Chi-town

The spring was a very difficult time for me. My amazing and beloved grandma's steep illness and death in May brought one of the most difficult school year's I've ever experienced to a halting and bitter close. I needed the summer to regroup and recoup. I wasn't at all sure that I would be teaching this fall, or at least, I wasn't at all sure it would be at this school, or in this district. It was an impossible situation, and I certainly didn't see this fall coming together any better than the way the spring ended.

It would be nearly impossible to explain the violence exhibited by a great portion of my students last school year. Their stories are not my stories to tell; let me just state emphatically that the kind of chaotic lives that result in 8 year olds who attack adults on campus, stand on kids' necks and try to stab them with a ruler, try to hang themselves in a garage, respond to every interaction with anger and physical aggression....it's not something I wish on anyone, let alone little kids who are still forming. You expect a handful of "behavior problems" in any class of 33. But this? This was not that. Promise. I'm not prone to hyperbole when it comes to children, either. I don't exaggerate or feel sorry for myself; I'm not out to win the Pity Olympics for What I Had To Deal With This Year. I say it with total humility and great sadness, that I don't know how much of a positive impact I was able to have, overall, when I was so worn down and so overwhelmed by the day-to-dayness of those four walls.

All that to say! I tiptoed into this summer and had several great adventures and many quiet days. I can't share them all here, of course, but I few stand out in my mind. Today's is an awesome adventure in Chicago during the last week of June. I went for work as a consultant for the non-profit organization that I work with that works with teachers on improving math instruction. I worked with an amazing group of about 80 K-8 teachers, administrators, and coaches. And I worked with one of my favorite colleagues.

It was my first visit to Chicago, and I totally and completely fell in love. I've not spent much time at all in the midwest, to be honest. Drove through it twice in my life for cross-country trips. Flew over to get to New York and the East Coast. But really? The Rockies to the Appalachians....kind of a mystery to me. Overall impression: incredibly friendly people, insane amounts of steakhouses, and Chicago is a beautiful, fun city.

I'm so spoiled to be from San Francisco, which I happen to think (with some bias) is the most beautiful, vibrant, exciting, and fun city in the country. But I have to say, Chicago was amazing. I spent two days there by myself after the rest of my colleagues went home (long story) and I fell in love.

You better believe I was going to Wrigley, no matter what! But, unbelievably, the Giants

were on a roadtrip to play the Cubbies that week! So Wednesday found us down in

Wrigley Town. It was everything you've heard, and more. It was so rowdy, and cozy, and amazing.

A "W" would have been better, I won't lie, but we got to hear the Cubbie's Song and yes,

I admit, we were humming right along on the way out. : )

 The architectural river tour is amazing. HIGHLY recommend if you get down out that way.

The Willis Tower used to the Sear Tower. There are new observation decks made completely of glass, floor, walls, ceiling. It was an amazing experience to walk out "into thin air" and hover over

downtown Chicago. Even more amazing to watch people freak out about it. Holy cow. Watching grown men and women crawl on the glass floors of the balconies? Surreal.

 I'm not a shopper (understatement) but I walked all the way down Michigan Avenue, just for people

watching purposes, and ended up down at Grant Park, the Art Institute museum, and the outdoor festival of Taste, where I sweated it out with thousands of my closest strangers, and ate ice cream

and spinach stuffed pizza. Not a bad way to spend an afternoon!

 The river that runs through the city. It's so charming there!

 I stopped to knit under The Bean in Memorial Park.

It's possible that my fabulous two days in Chicago was more attributable to the quiet of my hotel room, (where I read, soaked in a hot tub, and generally thought deep thoughts), or to the quiet dinners at Xoco and Luxe and the Greek food and the deep dish pizzas....

Maybe, afterall, I just needed a few days where I was "Mia" instead of "mama" or "maestra". A nice little palette cleanser to the end of the school year!

That's A Lot of Sage

After this four day week is a three day week and then my summer begins.  I'm not going to lie to you: I am ready. Oh, I know, after the first couple of weeks, I'll miss my students, I'll miss the creative aspects of designing lessons and trying to figure out what each little squirrel needs just right now, but let me just state:  I'm looking forward to missing it.  That is all

I was thinking today, about all the people who have died in military service to the United States (as it is Memorial Day) so I decided to do an internet search. I found this sobering tally right off the top, and it really set the mood for my "three day weekend".  I mean....I sort of can't comprehend, on the one hand, how many precious lives have been lost (how many families have ached for their loved ones?) and on the other hand, I can't bring myself to accept, on face value, that this is a wholly inclusive total.

We took advantage of our three day weekend by doing some long-needed chores around the house.  Here, Erik "fixed" the dead bolt lock on our front door.  Ahem.

And I even managed to clean this front window, which the pup has taken to rubbing her nose on while pacing back and forth, awaiting our return any time we leave the house.  I mean. Gross.

It's better now : ). I can see out it now.  Oh, except for the two huge cracks that are spiderwebbing across the top of the window.  I mean, we're just keeping it classy around here, really.

I also went into a bit of maintenance mode in the garden, even this early in the season there is so much yummy work that needs to be done!

Complex tasks like caging the tomato plants. A chore made even better by adorable fuschia, yellow,  and orange cages. Yay! Oh, but that sage plant is out of control.  See it there, in the background?

A quick shearing and I had cleared enough space to stake my adorable bean plant experiment.  Oh, they're little arms, forever reaching to hug something....I love you, bean plants!

Which left me with some newly harvested sage.  Quite a bit of it, in fact! My immediate response was, of course, to do a quick internet search.  Now I have another (can't really call this a) chore I can't wait to try.

What did people do, before the internets?????

Worst Week Ever?

Last week, somewhere around Monday (which I thought was Thursday) and then again on Thursday (which I thought was Tuesday), I had the thought that this might be the worst week ever.  Busy days of baseball and homemaking and loving my boys, along with the first glimpses of Spring (I love you Spring!!!) all buried under a ridiculous week at work filled with deadlines and chaotic families and exhausting chidren.....I was ready to call it the worst week ever and crawl into bed for the weekend.

I just wasn't prepared for the news that our brothers and sisters in Japan were hit with an earthquake and a tsunami.  Already emotionally and physically exhausted, their suffering is so hard to witness. 

And now we wait....how can we help?  where do we (pitifully) send our money and give our blood, which feels like the only things we can do right now? And now we wait...when will the reactors be stabilized? When will the survivors be reunited?

I have to tell you.  I greet this week with a renewed sense of wonder at all the "problems" that make up what I had been secretly referring to as "the worst week ever".  Problems like a warm place to sleep, a family to cuddle with, a job that I love (despite weeks like these), and access to all the food and fresh water I could ever need or want for. 

I am grateful and I am thankful and I am waiting.  Taking a deep breath, I'm ready for this week.  Kind of.  And this doesn't mean I'll stop complaining, either.  Just that I'll know, when I'm doing it, that I am an ass.

At Night...

 At night, I've been practicing the 'piano' and crawling into bed with a little crochet and a good a ton of good books**.  I picked up the acoustic guitar around Christmas, and Erik showed me a few chords.  I have such short little stubby fingers though, that playing was a bit painful.  I could either strum or place my fingers, but doing both at the same time was an exercise in futility.  I had just decided that learning guitar was for the young, who will play for hours every day, having nothing better to do with themselves, when I remembered that we also have an old-school keyboard and a "beginning piano for adults" study book, and I think I may have found my calling.

I play for 20 or so minutes every night, and it is too too too much fun!  I've taught myself to read music (it's a cinch!) and I can now regal you with rockin' renditions of Down In the Valley, Clementine, When the Saints Go Marching In, Lavender's Blue, and Merrily We Roll Along (in my mind, "Mary Had a Little Lamb").  Somewhat more laborious, due to the out-of-middle-c finger positioning, I have finally also mastered "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow".  

I'm available for your bar mitzvahs and weddings!

** I'm totally the kind of person who reads about 10 books at the same time.  When I was in college, my friend Ron asked me, in total seriousness, how many books I've read in my lifetime.  I had never contemplated such a thing, but the math-geek in me quickly flipped through some averages and statistics, and I was past my elementary school days (when I would spend the summers devouring a "chapter book" a day, my favorites being Charlotte's Web, Island of the Blue Dolphins, and Tuck Everlasting) and through the middle school years (when I met Jack London and Black Beauty and went down a rabbit hole with Lauara Ingalls Wilder) and then high school where honors English brought me Hemingway, Catcher in the Rye, To Kill a Mockingbird, a Vonnegut spree, and I also read everything Stephen King wrote, espionage thrillers, the entire Planet of the Apes (original series) and anything else I could get my hands on...often going late into the wee hours of every night, unable to stop reading.  I was just beginning to mentally catalog my college textbooks, plus I was heavily into biographies between 1988 and 1994, when my friend Ron asked me "if I thought it was more than 10 books".  

And then I died.  

"No, no, I mean, I know you've had to read books, like for school and stuff, but do you think you've read more than ten books for just, like, fun?"  It had never occurred to me that there were people in the world who could literally list every book they had ever read.  It turns out, there are a lot of people like that...my dad is probably one of them!  Not counting maps and travel guides, I bet he hasn't read more than 20 books for pleasure since graduating from high school!  That would be unlike my mother and me.  I definitely get my love of WORDS from my mom, and she got it from her mom before that.  (Tommy, I'm happy to report...a nose-in-a-book kind of fellow.  The legacy lives on! :)

On my nightstand:

Painted House by John Grisham

Hideaway by Dean Koontz

Still Alice by Lisa Genova (recommended!  deeply emotional book, and so wonderful!)

The New Starting With Bees published by the A.I. Root Company

Little Bee by Chris Cleave (oops, this one is done!)

Bel Canto by Ann Patchette (surprisingly funny for a terrorist/hostage plot line...)

Lies My Teacher Told Me by James Loewen

The Four-Shaft Loom by Anne Field

The Friday Night Knitting Club by Kate Jacobs

Holidays on Ice by David Sedaris

On Beauty by Zadie Smith (re-reading, very worthwhile)

Mirror Mirror by Gregory Maguire (I think these re-imaginings of classic fairy tales are just fascinating!)

And you?  What exactly are you reading these days?  What instrument are you practicing?  Did you learn as an adult, as I am doing, or were you a child prodigy?

Blessings

I paid for somebody's groceries today.  It wasn't a big haul, but it included cheese, chocolate, aspirin, and a forty.  Oh, I'm sure there are people who would have drawn the charity line somewhere before hitting the forty ounce bottle of beer, but I'm not judge-y. 

The woman was of course shocked that a total stranger was going to pay $22 for her groceries, and the cashier told her, simply, "I guess it's you're lucky day."  The woman quietly said, "It's not luck.  It's a blessing.  That's what it is.  A blessing." 

This woman, who had her son with her, made all the noises you'd expect in such a situation (oh, no, you don't want to do that....you're not serious?....I couldn't....etc.) but I held my money to the cashier** and maintained eye contact with the woman.  How else do you let somebody know you're serious?  I guess I could have smiled, but I wasn't too worried about that.  I've been told I have a friendly face. 

**  I once dated a boy in college who told me that one of the things he liked most about me was that I 'showed my money'.  I'm pretty sure he was translating from his primary language (Spanish) (and I'm pretty sure he forgot about my boobs, because hi, really, you're favorite thing about me?) but he told me a funny story that goes with it, about this woman he took out a few times, she'd always say, "Do you want me to pay for half?" but she'd clutch her purse like it was Fort Knox when she asked.  For the record, he never once took me up on my offer to pay, but he really appreciated the fact that, by 'showing my money' when I offered it, he knew I was serious about being willing to do that. 

Anyway, she left and I paid for my own items.  When I was loading my stuff into the car, she pulled up behind me and both she and her son waved wildly and grinned like crazy.  "God bless you, ma'am!  You were such a blessing to me!"  Oh, it was so sweet and cute!

Most of the people who know me know that I don't believe in God.  Well, more specifically, I don't believe in any gods.  haha!  Atheist humor is funny!  Oh, I kid.  I know it can be upsetting when somebody flat out tells you that they don't believe.  But when they came up next to me, and they were brimming with such goodwill and joy, I have to say, I was very grateful in that moment that I'm such a friendly atheist.  Because, as upsetting as my non-belief can be, your beliefs don't bother me at all.  And I was so happy for her.  And yes, I truly did feel blessed!  :)

Darn It

I found out a couple of weeks ago that I've been ALL WRONG when I put TWO SPACES after a period when I type. Did you know this? It is how I learned to type, from Mr. Moyer, at my high school during senior year. It's how I've always typed.

I have written three sentences in the above paragraph; my thumb automatically tap-tapped the space bar after each period, and I then pressed BACKSPACE once to adjust it. Just happened again. And again.

What are you doing, currently or in the future? (Just did it again.) Have you always been a single spacer, or are you trying to retrain yourself, or do you not care at all?

Also on my mind lately:  the number of times I've read "I hope he's okay" when referencing Steve Jobs stepping down from Apple for "medical reasons". That would be:  zero times. I've heard that zero times. I've heard lots about stock prices and the future of gadgets as we know it, and operations flow charts, and all kinds of things that I guess people think are very important, but I've yet to read a single "here's to a speedy recovery, Steve". (Just did it again.) (aaannndddd....just went back and edited out an additional 5 double spaces. People, please schedule an intervention.)

Growth Spurts

Posting has been light, I realize, but look at this mug!  So much cuteness, I'm telling you.

I'm working on a couple of big projects, that I'm rather liking, and that's taking up some of my time (I'll share soon, though!) and there's another project, called my kids that's also brewing.  We seem to be hitting some growing pains around here.  It happens, but this one seems particularly thorny! 

Tommy seems to be moving from Little Boy to Official Tween, and the emotional ups and downs have really taken us by surprise.  Erik and I have been (more than at any other time in our parenting 'careers') spending a lot of time trying to figure out what exactly he needs to make this transition.  I mean, he's making it, like it or not, but we'd sure love to smooth things out for all concerned.  And so far...that ain't happening.  We're interested in your thoughts on this, by the way, no suggestion is too crazy.

So, I'll be here.  Working on my projects, paying closest attention to My Boys, trying to stay warm, and I'll see ya in a few days. xoxo

A Story About a Boy; A Picture of a Skirt

This week, I feel like my Tommy really needed me, and I'm so relieved to say I didn't let him down.  So often, I don't realize until after the fact that he needed something from me.  This time, despite the fact that I'm buried at work this week, I managed to do just the right things at just the right time, and he (we both) really needed that.

Tommy goes to a Montessori school, which was not actually an easy decision for me to make.  I don't believe in 'one size fits all' education, so in many ways, the Montessori philosophy is well-suited to us.  But finding just the right fit for your own kid is a very humbling experience.  (Speaking as somebody who has confidently advised other parents on how to handle their children's educational needs.  Ahem.)  Tommy is intellectually very independent, but quite needy emotionally.   The jury is still out on whether or not both of those needs are being met.  It's a tricky combination, so there are days when everything is working, and then there are other days when things are just 'off' for him.  (PS:  I don't judge you, School; there are plenty of days when I'm fairly certain we aren't hitting the mark either.)

His dad encouraged and guided the first project, and I was on call for the second.  Last night, I really needed to get ready for my parent conferences and report cards this week, prep for my students, I had a million and one chores that still aren't done....oh, you get it.

But instead, I gave Tommy my full attention.  It was the right choice. It was exactly what I really needed to do, and all that other stuff worked out just fine.   It's an exhausting kind of energy, too, because it would be easier and faster for me to just do the dang thing, but that serves nobody, so my actual job was to sit quietly, watch him work, answer his questions (with questions; "How do you think it should go?"), and generally keep the focus on and the motivation up. 

That's two good moves for us and the week's not even over!  Not that I'm keeping score.  *Cough*.

And here's that picture of a skirt!  Haha!  It has nothing to do with anything, except I wrote about buying the embroidered skirt at the thrift, and it was laying on the bed, so I snapped a quick pic of it when I was walking by.  Obviously, I like to keep things exciting around here.

Behind the Scenes

We've been very busy at corporate headquarters, sorting out some technical difficulties.

Been Busy

I am thoroughly committed to finishing some projects for the holidays.  I like to give (and get, if you're wondering! ;) handmade presents.  But I've never successfully pulled off much of a handmade coup at this time of year; mostly because the projects are too ambitious, combined with I start them too late.

This year, through a combination of starting in October and working on some projects I never finished LAST year, I am quite on track for my most successful (and no doubt still sorely lacking) Christmas exchange.

For example, once the materials have been prepared (I wrote about this here), it was a snap to whip up two new rag rugs in just a few evenings.

 It's so hard to photograph these for scale.  I think this could be any size based on the picture!  Is it a placemat?  Or a rug? 
 

Here's the Wii remote for scale purposes.  I don't know.  Does this really help?

 

Forget it.  Here, let me just hop on it.  It's a good size to stand on in front of the stove or the sink, I do think so!  And I like this one.  I make a lot of blue rugs (I don't even prefer the color blue, but the first one I ever made was for my Grandma Mary, and blue is her favorite and only color, and the materials from several blue sheets will last a LONG TIME.  Just saying.)  and this one is probably one of my favorites.  It came out with a very 'graphic' quality which pleases me.  And, also?  Is not my asthetic.  What can I say?  I'm extremely open-minded about such things.

Then i made this one, which is much cuter in person, I declare it so.  I like this one because circles are rad.  haha Not even kidding.  Wee little gnomes and flower fairy aren't doing much for the scale.

 But they sure make me happy!  These are prototypes I made from the Wee Folk Art directions, and they are a huge hit with Scotty.  In fact, I had made the purple and the fairy for testing purposes, and Scotty woke up in the morning and found them and loved them so much that he asked me to "make a whole town" and literally MADE me make another one RIGHT NOW because he needed a Daddy.  He claims the originals were him and Tommy.  Be still my heart.  Yesterday I spent most of the day (and my extra hour!) over at my mom's house.  My grand niece and nephew were there, and between the three of them, our three new friends got a quite a workout!  Good, I have big plans for these little folks, and hopefully lots more to share about that.

Anybody making anything?  I know Michelle is making an argyle cardigan (show off!)...anything else happening?  I love to hear about makin'.  It just makes me happy.  :)

Kind of like this video I shared on Facebook this weekend.  Worth sharing again, I promise.

If you can't play the video, you can find it here.

Weekend Freakout

Apropos of nothing, I found this picture when my iPhone synced with my Mac Book.  It was taken at the Lego Store when we went to DisneyLand in August (how could it be that it's already been two months?!?!) and it makes me crazy happy.

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It's been a weekend of extremes around here...

The Giants game was SO FUN on Saturday and SO NOT FUN on Sunday.

It was sunny and breezy on Saturday and cold and dreary on Sunday.

Saturday was a whirlwind of activity between farm visits and lunch with friends, errands, a visit with a dear friend for most of the evening and a late-night grocery store run.  Sunday was a nothin' doin' day, with the first fire of the season and whole lot of cozy-ing up around The Shire.

 Typical of this nutty weather, for the week before our drizzly Sunday, we had near-record setting highs.  Each morning, I would get up early and hang a load of wash on the line.  When I got home, everything was plenty dry, so Scotty and I would remove everything and start over again the next day.  I needed a refresher of clothes pins last weekend, so I chose to stop by a local hardware store, instead of a Target, to pick up a package.  I need a clothes pin bag.  I really do.  I keep them in a bucket that hangs on a hook on the back fence, and that's the reason why I needed new clothespins...the bucket pools water whenever there's precipitation, then the wood gets moldy or the springs get rusty or the whatever gets however and then, next thing you know, I'm down to a small handful of working pins.

 This cute and simple pin bag was at the local hardware store.  It was only $5.00 so the price was definitely right.  A little too right, if you know what I mean?  So I flipped it around and, sure enough, made in china was stamped on the back.

I started to wonder:  where, exactly, would I be able to purchase something like this that wouldn't have come from China?  How do I show my monetary support for products that come from fair trade practices, support local economies, and don't come with the social and ethical burden of being made in countries unhindered by child labor laws or environmental protections?

I went home and decided to just make one myself.  I used one of Scotty's old shirts, and basically just sewed up the bottom.  Nothing could have been easier.  Also?  It turns out?  It was free, which is actually cheaper than even $5.00.  And I love it, I do.  But I also recognize that I'm no closer to solving my original dilemma.

This turn to cold, fall weather, reminds me that our family needs a slipper refresher.  I found some adorable slippers at Satch and Sol and The Boys and I will get some (nothing there for Erik though...so sad!) and you know what?  I will pay about $100 for the slippers.  I guess if I went to Wal Mart I could get three pairs of slippers for less than half that.  But I can afford it, in the sense that I have the money, but the real trick is that it's how I choose to spend what money I have.  Since I'm going to spend twice as much on these slippers, I'm not also going to have money to buy...what?  I'm not sure.  But whatever it is, I don't need it.

So.  Now.   I need to get rain coats and boots for the boys, and Scotty really wants an umbrella.  

And who can blame him?!  That's fun, right there.  But I find it so distressing that I can't even find these items made (locally) (in my state) (okay, I give up, anywhere in the country) even though I am ready and willing to pay 3 times what their cheap import counterparts command. 

I'm going to go wash my face and lie down.  Somebody fix this while I'm gone.  Thanks.

I feel like I have nothing nice to say these days, and I was raised to say nothing at all in such cases as this.  I feel like I've been surrounded by death and chaos and mayhem, and I'm sort of worn out from the whole affair.

It's funny.  I'm not unhappy.  I'm never unhappy (it really is obnoxious) but I'm feeling fragmented.  Through a really difficult start to the new school year (hi, class of 39 third and fourth graders that turned into a class of 32 second and third graders after one month of school and a scant 12 hours of notice) and the death of Marie and  a seemingly unending number of WHOA and HEY THERE and OH CRAP moments queued up around me, I'm just needing....

You know, I almost wrote "I'm just needing to step back", but really, you know what I really want?  I want to sink in.  I want to hole up and hunker down and sink in to my home and my family, because it really is the only place I feel completely safe.

I have a whole laundry list of things I want to make, and fix, and do, and cook, and write, and photograph, and....I guess that's what I'm going to do.   Because in the doing, comes the sinking, and I think that's exactly what I'm looking for right now.

Comfort Food

When my sons have grown into adults (and please, don't make me cry thinking about it)

I will not be very surprised at all if I find out that their 'comfort' food...their 'little bit of home' food...

turns out to be pancakes.

I think we make more pancakes than anybody else on the planet.

Scotty said, "Can you make pancakes?" and you know what?  I did NOT feel like making pancakes.

So I started making some mealy-mouthed excuses and he shook his head and said,

"No, mommy, you just take some eggs and some milk, like this..."

And he went right into the refrigerator to dig up some ingredients and it made me smile.

It also made me cook some pancakes.  Wasn't I just writing about penguin-shaped pancakes?  

These are round.  Plain old round pancakes.  

Can you name the movie?  (hint:  an all-time favorite of mine!)

Person One:  "Do these blow up in to funny shapes at all?"

Person Two:  "Not unless you consider 'round' funny." 

Summer Reading

I get really, really, really busy at work during the school year.  In fact, even after the school year ended, I've had several rather large projects I've had to deal with and so I just feel like "summer" started for us yesterday!  I usually do some consulting work in June and August...but I try to keep July pretty much drama-free. 

The boys and I usually take the whole month of July and have a proper summer, involving swimming and picnics and too much togetherness (resulting in getting on each others' nerves!) and lots of projects around the house, too.  But, like I said, this year got off to a slow start...we went swimming last week at a local...what would I call it?  It's not a lake, for sure, it's probably not what would be termed a reservoir, but definitely it's not a pond.  It's probably closest to what you would call a lagoon, actually, but I'm not certain people really use that word.  Let's.  We went swimming at the lagoon! 

Anyway, circumstances being what they were, the boys went swimming while I sat on a blanket on the grass (away from the sand!!!) and typed into my laptop for a workshop.  Ugh. Still, they had a blast.  What with the beach-y Fourth of July weekend, and add swimming once and visiting the county fair once (that was almost three weeks ago, and our digestive tracts are still recovering) and sneaking in two picnics, we're managing to cobble together a worthy summer experience.  So much of parenting ends up like this...twisting yourself into pretzel-like contortions in order to create an experience for your littles.  The problem is that you expend so much energy making sure they have a great time regardless how hard it is on you, then you hide all that work from them, because hello, childhood, and it's not their fault you have a deadline, and next thing you know, you're yelling into a pillow because they can't possibly appreciate what they don't even know is happening, and, well...maybe that's just me. Ahem.

So.  Oh, right!  Summer started.  My friend Michelle bought a book for me to read, it's called Lil Bee.  I've only read about sixty pages yet, but it's really getting to me!  So far, I'm in love with the writing.  There are certain passages that are just...perfect.  Oh gosh.  Seriously, I could just swoon because the words and the tone and the pace are like the perfect storm and I want to linger on these and reread them and I want to remember them so I can take them out of my memory and enjoy them long after the book is through.

Lil Bee is a Nigerian refugee in a British detention center.  She narrates the experience (exquisitely) and she spends some time describing the clerk at the front desk.  Later, she and three others are walking out of the detention center, and here she refers to desk clerk who is releasing them:

While I looked, he moved his arm over the page to cover the headline.  He made it look like he needed to scratch his elbow.  Or maybe he really did need to scratch hs elbow.  I realized I knew nothing about men apart from the fear.  A uniform that is too big for you, a desk that is too small for you, an eight-hour shift that is too long for you, and suddenly here comes a girl with three kilos of documents and no motivation, another one with jelly-green eyes and a yellow sari who is so beautiful you cannot look at her for too long in case your eyeballs go ploof, a third girl from Nigeria who is named after a honeybee, and a noisy woman from Jamiaca who laughs like the pirate Bluebeard.  Perhaps this is exactly the type of circumstance that makes a man's elbow itch.

I have no idea about the story itself (I'm not even to the INCIDENT on THE BEACH my goodness, the foreshadowing!) I just know that there are certain points ~ a word, a sentence, a paragraph ~ that already own me. 

It's so sad, too.  Most of my reading occurs in the "library" (read:  bathroom) a paragraph (and occasionally a page...or two *cough*) at a time, and keeping with yesterday's theme of ABSURDITY, you can now find me crying while sitting on the toilet and I will conclude by letting you know, that's no way to spend your summer.

Versatile Blogger :)

Miss Carmen has given me an award!  How sweet!  It's for being a "versatile blogger", which kind of cracks me up...because I think that's about the nicest way you can say that I lack focus.  *cough*

The rules for this award are simple. Thank the person who gave you the award (thanks Carmen!), tell seven things about yourself and pass the award along to some bloggers you love.

1.  Next year, I took a job teaching at one of my favorite schools in our district.  My class list boasts 31 third graders and 5 fourth graders.  la-la-la-la i can't hear you!

2.  I can't stand to be wet.  I often wash my hair by hanging my head over the tub after I leave the shower, just so I won't have to be completely wet all at once.

3.  I am trying really hard to remember my cloth grocery bags at the market.  I occasionally leave them in the pantry after the last haul, but I often leave them in the car when I go into the store!  Currently, I punish myself for this by insisting on not taking any bags at all...I juggle my purchases across the parking lot.  That'll learn me!

4.  My cars are always filthy.  Inside and out.   And almost always out of gas.  I have also locked the keys in my car so many times, that I ended up giving my colleague a set of extra keys, so that she wouldn't have to keep calling her Triple-A insurance.  *blush*

5.  Speaking of keys?  I also routinely lock us out of the house.  There are many (very generous) people in my life who choose to interpret my ridiculous behavior as a form of "genius"...like, "oh Mia is so full of lofty thoughts, there's just no more room for the mundane details of life."  I wish those same people could have seen me the day I fell into the bath tub after climbing through the tiny shower window at the top of the stall.   The window is roughly the size of two gallons of milk; I managed to thread myself through, but crashed to the bottom, breaking the built-in ceramic soap dish and tearing down the shower curtain on the way.  I wonder what those (very generous) people would be thinking if they had found me, amidst all that property damage, laying very still and trying to figure out if I had also broken a bone or two?

6.    For reasons I'd rather not disclose, I never know how to answer the question on a job application re:  "have you ever been convicted of a felony".

7.   I am a procrastinator.  See, I even put off saying that until the last possible second!

Whew!   Now, that was actually kind of fun...I would love to pass the Versatile Blogger Award on to my cousin, Kelly, and her aunt, Betty...plus I'd love to hear from Michelle (but I know you don't have "that kind of blog", so I understand if you choose not to share!  ooohhh, or, you know what, you can put it in the comments here!) and although I just found the blog of "La" when she left a comment the other day, I'd love to hear more about her, too!  I think anyone with the word "potpourri" in their blog title would have to fall under the versatile flag.  :) 

Whew!

School is officially out!  We went to the end-of-little-league pizza party tonight, so it was an exceptionally long day...but it was hot and the kids are in full summer mode already(oh, bed time, where are you!?), and I FINALLY had a minute to comment here to folks who left sweet notes over the last two weeks.  How did that happen?  You know, it's funny, I never used to comment in the comments on my old blog.  I was so self-conscious!  Now, I don't even care how dorky I am ~  I love the tips and sweet comments and I pretty much feel so much better when I get to write back...I'm going with better late than never?  :)  Also, I'm just going to pretend anybody cares.  haha!

I'm looking forward to this weekend...it's swamped with graduations and birthdays, but I plan to get some serious yard time in tomorrow, and I have project lists and crafty fun on my mind.  Plus, my dear friend Glenn just called and invited Erik out onto his sailboat for a day on the bay!  Oh, yes, summer is definitely arrived! 

I just can't get over these tomato plants.  The one in the back and the one in the front were planted on the same day.  The one in the back is towering over the top of the cage!

(Confidential to Jason:  Doesn't kitty look majestic?!)

This tomato plant?  Planted on the same day.

Here...these tomato plants?   You guessed it!  Same day.  Why so different?  The ones closest to me our taller than Scotty; but look at the ones just to the right here....so tiny!  It's really so strange!

Looking at this picture...aren't the flowers so pretty?  They remind me that....

We still have visitors!  When they showed up last weekend, I was so (happily) bewildered.  What could they possibly see in our underdeveloped patch of land?  The flowers above were planted last year, virtually ignored, and now lookit ~ so pretty.  It makes me wonder if they're suddenly so stellar because that's what bees do...make things flourish.  I know bees travel far and wide to get their pollen, but still, I have to believe our little gardens are majorly benefiting!

One of the things their arrival has done is to make me so much more aware (and appreciative) of all the plant life.  The green bin they've moved into is under a pine tree, and for the first time ever, I realized how gorgeous these purple blooms are that become pine cones.  I'd never stopped to notice such a thing!

There's also a wee-bit of blooming going on inside ~ my fabric!  This is the fabric I won in a giveaway at Beautiful Beatta's blog last fall, and I'm finally going to make it into a quilt.   I'm joining Carmen for a quilt along...this will be the first quilt I do from start to finish!  Wish me luck.  It's six weeks, and each week to tackle just a part of the project.  This was the week the wash and iron the fabrics.  Check.  It's never too late to join if you want to throw your hat in the ring!


Alright.  Just so you know.  As I was writing this up and waiting for pictures to upload, we got another nasty (but quick) jolt.  Earthquake.  There were two last Thursday night, too.  Almost exactly the same time.  All three have been between 2.5 and 3.0.  I'm a native Californian, so I won't even get out of my chair for less than 5.0, and even then, I wait to see how long it will last ~ I perk up, but I'm not going to get hysterical.  It could be over by the time I finally stand, so why break my neck hopping up?  Anyway, when I came home tonight, Erik said, "Earthquake weather."  I'm pretty sure he did it to tease me, as it is one of my long-standing pet peeves (right up there with stickers on fruit) that any time it gets "muggy" in the Bay Area, some dork starts in on 'earthquake weather' (I assure you, there is no such thing) but man....now I'm wondering!  The epicenter last week was less than 2 miles from our house (we live ON the Hayward Fault, I'm telling you) and this one I'm seeing here was also 2 miles away (in the other direction) and at 2.5.  Even when you're right on top of a 2.5, it's not a whole lot of shaking...but man, they're just loud when you're that close.  You hear it before you feel it, even.  Anyway, all this to warn you, that I'm fairly certain I feel a hey-I-updated-the-earthquake kit kind of post coming up.

I Can't Do Much ~ Part Deux

Following along with the theme from yesterday, there's another very small thing I've been working on.

I'm beyond sick about this oil volcano in the Gulf.   I think about it all the time, and the helplessness...and hopelessness...that comes with this preoccupation is so profound.  We are right at the edge of our technology and our knowledge.  Who even knows at this point if what the things that they're trying are actually going to cause more and more damage?  It's mind boggling. 

I want to do something huge.  I'm not even sure what this would be at this point, but I'm looking for it.

In the mean time, I found this.  It's not huge, in fact, it's oh-so-small.  Craft Hope is sponsoring this project, and this is how they describe it on their website:

...to assist them in their efforts in caring for and cleaning oiled marine mammals, mostly dolphins, other marine mammals, birds, and sea turtles. Dolphins are naturally curious and have been swimming toward the oil plumes to investigate… and that curiosity gets them in a lot of trouble against the oil slick.

They need hand towels and wash rags to use for cleaning oil off the animals.  They are asking for small rags that will be destroyed during the clean up and tossed immediately.  As I read through the details added at the bottom, I saw it could be as easy as cutting up towels and t-shirts (all 100% cotton) and sending them along.  I stopped just long enough to embroider on a "thank you" for the volunteers.  You know, so it's crafty.

I can't do much.  But I can do this. 

I Can't Do Much

I am optimistic by nature.  I have been described, not unaffectionately, as "pathologically cheerful". 
Shortly after my godmother was diagnosed with lung cancer, I got a recruitment phone call from the Red Cross.  They'd like it very much if I'd agree to come in and give aphresis platelet donation a whirl.  I have the rarest blood type, but wouldn't you know it it also the universal donor for this particular product?  This particular product, by the way, has a primary function...it's given to chemo patients to boost their immunity after treatment.  Yes, sir, I think I would like to sign up for that, thanks for calling.

There are so many reasons why I should not be doing this process.  First, it's a two arm process.  My left arm is a gusher with a nice juicy vain.  My right arm is a complete dud.  They have no problems getting the output vein set up and rolling through my left arm.  During the process, the blood goes into a centrifugal machine, gets separated, and the platelets stay and everything else comes back to me through a needle in my right arm.  I now have three holes in my right arm, each with its own bruise, because it took them that long to get the needle lodged into a viable spot.

It's funny, when my sons were born, and I was breastfeeding them, I had a Winner Boob and a Loser Boob, too.  Come to think of it, lefty was the winner.  It is possible that the entire right side of my body is just dead weight.

So the whole thing takes a couple of hours.  I get to watch a movie!   But not everybody is a good candidate for this type of donation. The anti-coagulants that they use in the centrifugal machine, some of those come back in with your blood and, well, some people get sick. Um. I get sick. Yeah, the first time I did it, I went for almost an hour and a half, and I got super sick. It wasn't dangerous or anything, but I was fainty and feverish and passed out....twice. But I wasn't even upset about getting sick.  I was just annoyed that I missed the last fifteen minutes of Milk!  I guess I technically know how it ends, but it's not like I'll ever rent the movie to watch the last fifteen minutes.  They were a bit worried about me, actually, because they got enough platelets to use, but the part that got stopped was the part where the rest of my blood would have come back to me.  Which means that I lost quite a bit of blood from the process.  Whoopsie daisy!

There were a few steps I could take to better prepare myself for the process (calcium, water, food choices, etc.) so I signed up to try again.  Which I did, on Sunday.  Worked like a charm!   This time I watched The Blindside, which was actually great.  I think I was expecting something more schmaltzy, which it wasn't. It was cute and kind of laugh-out-loud funny a few times.  (If you think it's weird that I'm so into the movies, then you must not totally understand what it's like to live with my very loud sons.  A heated lounger, wrapped in blankets, with headphones and nobody interupting me every 8 seconds?  I wish I could knit, honestly, but you can't move your arms.  If I could knit there, I'd never leave.)

Most of the aphresis donations taken in Oakland (where I go) goes to lukemia patients at Children's Hospital.   I can't do much.  But I can do this.  So I will.

Flying Higher

You can baaarrrreeelllyyyyy see him, flying there in the center...an enormous hawk, sprawling and majestic, but he looks like a tick here.  Actually, he looks smaller even than the tick I pulled out of Scotty's tummy last night when he came out of the woods at the little league playoff game.  Yes, you heard me, a TICK.  *shudder*  If you've started to itch after reading this, imagine my world for the past 24 hours, after plucking that thing out.

Here you go, for perspective, the gray matter in the middle of this one, just hovering** over the mountain, is actually a plane.  It's landing at the Oakland airport.  From where I'm sitting, taking this picture in my backyard, we can watch planes land**** at the San Francisco airport, across the bay there, and here in Oakland, just past that tree on the right, and also at the wee little executive airport in Hayward, to the left of where we are sitting.

I liked these two pictures together because they kind of define where we are living...high on this hill, you can watch the cars and trains pass below you, but the sounds are so distant, it's more like waves crashing on a beach.   Just the rural beauty of a hawk, juxtaposed with the modern mechanics of a Boeing 747...it kind of makes me smile.

**  I once told Erik that he was pronouncing "hovering" wrong, because he was saying it like huv-er-ing.  I told him it was supposed to be said like hoe-ver-ing.   After a full five minutes of this, exasperated, he sputtered out, "But, look, don't you say hover craft?!?"  And I said, willfully and blatantly forging on, even though I agreed with him the whole time, "Don't you say over?"  This was before I had any real hobbies, so irritating him for no reason was the closest I got to entertainment.  This is why I often tell a friend, "Yarn saved my marriage."

****  My treadmill is in the garage, and I used to open up the door and pretend like I was running outside.  I often ran at 10 pm, when the kids were asleep and everything that need getting done had finally got done, and I'd leave the lights off in the garage.  It was quiet and peaceful and I'd watch the planes land to pass the time.  I thought 'mill running was so boring, so I'd play little games with myself, like, when a plane came into view, I'd watch it until it disappeared behind that tree on the right.  If another plane came into view on the left, before the previous one disappeared on the right, I had to watch that new one until it disappeared...and I'd repeat all this, if another plane had come into my sight in the meantime.  But, but, and here's where the excitement kicks in, if no plane broke the event horizon on my left before the previous plane exited on my right, well, then I allowed myself a peak at the time on the treadmill, so I could check how long I'd been going.  Since I'd run for 5 or 6 miles at a time, without this little game, I'd be obsessively staring at the time...and just like a watched pot never boils, a watched timer never ends.  In the 45 minutes I'd be running, I'd only get to look at the timer a handful of times.  Seriously, a lot of planes are landing, all the time.  Except, right after the World Trade Centers were attacked, all air travel stopped for several days.  That was so eerie!  I think it was the first time I realized just how many planes pass through here, on those few days when no planes passed at all.