ends and beginnings

I was most distressed to learn of the permanent closing of Mission Falls. It's been a staple of my yarn stash, and I particularly love their colors, which are rather muted and earth-toned, and blend together so nicely. So in my mourning, look what I collected on Friday, much to the detriment of my checking account:



This is something like 20 skeins of the superwash wool, at 30% off. My friends and family are likely to be receiving a plentiful number of hats and mittens this Christmas. (sniff). I am still sad that they have closed. I especially liked their pattern books. :-(

And on a completely different topic, I share the official photo of the 2005/06 bus stop gang simply because it is so darned cute, especially as it grows in number each year.



I particularly love Dylan's expression (the preschooler). He's one bad dude, he is.

sensory experience

I must have been Italian in a past life. Truly. Or maybe I should just chuck it in and move over there now.

We had our lovely friends Jamie and Jamie over this weekend for dinner - an Italian dinner. I made bruschetta with fresh tomatoes, soft mozzarella, red onion, olive oil and balsamic vinegar on toasted slices of bread. We started with the famous lentil soup with toasted fennel and andouille sausage from the recipe from our local Italian restaurant, Guiseppe's. (check out the pictures of Guiseppe's - it's so cool.) The entree was spinach and cheese calzone from the Moosewood cookbook. The salad was baby spinach and mixed greens with baby peas, sprinkled with lemon and olive oil. It was heaven, if I do say so myself. But I believe I enjoy the preparation even more than eating it.

I was in the kitchen, with onion and garlic sauteing on the stove, mincing fresh spinach leaves and basil, with the calzone dough rising in a bowl by the stove, and I stopped to just take in every single sense. Smell was easy - especially the freshly cut basil and the simmering onion and garlic. Sight was lovely - a countertop cluttered with fresh greens, a block of cheese on the cutting board, and a bowl of red tomatoes and purple onion. Sound was nice - the sizzling of the onions, and a good CD playing in the background. Touch was also easy - the feel of a heavy knife in one hand, and the cool spinach in the other. Taste would have been perfect if I'd had my normal glass of red wine whilst cooking, but I was holding back so I could have a glass (or two) with dinner. Ahhh. I tell you, I do think I am Italian somewhere in my past.

I am re-reading "Under the Tuscan Sun" and it's wonderful. I can feel the hot Tuscan sun, taste the fresh fruits and vegetables, see the huge old house with the long table outside under the trees filled with food and wine. I go there every time I open the book, and I can only read it in little chunks. Too much is like gorging on a good dinner.

I would have been a great chef...or at least a very happy one.

nutritious day

Today was a "good mommy" food day. For breakfast, my kids got hot oatmeal (well OK, it was the pre-packaged quick cinnamon-bun flavored variety but still...) and a bagel with cream cheese, and orange juice or milk. For their lunches (first packed lunch of the school year!) they received mini-pitas, which are very cute, by the way, stuffed with pastromi and cheddar, carrot and celery sticks and cherry tomatoes with ranch dressing, red grapes, 2 cookies and water. Their snacks were pop-corn, cheese sticks and yogurt, and for dinner I am making them pork chops with broccoli couscous and buttered broccoli. Aren't I good? It's quite the change from the end of last school year when I was throwing in chips and sweets and juice into their lunches after the sugar-laden popular cereals in the morning and hot dogs or Sonic hamburgers for supper.

normalcy in the midst of tragedy

School starts tomorrow. I spent the last two days frantically plowing through Q and E's rooms - picture a comic strip with a blur of rotating arms throwing piles of trash and outgrown clothes and toys into various piles, all amidst a flurry of dust. That was pretty much the picture. Now the kids both have tidy rooms and desks with (gasp) enough space to do homework on. They both have clothes to wear until winter, at which point we'll go shopping again. They both have their school supplies either stored away at school in their cubbies or in their packs to take tomorrow. I have lunch supplies stocked in the pantry and fridge. They have their piles of forms filled out and signed (DH's contribution). Do you know he actually made Q read the use of computer rules? He's got to be the only 4th grader in the state who has made his way through that legalese. Me: "Hey sweetie, how's it going with that?" Q: "My head hurts!!! This doesn't make much sense!!" Ha. No kidding.

And the whole time I'm walking around with a pit in my stomach that is New Orleans. I want to throw up. I want to go to sleep and pretend it's not true. Nope. Not possible. You cannot wipe out an entire city of the U.S. in a matter of a day. It cannot be possible that my fellow citizens have been living in a cesspool of toxic, foul water, surrounded by feces and decaying dead bodies. Not possible. Not here. Not today. Not possible that although we have known for years and years that this would happen that we were so surprised by it that recovery efforts were for the most part non-existant for several days. (Several days that meant death for a lot of those folks). We're not this stupid really, are we?

And then we get into the whole blue/red, Republican/Democrat, you/me, finger pointing, it's your fault thing. I'm mad - just like everyone else with any compassion at all. I'm mad and lashing out and because I'm a raving liberal, it's easy for me to find things that the reviled Bush administration has done wrong. I will spout off about it to just about anyone because I am SO MAD. But what makes me even more mad (or maybe just sad is the more appropriate word) is the lack of communication - the failure to find any common ground...the missed opportunity to focus on what is wrong and fix it. No one will TALK to me about this!! I want to know why this isn't the fault of the federal government. TELL ME why this should have been the domain of local and state governments, where they failed. Stop telling me that I'm a typical blue dot in a red state with a big chip on my shoulder. TELL ME who could have done what better. I'm not pretending to understand all this. I actually really care that so many people have died a horrific death because of this hurricane, and I honestly want to know who screwed up. It's not like this scenario was a surprise. National Geographic wrote a story a year ago that eerily describes what happened. WHO WASN'T READY???!!

I belong to a 10 year old parenting email list that is somewhat diverse politically and religiously and even we can't talk about this. We have dissolved into name-calling and nah-nah's and "I'm not going to talk to you anymore" before any real communication has taken place. Before telling me I am wrong, tell me *why* I am wrong. I desperately want someone to look me in the eye and say calmly, "but have you thought about why..." When did we become so divided here in America that communication has stopped? Why are we "us" and "them"? I despise Bush and his energy-loving, money-loving cronies, make no mistake about that. But even more than that, I despise that we have forgotten that the goal is to make things work. We've made the goal to win. And even in the face of this horrific tragedy, we are tallying up who has won more points.

Has it always been this way? When did the media finally succeeded in making our lives here a big made-for-TV movie, a big superbowl game? Do you think the rescue helicopters are going to start showing up with corporate logos blazened across them?

I don't know what's going to happen, but it's going to be ugly ugly ugly. America is feeling very generous and loving right now. But what about...oh say, 2 years from now when a lot of these 100,000+ families STILL do not have permanent housing. Will we be as generous then, or will they become welfare cases and an ugly thorn in our sides? You know, Hurricane Isabel hit this area 2 years ago and a few families are still trying to rebuild now. That was such a tiny disaster compared to Katrina. The recovery from Katrina will be going on for a very long time and will likely outlast the compassion of most people. What an ugly blot this is already becoming on our history.

And yet, life goes on. I throw open my windows at night and turn off the air-conditioning to let in the cool newly-coming fall nighttime air and the sounds of crickets. I poor a glass of red wine and sip it while splayed out on my couch watching a movie. I throw out piles of left over dinner that my kids didn't eat. They each take baths in tubs full of good, clean water, and come out smelling sweet and clean and are comfy in their t-shirts and slicked back freshly-shampooed hair. I get hugs goodnight and kisses and then clean the dinner dishes and plan for my errands tomorrow. And all the time, the pit in my stomach reminds me that not all that far away, about half a million of my neighbors are feeling lucky to be alive, are wondering where their sisters are, and are starting to realize that despite the utter exhaustion and the feeling that this can't be real life, they are going to have to start over tomorrow and figure out their lives all over again. Everything they have ever known is gone. Gone. And meanwhile the country is busy name-calling and watching hour-long TV specials that ask why black people are described as looting while whites are described as finding food. We are a mess. I thought we had come farther than this., Tragedies like this have a way of exposing your unhealed scars, don't they?

moving on

Last night, after the kids had baths and brushed teeth, Q and I were cuddled up together on the couch watching some silly show on TV. His head was on a pillow on my chest so I could smell his freshly washed hair, and as we were just there being mom and son, I had the thought: "I'm halfway done with him." He's 9, and in 9 more years, he'll be on his way to college and a legal adult (well - able to vote and join the military but not drink which is a whole 'nother rant). I was lying there and nuzzling his little boy tousled hair thinking that right now, I am his everything. I am the center of his world. He is old enough to be a unique, thinking, intelligent person with wonderful thoughts of his own, and I am still his world. He loves me beyond reason right now, this amazing person. And my job for the next half of my time with him is to make it OK for him to stop. From here on out, I will become less and less of his world. My job is to make sure that I start to disappear. He is supposed to start needing me less and needing others more. The times when I am the first person he wants to share his joys with, and when I am the one he needs and calls for when he is scared - these times are almost done. When he doesn't need me like this anymore, I will know I have done my job well. This job is the most heart wrenching and most wonderful job I have ever known. When he is grown and a man with his own family and life and ambitions, I will be so proud and happy, though a part of me will mourn the loss of the baby/child that orbits me now. But I suspect we are wired such that the bigger part of me will know that the moving on is natural and right and good. It's all OK. Isn't it?

evidence of autumn

I've figured out why I'm having such a hard time with the heat this August (other than the obvious reason which is that we're having a very HOT August). I am already in school mode. I had a meeting tonight with last year's treasurer of the PTA because I was kind enough to volunteer to do it this year. We've already had one PTA board meeting and will have another on Wednesday this week. So I'm already in the mode of thinking back-to-school night, fall carnival, and fundraisers. Similarly, we're moving into fall-mode with my religious education committee at UU. I finish up my summertime curriculum of Harry Potter in 2 weeks so we're starting to plan the fall ice cream social and the autumn curriculum. In several areas of my life, I've moved into autumn, yet it's still 97 degrees outside. Thus, my objection.

The weekends filled up this summer. I couldn't tell you with what, but they did. I didn't get to do my tour of the state with the kids like I'd planned. I didn't restart my reading binge or start my exercise binge.

But all is well. The kids swam and went to Busch Gardens and the beach, and we had lots of cookouts and visited with grandparents and cousins. So I'd say it was a success overall.
And see? Here I go again, acting as if it's over with a somewhat wistful review of the season. We still have 3 weeks until school starts. It's not too late to pull out those Pilates or Yoga tapes after all! Yeehah.

exhausted rant

I'm punishing this poor 41 year old body by trying to act like a teenager again. We had a sleepover last night - not just my kids, but ME. Q and E's babysitter Paige invited over my family and two others for a barbeque/campout/sleepover. The kids ran wild playing with the chickens and llamas and we all sweltered in the heat and had cold beer and hamburgers and ice cream. The dads ended up out in the tents camping out with the young ones whil we moms sat inside and talked until 3:30 am. Nope, I haven't done *that* in a while, and for good reason, apparently, says this tired body. Then I had to get up at a reasonable hour to run the Harry Potter Quiddich Tournament at UU this morning. And again with the heat... Visions of skiing out at Bryce Mountain keep popping up in my head in a poor attempt to keep myself sane. I'm about to spend the afternoon napping and knitting while I let my kids play gameboys ALL AFTERNOON.

I ended up with lots of things to think about with respect to the kids' school after our late night conversation. I am so naive. It's a little bothersome that I just don't see a lot of the more ugly things that are out there. I have a tendency to explain them away as a defect of my own observation. There are a lot of troubled kids out there, you know, even in our school. Some of the stories Paige can tell (she subs up at the school) are just so sad. Kids learn how to be mean really young. I worry for Q and his fast temper and lack of emotional control because he could so easily be a target for some mean kid, and I worry for E that she'll BECOME one of the mean kids. All I can do is just keep swimming. Middle School....AAAAHHHH!!!! Just keep swimming...

I read an update on the bad man in the woods in the local paper. The disturbing thing is this is not some whacko that ended up around here - he *lives* here. Drunk and waving a gun around - lovely. Thank you NRA. We are all so much safer now knowing that idiots like this guy can buy guns. I've been thinking a lot about how nice it would be to live somewhere like Madison or Berkeley where I'd at least have some connection with most of the residents. As it is now, I have my little enclave of like-minded friends and we comfort each other and wonder why the average person around here is so afraid to think for themselves. Everyone happily spouts the administration's party line and then feels safe because they are "AMERICANS". Gaaa. Forget Madison or Berkeley. Maybe I need to consider a move to France. I can take differences of opinion. What I cannot take is support for an administration that is baseless in fact. How can they not *SEE* what is happening? Just put on those blinders and feel good because you're in the reight. (heh, that was a typo I just couldn't correct).

Well there's my political rant for the week. See what exhaustion does to me?

E: "There's a bad man in the woods!"

Yesterday was somewhat interesting. Friend K called in the afternoon to let me know that the police were chasing some guy in a purple shirt carrying a gun, who ran out of a neighboring subdivision and into the woods bordering our subdivision. They closed off our entry road and got the dogs to track him down. Woo. I had L over playing with E so I locked all the doors and kept the kids inside. About 3 hours later I heard they caught him. Now curiosity is just killing me. What the h*ll was *that* all about???

I've added a new favorite wine to my personal list: McWilliams Harwood Estate Cabernet (and Shiraz). It's (naturally) Australian. Very very tasty and inexpensive to boot. I just can't get off of the Australian wines. Kathreen (from South Africa) swears that if I like Australian reds so much I'd love South African wines too, but I have yet to really start trying them.

Do I drink too much wine? Mom worries. DH does not. Since they are usually in agreement over most things of importance I'm not sure what to think. I did check on the internet, and found a website here that lists the recommended safe levels of standard drinks per day by country. Let's just say I'd best be moving to France. Here in the US I'm a lush. There, I'm just your run of the mill wine-swilling gal.

Happy, worried, good

Friend K brought this bracelet back for me from their vacation in Minnesota - how cool is that!!??

Our friends Jamie and Jamie are back from their 3 month trip too. We went over to their house last night for about 5 hours and drank wine to toast their brand new house and the kids ran around in the woods in the dark trying to scare each other. Friends are what make my world.

Which brings me to my current worries about my kids (there's always something). Q is back to his old ways of fighting with anyone that comes in his path. He's not physical (other than "accidental" mild pushes and such) so I guess I should be glad about that. He's just crabby and no fun to be around. He was horrible to Paige, his babysitter yesterday. He fights with E constantly. He has some great friends, but I told him they're not going to want to hang out with him when he treats them so rudely. In general, he's improved, but over the last few weeks, he's had a big backslide. Guess I shouldn't worry so much, but when do you know when these behaviors are just phases and when he needs a little extra help to help him deal with his strong emotions? I've got the names of two counselors that have been recommended to me by other moms. I may need to give them a call.

This is a picture of my latest knitting project for my new niece Sarah Beth (5 weeks old). I got to hold her last weekend, and she is a sweetie - all warm and sweet smelling. I love babies.

Oh, and update on the poster saga. Gao and I took the sparkling nice poster printed by my coworker Larry and the sucky poster printer by the professional service provided by Langley to all employees back to Graphics to show them the difference. I was very polite and told them that I would like to use their services, and was letting them know the print quality I needed. You know what I was told? "Well, we're not in the business of printing posters and we don't really care if you take your business somewhere else." Bah!?? We went straight to our branch head and nailed that guy. He's wrong. His company is being PAID to provide a service to us and obviously he is unable to provide it. The real story is that he's an "artist" and really wants to be designing our posters for us. No. Way. Like he would understand the science points I'm trying to get across. Anyway. Things are good. I've got a nice poster to take up to New Hampshire and I was very professional in dealing with this whole thing.

Problems printing powerpoint poster - please perfect process

I really don't like conflict very much. I don't think I do, anyway.

I'm getting ready to go to a data workshop meeting next week in New Hampshire for the latest airborne mission we've done. I did my poster in powerpoint (3ft x 5 ft) and took it to the graphics lab to be printed. Basically, it sucked. It was blurry and you could hardly make out some of my data plots. I took it back to show them, and was told that they only print out what we give them, and that power point is difficult for them to print. I was prepared. I showed them a poster my officmate had done (by them) in powerpoint that was nice and sharp. So then it was because my file must have been of poor resolution. (This is a NASA graphics lab. The incompetence is mind-boggling).

So I took the same file to a coworker who printed it out on his large printer because he's just a nice guy, and of course it looked fabulous and clear and you could actually make out the data points on my figures. Jim and Gao are telling me I need to take this new sparkling poster and the sucky one that graphics did over to graphics tomorrow to show them. They're right - I need to let them know that if they want our business they have to up their quality. But the guy who I'd have to talk to is someone I know and he's a total jerk. So he will take it personally and end up making me uncomfortable and then mad, and then I'll go and spout of something that I'll regret. But I've got to be a big girl and just go do it. Bleah.

And for anyone who has heard my vents about powerpoint, yes I used it. But it was to prepare a poster presentation, not a bullet-laden oral presentation. :-)

I'm looking forward to the meeting. I do feel like I've got at least a basic understanding of some of the issues with this latest mission so I can hold semi-intelligent conversations. I should see some old friends there, as well, and I'm positive Gao will take us to Chauncey's Creek Lobster Pier in Kittery Maine, where he recommended that DH and I stop by on our 10th anniversary trip to Maine last fall. We did, and yes it deserves all the praise. Beautiful scenary - you eat outside on a pier over a river, and the lobster was fantastic. And we'll have a clam bake at the meeting one night too. Oh, I love shellfish. It may just be the butter for dipping that I love, but regardless, I'm anxious to dig into lobster with a cold beer. I love New England.