Here's my top ten list of things that happened this year:
1) The Reenactor got a different job at his company. This means after nearly 12 years of marriage I don't have to look forward to him working shift hours on nearly every holiday weekend, being called in because something broke, then not coming home except to sleep for two weeks, and his general angst and unhappiness in his former job. He is now stictly an administrative office geek, and we all saw a difference in him immediately.
2) T2 started kindergarten. In spite of the fact that I still hate to have him and T1 gone from the house so much, it is a new day for me to have time during the day to get some things done.
3) Our vacation to Disney. Okay, I complained long and loud about it in earlier posts, and I still think the whole thing is vastly overrated, but the kids did have fun, and it was a joy as a parent to watch them experience it.
4) My trip to NOLA to help with Katrina relief. Even though it makes me angry to my core that so many people are still without adequate shelter and assistance repairing their homes three years after the fact, it was both educational and rewarding to work with such good people who are actually living there and living this nightmare on a day-to-day business. I was so honored to meet Rev. Vance and Fred from C of C. They have a special box of admiration all wrapped up under my tree.
5) Getting the bathroom (s) and kitchen remodeled. Even though our house has been been a complete mess for most of the year, we are getting it together and cleaned up now, and we are happy with the results. Now we're going to sell it!
6) Finding out that I really have good friends as I struggled through some mystery illness/condition for several months last spring. I still don't know exactly what happened to me, but I suspect it was a combination of a too-intense antibiotic mixed with some other meds I was taking at the time to relieve a severe ear infection; mixed up with the stress of The Reenactor's workload (at the time) and many other things. Whatever it was, it was a nightmare. My friends stood by me, and were so supportive. Thanks to you all.
7) Realizing I can say no. And that is my theme for 2008....saying "no."
8) Discovering even more wonderful state parks in So. Ill. Beautiful trails, close to home, all good!
9) My brother moving back to MO. I cried when he called to tell me, and now that we got to spend part of both Thanksgiving and Christmas at his excellent new home, I realized just how much I needed to have more family living in the Ozarks. Sisters, take a hint! We need to all live closer together!
10) T1, T2 and The Reenactor. I hit the jackpot with all of you.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Saturday, December 29, 2007
3 gen
Happy birthday to my son, the finest boy I know. Happy birthday to me. I'm just turning 39, again. Happy birthday to Howard. Out there somewhere he's enjoying the best chocolate cake in heaven.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
the phone call
I ask for your endulgence as I go in a very personal direction today. After my father died a couple of years ago a friend of mine--who had lost her mother the month before--told me that as I grieved I would go for weeks feeling fine, then I would get "zinged" out of nowhere and find myself crying about my parents. Now that both my parents are gone I do find that often I will have a Mom or Dad "zing" out of nowhere and it cuts to my core.
Last weekend I was visiting family in Missouri and had the opportunity to go to a party where there were many people from my hometown. Most of these people were several years older than me, but I remember them from church and school activities of my youth, and it was great fun to talk to them. At one point a woman I don't know or remember, when finding out my maiden name, said, "oh I had your Mother as my teacher in fourth grade." I immediately got "zinged" when she said that. My mother taught school in a one-room schoolhouse in a rural part of our county before I was born. It is very unusual for me to meet one of her former students. The woman continued, and told me that my mother was an "awesome" teacher. A while later I met a man I personally didn't know, but recognized his name. When he asked who I was and I told him who my parents were (in trying to figure out the hometown family tree) he said that my dad had been a regular customer at his tractor parts store for years. He said that my dad was one of the finest men he ever met, and that he (my dad) always treated him with nothing but courtesy and respect.
What those two people didn't know is that they gave me the best Christmas gift I got this year...a new memory of my parents.
Later, at my brother's cool new/old house, I got another "zing" just standing next to a piece of furniture that belonged to my parents, and now has pride-of-place in the dining room at The Edward's home. As long as I can remember this desk/hutch served sentry over family meals and gatherings in our childhood home. It held my mother's collection of cookbooks, and the cubbyholes in the desk were full of her notes to herself, and an odd assortment of snapshots. The drawers had a peculiar wood/musty/barn smell to them when pulled out that is seared in my memory. The first time I visited The Edward's house at Thanksgiving I pulled out one of those drawers just to smell it. Still smells that way.
That piece of furniture is once again standing over our family meals, and I find great comfort in that.
On the last night we were in MO I had this moment where I was thinking of what would happen if I dialed my parents' old phone number. It hasn't been in service for three and a half years. Would someone answer? What if someone answered and sounded like Mom? I thought about what it would be like to dial that number and hear my mother answer. For the record, I didn't dial the number...I'm not that far gone...but it was something I mulled over for a long time.
Then the day after Christmas I was listening to NPR, and Writer's Almanac was on. I haven't heard W.A. in a long time, mostly because it is on exactly when I'm taking the kids to school, and I'm ususally listening to XMKids on that drive. On Wednesday Garrison read a poem by Grace Paley called "I needed to talk to my sister..."
Here's the poem:
I needed to talk to my sister
talk to her on the telephone I mean
just as I used to every morning
in the evening too whenever the
grandchildren said a sentence that
clasped both our hearts
I called her phone rang four times
you can imagine my breath stopped then
there was a terrible telephonic noise
a voice said this number is no
longer in use how wonderful I
thought I can
call again they have not yet assigned
her number to another person despite
two years of absence due to death
(I copied this from the W.A. website...here is the copyright info:)
from Fidelity. © Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2008. Reprinted with permission.
Last weekend I was visiting family in Missouri and had the opportunity to go to a party where there were many people from my hometown. Most of these people were several years older than me, but I remember them from church and school activities of my youth, and it was great fun to talk to them. At one point a woman I don't know or remember, when finding out my maiden name, said, "oh I had your Mother as my teacher in fourth grade." I immediately got "zinged" when she said that. My mother taught school in a one-room schoolhouse in a rural part of our county before I was born. It is very unusual for me to meet one of her former students. The woman continued, and told me that my mother was an "awesome" teacher. A while later I met a man I personally didn't know, but recognized his name. When he asked who I was and I told him who my parents were (in trying to figure out the hometown family tree) he said that my dad had been a regular customer at his tractor parts store for years. He said that my dad was one of the finest men he ever met, and that he (my dad) always treated him with nothing but courtesy and respect.
What those two people didn't know is that they gave me the best Christmas gift I got this year...a new memory of my parents.
Later, at my brother's cool new/old house, I got another "zing" just standing next to a piece of furniture that belonged to my parents, and now has pride-of-place in the dining room at The Edward's home. As long as I can remember this desk/hutch served sentry over family meals and gatherings in our childhood home. It held my mother's collection of cookbooks, and the cubbyholes in the desk were full of her notes to herself, and an odd assortment of snapshots. The drawers had a peculiar wood/musty/barn smell to them when pulled out that is seared in my memory. The first time I visited The Edward's house at Thanksgiving I pulled out one of those drawers just to smell it. Still smells that way.
That piece of furniture is once again standing over our family meals, and I find great comfort in that.
On the last night we were in MO I had this moment where I was thinking of what would happen if I dialed my parents' old phone number. It hasn't been in service for three and a half years. Would someone answer? What if someone answered and sounded like Mom? I thought about what it would be like to dial that number and hear my mother answer. For the record, I didn't dial the number...I'm not that far gone...but it was something I mulled over for a long time.
Then the day after Christmas I was listening to NPR, and Writer's Almanac was on. I haven't heard W.A. in a long time, mostly because it is on exactly when I'm taking the kids to school, and I'm ususally listening to XMKids on that drive. On Wednesday Garrison read a poem by Grace Paley called "I needed to talk to my sister..."
Here's the poem:
I needed to talk to my sister
talk to her on the telephone I mean
just as I used to every morning
in the evening too whenever the
grandchildren said a sentence that
clasped both our hearts
I called her phone rang four times
you can imagine my breath stopped then
there was a terrible telephonic noise
a voice said this number is no
longer in use how wonderful I
thought I can
call again they have not yet assigned
her number to another person despite
two years of absence due to death
(I copied this from the W.A. website...here is the copyright info:)
from Fidelity. © Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2008. Reprinted with permission.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
the Birds
We were overtaken Sat. by a herd of black birds. My guess is that there were thousands in this flock, and were probably heading through our area ahead of the big snow/ice storm that was north of us. It was a bit Hitchcock-esque watching them all land in the yards around us, virtually covering the ground with a mass of black, chirping, squawking movement.
Our cat was about to lose her mind watching them. She was running from window to window and twitching with energy to get out there and hunt.
Click on the photos to see them a bit larger, and you get a better idea of how many there were.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Peace on Earth
Last night at bedtime T1 asked me in a hushed, tearful tone if we were going to be bombed. "Do bombs happen here?" she asked.
It's one of those gut-clenching parenting moments, when you hover on the precipice of being honest, or being cheerfully dishonest. T1 is no fool, and she is very tuned in to things she sees or hears at school, or from friends, so I have to be careful in my approach to such a question.
I asked her why she was asking, and it turns out that while helping me find a "write a letter to Santa" website, she had briefly seen the CNN website, with a photo and headline of a car bombing in Algiers, and because she is really getting good at reading, was able to make out two words..."car" and "bomb."
I explained to her that the photo she saw was taken on the other side of the world, and not close to us, but my mind was thinking of the fact that somewhere in Algiers, or Iraq, or Isreal, a child just like T1 was asking her mother at bedtime why a car blew up outside her school today, or why her friend was killed when she went grocery shopping with her daddy.
T1 asked me why do people have wars. I was tempted to launch on a tirade against presidents who knowingly send our soldiers into a country where we have no real quarrel to start a war that never should have been started, but it was late, and I didn't want to keep the poor child up for hours while Mommy ranted.
This is a question that when you look at it from the simplicity of a child's perspective is something every person should ask. What good does it do? What possible good comes from bombs? It is so sad that 2000 years after Christ was born--bringing the message of peace and love to all of us--we are still keen to senselessly kill one another.
T1 asked if she or T2 would ever have to be soldiers. God help us all, I hope no mothers have to send their children to war by the time they are grown up.
It's one of those gut-clenching parenting moments, when you hover on the precipice of being honest, or being cheerfully dishonest. T1 is no fool, and she is very tuned in to things she sees or hears at school, or from friends, so I have to be careful in my approach to such a question.
I asked her why she was asking, and it turns out that while helping me find a "write a letter to Santa" website, she had briefly seen the CNN website, with a photo and headline of a car bombing in Algiers, and because she is really getting good at reading, was able to make out two words..."car" and "bomb."
I explained to her that the photo she saw was taken on the other side of the world, and not close to us, but my mind was thinking of the fact that somewhere in Algiers, or Iraq, or Isreal, a child just like T1 was asking her mother at bedtime why a car blew up outside her school today, or why her friend was killed when she went grocery shopping with her daddy.
T1 asked me why do people have wars. I was tempted to launch on a tirade against presidents who knowingly send our soldiers into a country where we have no real quarrel to start a war that never should have been started, but it was late, and I didn't want to keep the poor child up for hours while Mommy ranted.
This is a question that when you look at it from the simplicity of a child's perspective is something every person should ask. What good does it do? What possible good comes from bombs? It is so sad that 2000 years after Christ was born--bringing the message of peace and love to all of us--we are still keen to senselessly kill one another.
T1 asked if she or T2 would ever have to be soldiers. God help us all, I hope no mothers have to send their children to war by the time they are grown up.
I'm not alone!
My niece emailed to me a website link last night, from a commecial she had seen on her local television newscast. I am so thrilled to find out that there is an entire website devoted to the same angst over WM that I have shared with all of you in this blog for nearly a year. At first glance it appears to be chock full of information about WM's terrible employee compensation, dependence on manufacturing in China, and other just crappy ethical behavior, to KEEP THOSE PRICES LOW.
Here's the link:
http://wakeupwalmart.com
Here's the link:
http://wakeupwalmart.com
Saturday, December 8, 2007
the Happiness of Bubble Lights
Since my Christmas lights are out of reach in the dark recesses of our storage shed, and I've got too many other commitments this year to spend much time trying to get them out, I went ahead and bought all new lights for our new Faux Christmas tree this year....first one ever for me. I've always been a purist when it comes to Christmas trees, and purchased "live" (actually "dead" since they had been cut down) but this year a friend turned me onto a deal I couldn't turn down...a $20 artificial tree at a surplus place here in my town. The tree actually looks remarkably good, and since I need a decent tree this year, with no wilting, browning of limbs, or whatever, I bought it.
So anyway...I went to a big box store (NOT WM!!!) to buy lights, and there, in the midst of all the lights were bubble lights. The good old "retro" lava-lamp bubble lights. My brother has had them on his tree for years, and I've always admired them. I was further convinced to buy them since they were on sale, and once I got home started stringing lights on my God-Knows-What-Sort-of-Manufacturing-Conditions-In-China tree. The regular lights all went up quickly, and looked...well...okay. Then I added in the bubble lights. T1 and T2 were immediately thrilled with them, as was I. In fact, I kept looking at them all night. Every time I walked through the room I looked at my bubble lights. Here's what I will say about them, they make me smile. They just are so happy looking.
So there. If you are having bad week, go out and buy bubble lights.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
How depressing
I live in one of the top three most depressed states in the US. A recenty survey identified my Commonwealth as one of the top three, lagging only behind Utah. Turns out because there is a general lack of funding for mental health care here, so we are suffering from an abundance of untreated depressed people.
This doesn't surprise me.
The study went on to note that the states with the largest counts of people identifying themselves as "depressed" were also the least educated states.
I'm not knocking the idea that there are depressed people out there, I'm knocking the fact that as a society, particulary in the Commonwealth apparently, depression isn't recognized as a health issue and funded accordingly for lower income people.
On the bright side, we do have more smokers than most other states, as well as a higher level of obesity.
Pick me up a bucket of chicken and a pack of smokes on the way home, Buford, I'm feeling blue today.
This doesn't surprise me.
The study went on to note that the states with the largest counts of people identifying themselves as "depressed" were also the least educated states.
I'm not knocking the idea that there are depressed people out there, I'm knocking the fact that as a society, particulary in the Commonwealth apparently, depression isn't recognized as a health issue and funded accordingly for lower income people.
On the bright side, we do have more smokers than most other states, as well as a higher level of obesity.
Pick me up a bucket of chicken and a pack of smokes on the way home, Buford, I'm feeling blue today.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
whatever happened to blocks?
I just saw a story on the NYTimes website about the most popular toys for preschoolers this holiday seasons. Turns out laptops, MP3 music players, and digital cameras are the hottest toys this year ... for 3-5 year olds.
Get a GRIP, people! Preschoolers need blocks and cars they have to push to go "vroom" with, and dolls and pretend kitchens and puzzles, and bouncy balls they can throw and chase across the yard.
To paraphrase from the article, one of the hottest toys this year is an exercise bicycle connected to a video game. According to a toy industry analyst there's been a "huge jump" in the last year in toys that involve looking at a screen.
I saw the bike/video game thing in a catalog and thought it was the dumbest thing I ever saw.
I'm not speaking out of turn here...I have two children (T1 and T2) and I can report with great authority that they would probably have a brief fascination with that thing, and then it would gather dust.
On the other hand, T2 is still creating the most amazing structures with the basic wood block set his grandparents gave him for Christmas five years ago. He builds detailed courses for his Hot Wheels cars to travel on with wooden shims we got at the lumber store. T1 colors and draws with plain old Crayons, and makes toy critters out of rocks and things she finds in the yard, and castoff packaging from things we get shipped to us.
I found a box of marbles in my storage shed the other night that I had brought home from my parents' house several years ago. At the time T1 and T2 were too young to play with small marbles (choking hazard) but now they are old enough to not do that, so I got on the floor and taught them how to play. T2 is toting them around like a Major Prize Gift from the Gods now.
My sisters recently brought my kids the "Tiddlywinks" game. Again...how basic is THAT? And they LOVE it. Ditto with dominoes, Crazy Eight card games and the kid version of Monopoly.
I'm on my righteously indignant parenting soapbox right now, but puhlllleeeaaaase....don't ENCOURAGE your children to spend any more time in front of a TV/Video than they already do!!!!
Oh, and here's an idea...how about taking them out on REAL bikes for a ride?
Get a GRIP, people! Preschoolers need blocks and cars they have to push to go "vroom" with, and dolls and pretend kitchens and puzzles, and bouncy balls they can throw and chase across the yard.
To paraphrase from the article, one of the hottest toys this year is an exercise bicycle connected to a video game. According to a toy industry analyst there's been a "huge jump" in the last year in toys that involve looking at a screen.
I saw the bike/video game thing in a catalog and thought it was the dumbest thing I ever saw.
I'm not speaking out of turn here...I have two children (T1 and T2) and I can report with great authority that they would probably have a brief fascination with that thing, and then it would gather dust.
On the other hand, T2 is still creating the most amazing structures with the basic wood block set his grandparents gave him for Christmas five years ago. He builds detailed courses for his Hot Wheels cars to travel on with wooden shims we got at the lumber store. T1 colors and draws with plain old Crayons, and makes toy critters out of rocks and things she finds in the yard, and castoff packaging from things we get shipped to us.
I found a box of marbles in my storage shed the other night that I had brought home from my parents' house several years ago. At the time T1 and T2 were too young to play with small marbles (choking hazard) but now they are old enough to not do that, so I got on the floor and taught them how to play. T2 is toting them around like a Major Prize Gift from the Gods now.
My sisters recently brought my kids the "Tiddlywinks" game. Again...how basic is THAT? And they LOVE it. Ditto with dominoes, Crazy Eight card games and the kid version of Monopoly.
I'm on my righteously indignant parenting soapbox right now, but puhlllleeeaaaase....don't ENCOURAGE your children to spend any more time in front of a TV/Video than they already do!!!!
Oh, and here's an idea...how about taking them out on REAL bikes for a ride?
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
12 step program
A good friend of mine informed me the other day that avoiding W.M. is sort of like being in a 12-step program. If you are trying to avoid it (like I claim to have been for nearly a year now) you have to find alternate ways of feeding your craving, especially in THIS town, when it offers the only reliable choice for groceries in a particular geographic area; you also have to confess when you've been bad and shopped there (I've been doing that a bit on this blog, but not enough) and you have to come to grips with who and what you are hurting when you shop there.
Even though she was gently teasing me at the time, it is true. It is too easy to fall back into the W.M. addiction, and I've defiitely fallen off the wagon of late. You would think that they planned it out or something. Market themselves specifically to me, even though I claim to hate the place. I do hate the place. I hate shopping there. I hate their smug corporate attitude. So why am I spending The Reenactor's hard-earned salary there? Even on the smallest purchase?
One word: convenience.
I find that I go there for weird multiples...I might have half an hour to shop for five items...trash bags, organic milk, DVD-Rs, a birthday gift for T2's friend, and ballet tights for T1. I need all of these items in the next 24 hours, and I have the choice of driving to four or five different stores....at least two of which would still be "big box" stores, of lumping all these errands into one location and being done with it.
So I'm guilty of shopping there. And I FEEL guilty. I feel bad that I'm supporting such an awful corporate culture. I feel angry that I don't have better choices for groceries and other items in the town I live in. I am disturbed that most of the items I buy there are made in a sweat shop on the other side of the world. I don't want to have such far-reaching consequences lumped on my hurried-up need for milk, toys, and trash bags.
I don't have an answer, I'm just venting. I am still going to make a choice to shop elsewhere as often as possible, and to avoid the big box stores as much as I reasonably can. I'm hoping that if there are enough of people out there like me doing at least a portion of their shopping elsewhere, that the big corporations will realize they ARE accountable to us to be responsible citizens. Maybe I'm dreaming....maybe I'm just fantasizing at this point....dreaming my dreamy dreams.
I can always hope, though.
Even though she was gently teasing me at the time, it is true. It is too easy to fall back into the W.M. addiction, and I've defiitely fallen off the wagon of late. You would think that they planned it out or something. Market themselves specifically to me, even though I claim to hate the place. I do hate the place. I hate shopping there. I hate their smug corporate attitude. So why am I spending The Reenactor's hard-earned salary there? Even on the smallest purchase?
One word: convenience.
I find that I go there for weird multiples...I might have half an hour to shop for five items...trash bags, organic milk, DVD-Rs, a birthday gift for T2's friend, and ballet tights for T1. I need all of these items in the next 24 hours, and I have the choice of driving to four or five different stores....at least two of which would still be "big box" stores, of lumping all these errands into one location and being done with it.
So I'm guilty of shopping there. And I FEEL guilty. I feel bad that I'm supporting such an awful corporate culture. I feel angry that I don't have better choices for groceries and other items in the town I live in. I am disturbed that most of the items I buy there are made in a sweat shop on the other side of the world. I don't want to have such far-reaching consequences lumped on my hurried-up need for milk, toys, and trash bags.
I don't have an answer, I'm just venting. I am still going to make a choice to shop elsewhere as often as possible, and to avoid the big box stores as much as I reasonably can. I'm hoping that if there are enough of people out there like me doing at least a portion of their shopping elsewhere, that the big corporations will realize they ARE accountable to us to be responsible citizens. Maybe I'm dreaming....maybe I'm just fantasizing at this point....dreaming my dreamy dreams.
I can always hope, though.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
China angst
I'm not the only one who really starting to get mad about this....(from MSNBC)
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21825517/
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21825517/
Sunday, November 18, 2007
of Chinese lights, and Indonesian colanders
Exactly WHAT do we manufacture in this country anymore? I have been making a lot of purchases in the last few days, mostly because we are in the throes of remodeling the kitchen and kids' bath, and as The Reenactor is like a man possessed about getting the job done, I'm all for making those runs to the big box stores for purchases as quickly as we need them. And I'm quickly realizing that I'm buying almost nothing made in this country.
This all started with a bonfire last week. We were burning the cartons from the kitchen cabinets we had installed the weekend before (those WERE made in the U.S.), and we decided to pitch in the remaining two broken cabinets from the old kitchen that had been hillbilly-ing up our front porch. As these burned quite nicely we decided that since the vanity in the kids' bathroom was broken as well, and we had been intending to replace it anyway, we went in, unhooked it from the wall and plumbing (I'm using the Royal "we" here....I didn't do any of that...the Reenactor did) and by golly, that went in the fire too. After that we realized we had pretty much commited ourselves to remodeling the bathroom at this point.
So anyway....back to manufacturing. In the last 48 hours I have purchased a ready-to-install vanity, lights, flooring, and various other products needed to get this done. I also made a side trip to a housewares store to buy some drawer organizers for my new cabinet drawers. The cool bamboo (renewable resource!) wood drawer divider I bought was made in Indonesia, as was the new colander I bought. I didn't search through every bin at the home improvement store, but I can pretty much guarantee that none of the lights I looked at were made in the US. I saw "made in China" on every box I picked up. Same thing for the other fixtures we've purchased.
Here's the thing.... I would actually BUY American-made products if they were available, and if the price difference wasn't grosssly unreasonable. It is the same choice I make when I seek out organic products. The more I have available to me, the more I will purchase.
Oh and now we have a toilet on our front porch. It adds to the overall ambiance of the place, I must say. And if any of you come to visit be aware that you might be greeted by a gap-toothed kid with no shoes on playing a banjo. And that would be T1.
This all started with a bonfire last week. We were burning the cartons from the kitchen cabinets we had installed the weekend before (those WERE made in the U.S.), and we decided to pitch in the remaining two broken cabinets from the old kitchen that had been hillbilly-ing up our front porch. As these burned quite nicely we decided that since the vanity in the kids' bathroom was broken as well, and we had been intending to replace it anyway, we went in, unhooked it from the wall and plumbing (I'm using the Royal "we" here....I didn't do any of that...the Reenactor did) and by golly, that went in the fire too. After that we realized we had pretty much commited ourselves to remodeling the bathroom at this point.
So anyway....back to manufacturing. In the last 48 hours I have purchased a ready-to-install vanity, lights, flooring, and various other products needed to get this done. I also made a side trip to a housewares store to buy some drawer organizers for my new cabinet drawers. The cool bamboo (renewable resource!) wood drawer divider I bought was made in Indonesia, as was the new colander I bought. I didn't search through every bin at the home improvement store, but I can pretty much guarantee that none of the lights I looked at were made in the US. I saw "made in China" on every box I picked up. Same thing for the other fixtures we've purchased.
Here's the thing.... I would actually BUY American-made products if they were available, and if the price difference wasn't grosssly unreasonable. It is the same choice I make when I seek out organic products. The more I have available to me, the more I will purchase.
Oh and now we have a toilet on our front porch. It adds to the overall ambiance of the place, I must say. And if any of you come to visit be aware that you might be greeted by a gap-toothed kid with no shoes on playing a banjo. And that would be T1.
Friday, November 9, 2007
and furthermore
Just to give you an idea of their editorial integrity, a week ago they published an opinion piece that mocked evolutionary biology.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
As long as they can make a buck
I make it a point to not purchase my local newspaper. This is because it is poorly written, poorly edited, and pretty much a joke in the local community--especially for those of us who have lived somewhere else and realize what an asset a decent newspaper can be to a community. On top of this, the very wealthy family who own not only the local newspaper, but the local television station as well (and maybe a radio station or two?) are decidedly "right" in their politics. The newspaper is something of a print version of "Faux" News--pretty much unfair and unbalanced. I see no reason to give these people a dime.
Nevertheless, I do "read" their online version occasionally. You have to pay them to read the full stories...they have a paid online subscription, which I don't pay. Mostly I just a glance at the headlines to see if there is something of stunning importance locally I need to know. The irony here is that if there were, this newspaper probably wouldn't carry it, or would get the facts wrong.
One day a couple of months ago I did buy a newstand copy out of boredom while I was waiting for T1 and T2 at school. That particular day the editorial "opinion" was that global warming was a vast conspiracy made up by thousands of scientists and Al Gore, and that they (the editors) chose to believe the one "NASA" scientist* who says it is not only all a bunch of hoopla, but if we try to fight it we could actually make things worse. Kid ya not. I could literally feel the veins in my brain starting to snap and fizzle reading this editorial.
So in the last couple of days in my early morning checking of my online papers (I check three or four different newspapers online each morning) I noticed that the banner advertisement at the top of the local paper's website is a "fight global warming..learn how" ad. What the? Huh? I thought that was all a bunch of made up stuff? It is a legit ad...sponsored by the AdCouncil and the Environmental Defense Fund. So the message here is that even though your editors don't "believe" in global warming, they'll take money from an advertiser who is trying to prevent it?
I have a word for them, and it sort of rhymes with "mustard."
* The "NASA" scientist quoted in their editorial has ties to the oil industry. I guess they didn't bother to google him before they got all lathered up about how informed his opinion was.
Nevertheless, I do "read" their online version occasionally. You have to pay them to read the full stories...they have a paid online subscription, which I don't pay. Mostly I just a glance at the headlines to see if there is something of stunning importance locally I need to know. The irony here is that if there were, this newspaper probably wouldn't carry it, or would get the facts wrong.
One day a couple of months ago I did buy a newstand copy out of boredom while I was waiting for T1 and T2 at school. That particular day the editorial "opinion" was that global warming was a vast conspiracy made up by thousands of scientists and Al Gore, and that they (the editors) chose to believe the one "NASA" scientist* who says it is not only all a bunch of hoopla, but if we try to fight it we could actually make things worse. Kid ya not. I could literally feel the veins in my brain starting to snap and fizzle reading this editorial.
So in the last couple of days in my early morning checking of my online papers (I check three or four different newspapers online each morning) I noticed that the banner advertisement at the top of the local paper's website is a "fight global warming..learn how" ad. What the? Huh? I thought that was all a bunch of made up stuff? It is a legit ad...sponsored by the AdCouncil and the Environmental Defense Fund. So the message here is that even though your editors don't "believe" in global warming, they'll take money from an advertiser who is trying to prevent it?
I have a word for them, and it sort of rhymes with "mustard."
* The "NASA" scientist quoted in their editorial has ties to the oil industry. I guess they didn't bother to google him before they got all lathered up about how informed his opinion was.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
For Ashley
In keeping a Fillmer-esque theme of photographing squash, and in homage to my organic-squash-lovin' farmer niece, 'shley, I am attaching a photo I took of the inside of T2's pumpkin, moments before turning it into a jack-o-lantern. I was particularly taken with the architectural aspects of the fibers.
I'll get off this nature-photography thing soon!
Monday, October 29, 2007
fern
We took T1, T2 and some friends to a state park in So. Ill. on Saturday for T1's birthday hike and party. It was a beautiful place, and I took lots of photos. This one looked totally different once I downloaded it onto my computer and looked at it in a "big" format, rather than just on the screen on the back of the camera. I would like to hear title suggestions for it. Fillmers...get those creative thoughts going!
Friday, October 19, 2007
bike parts and formal wear
Seen in mid-town NOLA...a corner bike parts, grocery store, and formal wear shop.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
blue tarps
Hey campers, since I have a few moments before bed I thought I would post a quick blog from our work trip to NOLA.
For those of you who haven't been here since the Big K hit 2 years ago, I could TOTALLY go on a rant about those responsible for what HAS NOT been done here. It is stunning what is not happening. If you talk to locals, and we have done so a lot, virtually assistance has come to help people rebuild their homes and lives from non-profit organizations.
The beauracracy and paperwork, and corruption here is unbelievable...just ask anyone who still has a blue tarp sheltering them from the elements...and there are thousands of them out there.
And I don't really need to tell all of you this, but I will anyway, the blue tarps are NOT on the houses in the neighborhoods with brick entries, and 3000-4000-sq. foot houses.
On the flip side, the locals will also tell you that it IS coming back, and that though it is hard to believe in some of the areas we've driven through, but things look much better to them than they did two years ago.
The phrase that keeps going through my head as we drive to job sites....
"you're doin' a heckuva job, brownie."
Nuf said.
For those of you who haven't been here since the Big K hit 2 years ago, I could TOTALLY go on a rant about those responsible for what HAS NOT been done here. It is stunning what is not happening. If you talk to locals, and we have done so a lot, virtually assistance has come to help people rebuild their homes and lives from non-profit organizations.
The beauracracy and paperwork, and corruption here is unbelievable...just ask anyone who still has a blue tarp sheltering them from the elements...and there are thousands of them out there.
And I don't really need to tell all of you this, but I will anyway, the blue tarps are NOT on the houses in the neighborhoods with brick entries, and 3000-4000-sq. foot houses.
On the flip side, the locals will also tell you that it IS coming back, and that though it is hard to believe in some of the areas we've driven through, but things look much better to them than they did two years ago.
The phrase that keeps going through my head as we drive to job sites....
"you're doin' a heckuva job, brownie."
Nuf said.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
The Mouse
This is the symbol you see on nearly every ride at WDW...it clearly says to me "SIT and have fun. Stand up and you fall off screaming in opposite directions."
Hey there campers, we have returned from our vacation to the deep South, and specifically to WDW. I know most of you know the angst I have had over going in recent months. In my opinion prior to the trip there were too many insider "rules" that you had to know to prevent any fun from actually happening. It has been something I have been both surprised by, and loathe to listen to, in waiting rooms and coffee groups in this area that if someone brings up the subject of their next spring or fall break, it instantly becomes Disney-mania and that is the discussion for hours on end afterwards. It is something of a cult around here to spend not just one, but EVERY family vacation visiting Orlando, and the tricks, tips, rules, and insider knowledge traded in these conversations is unbelievable.
With that said, here were the two best pieces of advice we got prior to going, and they both came from our friend Jackie, who has been to WDW a few times, and has a sensible approach to visiting there. The first was to actually drive our car to the WDW parking lot and pay for parking, rather than wait for the "free" shuttle buses most the hotels in the area offer. We had no trouble getting there on any of the three days we were there, and as the whole trip from our hotel to the lot was about 10 minutes, it was well worth not hassling with even more tourists on the buses.
Tip no. 2, was to hydrate ourselves and T1 and T2. To that end The Reenactor took his backpack with the self contained water bladder thingie in it, and we drank cold water all day from it. Just remembering to keep drinking as we were waiting in lines made for us all being happier.
Here are my observations from the trip, now that you know some of my background about going.
Pros:
--The place really is beautiful. Having worked in a theme park myself, and knowing how much effort is put into "theming" a place like that, I think they truly do an exceptional job of creating a "set" for the entertainment going on around you.
--The signs in front of the rides are really informative about what age level will enjoy the ride. There was only one ride we took T1 and T2 on that they didn't want to repeat, and it was truly a bit scary for them....the signs had given us plenty of warning.
--In-park food and beverage prices were way more reasonable than I anticipated, and I was REALLY surprised at how much fresh fruit and vegetarian fare was offered.
--In spite of my original grumpiness about ticket prices I do feel that we got our money's worth each day. Just the shows and 3D movies alone are worth the admission price. The "electric" parade and fireworks show in the evening are an extra bonus that you don't get in a lot of similar venues.
--The kids had a good time...and ultimately that was what it was all about. For the record, they probably would have had an equally good time at any major theme park we took them to, as the rides and shows all in one place was a new experience for them.
The cons:
--the other tourists....the ones with the glassy-eyed gleam in their eyes who you knew were the "frequent flyers" to this place. They take it wayyyyyy too seriously.
--the darn autograph books. Apparently you purchase an autograph book (conveniently sold there on site) and haul your four-year-old child all over the place trying to get the characters to sign them ....this means the princesses, Goofy, Tigger, etc. all need to sign your kids' book with their big stuffed paws while you take pictures of "precious" looking on lovingly. This pretty much effectively holds up the line for the rest of us just wanting to snap a photo of our kid mugging with Mickey.
--TOO MANY STROLLERS. Seriously, these things really screw up crowd control. I have no problem with someone bringing in a simple single-wide umbrella stroller for their two-or-three year old, but the park offers stroller rental, and they offer these big, wide double strollers, that all too often are lugging around kids as old, or older than T1 and T2. Hey, if your normally healthy kid can't walk around this park at age 7 or 8, maybe they shouldn't be here. There were many times were we got hung in a slow moving line of traffic behind a dozen of these things being pushed around by equally weary parents, and it was a nightmare to try to get ahead of them.
So..with all that said I'll eagerly wait your comments.
Ta.
Friday, October 5, 2007
mouse ears
We're off to WDW this week. Camper discussions to return soon. Do you think I'll be consumed with conspicuous consumerism?
Monday, October 1, 2007
Don't read this!
For all you campers who don't regularly listen to NPR (are any of you out there?) it is National Banned Books Week! Did you realize that oftentimes the only person standing between your choice to read some of the great classics of all time, and some local moral authority who thinks there might be a bad word or idea in that classic, is your librarian? That's right! The sweet ladies at the public library in your town are (for the most part) stalwart defenders of your Right to Read. Just think how your literary education would be different if the yahoos had their way and you didn't get to read "Tom Sawyer," "To Kill a Mockingbird" or "Slaughterhouse Five" and "Lord of the Flies." Did you know that our beloved Shel Silverstein has a book in the top 100 banned books of all time? "A Light in the Attic" comes in at No. 51! Did you know the "Where's Waldo?" books and Harry Potter series are both in the list? Two of my favorite children's books authors--Mem Fox and Maurice Sendak--both have books listed in the top 100.
From the American Library Association's website, a lovely quote, under the heading of the First Amendment information:
“Censorship reflects a society’s lack of confidence in itself. It is a hallmark of an authoritarian regime . . . .” — Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart, dissenting Ginzberg v. United States, 383 U.S. 463 (1966)
Go read a banned book, and hug your librarian!
From the American Library Association's website, a lovely quote, under the heading of the First Amendment information:
“Censorship reflects a society’s lack of confidence in itself. It is a hallmark of an authoritarian regime . . . .” — Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart, dissenting Ginzberg v. United States, 383 U.S. 463 (1966)
Go read a banned book, and hug your librarian!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
To the Reenactor
My husband, The Reenactor, turns 40 today. He's out of town on a business trip, so in his absence I will discuss him on my blog.
We met when we were both photographers for a university that shall go unnamed, because we don't like the new name of it! I was working for the PR dept, he was working for the yearbook. We often were at the same place at the same time, waiting in bored patience for the grip-n-grin to occur so we could get our shot, and leave. We suffered through speeches, presentations, and really awful football games just to get enough usuable frames (pre-digital camera, folks!) to work with, and I soon found myself looking forward to his company at these occasions. The rest, they say, is history, and 16 years later (12 of those in wedded bliss) I still look forward to his company.
I'm proud of him for what he has done professionally...making chemicals we can all keep cool with...and with how seriously he takes his role in it. I'm proud that he has been given a whole new responsiblity at work, and that everyone who has worked with him recognizes that he is perfect for his new job...making sure that the process of making the chemicals is done as safely as possible.
I'm proud that he has taken his grandmother's pickle recipe and made it his own...taking something that was already good, and making it way better.
I'm proud that he probably knows more Civil War history than the average person, and in spite of the fact that all those CW books take up a lot of shelf space in our house, that he has actually read all of them, not just once, but multiple times.
He's not one to challenge at trivial pursuit...he has more obscure knowledge tucked away than the average person, and knows more strange facts than I'll ever know.
Anyway...here's to The Reenactor in a new decade. Much love from your bride!
We met when we were both photographers for a university that shall go unnamed, because we don't like the new name of it! I was working for the PR dept, he was working for the yearbook. We often were at the same place at the same time, waiting in bored patience for the grip-n-grin to occur so we could get our shot, and leave. We suffered through speeches, presentations, and really awful football games just to get enough usuable frames (pre-digital camera, folks!) to work with, and I soon found myself looking forward to his company at these occasions. The rest, they say, is history, and 16 years later (12 of those in wedded bliss) I still look forward to his company.
I'm proud of him for what he has done professionally...making chemicals we can all keep cool with...and with how seriously he takes his role in it. I'm proud that he has been given a whole new responsiblity at work, and that everyone who has worked with him recognizes that he is perfect for his new job...making sure that the process of making the chemicals is done as safely as possible.
I'm proud that he has taken his grandmother's pickle recipe and made it his own...taking something that was already good, and making it way better.
I'm proud that he probably knows more Civil War history than the average person, and in spite of the fact that all those CW books take up a lot of shelf space in our house, that he has actually read all of them, not just once, but multiple times.
He's not one to challenge at trivial pursuit...he has more obscure knowledge tucked away than the average person, and knows more strange facts than I'll ever know.
Anyway...here's to The Reenactor in a new decade. Much love from your bride!
Saturday, September 15, 2007
sorry to be bore-ing!!!
It has been difficult for me to find inspiration for blog posting these last few days. I keep wanting to rant about how disgusted I am with the president and his hell-bent plans for keeping our young men and women in harms' way just so he can prove he's right, or at least he's the decider, or whatever. I am so unbelieveably frustrated with it all that I simply can't focus my thoughts into something coherent and understandable, and for what it's worth, I'm pretty much preachin' to the choir with you Campers, arent' I? No Rovians lurking out there are there?
So I'll latch onto something more fun...one of my new favorite televsion shows is "Living with Ed." No, it isn't about my brother (sorry Ed!). It is about the actor Ed Begley, Jr., and his wife, and their "green" lifestyle. It is on HGTV and is both funny and incredibly informative about ways the average household can limit their use of electricty, fossil fuels, water, etc. I said, average household...but really this season he has visited celebrity friends who have seriously gone green...some of them almost entirely or entirely getting "off the grid" --which is apparently the goal of folks like Ed. Some of these people have fabulous houses (estates really) that are powered almost exclusively by solar or wind power. In fact, Larry Hagman (yes, J.R. from Dallas) sells back some of the power his personal system generates to the power company, and I think I understood that he donates some of his power as well to low-income families. He said he went from having a $37,000 electric bill one year, to a $13 the next, after he installed his solar panels. Incredible. Of course the panels were plenty expensive, so folks like The Reenactor and I can't rush out to buy them, but it is impressive that this amount of power is possible from a unit like this. And it's CLEAN, folks!!!
On a smaller scale, they have installed numerous gadgets in their own home which I am really interested in...one is a switch that allows you to turn off all unnecessary power in your house when you aren't home....all the things that are on "standby" waiting for you to use them, and sucking electricty while they wait. You can be very specific about which outlets you want to include in this, and the energy savings was something like 25% per month.
Anyway...if you get a chance to watch it it really is good fun, and educational.
Cards vs. Cubs tomorrow...I've never seen the Cubbies before!
We'll lose, of course, but at this point, does it really matter?
So I'll latch onto something more fun...one of my new favorite televsion shows is "Living with Ed." No, it isn't about my brother (sorry Ed!). It is about the actor Ed Begley, Jr., and his wife, and their "green" lifestyle. It is on HGTV and is both funny and incredibly informative about ways the average household can limit their use of electricty, fossil fuels, water, etc. I said, average household...but really this season he has visited celebrity friends who have seriously gone green...some of them almost entirely or entirely getting "off the grid" --which is apparently the goal of folks like Ed. Some of these people have fabulous houses (estates really) that are powered almost exclusively by solar or wind power. In fact, Larry Hagman (yes, J.R. from Dallas) sells back some of the power his personal system generates to the power company, and I think I understood that he donates some of his power as well to low-income families. He said he went from having a $37,000 electric bill one year, to a $13 the next, after he installed his solar panels. Incredible. Of course the panels were plenty expensive, so folks like The Reenactor and I can't rush out to buy them, but it is impressive that this amount of power is possible from a unit like this. And it's CLEAN, folks!!!
On a smaller scale, they have installed numerous gadgets in their own home which I am really interested in...one is a switch that allows you to turn off all unnecessary power in your house when you aren't home....all the things that are on "standby" waiting for you to use them, and sucking electricty while they wait. You can be very specific about which outlets you want to include in this, and the energy savings was something like 25% per month.
Anyway...if you get a chance to watch it it really is good fun, and educational.
Cards vs. Cubs tomorrow...I've never seen the Cubbies before!
We'll lose, of course, but at this point, does it really matter?
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Shley be 30
Cheers to my niece 'shley who is turning 30!
I was looking for a photo I have somewhere here in the house of her as an adorable five-year-old, but can't find it at the moment.
She is still adorable, and in recent years has educated me in the ways of organic and sustainable farming; shared political angst with me via email; and has gone on travels and adventures that I will have to live vicariously through.
But my favorite 'shley memory is that we shared a trip to Philmont together 14 years ago (yes, girl, 14!). I had a great time in her company there, and have many, many great memories of singing Billy Joel and Simon and Garfunkel songs while we hiked, dodging really fierce lightning storms, and eating really terrible food, and the last morning we were on the trail, sitting on the Tooth and watching the sun rise over New Mexico.
30 is a dawdle, Shley. I hope you find grand new ways to hike your path in this world. I will raise a pint of Fat Tire in your honor tonight.
Love ya,
Auntie K
I was looking for a photo I have somewhere here in the house of her as an adorable five-year-old, but can't find it at the moment.
She is still adorable, and in recent years has educated me in the ways of organic and sustainable farming; shared political angst with me via email; and has gone on travels and adventures that I will have to live vicariously through.
But my favorite 'shley memory is that we shared a trip to Philmont together 14 years ago (yes, girl, 14!). I had a great time in her company there, and have many, many great memories of singing Billy Joel and Simon and Garfunkel songs while we hiked, dodging really fierce lightning storms, and eating really terrible food, and the last morning we were on the trail, sitting on the Tooth and watching the sun rise over New Mexico.
30 is a dawdle, Shley. I hope you find grand new ways to hike your path in this world. I will raise a pint of Fat Tire in your honor tonight.
Love ya,
Auntie K
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Cat in repose
I tried to convince the cat that she wasn't being very ladylike in her posture last night, but she didn't listen.
How my kid spends time at school
Thing 1 came home the other day and announced in a very worried tone to me that her class had watched "Sponge Bob" at school that afternoon. I immediately understood WHY they had watched television — it is hell hot outside and too dangerous for the kids to have recess — but I was concerned about the choice of viewing material. Our kids don't watch Sponge Bob...it just isn't in our list of "approved" television. So all of you campers out there who are fans of the show, I'm not railing against that particular program, it just isn't one I personally choose for my kids to watch.
I spoke to Thing 1's teacher about it that evening at an open house, and she seemed mystified at my concern. I pointed out that at the same time period there are some great shows on PBS like Reading Rainbow and Between the Lions...surely more appropriate for kids to watch in an academic setting. A friend of mine observed later that the school library also has videos and DVDs of the excellent Scholastic books-on-video series....which are GREAT. Again, more appropriate for school, no?
Here's the irony of the whole situation....I guarantee that I am by leaps and bounds the most "liberal" parent in Thing 1's classroom, yet I'm the one questioning the fact that they are watching commercially-sponsored, non-academic television in lieu of something that they could actually learn something positive from. In fact, and this is REALLY ironic given the bad rap the label "liberal" has these days, is that I find myself very "conservative" on the ways that my children are exposed to different influences.
And, the next day, the kids didn't watch Sponge Bob...but they did watch another Nick show...one geared toward 'tweens. Again...this isn't complicated....just put in something more appropriate for six-year-olds.
I spoke to Thing 1's teacher about it that evening at an open house, and she seemed mystified at my concern. I pointed out that at the same time period there are some great shows on PBS like Reading Rainbow and Between the Lions...surely more appropriate for kids to watch in an academic setting. A friend of mine observed later that the school library also has videos and DVDs of the excellent Scholastic books-on-video series....which are GREAT. Again, more appropriate for school, no?
Here's the irony of the whole situation....I guarantee that I am by leaps and bounds the most "liberal" parent in Thing 1's classroom, yet I'm the one questioning the fact that they are watching commercially-sponsored, non-academic television in lieu of something that they could actually learn something positive from. In fact, and this is REALLY ironic given the bad rap the label "liberal" has these days, is that I find myself very "conservative" on the ways that my children are exposed to different influences.
And, the next day, the kids didn't watch Sponge Bob...but they did watch another Nick show...one geared toward 'tweens. Again...this isn't complicated....just put in something more appropriate for six-year-olds.
Monday, August 13, 2007
red, or white?
What is the etiquette for a Rove Resignation party? Does one serve white wine or red? A keg? Or is that too tacky?
He says he wants to spend more time with his family. Clearly he needs to, because I wasn't even aware that he was married, much less that he has a teenage son. Maybe if he spent more time with his own family he would be less inclined to do harm to so many other families.
Not that I'm bitter, or anything.
He says he wants to spend more time with his family. Clearly he needs to, because I wasn't even aware that he was married, much less that he has a teenage son. Maybe if he spent more time with his own family he would be less inclined to do harm to so many other families.
Not that I'm bitter, or anything.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
shrine is gone
The Shrine To Little Garden Bears and Gnomes ("Gnomenclature," as my niece named it) is gone. Sadly it appears that the residents of the home where it was located have moved on to greener, and more shrine-friendly environs.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
what? no hooping?
We're back from the beach, Campers. I see no new chit chat so I'll give you an image to ruminate over. Seen in Charleston, SC.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
back to my original angst
I saw a story in the major news sources last week that wm is dropping prices on thousands of their products to draw consumers back into their stores because they have had the lowest same-store sales gains in their history this year. I can't take ALL the credit for that, but I'm sure my significant drop in purchases there made at least a small blip at our local store. The chain says that their customers are concerned about gas prices so they aren't buying as much. That might be true, but I also think that there are way more people like me who have just had their fill of wm's destructive business practices.
Sadly, we've probably made more purchases at that store in the last month than in this entire calendar year. The majority of shopping trips I've made there have simply been out of convenience. There is no other grocery store in that particular part of town (except an off-brand retailer) and if I'm in that area running other errands and need to pick up bread or milk, it is just too easy to go there rather than drive four or five miles in a different direction.
Since this was the original intent of this blog I will aspire to improve my own habits.
And in other news...
a woman in Jersey reported that her pool...a pool similar to the one we fondly refer to as our "hillbilly pool"...was stolen WITH the water in it. Hogwash. These pools are HEAVY when they are full of water. The Reenactor calculated at one point how much our own pool weighed filled with water, and it simply isn't possible for someone to have taken it without emptying it first. Not to mention the fact that if you so much as lean on the side (with intent) you dump all the water out in a tsunami of chlorinated water...I've witnessed this very event in years past. A person, or extensive group of persons, could NOT steal a full pool.
Beach time....chat amongst yourselves for a few days!
Sadly, we've probably made more purchases at that store in the last month than in this entire calendar year. The majority of shopping trips I've made there have simply been out of convenience. There is no other grocery store in that particular part of town (except an off-brand retailer) and if I'm in that area running other errands and need to pick up bread or milk, it is just too easy to go there rather than drive four or five miles in a different direction.
Since this was the original intent of this blog I will aspire to improve my own habits.
And in other news...
a woman in Jersey reported that her pool...a pool similar to the one we fondly refer to as our "hillbilly pool"...was stolen WITH the water in it. Hogwash. These pools are HEAVY when they are full of water. The Reenactor calculated at one point how much our own pool weighed filled with water, and it simply isn't possible for someone to have taken it without emptying it first. Not to mention the fact that if you so much as lean on the side (with intent) you dump all the water out in a tsunami of chlorinated water...I've witnessed this very event in years past. A person, or extensive group of persons, could NOT steal a full pool.
Beach time....chat amongst yourselves for a few days!
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
pass the chicken and gravy!
According to a map posted on the CNN website this afternoon the state of KY is one of several in the deep south with a 25% obesity rate. Well, kiss my cheese grits.
My observation with this is that oddly enough, the majority of the states that are obese are also the states that most support the current administration.
Coincidence?
Maybe if you get up off your arse and exercise once in a while your brain fog clears.
My observation with this is that oddly enough, the majority of the states that are obese are also the states that most support the current administration.
Coincidence?
Maybe if you get up off your arse and exercise once in a while your brain fog clears.
Monday, July 23, 2007
yet another sign
I seem to be on a theme of finding signs that catch my attention in a weird way. I saw this sign about two weeks ago, but didn't have my camera with me, and had it with me when I was on this particular side of town again. My personal reaction to it is one of two things: 1) You can't buy beer in this town on Sunday, but by golly, you can get buy-one-get-one-free adult movies; and 2) when you think of Sunday do you REALLY ask yourself "gee, do I have enough porn to get through until Monday?"
Sorry if I've offended any of you, but this sign offended me.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
ladybird
There's a wonderful children's book called "Miss Rumphius." It is about a woman who as a child tells her grandfather that when she grows up she will travel to faraway places, and then live by the sea. Her grandfather says that is fine, but she must also, "do something to make the world more beauiful." She spends her life travelling, and when she finally settles down in her hometown by the sea she tries to think of how to make the world more beautiful. So she plants wildflowers....everywhere. Whenever she goes for walks she takes wildflower seeds (specifically lupine seeds) in her pockets, and tosses them into the dirt along the paths she takes. A lot of the people in her town think she is crazy, but she continues to do it. Soon, the fields and walkways of her town are covered in beautiful flowers and when she dies she is remembered as the "lupine lady."
If there is one thing that Lady Bird Johnson did with her power as First Lady it was to beautify the highways of the United States with a simple idea...plant native wildflowers in the medians and right of ways. It is an incredibly simple idea, yet there are places where the results breathtaking. One example, the KY-TN line on interstate 24 is a sea of reds and yellows at certain times of the year when flowers planted there are in bloom. When driving for miles and miles on highways that are monotonous at best it is so refreshing to see that spot of color.
What if we all took her idea a step further....what if we found just one place in our hometowns that could benefit from a patch of flowers...wild or otherwise? I'm going to buy wildflower seeds in the next few days and see if I can't get my own Ladybird spot started.
Find a way to do something to make the world more beautiful.
If there is one thing that Lady Bird Johnson did with her power as First Lady it was to beautify the highways of the United States with a simple idea...plant native wildflowers in the medians and right of ways. It is an incredibly simple idea, yet there are places where the results breathtaking. One example, the KY-TN line on interstate 24 is a sea of reds and yellows at certain times of the year when flowers planted there are in bloom. When driving for miles and miles on highways that are monotonous at best it is so refreshing to see that spot of color.
What if we all took her idea a step further....what if we found just one place in our hometowns that could benefit from a patch of flowers...wild or otherwise? I'm going to buy wildflower seeds in the next few days and see if I can't get my own Ladybird spot started.
Find a way to do something to make the world more beautiful.
Monday, July 9, 2007
happy birthday Mom
Today would have been my mother's 90th birthday.
One year ago today my kids and I were with her, and my children gave her an "angel" teddy bear. My mother collected teddy bears because as a young girl she was friends with several other girls in her very small town in Missouri and as a club they called themselves the Teddy Bears. They remained friends all their lives and I think only two of them survive.
When we went to see her on her birthday last year she was calm and sleepy, which was her "normal" state then. She had been in a nursing home for four years, and because of things misfiring in her brain, and the cocktails of drugs they gave her there, she was—to quote the Pink Floyd song—"comfortably numb." She sat forward just a bit in her wheelchair when the kids came into her view....T1 and T2 always caught her eye. I don't know in her last few months that she understood that they were her grandchildren, but she did know that shorter, cuter, more active people were in her room than normally appeared there, and she reacted to them. I talked to her and told her happy birthday, but I don't know how much of it made sense to her.
The next day we went to see her again, and this time she was angry. I could tell as soon as I walked into the room. Even though Mom was in very poor health she could still show emotion, and on that day-after-her-birthday I realized as soon as I said hello to her that she was mad, and I felt like it was directed at me. She refused to acknowledge me and had a "set" expression on her face that I remember very well as a child..a look that meant she was not pleased. After sitting with her for a few moments I realized that the anger was her way of telling me that it was time to go. Not for me to leave, but for her to move on.
When I got back in my car that day I called my sister and told her what I had seen. A week later my brother visited Mom, and called me and told me he had the same "feeling" when he saw her....that she was mad, and ready to go.Three weeks later, she died.
I report all this because since her death I have had her "permission" to read letters she and my father wrote to each other while they were courting, and during their early marriage while he was overseas serving in the Army in WWII. There are hundreds of letters, and I have started typing them—a few a week,—and forwarding them to my family to read. In those letters I am seeing a side of both my parents I didn't know. You know how you sometimes wish you could go back in time and meet your parents when they were teenagers, or in college? It is sort of like that...I'm finding out what songs she liked to listen to on the radio, what movies she went to see, how she spent her free time, how much she loved my father, and how hard it was for them to be apart.
Even though I've only read and typed about 20 percent of the letters I have learned that my mother was funny and smart. I knew these things already, but reading the letters is like hearing her voice all over again but in a younger, more carefree voice. I have also realized that the lifelong "teasing" she endured for being a bit of a "scatterbrain" is actually something that started when she and Dad were dating. There was a popular song by Frankie Masters called "Scatterbrain" and it was one of "their" songs. And, in trying to follow Mom's stream-of-conciousness writing style I can see why Dad would have used that as a term of endearment for her. She often flits from a serious topic (the draft and her worries for Dad going in the Army) to something silly someone at work said to her, all in one paragraph.
I've also learned from the letters that Mom was frustrated by her limited career choices as a woman in the early 1940s. She was getting a degree in education, but after having taught a couple of years at a rural schoolhouse to earn money to keep attending college, she was disillusioned by teaching, and really didn't want to go back. In those days teaching was one of the only "professional" jobs a woman could have. Even though she eventually did get a degree in education, and taught off and on for many years, I am beginning to understand in reading the letters that it really wasn't what she dreamed of doing.
I think this is why she encouraged all of her own children....three daughters and one son....to follow their dreams. The world was a very different place for her daughters than it was for her. This especially was true for me having been born so late in her life, I got to take full advantage of the freedoms and opportunities created by the women's movements of the sixties and seventies...something I think most younger women take for granted. I often wonder what Mom would have been if she had been able to choose any degree she wanted when she was in college. My best guess is that she would have been an architect or interior designer. She loved studying houses and floorplans and dreaming of ways to arrange living spaces.
So today would have been Mom's 90th birthday. For you younger women reading this blog, consider this: When my mother was born women could not vote. That amendment to the constitution was passed when she was three years old. Think about that....think about how your place in the world would be affected if you could not even participate in the democratic process of choosing your government.
In her lifetime there were two World Wars, and two "other" wars...in Korea and Vietnam. There have also been the two wars in Iraq, and numerous other military actions and "operations." She and my father watched the Twin Towers fall, and I think that day they remembered back to watching newsreels of Pearl Harbor exploding in flames, and probably wondered what sort of World War we were going to be drawn into this time.
My mother (and father) grew up in rural Missouri and as children lived in very modest circumstances by our standards today. But in spite of the fact that a Great Depression had caused families like theirs to be cautious about how their money was spent (go watch a "Waltons" episode if you need a refresher on this) they both managed to graduate from college, as did nearly all their friends in their high school class of 27 young men and women... an accomplishment I still find astounding for the time.
Later in her life my mother finally found her "true" vocation. She became a librarian. She loved showing her patrons the world through books. There were no computers when she was in her library, and she was to many people in my hometown the first "google" they experienced. Ask her a question, she could almost always find the information you were looking for. Tell her you are writing a research paper on moths and she would bring you a stack of 14 books to use as reference. She would call friends and acquaintances who were experts in certain areas for reference if she couldn't find the information there in the library.
Mom loved a birthday celebration and reveled in being surrounded by family and friends to talk, laugh and have cake.
I'll be having a piece of cake today in honor of Mom. I'm sure she is enjoying her 90th surrounded by her Howard, her parents and brothers, and of course, her Teddy Bears.
One year ago today my kids and I were with her, and my children gave her an "angel" teddy bear. My mother collected teddy bears because as a young girl she was friends with several other girls in her very small town in Missouri and as a club they called themselves the Teddy Bears. They remained friends all their lives and I think only two of them survive.
When we went to see her on her birthday last year she was calm and sleepy, which was her "normal" state then. She had been in a nursing home for four years, and because of things misfiring in her brain, and the cocktails of drugs they gave her there, she was—to quote the Pink Floyd song—"comfortably numb." She sat forward just a bit in her wheelchair when the kids came into her view....T1 and T2 always caught her eye. I don't know in her last few months that she understood that they were her grandchildren, but she did know that shorter, cuter, more active people were in her room than normally appeared there, and she reacted to them. I talked to her and told her happy birthday, but I don't know how much of it made sense to her.
The next day we went to see her again, and this time she was angry. I could tell as soon as I walked into the room. Even though Mom was in very poor health she could still show emotion, and on that day-after-her-birthday I realized as soon as I said hello to her that she was mad, and I felt like it was directed at me. She refused to acknowledge me and had a "set" expression on her face that I remember very well as a child..a look that meant she was not pleased. After sitting with her for a few moments I realized that the anger was her way of telling me that it was time to go. Not for me to leave, but for her to move on.
When I got back in my car that day I called my sister and told her what I had seen. A week later my brother visited Mom, and called me and told me he had the same "feeling" when he saw her....that she was mad, and ready to go.Three weeks later, she died.
I report all this because since her death I have had her "permission" to read letters she and my father wrote to each other while they were courting, and during their early marriage while he was overseas serving in the Army in WWII. There are hundreds of letters, and I have started typing them—a few a week,—and forwarding them to my family to read. In those letters I am seeing a side of both my parents I didn't know. You know how you sometimes wish you could go back in time and meet your parents when they were teenagers, or in college? It is sort of like that...I'm finding out what songs she liked to listen to on the radio, what movies she went to see, how she spent her free time, how much she loved my father, and how hard it was for them to be apart.
Even though I've only read and typed about 20 percent of the letters I have learned that my mother was funny and smart. I knew these things already, but reading the letters is like hearing her voice all over again but in a younger, more carefree voice. I have also realized that the lifelong "teasing" she endured for being a bit of a "scatterbrain" is actually something that started when she and Dad were dating. There was a popular song by Frankie Masters called "Scatterbrain" and it was one of "their" songs. And, in trying to follow Mom's stream-of-conciousness writing style I can see why Dad would have used that as a term of endearment for her. She often flits from a serious topic (the draft and her worries for Dad going in the Army) to something silly someone at work said to her, all in one paragraph.
I've also learned from the letters that Mom was frustrated by her limited career choices as a woman in the early 1940s. She was getting a degree in education, but after having taught a couple of years at a rural schoolhouse to earn money to keep attending college, she was disillusioned by teaching, and really didn't want to go back. In those days teaching was one of the only "professional" jobs a woman could have. Even though she eventually did get a degree in education, and taught off and on for many years, I am beginning to understand in reading the letters that it really wasn't what she dreamed of doing.
I think this is why she encouraged all of her own children....three daughters and one son....to follow their dreams. The world was a very different place for her daughters than it was for her. This especially was true for me having been born so late in her life, I got to take full advantage of the freedoms and opportunities created by the women's movements of the sixties and seventies...something I think most younger women take for granted. I often wonder what Mom would have been if she had been able to choose any degree she wanted when she was in college. My best guess is that she would have been an architect or interior designer. She loved studying houses and floorplans and dreaming of ways to arrange living spaces.
So today would have been Mom's 90th birthday. For you younger women reading this blog, consider this: When my mother was born women could not vote. That amendment to the constitution was passed when she was three years old. Think about that....think about how your place in the world would be affected if you could not even participate in the democratic process of choosing your government.
In her lifetime there were two World Wars, and two "other" wars...in Korea and Vietnam. There have also been the two wars in Iraq, and numerous other military actions and "operations." She and my father watched the Twin Towers fall, and I think that day they remembered back to watching newsreels of Pearl Harbor exploding in flames, and probably wondered what sort of World War we were going to be drawn into this time.
My mother (and father) grew up in rural Missouri and as children lived in very modest circumstances by our standards today. But in spite of the fact that a Great Depression had caused families like theirs to be cautious about how their money was spent (go watch a "Waltons" episode if you need a refresher on this) they both managed to graduate from college, as did nearly all their friends in their high school class of 27 young men and women... an accomplishment I still find astounding for the time.
Later in her life my mother finally found her "true" vocation. She became a librarian. She loved showing her patrons the world through books. There were no computers when she was in her library, and she was to many people in my hometown the first "google" they experienced. Ask her a question, she could almost always find the information you were looking for. Tell her you are writing a research paper on moths and she would bring you a stack of 14 books to use as reference. She would call friends and acquaintances who were experts in certain areas for reference if she couldn't find the information there in the library.
Mom loved a birthday celebration and reveled in being surrounded by family and friends to talk, laugh and have cake.
I'll be having a piece of cake today in honor of Mom. I'm sure she is enjoying her 90th surrounded by her Howard, her parents and brothers, and of course, her Teddy Bears.
Friday, July 6, 2007
but what if I want to purchase some?
I know a lot of places around here that could definitely use a rental of this stuff....
Friday, June 29, 2007
Meteorologist in training
AccuPacker....that's what we're calling Thing 2. His Uncle "The Edward" will appreciate how he has put his hat from the St. Pat's parade into use as a wind-direction detection device. And his frog umbrella has been employed as a rain gauge. This isn't from the We-Need-An-Ark deluge we had today, but from a storm last week. He is very keen on weather now. If THAT isn't a measure of his Fillmer-ness, I don't know what is.
Monday, June 25, 2007
We've won a major award!
Most of you campers who are family or close friends have heard the angst-ridden story of how The Reenactor's delicious canned garlic dill pickles were slammed out of winning any ribbons at the county fair last summer by self-absorbed, so-called "extension homemakers" who dissed him because of some small dots of "rust" on the lid. The sad sight of his jar of pickles, ribbon-less, in a shelf full of pickles with all manner and colors of ribbons on them, was just so sad. Even sadder was the sight that some of the other entries had clearly used artificial colors to achieve the ultimate color of green for their entry, and yet, they still were recognized with an award. But not T.R. His pickles were ostracized. There is a life lesson in this somewhere, but I'll let you all figure it out on your own.
Not to be outdone, when he pickled last summer he made sure he carefully wiped ALL salt off the lids so as to not offend the homemaker judges this year. Today was entry day, so he looked through all his leftover jars (from last year....cucumber plants are still growing this year) and selected the one that would be easiest to clean up (small bits of rust still had settled, in spite of his efforts last summer). Using a bit of sandpaper he sparkled up that lid. He was disappointed in the actual pickles themselves...thought they just didn't look right. But, since these women don't bother to TASTE the entry....just judge it on appearance (again, a life metaphor can be construed)...he decided it was okay.
Meanwhile, on a whim, I decided to whip up a batch of biscuits to enter. Since I was recognized in my youth as an award-winning baker at the Webster Co. Fair, I thought it would be fun to see how I was judged here. I made a dozen biscuits (recipe from an ancient Oklahoma 4-H cookbook) and selected the four that seemed most "alike" in appearance to enter. We had some of the leftovers for breakfast, and they were pretty darn good.
T1 and T2 and I took the entries this morning and left them at the fairgrounds. This evening we went back to see how we did. Happy news! The Reenactor's pickles won a RED RIBBON!! Ta Da! No dissing this year! A major improvement, and achievement!
Oh, and my biscuits? Blue ribbon.
Ha.
Not to be outdone, when he pickled last summer he made sure he carefully wiped ALL salt off the lids so as to not offend the homemaker judges this year. Today was entry day, so he looked through all his leftover jars (from last year....cucumber plants are still growing this year) and selected the one that would be easiest to clean up (small bits of rust still had settled, in spite of his efforts last summer). Using a bit of sandpaper he sparkled up that lid. He was disappointed in the actual pickles themselves...thought they just didn't look right. But, since these women don't bother to TASTE the entry....just judge it on appearance (again, a life metaphor can be construed)...he decided it was okay.
Meanwhile, on a whim, I decided to whip up a batch of biscuits to enter. Since I was recognized in my youth as an award-winning baker at the Webster Co. Fair, I thought it would be fun to see how I was judged here. I made a dozen biscuits (recipe from an ancient Oklahoma 4-H cookbook) and selected the four that seemed most "alike" in appearance to enter. We had some of the leftovers for breakfast, and they were pretty darn good.
T1 and T2 and I took the entries this morning and left them at the fairgrounds. This evening we went back to see how we did. Happy news! The Reenactor's pickles won a RED RIBBON!! Ta Da! No dissing this year! A major improvement, and achievement!
Oh, and my biscuits? Blue ribbon.
Ha.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
hillbillies in a Crown Vic
This post has no particular point....just another of those weird things that has stuck in my apparently bored brain for five hours now.
I had to go to the Evil Empire (Wally World) this afternoon to purchase a box of DVD-Rs. Okay, first of all I hear all of you booing at me for going there, but I wanted to actually have a decent selection to choose from, and to be able to get in and out of a store as quickly as possible. This is another of those purchases that I don't really see a huge difference between buying it at W.M. versus one of the other big box stores. The darn things are all made in Taiwan, so it's the same difference, as we used to say in high school.
So I'm totally digressing here. As I was leaving, with Things 1 and 2 in tow, and our one little bag of purchases (DVDs and a box of Thing 1's favorite granola bars) I noticed as we were approaching our car a number of well-fed WKY hillbillies were loitering around the car next to mine. They were emptying out not one, not two, but three grocery carts of filled little white WM bags into the trunk of this car, which as it turned out, was a Crown Victoria. Let's just say none of these folks have been strangers to gravy, shall we? My kids and I managed to squeeze past them (I'm not exaggerating here) to get into our car, and once we started up and were ready to back out I realized that all six (or possibly seven) of the hillbillies had jampacked themselves into that Crown Vic. As I pulled away from my parking spot I had the vision that has stuck with me all this evening....a nice burgandy sedan fiilled to the brim with large folks wearing overalls and polyester. And in the trunk? A whole weeks' worth of Little Debbie, smokes and cleaning supplies.
I'll say this for them...at least they carpooled.
I had to go to the Evil Empire (Wally World) this afternoon to purchase a box of DVD-Rs. Okay, first of all I hear all of you booing at me for going there, but I wanted to actually have a decent selection to choose from, and to be able to get in and out of a store as quickly as possible. This is another of those purchases that I don't really see a huge difference between buying it at W.M. versus one of the other big box stores. The darn things are all made in Taiwan, so it's the same difference, as we used to say in high school.
So I'm totally digressing here. As I was leaving, with Things 1 and 2 in tow, and our one little bag of purchases (DVDs and a box of Thing 1's favorite granola bars) I noticed as we were approaching our car a number of well-fed WKY hillbillies were loitering around the car next to mine. They were emptying out not one, not two, but three grocery carts of filled little white WM bags into the trunk of this car, which as it turned out, was a Crown Victoria. Let's just say none of these folks have been strangers to gravy, shall we? My kids and I managed to squeeze past them (I'm not exaggerating here) to get into our car, and once we started up and were ready to back out I realized that all six (or possibly seven) of the hillbillies had jampacked themselves into that Crown Vic. As I pulled away from my parking spot I had the vision that has stuck with me all this evening....a nice burgandy sedan fiilled to the brim with large folks wearing overalls and polyester. And in the trunk? A whole weeks' worth of Little Debbie, smokes and cleaning supplies.
I'll say this for them...at least they carpooled.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Thank you, Dad
Thank you Dad for teaching me to fish, and making me learn to put both minnows and worms on my own hook, even though you never made me have to take off the fish I caught. Your amusement and delight over each fish I caught made the trips to Tunnel or to Fellows Lake or to the Hamilton pond a joy. I'm sorry you had to set your own rig down so often to accomodate me. Thank you also for just cutting the line when I caught a snapping turtle that time. Some things just don't need to be dealt with.
Thank you Dad for teaching me how to check the oil in my car...a task I find useful still.
Thank you Dad for making me mow the lawn. I actually enjoyed it, and learned to "drive" whipping the Snapper riding mower around the back yard of our house.
Thank you Dad for making me learn to drive a standard transmission...and for just showing me once how to do it, then insisting I go out on my own to get the hang of it. As embarassed as I was to be jolting around town in leaps and spurts, I soon learned it, and again, it is a knowledge I still find useful.
Thank you Dad for "eating" the green tomato and sawdust pies I made you on those afternoons and evenings I played in the shop while you did woodworking.
Thank you Dad for making the best pancakes and homemade ice cream I've ever had.
Thank you Dad for reading aloud the nonsensical typewritten notes I would leave on your plate at lunch when I was very little. I can still remember your attempts to pronounce the words I had punched out on that old manual typewriter, just because I loved the sound of the keys slapping the paper.
Thank you Dad for making me a Cardinals fan...even though they are terrible this year.
Thank you Dad for driving me to school instead of making me ride the bus once I told you how awful the bus was. I still remember cold, frosty mornings riding in the Catalina down Route 66, with KTTS on the radio, and your hardhat in the backseat with the Willy the Wirehand logo on it.
Thank you Dad for buying me a box of my favorite Russell Stover chocolates for Valentines Day when I was in high school and boyfriend-less. I still remember how that made me feel loved and much better.
Thank you Dad for getting me through algebra, although I must have sorely tested your patience. I made a good solid "B" and I know you were as proud of that as I was, although you must have seriously wondered if I had ANY of your genetic material in me based on how hard I struggled with it.
Thank you Dad for playing symponies on your stereo. And for playing my John Denver records too.
Thank you Dad, for being the father that you were.
Thank you Dad for teaching me how to check the oil in my car...a task I find useful still.
Thank you Dad for making me mow the lawn. I actually enjoyed it, and learned to "drive" whipping the Snapper riding mower around the back yard of our house.
Thank you Dad for making me learn to drive a standard transmission...and for just showing me once how to do it, then insisting I go out on my own to get the hang of it. As embarassed as I was to be jolting around town in leaps and spurts, I soon learned it, and again, it is a knowledge I still find useful.
Thank you Dad for "eating" the green tomato and sawdust pies I made you on those afternoons and evenings I played in the shop while you did woodworking.
Thank you Dad for making the best pancakes and homemade ice cream I've ever had.
Thank you Dad for reading aloud the nonsensical typewritten notes I would leave on your plate at lunch when I was very little. I can still remember your attempts to pronounce the words I had punched out on that old manual typewriter, just because I loved the sound of the keys slapping the paper.
Thank you Dad for making me a Cardinals fan...even though they are terrible this year.
Thank you Dad for driving me to school instead of making me ride the bus once I told you how awful the bus was. I still remember cold, frosty mornings riding in the Catalina down Route 66, with KTTS on the radio, and your hardhat in the backseat with the Willy the Wirehand logo on it.
Thank you Dad for buying me a box of my favorite Russell Stover chocolates for Valentines Day when I was in high school and boyfriend-less. I still remember how that made me feel loved and much better.
Thank you Dad for getting me through algebra, although I must have sorely tested your patience. I made a good solid "B" and I know you were as proud of that as I was, although you must have seriously wondered if I had ANY of your genetic material in me based on how hard I struggled with it.
Thank you Dad for playing symponies on your stereo. And for playing my John Denver records too.
Thank you Dad, for being the father that you were.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Sgt. Pepper, Part 2
The Reenactor came home today with a gift for me...a CD of the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper album. He had never heard it as one album...just heard some of the songs on it, and I probably haven't listened to it in one continuous play for a zillion years either. We played it tonight, and wow...I didn't realize that the words to the songs have apparently embedded themselves in my DNA somehow, although I can't remember what I watched on tv last night.
The best part of having the CD playing while we were eating dinner was Thing 1 and Thing 2's reactions. They just HAD to get up and dance as soon as they were done eating. Thing 1 did some quite remarkably good, and "music appropriate" interpretative dance to songs like "When I'm 64"; while Thing 2 pretty much just stood on a stepstool like a dancer from "Laugh In" and wiggled around. If you've never heard the album there is a LOT of orchestral elements to it...French horns, clarinet solos, etc. At one point Thing 2 grabbed the last remaining crescent roll off the table and turned it into a faux trumpet to "play" along with the music. Considering he was wearing his Cars jammies, and Thing 1 had on a Mickie Mouse nightgown with a big pink bow in her hair, the effect was quite charming.
The best part of having the CD playing while we were eating dinner was Thing 1 and Thing 2's reactions. They just HAD to get up and dance as soon as they were done eating. Thing 1 did some quite remarkably good, and "music appropriate" interpretative dance to songs like "When I'm 64"; while Thing 2 pretty much just stood on a stepstool like a dancer from "Laugh In" and wiggled around. If you've never heard the album there is a LOT of orchestral elements to it...French horns, clarinet solos, etc. At one point Thing 2 grabbed the last remaining crescent roll off the table and turned it into a faux trumpet to "play" along with the music. Considering he was wearing his Cars jammies, and Thing 1 had on a Mickie Mouse nightgown with a big pink bow in her hair, the effect was quite charming.
Pork and Beans
Why is it that the big news organizations think that two of the top ten stories we want to see on their websites today are that the "wild" pig killed by an 11-year-old-boy in Alabama was actually not wild at all, but had recently been released to a "hunting" enclosed area (where he was fenced in to be hunted by 11 year old boys); and that Hugh Grant has been released from charges that he threw baked beans at the paparrazi.
Is it just me, or is this stupid? Aren't there truly more interesting and important stories we should be hearing?
All my kin who have ties to the media can refrain from answering my angst with all the corporate media cost-effective, who's your audience reasons...I know. Honestly, I know WHY these are two of the top stories (along with some stupid skydiver story) I guess my rhetorical question is just that...rhetorical.
argh.
Is it just me, or is this stupid? Aren't there truly more interesting and important stories we should be hearing?
All my kin who have ties to the media can refrain from answering my angst with all the corporate media cost-effective, who's your audience reasons...I know. Honestly, I know WHY these are two of the top stories (along with some stupid skydiver story) I guess my rhetorical question is just that...rhetorical.
argh.
Friday, June 1, 2007
It's wonderful to be here. It's certainly a thrill.
It was 40 years ago today—I just heard on the radio—that the Beatle's Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band album was released. This has to be in my top ten albums of all time, even though I don't own a copy of it. I probably wore my brother and/or sister's copy out at the time, and LOVED the music on it even though I didn't understand what the heck any of it was about (well I still don't understand what some of it is about!). But it had some great music on it, and the cover art alone was probably a huge inspiration for me to become a graphic artist. Anyway....if you haven't heard it in a while, here's the opening lyrics...I know you'll be humming it the rest of the day!
It was twenty years ago today,
Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play
They've been going in and out of style
But they're guaranteed to raise a smile.
So may I introduce to you
The act you've known for all these years,
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.
It was twenty years ago today,
Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play
They've been going in and out of style
But they're guaranteed to raise a smile.
So may I introduce to you
The act you've known for all these years,
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.
Monday, May 28, 2007
I dare you to make this
As I was getting ready to put away Mom's notebook that I referenced in an earlier post, I saw this recipe. I dare you Camper's to make it....I'll be eagerly awaiting your verdict on how it tastes! Oh, and for the record, I don't remember my mother ever making this, thank God.
Prune Medallion Pudding
Dissolve 1 package Raspberry (jello?) in 1 pint hot water and prune juice. Add 4 tablespoons sugar, dash each of salt and cinnamon, 1/3 cup cut raisins, and 1 cup cut cooked prunes. Chill until slightly thickened, then fold in 1/4 cup broken nut meats. Turn into mold. Serves 6.
Prune Medallion Pudding
Dissolve 1 package Raspberry (jello?) in 1 pint hot water and prune juice. Add 4 tablespoons sugar, dash each of salt and cinnamon, 1/3 cup cut raisins, and 1 cup cut cooked prunes. Chill until slightly thickened, then fold in 1/4 cup broken nut meats. Turn into mold. Serves 6.
Mom's daydreams
I found out this afternoon that this acorn didn't fall too far from the proverbial tree. I was going through yet another box of stuff from my parents' house and found a notebook that I think was in my mom's "recipe drawer" at the house I grew up in. The recipe drawer as I remember it was a kitchen drawer full of clipped recipes, product recipe booklets (like 100 Ways With Jello), etc. I didn't usually go through the drawer when I was growing up because Mom rarely actually used the recipes in it. She cooked from memory, or referred to recipes in one of her hundreds (no, I'm not kidding) of cookbooks she had elsewhere in the house.
This particular notebook was literally falling apart...it had no front cover, and was a three-ring binder that was just marginally holding together. At first I thought it was just some recipes she had written down from friends or relatives, but the more I looked through it, I realized that it was her version of what I called my "idea file" and I had actually THROWN OUT my own idea file just an hour earlier. (Remember campers...I'm trying to get rid of stuff in this house!). Anyway...Mom started this notebook while she and Dad were newlyweds and continued to use it well into their early marriage once he returned from overseas. There are handwritten recipes, clipped recipes from magazines like Ladies Home Journal, McCalls, Good Housekeeping, etc.; and there are floorplans. Mom had drawn out floor plans for what I presume was her dream house. She had attached clips of pages from magazines of specific rooms and decorating ideas she liked. There were also recipes for making things from scratch that you couldn't buy during WWII because of rationing.
The thing that struck me most about the notebook was how many different types of things Mom kept in it. It wasn't just a way to organize her recipes or household work, it had poems, and drawings, and daydreams in it. Needless to say her "dream house" never looked like the one she sketched out, but one of the clippings she had kept had a built-in glass cabinet wall separating the kitchen from the living room, that looked somewhat like the china cabinet in our home between our dining room and living room.
I have clipped recipes from magazines for years now, and tried to keep them in a folder where I could use them when I wanted...now with the internet I can much more quickly look up recipe ideas and have them in front of me in moments, rather than looking through a notebook full of clippings, so that's why I threw out my recipe book earlier today. But I'm keeping Mom's notebook. Even though some of the recipes in there are SO disgusting, in a Leave-It-To-Beaver-sort of way (Beet and Lima Bean Salad, anyone?) the things that she kept, that were important to her for some reason, are worth my reviewing from time to time.
This particular notebook was literally falling apart...it had no front cover, and was a three-ring binder that was just marginally holding together. At first I thought it was just some recipes she had written down from friends or relatives, but the more I looked through it, I realized that it was her version of what I called my "idea file" and I had actually THROWN OUT my own idea file just an hour earlier. (Remember campers...I'm trying to get rid of stuff in this house!). Anyway...Mom started this notebook while she and Dad were newlyweds and continued to use it well into their early marriage once he returned from overseas. There are handwritten recipes, clipped recipes from magazines like Ladies Home Journal, McCalls, Good Housekeeping, etc.; and there are floorplans. Mom had drawn out floor plans for what I presume was her dream house. She had attached clips of pages from magazines of specific rooms and decorating ideas she liked. There were also recipes for making things from scratch that you couldn't buy during WWII because of rationing.
The thing that struck me most about the notebook was how many different types of things Mom kept in it. It wasn't just a way to organize her recipes or household work, it had poems, and drawings, and daydreams in it. Needless to say her "dream house" never looked like the one she sketched out, but one of the clippings she had kept had a built-in glass cabinet wall separating the kitchen from the living room, that looked somewhat like the china cabinet in our home between our dining room and living room.
I have clipped recipes from magazines for years now, and tried to keep them in a folder where I could use them when I wanted...now with the internet I can much more quickly look up recipe ideas and have them in front of me in moments, rather than looking through a notebook full of clippings, so that's why I threw out my recipe book earlier today. But I'm keeping Mom's notebook. Even though some of the recipes in there are SO disgusting, in a Leave-It-To-Beaver-sort of way (Beet and Lima Bean Salad, anyone?) the things that she kept, that were important to her for some reason, are worth my reviewing from time to time.
Stop Loosening Your Skin!!!
It never pays for me to look through boxes of old stuff from my parents' house. I found this clipping from an old Life or Look magazine (not sure which). This wasn't the reason they had kept the clipping...there was a story about someone they knew on the back of this, but I'm still laughing about it.
Friday, May 25, 2007
bees
Sign seen on Interstate 55, approx. 5 miles south of Cape G., Mo. today....(on one of those flashing highway dept. signs)
ANGRY BEES AHEAD!
DO NOT STOP AND GET OUT OF CAR!
ANGRY BEES AHEAD!
DO NOT STOP AND GET OUT OF CAR!
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Financial Report to Campers
Since this blog originally started out as an ongoing rant against rampant consumerism, mostly fueled by my personal angst at how much of our income I spent at Wally World, I decided to do a quick check to see where we're at five months into my "boycott."
As faithful readers know, I DO still darken the door of the Store of Doom. There are just certain times where sheer proximity and lack of time makes it too cost prohibitive to go elsewhere....either on my checkbook, or my sanity. However, I HAVE made a dent in how much of The Reenactor's hard-earned money is now going to Bentonville, Ark.
Since I'm a Quicken-a-holic, I can easily throw these numbers out:
From Jan. 1 to May 22, 2006 we spent $3016.10 at W.M.
From Jan. 1 to May 22, 2007 we spent $630.90 at W.M.
20 percent of our original purchases!! TWENTY PERCENT, campers!!!!
As of today last year I had spent $2490.16 on groceries....almost entirely at W.M.
As of today this year I have spent $2805.87 on groceries....almost entirely all at either the locally-owned grocery store, or at Kroger.
Similarly, on "non-grocery" items, as I have them tagged in Quicken (things like paper towels, laundry detergent, etc.) I spent $656.19 as of 5/22/06; and $517.46 this year.
Sooo...I AM spending an average of 12 to 13 percent more on groceries, but 21 percent less on the non-grocery stuff.
I will add a caveat to the increased grocery prices....in addition to shopping the non-wally world way, we have also increased our purchases of organic products, namely organic milk, which is about three times more expensive than regular (but it is wayyyy yummier!) I have been spending a lot of those extra grocery dollars on food choices I was not making last year, and I account a lot of that difference in that way.
For those of you who still doubt that it is financially feasible to shop at stores other than W.M. (and I was one of those last year!) I would offer that it is definitely financially viable to find alternate sources for groceries and household products.
I find that once I got out of the habit of going there, and got my bearings as to where to get the best deals on different kinds of products, I really didn't miss shopping there at all. It no longer seems the obvious choice that it was this time last year.
As faithful readers know, I DO still darken the door of the Store of Doom. There are just certain times where sheer proximity and lack of time makes it too cost prohibitive to go elsewhere....either on my checkbook, or my sanity. However, I HAVE made a dent in how much of The Reenactor's hard-earned money is now going to Bentonville, Ark.
Since I'm a Quicken-a-holic, I can easily throw these numbers out:
From Jan. 1 to May 22, 2006 we spent $3016.10 at W.M.
From Jan. 1 to May 22, 2007 we spent $630.90 at W.M.
20 percent of our original purchases!! TWENTY PERCENT, campers!!!!
As of today last year I had spent $2490.16 on groceries....almost entirely at W.M.
As of today this year I have spent $2805.87 on groceries....almost entirely all at either the locally-owned grocery store, or at Kroger.
Similarly, on "non-grocery" items, as I have them tagged in Quicken (things like paper towels, laundry detergent, etc.) I spent $656.19 as of 5/22/06; and $517.46 this year.
Sooo...I AM spending an average of 12 to 13 percent more on groceries, but 21 percent less on the non-grocery stuff.
I will add a caveat to the increased grocery prices....in addition to shopping the non-wally world way, we have also increased our purchases of organic products, namely organic milk, which is about three times more expensive than regular (but it is wayyyy yummier!) I have been spending a lot of those extra grocery dollars on food choices I was not making last year, and I account a lot of that difference in that way.
For those of you who still doubt that it is financially feasible to shop at stores other than W.M. (and I was one of those last year!) I would offer that it is definitely financially viable to find alternate sources for groceries and household products.
I find that once I got out of the habit of going there, and got my bearings as to where to get the best deals on different kinds of products, I really didn't miss shopping there at all. It no longer seems the obvious choice that it was this time last year.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
78 years
That is the combined years of marriage celebrated tomorrow in my family.
65 years ago this week my father called my mother long distance from Ft. Sill, Oklahoma and asked her if it would work out for her to marry him as he passed through her town in Missouri in a few days on his way to Ft. Knox, Kentucky to his new post as a Lieutenant in the U.S. Army. Turns out it was the same day my mother was scheduled to graduate from college, so they just made a day of it...a wedding, commencement exercises, then a big family breakfast in their hometown as they made their way east on Route 66. The wedding was planned in just two or three days, and my mother had to celebrate this most important day of her life without her parents, as they lived in California and couldn't make the trip. It must have been the one small shadow on a day that I know she remembered so fondly all her life.
My parents knew each nearly their entire lives. They grew up just miles from each other, and attended the same small high school. But it wasn't until Dad was a college senior that he and Mom finally started dating, and the rest, they say, is history. Since Mom's passing last year I have been transcribing letters they wrote to each other for years as they dated, and after they married and he was sent overseas to fight in World War II. It is clear that they were passionate about each other from very early in their relationship...a passion that was evident until they were both very ill and shared a room in a nursing home together.
It was 12 years ago that I married The Reenactor, and I thank him for a dozen wonderful years of fun, travel, friendship, great days, and awful days, and the blessings of our children. I was thrilled to walk down that church aisle to him on that day, and would do it again any day that he asked. I feel darn lucky to be his bride.
And it was just one year ago that we witnessed the marriage of my niece and That Guy. It was really one of the best weddings I have ever attended, because it was full of joy, laughter, music, friendship, and so much love. I hope they are having a splendid first anniversary...I love you both!
65 years ago this week my father called my mother long distance from Ft. Sill, Oklahoma and asked her if it would work out for her to marry him as he passed through her town in Missouri in a few days on his way to Ft. Knox, Kentucky to his new post as a Lieutenant in the U.S. Army. Turns out it was the same day my mother was scheduled to graduate from college, so they just made a day of it...a wedding, commencement exercises, then a big family breakfast in their hometown as they made their way east on Route 66. The wedding was planned in just two or three days, and my mother had to celebrate this most important day of her life without her parents, as they lived in California and couldn't make the trip. It must have been the one small shadow on a day that I know she remembered so fondly all her life.
My parents knew each nearly their entire lives. They grew up just miles from each other, and attended the same small high school. But it wasn't until Dad was a college senior that he and Mom finally started dating, and the rest, they say, is history. Since Mom's passing last year I have been transcribing letters they wrote to each other for years as they dated, and after they married and he was sent overseas to fight in World War II. It is clear that they were passionate about each other from very early in their relationship...a passion that was evident until they were both very ill and shared a room in a nursing home together.
It was 12 years ago that I married The Reenactor, and I thank him for a dozen wonderful years of fun, travel, friendship, great days, and awful days, and the blessings of our children. I was thrilled to walk down that church aisle to him on that day, and would do it again any day that he asked. I feel darn lucky to be his bride.
And it was just one year ago that we witnessed the marriage of my niece and That Guy. It was really one of the best weddings I have ever attended, because it was full of joy, laughter, music, friendship, and so much love. I hope they are having a splendid first anniversary...I love you both!
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
finally, a kill
After months of trying to get our cat to kill one of the gangsta mice that lived in our house this winter—a task in which she was totally disinterested—she has made her first step toward earning her keep. This morning as I left the house a "gift" of a dead mole had been left for me on our front door mat.
Thing 2 was impressed, but wary. He circled it many times, but kept a distance. Thing 1, on the other hand, has her paternal grandmother's commonsense approach to dealing with dead critters, and picked it up and threw it in a bucket.
The drawing above is by Thing 2. He documented the corpse well....down to the weird pink nose.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
mother's day
I just finished a wonderful, funny book called "We're Just Like You, Only Prettier" by Celia Rivenbark. It is a more "Southern" version of my favorite parenting guide "Confessions of a Slacker Mom." First of all, a big thank you to my friend Whitney for loaning me this book...I have laughed and laughed reading it.
I'm going to quote a passage from this book...it is the only passage in the book that was serious, and given the last year in my life, very meaningful. It is the end of a chapter about making kids crafts out of macaroni.
********************************************************
...I know something more: that on those ong days when we in the sandwich generation feel squezed and spent and are tempted to grouse about being either mother or daughter, we should be fall-on-our-knees grateful to be both.
Because the truth is simple. Our time is fleeting and dear. As a good friend explained it, one day it is our mother who is buying us the Chatty Cathy that we begged for; the next, or so it seems, we find ourselves taking a baby doll as a gift to a mother in the nursing home. It has always struck me that women in nursing home beds almost always have baby dolls in their rooms. I suspect it is because they remind them of the happiest time of their lives. I know it is mine.
One day in a hospital room somewhere, you will hold a hand that you can't even recgnize anymore. It may be thin and dry and tiny, the rings way too big even with the guards you bought for her at the jewelry store.
Look closer and you'll recognize the hand that pushed you in the swing, the one that felt your burning forehead when you were sick, the one that stroked your hair the first time you had your heart broken and cried for a solid three hours.
For all of you mothers, for all of you who want to be mothers, for all of you "other mothers" who nurture children not your own, may you have a lifetime of Mother's Days filled with your own brand of macaroni magic.
I plan to.
********************************************
Thank you, Celia...that is a beautiful tribute.
I'm going to quote a passage from this book...it is the only passage in the book that was serious, and given the last year in my life, very meaningful. It is the end of a chapter about making kids crafts out of macaroni.
********************************************************
...I know something more: that on those ong days when we in the sandwich generation feel squezed and spent and are tempted to grouse about being either mother or daughter, we should be fall-on-our-knees grateful to be both.
Because the truth is simple. Our time is fleeting and dear. As a good friend explained it, one day it is our mother who is buying us the Chatty Cathy that we begged for; the next, or so it seems, we find ourselves taking a baby doll as a gift to a mother in the nursing home. It has always struck me that women in nursing home beds almost always have baby dolls in their rooms. I suspect it is because they remind them of the happiest time of their lives. I know it is mine.
One day in a hospital room somewhere, you will hold a hand that you can't even recgnize anymore. It may be thin and dry and tiny, the rings way too big even with the guards you bought for her at the jewelry store.
Look closer and you'll recognize the hand that pushed you in the swing, the one that felt your burning forehead when you were sick, the one that stroked your hair the first time you had your heart broken and cried for a solid three hours.
For all of you mothers, for all of you who want to be mothers, for all of you "other mothers" who nurture children not your own, may you have a lifetime of Mother's Days filled with your own brand of macaroni magic.
I plan to.
********************************************
Thank you, Celia...that is a beautiful tribute.
Friday, May 11, 2007
the winner!
By the way, the winner of the "name that shrine" contest was from my eldest niece.....
"Gnomenclature"
excellent!
Prizes will be forthcoming!
"Gnomenclature"
excellent!
Prizes will be forthcoming!
field trip
So it turns out to this novice public school parent that once the standardized testing is done at schools these days the whole idea of academic lessons being taught post-testing pretty much goes out the window. Thank you, Shrub, for that whole no child left behind idea. Apparently it applies to no child being left behind at the school from the field trips, movie marathons, fundraisers, etc. that spring up like dandelions in May.
So as to not sound TOTALLY like Scrooge here, I understand the value of rewarding the kids for a job well done in learning their material, and having some fun at the end of the school year. But, just this week, Thing 1 has had a "fun" day that included playing on an inflatable bouncy castle, watching a movie about Vincent Van Gogh (o.k.....THAT was cool); eating a ton of junk food; doing "gross" science experiments and I don't even remember what all happened.
Then the next day, her class (and I think some others) went on a field trip to ....ta da....Wally World. Yes. They. Did.
I asked her what exactly they did at WM, and she said they looked around the warehouse and saw where they put the bikes together. She came home with the second employee name tag with her name on it in a 6 weeks (see previous post "career day" from March). After WM, they went to McDs. So in one day they were "treated" to two major corporate experiences. And, for the record, once each week the lunch in the school cafeteria is Dominoes pizza. Thing 1 is now a fan of Dominoes, and only Dominoes. She is skeptical of any other pizza.
Granted, it certainly is NOT the first time Thing 1 has been in WM...lo, she spent much of her formulative years there. But I guess of all the possible field trips they could have made in this town that one seemed especially commercial in nature. There are museums here, historical and artistic; the library, the courthouse...whatever. Why WM?
I cannot remember going on any field trips when I was in elementary school. Of course that was a long, long time ago. So you younger whipper-snapper Kate's Campers.....what was your favorite field trip?
So as to not sound TOTALLY like Scrooge here, I understand the value of rewarding the kids for a job well done in learning their material, and having some fun at the end of the school year. But, just this week, Thing 1 has had a "fun" day that included playing on an inflatable bouncy castle, watching a movie about Vincent Van Gogh (o.k.....THAT was cool); eating a ton of junk food; doing "gross" science experiments and I don't even remember what all happened.
Then the next day, her class (and I think some others) went on a field trip to ....ta da....Wally World. Yes. They. Did.
I asked her what exactly they did at WM, and she said they looked around the warehouse and saw where they put the bikes together. She came home with the second employee name tag with her name on it in a 6 weeks (see previous post "career day" from March). After WM, they went to McDs. So in one day they were "treated" to two major corporate experiences. And, for the record, once each week the lunch in the school cafeteria is Dominoes pizza. Thing 1 is now a fan of Dominoes, and only Dominoes. She is skeptical of any other pizza.
Granted, it certainly is NOT the first time Thing 1 has been in WM...lo, she spent much of her formulative years there. But I guess of all the possible field trips they could have made in this town that one seemed especially commercial in nature. There are museums here, historical and artistic; the library, the courthouse...whatever. Why WM?
I cannot remember going on any field trips when I was in elementary school. Of course that was a long, long time ago. So you younger whipper-snapper Kate's Campers.....what was your favorite field trip?
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
coming attractions
Thing 1 is going on a ...shall I say..."interesting" field trip today. Very appropriate blog fodder.
More later!
More later!
Saturday, May 5, 2007
The shrine
All right Kate's Campers...I'm accepting your most creative name for this lovely shrine to ...um....ceramic things bought at flea markets? I pass by this every day on my way to take Thing 1 to school, and it has always amused me. Bunny on the left holds a sign saying "don't even think of eating the flowers" (there are no flowers anywhere near this thing); and bunny on the right's sign says "Critters welcome." Most of the other things are teddy bears, except for the elderly couple looking at a book in the background, and there is a little boy doing something in there...and the rocks around it are mixed in with sea shells.
What is an appropriate title for this?
The jam plan
To quote Monica on "Friends" -- I have a plan, and the plan is jam.
Here's my 100-mile strawberry jam. One jar already opened and sampled on biscuits....YUM.
Thursday, May 3, 2007
boys 'n NASCAR
I knew it probably had to be just a matter of time before one of my children, specifically my son, started being fascinated with cars, and, although it pains me to say it, NASCAR.
We are surrounded by NASCAR culture here....you see driver's numbers plastered all over cars, jackets, lunchboxes, tshirts, caps, etc. You can't go into a store without seeing some NASCAR-licensed item on display.
So Thing 2, who is totally into Matchbox cars now, asked the other day if he could buy a "race car with numbers on it." I thought he meant just a regular Matchbox car, so as a reward for putting up with a long boring day running errands with me I told him we could go buy one. When we got to the store he made a line right for the NASCAR Matchbox cars....wouldn't even entertain the idea of a "regular" one. He laid out all eight of the different cars they had their on the floor and carefully considered which color combinations (in the paint jobs) and which numbers suited him best. His ultimate choice, much to my amusement, was Jeff Gordon's car. He liked the numbers on it (24) and the colors (blue, with red flames on the hood). He didn't know, or ask, whose car it was.
When we went through the checkout the cashier exclaimed loudly, "OH ARE YOU A JEFF GORDON FAN? DIDN'T HE WIN THE RACE ON SUNDAY?" Think 2 looked at her like she had lost her mind. When we got outside I told him that the reason she had asked him that was because the car he had picked out was Gordon's. Well you would have thought I had said he just won a bushel basket of chocolate bars...."JEFF GORDON....I HAVE JEFF GORDON'S CAR???" Turns out all his peeps at school are Gordon fans, and they were going to find this new purchase to be COOL.
So now as I write this, Thing 2 is in the living room acting out a NASCAR race, announcing all the action using the names of three actual drivers, and pretending that they are looping and chasing each other around the track he's made. At school yesterday he was the most-favored boy because he had his 24 car with him.
A friend of mine, who has two young sons who actually watch NASCAR occasionally with their dad, and actually do know what the heck it is, told me that her sons are captivated by the drivers and their cars too. She summed it up this way, "to them, the drivers are Superheros. They have no idea who they really are, but they just like to throw their names around like they do."
Now if I could just get Jeff Gordon to convince Thing 2 to eat vegetables.
We are surrounded by NASCAR culture here....you see driver's numbers plastered all over cars, jackets, lunchboxes, tshirts, caps, etc. You can't go into a store without seeing some NASCAR-licensed item on display.
So Thing 2, who is totally into Matchbox cars now, asked the other day if he could buy a "race car with numbers on it." I thought he meant just a regular Matchbox car, so as a reward for putting up with a long boring day running errands with me I told him we could go buy one. When we got to the store he made a line right for the NASCAR Matchbox cars....wouldn't even entertain the idea of a "regular" one. He laid out all eight of the different cars they had their on the floor and carefully considered which color combinations (in the paint jobs) and which numbers suited him best. His ultimate choice, much to my amusement, was Jeff Gordon's car. He liked the numbers on it (24) and the colors (blue, with red flames on the hood). He didn't know, or ask, whose car it was.
When we went through the checkout the cashier exclaimed loudly, "OH ARE YOU A JEFF GORDON FAN? DIDN'T HE WIN THE RACE ON SUNDAY?" Think 2 looked at her like she had lost her mind. When we got outside I told him that the reason she had asked him that was because the car he had picked out was Gordon's. Well you would have thought I had said he just won a bushel basket of chocolate bars...."JEFF GORDON....I HAVE JEFF GORDON'S CAR???" Turns out all his peeps at school are Gordon fans, and they were going to find this new purchase to be COOL.
So now as I write this, Thing 2 is in the living room acting out a NASCAR race, announcing all the action using the names of three actual drivers, and pretending that they are looping and chasing each other around the track he's made. At school yesterday he was the most-favored boy because he had his 24 car with him.
A friend of mine, who has two young sons who actually watch NASCAR occasionally with their dad, and actually do know what the heck it is, told me that her sons are captivated by the drivers and their cars too. She summed it up this way, "to them, the drivers are Superheros. They have no idea who they really are, but they just like to throw their names around like they do."
Now if I could just get Jeff Gordon to convince Thing 2 to eat vegetables.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Grail cat
The offending bird returned this morning to taunt the cat, who was sitting in the kitchen window.
Our cat just performed the King Arthur role in the "French Taunting" scene from Holy Grail. She was out on our deck and the birds who live in the trees on our property were having none of it. One in particular—a mockingbird who was doing his impression of a Blue Jay—found it his job to taunt our cat. He (the bird) sat on the edge of our roof and clucked and chortled at poor Saffy. At one point she dared to try to get closer to him by jumping up on the handrail near the edge of the house, which only egged him on more. He flew from one point to the other along the edge of the deck, always enticingly close to Saffy, yet oh so out of reach. And he clucked and clucked at her, tilting his head to one side, then the other. The Reenactor and I both found it endearingly like Grail. Our poor cat is really frustrated.
bounty
Here's what I have purchased today....all grown in this county, or in the neighboring county!
Thursday, April 26, 2007
tball hell
For those of you who haven't had kids in the rarefied air of children's organized sports, we've had our first official hellish entry into it. We signed both kids up for T-ball at a local non-profit t-ball/softball association. We had been told by many parents that it was a great organization and the coaches and games were low-key (no yelling or screaming coaches). We primarily wanted the kids to get the feel of being on a team, and to have FUN playing some T-ball. Simple, right?
We should have left the day we went to sign them up. There was no way of knowing before forking over $40 per child when they were going to practice, or when they would have games...just a vague..."oh we'll let you know in a couple of weeks." Oooookaaaaayyyyy. So about a month later we find out that kid no. 2 has practice on Friday evenings; and kid no. 1 has practice on Sat. mornings. Still okay, but we don't have any set schedule as to when the actual games are going to be. Then last week we get a call on Wed. informing us that our kids were going to be in a "tournament" sometime in the next two weekends, and oh, by the way, we need to pull our time volunteering in the concession stand during the tournament, one stint each for each of the kids teams.
The Reenactor did his stint last Friday night. It was supposed to be for an hour and a half; he ended up staying over three hours. The kicker to this was that at some point in the evening one of the association "honchos" came in and started barking at all the volunteers about how they were doing things wrong. For those of you who know The Reenactor, you can well imagine how much this was appreciated.
Sat. a.m. kid no. 2 had his "game" which we were told would be strictly held to 80 minutes, and no score would be kept. I had a previous commitment that both kids were supposed to attend that day, so I took kid No. 1 to that, and showed up in what should have been the last 20 minutes of No. 2's game to watch him play...but that strict 80 minutes somehow went to nearly two hours. Now think about this....No. 2 is a preschooler. How well do you think a bunch of preschoolers did with standing in the hot midday sun for 2 hours?
We finally got a message last night containing the "official" schedule for NO.2's upcoming games. Of the ten games scheduled, nearly half are 8:30 P.M. games. As in a half-hour past his bedtime. Another two are 6:30 p.m. games...which means even if they DO stick to the "strict" 80-minute rule we will still be doing good to get home for a reasonable bedtime.
We don't even have the schedule for No. 1's games, although her coach has it. He says we can see it this weekend.
My "slacker mom" instincts are kicking into high gear at this point. What started out as us wanting our kids to have some quality playtime enjoying a sport they both like with other kids, has turned into scheduling hell. We're probably going to yank them from the program and just get them together with the children of our friends...who are also pissed about all this...to play an occasional game.
My message to anyone who is responsible for organizing this sort of activity...PLEASE take into consideration that young children need to be home at a reasonable hour, and so do their parents or caretakers. There is simply no reason this had to be so disorganized or confusing.
And here's the really sad part to me. Both kids are actually good at this sport. We love to watch them play because they seem to have some natural talent for it...and they are enjoying it. Both of them have good coaches too...and it is so nice that they are clearly doing the coaching to allow all the kids just to enjoy it. But the umbrella organization seems to be on some sort of power trip to make this a much bigger thing than it needs to be. This ain't The Show, people...it's tball.
We should have left the day we went to sign them up. There was no way of knowing before forking over $40 per child when they were going to practice, or when they would have games...just a vague..."oh we'll let you know in a couple of weeks." Oooookaaaaayyyyy. So about a month later we find out that kid no. 2 has practice on Friday evenings; and kid no. 1 has practice on Sat. mornings. Still okay, but we don't have any set schedule as to when the actual games are going to be. Then last week we get a call on Wed. informing us that our kids were going to be in a "tournament" sometime in the next two weekends, and oh, by the way, we need to pull our time volunteering in the concession stand during the tournament, one stint each for each of the kids teams.
The Reenactor did his stint last Friday night. It was supposed to be for an hour and a half; he ended up staying over three hours. The kicker to this was that at some point in the evening one of the association "honchos" came in and started barking at all the volunteers about how they were doing things wrong. For those of you who know The Reenactor, you can well imagine how much this was appreciated.
Sat. a.m. kid no. 2 had his "game" which we were told would be strictly held to 80 minutes, and no score would be kept. I had a previous commitment that both kids were supposed to attend that day, so I took kid No. 1 to that, and showed up in what should have been the last 20 minutes of No. 2's game to watch him play...but that strict 80 minutes somehow went to nearly two hours. Now think about this....No. 2 is a preschooler. How well do you think a bunch of preschoolers did with standing in the hot midday sun for 2 hours?
We finally got a message last night containing the "official" schedule for NO.2's upcoming games. Of the ten games scheduled, nearly half are 8:30 P.M. games. As in a half-hour past his bedtime. Another two are 6:30 p.m. games...which means even if they DO stick to the "strict" 80-minute rule we will still be doing good to get home for a reasonable bedtime.
We don't even have the schedule for No. 1's games, although her coach has it. He says we can see it this weekend.
My "slacker mom" instincts are kicking into high gear at this point. What started out as us wanting our kids to have some quality playtime enjoying a sport they both like with other kids, has turned into scheduling hell. We're probably going to yank them from the program and just get them together with the children of our friends...who are also pissed about all this...to play an occasional game.
My message to anyone who is responsible for organizing this sort of activity...PLEASE take into consideration that young children need to be home at a reasonable hour, and so do their parents or caretakers. There is simply no reason this had to be so disorganized or confusing.
And here's the really sad part to me. Both kids are actually good at this sport. We love to watch them play because they seem to have some natural talent for it...and they are enjoying it. Both of them have good coaches too...and it is so nice that they are clearly doing the coaching to allow all the kids just to enjoy it. But the umbrella organization seems to be on some sort of power trip to make this a much bigger thing than it needs to be. This ain't The Show, people...it's tball.
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