Northern Noise

It's New Year's Eve, 2009. I usually think of my life in school years, August to July, instead of calendar years, but this year is a bit different. I'm ready for 2009 to come to a close. A quick review of 2009... in January, my dad passed. I'll never forget the sound of my brother's voice when he called me at school that afternoon. I was about to start a Hamlet activity in AP English. My students were awesome. They realized that something was up when I got off the phone. I think I said something like, "Hey guys, I think my dad just died and I need to go make a phone call. Here's the assignment and the videos are all cued up." Two girls were awesome and assured me all would be well as they ushered me out the door. In February, I turned 40. 'Nuff said. March, April, May were busy with family. One child was really struggling with lots of school & health issues, others were just "normal" kids. My Grammie, who went from living i

I think one of my favorite things about holidays is the post-holiday excuse to collapse. This is especially true after Christmas. The presents are purchased, wrapped, opened, and are now being enjoyed by their recipients. Food is planned, cooked, and stored in the fridge providing leftovers for anyone who is hungry and removing my need to cook. Sleepless anticipation has been replaced by comfortable relaxation, and naps become the order of the day. The kids have plenty to keep them busy, and the grownups are settled in with warm socks and new books to read. The only creature in our house still full of energy is a 7 week old puppy, and she only attacks in short bursts and then naps with the rest of us. The joy of the post-holiday breather is that I get to look around at my family, all content and settled and happy, and just enjoy them. Peace.

Growing up, the joke was that mom had me and my dad had Bilbo. Bilbo was a big ol' St. Bernard who was born right around the time I was. I grew up as he did; my stuffed animal was even a St. Bernard. Bilbo was always my dad's dog and I saw him a lot like I saw my dad the policeman: loyal, protecting, cuddly. I remember once when I was mean to a neighbor girl. Her mom came over to our house to see my mom about it. I sat back in my bedroom curled up with Bilbo, alternating my thoughts between letting him out and asking him to eat her up and feeling comforted that he loved me no matter what. St. Bernards aren't very long lived dogs, and our next dog came after Bilbo's death. We got a Siberian Husky mix pup from the secretary at our school. Our friends and neighbors got a pup from the litter as well; they named theirs Scamp. My dad wanted to name him after another Tolkien character and my brother wanted to name him Playful. We compromised with Playful Bard, although

Tis the night after the last day of school and Christmas vacation is beginning. Off to a perfect start, with a nice warm house, the tree lights on, and my son snuggling me on the couch, while wearing his Santa hat and watching The Muppets Christmas Carol. Life seems pretty good tonight. Now if I can only get all of the work done in time..... What I really like is the day AFTER Christmas, when the kids have plenty to keep them busy, the cockles of our hearts are still warm from the day before, and I can look at my family and just enjoy them. One week to go.

John Wayne has lately been visiting our house. He made his first appearance at a family movie night. It was my favorite John Wayne movie, El Dorado with James Caan playing Mississippi and spouting Edgar Allan Poe poetry. Jedidiah was fascinated with the movie, the characters, and the world in which they resided. So we've been watching lots of westerns. His favorites are Cat Ballou and Rio Bravo . For the past two days, he has been John Wayne. First John Wayne the sheriff, like Chance in Rio Bravo . Then, John Wayne the hired gun and fist for the downtrodden, like in El Dorado . John Wayne isn't actually in Cat Ballou , but Jed seems to have substituted him for Lee Marvin and I'm not going to argue. It's funny that, for all the violence in these movies, I'm totally okay with my son watching these films. See, modern woman that I am, I want my son to grow up manly and to have integrity, and I think John Wayne films model both behaviors. I want him to prefer den

Twas the night before Christmas in Goldstream, Alaska. "Could it get any colder," said Papa,"I'll ask yer?" The hills were all covered with homes old and new Neat cabins and trailers, and tarps made of blue. The stockings were taped to the table with duct Hanging them by the woodstove would have pushed our luck. The children were snuggled all warm in their beds While visions of Hot Licks danced in their heads. And Papa in his long johns, and me in my fleece Had just settled down for a nip, and some peace. When out in the yard there arose such a racket, Like the dogs when they foller a rabbit to track it. Away to the doorway I went with a light Grumpy as heck and most ready to fight. The moon on the breast of the old, hard-packed snow Showed all of the places the dogs like to go. When what to my wondering eyes should appear But a dogsled, eight huskies, and a dude with a beard He looked fat and jolly tho' the dogs were a barking I saw on his bumper "Ivor

For some reason, yesteday I got to thinking about the hearse. Not hearses in general, but the 1953 Cadillac hearse my dad bought one summer. When I was 10 or 11, my mom went to help one of her girlfriends set up a new house and left my dad to be the primary caregiver of their three children. Granted, she hired two college girls home for the summer to provide supplemental care, and to make sure we were indeed fed, clothed and occasionally bathed. Still, day to day life depended on Dad to plan. Which was a first. It was an eventful three weeks. Among the cherished memories of that time are my sister breaking her arm. (Whether she fell or was pushed from the tree house depends on who tells the story - but be assured I was not there at the time.) I remember that she got a bright yellow cast. It was the first broken bone any of us got, although not the last. I also remember the production of trying to wash her hair. My sister, although lovable even to this day, is the most stubborn

Well, it has finally happened. After 9 years of marriage and 14 years of togetherness, Bob and I have taken "the step." I could tell from his demeanor when I got home last night that something was up. He was excited and said he had a "surprise." Now, I'm not necessarily big on surprises. I like to be a part of decisions and appreciate routine & predictability. So whenever my husband is excited about giving me a surprise, I find myself in a conundrum. Part of me immediately thinks "Oh NO!" while externally I've learned that I must present "Oh Goody! I can't wait!" in order to preserve my husband's feelings and peace in our household. So he's excited and I'm apprehensive. When the boy is finally in bed and there's a lull in the activity he says "Come see your surprise!" I follow him upstairs, and sit on the bed while he pulls a box out of the corner. He reaches in and pulls out..... new slippers!

So my s-o-n has been on this kick lately where he has to spell everything. Sometimes he'll spell just for the f-u-n of it. He's always liked patterns and silly voices and such, and I think that his spelling is a way of putting on a persona or creating a character. He also likes to spell when he's m-a-d. The other night I heard him giving his father fits. Lately he's waiting until bedtime and then claiming "I can't go to bed; I'm dying of hunger!" (We've tried various tactics to prevent such a ploy, mostly trying to stuff him full of healthy dinner and then getting him a snack before pajama time.) When his father stood his ground and offered a glass of milk or water, the boy's reply was adamant. M-I-L-K is NOT food. It's a D-R-I-N-K!!! For some reason that made me giggle as I eavesdropped, which resulted in my reprimand by the boy. Mom, laughing is M-E-A-N. You're being mean. The third reason for spelling seems to be to say wor