Thursday, December 29, 2011
The State of Washington
When people heard that Mary and Matt had taken dream jobs in Seattle Washington, they often said "Oh you will love Washington." This brought little comfort since my babies were moving 3000 miles away and to a rainy gray place to boot.
In the 2 months that they have been here M and M have claimed to have bright sunny days (including 80 degrees in October!) and even dare suggest that Christmas was so clear and sunny that they could see all the way to Mt Rainier.
Perhaps you have heard of Mt Rainier, considered one of the most dangerous volcano on earth. Tim my weather expert calls Seattle the potential Pompeii of the Pacific!
To help me with my own separation anxiety M and M offered to fly us out over Christmas break if we could bring out their 12 year old dog who gets carsick, and their little bunny who does not. We readily agreed and Don would sometimes say, as we staggered to bed, "Won't it be fun having a little vacation to Washington."
But it was hard to get excited or make little plans for our trip since I have never had an interest in the Pacific northwest, my baby would still be 3000 miles from me, there are volcanoes nearby, I had to transport pets who I would worry about, and I was until the very last moment overwhelmed with my Masters programs and every day life.
Well...we have been in Washington for 3 days. We leave tomorrow night to take the red eye home in time for Jamie's birthday. We have as you can imagine had a ball. I will tell you some of the highlights. The animals were great on the trip although NO ONE ever asked to see the health certificates. The rabbit, whom I had to carry through the body scanner (in case he proved to be a weapon of Mass destruction) cost the same as the dog even though he took up no space and no airport personal ever had anything to do with him!
Cute incident: when the stewardess asked if I wanted a complimentary beverage I asked for water for the bunny which she happily gave me. Later she asked if he needed anything and I replied 'Nope he just finished his breakfast.' Intrigued she stopped and leaned over and asked quite reverently "Oh, what did he have?" 'Carrots and water.'
Giving me a radiant smile she said with great enthusiasm "Of course, of course, it is a rabbit. What else would a rabbit have for breakfast?"
We arrived in Seattle to 50 degree rain gray weather and it has remained thus. At one point I asked Matt if it made people crazy after a while and he deadpanned about the high suicide rate. We then went to their lovely apartment for lunch, a mini Christmas, and then a walk to explore. We got a personal and private tour of Bungi (more on that later) where Matt works, explored a park and walked to the ocean. Well Mary tried to pass it off as the ocean but it did not taste salty. She then implied it was Puget Sound, but it turns out it was Lake Washington which connects via a river to the Sound to the ocean. I mean I would worry about a shark swimming it, but no one else would call it the ocean!
We then walked by a tree which Mary implied was a young redwood tree, NOT it was a red cedar. We continued in the drizzle to head into the city and we were the only ones with umbrellas! Ate a nice dinner at Red Robin (which started here in WA.)
On Wednesday we decided to do a wine tasting which was great fun. We saw a peacock and found out our favorite wine was the most expensive, an Ice Wine so sweet Don was not convinced that it was not in fact grape juice! My education in wine continues and by next fall I will attempt to make my own.
We then decided to journey to the REAL Pacific ocean, This was an almost 3 hour journey by car but it was not to be missed. We laughed and joked and drove and drove in the relentless driving rain. At one point we drove through a city so decaying and derelict that I finally looked it up online. It gave off such a spooky depressed vibe. Kurt Cobain and other grunge rock stars were born here which explains a lot about grunge music.
The city was in its founding days in the late 19th century considered a ramshackle place with lots of whore houses and boasts a serial killer who may have been responsible for the deaths of 140 sailors and was called both the "Port of lost men" and "The hellhole of the Pacific!" AWESOME.
We finally reached the Pacific and went to taste it and romp on its shores. The crashing waves and gigantic lumber logs along its shore were spectacular. The gale force winds and pounding rain were ridiculous but life is nothing if not an adventure for the hardy. I grabbed some drift wood, a sand dollar, and a stone to put in my garden. It felt strange having the ocean on the wrong side, but pretty amazing.....
Today we hiked along abandoned coal mines and up part of Cougar Mountain. Sadly we only saw tons of birds and flora and fauna but no giant predators. Mary and I did see old scratch marks made by a black bear, raked into the trunk of a birch tree. The area is a rainforest and all the moss on the trees and ferns growing everywhere including on the trees was impressive.
Tomorrow we lunch at the top of the Space Needle and explore local museums. Before heading home. The best part of course has been being with M and M and seeing how happy they are. One of my favorite parts of the adventure has also been my saddest part. I refer to our tour of Bungi.
We had walked over to see where Matt works but the doors were locked so our intention was to peak inside, But the security guy was there and he was watching us as Don took photos. Matt shyly moved away because apparently they get a lot of 'fans' of the halo games who make a pilgrimage to the place where it all began.
The security guard, a big burly man from Indiana (I have yet to meet a Washington native, everyone is from somewhere else) came to the door. I gave him my best hopeful smile and as he opened the door a crack he recognized Matt. "Who do you have with you?" he asked a bit wearily. When Matt responded, I laid on the charm and of course we were allowed in. No photos beyond the first floor naturally, there are secrets within.
The plant is amazing. The company originally made it big on its own, sold itself to Microsoft then bought itself back when it realized that working for "the man" stifled all their creativity. As we walked through the amazing plant my heart sunk further and further.
Here truly was a dream company, game room, motion capture studio, theater for families of employees. Work stations were open and airy not staid cubicles, a kitchen filled with free food, work and play spaces throughout. The building itself was designed as if it had been converted from an old factory. But the whole layout is meant to promote teamwork and fun and respect for the artists who work there, Even during the shutdown there were a few workers taking advantage of the quiet to tinker with some ideas.
We wandered around and as Matt explained the work stations and open spaces all I kept thinking was 'The really is a dream job. Why would anyone want to come back to Massachusetts?" I thought seeing his place of work would make me happy. Instead it is bringing home the very real truth that they may not be Massachusetts bound in a few years. Here is a company that respects and encourages its workers. There is room to grow here while in MA our economy and state government seem to encourage the brain drain instead of taking steps to address it.
We sat next to a young man flying out here to interview with Amazon. Like Matt he has gifts and talents in computers and the work is not in MA, but instead out west. In the last 15 years huge skyscrapers have grown up around Seattle and its sister city Bellevue. All the tech places are attracted here and now all those families are settling far far from home.
Who knows what the next years will bring for M and M or for any of us. But seeing the facility that houses Bungi made ME want to go work for them,
I well we have one more night and all day to be with our wonderful M and M. Last night we played hearts and who knows what will be up for tonight! There are always adventures to be had. I just never imagined them so far from home!!!
In the 2 months that they have been here M and M have claimed to have bright sunny days (including 80 degrees in October!) and even dare suggest that Christmas was so clear and sunny that they could see all the way to Mt Rainier.
Perhaps you have heard of Mt Rainier, considered one of the most dangerous volcano on earth. Tim my weather expert calls Seattle the potential Pompeii of the Pacific!
To help me with my own separation anxiety M and M offered to fly us out over Christmas break if we could bring out their 12 year old dog who gets carsick, and their little bunny who does not. We readily agreed and Don would sometimes say, as we staggered to bed, "Won't it be fun having a little vacation to Washington."
But it was hard to get excited or make little plans for our trip since I have never had an interest in the Pacific northwest, my baby would still be 3000 miles from me, there are volcanoes nearby, I had to transport pets who I would worry about, and I was until the very last moment overwhelmed with my Masters programs and every day life.
Well...we have been in Washington for 3 days. We leave tomorrow night to take the red eye home in time for Jamie's birthday. We have as you can imagine had a ball. I will tell you some of the highlights. The animals were great on the trip although NO ONE ever asked to see the health certificates. The rabbit, whom I had to carry through the body scanner (in case he proved to be a weapon of Mass destruction) cost the same as the dog even though he took up no space and no airport personal ever had anything to do with him!
Cute incident: when the stewardess asked if I wanted a complimentary beverage I asked for water for the bunny which she happily gave me. Later she asked if he needed anything and I replied 'Nope he just finished his breakfast.' Intrigued she stopped and leaned over and asked quite reverently "Oh, what did he have?" 'Carrots and water.'
Giving me a radiant smile she said with great enthusiasm "Of course, of course, it is a rabbit. What else would a rabbit have for breakfast?"
We arrived in Seattle to 50 degree rain gray weather and it has remained thus. At one point I asked Matt if it made people crazy after a while and he deadpanned about the high suicide rate. We then went to their lovely apartment for lunch, a mini Christmas, and then a walk to explore. We got a personal and private tour of Bungi (more on that later) where Matt works, explored a park and walked to the ocean. Well Mary tried to pass it off as the ocean but it did not taste salty. She then implied it was Puget Sound, but it turns out it was Lake Washington which connects via a river to the Sound to the ocean. I mean I would worry about a shark swimming it, but no one else would call it the ocean!
We then walked by a tree which Mary implied was a young redwood tree, NOT it was a red cedar. We continued in the drizzle to head into the city and we were the only ones with umbrellas! Ate a nice dinner at Red Robin (which started here in WA.)
On Wednesday we decided to do a wine tasting which was great fun. We saw a peacock and found out our favorite wine was the most expensive, an Ice Wine so sweet Don was not convinced that it was not in fact grape juice! My education in wine continues and by next fall I will attempt to make my own.
We then decided to journey to the REAL Pacific ocean, This was an almost 3 hour journey by car but it was not to be missed. We laughed and joked and drove and drove in the relentless driving rain. At one point we drove through a city so decaying and derelict that I finally looked it up online. It gave off such a spooky depressed vibe. Kurt Cobain and other grunge rock stars were born here which explains a lot about grunge music.
The city was in its founding days in the late 19th century considered a ramshackle place with lots of whore houses and boasts a serial killer who may have been responsible for the deaths of 140 sailors and was called both the "Port of lost men" and "The hellhole of the Pacific!" AWESOME.
We finally reached the Pacific and went to taste it and romp on its shores. The crashing waves and gigantic lumber logs along its shore were spectacular. The gale force winds and pounding rain were ridiculous but life is nothing if not an adventure for the hardy. I grabbed some drift wood, a sand dollar, and a stone to put in my garden. It felt strange having the ocean on the wrong side, but pretty amazing.....
Today we hiked along abandoned coal mines and up part of Cougar Mountain. Sadly we only saw tons of birds and flora and fauna but no giant predators. Mary and I did see old scratch marks made by a black bear, raked into the trunk of a birch tree. The area is a rainforest and all the moss on the trees and ferns growing everywhere including on the trees was impressive.
Tomorrow we lunch at the top of the Space Needle and explore local museums. Before heading home. The best part of course has been being with M and M and seeing how happy they are. One of my favorite parts of the adventure has also been my saddest part. I refer to our tour of Bungi.
We had walked over to see where Matt works but the doors were locked so our intention was to peak inside, But the security guy was there and he was watching us as Don took photos. Matt shyly moved away because apparently they get a lot of 'fans' of the halo games who make a pilgrimage to the place where it all began.
The security guard, a big burly man from Indiana (I have yet to meet a Washington native, everyone is from somewhere else) came to the door. I gave him my best hopeful smile and as he opened the door a crack he recognized Matt. "Who do you have with you?" he asked a bit wearily. When Matt responded, I laid on the charm and of course we were allowed in. No photos beyond the first floor naturally, there are secrets within.
The plant is amazing. The company originally made it big on its own, sold itself to Microsoft then bought itself back when it realized that working for "the man" stifled all their creativity. As we walked through the amazing plant my heart sunk further and further.
Here truly was a dream company, game room, motion capture studio, theater for families of employees. Work stations were open and airy not staid cubicles, a kitchen filled with free food, work and play spaces throughout. The building itself was designed as if it had been converted from an old factory. But the whole layout is meant to promote teamwork and fun and respect for the artists who work there, Even during the shutdown there were a few workers taking advantage of the quiet to tinker with some ideas.
We wandered around and as Matt explained the work stations and open spaces all I kept thinking was 'The really is a dream job. Why would anyone want to come back to Massachusetts?" I thought seeing his place of work would make me happy. Instead it is bringing home the very real truth that they may not be Massachusetts bound in a few years. Here is a company that respects and encourages its workers. There is room to grow here while in MA our economy and state government seem to encourage the brain drain instead of taking steps to address it.
We sat next to a young man flying out here to interview with Amazon. Like Matt he has gifts and talents in computers and the work is not in MA, but instead out west. In the last 15 years huge skyscrapers have grown up around Seattle and its sister city Bellevue. All the tech places are attracted here and now all those families are settling far far from home.
Who knows what the next years will bring for M and M or for any of us. But seeing the facility that houses Bungi made ME want to go work for them,
I well we have one more night and all day to be with our wonderful M and M. Last night we played hearts and who knows what will be up for tonight! There are always adventures to be had. I just never imagined them so far from home!!!
Monday, December 26, 2011
letter to the editor I just sent to the Carver Reporter. Hopefully frosty will turn up soon!
Letter to the Editor,
This letter is directed at the people who thought it would be a funny prank to steal people's Christmas decorations off their lawns on December 23, here in Carver. I am sure it was very clever and lots of fun and perhaps you meant no harm. But I would like you to know what happened due to your thoughtlessness to one member of our community.
On that night someone stole our rickety Frosty the Snowman, as he sat cheerfully on our lawn. Frosty has shown his light here in Carver for the past ten years since the death of my parents. Before that he always had place of honor at my parents house and was lovingly put up every year by my younger brother Yon. My brother was adopted by my parents when he was 7. He is mentally challenged although those two words do not adequately describe Yon. My brother is a bronze medal world class runner for Special Olympics. He gives speeches to raise awareness and funds for Special Olympics. He volunteers each summer with a group of mentally challenged adults building sheds for churches, cat shelters, etc. He works parttime at Shaws. He walks his dog every day and cleans up after her! He also rakes neighbors' lawns in the fall and shovels their driveways and walkways in the winter, all without asking. If while walking or jogging he sees rubbish barrels tipped over he diligently picks them up. He votes in elections, is a kind ,and funny person, and an all around good citizen of Carver.
The night you stole his Frosty, Yon was in bed unlike the idiots who stole his snowman. When he got up Christmas Eve morning and did not see Frosty he assumed my husband was fixing it. Frosty is old and cherished and Yon does not want a newer one. I am sure you understand. I am sure you too own sentimental things that are pricelss.
It was not until Christmas Eve night that we all realised Frosty was gone. We called the police and were told that the perpetrators had been caught and had returned the stolen decorations. But Frosty was NOT returned.
My brother cried off an on the rest of the night. THAT is how HE spent Christmas Eve. The next morning he did not rush out to look under the tree for gifts, instead he went outside hoping to see Frosty. At Mass on Christmas morning he quietly wept. "Sue" he said sadly, " I know you are suppose to pray for people not things. But I wish my Frosty the Snowman could be found."
Needless to say we left Mass and went to the police station. The dispatcher was sympathetic but of course he could not give me the names of the people who stole the stuff. He also claimed there was more than one person/group out stealing that night.
It cannot be that no one knows who took it. Someone must know. It is a silly plastic snowman that has to be more than 30 years old. I imagine it broke as the pranksters carted it off. You need to know you ruined Christmas for a man who is nothing but good, who always follows the rules, who cannot understand how someone could steal something of his.
My brother is a grown man who put out Christmas cookies on Christmas Eve because even though he knows the truth about Christmas, as he put it "I leave out the cookies, just in case!"
I wish whoever stole it would be man enough to apologise or at least let us know what happened to it. Even if it is broken we want it back. Maybe we can fix it.
I wish the police gave me the names of the kids who were caught because I would really like them to meet my brother and see and hear what their thoughtlessness did to a nice man who gets up every day and does the right thing.
I can go out and buy Yon a new snowman, but you all know it will not be the same. New is not better when it comes to cherished memories of Christmas past.
Susan Blauss
8 Atwood street
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Red Wine and Roses
Last year (or was it the year before, time is just flying by these days) when I was in my Julia Child phase I became interested in wine. I was making her famous Beef Bourgonion and had no idea how to find a full bodied Burgundy. Or maybe it was a lesser Burgundy, I cannot recall. Anyway I needed wine to make the sauce and I stumbled and stuttered so at the liquor store, that I thought they were gonna give me a Breathalizer.
Back home with my Burgundy, I carefully read The Joy of French Cooking from cover to cover and tried to absorb all the information about wine. I kept thinking how interesting yet baffling it all was, phrases like dry (how can a liquid be dry?) and pretentious, and aging, and bottles on their side, and wine as a living thing that needs to bloom in a glass....
I never could swallow the leftover Brugundy although I put it to good use Christmas morning when our plumber friend had to come over to fix our leaking shower. He happily drank it and although he was a plumbing expert he had no wisdom to share with me in regards to wines beyond...."its all a bunch of crap what wine goes with what...you like it? drink it, case closed!"
This philosophy of drink what you like has been said to me over and over the past couple of years in my quest for wine knowledge.
But liquor salesmen aside there is a historic tradition of certain wines complimenting certain foods and I wanted to understand the whys and wherefores... I also hoped to find a wine that I liked the taste of.
Now back in college (drinking age was 20) when all my friends were getting their drinking legs under them I was pregnant or nursing. By the time I got out of that phase my friends had settled to their favorite alcoholic beverage and that was that. I aquired a taste for vodka....liberally drowned out with orange juice and cranberry juice or if at home with grape HiC since that is what is on hand in a child centered household!
But vodka is not really a beverage that goes with food...well except for handfuls of salty popcorn and chips and of course everything goes with chocolate.
Anyway this wondering about wine has hit me off and on over the years but really began to percolate this spring when I began to experiment with making goat cheese. Goats cheese and wine have gone together since at least 8000BC.....there must be someone somewhere who can explain the connections and let me taste and discover them for myself.
So I ask liquor store guys all about wine when on the rare occasions I am in there. I also ask my friends who do drink wine, and yesterday I got to attened one of those salesmany sponsored wine tastings, where it became clear I knew more than she did, le sigh.
I did come home with two bottles of wine. One, an Italian red wine Pinot Noir I am bringing to the Christmas Eve dinner. It is a big bottle, all prettily corked and I figure I can share it with the wine drinkers there and ply them with questions while they sip.
I also got a Reisling from Washington State. It seems the consensus that I would probably like a fruity wine and the one from Washington State, with a screw cap has been the number one seller. I tried a glass last night and one today and I like the faint fruity after...well not taste exactly. It is more like, after I swallow, when I exhale a faint fruity essence is in my mouth. Does that make sense to you?
So far I have learned that American wines are called by the grape they are predominently made from, so Reisling is a grape, But European wines are named by the region they are grown in....like Burgundy. Oh ya...sparkling wine is a champaigne but they cannot call it that unless it is made in the Champaigne region! Confused? Well you are in good company.
California is of course the largest wine producing state. I assumed New York was number 2 but it turns out Washington State is. As a matter of fact next week when we visit Mary and Matt we are going on a big winery tour of Chateau Michelle, one of the top producers.
I have learned that I should find a French wine called Sancerre wine because it is the region known for its wine and Chevre (french for goat!) Apparently there can be an American version of Sancerre but I have no idea how to figure out which it is since America calls it by the grape and France calls it by the region.
Corked wines should be layed on their side at around 50 ' and in the dark..... you should eat cheese and bread not cheese and crackers with wine. Ah, still have not heard the whole story why, something about the yeast in the bread...
1929 and 1947 were exceptional years for wine and even average wines of that year have a superior taste. Again no idea why but I shall let you know hwat I discover.
Please let me know your favorite wines and why or ones you cannot bear and why. I need lots of detail. However...er... spare me the drunkalogs, but if you have reasons for pairing what wines with what I am all ears.
Back home with my Burgundy, I carefully read The Joy of French Cooking from cover to cover and tried to absorb all the information about wine. I kept thinking how interesting yet baffling it all was, phrases like dry (how can a liquid be dry?) and pretentious, and aging, and bottles on their side, and wine as a living thing that needs to bloom in a glass....
I never could swallow the leftover Brugundy although I put it to good use Christmas morning when our plumber friend had to come over to fix our leaking shower. He happily drank it and although he was a plumbing expert he had no wisdom to share with me in regards to wines beyond...."its all a bunch of crap what wine goes with what...you like it? drink it, case closed!"
This philosophy of drink what you like has been said to me over and over the past couple of years in my quest for wine knowledge.
But liquor salesmen aside there is a historic tradition of certain wines complimenting certain foods and I wanted to understand the whys and wherefores... I also hoped to find a wine that I liked the taste of.
Now back in college (drinking age was 20) when all my friends were getting their drinking legs under them I was pregnant or nursing. By the time I got out of that phase my friends had settled to their favorite alcoholic beverage and that was that. I aquired a taste for vodka....liberally drowned out with orange juice and cranberry juice or if at home with grape HiC since that is what is on hand in a child centered household!
But vodka is not really a beverage that goes with food...well except for handfuls of salty popcorn and chips and of course everything goes with chocolate.
Anyway this wondering about wine has hit me off and on over the years but really began to percolate this spring when I began to experiment with making goat cheese. Goats cheese and wine have gone together since at least 8000BC.....there must be someone somewhere who can explain the connections and let me taste and discover them for myself.
So I ask liquor store guys all about wine when on the rare occasions I am in there. I also ask my friends who do drink wine, and yesterday I got to attened one of those salesmany sponsored wine tastings, where it became clear I knew more than she did, le sigh.
I did come home with two bottles of wine. One, an Italian red wine Pinot Noir I am bringing to the Christmas Eve dinner. It is a big bottle, all prettily corked and I figure I can share it with the wine drinkers there and ply them with questions while they sip.
I also got a Reisling from Washington State. It seems the consensus that I would probably like a fruity wine and the one from Washington State, with a screw cap has been the number one seller. I tried a glass last night and one today and I like the faint fruity after...well not taste exactly. It is more like, after I swallow, when I exhale a faint fruity essence is in my mouth. Does that make sense to you?
So far I have learned that American wines are called by the grape they are predominently made from, so Reisling is a grape, But European wines are named by the region they are grown in....like Burgundy. Oh ya...sparkling wine is a champaigne but they cannot call it that unless it is made in the Champaigne region! Confused? Well you are in good company.
California is of course the largest wine producing state. I assumed New York was number 2 but it turns out Washington State is. As a matter of fact next week when we visit Mary and Matt we are going on a big winery tour of Chateau Michelle, one of the top producers.
I have learned that I should find a French wine called Sancerre wine because it is the region known for its wine and Chevre (french for goat!) Apparently there can be an American version of Sancerre but I have no idea how to figure out which it is since America calls it by the grape and France calls it by the region.
Corked wines should be layed on their side at around 50 ' and in the dark..... you should eat cheese and bread not cheese and crackers with wine. Ah, still have not heard the whole story why, something about the yeast in the bread...
1929 and 1947 were exceptional years for wine and even average wines of that year have a superior taste. Again no idea why but I shall let you know hwat I discover.
Please let me know your favorite wines and why or ones you cannot bear and why. I need lots of detail. However...er... spare me the drunkalogs, but if you have reasons for pairing what wines with what I am all ears.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Saturday, December 10, 2011
To My Facebook Friends
Today as I raced out the door heading into class early in order to run a few copies of a report for my classmates, I had just enough time to dash off this little facebook status update: "What do you know? I am down a whole pant size since September! yeah....off to give a presentation wearing small pants :>)"
I did not get a chance to look again at facebook until well after class but when I did I was totally floored. 25 of my FB friends 'liked' my status and another 9 offered warm words of encouragement. I constantly FB update and check out others updates because I find it fun, relaxing, interesting and informative. I often post to amuse a specific person or pass on a silly quote or song lyric that I know a few people will apreciate it. Also, I sometimes ask for advice or share some little tidbit, some minutia in my life that I think others can relate too and I greatly enjoy sharing a part in others minutia.
But today when I posted I was mostly focusing on my big presentation. I had a little thrill when I zipped up the size smaller pants and the looked ok in the bedroom mirror. But I had actually posted the pants comment because of what happened the night before as I was trying on the pants.
Now I have no idea what kind of lighting they use in mens' changing rooms but the glaring florescents in the ladies' area are flattering to NO ONE. Also it is possible that they use fun house mirrors. I have no proof of this of course but the view seems awfully distorted to me.
Does my hindquarters really look like that? What the heck is hanging under my bra sort of off to the side? I stared at my reflection last night in those size smaller pants and wasted a LOT of time on negative thoughts about how I looked. I should have been elated. A whole pants size smaller than September is a wonderful achievement! Instead I thought about how 2 winters ago I was a smaller size and about how agonizing it is to regain, and gosh darn it when you regain why does it migrate to lumpier places? These thoughts DO NOT help weight loss. No one wants to hear them and I certainly do not want to think them. But there I stood staring at my curvy reflection not satisfied with my recent efforts.
Anyway when I posted my update this morning it was a reminder to MYSELF that a pants size smaller is indeed a nice thing and proof positive that hard owrk and effort is paying off again. I figured when I got a chance to repost I would be finished with my presentation and I would reread my positve post one more time to remind myself to focus on the good.
Instead I saw the flood of wonderful comments and all those lovely thumbs up and I felt lucky and humbled. All those 'like's are from people who know how hard permanant weight loss is and who understand both my journey and my struggles. No one said....geez when I saw you two Chrismases ago werent you smaller? No one said gee isn't weight watchers an expensive way to lose and regain and lose the same pounds?.....
Nope all those comments and likes were things I should have done for myself when I looked in the mirror, affirmations I have often given to others. Being healthy, making the right food choices, and exercising is VERY HARD work for many many many of us. Those facebook comments and likes really helped remind me about the importance of celebrating the here and now and appreciating the small steps along the way. So thank you facebook friends
I did not get a chance to look again at facebook until well after class but when I did I was totally floored. 25 of my FB friends 'liked' my status and another 9 offered warm words of encouragement. I constantly FB update and check out others updates because I find it fun, relaxing, interesting and informative. I often post to amuse a specific person or pass on a silly quote or song lyric that I know a few people will apreciate it. Also, I sometimes ask for advice or share some little tidbit, some minutia in my life that I think others can relate too and I greatly enjoy sharing a part in others minutia.
But today when I posted I was mostly focusing on my big presentation. I had a little thrill when I zipped up the size smaller pants and the looked ok in the bedroom mirror. But I had actually posted the pants comment because of what happened the night before as I was trying on the pants.
Now I have no idea what kind of lighting they use in mens' changing rooms but the glaring florescents in the ladies' area are flattering to NO ONE. Also it is possible that they use fun house mirrors. I have no proof of this of course but the view seems awfully distorted to me.
Does my hindquarters really look like that? What the heck is hanging under my bra sort of off to the side? I stared at my reflection last night in those size smaller pants and wasted a LOT of time on negative thoughts about how I looked. I should have been elated. A whole pants size smaller than September is a wonderful achievement! Instead I thought about how 2 winters ago I was a smaller size and about how agonizing it is to regain, and gosh darn it when you regain why does it migrate to lumpier places? These thoughts DO NOT help weight loss. No one wants to hear them and I certainly do not want to think them. But there I stood staring at my curvy reflection not satisfied with my recent efforts.
Anyway when I posted my update this morning it was a reminder to MYSELF that a pants size smaller is indeed a nice thing and proof positive that hard owrk and effort is paying off again. I figured when I got a chance to repost I would be finished with my presentation and I would reread my positve post one more time to remind myself to focus on the good.
Instead I saw the flood of wonderful comments and all those lovely thumbs up and I felt lucky and humbled. All those 'like's are from people who know how hard permanant weight loss is and who understand both my journey and my struggles. No one said....geez when I saw you two Chrismases ago werent you smaller? No one said gee isn't weight watchers an expensive way to lose and regain and lose the same pounds?.....
Nope all those comments and likes were things I should have done for myself when I looked in the mirror, affirmations I have often given to others. Being healthy, making the right food choices, and exercising is VERY HARD work for many many many of us. Those facebook comments and likes really helped remind me about the importance of celebrating the here and now and appreciating the small steps along the way. So thank you facebook friends
Monday, November 28, 2011
A job well done
When you grow up in a small town you get to know many of the inhabitants very well, especially if either you or they are characters. Some people however simply become part of the fabric of your life, woven into memories of childhood. These people like the dad next door or the favorite bus driver you do not even realise how much a part of your memories they occupy because they are simply there in the background to your adventures over the years.
I was reflecting on this just this morning as I sat up in the choir loft of the picturesque First Congregational Church in Hanson. I was there for a funeral of a man whom I have known since I was 7 years old.
His 2 daughters are just younger than I and so he was always been their dad to me. One of the daughters was close childhood friends with my brother. As we became older we grew closer and throughout our adult life we have remained in contact mainly through my wonderful sisterinlaw and because we share the love of community theater. The eldest daughter and I have outrageously overacted in a many a play together and both of us have dragged our children into the excitement.
Backstage and at the local pub Elly and I would share very fresh stories about our leading men or have wonderful heartfelt conversations about the joys and burdens of motherhood.
Her mom too was a theater friend, one of the few people who can read as fast as I and the children's librarian. She use to recite a poem she wrote at the end of a play using everyone in the cast as a character in her rhyming funny dead on ode to that year's production.
I of course stole this wonderful idea and have used it to some affect in other situations like foster parenting and youth ministering. Never of course did I give her credit because the actor in me adored the praise!
She, Carolyn, and I have benefited from the wonderfulness that is Facebook into developing a closer friendship through our status updates. It is funny how FB can work that way to keep friendships growing and allowing little glimpses into another's life.
So when Big Al, Elly and Andi's dad and Carolyn's husband of 48 years passed away Thanksgiving eve of course I attended the funeral. I went to pray and offer what support I could to people who have been a part of my life for more than 40 years.
Al's grandchildren, ex son in law and my brother in law all offered poignant and loving tributes to this man who was born just before the depression. The Rev. too offered caring knowing words because Al was a dedicated church goer so they had a personal relationship.
They were all very involved in Al's life and shared stories that although I had not heard or experienced before, certainly matched the man I knew. You can feel funny at a funeral sometimes when you hear a person give witness to another's life and you think how little you knew the person they are speaking about. How others are so much closer.
Al ,like the neighbors dad or the bus driver was simply a part of my life growing up in Hanson. He always had a kind word for me and quaint old fashioned manners that were charming. He made you feel young and beautiful and smart and every person at his funeral said that.
We were not close in the sense of many of those other people who ate breakfast with him and worked with him on committees and that sort of thing. But every single Hanson event I went to, he was there lending a hand and greeting me with a warm 'hey kid.'
Sitting this morning at the Congo church surrounded by people many of whom I have known since 7, was a comforting wonderful place to be. It made me miss my parents of course. I know the emotions Andi and Elly and the grandadughters are dealing with, since I too lost my dad.
Carolyn oft times reminds me of my mom although they are certainly very different women. But I know a little of what she faces in the coming months because I rember my mother's grief and confusion after losing her best friend when my dad died. It is going to be hard on them all. Plus the community suffers a loss when one of their own passes away.
Many people lament small time life and complain that it is boring...nothing happens here...or that everyone knows everything or thinks they do about everyone else. But for me small town was sitting in that church listening two 2 lovely girls speak of thier grandfather "Happy" and all that he meant to them. It was a lovely service for a life well lived both sweet and sad. I was lucky to be a part of it, even if on the edge.
I was reflecting on this just this morning as I sat up in the choir loft of the picturesque First Congregational Church in Hanson. I was there for a funeral of a man whom I have known since I was 7 years old.
His 2 daughters are just younger than I and so he was always been their dad to me. One of the daughters was close childhood friends with my brother. As we became older we grew closer and throughout our adult life we have remained in contact mainly through my wonderful sisterinlaw and because we share the love of community theater. The eldest daughter and I have outrageously overacted in a many a play together and both of us have dragged our children into the excitement.
Backstage and at the local pub Elly and I would share very fresh stories about our leading men or have wonderful heartfelt conversations about the joys and burdens of motherhood.
Her mom too was a theater friend, one of the few people who can read as fast as I and the children's librarian. She use to recite a poem she wrote at the end of a play using everyone in the cast as a character in her rhyming funny dead on ode to that year's production.
I of course stole this wonderful idea and have used it to some affect in other situations like foster parenting and youth ministering. Never of course did I give her credit because the actor in me adored the praise!
She, Carolyn, and I have benefited from the wonderfulness that is Facebook into developing a closer friendship through our status updates. It is funny how FB can work that way to keep friendships growing and allowing little glimpses into another's life.
So when Big Al, Elly and Andi's dad and Carolyn's husband of 48 years passed away Thanksgiving eve of course I attended the funeral. I went to pray and offer what support I could to people who have been a part of my life for more than 40 years.
Al's grandchildren, ex son in law and my brother in law all offered poignant and loving tributes to this man who was born just before the depression. The Rev. too offered caring knowing words because Al was a dedicated church goer so they had a personal relationship.
They were all very involved in Al's life and shared stories that although I had not heard or experienced before, certainly matched the man I knew. You can feel funny at a funeral sometimes when you hear a person give witness to another's life and you think how little you knew the person they are speaking about. How others are so much closer.
Al ,like the neighbors dad or the bus driver was simply a part of my life growing up in Hanson. He always had a kind word for me and quaint old fashioned manners that were charming. He made you feel young and beautiful and smart and every person at his funeral said that.
We were not close in the sense of many of those other people who ate breakfast with him and worked with him on committees and that sort of thing. But every single Hanson event I went to, he was there lending a hand and greeting me with a warm 'hey kid.'
Sitting this morning at the Congo church surrounded by people many of whom I have known since 7, was a comforting wonderful place to be. It made me miss my parents of course. I know the emotions Andi and Elly and the grandadughters are dealing with, since I too lost my dad.
Carolyn oft times reminds me of my mom although they are certainly very different women. But I know a little of what she faces in the coming months because I rember my mother's grief and confusion after losing her best friend when my dad died. It is going to be hard on them all. Plus the community suffers a loss when one of their own passes away.
Many people lament small time life and complain that it is boring...nothing happens here...or that everyone knows everything or thinks they do about everyone else. But for me small town was sitting in that church listening two 2 lovely girls speak of thier grandfather "Happy" and all that he meant to them. It was a lovely service for a life well lived both sweet and sad. I was lucky to be a part of it, even if on the edge.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Veterans Day
Today Don and I planned on doing a little more canoeing around Plymouth Harbour since it was suppose to be high tide. But it was VERY cold even though it was one in the afternoon so we chose instead to head to Hanson to paddle about on Maquan pond. That idea was also vetoed when we got out of the truck and the gale force wind blowing off the pond nearly blew us away!
So we instead wandered around Camp Kiwanee and Woodman Terrace, and the bogs behind the camp leading to Indian Head pond. It was sunny and the breeze not quite so bad away from the water. We were trying to get some photographs Mary wanted for a project she is working on. It was certainly a great day for photography with the bright blue sky and scuttling puffy clouds not to mention the crisp fall colors on the leaves and bogs. I have not been walking much because I just cannot get rid of the plantar fasciitus and I have been avoiding going to the doctor. But a walk is more than plain exercise and the colors and smells just fill me so. I think I will break down and make a doctors appointment. I imagine it is time for some cortisone shots to the bottoms of my feet. It has been 9 months since my feet began to ache and even with my high pain tolerance I have had just about enough. I have tried better shoes, supports in the shoes, exercise, ice, rolly things on the bottom of my feet, and splints at night while I sleep. Time for the big leagues I guess. The crippling pain now was totally worth exploring all around there though. It is fascinating to share tales with Donnie about Camp Kiwanee because we both have so many stories about the camp in our time before we were a couple. Plus as we hiked along finding old roads and deer trails we get to add together stories to our narrative. There will not be many moments like today for me between now and when my classes briefly break in mid December. I am about to enter a constant research and produce phase for my Masters and although I am ready for it I will miss the down time. I already really really miss my free reading time that is for sure. I just know my Regency Romances are missing me too.
Tonight the dogs and I are hiding out in my bedroom while upstairs my baby girl has her raucous sweet sixteen party. Hard to believe that little girl is almost a woman. Time is moving faster and faster around here and there are still so many things to do, canoe trips, and books, and vacations and adventures.... and what is this I hear? 6 weeks until Christmas did you say?
Saturday, November 05, 2011
A brief break
It is getting mighty hard to keep up the blog posts with my course load. Just look and you will see it has been nearly a week since my last post, and that was an assignment that I simply copied and pasted into my blog! On the other hand with the exception of my friend Margo, none of my other blog friends are keeping up either so I guess I should not feel so bad. Even Rosie O'Donnell stopped writing her blog!
I have tried to lighten the load somewhat. I am not taking any substitute teaching assignments unless it is for my own class. Also no more bunny breeding until the spring. When the weather gets cold like this the risk is higher on young kits and requires multiple checks to make sure every little body is covered and toasty warm in the nest box. One caveat to this....Joe's indoor bunny has a nest box now. He has decided to try to breed his BIS bunny Romany.
We also stopped milking Mama goat because as relaxing and fun as milking her was....it was a twice a day every day have to. This means of course no more cheese making until spring as well. Since that took a lot of time (well making cheddar did anyway) it is probably just as well.
I do have three wheels of cheddar aging in my cheese cave of course that we are going to try out around Christmas time. That is something I am really looking forward too.
The pace of the Masters program is very intense though and it feels like every piece of knowledge is so critical. Plus of course I can get distracted and off track. Not off track exactly.... its more, when you are in college you have access to all the latest research studies and journal articles and there is just so much fascinating subjects out there. It is hard to remain focused on something in particular I am researching when some other interesting topic pops up.
For instance, I was looking for research on current practices in kindergarten. This was for a paper due next Saturday. I chose the topic specifically because I am in kindergarten and have some opinions of my own about the curriculum and pace we put 5 years old through these days.
Well as I was scrolling through the journals I came across this title "Early Childhood Education and Care and Reading Acquisition in At Risk Readers: Does Quantity Matter?" Also " Class wide Intervention to Manage Disruptive Behavior in the Kindergarten Classroom."
Don't those titles peak your curiosity? Both are close to 20 pages long and filled with test results and mean medium and mode, and all sorts of other texts and previous study results and oh my I could keep delving and delving and delving!
I ended up copying the research to read later in my spare time. I think it could help me. I do not understand why newspapers only publish silly frivolous sounding research when there is so much really interesting and really important stuff to learn. Although I understand the interest that can be peaked by releasing research info on how often men look at a woman's chest when engaged in conversation and other such silly matters.
But I do not have time to read up on other studies when I am doing homework for two classes and working 2 jobs and parenting and and and. Of course once you get out of college you do not have free access to all the fascinating info so I am gonna have to copy as much of the interesting stuff as I can these next 16 months and read while I can!
I did feel a tad sorry for myself when I had to give up 2 really fun things all in the name of higher education tonight. First 2 friends are hoteling it on the Cape and invited me to join in for part or all the getaway. But schoolwork came first. Then a welcomed invitation to drinking and bowling with 4 dear friends who we have not seen in an age. But again...school work calls.
Ah well . Nikki and I took a brief break to buy me a winter coat. I have been freezing outside at recess and wanted a short coat that had long enough sleeves, was warm, and was not dreary looking. My kindergarten girls really have some styling jackets but those fun colors do not come on grownup coats!
Luck was with us and I got a decent coat for 10 dollars at Savers. It is not swirly rainbow colors nor does it have big pink flowers on it like my little friends, but it is warm and light and lends some dignity to me I suppose...unless someone happens to notice my rainbow shoelaces of course!
OK blog readers I think of you but I must take your leave and get back to my schoolin'.
I have tried to lighten the load somewhat. I am not taking any substitute teaching assignments unless it is for my own class. Also no more bunny breeding until the spring. When the weather gets cold like this the risk is higher on young kits and requires multiple checks to make sure every little body is covered and toasty warm in the nest box. One caveat to this....Joe's indoor bunny has a nest box now. He has decided to try to breed his BIS bunny Romany.
We also stopped milking Mama goat because as relaxing and fun as milking her was....it was a twice a day every day have to. This means of course no more cheese making until spring as well. Since that took a lot of time (well making cheddar did anyway) it is probably just as well.
I do have three wheels of cheddar aging in my cheese cave of course that we are going to try out around Christmas time. That is something I am really looking forward too.
The pace of the Masters program is very intense though and it feels like every piece of knowledge is so critical. Plus of course I can get distracted and off track. Not off track exactly.... its more, when you are in college you have access to all the latest research studies and journal articles and there is just so much fascinating subjects out there. It is hard to remain focused on something in particular I am researching when some other interesting topic pops up.
For instance, I was looking for research on current practices in kindergarten. This was for a paper due next Saturday. I chose the topic specifically because I am in kindergarten and have some opinions of my own about the curriculum and pace we put 5 years old through these days.
Well as I was scrolling through the journals I came across this title "Early Childhood Education and Care and Reading Acquisition in At Risk Readers: Does Quantity Matter?" Also " Class wide Intervention to Manage Disruptive Behavior in the Kindergarten Classroom."
Don't those titles peak your curiosity? Both are close to 20 pages long and filled with test results and mean medium and mode, and all sorts of other texts and previous study results and oh my I could keep delving and delving and delving!
I ended up copying the research to read later in my spare time. I think it could help me. I do not understand why newspapers only publish silly frivolous sounding research when there is so much really interesting and really important stuff to learn. Although I understand the interest that can be peaked by releasing research info on how often men look at a woman's chest when engaged in conversation and other such silly matters.
But I do not have time to read up on other studies when I am doing homework for two classes and working 2 jobs and parenting and and and. Of course once you get out of college you do not have free access to all the fascinating info so I am gonna have to copy as much of the interesting stuff as I can these next 16 months and read while I can!
I did feel a tad sorry for myself when I had to give up 2 really fun things all in the name of higher education tonight. First 2 friends are hoteling it on the Cape and invited me to join in for part or all the getaway. But schoolwork came first. Then a welcomed invitation to drinking and bowling with 4 dear friends who we have not seen in an age. But again...school work calls.
Ah well . Nikki and I took a brief break to buy me a winter coat. I have been freezing outside at recess and wanted a short coat that had long enough sleeves, was warm, and was not dreary looking. My kindergarten girls really have some styling jackets but those fun colors do not come on grownup coats!
Luck was with us and I got a decent coat for 10 dollars at Savers. It is not swirly rainbow colors nor does it have big pink flowers on it like my little friends, but it is warm and light and lends some dignity to me I suppose...unless someone happens to notice my rainbow shoelaces of course!
OK blog readers I think of you but I must take your leave and get back to my schoolin'.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
I can only imagine?
Surrounded by your glory
what will my heart feel?
Will I dance for you Jesus
or in awe of you be still?
Will I stand in your presence
Or to my knees will I fall?
Will I sing Hallelujah
will I be able to speak at all?
I can only imagine.
Mass at 6 o'clock at St Joseph the Worker church in Hanson usually has between 100-200 people. Its tough to have people leave the Patriots game to come together and pray. Plus they have a Mass the evening before and 3 Sunday morning Masses so all the practicing Catholics have been Jesused out by then I imagine.
Yet people come and oh what a treat they are in for. Teens cheerfully pass out music sheets. Other teens serve as ushers,readers, and Eucharistic ministers. Best of all between 10-20 adolescents sing and play in the band.
Right now there is only one designated teen Mass a month. The other Sundays Don was expected to play music for the Mass. But a funny thing happened. The kids did not just want one Mass. They want them all. And so each week kids show up to accompany Don.
Sometimes there are 3 drummers or 3 guitarists or 3 piano players.There is even a very talented flutist! Not every kid is even Catholic! But they come and rehearse one night a week plus in the hour before Mass.
A few of the teens have amazing voices and others well they are usually pretty close to being in key. They often have very strong opinions about the songs they want to do and discuss whose turn it is to spotlight in what song. They have already offered their services to sing and play for our own Confirmation Mass this spring here in Carver.
2 young altar boys are always there as well. Tonight the little redhead was having a grand time for himself. His feet did not quite touch the ground when he sat up on the altar and he swung those sneakered feet in time with the music. He also nearly decapitated the Jesus on the cross when he went to grab it ahead of the other altar boy at the end of Mass. He entertained me all through Mass and I cannot help but think if God were to tune in to any Mass why would He go anywhere but a teen Mass?
Of course the whole thing would never work without the support of the parish. So the five moms and dad who coordinate the teens and practice with them are invaluable. Plus they have a priest willing to allow children to express their faith. Not that he is not strict....lo the gum chewer if he is spotted! But he welcomes the teens and thanks them for sharing their talents. He expects them to be quiet and prayerful once they come into church but he acts as though he appreciates that they are there!
My own kids find the whole thing a little odd...especially the kneeling since our parish has no kneelers. They get a little embarrassed or self concious if Father recuits them to help out or drags them down front or on the altar. But they do it.
It is a kinda nice way to end or start the week...depending on your perspective to gather in prayer and song at the little church I grew up in. Its fun to watch Don share his talents, to let the kids shine but keep them on track.
The first Mass that the kids played for they did an incredible song during the reflection after communion. Father had his head bowed in prayer but as the kids played and sang and the Holy Spirit was palpable Father stopped his prayer just to watch the teens. When the last cord sounded the entire church broke out in long and loud applause. Father looked startled, thunderous applause is not exactly de digeur at a Catholic Mass. But then with a grin he joined in and saluted the band.
The last song tonight challenged us all to Go Make a Difference in the World....and after a servicelike that it certainly feels doable.
what will my heart feel?
Will I dance for you Jesus
or in awe of you be still?
Will I stand in your presence
Or to my knees will I fall?
Will I sing Hallelujah
will I be able to speak at all?
I can only imagine.
Mass at 6 o'clock at St Joseph the Worker church in Hanson usually has between 100-200 people. Its tough to have people leave the Patriots game to come together and pray. Plus they have a Mass the evening before and 3 Sunday morning Masses so all the practicing Catholics have been Jesused out by then I imagine.
Yet people come and oh what a treat they are in for. Teens cheerfully pass out music sheets. Other teens serve as ushers,readers, and Eucharistic ministers. Best of all between 10-20 adolescents sing and play in the band.
Right now there is only one designated teen Mass a month. The other Sundays Don was expected to play music for the Mass. But a funny thing happened. The kids did not just want one Mass. They want them all. And so each week kids show up to accompany Don.
Sometimes there are 3 drummers or 3 guitarists or 3 piano players.There is even a very talented flutist! Not every kid is even Catholic! But they come and rehearse one night a week plus in the hour before Mass.
A few of the teens have amazing voices and others well they are usually pretty close to being in key. They often have very strong opinions about the songs they want to do and discuss whose turn it is to spotlight in what song. They have already offered their services to sing and play for our own Confirmation Mass this spring here in Carver.
2 young altar boys are always there as well. Tonight the little redhead was having a grand time for himself. His feet did not quite touch the ground when he sat up on the altar and he swung those sneakered feet in time with the music. He also nearly decapitated the Jesus on the cross when he went to grab it ahead of the other altar boy at the end of Mass. He entertained me all through Mass and I cannot help but think if God were to tune in to any Mass why would He go anywhere but a teen Mass?
Of course the whole thing would never work without the support of the parish. So the five moms and dad who coordinate the teens and practice with them are invaluable. Plus they have a priest willing to allow children to express their faith. Not that he is not strict....lo the gum chewer if he is spotted! But he welcomes the teens and thanks them for sharing their talents. He expects them to be quiet and prayerful once they come into church but he acts as though he appreciates that they are there!
My own kids find the whole thing a little odd...especially the kneeling since our parish has no kneelers. They get a little embarrassed or self concious if Father recuits them to help out or drags them down front or on the altar. But they do it.
It is a kinda nice way to end or start the week...depending on your perspective to gather in prayer and song at the little church I grew up in. Its fun to watch Don share his talents, to let the kids shine but keep them on track.
The first Mass that the kids played for they did an incredible song during the reflection after communion. Father had his head bowed in prayer but as the kids played and sang and the Holy Spirit was palpable Father stopped his prayer just to watch the teens. When the last cord sounded the entire church broke out in long and loud applause. Father looked startled, thunderous applause is not exactly de digeur at a Catholic Mass. But then with a grin he joined in and saluted the band.
The last song tonight challenged us all to Go Make a Difference in the World....and after a servicelike that it certainly feels doable.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
School work
Our assignment is to reflect on our own literacy biography. What do we remember about learning to read and write. What was it like to be an emergent reader? What do we think about reading and writing today? In order to teach children literacy we need to be aware of where we come from. It was hard to decide what to keep in and what to keep out.... I so wanted to mention for instance all the people who inspired my love of reading and writing, like Carolyn a FB friend who reads as fast as I do (think LIGHTNING fast) and was the elementary school librarian. Or Aunty Maria who taught fourth grade English and who read to us in a chilling voice and could keep us in rapt an awed silence! Or my sister Marge who loved history books and whose love of reading matched my own..... anyway if writing papers keeps me from getting good blogging in I shall simply post my papers :>)
MED6040 LITERACY AUTOBIOGRAPHY Susan Blauss 2011
One evening my father returned home with a great big surprise for me, my very own book and it was a giant size tome. Apparently the little Golden Book Company made not only small books but great lap size books of their favorite stories. Too big for me to hold while I stood up, I placed it on the floor and sprawled next to it staring in wonder at the beautifully illustrated cover. I can still remember the pipe smoke smell of my dad and his long fingers as he pointed to the words. “It says Poky Little Puppy. I knew it was the perfect book for you!”
I remember that moment with crystal clarity and I was just 3 years old. But that book with its wonderful pictures of big eyed puppies and the mysterious type underneath held me spellbound. It would be another 3 years before I could read the words myself and it would be another dog to open the magical world of reading to me.
That moment occurred in first grade as our beloved teacher old Miss Roache motioned with her pointer to the words on the easel in the front of our class. (How is that for a teacher name? Poor thing, I thought of her as old but my mother says she was in her early 20s!)
In the city of Boston our hard seats were still bolted to the floor and attached to our desks that were lined up in rigid rows. As Miss Roache pointed to the words and we recited with her, the language suddenly came into focus for me. We had been looking at this page for close to a week, with its neat block letters and drawing of a black cocker spaniel on it. I had memorized the words on the first day of course in my eagerness to absorb anything and everything about dogs. But all of a sudden it just clicked for me. All those laboriously written out phonics papers with the letter formations and recitation just came together and I could READ the words. Slowly but definitely READ the words. I jumped up from my seat and shouted with excitement. I still remember them today. “Tag. See Tag. Tag can run. Tag can play. We like Tag.”
Phonics still held sway in the late 60s in Boston and we worked tirelessly on papers that helped us learn the rules of grammar, and long a short a, what sound oi made and how it differed from ou. I found the papers boring to do and the print hard for my left hand to form. Cursive in the 3rd grade would prove even more laborious. (Ugg, how I hated to learn cursive! My left handed writing was messy, not at all like the fancy curling letters my mother could make, nor like the precise lettering of my teachers. Plus both print and cursive was too slow a process and could not keep up with the quick flow of words in my mind. Atrocious spelling was the inevitable result of rushing to put words on paper, to get my ideas out as they poured faster and faster from my head. To this day my spelling remains abysmal and autocorrect has truly proven a nightmare for anyone trying to read my writing.)
We moved in second grade to Hanson and whole language must’ve prevailed because I never saw another phonics paper and every classroom had its own library not to mention a larger school library.
In fifth grade I read Helen Keller’s biography and that moment as Annie holds the young Helen’s hand in the water at the water pump signing w a t e r while pumping the water and Helen GETS it, gets sign language…. I clearly remembered the moment Tag. See Tag. became comprehensible to me. For me the ability to read was just that dramatic. Reading and writing still retain that magic for me today.
Both my parents were voracious readers and my mother a wonderful writer. In our home growing up if you were watching TV you were ‘doing nothing’ and could be interrupted to do some chore. But if you were reading, you were ‘doing something important ‘and not to be interrupted. My dad read great works of literature and historical works both fiction and non. He also had a tawdry taste for really bad science fiction. Mom preferred the latest best sellers and going to the library was a twice a week venture in our house. She also read anything medical (she was a nurse) and had a secret love for Harlequin romances. She called them ‘snack ‘books.
We had the Boston Globe delivered every morning and the Brockton Enterprise every evening. My parents never told us to read and they only read to us when we were very small. Both came from very poor backgrounds and both worked to save money for our own home in the ‘country.’ Needless to say gifts and presents came only at Christmas and birthdays- Except for books. You just never knew when a book, like Poky little Puppy might be brought home. Books were a prize you got for some achievement like a good report card (something I have carried on with my own kids) or a job well done.
My parents also had endless patience with storytelling and we were a very loquacious family. My mother would often put one of us forward at family gatherings to ‘tell that story about the squirrel’ etc. She also shared with my sister and me her most favorite serial books like The Bobbessey Twins and Nancy Drew. As a matter of fact that summer we moved to Hanson, between first and second grade is when I could finally read with some fluency. I was struggling to read a Bobbessey Twin mystery and I stumbled over the word ‘exclaimed’. All my books up till then had characters that ‘said’ stuff. Dick ‘said’ this and Jane ‘said’ that. No ever exclaimed or asked or expostulated, at least until Nan and Bert and Freddie and Flossie. Whether I was simply developmentally ready for reading fluency or whether the books I read ‘sounded more’ like what I heard I am not sure but suddenly I could read smoothly and with little effort.
From then on I wanted books that used lots of words -all kinds of strange new and wonderful words. For about a year I peppered my verbalizations with words like ‘exclaimed’ and probably drove my parents crazy. But thankfully they did not squash my budding vocabulary and the only true criticism I got from my mother was my terrible penmanship and worse spelling. My dad tried to soften the blow since as a fellow lefty he knew the trials of neat writing. As a small child the nuns used to tie his left hand behind his back to get him to write with the correct hand. He said he stuttered that entire year and was kept back. A more progressive nun the following year untied his hand and told him to just write.
As a teenager though my guidance counselor Sister Emma Jean took one look at my carefully filled out college application and shuddered in horror, “from now on you should print in capital letters to be legible, save cursive for your signature only! Luckily you are a smart girl and in the business world you will have a secretary, your penmanship is worse than any 3rd grader!”
To this day I still feel self conscious about writing and spelling and am thankful almost everything is typed. As a matter of fact, I am an avid Facebook poster and I think my spelling creativity is considered more charming than atrocious. My friend PJ says if he just reads straight across without stopping he can almost always comprehend it! It does give me patience and a feeling of affection for my little kindergarten children who struggle to make their print both legible and understandable that is for certain!
As an adult I continue to love to read and write and do so daily. My interest in all books about dogs and children has expanded of course. I still read animal stories both nonfiction and fiction. I love biographies dating back from a wonderful children’s series in Hanson’ little elementary school library about famous people when they were children. As a parent I fell in love with magazine article reading because let’s face it, when your kids are small who has time to drink a whole cup of tea let alone read an entire book? I spent about 8 years reading every magazine I could get my hands on when my kids were babies. My dirty little secret is Regency Romance novels and not just the cheesy bodice rippers. I love the well written Regency and Georgette Heyer is my all time favorite and all her stories end with a kiss…..naughty scenes left to the imagination.
I write a blog and have had a number of articles published albeit in small periodicals….on fostercare and rabbit raising! I love stories and am a raconteur; even the older teens look forward to Mrs. Blauss as their sub because they know if they get their work done she will tell them one of her stories!
I still find books to be magical and although I have a Kindle on my phone nothing beats the smell of a freshly published book. Too, nothing matches the feel of a well worn beloved text, and if a story is good I eagerly reread it again and again.
I have been lucky enough to work with emergent readers in kindergarten and there is something truly special about being a part of a young child’s self discovery when the code is broken and they can READ.
MED6040 LITERACY AUTOBIOGRAPHY Susan Blauss 2011
One evening my father returned home with a great big surprise for me, my very own book and it was a giant size tome. Apparently the little Golden Book Company made not only small books but great lap size books of their favorite stories. Too big for me to hold while I stood up, I placed it on the floor and sprawled next to it staring in wonder at the beautifully illustrated cover. I can still remember the pipe smoke smell of my dad and his long fingers as he pointed to the words. “It says Poky Little Puppy. I knew it was the perfect book for you!”
I remember that moment with crystal clarity and I was just 3 years old. But that book with its wonderful pictures of big eyed puppies and the mysterious type underneath held me spellbound. It would be another 3 years before I could read the words myself and it would be another dog to open the magical world of reading to me.
That moment occurred in first grade as our beloved teacher old Miss Roache motioned with her pointer to the words on the easel in the front of our class. (How is that for a teacher name? Poor thing, I thought of her as old but my mother says she was in her early 20s!)
In the city of Boston our hard seats were still bolted to the floor and attached to our desks that were lined up in rigid rows. As Miss Roache pointed to the words and we recited with her, the language suddenly came into focus for me. We had been looking at this page for close to a week, with its neat block letters and drawing of a black cocker spaniel on it. I had memorized the words on the first day of course in my eagerness to absorb anything and everything about dogs. But all of a sudden it just clicked for me. All those laboriously written out phonics papers with the letter formations and recitation just came together and I could READ the words. Slowly but definitely READ the words. I jumped up from my seat and shouted with excitement. I still remember them today. “Tag. See Tag. Tag can run. Tag can play. We like Tag.”
Phonics still held sway in the late 60s in Boston and we worked tirelessly on papers that helped us learn the rules of grammar, and long a short a, what sound oi made and how it differed from ou. I found the papers boring to do and the print hard for my left hand to form. Cursive in the 3rd grade would prove even more laborious. (Ugg, how I hated to learn cursive! My left handed writing was messy, not at all like the fancy curling letters my mother could make, nor like the precise lettering of my teachers. Plus both print and cursive was too slow a process and could not keep up with the quick flow of words in my mind. Atrocious spelling was the inevitable result of rushing to put words on paper, to get my ideas out as they poured faster and faster from my head. To this day my spelling remains abysmal and autocorrect has truly proven a nightmare for anyone trying to read my writing.)
We moved in second grade to Hanson and whole language must’ve prevailed because I never saw another phonics paper and every classroom had its own library not to mention a larger school library.
In fifth grade I read Helen Keller’s biography and that moment as Annie holds the young Helen’s hand in the water at the water pump signing w a t e r while pumping the water and Helen GETS it, gets sign language…. I clearly remembered the moment Tag. See Tag. became comprehensible to me. For me the ability to read was just that dramatic. Reading and writing still retain that magic for me today.
Both my parents were voracious readers and my mother a wonderful writer. In our home growing up if you were watching TV you were ‘doing nothing’ and could be interrupted to do some chore. But if you were reading, you were ‘doing something important ‘and not to be interrupted. My dad read great works of literature and historical works both fiction and non. He also had a tawdry taste for really bad science fiction. Mom preferred the latest best sellers and going to the library was a twice a week venture in our house. She also read anything medical (she was a nurse) and had a secret love for Harlequin romances. She called them ‘snack ‘books.
We had the Boston Globe delivered every morning and the Brockton Enterprise every evening. My parents never told us to read and they only read to us when we were very small. Both came from very poor backgrounds and both worked to save money for our own home in the ‘country.’ Needless to say gifts and presents came only at Christmas and birthdays- Except for books. You just never knew when a book, like Poky little Puppy might be brought home. Books were a prize you got for some achievement like a good report card (something I have carried on with my own kids) or a job well done.
My parents also had endless patience with storytelling and we were a very loquacious family. My mother would often put one of us forward at family gatherings to ‘tell that story about the squirrel’ etc. She also shared with my sister and me her most favorite serial books like The Bobbessey Twins and Nancy Drew. As a matter of fact that summer we moved to Hanson, between first and second grade is when I could finally read with some fluency. I was struggling to read a Bobbessey Twin mystery and I stumbled over the word ‘exclaimed’. All my books up till then had characters that ‘said’ stuff. Dick ‘said’ this and Jane ‘said’ that. No ever exclaimed or asked or expostulated, at least until Nan and Bert and Freddie and Flossie. Whether I was simply developmentally ready for reading fluency or whether the books I read ‘sounded more’ like what I heard I am not sure but suddenly I could read smoothly and with little effort.
From then on I wanted books that used lots of words -all kinds of strange new and wonderful words. For about a year I peppered my verbalizations with words like ‘exclaimed’ and probably drove my parents crazy. But thankfully they did not squash my budding vocabulary and the only true criticism I got from my mother was my terrible penmanship and worse spelling. My dad tried to soften the blow since as a fellow lefty he knew the trials of neat writing. As a small child the nuns used to tie his left hand behind his back to get him to write with the correct hand. He said he stuttered that entire year and was kept back. A more progressive nun the following year untied his hand and told him to just write.
As a teenager though my guidance counselor Sister Emma Jean took one look at my carefully filled out college application and shuddered in horror, “from now on you should print in capital letters to be legible, save cursive for your signature only! Luckily you are a smart girl and in the business world you will have a secretary, your penmanship is worse than any 3rd grader!”
To this day I still feel self conscious about writing and spelling and am thankful almost everything is typed. As a matter of fact, I am an avid Facebook poster and I think my spelling creativity is considered more charming than atrocious. My friend PJ says if he just reads straight across without stopping he can almost always comprehend it! It does give me patience and a feeling of affection for my little kindergarten children who struggle to make their print both legible and understandable that is for certain!
As an adult I continue to love to read and write and do so daily. My interest in all books about dogs and children has expanded of course. I still read animal stories both nonfiction and fiction. I love biographies dating back from a wonderful children’s series in Hanson’ little elementary school library about famous people when they were children. As a parent I fell in love with magazine article reading because let’s face it, when your kids are small who has time to drink a whole cup of tea let alone read an entire book? I spent about 8 years reading every magazine I could get my hands on when my kids were babies. My dirty little secret is Regency Romance novels and not just the cheesy bodice rippers. I love the well written Regency and Georgette Heyer is my all time favorite and all her stories end with a kiss…..naughty scenes left to the imagination.
I write a blog and have had a number of articles published albeit in small periodicals….on fostercare and rabbit raising! I love stories and am a raconteur; even the older teens look forward to Mrs. Blauss as their sub because they know if they get their work done she will tell them one of her stories!
I still find books to be magical and although I have a Kindle on my phone nothing beats the smell of a freshly published book. Too, nothing matches the feel of a well worn beloved text, and if a story is good I eagerly reread it again and again.
I have been lucky enough to work with emergent readers in kindergarten and there is something truly special about being a part of a young child’s self discovery when the code is broken and they can READ.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Welcome Pumpkin and Autumn
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Monday, October 10, 2011
Life in Abundance: to the Rainbow Bridge for Lily
Today at Mass the second reading spoke about knowing both what it was like to live in abundance and what it was like to live in need. Today I have known both in a very deep way.
First Joe and I spent a glorious day at the last bunny show of the 2011 season. His chinchilla Netherland doe "Romani" was looking mighty pretty and she has learned to pose and preen for the judge.
She took her second best of breed ever after racking up five best opposite sex of breeds. He excitedly brought her up to the BIS table where all the other youth BOBs were lining up. We had waited over an hour and a half for this moment and were equal parts excited and exhausted.
All the animals up there were Quality and I cannot imagine having to be the judge that decides. But today Romani had what it took. As the judge pulled her out for one last look and she snapped into a perfect pose he could not help but grin. "Today Best in Show is the little Netherland!"
Joe gave the biggest grin and of course my eyes watered with joy. In that spilt second I had a rush of memories. This was a first time event for us. In 15 years we only came close once when Corey took a Reserve in Show with his New Zealand. (BTW Joe's bunny took RIS in show b today as well!)
But over the years the kids and I have had many an exciting win or great bunny adventure and as I watched Joe pose for pictures and listened to all the applause I had all sorts of snapshots in my mind of those moments. What a great feeling. What a wonderful prize for Joe and 3Bs Rabbitry!
But when we got home to take care of bunnies, care for the goats, feed the baby parrot, and let the dogs out our euphoria abruptly changed to concern.
Miss Lily clearly suffered a small stroke in our absence and was confused and uncomfortable. We got her both outside and then back in but although she acknowledged me in her polite sweet way she clearly was in distress.
I could not coax her back on the plush bed Mary and Matt got for her.She acted as though it was foreign to her. She kept trying to follow me and then would gaze off or circle a bit and lean against me.
I worried so but we had to make it to Hanson and the teen Mass. Fearing she would die before I got back, I shut the kitchen gate and looked over at her one last time. She sank down to sleep on the hard floor and the other two dogs with grave concern curled up next to her, something they have never ever done.
When we returned she was on her little bed but Julie and I had a heck of a time rousing her. I got her outside one last time for a little walk. She wanted to go right into the garden but we slowly wandered the side yard first and I had memories running through my mind again. Memories of snowstorms where she leaped about in the snow. Memories of bunnies and baby chicks that she joyfully tried to herd. About the time she made us come outside and help a baby bird that fell out of the nest. About the foster kids that she let pull her shaggy coat because Lily loved all small creatures.
I thought about how I spent all my money on her and how she was going to be a great show dog. But we ended up with a rather unscrupulous breeder and got stuck paying money for a dog who had a limited registration. I learned that meant no show dog for me.
We tried obedience and discovered although Lily was very smart she was also painfully shy. She did everything we asked of her in class and in the 4H show ring. But she shook in terror the entire time.
Lily was a shydog, a disability that can make it very hard to keep a dog in a family such as ours. But I bought a book about it and researched and together Lily and I made it work. Instead of a famous show dog she and I had great adventures here on our little farm.
She never met another animal she did not instantly love. Rabbits, cats, other dogs, even the goats. Although she remained very shy around men she adored kids and babies held endless fascination for her.
She shared my terror of thunderstorms and also my love for popcorn. She loved long walks in any weather and never once chewed my shoes or socks
Unlike most Bearded Collies she was very quiet and we think if it werent for Mr Yippy Bambam we do not believe she would have ever barked.
She was a champion show dog in my eyes even if she never won a blue ribbon. She was a true and faithful friend and never minded if I talked too much or if I could not keep her shaggy coat mat free.
She would patiently stand on that stupid grooming table for hours before dozing off in boredom as I struggled to keep her flowing hair from turning into one giant snarl. As she got older and her tumor larger her hair began to fall out and never grew back evenly.
She smelled like an old rug these last coupla years and often looked like a poster child for a rescue dog commercial.Mostly blind and deaf and moving ever so slowly though her day but always that tail was willing to wag and she would give that goofy Beardie grin and just melt your heart.
Tonight she died in my arms. A little suffering and then quiet. The Rainbow Bridge is where they say dogs go. For me though It will not be heaven without dogs in it.
Goodnight my gentle friend. Your little shell of a body could not contain your great love or your sweet devotion to home and family. We are burying you out by the bunny barn where you spent countless hours trying to get the baby bunnies to play with you. Your goofy grin and silly puppy play bow would first frighten and then fascinate them.
A life in abundance you gave us my Dear Lily. Good Dog.
Sunday, October 09, 2011
Saturday, October 08, 2011
Congas in the lving room
Over the years both Mary and Corey have brought kids home from college during the Columbus Day weekend to check out cranberry harvesting in our little town. Sometimes they attend official cranberry festivals and corn mazes. Other times they go to local cranberry growers bogs and watch the harvest and chat with our friends.
I use to panic about them inviting people who clearly came from different (read different to mean much more wealthy!) backgrounds to our house. Housecleaning is last on the list around here on any given day and Fall is a particularly crazy time. But the college kids have always seemed captivated by the younger kids here, or the animals ,or possibly by Donnie and I (we keep them well fed at any rate!)
This year I had to let go of housefrau worries and decide it is what it is. In addition to our regular Fall business we have Mary's move, a bunny show, and a variety of other activities over the weekend which means although we always have time and room for extra kids, we certainly do NOT have time to worry if the bathroom tiles are appropriately sparkly.
Nikki too wanted a friend over and they happily slept in the new sweet red jeep we picked up as a replacement vehicle of either Don's ailing truck or my old station wagon. It is not on the road yet and needs a new alternator. But it sure is pretty and Nikki has designs on it since she turns 16 in November.
Corey and his college buddies came over and last night was rather loud and raucus. They had a roaring garden fire going and friends dropping by and lots of time to eat drink and be merry. There are still baby bunnies to be held and lots of animals to convene with.
I loved getting up this morning and having a slice of beer bread. It seems my Corey has become the chef amoung his friends and it was certainly tasty! Donnie whipped them up breakfast and once they got over their shyness they tucked away all the bacon and plenty of eggs!
Somehow we ended up in the living room where they dutifully marveled at the incubator and its five prescious chicken eggs. Sparrow, Joes baby parrot, flew from shoulder to shoulder, showing off its new skill. The baby bird is still being handfed but it did try to eat some of Corey's beer breasd. The alcohol cooks out of it, right?
As always happens anytime Donnie sits down for a moment, somehow a guitar winds up in his hands and he was quietly playing along as we all chatted and played with the baby bird. But then our conversation began to be punctuated by a Latin beat. It seems Donnie has always wanted congas and he and Julie picked up a pair on sale yesterday, using a gift certificate the children all got Don for Father's Day.
Do you know what congas are? I thought I did. I thought they were a little pair of drums. Turns out those are bongos. When Don said congas would be a nice addition to the music he is doing with Catholic kids at St Joes in Hanson I thought how cute those little drums (bongos) would make.
But congas are those giant Ricky Ricardo I Love Lucy babaloo drums!
Corey had a ball tapping out a beat on the drums and soon Donnie and Corey were playing the same tune. Baby bird, tired from his new flying skills, drifted off to sleep during the noise and confusion.
I think when college kids come to our house to check out the cranberry festival they get a lot more than they bargained for!
I use to panic about them inviting people who clearly came from different (read different to mean much more wealthy!) backgrounds to our house. Housecleaning is last on the list around here on any given day and Fall is a particularly crazy time. But the college kids have always seemed captivated by the younger kids here, or the animals ,or possibly by Donnie and I (we keep them well fed at any rate!)
This year I had to let go of housefrau worries and decide it is what it is. In addition to our regular Fall business we have Mary's move, a bunny show, and a variety of other activities over the weekend which means although we always have time and room for extra kids, we certainly do NOT have time to worry if the bathroom tiles are appropriately sparkly.
Nikki too wanted a friend over and they happily slept in the new sweet red jeep we picked up as a replacement vehicle of either Don's ailing truck or my old station wagon. It is not on the road yet and needs a new alternator. But it sure is pretty and Nikki has designs on it since she turns 16 in November.
Corey and his college buddies came over and last night was rather loud and raucus. They had a roaring garden fire going and friends dropping by and lots of time to eat drink and be merry. There are still baby bunnies to be held and lots of animals to convene with.
I loved getting up this morning and having a slice of beer bread. It seems my Corey has become the chef amoung his friends and it was certainly tasty! Donnie whipped them up breakfast and once they got over their shyness they tucked away all the bacon and plenty of eggs!
Somehow we ended up in the living room where they dutifully marveled at the incubator and its five prescious chicken eggs. Sparrow, Joes baby parrot, flew from shoulder to shoulder, showing off its new skill. The baby bird is still being handfed but it did try to eat some of Corey's beer breasd. The alcohol cooks out of it, right?
As always happens anytime Donnie sits down for a moment, somehow a guitar winds up in his hands and he was quietly playing along as we all chatted and played with the baby bird. But then our conversation began to be punctuated by a Latin beat. It seems Donnie has always wanted congas and he and Julie picked up a pair on sale yesterday, using a gift certificate the children all got Don for Father's Day.
Do you know what congas are? I thought I did. I thought they were a little pair of drums. Turns out those are bongos. When Don said congas would be a nice addition to the music he is doing with Catholic kids at St Joes in Hanson I thought how cute those little drums (bongos) would make.
But congas are those giant Ricky Ricardo I Love Lucy babaloo drums!
Corey had a ball tapping out a beat on the drums and soon Donnie and Corey were playing the same tune. Baby bird, tired from his new flying skills, drifted off to sleep during the noise and confusion.
I think when college kids come to our house to check out the cranberry festival they get a lot more than they bargained for!
Thursday, October 06, 2011
Scheduling in the schedule
Hard to believe the last time I blogged was September 21. I have blogged often in my head since then but finding the time to sit down and blog well that is a whole other story! I have surely missed it too. It is funny how something becomes a part of you and then you find you need it not just want it.
When I first began blogging, I think it was back in 05, I found the medium a bit constricting. Many a thought I had to leave unsaid because a blog is just so darn public. But over the years I have found ways to hint at deeper feelings or used blogging as a way to explore larger things without having to be completely explicit.
To then go so long without having the time for a good blog session has meant more than one feeling around here has been left unexplored, an intolerable feeling when stress is building as I am sure you can imagine.
Not only has my therapeutic blogging had to take a back seat to break neck life living, but walking has been almost completely removed from my repertoire. I used long walks to help think things through, reduce stress, get exercise, use my imagination, practice a difficult dialogue with an imagined audience, etc. But plantar fasciitus has made walking almost unbearable.
This morning for instance I broke my no walking rule to take a vigorous hour and a half stroll through conservation land in Hanover. Now however my feet are killing me and the simple task of walking up the stairs to let the dog in is almost unendurable. But I think more clearly when I walk and my soul just fills up to be briskly moving through trees and by waterways.
I did not walk alone either. The company was splendid, the conversation fascinating and philosophical, the topics wide ranging and meaningful. My strolling partner was my eldest Mary who less than a week will become a West Coast girl as she and her husband begin a new chapter out in Seattle.
I could not be more happy for them or more miserable for me. I also foolishly think that after they leave next Saturday that somehow my stress and sadness will be diminished and will not interfere with regular life. See how silly my mind goes when I have no time to blog or walk?
I think the other thing I am very slowly realising and it comes as a bit of a shock to me-I believe I have bit off more than I can chew.
Working 2 jobs, going for my Masters, working on our little farm, parenting, sistering, spousing, being a good and available friend to friends who are facing enormous hurdles of their own.... well it has all gotten to be too much! The demands of Special Olympics, weight watchers, two high schools, various 4H clubs, book club, PTO, NEASC, CCD, rabbit club....
I have always been able to be the clown who can leap from the clown car and with great flourish juggle not just all the balls in the air, but the plates, and cups, and toy poodle too! Lately however the balls are slipping. (No that is not a middle age manpart joke, mind out of the gutter faithful reader!)
I have lists and lists of lists and stacks of have to books to read and want to magazines....my poor Regency Romance novels are woefully neglected.
But I do not have time yet to reflect or organize or reduce reuse or recycle. I am aware that I need too. But when you are juggling to keep everything up there is no time to Wonder what you can put down!
Tomorrow one task I will set for myself is too look at the calendar and really map out due dates and must dos. then I am going to have to redouble my efforts to fit in some down time and stop trying to multitask every aspect of my life.
I know we are all busy. But do any of you sit on the toilet while brushing your teeth with one hand, your hair with the other, while using your foot to push a towel across the floor to wipe up water while thinking about what to defrost for dinner? Have any of you done this little multitask dance two days in a row?
This morning as I realised not only what I was doing....but that I had done the EXACT same thing yesterday it occurred to me that my heart has only so many beats and I damn well better not wear it out while sitting on the throne!!!
The art of saying no, asking for help, and letting others do for themselves are not skills that come naturally to me. But I have big plans for myself and those in my little sphere. It seems for every one's sake I had best get my head back in the game.
So although it does not look like the pace is letting up anytime soon, I need to take time to pray, breathe, stretch, and perhaps even squeeze in a Regency Romance or two. I shall let you know how it works out.
Meanwhile everyone: deep breath in, hold, breath out...again.
When I first began blogging, I think it was back in 05, I found the medium a bit constricting. Many a thought I had to leave unsaid because a blog is just so darn public. But over the years I have found ways to hint at deeper feelings or used blogging as a way to explore larger things without having to be completely explicit.
To then go so long without having the time for a good blog session has meant more than one feeling around here has been left unexplored, an intolerable feeling when stress is building as I am sure you can imagine.
Not only has my therapeutic blogging had to take a back seat to break neck life living, but walking has been almost completely removed from my repertoire. I used long walks to help think things through, reduce stress, get exercise, use my imagination, practice a difficult dialogue with an imagined audience, etc. But plantar fasciitus has made walking almost unbearable.
This morning for instance I broke my no walking rule to take a vigorous hour and a half stroll through conservation land in Hanover. Now however my feet are killing me and the simple task of walking up the stairs to let the dog in is almost unendurable. But I think more clearly when I walk and my soul just fills up to be briskly moving through trees and by waterways.
I did not walk alone either. The company was splendid, the conversation fascinating and philosophical, the topics wide ranging and meaningful. My strolling partner was my eldest Mary who less than a week will become a West Coast girl as she and her husband begin a new chapter out in Seattle.
I could not be more happy for them or more miserable for me. I also foolishly think that after they leave next Saturday that somehow my stress and sadness will be diminished and will not interfere with regular life. See how silly my mind goes when I have no time to blog or walk?
I think the other thing I am very slowly realising and it comes as a bit of a shock to me-I believe I have bit off more than I can chew.
Working 2 jobs, going for my Masters, working on our little farm, parenting, sistering, spousing, being a good and available friend to friends who are facing enormous hurdles of their own.... well it has all gotten to be too much! The demands of Special Olympics, weight watchers, two high schools, various 4H clubs, book club, PTO, NEASC, CCD, rabbit club....
I have always been able to be the clown who can leap from the clown car and with great flourish juggle not just all the balls in the air, but the plates, and cups, and toy poodle too! Lately however the balls are slipping. (No that is not a middle age manpart joke, mind out of the gutter faithful reader!)
I have lists and lists of lists and stacks of have to books to read and want to magazines....my poor Regency Romance novels are woefully neglected.
But I do not have time yet to reflect or organize or reduce reuse or recycle. I am aware that I need too. But when you are juggling to keep everything up there is no time to Wonder what you can put down!
Tomorrow one task I will set for myself is too look at the calendar and really map out due dates and must dos. then I am going to have to redouble my efforts to fit in some down time and stop trying to multitask every aspect of my life.
I know we are all busy. But do any of you sit on the toilet while brushing your teeth with one hand, your hair with the other, while using your foot to push a towel across the floor to wipe up water while thinking about what to defrost for dinner? Have any of you done this little multitask dance two days in a row?
This morning as I realised not only what I was doing....but that I had done the EXACT same thing yesterday it occurred to me that my heart has only so many beats and I damn well better not wear it out while sitting on the throne!!!
The art of saying no, asking for help, and letting others do for themselves are not skills that come naturally to me. But I have big plans for myself and those in my little sphere. It seems for every one's sake I had best get my head back in the game.
So although it does not look like the pace is letting up anytime soon, I need to take time to pray, breathe, stretch, and perhaps even squeeze in a Regency Romance or two. I shall let you know how it works out.
Meanwhile everyone: deep breath in, hold, breath out...again.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Mad as a Meatball
A little boy I knew a few years ago became so angry one day that he stood shaking and speechless with rage. Finally he exploded "I am mad as a meatball!"
Mad as a meatball. Seeing his quivering yet rigid body, and hearing the tremors of fury that shook his voice, I was in awe at this tiny seething dynamo of rage. That kind of anger is worthy of a grudging respect. He was normally a cheerful little guy but on that day the emotion of outrage filled his being until it could not be contained. Until he became mad as a meatball.
Being a normally happy go lucky sort of person that much negative emotion holds a certain awe for me as well as an appreciation that I am not as a rule an angry sort of person.
I know people whose first response to every untoward event is unmitigated rage and quite frankly it is exhausting and I find myself distancing from that sort of personality. People who are certain that everyone has a hidden agenda that everyone is against them and out for themselves are just too draining for me to be to close too.
But when a normally peace-able sort of person is in the midst of, I guess it would be called righteous indignation, well I have a healthy respect for that.
Well today that mad as a meatball person was me. Or rather still is me but I am trying to let go of what I can. Boy when you get THAT mad your heart really pounds as does your temple. For me after the initial inertia of sheer rage I then can speak one mile a minute VERY loudly and with deadly and indignant accuracy.
I guess technically I am no longer mad as a meatball because my heart and head are working at normal speed and I am thinking before I word things (out loud and in the blog.)
Apparently today for me was to become a veritable Monday of a Wednesday with everything that could go wrong doing so. Add to that some general inconveniences, a deep selfishness of a few key people and some hurtful actions and you have...well you have me mad as a meatball!
Scientists in the 80s claimed anger was bad bad bad for you but I think that has changed over time. Being grouchy all the time or as a first line of defence cannot possibly be healthy. But I have found when I am well and truly furious THINGS GET DONE. And in a hurry.....
OK I need to settle down. I have solved what I could solve. I have settled what I could settle. It is time to simmer down.... think I will head out to milk Mama goat and spend sometime with the bunnies. After that we have a couple of TV shows that resume tonight and a little quality boobtube time will defintely be good for my bloodpressure.
Hope no one makes you mad as a meatball but if you find yourself in such a situation perhaps you can think of the little phrase coined by that irate youngster and perhaps it will ease your rage to a manageable level. Peace.
Mad as a meatball. Seeing his quivering yet rigid body, and hearing the tremors of fury that shook his voice, I was in awe at this tiny seething dynamo of rage. That kind of anger is worthy of a grudging respect. He was normally a cheerful little guy but on that day the emotion of outrage filled his being until it could not be contained. Until he became mad as a meatball.
Being a normally happy go lucky sort of person that much negative emotion holds a certain awe for me as well as an appreciation that I am not as a rule an angry sort of person.
I know people whose first response to every untoward event is unmitigated rage and quite frankly it is exhausting and I find myself distancing from that sort of personality. People who are certain that everyone has a hidden agenda that everyone is against them and out for themselves are just too draining for me to be to close too.
But when a normally peace-able sort of person is in the midst of, I guess it would be called righteous indignation, well I have a healthy respect for that.
Well today that mad as a meatball person was me. Or rather still is me but I am trying to let go of what I can. Boy when you get THAT mad your heart really pounds as does your temple. For me after the initial inertia of sheer rage I then can speak one mile a minute VERY loudly and with deadly and indignant accuracy.
I guess technically I am no longer mad as a meatball because my heart and head are working at normal speed and I am thinking before I word things (out loud and in the blog.)
Apparently today for me was to become a veritable Monday of a Wednesday with everything that could go wrong doing so. Add to that some general inconveniences, a deep selfishness of a few key people and some hurtful actions and you have...well you have me mad as a meatball!
Scientists in the 80s claimed anger was bad bad bad for you but I think that has changed over time. Being grouchy all the time or as a first line of defence cannot possibly be healthy. But I have found when I am well and truly furious THINGS GET DONE. And in a hurry.....
OK I need to settle down. I have solved what I could solve. I have settled what I could settle. It is time to simmer down.... think I will head out to milk Mama goat and spend sometime with the bunnies. After that we have a couple of TV shows that resume tonight and a little quality boobtube time will defintely be good for my bloodpressure.
Hope no one makes you mad as a meatball but if you find yourself in such a situation perhaps you can think of the little phrase coined by that irate youngster and perhaps it will ease your rage to a manageable level. Peace.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Leaving Home
You raise your children to be good citizens, well functioning, happy, productive, adults in this fast paced modern world. I can rememeber when they were little and in the midst of one stage or another. One of the key questions I debated with myself was, is this a habit I can put up with when they are 3 or 10? Will this help them to be well adjusted grownups?
I babysat for kids where I had to walk the floor hours before they would fall alseep. That made me determined NOT to do so with my own kids. I knew kids who whacked and wailed upon their siblings and all I could envision was adults beating up one another and so there was no hitting allowed in my house. (If you hit your sibling you had to not only apologise but give your sibling your snack at snack time. They may not have been sorry but by the time they watched their sibling enjoy their snack they made sure not to hit again!)
I wanted them to be independent responsible people....but not too independent!
As our children began to prepare for college I was amazed at the parents who had seemingly no trouble with their children going way far away to college. I kept telling my kids that people come from all over the world to go to schools in New England and there was no need for them to be more than an hour or two away from their mother!
3 out of 4 of our older children chose to live on campus and although I missed them terribly I knew I could 'get' to them if I had to in about 60 minutes by car. This brought great comfort and I certainly encouraged them to think for themselves and make the right choices. I also felt confident in their skills to be just fine. But I liked knowing I could get to them if I needed too, and all the kids as they have transistioned to full adulthood have called, emailed, texted asking for advice on various aspects of their very busy lives. But now one of our kids is making a momentuous decision. Actually it is already been made but today they were telling their respective work places.
My wonderful gifted talented soninlaw has been offered a dream position at the company he has always wanted to work for. Not just offered, but positively showered with benefits. These people see the amazing skills he has and wants him for their product.
But their company is based in SEATTLE WASHINGTON....three thousand miles from my house.
Mary is going to be working on a consultant basis doing her geneaology and WRITING a book her place wants to publish. So of course she can do these things with her husband in SEATTLE WASHINGTON three thousand miles away from my house.
Mary and Matt had asked our advice as they began this process to looking for a more challenging company for Matts very real talent.... there are smaller good companies here in the East but some of the best and brightest are out West.
Both kids (ok they have been married nearly 5 years, but still they are my kids) have always been thoughtful obedient and caring. They wanted our honest opinion. I wanted to say "STAY WITH ME- DO NOT GO ANYWHERE- I CANNOT BEAR TO HAVE YOU SO FAR AWAY!"
But of course here is the thing: You raise your kids to be independent. So what I said, what Don and I have always said right along even as our hearts were breaking. "Of course you should pursue your dreams. Of course you should take this chance. This is the time to do it."
The area where they will work and live sounds wonderful (Belleview just outside of Seattle.) Their jobs will bring them great joy and wonderful challenges. This is the perfect time for them to try something new. If it is not for them they can always come back home.
But..... how can I go about my day knowing I cannot get to them? THEY will be fine. They should do this. I am so very happy they have the chance .
Can you imagine in this economy having the opportunity of a fascinating job with excellent money and wonderful benefits?
They are more than ready to leave home.... but I am just not quite there yet. I better get there in a hurry though because they will be out West in a month.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Education and Society
Before I ever entered the room for my 7 hour class(it meets only 4 times) I had already nearly psyched myself out. The over 300 hundred pages of reading that had to be done before the first class I could handle. Although Locke and Rousseau are as scintillating as I remember, the reading was doable.
But the 3 assignments, ugg. I had to list 10 of the top problems facing Education today. I had to write a two page essay answering the questions "What is education? What is the purpose of education?" Then I had to write a two page personal philosophy stating my beliefs about education incorporating student, teacher, curriculum, community, etc.
The tricky part? All the writing had to be done with out the use of a pronoun. How in heavens name do you write a personal philosophy without ever using the word "I"? I labored over the assignments making numerous revisions and then moved on to fret about the readings. Perhaps I was suppose to take notes? I am a very fast reader and have somewhat of a photographic memory. So I am able to remember what was on the page when we talk about it in class. Therefore I do not take notes when I read. If there is something in the text I do not understand or I am curious about I simply research more of the topic. Of course since the advent of the internet this is much easier to do.
By the time I made it into the class room on the second floor I was having heart palpitations. I slid into a seat in back (like a good Catholic, we never take the front row.) In looking around I happened to notice that the window was open and a lovely sea salt breeze was wafting in. Even better there was a magnificient view of the ocean.
Slowly my body released its tension and I could not but help contemplate those hardy Pilgrims who also had this daily view. We of course read about them and their attitudes and contributions towards education in America.
Anway my ocean view and heaven sent breezy seat really put me into a learn all I can mode.The class was fascinating and by the time I left I was so drained I was not certain I could even drive home. What an interesting stimulating EXHAUSTING day.
My classmates and I are slowly bonding and I can see how helpful the cohort theory in a Masters program can be. During our lunch break it was a bit intimidating to hear about people leaving their jobs or cutting back on their hours to focus on their education however. There is no such thing of cutting back on my schedule....so.... ah well suffice unto the day dot dot dot .
This Masters endeavor is proving to be quite a challenge...but an interesting one!
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Thursday, September 01, 2011
Looking out at the road rushing under my wheels
Today I had a little adventure. While I was milking the goat (at 6am.) and moving the 3 high schoolers along so they would make the bus, it dawned on me that I would have about 3 hours of uninterrupted time in the day. Granted my brother, Tim, and Julie were all at home. But if I did not mind moving my adventure out on the road I could be by myself taking care of myself.
You know how rare and unusual this is. Now granted I had more than enough on my to do list to occupy ten times the amount of free hours I had available. But except for a couple of calls I needed to make and one small errand everything else could wait.
Quickly taking care of my have tos I went out giddy with adventurous spirit. In the driveway I faced two options. I could take the van, or grab the keys to Dons standard truck and drive that.
Well I love my van. It fits all of us and the animals and with all the seats in, sits 15. The Blaussmmobile is recognised every where in town and although it embarrasses certain household members this does not phase me in the least.
It has both heat AND airconditioning, something not all Blauss cars possess and it was bought with the money left from my parents so I always think of them as I drive it.
For all of that though it is not exactly a car of great excitement. It does not make one feel free and easy when it is impossible to parallel park (for me anyway!)
So feeling like I was getting away with something I grabbed the keys to Dons truck and took off. I am not in any way a car person. I happen to own 3 Ford vehicles but it took someone else to tell me that as it was not by any intention. I crushed my bunny friends feelings the other day at a rabbit show when he proudly asked if I had seen his new car. "Oh, the gray one? Its pretty I guess is it new?" He groaned and exclaimed "Its a CADILLAC!"
Ooops, who knew? Apparently lots of people but not me. Sorry Jim. But Dons little truck I do know is admired because every time I drive it you think I was a busty skinny young thing. It (and therefore me by extension) gets lots of admiring glances by guys. It is very funny.
Guys apparently check out trucks like they check out chicks! To me the truck has always been a small bone of contention between Donnie and I. When he got it I called it his midlife crisis, country style. It is a standard so almost no one else in the family can drive it. The cab is small and truly only fits two people and we are a family of 10. Now he will argue that there are 2 seats in the back of the cab. Only Joe can actually fit into one but everyone else has to fold in half to squeeze into and remain on one of the other seats. Have you ever ridden in a car while seat belted with your knees up to your chin?
But man oh man is it fun to drive. It is a small Ford Ranger (again I would not know this but for the many men who have admiringly talked to me about it). It is fire engine red which I love. The standard is not too tempermental and at nearly 20 years old it has that almost classic cache to it.
Mind you not to me. To me it is an old clunker that at any moment will leave me stranded or cost me a fortune to keep running. But when driving it on a lovely sunny day with radio and AC blasting....well it is very liberating.
I snuck out to lunch and a quick visit to the beach. But mostly I drove singing songs very loudly and nearly on key. It felt fun and foolish and entirely self indulgent. I almost, almost did not dutifully return home when my schedule of have tos required it.
I may never know the difference between a caddy and a dump truck. But zipping into fifth gear in my fire engine red pick up.... well its a little slice of freeedom that is what it is.
You know how rare and unusual this is. Now granted I had more than enough on my to do list to occupy ten times the amount of free hours I had available. But except for a couple of calls I needed to make and one small errand everything else could wait.
Quickly taking care of my have tos I went out giddy with adventurous spirit. In the driveway I faced two options. I could take the van, or grab the keys to Dons standard truck and drive that.
Well I love my van. It fits all of us and the animals and with all the seats in, sits 15. The Blaussmmobile is recognised every where in town and although it embarrasses certain household members this does not phase me in the least.
It has both heat AND airconditioning, something not all Blauss cars possess and it was bought with the money left from my parents so I always think of them as I drive it.
For all of that though it is not exactly a car of great excitement. It does not make one feel free and easy when it is impossible to parallel park (for me anyway!)
So feeling like I was getting away with something I grabbed the keys to Dons truck and took off. I am not in any way a car person. I happen to own 3 Ford vehicles but it took someone else to tell me that as it was not by any intention. I crushed my bunny friends feelings the other day at a rabbit show when he proudly asked if I had seen his new car. "Oh, the gray one? Its pretty I guess is it new?" He groaned and exclaimed "Its a CADILLAC!"
Ooops, who knew? Apparently lots of people but not me. Sorry Jim. But Dons little truck I do know is admired because every time I drive it you think I was a busty skinny young thing. It (and therefore me by extension) gets lots of admiring glances by guys. It is very funny.
Guys apparently check out trucks like they check out chicks! To me the truck has always been a small bone of contention between Donnie and I. When he got it I called it his midlife crisis, country style. It is a standard so almost no one else in the family can drive it. The cab is small and truly only fits two people and we are a family of 10. Now he will argue that there are 2 seats in the back of the cab. Only Joe can actually fit into one but everyone else has to fold in half to squeeze into and remain on one of the other seats. Have you ever ridden in a car while seat belted with your knees up to your chin?
But man oh man is it fun to drive. It is a small Ford Ranger (again I would not know this but for the many men who have admiringly talked to me about it). It is fire engine red which I love. The standard is not too tempermental and at nearly 20 years old it has that almost classic cache to it.
Mind you not to me. To me it is an old clunker that at any moment will leave me stranded or cost me a fortune to keep running. But when driving it on a lovely sunny day with radio and AC blasting....well it is very liberating.
I snuck out to lunch and a quick visit to the beach. But mostly I drove singing songs very loudly and nearly on key. It felt fun and foolish and entirely self indulgent. I almost, almost did not dutifully return home when my schedule of have tos required it.
I may never know the difference between a caddy and a dump truck. But zipping into fifth gear in my fire engine red pick up.... well its a little slice of freeedom that is what it is.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Survivor
When the power came on last night just before 11 Don and I were out in the front yard and I was responding via cell phone to a lovely FB post my sister sent out to her Ohio friends. She wanted her friends to be aware of our hurricane ravaged powerless state. Her friends responded instantly with thoughts and prayers and boom the lights went back on immediately. Apparently Ohio has some powerful prayer!
Nikki began hootin' and hollarin' and Yon stepped onto the back porch to do a little happy dance. For us- the moment the power returned- that is when our hurricane experience ended. Quite frankly if you can flush your toilet you got nuthin to complain about.
All told we got thru with no power from Sunday morning at ten a.m. to Monday night at 11pm. Only a person who has an extended outage can even comprehend all that goes into that.
For those of you who do not have well water, during a power outage perhaps you do not fully comprehend that it takes just over a gallon of fetched water to flush during no power. Our livestock take 15 gallons a day of fresh water. The water to keep 8 people in basic hygienic state is also substantial....we will not even discuss the laundry needs for us all as it does not even bear thinking about.
We were luckier than some neighbors in that although we lost a lot of brush and limbs, our yard was a carpet of pine boughs, only our bunny roof sustained some minor damage. It was fun the day of the storm to check up on animals and brave the gusty wind. Don and I were a bit intimidated when we watched a huge tree just miss our neighbors house. But mostly it was fun playing cards in the dark, eating melted ice cream, and having steak as a midnight snack.
The party was over when on Monday 3 of us had to work, no lights were on, ice was scarce, and we lost most of the contents of our fridge/freezer.
Our family lives a complicated schedule as you can imagine. 8 of us are here full time, but Corey in college still has to be fit into our schedule. (Last night he came while the lights were still out to borrow a vehicle. He has to be out of his summer housing today and cannot move into his fall housing for a couple of days, uggggg). Mary too although married had to be looked after and Don spent part of today taking care of her falling branches.
Between the 2 4H fairs the imminent start of 3 of us in college, back to school for 3 high schoolers, jobs, animals etc etc ect.....well there is simply no time to achieve all that and keep track of the myraid of things that need electricity in order to accomplish anything. By the end of last night my nerves were frayed enough so almost every child at least made an attempt to help out!
But of course they had their own worries. Poor Nikki for instance tried to straighten her hair while hunched in the car with one of the chargers. (We have a gadangus that you can hook up to a cigarette lighter and then plug a regular electric wire into it.)Joe was busy trying to get his summer reading done! The others were trying to fit work schedules in around school needs and oh boy it was STRESSFUL in the extreme.
To top it off our poor Lily, the decrepit Beardie was TERRIFIED and only today was brave enough to go down the backyard stairs. She actually held her water for 16 hours because she could not make herself get off the porch and go into the pine bough strewn yard. Every sound of limb or generator or wind caused her untold horrors. She is mostly deaf and blind but what did get through caused her doggy nightmares.
But the yard is mostly picked up, the tape removed from the picture window, and the emergency box returned to its cubby. The kids use to make fun of my little emergency box and my insistence that we practice things like fire drills. (In full disclosure what they made fun of was my thunderstorm and tornado drills!)
I sat at a work meeting today with friends who are still without power and as the stress emanated from them I could fully empathise. I love big wind and rain and snow but I. have had my full in 2011 I believe. I am ready for crisp fall days and indian summer
Nikki began hootin' and hollarin' and Yon stepped onto the back porch to do a little happy dance. For us- the moment the power returned- that is when our hurricane experience ended. Quite frankly if you can flush your toilet you got nuthin to complain about.
All told we got thru with no power from Sunday morning at ten a.m. to Monday night at 11pm. Only a person who has an extended outage can even comprehend all that goes into that.
For those of you who do not have well water, during a power outage perhaps you do not fully comprehend that it takes just over a gallon of fetched water to flush during no power. Our livestock take 15 gallons a day of fresh water. The water to keep 8 people in basic hygienic state is also substantial....we will not even discuss the laundry needs for us all as it does not even bear thinking about.
We were luckier than some neighbors in that although we lost a lot of brush and limbs, our yard was a carpet of pine boughs, only our bunny roof sustained some minor damage. It was fun the day of the storm to check up on animals and brave the gusty wind. Don and I were a bit intimidated when we watched a huge tree just miss our neighbors house. But mostly it was fun playing cards in the dark, eating melted ice cream, and having steak as a midnight snack.
The party was over when on Monday 3 of us had to work, no lights were on, ice was scarce, and we lost most of the contents of our fridge/freezer.
Our family lives a complicated schedule as you can imagine. 8 of us are here full time, but Corey in college still has to be fit into our schedule. (Last night he came while the lights were still out to borrow a vehicle. He has to be out of his summer housing today and cannot move into his fall housing for a couple of days, uggggg). Mary too although married had to be looked after and Don spent part of today taking care of her falling branches.
Between the 2 4H fairs the imminent start of 3 of us in college, back to school for 3 high schoolers, jobs, animals etc etc ect.....well there is simply no time to achieve all that and keep track of the myraid of things that need electricity in order to accomplish anything. By the end of last night my nerves were frayed enough so almost every child at least made an attempt to help out!
But of course they had their own worries. Poor Nikki for instance tried to straighten her hair while hunched in the car with one of the chargers. (We have a gadangus that you can hook up to a cigarette lighter and then plug a regular electric wire into it.)Joe was busy trying to get his summer reading done! The others were trying to fit work schedules in around school needs and oh boy it was STRESSFUL in the extreme.
To top it off our poor Lily, the decrepit Beardie was TERRIFIED and only today was brave enough to go down the backyard stairs. She actually held her water for 16 hours because she could not make herself get off the porch and go into the pine bough strewn yard. Every sound of limb or generator or wind caused her untold horrors. She is mostly deaf and blind but what did get through caused her doggy nightmares.
But the yard is mostly picked up, the tape removed from the picture window, and the emergency box returned to its cubby. The kids use to make fun of my little emergency box and my insistence that we practice things like fire drills. (In full disclosure what they made fun of was my thunderstorm and tornado drills!)
I sat at a work meeting today with friends who are still without power and as the stress emanated from them I could fully empathise. I love big wind and rain and snow but I. have had my full in 2011 I believe. I am ready for crisp fall days and indian summer
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Storm Prep
I love the whole 'batten down the hatches' routine. Checking on batteries, flashlights, candles and matches. Is there enough food, prescription meds, beverages? Where will everyone be - home or at work? My preference of course is that everyone remain home so I can indulge in my whole weather love affair without worrying about where my peeps are. (This time around it is Jamie who is furious with me. He feels comfortable sleeping over Marshfield fair in the barn because he feels its his job. I veto this as a mother because no one needs to put an 18 year old in harms way in charge of anything during a state of emergency. But I have not been on his good list in a while and this is just another reason for him to be disgusted with me. On the other hand he will never see that my keeping him home all day tomorrow could save his life or the very least his precious truck....PS: All animals are to be removed tonight and the fair is closed tomorrow but these small details mean nothing to a teen who needs to be mad at his mom. le sigh...)
Don finished the roof on time but went up there again to make certain all the gutters are free of debris. Nikki, Julie, Yon, Joe, Tim and I walked the yard removing lawn furniture and toys and other miscellany that might blow in the sustained winds that surely will accompany this mega storm. Tim and Julie worked diligently to help over at the East Middleboro Fair and Jamie has worked tirelessly at the Marshfield fair. Everyone has something to do on the Eve of a great storm.
Of course at our place the big concern is for the animals. Their homes and play areas are weather tight for every day storms. But wins blowing from the south and sustained circling wins over 40 miles an hour offer some tricky challenges. The birds are all out wandering now because their quarters have their winter boards up so that when they are locked in their coops they are storm tight. They do not seem to realise a storm is heading their way but perhaps they have every confidence in their needs being met!
I have decided that tonight I will remove bunnies who live in free standing hutches and put them in carry cages in the bunny barns. They will not be thrilled to be in that small space for 24 hours but they will have food water and be dry!
The big decision is trying to decide what to do about Cloudy and her nearly week old babies. She and they and their nest box will not fit into a carry cage. She will not be pleased however if I move her and her family to another doe's cage as that doe's scent will be everywhere.
The hutch they live in is just out the front door, low to the ground, and snug to the garden fence. Perhaps it would be best to tarp them in but good! I shall have to consult with Don about this....
For now I have the TV on as the constant updates and dramatic maps and reports feed my fascination for blowy weather. I have a horror of both thunderstorms and tornados. But wind rain and snow je adore!
I sincerely hope the storm finds all my friends and family snug and safe. We intend to sticking to home and Joe wants to try to make Irish Stew (Guiness stout and all!) C'mon Irene!
Don finished the roof on time but went up there again to make certain all the gutters are free of debris. Nikki, Julie, Yon, Joe, Tim and I walked the yard removing lawn furniture and toys and other miscellany that might blow in the sustained winds that surely will accompany this mega storm. Tim and Julie worked diligently to help over at the East Middleboro Fair and Jamie has worked tirelessly at the Marshfield fair. Everyone has something to do on the Eve of a great storm.
Of course at our place the big concern is for the animals. Their homes and play areas are weather tight for every day storms. But wins blowing from the south and sustained circling wins over 40 miles an hour offer some tricky challenges. The birds are all out wandering now because their quarters have their winter boards up so that when they are locked in their coops they are storm tight. They do not seem to realise a storm is heading their way but perhaps they have every confidence in their needs being met!
I have decided that tonight I will remove bunnies who live in free standing hutches and put them in carry cages in the bunny barns. They will not be thrilled to be in that small space for 24 hours but they will have food water and be dry!
The big decision is trying to decide what to do about Cloudy and her nearly week old babies. She and they and their nest box will not fit into a carry cage. She will not be pleased however if I move her and her family to another doe's cage as that doe's scent will be everywhere.
The hutch they live in is just out the front door, low to the ground, and snug to the garden fence. Perhaps it would be best to tarp them in but good! I shall have to consult with Don about this....
For now I have the TV on as the constant updates and dramatic maps and reports feed my fascination for blowy weather. I have a horror of both thunderstorms and tornados. But wind rain and snow je adore!
I sincerely hope the storm finds all my friends and family snug and safe. We intend to sticking to home and Joe wants to try to make Irish Stew (Guiness stout and all!) C'mon Irene!
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