My dad was a gadget man and he liked to try out new things. When we were growing up he collected them like people collect stamps. He had hotdog cookers, crepe makers, milkshake machines and so on. Some got relegated to the basement and a few are still in mom's cabinets. His last fancy was some sort of software he and Uncle Cal found on the internet so they could talk to each other over the computer (back around 2000). Since I worked on a computer all day long I was a good person to experiment with. Both of them were calling me while I was working. I had this crazy laptop that had the speakers coming out the bottom. I remember hearing dad’s muffled voice while I was typing. I had to tip the computer over sideways and talk to him through the bottom. There was an easier way invented in the 1870’s called the telephone.
I am my father’s daughter and I inherited the desire for the unusual and a willingness to try anything once. You never know some of the crazy things actually work. In the last year I’ve gotten two great microwave inventions, one for steaming and one for pressure cooking, you know the kind of stuff I’m talking about…”14.99 if you call now!”. A few of my gadgets from this year are collecting dust in the barn or in a box of kitchen stuff I never use. That box is collecting dust bunnies under our bed. I don’t think I will be able to put my latest contraption under the bed if it doesn’t work out. Thank-goodness for E-bay, dad didn’t have it but I do. I bought the thing on E-bay and can surely sell it there.
You need a little history to fathom why I bought what I did. Somewhere along the way Jeff told our friend Ray that horses produce 40 pounds of poop a day. Ray wonders what we do with all that poop. I wonder what we do with all that poop; with two horses that amounts to 29,200 pounds a year. Last summer I tried composting some of it. I mixed up a cart full of poop with a cart full of old hay and a cart full of leaves. Once a week Sadie and I went down to the poop pile and flipped it around. Summer turned into fall and I forgot about my poop project.
This spring I needed some compost for the trees we planted and remembered the poop project. Sadie and I headed down back to the pile and were disappointed; the top of the pile looked the same as it did last summer. I jabbed at it with my pitch fork and to our amazement underneath the top layer was black, crumbly, rich compost.
My mind was at work while we mulched the new trees. How much compost can I make with 29,200 pounds of poop and what is the easiest way to do this? The answer was a few clicks on the internet: The Compost Tumbler: Makes Compost in 14 Days! On the web site you get the Tumbler, the thermometer and the activator for one not so low price. In that respect I am not like my dad, he would have bought it anyway. I switched personalities and became my mother’s daughter and searched for tumblers on E-bay. After watching for a few weeks I found a used one. The lady advertising it said it didn’t work out for them. I switched back to being my father’s daughter, bid on it anyway and won the auction. I mean really, I have composting experience and how could this thing not work.
The Compost Tumbler arrived on Thursday. Like my dad, I have a knack for getting other people to help me out with my schemes. Jeff put the tumbler together for me and set it up near the garden. Following the directions in the manual, we raked up the right combination of fresh grass clippings from the pasture, old leaves and horse poop. He mowed over them to mulch them up and helped me get one load of it into the Tumbler. Hmmm, the thing has to be 2/3 full and one load barely hit the ¼ mark. At that point I lost my helper.
Saturday morning I raked up three loads of grass, a load of old hay, a load of leaves and a load of horse poop. I mulched it all down with the lawnmowers and used enough gas to buy the equivalent of 10+ bags of cow compost at Lowes. After 4 hours of work, blisters on my hands and a sunburned nose the Compost Tumbler is loaded. All I have to do now is rotate the drum 5 times a day for the next 14 days. In the mean time I’ll be thinking about an easier way to get all this stuff into the Tumbler. I wish my dad was here, I’m sure he would have some ideas!
The Sadie Lady
Sadie is waiting patiently for her new friend!
Days Since LID
Showing posts with label Musings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Musings. Show all posts
Monday, May 19, 2008
My Father's Daughter
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Cowpens Battlefield
Today we took Chase and Sadie to Cowpens Battlefield in Cowpens SC. It's about 30 minutes from our house. I know that's a weird name for a town. I thought it was odd the first time I heard it and you can imagine what went through my mind when I envisioned a town named Cowpens. Now, whenever I mention it to other people they almost always say, "Cowpens? Why'd they name a town that?" So here is the rest of the story:
If you didn't know, South Carolina had more Revolutionary War battles than any of the other states. Several of them were significant turning points in the war, including the battle at Cowpens led by General Daniel Morgan. The term cowpens referred to a local grazing area for free-range cattle at the time. Before the days of the Internet, the General Morgan's message swept across the Carolina countryside, "Meet us at cowpens!"
Through an ingenious plan Morgan composed the front line with the local patriot militia. The British under Colonel Tarleton sensing an easy victory advanced on the line. Morgan ordered the front to fall back and then on the next hill the British found themselves facing the Continental Army in full force. The Revolutionaries lost 72 men at Cowpens on Jan. 17, 1781 to the 600 losses in the British Army. Colonel Tarleton was sent fleeing into the hills. The overwhelming victory at Cowpens gave hope to the Patriots and changed the course of the Revolutionary War!
Sunday, August 19, 2007
The Ninth Circle of Hell
Yesterday our local newspaper printed a piece (author not identified) summarizing two new bills designed at protecting the rights of commercial airline passengers. It said, "both bills wisely avoid imposing financial penalties on the airline industry, which would be the legislative equivalent of pushing a drowning man underwater." I laughed so hard that Sadie came running to the couch thinking her momma was having some sort of attack. I yelled to Jeff, "Hey you gotta read this one honey. It says that a trip to the airport is like going to the ninth circle of hell!"
I haven't read much classical literature lately, but I know the reference is to Dante's Inferno. In his poem Dante described various circles of hell. The ninth circle being the last and final
circle; the place where the worst punishments are found. I have new information for the writer of the editorial; Hell has recently completed construction of the new and improved tenth circle for airline passengers and Satan personally invited me to attend the grand opening on my recent trip back home to Missouri.
I will take full responsibility for the one sin I committed in booking my trip to Missouri. I booked a flight that left Charlotte at 5 pm. Any seasoned traveler will tell you to book the earliest flights in the day. You are less apt to be caught in the downward spiral of delays that leave the late afternoon flights teetering on the brink of cancellation.
My flight was delayed 20 minutes out of Charlotte then when we landed in Memphis air traffic control held us outside the gate because another plane had parked in our spot. The flight attendant politely asked that all passengers remain seated and allow those with tight connections to disembark first. I felt like the first leg in a relay race. My seated team mates cheered me on as I sprinted off the plane, "Run fast, you can make it."
As I approached the gate I heard someone yell, "The plane's still here, hurry, hurry!" A jolt of adrenaline shot me past the runner that I had been jockeying with for position since I started the race. The gate area was crammed with 25 red-faced, hypoxic passengers. One brave soul stood at the ticket counter. His chest heaved and his shoulders slumped under the weight of a heavy carry-on. We crowded behind him apprehensively waiting our fate, heaven or hell.
"I'm sorry but the door is closed," said the gate agent nodding her head in the direction of the jet way door.
"No, no! The plane's still here," screamed the condemned, "Open the door, just open the door". If I remembered right all you have to do on earth is turn the doorknob and push, but we had started our descent into Hell and physics are different there. “It’s no wonder they’re all going bankrupt,” I muttered as I joined the other 25 members of the chain gang heading for the ticket desk to be re-booked.
“The 8 am non-stop flight to Kansas City is sold out,” said the ticket clerk.
“When is the next one?” I asked.
“There’s a non-stop flight that leaves around 2 pm.”
“That’s too late, I have someone meeting me in St. Joseph at 4 pm.”
“There’s a 6 am flight, but you have to connect in Detroit, gets in KC around 13:10.”
I calculated the time it would take me to get to St. Joseph, stop at Wal-Mart to pick up a few things I needed, unpack my saddle and re-pack my clothes in Rubbermaid tote boxes before Sherrie picked me up at 4 pm. It would be a close call. If there was one single flight delay I was sunk, but it was possible, “Can you get me a hotel room for tonight?”
“Sorry it’s Elvis Week and all the hotels are booked. I'll give you 125 dollars if you can find a hotel,” she said while tapping away on her keyboard.
I had no desire to find a hotel located on the outskirts of Memphis or to sleep in an airport chair…all on the off chance that a 6 am flight might get to Kansas City on time. I called Jeff back for the third time. He is always thinking ahead and said, “I reserved a car for you at Hertz. It’s an 8 hour drive to Kansas City. If you leave now and stop along the way to get some sleep you can still be home by 10 am.”
The ticket agent handed me a form as I asked for directions to the car rental area, “Fill this out, you might get a refund for the non-used portion of your ticket. Don’t expect to hear anything for at least 6 weeks.”
And so I began my journey out of airport Hell. The drive from Memphis was wonderful and the next post will be dedicated to that trip, but now for the rest of the story. I reached Kansas City International airport at 10 am to pick up my bags. The Memphis ticket agent had assured me they would be on the "sold out" 8 am flight. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw them propped up against a wall in the baggage claim office. Out of curiosity I asked the clerk when my bags arrived. He smiled and said, “They got here last night”
I shook my head as I walked out of the office. I guess in Hell they can open an airplane door for bags, just not people. I dropped the car off at Hertz, stood outside in the sweltering heat and waited for mom to pick me up.
Now you would think that is the end of my experience into the tenth circle of Hell. But since I escaped once, the devil knew he had one last shot: my trip home. I didn’t commit any sins on this one. I booked the earliest flight out of Kansas City. Here's the abbreviated details:
08:20 landed in Memphis;
09:15 boarded plane for Charlotte;
09:40 pushed back from the gate;
09:50 returned to the gate;
10:05 pilot told us to disembark, mechanical delay;
11:00 got a 10 $ coupon for lunch, courtesy of airline (the equivalent of buying a Diet Coke in an airport);
13:00 finished reading all the magazines in my carry-on;
13:30 called Carla (she and Frank left Kansas City International an hour after I did this morning for a trip to Mexico). They’ll be in Puerto Vallarta before I get to Charlotte;
14:00 got back on the repaired plane. Called Jeff, “They said they were going to get us out of here ASAP, flight time is about 1.5 hours. Gotta turn off the phone.”;
14:15 sitting on the tarmac;
14:30 sitting on the tarmac;
14:45 plane took off. I reset my watch. Its 15:45 Charlotte time;
17:15 arrived in Charlotte;
17:45 picked my bags up.
At the passenger pick up area I was met by an impatient black doggie and a slightly frazzled husband who said, “I hate to tell you but I looked on the internet, if you had rented a car when you got to Memphis you would have been home by now!”
Sidebar: In 1995 there were 443 flights that were delayed over 3 hours; in June of 2007 alone 462 flights were delayed. In March 2007 I sat for five hours in Charlotte waiting on a plane bound for Portland ME. In December 2006 Jeff and I were scheduled for a flight with an arrival time in Kansas City around 5:30 pm, we got in at 10 pm and missed getting to eat dinner at our favorite KC restaurant, Garazzo’s. We got our lost luggage the day before we went back home.
Frank flew to Pennsylvania this week for a work meeting. He called Carla Friday night to let her know the flight crew had gone missing in Atlanta and the flight was delayed for at least an hour. This year I turned down a job at the premier Baylor University Medical Center in Dallas. The glitch, they wanted someone on-site every week. If you have the audacity to ask me why I turned down the job, go ahead I dare you! :)
I haven't read much classical literature lately, but I know the reference is to Dante's Inferno. In his poem Dante described various circles of hell. The ninth circle being the last and final
circle; the place where the worst punishments are found. I have new information for the writer of the editorial; Hell has recently completed construction of the new and improved tenth circle for airline passengers and Satan personally invited me to attend the grand opening on my recent trip back home to Missouri.
I will take full responsibility for the one sin I committed in booking my trip to Missouri. I booked a flight that left Charlotte at 5 pm. Any seasoned traveler will tell you to book the earliest flights in the day. You are less apt to be caught in the downward spiral of delays that leave the late afternoon flights teetering on the brink of cancellation.
My flight was delayed 20 minutes out of Charlotte then when we landed in Memphis air traffic control held us outside the gate because another plane had parked in our spot. The flight attendant politely asked that all passengers remain seated and allow those with tight connections to disembark first. I felt like the first leg in a relay race. My seated team mates cheered me on as I sprinted off the plane, "Run fast, you can make it."
As I approached the gate I heard someone yell, "The plane's still here, hurry, hurry!" A jolt of adrenaline shot me past the runner that I had been jockeying with for position since I started the race. The gate area was crammed with 25 red-faced, hypoxic passengers. One brave soul stood at the ticket counter. His chest heaved and his shoulders slumped under the weight of a heavy carry-on. We crowded behind him apprehensively waiting our fate, heaven or hell.
"I'm sorry but the door is closed," said the gate agent nodding her head in the direction of the jet way door.
"No, no! The plane's still here," screamed the condemned, "Open the door, just open the door". If I remembered right all you have to do on earth is turn the doorknob and push, but we had started our descent into Hell and physics are different there. “It’s no wonder they’re all going bankrupt,” I muttered as I joined the other 25 members of the chain gang heading for the ticket desk to be re-booked.
“The 8 am non-stop flight to Kansas City is sold out,” said the ticket clerk.
“When is the next one?” I asked.
“There’s a non-stop flight that leaves around 2 pm.”
“That’s too late, I have someone meeting me in St. Joseph at 4 pm.”
“There’s a 6 am flight, but you have to connect in Detroit, gets in KC around 13:10.”
I calculated the time it would take me to get to St. Joseph, stop at Wal-Mart to pick up a few things I needed, unpack my saddle and re-pack my clothes in Rubbermaid tote boxes before Sherrie picked me up at 4 pm. It would be a close call. If there was one single flight delay I was sunk, but it was possible, “Can you get me a hotel room for tonight?”
“Sorry it’s Elvis Week and all the hotels are booked. I'll give you 125 dollars if you can find a hotel,” she said while tapping away on her keyboard.
I had no desire to find a hotel located on the outskirts of Memphis or to sleep in an airport chair…all on the off chance that a 6 am flight might get to Kansas City on time. I called Jeff back for the third time. He is always thinking ahead and said, “I reserved a car for you at Hertz. It’s an 8 hour drive to Kansas City. If you leave now and stop along the way to get some sleep you can still be home by 10 am.”
The ticket agent handed me a form as I asked for directions to the car rental area, “Fill this out, you might get a refund for the non-used portion of your ticket. Don’t expect to hear anything for at least 6 weeks.”
And so I began my journey out of airport Hell. The drive from Memphis was wonderful and the next post will be dedicated to that trip, but now for the rest of the story. I reached Kansas City International airport at 10 am to pick up my bags. The Memphis ticket agent had assured me they would be on the "sold out" 8 am flight. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw them propped up against a wall in the baggage claim office. Out of curiosity I asked the clerk when my bags arrived. He smiled and said, “They got here last night”
I shook my head as I walked out of the office. I guess in Hell they can open an airplane door for bags, just not people. I dropped the car off at Hertz, stood outside in the sweltering heat and waited for mom to pick me up.
Now you would think that is the end of my experience into the tenth circle of Hell. But since I escaped once, the devil knew he had one last shot: my trip home. I didn’t commit any sins on this one. I booked the earliest flight out of Kansas City. Here's the abbreviated details:
08:20 landed in Memphis;
09:15 boarded plane for Charlotte;
09:40 pushed back from the gate;
09:50 returned to the gate;
10:05 pilot told us to disembark, mechanical delay;
11:00 got a 10 $ coupon for lunch, courtesy of airline (the equivalent of buying a Diet Coke in an airport);
13:00 finished reading all the magazines in my carry-on;
13:30 called Carla (she and Frank left Kansas City International an hour after I did this morning for a trip to Mexico). They’ll be in Puerto Vallarta before I get to Charlotte;
14:00 got back on the repaired plane. Called Jeff, “They said they were going to get us out of here ASAP, flight time is about 1.5 hours. Gotta turn off the phone.”;
14:15 sitting on the tarmac;
14:30 sitting on the tarmac;
14:45 plane took off. I reset my watch. Its 15:45 Charlotte time;
17:15 arrived in Charlotte;
17:45 picked my bags up.
At the passenger pick up area I was met by an impatient black doggie and a slightly frazzled husband who said, “I hate to tell you but I looked on the internet, if you had rented a car when you got to Memphis you would have been home by now!”
Sidebar: In 1995 there were 443 flights that were delayed over 3 hours; in June of 2007 alone 462 flights were delayed. In March 2007 I sat for five hours in Charlotte waiting on a plane bound for Portland ME. In December 2006 Jeff and I were scheduled for a flight with an arrival time in Kansas City around 5:30 pm, we got in at 10 pm and missed getting to eat dinner at our favorite KC restaurant, Garazzo’s. We got our lost luggage the day before we went back home.
Frank flew to Pennsylvania this week for a work meeting. He called Carla Friday night to let her know the flight crew had gone missing in Atlanta and the flight was delayed for at least an hour. This year I turned down a job at the premier Baylor University Medical Center in Dallas. The glitch, they wanted someone on-site every week. If you have the audacity to ask me why I turned down the job, go ahead I dare you! :)
Friday, June 29, 2007
Common Sense Flees America
The American Medical Association is urging the American Psychiatric Association to include in its mental illness manual "video game addiction" and the APA is considering it. The AMA wants to raise awareness of the issue and enable the addicted to get insurance coverage for treatment. This article was published in the Sunday paper last week. It went on to say that this addiction can be similar to a heroin addiction. A follow-up is scheduled this week on a nightly news programs.
The article cited a mother in Texas that complained that her teenage son's video game addiction caused him to fail two classes in school and become a recluse. Her picture was plastered in the headline and I actually felt sorry for her. I wondered was she embarrassed by the quote? I wondered how many times she went to the local video store and rented computer games for her son? If I gave my child heroin everyday and let them use it in the living room, would it dawn on me that I might be part of the problem. Most importantly I wondered if she realized many Americans would ask why she didn't unplug the computer and throw it in the trash heap a long time ago.
This is just another sign that America's thinking patterns are flawed and our common sense has deteriorated to the point of non-existence. Rather than accept parental responsibility it is easier to avoid it and have someone else pay for the outcome. Is it any wonder that health insurance in America is the most expensive in the world and that the average working class citizen can't afford it? Now we have what is supposed to be one of most well respected professional organizations in America, the AMA, devising a plan for insurance companies to foot another bill.
The amount of money spent researching the data for the AMA's report, reporting the story and making it the headline issue on a nightly news program could have been used more wisely to actually pay the reasonable medical expenses of someone who can't afford our luxury health care.
This ludicrous story comes on the tail of the recent lawsuit filed by a judge because a "mom and pop" dry cleaning service lost his trousers. We have an unaffordable health care system plagued by abuses of the very people that should be its watch dogs; a legal system back-logged with frivolous lawsuits, including those filed by elected officials who should be discouraging those practices.
Where is the sense in all this? Actually there isn't any, common sense spread her wings and took flight for distant lands leaving our mighty eagle to soar over a nation she no longer recognises.
The article cited a mother in Texas that complained that her teenage son's video game addiction caused him to fail two classes in school and become a recluse. Her picture was plastered in the headline and I actually felt sorry for her. I wondered was she embarrassed by the quote? I wondered how many times she went to the local video store and rented computer games for her son? If I gave my child heroin everyday and let them use it in the living room, would it dawn on me that I might be part of the problem. Most importantly I wondered if she realized many Americans would ask why she didn't unplug the computer and throw it in the trash heap a long time ago.
This is just another sign that America's thinking patterns are flawed and our common sense has deteriorated to the point of non-existence. Rather than accept parental responsibility it is easier to avoid it and have someone else pay for the outcome. Is it any wonder that health insurance in America is the most expensive in the world and that the average working class citizen can't afford it? Now we have what is supposed to be one of most well respected professional organizations in America, the AMA, devising a plan for insurance companies to foot another bill.
The amount of money spent researching the data for the AMA's report, reporting the story and making it the headline issue on a nightly news program could have been used more wisely to actually pay the reasonable medical expenses of someone who can't afford our luxury health care.
This ludicrous story comes on the tail of the recent lawsuit filed by a judge because a "mom and pop" dry cleaning service lost his trousers. We have an unaffordable health care system plagued by abuses of the very people that should be its watch dogs; a legal system back-logged with frivolous lawsuits, including those filed by elected officials who should be discouraging those practices.
Where is the sense in all this? Actually there isn't any, common sense spread her wings and took flight for distant lands leaving our mighty eagle to soar over a nation she no longer recognises.
Monday, June 18, 2007
What's Up with the Blog?
The blog has languished! I've had a few people ask me, "What's going on?" Let me tell you what's going on. Stacey, as usual, has committed herself to more things than one person could possibly accomplish in one month.
In the last month we've been on a trip to NYC (no pics on the blog, yet!) I finished a baby quilt and started another one (insane) for a wedding present, trashed that idea after getting it half done and sent money, the couple would probably rather have that anyway (oh, by the way someone is going to get a nice Christmas present and bribes are acceptable). Joined a quilt block swap group (blocks due by June 30), finished a scrap book that has been haunting me since February (due yesterday), and thought I didn't have enough to do, so I signed up for a writing course!
Sarah and Lance have been here for two week-ends and in the midst of weeding the garden, Sarah said, "You really do too much!" Actually I thought that was a compliment coming from a girl who is never home and has her social event calendar booked till next year.
So yes, I agree I'm trying to do too much, (but it is so fun)! Last night as I was sticking the last quilt block in an envelope, I decided Sarah was right. I'm not saying "yes" to anything else and I'm not volunteering for anything. What I really want to do is write and I've wanted to do that for years! So, my commitment is to writing, which is good for you who are following the blog! I'm real excited about my writing class and sent the first assignment in Saturday! (10 days before it was due, can you believe that!)
So, here's to a New Years resolution a few months late! Writing, Writing, Writing!
Opps! I already broke it. On Friday I'm taking a mare to be bred, so next spring we will have a new little baby in the barn! :-)
In the last month we've been on a trip to NYC (no pics on the blog, yet!) I finished a baby quilt and started another one (insane) for a wedding present, trashed that idea after getting it half done and sent money, the couple would probably rather have that anyway (oh, by the way someone is going to get a nice Christmas present and bribes are acceptable). Joined a quilt block swap group (blocks due by June 30), finished a scrap book that has been haunting me since February (due yesterday), and thought I didn't have enough to do, so I signed up for a writing course!
Sarah and Lance have been here for two week-ends and in the midst of weeding the garden, Sarah said, "You really do too much!" Actually I thought that was a compliment coming from a girl who is never home and has her social event calendar booked till next year.
So yes, I agree I'm trying to do too much, (but it is so fun)! Last night as I was sticking the last quilt block in an envelope, I decided Sarah was right. I'm not saying "yes" to anything else and I'm not volunteering for anything. What I really want to do is write and I've wanted to do that for years! So, my commitment is to writing, which is good for you who are following the blog! I'm real excited about my writing class and sent the first assignment in Saturday! (10 days before it was due, can you believe that!)
So, here's to a New Years resolution a few months late! Writing, Writing, Writing!
Opps! I already broke it. On Friday I'm taking a mare to be bred, so next spring we will have a new little baby in the barn! :-)
Sunday, June 17, 2007
To Kill a Mockingbird
When Harper Lee coined the words "Mockingbirds don't do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don't eat up people's gardens, don't nest in corncribs, they don't do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That's why it's a sin to kill a mockingbird," I'm not sure she was talking about the little booger that has taken up residence in the tree by our driveway.
He is a plagiarizer to the finest degree and his repertoire not only includes songbirds, but frogs, crickets, hawks and I'm sure I've heard him mimic Sami's cheeping (Sami's cage is in the bedroom right across from the tree.)
He's the reason I'm up at 3am on a Sunday morning. Sadie decided she needed to go out and I turned on the garage light. The soloist thought the sun was rising, so I had to stay awhile and listen. Actually he is quite comical and I hope he decides to hang around.
He is a plagiarizer to the finest degree and his repertoire not only includes songbirds, but frogs, crickets, hawks and I'm sure I've heard him mimic Sami's cheeping (Sami's cage is in the bedroom right across from the tree.)
He's the reason I'm up at 3am on a Sunday morning. Sadie decided she needed to go out and I turned on the garage light. The soloist thought the sun was rising, so I had to stay awhile and listen. Actually he is quite comical and I hope he decides to hang around.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Where We Were July 20, 1969
If any of you family readers are wondering why I'm writing about where we were on July 20, 1969, please rewind back to my post on May 8, 2007.
Darling Daughter,
I remember exactly where I was on July 20, 1969. I asked your dad if he remembered where he was and he doesn't. He said it doesn't surprise him that I remember because he says I have the memory of an elephant and continually amaze him with the things I can recall.
My great-grand parents lived on a thousand acre farm near Parkville, MO. Well it seemed like a thousand acres to us kids but, I might be remembering that small detail wrong. Anyway they lived in an old house perched on a hilltop. I was sure the house was haunted, but that is another story for another day. My grandma and grandpa (grandma Roxie's mom and dad) lived on the same farm in a two bedroom trailer down the hill and around a corner.
July 20th was one of the hottest days that summer. It was sticky and overcast. Carla and I and our cousins Nancy, Johnny, and Stevie spent most of the afternoon playing outside, occasionally running inside the trailer to cool off in front of the window unit air conditioner. The air conditioner just happened to be in the living room and with five kids trying to stand in front of it we managed to block the view to the TV set. This irritated Grandpa Fred to some degree and he growled, "You kids need to decide if you are staying inside or going out!".
My dad was infected by grandpa's grouchiness and told us we really ought to stay inside, sit down, and watch TV. Now those are words that we rarely if ever heard from an adult! He continued, "History is in the making! Happening right before your eyes!"
We must have rolled our uninterested eyes at him and went back outside because I don't remember watching TV that afternoon. I hope my dad is proud that even though I didn't watch the news story that was broadcast across the entire world, that I distinctly remember the day and Neil Armstrong's famous phrase, "That's one small step for man; one giant leap for mankind," as he descended from Apollo 11.
Someday when you are in the third or fourth grade, you will come home from school and ask me if your dad and I were alive when man first walked on the moon. Now I know we will seem ancient compared to your friend's parents. I'll smile and say, "Yes sweet pea, we were alive."
You will be able to go to school the next day and amaze and stun your classmates with this information because I'm sure that none of their parents were!
Love,
Mom
Darling Daughter,
I remember exactly where I was on July 20, 1969. I asked your dad if he remembered where he was and he doesn't. He said it doesn't surprise him that I remember because he says I have the memory of an elephant and continually amaze him with the things I can recall.
My great-grand parents lived on a thousand acre farm near Parkville, MO. Well it seemed like a thousand acres to us kids but, I might be remembering that small detail wrong. Anyway they lived in an old house perched on a hilltop. I was sure the house was haunted, but that is another story for another day. My grandma and grandpa (grandma Roxie's mom and dad) lived on the same farm in a two bedroom trailer down the hill and around a corner.
July 20th was one of the hottest days that summer. It was sticky and overcast. Carla and I and our cousins Nancy, Johnny, and Stevie spent most of the afternoon playing outside, occasionally running inside the trailer to cool off in front of the window unit air conditioner. The air conditioner just happened to be in the living room and with five kids trying to stand in front of it we managed to block the view to the TV set. This irritated Grandpa Fred to some degree and he growled, "You kids need to decide if you are staying inside or going out!".
My dad was infected by grandpa's grouchiness and told us we really ought to stay inside, sit down, and watch TV. Now those are words that we rarely if ever heard from an adult! He continued, "History is in the making! Happening right before your eyes!"
We must have rolled our uninterested eyes at him and went back outside because I don't remember watching TV that afternoon. I hope my dad is proud that even though I didn't watch the news story that was broadcast across the entire world, that I distinctly remember the day and Neil Armstrong's famous phrase, "That's one small step for man; one giant leap for mankind," as he descended from Apollo 11.
Someday when you are in the third or fourth grade, you will come home from school and ask me if your dad and I were alive when man first walked on the moon. Now I know we will seem ancient compared to your friend's parents. I'll smile and say, "Yes sweet pea, we were alive."
You will be able to go to school the next day and amaze and stun your classmates with this information because I'm sure that none of their parents were!
Love,
Mom
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Blog Info Turned Love Letter
The first reason we started this blog was to have one place to keep family and friends informed about the adoption. It seemed a better idea than sending out e-mails to everyone. I knew I would forget to add this or that person to the distribution list and I would forget to send a message about this detail or that one. A blog seemed to be the answer.
Then as we joined adoption groups on yahoo and started talking to other parents, we found out that a lot of them make scrap books for their kids documenting the whole process. Well I know the odds of me getting a scrap book done are near next to 0%. I'm not a scrap book person and our photo's are in shoe boxes and zip-loc bags hidden and tucked away all over the house (not including all the pictures saved on our hard drive). In fact I just had to look "scrap book" up in the dictionary and discovered that "scrapbook" is one word. Writing is more up my alley than "cutting and pasting". Therefore, effective today, the focus of this "adoption info" web-site is now "a long letter to our daughter".
Now that sounds like a lot more fun to me than scrapbooks and I have lots of ideas about topics to include: the adoption stuff, stories from our pasts, stories about her relatives, what her daddy and I did during the long wait and who we are. Then, finally I'll download the whole thing into a book. I can handle the technical aspects of book making software, resizing photographs, formatting text, etc., but leave the "scissors" to someone else.
Darling Daughter,
I am saving a bunch of stuff for you in a folder in the file cabinet. Maybe when you are a little older we will sort through it on rainy days and get it into a scrapbook. It would be funner to do it with you anyway.
So we'll start out right now with a little bit about your aunt. Rest assured there will be lots more to come about this girl! Your Aunt Carla spent a small fortune on a scrapbook supplies. I'm sure we can borrow some of it and we will probably be the first ones to tear open the packages of pretty stickers, because as far as I know she has only made one scrapbook page since she got all that stuff. She's not a scrapbook person either; maybe you and your cousin will be the scrapbook people and can organize all our lives in scrapbooks.
Love,
Mom
P.S You'll have to ignore my "run-on" sentences, I'm historically known for them.
Then as we joined adoption groups on yahoo and started talking to other parents, we found out that a lot of them make scrap books for their kids documenting the whole process. Well I know the odds of me getting a scrap book done are near next to 0%. I'm not a scrap book person and our photo's are in shoe boxes and zip-loc bags hidden and tucked away all over the house (not including all the pictures saved on our hard drive). In fact I just had to look "scrap book" up in the dictionary and discovered that "scrapbook" is one word. Writing is more up my alley than "cutting and pasting". Therefore, effective today, the focus of this "adoption info" web-site is now "a long letter to our daughter".
Now that sounds like a lot more fun to me than scrapbooks and I have lots of ideas about topics to include: the adoption stuff, stories from our pasts, stories about her relatives, what her daddy and I did during the long wait and who we are. Then, finally I'll download the whole thing into a book. I can handle the technical aspects of book making software, resizing photographs, formatting text, etc., but leave the "scissors" to someone else.
Darling Daughter,
I am saving a bunch of stuff for you in a folder in the file cabinet. Maybe when you are a little older we will sort through it on rainy days and get it into a scrapbook. It would be funner to do it with you anyway.
So we'll start out right now with a little bit about your aunt. Rest assured there will be lots more to come about this girl! Your Aunt Carla spent a small fortune on a scrapbook supplies. I'm sure we can borrow some of it and we will probably be the first ones to tear open the packages of pretty stickers, because as far as I know she has only made one scrapbook page since she got all that stuff. She's not a scrapbook person either; maybe you and your cousin will be the scrapbook people and can organize all our lives in scrapbooks.
Love,
Mom
P.S You'll have to ignore my "run-on" sentences, I'm historically known for them.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Sadie was a Good Girl!!!
Sadie will be three years old next month. We adopted her from the humane society when she was 8 weeks old. She is of uncertain parentage. The label on the cage door at the pound said "black lab puppy", but we discovered any black canine that comes into the pound is automatically labeled "lab". The only thing Sadie got from the Labrador breed is "black". She doesn't like water, she didn't fill out like a lab, and she doesn't like to venture off the trail into the woods unless Jeff and I go with her. She stays in her own yard, but sometimes sits right on the property line and watches the neighbors.
She has a few neurosis that we have learned to be patient with: loud noises, thunder, has to get a toy from her toy box anytime we say "want to go bye-bye" and she has a ferocious bark and is skittish around people she doesn't know. Once she warms up to you (in her own time) she will love you forever!
We were a little anxious Saturday evening. We had invited friends over to the house for dinner. Bett, their little girl who just turned four, was very excited about petting our horses. She is also scared of strange big dogs. We feared a bad experience on both sides because Sadie has grown up in the home of an adult couple with adult children and adult friends. This would be her first encounter with "little people" and we thought it might be an "omen" of things to come.
Before our company came, I had a little talk with Sadie. I told her "Friends are coming, please no barking and heaven forbid, no growling". We were in utter shock when Steve and Lisa got out of the car. Jeff had Sadie on a leash, but she whined and cried and practically drug him up to Steve and started licking his hand, like they had been friends forever. So it looked like "the talk" worked and Sadie is overcoming her fear of strangers.
Sadie was enamored by Bett. She wanted to play with her. We had to make her "sit, lay down and stay" until Bett got over her fear of the "big black doggie". She especially liked it when Bett was looking at a children's book and singing a little song. She cocked her head this way, then that way. Sadie followed her around all night long or laid under her feet when she was in a chair. It might have helped that Bett was continually giving her bites of a hot dog!
Bett is cute and kids say the darnedest things. When the horses "leisurely" (as horses do), walked up to the fence she said, "That horse is shaking!" I looked at Peanut and sure enough he was shaking... shaking away flies. I had a "face brush", perfect for little hands and Bett enjoyed brushing Skipper and Peanut. She liked Peanut better because "He's a little horse". I guess it is all in the eye's of the beholder. Peanut is shorter than Skipper, but probably outweighs him by a hundred pounds!
Later when we were getting ready for dinner, she heard Sami chirping in the bedroom, so we had to go in and take a look.
"I don't see a birdie," she said as she looked around the floor.
I scooped her up so she could see Sami sitting on top of the cage.
Next question, "How does he get out of the cage?"
"He crawls out of that opening in the top".
Her appraisal of the situation, "I think he needs to go back inside."
Had a fun evening and Sadie sat looking out the window for half an hour after they left, hoping her little friend would come back.
She has a few neurosis that we have learned to be patient with: loud noises, thunder, has to get a toy from her toy box anytime we say "want to go bye-bye" and she has a ferocious bark and is skittish around people she doesn't know. Once she warms up to you (in her own time) she will love you forever!
We were a little anxious Saturday evening. We had invited friends over to the house for dinner. Bett, their little girl who just turned four, was very excited about petting our horses. She is also scared of strange big dogs. We feared a bad experience on both sides because Sadie has grown up in the home of an adult couple with adult children and adult friends. This would be her first encounter with "little people" and we thought it might be an "omen" of things to come.
Before our company came, I had a little talk with Sadie. I told her "Friends are coming, please no barking and heaven forbid, no growling". We were in utter shock when Steve and Lisa got out of the car. Jeff had Sadie on a leash, but she whined and cried and practically drug him up to Steve and started licking his hand, like they had been friends forever. So it looked like "the talk" worked and Sadie is overcoming her fear of strangers.
Sadie was enamored by Bett. She wanted to play with her. We had to make her "sit, lay down and stay" until Bett got over her fear of the "big black doggie". She especially liked it when Bett was looking at a children's book and singing a little song. She cocked her head this way, then that way. Sadie followed her around all night long or laid under her feet when she was in a chair. It might have helped that Bett was continually giving her bites of a hot dog!
Bett is cute and kids say the darnedest things. When the horses "leisurely" (as horses do), walked up to the fence she said, "That horse is shaking!" I looked at Peanut and sure enough he was shaking... shaking away flies. I had a "face brush", perfect for little hands and Bett enjoyed brushing Skipper and Peanut. She liked Peanut better because "He's a little horse". I guess it is all in the eye's of the beholder. Peanut is shorter than Skipper, but probably outweighs him by a hundred pounds!
Later when we were getting ready for dinner, she heard Sami chirping in the bedroom, so we had to go in and take a look.
"I don't see a birdie," she said as she looked around the floor.
I scooped her up so she could see Sami sitting on top of the cage.
Next question, "How does he get out of the cage?"
"He crawls out of that opening in the top".
Her appraisal of the situation, "I think he needs to go back inside."
Had a fun evening and Sadie sat looking out the window for half an hour after they left, hoping her little friend would come back.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Mouth of Wilson Trip (April 1-4, 2007)
Can you imagine the name of your town being "Mouth of Wilson". Hope there are no "Mouth of Wilson" natives out there reading this. I thought it was really weird name for a place when Jeff and I decided to go there for a few days. After we got there we found out that the "Wilson River" runs through town. It is a pretty place and lots of fishermen.
We rented a house there. Didn't really know what it would be like, other than it was close to the Blue Ridge Parkway and much further north than we have explored before. We have gotten pretty familiar with the section of the parkway that is close to where we live. It is not uncommon for us to decide abruptly on a Saturday morning to head there. Just have to throw some Match-light in the trunk and a package of hot dogs in the cooler.
This was a "Sadie Lady" vacation! She loves to get away from the farm. Another reason we picked "Mouth of Wilson" was its close proximity to hiking trails in Grayson Highlands State Park and the connection to the Appalachian Trail.
I picked the house to rent from a selection of available rentals. Didn't read the fine print as to the road conditions getting there. We wound up a 1/4 mile driveway that would not be what most of you think of as a driveway. More like a cattle path. We drove up in the Chevelle and as we were going straight up this hill, Jeff and I both looked at each other and said, "Should have brought the Subaru!"
The house was perched on the top of a hill on 30 acres. Sadie loved it in the daylight, but was a scardy cat when it was dark and wouldn't step off the deck unless Jeff or I went with her. Too many monsters out there lurking in the woods.
Anyway a picture is worth a thousand words, so here are a few from the trip:
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Wild ponies at Wilburn Ridge.
View from Massie Gap
See that red speck in the parking lot: The Chevelle.
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Jeff and Sadie on the Appalachain Trail.
We rented a house there. Didn't really know what it would be like, other than it was close to the Blue Ridge Parkway and much further north than we have explored before. We have gotten pretty familiar with the section of the parkway that is close to where we live. It is not uncommon for us to decide abruptly on a Saturday morning to head there. Just have to throw some Match-light in the trunk and a package of hot dogs in the cooler.
This was a "Sadie Lady" vacation! She loves to get away from the farm. Another reason we picked "Mouth of Wilson" was its close proximity to hiking trails in Grayson Highlands State Park and the connection to the Appalachian Trail.
I picked the house to rent from a selection of available rentals. Didn't read the fine print as to the road conditions getting there. We wound up a 1/4 mile driveway that would not be what most of you think of as a driveway. More like a cattle path. We drove up in the Chevelle and as we were going straight up this hill, Jeff and I both looked at each other and said, "Should have brought the Subaru!"
The house was perched on the top of a hill on 30 acres. Sadie loved it in the daylight, but was a scardy cat when it was dark and wouldn't step off the deck unless Jeff or I went with her. Too many monsters out there lurking in the woods.
Anyway a picture is worth a thousand words, so here are a few from the trip:
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For days when we drove by this farm on the way to Grayson I saw this horse in the pen. Today we found out why (see the little patch of white at her feet). All her equine friends must of stood by during the event. There were several more horses to the left of the picture.
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Sadie and Jeff playing on the lawn of the Blue Ridge Music Center. They weren't open, but we had to stop for a "Sadie Lady" break when we saw the large open area off the parkway.
Sadie is usually very dainty. In fact she has more "little" dog characteristics than "big" dog. She doesn't like getting her feet wet, but it was really hot at Stone Mountain State Park and she discovered that playing in the water was fun.
The last night at the house, it stormed!! Lightening and Thunder! Sadie got us up at 0300 and said "Time to go home!" So we put the coffee on and packed our stuff up and were on the road at 0400. Nice to get home early and have the rest of the day to relax!
Monday, April 16, 2007
Sorry Wrong Number, Wind and Insomnia
An hour ago the phone rang and now I'm up. It rang several times before it shook me out of the deep sleep and weird dream I was having. The older woman on the end of the line asked for Collette. I've heard her voice before and I'm sure she has called in the middle of the night more than once. I mumbled, "Sorry you have the wrong number". At this point, though battling insomnia for years, I was confident I would be able to go back to sleep.
But then, this caller asked me a question, rather she said, "Is it okay if I ask you a question?" My level of consciousness has now jumped to the "fairly alert" end of the scale and I'm wondering what this stranger could possibly want to ask me. She doesn't sound like an obscene caller, she sounds like a grandma. I sighed and out of curiosity said, "yes" and then repeated back to her what she asked, "You want to know what time it is?"
Jeff' groans and I feel him shake his head in exasperation. I can't see the clock from my side of the bed, so I sit up and lean over him. "It's 1:30", I tell her. She says in a very apologetic tone, "Oh, is it 1:30 already, no wonder you're asleep." We said good-night and hung up.
Now, I've moved from "fairly alert" to "fully awake". I clicked the caller ID button and she called from Savannah, GA. Yes, Mrs. Savannah has called here before. I wonder if she was just trying to reach Collete to find out what time it was? I flop back down on the pillow knowing that this was way too much conversation for me to go back to sleep, but I'll try. Jeff's snoring but the talking has woke up "The Sadie Lady" and she wants to go out, I think.
We've had thunderstorms for the last several nights, with the same weather forecast for tonight plus high winds. Several years ago we had a horrendous lightening storm. Sadie and I were looking out the dining room window when lightening hit the transformer in our side yard. I made the mistake of screaming and it scarred Sadie for life. She is deathly afraid of thunder, lightening and fireworks. So, it is not surprising to me (given the weatherman's words of wisdom) that she is pacing the bedroom floor.
She stuck her cold nose on my arm and laid her head on the bed next to my ear and whined. I sit up again and look out the bedroom windows. No lightening that I can see and no thunder that I can hear, but the wind is blowing and the windows are creaking against the strain. Click, click, click, go the toenails on the hard wood floors. Back and forth she goes from the windows to my side of the bed. I get up to see if by chance she just wants to go outside. Nope, didn't think so; when I open the door she hides in the corner.
I flop back in the bed and Jeff starts rubbing my back. I asked him a silly question like the one Mrs. Savannah asked me, "Are you awake?". He mumbles, "Just try to go back to sleep", rolls over and is snoring again in minutes. Now all good insomniacs know the words "go back to sleep" are not a potent sedative.
So I resign myself to getting up. I made coffee while Sadie checked out all the windows and doors. She must have decided the lightening and thunder monsters weren't going to descend on our house anytime soon. She even went outside for a few minutes and came bouncing back when I called her, smiling and wagging her tail the way she does. She's happy to know that "mom" is on storm guard duty. Within minutes she's sleeping soundly on the floor of my office. I can hear Jeff's muffled snoring.....even the wind has gone to sleep...but, the coffee is calling me.....
But then, this caller asked me a question, rather she said, "Is it okay if I ask you a question?" My level of consciousness has now jumped to the "fairly alert" end of the scale and I'm wondering what this stranger could possibly want to ask me. She doesn't sound like an obscene caller, she sounds like a grandma. I sighed and out of curiosity said, "yes" and then repeated back to her what she asked, "You want to know what time it is?"
Jeff' groans and I feel him shake his head in exasperation. I can't see the clock from my side of the bed, so I sit up and lean over him. "It's 1:30", I tell her. She says in a very apologetic tone, "Oh, is it 1:30 already, no wonder you're asleep." We said good-night and hung up.
Now, I've moved from "fairly alert" to "fully awake". I clicked the caller ID button and she called from Savannah, GA. Yes, Mrs. Savannah has called here before. I wonder if she was just trying to reach Collete to find out what time it was? I flop back down on the pillow knowing that this was way too much conversation for me to go back to sleep, but I'll try. Jeff's snoring but the talking has woke up "The Sadie Lady" and she wants to go out, I think.
We've had thunderstorms for the last several nights, with the same weather forecast for tonight plus high winds. Several years ago we had a horrendous lightening storm. Sadie and I were looking out the dining room window when lightening hit the transformer in our side yard. I made the mistake of screaming and it scarred Sadie for life. She is deathly afraid of thunder, lightening and fireworks. So, it is not surprising to me (given the weatherman's words of wisdom) that she is pacing the bedroom floor.
She stuck her cold nose on my arm and laid her head on the bed next to my ear and whined. I sit up again and look out the bedroom windows. No lightening that I can see and no thunder that I can hear, but the wind is blowing and the windows are creaking against the strain. Click, click, click, go the toenails on the hard wood floors. Back and forth she goes from the windows to my side of the bed. I get up to see if by chance she just wants to go outside. Nope, didn't think so; when I open the door she hides in the corner.
I flop back in the bed and Jeff starts rubbing my back. I asked him a silly question like the one Mrs. Savannah asked me, "Are you awake?". He mumbles, "Just try to go back to sleep", rolls over and is snoring again in minutes. Now all good insomniacs know the words "go back to sleep" are not a potent sedative.
So I resign myself to getting up. I made coffee while Sadie checked out all the windows and doors. She must have decided the lightening and thunder monsters weren't going to descend on our house anytime soon. She even went outside for a few minutes and came bouncing back when I called her, smiling and wagging her tail the way she does. She's happy to know that "mom" is on storm guard duty. Within minutes she's sleeping soundly on the floor of my office. I can hear Jeff's muffled snoring.....even the wind has gone to sleep...but, the coffee is calling me.....
Friday, March 9, 2007
Jeff and Sadie Travel to Charleston to get the 171
Well, after many phone calls to find out why it is taking so long for the corrected 171 to reach us, Jeff found out that "the officer" put our completed 171 on the desk of a secretary who is out having major surgery. Unbelievable!! He's had enough of this and talked to a woman yesterday who told him he could come pick it up. He was up at 0530 this morning loading Sadie and Chase in the car and heading for Charleston! He dropped Chase off at his house and met Sarah for lunch, then headed back in time to stop off at the Secretary of State's office to get the 171 certified. Oddly enough he met another couple from Greenville who also had problems getting their 171. They drove to Charleston to get theirs also. So, now the 171 with the correct spelling is on its way to be authenticated in Washington. Chase is back with his "mommy" for awhile and Sadie says any day is a good day if she gets to go "bye bye".
I'm still in Maine and the weather is still bitter cold. Tonight we worked late at the office. The activation is going well, but we are still on 12 hour shifts covering "user help calls". Robin, one of the other consultants I work with, and I are staying at the same hotel across town, but have our own cars since we weren't sure what kind of schedule we would be on. So far we've both been posted at the office all week. We've been leaving at the same time and following each other back to the hotel. I can't imagine having a car breakdown in this weather. Tonight we left around 9pm. The parking garage was deserted and she was behind me when I pulled out of my parking space. I paid the parking attendant and drove slowly down the street waiting for her to catch up. A car pulled out of the garage and zoomed around me on the one way street. I thought that it was odd that she was driving so fast. So when I got to the next traffic light I looked over and realized it wasn't her! I looked in the rear view mirror and the street behind me was isolated. Where did she go? She had got turned around the night before and took a wrong turn going home, so I decided to drive around the block. Still, No Robin anywhere.
I had thrown my briefcase in the trunk, so I pulled into a gas station to get my cell phone out. The wind was whipping around and my fingers were getting numb just trying to get my gloves off so I could dig in my briefcase for the phone. I had a brief thought that I surely didn't want to drop my keys in the trunk. As soon as I did it I knew it was a mistake.... I did what I normally do at home, trying to carry too many groceries in from the car. I grabbed on to the keys with my teeth and they froze to my tongue!! All I can think of is the little boy with his tongue stuck to a pole in "The Christmas Story". After yanking off half the skin on my tongue I called Robin and found out some psycho driver nearly ran her over in the garage and passed her. We laughed so hard about the keys we were in tears.
I'm still in Maine and the weather is still bitter cold. Tonight we worked late at the office. The activation is going well, but we are still on 12 hour shifts covering "user help calls". Robin, one of the other consultants I work with, and I are staying at the same hotel across town, but have our own cars since we weren't sure what kind of schedule we would be on. So far we've both been posted at the office all week. We've been leaving at the same time and following each other back to the hotel. I can't imagine having a car breakdown in this weather. Tonight we left around 9pm. The parking garage was deserted and she was behind me when I pulled out of my parking space. I paid the parking attendant and drove slowly down the street waiting for her to catch up. A car pulled out of the garage and zoomed around me on the one way street. I thought that it was odd that she was driving so fast. So when I got to the next traffic light I looked over and realized it wasn't her! I looked in the rear view mirror and the street behind me was isolated. Where did she go? She had got turned around the night before and took a wrong turn going home, so I decided to drive around the block. Still, No Robin anywhere.
I had thrown my briefcase in the trunk, so I pulled into a gas station to get my cell phone out. The wind was whipping around and my fingers were getting numb just trying to get my gloves off so I could dig in my briefcase for the phone. I had a brief thought that I surely didn't want to drop my keys in the trunk. As soon as I did it I knew it was a mistake.... I did what I normally do at home, trying to carry too many groceries in from the car. I grabbed on to the keys with my teeth and they froze to my tongue!! All I can think of is the little boy with his tongue stuck to a pole in "The Christmas Story". After yanking off half the skin on my tongue I called Robin and found out some psycho driver nearly ran her over in the garage and passed her. We laughed so hard about the keys we were in tears.
Saturday, March 3, 2007
Portland, Maine
Finally, got here around 11:30pm, it took quite awhile to get the bags. Portland is a small airport. It's like one concourse at KCI or very similar to the airport at Charleston and Greenville. I had forgotten how hot they keep it in the airport, even for me. I went outside to cool off (that didn't take long). Even with the airport lights you can see the stars in the sky. The air here smells different than anywhere I have ever been. It is so clean and crisp.
The girl at the Avis counter had just about given up on me. I was the last one to arrive for the night and I could tell she was in a hurry, but pleasant. She looked down at her list of cars and said, "Oh I don't want to give you a Taurus. Those are ugly." I didn't have the heart to tell her, we used to have a Taurus. The cars are in the basement of a garage and you have to drive up a curving hill to get out. The road was icy tonight and I could feel the tires grabbing as I had to give it enough gas to get up the hill and around the corners without sliding all over the place. If "getting out of the parking lot" is any indication of the driving conditions tonight I'm in trouble.
I made a wrong turn and as soon as I did it I remembered doing it once before and ending up on an interstate going out of Portland. I decided making a "U" in the middle of the road was a better option than the interstate.
Things are coming back to mind as I drive to the Hampton Inn. I remember eating at this restaurant or that one.....A chill passes over me as I drive by the motel where two of the 9/11 terrorists stayed. It still blows my mind to remember Jeff and I were here when that happened and were staying at the Hampton just down the road....The road crews here are still the best in the world, for just having a snowstorm the roads are completely clear. The familiar 15 foot+ snow piles are at the intersection corners.......The Portland mall and the number of times I've done my Christmas shopping there and either stuffed the things in my bag or shipped them off to wherever they needed to go. For some reason I always ended up in Maine during December until the last few years. Donna, one of the girls I work with used to say, "If Stacey is coming, it'll be freezing and snowing."..... and it is beautiful here in December, it is beautiful here in September, it is beautiful here in every season......oh Maine, Maine, Maine, if only your winter's were a little shorter....
The girl at the Avis counter had just about given up on me. I was the last one to arrive for the night and I could tell she was in a hurry, but pleasant. She looked down at her list of cars and said, "Oh I don't want to give you a Taurus. Those are ugly." I didn't have the heart to tell her, we used to have a Taurus. The cars are in the basement of a garage and you have to drive up a curving hill to get out. The road was icy tonight and I could feel the tires grabbing as I had to give it enough gas to get up the hill and around the corners without sliding all over the place. If "getting out of the parking lot" is any indication of the driving conditions tonight I'm in trouble.
I made a wrong turn and as soon as I did it I remembered doing it once before and ending up on an interstate going out of Portland. I decided making a "U" in the middle of the road was a better option than the interstate.
Things are coming back to mind as I drive to the Hampton Inn. I remember eating at this restaurant or that one.....A chill passes over me as I drive by the motel where two of the 9/11 terrorists stayed. It still blows my mind to remember Jeff and I were here when that happened and were staying at the Hampton just down the road....The road crews here are still the best in the world, for just having a snowstorm the roads are completely clear. The familiar 15 foot+ snow piles are at the intersection corners.......The Portland mall and the number of times I've done my Christmas shopping there and either stuffed the things in my bag or shipped them off to wherever they needed to go. For some reason I always ended up in Maine during December until the last few years. Donna, one of the girls I work with used to say, "If Stacey is coming, it'll be freezing and snowing."..... and it is beautiful here in December, it is beautiful here in September, it is beautiful here in every season......oh Maine, Maine, Maine, if only your winter's were a little shorter....
Friday, March 2, 2007
Traveling to Maine
I'm in the airport in Charlotte. It's been a long day and my flight to Maine is delayed. It was supposed to leave at 7:20 pm and they just updated the board to 9:30 pm. The big storm that swept across the east coast delayed or canceled all the flights to Portland today. I've been watching the delays on the internet. (Boy things have changed a lot since I started working for myself over 10 years ago.) I figured my flight would be okay since the storm has passed Portland at this point. There is a problem with the flight from Newark and that's what I'm waiting for.
So I've walked around the airport as much as I can. I've looked in the shops and bought a few magazines I didn't really need. I went through my catalogs (I always grab several of the catalogs I have sitting on my bedside table and take them to the airport. Then I go through them, tear out the pages I'm interested in and then get to "lighten" my bag and throw them away.) I succumbed to a Whopper Jr./fries. I'm hungry and won't feel like driving around Portland at midnight trying to find something to eat. I wonder if it will be icy then?
I'm bittersweet about going to Maine. I don't like to travel much for work anymore. There was a time when I loved it. It still doesn't bother me to travel alone, or go out and eat alone, but I miss home. I imagine it is because previously I had a house, now I have a home to miss. (It's probably the same reason that flying drives me nuts anymore.) But on the other hand, I'm anxious to see some friends that I haven't seen since the last time I was there in 2003.
I met Eric the IS Director at Maine Medical Center at the TDS user's group meeting in Nashville, TN in the fall of 1996. We talked for a few minutes and he said he wanted me to come up sometime. Well it took almost two years before their schedule and mine synched up and I flew up there the first time in 1998. I've been working for them ever since.
Some of the people I've worked with at Maine will be friends for life. It is just like anyone else that goes to an office to work everyday; you become friends with some of your co-workers. But, it's different in some respects. Your friends become the familiar voices on the other end of the line during telephone and conference calls. They are thousand miles away, yet you e-mail back and forth the celebrations of life and the tragedies. And then when I come in town we get to go out for dinner, maybe some shopping or a show..... the same thing friends at the office do.
So I've walked around the airport as much as I can. I've looked in the shops and bought a few magazines I didn't really need. I went through my catalogs (I always grab several of the catalogs I have sitting on my bedside table and take them to the airport. Then I go through them, tear out the pages I'm interested in and then get to "lighten" my bag and throw them away.) I succumbed to a Whopper Jr./fries. I'm hungry and won't feel like driving around Portland at midnight trying to find something to eat. I wonder if it will be icy then?
I'm bittersweet about going to Maine. I don't like to travel much for work anymore. There was a time when I loved it. It still doesn't bother me to travel alone, or go out and eat alone, but I miss home. I imagine it is because previously I had a house, now I have a home to miss. (It's probably the same reason that flying drives me nuts anymore.) But on the other hand, I'm anxious to see some friends that I haven't seen since the last time I was there in 2003.
I met Eric the IS Director at Maine Medical Center at the TDS user's group meeting in Nashville, TN in the fall of 1996. We talked for a few minutes and he said he wanted me to come up sometime. Well it took almost two years before their schedule and mine synched up and I flew up there the first time in 1998. I've been working for them ever since.
Some of the people I've worked with at Maine will be friends for life. It is just like anyone else that goes to an office to work everyday; you become friends with some of your co-workers. But, it's different in some respects. Your friends become the familiar voices on the other end of the line during telephone and conference calls. They are thousand miles away, yet you e-mail back and forth the celebrations of life and the tragedies. And then when I come in town we get to go out for dinner, maybe some shopping or a show..... the same thing friends at the office do.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Billy Joel Concert (A Pretty Good Crowd for a Saturday)
Jeff heard Billy Joel was going to be in Greenville so we got tickets for a night of re-living the 70's. Walking to the concert from the parking garage this crazy man swerves up to the stoplight just as we're ready to cross the street. He had everyone's attention, including the cops directing traffic. He leans his head out the window and yells to no one in particular, "WHERE's the parking for the ROCK CONCERT!!". Billy Joel never fit my description of a "rocker", at least not the one this wild-eyed, long haired man implied. I wonder if he found the parking garage.
We had opted for the floor seats, down where the die hard fans sit. We were crammed in like sardines. I never sat in the floor seats before, but it is all about getting to know your neighbor. We had some nice ones on both sides. So we all sat squished together and waited. I don't know how they did it? One minute there wasn't a piano on stage and then the next minute there was a big, black shiny grand and BJ's fingers were traveling from one end to the other. He opened up with "It's Still Rock and Roll to Me". (Maybe he does consider himself a rocker).
After every couple songs he stopped and talked to the audience. I like it when the entertainer talks to the audience. Yeah I've heard their records and seen them on TV, but I want to know what they really sound like and if they can have an intelligent conversation with the audience. He could and he's pretty funny!
At one point he discussed the various seats in the house, ensuring almost everyone had good seats because he has one and only one special effect. His special effect is the turning piano. Sometimes you can see him from one side with a good view of the keyboard and then the piano spins on a platform and you get a different view.
He said the seats in the back of the auditorium were good, but for another reason. He points way to the back, "I'm really glad you people sittin' in Virginia bought those seats. I need the money these days, my car insurance is outrageous." (He's had some traffic incidents in the last few years.)
He points to us sitting on the floor seats, calls them the most expensive and the worst because, "There's eight men on a hanging platform above your heads." (Everyone looks up and by gosh there are eight guys up there). "If one of those wires break, its' going to take out at least a hundred of you."
He announces the next song from his first album in 1971. The crowd claps and hoots. Then Billy gets this perplexed look on his face and points down at a 23 year old in the front row who is doing her best to show her excitement, He says, "You weren't even born yet?" The crowd erupts into cheers and laughter.
I was amazed at the number of young kids in the audience. I figured this would be the over 35 crowd. The couple in front of us couldn't have been older than 20. I wanted to know how they were able to pay for the tickets working at McDonald's. But, I'll give this kid credit, he knew all the words to the songs. He even knew the words to "We Didn't Start the Fire" and that puts him in the die hard fan club. Except, I have this image of him learning the words by listening to his dads 8-tracks.
BJ finishes with "Only the Good Die Young" then he and the band leave the stage. But, there is one song the crowd has been waiting to hear and we haven't heard it yet.
Now, in the days before smoking became a criminal offense everyone would "flick their bic" and hold it till the performer came back on stage. Who has a bic now? And if you did, you'd probably be arrested for flicking it in a public place. Jeff elbows me in the side. He's laughing and shaking his head. "Look", he says pointing up in the stadium seats, "Everyone is waving their cell phones". Sure enough the grandstand is lit up with cell phone panels. Hey, you can't fight progress! I get Jeff's cell, flip it open and wave along with everyone else.
The young couple in front of us are frantically waving their cells also. I wonder if they think this is an original thought by their generation. I remember hot summer nights at Arrowhead Stadium, waving lighters. Back then I probably thought it was my generations idea to "flick a bic". Maybe not? Maybe mom and dad waved matches?
Finally the band and BJ are back on stage. You can almost hear the sigh across the auditorium, okay now we are going to get to hear "the song". But it isn't. I lean over to Jeff, "I forgot about that song". Then a few minutes later I'm leaning over to him again. "I forgot about that one too". Then the band walks off the stage and BJ starts walking off also.
The crowd literally "boos" him. He turns around and looks at us like we are nuts. Soon as he turns around the crowd cheers!! So he moves towards the piano, then away from it, teasing us along and laughing the whole time. We do this booing and cheering thing. It's like playing "hot and cold" as a child. That piano is hot and he is not leaving without playing it again.
So he does play again, and I find myself leaning over to Jeff again saying, "I forgot about that song". Then the band and BJ wave good-bye and start walking off the stage again. The booing is louder now than before. This time BJ looks at us like he has no idea what song we want him to play. He shrugs his shoulders and holds his palms up to the crowd. Finally the cheering moves him back to the piano and he takes a seat. "Okay Billy, you have been teasing us long enough."
A deathly silence and tension covers the auditorium. Then, from out of no where, he pulls out his harmonica and we hear the first few notes of that familiar tune. The crowd explodes in applause and cheers as The Piano Man begins to play.
The crowd sings along from the beginning. I notice my 20 year old friend doesn't know the words to this one. Maybe he didn't know that many of the people in the crowd would have come just to hear this one.
On the last verse, we sing out, "It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday". And he finishes the rest. Then it is time for the last refrain, but this time the house lights come up, the band quits playing, Billy quits playing, Billy quits singing and leans back on the keyboard and turns to the audience. We finish the song:
We had opted for the floor seats, down where the die hard fans sit. We were crammed in like sardines. I never sat in the floor seats before, but it is all about getting to know your neighbor. We had some nice ones on both sides. So we all sat squished together and waited. I don't know how they did it? One minute there wasn't a piano on stage and then the next minute there was a big, black shiny grand and BJ's fingers were traveling from one end to the other. He opened up with "It's Still Rock and Roll to Me". (Maybe he does consider himself a rocker).
After every couple songs he stopped and talked to the audience. I like it when the entertainer talks to the audience. Yeah I've heard their records and seen them on TV, but I want to know what they really sound like and if they can have an intelligent conversation with the audience. He could and he's pretty funny!
At one point he discussed the various seats in the house, ensuring almost everyone had good seats because he has one and only one special effect. His special effect is the turning piano. Sometimes you can see him from one side with a good view of the keyboard and then the piano spins on a platform and you get a different view.
He said the seats in the back of the auditorium were good, but for another reason. He points way to the back, "I'm really glad you people sittin' in Virginia bought those seats. I need the money these days, my car insurance is outrageous." (He's had some traffic incidents in the last few years.)
He points to us sitting on the floor seats, calls them the most expensive and the worst because, "There's eight men on a hanging platform above your heads." (Everyone looks up and by gosh there are eight guys up there). "If one of those wires break, its' going to take out at least a hundred of you."
He announces the next song from his first album in 1971. The crowd claps and hoots. Then Billy gets this perplexed look on his face and points down at a 23 year old in the front row who is doing her best to show her excitement, He says, "You weren't even born yet?" The crowd erupts into cheers and laughter.
I was amazed at the number of young kids in the audience. I figured this would be the over 35 crowd. The couple in front of us couldn't have been older than 20. I wanted to know how they were able to pay for the tickets working at McDonald's. But, I'll give this kid credit, he knew all the words to the songs. He even knew the words to "We Didn't Start the Fire" and that puts him in the die hard fan club. Except, I have this image of him learning the words by listening to his dads 8-tracks.
BJ finishes with "Only the Good Die Young" then he and the band leave the stage. But, there is one song the crowd has been waiting to hear and we haven't heard it yet.
Now, in the days before smoking became a criminal offense everyone would "flick their bic" and hold it till the performer came back on stage. Who has a bic now? And if you did, you'd probably be arrested for flicking it in a public place. Jeff elbows me in the side. He's laughing and shaking his head. "Look", he says pointing up in the stadium seats, "Everyone is waving their cell phones". Sure enough the grandstand is lit up with cell phone panels. Hey, you can't fight progress! I get Jeff's cell, flip it open and wave along with everyone else.
The young couple in front of us are frantically waving their cells also. I wonder if they think this is an original thought by their generation. I remember hot summer nights at Arrowhead Stadium, waving lighters. Back then I probably thought it was my generations idea to "flick a bic". Maybe not? Maybe mom and dad waved matches?
Finally the band and BJ are back on stage. You can almost hear the sigh across the auditorium, okay now we are going to get to hear "the song". But it isn't. I lean over to Jeff, "I forgot about that song". Then a few minutes later I'm leaning over to him again. "I forgot about that one too". Then the band walks off the stage and BJ starts walking off also.
The crowd literally "boos" him. He turns around and looks at us like we are nuts. Soon as he turns around the crowd cheers!! So he moves towards the piano, then away from it, teasing us along and laughing the whole time. We do this booing and cheering thing. It's like playing "hot and cold" as a child. That piano is hot and he is not leaving without playing it again.
So he does play again, and I find myself leaning over to Jeff again saying, "I forgot about that song". Then the band and BJ wave good-bye and start walking off the stage again. The booing is louder now than before. This time BJ looks at us like he has no idea what song we want him to play. He shrugs his shoulders and holds his palms up to the crowd. Finally the cheering moves him back to the piano and he takes a seat. "Okay Billy, you have been teasing us long enough."
A deathly silence and tension covers the auditorium. Then, from out of no where, he pulls out his harmonica and we hear the first few notes of that familiar tune. The crowd explodes in applause and cheers as The Piano Man begins to play.
The crowd sings along from the beginning. I notice my 20 year old friend doesn't know the words to this one. Maybe he didn't know that many of the people in the crowd would have come just to hear this one.
On the last verse, we sing out, "It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday". And he finishes the rest. Then it is time for the last refrain, but this time the house lights come up, the band quits playing, Billy quits playing, Billy quits singing and leans back on the keyboard and turns to the audience. We finish the song:
Sing us the song, you're the piano man,And He did.....
Sing us the song tonight,
Cause we're all in the mood for a melody,
And you've got us feelin' all right.
Monday, February 5, 2007
Body Boot Camp
Today my brain is fried!! Not only has work been crazy but I went to body pump class (which I love) at the gym only to find out that they have changed it to another class called: Body Boot Camp.
Now you can imagine what that was like with a name called Boot Camp. And that is exactly what it was, Boot Camp. If you have an image of that, then imagine me doing it for an hour.
Also envision that person who can never climb the rope or do all the pushups. Well that was me! I don’t know if I will be able to move tomorrow. We ran sprints across the gym floor, ran carrying weights, crawled around on our hands and feet going as fast as we could!!! There were several points I really thought I would have a heart attack, I thought I could not go on……
I was the weak link on several of the relay races. And there were team activities and the team could not go faster than their weakest link. Oh brother, talk about humiliating…at the end after doing push-ups (All I can think about is the girl soldier in "Officer and a Gentleman") the instructor literally pulled me up off the floor......It was just horrible.....there is more but I’m to tired to type.
Now you can imagine what that was like with a name called Boot Camp. And that is exactly what it was, Boot Camp. If you have an image of that, then imagine me doing it for an hour.
Also envision that person who can never climb the rope or do all the pushups. Well that was me! I don’t know if I will be able to move tomorrow. We ran sprints across the gym floor, ran carrying weights, crawled around on our hands and feet going as fast as we could!!! There were several points I really thought I would have a heart attack, I thought I could not go on……
I was the weak link on several of the relay races. And there were team activities and the team could not go faster than their weakest link. Oh brother, talk about humiliating…at the end after doing push-ups (All I can think about is the girl soldier in "Officer and a Gentleman") the instructor literally pulled me up off the floor......It was just horrible.....there is more but I’m to tired to type.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Fingerprinting appointment in Charlotte, NC
The picture is the USCIS office for fingerprinting in Charlotte, NC.
Oh brother, what a day we had. We went for our fingerprint appointment and by chance a family we had met at an adoption workshop is also going through the process to adopt their second. So we met them there, their appointment was right after ours.
They brought their baby because the sitter wasn’t around today. She is 19 months old and as cute as a button. So we all sat and talked for awhile and played with the baby. She and Jeff seemed to be having a great time, giggling and so forth. Jeff and I had already got our prints done. We were waiting for their turn to go so we could all go eat lunch afterwards.
So when it was their turn, they called both mom and dad in at the same time. (5 print machines at the facility).They left the baby with us!!!!!!!!!!!! You can imagine where this is leading….. as this was the first time we had ever met her.
She and I were walking around looking at the pictures on the walls, when she realized her mom was gone. It took about 30 seconds for her to realize that she did not know me and she DID NOT LIKE IT that she didn’t know me.
So the screaming began in a room with 70 people. Jeff motions to me to take her up near the front where she can somewhat see her mom. So I did that, and must have crossed some imaginary forbidden line, because the woman at the desk is yelling at me “ARE YOU NEXT??? IT IS NOT YOUR TURN, YOU NEED TO STEP BACK!!!”.
At this point I’m totally bewildered and trying to calm her down. So I back-up and then that woman starts pointing her finger at me to come back to the desk. In my naïve mind I thought she was going to let me go in the room where her mother was. OH NO, she tells me I have to leave and take the baby outside or go in the bathroom, because she is screaming bloody murder.
It is weird, you know how it is annoying when you are somewhere and a baby is screaming and the parents seem to be oblivious. LET ME TELL YOU THE LAST THING ON YOUR MIND IS THAT IT MIGHT BOTHER SOMEONE ELSE.
I was dumbfounded, I sort of sulked back to the bathroom, everyone in the room was staring at us!! In the bathroom, I tried playing with the water, playing with the soap machine, playing with paper towels, singing…. Nothing was going to make her happy at this point.
At one point she put both her hands around my neck. I think she just wanted to strangle me, then she laid her head down and just sobbed. And I was about ready to start sobbing too. Women in the bathroom were trying to console both of us. Finally her dad got finished and came and knocked on the bathroom door.
I swear by the time he came, Both she and I were shaking, I didn’t think I could walk. I collapsed in my seat next to Jeff, my legs were shaking, my stomach was shaking and I felt my insides shaking. Of course, Jeff has this silly smile on his face and said, “You notice I didn’t jump in and help you. I figured it was good experience!”. He did tell me later, there was nothing I could have done to fix that situation!
Chuck, her daddy, also thought it was good experience! He said, "Expect it for the first 72 hours in China!!!!"
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