On temperature

It's been a while since I've posted an entry, but last night in bed I decided this essay needed to be written. I am always cold. When anyone else is comfortable in a room, I am cold. My hands and even my nose get icy. Nobody understands it, not even my doctor. There are VERY few times in the summer that I am what I would consider "hot." Through most of the year, this coldness is merely an annoyance. However, when the snow flies, I get desperate. I drink hot teas, even before bed...and yes, I DO have to get up in the middle of the night. I wear layers during the day. I even wear fingerless mittens so my hands are a little warmer, yet I can still play the piano in my classroom. I have snuggly blankets on the couch. I have a snuggly zippered outfit I wear UNDER the snuggly blankets. I wear wool socks to bed. I even put a t-shirt over my head as I'm climbing into bed to keep my body heat in. ( I should really knit a Victorian night cap for myself!) Luckily, my husband is used to my methods of retaining body heat. He wants me to be comfortable. I may not look like a Victoria's Secret model at bedtime. At least I'm not an icicle when interest rises. You know what they say. Cold hands, warm heart.

The greater good

My parents taught me to think of the greater good. So, I'm the type of person that moves all the way down as far as possible in all the shows at Disney World. The people that stop in the middle of a row are...well...SELFISH! "What's in it for me if I move all the way down?" "I want the best seat." That type of person thinks only of themselves and doesn't care that their actions make it harder for others to enjoy the same show. This time of year, similar things happen on hayrides sometimes. People pick the "best" seat and let others crawl over them to squish onto the wagon. Drives me nuts.

Does this tie into the election? Sure. I'm voting Republican for the greater good. I am completely, 100% pro-life. I want every baby to have a chance at life. Hmmm...some of you out there want to know "What's in it for me to have all these babies live?" Well, if you want to talk financially, eventually all those babies will be taxpayers. If you want to talk health care, those babies could be adopted and parents desiring to have a child wouldn't have to pay for all those extreme fertility treatments. (I do believe insurance companies should pay, though. Most will pay for abortions, but many will not pay for even the least treatment for infertility. Talk about unfair!)

Growing government is not in the best interest of "the greater good." What ever happened to America's independent spirit? People used to "do for themselves" and not wait for some government agency to bail them out. Don't get me wrong. I do donate money and food and clothing to those with financial difficulties. To those working poor that just can't make ends meet. I have no problem paying taxes to help those who are truly disabled, either. However, this welfare system we have needs more oversight. Too many out there are just milking the system for everything they can get, knowing that they could, and should, get and keep a job instead. My family escaped a communist regime to MAKE a life for themselves here. Never did they expect anything to be handed to them. We are proud to be productive, tax-paying citizens of this nation. We just want our taxes used wisely, and truly for the greater good.

Spreading the wealth

Senator Obama feels that he should take the money that I earned and share it with those that didn't earn my money. I have two thoughts about that.

1. Isn't it my right to decide to whom I wish to donate money? (By the way, I DO donate money to various charities.)

2. Will Senator Obama's daughters be sharing their Halloween candy with all the kids that didn't go trick-or-treating?

Seasons

Life has its seasons. One day you're in school having a hard time imagining a day when you and your friends won't be together. The next, you're in college and finding new friends. Slowly, your old friends slip away. Class reunions are not what they're cracked up to be. The friends you wish to see again, don't come. The drinkers still drink. The smokers still smoke. At my 20th class reunion, I decided it wasn't worth it because I was so disappointed that so few of my true friends were in attendance.

Then, out of the blue, a friend...an "old" friend sees you at the doctor's office or finds you online. What a kick! Suddenly, you're in a happy game of catch-up. You size each other up in your new grown-up forms. Sometimes, the meeting is fleeting. (Hey, that rhymed!) But other times, the neatest thing happens...you reconnect. Hi Suz! Hi Steve!

Social Logic

During this political season let's be reminded of these wise words:


"You cannot help the poor by destroying the rich.


You cannot strengthen the weak by weakening the strong.


You cannot bring about prosperity by discouraging thrift.


You cannot lift the wage earner up by pulling the wage payer down.


You cannot further the brotherhood of man by inciting class hatred.


You cannot build character and courage by taking away people's initiative and independence.


You cannot help people permanently by doing for them, what they could and should do for themselves."


(Often attributed to Abraham Lincoln, but written by William J. H. Boetcker)

"Coming out..."

I am a public school educator, (a group that is typically quite liberal.) With the impending elections, there is a lot of talk in the teachers' lounge. It makes me so uncomfortable, that I no longer eat lunch there. Instead, a small group of us has been eating in a classroom. We talk. We laugh. We do NOT talk about politics...that is, until Friday. I did it. I outed myself as a conservative. I had suspicions about one of our "lunch bunch," so I said things in a way that would let her know. While our hostess was washing her hands with our backs to us, I casually mentioned that I'm probably the only right-leaning educator in the building. (Leaning??? I'm practically falling on the floor, I'm so right-leaning!) My friend quietly raised her hand! Woo HOOOO! I'm not alone! I knew I liked her! As we left to start our afternoon, my secretly conservative friend told me she got a McCain/Palin lawn sign from someone else that works in our building! The day just kept getting better and better!

At the end of the day, a bunch of us had decided to grab a glass of wine together at a local restaurant/bar when the bell rang. I saw my sign-giving colleague in the hall and outed myself to him, too. "So, Joe, (name changed to protect the innocent,) I hear you have some signs in your car that I might be interested in putting in my yard." He told me he ran out, but would stop by the Republican Party Headquarters soon and would bring me a sign on Monday.

It took him a while to arrive at the restaurant after school. When he sat down, Joe looked at me and said, "I have something in my car for you." Hurray! He had stopped at the Headquarters before coming. After a quick white wine spritzer, I had to leave for a piano lesson and got up to leave. Joe said he'd walk me out. He commented about what the others might be thinking as we walked toward the parking lot. We laughed so much as he walked between the rows of cars to block the sign from view of the other teachers. This election season will be a lot more fun now that I have a secret support group at school.

After I posted about winning the war in Iraq, I got a phone call from the friend I've known the longest. Sue said she'd read my post and told me she's a conservative, too! We've known each other since fourth grade. There's nothing better in the world than finding another connection to a long-time friend. (Hey, Sue, notice I didn't call you an "old" friend. I know I'm older than you.)Let the political emails fly!

Chipmunks

Chipmunks. The word makes people smile. It makes them think of cute, puffy cheeks and adorable little squeaks. Yeah. Those people have never had a family of them living under their house.

Shortly after I put up a bird feeder this summer, I woke to a noise I couldn't identify. A bird? (Pretty LOUD bird!) I dragged myself to the kitchen window to look. No bird. But that repetitive, loud squeak continued. I looked down and saw a chipmunk. How cute! He was right on our front porch. I called the kids over. "Look, kids! A chipmunk...right on our porch! Isn't he cute?" Everyone loved him. He was eating the fallen seed from the feeder. Now, we could watch birds in the mornings, then when they all left, we could watch our furry friend.

Shortly thereafter, we had some landscaping done. Our trees were trimmed. Our front bushes were all replaced. Our chipping sidewalks were replaced. Our grass was reseeded. Our plant beds were reshaped and heavily mulched. It was beautiful! A few days later, I saw a very clear hole in the mulch near our front porch. It was the size of a golf ball. Then I noticed more in and around the new bushes. Covering them didn't work. More holes popped up. I figured it was the chipmunk, but did he really need eleventeen exits to his bachelor pad? Mmmm...now I'm thinking this chipmunk has invited his buddies to move in. Well, do I remove the bird feeder (and the chipmunk's source of food?) My eyes are getting older. If I want to see the birds with any amount of clarity, I need it pretty close to the house. Do I change the feed? (What DO chipmunks eat, anyway?) Maybe if I change the content of the feed, the furbeasts, I mean chipmunks won't like it and go away. None of it matters much because...

A chipmunk has died under our house. How do I know this? There is an aroma. We can't pinpoint it, but it is not at the entrance to the house. It is halfway through the house near the door to the basement. I certainly am not breaking through drywall if I'm not sure of the rotting carcass' exact location. I can't find this flipping thing and it's stinking up my house! I have voice students two days a week. We have to run a "Brethe Machine"(yes, that's the spelling of this scented air purifier) to get rid of some of the smell. Depending on the weather, the odor can get very strong. According to the Internet, chipmunk corpses can take over two weeks to fully dry out and stop stinking. Great. If it's been almost two weeks and the smell is getting stronger, does that mean that I have TWO dead rodents under my house???

I am going to try to get any remaining furbeasts to move out of their condo under my house. I am not going to poison them because they'll likely DIE UNDER MY HOUSE, which is not working out too well for me here. I read that soaking rags in ammonia and stuffing them into SOME of the holes will drive them away. (You have to leave a hole open for them to make their getaway.) Let's hope this works. I've seen "Caddy Shack." Rodents can be cunning... Stay tuned.

Why I knit

According to a magnet I purchased yesterday, "I knit so I don't kill." Knitting, and all my other fibery pursuits, sooth me. They keep my hands busy so I can listen quietly at meetings. They keep my mind busy so I can sit patiently in the waiting room of the medical clinic. Occasionally, life gets in the way and I don't knit (or spin, or weave) for several days in a row. It doesn't take many days before my husband says something wise like, "I haven't seen you knit in a couple of days. Why don't you take some time for a few rows?" (A sentence like that was doubtlessly preceded by a complete melt-down where I found the house "exploded" as I came in from work. Children cowering in the corner push my dh forward to deliver that little speech. OK, perhaps a little exaggerated, but you get the picture.) Knitting is repetitive, meditative and wonderful.

First day of school

Ahhh, the first day of school has come and gone at last. The smell of new crayons. The pitter patter of little feet in the hallways. The lunch hour that goes by oh, so fast. As one of my friends said today, "One down. One hundred seventy nine to go." Kinda takes the wind out of your sails when you put it that way.

The best part of the first day is seeing how much the kids have grown. For an elementary music teacher, the first day of school is also a day to check out each teacher's class and try to figure out how to separate all the students that need separating. If a kid is already naughty on the first day of school, you're probably in for a rough year with them. Best to prevent problems and put those in need of closer supervision (or quick intervention) in the front. With nearly 500 students to deal with, I dread the slow process of figuring out seating charts. Seating charts are essential to my learning so many names, so I guess I'd better get cracking on those!

On Grief

Grief is something Americans are generally uncomfortable talking about. No one knows what to say at funerals. After the first few days following the burial, people just stop checking up on those who lost a loved one. I think that's because it's hard for us to watch someone suffering pain that we cannot fix.

Grief comes in different forms and for different reasons. I have always been considered "the sentimental one" in the family. Recently I figured out that it's not that I'm sentimental in the traditional sense. (Ok. I AM sentimental in the traditional sense, too.) It's more that I am grieving for things yet to be lost. That probably sounds crazy. Maybe so, but I've been this way as long as I can recall.

I remember being little and holding my dog, Heidi, while I cried. She wasn't sick. She was fine. I just knew that "someday" she would die and I cried about it before it even happened. That's my first memory of what I'm going to call pre-grief.

Parenting is a LONG string of pre-grieving opportunities. Every new thing a child does marks the end of a phase of their childhood. As happy as I am that I don't have to change diapers anymore, it is unbearably sad that my kids will never be that small again. My son started pre-school yesterday. A stepping stone to new possibilities and a little step away from little boyhood.
My daughter is 10 and still likes to hold my hand as we walk around places. No matter how hot it is that day, I always let her because there will come a day that she won't want to anymore.

This pre-grief thing is a hard way to live. Still, I think it makes me very appreciative of what I have. I try to squeeze every ounce of special-ness out of each moment I live.

What about real grief? When I've passed through one of those moments I had dreaded and mourned ahead of time, it's like looking into a box filled with familiar but difficult memories. I've in essence practiced for this moment. When a wave of true "now" grief passes over me, I peek into that box and live with the feelings as long as I can stand it, then close the lid. Each time I have to pull out that "box" my feelings are a little different. I recently told a friend about this after the loss of her daughter. The loss never goes away. However, the way you view the event, and yourself, definitely changes. There have been times when I felt like the weakest person alive. Later, sometimes much later, I look back and I can see that even during those helpless moments, I had an inner strength I didn't know about at the time.

Grief is unavoidable. It's part of the human experience. Grief is a sign held up to express what we value and how important it is to us. Even if we grieve in a very private way, the fact that we do at all is a sign that marks a moment in our journey through life.

On Responsibility...

Well, it's the last day of summer before I go back to school. I always get a little sad this time of year. Today, to cheer myself up, I wanted to take the family to the pool, but it was barely 70 degrees at 1:00. I'm not a fan of being cold. To me, 70 degrees is bordering on long-sleeve weather, yet here I was getting everyone excited to go for a dip. We went. It was fun. Cold, but fun. HOWEVER, as we entered the sand play-area, I noticed a woman in a bikini...older than me...who should have been responsible enough NOT to wear one. She had a nice figure. Don't get me wrong. However, as she leaned down to get more sand for her son, um...things released themselves from their rightful places, if you know what I mean. Either she was reeeeeally comfortable with her body or had no idea what was happening. Well, I was there with my children and husband, none of whom have any need to see her wares. What did I do? Was I tempted to inform her of her exposure? Of course. Did I actually go tell her? No. How in the world do you find the right words for that. Think about it for a minute! I did tell my DH to look the other way, and why. We didn't play in the sand long.

Our fun at the pool didn't end there. We did get wet (and cold.) I also sprung for treats at the concession stand. As we sat down to enjoy our snacks, we heard a group of boys in about 3rd grade chatting away and one of them said, "holy cr*p!" Both my DH and I yelled in unison, "Hey! Watch the language!" They shut up pretty fast. Mere minutes later, two of the boys were STANDING on the table! This time I yelled at them to get down, that people put their food on that table and don't want their gross foot germs on their food. I asked where their parents were. "I dunno," was the reply. "Who's in charge of you here?" "Our teacher." "Where is she?" "I dunno." Let's refer back to the title. Where was the grown up responsible for these children? Did I follow the boys to their "teacher?" You bet I did! She was a middle-aged woman sitting in her comfy lounge chair far, far away from the boys. When I told her what had happened, she asked who the boys were. I saw one of the good boys right at her feet. He's the one I followed. I told her that I didn't know, but I bet HE did! That boy squealed like a stuck pig! The culprits were segregated and dealt with. My daughter decided I deserved a "high five" for how I handled things. I like for her to see me stand up for what is right. That way, when it's her turn, she'll do it and not think twice.

Making ripples

Like a pebble thrown into a pond, every choice we make causes ripples of change to reach where we cannot imagine. This is a concept I discuss with my students at the start or each school year. (If you think about it, even the kind of cereal you buy changes things a tiny bit, if you "follow the money" out from the grocery store.) We talk about how some choices bring about unfavorable outcomes that ripple out as well, so we need to make our choices carefully. I believe in this concept so deeply that I put "RIPPLES" on my license plate. Yes, strangers stop me at gas stations to ask me about it. I'm always happy to give them the main idea. When my students see me driving around town, they explain my license plate to their parents. The ripples continue.

Do tiny changes add up? Sure! Cleaning your house for 5 minutes a day makes it 5 minutes cleaner than if you hadn't cleaned at all, right? Those 5 minutes add up. Sometimes, all you need is that 5 minute start and you end up doing more than you expected. If you have children, they watch what you do. They learn. The ripples continue.

What kind of ripples have brought me to where I am? Watching my family go to church every weekend of my childhood...teachers continually reaching out to me so I wouldn't quit...and...and...

What about you? What kind of ripples are you making today?

It begins...

Me? A blogger? What a silly thought! Yet I have been told that my writing style makes people laugh. Makes people think. That appeals to the teacher in me. Who am I? I'm a wife, mother, elementary music teacher, singer, knitter, spinner and amateur philosopher. Warning. I tell the truth. Truth-tellers aren't always popular. I am also a conservative Christian and do not apologize for it. I have many friends of different political and religious affiliations and we get along swimmingly. However, if you will be offended by my religious beliefs, political views or my take on life in general, I wish you good luck in finding a blog that will suit you better. Rather than posting hurtful comments, I hope you will use your energy to pursue your truth.