Little Things

So I went to Target

Ok, stop here. I just noticed that I have an awful lot of blog entries that have to do with me going to Target. So many that I might have to consider changing the title of this site to “Mindy goes 2 Target.” It is a wondrous place of profound thought-provoking subjects. Well, ok, it’s just a good store and I like to go there and buy both needed and unneeded objects to maybe improve my life. Alright, digression over, I now resume my story:

So I went to Target at lunchtime because I wanted to get out of the office but not be on the roads too much because, well, you know (Warren cops on the prowl.) I picked up a couple things from the dollar spot and actually found a little scrapbooking sticker pack with a Tiki bar on it, oh how I needed that! Then I was cutting through the camping aisle and I just had to stop and admire the display of tents. You know what I mean, where they have these little mini-versions of the real tents that are just so cute you want to run over to the toy aisle, grab some Barbies and set up a little campsite right there. I didn’t actually do that but I did take a picture with my cell phone camera. (How did I ever live so long without this important life tool?) Here it is, with my hand included to demonstrate scale:

I have this fascination with “little things” which are not just things that are small but those that are like something big but on a much smaller scale. Miniature. For example dollhouses. We had a great one when I was little, it was actually made by my grandfather and we had a mix of previous generation furnishings and then a collection of the glamorous “Petite Princess” line of furniture that came out in the 1970’s. I used to love to find and make little objects of everyday life to set up to make it look “just like real.” Another good source of tiny objects in my childhood days turned out to be a place called “Lynn’s Pantry” which was a cake decorating store that was next door to the “Junior Boot Shop” where we would go to buy the ugliest shoes in the world. They had a whole wall with these little packets of items that were meant to be put on top of cakes but turned out to be the perfect scale for dollhouses and we could get objects like little diplomas or rolling pins or cowboy boots.

The toy industry has always been ready to cash in on this fascination with the charm of Very Small Things, such as the Polly Pocket toys they have out now, and the many previous versions of itty bitty people and places. I have a theory about this (as I always do) that it stems from some instinctual subconscious relating of Small Things to our attraction and love for the best Small Things of all: Babies. So that the cave women would take care of their offspring and propagate the race by not being able to pass up the little shoes in the baby aisle at Cave Target without going: “awww! Look at these! Sooo cute!”

Recently I had my Theory of Small Things being unique to females busted by the occurrence of our trip to the Lionel Train Factory. This field trip was organized by my cousin TJ who when growing up was in possession of his own assortment of miniature items that differed from our dollhouse mostly by being vehicles and of course TRAINS. It was over the Christmas vacation when we gathered up all the next generation of cousins, and Uncle Tom, and went to the site of the former factory where they showed us a video of very old guys reminiscing about getting their first train sets, and then we were led back into the Train Room where they had the most incredible display of Small Things ever. You could just look and look and keep on noticing even more tiny details in the little things.

So I needed to revise my Theory of Small Things to explain why men and boys are so enchanted. How’s this: It makes them feel BIG when compared to something so much smaller, as in “master of all I survey.” Like when you go to the top of a tall building and look down and everything seems so tiny that you feel powerful over it.






Yeah, right. It’s just fun to look at tiny things and even better when you can rearrange the furniture or make the trains go around. See:

Ain't that the truth!

I don’t watch much TV but last night we caught a little bit of “American Idol” with the kids so we could laugh at the auditions before they went to bed. After that a new show came on and since I’ve been bored (as evidenced by my last couple of blog posts) I decided to see what it was all about.

The name of the show is “Moment of Truth.” I found it to be simultaneously annoying and fascinating. The premise is that they ask the contestants questions while hooked up to a polygraph lie detector machine, and then ask them again in front of their friends and family. And the millions of people watching the show. The point of it seems to be to get these people into the situation where they have to admit to what they think or feel at the cost of destroying their reputations or relationships in order to win big money prizes. It seems to be designed to get the audience to consider what price they would place on sharing their true thoughts as the result of that becomes increasingly hurtful.

The annoying part is that there’s this computerized voice from the beyond that drones: “That answer is…..” and after a pause so long you could throw in a load of laundry: “True!” The pause is so long that unless you have a magazine to read you might start to call up some questions such as: “Why am I watching this?” “Where do they get these people?” “Who comes up with the questions?” “Is this all fake?” Which of course I know it is, and I should probably be more bothered about being falsely manipulated by a TV show that has the word Truth in it’s title, but it was entertaining.

Then this morning on my commute the radio DJs were all abuzz over the breaking news story about the Mayor of Detroit having been caught in a whopper of a lie, under oath, about his relationship with his Chief of Staff as proven by some freshly unearthed text messages. Perjury. It’s dissapointing because we want our leaders to be honest, and it hurts to find out how far they would go to make the reality that they want to be true appear that it is. This stuff makes good news because like that TV show it gets people thinking about truth versus illusion, and what we really want to know…or not.

There is a blog called Post Secret where people send in their secrets on a post card anonymously. It makes you think about what everyone around you isn’t telling. (Warning if you go there: not for kids) Everyone has secrets, and most of them are best kept that way. What if there was a way for us to go around with a lie-detector strapped to our bodies, like a mood ring, that would let everyone know when you are lying? I don’t think that I’d want to live in that world. Sometimes the truth that you want to be real is better than what really is.

Some lies just shouldn’t be told such as: “Their nuclear weapons program makes them a threat to our national security.” But other times I have to wonder whether I’d really want to know if I’m being lied to or not as in:



I can use this gift.

It won’t hurt very much.

You’re getting our very best deal on that.

You look good in your glasses.

I’ll bring you chocolate.

You’re invited because we want you there.

We could really use someone with your skills in this department.

You won’t have to worry about that because I’m going to take care of it.

You’ll lose 6 pounds in 2 weeks.


Not that I mean anything by any of these, I’m just making up examples…honest!

Cozy

Baby, it's cold outside

Three Degrees out right now. Three. Zero-Three. Single Digits. BRRRRRR.

Mortar and Pestle

It all started with a trip to the bookstore last week when my mother was taking care of the kids. Jeffrey came across a laminated card about Identifying Medicinal Herbs and asked his Grandma to buy it for him which of course she did. A few days later he announced to me that he is going to be a Herbologist when he grows up, and that as soon as everything is growing again he is going to go out in the woods and gather plants to get started practicing. Then he told me: "But there's something else that I need, Mommy, it's like a bowl with with this crushing thing..." Oh, a Mortar and Pestle. We don't have one of those.

The last time I thought about a Mortar and Pestle was actually because of this blog, all the way back to when I bought all that Cardamom, and I got a comment from my old cubemate Danielle, who said she used a Mortar and Pestle to grind up Cardamom Seeds to use in making bread, which then set off the whole DFSS bread-making contest. Except that my Cardamom was already ground up. Since at that time I was trying to learn about cooking, I wondered whether I should own a mortar and pestle. I vaguely remember my mother having one, a pinkish little bowl made of some heavy marble, I think.

Anyways, now Jeffrey was fixated on obtaining a mortar and pestle, and last weekend talked me into taking him to our local Meijer store to see if they sold them. We looked up and down the aisles of kitchen gadgets but no such luck. On the way home we stopped at the library and Jeff picked out a book and instructional video about making things from herbs.

And then today while Larry was at the church I wanted to try to do my new Yoga Booty Ballet exercises but needed to keep the boys occupied. So I let them get started on their idea of "Extreme Room Makeover" which consisted of taking all of the objects out of their closets and shelves and piling them up in the hallway. Once Larry got back I had in my mind to make a trip to Target, they have sent me a 10% off coupon. I figured I could use it to save on cleaning supplies that we always use, and maybe take a peek at their Global Bazaar home decorations while I was there. Jeffrey wanted to come along so he could see if they sold a mortar and pestle. I really wanted to shop alone so I promised that I would look for it.

As I was getting ready to leave I could see that the situation of the mess in the hallway wasn't going over very well with Larry, and I suggested that maybe they should make an outing to the Farmer's Market to buy fresh herbs and use them for making dinner. Then I got the heck out of there.

So I made my way through Target and was pacing in front of the wall of mysterious kitchen gadgets willing the shape of a mortar and pestle to form in front of my eyes, when my cell phone started singing from inside of my purse. It was Larry, sounding a little edgy, asking where I was. I told him in the kitchen area looking for a mortar and pestle. He said that they were heading out to the Farmer's Market. Just as he was hanging up I heard Jeffrey's little voice rising from the background: "Remind her to get my mortar and...click."

I propelled my red cart back and forth along the aisles one more time, scanning...and then I spotted a red box on a low shelf next to a tortilla heater. The picture was what I was looking for! But the box was titled "Guacamole Set." I squatted down to read the smaller print which said: "Set Includes: Traditional Molcajete (mortar and pestle) lemon squeezer, and avocado slicer." The thing is bigger, and more expensive, than what I was imagining, but I so wanted to come home and present my sweet little son with object of his heart's desire. I tapped the speed dial on my cell phone. Larry answered, in the car on the way to the market. "You need to buy avocados." I told him about the Guacamole Set. "I don't like avocados!" he complained. Then he tries another approach: "Those are fattening!" I know that Jeffrey will want to use this thing right away. "Just get some avocados!" and I click the phone shut.

Well as soon as I pull into the garage Jeffrey came leaping out to help me carry the bags in, hoping for what he might find inside. Of course he was thrilled when he found it. The thing is huge and heavy and likely to scratch the counter. Oh well. Right after our dinner of herbed raspberry chicken we made some delicious guacamole.

It sometimes wonder if it's just my kids that seem to get these crazy things in their heads to want that seem so far removed from what normal children are supposed to desire. I kind of think all kids get that way at some point. In fact, thinking about Danielle reminded me of the time her son only wanted a Chandelier for Christmas. So that he could swing from it like on "Cheaper by the Dozen." So it's not just us. And now if there's anything that needs to be mashed up, we are READY.

Speed Trapped

Yesterday morning my friend JJS stopped by my desk, he was in the building for something and was then on his way to the Warren City Court to argue a speeding ticket. Of course that meant I had to relate the entire story of my Warren speeding ticket from a couple of years ago, and how I went to court all ready to argue about it. I got to sit there with all of the convicts and hookers and then take my turn to politely ask to have the points removed based on my good record. The judge said “sure and that’ll be an extra $25 in court costs, pay now at the cashier.” And then I got to watch as they built this elaborate new civic center that you can see from the tall building at the GM tech center. Quite the fancy place, largely funded by the traffic ticket revenue from GM employees, I suspect.

Then around lunchtime I got the idea in my head that I had to go outside and experience the oddly high temperature. (62 degrees) I didn’t have anywhere I needed to go, but since I have that good parking spot I got in my car and started driving. I made a Michigan left turn and headed south on Mound Road. I have absolutely no idea what caused me to make that decision, perhaps some cosmic karmic forces, I just don’t know. As I went past the ramps onto 696 I pondered how wide and open they made Mound road at that point, almost like an expressway as it goes under, and then up, and then slopes down and then…that’s when the police car shot out from behind the embankment with his lights a-flashing. DANG!

I pulled over and got out my wallet as the mustached cop walked up to my window. I put on my best innocent-terrified-nice person face and held up my license. He paused a moment when he looked at my face, and I tried to squeak out a tiny tear but he just walked back to his car and returned moments later with my ticket. He said that I was going 63 in a 50 but that he only put me down for 5 over. Then he waited for me to thank him for that. I did, and then pulled back into traffic. I went south just until I could turn around but there was a stalled car in the way with a young nervous-looking woman standing next to it with a cell phone. I went around her thinking that my cop would be right along to help her out. Well after the U turn as I was going North I saw my cop still in the very same place already handing the ticket to his next victim! Never mind the citizens of Warren in need of help, murder and crime rampant in the streets, they’ve got a new civic center to pay for!

As soon as I got back to my desk I instant messaged JJS telling him he’d never guess what just happened. Unaware that I had ever left my desk, he surmised: “Bob died.” No! I related my story, and we ranted about those darn Warren cops tricking us GM employees. Bolstered by that conversation I decided to call Larry, which I rarely do in the middle of the day. “Something bad happened!” was my lead in sentence which prompted a moment of panic on his part thus softening the news of the $100 we were going to have to cough up for my ½ mile adventure.

The moment I hung up my coworkers gathered around to discuss the situation. Without even trying to hide the fact that they had all actively listened to my phone conversation, they all related their stories of getting ticketed by the Warren Police.

We discussed whether I have anything to gain by going to the courthouse for this one. I can’t exactly plead to my perfect driving record since it’s not perfect anymore due to that last ticket. I had the very brilliant idea of trying to calculate the speed of acceleration of my vehicle down the slope of the road minus the friction of the tires to prove that I wasn’t intentionally going fast (it was gravity’s fault!) but Bob didn’t think that would fly.

I get 14 days to either pay up or apply for a court appearance. I need to figure out if it’s worth it to try to get the points removed and if the court costs exceed the increase to my auto insurance (do I call them?)

Here is a picture of the new Warren civic center. The way I see it, a couple of the bricks over by the clock are MINE.

St. Albertus

My sister Becky has a variety of unusual interests. Unusual defined as different than the other people I know. Some of them stem from her involvement in the preservation of historic architecture. In fact she has a master's degree from Columbia University in it and has authored a book. (A little bragging on my sis there)

This weekend she invited her family members to come into Detroit to attend mass at a church where she is the lector. Because she is Becky this isn't just any church. It has been closed as a Parish for the past 17 years and is maintained by a non-profit organization of which she is a member. It was built in the 1880's and was the first Polish Catholic Parish in Detroit. They only have masses occasionally in there using a retired priest and other volunteers, and not very many people attend. So to fill out the crowd we made the long drive down to celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany and a day of Polish cultural experience.

Walking into St. Albertus is breathtaking. It as beautiful as any cathedral, where you can just look and look and never stop seeing another detail. And all of it so old: since around the time they invented electricity. There used to be an enormous Polish community in this area, enough to support this church and two others within viewing distance of each other. (Sweetest Heart of Mary and St. Josephat) The church was the center of their community and their pride and joy. It feels a little sad to sit there among all of this glory and know that there are no longer enough people around to support it, and that despite the efforts of the association it is falling into disrepair, and could eventually disappear as many other once great buildings in this city have.


When I sat there listening to the sound of the Priest's voice speaking in Polish, I could almost see the ghosts of many people who have been inside of these walls. Baptisms, weddings, and funerals, the happiest and saddest of celebrations, for generations over a century. And if I wanted to see actual dead people all I had to do was look into the glass coffins on either side of the altar.


Well they aren't really dead people although I told the kids that they were just to spook them for fun. I'm still trying to figure out why if you're going to make a statue of someone who's dead why not make it with them standing up with their eyes open instead of how they looked after their time alive had ended. Anyways that's what's so great about extremely old ethnic stuff is that sometimes it comes off all wacky when we look at it today.


The location of the church is in what is now pretty much an urban wasteland, here is a view of across the street.

The hinges from the front door have been stolen but you can still see the shadows of what they looked like. Becky said a friend of hers found them in a resale shop but the police didn't want to get involved.


After the mass we went to the Polish Art Center Store and had lunch at Polonia in Hamtramck to finish off the cultural experience. If you think this is something you would ever want to do check out the website for the schedule. And you could say hi to Becky!

Happy New Year!

It was just so nice to be off from work all those days in a row. It kind of reminded me of...not working! How wonderful it was. Plus there was no school, homework, kid's sports, activities, or piano lessons going on either. And there were parties and presents and places to go and fun things to do. We topped it all off with a trip to a waterpark hotel for a New Year's Eve Radio Disney Splash Bash with our friends the Smiths. Huge fun for the kids, at one point I noticed Jeffrey skipping down the hall without even realizing he was doing it. Oh to be so happy that you must skip for transportation to the next great thing.

But always there was that feeling of knowing that it was going to come to an end. For me anyways. The kids don't have school until Monday so the party life rages on for them. I had to go to work today. And I'm extra tired from the lack of sleep on New Year's Eve, and then I've been fighting off a cold which hasn't slowed me down too much, except for when I'm trying to sleep and the laying down causes the phlegm to form a glob at the back of my throat...a feeling that makes me not want to lay down no matter how tired I feel. And then we got slammed with 15 inches of snow in one day and the roads were still a mess from it.

So I was a little bit less than perky when I arrived at work this morning. Late. What a way to start the new year. Maybe it'll just keep on improving from here. Since I was still feeling kind of sick good old Bob suggested that I drink some hot tea. So I ventured into the Coffee Room of Delights and found that someone had put two new boxes by the tea bags. One said "Brain Enhancing" and the other "Oolong Slimming." What a decision! Since I just finished a week of nonstop eating that included Kielbasa and Sauerkraut leftovers in the refrigerator at my house, I went for the slimming tea.

Every year I make the same resolution (lose weight) and every year of my life I have gotten bigger. This has to stop. I have been getting away with disguising my fat thanks to my telephone pole stature, but putting on a bathing suit at the end of Christmas week made the reality of the problem obvious. This time I REALLY MEAN IT. Diet, big time. Not an easy time of year for exercise because I can't ride my bike in the snow and I get bored with the trainer after about 2 minutes. So to try something new I just ordered "Yoga Booty Ballet" which should arrive in my mailbox in just a couple of days. This is sure to work because it has a catchy title. I'll let you know how it goes.

What is your new year's resolution? I'd love to hear all about it.

Art Appreciation

Today we visited the newly renovated Institute of Art Museum. We got a coupon for free admission in the mail, and my mother who is a member wanted to go too, so since the boys have never been there we drove the 50 miles into the city to check it out.

Once we got there and found parking we had to get our little metal admissions tabs, and check our coats, and find the bathrooms, and stand around looking at the visitors map trying to figure out where to find all of that and which exhibits everyone most wanted to see were. There was a puppet show starting when we got there but everyone wanted to see art first so we skipped that for later.

I was pleased when my boys took an interest in the suits of armour, and the Egyptian artifacts. The armour reminded Jeff of a video game, and the Egyptian artifacts included a mummy (cool old dead thing) but still I was glad they were appreciating it instead of just running past to the drinking fountains. Shortly after we made it through the bizarre African part Timmy mentioned that he was getting hungry. Well it was lunch time so we went back across the museum, quickly went past the modern art and downstairs to the cafeteria. The puppet show had just let out and and all of the people were in line. After finally getting through we ate our overpriced food and talked about what we'd seen so far. Larry had to make the tired joke about how the minimalist art looked like nothing. He put his fork across his plate and said "There I just made art!" I said "To me it reflects sacasticism with judgementalist tendencies." Which got me the look.

Then we went up to the third floor and found the bathrooms there. The DIA has an extensive Dutch Art collection. And British. And Greek and Roman and Medieval and Renaissance. Timmy shyly pointed out that "sometimes they show people without their tops." Which is weird if you think about how we try so hard to protect our children from inappropriate material and then come and drag them through this. I know it's different but at that moment I had a hard time coming up with an explanation for it.

I could sense that we were starting to lose the kid's attention so I found my favorite art piece from when I was a child, the Bronze Donkey. The one piece of art that you are allowed to touch. I showed the boys how its back has been worn smooth from all the hands over the years including my own. They acted politely impressed but were starting to look like they were wondering when something exciting was going to happen. Around then we had to find the bathrooms again.

They have rearranged a lot of the pieces differently in the renovation. There are sections for "Decorative Arts" and "Fashionable Living" which show some of the elaborate articles such as furniture and tableware that the museum has in it's collection. Beautiful and I get their point but I found myself imagining how a lot of the things I've seen at Target lately would also look pretty good behind glass with a spotlight shining on them just so. Who knows someday maybe they will.

By now the boys had developed all kinds of physical afflictions unlikely to be present in study youngsters who had no complaints about spending hours out skating on the frozen lake the last week. "My legs are hurting." "I need to lay down!" I pointed out that I'm the one with varicose veins and their Grandma is 67 years old and we're not complaining yet, but I could see where this was headed. So we went "fast walking" through more of the museum because I wasn't leaving with at least glancing at the Van Gogh, and Renior, and DIA classics like "The Nut Gatherers" and "Watson and the Shark." So we did that and got ourselves to the entrance where our coats were. Then my mother suggested that we peek into the gift shop. A fine idea except that it was on a different floor and all the way across the museum. Well we went there and stood in line to buy one postcard. By now the place had really filled up with people and we made our way through the masses of them BACK to the entrance and came popping out the door. That's when I found out we'd just missed the second time of the puppet show.

I'm glad we went but I had this familiar feeling like from some trips we've taken that our experience mostly consisted of finding parking and bathrooms and overpriced places to eat, looking at a little map and crisscrossing all over the place, going to the gift shop and missing the shows. In fact I just described our last trip to Disney World. Oh well, at least I feel like I'm not missing out on taking my family to the Louvre in Paris. I already know what we'd be doing there.

Full Throttle T-Bucket

I had to wait until I was a grown-up to get to have the experience of having brothers. My family consisted of my parents and their 3 little girls born very close together. When my sisters and I got married we added husbands to the family mix, and I got to have brother-in-laws.

Subjects such as dolls and fashion and hairdos and shopping and decorating are all familiar enough, and my father had his hobbies like fishing and collecting and art. But when the guys came along they brought with them interests that were entirely unexplored by our family. Then my sons were born and there were these fascinating men around for them to learn from.

Hal is into computers and trivia games. He can do a headstand, swim across a lake, and knows all about baseball. Mark can play the guitar, shoot a hockey puck and is a race car driver.

Although my aunts married men who were into cars and racing, I hadn't really paid any attention to the sport of it until Mark came along. I know I work for a car company, and I did occasionally attend the Grand Prix when it used to run downtown, but I could tell you more about the food that was served at the buffet than what was going on with the cars on the track. So you push on the gas and they go real fast around in circles, so what? When Timmy was just a preschooler I took him to see his Uncle Mark race his sprint car. I had no idea what to expect but Timmy was enchanted with the cars and the race. Mark came up in the stands to talk to us when he was wearing his fireproof suit. After he left some guys turned around and wanted to talk: "You know that driver? Wow! How fast to those sprint cars go?" I had to admit I had no idea, but Timmy caught on to the excitement of it. For months after that he would play with his little playmobile race cars and even named some of the people after Mark and his brother.

Mark raced for a few more years after that but eventually had to give it up in exchange for just filling up their garage with various old cars and parts that he is "working on." And now he has found a new avenue for exercising his grease monkey talents. It is a club though their church which is building a hot-rod car based on replica parts from a model-T. There is a blog that is chronicling the vehicle as it goes together, and when it's finished they are going to raffle it off and donate the profits to the Open Door Rescue Mission. Check it out: http://kensingtonchurch-fullthrottle.blogspot.com/ and while you're there buy a raffle ticket, I'm going to!

Visions of Sugarplums

There are moments in the Christmas season (which seems to last way too long) when the whole thing feels like a great big hassle. I'm not a shopper so I don't enjoy the process of figuring out what everyone wants, and then running around to find and buy it all. And then when it's just too late to do any more, I take inventory of what I've gotten and worry about whether it's enough. And there's that nagging feeling that all this giving and getting of STUFF that we all don't really need anyways shouldn't be the focus of this religious holiday about a humble birth.



BUT...I just have to remember about my very favorite part of Christmas, which is not the too quick ripping open of the presents, and the smiles and the gratitude. That part is good, sure, but my best moment is on Christmas Eve, when the boys are getting tucked into bed. They are just brimming with excitement about the day come, willing themselves to fall asleep (the opposite of usual) and yet least able to do it, on this Night of Wonder. As in: "I wonder if Santa really is out there? I wonder if I will get what I wish for? I wonder if I dropped enough hints to get what I really want? I wonder if it's not too late for one more..." And they lie there knowing one thing for sure which is that tomorrow Christmas will come, and the questions will be answered, and there will presents and food and church and relatives and cousins and things that are new and different and maybe even better than before.




So that is what I remind myself as I try not to get scotch tape stuck in my hair while wrapping all these presents. That the real gift is the moment of going to sleep and looking forward to that next day, because even though life has it's hard parts there's always hope for a moment of joy sometime after you wake up. So maybe the whole present thing does make sense, if it brings it around to remember who brings us believers just that: hope for joy.




Merry Christmas to you, and my wish for all of us is that every evening we can have even the tiniest portion of what floats through these little boys heads this one night: a bit of excitement about what might happen the next day, because it just might be something real good.

One Hundred Blogs and Counting

JJS informed me that my one-hundredth blog posting was coming up, and so I feel compelled to acknowledge the occasion. You know, 100 is a big, round number and therefore deserves some attention. Although it's a little confusing to know exactly when it is. My records on blogger say that it's this one although on my page itself I'm one short, I think that's because I deleted "Getting Over It" (the one about forgiveness) after some people seemed uncomfortable with what I wrote about in that post.

Anyways, what is most amazing to me is not that I have managed to find 100 things to write about (the subject matter is infinite) but that some people in this world have actually bothered to READ 100 things that I have to say. It is both flattering and surprising to me that anyone would take an interest in this stuff.

Writing this blog has had some interesting results that I could not have predicted. I originally started it as a way to keep connected with the people I knew from work who I would no longer be seeing on a daily basis when I left. I imagined that I would post pictures of the fish I caught and that would be about it. It turned out that only a few of the work people kept checking in. But then it became a way for some old friends that I don't communicate with nearly enough to keep an eye on what's going on with me. And some relatives found out a way to get glimpses into my life that just don't come out at family gatherings. Some of the people that I do interact with more regularly have also found it fun to watch for what appears in here, probably just in case it happens to include a mention of them! (defensive blog reading) Just to keep my ego in check there are plenty of people in my life who have no interest whatsoever in looking at all of this, and I do get that. (But I get to mention them all I want, heh heh heh)

Also, now that I've been doing this for a while sometimes when something happens that clearly amuses me I'll notice whoever I'm with questioning whether it will show up in the blog. Usually not, but you never know.

Another thing that has happened is that some of my readers have turned into bloggers themselves! It is a total delight to be able to read about other people I know, and all of them have far more interesting things to write about that I ever have. (There are links on the sidebar, check them out!)

I like to keep tinkering with different things I can do. I put an advertisement on because I was curious about the messages they were sending me, that google would automatically crawl my site and then post ads with relevance to the subject matter. It amuses me to see how the automatic program interprets my posts. Plus I have earned a virtual 30 cents!

I also have google analytics on here, which doesn't tell me what I really want to know (who's looking at this and what do they think about it?) But contains fascinating information nonetheless. It has counted over 4,887 page visits from 886 different visitors in over 30 countries. Before I start feeling too famous I see that most of them are random hits from people who are searching for something else. The neat thing is that it tells you what they were searching for. Such as "monkey head string lights," "what does dew point have to do with dragon breath?" and "person behind baby bop costume." So far as I can tell nobody who has arrived through random means has ever elected to return!

And finally, I have found that I just like doing this, as I said it's my "artistic expression" and everyone needs one of those whether it's music or painting or decorating cakes. Sometimes this serves as a way to work something out that I'm thinking about. Other times it's like I'm communicating with an imaginary friend, always there to listen when I have something I want to talk about. And every so often I get some feedback, either through comments or conversations, where someone tells me that something I wrote made them laugh, or think a little, or reminded them of their own experience. To make a connection with another person, in whatever way, well it just feels great to do that.

So happy 100th blogaversary to me! I am humbled and appreciative that you choose to read this, and I hope that you continue to do so. Blog on!

Bacon Wrapped Water Chestnuts

So there I am, making my way forward through the water, pushing my hands back and forth against the resistance, legs kicking out in front. I feel like a crazy subterranean robot. I am bouncing up and down and my hair is pointing straight out from my head in wild fuzzy spirals. I look over at Lynn, she is bobbing through the water with a determined, experienced look on her face. I see the perky woman dancing on the edge. She holds up a brightly colored strap of rubber and tells all the people to wrap it around their ankles and start doing jumping jacks. They all comply. How surreal would appear if someone were to view it from above. Wait, there are people viewing it from above, and they are pedaling bicycles.

No, it's not a dream: it's the water aerobics class that Lynn invited me to join her in at the health club she belongs to. I agreed because I need to burn off the calories from all of the holiday food that I have been consuming, and it's not realistic to ride my bike in the snow.

*******

Last night I consumed an extra large amount of that holiday food. I hosted an ornament exchange party for the women in my neighborhood. Here is a picture that I took of some of the guests. Aren't they all lovely? Everyone dressed up all Christmassy except for Heather who did not wear pants.

Patty made bacon-wrapped water chestnuts, delicious! Here is her recipe:

1 lb bacon (I usually get the kind already cooked)
2 (8 ounce) cans water chestnuts
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
1/3 cup mayonnaise
1/3 cup chili sauce

Preheat oven to 350 degrees

Cut each strip of bacon in half. Wrap one strip around one water chestnut. Secure with a wooden toothpick. Place in a shallow baking dish.

Bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes.

While the wraps are baking, in a small mixing bowl combine the brown sugar, mayonnaise and chili sauce. After the wraps have finished baking, transfer them to a second shallow baking dish (I skip the whole transfer thing if I have used the precooked bacon. You are just getting them out of the grease by transferring them and there is little or no grease if you use the precooked). Pour the sauce over the wraps.

Bake at 350 degrees for 10 to 15 additional minutes or until bacon is crispy. Serve hot out of dish with toothpicks.

Take a place in the cyber race

One of the things I like about my current job is that I am learning new skills, particularly on the computer. There is a program that they use here to put together the web-based training courses, and for me it is fun to learn. When I actually get something to work, like “click here and a picture will appear” I get all excited and feel like doing a little dance in the cubicle aisleway. Ok, a couple of times I have actually done that. And of course the reaction is lots of eye rolling and suggestions that I get a life. But you know the feeling, it’s like when band-aids used to have that little red string on them and you would try and try to get it to work right and then finally one would rip open the right way and it was thrilling. Well for me it was! And now they don’t make them that way anymore anyways.

So when I completed my first course I showed it to my family on my laptop computer. They acted appropriately impressed although what else could they say when I was standing there beaming with pride in my big accomplishment. Timmy was interested in the way a little box popped up telling you if a question was answered right or wrong in the quiz at the end. A minute later he called me over to our home computer where he showed my how he could duplicate the html code that caused those boxes to appear. Drrr.

I mention this not to brag on my kid (although I am always happy to do that) but because it exemplifies the vast difference between the knowledge and abilities of the generations when it comes to computers. I came across an article recently that listed out the skills that will be typical of children at certain grade levels in the future, and it included things like “create an animation” that I am only just learning and my kids already know. It’s a reversal of the older people with more experience being ahead of the younger ones. When it comes to the workplace it’s clear that some of us are going to have to row pretty hard to stay ahead in the race.

I like to think that because I am open minded to learning new things that I can consider myself rather hip and happening when it comes to cyberspace. After all, I have a BLOG! I can email and IM and am learning how to do things with pictures. But not everyone aspires to this. Last month at Thanksgiving I was sitting there eating pistachios with my brother-in-law Mark and listening to my Mother and my Aunt Judy have a conversation about using computers. They were agreeing with each other about how confusing it all is, and their lack of desire to know how to do anything. Aunt Judy has email because she had to have it for her job, but my mother just shuns all of it. At least I am safe from ever having her read my blog, but I find the aversion to even try it on her part exasperating. When my other brother-in-law Hal walked in Mark and I shouted out warnings to him not to listen to this conversation or his head might explode. Hal is the kind of person that figures out how to do things just for the fun of it.

And then this past weekend we were at a party with my old sorority sisters from college and their families. A group of us girls were sitting in the dining room over dessert talking about maybe planning a trip together and the hostess pulled over her laptop and tried to look up some information. She was struggling with it which turned into a conversation about how hard it is to do things on computers and some of the other women complained that they had been applying for jobs and how inconvenient it was to have to fill out online applications. Our hostess is going to nursing school right now and is feeling very proud and important about that, but acted mystified about some online registration procedures she needed to know. YEE GADS! They were having the old lady “Dang these newfangled contraptions” conversation! Like on Thanksgiving all over again except that these are my PEERS, the very people I graduated from college with, ready to take on the world with our degrees in hand and our ambitions high. And now here they were ready to close themselves off from the very thing that could propel them to success as they move forward with their lives activities. Because I care deeply about these women and want all the best for them, I think I said something to the effect of suggesting that they embrace the technology and be open to learning it. “Well I don’t need to know computers to SAVE LIVES” was the response I got from the nursing student. But you do, possibly to save your own, I thought.

So I worry that the world soon be split into two categories of those who will or won’t embrace technology as it comes at us fast, which has been going on for the past 100 years. You can choose to be like the Clampett family marveling at the cee-ment pond, or go and find out what all this stuff does and how your life could be better for knowing about it. Of course I don’t mean YOU, if you’re reading this you are already in the game as far as I’m concerned. But I do wonder what defines that line of separation. It isn’t age, because I can to point to old Bob at work, 67 years old and able not only to figure out all of the ever-changing online processes over here but can teach them to others as well. It could be a gender thing because Bob doesn’t have a computer at home for his wife. But then how do you explain the difference between my mother and her sisters Chris and Kathy? I don’t think it’s intelligence either. It must be attitude then.

So somebody out there please keep an eye on me that I don’t become like that some day, clinging to the easy ways of the past and hoping that all the new stuff just goes away. It’s easy enough to do but when grandparents miss out on the chance to see pictures of their out of state grandkids in their Halloween costumes that same day, it’s a shame all around.

Sorry this is so long and ranty. I’m going to go now and try to figure out how to unlock the security codes Hal put on our wireless modem so I can get rid of the big blue cord running across our dining room.

And if anyone ever gets a cut and the only thing around is a 20 year old band-aid still in the wrapper, let me know I’ll be right there to help.

Assimilating

I am still trying to understand the rhythm of the people at work, and to fit in. There are some definite differences from the part of the organization that I worked in before. These people like to have parties and to EAT. I sit within view of the coffee room and with some regularity wonderful treats show up in there. Sometimes they are leftovers from workshops or meetings, and other times they are from the extra money from the coffee fund. A couple of times a month they have bagel and muffin day. Thursday was the annual Cheesecake Day, 3 different kinds. I had the chocolate turtle. For breakfast AND lunch. There was the big Halloween Costume business meeting and luncheon that I mentioned before, and last week was the Christmas Luncheon which featured a rather bizarre animated talking snowman. It's not all about food either, this past Tuesday was "Christmas Sweater Day" and they also do a whole variety of charity projects.

The driving force behind most of this is a very sweet woman named Amber who (among other things) is in charge of the coffee room and the party planning committee. A few weeks ago a message came out asking for volunteers for that and I was quick to respond. I love planning parties and I got a kick out of there being a committee for it like on my fave TV show The Office. When I went to the planning meeting it became clear to me that Amber already had everything figured out and was looking for people to do the footwork. I was pretty much sitting on my hands until she started talking about the charity projects, one suggestion was to do something for the troops overseas, possibly through the Aunt Nancy Project. I know Nancy! She's a former coworker and good friend of mine who started a project of sending cards and gifts to cheer up the troops since her niece was over there, and over the years it has evolved into a regular thing. Whoops my hand was in the air, that means volunteering to do it.

Another woman named Jackie teamed up with me to work on this. I liked the idea of getting to communicate with Nancy who has retired to California. She's one of those people that makes everything she's doing a bunch of crazy fun. Right away she sent me the name and information about a soldier in Iraq who is in charge of several teams of troops doing some dangerous mission. He wrote about how they liked to build relations with some of the local civilians who helped them by playing soccer with them, but didn't have nets for the goals. Also he mentioned that they liked to do things to take their minds off of the job by watching dvd's. Amber approved the funds for us to order soccer nets, and Jackie put a box in the coffee room for anyone to donate DVD's for them. I thought we might get one or two to add to some Christmas cards. We collected over 100 movies and TV shows, most of them new. Jackie and I went to the post office and shipped it out in several boxes, and I put a letter in there explaining who we were and what was included.

Well yesterday there I was sitting in my cubicle talking to someone and a guy walked up and handed me a package. It was a little thank-you note, and a folded up American Flag. There was a certificate in there that said it had been flown over their battalion in Iraq and was now being sent to us in appreciation. How very cool and unexpected. I right away got Jackie and we presented the flag to Amber. She put her hand over her heart and kind of staggered backwards a couple steps, she was overcome!

Amber is going to find a place in the office area to display the flag and certificate. It made me feel good that I was able to be a part of doing this, and as always with these types of things I seemed to get a whole lot more out of it than I put into it.

I was messaging an old friend about Sweater Day and she chuckled at the image of the people in our former department ever doing something like that. Hard to picture it. There have been the occasional attempts at social and charity activities, usually reluctantly organized by the overworked admins and a few eager up-and-comers anxious for any form of attention. I remember back when 9/11 happened and our big, loud, self-important executive director happened to have an all people's meeting just after it. He made a really corny speech and then pressured us all into pitching in money for a donation, and told us we should give blood too. I still remember sitting there snarling under my cloud of cynical negativity because it was so clear that the effort was all about him, and how good he thought it made him look to do this great thing, and the only people who put anything towards it were the ones who wanted to be seen doing it. And the coffee rooms are run by people who do it on work time and keep the profits for themselves.

I could be imagining the difference here but the thing that seems clear to me is that this new department is a place that I would like to fit in with, and I hope I eventually do.