The Squirrel and the Crow

As I was walking in the park yesterday I saw a squirrel burying something by a tree. He had already finished filling in his hole and was in the process of tamping down the earth, little paws flying, patting and grabbing bits of leaf and stick to cover over his work. All during his furious flurry of activity a large crow sat and observed at very close range. This crow was definitely in the squirrel's personal space, I'd say, with its beak low to the ground and its beady eye watching the squirrel's every move.

The squirrel seemed to pay no mind to the crow, despite its hovering. He quickly finished the job and hustled off to gather more nuts. The instant he left, the crow jammed its beak into the squirrel's tidy work to retrieve whatever prize the squirrel had been attempting to save for a rainy day.

My first thought was that the squirrel was getting seriously ripped off by this annoying bird. Here he was, trying to plan ahead, start his IRA and rainy day fund and all that, and the lazy-ass crow was going to wreck it all by gorging himself on the squirrel's stash. After thinking about it for a while, though, I decided that the squirrel and the crow both had good plans. It's easy to feel like the squirrel in my life -- work, work, work, try to invest in my future only to have my efforts undone by some looming crow. But the beauty of the scene in the park was that the squirrel was unperturbed by the crow. He looked pleased with himself, if that is possible, and didn't linger and glare at the crow's greedy behavior. And the crow, well, he was just being smart, and conserving his strength. It takes a lot of effort to get that last salt-and-vinegar potato chip out of the bag in the trash can, so why not just follow this guy around and see what he's making for dinner?

So, in the new year, I am thinking I might try to be a little bit more like both the players in that little scene: continue to work hard to lay the groundwork for my future, but also try to live in the moment and take advantage of the riches around me.

Since we've no place to go

By the way, this video was NOT created with Flip4Mac trial, because it sucks, but of course they embed that irritating ad which only becomes visible long after I've jumped through hoops to get sound in my video. Great camera, lousy software. So ignore the product placement and enjoy the show!

Streetless in Seattle

It has continued to snow this week, with snow on Thursday all day, and Saturday afternoon and night. This morning there were about 6 inches piled up with a thin ice crust over the top. We set out to attempt to clear the walk (not owning a snow shovel, we had to use the hoe, garden shovel and broom for our tools) and ended up spending more than 2 hours out working and playing with the snow. After a warm-up and a little lunch, Adelaide is headed out with her dad for some sledding at the park in the snow that is falling again now.It's a relief today that the weather has warmed up enough to have a young child outside. The adults have been fine walking long distances to get out and lessen the cabin fever, but the 20 degree weather combined with icy roads has been very restrictive for our little one. I am a bit concerned about the next few days, especially given our need to get to the airport to pick up Grandma tomorrow. But I'm going to work hard to let my worries go and live in the moment. I certainly was able to do so for a while this morning, when igloo construction took priority over everything else. At least now we have more than one house in which to be housebound!

100th Post

There has been much speculation about what I would accomplish in my first 100 posts here on Blogger. Many felt that my promises were too ambitious; surely humor, politics, video and photo documentation, and cooking could not all fit into so few posts?

Today, America, I say to you, I bring you this, and more. As we work together to provide more and more ways to waste time on the internet, this is my promise to you: I will fritter away your time as if it were my own. I will leave no link un-hyperlinked. No photo un-uploaded. No random meal I ate undocumented. For America, I am nothing without your wasted time.

Thank you, Good Night, and God Bless Blogspot.

Mushroom/cutlet pie

Despite the fact that it actually warmed up quite a bit today, come sunset (aka 4:00 p.m. = total darkness) I felt inspired to have something warm and heavy from the oven for dinner. Given a lack of interest in a trip to the store, I had to make do with what was on hand: an onion, shiitakes, some quorn cutlet and a somewhat sketchy whole wheat frozen pie crust. So, add a little stock and an olive oil rue, a little milk, garlic and dill, and the mushroom pie is born. Just cooked up the veggies in the skillet, made the gravy, threw the crust on top and put the whole thing in the oven. 20 minutes later, dinner is served.

Didn't manage to take a photo before we had put a major dent in it (the smell was so good it made me dig right in) but here's the idea.

sNOw Day

School Superintendent's Checklist for School Closure due to Inclement Weather

Schools Shall be Closed in the Event of the Following:

* Snow accumulation of 1 - 2 inches, visible on bumper of Superintendent's SUV parked in driveway.

Exception: School shall not be closed if lots of parents have called and complained last year about too many school closures. Must keep parent satisfaction numbers high enough to have levy passed.

* Ice on front steps of Superintendent's home, noted when Superintendent checks for the newspaper at 4:00 a.m., only to be disappointed that it has not yet been delivered.

Exception: In the event that the paper is early, Superintendent shall declare schools open and on time, as sufficient reading time is available.

* Road conditions too dangerous for school busses, including black ice, fallen trees, and unplowed snow.

Exception: In the event of a birthday among administrative offices staff, school will have a 1.5 hour late start to allow for pick-up of the Costco cake and on-time party.

* Weather Forecast includes the possibility of snow. Or sun. Or anything sort of unusual or interesting.

Exception: Superintendent doesn't feel like getting up at 4:00 to start calling people about closing school. She can just call in sick later.

* Other districts are closing.

Exception: Superintendent laid out her "I am a rebel" pantsuit the night before, and doesn't feel like picking out a different outfit.

First Snow

One advantage to having a child who is a morning person is that there are days when it is nice to be the first ones up. This morning a very excited four year old rushed into my room to announce: "There is snow outside, and it is covering everything!"

Our street did look very magical in the pre-dawn light, so we quickly threw on some warm layers and boots and headed out. Adelaide started with some snow snacks.
I tried to capture the Seattleite's view of snow. The fact that we get out the camera and rush outside to document in is telling in itself, but it is rare enough here that it feels very exciting.
We didn't see much activity in the neighborhood with the exception of a few running fanatics (Shorts, really? As you tromp through icy puddles?) and over-confident drivers (note to self, no car trips today). Adelaide did some tracking of what she decided was a deer, and I headed to some of my favorite trees in the neighborhood to see them decorated with snow.Next we found a spot in the park to build our snowman. The snow was not very cooperative, so we kept the figure simple and got creative with the adornments. We were lucky to have a hawk circling above us as we worked.
After about an hour in the snow, we were cold and ready to come home for cocoa and Christmas cookies.

I'm grateful to the snow for bringing us out in the early morning. Being under the trees while the light changes to day, breathing cold clean air and hearing only the crunch of snow and ice under our boots and the delight of a child in fresh snow will serve as my most magical gift this holiday season.

Wish I could take credit for this one!

I wonder what would happen if I showed this to Iris and Petunia.

Rosa Sat

If you haven't already heard it, check out this quote from an NPR story during the campaign (it's at 6:56 if you don't want to listen to the whole story).

If you don't want to listen at all, the quote is wonderful, so you can read it below:

Rosa Sat, so Martin could walk. Martin walked, so Obama could run. Obama ran, so our children can fly.

Swim Lessons

Mermaid's Demise

Gratitude

I am grateful.

I am grateful that I have a child to care for and love, and the means to provide her with what she needs and nurture her interests and imagination.

I am grateful for my husband. I am not very good at showing him, but I am grateful that he loves our child and works hard to be a good father to her.

I am grateful for my parents and siblings, with whom I can laugh and complain and enjoy every minute I am lucky enough to spend with them.

I am grateful for my friends, who support me and listen to me go on and on and inspire me to be a better person.

I am grateful to my colleagues, who amaze me with their hard work and dedication, humor and intelligence.

I am grateful to my country, who doesn't always have its priorities straight but still places human rights and freedom in the top ten and who elected a leader who might help us get out of this mess.

I am grateful.

The Phases of Facebook

1) Facebook? Never heard of it.

2) Oh, Facebook. Yeah, I'm too old for that.

3) Really? She's on Facebook? He's inviting me too? Okay, let me see what this is.

4) I guess I could just check it out. Looks kind of fun.

5) Hmm, who do I know on here . . .

6) Not really very many people, I'm too old for this.

7) Woah, there are tons of people I know on here!

8) How in the heck does anyone have 523 friends? I don't think I know 523 people by name.

9) Ooh, I've been Superpoked!

10) Why is my vision blurry? I feel so hungry. . . oh, I've been on Facebook for 4 hours. Hmm.

11) You gotta do Facebook, you're going to like it. No, you're not too old.

12) I can't believe he's never heard of Facebook.

Rest in Peace, David Crockett Prillaman

Some of my earliest memories of grandpa are of him at the head of the table in the breakfast room at the house he lived in when I was a child, (we called it "the point"). We ate most of the meals there, so I guess it was the breakfast room to differentiate it from the dining room, where the enormously long table stretched in front of the enormously wide picture window with its view of the lake.

Grandpa sat at the end of the table farthest from the kitchen, and he usually said grace when we sat for a family dinner. I sat on his right, close enough for him to reach over and pretend to grab my nose. He'd show it to me, his thumb wedged between his first two fingers, teasing me for a while before he “put it back.” He also really liked to try to catch my brother Dave and I with “inch me and pinch me were walking on a dock . . . .“ I find I use all of these now with Adelaide.

When I was little and even on a few visits in my 20's and 30's, Grandpa and I were co-conspirators in getting Grandma to cook us our favorite supper, her fabulous mac and cheese. My mouth still waters picturing him cutting into that crusty top with the big serving spoon. I would watch carefully, hoping to get a big serving with lots of the big cheese globs. I also remember how pleased he was when it was finally the day for “b and e,” his favorite breafast of bacon and eggs, which he was only served once a week. He got bumped up to twice a week some time in his 80's, I think. Grandpa was also always good for a trip to the DQ after supper. He never minded if you drank one of his cokes, and he used the whiskey glass I gave him for Christmas one year for years and years, as long as he still drank his Tanqueray martini before supper.

I remember heading out on the pontoon boat with Grandpa at the wheel. It was a slow trip but I liked it better than zooming around on the neighbor's motorboat. I have a lot of memories of Grandpa on his riding tractor, mowing the huge amount of lawn or plowing out the road down to Great-Grandpa Mayhew's cabin. He took excellent care of the point, including maintaining the mountain golf course for us grandkids to enjoy on our visits.

When I was nine we took a trip to Southern Pines and saw where Grandpa grew up. Dave and Grandpa and I spent an afternoon watching a house on a truck move slowly from one spot in town to another. Grandpa's sister Mary Jane was so pleased to have us all there for a visit, and clearly so proud of her brother and his family.

I think about the way the world changed in Grandpa's lifetime and am amazed at how much he saw. He overcame the obstacles of his childhood and got himself to Duke for college. He saw his future bride at the freshman welcome mixer and pursued her until she gave in. He worked his way up at Sears Roebuck until he was making an acceptable salary to marry her, $25 a week. He lived through World War Two, putting in his army service in Seattle, living in a room in a house up the hill from the port and eating donuts on the walk home from work. He bought the 2nd brand new car sold by the dealer in Seattle in 1945 when his service and the war were done, and drove it basically non-stop until he and Grandma were back home in Minneapolis.Grandpa continued to serve others through his lifetime, working with elderly people to help them on their taxes. He was practical and smart when it came to finances, and always gave generously to his kids and grandkids on birthdays and holidays. He wasn't prideful, and in fact made decisions that might have been impossible for some of his peers, like working as a caddy to continue golfing rather than staying with the country club. He planned ahead, and thought things through, and considered the needs of others before himself.Grandpa was always very proud of his family. We knew it when we were young, not so much through his words but by his actions. He liked to take us to dinner at the country club and show us off to his friends there. In his later years, grace always included the words “and thank you for our family,” with tears and apologies. It's normal with age for people to lose some of their filters and say what is really on their minds, and what was really on his mind was love and gratitude for his family. How proud I feel to be his granddaughter, knowing that underneath whatever exterior he held to the world lay pride and love. I saw his pride when Joanne and Claire came in the room, in his smile and the questions he asked Claire about her school, her job, where she was living. I saw it when Henry and Annaliese and Lucy came in, showing him the latest pictures of their adventures and talking about the life they built in Northfield. I heard about it when Dave flew in for a visit, how pleased they were to see him and thankful he made the trip. I saw it when Paige and Joanne and Lucy came and helped and spent time helping him through the changes and moves that came in the last few years. And I saw it when I came and brought my daughter, his great grandchild, by the way he interacted with her, and wore her necklaces that she made for him, accepted her rainbow tattoos on his arms and glitter gems on his fingernails. He was so proud of all of us, and so grateful.

President-Elect Barack Obama!

Election Day

We voted last week for our "peace hero."

Ask your doctor if it's right for you!

Do you suffer from pre-election day jitters? Restless leg syndrome flaring up on your way to the polls? Citizens everywhere are turning to "E.V.T. (Early Voting Today)" for their election-related symptoms. "E.V.T." can greatly enhance your quality of life during these anxious times.Side effects may include but are not limited to: dry mouth, insomnia, irrational fears (such as lost ballotaphobia), touchscreenitits, distractibility, irritable bowels, headache, blurred vision, cramping, hot flashes, nausea, pain, swelling, or redness at the election site, sleep problems, tiredness, upper respiratory tract infection, rash, hives, itching, difficulty breathing, tightness in the chest, lightheadedness, fainting, change in heart rate, cough, fainting, fever, frequently needing to go to the bathroom, shortness of breath, stomach pain, swelling of the hands, legs, or feet, unusual tiredness, and dizziness.

Joy

Halloween excitement and anticipation finally fulfilled! A quick look at heading out for trick-or-treating.

Tricks for Treats

We have managed to avoid candy for the most part for our now 4 and 1/2 year old. She has had a very occasional something at a party or other event where it would have been a big fuss to say no, but for the most part she doesn't eat much sugar and when she does it is in things that are real food.

This year, however, she is very determined to go trick-or-treating. I'm not even sure she knows exactly what it is, but her friends have probably filled her in on the glorious details. I've actually been very impressed at her creativity and planning for the holiday. We went to the fabric store a few weeks ago and picked up some supplies, and while I had intended to do some very simple costume creating, Adelaide actually commandeered some fabric and created her own. Couple of leg holes, place for the head, flip it over the back and voila, Princess of the Unicorns. So I am feeling good about the majority of aspects of this holiday. We decorated her room, carved pumpkins, and have done lots and lots of creating.

But I still couldn't reconcile myself to the big bag of candy. I want this holiday to be fun because of all of the things we are doing beforehand, not because we are going to drop everything and load up on lots of things we work so hard to stay away from (myself included). We have given out prizes (playdo, glow sticks, small toys, etc.) to the kids who come to our door, but we can't count on that when we knock on our neighbor's doors on Friday.
I would rather not simply say "no" to trick-or-treating. Nor would I like to take away the treats once she has collected them. I think the lesson in that would be "mom doesn't let me" rather than "this isn't the best choice for my body." So I have devised a system to entice Adelaide to choose for herself. Enter, the prize list. I found lots of good stuff for the trick-or-treaters (playdo again, but also Halloween watches, whistles, spiders and glasses), and then I went for a few big-ticket ($2 and $3) items. I made a brochure (didn't want to explain what will happen to the items she doesn't choose, which is that she will likely get them, too, just doled out later) and Adelaide can use it to select which items she wants to trade her candy for. I am going to encourage her to just keep one or two pieces of candy to eat, and to use most of what she gets for things that will last a long time and provide her with more fun than a quick sugar hit.
I know that I won't be able to prevent all the candy, junk food, and other unhealthy things from being available to Adelaide, and being too controlling will likely backfire. But I do remain hopeful that by educating my daughter about healthy choices and providing her with support and guidance in how to make those choices, I can give her a foundation to draw on later when she is faced with all the temptation which we deal with almost everywhere we go.

Two Weeks' Notice

Dear U.S.A.,

I regret to inform you that I will be resigning from your country on Nov. 5, 2009, should you choose to elect the Republican Candidate for President of the United States of America (hereafter referred to as RCPUSA, [rec PUH sa]. I will no longer be able to live in a country capable of such crimes, given that I have served my term of Eight Long Years under Republican Rule. Please be aware that you can retain my services as citizen and public servant, simply by electing the most qualified and best candidate, Barack Obama, at the polls in November.

I urge you to consider the devastating economic impact which your organization could incur, should my resignation and those of others like me take place. In the event that 51% of the population is denied, as in the past, I believe that a mass exodus of the educated, tax-paying, socially conscious and charitable contributors will also resign, leaving your organization to cope with the reality of the RCPUSA's leadership and policies.

Until such time as the election is complete, and I hope also afterwards, I remain,
Sincerely, your citizen,

Christine A. Dunbar

Adelaide's Day with her Mom (Title by Adelaide)

Adelaide did not get enough sleep for the first few nights this week. Which meant that our first day home together, yesterday, was a series of negotiations, name-calling and diversions intended to distract a crabby 4 year-old from her own grumpiness. The end result was a day of parenting that I am actually quite proud of. We talked through how to express frustration, how to identify feelings and use words to inform others of them, and how to move on when things don't go your way. By the end of the day, Adelaide was telling me that she was disappointed about not going out to Pho for dinner, rather than telling me she will never eat Pho that I cook and she hates it (well, she did say that first, but was able to revise).We had our first longer bike ride together (the picture is from our test ride Sunday), in the rain and up some hills, and it was a success. Hard pedaling for me but Adelaide just needs another half inch or so until she can pedal too. We went to run some errands and Adelaide picked out a lovely matching set of jewelry for her and Princess Presto (who also came along for the bike ride).
All in all it was a good day, and I continue to discover areas for self-improvement via the things I am trying to teach my daughter. Wouldn't it be great if I could verbalize calmly about my feelings of anger and frustration, resolve my conflicts with others, and move on happily.

Spiced Harvest Soup

Tonight's dinner was a soup blended with delicata squash, pumpkin, and sweet potato, spiced with garlic, ginger, cumin and jalepeno. With a dash of Greek yogurt and cilantro, it was the perfect way to warm up.

Bad Hair Day?

Yesterday I had the luxury of a husband and child on an overnight outing together, so I treated myself to a haircut at the walk-in barbershop. I frequently consider getting a haircut and then decide it is not worth wasting my precious little free time to do it. Especially given how long it can take and how hit or miss the result can be.

I brought my book and didn't mind the wait, and when it was my turn I was greeted by a very friendly, older stylist named Liam. He was very thorough and asked me a lot of questions. Most of which I failed. No, I do not own a hairdryer. No, not getting one in the near future. No, I don't use "product" (though I have a few odds and ends cluttering up the bathroom). Yes, I brush my hair when it is wet. No, I am not willing to spend more time on my hair than I already do. I might have felt terrible about being such a styling slacker, but the curious thing was, Liam was also full of compliments about how healthy my hair is, and how shiny, how full and well- cared for. He would lift, snip, and rave. Then he would admonish me for using Pantene. Didn't I know that it contained wax, which will begin to build up on my hair? My luxurious, gorgeous hair that is so beautiful?

I liked Liam and liked the cut he gave me, but I am uncertain how to proceed. I doubt much will change (though I may try to avoid some of the dangerous, terrible sins I have been committing to my poor, defenseless hair), but I also wonder how my hair has possibly managed this level of radiance given my choices. I guess I should just be pleased that it has been cut and I can ignore it again for a few more months.

Princess Presto Beauty Belding

Adelaide is in a stuffed animal phase and has many "babies" that are in her care. Because many of them are also princesses, they have fairly complex names to keep them straight. Featured in this video are Rosabella and Princess Presto.

Time for a trim

Warming up the set

When I was a kid, I liked having the job of "warming up the set." It may have been a hold-over from when my parents were young, and the television actually took a long time to have sound and picture. I think ours might have taken a short while to be ready, but it was more about the ritual of sitting down together to watch something special. This was intentional television viewing, something I still try to practice today. As in, I am turning on the television to watch something I have previously selected and consider entertaining enough to be worth my time. Rather than something I sometimes do but am never satisfied by, which is decide that I am bored and flip on the set hoping to find something to cure that boredom.

It's a little early now, but I have that "warm up the set" warm fuzzy feeling about tonight's debate. It's mostly Schadenfreude, I must admit, as I expect Palin to be pretty much of a total failure. I have more of a "Saturday Night Live" feeling about this debate than a "NewsHour" one. But in any case, it is fun to have an excited anticipation building today in my household.

W.W.J.D.

For some reason, Yahoo thinks I'm desperately wanting to find Christian singles. The Christian fish sits on the sidebar above my inbox and saved mail folders like another navigation tool often enough that I don't really even notice it. Interestingly, Yahoo is able to determine that when the Christian dating service emails me, it is actually spam. So my inbox is not cluttered with Christian dating service emails, but were I to accidentally click above the link for my inbox, I could answer the burning question: Who Would Jesus Date.

As I started writing this post, I went to my email to check for the fish. Not there right now, it's a video ad instead. I guess Netflix has to have a turn at this lonely single gal, if Christ isn't getting called upon. Is it either/or? Looking for Christian love, or a hot flick? Why does Yahoo think I am single? If I were, I might actually go out instead of sitting home with Netflix.

Now I'll check my spam mailbox. Bingo, a Christian dating email. Dare I open it? I usually just delete everything from spam, especially since that time a few years ago when several people I knew at work (in the Elementary School!) had some very frightening and unpleasant, un-Christian photographs arrive in their email. Here goes -- oh, some images are blocked? Are these the naughty Christians? But Yahoo gives me an option to view the images. Now, the real dilemna -- what would Yahoo block that would also be arriving from a Christian Dating Service . . . I can't do it. I fear the certain fire and brimstone (and way more spam).

How convenient, now I can get Lasik surgery to more clearly see my Netflix movies and the Christian naughty spam pictures (the link above my inbox has cycled through to an eye surgery advertisement).

So, as far as my email host is concerned, I am single, repressed, lonely, old and have failing vision. I am also spending a little too much time interpreting the layout and contents of my email. Time to call a friend to come over and not hold hands while we watch "Fireproof" sitting a foot or two away from the screen.

How does your garden grow?

With hope and hard work and donations and equality and opportunity -- here's hoping for a bumper crop in November (and January, 2009!).

Trading Up

I have long been coveting a skill or job where doing “trades” was a possibility. I remember back to my mid-twenties when I lived with a massage therapist, and she and all of her massage therapist friends were trading massage for acupuncture, meals, wine, and lots of other things. I wanted in on that action. I do probably possess skills which someone would want in trade, but up until now I have not had the opportunity to barter them for services I want. I have taken on extra work for extra pay, and then used the money to buy massage, but somehow the whole cash-less exchange seemed like a better deal.

Now it looks like my yoga teacher and I are in a position to barter some speech therapy services for some babysitting and yoga sessions. I am so happy to be in a position to help her out, because she has been helping my life tremendously for years now, with her awesome teaching. I would not have been able to cope with work, parenthood and all the stresses in my life if I hadn't had her help and influence on my yoga practice. So the fact that I can do something to help her family, and continue to work with her help on my yoga, is even better than the trades I so coveted in the past.

Seafood stew and Rainbow potato gratin

I have been cooking several dishes on Saturdays and Sundays to have healthy lunches and quick re-heats for dinners during our busy week. This week's menu will include seafood stew, which I had for lunch today (onion, garlic, cumin, smoked paprika, seafood seasoning blend, carrots, celery, orange pepper, 4 kinds of heirloom tomatoes, crab and mussels, with some quark to top it off), and rainbow potato gratin (the heirloom spuds pictured yesterday, sliced thinly and layered with carmelized onions, milk, seasonings and quark and baked all afternoon).

Spud Update

We have been enjoying harvesting our potatoes on an as-needed basis, but after a week of rain and colder weather I decided to take advantage of a sunny afternoon today and dig up the remaining 25 pounds or so of spuds. I am hoping to store some for winter eating, but after having a mishap (left some out to cure, and now they are green after being left out in the rain) I am thinking we may simply continue to share the harvest with our friends and neighbors and eat them all this fall. Today was exciting because I uncovered some varieties we have not yet eaten. Tomorrow's dinner: rainbow potato gratin.
All in all, this was an incredibly satisfying gardening experience. Low on labor, high on yield, and kid-friendly for all the steps of the way. Especially the eating!

Family Portrait

Goodnight Sun

I have been trying in vain to find a picture of the sunset yesterday which I was lucky enough to see as I headed home after yoga. The sun was an amazing red, and in the exact right place on the horizon to appear much, much larger than usual. This was just like those rare full moons when the sky is clear and the moon is low and wide, but I can't ever recall seeing the sun look like this. It was hard to keep from staring at it, though I'm glad I managed as I would likely still being seeing the sun look like that, and the recollection would not be as pleasant.

By the time I was home, the sun had sunk below Phinney Ridge and was out of sight, too late to grab the camera. I'm afraid after today's chilly gray weather it may have been giving us a last gasp, not to be seen again until February, when we have our typical week or so of false summer. But this morning I was pretty happy to have a second cup of coffee, pull on the warm pj bottoms and slow down for at least a little while. I think I was mostly thrilled at sleeping until the luxurious hour of 6:00 a.m., and excited at the prospect that winter might bring a slightly more sane wake-up time for my four year old. Now if I can just get the cats on Tylenol P.M. or something, I will be in great shape.

Go See Willy!

I have a piece of advice for you, no matter what your taste in music, your feelings about going out to see live music, your geographic location: when Willy Porter plays a show within a 100 mile radius of you, GO SEE HIM. I can still remember the first time I saw him play, 20 years ago on the patio of the Union in Madison, Wisconsin. It was 1988, and I was a freshman in college, and I was absolutely blown away. Not only is his guitar-playing out of this world, but also his songwriting, singing, and stage presence are over the top good. Every time I have seen him play, he seems to put an incredible amount of effort into the performance. He sweats, he sways, he gets red in the face and tears out his heart and serves it up on his magical voice. Searching for his music on You Tube, I discovered a video of Willy performing at an elementary school. The man was rockin', having fun, and giving his all. This man is a true blood musician, and he always has a shy grin and a kind of gee, shucks "thanks guys" when the thunderous applause salutes his efforts. His songs are dense with emotion and well-crafted metaphor, and if you close your eyes it seems hard to believe you are hearing just one man with two hands and one guitar.

His shows are very entertaining, too. He has a fresh anecdote or joke between every song, and he usually does an improv bit where he writes a song based on random words and ideas called out by the audience.

Please, don't miss Willy. Get in your car, drive to where he is, and prepare to be blown away.

Remembering

My life has changed in many ways since the eventful and horrible day that we call 9-11. I remember feeling anxious for a friend whose baby was due in a few months, feeling like we were going through a doorway away from a world to which we could never return. That baby is now a first-grade boy, with a little sister. He has read all of the Harry Potter books that his parents would allow (the later ones will have to wait until he's older).

I remember feeling a desperate need to invoke some sort of emergency clause to allow Bill Clinton to step back in as president. That we were seriously f'd with a deer in the headlights, idiot president and commander in chief. I still feel the part about being f'd with the idiot leader but now he's a lame duck deer in the headlights. And I have tremendous hope for the future of this country with the upcoming election.

I remember riding my bike to work with my walkman radio tuned to NPR, barely able to breathe or see because each new piece of news left me sobbing, gasping, crying. I did not see the images on the news that morning, or for many days, because the audio alone was so incredibly painful, I could not bear to see what was being aired over, and over, and over. Now I can view the footage without coming apart. Barely.

I remember thinking that it was so unfair to my friend's soon to arrive baby, to all the babies and children yet to come, that we lived in a world where people could dream of such horror on such a scale, plan it, and execute it successfully. Now I have a four year old child who tells me over dinner that she is going to be a peace hero like Martin Luther King.

Many things have changed for me in seven years, but I believe my lifetime will pass with this day always being a day for reflection, for holding to hope while sorrow takes hold, and for striving to nurture the peace hero in myself and all those around me.

Best Buy What We Say

I have to admit, I have been coveting my friends' TiVos (TiVoes? TiVi?) for a while now. As someone who enjoys very selective tv viewing, I like the idea that you can filter out all the noise and stockpile things you'd like to watch for when you have time to watch them. Pausing live tv? Um, can anyone say miracle? Can I get a witness?

Yet, there were some reasons not to do it. First, before I had cable, there was no point. I could pretty much only get reception on two channels so there wasn't a lot to be stocking up on. Once we had (barebones) cable, I couldn't really see the monthly fee plus rental plus whatever other surcharges when my VCR pretty much had it covered. Additionally, I was a little frightened by an incident which occurred when speaking to my dad on the phone. There was a click and a dialing noise on the line, to which he nonchalantly replied, "oh, that's just TiVO checking something." Finding movies for me which I might like? Cool. Using my phone to communicate with central TiVo Big Brother? Maybe not.

Then, sometime last year, someone at work was talking about their DVR. As in, VCR, but digital (=pause live tv, etc.). The TiVo without the spyware. This sounded like the solution for me.

Last week, in a fit of excitement over fall tv season (yes, it's sad, but it is my consolation prize for heading back to work, rain, and darkness before dinner), I decided that I was ready. DVR, I welcome thee. I looked online to get a sense of my choices, and was somewhat confused by what was out there. As is often the case, the reviews and customer comments were much more helpful than the information provided by the manufacturers of the products. So I learned about some pitfalls to avoid, and some aspects of the technology of which I was unaware. Still, I decided that a trip to an electronics store to look at the actual models side by side and speak to a salesperson would be a smart move. So, I headed to a store specializing in such products which shall remain unnamed (insert cough "Best Buy" cough). I was not thrilled to be heading there, as I had a bad experience in a previous television related purchase (no actual items in stock and no clear idea as to a timeline for their availabilty). But, as I said, side by side, salesperson . . . I was going for research, mainly.

It turned out to be a very enlightening trip. Best Buy's (oops, I mean unnamed store) DVR section consisted of TiVo, TiVo, and TiVo. Oh, and something else for Direct TV and Satellite customers (might have been TiVo, not sure since I was in the archaic "cable" and "antenna" section). Side by side, not a lot to be learned besides Monopoly is more than just a game. So, I tried the salesperson. He showed me to . . . the TiVo wall of fame. I clarified, no, a DVR, stand-alone, no TiVo. He admitted that he had one of those, but his was eight years old, pre-TiVo domination. He claimed they aren't made anymore, aren't sold. I clarified that they were indeed still made and sold, just not here. Then he clarified they were not available without some digging, not to be found and just bought in a store. So I asked where people were digging for them. He leaned in and muttered "the internet," then glanced over his shoulder to see if a pink slip was on its way to him. Or the TiVo police.

Well, I was not buying it (pun accidental). One of the manufacturers' websites had listed Target as a retailer of their product, and while I had called my nearest Target and found that they did not have it in stock or have a place where it would eventually be stocked, I thought there might be some other options there. Happily for me, Target was just an escalator ride away. And, lo and behold: DVRs. For Sale. In a Store.

I am pleased with my new set-up, and anticipate some added benefits of recording my home video more quickly and easily to DVD format, among other features. But I suppose I had best not gloat on the web, because, we all know, Big Brother TiVo is watching.

Digging for gold

Until today we've been harvesting potatoes on an as-needed basis. We head out with our dirty garden shoes on, with or without our gloves, and find a plant that is close to done or all done. We've been digging up supper, or a gift for a friend, or some for a soup for later. We seem to have an unending supply, and we haven't been very thorough or careful thus far.

According to my planting and harvesting guide, the baby potatoes are best eaten the day they are dug. For potatoes that are to be stored and eaten months later, the best practice is to dig them, then allow them to cure in the field for 2 or 3 days. So this afternoon we started the process of harvesting some of the potatoes which we will store and eat this fall and winter. We moved from plant to plant, brushing off loose and not-so-loose dirt, and piling our booty in the dirt behind us.

We have probably dug up about a third of the potatoes so far. I think we have enough time to wait to harvest the rest, since we aren't in danger of frost too soon. The issue here is more likely to be heavy rain. I think we'll want to have most of them dug by the end of the month, and we may have to cure them in the garage so they won't get rained on. I ended up putting today's haul in a container because I was worried about animals. Mostly the neighborhood cats, who have been using patch as a litter box here and there. Would hate to come back to the pile and find some cat had marked it as theirs.

The potatoes have been a very fun and easy experiment. I highly recommend it for its high yield in delicious food, for very little investment of time and effort.

Update from the RNC

Dressing Down

This morning when I dropped off my daughter at her school, I got some compliments on my outfit. The teachers there could tell that it was back to work for real for me today (as opposed to off to the gym, or off to work but alone in my office). But one comment hit me the wrong way. A teacher that I really like told me I had the “perfect teacher outfit.”

I shouldn't be insulted. I shouldn't really even care what someone says about my clothes, because in general I don't really care very much about clothes. Which is probably apparent give the way I typically dress. But, today, I cared. I chose carefully, and felt satisfied with the result. Over the summer I went through my closet and weeded out items which I don't wear. Some didn't fit, some just didn't work, some were alarmingly old and had gotten lost in the mess. So, now my closet is actually a place I can find what I am looking for. Very satisfying.

I also decided to upgrade a little bit in terms of what kinds of clothes I might wear to work. Not really in price, but rather I thought I might not wear jeans every single day. So I went through my skirts and dresses and dress pants and found some things I can wear to look a little more like I made an effort.

Today's outfit was chosen because it is the first day of school, among other reasons. I wanted to look nice, and show a little effort. To me, “perfect teacher outfit” does not match what I had in mind. It calls to mind long jean skirts and sweaters that tell a story. Glasses on a chain and jewelry in the shape of zoo animals. Most of the teachers I work with are much better dressed than I am, and these images I am describing are things I don't actually see very often. But when you see them, they scream out “teacher outfit.”

At the end of the day, I am happy with what I chose. I felt comfortable but not too casual, and it worked for what I wanted. I just have to remind myself that ultimately I just don't care enough for clothing choices to matter. Even when I do step out and try to care a little bit.

Phone book, anyone?

http://www.yellowpagesgoesgreen.org/
We seem to get a different or new phone book dumped off at our home every two to three months. I find it unnecessary and annoying, and have gone as far as to run out the door looking for the person who delivered it to try to give it back. It is so wasteful to print all these paper books that I didn't ask for and do not want. Most of them just end up in the recycling bin, or in a pile in my basement.

I am pleased to say I am not alone in feeling this way, and there may be a solution. I just signed up today, so I have yet to see whether or not they will be successful, but there is a group trying to stem the tide of trees felled in the name of paper phone books. Sign up here: http://www.yellowpagesgoesgreen.org/

Rules for Attending the State Fair

Rule #1. Stick your head in every sign with a head-sized hole. Insist on being documented with a photograph.






















Rule #2. Ogle the baby animals.
Risk loss of fingers to touch cute bunnies.
Contemplate, but resist urge to take home cute baby bunnies.












Rule #3. Only consume items with
a 30% butter content or greater,
or which have been deep-fried.
Or both.






Rule #4. Experience farm animals on a new scale. As in, these are big!




Rule #5. Learn about where something comes from. See the transformation of animal into product (don't worry, you won't see it become meat.
They don't let you see that, 'cause you might change your mind about things.).

















Rule #6. Pay 5 dollars for 3 tries at a toy worth 2 cents. Lose.
Pay 10 dollars for 7 tries at a toy worth 2 dollars. Lose.
Pay 3 dollars to compete against others whacking at pop-up plastic moles to win a prize worth 1 dollar. Lose to smug man who has no children but apparently collects tacky fairground prizes for his swingin' bachelor pad.
Give your child 5 dollars for unlimited tries at a prize you would pay 5 dollars not to have to bring home. After 22 short tries, win!

Rule #7. Have a meaningful conversation on the way home to convey your love and appreciation for your family with whom you experienced these delights. See example, below:

A: When I am a grown-up, what will I do with my snuggly toys?

Me: Well, you might give them to your children.

A: No, I want to keep them for me. I don't want to share them.

Me: They are yours, honey. You can choose what you do with them.

A: I choose to keep them until I die. Then I will give them to someone.

Me: Mm.

A: Mom, who is going to die first, you or me?

Me: Well, it probably will be me, because I am a lot older than you. But neither of us is going to die for a long time. You will probably be a grandma and I will be a great-grandma before I die. In a long, long time from now.

A: Mom, I want to live in our house when I'm a grown-up.

Me: That would be nice. Do you want me to live with you, or do you want to live there by yourself?

A: I want you to live there with me. But I am still going to marry.

Me: So I would live there with you and your husband?

A: Yeah. Will you always live with me?

Me: I will live with you as long as you want me to.

A: I want you to live with me forever.

Me, in my head: I want to remember that you said that to me forever.