I planted my new hibiscus last night. This is the gift she gave me this morning!
And the other one has given me fine blossoms for tea.
I had big plans for this morning. So far I have drunk a pot of coffee. But now, really, I’m going to do the thing I was going to start almost 2 hours ago. Yes, I am. Except that there’s more coffee. And a biscuit with strawberry jam. And I can’t decide on my motivational music. Maybe I should just forget the whole thing. We can keep walking around the junk.
I’m qualified for TRUE and Xanga won’t give it to me. Write your favorite Congressperson.
Stepping away from the computer, because it’s a beautiful day.
Welcome to the land of no melodrama and thinking. Wahoo. That stuff is dangerous.
Here’s what’s good:
I had art camp this week and it was fun. Only had four little dearies this week and they were sweet and adorable. We painted (which you know I love) and tie dyed and did paper mache (which no one complained about) and got awfully messy. LLO came with me four of the five days. She’s grown up a lot since last year. I bring her along so she and the sister don’t kill each other, and I’m pretty thrilled if I don’t just want to throw her out the window after 3 hours. I didn’t have that inclination at all this week. Well, much. So, hooray. When I complain about going to work in the summer, you really shouldn’t pay much attention to me. Because my summer job is a blast. (Truthfully, my regular job is pretty great as well.)
I went through a lot of girl drama this week. (We specialize in drama here, but this was heavy duty drama.) However, we also saw Brave, which is a wonderful mother/daughter movie, and made an epic scene. It was adorable. Holding hands and crying our eyesies out. (Spawn was a little more reserved, but still a part of the emotion-fest.) And we had heart-to-heart conversation. And there was staring deeply into each other’s eyes. You may throw up a little bit now. My girls are pretty special and they like me pretty much too. Who can beat that? So when I complain about my girls, you really shouldn’t pay much attention to me. Because my daughters are awesome possum.
Incidentally, that Talking Heads song is in Brave. I had to giggle a little bit, because it’s just not the same after the ukelele orchestra. Even more amusing than Lobster Killer in Julie and Julia.
I’m starting a kinda new adventure on Monday. Nervous a little, but mostly excited.
We’re going somewhere fun tomorrow too. After we put in our (gag) housework time. I’ll get to put my toes in sand and read and maybe get in the canoe if I feel like it.
While I was at Barnes and Noble feeding two of my summer obsessions, I stopped at the flower farm stand to get another hibiscus. ‘Cause I like ‘em. I may go plant it now. It was too freaking hot when I got home with it.
Sometimes the right thing happens at the right time. Well, often. But I have a story to tell and I had to start it somehow.
My friend’s eldest daughter is now 19. Today is her birthday. She really is an amazing young woman. She just completed her freshman year of college in Canada (they are from Canada, but have lived here 11 years.) She’s brilliant and motivated and involved and got a really cool tattoo. Anyhow. A couple days ago on facebook she invited us over to celebrate her birthday by bringing lasagna for dinner, eating her cake and doing a puzzle. And I love that. Her friend was joining us- my second favorite 19 year old. When we arrived, the greeting from the friend was stupendous. She’s another amazing young woman.
The dinner was delightful- I mean the companionship and watching the young adults devour my lasagna. And then my friend and I sat on her porch chatting about who knows what. Part of my agenda (which I put out there) was to mention my plan for her adirondack chairs (which are matches for the ones I just painted and I can’t find any others that do match)- which is for her to buy new and sell me her old. She wants me to paint hers. So I offered to paint her new ones after I paint her old ones after she sells them to me. Because honestly, I would love to skip out on everything else and just paint adirondack chairs for the rest of the summer. So we’ll see. It’s possible. Ha. There was a hummingbird on her feeder and her youngest daughter up a tree and a somebody made me a cup of tea. Then it was time for birthday cake and the puzzle. One involved yumming and the other involved laughing. Lots of gray in that there puzzle. Gray everywhere. Lots of laughter too.
My poor friend. About a month ago, she was playing with her youngest- jump roping I think- and fell down giving herself a concussion. And she didn’t call me. (Need I further mention that her husband wasn’t at home and her eldest, the other driver in the household, was still at college. Hold on to this information.) Well, Sunday night she was playing badminton in the backyard with the whole family. She fell down, broke her wrist, and gave herself another concussion. In the grass. And she didn’t call me. (At least this time there were other adults and another driver around. ) But, seriously. Anyhow. In a month, she will be at the beach (and I won’t. boo hoo). I’ve told her that I’m willing to come along just to make sure that she either doesn’t play or someone is around to take her to the ER. Poor thing. She is just not allowed to have any kind of fun.
The girl phenomenon seems to be everywhere. The thing where you say something positive to one kid and the other one immediately is offended because you’ve basically said that she’s not ________. No. I didn’t say, “LLO you are a pickle eater and Spawn, you are not.” Why do kids automatically do that. Shoot. We grown-ups do it too. Chicks anyhow. I have no idea how men and boys think. Middle child in the other family (a spunky, delightful girl) is not the puzzle fiend that the elder people are and she was into it last night so I casually mentioned that she was good at it or something like that. And birthday girl immediately went into defensive mode. I think we even spoke of prodigal son (which is one of the most irritating Bible stories) or maybe I just thought it. In any case, why would a girl who has so much to offer feel inferior because no one complimented her on her puzzle-making skills? LLO and I are having constant tv discussions, because I want to throw the tv out the window and she doesn’t want me to. Yesterday after art camp, she was explaining that she has the tv on to draw in the style of my freaking little pony. And I casually suggested that I’d rather see her own style than the best possible copy of someone else’s. How can she possibly think that that her drawing isn’t good?
Just how good at something does a girl have to be to actually know it?
What’s right? This can be a question of morally or legally. More than that it can be a question of perspective. Because what is right for one person is not right for another person. Perhaps worst of all is when someone or someones decide what is right for others. Definitely worst of all is one person or one group deciding for everyone else. I have had “right” assaulting my little head for days now. It disturbs me. I think of myself as a person with very little black and white and a lot of gray.
I got to thinking about perspective yesterday. My kids were away for a whole week and yesterday was our first whole day together as people who pretend to love each other. (It wasn’t a great day as we have tired people: one who was on vacation at the beach with 100 of her closest friends and the other who was the sun, moon and stars to her doting grandparents. So reality was something else yesterday.) But reality depends on perspective. It was obvious to me that LLO missed me. She looked at me yesterday (when she wasn’t engaging in epic tantrums) like I was Wonder Woman on steroids. And full of compliments. Most of them of a certain nature that is contrary to proof. But she believes what she was saying. To her it was fact. To me, not. So I got to thinking… who is right? Who has the perspective that is closest to truth? And how do we judge? I don’t think we can. I think even in such a trivial issue, the truth is impossible to judge. And if we cannot judge the trivial, then how can we judge the important?
My class last week was a lot about ethics in research. We had a lot of discussions about what was right and fair in terms of a lot of things in education. One was the big stink in Atlanta about schools cheating on standardized testing. This is one article. That is not the one we read, but it certainly points out how stupid the participants were in changing the answers. Also, this probably doesn’t support what might be my stance on this cheating. I’m not entirely sure what my stance is. Exactly. Because surely cheating is wrong, morally and legally. No question. However, I think standardized testing is also wrong. Obviously not legally wrong. Probably not morally wrong either. But definitely educationally wrong. This is what Governor Deal said about the big cheating scandal, “nothing is more important to the future of our state than ensuring that today’s students receive a first-class education and integrity in testing is a necessary piece of the equation.” And he further said, “when test results are falsified and students who have not mastered the necessary material are promoted, our students are harmed, parents lose sight of their child’s true progress, and taxpayers are cheated.“ Here’s my issue. Who says that testing is a necessary piece of the equation? I do not think it is educators who believe this. Because teachers are the ones who have to interrupt their real educating to administer these tests. They often have to interrupt their real teaching to teach kids how to take the test. And sometimes they have to interrupt their real teaching to teach specific things that test writers think kids should know (which is unsound teaching practice and horrible for assessing anyhow.) My opinion is that kids are harmed BY taking standardized tests. Regarding parents being informed of their child’s progress- this is why we have conferences and report cards. Those things reflect more clearly what the student is learning. Maybe it’s a good thing to know how your kid compares to some kid across the country. Maybe. But I’d rather know how my kid thinks and solves problems. Standardized tests don’t go there. As far as taxpayers being cheated, we are cheated every stinking day. I’d rather our children get an education that helps them become an important part of the community than an education that cares how they fill in circles. So I think the wrong here in this situation is the testing itself and especially that a school district that is chock full of kids from low income families is being judged the same as a district full of wealthy families. Apples to oranges educationally. What would I do if I worked in a poorer district and my job depended on cheating? I have no idea. I think I’m too wimpy for such hard work to begin with. (I do know I’d be smarter about the cheating. For darn sure.)
I got my little world rocked when I read a blog by a smart person. Well, this happens often, but in this case I found out about something out of science fiction that just crushed my belief in the goodness of the US. Oh, dangit. I should just find his link right there. (Don’t get all big-headed because I’m quoting you or anything. ha ha.) A lot of the evidence there is asking whether these drones are legal. Honestly, I don’t care if they are legal, because it disturbs me that we’re using them in the way we’re using them for the reason we’re using them and just that we’re using them! It’s underhanded and violent and … I’m just going to say this.. terroristic. It’s cheating. It’s killing because we can. And why can we? Because we were so very happy when Osama Bin Laden got knocked off. We danced and shouted and were right with ourselves and God because he was evil incarnate. And now we kill indiscriminately using a flying apparatus. The only thing we haven’t done is fly one into the Twin Towers. But yet we’re supposed to believe this is ok (or not to know about it at all) because it’s a decision made by our government in a time of war. Sorry, I think it’s wrong.
Since I’m picking at government, I might as well pick at religion too. A little bit. But really what I want to talk about is mission work. I forget who I was talking to, possibly an acquaintance who has spent a lot of time in Haiti (I think, but it’s possible I’m misremembering because there was something else about Haiti) and she mentioned how some countries somehow do not let missionaries (really, what an awful word. is there some other word to use?) preach when they come to help with water and such. And truly, I think this is how it should be always. Why should some poor village have to listen to words in order for them to get clean water? Why should our Christian agenda be such a priority? Our minister quoted Gandhi. It wasn’t this one, but it was similar. “I like your Christ; I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” I think this is very true, even with the ones who wish to serve. I think Jesus lead and people chose to follow. I do not think Christians lead. I think we jam it down people’s throats. And if we’re back to my original premise that what is right for one person is not necessarily right for every other, how can it be moral to put a spiritual price tag on helping others.
So many shades of gray. I don’t think I’m meant to know stuff. I’m meant to link Monkees songs and read the 50 Shades of Grey trilogy.
I think I’ve finished my little project. I’m still pondering, so maybe not. I have a powerful feeling of deja vu, so I think I might have completely copied this. But so what, I like it. So does LLO. (who returned about 2 hours ago. yay!)
The rest of it, which I could not get enough light on, says “reach for the stars to change the world”. I thought it suited my purpose just fine. I really considered “come up on and bring your jukebox money”, but decided to be motivational rather than silly. It happens.
Flowers. ’cause I got some.
Been rocking out to my B52′s pandora station.
This was not on it. I think I have a new goal in life. I want to be in a ukelele orchestra. (I hope you laugh as much as I did watching this. Otherwise I’m just a little crazy.)
I need an easy button and training to use it. You do know the Staples commercial about the easy button? Or is it the other office supply place? Whatever. Because sometimes my inability to take the easy way out is annoying. Not saying I’m an overachiever or anything. That would be a lie. However, allowing myself too many options means that I sometimes sit here completely incapable of deciding anything because I debate every option instead of hitting the easy button. The easy way is not always the right way. Sometimes it is too. So here I sit. About to bore the crap out of you. Ok, I warned you.
I had yet another piece of work to do for class this week. I had to look at two journals and write about stuff. I finished it last night, but was frustrated because the second journal wasn’t worth the paper it was printed on. So I debated with myself about whether to just call it done, because I followed the assignment. Hello easy button. But, no. I decided to look at the 3rd journal that I picked up with the other two and did the assignment about that one too. Yes, it probably makes me look like a brown noser, big fat whatever. But the articles in this one were interesting and helpful and potentially useful to another thing I’m debating. And I always love a connection. Because there is a piece of something that makes me think maybe I have had a direction delivered to me.
By the way, my odometer was at 70707 this morning when I got in the car. 7 is my favorite number. And I heard “Carrie Anne” on the radio. That’s not my name or anything, but still. I sometimes think that these little coincidences are a message from the universe. What the message is, I have no idea. Have a song.
I’m debating my little stairway to heaven project as well. I found words to paint and have done so and like how it looks (well enough). And I could call this done, urethane it, and be ready for my wild people to come home tomorrow evening and not wreck it. However, I had intended to get carried away with it and I haven’t yet. So do I hit the easy button (or as my dad says KISS-”keep it simple stupid”) or do I continue with my quest for crazy. I can’t decide.
The biggest thing is that I should already have a big honking paper topic and I hadn’t thought about it much before this week when the head of the graduate department spelled it out that I need to have the thing written by October. So maybe I oughtta have a clue what I’m going to do. (insert utter panic) And I think there is an easy button here. I think most students in my program write about the reading camp that I’m involved with in one short week (which would be another reason for panic). But. If so many people in the program write about that, it offends my sensibilities to be included in the everyone club. BORING. They do that because it’s probably the best/only option for them. It’s not the only option for me, because I’m a grown up. (I’ve been in the real world. sorry.) So I could look at the extensive array of papers I’ve written in the past year and do something with those topics or those papers to fit the big honking paper guidelines. Maybe. Or I could take a summer camp that I’m doing later this summer and create something really spectacular with it. I co-teaching with a loony friend of mine. We’re combining art and writing to make books and it is just going to be so incredibly cool that I’m drooling already. I guarantee no one else in the program will have done anything like this. And maybe this is what I’m leaning towards. However, if this is what I’m going to do, I have a ton of background work to do and I have to plan IN ADVANCE (which goes against everything I believe in) and I have to get permissions and I have to prepare materials and all kinds of hoo hoo stuff that I gotta do. Including talking to my adviser to see if he thinks the idea is worthwhile to begin with. And all of this I gotta do having completely wasted the first two easy weeks of my summer, because my summer goes nuts starting next Monday. So I’m thinking the easy button here, rather than the crazy button. But…
And all this thinking is giving me a headache.
We’re going to see Rock of Ages tonight. I’ve heard it’s fun for people who are old. I’ve also heard it bombed. I’m old and I like to sing. I think this might be obnoxious. (Kinda like when I took my girlies to see Mamma Mia the movie.) But I can’t decide if we should go to the 5:00 showing or the 7:30 showing.
I’m wondering if a cootie catcher or a ouijja board might come in handy. Or maybe the magic 8 ball.
I started with a recipe but lost interest. Bread machine crust which wasn’t my job. (Since I don’t even know how to turn on the bread machine.) The recipe said mozzarella topped with some amount of ricotta. I didn’t measure and next time I make it (tomorrow?), I’ll switch the order. I topped it with sliced roma tomatoes, chopped basil, asparaguts, sliced garlic (because I love garlic), and black olives. The recipe did say brush the dough with olive oil, which I did. I cooked it until it looked and smelled done. (recipe said about 30 minutes at 400. I didn’t pay attention to the clock.)
My LLO is away for the week visiting her grandparents (my in-laws who on principle just irritate the crap out of me even though they are perfectly wonderful and have taken the loud one away for the week. As I’ve said.) She called yesterday afternoon. It took me a minute to recognize her voice and not just because I’m a space cadet. Her voice is changing. I’ve noticed recently that it’s hard to tell who is saying what with those two girls of mine. Which is probably a huge problem or maybe not a problem for the future. Spawn and I already sound pretty similar on the phone. Not that I talk to myself.. on the phone. This is just what people tell me. So three girls all sounding the same on the phone could be pretty interesting when phone calls become a part of our lives. (If.) I’ve confused myself now. What the heck was I talking about.
Oh yea. LLO called me. Still adorable to talk to her on the phone, even though she sounds more grown up. It was a classic LLO conversation. I got a full report of every meal she has had since arrival in grandparent heaven. She is ecstatic with the food service. Probably a little dig in there about how I do not provide adequately for her culinary needs (which was the theme of last week.) They went out to lunch at Red Lobster. I heard every little detail about that too. Yes, dear, those biscuits are good.
She made jelly. Woo hoo. I personally do not understand why you’d take a perfectly good raspberry and drain all the goodies out of it. But that’s just me. LLO was delighted to finally be a part of this summer thrill at grandma’s. Spawn has spoken of it many times. Probably well aware that LLO was jealous. The best part is that apparently my not exactly successful strawberry jam was discussed because grandma is giving me a book for not screwing up jam. Again, thank you, dear child. I’ll put that book the same place I put all the other stuff my MIL gives me that I don’t want. (I have a book. thank you very much. and the internet.)
The other big news is the fishing. Not with the MIL. of course. LLO has been on a fishing theme lately. Fishing is completely not my thing. I have devastating memories of fishing (aside from the fact that I’d rather watch grass grow than wait for a fish to show up.) My brother likes fishing, so much that he will watch that show on tv about fly fishing (holy mother please poke my eyes out). So when we were growing up, fishing was a part of the summer experience. We had a cabin with a little pond and the property next to ours had an even better pond. So we’d walk over to the other pond (where I guess the fishing was better) which I remember being a mildly terrifying place just because it’s all overgrown and I was sure there were snakes and the bullfrogs were always out and loud and not scary but sorta scary. I know for a fact there were lots and lots of bugs. Biting stinging invisible beasties who knew tasty girlflesh when they saw it. So there I stood with the stupid stick, hoping that nothing would bite the bait on the hook. Because if I caught a fish, I’d have to take the dang thing off the hook. Fish have prickly things. It hurts. And they are slimey. And that’s just the fun of fishing in a nearby place that I knew. Once my dad drove the two of us into the woods in a place called Bear Meadow or Bear Mountain or something like that. With a bear in the title. It was a lovely stream for fishing I’m sure. Not that I put the pole in the water. Because I was busy. You see my dad didn’t think that the brother and I should fish in the same place, so he dropped me off and drove the brother to another place. He left me. Alone. In the dark woods in a place with bear in the name to stick a pole in the water and potentially catch a prickly, slimy fish. I did what any wimpy girl would do. I sat on the bank and cried my eyes out and waited the eon for him to remember he had a daughter. So. No. I’m not into fishing.
But LLO is. And she had a wonderful time. So I guess I’ll be hearing some more discussion about fishing. And I’ll be calling my brother (who conveniently lives with my parents an hour away) to take this kid fishing. Build some memories with your niece.
i’ve got a little project going on. i decided to paint words on my stair risers. but now i can’t decide which words. sorry this is such a mess, i copied from elsewhere and i’m too lazy to figure out to make it look better. green are the ones i kinda dig. but if i was sure what i wanted to do, i wouldn’t be asking you. other suggestions welcome, because i love having more choices. thanks!
put the lime in the coconut and drink it both up
the stars we could reach were just starfish on the beach
Under the boardwalk, down by the sea, yeah
On a blanket with my baby is where I’ll be
”Tin Roof……Rusted!”
Be glad of life because it gives you the chance to love, to work, to play, and to look up at the stars. Henry Van Dyke
“To be a star, you must shine your own light, follow your own path, and don’t worry about the darkness, for that is when the stars shine brightest” Unknown
“If I could reach up and hold a star for every time you’ve made me smile, the entire evening sky would be in the palm of my hand.” Unknown
“I’m glad I did it, partly because it was worth it, but mostly because I shall never have to do it again.” — Mark Twain
Never look back unless you are planning to go that way. – Henry David Thoreau
Never put off till tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow.
– Mark Twain
Este lado hacia arriba.
ad astra per aspera seneca the elder
mica mica parva stella or twinkle twinkle etc.
So come on up and bring your jukebox money.
Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human? from Stardust
and i just love this because it is perfect.
one last thing. i’m close to getting true status. so i’m going to be spewing for a little while probably. eventually i’ll write something worth reading. probably.
really just not having the best ever day. i had work to do last night which i copped ‘tude on instead of just doing it. so i finished it late. then i read more closely and discovered i hadn’t done the right work. i did what every grown woman does, cried my little eyesies out. and then i did the right work and slept 2-3 beautiful hours. yeehaw. managed to be on time to class in spite of my best efforts to not. propped the eyesies open and hoped not to fall asleep and/or look stupid. then i had to go fetch the kitten from the middle of nowhere where she was having the time of her life getting the snip snip. honestly, i was a little frightened to drive, because we are dizzy. and she’s not speaking to me because i took her to this awful place. and the other cats aren’t speaking to me because i brought her back. how lovely to always be the responsible party. made it home alive. again in spite of my best efforts to not. then i got the hem of my dress stuck in the door and nearly knocked myself over. my shoe fell off and i stepped on something sharp and gave myself yet another puncture wound. this appears to be my goal this week. i’m even bleeding. and it’s hot as heck. record-breaking. on top of yesterday’s (i think it was yesterday) chill.
so now i shall nap until some freaking telemarketer calls me. and try again later.
isn’t this a great fountain? it’s my favorite place on campus.
My girls are pretty special and they like me pretty much too. Who can beat that? So when I complain about my girls, you really shouldn’t pay much attention to me. Because my daughters are awesome possum.
So I offered to paint her new ones after I paint her old ones after she sells them to me. Because honestly, I would love to skip out on everything else and just paint adirondack chairs for the rest of the summer. So we’ll see. It’s possible. Ha. There was a hummingbird on her feeder and her youngest daughter up a tree and a somebody made me a cup of tea. Then it was time for birthday cake and the puzzle. One involved yumming and the other involved laughing. Lots of gray in that there puzzle. Gray everywhere. Lots of laughter too. 
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