Northern Noise

My friend in Puerto Rico asked me "Is there much difference between -10 and -45?" I used to say, cold is cold but now I must admit that, while -10 is cold, -45 is damn cold. When you walk outside at -30, the breath almost freezes in your throat. At -60, you can spit in the air and it freezes before it hits the ground. At -25, soap bubbles freeze as you blow them. At any temp colder than -30, I find myself asking how badly I really need to leave the house. Can I do without milk or dinner? Today, -47 means that the city's firework display is cancelled. -47 means that we're staying home instead of going to friend's for celebrating. -47 means that if my sweet husband really wants buffalo wings for dinner, he's going to fetch them his own self. Not that love freezes at 47 below 0, but it does move slowly.

So I'm trying to learn to navigate this virtual world of blogs, quizzes, posts and chats. As I look at other blogs, I see cool stuff - problem is that cool is not my forte. So I found this quiz asking "What mythological creature are you?" and managed to make it post. It makes me laugh, actually. When I was a child and folks asked "What do you want to be when you grow up?" my answer was always consistent. I want to be a vampire. And I was, every year for Halloween and in every story I wrote. Now this quiz tells me I'm an angel? How did this happen? I know I drive a "mom car." I know I often go to bed at 9:00. Is this quiz telling me that I've been totally transformed into a regular ol' grownup? Maybe I should have asked a different question.

So my husband brought home Guitar Hero. The teens are psyched and ready to rock. The 5 year old thinks he's already a rock star. So where does that leave me? My cool factor did go up a little because I know the words to quite a few songs (they're classics, my kids should know them, shouldn't they?). My cool factor went down when I rocked the drums; they giggled. So now I'm going to resort to practicing, in the middle of the night of course when I'm all alone. I'll master the drums, become the goddess of the wii guitar, and when the time is right I'll dazzle them with my ability to get a groove on. I'm actually planning a whole new tour. Guitar Hero meets Wii Fit. I'll turn into David St. Hubbins and do step aerobics to the song "Big Bottoms." Maybe over time the bottom will diminish. Rock on.

It's cold outside. Really cold. This morning the car told me it was -38 degrees as we drove to town. It has warmed up now. It's only about -32. At this temperature, sensible people stay home. It's still outside because nothing should be out there moving around. I wonder about my son. He ran down to the car this morning and had to be reminded to put on his hat. Is he just naive? Reckless? Or has living in the Goldstream Valley turned him into feral ice cube boy of the north? Will his perspective on temperature forever be changed growing up here? His Georgia-born grandmother laughed earlier this week when he waited until it warmed up to about -8 to go sledding in the driveway. Other parts of the country shut down at the first sign of snow. People fear for their lives when the temperature goes below freezing. Still, even for here, it's cold outside.

When my parents chose careers, it was work to live. Work provided the means to create a life. When did our culture shift so that work IS life? Not only is there a sense that work is supposed to provide you emotional and mental fulfillment, there is a sense that's what done to our job is personally done to us. Now, there's no doubt that can happen, but is it impossible for people to step outside of an ego-centric box to realize that there are bigger forces at work? If the economy tanks and factories close, it affects us personally, but the decision isn't personal. If budgets demand a work load shift, it's not a personal decision. If we can't afford the cable television we've gotten used to, the world is not out to get us. I understand why Orwell and Huxley had such a pessimistic view of the world. For every step forward, the nature of humankind pulls us back down into the muck.

I've been thinking lately about the perils of the Internet. After a conversation about teachers with students as "friends" on Myspace, I googled "teacher facebook fired." It was amazing the news articles I found. Apparently the issue is real. Teachers can lose their jobs for what they post on networking sites, blogs and so forth. It's an interesting paradox - I feel like teachers - all people in fact - have a right to a personal life and that recreation in the personal realm that doesn't come into the work realm is none of anyone's business. On the other hand, do I want my kids to be "friends" with a teacher who posts pictures of drinking or whose status is "recovering from a wild night." Maybe it's the cost of freedom, exposure to the sordid facets of existence....it's what makes life worth living (exposure to the sordid facets of existence). Is the concept of privacy gone in our society? Maybe that's the questi

I just made peanut butter fudge. No, that's nothing special, but the fact I used 1/2 lb of velveeta processed cheese makes it interesting. It looks like fudge. It has tons of sugar like fudge. The test will be when my husband tries it. I won't tell him the secret, of course, unless he likes it. I once made a cake with mayonaise, mildly odd. And I love this dish with chicken, grapes and mustard. I even once tried the award-winning recipe the spam-a-lang-a -ding-dong (spam and whipped cream layered between ritz crackers and dipped in chocolate). Velveeta Fudge. It sounds like evil alter-ego of a stripper.

We knew the fish was dead. Our hope was that he would fall asleep before he realized it. We'd sneak in, scoop it out, and make up a story about how he'd run off to join the circus. Instead, I heard the tears soon after the light went out. A friend told me the reason to buy your kids fish is so they get used to things dying. Practical or twisted? I haven't yet decided. We had one mass death after an unsuccessful tank cleaning, but this was the first sudden demise. Luckily, the wood stove was going, so Freddie the Fish got a Viking style sendoff on a pyre of flame and birch wood.

Our house is small. Built in stages - 3, 16'x20' squares attached in a line. We have one bathroom and our washer/dryer is in our kitchen. I love our house. In our house I can hear my kids get out of bed as they try to sneak around. In our house we learn that 4 people can brush their teeth all at once (5 is pushing it). In our house, more christmas lights than wall space can turn an ordinary living room into Santa's bordello. In our house, I can look out the window and see nothing but trees, and occasionally the northern lights. In our house the floors are cold and we all have good slippers. In our house, a perfect night is playing dominoes at the kitchen table, with dogs to keep our feet warm and popcorn to drop and keep them happy. I love our house. We go to other people's houses - houses that are clean and tidy and everything has a place. Where do they pile their mail? Where are their extra boots and hats? How do they remember to floss if they put it into

We live in a world where people expect to know everything, and that information be gathered for and presented to them. Yet we live in a world where there is such information overload that people ignore most of what they receive, see and hear. People who don't pay attention, or understand all potential implications of fact or issue are responsible for their own ignorance. We expect to be given information on a metaphorical platter, but even when the platter is clearly in front of us, we expect to then have the meat of it cut, seasoned, fed to us, and at times even masticated. It all perplexes me, frustrates me, and frightens me.

There's lots of buzz these days about the education system - what is working, what isn't and why. I think most teachers I know care about doing a good job, but, just like everyone else seems to be, are more concerned about the devil (or failing system) they know than the one they don't. This fact, combined with the general public's inclination to believe what's convenient and reinforces existing beliefs makes me damn cynical about the fate of our society. The hope I felt when our nation elected Obama, and when our state ousted convicted felon Ted Stevens, seems to be waning as I realize we're losing the good fight on the home front. If people aren't willing to look at helping all students learn (the ones we actually get in schools - as opposed to the ideal student of years ago, with supportive families who allow us to beat them if they fail to meet expectations) than perhaps we are a indeed a nation of infidels. I need my faith restored. Or maybe a mart

"How was your day?" I asked, as I always do. "Fantastic. Check this out!" My son is holding a mechanical pencil with tigers printed on it. He's smiling and life is good. "I got a mechanical pencil." When we get home, he sits and writes. He writes on the posters on his walls, he writes on the book we're reading, he writes - but always on paper. He writes with joy. Life through the eyes of a 5 year old is good. Joy is running to his sisters saying "Smell my breath - I brushed my teeth!" Joy is spiderman pajamas, with buttons. Joy is singing while you're in the bathroom, with no care of who hears. Joy is an Obama sign in the neighbor's driveway, recently uncovered by the snow plow. Joy is being turned into a zombie who gets to tuck him into bed and turn on Hank the cowdog before eating his face off and turning out the light.

that has such people in it. On a whim I enter the world of bloggers - will blogger jokes replace the lawyer jokes of the past - paradise is a blogger leaving Alaska with a myspace page under each arm? Interesting to see if it lasts - for me at least - or if there's anything to say...