2013 in Review
Consider this the Christmas Letter, Alumni Update, New Years Resolution, Bucket List, Life Goal and general, all-round year-in-review extravaganza.
'Cause I missed the class on all of those.
In 2013 I successfully:
drove my pre-teens nuts
puked out my guts
and sent the dog through the windshield of the van
read a few books
got a few dirty looks
as I drove though the town in the van
cleaned off a shelf
found no magical elf
and did some grocery shopping with the van
folded nine thousand clothes
and even brought some of those
items home for my fam, in the van
dug and planted some seeds
in a yard full of weeds
after lugging supplies in the van
taught some classes for boys
who like to make noise
and sought silence in the refuge of my van
cooked a few hundred meals
and made a few deals
using coupons I keep in the van
wrote a few posts
and made a few boasts
about the kids I schlep around with the van
finished this in time
to meet my deadline
of the 2013 end of year
and might possibly be
the happiest me
if a Subaru replaces the van :)
Happy New Year
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Thursday, December 5, 2013
book review : Chasing Hope
disclaimer: I was offered a free copy of this book in exchange for a written review.
Chasing Hope
a novel by Kathryn Cushman
Published by Bethany House Publishers
2013
I run...sometimes...if I have to chase the dog. The rest of the time, my aerobic activity might best be described as a jog. A few years ago it would have been described as a sit. That is, however, until a high school cross country coach offered open workouts with her team over the summer. It was that summer when I learned about the physical and mental strength a runner of any level must develop. I saw the dedication and rewards of commitment and training. I saw the disappointment of falling short of a season goal, and the fortitude needed to try again the next day, month and year.
In Chasing Hope, Kathryn Cushman captures the essence of a runner's inner struggles, both with her body and her thoughts. The story shows how a God given talent can be used, abused or misunderstood, but never ignored. The conflicts the characters have with their own selves and with those closest to them do not shy away from pain and grief. Each of the protagonists must do the hard work required to grow physically, spiritually and emotionally.
While at times I felt the character of Sabrina was written as much older than her chronological age (which did distract me), the allure of the real and humanly flawed characters pulled me back into the story. Waiting to see if they had the perseverance to continue with a difficult task, a long-term commitment or a life changing decision. Watching as each one wrestled with what it means to do "Big" things for God. Wondering how I would handle their difficulties.
I would recommend this book to those who run...to and away from God. His idea of a race well run may just surprise you. And get you off the couch.
Chasing Hope
a novel by Kathryn Cushman
Published by Bethany House Publishers
2013
I run...sometimes...if I have to chase the dog. The rest of the time, my aerobic activity might best be described as a jog. A few years ago it would have been described as a sit. That is, however, until a high school cross country coach offered open workouts with her team over the summer. It was that summer when I learned about the physical and mental strength a runner of any level must develop. I saw the dedication and rewards of commitment and training. I saw the disappointment of falling short of a season goal, and the fortitude needed to try again the next day, month and year.
In Chasing Hope, Kathryn Cushman captures the essence of a runner's inner struggles, both with her body and her thoughts. The story shows how a God given talent can be used, abused or misunderstood, but never ignored. The conflicts the characters have with their own selves and with those closest to them do not shy away from pain and grief. Each of the protagonists must do the hard work required to grow physically, spiritually and emotionally.
While at times I felt the character of Sabrina was written as much older than her chronological age (which did distract me), the allure of the real and humanly flawed characters pulled me back into the story. Waiting to see if they had the perseverance to continue with a difficult task, a long-term commitment or a life changing decision. Watching as each one wrestled with what it means to do "Big" things for God. Wondering how I would handle their difficulties.
I would recommend this book to those who run...to and away from God. His idea of a race well run may just surprise you. And get you off the couch.
Saturday, August 31, 2013
County Extensions
gardening in the suburbs....
When we bought our first house in the mid-west it came with a fairly substantial backyard. A yard that we quickly realized would consume the better part of a weekend with mowing, weeding and trimming. So we started turning sections of the yard into garden space. The rationale being that if it was going to take up our time, then it had better be contributing to the family's welfare.
We gradually turned ourselves into quite the little "suburban" farmers. I say "we" loosely, since my husband and kids did most of the work. I was just in charge of making sure the mint plants didn't get out of control and that the basil got processed into enough pesto to get us through the winter.
The rest of the family however, managed to produce the following over a 3 year period:
potatoes, corn, squash, okra, eggplant, kohlrabi, okra, tomatoes, onions, lettuce, okra, spinach, brussel sprouts, okra, broccoli, cucumbers, raspberries, okra, watermelon, pumpkins...and did I mention? ...okra...
Seems that okra loves heat.....and Kansas....
Two years and a new state later and I think we STILL have jars of pickled okra around somewhere.
Now we have a different house, in a different mid-west state with a different yard and a different schedule. If we were going to have a garden this year, I was going to have to be the one to get it done. Out of the four of us I had the most time, but the least amount of experience. Last year my total yield was: basil...and some dill....which basically grows itself. So there you are.
I at least knew enough to NOT plant okra.
Did you know that there is a weed called "Stinging Nettle" that stings?
Did you know that there is such a thing as overwatering?
Did you know that you can plant seeds too deep?
Did you know that there is such a thing as under watering?
Did you know that there are 92 different insects that wait until just before your plants are ready to produce food before they decide to devour all the foliage?
Did you know that when a seed package says "full sun" they don't really mean "Iowa full sun"?
Did you know that there are 64 different kinds of mold/mildew that can infect your plants and that all 64 have a different cause and a different treatment?
Did you know that $2.98 of my annual property tax bill goes to the state agricultural extension phone line? And that you can call that number to get answers to your pest/mildew/gardening questions? And that I didn't find that out until AFTER the summer was almost over?????
So my beans were semi-successful
My basil is OK
So while I can figure out the herbs, fruits and veggies, I guess I can't grow sunflowers....in their native habitat....
Next year I may just go back to okra.
'Cause according to the jars sitting in my kitchen cabinet, I didn't miss the class on that!
When we bought our first house in the mid-west it came with a fairly substantial backyard. A yard that we quickly realized would consume the better part of a weekend with mowing, weeding and trimming. So we started turning sections of the yard into garden space. The rationale being that if it was going to take up our time, then it had better be contributing to the family's welfare.
We gradually turned ourselves into quite the little "suburban" farmers. I say "we" loosely, since my husband and kids did most of the work. I was just in charge of making sure the mint plants didn't get out of control and that the basil got processed into enough pesto to get us through the winter.
The rest of the family however, managed to produce the following over a 3 year period:
potatoes, corn, squash, okra, eggplant, kohlrabi, okra, tomatoes, onions, lettuce, okra, spinach, brussel sprouts, okra, broccoli, cucumbers, raspberries, okra, watermelon, pumpkins...and did I mention? ...okra...
Seems that okra loves heat.....and Kansas....
Two years and a new state later and I think we STILL have jars of pickled okra around somewhere.
Now we have a different house, in a different mid-west state with a different yard and a different schedule. If we were going to have a garden this year, I was going to have to be the one to get it done. Out of the four of us I had the most time, but the least amount of experience. Last year my total yield was: basil...and some dill....which basically grows itself. So there you are.
I at least knew enough to NOT plant okra.
Did you know that there is a weed called "Stinging Nettle" that stings?
Did you know that there is such a thing as overwatering?
Did you know that you can plant seeds too deep?
Did you know that there is such a thing as under watering?
Did you know that there are 92 different insects that wait until just before your plants are ready to produce food before they decide to devour all the foliage?
Did you know that when a seed package says "full sun" they don't really mean "Iowa full sun"?
Did you know that there are 64 different kinds of mold/mildew that can infect your plants and that all 64 have a different cause and a different treatment?
Did you know that $2.98 of my annual property tax bill goes to the state agricultural extension phone line? And that you can call that number to get answers to your pest/mildew/gardening questions? And that I didn't find that out until AFTER the summer was almost over?????
So my beans were semi-successful
My basil is OK
My cilantro, peas, raspberries, lettuce and rhubarb all seem to be surviving my bumbling attempts at being semi self-sufficient this summer.
The one thing that seems to have escaped my grasp this gardening season are the sunflowers. I had pictured tall yellow flowers following the sun with their bright cheery faces throughout the day. These bits of joy in my garden were to be the final incentive to continue with the weeding, feeding and watering through the hot weeks of August. They were to be some of the last color lingering in the backyard as we head into fall.
It is true that they are tall and yellow.
It is even true that they have bright cheery faces.
It is NOT true that they follow the sun.
Nope.
Not MY sunflowers.
MY sunflowers face east. All Day. Every Day.
So that I can't see them.
So while I can figure out the herbs, fruits and veggies, I guess I can't grow sunflowers....in their native habitat....
Next year I may just go back to okra.
'Cause according to the jars sitting in my kitchen cabinet, I didn't miss the class on that!
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Bats in the Belfry
......getting along with nature....
I like nature.
Most of the time.
When I am in control of the encounter.
I prefer observing nature as opposed to experiencing nature. For example:
...sitting on a porch gazing at the ocean, instead of swimming in the ocean with who knows what lurking beneath you, just beyond your sight.
...bird watching with binoculars from your living room window rather than walking down the street wondering what is going to fall on your head.
...standing in your backyard watching the neighborhood bats swoop through the evening sky eating all the nasty insects rather than running, screaming from your house mid-afternoon because a neighborhood bat was swooping through your front parlor.
yeah....about that......
You see, the reason why we pay a mortgage, is because I prefer having four walls and a roof between my personal space and the rest of nature. I tend to get upset when nature doesn't co-operate with that plan.
So there we were Monday afternoon. The kids and I were getting ready to go run some errands and meet someone to exchange some papers for a class. I had a limited time frame to work with before the meeting, but I could get it done, assuming there were no major interruptions.
We all know what happens when we assume....
All of a sudden I hear my son announce from the front room, "Uhhhhh, Mom?"..."There's a bat in the house..."
Here is how I wish I had handled the situation:
Calmly step to the front door, open the door, and let the panicked little flying mammal back into the great out doors.
Calmly proceed with the rest of the day.
Here is how I really handled the situation:
Screamed....
Reallly loudly....
More than once.....
With all the windows open for the whole neighborhood to hear....
There may or may not have been a broom involved......
I may or may not have run out of the house....without my kids..... while screaming.....
My dear daughter somehow managed to get into my room, snag the phone, and toss it out her window to me in the front yard (where I may or may not have been standing, screaming, swinging a broom....)
I managed to call my husband to tell him what was happening. He managed to not laugh. Or at least managed to hit the mute button on his phone...
He then googled the phrase....How to get a bat out of your house... and proceeded to tell me
"Here's a website, it says, "10 Steps to remove a bat"
WHAT??? 10!!! Steps!!!
Who has time to perform a 10 step function while being dive bombed by nature???
Let's not forget that most of these 10 steps involved getting close enough to the creature to throw a towel on it, and then picking the towel up....with the live bat still in it.....
What happened to "2 steps to remove a bat"?
1) Scream
2) Swing the broom
Much easier to remember.
But not a productive option either ....sigh....
It turns out that the bat wanted to get outside just as much as I wanted to be back inside. So we came to an agreement.
I would open my front door to let it out, and it would LEAVE. Then I would run to my back door to get back in the house. As soon as I was back in the house I would use my broom handle to push the front door shut....firmly...and then lock it...just in case.....
There may or may not have been screaming .....from the creature... and the lady with with broom....and the kids....and the dog.....
And then I calmly proceeded to go about the rest of my day.
Good thing for the bat I had already had one cup of coffee. After the bat I didn't need a second cup.
It has been a few days and we have not been visited by any more confused flying mammals. We still check the corners of all the rooms and duck when we come in the house...just in case......
Cause while I hate mosquitoes more than bats, I like my un-natured house even better....and I can swing a pretty mean broom...
'cause this city girl didn't miss the class on that :)
I like nature.
Most of the time.
When I am in control of the encounter.
I prefer observing nature as opposed to experiencing nature. For example:
...sitting on a porch gazing at the ocean, instead of swimming in the ocean with who knows what lurking beneath you, just beyond your sight.
...bird watching with binoculars from your living room window rather than walking down the street wondering what is going to fall on your head.
...standing in your backyard watching the neighborhood bats swoop through the evening sky eating all the nasty insects rather than running, screaming from your house mid-afternoon because a neighborhood bat was swooping through your front parlor.
yeah....about that......
You see, the reason why we pay a mortgage, is because I prefer having four walls and a roof between my personal space and the rest of nature. I tend to get upset when nature doesn't co-operate with that plan.
So there we were Monday afternoon. The kids and I were getting ready to go run some errands and meet someone to exchange some papers for a class. I had a limited time frame to work with before the meeting, but I could get it done, assuming there were no major interruptions.
We all know what happens when we assume....
All of a sudden I hear my son announce from the front room, "Uhhhhh, Mom?"..."There's a bat in the house..."
Here is how I wish I had handled the situation:
Calmly step to the front door, open the door, and let the panicked little flying mammal back into the great out doors.
Calmly proceed with the rest of the day.
Here is how I really handled the situation:
Screamed....
Reallly loudly....
More than once.....
With all the windows open for the whole neighborhood to hear....
There may or may not have been a broom involved......
I may or may not have run out of the house....without my kids..... while screaming.....
My dear daughter somehow managed to get into my room, snag the phone, and toss it out her window to me in the front yard (where I may or may not have been standing, screaming, swinging a broom....)
I managed to call my husband to tell him what was happening. He managed to not laugh. Or at least managed to hit the mute button on his phone...
He then googled the phrase....How to get a bat out of your house... and proceeded to tell me
"Here's a website, it says, "10 Steps to remove a bat"
WHAT??? 10!!! Steps!!!
Who has time to perform a 10 step function while being dive bombed by nature???
Let's not forget that most of these 10 steps involved getting close enough to the creature to throw a towel on it, and then picking the towel up....with the live bat still in it.....
What happened to "2 steps to remove a bat"?
1) Scream
2) Swing the broom
Much easier to remember.
But not a productive option either ....sigh....
It turns out that the bat wanted to get outside just as much as I wanted to be back inside. So we came to an agreement.
I would open my front door to let it out, and it would LEAVE. Then I would run to my back door to get back in the house. As soon as I was back in the house I would use my broom handle to push the front door shut....firmly...and then lock it...just in case.....
There may or may not have been screaming .....from the creature... and the lady with with broom....and the kids....and the dog.....
And then I calmly proceeded to go about the rest of my day.
Good thing for the bat I had already had one cup of coffee. After the bat I didn't need a second cup.
It has been a few days and we have not been visited by any more confused flying mammals. We still check the corners of all the rooms and duck when we come in the house...just in case......
Cause while I hate mosquitoes more than bats, I like my un-natured house even better....and I can swing a pretty mean broom...
'cause this city girl didn't miss the class on that :)
Thursday, July 4, 2013
How to celebrate the 4th
part 2....
This is specifically to assure you that my children do NOT think that the 4th of July is only about burgers, fireworks and the Boston Pops.
Nope. For this history geek's family the following also holds true for the week of the 4th:
New T-shirts.
A Mega Movie Marathon.
A tacky flag shaped jello-salad will appear at some cook-out, at some point in the week.
You are allowed to shout the following ..."Huzzah! Her sides are made of iron!!" when your mother makes her morning appearance.
Yup. In my brain this makes perfect sense.
I skip the everyoneweargreenandred family Christmas photo.
I skip the everyonewearkhakianddenim family portrait photo.
I skip just about every holiday themed family photo op there is on the calendar....
....except July 4th.
For July 4th I will begin my search 8 weeks in advance for the most competitively priced patriotic themed T-shirts and then make my family keep their red, white and blue shirts in their dresser drawer until July 4th. NO ONE is allowed to wear the shirt until the specified day. Then, they must wear the shirt ALL DAY on the 4th.
Nothing says Independence Day Fun like a T-shirt that has absorbed the odors of grill, catsup, potato salad, orange soda, bug spray, sun screen and gun powder smoke, with a little pre-teen deodorant forgetfulness thrown in for good measure.
Most people associate the fourth day of July with the signing of the Declaration of Independence in 1776. Technicalities aside, the fourth was a very key day in that document's history, so we can go with that.
In my family, however, we also choose to remember the three day battle that took place in a tiny little town in Pennsylvania on July 1-3,1863: Gettysburg. We watch the movies Gods and Generals, Gettysburg, and maybe some segments of the Ken Burns documentary The Civil War. To the extent that some of us can quote the Chamberlain brothers, Lee, Pickett, Jackson and Sullivan Ballou's letter home before the battle of Bull Run..... but I'm not mentioning names....even if my children still roll their eyes....at me....every year......
For whatever cook-out/potluck we attend for the holiday I will usually commit to bringing my jello-salad set in the mold shape of a waving flag. Using strawberry flavored jello, blueberries and whipped cream, I can create a fairly good representation of Old Glory. As long as I don't try to take the jello out of the mold.....ever. We just decorate it and serve it form the mold itself....something about not letting the flag touch the ground...even in jello form....sigh.
About the Huzzah.....
You see, one of my favorite time periods in United States history is the War of 1812. Think...making sure the British really were convinced that we were serious in 1776 about that whole free and independent thing.
While I am almost certain that I can come up with something significant that happened in that war on a July 4th, I'm not sure that it really matters for this.
This is the day my favorite piece of U.S.history comes alive. The U.S.S. Constitution, one of the first six frigates in the United States Navy, and the oldest commissioned, naval ship afloat takes a cruise around her host harbor every year on the 4th. She parades through the harbor, fires her cannon in salute and reminds us all that history can indeed reach out from the past to touch us in the present.
Her nick-name is "Old Ironsides" due to the fact that cannon balls would literally bounce off her hull during battle. Hence the quote from a 19th century sailor greeting me some mornings in my caffeine deprived stupor.
Why would a mother allow her children to shout such things at her, comparing her to an inanimate object?
Well, this particular inanimate object is:
1) over 200 years old and still not retired
2) undefeated in battle
3) the recipient of multi-million dollar restorations to keep her in tip-top shape
Who wouldn't want to be referred to as such????
Oh, Yeah,...She also lives at the Charlestown Navy Yard, in Boston Harbor ;)
Which brings me back to my gluten free cheeseburger, non-fat low sugar iced coffee and my Boston Pops concert watched from the comfort of my central air-conditioned living room on my husband's laptop for the local, not national broadcast this year.
'Cause while some things change, others can and should remain the same....
and I didn't miss the class on that!
links:
http://www.archives.gov/exhibits/charters/declaration.html
http://www.pbs.org/civilwar/war/ballou_letter.html
http://www.jeffshaara.com/the_killer_angels.asp
http://www.history.navy.mil/ussconstitution/
http://www.july4th.org
This is specifically to assure you that my children do NOT think that the 4th of July is only about burgers, fireworks and the Boston Pops.
Nope. For this history geek's family the following also holds true for the week of the 4th:
New T-shirts.
A Mega Movie Marathon.
A tacky flag shaped jello-salad will appear at some cook-out, at some point in the week.
You are allowed to shout the following ..."Huzzah! Her sides are made of iron!!" when your mother makes her morning appearance.
Yup. In my brain this makes perfect sense.
I skip the everyoneweargreenandred family Christmas photo.
I skip the everyonewearkhakianddenim family portrait photo.
I skip just about every holiday themed family photo op there is on the calendar....
....except July 4th.
For July 4th I will begin my search 8 weeks in advance for the most competitively priced patriotic themed T-shirts and then make my family keep their red, white and blue shirts in their dresser drawer until July 4th. NO ONE is allowed to wear the shirt until the specified day. Then, they must wear the shirt ALL DAY on the 4th.
Nothing says Independence Day Fun like a T-shirt that has absorbed the odors of grill, catsup, potato salad, orange soda, bug spray, sun screen and gun powder smoke, with a little pre-teen deodorant forgetfulness thrown in for good measure.
Most people associate the fourth day of July with the signing of the Declaration of Independence in 1776. Technicalities aside, the fourth was a very key day in that document's history, so we can go with that.
In my family, however, we also choose to remember the three day battle that took place in a tiny little town in Pennsylvania on July 1-3,1863: Gettysburg. We watch the movies Gods and Generals, Gettysburg, and maybe some segments of the Ken Burns documentary The Civil War. To the extent that some of us can quote the Chamberlain brothers, Lee, Pickett, Jackson and Sullivan Ballou's letter home before the battle of Bull Run..... but I'm not mentioning names....even if my children still roll their eyes....
For whatever cook-out/potluck we attend for the holiday I will usually commit to bringing my jello-salad set in the mold shape of a waving flag. Using strawberry flavored jello, blueberries and whipped cream, I can create a fairly good representation of Old Glory. As long as I don't try to take the jello out of the mold.....ever. We just decorate it and serve it form the mold itself....something about not letting the flag touch the ground...even in jello form....sigh.
About the Huzzah.....
You see, one of my favorite time periods in United States history is the War of 1812. Think...making sure the British really were convinced that we were serious in 1776 about that whole free and independent thing.
While I am almost certain that I can come up with something significant that happened in that war on a July 4th, I'm not sure that it really matters for this.
This is the day my favorite piece of U.S.history comes alive. The U.S.S. Constitution, one of the first six frigates in the United States Navy, and the oldest commissioned, naval ship afloat takes a cruise around her host harbor every year on the 4th. She parades through the harbor, fires her cannon in salute and reminds us all that history can indeed reach out from the past to touch us in the present.
Her nick-name is "Old Ironsides" due to the fact that cannon balls would literally bounce off her hull during battle. Hence the quote from a 19th century sailor greeting me some mornings in my caffeine deprived stupor.
Why would a mother allow her children to shout such things at her, comparing her to an inanimate object?
Well, this particular inanimate object is:
1) over 200 years old and still not retired
2) undefeated in battle
3) the recipient of multi-million dollar restorations to keep her in tip-top shape
Who wouldn't want to be referred to as such????
Oh, Yeah,...She also lives at the Charlestown Navy Yard, in Boston Harbor ;)
Which brings me back to my gluten free cheeseburger, non-fat low sugar iced coffee and my Boston Pops concert watched from the comfort of my central air-conditioned living room on my husband's laptop for the local, not national broadcast this year.
'Cause while some things change, others can and should remain the same....
and I didn't miss the class on that!
links:
http://www.archives.gov/exhibits/charters/declaration.html
http://www.pbs.org/civilwar/war/ballou_letter.html
http://www.jeffshaara.com/the_killer_angels.asp
http://www.history.navy.mil/ussconstitution/
http://www.july4th.org
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
How to celebrate the Fourth of July
(part 1)
....at least, others may think so.....
Growing up in the Boston area the 4th of July was "kind of" a big deal. After all, Boston was one of the centers of colonial dis-satisfaction and home of some the more colorfulrabble rousers Founding Fathers of the American Revolution. It is also the home of the Boston Pops and their annual concert on the Esplanade. With conductors like Arthur Feidler, John Williams and Keith Lockhart, this local tradition turned into a nationally televised event.
One that many of us avoided like the Bubonic Plague.
Watching the preparations could be fascinating. The fireworks barge being set up on the Charles River, road traffic being re-routed, spectators camping out in the wee hours of a muggy July morning in front of the Hatch Shell to claim a spot of lawn with their picnic blankets. There was also the prospect oflaughing at watching all the tourists try to figure out how to navigate the maze of roads and decipher the weird unique dialect that makes Boston such a frustrating fun town to visit.
Did I mention the spectators? As in the MANY spectators? As in the thousands of spectators who crowded the trains, buses and trolleys of an already crowded public transportation system? At rush hour.
Did I mention the humidity? As in the HIGH humidity? As in the sticky, clinging, oppressive, makes you glad for just a puff of breeze mugginess that comes from living in a cement jungle next to a large body of water?
Did I mention the tourists? As in the CONFUSED tourists? As in the lost, dazed, befuddled, can't figure out rotaries, trains, or how to parallel pahk a cah tourists?
Plus the fact that my parents had 4 kids to corral, none of us being particularly good at sitting on a picnic blanket for hours on end waiting for a bunch of people with instruments to start playing music we weren't ready to appreciate at an hour when we were normally in bed.
So we did what many of the locals do on the 4th ....let friends from out of town park in our driveway so they can brave the public and the public transportation system, then sit in the fan-cooled living room with our burgers, corn on the cob and non-sweetened ice tea or coma inducing sweetened iced coffee.
And watch the entire concert, complete with the 1812 Overture and fireworks galore.......that was happening within a few miles of our house.......on T.V.
Thanks to my parents wisdom in skipping a potentially scarring event on our country's birthday, I now love celebrating July 4th. So much so that I could have a weeks worth of activities planned to celebrate the birth of our country and the many other key events in our history that center around this one day in July.
And I can still watch the Boston Pops, with my buger and iced coffee.....on T.V.
...'cause I didn't miss the class on that!
....at least, others may think so.....
Growing up in the Boston area the 4th of July was "kind of" a big deal. After all, Boston was one of the centers of colonial dis-satisfaction and home of some the more colorful
One that many of us avoided like the Bubonic Plague.
Watching the preparations could be fascinating. The fireworks barge being set up on the Charles River, road traffic being re-routed, spectators camping out in the wee hours of a muggy July morning in front of the Hatch Shell to claim a spot of lawn with their picnic blankets. There was also the prospect of
Did I mention the spectators? As in the MANY spectators? As in the thousands of spectators who crowded the trains, buses and trolleys of an already crowded public transportation system? At rush hour.
Did I mention the humidity? As in the HIGH humidity? As in the sticky, clinging, oppressive, makes you glad for just a puff of breeze mugginess that comes from living in a cement jungle next to a large body of water?
Did I mention the tourists? As in the CONFUSED tourists? As in the lost, dazed, befuddled, can't figure out rotaries, trains, or how to parallel pahk a cah tourists?
Plus the fact that my parents had 4 kids to corral, none of us being particularly good at sitting on a picnic blanket for hours on end waiting for a bunch of people with instruments to start playing music we weren't ready to appreciate at an hour when we were normally in bed.
So we did what many of the locals do on the 4th ....let friends from out of town park in our driveway so they can brave the public and the public transportation system, then sit in the fan-cooled living room with our burgers, corn on the cob and non-sweetened ice tea or coma inducing sweetened iced coffee.
And watch the entire concert, complete with the 1812 Overture and fireworks galore.......that was happening within a few miles of our house.......on T.V.
Thanks to my parents wisdom in skipping a potentially scarring event on our country's birthday, I now love celebrating July 4th. So much so that I could have a weeks worth of activities planned to celebrate the birth of our country and the many other key events in our history that center around this one day in July.
And I can still watch the Boston Pops, with my buger and iced coffee.....on T.V.
...'cause I didn't miss the class on that!
Monday, June 10, 2013
surreal experiences, part 2
I have been blessed with many experiences that might fall under the label of "surreal". They usualy center around visiting historical sites, or physically beautiful locations.
For example..it is surreal to walk the streets of Pompeii..knowing how many people died there, and how much of the city was burried for so long.
It is also surreal to stand in the Anne Frank house/museum, or walk through the annex where they hid, knowing that you are standing in the same place that the SS stood when they arrested those that were in hiding.
Surreal is also the word I would use when standing at the edge of a stormy Atlantic coastline or looking up into the vastness of the night sky and feeling just how small and insignificant you are in comparison to the forces of nature.
Surreal also describes the events that were unfolding in Boston on April 15.
You see...someone picked on my city....and there was nothing I could do about it.
(Boston skyline July 4, 2012)
And I had the stomach flu.
And I was over 1,000 miles away.
And I was leaving for a vacation.
So in addition to running to the bathroom, running the kids to their activities and running to the store for last minute items, I was also running down to my "office" to check news website updates, running to the phone to call and check on family, and running to turn up the volume on the kitchen radio when the next newscast was scheduled.
And realizing that at least I could still "run"........
Yes, my family members were all OK. No danger of any of us actually qualifying to run the Boston Marathon, or being caught anywhere near downtown and all the crowds. It was Patriot's Day and many had the day off and opted to watch the race on television.
Yes, people my family knew that were running were unharmed.
Yes, I let my kids watch and listen to some of the media coverage.
They knew something awful had happened in mom's hometown
near where their grandparents live
near where we had vacationed last summer
("Old" State House Boston, MA July 4, 2012)
'
They are old enough to know that evil exists, and need to know that evil does not get to triumph.
So we packed our suitcases, listened to news updates, prayed for the victims and first responders and headed south for a belated Spring Break. Because there was nothing else we could do.
In my mind I was prepared for the investigation and hunt for suspects to stretch on for at least a year. Surely the culprits were half-way across the globe by the time the 16th rolled around.
Surely this would require the co-ordination of multiple international law inforcement agencies.
Surely this would not hit any closer to home.
Surely....NOT.
April 19 SHOULD have been the day we went to go play, care free, in the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico.
April 19 SHOULD have been the day I could finally take a deep breath and feel like I was on vacation.
April 19 SHOULD NOT have been the day I had the following surreal conversation with my parents:
Me: Hey! What are you guys doing up there????
Parents: Locking the doors and hoping our neighborhood doesn't show up next on the news. What are you doing?
Me: Watching t.v. hoping your neighborhood doesn't show up on the news... and getting ready to go to the beach before it gets too hot.
Parents: Wow, rough life. It's too cold up here for beach weather.
Me: Have you heard from ****? (brother who lives IN the town of the man-hunt)
Parents: No, but he usualy doesn't get up for a few hours. Or unless the Police have to crash his door down today.
Me: OK. Lock your doors and duck your heads. We're heading out. Bye.
See...surreal....Who has a conversation with their parents about local man-hunts and Spring Break beach trips???
So while I wrestled in my head with the chaos that was Boston and the tranquility that was South Florida, we did the following:
Walked on the beach
Played in the surf
Enjoyed the wild-life
Dug our toes in the warm sand
and only twice did I surreptitiously check my husband's smart phone for live updates or my not-so-smart-phone for calls from family.
When we returned to our home-base for the week, I did give in to the news junkie in me, and kept my husband's laptop open to that social network site, and a news site or two...or four.....
I did my best to not let this disrupt our rare family vacation moment and yet still keep tabs on what I could not control. I'm not sure I succeeded on either front.
I am thankful that most of the drama is over, that the immediate danger has passed...for now....
I know that there are many, many more people who lived an infinitly more surreal week than I.
Those people have a myriad of difficult and life-altering decisions to make in the times to come.
I, however, am left with only one surreal decision to make:
What size Kevlar vests to order for my parent's Christmas present.....
'cause I missed the class on that.
I have been blessed with many experiences that might fall under the label of "surreal". They usualy center around visiting historical sites, or physically beautiful locations.
For example..it is surreal to walk the streets of Pompeii..knowing how many people died there, and how much of the city was burried for so long.
It is also surreal to stand in the Anne Frank house/museum, or walk through the annex where they hid, knowing that you are standing in the same place that the SS stood when they arrested those that were in hiding.
Surreal is also the word I would use when standing at the edge of a stormy Atlantic coastline or looking up into the vastness of the night sky and feeling just how small and insignificant you are in comparison to the forces of nature.
Surreal also describes the events that were unfolding in Boston on April 15.
You see...someone picked on my city....and there was nothing I could do about it.
And I had the stomach flu.
And I was over 1,000 miles away.
And I was leaving for a vacation.
So in addition to running to the bathroom, running the kids to their activities and running to the store for last minute items, I was also running down to my "office" to check news website updates, running to the phone to call and check on family, and running to turn up the volume on the kitchen radio when the next newscast was scheduled.
And realizing that at least I could still "run"........
Yes, my family members were all OK. No danger of any of us actually qualifying to run the Boston Marathon, or being caught anywhere near downtown and all the crowds. It was Patriot's Day and many had the day off and opted to watch the race on television.
Yes, people my family knew that were running were unharmed.
Yes, I let my kids watch and listen to some of the media coverage.
They knew something awful had happened in mom's hometown
near where their grandparents live
near where we had vacationed last summer
They are old enough to know that evil exists, and need to know that evil does not get to triumph.
So we packed our suitcases, listened to news updates, prayed for the victims and first responders and headed south for a belated Spring Break. Because there was nothing else we could do.
In my mind I was prepared for the investigation and hunt for suspects to stretch on for at least a year. Surely the culprits were half-way across the globe by the time the 16th rolled around.
Surely this would require the co-ordination of multiple international law inforcement agencies.
Surely this would not hit any closer to home.
Surely....NOT.
April 19 SHOULD have been the day we went to go play, care free, in the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico.
April 19 SHOULD have been the day I could finally take a deep breath and feel like I was on vacation.
April 19 SHOULD NOT have been the day I had the following surreal conversation with my parents:
Me: Hey! What are you guys doing up there????
Parents: Locking the doors and hoping our neighborhood doesn't show up next on the news. What are you doing?
Me: Watching t.v. hoping your neighborhood doesn't show up on the news... and getting ready to go to the beach before it gets too hot.
Parents: Wow, rough life. It's too cold up here for beach weather.
Me: Have you heard from ****? (brother who lives IN the town of the man-hunt)
Parents: No, but he usualy doesn't get up for a few hours. Or unless the Police have to crash his door down today.
Me: OK. Lock your doors and duck your heads. We're heading out. Bye.
See...surreal....Who has a conversation with their parents about local man-hunts and Spring Break beach trips???
Walked on the beach
Played in the surf
Enjoyed the wild-life
When we returned to our home-base for the week, I did give in to the news junkie in me, and kept my husband's laptop open to that social network site, and a news site or two...or four.....
I did my best to not let this disrupt our rare family vacation moment and yet still keep tabs on what I could not control. I'm not sure I succeeded on either front.
I am thankful that most of the drama is over, that the immediate danger has passed...for now....
I know that there are many, many more people who lived an infinitly more surreal week than I.
Those people have a myriad of difficult and life-altering decisions to make in the times to come.
I, however, am left with only one surreal decision to make:
What size Kevlar vests to order for my parent's Christmas present.....
'cause I missed the class on that.
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