The Human Race 600

Keeping Watch

2012-01-19T06:06:00.000-05:00

Sometimes a guy should be allowed to nap without his fan club hovering nearby.

Brave enough to ask the big questions

2011-10-31T07:00:00.000-04:00

Do you ever think about your friends? I do. I think about how nice or pretty or funny they are. I think about how they don't have gray hair and probably shave their legs more often than I do. But I've begun to wonder if I really know them? Sure, I can spell their names, find their houses, and call their pets by name ... kind of. But what about the things I don't know? What if they're famous and I'm missing out? What if they have an evil clone - will I know my friend enough to pick her out? These are the things that keep me awake at night and Facebook has been of no help to me whatsoever.

For example, there's Caution. No. Not me. But a friend who shares my first name and last initial. It caused a mix-up once or twice, but our husbands apparently know who we are and that helps. Here's what I do know: she is a numbers wizard. She speaks math as her second language and she doesn't even have an accent! I also know she is a great scout leader and her cooking/baking/entertaining would make Martha cry with jealousy. She's probably a lot nicer than Martha, too. So what else could I possibly need to know? For starters, does she ever cheat and use her fingers to count? Can she hula hoop? Plain pretzels or with mustard?

See what I mean? You think you know someone, but what you DON'T know may be more interesting and valuable.

There's another friend around here. Another scout leader and capable leader. I KNOW that she's smart and fun and that she thrives on organization and creative ideas. She is also fond of pirates. So what is it that I don't know? Does she floss as often as she probably tells the dentist? Creamy or chunky peanut butter? Christmas music before Thanksgiving or not? And though she might want to sing karaoke, do WE want her to?

So what is my point here you ask desperately hoping there is one. Rest assured, I am very point driven and today's is this: Do we know each other beyond names, general continent of residence, and whether or not we have the ability to type withouttt typos?

If you've been curious about who I am, here are the answers:
yes,
sometimes,
strawberry,
over the top of the roll,
as little as I have to,
about $51.86.

Doesn't that feel better??? We are actually getting to really know each other and I couldn't be happier.
Anything else you need to know, just ask. In the meantime, I'm going to log back into Facebook to find out if my friends have birthdays or not.

At what point will he understand?

2011-10-25T09:40:00.000-04:00

Every time my daughter has a choir concert, the director decides that in addition to the choir uniforms, there will be one special number requiring a different set of clothing. He assures us that he chooses clothing that all students will already have in their closets. Of course, my daughter never has the clothing in her closet or dresser or under her bed or even on her floor. So on Saturday we headed over to Target for the required Converse shoes for this week's concert.

When we got there, we took a cart because everyone knows you can't walk out of Target with just one thing.

Seventeen hours later while waiting in the check-out line, I noticed the couple in front of us. The husband seemed to speak civilly to his wife, but each of her responses was curt and then grew to snippy and finally to rude. The husband, who had at first been gracious to the cashier, appeared to take his frustrations with his wife out on the cashier. The more the wife snapped at the husband, the more the husband began to snap at the cashier. That's when karma, justice, or whatever you want to call it happened.

Each time the husband snapped, criticized, or complained, the cashier began to work slower. Not only would she painstakingly slowly scan the product, but she then would struggle to get it into a bag, and then would have to decide if she wanted to tie the bag or not, and then would deliberate putting the bag on the counter or not. That hesitation would cause the husband to snap at her again, and her speed would again slow down.

The decrease in speed happened incrementally, but after twenty or so items, the cashier was working at a rate of near paralysis.

I enjoyed the cashier's solution and would have thought it was greatly humorous had I not been next in line.

Good things come to those who wait, however. As we FINALLY prepared to leave the store, the Starbucks barista gave us the cutest little samples of a berries and creme frappe. The couple in front of me? Well, they paid $10 for frappes only slightly larger than our FREE samples.

And my daughter and I lived happily ever after.

Necessity and Invention

2011-10-20T10:51:00.001-04:00

This is what happens when one MUST play his video game, but his mother will not turn on the heat.

Yes, I do still consider myself a blogger

2011-10-07T09:51:00.000-04:00

It's just a little discouraging to get to Friday and realize that the week-end will be just as busy as the week has been. But ... it will be sunny and hot, so I'll be fine.

*This week, pettiness in my little social/volunteer circles has been abundant. Why do people insist on being the center of attention or having things go their way??

*Transitioning away from pettiness now, my niece recently was talking about RON Paul. I misunderstood and thought she was talking about RUE Paul. You might imagine my confusion as the conversation continued to move forward and she talked about his children and grandchildren.

*For three years, this typically well-behaved Lab mix has consistently done two things she shouldn't. She tries to get on our bed and she indulges in anything in the trashcan. We shoo. We lock the trashcan. We holler. We put the trashcan up on the counter, and still, when we look the other way, Miss Pepper is at it again. She owns us and she knows it.

P.S. Pepper isn't really a ghost. That's just the paper camera app on my phone ... AND that is our bed that she is posing on.

*Did you know that early cathedrals were constructed, in part, to show the poor, illiterate peasants a brief glimpse of what Heaven will be like? I find that fascinating and logical. There is much to be said for a beautiful sanctuary and liturgy.

*If you are not like my youngest boy who says that he is pretty much beyond the reading stage now, I recommend The Language of Flowers. It's a haunting and beautiful-written story of a girl who turns 18 and emancipates from the foster care program. A long time ago I had a student who had just emancipated. She ended up in our state because someone she had just met was moving here. "Where else would I go?" she asked me.

*Checkered and I have been talking about what careers we would choose if we were doing it all over. He thinks he might like to work for the Department of Natural Resources. If I were to choose teaching again, I might work in Special Education. Then again, maybe I would just drive a train. I'll have to keep thinking about this one. How about you? In a do-over, what job would you choose?

Now that I'm thinking about it, I would like to be the car horn czar. Use your horn a little too liberally? Bam! It would be silenced.

Have a wonderful week-end.

Seriously? Caution's blogging!

2011-09-23T07:00:00.000-04:00

**Most every day I think about writing a blog post, and then decide that I don't have much to write about. I'm trying to expand my little world so that I'm more interesting. For example, this morning I am attending a health team fair for our elementary school. WHOA!!! Now you can be sure that the excitement index on this blog will explode !!

**Have you heard the song, "Teenage Daughters" ?? There are a couple of perfect lines in it :

"My baby's growin' up, she thinks she's fallin' all in love, and that I hate her."

and

"She rolls her eyes when I'm funny, but she's sweet when she wants money and her freedom."

**I sooo very much love these chairs.

I want two for my front porch, but my porch is littered with the cast-offs of my other chair dreams. Of course, when I buy these I will turn them right side up. That's where Blogger and differ.

**The newish governor of Michigan has done some good things for our state, but he now wants to have our children's BMI numbers recorded at the state level. No. No! NO!! Leave that between my family and our doctor!

**We will soon be leaving a truck as our main vehicle and the only sad family member is Checkered. Perhaps that is because he doesn't have to travel like this:

**See this memo? So did everyone else who walked by the mailboxes at work.

**I just finished the slightly enigmatic , somewhat trite, and fairly sweet novel, Lost and Found by Jacqueline Sheehan. Next on the list is The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh. The Nook is charging even as I type.

Speaking of electronic readers, children in my sons' classes are now bringing them to school to use during free reading time. Since I would like to own mine a little longer than a minute, I think my boys will continue to take paperbacks.

My new parenting/teacher philosophy:

2011-09-22T13:53:00.000-04:00

All the world's a fragmented thought...

2011-09-09T09:14:00.001-04:00

After weeks of lackluster and intermittent blogging, I have returned to Friday Fragments - only to learn from Blogger's new interface that I have not earned one penny from this blog. That is only slightly more than I earn at my jobs.

Greatly related to the previous sentence: the school year has begun and all is temporarily well. On the first day of Spanish class, a student was bragging to my daughter that she already knew one Spanish word. The word was aloha.

Have you tried this mint water? I think I like it. There is also a chocolate mint version, but it is ALWAYS sold out at my Kroger store.

I've been listening to all the news warnings that unoccupied cars will be towed in certain areas in an attempt to thwart a terrorist attack. Being the driver who must tow those suspicious cars is a job I would not want.

In another international warning, don't play Kelli Norgaard in Words with Friends. She just played an 85 point word against me. I am intimidated by all you smart people!! Don't I have any dumb-ish friends who want to play?

Aren't you delighted that it's Friday? I am, but I do wish I had looked down before I left the house this morning.

See you all on Monday!!

Happy Friday

2011-08-26T09:05:00.000-04:00

I don't know where my blog went yesterday, but I do know I felt completely bereft when I saw that notice. Trying to find a missing blog isn't as easy as one may think. There are four "simple" steps, but many times (as in my case) the link for step 2 is missing. Ironically enough, I was cited for excessive posting!! How my blog returned is a mystery, but I am SO HAPPY TO BE BACK!!

We are about to embark on our last "normal" week-end of summer break. I suppose that means I will take a break from nagging the boys to go outside or call a friend. All summer, I've determined that if they don't want to be outside, then they will be kept busy inside. They've learned to cut the grass, to clean the house, and to fix some things. If you need some screens repaired, give them a call!

Anyone know what these are?

I do know I saw them in a catalog. I do know that I ordered them. I do know I planted them. But I can't remember what they are!

My middle boy took his sister to "Take a friend to karate night." He deemed her chosen outfit unsuitable and made her wear bigger clothing! There's a lot to be said for the wisdom of younger brothers.

Last week-end I decided to surprise my husband by painting the biggest wall in our kitchen. The first color looked only faintly yellow. Not good. The second color looked fantastic at Lowes and then perfectly glaring once I painted (the picture fails to show the harshness.) I will not repaint until I finish redoing the cabinets and counter tops. I guess that means we will have to live with that color for a few years!

Now I'm off to laugh as my youngest son makes fun of Stevie Nicks, to listen to my middle boy as he attempts to teach himself some Russian phrases, to help my oldest boy pack for his first Order of the Arrow Ordeal, and to let my daughter practice her driving. May the Lord be with us all.

After fighting to get my blog back, I won't complain too much that I can't get Mrs. 4444's widget to work.

I probably should learn from this

2011-08-22T07:55:00.004-04:00

His dad and older brother returned home from a couple of days of hiking. They hobbled about comically and talked of aches and pains and counted their mosquito bites. We listened and shared our own adventures.

Then the teen-aged daughter left to spend time with a friend she hasn't seen in a ....week!

The middle boy headed off to try to sneak in a video game even though they are banned on Sundays.

I began to think about dinner and the start of the semester.

But what about the youngest boy?

What did he do?

He rubbed his daddy's feet.

Who has time for spell check?

2011-08-16T09:47:00.001-04:00

Many of us have ~~benefited from~~ ~~enjoyed~~ been embarrassed by the auto correct programs on our smart communication devices. These programs were designed to save us from ourselves. While sending a text or posting to a social networking site, and our smart phones/tablets will automatically substitute a word they "know" for a word we've typed that they don't recognize. Sometimes it saves us; sometimes it hangs us out to dry. My most recent auto spell gaffe was a simple text wherein I tried to convey that someone's maiden name was Booker. If you've been a victim of auto correct, you know the message the phone actually sent, so I shouldn't even bother to type it.

But I will. This is the message my phone sent and that I did NOT catch until it was too late. "She used to be a hooker."

Laugh but you know you've been there, too. How do I know that? I've seen your texts and posts on Facebook. So we're even.

But I am pretty sure that my students don't compose their essays on their phones and most don't use tablets. So it was on an old fashioned PC or Mac that they composed these gems which they then submitted for a grade in my composition classes. And grade them, I did. I used to circle the mistakes and draw a smiley face, but then I realized that many of the authors didn't see the mistake even then.

So I will now save them for you. Enjoy the summer session submissions! [I'll even translate them for you.]

"I was sad when I lost my part urinal grandfather. Then I lost several more part urinal uncles." [paternal]

"Me and my dad didn't always have a good relationship. Now we have agreed to a cretin relationship." [certain]

"When my mom broke her arm, she had to have a big sergey on them. That was really painful." [surgery]

"We should stop blaming teachers when kids don't do good in school. I believe one of the biggest problems for kids is having elaterid parents." [illiterate]

And for an alarming statistic :

"Breastfeeding is illegal in 57 U.S. states." [Who knew?]

The new term begins on Monday, and I can't wait.

FF: July

2011-07-29T11:38:00.001-04:00

Yesterday was the last day for the summer class I've been teaching. It's been many, many years since I have worked with such a delightful, responsive, bright class. I feel a little cheated that the term lasted only six weeks. Now, while I grade their final projects, here's a glimpse of July with the rest of the family.

The month began as we said, "See you later," to one of our favorite families. What a gift friendship is! But instead of getting all teary again over their relocation, I will focus on how wonderful technology really is now in allowing us to keep track of our far-flung friends.

To brighten our sad selves, we began to play more board games. Our friends have convinced us that Yahtzee rules, but we're pretty fond of Headbanz. Of course, if a certain middle boy memorizes all the cards in the deck, he will always win.

In the middle of the month my two older boys and their dad left for a week of Boy Scout camp.

They endured record-setting temperatures and biting insects, but they survived.

With half the family gone, the other half moved into my room and my bed. No, sweet husband, the dog is NOT on our bed!

The day after the boys returned from camp, my oldest boy (on the right) left for Southeast Kentucky on a service trip with his youth group from church. He spent the week drywalling, and his tender heart was very touched by the poverty he saw.

And finally, on the last day of Boy Scout camp, Checkered watched a teen boy do several pull-ups and he decided to show off his own pull-up skills. This is how his detached bicep tendon now looks from the outside. Next week the surgeon will see what it looks like from the inside.

Only a few weeks until the next trip :(

2011-07-15T12:09:00.001-04:00

Finally! Something good about camping:

Spread the word: I'm sexy!

2011-07-12T07:06:00.001-04:00

Someone to whom I am apparently married is a non-reader. I mean, he knows how to read, but would never choose to spend his free time doing so. Accordingly, he thinks this is the funniest bumper sticker ever.

Ha! Ha!! Do you hear him laughing? Oh, that is a FANTASTICALLY humorous little joke !!! Pass me a tissue so I can wipe my eyes because I am laughing so hard!

And if, per chance, I don't laugh until I cry from the "humor" of this bumper sticker, I may use this tissue to freshen up a bit. You see, reading IS sexy, and that idea just might make me the sexiest person in this marriage.

Wait!! I apologize, sweet husband. What we need is a bumper sticker that reflects the truth. How about:

"Husbands who get their wives a mocha frappe before church and happen to see a little bumper sticker on the way to McDonalds are incredibly sexy, too. "

Mysterious Activities

2011-07-07T07:18:00.000-04:00

Any guesses what my guy did last night?

What the world fears!

2011-07-05T07:18:00.000-04:00

I recently was asked by no one to conduct a survey of the entire world, but I did it anyway. The goal was to determine what people fear. Unfortunately, I was the only respondent.

Please now, be patient as I walk you through the data. The mathematical computations for such a large survey were challenging and the only break I took was when a cashier corrected my math as I tried to add the tip to the final bill at a local restaurant last week. He even rolled his eyes a little.

I fully expected my respondents to give the typical answers: disease, financial ruin, finding only whole milk in the fridge at breakfast time. However, that's not where the results went. Interestingly enough, they correlated quite closely to a camping trip I took last week. How strange is that ?!

Now, without further digression, here are the top three things people REALLY fear most.

Number 3: mice. Tiny. Furry. Fast. Buck-toothed rodents who try to steal anything they can unless they live in Pinconning, Michigan. One may live for several decades without sampling Pinconning cheese or even hearing about it, but one would be missing a grand experience. Fortunately for me, my children are not afraid of cheese. (They are, however, suspectible to gagging that may ensue when one smells a cheese store or when one thinks one is sampling Tiger cheese only to discover that it is not. )

Number 2: canoes. If before the trip one must first empty her bladder, but finds only an outhouse, the canoe will not seem a friendly place. If, during and after the trip, one finds that ALL her companions have peed in the river, the canoe oddly enough becomes a bit friendlier.

Number 1: pop-up campers. Say what you will about jacks and stabilizer bars. Laugh if you will but that will not alleviate the fear of the world's entire population. The math stands to reason. Two children constantly bickering, two teens constantly sleeping, one male parent flopping back and forth from stomach to back all night, one mother wishing she had a bathroom of her own = a pop-up that may well roll away or tip over. It will only be the sheer will power of the mother who refuses to move a single muscle all night that will stabilize the little vacation home and keep it steady.

Number 0: Yahtzee. Of course it's just a little, friendly game, but when this dice/numbers contest is played against friends who have played it since they were in the womb (and who may have tried their best to drown me with water guns during a canoe trip), it is only slightly less enjoyable than having one's math corrected by a teenaged cashier.

Thus ends my first world-wide survey.

How many times can I possibly write about the same topic?

2011-06-27T20:02:00.001-04:00

Every May I look with envy at my neighbor's yard. It spends every May through September in glorious color and bloom. Okay. I'll admit that I get a little jealous when I look at my own barren and dead yard. So every June I buy a few flowers and look smugly at my two pots and think how jealous my neighbor probably is of how beautiful my flowers look with so much less work than she has to invest.

Then in July, I ask the nursery employee why my flowers are dead and the neighbor's are thriving. The employee will warn me about over watering and needed nutrients and about measuring sunlight. I always have a witty retort that sounds suspiciously like, "Um.

What was that you said about 'watering' ?" And then the employee will guffaw about having never heard of anyone killing flowers by NOT watering. Ha! Ha! Ha! "Do you feed your children?" Ha! Ha! Ha! "Don't YOU eat?" HAHAHA!!!!

It's at that point I leave the nursery because I cannot be bothered with feeble-minded idiots.

Last fall, I outsmarted myself. I picked up a catalog and pointed to a few bulbs and ordered them. A few weeks later those little, oniony-looking bulbs went into a couple of potting tub-thingies, and I covered them with newspaper and put them under my despised camper to rot.

Of course, I didn't mean rot because I knew exactly what I was doing.

This spring my husband needed to pull the camper out of the garage, and look at that! There were those pots that I ~~had forgotten~~ clearly remembered.

I proudly put them in front of my house. Take that, green-thumb neighbor!!! And then, while flowers came and went all around her house, my family and I enjoyed lots of spindly green something or others in our potting tub-thingies. Occasionally, my children would inquire about what they were, and I would smirk. "Silly, dear children! They're our flowers!" My precious children would begin to question me again, and I would quickly silence them by going for ice cream.

But look what happened this week!!! We have flowers. Nine ~~things I don't know the name of~~ colorful, graceful, elegant examples of my horticultural talent. Take that, condescending nursery employee! Be jealous now, talented gardener neighbor! Enjoy, oh ye children of little faith.

Checkered tells me that we might even have rain for the next few days, and we all know what that means: these nine flowers have a chance to live until next week!!!!!

Sometimes, I absolutely amaze myself.

Fragmented, choppy, and all things me

2011-06-24T09:20:00.001-04:00

I can't seem to find the rhythm of blogging these days. I think it's hiding somewhere at Dairy Queen, so while I go in search of that, here's a small window of how my mind really works:

The merits of logic gone wrong: My youngest boy sadly stated that it's too bad his brother will never be able to become a fire fighter. The reason? His butt is apparently too small ???

And then there's the part where I fool myself: I made some muffins to take to my friend's house and was pleased that they were still warm when I arrived. Her response? "These are pretty good for a mix." HOW DID SHE KNOW?

And speaking of knowledge, have you read the ebook, Sentence of Marriage? You MUST. Now I am reading the first sequel, Mud and Gold, and it's almost as good.

Here comes the work reference: my students and I read an editorial yesterday about how even as society speeds along technologically, we are clamoring more and more for a hands-on, slower connection to life. The editorial then cited the Etsy stores as a prime example of our longing for more of a human connection. Not one of my 27 students had any idea what Etsy is, so that kind of shot a hole right through the article's theory.

The students did, however, better understand Dave Berry's advice that women would be happier if they only looked at themselves from the front. He says we get into trouble when we look at our image from other angles such as the side or the back. He says men have perfected the art of the one-glance, front view only and are much happier as a result. I think he's right!

And speaking of men, isn't it the most awkward thing as a woman to have a conversation with a male acquaintance whose fly is open?

And speaking of things men love, some women and I were discussing the merits of breast liposuction. Two other women stood next to us and talked about their longing for breast enhancement. Seriously, if they can do a person-to-person blood transfusion, can't they do a person-to-person boob transfusion?

Now I'm done speaking. So head over to Mrs. 4444's place, and see who else is feeling especially fragmented today

.
And if you're mature enough, stop by here:

Nope. Not for me.

2011-06-22T06:38:00.009-04:00

I sincerely do NOT like camping!

Too much fresh air.

Way too much togetherness.

Limited kitchen supplies.

Sand. Dirt. Sand. Dirt. Sand. Dirt.

Bored children.

Annoyed teens who could actually be having fun at home.

Gross public bathrooms which are so much friendlier to boys.

Camp stores that sell moldy donuts.

Nope. Camping is absolutely not for me, and there is nothing that will change my mind.

Help is on the way

2011-06-21T07:00:00.001-04:00

Along the shores of Michigan it used to be common to see life saving stations. The stations were intended to help shipwreck victims struggling in the cold dark waters of the Great Lakes. Volunteers would pull heavy, wooden boats down the shore, and desperately row out searching for survivors.

These days we don't have many shipwrecks around here, and we have greatly evolved our lifesaving skills.

But the more things change, the more they stay the same. If you get in trouble in the water near Port Austin, Michigan, pray some kind-hearted volunteer sees you, can pull the boat into the water, and can row like crazy.

Staying on land is just so much safer.

Longing for Deeper Than Pink

2011-06-15T09:00:00.000-04:00

I am and have always been pink. Agreeable. One of the group. Good at fitting in.

Pink is good. Pink is lovely. Pink is very safe.

But the older I get, the more red I want to be. Individual and independent. Unfettered by public opinion. Unafraid to be me.

I suppose the trick is discovering who that "me" really is.

Work Will Wait

2011-06-08T08:46:00.000-04:00

There's so much I need to do this week. Next week brings the end of school for my children and all those exciting last week activities. The week after that my own summer class begins. I need to get ready to spend the next six weeks teaching my reluctant students how to write in an argumentative manner. So there are things I really need to get done this week.

But these two like to camp out under my favorite desk area - right where I want my feet to be.

It's a pretty sweet inconvenience.

Caution's True Tale

2011-06-06T09:48:00.001-04:00

This morning, despite sunscreen and a big hat, I have the sunburn to prove that I actually spent part of my week-end watching youth sports. And just to prove that I didn't spend the ENTIRE time looking at my Nook, here are three lessons I learned:

Of course they're not okay
When someone gets hurts and collapses on the ground, we often get frightened and start asking, "Are you okay?! Are you okay?!" Since the person is on the ground, since the person is apparently in pain and not talking, since the person has just begun to take inventory of the injury, give them some time and assume that they are NOT okay.

You know why you got hurt, don't cha?
When someone is injured, why do we think it will help if we point out all the reasons they just got hurt? Can't we allow people a minute or even ten before we tell them what they did wrong (as if they don't already know.)

Sometimes parents are idiots
The woman grabbed the seat next to me and although there were people without a place to sit, she guarded that seat but didn't use it. What she did do was continue to call someone and leave voicemails. "Please come to the game. The kids want you here. We sure could use your help getting his equipment on. The game starts soon. I've got a seat for you. Please be here. Please?" She made approximately 10 calls while I unashamedly listening. She was, after all, holding a seat hostage. Eventually her kids came and gathered around her. "Where's Dad?" "Please tell me he's not sitting in the car." "I knew he'd do this again!" "He's not coming, is he?" "Why do you bother calling him?"

Then one last question from the kids, and this comment most certainly wasn't a joke.

"Dad's high again, isn't he?"

Mom gave a weak smile, but had nothing to say to her precious children. I so wish she hadn't first seen me staring at her before she looked down, her face blazing in shame.

Next week-end I'm going to leave my Nook at home, and will ask the good Lord to help me see people the way He does - less in need of my judgment and more in need of my love.

I've got some things I need to say!

2011-06-03T09:02:00.001-04:00

Whew! It's Friday. It's sunny and warm. And it's pizza night. Things just don't get better than that!

My little stick tree was coming along well until a fateful night of heavy rain. The little stick snapped in half and my electrical tape fix apparently wasn't sufficient. I can't believe how sad we feel. I think we'll try one more Forest Pansy Redbud.

I decided yesterday about this time that I would like to be skinny. That desire was thwarted later by the need to finish some cherry chocolate ice cream (but only in the interest of cleaning out the freezer, of course.)

About the same time I decided to be skinny, I was helping enhance my hair color. Have you ever had a panic moment where you KNEW your hair was going to turn out mustard yellow? No, I haven't either.

My youngest son thought about how busy he would be today with a party and field day at school and asked if he could use deodorant. He came back out of the bathroom and proudly said he had put a lot on - all down his back.

Let us hope he doesn't need first aid as a result since I am the one manning the first aid booth at field day. Please pray that no one bleeds or throws up today, okay?

Here is youngest son wearing his new accessory. His joy is pretty obvious, don't you think?

Did you hear about the couple in Canada who picked up two hitchhikers? One of the guys thumbing was Bono. Can you imagine? It seems that Bono and his friend got caught in a rainstorm during a walk. And, yes, the couple who picked them up got free concert tickets.

Have you ever had a famous person encounter? I don't think I have, and I don't know if I am good with that news or not.

The closest I ever came to a famous person encounter was meeting Mrs. 4444's last summer. Bono can't hold a candle to her!

Good Guys

2011-06-02T09:02:00.000-04:00

Maybe it's the element of the masculine ego tinged with the tenderness of a parent. Maybe it's the deep voices saying the sweet words of love. Maybe it's all those rough whiskers softening into a smile when the splinter finally comes out.

Whatever it is, it gets me every time.

Earlier this week we sat in the blazing sun at a track meet. The heat index was about 100 degrees, and our dinner was burning in the oven at home. Kids were overcome by the heat and a couple threw up, but still we sat there waiting for our son's run. Checkered repeatedly took work calls and handled a couple of crises. The dad below us tried valiantly to finish a work project on his laptop. We were all there for the same good reason.

A few seats over from us sat a dad in his heavy work clothes. He looked entirely miserable. His eyes, though, never left his son. In the stadium, in the infield, on the track - those dad's eyes followed his boy.

Eventually the boy made his way up the bleachers to his dad. They stood there, awkwardness all over the place and no words between them. Finally the boy said he had to rejoin his team and he walked all the way down the bleachers. Then he stopped. Looked around at all the people watching him. And again climbed back to his dad. He leaned over in that heat and with all of us looking on, that teen-aged boy kissed his dad.

"Dad? Thanks for being here."

And then he ran down the bleachers and was gone.

I thought I was the only one with a melting heart until I heard one of the ladies near us asking, "Did you see that boy?" Of course, the lady asking had already complained that she had just spent $85 on her hair just to have it ruined in the heat and the wind. But she said it was worth it.

A dad's love surely is a grand thing, isn't it?

Confession is the First Step

2011-05-24T09:29:00.000-04:00

It's industrial. It's plain. It's nothing at all like some of the neighbors' deck areas or sunrooms. We really tried to live without it. Last winter, when some serious wind gusts took down our last canopy, we thought about our neighbors who had to look at it every day. We thought about how it cut some of my beloved morning light into the kitchen. We thought about upgrading or simply doing without.

Last week-end, we put another one up. We sat in the shade on our rockers, listened to the fountain, watched our boys try to kill each other on the trampoline, and finally admitted the truth:

we really are canopy people.

Perhaps our neighbors will be speaking to us again by the end of the summer.

FF: To the Moon and Back

2011-05-20T08:41:00.001-04:00

Did you ever have one of those weeks where you could manage just one partial thought at a time? Okay, that makes me feel that I’m among friends. Here’s what I mean:

Any Scrivener users out there? I don’t know that I’m IT literate enough to get my money’s worth out, but so far - so good. It’s nice to see chapters lined up so neatly in the binder.
I still love Loretta Lynn’s Van Lear Rose cd.
My daughter has a new boyfriend. We like him. She likes him. Our dog LOVES him. Seriously enthralled. The last time the boyfriend came over, the dog took her foreleg and wrapped it around the boy’s leg to pull him closer. I have never seen her do that before. I suppose when the inevitable break-up comes, I will have to console my daughter and my dog.
BEST medical explanation ever: ovaries your age are like someone who has submitted the paperwork for retirement. Some days there are four hour lunches, some days she won’t even bother to go to work, and then some days she gets worried about her legacy and she’ll decide to work overtime.
I really do not remember there being so much drama in my high school as exists in my daughter’s school. Do you suppose it’s the constant ability to text and IM and those other immediate access means that are to blame?
My husband strongly suggested to our 7^th grade son that he collect all the hoodies he has loaned to some very pretty girls. It took him two arms to carry the clothing home.
Apparently, the more perfume the hoodies arrive home wearing, the better.
My daughter’s choir is working on music from the 60’s. I can so clearly remember being in the basement of our home and listening to Age of Aquarius on a transistor radio.
Why is it so hard for a boy to admit he punched his brother - especially when the brother is crying and holding a very blood-shot eye? No, I'm just not buying the explanation that the younger brother punched himself in the eye. Then again, stranger things have happened.
And finally, drove my those same two youngest boys to school this morning and was appalled at someone's breath. I gave a lengthy lecture on the evils of not brushing and pushed breath mints their direction as they remained mute. When we got to the school, my 5th grader said, "Just so you feel better: I DID brush this morning, but I also was farting all the way to school." - I'm pretty sure that someday his wife will blame this type of behavior on me.

Now to improve my mood, I'm going to see the most gracious hostess in town - or at least in the Midwest.

Dear Teacher,

2011-05-18T09:39:00.001-04:00

They usually start arriving just before final grades are due.

"You're my favorite professor, Dr. Caution!"

"I'm going to miss your class."

and unfortunately,

"i seen you yestarday but didnt get a chance to tell you that your the best english teacher ever!"

The notes are sweet, but the timing is suspect, and I am sure there's some ulterior motive there.

Sometimes the students wait long enough, but the content is a little annoying:

"I was in your class last year. Remember me? I liked you. Will you write me a recommendation for a scholarship? It's due in 15 minutes."

Sometimes the notes are just pure sweetness:

"I did it! I got admitted to the nursing program!! Thanks for your encouragement."

Last week I got a different kind of note. It was from a student who was in my class five YEARS ago.

It was heartfelt and beautiful. It spoke of her amazing struggle we could not have foreseen and survival we might not have predicted. She has now graduated, and needs nothing from me. Her words, though, touched my heart. She said I made a difference. She said I had offered her hope that stayed with her all those years. She said a lot of other things, too, and they are words I will treasure forever - most especially on those days when my boss doesn't know my name or a stubborn student tries to convince me that I chose the wrong career.

So what's this post about? It's not self-serving. Really! But the school year is coming to a fast close and sometimes we parents scramble to find a good year-end gift to show a teacher our appreciation. If you have truly loved the teacher, write a note. Better still, have your child write the note. Trust me, it's more than enough. Just be sure to send it AFTER grades have been turned in!

Works for me Wednesday

Whimsy

2011-05-17T09:38:00.000-04:00

At some point in the last couple of months, this tiara found its way to the bananas. Ever since that fateful night, each new bunch of bananas to join our family gets a crown.

I now find myself feeling a little sorry for any fruit without such adornment.

What images make you smile today?

The Boss Revealed

2011-05-12T08:56:00.000-04:00

I am Caution's hybrid Japanese Cherry Something Something else tree. See the graft scar from some would-be botanist or dendrologist or arborist a generation ago?

Forget Hollywood and its created beauty. Around here for two days every May, I am the center of the universe.

I am gorgeous.

I am fragrant.

I am worth the 363 day wait to see.

My owners try to take my picture. They focus conversation on my beauty. Then they all grab tissues. I pretend it is because they are moved by my beauty and ignore their complaints about pollens and such.

And then, all too quickly, I'm done.

Exhausted, I drop my petals and decorate for these people. Of course, it's not quite enough to compensate for their decorating choices, but I do my best.

I roll my tree eyes as Checkered repeatedly clears certain filters of my detritus,

and I smile inwardly as he relaxes thinking the worst is over.

You see, it's just a matter of weeks until the cherries come out and I invite every bird in the state of Michigan to come for the feast. It will be such fun to hear my people step on the pits and yell about their tender feet and grumble about the way the birds decorate the furniture.

I am Caution's hybrid Japanese Cherry Something Something else tree, and I seriously own this family.

Indulging in Memory

2011-05-11T08:56:00.000-04:00

My mother-in-law made fantastic mashed potatoes. I mean, they were so delicious that there were times the serving bowl was just about empty before it got to me. I used to be puzzled about why hers were so good and mine weren't. Peel, chop, boil, mash. How hard can that be?

Then one day she didn't shoo me out of the kitchen quickly enough and I learned the secret. While I used skim milk in my potatoes, she used real cream. While I used a thin slice of butter, she used entire sticks. While I may have occasionally added a small dollop of fat free sour cream, she used several ounces of the real stuff. Oh, those potatoes were lovely!

She has now been gone longer from this life than seems possible.

My boys have been raising money for the local Relay for Life. In a few days, we will go over to the event and we'll cheer for the survivors as they walk around the track, and light a luminary in memory of Grandma Judy, and then I think we'll come home and make some mashed potatoes her way.

Isn't it interesting how such seemingly insignificant things can mean so much years later?

Friday Fragments: Mother Nature I'm Not

2011-05-06T10:02:00.002-04:00

No thanks to iPhoto, I am here WITH pictures. While I practice controlled breathing to reduce my iPhoto anger, here's what's been happening in other parts of my life:

This week I should have enjoyed the rabbit siblings cavorting in my front yard. They have wrestled and jumped over each other. Very cute except they eat everything in the yard. So while others may have grabbed their cameras, I ran around chasing rabbits and yelling, "Go away!"

In another situation of poor housing choice, a fox has built a den next to a nursery. Unfortunately, it is on the property of my sons' elementary school. Can you imagine her confusion when 700 children descended on her home? Animal Control will be out next week to rehome the family.

Eight months ago, the asthma doctor decided that my son had outgrown asthma. This week a massive flare-up netted my boy this bag of meds. I suppose that belies the outgrowing it theory.

I just heard an interview with Jesse James. Know what? I still like Sandra Bullock better.
Know what else? I don't appreciate Pakistan telling us not to repeat our Navy Seal behavior in their land again.

We have a good pastor. He cares, he prays, he visits, he preaches well, and he reminds me a lot of my pastor dad. All said, I still probably wouldn't put this bumper sticker on my car.

This is my newest tree. It's a Forest Pansy Redbud. I have every hope that it will: survive, grow branches, and maybe straighten up. Until then, my neighbors continue to wonder why I planted a stick in my front yard.

Now, Mac users, please tell me how to get pictures from iPhoto to Blogger. Do you all use Picasa? It just seems so cumbersome. I am not feeling that Mac love right now. Actually, I want to punch it.

Perhaps I need to spend more time with Mrs. 4444's. She is tech-savvy and good with angry people. Okay, I'm headed there now. Why don't you come with me?

Running with the best of them

2011-05-04T09:01:00.001-04:00

He wishes he were on the varsity team, but he's not.

He wishes some of the coaches would stop talking about how important the varsity team is, but they haven't yet.

But he keeps running and jumping to the best of his ability.

We'd like to attribute that to his "never give up" disposition,

but we know it probably has more to do with the fact that girls don't care if a guy is varsity or junior varsity as long as he lets them wear his team hoodie.

During the last track meet, three girls won that honor.

Pretty good stats, me thinks.

He did it!

2011-05-02T09:53:00.000-04:00

I suppose last night's events in Pakistan will be debated for years to come, but in our family we have a victory no one needs to debate. You see, some times when a person does what he thought was way beyond his ability, it needs to be celebrated.

Our youngest boy likes football. But crowds? Social situations? Being noticed? Anything where people don't follow the rules? Well, those are a lot tougher for him. But after a lot of advice and treatment and thought, we signed him up for a six-week flag football league which began yesterday.

Low-pressure, everyone plays, no yelling coaches. All tailor-made for our boy.

But he was completely overwhelmed. It took two parents to get his cleats on. Two parents to help him walk into the stadium. Two parents who kept asking, "Did we do the right thing?"

Then we had our answer:

A game where our boy was told exactly what to do each play by a very encouraging and low-key coach. And our boy did everything his coach suggested. He hiked the ball. He carried the ball. He made two fourth-down "flag steals" to stop the other team's touchdowns. A final score of 6-6.

Afterward, he said he liked it a little bit and will go back next Sunday. And this morning when I saw him studying his schedule and talking about how many times he will play each team, I believed him.

P.S. Next week I promise to have Checkered's entire head in the picture.

Finally!

2011-04-25T10:23:00.003-04:00

Spring comes to Detroit...

...and all is well.

The heart of the matter

2011-04-20T06:25:00.009-04:00

He was not exactly overjoyed when his children dragged him into an especially bad part of the city to adopt a dog. He didn't celebrate when they picked out the sickest, skinniest one there. He didn't even smile when he paid more than anyone should pay for a dying puppy.

When she got healthy, she began to dig craters in his yard and steal more than her share of food from his counters. He now grumbles and rumbles at her, but she knows he's pure marshmallow inside.

And marshmallow is just about her favorite thing in the entire world.

The Happiness Project

2011-04-19T08:53:00.004-04:00

April 18, 2011

Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
Man never Is, but always To be blest:
The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come.

-Alexander Pope,
An Essay on Man, Epistle I, 1733

Your turn!

FF: I'm Still a Blogger!

2011-04-15T09:12:00.000-04:00

~After several weeks of repeatedly telling myself that I was done with blogging, I decided that maybe I'm not. I do, however, love my Mrs. 4444 so I'm fragmenting today.

~Did you hear about the metro Detroit man who is wheelchair bound, but paid $4,000 for a nudist cruise? He took a fall while on the cruise, and the cruise line kicked him off the ship saying he was not capable of caring for himself. He had to buy his own airline ticket home. That really is adding insult to injury.

~Yes, I said nudist cruise.

~I would very much like to learn to make empanadas. Why? Because I saw some on t.v. this morning at 5.

~You could show me ANYTHING at 5 a.m. and I will want to buy it. The Ninja blender is my new favorite purchase. Let's hope the Egg Genie is everything they say it is. Let's also hope I stop turning on the television that early.

~My students just completed an assignment that was designed to help them explore and define who they are. It was carefully constructed to give them ample ways of showing their charitable natures. It was also a dismal failure. It seems that if about 50% of my students were given unlimited funding to change society, they would buy a zebra.

~But who can blame them? Before a student may enroll in classes at my college, he or she must take a test to determine how well they read and write. Need directions to get to the room? Here's the guide:

I did not put that sign up, but I am the person who put my own watch on ... upside down. It took me until 10 or 4:30 (depending how I looked at it) to figure out the problem.

Now go! Visit Mrs. 4444's and give her a hug for me.

Plumbed

2011-04-11T18:56:00.004-04:00

I spend a lot of time thinking about toilets. I think about all those generations of people who had to brave blizzards, or snakes, or odors just to go. I think about all those families suffocating in tenements with more than fifty people sharing one broken toilet. I think about women carrying and emptying chamber pots - sometimes on the unsuspecting heads of people in the street below. I think about the masses moving westward with only an empty prairie as a sewer. And I think about all my intimate encounters with IBS as Checkered has sped through the hills of West Virginia or Colorado or Kentucky while I prayed for just one open rest stop.

Trust me, there is nothing that makes me quite as happy as my own indoor toilet.

What overlooked elements of your life make you happy today?

The Princess

2011-04-11T07:21:00.007-04:00

For sixteen years, she has filled our lives with love, dreams, beauty,

and a lot of sound.

We wouldn't change any of that for anything.

Happy birthday, sweet Lydia.

Where in the world is Caution?

2011-04-07T09:58:00.004-04:00

We have been enjoying our children's school break this week. Lots of fun eating, significant chlorine-induced asthma and skin rashes, an argument or two about who has to sit in the middle of the back seat, and a well-placed punch to the face while a daughter dreamed that she was fighting with her brother. My jaw has recovered nicely, thank-you.

In ten or so weeks, summer break starts.

Truthfully?

I can't wait !

So Much Better Than Cleaning

2011-04-04T07:32:00.001-04:00

I've flirted with it. Toyed with it a little. Even went out on a date or two. Now I'm thinking I'm ready to take it to the next level 'cause I think we have a lot in common.

I promise though that I won't be like the guy who dropped the F bomb about Detroit drivers even though he worked for a marketing group that had the Chrysler account.

Nor will I be like the guy who announced to his 2,000 followers that he was going out of town - and then returned home to a burglarized apartment...

...or the several who updated the world on their job interviews and forgot that their current employers tweeted, too.

Odds are against me finding 1,000,000 followers.

And I could find it more obsessive than my other social networking hobbies.

So I'm jumping in.

I'm a brand new tweeter.

How about you?

Slightly bothered by guilt

2011-03-31T06:50:00.008-04:00

I own a tree. A little Pine tree that is housed in a very nice travel coffee mug. (Oh, how I love travel mugs!) A little Pine tree that was a gift from the local car dealership that fixed the results of our recent icy-road encounter with another car. My sweet husband loves this body shop and says he has never worked with such superior customer service. And better still: they're GREEN! They heat their building with reclaimed motor oil and the energy that comes out of their machines! They use only water-based paints!! And they're soon installing wind turbines and solar panels!!!

Lovelylovelylovely in every way.

So now I have this little thank-you token.

Just between us? I despise Pine trees. There are three in the corner of my yard and I've been threatening to cut them down for eleven years. They just look so unkempt.

I really have thought about planting this new little life - on someone else's property. It's a cute baby, so I can't just throw it away, you know.

Maybe I'll sneak over to a patch of woods near my work tomorrow and if no one reports me for suspicious activity, I'll plant it there.

I DO love nature.

I DO love companies who work green.

I DO love most trees.

And I do really, really want to be able to use that travel mug.

What do I know?

2011-03-30T08:31:00.005-04:00

After all these years of parenting and teaching, I'm pretty adept at predicting the behavior of adolescents. The basic rule is this: if one deviates from the pack in appearance or behavior, he or she will be teased. Sometimes mildly and in fun and sometimes more determinedly and with true malice. I've seen it happen at work. I've seen it happen at home.

Yesterday the music teacher at our local elementary school suggested that her students dress nicely for their trip to the symphony today. I laid out khaki pants and a polo shirt for my boy, but he came walking down the stairs looking like this.

I worried about the reactions of the boys in his class who have bullied him a bit this year. Apparently he was a little worried, too, and he decided if the teasing got too bad he would just leave the jacket, tie, and vest in his backpack.

At the carpool stop, our passenger walked up to the car, looked at my son through the window and smirked. My boy put his head down and reiterated that he would probably take the jacket off right away. Then the other student got in the car and said,

"Dude, why didn't you tell me you were wearing a suit?! I wanted to wear mine but was scared to."

My boy walked into school afterward looking a lot taller and smiling like the self-actualized young man he already is.

How quickly can I get another appointment?

2011-03-29T08:40:00.003-04:00

My herniated disk and I have lived together for many years now in relative peace. Occasionally, it gets upset and says a cruel word or two to me, but other times it has a full-blown temper tantrum and screams and threatens to take hostages. A variety of doctors have given me their best advice, but truthfully? Nothing much helps. It's just a waiting game for the disk to get its temper back under control so we can go about our lives.

Then yesterday happened. An impulsive call to a chiropractor near our local 7-11. I figured if the treatment didn't work, I could at least console myself with a Slurpee. I sat in the waiting room second-guessing my decision. Our insurance doesn't cover it. Heavy-duty pain pills really can be lovely. I was almost ready to leave when it was my turn. I allowed that very nice man to push me around and pummel me a bit. He even strapped my ankles to a table and bounced me. I felt marginally better. And then I met the water table.

It looks just like this one, and it's one of the greatest gifts technology has given us. A water bed, a heater, rolling massage thingies. It was almost as good as warm, sunny April day with a gentle breeze. It may have only been ten minutes that I was allowed to use my new favorite friend, but if I could have moved quickly enough, I might have punched the chiropractor for telling me I had to leave.

I don't think my back was any better after I left the table, but those ten minutes?

Pure bliss.

What is making you happy this week?

A Gaggle of Girls

2011-03-23T20:13:00.005-04:00

Dear mothers of young daughters, listen well and heed my advice. Get thyselves to the store where friends are sold. Buy several dozen for your daughter. Do not worry about coupons. Do not try to shop sales. Be willing to pay full price. You must do this today.

You see, one day your little girl will be a teen-ager and she will come home and tell you that she and her boyfriend have parted company. You will think, "Who didn't see that coming?" but you will refrain and instead say, "Great!" Your daughter will gaze at you with eyes bathing in unshed tears, and then she will turn to her girlfriends. They will tell her that he was a:

jerk,

idiot,

loser,

and any number of more colorful descriptors.

You will try to tell her that these things happen. Her friends will march right up to him while he chats with his friends and demand to know just what he was thinking. They will send him dirty looks at lunch. They will blow-up his Facebook with mean comments.

You will tell her that she is beautiful. They will cry with her and fight over which of them will get to "marry" her so that her Facebook status won't have to say single.

You will assure her that she is talented and strong and ... they will tell her that the cute guy in geometry class likes her.

And later that night, when you spend a little time with the Lord, you will humbly thank him for sending friends such as these into your girl's life.

Revenge can be so sweet

2011-03-22T08:38:00.006-04:00

All year there has been division between the varsity and junior varsity choirs at our high school. I suppose the division is easy enough to understand, but much harder to accept - especially when the division gets snarky and my daughter is in the j.v.

"I'm having a party this week-end. Oh sorry! It's for varsity only."

"Hey, all the choir kids should eat lunch together. Oops! I meant varsity."

But despite the us and them mentality, both choirs had vocal ensembles which made it to the state finals last week. The varsity ensemble went first and received a second class rating. In all their wisdom, they lectured the junior varsity:

"We got only a 2, so since you're only the junior varsity, be prepared to get a 3 or even the lowest score: a 4."

Now don't you just love it? The junior varsity ensemble got the highest rating: a 1.

And to make it just a little sweeter, the junior varsity ensemble was ranked 4th in our division of the state. The varsity? Unranked.

When the varsity group posted on Facebook that their lives were ruined because they had lost to the "lesser" ensemble, well, I shook my head. But I have to admit, I smiled like a maniac, too.

To read about what makes other people happy, go visit Leigh.

FF: Living without a map

2011-03-17T18:17:00.011-04:00

~We had a spring day, and it's amazing what warmer weather will evoke. My boys were outside for hours wearing only shorts. The water guns were blazing, the basketballs were missing the net with abandon, and the trampoline was back in use. There is no happier music anywhere.

~I was glad my boys were outside because I was heartily singing, "S & M". I love the music but the lyrics?? Would it have been too much for her to sing about m&m's instead so I could sing it in public?

~This week has been my spring break and I've not accomplished much, but I am in a purging mood now, so watch out kitchen. I'm about to reclaim some cabinet space. I keep repeating, "If I haven't used it during the last year..."

!!!

~There are teachers whose style I don't want to emulate: my child is struggling with math class. Child always does the homework. Child asks us for help. Child works with tutor. Child has lost sleep over the the class. Parents have had conferences with teacher. Yesterday the teacher told the class that anyone with a low grade was obviously making no effort. Did we miss something there???

~Have you seen the barn door style used as interior sliding doors? ~I LOVELOVELOVE barn motifs, and have spent years lobbying for barn lights in my house. Checkered hasn't budged on his refusal. I'm thinking I might back off the lighting request in a ploy to get those doors. Who says collective bargaining no longer thrives here?

~Here's a not-so-lovely factoid: of all the American jobs lost in the last decade, 50% were Michigan jobs.

~And now, because warmer weather calls for changes...

...I've never colored my hair myself but today is THE day. Any hints ?

~Here are two places you must visit: Mrs. 4444's, of course, and my friend Susan. (At Susan's blog, click the post title to bring up the comments page.) When you see Susan, please thank her for enduring my incessant chatter during our sons' karate class.

Open Eyes

2011-03-15T09:18:00.006-04:00

Jerry works as a bagger at a Kroger nearby. He is exceptionally friendly and engages me in conversation. That conversation always revolves around these topics:

he is 55,

he loves the show, Charmed,

he hopes to be the ball boy for the Detroit Pistons,

and

he really, really wants to be Boy Scout.

Most of the time Jerry is talking, I spend fretting because I've spent way too much on my purchases. I look at the things we could have done without, but they are things my kids love. Those four children always smile when I walk in with some of their favorite treats. So while I've spent far more than I should have, I did it to show my children how much I love them.

Yesterday Jerry put several packages of meat on top of a carton of eggs. He dropped the milk on top of the meat, and I felt my annoyance couple with my anxiety about the final bill. I was late to pick up one of my sons, but Jerry was only to the ball boy part of his discussion and I may have sighed.

And then it happened with no warning. I had an epiphany.

I was reminded that Jerry is as precious to the Lord as my own children are to me.

That thought literally rooted me to the floor.

With one last toss of a box of Clementines on top of a delicate and ridiculously expensive bag of apple chips meant for my son, Jerry reminded me:

"Ma'am, I really want to be a Boy Scout."

He didn't even seem alarmed at the motionless woman who stood there smiling and discreetly dabbing the tears in her eyes.

Another Reason to Love a Grandma

2011-03-08T07:09:00.006-05:00

My four children have never been great sleepers. It began when the first child was born and decided that there was so much more to life than sleeping. That message was passed along to each of her three younger brothers and left me absolutely exhausted.

I would call my mom and complain and she would say,

"Bring them to Kentucky. They'll sleep here."

We would pack up and spend the day traveling and when we arrived I would warn again,

"They never sleep through the night."

My mom would cuddle up with her grandbabies and begin to rock, and then sleep would win.

And, yes, they always slept through the night.

Those babies are well on their way to growing up now, but they still say there's no sleep as wonderful as a Kentucky sleep.

Proof Positive

2011-03-03T20:35:00.003-05:00

No one ever recruited me to work in a science department. No one ever begged me to work for a police department. And no one ever asked me to write a book on theology or geometry, but I am an expert on all things that need proving.

For example:

Case one ~ siblings can deliberately share strep

Last week middle boy with strep took a mouthful of his drink and then leaned over emptied the straw into his brother's glass all while the brother continued to drink. This week the brother has strep.

Case two ~ I chose the right profession

...except I've been doubting that lately. Then on Tuesday a former student ran across a parking lot to hug me. That hug was worth all the students who don't run across anything to hug me.

Case three ~ Facebook is wonderful

My sister "found" my first best friend this week via Facebook. It has been...gulp...40 years, but I would still recognize her anywhere.

Case four ~ I am a weather expert

March at 25 degrees is far colder than January at 25 degrees. Trust me.

Case five ~ One can repeat underwear without major consequence

I suggested to my youngest son that since he had worn the same underwear for two days, it was time to change. He replied, "To be precise, I've been wearing this pair for two weeks and I'm still okay." He was right, of course, unless we count the deliberate strep. Somehow I doubt that the two are connected.

And the last case: after two weeks of minimal blogging I have learned that I can survive without blogging, but I really can't survive without bloggers. Thanks to all of you who brighten my days :)

He thinks he is in charge

2011-03-01T07:04:00.000-05:00

For months he was adamant that after Cub Scouts, he would never again be a scout.

Never ever. EVER!

Then he received:

1 Arrow of Light award

and was invited to

1 "top-secret" meeting with the Boy Scout leader and some older boys who revealed some of the information known only to the "chosen".

He completed Cub Scouts just over one week ago.

In the last seven days, he has attended two events for "his" new Boy Scout troop and bragged just a little to his friends.

Patience and biting one's tongue are equal virtues - in my book anyway.

For more happy thoughts, go see Leigh.

Putting a ban on the kitchen

2011-02-28T08:48:00.000-05:00

This is a little souvenir from the time I accidentally turned on the burner that the loaf of bread was on. Now I'm thinking that the melted plastic actually makes the burner look a little cleaner.

This is a little memento from the time I assured my son that he absolutely WAS old enough to take something out of the oven.

If it's true that with three strikes I'll be out, I guess I should stay away from the kitchen for a while.

Just giving everyone fair notice.

Westward ho! (and keep your mind out of the gutter)

2011-02-22T08:37:00.005-05:00

What has brought me happiness?

The blue ski blessing us as we fly across the prairie to kiss the wind.

That there is a pop-up camper following us is another matter...

Maybe it's just my poor pronunciation,

2011-02-15T06:47:00.002-05:00

...but does this seem like the most promising name for a restaurant?

For other reasons to smile, go see Leigh.

Could you maybe have warned me?

2011-02-14T07:02:00.001-05:00

It really might have been nice if you mothers of daughters older than mine could have warned me. Maybe then I might have been prepared. I might have put aside a little energy each energy payday so that my account would have been full. Maybe you could have coached me a little louder from the sidelines or offered me a game plan. But you didn't.

You left me to learn it all on my own and to fight my way through the training, with an occasional wrong turn.

Why didn't you tell me that when a daughter is old enough to go to high school dances, that there would be dress shopping, accessory shopping, hair appointments, nail appointments, boutonniere ordering, picture arrangements, dinner arrangements, and massive housecleaning when the picture arrangements mistakenly happen at MY house?

You might have hinted at the need for the little chats reminding our daughters of their worth and their futures and their values that will outlive this night and this date.

And it would have been okay if you had sent me an email telling me that by the time the doorbell rang, the dad's only job would be to shake the young man's hand while the mom would need two years of sleep to recover - but only after that precious daughter had been safely delivered back to her nicely-cleaned home after her unfairly early curfew.

FF: There's always someone crazier

2011-02-11T07:00:00.004-05:00

This has been a LONG week full of craziness in our area, and although it's Friday, I suspect that some of that insanity may well continue through the week-end. So what's got my dander up?? I'll tell you!

~I am fed up with the parent at my children's school who careens into the parking lot each day and then lays on her horn in an attempt to get other drivers who are already parked to move their cars so she can more easily park.

~I am fed up with students who bombard me with email the very same day essays are turned in. No, I will not have 60 multi-page essays graded the same day they are submitted.

Okay, the fed up section is over. Now it's on to the confusion section.

~I am confused at the national surveys which determined this week that I do NOT live in one of the ten saddest cities, but that I DO live in the angriest city.

~Did you hear about the woman who tried to express mail a puppy? When the post office workers saw the box moving on its own, they got suspicious. The woman was tracked down and fined. She then tried to get her $20 shipped expense refunded.

~Then there's the Michigan driver who was driving while intoxicated. The driver called 911 to have someone to chat with and keep her company during her drive home. The dispatcher asked the driver if she was intoxicated, and the driver answered, "Absolutely!"

~Did you know that people are actually contributing money to a fund so that a statue of RoboCop can be built in Detroit? What could possibly be of more cultural value than that?

~Before you look at this picture of a bus from our school district, understand that the bus WAS legally stopped far enough back from what is a confusing train crossing. Now look at that crossing bar ON TOP of the bus. Kind of alarming, isn't is?

And finally we move to the most unsettling section:

~I was tying my child's shoe this week when he said, "Mommy, you have a whitehead." Cursing perimenopause, I dropped his laces and rushed to the mirror wondering how best to treat the acne he had noticed. What?? No blemishes anywhere on my face. But on my head? Lots of hair in need of a good color.

Some days I just can't win.

If you are sufficiently unsettled, head over the visit Mrs. 4444's. You'll find other fragmenters of similar ilk.

Unexpected Half-Times

2011-02-08T08:33:00.005-05:00

I had a bad attitude about the Superbowl. I really did. You see, our church hosted a Superbowl party and the half-time show was to be turned off so we could hear a Michigan State football player share his faith journey. I really wanted to see the Black Eyed Peas instead (even though I may have referred to them as the Green Eyed Peas earlier that day.) When we got to the party, it was poorly attended, and that annoyed me, too.

But then I started to listen and to talk with Otis Wiley and his fiance, and I was truly impressed with their graciousness and their tender hearts. But most of all, I loved their passion for Christ. These two people will make a positive difference in this world well beyond football. Now my middle boy has a real football player - and a very fine man - he thinks of as his new friend.

I am so very glad we went to that party.

Now go see what makes everyone else happy today.

FF: The Nots Have It

2011-02-03T20:56:00.011-05:00

* My youngest son survived his birthday party even though he did NOT want a party. He brightened considerably when I suggested a Nerf war and he realized he could fire at will. Do NOT lecture me on the gun thing, okay?
*My middle son did dress up for his brother's party, but was distraught on Sunday morning when he could NOT find his accessory just before we left for church. Hope springs eternal, however, because he FOUND it yesterday and another Sunday is right around the corner.

*At last count, I had more friends and acquaintances name Suzanne or Susan than any other name.

*My oldest son was part of a brass trio who a) got superior ratings for a competition last week and b) were invited to play at the elementary schools yesterday to recruit the incoming 6th graders for band. I had ~~threatened~~ encouraged my middle son to NOT make fun of his older brother. When the trio began to play, my middle son was horrified! He remembered my threats and thought furiously of what neutral comment he could make regarding their terrible playing. He was SOOOOOO relieved when he realized they were tuning and NOT really playing yet.

*Following the tour of elementary schools, the band director, guidance counselor, and principal all took the trio to McDonalds for breakfast and I thought that was uber cool. They did NOT invite me to go with them, however.

*My daughter told me all about a poop dryer her friend has. I could NOT understand my daughter's fascination until about 10 minutes later when I figured out that she had said, "Boot" dryer.

*No. I do NOT need a hearing aid, but that does remind me of how my nephew once asked for a hearing aid for Christmas. I think he was being a bit of smarty pants. He didn't know whether to be horrified or delighted when his grandfather made sure Santa delivered an old hearing aid on Christmas morning.

*And lastly, I have learned that boxers canNOT wear earrings, and thus ends any threat of me getting into boxing. Let all hearts rest more easily.

In order to assuage your disappointment from that last fragment, go visit Mrs. 4444's. She has an unlimited measure of energy and Green Bay enthusiasm.

A New Friend for YOU!

2011-02-03T07:15:00.002-05:00

How is it that someone's good news can so often be sad news for someone else?

Here's an example of how that conundrum is playing out in this house:

Susan is lovely and a fairly new friend for me. She is a mom of a child who befriended my youngest son when he desperately needed someone to do that.

She is also a military wife and will soon leave our snow-bound state for another assignment much closer to her own family. It's happy news for her. Not so much for the entire state of Michigan.

Susan is a talented photographer, writer, AND BLOGGER!!

Would you do me a favor? Stop by http://alongfortheride-susan.blogspot.com/ and show her some blogger love (and fall in love with her breathtakingly beautiful children.) And while you're at it, tell her something wonderfully positive about me the state of Michigan.

Sincerely,

Caution

aka

a not so gifted photographer

I Sing the Praises of Facebook

2011-02-01T06:06:00.003-05:00

So you want to know what I like about Facebook? How about this:

Before FB, I knew her as another neighbor, the mom of my son's friend, and the wife of Keith's scouting buddy.

Since FB, I've learned she is a grammar maven, a compassionate soul, a mean cube-truck driver, and a razor-sharp wit. But best of all? She's my friend.

For more happiness, visit Leigh

Perfection

2011-01-31T06:24:00.007-05:00

Have you ever met someone so self-effacing, so sweet, so loyal and clever that you wondered how you existed before you knew him?

That happened to us nine years ago today. What an amazing bonus blessing baby he is!

And that he wants an Apple Betty for his cake, is just so ... him.

Landing on the Positive Side

2011-01-28T06:57:00.004-05:00

I am highly annoyed this week. And rather than keep all those annoyances to myself, I'm going to be gracious beyond measure and share them with you.

-Of all the sounds I cannot tolerate, open-mouthed chewing is the worst. It's so bad that I dream of duct-taping any offender. With that in mind, imagine this: I have a student this term who sits in the front row and chews her gum as though she means to kill it. Open-mouth gum chewing. Loud. Juicy. Distracting enough that I try to make eye contact with her as a means of shushing her. But every time I try that, she smiles sweetly and continues right on smacking away.

-Next on my list of annoyances would be driving on the newly snowy driveway without first shoveling. I always try to shovel two little tracks at least if I don't have time to shovel everything first. I despise the packed snow/ice effect of not shoveling.

-Sit-ups. Hate 'em. My lower back says it will file for divorce if ever again I try one.

-Cool kids and the power each of my children gives them.

STOP!! I can't continue this way. By nature, I am a glass half-empty thinker but by choice I am a glass half-full thinker, so I've got to turn this post around.

-The student has a wonderful attitude and if I talk louder during my teaching, I will hear her gum-chewing less.

-Chemicals work fairly well on the packed snow tracks on the driveway.

-Instead of sit-ups, I've been doing leg raises. I lie on my back and raise my legs to a 90 degree position. Then I slowly lower them almost to the floor and then start all over again. YES! My stomach is sore and that is GREAT news.

-I happen to think my kids ARE cool. Someday they will believe me.

AND now for bonus positive material:

My 11 year old son casually announced that he will be wearing a moustache to church on Sunday. He said it as though we were discussing a nice shirt or pair of shoes. I will surely post a picture when that happens.

What annoys you AND what do you do to compensate?

Time to go visit Mrs. 4444's. She can fix any annoyance.

Vetoed!

2011-01-27T08:27:00.006-05:00

Some time after his dad stumbled toward a very early shower, this guy climbed into his dad's spot in bed. He pulled the quilts up high. Turned the pillows a few times to get them just right. Picked up the remote and changed the t.v. channel away from the news and to Cartoon Network. Then because he is quite verbally gifted, he began a vivid description of how sick he was. A head filled with knives piercing his skull. A throat burning with lava. Aches and pains so overwhelming for a newly-turned eleven year old.

At first I thought it was sweet that he knew I would comfort him. Afterall, is there any worse feeling than a terrible cold during the first few hours of the morning?

And when his still innocent voice asked, "Mommy, am I staying home from school today," I thought about his head and throat. I thought about how horrid he felt. I thought about how fortunate I am to work only part-time for days such as this.

But right before I could melt, he discreetly wiped his nose on his father's pillow.

He has now been safely delivered to school.

Guess which one...

2011-01-25T09:30:00.003-05:00

My Happiness Project entry ~ my girls, one of whom is NOT allowed on the furniture.

Do you allow your loved ones to sit on your furniture?

When's there's absolutely nothing else to do ...

2011-01-24T10:02:00.006-05:00

Sunday afternoon. Dad was assigned the assemblage of a monster Lego project. End of the term for the kids, so no homework. A broken phone which refused to tell my daughter that her boyfriend wanted to watch "Titanic" with her (he wants to impress her, I guess), a son who likes to cook, and a mom who was feeling domestic. The result?

The family had a lot to say about the pretzels.

"Very good!"

"Tastes like the real thing" ??

But the comment which confused me most?

"Tastes just like corn on the cob."

FF: The State of Me

2011-01-21T06:06:00.003-05:00

Our Friday Fragments this week are courtesy of the STATE OF MICHIGAN, whose motto isn't the most poetic or catchy: "If you seek a pleasant peninsula, look about you!!"

So what's happening in Michigan these days?

A serial rapist from Detroit was arrested. That was wonderful news to all, but puzzling news to his relative who was interviewed by a local reporter. What reason would there be for this man to rape multiple times, she wondered, when he already had a girlfriend?
We have a new governor. He's a businessman not a career politician, and I suspect that he is brilliant and may well fix a few things in the next four years. However, he doesn't like to wear neckties and that greatly concerns some people - including a former governor.
I did a lesson with the Cub Scouts last night on many Michigan trivia matters. It turns out that several of those elementary school boys think our state bird is a PIGEON.
Just so you know, it's a robin.

Do you remember the Michigan man who rejected the $150,000 settlement after he used a screwdriver to open a jar of Dole fruit and was hit in the eye by the lid and supposedly rendered unconscious? He received a second settlement offer and accepted this one.
I've put my head very close to each can of fruit I've opened in the last few weeks, but no luck thus far...
I just heard the term, downsizing a friendship, this week. Isn't that a marvelous phrase?
Have you ever downsized a friendship because your children no longer associated with your friend's children?
Now to bring this back to Michigan. I did a 9.57 minute mile on the elliptical this week. Before Christmas I was doing 20 minute miles, so laugh if you will at my 9.57, be terribly frightened of the noises I made while being so QUICK, and know that my clothing isn't any looser as a result. BUT WHO CARES???
Okay, I'll admit that Michigan got a little lost there, SO while I go find more pleasant peninsula related items, maybe you could go visit Mrs. 4444's . You won't be disappointed with her fragmented mind!

The Man Who Changed My Life, Part 1

2011-01-20T06:06:00.003-05:00

When I decided to get a doctorate, I compiled a list of schools who offered the degree I wanted. There were approximately 20 schools and I began to research each school and dream a little about what life would be like there. I contacted each school - except for one. That school got moved to the very bottom of my list simply by virtue of its location. After all, who would voluntarily move to Detroit?

One day, after an interesting few hours subbing at the local elementary school, I came home to a quiet house and glanced at the list. There it was: the lone school I was NOT interested in pursuing. But I had been praying and asking the Lord for guidance in the decision process, and as I looked at that list, I felt compelled to call Wayne State University.

It was a nervous Kentucky girl who dialed those numbers and was greeted by a voice on the other end who promptly told me that I had been given the wrong number. I asked for the correct number, but the person I was speaking to said I couldn't hang up. "Tell me about you. Tell me about your background. Tell me about your educational dreams." I was puzzled and still a little nervous. After a few minutes, the voice boomed from the end, "Some people collect baseball cards. Some collect coins. You apparently collect master's degrees." I didn't know if I should be embarrassed or should laugh.

At the end of thirty minutes, the call ended and my mom walked in from her job as a high school guidance counselor. I announced, "I'm moving to Detroit and I'm going to study with a man named Dr. Martinez."

Within months, I was here - where I planned to earn my doctorate and then move to some exotic locale.

I got that doctorate. I'm still here twenty-something years later. And boy oh boy, did I ever get an education!

While you wait for the next riveting installment of this blog, go visit a few of my blogging friends:

Making Do...

2011-01-19T08:34:00.003-05:00

I may have exaggerated a bit when I put this up near the front door:

So until things improve, we will enjoy some of this:

What's your favorite way to beat the cold?

Pass the air freshener, please

2011-01-13T18:34:00.010-05:00

I would like to blame Friday for the fact that I think in nothing but fragments, but that would be unfair to the other six days of the week when my mind works exactly the same way. Here's just a glimpse of how that thinking goes:

-When my youngest son came out of school the other day, he had his boots on the wrong feet and I was struck by how much I will miss that innocence as he gets older.

-My husband and I shoveled our neighbor's walk and driveway after our first big snow of the season, and then she insisted on paying me. That she confused me with my 13 year old son has left me feeling a little unsettled.

-Need a good lotion for hands? Try this: It's packaged horribly unattractively and could use a better name, but it works beautifully for hands and legs and all those other brutally dry skin areas.

-As I rushed out the door to work yesterday, I started to put my wallet in my backpack when I realized that I was carrying a roll of toilet tissue and not a wallet. I am so glad that I noticed that before I got to work.

-This was the first week of classes for my students. On the first day, after spending about 45 minutes discussing our ENGLISH course, and what ENGLISH texts they would need, and how we will be doing grammar because it is an ENGLISH course, and how I have four degrees in ENGLISH, I asked what questions the students had. One waved her arm frantically and said, "I think I'm in the wrong place. I'm supposed to be in an English not a phys ed class." It's going to be a long semester.

-I heard a lyric the other day but don't know what song it was from. It really made me do some soul-searching. The line was something like, "I don't want someone else to do what it is He's asked of me." I might have the line completely wrong, but don't correct me because I really like the way I remember it.

Now, while you go visit Mrs. 4444's to read other fragments, I am going to find a way to get the smell of burned plastic out of my house. I so wish I hadn't accidentally put a loaf of bread on a hot burner this morning.

My Multi-tasking Girl

2011-01-12T08:48:00.003-05:00

Remember, Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, but backwards and in high heels. ~Faith Whittlesey

So Much Bigger Than Arizona

2011-01-10T08:46:00.007-05:00

I am sickened as I learn more about the Arizona shooting. How many adjectives are there to describe it? Horrific. Sick. Terrifying. Senseless. Surely this page could be filled with more. And surely my prayers, like those of so many others, are being sent for the families of those taken too soon and for the recovery of Congresswoman Giffords.

But the more I learn about this attack, the more frustrated I am that so much media coverage has been given to the reactions of other elected officials. "Stay tuned to hear what our Michigan legislators have to say about the shooting and what they're doing to protect themselves," was offered on last night's news. This morning I read that Congress is delaying business today as they work toward better safeguards for themselves. Yes, they need safeguards, but would there be a break in business today if Congresswoman Giffords had not been one of the victims? Would Congress be grappling to find solutions if this had been yet another campus shooting or workplace rampage?

I live in a metropolitan area where shootings are so common that they don't always make the news. Rage and gun response is getting as familiar in the suburbs as it is in the city. If a solution exists, I don't know what it is. But I do know we have all become a little immune to the news of a shooting. We all shake our heads and feel the chill of wondering if the next one will be in our neighborhood or our school or our business. And then life returns to normal - as it should - except for those left to grieve.

So, dear elected officials, please don't make this tragedy just about you. It's about the loss of all innocent lives. It's about every parent who buries a child, every spouse who buries a soul mate, every man or woman who buries a friend because someone decided to make his or her community pay for a perceived injustice.

Today, when work is put aside so Congress can focus on better safeguarding its members, please remember those for whom the flag will never be lowered and for whom a moment of silence will never be offered.

FF: Majoring in the UPPER CASE

2011-01-07T09:57:00.000-05:00

To be completely fragmented:

-On Christmas day, my child asked if he could have a part in rolling the crescent rolls. Unfortunately, it was after he had finished that I realized he thought we were making pretzels.

-Why do non-drowsy allergy meds still turn my son into a zombie?

-I need to remember to turn the volume back up on my phone during the day. The silence in the house has been lovely though with the phone off :)

-No egg cookers coming to our house anytime soon...but have I told you about my Healthy Swinger gizmo?

-Do any of you know where I put my reading glasses? No! They are NOT on top of my head.

-I am on the website, Rate my professor. It is with great sorrow that I admit I score low in the hotness category. Who cares if I'm really nice, if the class is fun, or the students learned a lot? I WANT TO BE HOT!!!

-During the holidays we bought a Glade plug-in air freshener. Yesterday the two youngest boys said, "FINALLY our house has its own smell!" I never dreamed that we were lacking in that department.

-And now to finish with a happy thought. My veryveryveryveryvery tight pants are on today. AND THE ZIPPER GOES HALFWAY UP!!

-I may be inflated, but I'm also slightly elated. Hope your Friday brings you equally good news.

Even though I do own a camera of my own...

2011-01-06T09:01:00.005-05:00

...if I were profoundly rich, I would buy Shutterbooth. Then I would take one of their photobooths with me on the road to better document each time I meet a blogger in real life. Alas, I'm not rich, so I have to wait until my son's karate banquet each December to have fun. Here are this year's takes.

Would you get into a photo booth with me?

Green Dreams

2011-01-04T07:10:00.004-05:00

My thumb is as green as my attention span is long. What does that mean? There's not even a hint of green on my thumb. Fortunately, that doesn't stop me from trying. Each winter when the first seed catalog arrives, my hopes are renewed, my enthusiasm recharged, and my garden plans ridiculous.

I'll order. I'll plant. I'll even water - for a while. Then I'll spend the rest of the growing season feeling guilty about my dying, weed-encroached garden.

Then January will arrive, and the process will start all over again.

I couldn't be happier!

What makes you happy today?

Gullible

2011-01-03T08:32:00.007-05:00

I have become a sucker for all things kitchen gadgety. If it's fairly small and goes in the kitchen, I like it. If it makes cooking easier, I feel affection for it. If it has a plug, well then, I love it. My cabinets are full. My pantry/laundry room is a mess. My counter tops are space-starved. But I'm ready to buy again.

You see, my kids love eggs and hard boiled is their new style of choice. So I've been shopping.

I've been looking at things like this that stand alone:

And things like this that work in the microwave:

I know. I know!! This:
is cheaper and stores nicely and I already own it. But it doesn't have its own plug.

So fess up. Tell me all about your egg cookers.

Glory to God in the Highest

2010-12-20T10:30:00.003-05:00

Caution Needs to Get Moving

2010-12-17T07:04:00.004-05:00

>Am I the only one with Nerf bullets ALL OVER my house?

>I am already mourning the loss of the Discovery Health channel. No, Oprah. I am not excited about an entire channel devoted to your favorite things when I could be spending time watching gory medical drama and sappy birth stories.

>Santa Claus came to visit the Cub Scouts at last night's meeting. My child says Santa's breath smelled like beer.

>During one of our two snow days this week, I devoted myself to making homemade cinnamon rolls. After all that work, my children asked if we could have the ones from the store next time.

>Did you know that a relationship is not official until it's on Facebook? The big question around the local high school is, "Are you guys FB official?"

>I saw the ugliest shoes in the Lands' End catalog. Hideously ugly. I also bought a pair.

>My son has texted his father 30 times. He has texted "Kelly" 300 times during the same time. In other words, things are as they should be.

>Please tell me why the bottom crust of my apple pies always seem to be a little soggy. I love to use juicy apples, but is sogginess the price the pie has to pay?

>To finish up with a bit of embarrassing news: this week we received a Christmas card but didn't know who the people were who had signed it. The embarrassing part? It was from our neighbors. More embarrassing? The same thing happened last year.

>Need to find like-minded people who spend Fridays majoring in the minors of life's fragments? Go visit Mrs. 4444. I promise that you'll love her.

See you all after the holidays (so I threaten).

Merry Christmas!!

The Sing Off

2010-12-15T06:47:00.003-05:00

We're making history here. Our entire family is following a t.v. show together. Such is the pull of The Sing Off. With almost every group, I have to remind myself that the music I'm hearing is not instrumental. How can those a cappella singers produce all that percussion and even a saxophone or two in addition to those incredible harmonies?

But please tell me this. Why is Jerry Lawson and his group still on the show? The judges have critiqued every other VERY talented group, but offer nothing to Lawson's group but praise - even when they sing every song the same way.

So where's my money? I like Committed (the Alabama group who learned to sing in church) and my daughter likes Street Corner Symphony (the Nashville guys.) Poor Checkered. His favorite, Groove for Thought, is now history.

Okay, I'm listening now. Who is going to win?

Phone Apps

2010-12-14T08:18:00.004-05:00

So Leigh wants to know what makes me happy this week. Forget the organizers and shopping helpers and news links on my phone. My current favorite app is:

I canNOT stop playing!
Do you have a favorite phone app? Tell me! I will need something else to do when I beat this game :)

No School!

2010-12-13T11:14:00.003-05:00

A smattering of snow ~

Icy roads~

Single digit temps~

Chili in the crock pot~

Cookies in the oven~

Christmas music in the air~

and

A little extra time to finish that forgotten homework!

All is well.

Very, very well.

FF: A Montage of Mediocre Christmas Spirit

2010-12-09T18:11:00.011-05:00

It's been a crazy, busy week here as we have careened from activity to activity. Here's a snippet.

The child earned his whittlin' chip at Scouts:

Then he conquered a huge hurdle by having a part in the school Christmas program. He was an excellent spinning dreydl.

The other guy was the narrator at that program. He wanted a tux, but got a suit instead.

This girl got trampled by bronchitis and asthma, but got a good grade on her AP history test anyway :)

These two danced to their own music.

But no one offered to grade my students' quizzes.

So bah humbug.

In the next 24 hours:

a doctor's appointment

an anniversary

a birthday

a scout field trip

a play rehearsal

a party

Yes, definitely, bah humbug.

Maybe you'll find more Christmas spirit over at Mrs. 4's place.

Yes, we sang to each other while my dad watched...

2010-12-09T06:06:00.001-05:00

My dearest Checkered,

Do you remember that night so many years ago when we took your boat across the lake? Remember how my parents were here from Kentucky and my aunt and uncle were here from Florida and you wanted to make a good impression? Remember how the waves kicked up just as you were trying to tie the boat to the dock at the restaurant? Remember how you lost your footing and fell into the lake? Remember how we laughed (my aunt and I might have laughed hysterically, but my parents were much more concerned about your safety.) Remember how you had to put on old sweats and a t-shirt you found in the boat and had to eat wearing soaking wet shoes? Remember how you laughed at yourself and were entirely gracious?

That was the night I realized that you would be the most wonderful husband in the whole world. Seventeen years later, you have proven that to be true again and again and again.

Happy early, early anniversary!

BUSTED (with no reference to female anatomy)

2010-12-06T06:06:00.002-05:00

My first child made a mistake when she was in middle school. She admitted that her friends liked me. No, let me correctly quote her: they "LOVED" me. She also admitted her own puzzlement at that oddity. Then my second child entered the teen years and a couple of his buddies sent me Facebook friend requests and they sometimes comment on my status (which really should make me filter my comments, now that I think about it.) So I was comfortable with being cool.

My third child has told me from his first breath that I was not cool, but I'll forgive him for his lack of understanding.

Then my final child wondered into the world and asked how many words I knew how to say while I burped. I thought about it and proudly answered that I could say one word while burping.

"That's it?" he replied. Shoulders slumping, head down in shame, he turned to leave the room and I saw the error of my ways.

"Wait!" I cried. "I'm sure I can learn lots more if I just practice a little."

My coolness confidence was busted, and this child who came into the world without any pain meds for his mother walked out of the room, leaving a broken shell where his mother's coolness used to be.

FF: Emotional Roller Coaster

2010-12-02T13:51:00.006-05:00

*SO there's a difference between clarified and softened butter? Is that why my cookie dough became pudding?

The butter problem didn't matter too much though because 1) my phone rang, 2) I multi tasked and tried to peel potatoes while baking and talking and the peeler slipped - ouch! and then 3) we got involved looking at the potato that looked like a butt.

The smoke reminded me that I forgot to set the oven timer.

*Know what makes me sad? People who say, "Of course we budgeted for Christmas. Didn't you?"

*Know what makes me sadder? The dad who told me that he has $100,000 in his daughter's college fund. She just began high school.

*Know what makes me saddest? That Weight Watchers works better than any diet pill. That one really could make me cry.

*Do any of you know where I safely stored the decal I bought for Christmas decorating that says something about such a big miracle in such a small baby?? I'm hoping to find it before we take the decorations down.

*My youngest son's teacher is doing something quite lovely in class. Each child has a secret pal this month. They are to look for positive ways to enhance the other child's day and then next week, each child will write a letter of affirmation to his or her secret pal. Wouldn't you like to be in that class?

*On a similar note, my extremely strong-will child was destroying my day this week. Everything was an argument and he wasn't about to give in at all on anything. A very nice woman watched my child assert his will aggressively, and then the woman turned to me and said, "You know, don't you, that this doesn't mean you're a bad mom?" My heart was warmed by her spontaneous affirmation.

Has anyone warmed your heart this week ?

Who Says It's Not All About Winning?

2010-11-30T09:07:00.000-05:00

I see my parents and sisters and their families only a handful of times every year, so each moment with them is important to me. We talk and eat, but the part I love best is that when these guys are doing this:

some of us are doing this:

What makes you happy about family reunions?

And They're Good Cooks, too!

2010-11-24T08:58:00.000-05:00

There is much for which I am thankful.

~ Experiences, friends, memories, material goods, the grace of the Lord ~

But today I am especially thankful for the fact

that the people who have known me the longest are still happy to see me.

Throwing Caution to the Wind and Surviving

2010-11-23T08:44:00.000-05:00

After twenty years of making apple pie the same way, I got brave and tried a new recipe. A little too much nutmeg for me, but that didn't seem to matter to anyone else in the family.

Christmas? Bring it!

2010-11-22T09:09:00.001-05:00

Yes!!!

We are ready!!

That no shopping has been done...

...is just a minor inconvenience.

Okay. Maybe it's a major inconvenience, but I won't think about that today.

A Medical Maven I'm Not

2010-11-20T06:06:00.001-05:00

For two months he has said, "My heel really hurts."

And I said, "Uh huh."

But I thought, "It's just a little bruise thing. It's not a big deal."

After school on Friday, I gave in and took him to the doctor even though I dreaded the bill that would follow in the mail.

I heard the doctor say,

"Growth plate injury."

"Very serious."

"Risk of permanent damage without treatment."

"Very glad you brought him in when you did."

That's when I had to eat my words, both spoken and unspoken.

FF: All Around My Brain

2010-11-18T10:27:00.005-05:00

**I had to drive my 10 year old somewhere on a very dark, rainy, and foggy night and absent-mindedly sang along with the radio. After we arrived at our destination, my son said, "Thanks for the completely inappropriate entertainment." I was totally confused until I realized that I had been singing the 1991 Divinyls hit. I can't even bring myself to type the title.

**We had a Weight Watchers friendly Beef Stroganoff this week. The non-friendly version would have tasted much better.

**Walmart!! Order more of this soap. It is lovely.

**My teen boy says he doesn't know what I see in Bruce Springsteen. I'll admit that I'm glad he doesn't. But, Bruce? Keep your politics to yourself.

**How do those protesters from Westboro Baptist Church sleep at night????

**Would you consider sharing a dog? It is a popular trend now. Two families share expenses and time with the dog. If the families live very near each other, it's even better. The dogs supposedly get to know the routine and will wait at the door when it's time to go to the second family.

**That makes me wonder how people manage to live double lives with two different families. How do they not go crazy trying to keep details straight? FYI: no personal references being hinted at here.

**And in the mindset of what was he thinking: In the metro Detroit area a man has rejected a $150,000 settlement offer after he used a screwdriver to open a jar of Del Monte fruit and the lid flew off and hit his eye rendering him unconscious.

**This week's fragments brought to you by Mrs. 4444's, who will no doubt be sad after the Michigan-Wisconsin game tomorrow.

What's so hard about getting up at 4?

2010-11-18T07:26:00.000-05:00

He was sure that if he did not go hunting with his dad and brother that he would miss something really exciting.

He needn't have worried.

The good news was that he was a little better rested than the other guys when they arrived home empty-handed.

Begging Your Pardon

2010-11-15T07:02:00.001-05:00

My daughter and I stopped at Walgreen's the other night for a hairbrush. And some ponytail elastics. And maybe some moisturizer. And...you know how that goes.

As soon as we walked into the store an employee blocked our path and asked me two questions. Her English was heavily accented, so I asked her to repeat the questions. When it was clear that I wasn't going to understand what she was saying, I got nervous and answered, "Yes!" to the first and, "No!" to the second. I walked around her, but she began to walk right behind me. At no time was she more than a few inches from me. Seriously. I could hear her breathing the entire time and had I turned quickly, we may have bumped boobs. That close. Unnerved, I walked several aisles and looked at many products and she continued to shadow me without ever saying another word.

It made me nervous, and I began to wonder what questions I had just answered.

"Do you find me seriously desirable?" Yes!

"Do you think you can forget me after this encounter?" No!

"Are you planning to shoplift while in my store?" Yes!

"Can you pull it off without my assistance?" No!

"Are you certifiably crazy?" Yes!

"Did you take your meds today?" No!

I felt so guilty about what I might have admitted to that I ended up buying a hundred dollars worth of things from her.

What do YOU suppose she was asking me?

FF: No Frontal Lobe

2010-11-12T07:51:00.001-05:00

A student told me yesterday that I looked good. Since my belt couldn't even touch end to end before work and I had to go back to my fat belt, his comment made me smile.

In the oops category goes the comment that I made to a completely bald man this week. "I like your hair cut."

My youngest child has been streamlining his morning routine. For a while now, he's been sleeping in his school clothes and there have been times when he has slept with his school folder. Last night he slept in his jacket. Are the shoes next?

Yesterday I was on a road with a speed limit of 50 MPH. The woman behind me was talking into a cell phone in her left hand and was texting with another cell phone in her right hand.

I met a woman recently who said she is going to push me to go back to work full time, and I realized that I am ready for that. That she works at a university where I want to work is convenient. Now if she could only really get me a job!

My newest quest? Non-pilling, non-shrinking sheets that won't leave my husband swimming in a sea of perspiration by 3 a.m. If they could be less than a mortgage payment, I would love them even more.

Dolly Parton is a brilliant business woman and some of her lyrics are just wonderful, but I think she should have refused to record "Stairway to Heaven." Have you heard it? Go on!! YouTube it. I dare you!

On Wednesday, while in a waiting room, I listened as two elderly women had a conversation. They spoke exceedingly loudly and were quite conciliatory toward each other, but although they took turns in speaking, neither woman was involved in the other's conversation. They were in parallel conversations - just taking turns talking. If this post is any indication, I am well on my way to joining them. Fortunately there are those who understand.

All Better

2010-11-11T06:56:00.008-05:00

The Happiness Project: Soaking

2010-11-09T08:56:00.000-05:00

Every morning, before the sun crests the neighbors' house, these two stumble down their bed ladders and drag themselves to this ancient hot tub. They slowly awaken and warm-up and what begins as a quiet journey to the backyard soon becomes a laughing fest. That old vessel was a good investment after all.

Caution's Cooking Conquest

2010-11-08T10:10:00.001-05:00

I cannot believe how many recipes people carry around in their heads! It seems that any time I

sit at a ball game
sit through a scouting event
sit through a church-related event
stand in line at the grocery store

people begin to talk food, and that talk turns to recipes. And that is when people say, "I have the greatest way to make ..."

I love to hear those recipes, but I never remember them.

Okay, there is one exception. Years ago while we waited for our young daughters to sell Girl Scout cookies at Kroger, a woman said,

"Put a couple of pounds of beef stew, a couple of cans of tomatoes, and a couple of cans of Bush's Chili Magic into a crock pot. Voila! Dinner will be served eight hours later."

I love that recipe and love doctoring it with different things. As a matter of fact, it's what's for dinner tonight.

A couple of weeks ago my family went to a party ~ a grand party with the most gracious hosts who know how to cook. Among the DOZENS of dishes they put out, one held ribs and that prompted me to admit that I cannot cook ribs to save my life.

You should have heard the chorus around that room:

use vinegar!
use beer!
Make Checkered cook!

The woman next to me quietly said that she had the best method ever! Then she told me to do three things, but I knew that was two things too many to remember, so she scrounged up paper and a pen and wrote those things down. I stuffed that paper into my pocket and found it a few day later.

She was right: KILLER ribs !!

I was going to call and thank her, but my son now says I've been mispronouncing the woman's name for a year (he couldn't have told me months ago????) I think an email thank-you will suffice; don't you?

FF: Embracing Life

2010-11-05T09:40:00.000-04:00

I decided to take a break from blogging and it lasted one Friday. Here's what you may have missed in my absence:

I bought an old computer from a student. He included the stale cigarette smoke in the tower as a bonus. Every time I use that computer now, I think I'm in a Motel 6 or Super 8.

A couple of days ago, I was using the very cool mouse which was totally messed up and working backward. I was annoyed at: 1. the mouse, 2. the student, 3. the cigarette smoke. It took me a while to realize that I was holding the mouse upside down.

Michigan drivers are exhausting me. This morning I stopped to allow a middle school student to cross in front of me. The mom behind me immediately blew her horn. You can imagine how gracious they are to a new driver, so I ordered some of these for our cars. Let's hope they help.

But WHY when I Googled "student driver sign" did breastfeeding signs come up? The correlation is lost on me.

Never before have I have a semester where so many students have buried a parent or a sibling. Their essays are breaking my heart.

My flower bulbs, which arrived weeks ago, are still unplanted.

The child in this family assigned to feeding the dog has NOT been giving her water. "Why would I do that when we have a toilet?"

My youngest child was very sad when he learned that 8 year olds cannot vote. He had been watching the ads and reading the mail and had picked out his candidate. It was some guy named Jack. Checkered and I both voted for Jack to make our son happy. We're deep political thinkers.

Jack won.

NO MORE BULLYING!

2010-11-03T09:44:00.000-04:00

I don't always expect my children to be popular, but I certainly hope they will have a friend or two. My son thought he had one -just one. Last night that friend joined two other kids and pelted my child with rocks and sticks. When my child told them to stop, they held him and stuffed his shirt with leaves. When he tried to run away, they threw basketballs, and soccer balls, and even a baseball at his head. When his face turned red from the effort of holding back tears, they told him he was a wus.

Thank God for cell phones. "Come get me. Now!"

My child needs a real friend. His dad and I need wisdom so that we don't exacerbate the situation.

Sweetness in there Somewhere

2010-11-01T09:43:00.000-04:00

He may be closer to his eleventh birthday than his tenth, and he may be closer to the attitude of a sixteen year old than to that of a ten year old, BUT put this boy in the presence of beautiful symphonic and choral music, and he's all love. His lucky, lucky dad got to sit next to him for the concert.