Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Thank goodness for the people in the Business Office, HR, Financial Aid and Counseling offices that do the Halloween dress-up thing proper. Even on this campus, there's no mistaking a witch with a purple feathered hat or a man in top hat and tails for standard college kids. Dr. Blair from Disabled Student Services in her black leather, spiked wrist bands, tattoos and piercings would have blended in had I not recognized her face. It's fun having such a diverse population to work around. Is this a great country or WHAT?!
Sunday, October 28, 2007
This was just a standard apple pie save for the bits of thyme I added. I’ve been trying that more lately since I’m always overrun with fresh herbs from the garden and looking for new places to use them. Peach and basil pie was also to die for.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Here’s another question…. since these parents had no choice to be out of town so they really had no control over what was going on in their absence….Where did the parents of the guest kids think they were all night? Staying at Suzy’s? Did they call Suzy’s house – not her cell, duh -- to check? Who provided the alcohol? And the kids that had a curfew, what condition were they in when they left? What pisses me off and scares the crap outta me all at once is that my family may have been out there on the road with drunk kids leaving that party. Friends and family could have been killed by yet another car load full of kids from hell. Mark had driven to pick up Gloria. Gloria’s friends that have licenses were driving themselves home with minimal driving experience which means without the ability to avoid an accident that might happen to them. Monica was probably coming back to her place after a late night out. They were out on the road when drunk teenagers may have been on the road. I am SO angry.
So here’s the deal….were YOUR kids at a toga dance at school on Friday night? Where did they go afterwards? Where did they spend the night? Where are they now….Saturday morning and in what condition? Did you check their breath? I was a teenager once. If my kids are out late, they MUST come and kiss me good night. Warm and cuddly, perhaps, but I’m also checking breath and they know it. If your friends have high school age kids, please forward this blog to them. Somebody has to start asking the hard questions of their kids. Sixteen doesn’t mean, “Here’s the keys. Thank goodness I don’t have to drive you anymore”. For me, it was “Here’s the keys. Now I will worry more than when you were five and walking home from the bus stop alone.”
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
You may have seen the essay about the date on a headstone showing the birth date and death date with the dash in between. The important part of life is how you spend that “dash”…I suppose we all worry about who will show up at our funeral or what will be said in our obituary. Not so morose if we give it thought BEFORE the time comes, while we still have time to modify what time we have left. I realized that the people whose opinions matter most are my girls.
Should a parent have to be reminded to enjoy their kids? Actually, when the kids are in their teens and beyond, we DO have to be reminded. When children are little and….more malleable….moldable, it’s easy to enjoy them. Even during the terrible twos and threes when they’re finding power in the word “NO”, you can balance a crazy day with them standing on a stool helping to mix cookies or rocking them to sleep or cuddling with a bedtime story. Once kids hit their teens, the talks are more serious and the nagging more frequent. The eye-rolling…oh don’t get me started with eye-rolling. You get so used to everything being a “teaching” opportunity that you forget to stop when they stop hearing you.
But, I am getting to a point where something Dr. Phil said has hit home. Kids reach a point where you’ve taught them all you can. You’ve given them every lecture and pointed out every flaw in their study-plan. At this point, all you can do is sit back and watch. Be there to celebrate the victories and hug them through the failures. At this point, they need to use all of the ammunition you’ve given them and make the best shot at the target that they can -- maybe even blast out the entire bullseye. Or as we say in our house…we have given them the rope. Now it’s up to them to water ski or hang themselves. I have no doubt they will water ski like champs.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Bill Carlson passed away a couple of weeks ago and, since I hadn’t seen Linda in more than 30 years, I felt compelled to head down for the memorial. It was more of a wake and we saw SO many faces from the past while we reminisced and laughed at pictures. We’ve all grown so much into different adults than we were kids.
Mark and I decided we needed this weekend to ourselves so spent it just driving around old haunts. Remember when this was built? Or that was an empty lot? We walked a bit on
I often miss
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
I’m not qualified to critique a performance but I do tend to critique the audiences of shows I attend. I’m one of those that hates when a performer rips it up on a section of a song and the audience applauds in appreciation … right over the top of the continuing song. Not this audience. You could hear a pin drop when he covered the Beatles’ “In My Life”, the title track on his new mini-CD, and George Harrison’s “While My Guitar Gently Weeps’. I’m never sure why people insist on bringing small children to shows like this. Even the best toddler gets bored and the most bestest whisperer whispers REAL LOUD. There are more appropriate places to teach small kids how to be a good audience…or do what we did, sit in the back and take them out the second they make noise. Before long, they figure out they miss stuff when they make noise.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Several months back, I received a “sweetie” from someone who I believe to be an equal though her tone told me unmistakably she felt I was FAR below her station”. The “sweetie” told me that I just didn’t have the brains to figure this one out without her help.
Today, the “sweetie” came from a girl in a local shop. I went to buy supplies for a craft project. I chose not to go to Michael’s for this because the products they carry of this type have been poor quality. When I talked to this girl, I presumed I could get benefit of her knowledge of the products she sells. When I mentioned what I had been using, I got the first “oh sweetie…….” “What an utter and complete incompetent must I be to even THINK of using THAT” her tone said. We chatted a little more as she packaged up the items I bought - $20 worth that fit into a bag the size of my iPod. As I asked another question about another part of the process….again I get “oh sweetie.....” that just faded off. This is a girl the age of my daughter speaking to me, a customer, with such a demeaning, condescending tone. Not unkindly, mind you. Sweet and kind, like you might speak to a poor stupid animal. She could have easily said, “hmmm, I hadn’t thought of doing it THAT way…this is the way I do it….I’ve always had luck doing it this way”. I would have been thrilled to have a helpful suggestion from someone who knows what they are doing. But she didn't. And I left confident that my ignorance would be discussed among the employees at a later date.
The thing is, this is a locally owned shop and there are several others just like it. I chose this shop today but likely won’t do it again. I will go into another locally-owned similar businesses where I have been treated politely in the past and received help when I asked.
Here’s my suggestion. If you are a business-owner in
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Friday, October 12, 2007
I’m at THAT AGE….it sucks but the influx of hormones that got us into trouble in our teens, get us into more trouble when we start running low in our fifties. I started checking into herbal menopause remedies. I knew about St. Johns Wort but the articles state it's use is for depression. I truly didn’t feel depressed and didn’t want to get into taking the herbal equivalent of prozac. I looked at Black Cohosh which is indicated for malaise (being a whiney sad-sack) and menopausal symptoms like hot flashes. I’m not yet at the stage of having my own private summers but I AM beginning to see signs of what they call perimenopause, a “transition period” of fluctuating hormones. So, why not.... Black Cohosh went in the basket to be taken twice a day.
I’m here to tell you, I’M CURED! Well, maybe not cured but I feel much better. Maybe it’s a placebo affect. Maybe no one is PISSING ME OFF as much…joking again…but I am feeling in better spirits. So, to all my friends who are still in possession of their girl organs so are going through this same stage, try the Black Cohosh. Be warned that “currently available data are not sufficient to support a recommendation”, yeah yeah. Call this purely anecdotal but it’s better than getting more wrinkles from having a cranky face. Take your Black Cohosh and a walk on the beach. Smile.
And to the men who might be on the receiving end of this...be kind, bring chocolate and hugs...I suspect it will get worse before it gets better.
I have a rubber stamp that says I just get through metamorphosis and a long comes menopause….Thank God, I’m not alone.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
I stepped out on the back porch this morning to let the cats in and caught a glimpse of perfectly awesome cumulus cloud (Dr. Pedicino would be proud of me) in orange and dark gray. I stood out there for a minute, reveling in the wind blowing through my hair. When I sat down at the table, Mark looked up from his paper and laughed…”Were you outside?” “Yeah. Why?”. “Your hair’s kinda... big…” Yep, nature’s blow-dryer gave me a big ol’ Farrah Fawcett. I love the fall!