tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38317148062894497602024-02-22T11:42:28.718-06:00Cari-OkieEmpty Nest, Full LifeCarihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.comBlogger310125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-79677491002908859722010-11-18T20:34:00.002-06:002010-11-18T21:12:39.612-06:00My worldRandom thoughts from my day that I wanted to tweet but I haven't found an app for my new(ish) phone. I have to be content with sharing my thoughts only with myself. Gasp.<br /><br />Today ended a relatively long period of time during which I have not fallen or otherwise injured myself. I fell UP some stairs in a very public place and a young man who looks like the blond kid on Glee -you know, the new cast member - paused while talking on his cell phone to ask if I was OK. Oh, I was fine. Just FINE, thank you very much. I felt very old and I need Advil.<br /><br />I guess really it hasn't been all that long since I injured myself. There was the incident where the hot gooey stuff on a Panera cinnamon crunch bagel jumped onto my thumb like a tick and burned a hole at the base of the nail. That's one way to get rid of those annoying cuticles. But I haven't actually FALLEN in quite a while, which for me is nothing short of miraculous. I don't remember being particularly clumsy as a child. It's definitely an acquired talent.<br /><br />Lately on the way to work I've been driving around construction crews doing mysterious things. Today all was revealed. They have installed beautifully executed wheelchair ramps at the curb of every corner near Penn and I-40. They are quite something to behold, these ramps. Except that they lead straight into the soggy grass - ramps to nowhere. There are no sidewalks. I certainly hope that they are connected very soon by sidewalks, otherwise it will have been a monumental waste of time and money. Did the city get stimulus money specifically to make curbs wheelchair accessible? Weird. At least now the panhandlers can pull their shopping carts or bicycles or wheelchairs closer to the traffic. I'm not being insensitive about the wheelchair thing. They clearly do NOT need wheelchairs. Seriously people, stop giving them money.<br /><br />I've had bouts of giddiness the last couple of days. I think it has to do with the cold weather and the Christmas music I'm playing in my car. It just clears the head and makes one sort of stupid happy. Truthfully I'm not a big fan of the actual holidays, but I do love the atmosphere and the days leading up to Thanksgiving and Christmas. I think it has something to do with unrealistic expectations. Everything is supposed to look and feel and smell like perfection, right? Wrong. Life isn't quite that clean and neat and free from drama. I need to approach the holidays fully expecting messiness and fussiness and a predictably unpredictable amount of non-cooperation and imperfection. Then I'll be pleasantly surprised if it turns out well. I should be <a href="http://cari-okie.blogspot.com/2010/08/happiness-is-subjective.html">Danish.</a><br /><br />Tomorrow I say good-bye to all my new friends at United Way who now feel like old friends. So I'm off to bed early in order to be fresh for the very early morning celebration breakfast.Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-45409135289377639352010-11-17T07:01:00.004-06:002010-11-18T08:38:47.502-06:00BlessingsThis week is my last week at United Way as a Loaned Executive. It's interesting how when you are shoved through the door into a room with 25 complete strangers you come out the other door three months later with 25 new friends. I can't think of too many other examples of an opportunity to put your daily work life on hold for a few months while you go do something good for somebody else, and at the same time gain skills, knowledge and a bunch of new contacts. Pretty awesome. I would encourage anyone to do it.<br /><br />I'm on my way to speak at my last rally of the campaign season. Then I'll spend the rest of the day and week making final contacts with my accounts, rounding up those last dollars, wrapping things up. And counting my blessings. 'Tis the season! Oh, and while I'm driving around...I'll be listening to Dave Barnes Very Merry Christmas album. If you buy one Christmas album this season, make it that one!<br /><br /><br /><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eUgfLwBPVR0?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eUgfLwBPVR0?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object>Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-90175334249854355392010-11-14T18:01:00.004-06:002010-11-14T18:30:56.952-06:00What'chu lookin' at?<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv5f4ZiRp3T-yQJ2gI9VCfpYnA3ubkoOUxc_Dv17KipnhdBXkMlHMPkWKBhrUz2VqXvnDWUs54zZwHosqCXMdnPvgrutaXydbseNViQ7Z-K6jxTx2OWWy9ofqVQB2VVw-INgsMlTflyPs/s1600/Tex+Avery+cartoon.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 272px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539567047001848034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv5f4ZiRp3T-yQJ2gI9VCfpYnA3ubkoOUxc_Dv17KipnhdBXkMlHMPkWKBhrUz2VqXvnDWUs54zZwHosqCXMdnPvgrutaXydbseNViQ7Z-K6jxTx2OWWy9ofqVQB2VVw-INgsMlTflyPs/s400/Tex+Avery+cartoon.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">Illustration by cartoonist Tex Avery</span></div><br /><br />In my younger days I could turn a head. You know what I'm talking about - bring on a second glance from an admiring male. But, as the years have added up with the pounds, that has happened less and less. Or maybe it's because men are too busy checking out my beautiful daughters. That always makes me want to smack them (the men, not the daughters) and point out that I'm their mother and I'm RIGHT HERE! HELLO! I can see you! Once I was at an office party and talking with a group of younger men. One of them was clearly checking out my daughter, who was standing across the room. He even went so far as to make a suggestive comment to one of the other guys. I was all "ahem - before you take that thought any further, I want to point out that she is my daughter, and I would be happy to introduce you to her husband and her father, who are IN THE NEXT ROOM! Sheesh.<br /><br />Recently though, I've noticed a strange new phenomenon. Older dudes are taking a second glance at me. I find myself wondering what that old guy is staring at. Why is he smiling in my direction? Really, I don't get it. Do I look familiar to them? Are they just passing gas? Because I don't feel like my looks are worth a second glance. I'm not saying that in a self-deprecating sort of way. I'm just stating it as fact. I have seen better days and a lot of cookies. I do have nice hair though. Maybe older men like nice hair.<br /><br />I shared this thought with my sister and she pointed out that the "old" dudes were probably our age. I guess that makes me feel a little less creeped out but it really doesn't make me feel any better or give me an answer to the mystery. Because it does seem a little like a mystery.Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-87499297206091518892010-10-06T19:59:00.003-05:002010-10-07T22:24:08.151-05:00If I only had a brain...freezeYawn. That's what my blog has been lately. Not because my life is a yawn but because I just...well, I just...I don't know what I just. I do know I enjoyed doodling the artwork you see on my blog. Maybe it's a metaphor for my life. Lots of interesting things flowering in my brain but very little of it fully colored in or complete.<br /><br />We've had some relatives in. I burned myself on another cinnamon crunch bagel. That's becoming a weekly ritual. Maybe next time I'll go with something with less topping that can stick to my thumb and burn a hole in me before I can shake it off. I entered another writing contest just for the practice. The gig at United Way is good. We are getting to the heart of the campaign so it's rallies here and rallies there; Air Force base, police station, call center, and lots and lots of schools. That's where I've taken my dog and pony show lately. Hopefully along the way I've raised a little awareness and a little money.<br /><br />I'm reading "The Secret Life of the Grown-Up Brain" by Barbara Strauch. It's subtitled "The Surprising Talents of the Middle-Aged Mind." I'm still looking for those talents. The other day I got out a pair of socks and my shoes to go for a walk. Once I finished tieing my right shoe I realized I was no longer holding my left sock. I looked everywhere - even retraced my recent steps and shook out my clothes. I looked everywhere except my left foot, which is where my sock was. I had already put it on. Does anyone else scare themselves like that or is it just me? Anyone? Hello?<br /><br />What was I saying? Oh yes. So the author of this book quotes Laura Carstensen, director of the Stanford Center on Longevity who said: "I'd have to say from what we know now, that the middle-aged brain is downright formidable."<br /><br />Really? Can it be true? Strauch says "Most of us, while beset with a normal level of middle-aged muddle, are, in fact, quite normal. What's more, we're quite smart." OK, I like that. I'll go with that.<br /><br />I do think my mind leans more towards creativity and less towards sweating the small stuff and the details. Another thought from Strauch:<br /><br />"A friend who is a poet told me recently that she does not think that she could have written the poetry she does until she had reached her mid-fifties -- until her brain had reached its formidable age. 'It feels like all the pieces needed to come together,' she said. 'It's only now that my brain feels ready. It can see how the world fits together -- and make poetry out of it.'"<br /><br />Hmm. Think I'll go ponder while I watch Modern Family. Now if I could only remember where I put the remote.<br /><br /><br /><object width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/m-_t_m0Yo8k?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/m-_t_m0Yo8k?fs=1&hl=en_US" width="480" height="295" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-57983913280305809302010-09-14T07:33:00.000-05:002010-09-14T09:51:42.516-05:00Deconstructing CariI'm pulling up the couch for this post. You're the therapist, I'm the patient.<br /><br />Me: So Doc, if I hated my previous job - well, hate is a strong word - but if I was constantly super super stressed at my previous job, and I have all kinds of ideas in my head for starting my own business, and I've actually already started a nonprofit with my sister, then why am I irresistibly drawn to looking for a "real" job?<br /><br />You: Well, let's explore that. How does how does that make you feel?<br /><br />Me: I guess I like the security of having a paycheck and the confidence that comes with having an actual job title in an actual company that folks might recognize.<br /><br />You: Good, good. And how does that make you feel?<br /><br />Me: Um, insecure?<br /><br />You: Now we're getting somewhere. How does that make you feel?<br /><br />OK enough of the role playing. I'm about ready to punch you. You should never have become my involuntary therapist! But really, I find myself drawn like a magnet to the security and stability of a "real" job. And then there's the no health care thing.<br /><br />Every time I bring this topic up with Mark he's all "I thought we already had this discussion". Well yes. Yes we did. And I'm allowed to waffle! So how do I demagnetize myself? How do I push past the need for security and free fall into a commitment to self-employment? Any ideas? Anyone?Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-4906882415635465232010-09-13T06:58:00.006-05:002010-09-13T07:24:21.649-05:00Poke U<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHh52UtLXZIPIDir9KYgZqf-uTmU-VQllrQkFq0H1dmvU2XuIEhAzQ466APzxlLz6AfnkhlYnOnKf-JC88lgpLeO5IHHdpGsLCwgAJzvCgX9DwBHdodIue_CXLeFHPWicvSPjyaCbIZ0g/s1600/dadsday4.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516370782141438322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHh52UtLXZIPIDir9KYgZqf-uTmU-VQllrQkFq0H1dmvU2XuIEhAzQ466APzxlLz6AfnkhlYnOnKf-JC88lgpLeO5IHHdpGsLCwgAJzvCgX9DwBHdodIue_CXLeFHPWicvSPjyaCbIZ0g/s400/dadsday4.jpg" /></a> <div><div>Go Pokes! Great game on Saturday. At least that was the general consensus. Football in any form makes my eyes roll back in my head. I used to try to be attentive - act like I care. But no. I really just don't.<br /><br /><div>The good thing about Saturday's game was that I was there in person, so the eyes stayed mainly in their sockets. I know when one of the dudes in orange appears to be running at high speed towards one of the goal posts that it's a good thing and I can cheer him on with the best of them. I know that when the old dude in the stripey pajamas puts his hands straight above his head it's a good thing. That would be a touch down and that is good news. Otherwise, I have a hard time following the ball or the game. My sister was a cheerleader one year in high school and I remember trying gamely to learn the rules. Something about first and down or fourth and down. I don't think they can go past four downs before they have to either get the stripey pajama guy to do his thing or politely give the ball to the other guys in the weird pants and Arnold Schwarzenegger shoulders.</div><div></div><br /><div>It was a good occasion for hanging out with family though.</div><br /><br /><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 323px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516369274630084258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjzz3YdivEXK1i1NCjnzQcc8SRb8zHn3dHQu7v_OeyOmq1CujarEbnWi4XfQXRdVsi0mPGQPDovh_BP8q3k3NkL32RwcKlGiHfETihkLhrKh96PCXznfz8lhU1UEPf60l16XQiyL4GA9o/s400/dadsday3.jpg" /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 307px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516369269061366706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZ8fm-S6g0SmYuX3v-0qHoLEp7T32V95mAjjrQ_5USF0PQHvNhRgDOzE_JJRveMrhyXKKDn4MtlZfCQOf9O4m22fe0M5oz-j5wmZ2Nez2vwVisf06c2pdqkioi64iZawRmXzGBHy1VFs/s400/dads-day-1.jpg" />It was Dad's Day but we all butted in and went anyway. As my sister Shari said, "I didn't know cuteness was so important at these things." Probably because we were hanging out with the sorority bunch...or the pretty girls from the flag corp.</div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 370px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516370338111230802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3PDFDTXyLIBjnXLTd0aRVbUHXM26E82nMM1ATSeV-pFKW8OQJSyiTl6fCyHrfo5W1Wm5d2Q9s7q9X9F6ZnbkSDvEZp8gd0yNwn8XJJghxKegIA26WSD12xAV4inNsBDb0qHlT_P4dE94/s400/dads-day-alli-and-tessa.jpg" /> </div><div>OSU Cousins! Do they not look like they could be sisters? I guess if their mothers are identical twins then genetically they are half sisters right? Anyone?</div><div> </div><div>So other than hanging out with the beautiful people, I've just been working away saving the world one dollar at a time. The gig with United Way is going well. We mercifully finished training, have been assigned our sectors and accounts, and are busy raising those dollars. I've been assigned the entire education sector, which means I'm covering all the large school districts in the city and many of the small ones. Which is cool. Except teachers don't really get paid much here in Oklahoma and what they do get paid they spend on their students. So let's just say I'm glad I don't get paid on commission. Don't get me wrong - educators are some of the most generous people I know. But you can only squeeze a dollar so tightly before it squirts out its last penny. I'm just sayin'.</div><div> </div><div>In other news, I entered a writing contest and... well, I guess that's all the other news. I should get the results in about six weeks, at which point I will have forgotten all about it.</div><div> </div><div>Hope you have a great week! Hugs to all!!<br /><br /></div><div><div></div><div> </div></div>Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-82601240708490521682010-08-31T07:24:00.007-05:002010-08-31T18:02:53.140-05:00The rest of the story<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOrbFpBq63ctOjhA4W-1sepliQ7HhkyjM4HP7HgU9Oq3yS2Vh-IzamNcsIoTCDEq9rA8uPFxvM3wl3elyQ5aSNwNymtKZzo0TrVCYpxrVqt91wDjQFBZK257O8KYU7R3awRZYxMadIbmI/s1600/Somewhere_-_UWCO_RGB.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 379px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 219px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511713121880603218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOrbFpBq63ctOjhA4W-1sepliQ7HhkyjM4HP7HgU9Oq3yS2Vh-IzamNcsIoTCDEq9rA8uPFxvM3wl3elyQ5aSNwNymtKZzo0TrVCYpxrVqt91wDjQFBZK257O8KYU7R3awRZYxMadIbmI/s400/Somewhere_-_UWCO_RGB.jpg" /></a> <div><div>Let me introduce you to the children I spoke of in my last post. The ones who got off the bus just in time to witness the scuffle and cuffing of a homeless dude? Turns out those children are homeless as well. As Paul Harvey taught us, there's almost always "the rest of the story".<br /><br />Yesterday I started the three month job with United Way as a Loaned Executive. We train for a week and yesterday was the first of those training days. The entire afternoon was spent riding around on a big bus and touring some of the nonprofits that are Partner Agencies and receive funds from the United Way. I thought I knew about most of the nonprofits in this city. It's sort of my thing. But no. I do not know about ALL of the nonprofits in this city. Did you know there is an elder shelter here? Did you know we needed a shelter for elderly folks fleeing abuse or neglect or who have simply been abandoned? A fragile and vulnerable senior would not survive in a typical homeless shelter, so <a href="http://sunbeamfamilyservices.org/">Sunbeam Services </a>operates a nice shelter in a home environment. They only have room for nine, and they stay pretty full.<br /><br />One gentleman told us his story. While he was in the hospital for surgery (he had throat cancer) his family divided up his stuff, took all his money, and left him for dead. With nowhere to go after the surgery, he came to the elder shelter where they supported him through radiation treatment and recovery until he was able to get out on his own. He's now a dedicated volunteer and considers the Sunbeam family his family.<br /><br />Then there's the woman who was abandoned by her husband. Former missionaries, they had no assets, no money, no home. Her husband apparently just drove off and left her stranded. Who does that?<br /><br />Anyway, back to those kids at the library. They are from a school called <a href="http://www.positivetomorrows.org/">Positive Tomorrows</a>. We toured their facility and I was like, wait a minute. This name sounds really familiar. That was the name on the bus at the library. Positive Tomorrows is a school for homeless children. Here's what their website says:<br /><blockquote><br /><p>Positive Tomorrows is a private, tuition-free school for homeless children,<br />kindergarten through 5th grade. Our students face significant academic and<br />social delays due to missing school and chaotic living conditions–such as living<br />in shelters, on the streets or bouncing from couch to couch. It’s our goal to<br />bring them up to speed socially and academically so that when they transition<br />into public school, they will be successful throughout their years in school as<br />well as life. When we empower them through their education, they begin to see<br />life outside of poverty and homelessness. Positive Tomorrows is their Sanctuary<br />of Hope.</p></blockquote>And remember that I was complaining that our city needs a place for homeless folks to go during the day (other than the library) - a place where they can receive actual services and helpful support and information? Another place we toured yesterday was the office of the <a href="http://www.homelessalliance.org/">Homeless Alliance. </a>They are this very moment building a day center that will house numerous agencies and support services. It will be a place where homeless folks can go during the day (they must leave the shelters for the daytime hours) to get the services they need, get out of the heat or cold, etc. How cool is that! </div><div></div><br /><div>I just thought it was interesting how the experience and questions from a few days ago wrapped around to meet the experiences of yesterday. I have to say I was impressed by every place we visited. Good job, Oklahoma City!!</div></div>Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-17908626065628157122010-08-27T17:44:00.006-05:002010-08-28T10:05:33.720-05:00Beware: Rant AheadI had a <a href="http://www.groupon.com/subscriptions/new?division_p=oklahoma-city">Groupon</a> to the Olive Branch Cafe in downtown OKC, so Mark and I went there for lunch today. Go there if you like Mediterranean food. The decor is early 1980s but the food is great! The waiter/busboy/cashier guy said there was going to be another online coupon coming up next week. I think he said it would be on <a href="http://livingsocial.com/?cm=GBrandTerms_LS&gclid=CO3wrKre2qMCFQEPbAod1i2b8Q">LivingSocial</a>. Tip: If you hurry and go to the site today you too can join the 103 thrifty folks who have snatched up a coupon for a Brazilian wax for $25. Wait, I just double checked and it's TWO Brazilian waxes for $25. So I guess you can...bring a friend? Awkward.<br /><br />After the nice lunch, we had an hour or so to spare before going to a movie so we walked a few blocks to the downtown branch of the library. We each had a short list of things to discuss and it has proven to be helpful to put a time and date on the calendar and get out of the house for these little meetings. Otherwise they never happen. We didn't have anything earth-shattering to talk about - just mundane stuff like finances - and the library has nice tables and a nice sunny atrium. Good idea, right? Wrong.<br /><br />Is it politically incorrect to complain that the homeless population has taken over a really nice facility? I was so very disappointed. Our quiet discussion was suddenly interrupted by a man yelling obscenities and throwing chairs. Followed by more yelling while being evicted by the police assigned to the library. The guy came back for a few more "words", punches were thrown, then just as a class of uniformed elementary school children got off their bus and lined up to enter the library the guy was on the ground with a police officer yelling threats about tazing. The offender was eventually subdued, handcuffed, and hauled out of the library. And I thought talking too loudly was the worst offense in a library.<br /><br />I hope that's not a daily event, for the library staff's sake. They looked pretty unimpressed though. This morning I read about a proposed four percent increase in pay for library employees. I certainly hope they get it. Maybe they should add hardship pay for those who work in the downtown branch. Our informal survey showed that a minimum of 2 of every 3 downtown library patrons were homeless, judging by the lack of bathing and the accompanying plastic bags filled with belongings.<br /><br />While stepping gingerly around the prone and soon to be cuffed man, I noted a poster detailing the library's code of conduct. It was a very long list of behaviors that are banned at the library. Among the most notable were rules against using obscenities, hitting others, throwing things, using the restrooms to bathe or do laundry, and entering the library if you have a communicable disease or lice - all behaviors we witnessed today. Well, except the communicable disease and lice part. Those are difficult to observe, but I can say we did not sit on any of the upholstered chairs.<br /><br />Do I sound like some uppity suburbanite beotch? Mostly I was dissappointed and maybe a little nostalgic. We used to love taking our daughters to the library. We would all find a stack of good books and a chair and enjoy an hour of free and peaceful entertainment on a hot summer day. It's a school day, so of course there were very few children there today, but where were the college students, the retired folks, the mothers with small children, the employees from surrounding businesses stopping by to grab a good book on their lunch hour?<br /><br />They were at Barnes and Noble or at home or in their office reading from their laptop, iPad, or Kindle, that's where. Is the public library going the way of bus and train stations and some public parks? Can libraries survive in the age of internet and electronics? Is the line between the poor and middle class being drawn at public vs. commercial?<br /><br />Dan Walters is director of the Las Vegas-Clark County Public Library in Nevada. Quoted in an article for the <a href="http://www.libraryjournal.com/article/CA74712.html">Library Journal</a>, Walters believes 'People liked hanging out at Borders and Barnes & Noble more than their local library. What does that say to us?... There's obviously something about the ambiance [at bookstores] that they find appealing.'<br /><br />After today I'd say "ambiance" is definitely a key component to a successful library experience.Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-16753618274443026552010-08-23T10:30:00.007-05:002010-08-23T11:22:55.218-05:00Is it stealing if it was put out for the trash?<div align="left">Good morning from the closet office. So I have a question. I wanted a new chair, or at least a more comfortable chair, for my closet office. Right now my desk is at standing height, which is nice when my back is screaming at me to get up and unkink. I have to use a bar stool to sit at the desk, which is OK, except my feet dangle about six inches from the floor and that's not very comfortable. So I was thinking of lowering the desktop to normal sitting height and getting a comfortable chair. Except...there's that unemployed, counting our pennies thing. So I really can't buy the Herman Miller chair I want. </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">This is not the Herman Miller chair I had in mind!</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"></div><a href="http://eameshack.blogspot.com/"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 264px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508639514815907234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQbjpnKyB1NIYa559TmZH5KBGmVIZRm-E6UCCiu1x0JNKs6XxFFNOoAmkJpaEtjBD0A4B48zBWeWPwRQW0i1w5WuMCnDRgXmlEv9us-Fp6Izcp8ZSs4zcsvMTpvkLo-40MYWVJH7vTE0Y/s400/herman-miller.jpg" /></a> <p align="center"> And neither is this one, but love the ingenuity! <em><span style="font-size:78%;">(Photos and designs from<a href="http://eameshack.blogspot.com/"> Eames Hack</a>)</span></em><br /></p><p align="left"><a href="http://eameshack.blogspot.com/"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508639583564461394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjndYbBEd7mDIgnNIuO3GDL5Oygk_ACcYB-6UoWBaoKCFOg41lLwnMuzj2eZKa5GvZk4kxVrV99qOW7BDsZylGrOwYnGXdQWNG4OuANie41KuAuVlXkgWtnrnHE4UJQ0JH96JGEtuF-snQ/s400/yves01.jpg" /></a><br />Here's the question. Is it OK to take stuff that your neighbor has put out for the trash? Because one of my neighbors had a Herman Miller knock-off desk chair on his lawn next to his trashcan this morning. I say "had" because it is now in my garage. It was on the grass! Next to the trashcan! You can't tell me he accidentally left it out there when he was ... doing what? What do you do while sitting in a desk chair by the curb next to your trash can? It must have been intended for the trash, right?</p><br />So why did I feel so guilty while hauling it the length of a couple of houses after my morning walk? It's not like I took it out of his garage!<br /><br /><br />Anyway, my barely breathed prayer for a new chair was answered this morning. Now I just have to lower my desk top and put the bar stool back at the breakfast bar where it belongs. Unless you think I should take the chair back and confess.<br /><br /><br />Today I'm trying to plan out the final week of my unintentional sabbatical. I'm starting a three month gig with United Way next week as a loaned executive for their annual giving campaign. Only, obviously, I'm not loaned from any company like most of the loaned executives. Fortunately they have a plan for those of us who are more like freelancers. I'm looking forward to it!<br /><br /><br />But that makes this week the final week of what has turned into a two month time of evaluating my life's work, resting, reading, doing sprint remodels on a few rooms in the house, and annoying the holy heck out of my self-employed husband. I can't be bothering him too much though, since he has been out of town working with clients a lot recently.<br /><br /><br />Wait a minute! Hold the phone! I get it now. Fine mister. You just go off to California and Maryland and Texas. I'll still be here when you get back. And I'm working on a to-do list in my head right now. You can run, but you can't hide!<br /><br /><br />Just kidding about the to-do list. Yes, I am tormented by an eternal to-do list in my head, like a revolving credit account. When you get one thing checked off that just makes room for another entry. But I typically take care of the things on my own list and leave Mark out of it. Typically. But not always. Love you sweetie! <em>*blows kisses*</em><br /><br /><br />Today the list in my head is long, but full of delightful things. Maybe they are delightful because I don't have to do a single one of them. Luxurious!Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-55348221263341590542010-08-19T10:59:00.004-05:002010-08-20T08:51:41.518-05:00Where's Waldo?Cari, Oh Cari<br />Where have you been?<br />I've been to London to see the Queen<br /><br /><br /><br />Cari, Oh Cari<br />What did you there?<br />I frightened a mouse<br />from under her chair<br /><br /><br />OK not really, but I do feel a little like Mother Goose. Or the old woman who lived in a shoe. My motherly duties have brought me great joy and buckets of sweat in the last week. That is why I have been absent from bloggerland and I think it's a pretty darn good excuse. Wow. Someones feeling a little defensive.<br /><br /><br />While I would love to provide you with all kinds of awesome photos, photoshopped to perfection, of my activities of late, I lost my camera a while back and now only have my phone with which to take photos. And although my phone takes photos, it does not want to give them up so that I can share them with you. Turns out I needed to have bought a media card to go in my phone if I wanted to get the pictures out of my phone. One questions why my phone is enabled to take pics if I can neither email them nor download them. But one also questions why the sky is blue, why Joe Biden cannot self-censor, and why cupcakes can't be calorie free.<br /><br />Where have I been?<br /><br /><br />3 days: washing dishes and setting tables with the other mom and alum volunteers at Tessa's sorority during rush week. Which led to the question - why does it take an industrial dishwasher two minutes to wash a load of dishes when it takes the dishwasher in my kitchen a full hour.<br /><br />The girls displayed their smart, beautiful and accomplished selves and did an awesome job on recruitment. I think they are feeling very proud of and excited about their new recruits and have actually now gotten some sleep. We volunteers displayed our servant selves, our sweat pants and T-shirt selves, and were decidedly less beautiful but still had fun bonding in the heat of the kitchen.<br /><br />1 morning: cheering Angela as she competed in the Hillapalooza Sprint Triathlon. Seriously I do not know whose child she is. It just goes to show that no matter how you were raised, you can still be your own individual self. She was definitely not raised to be a triathlete. In this case nature wins out over nurture in the eternal social debate.<br /><br />1 day: volunteering at Angela's new school, putting desks together before opening day. It's tough getting a brand new school all ready! There are a million little details. I'm proud of her ability to roll with it and successfully teach a room full of 5th graders with no textbooks or other resources. Hopefully she will get access to her boxes of teacher stuff this weekend and be fully resourced by Monday.<br /><br />1 day to prepare for and teach the first night of one of the university courses I teach.<br /><br />Somewhere in there I managed to celebrate my 49th birthday. Happy birthday to me. And to my twin sister, Shari.<br /><p>Aaannd now we're back to Friday. I think it might be a lay-by-the-pool day. I'm worn out!<br /></p>Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-28506283636701847852010-08-10T08:00:00.009-05:002010-08-10T09:54:01.196-05:00Weeds<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP1_vJH7zc65tbSC4r-N5smJyV46yoVAe89JPrUjkjSwOb2uo7UuHM7e3o4km9sTyRYVhIK0YqYhgeVOM0vE0SSVq8lla9ujadj0zFbQYse_pp3n9A4oKvRT51i9rYjtHeCTcx5CK-WRI/s1600/elderberry4.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 369px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 329px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503793137736785618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP1_vJH7zc65tbSC4r-N5smJyV46yoVAe89JPrUjkjSwOb2uo7UuHM7e3o4km9sTyRYVhIK0YqYhgeVOM0vE0SSVq8lla9ujadj0zFbQYse_pp3n9A4oKvRT51i9rYjtHeCTcx5CK-WRI/s400/elderberry4.jpg" /></a><br /><div>I was planning to go to Stillwater to help out in the kitchen at Tessa's sorority today. It's rush week and somebody has to fill those water glasses!! But apparently they don't need me until tomorrow, so I have an unexpected free day. So then I was planning to sleep in until a luxurious hour but was rudely awakened by men unloading sheeting for a neighbors new roof. One (boom) sheet of plywood (boom) at a time (boom) dropping from the (boom) high bed of the (boom) truck to the (boom) ground for thirty (boom-freaking) minutes. So much for being decadent. Guess I'll go weed the frighteningly weedy flower bed.<br /><br /><strong>Lessons on Leadership and Life Learned While Weeding the Flower bed.</strong><br /><br />Did I lose you already with that title? Hang on. It'll be fun. Have I ever bored you before? Don't answer that. I'm feeling a little thin-skinned these days.<br /><br />Annnyyway, here's my list, because the brain has to do something while yanking weeds.<br /><br />1) Don't wait until the heat is on<br /><br />Weeding is fun until the sun jumps over the neighbor's house and leers down in all her searing glory. Just a minute ago I was noting the soft breeze and the lack of sweat and feeling all holier-than-thou about being up so early and channeling Martha Stewart when BOOM. The sun is up and the sweat is on.<br /><br />The LLLL? (Lessons on Leadership and Life Learned...gotta love alliteration!)<br />The moment you become conscious of the fact you just patted yourself on the back for being such an awesome manager/parent/person, slather on the sunscreen because the heat is on even though you don't yet feel the burn. That's not being glass-is-half-empty. That's being realistic. To avoid the sweat, take the time while it's cool and calm to proactively pull the weeds. Start early. Or better yet, mulch to avoid the weeds in the first place. Start the day doing the big picture stuff. Then when the sun comes up you'll be safely in the shade drinking your mimosa. Stephen Covey's 7 Habits never go out of style. The first three habits apply here.<br /><br />Habit 1: Be Proactive<br />Habit 2: Begin with the End in Mind<br />Habit 3: Put First Things First<br /><br /><br />Also read: Julie Morgenstern's <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Never-Check-E-Mail-Morning-Unexpected/dp/0743250885">"Never Check Email in the Morning"</a>.<br /><br />2) Don't let the dogs out<br /><br />I'm trying to weed and meditate but Winnie keeps nudging my arm, begging for attention. She's needy this week since we are taking care of the grand-puppy. God forbid four adults should divide our attention between (gasp) two dogs. While not being needy, the dogs are barking at cats, real or imagined. Since I'm weeding under the in-laws bedroom window, I'm trying to shush the dogs with a commanding whisper. Every parent has mastered the whithering look and commanding whisper. Turns out neither is helpful when dealing with dogs. When they aren't barking or pooping, they are walking through the flowerbed. Why did I let the dogs out?<br /><br />The LLLL?<br />Who are the dogs that keep me from doing my thing? Who or, more likely, <em>what</em> is distracting, needy, sabotaging, attention-diverting? Where or when do I waste my time shoveling the s*&t when I could be fertilizing?<br /><br />See:<br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Married-Distraction-Restoring-Strengthening-Interruption/dp/0345507991/ref=sr_1_7?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1281450359&sr=1-7">"Married to Distraction: Restoring Intimacy and Strengthening Your Marriage in an Age of Interruption" </a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Defeating-Demons-Distraction-Strategies-Productivity/dp/059547540X/ref=sr_1_6?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1281450359&sr=1-6">"Defeating the 8 Demons of Distraction: Proven Strategies to Increase Productivity and Decrease Stress"</a></div><br /><div><br />3) "Don't sweat the small stuff" is not always a good plan<br /><br />The sun is up, it's hot, the dogs are needy, I clearly am running out of steam. So what's the plan? I think I'll just try to pull the biggest weeds to make the most obvious difference. I can't see the garden for the trees. No really. Those annoying starter trees that grow from little seed pods blown by the Oklahoma wind? Everywhere. But I am apparently constitutionally unable to pull the big stuff and ignore the smaller weeds choking the flowers. I want for at least a small portion of the garden to be weed free and beautiful. My mantra "just pull the big ones, just pull the big ones" is not working. I HAVE to go back and pull ALL the weeds in that section before moving on.<br /><br />The LLLL?<br />Sometimes it's OK to focus on the minutia at the (temporary) expense of the big picture. Some wise person once said it's better to do a few things well than a bunch of stuff half-assed. Err, something like that. In a perfect world we would have time to do all things well. But this is definitely an imperfect world. And "things" have multiplied exponentially. So I'm thinking I'm gonna have to narrow it down, pick a few, focus. And what about those towering distractions? They'll die off on their own, I suppose. Even if I have to ignore them until the first frost. </div>Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-26232803882860924272010-08-05T09:30:00.006-05:002010-08-05T10:42:40.052-05:00In which I pretend I'm a celebrity bloggerSo yesterday I was in New York doing a photo shoot for a major magazine when I happened to run into Gwyneth Paltrow. I was all, hey guuurlfriend, remember me?<br /><br />Oh wait, that's <a href="http://www.dooce.com/">another blog</a>.<br /><br />But really, I'm so thrilled to have the opportunity to be in New York with my studly husband, just hanging out and getting the chance to cook one of my favorite recipes on the Today Show. Again.<br /><br />Mmm, yeah. <a href="http://www.thepioneerwoman.com/">Another blog </a>all together.<br /><br />Really I got nothin'. Nothing exciting to share with you to demonstrate my crazy life as a celebrity blogger. I am at this moment watching another rerun of Ellen, babysitting my niece's sweet baby, Rylan, while her mama is at work, dog sitting my grand puppy while Angela and Riley are lounging beside a rushing river in Durango, Colorado. Cool, cool Colorado. Later I'll remind my precious mother-in-law that yes, the dentist did say to actually wear her new dentures. That he did not, in fact, tell her she should take them in and out frequently.<br /><br />Her dementia is worsening rapidly and it's scary and sad and frustrating all at once. It's enough to break your heart<br /><br />Hey, I just discovered something really awesome. First let me tell you that we have this closet off of our bedroom that has just been the gathering place for all our junk that we were too lazy to find a proper home for. For which we were too lazy to find a proper home. Is that grammatically correct? So I needed a computer since I'm home all the time and wanting a place of my own. We recently fixed up our spare room into an office space and Mark has taken it as his. He has been working from home for about a year, he's easily distracted, and I'm happy for him to have his own space. I'd really prefer he have a man cave somewhere, but I'm happy he has taken that room as his own.<br /><br />So back to the closet. We emptied it out, painted it and made it a tiny little office and I LOVE IT! Lu-hu-ve it! If I hadn't lost my camera I'd take a picture for you. It's so cute and everything is within easy reach. I bought one of those all-in-one computers where all you do is bring it home, take it out of the box and plug it in. So cool.<br /><br />BUT! But! It's not a laptop and I can't sit on the comfy leather love seat and watch TV while I use it. So finally I'm getting to the really awesome thing I just discovered. I just figure out that I can use the remote keyboard FROM THE LOVE SEAT!!! How cool is that?! I can't really SEE what I'm typing, so I'll have to go back and do some major editing before I post this. But isn't that cool!<br /><br />OK, come on. You gotta give me this one. It's probably the most exciting thing that will happen to me today. We can't all be glamorous, celebrity bloggers!Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-43337562529239829082010-08-03T13:43:00.005-05:002010-08-03T14:47:19.046-05:00Happiness is subjectiveHow happy are you? Dr. Oz wants to know. You know who he is, right? The doctor dude that shows up on Oprah occasionally and talks about poop and ingrown toenails and other inappropriate topics. The one who doesn't wear a t-shirt under his scrubs. Sorry, that's a personal preference but it really annoys me when a guy is walking around in a v-neck scrub top without a t-shirt under it.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501260268770982290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5wX7R0IsjbfL95xPadSsRAKuB4ZtZA_pELNkRleoE6ULFDJvXlSP7v1Bh0LAhyphenhyphenaSf0PxTCQgYsIAPE9gnnKWg7LqX8XVzi-im_OR1jkk5869hkmITHChfCBpwUB85eZa98QqR7cAsU6U/s400/tshirtscrubs.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501260163946122898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK2qwmHejdcvlxr_NL0_Ckfvm1HL9F90hwVAjR2kdrz9lWt0S-PHPN8F_1JmZvefAZt5v1FmQ_BGOqtaAUrp2MS1ykeTeTSE8Dcvg25dHZeUnFWgJ2hcX6oV_akmKxKRm1Mj5ow2-VbW0/s400/notshirtscurbs.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><p></p><p>OK so back to happiness. How happy are you? <a href="http://www.doctoroz.com/">Dr. Oz </a>has a couple of handy little tools to help you assess your happiness, in case the thought that you might be low on the happiness scale is keeping you up at night. Here's a sample question. You are supposed to select the number on the scale that represents your level of happiness on the <a href="http://www.doctoroz.com/videos/subjective-happiness-scale">"Subjective Happiness Scale"</a>...</p><blockquote><p><span style="color:#00cccc;">1. In general, I consider myself (circle one):<br /><br />Not a very happy person -- 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 -- A very happy person </span></p></blockquote><blockquote></blockquote><p>Hmmm. I need my happiness scale to be a little more defined. Something like...</p><p><span style="color:#ff6600;">1. In general, I consider myself (circle one):</span></p><p><span style="color:#ff6600;">ecstatic jubilant joyful convivial cheerful perky chipper pleasant upbeat optimistic realistic disagreeable fretter bellyacher malcontent pessimistic surly curmudgeonly miserable morose<br /></span></p><p>There - now you have so many more options that are far more descriptive. Dr. Oz suggests starting out his 28 day plan for happiness by spending the first week journaling about the occurrences, people or situations that make you happiest and then, well, do more of those things.</p><p>Personally I prefer to be like the Danes. Denmark is the<a href="http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2008/02/14/60minutes/main3833797.shtml?tag=dsGoogleModule"> happiest place on earth</a>, according to an annual survey by Leicester University in England. The USA ranks a pessimistic 23rd. But why are the Danish so happy? It's cold there and it's really tiny! Survey says...the good folks from Denmark are happier because they have low expectations. Yep, they figure things will turn out badly and when things turn out well, they are delighted by the positive turn of events. </p><p>Sounds like a good plan to me. But as a backup plan, I guess I'll go make a list of things that make me happy and try to put more of those things into my day. Couldn't hurt.</p>Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-59993629520361079482010-07-30T07:58:00.004-05:002010-07-30T08:28:14.751-05:00T.G.I.F.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 394px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499686037201203250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghrfvLB4XwEGOmA-BaPLquEJXY3qnaVrED_GInWyjq5-tZZ-hNSZceE6zowb8m8Dg5YXH4rY0XWrTVIpsLnAmOo7pMDW4FdVu6eCwd2O94-Fu5F_319gixXi1a6sBlorADVmip4VXOg38/s400/graph.png" />Thank God it's Friday! For that matter, thank God it was Tuesday or Wednesday. Every day is a Friday around here. It's been a busy week, what with all the HGTV to watch. Ok, don't get all sanctimonious on me. I have actually been looking for meaningful employment. I've also enjoyed taking time to breathe deeply, to spend time with Angela while she has some time off before heading back to the classroom full of 5th graders, to organize my personal files, to play, to pray, to read. Even though I'm home every day right now, there's still a special feeling about Fridays. I'm going to enjoy this one and make the most of another day of choices. Have a great weekend!Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-6539273646880017902010-07-28T08:16:00.003-05:002010-07-28T08:48:17.796-05:00Job Schmob...who needs oneI can finally feel myself breaking through the post-job-loss fog. I'm greeting each new day with a bit of anticipation instead of wondering what the H.E.Doubletoothpick just happened. In fact, I could get used to this. So many hours for being crafty, reading favorite blogs, creating websites . Too much fun. I wonder if people ever actually make money on their etsy shops. I spent hours out in the sweltering garage yesterday making artwork for Angela's classroom interspersed with hours of creating things in Photoshop, Flash and InDesign. And yes, I did a little job searching too. Even had a phone interview. Go me.<br /><br />It's the creative stuff that puts me in the energy-gain area, as opposed to energy-drain activities like waiting on hold with the unemployment office for hours. I could create all day, but when I've finished a project I feel a little like I did back in first grade bringing home that little clay bowl and presenting it proudly to my mother. I thought it looked amazing and my mother, God bless her, proudly displayed the misshapen thing. But I know that the only beauty in it was the inherent beauty of anything crafted by a child's small hands. Certainly there was no commercial beauty.<br /><br />Truthfully, something has value only because someone has assigned value to it. But who gets to choose what is valuable and what is not? Who decides what beauty is or is not? Think of Crocs for example. Truly any value they possess is in the eyes of the beholder!<br /><br />I'm going to think on this today...the true value of activities or things. Which comes first - the value or the beauty? Hmmm.<br /><br /><blockquote><em>"We do not act rightly because we have virtue or excellence, but we rather have those because we have acted rightly" Aristotle</em> </blockquote>Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-55820208272571633492010-07-26T11:01:00.004-05:002010-07-26T12:17:06.596-05:00Feelin' GroovyWhat is that noise? I don't recognize it. Wait. It seems familiar in a hazy, I've heard that somewhere before but I can't place it sort of way. Reaching back into the hidden compartments of the middle-aged woman's brain...almost have it...there it is! That sound is <div><div></div><br /><div>SILENCE!</div><br /><div></div><div>Tessa has gone back to her college town, Mark is working at a client's office, the in-laws haven't emerged from their room yet. Silence. Blessed, glorious sound of silence. Ahhh.</div><div></div><br /><div>The Sound of Silence. Great, now I have Simon & Garfunkle lyrics stuck in my head. "Hello darkness my old friend. I've come to talk to you again." I once knew the words to every song on the Simon & Garfunkle's Greatest Hits album.</div><br /><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg93qv901HDNJTiwtATxyqBvrvz616_lfz-Z2QPWV_LlysnNz9nbg898oFqmhHwz6My5ofWxn76qMrvjyXTG8F7gr1E0cPsHnhUhyphenhyphen5vSHIiEFpPgqJhmT2BX9Q3BuTxYyozAbXDBhPc7ZQ/s1600/Sggreatesthits.jpg"></a><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 393px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498264634950348914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0G3ApHHlpp1UATvPH9VTmv6nwyXKy4KhuhVfrTUPbGcuCZrKVfMzmC2BeOFtGqthxMy7ak8uq68KQFP5grlJgPPWlHMtzalBJ6CTvRSFy8AQt7uTHBUcRkqH9tkmgwfb84jb3OypFCuk/s400/Simon_and_Garfunkel-Greatest.jpg" /><br /><div></div><div>"And here's to you Mrs. Robinson, Jesus loves you more than you will know...Wowowo"</div><div></div><br /><div>"I am a rock, I am an i-iii-land. And a rock feels no pain. And an island never cries"</div><br /><div></div><div>Rocks, islands, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. Why did we love these songs so much? Maybe because the tunes were catchy and the lyrics easy to understand? All I know is that when I'm old and senile I'll still be able to bust out a chorus of "Feelin' Groovy". </div><div></div><br /><div>Funny how a time or place or feeling can be conjured up by a song. I can see it now. All of us Generation Jonesers in the assisted living facility calling down the spirits of our youth. We'll be gathered around the pajama-clad dude - the one who managed to salvage an old guitar from the yard sale the day all of his worldly goods were spread out on the lawn to be sold to strangers with pockets full of rumpled dollar bills. He can still remember the chords and we all join in. "Like a bridge over troubled waters, I will lay me down". Then we move on to Elton John with a little "Rocket Man" as we rock in our chairs, nod knowingly, and sing "I think it's gonna be a long, long time".</div><div></div></div>Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-61422171958627226372010-07-23T07:38:00.008-05:002010-07-23T08:32:32.711-05:00Yawn...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid5KBvK_ZfCFq6ht4LOBFLCWkFU2MH_Y9gqmFQsCt0EihIC9vkuF3IF0V6y-TMFKvevBgni59cxpOprGRbw6Ek5amhJs8Uk-V-eUip-KsXsFIqpWNqsZUvGqtEBlOJae0ZGgN7Uf0HpJo/s1600/ennui2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497086874890724530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid5KBvK_ZfCFq6ht4LOBFLCWkFU2MH_Y9gqmFQsCt0EihIC9vkuF3IF0V6y-TMFKvevBgni59cxpOprGRbw6Ek5amhJs8Uk-V-eUip-KsXsFIqpWNqsZUvGqtEBlOJae0ZGgN7Uf0HpJo/s400/ennui2.jpg" /></a> Did you happen to see the above definition on <a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/homeschooling/2010/07/word-of-the-day-3/#comments">The Pioneer Woman's </a>blog? I've always liked that word. Ahn-wee. When I read it I realized - that's what it is! That's the feeling that has overpowered me in the last few weeks - which were, of course, the first few weeks of unemployment. It's that feeling of meh, whatever, not really interested. It's episodes of staring into space for long periods of time. A general malaise. A fog. Listlessness. Languor. I suppose it could be the searing July heat. Or possibly the muscle relaxers my doctor prescribed for the relentless back pain. Ohhhh, now I get it!<br /><br /><div><br /><div align="left"></div>I mean, it's not like I'm just sitting on my couch picking stray dog hairs off my stretchy pants <em><strong>all </strong></em>day long. I've been sending out those resumes and even had an interview. I've volunteered with my sister on behalf of the <a href="http://www.whistlingwind.org/">nonprofit</a> we formed together. This summer we are providing recreation at the <a href="http://www.wingsok.org/">WINGS</a> summer camp for young adults with developmental disabilities. Those young folks can really get their dance on! </div><br /><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 116px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497086475888101314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHteguh-hjO5NZCPMBMDf21xgljmMLHdgGqQsAP6AuDrkiQ5XVzUBM21vQeOutGjgQCIDbUdOS7Aw_HRbF-rMZhSoTqWTsmClwXMLJ7y7kE1vpzIZxXzzs1GK1LtU_85VICfC7EiH0bNU/s400/dancingatcamp.png" /><br />I've created and tweaked a few websites. I've actually been to the gym. The living room has been repainted. I've waited on hold with the unemployment office for hours and given my medical history in great detail to the insurance company so we can get some coverage after mine goes away at the end of the month. I've harvested veggies from my first-time-I-ever-planted-one garden. I've sorted through digital photos I'd forgotten I had. Remember this?<br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGbi0UsIjHXNNYY5qZwIAl_-Y3vOmhqZMzKeWfWF5jS9LLiVaZX0oRRAKvc1AdZZFCXHQ3LV5p8wz2g9TutgZxNWJg1aV6TpOXW4rJvm1Y3Oq3iMObDmrfnE0knhXk6iULSqNggSMEXZM/s1600/IMG_1141.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497089880649726866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGbi0UsIjHXNNYY5qZwIAl_-Y3vOmhqZMzKeWfWF5jS9LLiVaZX0oRRAKvc1AdZZFCXHQ3LV5p8wz2g9TutgZxNWJg1aV6TpOXW4rJvm1Y3Oq3iMObDmrfnE0knhXk6iULSqNggSMEXZM/s400/IMG_1141.JPG" /></a> That's son-in-law Riley using his Okie ice scraper. Put down the credit card and go find a real ice scraper!!</p><p>OK, after reading the above I guess I'm feeling a little better about the things that have occupied the last few weeks. Hopefully the malaise will lift and meaningful employment will come in good time. But right now I think I'll go take a nap because I CAN!</p>Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-80970259615510096432010-07-17T14:52:00.009-05:002010-07-17T16:03:27.769-05:00Once a mom, always a mom... I just can't help it!<div align="left"> </div><div align="left">It's that time of year when mothers everywhere, or at least in North America, start dragging themselves out of the summertime lethargy that hit back in March and begin thinking of back-to-school shopping. Now days schools post classroom supply lists on their websites. When I was a kid we just bought the standard lined notebook paper or Big Chief tablet, pencils, erasers, scissors, paste, maybe a new ruler and one of those little zip bags to put the pencils and erasers in. In High School we bought Trapper Keepers to keep all our stuff organized. That typically lasted about one week.<br /></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;">From <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/briankusler/4519605551/">http://www.flickr.com/photos/briankusler/4519605551/</a></span></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">"Overheard today:'The iPad is just a Trapper Keeper for adults!' "</div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494969512000877058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjedL5fBasGddK37D83YKDOZX7xFKj5JkW6NGvaibcAdjMesYBToXnEJNgeBddc8CuAYIWJY2ZgHLqf0KO1wIIW_32mv1L-_mCweY0TFm7enpGOuRVNqGnqtsVCzEA6h-xneVht2FvIMqw/s400/trapperkeeper.jpg" /> <div align="left">These days I don't have to fight the other mothers at Walmart for school supplies. But I've been busy the last few days shopping for "back-to-school". Yesterday Tessa and I accomplished a feat thought impossible - we bought all the necessary clothing, shoes and accessories for sorority recruitment week in one afternoon. Since Tessa is now a senior, it was the last such shopping trip and we are quite proud to go out with a record-breaking day. (Note to self: Remember to sign up to help in the sorority house kitchen during rush!)</div><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">And then there's the elder daughter...With a teacher for a daughter, back-to-school shopping springs eternal. I'm pretty sure Angela still has enough tissues, glue and anti-bacterial wipes to supply the entire 5th grade. I did pull the mom card when H1N1 was a daily presence in the news last fall and lecture her on how the anti-bacterial wipes and hand-gel were doing no one any good shut into her classroom cabinet. So maybe take the wipes off the list.</div><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">Is it weird that I enjoy helping her set up and decorate her classroom? Maybe it's that latent teacher in me from my days of playing school in Susan's basement. These days I love going into the teacher's work room and playing with the little machine that cuts letters and shapes. Angela's not a big bulletin board fan so I'm all "pick me, pick me" when it comes time to set those up. (Those over-eager kids were always so annoying!)</div><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">This year we are dreaming up fun artwork to go on the virgin walls of her brand new classroom in the shiny new school where she will be teaching. Left to my own devices I'd furnish a whole little reading corner, complete with a kid-sized sofa and beanbags galore. But since that's not in the budget, I contented myself with shopping Goodwill for used books with cool artwork for the mixed-media creation we're planning.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><br /><br />Now I'm feeling nostalgic and thinking I might have to dig out some "first day of school" photos. Or go smell some freshly-sharpened pencils. Or maybe go open a fresh box of crayons.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494982226545708690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik7KZit-nvPTh735M_eGOr4NJQ54I6-BkVtuzhxgdDCMUSFSmy8zbn_t54Y4D_yJDPsBImB3ZvVrFdxMsBzv2SGAZlslX2fDUzDJNdINiOSvAY_B1j3t3STesmERFgHtGwnONdF0WA9qM/s400/crayonssssss.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/akacreativity/634022438/"><span style="font-size:78%;">http://www.flickr.com/photos/akacreativity/634022438/</span></a></p>Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-33200407900586471872010-07-14T06:47:00.005-05:002010-07-14T07:43:17.847-05:00SKUNK!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixnaRufP-lJRE6SvZrGZ3SQh6ygFyFcT6uGdP9AfnIcqelsRm7ohyK_LWxGHAvmNNrP0GK2YCFOD5VLnRoO8TwRxlOT4pi2dekOfx39wbHDGQZtFTEODne85fR4ironf3cQFlXbtuq9kA/s1600/610_skunk_pets.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 203px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493741009572415314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixnaRufP-lJRE6SvZrGZ3SQh6ygFyFcT6uGdP9AfnIcqelsRm7ohyK_LWxGHAvmNNrP0GK2YCFOD5VLnRoO8TwRxlOT4pi2dekOfx39wbHDGQZtFTEODne85fR4ironf3cQFlXbtuq9kA/s400/610_skunk_pets.jpg" /></a> <div align="left"><span style="font-size:78%;">photo from http://www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/episodes/is-that-skunk/do-skunks-make-good-pets/4569/</span><br /><br />Just me and the skunk this morning, hanging out on the patio. I've been wondering why Winnie (the dog) is so interested in our garden shed lately! Now I know. A cute little kitty with a white stripe down her back has made her home behind said shed.<br /><br />Yesterday I called animal control to arrange for a little help. The man who answered the phone informed me that skunks were wild animals. Um, yes sir. Yes they are. You have indeed put your finger on the reason for my call.<br /><br />The city animal control does not, apparently, control wild animals in the city. Domesticated - yes. Wild - no.<br /><br />I then called someone advertising themselves as an outfit that could help me with my potentially odorific problem. They prefer enticing the skunk out of its home, then once it's gone, filling in the hole and skunk-proofing the property. For a mere $300, ma'am. Or, if I just want to get rid of the skunk (insert disapproving tone) he could put me in contact with Trapper Dave.<br /><br />So right now we still hold our collective breath every time we let the dog out into the yard. I'm a little less enthusiastic about wandering out to my garden at dawn to pick my beautiful tomatoes. Speaking of tomatoes, I read that the use of tomato juice after being sprayed by a skunk is not all that helpful. <a href="http://www.totalwildlifecontrol.com/remove-skunk-smell-odor.html">The Skunk Whisperer</a> recommends a mixture of hydrogen peroxide, baking soda and liquid dish soap. Maybe I should assemble an emergency kit just in case.<br /><br />I'm sure I could draw some life lesson from all of the above for your/my edification... something about keeping the mental and spiritual fences mended, not allowing pesky thoughts and attitudes to burrow in your head - making them that much harder to get rid of, calling in an expert when needed...<br /><br />Nah. I'll leave that up to you. Although I would be interested in knowing what your "emergency kit" is for keeping the unwanted and potentially malodorous attitudes out of your life.<br /><br />While you're contemplating these deep thoughts, you can watch an episode of <a href="http://www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/episodes/is-that-skunk/introduction/4514/">Nature- "Is That Skunk?"</a> Interesting!! </div>Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-85728730931759615772010-07-12T07:24:00.005-05:002010-07-12T08:16:37.912-05:00Weekends and family<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbPcP7Q6zWM6pk4YTwKgD3Cqge2etrmoErG8cyoQrryDqakrcLJ5EC4sB5gKh30s1-tipOa2rPepnj6jcZd-s6qo2-xZ19E6u5oW_BibolqiMKYCMiHvlDrnUIQvdFktH8lh9LwlKWKk0/s1600/vuvuzela.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 275px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493007323270809778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbPcP7Q6zWM6pk4YTwKgD3Cqge2etrmoErG8cyoQrryDqakrcLJ5EC4sB5gKh30s1-tipOa2rPepnj6jcZd-s6qo2-xZ19E6u5oW_BibolqiMKYCMiHvlDrnUIQvdFktH8lh9LwlKWKk0/s400/vuvuzela.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-size:78%;">Photo: Reuters.com</span></div><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /><br /></span>Without a job to organize my week, I've been a little confused about what day it is. I believe this is Monday, which means I had a really great weekend, since that would make yesterday Sunday and the day before that Saturday. Brilliant reasoning, I know.<br /><br />Family is what made the weekend special. My dad came in from Colorado and my aunt and uncle from Kansas to celebrate the 100th anniversary of Bethany Schools. Mom hosted about 30 ladies at her house for a reunion luncheon. They were all so cute! And noisy!!! Put 30 women in a room, some who haven't seen each other for 50 years, and the noise level rivals a stadium full of vuvuzelas.<br /><br />I have that word - <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vuvuzela">vuvuzela</a> - stuck in my head. There is something about it that just rolls off the tongue. Kind of like Bafana Bafana, South Africa's national football (soccer) team. Just hearing Bafana Bafana catapults me back to the year we lived in Johannesburg. While living there I never once, however, encountered a vuvuzela. Plenty of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ululation">ululation</a>, but no vuvuzelas. I love <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Onomatopoeia">onomatopoetic</a> words almost as much as I love a good <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palindrome">palindrome.</a><br /><br />Anyway, before I got distracted by "fun with words" I was talking about family. I'm grateful that we are continuing to gather in Oklahoma. Niece Cori is in town to interview for a job that would bring her into the circle of cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents that are slowly assembling here. Her friends in Colorado purportedly can't understand why she would want to live in this state. After living many, many place, I can tell them why it's a good place to live. It's a good place to live because that's where family is. End of story.Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-37835160431294261642010-07-08T06:34:00.004-05:002010-07-08T07:19:35.178-05:00If they can put a man on the moon...I spent yesterday messing around with computers and realized they are a lot like goats. They will eat any garbage fed to them, have a strong tendency towards orneriness, and they don't like to be pushed. Goats also urinate on themselves to impress a potential mate, but that doesn't really translate to the computer comparison. It's just disgusting.<br /><br />You buy a computer and it's all shiny and new and super cooperative. But after what seems like a ridiculously short time it starts to slow down and exhibit anti-social behavior. I'm pretty sure that defrag thing you are supposed to do to clean up files makes the operator feel like she is accomplishing something but has little real value. There is one area where goats and computers differ, however. Unlike a goat's lifespan of about 15 years, a computer can be expected to last approximately three years if it's never connected to the Internet and rarely sees the light of day.<br /><br />If we can put a man on the moon, why can't we create a computer that is more resilient, longer lasting and cooperative?<br /><br />People my age love to say "if we can put a man on the moon, why can't we fix *insert annoying problem*. In 1969 we sat in front of our black and white televisions and stared transfixed as men actually did walk on the moon - a feat so impressive and unfathomable that it became the symbol for the impossible made possible.<br /><br />What recent event has been so impressive, so paradigm shifting, that it will be used as a benchmark for generations to come? I'll have to think about that one.<br /><br />In the mean time, jump over to one of my favorite <a href="http://www.jenx67.com/2010/07/generation-jones-mixed-messages.html">Generation X blogs</a> where I'm a guest contributor today.Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-17883840637261953372010-07-06T09:19:00.012-05:002010-07-07T08:57:17.611-05:00I wish I hadn't just watched iRobot!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6UWUQJOacvU3OPpUtfUWd9hEIbTP-igpA42B2OAplz3VC169tRTP9gHYmH9RhzV0Sa9IbsxHIKsDyW0cQC2Pael2rtthhhJnuYi3GpJKyZLOzypRVUaZVlwpdq534fE3cdM7nJi8PVV8/s1600/alg_jean-stevens.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490827762316568290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6UWUQJOacvU3OPpUtfUWd9hEIbTP-igpA42B2OAplz3VC169tRTP9gHYmH9RhzV0Sa9IbsxHIKsDyW0cQC2Pael2rtthhhJnuYi3GpJKyZLOzypRVUaZVlwpdq534fE3cdM7nJi8PVV8/s400/alg_jean-stevens.jpg" /></a> <div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;">photo: nydn.org</div><blockquote></blockquote></span><div>Did you see the <a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/2010/07/06/2010-07-06_pennsylvania_widow_jean_stevens_91_lived_with_corpses_of_husband_twin.html">story </a>about the 90-something woman who exhumed her dead husband and dead twin sister, propped them on separate couches in her tidy little home, and enjoyed little chats about her day while drinking tea? I made up the tea part. She's more of a vodka tonic kinda gal. OK, I made that part up too. I did NOT make up the dead people part.<br /><br />The article didn't say whether Miss Jean had any children or church members to check up on her, although there apparently were neighbors who helped out. The investigators determined she was mentally healthy - except for the whole "I see dead people" thing.<br /><br />The population of elderly folks is predicted to double before 2050, with most of the growth occurring between 2010 and 2030 when our Baby Boomer parents reach their elder years. These aging parents will need support and care from adult children. There's something called the parent-support ratio that I found...um...interesting. The ratio is predicted to be almost 3.5 "kids" aged 50-64 to care for every one parent over age 85. Of those elders over age 85 who are not "institutionalized", 50% need assistance with ordinary, everyday activities like bathing, cooking and getting around the home. </div><div><br />I think isolation is one of the biggest dangers for our elders. There is no substitute for face-to-face contact to help with the inevitable loneliness of living alone or to evaluate mental, spiritual and physical health. All I can say is, we're going to need some help!<br /><br /><br /><br /><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hmtHBEU8lrk&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xd0d0d0&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hmtHBEU8lrk&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xd0d0d0&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="440" height="285"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Statistics from http://www.census.gov/apsd/www/statbrief/sb95_8.pdf<br /></div></span></div>Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-85546140058937325752010-07-04T08:34:00.007-05:002010-07-04T09:41:02.137-05:00Vive la différence!<div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHr3dVt8rpmVI4HJG3gwhyphenhyphenBJ-_BO02-36X4FA2AZPDW5txoeLdiZj-0toSKCva9xtERXDjpLYbFLzdYfXc0VysVydz3fqQhbIC4C17w0alRKR4Ams883V97UfAw6Q6W9YBcokKQgE7vgA/s1600/daily+oklahoman.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 265px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490059493838438162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHr3dVt8rpmVI4HJG3gwhyphenhyphenBJ-_BO02-36X4FA2AZPDW5txoeLdiZj-0toSKCva9xtERXDjpLYbFLzdYfXc0VysVydz3fqQhbIC4C17w0alRKR4Ams883V97UfAw6Q6W9YBcokKQgE7vgA/s400/daily+oklahoman.jpg" /></a> <div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em><span style="font-size:78%;">Photo from newsok.com</span> - <a href="http://newsok.com/oklahomans-celebrate-independence/multimedia/photos/gallery/3473520/1/"><span style="font-size:78%;">http://newsok.com/oklahomans-celebrate-independence/multimedia/photos/gallery/3473520/1/</span></a></em><br /></span><br />I have apparently taken on the roll of family event organizer, although it's a little like herding cats. Sometimes you just have to give up polling the masses, pick a place and time, and see who shows up. This July 4th has lived up to the herding challenge, and not just because of the usual need to take into account everyone's preferences and schedules.<br /><br />First there's the Bible Belt challenge. Every time a major holiday falls on a Sunday, town councils get busy rearranging the corresponding events. I can see moving the 10:00 a.m. parade away from the Sabbath. Few will choose parade attending or marching over worshiping. One would not want to miss the patriotic medley carefully prepared by the music minister and choir. But was it necessary to reschedule the fireworks?<br /><br />Then there's the weather challenge. Yesterday parades all over the city were rudely interrupted by an absolute downpour, sending teenage beauty queens and tuba players scrambling for shelter. Today promises more of the same, with sunshine mixed with drenching rain making it difficult to plan. Dear invited guests - please bring your swimsuit and rain poncho along with your covered dish.<br /><br />Just when I think I have it all organized, plans start changing. That plan for family members to join <a href="http://www.okckayak.com/">OKC Kayaks</a> on their social paddle down the Oklahoma River to view the fireworks in Bricktown? Canceled due to predicted bad weather. Why do I hear fireworks at 10:00 on Saturday night? Because Bethany is holding their fireworks display on July 3rd. I really need to read the paper. Do they print these things or are we just supposed to intuitively know it.<br /><br />And then there are the personal preferences. I have a phobia about loud noises so if we watch fireworks, I'll be wearing noise-deadening headphones. I am a closet pyromaniac and will be spending a month's wages on things that go boom and need a place to blow stuff up. I (temporarily) don't have any teeth so I don't want to go out in public. I don't like being outside where there are bugs. I prefer to be outside participating in extreme sports. I don't like large crowds. It's exhausting!!<br /><br />Come to think of it, I guess that's what this holiday is all about -celebrating living in a country where you can freely do as you choose. Today we'll celebrate the family diversity and celebrate the freedom. God bless America and pass the hot dogs. Or brisket. Or veggie burgers.<br /><br /><br /></div><blockquote>"You have to love a nation that celebrates its independence every July 4, not with a parade of guns, tanks, and soldiers who file by the White House in a show of strength and muscle, but with family picnics where kids throw Frisbees, the potato salad gets iffy, and the flies die from happiness. You may think you have overeaten, but it is patriotism." - Erma Bombeck</blockquote></div>Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-81633237748431916332010-07-02T09:30:00.003-05:002010-07-02T09:52:19.175-05:00Today is the first day of...yada yada yadaDay two of unemployment. And no, I'm not planning to give you a rundown of each and every day as they begin to blend together in a never-ending series of "what do I do now". Today I woke up super anxious. That aching, nervous feeling in my belly greeted me about the time the sun came up. And considering we're only days on the other side of the summer solstice, the sun appears very, very early. Well, not as early as it does in say, Minsk, but early enough.<br /><br />It's sort of a nameless, panicky nervous. I mean, I have no responsibilities whatsoever. What could I possibly be all jittery about. Oh yeah, the mortgage, the car payments, one more year of college. We were doing so well on our plan to be relatively debt free with two college-educated offspring by this time next year. God, please don't let that plan go down the toilet.<br /><br />Good think God listens to disjointed shout outs. Because right now I have the attention span of my grandpuppy, and that's not very impressive.<br /><br />I need to go downstairs and help my precious mother-in-law get ready to go to the dentist. We're down ten teeth from a month ago. Those suckers just keep breaking off. No sooner do we settle on a treatment plan with the dentist and another couple teeth bite the dust. Or a cracker. Or a peanut. It doesn't seem to take much.<br /><br />Because we're also dealing with deepening dementia (not me - her. But wait a month...) it has been difficult to coax her to the dentist or even keep her partials in her mouth. I'm hoping today we can find something that works for her. One can only eat so much applesauce and cottage cheese!<br /><br />And yes, it's a rare blogger who can find a way to work cottage cheese into a blog post.Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3831714806289449760.post-9330367978141214872010-07-01T13:52:00.002-05:002010-07-01T14:25:06.236-05:00This could be a very good thing. Or this could suck big time.Hello my BFFs. After a couple of months of craziness at work, dealing with funding cuts and budget cuts, I find myself suddenly and unexpectedly unemployed. So I'm all yours, my Internet buddies. We'll spend leisurely afternoons exploring scintillating topics. What? You have a job? Oh yeah - that thing I had yesterday.<br /><br />I'm hoping the pain in my back and the stiffness between my shoulder blades and the irritable bowel eases now. I've been trying to figure out how to lessen the stress. Remember how I talked about needing a sabbatical? Handed to me on a platter.<br /><br />Suddenly the long list of things I wanted to do has shortened to don't cry, don't cry and don't cry. Oh, and don't wallow in self pity. I'm sure in a day or two the other things on that list will come back to populate my stunned brain. But for today, my major task is to read all the magazines that have piled up on the table beside my bed, and to alternate between heat and ice packs to soothe the back. If only there was an icepack to soothe the bruised ego.Carihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04715945419968954583noreply@blogger.com4