Friday, December 23, 2005

one more before Christmas break


Merry Christmas, dear friends. I know only about 5 people read this so I don't get to tell as many as I would like but at least I get to say it to you. I hope that 2006 is better for all of us because I don't think 2005 has been a banner year for anyone I know and certainly it hasn't been too swift for me. I have a little of that cautious optimism going still and I believe that 2006 will bring peace and resolution to a lot of people I know. I think this time next year we're all going to feel a lot better.

A couple of years ago I sent out a Christmas letter with a poem by U.A. Fanthorpe that I loved... Tim said nobody got it. Before I sign off for a few days I thought I'd share it here... because I believe people will get it. I think it's pretty profound to think that one child's birth literally changed the way we define time.

BC:AD
This was the moment when Before
Turned into After, and the future's
Uninvented timekeepers presented arms.
This was the moment when nothing
Happened. Only dull peace
Sprawled boringly over the earth.
This was the moment when even energetic Romans
Could find nothing better to do
Than counting heads in remote provinces.
And this was the moment
When a few farm workers and three
Members of an obscure Persian sect
Walked haphazard by starlight straight
Into the kingdom of heaven.

(By the way, that's my new grand-nephew standing in for the baby Jesus.)

Merry Christmas, Rose

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

pray hard

I love hands. In my favorite baby picture I look not at the faces but rather at the hands: how my mother is holding me and how I hold mine out to touch the photographer, the camera, the world. That I am reaching out for something is abundantly clear.

In the last few years, my oft abused hands have started showing my age. My face doesn't as much... I'm often guessed to be younger than my 38 years, sometimes much younger. But my hands tell the story. Puffy from salty holiday food and an overheated office, broken nails dotted with those little white marks people sometimes get, scars, a new mole, heavy lines. I have a numb spot and a c-shaped scar on the tip of my left ring finger from when I cut the tip with a kitchen knife one Saturday morning. I still remember all the places I had terrible warts as a young teen and a skin rash attributed to "nervousness" when I was a girl. I am constantly lotioning and balming all winter long to ward off dryness and hangnails. I joke that my hands are my picture of Dorian Grey-- while my face doesn't show my age, my hands grow older by the minute.

Today, though, besides the usual physical flaws and the simple, beautiful wedding rings T bought me, there is a new addition to my hand. My friend Frau Lobster sat with me over dinner last night and in conversation, pulled something off her finger. "I got you this a long time ago," she said, dropping a silver ring on the table. Carved in to the band were the words, "Pray Hard". I immediately tried it on every digit until I found the one that fit best. I was glad to slip it on my own finger while it was still warm from hers.

Today I catch myself looking at it often. I've been needing a reminder lately because I feel like I've been reaching for God and He's been just out of touch. I know that I'm the one that has drifted away -- because God never moves. So I look down and I remember that I need to talk to him. After all, it's open communication that creates intimacy in relationships and the reminder to "pray hard" is just what I need right now.

Just as I was in that long ago baby picture, I guess I'm still grasping for something.

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Welcome home, little birdie


After 4 months in Spain, our girl is finally coming home. Her jubilant father just e-mailed me to tell me the "birdie has landed" at Newark, NJ. By tonight she'll be tucked in to her bed in middle America with visions of Spanish sugarplums dancing in her head.

It is a troubling, joyful truth that we parent-types work to give our children a glimpse of what is possible, even knowing that when they see for themselves, they may never want to come home. For now the birdie is home to roost but she's already planning to fly away again -- and maybe next time, for good.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Christmas gifts I would like to give


Wendy McClure over at Pound has a list of things she'd like to get for Christmas, which inspired me this morning to create a list of things I'd like to give ... and a few things I would like to get.

1) For T: comfort, peace, a sudden overload of holiday cheer and a job he can love, get promoted in and retire from. Comfortably. Also a killer BBQ sauce recipe we can later sell to Kingsford.

2) For A: an open-ended, use-whenever-she-wants ticket to Spain and a vision of heaven she can get excited about. Also when she's in Spain, menus with pictures in every restaurant.

3) For K: a four-year scholarship to the school of her choice and the confidence to be true to herself. Also, her own Bath & Bodyworks store with constantly rotating stock of new scents.

4) For mom: a 30 year old body to go with her 30 year old mind and all the chicken livers and vanilla cokes she wants with no consequences.

5)For the Lobster and Frau & Deester and Ern: perfect health for every member of the family: no more pills, no more surgeries, no more runs to the emergency room. And a magic wormhole that zaps me to them in seconds, not hours.

6) For MT: to wake up on Christmas morning like Jimmy Stewart in "It's a Wonderful Life" and realize it was all a horrible dream and things are as they should be.

7) for the boss: normal, boring relatives.

8)for the Cat: her boy back (and the only attitude he has is "new"). And a miracle baby 'cause she's crazy and thinks she wants one.

For myself I would like to know the perfect thing to say and do every time I open my mouth. I would like a scale that always reads 135# and a body to match. I would like about 150 do-overs. And today, I'd take a chair and a fireplace and my cats and a good book.

Friday, December 09, 2005

Habla usted Ingles?

My post today was inspired by the above article. I am not going to even address the hateful comments made by some who view Kansas as barefoot-ignorant and undeserving of a place in the Union. To get things rolling, I pose two questions: 1) what is our national language and 2) why does it matter?

A: Surprise! The U.S. has no national language. While we have a national bird, a national anthem, even a national flower, there is no national language. But we've been doing OK so far: for a while now, everyone's been getting off the boat and generally agreeing to American English. We've managed to work in some non-English words too -- we borrow liberally from everyone to reflect the many Irish, Italian, German, Polish, Greek, Cuban, Chinese, etc. etc. people who've joined our ranks here in the USA over the last 300 years. But mostly we speak English.

A #2: A national language is really only about convenience. In basic terms, taxpayers don't want to pay what it would take to communicate to the hundreds of nationalities that live here in their own native tongues. Until science perfects a Star-trekkie instant language converter, we have to manage the old fashioned way: we have to learn the dominant language of the country in which we choose to live. Therefore, if I decided to say, move to Spain, I would definitely need to work on the Castillian, 'cause mine sucks. If I wanted to move to France, well, I just wouldn't. French seems too hard.

I guess it could also be a sign of unity and maybe that's why we're struggling now... It's no longer really cool in the world view to be "American". The world thinks we're fat, we're arrogant and we have lousy food. They want our lifestyle but no longer want our culture or our values. In my opinion this is starting to foster a national attitude of self-loathing and has made us kind of cranky and fractious.

Moving on to the issue of Spanish vs. English:
Hispanics moving to the US want to preserve their language and their culture. Hooray for them. That's not sarcastic, I mean it. It's great. BUT if you want your kids educated in public school they should 1) be told to follow instructions and 2) it should be expected that they will need to speak the dominant, if unofficial, language, which is English. If you want your kids to speak only Spanish, you should home school. (Again, if you are going to move to another country to live, it really behooves you to learn the language. And yes, I know it takes time: we'll wait.)

The kid in question was born here-- Spanish is no more his "native language" than French is mine. His father's - yes. OK. But he is, whether he likes it or not, (North) American -- just as I am. The thing that really jumped out to me when I read this article is that this incident took place in an alternate high school, known here as AEP. That means this 17 year old American kid was kicked out of regular high school -- I'm sure he didn't just up and volunteer to go to AEP, which is usually not a super-fun place to be. He was warned previously that day about speaking in Spanish and if quizzed, probably a whole bunch of times before that. I know it sounds dumb to make a rule against speaking Spanish, but consider: I don't know about you but if I'm a teacher in any high school and particularly an urban AEP, I want to know what the kids are saying. If this information is still applicable in 2005 (and I'm sure it is), 4 out of every 100 teachers is attacked by a student... in a district the size of USD 500, Turner and Piper (lumped here for convenience and referred to as the KCK schools) that's about 2 teachers per year being jumped by kids. But that's a national average, which factors in rural and private schools. These are urban schools and in urban schools the numbers are higher. So asking a 17-year old American male who is months away from being an adult and most likely pretty grownup sized to speak English in an AEP suddenly becomes more reasonable, at least it does to me.

To summarize, I think it might be wise for the federal government to designate something as the national language, as our neighbors to the north have done. English seems the natural choice as it is still the primary language of at least 70% of Americans. This is not to exclude anyone but rather to preclude any more bickering and any possible lawsuits that may come of the issue. We've more important things to worry about, don't we?And following the crafty Canuck's example, we can designate a second language, too, this perhaps being Spanish. Why not? It couldn't hurt our kids to be bilingual -- practically every other country in the world requires their kids to learn another language. We can too.

If schools want to preclude kids from speaking anything except proper English, they better have it in writing and give the parents plenty of warning and a reasonable explanation. Personally I think they should preclude kids from talking teenagerish: this means no use of the words "like", "totally", "tight", "da bomb", "hella" and "bling". I find that far more obnoxious and just as indecipherable (Good God when did I become an old lady?).

And, finally, if you want to preserve your culture, please do so. Most of us in the US are pretty open minded. We understand that you don't want to forget your background -- neither do we. That's why we celebrate St. Patrick's Day, Cinco de Mayo, Columbus Day. That's why there are still places where whole towns plant tulips in the spring and why you can walk in to the stores and buy anything from Kimchi to Kolachis. But let's NOT twist what is really a disciplinary matter and make it in to a racist incident. While we have certainly had our problems in the past it's still a national point of pride that this may be the one place on earth where pretty much everyone is welcome.

Thursday, December 08, 2005

snow day



Coming to work when there's 8" of snow on the ground is not so much fun, except that my boss sometimes feels bad for those of us who actually hauled our cookies in, so we get free pizza. That's cool.

Here's a picture of the view out the front door as T was shoveling our cars out at the crack of dawn (the one still covered in snow is mine... it's behind the car on the right)and the view from the back door to the deck (which was frozen shut). Brrrr.

K was still toasty warm in bed when we left ... made me want to go in and mess with her a little bit. But I remember the joy of the high school snow day ... my mom and I would sleep late and then get up and make these long sled runs and sled with the dogs on our laps. So I let her be.

Our weather forcasters called for the following amounts on Tuesday night:
CBS - 6"
ABC - 1-2"
Fox - 2-3"
NBC - 2-4"

Actual amounts around town? 7.3-9.5". One more reason why the most reliable weather coverage we have here is the ol' "walk out your door" method. This approach is especially amusing when you do and the weathercasters don't and as you're watching the hail/rain/snow fall they say "we might see some precipitation ..." No kiddin'. Thanks.

In the meantime I'm enjoying a quiet day at the office, some hot chocolate and looking forward to the pizza.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

cozy




Crappy weather inspires me to go inside and start rearranging the furniture. It's been cold and grey and threatening snow now for 3 days.

This weekend was enjoyable for the sheer fact that I got to "cute up" my house a little bit. We spent all day Saturday running: eye doctor, car service, lunch with in-laws, auto parts store, cleaning out the cars, Christmas shopping, grocery shopping. By the time we stopped it was nearly 9pm and my house was still under 3" of dust and cat hair and the tree was still in the attic. So, Sunday after church, the fun got under way. Let me tell you, there is nothing a man loves better than moving furniture. After a large amount of grouching on his part, I finally let him climb underneath that afghan you see on the couch and nap while I enjoyed the benefits of my spiffy new Dirt Devil and cleaned enough cat hair out of our house to knit a new cat.

At 12:30 am Monday morning I finally finished turning the place upside down and putting up what modest Christmas decorations I was in the mood for. I think the results are ... cozy. My mother did a good job of teaching me how to do something with not much. For this I thank her, a lot. Amusing little side notes about the above picture: 1) I bet not many people you know under the age of 70 still have a console TV! Yep, that baby's probably 20 years old and hasn't died yet. 2) The brown lump in the chair is my favorite Christmas reindeer. He's super soft and has little bells on his antlers. 3) Notice the position of honor the Grinch gets on the tree. T does love the Grinch. 4) I gotta get rid of those granny lace sheers sometime, that's a little too much lace for me.

For now, anyway, the house is clean, the tree is up, some of the gifts are purchased (although none are wrapped, that's next) and my house is pleasing to me.

OK, NOW let the Holiday season begin!

Thursday, December 01, 2005

finished photo album

pics from Spain

and this is the last time I talk about it, I promise...