Northern Noise

So I've been reading these Women's Murder Club books.  They're quick, easy, go down like a smooth bourbon.  In the past two weeks, I've read 9 of them.  So what I realized last night is that I might need to go cold turkey. See, yesterday I had to call a plumber to the house.  He got here, was friendly, we chatted.  And, I realized at 2:00 this morning that I not only told him my husband was out of town, he knew one of the dogs' name.  What if he was a killer and I gave him information to make me the next target?  In the books, it's the normal seeming people with no motive you have to watch out for.  So I got out of bed, checked the locks on the doors (not that they do any good against real murderers), and made sure the shotgun was loaded. This isn't the first time the books might have gotten to me.  I find myself checking out cars that happen to pull out of a lot as I do.  And I perk up more when the dog barks at the wind.  Or barks at what seems like it

For years I was an English teacher.  That meant that in my spare time, I read "literature."  I checked out new books that I might be able to teach, tried to keep up with new works by the erudite set, read books about books that I was teaching, or re-read books that I was teaching.  In the summer, I ventured into cheap fiction, such as Charlaine Harris's "Southern Vampire" series. But even that was justifiable.  Since they based the series True Blood on those books, I told myself I was just keeping up with popular culture. Now that I'm three years out of the classroom (which sounds crazy to me when I write it, and kind of sad as well) I have embraced the fact that no one gives a hoot what I read.  Thus, I've embraced escapist fiction. Right now it's the Women's Murder Clu b series by James Patterson, and next I think it will be Jesse Stone books by Robert Parker.  Read a great novel called The Weird Sisters that, other than a reference to Mac

Conference #2.  Good stuff but tired of traveling.  Ready to be home.  Should be writing a paper but am instead editing other's papers.  More fun.  At least I have wine and food tv.  But I miss my fam.

When I was little I remember sitting in front of my grandparents' fireplace while my Gramps had a fire going.  My Grammie's whole house was blue & white, except for her pink bathroom, and the mantle had all sorts of blue & white candles, pottery, and knick knacks.  I wanted the big crock she kept by the fireplace, but she was afraid I'd use it for putting wood in (which makes me laugh) but she did send me the blue metal matchbox that hung on the wall.  Today I hung it up at my house, and seeing it by the woodstove makes me happy. I've been missing my Gram extra much lately.  She was an avid Republican woman, and a devout Catholic, so I can't help wonder who should would have voted for this election.  I can not see her voting for a Mormon, as she didn't think much of them as a religion.  And I can't see her voting for a Democrat.  Still, I think Obama would have won out over Romney.  What I can't figure out is what logic should would have create

Tonight was a great last night's dinner in Richmond.  Walked to the Europa and it was fantastic. It was an evening of tapas.  We shared the following: pan roasted clams and mussels hangar kabobs flatbread duck pizza crispy brussel sprouts roasted cauliflower ( http://europarichmond.com/menu/dinner/ ) All were excellent.  I'm going to try to re-create the brussel sprouts - so good.  The duck pizza was probably my favorite, but I'm a big fan of duck. Cocktails were also good.  I tried the Pimm's Cup and the Pear Limeade.  Both were tasty and sneaky - did not taste any alcohol, just delicious goodness. I tried the amaretto creme brulee and a shot of grand marinier for dessert.  Very tasty.  Overall, no complaints.  Excellent food, nice dessert, tasty cocktails - ahhhh. Next trip is to Anchorage.  Hmmm, wonder if I can find someplace new in the same old town....

Today is day #2 in Richmond, Va.  Conference is good and found some good food as well.   Dinner at the CanCan Brasserie ( http://www.cancanbrasserie.com/0408_opening.html )     I had a port poached fig salad, with a duck confit and goat cheese.  Very tasty.  The entree was a wild mushroom bread pudding - again, very yum.  My table mates enjoyed their pomegranate quail and lamb.  There was a also a yummy, gingery Poison Apple martini.  Ummm. Dessert was across the street at Carytown Cupcakes.  I couldn't choose between the peanut butter oreo and the hummingbird, so got both.  The peanut butter oreo was amazing! Richmond seems interesting so far.  Not a lot going on in the downtown area where my hotel and the conference center is.  The city is clean, but seems pretty barren. Carytown was certainly more hopping, but we managed to get into the restaurant straight away (granted, it was 6:30 which is early for big city dining). So the challenge is tomorrow night.  I'm looking f

I'm not a hotel and traveling kind of girl.  I'm sitting here hunkered down, getting to control the remote for once, and I could be anywhere in the U.S.  Anywhere but home, anyway.   I know a lot of folks who look for conferences, look for reasons to travel.  I'm not one of those people.  I don't hate it, and I value professional development that helps me do my job better.   So here I am in Richmond.  After traveling all night, I'm not real energetic. Went for a walk around the canal, checked out the old brick buildings.  And then I hunkered down in the hotel, did some work, did some research for a paper, ordered a bowl of soup and some wine.  Now, with the shades drawn and CNN on tv, I'm missing home.  The siding should be done, the snow should be falling, and hopefully the family is taking care of my dog who is probably confused. So good nite Internet, good night moon. Good night television, going to bed soon.

Traveling this week.  Getting on the airplane tomorrow and heading for Richmond, Virginia.  I've never been to Richmond, and have only run through Virginia one brief time.  I'm not very excited about going, to tell the truth.  I'm kind of a homebody and I miss family when I'm away from them.  I do like sleeping by myself in a king size bed, but even that's not as cozy as a queen size with a husband and dog sharing. The challenge of heading to places like Virginia in October is that it's 70 degrees there during the day and we're getting pretty wintery. Mid 70's is hot for me, and all my summery stuff is packed up and put away.  So I'm trying to find clothes to take that travel well, don't require me to take a new pair of shoes for each outfit, are comfortable, and look professional.  Thank goodness for black - black pants, black sweater, black boots - throw on a shirt and good to go. I get back next Saturday night late, and home a week and the

We've had an amazingly beautiful fall.  But now it's starting to get that cold and clear feeling.  Not snow this week, but what might be called "high fall."  So I pour a bourbon, enjoy the wood stove.  At this rate, I'll be immobile by February, hanging out with the dogs and whining when the fire dies and waiting for Bob to get back to work while I hibernate until spring.

Why is it impossible to make a small pot of soup?  I started this morning, thinking I'd just leftover chicken & veggies in the fridge.  Purposefully didn't use much water. Purposefully didn't use all the zucchini.  Somehow, *poof* I have an almost full soup pot.    How does that happen?  Why can I never make a small pot of soup?

I've been in an Emerson mood lately.  He's always been my favorite Transcendentalist, and a good author to read when one is feeling contemplative, or questioning what's important in life.  I don't think he's the greatest poet in the world, though when I'm feel the Ralph Waldo urge I do delve into them.  I much more enjoy his essays.  Lately I've read through some of his sermons as well.  Emerson was a product of Harvard Divinity (although apparently not especially illustrious) and a Unitarian. I won't make anyone read the sermons and essays that I've been enjoying, but I strongly suggest checking out "Self Reliance." (Self Reliance )  I actually think its best in front of a woodstove with a glass of good bourbon, with the wind blowing outside.  Emerson believe that man was inherently good, and needed to look within for truth and follow that truth in life. In case you're not keen on the whole essay, here's a few quotelets to get

One of the positive about moving to central office from the classroom has been getting to know some neat people.  There is one gal I work with whom I met 17 years ago when I was getting certified to teach in the Teachers For Alaska program.  After all the years and very different pathways we ended up in the same office.  Our kids are pretty much the same age, and it turns out that we get along pretty well.  Team teaching and presenting with her is always a blast because although we're incredibly different - she's math, I'm English; she's quiet, I'm not - we balance each other out and share core beliefs about teaching, parenting, and human decency.  I feel fortunate to work with her and become her friend. Last Sunday was a Celebration of Life for her mother, who passed away about a year ago, and who lived and taught in Fairbanks for many years.  Although I didn't know her mom, she must have been pretty awesome because she raised two strong, capable girls and im

My left eyelid has been spasming all day.  Well, since about 11:00 am really.  I don't know that anyone else is noticing but I feel like one of those weird old dudes that blink a lot and creep you out when you talk to them.  It's actually been twitching so long that I'm starting to feel like Popeye, with a squinty tough guy look.  It's getting so annoying that I almost wish my right eye would start too so at least I'd be balanced. I'm hopeful that tomorrow the twitch is gone.  But I'm worried that soon my whole head will be twitching.  So if you see me wobbling down the hallway, be polite and just look the other way.  Please.

First real snow today.  Melted by this evening, but this morning was a snowy morning.  Clouds, fluffy white stuff, cold air, the whole works.  Although I want the snow to hold off one more week until we finish some house chores, I think I'll be ready for winter this year. I'll be ready for winter this year, although the fall has been amazing.  Cool mornings, warm evenings, beautiful leaves and the smell of cranberries,  The dog running through the leaf pile, the chickadees making dive bombs at the sunflower seeds in the bird feeders. Winter is an excuse to snuggle down in front of a movie with the family.  Winter is a reason to make soup.  Winter is hot chocolate after sledding down the hill.  Winter is dinner in the crockpot and coming home to amazing smells.  Winter is northern lights and red wine, fires in the wood stove. Every season brings something positive, something to look forward to.  And the change keeps us on our toes, not getting too comfortable. Life is

Well, it's official.  I'm officially a Master of Arts.  Although it took me 18 years after earning my Bachelors degree, I went back to school and received a Masters of Arts in Education with a focus on Curriculum and Instruction.  I must say that I definitely feel that I learned something in the 23 months I was in the program.  It was a worthwhile, albeit expensive, experience.  My family says I don't LOOK any smarter, but I'll show them!! I really enjoyed being back in school.  Having to read the research, reflect on best practice, study current trends, and increase my basic knowledge in everything from theories of child development to interpreting statistics was really good for me.  It reinvigorated me, both professionally and personally. So I decided to start a second masters program.  So far it's not been as good as SXU, but I'm enjoying my current class.  I told Bob that if I get another degree I'll be almost as smart as he is! It all makes me ch

Went to bed last night after a beautiful, warm evening.  Woke up this morning and it was snowing.  Bob reminds me that some years it's been darn cold by now.  I'm still not ready for it.  Of course it didn't stick, and it was nice and crisp and beautiful this afternoon but ol' Mother Nature has once again reminded us she's boss.  And she has a sense of humor.

It's September 22 and I've been sitting out on the deck drinking coffee in my bare feet.  Kinda crazy considering that it's usually a bit colder than that.  It is unusual.  It looks like fall outside; the leaves have fallen and the sky is grey and foreboding.  It's disconcerting when what you see just doesn't jive with the 60 degree warmth. I think tonight we'll set up the tent and sleep in the yard.  It's a beautiful time for it.

It's funny how things can go from "just fine" to "not so much."  One minute we're sitting down at the dinner table talking politics, sharing the good things from our day, and the next minute someone's grouchy and being a turkey. That's how families go, isn't it?? Do you ever get the feeling that you just don't want to be the grown up? That you want to be able to throw a temper tantrum and not have to wait patiently for others?  Yeah, I get ya.  But you know what?  Being a grown up means that you smile and continue to act like a parent even when you don't want to.  It's about putting the kids and the "right thing" in front of one's own frustrations and desires. So that's it. (and then you put the kids to bed and pour a cocktail)

I've been trying to write more.  The problem is that I don't always have a lot to say.  When I started writing it never occurred to me that anyone would read anything I posted, so I spewed out the drivel that rolls around in my mostly empty noggin.  I was also still learning to deal with a boy, so there was probably some humor in that.  Little kids are funny; I think they're less so as they grow.  When I used to write "old school" I made myself write in my journal for at least 20 minutes every day.  Sometimes I discovered deep thoughts, mostly I just forced out words.  I have about 12 years of journals in boxes in the studio.  (I should probably get rid of them before I kick the bucket and the kids have to muck through all the crap.)  So now I force myself to write and it (mostly) gets published on my little blog.  On occasion I write something I like.  Often I share my random thoughts on issues.  When I get a gem, I post a laugh about my life.   I think the m

I have never seen myself as especially patriotic.  I am proud of my gramps's military service and the sacrifices he made for our country.  I support our troops and their families as they carry out the life-changing, world-altering decisions of our Commander in Chief.  I don't want my own children to join the military, and I don't appreciate that our country spends so much on the military and oversees missions when our own citizens suffer daily. Still, there is something about watching the Democratic National Convention that is inspirational.  First, I always admire people who feel passionately and act on their beliefs. I do believe that President Obama feels passionately about doing the right thing for our country.  I suppose that Mitt Romney does also, but  there's something about a man whose had money off the poor and middle class that rings false with me. Watching the speeches last night made me wish I could be a part of the energy and gave me hope for the future

It's the start of a 3 day weekend, in recognition of Labor Day.  Contrary to how things seem to go at our house over this traditional weekend, it's not the designated weekend to finish house chores before snow flies.   Labor Day is actually a day to recognize organized labor - unions for those of you who avoid euphemisms - and the importance of workers and collective action to our nation.  According to History.com ( http://www.history.com/topics/labor-day )  "On September 5, 1882, 10,000 workers took unpaid time off to march from City Hall to Union Square in New York City , holding the first Labor Day parade in U.S. history." The late 1800's were (to put it mildly) a tough time for the average American, when capitalism and the rise of business barons meant that cheap labor in mills and factories was desirable - for everyone except the workers, who averaged 12 hour days and sometimes were as young as 5 or 6. PBS ( http://www.pbs.org/newshour/updates/business/jul

My mom is at her 50 year high school reunion.  Ali is a senior in high school.  I wonder what her world will be like 50 years from now? Since I graduated a mere 25 years ago, a few things have changed.  We can Skype like they did on The Jetsons with their video phones.  I can talk to a device and find a directions, a shoe store, and send myself a reminder to call and make a hair appointment, not to mention call my husband.  Fax machines, which I first experienced in 1990, are now an almost out of date technology.   I take classes where I never see the teacher.  I can't fly with my Leatherman in my pocket and I have to take off my shoes before I can get on a plane.  The Soviet Union is no longer our largest nuclear threat.  Video games look real and instead of a joystick to play asteroids, I bowl with my Wii controller.   There are no more variety shows on television, and it seems very little real entertainment; something called "reality shows" have taken over.  MTV mus

September reminds me That I used to move. I was young once and was able to transition with the seasons. Summer was a time for work the funding needed for school, long dark winters, and beer. Youth allowed me to work three jobs and still find time to play and wake up on random beaches in my sleeping bag under my truck. With autumn came classes and moving back north and once it meant heading off to parts unknown. Tuition money also pays for gas by the liter, and beer in Canada, eh. Youth allows for selfishness and expects do now, think later.  Especially when home is there, to come back to, after adventures are done and spring returns. And now I am seasoned. Fall means school for kids, stacking wood for winter, and Carhardt jackets. But within, something remembers. And leaves yellowing and blowing across my windshield awaken the urge to move, to go somewhere most anywhere except where I have to be. My days of migration are done. I stay here

It's a rainy weekend.  We didn't go camping in our new tent, and we didn't finish putting up the greenhouse/shed.  We did get in some really good naps, some house cleaning, and a couple episodes of Eureka.  I guess that's a good weekend. The colors outside in the stormy weather look amazing.  I know that Alaska doesn't have the fall colors of New England and places, but the underbrush behind the studio has turned red.  The fireweed leaves are burning orange and the yellow leaves provide pops of color in the dull green of the canopy. The wind is moving everything, which makes outside feel alive.  If it were still, I think the rain would be depressing and grey.  The air swishing under the awning on the porch swing, the tinkling of the wind chimes, the leaves and noise all provide a burst of energy on what could be a doldrum kind of day. Driving home this morning, Bob commented that if we moved to the Oregon Coast, we would have a lot of grey, windy, rainy days l

First week of school is down.  For not being in the classroom, I'm totally exhausted.  Thank goodness for pajamas and a martini.  It's 5:00 somewhere, yes?? I'm also thankful for Fend For Yourself Fridays and the fact my son can cook for himself. ahhhhh

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I love fall.  Right now it's unseasonably warm in Fairbanks, but it still seems fallish.  We had folks over the other night for a cookout.  Evening started off warm and sunny and ended with us pulling out the fleece and Carhardts.  That's how a fall evening should end up.  I love it! Camping in the fall is the best.  Warm during the day, cool in the evening, and then when you wake up you can see your breath and feel the crisp air and know you're alive and life is good.  I always have loved moose hunting season, and still miss it after all these years. We just ordered a brand new tent.  The last one was purchased in 1997 and has seen some hard times with the kids and dogs.  This one is a family tent, but should get us easily through 3 seasons.  Our plan is to head north next weekend.  Bob wants to get as far as Atigun Pass, but I'm not sure we'll get there.  Atigun Pass had a blizzard warning last week, with 4-6 inches of snow expected.  Might be a little chilly

This year my son starts 4th grade. It seems like a big leap to me.  From primary grades to intermediate grades.  He gets to go on the big kids' playground at school. My fourth grade teacher was Iona Banks.  I always meant to go find her and tell her what an influence she had been on me, but I didn't do it before she passed away. In fourth grade I felt like I could do anything.  I loved to learn and somehow Mrs. Banks encouraged me to learn as much as I could about everything,  That was the year I grew mold in my room, and asked for a microscope so I could study things scientifically.  I remember going around the house and finding things to put under the microscope to study. I also learned about airplanes.  I remember sitting out in the hallway reading books and writing reports on military airplanes.  My interest may have been sparked by Tim Brandenburg, who was the cute curly-haired boy I crushed on, but I learned that I could read books - hard books - and learn on my own

It's that time of year.  The signs are all here.  The fair is looming.  A few yellow leaves are peaking through the underbrush.  The fireweed has bloomed to the top.  And school supplies are on sale.  Even though this will be my 2nd year out of the classroom, I still start jonesing for my classroom when August arrives. I still have all of my posters, wall quotes, letters - all waiting to go up on my classroom walls.  I've got a ton of great ideas of what I could teach this year.  New books, new ideas, and all the excitement I've always had.  Poor Ali; she's doing her AP English homework and I'm pouncing on her forcing her to discuss theme and symbolism with me.  I tried to assign a second companion reading to compare and discuss, but she told me to go away.  Discussing the relationship of the narrator and theme in A Prayer for Owen Meany just isn't fun by myself.   But, I still have the knowledge and the skill to help people unlock the secrets of literature. 

It's a beautiful morning up here on the hill.  Hubby headed to town so I had the rough task of sitting on the deck drinking coffee.  And the coffee was fun too!  I got one of those Keurig coffee makers where you pop in a little cup and end up with a decent cup of coffee.  No mess, no fuss and - because there's not a whole pot of coffee to drink - moderation.  I have to say that, although I miss my kiddos and having some noise in the house, I'm enjoying time alone with my honey.  Last night we drank sangria, and watched The Wire.  The nice part was that we could turn the volume up and hear it because we didn't have to worry about Jed hearing bad words.  (We try not to encourage his limit-pushing by limiting exposure to colorful vocabulary!) So I'm settling in to the child-less life and enjoying the reprieve.  I'll be very glad to have them home however.  Really.

So... Aileen left about 10 days ago to see family in Georgia, and a One Direction concert.  Yesterday, Bob and I put Jed on the plan to Seattle - by himself.  Mom drove up to get him, it was a straight shot flight, but it was a little hard on me.  I was a little blue yesterday.  The house was quiet and Bob and the dogs just didn't quite fill it.  Jed's having a blast at the beach with his cousins, Ali's at the cabin in the North Georgia mountains, Hannah's at her apartment doing her thing.  But today is a new day.  I got up and didn't have to fix anyone breakfast, remind a boy to feed the dogs, share the television, or even get dressed.  With no kids in the house, every day could be Naked Day!!  (okay, sorry to traumatize anyone... I guess we'll see if anyone still reads this blog by the number of bloodcurdling screams I get in response!) But I've discovered that, though it's been 9 years since we experienced this, I like hanging out at home with m

Many moons ago I posted about elevator etiquette.  I like to thwart it and make strangers uncomfortable when trapped in a small place with me.  This is another post about etiquette, but this time I'm genuinely perplexed. Here it is.... I work on the 4th floor of a building with one central women's restroom.  Often, when I go into the restroom there are other people in the vicinity.  Sometimes they're going out while I'm going in, which is an easy "Hello!" as I keep walking.  Sometimes they're at the sinks washing their hands and it's a bit more detailed:  "How are you doing? Good! I'm well also," as I walk in to the stall.  So here's the question - what is the etiquette about talking to people while they're (or you're) in the bathroom stall?  Here's an example... the other day I walked in, saw a co-worker washing her hands and said hello.  She said hello. We commented on the weather and I went in to the stall.  While I

I'm reading Jedidiah The Hobbit .  It's an old illustrated edition that was my dad's.  I need to remember how much I love reading to and with my kids.  In fact, as Jed gets older, I should be making a point to read even more.  Because when I read to him,  he still sits on my lap or snuggles. Here's a great list of great books.  Several are books I read as a kid and forgot about! 67 Books to read your child before s/he turns 10

My son has been singing a lot of "pop" song lately.  One of his favorites is a song by a band called The Wanted, "Glad You Came."  He's got the lyrics memorized and even does the sound effects.  It's starting to drive me crazy, actually.  But the interesting thing is that I started listening to the lyrics and asked him, "What's this song about, anyway?" "It doesn't have any meaning, it's just a song" he replied. "But what's it about?" I pressed.  (And then gave him my teacher mini-lecture on the difference between plot and theme.  It has to be about something, but doesn't necessarily need to have a meaning.) "I don't know." he answered.  But obviously he was thinking, because he went on to add, "Miss Laura Mae at Play-N-Learn said we lost our innocence by singing this song."  We went on with our discussion, and it became clear to me that he didn't understand that the singer

Teaching my boy to cook.  The flip side of teaching your child to be cautious about flames and knives is that he's nervous about being suddenly encouraged to use flames and knives.  But we've had the "they're tools that need to be used correctly" talk and its getting better.  He's mastered quesadillas in the microwave and is getting pretty good at hamburgers.  AND (this really warms the cockles of mom's heart) he knows that with the entree he needs some sort of vegetable, or two. It's a strange thing when your baby grows up, as millions have learned before me.  But it feels so personal when it's MY baby.  He looks taller, leaner.  He's doing so much more for himself.  I can leave him home alone when I go out for a walk.  I guess it's a reminder that change happens, and that each phase brings positives.  It's the same with other cycles isn't it?  Winter to spring, from bloom to seed, from baby to independent being.  And who kno

Watching a movie with Ali called The Pregnancy Projec t, based upon a  true story.  A teenager whose mother had her own first child at age 15 faked a pregnancy for her senior project.  She learned a lot about stereotypes, from family, friends and teachers.  I don't know that I would let my own child go through that, especially knowing the hostility that would happen when folks find out it was an act.  Still, I see how it could be an important social experiment. It's worth checking out - although I haven't seen the end of the movie yet to hear how it all turns out. Here's an excerpt from an article: According to the  Associated Press , Rodriguez was curious about how people would react if she appeared to follow in her family’s footsteps — then defied that expectation: In the top 5% of her class, Rodriguez participated in a leadership class and lectured her friends about safe sex. But she still heard the refrain — often from members of her own family — that s

Well, it's May 5.  Cinco de Mayo in some circles.  When I was in the classroom, this time of year was full of stressed out teens and parents, piles of grading left to finish and get entered, balancing my own kids' activities and schedules, and the overwhelming urge to chuck all the responsibilities and spend my time drinking mint juleps and digging in the dirt. This year, it's a little different.  Although Ali has been in her room doing homework for the last 6 hours, I'm not too stressed out.  I'm still struggling with the urges of springtime, and had to do several hours myself of finishing projects for my final class.  Once I get done with Chicago in June and presenting my portfolio, I'll have earned my masters in curriculum and instruction.  I'd been diligent as hell for the past two years, but these last 8 weeks have been tough.  I had surgery, traveled to Philly, drafted a CTE curriculum - it's just been busy.  But now, voila, I'm finished.

I just spent a week at the National Council of Teachers of Mathematics conference.  For those of you who know me, you can imagine my trepidation.  In fact, there was a lot to process... and to write about once I get my head wrapped around it all.   In fact, as ol' William would say " It was a sometime paradox, but now time has given it proof." (and happy belated birthday Mr. Shakespeare - you still da man)

   Earlier this week I had a second lumpectomy. I told Bob that I'm going to have so many scars on my breast that we can pretend its a treasure map and play X marks the spot! I find out on Monday whether there's anything to worry about, but likely its just another fibroadenoma and not cancerous.  So this weekend I get to sit around with some decent drugs and an ice pack on my boob.  It's turning a nice motley of greenish purple and blue.   And my advice to the women of the world, is not to put off a routine mammogram.  Do your breast exams and don't get too fat.   Trust me.

Overhead conversation - Boy:  I told my gym teacher that I was learning to do the snatch. Dad:  Cool.  What did he say? Boy:  He didn't know what the snatch is. Dad:  So did you explain it to him? Boy:  Yes I did.  I told him it was one of the styles of olympic lifting. Dad: Did he know what olympic lifting is? Boy:  He knows what the Olympics are. For some reason, this was really funny.  My boys are such dorks.

I don't apologize for who I am.  Lately I've had some, let's say, "negative response" for some of my Facebook posts and my political leanings.  Let me get a few things straight. I believe in equal rights for all people, including gays, transgendered, immigrants, and even Republicans.  I want all people in my country to have access to health care, not just the wealthy.  If that makes me a Socialist, so be it.  I like Obamacare.  I want my leaders to be intelligent and don't thinking wanting kids to go college makes me a snob. I have a membership in the NRA, but think gun control in many respects makes perfect sense and doesn't often threaten my right to bear arms.  I have sincere faith and belief in God, but I don't think she wants to run our country and I don't think she appreciates small-minded bigots claiming that the KJV is the literal word of the lord, or that cavemen cavorted with dinosaurs.  I believe the war on women by the Christian right

Took the dog for a walk today which, I agree, is not that big of a deal.  However.....(wait for it!) I did it without wearing gloves or a hat!!  Spring is giving us clues that it will eventually come.  Granted, I'm not willing to put my winter gear away just yet, but this glimpse of sunshine will keep me going until spring really gets here. 

My baby turns 9 years old today.  He's been flying high & having a great day.  It's a little bittersweet for me.  I love my son.  He's thoughtful, funny, strong-willed, and can be as annoying as possible.  He loves his family, and his dogs, and math.  He like practical jokes and snuggling.   He talks constantly, has a lively vocabulary, and says things that seem wise beyond his years. I love watching him grow and change, but I mourn for the days of having a little one.  I remember so clearly the night I went into labor, and the way he looked sleeping in a bassinet that first night at home.  I remember when the only way to distract him if Bob and I were leaving him home with a sitter was to show him "ups!" (weightlifting videos).  I remember how much he loved to strip himself nekid, no matter the time or place, and streak around doing his booty dance.  I remember when he decided that he was a supporter of Obama in 2008 and asked me to buy him a shirt to wear

A pregnant Irish woman from Dublin gets in a car accident and falls into a deep coma. Asleep for nearly 6 months, when she wakes up she sees that she is no longer pregnant and frantically asks the doctor about her baby. The doctor replies, 'Ma'am you had twin - ! a boy and a girl!  Your brother from Cork came in and named them.' The woman thinks to herself, 'Oh No, not my brother... he's an idiot!' So she asks the doctor, 'Well, what's the girl's name?' 'Denise.' he replies. 'Wow, that's not a bad name, I like it! What's the boy's name?' 'Denephew.'

Part Two: Nature LXXXVII ~Emily Dickinson D EAR March, come in! How glad I am! I looked for you before. Put down your hat— You must have walked—         5 How out of breath you are! Dear March, how are you? And the rest? Did you leave Nature well? Oh, March, come right upstairs with me,         10 I have so much to tell!    I got your letter, and the bird’s; The maples never knew That you were coming,—I declare, How red their faces grew!         15 But, March, forgive me— And all those hills You left for me to hue; There was no purple suitable, You took it all with you.         20    Who knocks? That April! Lock the door! I will not be pursued! He stayed away a year, to call When I am occupied.         25 But trifles look so trivial As soon as you have come, That blame is just as dear as praise And praise as mere as blame.

(and no, my mom isn't the antique...) So I got to leave Alaska for spring break.  I think its the first time ever!  And I left behind my kids, my dogs, and my husband to enjoy a girls' week with my mom and my sister.  It was also the first time I was getting to see the house now that it's done! The morning I left Alaska it was -16 degrees.  I got off the plane 5 hours later in Portland to sunshine an 50 degrees above zero.  Ahhhh.  Plus my sister greeted me at the airport, and we stopped at Trader Joe's.  These are all good things.  Zippy trip to the coast, mom and wine waiting at the house - life was good. And then armageddon began.  Over the next five days I experienced at least three nights of hurricane (75mph+) force winds, hail the size of marbles, record-setting snowfall and rain like I had never seen before.  It was crazy. In fact, it was so crazy that one night, after I had crawled into my snuggly bed, my mom came to get me.  "Sweetie's barking

My awesome 6 year old nephew was under the impression that on St. Patty's day, leprechauns come to your house and hide gold.  When his mom shared this with me, I had to set the record straight.  On St. Patrick's day, the sneaky little leprechauns come to your house to STEAL your treasures.  But I told Miles how to deal with them.  You see, if you can catch a leprechaun, they have to grant you a wish and tell you where their pot of gold is hidden.  So I told Miles the secret.... take peanut butter and spread it all around your bed on the floor of your room.  That way the leprechauns get stuck in the peanut butter and can't steal your treasure! Can't wait to hear if it worked.... he he heh.....

"So died a man both great and good, who, like all the erring human race, mingled some defects with his virtues; yet they were with him so open and natural that they enable us the better to feel the reality of his excellences, as part of a character that is set before us in all its merely human proportions, and claims no ideal perfection." http://www.queenofscots.co.uk/culloden/cull.html I'm missing my dad tonight.

Last time I was in Anchorage, I stayed in a "reputable" hotel.  In reality, it was kinda yucky.  Thin, scratchy sheets.  Rough towels.  No room in the bathroom. I mean, it was clean and the staff was nice, but it was just ugh. Tonight I'm hanging in style at the Embassy Suites.  Awesome bed, fast internet to work on my homework, big tvs, spacious well lit bathroom.  I'm digging it. This week has been frustrating because there simply haven't been enough hours in the day to get everything done that I need to.  At least tonight I can relax and sleep well before getting started in meetings tomorrow.  I'm really loving my new job, but I'm constantly feeling like I'm behind the learning curve.  I know that the next time I do things, it'll go much more smoothly, but in the meantime I'm frustrated that I don't have it all clicking along as I'd like it to.  Tonight I'm going to pretend that I'm on top of my game and just enjoy the

So today I finished my second to last class.  One more to go and I'll have earned my Masters of Arts in Curriculum and Instruction.  Whew.  Been a long time since I've matriculated.  It's been fun and stimulating, but I'll be glad to finish up.  The funny thing is I've applied to another program starting next fall.... it just keeps going. Funny, I don't feel any smarter.

One night, Mrs Mcmillen answers the door to see her husband's best friend, Paddy, standing on the doorstep.  "Hello Paddy, but where is my husband? He went with you to the beer factory." Paddy shook his head sadly, "Ah Mrs Mcmillen, there was a terrible accident at the beer factory. Your husband fell into a vat of Guinness Stout and drowned." Mrs Mcmillen starts crying, "Oh don't tell me that!  Did he at least go quickly?" Paddy shakes his head, "Not really, he got out 3 times to pee."

No, it's not an oxymoron.  In honor of the month of St. Pat's day, we're celebrating things Irish.  Today we get some wisdom, and a joke. Irish proverb: May you have warm words on a cold evening, a full moon on a dark night, and the road downhill all the way to your door. Mel's Joke: What's green and sits on your porch??? (wait for it....) Patty O' Furniture (get it, patio furniture!!)

If I were 18 again, I think I'd study to become a heavy equipment operator or diesel mechanic.  Work when I want making decent money - hooray for affirmative action and non-traditional occupation quotas.  I would leave at the end of the day able to see what I'd accomplished  Granted, I wouldn't get to talk a lot about Shakespeare, except to myself, and I wouldn't get to laugh at teenagers.  But I'd accomplish something and I'd have choices about where and when to work.  I'd be outside and I'd be physically challenged.  If I were 18 again. But I'm not. Not even close.  And this path has been good so far.

So the boy gets this goop called Flarp! at a birthday party yesterday.  Who knew so much fun could come in a little container?  Flarp! is this florescent green "noise making putty." When it's squeezed, it makes, ummm, fart noises.  So you can imagine why my 8 year old likes it so much.  There was much "noise making" and innuendo about  gaseous emissions until bedtime. So the second part of this tale is that while Bob's away, Jed's been sleeping with me.  It's only the two of us, plus the dogs, in the house so we might as well bunk together.  Last night I put him to bed as usual, watched a little Eureka , and then went to bed myself as the boy snored. At 4:00 this morning, I got up to go to the bathroom, and when I got back upstairs, Jed was sitting up in bed.  " There's something in my pants ," he tells me. " What do you mean there's something in your pants? "  (This is a dangerous question to ask an 8 year old, espe

I'm not anti-American, or even anti-government. I am anti-war. I'm also anti-hate, anti-hypocrisy, anti-prejudice and anti-meanness.  There are a lot of people in this world that I don't agree with and some whom I don't respect for their choices.  But I don't believe any of us have the right to impose our moral beliefs on others, and I don't believe that self-declared morality provides any excuse to take away or diminish the rights of others.  No matter what religion you are, liberal or conservative, we all know what it means to be decent.  Be decent to everyone, assume good intent on the part of others, and protect those who can't protect themselves. Civil rights aren't an issue of a majority vote.  In our country we stand up for the rights of the minority - remember when slavery was legal, women weren't allowed to vote, it was okay to fire someone who was handicapped?   I don't want a president who is going to use his or her morality, or relig