Christmas Music

I don't know if everyone is like this, but I have a definite favorite when it comes to Christmas music. Several years ago, Jeff put the old Christmas albums my folks had on cd. He also made his own midi music cd and gave that to many friends and family as an extra gift from him. He took midi files and tweaked them so they had a sound he liked. They are pretty good and my brother Chris admits that he puts that cd on at work from about Halloween on, untill the folks in his office are about ready to rush him, grab the thing and crack it over his head, as it is practically all he listens to all season. Now maybe Jeff is feeling the same toward me and my favorite. I listen to it practically every time I sit down at the computer. It is called Shell Christmas and was put out by the Shell Oil people back in the 60's or 70's. There were two records in the set with a snow scene on the cover. It is the nadir for me in terms of seasonal music. I listen to it so much, I can start humming the next tune as soon as the last one ends and before the next starts. It is the epitome of cozy Christmas feeling that takes me right back to 331 Woodland Drive and the big hifi. Since it was recorded from the LP, it has the record noise that so many people fight against. I really don't want a cleaned up version, it just wouldn't be the same. I like the skips and fuzz. It has no famous singers, the songs are all choral and happy, a good mix of the religious and the secular. I can't see how anyone could object to it. Maybe I'll just have to start listening to it with my headphones?

Homebodies

We've had a week of unusual activity and none of us seem to like it much. Monday, Steven had his first orchestra concert of the school year. The fourth graders from three different schools in the district performed with the high school orchestra. It was done at the hs auditorium and was fun to watch, but Steven had some difficulty in that the bridge of his violin broke before the concert and he had to perform with a borrowed, larger violin and a borrowed bow. He wasn't happy guy. At least the music store will replace the violin with no charge. On Tuesday, we went to the annual Boy Scout cake auction. The theme was the Olympics. We went a little outside the box and called ours "Chicken Diving" for obvious reasons. It was well received and made $18 for the pack. On Wednesday, Sylvie had her weekly middle school youth church and Steven and I had to go and shop for new boots for him. Apparently, his feet are growing (excuse the pun) by leaps and bounds. He had to have a new pair 2 1/2 sizes larger than the pair I bought just last year!! Consequently, he got new tennies too. Tonight, I have to work from 7-11pm and Jeff has an orientation at church to join the tech team. All of us have commented at least once this week how little home time we've had and that we don't care for evening life to be this busy. I think we'd all better get used to it. I don't see that life with a teen and a preteen will probably be getting slower in the future! People out there with more than two kids, how do you handle it all? I'm happy to take any and all advice. Anne

Marco's Voice

My sister’s dog died yesterday. It was sudden and very sad. The loss of a loved one is never easy and some may think it strange to mourn an animal, but humans are made to love. I believe God, in His wisdom, gave us animals to share our vast stores of love with. Margaret and her family certainly did that with Marco. One of the best and most interesting things that they shared with Marco was his voice. I don’t know if many dogs do this, but he talked. They heard his voice and gave us his words and his accent. It was something that became very much a part of their family life. Marco spoke, the same as any of the rest of them. He had opinions, complaints, love words and nicknames for them. He even was occasionally included on cards to others, usually with his name and a small drawing of a dog’s head with its tongue hanging out and the words “Lit, lit” next to it. I'll miss that little dog head on my cards. I’ll miss how he said, “Modwod(Margaret), Marster(Master), lit(lick),wid(really) and pint(pink).” His lexicon even contributed to my own family’s vocabulary at times, but not often, as it seemed silly to voice someone who was not there at the time. It’s hard to describe Marco’s voice if you haven’t heard it. It had a certain babyish quality without the highness usually associated with a baby voice. The low voice made sense, he was a big dog. His k’s were all t’s(see pint). The voice fit a large furry lover. I think, of all the things to miss about him, we'll miss his voice the most.

Bike Riding

I have a new bike. I saw these bikes out in Colorado when we were there in June. The brand is Electra and the model is Hawaii. It looks like something out of the 40's or 50's with fenders and big fat whitewall tires. There are flowers on the frame, seat and even the tires! I saw the first one locked to a post outside a shop in Durango. I think it was pink. Sylvie and I both admired it. Then, it seemed, every time we turned around, there it was again, in another color. Sylvie was particularly good at seeing them and the phrase, "Look mom, there's another one!" rang out frequently. We saw them in orange and blue and yellow. This seemed to be the "It" bike of Durango and every woman we saw riding them was cool by association. When we got home, this bike kept calling to me. I looked them up on the internet and kept looking. I finally went to a bike store to see one in person. They had an orange one from last year, but wouldn't you know it, all that hesitation meant that they had sold it...two days before I got there. I went home a bit dejected. I talked about it over dinner thinking talking was as far as it would go. After all, my old bike, even at age 14, was still good. Jeff, after hearing me talk about it all through the meal, said, "Think of it as an anniversary gift from me. Go get it." (Isn't he the sweetest thing?) I sat there for minute in disbelief, finally saying, "Really?" Then, getting the nod, I wasted no time getting back to the bike store to order one of my own! The result is the beautiful green bike you can see in the picture. I lurve it! I feel like a French girl riding to the market. I am on it most every day and biking about four miles. Sylvie and I did do six miles one day to the local library, but four is the norm. I find I have to force myself to rest every few days as my knees aren't up to the exertional challenge yet...bummer. I have found a circle route through a park that I really enjoy. There is a place on the route that goes through the woods and over a short wooden bridge. The path has a spot that reminds me so much of biking in the airport woods as a kid. It is cool and piney and I feel about 10 when I'm there. The sense of nostalgia is poignant. I hope my legs will soon strengthen enough to allow daily rides without pain, but I will still ride even if I have to hurt, just because it is so fun! Take a look at www.electrabikes.com for more cool bikes if you like what you see. Anne

You Lookin' at Me???

I am thrilled and a bit taken aback by my weight loss progress. To date, I have lost 53 pounds since last August (35 since March). I am now into size 10! I think they must have changed the sizes since the last time I was this weight (back in 1992), because I wasn't wearing 10's then, unless it was a rare, "big 10", and I was 18 pounds lighter then! I am still thrilled by the idea of 10, though. I bought a new shirt over the weekend (it is a medium), and it makes ME look tiny! TINY??? ME??? That is a word I never thought I would associate with myself. It's kind of weird. Thanks to all of you whom have been so supportive. Anne

Things that Break

A few weeks ago, I was putting away clean dishes, including my small pyrex casserole dish. Ray and Linda gave us a set of several pyrex dishes when we got married 20 years ago. I loved them and I used them all the time. When I put the smaller dish into the larger, the larger one shattered like a car windshield that had been hit with a brick. It just fell apart into a million pieces on the shelf. It was startling, sudden and a bit sad. A few pieces spit out of the cabinet onto the floor, but most of them just flattened. There was no fixing it. The fixer in me was flummoxed. All I could do was reach into the dark cabinet with a small whisk broom and sweep the bits and pieces into a dust pan and throw it away, then go out and get a new one.
Just a couple of days later, I heard from my brother that he and his wife are getting a divorce. It is amicable and both are in agreement that they just don't love each other anymore. This shattering of a marriage is less sudden, but no less startling or sad. They will hopefully be happier as individuals, but certainly any divorce has ripple effects that no one can predict. There must always be some ambivalence at the breaking of a life lived together, even for a short time. Some things just cannot be put back together, no matter how hard you may want to try. Some things are not your business to even try to fix, no matter how much you may want to. With my brother and his wife, all I can do is pray and help with practical things when asked. The fixer in me is flummoxed again. I can't do it, no one can, and that is the saddest part of all.

Have Your Cake and Eat it Too

I was just sitting thinking about that phrase. The idea of having something and eating it, but still having it. The thought that you could eat or use something without sacrificing it. I was thinking about it not so much in the philosophical sense as is the actual physical, eating, sense. I was actually wishing for a never ending chocolate chip cookie, or maybe a never ending pizza slice. Did you ever wish for something like that? Something you could eat, that would maybe change into another thing you could eat, without having to get up and get it, would never make you feel full and gross, never make you fat? The penultimate lazy man's foodstuff? I get like this sometimes when I am craving something, but not really hungry. I don't even know what it is I'm craving, because when I actually start mentally listing things I could eat, I don't want them: crackers? nope, candy? nope, cheese, chips, chili, chimichangas? nope, nope, nope, nope! Somebody help me! What is this mysterious food I am craving? Will I have to settle for "eating around a craving" for the next few days until I discover what it is I actually want? Like Templeton, the rat at the fair, eating a bit of everything? The thought of it makes me a little bit sick...and full.

Colorado, Fortunately....Unfortunately

Fortunately, we took a trip to Colorado, unfortunately, the train through Iowa was flooded out and couldn't run. Fortunately, we could drive to Omaha and catch a bus to Denver to start our trip, unfortunately, our tickets were incorrect. Fortunately, the agent in Omaha was very helpful and quickly changed the tickets and issued us a refund, unfortunatley, the bus was crowded and two ladies sat behind me and Sylvie (and talked very loudly from 2 to 3am!) and sleep was next to impossible. Fortunately, our rental car was a van that held all of us and our luggage easily, unfortunately, Jeff decided to add two more activities to the first driving day and it became very long! Fortunately, Colorado National Monument was beautiful and well worth the detour, unfortunately, Grand Mesa was something of a disappointment, but we did find a small gallery and winery shop at the end of it and bought a bottle of wine. Fortunately, our cabin and campground were just great! Fortunately, Mesa Verde was really awe-inspiring and very interesting to visit, unfortunately, Kenny wasn't able to make the climbs up and down with us. Fortunately, we booked the Durango and Silverton narrow gauge railroad trip way in advance and got to make that trip, unfortunately, Silverton wasn't all it was cracked up to be and Sylvie cried at lunch because the restaurant was, "ugly and tacky! sob sob sob!" Fortunately, even the "tacky" souvenir shops were fun an we found some good stuff. Fortunately, Sylvie and I got to go on a two hour horse-back ride up in the mountains and saw divine scenery, unfortunatley, 2 hours on a horse??? I had pains in areas of my body that I didn't even know could hurt(my kidneys hurt for two days)!! Fortunately, we drove to Four Corners and got to stand at the junction of four states, unfortunately it was a big concrete slab in the middle of nowhere that took 2 hours to get to! Fortunately, the car made the trek through the mountains without issues and we got back to Grand Junction in one piece, unfortunately, the train was still not running through Iowa, waaaah! Fortunately, the ticket agent was able to correct things and give us a refund, unfortunately, it wasn't as much as we expected and we still had to ride the bus back to Omaha. Fortunately, the train to Denver arrived in Grand Junction right on time, unfortunately, we had to wait for a couple of repair crews to clear the tracks and it made us an hour late! Fortunately, we got lunch in the dining car with our first class accomodation, unfortunately, they didn't serve dinner due to the lack of time, so despite not getting into Denver until 8:30pm, we had no dinner!:( Fortunately, we were off the train fast and arrived first at the bus, unfortunately, the bus driver tried to close the door on us and told us we couldn't get on yet as they didn't have the "express vs. local" situation figured out yet. Fortunately, there was to be an Amtrak person there to help figure things out, unfortunately, there wasn't one and noone showed up until I went into the station 45 minutes later and talked to the agent in the ticket window! Fortunately, she came out and sorted it out, unfortunately, there wasn't anyone that needed to get off the bus before Omaha and so they could have just let us on the busses and driven all of us there in the first place! DUUHHHH...... Fortunatley, the bus was a bit more comfortable than the one we rode last week, unfortunately, the driver never introduced himself or made any announcements for bathroom breaks or anything! Fortunately, there were more empty seats on this bus, unfortunately, I was on the opposite side of the bus from my family and I had a panic attack (from fatigue and lack of food) and feared that their side of the bus would be sheared off in a wreck and I would lose them all and the kids also cried due to hunger and I felt like the worst mom ever. Fortunately, we got out of Denver quickly and were soon on the highway, unfortunately, we got diverted off the highway by a police car surrounded by flares and the bus driver had no clue what to do! Fortunately, he was able to call the other driver and get back on the highway after about 20 minutes. Fortunately, the kids were able to get some sleep and the bus arrived on time to Omaha, unfortunately, this time there was an old couple behind us and the man was nearly deaf and he shouted a lot all night. Fortunately, our car was still in the parking lot with all of its tires and gas, unfortunately, there had been a wind storm in Omaha that night and half of the town was without power. Fortunately, Jeff felt ok to drive, unfortunately, we couldn't find a good restaurant, the one we stopped at said it was an Embers, but it was a dump and smelled like pee, so we left. Fortunately, we found a McDonald's a few miles down the highway. Fortunately, I fell asleep in the van and Jeff made awesome time to Des Moines, unfortunately, when I took over the driving there was a huge rain shower! Fortunately, we were able to drive out of it and make it home around 3:15pm! Home never felt so good! Back to regular life. Anne

Aaaaaaaaaand.....They're Off!

Pulling out of the gate at 1:30pm and making a bit of a slow start, driving to Omaha, Nebraska instead of Osceola, Iowa. Making sure we have plenty of time to arrive before 9:30pm when the station opens. Due to the flooding in Iowa, the train is not running until we get to Denver, so we are taking a bus overnight to get to Denver. Would have rather had our comfy little sleepers than sleeping out in the middle of everything on the bus, but what are you gonna do? Arrive in Denver about 7:00am and get on the train to round the final turn into Grand Junction from there. Then the trip proceeds as planned. Even with the hassle of the bus, we consider ourselves blessed to be able to get to go on the trip anyway. Please pray for all of the people who have been inconvenienced and displaced by the flooding. Love, Anne

Future Blog Entry Titles

I was just sitting around here with Jeff discussing the possibility of having to drive our vacation (instead of taking the train) to Colorado due to the flooding in Iowa and I am calm while Jeff is excitable. Earlier in the week, the feelings were reversed. This is typical of our marriage and one of the reasons it works so well.
While thinking on this, I got the idea to make a list of potential titles for future entries. This came to mind when I said, "He's gone plum crazy, Ma!" and elicited a chuckle from my currently unhappy husband. So, that is the first title. Here's a starter list of more:

- He's Gone Plum Crazy, Ma!

-Pigs in a Blanket

-How Full is too Full?

-When Did Hats Come Back in Style?

-12 hours in a Car...Nobody Wins

-Good Anne!

-How to Turn a Tiger into Butter

-Why Dress a Cat in Doll Clothes?

Oh, this could go on and on! Anne

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YouTube - Captain Kangaroo 1976

Here is the song from Captain Kangaroo fom the mid-70's. I love this. I still remember all the words! YouTube - Captain Kangaroo 1976

My Baby!

Did everyone see Steven's new glasses? I was really mourning his little face without them, but then he put them on and it was ok. I am much more resistant to changes with Steve than I am with Sylvie. I think it's because he's my youngest and any change reminds me that I don't have babies anymore. I know my kids aren't babies, but these concrete reminders really hit hard. I guess I expect Sylvie to be the trail blazer, as the oldest, so her changes are more in the line of, "Wow, look at my beautiful young lady!" With Steve, I always feel just a litlle bit sad, well at least until the event happens. Once it does, it just becomes the new reality and life moves on. It helps that he really looks good in these new specs, doesn't he? Love, Anne

Did You Pod That?

I've been doing a lot of thinking about ipods lately. I got a shuffle last year for my birthday after seeing one on my brother-in-law Tom. His is silver. It is so tiny! Mine is neon pink, a nod to my inner seven-year-old ballerina. I change the songs about every three months or so, but I find I do have a core of songs that stay. I think you could tell a lot about a person by what they have on their MP3 player. On mine, for instance, there is about 8 hours of music. What does that say? I think is says that I like the idea that I can carry that much music with me, or maybe that I like to have a wide selection. There is a section with 70's and
80's music. That brings back some of the best memories of my childhood. There is a section of quiet stuff. Most of these songs come from movie soundtracks from my adult years. That is not to say that the songs are new, no, they tend to be standards from the oldie old days. Right now, "When I Fall in Love" is playing. This is from "Sleepless in Seattle", one of my favorite movies. There are also a couple of Broaway soundtracks on here. Everything on my ipod is something that makes me happy. I listen to this stuff and it makes me feel good and gets me going or, relaxes me. I think it's really great to be able to carry that around with me. Anne

The Sounds of a Childhood Summer

As I was lying in bed trying to sleep after my last night shift, I heard the civil defense siren. It gets tested here on the first Wednesday of every month. Since I hear it so rarely, and usually in the response to dangerous weather, it never fails to strike just a bit of fear in my heart. This is a shame actually, since, as a child, this was just one of thousands of sounds that made up the daily summer aural milieu. I feel an auditory trip down memory lane coming on…
The noon whistle, that’s what we called it, the daily “test” of the CDS in the town where I grew up. It was never scary. Just that daily time reminder, “Hey kids, lunchtime!” it seemed to shout. It was most prevalent in the summer months, when we would likely be out on bicycles when the time approached. It was our signal to ride on home for cheese sandwiches (or whatever the current favorite happened to be) and comic books and a break from the heat for awhile in the cool of the dining room and some catching up time with Mom.
Mourning doves. That’s a sound that never fails to conjure up summer mornings, when it was still a little cool out and the dew had yet to dry on the grass. Actually, I thought they were called “morning doves” until I was told differently when I was a teen. I wish I had never been told that. I preferred to think they got their name from the time of day they seemed to be the loudest, not because they sounded sad. I never thought they did. I loved their call. The soft, low, “whoo, whoo, whooo ” that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. I still love it and never fail to smile and tilt my head to listen harder when I hear it.
My dad’s really loud, piercing whistle that he used to call us home in the evenings when we were out in the neighborhood. It could be heard a long block away. That was the signal for, “Ok kids, you’ve played out in the sun long enough. It’s time for baths and snacks and bed now. Come on home.” Just thinking about that one has me teary eyed.
Crickets, and later, locusts, chirping in the trees. When we moved to Missouri, it was fall, so I had to wait until June to hear locusts for the first time. If you’ve never heard the sounds of thousands of locusts whirring all summer, it’s hard to imagine the constant, loud sound they make. It really freaked me out at first. Who could believe that BUGS could make that kind of noise! Now that I live back up north, I kind of miss it. Who would have thought?
Lawn mowers buzzing almost constantly on Saturdays. Our neighbor across the street, Mr. Houston, mowed his lawn every three days, without fail. He had a great lawn. I guess if you’re retired and need some alone time, there are worse things you could do.
A thunderstorm at night. The kind that start as a low rumble in the distance, move over your house like a steamroller and then fade away again. I used to be afraid of thunder. So much that I once pulled down the curtain rod in my parent’s bedroom while trying to hide from it. Then my mom told me about how they come and go. After that, I was too fascinated listening to the phenomena to be afraid.
Kids on bikes with playing cards stuck in the spokes. I don’t know who came up with this idea, but is there a kid anywhere under the age of ten who doesn’t think this is cool? Something as simple and cheap as a playing card that can turn your everyday bike into the greatest sounding motorbike around? I bet there are a lot of adults who still wish they could stick the king of hearts on their bike tire and whiz around like Speed Racer.
These are just a few of the sounds of my childhood in the summer. I think that most of them are universal and heard by millions of people every day, small things that make our lives richer and more interesting. Life is good. Anne

1000 Words

I’ve read a series of books in my adulthood in which the main character asserts that he can “write a thousand words on any topic”. This got me to thinking. What do a thousand words look like, a long paragraph or a short article? Is there much difference? I decided to dust off my own rusty writing skills and see what I could do with that self imposed assignment.
I don’t think I could make such a bold assertion. Could I write on “any topic”? I myself will be the first to admit that I don’t know much about much. Unlike my spouse, to whom an assignment like this would probably give fodder for years and years of long paragraphs, or short articles. He can successfully discuss just about anything, with anyone, especially if he knows them well. He is innately a shy guy, whereas I am very extroverted, but with limited discussable topics in my brain file. Where is the justice in that? My husband’s writing skills are pretty nifty too, come to think of it. Maybe we should have a competition. Being competitive, now that I could write about.
Looking back on what I’ve just written, I’ve come to the conclusion that one thousand words is not a long paragraph. As you can see, there are already two paragraphs, and a bit more, here. I think I’ll count the words, just too see where I stand. I seem to averaging about seventeen words per line. That means I need a total of about fifty nine lines! If I leave off the line with only one word in it, that brings me to about seventeen lines at this point. Fifty nine lines definitely make an article. Maybe not such a short one either. A thousand words do begin to seem daunting when you’re talking fifty nine lines.
Then again, even if I could write on any topic, could I make it enjoyable to read? Because in the end, who cares to read even a great topic, if the writing is as dry as dust? I don’t. I would need to be able to enjoy the writing as it went along. But, being an extrovert, I would get even more joy out of knowing that others have read it and gotten, at worst, a chuckle, and at best, an insight into a new point of view that could be life altering.
I might have to do it for the enjoyment of others, because to me, without that aspect, there is little point. I’ve always been the “look at me” type. Maybe that is why I can’t seem to buck up my entrepreneurial spirit. It is too scary to think that others could actually hate what I’ve done. Any of my efforts have always been about the pleasing of others. It has only been in the last decade or so that I have been able to even slightly appreciate anything done solely for my own enjoyment.
Wow, would you look at that? I’ve written a little over half of the assignment already! Admittedly, I’ve not been able to stay exactly on target, but I think that’s ok. Most of it seems to apply, and it is kind of fun to read too. This could really be a great exercise in writing practice, if nothing else. I could use some, heaven knows, if I ever intend to fulfill that life goal I have to write a novel. That is not the total goal, of course, the novel must get published as well, therein illustrating that “look at me” philosophy.
I must say that I do come by this honestly. My dad is just like me and he has taught me well. It’s the whole, “Why do anything unless you intend to get noticed for it?” philosophy on which he has built success in hobbies such as writing, speech making, and acting. Several awards and published works being the proof in his pudding. While I enjoy acting and writing, I cannot add speech making to that list. I still get a knock in my knees and a quiver in my voice whenever speechifying is necessary. Thankfully, it is not often necessary.
I also note that the trait has not ended with me. The need to be the center of attention is apparently passed genetically through the generations. The lucky (?) benefactor of this continuing need in the next generation is my thirteen year old. The younger you are, the stronger the need seems to be. And apparently it doesn’t always come tempered with the need to please others. Maybe that section of the DNA is missing, or maybe I’m just not remembering my own childhood with the most honest of perception.
Well, I feel that I have veered off topic again. It seems I’m blessed with a gift of gab that takes me in some very interesting directions, even when the gab is of the written variety. At least I hope that you have found it interesting. If not, please let me down gently and if I don’t have exactly a thousand words, don’t tell me that either.

God is No Dummy

When God created man, He must have known that we would be so imperfect. After all, He had all kinds of rules for us to follow that are supposed to save us from ourselves. The Old Testament rules about cloven hooves and all being now mostly obsolete, but the Ten Commandments are so basic and right to the point, He had to have known the kinds of things that would drag us down. My biggie is the whole covet issue. Covet is an old word. One that confused me as a youngster. I knew it wasn't cover(Why would you cover your neighbors goods?), but what did covet mean? The nuns quickly disabused me of the notion that it meant steal. Why repeat that again after "Thou shalt not steal"? I couldn't fathom the stealing of a spouse at the age of 6. What even is a spouse anyway? So, the dictionary defines covet this way: cov·et
1. to desire wrongfully, inordinately, or without due regard for the rights of others: to covet another's property.
2. to wish for, esp. eagerly: He won the prize they all coveted.
–verb (used without object)
3. to have an inordinate or wrongful desire.
OK, that explains the meaning, but definition #2 doesn't seem so bad. I did sort of covet a really cool dragonfly kite a guy had at the park today, but not enough to run up and grab it and run. Are there different levels of covet? I don't think God thinks so. Anyway, back to me and covetting(?). Mostly, what I covet is time. What I mean is the time that others get to spend with the people that I love. I think the proprietary feeling I have for my loved ones is usually healthy, but sometimes, I really don't like those folks that actually get to spend life with the people that are close to me and that I feel I should get to spend more time with. The biggest example I can think of here is my sister and her friend Karen. I have only met Karen a few times, and Margie assures me that I would get along with her very well, but I don't know. Every time I hear of another occasion or even just a regular day, that Karen gets to live with Margie, it kind of digs at me a bit. Now, this is dumb. Margie lives 200 miles away. We talk on the phone and e-mail often and see each other as busy life allows, but how much do I expect? Well, that's the thing, see. It isn't about what I expect, it's about what I want. The truth is, I don't get as much time with my sister and her family as I would like, so I begrudge the time Karen gets.
This is covet. There is really nothing that I can do about it. What, I should tell my sister that she can't have any friends 'cause it makes me jealous? Nope. I hope that these feelings don't make her feel bad. I don't want them to. I guess it just shows how much I love her. As long as I don't punch anybody, we'll all get along just fine. Love you Marg. Anne

Man in my Life

I thought it might be fun to reminice about the day that I met Jeff. I was in my freshman year of college, yes, all of 18! I had a friend named Laurie, who was in a few of my classes. Through her, I got to know Jon, who was rather an eccentric. I had never actually seen a man in vans and a bandana at the same time before I met him. He seemed very "Fast Times at Ridgemont High". Some could argue that he was not a man, just a boy...anyway, Laurie and Jon had just started dating and the three of us hung around together quite a bit. (Can you say third wheel?) Jon spoke about his friend Jeff often and I was a little interested, but, I must admit to having a small crush on Jon myself. Bad friend, bad! I never acted on it! So, on this night, I was working at Marshall's and had invited Jon to come over and see me there. It was getting late and I had about given up on him, when here he was, with Jeff in tow. I was a little peeved that he hadn't come by himself, so my first thought of Jeff was, "Who's this funny looking guy?" The guys stood around in the towels and sheets section and chatted with me, well Jon and I chatted, Jeff is the quiet type, until he gets to know you, while I worked at straightening things up. After I was done, we all went to my house so I could change and then we went to Country Kitchen. I had a cinnamon roll, Jeff had iced tea (later I learned that was because he was low on funds and tea is continually refillable). I don't even remember what Jon had. That has to be important. I ended that night thinking that Jeff was not funny looking, in fact, he was pretty cute and I was interested in getting to know him better. That took some time, but that is another story....

What a Good Day

Today was an unusual day. It was fun and maybe it's unusualness (is that a word?)is what made it that way. I went over to the senior center that Mom works at and filled out an "application" to help her in the Meals on Wheels kitchen on Friday mornings. I met Debbie, the lady in charge, who gave me a tour and invited me to all the free coffee I want. Too bad I can't drink coffee anymore. She showed me all around, tipped me onto the good parking spots, and even threw out a tentative offer for a paying sub position in the future. Thanks to Mom for her hard work, as I know this offer had to be on her merit.
After that, I went to see my dad and collect Margie's cat to take to her in Red Wing. I had a nice chat with Dad, who is stuck at home in his pj's due to swelling from abdominal surgery ("none of my pants fit"). Poor Dad. We then stuffed old fat Polly into his carrier and I drove, with him yowling for the first half hour, to meet Marg in Red Wing.
Once there, we transferred the hefty beast out of the carrier and Margie put him on a leash in the Caribou Coffee parking lot for a quick waddle. Then back into the carrier for a nap, I hope, while Margie and I went for lunch.
We went to a place called Lily's that has charm, but the food didn't impress me today. I ate half a cup of soup and a few chips and we had a nice long talk. Loverly.
I came home via Home Goods, which is not nearly as fun to shop in alone as it is with a mom or a sis, so I ended up buying zip.
Hot dogs and corn for dinner. Time with the kids. Even a short talk via cell to Elizabeth, who is on a bus trip to New York! Overall, a very nice unusual day.
Anne

Blue

Here's a poem that sums up the last few weeks:

BLUE

This is one of those days when everything just seems to have an edge of blue around it.
Nothing out of the ordinary has happened, but I can’t shake the slight sadness that is hanging around.
I guess you could put it off to “hormones” or “emotions” or whatever you want to call it, but I don’t really think it has much to do with any of that.
No, it’s just that cloud of free-floating unhappy that strikes all of us sometimes and today is my day.
Boohoo.


I seem to have hit a small plateau, no wieght lost in the last few days.

184

Well, this is what 184 looks like. My pants are a little looser and I had Sylvie pin the back of my blouse with a clothespin to show my shape a little better. My blouses are starting to look silly and huge. I started with some soft food this last weekend and so far, all is going well. I see the doctor today. Anne

Sorry, Folks

I know there are some of you who read this blog faithfully and are wondering why I am not posting with the regularity I was. I guess I haven't felt I have much that is uplifting to say. But, as one friend told me, "Write for yourself and don't care so much about readers." I guess that for myself, I have felt lazy and tired and that is not my best writing atmosphere. I am having some trouble adapting to the new, so called, eating. Actually, all I can do right now is drink. I am so bored with it and occassionally feel very like a manatee. Trying to get in 64 ounces a day into a stomach that can hold only a half ounce at a time is no small feat. My stomach is growling now and I don't know what it means! Used to mean, "Hey, you're hungry!" HOW can a person be full and hungry at the same time? I hate the taste of soy and the feel of mushy in my mouth. Wah, wah, wah....Anne

I Need More than Snow in March

I really don't care much for March in Minnesota, except for the 31st. I know that I live in a cold weather state and that I must expect no literal return of Spring, despite what the calendar says, but by this time of year, I'm ready for 50 degree weather and some buds on the trees. I guess my 11 years in Kansas City have led me to this. March there is Springtime. Here in Minnesota, we really can't expect buds until May and full tree leaf-out until the first part of June. Spring in Minnesota is a misnomer. We usually get a week of it if we're lucky. But, if you like the "In like a lion, out like a lamb" adadge, you really do get it here. A day or two of springlike weather usually pops out at the end of March, only to be snatched back by the hands of winter for a snowfall,or two, in April. Looking outside today, you'd think it was January, cold and snowing. But, like all Minnesotans, I know it doesn't last forever and the "snow gone, birds come back" season will soon be upon us. Please God, I am so ready. Anne

Home Again

Well folks, here's the deal with gastric bypass surgery: they put you on a liquid diet for two weeks, then take away 80% of your stomach capacity by punching little holes through your belly and sewing things into different pathways. Then when you think all is hunky dokey, they send you home to lurch around like an old lady ape. I had very little pain the first day, until I got home and tried to go to bed. I had to spend the night in my recliner, getting up every two hours to pee and every four hours for pain medicine. I felt like Quasimoto on his way to the bell tower. I really have no desire for food at all and am having to force myself to eat. Seems like a drastic way to diet, doesn't it? Oh, and by the way, I weighed 5 pounds more when I got home than when I left the house the day before! Where's the justice in that? I know that I will be feeling better soon and will start to lose weight, so I hope my future posts are sunnier. Love to all of you! Anne

It's all in the back!

As of today, I have lost 10 pounds on this stinking liquid diet. I can't tell a difference in my pants, but I can wear a sweater that was too tight just a few weeks ago. I wore it then and it showed off all my back fat. Now it is smooth back there. Who ever heard of that? I must have a lot of fat in my back! I am now to the point that I am counting down the days. Four more to go! I had my pre-op physical yesterday and came out with a clean bill, so that is the last thing down. The kids go to Mom and Dad's on Monday night and then Tuesday is it. If I live on this stupid liquid until then. Anne

Who Cares?

Wow, on my last entry, all I wanted to do was crunch something and now I don't really even want the food I can have. Maybe this is a side effect of this liquid diet. Last night, I made myself some corn soup that I really liked the first two times I ate it, but last night it made me feel gross just smelling it. I am less than a week away from my surgery now and have lost nine pounds. I'm not really feeling a difference in my clothes though. I am feeling a heightened sense of emotion. I was really irritable yesterday and I saw someone make blood pudding on a weird cooking show and I felt like I wanted to cry and puke at the grossness of it. Today I am depressed. Yuck. I am eating like I need to, so don't anyone worry, I am just not enjoying it at all. I have a feeling that my emotions are going to be strange for a while. Thanks for all the support everybody. Lurve you all. Anne

I Want to Eat!

OK, it has been only 2 1/2 days on this liquid diet, but I want something "crunchy" (said as if by Templeton on the old version of "Charlotte's Web", for those of you who don't know him, think Paul Lind). I have only been hungry a few times, mainly in the middle of the night, but right now, I could eat a whole bag of kettle cooked potato chips! As Steven used to say, "I need something to put my teeth on!" How will I last another 12 days?? One at a time, I guess. Anne

I am the Decider

Jeff hates me sometimes. I have the ability to make decisions very quickly and I very rarely regret them. When we have a decision to make that involves both of us, he likes to mull things over, thinking on the pros and cons, sometimes for days, and then he usually comes to the same decision that I made in 30 seconds. He wonders how I do it. Sometimes his decisions seem spur of the moment, but those are usually prefaced with, "I've been thinking about this for quite awhile". This has almost become a joke in our family lexicon because I hear him say it pretty often. These decisions usually involve electronics and large amounts of money. Come to think of it, purchasing decisions can be the ones that I will stall on, because I'm a cheapskate. Jeff does his level best to make sure he gets the best deals when we want large ticket item, but when you're talking about hundreds of dollars, a good deal on a LCD TV doesn't strike a chord in my cheapie heart like getting something for $6.00 that should have cost $70. Now, that's a bargain! Anne

Red

Sylvie has asked me several times in her life, “What’s your favorite color?” and in recent years has answered her own question with, “Red, right?” and I can tell her with all honesty that, “Yes, red is my favorite color.” When she asks why, I always say, “It’s always been my favorite", but I have put my finger on the why. It’s not so hard.
What is red that makes it my favorite? Well, let’s see, red is: clown shoes and noses, my favorite childhood swimming suit, the sun on a summer night that looks like it takes up half the sky, the moon on a stormy morning that foretells trouble and lights the clouds. Red is baby cheeks and glamorous lipstick and painted fingernails. It’s valentines and poppies and the color of love. Its sweet summer cherries and crisp fall apples and that weird cake called velvet. Red is a shirt I got for Christmas with my first real pair of jeans when I was six. It’s the color of hair I always wish I had. It’s that rind around real bologna that you have to peel off before you eat it. Gouda cheese has a red rind too. I like that. It’s the color of the sand on one of the beaches in the town where I grew up and of the roads on Prince Edward Island where we took a great vacation. It’s the color of my first bike. My Grandpa rebuilt it and my Dad taught me to ride it when there was still snow on the ground.
I don’t know if the color of so many of my favorite things makes them special, or if they have made red special. It really doesn’t matter. Red to me is so many things that I love. It will always be my favorite. I will enjoy finding many more things in my life that are rosy, ruddy, ruby, and beautiful. I love it and thank God for it. Red, to me, is happiness. Anne

Tastes Like Onions

I had lunch today from one of my favorite local places. It's called the Taste of Scandinavia. (Click on the post title to see their website.) When we first moved to Vadnais Heights, and for a long time after, it was just a tiny little pastry shop. I used to bring Sylvie there quite often for a cookie or a fancy pastry on the way to the park. We would take our treats in their little white bags and sit on a bench or in the grass and eat them and feel we were doing something very Euro-chic. Sylvie usually had water in a sippie cup with hers and I probably had a bottle of Willard's water. (That's what we call the flavored fizzie water from Walmart, courtesy of my mom.) I guess the sippie cup and the water from Walmart probably ruined our ability to look Euro-chic to others, but we were good with it. Anyway, the place is now a full fledged cafe' with hot food, specialty breads, fancy coffee, and yes, they still have the pastry. Today I had their swedish meatballs. They are probably much more authentic than mine and very tasty. They come with mashed potatoes (real ones) and lingonberries. The berries are whole, not sauce, but I find them to be too sour. I prefer good old Ocean Spray Cranberry sauce myself. Again, smashing Euro with the good old Midwest. I enjoyed my lunch heartily, but now my mouth tastes like onions. I love onions, but I guess I would prefer that they didn't linger around inside my mouth. Now I have to go brush my teeth. Anne

The Roller Coaster

I've had an interesting week. On Tuesday, I saw the surgeon and got my surgery date set. On Wednesday, I went to my nutrition and pharmacy class and then had three pre-op tests; a chest x-ray, an abdominal ultrasound (to determine if my gallbladder gets to stay in it's present location or must be removed), and an EKG. On Thursday morning, my doctor called me and said, "There's something irregular on your chest x-ray. I want you to have a CT." I lay in my bed talking to her and trying not to panic. Jeff was there and I didn't want to, as we often say, "borrow trouble", so I tried to be calm and very casual about it. Inside myself, I was screaming, "What!!! I can't have cancer! I'm fine! I don't even smoke. How unfair is this!" On Thursday afternoon, I went back down to St. Joseph's Hospital for the third day in a row, picked up the reports form the bariatric clinic and promptly went to the medical library. My chest x-ray said, "There is a small spiculated mass in the left upper lobe and some hilar density." Spicular masses are bad. Again, I sat and tried to remain calm. Everything in me told me this was not right. I had the CT and then had to wait. Thursday night, I went to work and tried not to think about it too much. Friday morning, I heard from a nurse in my primary clinic with the report. The report said, "There is a 7mm calcified granuloma in the left upper lobe and some calcification of the hilar lymph nodes." I did some research. WHEW!! Calcified granulomas are benign. They are caused by scar tissue from a former infection that collects calcium. They take a long time to build up. On Monday, I got a call from my doctor confirming what I had learned and everything is still a go, but wow, did that ever throw a big "what if" into those few days. My gut feeling was correct. Thank You God, this could have been a devastating finding. All is well, but it did get me thinking about all the things that can happen in a life and how lucky I am and have been. All the twists and turns make for a great ride. I continue to look ahead and pray for good things. Anne

Before

This is my official before picture. I say official because I like it alright. This is actually a rare occurence these days. Most of the time, I want to throw out pictures of myself. Jeff took it with our Fuji digital camera that we bought back in 2001. In terms of digital photography, it is a bit of a dinosaur. It is huge and eats batteries at an amazing rate, but it still works, so we'll hang on to it. I won't say how much I weigh, suffice to say, too much! I want to print out one of these and write on it with a grease pencil like they do on that glycemic index diet commercial. The one where the person crosses out any part of their body that they want to trim and then in the after picture, their body is just that shape! How do they do that? I'd like to not be a rectangle on top and a triangle on the bottom. Note the cute new hairdo though. It is stacked in the back and I really like it, so I think it will stay for the duration. I need something to remain static. So, "Hi everyone!" Anne

New Beginning

As many of you know, I have had problems with my right knee and with obesity for most of my life. After many years of knee pain, weight loss attempts (and weight gains) and then almost ten years of saying "forget this!" to dieting, I have made a big decision (no pun intended). I have been working hard for the last six months to fulfill the requirements of my bariatric clinic and my insurance company and yesterday the date was set for surgery. I am having gastric bypass surgery on the 18th of March. While I am excited and no stranger to this surgery (my dad had it in 2003), I am still feeling some trepidation with the decision. It is a big surgery and any surgery carries risk. I feel that I have done my research and the program I am in is a really good one. The support and knowledge they have given me has been phenomenal. I will probably be using this blog for a journal of my experiences with the surgery and the new life I will have afterward. I still intend to write on other topics. My weight has never, nor (I hope) will ever be, the only thing in my life worth keeping up with and communicationg about. That would be a bore, wouldn't it? I will be posting a before picture before too long. Say goodbye to "puffy" Anne. Love to you all. Anne

"Annie" at an End

Sylvie is in the throes of what I call "post play letdown". Her school musical is over. Anyone who has done something that requires weeks of work and fun and learning probably knows what this feels like. You wonder what you are going to do with all of your time now that you don't have this actvity to fill it. You wonder if you will continue to be friends with all of the new people you met and got close to. You can't wait for the next time you get to do it again. She came home from the cast and crew party last night, promptly put on her "Annie" soundtrack, and wept for about 15 minutes. Luckily she had some great plans for today to help take her mind off of it. A movie and dinner with some of her new friends. I hope she has a great time. Anne

A Taste of the Future

Sylvie is getting ready to perform in "Annie" at her school this week. She is one of the orphans. We were trying out make-up today and as you can see from the picture, this might be a little to glam for an orphan. We got it on her and I thought, "Wow, she looks like she's about 17!" Scary. I guess every parent reaches a moment like this with their newly minted teenage daughters, when they are standing on the brink of young womanhood and you look at them and feel all the potential that is contained within. The secret is to look at them and try not to feel too old. Anne

Pie Ladies

Sylvie and I are trying something new. Now as anyone who knows me can tell you, I hate to exercise. Why is this, you may ask? Two things: I hate to sweat and I hate to be in pain. Exercise means both, but being a rational person, I know that sometimes you have to do things you hate, if they are good for you. Things like: eat spinach, pick up stuff that is laying around your house, go out in terrible weather just because you have to be at work, and *sigh* exercise. So we started Pilates (christened Pie Ladies, by Sessa, I think) together at the Community Center at the beginning of January. So far, I don't totally hate it! It does make me sweat some, it's more embarrassing than hate-worthy, and it does make me hurt, but not until the next day. At least the hurt has not been centering itself in one area of my body. Pilates can be tricky that way. The pain moves around, so it's easier to forget from week to week. Today, my legs hurt. They hurt so much, I could hardly sleep! Now that is a hurt I cannot ignore, because not sleeping makes me hurt more and ticks me off. If the pain goes away by tomorrow, I'll go back, because it has to be good for me, right? But I've been going for four weeks now, and I still haven't seen any pie! Anne

Stress Dream

Last night I had my stress dream again. I don't know what I'm stressing out about, but whenever I have this dream, I know there's something. I always dream that my teeth are turning mushy or falling out. From what I've read, this seems to be pretty common. http://www.dreamreplay.com/teeth_dreams.htm I didn't know that until I was talking about it with someone at work once and she said, "I have that too!" I thought that was weird. I guess we all tend to think at least our dreams ought to be unique. The one I had last night was particularly graphic and scary. I dreamt that my teeth were just kind of loosening themselves from my gums slowly and one at a time. I would reach into my mouth and push one tooth in, hoping the roots would reattach, just to find out that there were others coming loose too! After awhile, I really couldn't keep up anymore and a few actually left my mouth. I picked them up and tried to shove them back in to my gums in the right spots. It was pretty nasty, because, of course they wouldn't stay. I sort of half woke up and really thought that my teeth were bad! I think I really felt in my mouth just to be sure! Boy, was I glad when they were all still there. Gross. Anne

Blog Envy

Ok, I know I'm new to this whole "blog" thing (please picture in your mind, someone smarmy doing that exagerated quotation mark charade manuever with extra curly fingers. It should be evident that they actually hate the manuever and are making fun of it), but as much as I love reading other people's blog's, I am jealous of all of their blog bling (Hey! Did I just coin a new phrase!?) Little things like links within the blog entry, lots of pictures, cartoons, fancy graphics, little movies, and really fantastic writing that seems like they were just talking (albeit, very cleverly) and someone else wrote it down for them. I love people who write like that, but boy does that stuff make me green! I think that through my blog effort, my writing is getting better, but I find myself going back a lot and changing things as I write them. We can't really do that when we talk without sounding like my college biology professor. We got so distracted by the number of times he said "um" in class that we counted them and missed what he was saying in between. No problem explaining my B- in freshman biology. My brother-in-law, Tom, is one of these people that have lots of bling in his blog. As an example, I would have loved to have Tom's name be able to link you to his site right there in the body of that sentence, but I don't have a clue as to how to do it. He is my go to guy for the neat stuff I already have (see neat cartoon with link on sidebar), but the best I can do is refer you to his blog website address also on the sidebar(not far from the cute cartoon). I guess I'll have to call him and spend some time with him on the phone again, or maybe he gives lessons? I can see the ad now..."Is your blog boring? Is your writing bad? Call me, Tom Smart, for lessons in up to the minute, cutting edge bling on your blog!" I think there could be a market for that. Anne

Back in the Saddle

I went back to work last night...*sigh*, I had to float. The girls on ICU tell me it's been feast or famine around there and they have been floating more. Since I was off for three months, it does make sense that it was my turn, but what a bummer. I was looking forward to being with my own "happy to see me" people! Now, admittedly, the shift was not too bad, but, talk about sink or swim! Used to staffing calling and asking if it's OK if they float me,...no call, find out when you get there. Used to familiar faces,...get over on tele where you only recognise three people! Used to two patients and mostly paper charting?...let's throw you out and give you 5 patient's and charting all on the computer! Used to a little down time in the middle of the night?..."MOVE, MOVE, MOVE", barely enough time for a break! Used to getting up after four hours feeling mostly refreshed?...get out of bed like an Uruk Hai breaking out of it's muddy birthing shell! Man, that was tough. My next shift is a four hour evening...more on that later! Anne

Quantum Physics Notes and the Meaning of Life

Last month, my sister and I went shopping together, just the two of us. This is rare. She has two daughters in their teens and I have a 12 year old daughter and an 8 year old son. We live 150 miles apart. Our lives are so busy, we rarely see each other, much less find time to get away alone, so this was a treat. We went to one of our favorite spots, a second hand store called Savers here in the Twin Cities. Both of us love bargain hunting and this place almost always holds a treasure or two. As we were cruising the aisles, we came across a bunch of binders. All of them were devoid of words except one, a blue one, with a title written on its spine that gave us a chuckle. It said, “Quantum Physics Notes.” We stood there in the aisle like a couple of goons, pointing and laughing. An ordinary looking binder containing notes on quantum physics seemed to strike our funny bones with an odd resonance. That simple blue binder couldn’t possible contain something so lofty, could it?
After our laugh, we moved on down the aisle and I forgot all about it, until today. Just going about my daily chores, that binder came back to mind. I thought to myself, “Why didn’t we pick that up and open it?” It would have been so easy. Who knows, that binder may have still had the notes in it? The secrets of life, or at least time travel, may have been revealed in that unassuming binder. We could be traveling all over the fourth dimension today!
The fact that we didn’t pick it up says a lot about people. Many times we look at the surface of something, get a laugh, a smile, even a tear out of it, but we don’t dig any further. We move on in our lives and forget all about it. It’s easy to understand why we might do this with a binder on a shelf full of binders, in a second hand store, but why is it so easy to do with the big things too: people, tidal waves, hurricanes and bridge collapses for instance. Do we move on because we have to, for our own mental health, or because we have very small time windows in our busy lives in which to remember? Is this self preservation or just a form of selfish isolation? How many of us can remember the date of Katrina? I do not mean to demean the contributions of the thousands of people who gave of their time and money to help in any of the disasters I mentioned, but how many of us have since moved on, giving little to no thought to these and many other events, people and places that shape our lives. Just a thought, next time you see something that is just slightly odd, funny, sad, or uneven, experience it. Then share it, because I believe that it is the sharing that keeps us remembering. Anne

Free Books

I watched one of my favorite movies tonight...again, "You've Got Mail" with Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan. It's at least the third remake of a movie done back in the 40's called "The Shop around the Corner". I have all three of them and I love them all. The latest one is about a small bookstore owner and her fight against a large chainstore and it's owner. The trouble is, she is in love with him. She falls in love with him before ever seeing his face, through the wonder of email. I love books and I love reading. I love it so much that I have my 10 digit library card number memorized. How many people can say that? I love to go to bookstores and look at books, then put them on hold at the library. Because, aside from reading, I love free. I think the US free library system is one of the greatest inventions ever. Thank you Andrew Carnegie. I also really like to support local businesses, even if they are slightly more expensive than the big guys. I have really come to appreciate customer service in my middle age. Don't get me wrong though, a really big book store with a cafe' in it is thrilling too. I think that as long as libraries and book stores are busy in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon, there is still hope for our society. Anne

I Love the Internet!

I am having so much fun with this blog! The frustrated secretary in me loves moving things about and finding new ideas to put in it. I haven't utilized 1/20th of the things I could, but that's ok, room to grow is exciting. I love the internet. I have a few friends who haven't succumbed to it yet and all I can say is, "You don't know what you're missing!" I know there is a lot of crappy stuff out there and the internet makes it easier to get to, but if you're the type who generally avoids the crappy stuff, you can do it here too. There is just so much available that is fun, enlightening, and enriching. I'm so glad that my husband works with and is so into computers. My life is being improved because of it. Of course, not everyone is lucky enough to have their own, personal, in-home IT guy. That must make accessibility more difficult. My father-in-law has proven that no one is too old to learn; he just started internet banking! I hope you like it Dad. Just like anything new, there is a learning curve, but it sure is fun when you crest the peak and can start the "WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" of the downhill side. Anne

Back to Work

Well, I saw the orthopod today and he has given me the go ahead to go back to work on the 30th. I must admit, this news is met with a certain amount of ambivalence. While I have really enjoyed my time off and never having to worry about not getting to sleep every night, I have also missed the challenge of my job and the satisfaction I get from it. I do not, however, miss the rude people I occasionly have to rub elbows with. I mean coworkers and clients alike. Most people, I think, are basically good, but there are your given number of cranks in any area of life. I hope to approach the next few months with a sense of joy and a helpful attitude, as a three month break should tend to give me, but 20 years of career experience tells me that bad always comes with good. I'm sure this is not limited to only those in health care. A lot depends on my own attitude, so I'm praying for a lightness of feeling. If you have any extra prayers, say one for me. Anne

The House I Grew Up In

This is the house I grew up in. When I lived there, it was a dark chocolate brown color and I don't know if it had the eagle on it. It was a great place to live. It has an acre of land and lots of trees. I have been back in town a couple times since we left in the early 80's and the house has been this blue color for most of that time. For a while, there was a large fake orange butterfly on it between the two upstairs windows. I guess the eagle is an improvement. The people who live there now have had it the longest, having purchased it in 1986. It looks like they take good care of it and that makes me feel happy. It's nice to know that the place that made me so happy is happy too. Anne

What Can I Give My Children

Sometimes I see my children, and I feel a little sad,
to know the things so dear to me that they may never have:
To lay out in their own backyard and gaze up at the stars,
to see the yellow Venus, or the bright red-orange of Mars.
To wade for blocks in a crystal crick or reap lilacs that are free to pick,
in fields that lay unclaimed.
To recognize the folks in town, black or white, red or brown,
and often know their names.
To cherish movie theaters on a summer afternoon, the coolness there was rare,
to travel miles on your bike, or train most anywhere.
Games and shows that you invent,
then play out with your friends.
The hot sunshine of late July,
you thought would never end.
To feel the joy of doing nothing, your time not crammed with strife,
to simply learn to be, to know, to live your life.
To walk in woods, trespassers not, to see with more than eyes,
to spend an August evening catching flashing fireflies.
If I could give them some of this, then happy I would be,
for then I know my children could know more than "Mom",
and maybe understand...me.

I chose this for my first post because it sums up my childhood and the fear that seems pervasive in our society. The fear that keeps our kids from some of the experiences we had. I wrote this last year for the local library's poetry slam.