Happy New Year--No More Unemployment?

Now there's a headline to beat all! Unfortunately it's happening right now in my little corner of the universe. Our state's governor is calling for an internal audit of the state agency responsible for managing disbursement of unemployment benefits before he approves further funding for the unemployed of the state. The governor's take is that apparently this agency feels they're exempt from the budgetary cuts facing ALL state agencies (including the one that pays MY salary) & they should just allow the audit of their finances before he consents to give them any more money.

While I'm grateful not to be one of the unfortunate ones affected by this, I have mixed feelings. If there's nothing to hide, why not go ahead with the audit so the funding will continue beyond today? I've received those bennies in the past (& have NO desire to ever do so again), but it seems unfortunate that those who are making a sincere effort to find work & having no luck should be penalized by what appears to be a bickering match between agency heads & the governor's office.

I'm grateful that my husband & I HAVE jobs in the current economic climate!

Ruby Slippers Here, Please!

I often joke I live on Planet X, a reference to a Loony Tunes cartoon in which Duck Dodgers travels past an alphabetical series of unexplored planets. Such logic perhaps fits, as I live in the 40th state alphabetically speaking; after an 11 hour drive home, I've reinforced my belief that I live near the outer limits of the known universe! At any rate, living where I do makes me pay attention to anything "new" (to me) while visiting family up north. Among bumper stickers that caught my eye were two relatively old ones I've never seen down here: "Save the TaTas" with a pink ribbon (seen on US 301 in MD) & "Coexist" on a blue field (seen on the Jersey Turnpike).

The weather the night of our roughly 16 hour drive north (made longer by the snow north of NYC) had friends concerned for our safety. What can I say? It's December & snow/ice are seasonal risks! Thankfully the worst road conditions we encountered were not as severe as the worst we've ever driven in, though briefly considered checking in to see if we could crash at the home of a friend in our hometown. Those less than ideal conditions were at their worst at the southern end of I-684 in New York (before we encountered three plows we followed almost to I-84) & within a few miles of my brother's home in Connecticut. The final irony is all that snow MELTED by the time we headed to NYC on the 27th due to daytime highs in the 50s on 12/26!

It was refreshing to catch up with family & friends, including a few we encountered unexpectedly & most fortunately while on a walk with a friend in the town where we grew up. The girls got a kick out of seeing Times Square & Rockefeller Center, including all the Saks 5th Avenue window displays playing up the new Swarovski crystal star atop the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree & the snowflake sound & light show on the wall of Saks facing 30 Rock. As we were leaving Rockefeller Center a gentleman had the ice cleared in order to propose to his girlfriend, who accepted & was cheered by the throngs gathered to watch skaters & see the tree. It was fun to show the kids around NYC, including taking local buses & the Flushing line from what was my early childhood neighborhood in Queens into Manhattan. Unfortunately, our youngest was not feeling her best that night, still fighting a stomach bug even as we drove home yesterday & just now appears to feel more normal than she has since Christmas Eve. Still, she insisted she wasn't going to miss this rare opportunity to go into the city & see things she told her classmates she'd be photographed in front of!

Next trip I think I'll just borrow Dorothy's ruby slippers from The Wizard of Oz--much faster!

Mental Health Break

Yes, it's been cold up north while we've been celebrating the holidays. And yes, the break from the sultry swamp in Dixie has been invigorating and mind-clearing. Seeing a few old friends has helped my spirit a great deal--I don't get to enjoy this often! Hubby and I took a brisk (as in WINDY!) walk with my parents' chocolate lab yesterday up Walnut Hill (abuts the back of my brother's property) to savor the chilly air, the view, and most of all the time away from our four kids & the extended family.

I find myself determined anew to mind the nutrition of myself, hubby, and the two children still at home (the older ones are away at college). I calculated this morning after hitting the YMCA with my eldest & found I could get down to my personal goal weight if I plan to lose 1.5 lbs per week between now & next Christmas. I've already told my youngest, who suffered through a stomach bug on Christmas Eve & yesterday, that portion control is going to be the name of the game from here on out in the interest of all our health. She's not happy, but I think she'll appreciate it when her swimming times start dropping because there's less of her to move through the water.

Keep me in your thoughts & zip me some encouragement when I flag in my dedication, as I know I will at times!

With Apologies to Clement Clark Moore

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
(Which is good, because they're dirty!)
The stockings were removed from the chimney with care
And filled with goodies which might melt if left there.
The boys were at the cinema with their cousins,
The girls were relaxing after interstate traversing.
Papa was a-snooze, snoring on the sofa bed
Mama made brandied hard sauce, then blogged before bed.
When out in the vestibule a noise sounded,
From the 'puter I immediately bounded.
'Twas my parents returning from the midnight mass
But not yet the boys--how long did that movie last?
The house lights shone out on the melting snow
Giving the luster of morning to the fog on the blow.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But my nieces and sons, eyes all a-blear.
"It's foggy out there," they solemnly pronounced.
"I warned you," I reminded them, "it's a long ride 'twixt the houses!"
More slowly than snails the car traveled out
As my nieces set off toward their own house.
"Now this way, now that way, now go to the left.
Turn right next and go 'til you enter Route 8.
From the start of the ramp to the I-84
Now dash away, dash away, carefully toward home!"
As wild leaves before the hurricane fly
When they meet with an obstacle mount to the sky
So too did my nieces flee the foggy northwest
Of the state toward their home toward the southwest.

Too much work to do the rest of the poem! Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

Homecomings

It's been a busy week between packing & traveling from the sultry Southern swamp to the Great White North. No, we're not staying in the town where we grew up, but I feel heartily welcomed anyway. So far, people have been kind & cheery in every store I've been in & even at the YMCA this morning the staff was polite, though they couldn't get my 9 year old competitive swimmer any water time before we head back south. (So she gets a real vacation from EVERYTHING!)

We had to alter some plans due to weather considerations, but aside from that it looks like all's well & I hope it continues to be so. Hubby has immersed himself in a home improvement project my brother's progress has been stalled on. It's a bear to scrape up old wallpaper, but when you're also working numerous overtime hours plowing snow, it's well nigh impossible! My sister in law was thrilled that my 9 year old got her 2 year old cousin busy decorating cookies with her yesterday long enough for SIL to take a shower in peace. My parents' dog goes out with the kids every time they venture into the white stuff; he's a chocolate lab & loves to tunnel under it while the kids are riding a toboggan.

My youngest (the 9 year old), who last spent a Christmas up north when she was about 2, has received quite the firsthand education about dressing warmly, driving carefully, & why salt is spread everywhere on the roads. She also witnessed plows sparking against pavement while we drove farther north of NYC & closer to my brother's home, which worried her at first. She was elated to get out of the car at the Connecticut welcome center & wanted to make a snow angel right then & there, even though it was about midnight & I was sure it'd be snowed over by morning. (I convinced her to wait until we arrived at our destination in the northern part of the state.)

iFeliz Navidad!

Biding my Time

Two days down, two to go at work. Fortunately, I'm nearly caught up on my documentation & other paperwork, so it's just a matter of sitting down with the boss for a time Thursday to give her the last moment updates. :) I'm getting familiar with my newest client child, a very young autistic boy, and also learning much about how autism works. This'll be a learning experience for all of us; we've had very few children with similar diagnoses heretofore. And of course the condition varies from person to person, so even though I've worked with a teenager diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome before, she was vastly different from this child who also has developmental delays on top of the autism.

Meanwhile my mind is about 500 miles away with my eldest & my parents, all traversing the river & zooming through the woods to our Christmas holiday destination via the inland route instead of Interstate 95. By now they've nearly left Maryland behind for Pennsylvania, and thence they proceed to NJ, NY, & CT. White Christmas, here we come!

Important Milestone

If I were counting, this one would number somewhere in the billions, no doubt--as all parents will recognize & understand. My eldest is now an adult (age 21). Does that somehow free me from responsibility for him? Of course not--he's still my son & even when he's 50 he'll be my baby. ;) However, it's satisfying to know he's come through the toddler & school years more or less unscathed. He isn't far from completing his undergraduate studies (within 18 months, hopefully sooner depending on when required courses for his major are offered).

I've heard it before, but it bears repeating: Parenthood is the only job you work your way out of, at least ideally!

Happy birthday L!

Gluttony

This evening my teenaged daughter hosted a party for about a dozen (!) of her friends. The truly unusual piece of this is that when my older children have invited that many buddies over, we've been fortunate if HALF of the invitees showed up, so it was a shock to be invaded by THAT MANY eighth graders. (And I've already told her--NEVER AGAIN!)

As I write this, the birthday boy of tomorrow is lounging in the living room with about six of his friends and the entire group is decamping to another friend's home shortly. Meanwhile, the youngest is crying the blues about not being able to sleep due to the noise from the teenagers vs. the quiet conversation of the collegiate crowd.

I know, we have a larger number of children than many--hubby and I are both quite fond of youngsters, to the point that our careers as well as our personal lives revolve around youngsters. But I think the gang of 12 13 year olds qualifies us as gluttons for punishment. Who would challenge that?

Saturdays are for sleeping in...?

Does anyone else besides me remember doing this as a kid: you'd get up tired on school mornings, then bounding out of bed at 6:00 a.m. on Saturday to watch cartoons, & remaining vegged out there (except for eating breakfast) until, oh, 11:00 a.m or noon?

This morning found hubby and myself awake, alert, & energetic at the ungodly hour of 4:35 a.m. Rather than stay in bed, we got up to fuel up the woodstove, do the supper dishes our children never did last night, and basically have some Q-time with each other before he had to leave for work shortly after 7:00. It never occurred to me to check out the Saturday morning kids' TV extravaganzas because I can't stand half the children's programming that's on nowadays--give me some old Bullwinkle, Underdog, or Flintstones episodes instead of the standard fare that somehow HAS to include Miley Cyrus! :P (My personal opinion only--she's talented, but enough is as good as a feast.)

However, despite not sleeping late, I managed to score a major coup at JC Penney's--my 9 year old needed some pants & got them, plus a pair of rhinestone-studded jeans for the holidays, for (get this) UNDER $20.00 thanks to the $10.00 off coupon I had! Woo hoo!

Serenity Amidst Chaos

Well, I don't know about anyone else, but I think I've come as close as possible to achieving it at work in advance of the Christmas holidays. A child who had to move did so today; another whose medications are in flux is being evaluated by her former psychiatrist again, & I've managed to see every one of the youngsters in my caseload at least once. :) Yay, me!

Now I just need to ensure that the outstanding issues (what few major ones there are at this point) are resolved or on their way to a satisfactory resolution by the time I go on my holiday break the end of next week. With any luck, I'll have them resolved by the end of THIS week so I can sort of skate along next week. ;)

Ah...if only the laundry & packing were this simple...

Taking a Breath

Everyone needs to do this any time of the year, but in December if you're either a parent or involved in any musical pursuits (worse yet, like me, BOTH!), it's an urgent matter for your sanity. So it is that tonight I'm vegging out to highlights from Handel's Messiah while I'm blogging after my children have headed to the showers.

It's nice to finally have an evening more or less to myself after spending Saturday at a lengthy swimming contest and an extra choral rehearsal. Sunday was icing on the busy cake with church in the morning (choral obligation #1), getting my youngest to the starting point of the local Christmas parade, watching same, finding her afterward, & getting us both to choral obligation #2, a festival of local choirs that culminated in most of the group taking part in the Hallelujah chorus. Since that's as close as I generally get to a live performance of Messiah these days, I enjoy it greatly. My grandmother & I used to attend it every December after I started driving, so I miss it. That annual chance to perform a piece of it also makes me miss her all over again (for only the fifth year--she was nearly 99 when she passed away in November 2003).

Looking forward to my potentially white Christmas in New England!

Long distance swimming or drying paint?

My regular readers are well aware that I am the parent of multiple children. Two of them participated in a swim meet today that was as much a test of endurance for me as for them as they participated in such longer-distance events as the 200 yard individual medley, 500 yard & 1000 yard freestyle, 100 yard butterfly, breaststroke, & backstroke--in other words, snooze while other people's kids are swimming, and mind you don't miss your own kids' races! It lasted SIX HOURS, most of which time I spent between working the concessions stand, visiting with other parents, and of course watching the girls swim.

A friend who was himself a competitive swimmer during school made the comment ahead of this meet that watching distance swimming is like watching paint dry. I was inclined to agree before attending today (the girls are the younger of my three piscine offspring). However, I do believe I saw a wall that someone painted this morning completely dry before we ever left the YMCA pool! ;) (JK)

Perceiving Terror

This morning en route home from the 9 year old's school, I heard part of a NPR story about a Russian woman who tries against all odds (including the macho culture of eastern Europe that most people don't realize exists--i.e. cops not believing women who allege their husbands physically abused them) to advocate for women's rights in the former Soviet Union--or at least one corner of it (the story was about half over when I tuned in after kiddo left the car). One particularly heartbreaking story was of another Russian lady, a married woman with a young daughter, who took a job in Syria that effectively turned out to be white slavery and enforced prostitution, refused to participate, and was raped and beaten until she escaped to return to her family in Russia. The worst part was the total lack of support or legal aid she’s gotten from Russian police or Interpol (or anyone else, for that matter, except for that advocate's attempts to prosecute).

After hearing that tale of woe, I really felt a lot more grateful to live where I do--even though I frequently disagree with the actions of our elected officials, I have the right TO disagree with them without fear of being harassed about it. The last time I felt so terrified I was NOT in New York or Washington, but had friends and extended family in the vicinity of both the World Trade Center and the Pentagon and was for once grateful not to be with them! And of course that wasn't targeting the fair sex like the victim in the NPR story experienced.

God bless America! Let's see if we can't spread some goodwill to our sisters around the globe.

Terror & my minimal experiences of same

What constitutes terror for women in the modern era...

A story I heard several years ago on National Public Radio (NPR) told of a Russian woman who accepted a job in Syria & was victimized by her employers in the form of rapes & beatings before she managed to escape back to Russia. When she reported her situation to the authorities, Madam X received less than zero support or legal aid from the Russian police or Interpol according to the story (or from anyone else, for that matter, save for a second woman's valiant efforts to prosecute--a woman who also mans the local domestic abuse hotline & has to battle Russian law enforcement officers who most often do NOT believe received reports of domestic violence toward Russian women by their spouses or partners).

I'm grateful to have never experienced such horrors, but I can certainly recall a few moments in my life when I was so low it was hard to believe the light at the end of the very long tunnel I was in wasn't an oncoming articulated lorry (that's a "tractor trailer" in US parlance) or locomotive! To wit:

Once upon many years ago, I accepted a position preparing reports for a financial adviser who, when my duties ended up concluding months sooner than he evidently originally anticipated, I was let off without so much as a gracious dismissal by this so-called "Southern Gentleman." I was left feeling like a piece of unworthy trash as a result of his callousness & lack of people skills--AND I've regarded that term with no small measure of scorn ever since.

More recently, during the first year I worked in my current career field, I was bitterly disappointed about not being offered an option to continue licensing foster homes (which I thoroughly enjoyed) & being "baptized by fire" into such matters as coordinating services for recalcitrant (at best--most were downright uncooperative) parents, giving testimony in court (which I STILL hate!), & worst of all, getting zero support from supervisory staff in squabbles created by demanding foster parents or obnoxious court appointees, nor any assistance with transporting numerous child clients, even in the advanced stage of my last pregnancy. All this was in addition to the overwhelming numbers of minute details I was required to see to in the line of duty or be zapped for on performance reviews. I even made repeated efforts to track down several deadbeat parents as I was taking my own children to & from school or daycare (or making them wait late hours for me at same) with NO apology ever even considered from my superiors. Small wonder I left there to work where I do now!

Ah, the holiday season...

'Tis the season for:
green wreaths with red bows
choral performances of Handel's Messiah
baking cookies for our local soldiers
marching down the street dressed as a Christmas tree
road trips to snow country
family get-togethers
catching up with old friends
...and, one hopes fervently, NOT this year's influenza virus!

Take time to smell the roses...

...or in this case, grass & freshly pruned trees. Today's itinerary with my visiting aunt & uncle included a trip to the topiary garden of Mr. Pearl Fryar about 25 miles from home. You may have seen him on some of the gardening shows on BHG or other cable channels; he's quite popular the world over. We learned about him when he took time to work with the REACH program the first year our 13 year old was in it & he taught the children the basics of creating topiaries from boxwoods. (Sadly that was a bad year drought-wise, so her plant died!)

Mr. Fryar is quite clever & creative, crafting artworks out of junk parts which he displays amongst his topiaries. My daughter's favorite is one called "pot head," a wind chime "person" with an upside down flower pot for a head & clanging bits of metal for a body. Mr. Fryar's description is that it makes lots of noise while the wind is blowing, but it's not encouraging anyone to follow their dreams. (In other words, it's selfish & totally self-absorbed.) He's also a great advocate of kids who may not be as academically talented as others, giving scholarships out to students with C averages to encourage their endeavors. He is the subject of the movie, "A Man Named Pearl," which has just this week come out on DVD.

Check out the gardens on line at www.fryarstopiaries.com.

Happy Thanksgiving

The tryptophan is kicking in hard...along with all the wine & cordials I drank over the course of the afternoon (we ate around 2:00 p.m.). After dessert we took a stroll around the block with our guests & two dogs before I cleared the wreckage of pies, dirty dishes, & crumb-covered tablecloth from the dining room. It was fun to sit back & relax over multiple glasses of wine imbibed with both sons, my aunt, & my husband--it happens all too infrequently!

In the course of the day, the 13 year old had to be reminded she's grounded until at least Monday, which ruined her mood for dessert. (She wants to attend a local high school football playoff game tomorrow & we denied her this privilege--imagine that!) Yes, we're cruel, unusual jerks--and next time maybe she'll think twice before she shoots her mouth off at school, which is what got her grounded in the first place.

Meanwhile our cat is happier than he's been in months, all because I cooked up the giblets just for him. Me-yum!

More tomorrow when my tryptophan coma lifts. ;)

Paging Emily Post (Cell Phone Division)

Periodically when I'm driving with my daughters & my cellular phone rings, I'll make some lame, dated joke about Maxwell Smart's shoe (or, more correctly, my pocket) going off. Anyone born before 1974 has presumably seen enough reruns of the old Mel Brooks-Buck Henry TV series to remember Don Adams & his annoying voice pausing to take a call from the Chief on his shoe phone. Both daughters, however, were born during the Clinton administration & have NO idea about this except when we laugh at Inspector Gadget cartoons that lampoon same--and even then, they're confused.

Since the advent of the cell phone has rendered the whole ringing shoe thing obsolete and totally irrelevant, I'd like to address something extremely relevant to the world of 2008: cell phone etiquette. I concur with the smarter of our 50 states enacting the "don't gab while driving" laws that require headsets; that only legislates the common sense so many people seem to lack. When I'm driving & have passengers with me, the response to the ringer comes from one of them.

However, contrary to popular opinion, mandated common sense doesn't automatically bestow intelligence. Case in point: people wandering through Home Depot, Aldi, Macy's, or some other store blabbing away on the infernal earpiece known as a "Bluetooth," making those around them think these folks are yammering to themselves like blithering idiots. (Not long ago I worked with someone who habitually did this IN THE OFFICE, which got old any time you'd speak to her & get a response that didn't even remotely match up with what you'd said!)

A Sunday shopping excursion at our local hardware warehouse store with my husband & our 9 year old was icing on the proverbial cake. While hubby was perusing garage door pulleys and trash can liners, we ladies headed for, well, "the ladies'" as the restroom is politely called in Britain. The entire time we were in said public restroom, there was a third female present. She was unseen by us, but we heard her the entire time we attended to our private needs...gabbing loudly on her cell phone! :P It's pretty bad when my 9 year old has a better clue than a fool who doesn't care a whit that toilets are flushing & sinks are running (to say nothing of other noises one needn't broadcast!) in the background on her telephone calls! (I hasten to add that I'm SO proud she's smart enough to realize this!)

I recommend a fate worse than death for someone like this: flush her cell phone! Or toss it under the wheels of a forklift at Home Depot. That'll teach her! Or it SHOULD, one would hope...

Necessities & recycling

Joy of joys--the one task every homeowner despises with a passion is being dealt with by my hubby right now. (If you own a house, you can guess this one!) I'm just glad it's being taken care of BEFORE we have guests for the holiday! He's also exploring leeching fields with the guy before he leaves, so we can redirect gray water to a more appropriate place in the very near future & tax the system far less than we have been.

One of the less embarrassing but no less time-consuming chores in the dining room was completed by my still-grounded 13 year old yesterday. She only had to dust the interior of the china cabinet, which of course is a bother because all the china & crystal had to be removed first, then replaced after the job was done. The rest of the room will probably get done tomorrow evening after work (I offered to help my 9 year old's Girl Scout troop leader & the girls make Christmas tree costumes for the 12/7 Christmas parade.) Tonight we'll be affixing styrofoam stars to birthday party hats, plus adding pinned-on tree ornaments including tinsel to green sweatshirts they can un-decorate & wear again after the parade. I love having a recycling nut in charge of the troop; the idea to NOT glue the decorations on was hers.

Meanwhile...back to work, where I have to finish writing a legal brief!

South Carolina late fall

I'm aware that most of my readers have never been south of the Mason Dixon line; I never was before I was 21. Our normal temperatures this time of year are fairly decent: daytime highs in the 60s or slightly above 70, overnight lows in the 30s or low 40s. It's usually "sweater weather," as opposed to what NY, NJ, & CT get right about this time each year (e.g. flurries, frosty breezes, overnight lows in the teens).

Surprise, surprise--this year, much to my delight, this month has included several weeks of very chilly days & frigid nights to rival my native turf in the Connecticut suburbs of NYC. Normally we don't have colorful leaves here, either, but happily this year our local trees have also rivaled some of the better falls I remember from my younger days. (No, we're NOT as warm as Florida here--a fact for which I'm personally very glad, as I've visited FL & have NO desire whatever to live there!)

We're running our wood stove every night to save electricity, stay toasty, & appreciate our overnight lows. (Yesterday at 6:30 a.m. when we headed to the swim it was 19 degrees outside!) I'm now hoping my girls can find some autumnal leavings around a local park (the "world famous" Swan Lake iris gardens, filled with bald cypress, sweetgum, & various southern varieties of oak & maple trees, are about two miles from our house) where the Christmas lights will soon overtake the place every evening. I may need to spend a lunch hour on Tuesday or Wednesday out there myself plucking up fall's detritus for decorating the table on Thursday.

Proving a theory I've heard

On this, my spouse's birthday, I've resolved to make every effort to maintain the sense of calm that's pervaded my very busy month--even with work tossing monkey wrenches into the schedule, the holidays drawing nigh, & a long trip anticipated in about four weeks. The main thing I plan to focus on is my own well-being as all about me is going haywire. Making my own self-care a high priority seems to help a lot with this, though I've heard it before & not quite believed it.

For example: Today I rose just before 5:30 a.m. & traveled with my two youngest children & one of their friends to a swim meet about forty-five miles from home. I brought Christmas cards & the address book with me to address envelopes & sign cards between the kids' heats. But... :( ouch! As soon as I'd finished the envelopes, my back ached sufficiently from sitting on backless aluminum bleachers (even on the top row, leaning my back against the wall!) that I decided a short but immediate workout was in order. Thankfully, as a member of your local YMCA, you're welcome to use any YMCA's facilities, so I was able to duck out of the pool area & into the weight room for a quick 20 minutes on an elliptical trainer. Thus was relieved the ache in my lower back. While that simple act didn't make the event end any sooner (it still ran until 1:00 p.m. after our 8:30 a.m. arrival), it did render it less of a literal pain in the rear end ;) & boost my mood! (P.S. The Christmas cards are nearly complete for mailing next weekend thanks to my multitasking!)

Tonight I plan to savor my family--it is hubby's birthday & three of the four children are here for dinner, which our oldest is cooking. Then comes more family time I plan to relish later in the week, after the close of business on Wednesday. I sincerely hope you do the same with your own loved ones.

Listen and Learn

Listening is a fine skill that anyone can learn with a bit of patience. The trick is to try and understand what's NOT being said while the words are being spoken. Sounds crazy, I know. Yet in my experience it's the truth!

Today my job entailed traveling with a teenager. While riding the roads, she said she's weary of telling therapists, care providers, & psychiatrists what's really wrong with her because they DO NOT listen to her and enact any changes to her treatment (her opinion). As she detailed a few things & answered some questions for me, it rapidly became mine as well. However, I also made clear to her that if the adults working directly with her in the treatment setting aren't satisfying her needs, she needs to TELL me so I can intervene on her behalf. Hopefully that message got through, because upon arrival at our destination I proceeded to share her concerns (in her presence) with the new folks she'll be working with, who agreed with me that further investigation into her issues is most definitely warranted.

Sadly, this discussion also served to remind me how jaded the providers in my field tend to be after a certain number of years. :( I just hope I'm not as jaded as they are!

Peace, Smoke, and Turkeys

Sunday morning. So far today I've eaten breakfast, unloaded/reloaded the dishwasher, & read the New York Times on line. I'll be addressing A's failure to feed our dogs & cat momentarily, but for now the house is peaceful.

I'm (wisely!) letting my youngest sleep in; she was quite cranky when we left the campfire that included no s'mores (nor even a toasted marshmallow!) because it was being run by the BOY Scouts, not the GIRL Scouts. I can't say I blame her; we'd expected to do this fire thing with hubby's troop of a dozen or so teenaged boys. Instead, we ended up sitting in front of a miniscule fire that generated insufficient heat to warm us in the below 50 degree breezes, enduring skits performed by several Boy Scout troops not from our local area--all stage-managed by an elderly Scouter who insisted we first sing--AND had the audacity to single T out for sitting on my lap!--around the smoking mass of wood that did nothing to warm us!

Last night's repast was sloppy joes & carrots with the troop boys. A savors being around them because one apparently has a bit of a crush on her & she loves to torment him (cruel, heartless girl!). With two college-aged brothers, she's not one to brook foolishness from males of any age, & so she held her own rather well with the guys who range in age from 12 to 18. T just thinks they're all sillier than her brothers.

I've already promised T that if it doesn't happen sooner, we'll do a fire in our own backyard some time over the Thanksgiving weekend while my aunt is visiting & do the s'mores then. Sounds like a great dessert on top of pumpkin pie, doesn't it? At least I'm not serving Thanksgiving dinner for the Fourth of July as happened to a friend in London during college, whose British hosts had managed to goof up their American holiday menus out of sincere kindness. :)

Camping and Rain

Heaven bless him, my husband was scheduled to go camping last night in what turned out to be the worst weather night of the entire month. We had wind, we had thunder & lightning, we had a tornado watch that became a tornado warning around 10:30 p.m...did I mention the torrential RAIN that went with all that? It was an unusual enough night in that we had the entire house to ourselves (daughter #1 was at a HS football game & slept over at a friend's house; daughter #2 was at a Girl Scout sleepover event), but the weather only added to it!

So, now that the rain has more or less concluded, we are off to the woods to have supper and s'mores with hubby and his Boy Scout troop--and hopefully not to freeze as the temperature dips below 32 degrees. :)

Mercy in Life

This week has included a Federal holiday, so I only went to work Monday & Wednesday. The workload decreased a bit Monday when a child I'd worked with for five (5) years became an adult (numerically) & left our agency's purview. Today I helped a co-worker move two youngsters (one I work with, the other her client) to a new placement which we feel is a very positive step for both. :) I'll have a new client child to succeed the one who went home; no doubt there'll be interesting times to follow while I become familiar with him & his family. Such is the nature of working with human beings under the age of 18!

Happily, I also spent a good bit of Q-time (Q for "quality," of course!) with my daughters yesterday. We came up with some clever, appropriate gifts for family members with only a few suggestions from a co-worker who's doing like most of us & tearing her hair out trying to create rather than spend a fortune this holiday season. She graciously loaned us a special cookbook for the purpose, which has solved four Christmas gift quandries thus far & may yet solve quite a few more. :D

There's no feeling quite like having most of your Christmas shopping done before turkey day & sending out Christmas cards!

Highly Improbable, but...

My youngest, as I've alluded in an earlier entry, is a fiercely competitive child--who also happens to be a competitive swimmer. With that and the Olympian achievement of Michael Phelps in Beijing in mind, I share the following:

Last night my elder daughter returned home from the church youth group dinner to share how the older sister of another girl (as it happens, the young lady my younger son took to his senior prom) was at Williams Brice Stadium in Columbia, SC attending the USC-Arkansas football game on Saturday as a member of the USC band. While she was under the bleachers with the rest of her group before the half time performance, someone bumped into her. She turned to apologize to the person and...WHOA!!! It was MICHAEL PHELPS!!!

After the younger one returned her chin to its proper position on her face (it had dropped to the kitchen floor in shock, naturally!), I was immediately harangued for not having taken HER to the USC game on Saturday. Now, mind you, I've never been a football fan (let alone a "chokin' chicken" fan!), so this wouldn't have occurred to me as a possible Saturday activity. Trying to convince the child that WB Stadium is so large, the odds of HER having had the same fortunate accident were less than zero at best got me nowhere. Her older brother, the swim coach in training, didn't believe the story at all when she told it to him.

Determined & somewhat stubborn kid that she is, she immediately put pencil to paper & wrote to the esteemed Mr. Phelps--literally "opened a vein," as writing instructors often tell their pupils to do (yes, this apple's tangled up in the family tree's roots!), pouring out her heart about how he bumped into her friend, why didn't he come to see her since he was only 45 minutes away, I want to be your pen pal, & by the way please send me a letter & an autographed photo!

What are the odds this kid's EVER going to hear from the best damn swimmer since Spitz?

Resume Addition: "Juggler"?

Or perhaps "Jongleur," which was a minstrel/storyteller in medieval France? Probably the more accurate for me; either way, it requires some skill!

The juggling of course is part of life. Anyone who is employed, in a relationship, and has children becomes a master juggler by the time the children start grade school. In my case I juggle my job, my husband, my four children (two university students, a middle schooler & a fourth grader), working out, managing a household, being a swim mom (for TWO teams part of the year!), singing in the church choir, serving on the altar guild, attending school board functions or events at the boarding school where hubby teaches, AND somehow squeezing in time to see extended family & friends in between all that. Fifteen separate tasks I have to keep aloft, some with supplemental smaller "balls" orbiting them like moons. Then I wonder why I'm so tired every night?!

Fortunately some of the stress seems to be lessening of the stresses as my daughters mature. At this point, the older one is responsible enough to TRY to help with household chores--sometimes, when the mood strikes her! (If you're not a parent, remember yourself in junior high school. You know what I mean.) My biggest effort right now (after forcing myself into sweats, Nikes, & the Y's front door!) is convincing my youngest it's only fair for ME to spend half an hour sweating, while "Miss I Want To Beat Michael Phelps' Record" has already finished her mile and a half of swimming in 90 minutes.

I know--I'll hit the elliptical & juggle while sweating, trying not to let the balls hit my daughter while she's reading on the floor beside me! That'll give me something else to write about--her reaction when the balls all clobbered her. ;)

Starting Over

I've always been rather fond of this font named in honor of the medieval siege engine on the order of the catapult. How is came to be so dubbed, though, I've nary a clue. The title of my blog, on the other hand, got its title from my recent participation in a so-called Spiritual Gifts workshop--where I only confirmed what I've known since grammar school (how much I thrive on the written word, of course!) & hardly needed reminders of. So it is that I hope to blend the knowledge I've gleaned from daily life & my varied interests over the course of my four decades plus on this planet into something fascinating for the reader.

Autumn is a time of year when I seem to find my energy coming back after the long, miserably hot & humid summer has finally receded into memory. I think it's the need to finally wear socks, shoes, & jackets returning that makes me feel more "normal," having been raised in a far cooler climate than the one where I've lived for two decades. Instead of thinking of the colorful leaves as a signal that the world is dying for the winter, I prefer to treat the season as a chance to come out of estivation (as opposed to hibernation) & enjoy the lack of humidity, the cool breezes, and yes, even the need to fire up the wood stove at night.

Until tomorrow...