In junior high one of my favorite teachers was my English teacher. Every so often she would tell us to take a a sheet of paper and a pen. I know. I know. You're thinking "Ugh, a pop quiz." There were plenty of those but every so often it was an assignment that she told us had no right or wrong. HUH? We didn't get it at first either. She would write a word or phrase on the board and tell us to write anything down. Whatever popped into our heads. Other words, phrases, sentences, a paragraph. Random sentences. Anything. There was no write or wrong. There was no erasing, hence the pen. Even if you misspelled something, just keep going. It was timed. We only had 2 minutes.
The very first word was WATER. I will never forget it. It was one of the longest 2 minutes of my life. The stress. What if I got it wrong? If I didn't write enough? If I rambled to much? How do I start? This blank piece of paper stared back at me. It was horrifying. If I made a mistake I couldn't erase it and start over. There wasn't even time. Oh no! How much time is left. "1 minute", she called out. Panic washed over me. I looked up and stared at her. What in the world did she want me to write? She was looking around the room and said, "Write something, anything. 20 seconds". I wrote my name at the top of the page and then I wrote a list: rain, shower, downpour, wet, drenched. "Time's up. Pens down. Pass up your papers."
I remembered being relieved it was over and panicked at the same time convinced I had failed.
As we left the room for the next class she handed us each our papers back with a smiley face in red ink. Our homework was to bring it back the next day because she was collecting them again. We were stunned. The assignment was the topic of conversation all day. Between classes and at lunch that's all we talked about was how weird, what was the point, how much more we could have written, we all thought of encyclopedic volumes we could write now.
We did these assignments for 2 years. More time was added to the assignment, 5 minutes to write whatever. Eventually, she would write comments on the papers but they were never critical. Our last assignments before graduating 8th grade was the word WATER again. This time I wrote over 2 pages. It wasn't a fully developed essay but good paragraphs some of which actually went together.
She returned them to us stapled to the first water assignment with the same comment on everyone's paper. "Look how far you've come" and the smiley face in red ink across the top of the paper.
I still think of those assignments when I try to think things through. Sometimes I still think in a list like the first assignment and sometimes its full sentences that come together. I find it curious.
Thanks Mrs. W for teaching me to think, think whatever but think.
Showing posts with label livin n lernin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label livin n lernin. Show all posts
Thursday, August 04, 2011
Monday, May 24, 2010
All the same...
Everything is the same. I have been telling my kids this for years. If you learn how to stand in line and wait your turn for the slide in the playground then later you can stand in line at the grocery store. If you helped a teammate get up on a field of play then later you give a friend a ride to the airport. If you got stuck on a problem and asked the teacher a question then later you will ask for help. If you can translate a picture in your head to something on a piece of paper then later you can prepare presentations whether in a boardroom or the dinning room. If you had an idea and were encouraged to voice it then later you will be willing to offer new concepts in the workplace. If you sat quietly through a Sunday mass then later you can sit through a meeting or a presentation. It's all the same and for that reason it all matters.
I am convinced of this and I seriously doubt you could change my mind about it because each day that passes I see it more and more.
This weekend I had the pleasure of attending my nephew's (he's 13, we'll call him N13) piano recital. Because of timing restraints I was only able to go to one and not the other because they are now go to different teachers. There were going to be 11 performances. It was a small venue and all the students are truly talented.
My BIL was going to video the entire performance to later give copies to the other parents. He set up his tripod and camera coincidentally right next to where we were sitting as it was the best vantage point. My younger nephew (N8) was in the aisle seat and was warned to not kick, touch, bump etc the tripod. He also warned all of us sitting nearest that ANYthing we say will come out in the video to be gifted to all the parents.
The first student , she was maybe 8, went up and played from memory their solo. The woman sitting behind me whispered something to her neighbor, she opened the zipper on her purse removed and opened a pack of tissues. The rest of the students went up for their performances and she continued to whisper comments, removed water bottle from her purse which her neighbor had to open and made more noise than I could stand. In a short break where they had to change the piano bench for someone, I turned and reminded the woman that everything was being recorded right next to her. She just smiled at me. She was perfectly quiet when her grandson performed but not the others.
Later BIL joked with me and thanked me for making the comment because he felt awkward doing so since this person was related to him and N8 commented to me that he behaved better than she did. He hoped she'd be more respectful at his recital and wondered if she does all that at Mass. From the mouths of babes....
It's all the same people and it matters.
I am convinced of this and I seriously doubt you could change my mind about it because each day that passes I see it more and more.
This weekend I had the pleasure of attending my nephew's (he's 13, we'll call him N13) piano recital. Because of timing restraints I was only able to go to one and not the other because they are now go to different teachers. There were going to be 11 performances. It was a small venue and all the students are truly talented.
My BIL was going to video the entire performance to later give copies to the other parents. He set up his tripod and camera coincidentally right next to where we were sitting as it was the best vantage point. My younger nephew (N8) was in the aisle seat and was warned to not kick, touch, bump etc the tripod. He also warned all of us sitting nearest that ANYthing we say will come out in the video to be gifted to all the parents.
The first student , she was maybe 8, went up and played from memory their solo. The woman sitting behind me whispered something to her neighbor, she opened the zipper on her purse removed and opened a pack of tissues. The rest of the students went up for their performances and she continued to whisper comments, removed water bottle from her purse which her neighbor had to open and made more noise than I could stand. In a short break where they had to change the piano bench for someone, I turned and reminded the woman that everything was being recorded right next to her. She just smiled at me. She was perfectly quiet when her grandson performed but not the others.
Later BIL joked with me and thanked me for making the comment because he felt awkward doing so since this person was related to him and N8 commented to me that he behaved better than she did. He hoped she'd be more respectful at his recital and wondered if she does all that at Mass. From the mouths of babes....
It's all the same people and it matters.
Thursday, April 01, 2010
...No luck at all
My mother had a saying, "If it wasn't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all." There is much evidence in my life stories supporting the notion I inherited this trait. Here's one. Enjoy!
I love celebrations. I love parties. I love a good time. Anything can become something to celebrate. So, obviously, birthdays are well worth celebrating in my book. It doesn't matter the #, they are all occasions to be marked as fait acompli! we made it another year! hooray!
I married Mr. Opposite of me (in many ways) especially in the celebrate birthdays arena. He does NOT like celebrating his birthday because he does NOT like the idea of getting old. Even more so than most people. Whatever. I was not happy with the idea that he would be by himself on his birthday with no one in NY to make a fuss for his birthday. The fact that he was probably thrilled with this prospect was of no interest to me.
I set out on a mission to have a favorite dessert secretly delivered to him. After running into difficulties at the hotel getting assistance in this endeavor I resorted to Plan B. The entire time during his stay there he has repeatedly told me of a deli he had lunch at daily. Hubby is nothing if not consistent. Over various conversations, I gleaned that it's across the street from their job site, he went every day with his co-worker who always got the soup of the day, the waitresses already knew them by name and one of them was named Anne. So, how many deli's could there be in this small town where they were working? I googled it and came up with 4 in the general vicinity of where the site was. I wasn't taking him literally when he said across the street (I should have) and I started calling until on the 3rd call I found the one with a waitress named Anne. She got on the phone and we were able to confirm the 2 men did go there every day and which one hubby was. I tell her his birthday is coming up and I wanted to do something special. She put me on with the owner. He didn't know quite what we could get for him because according to the owner hubby doesn't eat much (understatement of the year- if you look up picky eater in the dictionary, its a picture of him). We got a laugh when from Miami I was able to tell him the main meals that he orders over and over, I even got the condiments and the sides right. So, back to dessert. We settled on 4 over sized red velvet cake cupcakes that were also the owners favorites and he assured me they were aMAYZing. I tell him if they want to take a picture, sing him Happy Birthday whatever, they want to embarrass him a little. He assures me that " (they'll) do him good." Perfect.
I tell a few people about it here and of course there were the naysayers predicting he wouldn't eat there that day. Naysayer #1 being our son, 17. Whatever.
I try to get a hold of the co-worker but as I don't have his # because everyone just uses cell phones. The other drawback was I only knew his 1st name, no last name. So I start with the hotel. I called his room on 3 separate occasions, he wasn't there. I call the work office in the city he's originally from and actually make it as far as the division he works in. I tried to get to a secretary or close co-worker to get his cell # but had to leave a message which probably never got delivered and I never got a call back.
So, Bday get here. It's 12:45. I know he goes to lunch 12ish (consistent, remember) so I figure he'll get the cupcakes soon. I call to wish him a happy birthday and he tells me he just got back from lunch. I tell him I was glad I didn't interrupt work and wait...nothing. I think, SOB! he didn't eat there. So, I ask and he tells me all about going to ANOTHER deli that we had gone to when we were up there last year. I started laughing. So, you didn't go across the street. And he actually boasts - in the 2 months I've been here this is only the 3rd time I've been someplace else. I'm still laughing.
Me: Great, babe. Now I need you to go across the street and have dessert.
Him: Huh?
Me: You heard me, go across the street. Thank Anne and Ronnie and have dessert.
Him: What did you do?
Me: Never you mind. Just go.
Him: By myself?
Me: No, take whoever you had lunch with
Him: Ok, - hey co-worker, don't sit down!- I'll call you back.
MIL calls me and asks how the surprise went. I tell her the story and she starts laughing hysterically. So, did he go? He's there now I tell her.
He calls me back. The cupcakes were AMAZING!
At least there's that.
I love celebrations. I love parties. I love a good time. Anything can become something to celebrate. So, obviously, birthdays are well worth celebrating in my book. It doesn't matter the #, they are all occasions to be marked as fait acompli! we made it another year! hooray!
I married Mr. Opposite of me (in many ways) especially in the celebrate birthdays arena. He does NOT like celebrating his birthday because he does NOT like the idea of getting old. Even more so than most people. Whatever. I was not happy with the idea that he would be by himself on his birthday with no one in NY to make a fuss for his birthday. The fact that he was probably thrilled with this prospect was of no interest to me.
I set out on a mission to have a favorite dessert secretly delivered to him. After running into difficulties at the hotel getting assistance in this endeavor I resorted to Plan B. The entire time during his stay there he has repeatedly told me of a deli he had lunch at daily. Hubby is nothing if not consistent. Over various conversations, I gleaned that it's across the street from their job site, he went every day with his co-worker who always got the soup of the day, the waitresses already knew them by name and one of them was named Anne. So, how many deli's could there be in this small town where they were working? I googled it and came up with 4 in the general vicinity of where the site was. I wasn't taking him literally when he said across the street (I should have) and I started calling until on the 3rd call I found the one with a waitress named Anne. She got on the phone and we were able to confirm the 2 men did go there every day and which one hubby was. I tell her his birthday is coming up and I wanted to do something special. She put me on with the owner. He didn't know quite what we could get for him because according to the owner hubby doesn't eat much (understatement of the year- if you look up picky eater in the dictionary, its a picture of him). We got a laugh when from Miami I was able to tell him the main meals that he orders over and over, I even got the condiments and the sides right. So, back to dessert. We settled on 4 over sized red velvet cake cupcakes that were also the owners favorites and he assured me they were aMAYZing. I tell him if they want to take a picture, sing him Happy Birthday whatever, they want to embarrass him a little. He assures me that " (they'll) do him good." Perfect.
I tell a few people about it here and of course there were the naysayers predicting he wouldn't eat there that day. Naysayer #1 being our son, 17. Whatever.
I try to get a hold of the co-worker but as I don't have his # because everyone just uses cell phones. The other drawback was I only knew his 1st name, no last name. So I start with the hotel. I called his room on 3 separate occasions, he wasn't there. I call the work office in the city he's originally from and actually make it as far as the division he works in. I tried to get to a secretary or close co-worker to get his cell # but had to leave a message which probably never got delivered and I never got a call back.
So, Bday get here. It's 12:45. I know he goes to lunch 12ish (consistent, remember) so I figure he'll get the cupcakes soon. I call to wish him a happy birthday and he tells me he just got back from lunch. I tell him I was glad I didn't interrupt work and wait...nothing. I think, SOB! he didn't eat there. So, I ask and he tells me all about going to ANOTHER deli that we had gone to when we were up there last year. I started laughing. So, you didn't go across the street. And he actually boasts - in the 2 months I've been here this is only the 3rd time I've been someplace else. I'm still laughing.
Me: Great, babe. Now I need you to go across the street and have dessert.
Him: Huh?
Me: You heard me, go across the street. Thank Anne and Ronnie and have dessert.
Him: What did you do?
Me: Never you mind. Just go.
Him: By myself?
Me: No, take whoever you had lunch with
Him: Ok, - hey co-worker, don't sit down!- I'll call you back.
MIL calls me and asks how the surprise went. I tell her the story and she starts laughing hysterically. So, did he go? He's there now I tell her.
He calls me back. The cupcakes were AMAZING!
At least there's that.
Thursday, December 03, 2009
Never assume
There are tons of things that one (read: I) assume people just know. One for example, is not to assume because we all know what happens when you assume.
Black Friday shopping 20 and I witnessed an exchange and he just couldn't believe it. We were at a high end chain patiently waiting at the register. There were more employees in the store than shoppers. There may have been 3 shoppers or maybe 2 of them were together, I don't know and there were at least a dozen employees. No matter we waited at the register while let's call her NH for New Hire asked R (Register employee) for specifics on how to take a suit to the back to another employee to have it steamed for someone coming to pick it up in 1/2 an hour. R simply told her to hang it and take it back. NH didn't know where the hangers were. Did I mention that this was a clothing store? That is ALL they sell no housewares, no personal items just clothes and she didn't know where to get a hanger. R referred her to yet another employee to which NH replied that she had just sent her here. R smiles at us and tells us she will be right with us and walks over to a closet and gives her a suit hanger telling NH that its the only one she has and she needs to return it after it's steamed. I thought to myself, how is this guy taking it home? Is he going to wear it? NH proceeded to hang the jacket as R took our item to ring us up. Then NH asked do I need a hanger for the pants? The picture forming in my head is a la 3 stooges standing there holding the pants up getting them steamed and in the process being steamed themselves. R puts down our item and tells her no, you can hang it here and then shows her how to hang the pants and the jacket on the same hanger. NH's eyebrows hit the top of her hairline as she let out an Ohhhh!
We finally get rung up and walk out of the store as no less than 5 employees thank us for shopping there. I honestly had the urge to tell them to buy some hangers with the money I just gave them but I refrained. Once we made it to the mall 20 asked, "Was that for real? She didn't know how to hang the suit?" We both laughed as we recalled the truly stunned look on her face when she was shown how.
That evening over dinner we retell our story and 20 tells us a story of how he had to show a college buddy how to sweep and mop . We all laughed 17 not understanding what he had to teach and asked what the guy was studying. We all lost it when 20 told us the guy was studying engineering. Too funny!
Black Friday shopping 20 and I witnessed an exchange and he just couldn't believe it. We were at a high end chain patiently waiting at the register. There were more employees in the store than shoppers. There may have been 3 shoppers or maybe 2 of them were together, I don't know and there were at least a dozen employees. No matter we waited at the register while let's call her NH for New Hire asked R (Register employee) for specifics on how to take a suit to the back to another employee to have it steamed for someone coming to pick it up in 1/2 an hour. R simply told her to hang it and take it back. NH didn't know where the hangers were. Did I mention that this was a clothing store? That is ALL they sell no housewares, no personal items just clothes and she didn't know where to get a hanger. R referred her to yet another employee to which NH replied that she had just sent her here. R smiles at us and tells us she will be right with us and walks over to a closet and gives her a suit hanger telling NH that its the only one she has and she needs to return it after it's steamed. I thought to myself, how is this guy taking it home? Is he going to wear it? NH proceeded to hang the jacket as R took our item to ring us up. Then NH asked do I need a hanger for the pants? The picture forming in my head is a la 3 stooges standing there holding the pants up getting them steamed and in the process being steamed themselves. R puts down our item and tells her no, you can hang it here and then shows her how to hang the pants and the jacket on the same hanger. NH's eyebrows hit the top of her hairline as she let out an Ohhhh!
We finally get rung up and walk out of the store as no less than 5 employees thank us for shopping there. I honestly had the urge to tell them to buy some hangers with the money I just gave them but I refrained. Once we made it to the mall 20 asked, "Was that for real? She didn't know how to hang the suit?" We both laughed as we recalled the truly stunned look on her face when she was shown how.
That evening over dinner we retell our story and 20 tells us a story of how he had to show a college buddy how to sweep and mop . We all laughed 17 not understanding what he had to teach and asked what the guy was studying. We all lost it when 20 told us the guy was studying engineering. Too funny!
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Never ever ever again!
Recently, I stated that as I get older I use the word never less and less but when I do use it I do mean it. I'm not going to say that I always stick to the never when I say it but I meant it when I said it. I guess always is a word I use less and less as I get older too. I try to avoid extremes and never and always are extremes as for as I am concerned.
With that preamble I am hereby stating that I will never ever ever again fly Spirit Airlines. I just returned from a trip to NYC and it was the worst flying experience of my life and people I have been flying since I was 3 years old. I realize that its a no-frills airline but come on give me a break!
The trip up the plane was half empty (should have been a sign). So much so that we were told 9 people had to move from the front of the plane towards the back (behind row 23) in order to balance the weight of the plane and until that happened we could not pull away from the terminal. A few people got up but not 9 so MIL, FIL and I got up and moved. We were told we could move back once we had taken off, it was just for the take off. Apparently, the plance doesn't have to be balanced in the air or for landing just for pulling away from the terminal. Whatever. We were excited to leave and so off we went.
Did you know they won't even give you a cup of water?! You have to pay for any drink or food even WATER!. Whatever, we weren't thirsty. The seats were cushy but can you say sardine? I realize I am a big girl but even FIL who is NOT a big man was uncomfortable. We didn't even have enough leg room to fit our purse or camera bag under the seat in front of us. We had to get up, slip the item in and then sit down. There are no words to describe the kind of cramped we were experiencing.
The trip back was even worse. First, it was delayed. Yes, I was rational at the time and I understand that it may not have been the airlines fault but it just added to the whole yucky experience. Can you say security? They sure can't. We all filed in handing our boarding passes to someone who looked like they were looking at them and made our way to the plane only to pass by another entrance that was unmanned, unblocked and anyone could have gotten onto the plane. Comforting, I know. Once again we squeezed into our seats. This time MIL and I couldn't get the armrest to lift on the isle seat so we got goosed by the armrest as we were trying to sit down. Again, no leg room to put the purse under the seat. This time we bought water bottles in the terminal (one per couple) just in case we wanted something to drink and we tried to put them in the pocket of the seat in front of us but when we saw all the garbage that was in there we decided to hold on to them. They weren't full since we had already started drinking them in the gate as we waited for our delayed flight. The people sitting behind us had someone in their seat. How can that be? The lady sitting there pulls out her stub, its the right seat. We are getting warm in here and just thinking sit on her lap and lets go already. Its late, we're tired and want to go home. Oh, look she's on the wrong flight. HUH?! you heard me the wrong flight. There's that top notch security again. I feel so safe its unbearable. Finally, everyone is seated and the flight attendant is reminding everyone to turn off their cell phones and other electrical devices. A few seconds later she reminds us again - with attitude we get a 'If it has an on/off switch it must be turned off'. Then we sit for over 20 minutes on the tarmac waiting to take off. There it is again, 'I can hear your cell phone. It must be turned off. If they could be on believe me we'd have ours on too.' So, I say out loud but I doubt she heard me, 'If you can hear it, why not just tell that person instead of mouthing to all of us.' I'm helpful that way. Hubby tried to sleep but had difficulty since his seat wouldn't go back neither would mine. In our row only MIL's worked.
Finally, we are in the air and then since we've been waiting for so long people need to use the bathroom, a couple get up and head that way. The flight attendant sends one back telling them they can't stand in the aisle to wait. The man goes back. The girl comes out of the rest room and by the time the man comes back someone else who was sitting closer already went in. He's sent back again. This happens to others and to that man 3 times! Finally, the third time he sees an empty aisle seat close to the bathroom and sits there to wait his turn. It was like we were in friggin kindergarten being told to only get up one at a time. MIL and I were stunned.
Now, here comes the cart with snacks and beverages which we know have to be purchased; even the water. Fine. But this is the very first time in my life where cash is no good. It HAD to be a debit/credit card. I couldn't believe it.
Now we had to get ready for landing. Did you check that your seatback was up all the way? They kept saying it and they walked by enough times collecting garbage but I did not see them tell anyone who had their seatback to move it up and plenty of people did. I had to ask the lady in front of my MIL to put hers up and got the dirtiest look ever.
We were so happy to get out of there. I will never evah ever fly Spirit again.
With that preamble I am hereby stating that I will never ever ever again fly Spirit Airlines. I just returned from a trip to NYC and it was the worst flying experience of my life and people I have been flying since I was 3 years old. I realize that its a no-frills airline but come on give me a break!
The trip up the plane was half empty (should have been a sign). So much so that we were told 9 people had to move from the front of the plane towards the back (behind row 23) in order to balance the weight of the plane and until that happened we could not pull away from the terminal. A few people got up but not 9 so MIL, FIL and I got up and moved. We were told we could move back once we had taken off, it was just for the take off. Apparently, the plance doesn't have to be balanced in the air or for landing just for pulling away from the terminal. Whatever. We were excited to leave and so off we went.
Did you know they won't even give you a cup of water?! You have to pay for any drink or food even WATER!. Whatever, we weren't thirsty. The seats were cushy but can you say sardine? I realize I am a big girl but even FIL who is NOT a big man was uncomfortable. We didn't even have enough leg room to fit our purse or camera bag under the seat in front of us. We had to get up, slip the item in and then sit down. There are no words to describe the kind of cramped we were experiencing.
The trip back was even worse. First, it was delayed. Yes, I was rational at the time and I understand that it may not have been the airlines fault but it just added to the whole yucky experience. Can you say security? They sure can't. We all filed in handing our boarding passes to someone who looked like they were looking at them and made our way to the plane only to pass by another entrance that was unmanned, unblocked and anyone could have gotten onto the plane. Comforting, I know. Once again we squeezed into our seats. This time MIL and I couldn't get the armrest to lift on the isle seat so we got goosed by the armrest as we were trying to sit down. Again, no leg room to put the purse under the seat. This time we bought water bottles in the terminal (one per couple) just in case we wanted something to drink and we tried to put them in the pocket of the seat in front of us but when we saw all the garbage that was in there we decided to hold on to them. They weren't full since we had already started drinking them in the gate as we waited for our delayed flight. The people sitting behind us had someone in their seat. How can that be? The lady sitting there pulls out her stub, its the right seat. We are getting warm in here and just thinking sit on her lap and lets go already. Its late, we're tired and want to go home. Oh, look she's on the wrong flight. HUH?! you heard me the wrong flight. There's that top notch security again. I feel so safe its unbearable. Finally, everyone is seated and the flight attendant is reminding everyone to turn off their cell phones and other electrical devices. A few seconds later she reminds us again - with attitude we get a 'If it has an on/off switch it must be turned off'. Then we sit for over 20 minutes on the tarmac waiting to take off. There it is again, 'I can hear your cell phone. It must be turned off. If they could be on believe me we'd have ours on too.' So, I say out loud but I doubt she heard me, 'If you can hear it, why not just tell that person instead of mouthing to all of us.' I'm helpful that way. Hubby tried to sleep but had difficulty since his seat wouldn't go back neither would mine. In our row only MIL's worked.
Finally, we are in the air and then since we've been waiting for so long people need to use the bathroom, a couple get up and head that way. The flight attendant sends one back telling them they can't stand in the aisle to wait. The man goes back. The girl comes out of the rest room and by the time the man comes back someone else who was sitting closer already went in. He's sent back again. This happens to others and to that man 3 times! Finally, the third time he sees an empty aisle seat close to the bathroom and sits there to wait his turn. It was like we were in friggin kindergarten being told to only get up one at a time. MIL and I were stunned.
Now, here comes the cart with snacks and beverages which we know have to be purchased; even the water. Fine. But this is the very first time in my life where cash is no good. It HAD to be a debit/credit card. I couldn't believe it.
Now we had to get ready for landing. Did you check that your seatback was up all the way? They kept saying it and they walked by enough times collecting garbage but I did not see them tell anyone who had their seatback to move it up and plenty of people did. I had to ask the lady in front of my MIL to put hers up and got the dirtiest look ever.
We were so happy to get out of there. I will never evah ever fly Spirit again.
Monday, May 11, 2009
An Egg? Really?
Well, Hilda's question got me thinking. I have no clue why Humpty is an egg. I had never questioned it before. I simply accepted that Humpty was an egg. Why shouldn't I? The egg was everywhere. Were we all just brainwashed into thinking Humpty was an egg by some random artist and has this farce been perpetuated throughout the years by educators and publishers everywhere? The rhyme doesn't say anything about an egg. So, why IS Humpty Dumpty portrayed as an egg? Thank goodness for the Internet. I would have given up searching for the answer if I would have had to go through how many books trying to research the answer. Too much work. But after some simple surfing around, the short of the long of it is that it was originally a rhyming riddle and the answer is an egg. Cool. So, there you go that's why Humpty is an egg.
Click below for further info:
http://www.straightdope.com/columns/read/1494/why-is-humpty-dumpty-portrayed-as-an-egg-even-though-eggs-arent-mentioned-in-the-nursery-rhyme
Click below for further info:
http://www.straightdope.com/columns/read/1494/why-is-humpty-dumpty-portrayed-as-an-egg-even-though-eggs-arent-mentioned-in-the-nursery-rhyme
Thursday, April 09, 2009
A New Year
Hubby and I have been having some ups and downs or I guess it would be better described as down and ups with the ups never quite coming back up to speed. Anyway, I am exhausted mentally and emotionally this morning because yesterday we had one of those talks. You know the ones, the ones where you talk/rant/cry for hours. I'm so drained. I hope some good comes out of it. We've basically agreed to give it (read:us) one more try. He even set a deadline. One Year. So a year from now we will either be happy/content enough to be forever or we will separate and move on.
I realize that we have said this type of thing before. We have said that we are going to try certain things and it never lasts very long. But this time the difference is that there's a finite end, a finish line if you will at which time progress will be measured. See, hubby is a numbers guy and it may help if he has those concrete things, tangible goals, dates etc. Let's see how this experiment in us goes. You may hear about it, you may not. It depends on my mood.
I don't expect everything to be peaches and cream all the time. Honest, that's not my expectation of a marriage. I know that nothing can maintain a perpetual high. And I am not blaming hubby for the way things are. I acknowledge my part in this dance and so I am going to do what he asks and give it this year of reconnecting -- it takes two to tango.
Maybe I'll start this afternoon by letting him in on my words for the year: comfort & joy. Today I wish I had a few more hours of sleep to recharge from last night.
I realize that we have said this type of thing before. We have said that we are going to try certain things and it never lasts very long. But this time the difference is that there's a finite end, a finish line if you will at which time progress will be measured. See, hubby is a numbers guy and it may help if he has those concrete things, tangible goals, dates etc. Let's see how this experiment in us goes. You may hear about it, you may not. It depends on my mood.
I don't expect everything to be peaches and cream all the time. Honest, that's not my expectation of a marriage. I know that nothing can maintain a perpetual high. And I am not blaming hubby for the way things are. I acknowledge my part in this dance and so I am going to do what he asks and give it this year of reconnecting -- it takes two to tango.
Maybe I'll start this afternoon by letting him in on my words for the year: comfort & joy. Today I wish I had a few more hours of sleep to recharge from last night.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Do you know what time it is?
For the love of Pete, give me back my hour!
We Sprang forward yesterday and I want my hour back! I hate this time of year, when we change times. This whole transition week because that's how long it will take me to figure out the time of day. One measly hour you say shouldn't affect me so much. WELL! It did. It does. And it will do it again in the fall only then I still will not like it because it will be the fabulous 25 hour day and I will not do great things in that additional hour oh so generously granted.
Back to yesterday. I was co-hosting a Gold Party at a friend's house. Which meant leave things up and running at my house for the sick husband and 17, take munchies and wine and go be hostess with the mostest at a friend's house. Sounds easy. Yeah, I thought so, until the powers that be stole an hour right out from under me.
I knew this was going to happen when I went o bed on Saturday. I'm not a complete idiot (just read, don't argue here). When I woke up my cell phone was on my nightstand and I checked the time there thinking it would be the only reliable source. It should auto change. Fine. 7:10. I slowly get up, go out to the living room, find some mindless entertainment on TV and head to the kitchen. The time on the oven matches the cell phone. Impressive, hubby must have changed it before he went to bed. Cool. I mix a dip and put it in the fridge to chill and start the coffee. I gather the serving trays I am taking to the party and pack up the wine. I start slicing the cheese and laying it out on a platter. I have my first cup of Joe, lounging on the sofa watching a cooking show. I've got plenty of time. I think I may have even dozed off for a minute or 20 because I don't recall the entire recipe. As I stretch and sit up, hubby walks out and plops on the sofa.
H: Did you make coffee.
I made American, I'll make Cuban now.
H: You realize, that's not the right time.
Huh? What do you mean? As I check my cell against the oven.
H: It's an hour later. Remember, the time changes today. It's actually 9:45.
WHAT?! No, the oven's right, it matches my cell.
He clicks and shows me the time on the TV. 9:47. He stole an hour! Poof. It was gone. CRAP! I'm leaving at 11:am. Now, I don't have time for everything now. I was going to leave 17 his waffle batter mixed, leave Hubby dinner seasoned and ready to stick in the oven, I still had to shower and and there was other stuff that was getting muddled. So, after cursing at my phone and wasting 10 minutes re-setting the time. I went to shower and left Hubby making the Cuban coffee. I didn't make the batter or season the chicken. I had my cafe con leche (more caffeine was a priority) and gathered my things to go to the party.
The party was a success and the lost hour was a topic of conversation throughout the day. I was not the only one struggling with this. Others had missed mass, and overall spent the day running late.
After the party a friend and I decide to go eat Indian Food at a local restaurant the doesn't open until 5:30. We have time to kill before it opens. No problem. After we find the place we'll find another place to walk around and chat. We ended up just sitting in the car chatting. We are watching the clock in the car. Her car. Finally, it's 5:28. We get to the restaurant and I expect to be one the first people there. The restaurant is half full. When I return from the ladies room my friend tells me. You realize we sat in the car for an extra hour. It's 6:30. HUH?! there it was again, an hour stolen. Poof. Gone. She goes on to explain, we watched the car clock that wasn't reset. It didn't occur to either of us to check our cells or her to check her watch (I don't wear one). Amazing. We are both astonished by the sheer dumbness of this. It's too funny. You can't make this up. She calls her husband to tell him because he's at home waiting for us to take him dinner. Well, dearly we'll be an hour later. He has no words, his response and commentary was "Ughhhh!" When I tell me husband on the way home, he laughed heartily and tell me I'm a dumbazz. Nice, huh. Not that I was thinking I was so brilliant at the moment.
It's a good thing I had a nice happy day, chatting with girlfriend, making money at the Gold Party and having Indian with a friend because otherwise it really would have been a sucky day.
Why so we have to spring and fall forwards and backwards with the time anyway. Does it honestly serve a purpose anymore, other than frustrate the hell out of me for 2 weeks of the year? Gimme patience!
We Sprang forward yesterday and I want my hour back! I hate this time of year, when we change times. This whole transition week because that's how long it will take me to figure out the time of day. One measly hour you say shouldn't affect me so much. WELL! It did. It does. And it will do it again in the fall only then I still will not like it because it will be the fabulous 25 hour day and I will not do great things in that additional hour oh so generously granted.
Back to yesterday. I was co-hosting a Gold Party at a friend's house. Which meant leave things up and running at my house for the sick husband and 17, take munchies and wine and go be hostess with the mostest at a friend's house. Sounds easy. Yeah, I thought so, until the powers that be stole an hour right out from under me.
I knew this was going to happen when I went o bed on Saturday. I'm not a complete idiot (just read, don't argue here). When I woke up my cell phone was on my nightstand and I checked the time there thinking it would be the only reliable source. It should auto change. Fine. 7:10. I slowly get up, go out to the living room, find some mindless entertainment on TV and head to the kitchen. The time on the oven matches the cell phone. Impressive, hubby must have changed it before he went to bed. Cool. I mix a dip and put it in the fridge to chill and start the coffee. I gather the serving trays I am taking to the party and pack up the wine. I start slicing the cheese and laying it out on a platter. I have my first cup of Joe, lounging on the sofa watching a cooking show. I've got plenty of time. I think I may have even dozed off for a minute or 20 because I don't recall the entire recipe. As I stretch and sit up, hubby walks out and plops on the sofa.
H: Did you make coffee.
I made American, I'll make Cuban now.
H: You realize, that's not the right time.
Huh? What do you mean? As I check my cell against the oven.
H: It's an hour later. Remember, the time changes today. It's actually 9:45.
WHAT?! No, the oven's right, it matches my cell.
He clicks and shows me the time on the TV. 9:47. He stole an hour! Poof. It was gone. CRAP! I'm leaving at 11:am. Now, I don't have time for everything now. I was going to leave 17 his waffle batter mixed, leave Hubby dinner seasoned and ready to stick in the oven, I still had to shower and and there was other stuff that was getting muddled. So, after cursing at my phone and wasting 10 minutes re-setting the time. I went to shower and left Hubby making the Cuban coffee. I didn't make the batter or season the chicken. I had my cafe con leche (more caffeine was a priority) and gathered my things to go to the party.
The party was a success and the lost hour was a topic of conversation throughout the day. I was not the only one struggling with this. Others had missed mass, and overall spent the day running late.
After the party a friend and I decide to go eat Indian Food at a local restaurant the doesn't open until 5:30. We have time to kill before it opens. No problem. After we find the place we'll find another place to walk around and chat. We ended up just sitting in the car chatting. We are watching the clock in the car. Her car. Finally, it's 5:28. We get to the restaurant and I expect to be one the first people there. The restaurant is half full. When I return from the ladies room my friend tells me. You realize we sat in the car for an extra hour. It's 6:30. HUH?! there it was again, an hour stolen. Poof. Gone. She goes on to explain, we watched the car clock that wasn't reset. It didn't occur to either of us to check our cells or her to check her watch (I don't wear one). Amazing. We are both astonished by the sheer dumbness of this. It's too funny. You can't make this up. She calls her husband to tell him because he's at home waiting for us to take him dinner. Well, dearly we'll be an hour later. He has no words, his response and commentary was "Ughhhh!" When I tell me husband on the way home, he laughed heartily and tell me I'm a dumbazz. Nice, huh. Not that I was thinking I was so brilliant at the moment.
It's a good thing I had a nice happy day, chatting with girlfriend, making money at the Gold Party and having Indian with a friend because otherwise it really would have been a sucky day.
Why so we have to spring and fall forwards and backwards with the time anyway. Does it honestly serve a purpose anymore, other than frustrate the hell out of me for 2 weeks of the year? Gimme patience!
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Home?
Home is where you hang your hat...Home is where your heart is....Home away from home....
We've heard home can be many things. We all want to make our house a home. What is home? The other day when speaking to 18 after his football game. He said he'd call me back they were about to board the bus and he'd call me when he got home and he hung up.
OK, new flash! Home is here with me! Your dorm is not home, it's your dorm room where you happen to be living for a couple of semesters and then they will assign you another one. It kind of hit me like a bucket of cold water but as I drip dried I thought. He called his dorm home...hmmm...that means he's comfortable there. It's his base, his center. He likes it. That's good, I guess. I had no idea that would freak me out the way it did. But it's all good.
But for the record, it's his TEMPORARY home because home is still our house, here, home with me.
We leave Thursday to spend Homecoming weekend there and I can wait to see him and to see his *home*.
We've heard home can be many things. We all want to make our house a home. What is home? The other day when speaking to 18 after his football game. He said he'd call me back they were about to board the bus and he'd call me when he got home and he hung up.
OK, new flash! Home is here with me! Your dorm is not home, it's your dorm room where you happen to be living for a couple of semesters and then they will assign you another one. It kind of hit me like a bucket of cold water but as I drip dried I thought. He called his dorm home...hmmm...that means he's comfortable there. It's his base, his center. He likes it. That's good, I guess. I had no idea that would freak me out the way it did. But it's all good.
But for the record, it's his TEMPORARY home because home is still our house, here, home with me.
We leave Thursday to spend Homecoming weekend there and I can wait to see him and to see his *home*.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Birds and the WHAT!
When you become a parent you know you will eventually need to have one of *those* talks with your kids. I've done it twice. Actually more than that because we have revisited the topic on a variety of occasions. Sometimes they catch you off guard and other times you catch them off guard. I remember when I approached (now) 16 about it way back and he flat out told me that "He didn't want to talk about it now he would let me know when" I backed off. Eventually, he did come around and bring it up and we had our first of a few *talks*.
I just never knew I would have this talk with my grandmother. For real people. She's 85 and argued with me and the nurses at the hospital the other day that she only had one (how shall I put this delicately) outlet from which to do her business ALL her business.
She went in for what I figured would turn out to be a yeast infection and when the nurse was talking to her about cleanliness etc down there. My GM exploded at her that she didn't understand what she was talking about how to keep all her parts clean when she only had one output. It was all I could do to not start cracking up. I'm imagining what this sounds like from other parts of the ER when you don't know what's going on and can only hear my GM using her salty sailor vocabulary. It got to the point that the nurse explained you know how people say, I'm going #1 or #2...well that's cuz there's 2 outputs and they start counting from the front. It really through her off when the nurse told her that she actually had 3 holes. My GM told her "You might be deformed and have 3 but I am normal and have 1." My GM started getting very explicit about all the business that goes on in that area (or ever went on) and that it's all handled in one location. The nurse just looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders and asked Does she really need to understand that at this point in her life? Nurse was frustrated and agreed that I was right, it really doesn't matter at this point.
But my life being what it is and GM being bored laying there waiting for test results she was like a dog with a bone; just couldn't let it go. She went on an on. I mostly let her ramble and occasionally said a-huh, mm-hmmm when I thought it was appropriate. But then she started point blank asking me questions. I tried to let them go; pretend they were rhetorical. But NO! She kept asking. So, I slowly put the book down and answered as broadly as I could. Then I finally said Look, believe us or don't believe us, it doesn't matter to me. But you have to think that the medically trained person should know how many holes there are in that area. There are three, ok. One to p, another to poo and a third for fun (not the word I used but don't want to get those kinds of hits). She was stunned, shocked. I enjoyed the silence and got back to my book. About 20 minutes later, she very matter of factly said well, I guess things have changed in 80 years because there used to be 1 and now there are three just like Pluto was a planet and now its not. I had to walk out of the room to not laugh hysterically in her face. Because the planets and your privates both ever changing areas of science. It was just too much for me. Too too funny.
I just never knew I would have this talk with my grandmother. For real people. She's 85 and argued with me and the nurses at the hospital the other day that she only had one (how shall I put this delicately) outlet from which to do her business ALL her business.
She went in for what I figured would turn out to be a yeast infection and when the nurse was talking to her about cleanliness etc down there. My GM exploded at her that she didn't understand what she was talking about how to keep all her parts clean when she only had one output. It was all I could do to not start cracking up. I'm imagining what this sounds like from other parts of the ER when you don't know what's going on and can only hear my GM using her salty sailor vocabulary. It got to the point that the nurse explained you know how people say, I'm going #1 or #2...well that's cuz there's 2 outputs and they start counting from the front. It really through her off when the nurse told her that she actually had 3 holes. My GM told her "You might be deformed and have 3 but I am normal and have 1." My GM started getting very explicit about all the business that goes on in that area (or ever went on) and that it's all handled in one location. The nurse just looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders and asked Does she really need to understand that at this point in her life? Nurse was frustrated and agreed that I was right, it really doesn't matter at this point.
But my life being what it is and GM being bored laying there waiting for test results she was like a dog with a bone; just couldn't let it go. She went on an on. I mostly let her ramble and occasionally said a-huh, mm-hmmm when I thought it was appropriate. But then she started point blank asking me questions. I tried to let them go; pretend they were rhetorical. But NO! She kept asking. So, I slowly put the book down and answered as broadly as I could. Then I finally said Look, believe us or don't believe us, it doesn't matter to me. But you have to think that the medically trained person should know how many holes there are in that area. There are three, ok. One to p, another to poo and a third for fun (not the word I used but don't want to get those kinds of hits). She was stunned, shocked. I enjoyed the silence and got back to my book. About 20 minutes later, she very matter of factly said well, I guess things have changed in 80 years because there used to be 1 and now there are three just like Pluto was a planet and now its not. I had to walk out of the room to not laugh hysterically in her face. Because the planets and your privates both ever changing areas of science. It was just too much for me. Too too funny.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Still stunned
I got someone fired yesterday and I am still stunned.
Last week when my GM was being discharged from the hospital I had to deal with her assigned Case workers. I thought they were supposed to be Social Workers to assist me in finding adequate care and housing for my GM. Over the span of 3 days I had a few verbal exchanges with 2 separate case workers that did not go well. Every time I asked for the names and # of some places fro me to go check out I was told it wasn't their responsibility that it was the families. On day 3, I was flat out told that if I didn't pick her up within an hour they were filing an abuse case against me with that govt agency that handles these things (not writing the name because who knows what hit I will get from it). So, fast forward to me getting my GM placed by the sheer grace of God and a friend's help to me calling and setting an appointment with the hospital's Risk Management (read: legal) department. I also called that govt agency on my own and discussed the hospital's handling of the situation. Their rep offered to go with me to the meeting. I'll call her Rep.
Now it's yesterday, we met at the hospital early, go to the Risk Mgmt office and the woman goes into a tirade that I am there the wrong day, she can't see me now, do I think I can show up whenever I want yadda yadda. I calmly state that I need to speak with someone this morning. If not her then someone else that I would appreciate her finding someone to hear me out. She has no idea who the woman with me is. She tells me I can meet with M and C, they run the Case worker dept. I had to insist that she call over to see if they were there, available and ask for directions. She unwillingly complied. Rep has not said a word this entire time. They don't know who she is. We find C and I introduce myself and start to introduce Rep when C interrupts me can calls for M to join us in the conf room. Fine. We all sit and they ask me why I am there. I pull out my notebook where I had all my notes of who I spoke to when and what was said. Rep is sitting quietly, they don't know who she is. They ask me some questions and we calmly and go over all the details. M, their immediate supervisor, apologizes and explains that they were in fact a bit abrupt with me, thank you for coming. Rep says, that's it? They were abrupt. C then asks me, "well exactly what do you and your mother want us to do?" AHA, I think. They think Rep is my mother. Rep tells them "I am not her mother" as she pulls out her business cards and hands them each one. Their eyes are as big as saucers. They excused themselves and step out of the room. The com back momentarily with a file. They apologize again and explain that their behavior did not follow their policies and standards and ask us to please be quiet as they call the 2nd case worker. We sat there as they called him and fired him over the phone! Told him not to come in the next day, to come in Monday for his final paycheck and they would go over the reasons then. They hung up, thanked us for coming and said their good-byes. Rep and I walked out and didn't speak until we got on the elevator. She said, WOW. I said, Dayum! They fired him! She said, I've never seen that. Me neither.
It's a day later and I am still a bit stunned by it. I actually feel bad for the guy even though he made me go through hell. I can only imagine that there were previous complaint or problems with him and maybe he was on probation or something because how could they just do that like that? WOW!
Last week when my GM was being discharged from the hospital I had to deal with her assigned Case workers. I thought they were supposed to be Social Workers to assist me in finding adequate care and housing for my GM. Over the span of 3 days I had a few verbal exchanges with 2 separate case workers that did not go well. Every time I asked for the names and # of some places fro me to go check out I was told it wasn't their responsibility that it was the families. On day 3, I was flat out told that if I didn't pick her up within an hour they were filing an abuse case against me with that govt agency that handles these things (not writing the name because who knows what hit I will get from it). So, fast forward to me getting my GM placed by the sheer grace of God and a friend's help to me calling and setting an appointment with the hospital's Risk Management (read: legal) department. I also called that govt agency on my own and discussed the hospital's handling of the situation. Their rep offered to go with me to the meeting. I'll call her Rep.
Now it's yesterday, we met at the hospital early, go to the Risk Mgmt office and the woman goes into a tirade that I am there the wrong day, she can't see me now, do I think I can show up whenever I want yadda yadda. I calmly state that I need to speak with someone this morning. If not her then someone else that I would appreciate her finding someone to hear me out. She has no idea who the woman with me is. She tells me I can meet with M and C, they run the Case worker dept. I had to insist that she call over to see if they were there, available and ask for directions. She unwillingly complied. Rep has not said a word this entire time. They don't know who she is. We find C and I introduce myself and start to introduce Rep when C interrupts me can calls for M to join us in the conf room. Fine. We all sit and they ask me why I am there. I pull out my notebook where I had all my notes of who I spoke to when and what was said. Rep is sitting quietly, they don't know who she is. They ask me some questions and we calmly and go over all the details. M, their immediate supervisor, apologizes and explains that they were in fact a bit abrupt with me, thank you for coming. Rep says, that's it? They were abrupt. C then asks me, "well exactly what do you and your mother want us to do?" AHA, I think. They think Rep is my mother. Rep tells them "I am not her mother" as she pulls out her business cards and hands them each one. Their eyes are as big as saucers. They excused themselves and step out of the room. The com back momentarily with a file. They apologize again and explain that their behavior did not follow their policies and standards and ask us to please be quiet as they call the 2nd case worker. We sat there as they called him and fired him over the phone! Told him not to come in the next day, to come in Monday for his final paycheck and they would go over the reasons then. They hung up, thanked us for coming and said their good-byes. Rep and I walked out and didn't speak until we got on the elevator. She said, WOW. I said, Dayum! They fired him! She said, I've never seen that. Me neither.
It's a day later and I am still a bit stunned by it. I actually feel bad for the guy even though he made me go through hell. I can only imagine that there were previous complaint or problems with him and maybe he was on probation or something because how could they just do that like that? WOW!
Friday, September 05, 2008
Life imitating art?
I had quite a chuckle yesterday when 18 called and said "Boy!, Did I think of you today! You will love what happened to me!"
He's been in NY for a while now and finally did his first load of laundry, actually it was 2 loads because according to him the machines there are smaller than the one at home. So fine, he separated his loads and started 2 machines with nary a care because there was no one else there. He leaves, goes up to the cafeteria for a snack and some tv watching. He's not in a hurry because again, there was no one there waiting for a machines or anything. He goes back 45 minutes later and freezes at the doorway. His mouth drops and he thinks OH CRAP! What did I do?! There was soapy water all over the floor, a machine sounded horrible and was spewing water and bubbles. Bubbles were everywhere! He thought he was walking into a cartoon. Freaking out and thinking OMG how did I break a machine? What did I do? He waded over to the bubbling machine and opened it to make it stop and was deliriously happy to realize that it wasn't his machine. He didn't break it. He's not an idiot. His clothes was fine. It was another machine that was broken.
Relieved. He found someone to clean up the mess and said he couldn't wait to tell me. Naturally I laughed hyterically and have told everyone.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
First Impressions
I will refer back to this trip in future posts but let me get some firsts out of the way.
First Impression of:
The town: This place is a dump. Where the heck am I leaving my kid? Why did he want to come here? ** Apparently, we drove into town through the poorest parts of town and to boot our hotel had an ick factor to it also.
The college campus: WOW, this is nice. Big enough and yet cozy in that small town way. ** We walked the whole thing - it's doable yet spacious.
The people on campus: made me smile and feel this is the right place for him. ** As we walked around we 'bumped' into a tour and I eaves dropped a bit. The former student spoke so well and with such pride and highlighted aspects that I thought described my son to a T.
The Coaches: made me want to stay and play football. ** We met 3 and they were all super personable. One recognized 18 as we walked over the the check-in area, stopped us, introduced himself and welcomed us very warmly and chatted with 18 for a few minutes. The head coach sat us down in his office and despite having I am sure 60 gallion things to do this 1st day checking everyone in spent a good 15 minutes chatting with us. During that visit 18s position coach walked in and introduced himself, remembering that he had spoken to me on the phone. All very nice.
The students: This feels right. ** As we made the trek up to the 4th floor by stair (no elevator) in his temporary dorm you could hear boys yelling at each other and welcoming each other back. All very nice. Then you hear a few expletives as a couple of them exchange greetings and the ones that crossed us on the stairs yell back "Language! Language! Parents in the house! Moms in the house!" and he apologized to me for the strong language saying '...sometime we get carried away' and then I hear a yell from the floor ahead 'Sorry mom! Sorry parents!' For whatever reason, that touched me. It hit me the right way. They obviously are close to each other and yet know there's a line of respect that shouldn't be crossed. I liked that. It made me think of my sons and their friends.
The people in town: I could live here if it weren't so friggin' cold most of the year. ** Everywhere we went everyone was so nice and friendly. EVERYONE! EVERYWHERE!
In the end I could understand the attraction to the school, the people and the place. He seemed happy, I was happy. It was all good.
First Impression of:
The town: This place is a dump. Where the heck am I leaving my kid? Why did he want to come here? ** Apparently, we drove into town through the poorest parts of town and to boot our hotel had an ick factor to it also.
The college campus: WOW, this is nice. Big enough and yet cozy in that small town way. ** We walked the whole thing - it's doable yet spacious.
The people on campus: made me smile and feel this is the right place for him. ** As we walked around we 'bumped' into a tour and I eaves dropped a bit. The former student spoke so well and with such pride and highlighted aspects that I thought described my son to a T.
The Coaches: made me want to stay and play football. ** We met 3 and they were all super personable. One recognized 18 as we walked over the the check-in area, stopped us, introduced himself and welcomed us very warmly and chatted with 18 for a few minutes. The head coach sat us down in his office and despite having I am sure 60 gallion things to do this 1st day checking everyone in spent a good 15 minutes chatting with us. During that visit 18s position coach walked in and introduced himself, remembering that he had spoken to me on the phone. All very nice.
The students: This feels right. ** As we made the trek up to the 4th floor by stair (no elevator) in his temporary dorm you could hear boys yelling at each other and welcoming each other back. All very nice. Then you hear a few expletives as a couple of them exchange greetings and the ones that crossed us on the stairs yell back "Language! Language! Parents in the house! Moms in the house!" and he apologized to me for the strong language saying '...sometime we get carried away' and then I hear a yell from the floor ahead 'Sorry mom! Sorry parents!' For whatever reason, that touched me. It hit me the right way. They obviously are close to each other and yet know there's a line of respect that shouldn't be crossed. I liked that. It made me think of my sons and their friends.
The people in town: I could live here if it weren't so friggin' cold most of the year. ** Everywhere we went everyone was so nice and friendly. EVERYONE! EVERYWHERE!
In the end I could understand the attraction to the school, the people and the place. He seemed happy, I was happy. It was all good.
Friday, August 08, 2008
Packing pains
You may be tired of reading about clothes and packing but you can't be as tired as I am actually dealing with the clothes and the packing. And so I continue to blog about it.
Based on the amount of clothes that 18 wants to take to college I was under the impression that he thinks he's moving into a mini-mansion with mega-closets. This lead us into a conversation which others may call an animated discussion including huffing, puffing, deep breathing, and eye rolling by both parties - yes I can act like I'm 18 too. He has always been very vain about what he wears and how he looks. For a while there he had more hair product that the other 3 people in the house combined until he found what works for him.
He finally enlightened me that he is fully aware that his dorm is going to be miniature in size and probably shared by 2 people. His plan is anything that doesn't fit in the closet or stacked on the "desk" or in the suitcase which he expects to fit under the bed will be neatly stacked on the floor around his bed. WELL! Lovely, as long as we have a plan!
I will let you know if any of this clothes comes back to Miami.
Then we had a 30 minutes discussion on how to pack the football cleats without "messing them up". Naturally, I hadn't realized that they were fragile because 1) they go on your feet 2) you play football with them and I hear that's a contact sport. They are going in the shoe part of the garment bag. He's taking 2 pairs. I had to put a pair IN the compartment to show him that they actually fit because apparently I have no clue how to handle cleats. Whatever! (best read with a rolling of the eyes)
Meanwhile recently 16 went to Cocoa Beach for a few days with some friends. He says that when they picked him up and he walked out with a backpack and a beach towel under his arm. They all asked him if that was ALL he was taking. Was he sure he had everything? He said yes and off they went. When they got to the hotel, they all compared what they took. He took the least amount of clothes. He did forget his running shoes to workout but he had others so he used those. The other boys questioned why he was bothering to put his clothes in the drawer. He told him because it's clean, as I wear it, I put it back in the bag and when we leave all my clothes should be back in the bag. They all did the same thing. He says that on Sunday when they were leaving, he only had one outfit that had not been worn which he took as an extra because you never know. They also teased him when they were talking about how they packed when he told them that his socks and underwear were in the pockets of each pair of shorts that he was going to wear to save space. That explains why he took a backpack and the others each had 2 bags and too much clothes.
So, at least one of them knows how to pack! I'll work on the other one. Gimme patience!
Based on the amount of clothes that 18 wants to take to college I was under the impression that he thinks he's moving into a mini-mansion with mega-closets. This lead us into a conversation which others may call an animated discussion including huffing, puffing, deep breathing, and eye rolling by both parties - yes I can act like I'm 18 too. He has always been very vain about what he wears and how he looks. For a while there he had more hair product that the other 3 people in the house combined until he found what works for him.
He finally enlightened me that he is fully aware that his dorm is going to be miniature in size and probably shared by 2 people. His plan is anything that doesn't fit in the closet or stacked on the "desk" or in the suitcase which he expects to fit under the bed will be neatly stacked on the floor around his bed. WELL! Lovely, as long as we have a plan!
I will let you know if any of this clothes comes back to Miami.
Then we had a 30 minutes discussion on how to pack the football cleats without "messing them up". Naturally, I hadn't realized that they were fragile because 1) they go on your feet 2) you play football with them and I hear that's a contact sport. They are going in the shoe part of the garment bag. He's taking 2 pairs. I had to put a pair IN the compartment to show him that they actually fit because apparently I have no clue how to handle cleats. Whatever! (best read with a rolling of the eyes)
Meanwhile recently 16 went to Cocoa Beach for a few days with some friends. He says that when they picked him up and he walked out with a backpack and a beach towel under his arm. They all asked him if that was ALL he was taking. Was he sure he had everything? He said yes and off they went. When they got to the hotel, they all compared what they took. He took the least amount of clothes. He did forget his running shoes to workout but he had others so he used those. The other boys questioned why he was bothering to put his clothes in the drawer. He told him because it's clean, as I wear it, I put it back in the bag and when we leave all my clothes should be back in the bag. They all did the same thing. He says that on Sunday when they were leaving, he only had one outfit that had not been worn which he took as an extra because you never know. They also teased him when they were talking about how they packed when he told them that his socks and underwear were in the pockets of each pair of shorts that he was going to wear to save space. That explains why he took a backpack and the others each had 2 bags and too much clothes.
So, at least one of them knows how to pack! I'll work on the other one. Gimme patience!
Monday, July 07, 2008
Failed Flan
I like to experiment and I often do so when company is coming over. I don't know why. Anyway, I have made flan numerous times but never in my pressure cooker. I was told that I could do this with one of THESE. It was given to me specifically for that reason. I was told that it could be done in the pressure cooker for 20 minutes vs. 45 minutes in the oven. That sounded good to me. Who wants to have the oven on in the summer?! So, I ventured to make my tried and true flan recipe in the pressure cooker. Now I need to ask the giver of the mold, 'How the heck and I supposed to get the mold out of the pressure cooker when it's done?" It's hot, it's a tight fit. Hubby and I tried we really did. We pulled out numerous utensils (and I have a lot) and tried to hook them under the top somehow and pull it up. All to no avail. Then we thought why don't we add more water and it will float up. HMmm. OK, of course as we do this the mold is wobbling back and forth and we both say out loud almost simultaneously, "Do you think the top will keep the water out? I guess we'll find out. " We kept trying to pull it out and finally we did. I popped the top off and the flan was flooded. We laughed. So, I dumped the water and flipped the flan anyway because I wanted to cut into and check the consistency in the middle and see if the 20 minutes was enough. I was a perfect consistency. So, the guests didn't get flan for dessert instead they got a story about it and some left over pound cake and ice cream. I'll get it right eventually with enough patience.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Mother's Day
It's always rough for the obvious reason of it's in my face that mom's not here. I get very melancholy and wistful this holiday.
I was recently asked by a friend who's father recently passed, How long does it take to get over it? I told him, I'll let you know as soon as I do. He just looked at me in quiet silence. Then asked, You mean I'm always going to hurt like this? No, I reassured him. It won't always hurt. There will be days it hurts to the point of crying and days that a memory is a comforting warm blanket that helps you through something. But you never forget. They never go away. At least that's how it is for me.
This mother's day, I got my cards, spent time with the extended family, went to my nephews' piano recital (it was lovely!), BBQd at SILs, called other moms and wished them a happy day. It was all perfectly nice. But in the back of my head, nagging at me all day, occasionally causing a lump in my throat was that I couldn't give my mom a hug, that she never met my kids, she would love sitting and telling them all the stupid things my brother and I did as kids and that she did too. Hell, it's making me cry as I type this.
I was recently asked by a friend who's father recently passed, How long does it take to get over it? I told him, I'll let you know as soon as I do. He just looked at me in quiet silence. Then asked, You mean I'm always going to hurt like this? No, I reassured him. It won't always hurt. There will be days it hurts to the point of crying and days that a memory is a comforting warm blanket that helps you through something. But you never forget. They never go away. At least that's how it is for me.
This mother's day, I got my cards, spent time with the extended family, went to my nephews' piano recital (it was lovely!), BBQd at SILs, called other moms and wished them a happy day. It was all perfectly nice. But in the back of my head, nagging at me all day, occasionally causing a lump in my throat was that I couldn't give my mom a hug, that she never met my kids, she would love sitting and telling them all the stupid things my brother and I did as kids and that she did too. Hell, it's making me cry as I type this.
Monday, May 05, 2008
Track Meet Stuff
We had a great time. Here are a few highlights:
* 3 of out boys got medalled in their events. We came in 15th out of over 65 schools. We had no injuries.
* A new state record was set in pole vaulting at 17'6". It was really cool to watch the entire stadium watching this boy, oohhhing and ahhhing and cheering him on. They stopped all the other events so that everyone could watch him.
* One of our coaches drank the other coach's contacts and chaos ensued. C1 didn't bring a case and so he left his contacts in a glass with saline solution. C2 half asleep in the morning grabbed said cup put water in it, drank his meds and left the glass on the counter empty! He left for the park with a group of students who had to register earlier. C1, who is basically blind without his contact, couldn't find the glass, the phone calls started to find his Dr., get the prescription faxed, go buy glasses, get kids to where they needed to be, get C2 to buy his glass. Good thing that a bunch of us parents went and there were extra cars and drivers.
* At dinner I almost yelled out to one of the kids "Let me eat your cherry!" but I caught myself at Let me and rephrased to "Are you going to eat the cherry on your sundae? No? May I have it please?" Whew! It was really close.
* I got the mother of all sinus headaches while I was there and went to get Sudafed. Did you know that now that particular decongestant is regulated and they were just shy of asking me for a blood sample to buy it. Apparently, it's used to make some street drug. Who knew!? not me!
All in all it was a good weekend. We all had fun and came home tired and happy.
* 3 of out boys got medalled in their events. We came in 15th out of over 65 schools. We had no injuries.
* A new state record was set in pole vaulting at 17'6". It was really cool to watch the entire stadium watching this boy, oohhhing and ahhhing and cheering him on. They stopped all the other events so that everyone could watch him.
* One of our coaches drank the other coach's contacts and chaos ensued. C1 didn't bring a case and so he left his contacts in a glass with saline solution. C2 half asleep in the morning grabbed said cup put water in it, drank his meds and left the glass on the counter empty! He left for the park with a group of students who had to register earlier. C1, who is basically blind without his contact, couldn't find the glass, the phone calls started to find his Dr., get the prescription faxed, go buy glasses, get kids to where they needed to be, get C2 to buy his glass. Good thing that a bunch of us parents went and there were extra cars and drivers.
* At dinner I almost yelled out to one of the kids "Let me eat your cherry!" but I caught myself at Let me and rephrased to "Are you going to eat the cherry on your sundae? No? May I have it please?" Whew! It was really close.
* I got the mother of all sinus headaches while I was there and went to get Sudafed. Did you know that now that particular decongestant is regulated and they were just shy of asking me for a blood sample to buy it. Apparently, it's used to make some street drug. Who knew!? not me!
All in all it was a good weekend. We all had fun and came home tired and happy.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
I'm not nosey...I just care!
OK, maybe this in nothing and it probably isn't anything but it's getting to me. I realize I don't ask about everyone all the time. I mean I would spend half an hour asking you about everyone and we wouldn't talk about anything! I just expect to be told about whatever thing is happening to whoever I need to know about because you know who I know and well let's back up a little shall we.
When something is going on in my life or in the life of one close to me whether that thing is good or bad I tell certain people about it; my support group, if you will. I keep in touch with people, I believe in the power of positive thinking and in prayer. So, I spread the word. I don't rent a billboard but I tell a few choice people. Why? Because they care. At least I thought so. Because they are my friends. At least I thought so. Maybe we have different definitions of friends. But there are my "GoTo" people. I thought I was one of their "GoTo" people too. But I am finding out that more than one of these people recently had a parent hospitalized for testing or procedures and I didn't know about it. Maybe I'm not one of their GoTo people, I guess I don't have to be. Wow, I feel like I just told somebody I love them and they don't say it back -which has happened to me too. Maybe they don't realize I care. Maybe I need to ask. Maybe they just don't want me to know. Maybe I need to let this go.
When something is going on in my life or in the life of one close to me whether that thing is good or bad I tell certain people about it; my support group, if you will. I keep in touch with people, I believe in the power of positive thinking and in prayer. So, I spread the word. I don't rent a billboard but I tell a few choice people. Why? Because they care. At least I thought so. Because they are my friends. At least I thought so. Maybe we have different definitions of friends. But there are my "GoTo" people. I thought I was one of their "GoTo" people too. But I am finding out that more than one of these people recently had a parent hospitalized for testing or procedures and I didn't know about it. Maybe I'm not one of their GoTo people, I guess I don't have to be. Wow, I feel like I just told somebody I love them and they don't say it back -which has happened to me too. Maybe they don't realize I care. Maybe I need to ask. Maybe they just don't want me to know. Maybe I need to let this go.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Tips: College
I had no idea that you could talk to the Financial Aid office and negotiate! Well, I did it. Tell everyone you know. This is the best kept secret (as far as I'm concerned) about paying for college. I got them to increase his scholarship. AMAZING!!!!
#1: Apply to anywhere you want to go even if financially is it out of your reach. If you get accepted the school will put together a package so that you can afford it.
#2: Apply to more than one school. Most applications ask you to list what other schools you are applying to. If they don't have any competition they are less likely to be in a hurry to accept you.
#3: Ask questions. I have spoken to the FinAid office of 3 very different schools and they are very nice, helpful and willing to answer questions and help educate you on the process.
#4: Fill out the FAFSA (the govt. financial aid form) which ALL the schools use early. Scholarship $ gets given away fast. It's a first come first serve type of deal.
#5: Negotiate! Call, walk thru the numbers with them. I flat out told her, look I can't afford the gap. He simply can't go because the cost is prohibitive. She worked with me and I got and additional 15% in scholarship $. My son is going to the school he wants which is waaaay out of my reach and his aid package comes out to 75% of the cost. The cost not tuition, annual cost, that includes room & board, meals, books, incidentals and a couple trips home.
I did this yesterday and I feel like I won the lottery!
#1: Apply to anywhere you want to go even if financially is it out of your reach. If you get accepted the school will put together a package so that you can afford it.
#2: Apply to more than one school. Most applications ask you to list what other schools you are applying to. If they don't have any competition they are less likely to be in a hurry to accept you.
#3: Ask questions. I have spoken to the FinAid office of 3 very different schools and they are very nice, helpful and willing to answer questions and help educate you on the process.
#4: Fill out the FAFSA (the govt. financial aid form) which ALL the schools use early. Scholarship $ gets given away fast. It's a first come first serve type of deal.
#5: Negotiate! Call, walk thru the numbers with them. I flat out told her, look I can't afford the gap. He simply can't go because the cost is prohibitive. She worked with me and I got and additional 15% in scholarship $. My son is going to the school he wants which is waaaay out of my reach and his aid package comes out to 75% of the cost. The cost not tuition, annual cost, that includes room & board, meals, books, incidentals and a couple trips home.
I did this yesterday and I feel like I won the lottery!
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Ham
Not the lunch meat but the chimp. Remember him from high school history class? He was the first chimp in outerspace. The Americans sent him up in 1961. I know you have a vague recollection. Anyway, my son is taking him to Close-Up next week. Unwrinkle your forhead and I will explain.
Close-up is a week long trip he is taking with school to DC to do various activities to see learn the workings of our government. He is leaving on Sunday. He has a teacher who apparently loved Ham the Chimp as a kid and has a stuffed Ham now. Ham has traveled to many places but has never gone to Close-Up and 18 is taking him. He will take pictures of him at the various places they go to document the trip and is hoping that when he meets our Representatives he can get them to pose with Ham. This is his goal for the trip. I am gushing with pride. A week long field trip in DC in an election year to learn the what's what and he wants to get snazzy pictures of a stuffed chimp. I have paid thousands of dollars for his private school education people, thousands! I'm just hoping he learns more than Ham does. Gimme patience!
Close-up is a week long trip he is taking with school to DC to do various activities to see learn the workings of our government. He is leaving on Sunday. He has a teacher who apparently loved Ham the Chimp as a kid and has a stuffed Ham now. Ham has traveled to many places but has never gone to Close-Up and 18 is taking him. He will take pictures of him at the various places they go to document the trip and is hoping that when he meets our Representatives he can get them to pose with Ham. This is his goal for the trip. I am gushing with pride. A week long field trip in DC in an election year to learn the what's what and he wants to get snazzy pictures of a stuffed chimp. I have paid thousands of dollars for his private school education people, thousands! I'm just hoping he learns more than Ham does. Gimme patience!
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