Thinking out loud......

Endless Summer

2010-06-20T09:59:00.001-07:00

One of the things I want to do this year, is to continue writing. So, to begin my endless summer, I think back to the summers of my youth. Nothing special, as a matter of fact, they were rather lonely. We never went anywhere...my parents could not afford much. I spent my time reading, visiting friends, and lounging around. We never went to camps, or had weekend trips, as money was always a factor. I, in turn, became a reader, and always got lost on an adventure in one of my books.

This summer, I have plans. We are doing some remodeling of our house, and fixing up things. I don't know that we will travel, but that is ok. I want to invest the time and money in our home. After all, it is where we live, and defines us to some degree.

I also plan to read. I want to read as much as I did during my youthful summers. I want to lose myself in adventures that are exciting and rare. Reading can do that.

I hope to do some school work for next year, but not right away. I want to visit friends and family, and see if I can help 2 of my friends going through a rough time right now.

I want to pray more. God has been good to me, and I want to renew my relationship with him.

I want to enjoy my container garden. It is in that garden that new life happens, on a very small scale, and that in itself is peaceful.

Endless summer. It was was Beach Boys song, but it has so many possibilities. This year, I hope my summer is endless.

Baby steps

2010-02-13T09:42:00.000-08:00

It has been a while. Life certainly has gotten in my way. It has a habit of doing that. Seems just when you want to do things "your" way, life has a way of forcing you to do it another way.

I've had surgery--a knee injury. I am off crutches finally, and limping around. I have learned just how intolerant I am. Little inconveniences bother me, as do small changes in plans. I like things done my way. I guess we all are like that to an extent, but when you cannot walk without someone's help, or roll over in bed without crying in pain, you learn just how intolerant you are, of your own inconveniences.

I hate to ask for help. I am very stubborn. I have learned that both of my children are the same. My daughter, though, has compassion. Her compassion, and tolerance is a quality unique to her. My son, does not have compassion. He just does what needs to be done. Both of my children have done their share to help me through this ordeal, without sacrificing their own professions and social life..too much!

My husband has been a saint. He knows me, and he knows what I need. Sometimes he forgets, but that is ok. He also tolerates me. I know I can be impossible, especially when I am trying not to depend on him, but he still tolerates me. I know that is love.

So, it has been a while. Life has gotten in my way, but now I want it to get out of my way, and let me be myself again. Baby steps. That is what the Physical therapist says, and he is right. Baby steps.

My new team

2009-08-16T17:49:00.000-07:00

Well, Eagles fans, you won't be seeing me sporting the green this year. No. Nope. Nada. I have officially given up my Eagles. As long as Eagles Management sees fit to hire, pay, and advertise Michael Vick as a Philadelphia Eagle, then I will not be among the team's fan base.

Michael Vick tortured, humiliated, and mutilated dogs. He supported and made money off dog fighting. And he enjoyed it. He got caught, accepted his punishment of 18 months in jail. He served his time, and now 6 weeks out of Federal Prison, lands a job with the Philadelphia Eagles. Not just a job, but a spot on the team. The honor of being an Eagle. Jeffrey Lurie what were you thinking? Did you think that roar over this would die down? I am insulted that you think it is ok, that our city will accept this man at his word, that he is a changed individual. Maybe he is. I hope so. But shouldn't he actually prove it before being handed the honor of wearing our team's uniform? He has been out of prison 6 weeks. He has good intentions. He needs to act on them.

I am so disappointed in your decision to hire Michael Vick, Mr. Lurie. I thought you were a good man, with some honor and dignity. And I thought you cared about the good and faithful fans of this city. I don't think you do. I was one of those good and faithful fans. For a very long time. But not any more. As long as Michael Vick is a Philadelphia Eagle, I cannot support my team.

My family is equally divided. We loved our "Iggles". We still do. But we cannot love them with Michael Vick. I am so sad for my husband. He loves football, and has loved supported and followed the Eagles through the good and bad years. He would like nothing more than to enjoy an Eagle's Super Bowl. But now, the blanket of dishonor has been cast over our team. My son is and always will be a die hard fan. He has many mixed emotions. He isn't happy at all, but he loves his football team with such passion that it hurts to even think about supporting anyone else. It hurts me to see him so saddened. It offends me that all the kids who love the Eagles players will have to accept Michael Vick as a member of the team. I don't think it is right. How can fans really get excited for the Eagles? I know I can't. I don't think my family can either.

Since the announcement I have been looking for a new team to support. I have to have a reason to support a team. I was born in South Carolina, so Carolina Panthers...meet your newest fan. Your first game will be an interesting one for me. It will be my debut in Blue.

My turn to cry

2009-08-16T17:35:00.001-07:00

Dear Michael Vick
I heard that you cried in prison. Well, that is a shame. Did you ever stop to think about the dogs you tortured? You laughed as they were humiliated and mutilated and they cried. But you made money, and got a charge out of it. I hope you shed some tears, because you certainly made most of the country shed tears and hurl our dinners after we found out what you did.

I was glad you went to prison, and I hoped you would cry. You brought dishonor to the great game of football, let alone the NFL and the human race. As a civilized society we don't do those things..but you would not have know that because after all you are Michael Vick.

Now Michael Vick, you belong to my city. My football team, you are on my turf. And the mere fact that you are now an Eagle turns my stomach. You do not get to walk out of jail and strum up the honor that goes with being a Philadelphia Eagle. Not in my book. You don't deserve the title. You don't deserve to play in the NFL, yet. You have to earn that back. And you have to prove to me that you are worthy to be an Eagle.

It is a shame you cried in prison. Now I am crying. Crying because you have taken away from me one of my favorite past times...supporting the Philadelphia Eagles. As long as you are on the team, I will not support the team. My turn to cry because you do not have the right to take away something I enjoy. But you did. Because of you, and your selfishness, a little bit of me died when you became an Eagle. And now it is my turn to cry.

The Perils of Technology

2009-07-04T11:32:00.000-07:00

Pizza. That is all they wanted for dinner last night. Pizza. Ok. We decided on how many, what toppings etc. I was charged, as always, with the task of calling and placing the order. Simple. I have done it a zillion times, and no lasting scars.

I dialed the phone. It rang several times. Nothing unusual. "Hello" I hear on the other end. I was not expecting "Hello". I was not expecting the voice to be familiar. Who could this be?? Who did I know that would be working at a Pizza Delivery store? No, this voice was older. Much older.

"Who is this?" I boldly asked. My husband was sitting across the table from me, my 20-something children glaring at me. They wanted to hear their pizza order being placed.

"Who is this?" the voice on the other end demanded. Wow. That kind of force could only come from one person. My mother.

"Mom??? What are you doing....?" I didn't get to finish my question.

"What are YOU doing? YOU called me!" Uh oh. It was that "you-are-now-in-trouble-girl" voice.

"I am trying to order a pizza" I proudly proclaimed.

"Well", she said calmly, "order one for me too".

By the time I hung up, my family was on the floor rolling in laughter. I dialed the number to order a pizza and somehow got my mother. Only me. You see, we have a new (we have had it over a year) telephone system. My husband thinks that somehow I signaled the speed dial directory, and what ever number I pushed to dial the pizza place, referenced my mother's telephone number.

I did finally get it right. I ordered the pizza. Everyone is still laughing. Only me.

Busted

2009-07-03T18:02:00.000-07:00

Well, summer is finally here, and I am finally done with all my stuff so I can relax and have some down time. I do so love summer, for the adventure, fun and crazy experiences I seem to always encounter. It is like have a second childhood as a grownup. Lots of laughter, intrigue and silly circumstances.

Today being the start of the July 4th holiday, we as a family decided what we were going to have to eat over the weekend. At my son's office yesterday they had a holiday luncheon. One of the gentleman brought in brownies that his wife had made. it just so happens I know his wife well, and my son was mystified by the brownies. After getting the recipe from her, I gathered the ingredients so that my husband would bake them tonight. We needed Creme de Menthe.

Errands took up a good portion of the day, and my daughter was kind enough to go with me on my travels. Our last stop was the PA State Store, for Creme de Menthe. I didn't know it came in green and clear, so I called my friend to find out which to buy. In the mean time, while I was still on the phone, my daughter was telling me about other drinks to make with Creme de Menthe, a man came by and asked her if I was a teacher. Of course she quickly said yes....turns out his children attend the school where I teach, in a younger grade. He was very funny, and was very proud to proclaim me "busted" in the state store!! My friend on the phone was totally confused, and as I hung up--I turned and saw another parent from my school, this one I knew. Really and truly I was busted.

It was funny, and ever so innocent, but nonetheless I was discovered in the State Store, probably the last place I would be expected to be. I am sure the stories will fly about how I was actually seen there...and with my daughter. Lots of laughter, and giggles, and I hope when this story is told everyone who hears it laughs.

(For those readers who do not know....we in Pennsylvania must buy wine and spirits in a state run store...a State Store)

24 hours

2009-05-15T05:38:00.000-07:00

A lot can happen in 24 hours, especially when you are waiting. Waiting for a phone call, a letter or an email. This time yesterday--we were still waiting to hear whether my son's last job opportunity would materialize into anything significant. Waiting. This time yesterday I knew that graduation was imminent, and that when today came, it would be 24 hours until he received his degree. Waiting.

At work yesterday, I knew that I was taking time to devote to our family celebrations. I had only a few hours to prepare to be absent--a lot of work was invested in the preparations...and then, knowing that I had a busy 24 hours before graduation. Nails and hair dominated my thoughts as I left work.

A phone call, from home. I decided to wait until I got into the door to see what was the problem now. 24 hours ago, my son was sleeping, a soon to be college graduate. Suddenly, he is now an adult. He was offered his first job. A real job, in his field. Someone was willing to give him a chance. Amazing how 24 hours can change a person.

In 24 hours, my husband and I will look back over 23 years, and confirm what we have done. In our soon to be 25 years of marriage, we raised 2 wonderful children, made our way through diapers,preschool, braces, high school, drivers education, the prom, SAT's and college. Both of our children are employed in their field of choice. Both are happy, and living life to its fullest, and we have been given the honor of watching them mature into adult life. 24 hours. I know I will cry. I always do. But that is ok, these are tears of joy, pride and happiness.

T minus 2 weeks

2009-05-03T13:49:00.000-07:00

In two weeks my son will graduate from College. It is finally upon us. Classes are over, and it is the week of final exams. He is very busy studying right now, and cannot wait for this week to be over. Finals do drain every ounce of energy out of a student, and then squeeze for a little more. But what my son does not know, is that after graduation, comes the biggest exam he has ever encountered. Life.

College is but a mere stepping stone to life. He has learned much information, asked plenty of questions, learned to cooperate with people he doesn't know or really like, and still succeed at the tasks handed to him. All those important skills needed for life. He doesn't know it yet, but the learning was easy. Now he has to count on the learning, and use the skills he practiced over the last four years.

College years are so important. We laugh at these kids, it is their first time trying to be someone. New hair styles, and wacky clothes are just two of the silly things that college students are known to change on themselves. I am fortunate that neither my son or daughter did much more that that. I know it could have been much worse. But now it is time for him to think about a new wardrobe; he'll have to give up the shorts and flipflops for more conventional clothing once he finds a job. But he won't forget the people he met, the adventures they had, nor the memories that are his own. That is what college is really all about.

In two weeks, my son will have a single sheet of paper, with his name embossed on it. That single piece of paper is his ticket to his future. He doesn't know it yet, but that paper signifies something that he did, all on his own, and to his best ability. It says that, despite all the odds and difficulties he has had, he is a winner. He is ready and able to soar into his future.

T minus 2 weeks, and we will have lift off.

Coffee and Margaritas

2009-04-25T15:50:00.001-07:00

I had a wonderful visit this weekend, from my cousin. Most will think what is the big deal? A visit from a cousin shouldn't be a big deal, but in our case it is. You see a family rift came between us in our late teens. Not our doing, differences our parents had with each other. so, over the last 30+ years, life has gotten in our way, we drifted but somehow always manage to find each other.

She is my older cousin. As children we were inseparable. You would have thought we were Siamese twins we were that close. Then my dad got transferred and we moved away. I was 8 years old. My cousin and I wrote to each other EVERY day. We really missed each other. We did that into our teen years, and our relationship got even closer.

My family and I moved back east when I was in high school. Even though we did not go to the same school, we remained close friends. Then I went away to college. That seemed to be the defining point. Our grandmother passed away, and the rift occurred. I don't know what happened, but indirectly it did affect my cousin and me. We drifted apart.

In the last 30+ years we have seen each other 3 times. This weekend was the 4th. She lives in another state, but within driving distance. She came to my house. We talked and giggled most of the night away. My husband let us have our time. We are still very much the same as we were as children. We talked about us. Our likes, our thoughts, our feelings. We opened the doors to our souls to each other, just like we used to do in our letters. It was good to be with her.

We are both in our mid'50's now. She is completely blond. I am highlighted. She has become very independent, and I am still opinionated. Neither of us cook or bake. We both love to read. She sews, I crochet. We love to drink coffee, and margaritas. We made plans. She is single, wasn't always, but that is another story, I am married. I have children, she doesn't. My children love her. She loves them. She likes my husband. He learned a little more about me this weekend!! I am waiting to meet the new man in her life.

I am really happy. We were able to be ourselves and not try to piece together the reasons why our families drifted apart. It doesn't matter any more. What matters now is us. We are family, and we need to renew that friendship that was our birthright. The strings that held us together as babies, strengthened as toddlers, reinforced as children, and proved everlasting as teenagers are ours to claim once again. A friendship that has never broken despite life events that tried to dismantle it brick by brick is as strong as it ever was.

Coffee and margaritas. Yes. We will have plenty of them in our future.

Harry the K

2009-04-18T18:54:00.000-07:00

Our beloved Phillies lost a great guy this week. Our announcer. Actually he has been termed the "Voice" of the Phillies. He has been the broadcaster for the last 38 years. A really nice guy, great unmistakable voice, and an icon in Philadelphia. We loved him, and I can't think of any Philadelphia sports fan that didn't love him.

It is a passage of time, tho, and one that is very hard to accept. I thought that all those icons, those people I have known since childhood, are aging and passing on. I don't mean family and relatives, I mean the media, or entertainers, or TV actors. It is almost a chunk of your past that you remember the first time you saw this person, or heard him or her--and now they are gone.

Harry was a great announcer, but more than that he was a great human being. He was very caring, loved Philadelphia, and was very friendly to anyone in his presence. He gave of his time freely to a local nursing home, and other charitable organizations. He will be remembered, and loved forever in Philadelphia.

Our Phillies showed once again what a class act they are. The funeral today was different, but so touching. Harry loved the Phillies, and his final farewell was so appropriate.

We will always have "High Hopes" Harry, and..you may be gone, but your not "outa here". Your memory will always be a part of our beloved Phillies.

Picking up the Pieces

2009-04-16T16:27:00.000-07:00

Disappointments and rejection are facts of life. We all experience them. We all understand how much it hurts, and somehow we all manage to rise above the hurt. Except when it happens to one of your children. Why is it that as a parent we feel their hurt, their rejection somewhat more than they do?

My son is soon to graduate from college. He is a good kid, has worked hard in college and has the GPA to prove it. He has entered into this whole job search experience with a naive but honest leap. He is trusting those he contacts with his future, his career. But all he meets is rejection.

Recently he interviewed with a company. Three times they invited him to their office to speak with different people. He received a call yesterday, from the secretary. Sorry, they want to find someone else. He was rejected yet again. Why did they bring him back three times? Why did they seem to encourage him, yet to decide to "look" for someone else?

I do believe in honesty. I believe that, especially in today's economy, the candidate for a job has to be savvy, but honest. I guess it is a quality that both my husband and I believe in enough that we have instilled it into our children. It hurts big time when they don't get the same honesty in return. I understand that employers are not overly anxious to hire new employees, but they can at least be honest about it. If they advertise for a job opening, and receive an applicant, they should have an obligation to that candidate to say if there is really an opening, or if they are just "looking" for possible hires someday. Honesty. It is a rare commodity these days.

My son is out pounding the pavement again, so to speak. He still has a month of school to go too, so he blends the job search with finals and projects and all those wonderful things students do. I know he will be ok, and things will work out for him, but as his mom, I feel his pain, his disappointment, his rejection. Then I pick up the pieces.

A Peanut butter and jelly sandwich

2009-04-10T12:42:00.000-07:00

My son is home from College for the Easter holiday. Today, he had a job interview, the third time he has been summoned to this company. Today was the first time he came back feeling positive about his effort. He has approached each interview with this company as a new quest, and a challenge. They keep asking him to return. He was very nervous before he left. I wanted to hug him, to make the worry and fear of uncertainty go away. But I couldn't.

As his mom, who always wants to fix everything and make it right, he is now doing something completely on his own. I can't fix it, or do anything other than make sure his shirt is clean and ironed before he leaves the house. It is very hard for me, a mom who wants to help her child succeed, realize that now he has to do it on his own. It is his turn to shine in his own rite. He will succeed.

After the interview, I made him lunch That I can still do. His favorite, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I sat across the table from my 22 year old son as he ate. We talked about the interview, the questions, and tried to interject meaning into what he could remember from the interview. I mentioned that I know this job search is hard. My son, a boy of few words, said, "No mom, it is the hardest thing I have ever done."

I have been thinking about his words all afternoon. He is probably right. There is nothing I can do to make it easier. Even if I could, I wouldn't. He needs to find his way in the world now, and carve out who he will be professionally. I can't do that for him. My husband and I have tried to give him the skills to be a good and generous person, a hard and dedicated worker, a lifelong learner, and a friend. Now, all of that will work for him.

It's funny. I used to be able to solve all of his problems with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He would, after eating, feel as though he could conquer the world. He can do great things, and I will be there to keep him supplied in peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

His jacket

2009-04-03T19:53:00.000-07:00

As parents we look for milestones in our children's lives, to mark their growth, or just to make sure we don't forget the details of their growing. The first time they roll over on their own, the first tooth, the first steps all the baby firsts that are such milestones to remember.

Then comes school. The first day of Kindergarten can be traumatic for parents. I know as an educator some children just do not separate from the parent at school time. The reverse is also true, the parent doesn't separate from the child well. But we all get through it. Suddenly, we find our little preschooler, in high school, and somehow we manage to wonder where the years have gone as we listen to Pomp and Circumstance, at the high school graduation.

I remember taking my children to college. Moving them in, hauling their stuff, and then having my heart ripped from my flesh as I had to leave them behind, in their dorms. I knew it was a right of passage, time now for them to begin to find their way in this world, but it still hurt.

Soon, my youngest will graduate from college. I remember the first day of preschool, like it was yesterday. He was very comfortable. He didn't even want me to walk into the room with him. He said he could handle hanging his jacket in his cubbie, and he did. I was the only Mom who had to remain in the hall. He was more than ready for this day, and now he is more than ready to graduate now from college. But am I??? Am I ready to send him into the world without his jacket?
I have to be.

Children grow up. We as parents prepare them for their lives. That is our job. We teach them those values that we treasure, stability, kindness, generosity, respect. We hope they learn to work for their merits, and to work hard for them all the time. We love them, and give them our love. We give them hope.

My youngest is 22. He is an adult. He is about to complete all of his basic and formal education. He will be a college graduate. He is an intelligent person, and a fun loving guy. He worked hard in college, majoring in 2 subjects. He partied equally as hard too. I know. Soon I will sit with other parents, waiting to hear his name called on the roster of graduates.

I'll be holding his jacket for him, until the ceremony is over. I will probably cry, but after commencement, I will give his jacket to him. He told me years ago, when he was 3 he knew what to do. I don't think he was kidding.

Update on the Meatball War....

2009-03-12T17:25:00.000-07:00

At first we called a truce. It seemed the test went well for both of our samples. So we decided we both had a good meatball.

Last night, however, my daughter told me that the subject came up again when she and her friends were out to dinner. I however, was declared the winner. I made the best meatball. I don't know if my competition realizes yet that I have won, but I am wearing my prize proudly!!!!

Truce is over. I win.

To see or not to see

2009-03-12T17:02:00.001-07:00

Recently I made a decision. I listened for one of the first times to what my children were saying. They hated our eye doctor. I was very unhappy with the last pair of glasses he prescribed, and have just dealt with them for the last two years. So, under pressure from my 20-something children, and wanting to preserve some family unity, I sought out recommendations for eye care from friends.

I made the appointment for an evening, so that we could go as a family! Strange as that sounds, it works for us. I was pleasantly surprised when I entered the office, it was bright and cheerful. Our former eye doctor's office was dark and drab. The office staff were cheerful also! The eye exam itself was very interesting to this Science Teacher. The equipment was new, and current. I was impressed.

I selected my new glasses, as did my husband and son. They were very different from what I usually select, but hey, at my age, time to not be afraid to be different. They were ready in a week. I put them on, and was so surprised at how bright the world became. I could actually see again. I don't think my glasses have left my head!!

We each have to stand up for ourselves and not be afraid to make a change. I do think that sometimes we become too familiar with our lives, and just accept events rather than display our true feelings. Life passes too quickly for us to just let it fly by. When it comes to health care, we have to be our own advocate. No longer can we believe that one health care provider is "the one" for us. We have to be informed, and comfortable. When the comfort level is tested, we have to be able to know what we need, and seek it.

I can't thank my friends enough for this recommendation. Being able to see is vital, but being able to see into my own self is priceless.

Meatball Wars

2009-02-08T15:47:00.000-08:00

Well the gauntlet has been laid. The challenge proclaimed. The dare established. One of the gentlemen that works with my daughter has questioned whether me, a daughter of Italy, can make a decent meatball. He thinks that my having a "Polish" last name now disqualifies my inner heritage, that of being able to make a decent meatball.

My daughter defended my honor. My husband and I have come to know, from experience, what happens when she gets angry, and the passion of her heritage begins to emerge. There is no stopping her. Being a product of Polish and Italian ancestry leaves one with fiery passion and the ability to stand up for what one believes is right. Oh that is my daughter. I salute her coworker for igniting that passion, but I question his sanity. Why would he want to even go there???

And so, on Friday it began, the Meatball War. Who makes the better meatball? What is the secret ingredient? Is there a particular method that makes the perfect meatball?

My daughter told her friend that he can say what he wants, but he may not dare to discuss the quality and uniqueness of her mom's meatballs. (She has been taught well!) To prove and uphold my honor, I had to make meatballs this weekend. He made his meatballs too. The judging takes place tomorrow. A panel of judges has been determined. I have no doubt that my meatballs will prevail. I am well known for my meatballs. So is my mother. And her mother before her. Yes, it is a family talent, and one I will make sure my daughter acquires also.

Bird Followers

2009-02-06T13:47:00.001-08:00

I haven't written for a while. Not that I haven't wanted to, but time just hasn't afforded me time to write. Sometimes I think my days are flying while other days they simply creep along.

This notion of flying always brings to mind those beautiful creatures that fly. Birds. We see them all the time. Birds live in a little cove in my roof. They nest and the babies sometimes drop to my bedroom window sill as they are learning to fly. As the mature the babies learn to "walk on the screen" of my bedroom window. At first I was horrified, but now it is a rite of passage each spring. I don't like birds, but I don't dislike them either. At times they fascinate me. I have never been a bird watcher, but I like to see them flitter about their day. Now that spring might show is warm side, perhaps a robin, the first of the season will grace us one day. I look forward to it.

What really fascinates me is the lengths that some people will go to to watch or keep birds. Take for example this person,

Birdman from Australia

I can only hope he had a good reason to do this. I can't imagine the genius that thought this plan through, or the creativity it took to discover this. Imagine the talk at the dinner table as this was being planned, or the talk at the watercooler by the inspectors that foiled this ingenious plan. I'll never understand bird-people.

I wrote this piece for my good friend Tom. He started me into the blogging adventure, and helps me stay together with it a great deal. I wanted him to read this article, so here it is Tom!!!

My favorite store

2009-01-08T17:10:00.000-08:00

http://www.dreamstime.com/yarn-thumb5448317.jpg

Most of my friends know how much I love to crochet. I have really come to love the challenge of the pattern and the rhythm with which each twist is made. Part of the fun is shopping for yarn. So many colors and textures. I have always been a fan of one store, AC Moore. I have always been able to find what I want, and gotten some reasonably good deals on yarn. My conquests have always been of good quality also.

Recently AC Moore instituted a Rewards program. The customer received one point for every dollar spent. I was offered the program in October. For every 200 points accrued, a $10. gift card would be issued as a thank you for being a good and faithful customer. Well, having spent hundreds of dollars in that store over the years, I happily joined. The quirk of the program was that any points not credited to a gift card, would expire on Jan.4 of the new year.

Now, I am not arguing policy here. The store has every right to set up policy. But, as of Jan. 4, I earned 145 points. And all were dissolved. I understand the policy, but I didn't think it quite fair, given I only had 3 months to earn points. So I wrote to Customer Service. I received an email back from a representative saying that he would forward my letter to the Reward points people. Today I got an automated response, thanking me for being a customer, and hoping for continued loyalty. Nothing about my questions or comments.

Well, I think I have learned my lesson. I have been a good and faithful customer for many years. But sadly, I am no more than a number on a card. AC Moore doesn't really care about its customers, and they probably no longer need my patronage. I don't need the gift card, or the points, what I wanted was a person to read my comments and respond accordingly. AC Moore obviously doesn't have what it takes to be aware of customer feelings. I am saddened that my favorite store is nothing more than an automated warehouse.

It is time to try shopping at Michaels. I hope they consider the customer a little more.

Our Birds!

2009-01-05T19:02:00.000-08:00

http://www.dreamstime.com/bald-eagles-rest-on-tree-image4344078

Aren't they beauties???

Eagles VS Giants Sunday Jan 11.
Let's go Birds. We love ya!!

Back

2009-01-05T18:47:00.000-08:00

"Back to School, Back to School..." Adam Sandler sings it so well in his movie Billy Madison. That is exactly what today was for me. Back to school after the Christmas break. It was a long day. A very long day.

I wonder, what makes the first day back to work after a vacation so long? We work the same number of hours, do the same tasks, basically, but why is the day so long??

I think, for me, I get easily accustomed to the "stay at home" mentality. I enjoy my lazy mornings, laboring over a steaming cup of coffee and the morning paper. I love the daily crossword, in the morning!! Having my most difficult task of the day be deciding what to do that day is a dream. My work days aren't anything close to my off days, and that is a good thing. But what makes that first day so long?

As a Middle School Teacher my days are always busy. I am always running somewhere, and solving some problem. But today wasn't like that. It was calm and laid back. It was just a very long day. I wanted desperately to come home and crochet. But alas I am too tired.

Ah--there is always tomorrow. I think maybe it is bedtime.....

Why?

2008-12-26T13:28:00.000-08:00

A simple three lettered question. Why?

Children. We endure 9 months of backbreaking anguish as we carry them to their birth. Then for a short time we spend endless hours adoring their every movement, noticing such details as how often they yawn, or blink their eyes. As infants there isn't much they do that we don't love, adore, and cherish. We spend endless hours trying to share our amazement with others. Our babies. They are unique, that is until they turn 2, and the tantrums begin. Still we amaze ourselves at how we endure the "terrible twos" and allow these special beings of ours to coexist in our homes.

Too soon childhood passes on to the teenage years. Still starstruck with amazement at the accomplishments of our little ones, the ultimate happens, the driver's license. The amazement passes to worry, and fear. And it never leaves.

This week for the second time in the 13 years I have lived in this house, a young woman, a child, a baby, has been taken from us. Away from life, away from her own future. Away. An accident. It is not known why it happened the way it did, but it did. Our world once again loses a bright spot, a shining star, a lovely baby. An accident. Why?

She was 17. She was driving. She hit a tree and a pole. She was only seconds from her home. She died quickly. Her family is devastated. Those that know her family are at a loss. A mother's baby, gone, a father's pride and joy, gone. Why?

It happened about 10 years ago too. To another family in the same area. That time the baby was 15, she wasn't driving. She was seconds from her home. She too was snatched from the dreams and hopes of her parents, and the comfort of her siblings. Why?

Our children bring such happiness into our lives and all those with whom they have contact. We, as parents, love them with an intensity that only we parents can truly understand. We fill them with our hopes, our excitement, our dreams, until they start to form their own. Then we share in what is to be their person, the gifts they will give to the world, and how they will do their part to make the world better. Our children are our future. That is until the ultimate happens, an accident.

We dare not forget. We must remember. The infancy, the first word, the first step, the tantrums. The memories are all that is left. Her voice, her perfume, her laughter, we struggle to remember, and long to be relieved of this struggle. Life must continue, embedded in the shadows of what will never be. She is not forgotten. She cannot be hidden from memory, for she is alive in the spirit of those who loved her. Both girls live in the memory and hearts of those that knew them, loved them, and now that memory helps their families as they create a new life without them. But why?

Rest in peace,Carolyn and Annie.

What the Heck?

2008-12-21T12:31:00.000-08:00

My friend warned me. She said that they would grow older and more cynical. She warned that their targets would be us. Mom and Dad. She was right. She said to be careful, they do not miss a comment, a statement, or an action. Oh she was so right. Of course she was talking about our children. Her children are a few years older than ours, but are the about the distance apart in age. As they left for college and would come home on vacations, she would tell me of the comedy that would take place in her house. I didn't believe her. I was certain that my children would never pick up on silly things that my husband I would say or do, much less use them as ammunition for amusement. Oh was I wrong.

Our children and boy and girl are now about the ages that my friend's children were when she started to warn me. In her house, the dinner table was stage for her children to start their parody. In our house, it doesn't matter, any place, time or setting works. It seems my husband, their father, and I are prime real estate for entertainment. The sad thing is, it is funny. Watching and listening to them repeat phrases or lines that we have said, completely out of context makes for lots of laughter in our house.

The current favorite is "What the Heck?" I am well known for my misadventures at attempting to cook. Seems as I was preparing Thanksgiving dinner, I had a bit of an accident at the stove, something spilled and caught flame. My response was "What the heck?", and now those three words have become a favorite catch phrase. Today, as our son was decorating the Christmas Tree, he must have muttered it 10 times. I don't know. Every time he did, I laughed. So I say, why do I laugh as he is clearly making fun of me??

Our son manages to catch me completely off guard. As I am crocheting, or he is watching TV, or just reading, he will pop out a "What the heck?" and all of us will laugh. It is funny. Then our daughter chimes in with some inane statement, and he retorts "What the heck?" and we all laugh.

Children. At any age, they bring love into a home, and really do fill the house. I can't imagine my life without my children. My whole adult life has been about children. At first it was other people's children, as I am a teacher. Then my own. I am still teaching, and those "other" children are a huge part of my life, but not nearly as much as my own children.

God gives us our children for just a short time. We must care for them, teach them to judge right from wrong, and how to make good decisions. We must educate them, keep them healthy, and we must worry about them. Then suddenly we celebrate that dreaded 21st birthday, and realize that they are adults. Adults. How did that happen? With a little luck, we did give them that sense of right judgment, the confidence to be independent and the curiosity to never stop learning. We loved them, taught them to love, and to share that love. In return, we signed the lease. We wrote the agreement, and sealed the envelope. You see, when there is love, there is laughter. When there is laughter, love grows. As love grows, so do the bonds that tie a family together.

Children, regardless of their age, are what life is about.

What the heck.

The gift

2008-12-15T17:12:00.000-08:00

This blog is my first Christmas gift this year. Unusual?? Maybe. But a very good friend is responsible for getting me involved in this new hobby. He promises to help me along, and I know he will. Thank you to my friend for opening my world a little more!!

I have discovered how to post, and how to sign on.... that is a first.

..more later

Greetings Angie / thinkerlady

2008-12-11T20:47:00.000-08:00

.

Yes, you are the proud owner of your very own blog!

A day you thought would never come I am sure.

After you scan through these photos and links that celebrate a few things that I suspect you value and enjoy, make sure you stop at the bottom to read some closing thoughts.

Imagine what you can with your own little outpost on the World Wide Web:

Declare your love for Philadelphia sports:

Image source: bryce_edwards via flickr dot com

px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_guIlN783n-0/SUKC0e7EAdI/AAAAAAAAAAc/yVNs7G0txhA/s320/eagles_Dec08.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278925551397241298" />

Image source: Philadelphia Eagles.com

Share the joy of a Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert:

Image source: informant via flickr dot com

Or perhaps simply celebrate the smile on a child's face:

Image source: angela7 via flickr dot com

Oh, one more (hopefully) fun thing for you.

This is a site where you can search flickr dot com for pictures by color. Here is what a representative search by 'pink' might look like:

(click the image for a 'bigger' view)

Link: . Color Search

Some closing thoughts:

Choosing gifts is always a hard thing to do: to catch the nuances of an individual's likes and dislikes, what is fun for them, what might bring a moment of joy or pleasure.

Here I simply tried to share a few things I hope will bring a smile to your face or fill a few minutes online checking out something new.

You obviously can do what you want with this blog. It will be easy to cancel it. Or you could simply keep it. Or you could even use it. By the way, I opened a gmail account in your 'name' also. I will 'gift' that to you also.

Merry Christmas from your Santa elf.