Two Days After

December 27--two days out from the big day. The little tree looks lonely now with all the gifts opened, played with, and otherwise dispersed among the toybox. I looked up at the tree this morning and spotted an ornament that Leigh has had since she made it in first grade. It's a sled made from popsicle sticks painted red with the words Merry Christmas 1981 and her name in silver paint. I am sure she had more than a little help from her first grade teacher. The sled has survived many Christmases, many moves, many trees and still it serves to remind us of those wonderful memories from long ago.

Now it's time for football, football and more football. Thank goodness we get a break tonight with a hockey game. Sports rule in this house and after 11 and a half years of marriage I have learned to at least like most of them. Hockey has always been a favorite of mine since my dad and I would watch as I was growing up. The Stars are looking better--let's hope they can keep up the momentum that might carry them into a playoff.

I am looking forward to another week of rest and relaxation! This has been the best winter break we've had in a long time. It is almost impossible to believe that almost half a school year has passed and we're about to start second semester. The library has been growing quickly thanks to an outstanding budget from the district and a lot of time spent meeting with vendors and purchasing a variety of fiction and nonfiction books. I was reminded this morning, when reading my friend Kristen's blog, about a special book that I had purchased for Freeman a few years back. I immediately went to one of my vendor's websites to order it for La Villita. My prekindergarten classes will love The Big Red Tub.

Christmas 2008

Merry Christmas

We are 38 minutes into Christmas 2008. There are a zillion presents waiting under the tiny tree for Dylan to come home tomorrow. I can't wait to see the expression on his face.

Happy Holidays!

Just a few more days before Christmas and a few more hours before Hanukkah arrives. The holiday spirit hasn't really hit me yet. I think part of it is that my grandson is gone until late Christmas day, so no one to make cookies with or for, no one to help me drag out my snowmen and scatter them about, no one to watch in wonder as we light the Hanukkah menorahs. I haven't even done that much shopping yet--although I have to say the economy is more responsible for that than Dylan not being here. His presents have been hidden away for weeks.

I haven't sent out Christmas cards for years. I never sent them locally, but to friends I have made while moving across the country. I always liked to include a letter in each, but in this day of instant Internet access, email, blogging, wikis and the like there just doesn't seem to be a need. Usually you get a birds eye view of my life right here at A Piece of My Mind. I have appreciated the Christmas cards I have received, especially those with pictures of new babies and grandbabies.

I keep hoping the weather will stay cold for Thursday. I've long since given up the notion that it will ever snow for Christmas in Dallas. The most snow we've ever gotten since I've been here was in late February and looked more like a dusting of powdered sugar on cookies. Right now they are predicting a temperature of 64 for Thursday--which I am sure some of my northern friends would love--but it just always seems more like Christmas when it is cold and snowy. As a child, I used to love to walk outside in my boots when it was really cold so I could hear the snow crunch beneath my feet. I can remember many trips to get our Christmas tree when Mr. Wagner and my dad had to bounce the tree a few times to shake the snow from it's limbs before putting it in the car. That was, of course, when I became old enough to understand that Santa Claus resided in my heart rather than the North Pole. Before that time, the tree magically appeared on Christmas morning, along with the story about how Santa brought it, decorated it, and carefully placed the holiday gifts around it. The magic that was a child's Christmas kept me from realizing the impossible task that would have been for Santa. It truly was wondrous to pad down the stairs in my new slippers and jammies--which I am sure my mother bought solely for photo opportunities--to a first view of the tree and and the presents.

I've been so fortunate to share most of Dylan's Christmas mornings. It is amazing to watch through the eyes of a child and see once again the magic of the season. Since marrying Eric, I've also had the wonderful opportunity to celebrate Hanukkah with him and his family. Everyone usually gathers at least one night at our house to light the candles and share latkes, a traditional Hanukkah potato pancake. Funny thing is, I've always loved potato pancakes and my dad and I had been making them since I was a young girl. Thinking of those times and cookie baking times with my mother is making the holiday seem more real as I type away. Both my parents have been gone for such a long time, my dad for 23 years, my mom for almost 34 years but the memories of holiday traditions will always be in my heart. It is those type of memories I hope to leave with Dylan as well.

My wish for all my friends and family is a

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah & Prosperous and Safe New Year

The Season's Over

My team lost yesterday. What a roller coaster of emotion it was! I really thought that Bloom could win the game and in fact they went into the half leading the game. Unfortunately a few turnovers and a very bad call by the officials put the final score at 27-24 in favor of California University of PA. So now California goes on to the semi-finals to play Minnesota Duluth. I believe they will have a home game in western PA which is good because the weather in Duluth this time of year is mighty cold. Do I think Cal can beat Duluth--without a doubt. They certainly have the personnel and the will to get the job done. Having been to the semi's last year they know what it takes. It's about time another PSAC representative made it to Florence.

I am already looking forward to next season. It will be the last season for Danny Latorre as quarterback and with the two red shirt freshman running backs maturing, it should be a great season. I just wish I were a little closer to the action. Being 1500 miles away makes it difficult to make the game each Saturday and division II football doesn't generally make it to the networks. I've really enjoyed the last two weeks as the championship rounds have at least made it to a web cast sponsored by the NCAA and CBS. Visuals certainly make the game more interesting and exciting.

I'd like to offer my congratulations to the Huskies on another outstanding season. Danny Hale and his staff do a great job every year with their recruits. They are in contention almost every year with a very limited budget. I might also add that BU offers a fine academic education as well. From its beautiful small town location to the friendly people, from academics to sports teams it is truly one of the best that Division II has to offer.

Happy THANKSgiving

Wow, a month since my last post. I wish that were an indication of something really exciting that happened, but alas, I've just been busy with the business of life and work and family.

We're about to celebrate Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday. Since I was very little, this holiday has been the one most anticipated, even beyond a child's Christmas. Being an only child and having parents who did not believe in overindulgence, Christmas was mostly a religious holiday for me. And that's good, for those humble religious experiences helped mold me into a productive, moral, ethical adult.

Thanksgiving, though, was a different holiday, when everyone gathered at one family house or another to celebrate another year of family, friends, gifts of good health and good fortune. Dinner was a week long affair, with my mother preparing pies and cookies, homemade cranberries and rolls, turkey, sometimes ham, and tons of vegetables--yum--my favorite. The good silver came out in the weeks before and was lovingly polished, washed and restored to its shiny splendor. My grandma Jones' Noritake, purchased before WW II adorned my mother's mahogany table. Everything was special about this day, but the food and table were certainly the centerpiece. It didn't hurt that I loved to eat!

And who would join us? In the early days, it was both sets of grandparents, my favorite great Aunt Lizzie and her husband, Uncle George and my mother's sister Catherine and her family. As I grew older, the scene changed slightly and my father's two brothers, David and Harold and their families would also join us. Our small house would burst at the seams with people in every room, preparing, cooking, serving, cleaning up, discussing the good ol' days the whole time. I loved the crowd, the talk of things past, the attention--it was wonderful. I especially liked hearing the story of the first Thanksgiving, which my mother told, of Pilgrims who had struggled over the first winter and who had managed to plant and harvest and decided to have a celebration to give thanks for their good fortune. Who would know that 40 years later I would discover that I descended from one of those very Pilgrims of whom my mother often spoke. I still lament that neither she nor my dad were alive when I made my discovery. It would thrill them both to know that I was from the same hearty stock that first set foot in the new world in 1620.

Today I often share stories of that first Thanksgiving, called a harvest feast, with my students. There are so many good books that tell the story, but my favorite is still The First Thanksgiving by Alice Dalgleish. Written in 1954, it's a story I've heard many times, but it took on new meaning when I discovered that Stephen Hopkins, a central character in Dalgleish's book was my 11th great grandfather and that his eldest daughter, Constance, was my 10th great grandmother. In the last five years, I've read a lot of books about the first Thanksgiving and the Pilgrim journey, but two of the best are Nathaniel Philbrick's Mayflower and a relatively new book by Mayflower researcher, Caleb Johnson called Here Shall I Die Ashore Stephen Hopkins: Bermuda Castaway, Jamestown Survivor, and Mayflower Pilgrim.

Johnson, who is a Mayflower descendant, although not from Hopkins, has done an outstanding job presenting the life of this man named Stephen Hopkins. It was Johnson who first published information refuting previous beliefs that Stephen Hopkins was from Wortley, Gloucester County rather than from Hursley, Hampshire County. Stephen Hopkins was only forty when he landed at Plymouth in 1620, but already he had been shipwrecked in the Bermuda Triangle, mutinied, was sentenced to death, convinced the powers that be to set him free, spent time in the Jamestown colony, was written into Shakespeare's The Tempest (written about the shipwreck of the Sea Venture) as Stephano, and then took his entire family, wife Elizabeth, daughters Constance and Demaris and son Giles on board the Mayflower for the 66 day voyage to the new world, during which time his son, Oceanus was born. Once there Hopkins is a stalwart survivor. In fact, the Hopkins family was the only in tact family to survive the first winter. He was a strong influence in the formation of the new colony. Signer of the Mayflower Compact, Hopkins with his friend, Myles Standish, led exploratory parties and became an integral part of the negotiations with Massasoit. He also housed Squanto in his home. When he died at the age of 63 he left an extensive last will and testament in which not only his children, but also his cows are named.
Wow! I can hardly believe that this man, who lead this extraordinary life was my ancestor. One of the things I try to instill in my students is the importance of talking to their parents and grandparents while they have the opportunity; to ask questions of them, their childhoods, their loves and passions. It was those very questions that lit a fire in me and caused me to investigate my own ancestry. Each period that I research becomes so much more real to me because I know an ancestor lived through it and helped to make it happen. Gives me pause to wonder if someday, some granddaughter or grandson, several generations removed will be asking questions about me.

Of Life and Death

Friday afternoon I attended a memorial service for the mother of a dear friend. Lest those of you who know me think this was the passing of a woman in her seventies or eighties, let me enlighten you. This was the death of a woman my age, whose daughter befriended me 14 years ago as I experienced some of the darkest days of my life. Amy’s friendship got me through a difficult divorce. She bolstered my damaged self image and supported my quest to reposition my talents and move forward. She brightened my days, over and over again, for months on end. Meeting her mom on many occasions, it was evident where Amy got her fantastic smile, her witty charm and her everlasting joyous outlook—from her mother, Alice.

As Alice’s life briefly unfolded through letters from her sisters and message from the minister in front of a packed room, it was obvious the number of lives this woman had touched. Family, students, former students, teachers and administration sat shoulder to shoulder, with tissues in hand, as one word or sentence took each of us back to a moment shared with Alice. I remembered the first time I met Alice when Amy brought me home late one weekend night. Alice was up and reading, something I learned very quickly was a passion. I remembered the first Read Aloud I had at Sheffield Primary—when Alice graciously gave up her planning time to come and read to second grade. I remembered the first time I saw Alice after I knew she was ill, at a school district function last October. She looked wonderful, her signature smile radiant as ever and I couldn’t help but think that she had beaten this horrible disease and was on her way to recovery. I saw her again in July when I was working summer school at Newman Smith. She seemed fatigued, but her smile was luminous. Our anticipated conversation was never realized as she was called to the phone and I returned to the library.

Mostly I remembered getting the news of her passing. I hadn’t heard my phone ring in the middle of a crowded IKEA. As I listened to the phone message, the crowds became invisible and I caught my breath in one giant gasp, followed by tears of sadness—grief for my beautiful friend Amy, and her brother, who had lost both of their parents in such a short time. Sorrow because Alice would never see her two beautiful grandchildren grow up. Almost simultaneously, melancholy swept over me as I realized how finite our time here is.

I suppose the message I am most imparting is the briefness of our earthly sojourn. Making the most of every moment is essential. Giggling with my six year old grandson, sharing a book with my kindergarten students, instructing my older students about the power of the written word, those in books, but more importantly their own—through all of these, I give away a small piece of myself that will be my legacy.

“The question is not whether we will die, but how we will live.”
Joan Borysenko, Ph.D.

Please Watch this Video

A few days ago I posted some facts about John McCain that I thought were important for people to know before they went to the polls. Apparently, Barack's campaign advisors have determined it is important as well. Some will say this is a negative attack. I say it is an informative video. It isn't so much that McCain attempted to cover up fraud, which he did, but that he hasn't changed his polices against deregulation since then.
Folks, you can not allow the kindergarten kids to guard the cookie jar while the teacher is out of the room. The same rule applies to officers of large financial institutions. Faulty accounting caused the savings and loan crisis and bad judgment by five senators attempted to cover it up and allow it to continue.

This video is narrated by a federal regulator who was there during the whole debacle. He makes sound economic sense.
http://my.barackobama.com/keatingvideo

Another Huskies Win

Well, October 4th has come and gone and my alma mater has won another D2 football game. They are more than halfway through the season with 6 wins and no losses. Next week will be a real test as they meet long time rival East Stroudsburg University Warriors. I have no doubt they can win the game. In my opinion, the Warriors, a rather young team, will not be able to hang with the Huskies through the whole game. This is also a home game for the Huskies after two away. I imagine they are happy to back home on their new turf. I just wish I could be there to see the game. Instead, I'll be at my computer listening to WHLM on the Internet, applauding and yelling as though I were sitting in the stands.

GO HUSKIES BEAT THE WARRIORS!!

Thirty Days and Counting

In about thirty days, the voters of this country go to the polls to elect the 44th president of the United States. The decision will affect all of us for at least four years and possibly longer. I say longer, because our current president's bad fiscal judgment and horrendous foreign policy has put this nation in a very precarious position that will effect us for years to come. As I get closer to retirement, I wonder if I'll be able to afford it. My question for all of those voters is: Are you still thinking seriously about voting for John McCain, that rebel maverick, and his pit bull, hockey mom, VP candidate, Sarah Palin? To listen to John and Sarah in their respective "debates" you would think both belong to some mythical third party because they sure weren't acknowledging that they had anything to do with the Republicans who held office for the last eight years.

If you haven't made your decision yet, think about these facts.
First, John McCain, as a prisoner of war, gave aid and comfort to the enemy in the way of giving military information and participating in radio broadcasts for the communists and meeting with communist delegations that including the Cubans. These matters never reached a military court even though other soldiers in similar situations were court martialed. In 1989, US Senator, John McCain, was one of five US Senators accused of corruption as part of the Savings and Loan scandal. Known as the Keating Five, only 2 of the five managed to save their political careers. One was McCain, the other John Glenn. Miraculous what name recognition will do for you. Even today, John McCain calls himself a maverick despite the fact that he has supported George W. Bush on almost every political decision in the last eight years. Yes to tax cuts for the highest economic brackets, yes to war in Iraq based on false intelligence. He voted against bills supporting women's rights in the area of reproduction, including the Teen Pregnancy Education Act. In several other matters, Mr. McCain chose the route of No Vote, perhaps so he could later say he did not support the failed policies of the Bush administration.
John McCain is also the man who didn't know how many houses he owned. Okay, we all know his wife is the one with the money, but he has been married to her since 1980--don't tell me he doesn't know how many properties she or they own. And if he truly doesn't know--are you sure you want him running the largest democratic nation in the world?
To all in public education, John McCain supports vouchers as well as charter schools and merit pay for teachers. All three ideas weaken public education in my humble opinion. Frankly, I am tired of Washington politicians telling the nation how bad our public education system is. There is NO other nation in the world who educates the masses as we do.

And now for Sarah...is there anyone in Alaska prepared to vote for her--or only those who want her out of the state? As Mayor of Wasilla, Palin, who ran on fiscal conservatism, spent an unapproved $50,000 to remodel her office. She attempted to fire the city librarian because she refused to comply with Ms. Palin's censorship of certain books (this librarian blogger opposes censorship). As governor, Palin supported the "bridge to nowhere" appropriation until it became a national joke and even then, kept the money in Alaska. So much for being fiscally responsible and cutting down on pork barrel expenditures. Ms. Palin attended five colleges and universities in six years before receiving a degree in journalism. Apparently in all that time she did not work on a school paper, or do anything else journalism related. And apparently that journalism education did not help her in her interview with Katie Couric where she came off as naive, uneducated, small minded conservative--who later reported on FOX that she didn't like Katie's questions--that she simply wanted to inform the public, in an unfiltered way, of what would happen if Barack Obama became president. The public would like to hear what Palin and McCain offer, but they never talk about that--mostly because they have nothing to say.
Frankly, Sarah Palin, master of folksy phrases like 'you betcha,''straight up,' and 'darn,' scares the 'heck' out of me. She is totally unqualified to be vp let alone slipping into the presidency should something happen to McCain.

Join me at the polls on November 4. Let's make sure that we really do bring CHANGE to Washington politics and our national government.

Death of an Idol

Paul Newman died yesterday. I cried today when I heard the news. He was a hero of mine since my adolescent eyes first meet his baby blues in The Silver Chalice. I must have been 13 or 14 years old and the 1955 movie was on our brand new color television. It was Paul's first big screen performance and the movie was not notable, but I knew the very moment I saw him on screen that I was in the presence of someone who would be long remembered. I continued to follow his career, watching older movies on television and the newer ones in the theater. I aged with Paul, even though he is almost three decades older than me. And how he did age, naturally, beautifully becoming such a distinguished older man. The last two roles that I admired him in were his performance as Kevin Costner's father in Message in a Bottle and the role of John Rooney in Road to Perdition. In between that first movie and his last, there were so many memorable moments. Here are just a few of mine, well worth watching, again and again.
The Color of Money (1986) .... Fast Eddie Felson
Absence of Malice (1981) .... Michael Colin Gallagher
Slap Shot (1977) .... Reggie 'Reg' Dunlop
The Sting (1973) .... Henry Gondorff
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969) .... Butch Cassidy
Cool Hand Luke (1967) .... Luke
Hombre (1967) .... John Russell
Harper (1966) .... Lew Harper
Hud (1963) .... Hud Bannon
The Hustler (1961) .... Eddie Felson
Exodus (1960) .... Ari Ben Canaan
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958) .... Brick Pollitt
The Long, Hot Summer (1958) .... Ben Quick

My admiration for Paul extended far beyond his ability as an actor. His long marriage to Joanne Woodward survived in part because they removed themselves from the superfluous environment of Hollywood. They raised their children in Connecticut and managed to stay out of the public eye. Paul also pursued other interests, outside of acting. His long time association with racing was something that I am sure gave him great satisfaction. He was a competent driver. And then there's his establishment of Newman's Own brand giving us all quality healthy foods with profits filtering to nonprofit organizations. I hope this business will be continued by his daughter Nell.

I am going to miss Paul Newman, with his bedroom blue eyes and grin that was wider than the big screen. His on and off screen legacy will be with us for a long time to come.

When I was a BU Coed

Sometimes it is very hard to think about how far removed I am from my coed days at Bloomsburg University, then Bloomsburg State College. I spent some very happy years at BU, as a class leader, sorority member, and RA. I made some lasting friendships--people with whom I am still friends and with whom I enjoy spending time. But can it be that many years ago? I don't really feel that much older. I can still remember football games, wrestling meets, basketball games, even swim meets--only because a good friend was on the team. :-)

I remember sorority and fraternity functions, some a little wilder than others. Concerts by some of the hot groups, which will definitely give away the time frame; The Association, BS&T, The Loving Spoonful. I remember graduation, which occurred just a few days after my 21st birthday, early on a Sunday afternoon. My best friend and I managed to down a couple bloody marys before hand. I remember how proud my mom and dad were that their only child was a college graduate.

A long time ago, a wise and dear friend told me to treasure the special moments for much later times when I was rocking away my hours. She was right. Those very special moments will be with me for a long time.

Huskies Win Again

Yesterday's game was a bit of a nailbitter. The Huskies have always been a second half team, but I was really worried yesterday that Kutztown would pull out a win. But thanks to Coach Danny Hale's patient ways, the Huskies won 31-21. GO HUSKIES!
With four wins under the belt, there are still seven more games to go, including West Chester and East Stroudsburg.

Authors We Love Have Blogs

I love Judy Blume--okay, maybe that's a little over the top. I don't even know Judy Blume, but I do know her writing and have been recommending it to kids since I started teaching in the early 1970's. I think my daughter Leigh read every book ever written by Judy Blume. She loved them too. It's 2008, almost 40 years since Judy wrote her first book, Are You there God? It's Me Margaret, but my elementary students still clamor to check out Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, Fudge, or Superfudge. Her writing and understanding, particularly of adolescent girls is timeless and marvelous.

I discovered today, while helping a student research Judy Blume for an authors' book, that Judy has a blog--imagine that, just like me she writes in her blog as often as she can. Somehow, I feel closer to her now, and closer to my own goal of publishing someday. In her most recent blog, she discusses being a hockey mom , like a certain other newly famous female. Judy says some of the same things in her blog that I said just a few days ago in mine, only she says them infinitely better than I did. Don't believe me, read for yourself. Read her September 7 entry, Hockey Mom.

Huskies Win

My alma mater goes 3-0 with a shutout against Mercyhurst.

Bloomy, Blizzard and I are so excited. Looking forward to the Kutztown game next week.

Power of Prayer

While waiting for the remnants of Ike to hit Dallas and waiting for my beloved Huskies to be on Internet radio, I thought I'd post to my blog. Here in Texas, many are cautiously watching as Ike's damage is revealed and of course, we are all praying for safety and limited damage for friends and family.
I'd like to ask each of you to extend your prayer to a friend of mine from high school. Patti suffers from normal pressure hydrocephalus, a condition that almost always requires the insertion of a shunt to drain off excess brain fluid. Patti is in the process now of finding a surgeon and course of treatment. I hope all of you will remember her in your prayers. I believe strongly in the power of collective prayer. I am praying for the successful treatment of this condition so that Patti may resume her life as a mother, grandmother, business woman and friend.

College Yearbook

Okay, one step further with the yearbook pictures. How is this one from my sorority photo. I was a junior at BU.

Yearbook Pictures

About a week ago, my friend Meredith put a picture up from a web site called yearbookyourself.com. I went to check it out and realized, I don't have to pretend, I can just drag out my yearbook and scan the photo, so I did. It's a little grainy but here it is. Can you guess the era?

Rants and Raves

A few days ago, my husband read a post to me from Craig's List. I went into the list to reread the post a few hours later and actually sited it here on my blog. I spent a good portion of Sunday afternoon looking over the Rants and Raves section of Craig's List. Wow! I've always known that there are bigoted people in our world, but until I read some of these posts, I had no idea how bigoted or to what level the hatred reaches. From the use of gutter language to threats of death and beyond, I was truly shocked.
Being a librarian, I've always had strong feelings against censorship, but I have to wonder how sane it is to have a place where people can publicly vent their anger and vile ideas. I have no problem with people having different political viewpoints, but when they are based on lies, inuendo and unproven allegations, coupled with biased hatred, you really have a breeding ground for a troubled society. I love the Internet for its accessibility, instant access to information and informality. But I am troubled by the cloak of anonymity that allows enraged people to spew hate-laden words cascading on all of us like candy falling from a broken pinata. I don't want this to be the world in which my grandson grows up.

More politics

Eric found something interesting on Craig's List today. I am linking it here. I liked it because it was written by a republican about the republican ticket. His words were thoughtfully chosen and, in my opinion, right on target. Let's hope others agree.
http://dallas.craigslist.org/dal/rnr/831681356.html

A Great Day

The day started with getting to Dylan's soccer game by 9 AM. It was the first of three games he played today. A little much in the Texas heat, but then I guess I am not six. I have to get used to typing six since his birthday was just yesterday.

After Dylan's first game, Eric and I headed for home so I could listen to Bloomsburg, my alma mater on the Internet. Today they played California of PA, the number 5 ranked team in Division II football. What a game. We were ahead at the end of the first half 14-0. California came on strong in the third quarter but they just didn't have enough to pull it out. My Huskies won, 24-17. We're beginning the season with a great 2-0 record. I am already looking forward to playoffs. :-)

Dylan's Birthday

Today I spent the whole day in the world of a five year old who was high on the excitement of celebrating his sixth birthday. Oh, my! I conveniently forgot what little boys are made of. I don't think he sat still more than the time he was in my car going to school and then back in my car while driving to dinner tonight. He was a wild child, giggling, laughing, jumping up and down. His energy level made me tired just watching.

Thank goodness he was fairly settled for school. Settled at least until 2:05 today when the fire alarm went off and we all had to trek outside and wait for 30 minutes while the determination of what caused the alarm to go off was made. It had something to do with the outside sprinklers, but goodness, by the time we all got back inside there were more than a few excited children.

As soon as everyone got back inside and settled, Dylan handed his kindergarten class cupcakes for his birthday. Thank goodness there was enough time for that, because failure to eat those cupcakes might have caused a major meltdown for birthday boy.

Pictures will have to wait until tomorrow. As soon as dinner was over, Dylan, Leigh, Shane and Cole went off to watch Shane play hockey in Frisco. Tomorrow Dylan has 3 soccer games. I hope he stays awake!!

Politcal campaigns

I never cease to be amazed at what comes out during political campaigns. One candidate attacks another, but when he is challenged on a similar area, it is suddenly a different story. This is a quote from the McCain campain today.
“The McCain campaign will have no further comment about our long and thorough process,” Schmidt said, lashing out at “the old boys’ network” that he says runs media organizations.

I am laughing at the idea that the news media is an old boy network. Here all this time I thought old boy network described the Grand Old Party. Today McCain insisted the media lay off the children. But that didn't stop him from a wonderful photo op with Bristol Palin and her boyfriend. The whole thing is a little bit of an enigma. The Palin's oppose sex education or the distibution of condoms to teenagers. Yet here they are faced with an unexpected grandchild, a young daughter forced to grow up faster than is needed and the desire for all of us to look the other way, not question, not comment, just believe that Sarah Palin is the best possible person for the second highest position in US government. Perhaps this politcal mother should have taught her daughter about condoms. Why compound the "mistake" of premarital sex with bringing a child into the world when you are barely more than a child yourself? Is choosing your life partner in such a situation a good thing?

Three Days In

Wow, it's Wednesday night and definitely bed time. I've forgotten the amount of energy it takes to work with little ones on a daily basis. My library is looking better, but still not complete yet. I have a couple of book orders that haven't arrived yet and there are a few other things that still have to be finished in the library, but what a place it is. I can't say it enough. The windows are phenomenal. There is something almost magical about them, the outside is inside. The grass on my side of the building is still germinating, but I look forward to my rows of trees and green, fragrant grass.

On another note, I was swept up in the enthusiasm of the Democratic Convention tonight. Two great speeches were given, one by President Bill Clinton, the other by VP nominee, Joe Biden, who was born in my hometown.

First Day of School

"Tomorrow is another day," as Scarlet O'Hara once told us. It's also another start of school for me. There have been lots of first days of school in my life, first as a student, then as a teacher, then as a mom with two children, then as a librarian and tomorrow will be the first day of kindergarten for my grandson, Dylan. I am excited that he and I will be going to school together every day.

I am thrilled to be starting another year as a librarian, my 13th, in a brand new building. We still have books coming in, and computers that are not 100% operational, but things are moving along smoothly and I look forward to having kids in the library before too long.

New and beautiful

I returned to work officially on August 13. It wasn't exactly what I expected as contractors were still working on electric for the computers in the library, so there was not much I could do in there. I did get help moving some shelves so the layout is looking the way I want it too. The room is breathtaking. The library is not particularly large, but feels expansive because of the high ceilings and wonderful windows. For the first three days, the room was cluttered with my boxes and the tools and materials of several electrical contractors. I am happy to say that they finally finished up on Friday afternoon. The floors will be cleaned and waxed this weekend so it will be ready for the children in just a week.

Eric came up on Friday and moved a lot of my boxes and helped me empty them. I have very little storage space so I'll have to be judicious about what I keep and what I don't keep. I will definitely need a place to store my seasonal decorations.

The next week will be busy as I hustle to get books and materials in their place. I can't wait to see the kids and their reaction to this beautiful new building.

My books arrived on Friday and the boxes were placed inside the library so the floors in the hallway would be clear. Can't wait to open them and start shelving the new books.

Russia vs Georgia

I am curious as to how our president can remain in China at games which should have been held elsewhere, while Russia seeks to annihilate a former nation of the soviet block because of their interest in relationships with western nations. No question that the timing on Russia's part was impeccable. The start of the Olympics have captured the eyes of the world, with many world leaders in attendance.
The last six months of W's presidency--which so far have been less than stellar--pretty much like the other 7 and a half years and an American economy at the brink of recession brought on by an elongated and unecessary war in Iraq have our nation distracted. Can we not see that we must do something here. Georgia is a nation that seeks to be democratic and aligned with other democratic nations, but it seems unlikely that we will do much as a nation to help the situation. We were quick to jump into Iraq, a country that seems to have little desire to be a democratic nation, prodded by false allegations and inexcusable mistakes by the people who are supposed to be good at gathering intelligence.

It is time for change in Washington. I only hope it doesn't come too late.

Early Rising

It's about 7 AM on a Sunday morning. I've been up for about an hour. Nothing really too new for me, I've always been an early riser. I do admit to learning to sleep in a little on weekends as I grow older, but since surgery 6-7 hours is about all I can spend in the bed. I am not a back sleeper, and it's still a little hard for me to sleep on my side.

I've always been convinced that early morning is the best time of the day. Around here it is quiet. My step-son, Ian is an early riser too, but his goal is always to find out who is awake and who will fill him with cereal. Ian is about to turn 24, but with the mental age of about a three year old. His needs are basic and he really lives by his biological clock. When it gets dark, he sleeps and when the sun rises, he is up too. Give him a bowl of cheerios or rice chex and he is content.

Sunday morning is always my time to catch up on the news, explore the Internet, looking for genealogical connections or interesting blogs that discuss my two favorite things, genealogy or library service for kids. It is also a great time for writing. This is why I love blogs. This past year, I used them with fourth and fifth grade students--and they loved them. Given the opportunity to write "publicly" kids shine. They eat up the comments from other students and often interact with each other's writing. It's a great way to extend Writer's Notebook. One of last year's students actually writes a serial novel in her blog! Now there's an idea, Gayle, if you never get published you could just put your novel right here on the pages of your blog.

One of the interesting things I learned this morning on the Internet is that we DON'T really swallow spiders in our sleep. I can't tell you how relieved I am to learn that fact. Spiders scare me! I am happy to know that I scare them too and wandering near nostrils or a mouth where carbon dioxide is escaping is not one of their favorite things to do! Yeah!! Maybe that will help me sleep later tomorrow.

Shopping at NorthPark

I hadn't really been out of the house in two weeks, unless you count the visit to Plano Presby to get the staples out. I was tired of being housebound, so we sent Ian to grandma's house and went to the mall. I love Northpark. I mean, who wouldn't love a mall with Neiman's, Nordstrom, Macy's, Dillards, Coldwater Creek--and of course Build a Bear. I think my husband, Eric, likes that store even more than Dylan and I do. When I was in the hospital Eric went there and had a black lab made, put it in nurse's scrubs and christened her Lizzie, one of my nicknames. I usually end up taking my build-a-bear babies to school for my library. I have a bear named Mo, who during hockey season sports a Stars uniform. He appeared on Tiger News Network this past year, when the Stars were in the playoffs. The students just loved him.

Back to Northpark! I splurged on makeup at Nordstrom. Afterall, I go back to school in a week--gotta look good. Of course, I also visited Bath and Body works and stopped by Coldwater Creek. Saw a great shirt there, that I have to have, but I am stilling thinking about color. The white one is nice, but I love the blue one--which one shall it be? If you are familiar with Northpark you know that Coldwater Creek is right next door to the Apple store--Eric's favorite place at the mall. We didn't go in today, though. The lines are still long for the Apple phone--my goodness--what's the big deal? It's a phone, people. Eric said they are making 800,000 a week and still can't keep up with the demand. We didn't even try to go in--some of those line waiters looked hostile.

Next weekend I am going to the mall with Leigh and Dylan in tow. It's tax free weekend and Dylan starts kindergarten at La Villita on August 25. Since it is a uniform school Dylan needs to stock up on red, blue, white and green polos and khaki pants.

Confessions of a Mad Writer

Writing is comforting like a soft pillow with just the right concaves, like an old stuffed animal that you carried through childhood, like a Hallmark card from a dear friend. Writing is thought provoking like a sound bite from the evening news, like a campaign slogan, like a comment from a colleague. Writing is obsessive, like too many potato chips, like my need to have my bed look just right when I make it, like my constant search for another ancestor to help me define more clearly who I am.
Writing is a disease.

Recently I’ve been writing morning, noon and night. While this is probably due to my participation in the National Writing Project Summer Institute, I am tentatively hoping the frequent writing continues long after the institute. I say tentatively because I am beginning to experience some of the symptoms of mad writer’s disease. Let me share those symptoms with you, in case you think you may be suffering from the same malady.

First, you think about writing all the time. This symptom manifests itself in many ways. You are driving down the highway with a definite destination in mind. Suddenly you get an idea for a story in your head and before you know it you are ten miles past your exit and hoping you can think of a great excuse for being late. A second manifestation of this symptom is ignoring your spouse. You can hear a faint din similar to the low hum of a neighbor’s lawn mower; nothing that’s particularly bothersome but certainly nothing you have to pay close attention to either. That is until you pre-writing thoughts are shattered by your husband firing your name in rapid succession like gunfire at the shooting range. “Gayle, Gayle, Gayle—are you listening to me?”
Let’s not forget the failure to separate the darks from the whites because you are pondering how to apply the rule of three to your writing. The first time your husband has to wear pink briefs you are sure to be reminded of you illness. I’ve already gotten out of my bed in the middle of the night, and out of the shower, soapy and dripping, to write something down. I spent a large part of a recent interview formulating, in my head, a persuasive piece based on a single phrase uttered by the interviewer.

The second symptom is the shameless use of your friends and family as the subjects for pieces of writing. My son has already informed me that if I put his slut story in print he’ll find a way to get even. I don’t know why it bothers him so much. I am sure every seven year old boy has confused those rolly, polly little bugs for sluts. I hope the mere mention of it here doesn’t drive him to revenge. My grandson has been the subject of many of my past stories—but thank goodness, he’s too young to protest. For her fortieth birthday last October I presented my good friend, Amy, with what I thought was the perfect gift—a tribute piece to our friendship. Thankfully, she agreed, cried all over her present, and then gave me a huge hug. Today, it was thoughts of a Konni story—she’s a librarian friend who just accepted a new position. Formulating the writing in my head took me right past my exit.

Carrying your writing notebook everywhere is the third symptom. You whip it out like a tourist brandishes his camera—snapping shots at moments, unexpected and sacred, catching everyone off guard. The checker at the grocery store asked me the other day why I was taking notes. Perhaps she was insecure in her job. More than a few people turned heads when I whipped out my phone and snapped photos of the turtles in the concrete pond at North Park mall. The photos were immediately followed by the appearance of my notebook so I could free write about turtles.

Lots of lovely little turtles, turtles in water, turtles out of water, turtles in a pile, turtles under the sun lamp—sun lamp?—note to self, research why turtles need sunlamps—are they bronzing their shells? There sure are a lot of turtles in that very small pond. Maybe I should write an anonymous letter to the SPCA.
All this free writing is reminding me of a college friend who always had a smile on her face, a kind word for everyone, and a song in her heart. Unfortunately the song that most frequently came to her lips was Climb Every Mountain from the Sound of Music. She’d sing it in the student union. She’d sing it on the way to class. She’d sing it at frat parties. It didn’t take long before all the members of my boyfriend’s fraternity referred to her as Climb Every. Will “free writer” replace “Shorty” as my nickname—not freedom writer, grant writer or published writer—just free writer?
That brings me to my last symptom—revision aversion. You’ve done some pre-writing activities, come up with a great topic, taken out your notebook and free wrote until your wrist was numb. You took the best lines and put them into a piece you think is great—but is it? You revised, used brush strokes, applied the rule of three, and sprinkled it with lively action verbs. Just when you think you have a final copy, your kindly response group has suggested you might want to move a few things around, add some words, take some away, and the whole process begins again.

I have the disease—and I don’t want to get well.

It's a New Day

Yesterday all physical remnants of my recent surgery were removed. Wow! What a relief! I am still very tender, but physically, I haven't felt better in years. It will be a real joy to return to school in a week, minus that hernia and feeling at least ten years younger. For those of you who haven't heard, I am changing schools again. After four fantastic years at Freeman, I am off to open another new school library at La Villita Elementary. I can not wait! The building is positively beautiful and the library is a central focal point with it's raised natural wood ceilings and window walls.

Open Hernia Surgery

I had an incisional hernia repair last Monday. After two days in the hospital I was released on Wednesday afternoon and returned home with staples and a wound drain. I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow and hopefully both will come out. All in all, the experience was not too bad. I don't remember one thing from the OR. Those pre-op drugs are good!!

I had an IV and catheter in until midday on Tuesday when both came out. I haven't been taking anything but a strong NAISAID for pain and am taking a strong antibiotic to prevent infection. I don't like being sick or restricted but am trying really hard to stick close to a comfy chair and my bed. I am wearing a band which the doctor recommends using for at least 4-6 weeks. I won't argue. It is nice to be waited on!!

The Theater

I attended a performance of High School Musical at the Dallas Summer Theater. It was an energetic if somewhat chaotic performance. There were lots of young girls in the audience who were very attentive to the entire show. More interesting was the production going on in the ladies room. Four rest room attendants ran the coming and going like the director of a Broadway show—Arms motioning, voices commanding, “This way, ladies, two openings this way.” I felt as though I was in a commercial for Visa Check card. You know the one, where motion is fast, furious and controlled until someone tries to pay with cash or a check and everything stops. I will say they kept things moving, like a finely oiled machine—in and out in no time. I think they need these ladies at the ball park, Texas Stadium and the AA Center.

A Writing Fool

I've spent the last three weeks at North Star of Texas National Writing Project Summer Institute. What an amazing experience this has been. The opportunity to share my writing and hear the stories and poetry of an other 17 women has been life affirming and emotional, truly a transforming opportunity.

Here's one of my poems, inspired by a brief lesson on the Alamo.

I am
a spiritual place
where many feet have trod
none so remembered as that day in 1836.

I am
a place of God
that has witnessed ungodly acts
and stand in testament for all to know what happened here.

I am
the dirt that took in the blood
of men from two places
who met here on that fateful day
and fought to the death.

I am
the walls that echoed the screams of fear and pain
that offered resistance for many days
until our noble efforts failed.

I am
the ceiling that bore the cannon and musket fire
until the night stars looked down on those inside
counseling them the end was near.

I am
the air, staid and still
that enfolds you now
as you remember what happened here.

I am
the Alamo.




Gayle Baar
North Star of Texas Summer Institute 2008

Crowns

Eric and I attended the Greater Lewisville Community Theater production of Crowns tonight. Teresa Ferrell Buntain, director, is a long time friend from R. L. Turner High School. The play portrays the importance of hats among African American woman of the south. The play continues next weekend too. It would be a great Mother's Day present to share this play.

I was reminded of my own mother's love for hats and how I loved to go to the hat shop with her. As they performed the old gospel hymn, His Eye is on the Sparrow, which was my mother's favorite, I could see her sitting at her organ, singing this song. As for the hats--apparently I thought they were pretty cool too!

Travis

This is my dog, Travis. You may notice that Travis thinks he's human. He enjoys getting up on the bed, put his head on the pillow and cover up with the comforter. He's a cute little Pomeranian. Right now he is sporting his spring hair cut, which makes him look very "foxy."

Stars Hockey

We lost tonight. There were some pretty stupid calls or lack of calls, but still we should have been able to put the series away tonight. Let's hope they can do that on Sunday and move on to the Western Conference championship game with Detroit. It will get interesting around here if that happens since my husband was born in raised in a Detroit suburb and is a loyal Red Wing fan.

Welcome to my blog. Nothing particular in mind, just the idle ramblings of genealogy loving, book toting, librarian and grandmother.