UK Trip - First (brief) installment

We’re home.  I would so much rather be in Scotland!  What an amazing place Scotland is.  I am sure heaven will be like Scotland and every meal will be sticky toffee pudding.  

So, you’re all waiting to hear all about our trip, and I’m anxious to tell you all about it, but it will have to come in bits.  Today is my daughter’s 30th birthday and I am making dinner for her.  It’s 4 pm, they’re coming at 6, and I’ve yet to go get what I’m cooking.  So, today’s post will be limited to ten things I learned about the United Kingdom.

1. Brits are very thrifty.  By that I do not mean cheap.  I mean they are very conscientious about not wasting stuff – water, power, food, etc.  It made me realize how wasteful we Americans are.  No wonder we are thought of so poorly.  In both England and Scotland, every outlet has an on/off switch, not just lights.  All the appliances are very energy efficient.  Toilets use very little water to flush.  In England, you had two buttons, a low water and higher water flush, depending on the need.  The showers were very water and energy efficient.  The cars are TINY and very fuel efficient.  Even the Ford Mondeo Estate Wagon we had in Scotland, big by comparison to most cars, got almost 40 MPG.  At $8 per gallon for gas, that was really important.


2. Scots are the nicest people in the world.  Truly!


3. Scotland is the most beautiful place on earth.  Even the cities are beautiful.  The western highlands, Glen Coe, Isle of Skye, the Great Glen…  if you’ve never been, you need to go before you die.  If you have been, you know what I mean.  Around every bend in the road is breathtaking scenery unlike any I’ve ever seen before.  Words cannot do Scotland justice.  Photos barely capture the beauty.


4. The Brits are very polite.  Even the road signs are polite.  At the end of a stretch of road construction, the signs say “we are sorry for any delay”.  When you leave a village, a sign says “thank you for driving safely”.  The people are just as polite as their signs.


5. The central part of Scotland is so green I can’t imagine Ireland being greener, but those who have been there say it is.  Hard to believe.


6. The roads are unbelievably narrow.  The natives drive these narrow, winding roads at breakneck speeds, and tailgate with a passion, but not in an angry, hostile way like Americans.  Their tailgating was more a result of them knowing where they want to go while being stuck behind some stupid Americans who can barely drive on the left side of street from the right side of the car.  By the end of the week, we were driving at a pretty brisk pace ourselves and the roads didn’t seem quite as narrow (they are, though).  


7. Scotland is exactly how I thought it would be – small villages with stone buildings clustered around a small town center and lots of stone farmhouses with stone fences surrounding fields of sheep – while England was much more populated and towns were closer together and not as quaint as I thought it would be.


8. I think there are more sheep in Scotland than humans.


9. In Scotland, the weather truly does change about every 15 minutes.  


10. Everything is really expensive.  With the pound worth nearly two dollars, things that seemed reasonable in price – a burger and beer for 5 GBP, for example – looked a bit different once the math was done.  But it was worth every penny!


11. The food was great.  I think British food has gotten a bad rap.  We ate really well.  

So, that’s the first little post.  We loved Scotland.  We want to go back soon.  We left our hearts there.  There is so much we didn’t get to see – the northern highlands, Angus and Dundee, the Borders, the area around Oban, and Glasgow – that we want to go back and see the rest of the country.  The resort in which we stayed was stunning.  The accommodations were fabulous – clean, spacious, beautiful.  JK Rowling lives just 5 miles away outside Aberfeldy.  

I will post photos on my photobucket sometime tomorrow.  I’ll write more about our adventures in detail beginning tomorrow.  Suffice it to say, it truly was the trip of a lifetime and we are so glad we went!  Charlie, you live in an amazing place!  And I thought we had it good here in North Idaho!  

Hail Britannia!

Departure - T-minus 73 hours - until we head for Spokane. We don't fly out until 1:15 p.m. but by 8 a.m. Saturday we will leave home. Anything forgotten, well, it will be too late. Not a list maker, I'm making them like mad. I'm so certain we'll forget something important and land in a foreign land without some vital piece of apparel or information, that I'm writing down every thought that enters my head. It's making me crazy. Some who know me would challenge that statement on the grounds I'm already crazy.

So, yesterday I stressed all day over whether or not we should buy a rail pass. It would cost us about $778. It would allow us unlimited train travel over 8 consecutive days. We would begin with our trip from Edinburgh to Burton-upon-Trent on the 20th, which means our last day of unlimited travel would be the 27th. We'll be heading to London for two days on the 27th, so all London underground and bus-hopping would not be included. Nor would the train to Gatwick. When I check for fares for the ride from Scotland to England, the only thing available is going to cost us almost $270. With a pass, it will still cost us $125. I'm so confused. While we're in England, we plan to take day trips from the resort at which we're staying to Warwick Castle, Oxford, Nottingham, Stonehenge, and who knows where else. Can we get to these places easily via train or bus? What will it cost each day without a pass? I have no clue. I can't seem to find that information either. Some people who have been to the UK tell me that it's cheap to just buy a ticket each day, no pass needed. Some say a pass will be very economical. I'm thinking a pass would be great if we were heading out from a different town each day, making our way around England, but we're going to be returning to our resort each night, and there isn't a train station nearby. I think we're going to have to walk or take cabs to the nearest public transport, and I'm not really sure how far away that is. Anyway, back to my dilemma. After much (and I'm talking hours and hours) research and testing different scenarios, I finally decided to buy tickets from Edinburgh to Birmingham, which I found for only 30 GBP each. From Birmingham it's less than 30 miles to our resort. We can take another train to Lichfield, which is only 5 miles or so from the resort, or a bus, or rent a car. We just have to decide what to do. So, that's our dilemma. Do we rent a car? Will that allow us to visit all the places we want to visit more easily than taking public transport? But then we have to deal with traffic, parking, the price of gas, and driving on the wrong side of the road with a manual transmission on the wrong side of the driver. And which will be most cost effective? We're not rich. I don't want to spend the majority of our vacation funds on transportation. I was hoping to eat once in a while. So.... any thoughts, any insights, any help.... greatly appreciated. Just make it fast... T-minus 72.5 hours.

Bloomsday Results - and some drama

It’s over.  The 30th running of Bloomsday is history.  Today is the Monday after Bloomsday, and once again, I finished the course in less than two hours – my goal for this year.  Last year I said I was going to train for this year’s run and finish closer to 90 minutes.  That was not to be.  I’m in worse shape this year than I was last year, and yet I finished in pretty much the same time.  I can’t complain about that.  I guess it also goes to show (me, you?) that I can push myself when I want to, and that I’m probably not in as bad shape as I think I am.  I ran (yes, I actually did run some of it) with my daughter and her friend.  They are 29 and 26.  I think my daughter could have finished 5 or 10 minutes ahead of me, but she wanted to have fun, and that meant sticking with her old mom. What a sweetheart!  One thing did slow us down – my daughter’s friend had to use the bathroom.  She had done so just before the race started, but here she was, just about 2 miles into the race, and she had to go again – bad.  So, we had to stop and wait for her to stand in a long line to go pee.  That added almost 4 minutes to our time.  So, official time of 1:50, actual time, about 1:46, which is comparable to last year’s time.

A big part of running Bloomsday is, of course, getting the t-shirt.  The color and design are a closely guarded secret.  Part of the fun for us slowpokes is looking to catch a glimpse of the shirt on someone who has finished well ahead of you.  That usually happens around mile 6.  Sure enough, as we hit the 6 mile marker, I spied someone who was obviously a participant in what looked to be an ugly pumpkin colored shirt.  I told the girls “the shirt is orange”.  They didn’t believe me.  Around the next corner there were three or four finishers wearing their shirts standing along the side of the road.  Yep, it was an ugly rusty orange.  Actually, kind of the color of pumpkin pie.  And the design on the front is ugly.  This is the 30th Bloomsday.  You’d think it’d be splashed all over the front of the shirt.  It’s in tiny print at the bottom of this ugly tall skinny rectangle with an abstract rendition of a lilac bush and a runner in it.  Ugliest shirt ever, in my opinion.  But I’ll be wearing it, like a badge of honor, to work today, as will most everyone who ran yesterday. It’s tradition.

Though rain was forecast, and though it was raining on the trip over from Sandpoint to Spokane, and even in the eastern part of Spokane, it did not rain during the race.  It sprinkled lightly a couple of times, but not enough to make a bit of a difference.  As it turned out, the weather was perfect for running.  As soon as we finished, we walked straight to the Olive Garden in downtown Spokane, as is our tradition.  There was no line, nothing.  We got a table right away and sat our weary bodies down.  I was not the least bit hungry, so I had soup and salad only.  The girls had big meals – stuffed chicken marsala for my daughter and Portobello ravioli for her friend.  They were stuffed.  I felt perfect.  Getting up to leave was tough though.  The muscles had stiffened and it was all I could do to get the appropriate parts to move freely.  On the way home, the girls decided we should stop at Dairy Queen for a Blizzard – another tradition.  This time I let them go in without me.  I had no desire for a Blizzard.  If I was going to run off several hundred calories, I was not going to eat them back on immediately afterward.  Both of them got about halfway through their Blizzards and regretted not having just shared one between them.  It rained like crazy on the way home.  Never did rain in downtown Spokane.  I slept like a rock last night and awoke not nearly as sore as I thought I’d be.  Next year, I do have to get in better shape before the race and really try to do it in closer to 90 minutes.  

Now, for a little intrigue and mystery.  As we were walking along the Centennial Trail, (a path along the Spokane River that actually runs all the way into Coeur d’Alene from downtown Spokane) heading to the convention center to pick up our race numbers and the nifty little RFID chip that we were to strap to our ankles and which would give us each our own, accurate finishing time (new to the race this year), we saw a cell phone in the ivy in a landscape border that separated the Marriot Courtyard hotel from the path. My daughter picked it up and handed it to me.  I turned it on and saw it worked perfectly.  I decided to call the last number dialed and find out whose phone it was so we could get it back to the owner.  A girl answered saying “Alex!”  I told her that we had just found the phone and asked her who it belonged to.  She said it belonged to her friend, Alex, and she’d been trying to reach him.  We talked about options for getting it back to him, but no plan was decided upon.  I looked at his list of recent calls.  He’d madly been dialing family and friends from about 2:30 a.m. until almost 3 a.m.  It didn’t appear he’d gotten a hold of anyone by the length of the calls.  The girl I’d called said she was worried.  He’d tried to call her multiple times.  I finally decided to call the listing that said “Dad” since he’d tried to call “Dad” at 2:40 a.m.  Turned out Dad was on his way to run Bloomsday too.  But the fact that I had Alex’s phone, and we’d found it alongside the river, scared him.  He asked me to hang on to the phone and we’d keep in touch.  I had to call him on my phone because Alex’s phone was almost dead.  Dad made several calls.  I tried to get more info from Alex’s phone by looking at text messages he’d sent and received, etc.  While I was looking at Alex’s phone, it rang.  I answered it and told the caller what the deal was.  The caller was a friend and knew who Alex was with the night before.  He said he’d start calling around and he’d call Dad.  Now everyone is getting really worried.  Apparently, Alex has his jaw wired shut and, according to Dad, shouldn’t be out drinking (my first assumption was he’d been drunk and lost it), but then, we all know how our kids do things they shouldn’t do (does the name Jonathan ring a bell?).  So, as I’m waiting at the start of Bloomsday, Dad is frantically looking for Alex.  He calls every few minutes to ask me questions like where exactly did we find it, was it where it might have fallen off the overpass? (no), how close to the river was it?  I knew what he was thinking – the same things I’d be thinking if it were my kid, the same things I was worried about myself for this kid.  Finally, Dad decided he’s going to forego Bloomsday and keep looking for his kid.  Turns out, he was out drinking with his friends, got separated from them, and was walking around in a drunken stupor alone.  Now we’re all worried.  Dad calls and decides to meet me along the Bloomsday course and get Alex’s phone.  About three or four blocks into the race, I see Dad talking to me on his phone describing himself.  I give him the phone, ask him to please let us know what happens, and tell him we’ll be praying for him and Alex.  So, we run, worrying and wondering about Alex.  

After the race, once we order our food at the Olive Garden, I call Dad.  He starts off by thanking me for finding the phone, for making such a concerted effort to get it back to Alex, and for calling him.  He has just retrieved Alex from Taco Bell about a mile or so from where we found the phone.  Apparently, Alex was robbed.  He was beaten up some too, but was okay.  His dad didn’t go into much detail.  He’d only had Alex for about 15 minutes.  He said Alex would call me in a couple of days to thank me.  I asked how old Alex was.  21.  Of course.  I’m sure Alex is not too happy with me.  He’s probably glad I found his phone, but now his dad knows about his night, and he probably would have rather told his dad about it at his convenience as opposed to have a frantic dad, friends, mother, and half the world looking for him.  I don’t know yet where he spent the night, how he got to Taco Bell, or how his phone got separated from him and in the bushes by the Marriot (did the thieves toss it there?  Did he lose it?) but I’m definitely going to ask Alex to fill me in when he does call.  So, that was our dramatic back story as we ran Bloomsday.  Thankfully, Alex is okay and not floating in the Spokane River, as was our deepest fear.  Maybe this will be a wake-up call to Alex as to how he should spend his Saturday nights.  We’ll see.  After all, he is only 21.

MIA? Sort of.

I’ll probably be mostly MIA for the next few days, maybe the next few weeks.  Only eleven days until we depart for the UK.  I am trying desperately to complete some projects at work before my departure, line up my back-up help in case the library has any problems while I’m incommunicado, and get myself together at home as I prepare for the trip.  Next weekend we have to move most of Jonathan’s stuff home from school.  The following week is finals week, so he’ll be swamped.  Sunday I’m participating (I’m not going to even suggest that I’ll be running) in Bloomsday with my daughter.  I’ll be a wreck for most of the day after that and probably won’t be able to walk for the next two days.  The following week will be filled with packing, making lists against which I will check to make sure we don’t forget anything important, like passports, airline confirmations, and hotel/condo confirmations.  In addition to all this frenzied activity, I will be mowing the lawn twice a week in an attempt to keep up with the seemingly steroid-induced growth of our lawn.  I’ve got to find a power converter for my curling iron and laptop, arrange for my cat to be fed and tended to (son-in-law usually takes care of this on his way to work), and borrow camera lenses from my dad.  There is almost too much to do and so little time in which to do it.  So… I may not blog, may not comment on blogs, though I’ll probably read them when I can.  I’m thinking of you all.

Just a quickie

My project at work, which had a deadline of today - sort of - is not going well. I am having all sorts of strange glitches that the software vendor has never seen before. Of course. Unless some miracle takes place in the next few days, this project will not be completed before I depart for Merry Olde England. At least my boss understands it's not my fault.

Yesterday AM I called the resort in Scotland and the one in England at which we will be staying. They had both sent me these little forms wherein I could check off the things I would be needing during my stay (crib, high chair, food pack) and mail it back to them. I never got around to mailing it, so decided to phone in my needs. The food pack costs 10 pounds. I had no idea what it included, but assumed it was stuff like tea, coffee, salt and pepper maybe...who knew. So, first call is to Scotland. She was very nice, but really hard to understand. I think I got a preview of how communications might go while we're there.

She: mbgltdld dlek Kenmore Club skadf.
Me: Is this the Kenmore Club?
She: Yes
Me: This is Gina E. We are arriving on May 14. I have not sent the paper back saying I would like a food pack, so I wanted to call to let you know that we do want one. Can you tell me what is in it?
She: tay, butterrrrr, eggs, milk, mmmblglfkat
Me: Sounds great. We'd like that please.
She: D'u have u'rrrrr rrrrrreservation number?
Me: Not on me. Can you find it by our name?
She: I'll give it a go. When r u arrrrriving now?
Me: May 14
She: Herrrrre it is. alrrrright then. got u doon fur a food pack. Thank u.
Me: Thanks very much.

Then I called England:

She: Wychnor Park Country Club. May I 'elp you?
Me: This is me... we're arriving on May 20, blah blah blah
She: Do you have your reservation number?
Me: Not with me. Can you look me up?
She: I'm not sure, love, but let me give it a go. Your name is (I tell her and spell it)... you are arriving when now, sweetheart? (I tell her the date) Thomas and Gina?
Me: Yes, that's us.
She: Here it is! Great. Now what was it you wanted?
Me: Can you tell me what is in the food pack?
She: Bread, butter, milk, tea, jam, it's quite nice really, love.
Me: Yes, we'd like one please.
She: Alright then, sweetheart. I have you down for the food pack. And we'll see you on May 20th then.
Me: This is our first trip to the UK.
She: Oh, you'll have a lovely time. The Americans really loov it here with all the history and all. It's really quite loovely here.
Me: Well, thank you very much for your help.
She: Thank you now, love. And you have a safe flight over, now. We'll see you soon.

So, I think we'll manage find in England, but I'm not so sure about Scotland. Half of what the gal said I could not make out at all. And she was not nearly as animated and friendly as the English gal. I guess we'll see when we arrive. But it's nice to know what the food pack contains! It's much more than we'd anticipated and should make breakfasts pretty easy.

Jonathan had his dorm lottery Monday, during which students put in for the dorm room they want for the coming school year. If you want to stay in the same room, and your roommate does too, you get it automatically. If you don't want your same room, or you do but your roommate won't be your roommate, but you want to stay in your same dorm, you get dibs over an "outsider". If you're going into a different dorm, your chances of getting a particular room are based upon a combination of points (1 for each year you've been at school) and your lottery number (a random number assigned by computer). Jonathan's roommate won't be back next year so he couldn't call same room. He also didn't have anyone picked to room with next year, so he decided he wanted a single room. It will cost about $400 more than if he had a roommate, but since he'll only be on campus for one semester, and he promised to pay the difference, we okayed that option. Since he's staying in the same dorm, he had no trouble at all getting the room he wanted. It's just down the hall from his current room, and will be a great room for him. Not having a roommate has its pros and cons. He won't have to deal with anyone else's mess or sleeping habits or noise, but it might get kind of lonely. Fortunately, he's right next door to the showers so there will be a lot of activity right outside his door. I think it will work out well for him. So, pretty much all the deadlines have been met for next year, with the exception of my completion of the renewal FAFSA, which I will do today.

Now....off to work on my glitch-filled project.

It's begun

Mowing season. In one day, the weather went from downpour after downpour, to moments of sunshine, to a full day of sun. Grass is amazing stuff. It can go from brown and dormant to spring green and growing like a weed overnight. Ours did. In just a a couple of days it went from short and tidy looking and still dormant to too long to mow with the mulching mower. That was Sunday. Not only was it too long, but about half an inch below the tops of the grass blades, it was a soggy, boggy mess. But we mowed anyway. Now, the backyard has grass turds all over it. That's what I call the clumps of grass that the mulcher leaves behind when it can't cope with the length and sogginess of the grass. Hundreds and hundreds of grass turds dot our lawn. We tried to pick them up, rake them up even, to no avail. They just break into grass turd pellets, like rabbit pellets, and bury themselves deep into the lawn. My shoes, after that first round of mowing, looked like grass slippers. No, not glass slippers, GRASS slippers. You couldn't tell that I had black loafers under the grass. My jeans were green from the hem to about the top of my ankle. My hands looked like they belonged to a Martian, green and slimey. I hate this time of year. And guess what I get to do tonight? Yeah, round two. At least it's shorter, and not wet. But still.... it's only mid-April. I'm not ready for this.

Moderately speaking

I just finished reading a few posts on some of the blogs of my bloggy friends who hold political views that differ from mine. Actually, it seems most of my blog friends have different political stances than I have, and that's okay - at least, it is with me. I can't speak for them. Perhaps they think otherwise about me. During my perusal of these other blogs, I have come to the conclusion that I am not quite what I have thought myself to be for the past several years. If labels were being handed out, I would have opted for the "conservative" label. After all, I am a Christian and I am a registered Republican. Those traits pretty much mark one as a conservative. But the reality is, I'm a moderate. I can't help but wonder if that admission will make people think less of me. Does it mark me as wishy-washy? Is a moderate what the Bible is talking about when it speaks of being lukewarm? I hope not!

By nature, as far back as I can recall, I have been a peacemaker. I try desperately to see both sides of a conflict. If I am part of the conflict, I try to see the other person's point of view. If I am mediating a conflict, I try to get the parties involved to see things from each other's point of view. I just want peace. That is not to say I won't fight to the death for things I believe in, to protect my family, or for someone who is wronged and can't fight for themselves. I will and I have (okay, obviously not literally to the death.) I will also debate to the bitter end a subject on which I have a strongly held position, based on facts, evidence, and experience. I am quite tenacious, quite persuasive, and if nothing else, I can talk a lot, fast, and with great emotion. My opponents usually just tire out. :)

Seriously, there are some subjects on which I can debate for a long, long time. Curiously, those discussions are rarely on politics or religion. I've said this before; I don't mind respectful, meaningful, spirited discussions on these topics. But too often, my experience has been that discussing these matters devolves into little more than childish "I'm right, you're wrong" arguments that do nothing to enlighten either party on the other's point of view. That sort of "discussion" has a very negative physical affect on me. I tend to simply walk away, metaphorically and physically. So, my blog friends who are of the more liberal persuasion, please don't shake your head at me. I read your posts. I agree with some of what you write. I disagree with probably more. But I don't hold you in disdain because you and I have opposing viewpoints. I won't try to convince you to see things my way. I may ask you to clarify your position once in a while (thanks, Sara, for doing that when I commented on your blog), and I hope you will oblige me. I hope we can disagree respectfully, without shaking our heads and clucking our tongues behind each other's backs as if to say "poor idiot. What on earth is his/her problem?"

So, why do I think I'm a moderate? Well, as much as I think the media has a huge influence over our perception of politicians by showing them to us in a positive or negative light based upon their (the media's) political persuasion, I have to say I don't always agree with President Bush's decisions. I think the media has gone out of their way to portray him as an idiot, and giving him far too much credit/blame for things that Congress has much more influence over than he does, but he has made some decisions and statements that I'm not thrilled with.

Also, despite my Christian beliefs, I don't think the gay marriage issue is something to get worked up over. To me, it's just semantics. Gays are already living together in "committed relationships" and are allowed civil unions in most states. What's the big deal if they have a ceremony and are considered "married"? We've destroyed the "sanctity of marriage" in this country by allowing divorces to be granted so easily, so that argument carries little weight with me. If people are against gay marriage because homosexuality is a sin, and by allowing them to marry we are condoning their sin, well, I believe four things - you cannot legislate morality, no sin is worse than another, God is in control, and we are not God. Being gay is no worse a sin than cheating on your taxes, or gossiping about your coworker. Who are we to cast the first stone? If it's about sin, why is the outrage not there over heterosexual couples who live together without benefit of marriage - or famous people who have children without being married? I don't see us trying to pass laws against that. We need to stop judging others and focus on ourselves, our shortcomings, our relationship with the Lord, and our example to the world. Who did Jesus hang out with when he was walking the earth? Not the Brad Pitts and Angelina Jolies, not the Bill Clintons and Bill Gates. He hung out with the homeless guy you pass every morning on your way to get your latte. He hung out with the streetwalker in the red light district. He hung out with the ambulance chasing lawyer. I hope he'd have hung out with me.

There are other topics on which I have adopted a moderate stance. I can't think of any in particular at this moment, but suffice it to say, while I do have strong conservative leanings, I find myself adopting a moderate stance more and more often, to my husband's chagrin.

Possible hiatus alert

I may not post for a while - like more than a week. The reason? My boss just gave me an impossible deadline, which will leave pretty much no time for blogging or commenting on the blogs of my friends. I will likely become a shriveled old shrew over the course of the next several days as I attempt to meet this deadline. Since this deadline involves computers, rest assured that anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. And that from me, a technophile. What is the world coming to?

I am also, despite almost a year of research and planning, beginning to freak out about our upcoming trip to the UK. I am suddenly convinced that we will have no clue what we are doing, what sights we want to see, how we will get around, or what we will eat, and we will sit in our cottages bickering the entire time while it pours outside. I'm also convinced we will not pack the right things, will forget important items, and everything will go horribly wrong. Why am I getting like this? I don't react this way when we travel in the US. Is it because this is such a huge deal and because we are flying somewhere "foreign" on an actual airplane over the Atlantic Ocean? I don't know. All I know is my stomach is churning out enough acid to devour a Highland cow in 3 minutes flat just because I'm thinking about the trip. Lord help me!

Life is a merry-go-round

First of all, some minor adjustments to the recent spate of good news. Jonathan, because he has never taken any French in his life, is going to have to forego the Christianity in Britain course that he was selected to participate in during Jan Term 2007 so that he can take French 130 - a French immersion class. He's bummed, since the professor for the CiB class is Keith Beebe - a really amazing prof the kids all really like, and also because he was hoping to just go right from the CiB class into the France Study Program, with a few days on his own between sessions. But he's okay with the situation, since the FSP was the program he really wanted to do more than anything. Also, because he will be in France for a semester earning credits he really doesn't need for graduation (he's fulfilled them all except the communications requirement), there's a good possibility he will not graduate in May 2008. It may be possible if he can take some summer classes or some May term classes, but he will probably end up taking a couple of computer science or physics classes during the Fall of 2008 in order to graduate. It's worth it, though, in order to have the experience he will have during his semester in France. Today he registers for Fall semester classes. He has to take French 101 and French Civ in order to go to France. He'll also be taking two computer science classes, and either physics or Core 250 (a western civ sort of class), and also newspaper, so he'll have a busy, 17 credit schedule. He's getting to the point where most of what he takes will be those required by his major now - computer science, physics, and math classes - as opposed to general ed classes, with the exception of the Core classes (he has to take 250 and 350 yet).

On another note, we were hoping to maybe coordinate a week's vacation to coincide with the week he'll have off next March, so he could show us the sights in Paris. Alas, since my husband and his coworkers have to bid their vacations a year in advance, and the bidding period just ended before we knew about Jonathan going to France, the week in question is taken, as is every week in March, April, and May. We could probably go in February, and may do that, but we have some pondering to do before making that decision. I guess we'll wait to see how our upcoming trip goes.

Speaking of upcoming trips, it's only 25 days away! I can hardly believe it's so close! I also can't believe I am still so far from my weight loss goal! I am really going to have to step up my efforts if I want to get close to achieving my goal. We had a scare yesterday. My husband was notified, along with all the other couriers, that they needed 10 people to work on Saturday, May 13 - the day before Mother's Day - so everyone should plan on working. Well, we leave that day. No way he can work. He told his boss that we were flying out that day so he couldn't work and her reply was "well, then you'd better sign up for a Saturday between now and then so you're off the draft list". Every Saturday between now and then is already fully staffed. Thankfully, other couriers know we've been planning this trip for a year and were not going to let this be a problem. Ten of them volunteered to work, so he doesn't have to worry about being drafted. Phew!

Easter was great. We had the whole gang over (all the kids, grandkids), had a great brunch (I made ham), and the kids hunted for eggs Jonathan and I had hidden. The weather held, though they had predicted snow. It was a great day, especially when one paused to remember what it was we were celebrating.

Work is so busy today that I have to end now and get busy. More later, I promise. Oh, Jonathan has many photos published in his school paper. Some are here: Mac Hall in Concert, though wrongly attributed to Kyle Bisch, and also here: WhitPics. He got to use the school's new digital SLR setup, a Nikon D70s and some amazing lenses, and had a great time taking the photos.

Boo hoo... I just checked JoAnn's blog...and it's no longer. She warned me she was probably going to stop blogging, and I understand her reasons for doing so, but it makes me sad. Time to delete the link to it in my blog. (sniffle, sniffle) Well, in the words of Porky Pig - th-th-th-that's all, folks!

A Banner Week

This really has turned out to be a banner week. Jonathan got into the FSP (see below) and our board voted to adjust our salary scale to bring all the wages paid to staff up to market value. For some on staff that means a 20% increase, for others, a little less, for a lucky few who were already being paid at market value for their positions, it means no increase at all. For me, it's a 9% increase, effective April 26. My director is getting the largest increase - nearly a 30% increase. He deserves it. He's been sorely underpaid for years. He is the director of the third busiest library system in Idaho and yet his pay has ranked far below that of directors of much smaller library systems. With Jonathan's upcoming trip to France, I'm going to need every bit of that raise. What an amazing week.

The most awesomely awesome news yet!

I am about to explode with happiness! Jonathan got accepted to the France Study Program!!!! There are not enough exclamation points in the world to express how ecstatic I am for him and he is for himself!

He gets to spend 3 months studying in France with 19 fellow students and 3 faculty from his school. He will be there from February 2 to May 1st next year. They will spend 6 weeks in Paris. They will spend the remaining time in various other parts of France, part of that time living with a French family. They will have 8 days on their own, to go wherever they want, do what they want, whatever, the first week of April.

This is a really competitive program, so to have been selected...well, it's really, really an honor. I feel like Sally Field - "they like him, they really like him!" I am so proud of him I can't contain myself. What an incredible experience this will be for him.

He had to interview for the program on Tuesday as part of the selection process, as well as submit 3 faculty and one peer reference. He told me what he had said during the interview, and I was pretty impressed with his answers. Apparently, the panel was too! One question was "why do you want to go." His answer was, apart from the obvious reason - to live in a France - he really felt that living in a foreign country helps you to learn things about yourself you might not learn if you are always surrounded by the familiar sights, sounds, and people of the US. He told them he also wanted a chance to live among the French, to see their culture firsthand, so that when people talk about the French, especially in a stereotypical fashion, he could say "they're not like that. I know. I lived there" or "you're right. They are like that, but they are also like this...". I thought those were good answers, especially the one about learning about yourself.

So... we're really, really, excited here! I was, literally, in tears when he told me. I wanted this for him so much. It will be a life-changing experience for him. I couldn't be happier. God is so awesome! I was on pins and needles all night, couldn't sleep, prayed pretty much non-stop all night, and was just so blessed when he gave me the news. NOW, the whole not getting the RA thing makes so much sense. Why do I insist on trying to tell God how to work things out when He has such a better plan? Some day I'll learn.

Photobucket

I posted a few more photos in my photobucket. There are new photo stamps on the left now. I'll be posting more photos this entire week. A lot are from the two trips we took last spring and summer to Seattle, Vancouver BC, and Victoria BC. Some will be from around my town and neighborhood over the course of this past, very odd, winter. And I may follow Charlie's lead, and post some childhood pics. So, just keep checking it out over the next couple of weeks, if you're interested.

Today I will be away from my computer, so you won't hear much from me. I know, I know. How will you survive? I'm sorry. I know this will be very difficult for you, but you will manage. ;)

It's all been worth it

It seems, when it comes to your children, there is always one moment that stands out when you realize two things: one – they actually were listening to you all those times you admonished them, warned them, encouraged them, or advised them, despite the fact that their eyes glazed over (when they weren’t rolling) and they had a look of utter disdain on their faces, and two – they realize you were right, and that you were only trying to teach them what they needed to know to succeed in life, and they really do appreciate you for doing so.  With our oldest, that moment came when we read an essay he wrote about who was the most influential person in his life.  He wrote that his parents were the most influential people in his life, and went on to explain why.  It was very touching, especially because he is not one to show his emotions much at all.  He is a very quiet, private person.  He said things in the essay we had no idea he felt.  We were proud of the young man he had become, and we realized that he was a lot more mature and level-headed than we’d realized.  Sometimes, dealing with your kids on a daily basis can blind you to how much they’ve matured.  It requires taking a step back to see them for the people they have become, or are becoming.  That essay helped us take that step back and see him for the amazing young man he had become, right under our noses.  

With our daughter, the moment came watching her with her children.  They were fighting and being horrible to each other, and she dealt with them with such patience and gentleness, (I would have been more inclined to holler at them and send them off to their rooms to cool down) and got them apologize to each other, to hug each other, and then play nicely together.  The things she said… the manner in which she said them… well, I was impressed at her calm.  I was never that calm when my kids were growing up.  But her dad was.  When I complimented her on how well she’d dealt with the kids, she explained that she remembered how sad it made her when her older brother was mean to her when she was little.  She remembered how much she just wanted to play with him and be his friend.  She understands that her youngest just wants his older sister’s acceptance and attention, and so she tries to make her daughter understand that.  But she also gives her daughter some time without her brother bugging her so she can feel older and special.  She reminded me that we used to do that with her and her brother when they were little.  So, she was paying attention.  Amazing.

With our youngest, that moment came yesterday.  During my brother’s visit, as I mentioned, he picked Jonathan up and took him along with them to visit some friends.  I didn’t know this, but Jonathan spent some time with my niece, the 14 year-old.  Apparently, she’s been in trouble at home.  She told Jonathan what she was in trouble for (talking to a 17 year-old boy on her cell phone all night).  She went on to tell him that she really didn’t like her dad (gee, really?) and that he was always on her case.  She also confided about some other things she’s done that a 14 year-old shouldn’t be doing.  Jonathan apparently doled out some “big brotherly” advice to her, telling her “you really shouldn’t be doing that, cousin, and if I hear of you doing it again, you’re going to have to deal with me.”  He went on to tell her that, though she thought her parents were mean and didn’t like her dad right now, they really were only looking out for what was best for her.  He explained that they know the consequences of the mistakes she was making, or might make, and were only trying to help her avoid them and guide her to better decisions.  He shared some of the stupid things he had done, and the consequences of his actions, and told her that if he’d listened to us, he would have avoided a lot problems, and he regrets not having done so.  He urged her to listen to what her dad said and told her to stay out of trouble.  He also gave her his phone numbers so she could call him any time she needed to talk.  My niece now adores her cousin.  She went on and on to me about what a neat guy he is, how nice he was to her, and how much fun she had with him.  Jonathan told me what he had said to her, and how he had tried to encourage her.  I told him I was really proud of him.  Wow.  He’s been listening.  He gets it. He IS growing up, and I am pretty sure he’s going to turn out great.

Jonathan's good news

Jonathan called lsst night. He was bored. I guess calling Mom is a good choice for relieving boredom. I'm not complaining! I am glad every time he calls me. While we were on the phone, talking about his guild in World of Warcraft (an online game with which he is consumed) he decided to check his email. Suddenly, he shouted "YES!" and read me the email that had elicited that response. He has been accepted to the class Christianity in Britain for Jan Term 2007. That means he gets to go to Britain to study about the history of Christianity. He was ecstatic. The next email told him the faculty selecting students for a semester in France wanted to interview him! YES! He may be accepted for that program as well, which means he will leave the first of January 2007 and not return until the first of May 2007 if he gets into both programs. After being turned down for Core 250 in Europe Jan Term, and for an RA position, he was pretty disheartened, fearing his low cumulative GPA was dashing any hopes he had of being accepted into any study abroad program. Now, he's in one for sure, and maybe in two. Now it makes sense that he's not an RA. He couldn't be an RA and leave for Jan Term and Spring Term. God always has a plan. Sometimes we just need to be patient to see it unfold. So... smiles abound in our household. Hopefully, he'll get into the France Study Program too. I'll let you know when he finds out. For now, we're happy with Britain. He's going to go thank the professor today. Then, we start figuring out how to pay for it. He says he'll work two jobs this summer if he has to. He'll have to. But it's for a good cause. I'm really happy for him.

So....YAY!

Brothers and stuff

I realized I had not yet posted about my brother's visit. It was great. It was much too short, though. He arrived at my house shortly before noon, family in tow. The kids have grown so much, as kids are wont to do. My brother's namesake, the middle child (as was he), reminds me so much of my brother when he was a teenager. He looks very much like a darker version of my brother and has the same droll wit.

His daughter, the eldest, is very much a teenager, in every sense of the word. She seems constantly annoyed with the world, especially her brothers and parents. As a young child, she was a very happy, bubbly little girl who adored her Aunt Gina. I think she still might adore me a little, but the adoration is buried beneath her facade of boredom and disgust with everything. I am sure it drives her parents crazy. Once my brother snapped at her about her attitude. I wish I could give them some sage advice on how to deal with her attitude. All I could say was, "she'll outgrow this eventually. She doesn't really hate you and her brothers. This is perfectly normal." I know that doesn't help. It didn't help me when my daughter was behaving the same way. It took everything in me to keep from slapping her silly most days, especially after being on the receiving end of one of her long sighs accompanied by eye rolling and a look of utter disdain for what I had just said. I usually resorted to a verbal slap, letting her know just how little I thought of her behavior and attitude. It didn't help. It just made life difficult, stressful, and contentious. I wish I could make that point to my brother, but it's like someone saying your grief over a lost love or a death will subside if you just let time take care of things. You know it in your head, but hearing someone tell you that doesn't change how you feel. I know my brother knows his daughter is behaving normally and will outgrow this phase, and me telling him so won't make him "get it" any better.

The yougest is delightful. He is adorable, fun-loving, and sweet. He's only 9. Give him time. He was just 6 the last time I saw him, so he barely remembered me. I hope I made a more memorable impression on him this time.

Arriving so close to lunchtime, everyone was starved. We were going to just go for a burger at McD's (it's cheap), but I hate their food. I decided we should go to Serv-A-Burger, our locally owned burger joint that makes amazing burgers and the best onion rings in the whole panhandle of Idaho, maybe thte whole Pacific Northwest. On our way to S-A-B we started talking about Mexican fast food. They frequent a place in Medford called Muchas Gracias. That made me think of Joel's, a Mexican food place here that started in a little stand like an espresso stand, but due to incredible popular demand, had to move to larger quarters with seating for about 25 people. Joel's is run by Joel and his wife, Rebecca. They are both Mexican, from the part of Mexico that is closest to Cozumel and Cancun (I forget the state) but both have lived in the US for most of their lives. Rebecca told us about their heritage, but I don't remember the details exept for the fact that they have Aztec in them, which not a lot of Mexicans do, and they look very different from most of the Mexicans I grew up around in that they are not very dark-skinned and have very different features. I guess it has a lot to do with which Indians are in their line. Anyway, Joel and Rebecca are the coolest people, and they make some amazing and cheap Mexican food. So, I decided we had to eat there instead of the burger joint. At Joel's, a carne asada burrito that is enormous - almost too big for one person to eat - is only $4.25. At the local Mexican restaurant, it's $9. The one at Joel's beats the other one all to heck. The 6 of us ate, with drinks, until we were stuffed, for just $25 - my treat. I think even McD's would have cost us close to that much and wouldn't have been nearly as good.

After lunch, we went to my daughter's house and hung out there for a couple of hours. My husband stopped by on his lunch break to hang out with us. After my son-on-law came home, we headed back to our house so my brother could take a nap. While he was napping, my sister-in-law, the kids, and I watched some shows I had Tivo'd. My sister-in-law, by the way, has managed to stop time. She looks as amazing and beautiful now as she did when they got married 24 years ago. I don't know how she has accomplished this. She does have some gray hair now, but she does what all women our age do - she highlights and colors her hair - so you'd never know she had gray. She has no wrinkles. She's as thin as ever (I hate her for that), and she's just as sweet and caring as ever. There isn't a mean bone in that woman's body. I adore her and just wish I had more time to spend with her.

Time... it went by much too quickly. All of us (me, my hubby, daughter and her gang, brother and his gang) gathered at another Sandpoint landmark - Second Avenue Pizza - for dinner. This place makes the most amazing pizzas you will ever eat. Whereas one large Domino's or Pizza Hut pizza is almost not enough to fill up two people, one large Second Avenue pizza will feed 5 people to full capacity, no problem. One piece is almost all you can eat. They are loaded with toppings and have the best crust in the world. I ordered three pizzas - the usual fully loaded one, a Mexican one (soooo good!), and a pepperoni one for the kids. We had the equivalent of an entire pizza left over, and that was with 3 men, a teenage boy (we all know how much they eat), 3 women (we eat our fair share), and the rest of the kids (4 more) eating. After pizza, my brother and his family returned to our house to spend the night. We visited for about an hour before we all had to hit the hay. The next morning I had an early appointment and they headed out to see my dad. After their stop at Dad's, they came by work and said goodbye to me. It was a whirlwind visit. I felt like I was talking 1000 miles an hour the whole time. We decided they would come back the week of July 4 for a week (we'll be off work) and spend some quality time together. That is, if it doesn't conflict with their mission trip to the Dominican Republic. I'm praying it doesn't. I didn't really get enough of them.

When they went back to Spokane, they did hook up with Jonathan, picking him up and taking him with them to visit some friends of theirs from when they lived in Spokane. They spent the evening together, which was a nice change of pace for Jonathan. My brother couldn't believe how much Jonathan has grown in the past three years and how big he is. Jonathan couldn't believe how big my brother's kids are. Kids remind us of how fast time is flying by, and how old we are. Sigh.

I can see clearly now

I've worn soft contact lenses since 1973. I am blind as a bat without corrective lenses. I had the requisite tortoise shell horn-rimmed glasses throughout high school - though nowadays they are considered cool "emo glasses" - and just hated them. As soon as soft contacts were readily available, I got them. I had no idea the world could look so sharp. I enjoyed the unframed view so much that I've never gone back to glasses, and have always had a hard time understanding why anyone would wear them if soft contacts were an option. I have a slight astigmatism in my right eye. I've gone for decades without correcting it, and it hasn't proven to be a problem. But I'm over 50 now, and presbyopia has set in. Thankfully, because I am so nearsighted, it has taken ten years longer than it takes most people. A blessing in disguise, I guess. Now that I need reading glasses, my astigmatism has become a problem. So, I started wearing a toric lens in my right eye. Toric lenses are designed to correct your astigmatism and are weighted to keep them positioned correctly in your eye. At first, I wore them with great success. But for the past two years, the stupid lens will not stay in place. Rather, it rotates about 5 degrees off center. So, I was constantly fiddling with the lens, trying to rotate it back into position, to no avail. AFter struggling with this problem for over two years, I gave in and got glasses - progessive lenses, no less. I was officially a member of the old fart demographic.

Everything I used to hate about glasses back in high school, I found I still hate about glasses. They get dirty just sitting on your face. They fog up when you open the oven. They fog up when you come inside from chilly outside. They get raindrops on them when it's raining. They make me look old and geeky. I started contemplating Lasik. Two weeks ago I went to the eye doctor for my annual checkup. Due to changes in our insurance provider, I had to see a new optometrist in Spokane. I talked to him about my toric problems. He said I could probably get away with not wearing a toric lens since my astigmatism isn't that bad. Then he went on to suggest something new and different - bifocal contact lenses. He explained that they work for 60% of the people who try them, so they may not work out. I figured I'd give it a shot. He had to order them. They would come in the following week. He and I discussed Lasik. He informed me that, if I had it, I would need reading glasses, period, no exceptions. That didn't discourage me, but the literature I read that said I would need reading glasses even to read the computer screen did. If I'm going to wear glasses pretty much all day long at work, why get Lasik? I was crossing my fingers that this new contact lens option would be the answer to my problems. I left his office with two non-toric temporary lenses and an appointment for the following week, during which I would test out these bifocal lenses.

When I got home, I tested the theory that the bifocal lens would eliminate my need for a toric lens by wearing my distance vision correcting only lens with a pair of reading glasses. Amazingly, I could read the computer screen just fine, could read any printed material, and didn't seem to even notice that I had an astigmatism. I had high hopes.

Saturday dawned dark and rainy. We headed to Spokane to both get my new lenses and see Jonathan. I entered his office with both excitement and trepidation. If these lenses didn't work out, I felt doomed to wearing glasses. I sat in the chair. His wife put the new lenses in front of me, asked me if I've worn contacts before (are you KIDDING? I'm an old hand at this!), and left me to insert them while she went to get the doctor. The minute I put the lenses in, I knew they would work. I could SEE. I could READ! I was free! He told me to wear these for a week, and if they work out for me, to call and order a year's worth. Well, they are working! I don't have razor sharp vision at distance, but I can see at least 20/50. Up close, I can read anything. No more reading glasses! I feel like I did when I first got contacts. I feel ilke a whole new glasses-free world has just opened up for me. I don't know exactly how they work (where the bifocal part is and how it stays where it's supposed to stay) but who cares? I can see!!!

Okay, this is just too cool

You have to check this link out. It's a live streaming video of a bald eagle's nest. There is a bald eagle chick in it. It is way, way cool. (FYI, the link is the title of this post, so just click it.)

Housekeeping

My husband is a perfectionist.  Poor guy.  He’s married to me – the anti-perfectionist.  Well, I suppose that’s not entirely accurate.  I am very much a perfectionist about some things, but one of those things is not housework.  

My house is clean, but not spotless.  I don’t have an eat-off-the-floor clean house.  Dirty laundry is in the hamper, dishes are in the dishwasher waiting for the cycle to be run, stuff like that.  Once a week I do laundry.  Three or four times a week the dishwasher is run (with only two of us, it takes a few days to fill up).  The problem is the clean stuff.  Clean laundry often sits on the sofa, separated into piles (his work clothes, his t-shirts, towels, my stuff, etc.) waiting to be folded and put away, sometimes for the entire workweek.  The pile naturally gets smaller each day as clean clothing is retrieved to be worn, but finding the time to actually fold everything and put it away is a trick I’ve yet to master.  Same goes for the clean dishes in the dishwasher, although I usually do end up emptying it within two days of the dishes being washed, mostly so I have somewhere to put dirty dishes.  

And then there is the stuff waiting to be read.  On the end table next to my “spot” on the sofa is a small pile of magazines and books, all in various stages of being read.  Right now I have four magazines, two books, and one newspaper sitting here.  I will get to them eventually.  Or not.  Sometimes, the magazines get tossed without being read thoroughly.  The books may end up back in the bookcase, bookmarks firmly in place, to be finished at a later date.  The newspapers get perused quickly, then go to the trash usually each week.  

My husband hates this pile.  He hates the mound on my dresser worse.  It is comprised of stuff to be filed – bills, bank statements, owner’s manuals or recently acquired items, and who knows what else – all stuff I have deemed necessary that must be filed in the 4-drawer filing cabinet next to my dresser. About once every three months I attack the pile.  It drives me crazy, but I just don’t look at it.  

Clutter is my biggest enemy.  And my poor husband has to put up with it – or clean it himself – which he does every now and then.  Last Sunday was one of those “now and thens”.  In anticipation of my brother’s arrival, we cleaned house.  The place is almost spotless.  The clutter on the kitchen counter is gone.  The laundry is put away.  The dishwasher is empty.  The pile is still on my dresser, though.  

The biggest thing I did, though, was clean the fish tank.  It was pretty sad.  Algae covered the sides.  I was down to three fish – a killer opaline gourami who single-handedly killed 30 other fish that used to live with him in the tank, a cory catfish that somehow escaped the gourami, and a golden plecostomus that started off about 2” long, but grew to over 8” long in about 4 months.  (It is huge, ugly, prehistoric, and does a pretty terrible job of keeping the tank clean – the only real reason to have a plecostomus – but I’ve had it for two years, so I can’t bring myself to part with it.)  

Sunday I attacked the tank.  I vacuumed it, removing over half the water.  I took the plants out (fake ones) and washed the algae off them.  I completely cleaned the filter, the hood, scraped the algae off the glass, and filled it with clean water.  The tank had always suffered from way too few plants.  My husband liked a Spartan look.  Unfortunately, fish don’t.  I was finally able to convince him of this, reminding him of the beautiful tanks we had seen in the doctor’s office a few months ago and how full of plants they were.  I told him fish need to be able to hide and we didn’t have enough plants for them to do that.  We do now.  It’s really beautiful.  I then bought more fish – two dwarf gouramis, 6 tiger barbs, 6 neons, and 2 zebra danios.  The Killer Gourami is going away.  The fish store has agreed to take him in trade for more fish.  When I put the new fish in the tank, KG immediately went after them, reaching out his little feelers/antennas to touch and antagonize them, especially the new gouramis.  Sadly, today three tiger barbs were dead, but they were Wal-Mart fish. I don’t usually buy fish from Wal-Mart – there are usually more dead fish in their tanks than live ones – but I wanted 6 tiger barbs and the fish store only had two in stock, so I took a chance.  3 of 4 have died.  Oh well.  I’ll get a refund and check to see if the fish store has had a new shipment come in yet.  The other fish are doing great, despite constant harassment from KG.  He has got to go.

So, my house looks awesomely clean.  My fish tank is in the best shape yet. I have the day off, though the projects in which I am embroiled are nagging at me, and I have been working from home since 6 AM.  My brother will be here in a couple of hours.  They’re showing dolphins playing in the water just 100 yards offshore in Hermosa Beach, CA on Fox 11 Good Day LA.  Dolphins!  In Southern California!  How cool!  How come I never saw dolphins in all my years growing up at the beach?  Global warming.  Must be the reason.  The dolphins think they’re in Hawaii, or Miami.  It’s not warming here.  It’s supposed to maybe snow mixed with rain today.  No dolphins in Lake Pend Oreille.  Rats.

Brotherly love

I adore my brother.  Growing up – not so much.  He is the lone boy in a family of four children.  He falls #3 in the lineup (I am the much revered #1, of course).  He was the most annoying, aggravating brother in the world.  The three of us girls had, at varying times, signs on our bedroom doors that said “KEEP OUT – Michael, this means you!”  He had a talent for breaking things, especially my things.  If he managed to worm his way into my room, he invariably picked up something that was sitting on my dresser and started “messing with it”.  The moment I saw him pick up my stuff, I started yelling at him to put it down.  It usually went something like this:

“Michael, put that down. You’re going to break it.”
“I am not.  I’m just looking at it!”
“You look with your eyes, not your hands.”
“I’m not going to hurt it.  I just want to see it.”
“Put it down NOW or I’m going to tell Mom.”
“Go ahead and tell.  I haven’t done anything.”
“MICHAEL!  Put it down!!!”  

At that point, I generally grabbed for the item, trying to rescue it from certain breakage.  I’m sure you can envision the altercation – me grabbing, him pulling it out of my reach, me grabbing more, usually trying to subdue him and rescue my item from his grasp while yelling at him… finally culminating in him throwing the item at me with a “Fine! Here!  I was just looking at it.”  This scenario was repeated several times a week, often several times a day.  Now you understand the reason for the door signs.  Needless to say, I avoided my brother as much as possible during my teen years.

But a strange thing happened once we all grew up, which none of us girls can explain.  Our brother somehow became cool and fun and all three of us adore him.  We can’t seem to get enough of him.  He and I became very close, talking on the phone several times a week.  He lived in Spokane for about 5 years, so we saw each other a lot.  He actually became kind of wise!  I found myself going to him for advice on more than one occasion.  I am still not sure how that happened.  Maybe credit should go to his wife.  She is amazing, and how she puts up with his antics on a daily basis is beyond me.  She deserves a medal – or a special place in Heaven.  You see, Michael, despite his intelligence, wisdom, and age (he’ll be 50 next year), is still very much that annoying, aggravating kid a lot of the time.  He is zany, spontaneous, witty (a talent I sorely lack but that he has in spades), and unabashedly outspoken.  Did I mention, I adore him?
He has three great kids; the two boys miniature Michaels.  At ages 13 and 9, they already share his sense of humor and wit.  I hate them.  Talking to them on the phone is an adventure in hilarity.  His daughter is a typical teen, totally into fashion, friends, and fun.  So…why all this about Michael?  He is coming to visit!!!!  I haven’t seen them for almost four years, so I am really excited.  They will be here tomorrow, so I will be taking the day off to spend it with them.  They are on a whirlwind tour, visiting friends in Spokane, as well as me and my family, during their kids’ Spring Break from school.  Did I mention I am really excited? I’ve spent two days cleaning my house in preparation for their visit.  I adore my brother!  Now, if only my sisters could be here too…..

Oh… big  news… Edy is cancer free!!!  Check out her blog (link to the left – Hodgepodge).  God is so awesome!!!

Today is a great day.

The perfect morning

As I've mentioned before, I am not exactly a morning person. I've been forced to become one because of my husband's work schedule, dragging myself from slumber at 4:30 a.m. weekdays. Though I'm up, I don't like to interact with anyone for at least half an hour, maybe an hour. I just need time to wake up. There is one exception. I love it when Jonathan is home and he gets up when I do. He is the only person I don't mind talking to in the mornings. I don't know why that is. Maybe it's because he's pretty chatty in the mornings when he gets up, though his chattiness is generally directed at cajoling me into making breakfast for him. This morning it was cheesy hash browns. He absolutely loves hash browns. I think if he could figure out how to arrange it, he'd have hash browns every day of his life. He had talked me into buying these Ore-Ida frozen cheesy hash browns for him when we were at the grocery store last weekend. He didn't know how to make them, so actually set his alarm to get up with me so I could make them for him. I pointed out the location of the directions on the package to him and he set about making them himself, with some oversight by me. They looked pretty tasty.

During the course of making his hash browns, while I made his dad's lunch, we chatted about all sorts of things. Now, we are sitting on the sofa watching American Chopper and drinking chai tea. I can't really imagine a more perfect morning. It's a great way to start a day which will include a second, undoubtedly more squishing, mammogram and an ultrasound. There is not much better than just sitting with your kid, hanging out, chatting about random stuff - exept maybe doing that in, say, the UK, as we will be doing in less than 8 weeks!!!!

Oh, and the thyroid seems to be having a postive impact. I've lost 6 pounds in two weeks without changing my diet. This week I have set out on a better eating plan, so I'm excited to see what the effect will be now that it is coupled with the thyroid. Maybe I'll finally have some success at weight loss!

This is a great morning!