Northern Noise

Hmmmm, one of those days.... husband is creating a plan to move to Georgia and become an organic watermelon farmer, daughter wants to drop out of school and become an autism behavior specialist aide, son wants to drop out of school and become a Jedi or a construction site worker. Has my restlessness caught on? Funny because I went to get a massage, came home and drank a cold beer in the hot shower; I'm feeling totally content this evening. Now if I can convince the hubby to rub my feet while he outlines his farming plan it will be purt near perfect. Although I'm still contemplating the naked, green run..... might just be downright fun.

It's springtime and I'm feeling restless. It happens in fall too, I think. The changing weather inspires movement and the unveiling of the land as the snow melts makes me wonder how the world looks elsewhere, beyond Alaska. In my younger years, I might have just packed up the truck and the dog and taken off to check it all out. Now that's not a real possibility, but the desire to roam is still there, and I feel this bubbling under the surface that keeps me from being settled. Today I was making a list of what I'd take if I were to hit the road for a few months, and what I'd take if I took the kids and husband with me. None of this means that I'm not happy where I'm at, or that I don't love and cherish my family and our home. My life is good. It's just that different aspects of our selves show at different times, but they don't completely go away. Last Friday night we went to a play up at the university. I was surrounded by young people, col

On March 21, 2010, the United States Congress passed a comprehensive health care reform bill. The passage of the bill was trumpeted by one side of the aisle as a great victory, while the other side claims a travesty. According to the NY Times, John Boehner of Ohio, the House Republican leader, responded with, “The American people are angry,” Mr. Boehner said. “This body moves forward against their will. Shame on us.” Because our country operates largely on a “majority rules” system, it is easy for Americans to forget that the majority isn’t always right. What makes our system great is that a majority of our leaders have been willing to stand up for the rights of the minority. Doing the right thing, the moral thing, to protect the rights of all Americans is a hard choice and often has hard consequences. America has been at this crossroad before. In 1863, when President Abraham Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation, Jefferson Davis’s decried the “measure of which several m

Today I had one of those meetings where I had to wear nylons. I typically try to avoid wearing nylons if at all possible, preferring pants or tights or even bare legs. My friend who has one of those "has to wear panty hose" type of jobs claimed to not understand what the big deal was until I asked her how do she feels when she get home at the end of the day and gets to take those evil things off? Her response, "Ahhhhhhh, they're off." See! And then she acknowledged I was right: nylons are the scourge of womanhood. So why are nylons so evil... let me count the ways. 1) They're expensive. The ones I had to buy for today were $8.50 at Fred Meyers. That's two mochas or a bottle of cheap wine, both of which are far more fun than buying nylons. 2) They run. Today my wedding ring caught my hose and I thought I was done for. Luckily no run at that point. Then I went to the bathroom before the meeting and almost pulled the nylons up to forcefully and rip

So I totally don't get it. When I was a kid, we loved St. Patrick's day. Everyone wore green - or you would get pinched - and we ate corned beef and cabbage and put green food coloring in our milk. It was a real holiday. This morning, my kids both said "whatever" when I suggested they wear green. Neither was pleased by green milk, and when I cheerily reminded them both of "corned beef and cabbage for dinner!" I got a "Yuck, I'm totally not eating that" from one and a "I'm a vegetarian" from the other. What's wrong with these people??? So I'm going to try another approach. We'll do some broccoli salad with dinner (it's green so it counts, right?) which will appease the vegetarian and might tempt the finicky boy. I'm making chocolate stout cupcakes, which no one can resist, and will keep the extra beers to help my hubby find some Irish cheer. I'm thinking of getting some mint chocolate chip ice cream to

"All I have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for all I have not seen. "~Ralph Waldo Emerso n My son asks a lot of questions. This is a good thing. But lately, there's been some dissonance in our household when it comes to answering questions about faith and belief. The basic breakdown is that my husband is a behaviorist, a scientist at heart who believes in systems and ideas that can be proven. He wants tangible evidence of existence. I, on the other hand, believe in stuff that can't be proven. I like evidence, and I like rational explanations, but I firmly believe that not everything in life can be explained within our current scientific methods or systems. I also value a good story or moral over truth, which is relative in my humble opinion. These differences manifest when my son asks questions about gods, ghosts, and legends. For example, we're currently reading the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series, which combines the adventures and angst of a 7

On Sunday mornings, I like to wake up slowly. Unfortunately, my son wakes up early and by the time I haul myself out of bed to make a pot of coffee, he's raring to go. Usually, Bob makes pancakes and has the boy help in the kitchen, so I get a little peace & quiet. Today however, the boy was more wound up than usual so we had to get creative. We've been discussing chores a lot lately. Jed's getting older and can do more to help around the house. Our philosophy is that everyone who lives in the house needs to pitch in as s/he is able and Jed is struggling a bit with the idea that he can be assigned chores as well. Today, I assigned him a major chore: pull all of the cans & foodstuffs out of the big corner cabinet, organize them into categories, and then put them all back. He balked at first, but then acquiesced so for the past 40 minutes or so, I've sat here drinking coffee and listening to the sounds of organizing from the kitchen. He's actually having

It's a Calvin & Hobbes kind of day... I want snow and I want to play in the snow. I also feel a little bit irreverent. Like I want to push people's buttons and mock the system..... Here's a bit of a tribute: Man, how I wish we'd get some snow.....

"I love talking about nothing. It is the only thing I know anything about.” ~Oscar Wilde Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a talker. I like to talk & tell stories. I love words and how subtle variations make for such different meanings. I talk to myself and process out loud, and I talk to others. I can talk to strangers in the grocery store (which totally embarrasses my children) and I can talk to people I know. Along with talking, I tend to have a high tolerance for noise. I came from a family of noisy, vociferous folks and I also teach high school so typically I function just fine amid vocal chaos. But the last two days, my patience has been tried. As my mother's ancient curse was successful and I have a child who is like me, my son likes to talk as well. I remember when he was a baby and how his father and I waited for his first words, and then his first sentences. We encouraged him and talked to him and were soon rewarded with the sweet sound of his voice.

Seven years ago today I was extremely pregnant. Although my estimated due date was April 6, which was a month away, I was ready to have the baby that was kicking inside me. It was a fun and funny time. About two weeks earlier, our oldest daughter had expressed concern that she might not like having a baby brother. You see, she explained, she HAD to like her sister but since the baby was only her half brother she might not like him very much. We convinced her to not worry about it until after the baby was born, and that we'd cross the proverbial bridge if we needed to. (The irony, of course, was that she turned into the best big sister ever and spoils the boy to this very day...) Now I look across the room at this 50 pound creature who is playing Wii and needs a haircut. To me it seems like I was just pregnant - I remember the anticipation and the overwhelming rush of seeing his bald head when his dad laid him on my stomach. I remember watching him crawl and hoping he would wa

"The fear of burglars is not only the fear of being robbed, but also the fear of a sudden and unexpected clutch out of the darkness.” I was driving to town earlier today and remembered another Helter Skelter story from my younger days. In about 1992, my roommate and I were house sitting for her parents in downtown Fairbanks. They have a cool, older house that's built part by part and has lots of character, along with nooks and crannies. It was a great place to stay, not only because it was a fun house to stay in, but the extended family and friends of my roommate and her brothers were always in and out as well so it was really like having a home. One evening in February.... or should I say "One dark and cold Fairbanks evening?" (Which it was - but that might be overkill.) Anyhoo, one night I came home and walked into the kitchen and realized that I was the only one home. I walked upstairs to check the phone messages and, as I walked past the seldom-used living

The other day my daughter was in the truck with me and we were listening to the Beatles, one of her favorites that I also like. When the song "Helter Skelter" came on, she said that she wanted to skip it because it creeps her out. I asked why and she asked "Have you ever heard of a guy named Charles Mason?" Although Charles Manson isn't a funny subject, the question struck me as funny. Once again, a prime illustration of the fact that my children think I just fell of the turnip truck. I do know of Charles Manson, as a matter of fact, and I agree that he's a creepy fellow. I remember watching a television show about Charles Mason when I was younger - probably the 1976 movie - and my dad explaining to me a little about him. I think he was up for parole and my dad was trying to explain to me about race wars, and cults, and brainwashing. It was a lot to take in; my overwhelming impression was that it was kinda freaky but also fascinating that one crazy man