New beginnings

2006-12-15T11:28:00.000-08:00

MOVING ON

It's been fascinating for me to experience the active desire to write, to post and to explore the genre of blogging. I find I have much to say, a lot to learn and a real thirst to continue to push my own envelope. That being said, I have discovered that there are greener pastures to support my fledgling venture elsewhere, with technology that doesn't seem so dense and impenetrable. I have a feeling I will be figuring it out as I go, continually improving the look and options. Please join me there.

As of right this minute, I am moving this relatively new blog to a new location HERE.

Be well and come on by!

2006-12-11T13:26:00.000-08:00

Birthday Blog

To hold the same views at 40 as we held at 20 is to have been stupefied for a score of years, and take rank, not as a prophet, but as an unteachable brat, well birched and none the wiser.

-Robert Louis Stevenson

Monday morning FIRST THING her time, my dear friend NF called from Vegas to wish me a happy birthday. This lovely lady and I have been friends since, well, for over 25 years. We survived high school together ( 7th grade roller-skating party!!) , overcame some adolescent angst, and served as ladies in waiting for each other; even though life has put us in vastly different places, we remain vital support staff to the other. It was so lovely to hear her voice, particularly as it's been a hard enough year that she has the right to be more than a little discombobulated.

I have had many amazing friends over the years and although some have gone on different paths and the friendships ended, I have been affected by all of them. I had a friend for many years; we introduced the other to such diverse music, books, travel, ideologies that we evolved under the care of the other. I look back at that friendship and although I still mourn its necessary passing, I am grateful for all that it was, positive and negative.

At 40, I have attained a place in my own life where I know what serves me, what I need to sustain my spirit and psyche, and what I do not. I used to think that friendships persist - particularly the intense and long-term ones - but I have come to realize that although we may travel the same road as beloved companions for a time, there are no guarantees. We all change and grow or we stultify and get stuck. I am not the same person I was when I lived with my parents at 20 - thank GOD! - I am a more congruent, self-aware and happier soul. How many times do we need to be hit over the head with the same two by four to learn the lessons? Pitfalls and missteps have helped shape me and I am a much more attentive student to the lessons around me!

I feel as though I am well-equipped by lessons learned. I have tremendous friends both near and far who challenge and support me, who respect me, share chocolate martinis with me and make me laugh.

I spent my day with a true friend and kindred spirit. She spoiled me, gave me hysterical books and chocolate and took me out to lunch. Later, my kids gave me cards, and my husband took me to one of our favorite restaurants where we all chatted about ritual and how important it is to acknowledge significant moments to better understand ourselves. Then they threw cake at me. Forty feels great.

2006-12-07T14:25:00.000-08:00

More about ME

It's an interesting proposal, to examine your life and list things you think are interesting. Narcissism is us, eh? Well, when I listed these things (in my head, while riding a yellow bus on the way to a field trip), I found myself giggling. To myself. About myself. Do I need to be medicated or am I already?

11. I am pretty good at accents and used to teach my freshmen last year in a smorgasbord of voices including Scots (my personal favorite), plummy British and French Canadian. I have held a London accent for an entire day once and will soon attempt it with a Scottish one. May read Outlander again, first.

12. Used to be a mental case for the Beatles and, while I was in 8th grade, had to hear at least one song a day or the world would have ended. Did it end? Clearly I heard enough Beatles' songs.

13. I have held onto a box of baby clothes (in the basement) for 8 years as birth control.

14. I was a newscaster in University (Canadian for College) for the radio station and once laughed hysterically for an entire minute on air while I was supposed to be reading about the Cold War. I had to pinch myself to stop laughing.

15. I think that puns are laudable examples of linguistic and intellectual dexterity. Especially if they make me wince.

16. I have entire Monty Python routines memorized and have had for over 20 years. Surely there is better use for this valuable harddrive space; how do I download it???

17. My family celebrates Chanukah but also Sinterklaas, a Dutch holiday (my mom's from Amsterdam); every present my family gives must have a poem that goes with it! I have 23 poems to write before our gift orgy on the 16th.

18. At some point, I think I will go for my Ph.D. in education.

19. I had both my babies ( they are now 11 1/2 and 9) at home.

20. Shakespeare in Love makes me cry every time I watch it.

2006-12-05T11:49:00.000-08:00

100 Things About ME

Inspired by Mrs. Chili , I am going to attempt to list 100 things about me in no obvious order of relevance, except number 1.

My darling husband of nearly 13 years cracks me up every single day.
My two amazing daughters are die-hard fans of Calvin & Hobbes, Monty Python and the Far Side because of my husband and me.
I am going to be 40 on Monday and I am thrilled. More on this later!
I am 4 minutes older than my sister.
If I sneeze enough times in a row, I lose my voice entirely.
I love to travel, have been to England and bits of Europe 5 times, but haven't been off this continent in 16 years.
My friendships with a variety of extraordinary, funny and inspiring women sustain me and help me remember who I am.
Since leaving a large Canadian city in '92, I have lived in urbanly in Washington State and Arizona and now live more happily than I lthought possible out in the New England countryside.
I love being an English teacher.
I think Buffy the Vampire Slayer is utterly brilliant and eminently teachable. DH and I bought the entire run of the series for our twelfth anniversary.

2006-11-29T11:24:00.000-08:00

Getting it Done

Mrs. Chili came over this foggy and grey afternoon to help me/make me take care of the travesty that was once my desk and bookshelf, and that now is again. I had avoided it for so long that I no longer saw the precarious piles of random books, the inbox bursting with files full of unrelated and mostly recyclable items and the three boxes brimming full of miscellaneous I've-had-it-forever-and-I-can't possible-part-with-it CRAP. Guess what? I parted with so much today and although I'm not entirely finished - I've got a hot file and some odds and ends that need homes - my wonderful friend facilitated me moving out of rut of selective blindness and inertia. She attacked piles and made me decide, then and there, whether I was dumping, filing or recycling. She was ruthless and bossy and I needed just that!

I have walked into my office, sat at the computer and aggressively ignored all the mess and chaos around me for so long; I didn't realize how much energy I was expending pretending the mess wasn't there. I breathe easy as I look around. Sometime soon I am going to help her with a project she's been avoiding - don't we all have those? - and I am looking forward to it. What are friends for anyway?

2006-11-28T05:32:00.000-08:00

IDENTITY ISSUES

This past Friday I received a fat envelope from the citizenship-processing centre (notice the Canadian spelling?) in Nova Scotia. As I had been told that my wait for my daughters' citizenship cards could take up to a year, I was thrilled to get them after only 4 months.

My kids were born in the US so they are American but are entitled to Canadian citizenship because DH and I are Canadian. After weeks of document wrangling, I put together the application packets; I gathered birth certificates, our marriage certificate and carefully labeled photos of the girls (mug shots: NO SMILING!!) and sent them off. I should mention the fairly embarrassing impetus for the application: I recently entered Canada with absolutely no identification for the children. When I pulled up to the window, I engaged in the standard series of questions. No, I didn't have any drugs or alcohol. No, I didn't have a GUN! Yes, I have my passport. And then, a difficult question: Um, nooooo, I don't have any identification for my daughters...

"Are you certain, Madame, that you have nothing to show that these are your daughters?" asked the exceedingly polite immigration officer.

Chagrined and flabbergasted, I simply shook my head. I offered to call my genealogist father and have their birth certificates faxed to them within minutes, but he politely declined. I had had my daughters' birth certificates in my car but had cleaned them out in some frenzy months before. The nice official did let us in that day, with strict instructions to never show up without proper ID again. As I drove off squirming, my eldest said, “I can’t believe you didn’t have ID for us!!!"

That folks, was what I call a moron manoevre.

So back to the envelope: the thing was galvanized with fibre tape - impenetrable! and required me to hack it open from the front with a pair of scissors. Inside I found official documents and TA DA... the identity cards that proclaim, finally, my kids' dual identities. But then I notice that they bollixed it up!! They put the WRONG face on the wrong card!! These cards were as useful as tits on the proverbial bull. Did the officials fail to notice the careful labeling on the backs of the photos? Perhaps they decided they didn’t agree with the way I named my daughters - perhaps my matching of names and faces offended their aesthetic sense and they corrected the problem? I am an identical twin, so I am used to having my face confused for my sister’s. These kids, however, do not look that much alike; people have actually inquired whether they have the same father!

The cards are now on their way back to the nearest consulate, where they will be reprocessed, free of charge. Shit happens, the nice consular lady told me in oh-so-polite other words, but we would be happy to take care of that for you. Have a nice day, eh?

2006-11-22T18:26:00.000-08:00

Covering Naked Walls

Do you have naked walls? Do they bother you? I have been heartily sick of looking at my vast expanses of paint (albeit colors I chose) where lovely things should be. I have dithered these three years since I moved into this house and although we do have some lovely things adorning the plaster, there are lot of spaces just crying out for, well, SOMETHING. Over the last few years, my husband and I have planted hundreds of perennials, annuals, trees, etc., and I have been taking photos. Looking through thse shots, I realized I had grown my very own gallery.

Last year I grew my very first sunflower and after it was initially amputated by dining deer, it grew back into THIS!

This past summer I though I planted giant zinnias (packaging error) but instead got amazing giant red sunflowers. Aren't they glorious? I have now framed each of these photos to cover some of the nakedness and to console myself over the coming bleak winter. Honestly, I don't know what has taken me so long - these shots make me stupid happy and elevate my walls from bored blah to oases of color.

2006-11-16T14:46:00.000-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving, eh?

This year my brother and sister in law and their children are coming from Montreal, as are my dear friend NatureDoc and her husband and daughter. Except for NatureDoc's hubby, we're all Canadian!

Canadians, as a rule, do not make as big a hooha about Thanksgiving. Yeah, we get turkey and do whole food orgy (earlier in the fall), but it's not the fervent, dare I say, mania that it is here. And you know what? Since moving here. I have become a dedicated convert to the whole meshegaas (me‧shu‧gaas [mish-uh-gahs] -noun Slang: foolishness; insanity; senselessness. Origin: Yiddish) that is Thanksgiving. I think it's required, possibly in the fine print of American citizenship.

When I first moved to this country, ignorant Canadian yahoo that I was, I was initiated into the American Thanksgiving continuum by dear friends, who taught me well. For instance I learned decorations for Turkey Day will go up right after Halloween, extending the decorative shelf-life of the pumpkin by several weeks. I learned that children in elementary schools all over the country will do artistic murder unto vast quantities of red, yellow and brown construction paper in order to create traced-hand turkeys and pilgrims and Indian chiefs. I also learnd that the unsavory origins of the union of white man and noble Indian isn't mentioned, but glossed over with PIE. I came, I saw, I conquered, let's eat!!

Nevertheless, I know that at the very least I must have family (with the most points going to the person traveling the farthest) and dear friends that I dig hanging out with and relish cooking FOR. I learned I must have a great big (organic) turkey and enough side dishes to stupefy my assembled small horde. So, there will be lots of wine, carbonated apple cider for the kids, absolutely no football, and soft places to recline from the turkey-induced stupor.

So on to my planned menu: I am making a roasted carrot/onion/potato thing that will be comprised of yellow, red and purple carrots from my (organic) garden, pumpkin pie and sweet potato pie, both also made from the harvest from my very own organic dirtpatch. Finally, I am making a triple batch of my mother's fabulous rice and raisin stuffing. I didn't grow the rice, although it occurs to me that with the inordinate amount of rain we had this past summer, I could have!!

One thing I won’t be snarky about is the message of thanks my family and I all feel toward the universe. We are unbelievably blessed and that, despite the huge hooha, is the bottom line.

Have a wonderful thanksgiving!!

2006-11-14T15:46:00.000-08:00

Blue Twin

A friend recently asked me to clarify the name of my blog. What the heck is a blue twin? (Whisper) Was I somehow damaged because of a lack of oxygen??

No, nothing like THAT.

Essentially, I was and am just that- the blue twin. One of a set of carefully and chromatically coordinated identical beings, I was given a color of my very own so other people would know which one I was. Family-type people. People like my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, cousins. Seriously. Color-coding us made it easy for people and that's fine - some people hear "identical twin" and they assume that determining which name goes which face is enormously difficult. Ok, which it was when we were small. Honestly, there are photos of us where I have NO CLUE which one I am. I know I am one of those babies, but there aren't enough distinguishing features to be certain of my identity. It's a bizarre feeling, let me tell you. However, as we got older and ditched our red and blue everythings, people got annoyed when we weren't in our shorthand hues. "Which one are you?" is a question I would hear way too flippin' often. Do the work, people!! Figure it out!!

I loved all things blue when I was younger, rejected it strenuously when I wanted to establish my own, non-twin identity, and came back to it as an adult. I now drive a blue (hybrid) car, type in my blue study and drink tea out of my favorite blue mug. It started out as an imposed visual aid, but I am now blue by choice. And Red? She's still red. I guess it stuck.

As a twin, I beg of you to consider the following should you ever have your own set:

Do NOT name them things that rhyme, i.e. Shauna and Donna or Donald and Ronald. Come on, it's cruel!
If you must name them the same first initial, make the names sufficiently different, i.e. Stephanie and Samaire, Sigmund and Steve.
Color code 'em! I know twins who were brown and green, purple and yellow. It makes it easier on a lot of people. Just make people figure out how to tell their faces apart!
NEVER give them anything to share. Insta broken bits.
Remember they are individuals. In possibly identical bodies.

Anyone have a twin story to share?

2006-11-12T11:45:00.000-08:00

Lingering Cough

The scene: outwardly robust-looking person goes about daily business, living life. She speaks in a perhaps slightly rough voice but one outburst outs her; she has a barking, to beat the band, from the nether regions of hell, phlegmy cough that sounds like bits of lung tissue are breaking off.

Why won't it go away?

Does it love me so much that it cannot bear to parted from me? I have been getting looks of alarm from many people around me who cannot reconcile my somewhat healthy appearance with this NOISE coming from me. It's going on 2 weeks now and I am tired of sounding like a bull walrus. Fortunately, I am the only one in my household to be thus afflicted. I send my sincere wishes upward that this remains the case.

I hope all of you are enjoying a healthy autumn.

2006-11-07T16:33:00.000-08:00

VOTING!

Yesterday, I participated in my newly American civic duty: I cast a ballot. In a scene reminscent of schoolhouse rock, I received my ballot and went into a little booth to do my voting thing. I didn't get to pull any levers, but I enjoyed filling in those little black ovals tremendously.

I became an American citizen over a year ago so I COULD bloody vote. I have been living here in "the States" for 12 years and have been paying taxes for as long, without the benefit of having ANY say in politics, from school board issues to local and federal government. That is as it should be; I don't think I should have been able to vote without citizenship. But now I can and am proud to be able to have played my part is yesterday's momentous rout. It's a brand new day!

2006-11-02T17:21:00.000-08:00

Dancing with my Girls

Monty Python has a Broadway show currently running full-tilt - yah, you know the one- full of infectious, outrageous songs. Anyway, my girls and I have the darn music on a constant loop in our heads at the moment; ONE word and we're off on a dancing and singing whirlwind. This evening, as I put dinner together, I had the media player on my PC blasting the whole thing; my daughters and I yelled the lyrics, hammed it up big time and danced until we huffed. Then we held onto each other and grinned like fools. Husband came home during the finale, by which time we were gleefully staggering around the kitchen. I'm still grinning.

2006-10-31T11:45:00.000-08:00

What is a "dog person?"

Well, I'm one.

I adore my dog in all his barky, playful fabulousness.

I know and respect, however, that there are many among us who disdain the doggy world and justifiably avoid it. These non-dog people (NDP) are the ones who stand stiffly while pooch enthusiastically sniffs their NDP privates, who smile even stiffer when pooch goes to lick their hands, and who sigh gratefully when pooch moves on to smell someone else's crotch. My own father, although fond of my dog, is one of those people; he often dramatically sighs and laments, "Pooch, what do you want from me, Pooch?” when my lovely doggie comes near him. Even if Pooch does nothing more than sit at his feet or rest his head of my father's lap. I try to be courteous to NDPs when they visit; I will put him in a stay until Pooch calms down or I will crate him when his canine exuberance is more than they can bear. But I am unashamedly a DP.

I came from a decidedly non-DP family, and since I had a terrifying experience of having a small dog jump through a WINDOW to get at my 8 year-old self, I never thought I would ever love dogs. When I was pregnant with my first daughter, my love and I brought home Boomer, an American Eskimo dog who had been abandoned and then, neglected. She gave me my first dog-owning experience and since she knew the ropes, she broke me into walking and feeding and grooming rituals gently. I got over my fear. She was in the room when daughter number one was born; she was family. When she left us (completely deaf and almost blind) 3 Octobers ago, we were bereft and, after searching for weeks, sadly gave up. After a few months, we noticed a distinctly dog-shaped hole in our home and soon after, got Pooch. My parents and in-laws have grown to care for Pooch and, even if he hasn’t precisely help them transcend NPD land, they enjoy him.

I digress. May I present a photo of Sephira, our puppy-to-be, who will arrive from Israel sometime before the end of November to join our family. We are all stupid excited. She is to be the mate of Pooch and we are seriously thinking about thinking about breeding them. For now, she is going to be a playmate of Pooch and he will help her meld into the family by reinforcing our rules while we train her. It's going to be mayhem, but it's also going to marvelous. We have 6 acres for them to romp on and many local DPs around to help socialize her. I can’t wait.

I know there is a LOT I don’t know – what having two dogs will be like, never mind a breeding pair! I any of you have advice, I would gladly hear it. I am counting down the days...

2006-10-17T14:49:00.000-07:00

ODE to a Dishwasher that PERFORMS

Seem mundane?

Isn't.

I have a new dishwasher and it works!!

Properly.

It seemed no matter how much we rinsed off the dishes in our old machine, cups and plates would come out festooned with bits of grit sandblasted on by the drying cycle. It was a familiar scene: I'd stand there swearing as I cleaned out the machine; none of the glasses or mugs would be free of bits of whatever had been on the plates. I would have to re-wash nearly everything. Grumpily. When she visited from Canada, my mother would often take all my glasses out of my cabinets and wash them for me. I had almost stopped noticing how nasty they were. Seriously yucksome.

WTF??

Most lower-end dishwashers, explained the nice man at Best Buy, use the same water to do both the initial and final rinse, thereby spewing bits all over the contents of the dishwasher. Most machines, he went on, have filters that are either automatically emptied, or that need some human intervention. Our old one had neither.

After plenty o' research and with a firm resolve, my darling husband and I purchased an LG (Life's Good) wonder contraption that does what the bloody things are supposed to!! This lovely device has a whizbang food grinder, and an automatic filter that removes the dinner detritus off of my plates FOR me. All I have to do is push one of the cycle buttons and off it goes.

Makes me grin like an idiot. And swear a LOT less.

Just thought I would share.

2006-10-03T12:13:00.000-07:00

GLORIOUS

Today is a glorious reminder of how beautiful life is, how precious and how tenuous. The here and now of autumnal magic is what we must cherish, not take for granted, and photograph NOW dammit, before it’s gone. My daughters are young, in stages of youth that dh and I find entrancing, captivating and monumentally entertaining. However, we know it won't last - they will leave, well, eventually. Therefore, I feel the need to comment on how this season is a great reminder to look up and see the beauty around us. Our world has far too much ugly in it - the news reports a constant and steady supply - but there is such solace in the splendor that surrounds us. Take a breather, look at the leaves and maybe, just maybe, come away with an easier spirit.

2006-09-28T07:46:00.000-07:00

Fleas and Mice

Monday was a test of some kind.

Upon waking at 6 to roust elder daughter out of bed, I found several tiny, itchy bites in a line on my abdomen. With a sinking feeling, I identified the red bumps as fleabites. I wish I could say I hadn't experienced this plague before but I well know the telltale signs. That learning curve occurred 15 years ago in my first apartment on the West Coast where the previous tenants had had cats and lots and lots of fleas. The place was literally hopping with them. Much fun was not had, but I eventually got rid of them.

I hoped I would never again have to deal with the little blood-sucking monsters.

I am in love with my dog. I mean, I frequently find myself using that high pitched idiot voice that I have in the past despised in others, mistakenly assuming the individual in question was clearly witless: being that ridiculous around his or her dog?? But I do it; I coo at him and play with him and cuddle him and this is a 50 pound pooch with long claws.

Now Pooch has fleas and, unfortunately, shared them with his family. This means war of the most dedicated kind because I won't use those toxic bombs - they are more toxic to the people than they are to the increasingly chemical-resistant fleas. So, this means treating Pooch with strong-smelling herbal flea killing stuff, washing EVERYTHING that he may have come in contact with in the last 2 weeks, vacuuming every day and making sure there is nothing on the floor anywhere. Then I must repeat all previous steps often for the foreseeable future: flea eggs can last a long time. I must bag everything and quarantine things for weeks. Then, only when I have seen no signs of fleas for three weeks can I relax. Truly maddening, eh?

As I thought about all I would have to do when I got home, I got ready to take my fabulous four-month-old hybrid car into Local Dealership to find out why the engine light kept coming on. I figured some sensor was loose and that it would be a minor issue. So it was to my complete and utter shock when Mr. Mechanic came to get me from the waiting room where I had been perusing issues of Good Housekeeping and told me that a MOUSE had been nesting in my car and that it would take at least five hours of exploration (at 90 bucks an hour) before they would even know what damage the little miscreant had caused. I was incredulous. They had to be kidding, right? This was clearly an elaborate joke.

Nope on all counts. Although infrequent, it happens often enough, particularly at this Fall kind of time of year when the little buggers go looking for some shelter. It was with sheer force of will that I resisted flinging myself to the floor and howling "It's not fair!!" As if, I have said to my children, THAT will do any good! So, if you can, park your cars inside during this season. And watch out for mice. And fleas.

I have to go vacuum.

2006-09-25T18:53:00.000-07:00

The New Year

5767 to be exact. This year, as in others, my family of four and I (Darling Husband (DH) and our two glorious daughters, 11.5 and 9) gathered to consider the year we have had and what we want to let go of or get over in the year to come. These symbolic castoffs can be guilt or remorse over thoughtless or hurtful words or deeds, unwanted psychological baggage, or some personal issues we are working on. We inscribe our thoughts on small bits of paper and then we burn them. Sometimes, we take a moment to say something about what we are discarding, but it is not a requirement.

My eldest daughter had something to say as she cast one of her burdens away.

"No more taking my anger and frustration out on people who don't deserve them," she said. "I want to learn to control my anger."

Then our youngest picked up one of her papers and said, "I have to be much more careful with sister's things - no more breaking her stuff."

What followed was one of those moments of absolute certainty, of knowing that our children possessed tools of self-awareness they actually used. We just about split open with pride.

Rosh Hashanah is about taking stock, figuring out what is working, what is not and what we need to do to correct any problems we are carrying around needlessly. I find it a wonderful time of reflection on what I am grateful for and what I need to do to reach my personal goals. It is invigorating, exhausting and although the process can be painful, it is ultimately cleansing.

Happy New Year

2006-09-24T11:49:00.000-07:00

It's about bloody time. After longer than I care to admit hiding on my couch reading books I have practically memorized or watching old episodes of Buffy, I have ventured out and found employment in my chosen field. I am now a bona fide employed English Teacher and I am so excited but really clear that I have a number of significant surpises in store for me; I don't really know what to expect from community college students so I am keeping an open mind, an easy spirit and my sense of humor, all of which I expect to be vital tools in the classroom tomorrow. I am so fortunate to have my good friend Mrs. Chili, also a grad of State U in Ed, teaching the same thing as I will be, so we can venture forth together. It is a brave new world and cliches aside, I am ready. Bring it on!