House of Books

Insomnia with a Purpose

2011-06-23T02:59:00.000-07:00

I'm taking a workshop this week for teachers of writing. It got me thinking about when I actually used to write a bit. So of course I had to get up at 5 a.m. or so and dig through a file drawer in a file cabinet in the attic in my robe and slippers to look at stuff I had written 15 years ago. Some is missing..maybe on an old computer in the basement..maybe not. Don't know if there are hard copies of everything. This stuff was from 15 years ago..I was in my...er..depressed, bohemian writers stage...reading about Dorothy Parker and the Algonquin Round Table, Anais Nin, Henry Miller..yuck, nope, not going back there, but probably did some of my best writing when in a state of narcissism..but not really narcissism, because I sure didn't love myself! Maybe it is time to take it up again, a different and better person..between grad school classes that is.

Spring Break, Oh Really?

2011-03-30T21:57:00.000-07:00

Spring break..what is that anyway? Not a break this time, but I really can't complain. I shouldn't have expected it to be any different. After all, it is NCAA time...it could be tornados, but instead it's wintery cold and even a few flakes of snow. I can't complain for another reason. I'm having to finish up a research proposal for my current class which involves a massive read of quantitative and qualitative research articles and my own proposal driven from the readings, which fortunately I don't have to act upon in this so-called survey class. I feel a little better having attended class tonight and receiving some answers to my many questions about how to proceed from here. I've done little but sit at the computer during this break. I always mentally work ahead, I stress over it, and usually discover as I did tonight that I'm actually a bit ahead of myself, thinking the rough draft was due for a peer critique this coming Monday, only to be reminded by my peer that it isn't due until a week from Monday. Ahh..relief. My so-called Spring break has thus turned out to be a gift of time I desperately needed. Now, to keep working plus get my school plans in order. I've got my eyes set on the trip to New Orleans I recently won. This will all be over then, making it that much more enjoyable.

Bad, Bad, Bad Blogger

2010-11-14T11:11:00.000-08:00

I seriously wrote last on July 4? It was a bad sign when I was reading my daughter's blog from Australia and I realized Oh yeah, I have a blog too and proceeded to link to it from there. So no one really wants to read blogs about not having blogged and why, but I guess I'll do it anyway and move on. It will be good therapy.

I've been a caregiver for my mother-in-law since last spring, along with my sister-in-law, my husband to the extent he can, and in time there was also a person we hired during the day. Kelly (the caregiver, not my daughter..we call her Nurse Kelly) was a lifesaver to me. Not only did she help care for my mother-in-law, but she helped care for me as well. I'm not going into everything about being a caregiver because it is very hard and it is very depressing, and I grieved in a lot of ways; at the same time it is a blessing to be privileged to care for someone that way (and only a caregiver would understand what I mean by all of that.) The feelings are illogical but they are real. About a month ago, my mother-in-law had another stroke (her third I believe in the past eight years or so) and she has been in rehab since then. She is at our house today as I write, sleeping in her recliner behind me. She is very weak. We can barely get her to take a step or try to move. She is also very noncommunicative. Her speech was impacted. I can't imagine her recovering to where she was before the stroke, and she needs to show some substantial improvement to be back here in her home. I of course have mixed feelings about that. She's 89. She deserves to do what she wants, and if that means she just wants to eat and sleep, then she should be allowed to do that, but I don't think it will happen here, because there is a lot of heavy duty care involved in getting her to move about. 'Nuff said. God is good and I know he will take care of her and me and everyone. It has been a tough time on me emotionally...I was going through my own level of depression from the loss of my freedom, and started seeing myself from the outside in..and I had lost my positive nature and my smiling face. I'm trying to get it back. I'm trying to prepare myself for the possibility she could come back too, and I'm determined to be ok with it. The whole process is one of evolution.

I'm also only take one class next semester.

Right now I cannot wait for Thanksgiving. Mary will be home from Australia and I miss her so much. I'm just holding my breath until she is safely back home and I get to hug her. Her term there has been amazing. I can't wait to have my family and good friends (who are a part of the family) Kathy and Joe, around me on that special day. I have so much to be thankful for, so I keep mentally smacking myself and reminding myself of that. How dare I be depressed about anything in my life.

What perked me up a lot was my good friend Debbie who visited from Chicago Friday night and Saturday. Together we had a glass of wine and talked about good times. Where do the years go? Her little boys and my little girls are almost all grown up; it seems just like yesterday they were running down the backyards, playing dress up, running through a sprinkler; and Ed and I might be found sitting in their hot tub on New Year's Eve with icicles hanging from the ends of our hair. Debbie and I spent some of Friday evening and most of Saturday (with Ed's help..thank you!) boxing up packages of supplies to be sent to her nephew in Afghanistan and my school's secretary's nephew (also serving in Afghanistan). As I said, I have NOTHING to be sad about when I think of what it is like for them in that desolate place and for their families left behind at home. I watched Mrs. Miniver on T.V. last night...surprisingly I've never watched it since I am a major old movie fan...and it brought home the same idea, only the story took place in England during WWII.

That's it for now. I'll try to catch up and get back in the swing. I wish I could have kept writing through the past few months. I know it would have helped me a lot; but I literally have spent every waking moment on the computer doing work for my classroom or work for my classes...and there are just some things you can't blog about anyway.

It Will Happen To You

2010-07-04T10:03:00.000-07:00

When we got home from church today, it went something like this:

Me: I need to run to the store for a couple of things I forgot.

Ed: When you go, would you pick up some hand soap refill? You know...it's on the hand soap aisle.

Me: REEEAALLLYYY? WOW! They keep the hand soap on a hand soap aisle? Gee, someone is really thinking.

Ed: (now sheepishly grinning) Yeah, isn't it amazing how they do that?

After the trip to the store and at lunch time, I prepared a sandwich for his mother and asked him if he wanted one. He said maybe half. I said ok, if his mother only wants half (which she usually does) he could have the other half. I made the sandwich, delivered her half, and told him his half was ready. He came to sit down and there was more conversation.

Ed: (lifting up the top piece of bread) What's on this sandwich?

Me: (perplexed..I mean look at it) Well, it has lettuce, tomato, mayo, cheese....(I stopped to look at him lifting the bread)...oh...I forgot the meat. Your mother just ate a cheese sandwich not a turkey and cheese sandwich (and the turkey was still sitting on the kitchen counter...I just had forgotten to put it on). She must not have noticed or I would have heard about it.

Ed: Uh, now you might be able to understand why I was explaining to you where you could find the hand soap.

Me: Ok, you got me...this time.

The Pain of Motherhood

2010-07-01T10:21:00.000-07:00

Ugh...it never really goes away..the pain of motherhood. And I'm not talking about giving birth. I'm talking about doing what you as a mother are supposed to do..let go. I appear to be good at it, but I don't know. I have to be brave, but I wonder how much of it is a facade.

There's a tightness in my belly, an ache around my heart, and a tear in my eye. My youngest, Mary, is leaving the country. I've been through this before, but not for such a long journey and for such a long time. She is going to Australia to study abroad for a term via DePaul University. She will be housed at a university outside of Melbourne. I know it will be wonderful. I know she will work hard, and I know she will have fun. Kelly (daughter number 2) studied abroad in Ireland...I went through it then.

I really should be able to get used to this. The first occasion was dropping the first born (which is always the hardest because it is freshest for you as a parent) (at only eighteen years old!) in New York City. But somehow, it never gets any easier.

So whenever I hear a young mother talking about labor (as I also did), I just smile, nod, and think to myself....just you wait.

Addiction

2010-06-30T05:45:00.000-07:00

I can picture myself at the meeting. It would go something like this.

Me: Hi, I'm Lisa and I'm a....bookaholic.

Everyone: Hi Lisa.

It's true. As with most addictions I choose to ignore it, just hope it will go away and then the desire hits me again; like yesterday when I was driving through a county seat, a small town of an adjacent county...you know...the kind with a court house square, charming, to have lunch with a friend. It was only a small storefront, but they had one of those easel type sidewalk signs, plus the windows were painted advertising a sale...20% off all children's. That did it.

Yes, I did it. I bought books. At least I only spent around $6.00, and they weren't even children's, and they were paperbacks, and they weren't antiquarian (love that word) or rare.

No. 1: 84 Charring Cross Road (didn't even know it was a book and didn't know it was true)...wonderful. The movie is great. See it if you haven't. I happened upon it because I love Anthony Hopkins, and of course Ann Bancroft is fabulous......and OF COURSE.....it's a sort of love story between a writer and someone who.....I won't tell you....just see it and you'll understand why. I can't say more. The thought of it is making me have the urge again.

No. 2: Boy. This one is a memoir written by Roald Dahl.

I'm worried. Not only does this addiction continue, but lately I've been buying books about books and books about writing books, and books about bookstores and books about libraries.

As I wrote my check, I asked the owner if he wanted my driver's license. His reply was "No thanks, I already have one." Then he asked me if I had seen the movie (84 Charring Cross Road) and purged all sorts of information about it; followed by more information about Roald Dahl which was that he died not long ago (I knew that) and that he had been married (at least at one time) to the actress Patricia Neal (I didn't know that). In my mind I gasped..."He's an addict too. And he WORKS here...how can he manage?" At one time while browsing I realized I didn't have cash, only a credit/debit card or a checkbook, so I asked what they took, and all he said was "We'll do just about anything to sell a book." and left it at that. I didn't know exactly what that meant...would he trade for my watch, some earrings, some velamints?

Just for today........

Summer

2010-06-29T07:25:00.000-07:00

Summer didn't officially begin until June 21 so I'm looking at my summer that way. From a teacher perspective, I guess we are close to half way through.

It hasn't felt like summer because of the chaos around me..which I actually am learning to appreciate. It takes my mind off of other things. Here is how it has gone.

1. We traveled to NJ the weekend after school let out to attend a family wedding.
2. Daughter No. 2 stayed behind in NYC with Daughter No. 1 to drive back with her. She moved home and will be teaching in Indianapolis. After they returned, a truck arrived a couple of days later and Daughter No. 1's stuff was unloaded into one of our three garage bays. Another of the three garage bays was already full of my mother-in-law's furnishings. So currently, we can only actually park in one spot.
3. Daughter No. 4 was at the wedding, but had to fly back to Chicago where she goes to school. Daughter No. 1, after arriving home on Wednesday, left on Friday to pick up Daughter No. 4, with a van load of HER stuff, which also was unloaded into the garage.
4. Daughter No. 2, who had recently closed on the purchase of a home, went that same weekend and picked up a UHaul and drove it into our driveway to take some of her grandmother's furnishings and Daughter No. 1's furnishings to use in her new home.
5. Daughter No. 1 began induction at Marian University the following week, repacked what she needed, and drove to Chicago for Teach for America training and to teach summer school in Chicago.
6. Daughter No. 2 is still organizing, painting, and cleaning at her new home, and I haven't had a chance to help her except for one day. I'm hoping to get back this week and next.
7. Daughter No 4. is getting ready to leave for Australia on Thursday, so this week has consisted of me helping her buy some things she needs in the way of clothing, make sure her communication devices are ready and planned, that financially she is set, etc.
8. Oh, Daughter No. 3 is around, but is working and spending quite a bit of time with her boyfriend; but her life is the most calm and normal at the moment. She is taking a class for the 2nd summer session. She lives at home...most of the time.
9. Oh, did I mention there is sort of a Daughter No. 5? This is a friend of Daughter No. 3 who needed a place to live until she gets married next spring. We offered. She was living with her sister, but her sister's husband is being relocated. Don't ask me about her parents. I don't really know the situation, but apparently they don't do a lot to support her financially or otherwise. I have to admire this young woman, as she works full time, goes to school, and has been on her own for awhile. When the idea came up for her to live here, I thought why not? What's another person in this house? I just told her as long as she lives here, she needs to let me know if she isn't going to be home (same rule of thumb for my other daughters) so I won't worry about her.
10. As soon as Daughter No. 1 finishes her summer in Chicago she will be hired and working for a school in Indianapolis teaching secondary English. She plans on living at home until she decides what to do. I don't think it will take long for her to decide she can't function here, and I don't blame her, so she'll probably find a place of her own. TFA is a two-year commitment, so I am relishing the idea that she will be nearby for the first time in several years.
11. My mother-in-law lives here and has a caregiver who comes daily until at least 3:30 or so (sometimes longer when available), but then in the evening I need to be here, or my sister-in-law comes over.
12. I'm trying to have a garage sale in a couple of weeks to empty the house of all the stuff it has accumulated, or at least as much as I can gather. We've only lived here five and a half years but somehow the house has filled up. I still have a lot of kid stuff in the attic although we did dispose of a lot of things before we moved here. There is some kid stuff I will hang onto for grandchildren one day (I can hope), like the little rocking chairs they used, etc.
13. I am presenting in the fall at an education conference and need to start on that.
14. I am changing my curriculum and need to do a little planning on that.
15. I attended a three day workshop on reading comprehension.
16. Ed and I were to travel to Michigan with some older friends who don't travel well alone. Our friend is in the hospital and will not be able to go. We've been worrying about him. Our friend had brain surgery and is going to be in rehab once he gets out of the hospital to get his strength back. Ed and I changed the reservation to a one bedroom condo (fortunately there was ONE available) and are still planning on traveling to upper Michigan in a couple of weeks). I'm VERY sorry they won't be able to make it with us, but also looking forward to getting away. We both need it. We've never been to Charlevoix and hear the area is beautiful. Ed's sister will be flying in from Taos, New Mexico, to spend the week with her mother here.
17. I've been trying to get all my dentist/doctor appointments done over the summer as well...mine and some of the daughters.
18. Oh, and in the midst of all this, Daughter No. 1 had a graduation party (she did most of the work and cooking...it was delicious..she's a great cook) on a Saturday; also Daughter No. 4 had an "I'm going to Australia and won't see you for awhile" party (for which "I" did most of the preparation...which means I bought everything to avoid cooking except for throwing burgers (frozen patties) and hot dogs on the grill. That happened the following Friday. And I also had a gathering on a Sunday to celebrate Father's day, my father's birthday, a brother's birthday, a brother-in-law's birthday all at once.

In a nutshell (I know that's much more than a nutshell) that is what my summer has been like so far. I haven't read a single summer read yet, but I'm working on it. I usually read at least 10 novels.

I don't know what all this sounds like to someone who might be reading it, but it is not a vehicle for whining or complaining. I actually thrive in this atmosphere...well, as long as I can see the end in sight. I find I do much better caring for my mother-in-law with chaos around me. I had four children. I'm used to chaos. Don't let anyone tell you it goes away once they graduate from high school, or even college.

Right now I'm going to go have lunch with a good friend at her house and look at her beautiful garden. That's a start, an attempt at actually doing something that feels like summer.

Returning

2010-06-29T07:19:00.000-07:00

I'm going to make an attempt to return to my writing. I'm a teacher on summer break, but it hasn't felt much like summer break. My husband and I continue to care for his mother. We've adjusted. That doesn't mean I haven't had, and won't continue to have on occasion, a melt down. No more whining about that, however.

Actually I'm back because a friend who is much more tech saavy than I hooked me up with google reader so I could attempt to organize the blogs and other websites I frequent (which actually I haven't frequented much at all lately). So it prompted me to actually look to see when I last wrote. When I first saw March, I was thinking it had been a whole year. It hasn't. Only around three months; that isn't as bad as I thought. It "feels" like a year though.

I'll see what I can do here again.

Update

2010-03-24T21:42:00.001-07:00

My, that last sounded firm didn't it? I'm stopping this one...now. I honestly don't even remember writing it. That's how my life has been lately. February doesn't seem so long ago, although March is about over.

I guess I'll try to keep this up, but maybe it will evolve into being a little more focused, or at least more regular. Life has gotten in the way. One of the rules is not to overdo it with talking about family, but let's just say this is a very hard time of life at the moment.

I just got a little freedom meaning even my youngest child is now in college, and suddenly I am hit with helping to care for an aging parent, and not my own, but my husband's, which of course is different. I'm assured that it won't impact my life, but that isn't realistic. I can't really go into it all in a blog, and I won't...I'll save that for my prayers, which I'm doing a lot of these days.

Just know...it is very, very difficult.

Following the Rules

2010-02-07T13:30:00.001-08:00

Having begun as someone completely unfamiliar with blogging, and really just wanting to make myself write a little, I am realizing that I have consistently broken the rules of blogging. My name is too complicated and difficult to remember and spell. I can't do anything about that now unless it is possible to close this one out and direct followers (few though they are) to another.

Second, my posts are way too long, so I'm stopping this one....now.

Winter Beauty

2010-02-06T06:07:00.001-08:00

And so it came...the one thing I wanted before winter is truly over. I wanted that one winter storm that would make the trees coated and sparkly, would be beautiful, and would give me excuses to slow down and just be at home.

I'll maybe come back and add some pictures, but right now my computer wants to close Internet Explorer every time I try to link to something...like to insert a picture. It says it is trying to protect my computer. Huh? From itself?

Anyway, I didn't get a snow day from this since it didn't start falling after midnight as predicted. It really didn't start until the afternoon. It was pretty heavy during our all-school volleyball game and then it was time to come home. Fortunately, I live very close to school; even so it was very slick. So, we didn't get a snow day out of it, but a workshop I was to attend Saturday morning was cancelled, postponed actually.

Superbowl is Sunday and as I write from Indianapolis, the Archbishop of the Diocese declared Monday a day off for Catholic Schools. We will have to make it up, but at least it is an extra day. I'm wondering about Tuesday. The snow on the ground isn't going anywhere as it is not supposed to warm up, and more snow is predicted for Monday.

Plus, the groundhog (at least the one who is supposed to be the most reliable...Punxtawhateverhisnameis) says six more weeks of winter. I wouldn't be surprised since Indiana is notorious for having either blizzards or twisters during the NCAA championships in March, BUT

It's ok..I'm ready for spring soon if anyone is listening to me.

Winter Blahs

2010-01-29T08:59:00.000-08:00

I've been absent. Hibernating I guess. After claiming..actually proudly announcing..that I never get sick, it has hit. Sinus infection. I made it to school on Thursday morning only long enough to sit through Mass with my first graders. It was their first one. There was no way I would have missed that. Two of my students who were involved were also ill. I was prepared for one so had another student take her reading (thankfully the student taking her part has about an 8th grade reading ability! She read not only her own part, but the absent student's part). The other absent student was unexpected, but he was only carrying the lectionary, so that one was pretty easy to substitute.

So I'm home sick on Friday, on meds, and will be better on Monday. While I'm feeling lousy, have no energy, no voice, and a sort throat, I thought I'd catch up on reading the blogs I follow and write just a little.

Nothing exciting is happening around here other than I'm waiting for Captain to sneak somewhere and poop in the house since all he wanted to do in the yard this morning was chase back and forth along the tree line looking for a squirrel. Oh, and Erin has no classes today, so she is home with me. She is very excited that she made a fried egg without breaking the yolk.

Christmas Over??? NOT!

2009-12-28T07:40:00.000-08:00

In my book, Christmas is not over until around Epiphany. Part of that is because I'm Catholic and part of it is because I refuse to buy into the way things are done in the popular culture.

Think about it. Christmas displays start going up around Halloween, and it seems much of the world dismantles Christmas trees, takes down decorations, and moves on as soon as December 25 is over. What a shame, when in reality the timing should be in reverse.

I find the best days of Christmas are those which follow December 25. Part of that is because I am a teacher and don't return to work until early January. I believe the rest of the world should take the week off as well. In leading up to the day, it is so stressful and busy and the pressure is on (mostly on women) to make everything perfect. At least in my house, Christmas simply wouldn't happen without me. It's a good thing Ed has four daughters too. If I'm ever unable to accomplish Christmas they no doubt would take charge.

While gift shopping and grocery shopping, I have to feel a bit sorry for those who have to work to make gift shopping and grocery shopping possible for me...cashiers, clerks, truck drivers making deliveries, etc. We all take it for granted. I ran to the grocery store for a few last minute things on Christmas Eve and told the young man who was cashier I hoped he didn't have to work all day...he said he did; at least he would have Christmas Day off.

I can't imagine having to go back to work a day or two after Christmas, not with the fatigue I always experience a couple of days after. It's a wonderful sort of fatigue...sitting in a chair reading, drifting off, somewhere between a deep sleep and a semi-wakefulness...a sort of drugged state of being.

I'm gearing up again though, as we are hosting Ed's family party this year. It will be fun. We are older. With the exception of two, the cousins are at least high school/college aged, so we parents aren't so exhausted. We will get to enjoy each other's company, eat and drink hearty, and play games. My meal will be simple and one which we can graze on throughout the day. I'm making Ed's mother's fabulous Italian Beef, which consists of slowly cooked roasts, sliced thin, and marinated in a mixture of broth, green peppers, oregano, and more (I'll post the recipe later). From that we'll make sandwiches au jus on hard rolls. That plus sides and desserts will make a meal.

We don't do a lot of gifts. The cousins still exchange through college, or opt in as they wish, through a drawing, but that's it. The focus is food, fun, and games. So, I'm gearing up a little and will do some baking this week, something I didn't get to enjoy as much the week before Christmas. For me, Christmas isn't over and I'm happy about that.

O Christmas Tree(s)

2009-11-24T19:15:00.000-08:00

Ed and I have not yet succumbed to purchasing an artificial Christmas tree. I know that day may come. We are still holding out and purchasing a fresh tree already cut, or occasionally, selecting one from a tree farm. We have a lot of Christmas tree stories in our family.

There was a time that Ed and I attended an annual Christmas party hosted by one of his clients. Somehow on the way to these parties we would talk about stories to share and what evolved were stories surrounding Christmas trees. It became a tradition for Ed to share a Christmas tree story at this holiday party.

One such story was the year his father purchased an enormous tree, too large to stand up on its own. It had to be wired to something to stand up (we've had to do this very thing ourselves on a couple of occasions). In any event, what happened that year was that his older sister brought her boyfriend's parents over to meet her parents. The story goes that when they arrived the tree came loose and fell on his mother which was embarrassing and hilarious.

A tree story we were just remembering this evening was around 15 years ago. Ed had a client whose parents had sold their home and land. At one time someone had planned to raise Christmas trees. Apparently the trees were planted but had not been kept up, so there was a number of acres of trees that had not been trimmed but had been allowed to grow wild. Since the land was going to be used for commercial purposes and the trees would be lost in the development, we were invited to come and pick a tree. Being a younger single-income household with four children, we took advantage of the offer.

Off we went all bundled up to traipse all over trying to find THE perfect Christmas tree when none of them were even close to perfect. We also didn't do a very good job of judging the size we should get because (since again the tree was going to be free) we found the largest tree we could find (picture the Clark Griswold tree from National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation). We could barely get it in the house and then we could barely walk into the living room where we positioned it.

While searching for our tree the girls came across the carcass of a dead deer..just an anecdote to add to that year's life experiences. While we were searching for our tree, and as is typical of a family searching for THE tree, all the girls found their own favorites and were fussing a bit over which to take home, when Ed and I suddenly realized we could take five trees if we wanted, and well, that is exactly what we did.

Each of the girls had their own tree. Since we didn't have stands for five trees, we hammered boards across the bottoms of the smaller ones and since they wouldn't be getting a source of water, didn't allow the girls to put electric lights on them. They had to make paper chains, etc. to decorate their trees, but yes, they each had a tree of their own in their bedrooms.

A great memory.

Am I Being Tested?

2009-11-19T14:01:00.000-08:00

I have had a couple of rough days. They happen infrequently, thankfully. Heh! That's it...a number of my family and friends are posting on Face book what they are thankful for, so maybe today's should read I'm thankful that days like the last two don't happen all that often.

I got snapped at about a little thing (at least it was to me) that was an error of omission on my part and unintentional (those are the most hurtful kinds of snaps to receive), one daughter was in an accident (her fault) and I fear the mother of the other driver is going to be one of those who has her son go around wearing a neck brace. I quite by "accident" found out from the officer at the scene that when I left the scene, the mother of the young man (who was positively a gentleman, even though his mother is apparently not a lady) followed him around trying to convince him he was hurt.

I talked to another daughter at around midnight last night, sobbing because of her nasty roommate who has absolutely no respect for the fact that my daughter also lives in the dorm room, bringing people in at all hours, out drinking, never brushing her teeth or taking showers, making the room smell because she smokes and is dirty...you get the picture?

Today I had to rush in and have some of my mid-quarter Progress Reports rerun because I had mistakenly misread or something...the cutoff date for having grades entered into our program and therefore had to adjust some grades. I was in the process of doing that yesterday when my daughter called me to come to the scene of the accident.

I have been quite a bit behind in some things at school. It happens. I'm used to that; but today I fell even further behind when our priest came to visit. Now don't get me wrong; I am thrilled our new priest wants to be involved in the school, but someone needs to explain the situation to him. We have a schedule, we have lessons to teach; time is always the enemy to a teacher. It is THE most challenging thing when it comes to teaching...time management. Even five minutes makes a huge difference to a teacher. Minutes are EXTREMELY VALUABLE in a classroom. He visited my classroom for about 45 minutes or so; he wanted to answer questions from my students. Do you know the kinds of questions first graders come up with?

They are frequently:

1. Not questions at all, but stories or statements (like my mom's cousin's birthday is on Thanksgiving).

2. Questions they couldn't understand even if the priest could answer them himself (like when was the universe created...and being a former engineer, our priest actually tried to answer all the questions like that, in length...like taking five minutes to ten minutes to answer...and by the time he finished he had long lost that child's attention).

3. Repetitive...and even so our priest didn't point out that they were repetitive but answered them again...and at the same length.

4. Embarassing....(I got REALLY lucky this time)

This didn't just happen to me. I think it happened to at least three other teachers. It was exhausting. Oh, also...we had our little letter cards out spread all over the tables getting ready to practice some spelling and by the time he left the kids had theirs all mixed up with their neighbors.

While he was there, one little girl kept putting her foot up on her chair and you could see her underwear, a little boy kept doing what boys (and men) do, and adjusting himself...making me think he had to desperately go to the restroom, some of them became totally uninterested and pulled out a book to read, etc., etc.

And OF COURSE...I didn't know what to do...to say...do I stop him, do I tell him we are out of time, do I tell him they have to probably go to the bathroom, do I cut him off? I mean after our principal, he is sort of the big boss. Will she say anything to him? I think he is a good guy. I just don't think he understands...and.....again...he is a former engineer...they sort of think like lawyers and that is something I know about.

Well, Maybe Not

2009-11-18T14:45:00.001-08:00

Did I not write yesterday that my dogs are my new children? I don't think I should have said that.

My dogs don't wreck cars.

I Confess: My Dogs Are My New Children

2009-11-17T17:27:00.001-08:00

It occurred to me tonight how much my dogs have become my children. I had an appointment to get both of them groomed. I'd do it myself but both of these dogs require professional grooming really...a Goldendoodle who is fairly curly and mats easily, and a Mini-Schnauzer who likewise needs a specific kind of cut to not look weird and also can get matted...of course it is nice to have the hair pulled out of the ears so they won't get infections, get their claws trimmed, etc.

To make a long story short, I messed around at the book store, ran some errands, ate dinner and read by myself in a nice quiet booth and returned to the groomers around the time they thought the dogs would be done.

As I pulled into a parking spot right in front of the grooming place, I could see Roxie standing on the table through the big picture window. She sort of looked like she was looking out to see who was out there as I pulled in, turned off my lights and engine. Right away I said to myself there is no way I'm going in there. If she sees me she'll start having a fit. It reminded me of preschool.

Just a small thing, I know; but it's a fact. There are other things as well...loving it when they come and greet me when I get home, getting excited over a treat, doing little tricks..doing what I want in order to get a treat...yeah...they are just like kids.

They've recently gotten into the habit of sneaking into bed with me too when I'm asleep. Well, sometimes I'm aware. I don't sleep that soundly; but there have been times when I've been completely unaware too. They must be very careful getting on the bed because I honestly don't wake up if they jump up. The other morning I opened my eyes to find Captain with his head on the pillow...one more good reason to keep them groomed.

Holiday Yard Decorations

2009-11-16T15:05:00.000-08:00

Ok..so after you read this, if you are mad at me, please don't be...but then I guess if I am going to blog, I have to not worry so much about that.

For some reason I really dislike the recently popular (by recently I mean the past few years) yard decorations that consist of a blown up figure...a football player, a giant Santa, a Thanksgiving turkey, etc. I don't know why, but they strike me as cheap imitations of real holiday decorating...the kind that requires dad to climb a ladder and hang lights (hopefully not staple holes in their house the way Chevy Chase did in Christmas Vacation, one of my favorite holiday comedy movies).

I'm not such a scrooge that I think they should be outlawed or something. If I had young children now, I'd probably put one in my yard too. They are in my neighborhood where there are small children or day cares. I'm not going to go by and shoot a bebe gun at them or anything.

I also worry about the environment. Are they recyclable when they no longer work? Or are there landfills out there full of deflated Santas, Frosty the Snowmen, turkeys, Halloween pumpkins, and numerous pro football team players or mascots?

I think it comes from having been born in the 50's and coming of age in the 60's. It's about making memories. One of the best holiday memories I have is my dad hanging lights on the frame of our house and on the bushes. You know, come to think of it we did have these stand up plastic (but hard plastic not the blow ups) lanterns that would light up when you plugged them in.

Oh never mind..

A Book Lost, and Found

2009-11-13T17:26:00.000-08:00

As an elementary school student I recall vaguely a field trip to The Indianapolis Children's Museum. I don't remember the details clearly, but have an image of the space I was in, including the huge model of a dinosaur. At the time I would have visited, the museum would not have been what it is today at all. My visit would have taken place at the same site, but at that time the museum would have been housed in the St. Clair Parry mansion. There are some books around that travel the history of the museum and it is pretty fascinating in that it really began with one woman's vision. She was Mary Stewart Carey, a civic and social leader who had the vision and inspired the founding of the museum in 1925. It was originally housed in an old carriage house on the near north side, in the Garfield Park shelter house, and then in the actual home of Mary Stewart Carey from 1927 to 1946. After that it moved to the site where it is now located, but was housed in the St. Clair Parry mansion, eventually demolished and replaced by the current building, which has also been expanded and improved.

Some time later in my elementary school, fourth grade to be specific, my teacher (Mrs. Mary McCarty) gave me a book as a prize. Inside she wrote a dedication to me as the winner of the good citizenship award. That meant so much to me. She was a pretty strict, conservative teacher and it was my favorite grade. One of the things that stands out in my memory is the unit of study we did on Switzerland. We had a celebration and had hot chocolate, tasted chocolate from Switzerland, etc. It was much like what today would be called a project based or virtual learning experience; given that this would have been in the mid 60's, she was a teacher ahead of her time no doubt.

You may be wondering how the two paragraphs above are related. I'll continue. As it happens, I kept the book into my college years. I finished school, got married, started my family, and went back to school to earn an education degree. I ended up working part time at the Children's Museum coordinating birthday parties in the computer lab on weekends. One weekend I went to the gift shop and picked up a history of the children's museum. As I read it I learned about a woman, Grace Golden, who directed the museum from 1942 to 1964. It mentioned a children's book she had written, Seven Dancing Dolls. It was then it hit me that this was the book my fourth grade teacher awarded to me and that it should be around somewhere. It was no doubt out of print, and I'd like to be sure I kept it as a keepsake and collectible. (My passion for children's books was already there, even before I was actually teaching...thanks to my mother.) To be sure I went to Central Library and it was listed as being in the rare book room. I was allowed to go to that room to see it (it was a noncirculating book), but the librarian discovered that it was missing. That's a shame. I don't know if they ever found it.

I asked my mom to look around and she said I could come over and check the boxes in the attic. I never found it. Then I thought perhaps it had gotten mixed up with a former roommate's possessions and contacted her. She couldn't recall it either. Whatever happened to it, it disappeared. I did start looking for another copy though and eventually ran onto one from a rare book seller somewhere. I didn't pay too much, probably no more than $20 but it was worth it to me. The copy I have, the one you see above, is in excellent shape. It has the dust jacket intact and is library quality but with no stamping or marks anywhere. Regretfully, it isn't the one my teacher inscribed to me, but it still holds the memory for me.

Grace Golden wrote the book as a result of a year she spent in Poland studying museums. Her story takes place in Poland when it was divided. It is about a little princess who lived in a palace. Whenever her father would travel, he would bring this princess a present. One present was a set of tiny dolls. When the dolls were placed on a piano and the piano was played, the vibration would make the dolls dance. The princess gave all the dolls names, and one of them was named for Frederic Chopin after visiting and playing the piano for the princess and her family. When he left, one of the dolls accidentally fell into his pocket. Eventually he returned the doll to her along with some special music he wrote for her...her very own waltz called "The Waltz of the Seven Dancing Dolls." It is really a sweet story; perhaps not a classic or famous or well known, but it holds such memories and meaning for me and it has some historical significance, at least locally.

So this is just a little story of an experience with a book, and how it wove itself in and out of my life, and back in again; how I lost it and found it again (albeit not the original), and in doing so reconnected with a very important memory in my life.

Reading Tastes

2009-11-10T20:02:00.000-08:00

I guess you could call me eclectic when it comes to what I read. First, I don't have as much time to read during the school year as I do during the summer, but I do make sure I am reading something all the time.

I read a wide variety of things. Whether this is normal or not, I don't know. First of all, I read a lot of picture books. I collect picture books, old and new, and hope one day to have those to share with grandchildren or just to pull out and enjoy myself. I know some of the books I have held onto meant a lot to my girls when they were growing up. It's funny how a book, like music, can send a person zooming back to a certain time, place or event...association.

I also read, and enjoy doing so, professional books. They just keep publishing them. I wish they would stop, but that wouldn't be good. There is always something new to learn as a teacher. I particularly have a passion for professional books about literacy...anything reading and writing. I have a number I have purchased but haven't yet read. Like fiction, I just can't keep up.

When reading as an adult, I think I have rather quirky tastes. For one thing, I don't mind reading stories that my husband would call "depressing" meaning that they have sad parts. Sometimes they don't even end happily. I like these types of reads because I believe they have things to teach me. For instance, I loved reading Angela's Ashes and Teacher Man. I love stories about people who were born into adverse circumstances and yet made it, likely because of those very circumstances which made them strong.

Every once in awhile I discover a particular author and stick with him or her. When on a trip during my 25th wedding anniversary, the condo we rented had a few novels of Joyce Carol Oates sitting around. I started in on one of those which led me to another and another. I still have a lot of hers I could pick up. She is extremely prolific, and I have to say when I saw a picture of her on the flap of one of her novels, she looked exhausted. No wonder. If anyone was to ask me what her novels are about, I really wouldn't know how to answer. So I guess I like fiction that doesn't necessarily fall into a particular category like romance (blech) or mystery.

The other day my daughter posted a comment on Facebook that she had met Colum McCann and that was very strange because I just bought Let The Great World Spin. I started it a few weeks ago and then put it down for lack of time. What I read did intrigue me and my daughter's comment reminded me to pick it up again. On the surface it is about a tightrope walker who walked between the twin towers in 1974. It's about a lot more than that of course. I don't always read off the New York Times or any bestseller list. In fact I prefer not to do that. I've never read Dan Brown.

I like memoir and biography. Even though I said I don't usually read the latest fad, I did recently buy a few Jodi Picoult books because they were on that table with the signage buy two get one free. I read her first but haven't read another. Everyone is reading them, but not me. I suppose I'll get around to them but since they are a bit of a fad I'm not all that interested. I'm not trying to be a literary snob; it's just how I feel. I'd never judge anyone for what they are reading.

On occasion I don't want to read what is a great piece of literature. My sister and I took a trip a year ago to Amish country in northern Indiana. It was a quiet, peaceful, and fun getaway. I picked up a trilogy by a not well known and not famous author who writes simple stories about the Amish life. They are sort of Amish romances I guess, and I actually have enjoyed those, although I certainly won't continue to read that author. There was something about them that made me appreciate the simple things and they were very relaxing to read. They made me want to be "plain."

I also like books about animals, most recently the one about the library cat and the one about Marley. We all know how those are going to end, but I read them anyway. Of course as a child there was My Friend Flicka, Black Beauty and National Velvet.

I grew up going to the library almost weekly and bringing home much more than I could ever read. Now I do that when I go to a bookstore, an expensive habit but one I don't feel guilty about. I must admit I don't visit the library the way I used to. Libraries aren't the same anyway. I like the old ones, with hardwood floors and rooms that echo with your footsteps, and drawers you could pull out and sit on a table to search through cards for books; I like it when librarians stamp the back of your book with the return date, etc. I'm just old fashioned that way; I miss those things. I do miss smelling books. I use to love the smell of library books. Am I weird? The main reason I don't go often is that I want to see what is newly published and they aren't always available at the library. At the bookstore I can look in the sections that show recently published fiction and nonfiction, and I can see what employees recommend. I guess the library has tried to do some of that.

There is only one thing I haven't done yet, and it is something I would REALLY like to do...be invited to, or start, a book/reading club.

P.S. I collect. I have some out of print children's books. I have a volume of letters Louisa Mae Alcott and her father wrote back and forth (very rare I think), old school books, my own primers, and even some of the Little Golden Books and Elf books with which I associate some childhood memories. When I look at one of my old Little Golden Books about a drum majoriette, I can feel myself sitting on my mother's lap and I can hear her voice reading to me.

P.P.S. Some of my favorite books: Alice in Wonderland (makes me really relate to how much kids loved Harry Potter...fantasy, Little Women, Carolyn Haywood Betsy books, The Bounty Trilogy (if THAT isn't quirky for a teen to love, then what is...but I did..still do...love the story of The Bounty), Rebecca (gothic romance is just fine), Forever Amber, the Clan of the Cave Bear series, oh dear I'd better stop now.

Did I mention I love to buy interesting looking cookbooks, even though I'm not much of a cook? I'd love to hear about anyone else's reading life and interest in starting a reading group.

Random Weird Websites

2009-11-09T20:33:00.000-08:00

I can't imagine what you are thinking. Did you ever just type in something in your google or other search engine box and see what you come up with? Only someone with too much time on her hands, or in my case someone who is avoiding being productive, would do such a thing.

Over the summer while on vacation, my silly daughter Kelly showed me some really hilarious websites that had some really hilarious products. I found one myself recently called Strange New Products. Yes, I found there what you see above, the Hillary Clinton Toilet Bowl Brush. Ok, I guess if you are a Republican this would be funny. Don't worry if you are a Democrat. They have a George W. Bush...er brush..as well. There are some other items of bathroomesque humor at the site.

What else? How about paying $24.95 to not have to go to church or donate or offer your time, talent, and treasure in order to purchase up front a Reserve a Spot in Heaven Kit. No kidding...who buys this stuff? They even offer a refund if heaven renegs on your reservation. I wonder how you collect and what difference it would make anyway.

It's Not Happenin'....

2009-11-08T05:09:00.000-08:00

I often told myself when my girls were little that one day I'd have an organized home. It helped that we actually had to go through the process of leaving one home and moving into another. We built almost five years ago. When we went through that process we got rid of so much STUFF. Well, it has happened again...the accumulation of stuff over time. I don't get it...well, I guess in reality I should.

I may not have young children any longer, BUT I do have the stuff that comes from having daughters move into college, out of college, into dorms, out into apartments; plus I have a mother-in-law who moved into assisted living so we have a lot of her stuff here too.

One of the things I wanted was an attic space. I love our attic space. It is the kind of attic you can imagine loving as a kid. I am hoping that one day my grandchildren can go up there and dig through boxes and find what they think is cool stuff. Right now it does have some cool stuff, but it also has some not-so-cool stuff...in other words...junk.

I thought that when my kids grew up I'd be better at staying on top of clutter. Maybe I am a little better, but since I actually had a weekend of no commitments, I decided to get to some of the projects I set aside. I've started attacking some already junky drawers and such. How does that happen...even though I don't have any little ones any longer?

Big announcement: I have to face the fact that it is ME...not my daughters...and ED (who is much more of a keeper than I am). I managed to attack the drawer in my bathroom vanity where I keep make up and jewelry and such. Since it took me quite awhile to get that done and figure out what to do with the stuff I didn't need (much of it got thrown away), it is seriously clear that it will take weeks and weeks of having no commitments to get through it all.

It's probably not happenin'....by the time I get through them all, the first ones will be full again.

Hmmm...what I really should have done? Gotten rid of a bunch of Ed's junk since he is out of town. He'd never have noticed.

While I want my attic to maintain it's "cool appeal" for future use, it does definitely need some cleaning out, trips to donation centers, and organization. Maybe I'll take a before picture of it and get it posted...who knows whether the after picture will ever get posted in my life time.

It's not happenin'...at least not in the near future.

Halloween '09

2009-11-04T14:24:00.000-08:00

He'll kill me. Well, he doesn't blog and he doesn't read blogs, unless I put it in front of his face and say "Read this" and then only when he gets around to it. That said, here we are in our Halloween costumes, which we haven't done in years. We are fire and ice. I guess you can probably figure out which is which. He started it all.

On Friday night he set his agenda and expected Erin and me to follow it. As he was leaving to go and work at the local Halloween haunted hayride, he mentioned that Erin and I should make zombies for the front porch. He did bring in some old jeans and shirts of his, and left it to us. We both stood looking at each other, a little frustrated. Our expressions said it all. Here he goes again...giving us a job to do and then removing himself from having to be involved. Not that we had to do it (and I mostly did it myself), I started stuffing the clothes to make bodies.

When he finally returned, he had brought some masks from the hayride which weren't being used, and we added those for the heads. He even got an old stuffed bear out of the attic and put a mask on it. We ended up with two male zombies, a female zombie which sort of resembled Mrs. Bates from Psycho, and a zombie faced stuffed bear. So that started it all.

The next morning when I stopped at Wal-Green for a couple of things and noticed a ton of Halloween stuff on sale. I ended up buying a spider, a spider web, two large plastic images of skeletons you could hang in the windows, and some tombstones for the yard. I also started looking at the hair sprays and things. I hadn't decided to dress up, but got a little inspired. Ed actually went out on his own later and found the red stuff to be the opposite of me. If we were going to be at home alone I guess we might not have done so much, but we had two couples over for a light dinner and to help pass out treats. I was also expecting some of my students as well.

It turned out to be a lot of fun. I guess we are now reverting back to childhood..kind of scary. Scarier than the yard and porch decorations we are. The fun thing is that it reminds me of when we were first dating. We went to a number of Halloween parties over the year. For our first I was a basket of dirty laundry. We cut holes in the bottom of a laundry basket so I could step inside, I stuffed the basket with clothes, laundry soap, etc. He went as Mr. Clean, all in white, and wore a skull cap. For another party we were The Blues Brothers.

One year a friend had a Victor, Victoria party. That's definitely another post! Here are some more pics.

Copycat

2009-11-04T13:45:00.000-08:00

Ok, I'm going to be a copycat...or try. I just read my daughter's blog, which is much more interesting and hip and young than mine; also a friend mentioned to me yesterday that she noticed I hadn't posted much lately. It's twoooo. Not only haven't I posted, I haven't read those I follow either. I'm going to try to change that.

As I mentioned, I just read my daughter's blog, Morgendorf, and she mentions it is National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo). Well she didn't call it DaNaBloPoMo (Daily National Blog Posting Month), so I don't know if I'll post daily (which is her goal), but I'll try to get going more regularly again. I might even do more than one a day to catch up.

(One note of frustration: Recently I accidentally put Windows Vista on my computer....well, it wasn't actually me but that is or could be another post. Since that happened, I'm having a little trouble getting blogspot to do what I want. I can't just click in the body of the post and move about. If I get off track I have to click myself back to the title, tab into the body of the post, and use the arrow to move where I want to be...very frustrating and enough to make one stop posting!)

Maybe my life is just too boring to post more regularly...but you know, I'm finding it isn't such a bad place to be.

Anticipating the Holidays

2009-10-21T21:30:00.001-07:00

This scene is no longer. I took this photo at my school's autumn gathering...our Chili Off. It took place at our kindergarten teacher's place, which is a beautiful area. She has a wonderful old farm house surrounding by fields. While we were eating great chili and playing games of Corn Hole and Croquet, I snuck over to get this shot.

These fields are empty now. Only stubble remains, and I'm thinking holidays. How could I help it? I've already seen Christmas displays up in department stores when I was in Chicago over last weekend. I'll admit that I love the holidays...from Halloween on, but Thanksgiving and Christmas more so than Halloween. But that doesn't mean I'm game for such early decorating. I don't watch a lot of television but I'm sure the Christmas advertisements are there. I know some holiday movie trailers are out. The new release of A Christmas Carol with Jim Carey is soon to be out. Early November is just too early for a movie like that. I find that when all the hype starts so early, I get burned out around the time I should be in the throes of shopping and cooking and crafting.

I have to admit though, I'm looking forward to this holiday season more so than I have for years. Why? If you read (and I really don't have a lot of readers..I'm basically just talking to myself here), I'm pretty much an empty nester. While I do have one daughter still at home, it's different. I have no high school children. I am free from all of the commitment it takes to be an involved parent. I loved every minute of it, but....

I won't be planning a Madrigal dinner (although I plan on attending and enjoying it). So, I can cook, craft, shop and wrap to my heart's content. Another interesting change, my adult daughters are encouraging me not to do so much shopping, and I'm game...at least if I can still do a little. We'll still have a family exchange on both mine and Ed's sides, but we will try to cut down on what we are doing for each other and instead adopt a family to assist.

We are having the big Thanksgiving meal (which I actually love because it is about food and not presents), but for Christmas we are planning on a more simple meal of soup/chowder, munchies, and desserts. We can have a lot less stress in the way of food preparation (Ed asked me..."When did this happen? Was I consulted?...he should know better), and more time for fun and games and holiday movies.

I am going to enjoy this...for years I've gotten caught up in making sure my girls were happy, that they had enough, that I was fair with what I did for each of them, etc....I'm a bit like my mother that way, although I'll never do what she still does...buys for each and every one of her children, their spouses, and her grandchildren. It's just too much and I wish I could get her to stop, but it makes her happy. I've finally gotten her to buy gift cards. I've finally convinced her that is what the girls prefer, but beyond that I doubt that her insistence on buying for everyone will ever end as long as her health allows her to do it.

I'm a Christmas fiend, so I'm sure I'll have a lot of posts about what I'm doing approaching the holidays. I've been away a lot due to a crazy schedule at home and school, so I hope to get back into the swing of things. And hopefully they won't be so all over the place as this one is (trying to catch up I guess).

DePaul Family Weekend

2009-10-21T21:23:00.000-07:00

Ed and I visited Mary, our youngest, at DePaul University for family weekend last weekend. One of the events was a double decker bus tour from DePaul to center city and back northward again. Here is the back of Ed's head as we are trying to avoid decapitation when departing from the Lincoln Park area. It was a great weekend, except for one thing. I didn't get one single bite of Chicago Pizza. When your daughter lives there, pizza becomes commonplace and she didn't want it....guess I'm going to have to make a secret trip to Chicago to get my pizza fix!

Girl Power!

2009-10-07T15:14:00.000-07:00

I'm going to have some fun. After all, it is October. After all, I said I'd share things about my grown children, since I don't have little ones any longer, nor am I yet a grandmother. So here is a good one. How cute is that.

Do you remember the Power Rangers? Have they come back around yet? This is Erin probably around 14 years ago (she is now 20 years old), in a costume I made....yes, I made it. I made almost all of their Halloween costumes. I remember the late nights sewing, determined to get them done. All for an hour or two of collecting candy. But boy did those costumes make fun dress up clothes long AFTER Halloween was over. Yes, I'd do it all again, and maybe I will one day for my grandchildren.

Blast from the Past

2009-09-29T18:49:00.000-07:00

Ed and I went to dinner last Saturday evening to a fabulous Greek restaurant in Fountain Square which is very near to where I grew up. The area is booming thanks to some efforts at renovation and quaint restaurants and shops. In my childhood there was no Interstate 65 running north and south through the middle of Indianapolis (which was actually the end of the area for many many years...it split the neighborhoods, many homes became rentals as families moved out, and it was dead for years). Before the interstate, there were nice little neighborhoods of middle class families, with dads who went off to work daily and moms who stayed home. My school, Public School #18, also known as Abraham Lincoln School was across the street from the first house we lived in (a rental), and then later (from 3rd grade on) a house just a block away. That home, where my parents still live, is the one and only home my parents ever owned. I believe it cost around $10,000.

I walked to school each morning, came home for lunch which I ate watching Popeye and Janie, and walked back to school, to return home at the 3:15 p.m. bell. Mom and her friends were in the PTO, had garage sales, sat in each other's backyards while their children played, and we all went home in time to sit down for dinner together every evening at 6 p.m. sharp. We then sat in front of the television watching Andy Griffith, Beverly Hillbillies, Carol Burnett, Sonny & Cher, Dick Van Dyke, Petticoat Junction (and those were from 3rd grade on...probably before that were shows even I barely remember...Wagon Train, etc.). It would never have occurred to my parents, or any parents, to complain to a teacher about school issues; and if we got in trouble at school there was no question it was our fault and we were in trouble.

Before Fountain Square is as it is now, it had a Murphy's "dime store." Actually it still may be there, but it can't be the same. I bought a lot of my school dresses there as a child, something like 2/$5. My mom used layaway. I can still smell that place, warm salted nuts, popcorn...and I can hear the sounds...a "ding, ding, ding" in the background...and I still really don't know what that ding was for. There was a soda fountain. There was an area where you could by 45 records....not actually purchase 45 different records, but actual vinyl records that ran at the SPEED 45 on the turntable. They were sold in sleeves, either plain or with the band's picture on the front. When I was 7 and my sister 14, I'd watch her buy the latest greatest release from the Beatles. She had (and later I had one too) a little carrying case for the 45's. You also had to have the little yellow plastic pieces to fit in the hole in the center of the record so it would play smoothly. At Easter you could actually go to Murphy's and buy chicks or ducklings, and I think we owned a duck for awhile. We also once owned a rooster, whose name was Sir Cedric, and he was mean. When my mother would go out the back door to hang the wash (of course) Sir Cedric would chase after her. Yes, we had a rooster in our backyard in Indianapolis. Sir Cedric was soon banished to a farm in southern Indiana.

In those days we also actually went outside to play, if you can imagine. We were outside from the time we got home from school until it got dark out, especially in the summer of course. Our parents didn't worry about where we were. The streets were safe. Of course there was some crime probably, but mothers didn't have to think about their children being abducted or that a child molester lived in the house down the street. You can't tell me that exposure to such things in the entertainment industry and the media hasn't had an impact in the numbers of sick and criminal minds today.

We were very imaginative and adventurous about how we spent our time, using our entire city block at dusk to play a game called Bloody Murder during which we tried to hide from each other. If you were seen, even from a distance, you were considered "murdered" and out of the game. I played jacks on the front porch of a friend for hours on end. We drew Hopscotch on the sidewalk and played, we jumped rope, we went around the neighborhood collecting soda bottles which we could turn in to the corner grocery store (owned by a neighborhood family who lived behind it) for money to buy penny (yes, penny) candy...25 cents equaled 25 pieces of candy. We bought soda from a machine where you put in your money (15 cents) and pulled the bottle out. My mother kept her old shoes, dresses, purses and jewelry...what little she had. It was put in a bag which was called a rag bag (she had one when she was growing up too so that is what we called it) and I played dress up in those things.

My sister and I played pretend games together such as "Queen." If you were the Queen, everything...and I mean EVERYTHING had to be done for you. Like, if I was Queen and had an itch on my nose, my sister the servant had to scratch it for me. We loved horses, so we also pretended that one of us was a horse and the other the horse's owner. Yes, we would go around on all fours and the other one would climb on and put a rope or string around the other's neck to go for a ride.

It was a huge deal for us to go to a fast food restaurant. In fact there really weren't any for a long time, and then the only one was McDonald's and maybe Steak n' Shake (the drive in kind), and White Castle. We just didn't eat out. I think my mother bought the week's groceries for around $20 a week. It never ever would have occurred to me to NOT eat what my mother put in front of me. As a child I ate liver and onions, beans, kale,...absolutely anything she put in front of me. The word finicky didn't exist.

This visit to Fountain Square last weekend really got me thinking about my childhood, and how very little we had in material things, and how great my childhood was probably BECAUSE we didn't have a lot of things. This foundation that was laid for me is what I tried to give my own girls. While Ed and I have so much more than either of our parents, I still knew what was important, and I tried not to give my girls too too much when they were children. While forces outside of a parent's control often feel stronger than the parent's control, I at least tried to instill in them the idea that the simple things are the best. I'm thankful I had so little growing up. I know it wasn't easy for my parents, but it turned out to be a very rich childhood.

A Slump

2009-09-25T18:57:00.001-07:00

I've been in a slump since school started. Don't ask me why, but I think I've reached a turning point. Maybe it has been adjusting to Mary leaving and my life changing. I don't know why that would put me in a slump because while it is bittersweet, I have actually had a sense of euphoria at having more freedom and less work when it comes to high school activities. I also really hadn't been feeling that well, and was feeling just a bit paranoid about it.

So I did do the smart thing. I got myself checked out and am all clear. The stress I seemed to be internalizing for whatever reason seems to have lifted. I was having what felt like a weird heart beat...what felt like my heart skipping a beat (which my doctor told me in reality it is not doing). So I've had blood work done, an EKG, thyroid check, etc., etc., etc...and I am all clear.

This week I have felt back to normal finally. The heart thing (which can be stress or caffeine related) is gone, I've been sleeping better than I have in a very long time, and my energy level is up.

I'm hoping that will result in getting some more projects done at home, at school, better organization, and Ed and I getting into a new routine of spending time together, taking some short trips, going out more frequently with friends, and just enjoying the freedom of doing what we want when we want.

I have a feeling maybe the whole thing was related to internalized stress over reaching a new stage of our lives. I suppose adults can internalize things as well as children.

Maybe my posts will even become more interesting. Sometimes I think that my life is boring now, but then...that's not all bad. Boring can be good.

Molly's Spot

2009-09-25T18:45:00.001-07:00

This is Molly in her spot for this week. Last week Ed found her curled up similarly in the basement on one of the chairs, on top of a vibrating back massager pad his sister left here on a recent visit. He'd find her down there one evening, go to work the next morning, go back to the basement to watch TV and she'd still be there.

This week she's decided to curl up on the detached pillow on one of our great room chairs. We again would leave for work in the morning, and I'd find her there...still (or at least that's the impression she gave me), as if she hadn't moved all day. I think she is pulling our leg.

There's one way I know...her food bowl is emptying. I can just picture her hearing the garage door come up, and making a mad dash for her spot to make us think she hasn't moved and that there is something wrong with her. It's probably because the dogs get so much attention. This is attention seeking behavior if I've ever seen it. Cats are that way.

Too Too Much

2009-09-20T17:27:00.000-07:00

I have been a bit "blogged" down (groan) with my posting. That is mostly because I've been working on house projects in anticipation of fall and winter.

I don't even know if we'll manage to get to the attic before it gets too cold, but Ed and I have been simultaneously attacking various parts of the house we naturally claim...mine is the den/library and his is the garage. I think I got in over my head.

I am in the process of cleaning off bookshelves...shelf by shelf. We have more than just books in our library. We have DVD's, CD's, various cords that belong with who knows what, stacks of music (written music) left from high school choirs and performances, violin music, guitar music, piano music, yearbooks from my oldest daughter Caitlin, who is 25, starting from K through high school (plus the other daughters' yearbooks), plus my and Ed's yearbooks...uh, let's see...a plastic container full of crayons and coloring books (Christmas coloring books which I refuse to throw away...go ahead and laugh...sometimes I still like to color), vinyl record albums (some of which I am sure are collectible), VCR tapes (movies and family videos), some of my mother-in-law's books (she is now residing in an assisted living facility), and some of my daughters' books too...plays, teacher books, etc., etc.

Are you overwhelmed yet? I am. As I said. I started feeling anxious by the time I was only half way through. What happens when you have that much stuff is that you don't know what to do with it. I'm not one to get rid of books, but it is time. I now have several grocery sacks, and a large plastic container of books sitting in the hall outside of the library. Ed will have to take a look at those, and so will the girls, and probably some of them will come back into the library.

I'll probably donate the paper backs and others I find of little value to the library or my school's 8th grade garage sale. There may be some that, although they no longer hold interest for us, may have value to someone else. For awhile I've thought about selling things on Amazon or Ebay. I'm not sure if it is worth the effort, but I might experiment and try a few.

Ed's area was the garage. His mother as mentioned moved to our town and is an assisted living facility, so not only do we have the aforementioned books of hers, but we have some pieces of furniture, boxes of photos, etc., some of which were in the garage....along with various other pieces of furniture from our daughters' dorms and apartments. He did take a few things to be donated today just to get them out of the garage. We haven't been able to park in one of the bays.

We have only been in this house five years this winter, and I have no idea how we could possibly have accumulated so much stuff, but I think it is from having college aged daughters, parents who are aging, and.....something that is going to stop, an addiction to books. I have a number of books I will keep, but I hereby vow to start going to the library or trading with friends.

Anyone up for a book exchange? Or better yet, forget the exchange, I don't need anymore...anyone up for a book giveaway?

Why is it that when you are watching a movie where there is a room with stacks of books and papers around, it seems so...so...quaint or artsy...like maybe in Finding Forester, but when it is your own house it doesn't feel that way?

WHAT THE???

2009-09-16T19:35:00.000-07:00

So today I'm standing at the Smart Board (aren't I a lucky teacher?) with a background page of primary handwriting lines up so I could model proper form of upper case and lower case letter g. While I am modeling, I'm verbally stating what you do. Something like this: For upper case G, start a bit below the line (just like upper case o), move up to touch the top line, circle to the left, touch the bottom line, come up and stop at the mid line, then trace straight in. I guess that might not make a lot of sense unless you the reader have a piece of primary writing paper and try it.

So if you've never worked with a Smart Board it can get off its alignment a bit. I had aligned it, yet when I started upper case g and said "touch the top line" I didn't quite do it...by a minuscule amount, barely visible to my students I'm sure...except for one.

The "one" who blurted out, and of course without raising his hand..."You didn't touch the top line." Know what else? The "one" has THE WORST handwriting in the classroom and is a complete mess most of the time...snack food on the table and floor....yesterday he dropped fruit roll up on the floor, stepped on it, and proceeded to walk across the classroom carpet, the carpet across the hall to the restroom, and into the restroom, leaving stains the entire way.

This is also the "one" who has holes poked through the zip lock bags in his supply bin that hold his crayons and flash cards, the "one" whose flash cards and letter cards are spilled out of their bags and are loose everywhere in his supply bin, so that 25 other students have to wait on him to get his materials together, the "one" who slows us all down so we get behind, and the "one" who got a red light from me last week and laughed about it.

This is also the "one" who has an extra super long belt that hangs, and he constantly has it pulled up and is chewing on it. His other favorite thing to chew on is a book bag strap while we are lined up to go home. He's the "one" whose shoes are never tied and his shoes are falling off his feet. He is the "one" who wears his food.

When I called him on it, he looked at me blankly. I truly think he has no clue how disrespectful it was, and more importantly, no clue..no realization...of the mess he is. I told him I had certainly (damned well...was what I was thinking) better see perfect G's on his paper when I checked it. So do you think that I saw perfection on his work when I checked it? NOT!

And as irritated, frustrated, angry, and humorous (I hope) as this post sounds, you wanna know what? I KNOW he is one of THE ONES who needs me most, and I honestly don't know if I will be able to make a difference, which is THE most frustrating thing for any teacher!

What's Wrong?

2009-09-11T16:10:00.000-07:00

Isn't something wrong when a six or seven year old doesn't know his grandparent's first name? I had my students take home an interview page and asked parents to help them complete the information on one or more of their grandparents.

My students turned them all in today and we took a few minutes to share them. I was naming each interviewee by name so I could connect the student with the grandparent, and I still have one person who has gone unclaimed. I don't get it. I understand they call them Grandma, Pappaw, Nana or whatever...but they actually don't know their grandparent's first or last name????

When one of my students looked confused when I gave directions for making a Grandparent Day card today and stated "What's a grandparent?" I decided there is something very wrong in the world..or maybe very sad.

On a final note, I found that as I read through the interview questions, I found myself almost relating more to the grandparents answering the questions than the parents of my students. Uh...yeah...I can remember black and white television, four channels (no cable, no HBO or anything), gas costing 34 cents a gallon, soda from the machine that cost 15 cents and you pulled it out (and you didn't dare let go 'cause it would slide back in and you'd lose your money), penny candy..25 pieces 25 cents, home made pizza every Friday night from Chef Boyardee kits, drive in movies (our local one sadly closed a year ago), entertaining yourself with a box because you couldn't afford toys, how huge huge huge a treat it was to ever, ever, ever eat out at McDonald's or anywhere (in fact I don't even remember restaurants existing they way they do now), walking home from school for lunch (no school buses)....

Man oh man, I could go on and on. And the scariest thing of all? The prospect that one day soon one of these little kids is going to come up to me and not start to call me "mom" the way they used to do, but they are going to say "Gran......"

And then I will retire.

Tiny Bubbles

2009-09-11T16:08:00.001-07:00

Why is it that I come up with great things to write about in my blog, the first line of a great American novel, or the forward for a successful professional book when I am steeped in steaming water and covered in bubbles in the bath tub?

Yucky!

2009-09-08T17:07:00.001-07:00

I've been feeling a little yucky lately...more stressed than usual, less energetic than usual. I've preached and preached to others, far older than I, to not let things go and be a proactive person when it comes to your health....soooooo, I AM going to the doctor tomorrow and will probably be asked by the doctor himself...."Why" exactly are you here?

I already know some things, having already gone for my "female" annual. Cholesterol is 207...not unreasonably high "most" doctors say, but I myself who am my own first doctor says it is too high and I'm working on bringing it down. Exercise, exercise, exercise...I'm ready to get going on my walks...part of the reason I have decided to just go ahead and get checked out just for the heck of it.

We Did It! (addendum to the last)

2009-09-06T18:43:00.001-07:00

We did it! I got through it. Of course we shared some tears, but that is just part of it. It wasn't any easier than the first. It's just not a fun experience, but I have to say the anticipation of it is worse than the actuality of it.

Moving her in was the easiest of any of our college move in experiences. We pulled up and were immediately surrounded by upperclassmen and security helping us unload. A couple of gentlemen came with large boxes on rolling carts, loaded our things, and had us upstairs in no time at all.

From there we worked with Mary and her roommate to get her bed, desk, etc. in just the right spot to give them the maximum space. She and her roommate got all her clothes unpacked and put away, Ed and I helped with a few other things, and she was set.

Ed and I left to check into our hotel, while Mary, her roommate, and suite mates went to a soccer game. As it turned out, Ed's brother and our two nieces were in town for the Jazz Festival, so we met up for dinner.

Sunday morning Ed and I went to Mass at St. Vincent DePaul Church on campus (a beautiful traditional old Catholic church) where I teared up a number of times thinking about "the goodbye." We picked Mary up and went to lunch, where she and I both continued to have our little moments of tears. But somehow we got through it and both decided we were going to be ok. One more trip to the bookstore to pick up her books and buy some DePaul wear, a return to her room, and we were set for the big goodbye. Of course I cried...I had to..I didn't have a choice. But I'm ok, Ed's ok, she's ok.

We are looking forward to parent weekend in mid-October. I'm so proud of her...of them all.

The Baby

2009-09-03T17:09:00.000-07:00

Here she is...my baby. Message to her sisters: Yes, you were and are alllll my babies. It's just that she REALLY is my baby, THE baby of the family. Here she is holding one of the boxes she has packed for her college trip. This is it. This Labor Day weekend, her father and I will be driving to Chicago to drop her off at DePaul University. It's starting to sink in...I can feel it. I've avoided it all year long...sort of .

All of her senior year in high school, with each passing event...each choir concert, the fabulous Madrigal Dinner, the musical...she has turned to me and said "Mom, did you cry?" I've sort of looked at her wondering what answer is it she wants? I cried...sort of...a little...if tearing up just a bit is crying. I worried that just tearing up would disappoint her since she has seen me profusely cry at some of her older sisters' performances. I never really answered her directly. So Mary, it isn't that those events didn't mean as much or touch me as much. Imagine how I felt playing Beauty & the Beast as you stood up there singing it. I maintained my composure but there were the few that dripped down my face as I held back so I could read my music. I think it is just that I had to remain stoic so as to protect myself until it was time.

I've been involved in the middle school or high school for 12 years now. I've seen my daughters perform on the high school stage as well as community theater. I've seen one or more of them sing at Carnegie Hall in NYC. I've been to Prague and Chesky Krumlov (a great little medieval town in the Czech Republic), Salzburg, Vienna, and Gumpoldskirchen (a great little wine town outside of Vienna. I've seen them sing on the steps of the Vienna Opera house, and in a salt mine in Salzburg. I've traveled to Peru and stood in Machu Pichu. I've seen them have lead roles or great parts in musicals....Hello Dolly, Bye Bye Birdie, The King and I, West Side Story, The Sound of Music, I Remember Mama, Down by the Ocean, Harvey, Jekyl and Hyde, You Can't Take it With You, Our Town, and loads more plays, including those when they were children in community theater.

It's over. It's starting to sink in. I will miss them performing. I hope I will see it again. What great memories. I'm not sad it's over in one way...they've had so many opportunities. I promoted those abilities, their involvement in the arts, since they were children. I took them to plays, and even when they were little I brought them up on movie musicals. (I was always shocked when they would come home from school and tell me that their peers had not hear of this movie or that when it was so familiar and so a part of our lives.)

Anyway, do you possible know how much you are loved...all of you? So, the baby will be leaving this weekend, but she's not so very far away and it will give us an excuse to visit Chicago. The others are well on their way...one finishing up undergrad and possibly planning on law school, one an English teacher, one pursuing a degree in Anthropology, and now the baby.

I think the dam is about to burst. I'll let you know. But that's ok. It's a passage. I've done what I am supposed to do. There are more good things to come...namely, some freedom for me. Don't worry, I'm not trying to be a parent who behaves as if other people don't love their children as much as I love mine. I just want to acknowledge that I am incredibly blessed as a mother.

(One last note...look for some blogs and pictures and stories now and then about their growing up years.)

Bridezillas

2009-09-01T17:27:00.001-07:00

I am a violinist. I am not a professional, but I'm decent enough to play for weddings and such. I'm in an all volunteer orchestra and recently joined an all string ensemble as well.

As of today I am giving up playing for weddings, unless I play for someone I know or the close friend of someone I know, or a family member, a friend, the daughter of a friend...hopefully you get the idea. I will no longer agree to play for the wedding of someone I do not know at all.

Here are the last two experiences I had when I was asked to play for a wedding:

Number 1: Last spring I received a phone call out of the blue from a bride-to-be who introduced herself and told me she had talked to me a few weeks ago about playing for her wedding which was to take place on such-and-such date. I had ABSOLUTELY NO MEMORY of talking to this person. But....as I am prone to do...I believed HER instead of myself. I checked my calendar. I had not written down the date. I would have written down the date without a doubt. I still believed HER. The date was free, so anyway I said yeah okay, I guess. But I will tell you. I WAS SCARED. I truly felt frightened that I was losing my mind, that I was showing signs of Alzheimer's, etc. I'm not being funny when I say that I was truly concerned about myself.

It just so happened that a friend who often plays weddings with me (we are in the aforementioned orchestra and ensemble together) and I were on our way to a rehearsal when I mentioned to her this phone call. She looked at me in surprise, and shock I'm sure, and said "It was me." I replied, "WHAT???" She repeated, "I talked to her. It was me she called." To make a long story short, things went downhill from there. She kept calling one of us or the other and getting us mixed up. She told my friend that since she had talked to me first (which she hadn't) she wanted me to play. This was after more time went by and I had already stepped aside telling my friend "You can have her." When the phone call came that she wanted me and not my friend, my schedule changed and I had something else on the calendar which could not (not that I would have anyway) be changed.

As it turned out, neither one of us played for her. She was rude, disorganized, and hung up on my friend. Done, except that I wasted a lot of time, experienced a lot of frustration and stress for no fault of my own (and so did my friend). At least I'm not experiencing serious memory loss.

Number 2: I had another bride call me in the summer to schedule me to play for her September wedding. She wanted both my friend and me. I hadn't heard anything from her for a very long time, but she finally did call just a couple of weeks prior to her wedding (this was late last week) and said we should get together to pick the music and whatnot. I said fine, called my friend, and we scheduled for this Sunday afternoon past. A day or two after that her bridesmaid called me to get directions to my house which I gave. The bride ended up calling me the day of our meeting and told me she was sick and couldn't make it. Ok. Fine. We rescheduled for this evening at 6 p.m. I had a funny feeling about this whole thing for some reason.

To back up, my friend and I found out just a couple of hours earlier that this bride has no vocalist, no piano, no organist...no one else...just two violins. Typically we play as people are being seated, perhaps a song if the mothers are lighting a candle, etc. We usually have the support of an accompanist. Our church is large and two violins alone is not a big sound. Oh, the bride earlier in this whole process had mentioned that she was doing "a wedding on a budget" yet it was for 200 people. What that means can be translated into "I don't want to pay you much, if anything." We don't care all that much about money, although we have both upped what we charge. We have to plan, we have to get together with the bride, we have to get together with each other and rehearse, and we have to show up and do it. In general it isn't unreasonable to charge $50 to $100 each. When I got married almost 28 years ago, I paid my organist $50 and that was then.

What happened next was that 6 p.m. came and went. At about 6:10 p.m. the phone rang as my friend and I sat and waited. It was the groom, with whom I had never spoken before, saying they were on their way (I didn't know he was coming too but that's ok) and they needed directions. I started giving directions as if they were in or near my town, but then realized I should know from what direction they were coming. They said they were coming from a town way south of my town and that they had just gotten on the interstate. They were at least a half hour away, even in good traffic, but this was still rush hour.

Still, my friend and I said we would wait. I did have someone else coming over at 7 or so for something else, which is true, although I could have dealt with it. We hung up and my friend and I waited about another five minutes. The phone range again and it was the bride. She said she was sorry for the hassle, but they had allowed themselves plenty of time (yeah right) but they weren't going to make it. I said ok, well I don't know what you are going to do, and she said she had messed it all up. As far as I know, this bride has no music for her wedding which is supposed to take place a week from this Saturday, but that's her problem.

I'm done. No more weddings. I think this is scary. There are people like this out there in the world. What will happen to these marriages? What will life be like in their home? What will their children be like? Good grief, I could end up teaching one of them.

The good thing is I got to spend some quality time with my friend. She stayed for dinner and we had a nice glass (or two) of Pinot Noir.

The second good thing is that I have now made dinner and theater plans with some friends for that Saturday and I am totally unavailable, so don't call me.

Stress<----->Computer

2009-08-30T09:45:00.000-07:00

This is where I have been spending a lot of time lately. When people first started having PC's in the home they sort of became addictive. It was just such an awesome thing. The kids who have been born in the past ten years won't understand what a novelty it was for some of us.

I was an addictee when we first got one in the home, then I got away from that thankfully. Now a bit of me has become like that again. I've started this blog and another, I'm typing instead of writing out my lesson plans, I'm on Facebook, and there are always emails to check and websites to investigate (usually teacher websites I like exploring).

Lately my computer has been really slow...I mean sssllllloooooooowww. I'm a patient person. Unlike my husband, who will walk away if it doesn't do what he wants it to immediately, I stick it out. I wait...and wait...and wait...for something I need to load. It's funny, but lately I've sensed a lot more tension in my body than usual. The back of my neck has been aching and burning, and I've had a number of headaches.

Just yesterday the man who helps me with computer issues came over and installed some memory on my computer, updated our virus software, and removed some of the things that come with computers that you never use.

After he left (I didn't have much time because we had evening plans) I came in and clicked explorer only to have my home page almost instantly appear. I felt this huge weight lift from me. I'm starting to wonder if my stress, the tension I felt and headaches I've had are somehow related to the amount of time I've spent sitting here waiting and waiting and waiting, bound and determined to get that picture loaded, that blog written, and those lesson plans done.

I hope so. I am trying to simplify my life in a lot of ways. One is that I really do not want to live on the computer. Life is too short. Technology is a tool, not a way to spend hours and hours of my life. I hope this means the end of the extra tension and headaches.

An Earlier Visit

2009-08-26T19:23:00.000-07:00

Back in March I posted about an experience I had, one of feeling the presence of someone near me on a stressful occasion, someone who had died. It was a calming experience. I knew that one day I would write about the one other time in my life when something similar happened.

The thing is that I was only five years old. It was shortly after my maternal grandmother (Mammaw) died. Having been so young when she died, I really don't remember that much about her. I just have this image in my mind when I think of her. I have very vague memories, if that is what they are, of her being around. My sister being seven years older than I, was very close to Mammaw, and I know it was a hard time for her and my mother.

I have this feeling that Mammaw wasn't a real happy person. When I do think of her, I picture her as in an old photograph we have around somewhere. She was only a a couple of years older than I am now when she died, yet when I look at the photos of her, she seemed so much older. I guess life was harder then. I've heard she was very different than Pappaw. He was the playful, silly one; she was the serious one. My mother was their only child. Maybe my mother will talk to me about her one day in a little more detail.

What happened is that I believe Mammaw visited me, and I feel she did so to say goodbye to me. All I remember is being in bed in the bedroom I shared with my sister. I remember waking up and opening my eyes. I felt her presence and I saw what I believe was the dark outline of her...like a shadow. Of course, being five years old it frightened me to no end and I hid under the covers and eventually fell back asleep.

That memory has lived with me all my life. I haven't shared it with too many people. I once worried that someone would think I was off my rocker. Actually, the response has been an overwhelming belief that this was a real experience and I should have faith that it was just what I feel it was. For many many years I never told my mother, but I eventually did. I still think about it once in awhile. It had to have been real. How could a five year old's brain retain something like that? I have no answer to that question, but I did and still do think about that event, now 48 years later.

Mmmm...Mmm...Good

2009-08-24T15:37:00.000-07:00

Ever since I went to see Julie and Julia a few days ago, I've been cooking up a storm...for me anyway. I've signed up for something called Farm Fresh Delivery (my first delivery is this Friday), I've visited a local Farmer's Market, and I've run by a local farmer's roadside stand to pick up around four dozen ears of sweet corn (some to eat this week and some to freeze for winter)....the last unfortunately.

On Saturday I made both chili and Italian beef. Also on Saturday I got a call from a friend who has a garden bursting with zucchini and she called to beg me to take some. I did. Especially since she so kindly even grated enough for me to make four loaves of zucchini bread, delivered it to my house, and even brought a couple of recipes typed out.

Tonight when I got home from school (and it was practically night since I didn't leave school until 5:15 p.m.) I put on some kale to boil, broke green beans to steam, put the Italian beef in the oven to reheat, mixed up two loaves of zucchini bread which are now in the oven, and will probably go back after posting this to put on some water for sweet corn.

Here is my mother-in-law's recipe for Italian beef:

Ingredients: 5 to 7 lb. rump roast, 2-3 cps. of water, 2-3 beef bouillon cubes, 1 t. marjoram (I actually used some from a small herb garden I grew on my deck this year), 1 t. thyme, 1 t. oregano, 5 drops Tabasco sauce, 2 t. garlic powder or 1 clove minced, 2 T. Worchestershire sauce, 1 c. green pepper (more really) chopped or sliced into thin strips (I prefer sliced), salt and pepper to taste

Directions: Cook beef 40 minutes per pound at 325 deg. Remove, cool, and slice thin. Add water, bouillon, etc. to juices (in same pan). Simmer 15 minutes. I put that same pan right over the burner or flame of my stove. Add sliced beef. Marinate 4 to 5 hours or overnight. Heat before serving on rolls. Do not boil, just simmer.

This recipe is somewhat like the chili I make because you can play around with it a little. You can add more bouillon if you want a stronger beef flavor, use herbs to your own taste, use minced hot peppers of some kind (I did this weekend using the peppers I got at the Farmer's Market) and adjust for how spicy you want it, and you can chop or slice the green peppers. Also, I like a lot of green peppers to put on the sandwich with the meat and juices.

Also, for bread I don't use plain old buns. I use rolls, preferably hard rolls which I've had trouble finding lately, but did find them at Kroger. This allows you to pile on the beef, peppers, and pour some of the broth (au jus) right on the sandwich. It really is best to leave the beef marinating overnight for more flavor.

Enjoy...I'm off to check on my works in progress.

I'll never attempt to be Julia Child, but then I've found good tasting food doesn't have to be difficult. Au jus just may be the only french cooking term I do know. Oh, and bon appetit (even though this is an Italian recipe).

Good Golly Miss Molly!

2009-08-22T20:38:00.000-07:00

Meet Molly. She isn't in sight too often. Since we got the first and then the second dog, she sometimes goes into hiding. They have all adjusted though, and she pretty much has learned to behave in the typically feline fashion...aloof....around the dogs, instead of running from them.

For some reason, she refuses to drink water from a bowl. Actually she probably does since I do provide water for her, but as is typical of cats, she wants to do things her way and would never allow me see her drink from the bowl. So when I am in the kitchen she occasionally hops up on the counter (I can hear the non-animal people gasping) and I know she wants a drink. I turn on a slow steady stream and there she goes.

Of course, she does it when I am cooking off of clean counters and don't particularly want to have her on the counter. Note the muffin tins in the background. We had chili with corn muffins for dinner tonight. No one complained about finding a hair in their muffin, so I guess we escaped discovery.

Saturday Morning Excursion

2009-08-22T09:50:00.000-07:00

Although it would have been easy for me to lounge in bed a bit longer this morning (the first Saturday following the beginning of school) I didn't. Instead I invited my husband to go with me to the Zionsville Farmers Market (thanks to my friend Janet who wrote about this in one of her blog entries). Ed isn't one to stroll and just enjoy the moment sometimes, but it was good for us to do something together and to get out of the house.

We did a walk through of the market first and went around a couple of more times to buy what we thought was the most and best for the money. We picked up a cantaloupe (which is called in Indiana a muskmelon and is somewhat different looking and better tasting than a plain cantaloupe), tomatoes, green peppers, hot peppers, peaches, chili sauce, sausage (his pick), rosemary/olive oil bread, and lastly (with all the cash we had left) this beautiful bouquet of flowers.

He seemed to enjoy it, although I did have to encourage him to relax and stroll, and not become his "efficiency expert" self. We should have brought the dogs. There were dogs everywhere...next time.

I think we have to learn to do these sorts of things together more frequently and rediscover ourselves. When you are raising children you are going every which way and are so busy all the time. It is hard to learn to spend one-on-one time together again. We are entering a new phase.

Of course on the way home, he fell into one of his favorite things to do...explore...go a different way...get lost sort of (but not admit it). He's never really had a hobby other than that he reads a lot....maybe something to do with cartography, not that there are any places in the world left unexplored. I know...he could be the person who creates better directions for online services, since they never give you the most efficient route.

How Could I Possibly....

2009-08-18T20:20:00.000-07:00

...be thinking of autumn. I don't know if it is because summer seems over to me when school starts. I don't know if it is because I was truly satisfied by this summer. I was. It was the closest thing to the summers I remember as a youngster in a long long time...warm days, cool nights, rain enough for the farmers. I don't know if it is because my life is changing since all of the girls are out of high school. Maybe it is just because I love living in Indiana for one important reason. The change of seasons. I love it. I love change.

So for some reason I started thinking about autumn today...the leaves, the crispy days that require a hoodie, layering my clothes, the smell in the air, pumpkins, fall festivals, the orchard, sitting around a bonfire, pots of chili on the stove.

I guess it does have something to do with being back at school, like the opening scene in You've Got Mail when Joe Fox is writing to Kathleen Kelly: "Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me wanna buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address."

I think I'll go get my sweaters out of storage.

I Stand Corrected

2009-08-17T19:17:00.000-07:00

After posting the previous and "gifting" it to my parents, my mother told me I had just a couple of things mixed up. The first and not all that important is that my father had just been discharged from the Navy, but he was in uniform. Secondly, and more important, my mother did not turn 18 on her wedding day, she turned 17.

My mother was an only child, living in a small town in southern Indiana, getting married on her 17th birthday. Oh, she was also already expecting her first child. If it was scandalous at the time, which maybe it was, does it really matter after 62 years? I don't think it was a shotgun wedding. My grandfather might not have been very happy about it but it wasn't that. They wanted to be married. Look at what happened...four children, nine grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren. The most important thing is a marriage that has lasted for 62 years.

They didn't get married in a church. It was a civil service. On their 50th we four children put together the celebration they never had...the whole shebang...a big reception, the cake, a slide show video with music, a limo, dinner and a hotel, and lots of family and friends.

I just figured out I would have to live to be 91 to be married for 62 years....not so sure about that.

Ode to Mommy and Daddy

2009-08-15T06:47:00.000-07:00

Happy 79th birthday to my mother (tomorrow, August 16). It also happens to be my parents' wedding anniversary (the 62nd). My mother was just turning 17 when my parents married. That is amazing to me. She was born in 1930 and my father in 1927.

Those were the years of The Great Depression. I'm not sure they had a sense of the economic situation in the country at the time because they were born into it. I think that has a lot to do with what they instilled in me. I think that is why it was natural in our family not to focus on things, but instead using the imagination, and spending lots of time reading.

Neither one of them is well educated in the conventional sense. They did not go to college. My father did not complete high school, although a few years ago the Salem Indiana School Board issued him an honorary degree because of his service to the country.

He joined the Navy during WWII. He didn't see action but was on a ship, and I've heard some amazing stories about what goes on with sailors on those ships, e.g. the ceremony that takes place when a sailor crosses the equator for the first time.

Not being educated didn't mean a whole lot in their lives. My father was skilled and worked for a radio/television place, then in civil service at Ft. Harrison, and then part time again in an appliance store up until a few years ago. He used his hands. And he is smart. He should have been an engineer. He's one of those naturally handy guys who could fix anything.

My mother was born in Salem, Indiana. My father was born nearby in a town you usually can't find on an Indiana map, Fredericksburg. Both were born at home. My father first spotted my mother at the Salem roller skating rink. He was a sailor on leave and was too shy to ask her to skate, so a friend asked her for him. He was a sailor in uniform. Need I say more? My mother wasn't too shy to say yes.

So they were married on my mother's 17th birthday. My sister was born less than a year later, followed by my older brother, me, and my younger brother...girl, boy, girl, boy...that's us.

My mother stayed at home, my father worked....sometimes two jobs. She did kid duty. Dad came home, ate dinner, and rested. He had the boys involved in community sports. There weren't community sports for girls back then, so we girls hung out with mom. Even if they weren't formally educated, they saw that we were. They let the school and teachers do their job. There weren't helicopter parents in those days. If we caused problems in school, we'd answer for it. I don't think any of us ever had to answer because we behaved. It's just what you did. My mother was friends with other mothers, and they were in the PTA. We came home to eat lunch and went back to school in the afternoon. We attended the neighborhood school and walked there and back home.

I mentioned my father should have been an engineer. Well my mother should have been a nurse. Dad has had some pretty major health problems for around 27 years off and on. We call him the Everready Bunny. We thank God he's gotten through it all so far and has been around to see all of his grandchildren born, and many of them all the way through high school and into college. My mother continues to take care of all of his needs. He's spoiled, and he knows it I think.

So today (actually it is tomorrow but I'll be celebrating with the family, not blogging) I honor them both for all they have done for me, for my brothers and sister, and for our children. I love them both more than I can express. Happy 79th birthday mom, and happy 62nd anniversary mom and dad!

A Great Meal With A Surprise

2009-08-13T17:59:00.000-07:00

Tonight we had the best meal of all meals, mainly due to its simplicity and the fact that as it turned out only two meals were needed, one for Ed and one for me. Mary wasn't hungry and Erin was going to her boyfriend's house. That means no cooking an entree because we happened to have some leftovers..only enough for the two of us.

We had eaten at Macaroni Grill a couple of nights ago. Restaurant portions have gotten out of control. Ed had a pork chop left, and I had spaghetti and one large meatball left. As sides we had leftover (from home) stir fry veggies mixed with....also leftover...rice. The only thing fresh was the Indiana corn I picked up today from a local farmer whose sons grow sweet corn each year (which is planted weekly for six weeks, so as to produce a bountiful, delicious six-week long crop).

It was a great meal and an easy meal. There was one interesting thing about one of the ears of corn. I've never, ever seen this. I am the product of a family of farmers. While my father didn't farm, my uncles and grandfather did. I've picked, shucked and eaten loads of sweet corn. Do you see it? The itty bitty baby corn growing inside its....mother?

By the way, I am buying a couple of dozen extra ears this last week to parboil, cut off the cob, and serve at Thanksgiving.

Little Women: Its Meaning to Me

2009-08-12T19:42:00.000-07:00

Finally, the last one. What it meant to me.

I just thought those four sisters had so much fun together. They used their imaginations. I was definitely an "imagination girl" growing up. They made it seem fun to be poor. I didn't have a lot growing up, but I had love. I didn't have a lot of things, but I had my imagination. It gave me a true appreciation for the mind. I play acted like they did. I was swept away by my dreams. I had what was called a "rag bag" (probably because that is what it was called when my mother was young). The rag bag was like a pillow case probably and it was full of old clothes, shoes, purses, and jewelry my mother was no longer using. I played dress up often with those throw aways.

We used to set up fairs in the back yard, makeshift booths of games we made up similar to ring toss, etc. We even had rides (the swing set, the slide). You paid a nickel probably for each game or ride. Then we had money to buy penny candy at the store. That's something you don't see any longer. My brothers took old bike parts and pieces of wood and built go carts which we'd ride down the alley. I could go on and on. The point is that we used our imaginations and what little resources that were on hand. We took such pleasure in simple things, as did the March girls.

I wanted to have an attic space like the March family (I sort of do today). I used to love to go into my grandma and grandpa's attic space and look through old boxes of stuff, including some navy uniforms that had belonged to my uncles and my father, a raccoon coat that had belonged to an aunt of mine, etc. My attic is a mess, but a mecca for a child who has an imagination and wants to explore. One day...when grandchildren come, I hopefully will still have it.

The March girls were a little bit old fashioned and a little bit ahead of their time. I'm a little like that. Their old fashioned way of life, wearing long dresses, making do with what they had to gather Christmas gifts for Marmee...that all appealed to the little girl me. At the same time, Marmee was ahead of her time. She pushed her girls to be independent and self-sufficient. She didn't want them to marry just to be taken care of. She wanted them to marry and be happy, whether they married someone with money to support them or not. She wanted them to be honest and have self-respect.

Finally, what can I say...I ended up having four daughters of my own. I've been a sort of Marmee I think. I hope I've taught them to appreciate the simple things. When they were small, we had a lot less than now, but more than some. I never bought them game systems or electronics. I mostly encouraged them to pretend. They had dress up clothes. I exposed them to many of the old movies and musicals. I remember when their high school put on Bye Bye Birdie, Cate and Kelly came home and were astounded that so many of their peers had never even heard of it (not that it is up there with quality musicals). We always read aloud. We made cookies, we played board games. Sometimes we had...gosh I forget what we called it...but a sort of night when we pretended we were living before electricity. They made tents using blankets over furniture, or we'd set up a tent and sleep outside in the back yard.

As they were growing up I would try to match their personality with that of Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy. They didn't fit perfectly, but it did seem that each of them shared certain characteristics of the March girls. Beth was the sensitive musician. That was Kelly, who has often told me..."Thanks mom, I'm the one who dies." Cate was Jo for her acting. Mary matched up with Amy who liked to use big words, often mispronouncing them (it's TRUE Mary), and that left Meg and Erin, who I think share some characteristics, although Erin may be a mix of different ones.

Well, you can maybe see why I've had a connection with this wonderful book. It all began with reading and becoming immersed in the lives of the March girls. I was right there with them...I felt like I was one of them. The rest just fell into place in my life.

Boob Tube

2009-08-09T20:28:00.000-07:00

There's a reason it has been called this. Just for fun I decided to run down the channels and check out the quality of television on a Sunday night (almost Monday morning).

*Huckabee debating health care

*True crime show about an Interstate Bank Mark Robber (called IBM bandit)

*To Catch a Predator

*More how to handle health care

*Show Biz - Men Over 40 Women Love

*Discovery Health (mystery diagnosis about a woman who feels pain in her arms)

*SyFy show which looks like it is depicting the end of the world

*Someone singing and wanting to be paid some money (1-800 number across the screen)

*Uma Thurman/John Travolta movie...what's that called?

*Someone in a tank shooting at a junk car in the desert

*Ad for Payless, Ad for Resolve carpet cleaner

*Ad for pasta, Ad for Lexus

*Talk about teaching parents to turn it all off, set their child on their lap, and read to them

*Food channel show focusing on something made with lots of beans

*FX...some guy talking about a naked girl

*HGTV show about a couple refurbishing a very messy home exterior

*Drop Dead Diva (haven't watched it from start to finish but have heard a lot about it lately)

*Ruby (have seen glimpses and heard a little about it, but am not familiar with it)

*Butterfinger commercial

*Walmart Fruit of the Loom underwear commercial (get colorful underwear for the family at reduced prices)

*Country Music video

*Man wrestling a tiger

*Police catching someone with a stolen vehicle

*Guys on bike ramps

*USGA recap

*Cubs baseball recap

*Poker

*Cary Grant/Sophia Loren movie

*Adult swim animated claymation type show

*Nanny rerun

*Another "trying to figure out what is medically wrong with this person" show

*Weird disfiguring disease medical show

*Some true crime thing

*What might have killed the dinosaurs - big blast theory

*Joan Rivers roast

*MASH rerun

*Mongolian wild horses

*blood and violence

*Last Holiday (Queen Latifah)

*Local high school channel

*Weather channel

*Credits for an ending show (I'd better hurry...almost midnight)

*Talk show - Chelsea Lately

*Infomercial trying to sell a book about how to get "Free Money"

*Meeting of the Metropolitan Development Commission

*Hip Hop

*Education Channel Schedule for the week

*Local news - race recap

*More credits

*Ad for a chefs academy

*Gospel Legends music infomercial

*QVC

*Yogurt commercial

*Religious channel - movie of Jesus in the Garden (it's not even Easter)

*Mattress commercial

*Safe Auto commercial

*Public television trying to raise money

*ESPN baseball recap

So what do you think? An unbelievable waste of time?

(Photo courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net)

Little Women Part 2: The Movies

2009-08-07T05:51:00.000-07:00

I've seen all the movie versions I am aware that exist. While I adore Katherine Hepburn as Jo (1933), that isn't my favorite. The acting is too close to what you would see in a silent film for my liking.

My favorite from a classic movie perspective is the one with June Allyson as Jo (1949). She does an excellent job capturing the spirit of Jo. That film also includes Elizabeth Taylor as Amy, Margaret O’Brien as Beth and Janet Leigh as Meg.

There is a television version I recently discovered and purchased on DVD. Susan Dey played Jo, and well...it's just awful. The costuming and sets are so terrible you feel like you are watching The Brady Bunch. In fact Eve Plumb from The Brady Bunch is actually in this film, and I didn't even realize it until I paused just now to check out the year it was made. It was made in 1978 and doesn't that explain a lot.

If you watch this video you'll see what I mean. Look at the color of the walls in the bedroom at this party scene a minute or so into the clip. People just didn't paint their walls that color during the Civil War, nor would the carpet color have been that blue. In fact, I doubt if people had wall-to-wall carpeting in 1861. Susan Dey's hair pretty much looks like the way she wore it in The Partridge Family. It just has the feel of a high school production at best and if you know and love this story the way I do, this just doesn't cut it.

http://uk.video.yahoo.com/watch/1307492

My true favorite thus far (and who knows if someone will attempt a movie version again) is the most recently produced version (1994). The cast includes Winona Ryder as Jo, Kirsten Dunst as young Amy, Claire Danes as Beth, Christian Bale as Laurie, and Susan Sarandon as Marmee. I had a hard time at first accepting Claire Danes as Beth. I think it is because of her role in My So-Called Life, but I got over it. There was just something about this film that made me suspend disbelief. It made me cry. I was there.

The story has always been a holiday story to me, and the movie is now also in my collection of Christmas movies I watch each year.

The only downside of any movie adaptation of a novel of this size is that things need to be cut, things that I felt were important to the story. Unfortunately, I suppose, that is necessary unless someone in the future wants to make another Gone With the Wind.

http://www.imdb.com/video/screenplay/vi3566600473/

Next time….what this story has meant to me.

Seasons Change

2009-08-06T20:53:00.000-07:00

I have very mixed emotions about starting school again and thinking of the end of summer.

I'm not complaining. It has been a good summer and I know a lot of that is because of NOT having a foot surgery (I've done that two out of the last four or five summers), because of HAVING a vacation, and because I have really LOVED the weather this summer.

I don't know why I've heard grumbling about cooler weather and a little rain. Most often Indiana in August consists of dead, brown grass and high heat and humidity. I don't think anyone can complain about some rain. We haven't had so much rain that we've had flooding. We've had the kind of rain farmers appreciate and need.

The cooler weather and low humidity have been great. There is nothing better than having windows open, especially at night when you can hear the crickets or cicadas, and can drift away feeling a cool breeze against your skin.

I look forward to a new bunch of students to experience, leaves falling, pumpkins, fresh apple cider, trick or treaters, bonfires and such.

Seasons change and I enjoy change. Being a teacher and experiencing the end of a school year, and then getting excited about starting again, is something people in other careers don't get to enjoy. I'd argue with anyone who says teachers don't work hard. Most of us take classes, read professionally and/or make plans for the coming year during the summer, but these little transitions that go along with the holidays and seasons are refreshing to the spirit.

When I am buying new things and making plans for a new school year, I always sense some wistfulness in my husband who just has to keep plugging along with not so many breaks.

Teaching through the seasons in Indiana is great. It won't be long before we are praying for a snow day though.

Another Parental Rite of Passage

2009-08-04T20:25:00.000-07:00

I just returned from a two-day orientation session for Mary at DePaul University in Chicago. Ed, Mary and I spent the first day together, and then they separated us for the second day, although I know many of the same topics were covered, albeit from two very different perspectives.

This is the fourth time we've been through a college orientation (and another milestone...it will be the last). While not all of them were at the same school, they do have a lot in common. The same things are covered...housing, transportation, scheduling, time management, getting banking set up, financial aid, and on and on and on. The real juxtaposition occurs when we parents sit in on sessions run by current student panels and staff, and are shown things through what I know (because I've been through this before) but other parents don't know (because they are first timers) are rose-colored glasses.

I wanted to stand up and say "Get real." a number of times when parents asked questions about co-ed dorms (which they pretty much all are now and have been for some time), having guests of the opposite sex in rooms (which has pretty much been allowed for some time), and the question which always comes up about alcohol use. I just want to say, "You've laid the foundation. If they want to make a poor choice, they are going to make a poor choice."

My philosophy is and has always been to build a strong relationship of trust with your children. If you do (or maybe I'm just lucky) they will come to you...they will come and tell you they screwed up, and it is usually after the fact because they are in some sort of trouble, or they just feel guilty about it, or they found themselves in a situation which they thought they wanted to explore and suddenly it frightened them. When they come to you, it is a time to ask them if they learned something. It is not a time to yell at them or impose an overly punitive consequence. Usually the experience is lesson enough.

That doesn't mean you have to smile and say "It's OK honey." You CAN express your disappointment and displeasure. It's such a balance. In one session the presenter asked parents to raise their hand if they had ever made a poor choice. I don't think there was one person who did not raise his or her hand.

I'm by nature an observer. I've always been on the quiet side in some situations. I like to stand back and just watch. I've learned from observing. I've seen parents do things and I've watched the results, and I've learned what not to do. I've told my girls from the outset that I am not their friend. Yes, they've said to me from time to time...so and so's mother and she are best friends. From my observations, nine times out of ten that girl is or will be in some sort of major trouble. I of course also tell them I'm not so and so's mother, I'm YOUR mother. I've told them there will come a time when we will be friends, and that is happening now, but not until they are through high school and possibly college (or close to it).

I am not overly punitive and strict. I probably should have been a little more so sometimes, but when I've watched the parents of some of my daughters' friends adopt a "no tolerance" stance on some issues, those are the very girls who live a lie when it comes to their relationship with their parents. They rebel. You have to give them some freedom. You trust them until they give you reason not to.

The dynamics of every family is different. Girls are different than boys, parents do things differently. No one is absolutely right and no one is absolutely wrong. Maybe my philosophy is partly born of who my children innately are, how Ed and I have learned to balance it all, not only in dealing with things about which we have disagreed (which is sometimes REALLY hard to work out or maybe you don't even really completely work it out), but also in dealing with the distinct personalities of our daughters, and the interrelationships that exist in a family of six.

There are moments when your children come to you to own up to something, or to express how stupid what someone else their age did was, and you look at each other with a look that says "We did something right." It is very affirming. One of those moments was at orientation when we gathered back with Mary and she mentioned how a couple of the guys in her group were so immature. "Mom, one of them actually asked the Dean of Students...the DEAN OF STUDENTS, 'So what happens if we get caught smoking weed?' They are so immature!" Unless Ed and I are THE most naive parents there are, I have to say we have THE most amazing daughters.

Poop!

2009-08-02T05:29:00.000-07:00

I don't think there is a picture I can attach to this one.

When I got going on this blog and gave it a name, my oldest asked me what Seshat was. I explained. She then told me it sounded sort of like the tongue twister about selling seashells by the shore. It sort of came out as Sheshat instead of Seshat. She told me it sounded like a sentence...She shat...which in turn sounded like the past tense of She shit.

When she told me that I thought maybe I should change it. But then....isn't that really what I'm doing...sh-i-t-t-i-n-g? After all, I'm "emptying" my thoughts, getting it all out of my system...you know what I mean.

What is coming out is another issue. Whether it has any value, I really can't say. It might simply be crap, but it makes me feel better.

Little Women Part 1: Background

2009-08-01T12:07:00.000-07:00

I will no doubt be writing more than one entry about how I've connected with Louisa Mae Alcott and Little Women through my life thus far. Little Women was one of my favorite books from around the age of twelve. I was introduced to this classic when my mother and father bought it for me for Christmas. That copy is long gone from overuse which isn't a bad thing, although it would be nice to have. I've owned several. I still own probably two or three different copies. First editions are nearly nonexistent and difficult to prove because copyrighting wasn't done in the same way. If I ran onto one that was a first printing or close to it, it would no doubt cost thousands of dollars.

I don't know what any of my readers may already know of Louisa and her family, but her father was a transcendentalist and they lived in Concord, Massachusetts. Orchard House is still there, is a museum, and I will visit one day. Their contemporaries were Emerson and Thoreau. If I could get one of those grants Lilly gives to teachers, I'd love to go there and study; maybe research how their lives crossed in light of the history of the time and whatnot if it hasn't already been done. Louisa's father wasn't financially successful apparently, spending most of his time studying and living his philosophy. Little Women doesn't really go into that part of their lives in great detail, but the book is very autobiographical. Everyone knows Jo is Louisa, and Louisa also had three sisters (Meg, Beth, and Amy in the book...not their real names).

Louisa was a writer already and when her publishers, Little Brown & Company, asked her to write a story for girls, she didn't want to do it. I'm glad she did. There are other books about the March family (Little Men, Jo's Boys) but they didn't capture me in the same way. She also wrote a lot of other things. Many I have yet to read, but am determined to do so. I believe she wrote the book in a relatively short period of time, sent it in, and it became an immediate success.

Like Jo in the story, Louisa wrote a lot of dramatic, mysterious types of stories, which weren't nearly the literary quality of the March family stories, and the book ends with....well, if you haven't read it, you should. I've lost count of how many times I've read it. I particularly like to pull it out around Christmas because the opening of the story takes place at Christmas with I think one of the best opening lines I've ever read, "'Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents,' grumbled Jo, lying on the rug." I suppose that is only because it holds so much meaning for me. Watch for more posts in the near future including how I experienced the book as a youngster, the movie versions, and more.

Not Tonight

2009-07-31T22:00:00.000-07:00

Mom, PPPLLEEEAAASSSEE...not tonight. You

were gone twelve hours today! We thought you

left for another vacation! Please don't blog

tonight. We're tired! We want to go to bed!

The Importance and Power of Punctuation

2009-07-29T07:32:00.001-07:00

Someone forwarded this to my husband today, and he forwarded it to me.

An English professor wrote the words:

"A woman without her man is nothing."

...on the chalkboard and asked his students to punctuate it correctly.

All the males in the class wrote:

"A woman, without her man, is nothing."

All the females in the class wrote:

"A woman: without her, man is nothing."

Writing and Teaching

2009-07-28T12:23:00.000-07:00

One of the reasons I started this blog was because of my love for teaching writing. Since I am an avid fan of a writer's workshop approach, it means I should be writing. The teacher must experience the process of writing in order to understand the student. My writing has been scattered.

Should I unexpectedly die, none of the writing I've done would make much sense to anyone. When my children were small I tried to write to keep a record of my experiences as a mother. I have four children. Need I say more? I didn't have time to be consistent. I have various journals likely buried in drawers, the attic, and who knows where (I don't). No doubt many entries were left without dates.

I've written a bit of poetry, but not for ten years or so. I need to pull it back out. Now that there is some distance from it (ten years should be enough) maybe I'll decide if it is any good. Most people I know who write poetry say their poetry is dark, that the best poetry produced is from the deep, dark self.

Hopefully whoever outlives me won't think I was a narcissistic depressed individual, just based on the snippets I've written. Aren't we all unhappy sometimes? Doesn't some of the best writing come from depressed people....Carson McCullers, Flannery O'Connor, Edith Wharton, Dorothy Parker, Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and William Faulkner, to name only a few. Maybe they shouldn't have ever been labeled as depressed, unhappy people. Maybe they should have been labeled as normal people who were brave enough to write.

So as I enter a new school year, I'm keeping up with my writer's notebook where I'll plant images, snippets of conversations, and observations to use for ideas. I hope also to keep this blog going, but I hope to write more than daily musings and experiences from my personal and teaching life. Maybe I'll plant a little poetry, a little fiction, and a little memoir right here.

I don't know what the rules of blogging are, if there are any. I don't know if mine are too long or too short, I haven't quite figured out how to label my posts into proper categories, but I'll keep reading and writing and try not to worry about exposing myself or offending someone, because I really really....I really must write.

Darkness

2009-07-28T07:11:00.000-07:00

We all have those days. I'm having one. I can recognize it because I've been there before, for a lot more than just a day. My emotions and thoughts are swirling. It's probably a good day to write a poem.

I'm worrying about someone...frustrated with her, but also worrying. Why can't I accept that I will not be able to change her, nor should I.

I'm angry about a couple of things outside of my control. I keep rationalizing with myself and trying to look at them from another perspective. I'm trying to tell myself to let it go.

I hate double standards. I hate it when people make assumptions about me.

I feel a little like I'm not good enough. I climbed out of that hole a long time ago and am trying not to fall back in.

Why am I not included? How do people see me? Why do I feel left out? Am I insecure or what?

I hate it when people think I have it all.

It must all be the post vacation blues.

Sensibilities

2009-07-24T08:31:00.000-07:00

This is an example of what your grown children can do to you...first they talk you into things by flattering you into thinking you are still young and hip....and then they record it and post it on Facebook.

This....from the same children who were worried about me going to watch the movie Hangover.

Obviously I don't have too much sensibility or I wouldn't post this, right? That's what happens when you are a betweener....you sometimes have trouble knowing exactly where you fit in.

Learning to Retreat

2009-07-22T14:21:00.000-07:00

It is officially the half way mark of our vacation, and I can see why Anne Lindbergh says in Gift from the Sea that you really don't start letting go, calming your soul, finding peace until the second week. While I am loving this place I am in, both geographically and spiritually, I can see why another week or more would bring even more of this feeling of calmness.

I think it takes a week to rid oneself of bills, laundry, work, housekeeping, and all the things that are burdensome. I do feel relaxed and calm but I can see becoming more so if there were more time to retreat.

To truly retreat I would perhaps come on my own, not blog, not check mail, not make plans. It was hard for Anne Lindbergh to let go of the same things that burden us as women especially, even in 1953. As I revisit Gift I am reminded how its wisdom crosses all generations. Decades have not changed its message and I doubt four or five more decades will either. In a way I believe it is even more difficult for us to retreat from the world, is easier to be lonely if alone, and to be challenged when withdrawing from the technology that constantly keeps us connected.

I've peeked into Gift just a bit while here. I couldn't remember if Anne used scallops as an example of one of the shells she used to inspire her writing. She did not. Scallops are everywhere on the beach and although I've picked up dozens, they continue to attract me. They are common but unique, like snowflakes I guess, or people. I find myself glancing down attracted by the variety of colors, a pale pink, orange, white, gray, or brown. I wonder where they've been, what they've experienced, how they've become who they are. Even the ones with barnacles attached are beautiful.

Most of the shell seekers on the beach are after that one prized shell, perfect and rare; I think I'd rather stick with that which is not fleeting, that which is still special no matter how common, that which has a story to tell.

Addendum

2009-07-22T14:17:00.000-07:00

As an addendum to Monday's post, I wanted to add that as Mom and Dad were sitting there on the couch I came in the sliding door from the balcony and said "Heh, how's it going?"

Mom's response was "Lilly has cancer." (referring to the soap she was watching).

Mam-maw and Pap-paw

2009-07-20T12:44:00.000-07:00

My parents... there they are.. they are so happy to be here and we are so happy to have them. They are wonderful people. And they are hysterical.

My dad doesn't get around so well and absolutely does need some help, but he is spoiled rotten. I don't know what he would do without my mother. I can't even tell you some of the things she does for him. You don't want to know. I can't imagine ever doing some of them for Ed. My mother is so used to doing everything for him that it has just become her culture. To some extent it has always been their culture, their norm.

The woman puts his food on his plate! He can't stand up and act like he is going somewhere without her immediately responding "What are you doing? Where are you going?" He sometimes acts half annoyed by it, but you can tell he is just pretending and that he actually enjoys every second of it. I think once in awhile she actually ought to ignore the fact that he is moving and see what he says. He'd probably be moving along with his cane or walker but looking behind him wondering why she wasn't saying anything. She follows him into the bathroom. You don't want to know...I don't want to know.

This morning he got off the couch to go sit outside on the screened porch and she immediately stood up behind him and asked the inevitable questions as mentioned above. Then she went to the sliding door before him and started asking him which chair he wanted to sit in. That one? This one? He pointed to "that one" and she proceeded to pull it out for him.

Oh, and this conversation just now took place while I was blogging:

Mom (standing next to him as he sat on the couch): I think I'll go down to the beach for a bit and look for some shells.

Dad: Ok.

Mom: Is that ok with you? It had better be...I did get your ice cream for you.

Dad: Yeah....uh....no, I don't think I want you to do that (joking).

Mom: Well you'd better. I'm going anyway.

So you see, half of this way of relating comes from her. Maybe more. I honestly don't hear him make demands upon her. She has just done everything for him for so long, it's her norm. It is way outside of my norm. You will rarely if ever find me putting food on a plate for Ed (although I did puncture and drain the blisters on the bottom of his foot this morning), and you will never find him asking me to do so. It would annoy the hell out of him. So while it is amusing, it also worries me. I can't imagine one of them functioning without the other.

I remember a time he used to make fun of her for being so addicted to soaps. Now he himself is an addictee. I know this because when they travel with us I get a sneaky peak into the lives they live at home on a day-to-day basis. When they aren't looking for their soaps, they are looking to see what "judge" shows are on TV. I heard dad whine this morning because he couldn't find Judge Matheson (whoever that is...so I don't know if I'm spelling it correctly).

Although Mom and Dad sit on the couch and watch soaps and judge shows, we do manage to make them get up and go. Ed took Dad this morning to rent a wheel chair so we could get him to some places which are difficult for him to reach...the beach, the pool, and whatever else we find on the island that might be a little on the inaccessible side for him.

They are so fun. Dad is ornery and likes to spend a lot of time teasing the girls, teasing Jon, and making up lies about me (or at least exaggerating the truth) when I was a child. And each and every night we are together, Mom and Dad (but especially Dad) want us all to line up and give them a hug and kiss goodnight. Dad hugs me, kisses me, tells me how much he loves me, and says thank you for the hundredth time for including them in our adventures.

As far as I am concerned they have been the best parents ever and they deserve to spend their time doing whatever they want.

What Day Is It?

2009-07-19T18:17:00.000-07:00

You know you are on vacation when you don't know what day it is. For that matter you often don't know and don't care what time it is either.

It is evening, it is dark. Ed just came in from the pool, sighed and said "What a great day." He got up early (I didn't) and walked on the beach. He learned that only locals can fitness walk on the beach barefoot because their feet have toughened up. He realized this when his feet started really hurting. He was getting blisters. The problem is that he had to turn around and come back...a long way back. He made it eventually and had to treat his blisters. Other than that, poor guy (the feet seem fine now), it has been a perfect day.

I was up late so I slept in a bit. The girls, Jon, and I left to see some of the island by car. We ate lunch at one of my favorite Sanibel spots, The Lazy Flamingo, where I of course had my first (and definitely not last) taste of grouper. We did a bit of shopping, returned to the condo and headed for the beach.

In the early evening the sky darkened a bit with clouds and a small (typical of Florida's gulf coast) storm moved through. The darkened sky made the water seem translucent and the color was an amazing cerulean blue. We watched from our balcony, took naps, and then returned to the beach for the sunset, shelling (it was low tide), and just strolling along an almost deserted stretch of sand. So peaceful.

After dark we moved to the pool which is as warm as a bath, finally came in, and had some pizza delivered for dinner. We are getting ready to begin our week long Skip-Bo tournament, of which I intend to be champion. Jon tells me otherwise. We'll see about that.

We Arrived...Vacation Blog

2009-07-18T20:52:00.000-07:00

Our travels from Indiana to the Gulf Coast were uneventful, meaning no car problems, no arguing (it helps to travel in two vehicles), just a normal, but long (worth it!) drive. Our condo is roomy and nice, looking out onto the beach.

After unpacking we walked on the boardwalk out to the beach. Mom and I strolled along the water's edge, already doing the "Sanibel stoop" to search for shells. Kelly, Erin, Mary and Jon donned their suits and jumped in that delicious warm water...not delicious tasting, but delicious feeling. It's warm, not cold like Lake Michigan, which is why I prefer the sea although it is salty.

It was early evening and a good time to spot dolphins, which we immediately did (Erin came to the shore line because she first thought that she imagined seeing a fin, and then she worried it was a shark rather than a dolphin). No worries of course. There were at least two of them, and they came in very close. They even jumped and played in the water a bit, splashing around.

The weather was unseasonably cool while traveling and only when we reached the Ft. Myers area and stopped for a break did we feel the typical Florida heat. It was actually quite pleasant this evening. Mom and I headed

to the grocery story for a few basics...you know....beer, vodka, tequila. It was late so we made a quick dinner of spaghetti and relaxed after two days of driving.

More to come...should I feel like it.

It is heaven.

Betweener

2009-07-17T20:33:00.000-07:00

I'm a boomer, but mostly I consider myself a betweener. I'm somewhere between my children and my parents. Right now it is a blessed time and a time to enjoy each and every moment at both ends of this strange spectrum.

My youngest of four will be leaving for college soon enough, and I suppose, as difficult as it is to say, I don't know how many more years my parents will have with us.

Last year we took an extended weekend trip with my parents because my father in particular cannot travel on his own. My mother has a driver's license but really doesn't drive much, and he can't do it on his own. It would be risky at this point for them to take off anywhere for long on their own. So my dad noticed in the AAA magazine a driving tour through a section of West Virginia. Ed and I decided to find a long weekend and made it happen. We had a great time.

That prompted us to invite them to travel to the gulf coast of Florida with us last year at the beginning of summer. As a child, my parents and some friends of theirs vacationed at a small family-owned motel on Madeira Beach. We went for years each summer. They became friends with the owners of the motel which turned into a years-long friendship. Their friends are retired now, my parents had not seen them in a very long time, and I know they just never thought they would return to Florida ever again. They were a little nervous about all the work it takes to prepare and withstanding the heat, but it worked and we had a wonderful time. Again, they (and Ed and I) really didn't know if it could happen again.

It is happening again. I am writing from somewhere near Macon, Georgia, on our way to Sanibel Island, Florida, a spot my parents actually have never visited although it is within two hours of the area where we used to vacation. I will try to report on our fun over the next few days. There are eight of us...three of our girls and a boyfriend. There should be lots to share.

I am so blessed and thankful to God to have my parents with me, particularly my father, since staying healthy has been a challenge for him for the past 27 years, when he suffered a heart attack shortly before Ed and I were married and in fact could not attend our wedding. That is another story for another time perhaps, but I am so grateful that he has been around to see the birth of all four of my children, seen them through grade school, high school, and into college.

My parents ask me why in the world I would want to drag them along, and all I can do is assure them that we truly want to do this with them and for them. It is giving us a great deal of pleasure to see them happy and enjoying themselves.

Bliss

2009-07-16T14:39:00.000-07:00

Bliss is....

going for a manicure when you rarely do it (and you play violin so can't usually do nails) and.....

going for a pedicure when you rarely do it (especially after having foot surgery on both feet) and...

doing it with your daughters.

Only one thing could have made it perfect....one more foot and one more hand. Are you listening Cate? We'll make it a fivesome one day soon...I promise.

Nature vs. Technology

2009-07-14T14:14:00.001-07:00

Let's get ourselves and our children reconnected with creation, the natural world. Last year I received a small grant to incorporate the theme of creation throughout my curriculum. It turned out to be an amazing experience, not just because I got a little money and from that some materials. It was an amazing experience because I know I learned as much as my students.

I've been teaching long enough now (over 10 years) to have seen a change in children. Part of the reason for the change is technology. I love technology; but at the same time technology is a tool and that's all. It allows us to do a lot of wonderful things we couldn't do. It helps us stay connected. It makes the world more accessible. It makes life easier. We don't need it. We would survive without it. But just like everything, there is a good side and a bad side to it. It shouldn't replace reading, pretending, and going outside to play.

I've watched six and seven-year-olds over the past ten years get more involved in things that I still thought would be reserved for at least middle schoolers. I've been out at a movie theater or grocery story and seen younger children with cell phones and iPods, and it obvious from my conversations with my students that most of them own some sort of game system.

In my classroom this year I was fortunate to have pretty good technology. I have a Smart Board and an Elmo, and it did make teaching easier. It helps with making learning very visible to my students. For instance, if I only had one copy of something I wanted to show them, I could just slip it under the Elmo instead of having to pass it around or make copies. Yet in spite of these tools I saw some of the down side. First, they have to remember to look at the Smart Board to see what I'm talking about. I sometimes observed them "not" looking where I wanted them to, so I knew they were either not listening or were focused on something else and had tuned me out. Listening is the second area of concern attached in a way to this first observation. Since what I am teaching from the Elmo or Smart Board IS very visual, they often DO tune me out and don't listen to what I am saying ABOUT what is on the screen. They are relying solely on the visual and not the oral.

What does this have to do with creation? Because I had all this new technology at the same time I received the grant, I had a sort of double edged sword on my hands. I enjoyed and will enjoy learning more about the technology, but I also made a great effort to get my students outdoors more often. I could tell being outside was a novel experience for some of them. When we launched this theme with a walk in the local park at the beginning of last year, you might have thought I was taking them to an amusement park; either that, or they were just excited because they don't normally get to do such a thing in a school setting.

I learned a lot from the year and have been reading about what is called "nature deficit disorder" in children. Although I won't get funds every year, I have plans to continue using creation/nature/environment as a theme in my classroom, keeping in mind the technology at my hands are great tools and should be used as tools.

The best thing I learned was the importance of immersion. By the end of the year, I received a lot of feedback from parents about how this project based teaching had taken hold of their children, to the extent that it carried home with them in the areas of recycling, conservation, and respect for the natural world, both plant and animal life. I feel I really only touched on the possibilities this past year, and want to continue branching out from there in the coming years.

SKUNKED!

2009-07-13T05:27:00.000-07:00

After not having slept well at all on Saturday night, I decided I would try my best on Sunday. I soaked in a nice bath for around an hour, reading my book, toweled off, put on my p.j.'s and climbed in. I ignored taking the dogs out, I ignored our guests, I just climbed in and continued reading. I was hooked on the book so did read for awhile until it became the normal bedtime, somewhere between 10 and 11 p.m.

Suddenly my husband bursts into the room with the dogs in tow (we have two...a mini-Schnauzer and a Goldendoodle) and asks me to smell Roxie (our Goldendoodle). Well, first of all he knows my smeller doesn't work well because he always smells odors I don't smell, so I sort of rely on him to decide if something in the pantry or refrigerator has gone bad. Initially I didn't smell a thing (of course), and then it hit me in the face. Roxie had been skunked.

My husband likes to let Roxie run off of her leash. We live on about an acre in a small town. We are in a neighborhood but there is a fair amount of wildlife around us. A railroad track runs along the back of our property and there is nothing but a field on the other side. We have quite a number of species of birds, I've seen deer, ground hogs, bunnies of course, and where those animals live, of course there will be raccoons, fox, possum, and (naturally) skunks around even if we don't see them.

So when he took them out one last time before bed, Roxie got skunked somewhere in the back of the yard. To be fair to him, Roxie doesn't run off when you let her run; at least not far. She has run a couple of houses away but is a bit of a wimp and doesn't stray far. She'll go further if the mini-Schnauzer (Captain) is also left off his leash to run (typically we don't do this). I will let Roxie and Captain (sometimes) both off their leashes and they chase each other around the yard, around the house, and Roxie is pretty good about staying around. If I can get her back on her leash, Captain will follow where she is. And with practice and training, they will get even better at not running off. Our neighborhood covenants don't allow us to have fences, so if we wanted to rein them in we'd have to get an invisible fence.

However, I NEVER let Roxie run off her leash in the dark. First, as mentioned she is a bit wimpy and shies easily. I wouldn't..ahem...want her to get into any trouble or see something (which may only come out at night...ahem) and take off after it. Second, why of all times would my husband assume I needed to be the one to determine whether Roxie smelled of something since he knows my smeller doesn't work well? That's what he said when he came upstairs to our bedroom..."Smell Roxie...does she smell?" Third, if he SUSPECTED she smelled of anything, why in the world would he bring her in, trailing skunk spray everywhere in the house?!?

So OF COURSE, just like he used to not want to clean up children who were throwing up, I basically sighed loudly, tossed my book aside, got up and threw on some old clothes and headed downstairs with Roxie. She was upset, maybe smelling herself, and by that time had not only gone in her crate and laid down on her cushion in there, but also came back out of her crate onto her doggie bed, so the smell was on those things as well. Through all of this of course, he's overreacting (what he usually does when in reality he is mad at himself, not me), and I'm overreacting to his overreacting.

I took Roxie downstairs, put her out on the porch and went to the computer to look up what to do about skunk spray, it never having happened to me before. Our guests were still up, probably from all the chaos going on upstairs. So much for their sleep. My sister-in-law first said tomato juice. I've heard that but wanted to be sure. (I did eventually find out tomato juice is not the answer). We googled it and my computer was being slow, so she actually called a friend in Taos where she is from to get her recipe.

What it took was a quart of hydrogen peroxide, 1/4 cup of baking soda, and a teaspoon of dish soap (the kind that says it removes grease). We had no hydrogen peroxide that I could find, and if we had any it wouldn't have been a quart, so I sent my daughter off to the store. In the meantime Roxie is upset on the porch, barking to get in, and probably still keeping our house guests awake. I had my daughter get 2 quarts of hydrogen peroxide.

After mixing up a batch of this recipe, I started scrubbing Roxie down head to toes. They say it can bleach the dog's fur, but Roxie is blond anyway and who cares. The poor thing was shivering since the night air was cool. I applied two batches to her, followed by a regular shampooing and rinsing, toweled her off, and my daughter (who was by that time helping me) took Roxie to sleep in her room. I then had to go upstairs and grab all her bedding and get it in the wash. Fortunately the daughter who had gone to the store for me also picked up another solution which is also supposed to remove skunk odor, so as the directions indicated I added a capful of that to my laundry detergent to wash Roxie's bedding.

You know how "they" say to never let the sun set on your anger? I don't think that's realistic and if you try to live by it, there is too much pressure on you to pretend you aren't angry when you really are. So if you can picture our king sized bed, my husband and I slept far apart and back-to-back. Sometimes it is better NOT to figure it out right then. Sometimes it IS better to just stay quiet and wait until morning. I don't know what time it was when I got to bed, and I don't want to know, but I did get what I wanted...I did sleep well once I got there.

Oh, and we slept with both the air conditioning running and the windows open. I've decided the only way to know for sure the smell isn't in the bedroom or elsewhere in the house is to remove myself and come back in later. Especially since.....my smeller doesn't work! By the way, we were both fine and laughing this morning, and my husband was being his sheepish self, the way he is when he knows he messed up! If he blogged, I'm sure his version would be very different from mine, but this is MY blog. Not only does he not do puke and not do skunk, he also doesn't read or write blogs, so I can say whatever I want..heh heh heh.

Picnic Season

2009-07-11T05:38:00.000-07:00

I always say I love cooking and entertaining even though I don't do it that often. I have over time become a bit of a cookbook addict. No, I don't usually go to that section if I'm at a book store, but I have made several purchases from a discount book seller who comes to my school. I've been trying to break this habit because I have a kitchen cabinet full of them. I also buy them when I travel.

Most of my favorite recipes come from friends, and I try to keep those in a special place. The recipes handed around are usually the best. There are, however, a couple of recipes that I have discovered in old cook books (now falling apart or marked with stains and spills from lots of use) that I hold on to.

Since I have company and more family is coming over for a cookout, I decided to pull out one of my favorites. We have an acquaintance who was once visiting when I served this recipe, and he complimented me on it; I took that seriously since he owned a couple of grocery stores in another town; not a grocery store chain like Marsh, Kroger, or Walmart, but a family owned business, so his stores had these wonderful international areas and amazing delis and bakeries. If he liked it, I thought it had to be a good one.

Old Fashioned Potato Salad
1 c. mayonnaise (not salad dressing like Miracle Whip)
1 T cider vinegar
1.5 t. salt
2 t. prepared mustard (if you like mustard potato salad, put in more of this and less mayo)
.5 t. celery seed
dash pepper
4 hard-cooked eggs, chopped
4 c. diced cooked potatoes
1.5 c. sliced celery
.5 c sliced green onions
.25 c. sliced radishes
2 T chopped parsley

Early in the day: In a large bowl, stir mayo with next 5 ingredients until mixed; add remaining ingredients and mix well. Cover and refrigerate.

It's pretty simple. The thing to watch is the potatoes. I don't like mine overcooked or they turn into mashed potatoes. If you like yours that way, of course, by all means cook them longer. I peel and cube the potatoes, get the water boiling, and pour them in. I just remove them and rinse them under cold water so they won't keep cooking. I like the potatoes to stay a bit firm.

It serves six, but I usually double it for a crowd, as there will be today. This recipe comes from The Good Housekeeping Cookbook, Copyright 1973. Maybe this same cookbook is reprinted and updated, but I haven't checked to see. Mine looks very used and the pages have come apart from the binding. I have to keep it together with rubber bands.

Today I'm adding to that a linguine vegetable salad, brats and burgers, and possibly a rhubarb/strawberry pie. Oh, and our guests will bring things to pitch in, so no telling what we'll end up with. Isn't it great the way food reminds us of places, people, and our childhood? The only thing I won't have that I miss from my childhood is homemade ice cream.

Now I'm just hoping it won't rain, but if it does, the guys will just grill in ponchos.

WANTED: G.E.E.K. (Gifted Eccentric Electronic Know-it-all)

2009-07-10T19:38:00.000-07:00

Lately I'm at a standstill when it comes to deciding what to do with all the old gadgets around the house. I guess it isn't about making a decision; it is more about actually knowing what to do with them, so I COULD make an informed and environmentally conscious decision. What I'm calling gadgets are the technologically related things that use to serve a particular function but no longer do because they are broken, e.g. cell phone chargers and/or old broken cell phones, iPods, laptop computers, hard drives from old computers that don't work (from which data needs to be extracted), and a variety of cables and cords.

I think it would be a great business idea for some technologically saavy persons (i.e. geeks) who are so familiar with all the gizmos out there that they could come into my house and organize them, tell me what to keep and what to dispose of; they would have to organize them in such a way that I could easily locate them and they would have to be labeled. Right now, I have in my basement an old computer we brought with us from our previous home, a couple of laptops from my husband's office, a couple of old laptops from a daughter who has graduated from college, a laptop that we purchased when we moved to the current house, but now won't charge up; and that's just computers. Of course with every gadget you buy there are numerous cables and it is hard for me to decide what belongs with what, what is important, and what could be tossed.

The way the prices have dropped on computers and other electronics, it is almost easier to throw away the old one and buy a new one. What is the point of spending $150 to repair a printer when I can go to Walmart and buy a new one for the same price or less. But then, what do I do with the old one? Is there an organization out there that will take all of this junk off my hands? If I just toss it, will it end up in a landfill? Do the materials put into these things break down, or will some future generation discover some deep dark secret about me? Even if I had any, what would it matter since my body would definitely be broken down by then? Would someone actually be standing in a landfill digging for information about dead people? If I don't miss what is stuck in the hard drives, how important can it be?

I think I'm going to start looking for someone to hire to take care of all this for me. Maybe such a business already exists. If it doesn't, I know what will happen. I know I won't be able to stand the stuff any longer, so I'll toss it. That means that on Saturday (following Friday's trash pick up) I'll suddenly need one of the things I threw out. Oh well, I guess I can just run to Radio Shack or Walmart and get another.

Conspicuous Consumption

2009-07-09T11:25:00.000-07:00

I don't think there is any hope for me. Last night I cleaned out a walk-in pantry and today the refrigerator. We've lived in our home less than five years, and I actually have completed both of these tasks a number of times. That means...when things are falling off shelves or out of the refrigerator when I open the doors. Another sign they need to be cleaned is when someone else in the family opens one of the doors and says "There's nothing to eat." even though both are crammed full. Oh, one more sign is when a guest in your home (particulary a friend of a teenage daughter...teens have no tact whatsoever...) opens the doors and mentions that they need to be cleaned out).

Well, it's done. And I have to live with a ton of recycling because the bin is full and I've had to resort to using another container to hold the surplus; the large garbage container is also full (I threw as much as I could into the garbage disposal, but you can't throw paper, cardboard, or non recyclable containers in a garbage disposal (hey, there's an idea of something someone should invent). The recycling will be picked up on Tuesday of next week and the garbage on Wednesday, so I have to live with it until then. I hope I sealed everything up tightly.

I'm marking this date on my calendar. I want to know if having let go of a lot the responsibilities that go along with being the mom of a high school aged child (FOREVER!) will make any difference in whether I have just one bag of powdered sugar in my pantry instead of five partial bags, or whether I discover things in my refrigerator I no longer can recognize.

All humor aside, I really do want to live in a way that avoids waste, especially when our country could probably feed the entire world.

An-ti-ci-PA-A-tion, It's Keepn' Me Wa-a-tin'

2009-07-08T07:56:00.000-07:00

The lyrics of that song have more to do with the anticipation of being with a lover than going on vacation, but I am suddenly feeling that great feeling of looking forward to something, our family vacation to Sanibel/Captiva Island, Florida. We took a trip to the Tampa/Clearwater area last year and it was great, but Sanibel is one of my favorite places.

One of my favorite books, Gift from the Sea, published in 1955 (my birth year), was written by Anne Morrow Lindbergh on Captiva Island. I discovered it around ten years ago and wish I had found it much sooner.

Gift can stand alone, but if you are interested in its background, I recommend Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Her Life by Susan Hertog, published in 1999. There may well be other books about her life out there, but I sense most of the material is focused on Charles Lindbergh. I loved reading about the way Anne was raised. Her mother was consistent at reading aloud to her and three siblings. (I have three siblings and my mother also read aloud to us regularly; I likewise have four children and reading aloud was extremely important in our home. Was I not meant to learn about Anne Lindbergh?) Once they outgrew being read to, the habit of reading to themselves and also writing on a regular basis came naturally. Anne's father was a lawyer (my husband is a lawyer). They obviously grew up in a household which placed value on education and held high standards of achievement. Anne's mother was active in promoting women's education. When I discovered Gift and also read her biography, I related so much to Anne, her life, and also her struggles. Any woman friend I know who has read the book relates to it, no matter what stage of life.

The flap of the biography states that Anne was "shy and sensitive, yet rebellious and ambitious." She had her own ambition, yet struggled with being caught up in her role as wife and mother, and what was expected of her. I didn't get the feeling she resented those responsibilities, but they are labor intensive, and we all know how easy it is to set ourselves aside. Of course Charles was in the limelight and I'm sure this made it even more difficult for her. It seems not many people know that she was a writer and also an aviator. Most only know of Charles' aviation record and of course the horrible events surrounding the kidnapping and murder of their infant son.

Gift from the Sea is poetic, simple yet deep, wise; it crosses time and space.

So I think I'll pull it out to take with me, knowing that when I search for shells on the beach, Anne Morrow Lindbergh might have walked the same path. I might even find time to reread her biography.

The area is governed well. It isn't Panama City. There are building restrictions on height, so you won't find high rises. There are restrictions on shelling. No live shells may be taken, yet there are piles of shells on the beach at low tide. Being a barrier island, the area is known for shells and you'll see people in a stance (bent over looking at the ground) called the Sanibel stoop. When in the water you can find many live starfish, sanddollars, and other shells to enjoy even if you can't (and shouldn't) take them. The area is also populated by sea turtles whose nests are marked and protected by law. The fauna and foliage are interesting and beautiful. The J.N. "Ding" Darling National Wildlife Reserve is located there as well and is part of one of the largest undeveloped mangrove ecosystems in the country.

There will be eight of us. Regretfully our oldest daughter, Caitlin, is out of the country and can't join us this year; but there will be other years. My parents, who can no longer travel easily on their own, will join us (a road trip with two vehicles). We plan on relaxing, enjoying the quiet and beauty, eating good seafood, reading, writing (I intend to) and playing some Skip Bo, Scrabble, and Phase Ten....and I mustn't forget the Bloody Mary's and Margaritas.

Ahhhh....an-ti-ci-PA-A-tion......

Cleaning/Decluttering

2009-07-07T07:40:00.000-07:00

For the ____th time (lost count) I am trying to follow a home maintenance/cleaning method that comes from a website you might (or might not, especially after you've looked it at) want to check out in detail. It's called Fly Lady and is a system of keeping your house clean. Like Weight Watchers I've signed up for it more times than I can count and have given up. I'm trying again. If you check it out, don't be overwhelmed by the information on the website. Just taking a few minutes each day will familiarize you with it.

The first thing to do is ignore most of it and follow the baby steps. Don't expect perfection or you won't do it. I skip some of the things, like leaving little sticky notes around the house for my husband, my kids, and myself, reminding us to do certain things. To me sticky notes add to the clutter of the place.

So just about three or four days ago, I started trying to get myself into a routine again. It's better to do this in the summer than when I am starting back to school. The first routines consist of things that normal people (who are not like me) do, such as keep the dishes out of their sink, make their beds, get dressed and put on shoes. Simple enough. Well, not really (not when you might roll out of your bed before your husband..why bother making a bed when you get home from work...note: maybe I should actually ask him to do it.) The first thing you do, and I think it is to impact you psychologically, is to clean your sink. Specific directions are given for this which amount to filling your sink up with hot water, adding bleach, letting it sit there, getting a sharp object to clean out the crud along the edges, etc., etc. Well, as hard as it is for me to admit it, there was an impact. Every day when I walk back and forth by that sink, it actually makes me feel good that at least that one thing is done.

They also recommend not sitting around in your PJ's until noon (drat, I was afraid of that). Well, that works too. It really does make you feel better to get up, get showered, put on your clothes, put on your face and so forth. But they are NOT going to take away from me a few minutes to sit and enjoy my cup of coffee, sit on the deck and maybe read the paper or a chapter or two. Oh, and you can't put on just any shoes; you have to put on shoes that tie so you won't be prone to kicking them off and sitting around. Not me, no sir. I've been through two foot surgeries in the past four or five years just to be ABLE to wear sandals and show off my painted toes, so the heck with that.

If you sign up for this you will receive numerous emails consisting of zone cleaning projects (which are pretty fast and can make a difference over a long period of time), and testimonials from other people (which I'm not interested in). The whole thing seems a bit OCD to me. The point of keeping an organized clean home is doing it without having to obsess over it and so you feel like you have lots of time for more interesting things (like writing in your Blog).

I can't figure out how these women, if they are keeping their homes clutter free and clean, possibly have time to run this massive website. The only thing I can figure, is that they actually have hired someone else to clean their homes and don't follow their own system at all. Check it out and let me know what you think. Above all, don't expect perfection. After all, perfection is no fun and boring.

An Adventure of Sorts, Part 1 and 2

2009-07-05T17:29:00.000-07:00

Part 1

This morning I left with Mary for a drive to CYO Camp Rancho Framasa in Brown County. We had received an email from the camp notifying us that a bridge on the road that takes us to camp was under construction and we would have to follow an alternative route. A map was attached and it it looked simple enough. When driving toward Nashville from Columbus, all we had to do was take Salt Creek Road instead of Clay Lick Road. The Salt Creek Road turn off and following it to come into camp from the opposite direction was clearly marked on the map you see here.

Looks simple huh? Well I turned off of State Road 46 onto Salt Creek Road and I drove and I drove and I drove. Not only did I drive, but I sure didn't drive in the way the dashed line indicates. I kept heading further north and further back east and I knew I was driving away from the camp, not toward it. By now we were a half hour or so late. I turned around. On the way back we didn't see the intersection of Salt Creek Road with Gatesville Road either.

I next pulled into the Shell Station (called Circle K on the map). The gal behind the counter told me she had no clue why they were sending campers "that away." She told me to get back out on S.R. 46 and keep going west toward Nashville. I'd turn right at Seasons (an inn), follow that road up a hill past the fairgrounds until I come to a T (I'm already getting worried). That T would be Greasy Creek Road...take a right onto Greasy Creek Road (really? Greasy Creek Road? See Part 2) until you come to a Y (first a T and now a Y), and veer to the right. That road should take me to camp (coming in from behind on the correct road, Clay Lick Road).

I asked her to repeat the directions to me again, and then I got a pen and paper and wrote them down (after she repeated them a third time). The directions actually worked and I didn't spend nearly as much time trying to get there via Greasy Creek Road as I did on Salt Creek Road. Now that I'm back, I wanted to show you what Salt Creek Road was really like; but first, scroll back up and look at that nice straight Salt Creek Road. Now check out my approximation of Salt Creek Road below.

Salt Creek Road (the one they told me to take) looks more like the road I've marked with dashes here. It winds and winds and winds. I felt like I was on the coast of Maine. Look along SR 46 to the west and you'll see my actual route (marked with circles).

When I got to camp (now more than an hour late) of course no one was around (except Angie the director) because it seemed I was the only idiot who couldn't find my way there. I apologized and left asap because of course, Mary was embarassed and I think wanted me out of there fast. I decided I was going to go BACK the way they told me to come IN and find this intersection of Salt Creek Road and Gatesville Road. I found it...no problem. If you'll look at the place I starred on the map....yep...uh huh...that's about the time I turned around and went all the way back to SR 46. I watched the odometer. It's about 6 miles from SR46 to Gatesville Road following Salt Creek Road. Yeah..yep...uh huh...I was about 5.5 or 5.75 miles north on Salt Creek Road. Sure 'nuff...if I had held out just another quarter of a mile or so, I would have come to the T.

After I took a second look at the map, I realized I should have known all along because whoever drew it, also shows Clay Lick Road (the normal route to camp) as a straight shot...NOT! Oh, by the way, when I finally did pull into camp from the north, the bridge that is right in the middle of camp is the one they are repairing, yes, but there was plenty of room on the other side to pull off and let Mary out. I could have taken the regular route anyway.

The story doesn't end here. Once I got back to SR 46 to head back east to Columbus, I got stuck in a long line of traffic...a complete stand still. I couldn't see far enough ahead to see what the hold up was, so I turned around and headed back toward Nashville and yep.....I WENT SHOPPING!!!! I got home around 6 p.m. this evening.

Part 2

To amuse myself through all of this, I just started being observant in and around Nashville and on my way home. I like to people watch, listen to conversations, and notice whatever I can for my writer's notebook. I just got to thinking about some of the names of things in southern Indiana. They really don't fit with the beauty of the surroundings. Between Columbus and Nashville you go through a place (which is a town I guess) called Gnaw Bone. Really...Gnaw Bone? What would it feel like saying on Jeopardy or Wheel of Fortune..."Yes, Alex (or Pat), I'm from Gnaw Bone, Indiana." There are also a lot of flea markets along the way, one of which is called Western 'Ho'.....no kidding, that's what it's called...Western 'Ho'....I don't even want to know.

The Un-Fourth of July

2009-07-04T19:45:00.000-07:00

I decided to wait until the entire day was over before posting my thoughts on this Independence Day. I kept thinking maybe something exciting would happen. This July 4 really didn't feel like July 4 at all. For one thing, it rained most of the day, and was cool and dreary. It felt more like Labor Day. Erin is out of town, Caitlin is out of the country, Kelly was vegging at her apartment, and Mary was packing to go to camp on Sunday. We didn't go to Ed's brother's place in Michigan or his other brother's place in the Dunes. We just stayed home.

Ed and I were remembering the way we spent many Independence Days. From the time the girls were very small we typically would go to his brother's place in northern Indiana on Lake Michigan (Ogden Dunes). We'd walk to the beach and spend most of the day there. The first year with children, Caitlin would have only been six months old, the next year I would have had 18 month old Caitlin plus a five week old Kelly. Physically I was exhausted, handling a toddler and being the nursing mother of an infant. Ed was there of course, but babies have such a physical need for their mother. I spent more time at the house than on the beach those two years.

After the day at the beach, we'd walk back to the house and have a cookout and all the other chaos/fun that goes along with such a big family. Ed is one of seven siblings, plus a lot of aunts, uncles, and cousins live in the "region" so it just goes with the territory. So you can imagine...sand everywhere, sunburns, food on the grill, yard games, fireworks not only in the yard, but back at the beach, and of course....mosquitoes. Mosquitoes in the area of Lake Michigan seem far worse than the ones in central Indiana.

While these were amazingly fun times and we made a lot of memories, I also haven't forgotten how exhausted I was as a mother. Before we were finished, we added two more daughters, and if anyone has experienced more than two children, you know it suddenly becomes exponential. Three or four children feel more like six or eight children. Just the thought of how we packed, prepared food to contribute, and got together all the things you need when you have young children....well, it tires me to think about it. Of course we were all having our families at the time, so there were kids and babies everywhere.

Sometimes my now nearly grown daughters say "Mom, I don't know how you did it." When I think about it, neither do I. I guess that's because I have the memories, but I'm remembering in the context of now being 53 and I can't imagine doing it now. I usually tell the girls, "I just did what I needed to do," and I think that's the way it is for a mother. You love them beyond words. Instinct kicks in.

Being in the middle generation of three generations, I'm also aware of how my mother and mother-in-law seem to have forgotten all about the hard work. My mother-in-law in particular will frequently comment about the fact that I am always doing something (she's talking about now, not when I was busy with babies) and that I never sit down. When she says this I find it perplexing because I'm not doing anything stupendous. I'm usually filling the dishwasher, making a simple meal, etc., but to her it seems like a lot. My goodness, she raised seven children, without modern conveniences. I guess it's all relative. I'm just hoping I avoid feeling that way for as long as I can. I'd rather be 80 something and still active with my memory intact.

For now I remember fondly all the fun, and while looking at pictures of the girls when they were little makes me melancholy, I also remember the sheer physical exhaustion that goes along with being a mother. I remember it both ways, and that helps me to not be sad about my girls growing up because there are good things about it. We have so much fun together now, they affirm to me each and every day that I did a good job, and the most of the exhausting times are over. It is extremely rewarding to watch them develop into women and there is a real sense of pride thinking I had something to do with who they are.

So this year it was the Un-Fourth of July. About the most exciting thing that happened was comforting one of my dogs when she was hiding from the fireworks under the bed. I've decided that's really okay.

Book Smart People

2009-07-03T18:22:00.001-07:00

Yesterday one of my daughters called me from the kitchen to say the dishwasher was leaking. I would consider this dishwasher new because we recently replaced the one that we purchased when building our house. When you are building a house, you try to cut every possible corner, and we didn't pick the highest grade of appliances. So I'm muttering a few choice things. I go to the kitchen and what I see is soap suds spewing out the sides of the dishwasher.

"Ok, who started the dishwasher?" It was another daughter who called from another room that she had.

"What soap did you put in it?"

"That liquid soap under the sink." (I'm thinking I didn't have any liquid dishwasher soap). I was right. I pulled out the bulk container of "dish" soap and asked her if that is what she used. By this time she had appeared in the kitchen (and I'm still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that someone besides me even started the dishwasher).

"Yes. That's what I've used before."

"No, it isn't. What you used before was liquid yes, but it was in a green bottle and it says 'Cascade' on the front."

In case you don't know, regular dish soap is made to produce a lot of suds. Dishwasher soap is absent that ingredient for the obvious reason. I wouldn't have known this except I remember the wife of one of Ed's law school buddies told us a similar story about her husband putting regular dish soap in the dishwasher and the mess it made. I really didn't grow up with a dishwasher, so might not have known that myself if I hadn't heard this story.

So, what is similar about these stories? Well, think about it. The man who did this to his wife was a law school graduate...he's smart. The daughter who did this to me graduated 13th in her class. She is going into the honors program at DePaul to study biology and chemistry, with possibly a minor in Spanish and/or Theater. She wants to maybe go to medical school. She just got a 4 in Calculus and a number of 3's in other areas on her AP exams and already has a good amount of college credit....she's smart.

There is another issue here. What does this say about me as a mother and how many times I've actually demanded that my daughter(s) do the dishes?

I'm now in the process of teaching her to do laundry, starting with the towels we used to sop up all the soapy hot water inside the dishwasher and all over the floor.

"But mom, this is clean water. Can't we just put the towels right in the dryer?"

Sleep and Other Things

2009-07-03T06:55:00.000-07:00

What is it? What is it about that when you get a little older sleep doesn't come as easily, or even if you do get it, you still feel as if you hadn't any. For the last two or three days I have been so lacking of energy, felt like a zombie, and have wanted to do nothing but sit in a chair. Even when I do move, on top of feeling tired, my body hurts, my feet hurt...blah, blah, blah, whine, whine, whine.

Yesterday I talked to an acquaintance of mine and happened to ask...have you felt different the last couple of days, and I got a resounding yes as a response; so maybe it is the lack of sun, a change in the air pressure or something like that.

All I know is that I hate it, because summer just is so short and it is already July. I have a ton of house projects I want to get finished. I have house guests coming in just a few days, so that will motivate me to at least have things neat and cleaning looking (even if I know there are drawers and closets stuffed full). Following that we are heading to Florida for a week. After that I'll have to start getting ready to go back to school. Unbelievable. And I say this every year. It's just the way it is, and I have no control over the way it feels. Wish I did.

So I guess I'll go take a vitamin or something and stop whining. At least Ed took the dogs out this morning and the sun is shining. He's playing golf, so I can work on the things on my agenda, not his (and that's another story).

Discoveries

2009-07-02T12:21:00.000-07:00

I never stop learning new things about my children. Here are just a few. I can add more to the list later I'm sure.

One daughter nearly had another convinced she was adopted.

They used to hide behind the couch with an open container of cake frosting and spoons.

They used to pretend under the dining room table. That I knew, but I didn't know to what extent until recently when dusting the table legs I found numerous stickers on the underneath side of the table top. They are from years ago. Now you know how often I dust the table legs, or even if I do I rarely look up.

Even within the past few years, they managed to lose the location of an Easter egg. Even after the rotten smell reached its peak, I had trouble finding the source. Eventually I found an egg, dried up and past being odorous inside the chandelier hanging in the dining room.

On occasion one would decide to run away from home, pack a suitcase and head down to street with the intention of going to Mammaw's house (who lives much further than walking distance). I'd just let her head out (with a watchful eye). She came back because she was hungry.

I'm sure I'll continue discovering things and adding to this list.

The Paradoxicalness of Mother/Daughter Relationships

2009-07-02T04:20:00.000-07:00

Number two daughter, number four daughter (the youngest) and I went to an R rated movie last night. There had been some discussion about whether mom would like this movie, especially by number three daughter who thought not. She I think wanted to protect my sensibilities.

I didn't really feel like going to a movie that was to start at 11 p.m. I had a bit of a headache and was tired. But being a mommy, and having been invited to a late movie by number two daughter who no longer lives at home, I wondered if perhaps she was restless and needed my company. Being the mommy I am, I agreed to go.

So I put on a half pot of coffee to get a cup in before arriving a half hour later at the theater, thinking I'd never stay awake. "Oh mom, this isn't a movie you could fall asleep to." The movie? Hangover. I laughed through the entire movie and all the way home. No worries number three daughter. I can't say I am always in the mood for that sort of movie, but my daughters have managed to include, or at least influence, their father and me to see such movies in the genre of Hangover, 40 Year Old Virgin, and Knocked Up. I can't say they are my favorite types of movies, and I can't say I'd see them without my daughters' influence, but what is the point of all this?

It's a surreal experience, a weird juxtaposition, a dichotomy. I'm not sure any word or phrase accurately describes what it feels like to view such a movie with someone I pushed out of my body and watched take the first breath of life. The same thoughts occur when we are in a bar or restaurant drinking a glass of wine with the two who are of age, or having one of them join my sister (their aunt), a former roommate of mine and me for a girls' night. While I can't really ever get past the strangeness of it, I celebrate that for now I am enthusiastically included. I'm not sure that will always be the case, and I'm flattered that they seem to enjoy my company and want me around. They talk to me about anything and everything.

When it comes to their father, it is even more strange and actually difficult for him. More often than going with the girls, Ed would see the movie with me separately at their encouragement. If they were with us, he would likely be covering his eyes or ears and not really see it. There is something inexplicably difficult for him to even be in the room with them when certain things are discussed (like women's natural body functions...the girls used to refer to it as "Aunt Martha visiting.") He'll squeeze his eyes shut, put his hands over his ears and drown out the discussion by singing loudly. But for now, I'm one of the girls, one of them, and I will bask in it for as long as it lasts.

I wonder what stage will come next; probably I'll be asked to babysit so the sisters can go out together. We aren't even close to that yet, but when it comes, I'm sure I'll enjoy that just as much.

People Are Never What You Think

2009-07-01T06:36:00.000-07:00

I just finished reading a biography of Stephen King, Haunted Heart, written by Lisa Rogak. I really only picked it up because I'm participating in my library's adult summer reading program which involves following a bingo list of various genres. It is managing to stretch me as a reader.

I was a huge fan back in the day of Carrie and The Shining, but fell away as King's novels became more gruesome and less "ghost story" to me. King is nothing like I, or my friends who were also fans, thought. We assumed he had to be a bit twisted to come up with his stories, and he sure looks that way; I discovered he has pretty much been labeled that way. After you read this biography his appearance becomes that of a gangly, goofy, and nerdy type of guy...a regular guy; he just happened to love horror films starting with the 50's classics and was writing stories for his classmates and his mother (who paid him a quarter for each one) at a very young age.

Except for the fact that his father literally went to the store to buy a pack of cigarettes and never came back, and aside from the fact that he did struggle with addiction for many years, he could live next door to you. As far as his writing goes, my inference after reading the bio is that he struggled a bit with not being as accepted into the "literary" circles as were other authors; but it seems he eventually gained that respect at least some of the time.

He was prolific no doubt, and I remember losing respect for him when he published book after book after book. Apparently, he really was just a writer whose work just naturally poured out of him. It was his process. Achieving financial success had to have been a great thing for him and thus his wife (who is also an author), and his three kids (two of whom are writers), after the life of extreme poverty he himself endured as a youngster. There were a number of times when he appeared and was paid, and gave the money right back; or published something new, only to give the proceeds to charity. He was a dad who coached his son's baseball team, and he gave the money to build a nice place for them to play in Maine where they live (part of the time).

He has a great sense of humor even in the midst of the macabre. I think that comes out in his stories...and you have to respect his story telling ability and imagination even if you don't like horror (which by the way isn't the only thing he writes). One of the funniest moments in Haunted Heart is when he is recuperating from the accident which nearly killed him; the nurses on duty were strictly told NOT to make any Misery jokes as he lay in bed waiting for his severely damaged leg to heal.

Reading about him also reminded me of my feelings about how middle Americans aren't really heard (previous post). He was someone who protested the Vietnam War which at the time was a rebelious thing to do, yet all along he has had rather conservative values in some ways. His daughter is a lesbian, yet his conservative side obviously didn't interfere with his acceptance of her. He isn't one of those conservatives. One of my favorite things he said is in reference to God.

"The idea of using God as a character in Desperation was the engine that made the book go. While I don't see myself as God's stenographer, He's always been in my books. It depends on the people I'm writing about. So I thought, what if I treat God and the accoutrements of God with as much belief, awe, and detail as I have treated evil. Some people say the God stuff really turns them off, but these guys have had no problems with vampires, demons, golems, and werewolves in the past. I've always believed in God. I also think that the capacity to believe is the sort of thing that either comes as part of your equipment, or at some point in your life when you're in a position where you actually need help from a power greater than yourself, you simply make an agreement to believe in God because it will make your life easier and richer to believe than not to believe. So I choose to believe."

I'm now inspired to go back and try many (and there is a lot) of the things I've missed from him, as well as try some of the things his wife and sons have also produced.

http://www.stephenking.com/index.html

Husbands and Common Sense

2009-06-30T20:10:00.000-07:00

Those two things don't always go hand in hand. For the most part, I just let my spousal unit believe he is in charge, wise, and oozing with common sense. I've learned that it really accomplishes little to do other than let him go on applying his lawyerly logic to human relationships. I have occasionally tried to point out lawyerly logic doesn't work when it comes to human relationships (nor does any form of logic for that matter). Any success I achieve at convincing him I'm right and he is wrong rarely happens in the moment, but only after he has had time to process.

When it comes to his reaction to any potentially heated issue, I have learned two things. First, he will always react opposite to my expectations. Second, I have learned to "introduce" the topic to him, let him react to it in whatever way is his path of least resistance, and then let it smoulder for a couple of days before moving him along to my way of thinking (which he knows is inevitable anyway).

A perfect example is the issue of his sister staying at our home and caring for our two dogs while we are on vacation. I had this arranged with the daughter of a friend who loves animals and house sits. Those plans changed when his sister called to say that she and her son would be flying in from out of state for the purpose of having our nephew's ACL surgically repaired. Could they stay at our home for recuperation? Absolutely, and even better my sister-in-law will be here while we are on vacation so she and her son will have the place to themselves. She'd be more than willing to take care of our pets, flowers, etc.

Coincidentally, I've been allowing our two dogs to sleep outside of their crates since they are housebroken. One of the dogs has been doing fine. In fact, Roxie willingly goes into her crate to sleep, even though I have provided her with a bed outside of the crate. It's her den and she clearly prefers it. The other dog does not particularly like his crate. He has relished in having a soft doggie bed (next to me on the floor) to curl upon at bedtime. However, he also has been getting me up either in the middle of the night to go out, or rather early in the morning (earlier than I want to get up as a teacher on summer break). I've heard my husband say on a couple of occasions that "You are going to have to get him trained not to do this while my sister is here." He has also mentioned moving their crates out of our bedroom and into our basement (as far away from our bedroom as is possible) while my sister-in-law is here (and using our bedroom) so as not to inconvenience her.

Well, I have let it go for a few days, and then when walking the dogs together at the park yesterday, finally brought it up. "....uh, about this issue of Captain getting up....." I reminded him that Captain was being a good boy by letting me KNOW he NEEDS to go out; better than the alternative. Then I reminded him that we are talking about dogs, not children (who by the way I couldn't suddenly potty train in anticipation of going on vacation either), and that his sister did agree willingly to take care of our pets (I doubt she realizes what she is getting into).

Finally, I let him know that I would be more than willing to go ahead and have our dogs boarded at an excellent kennel where they would have a suite, lots of room to run, people playing with them, their area cleaned daily, and so forth....at a price. That last bit I think made all the difference. His response was to be very agreeable and say "Oh I know...she agreed to take care of them and so will have to deal with them as they are." I was hoping he would actually tell me to have them boarded, where I know they would get attention and be loved, not just tolerated. I'm not sure my "logic" worked this time.

The Visit

2009-03-31T06:25:00.000-07:00

I was as stressed as I could ever remember being. I can't justify it. There are worse things to be stressed about. I was last-minute cleaning during the holidays the night before the staff Christmas party at my house. I hadn't procrastinated. It was just busy as holidays, especially Christmas, are. I simply hadn't had time to get to it. My heart was racing and I felt on the verge of an actual anxiety attack. Not having ever had a real anxiety attack, it's what I imagined it to feel like.

My mother-in-law was also visiting. That is only an issue because I'm someone who can't operate the same way when company is in the house. She's feeble and can't do anything, but her presence, hovering and asking me regularly "What are you doing now?" added to my anxiety. My daughter, Erin, was home from college for the weekend, and she and her boyfriend Jon were also there; actually, they saved me. They were jolly and pitched in. Jon kept saying in his Jon way..."It's all for YOU!" in a rap sort of way. My husband finally left to take his mother back to her place, so that helped. Erin and Jon were hanging garland on the stairway and encouraging me that we'd get it all done. I hated Erin hanging back and having to leave late to get back to school.

I don't remember now exactly where everyone was when it happened. Maybe Erin and Jon had finished and left. I know at least that I was alone in the kitchen cleaning the wood floor when I felt it. I felt a hand on the middle of my back. I didn't hear a voice, but I felt a voice. The message was that everything would be fine and I should calm down. My reaction was exactly as anyone's would be if someone had come up behind them, as if Erin or someone had a question or something to say to me. I stopped mopping, stood up straight, and turned to see who was there. No one. I wasn't frightened exactly. I may have gasped a bit, as you do when someone approaches you from behind and you didn't expect anyone there. I was taken aback, did a sort of double take.

I immediately thought of Maggie, my former principal who died unexpectedly the previous year. She meant a lot to me. She had the gift of making everyone she was with feel they were special and important. She never seemed focused on herself. She is who I believed was there. It was a school staff party after all. I didn't think it up. I didn't wish it to be. It's just who I thought of spontaneously. I kept it to myself for months. I eventually shared it with Erin.

I don't know if it was Maggie. Maybe it was my guardian angel. I believe in angels, and maybe they make you think what you think. Maybe to me my angel needed to be Maggie at that moment in time. The questions don't really matter. I needed something, I needed comfort and encouragement, and there is no doubt in my mind that I was visited and given a gift. It was the second time in my life I was aware of being visited.

No One Knows It All

2009-02-08T13:11:00.000-08:00

This morning I was on my way to church (the desire to write something comes at the most inconvenient times) when I decided (after reading the Sunday paper, what there is of it in Indianapolis) that no one should start any editorial type of writing without saying "I don't presume to be completely knowledgeable, but...."

The older I get, the more I realize how little anyone really knows about anything. Even those, especially those, who have strong opinions have a skewed outlook based upon their philosophical or political bent. Our brains tend to filter out the sort of knowledge that might actually make us look at things differently and change our minds. We close ourselves off from it. We avoid it. We rant and rave and evade anything that might make us stop and say..."oh." Not only do we do this, but we condemn anyone who would dare disagree with us. This is why, politically and otherwise, I consider myself a (gasp, dare I admit it) fence sitter, and someone who does not like to be associated with a particular political party.

Fence sitting is something that traditionally has not been looked kindly upon. I will be the first to admit that when there is someone in the media, a blogger, a journalist, etc. who I particularly respect for his or her thinking and approach to an issue, someone with whom I happen to agree, it is easy to place that person in high esteem. Even when I find it hard to be objective, at least I can admit it. The problem with most of what I see out there on television, radio, and the newspaper, is that no one can admit that they might be wrong. I watch both sides...liberals and conservatives...and I see such hypocrisy...equal hypocrisy...and neither side will admit it.

Take the issue of the economy. The current, brand new administration, especially during the campaign, blasted the right for causing the current economic mess. Can anyone actually say that this whole mess is the fault of the previous administration? And I've seen it go the other way as well. I don't believe the current administration is out to, when we aren't looking, turn us into a global economy, or a socialist or communist nation. Let's all just be willing to admit that we don't know it all...I don't know it all, our President (whoever he or she is in the past, now, or in the future) doesn't know it all; for sure neither Bill O'Reilly or Al Franken know it all....Bill just makes me cringe, and I just can't look at Al without laughing.

I really think there ought to be a new party called Middle Americans. We should take over the media so we can get rid of the impression that if you are a liberal you are a communist, take advantage of the system, want an easy ride, etc., and that if you are a conservative, you are an abortion clinic bomber, good ol' boy, white ango-saxon male chauvanist pig.

I for one don't want to be associated with either side and I think most Americans would probably agree, but "I don't presume to be completely knowledgeable."