Lysneland

2011-07-11T20:14:00.000-07:00

I'd like to tell you a story. It's like all the other stories, but a little different, so listen closely. It bears telling, this story, so that we all know what has brought us to this point. You may have heard part of it before; you may have lived part of it; you may have wished you lived part of it; you may be lucky enough to have been sitting by watching it all unfold. Now you will be a witness to the telling.

As many stories do, it starts with a baby. A sweet even-tempered, blueberry-eyed boy who only had two real difficulties - eating enough, and going to sleep. The baby fit himself into his parents' lives quite well - teaching them patience, and flexibility, and wonder. There came a point, not long after his birth, when the parents couldn't remember not being with the boy. And that was good.

So the boy ate, and grew, and ate, and grew, and eventually learned to sleep on his own. And he and his parents set out to explore the world.

Now it happened that they were visiting a mountainous place, and they stopped in a meadow for lunch. The meadow was huge - acres in all directions. The sun was hot, but the breeze was cool (as it often is in the mountains.) The scrub around them was filled with clicking sounds and once they got out of the vehicle, they saw that what made the sounds were not grasshoppers but hundreds upon hundreds of hummingbirds.

The boy ran after them on chubby 2 1/2 year old legs, trying to catch them, but never quite succeeding. Time became nebulous in that meadow: the blue of the sky matched the little boy's eyes - the smell of hot rock and crushed sage - the clicks and whirs of the birds - all melding together and somehow redefining the rules of time and space.

They returned home, filled with the magic of the mountains, and family, and hummingbirds. Later that year another blue-eyed boy joined the family - this one with eyes the color of a crystalline lake, or the light blue afternoon sky. And the blueberry-eyed boy took on a new role: brother.

He was a good brother, helpful and kind. He started school that year as well, and learned about sharing, and numbers, and frogs, and words. When he learned about words, he also learned about stories. There was one story in particular that he often shared with his parents. His stories always started "Remember when..."

He'd take a deep breath and tell story without pausing:

"Remember when we went to Colorado and I got stung by a hummingbird and it gave me special skin which is tougher than your skin so I don't feel cold like you do and I don't feel pain like you do? Do you remember that? Do you??"

And the parents would say "Yes we remember the hummingbirds, but we don't remember you getting stung." And the boy would shout "I did! I did!" and tears would come and threaten at the corners of his eyes. So no more was said of it by the parents. But when they'd press a sweater on him, or comment on cuts they were bandaging, the boy would look up at them with serious blueberry-eyes, and say "Remember when? Remember my hummingbird skin?" and the parents would smile and nod their heads, and set aside the sweater with a grin.

The boy was an observer. He'd sit back and watch with those big blue eyes. He appreciated scientific theory and logic, and yet, still hold onto the magic he'd found in the hummingbirds. He clung to black and white expectations for others: teachers *should* know more than their students; other people *should* be fair; little brothers *should * know not to touch his stuff.

When the boy was 6, and the brother 3, a sister joined the family. She had changeable eyes, sometimes blue, sometimes green, sometimes the dark grey of the sea in winter. Now the family was whole and complete, and somehow bigger than 2 plus 3.

The brothers were extraordinarily proud of their sister and she, in turn, was fascinated by them. They found a rhythm in their days, and in their lives, and it was comfortable.

Even with a sister in the family, the boy was dismissive of girly things. He'd use the term "whitish-red" to describe things that were pink. He'd put trucks and blocks into his sister's hand, hiding dolls and animals when he could.

He went to school, asking why or why not as the case may be. He read voraciously and remembered more than most. He told jokes, and ran races, and was pretty patient with his siblings.

Life moved on like it's been know to do. The boy grew in mind and body. Sometimes more in mind, sometimes more in body. Always stretching; always watching; always growing; always questioning.

****

And so we find ourselves here, at this point; where the meat of the story truly begins. We've finished the prologue for the most part, and are now eagerly anticipating "what's next".

In some cultures this is where the boy would go off into the woods for a week or so with a pipe, and some water, and no food, and wait for his totem to speak to him. In other cultures he'd train a bird to hunt, and when it was successful in the hunt they would call the boy a man. In this culture there is no recognized point at which the boy gets to move easily or assuredly into adulthood. Sometimes it's based on a number, sometimes its happenstance, sometimes its laziness on the part of the other adults. But this family has chosen: 29 years ago this family decided to start a tradition of recognizing this transition into adulthood.

When I was 13 (29 years ago!! ack!) my aunt Robin brought up this idea, and I was kind of skeptical. First of all it was different, which is pretty much the kiss of death for anything involving a 13 year old; 2nd of all everyone in the family would be looking and talking to me - almost every 13 year old also has a love/hate relationship with popularity and attention.

But she carved this beautiful heron sculpture, and my great-grandparents were there (a 4th of July celebration in Rockford, IL under the oak tree) and it turned out to be exactly right and just what I needed.

The ceremony has continued - all 9 grandchildren, and now Liam starts the next generation. If you will take the sculpture around the circle Liam, each family member will impart some advice, or reflection, or just think kind thoughts toward you. All you have to do is listen, smile, nod, or say thank you.

***

And so, with this, we say goodbye to the blueberry-eyed boy and welcome the young man who is taking his place....

2011-03-30T06:29:00.000-07:00

My Journey to Black Belt
by Lysne Tait

I wish I could say my journey to my black belt had an auspicious beginning. A fortune cookie, say, or a little old lady with a gnarled finger pointing me to the dojang; but it didn’t. My journey started with peer pressure. My husband and sons were going to taekwondo on a regular basis, my daughter wanted to go, and my new friend Tasma had just started. (I should probably add that Tasma was such a new friend, I didn’t even really know her name at the time - we had met in Pilates class. She was soft spoken, well read, and had rabbit-fur mittens.) She would bound up to me after Pilates and say “When are you going to go? You’ve got to go to taekwondo” and finally, sometime in February, I went.

That first class took me by surprise. It was so much more difficult than I had ever imagined. Even standing up straight and still on the mat was hard. I laughed out loud at myself and my inability to make my body do what I wanted it to do. It was fun - a lark. Not something that I was going to take seriously. It was just something to fill the time while my daughter was at school.

Slowly it changed into something more. I can’t even put my finger on the point when I started to enjoy the challenge; that point when I let taekwondo be part of my future; when I let go of being self-conscious. Instead of filling the time, taekwondo became purposeful. I was calmer, more focused - I could handle life in general, better. I was never one for sitting still and meditating. My mind would go off to a hundred places at once. I needed to do walking meditation - to keep my body moving so that my mind could be calm. The forms provided that outlet for me. Here was a place that I could let go of ought-to’s and should’s and just be.

I’m not a church-going person. I haven’t found the place that feels right yet, but taekwondo is close. The rituals, the acceptance, the support, the camraderie - I’ve seen similar instances in houses of worship. I belong and I love that I belong. My taekwondo friends have become family. I need that structure, that outlet, to keep sane.

My first tournament was nerve-wracking and fun at the same time. I didn’t participate in organized sports growing up, so I had never really been in a competitive atmosphere. My knees were shaking as I heard my group called to the staging area. They separated us by gender, age and belt level. My group consisted entirely of moms of other taekwondo students; instead of being competitive, they were very supportive. I came home with a few trophies, had a terrific time, learned a lot about competing, and became fast friends with the women in my ring.

Taekwondo slipped into other parts of my life. I set up a self-defense course for the parents at my daughter’s school. I typed up a list of addresses for Master Flotka, then designed a brochure, organized a volunteer spring cleaning for a former student who was incapacitated, and headed up a Holiday potluck. Soon I was working on the website and answering phones for Master Flotka and dreaming of getting my own staff shirt.

Now I help out with teaching a couple of times per week. I answer phones, pick up trash, cheer the kids on, and always have part of my mind thinking of the school. I am supremely thankful to those who pushed me in this direction (my husband Craig, my kids, Tasma, Mr. Duncan), and to those who have helped me along the way (Master Flotka, Master Lance, Maria, Melissa, Lindsey, and everyone I’ve been in class with). In every version of what I imagine I will do next in my life - taekwondo is a major player. I have become more self-confident, more engaged, more excited about life. I am looking forward to becoming a certified instructor. My black belt is not the culmination of a journey, it is the beginning: a most auspicious beginning.

2011-03-12T08:44:00.000-08:00

my heart is full, and heavy,
my limbs are aching with inaction and indecision;
restlessness runs up and down my spine,
- itchy fingers tracing patterns:

stress manifests itself into jawline pressure
crawls up to the top of my head
around my neck

so much to do
when all I really want to do is sleep, or read.
too many things too many things too many things

dishes mock me from the sink
dog hair blurs the edges of the floor, the couch,
the dirty sock islands

detritus of five lives deliniates high water marks in the house
(and this is when I worked until 8;

and this is when Craig was gone;

and this is Liams lacrosse practice;

Molly's party;

Adam's game; leftovers for dinner, or take out..)

tattoos beating in my head: you will nevernevernevernevernevernevernevernever

2011-03-12T08:41:00.000-08:00

Testing

Please write your answers on a separate sheet of paper.

The bruise seeps away from the toe, coloring the other toe and the top of the foot. I keep it up, raised, covered with ice, like the book says. The other toes are cold and stiff, but the movement of color slows and the swelling abates. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just pretty - purple and blue and pink. I am trying to figure out how I can still work out with this injury.

Please shade in the entire circle. Do not mark outside of the circle.

My husband is educating my son - finding Eddie Murphy on YouTube talking about Elvis, and lemonade. My son Liam is 13 and could care less, but he still comes over gamely. My other son Adam, 10, is at his computer, making the Google Translate lady talk to him in Spanish. “Liam sucks his thumb” becomes “Liam se chupa el dedo pulgar” - and he laughs and plays it again. There must be something magical about teasing your brother in another language.

and still, blood pumps rhythmically in my toe, pounding.

Use only a number 2 pencil to complete this area.

Sleet falls against the window. I am sitting on the “cold couch” - the one closest to the window. The couch is leather, and sitting here in the winter requires soft blankets, a warm computer and a cat, if possible. It’s a loveseat, and I can rest my foot on the arm - which ensures that the toe stays elevated. Condensation from the ice dribbles down the arch of my foot, tickling.

Do not leave your seat until notified to do so.

My daughter comes over to check my foot. Her forehead creases in concentration as she touches the ice pack. Her hand rests on my shin, and she giggles. “Cold hands mama! Didja feel my hand? Want me to tell you a joke mama? Would that make you feel better? Why did the skeleton cross the road?” Before the “d” of “road” is out of her mouth she jumps back in with the wrong answer “He had no body to dance with!” and then she is off again, caroming around the room; fearless.

If you have any questions, please raise your hand.

I do have a question... This is good, it is pleasant, I am warm, my family is happy, I want for nothing and yet

What do I want? What drags my shoulders down, carves lines in my forehead, forces my jaw together?

I am raising my hand wildly in the air

and no one comes.

2010-09-08T08:38:00.000-07:00

"We had a good run, and now it’s over; what’s wrong with that?" — Garth Stein

Today we had to put our dog Java down. She was 15, with arthritis and dementia, riddled with lipomas (fatty deposits), and in pain. Funny, how all that comes to mind is cliche: she's in a better place now, it was the best thing we could have done, and so on. I think, Oh, I'm OK, and then the tears run down my face.

Java was our training for children. I remember the first night we had her home, and I was teaching her how to go up and down the stairs when suddenly it hit me: I was Responsible for her well-being. I had to teach her how to be safe, to listen, to obey. I had to feed her, and give her water, and exercise her, and comfort her. I sat down on the top step and took her in my lap and promised her I'd do my best, even though I was scared. And we worked well together.

She was very protective of the kids, hated any man with a hat (sorry Mr. UPS man), and loved to snuffle under the bird cage. She tolerated Buck (the frisky 5-year old golden retriever), ignored the cat, and barked at us when we didn't go to bed on time.

Thank you Java. You will be missed.

2010-06-02T20:05:00.000-07:00

(as seen in ATA World Magazine - June 2010)

RELUCTANCE
by Lysne Tait

I did not want to join taekwondo. I had been watching for 7 years and I enjoyed being a taekwondo mom. I enjoyed my relationship with the school owner Mr. Elijio Martinez and his wife, the respect of the other students, and the ability to chat with the other TKD moms during class. I loved watching my boys and my husband do something they loved. Besides, I wasn't (and had never been) very athletic. Then, our school changed owners, my youngest decided to join taekwondo, and my mom's cancer returned. I thought all I needed was an outlet, but what I found and what ATA has provided for me was so much more.

I joined Master Flotka's ATA Black Belt Academy in DeWitt, MI in January 2009 with my 5 year old daughter. I was worried because classes were held at night - right around dinner time. How could I juggle the kids' classes, adult classes, dinner, and bedtime, and remain sane? My family stepped up. My son Liam (a 2nd degree Black Belt) had been urging me to join for years. He offered to babysit the younger kids while I was in class. Molly (my 5 year old) was just excited that we were the same belt color. My other son Adam (then a blue belt) would coach me on my kicks and stances, and my husband, Craig (also a 2nd degree Black Belt), offered to make dinner once a week (and help me learn my material and sparring, and ferry kids to and from classes). Our new school owner, Master Carl Flotka, a Sixth Degree Black Belt with more than 30 years experience also started a morning class twice a week, and that clinched the deal.

After watching hundreds of taekwondo classes, I thought I knew what to expect, but I was pleasantly surprised. I have never been surrounded by so many people who wanted me to succeed. For the first time in twelve years it was all about me. I have been a teacher, a wife, a mother, a friend - always worried about the welfare of others - and here I was, learning some something new, with people who wanted me to do my best. Taekwondo may be a competitive sport; the learning of taekwondo is not. At the end of my first class, I was in tears: overwhelmed by the kindness and support of my family, my instructors and my fellow classmates.

I was also in a position that I hadn't known in quite awhile - that of a newbie. For years I have been the expert, or at least pretended to be the expert. Joining taekwondo was a new beginning. I would get upset with myself because I couldn't remember 3 steps in a row, and my husband would admonish me by saying, "It's new. You’ve never done it before. It’s OK to not get it right the first, or third or fifth time."

I never expected to enjoy taekwondo. I never expected the friendships I've found, or the sense of accomplishment and pride I feel. I've been to 3 tournaments in the past year, and had an awesome time at each one. I've lost weight, tightened and toned, and feel incredible. Perhaps the most unexpected and life-enriching benefit is that of the family I've found. Taekwondo members cared for my house and dogs when we were called away to take care of my mom during her final week. I came back to DeWitt to a clean house, a stocked refrigerator, and flowers and other treats. But that’s simply what family does for one another.

2010-02-23T20:21:00.000-08:00

is it possible to fall in love with your love again?

there are times, when the sunlight falls through the window at a certain angle;

when his hand caresses a dog's ear, or a child's curls,

or rests on my knee - only for a second -

that the feelings rush to the surface, coloring my cheeks, and my breath sticks in my throat.

who knew, that after 20 years, my heart would still pause, and skip with delight?

It's not always like that - there are days when my teeth grind into each other and my eyes roll at every comment - but those days are scarce - sprinkled sparingly amongst the better days.

2010-02-18T20:03:00.000-08:00

Really? July was the last time I posted? Wow. My world has been rocked and then some since then...

At the end of September, Kisti, my mom, lost her battle with cancer. She had been fighting it/dealing with it for 13 years. And Oh! how I am so grateful for those years. I really thought I'd be more bereft. I am sad, and I miss her greatly - but it's only in those quiet times, in the middle of the busy times - when I used to call her just to say hi - that tears come to my eyes. My favorite quote right now is Edna St. Vincent Millay: "Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell. "

To keep myself sane, I've been doing taekwondo, taking care of my kids, reading, talking with my father. The taekwondo has been most helpful. We have an awesome TKD family - dinners once a week (20+ people), facebooking, coffee. I've been to two more tournaments, (2nd & 3rd in Sparring & Forms, both times). I'm now a blue belt - more than halfway to my Black Belt. This is so much fun. I never thought I'd be in TKD: I never thought I'd like it so damn much.

The kids are growing like weeds. M is 6 going on 21, A is the same, time-oblivious kid, and L is soo soo excited about starting Lacrosse - in a month. Craig & I have started our 21st year together, (OMG!) and we are enjoying our life with the 3 kids, 2 dogs, 2 cats & 12 birds.

2009-07-20T19:36:00.000-07:00

I participated in a taekwondo tournament in Kendallville, Indiana this past weekend. It was so much fun. I earned two trophies, a first in Sparring, and a second in Forms. Which is neat - I have never received a trophy for a physical feat before. (I did get a trophy when I worked at McDonald's back in the 80's. We got first place in the McDonald's Olympics for Drive-Thru.) But it was nothing like this.

I was nervous, but not terrified. When we left the house at 6 a.m. I had already been up for an hour: getting uniforms ready, gear bags packed, food for the drive, things to do for the drive, etc. It took about 1 1/2 hours to get to Kendallville (just north of Ft. Wayne).

The morning was taken with opening ceremonies, Tiny Tiger competition (The Divine Miss M competed - she's 5), and waiting. Finally, at about 3:15 they called White, Orange & Yellow belts 18 & over. Kim & I were the last to compete - luckily everyone else was engaged when we went on the floor. Craig was judging, L was scorekeeping for Master Flotka, Haley, Lindsay and Fletch were competing. M & A were playing in a corner. (ack - I was a bit concerned about them, but they're good at keeping themselves amused without hurting anyone - or each other!)

No one else in our ring had ever been to a tournament before - so that was good. I was told later it looked like the "ring of moms" - I'm not sure how many of us had kids in the tournament - at least 4 out of the 6. The judge was patient, and kind, and patient. (he had to be, poor guy) I enjoyed doing my form - even though I messed up the last move. I was most nervous about sparring, although at our level it's just one-steps. One person acts as the attacker - does 2 moves & stops - and the other person goes through 5-8 defensive steps. Then the players switch. So, there is no contact - supposedly :) .

Actually, after we were finished, I was ready for more.

We watched a lot of others compete. The third degree (and above) black belts did some weapons-fighting (so much fun - like hitting each other with pool noodles, but with flair!) And we watched the judges get to compete. I'm beginning to understand how things work in TKD.

Afterwards, we ate at Pizza Hut with a couple of other Lansing-area car-loads. And then, the long drive home.

The next tournament is in Fort Wayne, Indiana on Sept. 12. I will be a camo-belt then, which means real sparring, not one-steps. I know what I get to do next! Lots of sparring practice.

I cannot wait.

2009-05-18T20:11:00.001-07:00

Really, how did it get to be the middle of May?

and my last post was March?? geezlouise. Guess it's time for some priority setting. I've been having fun, enjoying life. Went to Texas for a b

it to see my mama & spend some time with my dear friend Pam. It was a wonderful, life-affirming time. I turned 40 while I was there. (what's up with that?? I don't feel 40.)

We went to see the Wall between the US & Mexico while we were there. I really didn't know that they actually started work on that wall. Really,

how many Walls-between-countries have ever worked? One? and that one was 3,700 miles long

and had slave labor build it. I took a few photos (with my cell) of the parts we saw:

2009-03-03T18:55:00.001-08:00

My purse was stolen on Saturday. (I'm not looking for commiseration - it was my own fault - I left it in the unlocked car in my driveway.) It was definitely a not-so-gentle push to look at my life differently.

So, the obvious things: be more responsible. Put things away, where they belong. (I'm sure some people will read that and say "well, duh" :) ) It did force me to clean up a bit - I wanted to make sure that the police officer didn't slip and fall on my dirty laundry, and I wanted to have a clean place to fill out the paperwork. I was also so upset with myself right after I found out that I did all the dishes and cleaned the kitchen.

I will find a central place to write all important info down. (and I will re-assess what I mean by important!) It was difficult to get a replacement debit card without a photo ID; it was also difficult to get my Driver's License renewed with only two pieces of ID. However, the lady at the License place let me renew it early, so I don't have to go back in two months. Hooray!

The other nice thing that was a result of this is that I got to get a brand new checking/savings account. Things will be so much easier to keep track of now. I have a starting balance!

I wasn't that upset about the physical things that were lost - I liked that purse, and the clicky wallet, and the checkbook made of recycled plastic. But, I have enough. If I didn't, I have ways/skills/options to make more money legally. What would it take to steal something? How much self-respect would I have to lose?

I am pissed at those who were responsible. The deputy said that he's following up on more and more robberies. He said it was the economy. I thought it was kids - they missed the iPod, didn't mess with the radio. But hey, they only got a dollar in my purse. I am horrified that someone had the audacity to walk up to my house in the middle of the night! Calm again because the dogs would never let anything happen to us. Angry because whoever it was had no reason to do this, and yet, I don't know what baggage they were carrying. They better not come back though. It is unsettling.

That is, actually, the best thing probably, about the whole situation. To be unsettled = less relaxed, more aware, better prepared. and I did start Tae Kwon Do today!

2008-12-07T18:52:00.000-08:00

These are our first 3 birds. They are zebra finches, and we got them in August. (From left to right: Susan, Jack and King Tut)

Not more than a month later, we had eight birds. (Susan laid 5 eggs, and they were all viable!) They are sweet. They have a chatter/chirp that isn't constant, but it is regular. At first I thought it would drive me crazy, but it doesn't. It is very calming - a kind of white noise that I really didn't know I needed until it was there.

Thursday I was changing their water and I noticed that the perches were all bloody. It wasn't a lot, but they are birds. It was King Tut. His belly was red, but he was fluttering around OK. So I didn't really give it a second thought. (This had happened to Susan within the first month, and she was fine the next day). Friday I found King Tut on the bottom of the cage, with his poor little orange feet in the air. I was all for just chucking him in the trash. Cold, I know - but I really didn't feel like having the conversations with the kids ( that I was SURE we would have) once we told them. Luckily, my husband saw reason, and placed King Tut in a butter-box and set him outside in the snow. The two boys were already at school, but my daughter, M, (who is almost 5) was still home. My husband gently took her onto his lap and said "M, honey, I have some sad news. King Tut died last night. Somehow he cut himself, and ended up dying." M took a deep breath, her eyes were wet and bright, and sighed. She said "OK, on the next sunny day, Mama will get a shovel, Daddy will bring the flowers, the boys will help me carry King Tut, and we'll sing him a song and bury him." Then she hopped off C's lap and said "Mama, are you ready to go to school yet?"

I really don't know where she came from. (grin) I'm glad she's the way she is, though. And it's not just tragedy that makes her start making lists & delegating. Today we were talking about how close Christmas is, and she started "we need to get the ornaments out - do you know where those are Mama? - and then the stockings. And we need to frost cookies." and so on. sigh. I am going to frustrate her - Poor girl. I just barrel ahead and do stuff, I don't think of a logical progression. (which is probably why I'm so tired all of the time.) It's more of a "oh, and I should do this" and then I do, which reminds me of something else, which reminds me of something else... etc.

***

Yesterday I went to a cookie swap. I made toffee. Mmmmm. Ya know, you really can't go wrong with 2 lbs. of butter, and 2 lbs. of sugar topped with melted chocolate chips. (some of it had pecans in/on it) . I came home with some marvelous cookies as well. I need to learn some photography skills.

***

I've been making felted flowers and then beading them. OMG so much fun! I take 100% wool sweaters (that I get from the Goodwill) and wash them in hot water, then throw them in the dryer, cut them into flower shapes and then bead the stamens. I've made them into pins. Then I've made a few stuffed animals - a mouse, a Totoro (Japanese wood spirit), a pig, a cat, etc. I had to take books back to the library UNREAD because I was having so much fun with the needle work that I didn't have time to read. The kids have been working with me. I'll try to set up some kind of photo booth so I can post pics. I've been toying with the idea of setting up an Etsy shop. (Have you been to Etsy? So.much.fun.) My friend Debbie has a shop here:

She uses a similar technique, but I'm not sure if she has any flowers on her site.

2008-12-02T18:42:00.000-08:00

How can it be December already? I guess I've been caught in the crush of kids-going-to-school, grocery shopping, and house-cleaning. (can't wait to read more about my exciting life, huh?)

My parents drove up in October from Brownsville, Texas. They brought their cat, Stella, in the back of the camper. My mom is doing well - this chemo is less toxic. Her hair has grown back, her strength is back. We had a blast while she was here. (They never stay long enough.) grin. I did put my dad to work - he built a mesquite counter top for us. So pretty. (and so useful. The kids just love sitting "at the bar".)

(SOAPBOX) I just have to scream for a moment. My parents are 64 (too young for Medicare), have no insurance, & a limited income (made even more limited by the recent stock market woes) - but not limited enough for Medicaid. In order to get the best price on a port (for her chemo) my mom had to shop around at hospitals for the best price. A port (so that they don't need to poke her veins each time) costs $11,000 if you have insurance - she got them down to $3,000. Of course, that does not include the physician, the lab work, or the anesthesia. It makes me so angry that she had to shop around for something that was integral to her care. Sigh. (end SOAPBOX)

But... in the interest of full disclosure, her sister had a fund-raiser for her that contributed; and her church also had a fund-raiser, so this one is covered. It still makes me angry.

+++

I decided this year that I needed to pull back a bit - to tighten my circle of concern. Mostly because I was worried about my mom and I felt I wasn't giving enough attention to my family. Also because I was giving giving giving, and not taking any time for myself. So, I took a leave of absence from the school board; I am not volunteering in the kids' classes; I'm taking Pilates at the YMCA. It's working very well. I have time to cook. I've been going Crazy with needle-felting/recycling sweaters into flowers and stuffed animals. I've been spending WAY too much time on the internet. I wish I could find some sort of balance, but maybe this is the way.

+++

2008-07-19T06:42:00.000-07:00

Last week we went to Wisconsin for a family reunion. It was lovely.

(It's not often that those two terms, family reunion and lovely are used in the same sentence.)

We were celebrating my grandfather's 93rd birthday. He was born in 1915.

The cottages were old, and fairly well cared for - linoleum tiles on the walls

(baby blue and dark brown in the kitchen, yellow and red in the bath), kno

tty pine cupboards and trim, gawd-awful beds with fitted sheets that didn't hold, and feather pillows with no support. I'd go back in a minute though. It was so nice to live in that leave-it-to-beaver kind of way - I'd send L to my aunt's house to get coffee, or butter. We'd take turns feeding the lot of us (15-20) at our respective cabins and then sit around and ask my grandfather questions about his early life. The kids and I sent him a book called "me and My grandfather" or something like that. It has lots of questions followed by blank pages to write in. we learned how he met my grandmother, (during a stomach surgery - she was a student nurse, he was a resident), their first date (in which they both held down a patient during electric-shock therapy), where he proposed to her (the garden of a mental hospital), why he decided to be a doctor, pranks he pulled. It was very very fun.

As my mom is dealing with cancer and the bitter aftermath of chemo, she couldn't come to the reunion. (too many germs for her suppressed immune system) So it was bitter-sweet to spend time with her sisters without her there. My mom has 4 sisters - I did get to look at each one and appre

ciate those parts of them that are like and not-like my mom. I really am so lucky to know (and be related to) so many interesting people.

and my girl-cousins were there, and they are wonderful and supportive and huggy, which is just what I needed. (one brother, and a few boy cousins were also there. They too are huggable, and creative, and super cool - gives me hope)

My kids loved spending time with those relatives. M fell in love with my aunt Sara. It came as no surprise, as Sara and M are cut from similar cloth: the youngest, very girly-girls. My aunt looks a bit older than me, but not much. She's fit, tan, and dresses the part. She and M were squealing over in the corner about being twins (they both had lip-shaped band-aids on), being the babies, etc. Sara said, “M, you'll have to come visit me” and a little while later, M came over to me and said “I have a new Mama now. You can come visit us.” and she was serious! When we finally figured out that M was planning on moving to Colorado (she is only 4!) it took us awhile to talk her down. So funny/cute/etc.

We came back home through the Upper Peninsula. What beautiful country! I can see why I-27/I-75 is packed every Friday. Who wouldn't want to run away to that?

2008-05-11T20:22:00.000-07:00

About two years ago, I visited an art gallery with my mom. (The Peachbelt Schoolhouse Studio Gallery near Saugatuck, MI www.peachbeltstudiogallery.com ) I was so moved by the artwork there I spent the drive home scribbling on the back of an envelope. (Yes, I was the only one in the car, and I was driving.) It's taken me two years to get up enough nerve to send the poem those scribbles turned into to the artist (Dawn Stafford), but I did, and she answered! So cool. And I'm so glad I did. Here it is:

++++++++++++++++++++++++
For Dawn Stafford

Schoolhouse Solace

I stood in the middle of the schoolhouse, looking at Vineyard Grapes V and was lost in them for a moment –

Felt sunlight dapple my arm

(As it must have yours

in that vineyard on that afternoon others might call lazy )

Could hear a fly, or a bee

Perhaps,

Buzzing around the dead fruit,

or your hair

Pausing on your shoulder

To look at the full dusky purpleness

I can only imagine your intention –

Never before have I wanted to speak so eloquently about work – not to define it, but to communicate how my spirit soars in recognition of the moment/light/image you've captured.

I look at the painting and my soul shouts yes yes yes! – that is it – I've been there.

dappled in sunlight

I'm not convinced that the magic lies in your schoolhouse. One look at the walls and how they work so well with your art; the flowers outside, the placement of pen and flyers and small studies of the larger work–the magic is in you – your ability to look at yourself

lay open for others that bare spot so vulnerable, raw and say

This is What I See. This is Who I Am –

it is beautiful and strong and so what I long for.

I so wanted to put my hand on your shoulder, reassure you that taking time for yourself, time to recharge, renew – is all important. You are right to do that. Right to take care of yourself. You can't keep giving so much of yourself to your paintings without caring for you. There won't be anything left.

It has been so long since words have forced their way out onto paper for me. I spent the entire ride home trying to capture them, trying to look out the window of my car and see what you see, trying to make sense of how those paintings rocked my world.

2008-04-26T19:11:00.001-07:00

I feel like I'm breathing through wet wool. I'm tired of coughing. Every exhale is an imminent cough. I can ignore the tickle for awhile, but then the urge to cough overpowers and my back & neck muscles tense up and the cough racks my body.

It's at times like these that I think of making my life easier. I barely have enough energy to make it downstairs, much less cook breakfast. And then, during one of my many naps today I dreamed that I was in WalMart. (For the record, I hate WalMart with a passion. The one here smells mildewy and most things are made in Vietnam or Korea. And I don't really want to fund the Sam Walton family's life.) At any rate, I was actually shopping at WalMart in my dream. So, when I woke up, I went. We needed bread anyway, and it was right there. UGH. If I wanted to make life easier though, I would go there. It wasn't as bad as I had remembered. (they've remodeled, and the smell isn't there anymore.) It was crowded, but every grocery is on Saturday anyway. The thing that struck me was the prices. It really was cheaper. If I wanted to relax my standards a bit, I could probably save an awful lot of money by going there on a regular basis. BUT... It is important to me to support my locally-owned businesses. I like knowing where my money is going. I like to know that some of my money will be reinvested in the community, somehow, someway. Yes, some of my money that I spent at WalMart today will go into the pockets of those who work there. Small comfort.
I really enjoy the small business owners I know. (Linda, Laura, Scott, Aura, Janice, John, etc) And I give them a lot of credit for doing what they do. It is worth a few more dollars to support them and reinforce that sense of community.

****

Just finished reading The Bone People by Keri Hulmes. Beautiful, poetic, and stirring.

2008-02-23T20:07:00.001-08:00

There's something about the lick of a cat

rough and gentle

that speaks of quiet nights and peace.

(Even though I hate the sight of that cat,

she's old and mean and doesn't like to cuddle.)

There are times when she pretends well – acts

like one would expect a cat to act, and yet

at that last second.

The split before your hand reaches the back of her neck

the pretense shattered, your hand touches nothing.

And so, each day. You'd think I'd learn

the cat doesn't like to be touched.

Yet I try, I get sucked into the calmness that surrounds

a sleeping cat

Teased by burnished black fur, glossy under the overhead light,

lulled into believing that this once, she'll capitulate.

Such is the curse of eternal optimism. Even the rats in the maze; even Pavlov

was successful in teaching his dogs the meaning of repetition.

Here I am, stuck in the endless loop of choosing to believe the best,

even from an old black cat that hates the world. Lucky for me she doesn't have claws.

2008-01-27T19:29:00.000-08:00

Our Weekend:

Saturday we headed down to Cobo Hall for the North American International Auto Show. It was fun. The kids enjoyed themselves and we did too. People were very kind, not pushy or rude (which I've come to expect with large numbers of people). The guy who took our tickets warned me against the high prices of the food inside.

The people-watching was incredible. All walks of life, all countries, lots of kids, tired moms & dads, dreaming teenagers. We sat down in a side hallway to share a bottle of water ($3!!!!) and a protein bar (between the 5 of us). This guy came up & said "I wish I had a camera - this is what life is about! Everyone sharing. What a beautiful picture." So nice.

Sunday:

Ugh. my arms/fingers are asleep/tingly this morning. Guess I carried M too long on my shoulders yesterday. (Large groups of people + an interested 4 year old = frantic mom-state.) it was easier for my heart to keep her up on my shoulders. (We did write our cell phone numbers on all three kids with a permanent marker in case we got separated. A & M loved their "tattoos".)

Cirque de Soleil (Saltimbanco) was delightful. I had the most fun watching M & A watch the show. We were on the main floor, in the back row, so the dancers/acrobats (I'm not sure what to call them) walked by us often. One in a pink dress patted M's hair for about 30 seconds or so. M was in heaven! Then C's coat had fallen off the back of the chair & another clown came up & put it over his head. Good for another couple of giggles from my kids. L was on the other side of C, so I didn't see his reaction to most of it, but M & A were all over my lap, and their two chairs. I was thankful we didn't have anyone behind us.

Gee, I am so lucky. We have had a tremendous weekend. I really do love my family, even if they aren't exactly sure where dirty dishes go... (that silver thing, with the water spout, in the kitchen? It would be the sink, kids.)

They were excellent travelers for the 3 hour round trips (both days!) And we only watched one DVD.

The blight of downtown Detroit makes me sad. (at least what we could see from the highway) So many burned out buildings, boarded up houses, closed down stores. A lot of fanciful names though: The Victory Social Club; The Pentacostal (sic) Church in Christ (founder, Samantha Bullet); my favorite building - I've never been in - King's Used Books. (OK, so that last one wasn't very fanciful, but when I see it, I know I'm close to Joe Louis Arena.)

2008-01-17T18:19:00.000-08:00

The Day After...

OK, so really it's the day after the day after, but why be picky?

The organizer wasn't as scary as I'd anticipated. She was oh-so-helpful (really) and very calm & collected about the whole house.

J (the organizer) handed me a pad of paper & a pen and we started walking through the house. She gave me ideas about how to tackle each closet and room. (Move this clothes-bar, install hooks for the kids, move the boots to this side, take off the door) And ideas of where to purchase the needed items. She also noted empty bookshelves and dressers and where they could be used elsewhere in the house. (who knew I had 3 empty dressers and 4 bookshelves to play with?) I followed with my pen & paper, taking copious notes and explaining my "organizational style". (those who know me well realize that I don't really have an organizational style...)

J gave me ideas for games to play with the kids to get them to do their part in the cleanup of the house, and a structure to do so. (Choose a time an hour before bed, set the timer for 20 minutes, give everyone a basket for their stuff & yell "go!" Race to get everything off the floor and PUT AWAY IN IT'S PROPER PLACE before the timer goes off. ) I mean, gee, that's a great idea, why can't I think of these things? I can think of 50 different things to make out of popsicle sticks, but I can't think of a way to get kids to pick up their socks. Sigh.

She also looked at my huge storage area (i.e. the basement!) and gave me ideas for that too. Then we tackled the room in the basement that could be a game room, but needed all the toys off of the floor first. While we were cleaning that room, we found two of the ORGANIZER's business cards - I had picked them up a different times thinking I'd call her - and a book at the very bottom of all the toys entitled Confessions of an Organized Homemaker.

Well now, most of my books are on shelves (oh so pretty!) and the games are on their own shelves, and there's space on the floor, and we found the loveseat. I have a plan for each room, and ideas of how to attack them. Now if only I could find some way to live on 4 hours of sleep...

2008-01-10T16:14:00.000-08:00

The organizer is coming! The organizer is coming!

OH SH*T, the organizer is coming.

I am approaching this with joy, and reservation. I crave order, simplicity, starkness; but I am afraid. Not of her judging me, because I know no one is harsher than I am about that! I'm afraid of what I'll learn about myself. Can I let the "stuff" go? What will happen to me once it's gone?
Will I be able to maintain? How many hours beyond the 3 1/2 I'm alloted will she have to be here?

She said not to clean before she comes. She needs to see how we use & don't use the space. I'm all aflutter. Since she said not to clean, I've had the biggest cleaning jones. Is that all I need? Someone to tell me not to do something, so I'll do it. The Reverse-Psychology Institute.

So, since she told me not to clean, I've been playing this week. On Monday, at the MSU Surplus I found a stack of vinyl records in the "free" pile. I took them home (yeah, I know, I am trying to git rid of stuff!) and looked up info on the web about making bowls from records. 200 degrees in the oven for 5-10 minutes, then form over whatever shape you like. Oh my. They look terrific and it is so fun! I've made some trays, some shallow bowls, some plant-pot-covers, and the beginnings of a purse. Now I have to figure out how to seal the labels, and sew in a lining in the purse - well, and a handle.

I also gave away 3 pieces of fabric from my stash.

Maybe getting rid of all this stuff will help get the rest of my life going. What-ever-it-is I'm doing next. I can only hope. and clean. and prepare for it.

2008-01-03T19:09:00.000-08:00

Cleaning and the New Year

L went to a friend's house for a birthday party today. I drove him over, went up to the door like a good mom, and peeked in the house. Oh my. My resolution this year is to be happy with what I have. I should have waited to make that resolution.

The walk was shoveled, they had Christmas decorations outside. The door opened to reveal a foyer, with halls on both sides of the wide staircase, The dining room table was dust-free, and shining. The thing that struck me was There was nothing on the stairs or the floors. This place was beautiful, and clean, and everything had a place. Obviously, they don't have pets, or children under 10. But oh, how I long for a room without stuff on the floor.

We have too much stuff. Too many books, too many toys, too many clothes. I know that. I know that I buy too much as well. Last year I gave 20 bags of stuff to Goodwill. I have two boxes of books ready to go in the next shipment. Oh, it is so hard to get rid of books. Like a junkie, I get a little shaky at the thought of fewer books around me. I haven't read every one, and I probably won't. So what's with this irrational desire to keep them, stroke them, need them? Oh Buddha mind, don't fail me now! I need to keep the lesson of impermance up front & centered.

And still, that siren Amazon calls.(well, emails at any rate) And the local bookstore (Schuler's) and I'm swayed by the call of QPB (free books!) and the emails from Barnes & Noble's. Somehow, I can't say no. This is my year of enough! I shall use the library, I shall get rid of 2 books for every one I bring in.

I do have an appointment with a personal organizer. I cannot wait. Somedays I just want to call for a dumpster. I get bogged down with the idea that I should be a steward for some of this stuff - preserve it for future generations, or at least my brothers, or cousins, or children. And then the headaches set in, and the clenched teeth & aching jaws.

What I need is an older sister to come in and clean up. C gets upset because I don't put things away; well, sometimes they don't have a place. Sometimes I get tired of being the designated place-finder. Sometimes I'm just too tired from cleaning up messes that other people make, that I just can't find the energy.

Today I was going to change my name. If I heard "Maaaammaaa" ONE.MORE.TIME. I was going to scream. How hard is it to walk around and find me? I haven't left the kitchen for more that 10 mintues today, and that was to either go to the laundry room or the rest room. Grrrr.

Wow. Time for some tea, methinks. Relax those jaw muscles, put my feet up, watch some brainless TV. (of course, there are dishes in the sink, dirt on the floor, laundry to fold...) sigh.

I am reading Kate Maloy's Every Last Cuckoo and enjoying it immensely!

2007-11-18T19:08:00.000-08:00

A Great Deal of Life is Attitude-

If we have much or little,

its been wisely said that we don't

own a thing but our names.

Everything else is on loan,

and there is only today.

--So pick from this day, at nightfall,

every joyful story,

every beautiful face,

every crumb of understanding,

--roll them up and climb into bed

and rejoice!
~Harriet Beckwith
(my grandmother)

We had Thanksgiving dinner today with our friends Amy & Carla & their kids. It wasn't much different from any other night we eat dinner together - delicious food, good friends, a place to feel comfortable. We didn't even talk about what we were thankful for, or say grace or anything. (Not that any of us subscribe to an organized religion. At least, not that I know of)

BUT I'm not criticizing, please please don't take it that way. It was delightful. I don't know exactly what it is that makes me so happy when our families are together. Everything seems to work - we can take over from one another in almost any situation. I've never had friends like them. I am so so thankful that they are part of my life; of my family's life.

And boy, am I thankful for that dinner - I won't need to eat until the real Thanksgiving now!

Isn't it funny though - today my dad emailed me the snippet from my grandmother. He's been going through his notebooks (he writes every day and has for YEARS) and he found that in a note from her. She was a wonderful woman, and I'm glad I got to know her so well. I miss her every day. She died 11 years ago next week. I still have dreams that I'm at her house, and she's just in the next room. I try and try to find her; to introduce her to the kids; to give her a hug, but I always just miss her. I can smell her in my dreams though - Paloma Picasso perfume, a little baby powder. I think of her when I comb my daughter's hair - it's the same fine, soft stuff. I hear her when I cook, when I have a cup of tea, when I'm getting a little manic trying to do everything all at once. She was a great one for living in the moment, but learning from the past.

Wow, 11 years - that is a lifetime ago. (My son's lifetime, at any rate!) She was one of my best teachers; one of my best friends. That's what I'm going to roll up tonight. Time to climb into bed...

2007-11-13T18:57:00.000-08:00

I sat in that room listening, the fire blazing, my heart full. Have you ever been in a place where you knew you belonged? A place that you had been waiting for? Been with a group of people who made your soul vibrate?

All last week I anticipated that meeting - a few, concerned educators trying to figure out how to best help/teach kids. People who are so tired of fighting the system - we know what works. Now we have to figure out how to do that without starving ourselves and our families. I was so worried that the meeting wouldn't live up to my expectations; that I'd blown the whole idea out of proportion; that others wouldn't have the same kind of dream that I have. All that worry was for naught.

There is something about kindred spirits - when we find each other, we KNOW. You remember that bubbly feeling of Possibility when you start a new relationship? It was there. The passion was palpable in that room. I looked around the circle and thought: Do I want to do this? With these people? Do I want to argue, orate, cry, laugh, scream, dance, work, and cry with these people? (I cry a lot) The answer was Hell yes! and Yes! and Yes! again. I have been waiting for so long. I am humbled. I am excited. I know there is a TON of work to do, and I cannot wait.

2007-11-05T19:10:00.001-08:00

My mom & I were talking about seeing people in extreme poverty, or people who have repeatedly made poor choices, or people with that "victim" attitude and we were wondering how to deal with it. What can we do to help, if anything? Is this a situation where we let Faith take over, recognizing that they chose (in a metaphysical way) that path this time? But that doesn't erase the need to be compassionate, does it? I mean, I can't just turn my back on them & say "well, that's the life they chose". I know me, and I know that I'd want to do something. (at least help teach them how to chose differently!) But then again, I don't want to be sucked into that victim-void either. I wish I could see the Big Picture sometimes, just for a second.

The reasons why people behave the way they do seems to keep reappearing in my life. I had a boss who used to say "Everybody wants to be Somebody, Nobody wants to be a Nobody" and that's why people behave the way they do.

Somehow, some way, everyone needs to be noticed - needs that acknowledgement that they aren't in a void.

Another theory I really like is from the book Helping Kids Help Themselves by E. Perry Good. This theory is that people behave in order to fill their needs, specifically Love, Power, Fun & Freedom. (Love can mean acceptance, Power can mean control, and freedom can be the freedom to choose.) I've seen this work well, and often, I've forgotten to take that moment, that deep breath just before yelling, and remember that my kids aren't behaving just to piss me off. For example, my middle son had a complete meltdown in the car before we even left school today. He was screaming and red-faced-angry. Finally I got out of him that he had been picked on most of the day today by a certain kid. We talked about strategies (he'd used most of the ones we had talked about last time) and he seemed to calm down a bit. Of course, his little sister was sitting in the very back seat, just trying to push his buttons all the way home. (grr) Once we got home, I thought he might need some control over his life, so I gave him some choices. He decided to help me with dinner, setting the table, cutting up veggies. (Yeah, great idea Lysne, give the angry 7-year -old a knife...) He was fine though, and was much calmer during & after dinner than I've seen him in days.

Ya know, it works even better when I remember to look at my own behavior/needs before I let the kids get to me. If I can find a place to hide - the bathroom, under the stairs, in the closet - and take quick stock of what I'm missing right then (Love), I can address it (Honey, can I get a hug?) and then be on a more even keel. Perhaps even remembering to look at behaviors... and not taking things personally.

2007-11-05T16:30:00.000-08:00

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

2007-10-04T19:29:00.001-07:00

October - and the trees are stripped bare (I love U2)

Well, it's October and 80 fricken degrees out. I'm ready for autumn, for cold nights and wind; for election signs and pelting rain; for football at night and bonfires and hayrides. I am NOT interested in sunburns, or mosquito bites, or swimming. I live in the Upper Midwest - we have seasons here, dammit.

The nice thing is that the kids are in school - and loving it. Well, M is - she's so in love with her teacher, and learning. Every morning she pops up and says "is it a school-day or a home-day?" When I say School-Day she bounces up & down yelling "goody goody goody!" (of course, she does that on home-days too. There's not much that disappoints that child.)

Her brother A is not as excited about school. I think he sees school as an interruption in his day. He'd much rather play. Now he's in 1st grade and the emphasis is on working more & harder, not on playing. He is just not thrilled. Oh well.

The oldest, L, is in public school for the first time (he's been in Montessori for 5 years.) It's a difficult transition (mostly for me!) but he's handling it well. He gets bored often, and isn't real excited about "neatness" but, hey, he's my child, so he wouldn't be!

I went to see Suzanne Vega last Saturday. What an awesome show. I wrote her a thank you note! It was an incredible venue, very small and intimate. And she rocks!

L just had me read The City of Ember by Jeanne DuPrau. I am so glad there are 2 more books in the series! It was that good. I have been reading some Patricia Briggs (the Raven series), some Martha Grimes (everything, I think!) and Margaret Maron. (I let a few get past me!)

2007-08-28T08:43:00.001-07:00

love is the every only god

who spoke this earth so glad and big
that even a thing all small and sad
man, may his mighty briefness dig

for love beginning means return
seas who could sing so deep and strong

one queerying wave will whitely yearn
from each last shore and come home young

so truly perfectly the skies
by merciful love whispered were
completes its brightness with your eyes

any illimitable star

- e.e. cummings

2007-08-27T20:29:00.000-07:00

14 YEARS

Tomorrow is our 14th anniversary. I just can't get over that. On one hand, it seems like it can't be that long, and on the other, I can't remember (really) not being married. (or at least not being with C.) In November, we will have known each other for 20 years - more than half my life!

Our wedding was fun, outside, with picnic baskets and green grass and volleyball. I have no regrets - I've enjoyed the ride - and I'm still enjoying it! Three kids, two dogs, a few cats, we've bought and sold houses and cars and we still like each other. I don't think we could ask for more than that.

We still go out on dates, dance with, joke with, and tickle each other. We like to learn things, and do things (canoe, bike ride, hike) together and apart. We both have myspace accounts, and facebook accts, and spend our evenings watching tv & playing on the internets.

I am lucky, so lucky. We irritate each other occasionally, but that's ok. We get to make up after. <>

Here's to many happy returns of this day.

2007-08-06T20:12:00.000-07:00

Totoro, totoro, I love totoro....

2007-07-24T19:23:00.000-07:00

Journaling Exercise: Putting Yourself First

Oy. This lesson keeps coming into my life. Funny, I can say it until I'm blue in the face, I have "take care of you" written all over my calendar, but I haven't internalized it yet. I have a friend that refers to this as the oxygen mask approach. When you're in an airplane and the pressure drops, they say to make sure you put your mask on first BEFORE you help others.

I feel guilty when I do things for myself. I am a stay at home mom of 3, (ages 3, 6, & 9) so my days are pretty busy. I often forget to take time for myself, or I stay up until midnight or so in order to have some peace. BUT, I also don't want to teach my children that being a martyr is OK. I want them to learn to take time for themselves, to understand that it is imperative to have alone time, or together time for the parents, or to be interested in things that have nothing to do with the family, and one can do that and still be a good parent.

I belong to another online group of women, and we've discussed this issue of not taking care of oneself, or not putting oneself first numerous times. I'm amazed that so many women don't, and yet, I'm not amazed at all somehow. It is so easy to deal with other people's problems and ignore my own.

I don't like feeling guilty all the time, and I've asked friends before about where this antiquated feeling comes from. (Feeling guilty because I'm not working outside the home and my husband is; feeling guilty because I can't handle EVERYTHING with aplomb and grace; feeling guilty because I want to take time to read a little, and there's dishes and laundry and vacuuming to do and kids screaming "mama mama mama mama".) Obviously, I didn't listen very well last time I asked!

It's all related to not taking the time to connect with the spirit. Putting pressure on ourselves to be perfect, not carving out time for what is really Necessary.

2007-07-15T19:27:00.000-07:00

The Divine Miss M

Oh to be 3 1/2 again!

2007-06-27T19:54:00.001-07:00

How do you see yourself in relation to others?

hmmm. I think this is easiest to approach if I talk about the disconnect I feel sometimes when others say things to me that I don't feel is at all accurate. Other parents at school often comment on how calm I am and how they could never deal with 3 kids, especially with a husband who travels often for work. I don't feel calm - often I've just finished a tantrum in the car. (or I've WANTED a tantrum). I think I'm probably like a lot of people - I feel unsuited to a lot of situations, uncomfortable because of a lack of experience, or know-how, or whatever. I often forget that I am good at teaching, and I love spending time with children. It's easier to hide behind the simple Stay-at-home-mom facade sometimes. I remember being very upset when I was teaching because everyone thought of me as dis-organized (I liked piles of stuff, rather than files - but I didn't lose things. Really.)

I do wonder why/long for a little bit different kind of life - granite-countertops, BMWs, and a laundry/craft room, more $$ in the bank, etc. I look around at my house (inherited furniture, lots of dog hair, and books, and legos) and wonder how in the WORLD I could ever get it to look more like the Pottery Barn catalogs. And then I've also thought that more money could FIX everything. (ha!)

I do notice that I get more into that whole thing (the house-lust, the longing for a car that is NOT a mini-van, etc.) when I'm around other people more (like during the school year). It probably doesn't help that my kids go to a private school, and the parking lot contains cars that often are worth more than my mortgage. (ok, well almost!)

I'm much happier when I have time to myself. When I'm not rushing around delivering kids, and lunches, and stuff. I spend a lot more money during the school year too - and drink more coffee (drug of choice).

On the other hand, when I've been spending a lot of time with my kids, I don't want more stuff. I have a hard time getting motivated to move out of our comfort zone and go to a park, or do something outside of our house. Same with my extended family. I love having them visit. My parents often stay for 2-3 weeks and I wish they'd stay longer, or visit more often. It's not that I don't like going to parks, or having playdates, or visiting museums, etc. I just love my family, and I get selfish about them.

2007-06-27T18:38:00.001-07:00

insomnia

sleep evades me - a little kid caught up in a game of catch-me-if-you-can, if you dare, if you want.
My teeth clench and unclench
muscles too. leg, shoulder, arm, fingers.

I should be able to get past it all - close my eyes and let it go
(let what go? what is it that makes my heart race, my legs want to kick kick kick, my eyes blink open to watch the time tick by)

I make lists of my lists. to do tomorrow, next week, at the library.

I start the dish washer, get coffee ready, fold clothes.

sit in this chair
one knee resting on the other
hard wood pressing against my back, my thigh, my calf
elbow on the placemat. the blue one that will waffle my skin long before I decide to go back to bed.

Yawns escape teasingly. the cat makes one last circut and then settles down near the birdcage. i finish my tea
turn off the light

and shuffle back upstairs.

2007-06-20T21:19:00.001-07:00

ANGER

I don't think about anger very much. I do get angry. Mostly when I'm frustrated. I have three children (9,6, and 3 years old) and I've cracked a tooth by clenching my jaw too tightly when they didn't get in the car in a timely (to me) fashion, or get dressed, or listen to me. I don't understand where that anger comes from, well I do, but I don't understand the intensity of that anger.

Although if I think about the rest of my life, the little things that pile up like dirty clothes, I can see it. I am a very patient person. It usually takes a lot for me to get upset. And when I do, I don't know that I'm allowed to let anyone know. (More of that child energy, perhaps?)

When I was teaching, we had a set of questions to help our students get through situations that angered them: What? So What? Now what? My dad just reminded me of that little triplet, and it seems to help. It is fun to get angry at things that I have no control over (other drivers, for instance) but then I remember that I have others in the car with me at all times (the aforementioned kidlets) and what am I teaching them in that instance?

Recently (well, this year) I was able to follow through on my anger (a friend betrayed my trust, and I called her on it) and not be blaming or shrew-like and it felt good.

2007-06-13T20:41:00.001-07:00

Fear

As an assignment for a class I'm in, we had to discuss our fears. At first, I didn't think I had any. (ha!)

I'm afraid of
1. listing my fears. It's taken me a week to do this. If I list
them, then I might actually have to deal with them.

2. snakes (that one's easy)
3. Hurting anyone's feelings
4. disappointing my husband
5. not being able to communicate well with my kids
6. losing myself in my life of stay-at-home mother/wife
7. confrontation... and yet
8. NOT confronting issues that bother me
9. accepting praise
10. not knowing what I want,
11. (and by extension) not being in control.

What are you afraid of??
(and you can't say ending a sentence in a preposition...)

2007-05-31T19:16:00.001-07:00

Trying to get this in before the end of May, so I don't mess up my average of posting once a month...

I was tagged by my friend Marc - 7 random things about myself...

1. My name is a verb. Lysne (in America, rhymes with Disney, in Norway it's lees na) is a Norwegian verb meaning "to become light". According to my grandmother, the town of Lysne (in Norway) is near the arctic circle. They were the first to get the light after the winter months of darkness. The people of Lysne would sound the alarm on alpinehorns and let the rest of the communities know the light was coming. They were often referred to as "the people of the Light".

2. I read constantly. I usually have 2 or 3 books going at a time, often in different parts of the house. Today I'm reading Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen, Jovah's Angel by Sharon Shinn, and Don't Look Down by Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer.

3. My parents were hippies - I"m lucky I wasn't named Rainbow. We lived in the Haight when I was 4 months old, and before then we lived in a communal dwelling in Crested Butte, Colorado. We moved to Michigan when I was 3 and I have been here for 30-some years.

4. I've been to every state except Alaska, Hawaii and Rhode Island. (See number 3)

5. I make a mean apple pie. One of my pies went for over $25 at an auction one year. (My crust is to die for... really.)

6. My favorite car is a 1968 Porche 911, pale yellow with a dark green interior. NO whale tail.

7. My right "pointer" finger is not straight because I slammed it in a car door on my 12th birthday.

whew. Now I have to tag 7 others:
Anne
Claire
Merritt
Jen
Shelley
Liz
Jessie

2007-04-09T20:23:00.000-07:00

April

Whan that aprill with his shoures soote
The droghte of march hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
Whan zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
Tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the ram his halve cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open ye
(so priketh hem nature in hir corages);
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,

My high school English teacher Mr. Seal, would scream this from the front of the room in the beginning of April. Usually without warning.

(He was short, and dramatic, and energetic, and PASSIONATE.) We had no idea what to do with him.

We were small town high school kids, searching for coolness. Passion, true passion, has nothing "cool" about it. We knew about being HOT, but that too, had nothing to do with being passionate. Mr. Seal was the fodder for many jokes, and fond reminices later in life. We respected his passion, in our own ways. Mostly after rolling our eyes.
===++++++++++++++++=====

We had an interesting discussion during Easter dinner yesterday. What goes on in your mind? Are you able to think of nothing? Do you have a narrator/voices that chatter in your mind while you look around?? The only time I am able to turn off my narrator is while I'm reading. My husband can have nothing in his head. I have a voice that is listing everything that needs to be done, or is describing things all the time.

I'm interested in how other people think/the conversations that they have in their minds.

+++===++++++++====
I'm reading Eagle of the Ninth by Rosemary Sutcliff and The Diamond Age: A Ladies Illustrated Primer by Neal Stephenson.

2007-03-30T18:37:00.000-07:00

Spring has sprung. I know - I live in Michigan - there is a chance of snow up until May. But, the daffodils are blooming, the hyacinths aren't far behind. I pass red-wing blackbird sentinels on the entrance ramp to the highway.

My refrigerator is filled with lovely produce: new asparagus, fresh lettuces, bright green scallions. I love spring. Of course I love to eat... Mmmm. We got the grill out this evening - it started to rain as soon as I lit the charcoal.

It is spring break for the kidlets. We started it off with TMNT (teenage mutant ninja turtles) movie. Fun. Ok, well it was until 1/2 way through when A threw up, loudly. Poor kid. He looked so pale and white afterwards. He didn't miss much of the movie, though. Poor girls in the row in front of him - it was kind of stinky.

So, I am spring cleaning. It wasn't exactly planned, however. A new box of olive oil - purchased for the cool packaging - leaked all over my corner cabinet (one of those with the spinning shelves). As soon as I got that cleaned up (which involved taking the door off of the cabinet, and all the food out of the cabinet, and then replacing all of the above) I noticed that the floor was wet. The seal around the drain in the kitchen sink failed. After emptying out that cabinet, and drying it out, I started cleaning out the utility sink in the laundry room. M called me for something and I accidentally left the water running. The plug was in and the entire sink overflowed. Some time later, I realized that the water was running. and running, and running. It ended up raining in the basement. C was NOT HAPPY. Neither was I, truthfully. The copious amounts of dirty clothes on the laundry room floor were soaked. The storage room in the basement was wet. I ended up being late picking up the kids from school. But now I have a sparkling laundry room. and kitchen. (But really - could someone let the universe know that I can handle the rest of the house without any "encouragement"?)

Just finished reading two Carol O'Connell mysteries, the newest Deborah Crombie mystery, and I'm in the midst of The Eagle of the Ninth by Rosemary Sutcliff for the YARG (young adult reading group) on Readerville.com

2007-03-06T18:33:00.000-08:00

love is more thicker than forget
more thinner than recall
more sooner than a wave is wet
more frequent than to fail

it is most mad and moonly
and less it shall unbe
than all the sea which only
is deeper than the sea

love is less always than to win
less never than alive
less bigger than the least begin
less littler than forgive

it is most mad and moonly
and more it cannot die
than all the sky which only
is higher than the sky

-e.e. cummings

This poem was hung in my grandmother's kitchen. I read it every day my senior year of high school and never thought of what it meant. Each word is familiar, recognizable, comfortable. In the summer I'd run the paths around the "farm" and each bump, each tree, each stone was remembered by my body. Breathe, breathe, step, step, jump a bit, duck. This poem is the same way. I love the way it sounds, the way it feels on my tongue. I'm thinking of hanging it in my own kitchen - and then I think I should find my own anthem to display, or write one. As I re-read the poem I wonder what my grandmother liked about it. Did she like (as I do) the alliteration? The idea that love is mad and moonly? What was her idea of love - she who eloped and didn't tell her father for 3 months that she was married (in the 1930s); the mother of 4 children (1 adopted); the country doctor's wife? My favorite line is "less bigger than the least begin". Perhaps this poem was her way of warning me about expectations.

I was looking for some books tonight for a friend. I thought they were down with my school stuff, but I must have put them somewhere else. I did find this poem, and 3 other books I haven't read, 1 book that I was discussing with my father today, and a buckwheat-hull pillow. There are times, (many, many times!) that I wish I was a more organized person, but where would the fun be in that? I enjoy these mini-treasure hunts, and the fact that there are more books in this house that I need to read than books I've read.

Oooh, I just finished The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. Wow. This was a poignant, enchanting, moving, poetic book. After I'd read the last chapter, I turned back to the beginning and started over. We're having a discussion of it at Readerville (in fact, I'm discussion leader, and I can't think of anything intelligent to say. I just want to gush!)

I've also read Beka Cooper: Terrier by Tamora Pierce, a Sharon Shinn book: Dark Moon Defender, and a Lois McMaster Bujold novel: The Sharing Knife: Beguilement. Now I'm in the middle of a Jane Yolen book about Dragons, and East by Edith Pattou.

2007-02-11T19:19:00.000-08:00

Slow as Molasses in the winter....

The thing is, molasses moves slowly, but it still moves. I was cleaning my counter and found a small drop of molasses behind the coffee maker. hmm. Interesting. I followed it up to the bottom of the cabinet. Opened the door - moved EVERYTHING from the first shelf - just a few thin lines of molasses dripping down the back. So I cleaned off the second shelf. More lines of molasses, thicker here, but not the source. I tackled the third shelf - bingo. An entire bottle of molasses had emptied out, slipping under baking supplies: chocolate, colored sugars, Fruit Fresh. I had to take the wooden part of the shelf out, run it under hot water. My house still smells like molasses and the contents of that cupboard are on the counter. I ran out of energy.

Well, that, and I've been held hostage by Lois McMaster Bujold this weekend. I read Paladin of Souls and The Hallowed Hunt this weekend. In both cases I was completely lost in the book. Mmm - it is so delicious when that happens! I practically ignored my children & husband, some meals, and the dirty dishes, but did I have fun! Next up The Sharing Knife: Beguilement by Bujold. I think the one thing that I love about her work is her characters' ability to swear. Not with words that would be considered rude in our society, but they work so well within the worlds she's created. I am envious of her ability to create believable worlds. Of course, I often wonder if I would be well suited to live in a world like that - no technology, basic basic needs met only. Could I kill a chicken? Could I make bread for my table & clothes for my children's backs? Ride a horse? Could I survive?

That's a question I ask myself often. What could I do if I needed to? With so many choices of things that I can do every day, and not much that I absolutely need to do, will I lose somehow that part of me that makes life & death decisions? If there was a war, or something that devastated the world, could I survive? Could I help my children? What skills do I really have? and could they translate into some other kind of life?

Ach! Too much philosophy for tonight. more later...

2007-02-08T16:23:00.000-08:00

I fell in love with my hands tonight. My 3 year old gave me a manicure yesterday - hot pink with glitter. Most of my nails are covered. It feels heavy and catches my eyes at inopportune times.

I'm fascinated with how much my hands look like my mother's hands. Kind of dry, each follicle is obvious, each crease and bend mapped out. I wonder what a palmist would say, following my life line, my heart line, my head line. I remember in elementary school we'd try to predict how many kids we'd have, or whether we'd die young and tragically, or marry well, just by reading palms.

I press my fingers together. Namaste. I press my thumbs against my eyes, near my nose, my first fingers touch my forehead. My fingers bend and voila - a cathedral of flesh. My water glass shines blue through my pinkies: a stained glass in blue at the altar.

I stare at my palms again, wonder at the geometry of the lines: right angles, obtuse angles, bisecting parallelograms. Math has a certain poetry, as long as you aren't stressing about it.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I'm listening to Loreena McKennitt An Ancient Muse It is beautiful. Haunting.

I just finished King Dork by Frank Portman (see his blog at http://www.doktorfrank.com/) This is an excellent book - Mr. Portman has caught the essence of being a misfit teen. I enjoyed it tremendously. (We're discussing it at the YARG - Young Adult Reading Group on Readerville - www.readerville.com )

2007-01-28T17:58:00.000-08:00

Trust.

Such a small word, it looks strong, doesn't it? No flimsy apostrophes, no weak hyphens, all strong, solid letters. But it is so easy to break. I shared something I shouldn't have, with someone I trusted, and now? I shouldn't have trusted her. Of course, I shouldn't have said it in the first place either, so I'm as much to blame.

However when I confronted her about her indiscretion, she blew me off. "Oh, I screwed up. You'll just have to punish me then."

!!!!!!

I am not her mother. I'm not looking for justice. An apology would have been nice. (and truthfully, she may have apologized, but the "punish me" comment stuck in my head, so anything she said after that is hazy.) I would have appreciated some indication that she realized that what she said affected me - her friend.

Ah well. Perhaps it's the universe, giving me a shove in the proper direction. I've been so aimless lately, lots of "shoulds" and things to think about, but without a true course. Was that my FedEx moment from above? (see last post)

Ooooh, my house is beautiful. Saturday was a Taekwondo tournament. C, A, and L were all part - C is now a 1st degree black belt, L is a 2nd degree black belt (at 9 years!), and A is a green belt. I told another friend I'd watch her kids. Her middle son, K, was sitting in the stands watching the tournament when he accidentally dropped his PSP game. It smashed on the floor and he was in tears. (he's 10) When A finished his portion of the tournament, we hopped into the van and went back to our house. K was so upset, and trying to figure out how to make some $ to buy a new PSP - so I said "if you help me clean, I'll pay you". He said "I love to clean." I told him he should wait until he saw my house before he said he'd help.

At any rate, he did a wonderful job, he cleaned, vacuumed and steam-cleaned my living room. (it took 2 hours!) I told him to come back on Tuesday & help me with A's room. Yippee!

And, the cleaning bug was catching. I got the kitchen cleaned up too. It makes me so happy.

I read The Thirteenth House by Sharon Shinn - I didn't like the write up on the flyleaf, but I read the book anyway and it was much much better than I thought it would be. Next up King Dork by Frank Portman.

2007-01-19T18:29:00.000-08:00

Well, how the heck did that happen? All of a sudden it's the middle of January, 2007.

Oh frabjous day! Today has been delightful. I had coffee with my dear friend and her son Kieran. He's 1 1/2, a beautiful boy, so serene. He has Down's, and is my first experience with a child with that challenge. There is something there that just hits me in the middle of my chest when I spend time with him. Not to sound sappy, or new-agey or anything, but I am certain I knew him Before.
Then off to lunch with Jen & her daughter. Jen was my student, and I can still remember the day I found her on my couch (in my classroom) crying and pale and shaky. She wore a burgundy shirt, and her long hair was in a pony tail. Her boyfriend was holding her and I asked what was up. She told me she was pregnant, and I held her for a long time.

Omigosh - Jen is an AWESOME writer - I used to love to read her stories. Vampires and telekinesis - (insert delightful shiver here).

Lunch was so fun, and I felt so fulfilled and reconnected. I've been playing around on Myspace, finding people I miss so much. Tonight I logged on and another old student found me. I still have a copy of her senior project - a chapbook of poetry. What an affirming day.

Funny, I've been so up in the air about what to do next with my life. Some days I want a job so much I can taste it, and others, (especially after we watch The Office), I'm so glad I don't! A few months ago I knew I was supposed to put together a middle school, and then, suddenly, I'm not so sure. Does fate change? What is destiny? There are days, like today, that I wish Whoever Is In Charge would just send a FedEx envelope with directions inside.

"Dear L,
Start a school. Put it in Lansing,
and open it to everyone.
I'll send someone to pay for it.
Love, God/Allah/Buddha/whoever"

Somehow, I don't think I should hold my breath.

Let's see, I've read more Sharon Shinn this month: The Dream-Maker's Magic and The Truth-Teller's Tale - so good, so comfortable, so DELICIOUS. I have such a sweet taste in my mouth when finished with her books. Next up The Thirteenth House if I can ever find it! (it's another Shinn) I've been into Da Vinci's Inquest on TV too. It's a detective show from the late 90's-early 2000. So GOOD!

2006-12-12T18:38:00.000-08:00

I have a burning desire to live for a year somewhere very remote. Like Alaska, or the Scottish Highlands, or an island in Wisconsin - where I'd have to buy food in bulk for the winter and homeschool my kids. I'm sure I'd go crazy, but still.

It's a busy day here at Chez Petri. L has scarlet fever (basically strep gone bad - kid has a HIGH pain tolerance and doesn't know when he has strep) I have strep, M & A are going to the doctor this afternoon, cuz I'm thinking they have it too - I don't know how they swallow with those tonsils. Husband has doctor's appt this afternoon - he is not getting better either. (He had the real live flu a week and a half ago, went to Calif. for work for a week, came home with a double ear infection and a hacking cough. )

Soooo. I spent the morning with a bottle of spray Clorox cleaner. My house is spotless from about lightswitch height down. I need a bug bomb for strep...

I do know that I am lucky. My kids seem to get one huge illness about twice a year. I have friends whose kids are sick every week. And no one has asthma.

I really thought I'd be down & depressed, but it's so ridiculous it's funny. Although, everyone MUST get better soon - I'll never get anything together for Xmas or A's b-day (on Friday) if they aren't at school.

2006-12-02T18:40:00.000-08:00

How can it be December? I mean, really. According to my last post, it was just October.

Well, it's been an interesting day. I don't know if I'll have any hair left next week. My husband leaves for San Jose tomorrow until the 8th, and M has been a holy terror today. She drew on her face (and other things) with red marker, that wasn't exactly permanent - but difficult to get off. (I tried alcohol, which got it off the couch, and the TV, and the carpet, but not her skin.) Then, while I was in the shower, she cut off half of her hair. (she doesn't have much to begin with.) My other two children NEVER cut their own hair (or anyone else's!) Then, this evening, she & A were in the big bathtub splashing around and my husband came running up yelling something about the water. Turns out, the water they had been splashing was dripping down the light fixture in the kitchen (right underneath the tub).

ARRRRRRGGGGH.

It doesn't help that my husband has the cold that I had two weeks ago (Hello! I cooked Thanksgiving dinner feeling JUST LIKE THAT) and he is a big fat baby about it. Ok, well not exactly a baby, but he is sleeping while all this other stuff is going on, and it makes me crabby. I have no patience for sick people. I am a very nurturing person at all other times in their lives, but when they are sick, I can't handle it. (awful, huh?)

I started a Yahoo!Groups for the middle school discussion, but no one is saying anything on it yet. (it's viamontessori) It'll happen eventually (both the discussion AND the middle school) - there is just a learning curve, and I have to invite more people, come up with something intriguing to say and then...

I'm still on the Sharon Shinn bender - I read more of the Samaria series, and a Twelfth House book. Verry nice. I put down the Jovah's Angel after my last post & can't find it. (Ack!) I read an awful T.A. Barron, but it was his first, so hopefully they get better. And L & I have been listening to Sabriel by Garth Nix. Something about the snow that makes me want to read that book again and again.

Well, I'm working on a paper discussion the various options for a Montessori Middle School, so I should get back to it. If it works well, I might post it. Everyone is asleep, so it's quiet here, except for the hum of the portable heater, drying under the bathtub.

2006-10-26T19:20:00.000-07:00

This picture is from the MSU Student Organic Farm in September.
We went to the Farm to pick up our CSA share today. They had just moved the chicken coop, so we went to look at the chickens. The rooster crowed while we were watching and it scared M at first. A was there, asking in his mile-a-minute-5-year-old-way about every aspect of chickendom. And the rooster kept crowing.

So on the way home, M kept saying “cock-a-doodle-doo” and “I’m a mommy rooster”. (we have some talking to do, still – but what do you expect when Disney puts out movies with boy cows?) At any rate, the conversation at the dinner table was also peppered with Cock-a-doodle-doo’s. C was explaining to M that other languages attribute different sounds to animals. In Japan a rooster says “eek-a-reek-a-ree”. A started asking about German, and Spanish, and Chinese and we had no idea. Does anyone else know?

I just finished reading Rescue from Domestic Perfection by Don Ho. It was WONDERFUL. He is the anti-Martha. There was an article last week in the NYTimes about him - he was a successful restauranteur (with all the trappings) and decided that it was too much. So now he's down to 55 possessions. Ok, so that's a bit extreme, but a girl can dream! It was a very persuasive book, and now my hallway is echo-y and beautiful, because I got rid of the stuff that had accumulated there. (OK, so not all of it is actually put away, but it is closer than it was!)

I've also been reading my magazines: Sunset, Cook's Illustrated, Cook's Country, Popular Science, and Brain Child (that one actually came last month, I just haven't gotten to it until now). I would like to order Ready Made, but I think I have enough for now.

2006-10-23T21:10:00.000-07:00

We picked these apples on Friday the 13th. I made them into apple crisp this evening. Yum.

Late late late. I should be in bed. My husband is in California and I cannot get ANYTHING done when he isn't here. Funny, if he is here, he's not doing much for me. (That is NOT a slam, he is helpful, but it really shouldn't matter one way or the other if he's here, as far as me getting the brood out of the door, ya know?)

L was sick today (sore throat, headache) so he stayed home. We took A to school, went to the doctors to make sure it wasn't strep (it wasn't!) and then came home for lunch. I decided that I needed to go through the kids' clothes and winnow a bit. So I brought everyone's clothes down to the dining room, cleared off the table and started sorting. I was listening to a book on tape (Sabriel by Garth Nix - read by Tim Curry - 2nd time through - it is LOVELY) when L came in and said "Mom, it's 3:28." I thought he was joking. I am supposed to pick A up at 3 p.m. School is 15-20 minutes away if I fly under the radar. ACK! Luckily I have a great friend who lets her kids play in the woods near school. She took A and let him play with her boys until I got there.

Books read: Sharon Shinn's Archangel (LOVED it...) and Wrapt in Crystal (Also good...) and I'm in the middle of Jevoh's Angel . Yup, it's pretty much been a Sharon Shinn bender. I have 3 more novels by her waiting in the wings. I've been paging through Cover and Bake a Cook's Illustrated casserole book and L and I watched Nanny McPhee yesterday - I liked it! L stole a book off of my TBR (to be read) pile - East by Edith Pattou. He is currently reading Sea of Trolls by Nancy Farmer as well.

2006-10-12T18:57:00.000-07:00

Monday was Canadian Thanksgiving day. I bought a turkey breast to celebrate. (Some of my favorite people are Canadian - Hi Sara!) It was frozen, so I thought I had put it in the downstairs refrigerator. Wednesday I found it on top of said appliance. Good news - the cat hadn't found it. Bad news - we couldn't have it for dinner. I think sometimes I might have too much on my plate.

This has been a week of extremes. It snowed today. The snow is sticking - covering the lawn, the leaves, the house. My son A was upset because I wouldn't get out the sleds. (Mean momma - I told him it had to snow 3 inches before I got the sleds out.) Monday it was beautiful, in the upper 60s. Sun shining. Who knew we'd get snow? Really, truly snow. It's OCTOBER. Last year on Halloween we had a neighborhood cookout at 10 p.m. - it was too warm for A to wear his Tigger costume.

My emotions have been extreme too. I was ebullient on Monday - excited about starting to gather information for the middle school, starting the online class (on Montessori Leadership), I had the laundry under control, menus planned, the first floor was almost clean. Today, laundry is NOT under control, we had fast food twice this week, I am depressed about how much work it will take to create a middle school, I haven't done any homework for my class. What's up with all that?

My son L is one of four boys in his class. Next year two of the boys will be going to other schools, and the third boy probably will be gone as well. So L will be the only 4th grade boy. I asked him if he wanted to go to the local school instead but he said no, he'd rather be in Montessori. The 3rd boy's mom said she was worried about the small class size, she felt that her son needed a larger group. So here I am again, wondering why that doesn't concern me. Am I missing an important Parenting gene?

And then, after posing the above dilemma to my husband, I have more questions. When will be the best time to move him? Can I have him in only one year of the three year cycle? Montessori works in 3 year cycles, so if I can't commit to the entire three years, I shouldn't really put him in one. I guess I'll have to go visit the local school and see what the options are. He won't be happy about it (my son, my husband will be happy). Switching L would be the best thing because then we can afford to put M in Montessori. I have HUGE guilt issues just for thinking about switching him. But then, I REALLY want M to go to Montessori school. It is just tough with the first kid, I guess, cuz he's got to do everything first.

OK, one more thing about that missing Parenting Gene. This week I told M to get dressed several times and she wouldn't. I finally said "fine, you'll go to school in what you're wearing." We were just going to pick up the boys. M looked at me and said "Yipee!" (She was just wearing a diaper.) So, I put her in the carseat, gave her a blanket and we left. (I did have clothes for her in the car.) When we got to school another mother said "is she naked?" and I told the story. The other mother was horrified - well, at least her expression was.

Books read over the past week: Sharon Shinn's Heart of Gold - yummy science fiction with a bit of race relations. I loved it. Meg Cabot's Size 12 is Not Fat. Also good, in a different way. Think Bridget Jones.

2006-09-27T20:59:00.000-07:00

I had a wonderful time tonight. It was VIP night at the kids' taekwondo gym. Both boys took me! (My husband already takes classes there.) So, I ended up going to two classes. A asked me where my uniform was - and he asked if I would go to EVERY class with him.

It was fun for other reasons too - being able to be the student and have my kids be the teachers; spending time with them individually; actually exercising. I usually have M with me, so they don't get much of my undivided attention.

Life has been fun for the past few days. I've been working on the middle school plan, been joking with my husband, cleaning the house a bit. M and my friend Anne and I went to a thrift shop the other day and found some 100% wool sweaters - I'm going to felt them and make some bags. I've also started a scarf. I'm looking forward to the trunk show. I don't know if I'll have enough really, to sell, but we'll see.

I'm reading a Sharon Shinn book right now... The Safe-Keeper. It's good, really good. My son is into Charlie Bone series. He's cannot WAIT until the next Garth Nix book comes out...

2006-09-18T17:43:00.000-07:00

Some days I lose perspective.

Parenting is so hard, so continuous. Sometimes it is so NOT ME. I have a bad (yes Dad, a bad) attitude today. I guess its a bunch of stuff - I dislike my new haircut immensely. It'll grow, (soon I hope) and it's really not bad, it's just not me. None of my clothes fit. I'm feeling taken-for-granted by my children and husband. I am tired of whiny, crying, tired kids. I want to be working toward the school: doing something, not waiting. This is what they call Out-of-Sorts.

Today A chose to yell at me after everything I said to him. "Time to go home" was met with screams, "here is your water", "no, we're not going to the library" and "time for taekwondo", too. We went to taekwondo and he wouldn't go in. He sat outside and yelled. I was so embarrassed. I took him home and just lost it. My husband was great with A and talked to him about responsibility and promises and respect. I just couldn't get any words out. I was just worn to a raveling. I don't understand this behavior - I put him to bed at 7:45 tonight, hopefully that helps.

We had fun this weekend - went to a work party for C's work. (I'm in house-lust again... I had just started to like my house and then we go to this beautiful place with a mud room, and a HUGE kitchen, and lots of empty carpeting...) On Sunday we flew kites. My mom gave the kids a pirate ship kite. It only flies when there is a lot of wind. The wind was perfect! C tied the kite to one of the soccer goals and it flew on its own. Even M could fly a kite. We brought Buck to the field with us. He is such a dopey golden retriever. He ran and ran and then laid down in a puddle. A stinky, muddy puddle.

I just finished reading Lois McMaster Bujold's book The Curse of Chalion. So good. I love books that let me fall into them in the first page or two. This one was (like all of Bujold's) tremendous - lots of throne-room intrigue and planning, a little bit of magic, a little romance.

Now I'm reading a thriller-mystery called Fatal Tide by Iris Johansen. It's not horrible. (She's a NY Times Bestselling Author.) It's a little unbelievable, a little choppy. None of the magical language that is in the Bujold's. I want to read some of my other library books... We'll see - it's so difficult to find time to read - there's so much to do.

Maybe that's part of my problem today too - housework is so continuous. Parenting is continuous. Laundry is so continuous. I know, changing my perspective would help. I can finish the dishes tonight. Never mind that there is always another cup hiding behind the coffee maker, or in the living room. I can clean up the living room tonight. But I probably won't. I'll probably just sit here, cycling through Readerville or chatting with friends on Zoetrope or Googling random things or checking out other people's blogs.

2006-09-07T18:59:00.000-07:00

Where did my patience go?

There was a time in my life when I had unlimited reserves of patience. I could re-direct until the cows came home. I could look at a screaming child and find some element of empathy, some softening of my heart. I could take deep breaths and let go of all thoughts that the tantrums were personal. This is not that time.

It would be so useful to me to have a Pause button. Forget those Easy buttons from the commercials - I just need a few minutes to compose myself; to calm my brain; to sort out all the information that is hurled at me from all quarters.

I decided tonight that I don't want to yell as much. I want to be more forgiving/understanding/flexible, but not a push over. (is that one word?)

Yesterday M's finger got pinched in a door. We spent the morning in the Emergency Room. She got 4 stitches in her pinky - what a trooper. She is a smiley kid by nature and by the time I decided she needed professional attention, she was smiling at the school secretary. As far as Emergency Room visits go, this was the best experience we could have had. Pleasant, smiling, calm people who explained everything as we went along. I love teaching hospitals.

My son A started full days of school. (he's in kindergarten at Montessori school) He's been awfully tired. Tired = Cranky. I wonder if he can hear me sometimes. He is a dramatic kid, so my evenings are filled with wailing and gnashing of teeth when things don't go the way he planned. I can't negotiate with him at all. He'll be screaming, crying, etc. and then suddenly he'll stop and ask for ice cream. (or to watch TV). That boy could live on TV or computers and apple juice and yogurt. On the bright side, he made a necklace for me today in school, and wrote his name on his paper.

My other son L ignores A often, but he's so good with M. L is in third grade and reading up a storm. He's working on fractions this week. Adding and subtracting. And telling jokes that only 3rd graders could love. Tomorrow he takes his last midterm before testing for 2nd degree black belt. (he's 1st degree now: there are 9 total)

I read a mystery the other day called Swallow the Hook by S.W. Hubbard about a small Adirondack town police officer. It was good - entertaining, not too obvious. I have trouble with the word Adirondack. I always want to pronounce it Aridondack and then it just sounds wrong.

Hmm. Painted part of the bathroom yesterday. I'm liking the Buxton Blue. I asked M and she said "It's too dark". But, she is just 2 1/2.

Still working on my struggle between minimalism and gross consumerism. It is just so easy to buy stuff. Then, when I find things that I want to make on my own, I still have to buy stuff to do it. I'm thinking about making X-mas gifts this year. It rarely gets beyond that tho'. I did make an awesome Monkey backpack for one of my nieces and she didn't even thank me. (I know she got it.) So part of me doesn't want to do anything like that again (it took me a year to knit!). Maybe just jewelry this year. It's easier to make. Of course, having that Pause button would be helpful for this part of my life, too!

2006-08-31T16:48:00.000-07:00

The mission statement is: The purpose of the da Vinci Institute is to prepare students to be well-educated, self-directed young adults who are Reasonable, Respectful and Responsible members of a global society.

We only had 3 rules: be Reasonable, be Responsible, and be Respectful. It is amazing how much of daily life fits under that umbrella. When a student was making poor choices, we would just look at him/her and say: "was that Reasonable?" (or Responsible, or Respectful) and the discussion would continue from there.

I should start including those into my home life. They were extremely effective.

Our dean was a master at putting the responsibility of the behavior back on the kids, and of letting them have space to figure out what they did. He'd call a kid down to the office, say hello, and have them sit in his office for awhile while he went out, made a phone call or two, talked to a teacher, and then, eventually, he'd make his way back. By the time they had been in his office for an hour, most kids were in tears, apologizing through hiccups. The students felt bad about disappointing him. It was amazing.

*****************
We had the best spaghetti tonight. Organic tomato sauce, red peppers, basil and fresh green beans from the MSU Student Organic Farm. (www.msuorganicfarm.com), fresh French bread from the bakery in DeWitt. My tummy is happy.

The kids planted these Three Sister's Mounds at the Farm back in June. You make a mound of dirt and plant corn, beans, and squash seed in the mound. The beans climb up the corn and the squash plants keep the whole thing weeded. They were wildly successful. I think there are at least 10 spaghetti squashes on my 3 kids' plots. We harvested 2 squashes today, and 2 beans from M's bean plant. I'm still working on my camera/computer combo. Soon I'll figure out how to post photos.

L started school this week. I asked him what he did on the first day and he said "I already told dad, and I'm only telling one person a day. You'll have to ask him." He is NOT allowed to be a teenager yet. He is only 8 1/2.

M & A were screaming banshees today. We almost got kicked out of the hardware store. I even had to stop the car on the side of the road and refuse to go any further if they didn't be quiet. The problem with parenting books is that they always tell you what you shouldn't say and those are the only phrases I remember! I like to blame days like today on the moon. I should go see - I think it should be a full moon soon.

We were at the hardware picking up paint and wallpaper removal gunk. Our master bath toilet is broken right now (and not attached) so it is a perfect time to remove the wallpaper in there and paint. Of course, I hadn't decided on a color, and I don't really have time to do it without Little Miss M's help (she's only 2 1/2) or A's help (he's 5 1/2), but I went anyway. I am now the proud owner of a container of Dif, a sprayer, and a gallon of Benjamin Moore's Pottery Barn Buxton Blue . I really like the Phillipsburg Blue, but it is too dark in that closet. (there is a reason they were called Water Closets.)

Well, enough already! I'm off to cruise my favorite sites and then perhaps to watch TV. Maybe if I get control of the remote, I won't have to watch UFC Fight Night again.

2006-08-30T12:52:00.000-07:00

I had a fabulous time last night. I was visiting with co-workers from the charter school where I used to work. (http://www.davinciinstitute.org/district.html) Sometimes I forget how magical that place was. The five of us started that school, we put in 10 hour days teaching, loving, negotiating with the kids and each other. It was an intense, lovely time full of frustrations and victories. I've been thinking of writing about that experience, but I didn't take good notes during the crush of it all. It may not matter. I get such a sense of pride when I see the mission statement. It took HOURS and DAYS of revisiting that to get the wording right when we were creating it.

2006-08-23T11:59:00.000-07:00

So here is my newest idea: When I build my school, or add on to the present school, we should have a place incorporated into the design. (My mom called it "A Room of One's Own") This room would have tables, a sewing machine, a computer or two (or just wireless), a coffee maker, (see previous post). There would be an entrance to the outside that was coded, so that any parent, at any time, could go in and use the equipment.

Now to work on starting the school. Truthfully, I don't know where to begin. Actually, that's not true, I do have an idea... I'm going to talk to a few good friends who were instrumental in starting the school down in Jackson (da Vinci) next week. We'll see. I'm sure there's more I could do...

I read The Celtic Riddle by Lyn Hamilton yesterday. It was a good mystery. C was drinking the last of his Laphroig (scotch) whilst I was reading the end, which was appropriate to the story.

Today I started a book that L chose for me (he's only 8 and giving ME recommendations!) It's a young adult book - so far so good. I've been getting the bathroom ready to paint, and trying out colors on the other bathroom today, and figuring out how to fix my sewing machine table (that I got at the Surplus store for $10 yesterday!).so I haven't had much time to read. Now it's time to put kids down for naps, and then, maybe, I'll paint, or I'll read. Or I'll nap.

Oooh, all the windows are open - it's cool outside, and cloudy. A neighbor is working on his house, so every so often I hear a saw blade going. Such a summer sound to me...

2006-08-19T18:27:00.000-07:00

What do I really want out of life? I'm not sure. I spent an evening with some really wonderful women and I'm second guessing my last plan. I wish I could form some sort of Women's Collective where we could sell our wares. One woman is a genius with design -she made a beautiful dress for her daughter and has plans for more. Another was talking about the lack of clothes made specifically for children with special needs. Another told of her wish to be able to cook with other women. All of us decided that there was a definite lack of community in our home lives. (we all have children who attend the same school, so there is some community there...) but we all live so far away from each other. Wouldn't it be wonderful if there was a place where we could all live, in our own houses, but within our own community?

There is something magical when you are with a group of kindred spirits.

When I'm with the women in this group, I feel like materialism isn't an issue for me anymore. I want to Reduce, Reuse, and Recycle. I want to do yoga and climb trees with my kids and eat tofu. I can breathe and create and see possibilities. Why would I want to sell something that would increase someone's burden of materialistic things? When I want to simplify simplify simplify.

I have had this idea for a few years. There are so many talented women whose children go to our school. Many of these women don't work outside of the home. I've wanted to create a place called "The Office" where these women could go while their kids are in school. We'd rent a building, have a computer or two, a copier, a fax machine, a coffee maker, and lots of chairs. Somehow we'd do something to pay for that stuff and put a little in our pockets. Some would only be there an hour or two a day. Some would be there longer. I still don't know what we'd do... Ah well, another day.

I saw "What the Bleep" - major food for thought. (It seemed like the back story for The Matrix) I've started DogStar by Diana Wynn Jones - I'm a sucker for anything she writes. This too, is excellent, like everything else of hers I've read. I have Triangle by Katharine Weber next up - it's the story of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire in the 1800s. (The fire was on the 9th floor - no fire exits, girls were jumping from the windows).

My mom was here for a few days (ok, the last week) and she went home yesterday. I MISS HER. It was so nice to have her here. M went with me to the airport to drop her off on Saturday. Today M asked "When do we pick up grandma again?"

Saturday I taught a class at the MSU Student Organic Farm (http://www.msuorganicfarm.com/) as part of a Skill Share. We made spool-knit bracelets. (I started the class by having them make their own spool-looms) I had about 6 students: 2 adults and 4 kids. 2 of the kids were a bit young, so they ended up just beading a bracelet.

Ok, time for bed.

2006-08-17T12:24:00.000-07:00

Today I had coffee with a friend of mine who sells Arbonne products. Arbonne is a cosmetics/skin care company that is one of the top Network Marketing companies in the world. It is an interesting company (www.arbonne.com) , and I like the products. My friend wants me to go into business for myself with Arbonne. I'm of two minds about that.

First, I'd love to have a job. Responsibilities outside of the home; a little something different for my brain to chew on; a little time where I am not mom; a little money that I've contributed. (I could go into the whole stay-at-home mom thing, and Yes, I do contribute to our family, just not monetarily. I know what I do at home is important and necessary, but I'd like time to myself, and I'd like it to be productive in some way and money is a very obvious way to prove that time for myself is valuable. hmmm - maybe I should chew on that a bit...)

On the other hand, my main job is to be at home; to care for my children, my husband, my house, our family. I do not want anything to interfere with that. In some ways I think having a job would help me do that part better, because my time would be more limited and I'd be forced to concentrate better. But that is a justification, not a reason. At some point, I'd like my kids to know that it's OK for the mom to have other interests and responsibilities outside of the family unit.

What I really want to do is start a school. (I like this one: http://www.eaglerockschool.org/about_us/index.asp) An alternative middle/high school. Well, a middle/high school that approaches education in a different way: more along the lines of Montessori, where children are responsible for themselves and their choices. Where they could be challenged and have fun and enjoy learning.

(I need to work on my spiel - maybe selling Arbonne could be a training course for me in sales.)

I don't know why I'm even considering it. I have so much to do here (at home) and for school (I'm on the board) .

Here at home I want to paint the walls, (all of them), put in new floors, a new deck, a new driveway, clean, organize, get rid of clutter, sort kids clothes.

For the school board I have to investigate middle school possibilities, look at a different parking lot configuration, figure out what next.

Sometimes I wish there would be an email or phone call from Whomever is in Charge Upstairs that would tell me What To Do. There are times when I really want to be a Kelly-Girl: mindless filing, punch the clock. I know I would get bored eventually, but...

Time for dinner...

What I've Read: Letters to Emily by Camron Wright. Good. Very Tuesdays with Morrie-ish. and Unsolicited by Julie Kaewert (a book-lovers mystery: set in England in a publishing company) I liked it.

2006-08-13T14:25:00.000-07:00

I forgot to write down what I was reading. Perhaps a different entry is fine for that...

I finished the Temeraire book. Darn, there's a fourth. And it's not written yet. I enjoyed the first two tremendously, the third was a bit slow and ponderous towards the end and it did not resolve, which ticks me off sometimes. I want the whole story, dammit!

I also read The Wind Singer by William Nicholson. Of course, it's another trilogy. One of those spin offs of 1984. Perfect society, rebel kids. I love it. Anytime a book promotes individual thinking...

2006-08-12T18:23:00.000-07:00

Today was slated to be an extremely busy day. The boys were going to march in the Mint Festival parade in St. Johns (with the taekwondo school) and M & I were going to watch. Then we had to high-tail it out of there in order to be in Ann Arbor for our 3 p.m. haircuts. But, M & A were whiny-crankypants and C & L decided to go to the parade by themselves. Besides, I needed to clean out the van. How many straw-wrappers can fit in one mini-van? about 10,587, give or take.

M & A & I took the dogs for a walk. Both of them. At the same time. M was in the stroller, A was riding behind, I was pushing the stroller with one hand, and holding both leashes in the other. We have been watching the-dog-whisperer-Ceasar-Millan semi-religiously, so I was bound and determined to force those dogs to mind. It took a few stops, a lot of muscle, but we got around the neighborhood across the street. I'm sure there were some people laughing their asses off behind their draperies. I had sweat dripping off of me by the time we were finished.

There is another parenting book I like: Helping Kids Help Themselves by E. Perry Good. It's based on the Control Theory/Reality Therapy proposed by William Glasser. (http://www.wglasser.com/) They propose that everyone needs love, power, fun, and freedom and all behaviours are done in order to meet the lack of those areas. My son A, for example, is often searching for some love/affection/acceptance or control (power). He is the middle kid, stuck between an intelligent older brother and a cute little sister. He will usually calm down if I address how much I love him first. "A, I love you. I do not love how you are behaving right now." As with most of my parenting books, it works so well if I follow the directions consistently.

I'm working on being consistent. This blog is one way to practice.

(I saved this as a draft, so here's Sunday's addition:)

I'm feeling virtuous today. I had 12 ears of cooked corn-on-the-cob from the other night. I cut it off the cob and put it in the freezer. The kitchen is fairly clean - I am in the midst of re-organizing the kitchen. It feels good. I cleaned up the guest room & bath today and re-organized the storage area down there too. I need to run to the store to stock up on essentials: bread, wine and beer. Oh, and decide what's for dinner. After dinner we'll go pick my mom up from the train. I'm excited. I wish she could stay longer than a week.

Off to see what's in the fridge. Ciao!

2006-08-10T19:00:00.000-07:00

Why does everything have to be difficult? I was making dinner this evening - chopping all my lovely CSA veggies up into tiny bits so the kids wouldn't notice them in spaghetti sauce - and M was interested in getting me to pay attention to her. After re-directing for the umpteenth time, I gave up. Now the kitchen and dining room floor are covered with rock salt. (She was practicing pouring.) I've been re-organizing my cupboards and the rock salt was out, waiting for a home. But hey, dinner didn't burn.

Omigosh - what is the moon doing right now? My kids have been the whiniest whiners. I was practicing the Love & Logic approach: "I'm sorry, I can't hear what you say when you use that voice." Repeat until they change their voice. BUT I CAN HEAR THEM. every whiny word. my back teeth are ground to nubbins. Well, they are finally in their beds now.

I've been trying to figure out what to write in that little box that describes me in 500 words or less. How do I do that when I don't really know who I am? That sounds so trite, so 1960's, but that's where I am right now. I am busy with a lot of things right now - 3 kids, 2 dogs, 1 cat, 1 bird, 1 husband, 1 blog... I'm interested in a lot of things - education, books, knitting, nutrition, Napoleonic maritime strategy, books, taekwondo, cooking, books. Somewhere underneath all this mom-stuff there is Lysne. I don't know where she is, or really, how to define her. General Semantics (http://www.driveyourselfsane.com/) suggests not to define yourself as "a Mom" or "a teacher" because those titles limit who you could be. (Both in your mind and in the minds of others.) Instead say "I teach" or "I write" or "I mother" (which sounds wierd to me - I guess I need practice). I'm running out of verbs. AND I haven't practiced that enough, so that my mind is still stuck on being a Mom. I went to visit my best friend from college a few weeks ago - it was WONDERFUL - but it took me awhile to relax and not feel like I was missing something (like an arm) because I was there all by myself.

OK - well, if you're still here, you waded through all that. Thanks. It's been so long since I've written anything more than permission slips, it'll take me awhile to remember how to organize stuff.

I want to write down what I read too: Today I read a book by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes called Demon in my View. She wrote it when she was 15. It's pretty good for 15. I'm much happier with her other, newer series (The Kiesha'ra Trilogy). Demon is a vampire novel with some interesting bits. I have a few others of hers - I'll report back.

My favorite vampire books are the Sookie Stackhouse mysteries.

I'm also working on the third of the Temeraire trilogy by Naomi Novik. Very good. Sort of like Anne McCaffery meets Patrick O'Brien. Dragons, maritime stuff, a little romance.

Adios!

2006-08-09T20:01:00.000-07:00

Late night Haiku

My computer whines
competing with crickets and
Leno: Time for bed.
+++++++++++++

empty mind echoes
sleep drags at my arms and legs
child crying - nite!

2006-08-08T19:48:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Lysneland... My friends are blogging and I'm susceptible to peer pressure, so here I am. I really just wanted to leave comments on their blogs and I was forced! to join. Hopefully I'll be able to carve out some time to work on this. Even though I succumbed to my peers, I did want to do this. It will be good for me. Like castor oil.