Northern Noise

When I turned 40 it was quite a milestone.  My dad had died a few weeks earlier, I was unhappy with my physical condition, it was cold, and I had to do a round of "baseline medical tests." Whoopee! One of those tests was my first routine mammogram.  As a younger woman, I heard the horror stories of "the boob squisher."  Various tales of pain, torture, and boobs turned as flat as a pancake.  Whoopee! So I made the appointment, went in for the mammogram and it wasn't that bad.  Sure it was uncomfortable, but it wasn't the end of the world. The discomfort only lasted for a moment and then it was over.  The technicians were nice and all in all, no big deal. And then it started.  There was an "irregularity" so I went back a few months later for a follow up.  That trip to the Imaging Center contained a surprise visit to the ultrasound department as well which turned up two "issues."  The first was a smallish lump that looked like a fibroa

It was homecoming week at Lathrop High School.  If I were still teaching there, I would have a definite opinion of all the hoopla, but since I'm not, it's been pretty fun.  Each day had a dress up theme, and Aileen (that's the name she goes by these days) participated in every one. Monday was Multiplicity Monday.  She and her friends all wore light blue shirts..... we were seeing double, or triple, or quadruple... Tuesday was Tie-Dye Tuesday.  I learned this at 5:00 Monday night as we were picking up Jed from school.  So back into town we went for dye and supplies.  I suggested a stylish A to iron onto her shirt and then home we went.  She and Jed rounded up white things, shirts & socks mostly, to dye and set to work on the kitchen floor.  When there were done, and only slightly dyed themselves, Ali realized that the shirts were supposed to sit for 6-8 hours before washing and drying.  It was already 7:30!! So, I suggested she set her alarm to get up at 3:00 am and

Last weekend was beautiful - warm, sunny, unusually pleasant for the time of year.  Last night when I went to bed, I noted the wind.  It had a bite to it that was new for this September.  And then, I headed out into the darkness at 6:20 this morning to go to work and geez louize!  It was cold! I have always loved fall - sunshine without mosquitos, warm but not too hot & sweaty, feeling invigorated by the changing colors and light.... but today I'm a bit put out.  Here's the thing, it's windy outside.  I don't like windy.  In fact, one of the reasons I have liked Fairbanks is its traditional lack of wind.  I grew up in Kenai, where the wind blew constantly like a whispering, heckling little brother.  It was always there and I was constantly on my toes prepared for a straight out frontal attack, but usually the wind took more pleasure in the slow, steady torture of continuous breeze.  Chinese water torture has nothing on Kenai wind. When I taught in Unalakleet I k

It's funny - I blog for myself, for my friends and family.  I guess that's kinda silly when it's there on the world wide web for all to see.  Still, I'm not available on search engines, I don't advertise, and I'm a little ol' lady in Fairbanks, Alaska spewing, by my own admission, "noise."  My following is small and my profile pretty low key. So it toally cracks me up to see that one of my posts has been copied onto someone's FB page because they've taken offense at my "noise."  The irony of a person who called me a Philistine, an arrogant bully, and a puppet being offended by being called a jerk or a crazy amuses me. Maybe I'll get some more readers... I'm starting to feel famous! 

  He remembers the first time he met ‘er He remembers the first thing she said He remembers the first time he held her And the night that she came to his bed He remembers her sweet way of sayin’ Honey has somethin’ gone wrong He remembers the fun and the teasin’ And the reason he wrote ‘er this song I’ll give you a daisy a day, dear I’ll give you a daisy a day I’ll love you until the rivers run still And the four winds we know blow away They would walk down the street in the evenin’ And for years I would see them go by And their love that was more than the clothes that they wore Could be seen in the gleam of their eyes As a kid they would take me for candy And I loved to go taggin’ along We’d hold hands while we walked to the corner And the old man would sing ‘er his song I’ll give you a daisy a day, dear I’ll give you a daisy a day I’ll love you until the rivers run still And the four winds we know blow away Now he walks down the street in the evenin’

Why do people laugh when I tell them my retirement plans including buying a monster truck and going on the Monster Jam circuit??  I can totally picture myself in a big, black monster truck crushing cars and jumping over barrels.  Can't decide on the name - it's a toss up between "Lady MacBeth" and "Lady MacDeath."   Your vote??   A better suggestion? Send your name, suggestion and a $5 bill to me.  If you're the winner you can get an official pit crew jacket.  And I'll even have your name embroidered on it.

So as much as I complain at times about my husband, he's gone this week and I'm missing him.  It could be argued that I'm missing him because our child is sick and I have meetings tomorrow and the logistics would be much easier with him here.  It might also be postulated that the garbage on the deck is attracting bees, and I'm a bit squeamish about hauling it down to the truck.  Some cynical person might even think I'm lamenting his absence because I just hate doing dishes and folding clothes, both chores necessary to providing our children with a decent home.  However,  I think I miss him because I love him.  And maybe because we're all hungry and no one wants to cook....

Today my everlovin' turns 52.  It's his 16th birthday celebration for which I've made his cake.  Yellow cake with chocolate frosting, to be exact.  Despite his recent shenanigans, for which he might well deserve having his birthday taken away, I'm quite fond of this man so here's my shout out to Bob. My top 10 favorite things about Bob: 10)  He's really smart about things that seem unusual to me.  He knows the highest mountains, the square acreage of deserts, the type of rock that my kids bring home, and the name of the Cartwright's cook on Bonanza. 9)  He makes me birthday cake from scratch every year.  The first time he made it he forgot to put vanilla in the frosting, so he just poured it over the cake. 8)  He's the kindest person I've ever met. 7)  He doesn't compromise his beliefs; Bob is a man of great integrity. 6)  He knows the exact date he first saw his favorite movies, went on dates, or enjoyed a good meal. 5)  He's super f

So I'm on this board.  It's a local non-profit that is in chaos and severe financial distress.  I've been on the board a relatively short time, but just long enough to watch the  slow train wreck begun years ago complete itself.  All hell broke loose earlier this fall resulting in a division of board and "founding artistic director."  The truth and the facts have been spun, twisted, distorted, and ignored by people I don't know - or care to know - and the result has been personal attacks on board members, letters to the editor and name-calling.  As a board member with legal obligations I have silently born the brunt of the organized attack, although at times reading the Facebook posts of people with herd mentality and a willingness to suspend common sense have made me a bit grumpy. But the point isn't that good people have been maligned by willful ignorance of truth, the point is that tonight my husband decided he needed to "defend my name" by

"The superior person understands rightness; the inferior person understands profit. -- Confucius " Today is Labor Day. When I was growing up, I saw this as a "union" holiday, largely because my mom and all her radical friends would parade with slogans like, "We all stand together or we all fall separately." I was never a big union supporter, although one of my first paying jobs was walking the picket line in front of the D&A Superstore in Kenai when the teamsters went on strike against Alaska Cold Storage. (at least I think that was the scenario, all I know is I walked back and forth with a sign and got $10/hour!). When I started work for the state of Alaska, I was required to be in the Alaska State Employees Association. I wasn't very happy about having to pay my hard earned cash to a union that I didn't perceive any benefit from. I remember getting one of my first ASEA newsletters, correcting all the grammatical errors with a bright r

Yesterday I was the world's worst mom. How do I know this? My son told me so, at several different times in several different ways. I made him wash his dishes when he wanted to watch television. I made him take a shower when he wanted to sleep in his dirty clothes. I made him have a hamburger for dinner when he wanted chips and salsa. I'm a bad, bad, mom. But this morning he woke up and told me he loved me. When I was walking to the car to go to work, he hollered "I love you mama! Have a great day" from the porch and as I backed down the driveway he was out there blowing me kisses, waving and sending me hugs. This morning I was a great mama. Tonight I barely saw him as I got home late and he was heading to bed. There wasn't much indication of whether I was a great mother or a lousy one, just kisses and "Can I finish reading this page before you turn out the light." I wonder what kind of mom I'll be tomorrow?