. Which, although a clever ruse, helps me pretend the twin won't come back.
Last night I headed out to the Cub Scout Halloween party with Captain Rex. JMumbo LOVES Star Wars, especially the Clone Wars Troopers. So we bought him the voice changer helmet he has been drooling over for the last few years. I printed some stickers to make it look more like Captain Rex, the ultimate Clone Trooper, he donned his costume from last year, and we were off. He had a great time. They had games, pumpkin painting, snacks, and about 30 other boys all hanging out having fun. I enjoy seeing him like this. It makes the 3rd grade evil twin seem a figment of my imagination. Which, although a clever ruse, helps me pretend the twin won't come back.
A Walk at Dusk
I spent most of my day looking out the window at the sunshine, wishing I was actually in it. About 6:00 last night, I put aside my "list" and headed out into the autumn air. I grabbed the prodigal daughter and we headed up the hill on a short walk. We don't get many opportunities to just spend time together, usually there are multiple things tugging on my shirt tail, including one named JMumbo, who was otherwise occupied with his "harem".
We made it to the top of the hill and spotted our neighbor and her dog, who was watching the prodigal daughter intently. My girl is an animal lover, she delights in them and would love a dog, but we don't have the time to devote to one. (A bit of honesty here - I don't want another entity to care for right now, and we know that I will be the one walking it in the snow.)
Settling on the edge of the driveway, I watched her play with the dog and soaked in the joy on her face, storing it up for the next time the preteen monster took over her body. I chatted with our neighbor about many things, including how lucky we were in regard to our neighborhood. Nice kids, pleasant people, both always ready to help out.
Before I knew it twilight had descended and it was time to head home to the never ending list. It would be easier to handle having taken a break, less intimidating when faced with the remembered moments from the dusk of autumn.
We made it to the top of the hill and spotted our neighbor and her dog, who was watching the prodigal daughter intently. My girl is an animal lover, she delights in them and would love a dog, but we don't have the time to devote to one. (A bit of honesty here - I don't want another entity to care for right now, and we know that I will be the one walking it in the snow.)
Settling on the edge of the driveway, I watched her play with the dog and soaked in the joy on her face, storing it up for the next time the preteen monster took over her body. I chatted with our neighbor about many things, including how lucky we were in regard to our neighborhood. Nice kids, pleasant people, both always ready to help out.
Before I knew it twilight had descended and it was time to head home to the never ending list. It would be easier to handle having taken a break, less intimidating when faced with the remembered moments from the dusk of autumn.
Moments in the life of JMumbo
A few snapshots from my day.
Most people rarely see 4:00 am. College students pulling an all nighter, second shift workers, and maybe some farmers, but the majority of the population isn't usually awake at this time. Why would they be? It isn't light out, even in the summer the sun is not contemplating the illumination of the earth. Most stores aren't open, and if they are the clerk's heads are nodding. Cable television is full of infomercials and the worst reruns imaginable. It is not a time any one would choose to be awake.
My son did today.
I heard him go to the bathroom. Little did I know that he never went back to sleep. My first inkling came when I arose at 5:30 am and heard him rustling around. When I peeked in his door I could see the glow of the Nintendo through his covers. (It is always better to play UNDER the covers, it's darker in there.) 5:30 and he was already conquering the universe as Yoda or Darth Vader, depending on what side of the force he woke up on. My husband clued me in to the 4:00 am wake up when JMumbo tore downstairs at 5:45, engines primed and ready for the day. Two sips of coffee were not enough preparation for the energy filling the room. And I dreaded what was to come later in the day.
What came was one of those moments that capture your heart and remain there forever. It was like every corny Hallmark card and forwarded powerpoint I had ever received that brought tears to my eyes. It was my son getting off the afternoon bus. He paused at the bottom step, contemplating the rain that was falling steadily. Then, his chin up, a look of triumph on his face, he opened his mouth and stepped into the rain. Four steps later, he stopped, spread his arms and tilted his head again to catch more rain drops. No rain coat, no jacket at all, just JMumbo and the pure joy of rain. How can I dislike the weather when it gives me this?
Most people rarely see 4:00 am. College students pulling an all nighter, second shift workers, and maybe some farmers, but the majority of the population isn't usually awake at this time. Why would they be? It isn't light out, even in the summer the sun is not contemplating the illumination of the earth. Most stores aren't open, and if they are the clerk's heads are nodding. Cable television is full of infomercials and the worst reruns imaginable. It is not a time any one would choose to be awake.
My son did today.
I heard him go to the bathroom. Little did I know that he never went back to sleep. My first inkling came when I arose at 5:30 am and heard him rustling around. When I peeked in his door I could see the glow of the Nintendo through his covers. (It is always better to play UNDER the covers, it's darker in there.) 5:30 and he was already conquering the universe as Yoda or Darth Vader, depending on what side of the force he woke up on. My husband clued me in to the 4:00 am wake up when JMumbo tore downstairs at 5:45, engines primed and ready for the day. Two sips of coffee were not enough preparation for the energy filling the room. And I dreaded what was to come later in the day.
What came was one of those moments that capture your heart and remain there forever. It was like every corny Hallmark card and forwarded powerpoint I had ever received that brought tears to my eyes. It was my son getting off the afternoon bus. He paused at the bottom step, contemplating the rain that was falling steadily. Then, his chin up, a look of triumph on his face, he opened his mouth and stepped into the rain. Four steps later, he stopped, spread his arms and tilted his head again to catch more rain drops. No rain coat, no jacket at all, just JMumbo and the pure joy of rain. How can I dislike the weather when it gives me this?
Some Phrases From My Day
"I thought I might bring you some ice cream. I really don't like it."
(Please do, I actually am a repository for ice cream that people don't like)
"I don't eat ravioli"
(Except if Chef Boyardee makes it, then it is the best meal ever)
"I don't want to put the stuff on my warts, that's gross. You do it mom."
(Because it ISN'T gross for me? They aren't even my feet!)
"Why do I have to get all the garbage?"
(Because I am the meanest mommy ever? Because it is the latest torture I have designed for you? Because it is one of the ONLY jobs you have in this house? Because if you don't you may end up part of the garbage? Feel free to choose an answer)
"Why do I have to brush my teeth? I brushed them this morning."
(And we would NEVER want the toothbrush to come near our mouths more than once a day, that would ruin the whole rotting teeth look we were working on for Halloween.)
Hope you had as lovely a day as I did.
(Please do, I actually am a repository for ice cream that people don't like)
"I don't eat ravioli"
(Except if Chef Boyardee makes it, then it is the best meal ever)
"I don't want to put the stuff on my warts, that's gross. You do it mom."
(Because it ISN'T gross for me? They aren't even my feet!)
"Why do I have to get all the garbage?"
(Because I am the meanest mommy ever? Because it is the latest torture I have designed for you? Because it is one of the ONLY jobs you have in this house? Because if you don't you may end up part of the garbage? Feel free to choose an answer)
"Why do I have to brush my teeth? I brushed them this morning."
(And we would NEVER want the toothbrush to come near our mouths more than once a day, that would ruin the whole rotting teeth look we were working on for Halloween.)
Hope you had as lovely a day as I did.
Day one and we've just begun
All that keeps running through my head are the lyrics to the Barenaked Ladies song, "This is Me in Grade Nine". Just change the nine to a six and you have the last few days for mom. Not for Mary of course, she is calm, cool, and collected. EXCEPT...
The first real homework showed up today. You know, beyond the multiple permission forms and "yes I read it/saw it go by my face at some point" papers we all sign the first week of school as parents. I knew we were in trouble when Math was part of the package. The stress level automatically ratcheted up several knots. (Those knots are what was forming at the back of my neck.) We made it through the math with only a small meltdown about expanded form and trillions. Put it this way, neither of us got to the point where we raised our voices. That is small in my world. Then came Science. Don't you know, we forgot our science textbook in the flurry to get to band. Understandable, they are switching classes for the first time, they have more to think about. Well what were we to do? Mom suggested we use a dictionary to look up the vocabulary words she had to define. Silly Mommy! They are ONLY found in the science textbook! No where else! What was I thinking???? Apparently dictionaries are not the places to find words and their definitions. That idea must be old fashioned, out of date, so "80's". The teacher said to use the textbook you moron Mommy! That is what we MUST use.
Guess what the old fashioned, out of date, so "80's" mom did? She called the teacher and got the okay to use the archaic dictionary to look up the meaning of the science words. And they were all in there! I was shocked! Mary did try to old "I'll copy the meaning of this word that actually has the word in it because it is a tense, but no one will notice" ploy, but she forgot her mom was an English teacher and knows that trick. Poor Mary! She had to think about her homework. What is wrong with me?? :)
The first real homework showed up today. You know, beyond the multiple permission forms and "yes I read it/saw it go by my face at some point" papers we all sign the first week of school as parents. I knew we were in trouble when Math was part of the package. The stress level automatically ratcheted up several knots. (Those knots are what was forming at the back of my neck.) We made it through the math with only a small meltdown about expanded form and trillions. Put it this way, neither of us got to the point where we raised our voices. That is small in my world. Then came Science. Don't you know, we forgot our science textbook in the flurry to get to band. Understandable, they are switching classes for the first time, they have more to think about. Well what were we to do? Mom suggested we use a dictionary to look up the vocabulary words she had to define. Silly Mommy! They are ONLY found in the science textbook! No where else! What was I thinking???? Apparently dictionaries are not the places to find words and their definitions. That idea must be old fashioned, out of date, so "80's". The teacher said to use the textbook you moron Mommy! That is what we MUST use.
Guess what the old fashioned, out of date, so "80's" mom did? She called the teacher and got the okay to use the archaic dictionary to look up the meaning of the science words. And they were all in there! I was shocked! Mary did try to old "I'll copy the meaning of this word that actually has the word in it because it is a tense, but no one will notice" ploy, but she forgot her mom was an English teacher and knows that trick. Poor Mary! She had to think about her homework. What is wrong with me?? :)
Not Soon Enough
School finally begins tomorrow and it can't come quickly enough. The kids have managed better than in the past, but we also saved several trips for the end of August, which helped occupy them. The last few days were full of running in and out of the house, looking for more snacks, whacking tennis balls against the garage door, and moping that friends were not available at a moments notice for indeterminate amounts of time.
We need the routine of school and seeing people on a regular basis.
We need the opportunity to have friends come home from school with us for a few hours, cutting the transport time in half.
We need the built in homework time where someone else is demanding they practice learning who is not named Mom.
And I need the lack of supposed "free" time that everyone feels like filling up with "just one more thing".
The constant battles that summer deteriorates into wear me out eventually and make me question why I chose a profession working with children when my own make me crazy sometimes. Then I remember that it is only sometimes and that the very questions and actions that make me crazy also make me laugh.
We need the routine of school and seeing people on a regular basis.
We need the opportunity to have friends come home from school with us for a few hours, cutting the transport time in half.
We need the built in homework time where someone else is demanding they practice learning who is not named Mom.
And I need the lack of supposed "free" time that everyone feels like filling up with "just one more thing".
The constant battles that summer deteriorates into wear me out eventually and make me question why I chose a profession working with children when my own make me crazy sometimes. Then I remember that it is only sometimes and that the very questions and actions that make me crazy also make me laugh.
Awake...again.
I have to hypothesize that my being awake until 2 am last night is rooted in the time outside at the girl's soccer game, or the chocolate bar I ate at 9:30 pm. Possibly a combination of both. Why I chose to eat chocolate that late, I don't have an answer for, but I did. The result? Me and the movie "Flashdance" until 2 am. I remember the appeal to a HS senior having renewed acquaintance with the film, but am not sure it will ever be a keeper. And this from the champion of B movies! Just a bit too corny for me.
Possibly the flurry of canning that occurred yesterday wound me up also. Jars of pickles, hot pickles, dilly beans, and spaghetti sauce line the counter now. What could be more fun than seeing all that wonderful food just waiting for lucky recipients this winter? Again I understand the deep satisfaction women found in the daily household tasks that provided for their families year round.
Possibly the flurry of canning that occurred yesterday wound me up also. Jars of pickles, hot pickles, dilly beans, and spaghetti sauce line the counter now. What could be more fun than seeing all that wonderful food just waiting for lucky recipients this winter? Again I understand the deep satisfaction women found in the daily household tasks that provided for their families year round.
Hi Campers
I know I haven't written much this summer, but it just hasn't been there. I feel like I spent most of the summer letting my brain relax. It seemed to do me some good, and I have a great tan from puttering in my garden.
Last night we had the last summer book club meeting for Mary and her friends. I borrowed a video projector and we showed The Princess Bride at Camp Colombo. I hung a sheet on the back of the garage, Denny started a fire, the girls inhaled smores and popcorn, and we all watched the movie. It was so much fun I would consider getting a projector so we could do it more often. I found out today that some of the neighbor girls were watching from their yard too. It seems like something that belongs at Camp Colombo and I can see having a movie night every week or two, showing the oldies but goodies, some 3 Stooges and Looney Tunes, then finding a good newer release that appeals to all and inviting families. It belongs in a small town.
We had a fire again tonight for Joe and the girls across the street. Joe was not happy when he was banished from the "girls only" movie and campfire, so I agreed to another one tonight. A few smores and a lot of smoke later ( I think the wood was green), he was happy and we both smell like smoke again tonight. He did discover another area to plunder for firewood. Mrs. Russell offered to "let" him clear her woods of all the dead and fallen wood he could find. He grabbed the wagon and headed over the hill. An excellent solution for all parties!
Last night we had the last summer book club meeting for Mary and her friends. I borrowed a video projector and we showed The Princess Bride at Camp Colombo. I hung a sheet on the back of the garage, Denny started a fire, the girls inhaled smores and popcorn, and we all watched the movie. It was so much fun I would consider getting a projector so we could do it more often. I found out today that some of the neighbor girls were watching from their yard too. It seems like something that belongs at Camp Colombo and I can see having a movie night every week or two, showing the oldies but goodies, some 3 Stooges and Looney Tunes, then finding a good newer release that appeals to all and inviting families. It belongs in a small town.
We had a fire again tonight for Joe and the girls across the street. Joe was not happy when he was banished from the "girls only" movie and campfire, so I agreed to another one tonight. A few smores and a lot of smoke later ( I think the wood was green), he was happy and we both smell like smoke again tonight. He did discover another area to plunder for firewood. Mrs. Russell offered to "let" him clear her woods of all the dead and fallen wood he could find. He grabbed the wagon and headed over the hill. An excellent solution for all parties!
To the Beach!
We head to Rhode Island and our annual beach pilgrimage today. It is a wonderful trip for the kids, mom and dad, and I, and I am always grateful when it arrives. A few things left to pack, mostly for me, and then off we go. I live in an area where the majority of families have settled within a 20 mile radius of each other, and I sometimes wonder if they truly appreciate how lucky they are. Seeing my extended family once or twice a year is something I anticipate with joy. How do you explain that to someone who has always had their family nearby? Does that cause people to appreciate the people in their lives less?
A great day with Half-Pint
We attended the Laura Ingalls Wilder days at Mumford's Genesee Country Museum this year. Again, there was no disappointment, just a blast from the past that was refreshing and fun. We added Kaitlyn this year and she fit right in. The girls made rag dolls like Laura's Charlotte, choosing the fabrics they wanted from precut dresses and aprons. They did draw the faces and sew the hair onto the dolls, then dressed them. Kaitlyn made a cornhusk doll later, something that is more difficult than it sounds. There are several steps and I ended up helping Kaitlyn and another little girl whose grandfather was trying to put together two dolls at once. Making one with Mary last year was helpful because I remembered many of the steps.
Joe chose to make a tin ornament using a hammer and nail to pound a pattern of a wagon into the disk. He strung it on a string and wore it the rest of the day. I have a feeling it will eventually end up on our tree, a fitting ornament to remember the day. Joe also enjoyed the outhouse behind the octagon house. Bathrooms and boys! He was NOT impressed while churning the butter, considering it beneath him to do "women's work", but perked right up and got comfortable at the log sawing station. He and I worked the band saw last year, and he remembered the experience. After watching for a while, he jumped in with Kaitlyn's help and did a pretty good job. He was not happy when he had to let other people take a turn, wanting to saw through the log and take the wooden disk home. What we were doing with that disk was beyond me, but he thought it was a fitting memento. He also found 5 buttons in the haystack, another area he remembered from the year before.
We fed the sheep apples and admired the lambs who were young enough to still have tails. The sheep appreciated the apples and their caretakers had better watch their steps when feeding them later. So many little green apples can't have been good for their digestion!
We saw a threshing machine at work also. One powered by horse power, or in this case, man power. I loved seeing the machine in action and comparing it to what I had imagined while reading the stories. Someone commented about the amount of work it was and how strong the men and women must have been. It certainly isn't the cake walk of today, riding in the air conditioned cab of the combine! I know that farming is still hard work, but sometimes I wonder if the industrialization of the world really benefitted us. I know it has made life easier and I appreciate that, but it has also resulted in a loss of community. Families no longer come together in common pursuits that have tangible results. Imagine the feeling of accomplishment when storing all the grain you and your neighbors planted, tended, harvested, and winnowed. Or seeing a barn rise on your land, a community effort accompanied by shared food and labor. We don't have that anymore.
The last event of the day was meeting Karen Grassle, the actress who played Caroline Ingalls on the television show. I am not sure who was more excited, the kids who were watching the show and reading the books for the first time, or the adults like me, who grew up with Laura on the show. Standing in line I discussed another woman's trip to Malone, NY to visit Almanzo's home and the fact that Pa was born in Cuba Township. The man behind us was excited to learn all of this, being a fan himself, something he admitted with an embarrassed grin. Karen Grassle was gracious and lovely, posing for pictures even though she wasn't supposed to and delighted that people were still excited and interested in the show.
What a wonderful day it was. I am determined to dress in costume for next year as I spent a portion of the day admiring all the little girls and their outfits with matching sunbonnets. We ended up with a year membership, guarenteeing that I will eventually visit all the buildings in the village.
Joe chose to make a tin ornament using a hammer and nail to pound a pattern of a wagon into the disk. He strung it on a string and wore it the rest of the day. I have a feeling it will eventually end up on our tree, a fitting ornament to remember the day. Joe also enjoyed the outhouse behind the octagon house. Bathrooms and boys! He was NOT impressed while churning the butter, considering it beneath him to do "women's work", but perked right up and got comfortable at the log sawing station. He and I worked the band saw last year, and he remembered the experience. After watching for a while, he jumped in with Kaitlyn's help and did a pretty good job. He was not happy when he had to let other people take a turn, wanting to saw through the log and take the wooden disk home. What we were doing with that disk was beyond me, but he thought it was a fitting memento. He also found 5 buttons in the haystack, another area he remembered from the year before.
We fed the sheep apples and admired the lambs who were young enough to still have tails. The sheep appreciated the apples and their caretakers had better watch their steps when feeding them later. So many little green apples can't have been good for their digestion!
We saw a threshing machine at work also. One powered by horse power, or in this case, man power. I loved seeing the machine in action and comparing it to what I had imagined while reading the stories. Someone commented about the amount of work it was and how strong the men and women must have been. It certainly isn't the cake walk of today, riding in the air conditioned cab of the combine! I know that farming is still hard work, but sometimes I wonder if the industrialization of the world really benefitted us. I know it has made life easier and I appreciate that, but it has also resulted in a loss of community. Families no longer come together in common pursuits that have tangible results. Imagine the feeling of accomplishment when storing all the grain you and your neighbors planted, tended, harvested, and winnowed. Or seeing a barn rise on your land, a community effort accompanied by shared food and labor. We don't have that anymore.
The last event of the day was meeting Karen Grassle, the actress who played Caroline Ingalls on the television show. I am not sure who was more excited, the kids who were watching the show and reading the books for the first time, or the adults like me, who grew up with Laura on the show. Standing in line I discussed another woman's trip to Malone, NY to visit Almanzo's home and the fact that Pa was born in Cuba Township. The man behind us was excited to learn all of this, being a fan himself, something he admitted with an embarrassed grin. Karen Grassle was gracious and lovely, posing for pictures even though she wasn't supposed to and delighted that people were still excited and interested in the show.
What a wonderful day it was. I am determined to dress in costume for next year as I spent a portion of the day admiring all the little girls and their outfits with matching sunbonnets. We ended up with a year membership, guarenteeing that I will eventually visit all the buildings in the village.
What a Day!
Yesterday was one of those perfect summer days. Sunshine with a breeze to keep the bugs away, little humidity, and a lovely lady who stole both my kids for the afternoon, allowing me to actually weed an entire garden! My kids had a great time swimming and playing with the "bruck brucks". My side garden actually looks like a garden again, not a wilderness. Most of the weeds are gone and everything is deadheaded so it can bloom again. I even spread some mulch around and managed to begin pulling the grass from the vegetable garden. All in all, a very productive day for me!
What do I do all day?
I ask myself this question on a regular basis. I feel like I spend all day busy, but when I stop and look around, it seems that I have not even made a dent. How did the pioneer women do it with the dirt floors and open fireplaces belching out smoke and ashes? It must have something to do with the idea that bigger isn't better, it is just more to clean! I sometimes wish for the one or two room log cabin. Sure it takes longer to cook things with no microwave, but there isn't the never ending question of "What's for dinner?" anymore, because you eat what you have and is in season. And you like it because that is all there is. Smaller house, smaller menus, less choices, sounds like a plan to me.
I could spend more time outside in the garden, keeping it clear of weeds. I could feel like I accomplished something beyond just picking up the many Legos that Joe scatters like a trail of breadcrumbs through out the house. My family would have to eat what I cooked and not turn up their noses stating "I don't eat that", still hoping for ice cream later. There would be no ice cream later, just Mom's cooking.
I really should have been Laura Ingalls Wilder.
I could spend more time outside in the garden, keeping it clear of weeds. I could feel like I accomplished something beyond just picking up the many Legos that Joe scatters like a trail of breadcrumbs through out the house. My family would have to eat what I cooked and not turn up their noses stating "I don't eat that", still hoping for ice cream later. There would be no ice cream later, just Mom's cooking.
I really should have been Laura Ingalls Wilder.
I'm Enrolling at Hogwarts.
If I didn't want to before, I have decided I must now. The sixth installment of the movie was excellent and once again I wished to be striding the corridors with my robe and house colors on. Even the snow looks fun, not cold and nasty like it is here. I know it is a movie, but I think it must be different there, less ice and wind, more lovely snow and crisp breezes. Plus you get to say things like "pip, pip", "lovely", "snogging", and "bloody hell". Exclamations sound better when expressed with a British accent, it's a proven fact. Think about it, you'll agree.
To be friends with Hermoine and Luna, watch Harry finally figure out that he really cares for Ginny while she bids her time. Learning from Professor McGonnagal and Professor Flitwit? I would even sit through Professor Trelawny's class and endure Snape.
The castle with its winding corridors, tower rooms and fireplaces. The huge dining room. I should have been a boarding student somewhere or gone to summer camp. I would have settled right in and wallowed in the experience.
So I am enrolling at Hogwarts. If I try hard enough I might make it through the barrier at 9 and 3/4 and board the Hogwarts Express.
To be friends with Hermoine and Luna, watch Harry finally figure out that he really cares for Ginny while she bids her time. Learning from Professor McGonnagal and Professor Flitwit? I would even sit through Professor Trelawny's class and endure Snape.
The castle with its winding corridors, tower rooms and fireplaces. The huge dining room. I should have been a boarding student somewhere or gone to summer camp. I would have settled right in and wallowed in the experience.
So I am enrolling at Hogwarts. If I try hard enough I might make it through the barrier at 9 and 3/4 and board the Hogwarts Express.
Forcast - no weeding
The sky looks ominous and I think I may not be weeding today. The rain is needed, so this is not one of those "all it does is rain in the summer" posts. I enjoy having rainy days in the summer. In fact, the days that have some rain and some sun are wonderful. You get the best of both worlds. Sunshine to warm you and get you outside, and rain that allows you to finish indoor tasks without feeling guilty about missing the sunshine. Living in WNY, the guilt associated with spending a warm, sunny day inside is dominant. We only get so many and you need to make the most of them.
That list I had? I have accomplished a grand total of 4 things in as many days. How am I doing? I did make banana bread muffins, so maybe I could up my count to 5 substituting the banana for the zucchini. And I am counting weeding the vegetable garden even though it isn't finished. With the clouds moving in, I may double my accomplishments today considering many of them are indoor activities. Wish me luck!
That list I had? I have accomplished a grand total of 4 things in as many days. How am I doing? I did make banana bread muffins, so maybe I could up my count to 5 substituting the banana for the zucchini. And I am counting weeding the vegetable garden even though it isn't finished. With the clouds moving in, I may double my accomplishments today considering many of them are indoor activities. Wish me luck!
Deep Breath - I really need to take one.
The family dinner for Angela went well yesterday, the kids are halfway through swimming lessons, and if I can make it through the overscheduling of the next few days, I will be impressed with myself. I need to take a deep breath, but with all the "free time" I feel like a chicken with its head cut off, trying to decide what to do next. What's on the list you ask?
The list goes on and on. What to choose first? Obviously it is to blog on Camp Colombo about all the things I want to do instead of doing them! Story of my life.
I forgot, I also want to start doing yoga again on a daily basis, although I am walking quite a bit, which is great.
Off to start on my list, after I walk down to pick up the kids at rec.
- Finish reading the book for Mary's book club meeting tomorrow.
- Make some fun snacks for the book club meeting tomorrow.
- Weed the vegetable garden.
- Cut the dead flowers back so more will grow.
- Work on the new Sunday School curriculum for September.
- Prepare for tutoring next week.
- Read one of the 4 books I have started.
- Clean up the basement.
- Make zucchini bread and muffins.
- Make chocolate chip cookies for the seniors that graduated.
- Go through the kid's papers from this year and put those and the ones from last year in a binder.
- Figure out how to use the scrapbooking program on my computer and start putting things together in it.
The list goes on and on. What to choose first? Obviously it is to blog on Camp Colombo about all the things I want to do instead of doing them! Story of my life.
I forgot, I also want to start doing yoga again on a daily basis, although I am walking quite a bit, which is great.
Off to start on my list, after I walk down to pick up the kids at rec.
Life Decisions
My husband made an interesting suggestion the other day that has been rolling around in my head ever since. He mentioned that the local lumber yard could expand by adding a greenhouse/gardening section to it, and I could run it. I didn't say much at the time, but the more I let it sit, the bigger the idea gets. I love my flowers and veggies in all their stages, even the dormant ones. Imagine getting to play in the dirt all day long and being paid for it. So many people like my garden photos and want to know what I do. The secret is that I don't do much at all, just weed and wait to see what will pop up where. I am sometimes brutal to my plants, hacking them off to let them start again, but only the plants I know really like a buzz cut now and again. Could you imagine getting paid to design gardens for people? Or to advise them what plants grow the best in our finicky climate? Or what to plant so they always have flowers and don't have to do much with them?
As my mind continues to work, I think of more ideas that could be built into a successful venture. Spring flower festivals, a column in the local papers, hosting the small, struggling farm market in town, printing and selling my garden photos, framed or as card sets. The possibilities are endless. I would love to put together a collection of preventative measures that are environmentally friendly, but would help people battle the pests that like to eat our flowers and bulbs. And what veggies should be planted near each other to compliment and help with growth and productivity.
Hmmm...the ideas just keep coming.
As my mind continues to work, I think of more ideas that could be built into a successful venture. Spring flower festivals, a column in the local papers, hosting the small, struggling farm market in town, printing and selling my garden photos, framed or as card sets. The possibilities are endless. I would love to put together a collection of preventative measures that are environmentally friendly, but would help people battle the pests that like to eat our flowers and bulbs. And what veggies should be planted near each other to compliment and help with growth and productivity.
Hmmm...the ideas just keep coming.
Finally, a book for me
One of my favorite people in the world is named Norma. She hands my mom articles she cuts out of the Wall Street Journal with instructions to then send them to me. Recently she handed my mom a book titled about common sense. It talks about how a public school in NYC let a child having heart problems wait 45 minutes until the principal could be found because the staff was instructed not to call 911, only the principal could. Definitely not common sense. I can't wait to read it next. I am betting the whole no recess because a child could get hurt is in there.
Library Lady
Next school year I become the part time Library Lady. I won't be the part time Librarian because I work in the elementary school and that is a hum dinger of a word for them. I am anticipating being called Mrs. Libary Lady by several students and the questions concerning my move from Computer Lady to the Libary. (and no, that is not a typo, that is what little kids call a library) It is okay with me. Someday I will know every level and job related to a school district and become an invaluable asset.
Excuse me, I had to pick myself up off the floor and stop laughing before I could continue.
We don't know what I will be doing the other half of the day because when you lay off six people you don't really need a plan concerning what you are going to do with the remaining staff to cover the discrepencies. And when you decide that a MS/HS Librarian is not needed, you just have the Elemetary one go back and forth between the 2 buildings every day. And replace the librarian you laid off with Teaching Assistants. Because that TA you had in the computer labs creating all the wonderful stuff that helped teachers integrate technology? Not really that important. Don't need no techno-stuff in today's world. The kids can figure it out on their own. We didn't have any of that there stuff and did just fine.
But wait. This would be me looking at things with COMMON SENSE on my side. I should know better.
Excuse me, I had to pick myself up off the floor and stop laughing before I could continue.
We don't know what I will be doing the other half of the day because when you lay off six people you don't really need a plan concerning what you are going to do with the remaining staff to cover the discrepencies. And when you decide that a MS/HS Librarian is not needed, you just have the Elemetary one go back and forth between the 2 buildings every day. And replace the librarian you laid off with Teaching Assistants. Because that TA you had in the computer labs creating all the wonderful stuff that helped teachers integrate technology? Not really that important. Don't need no techno-stuff in today's world. The kids can figure it out on their own. We didn't have any of that there stuff and did just fine.
But wait. This would be me looking at things with COMMON SENSE on my side. I should know better.
T-2 and counting
Almost done for the 08-09 school year. Everytime I turn around I find another thing I should have done and rush to finish it, but I had a great year. It really helped rejuvenate me. There is so much positive energy in the building, fueled by the kids, that it overpowers all the pettiness that goes on among the adults. Of course I work hard at concentrating on that positive energy, so that is what I see.
I head to yet another area of school education next year as part time Library Teaching Assistant. I guess they figured I was deficient in this area and needed a new experience. Which is fine with me. I LOVE libraries and now have a reason to spend half of each day in one. I just hope all the technology training doesn't end up in the trash can because we have decided people don't need help with it. The fact that it is so seamlessly incorporated into the curriculum and the kid's daily life is a testimony to the work of the technology people, not the idea that people don't need any help anymore.
You'll see me more from here on out. I ended up a bit preoccupied the last month or so, but I am back on track. In fact, I am thinking of heading to get berries and do some canning on Friday.
I head to yet another area of school education next year as part time Library Teaching Assistant. I guess they figured I was deficient in this area and needed a new experience. Which is fine with me. I LOVE libraries and now have a reason to spend half of each day in one. I just hope all the technology training doesn't end up in the trash can because we have decided people don't need help with it. The fact that it is so seamlessly incorporated into the curriculum and the kid's daily life is a testimony to the work of the technology people, not the idea that people don't need any help anymore.
You'll see me more from here on out. I ended up a bit preoccupied the last month or so, but I am back on track. In fact, I am thinking of heading to get berries and do some canning on Friday.
Laptop down
My laptop seems to have a bad power cord and I have to use the basement computer, which explains my recent lack of communication. Added to that is the fact that my calendar seems to have exploded with "stuff" this week. I am hoping to resolve the laptop issue soon, but may be posting more often since I cleaned the desktop's temp files and it is running better now.
The Longest Week Ever
Whew! It is almost over. This has been the longest week. Varsity baseball, softball, and Little League, all playing games and having practices. The plus, one of the games and practices was on the same day, same time. To top it off? The elementary concert last night. I loved it. The kids have so much fun singing and the choices this time were excellent. Fun, but within the range of the kid's abilities, so as a parent you didn't just paste a smile on during the squeaking and squawking of the band, you enjoyed the music and the fun.
I have spent the week trying to figure out what to feed everyone. This means remembering to take food out of the freezer in the morning, my brain is numb the night before so it has to be the morning, and having a clue what I can do with it in less than an hour. The result? Tasteless noodle week. All my noodles have been bland this week. I added cheese sauce, but not enough. I added well-flavored chicken broth and butter, but not enough. Not enough seems to be the trend. Not enough time, not enough choice, not enough lunch (for me). Needless to say, I am boycotting noodles right now. I'm going back to rice, it absorbs the flavor better. The noodles seem to repel it. It would be so much simpler if I didn't have to feed anyone. :-)
I have spent the week trying to figure out what to feed everyone. This means remembering to take food out of the freezer in the morning, my brain is numb the night before so it has to be the morning, and having a clue what I can do with it in less than an hour. The result? Tasteless noodle week. All my noodles have been bland this week. I added cheese sauce, but not enough. I added well-flavored chicken broth and butter, but not enough. Not enough seems to be the trend. Not enough time, not enough choice, not enough lunch (for me). Needless to say, I am boycotting noodles right now. I'm going back to rice, it absorbs the flavor better. The noodles seem to repel it. It would be so much simpler if I didn't have to feed anyone. :-)
The Joy of Reading
Once again the library sale was a success. Books for me, books for the kids, and books for my mother-in-law that she likes to read, because I give THOUGHTFUL gifts. (see Question of the Day) I have made my way through a majority of the books I bought at the last sale also, so the guilt of buying more was absent. I have learned to pass them on also, enriching other's lives with my literary choices, instead of holding tightly just because they are books. I am becoming choosy about the books I keep, fleshing out the authors I really love and passing on the books I enjoyed, but will probably never read again.
I will settle in to a lovely assortment just in time for summer. So lovely!
I will settle in to a lovely assortment just in time for summer. So lovely!
Please excuse my absence
I have been psyching myself up to start walking again and trying to clean out the gardens. There are other things going on, all part of that lovely thing called "life", but no good excuse to ignore you all.
I am walking again. I started Monday and only missed yesterday. It was quite foggy and felt that getting run over by a pick up truck or tractor as I emerged from the mist was not a good plan for the day. Plus it is a bit creepy to walk by fields and woods with the fog blanketing everything. Who knows what could emerge? A skunk, a groundhog, any type of wild country beast. And I am not awake enough in the morning to deal with that, so I would come home stinking to high heaven.
The gardens are clearing, but I want to know how so much grass snuck in. It has a lovely yard to grow in with a man on a tractor who loves to baby it. Figure out that I am going to yank you and all your roots I can find out and toss you away if you enter my flower gardens. If you stay in the yard, you will be cut regularly, in different directions to foster your health, and treated to remove those nasty dandelions. Make the right choice! The flowers don't want to play with you.
Lastly, baseball/softball world has begun. Everyone is involved but mom. Mostly because mom is not highly skilled at throwing, catching, or hitting. I did a nice job running the bases in HS, but not much else. Probably why I ended up running around a track and passing on the bases. I am a great spectator. I watch endless baseball games, mostly because I can watch the other people watching when I get bored with the game. I still won't watch it on TV - BORING!!! So I do the running. I run kids to practice, run to games, and make sure everyone has clean uniforms. And I'm okay with this.
I am walking again. I started Monday and only missed yesterday. It was quite foggy and felt that getting run over by a pick up truck or tractor as I emerged from the mist was not a good plan for the day. Plus it is a bit creepy to walk by fields and woods with the fog blanketing everything. Who knows what could emerge? A skunk, a groundhog, any type of wild country beast. And I am not awake enough in the morning to deal with that, so I would come home stinking to high heaven.
The gardens are clearing, but I want to know how so much grass snuck in. It has a lovely yard to grow in with a man on a tractor who loves to baby it. Figure out that I am going to yank you and all your roots I can find out and toss you away if you enter my flower gardens. If you stay in the yard, you will be cut regularly, in different directions to foster your health, and treated to remove those nasty dandelions. Make the right choice! The flowers don't want to play with you.
Lastly, baseball/softball world has begun. Everyone is involved but mom. Mostly because mom is not highly skilled at throwing, catching, or hitting. I did a nice job running the bases in HS, but not much else. Probably why I ended up running around a track and passing on the bases. I am a great spectator. I watch endless baseball games, mostly because I can watch the other people watching when I get bored with the game. I still won't watch it on TV - BORING!!! So I do the running. I run kids to practice, run to games, and make sure everyone has clean uniforms. And I'm okay with this.
I love my boys in Green!
A tribute to the boys who have worked so hard this season to get to this point. Tom Izzo has shown them what they have inside and I hope they finish the journey, all the way to the championship!
Twilight
So I watched Twilight and am now rereading the book, because that is the kind of weirdo I am. I am cataloging the discrepancies in my head so when I watch the movie again I have a better grasp of where they goofed up. Why do I do that? Why can't it just be enough to watch the movie and enjoy it because it is an okay movie? I did the same thing with the Harry Potter's and Lord of the Rings. It's not even that I expect the movie to match the book. I don't. But I still go back and make my mental list. There are definitely things wrong with me.
Button, button, where is the button?
Why, oh why, is it so impossible to sew a button on to clothing correctly? In the last month I have started to button 4 different pieces of clothing and had a button come off in my hand. This morning I sewed it back on while I was still wearing the vest because the bus was coming and the kids needed fed.
You know me, I don't buy cheap jackets. I buy from Eddie Bauer, Land's End, Coldwater Creek. If I am buying a jacket, I am going to wear it, so it will be decent quality. The Eddie Bauer jacket I can live with, I have owned that particular piece of clothing for over 15 years. The Coldwater Creek jacket? That one irritates me. It is a whopping year and a half old and isn't even one I wear every week. The vest from this morning? Less than 6 months old and again, rarely worn because it has been too cold for just a vest over a shirt. A little quality would be nice.
I even had to bring one of the acolyte robes (the kids who help with the service during church) home because when we buttoned Joe in, you guessed it, off popped the button. And me? I put the button in my pocket, forget it is there, and find it 2 months later when I stick my hand in the pocket again, usually to put a button there!
But we should continue to buy and pump up the economy. Maybe they weren't American products. Yeah, I'll blame it on the overseas producers. That would work, but I don't seem to be able to tell the difference any more. It's all shoddy.
You know me, I don't buy cheap jackets. I buy from Eddie Bauer, Land's End, Coldwater Creek. If I am buying a jacket, I am going to wear it, so it will be decent quality. The Eddie Bauer jacket I can live with, I have owned that particular piece of clothing for over 15 years. The Coldwater Creek jacket? That one irritates me. It is a whopping year and a half old and isn't even one I wear every week. The vest from this morning? Less than 6 months old and again, rarely worn because it has been too cold for just a vest over a shirt. A little quality would be nice.
I even had to bring one of the acolyte robes (the kids who help with the service during church) home because when we buttoned Joe in, you guessed it, off popped the button. And me? I put the button in my pocket, forget it is there, and find it 2 months later when I stick my hand in the pocket again, usually to put a button there!
But we should continue to buy and pump up the economy. Maybe they weren't American products. Yeah, I'll blame it on the overseas producers. That would work, but I don't seem to be able to tell the difference any more. It's all shoddy.
Overwhelmed
I don't often admit it, but I am feeling overwhelmed at this point. I think many people feel this way around this time of year, but that doesn't help me honestly. It seems that everyone needs something from me, wants a piece of my time, and it has to happen now. This on top of the day to day demands and expectations that go along with being a mom, wife, employee, etc.
Think good thoughts that I will make it through the week. This is the big push. After the 31st, some of the pressure will go away. For a while...
Think good thoughts that I will make it through the week. This is the big push. After the 31st, some of the pressure will go away. For a while...
Something to Ponder
AIG says they have to pay the bonuses they promised to their top executives or they will lose them. Apparently in our diminished economy there are companies lining up to hire these top, very expensive, executives. The unemployment rate has nothing to do with these people. They are in demand and no one out there is capable of replacing them.
Take off the rose colored glasses folks. Let's start to look at the reality. People would line up around the block for those jobs, WITHOUT the bonuses. I just saw an Ivy League educated guy on Anderson Cooper that is an investment banker, has four kids, and needs a job. Tell me HE wouldn't work for them, minus the bonuses.
All I'm asking for is a reason I can BEGIN to buy into. Teenagers are better at making excuses than the AIG leaders. Maybe they should hire some for their PR department. At least I would be able to laugh at the absurdity then and some kids could earn college money.
And they wonder why America is disgusted with them.
Take off the rose colored glasses folks. Let's start to look at the reality. People would line up around the block for those jobs, WITHOUT the bonuses. I just saw an Ivy League educated guy on Anderson Cooper that is an investment banker, has four kids, and needs a job. Tell me HE wouldn't work for them, minus the bonuses.
All I'm asking for is a reason I can BEGIN to buy into. Teenagers are better at making excuses than the AIG leaders. Maybe they should hire some for their PR department. At least I would be able to laugh at the absurdity then and some kids could earn college money.
And they wonder why America is disgusted with them.
It has a first name, O-S-C-A-R
Thanks to my obsession with FB, I have been experiencing cyber versions of my HS and college reunions. I keep running into people from both, much to my surprise and delight. One of these encounters led to a phone call between my several times over roommate from the East Lansing years, Julie. She doesn't sound any different. And we fell right back into the comfortable routine of conversation, as if we had just spoken last week instead of over 15 years ago.
The memories popped up in the conversation revolving around weddings, children, and our lives. Julie had posted pictures from one of our soup making experiences. I am still a soup maker, it is one of my comfort places, a bowl of soup, a cup of tea, and a good book. Food was always the great equalizer with me and many of my memories revolve around meals made with family and friends. Julie and I were experts at creating feasts from nothing.
We first lived together one summer, taking over the upstairs of a house. We had a small kitchenette that we shared with the cockroaches, who ran for their lives when we flipped the light on. It became a game to see who was faster, the cockroaches or us. That summer we lived on bologna and white bread. We ate it with big slabs of onion and mustard. Why anyone wanted to be around us as we sweat onion and bologna scent is a question I have never been able to answer, but it wouldn't have mattered to us anyway. We were invincible, as dynamic a duo as Batman and Robin. We sucked our roommate PJ in whenever we could, convincing him that we really did know what we were doing. I know we all worked, but this was one of those summers that seemed to be filled only with sunshine, fun, and friends. All fueled by Wonder bread and Oscar Meyer, who really does have a way with B-O-L-O-G-N-A.
The memories popped up in the conversation revolving around weddings, children, and our lives. Julie had posted pictures from one of our soup making experiences. I am still a soup maker, it is one of my comfort places, a bowl of soup, a cup of tea, and a good book. Food was always the great equalizer with me and many of my memories revolve around meals made with family and friends. Julie and I were experts at creating feasts from nothing.
We first lived together one summer, taking over the upstairs of a house. We had a small kitchenette that we shared with the cockroaches, who ran for their lives when we flipped the light on. It became a game to see who was faster, the cockroaches or us. That summer we lived on bologna and white bread. We ate it with big slabs of onion and mustard. Why anyone wanted to be around us as we sweat onion and bologna scent is a question I have never been able to answer, but it wouldn't have mattered to us anyway. We were invincible, as dynamic a duo as Batman and Robin. We sucked our roommate PJ in whenever we could, convincing him that we really did know what we were doing. I know we all worked, but this was one of those summers that seemed to be filled only with sunshine, fun, and friends. All fueled by Wonder bread and Oscar Meyer, who really does have a way with B-O-L-O-G-N-A.
Full of Germs
I have spent the last week blowing my nose and oozing. (See past entry for definition) My eyes were even seeping. My nose felt like it was going to fall off I had blown it so much. Even Puffs with lotion irritated it. I spent the days looking like Rudolph. On Thursday night I realized my nose was no longer running, but I could no longer breathe out of it. If someone had kidnapped and gagged me, I would suffocate because my nose was refusing to work. In the back of my brain, a distant memory was battering its way through the rest of the clutter to tap me on the shoulder. It finally shoved the milling masses of random thoughts about laundry and dirty dishes aside on Saturday to stand next to the pounding headache and say, "It's a sinus infection idiot!"
The news arrived too late. No doctors were open and I had two days of headache and nausea ahead of me before I could call for an appointment. Even my hard core migraine meds didn't touch it.
On Monday I called the doctor's office and gave them my diagnosis. This is the way of new medicine. You make your own diagnosis, you spend one and a half hours sitting waiting in the doctor's office, the doctor confirms your diagnosis, and writes you a prescription. Why do I have to go in and wait? Why can't I just call and tell them what is wrong, have them agree over the phone and then email my script to my local pharmacy? They are all using computers now to track my visits and allergies, my past symptoms and medications. Can't they track my percentage of correct diagnosis? If I have a 90% or above on correct diagnosis, can't they just trust me? I guess they don't feel worthwhile to society if they don't have a waiting room full of people reading 6 month old magazines.
My germs are being eradicated by an antibiotic and I have almost convinced myself that I am well enough to make it through an entire day of work. Work, where I will be just one of the germ laden masses, except I won't wipe my nose with the back of my hand and then offer to thumb wrestle anyone.
The news arrived too late. No doctors were open and I had two days of headache and nausea ahead of me before I could call for an appointment. Even my hard core migraine meds didn't touch it.
On Monday I called the doctor's office and gave them my diagnosis. This is the way of new medicine. You make your own diagnosis, you spend one and a half hours sitting waiting in the doctor's office, the doctor confirms your diagnosis, and writes you a prescription. Why do I have to go in and wait? Why can't I just call and tell them what is wrong, have them agree over the phone and then email my script to my local pharmacy? They are all using computers now to track my visits and allergies, my past symptoms and medications. Can't they track my percentage of correct diagnosis? If I have a 90% or above on correct diagnosis, can't they just trust me? I guess they don't feel worthwhile to society if they don't have a waiting room full of people reading 6 month old magazines.
My germs are being eradicated by an antibiotic and I have almost convinced myself that I am well enough to make it through an entire day of work. Work, where I will be just one of the germ laden masses, except I won't wipe my nose with the back of my hand and then offer to thumb wrestle anyone.
Melancholy and Nostalgic
Recently I found some old friends on Facebook. Friends from college that I worked with and lived with. It prompted me to post some pictures from those days, which led to several hours of scanning and cropping and posting. It prompted a trip down memory lane.
What fun we had. So few responsibilities or worries. We paid the rent, we hung out, we hid Kevin in the bathroom closet. My roommates even rescued baby bunnies one weekend that I was gone. They lived in a box on the kitchen table for a few days. (The bunnies, not the roommates) We existed for the moment, defending each other from the outside world and sometimes fighting among ourselves.
This was when I went to my first Jimmy Buffett concert and became a parrothead to the core. We went in a limo with margaritas for all. The Neville brothers opened for him and it was one of the best times I ever had. Later a group of us went to Pine Knob for an afternoon of sunshine, reggae music, and silliness. Rosy and Kevin took pictures at all the snack centers with the kids working there. It was a photo essay of junk food.
I spent Saturday's with Dylan, going to the beach, or hanging out at the house. He followed the meercats, laughing with joy that they followed him in a never ending game of chase. We always filled a balloon for him at B'zar and tied it to his wrist so he wouldn't lose it. He was my steady date, and I adored him. At a year and a half, he would never break my heart.
We spent our nights working at B'zar. We lip synced to songs, did group dances, and entertained the customers and ourselves. Kevin did an excellent Axel Rose interpretation and we would demand it at the end of the night. I spent parts of my days there also, moving from a waitressing job to a job in public relations and marketing for them. This made me the ideal person to set up the after hours get-togethers. I could leave early, pick up the beer, and get the jello ready.
We invited everyone that couldn't make it home over for Thanksgiving dinner. Our Christmas tree was up and decorated with the "Chucky" doll from the crane machine and the fruitcake ornament. Our lunch meat coasters were ready to prevent the tables from water rings. We roasted a turkey and a ham, complete with pineapple and cherries. Everyone brought something; food, drink, laughter, and a sense of surrogate family. If we couldn't be with our biological families, we could spend the holiday with our adopted one.
We seemed to smile all the time.
The pictures were the story of me and my two roommates, Rosy and Kevin, and the duplex we lived in. Which I discovered is no longer there. They tore it down and ripped the street up. How does that happen? How does part of your life just go away? Of course the house is not the only part of that time that has disappeared. Kevin is gone also. I still have trouble with it. That he is gone, the way he left. Only Rosy and I are left. Only our memories remain.
What fun we had. So few responsibilities or worries. We paid the rent, we hung out, we hid Kevin in the bathroom closet. My roommates even rescued baby bunnies one weekend that I was gone. They lived in a box on the kitchen table for a few days. (The bunnies, not the roommates) We existed for the moment, defending each other from the outside world and sometimes fighting among ourselves.
This was when I went to my first Jimmy Buffett concert and became a parrothead to the core. We went in a limo with margaritas for all. The Neville brothers opened for him and it was one of the best times I ever had. Later a group of us went to Pine Knob for an afternoon of sunshine, reggae music, and silliness. Rosy and Kevin took pictures at all the snack centers with the kids working there. It was a photo essay of junk food.
I spent Saturday's with Dylan, going to the beach, or hanging out at the house. He followed the meercats, laughing with joy that they followed him in a never ending game of chase. We always filled a balloon for him at B'zar and tied it to his wrist so he wouldn't lose it. He was my steady date, and I adored him. At a year and a half, he would never break my heart.
We spent our nights working at B'zar. We lip synced to songs, did group dances, and entertained the customers and ourselves. Kevin did an excellent Axel Rose interpretation and we would demand it at the end of the night. I spent parts of my days there also, moving from a waitressing job to a job in public relations and marketing for them. This made me the ideal person to set up the after hours get-togethers. I could leave early, pick up the beer, and get the jello ready.
We invited everyone that couldn't make it home over for Thanksgiving dinner. Our Christmas tree was up and decorated with the "Chucky" doll from the crane machine and the fruitcake ornament. Our lunch meat coasters were ready to prevent the tables from water rings. We roasted a turkey and a ham, complete with pineapple and cherries. Everyone brought something; food, drink, laughter, and a sense of surrogate family. If we couldn't be with our biological families, we could spend the holiday with our adopted one.
We seemed to smile all the time.
The pictures were the story of me and my two roommates, Rosy and Kevin, and the duplex we lived in. Which I discovered is no longer there. They tore it down and ripped the street up. How does that happen? How does part of your life just go away? Of course the house is not the only part of that time that has disappeared. Kevin is gone also. I still have trouble with it. That he is gone, the way he left. Only Rosy and I are left. Only our memories remain.
25 Random Things about Me
This came across facebook, but thought I would post it here too.
1. If I won the Lottery, I would buy a vacation home in the OBX and give a key to everyone in my family, buy a house in E. Lansing, MI, and start a school that worked MY way, inviting various educators to join me (Carol, Eric L., Erin, Lynne, Amy R., T. Cook, Chris M., Hope, Colleen, Chris G. to name a few)
2. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. Ideas include: teaching, owning a bookshop, writing a book, being a book reviewer, writing and teaching people how to use curriculum, being a gardener. The list never ends.
3. I would love to go to England. One of my biggest regrets is not taking a semester overseas in college and studying at Oxford.
4. Someday I will visit all the Little Houses that Laura Ingalls Wilder lived in.
5. I have read the Lord of the Rings books over 10 times. And I find something new each time I read them.
6. I have a need to research the things I read about, contributing to my wealth of useless knowledge. The first thing I remember researching in depth was the Salem Witch Trials. I found it fascinating that so many people could believe the girls.
7. One of my favorite places in the world is my uncle's farm on Lake Erie.
8. I never felt like I truly fit in during school. I didn't fit in the parameters for beauty, didn't wear the latest styles, and it was hard to reconcile my desire for knowledge and reading with the things other kids were interested in, so I always felt I lived on the fringes. College was a wonderful place, there were people like me. Now I find out that many people felt like that in HS.
9. I love my family more than anything. My favorite times are those spent with them and my mom, dad, and brother are my best friends.
10. I know many people, but have only a few close friends, who I am eternally grateful for.
11. I give thanks every day that when I first began teaching I was informally mentored by two Carols, who taught me to look at education from many perspectives, I learned creative discipline from Eric, I was taught to look at everything from the other point of view by my dad who was an administrator, that I have Erin to bounce ideas off of, and that I found others along the way to advance my knowledge, approaches and attitudes about education, especially the kids who touched my soul along the way.
12. If I had never met the Pi Lams at MSU, I would have missed out on some great memories (Froganaut, Crunchy's, good friends, and a place to live one summer), and meeting one of my best friends ever, Colleen. Thank goodness for AJ!
13. One of the best bar experiences I ever had was in Garcia's in downtown Buffalo. My brother met a girl named Hope and finding she had an uncanny resemblance to his sister in mannerisms and personality, introduced us. The rest is history.
14. I was very nervous about being tagged as Sunday School Superintendent, but now love the challenge and opportunity to showcase the positive of the kids.
15. I had a pair of pink ballet shoes in HS, and am currently looking for a new pair of pink shoes, having worn my old ones out.
16. I watch the new 90210. It is ridiculous and silly, but I watched the original and am oddly compelled to watch the new one.
17. I love historical novels.
18. I love movies, even the so so ones, like "The Mummy" and "Twister".
19. I'm a "glass half full" kind of girl.
20. My perfect day off includes a good book, a good movie, a pot of hot tea, and a comfy chair to snuggle in.
21. Cleaning bathrooms is my least favorite job, always has been.
22. I miss my grandparents every day.
23. I love soup. Especially soup that has lots of stuff in it.
24. My sense of smell is very acute. I sometimes wonder if it has to do with my poor eyesight, one sense picking up the slack for another.
25. I have little patience for shopping. I can spend all day in a bookstore, but tire of malls very quickly.
1. If I won the Lottery, I would buy a vacation home in the OBX and give a key to everyone in my family, buy a house in E. Lansing, MI, and start a school that worked MY way, inviting various educators to join me (Carol, Eric L., Erin, Lynne, Amy R., T. Cook, Chris M., Hope, Colleen, Chris G. to name a few)
2. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. Ideas include: teaching, owning a bookshop, writing a book, being a book reviewer, writing and teaching people how to use curriculum, being a gardener. The list never ends.
3. I would love to go to England. One of my biggest regrets is not taking a semester overseas in college and studying at Oxford.
4. Someday I will visit all the Little Houses that Laura Ingalls Wilder lived in.
5. I have read the Lord of the Rings books over 10 times. And I find something new each time I read them.
6. I have a need to research the things I read about, contributing to my wealth of useless knowledge. The first thing I remember researching in depth was the Salem Witch Trials. I found it fascinating that so many people could believe the girls.
7. One of my favorite places in the world is my uncle's farm on Lake Erie.
8. I never felt like I truly fit in during school. I didn't fit in the parameters for beauty, didn't wear the latest styles, and it was hard to reconcile my desire for knowledge and reading with the things other kids were interested in, so I always felt I lived on the fringes. College was a wonderful place, there were people like me. Now I find out that many people felt like that in HS.
9. I love my family more than anything. My favorite times are those spent with them and my mom, dad, and brother are my best friends.
10. I know many people, but have only a few close friends, who I am eternally grateful for.
11. I give thanks every day that when I first began teaching I was informally mentored by two Carols, who taught me to look at education from many perspectives, I learned creative discipline from Eric, I was taught to look at everything from the other point of view by my dad who was an administrator, that I have Erin to bounce ideas off of, and that I found others along the way to advance my knowledge, approaches and attitudes about education, especially the kids who touched my soul along the way.
12. If I had never met the Pi Lams at MSU, I would have missed out on some great memories (Froganaut, Crunchy's, good friends, and a place to live one summer), and meeting one of my best friends ever, Colleen. Thank goodness for AJ!
13. One of the best bar experiences I ever had was in Garcia's in downtown Buffalo. My brother met a girl named Hope and finding she had an uncanny resemblance to his sister in mannerisms and personality, introduced us. The rest is history.
14. I was very nervous about being tagged as Sunday School Superintendent, but now love the challenge and opportunity to showcase the positive of the kids.
15. I had a pair of pink ballet shoes in HS, and am currently looking for a new pair of pink shoes, having worn my old ones out.
16. I watch the new 90210. It is ridiculous and silly, but I watched the original and am oddly compelled to watch the new one.
17. I love historical novels.
18. I love movies, even the so so ones, like "The Mummy" and "Twister".
19. I'm a "glass half full" kind of girl.
20. My perfect day off includes a good book, a good movie, a pot of hot tea, and a comfy chair to snuggle in.
21. Cleaning bathrooms is my least favorite job, always has been.
22. I miss my grandparents every day.
23. I love soup. Especially soup that has lots of stuff in it.
24. My sense of smell is very acute. I sometimes wonder if it has to do with my poor eyesight, one sense picking up the slack for another.
25. I have little patience for shopping. I can spend all day in a bookstore, but tire of malls very quickly.
Forget Supernanny, I need a Time Management Consultant.
My children are early risers. They tend to get up by 6:30 am most mornings. Sometimes they get up before 5:30. It is just the way it is.
You may be thinking this is helpful on school mornings, no dragging kids out of bed to go to school. You would be sadly mistaken. My kids get up, they just don't get ready. Too many other things to do. You know, dance around the room, defeat droids with your Jedi powers, read a book (something I CAN understand-I would lay around reading too if allowed), anything but get dressed.
JMumbo will get dressed. He just doesn't brush his teeth or put shoes on. Doesn't even consider brushing his hair. Minor details in his life. Too many worlds to conquer on DS and Bakugan guys to figure out. He eats waffles with syrup for breakfast, that helps clean your teeth, doesn't it?
The prodigal daughter won't even get dressed. There are HS Musical songs to sing, calendars to update, and desks to rearrange. The bathroom sink? A big hole in front of the bathroom mirror, which is there so you can watch yourself sing into your toothbrush. Mom is just a big meanie for making her think about being dressed before 7:10 am, which is the latest she has to appear to get breakfast before school.
I finally made a rule for her. You are not downstairs before me, you ride the bus to school. JMumbo is younger and is actually okay with it. The big issue with him is putting his shoes on. He hasn't learned to tie his shoes yet and trying to untie the laces from yesterday and retie them as the bus heads down the road toward the house, doesn't work.
Do they have a reality show about a Time Management consultant with a British accent? Because that would be perfect for our house.
You may be thinking this is helpful on school mornings, no dragging kids out of bed to go to school. You would be sadly mistaken. My kids get up, they just don't get ready. Too many other things to do. You know, dance around the room, defeat droids with your Jedi powers, read a book (something I CAN understand-I would lay around reading too if allowed), anything but get dressed.
JMumbo will get dressed. He just doesn't brush his teeth or put shoes on. Doesn't even consider brushing his hair. Minor details in his life. Too many worlds to conquer on DS and Bakugan guys to figure out. He eats waffles with syrup for breakfast, that helps clean your teeth, doesn't it?
The prodigal daughter won't even get dressed. There are HS Musical songs to sing, calendars to update, and desks to rearrange. The bathroom sink? A big hole in front of the bathroom mirror, which is there so you can watch yourself sing into your toothbrush. Mom is just a big meanie for making her think about being dressed before 7:10 am, which is the latest she has to appear to get breakfast before school.
I finally made a rule for her. You are not downstairs before me, you ride the bus to school. JMumbo is younger and is actually okay with it. The big issue with him is putting his shoes on. He hasn't learned to tie his shoes yet and trying to untie the laces from yesterday and retie them as the bus heads down the road toward the house, doesn't work.
Do they have a reality show about a Time Management consultant with a British accent? Because that would be perfect for our house.
A new hope...in the USA
I truly have hope. I think he can pull it off. The old regime in DC has lost some of it's hold and it is not going to be politics as usual. It can't be, even if Obama only carries through with a few of his thoughts, it is going to shake things up. And good or bad, we need things shaken up. Status quo has reigned supreme the last four years at least. Personally, I think we have lived the status quo since Clinton's last term, when we became more concerned with what was on Monica Lewinsky's dress than what our president was doing as the highest official in our country. Not that he didn't do good things, but how many people remember them?
I need to believe in what Obama says. I need to believe that he and Michelle will continue to put their kids first, keep it a family, keep each other grounded. That Joe and Jill Biden will be true partners to them, supporting them. That we, as a country, will come together to work for the betterment of everyone, not just those we deem worthy, but everyone. He can't do it all, we need to step up to the plate and take our turns at bat, hit, ball, or strike, not send in any more pinch hitters. We need to reach our hands out to our neighbors again, sit on our front porches and wave at everyone who goes by, and give hope to others.
Hope. So many thoughts swirl around that word for me. I think of the hope that has sustained the oppressed for years. I think of my friend by that name, who has overcome tremendous odds in her life to achieve her goals. I think of my children who see the world as a book full of pages for them to fill with their dreams. I think of the man who took an oath today, to do more than be president, but who swore to bring hope back to us.
I need to believe in what Obama says. I need to believe that he and Michelle will continue to put their kids first, keep it a family, keep each other grounded. That Joe and Jill Biden will be true partners to them, supporting them. That we, as a country, will come together to work for the betterment of everyone, not just those we deem worthy, but everyone. He can't do it all, we need to step up to the plate and take our turns at bat, hit, ball, or strike, not send in any more pinch hitters. We need to reach our hands out to our neighbors again, sit on our front porches and wave at everyone who goes by, and give hope to others.
Hope. So many thoughts swirl around that word for me. I think of the hope that has sustained the oppressed for years. I think of my friend by that name, who has overcome tremendous odds in her life to achieve her goals. I think of my children who see the world as a book full of pages for them to fill with their dreams. I think of the man who took an oath today, to do more than be president, but who swore to bring hope back to us.
Customer Service????
There is a huge customer service industry in the world today. The definition of customer service should be "the provision of service to customers before, during and after a purchase". That makes sense, taking care of the person(s) availing themselves of a company's products or services not just at the time of purchase, but the entire time the customer uses the service. Doing it right when the customer is actively involved in the purchase is great, but what about the follow up?
Why has this surfaced today? Because in the last few weeks I have battled the garbage company concerning the picking and choosing of what garbage they will pick up and when, and a discussion with a company that I purchased a waffle maker from who still haven't gotten it right.
The garbage company didn't pick pu all our garbage one week. Apparently the extra bag from Christmas had blown into the ditch and they "didn't see it". I can completely understand them missing the large white bag sitting a mere two feet from the rest of the garbage. I guess two feet exceeds the area they are paid to visually scan as waste management engineers. I am expected to climb down into the ditch to retrieve the recycle bins they have thrown aside and pick up the pieces of recycling they didn't bother to put in the truch, and search the field across the road for my missing garbage can lid that they did not place back on the can the way they found it. I've lost two of those in the last year. But that doesn't fall under customer service I guess. Not coming back for the large bag of garbage they "didn't see" does. We were told to put it out the next week instead, and no, I couldn't talk to the guy in charge because he was out on the road and couldn't be reached. He did call us earlier in the day, must have used the one way cell phone that time. I left my number in case he called in on his walkie-talkie and also for the manager. Neither bothered to respond. I guess that doesn't show up under the customer service section of their handbook either.
If this were an isolated incident, I probably wouldn't be writing about it, but it seems to be spreading like an infectious disease. We purchased a waffle maker. It quit working during brunch the day after Christmas. We mailed it back so the company could send us a new one. Two weeks later i finally received an email stating they had received it and were unable to send me a new one. It was out of stock. They did credit my card with the total amount for the waffle maker, which I hadn't paid in full yet because I was paying in five installments. They did state in the email that I could go to the website and look for a comparable product. My family loved the waffles, so I headed to the website. Low and behold, I found the waffle maker they said was out of stock on the the website, sitting pretty, just waiting to be ordered! I took the time to make a phone call and was apologized to because I was correct! My waffle maker was really available! The customer service representative set up another purchase for me. I thanked her and hung up. I then received an email from the company confirming my purchase...by check. Oddly, I had never mentioned paying by check, but opted for the five payment option to be charged to my credit card again. HMMMMMMM...
So am I paying for the product twice? Do they just not listen to people when we speak? Or was I performing a minor miracle and speaking in tongues? Maybe an alien was channeling a message for help through me and it's classified - if I really knew what I said, they would have to kill me.
Customer service. The ability of an organization to constantly and consistently exceed the customer's expectations. They exceeded my expectations, but not in a positive way. They haven't even MET the positive side of my expectations. No wonder the economy is in such trouble. The services don't serve and then wonder why people won't support them. Why should the population get behind bailouts for companies that don't really serve? That manufacture products as throwaway items, items that must be replaced in two or three years because replacement parts are no longer available.
Customer service. The industry where service is secondary.
Why has this surfaced today? Because in the last few weeks I have battled the garbage company concerning the picking and choosing of what garbage they will pick up and when, and a discussion with a company that I purchased a waffle maker from who still haven't gotten it right.
The garbage company didn't pick pu all our garbage one week. Apparently the extra bag from Christmas had blown into the ditch and they "didn't see it". I can completely understand them missing the large white bag sitting a mere two feet from the rest of the garbage. I guess two feet exceeds the area they are paid to visually scan as waste management engineers. I am expected to climb down into the ditch to retrieve the recycle bins they have thrown aside and pick up the pieces of recycling they didn't bother to put in the truch, and search the field across the road for my missing garbage can lid that they did not place back on the can the way they found it. I've lost two of those in the last year. But that doesn't fall under customer service I guess. Not coming back for the large bag of garbage they "didn't see" does. We were told to put it out the next week instead, and no, I couldn't talk to the guy in charge because he was out on the road and couldn't be reached. He did call us earlier in the day, must have used the one way cell phone that time. I left my number in case he called in on his walkie-talkie and also for the manager. Neither bothered to respond. I guess that doesn't show up under the customer service section of their handbook either.
If this were an isolated incident, I probably wouldn't be writing about it, but it seems to be spreading like an infectious disease. We purchased a waffle maker. It quit working during brunch the day after Christmas. We mailed it back so the company could send us a new one. Two weeks later i finally received an email stating they had received it and were unable to send me a new one. It was out of stock. They did credit my card with the total amount for the waffle maker, which I hadn't paid in full yet because I was paying in five installments. They did state in the email that I could go to the website and look for a comparable product. My family loved the waffles, so I headed to the website. Low and behold, I found the waffle maker they said was out of stock on the the website, sitting pretty, just waiting to be ordered! I took the time to make a phone call and was apologized to because I was correct! My waffle maker was really available! The customer service representative set up another purchase for me. I thanked her and hung up. I then received an email from the company confirming my purchase...by check. Oddly, I had never mentioned paying by check, but opted for the five payment option to be charged to my credit card again. HMMMMMMM...
So am I paying for the product twice? Do they just not listen to people when we speak? Or was I performing a minor miracle and speaking in tongues? Maybe an alien was channeling a message for help through me and it's classified - if I really knew what I said, they would have to kill me.
Customer service. The ability of an organization to constantly and consistently exceed the customer's expectations. They exceeded my expectations, but not in a positive way. They haven't even MET the positive side of my expectations. No wonder the economy is in such trouble. The services don't serve and then wonder why people won't support them. Why should the population get behind bailouts for companies that don't really serve? That manufacture products as throwaway items, items that must be replaced in two or three years because replacement parts are no longer available.
Customer service. The industry where service is secondary.
The meltdown is dormant...for now
I really don’t understand it. What did women do that resulted in some cosmic power deciding not only will we experience mood swings and emotional crisis’s ourselves, but we will also relive them through our daughters? The roller coaster the prodigal daughter has been on this week has left me drained. She is fine. Happy as a lark right now, but how long will it last? The many responses I have received to descriptions of her meltdowns has encouraged me because I am not alone, but makes me wonder why the majority of responses were from women who have girls in the middle of meltdown melee or have already lived through it with their daughters.
The only reason I can pinpoint is the whole apple in the garden piece, but even God couldn’t be that unforgiving. To saddle us with a lifetime of riding the emotional roller coaster is pretty harsh for encouraging a man to eat an apple. And what happened to Adam, who seemed to have no willpower himself? He had no ability to say no? But women ended up with the agony of childbirth and everything that goes along with the getting and bearing of children. Apparently that was not enough. It was then decreed we would have the joy of living it twice when granted daughters. Gee, thanks.
he meltdown is dormant for now. When it will erupt again is unpredictable. What I do know is that is will be just as emotional and draining for both of us. I shudder to think what will happen when the hormones really kick in.
Round Two in the Prodigal Daughter meltdowns
It happened again. Another meltdown. It started after school when she was doing homework. Simple math problems she is very capable of doing if she takes her time and focuses. Tonight was not one of those times.
Once it starts, it spirals into a black hole of issues that really have nothing to do with what started the whole mess. No friends, no one who likes the same things she does, failing 5th grade, never getting into college. (Apparently one bad math grade in 5th grade can do that these days) It is like a warped Energizer Bunny that keeps going and going.
What do you do? Nothing she says makes sense. Very little is rooted in reality. A majority is the change in routine or possibly the return to routine, and the feeling that she will NEVER get all the things she wants to do crammed into her day. She never stops moving. Even when she sleeps she tosses and turns, never really resting. How do instill tranquility in a 10 year old who looks at life as a whole world of living, just waiting for her to grab it and run. And she does run!
The meltdown subsided and she was smiling by the end of the night. When will it hit again and how do I prepare for it, deal with it?
Once it starts, it spirals into a black hole of issues that really have nothing to do with what started the whole mess. No friends, no one who likes the same things she does, failing 5th grade, never getting into college. (Apparently one bad math grade in 5th grade can do that these days) It is like a warped Energizer Bunny that keeps going and going.
What do you do? Nothing she says makes sense. Very little is rooted in reality. A majority is the change in routine or possibly the return to routine, and the feeling that she will NEVER get all the things she wants to do crammed into her day. She never stops moving. Even when she sleeps she tosses and turns, never really resting. How do instill tranquility in a 10 year old who looks at life as a whole world of living, just waiting for her to grab it and run. And she does run!
The meltdown subsided and she was smiling by the end of the night. When will it hit again and how do I prepare for it, deal with it?
Am I looking in the mirror?
It is one of those days. Christmas is over, school starts again tomorrow, and my daughter has crammed twice the amount of activities into the last week that she should have. The result is overload and meltdown. And it makes me wonder...was I like that in 5th grade? Did I lose it completely and breakdown into raving tears and ranting? Did I tell my parents they were the worst ever and blamed me for everything? I want to say no, but have a nasty suspicion I am watching myself grow up before my eyes. I remember the out of control emotions and the feeling that I would never get to do everything I wanted to. I remember the desire to have my "quiet" time. I still crave that time now, and never feel like I have accomplished all the tasks I want to.
Who needs old films and video? I have my childhood, live and in person, playing in my house everyday. And I wonder, where did my parents find the patience and tolerance to let me live? Will I find it before I go completely crazy?
Once again, sorry Mom and Dad.
Who needs old films and video? I have my childhood, live and in person, playing in my house everyday. And I wonder, where did my parents find the patience and tolerance to let me live? Will I find it before I go completely crazy?
Once again, sorry Mom and Dad.
Most Excellent!
My cousin sent me a video today. Actually he facebooked it, but let's not quibble about minor details. It was a video of his engagement and it fit the couple perfectly.
They are the pair that go on road trips on his "scooter", make an adventure out of going to the local pancake house, and seem to really understand that life is about laughter. Who else would spend Valentine's Day all dressed up at the local White Castle and love it? They constantly remind me that life is too short to get uptight and angry about it. That some aspects are so silly, they just have to be laughed at.
They headed to NYC for Christmas and my cousin went ice skating for the first time ever. And that is where it happened. On the ice rink in Rockefeller Center. She dropped to one knee and popped the question. He doffed his cap and said yes. The crowd cheered. They waved. What a story to remember for the rest of your life. And SHE asked HIM. And he was man enough to be excited about it. No macho posturing for him. Just a great big grin and a resounding YES!
Most Excellent!
They are the pair that go on road trips on his "scooter", make an adventure out of going to the local pancake house, and seem to really understand that life is about laughter. Who else would spend Valentine's Day all dressed up at the local White Castle and love it? They constantly remind me that life is too short to get uptight and angry about it. That some aspects are so silly, they just have to be laughed at.
They headed to NYC for Christmas and my cousin went ice skating for the first time ever. And that is where it happened. On the ice rink in Rockefeller Center. She dropped to one knee and popped the question. He doffed his cap and said yes. The crowd cheered. They waved. What a story to remember for the rest of your life. And SHE asked HIM. And he was man enough to be excited about it. No macho posturing for him. Just a great big grin and a resounding YES!
Most Excellent!
It's over again.
I spend over a month frantically preparing for a time frame of about 1 hour (if I am lucky). I get so worked up that everything won't be the way it should, that I won't have enough prepared regarding food and gifts, that if won't satisfy everyone, that I lose the whole point of the holiday. Then the grand moment comes, Christmas morning, and all the preparation goes right up in the air and is over in less than an hour. Everyone takes a big sigh and lays around the rest of the day, already wondering what next Christmas will bring.
Me? I sit there, surrounded by wrapping paper and bows, realizing once again that I worked myself into a state over minuscule things that have little to do with the holiday. I almost am welcoming a recession/depression because it may cause some of the expected excess to go away from the holiday. All the songs talk about the wonder of the season, the joy of family being together, not about how many gifts people get or how much everyone spent on each other.
I am warning everyone. I want an old fashioned Christmas next year. Gifts that are made by hand, with love. Good food and family and friends gathering to enjoy each other's company, without the fuss of "is it right, do you like it?" No stressing because this person or that can't be here, but gratitude for the ones who are. Simplicity. That is what I am craving for Christmas next year. I want to be like the Who's in Whoville. I want a Christmas like the old Andy Williams specials.
You have been officially forewarned.
Me? I sit there, surrounded by wrapping paper and bows, realizing once again that I worked myself into a state over minuscule things that have little to do with the holiday. I almost am welcoming a recession/depression because it may cause some of the expected excess to go away from the holiday. All the songs talk about the wonder of the season, the joy of family being together, not about how many gifts people get or how much everyone spent on each other.
I am warning everyone. I want an old fashioned Christmas next year. Gifts that are made by hand, with love. Good food and family and friends gathering to enjoy each other's company, without the fuss of "is it right, do you like it?" No stressing because this person or that can't be here, but gratitude for the ones who are. Simplicity. That is what I am craving for Christmas next year. I want to be like the Who's in Whoville. I want a Christmas like the old Andy Williams specials.
You have been officially forewarned.
It oozes
Elementary schools ooze. I never realized it before. Having small children at home you see it everyday, but you don't really think about it. When there are 400 of them around you for 6+ hours a day, you begin to really see it.
The oozing.
It shows up from the moment you walk in the door, but you don't realize it until about late October when the cold weather kicks in and they have been shut up together for a month and a half. Then it begins in earnest. The kid who wipes thier nose on the back of their hand then holds the hand out, challenging you to a thumb war. The child who grabs you around the waist and buries their face into your hip, cleverly cleaning the leftovers from the chocolate snack on your sweater at the same time. The kid who sits across from you, ecstatic to be using the blue highlighter, who puts it in their mouth, completely covering it with saliva. It's everywhere.
Elementary kids definitely ooze. The joy at the idea of Christmas oozes out of their faces from Thanksgiving on. Kids sing Christmas carols walking down the hallway, excitedly discuss what Santa will bring them and where they saw him, talked to him, had breakfast with him, name the reindeer, and repeat lines from their favorite Christmas shows. They admire the Christmas related clothing of their teachers. They ooze excitement.
No one can watch a kid skip down a hallway, humming to themselves without beginning to hum along. You can't watch a second grade class put on a Christmas play with out giggling as they sing "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" complete with choreography. Try to watch a class of kids decorate an ornament, pencil topper, or gift box on the computer without wanting to make one yourself. You can't. Their complete and utter dedication to living life to its fullest oozes out of them and covers you, giving you no choice but to join in.
We grow up and forget how to ooze. Maybe every 10 years everyone should spend a week in an elementary school, learning how to ooze again, to let life spill out of every pore filling the hallways. To take every moment and fill it with the excitement of life.
I am learning how to ooze again.
The oozing.
It shows up from the moment you walk in the door, but you don't realize it until about late October when the cold weather kicks in and they have been shut up together for a month and a half. Then it begins in earnest. The kid who wipes thier nose on the back of their hand then holds the hand out, challenging you to a thumb war. The child who grabs you around the waist and buries their face into your hip, cleverly cleaning the leftovers from the chocolate snack on your sweater at the same time. The kid who sits across from you, ecstatic to be using the blue highlighter, who puts it in their mouth, completely covering it with saliva. It's everywhere.
Elementary kids definitely ooze. The joy at the idea of Christmas oozes out of their faces from Thanksgiving on. Kids sing Christmas carols walking down the hallway, excitedly discuss what Santa will bring them and where they saw him, talked to him, had breakfast with him, name the reindeer, and repeat lines from their favorite Christmas shows. They admire the Christmas related clothing of their teachers. They ooze excitement.
No one can watch a kid skip down a hallway, humming to themselves without beginning to hum along. You can't watch a second grade class put on a Christmas play with out giggling as they sing "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" complete with choreography. Try to watch a class of kids decorate an ornament, pencil topper, or gift box on the computer without wanting to make one yourself. You can't. Their complete and utter dedication to living life to its fullest oozes out of them and covers you, giving you no choice but to join in.
We grow up and forget how to ooze. Maybe every 10 years everyone should spend a week in an elementary school, learning how to ooze again, to let life spill out of every pore filling the hallways. To take every moment and fill it with the excitement of life.
I am learning how to ooze again.
Auto bailout or cop out?
The auto industry is in peril. They must have a bailout from the government or they will go bankrupt. What I wonder is, what would the auto company executives have done if the government had denied the first bailout when AIG requested it? Would they even have approached the government with their hand out as they descended from their individual corporate jets?
They will end up bailed out, but I hope they make the owners and top administrators sell all the company jets, give up the corporate suites, toss the bonuses (because you don't reward people who work toward bankruptcy), give everyone in the company a piece of time share in their multiple vacations homes...you get the picture. They need to be turned over Mother USA's knee and paddled with a wooden spoon. Maybe then they would learn the lesson.
Can you tell this irritates me?
I am not for the people who actually make the companies function to lose their jobs, I want the big guys who mismanaged everything put in their place. They screw up and the people who work hard everyday end up paying for it, while the big guys retain their perks.
Should we bail out the auto industry? Of course. I lived in MI for 10 years. I know how important it is. I like the idea of taking money from the AIG bailout to do it. Maybe then the AIG people wouldn't be handing out millions of dollars in "retention" money instead of bonuses this year. "We are going bankrupt!", but the minute the government gives them money they are business as usual.
Our country ticks me off. We have forgotten our basic foundations and become the greedy, self-serving people we fought a war to break free from. If it wasn't acceptable from King George, why is it acceptable from big business? Maybe we need a new revolution, one that removes the people who can't seem to function correctly in their jobs, but are very capable of enjoying the benefits. Are any of these head honchos forgoing their perks to help out their companies? Have any stepped up to the plate and said, "No paycheck for me until the company is back on its feet?" I don't think so.
And there in lies the problem.
They will end up bailed out, but I hope they make the owners and top administrators sell all the company jets, give up the corporate suites, toss the bonuses (because you don't reward people who work toward bankruptcy), give everyone in the company a piece of time share in their multiple vacations homes...you get the picture. They need to be turned over Mother USA's knee and paddled with a wooden spoon. Maybe then they would learn the lesson.
Can you tell this irritates me?
I am not for the people who actually make the companies function to lose their jobs, I want the big guys who mismanaged everything put in their place. They screw up and the people who work hard everyday end up paying for it, while the big guys retain their perks.
Should we bail out the auto industry? Of course. I lived in MI for 10 years. I know how important it is. I like the idea of taking money from the AIG bailout to do it. Maybe then the AIG people wouldn't be handing out millions of dollars in "retention" money instead of bonuses this year. "We are going bankrupt!", but the minute the government gives them money they are business as usual.
Our country ticks me off. We have forgotten our basic foundations and become the greedy, self-serving people we fought a war to break free from. If it wasn't acceptable from King George, why is it acceptable from big business? Maybe we need a new revolution, one that removes the people who can't seem to function correctly in their jobs, but are very capable of enjoying the benefits. Are any of these head honchos forgoing their perks to help out their companies? Have any stepped up to the plate and said, "No paycheck for me until the company is back on its feet?" I don't think so.
And there in lies the problem.
Where is the time?
Do you ever wonder where the time goes? It is that most wonderful time of the year. I love Christmas, the wonder and mystery of it. I love that it revolves around family and doing good in the world. I wish the feeling stayed with people year round. A month just isn't enough.
I sit here, watching one of my favorite B movies, The Mummy Returns, and am overwhelmed by the things I would like to accomplish in the next 2 1/2 weeks. Cookies to bake, decorations to put out, a family newsletter to write and stuff in envelopes for family and friends, a Church pageant to help with, gifts to finish making, the list goes on and on. And I feel I will never finish it all. Where does all the time go? I made dilly beans last night to prepare for the gift giving. I will make more apple butter and continue my cross stitch ornaments. I hope I get them all done.
At school I rush to finish the Christmas bulletin boards before Christmas is over. I am not good at the time management piece of bulletin boards yet. I am learning so many new things about pictures, documents, and spreadsheets, it makes my head spin and I want to practice them all. I just want to play all day. I get one idea set and come up with another to add to it. Right now I need to cut out the four calling birds so I can get the 12 days up in the hallway. I want to finish my Charlie Brown characters so I can add them to the 5th grade hallway. I need to finish updating my goose and pig bulletin board. So many things to do! No wonder I feel the season just rushes away.
Vow to self. Find the time to spend with the kids doing fun Christmas things. Set aside the time to bake 2 or 3 new types of cookies this year. Send all my cards out BEFORE Christmas! (No Rosy, it won't be a Christmas/Valentine's Day card this year) Sit down and enjoy the real meaning of the season.
I sit here, watching one of my favorite B movies, The Mummy Returns, and am overwhelmed by the things I would like to accomplish in the next 2 1/2 weeks. Cookies to bake, decorations to put out, a family newsletter to write and stuff in envelopes for family and friends, a Church pageant to help with, gifts to finish making, the list goes on and on. And I feel I will never finish it all. Where does all the time go? I made dilly beans last night to prepare for the gift giving. I will make more apple butter and continue my cross stitch ornaments. I hope I get them all done.
At school I rush to finish the Christmas bulletin boards before Christmas is over. I am not good at the time management piece of bulletin boards yet. I am learning so many new things about pictures, documents, and spreadsheets, it makes my head spin and I want to practice them all. I just want to play all day. I get one idea set and come up with another to add to it. Right now I need to cut out the four calling birds so I can get the 12 days up in the hallway. I want to finish my Charlie Brown characters so I can add them to the 5th grade hallway. I need to finish updating my goose and pig bulletin board. So many things to do! No wonder I feel the season just rushes away.
Vow to self. Find the time to spend with the kids doing fun Christmas things. Set aside the time to bake 2 or 3 new types of cookies this year. Send all my cards out BEFORE Christmas! (No Rosy, it won't be a Christmas/Valentine's Day card this year) Sit down and enjoy the real meaning of the season.
Creativity abounds
I have begun to draw again. It was the elementary school that did it. I have the time and demand for it because I really have to create bulletin boards. Being me, I can't just print things off and thrown them up there. It is not part of my makeup. It has to be done correctly, piece by piece. In my search I have discovered I can draw. I always knew I could, taking classes in HS and really enjoying them. I used to paint the colored glass ornaments for people also. I painted everything, Disney characters, the Grinch and friends, traditional Christmas scenes. It was fun.
I lost that somewhere, about the time I had children. Go figure! I continued cross stitching giving my creativity some outlet, and I did arts and crafts with the kids. The time wasn't there for actually putting pencil to paper and having shapes and characters emerge. This year I ventured into the bulletin board world, creating a turkey from construction paper and a goose and pig to match. These were cartoon-like characters, but I was on my way. The breakthrough came when I drew Cindy Lou Who on a Little Dribbler night for one of the younger sisters hanging around. It actually looked liked Cindy Lou! I could do this!
I am excited. My grandfather painted, my dad could always draw and now does woodcarving. I knew I had some of the artistic gene, it had peeked around corners for years. I still am at the look at a picture and copy it stage, but that is a step in the right direction. I am hoping by the end of the year I am beginning to create on my own.
I lost that somewhere, about the time I had children. Go figure! I continued cross stitching giving my creativity some outlet, and I did arts and crafts with the kids. The time wasn't there for actually putting pencil to paper and having shapes and characters emerge. This year I ventured into the bulletin board world, creating a turkey from construction paper and a goose and pig to match. These were cartoon-like characters, but I was on my way. The breakthrough came when I drew Cindy Lou Who on a Little Dribbler night for one of the younger sisters hanging around. It actually looked liked Cindy Lou! I could do this!
I am excited. My grandfather painted, my dad could always draw and now does woodcarving. I knew I had some of the artistic gene, it had peeked around corners for years. I still am at the look at a picture and copy it stage, but that is a step in the right direction. I am hoping by the end of the year I am beginning to create on my own.
PR doesn't work if no one sees it.
Because I think I have unlimited free time and I am apparently not of sound mind and body, I added one more thing to my schedule last night, attending the Board of Education's "meet and greet" last night. This was in between Joe's Little Dribbler performance and the Elem. Christmas Concert. One minute I was in the hallway, tucking in my son's shirt so he looked presentable, along with the other parents of 2nd and 3rd graders, all frantically changing their children into concert finery, the next I was walking into the library, to meet people I already knew.
How did I manage this? I settled the family in the auditorium, Nana and Papa included, and speed walked to the library, where they had the board sequestered with cookies. Of course I saw Mr.Jackson when I first walked in and laughing, held out my hand. "Hi, I'm here for the meet and greet." He introduced himself while laughing, because of course, I already knew him. The only one I had never met in person was Mrs. Waddle, who was delighted to put a face on the name. I asked about Joe, which made her even happier, and she told me he now had his official pilot's license and could solo fly. Considering the last time I talked to Joe he was describing his spectacular crashes on take off, this is a decent accomplishment. I informed Mrs.Gray that the Brainstormers had won a match earlier that afternoon, which pleased her because her daughter is on the team. Please understand, the Mastermind/Brainstormer team doesn't win many matches. I am training them to actually press the buzzer when they know the answer, not wait to find out their answer was right and lose the chance at gaining points. It's a process!
The Board urged me to eat cookies, which I declined, and then I left.
The Board urged me to eat cookies, which I declined, and then I left.
Here's my question. Why shut them away in the library? There was a home boy's basketball game in the gym with Little Dribbler performances at both halftimes. There was an elementary concert in the auditorium, and people show up to save seats for a 7:00 concert starting at 6:15. Why not in the hallway somewhere? Why not in the gym entrance? Why not in the Auditorium? Because they couldn't put the cookies anywhere? Get a cart that you can wheel around the hall. Give the cookies to the kids who just finished Little Dribblers and are tearing around like whirling dervishes. Inject them with a bit more sugar before they climb the risers to sing for their parents. Let mom and dad experience the joy of their "hopped up on sugar" kids that we spend the majority of the day with.
Maybe it wasn't dignified enough. It is the Board of Education. The people who make the decisions for the rest of us, the ones we voted into office. They are it. The ones in the know. Keepers of the flame, decoders of the ever changing state education regulations. Honestly? Most of them looked bored out of their minds. They might have enjoyed a little holiday cheer in the form of happy little cherubs in their best Christmas finery. They may have loved watching the boy's Varsity actually win a game. I guess we will never know.
Come on, THINK PEOPLE! You want the community to support you, but again you shut yourselves off from them. Get out and shake the hands that worked the farm all day. Sit next to the people in their best flannels and jeans. Get a hug from an elementary kid with a Kool-Aid smile rimming his mouth. Listen to Coach Thompson and Sam G.tell you a story from way back when. Cheer for the Little Dribblers as they play sharks and minnows with basketballs. JOIN IN!
Maybe it wasn't dignified enough. It is the Board of Education. The people who make the decisions for the rest of us, the ones we voted into office. They are it. The ones in the know. Keepers of the flame, decoders of the ever changing state education regulations. Honestly? Most of them looked bored out of their minds. They might have enjoyed a little holiday cheer in the form of happy little cherubs in their best Christmas finery. They may have loved watching the boy's Varsity actually win a game. I guess we will never know.
Come on, THINK PEOPLE! You want the community to support you, but again you shut yourselves off from them. Get out and shake the hands that worked the farm all day. Sit next to the people in their best flannels and jeans. Get a hug from an elementary kid with a Kool-Aid smile rimming his mouth. Listen to Coach Thompson and Sam G.tell you a story from way back when. Cheer for the Little Dribblers as they play sharks and minnows with basketballs. JOIN IN!
And we wonder why the community doesn't understand the school. The people who are best equipped to explain it are hiding in the library. Once again, let ME do the PR. Pay me a decent stipend and I will bring the school and community together. I have the experience. I kept a dying nightclub going in MI by chasing down the sororities and their dads, by promising something special for birthday's, by beg-borrow-and-stealing prizes for theme nights. I can do this. It won't happen immediately, but it will happen. More quickly than you think. It will take some work, but not that much when you apply common sense to the equation. The Board may have to hang out with the populace a bit, they may have to answer the same questions over and over, some people will still be unhappy, but let's be honest, some people are never happy. In the end, the school will end up in a better relationship with it's taxpayers.
It really isn't this hard.
Thanks for listening to my rant of the day.
Amazing Grace
Some of you know that I am the Superintendent of our Sunday school. I fell into the position a few years ago and never gave it up. It has become a bright spot in my life when other areas were not as brightly lit.
Yesterday was Youth Sunday and as always, I was amazed by the kids. Here's my response, composed during some of the prayers. I'm sure God understood.
Yesterday was Youth Sunday and as always, I was amazed by the kids. Here's my response, composed during some of the prayers. I'm sure God understood.
When the position of Sunday School Superintendent was first handed to me, I was unsure about accepting it. The time and energy to make the Sunday School function and grow was more than I thought was available in my life. I struggled with the decision for several weeks and realized that I had forgotten to consult the one person who could really help me make the decision. Once I gave the whole thing over to God, the rest was easy.
And here I am, 2 ½ years later, still acting like I am in charge of the Sunday School (because no one is ever really in charge) and confident that God’s advice was right.
I love our Sunday School and all the kids that are part of our congregation. I love that they are always willing to go along with whatever crazy ideas Karen and I come up with; building a replica of the temple from Kleenex boxes, acting out the Gospel, touring the church on a symbol hunt, or beginning a recycling program. I love that they enjoy getting up in front of the congregation and showing off what they know and how they see the world. I love that they enjoy each other so much.
Where is all this coming from? Today was the fifth Sunday of the month, Youth Sunday. The day the kids take over the service. One of my favorite Sundays. It doesn’t matter that I am part of the creation and presentation; I am still awed by the power of our kids interpreting and presenting the different readings and prayers. What a spectacular sight! Our youth leading the congregation in prayer and worship! How different the words sound when read by a teenager. The ideas they choose to place emphasis on, the cadence of their voices, their pauses, and the energy that shines onto us all from them. What power the words impart when read by the youth of the parish.
Karen deserves so much of the credit. She spends her time looking for and helping shape the ideas that create the design of the service. She runs the “dress rehearsal” and motivates the kids to take part in forms they are comfortable with. I provide my students with a framework and examples. I help type it up so it is easy to read. T hen we turn it over to our students and God, giving them the opportunity to bring their own personalities and beliefs to you, the congregation. And they always come through, sending chills down my spine, impressing me the depth of their understanding.
So I thank all of you for the support that allows me to be part of this special mission in our church. Thank you for letting us share your children and then give them back to you, showcasing the inner spirit that shines in all of them. Thank you for showing the Sunday School how important they are. Thank you.
Search the web, my favorite online game
I spent a good portion of my day looking for and downloading sound bits to match the pictures on the flipcharts I am making on the computer. We use them with our Promethean board, which is similar to a smart board. You know the one that John King used during the elections? I have one in my lab, but mine uses a pen to activate sections instead of your hands. Much safer with little people all leaning on and bumping into it!
I found sites with Looney Tunes clips including Tweety "tawing a puddy tat" and Tigger's "ttfn". Then I began a quest for Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer sound bits. A few hits later I had them and a slew of other clips from various holiday specials, historic speeches, etc. I love looking for things on the internet. It is a personal challenge and I am always up for it. Me and the computer, going head to head. Who will triumph? Will I stumble upon the perfect combination of search terms to get me where I need to be? Or will I fumble around trying one after the other, becoming frustrated with the power the world wide web holds just beyond my fingertips? Usually I triumph because I refuse to give up. I just keep at it, hammering away at the keys until the perfect site appears on my screen.
This is why I belong with the bigger kids. Because I have magic searching fingers. If I can't find it, it may not be out there. Looking for Rudolph saying, "I'm cute" is fun, but the quotes I really enjoyed? The Monty Python ones, the "There seems to be no intelligent life here", the quotes that require a bit more world experience to really find amusing. I am having a blast this year and my brain is getting some much needed rest, plus my stress level is lower than it has been in 2 years, but my brain still gears up when I find funky sites, not down. I have so many ideas I want to try in the "big" school. This year has really engaged the creative side of my brain again, and I am grateful.
I found sites with Looney Tunes clips including Tweety "tawing a puddy tat" and Tigger's "ttfn". Then I began a quest for Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer sound bits. A few hits later I had them and a slew of other clips from various holiday specials, historic speeches, etc. I love looking for things on the internet. It is a personal challenge and I am always up for it. Me and the computer, going head to head. Who will triumph? Will I stumble upon the perfect combination of search terms to get me where I need to be? Or will I fumble around trying one after the other, becoming frustrated with the power the world wide web holds just beyond my fingertips? Usually I triumph because I refuse to give up. I just keep at it, hammering away at the keys until the perfect site appears on my screen.
This is why I belong with the bigger kids. Because I have magic searching fingers. If I can't find it, it may not be out there. Looking for Rudolph saying, "I'm cute" is fun, but the quotes I really enjoyed? The Monty Python ones, the "There seems to be no intelligent life here", the quotes that require a bit more world experience to really find amusing. I am having a blast this year and my brain is getting some much needed rest, plus my stress level is lower than it has been in 2 years, but my brain still gears up when I find funky sites, not down. I have so many ideas I want to try in the "big" school. This year has really engaged the creative side of my brain again, and I am grateful.
Can't we all just get along?
Recently the racially tinged emails and jokes have been increasing. It may have nothing to do with the US's choice for President, but I suspect otherwise. Fortunately the majority of my friend's know that I don't agree with these missives and I rarely get them. A friend recently received several and vented to me about them. This is my response to her.
My problem is I am a history major. I know that the Irish and Italians faced the same discrimination when they arrived, as did the Germans. The difference? Those people CHOSE to come. The blacks had no choice. "Go back to Africa?" We are the ones who TOOK them from Africa! Against their will! They certainly weren't sitting in the forests and on the plains with signs that said "Pick me!" We forced people of different cultures and races to live in the ghettos and they weren't always the exclusive territory of the blacks. Most immigrants lived in ghettos of their making, segmented from the other ghettos because they weren't welcome any where else. People moved out of neighborhoods when the Italians, Germans, or Irish moved in, which is why there are still many communities in the US that are predominately descended from one ethnic group or another. Remember the incident with Michael Richards and his defense of using racially tinged slurs in his comedy act? His reference to the various holidays and organizations based around specific ethnic groups? The funds and groups Michael Richards was mentioning? They were created BECAUSE blacks were unable to get money for college from other sources. Their accomplishments were not celebrated. And news flash, you can get college funding from different groups because you are from a certain ethnic group, your family was part of a certain organization, someone was a veteran. How is that different? My cousin's can apply for scholarships because their father is a Mason. If your family is not involved in the Masons, you can't apply. I received money for college because my grandmother was an Eastern Star. Others were not eligible, their family had no connection to the Eastern Star organization. Does that make the service organization prejudice?
The Christian piece? Obviously she has not read her Bible very closely because she has forgotten that Jesus was a ... wait for it ... JEW! And he was Armenian. Which means those pretty pictures of him with the creamy skin and blue eyes? Not even close! He was darker skinned, dark eyed, with coarser dark hair. He and his family hid in Egypt for several years. I am thinking they blended with those Africans. (Yes, Egypt is part of Africa, another tidbit people forget) Jesus spent the majority of his life in what we now call the Middle East, you know where the "towel heads" live. Wait, do you mean Jesus was one of THEM? Why yes, he was. So, nice Christian attitude toward the people who are from the same area as your Savior was. If he showed up today, how would you treat him? Would you rail against him too? Here's one more tidbit for you. The white people you feel are so maligned today? They are the ones who nailed your savior to the cross. Yes, the Romans were in charge of that incident. The white guys. Why? Because he was different. And he FORGAVE them. Where are her Christian values that she feels it is okay to persecute those who are different from herself? Obviously she interprets the Bible and Jesus's teachings to fit her personal prejudices, because Jesus and Christianity is all about forgiveness and walking in the other person's shoes. Apparently the shoes pinch her feet.
You are in the right here. You should be offended and angry. Unfortunately people like you and I, who look at the person, not their race, not their skin color, not their ethnic background, but the person, are few and far between. Personally, I don't care what color skin you have, what your life preference is, I care about who you are and how you behave toward others. I don't think your friend truly does. She will tell you, full of Christian piety, that she loves all people, adding under her breath a litany of groups she will not love. She is the person who thinks all Muslims are Osama Bin Laden or Saddam Hussein. She is the person who believed Barak Obama was a Muslim because of his name. Here's the thing. If you can make these distinctions based on race and ethnicity and religion, trust me, you don't treat anyone very well. And you certainly don't live a truly Christian life.
I have a feeling this post will stir some people up, but I have been quiet a long time about my feelings toward this. The fact that our country is in serious economic trouble can be traced right back to the serious moral trouble in our country. People don't live a life based on compassion and understanding. They live according to prejudice and "me first". Imagine if we all tried to live according to the fundamental principles of ALL religions - care, compassion, forgiveness and understanding. Maybe we wouldn't have the large number of violent crimes committed, atrocities committed, and racial tensions that exist today.
My problem is I am a history major. I know that the Irish and Italians faced the same discrimination when they arrived, as did the Germans. The difference? Those people CHOSE to come. The blacks had no choice. "Go back to Africa?" We are the ones who TOOK them from Africa! Against their will! They certainly weren't sitting in the forests and on the plains with signs that said "Pick me!" We forced people of different cultures and races to live in the ghettos and they weren't always the exclusive territory of the blacks. Most immigrants lived in ghettos of their making, segmented from the other ghettos because they weren't welcome any where else. People moved out of neighborhoods when the Italians, Germans, or Irish moved in, which is why there are still many communities in the US that are predominately descended from one ethnic group or another. Remember the incident with Michael Richards and his defense of using racially tinged slurs in his comedy act? His reference to the various holidays and organizations based around specific ethnic groups? The funds and groups Michael Richards was mentioning? They were created BECAUSE blacks were unable to get money for college from other sources. Their accomplishments were not celebrated. And news flash, you can get college funding from different groups because you are from a certain ethnic group, your family was part of a certain organization, someone was a veteran. How is that different? My cousin's can apply for scholarships because their father is a Mason. If your family is not involved in the Masons, you can't apply. I received money for college because my grandmother was an Eastern Star. Others were not eligible, their family had no connection to the Eastern Star organization. Does that make the service organization prejudice?
The Christian piece? Obviously she has not read her Bible very closely because she has forgotten that Jesus was a ... wait for it ... JEW! And he was Armenian. Which means those pretty pictures of him with the creamy skin and blue eyes? Not even close! He was darker skinned, dark eyed, with coarser dark hair. He and his family hid in Egypt for several years. I am thinking they blended with those Africans. (Yes, Egypt is part of Africa, another tidbit people forget) Jesus spent the majority of his life in what we now call the Middle East, you know where the "towel heads" live. Wait, do you mean Jesus was one of THEM? Why yes, he was. So, nice Christian attitude toward the people who are from the same area as your Savior was. If he showed up today, how would you treat him? Would you rail against him too? Here's one more tidbit for you. The white people you feel are so maligned today? They are the ones who nailed your savior to the cross. Yes, the Romans were in charge of that incident. The white guys. Why? Because he was different. And he FORGAVE them. Where are her Christian values that she feels it is okay to persecute those who are different from herself? Obviously she interprets the Bible and Jesus's teachings to fit her personal prejudices, because Jesus and Christianity is all about forgiveness and walking in the other person's shoes. Apparently the shoes pinch her feet.
You are in the right here. You should be offended and angry. Unfortunately people like you and I, who look at the person, not their race, not their skin color, not their ethnic background, but the person, are few and far between. Personally, I don't care what color skin you have, what your life preference is, I care about who you are and how you behave toward others. I don't think your friend truly does. She will tell you, full of Christian piety, that she loves all people, adding under her breath a litany of groups she will not love. She is the person who thinks all Muslims are Osama Bin Laden or Saddam Hussein. She is the person who believed Barak Obama was a Muslim because of his name. Here's the thing. If you can make these distinctions based on race and ethnicity and religion, trust me, you don't treat anyone very well. And you certainly don't live a truly Christian life.
I have a feeling this post will stir some people up, but I have been quiet a long time about my feelings toward this. The fact that our country is in serious economic trouble can be traced right back to the serious moral trouble in our country. People don't live a life based on compassion and understanding. They live according to prejudice and "me first". Imagine if we all tried to live according to the fundamental principles of ALL religions - care, compassion, forgiveness and understanding. Maybe we wouldn't have the large number of violent crimes committed, atrocities committed, and racial tensions that exist today.
I always think the same thing
A friend had to make a choice this week. She had to make a decision about the amount of pain and stress she was willing to inflict on a living being. She had to elect to have an operation performed with a 50/50 chance of survival, or let this being, who she loved dearly, go. She chose to have her boxer put to sleep. She knew her dog trusted her to do what was right, to make a decision that was in the boxer's best interest.
Why do we make these hard choices for our pets and not for the people in our lives? The older I get, the more I sympathize with Dr. Kevorkian and his motives. We keep people alive for ourselves, not for them. We extend lives to make ourselves feel better, to put off the letting go.
At times like these I always think the same thing, why is is okay to be humane to our animals, but not to our human loved ones? Why don't we trust ourselves to make the correct choices for the people we love most in life?
Why do we make these hard choices for our pets and not for the people in our lives? The older I get, the more I sympathize with Dr. Kevorkian and his motives. We keep people alive for ourselves, not for them. We extend lives to make ourselves feel better, to put off the letting go.
At times like these I always think the same thing, why is is okay to be humane to our animals, but not to our human loved ones? Why don't we trust ourselves to make the correct choices for the people we love most in life?
One quick thought
I know it may seem like sacrilege, but does anyone else vote in a church? I do. Talk about not separating church and state. I voted for President in a church. I guess you really can't get away from it completely, no matter how apathetic we become as a nation.
It just appealed to my warped sense of humor.
It just appealed to my warped sense of humor.
It ends, and begins again
The election is essentially over. The months of analysis, pointing fingers, and promises has ended with a historical decision. Of course, either decision would have been historic, but the US went with the top of the ticket to make history. We had enormous numbers come out to vote. That is as big to me, a history major and former social studies teacher, as the result. People are actually sharing their opinion again. Participating in democracy again instead of sitting back and watching from the sidelines. This election generated discussion, even if it wasn't always positive and didn't end in complete agreement. Discussion happened. People took a stand. We headed back toward some of the fundamental principles the big guys at the beginning thought were important in the creation of our government. Talk about it, argue about, you may not agree, but be willing to look at all sides and figure it out.
What a great day to be a teacher. How many incredible lessons wait in this decision to be examined and highlighted, continuing the discussion and arguing and coming to consensus, just like that first congress that met in Philadelphia.
Where will we go as a nation? I hope in a new direction where the people of the US begin to again feel they have a say in the direction their government and nation takes. We begin again, working on making it a better place to live, heading back to the idea of the US being a land of opportunity.
What a great day to be a teacher. How many incredible lessons wait in this decision to be examined and highlighted, continuing the discussion and arguing and coming to consensus, just like that first congress that met in Philadelphia.
Where will we go as a nation? I hope in a new direction where the people of the US begin to again feel they have a say in the direction their government and nation takes. We begin again, working on making it a better place to live, heading back to the idea of the US being a land of opportunity.
Feeling helpless
This is the type of day you spend feeling helpless. A good person has passed away and what can I do? Not really much of anything but wait to see what his family needs, then try to supply it. It is not a good place for the caretaker in me. I know I can't fix it, that this situation will take an enormous amount of time to settle and will never really be okay. That there will be days years from now when I look across the street expecting to see Rich and he will not be there. No one to comment on my gardens, share a laugh with, or just wave to as he walks by. No more wayward golf balls for Joe to find and return, or just squirrel away in his room.
Many people's lives were touched by Rich and I hope he understood that. No one should have to wait until passing away to realize how integral they were to the people around them. It is one of those times that makes people question their faith and rage about why this good person. A question there is no satisfactory answer to. But what answer will satisfy at a time like this?
So I will spend some time feeling helpless, which may be a lesson for me in itself. That everything can't be fixed, that I must sit back and let life take its course. It is not something I do easily. I want to make life better for people. My lesson is, that is not always my job. So I will support and care, listen and comfort. Doing my part and understanding this is all I can do.
Many people's lives were touched by Rich and I hope he understood that. No one should have to wait until passing away to realize how integral they were to the people around them. It is one of those times that makes people question their faith and rage about why this good person. A question there is no satisfactory answer to. But what answer will satisfy at a time like this?
So I will spend some time feeling helpless, which may be a lesson for me in itself. That everything can't be fixed, that I must sit back and let life take its course. It is not something I do easily. I want to make life better for people. My lesson is, that is not always my job. So I will support and care, listen and comfort. Doing my part and understanding this is all I can do.
Indignation anyone?
A friend of mine is a very well read woman. She sends my mom and I news articles to improve our minds and I love her for it. Recently Norma sent me an article via mom about a young woman in the Buffalo school system and her inability to understand English after attending Buffalo schools for over 2 years and living in the US for over six. While attending elementary school she was given instruction by ESL (English as a Second Language) teachers at two different schools, but is now complaining because she can not understand the assignments in English class. Norma is not happy with this young woman and wants to know if we should feel sorry for her.
No Norma, you don't need to. My questions would target the student, who has a poor attendance record, which is blamed on mom not getting her to school when she should be even though the child in question is 15 years old, and has been given no grades for 2 years. How hard has the student worked on her own to continue the transition to the English language? How hard did the student try to be a regular student, involving herself in activities that would allow her to practice speaking English in a relaxed atmosphere? What extra help did the student seek from the school after regular classes were over? What about her mom? Did her mom encourage any of this? Mom is upset because her daughter is not getting grades or taking exams. Mom is angry that her daughter is still in 7th grade. What has mom done to advocate for her daughter? What has mom done to encourage her daughter to be successful? Did mom sit down every night and make sure Nicole was practicing English? What about borrowing tapes on learning English from the public library? Mom apparently did nothing but complain and let her daughter stay home over 50 days the year before she was transfered to the alternative school, then become indignant when charged with educational neglect.
Hey mom! When did it become the school system's job to parent YOUR child? When did Academy School @ 44 adopt your daughter? Why is it the school's job to make sure your child is successful and not yours?
The media wants us to be indignant toward the school system on behalf of this student. What about the kids who work hard everyday to improve themselves? Why don't we hear about them? What about the parents who take the time to check their kid's homework every night and help them with it? What about the families who together learn English so they can assimilate and be successful in our society? Where are they in the news? They don't show up because then the school system is doing its job and that is no fun for the media.
One more thing. The Buffalo Teachers Federation president should be ashamed of himself. Accusing the district of negligence toward this child is basically pointing a finger at his colleagues and saying they are not doing their jobs. Excellent Mr. President! I hope they elect you again because you are definitely an advocate for teachers. NOT! "Whoever is responsible should be fired. I think they should be sent to jail." is what you said. Last I checked, you should be supporting your fellow teachers, not kicking them to the curb. Your teachers are not the culprits in the loss of 2 years in this child's life. The idea that schools are now responsible for every aspect of the lives of the students who attend them is.
Norma, be indignant. Be indignant about the news printing this drivel and giving it credence.
No Norma, you don't need to. My questions would target the student, who has a poor attendance record, which is blamed on mom not getting her to school when she should be even though the child in question is 15 years old, and has been given no grades for 2 years. How hard has the student worked on her own to continue the transition to the English language? How hard did the student try to be a regular student, involving herself in activities that would allow her to practice speaking English in a relaxed atmosphere? What extra help did the student seek from the school after regular classes were over? What about her mom? Did her mom encourage any of this? Mom is upset because her daughter is not getting grades or taking exams. Mom is angry that her daughter is still in 7th grade. What has mom done to advocate for her daughter? What has mom done to encourage her daughter to be successful? Did mom sit down every night and make sure Nicole was practicing English? What about borrowing tapes on learning English from the public library? Mom apparently did nothing but complain and let her daughter stay home over 50 days the year before she was transfered to the alternative school, then become indignant when charged with educational neglect.
Hey mom! When did it become the school system's job to parent YOUR child? When did Academy School @ 44 adopt your daughter? Why is it the school's job to make sure your child is successful and not yours?
The media wants us to be indignant toward the school system on behalf of this student. What about the kids who work hard everyday to improve themselves? Why don't we hear about them? What about the parents who take the time to check their kid's homework every night and help them with it? What about the families who together learn English so they can assimilate and be successful in our society? Where are they in the news? They don't show up because then the school system is doing its job and that is no fun for the media.
One more thing. The Buffalo Teachers Federation president should be ashamed of himself. Accusing the district of negligence toward this child is basically pointing a finger at his colleagues and saying they are not doing their jobs. Excellent Mr. President! I hope they elect you again because you are definitely an advocate for teachers. NOT! "Whoever is responsible should be fired. I think they should be sent to jail." is what you said. Last I checked, you should be supporting your fellow teachers, not kicking them to the curb. Your teachers are not the culprits in the loss of 2 years in this child's life. The idea that schools are now responsible for every aspect of the lives of the students who attend them is.
Norma, be indignant. Be indignant about the news printing this drivel and giving it credence.
Talking Politics again.
I sent this to a friend who I have been discussing politics with. Yes, we are still friends, and we can discuss politics reasonably without it interfering with our friendship. We were discussing Sarah Palin's latest interview, the economic plans (or lack thereof) from both parties, and I gave him my perspective as an educated constituent. Yes, I am a registered Republican. And I used to vote party line. GW changed that.
Here you go...
So what is the Rep. economic solution? All I have heard was what McCain said in the last debate, freeze spending. What is he freezing spending on and for how long? Is he slowing down the money we are sending to support the war in Iraq? What about the money being used to build roads in Afghanistan? Where is the freezing happening? I think that is more my frustration than anything and why the Rep. are losing people. We are tired of the mud slinging, tired of the bashing. Just tell me what you are going to do! And I am not sure what they are planning in this case. At least with the Democrats I have a general idea. It may not be the best solution, but it is really one of the only concrete things I have heard. Highlighting Joe Plumber is not getting the message across, whatever it is. It is just irritating me and causing me to scream, "Get to the point!" at the TV.
I agree that Biden says ridiculous things also. And he does get away with them frequently. "That's just Joe Biden" is common in response. But Biden has years of experience to back him up, Sarah doesn't. Biden has a long record of positives, but every time you turn around you see Palin's hole getting deeper as the media shovels up her past. Someone mentioned her family traveling the campaign trail with her also. I think that is a big thing with me. What mother do you know would wander around the US with an infant like that? If it wasn't a VP candidate, there would be outrage that she is taking ANY infant on tour, let alone one with developmental issues. The mom in me protests.
I agree this is a land of opportunity. I am living in a rural area, with a limited job base and many small businesses. Do I want to see them go under because of a misguided tax plan? No, but I also see people working 2+ jobs trying to support their families, and still only netting $60,000 a year. You can't live on that in NY, and pay child care so you can work your 2 jobs, and feed your family, and pay for the gas to get to and from the jobs, and have any quality time with your family. Are those people unsuccessful? I don't think so, I think they are working very hard to be successful. Are they taking advantage of opportunities? Yes, but at the expense of time with their families. We squeak by every year. Do we occasionally buy things we shouldn't? Yes, but we don't live extravagantly. We don't take major vacations every year. We haggle to get the price of our cars down as low as possible. We don't wear designer clothes and get new wardrobes every year. We don't eat steak and seafood every night for dinner. But we barely make it on less than $70,000 a year. So what are either party doing for me? I am obviously not the middle class in the Rep. eyes. Those people make $250,000 a year. We don't come close! Again, this is what I have heard. Nothing else. So you can see why the party is losing people left and right. No one really knows what they are doing! If I can't figure it out, how are the people with only HS diplomas going to?
Here you go...
So what is the Rep. economic solution? All I have heard was what McCain said in the last debate, freeze spending. What is he freezing spending on and for how long? Is he slowing down the money we are sending to support the war in Iraq? What about the money being used to build roads in Afghanistan? Where is the freezing happening? I think that is more my frustration than anything and why the Rep. are losing people. We are tired of the mud slinging, tired of the bashing. Just tell me what you are going to do! And I am not sure what they are planning in this case. At least with the Democrats I have a general idea. It may not be the best solution, but it is really one of the only concrete things I have heard. Highlighting Joe Plumber is not getting the message across, whatever it is. It is just irritating me and causing me to scream, "Get to the point!" at the TV.
I agree that Biden says ridiculous things also. And he does get away with them frequently. "That's just Joe Biden" is common in response. But Biden has years of experience to back him up, Sarah doesn't. Biden has a long record of positives, but every time you turn around you see Palin's hole getting deeper as the media shovels up her past. Someone mentioned her family traveling the campaign trail with her also. I think that is a big thing with me. What mother do you know would wander around the US with an infant like that? If it wasn't a VP candidate, there would be outrage that she is taking ANY infant on tour, let alone one with developmental issues. The mom in me protests.
I agree this is a land of opportunity. I am living in a rural area, with a limited job base and many small businesses. Do I want to see them go under because of a misguided tax plan? No, but I also see people working 2+ jobs trying to support their families, and still only netting $60,000 a year. You can't live on that in NY, and pay child care so you can work your 2 jobs, and feed your family, and pay for the gas to get to and from the jobs, and have any quality time with your family. Are those people unsuccessful? I don't think so, I think they are working very hard to be successful. Are they taking advantage of opportunities? Yes, but at the expense of time with their families. We squeak by every year. Do we occasionally buy things we shouldn't? Yes, but we don't live extravagantly. We don't take major vacations every year. We haggle to get the price of our cars down as low as possible. We don't wear designer clothes and get new wardrobes every year. We don't eat steak and seafood every night for dinner. But we barely make it on less than $70,000 a year. So what are either party doing for me? I am obviously not the middle class in the Rep. eyes. Those people make $250,000 a year. We don't come close! Again, this is what I have heard. Nothing else. So you can see why the party is losing people left and right. No one really knows what they are doing! If I can't figure it out, how are the people with only HS diplomas going to?
Sitcom with your spaghetti anyone?
Anyone who says writing a sitcom is hard obviously doesn't have family. I went to dinner today with the family and laughed my way through 2+ hours of spaghetti and idiosyncrasies. What else can you do when the house is averaging at 90 degrees and someone is offering to turn the heat on? It was like one long hotflash in there!
I was a bit bummed out that there was no music playing when we sat down to eat because getting 11 people to sit in seats at the right time in the right place would have been so much more fun if it had been like musical chairs. The minute the music stopped everyone sat. If you had spaghetti at your seat, you eat, if not, tough luck! Some seats had bonus plates of pasta with extra forks so you didn't have to transfer. You can't make this stuff up!
It just spiraled from there, from having chilled sherry handed to me (my alternative was Lake Niagara Red), to someone else being denied pie. The master of the house was not happy when that happened! It wasn't on purpose, it was carried over to the table, then removed again before he could get his fork into it.
Family, the best sitcom out there.
I was a bit bummed out that there was no music playing when we sat down to eat because getting 11 people to sit in seats at the right time in the right place would have been so much more fun if it had been like musical chairs. The minute the music stopped everyone sat. If you had spaghetti at your seat, you eat, if not, tough luck! Some seats had bonus plates of pasta with extra forks so you didn't have to transfer. You can't make this stuff up!
It just spiraled from there, from having chilled sherry handed to me (my alternative was Lake Niagara Red), to someone else being denied pie. The master of the house was not happy when that happened! It wasn't on purpose, it was carried over to the table, then removed again before he could get his fork into it.
Family, the best sitcom out there.
What dimension was my team in today?
I was excited this morning. A good team to play, a perfect day in E.L., MI, and my Spartans were on a roll, 6 and 1 already this season. then the whole idea of playing the Buckeyes got to them. It is the only thing I can think of because the team that played today was not the team of the last few weeks. It was sad and disappointing. I hope they come back next week when we play a Michigan team who seems to be figuring out how to play football this season.
So I am now watching a totally unrealistic Clive Owens action flick, just to stay with the spirit of the day. These things don't really happen and things like the MSU vs OSU game shouldn't happen.
So I am now watching a totally unrealistic Clive Owens action flick, just to stay with the spirit of the day. These things don't really happen and things like the MSU vs OSU game shouldn't happen.
The zip code has it!
I was so excited tonight. 90210 was on before the debate! HURRAY!! I tuned right in and have a much better grip on what is going on in LA's famous zip code than what the 2 candidates want to do for my country.
Talk about an elaborate dance. You think 90210 is a soap opera? Have you been keeping up with the election? They are dancing like there is no tomorrow. I was slightly disturbed because it appeared that McCain was toddling. The more I look at him, the shorter his arms appear. Is this just me?? I don't know how excited Obama made me either. I liked some of the things he said and am impressed that he is willing to admit he doesn't know everything, instead of pretending like some OTHER people running for office. I still am hearing an awful lot of round about instead of get right to it. And the tax proposal has me nervous. Can they really control themselves around the opportunity to raise what the government seems to view as easy money, and not tax away?
90210 did not disappoint in any way. Just good old fashioned fun at the cemetery in Beverly Hills. Waiting for Annie and Ethan to figure it out. Wondering if the undercover cop is going to snatch the English teacher out from under Kelly's nose while she is away. And Grandma. Who likes to swim naked in the pool. Especially during the one afternoon a week the landscaper is there. I loved it! Mostly because it was someone else's gramma, not mine. That would have totally been and "eww" moment!
Can I vote for Brandon Walsh? You know who I really want to vote for? Jed Bartlet. He's the man!
Talk about an elaborate dance. You think 90210 is a soap opera? Have you been keeping up with the election? They are dancing like there is no tomorrow. I was slightly disturbed because it appeared that McCain was toddling. The more I look at him, the shorter his arms appear. Is this just me?? I don't know how excited Obama made me either. I liked some of the things he said and am impressed that he is willing to admit he doesn't know everything, instead of pretending like some OTHER people running for office. I still am hearing an awful lot of round about instead of get right to it. And the tax proposal has me nervous. Can they really control themselves around the opportunity to raise what the government seems to view as easy money, and not tax away?
90210 did not disappoint in any way. Just good old fashioned fun at the cemetery in Beverly Hills. Waiting for Annie and Ethan to figure it out. Wondering if the undercover cop is going to snatch the English teacher out from under Kelly's nose while she is away. And Grandma. Who likes to swim naked in the pool. Especially during the one afternoon a week the landscaper is there. I loved it! Mostly because it was someone else's gramma, not mine. That would have totally been and "eww" moment!
Can I vote for Brandon Walsh? You know who I really want to vote for? Jed Bartlet. He's the man!
She's got my vote!
I just watched the SNL version of the VP debate and have decided who to vote for. I think I will vote for Tina Fey. She has to be better than the real thing and she makes laugh, not tear my hair out. Plus she knows enough to get her bangs cut regularly so they don't get caught in her eyelashes.
I've been at this too long
Staff Development Days really fry me sometimes. I watch the presenters and try to figure out how to get their jobs because I know I could do the presentation so much better than they are. You can tell who has never been in a classroom, who has been out for a while, and who taught with everyone sitting in their seats, hands folded, notebooks open. Once in a great while, you end up with a presenter who remembers sitting through staff days and that teachers are the worst audience. We have too many other things we believe our time would be better spent doing. Really, I need the dog and pony show to keep my attention! Or at least make the presentation interactive, fun, involve me somehow. Make it relevant. Don't go through your software's entire menu. You don't really believe I am going to remember what you showed me, do you? Let me play with the program. Let me see what the kids are going to do. I am an intelligent adult, I'll work my way through the menu.
It takes everything I have not to grab the mouse, pen, whatever, from the presenter, shove them out of the way, and take over. This is not me tooting my own horn either. I have done the presentations. I am better at it. The toughest audience ever has told me so, my peers.
I need to find out how to become a presenter. Make the big bucks, play with new people all the time, play with new programs. I could clean up!
It takes everything I have not to grab the mouse, pen, whatever, from the presenter, shove them out of the way, and take over. This is not me tooting my own horn either. I have done the presentations. I am better at it. The toughest audience ever has told me so, my peers.
I need to find out how to become a presenter. Make the big bucks, play with new people all the time, play with new programs. I could clean up!
I'm Done
I vowed this morning, after several days of Palin overload, that this is it. I can't think about her anymore, write about her anymore, or deal with her. I refuse to give her anymore time or energy. We, as a country, have given her too much of our time already. We would not and should not spend our time on a person who can't name a newspaper or magazine she has read lately, but wants our vote for VP of our country.
I want to focus on what the people running are actually saying. Unfortunately, I have yet to find a news station that gives equal time to the other three guys running. I want to know what they think they are going to do for our country. How are they helping me? How are they going to fix the mess we are in? All the anchors want to highlight are Sarah Palin idiocies. Even my favorite anchor, Anderson Cooper. It makes me sad.
So no more!
I want to focus on what the people running are actually saying. Unfortunately, I have yet to find a news station that gives equal time to the other three guys running. I want to know what they think they are going to do for our country. How are they helping me? How are they going to fix the mess we are in? All the anchors want to highlight are Sarah Palin idiocies. Even my favorite anchor, Anderson Cooper. It makes me sad.
So no more!
Just sitting there
I want to write, but am afraid of what will come out. My frustration at the people who want to run our country, and the ignorance of the people who will try to vote them into office because, "they aren't the other guy" is pushing me to the edge. So lately I have just been hanging on, letting the thoughts sit until I can put them into a coherent order and sequence. It hasn't happened yet. When it does, trust me, you'll know.
I'll admit it...
I didn't watch the debate last night. I was in the middle of full blown Hannah Montana extravaganza. But that was only part of the reason. I think I blocked it from my mind. Which is not good. I need to hear what the two candidates are saying when they get in front of people and are confronted with the issues that matter to us, the everyday Joe Shmoes. I can't say anything if I am not willing to listen. I found the majority of it on CNN online and will be checking it out in bits and pieces today.
John McCain seems to have some avoidance issues.
To quote a HS student, "Man up, John! Man up!" Stand up and debate instead of pretending your sudden presence in DC is going to "save" the bailout proposal. As complicated as the proposal and issues surrounding it are, you can't actually believe jumping in after it has started is going to result in you actually helping. The last thing any one involved in a negotiation wants (and that's what this is, a negotiation) is to have a new entity jump in the middle of it. Especially if the new person has an agenda outside of the negotiation. And don't think for a moment that J.M. didn't see this as a political opportunity. His stopping of ads and fund raising to "remove the politics" is a joke. The whole move is political.
So show up for the debate and share what you think and plan for us as a country instead of hiding in DC.
_____________________________________________________
Addendum:
A good friend pointed out that people may get the wrong idea by the original title of this piece. Because I was not trying to cast aspersions on J.M.'s bravery (he was a vet and POW), I changed the title to clearly reflect what I meant. Thanks for the insight!
So show up for the debate and share what you think and plan for us as a country instead of hiding in DC.
_____________________________________________________
Addendum:
A good friend pointed out that people may get the wrong idea by the original title of this piece. Because I was not trying to cast aspersions on J.M.'s bravery (he was a vet and POW), I changed the title to clearly reflect what I meant. Thanks for the insight!
Birthday Bashes are the Best!
Remember when your birthday was the biggest thing in your life? You looked forward to it, counted down the days, planned the event weeks ahead of time. It was exciting! Mary is getting ready for her birthday. She is only having 2 friends, but they are spending the night so it is a BIG deal. She is ready for us to blow up the mattress today! The cake ideas get bigger and better every day. She is positive we will not have enough activities for the night, even with the frame craft and a Hannah Montana Concert DVD. We are baking mini cakes for everyone to decorate. How much more can we cram into a small amount of time? But it is the excitement. The unhindered joy of the birthday. The monumental day that only happens once a year.
I want that back. I want to have my friends over for cake and frame decorating before settling in with a good movie. Why do we stop doing that as we grow older? Why do we limit ourselves to our family only on birthdays? I don't need the gifts, just the simple fun. The all-encompassing exhilaration connected to our birthdays.
I want that back. I want to have my friends over for cake and frame decorating before settling in with a good movie. Why do we stop doing that as we grow older? Why do we limit ourselves to our family only on birthdays? I don't need the gifts, just the simple fun. The all-encompassing exhilaration connected to our birthdays.
Blond vs brunette - how to choose a president
Recently I was having a conversation with someone who asked me what I thought of Sarah Palin. I replied that I felt like she was chastising me all the time. The person said they liked Sarah Palin. This is fine with me. I have no problem with someone's political choices and views differing from mine. Actually I usually enjoy a good debate. The problem with this conversation was that the person used to be an ardent Hillary Clinton supporter. I mean fanatical. And now they are all about Sarah Palin? How does that work??? Aren't Hillary and Sarah polar opposites in many ways? I mean total opposite sides of the spectrum on many issues.
Then I remembered. Barak Obama is black. So he is out. And his wife? Don't like her at all, even less than Barak. Of course, she has two black parents, not just one. Is this how we as Americans are making decisions concerning the fate of our country? What color someone's skin is? Next people will be choosing Sarah Palin because she is brunette and Hillary will never get elected because she is blonde and we all know what that means. Should I vote for John McCain because his white hair makes him look older and more knowledgeable? Maybe I should vote for whoever has the nicest suit.
What happened to looking at the issues and platforms and making informed decisions? Have we completely given up thinking?
Then I remembered. Barak Obama is black. So he is out. And his wife? Don't like her at all, even less than Barak. Of course, she has two black parents, not just one. Is this how we as Americans are making decisions concerning the fate of our country? What color someone's skin is? Next people will be choosing Sarah Palin because she is brunette and Hillary will never get elected because she is blonde and we all know what that means. Should I vote for John McCain because his white hair makes him look older and more knowledgeable? Maybe I should vote for whoever has the nicest suit.
What happened to looking at the issues and platforms and making informed decisions? Have we completely given up thinking?
Are you kidding me?
I had promised myself I was going to lay off the politics and government for a while, but watching the morning news resulted in my having to share something.
Does anyone else find it strange that our president has JUST discovered that our economy is a mess? He canceled a trip today to stay home and meet with his economic advisor's about the economy.
HELLO???????
Please tell me you didn't just figure this out George, that you did it for the media coverage. F.Y.I, it really didn't help you in that respect either. Just gave the late night talk show hosts more fodder for their monologues. Why oh why would you admit that to the public? Why do you work so hard to look like a moron? It really doesn't do much for those of us who are educated. We are not impressed by stupidity.
Stop trying to be a good ole boy and start doing your job!
I have to go change my party affiliation.
Does anyone else find it strange that our president has JUST discovered that our economy is a mess? He canceled a trip today to stay home and meet with his economic advisor's about the economy.
HELLO???????
Please tell me you didn't just figure this out George, that you did it for the media coverage. F.Y.I, it really didn't help you in that respect either. Just gave the late night talk show hosts more fodder for their monologues. Why oh why would you admit that to the public? Why do you work so hard to look like a moron? It really doesn't do much for those of us who are educated. We are not impressed by stupidity.
Stop trying to be a good ole boy and start doing your job!
I have to go change my party affiliation.
Blame it on Carol
She got me started. She gave me a venue to vent about the political system, no holds barred. Well, anyone who knows me well knows that I am up to the challenge. So here it goes kids.
The saddest thing for me is that I really believed part of the problem was we kept letting the men be in charge. The Republicans have a shot at tossing a woman into the mix and they pick one who is like a man, but wears lipstick. What good does that do? Where is Elizabeth Dole? I liked her. How about Tipper Gore, although the beehive reminiscent hairdo made me a bit nervous with her. Put Elizabeth Edwards up there. She slams you in a sweet accent and soft, little voice with her legs primly crossed and hands folded. THOSE type of women scare the beejezus out of me. You know where the term steel magnolia comes from with them. Instead, the gun toting, women don't deserve to be in charge of their own bodies, we still need more oil - drill it baby!, self-proclaimed pit bull with lipstick on. Oh goody.
Suck it up, put it back in your pants and fix our country. PLEASE!!! Stop worrying about Iraq, Iran, Georgia, etc. Sorry but those fiascoes are not new. They have been going on for centuries. Our little war is not going to change much, and neither is Plastic Barbie McCain going to visit the orphanages. (Sorry, she doesn't look real to me, actually she is a bit creepy looking - maybe it was her in House of Wax, not Paris H.) Take a vote, how many people actually believe our war is accomplishing anything productive for the US? Oh that's right, we do that a lot here and call them approval ratings. Guess what? The guy in charge? His rating is in the toilet. And today on the news I hear how the US oil companies are concerned that the dive in the stock market is going to hurt them GLOBALLY? If we have enough oil to sell it abroad, why are we worried about the reserves in the Middle East? Why is gas so expensive?
WHAT. IS. HE. DOING. FOR. ME?
Oh, that's right, nothing.
The saddest thing for me is that I really believed part of the problem was we kept letting the men be in charge. The Republicans have a shot at tossing a woman into the mix and they pick one who is like a man, but wears lipstick. What good does that do? Where is Elizabeth Dole? I liked her. How about Tipper Gore, although the beehive reminiscent hairdo made me a bit nervous with her. Put Elizabeth Edwards up there. She slams you in a sweet accent and soft, little voice with her legs primly crossed and hands folded. THOSE type of women scare the beejezus out of me. You know where the term steel magnolia comes from with them. Instead, the gun toting, women don't deserve to be in charge of their own bodies, we still need more oil - drill it baby!, self-proclaimed pit bull with lipstick on. Oh goody.
Suck it up, put it back in your pants and fix our country. PLEASE!!! Stop worrying about Iraq, Iran, Georgia, etc. Sorry but those fiascoes are not new. They have been going on for centuries. Our little war is not going to change much, and neither is Plastic Barbie McCain going to visit the orphanages. (Sorry, she doesn't look real to me, actually she is a bit creepy looking - maybe it was her in House of Wax, not Paris H.) Take a vote, how many people actually believe our war is accomplishing anything productive for the US? Oh that's right, we do that a lot here and call them approval ratings. Guess what? The guy in charge? His rating is in the toilet. And today on the news I hear how the US oil companies are concerned that the dive in the stock market is going to hurt them GLOBALLY? If we have enough oil to sell it abroad, why are we worried about the reserves in the Middle East? Why is gas so expensive?
WHAT. IS. HE. DOING. FOR. ME?
Oh, that's right, nothing.
What to do about Sarah Palin
I haven't quite put my finger on it, but something(s) really rubs me the wrong way about this woman. On the surface she looks like a good choice for the Republicans, a woman who will look good on TV, has some experience, but can be groomed to fit the needs of the party. But, just like an onion, as you peel away the layers, you find a very different looking woman.
I have trouble with a woman who is against the right of women to choose, but obviously doesn't teach safe sex or abstinence in her own home. Sorry, but after 5 kids, you know how they come about, why aren't you keeping better tabs on what your daughter is doing? Isn't one of the age old platforms of the Republican party family values? How does the situation with your daughter fit in? Is it okay because Bristol and her boyfriend are supposedly planning to marry and keep the baby? I don't know, as a mom and a person who works with teenagers everyday, I think the number one cause of teenage pregnancy is lack of parental involvement. We give teenagers too much freedom and privacy. They are still under our care and privacy is a right, not a privilege. So my question is, if you don't have a clue what your own daughter is doing, how can I trust you to know what is going on in our country? If you can't get a grip on your own house, how can I trust you with mine?
I have trouble with the demeanor she shows to the public, I always feel like she is scolding me, like I was a naughty child. I am intelligent, I have a college degree, I have traveled outside my own backyard. I am well read and consider myself a global minded person. How can I choose to vote for someone who is obviously so narrow minded that she excludes large portions of the population because they don't agree with her? How can the Republican party think that 40 + year old women want to be chastised by someone their own age? I don't think you can be an effective leader if you are not open to other's opinions and viewpoints. The old "walk a mile in someone else's shoes" really applies to public service. You are serving everyone, not just the people who agree with you.
You can't make it personal either, and I am reading more and more about just how personal it gets for Sarah Palin. If these stories are false, good, that makes me feel better, but there are so many of them I find it hard to believe they are all false. How can you want to hold one of the highest positions in the country and rule with your emotions not your head?
Too many questions out there for me. I can't give her my vote. I can't even bring myself to sympathize with her as a mom. A pit bull with lipstick? Not really a connotation I want associated with myself, even if I were a hockey mom. It brings up thoughts of out of control parents attacking coaches and other parents because their kids did not play enough, get enough recognition, etc. Those people we abhorred in the news for their poor behavior? The Republican party wants us to vote for one of them as Vice President.
I have trouble with a woman who is against the right of women to choose, but obviously doesn't teach safe sex or abstinence in her own home. Sorry, but after 5 kids, you know how they come about, why aren't you keeping better tabs on what your daughter is doing? Isn't one of the age old platforms of the Republican party family values? How does the situation with your daughter fit in? Is it okay because Bristol and her boyfriend are supposedly planning to marry and keep the baby? I don't know, as a mom and a person who works with teenagers everyday, I think the number one cause of teenage pregnancy is lack of parental involvement. We give teenagers too much freedom and privacy. They are still under our care and privacy is a right, not a privilege. So my question is, if you don't have a clue what your own daughter is doing, how can I trust you to know what is going on in our country? If you can't get a grip on your own house, how can I trust you with mine?
I have trouble with the demeanor she shows to the public, I always feel like she is scolding me, like I was a naughty child. I am intelligent, I have a college degree, I have traveled outside my own backyard. I am well read and consider myself a global minded person. How can I choose to vote for someone who is obviously so narrow minded that she excludes large portions of the population because they don't agree with her? How can the Republican party think that 40 + year old women want to be chastised by someone their own age? I don't think you can be an effective leader if you are not open to other's opinions and viewpoints. The old "walk a mile in someone else's shoes" really applies to public service. You are serving everyone, not just the people who agree with you.
You can't make it personal either, and I am reading more and more about just how personal it gets for Sarah Palin. If these stories are false, good, that makes me feel better, but there are so many of them I find it hard to believe they are all false. How can you want to hold one of the highest positions in the country and rule with your emotions not your head?
Too many questions out there for me. I can't give her my vote. I can't even bring myself to sympathize with her as a mom. A pit bull with lipstick? Not really a connotation I want associated with myself, even if I were a hockey mom. It brings up thoughts of out of control parents attacking coaches and other parents because their kids did not play enough, get enough recognition, etc. Those people we abhorred in the news for their poor behavior? The Republican party wants us to vote for one of them as Vice President.
Hurricane Ike arrives
This time of year I am always grateful I live in WNY. I know the winters are tough, snow and cold weather limiting the time spent outside, but at least we are not being pounded by driving rain and surging waves. My home is not threatened by 100+ mph winds and I don't have to evacuate. The worst that happens is I may lose power for a while and have to dig myself out of a snowbank. I can handle that. Watching the reporters who stay to cover the storm, I am amazed and awed by their courage.
I feel for the people who have to leave their homes, I worry about the people who choose not to. I am forever thankful that I chose not to live in any of these areas. I am sure they are lovely, but knowing that a natural disaster could remove all of it at any time doesn't work for me.
I feel for the people who have to leave their homes, I worry about the people who choose not to. I am forever thankful that I chose not to live in any of these areas. I am sure they are lovely, but knowing that a natural disaster could remove all of it at any time doesn't work for me.
I try not to talk politics, but...
This morning I was watching my favorite morning news show, Morning Joe. I like it because they don't all agree, there is a variety of viewpoints playing out at all times. Today's broadcast was a combination of 9/11 and the lipsticked pig stories. The piece that hit me was the desire for the media to have the Democrats hit back with regard to the sexist accusations of the Republican party regarding the pig comment. Joe Scarborough asked Mike Barnacle to respond to that and Mike, bless his heart, told Joe that it didn't deserve response. It was the media that deserved to be chastised. To spend two days on the pig story and ignore the issues like health care was a problem with the media, and what was turning people off of politics. Exactly what Obama said in a speech. And I agree. I don't want to hear about a sound bite, taken completely out of context, and used to trash an opponent. I want to hear about what the candidates are going to do for me, for my family, for my country. Let's face it, we are not in good shape. You can spin it however you want, the US is not functioning well. Too many desperate people, desperate for money, for stability, for some leadership that is concerned with them, not the people halfway across the world.
Why can't they just deal with the issues? I don't want another trash campaign. I want a campaign where they discuss issues and their views and what their vision for this country is. I hate the ads that target the opponent and what they didn't do. What about what you did accomplish? What about your goals? Wouldn't that be a refreshing change, a campaign that focused on the actual goals of the candidates, the things they want to accomplish to benefit the American people. Put the pig back in the pen and move on!
Why can't they just deal with the issues? I don't want another trash campaign. I want a campaign where they discuss issues and their views and what their vision for this country is. I hate the ads that target the opponent and what they didn't do. What about what you did accomplish? What about your goals? Wouldn't that be a refreshing change, a campaign that focused on the actual goals of the candidates, the things they want to accomplish to benefit the American people. Put the pig back in the pen and move on!
90210 update
I watched it again. I am officially addicted, again. Part of me watches to see how they are going to revamp the old show, how many old characters I can see in the old. Part of me watches because after all these years, teenagers still fascinate me, and 90210 does them so well. They really do. Anyone who works with teenagers will see people they know in this show.
Okay, now the real reason. I adore the flashbacks with Kelly. When she and her mom got into it this week, ooohhh, made my toes curl. LOVED IT!!!! And Brenda comes back next week, "helping" Kelly out. Yeah right. Brenda NEVER helps anyone out but herself, that is the joy of Brenda, the self-righteous "I did it for you" when we know she didn't. Talk about clapping your hands with glee. That was me.
I am sick and wrong. And I love it.
Okay, now the real reason. I adore the flashbacks with Kelly. When she and her mom got into it this week, ooohhh, made my toes curl. LOVED IT!!!! And Brenda comes back next week, "helping" Kelly out. Yeah right. Brenda NEVER helps anyone out but herself, that is the joy of Brenda, the self-righteous "I did it for you" when we know she didn't. Talk about clapping your hands with glee. That was me.
I am sick and wrong. And I love it.
Bonuses in Geekdom
You know what is great about working in the elementary school? I can wear all the fun little embroidered outfits my friend Colleen sends me. The HS kids would make fun of the tshirt with the pencils and apples, the elementary kids love it. Finally, a place I can truly revel in my geekdom without explanations. Although I do feel sorry for all the HS kids who used me as their role model or permission to also revel in geekdom and feel cool. Geekdom is not for everyone. You have to be pretty strong willed or just plain old to truly be a geek. Talk about bucking the status quo! Forget the goth look, the grunge, the preppy, put on a pocket protector or embroidered outfit, and you are on your own in a sea of conformity. Except in an elementary school. There you are just cool, and pretty, and nice.
And they will tell you if they think you look funny. Not in a mean way, just in a "wow, that's a bit different, but we like it" sort of way. They commented on another teacher's hair today. It was awesome! They loved it. And Kindergarteners are constantly amazed by the littlest things. My cooperating teacher added the sound of splashing to a computer piece we did. Every time a kid moved their name into the "pond", it splashed. They ooohhh and aaahhh every time! It never got old! Makes me want to rewind my kids to see what I missed because I was so busy trying to get them dressed and fed. Makes me think everyone needs to spend a week in an elementary school once in a while, just to remember the joy that went along with living.
I did find one 1st grader who is planning for the future. He is already quitting school. Imagine, he has plans for 10 years down the road! He has a future in world domination because he has patience. Plus he beat me at putting all his letters in the alphabet arc first. I might have let him win just a bit, but hey, he put all the letters there. Mostly because I told him I didn't think he could. That trick never gets old and always works. Even with the big kids. Contrary nature, a most effective tool.
How are my former HS kids? TO'ed that I am not there. And letting me know about it. Do I get the "I miss you" from them? No, I get "Why aren't you there!" and "I can't believe you left me for my senior year!" because apparently I did it on purpose. Apparently I live to mess up their lives. It's not like I dropped off the face of the earth, I still live in town. They still wait on me at the grocery store. They still see me at sporting events. They know where I live. The immediate gratification is gone. They have to work at it now. Not something teenagers are terribly keen on.
Have to go find out when 90210 is on again. I am totally sucked back in. I visited the website the other day.
And they will tell you if they think you look funny. Not in a mean way, just in a "wow, that's a bit different, but we like it" sort of way. They commented on another teacher's hair today. It was awesome! They loved it. And Kindergarteners are constantly amazed by the littlest things. My cooperating teacher added the sound of splashing to a computer piece we did. Every time a kid moved their name into the "pond", it splashed. They ooohhh and aaahhh every time! It never got old! Makes me want to rewind my kids to see what I missed because I was so busy trying to get them dressed and fed. Makes me think everyone needs to spend a week in an elementary school once in a while, just to remember the joy that went along with living.
I did find one 1st grader who is planning for the future. He is already quitting school. Imagine, he has plans for 10 years down the road! He has a future in world domination because he has patience. Plus he beat me at putting all his letters in the alphabet arc first. I might have let him win just a bit, but hey, he put all the letters there. Mostly because I told him I didn't think he could. That trick never gets old and always works. Even with the big kids. Contrary nature, a most effective tool.
How are my former HS kids? TO'ed that I am not there. And letting me know about it. Do I get the "I miss you" from them? No, I get "Why aren't you there!" and "I can't believe you left me for my senior year!" because apparently I did it on purpose. Apparently I live to mess up their lives. It's not like I dropped off the face of the earth, I still live in town. They still wait on me at the grocery store. They still see me at sporting events. They know where I live. The immediate gratification is gone. They have to work at it now. Not something teenagers are terribly keen on.
Have to go find out when 90210 is on again. I am totally sucked back in. I visited the website the other day.
I really don't watch that much TV
I sound like I do from the last two entries, but really I don't. Everyone else has dibs before me, and no one gets geeked about Iron Chef like I do. I do almost have Denny hooked on Throwdown with Bobby Flay, probably because they make his kind of food, barbecue, pasta, and one he wants me to make, Kentucky Hot Browns. Sometimes Mary will watch Clean House with me, but Hannah Montana wins that competition hands down every time.
Tonight I hit paydirt. Not only do I get the tv to myself, but one of my favorite movies, Twister, is on. Why do I like Twister? Who knows. It is not the best movie ever made. I think it may have something to do with Helen Hunt. I loved her character in Mad About You, wish I had her hair, and if I were a guy, I would date her. I would date her as a woman, but I married Denny before I met her. Oh Well!
You know what other movie I love and watch every time? The Mummy. Good, old-fashioned, B movie fun. I love those types of movies! They are so corny! The lines, the story plot, all of it, silly!
Why do some movies do that to us? Suck us in even if they wouldn't get an Oscar from a blind guy on the corner? Why do I like those as much as excellent films like Steel Magnolias? What neuron in our brain controls that and is it just contrary for the fun of it?
Tonight I hit paydirt. Not only do I get the tv to myself, but one of my favorite movies, Twister, is on. Why do I like Twister? Who knows. It is not the best movie ever made. I think it may have something to do with Helen Hunt. I loved her character in Mad About You, wish I had her hair, and if I were a guy, I would date her. I would date her as a woman, but I married Denny before I met her. Oh Well!
You know what other movie I love and watch every time? The Mummy. Good, old-fashioned, B movie fun. I love those types of movies! They are so corny! The lines, the story plot, all of it, silly!
Why do some movies do that to us? Suck us in even if they wouldn't get an Oscar from a blind guy on the corner? Why do I like those as much as excellent films like Steel Magnolias? What neuron in our brain controls that and is it just contrary for the fun of it?
Reality, 90210. No Way! WAY!!!!
I watched the premiere of the new 90210 last night. I had to, I spent the 90's watching the first one, no way was I going to pass up the new one. Plus I had to see who besides Jenny Garth needed a job and showed up. Who did??? Shannon Dougherty of course. That made the show for me. You know that Brenda means trouble, especially where Kelly is concerned. And there they were, in the new Peach Pit (which is now some sort of hang-out/coffee bar with Nat still at the helm) chatting about how long it's been. Brenda is staying for a month, more than enough time for her to mess up Kelly's life, no matter what they said about starting over. Personally I never felt anyone compared to Brenda and her particular brand of nastiness. Not even Valerie. Brenda was the best, a combination of shock, plotting, and rebel that brought them all to their knees more than once.
But I digress...
Basically it is the same show, just set in the next decade, with a transplant family from Kansas (but they didn't name any of them Dorothy, which I would have loved!) not Minnesota, and Dad as the principal of West Beverly, which he apparently attended. Kelly's little sister Silver attends also. I haven't figured out if this is Erin all grown up, or if Kelly's mom had another child. Kelly is a single mom, but dad is a mystery still. I think they want us to believe it is, Brandon, but no confirmation yet. What I really liked is that they brought back the idea of Jim and Cindy Walsh. You remember, the parents everyone on the show loved because they had rules and consequences? The adults all the kids turned to when they were in trouble? They are back, a little hipper looking, but still as caring. One of the final scenes last night was the mom holding up the matchbook from the San Francisco restaurant her daughter flew to for dinner. Mom thought she was going to the local burger joint. How did Mom find the matchbook? She went through her daughter's pockets, that's how. Good for her! And then the daughter was punished! No texting, right home after practice, no social activities for a few weeks. Yeah Mom!!!!
Denny thinks I am nuts for even spending time on it, but he didn't spend all those years in West Beverly, nor does he still secretly watch reruns of it on Saturday mornings.
But I digress...
Basically it is the same show, just set in the next decade, with a transplant family from Kansas (but they didn't name any of them Dorothy, which I would have loved!) not Minnesota, and Dad as the principal of West Beverly, which he apparently attended. Kelly's little sister Silver attends also. I haven't figured out if this is Erin all grown up, or if Kelly's mom had another child. Kelly is a single mom, but dad is a mystery still. I think they want us to believe it is, Brandon, but no confirmation yet. What I really liked is that they brought back the idea of Jim and Cindy Walsh. You remember, the parents everyone on the show loved because they had rules and consequences? The adults all the kids turned to when they were in trouble? They are back, a little hipper looking, but still as caring. One of the final scenes last night was the mom holding up the matchbook from the San Francisco restaurant her daughter flew to for dinner. Mom thought she was going to the local burger joint. How did Mom find the matchbook? She went through her daughter's pockets, that's how. Good for her! And then the daughter was punished! No texting, right home after practice, no social activities for a few weeks. Yeah Mom!!!!
Denny thinks I am nuts for even spending time on it, but he didn't spend all those years in West Beverly, nor does he still secretly watch reruns of it on Saturday mornings.
A Perfect Ending
The kids and I had some lovely pasta with peas and ham for dinner and ice cream is waiting in the wings. They are clean and ready to go tomorrow. We picked outfits for the rest of the week, backpacks are ready, and Mary and I will be making banana muffins for breakfast tomorrow.
My new spot is wonderful. People keep smiling at me and seem very open to having me help them. I have a semi-permanent schedule, with actual classes and set work time in the lab. I moved some things today and will continue through-out the week. I am relaxed and ready to go.
My new spot is wonderful. People keep smiling at me and seem very open to having me help them. I have a semi-permanent schedule, with actual classes and set work time in the lab. I moved some things today and will continue through-out the week. I am relaxed and ready to go.
And So It Begins...
Today is the first day of the new school year for me. I have to transport all my belongings from one building to the other, deliver a tree to Bucur, and settle in my new spot. I have to figure out how to make it through the day without my chats with Erin-the email will be busy! I have to assimilate into a new faculty and level of kids, which I am looking forward to. I have to continue healing from last year, becoming excited about working with kids again. And what a wonderful place to do it! I am looking forward to the new challenges and experiences. I am looking forward to seeing my kids everyday and being there for the little things that make their days special. I am looking forward to bringing a new perspective and learning a new perspective.
My last day of summer was perfect. We bought Mary sneakers in Geneseo, a good thing because I am big on supporting local economy, not just Rochester's. Later Joe and I went apple picking. What a moment for my son and I to chat and relax. We met a cat who hung out with us and had a tour of the old Goll place from Vicky. We also have an open invitation to come back whenever. I am going to have applesauce everywhere this year!
I had some time to gather seeds from my garden and scatter some for next year, some time to read, and Denny, Jordy and I came up with a solution to the redecoration of the bathroom. Perfect!
My last day of summer was perfect. We bought Mary sneakers in Geneseo, a good thing because I am big on supporting local economy, not just Rochester's. Later Joe and I went apple picking. What a moment for my son and I to chat and relax. We met a cat who hung out with us and had a tour of the old Goll place from Vicky. We also have an open invitation to come back whenever. I am going to have applesauce everywhere this year!
I had some time to gather seeds from my garden and scatter some for next year, some time to read, and Denny, Jordy and I came up with a solution to the redecoration of the bathroom. Perfect!
Canning, canning, canning!
I know I left you hanging with the last idea, but I have to move forward with another, related one. I have spent the last few days canning. I love canning. I love the process, chopping and cooking, sealing and cooling, and the way everything looks on my shelves when it is finished. I feel like I am actually providing for my family in a very real way. Knowing that I have prepared for the winter, that we can eat food I prepared and that I know has only the most natural and fresh ingredients, makes me feel safer and healthier. I hate buying canned fruits and vegetables in the store. So many ingredients that I can't pronounce or spell. That makes me nervous. I am convinced that the preservatives and chemicals in food today are part of what makes people sick. We are so caught up in our "hurry up and finish to move on to the next thing" world, that we eat atrocious artificial food. Enormous farms to grow pork, chicken, and beef that has no taste, large produce farms that contain the possibility of disease, I can't live with that. I know the spinach scare is over, but I still have trouble buying it in the store. And I love spinach! How do you teach your children to feel safe in a world where the food they eat may be contaminated? My solution is to grown and can my own. Or freeze it, like I do with the corn. My one wish every summer is that I had a bigger vegetable garden space to grow more. Instead I try to buy it from the farm markets in the area. We feel better eating this food I have created. We don't get sick as often. I am convinced it is knowing the ingredients and being able to pronounce them all.
Creativity in Process, please be patient
I am preparing to make and can salsa, then peaches. I finished the corn - 30 bags in my freezer. I cooked most of it outside on the grill. Too much in the house. Now I know why pioneers cooked outside! And why older houses have summer kitchens!
Will continue later...had to add the thought while it was there, before it went away and I couldn't explore it further.
Thanks for your patience!
Will continue later...had to add the thought while it was there, before it went away and I couldn't explore it further.
Thanks for your patience!
Out with the Old, In with the New
My new mattress is here!
I laid on it and all my muscles and nerves did a tingling dance of joy. They never wanted to leave! Then I rolled over and let my stomach have some happy time. I almost refused to move from the middle so Denny could test it out, but relented, briefly. So soft! So cushy! So smooth! This is truly heaven on earth!
The young men delivering the new mattress and removing our old one were apparently not impressed by the one going with them. Could it be that it was half the height of the one they brought with them? Or possibly the massive indentation in the middle, the one that a small animal or child could be lost in. Either way, there was a brief exclamation when they picked it up.
Once again, it's the small things that make life worth living.
I laid on it and all my muscles and nerves did a tingling dance of joy. They never wanted to leave! Then I rolled over and let my stomach have some happy time. I almost refused to move from the middle so Denny could test it out, but relented, briefly. So soft! So cushy! So smooth! This is truly heaven on earth!
The young men delivering the new mattress and removing our old one were apparently not impressed by the one going with them. Could it be that it was half the height of the one they brought with them? Or possibly the massive indentation in the middle, the one that a small animal or child could be lost in. Either way, there was a brief exclamation when they picked it up.
Once again, it's the small things that make life worth living.
Everything I need to know I learned on a trip to Rhode Island
1. You can fill Bill Lanier and Shaquille O'Neal's shoes, if you put one foot in front of the other.
2. Putting a cherry on top makes anything Delicious!
3. You don't need a radar detector, just three year old twin boys to yell "POLICEMAN!
POLICEMAN!".
4. Digging a big hole on the beach with a bunch of kids is the most fulfilling and creative
activity I have ever been a part of.
5. Being brave means going out past the breakers and diving under the waves the first time.
After that, it's just fun.
6. Standing on a big rock next to the ocean makes you the tallest person in the whole world.
7. Animal crackers taste best after a day at the beach, when fed to you by a three year old,
but only when you make the noise of the animal you just ate.
8. 14 year old cousins have excellent hair.
9. Roasting marshmallows, eating chocolate, and nibbling on graham crackers is great, except
when some adult tries to stick them all together into a gooey mess.
10. Snails attached to rocks are amazing. And fun to take to grandma so she can cook them
for supper!
11. Helping your cousin crack a lobster is a wonderful experience. So is watching your
daughter eat one.
More to come later...
2. Putting a cherry on top makes anything Delicious!
3. You don't need a radar detector, just three year old twin boys to yell "POLICEMAN!
POLICEMAN!".
4. Digging a big hole on the beach with a bunch of kids is the most fulfilling and creative
activity I have ever been a part of.
5. Being brave means going out past the breakers and diving under the waves the first time.
After that, it's just fun.
6. Standing on a big rock next to the ocean makes you the tallest person in the whole world.
7. Animal crackers taste best after a day at the beach, when fed to you by a three year old,
but only when you make the noise of the animal you just ate.
8. 14 year old cousins have excellent hair.
9. Roasting marshmallows, eating chocolate, and nibbling on graham crackers is great, except
when some adult tries to stick them all together into a gooey mess.
10. Snails attached to rocks are amazing. And fun to take to grandma so she can cook them
for supper!
11. Helping your cousin crack a lobster is a wonderful experience. So is watching your
daughter eat one.
More to come later...
Camp Colombo Goes To the Beach
I will make this short and sweet.
We made it to the beach, have spent two wonderful days in the sun and sand, AND I haven't turned pink yet! ( a major achievement for me) My kids are having a wonderful time with their cousins and I love the family being together, even with all our crazy quirks.
We did stop at the Basketball Hall of Fame on the way here. I look at the giant silver basketball as we pass it every year and want to go, so this year, after a short, unplanned sightseeing trip of Springfield, we finally found the exit and headed in. For anyone who has ever enjoyed basketball, this is a must. I am a fan of MSU basketball, and like a good high school game, but am not a diehard by any means. The place is still worth the admission. Just walking in and placing your foot in the print of Michael Jordan or Cheryl Miller is awesome. And they are not the biggest there! All the greats are gathered, from all generations. We took several pictures of Dean Smith for Denny and the kids boomeranged plush basketballs at hoops in the Kid Zone. The first floor is an enormous court full of balls for shooting and dribbling. Even Joe, who didn't want anything to interfere with his journey to the beach, was smiling by the end of the tour.
On the road again, we pulled into the Beach Guy's house around 4:00 and were pleased to learn that my cousin Shelly and her three boys were already there and Phillip, Sandy and kids were on their way. My brother would complete the group later that night, choosing to miss the NYC bridge traffic and drive later in the evening. Why he did not want to wait to cross one of the bridges is beyond me, sitting for hours in slow moving traffic is sooo much fun!
I will post pictures when I return home, so sometime Wednesday. We have one more beach day. The pulled pork was proclaimed an improvement from last year. Everyone has a sunny glow and bug bites. A well-rounded vacation!
Writer's block or stress?
Please be gentle with me, I am fighting major blockage right now in my brain. Actually, it is not blocked, just unable to focus on anything for too long. Getting ready for the yearly beach visit is some of it, but not all of it. Every time the phone rings I cringe, waiting for the next installment. Some know of which I speak, and I won't make the rest of you crazy with the details, no one else needs the stress. Just put us all in your good thoughts pile and send some inner strength our way. We are going to need it.
Oh, and those of you with adolescents, be strong, know where they are, question and push them to share, and don't be afraid you are too tough on them. They want you to be, you are all that stands between your teenager and the multitude of influences out there. Help them choose a path to fulfill their dreams, allow them some individuality, but keeps them safe also. Even if it means they don't like you sometimes. Trust me, their anger and irritation will move on to someone or something else before you know it. You are a parent, your job is to be the one they can unleash their fury on, to be the guide not the friend. Being their friend comes later, when they are parents of teenagers!!!
I'm headed to pack for the beach now. Travel bags are ready, clothes are waiting, and the pulled pork needs to be frozen for the trip. I also have to get my new contacts today, the old ones are really bothering my eyes. Maybe we will stop for a few extra goodies to take, and I have to pick up the Nunda Mustard or I may be drummed out of the family! :-)
Think good thoughts for us and someday I will return the favor.
Oh, and those of you with adolescents, be strong, know where they are, question and push them to share, and don't be afraid you are too tough on them. They want you to be, you are all that stands between your teenager and the multitude of influences out there. Help them choose a path to fulfill their dreams, allow them some individuality, but keeps them safe also. Even if it means they don't like you sometimes. Trust me, their anger and irritation will move on to someone or something else before you know it. You are a parent, your job is to be the one they can unleash their fury on, to be the guide not the friend. Being their friend comes later, when they are parents of teenagers!!!
I'm headed to pack for the beach now. Travel bags are ready, clothes are waiting, and the pulled pork needs to be frozen for the trip. I also have to get my new contacts today, the old ones are really bothering my eyes. Maybe we will stop for a few extra goodies to take, and I have to pick up the Nunda Mustard or I may be drummed out of the family! :-)
Think good thoughts for us and someday I will return the favor.
Don't worry, they're still around!
I moved my photos to their own page. I will attach albums or filmstrips occasionally, with the full album on the photos page.
Visiting my childhood
The kids and I are off to Laura Ingalls Wilder day at the Genesee Country Museum. We will be investigating soap carving, sunbonnet making, corn husk doll making and other appropriate tasks. I can't wait!
Considering that one of my dream vacations would be to follow Laura's trail and visit each of the "little houses", this is my idea of a perfect excursion.
I will update on my return, but hope for a fun-filled day!
---------------------------------------------------
What a spectacular day! Not only was it Laura Ingalls Wilder day, but they had a baseball tournament going on, the teams that play in the Silver League, all old-time baseball. They played in the stadium and on the green by the front gate. No gloves, no catcher gear, and string ties around their necks! It was the perfect addition to the day.
I have never been to Mumford and the Village. Amazing, but true. I will go back, that is a given. I could spend hours there, investigating the various buildings and homes, checking out the little details like the fireplace screens and beautiful furniture. The gardens made me want to bring my blanket and book with a picnic basket and spend the day lolling on the lawn. The vegetables and herbs enlightened me, providing me with visuals to place with names.
Mary made a cornhusk doll, a simple process, with excellent results. I did sympathize with the two women who were demonstrating. They were surrounded by girls and parents struggling to tie yarn and manipulate corn husks, but were kind, encouraging, and patient.
---------------------------------------------------
I have to apologize for this entry. It doesn't give much to the readers. I have been a bit preoccupied with some inner family turmoil lately, and my writing is suffering for it. My baking is not, mini zucchini muffins and chocolate chip cookies yesterday. Today I make spaghetti sauce and roast pork for the Beach Guy's pulled pork dinner. (I have to confess, I really make the pulled pork for Phillip, who praises it every year, offering his commentary, allowing me to improve on it, but relishing each contribution) I am cooking away my stress, and it just might be working.
I promise to come back and write more about the day at Mumford. I thoroughly enjoyed it and desperately want a sunbonnet, calico dress and apron to wear next year.
Considering that one of my dream vacations would be to follow Laura's trail and visit each of the "little houses", this is my idea of a perfect excursion.
I will update on my return, but hope for a fun-filled day!
---------------------------------------------------
What a spectacular day! Not only was it Laura Ingalls Wilder day, but they had a baseball tournament going on, the teams that play in the Silver League, all old-time baseball. They played in the stadium and on the green by the front gate. No gloves, no catcher gear, and string ties around their necks! It was the perfect addition to the day.
I have never been to Mumford and the Village. Amazing, but true. I will go back, that is a given. I could spend hours there, investigating the various buildings and homes, checking out the little details like the fireplace screens and beautiful furniture. The gardens made me want to bring my blanket and book with a picnic basket and spend the day lolling on the lawn. The vegetables and herbs enlightened me, providing me with visuals to place with names.
Mary made a cornhusk doll, a simple process, with excellent results. I did sympathize with the two women who were demonstrating. They were surrounded by girls and parents struggling to tie yarn and manipulate corn husks, but were kind, encouraging, and patient.
---------------------------------------------------
I have to apologize for this entry. It doesn't give much to the readers. I have been a bit preoccupied with some inner family turmoil lately, and my writing is suffering for it. My baking is not, mini zucchini muffins and chocolate chip cookies yesterday. Today I make spaghetti sauce and roast pork for the Beach Guy's pulled pork dinner. (I have to confess, I really make the pulled pork for Phillip, who praises it every year, offering his commentary, allowing me to improve on it, but relishing each contribution) I am cooking away my stress, and it just might be working.
I promise to come back and write more about the day at Mumford. I thoroughly enjoyed it and desperately want a sunbonnet, calico dress and apron to wear next year.
Darth Vader cakes and Hannah Montana in 3-D
Joe had his 7th birthday on Saturday, a day filled with the joyful noise of boys running rampant through my house, garage, and yard, family gathering to eat "churkey", and a fevered excitement of "what comes next".
I always try to make and decorate a cake that will please my children, asking them what they would like on it, what flavor, etc. This year Joe wanted Darth Vader or Star Wars. I could not imagine myself creating a space battle with icing, but remembered that the Home and Careers teacher at school had a Darth Vader cake pan. I called and she gave her encouraging permission, a bonus because we cruised the internet looking and only found them on eBay for $45 and up. Cake pan in hand, I began the process. The batter overflowed the pan scorching my oven a bit, but the cake turned out perfect, except for the two corners I had to glue back on with icing, but what 7 year old would notice that? With my luck they would all want those pieces for the bonus icing! Who am I kidding? I wanted those pieces for the bonus icing!
The next morning I began the process of making black icing. If you have never attempted this, a word of caution, it takes a large amount of liquid food coloring and tastes icky when finished, unless you start with chocolate frosting. So Darth Vader was more of a "brother" than a Sith Lord, the audience is 7, their observation skills are limited to how much actually cake they have to eat with the frosting they scraped off. A little bright red to outline the features, write "Joe Vader" in a sickly green color similar to the shade of Yoda's skin, and we were good to go. (To see the finished product, check out the photos)
That excitement out of the way, the party proceeded full steam, with all heading home full of cake and adrenaline. Next up, the family.
Surprisingly this was a pleasant gathering. You never know with families, they tend to feel it's okay to act like yourself around each other, not always with positive results. Our churkey was wonderful. I feel I need to clarify the "churkey" reference. My uncles own a farm. They raise chickens. Recently they raised superhero chickens, chickens who could rival Superman anyday in the size department. These are hefty 10+ lb. chickens folks, able to lift small chicken coops with a single wing. My mom took one look at them and said they looked more like turkeys than chickens, resulting in the creation of churkey. They taste wonderful and easily feed a gathering of 7 or more with some for everyone to take home.
You would think this was more than enough excitement for the day, but you would be sadly mistaken. For this was the one and only night the Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus concert in 3-D was being broadcast. If you thought we were getting out of that, you obviously don't know many 10 year old girls. With 3-D glasses in place, a special Hannah Montana pair gracing Mary's face, the concert began. Even Denny got in on the action, in between comments regarding Miley's monetary status vs her age. Personally? I am not a big fan of 3-D. Looking through those glasses makes my head spin after a while, and looking at the tv without them is worse. Plus, I laid on the floor with Joe, who was so tired he couldn't stop moving. This meant my glasses had to perch on the very end of my nose. Trying to coordinate the 3-D glasses and my regular glasses was more work than I had bargained for at the end of a very busy day.
Since that night, STARZ has run the concert multiple times. So much for the Disney exclusive!
I always try to make and decorate a cake that will please my children, asking them what they would like on it, what flavor, etc. This year Joe wanted Darth Vader or Star Wars. I could not imagine myself creating a space battle with icing, but remembered that the Home and Careers teacher at school had a Darth Vader cake pan. I called and she gave her encouraging permission, a bonus because we cruised the internet looking and only found them on eBay for $45 and up. Cake pan in hand, I began the process. The batter overflowed the pan scorching my oven a bit, but the cake turned out perfect, except for the two corners I had to glue back on with icing, but what 7 year old would notice that? With my luck they would all want those pieces for the bonus icing! Who am I kidding? I wanted those pieces for the bonus icing!
The next morning I began the process of making black icing. If you have never attempted this, a word of caution, it takes a large amount of liquid food coloring and tastes icky when finished, unless you start with chocolate frosting. So Darth Vader was more of a "brother" than a Sith Lord, the audience is 7, their observation skills are limited to how much actually cake they have to eat with the frosting they scraped off. A little bright red to outline the features, write "Joe Vader" in a sickly green color similar to the shade of Yoda's skin, and we were good to go. (To see the finished product, check out the photos)
That excitement out of the way, the party proceeded full steam, with all heading home full of cake and adrenaline. Next up, the family.
Surprisingly this was a pleasant gathering. You never know with families, they tend to feel it's okay to act like yourself around each other, not always with positive results. Our churkey was wonderful. I feel I need to clarify the "churkey" reference. My uncles own a farm. They raise chickens. Recently they raised superhero chickens, chickens who could rival Superman anyday in the size department. These are hefty 10+ lb. chickens folks, able to lift small chicken coops with a single wing. My mom took one look at them and said they looked more like turkeys than chickens, resulting in the creation of churkey. They taste wonderful and easily feed a gathering of 7 or more with some for everyone to take home.
You would think this was more than enough excitement for the day, but you would be sadly mistaken. For this was the one and only night the Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus concert in 3-D was being broadcast. If you thought we were getting out of that, you obviously don't know many 10 year old girls. With 3-D glasses in place, a special Hannah Montana pair gracing Mary's face, the concert began. Even Denny got in on the action, in between comments regarding Miley's monetary status vs her age. Personally? I am not a big fan of 3-D. Looking through those glasses makes my head spin after a while, and looking at the tv without them is worse. Plus, I laid on the floor with Joe, who was so tired he couldn't stop moving. This meant my glasses had to perch on the very end of my nose. Trying to coordinate the 3-D glasses and my regular glasses was more work than I had bargained for at the end of a very busy day.
Since that night, STARZ has run the concert multiple times. So much for the Disney exclusive!
Library abusers anonymous
I need help.
I find it physically impossible to enter a library and not check out a book. I have 5 books sitting next to my bed with bookmarks in various places. Do I finish these before checking more out? NO! I check another 5 out. This is insane.
Did I mention this pile by my bed does not include the TWO shelves I have that I purchased at the Pittsford Library Sale (my idea of heaven on earth) this past year? That's TWO shelves I have not even begun to read yet. But I can't help it, so many books calling my name, begging me to take them home. I already started reading 2 of them, in the library, during the magician's presentation.
I need help.
I find it physically impossible to enter a library and not check out a book. I have 5 books sitting next to my bed with bookmarks in various places. Do I finish these before checking more out? NO! I check another 5 out. This is insane.
Did I mention this pile by my bed does not include the TWO shelves I have that I purchased at the Pittsford Library Sale (my idea of heaven on earth) this past year? That's TWO shelves I have not even begun to read yet. But I can't help it, so many books calling my name, begging me to take them home. I already started reading 2 of them, in the library, during the magician's presentation.
I need help.
Raindrops Keep Fallin' on my Head
Make it stop! I know I was excited it was going to rain, but that was 5 days ago! Make it stop please! My skin is starting to prune inside the house from the moisture in the air, and let's not even talk about the complete lack of body and bounce in my already limited hair. My plants are not marsh plants or pond plants, they like sun. They were planted specifically because they like sun. They dislike this weather also. All yellow and wrinkly, trying bravely to reseed from their sopping centers.
On the Road with Joe
Joe and I headed down to Hornell today to return the Time Warner cable boxes. I don't know if anyone remembers, but we used to be able to watch tv for free. The channels were limited, but who watches all 2678 channels available now anyway. Honestly, we all end up watching maybe 10 on a regular basis. And even then, I can't find something on I want to watch most of the time. So we switched to Direct TV, about the same number of channels, but around $20 less a month when all the specials run out. This resulted in the need to return the cable boxes, and we thought we would try Hornell, a much closer locale than Rochester or Batavia.
We cruised into Hornell, ready for a scrumptious lunch at Burger King, fine dining for the 7 year old set. Why wouldn't it be? Every meal comes with a toy that will fall apart or be left laying on the floor for mom to step on in the middle of the night, but must never be thrown away because it is PRECIOUS!! (gollum, gollum) I, of course, had no cash, so we walked down to the bank. Do you notice a pattern with the Colombo family and ready cash??? We withdrew money and headed back to the BK mecca. Bonus for Joe, he received not one, but TWO sets of chicken pieces shaped like crowns. Most Excellent!
Our meal finished we headed toward the address I had looked up for TW. I found the road, but nothing bearing any resemblance to an office was on it. We turned around and decided to stop at the police station and ask. Those wascally wabbits listed the address of the TOWER, not the office! The officer explained how to find the office on Main Street and with Joe's help, we pulled in right in front. The lovely lady inside explained to us that we could not return our box here, but we could call the Rochester office and have them pick it up. BONUS!
Back into the car with only one minor injury, Joe whacked his head into the side of the cable box on the way out the door. Of course the entry way was the size of my stand up shower, so it was inevitable. We made it through Walmart with no injuries, except to my wallet, and two lovely lilies. Joe loved the farm market, being quite selective in his choice of corn ears for dinner, much to the amusement of the other two ladies picking their ears. He also chose a lovely watermelon and some great pickling cukes. We did buy some of the most expensive strawberries ever, but it made him happy. He thought he was the king of the world when we had the corn and watermelon at dinner.
Minimal whining, virtually no begging, and still home before everyone else. Excellent day, even Kerouac would have to agree!
We cruised into Hornell, ready for a scrumptious lunch at Burger King, fine dining for the 7 year old set. Why wouldn't it be? Every meal comes with a toy that will fall apart or be left laying on the floor for mom to step on in the middle of the night, but must never be thrown away because it is PRECIOUS!! (gollum, gollum) I, of course, had no cash, so we walked down to the bank. Do you notice a pattern with the Colombo family and ready cash??? We withdrew money and headed back to the BK mecca. Bonus for Joe, he received not one, but TWO sets of chicken pieces shaped like crowns. Most Excellent!
Our meal finished we headed toward the address I had looked up for TW. I found the road, but nothing bearing any resemblance to an office was on it. We turned around and decided to stop at the police station and ask. Those wascally wabbits listed the address of the TOWER, not the office! The officer explained how to find the office on Main Street and with Joe's help, we pulled in right in front. The lovely lady inside explained to us that we could not return our box here, but we could call the Rochester office and have them pick it up. BONUS!
Back into the car with only one minor injury, Joe whacked his head into the side of the cable box on the way out the door. Of course the entry way was the size of my stand up shower, so it was inevitable. We made it through Walmart with no injuries, except to my wallet, and two lovely lilies. Joe loved the farm market, being quite selective in his choice of corn ears for dinner, much to the amusement of the other two ladies picking their ears. He also chose a lovely watermelon and some great pickling cukes. We did buy some of the most expensive strawberries ever, but it made him happy. He thought he was the king of the world when we had the corn and watermelon at dinner.
Minimal whining, virtually no begging, and still home before everyone else. Excellent day, even Kerouac would have to agree!
Flea Markets are all wet sometimes
Today we took a trip to Clarence with a side of Akron. The family piled into the Acadia and drove to Akron to my kid's favorite restaurant, the Candy Apple. Joe even has a shirt that proclaims him a "Candy Apple Kid". Mom and Dad met us there for a lovely breakfast. I had Eggs Benedict, one of my favorites that I can't make myself yet.
From there we made a quick stop at Mom and Dad's. Denny and I were taking advantage of the low babysitting fees - this time Dad wanted me to take home a box of my old dolls. I picked out a few and left the rest for him to recycle. :-) Then it was off to Kelly's Antique world and flea market.
If you live in the WNY area, you know that today was not prime marketing day for the fleas. It was spitting rain, windy, and dark. The bonus was we had excellent parking choices. The downside, not many sellers of wares. We did find some excellent Star Wars toys for the kids, including a Barbie sized Princess Leia doll. Denny had a chance to lust after the Hoth set with Luke, Han, and 2 troopers, and the Biggs and Wedge set. The one he would have come home with if I had more cash was the Luke doll complete with fighter pilot jumpsuit, helmet, etc. All the accessories every 50 year old man needs to reenact A New Hope, Star Wars IV. He did get a Boba Fett action figure to put on his Star Wars collection shelf. (Everytime I write a blog, I realize how strange my family really is...) We did visit the actual Antique Barn and found a lovely bar, complete with stained glass, wine rack and mirror. Anyone looking for a Christmas present, it is going for the low, low price of $11,000. :-)
We topped off our day with ice cream in Warsaw, at a drive through ice cream place. Of course we drove past the ice cream place, turned around to go back, pulled into the driveway, realized we had no cash, pulled back out, went down Main Street to the bank, and finally returned to reward ourselves with cones. Joe managed to dump his before we were completely out of Warsaw, resulting in an unscheduled stop to repair the cone and wipe him off.
Just another day at Camp Colombo!
From there we made a quick stop at Mom and Dad's. Denny and I were taking advantage of the low babysitting fees - this time Dad wanted me to take home a box of my old dolls. I picked out a few and left the rest for him to recycle. :-) Then it was off to Kelly's Antique world and flea market.
If you live in the WNY area, you know that today was not prime marketing day for the fleas. It was spitting rain, windy, and dark. The bonus was we had excellent parking choices. The downside, not many sellers of wares. We did find some excellent Star Wars toys for the kids, including a Barbie sized Princess Leia doll. Denny had a chance to lust after the Hoth set with Luke, Han, and 2 troopers, and the Biggs and Wedge set. The one he would have come home with if I had more cash was the Luke doll complete with fighter pilot jumpsuit, helmet, etc. All the accessories every 50 year old man needs to reenact A New Hope, Star Wars IV. He did get a Boba Fett action figure to put on his Star Wars collection shelf. (Everytime I write a blog, I realize how strange my family really is...) We did visit the actual Antique Barn and found a lovely bar, complete with stained glass, wine rack and mirror. Anyone looking for a Christmas present, it is going for the low, low price of $11,000. :-)
We topped off our day with ice cream in Warsaw, at a drive through ice cream place. Of course we drove past the ice cream place, turned around to go back, pulled into the driveway, realized we had no cash, pulled back out, went down Main Street to the bank, and finally returned to reward ourselves with cones. Joe managed to dump his before we were completely out of Warsaw, resulting in an unscheduled stop to repair the cone and wipe him off.
Just another day at Camp Colombo!
Creation
My friend Erin turned me on to this site in her quest for things to occupy her this summer. I have an obsession with the idea of creativity and expression, also monitoring personal sites on myspace and facebook. I recently joined my HS alumni site and have contemplated joining the one for the district I work in. I have three email addresses that I track and the internet is my friend! I love technology, being a social creature who has small children with a myriad of activities that limit my personal interaction time with other adults. I am the one who contacts people and then waits for them to respond. It's just what I do.
I love to read and am always up for a written adventure. I don't really read, I devour, with no ability to slow down if the story is good. For me to have 4-5 books sitting next to the bed with bookmarks in them, and another 3 sitting in the library bag is not uncommon. I read a wide breadth of literature, fiction and nonfiction. I am the one who doesn't like to give my books away either because I may want to read them again sometime. They are my friends and never let me down.
I am an avid gardener, but not the organized, structured, just so horticulturist. My gardens are like my life, all over the place, with plants moving from year to year according to how they reseed and where I decided to sprinkle some extra. So I am always excited and surprised when spring rolls around to see what will pop up where. And I am never disappointed. I would have made an excellent farmer's wife with my vegetable garden that is crammed full and my new shelves that will fill with home made canned goods through out the summer and fall. I have yet to attempt jams and jellies, but can pickles, tomatoes, salsa, and peaches, freeze sweet corn and zucchini, and enjoy it immensely.
Enjoy the ride!!!
I love to read and am always up for a written adventure. I don't really read, I devour, with no ability to slow down if the story is good. For me to have 4-5 books sitting next to the bed with bookmarks in them, and another 3 sitting in the library bag is not uncommon. I read a wide breadth of literature, fiction and nonfiction. I am the one who doesn't like to give my books away either because I may want to read them again sometime. They are my friends and never let me down.
I am an avid gardener, but not the organized, structured, just so horticulturist. My gardens are like my life, all over the place, with plants moving from year to year according to how they reseed and where I decided to sprinkle some extra. So I am always excited and surprised when spring rolls around to see what will pop up where. And I am never disappointed. I would have made an excellent farmer's wife with my vegetable garden that is crammed full and my new shelves that will fill with home made canned goods through out the summer and fall. I have yet to attempt jams and jellies, but can pickles, tomatoes, salsa, and peaches, freeze sweet corn and zucchini, and enjoy it immensely.
Enjoy the ride!!!