We have 27 Live Auction items, 95 Silent Auction items, a Raffle, and a "pull" where for $20 you can pick a felted heart from an olive tree: each felted heart contains an "item" worth at least $20. The alluring descriptions of most of these items (everything from hand-knit scarves to 7-day trips to Kauai) were mostly written by others. My job is the punch it up where necessary, check for grammatical errors, etc., and lay it all out to be printed.
The theme for the school's auction is "An Evening in Tuscany," inspired by the committee chair's recent visit there, not inspired (in spite of rumors to the contrary) by the Presbyterian Preschool's annual auction, "A Taste of Tuscany."
Yes, I was going to write the pet cemetery story tonight in my blog. But now my goal is to finish the 38+ page Auction catalog for final proofing and printing tomorrow instead.
A little more coffee, and I just might make it another 1.5 hours! :)
Monday, January 31, 2005
Sunday, January 30, 2005
DSL enabled - beep-beep-zip-dang!
"Beep-beep-zip-dang!" is what the little boy in the Roadrunner cartoon says when he's saying he wants to grow up and be a roadrunner. If I remember correctly, his brother says he's going to grow up and be a "puh-sigh-ky-a-trist," and that his roadrunner wanna-be brother should see a "puh-sigh-ky-a-trist." Do you remember that one, too?
In any event, it's sure nice to see a screen load so quickly, especially when one is working on putting together a program for an auction & needs quick reference to things online from home.
My morning run went well enough (I made it home again), and Writer's Group was lovely as usual. I've been working on the Auction book off and on (mostly on) all day. S went to the beach with a friend this morning, and then I brought both girls back here for a playdate. I also brought R's friend Siobhan here for the afternoon.
The high point (or low point) of the day was the burial of the bird. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking this bird died how long ago? And it's taken us this long to take care of the funeral? But it's not as bad as you think. D dug a deep hole with the post-hole digger so the chances of accidentally finding him again (as a surprise) are slim to none. I'll skip the details, but basically, R's friend Siobhan put him in the hole, and R covered him in adobe, and that was that.
When I'd asked R if she was ready for the service, she'd said, "Yeah. I want to get this over with." But then she also said she was going to visit his grave every day. Siobhan said she'd made the same kind of pledge after her dog died, but then she was too busy and never followed through.
Life goes on.
Very soon, I will post the funny story about burying pets in the back yard. I know. You can't wait.
You're spared it tonight (and probably tomorrow night too) because the Auction program demands my attention. Besides, it's almost 10:30 now, and I do actually have to get up at 5 and go to work tomorrow.
In any event, it's sure nice to see a screen load so quickly, especially when one is working on putting together a program for an auction & needs quick reference to things online from home.
My morning run went well enough (I made it home again), and Writer's Group was lovely as usual. I've been working on the Auction book off and on (mostly on) all day. S went to the beach with a friend this morning, and then I brought both girls back here for a playdate. I also brought R's friend Siobhan here for the afternoon.
The high point (or low point) of the day was the burial of the bird. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking this bird died how long ago? And it's taken us this long to take care of the funeral? But it's not as bad as you think. D dug a deep hole with the post-hole digger so the chances of accidentally finding him again (as a surprise) are slim to none. I'll skip the details, but basically, R's friend Siobhan put him in the hole, and R covered him in adobe, and that was that.
When I'd asked R if she was ready for the service, she'd said, "Yeah. I want to get this over with." But then she also said she was going to visit his grave every day. Siobhan said she'd made the same kind of pledge after her dog died, but then she was too busy and never followed through.
Life goes on.
Very soon, I will post the funny story about burying pets in the back yard. I know. You can't wait.
You're spared it tonight (and probably tomorrow night too) because the Auction program demands my attention. Besides, it's almost 10:30 now, and I do actually have to get up at 5 and go to work tomorrow.
Saturday, January 29, 2005
A visit from Bulgaria
D's father's sister is here from Bulgaria. For 3 months.
We were all a little surprised to learn that she was going to be here that long, but it can't be all that easy to leave Bulgaria and come here to begin with, so it makes sense that she'd want to make it last. Her English has gotten better, so I think she won't be entirely adrift or bored for the three months like she was the last time she stayed long-term with D's dad.
We visited them today, after the running and ballet and horseback riding lesson.
We were very late getting there. I know her English has improved, because she said, "Hello. You are late," when we arrived.
We had wine (I had 3 glasses, which helped everything) a meal of chicken, mashed potatoes with pickles cut up in them, and a pork-and-rice-in-cabbage-leaf dish which the girls understandably didn't want to try. D's aunt is really very sweet and patient. She presented me with the third sweater she's knitted for me (a tad small, like the others have been), and she sat and smiled at us a lot while the girls & D wrestled on the couch and I took turns asking R & S to behave and asking D to stop instigating their antics.
We stupidly had not brought the kids anything to do, and they were bored and kept coming up and whispering in my ear that they wanted to go home. It only now occurs to me that TV might have been an option for any other family, but I hadn't even considered it. Hmm.
We all fell asleep on the way home. Uh, except the driver, of course.
Now D is tanked up on the coffee he had at his dad's. It was no more than 6 ounces, but he only drinks it about once a year, and I'll have to peel him off the ceiling when he finishes watching Les Anges de L'Apocalypse, the latest Jean Reno film I've bought from amazon.fr.
Tomorrow, I hope to do another long run and then work for probably 8 hours, somehow, on the Auction catalog for the kid's school. The auction's in a week. The half marathon is in 8 days. When it's all over, we're going to have a week or two of normalcy, and then we're going to Disneyland.
We were all a little surprised to learn that she was going to be here that long, but it can't be all that easy to leave Bulgaria and come here to begin with, so it makes sense that she'd want to make it last. Her English has gotten better, so I think she won't be entirely adrift or bored for the three months like she was the last time she stayed long-term with D's dad.
We visited them today, after the running and ballet and horseback riding lesson.
We were very late getting there. I know her English has improved, because she said, "Hello. You are late," when we arrived.
We had wine (I had 3 glasses, which helped everything) a meal of chicken, mashed potatoes with pickles cut up in them, and a pork-and-rice-in-cabbage-leaf dish which the girls understandably didn't want to try. D's aunt is really very sweet and patient. She presented me with the third sweater she's knitted for me (a tad small, like the others have been), and she sat and smiled at us a lot while the girls & D wrestled on the couch and I took turns asking R & S to behave and asking D to stop instigating their antics.
We stupidly had not brought the kids anything to do, and they were bored and kept coming up and whispering in my ear that they wanted to go home. It only now occurs to me that TV might have been an option for any other family, but I hadn't even considered it. Hmm.
We all fell asleep on the way home. Uh, except the driver, of course.
Now D is tanked up on the coffee he had at his dad's. It was no more than 6 ounces, but he only drinks it about once a year, and I'll have to peel him off the ceiling when he finishes watching Les Anges de L'Apocalypse, the latest Jean Reno film I've bought from amazon.fr.
Tomorrow, I hope to do another long run and then work for probably 8 hours, somehow, on the Auction catalog for the kid's school. The auction's in a week. The half marathon is in 8 days. When it's all over, we're going to have a week or two of normalcy, and then we're going to Disneyland.
Friday, January 28, 2005
Change is constant
It's a time a change around here. We're going to switch to DSL in the next 24 hours, I'll be getting a new car within a week or so, and to push the excitement level right over the edge, I got my hair cut pretty short tonight. Hang on to your seats, folks!
It's Friday. Tomorrow will be a full, full day, and a great test for taking things as they come and being present for it all.
We're backing up the data on our mac & pc now in preparation for the switch to DSL. Yes, changing from dial up should have no affect on our Word docs or jpgs, but where I work, everything from to cat hair and best intentions can lead directly to a hard drive crash and *poof* bye-bye files.
See you all more quickly next time!
It's Friday. Tomorrow will be a full, full day, and a great test for taking things as they come and being present for it all.
We're backing up the data on our mac & pc now in preparation for the switch to DSL. Yes, changing from dial up should have no affect on our Word docs or jpgs, but where I work, everything from to cat hair and best intentions can lead directly to a hard drive crash and *poof* bye-bye files.
See you all more quickly next time!
Thursday, January 27, 2005
Must blog before power goes out
It's raining and there's even been some lightning, and I'm just tired enough to be paranoid, concerned that the power might go out before I can blog.
Not that there was anything terribly exciting to blog about from today.
Work (plenty of stuff getting stirred up as the "department" I'm in grows)
After school misc until R had gymnastics.
At gymnastics, I worked on editing my father-in-law's translation of his friend's Romanian memoir. I'll be seeing D's dad (and his sister, in town for 3 months from Bulgaria) on Saturday, so I need to have more translation done. It never rains.
Uh. Well, except now. Right.
(As I write this, more thunder.)
After gymnastics, we had a pleasant family evening. I worked on the school auction while the girls & D had dinner, then there was much general giggling and teasing before story and bed. For them. Nice to have stayed awake past the kids, to get a second wind. I feel optimistic. Maybe it's the low-carb toast and cream cheese I just had giving my blood sugar a kick up. Time to read my friends' blogs too, before 4:45 am gets any closer.
Not that there was anything terribly exciting to blog about from today.
Work (plenty of stuff getting stirred up as the "department" I'm in grows)
After school misc until R had gymnastics.
At gymnastics, I worked on editing my father-in-law's translation of his friend's Romanian memoir. I'll be seeing D's dad (and his sister, in town for 3 months from Bulgaria) on Saturday, so I need to have more translation done. It never rains.
Uh. Well, except now. Right.
(As I write this, more thunder.)
After gymnastics, we had a pleasant family evening. I worked on the school auction while the girls & D had dinner, then there was much general giggling and teasing before story and bed. For them. Nice to have stayed awake past the kids, to get a second wind. I feel optimistic. Maybe it's the low-carb toast and cream cheese I just had giving my blood sugar a kick up. Time to read my friends' blogs too, before 4:45 am gets any closer.
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Asleep
I've roused myself from the big bed (having fallen asleep there with the girls after storytime) just to write this, but I am so asleep, and will go right back to bed now, while the cough is at bay. I stayed up a bit too late last night, and as a result, coughed until 2:30 am, even after taking syrup & the inhaler thingy and cough drops.
And just now fell asleep typing even this! :) So ttfn.
And just now fell asleep typing even this! :) So ttfn.
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Sometimes you have to take a day
So I took the day off work. And it was good.
I slept little last night, and woke up feeling worse, again. So I called in sick - something I do about two or three times a year, at most. Usually, I drag myself in late or go in at my usual 6am and leave early. But today I just gave myself permission to take the whole day. I rested, and drank tea with honey, and used the inhaler once. I'll use it and more cough syrup again before bed, in just a few minutes.
There is something so fantastic about being home alone in my house. It's really, really good for me. I love my family, but I so need time alone in my home. I read more of Tolle's book, too. I'm almost finished with reading it but am already applying it more and more every day. It's very liberating.
Also, after a day of down time, I feel ready to face the challenges of the next few days - the usual work schedule, the last bit of pre-race training, and creating the auction catalog & descriptive cards for the silent auction before Tuesday.
Apologies to my fellow bloggers for my lack of comments on your blogs ; your entries have been fantastic! but my participation in everything was on hold for a little more than a day. Until tomorrow...
I slept little last night, and woke up feeling worse, again. So I called in sick - something I do about two or three times a year, at most. Usually, I drag myself in late or go in at my usual 6am and leave early. But today I just gave myself permission to take the whole day. I rested, and drank tea with honey, and used the inhaler once. I'll use it and more cough syrup again before bed, in just a few minutes.
There is something so fantastic about being home alone in my house. It's really, really good for me. I love my family, but I so need time alone in my home. I read more of Tolle's book, too. I'm almost finished with reading it but am already applying it more and more every day. It's very liberating.
Also, after a day of down time, I feel ready to face the challenges of the next few days - the usual work schedule, the last bit of pre-race training, and creating the auction catalog & descriptive cards for the silent auction before Tuesday.
Apologies to my fellow bloggers for my lack of comments on your blogs ; your entries have been fantastic! but my participation in everything was on hold for a little more than a day. Until tomorrow...
Monday, January 24, 2005
There's nothing wrong with me
It's been a good day. A humbling day, but a good day. Because look! I'm still around to write about it!
There's nothing like setting up a same-day doctor appointment and then getting there 20 minutes late. (What is wrong with me that I can never seem to unchain myself from the office in time?) Especially when the well-meaning HMO folks tell you when you get to the desk that you're 20 minutes late (as though you hadn't been counting the seconds all the way there) and that the doctor is only willing to see you after all because she's a saint.
It's also refreshing to learn that it only takes 10 minutes and a $30 copay to learn that there's basically nothing wrong with me.
I think I am a hypochondriac. I'm just a really bad hypochondriac. Here I'd gone to all sorts of trouble to make sure I didn't really have bronchitis or pneumonia or some strange everlasting hack-like-a-seal disease, and then I just plain blew it while the Dr. was talking to me.
Note to self: do not tell the physician examining you that although you have this cough that's really bothersome and may be fatal, you are also in training for a half-marathon, and actually, running really seems to clear up your lungs nicely.
The doctor gave me me a prescription for an inhaler that is apparently the best way to beat a hangs-on-forever post cold cough. And then she reminded me that in 9/03, I had the same type of thing and was given same prescription (I think I used the inhaler twice).
I'm pretty sure an internal memo has gone around the GP's at Kaiser with my medical record number on it. Or perhaps they've just flagged the computer records so that when I call, the advice nurse gets a message on the screen that says something like: "Worries too much about minor symptoms. Will want a same day appointment. Will be very late. Humor her, prescribe something, and move on to truly ill patients."
Later in the day, I got a parking ticket because I was 10 minutes late getting back to the parking meter. It seems I didn't learn my lesson about time well enough earlier. :)
On a brighter note, S lost her first tooth today! She was at the after school care facility, asking one of the nice staff members there to pull out her tooth. "Why don't you just pull it out yourself?" Theresa said. I think she was joking, but S just said, "Okay." And she just reached in and yanked it out. And then she spent the rest of the day saying, "I just yanked it out! I can't believe I just yanked it out!"
So it looks like the tooth fairy will be coming to our house tonight, leaving the obligatory money and answer to a letter, since R has had a lively correspondence going on for a while with the fairy, and now S finally gets a turn. (Have I blogged about this before? I think so, but am too sleepy to look it up!). I tell ya. I don't know how that tooth fairy does what s/he does.
The latest letter goes like this (she dictated it to her sister):
"Dear Princess Sleeping B,
Are you a girl or a boy? Have you met the Queen?
S.
P.S. May R have fary Dust?
By Sister R"
What's with the gender question? And who's the Queen? And what will the fairy say, I wonder?
There's nothing like setting up a same-day doctor appointment and then getting there 20 minutes late. (What is wrong with me that I can never seem to unchain myself from the office in time?) Especially when the well-meaning HMO folks tell you when you get to the desk that you're 20 minutes late (as though you hadn't been counting the seconds all the way there) and that the doctor is only willing to see you after all because she's a saint.
It's also refreshing to learn that it only takes 10 minutes and a $30 copay to learn that there's basically nothing wrong with me.
I think I am a hypochondriac. I'm just a really bad hypochondriac. Here I'd gone to all sorts of trouble to make sure I didn't really have bronchitis or pneumonia or some strange everlasting hack-like-a-seal disease, and then I just plain blew it while the Dr. was talking to me.
Note to self: do not tell the physician examining you that although you have this cough that's really bothersome and may be fatal, you are also in training for a half-marathon, and actually, running really seems to clear up your lungs nicely.
The doctor gave me me a prescription for an inhaler that is apparently the best way to beat a hangs-on-forever post cold cough. And then she reminded me that in 9/03, I had the same type of thing and was given same prescription (I think I used the inhaler twice).
I'm pretty sure an internal memo has gone around the GP's at Kaiser with my medical record number on it. Or perhaps they've just flagged the computer records so that when I call, the advice nurse gets a message on the screen that says something like: "Worries too much about minor symptoms. Will want a same day appointment. Will be very late. Humor her, prescribe something, and move on to truly ill patients."
Later in the day, I got a parking ticket because I was 10 minutes late getting back to the parking meter. It seems I didn't learn my lesson about time well enough earlier. :)
On a brighter note, S lost her first tooth today! She was at the after school care facility, asking one of the nice staff members there to pull out her tooth. "Why don't you just pull it out yourself?" Theresa said. I think she was joking, but S just said, "Okay." And she just reached in and yanked it out. And then she spent the rest of the day saying, "I just yanked it out! I can't believe I just yanked it out!"
So it looks like the tooth fairy will be coming to our house tonight, leaving the obligatory money and answer to a letter, since R has had a lively correspondence going on for a while with the fairy, and now S finally gets a turn. (Have I blogged about this before? I think so, but am too sleepy to look it up!). I tell ya. I don't know how that tooth fairy does what s/he does.
The latest letter goes like this (she dictated it to her sister):
"Dear Princess Sleeping B,
Are you a girl or a boy? Have you met the Queen?
S.
P.S. May R have fary Dust?
By Sister R"
What's with the gender question? And who's the Queen? And what will the fairy say, I wonder?
Sunday, January 23, 2005
Sun- *cough*cough* -day
I worked today – the first Sunday in probably a year that I’ve worked, but they need the extra staff now that the phone lines are busier, and the compensation is attractive. However, my cough was worse this morning while I was trying to talk to customers, and I wasn’t sure I was going to make it through the day. I would love to take a day off of work and sleep and drink tons of water and cough syrup and be done with this. Maybe Tuesday. But I also expect to need time off when my new car arrives in the next 2 weeks, and to work on the school’s auction catalog for the 5th. The next 14 days will be nothing but loaded. I’ll need to take the best care of myself I can, considering. At least D & the girls seem to be well and happy. S is about to lose her first tooth, which is itself an all-consuming event, especially if you’re five. Do you remember losing your first tooth? Where were you? Did you really lose it lose it, or have it to give to the tooth fairy? How much money did you get for it?
This survey brought to you by The Now-What-Shall-We-Post Committee. And the year is so young, too!
This survey brought to you by The Now-What-Shall-We-Post Committee. And the year is so young, too!
Saturday, January 22, 2005
Sometimes Saturday night feels like Sunday night
It’s after 10:30 and the girls are only now going to bed. The local gymnastics club for kids hosts a “Parents’ Night Out” once or twice a month, and this time we took advantage of it so we could go out to sushi with an old co-worker of D’s and his new bride. It was a nice dinner. They’re interesting and fun people, and even though it’s hard for me to force myself to be social, I know that it’s good for me to make the effort once in a while.
But boy, am I sleepy and ready for bed! I started the day before 7am with a long job (10 miles again, finally!), followed by getting S to dance class & R to riding lesson (accompanied by D’s sister, who is herself a rider). We had a relaxing afternoon, just hanging out, and then Aunt H left and R decided she wanted to re-arrange her room, which took the rest of the afternoon. D & S napped. I wish I had!
Tomorrow, even though it’s Sunday, I’m working 7am-3pm. Not really looking forward to it, but the pay is good. The cough I have is persistent. Running doesn’t seem to make it any worse – in fact, it may help it – but I know I need more sleep. Bonne nuit.
But boy, am I sleepy and ready for bed! I started the day before 7am with a long job (10 miles again, finally!), followed by getting S to dance class & R to riding lesson (accompanied by D’s sister, who is herself a rider). We had a relaxing afternoon, just hanging out, and then Aunt H left and R decided she wanted to re-arrange her room, which took the rest of the afternoon. D & S napped. I wish I had!
Tomorrow, even though it’s Sunday, I’m working 7am-3pm. Not really looking forward to it, but the pay is good. The cough I have is persistent. Running doesn’t seem to make it any worse – in fact, it may help it – but I know I need more sleep. Bonne nuit.
Friday, January 21, 2005
Undeferring the funny story
R's 4th grade teacher told me during our parent/teacher conference that on Tuesday (the day after the MLK holiday and the day after Lime's death), her whole class, which is normally very active anyway, was so hyper that it was like having a roomful of monkeys on speed. Well, actually, she just said it was like having a room full of hyperactive kids, but I don't think that paints the picture as well.
Anyway, the children were so out of control that toward the end of the day, the teacher stopped everything and everyone, and went to the chalkboard and wrote something like this:
"Dear Miss Jane,
Today during class, many people were rude, silly and disrespectful."
The children were each to get out a piece of paper and complete the letter. Lest you think she was totally off her rocker, they have been working on letter writing lately.
During the conference, she said she wanted to show me R's letter. I braced myself, but since she was already laughing about it, I wasn't too worried. Anyway, it went like this:
"Dear Miss Jane,
Today during class, many people were rude, silly and disrespectful.
I'm sorry if I was one of them, but you should know that I have been going though a lot lately, such as a recent pet death.
R--"
Anyway, the children were so out of control that toward the end of the day, the teacher stopped everything and everyone, and went to the chalkboard and wrote something like this:
"Dear Miss Jane,
Today during class, many people were rude, silly and disrespectful."
The children were each to get out a piece of paper and complete the letter. Lest you think she was totally off her rocker, they have been working on letter writing lately.
During the conference, she said she wanted to show me R's letter. I braced myself, but since she was already laughing about it, I wasn't too worried. Anyway, it went like this:
"Dear Miss Jane,
Today during class, many people were rude, silly and disrespectful.
I'm sorry if I was one of them, but you should know that I have been going though a lot lately, such as a recent pet death.
R--"
Thursday, January 20, 2005
Saved by Sleepiness
Beloved audience,
You are hereby spared yet another how-my-kids-are-so-cute story because I am too sleepy to blog it. You'll get it tomorrow. Learn to live with the nail-biting suspense, already.
Here's what I did today, for the what-I-did-today record:
work
parent/teacher conference (insert funny story here)
get the kids from their Thurs afterschool care
home for snack for them and late lunch for me
gymnastics for R
to a sandwich shop for a highly nutritious dinner (This is the very closest we ever get to fast food, and it's when I'm glad the kids will take veggies on their sandwiches)
35 minute run at the gym for me, kids happily in childcare there. (I'm so glad they love doing that, still.)
bedtime routine
I fell asleep in the big bed with the girls after reading another dramatic entry of The Dark is Rising and only woke up at 10:30 and thought, "Oh no! I haven't blogged yet!"and then crankily accused D of taking advantage of the "alone" time in a quiet house instead of coming to check on me/us. He now has instructions to save me from myself if I fall asleep prematurely again. Sheesh. What? Does he think I need rest, or something?
The truth is, I do sometimes have a moment of anxiety wondering if one of these nights I'll fall asleep early and not wake up until after midnight - without having blogged! Yikes!
I mean, it's become that important to me to do this every day.
Back to bed now. Bed. That big flat horizontal piece of furniture that I love so much.
Bed is my friend.
You are hereby spared yet another how-my-kids-are-so-cute story because I am too sleepy to blog it. You'll get it tomorrow. Learn to live with the nail-biting suspense, already.
Here's what I did today, for the what-I-did-today record:
work
parent/teacher conference (insert funny story here)
get the kids from their Thurs afterschool care
home for snack for them and late lunch for me
gymnastics for R
to a sandwich shop for a highly nutritious dinner (This is the very closest we ever get to fast food, and it's when I'm glad the kids will take veggies on their sandwiches)
35 minute run at the gym for me, kids happily in childcare there. (I'm so glad they love doing that, still.)
bedtime routine
I fell asleep in the big bed with the girls after reading another dramatic entry of The Dark is Rising and only woke up at 10:30 and thought, "Oh no! I haven't blogged yet!"and then crankily accused D of taking advantage of the "alone" time in a quiet house instead of coming to check on me/us. He now has instructions to save me from myself if I fall asleep prematurely again. Sheesh. What? Does he think I need rest, or something?
The truth is, I do sometimes have a moment of anxiety wondering if one of these nights I'll fall asleep early and not wake up until after midnight - without having blogged! Yikes!
I mean, it's become that important to me to do this every day.
Back to bed now. Bed. That big flat horizontal piece of furniture that I love so much.
Bed is my friend.
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Writer's group : good
Another horribly insanely busy day at work (the other person who shares some of my job duties is out all week in Costa Rica - the nerve!), but the afternoon was peaceful at home with the girls after a conference with S's Kindergarten teacher. I found out when the conference was winding down that I'd confused my dates and was supposed to be meeting with the 4th grade teacher instead, but it worked itself out eventually. This seems to be my week for making mistakes. Think of all the lessons I'm learning! How exciting!
Writer's Group tonight : excerpts from the gals' highly entertaining novels, and a little from the uncomfortable short story I'm writing, as well as the usual deeply satisfying gabbing about all topics under the sun. Worth staying up late for.
I haven't been able to shake the cold I've had for a couple of weeks, though. Hmm...could it be the lack of a full night's sleep, or the not having taken a day of work? I wish I could just sleep all day and drink tons of good stuff (not necessarily vodka) and get over it.
The next few weeks will be challenging: getting geared up for the charter school's auction (I'll be writing all the "copy" for marketing both silent and live auction items) and training for the 1/2 marathon. The auction is the 5th and the race the 6th. Not the best timing. Also potentially I'll be getting a new car in the next 2-4 weeks. I feel like I need my strength to be there, and these wimpy little coughs I have all day are not inspiring confidence.
But really, all is well, and all shall be well, and the niggling little stuff doesn't matter a whit.
Writer's Group tonight : excerpts from the gals' highly entertaining novels, and a little from the uncomfortable short story I'm writing, as well as the usual deeply satisfying gabbing about all topics under the sun. Worth staying up late for.
I haven't been able to shake the cold I've had for a couple of weeks, though. Hmm...could it be the lack of a full night's sleep, or the not having taken a day of work? I wish I could just sleep all day and drink tons of good stuff (not necessarily vodka) and get over it.
The next few weeks will be challenging: getting geared up for the charter school's auction (I'll be writing all the "copy" for marketing both silent and live auction items) and training for the 1/2 marathon. The auction is the 5th and the race the 6th. Not the best timing. Also potentially I'll be getting a new car in the next 2-4 weeks. I feel like I need my strength to be there, and these wimpy little coughs I have all day are not inspiring confidence.
But really, all is well, and all shall be well, and the niggling little stuff doesn't matter a whit.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
Life's lessons
I'm afraid the patient didn't make it, which was no less depressing for being half-expected.
I wasn't here in the morning to tell the girls the news- I'd been at work over an hour by the time they got up, but I called to check in and they seemed okay about it.
I got a voicemail message from my cell phone from R around 11 or so, though. When I called back, I learned that she'd been in the office twice so far, feeling blue. They'd finally had her speak with the school's educational director, who might qualify as the best "counselor" there right now. But this director (very Waldorf trained and up until now respected by me) not only commiserated with R, she also told her that animals that have been paired with other animals generally do not do well when left alone, and we should consider getting another bird to keep the remaining one company. That's right, for those of you like Lisa who are surprised or even outraged to hear this, I'll say it again: this woman in a position of authority suggested that we should replace our dead pet, and soon.
Weigh against this the idea that it's better to give kids a chance to experience loss a little, and that I don't want them to think it's that easy: a pet dies, you get a new one. Besides, just on the off-chance that it was a birdie virus that killed Lime, Lemon (the widow/er) could also be sick. How irresponsible would it be for us to get a new bird just in time for Lemon to infect it and then drop to the bottom of the cage him/herself? And what if Lemon doesn't like the new bird? And - more to the point, I think - this is not a decision that a teacher or school administrator should be making, right?
So we had an impromptu family meeting in the two minutes that we were all home this evening (before I dashed off to a meeting for the school auction), and we've decided to wait and see: observe Lemon, take it slow. I think the indecision is hard on the kids, though, and I think we'll end up replacing the bird. But on our terms, not the kids' "Can we go to the pet store right now" terms and not based on someone else's, "The survivor will be sad and lonely otherwise," suggestion.
On a completely different note, can I just say that sometimes, for all the great pay and the wonderful service we provide and other incredible perks - sometimes, work is just not worth it. If I'd had any more brutal an afternoon, I would have had to sit in my car and bawl before I even left the company's parking lot. As it was, I was over an hour late picking up my (mourning, grieving, needing-mommy) kids, and I had 3 phone calls from work before I made it 10 miles from the office. Blech. There's more, but I'm pretty much over it. D had to hear me "download" the ickiness. I only had a little left. I'm better now. Thanks for listening.
I wasn't here in the morning to tell the girls the news- I'd been at work over an hour by the time they got up, but I called to check in and they seemed okay about it.
I got a voicemail message from my cell phone from R around 11 or so, though. When I called back, I learned that she'd been in the office twice so far, feeling blue. They'd finally had her speak with the school's educational director, who might qualify as the best "counselor" there right now. But this director (very Waldorf trained and up until now respected by me) not only commiserated with R, she also told her that animals that have been paired with other animals generally do not do well when left alone, and we should consider getting another bird to keep the remaining one company. That's right, for those of you like Lisa who are surprised or even outraged to hear this, I'll say it again: this woman in a position of authority suggested that we should replace our dead pet, and soon.
Weigh against this the idea that it's better to give kids a chance to experience loss a little, and that I don't want them to think it's that easy: a pet dies, you get a new one. Besides, just on the off-chance that it was a birdie virus that killed Lime, Lemon (the widow/er) could also be sick. How irresponsible would it be for us to get a new bird just in time for Lemon to infect it and then drop to the bottom of the cage him/herself? And what if Lemon doesn't like the new bird? And - more to the point, I think - this is not a decision that a teacher or school administrator should be making, right?
So we had an impromptu family meeting in the two minutes that we were all home this evening (before I dashed off to a meeting for the school auction), and we've decided to wait and see: observe Lemon, take it slow. I think the indecision is hard on the kids, though, and I think we'll end up replacing the bird. But on our terms, not the kids' "Can we go to the pet store right now" terms and not based on someone else's, "The survivor will be sad and lonely otherwise," suggestion.
On a completely different note, can I just say that sometimes, for all the great pay and the wonderful service we provide and other incredible perks - sometimes, work is just not worth it. If I'd had any more brutal an afternoon, I would have had to sit in my car and bawl before I even left the company's parking lot. As it was, I was over an hour late picking up my (mourning, grieving, needing-mommy) kids, and I had 3 phone calls from work before I made it 10 miles from the office. Blech. There's more, but I'm pretty much over it. D had to hear me "download" the ickiness. I only had a little left. I'm better now. Thanks for listening.
Monday, January 17, 2005
Vigil
While I write this, one of my daughter's two parakeets is sitting on the bottom of the cage, breathing in a way that is just wrong for a bird. I've got the cage in a warm, darkened, quiet room, and at this point, we simply need to wait and see if he's going to make it through the night.
At first, he'd been in his food dish, and R had thought maybe he was really a she (since we've never been too sure about this with either parakeet) and maybe she was laying eggs, at which point the girls did a great gleeful happy dance all over the livingroom, squealing and crying, "Babies! Babies!"
After I'd taken one look at him, though, I'd warned the kids that the bird might not be nesting. S/he might, I said, be very sick. (I mean, this parakeet looked for all the world like Job after he turned his face to the wall. And I'm sure the squeals of joy a few minutes before hadn't helped.)
With my diagnosis, the girls were so distraught that they could hardly think. I made them get into their pj's and the five-year old said, "Mommy, but what if Lime dies tonight?. We'll have to dig a hole and put him in a graveyard. Why are you so happy?"
"I'm not happy," I said, "I'm very worried too."
"Then why are you talking in a loud voice?" she asked.
So I lowered my voice to an anxious whisper to match theirs and said, "I'm sorry. I hope Lime doesn't die. But you still have to get into your jammies."
I'm that kind of mom.
R asked to call a friend and ended up leaving a very rambling, distraught message on their machine before I realized she wasn't actually talking to anyone.
Later, S said, "It's just that I love Lime and I'm very feeling very protecting of him. Because he's such a little animal."
And R added, "And I feel the worst out of everyone, because I practically raised him from an egg, and I'm his mama."
We talked a little about how hard it is that birds don't show they're sick until they're very sick. I called around and spoke to a few vet answering services, and finally consulted with an emergency vet clinic in Berkeley. The doctor there passed along the message that there's not much more we can do than what we're doing. It doesn't seem to be a female bird with egg binding (a stuck egg, which of course can kill her), but I'd only done a superficial exam, and I didn't want to disturb Lime any more than necessary anyway.
I can hear the girls in the other room now, working at the kitchen table: S is drawing pictures, R is finishing a book report on poster board. There's also the sound of suckling baby polar bears, which would be very unnerving if I didn't know what it was.
The girls sound cheerful again, but the last I'd checked, R had started to draw a tombstone on a piece of paper. It had writing on it: "Lime P----, a good bird who was nice, 2001-2005."
"Honey!" I'd said, "He's not dead yet. Don't do that."
"I know," she'd answered, "but this is handy, just in case...you know."
What a strange combination of drama and practicality she is.
Hmm.
At first, he'd been in his food dish, and R had thought maybe he was really a she (since we've never been too sure about this with either parakeet) and maybe she was laying eggs, at which point the girls did a great gleeful happy dance all over the livingroom, squealing and crying, "Babies! Babies!"
After I'd taken one look at him, though, I'd warned the kids that the bird might not be nesting. S/he might, I said, be very sick. (I mean, this parakeet looked for all the world like Job after he turned his face to the wall. And I'm sure the squeals of joy a few minutes before hadn't helped.)
With my diagnosis, the girls were so distraught that they could hardly think. I made them get into their pj's and the five-year old said, "Mommy, but what if Lime dies tonight?. We'll have to dig a hole and put him in a graveyard. Why are you so happy?"
"I'm not happy," I said, "I'm very worried too."
"Then why are you talking in a loud voice?" she asked.
So I lowered my voice to an anxious whisper to match theirs and said, "I'm sorry. I hope Lime doesn't die. But you still have to get into your jammies."
I'm that kind of mom.
R asked to call a friend and ended up leaving a very rambling, distraught message on their machine before I realized she wasn't actually talking to anyone.
Later, S said, "It's just that I love Lime and I'm very feeling very protecting of him. Because he's such a little animal."
And R added, "And I feel the worst out of everyone, because I practically raised him from an egg, and I'm his mama."
We talked a little about how hard it is that birds don't show they're sick until they're very sick. I called around and spoke to a few vet answering services, and finally consulted with an emergency vet clinic in Berkeley. The doctor there passed along the message that there's not much more we can do than what we're doing. It doesn't seem to be a female bird with egg binding (a stuck egg, which of course can kill her), but I'd only done a superficial exam, and I didn't want to disturb Lime any more than necessary anyway.
I can hear the girls in the other room now, working at the kitchen table: S is drawing pictures, R is finishing a book report on poster board. There's also the sound of suckling baby polar bears, which would be very unnerving if I didn't know what it was.
The girls sound cheerful again, but the last I'd checked, R had started to draw a tombstone on a piece of paper. It had writing on it: "Lime P----, a good bird who was nice, 2001-2005."
"Honey!" I'd said, "He's not dead yet. Don't do that."
"I know," she'd answered, "but this is handy, just in case...you know."
What a strange combination of drama and practicality she is.
Hmm.
Sunday, January 16, 2005
The Best Laid Plans
Somewhere between 6pm and 8pm, the drive I had to completely clean up and organize the house curled up in a corner and fell asleep. I could start blogging in the early morning, say before I leave for work, but it's unlikely that I'll have many inspiring thoughts at 5am. Unlikely, but possible. Maybe I'll try that tomorrow.
Today went like this: I ran from 7:55-9:23 (8 miles, 11 minute mile pace), showered, dressed, and went to the the cafe to write (well, to talk and write a little anyway) with the writer's group gals. Later, D dropped off the kids at the cafe & I took the elder to a friend's house for an all afternoon playdate & the younger to the mall with me to return some things and buy a few more things: photo boxes and a scrap book for myself using a gift card from my sister, and for the girls, long-requested but somewhat frightening little stuffed polar bears that wine and whimper, suck very noisily from a bottle, and on top of all that have the audacity to snore.
After shopping, we picked up R, and the two girls and I worked off a payment plan for them to cover half of the expense and ill-mannered bears. Then we had a healthy dinner, followed by cleaning of bird and rat cages, bath, vitamins and teeth-brushing (the girls, not the pets). They're waiting for their nightly installment of The Dark is Rising (the girls, not the pets), so I have to stop writing now.
And just posting this has awoken my tidy-and-organize drive, and I might just be able to plow through Mt. Clean Laundry enough to find my bedroom floor once I took the children and Snowy Sleeping Beauty and Sagwa (the bears) in bed.
Today went like this: I ran from 7:55-9:23 (8 miles, 11 minute mile pace), showered, dressed, and went to the the cafe to write (well, to talk and write a little anyway) with the writer's group gals. Later, D dropped off the kids at the cafe & I took the elder to a friend's house for an all afternoon playdate & the younger to the mall with me to return some things and buy a few more things: photo boxes and a scrap book for myself using a gift card from my sister, and for the girls, long-requested but somewhat frightening little stuffed polar bears that wine and whimper, suck very noisily from a bottle, and on top of all that have the audacity to snore.
After shopping, we picked up R, and the two girls and I worked off a payment plan for them to cover half of the expense and ill-mannered bears. Then we had a healthy dinner, followed by cleaning of bird and rat cages, bath, vitamins and teeth-brushing (the girls, not the pets). They're waiting for their nightly installment of The Dark is Rising (the girls, not the pets), so I have to stop writing now.
And just posting this has awoken my tidy-and-organize drive, and I might just be able to plow through Mt. Clean Laundry enough to find my bedroom floor once I took the children and Snowy Sleeping Beauty and Sagwa (the bears) in bed.
Saturday, January 15, 2005
Cold and sleepy
Since it was Titan-cold today, I didn't get any gardening done. I did run while R had her riding lesson, which warmed me up a lot. And then took a two-hour nap this afternoon, while S & D napped too and R read. I love Saturday afternoon naps. I don't mind Sunday afternoon naps, either, and if I didn't work, I'd nap Monday through Friday too. When I was young, I read once about a study that had been done showing that people tend to have better dreams when they sleep during the day than when the sleep at night. I've liked afternoon naps ever since.
Hmmm. There's something I could say about how I made up stories at night to put myself to sleep when I was little. There's something I could say about night battles in my dreams, about lucid dreaming. But not this late, and not when I'm this tired. My judgment is blurred. Maybe tomorrow, when writing with the gals at the coffee shop, if I need a break from working on my "pawn shop" story. We'll see.
Hmmm. There's something I could say about how I made up stories at night to put myself to sleep when I was little. There's something I could say about night battles in my dreams, about lucid dreaming. But not this late, and not when I'm this tired. My judgment is blurred. Maybe tomorrow, when writing with the gals at the coffee shop, if I need a break from working on my "pawn shop" story. We'll see.
Friday, January 14, 2005
It's always nice to make it to Friday
By Friday, the bribery I've used all week to get me out of bed and to work can itself take a rest. This weekend will be the first one in ages where there won't be rain. Things haven't dried up enough for us to want to dig in the adobe again, but at least I could work on finding the backyard under all the weeds if I wanted to. Tomorrow, S starts her new ballet (although Thurs. was a preview "makeup" class), and R has riding lessons. Sunday I'll have BIC time. And somewhere in there, I'll get a couple more runs in. Today, it was 6 miles on the treadmill, some of which was "pick-ups" where I pushed myself until I was breathing hard. It turns out that breathing hard at the end of a longer run now means 8 miles per hour where it once meant 6.5. Still slow by many runners' standards, but I'm happy with the change. The head cold I've had honestly seems to be clearing up, although I could still try to get a spot on radio or in disreputable phone work with my voice.
Clare says she's made this page her home page! Wow, am I honored. And it gives me even more incentive to write. I wish I had something more interesting to say than "had tea with Mr & Mrs. J" but really that's what this blog often gets down to. So sue me. It's a journal, folks. :)
Here's the philosophical thought I had before I sat down to write, though. I'd fallen asleep on the couch with the girls - all of us in a big snoring pile of arms and legs and blanket - while D was on the phone with his best friend (a nightly occurrence), and when I got up to put the girls to bed, I was feeling (for the moment) unlovely and unloved.
I recognized the feeling and let it go and am now fine - especially easy once I remembered all of the many blessings in my life, including the love of family and friends. But that low moment also led to an epiphany ("I just had an apostrophe!" as Smee would say. )
Those of us walking the earth who feel unlovely and unloved are capable of great harm to ourselves and others. We have nothing to lose. We feel we are justified in striking out. This is old news - thousands of books and plays and true life crime stories and statistics have been born of this very well-known concept. I just understood it more clearly tonight than I have before. Does this mean that one angry unloved person who has hurt other people can always be won back by the love of one other person? Always? No, I think not. I think that violence and self-righteous self-loathing have their own addictive qualities that are hard to fight. Is love as addictive? If one is addicted to it, is it really love? No, I think not. But how else to explain the majority of us moths searching for a light to fly into? For Plato, it was the Forms looking for the Ideal, if I remember correctly. For others, it's something else. Something to do with God or the Universe. Obviously, it's time to read more. Not just Tolle, but also from some of the scores of philosophy books I still have from college. I was just a few credits shy of being a Philosophy Major, after all. I'm a moth trying to read the map on my wings.
Clare says she's made this page her home page! Wow, am I honored. And it gives me even more incentive to write. I wish I had something more interesting to say than "had tea with Mr & Mrs. J" but really that's what this blog often gets down to. So sue me. It's a journal, folks. :)
Here's the philosophical thought I had before I sat down to write, though. I'd fallen asleep on the couch with the girls - all of us in a big snoring pile of arms and legs and blanket - while D was on the phone with his best friend (a nightly occurrence), and when I got up to put the girls to bed, I was feeling (for the moment) unlovely and unloved.
I recognized the feeling and let it go and am now fine - especially easy once I remembered all of the many blessings in my life, including the love of family and friends. But that low moment also led to an epiphany ("I just had an apostrophe!" as Smee would say. )
Those of us walking the earth who feel unlovely and unloved are capable of great harm to ourselves and others. We have nothing to lose. We feel we are justified in striking out. This is old news - thousands of books and plays and true life crime stories and statistics have been born of this very well-known concept. I just understood it more clearly tonight than I have before. Does this mean that one angry unloved person who has hurt other people can always be won back by the love of one other person? Always? No, I think not. I think that violence and self-righteous self-loathing have their own addictive qualities that are hard to fight. Is love as addictive? If one is addicted to it, is it really love? No, I think not. But how else to explain the majority of us moths searching for a light to fly into? For Plato, it was the Forms looking for the Ideal, if I remember correctly. For others, it's something else. Something to do with God or the Universe. Obviously, it's time to read more. Not just Tolle, but also from some of the scores of philosophy books I still have from college. I was just a few credits shy of being a Philosophy Major, after all. I'm a moth trying to read the map on my wings.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
A scribble before bath & bed
That's about all I'm good for, now. A quick note to keep up the posting habit. (Notice how I didn't say "dare.")
I've been going to bed earlier, getting to work on time (or close to it), and leaving work on time. All good habits, but it means that crazy thought I had of running at the gym from 8-9:30 went out the window.
Tomorrow, says Scarlet.
My voice sounds wretched but I feel fine, so in spite of several co-workers insisting I should be home sick (or at least take advantage of my voice & fake it & stay home sick), I don't expect to miss work and I hope to run at least 2 of the next 3 days.
R is just fine. So is S. And D. And I'm sure all the other letters of the alphabet are doing fine too, in their funky-fonted way.
Say good night, Gracie.
I've been going to bed earlier, getting to work on time (or close to it), and leaving work on time. All good habits, but it means that crazy thought I had of running at the gym from 8-9:30 went out the window.
Tomorrow, says Scarlet.
My voice sounds wretched but I feel fine, so in spite of several co-workers insisting I should be home sick (or at least take advantage of my voice & fake it & stay home sick), I don't expect to miss work and I hope to run at least 2 of the next 3 days.
R is just fine. So is S. And D. And I'm sure all the other letters of the alphabet are doing fine too, in their funky-fonted way.
Say good night, Gracie.
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
And even that worked itself out pretty well
So in spite of any lingering concerns I might have had, the fearsome engineer was perfectly reasonable about yesterday's mistake, and the day at work went well. Busy, as usual, but fine. For which I am horribly grateful.
I did have to leave an hour early (again) to get R from school. Whatever low-grade bug she has, it doesn't come with any symptoms other than a headache and slight stomach ache and no energy. She was apparently depressed all day at school yesterday, too. But she napped this afternoon and rested all evening, and I hope to have all the girls in the house in bed by 8 tonight - thus the earlier than usual post.
Signed up S (aka Isadora Duncan) for ballet again - her request, even though she's not yet six and she said she'd start to dance again when she's six. I'm glad she's not waiting. She so obviously loves dance, and takes it so seriously when she does dance for us, it seems like a good idea to let her pursue it this way. This time, she'll be with the local studio that puts on the Nutcracker, so in theory, she could perform in it in a year and a half. (They must be 6 and must have danced for a year at the studio). We'll see how it goes. If it starts to kill her love to dance, we'll probably stop again.
But there's a fine line I've discussed with other parents before - when do you push, to teach your child discipline and that they can't just quit things in life, and give them the chance to get beyond resistance or plateaus into a place of greater competence and confidence - and when do you back off, simplify and let them let it go?
I did have to leave an hour early (again) to get R from school. Whatever low-grade bug she has, it doesn't come with any symptoms other than a headache and slight stomach ache and no energy. She was apparently depressed all day at school yesterday, too. But she napped this afternoon and rested all evening, and I hope to have all the girls in the house in bed by 8 tonight - thus the earlier than usual post.
Signed up S (aka Isadora Duncan) for ballet again - her request, even though she's not yet six and she said she'd start to dance again when she's six. I'm glad she's not waiting. She so obviously loves dance, and takes it so seriously when she does dance for us, it seems like a good idea to let her pursue it this way. This time, she'll be with the local studio that puts on the Nutcracker, so in theory, she could perform in it in a year and a half. (They must be 6 and must have danced for a year at the studio). We'll see how it goes. If it starts to kill her love to dance, we'll probably stop again.
But there's a fine line I've discussed with other parents before - when do you push, to teach your child discipline and that they can't just quit things in life, and give them the chance to get beyond resistance or plateaus into a place of greater competence and confidence - and when do you back off, simplify and let them let it go?
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
All is Well
How lovely to come home (at 10:45pm!) to the supportive comments from my friends. It means a lot, especially considering the day, which was challenging but rewarding. As far as our guests from Japan are concerned, I believe it was a successful day. We picked them up at noon as expected, drove them back to the office under scrubbed-clean blue skies dotted only here and there with puffy white clouds, had our tour and our meeting, and answered all of the questions they had prepared for us. Then we went back to the city and to Mac World, answering more questions on the way and telling them more about our approach to tradeshows and how we market our company. We toured the show, H-san realized he had left his business cards at our office but I was able to contact someone else coming to the city in time to have him meet us at the restaurant with the business cards (phew!). Dinner was probably the best series of gourmet courses I have ever had in my life, and I may ask the restaurant to fax me their menu so I can post all the incredible foods I ate, because I'm sure I'll never see that type of meal again and I want to document the occasion.
The only real glitch in the day, which I've pretty much already let go of so I can sleep a full night in peace and get on with my life, is that during our tour the VP of Sales and I (both of whom should have known better) committed a major faux-pas and brought our honored guests into one engineering area without adequate (and, as I learned, previously requested) forewarning for the engineers. This resulted in the person in the company with the one of the worst tempers becoming livid, and unloading what I know was only a fraction of his fury at me in a quick aside while the tour was completing. I sit next to this guy every day. In some ways, he's my boss. Tomorrow morning, I'll no doubt hear the rest of his incensed lecture about how completely terrible what we did was. I mean, he was pissed. And he's a big, angry guy in general. And why was he pissed? Besides the stupidity and disrespect of us not warning him - when really, really, we knew better, I admit it - he's sure that our guests were only there to see what they could about our technical process to steal it. That's his take on it. Mine is not quite so paranoid or racist. Besides which, I'm convinced they couldn't have seen anything from the 20 seconds they were partially in the room that would have told them anything of importance. But it'll be a long time before I hear the end of it, and a long time before the sore spot that was created today heals, if it ever does.
But as for me? I don't care. I just don't. I really am not concerned about what happened. I'm only hoping I can maintain the correct respect and contriteness while keeping detached and while not letting on that I really don't give a fig about his anger and that I refuse to take up the anxiety and negative *stuff* that he'll be wanting to perpetuate for who-knows-how-long. That's his deal. It's not mine.
Sigh.
I mean, come on. Lighten up, buddy. We don't have that kind of time. Move on.
The only real glitch in the day, which I've pretty much already let go of so I can sleep a full night in peace and get on with my life, is that during our tour the VP of Sales and I (both of whom should have known better) committed a major faux-pas and brought our honored guests into one engineering area without adequate (and, as I learned, previously requested) forewarning for the engineers. This resulted in the person in the company with the one of the worst tempers becoming livid, and unloading what I know was only a fraction of his fury at me in a quick aside while the tour was completing. I sit next to this guy every day. In some ways, he's my boss. Tomorrow morning, I'll no doubt hear the rest of his incensed lecture about how completely terrible what we did was. I mean, he was pissed. And he's a big, angry guy in general. And why was he pissed? Besides the stupidity and disrespect of us not warning him - when really, really, we knew better, I admit it - he's sure that our guests were only there to see what they could about our technical process to steal it. That's his take on it. Mine is not quite so paranoid or racist. Besides which, I'm convinced they couldn't have seen anything from the 20 seconds they were partially in the room that would have told them anything of importance. But it'll be a long time before I hear the end of it, and a long time before the sore spot that was created today heals, if it ever does.
But as for me? I don't care. I just don't. I really am not concerned about what happened. I'm only hoping I can maintain the correct respect and contriteness while keeping detached and while not letting on that I really don't give a fig about his anger and that I refuse to take up the anxiety and negative *stuff* that he'll be wanting to perpetuate for who-knows-how-long. That's his deal. It's not mine.
Sigh.
I mean, come on. Lighten up, buddy. We don't have that kind of time. Move on.
Monday, January 10, 2005
Curve balls
Sometimes life throws you curve balls, and it's hard to remember that there's a reason for them just as much as - mabye more than - the clockwork smooth days with which we are sometimes blessed.
I had an appointment today at 2, and so made every effort to leave work at 1:30, only to be waylaid by several last-second emergencies, including one that shot the appointment to bits, anyway: a call from the school to say that R wasn't feeling well. After about 30 minutes of poorly-controlled frustration while I tried (in vain) to cancel my appointment by phone, I remembered to take a breath and know that in the big scheme of things, it didn't matter. Maybe I was really meant to leave work at 1:30 to get R all along, and the appointment's timing was just put in place (a month ago) to allow me that opening. I think that's how life works.
Anyway, we had a quiet afternoon and evening at home. There's a fire going in the wood burning stove, S. is in the bath, and R. is working on a book report. D. is at his weekly gaming session, and the rain is coming down outside with great mocking drops because I had my car detailed today in preparation for driving H-san and his assistant around tomorrow from the city to the office to the show.
If I stop writing now and focus on the bedtime routine, we might all be asleep before 9. Hooray!
I had an appointment today at 2, and so made every effort to leave work at 1:30, only to be waylaid by several last-second emergencies, including one that shot the appointment to bits, anyway: a call from the school to say that R wasn't feeling well. After about 30 minutes of poorly-controlled frustration while I tried (in vain) to cancel my appointment by phone, I remembered to take a breath and know that in the big scheme of things, it didn't matter. Maybe I was really meant to leave work at 1:30 to get R all along, and the appointment's timing was just put in place (a month ago) to allow me that opening. I think that's how life works.
Anyway, we had a quiet afternoon and evening at home. There's a fire going in the wood burning stove, S. is in the bath, and R. is working on a book report. D. is at his weekly gaming session, and the rain is coming down outside with great mocking drops because I had my car detailed today in preparation for driving H-san and his assistant around tomorrow from the city to the office to the show.
If I stop writing now and focus on the bedtime routine, we might all be asleep before 9. Hooray!
Sunday, January 09, 2005
Clare's Epiphany parable and notes from today
Check out Clare's story of Fafnir. She calls it a parable, but I enjoyed it as a story too.
It's been a good day. Slept in until 7:30, felt better but still didn't run. Had a nice morning with the girls, then took R & her friend to her friend's house to play, and took myself to the Box to write. It's always so nice spending time with the gals and talking about such a wide variety of things, and then writing. The three of us sit in the back room of the coffee shop, each with our white Macs, and write. I came to an important point in my short story. I think I know how things might fit together, but still I know it will be a hard story to write because the subject matter is serious and there's not any room for what R would call "comical relief."
I hung out with S after writing, just had cuddle on the couch and book reading time, then we folded laundry together. Which was actually fun, too. I ran for an hour, and felt even better after the run, well enough that I really think I've beat out this cold thing in record time. Part-way through my jog, I met up with a couple from church. They're a very devout, very involved husband and wife whose son is in seminary, being sponsored by the church. And they wanted to make sure I was all right, and offer support and help in case I needed it. I assured them that just because I was away from church and questioning the basic principles of Christianity, I didn't feel outside of God's grace. They took it well.
It's been a good day. Slept in until 7:30, felt better but still didn't run. Had a nice morning with the girls, then took R & her friend to her friend's house to play, and took myself to the Box to write. It's always so nice spending time with the gals and talking about such a wide variety of things, and then writing. The three of us sit in the back room of the coffee shop, each with our white Macs, and write. I came to an important point in my short story. I think I know how things might fit together, but still I know it will be a hard story to write because the subject matter is serious and there's not any room for what R would call "comical relief."
I hung out with S after writing, just had cuddle on the couch and book reading time, then we folded laundry together. Which was actually fun, too. I ran for an hour, and felt even better after the run, well enough that I really think I've beat out this cold thing in record time. Part-way through my jog, I met up with a couple from church. They're a very devout, very involved husband and wife whose son is in seminary, being sponsored by the church. And they wanted to make sure I was all right, and offer support and help in case I needed it. I assured them that just because I was away from church and questioning the basic principles of Christianity, I didn't feel outside of God's grace. They took it well.
Saturday, January 08, 2005
Someone's Singing, My Lord...
The meeting at school went pretty well. We narrowed down our areas of focus from 100+ written statements of what would make our school outstanding to 6 things: finding a permanent "home" that would include a working farm that would inform the curriculum; funding issues; values that are clearly articulated internally and externally; top-notch teachers and staff that are well-educated, well-trained and happy; and having a community of parents, teachers and students working together with common goals. I'm not sure why I'm writing all this here. It probably couldn't matter less to everyone except the people at the school. But this blog seems to have become a way for me to process stuff, too. So maybe that explains it.
Anyway, at what other public school meeting would you start the session by singing, and close the session by standing in a circle, holding hands, singing. In a round. It wasn't Kumbaya, but it was close. And at what other school meeting would someone say in the middle of the day, "I want everyone in the room to take three deep breaths and feel their heart energy," and get away with it? And would someone else say, at the close of the session, "Everybody look out the window!" because there was a rainbow. And everybody did get up and walk over and look out the window and exclaim over the rainbow. And half of us thought it was an omen that all would be well with the school. Yeah. Scary, huh? I know. But it’s my kind of place.
And better yet, I didn't commit to anything beyond today's work.
And even better than that, I think I've beat this cold thing enough so that I can run in the morning and then go to the Box for BIC writing session.
Got to go now. R. has a friend staying overnight and I need to read another few pages of The Dark is Rising to them. It's my autographed copy from when I met Susan Cooper at a conference (Children's' Literature of New England) in 1992. Which reminds me of a coincidence - I just got my CLNE mailer for this year's conference, and I see that Neil Gaiman may be there, schedule permitting. I'd never heard of him until Kate sent him one of my poems, once. And now I hear about him all the time. What a world. Makes me want to hold hands with someone and sing in a round.
Anyway, at what other public school meeting would you start the session by singing, and close the session by standing in a circle, holding hands, singing. In a round. It wasn't Kumbaya, but it was close. And at what other school meeting would someone say in the middle of the day, "I want everyone in the room to take three deep breaths and feel their heart energy," and get away with it? And would someone else say, at the close of the session, "Everybody look out the window!" because there was a rainbow. And everybody did get up and walk over and look out the window and exclaim over the rainbow. And half of us thought it was an omen that all would be well with the school. Yeah. Scary, huh? I know. But it’s my kind of place.
And better yet, I didn't commit to anything beyond today's work.
And even better than that, I think I've beat this cold thing enough so that I can run in the morning and then go to the Box for BIC writing session.
Got to go now. R. has a friend staying overnight and I need to read another few pages of The Dark is Rising to them. It's my autographed copy from when I met Susan Cooper at a conference (Children's' Literature of New England) in 1992. Which reminds me of a coincidence - I just got my CLNE mailer for this year's conference, and I see that Neil Gaiman may be there, schedule permitting. I'd never heard of him until Kate sent him one of my poems, once. And now I hear about him all the time. What a world. Makes me want to hold hands with someone and sing in a round.
Friday, January 07, 2005
So much for that plan
Go figure. It took me longer to wrap up my blog entry and get off the internet than I'd thought it would, and by the time I did, I was so chilled that I had to have a quick hot bath. I went to bed at my usual post 10:30 time. Got up around 5:15, got to work about 15 minutes late.
Today I've been fighting off messages from my body that I'm coming down with something. I won't have it, I tell you! Must! resist! I did hold myself back from going to the gym to run today. Yeah. Right. That was difficult.
And then tonight from 6:30 until after 9pm, I was at a planning "retreat" at the girls' charter school, working with about 35 other parents on our Vision for the next 3 years. Tomorrow this "retreat" continues from 9-4 (what a way to spend a Saturday!), and I think we'll move from phase one to phase two. Phase one started with the singing of a round - I kid you not - this is a Waldorf-inspired school, after all - to small group discussions and writing down "Challenges" and "Opportunities" with environmentally-friendly crayons (because the markers were too stinky for everyone) on those massive post-it's on steroids that they now make. We put the lists on the walls and compared notes. I was inspired, I must admit.
Phase two, however, will, I suspect, be Action Plans and probably Committee Formation. I am practicing saying, "No."
"No. No. No."
Yes, I support the school - hence this weekend craziness. Yes, I'll do my part. But heck, I work full time and am also trying to write and keep house and raise kids and have a healthy marriage and train for a marathon-before-I'm-forty and learn Japanese and find a cure for cancer (schedule permitting). I can't do it all, can I? Everyone say it with me, now.
"No."
Going to bed early. Really. Because I'm fighting off this bug. The one I won't get. That one.
Today I've been fighting off messages from my body that I'm coming down with something. I won't have it, I tell you! Must! resist! I did hold myself back from going to the gym to run today. Yeah. Right. That was difficult.
And then tonight from 6:30 until after 9pm, I was at a planning "retreat" at the girls' charter school, working with about 35 other parents on our Vision for the next 3 years. Tomorrow this "retreat" continues from 9-4 (what a way to spend a Saturday!), and I think we'll move from phase one to phase two. Phase one started with the singing of a round - I kid you not - this is a Waldorf-inspired school, after all - to small group discussions and writing down "Challenges" and "Opportunities" with environmentally-friendly crayons (because the markers were too stinky for everyone) on those massive post-it's on steroids that they now make. We put the lists on the walls and compared notes. I was inspired, I must admit.
Phase two, however, will, I suspect, be Action Plans and probably Committee Formation. I am practicing saying, "No."
"No. No. No."
Yes, I support the school - hence this weekend craziness. Yes, I'll do my part. But heck, I work full time and am also trying to write and keep house and raise kids and have a healthy marriage and train for a marathon-before-I'm-forty and learn Japanese and find a cure for cancer (schedule permitting). I can't do it all, can I? Everyone say it with me, now.
"No."
Going to bed early. Really. Because I'm fighting off this bug. The one I won't get. That one.
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Less than perfect is okay
It's only 9:15 and I may go to bed right after posting this blog - and get more than 6 hours of sleep! I know - it's so boring to just sleep when I could be finding the cure for cancer or at least folding the mountain of clean laundry. But as D pointed out, when I'm chatting with him at the dinner table, and I blink, and my eyes sort of stay rolled up in my skull, it's a hint that I need to get to bed at a decent hour.
Tuesday, representatives from one of our Japanese "partner" companies will be here, and I'll be picking them up at their hotel, bringing them to the office for a meeting and brief tour, then taking them to MacWorld, and then out to dinner. Fortunately, the VP of Sales and the CEO will be joining me for most of these activities, so I don't have to entertain them alone or be the best sales exec. on the planet. I just need to dress well, have a really clean car, show up, drive carefully, pay attention, and relax.
And this is where I publicly remind myself that if I don't buy a new (inexpensive yet tasteful and well-fitted) business suit, it's OKAY. And if I don't review the Japanese I knew plus learn more, it's OKAY. And my weight is all right, and can't be changed too much in 4 days anyway. And I don'thave to call the local Toyota dealerships and insist they somehow come up with my new car a few weeks early just so I have something nice to drive these guys around in.
I am so neurotic. And tired. Neurotic and tired - a bad combination. Going to bed should eliminate at least one of those things.
Tuesday, representatives from one of our Japanese "partner" companies will be here, and I'll be picking them up at their hotel, bringing them to the office for a meeting and brief tour, then taking them to MacWorld, and then out to dinner. Fortunately, the VP of Sales and the CEO will be joining me for most of these activities, so I don't have to entertain them alone or be the best sales exec. on the planet. I just need to dress well, have a really clean car, show up, drive carefully, pay attention, and relax.
And this is where I publicly remind myself that if I don't buy a new (inexpensive yet tasteful and well-fitted) business suit, it's OKAY. And if I don't review the Japanese I knew plus learn more, it's OKAY. And my weight is all right, and can't be changed too much in 4 days anyway. And I don'thave to call the local Toyota dealerships and insist they somehow come up with my new car a few weeks early just so I have something nice to drive these guys around in.
I am so neurotic. And tired. Neurotic and tired - a bad combination. Going to bed should eliminate at least one of those things.
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
Expletive expose
Lately, S. has taken to saying, “Darn-it!”when you tell her “No.” (As in, No, you can’t have two desserts, No, you can’t stay up until 9pm, No, you can’t wear a tank-top in the rain in December. That kind of thing.) I’ve been suggesting milder words, words that won’t annoy the other Kindergartener’s parents when their little one’s pick them up from my kid. I feel “drat” might work, or “gosh” or “golly” or maybe even, “dang-it.” Of course, this is coming from someone who – much to the distress of a coworker – just yesterday said, “That’s swell!” about some good news. And meant it.
So I was surprised when the other day S., in a fit of mock-5-year-old anger, said “Jesus Christ!” Now that I write this, I wonder why I was surprised, since one of D’s most common exclamations of frustration is “Jesus H. Tap-Dancing Christ on a Biscuit!”
And here I thought our daughters never listen to us…
I very carefully explained to S. that some people, myself included, really do not like to hear God’s or Jesus’ names used as swear words. I said, “If you want to say ‘Jesus Christ,’ say it when you’re praying. Not when you’re mad. Don’t use it that way. That’s not okay.”
Later that day, she was upset about something else, and – I am not making this up – she said, “Jesus Christ!” paused, and glancing at me out of the corner of her eye, added, “Amen.”
So I was surprised when the other day S., in a fit of mock-5-year-old anger, said “Jesus Christ!” Now that I write this, I wonder why I was surprised, since one of D’s most common exclamations of frustration is “Jesus H. Tap-Dancing Christ on a Biscuit!”
And here I thought our daughters never listen to us…
I very carefully explained to S. that some people, myself included, really do not like to hear God’s or Jesus’ names used as swear words. I said, “If you want to say ‘Jesus Christ,’ say it when you’re praying. Not when you’re mad. Don’t use it that way. That’s not okay.”
Later that day, she was upset about something else, and – I am not making this up – she said, “Jesus Christ!” paused, and glancing at me out of the corner of her eye, added, “Amen.”
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
Will Write For Sushi
So I see that Ethel (aka Vivian Vixen aka Luscious Lola aka Ava, She Who Ties Knots in Cherry Stems With Her Tongue)has said she'll take me out for sushi for every day that I blog this calendar year. How nice! Thanks Ethel. But really, sushi once a year for a year of blogging will be fine. We are talking about the Julian calendar, right? Not some other calendar like the 400+ day Roman calendar?
Tonight is a Writer's Group Meeting, for which I am inadequately prepared. I'm making a habit of this. One more habit to lose, although as Mark Twain allegedly said, "Habit is habit and not to be flung out of the window by any man, but coaxed downstairs a step at a time."
I just checked and the results are not yet in for the poetry contest I entered last year, so it's too soon to say I didn't win or place. Maybe I can finish and submit something else. That way, I'm always waiting for news.
And yet, also not waiting. Trying to live in the moment. Now.
Tonight is a Writer's Group Meeting, for which I am inadequately prepared. I'm making a habit of this. One more habit to lose, although as Mark Twain allegedly said, "Habit is habit and not to be flung out of the window by any man, but coaxed downstairs a step at a time."
I just checked and the results are not yet in for the poetry contest I entered last year, so it's too soon to say I didn't win or place. Maybe I can finish and submit something else. That way, I'm always waiting for news.
And yet, also not waiting. Trying to live in the moment. Now.
Monday, January 03, 2005
And then there were titles
I've decided to add titles to my blog. I may change the look in other ways, as well in the coming week.
My co-worker (let's call her Ethel) said she liked seeing me blog more regularly again, and I announced that I was going to blog daily. "How long do you think that'll last?" she asked, the impudent thing. "All year," I told her defiantly.
Man, does Ethel know the best way to find that button and push. Her one question may be even more effective than Clare's dare, if that's possible.
Look out people, I'm here to stay.
My co-worker (let's call her Ethel) said she liked seeing me blog more regularly again, and I announced that I was going to blog daily. "How long do you think that'll last?" she asked, the impudent thing. "All year," I told her defiantly.
Man, does Ethel know the best way to find that button and push. Her one question may be even more effective than Clare's dare, if that's possible.
Look out people, I'm here to stay.
The Growing Blog
For those of you who haven't already seen it, this article about the growth of blogs in 2004 is interesting. In particular, I hope to learn more about RSS or XLM aggregators, which is something Julia tried to explain to me even though I couldn't, at the time, wrap my head around it.
Sunday, January 02, 2005
The Challenge
I have been issued a challenge to blog daily. Well, you're on, Clare! This being day two of the new I-will-write-daily year, I'm feeling up to the task.
The BIC (butt-in-chair) writing time at the Applebox today with Julia helped me feel more writerly, as did the blogging I started up again last week. It also helps that I got my running in today. There's a real connection between me exercising and feeling good about myself and being creative.
After the run and writing session, I took the girls to Borders where they blew only some of the gift card money they got from "grandpere" on lots of books and a couple of CDs. I was pleased that we got out of there with no DVDs, since they're not currently watching any movies at all. One of the things I could (in theory) blog about is this no-media for the kids lifestyle we've adopted: why we're doing it, what it means, how it works on a daily basis.
Tonight we played The Simpson's Clue, which my brother and his family had brought over on Monday. (It was conveniently on sale at Borders, so we got our own copy). Fun, and it'll be even more fun when S. can read. I'm hoping we can do more goofy family things like that in the months to come - even when it's not raining!
All for now. Feeling the energy being drained right out of me, which must mean bed time. Work will be challenging tomorrow, anyway - the first day back after a vacation is the day when everyone realizes the servers have crashed, which keeps us very busy.
The BIC (butt-in-chair) writing time at the Applebox today with Julia helped me feel more writerly, as did the blogging I started up again last week. It also helps that I got my running in today. There's a real connection between me exercising and feeling good about myself and being creative.
After the run and writing session, I took the girls to Borders where they blew only some of the gift card money they got from "grandpere" on lots of books and a couple of CDs. I was pleased that we got out of there with no DVDs, since they're not currently watching any movies at all. One of the things I could (in theory) blog about is this no-media for the kids lifestyle we've adopted: why we're doing it, what it means, how it works on a daily basis.
Tonight we played The Simpson's Clue, which my brother and his family had brought over on Monday. (It was conveniently on sale at Borders, so we got our own copy). Fun, and it'll be even more fun when S. can read. I'm hoping we can do more goofy family things like that in the months to come - even when it's not raining!
All for now. Feeling the energy being drained right out of me, which must mean bed time. Work will be challenging tomorrow, anyway - the first day back after a vacation is the day when everyone realizes the servers have crashed, which keeps us very busy.
Saturday, January 01, 2005
New Year's Day
It's New Year's Day. And although I am trying to learn to live in the moment and not the past or future, it's very hard today not to reflect on what I did and did not accomplish or experience last year, and what I hope to do and be in the 12 months ahead.
Here is where I am, now: in a somewhat cluttered "office" at home, writing. The girls are in the kitchen making up stories about giants and sculpting villages for dragons out of clay, and D. is building the kind of aesthetically pleasing million-degree scorching hot fire in our wood-burning stove that only an Eagle Scout can build.
My feet are cold, because I like the lovely idea we've adopted of not wearing shoes in the house, but as much as I exercise regularly, my feet represent a large surface area to warm and my circulation sometimes doesn't manage. But other than that, I'm fine.
How could I not be? I've had 12 hours of sleep and there's nothing pressing that I have to do today. And most importantly, I'm surrounded by a healthy, happy family in a dry home with food in the pantry and all those other countless blessings that are forgotten - until we see so many people in the world suddenly left with nothing. I can't help but remember that this is not a happy new year for millions of the people on this planet. It sobers me, and just like a death in the family can do, it strengthens my resolve to live a meaningful life and not take for granted the many kinds of wealth I've been given, but instead share them, spread them out, connect, and make a difference.
Here is where I am, now: in a somewhat cluttered "office" at home, writing. The girls are in the kitchen making up stories about giants and sculpting villages for dragons out of clay, and D. is building the kind of aesthetically pleasing million-degree scorching hot fire in our wood-burning stove that only an Eagle Scout can build.
My feet are cold, because I like the lovely idea we've adopted of not wearing shoes in the house, but as much as I exercise regularly, my feet represent a large surface area to warm and my circulation sometimes doesn't manage. But other than that, I'm fine.
How could I not be? I've had 12 hours of sleep and there's nothing pressing that I have to do today. And most importantly, I'm surrounded by a healthy, happy family in a dry home with food in the pantry and all those other countless blessings that are forgotten - until we see so many people in the world suddenly left with nothing. I can't help but remember that this is not a happy new year for millions of the people on this planet. It sobers me, and just like a death in the family can do, it strengthens my resolve to live a meaningful life and not take for granted the many kinds of wealth I've been given, but instead share them, spread them out, connect, and make a difference.
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