It's Memorial Day again. As a central Pennsylvania girl long before I moved to central Pennsylvania, Memorial Day in Boalsburg is full of history.
This is how we celebrate it now: my little family joins my mother, father and brother in a trek through the cemetery in Boalsburg putting flowers on the graves of dead relatives. It involves getting along with those people for at least an hour. It involves telling my daughters stories of the relatives. Probably the same stories each year, but since I doubt they are really listening the stories seem fresh.
How we used to celebrate was certainly different. When the great aunts and uncles, now the beneficiaries of the flowers, were alive the cemetery visit was an amazing adventure. We'd meet at Anna Nanna's (it was years before I found out her name was really Aunt Anna Mary) sweet little house with the gorgeous garden. Someone had visited a florist for the beginnings of the arrangements, but so many of the flowers came from Anna Nanna's garden. Columbines are forever a symbol of this day for me and always make me think of her. I'm sure my help was less than helpful, so I'd wander about to check out the sheep and their little backyard surrounded by trees and covered in succulent grass. In any case, what seemed like hundreds of people put together these fabulous arrangements- the floral containers stored in their garage just for this day, as far as I know. I don't remember how we got the flowers and the people across Atherton to the cemetery, but we did. Wow, what a big deal to get just the right flowers to the right relative. In those days, I probably hadn't even known any of the people. The list was long. I probably whined and was in a hurry, but I don't remember it as being tedious.
Aunt Anna Mary and Uncle Fred were so interesting. They were childless, so their house was probably a nightmare for my mother when my brother and I were young. I remember Anna Nanna as a sweet, little old lady who always wore classic clothing and school marm tie up pumps. She had this sweet lady voice, but really was tough as could be. She had a foot pump organ which she eventually allowed my brother and I to play. She had a gorgeous braided rug that I seem to remember she let me help mend on occasion. Uncle Fred was interesting. He was pretty crotchedy and a wealth of bad language by the time I knew him. I just talked to someone the other day who'd interviewed him years ago. He was a famous guy in his day. In my day, he was a bald guy with good stories.
I remember one time at Anna Nanna's when her younger sister, the bold one, was visiting and she and I laid out in the back yard in our bras and underwear. (I may actually not have been a bra wearer at the time.) Aunt Ginny was absolutely my favorite. She was all things cool and sophisticated. She had gorgeous silver hair and always wore fabulous silver jewelry (definitely my role model for loving silver jewelry) and she knew just the right colors to wear to be gorgeous. Aunt Ginny and Uncle Dave lived in Pennington, New Jersey for many years. We'd go visit them every year, stay in their adorable house and go to the Jersey shore for a day trip. Aunt Ginny loved Fiestaware- which I still love. Uncle Dave was a jigsaw puzzle man. We always did puzzles on that trip. It was awesome when Aunt Ginny and Uncle Dave moved to Boalsburg! They were so much closer. I loved visiting them more frequently!
No Memorial Day retrospective is complete without mentioning Aunt Fern and Uncle Bob. They had a sweet little house next to the park. For years and years, I'd walk past their house with the wisteria tree and think of them. (The tree is gone now.) Aunt Fern was in charge of the annual soup and bread sale in downtown Boalsburg for as many years as I can remember. This soup thing happens to this day. We don't usually catch that event any more. It was on the agenda for many, many years- even after she was gone. Something about many people's vegetable combined into one and bread slathered in butter is a real treat after the decorating of the graves. I don't remember much about Uncle Bob and Aunt Fern- they were pretty quiet. Their only child was run over by a car when she was 16, perhaps that's why they seemed so quiet.
Boalsburg was a big part of my childhood, even though I didn't live near back then. The great aunts and uncles, the tribute to Memorial Day, the craft booths, the family gatherings, the canons booming, the military museum all were a huge part of my family experience. Then I got married and moved to Maryland and coming to Boalsburg for Memorial Day seemed too much of an ordeal, so we didn't. Unfortunately, by the time we moved back to Pennsylvania, all these wonderful relatives were permanent residents of the cemetery.
So now, I bring my daughters to put flowers on the graves of the people I knew and loved who never knew my babies. Rebecca asked me today at each grave if that person knew I had children. The answer was always no. So I told her little stories of each one. The flowers are not so much for the dead, but for the living aren't they?
This event was made all the more poignant by the discovery of the saddest tombstone of all. It's actually a beautiful tombstone- dark stone, with a pretty beach scene etched on the right and a coastline with houses on the left side. A very peaceful tombstone. The name etched so distinctly in the stone and in our hearts- visible from far away. This grave site- too new to be covered with grass- is now covered in beautiful flower petals. Rebecca and I stood there crying as we pulled the petals to decorate the grave of her beloved gym teacher who was much, much too young to leave this world.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
alpha and omega
I have two favorite times of year: the beginning of everything and the end of everything. Why is that? I love the excitement of new activities. The thrill of making the schedule work. The joy of going from the somewhat uncluttered, unstructured summer to the carefully orchestrated schedule of fall. But yet, equally exciting to me is the culmination of the chaos as one by one the school year activities wrap up. I love having my Tuesdays full of church friends and kids, but I also love having my Tuesdays uncluttered with responsibility. I love the excitement of classes beginning, but I love the relief of having all the work done, the stress relieved. I love the thrill of the beginning of rehearsals for the middle school musical and the utter chaos entailed by tech week and performances. But I also love watching my child, one of many, shine on the stage and then having the experience be over. Finite. I love the joy of nagging and fretting about getting the younger spawn to choir rehearsals, easily forgotten on a Thursday morning (that might be sarcasm). But I also love watching the final choir concert where she belts out her favorite songs regardless of those around her. Still to come.. two band concerts, an older spawn choir concert, a piano recital. That's ok. They are soon and will be incredible (or at least amusing- I guarantee that Katie beating a bass drum and plucking a string bass will be mighty hilarious.) The older spawn, in spite of her whining about the practicing, positively sparkles on stage.
It's not just the kids who have beginnings and endings. As I said, I just finished a class at Penn State- difficult but also enjoyable and worthwhile. The culmination there was a paper and a presentation. The presentation I really could have done without. Really. So, now Monday nights are free. This is also a beginning, however. Today I took the GRE for the first time ever. I was nervous, panicked even. I finally convinced myself that I could live with my results because I could always fork over the mula to take it again. Well, not positive, but I think I may not have to take it again. This is big for me. This means I actually have to finish my application to grad school- a new beginning. I have closed my eyes and leaped!! I have no limits! (I'm paraphrasing "Defying Gravity" here.) It doesn't matter that I'm old as dirt- probably too old for a career change- or that I'm not entirely sure I want to switch from the cushy job I currently have (which is possibly there for me next year, possibly not). What matters is that I'm embracing a new beginning. Yes, I've already taken 3 classes for the Masters. So it's really not a beginning. Still, I have to finish an application, put my fate in the hands of someone else who might decide that I'm not right for the program. I'm willing to take that chance. If I can conquer (to a point) a big, scary test, I can finish an application.
That's not all I have by way of beginnings and endings. New beginnings: I was asked to help backstage at the first production of the local summer theater. How cool is that? I had great fun helping backstage last summer at the musical of the season, "Hello Dolly". It was fun! I fully expect to help again this summer during the show that a friend's daughter has been cast in. I love being asked to do something! Who doesn't like to be needed and wanted? Other new beginnings involve summer and the relaxed chaos that brings. I'm teaching more summer camps than ever before. Pretty terrifying, but equally exciting- or would be if I had a clue what I was doing. Endings? Yes, I have endings. I'm done worrying about something I have fixed as well as I can. I'm done beating myself up for making a bad decision. I'm not perfect, but I am dreadfully sorry. That's the end. No more tears, recriminations, wishes. Life is too short to be sorry for what cannot be fixed. I kissed the boo boo and now we move on.
"Some things I cannot change, but till I try I'll never know." Change is a beginning... but it's also an ending. Either way, the spawn and I get to belt along with YouTube.
It's not just the kids who have beginnings and endings. As I said, I just finished a class at Penn State- difficult but also enjoyable and worthwhile. The culmination there was a paper and a presentation. The presentation I really could have done without. Really. So, now Monday nights are free. This is also a beginning, however. Today I took the GRE for the first time ever. I was nervous, panicked even. I finally convinced myself that I could live with my results because I could always fork over the mula to take it again. Well, not positive, but I think I may not have to take it again. This is big for me. This means I actually have to finish my application to grad school- a new beginning. I have closed my eyes and leaped!! I have no limits! (I'm paraphrasing "Defying Gravity" here.) It doesn't matter that I'm old as dirt- probably too old for a career change- or that I'm not entirely sure I want to switch from the cushy job I currently have (which is possibly there for me next year, possibly not). What matters is that I'm embracing a new beginning. Yes, I've already taken 3 classes for the Masters. So it's really not a beginning. Still, I have to finish an application, put my fate in the hands of someone else who might decide that I'm not right for the program. I'm willing to take that chance. If I can conquer (to a point) a big, scary test, I can finish an application.
That's not all I have by way of beginnings and endings. New beginnings: I was asked to help backstage at the first production of the local summer theater. How cool is that? I had great fun helping backstage last summer at the musical of the season, "Hello Dolly". It was fun! I fully expect to help again this summer during the show that a friend's daughter has been cast in. I love being asked to do something! Who doesn't like to be needed and wanted? Other new beginnings involve summer and the relaxed chaos that brings. I'm teaching more summer camps than ever before. Pretty terrifying, but equally exciting- or would be if I had a clue what I was doing. Endings? Yes, I have endings. I'm done worrying about something I have fixed as well as I can. I'm done beating myself up for making a bad decision. I'm not perfect, but I am dreadfully sorry. That's the end. No more tears, recriminations, wishes. Life is too short to be sorry for what cannot be fixed. I kissed the boo boo and now we move on.
"Some things I cannot change, but till I try I'll never know." Change is a beginning... but it's also an ending. Either way, the spawn and I get to belt along with YouTube.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
baseball, hotdogs, apple pie and Chevrolet
Spring is just about here. (I'm trying to be realistic just in case there's another freak blizzard.) A young girl's fancy turns to... baseball? This has been going through my head all day. Clearly, I'm not young and you've probably never heard me mention baseball before. Not only that, it's probably softball anyhow.
For some reason the baseball mitts and balls have appeared in my living room. I'm not sure why the spawn have brought these out, where they found them, what they are doing with them, or why I still hope they will eventually put them away somewhere more sensible. In any case, there this items sit. Calling to me. Making me think random thoughts of games with bats, balls, and mitts.
A couple times a summer I may feel inclined to put on a mitt and play some catch. I may throw like a girl, but I like to throw hard. If there's no smoke coming out of the mitt, there's no point. If I can move my shoulder the next day, we didn't play long enough. The kids are afraid of me. (Might have something to do with my aim.) Hubby occasionally will play- let's be serious, he'll do whatever I ask him to do. He's that kind of accommodating. However, when we play, I can still feel my hand at the end. Not hard enough. Still... a bit diverting.
I got to thinking about my youth (this is where the young girl part comes in.) I grew up on a cul de sac, next door to the boy who was 7 days younger than me, but a year ahead of me in school, and up the street from a nice Irish boy. (It is St. Patrick's Day, after all. Had to mention that.) The three of us used to play this game (that I can't remember the name of) in the "circle". One person batted the ball, the other two fielded, then the batter laid down the bat, and the catcher rolled the ball to hit the bat. Great game! We had another game we played in the backyard. This one I do remember the name of- Rundown! There were two people playing catch and the third in the middle trying not to get tagged. I'm certain that I got caught a lot. I don't remember that, but I certainly do remember the fun.
Regarding baseball teams... of course I'm a Pirates fan. Alas, the same kind of Pirates fan as I am a Steelers fan. So when they are in the Playoffs, I'm watching. (not holding my breath) Now, back in the day, oh yea. I watched the Pirates. The day being when Chuck Tanner was coach. Dave Parker was a wild man. Willie Stargell was a gentleman. How could I not watch the Pirates? My dad hogged the TV, so that's what I had to watch. It's more painful to watch TV with my dad these days. He's a fanatical clicker. We get 10 minutes of baseball, 7 minutes of John Wayne, 8 minutes of Dirty Jobs. Makes my head spin. There's always something better to do at my house, so I don't even know which channel they broadcast the Pirates. I will find out if the World Series is a possibility.
My parents live in Altoona now, so they've taken us to see the Curve about once a year. Us being the girls, hubby and I. My mom is disinclined. The girls are way more interested in wandering about than in watching baseball. We did have fun watching the silly games and their mascot. Why can't I remember what the Curve mascot is? Something vaguely Grimace-ish. We stopped going to the Curve when the Spikes came to State College. I will say the Curve was more fun.
The first Spikes game we went to was for hubby's work party. We had a buffet and seats practically outside of the outfield. Not a lot of action out there. Trust me. I will tell you that one of the Spike outfielders of that season was a lying, cheating scumbag. He "fielded" a pop fly and raised his mitt in glory. No one knew any differently. No one in authority anyhow. We observant ones who were sitting beyond the outfield absolutely saw that ball hit the ground before his mitt. Yessirree, Bob. Lying, cheating, scumbag. It was a year or two before I permitted us to attend another game. The next game we sat in the real seats, near the food (and possibly there was a beer as well), where we didn't have to observe the action in the outfield. Instead we watched Ike the Spike do lascivious things with old ladies and the Nookie (what the heck kind of name is that?) dance for homeruns. Much more entertaining.
Hotdogs. I have to feed the only children on the planet who won't eat hotdogs. or macaroni and cheese.
Apple pie. Hubby makes the best apple pie in the world. That's all I have to say about that. Except that there was talk of pie recently.
Chevrolet. I learned to drive in a Chevy Citation. What a cute car. I loved that car. I will admit to being an idiot in the car many times. There was this great hill that was really not on my way to anywhere. But still I drove to the street just to go down that hill. If you were going fast enough when you hit the top of the hill the tires left the pavement. Roller coaster, baby! One time I was driving with some major appliance in the back (not actually an odd occurrence in my youth), and cruised that hill. The box hit the roof. I'm probably lucky it didn't go through the roof. And once there was a mound of dirt in the parking lot of the church. Yup, I had to go over it. My dad wondered a bit how the tail pipe got bent and why there was dirt in it. I suspect he knew who the culprit was. I may have admitted it. On the other hand, I may not.
One more thing. Three Rivers Stadium. I may never have been inside (which is debatable), but I was sad to see it go. It was representative of the goodness of youth, when Pittsburgh was home and the home team was black and gold.
For some reason the baseball mitts and balls have appeared in my living room. I'm not sure why the spawn have brought these out, where they found them, what they are doing with them, or why I still hope they will eventually put them away somewhere more sensible. In any case, there this items sit. Calling to me. Making me think random thoughts of games with bats, balls, and mitts.
A couple times a summer I may feel inclined to put on a mitt and play some catch. I may throw like a girl, but I like to throw hard. If there's no smoke coming out of the mitt, there's no point. If I can move my shoulder the next day, we didn't play long enough. The kids are afraid of me. (Might have something to do with my aim.) Hubby occasionally will play- let's be serious, he'll do whatever I ask him to do. He's that kind of accommodating. However, when we play, I can still feel my hand at the end. Not hard enough. Still... a bit diverting.
I got to thinking about my youth (this is where the young girl part comes in.) I grew up on a cul de sac, next door to the boy who was 7 days younger than me, but a year ahead of me in school, and up the street from a nice Irish boy. (It is St. Patrick's Day, after all. Had to mention that.) The three of us used to play this game (that I can't remember the name of) in the "circle". One person batted the ball, the other two fielded, then the batter laid down the bat, and the catcher rolled the ball to hit the bat. Great game! We had another game we played in the backyard. This one I do remember the name of- Rundown! There were two people playing catch and the third in the middle trying not to get tagged. I'm certain that I got caught a lot. I don't remember that, but I certainly do remember the fun.
Regarding baseball teams... of course I'm a Pirates fan. Alas, the same kind of Pirates fan as I am a Steelers fan. So when they are in the Playoffs, I'm watching. (not holding my breath) Now, back in the day, oh yea. I watched the Pirates. The day being when Chuck Tanner was coach. Dave Parker was a wild man. Willie Stargell was a gentleman. How could I not watch the Pirates? My dad hogged the TV, so that's what I had to watch. It's more painful to watch TV with my dad these days. He's a fanatical clicker. We get 10 minutes of baseball, 7 minutes of John Wayne, 8 minutes of Dirty Jobs. Makes my head spin. There's always something better to do at my house, so I don't even know which channel they broadcast the Pirates. I will find out if the World Series is a possibility.
My parents live in Altoona now, so they've taken us to see the Curve about once a year. Us being the girls, hubby and I. My mom is disinclined. The girls are way more interested in wandering about than in watching baseball. We did have fun watching the silly games and their mascot. Why can't I remember what the Curve mascot is? Something vaguely Grimace-ish. We stopped going to the Curve when the Spikes came to State College. I will say the Curve was more fun.
The first Spikes game we went to was for hubby's work party. We had a buffet and seats practically outside of the outfield. Not a lot of action out there. Trust me. I will tell you that one of the Spike outfielders of that season was a lying, cheating scumbag. He "fielded" a pop fly and raised his mitt in glory. No one knew any differently. No one in authority anyhow. We observant ones who were sitting beyond the outfield absolutely saw that ball hit the ground before his mitt. Yessirree, Bob. Lying, cheating, scumbag. It was a year or two before I permitted us to attend another game. The next game we sat in the real seats, near the food (and possibly there was a beer as well), where we didn't have to observe the action in the outfield. Instead we watched Ike the Spike do lascivious things with old ladies and the Nookie (what the heck kind of name is that?) dance for homeruns. Much more entertaining.
Hotdogs. I have to feed the only children on the planet who won't eat hotdogs. or macaroni and cheese.
Apple pie. Hubby makes the best apple pie in the world. That's all I have to say about that. Except that there was talk of pie recently.
Chevrolet. I learned to drive in a Chevy Citation. What a cute car. I loved that car. I will admit to being an idiot in the car many times. There was this great hill that was really not on my way to anywhere. But still I drove to the street just to go down that hill. If you were going fast enough when you hit the top of the hill the tires left the pavement. Roller coaster, baby! One time I was driving with some major appliance in the back (not actually an odd occurrence in my youth), and cruised that hill. The box hit the roof. I'm probably lucky it didn't go through the roof. And once there was a mound of dirt in the parking lot of the church. Yup, I had to go over it. My dad wondered a bit how the tail pipe got bent and why there was dirt in it. I suspect he knew who the culprit was. I may have admitted it. On the other hand, I may not.
One more thing. Three Rivers Stadium. I may never have been inside (which is debatable), but I was sad to see it go. It was representative of the goodness of youth, when Pittsburgh was home and the home team was black and gold.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
going on an adventure
"Adventure brings excitement, creative flow, and energy, and these are essential to you. Yours is a highly artistic nature. Continual stimulation is required to keep your psyche healthy. Experience something new today. Even if it's just a walk to a place you've never been, it will give you the adrenaline you need." a recent horoscope for me, the epitome of a Sagitarius.
Yup, I'm one of those dorks who likes reading my horoscope. Sometimes because it is just so wrong. Sometimes because it is just so right.
This one caught my attention for the right part. I've been a little bored lately. I do crave adventure and newness. Not the bungee jumping kind of adventure- I'm way too boring and restrained (and chicken) for that. I do seem to live my life to say the words, "what the hell was I thinking?" Sometimes it's helping backstage at a local theater show when I'm teaching summer camps every day. (which is in itself in the WTHWIT category). Sometimes it's volunteering to cut hundreds of fringes for kids to tie pillows to give to hospital patients. Sometimes it's taking classes at Penn State or taking up water colors or learning to play the oboe (or more recently clarinet) or Irish Step dancing or playing a piano duet at a recital or dying my hair orange (supposed to be blond, but it was orange). I seem to crave putting myself out on a limb with the potential for huge embarrassment. So right now I'm lacking in the potential for huge embarrassment department. For some reason this makes me a little sad.
It also makes me think (something that I don't generally like to do.) Do I really need to put myself out there to have adventure? Heck, no. My little life is loaded with adventure. My two daughters are an adventure every day. This morning we had the drama of auditions for that local theater. This involved wailing. If these two could put as much emotion on the stage, I could be a Broadway mother. Oh, and let it be known, I was right. Spawn #1 had a good time. My job? An adventure every day too. I'm in constant motion doing who knows what every second of the day. Our classroom motto is "be flexible". The kids are always laughing at me- whether I'm calling them by the wrong names (some days I just call everyone "Fred") or saying some nonsensical word like "hooziedink" (their favorite). One day my little buddy, who's always happy to let me know when I'm being goofy, said he was "having a Mrs. Koch moment." Meaning that he was either forgetful or unfocused or silly or all of the above. I had to laugh at that. The college thing is not so much a whim anymore. It looks like I'm actually going to pursue that advanced degree. Who knew I would finally do that? Not me. For sure an adventure. Taking classes with 20somethings who share their interesting weekend stories while the prof is in the room is a thrill.
This is the part of the blog where I have inserted random quotes about adventuring.
“Remember what Bilbo used to say: It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.” — Tolkien
So sometime take a walk and see where you end up. It may be a walk past that fabulous house that you'd love to live in someday. It may be the convenience store to buy a bag of contraband chips. It may be through the woods or up a mountain or on the beach (if you're lucky). It may not even be a walk. Ignore the price of gas and take a wrong turn and keep on going. You may drive past a llama farm or a gorgeous sun-dappled view. Take a trip with your family (an adventure all of its own), get lost of course, tell stories, sing songs, fight with each other. I may suggest you don't drive over a curb and trash your car on the way to the beach or leave the hot dogs on the kitchen counter on your way to the campsite. (I may also suggest that you don't travel with my family.)
“Only those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go.” — T.S Eliot
What do you lose by trying something a little far out? Maybe some sleep. Maybe a little bit of your self-respect for a little while. But, all in all, the trying will probably get you a lot more than you lose. Maybe not in the way you might think, but wisdom is also part of the adventure.
“Adventure isn’t hanging on a rope off the side of a mountain. Adventure is an attitude that we must apply to the day to day obstacles of life.” — John Amatt
Who the heck is John Amatt anyway? Whoever he is, he is absolutely right. Life is the adventure. There's no direct path from here to there. There's more than one way to choose. Keep adventure in your heart and be prepared to find yourself unprepared, untrained, and surprised.
“ if you’re alive, you’ve got to flap your arms and legs, you’ve got to jump around a lot, you’ve got to make a lot of noise, because life is the very opposite of death.” — Mel Brooks
Do not be well-behaved. Make a scene in public. Dance in your living room with your spawn. The adventure of life is not a quiet thing. Life is loud and wiggly. (just like my kids)
Bored, schmored. I have no reason or right to be bored. There are books to read, songs to sing, places to go, and people to meet. I just need to decide which adventure to have today.
Yup, I'm one of those dorks who likes reading my horoscope. Sometimes because it is just so wrong. Sometimes because it is just so right.
This one caught my attention for the right part. I've been a little bored lately. I do crave adventure and newness. Not the bungee jumping kind of adventure- I'm way too boring and restrained (and chicken) for that. I do seem to live my life to say the words, "what the hell was I thinking?" Sometimes it's helping backstage at a local theater show when I'm teaching summer camps every day. (which is in itself in the WTHWIT category). Sometimes it's volunteering to cut hundreds of fringes for kids to tie pillows to give to hospital patients. Sometimes it's taking classes at Penn State or taking up water colors or learning to play the oboe (or more recently clarinet) or Irish Step dancing or playing a piano duet at a recital or dying my hair orange (supposed to be blond, but it was orange). I seem to crave putting myself out on a limb with the potential for huge embarrassment. So right now I'm lacking in the potential for huge embarrassment department. For some reason this makes me a little sad.
It also makes me think (something that I don't generally like to do.) Do I really need to put myself out there to have adventure? Heck, no. My little life is loaded with adventure. My two daughters are an adventure every day. This morning we had the drama of auditions for that local theater. This involved wailing. If these two could put as much emotion on the stage, I could be a Broadway mother. Oh, and let it be known, I was right. Spawn #1 had a good time. My job? An adventure every day too. I'm in constant motion doing who knows what every second of the day. Our classroom motto is "be flexible". The kids are always laughing at me- whether I'm calling them by the wrong names (some days I just call everyone "Fred") or saying some nonsensical word like "hooziedink" (their favorite). One day my little buddy, who's always happy to let me know when I'm being goofy, said he was "having a Mrs. Koch moment." Meaning that he was either forgetful or unfocused or silly or all of the above. I had to laugh at that. The college thing is not so much a whim anymore. It looks like I'm actually going to pursue that advanced degree. Who knew I would finally do that? Not me. For sure an adventure. Taking classes with 20somethings who share their interesting weekend stories while the prof is in the room is a thrill.
This is the part of the blog where I have inserted random quotes about adventuring.
“Remember what Bilbo used to say: It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.” — Tolkien
So sometime take a walk and see where you end up. It may be a walk past that fabulous house that you'd love to live in someday. It may be the convenience store to buy a bag of contraband chips. It may be through the woods or up a mountain or on the beach (if you're lucky). It may not even be a walk. Ignore the price of gas and take a wrong turn and keep on going. You may drive past a llama farm or a gorgeous sun-dappled view. Take a trip with your family (an adventure all of its own), get lost of course, tell stories, sing songs, fight with each other. I may suggest you don't drive over a curb and trash your car on the way to the beach or leave the hot dogs on the kitchen counter on your way to the campsite. (I may also suggest that you don't travel with my family.)
What do you lose by trying something a little far out? Maybe some sleep. Maybe a little bit of your self-respect for a little while. But, all in all, the trying will probably get you a lot more than you lose. Maybe not in the way you might think, but wisdom is also part of the adventure.
“Adventure isn’t hanging on a rope off the side of a mountain. Adventure is an attitude that we must apply to the day to day obstacles of life.” — John Amatt
Who the heck is John Amatt anyway? Whoever he is, he is absolutely right. Life is the adventure. There's no direct path from here to there. There's more than one way to choose. Keep adventure in your heart and be prepared to find yourself unprepared, untrained, and surprised.
“ if you’re alive, you’ve got to flap your arms and legs, you’ve got to jump around a lot, you’ve got to make a lot of noise, because life is the very opposite of death.” — Mel Brooks
Do not be well-behaved. Make a scene in public. Dance in your living room with your spawn. The adventure of life is not a quiet thing. Life is loud and wiggly. (just like my kids)
Bored, schmored. I have no reason or right to be bored. There are books to read, songs to sing, places to go, and people to meet. I just need to decide which adventure to have today.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
empty chairs
As I stare out in the back yard I see my little fire pit enclave- a stone fire pit with an adirondack chair and an odd wooden couch with no cushions. Everything was covered with a few inches of snow, up until today when the ice storm condensed the snow into a shiny, but less pretty mess of destitution. I saw these empty chairs combined with the throes of a cold winter and the seating reflected my mood. But this vision, this seeming reality, led me to think of another pair of empty chairs. A very talented photographer friend of mine took a picture of two chairs perched together for conversation in the midst of a flowerbed of what we technically called "blue flowers." The first time I saw this photograph I fell in love with it. These two chairs, although empty, are filled with promise. The promise of another spring. The promise of fulfilling their purpose of conversation. A copy of this photograph will soon be mine to enjoy every day. (I couldn't be more thrilled that this friend accepted an exchange of her photograph for a pair of handcrocheted mittens- fun to make, more fun to someday see warming her fingers.) Envisioning the promise of those chairs made me think and rethink about empty chairs.
I think of my favorite chair, which we call my "office". This ridiculous chair, very comfy, purchased for $3 at Centre Peace resale shop on a complete whim, is a scene of comfort in my house. This chair in which I can find a hundred ways to sit comfortably while reading, crocheting, sometimes napping. This chair the location of many conversations with the children. There have been numerous times when I would say to a crying Katie girl, "Do you want to come into my office?" She sits on my lap (sometimes even still and quiet), as we negotiate through the drama of her life. An office conversation never fails to end with a hug and a laugh.
I think on the funny little love seat I insisted we pick up off the street. Yes, I'm somewhat ashamed to say we are notorious furniture scroungers. This happens when you have 2 messy kids and 3 cats with claws. We learned the hard way that there is no point in buying nice furniture. This love seat currently is not empty- holding the bellowing child who wants me to be there with her instead of blogging. However, when it is empty I can think of many times when it is not. The times when we watch a family movie. We've tried to have all four of us sit on this little couch. If anyone could sit still, this might work- it's a tight fit, but doable. I can think on nights after the kids are asleep (getting rarer with that teenager who stays up too late), when the man and I can share a moment of quiet closeness or watch tv together. We have to be close, not only because it's a small couch, but also because the cushions lean in to the middle. Then I can remember a gathering of friends where somehow we had 10 people draped and gathered on this funny little couch and somehow we still looked comfortable.
That little fire pit arrangement in the back yard doesn't represent destitution at all. The chairs may be empty now (and I sort of think I might go sit in the rain today), but they hold the promise of future fullness and memories of the past. Those empty chairs hold memories of a chilly October evening when friends sat around that fire enjoying conversation and laughter. Those empty chairs hold memories of my daughter Katie and I huddled in blankets as I read (with too little light) aloud Harry Potter. Those empty chairs hold the memory that my handy hubby created that fire pit because I said I'd like one and helped me drag those chairs around it. So. An empty chair is simply a chair that is not currently physically occupied- but there is plenty in it.
I think of my favorite chair, which we call my "office". This ridiculous chair, very comfy, purchased for $3 at Centre Peace resale shop on a complete whim, is a scene of comfort in my house. This chair in which I can find a hundred ways to sit comfortably while reading, crocheting, sometimes napping. This chair the location of many conversations with the children. There have been numerous times when I would say to a crying Katie girl, "Do you want to come into my office?" She sits on my lap (sometimes even still and quiet), as we negotiate through the drama of her life. An office conversation never fails to end with a hug and a laugh.
I think on the funny little love seat I insisted we pick up off the street. Yes, I'm somewhat ashamed to say we are notorious furniture scroungers. This happens when you have 2 messy kids and 3 cats with claws. We learned the hard way that there is no point in buying nice furniture. This love seat currently is not empty- holding the bellowing child who wants me to be there with her instead of blogging. However, when it is empty I can think of many times when it is not. The times when we watch a family movie. We've tried to have all four of us sit on this little couch. If anyone could sit still, this might work- it's a tight fit, but doable. I can think on nights after the kids are asleep (getting rarer with that teenager who stays up too late), when the man and I can share a moment of quiet closeness or watch tv together. We have to be close, not only because it's a small couch, but also because the cushions lean in to the middle. Then I can remember a gathering of friends where somehow we had 10 people draped and gathered on this funny little couch and somehow we still looked comfortable.
That little fire pit arrangement in the back yard doesn't represent destitution at all. The chairs may be empty now (and I sort of think I might go sit in the rain today), but they hold the promise of future fullness and memories of the past. Those empty chairs hold memories of a chilly October evening when friends sat around that fire enjoying conversation and laughter. Those empty chairs hold memories of my daughter Katie and I huddled in blankets as I read (with too little light) aloud Harry Potter. Those empty chairs hold the memory that my handy hubby created that fire pit because I said I'd like one and helped me drag those chairs around it. So. An empty chair is simply a chair that is not currently physically occupied- but there is plenty in it.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Life in Space
"When in doubt, blow something up." - J. Michael Stracynski
This quote was at the top of one of the chapters of a very entertaining book I just finished reading. A fun, escapist novel about four author friends who end up writing together a novel about four author friends. Clearly this is the kind of friendship we all crave. The kinds of friends who would drop everything to help one of their own who is at the bottom of a pit of despair. However, each of the friends has a secret, which comes out when their bestseller, written under only one name, gets analyzed on an Oprah-like talk show. Chaos ensues, the friendships falter, lawsuits out the kazoo. Then we get the happy ending that I generally require from my reading material: friendships are saved, marriages are saved, contracts are saved, new relationships bloom where appropriate. Happily ever after.
Then there's real life, where breaking a contract is wrong, secrets are damaging, and friendships can't withstand everything they are put through. This is where the blowing up quote fits in. In the immortal words of Kaylee, "Sometimes a thing gets broke can't be fixed." Surprisingly enough, it's kind of a relief knowing that. In the show, of course, they will all die if they can't replace that part. So that's not the relief. But knowing that particular item is lost to them forever, means they waste no time on trying to fix it, but concentrate instead on finding a replacement part. Not that I'm looking for replacement parts right now, but I know the "catalyzer" is gone forever.
Kosh said, "Understanding is a three-edged sword." The two points of view and the truth in between. The truth is out there. Oh, wait, not my sci-fi show. Truth is sharp. Sometimes the truth severs, but sometimes the truth leaves a clean line that can be stitched and eventually healed. Serenity, the vessel of my life, is getting some renovations. My own Cap'n Tightpants/Wash (we all know he's the funny one) is a rock solid driver. My crew is getting a little more personal attention. We're sometimes out in the black on our own. But at least now we're not headed to a black hole. "Brilliant plan, I'm sure we'll all be saved."
Life lessons from space shows: When you are sailing your spaceship into the dark, you'd best be keeping your eyes wide open and consulting star charts. Sometimes your destination is a nice planet. Sometimes it's a place like Z'hadum. You have to decide if the potential for doom is worth the trip. It probably isn't. River Tam regarding cows in a spaceship, "They weren't cows inside. They were waiting to be, but they forgot. Now they see the sky and they remember what they are." Let nothing get in the way of remembering who you are or who you want to be. Shepherd Book said, "You're going to burn in a very special level of hell. A level they reserve for child molesters and people who talk at the theater." Well, frankly, that has nothing to do with this, I just like the quote. G'Kar claims, "No one here is exactly what he appears." We all have layers. Some are good, some are not. Pay attention to your dealings with others: do your best to show your true self, but be aware that you might be hiding something. And the other person? Also a human with feelings, faults, hidden layers. Another G'Kar quote: "I'm delirious with joy. It proves that if you confront the universe with good intentions in your heart, it will reflect that and reward your intent. Usually. It just doesn't always do it in the way you expect." Gives me hope for a future of better decisions and the awareness that the path is never clear.
Many thanks to: Babylon 5, Firefly and The Accidental Bestseller by Wendy Wax.
This quote was at the top of one of the chapters of a very entertaining book I just finished reading. A fun, escapist novel about four author friends who end up writing together a novel about four author friends. Clearly this is the kind of friendship we all crave. The kinds of friends who would drop everything to help one of their own who is at the bottom of a pit of despair. However, each of the friends has a secret, which comes out when their bestseller, written under only one name, gets analyzed on an Oprah-like talk show. Chaos ensues, the friendships falter, lawsuits out the kazoo. Then we get the happy ending that I generally require from my reading material: friendships are saved, marriages are saved, contracts are saved, new relationships bloom where appropriate. Happily ever after.
Then there's real life, where breaking a contract is wrong, secrets are damaging, and friendships can't withstand everything they are put through. This is where the blowing up quote fits in. In the immortal words of Kaylee, "Sometimes a thing gets broke can't be fixed." Surprisingly enough, it's kind of a relief knowing that. In the show, of course, they will all die if they can't replace that part. So that's not the relief. But knowing that particular item is lost to them forever, means they waste no time on trying to fix it, but concentrate instead on finding a replacement part. Not that I'm looking for replacement parts right now, but I know the "catalyzer" is gone forever.
Kosh said, "Understanding is a three-edged sword." The two points of view and the truth in between. The truth is out there. Oh, wait, not my sci-fi show. Truth is sharp. Sometimes the truth severs, but sometimes the truth leaves a clean line that can be stitched and eventually healed. Serenity, the vessel of my life, is getting some renovations. My own Cap'n Tightpants/Wash (we all know he's the funny one) is a rock solid driver. My crew is getting a little more personal attention. We're sometimes out in the black on our own. But at least now we're not headed to a black hole. "Brilliant plan, I'm sure we'll all be saved."
Life lessons from space shows: When you are sailing your spaceship into the dark, you'd best be keeping your eyes wide open and consulting star charts. Sometimes your destination is a nice planet. Sometimes it's a place like Z'hadum. You have to decide if the potential for doom is worth the trip. It probably isn't. River Tam regarding cows in a spaceship, "They weren't cows inside. They were waiting to be, but they forgot. Now they see the sky and they remember what they are." Let nothing get in the way of remembering who you are or who you want to be. Shepherd Book said, "You're going to burn in a very special level of hell. A level they reserve for child molesters and people who talk at the theater." Well, frankly, that has nothing to do with this, I just like the quote. G'Kar claims, "No one here is exactly what he appears." We all have layers. Some are good, some are not. Pay attention to your dealings with others: do your best to show your true self, but be aware that you might be hiding something. And the other person? Also a human with feelings, faults, hidden layers. Another G'Kar quote: "I'm delirious with joy. It proves that if you confront the universe with good intentions in your heart, it will reflect that and reward your intent. Usually. It just doesn't always do it in the way you expect." Gives me hope for a future of better decisions and the awareness that the path is never clear.
Many thanks to: Babylon 5, Firefly and The Accidental Bestseller by Wendy Wax.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
resolution about resolutions
New Year's Resolutions. I'm the queen of making them- usually the queen of breaking them within a week. Those were the resolutions that are BORING: lose weight, get healthier, exercise, be more patient. Ick. Resolutions used to be about following rules.
Last year I made a different kind of resolution: play. This was a good resolution for me. I needed more fun in my life- I was bored, dissatisfied, unhappy. I was quite successful with this resolution. I had a great year. I made new friends, tried new things, played Rock Band on the Wii, took a girl time weekend, went to parties, played games with my kids, reconnected with the spouse, got happy. And being happy and playful spilled over into everything else. I smiled more and laughed often. I began enjoying again the things I used to love. I made scenes with my family (usually in the living room, but not always). I even had a good time working.
I started writing. I took two classes (still contemplating grad school) both of which required writing- even that was fun for me. I started this blog just because I knew you wanted to know my everything little thought. I found other writing outlets. I've wanted to write children's books for most of my adult life and just never took that plunge. I still haven't, but I still might. In any case, I've discovered this is not the only option for me. You never know, I may actually write a book someday. As readers of my blog (suckers), you are entitled to signed first editions.
I rediscovered my family as a source of amusement. They are funny. Hardly a day goes by when something doesn't come up that is wildly hilarious. And I laugh. I don't hide it. I guarantee you that the ability to laugh at one's (self and) family makes the rough times much more bearable. Often, in fact, a rough spot can be patched nicely with a little laughter. This is especially true with my volatile pre-preteen. With a little strategically placed giggle, I can turn her colossal fit of temper into a colossal fit of laughter. You know, of course, that the older spawn and I can guffaw uncontrollably together. They think I'm a bit wacky and perhaps "inappropriate"- Rebecca's word. Wacky is good.
With the rapid approach of 2011, I got to thinking about what I wanted from this new year. I do have some things that need to be improved upon that probably require a little seriousness. But I don't want to ditch my "have fun" state of mind. It's good for us. I need to be a better parent, get spawn #1 on the school bus occasionally, work on the colossal temper of #2, maybe dig through the disaster that is my home. I've decided that play is still top priority, but that maybe playing with my kids more would be the solution. They are always looking for more attention and perhaps getting more of the play variety attention (instead of the nagging that we all hate) will lead to improvements in the serious stuff. Of course, playing with my people is fun!
Last year I made a different kind of resolution: play. This was a good resolution for me. I needed more fun in my life- I was bored, dissatisfied, unhappy. I was quite successful with this resolution. I had a great year. I made new friends, tried new things, played Rock Band on the Wii, took a girl time weekend, went to parties, played games with my kids, reconnected with the spouse, got happy. And being happy and playful spilled over into everything else. I smiled more and laughed often. I began enjoying again the things I used to love. I made scenes with my family (usually in the living room, but not always). I even had a good time working.
I started writing. I took two classes (still contemplating grad school) both of which required writing- even that was fun for me. I started this blog just because I knew you wanted to know my everything little thought. I found other writing outlets. I've wanted to write children's books for most of my adult life and just never took that plunge. I still haven't, but I still might. In any case, I've discovered this is not the only option for me. You never know, I may actually write a book someday. As readers of my blog (suckers), you are entitled to signed first editions.
I rediscovered my family as a source of amusement. They are funny. Hardly a day goes by when something doesn't come up that is wildly hilarious. And I laugh. I don't hide it. I guarantee you that the ability to laugh at one's (self and) family makes the rough times much more bearable. Often, in fact, a rough spot can be patched nicely with a little laughter. This is especially true with my volatile pre-preteen. With a little strategically placed giggle, I can turn her colossal fit of temper into a colossal fit of laughter. You know, of course, that the older spawn and I can guffaw uncontrollably together. They think I'm a bit wacky and perhaps "inappropriate"- Rebecca's word. Wacky is good.
With the rapid approach of 2011, I got to thinking about what I wanted from this new year. I do have some things that need to be improved upon that probably require a little seriousness. But I don't want to ditch my "have fun" state of mind. It's good for us. I need to be a better parent, get spawn #1 on the school bus occasionally, work on the colossal temper of #2, maybe dig through the disaster that is my home. I've decided that play is still top priority, but that maybe playing with my kids more would be the solution. They are always looking for more attention and perhaps getting more of the play variety attention (instead of the nagging that we all hate) will lead to improvements in the serious stuff. Of course, playing with my people is fun!
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