Halloween
I didn't really. I was a history major, then a history teacher. I went through the whole scenario of All Hallows Evening, All Saint's Day, Martin Luther and his posting of the 95 Theses, etc, etc, etc...
I get the historical and religious significance of the day...just not why we have turned it into its modern day sugar extravaganza.
Don't get me wrong.... I love chocolate and high fructose corn syrup just as much as the next mini-van driving mom....second only to pumpkin spiced lattes as my favorite thing about autumn. I just have a few issues about the process of how we obtain said corn syrup at the end of this month.
The following is a short synopsis for the current cultural method of candy re-distribution.
1) Go to the store in AUGUST and buy $200 worth of candy wrapped in special fall colored cellophane. Hide the stash from yourself so it will still be there in October.
2) Decorate your front lawn with inflatable vampires, bats and Frankenstein monsters. You know...to make your home look warm and inviting.
3) Search high and low to find the perfect costumes for your children that ......
a)EVERY other child their age will also be wearing .....and....
b) will be covered up by their winter jacket anyway ....and....
c) much like your wedding dress....will cost too much money and is only worn once.
4) Spend most of your child's young life telling them about "Stranger Danger" but then on Oct. 31 undo all that good parenting by:
a) sending them out after dark on a school night
b) wearing masks and dark clothing (covered by their winter jackets)
c) going straight up to the strangers' houses
d) demanding candy
While you try to find what is left of your stash purchased in August to hand out to the other neighborhood hoodlums.
Then try to explain to your child that all candy-bearing strangers automatically turn back into federal criminals on Nov. 1....only to be given a reprieve the month of December if they agree to wear a red and white suit.....but I digress.....
5) Spend the next 20 days trying to "ration" the $20 worth of candy they brought home in order to avoid the sugar crankies. (and hope they don't notice how many pieces they started with.....)
After calculating the cost of the candy, costumes, vampires, dentist bills and new elastic waisted yoga pants for mom, decide to do the following next year:
Take that $200 and load a gift card to your favorite pumpkin spice latte carrying coffee shop, let your kids stay home and cry about how mean you are, and take all the other moms in the neighborhood out for coffee on Oct. 31
Then just tell everyone: "Hey, sorry. I must have missed the class on that Halloween thing, but have you ever tried whipped cream and cinnamon sprinkles on those lattes?" ;)
Monday, October 1, 2012
Monday, September 10, 2012
Sept. 11
This is a hard one to write, and I didn't even have family in the impacted areas 11 years ago.
I remember watching a morning show with breaking news and a camera shot of the New York City skyline. One of the towers had smoke billowing out of it.
Then the surreal moment as we all watched a second plane hit the second tower.
Live.
As I stood in my living room.
Then the Pentagon.
Then a field in PA.
Watching the first responders going up the stairs of the World Trade Center buildings, and wondering how many would be coming back down.
All too soon getting the awful answer to that question.
Shock. Horror. Disbelief. Anger.....lots of anger...
Phone calls to and from loved ones, checking in, checking up on each other.
Silence in the sky as United States airspace is closed to all commercial traffic.
Wondering if it was really over, or if there was more yet to come.
Eleven years later and I still have a hard time watching those clips, seeing the interviews, hearing a song that mentions the day. I still cry. Still cringe at that date on the calendar. The emotions are less intense now, mostly replaced with a deep, lingering, sense of sadness. And questions. How does one mourn as an individual, and as part of a country when the event is already just a paragraph in history books? How does a people and a country recover enough to rebuild and continue on?
We look back to history and to the memories of those who have recovered from other cataclysmic events. We see their resolve and determination to not let evil acts have the last say in their lives. We see their faith and belief in a God who is holy and just and perfect, merciful , mighty and loving. We listen as they remember what it was like to not know what each day would bring ,only that God had it under His control. We stand in honor for them as they participate in the days marking their service and sacrifice. We pray for those not yet home, who still stand watch. We live, love and remember to not take a single day for granted.
My children have never known a world without the War on Terror. Almost every aspect of their lives has been touched by the residual effects of that one day eleven years ago. Travel security, government identification, communications, national spending, even telephone conversations with relatives stationed in war torn countries have been a part of their formative years.
As a student and teacher of history, the one thing I can almost guarantee is that their generation will also have a 9/11 moment. My prayer is that we will have passed on to them the same faith and determination that has been exemplified for us.
because I hope I don't make a mockery of this tragedy and miss the class on that.
This is a hard one to write, and I didn't even have family in the impacted areas 11 years ago.
I remember watching a morning show with breaking news and a camera shot of the New York City skyline. One of the towers had smoke billowing out of it.
Then the surreal moment as we all watched a second plane hit the second tower.
Live.
As I stood in my living room.
Then the Pentagon.
Then a field in PA.
Watching the first responders going up the stairs of the World Trade Center buildings, and wondering how many would be coming back down.
All too soon getting the awful answer to that question.
Shock. Horror. Disbelief. Anger.....lots of anger...
Phone calls to and from loved ones, checking in, checking up on each other.
Silence in the sky as United States airspace is closed to all commercial traffic.
Wondering if it was really over, or if there was more yet to come.
Eleven years later and I still have a hard time watching those clips, seeing the interviews, hearing a song that mentions the day. I still cry. Still cringe at that date on the calendar. The emotions are less intense now, mostly replaced with a deep, lingering, sense of sadness. And questions. How does one mourn as an individual, and as part of a country when the event is already just a paragraph in history books? How does a people and a country recover enough to rebuild and continue on?
We look back to history and to the memories of those who have recovered from other cataclysmic events. We see their resolve and determination to not let evil acts have the last say in their lives. We see their faith and belief in a God who is holy and just and perfect, merciful , mighty and loving. We listen as they remember what it was like to not know what each day would bring ,only that God had it under His control. We stand in honor for them as they participate in the days marking their service and sacrifice. We pray for those not yet home, who still stand watch. We live, love and remember to not take a single day for granted.
My children have never known a world without the War on Terror. Almost every aspect of their lives has been touched by the residual effects of that one day eleven years ago. Travel security, government identification, communications, national spending, even telephone conversations with relatives stationed in war torn countries have been a part of their formative years.
As a student and teacher of history, the one thing I can almost guarantee is that their generation will also have a 9/11 moment. My prayer is that we will have passed on to them the same faith and determination that has been exemplified for us.
because I hope I don't make a mockery of this tragedy and miss the class on that.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
fall fashions....
I love autumn. I love the change in weather that signals the end to the seemingly endless, oppressive heat of summer. I love the fact that I can pull out my soup pot and make hearty meals that hit the spot on a rainy day. I get especially excited that the feel of a blanket at night is now welcomed and needed instead of dreaded. There's just something so comforting about pulling the covers up to your ears and burrowing under the weight of a handmade quilt on a chilly night.
What I really love about fall though, is that I can now dig out my favorite clothes from the basement storage boxes.
These are the clothes that I wish I could wear year-round. These are the clothes that inspire me to try and become more "outdoorsy" and adventurous. (or at least try to get a fire going in the fireplace by myself) These are the clothes that cry out to me to liberate them from confinement in the midst of 100 degree heatwaves. These are the clothes that inevitably get me in trouble from the fashion police.
These are my flannel lined jeans.
I know that there are cute outfits for fall that incorporate denim, but they just don't work for me. Particularly those adorable draped scarves that make jeans and a plain white t-shirt look dressy and classy.
First of all, please remember my track record with light colored clothing...not good, even with a scarf to cover the coffee stains.
Second of all, anything draped around my neck would also be:
a) tangled in my seat belt
b) water stained as I lean over the sink
c) caught in the front door
d) hopelessly wound around me, my purse, and my shopping cart at the grocery store
e) angrily stuffed in the bottom of a bag, leaving me with my coffee stained t-shirt to wear
Not exactly the cultured, chic look I'm supposed to be aiming for.
My next option for dressing up the denim seems to be boots, except my idea of boots, and the fashion world's idea of boots seem to be on completely opposite sides.
I think that boots are to be used for working in the yard, hiking, or shoveling snow. Try to find anything like that in the fall boot collection at your department store. Those boots are made for people who do not need to walk or even move to do any of their daily activities. The last time I checked the heels on those boots my daughter said, "Mom, put them back. You would hurt yourself in those." She knows me too well...sigh.....
So as the days get shorter, the temperatures cooler and summer fades away, what is a girl to do?
Gleefully skip to the basement and reverently remove the lid to the plastic tub containing the beautiful sight of flannel friends.
When the fall fashion police come banging on my door, (and they will) I will not panic. I know I am breaking every fashion rule in the book, but I'm guessing they will run away screaming when I open my door grinning and wearing:
My recently liberated flannel lined jeans with the layered look of the 80's turtleneck, paired with a flannel shirt, accessorised by a matching colored scrunchy in my ponytail, wool socks and sneakers.
I will chuckle, close the door, and contentedly head back to my pot of baked potato and cheddar cheese soup paired with warm crusty bread and a cup of tea. Not a fancy scarf, or pair of dressy boots in sight....
'cause I missed the class on that.
I love autumn. I love the change in weather that signals the end to the seemingly endless, oppressive heat of summer. I love the fact that I can pull out my soup pot and make hearty meals that hit the spot on a rainy day. I get especially excited that the feel of a blanket at night is now welcomed and needed instead of dreaded. There's just something so comforting about pulling the covers up to your ears and burrowing under the weight of a handmade quilt on a chilly night.
What I really love about fall though, is that I can now dig out my favorite clothes from the basement storage boxes.
These are the clothes that I wish I could wear year-round. These are the clothes that inspire me to try and become more "outdoorsy" and adventurous. (or at least try to get a fire going in the fireplace by myself) These are the clothes that cry out to me to liberate them from confinement in the midst of 100 degree heatwaves. These are the clothes that inevitably get me in trouble from the fashion police.
These are my flannel lined jeans.
I know that there are cute outfits for fall that incorporate denim, but they just don't work for me. Particularly those adorable draped scarves that make jeans and a plain white t-shirt look dressy and classy.
First of all, please remember my track record with light colored clothing...not good, even with a scarf to cover the coffee stains.
Second of all, anything draped around my neck would also be:
a) tangled in my seat belt
b) water stained as I lean over the sink
c) caught in the front door
d) hopelessly wound around me, my purse, and my shopping cart at the grocery store
e) angrily stuffed in the bottom of a bag, leaving me with my coffee stained t-shirt to wear
Not exactly the cultured, chic look I'm supposed to be aiming for.
My next option for dressing up the denim seems to be boots, except my idea of boots, and the fashion world's idea of boots seem to be on completely opposite sides.
I think that boots are to be used for working in the yard, hiking, or shoveling snow. Try to find anything like that in the fall boot collection at your department store. Those boots are made for people who do not need to walk or even move to do any of their daily activities. The last time I checked the heels on those boots my daughter said, "Mom, put them back. You would hurt yourself in those." She knows me too well...sigh.....
So as the days get shorter, the temperatures cooler and summer fades away, what is a girl to do?
Gleefully skip to the basement and reverently remove the lid to the plastic tub containing the beautiful sight of flannel friends.
When the fall fashion police come banging on my door, (and they will) I will not panic. I know I am breaking every fashion rule in the book, but I'm guessing they will run away screaming when I open my door grinning and wearing:
My recently liberated flannel lined jeans with the layered look of the 80's turtleneck, paired with a flannel shirt, accessorised by a matching colored scrunchy in my ponytail, wool socks and sneakers.
I will chuckle, close the door, and contentedly head back to my pot of baked potato and cheddar cheese soup paired with warm crusty bread and a cup of tea. Not a fancy scarf, or pair of dressy boots in sight....
'cause I missed the class on that.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
why my parents let me watch so much television in the 80's.....
OK, maybe it wasn't so much "let" as much as me taking advantage of them being busy convincing my brothers they needed to do their homework....but really...80's television???
The original Battle Star Galactica.
The "A" Team
The Dukes of Hazard
Air Wolf
Scarecrow and Mrs. King
Buck Rogers
Knight Rider
The Love Boat
The Fall Guy
Magnum P.I.
Yikes!!! Anybody want some MORE cheese to go with those crackers????
'Cause I'm not seeing much on that list that can be called "Great writing/acting/producing..."
There were a few shows that did attempt to redeem the silver screen during this decade...
The Cosby Show
Little House on the Prairie
Give me a minute... I know I can think of some more.... (cue the JEOPARDY! theme music in your head please)
......nope.
But I'm betting that most children of the 80's can identify the theme songs for these shows within the first 5 notes, and then sing/hum the rest of the songs for the REST. OF. THE. DAY. Regardless of how much we laugh at those shows now, they are ingrained in our childhood memories. Deeply ingrained.
I realized last week just how deeply.
As I was nodding off to sleep one night, my wonderful husband was fussing with his iPhone. It seems his old alarm tone wasn't waking him up so he needed to try a new sound clip.
Did I mention I was nodding off to sleep???
Did I mention I am a child of the 80's???
Did I mention I watched too much T.V. that decade???
Then please laugh/sympathise with me in the following scenario:
My dear husband forgets that the volume on the phone is set on high.
My sweet husband decides to try the "alarm" button on his ring tones list.... (please play the link below)
....and this mostly asleep, child of the 80's with waaaayyyy too many hours logged in front of the TV screen, sits straight up in bed with two thoughts in her head:
1) Where is my Haz-Mat Suit?????!
2) Where is MacGuyver? We only have 30 seconds to fix this!!!
and then a third thought.....Why is my husband falling out of bed laughing???
'cause I missed the class on that while I was watching T.V.
Anyone else?
http://youtu.be/sd7v_EBAsxs
OK, maybe it wasn't so much "let" as much as me taking advantage of them being busy convincing my brothers they needed to do their homework....but really...80's television???
The original Battle Star Galactica.
The "A" Team
The Dukes of Hazard
Air Wolf
Scarecrow and Mrs. King
Buck Rogers
Knight Rider
The Love Boat
The Fall Guy
Magnum P.I.
Yikes!!! Anybody want some MORE cheese to go with those crackers????
'Cause I'm not seeing much on that list that can be called "Great writing/acting/producing..."
There were a few shows that did attempt to redeem the silver screen during this decade...
The Cosby Show
Little House on the Prairie
Give me a minute... I know I can think of some more.... (cue the JEOPARDY! theme music in your head please)
......nope.
But I'm betting that most children of the 80's can identify the theme songs for these shows within the first 5 notes, and then sing/hum the rest of the songs for the REST. OF. THE. DAY. Regardless of how much we laugh at those shows now, they are ingrained in our childhood memories. Deeply ingrained.
I realized last week just how deeply.
As I was nodding off to sleep one night, my wonderful husband was fussing with his iPhone. It seems his old alarm tone wasn't waking him up so he needed to try a new sound clip.
Did I mention I was nodding off to sleep???
Did I mention I am a child of the 80's???
Did I mention I watched too much T.V. that decade???
Then please laugh/sympathise with me in the following scenario:
My dear husband forgets that the volume on the phone is set on high.
My sweet husband decides to try the "alarm" button on his ring tones list.... (please play the link below)
....and this mostly asleep, child of the 80's with waaaayyyy too many hours logged in front of the TV screen, sits straight up in bed with two thoughts in her head:
1) Where is my Haz-Mat Suit?????!
2) Where is MacGuyver? We only have 30 seconds to fix this!!!
and then a third thought.....Why is my husband falling out of bed laughing???
'cause I missed the class on that while I was watching T.V.
Anyone else?
http://youtu.be/sd7v_EBAsxs
Friday, August 24, 2012
Home Improvement Projects.
Or rather, why some people should NEVER attempt them.
I am married to a wonderful man who has many talents. One of his areas of giftedness is home improvement projects. Drywall, taping, mudding, painting, trim, hanging doors, water heaters, flooring and even gutting and remodeling a full bathroom are all within his scope of ability. This is one of the reasons why we can afford to buy a house rather than rent one. We don't really need a building maintenance man or landlord to handle home repairs and we don't have to call licensed professionals with every little thing, thus saving us hours of labor costs.
That being said, our current home seems to be eating up much of his precious few days off. Every time we go to fix or update some little thing, we find ourselves making multiple trips to the blue or orange home improvement stores to swap out drill bits, hardware, PVC pipe, down spouts, ...whatever. This tends to make the project time grow exponentially. We have even started playing a little game before a new project begins. We try to guesstimate how many trips to the store it will take before the job is completed. If we get it done in fewer trips than our guess we "win". What we win, I don't know. It just feels good to say that we won.
This phenomenon is not limited to my house, or even my generation. When I was in high school I spent many hours baby sitting for one particular couple that knew my parents. They had just bought a two family home with plans of renting the top floor unit and living on the bottom floor unit. That eventually worked out for them, but they hit a problem first.
The problem? The house had been Buckleyed.
(I apologize if you are a Buckley....I never met this particular branch of the family, just the aftermath of their projects.)
Every time something had to be done to the house it turned into a major project.
Say you needed to strip the wallpaper off. That should not require much more than a steamer and some elbow grease, right? Not if your house has been Buckleyed. Nope. This is when you pull off the switch covers and find out that wires aren't connected or grounded, or haven't been updated. So instead of painting clean walls, you spend your weekend calling electricians and watching your decorating budget get spent on miles of wiring and hourly wages.
For the next weekend you figure you'll just rip up the carpet in the front hallway. Messy and dusty, but not really expensive, right? Guess again. Remember, this house has been Buckleyed. There was a reason why they put carpet down in the first place. Apparently they weren't as good at re-finishing hardwood floors as they thought. And on it went. For the entire time they lived there.
Fast forward to present day. We love most things about our current house. It is in a great location, has more square footage than anything we've ever lived in before and the kitchen has more cabinet and counter space than the galley on the QE II. It has, however, been Buckleyed. And not just your basic Buckley plan either. Oh no. This house has been given the deluxe treatment.
At first inspection the top few rows of exterior bricks on the chimney just looked like they needed to be re-pointed and sealed. Not a big deal. Just a weekend, a trip for supplies and some tools borrowed from some friends....... except, some previous owner apparently took a page from the Buckley play book and chose some weird type of brick and mortar that absorbs moisture and allows the bricks to expand and contract....and crumble to dust.....
Three months, two levels of scaffolding and one consult with a master mason later, we are removing the top 20" of brick and re-laying 250 bricks under the mason's supervision.
We knew the downstairs bathroom and shower needed to be re caulked and touched up. Again no big deal. A Saturday morning, a few tubes of caulking and time for everything to dry and seal......except....yup...Buckleyesque repairs done here too, allowing water to boldly mold where no water should have gone before.....
Two months, new caulking, new manifold, new shut off valves, new drywall, new sub-flooring, new moisture barrier and new laminate flooring later and all we have left to do to complete the bathroom, bedroom, downstairs hallway and laundry room is some tile, grout, bathroom paint, trim and door installation.... sigh.....
We thought maybe the backyard had escaped the "help" of the Buckleys, but alas we were sorely disappointed. Apparently when a Buckley decides to change the landscaping, they do not believe in removing ANY of the old material...EVER.
Imagine my "delight" when trying to get a patch of yard ready for a small garden to find...
mulch, laid over
landscaping fabric, laid over
red lava rock, laid over
more landscaping fabric.... in the front, back and side yards.
I was able to get a basil garden planted, but in order to use any other portion of the yard for food production we are really going to need to do/use the following:
Pull down all of the chain-link fence
Grind the 7 tree stumps out
excavate the former coy pond complete with full liner and gravel (now covered with mulch)
Completely scrape, regrade and re-seed the front and back lawns....
I'm thinking that buying tomatoes at $4.99/lb would be cheaper.
I'm also thinking that This Old House could do an entire season on locating where the Buckleys have lived and correcting any projects that have been attempted.
Or maybe we should have a National Register of Buckleyed Homes that qualify for special federal funding for any and all restoration projects.
So, if you ever find yourself standing in line at a home-improvement store behind a family that seems to be on a first name basis with all the staff, you can be sure that one of two things are happening.
Either someone is fixing a Buckley, or a Buckley is fixing to strike again...
'cause they missed the class on that!
Or rather, why some people should NEVER attempt them.
I am married to a wonderful man who has many talents. One of his areas of giftedness is home improvement projects. Drywall, taping, mudding, painting, trim, hanging doors, water heaters, flooring and even gutting and remodeling a full bathroom are all within his scope of ability. This is one of the reasons why we can afford to buy a house rather than rent one. We don't really need a building maintenance man or landlord to handle home repairs and we don't have to call licensed professionals with every little thing, thus saving us hours of labor costs.
That being said, our current home seems to be eating up much of his precious few days off. Every time we go to fix or update some little thing, we find ourselves making multiple trips to the blue or orange home improvement stores to swap out drill bits, hardware, PVC pipe, down spouts, ...whatever. This tends to make the project time grow exponentially. We have even started playing a little game before a new project begins. We try to guesstimate how many trips to the store it will take before the job is completed. If we get it done in fewer trips than our guess we "win". What we win, I don't know. It just feels good to say that we won.
This phenomenon is not limited to my house, or even my generation. When I was in high school I spent many hours baby sitting for one particular couple that knew my parents. They had just bought a two family home with plans of renting the top floor unit and living on the bottom floor unit. That eventually worked out for them, but they hit a problem first.
The problem? The house had been Buckleyed.
(I apologize if you are a Buckley....I never met this particular branch of the family, just the aftermath of their projects.)
Every time something had to be done to the house it turned into a major project.
Say you needed to strip the wallpaper off. That should not require much more than a steamer and some elbow grease, right? Not if your house has been Buckleyed. Nope. This is when you pull off the switch covers and find out that wires aren't connected or grounded, or haven't been updated. So instead of painting clean walls, you spend your weekend calling electricians and watching your decorating budget get spent on miles of wiring and hourly wages.
For the next weekend you figure you'll just rip up the carpet in the front hallway. Messy and dusty, but not really expensive, right? Guess again. Remember, this house has been Buckleyed. There was a reason why they put carpet down in the first place. Apparently they weren't as good at re-finishing hardwood floors as they thought. And on it went. For the entire time they lived there.
Fast forward to present day. We love most things about our current house. It is in a great location, has more square footage than anything we've ever lived in before and the kitchen has more cabinet and counter space than the galley on the QE II. It has, however, been Buckleyed. And not just your basic Buckley plan either. Oh no. This house has been given the deluxe treatment.
At first inspection the top few rows of exterior bricks on the chimney just looked like they needed to be re-pointed and sealed. Not a big deal. Just a weekend, a trip for supplies and some tools borrowed from some friends....... except, some previous owner apparently took a page from the Buckley play book and chose some weird type of brick and mortar that absorbs moisture and allows the bricks to expand and contract....and crumble to dust.....
Three months, two levels of scaffolding and one consult with a master mason later, we are removing the top 20" of brick and re-laying 250 bricks under the mason's supervision.
We knew the downstairs bathroom and shower needed to be re caulked and touched up. Again no big deal. A Saturday morning, a few tubes of caulking and time for everything to dry and seal......except....yup...Buckleyesque repairs done here too, allowing water to boldly mold where no water should have gone before.....
Two months, new caulking, new manifold, new shut off valves, new drywall, new sub-flooring, new moisture barrier and new laminate flooring later and all we have left to do to complete the bathroom, bedroom, downstairs hallway and laundry room is some tile, grout, bathroom paint, trim and door installation.... sigh.....
We thought maybe the backyard had escaped the "help" of the Buckleys, but alas we were sorely disappointed. Apparently when a Buckley decides to change the landscaping, they do not believe in removing ANY of the old material...EVER.
Imagine my "delight" when trying to get a patch of yard ready for a small garden to find...
mulch, laid over
landscaping fabric, laid over
red lava rock, laid over
more landscaping fabric.... in the front, back and side yards.
I was able to get a basil garden planted, but in order to use any other portion of the yard for food production we are really going to need to do/use the following:
Pull down all of the chain-link fence
Grind the 7 tree stumps out
excavate the former coy pond complete with full liner and gravel (now covered with mulch)
Completely scrape, regrade and re-seed the front and back lawns....
I'm thinking that buying tomatoes at $4.99/lb would be cheaper.
I'm also thinking that This Old House could do an entire season on locating where the Buckleys have lived and correcting any projects that have been attempted.
Or maybe we should have a National Register of Buckleyed Homes that qualify for special federal funding for any and all restoration projects.
So, if you ever find yourself standing in line at a home-improvement store behind a family that seems to be on a first name basis with all the staff, you can be sure that one of two things are happening.
Either someone is fixing a Buckley, or a Buckley is fixing to strike again...
'cause they missed the class on that!
Friday, August 10, 2012
How to keep a white shirt white (other than leaving it on the rack at the store)
Actually.... how to keep any shirt clean and stain-free for longer than 10 minutes. Doesn't matter the color, fabric or style. I am hard pressed at this moment to think of more than three shirts in my wardrobe that are not polka-dotted with an historical record of my past meals and professions.
As a teacher I quickly learned not to buy expensive blouses/sweaters/tops. There isn't much point in paying good money for something that is going to soon become covered in any or all of the following:
1) permanent marker (any color....and they have MANY colors)
2) chalk (yes, I still used chalk on occasion)
3) dry-erase marker
4) dry-erase eraser dust
5) pen (again...many colors)
6) coffee
7) coffee
8) coffee
As the mother of young children (read infant/toddler stage) I also realized that anything that I bought to wear was going to be frequently baptized in any or all of the following:
1) bodily fluids (any type, from any orifice)
2) pureed veggies
3) pureed fruit
4) soggy cereal
5) dirt
6) tears (theirs AND mine)
7) coffee
8) coffee
9) coffee
As the mother of children who are now more self-sufficient you would think the clothing situation would have stabilized somewhat.
Nope.
Now it just means that since I am not the one who made the pb&j, I am also not aware of the globs of pb&j that have been left on various surfaces around the house, including, but not limited to:
1) counters
2) cabinets
3) tables
4) chairs
5) I kid you not....bathroom doors
Thus leaving me with slightly perceptible remembrances of my children's lunches on my favorite shirts and sweaters....sigh......
I tried a few months ago to see if it could be done....this wearing of light colored tops for a whole day without disasters. I made it exactly 32.4 minutes before I spilled my dark cream colored coffee on my new LIGHT cream colored sweater. Good thing I got it on sale for 80% off, since I only got 2% use of it.
I did manage to keep my wedding dress clean for TWO receptions, but I think that was due more to the fact that I didn't have time to eat much, and went nowhere near a cup of coffee.
I found out this week though that I might actually have very little control over the situation. Seems this problem is genetic, not academic.
The children and I went to our state fair yesterday with my dad A.K.A. Grampy.
The kids were dressed in bright neon t-shirts and I had a white t-shirt with a 5k logo on the front. (You can already see where this is going, right?)
As my daughter takes her first bite of corn-dog, the copious amounts of mustard and catsup she had applied began to slide off the corn-dog and onto her lime-green shirt. She also decided to take a quick bath in her strawberry smoothie. Her mother (A.K.A. me) proceeded to dribble bits and pieces of the chili from her chili fries down the front of the (formerly) white t-shirt. Grampy just laughed and shook his head. Seems that he also has a wardrobe full of shirts that have been inaugurated in the same manner.
Our solution?
Pay more attention when we eat? No
Don't eat or write during business hours? No
Don't have children? Too late
Quit drinking coffee? (excuse me while I pick myself up off the floor from laughing so hard.)
It is fairly simple.....
Never pay retail for shirts. Always keep a Tide with bleach pen handy.
'Cause apparently most of my family has missed the class on this!
Actually.... how to keep any shirt clean and stain-free for longer than 10 minutes. Doesn't matter the color, fabric or style. I am hard pressed at this moment to think of more than three shirts in my wardrobe that are not polka-dotted with an historical record of my past meals and professions.
As a teacher I quickly learned not to buy expensive blouses/sweaters/tops. There isn't much point in paying good money for something that is going to soon become covered in any or all of the following:
1) permanent marker (any color....and they have MANY colors)
2) chalk (yes, I still used chalk on occasion)
3) dry-erase marker
4) dry-erase eraser dust
5) pen (again...many colors)
6) coffee
7) coffee
8) coffee
As the mother of young children (read infant/toddler stage) I also realized that anything that I bought to wear was going to be frequently baptized in any or all of the following:
1) bodily fluids (any type, from any orifice)
2) pureed veggies
3) pureed fruit
4) soggy cereal
5) dirt
6) tears (theirs AND mine)
7) coffee
8) coffee
9) coffee
As the mother of children who are now more self-sufficient you would think the clothing situation would have stabilized somewhat.
Nope.
Now it just means that since I am not the one who made the pb&j, I am also not aware of the globs of pb&j that have been left on various surfaces around the house, including, but not limited to:
1) counters
2) cabinets
3) tables
4) chairs
5) I kid you not....bathroom doors
Thus leaving me with slightly perceptible remembrances of my children's lunches on my favorite shirts and sweaters....sigh......
I tried a few months ago to see if it could be done....this wearing of light colored tops for a whole day without disasters. I made it exactly 32.4 minutes before I spilled my dark cream colored coffee on my new LIGHT cream colored sweater. Good thing I got it on sale for 80% off, since I only got 2% use of it.
I did manage to keep my wedding dress clean for TWO receptions, but I think that was due more to the fact that I didn't have time to eat much, and went nowhere near a cup of coffee.
I found out this week though that I might actually have very little control over the situation. Seems this problem is genetic, not academic.
The children and I went to our state fair yesterday with my dad A.K.A. Grampy.
The kids were dressed in bright neon t-shirts and I had a white t-shirt with a 5k logo on the front. (You can already see where this is going, right?)
As my daughter takes her first bite of corn-dog, the copious amounts of mustard and catsup she had applied began to slide off the corn-dog and onto her lime-green shirt. She also decided to take a quick bath in her strawberry smoothie. Her mother (A.K.A. me) proceeded to dribble bits and pieces of the chili from her chili fries down the front of the (formerly) white t-shirt. Grampy just laughed and shook his head. Seems that he also has a wardrobe full of shirts that have been inaugurated in the same manner.
Our solution?
Pay more attention when we eat? No
Don't eat or write during business hours? No
Don't have children? Too late
Quit drinking coffee? (excuse me while I pick myself up off the floor from laughing so hard.)
It is fairly simple.....
Never pay retail for shirts. Always keep a Tide with bleach pen handy.
'Cause apparently most of my family has missed the class on this!
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Life in the Mid-West (part III, the final in a series)
Customs and Cultures...where should I start......
You would think that since English is the official language of the United States, it would work the same across the country.
Yeah, you would think.....
I have found that while we might all be using the same words, we are not using the same definitions. That can get pretty confusing in a very short amount of time.
Just think about the following imagined scenario: I am out of carbonated beverages, so I ask my husband to run to the store for me and hand him a short list of the things I need. He comes back with a box of Just For Men. The problem? I gave him a list written in New Englandese, but he was shopping in the Mid-West. See....not so simple after all.
Tonic:
New England: any carbonated beverage...root beer, Pepsi, Coke, etc..
Mid-West: Old fashioned word for men's hair-styling product.
A real-life scenario:
We have gone out to eat and I have ordered an iced tea with my meal. The waiter comes with the drinks, and I take a large sip of my tea.....only to choke, sputter, spurt and in general make a huge mess. The problem??? I had ordered in New Englandese, but was sitting at a restaurant in the Mid-West. I was expecting plain iced tea, but had gotten a mouthful of high-fructose corn syrup tea.
Southerners and Mid-Westerners have been known to have the same sputtering reaction to iced tea ordered in New England.
Iced Tea
New England = served unsweetened, all the time.
Mid-West = usually served sweetened
*WARNING...in the South, when ordering tea, it will be served iced and sweet enough to induce a diabetic shock.
Next real-life scenario:
I once got to teach a Physical Education class at a school in the Mid-West. On my list of items the students needed to bring/wear to class I included the type of footwear I wanted the students to have.
Again, I wrote the list in New Englandese, but sent it to parents who lived in the Mid-West....sigh....
The problem? the 367 e-mails I received asking me what sneakers were.
Athletic Footwear
New England : Sneakers, or shoes designed and named for a specific sport (i.e. running shoes, basketball shoes, tennis shoes...etc..)
Mid-West: Any shoe used for any athletic purpose : Tennis shoes
So you can see how the language can get a little confusing.
Customs and traditions can be just as baffling. Here is just one example:
State Fair:
New England: Wasn't that a musical??? Do states still have those????
Mid-West: (especially Iowa) Everyone in the entire state makes it point to schedule their last few days of vacation around the dates of their state fair. Heated discussions/fights take place in state capitols about why schools should NOT start their academic calendars until AFTER the fair had closed. Any Mid-Westerner on cholesterol medication goes on a strict plant-based dietthe month before the fair so they can sample all 67 varieties of fried foods (most of which are served on a stick for portability as you walk/roll to the next fried food stand). Entire sections of the largest newspaper in the state are dedicated to informing you about the fair schedule, exhibit locations and contest information. Grocery stores put extra staff on their customer service desks to handle the people coming in to buy their advanced discount admission tickets. And just to make sure you don't miss any of the booths offering bacon wrapped, batter dipped, fried hot dogs...there is a State Fair Food Locator iphone app for that.
Hmmmmm......I think I missed the class on that...
But the fair opens this week, and I bet I can get caught up ;)
Customs and Cultures...where should I start......
You would think that since English is the official language of the United States, it would work the same across the country.
Yeah, you would think.....
I have found that while we might all be using the same words, we are not using the same definitions. That can get pretty confusing in a very short amount of time.
Just think about the following imagined scenario: I am out of carbonated beverages, so I ask my husband to run to the store for me and hand him a short list of the things I need. He comes back with a box of Just For Men. The problem? I gave him a list written in New Englandese, but he was shopping in the Mid-West. See....not so simple after all.
Tonic:
New England: any carbonated beverage...root beer, Pepsi, Coke, etc..
Mid-West: Old fashioned word for men's hair-styling product.
A real-life scenario:
We have gone out to eat and I have ordered an iced tea with my meal. The waiter comes with the drinks, and I take a large sip of my tea.....only to choke, sputter, spurt and in general make a huge mess. The problem??? I had ordered in New Englandese, but was sitting at a restaurant in the Mid-West. I was expecting plain iced tea, but had gotten a mouthful of high-fructose corn syrup tea.
Southerners and Mid-Westerners have been known to have the same sputtering reaction to iced tea ordered in New England.
Iced Tea
New England = served unsweetened, all the time.
Mid-West = usually served sweetened
*WARNING...in the South, when ordering tea, it will be served iced and sweet enough to induce a diabetic shock.
Next real-life scenario:
I once got to teach a Physical Education class at a school in the Mid-West. On my list of items the students needed to bring/wear to class I included the type of footwear I wanted the students to have.
Again, I wrote the list in New Englandese, but sent it to parents who lived in the Mid-West....sigh....
The problem? the 367 e-mails I received asking me what sneakers were.
Athletic Footwear
New England : Sneakers, or shoes designed and named for a specific sport (i.e. running shoes, basketball shoes, tennis shoes...etc..)
Mid-West: Any shoe used for any athletic purpose : Tennis shoes
So you can see how the language can get a little confusing.
Customs and traditions can be just as baffling. Here is just one example:
State Fair:
New England: Wasn't that a musical??? Do states still have those????
Mid-West: (especially Iowa) Everyone in the entire state makes it point to schedule their last few days of vacation around the dates of their state fair. Heated discussions/fights take place in state capitols about why schools should NOT start their academic calendars until AFTER the fair had closed. Any Mid-Westerner on cholesterol medication goes on a strict plant-based dietthe month before the fair so they can sample all 67 varieties of fried foods (most of which are served on a stick for portability as you walk/roll to the next fried food stand). Entire sections of the largest newspaper in the state are dedicated to informing you about the fair schedule, exhibit locations and contest information. Grocery stores put extra staff on their customer service desks to handle the people coming in to buy their advanced discount admission tickets. And just to make sure you don't miss any of the booths offering bacon wrapped, batter dipped, fried hot dogs...there is a State Fair Food Locator iphone app for that.
Hmmmmm......I think I missed the class on that...
But the fair opens this week, and I bet I can get caught up ;)
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