Tuesday Too #23

1.) Do you have a friend like Mr. Potatoehead? In other words do you have a friend that trouble seems to follow like a bad penny? Tell us about that friend or one of his/her bad pennies?

I do know a woman who has a really tragic, heartbreaking life - one thing after another, all very serious, life-changing, sorrowful events - something like the trials of Job. Somehow, she manages to keep it together - at least in public anyway. I also have a friend (or she used to be my friend, before the disintegration became too far gone for me to continue enabling) who has a hard life due to alcoholism. That was not the root of her problem, years ago - but now it has blossomed into the most serious of her problems. Both situations are too sad, and private, for me to elaborate more at the moment, although in the future I may write on this subject, or I might post a link to some things I have already written.


2.) Was there something you really meant to accomplish, or really wanted to do that you didn't do last week? How come you didn't do it?

Well, I wanted to go the the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival last weekend, and I also wanted to go to the Greene County Youth Fair. I didn't go to either, but instead worked around the house and in the yard. It is a rare weekend that we spend at the weekday house, and there were so many projects to do. This place really needed some attention. We made a lot of progress - moved a large forsythia bush with the truck and a rope; put in a set of stairs from the side of the house to sidewalk level (something I've wanted for 10 years to improve access to the garden), and started staining the fence. Another reason we stayed home was that Dave Carter, a musician we really wanted to see at the folk festival, died a week or so before, at age 49, from a heart attack. His partner, Tracey Grammer still performed; Bob wasn't really feeling up to a memorial. Then, there are several more fairs nearby in August, and we will be sure to go to at least one. Finally, we had tickets to see the Dave Matthews Band in Saratoga last night, we knew we were definitely going, that it would be a very late night, and honestly there is a limit to the old stamina.


3.) Pretend you're in the market for a therapist. What would be the therapist's most desirable quality? Why that one?

Hmmm...I'm not sure. I'm not really in the market, to tell you the truth, so it is kind of hard to pretend. "Good listener" comes to mind, as does "excellent education and credentials," "philosophy I find palatable," "references," and "takes insurance/realitic fees."

Posted July/August updates to the Gully Brook Press website. In the newsletter, I decided to share For Sale, the story from my post below.

To the bio page, I added some links to a mixed bag of education sites.

It was fun to scan categories of my pinback button collection and post them here on occasion, and they really need some TLC - they are dusty, the collection has grown and not all can be displayed, and when I started collecting them - I didn't care as much about preserving them. So, as part of the re-organization of my collection, I thought, why not capture the images? The Virtual Museum pays a visit as I begin this process; the number of images will grow as I have time.

The green beans are ready! The cucumbers will be soon. A sunflower is blooming. Yippee and yum. Almost makes hot weather worth it. [See last month's Virtual Museum.]

Thunderstorm yesterday leads to beautiful weather today. The power went out for about 2 minutes here - just enough to make digital clocks everywhere start flashing, a couple of alarm clocks, the VCR, even the no-account coffee maker, for pete's sake. This was a technological advance? Here in the office, I have a trusty old analog clock - the kind grandma had hanging in her kitchen. It has a double scalloped edge, and it was white until Bob splatter painted it blue and black when we were decorating the office during renovations of this house. I think I have had it since I was in college in Oneonta. It may be a bit slow now - I didn't have it set to precisely the right time anyway, time is cyclical, so who cares? - but after those two minutes it started up, no resetting necessary.

Today is opening day at Saratoga. Now, there's something to get worked up about: horse racing. I detest it. That's a pretty radical sentiment around here, where fans spend the entire month of August drooling about the "sport" every year. Here are my thoughts on the subject during an August past. As it happens, I am going to Saratoga on Monday, but to see the Dave Matthews Band at the performing arts center. At the moment I'm thinking, what was I thinking when those tickets were purchased? I usually avoid Saratoga during racing season like the plague.

Endless grading during summer session - working on essay #4. I have rejected more than half of this batch, and I am making them re-write. What is it about being required to "use citations to literature" that students just don't get?

And now for the Tuesday Too:

1.) Do you think pornography is dangerous? Why, or why not?

Yes and no. I think no in general, when the issue is "run-of-the-mill porno" (although I do wonder who would want to participate in the industry), but I believe when it involves kids or violence, dangerous is far too mild a word.

2.) What do you think about people being held in jail without charges, without access to a lawyer, or a phone call for an indeterminate period of time?

Despite my feelings about there being way too many lawyers and far too much litigation in our society, I am 100% in favor of the protections afforded us in the Constitution, understand why they are important, and feel very wary of shortcuts. On the other hand, when something happens like that little girl in CA being molested and killed, with the (yes, alleged) murderer arrested twice before for improper dealings with young girls, but never convicted (which his mother claims is "never being in trouble before"), I wonder what rights for the accused in our system may have resulted in such an unacceptable outcome.

3.) How do you feel about this US program?

This has to do a bit with Question #2, as well. I know I am probably supposed to be all worked up and alarmed over both these things, but I'm not. My thoughts have a different texture since 9/11; before that I am ashamed to say I was very naive. I have not written a lot here about this subject and its impacts, and for personal reasons I don't plan to start now, but please - I hope my mail carrier etc. is being vigilant. I wish we all were, before, and maybe there wouldn't be a crater in Manhattan.

Feeling a bit under the weather...not sure if it is dehydration, something I ate, or a 24 hour bug. Yesterday we worked, with my incredibly fit parents and a really nice young man, our 15 year old neighbor, on the pool site. All items that may be dangerous to liners are gone (no small task on land where there are more stones than dirt), the sand has been spread, the bottom ring is assembled, and each block, where a post will rest, has been leveled, with the help of my new transit-using skill. Now it waits two weeks, til we return for several days - and it goes up. We may yet swim this summer!

It was hot, tiring work. Last night I slept poorly, had crazy, exhausting dreams, and abdominal pain. Today, only toast with apricot jam was appealing. There is no-one to take the calling in sick phone message when you freelance at home, so I spent the day finishing up evaluations of essays. I hoped to fit in a bit of cleaning - the house surely needs it - but that, and much else, will have to keep. I have been drinking water, and feel a bit better now, but I am thinking of corn flakes with milk and peaches for dinner. The topics were inclusion of students with special needs in the classroom, or the impact of school choice reforms on education in the dawning of the 21st century, and more students chose inclusion.

Enjoyed the first local sweet corn of the season this weekend, as part of an all fruit & vegetable (asparagus, avocado, corn, strawberries, cherries, nectarines) dinner. Yum! I'm sure the discomfort wasn't from that!

I think I may have to make those updates to my website be for July/August. Summer session, plus the pool install and assorted other summer activities take priority.

The only thing I'll add to my defense of the past [see 7/18 below] is that it must have been pretty cool when manure was the environmental hazard from needing transportation faster than your own two feet.

Finished midpoint evaluations for class, and sent out the good, bad, and mixed news via email. Time to take a break from Big Blue, check the garden, figure out dinner.

Something about transforming journals from print to electronic that maybe isn't always such a great thing: as I surf around I am struck by the in-general negative tone of much of the writing. Journaling has been a venting tool for me in my life at times, and so it is natural that it would serve that purpose in digitland, as well. But in print, well, the volumes slumbered in some drawer or shared a shelf with classic once-read books. People read them on the web - or at least there is that potential. Venting is positive, I'm sure, but I guess what I'm feeling is that I can't abide all the complaining, and I think life is a lot more fun without a chip on your shoulder.

Tapped out for now. Grading is quite tiring. And it is very, very hot today. Oh, read my defense of the past on Blogsisters.

Since jf is away, the Tuesday Too was up early this week, but I decided to wait.

1.) What is the most important thing going on in your life this week?

This is a fairly routine week. I guess most significant is evaluating my students' discussion and journal assignments, and giving them a mid-semester idea of how they are doing on those areas of the course. Seems odd to do this after only three weeks! On the trite side, working on the pool this weekend will be the most important fun thing.


2.) Tell us about your quintessential faux pas.

Several years ago, after I got serious about being published, I sent one of my still-favorite (and still unpublished) short-shorts, "For Sale," to House Beautiful. A few weeks later, I received a letter from an editor, saying the story was lovely, but too short for their magazine. A telephone number was listed, and an invitation to call and chat was included. Now, as all writers know, any sort of personal and positive letter, even if it is a rejection, is a big victory for an aspiring author, and I was thrilled.

I gave it some thought, then picked up the phone and called. In my world, higher education administration, that number would have gotten me the editor's secretary, and this is what I expected. But when I asked the person who answered for the editor, it turns out the number was the editor's direct line. I had developed a confidence in my profession as an educator, but as a hungry would-be writer, taken by surprise, I had somewhere around zero self-esteem. I stumbled over what I planned to say, then finally made my pitch, which was to increase the length of "For Sale" to be within House Beautiful's guidelines by adding in some elaboration on - oh, I can't remember exactly what any more, but this was the general idea. She replied, "that story was perfect the way you wrote it; I don't think adding to it would be appropriate. I was thinking maybe you had some ideas for other stories you would like to tell me about." I was speechless; felt like a greenhorn; I had absolutely nothing prepared. I said I didn't have any, I can't remember doing a thing to close any sort of deal or even leave the door open for future exploration, and so -- feeling humiliated and pretty silly, I let a major market opportunity slip through my fingers. But I did learn from that experience.


3.) Why would you most likely be nominated to speak your mind, and what is it you're going to say?

I do speak my mind about educational issues when teaching the Social Foundations of Education, but I try to be fair and as unbiased as possible in my approach, and open to the students' varied perspectives, as I don't believe the lectern should be the bully pulpit. Also, I am interested and experienced in online delivery, the status of adjuncts, and student ethics; these are topics I sometimes share with others.

As an administrator, I made presentations on a regular basis, about mathematics assessment and student preparation level for the study of college mathematics. I continue to be asked, on occasion, to speak on these topics. (In recent years, I don't always agree to do it.)

In terms of personal interests, I have made presentations about various aspects of history: primarily local/regional, and genealogical research, and these are the subjects about which I am most likely to be asked to talk.

What do I say on these subjects? Too much to list here, and some of it is rather dry! I have information on my Gully Brook Press website about history (one room schools), genealogy (here and here), and mathematics assessment (the latter is an excerpt from my dissertation); the July updates that are in the works will focus broadly on education.

Another week begins; the class is half over. I didn't get to make the July updates to the Gully Brook Press website last week, and since there is even more evaluation to be done for class at the moment, it is going to be hard to fit it in this week, too, but I plan to try. I do have some theme ideas brewing, and there are no "days off" in the works, so it may pan out.

We worked on our pool site this weekend. My father showed me how to use a contractor's level, and we determined that there is a ten inch differential in the slope, so this week he will bring his backhoe over and change that. Next weekend, we'll rake the spot, spread the base sand around, and put in the 21 blocks that will support the side rails. Then, a two-week break as we spend a weekend working here, on our summer-long retaining wall project, and go to a nearby bluegrass festival. We are targeting the first weekend in August for actually putting up the pool, and having the water truck come to fill it.

It's good that yardwork is a favorite activity for both of us, and that we don't care about travel-type vacations, or having two houses would be a hassle rather than a pleasure. I worked for most of yesterday on the garden there, staking the tomato plants, watering, weeding, and mulching. It won't be long until the green beans and squash are ready. My legs are a little sore today. I think I will do a little yardwork here, this afternoon. The flowers need watering. I wish we would get some rain; usually August is drought season. This much dryness in July is kind of scary.

Finished grading essays, yea! Most students chose to write on character education rather than John Dewey. This is what always happens when I give a choice in essays, which is a shame since learning about Dewey is a lot more important (and I pessimistically suspect it means the part of the reading that focused on Dewey's theories was not read by many of the students who chose the character question). It is always a struggle for me, the tension between letting students be self-directed and have lots of leadership opportunities, something that seems so vital to learning, and on the other hand, having to accept that with flexibility students will decide to leave out studying something really vital. Sigh. Anyway, overall they were a good batch of assignments - summer students are a serious bunch.

It is over a month since I started to wear my orthopedic shoes - and a few weeks since I have been using the orthotic inserts. I am happy to report that my feet are doing great; another triumph for alternative therapies, instead of our beloved medical model!! Related to the beloved, in the news this week, lots of attention on the risks to women of hormone replacement therapy. This is something that I had suspected for a long time; I remember whispers of possible problems for years. Now it has been validated. I think the Patti LaBelle commercial, where she is singing about a new attitude, is pretty irritating. Of course, I find most advertisements for prescription drugs to be obnoxious. Such a big industry. As if a pill is always the best approach to wellness! Certainly it is easier than approaches that involve taking responsibility, though, right?

But the hormone ads especially bother me, because of the cruelty to horses involved in the manufacture of Premarin. Some women act like hormone replacement therapy to help with the unpleasant symptoms of menopause is some kind of right in the sacred choice arena, and many doctors seem to think that it would be silly to not embrace it if there is any discomfort. It is the #2 prescribed drug! So the study's findings were good news for horses. Maybe now that increases in strokes, cancer and heart disease have been linked to these hormones, everyone will get a new attitude, the Premarin mares will have a chance, and the doomed foals will never be born. Oh, I hope so.

The hay total was 642 bales. Not the biggest year yet, but not the smallest, either, and it is enough to winter the horses. I was assigned to the barn, rather than the field (I prefer the field, but I didn't make a fuss). Sunday we had a much bigger crew, but it was hotter than Saturday, hazy and kind of hard to breathe from the Canadian wildfire smoke that drifted south. The wind has changed now, but the report is that the haze may return later this week.

Here's the Tuesday Too #20 (once done I must return to grading essays...this week's topics: character education and Dewey's theories on learning).

1.) Yes conflicting theories abound, what do you think dreams (nightly adventures) mean, or do you subscribe to a particular theorist and why?

Sometimes I'll have a spell where I remember lots of dreams, and at other times there are long stretches where I don't remember a thing. During the times where I remember them, I tend to think about dreaming more, what it may mean, etc. Sometimes it is obvious, I have been thinking about certain things, and they pop up in my dreams. Other times it is more complicated. But I have always been fond of thinking of dreams, especially when they are fun adventures and not too upsetting or scary, as "my other life." (It will be very interesting to read jf's thesis.)


2.) When you are confronted by a homeless person asking for change, how do you respond? How does it make you feel? If you've never been in this situation, imagine it, and calculate your response.

For years, I always gave money when asked - figuring, if the person is asking, they must really need it, and who cares for what. Then one bright sunny day, at about lunchtime, I was across the street from work, strolling along while daydreaming, and I was assaulted by an (apparently) homeless person. He hadn't said a word to me first, he just stared at me with what I can still remember clearly as extremely red eyes, and grabbed me. It happened so fast, and I managed to get away that day (relatively) unharmed, but for years afterwards I felt a fear whenever I was approached. I was troubled by my behavior, but I didn't want to be at risk, either, so I started to donate to food pantries and shelters, thinking that if a desperate person needed food, they should go there, and when on the street I kept very alert. Rather than refusing to give money, I instead did my best to avoid any sort of encounters. Now the fear has (mostly) subsided, or at least I don't think about it too much, and I have reverted back to my old ways (although I continue to donate to the food banks), but since my worklife is so much different now, it is only on rare occasions that I am walking alone in a place where I might be asked for money.


3.) Do you feel you have been short changed in any way by destiny/fate/god? If so, how?

Absolutely not, I feel very lucky, fortunate, blessed, thankful, etc.

Technical problems plagued me on Wednesday. Everything was going great - grades were ahead of schedule - but my cable ISP didn't cooperate. And, they have the worst customer service and technical support; I think their training program teaches the following steps: (1) transfer the customer several times, and make them re-explain the problem each time; (2) disconnect a few times; (3) report that there are no problems with the network; (4) insist that any problem is not their responsibility because it must be caused by (a) the user, (b) the user's software, and (c) the user's hardware, (5) repeat steps 1-4 numerous times; (6) as a last resort, own up to the problem, but say it is being worked on, and offer no timetable or solution. A shouting match seems to be the only way to get their attention - and even that means at least a two day wait for a technician. Could satellite be the way to go?

So - I did get the grades posted (by resorting to dial up), but no work on my proposal excerpt, and little preparation for the trip to the other house. That's where I am now. Some of today was spent haying - we got in 141 bales. The bulk of the field will be done tomorrow. I have to fit in curriculum updates for class by Monday, 12 noon. Our pool will be delivered that day! And then it is back to the other house...

Now begins a few weeks of "I'm too busy." There are many essays to grade for class. This will probably take me through tomorrow, although this heat means I must fit in watering the plants somewhere! And, if I don't procrastinate too much more, I might be able to work on creating an excerpt of my book proposal, something I really want, and need, to do. We leave tomorrow evening or early Thursday for the other house, where we will be spending several days - so some preparation time for that has to be planned, also. Many activities will be taking place during this holiday: a BBQ, a visit from my in-laws, and (very likely) haying, but it will be nice if I can still get some work done from there. July updates to the Gully Brook Press website will have to wait until next week, I guess (& I can only hope to have time then).

Not sure when I'll get to posting in the ejournal, though, and I don't have the software on my other PC to share these images in honor of Independence Day, so I thought I'd do it today, when I am here answering the Tuesday Too (see below). The first and third were taken in 1997, on a wonderful birthday visit to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty with my sister, my father and Bob (we are all lifelong New Yorkers - or in my father's case, just about - and none of us had ever gone either place; you can see a few more snapshots of that day at the Gully Brook Press virtual museum for May, "Immigrant Roots"), the second is another peek at my pinback button collection.








Here's the Tuesday Too # 19

1.) What do you find most troubling about your way of life? If your life is carefree please give me a hint, which has nothing to do with winning the lottery.

Carefree - I love and disdain the sound of words and now there's a beautiful word. I try to live according to my beliefs, but not having made the commitment to be a vegetarian is something with which I struggle.

2.) What is your prescription (non psychotropic), or outlet for dealing with stress and anxiety?

I can lose myself in reading or writing. I do like wine, and in moderation it works. The treadmill is a help, as are eating out, or elaborate, creative cooking. Talking to Bob or another family member or friend, fussing over the animals, going to the weekend house to absorb the natural beauty, and prayer, are several more items in the toolbox. Sometimes a simple strategy like playing music I love as a background, and doing a mindless task like washing the dishes, or sorting paper for recycling, while thinking remedies things. I grapple with finding adequate channels for my energy, and recently I have been reading the Relaxation and Stress Reduction Workbook. Unfortunately, I haven't adopted the principles yet, but my plan is to at least try to add skilled relaxation as a coping skill. But my all-time favorite is gardening, and it will probably remain that way.

3.) What's the real reason you get up every morning?

Because I am well-rested (& I have to pee :-).

It's late and I have an early day planned; Ma & I are going to do a little cemetery research in the morning, part of our genealogy quest. Tonight I had to download my course database on this computer, because the schedule is intense, and for the first week or so the students need a lot of help navigating the whole idea of online delivery. I think during summer session I am going to have to spend a lot more time on the computer on weekends when I'm here, even with the dial-up connection instead of the cable one that has spoiled me, and even though outdoors calls me. So, I thought I would take a few minutes to make an entry in my ejournal (I can never go with the flow, and I prefer that over what I consider to be the very ugly b-word) from this house, which is something I have wanted to do for a while. The garden here is doing great! The borage in particular is thriving. I picked some lettuce. I did my volunteer stint at the museum room today; there are never many visitors, and on a beautiful day like this, what with all the high school graduations scheduled, people weren't exactly pouring into the library. So I passed the time by reading; first a chapter or two in John Adams (I got it for Christmas, but my interest waned a bit when I heard the plagiarism allegations). Now I am up to his election to President. Then, the library was having a book sale, so I bought two paperbacks (as if I need more books; already there is almost no room in either house for anything else) - Ethan Frome, which I love but did not own, and a book by Margaret Atwood that I hadn't heard of before. Right now, reading is more appealing to me than typing...'night.

Over at Testzone, jf has been doing some beautiful and bittersweet writing about her parents' aging, and a related issue, death. When I have written about wondering whether it is good or bad to be introspective and self-conscious, this is one important part of the consideration. I read jf's entry and asked, "How do we learn to navigate between the paralysis of a depressing awareness and the freedom of a shallow denial?"

I did a lot of reading on the subject when I was a teenager; recently I unpacked a box of books that had long been in storage, and there were Life After Life, On Death and Dying, The Evidence for Life After Death, and Death Be Not Proud, among others. More recently I read the supremely comforting Embraced by the Light. In college I took the anthropology of death, and music and death. And my connection to the past, to history and genealogy, to cemeteries, objects and records, is related.

Of course I've done some writing on the subject; from Gully Brook Press there's Compost Pile, and my tributes Bus Ride (privately printed), Howie and Penny at Dogstar and Sirius (or go to Sirius' memorial webpage from the Port Authority).

80% is a B- but this is one time that's A-OK with me! My orthotics from Advanced Tech came today. They were a nice, efficient company with which to do business. My feet have been gradually doing a lot better because of my new Dexter shoes, but I am eager to see if custom 80% insurance-reimbursable shoe inserts will make them good as new. Well, that's too much to hope for - the nature of this problem is that they weren't really good when they were new - but the instructions say that I should notice about an 80% improvement in a month, and that it may take several days or even weeks for me to get used to them. If that level of improvment happens, I won't care that the 80% reimbursement has to go against a deductible first! My left foot, which is the most painful, is protesting the orthotic...owww...that's the same thing that happened with the new shoes. But only time will tell.

Here is an editorial, "One Nation Under God," from the New York Times. I couldn't agree more. No need to elaborate, bravo NYT!

And here is another editorial, this one from Time.com, entitled "Please. Somebody Derail Amtrak." I couldn't disagree more. Here's my letter to the editor, based on an earlier one to et al. (and from Gully Brook Press, a short essay from 2001 entitled Amtrak Summer).

If I get through the work I need to do for class (roster reconciliation and some curriculum tinkering for next week), I plan to reward myself by putting mulch in the garden. It rained last night and I want to save future watering by capturing that moisure in the soil. Planted lettuce yesterday, better late than never. The roses are in bloom!

In August's The Writer (I continue to subscribe even though I still mourn the passing of its old format and design every time I pick it up, sigh), there was a brief article entitled "Learning the Art of Self-Promotion." I mention this not because of the marketing tips it contained (which are good), but because it was by James V. O'Connor, who has written a book called Cuss Control: The Complete Book on How to Curb Your Cursing. Although I have always detested the word "cussing," and much prefer either "swearing" or "cursing" over it, I was intrigued by the idea; O'Connor states that "My intention was to convince people that swearing is abrasive, lazy language." He has a website on the subject as well.

He makes some interesting points. I don't like profanity; I do use it sometimes, but I try to keep it to a minimum. If I feel I must use a "four letter" word, I prefer to say "f-word" or write just three letters, and substitute a dash for one. When I was getting my MPA, I had a professor who couldn't string together five words without having three of them be profane. Now, sure I've used, and heard swearing a lot and not been that offended, but it reached a ridiculous level in this class. It interfered with learning. Sure, I remember the class - the professor's sarcastic, negative approach and trashy mouth.

In younger days, I know I did resort to it a lot more, but I made a serious effort to change that years ago, and I'm happy I was successful. Now when I hear (or read) someone who uses vulgarities every other word, I think, "what a slob." It doesn't matter what they are saying or writing, really. But then it is hard to say or write anything elegant when the sentences are full of litter. It has become so commonplace in society that we are numb to it, I think. It's funny, when I go to a movie and the f-words are kept to a minimum or are non-existant, I probably notice that more now! (An aside, this was just one of the many merits of Minority Report, which I saw over the weekend.) Profanities infect much of weblogland, too. But it is the couch potato of language, so overused and cliche. One part meaningless, one part tacky, and a poor substitute for a more precise modifier. In most cases it strikes me as not one bit creative or clever. And certainly not polite. Anything that contributes to the rudeness of our communities - virtual or face-to-face - saddens me.

There's power in language - but let's leave that for another day.

Back from a long weekend. Tired today. Spent a wonderful day yesterday, not counting the steam-bath level heat, connecting with distant relatives from Florida, New Mexico, New Jersey (& of course New York) in celebration of family history, at an old inn, the Beekman Arms, founded by our ancestors. Class started yesterday, and I am fielding the usual array of panic questions about course requirements. Is is Tuesday already?

Tuesday Too # 18

1.) When was the last time your pet gave you a scare? What happened? If you're not a "pet person", how come?

Not a pet person! Perish the thought!

My need to overprotect the animals leads to many scares, and what has turned out to be uncalled for worry throughout their long lives. But here are three real incidents with my present zoo:

The last one with Edna, my cat, was several weeks ago. I live in a good place for cats, so she does get to go outside sometimes, although I don't let her stay out there at night, or for hours. Several houses down the street there is an abandoned house that provides shelter for some feral cats, and one of them - a shiny, slinky tiger-striped kitty attacked Edna, and punctured her side in three places. Now, Edna is oldish - at least ten, gentle and beautiful. Shortly after I let her inside, I noticed blood droplets on the floor. I tried to inspect her, but her hair is long, and even though she is gentle, she wasn't very cooperative. I washed her the best I could with peroxide, fussed over her all night, and in the morning we made an emergency trip to the vet. A few days later she developed a cat cold from the trauma and antibiotics; she has a great appetite but refused food and hid under the bed. She's a big cat, but in no time she was vanishing before my eyes. I did manage to get her to eat a little ice cream, and eventually I threw away the antibiotics - she recovered like magic. The bald spot is almost completely grown in now, and I'm relieved that she now tends to stay inside the fence.

Sophie, my special needs hound, causes almost continuous scares because of her various conditions, but the worst in memory was last summer, when she was stung by a bee. She is allergic to everything, her face swelled up like marbles, she was panting like crazy - I thought she would die before anything could be done. An emergency phone call to the vet was reassuring, and I gave her a Benedryl - and she was fine.

Rudy, the joy of my life, is shiny and happy and always smiling - the picture of good health and good nature. He is well behaved, and has not caused a scare since he was a young pup. But despite my best efforts, he used to find ways to wiggle out of the fence, or slip out the door - and run, as fast and far as possible. The worst was once when we were visiting my in-laws, who live in a much busier area than either of my houses, and he ran right into traffic. My heart stopped. But in one of those occasions where you just know God is smiling down, and we should all take the time to count our many reasons to be optimistic and thankful for our blessings, a man stopped his car and used it to block traffic - and promptly captured my mischievous canine.

2.) How do you think the things that you think, in other words what do you think consciousness is?

Wow. I don't want to respond, "I have no idea," because that is clueless...but this is a very complex, interesting question. Sometimes I think I am too self-conscious and introspective. Sometimes I think life is easier when it is viewed simply. I have always enjoyed spending solitary time - thinking. Riding a bus, train, or as a passenger in a car, looking out the window at nature zip by, inspires thought. Music can provide the background for reflection, too. Reading sparks me sometimes. Other times, an important incident of some sort happens - and that makes me think, later.


3.) Taking off from last Tuesday's question # 3, check this out: Women's Treaty, and do something about it. If you don't live in the United States, check out the position of your country on the treaty. Thanks to Elaine for her post on the treaty.

OK.

The garden is coming along. Every day I visit my seedlings, and imagine the bounty of green beans, beets, zucchini and tomatoes that will be produced in the future. I'm thinking a lot about food today. My niece is graduating from high school, and her party is Sunday. Hard to imagine 18 years have gone zipping by! I got an email message from her brother yesterday, with the subject line "amazing cooking skills requested," asking me to make a big pan of eggplant parmesan for the occasion. Now, with that kind of pitch, how could I say anything but yes? But I guess you know she must be pretty special for me to turn on my oven during a miserably hot day like today.

So I ventured out last evening and got all the needed ingredients - I don't usually have four large eggplants just laying around in the fridge, but I have yet to get the pot of sauce going. I'm also still deciding: fry or bake the cutlets? Fried is more delicious, much less healthy, and very messy. Baked is still pretty tasty, healthier, and will make the house temperature unbearable. Hmmm...

Thinking about either outcome, even in this heat, is making my mouth water. Eggplant parmesan is just about my favorite food. In my former life, I used to eat my lunch out every day, and I loved doing that. But when I have a full pantry from a recent trip to the market, I can whip up some pretty fine lunches right here. So today I made Barilla tortelloni, and greens & beans. Those tortelloni are so delicious - a recent discovery. I could do an advertisement for them, no problem. They come in several varieties, but my favorite is asparagus and ricotta. They are yummy, or my name isn't Giuliano!

I didn't have any white beans before I went to the market (I confess, I made the greens & beans yesterday, and just heated up a bowl today) so I used chick peas instead and it came out heavenly! For sauce, since the pot is still in the planning stages, I had to "make do." In the past I always refused anything but from scratch. My thinking is, if it comes from a jar, it must be crap! But another recent discovery, not for real cooking like the eggplant parm I promised Genny, but for quick meals like lunch while working, is sauce made by a nearby favorite restaurant, Villa Valenti. I felt good about trying it because I love eating there; you can almost imagine grandma cooking away in the kitchen. The supermarket just started to carry two varieties, primavera and traditional, and Rudy and Sophie give it two paws up.

Now, you'd think by all I just wrote that I live to eat, rather than eat to live...which isn't true. But treadmilling does make me very hungry!

I like lists. I've been blessed with a sharp memory, but I still jot things down so that I won't forget to buy trash bags, cat food, or soap for S'ville. I always made "to do" lists for work, but lately, working at home, I become so focused in a project - contract work or curriculum updates that I haven't been good about keeping a prioritized work list. It hit me last night that some things are slipping through the cracks; I may forget to pay a bill, or send a card for someone's special day. In the past, working elsewhere, the bi-weekly payday was the trigger to pay bills, and the lunch time stroll took place near a Hallmark shop.

So, I resolved to make a to do list today, and in the process realized I needed to complete my faculty activity report for 2001-02. It is optional for adjuncts, but encouraged, and with the dismal state of the budget in post-9/11 New York, it is a good idea to trumpet one's activities. Computer forms still leave a lot to be desired. I first downloaded the form and intended to complete it in a word processor. Any time I share a document with others, I use a Microsoft product, since it is the "standard." And so - of course! about halfway through, Word crashed. I had saved the document, but when I went to reopen it - I got that lovely message about it being already in use and available solely as read only. After cursing Bill Gates, the heat (I had neglected to put the A/C on because it makes special needs dog Sophie uncomfortable), and Bill Gates again, I thought, I'll try the PDF version, and use USPS to send it. When I opened it, I discovered that the Word version had some differences in format; in other words, in the word processor, there were tabs etc. that were getting in the way. At this point, I figured, I'll get out my old Smith Corona typewriter for the top of the form, and I'll cut and paste the remainder from Word Perfect.

I can't remember the last time I used the typewriter, but I had been thinking about it fondly, as I reviewed my old writing recently. It was coated with dust, as well as Rudy's and Edna's hair (and probably Howie's and Penny's too - my beloved late dogs) [Sophie is hairless]. It still worked, but the ribbon and correction tape didn't, and I couldn't find a spare. In those cash poor days, I doubt I stocked up they way I do now, with printer cartridges and other office supplies. So I snapped the case shut. Oh well.

I proceeded to cut and paste the entire report, listening to Five for Fighting compete with my box fan. Glue stick in hand, I remembered how many times, pre-computer, I used my exacto knife and cutting mat to make magical layouts, how crude was the procedure, but how much tangible pleasure those simple tasks generated. Mind wandering, I mentally skipped to the next item on my list, which was locating Anne's address in time to get a card in the mail so she can receive it on her birthday on Monday.

I met Anne on the first day of kindergarten. I am the baby of the family, and at the time my oldest brother was 17. He drove me to school that day; I ran up the steps and into the school without looking back; I couldn't wait to go to school, like the big kids. Anne is also the baby of her family, but she spent that first day, and much of the next few weeks, sitting on the teacher's lap, crying.

We became fast friends, Anne and I, despite our differences. For the remainder of our young years, we were best friends. I remember riding our bicycles to Skin's, the general store, and sitting there on the porch, eating ice cream and candy and pepperoni. I remember long, carefree summers spent swimming and playing with our dogs, swinging on the swingsets at the town park, and setting up tables at the end of the driveway, where we sold our mothers' old costume jewelry and made $7 each. We talked on the phone and wrote many letters to each other, even though we spent nearly every day together.

At the end of 8th grade, Anne and her family moved about 300 miles away. We stayed in touch, writing letters, with occasional phone calls and more infrequently, visiting. The differences between us remain; I pursued higher education, she chose not to. I married young; she waited. I have no children; she has two girls. But our views and values remain similar, and our friendship continues, strong and unwavering through 36 years. The shared experience of trips to Skin's, our beloved and beautiful small hometown, reverence for our families, and hating gym class in school will bind us forever. Interestingly, we both are involved in education; she works at the school that her daughters attend, and I teach and write on the subject. Perhaps, even for someone like me who intended to pursue a field that was not female-dominated, the societal pull of so-called "women's work" cannot be denied. Or perhaps school is just so comfortable.

Due to my interest in history and genealogy, I have copies of old letters, between my grandmother and her sister; between a distant relative whom I did not know and some of her friends and relatives; and between another distant relative and her future husband. People with little formal education wrote beautifully, regularly, poetically. Several years ago, when email was fairly new, I remember reading somewhere that it was resurrecting the lost art of letter writing. That's so wonderful.

Sadly, Anne does not have a home computer, or use email. So our correspondence follows the predictable pattern I have observed in my grandmother's and great aunt's letters: Christmas, birthdays, other occasions, and thank you notes. A yearly chronicle of milestones. Last year, when she turned 40, I was all set to attend her surprise party, but my body refused to cooperate. My schedule was hectic, and I came down with bronchitis, nearly pneumonia, and was lectured to stay home, or else, by the doctor. I had a low-key celebration for my 40th, which turned out to be a wise plan, since it arrived exactly one week after 9/11, and no one, including me, felt like celebrating anything. In her letter at that time, she told me about her new house, and sent me her soon-to-be address.

I didn't hear from her at Christmas...this never happens, and so I have been a bit worried ever since. I neglected to enter her new address in my database. I calm my worries by thinking that in her move, she probably misplaced my address, also. An internet search turns up only her old address and phone number. So sending a card meant searching through a box of old papers for last year's birthday card, a task I detest. I'm happy to report that I just checked that item off my new to do list...good thing I am a pack rat! Happy 41st Birthday, Annie!