Sunflower Optimism

Belated Tribute

2007-09-17T10:20:00.000-04:00

As some of you know, I started blogging with an entry for 9/11, last year. This year, I was almost relieved that the day was rainy and gloomy - anything but that beautiful, crystal clear blue sky of 2001. A friend came over for lunch on 9/11. After she left I realized how very thankful I was for her company, on this most solemn and difficult day. I did not personally lose a loved one on 9/11, although my husband was in the city that day. My only connection to 9/11 is being a born and raised New Yorker - with a husband and daughter in the city every day now. Yet the anniversary of the date still throws me into turmoil and I can't bear to turn the TV on at all on 9/11. I don't let it dictate my daily life, but it is part of the fabric of my life.

My husband recently sent me this link for a Budweiser commercial. It was only aired once, as they did not want to make money from it. I mentioned in my last post about how we saw the magnificent Clydesdales in St. Louis and so I thought I would share this link:

Budweiser Tribute

We lost 2,974 souls in the combined attacks on 9/11; we have since lost 3,768 US soldiers in the Iraqi war. Why? I, for one, don't feel any safer. Just sadder, for all our losses.

May God rest their souls and bring peace to their families.

Where I Was. . . or Where Was I?

2007-08-20T14:19:00.000-04:00

I truly appreciate every one's concern. I have been away for quite a while. Life just keeps getting in the way.

Since April I have putting a lot of energy into starting a company. In my lifetime I have gone from a career in metallurgical engineering, to one in decorative painting and now on to jewelry. The painting started as a hobby when my children were young and I was fortunate enough to be able to be a stay-at-home mom. It soon developed into a business with great flexibility. The jewelry also started as a hobby (okay, an obsession, LOL) and developed into a tiny business after I had to give up the painting a couple of years ago due to rheumatoid arthritis. Last summer I became a consultant for Luxe Jewels, a jewelry company I found interesting. It was a party format (like Tupperware) only at the party I could teach people how to make jewelry. I loved jewelry and teaching so this was a great match for me - especially since Luxe encouraged consultants to also sell their own personal designs at the parties. Luxe soon discovered that not everyone wanted to make their own jewelry, so they also came out with ready-to-wear styles in the last catalog. I have been doing well with the Luxe, well enough that I want to split my personal design business away from the Luxe, so I have been trying to build both businesses, which has been time consuming. I have sponsored several consultants and am really enjoying that aspect of the business, as I have been calling upon the project management skills I learned as an engineer. I have been devoting most of my energy to Luxe because I am at a ground floor level opportunity right now and want to build that business up as much as I can, as soon as I can. Besides, I've promised my husband to make enough money so he can retire :-) I was in San Francisco for the Luxe convention the first week of August and had a great time, drooled over the new jewelry - and I even earned a vacation to Cancun, for my sales last year. I enjoyed meeting our company founder and president at convention - Jessica Herrin is a brilliant young (34) woman who also co-founded WeddingChannel.com when she was still in grad school. At any rate, I'm having fun with it :-)

I am also working on my personal business, but that is moving more slowly. I have a friend who is a graphic artist, working on my branding; she created my logo and is now working on business papers for me. Then another friend will be building my web site. I really want to build a brand, much as Luxe is doing.

In May my son came back from his first year of college. In addition to being a year "smarter" he came back a state-certified EMT. Along with his 15 college credits, he opted to take an EMT course, which was an additional 8 hours of classroom instruction per week, not including assignments and practices and Saturday sessions. I think this is his proudest accomplishment to date because it was something he did completely on his own, with zero prompting or input from mom and dad. He volunteers with his college EMS and surprised me with "EMT trivia." Can you guess what is the most common cause for EMT calls at college? No, not drunk students, but sports injuries! Okay, I have to admit I was a little surprised - and more than a little relieved! My son also applied for, and received, reciprocal EMT status in our home state and volunteers with our local FD EMS .

Soon after he came back, we flew out to St. Louis for my daughter's college graduation. Tim Russert was an excellent commencement speaker. This being our first time back in St. Louis since we dropped her off as a freshman, we took almost a week to explore the area and visit the Arch, zoo, art museum - and of course the brewery tour! I loved seeing the Clydesdales on the tour and also enjoyed the decorative work on the old parts of the brewery - delicate wrought iron work, beautiful mosaics and gorgeous decorative painting. The craftsmanship in some of the old buildings was just amazing.

June included a vacation to Florida, for which I needed a vacation when I got back. I had to put a last minute trip together when I finally got both my children's summer work schedules and the only place I could book with our timeshare was Orlando. So we did the Disney/Universal thing. Only my children are not babies anymore. There were no more stops for "nap time" or taking the afternoon off to sit by the hotel pool. Oh no! It was go go go all day long and into the night. Someone needed a nap time - and it was ME!

In July, my daughter started intensive training for Teach For America, teaching children in summer school during the morning and taking classes herself, in the afternoon - then writing up lesson plans late into the early morning hours. If she got five hours sleep a night, it was a lot. For all you teachers out there, my daughter - who was always a straight A student and who went to a top university - told me that writing lesson plans was the hardest thing she has ever had to do. Of course she also had to go apartment shopping because she needed a place to live by August 1st. It all came together for her - she got through the training, moved into her "cosy" (read: "tiny"!) apartment and we even went over to paint a couple of weeks ago. I still have the "Spicy Buttercup" paint in my hair to prove it, or so they tell me.

In July we also had some problems with my brother who has mental health issues, either compounded by, or caused by, being a drug addict for better than 30 years. It is so difficult to see someone we love make bad choices, time and time again, especially when it affects others, such as his children or my parents. There is no way to reach my brother as he plays the "victim" card and refuses to acknowledge he needs help.

Last week, we lost my dear mother-in-law. The one comment everyone made at the wake was how great she looked. The family had opted for an open coffin for family viewing, but closed for the public. Well, they decided to leave it open the whole time because she looked so good. She had been suffering for a couple of years with her illness and that took its toll. It was wonderful to see her at the end with all the pain and suffering erased from her face and to remember what she had been like before her illness. A wise priest of mine had once told me that death was the "ultimate healing" - looking at her, I could believe that. Of course, it was still very difficult for all of us, more so for my father-in-law who was so devoted to her and took care of everything the last two years.

Last week we also found out my husband's sister has breast cancer. We have been waiting to get past the funeral to deal with that and will know more after she goes for a consult at Sloan-Kettering tomorrow.

So there are my past few months, summed up in several paragraphs, some happy, some sad. But really, although my time has been at a premium, I do think there is one other reason that I have not corresponded here in a long time. As I mentioned earlier, I have a brother who is an addict. My father is also a recovering addict - not to drugs, but to gambling. He wreaked havoc on my family because of this when I was growing up, but has since been in a 12 step program for gamblers, for many years. Because of such addictive tendencies in my family, I always worry that I too may fall into it. When I start to get the tiniest bit compulsive about something I panic that I may be getting addicted. I think this was at the back of my mind with the blogging, where I was trying to comment and keep up with what everyone was writing, as well as coming up with my own blog essays. I knew it was taking up too much of my time, but I still kept up, not good with figuring out how to do things in moderation. Until I hit that "panic point" where I thought blogging could become one of those addictive things. Then I just quit, completely.

I have read your kind comments and concern over the months and I felt badly, knowing I should explain. So there you have it. I will try moderation for now, stick to a "once in a while" blog entry and comments and put blinders on for the rest and see how I do. I would love to catch up with all of your blogs, but won't permit myself to do so yet. I may not have that addictive personality that runs in my family, but I am fearful that I might.

No Coincidences

2007-04-16T23:36:00.000-04:00

In November 2000, I found myself sitting in the office of a breast surgeon. She had examined me and was studying my radiographs. "We can't tell for sure without a biopsy." I was numb as I made the surgery appointment and walked in the dark to my car. I could only think of my dear friend Charlene, who was on the losing side of a seven year battle with breast cancer.

I was sitting in my car and shaking, shaking so much that I could not turn the key. I remember saying out loud "God I'm so scared." I finally gathered myself and turned the car on. My car had a fully loaded six CD changer set to random play and when I turned the ignition on, the music started. The very first lyrics I heard knocked the breath out of me. Here I was, as scared as I've ever been in my life and I was given the only two words that could possibly ease my panic.

The lyrics I heard? "Fear destroys." I firmly believe there are no coincidences and I knew those words were a gift to me. I realized then and there that fear was a useless emotion and I was somehow able to put it aside. Once the fear was gone, what I found instead was an awareness of feeling protected and a certainty I would get through this - no matter the outcome of the biopsy. Thankfully, my biopsy was negative.

Why relate this story now? I recently had another abnormal exam. But this time I did not let the fear seize me. I had learned my lesson, once and for all - "fear destroys." Yes, the fear automatically welled - but I was immediately able to banish it. Fear was quickly replaced with optimism, patience and strength. Once again, I was blessed with negative results.

Sadly, I lost my dear friend Charlene in January 2001. I think of her everyday. Not only because I miss her, but because I still marvel at the tremendous faith she had for seven years, as the cancer ravaged her. Up until the end, she was optimistic and sure of a cure. She had obviously discovered that "fear destroys" long before I did. Fear was never in her vocabulary, not even when facing death. As a former priest of mine said, sometimes death is the ultimate healing. I think Charlene knew that.

Easter Blessings!

2007-04-11T15:10:00.000-04:00

Wishing all my friends Easter blessings. If you are not Christian, then consider it the blessing of Spring - of warmth, renewal and hope. You may think it odd that I am posting Easter wishes, several days after the fact. However, in my church, the week after Easter is called "Bright Week" - the Easter celebration traditionally lasted all week long. For forty days after Easter we continue to rejoice and we customarily greet each other with "Christ is risen," to which the response is "Truly he is risen."

Our daffodils have been stymied in their attempt to bloom. There is a coldness that has settled in and it won't leave. I promise photos when they do bloom. On Easter morning, my husband found a mere dozen that had been brave enough to open in the freezing weather and cut them to adorn our breakfast table. He knows it's not Easter without our daffodils. While we wait patiently for the daffodils, here is a beautiful bowl of the traditional red eggs that my Mom made for Easter.

They're Coming!

2007-03-28T16:55:00.000-04:00

Can you see them? Just short stems, right now, but in a few days they will put on a spectacular show. The day I have been waiting for has finally arrived! Yes, the daffodils are coming! It is REALLY spring!

We have a wooded area on our front property and every spring, we have hundreds of daffodils that bloom. I kid you not - one season I deadheaded all the ones that were left and I counted over a thousand daffodils, including the dozens I gave away.

We never planted them. They are a gift from God every year. They are freely given to me and I, in turn, love to give them away. I give away at least thirty dozen every season and it doesn't even make a dent in what's left. These sunny yellow flowers put such a smile on everyone's face, but nowhere more than on my own. I wish I could give you each dozens!

Happy Spring - wishing you all warmth, sunshine, peace and happiness.

Friends

2007-03-16T14:18:00.000-04:00

My son just called from college.

"Mom can you do me a favor?"

Sigh, "What?"

"Can you tape the Villanova game for me tonight?"

"Why? Aren't you going to watch it?" My son and his friends all "bleed Villanova Blue," so I wondered what could possibly keep him from watching the game, especially on a Friday night.

"No, I was kind of in the hospital all last night."

"WHAT??? Are you okay? What happened???"

"I'm fine it was my friend - he was having seizures."

My son's friend, Matt, spontaneously started having seizures last night. My son is halfway through his EMT training, so Matt's roommate raced to get him. My son quickly recognized that this was beyond him and they immediately called the EMS squad, who took Matt to the hospital. The doctors were able to stabilize him, thank God. My son and a few other friends spent the night in the hospital waiting room. Matt's parents are having a hard time getting a flight from their home in Belgium, because of the weather. The boys are taking turns staying at the hospital with Matt, until his parents arrive.

The devotion of this group of friends, who only met last September as freshman, deeply touched my heart.

It brought to mind another group of friends, also met last September. A wonderful group of friends, trusting enough to share their joys, their sorrows, their lives and their souls. Yes, you, my friends. I have been away for a long while, mostly taking care of my tiny but growing business - change of season means new jewelry styles and colors to put together. But my son and his friends reminded me of the value of friendship and how we need to be there for one another. In this I have been remiss, as I have not been there to cheer you on, empathize, laugh or cry with you. I will try to "catch-up" with all of you, little by little, and I will try to be a better friend.

My next post will not be so long in coming. As a matter of fact, it might even involve a lightbulb. . .or two!

Addendum: Still no news on Matt. His parents arrived over the weekend and he has been undergoing tests. They don't have a cause yet. He was able to talk by Sunday. I was speaking with a friend yesterday. Her 22 year old son had seizure disorder when he was a toddler so she has done a lot of research in the area. She said there are certain "thresholds" in life for seizure disorder - turns out onset is very common at 18 years old. I'll let you know if I find out more.

Addendum 2: I am happy to report that Matt is out of immediate danger. He is still in the hospital, but in a regular room, not ICU. He was put on lots of meds to control the seizures and is still undergoing diagnostic tests. He did visit the dorm over the weekend to say hi to everyone and my son said he looked much better.

Warm Thoughts

2007-02-23T13:27:00.000-05:00

Well, since Valentine's Day we have been virtually encased in ice here. I would rather have snow - at least I can shovel that out of the way. I long for warmth. I need green woods full of songbirds. I want to walk along a sunny beach and listen to the surf. None of this is happening in my near future, so I had to resort to looking at old vacation photos. I hope you enjoy them also, as I will be on "blog break" for a little bit since life and work have temporarily taken over.

Pretty in Pink! Hibiscus always reminds me of warm
. . .maybe because they don't grow where I live.

Jackie - this one's for you!
Cactus means warm and dry . . . although I'll pass on the prickles!

Once upon a time I knew what this guy was
. . . but he's handsome anyway, isn't he?

Aren't these three amazing shades of blue?
Let's go for a walk . . . on the warm sand.

How Many Repair Guys Does It Take to Change a LIGHTBULB? PART 3

2007-02-17T23:17:00.000-05:00

Well, I didn't want to bore my loyal readers with more of As the LightBulb Turns (or is it All My Lightbulbs?) but since Jackie is waiting with bated breath to hear more of the KitchenAid saga here's an update.

Jackie, you are correct, the repair was rescheduled for Saturday, February 17th.

On Friday I received a call from a customer service rep.

Rep: Have you received the lightbulb yet?
Me: Nooooo. . . was I supposed to? On February 9th I was told that the lightbulb had been backordered to February 7th and had shipped out on the 8th. I thought it was going to the service center.
Rep: Well, now it's back ordered until February 19th. You should receive it 4-5 days after that.
Me: But when I spoke to the rep on the 9th, she said it HAD shipped on the 8th.
Rep: Oh, we do that sometimes, we just assume that it gets shipped the day after the backorder ends. In this case, the backorder was extended. Just call us when you get the lightbulb and we'll reschedule your appointment.

At this point the thought of replacing the microwave is starting to sound appealing. But since that would also involve changing the wall oven, as the two units have one control panel it would be a VERY expensive proposition. Probably not going to happen. Sigh.

Tune in next week for another episode of The Young and The Restless and The Lightbulb.

_______________________________________________________________

Addendum - Really, dear friends, no need to leave comments (unless you really want to of course, LOL.) I think it's all been said. Just wanted to keep you all updated. Of course, if you really want to make someone happy, visit Dr. John; he has a wonderful blog and he lives for comments. Tell him I sent you ;-)

How Many Repair Guys Does It Take to Change a LIGHTBULB? PART 2

2007-02-09T10:15:00.000-05:00

This is the continuing sad saga of replacing the lightbulb in our KitchenAid microwave. This Saturday was to be the day. I called the factory service center yesterday to confirm the repair appointment. The very nice customer service lady offered to check on the bulb status. She found out it had been on back order until February 7th and was just shipped out on the 8th. It would take 4-5 days to arrive. If you quickly do the math, as I did, you will realize that this would lead to a third instance of a repairman coming to install the lightbulb - without the lightbulb.

So the appointment was rescheduled for February 17th. Although now, instead of a "first thing in the morning appointment" it is an "anytime between 8 and 5" appointment.

Just thought you would like to know. Sigh.

Part 3 to follow . . .

I Love M&Ms, But Enough Already!

2007-02-05T19:05:00.000-05:00

Many apologies for not visiting my favorite blog authors for several days. It will still take me a few days to catch up, but it was for a good cause. My husband and I, new empty nesters that we are, went into the city for a few days. We saw three terrific Broadway shows - Spamalot, The Drowsy Chaperone and Wicked. At discounted prices of course, because after all, we do have two in college now.

The tickets to Wicked were our most satisfying discount. The theater has a lottery, two hours before the show. We had tried five or six times before, since last spring, with no luck. We decided to give it another shot before coming home on Saturday. So we went to the theater, wrote our names on index cards and waited a half hour in the sub-freezing cold until they pulled out the lucky winners. Yes, as you have probably guessed, my dear husband's name was called so we "won" the opportunity to buy two FIRST ROW Orchestra tickets, valued at $110 a seat - for $25 each! Woohoo! The best part is that the show is sold out for months - and we were going to see it!

Well, we had an hour and a half to kill before the show started so we walked around Times Square a bit. Being chocoholics and slightly curious we went into a new "M&Ms World" store on Broadway. We walked in and all I could say was "I can't believe they based a two level store on a candy!" On the first floor we saw the M&M logo on everything - candy dispensers, pillows, onesies, tee-shirts, gym shorts, caps, keychains, collectibles - and of course, self-serve towers of M&Ms in 22 colors for $9 per pound.

Then we walked around to where we thought the stairs for the next level were and my husband stopped dead in his tracks, looked at me and said "You were wrong." I looked at him puzzled and said "What?" He said "It's not a two level store based on a candy. It's a THREE level store, based on a candy." I looked up past the stairs and by golly, he was right - there was level three, right above level two. My jaw dropped as we walked up to level two. We saw the M&M logo on oven mitts, kitchen towels, mugs, beach towels, car sun shields, kitchen canisters, luggage, tote bags, pajamas, jewelry, frames, party hats, playing cards, games, bibs, flip flops - and of course, self-serve towers of M&Ms in 22 colors for $9 per pound.

On to the third level where we saw the M&M logo on pens, lunchboxes, fuzzy slippers, magnets, pet coats, blankets, soap holders, toothbrush holders and toothbrushes - and of course, self-serve towers of M&Ms in 22 colors for $9 per pound. I have not listed everything available with an M&M logo - but I think you get the idea. What is more unbelievable to me than the fact that there were enough M&M logo products to fill THREE levels of a large store is that someone, somewhere actually thought this was a good basis for a store.

We did buy a small container of suitably colored M&Ms to send my daughter for Valentine's Day. My son does not like chocolate.

Oh - and Wicked was wonderful!

How Many Repair Guys Does It Take to Change a LIGHTBULB?

2007-01-30T08:29:00.000-05:00

Back in November, the lightbulb in our four year old built-in KitchenAid microwave burned out. We looked in the microwave and there did not seem to be a way to get to the lightbulb. So we took out the manual and looked through it. We couldn't find instructions for changing the lightbulb. So we called KitchenAid Customer Service.

Them: The lightbulb has to be changed by a repairman.
Me: What??? You are kidding, aren't you? Can you say POOR engineering design?
Them: "Would you like to make an appointment for a service call, or not?"

We made the appointment and called KitchenAid back several times, each time speaking to a higher level of Customer Service. Nothing doing, they can't help us and they certainly weren't admitting to a design problem.

Repair guy shows up.

Me: Where's the lightbulb?
Him: Oh, I don't have that lightbulb with me, it's a special order.
Me: So why did you come if you don't have the lightbulb? I gave them the model number and told them we needed a new lightbulb.
Him: Oh, I have to check to make sure it's really the lightbulb that needs changing and not something else wrong.

I watch him as he opens the microwave door, looks into it, then closes the door.

Him: Yep, it's the bulb, I'll have to order one and come back. Lightbulb and labor will be $175. How would you like to pay for that?
Me: WHAT??? $175? To change a lightbulb? I'll get back to you.

So I called KitchenAid again. I was livid that I would have to pay $175 to change the lightbulb every few years. No satisfaction. I got the name and address of the president for KitchenAid so I could send a letter of complaint. Then I called to reschedule the follow-up appointment.

Me: The file on this repair is still open. The lightbulb needs to be ordered and then I need an appointment for the repairman to install it.
Them: Okay. How's January 27th?
Me: When? That's a month away! Fine, I'll take it. Can I request a morning appointment? Don't forget, the lightbulb needs to be ordered. I don't want to waste another day just to have a lightbulb replaced.
Them: Okay. I'll put you down for morning, but the repairman can come anytime between 8 am and 5 pm.
Me: Okay, but don't forget the lightbulb needs to be ordered. Please let me know if the lightbulb does not arrive in time so we can reschedule the appointment.

So January 27th rolls around and my husband and I are waiting for our morning appointment. The repairman finally shows up at 2 pm.

Us: (in unison) Where's the lightbulb?
Him: I don't have the lightbulb. I have to check to make sure that's what the problem really is.
Us: (in unison) But someone was already here to do that!
Him: They were? Let me check the microwave, maybe I have the right lightbulb in my truck.

We watch him as he opens the microwave door, looks into it, then closes the door. Déjà vu?

Him: Nope, I don't have that bulb, it's a special order.
Us: (in unison - now we are starting to sound like the chorus of a Greek tragedy) So this is going to take $175 and THREE visits to change a #%*&#@ lightbulb??? How soon can this be fixed?
Him: I can come back on February 10th.

So the saga continues. . .

Just for the record, I will be videotaping this lightbulb replacement so that I can do it MYSELF, next time. Maybe I will learn how to use YouTube, so I can share the secret of the lightbulb changing with other poor souls.

Oh - by the way did I mention that KitchenAid is the name of the company that engineered this poorly designed product?

Book Tag

2007-01-22T07:45:00.000-05:00

Mamalee, over at Full Plate tagged me. Now, not knowing what proper "tag" etiquette is (can I ignore it? will a plague be visited upon my house if I do? what happens if I don't send it out to three people?) and having the means at hand, I decided to participate. Of course, I also had an ulterior motive - to "advertise" some of my favorite books!

The "rules" for the 123Meme are as follows:

For those tagged, here's what you've got to do:

1. Grab the closest book to you.
2. Open to page 123, look down to the 5th sentence.
3. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your blog.
4. Include the title and the author's name.
5. Tag 3 people.

Well, this morning I finished a book for a book club I belong to. The book was right next to my computer when I read the tag. For tonight's discussion we are reading complementary titles, one of which I am quite passionate about and have discussed in one of my early blog entries, Blood Done Sign My Name.

The other is a well known book that I have read before. When I asked my children if either had a copy that I could borrow to read, they both offered me copies; my daughter said it was her favorite book (and that she wanted her copy back!) Here are the three sentences from page 123, as required by the tag "rules":

"Slowly, painfully, the ten dollars was collected. The door was opened, and the gust of warm air revived us. Zeebo lined On Jordan's Stormy Banks, and church was over."

Of course, this is from To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee. If you haven't read it in a few years, do yourself a favor and read it again. If you have never read it, please, please do! It is a beautiful, but non-sentimental story, of the Depression-era South - with all the innocence, prejudice and moral crises of the time. It is also the story of a family, of a single father raising his two children and how he teaches them values in his own quiet manner. Gregory Peck won an Oscar for his starring role in the film, based on the book - a film that did justice to the book. While you're at it, find Blood Done Sign My Name. I don't know anyone who has read it and not been changed by it.

As for tag etiquette - I'm more of the mind that you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink. So consider yourself tagged if you have a particular book you would like to share. Let me know in the comments. I'll be looking for at least three of you!

A Froggy Day

2007-01-15T22:18:00.000-05:00

When my children were very young they mistakenly called those mist-laden days "froggy days." Yesterday was such a day. However we were in a rush to get on the road to bring our son back to college so I did not have a chance to take photos. Although my husband had the day off and would have preferred a sunny day, I was thrilled that today's weather was almost a replay of yesterday. I wandered out and was able to capture some photos of - well, not much, because as we all know, fog obscures and reduces visibility. It was strange being out there. Fog conjures up many emotions. It is at the same time mysterious, eerie, spooky, creepy, sinister, confusing, chilling, other-worldly and magical. There are only shades of gray. I was glad to get back inside to the warmth, color and light.

Without further ado, I present to you a little bit of "A Froggy Day."

My OTHER Blessing

2007-01-08T23:51:00.000-05:00

Last week was my son's week. This week belongs to my daughter. She is a senior at a top-notch university, double majoring in Educational Studies and Business, with a minor in Psychology. She joined a sorority as a freshman and my husband and I were both puzzled by this. Let's just say fraternities and sororities were not in vogue at our college in the early 70s. Our view of fraternities and sororities was similar to the stereotypes found in the movie Animal House. She explained that the frats and sororities at her school accomplished much philanthropic good and so she joined, even as we questioned if this extra time commitment was such a good idea in a high pressure school.

Over the years she has been elected to officer positions and this week she will be ending her one year term as President. Her chapter has contributed much in philanthropic work under her watch, the capstone being a fundraiser (or FUNraiser, as they prefer to call them) in which they made over $6,000 to donate to the Make-A-Wish Foundation. She has told us that the experience in running her sorority was invaluable and mentioned it was akin to running a small business. Along the way she has also found some lifelong "sisters" - something she never had before.

My daughter would like to continue her education with law school. She would eventually like to work in the field of Educational Policy and Child Advocacy. She interned with the Children's Defense Fund last summer and loved the experience. I believe her interest partially stems from watching the years of struggle as we tried to get support services for her brother who has learning disabilities. Her thought was that if two committed and educated upper middle-class parents had trouble negotiating "the system" to get an appropriate education for their child, what were the chances that parents mired in poverty could?

However, my daughter is taking a detour on the way to law school. Today she found out she was accepted by the Teach for America program. Teach for America is a very successful non-profit organization that trains college graduates to be teachers and places them in underprivileged neighborhood schools across the country for a two year teaching commitment. The application and screening process is very rigorous. Last year about 17,000 college graduates applied to the program and roughly 3,000 were accepted. But as my daughter explains it, the program is selective, not competitive - everyone who passes the TFA criteria is accepted. In addition to exacting admissions criteria and three rounds of interviews, the program is also successful because each TFA teacher really wants to be in the program. I can attest to that - when my daughter called today to give me the news she was so excited - she was jumping-up-and-down-shrieking excited.

Again, my husband and I had doubts about the wisdom of our daughter joining TFA. Why not head straight to law school? Why delay the rest of your life for two years? Why place yourself in a neighborhood that may be dangerous? Our daughter countered with perfect logic that neither of her parents - both trained as engineers - could refute. She was adamant in telling us that if she was going to devote her life to educational policy then she had better know what it is like to be a teacher and what teachers have to deal with on a daily basis. Can't argue with that, huh?

Of course, my husband and I are still concerned about the neighborhood she will be teaching in. Every day there are articles in the paper about random violence, gang shootings and students bringing weapons into school. But we can't think of that. We have to trust this 21 year old woman who has shown time and again that she can make good choices and knows what is best for her. We have to step back and let her begin her own life. She will be fine, I'm sure. I have a hunch even her parents will be fine.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

2007-01-02T09:24:00.000-05:00

Many thanks for your New Year's greetings and I in turn wish you all good health and much joy in 2007.

My apologies for not posting in a while. Of course there was our Christmas celebration where we had 22 family members over for a sit down dinner. Having survived that, we decided to push our luck. We hosted a small New Year's celebration - just appetizers and desserts - my favorite kind of meal!

For our final celebration of the season, I am very proud and happy to say my son will be receiving his rank of Eagle Scout at a Court of Honor ceremony this coming Friday. He has been involved in Scouting since he joined Tiger Cubs in first grade. I was one of two leaders for Den 4, meeting with the boys every week during the school year from second through fifth grade. The five Cubs in our den all stayed true to Scouting until they aged out at eighteen - four of them earned their rank of Eagle. The fifth, who marched to a slightly different drum, was not interested in attaining Eagle but has opted to "give back" to Scouting by becoming an Assistant Scoutmaster after turning 18. I am so very proud of all five of these Scouts, all of who I have watched grow up from youngsters into fine young men.

It is my job this week to make a scrapbook of my son's Scouting experiences, spanning his twelve years from Cub to Eagle Scout. We spent most of yesterday going through boxes of old photos, culling the better ones and pausing to reminisce over most; the Pinewood Derby competition, a trip to the Fire Department, camping in the mud, a visit to the local pizzeria to make a pizza lunch, making birdhouses at Home Depot, two weeks at BS camp in RI every summer, making toiletry kits for the homeless sheltered overnight at area houses of worship, cleaning up local beaches, the Philmont trek - and hundreds of other great experiences that make life interesting and worthwhile. Below are just a few of our old and treasured memories.

Our Tiger Cub marching in his first Memorial Day parade, down Main Street.

Den 4 excited to pose with the soldiers from a Civil War re-enactment.

Pinewood Derby time!

"Christmas" or Christmas?

2006-12-18T10:36:00.000-05:00

Letter from Jesus:

It has come to my attention that many of you are upset that folks are taking My name out of the season. Maybe you've forgotten that I wasn't actually born during this time of the year and that it was some of your predecessors who decided to celebrate My birthday on what was actually a time of pagan festival. Although I do appreciate being remembered anytime.

How I personally feel about this celebration can probably be most easily understood by those of you who have been blessed with children of your own. I don't care what you call the day. If you want to celebrate My birth just, GET ALONG AND LOVE ONE ANOTHER. Now, having said that, let Me go on.

If it bothers you that the town in which you live doesn't allow a scene depicting My birth, then just get rid of a couple of Santas and snowmen and put in a small Nativity scene on your own front lawn. If all My followers did that there wouldn't be any need for such a scene on the town square because there would be many of them all around town.

Stop worrying about the fact that people are calling the tree a holiday tree, instead of a Christmas tree. It was I who made all trees. You can and may remember Me anytime you see any tree. Decorate a grape vine if you wish: I actually spoke of that one in a teaching, explaining who I am in relation to you and what each of our tasks were. If you have forgotten that one, look up John 15:1-8.

If you want to give Me a present in remembrance of My birth here is my wish list. Choose something from it.

1. Instead of writing protest letters objecting to the way My birthday is being celebrated, write letters of love and hope to soldiers away from home. They are terribly afraid and lonely this time of year. I know, they tell Me all the time.

2. Visit someone in a nursing home. You don't have to know them personally. They just need to know that someone cares about them.

3. Instead of giving your children a lot of gifts you can't afford and they don't need, spend time with them. Tell them the story of My birth, and why I came to live with you down here. Hold them in your arms and remind them that I love them.

5. Pick someone that has hurt you in the past and forgive him or her.

6. Did you know that someone in your town will attempt to take their own life this season because they feel so alone and hopeless? Since you don't know who that person is, try giving everyone you meet a warm smile - it could make the difference. Also, you might consider supporting the local suicide hot-line: they talk with people like that every day.

7. Instead of nit picking about what the retailer in your town calls the holiday, be patient with the people who work there. Give them a warm smile and a kind word. Even if they aren't allowed to wish you a "Merry Christmas" that doesn't keep you from wishing them one. Then stop shopping there on Sunday. If the store didn't make so much money on that day they'd close and let their employees spend the day at home with their families.

8. Here's a good one. There are individuals and whole families in your town who not only will have no "Christmas" tree, but neither will they have any presents to give or receive. If you don't know them (and I suspect you don't) buy some food and a few gifts and give them to the Marines, the Salvation Army or some other charity which believes in Me and they will make the delivery for you.

9. Finally if you want to make a statement about your belief in and loyalty to Me, then behave like a Christian. Don't do things in secret that you wouldn't do in My presence. Let people know by your actions that you are one of mine.

PS - Don't forget; I am God and can take care of Myself. Just love Me and do what I have told you to do. I'll take care of all the rest. Check out the list above and get to work; time is short. I'll help you, but the ball is now in your court. And do have a most blessed Christmas with all those whom you love and remember,

I LOVE YOU - Jesus

********************************************************************************************************************

A friend emailed me the above and I got a good chuckle out of it. But then I started thinking - always a dangerous thing, I know, LOL. There are a lot of truths in it. Yes, I know the ACLU and other organizations are trying to "shut down" religious references in public. Christmas bears the largest brunt of this effort because Christians are the largest religious group in America. (for an explanation of the ORIGIN of the phrase "separation of church and state" please look to my reply in comments section of Don't Drag ME into This!; 19th comment down, or so, with posting time of 6:14 AM.)

The Bible teaches Christians to "do good" in secret and to not be boastful. When did everything get to the point where we are clamoring for public displays of nativity scenes and menorahs and God knows what else? When did it become important which religion had more or bigger or equivalent symbols out there? There are other ways to stand up for your faith besides all this silly bickering that is in the newspapers every other day.

I am Christian, but I think my thoughts would apply to other religious groups. Is it my town's job to bring Christmas to me? Or is it MY job, as a Christian, to bring what Christmas teaches me to the world? A "Christmas" tree - not so important. A Christmas meal and gifts delivered to an underprivileged family - very important. A "Christmas" nativity scene in the village square - not so important. Attending a Christmas church service with gratitude and love in our hearts - very important. The furor caused because a salesperson is mandated to wish us happy holidays instead of Merry "Christmas" - not so important. Treating everyone we meet with respect, patience and a smile - very important.

Whether you substitute Chanukah and menorah, or other religions and symbols, I think it all boils down to one thing. Don't look at what the world "owes" your faith - but look to find what good your faith can bring TO the world.

Merry Christmas!

A small santons crèche that I keep out all year round.
Santon means "little saint" and is a type of folk art
from the Provence region of France.
For an idea of the scale, the sheep is only an inch, tip to tail.

Beta Blogger

2006-12-16T22:31:00.000-05:00

Well, I think I managed to switch to beta blogger tonight. I think some of the other templates are pretty cool, so I may swap around once in awhile!

Before switching, I was having problems leaving comments on other blogs that had already gone beta. Some advice that others gave me was to choose the "Anonymous" option to leave comments. This does work - but please remember to leave your blog or screen name in your comment, since it won't appear if you post comments anonymously.

Meanwhile, If anyone has any idea how to change the column size, please share! I'd like to make the column on left, with blog lists, less wide and make the "story" side wider.

Addendum: Some things I like better about beta are easier template changes, easier to add blogroll links, easier to change font/colors and when someone comments and it shoots you a notification email it has that blogger's link right in the email. You can click and go straight to their blog with out having to go to your own comments to click on their link there.

Breathe Again

2006-12-06T20:09:00.000-05:00

Very early this morning a casual friend of mine emailed and asked me to call her. She and I are both members of the same online stenciling group. We have emailed extensively over the years and have even talked on the phone, but we've never met face-to-face. She lives near the university where my son goes to school, but in the few times I've been in the area we haven't had time to "catch up" in person.

I called her and she told me how she had just heard on the news that there was a gunman loose near the university. The South Campus, where the dorms are, was in lock-down mode. She was hoping I could call my son and tell him to stay put, wherever he was.

Do you know what happens to a mother's heart when she hears something like that? It stops. I tried calling my son's cell, no answer. I left an email message. I kept trying the cell. I finally called the university Public Safety office - they told me about the lock-down and that no students had been hurt. No students hurt. Take a deep breath. But where is he? Is he someplace safe? I called a dean's office and the secretary informed me that a suspicious man had been seen in the residential area across from South Campus at 3:30 am. The police came to investigate and the gunman shot ten rounds at them. Public Safety was notified and the South Campus went into lock-down at about 4 am. Take another breath. Chances are he was in the dorm asleep, at the time of lock-down - meaning he was still in the dorm.

I finally heard his groggy voice at about 10:30 am. Breathe again. He had not answered the phone because he had been asleep. Yes, college students can pretty much sleep through anything, even emergency phone calls from mom every ten minutes. My son's roommate had an early morning class but was soon back in the dorm room after being stopped by the lock-down - they had all gone back to sleep.

I found out that back-up was called after the gunman fired on the local police - along with a SWAT team and K-9 units. They never found the gunman. My son called later in the afternoon and told me not to worry, everything was back to normal. Maybe for him.

Several weeks ago The Rev. Dr. Kate posted a a wonderful blog entry on proverbs, quotations and maxims, called Words of Wisdom. I have just the one for today:

"Making the decision to have a child--it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." - Elizabeth Stone

Don't Drag ME into This!

2006-11-27T09:14:00.000-05:00

Several weeks ago, before the election, I read an article written the day after the NJ Supreme Court ruled that gay couples were entitled to the same legal/financial rights and benefits as heterosexual couples. President Bush's quote caught my eye. He reiterated his stance that marriage was a union between a man and a woman and said:

''Yesterday in New Jersey, we had another activist court issue a ruling that raises doubts about the institution of marriage. . . I believe it's a sacred institution that is critical to the health of our society and the well-being of families, and it must be defended."

Sacred? Defended against what?

I started thinking about this from my vantage point of 28 very happy years in a heterosexual marriage. When we got our marriage license at our local municipality, there was nothing sacred about it, just an exchange of paperwork, money and blood test results. Come to think about it, I'm not even sure we're legally married! A friend came with us as our required witness. She had to fill out a form where she had to put down how long she knew us. She put down ten years. I just gave her an incredulous look and we finished up. Out of earshot of the county clerk's office I asked her WHY she had lied and put down ten years when she had known us for four years. She said she was afraid that they wouldn't give us the license if she didn't put down that she knew us for a really long time. We were all hysterical laughing! To this day, we kid her about it. The next week our civil union was followed with a church ceremony.

But back to serious matters - the president's use of the word sacred bothered me. Merriam-Webster Online shows multiple definitions for "sacred," three being related to religion and one meaning "highly valued and important." I wonder which version of "sacred" President Bush meant? As the leader of this diverse nation, with separation of church and state part of the fabric of our country, I hope it was not any of the religious meanings. If he meant that marriage is "valued and important," well, yes, I agree with that. What I don't understand is, if marriage is "critical to the health of our society and the well-being of families," then why not try to include as many people as you can?

I also don't understand the part about how marriage "must be defended." Against what? I have read and heard people talk about how allowing gay people to marry will change their own marriages. I can't see this at all. My marriage is between my husband and me, thank you - it is certainly not going to be affected by what someone else does with their relationship. Could anyone seriously think that any of the following could possibly be true:

"Oh, Honey, a married gay couple just moved in next door - I can't deal with it, I'm going to have to divorce you."
"Dear, that married gay couple looks happier than us - I'm going to try being gay for awhile."
"Oh, no, a married gay couple in the neighborhood, keep the children away, it may be contagious!"

I really don't get it. Defend against WHAT? I'd appreciate it if someone could tell me how someone else's loving and committed family could be a bad thing for me or my family. I can't even imagine a scenario where a gay marriage would affect my own.

As for the school situation where a child has two "mommies" or two "daddies" - teaching tolerance and respect for all other people can only be a plus. Having a child who needed special education services because of learning disabilities, I am aware that there is far too much taunting and bullying that goes on in schools. If tolerance and ethical behavior were taught in every classroom, it is my opinion that this country would be in much better shape.

I would love to see a system where the government issued only civil union licenses, giving all couples the same legal and financial benefits. Then, if a couple wanted to pursue a religious marriage ceremony, that would be for them to work out with their own religious institution.

So for the record, President Bush, my husband and I are doing quite well. We really do not need any defending from gay couples, families with gay parents, or any of the gay people legally married in Massachusetts. Maybe you can concentrate on more pressing matters that we do need defending from - things like terrorists, the cost of healthcare, or the tax structure that favors the very wealthy.

Thanks, Velvet!

2006-11-16T17:44:00.000-05:00

I am working on another post, but meanwhile thought I might post some photos inspired by Velvet Sacks. She has been treating us to photos of her world . Sometimes, we are so busy rushing and doing, that we miss what is. I run past interesting little treasures every day, usually mumbling, "I have to get a shot of that someday."

Today was someday.

The most graceful and silent lawn mowers available. Residents of the horse farm, across the road.

"Shhh!" she clucked. "The worms don't have a clue. . . I've got my camouflage on today!"

When was the last time you saw a child playing in shorts, knee socks. . . and a beanie?

Do you think this white pine might make a cool climbing tree?

An unexpected bouquet of sunflowers from my husband.

Sometimes our treasures are right there in front of us - we just have to stop and take the time to look.

Dona Nobis Pacem - Grant Us Peace

2006-11-07T09:18:00.000-05:00

"There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Jesus Christ." Galatians 3:28 NRSV

Whether you believe in Christ or not is immaterial to the meaning of the verse. African, Asian, Australian, European, North or South American - we are all members of the human race - we all have the same DNA. One's country, social standing, wealth or gender does not make one person more "valuable" than another. Yet, everyday, people are killed senselessly, without a thought to the fact that each one is a precious person.

I am greatly troubled by the war and violence throughout the world. Three more soldiers dead in Iraq today; one newborn baby found dead in a recycling plant by workers sorting through paper; rape and killing continuing in Darfur. Everyday we see too many examples of inhumanity in our country and around the world - both within countries and between countries.

What can we do? Sometimes it all seems so depressing and daunting, the quest for peace. I started thinking about some of the the generic things we can do. We can vote. We can write letters to our representatives voicing our opinion. We can write letters to the editor of our local paper.

I spent the morning pondering what else I could do to make a difference in the world. I was in the grocery store parking lot and a woman was turning into the spot next to mine. There was a shopping cart in the way that she hadn't seen when pulling in. I put my hand up for her to stop and I moved the cart out of the way. She gave me a big, cheery and very surprised sounding "Thank you so much!" I had barely gone out of my way - yet she was so appreciative. That's when it hit me. I may not be able to stop the war in Iraq, single-handedly - but I can do a kindness for my neighbor. Isn't being kind to one another what peace is all about?

I challenge you all to do a kindness a day. Just one. Volunteer at a soup kitchen. Compliment someone. Donate blood. Go without a meal and donate the money to a charity. Give up a seat on the bus to someone who looks more tired than you feel. Leave a supermarket coupon on the shelf where someone else can use it. Let the mom juggling a baby go ahead of you at the bank. Use your imagination. Your kindness might turn someone's day around - it might even cause a chain reaction of kind acts.

It will take time and effort to achieve peace in the world. But meanwhile, we can try to achieve peace in our hearts and in our towns.

Many thanks to Mimi for her wonderful dream and call to action for world peace. Dona Nobis Pacem.

Namaste

My Lucky Day

2006-11-03T07:23:00.000-05:00

This morning, I was browsing my usual haunts and I passed through Dr. John's where I saw his link of the day for New York Nitty-Gritty. Being a New Yorker, born and raised, I am so excited about this site. I look at the photos and it is like looking at the city through my own eyes. Nitty-Gritty notices the same beautiful and quirky things about the city that I would.

In appreciation, I would like to share a photo of the city that I have been saving for a special post. Many thanks to Dr. John and New York Nitty-Gritty.

Today is my lucky day, eh, Dr. John? ;-)

Beauty and the Beast

2006-11-01T10:39:00.000-05:00

I recently read an article about why leaves change color. Turns out the leaves are always the glorious and varied colors of gold, russet, red, purple and orange. However, during the growing season, these beautiful shades are masked by the hardworking (and very green) chlorophyll. Chlorophyll is the wonder chemical that can take a little sunlight, water, carbon dioxide - and abracadabra! - turns it into the carbohydrates needed to nourish the plant.

But when the days get shorter and the nights get colder, the plant stops producing food. The chlorophyll breaks down and disappears, leaving the spectacular "true colors" of autumn to shine through. This artist's palette of color is short-lived, however because as the chlorophyll winds down, the branch grows cells at the point where each leaf is attached - soon the leaf will be severed from the branch and winter will be upon us.

Well, now that I've been a beast and force fed all this science to my innocent readers, here is the beauty I promised. Although I must admit, the colors are not as spectacular as in past years, so I will keep looking for better examples. This post was started last week and I've been walking around with my camera ever since, looking for some worthy foliage. I think the colors have been weak because it has not been cold enough for a dramatic change.

But I can live with that ;-)

This is the little tree-lined road, where I live. Every time I go home and pass by all this beauty, it reminds me to be thankful for every blessing in my life.

Oh Say an You ee?

2006-10-26T21:37:00.000-04:00

Please friends, file this entry under "Don't Try This at Home." For the past several days, my spae bar has not been working; even though I would hit it at the appropriate plaes, allthewordswouldruntogether. Well, this has happened to me one before, so I thought I would try the same fix.

My omputer is overed by Apple and I should have just taken it into the store whih they reently opened at the mall near me. Not neesssary, I thought. So I shut down the system, turned my laptop upside down and gently tapped it to dislodge whatever was under the keyboard. Well, that didn't work. So I shut it down again and got the vauum out. Remember, I have done this before.

So I took the leaning tool of the vauum and vauumed the keyboard. Just like last time. All of a sudden, I see a key missing. Uh oh. Uh oh BIG time. I grabbed a pair of latex gloves from my studio and emptied the vauum bag onto some sheets of newspaper. I then had to break apart and squeeze all the dust and dirt in the vauum bag. Dust and dirt that I never thought I'd ever have to see again, having vauumed it one already. I finally found the key after feeling my way through three quarters of the ontents of the vauum bag.

So my spae bar works well now and I hanged the vauum bag, whih really needed it. But I still have to go to the Apple store tomorrow. In ase you haven't notied, I'm missing the key between x and v.

Winter Color

2006-10-16T23:30:00.000-04:00

This past week I've been on hiatus enjoying the company of my favorite freshman, home from college. I've also been coordinating a blood drive which will take place today (public service announcement - please donate blood if you can - there's a desperate shortage!)

In between everything else I have been impatiently checking the trees every day. They are mostly still green. It has just started to get a little chilly around here, so I imagine they will soon begin their last hurrah of brilliant colors before winter sets in. Desperate for a color fix, I revisited photos I took while visiting The Gates last year, in Central Park.

The Gates was an art installation by the husband and wife team of Christo and Jeanne-Claude. The artists first conceived the idea for The Gates in 1979 and asked the City of New York for permission to install the work. Permission denied. Denied, denied, denied. They finally got permission from the new Mayor, Michael Bloomberg, in 2002.

We went to see the installation on a beautiful February day in 2005, after a new snowfall. We started off by going to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where we enjoyed a rooftop view of The Gates crisscrossing through 23 miles of trails in Central Park. What was astonishing was how crowded the park was! So many people strolling the park, enjoying the day and the artwork in the middle of the winter.

We spent the afternoon walking The Gates. Everyone in the park was smiling, friendly and in awe of this magnificent project - it felt like a party. I think NYC sorely needed a project like this - it brought a little fun and wonder to a city that had been grieving since 9/11. I think the art did not consist solely of The Gates - I think there was a synergistic effect of the installation and the visitors. It was not like a museum, where visitors go to look at artwork. I think in this case, the visitors were an integral part of the artwork. I think the ephemeral nature of the installation also added to this feeling of excitement - it was not something you could go back to. There was only a two week window for this exhibit. We were very fortunate to experience The Gates.

If you ever have the opportunity to visit the work of Christo and Jeanne-Claude, go - and don't forget to post photos for the rest of us!

Smarter Than the Average Bear

2006-10-09T15:55:00.000-04:00

Today I read an article about animal intelligence - is Flipper REALLY as intelligent as a human, or is that big brain just due to fat cells that keep the dolphin brain warm? What with the recent posts about dogs from Velvet Sacks and Ordinary Life I started thinking about our Tasha. She was a golden/labbie mix and passed on 4 years ago at the ripe, old age of 16.

Tasha was not the brightest dog; definitely not Lassie or Rin Tin Tin material. She never learned to play fetch - she played her own version, which we called "keep away" - she would run after a ball, but would not bring it back. She wanted us to chase her to get the ball back. She never did catch on to the fact that she had to bring the ball back if she wanted us to keep playing. Tasha also liked to watch TV - she would always bark at other dogs on TV - especially the cartoon ones. She was a funny girl, stupid, but we loved her anyway.

One incident comes to mind, though, when Tasha was about 3 and my son was about 1 1/2. We had just gotten back from vacation and I had picked Tasha up from the kennel. The kennel people had given us a biscuit to give her, but since she was prone to carsickness, I waited until we got home to give it to her. I plopped my son down on the couch, gave him the biscuit and told him to "Give it to Tasha," who was sitting next to him. I then stepped into the adjoining laundry room to get a load started.

All of a sudden I heard Tasha whimpering, so I went to see what was going on. My son had put his little arm, all the way up to his elbow, down poor Tasha's throat to try and get the biscuit back! Tasha was doing her best not to bite down or in any way hurt him. I extricated my son's arm - which did not have any teeth marks or other damage on it - and he immediately started crying "Tasha bit me!" For several weeks after, he would hold up an arm and say "Tasha bit me" to try and get some sympathy from various friends - most of the time we would say "Wrong arm, kiddo! and he would immediately hold up his other arm and continue "Tasha bit me" . He was too funny.

So, Tasha was maybe not the smartest dog that ever lived but she came through when it was important - she always knew to be gentle with children, even when provoked. A lot of humans could stand to be as wise as my Tasha was.

For My Guests. . .via Dr. John

2006-10-08T13:49:00.000-04:00

Well, although I can't get through to the list to verify, rumor has it that I'm on Dr. John's Marathon List. If this is true, Dr. John, I am not worthy, but I thank you for your kindness.

I hope this isn't "cheating," Dr. John, but I would ask guests to indulge me by reading a difficult post I wrote, Blood Done Sign My Name It is about a phenomenal book, written by Timothy Tyson. Although the subject matter is heavy, the book was wonderful and enlightening to read. Which is more than I can say for my blog review, LOL, but I hope you read it anyway.

Of course, if you are interested in "lighter fare," my last post, Do They Still Call It a Facial? should do the trick! It boggles the mind what people with too much money will do to relieve themselves of the excess.

Thanks so much for visiting and sorry, I didn't have time to come up with something new for today - we helped my mom celebrate her 75th birthday yesterday - and my freshman son is home from college for the week! All good things :-)

Do They Still Call It a Facial?

2006-10-05T13:34:00.000-04:00

Today I was flipping through the paper when I came upon an article on facials. As I read the article, I realized it was about "facials" for those OTHER cheeks. You know, the ones between your lower back and upper thighs.

I was amazed and continued to read how people part with $120 and up (way up!) for each session of various treatments including cleansing, detoxification, microcurrent therapy, microdermabrasion, massage and exfoliation of the old gluteus maximus. Who knew?

Many of the women interviewed said they do it to pamper themselves and feel good about themselves. I started thinking about what I would do with the "facial" money, that would make me feel good.

1. Buy myself a huge bouquet of flowers, or maybe two. Preferably sunflowers.
2. Splurge on an expensive technical book on metalsmithing that I've had my eye on.
3. Take an adult ed class and learn something new.
4. Donate the money to breast cancer research, in memory of a dear friend who died of the disease.
5. Send my daughter a ticket to fly home from college for the weekend - or just give her the equivalent in clothing/shoe store gift cards.
6. Send a box of goodies to our soldiers in Iraq, through a friend who is a retired Army nurse.
7. Take my husband out for a fabulous dinner.
8. Donate the money to our local food bank.
9. Buy my son a Mets team jersey.
10. Take a few great friends out to breakfast.

Hmmm, buffing my buns didn't seem to make the list. What would be on your list?

Lesson of a Lifetime

2006-09-29T21:05:00.000-04:00

Last year, my son went on the "trip of a lifetime" with his Boy Scout Troop. About a dozen of the older boys and leaders went to Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico for two weeks and 70 miles of backpacking in the wilderness. The photos above are some of the many he took (pretty good for a 17 yo, huh?) - but I particularly want you to pay attention to the last photo.

They trekked from elevations of 6,700 ft up to 12,415 ft. All they had was what they carried on their backs - a tent, water and freeze dried rations. They had to carry all their trash out. Outdoor latrines were the norm. They had to beware of wild bears and snakes - as well as some other critters, the identities of which he thought it best not to share with me. None of this deterred him.

At one point, they were at the top of a gravelly and very steep slope, much like in the last photo. Here, I am going to cheat a little and use his words from a college essay to tell the story:

"I found out that we would be climbing down 1000 feet in only 1/8 of a mile. If this sharp decline didn’t scare me enough, the guide told us that this section of the trail caused lots of major injuries. I was so scared I thought I was going to die. I knew that with the 70 lb. pack on my back, one slip would have me rolling down the mountain like an avalanche. When we finally got to the spot where we would descend, my legs started to feel like jelly. I realized that I had two choices. I could let my fear keep me up there and hold up my crew, or I could overcome my fear and climb down the mountain. The descent really wasn’t as bad as I originally thought it would be. Sure it was steep and there were many loose rocks, but there were also many trees to grab onto in case you felt like you were going to fall. From the experience of Philmont I have learned that I could overcome my fear."

I think this was a wise lesson to learn, at 17 - or any age.

Checkmate

2006-09-27T16:42:00.000-04:00

I just got a new cell phone, last May. It did not hold a charge well, so in August I went in and they promised to send a replacement. They sent me a replacement all right - but with no battery or back plate. I had to use my existing battery and back plate. Hmmm, wasn't charging part of the problem here? Isn't the battery the piece involved with charging? But hey, what do I know.

So now I have a phone that has a back plate of a different shade. Plus it still doesn't keep a charge. Last weekend, my husband and I both charged our same model phones, then left them both on all night. His was still fully charged in the morning; mine was dead. There's scientific proof!

So back to the store. They need to test it for 1 1/2 hours. So I come back a little shy of that and wait on line to pick up my phone. They claimed to have had the phone on a call for 1 1/2 hours and it dropped two bars of power, so it's ok, per them. Huh? I wasn't gone for 1 1/2 hours, but I won't quibble over minutes, there are bigger fish to fry here. I pleasantly asked the young lady what this phone was rated for on standby time.

YL: "200 hours."
Me: "Well, my phone only lasts 12 hours, so there must be a problem."
YL: "No, your phone is fine. The battery life depends on the phone options."
Me: "Hmmm - I have the same options my husband has, but his phone held the charge overnight while mine died."
YL: "Well, color phones use more power."
Me: "Ok, is the 200 hour rating for this particular phone?"
YL: "Oh yes, it is."
Me: "Does this particular phone come in a black & white version?"
YL: "Oh no, just color."
Me: "Sooo maybe I can assume the 200 hour standby rating is for this phone, in color?"

At this point, the young lady excused herself to go into the back room to talk to the supervisor. She comes back saying "We can give you a new battery, but you'll have to wait 20 minutes." Great, I'll be back.

So now I just have the back panel that is a different shade than the rest of my phone. I can live with that.

There's Wood Under Them Thar Files!

2006-09-25T16:36:00.000-04:00

Ok, I'm not the best housekeeper in the world, much to my husband's chagrin. But honest, I've really been trying hard since the kids have been off to college. Normally, I take piles of paperwork that accumulate all around the house and carry them over to the desk, where I place them and pretty much don't think about them again. For the past three days however, I have been exerting a herculean effort to reduce the Mt. Olympus sized pile of papers on my desk. I have forced myself to look at every single piece of paper and decide - right then and there - how to dispose of it. Could I afford to part with it? Is it something that I positively will never use again in this lifetime? Ok, reluctantly into the trash - after all, there MUST have been a reason why I held onto it - what if I just can't remember right now?

Well, on to the next pieces of paper. Into the receipt box. Into the medical file. Into the trash. Into the contractor file. Trash, trash, trash. Hey, this isn't so bad! Oops, I really should pay this bill, right now. Ok, bill paid AND filed away! Now we're getting somewhere. Is that an encouraging little speck of desktop I see over there??? Now to go through a batch of newspaper sections, looking for the articles that I had found interesting at some point. Hmmm - now WHICH article was I interested in? Ah yes - cut it out AND file it - remainder into the paper recycling pile. ATM receipts - filed. Checking statements - filed (oh, do I have to look at those?) College loan papers - filed. Recipes into the recipe box, where they belong, of course.

Trash, trash, file, trash, file, file. It's like an archeological dig. Is this really my life? No, I don't think so, which is why I'm so disinterested in it. But on the other hand, getting to see more desktop is exciting! Although I'm not quite sure why . . .

I finally see the full desktop! There's my stapler, tape and letter holder. But I also see a beautiful blown glass piece in the shape of a small milk bottle, decorated with random millifiori, that we had purchased at an art show; a spectacular red and gold glass piece from St. Petersburg, given to me by a friend who visited Russia; a handmade wooden box with beautiful inlay, that I was surprised to win in a free raffle sponsored by a fine craft guild; a Waterford votive candle holder given to me by my dad, one Christmas. Such treasures and memories. I had forgotten about them, buried beneath the everyday detritus of life.

I think I'll tackle another room tomorrow and see what other long-lost treasures I can recover.

Blood Done Sign My Name

2006-09-23T23:49:00.000-04:00

Well, I've tried thinking of things to write about in this brandy-new blog of mine. But every time I do, my mind heads to the same place. So I have no choice but to share a bit about a non-fiction book I read recently. It's not a clever or fun topic, so I understand if you pass this one by. But I really do hope you read on.

Blood Done Sign My Name by Tim Tyson, was the book selected for this year's "One Read" program, at my son's college. I can't say the last time I was so affected by a book - it gave me the chills. Tyson, who grew up in Oxford, NC, relates the story of how his friend's father - a white shop owner - chased, beat and murdered a young black Army veteran in cold blood. I was thinking how horrible the racial strife was in the South and how I'm glad those days are long over. Until I read that this murder occurred in 1970. I couldn't get over the fact that this happened in MY lifetime. My goodness, I remember 1970!

Tyson fleshes out the book with his personal experiences, growing up as the son of a minister during the fight for civil rights. Now an adult who is a Professor of African-American History, he has placed his experience within a historical context. He talks about how English law originally stated that the status of a child, free or slave, was the same as the status of its father, However the American slave owners changed the the law so that the status of a child derived from the mother. When a white slave owner fathered children with his slaves, not only were there no repercussions, but the slave owner was increasing his slave population, or his property holdings. Tyson talks about the history of slavery in this country - and how the crime of slavery was so great that the monstrous lie of white supremacy was devised to ease the white conscience. Well, I knew the crime of slavery was huge, of course - but I never recognized it as the reason for the birth of white supremacy. It all makes sense, doesn't it? I was a math/science person, never liked history and I guess I never put it all together until I read this book. What an admission of my stupidity! In my own defense though, I don't think the history books of 40 years ago delved into the matter in quite the same way as BLOOD.

Tyson, a white man, relates how he saw black people being treated as less than human, not so very long ago. He talks about what his father did to aid the civil rights movement through the pulpit. He discusses segregation, which resulted from the big taboo, of needing to keep black men away from white women - because of the old idea of a child's status being derived from the mother, how could one then justify keeping down a child born of a white mother and a black father? He also discusses the continuing intellectual and emotional toll on black people, caused by the idea of white supremacy.

The book is full of Tyson's observations and includes many interviews with those involved in the civil rights movement. He is able to discuss the civil rights movement extensively as an eyewitness; the peaceful marches, as well as the violence used to gain equality. Civil rights were never just "generously" bestowed on black people by the whites - they were a hard fought and hard earned "right."

When we went to Parents Weekend at my son's school, they had a Parents Book Club discussion about BLOOD. The large lounge was SRO and the refrain I kept hearing was "I can't believe I was so ignorant of what was really happening." That is exactly what I thought. I'm now 50, just three years older than Dr. Tyson. I grew up in NYC and had friends of all colors. I never considered myself a racist. But when I finished this book, I really had to take a good, hard look at myself. The following from the book really hit home for me - "Many people who care are mired in guilt, as if the agonies of history could be undone by angst." I care and I feel guilt, but I don't even know why and I'm sure it doesn't serve any purpose. I am first generation in this country; my parents are from France. Perhaps I feel guilt because I know my parents to harbor various degrees of racism? Perhaps I feel guilt for just being white and having a white person's privileges? Or is the guilt there because I see the injustice still existing today and have not stepped up to do anything constructive about it?

I am still reeling from this book - it has altered a perspective that I did not think needed altering. I have asked my family to read it - my husband was just as affected by it. It should be required reading in every high school. But what are the chances of that happening? Every high school in NC now has a classroom set of BLOOD with a study guide. It's a start. I have called my local school district to ask them to consider putting this book in the humanities curriculum. It is a gripping book, but very readable because of the personal context. If you get the chance to read it I guarantee you will not come through the experience unchanged.

I guess we still haven't come as far as we pat ourselves on the back for, when it comes to equality for all Americans.

Addendum - Just reread this post this morning - I don't want to give the impression that this was a dry book of just legalities and interviews. This is Dr. Tyson's engrossing memoir of growing up in Oxford, from the age of 10 to young adulthood. It is a life story, placed within the greater context of the civil rights movement. I don't care what color you are, it is a book not to be missed - and no, I am not getting any kickback royalties on it. Shucks.

Colors!

2006-09-21T11:59:00.002-04:00

I have been amending as I go along here, pretty much NOT knowing what I am doing. But today I taught myself how to edit the side bar - not completely what I'm thinking of, but it's a start. Then, I also wanted to figure out how to upload pictures. I love taking photographs, especially with a digital. I was trying to select a few photos to post, for "practice." In my "Interests" one thing I put down is color - I love color. When the fall hits here and the trees go all red and gold my brain goes on color OD. I can just stand and stare - well, maybe not for hours, but for a long time. I've picked out a few photos with lots of different colors and textures. I hope you like them too.

This was a beautiful sunset, from our last vacation. I just kept snapping away, as the sun sank, very calming.

This is from the south of France. My parents are from there, I'm first generation here. I suspect I'll be writing a bit about there, down the road. The stonework on this building was incredible, very detailed. The teal blue shutters were just so unusual, especially on such a stately building where one would expect plain, somber black.

This is a local spice vendor at the weekly "Marche" again in Provence, in the south of France. Can't you just smell the lavender, cinnamon, paprika, cumin - and the delicate dried rosebuds, all the way in the back?

Here are some great warm neutral shades for both the terrain and the beast. I don't know if she's a donkey or a mule, but she was sweet!

Hmmm. . . seems it didn't matter whether I selected medium or large size when uploading photos - both came out the same size. Will have to research this discrepancy further.

Mr. Toothpicker

2006-09-13T08:37:00.000-04:00

Last night we went to pick up a car that had been in for service at our local Jeep-Chrysler dealer. It was after hours, so I had to go into Sales to pay and get the keys. I walked through the doorway and I could see two salesmen at the back counter. One was standing in front of the counter, talking to the one seated behind the counter. The guy behind the counter had half his hand in his mouth, apparently picking at a back molar. He continued picking at his teeth, even as I walked up to the counter. The other guy asked how he could help me and tried some inane banter. I wasn't biting and just told him I needed to get my car.

Finally, Mr. Toothpicker extricated his hand from his mouth and said "Phil, I'll get the young lady her car." Phil said, no, that's ok, I'll get the paperwork. I was thinking, "Please, please Phil, get my paperwork, don't let Mr. Toothpicker near anything I have to touch!" But no, Mr. Toothpicker got my paperwork. Then he got my keys. Then he took my credit card. Then as I frantically and unsuccessfully looked for a pen in my bag, he handed me a pen to sign my charge slip. All with his toothpicking hand.

I got my car. Then my husband and I headed off for a quick bite at a local fast food Mexican place. As soon as I walked into the restaurant, I told him what happened at Jeep, and immediately went to wash my hands. Now, I'm not a neat freak, as anyone who has ever been to my home knows. My son has come back from a week of Boy Scout camp, crusted in dirt and bragging about how he ate ants on a dare, none of which phased me. But this toothpicking business was, for some reason, beyond what I could deal with.

Please, Mr. Toothpicker, although dental hygiene is an admirable quality, can you please save it for a more appropriate and private moment?

A Beautiful Day

2006-09-11T08:51:00.000-04:00

It was a beautiful day. The sky was a deep blue, with no clouds to water down the brilliant color. The weather was somewhere between warm and crisp - past summer's heat, but not chilly enough to require a sweater. You couldn't ask for a finer day.

I had gone to work and was glazing a client's master bath, about eighteen feet up on a scaffold. I was concentrating on the decorative painting and listening to my discman. All of a sudden my cell phone rang, which was unusual. My children were in high school; my husband was at work in the city. It was my daughter screaming "Where's daddy, where's daddy?" I was confused and told her he was in the city. She kept screaming at me "I know, but WHERE in the city?" I told her he was probably at corporate, and I asked her to calm down and tell me what was going on. She told me about the WTC getting "bombed" - details were still sketchy. She calmed down a little when I told her that her father was uptown and I told her I would try to call him. I was on my hands and knees on the scaffold, shaking and not trusting myself to be able to climb down. I knew when he went in for a corporate meeting they frequently had off-site breakfasts or presentations. He could be anywhere. No luck reaching him. Then my daughter called again and told me about the Pentagon. I couldn’t begin to understand what was happening.

My client came in from her tennis lesson and told me New York City had been attacked. She turned on the TV, but I was too frantic trying to reach my husband to watch. My husband's secretary finally called - they had been able to get a call out from corporate to my husband's office and she in turn was calling families to let us know our loved ones were okay.

My first instinct was to get my children and keep them safe at home. But was home safe anymore? I decided the distraction of being in class and with their friends was better than watching the horror on TV. I went back to work, so that I wouldn’t have to think; art has that power, to absorb one’s being.

When I finally got home and turned on the TV, my brain couldn’t take it all in. The wound in this city I was born and raised in, my city - where everything between Wall Street and Ft. Tryon Park had been part of my playground growing up. I could only watch the news for short bits at a time. We went to a special church service. We came home and watched again, all the while not believing, not understanding. I can still feel the love and community of that day – also the sorrow, grief and helplessness. For months after, the NY Times printed daily pages with a small picture and bio of each of the victims. I read every single one and said a silent prayer for each of them and their families. How could I not?

In the years to follow, whenever there was an especially spectacular fall day, I could never figure out why a chill would suddenly run through me. In 2004, I finally realized it was because of the similarity to that beautiful day, 9/11/01. I thought it was just me, that I was being freakishly sensitive. But no, after speaking to many other New Yorkers, I find it is a too-common eerie feeling.

I’m not a poet or a writer. I’m just a New Yorker. I am so very proud of my city, all it has overcome, how life and living continues despite the immense shadow of those towers that no longer exist. I can’t forget the enormous evil, the murder of all those poor souls. To echo the bumper stickers I still see every day, “I will never forget.” 9/11 is never very far from my consciousness, or any New Yorker's.

Today was another beautiful and perfect fall day. But here it is, five years later, and the wound is still as raw as if it happened yesterday. We lost 2,948 people - people like you and me - on 9/11. We have lost another 2,657 service men and women in Iraq since then. When does it end?