Friday, September 30, 2005
The Importance of Appropriate Birthday Party Themes
A Poem for my Father
I actually posted this last week - for about five minutes - but then deleted it because I wasn't sure I wanted to put it in my blog. It's a poem, and poems are personal. I mentioned to my children a couple months ago that after moving last year I had only recently located my notebook of poetry. I had written poems for each of them many years ago and when I found my notebook, I emailed their poems to them. Both of them had the same reaction: "I didn't know you wrote poetry!" The operative word is "wrote". Past tense. All of my poems are at least 10 years old. My sister, Joan, posted a poem in her blog, and that made me feel that if she could post hers, then I could post mine. She gave me the courage. Her poem is about our father. The one I'm sharing here is about him, too. After going through every poem in my poetry notebook (which isn't a tremendous undertaking since there are only eleven of them), I didn't see a single one that I'm completely comfortable in sharing. But the others are all either too depressing, too personal, or just plain too strange to post. However, I'll share the one about my father, Charles. It's a stream of consciousness, freeform poem. I wrote it almost thirteen years ago.
To Daddy
Are you up there, Daddy?
Sitting up in heaven
Watching us here on earth?
Laughing at us, wondering about us,
Or crying?
Life is such a crazy hodgepodge
Happiness - sadness - exhilaration - depression
All put together
Are you there? Seeing . . . and caring?
I miss you
I miss telling you about my victories and defeats
You always were interested
And wanted to know more.
Where are you?
I don't understand death
I remember dreaming about you several years ago
In my dream, we were at the Flea Market
I heard your voice, your laugh
I saw your face - you were alive
I want that dream again
Mother told me that when she was nine years old
And her father died
She prayed that she would dream of him
Because she knew then, and only then, she could see him.
I'm so much older than nine now
Yet I still want to dream of you
I want to experience again the peace of your unconditional love.
I remember one day I visited you - I was a parent myself then
I had the flu, and you tucked a blanket around me
Set me in front of the fire and cared for me
One brief evening so many years ago
And yet I remember - with longing.
Maybe you were the only person who was completely on my side
No judgments. No expectations. Just acceptace - and love.
When I was a little girl
You were the one I wanted to comfort me when I was hurt or sad
I was special. I was Cabbie.
You were the one who told us stories
Of growing up with four brothers
Your adventures skinny-dipping in the Yellow River
Your near-miss in the lightning storm with Uncle James.
We children would crowd around you
In your little office behind the house
"Tell us more," we'd plead,
And you'd oblige.
One Friday in 1986, you were visiting us
And we were at the Grand ol' Opry laughing together
The next Friday we were gathered around your grave.
Life changes forever too quickly
No time for a final "I love you"
Or a smile, or a good-bye.
I want to drive up in your driveway again
And see you waiting for me
"There's my Cabbie," you'd say
And I would be a little girl once more
Safe, protected . . . in the arms of fatherly love.
(written in February 1993)
Patricia Polacco
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Being Prepared
During the Rita evacuation, many coastal residents headed inland without food, water or extra gas, thinking they could buy what they needed on the road. They were wrong. Everyone should have a "grab-and-go" backpack with water bottles, medicines, cash or traveler's checks, and other necessities, along with a three-day supply of food.
Maps, planned-in-advance escape routes and destinations, and an extra 5 gallons of gas can also come in handy. Those in hurricane, tornado and earthquake zones have the most obvious need, but the next terrorist attack could be anywhere.
Now that is something to think about. Immediately after the 9/11 attacks, I recall reading about how everyone should have a gas mask. I immediately got on eBay and bought myself a gas mask. I THINK I know where it is. It makes sense at the time, although it is sad to think of having to have such things on hand. I already have a backpack and everything except for the 3-day supply of food - but a box of granola bars and dried fruit would take care of that. I'm not likely to be directly affected by a hurricane, but tornados and earthquakes are a definite threat around here. And of course there are no safe areas in regard to terrorism.
I recall about 10 or 12 years ago - maybe more - there was a big hoopla in the press about the New Madrid seismic zone and how someone had predicted that THE BIG ONE would occur that year. We had drills with the kids at school, and everyone was just waiting for the big earthquake to happen. It didn't. It still hasn't. I did a websearch for "emergency preparedness", and the results were interesting. There are entire businesses and websites devoted solely to selling provisions for emergencies.
Home Girl
This could lead to a discussion of the value of moving. It's incredible how much JUNK and unnecessary "things" accumulate over time. Moving is great in forcing a person to get rid of excess. I keep waiting for the IRS to audit my tax return because of all my contributions to Goodwill over the past eight years.
I'll look at more houses this weekend, and I'll keep it all updated here.
Click 'n Bank
Not much point in this post - except to express how great it is to be sitting here at the end of September and able to spend about 10 minutes on the computer -- and all the bills are paid and done. YEA!!!
Miz Berlin Walks
I was talking with a fifth grade teacher today, and she was working on an author study of Jane Yolen. She mentioned a book by Yolen that I hadn't read before - Miz Berlin Walks. She loaned me her copy, and I read it immediately. Only took a few minutes since it's a children's picture book. Different books produce different reactions. This book made me want to get outside and walk for an hour or two.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
The Biggest Loser
Monday, September 26, 2005
A political post - Cindy Sheehan
Listening to George Strait
A friend of mine told me that George Strait's new song, She Let Herself Go sounded like it was about me. She wouldn't tell me anything else about it, and so I bought the CD (George Strait, Somewhere Down In Texas) and listened to the song. It put me in a completely happy mood. Here are the lyrics:
He wondered how she'd take it when he said goodbye.
Thought she might do some cryin': lose some sleep at night.
But he had no idea, when he hit the road,
That without him in her life, she'd let herself go.
Let herself go on a singles cruise,
To Vegas once, then to Honolulu.
Let herself go to New York City:
A week at the Spa; came back knocked-out pretty.
When he said he didn't love her no more,
She let herself go.
She poured her heart an' soul into their three-bedroom ranch.
Spent her days raisin' babies, ironin' his pants.
Came home one day from the grocery store and found his note,
And without him there to stop her, she let herself go.
Let herself go on her first blind-date:
Had the time of her life with some friends at the lake.
Let herself go, buy a brand new car,
Drove down to the beach he always said was too far.
Sand sure felt good between her toes:
She let herself go on a singles cruise,
To Vegas once, then to Honolulu.
Let herself go to New York City:
A week at the Spa; came back knocked-out pretty.
When he said he didn't love her no more,
She let herself go.
To Vegas once: Honolulu, New York City.
Came back knocked-out pretty.
Another great song on that CD is By The Light of a Burning Bridge. Here are those lyrics:
Oh, I've been stumblin' through the darkness,
Tryin' to feel the ground beneath my feet.
Afraid of movin' much in any direction:
Stuck where the past and the future meet.
But I fin'lly got my first good look:
A little fire was all it took.
An' as the flames grew brighter,
I saw everything that I'd missed.
Once you get your courage up,
You light a match an' your eyes adjust:
It's amazing what a man can see,
By the light of a burnin' bridge.
An' there were things I saw that I'm not proud of.
Things that I'd do diff'rent now from then.
But when I really make myself get honest,
It's over and I can't go back again.
'Cause I fin'lly got my first good look:
A little fire was all it took.
An' as the flames grew brighter,
I saw everything that I'd missed.
Once you get your courage up,
You light a match an' your eyes adjust:
It's amazing what a man can see,
By the light of a burnin' bridge.
It sure is hard to let go and to leave the past behind,
But there ain't no other way that you can find some peace of mind.
When I fin'lly got my first good look:
A little fire was all it took.
An' as the flames grew brighter,
I saw everything that I'd missed.
Once you get your courage up,
You light a match an' your eyes adjust:
It's amazing what a man can see,
By the light of a burnin' bridge.
It's amazing what a man can see,
By the light of a burnin' bridge.
And so that's my contribution to the sharing of music for the day. Great songs, aren't they?
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Your Best Life Now
Recently for my birthday I received an audio CD of Joel Osteen's book Your Best Life Now. It consists of five CDs. On the trip to Georgia on Friday, I started listening to the first CD when I reached the far side of Monteagle and could no longer pick up Nashville radio stations. When I got to my mother's, the second CD had just started. So it will take a L-O-N-G time to listen to all of them. The CDs are good, and I enjoyed listening to them although Joel's voice is very quiet and controlled - too calming, and it was difficult at times to keep my attention on the CD. My mind kept going off on tangents. One tangent: He pronounces the word similar "sim-U-lar" - and it is uncanny how often that word is in the book! My tangent continued. . . maybe since Osteen's church is in Texas -- and George W. Bush is from Texas and has gotten a lot of flack for pronouncing nuclear "nu-cu-lar" -- that maybe that kind of pronunciation is a part of being a Texan. I told Mother about the CD set, and asked if she knew of Joel Osteen, and of course she knew a lot about him and liked him. She mentioned that he preaches a type of "prosperity" gospel. As I listened to the CD on the way home, I thought about what she had said. He's nothing like some of the preachers on TV who seem to flaunt their wealth with extravagant clothes and jewelry and flashy sets for their TV shows. THEIR prosperity gospels have mostly to do with their own prosperity. Osteen, however, seems down to earth, and his message is Biblically-based. I'll write more about his book as I listen to more of it. The part that made an impression me during my drive home today was the power of words - the words we say to others and also the words we say to ourselves. He talked about how important it is for parents to speak supportive and loving words to their children. Equally important, though, is speaking supportive and loving words to ourselves. We ARE usually our own worst critics, and that's what I thought about as I sped along I-24 towards Nashville.
Home-made Yogurt
Having it all together
Saturday, September 24, 2005
91 days till Christmas
Larisa and Joey tease me about my fixation on numbers. I'm always telling them things like "Two weeks from today I'll be in Alaska," or "Your birthday is only four months from today," etc. I like to think in terms of how many days, months, or years away certain events are or were. And in thinking of the future, it gives me a goal range. For example, when I noticed tomorrow's date, I immediately thought of 3 months till Christmas -- and then I thought of what goals I'd like to make for those three months. So that's where my thoughts are now -- what do I want to accomplish in the next three months.
First is my residence. I like where I live, but I don't really love it. I bought a townhouse after my divorce last year. I thought that I didn't want the bother and expense of maintaining a yard and I didn't want anything big. I miss having a separate house -- and since there are two units in my building, I feel that one side of my house is missing -- no windows on the side that's connected to the other unit. To me, it feels like something is missing. Although I have a screened-in back porch, it faces west, and it isn't comfortable to sit out there. In the evenings when I'd like to sit outside, the sun is glaring in my eyes and it's hot. The only view is the backs of other townhouses, and there's a street that ends right at my porch. The porch is high enough that the fence doesn't offer any privacy when I'm on the porch. Not very relaxing. So, one of my goals - not for the next 91 days, but for sometime in the next year or two - is to start looking for somewhere else to live. I'm okay where I am, but it's not home to me. Seeing my cousin Jane's house today made me realize the kind of place I want to live -- something country, a little rustic looking, with lots of room for entertaining, and lots of comfortable outdoor space. So I'm going to start looking and seeing what's available in my area.
Another goal is to get back involved with my friends. The past couple years have been rather stressful, and I haven't taken the time and effort to maintain my friendships. So that's my second goal. I'll get involved again in group activities and in church activities - not only for my social benefit but my spiritual benefit as well. It's easy to withdraw and stay inside myself. Getting out and being with other people gives me the opportunity to see beyond my own situation and issues. Another thing Joey and Larisa used to tease me by saying I only went to church for the social aspect of it. There WERE enough social benefits in terms of friendships and activities to make their accusation partly true.
That makes two rather large goals for the next three months - at least goals to get started. Other goals? I don't know at this point. I'll be thinking about it, though, and when I decide on them, I'll post them here.
French Women and Weigh Down Workshop
I've been reading lately about different diets. Actually, what I've been reading hasn't been about "diets" but about ways of life related to eating. One book, French Women Don't Get Fat fascinated me.
My niece, Brannon, who is currently traveling in France says that French women don't get fat because they all smoke nonstop. The author of the book, though, says that French women don't get fat because they don't have all the hang-ups we American women have about food. They eat whatever they want to eat, but they eat in moderation. They don't feel compelled to eat everything on their plate, and they'd rather throw away food than to eat something beyond what's needed to take care of their hunger. And essentially, the Weigh Down Workshop is based on the same idea. Food is there for our enjoyment, and even the Bible tells us that there are no foods that are off-limits. We just have to get to know our bodies and not eat until we're physically hungry -- and stop eating when that hunger is satisfied. The author goes on to write about how so much of our hunger is emotional hunger rather than physical hunger, and how we can satisfy that emotional hunger through a relationship with God instead of with Food. Whatever your religious beliefs, it makes sense to work to separate emotional hunger from physical hunger -- and only use food to feed the physical hunger.
A Visit Home
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Selecting a Name
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Book Recommendation: AIRMAIL TO THE MOON
Another feature of THE MEDIAN SIB is book recommendations. I read lots of children's literature, and I read lots of professional literature - especially on reading, for teachers. I will share some books that I feel are particularly noteworthy. Some of the best books ever written are children's books. AIRMAIL TO THE MOON by Tom Birdseye is one of my favorites. It offers humor that children and parents will appreciate, and it offers great examples of figurative language that teachers will love. I have frequently used this book for mini-lessons on figurative language with all grades.
Talking to Your Children
Saturday, September 17, 2005
An Introduction
I am blessed with my family: my daughter and her husband are the parents of my two granddaughters, who are the absolute loves of my life. My son and his wife round out my wonderful immediate family. I am blessed with such wonderful children. I will write about the rest of my family - my mother and my six siblings - at a later date.
First Post
The purpose of this blog is to write about my family, my job, my friends, and my interactions and thoughts about them all.