Feasts and Family

Thanksgiving was great! We had the whole gang over and enjoyed great (too much) food and each others' company. I got up at 7AM to get the 25+ pound turkey in the oven so we could eat by 1PM. I had yet to make the stuffing, hence my early rising time.

The stuffing is something that changes from year to year, depending upon my mood. For several years I made a rice stuffing, which was always a big hit, but it seemed like everyone wanted the traditional bread stuffing as well, so I often made both. I was younger then. I have spent far too many Thanksgivings cooking all day so have streamlined my efforts over the past few years. I now make just the bread stuffing. What goes into it is what differs each year. This year it was cornbread with apples, dried cranberries, mandarin oranges, water chestnuts, and pecans. It was seasoned with allspice, nutmeg, thyme, poultry seasoning, salt, and pepper. Most of it goes into the bird, but there are those family members who refuse to eat stuffing from the bird, so a separate dish of stuffing that is baked is prepared for them. It was delicious!

The only other things I make are my "famous" mashed yams with marshmallows on top and the gravy. The kids bring the mashed potatoes, vegetables, pies, fruit salad and rolls. Though we've tried to make more realistic amounts of everything, we always end up with way too much food. It's crazy. This year's turkey was picture perfect - straight out of a magazine. It was in the oven by 8:30AM and ready by 12:30PM.

Here's a great shot of three of the four grandkids enjoying their feast. They are from left to right, Alyssa (2), Tyler (3 1/2), and Olivia (6). Grandpa is behind them.

The weather was gorgeous - sunny, crisp, and clear. We have so much to be thankful for! The Lord has truly blessed us. The only thing missing was my brother and his family. He has come for Thanksgiving for almost as long as I can remember. Unfortunately, he now lives too far away to visit for the holiday. We really missed his presence. I hope you all had a wonderful holiday surrounded by those you love.

Ali loves Jonathan

I've mentioned our cat, Ali, several times. Ali is Jonathan's cat. She adores him - and misses him horribly when he's not here. When he is home, wherever he is, she is. Case in point - he fell asleep on the couch the first day he was home for the holiday. I walked into the living room to find him dozing on the couch with Ali dozing right above him. I had to capture this moment.

Last week Jonathan gave me a pair of his jeans to mend for him. They were sitting on the couch waiting for me to get to them. I was sitting on the sofa reading when I looked up and noticed Ali snuggled up on Jonathan's jeans, as if simply being on something of his, something with his scent, made her feel close to him.

I don't know if you can see the "casts" on her legs or not. She started scratching herself silly late this summer. Apparently she has some allergy to some mites. She got several injections to kill the mites, but she kept scratching at the scabbed up wounds. Finally, as a last resort, the vet bandaged her back legs to keep her from scratching herself until the wounds heal. It has worked great and she will get the "casts" off tomorrow. If she starts scratching again, the only solution will be to declaw her back feet - something we really don't want to do. We're hoping she'll forget she ever itched on her neck!

Well, it's time to get ready for work. After a week off, it is going to be tough getting back into the groove again. At least it's sunny! :)

Thanksgiving break

Tom and I both have this week off so I won't be posting much, if at all. Just wanted to say Happy Thanksgiving to everyone. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday full of the reminders of those things for which we should be and are thankful every single day.

Blessings to you all!

Whose body is this, anyway?

I am, without equivocation, in the worst shape of my life. I am heavier than I've ever been, with the exception of when I was pregnant. I walk by the full length mirror in my bathroom and avert my eyes, not wanting to admit that the body passing in front of them is mine. When did this happen? When did my body become my grandmother's? This is sad. Until about three years ago, I was much fitter than the average woman my age. I worked out 5 to 6 days a week lifting weights and doing cardio. I watched my diet most of the time and maintained the same weight for the past 10 or so years. I've been a size 7/8 or 9/10 for most of my life. The 7/8 was harder to maintain and I usually found myself reverting to a 9/10 each winter. But the difference in weight between those two sizes for me was just 10 pounds, an amount I could usually drop fairly easily with just a little extra effort. Now I'm finding myself pulling 12's off the rack and it is not a good thing.

So, how did this change come about? I started working two jobs. The library went through a very tough stretch financially and wages were frozen. Not only that, but we were laid off for two weeks one year. The outlook was grim so I knew if I wanted to improve my income level, I had to take on another job. I found I was spending 9 hours a day at work most days, meaning I was putting in 45 hours a week and only getting paid for 40, so I decided to go to 4 ten-hour days at the library, freeing that fifth day to work for a company in town as their network administrator. I was now going to get paid for all the hours I worked. The only problem was, working from 8AM to 6PM every day made getting to the gym a lot harder. By the time my husband left for work and I got my stuff together for the day, I was lucky to get to the gym by 7AM. That left one hour to workout, shower, dress and drive to work. A few weeks of attempting to conform to this schedule left me frustrated and exhausted. I often went back to bed after my husband left for work instead of hitting the gym. Week after week, month after month, the pounds crept up on me. Suddenly I was 20 pounds heavier. I'm lucky - I'm 5' 10" so 20 pounds doesn't look nearly as bad as it would if I were only 5' 4", but it still showed. I started watching my diet carefully and dropped ten pounds, but it was short-lived. The stress of working two jobs and now being on call at two places 12+ hours a day, 7 days a week, made sticking to my diet almost impossible. Back came the ten pounds. It wasn't that bad at first, but the missed workouts have resulted in a radical change in body composition. I have lost a lot of muscle and gained at least as much fat. It's not a pretty picture, especially naked in front of that full length mirror. I'm sure there are a lot of people who would say I look just fine, might find the more voluptuous me more attractive than the thinner me, but that's with clothes on. I get to see the naked version, the pooch in the lower abdomen where there once existed an enviably flat tummy, the cellulite in places I never knew could have cellulite, the double chin if I hold my head just right, the dreaded roll when I put on certain pairs of jeans. It's not a pretty picture.

I could blame genetics. My paternal grandmother (now deceased) and aunt have beautiful, Rubenesque figures. They're Italian, for crying out loud. Neither is what I would call fat. They have hourglass figures. Aunt Enis, for as long as I can recall, has had a voluptuous, Sophia Loren and Gina Lollabrigida figure. Grandma was always busty, even as a young woman. Neither ever had fat bellies. They are not your apple shape, nor pear shaped. They both have broad shoulders, strong thighs, strong backs, and lots of curves. I think I've inherited their shapes, only in a taller package. Grandma was fairly short - maybe 5'3" or 5'4". Aunt Enis is probably 5'5" or 5'6". My youngest sister is built very much like both of them, only much thinner - so far.

I have no idea what my genetics on my mom's side of the family are. My mom died a month after her 40th birthday. Her mother died 5 days before I was born . She was in her 40's as well (both deaths were self-inflicted, sadly). My mom only had brothers, one of whom is still living. He and I do share the same build in our legs and gluteus maximus - and that is not a good thing for either of us. I know my mom struggled with her weight a bit in her mid-30's, but she stayed pretty much the same weight most of her adult life and she was pretty average. She was 5'6" and had a nice, proportionate figure. I find myself wondering if Mom would have gained weight and struggled with losing it once she hit her late 40's and early 50's. She was never one to exercise - she loathed exercise in most any form. I don't loathe it, but unless it's exercise via a sport I like, like golf, I am not thrilled about it most of the time. I view it as a necessary evil. I used to enjoy running, but my knees didn't. I really need to have a bunch of crunchy cartilage removed from both knees, and doing so would likely allow me to run again, but the expense involved in doing so is not something I'm willing to undertake just now. Knowing me, I'll have to find myself unable to walk or get out of a chair before I'll have surgery. Because of my knees, I can't do lunges or leg presses at the gym. I do miss doing those exercises. Lunges are arguably the best leg and butt shapers you can do. I used to do 4 sets of 8 reps of lunges with 185 pounds on my shoulders. That's probably part of the reason my knees are such a mess. But my butt was tiny then, and my thighs were strong and lean.

So, the question is, what will it take to motivate me to go back to the gym regularly and really start eating better (especially when it comes to portion control)? Do I have to go up another size before I do something? Do I have to have some health scare? I hope not. I tell myself every day "okay, today I'm going to go workout" and then I find some other activity to occupy my time, like blogging. Time to stop doing that. I need a workout partner. The times I've been the most consistent, the most successful in the gym and diet areas, are when I've had workout partners that are counting on me to be there, that are holding me accountable. I need to make that happen again. Doing so may entail me switching gyms. The one I go to has a total of 6 people who workout in the mornings and 5 of them are guys. My best friend is the 6th person, but she and I can't workout together. She's 5'3" and I'm 5'10" and I'm a lot stronger than she is. We spend half our workout switching weights and equipment positions. It's just too frustrating and time consuming. No, I need to find someone who will MAKE me workout, and workout hard. That is my goal for the coming weeks. Find a partner, get to the gym regularly, start taking care of Gina. I don't like this hourglass figure. I'd much rather have my long, lean, strong body back.

Writer's block or lack of talent?

Why is it that, despite a burning desire to write something - a short story, novel, something - I can't ever manage to do it. I start - and stop. I think about it almost constantly, writing little paragraphs in my mind, creating characters, developing scenes, but I never seem to actually get them down on paper - or in my case, onto the hard drive. What is wrong with me? Do real authors struggle like this? Even my blog becomes a source of frustration at times. I don't want to post just random thoughts like so many bloggers do, treating the blog more like a diary than something into which you put at least some thought. Knowing it may/will be read by someone with an education, someone who will spot grammatical errors, misspellings, typos, pushes me to at least attempt to put something of value into my blog. I am not always successful, but I do try. It would be fairly easy to just journal - recap my days, my frustrations, pour out my thoughts - but I want this blog to be something more than a journal. I would like it to be entertaining, informative, interesting to read, insightful, and a host of other adjectives. For example, I really enjoy reading Nathan's blog. Part of the enjoyment is derived from the fact that he's my son's roommate at college and I get a different perspective on what is going on in their lives via Nathan, but part of the enjoyment comes from the fact that he is a very talented writer. His writing is fun to read, even when he's simply relating the events of the week. I was blown away by his initial entry in the NaNoWriMo contest. He hasn't added to it, due to college demands, I'm sure, but what he did post was really well done! I kept asking myself if I am capable of that kind of writing. I'm not sure I am. I do well when it comes to expository writing. I do okay in the poetry department. Yet the thing I long to do, write creatively, is the area in which I feel the weakest. Perhaps I'm being overly self-critical. I suppose that's better than being overly impressed with myself, but maybe not. Perhaps my self-criticism paralyzes me and keeps me from achieving my goal. More likely, it's fear of failure, criticism, and rejection that keeps me from pursuing my dream. Who wants to finally take the chance, pour their energy into creating something, only to find out they are as terrible as they've suspected? I think that is my problem.

I used to think I was smart - and talented. But lately I've begun to suspect I'm just pretty good at a lot of things, just not amazingly good at any one thing. I'm pretty good in math, I'm pretty good with computers, I'm a pretty good photographer, I'm a pretty good writer, I'm a pretty good cook, but I'm not great at anything. I am the epitome of the "Jack of all trades, master of none". I get that from my dad.

Growing up, Dad was always changing jobs. Not because he lost them, he just got bored and found something that interested him more. As a result, we moved every year from first grade through 7th grade. As a kid, I didn't care. It was fun - new city, new house, new school. I have this gregarious nature so making new friends was exciting to me. It became so normal to move that, when we finally settled down in one spot, it was weird. I remember my parents frequently discussing moving somewhere new. I'd get excited, start imagining my life in the new location (once, that location was Australia!), only to have them decide to stay put. How boring. This went on for five years, until my parents divorced and Dad did move again - to Oregon. My mom stayed in the same house for another five years until she died. Dad kept up his rambling ways for another 7 years, moving to various places in Oregon before finally settling in Montana. He has actually lived in the same house for 26 years now. He must have outgrown the wanderlust. After my mom died, I took up where Dad left off. I moved from Southern California to the Bay Area for a year, then to Texas (ugh) for 7 months, then to Colorado for 3 years, and finally to Idaho. I must have grown up - or something - along the way. I have lived in the same home for 20 years and the same town for 22 years!

But back to my "mediocrity". Not only did Dad have a penchant for changing jobs, his hobbies were even more varied and ever-changing. The surprising thing was, he was darned good at everything he did. He has always been an avid hunter and seemed to always fill his tags for as long as I can remember. He's quite a marksman. He taught all four of us kids to shoot at a very young age. I still love target shooting. He is a competitve trapshooter. I remember when it was a big deal when he got 25 in a row, then 50 in a row, then 100. Pretty soon, he pretty much never missed. He'd bring home turkeys and hams that he'd won in competitions. He was the guy to beat. We kids were his reloading slaves. One bedroom was turned into a reloading room and we took turns loading his shells for him for what seemed like hours. It was probably only an hour or two a week, but it seemed like a full-time job.

Then he got into CB radio. This was back before every Tom, Dick and Harry was a CB'er. He had all the latest equipment, high power amplifiers, huge antennas, stuff that let him talk to guys all over the world. We'd listen every night to him talking to people in Germany, Australia, the other side of the US. It was so cool - and so illegal. CB radio is supposed to have a very limited broadcast radius. Using more powerful amps and high gain antennas was against FCC rules. So, all the guys in the CB "club" would talk like mad (much the way we all IM nowadays) until word got out that "Uncle Charlie" was in town. That was the code word for the FCC. Suddenly, the airwaves would "go dark". No one would broadcast for fear Uncle Charlie would find their signal, pay them a visit, and sieze their equipment. Uncle Charlie would leave town and the chatting would resume. The part about his CB hobby I liked the best were the "rabbit hunts". All the guys in the "club" would pack their families into their station wagons at night and meet at some predetermined location. Of course, these station wagons were equipped with CB radios with high-powered amps. One family would be selected as the "rabbit". They would then drive off to hide somewhere in town. There was no limit as to how far they could go to hide, but the amount of time before the "hunters" came looking for them imposed some limitations. Once the rabbit was hidden, he would radio the gang that he was ready. From that point on he had to broadcast non-stop until he was found by the hunters. The hunters drove around using range finder antennas to home in on the signal from the rabbit. The rabbit would often hide behind a metal building that would bounce their signal around, making it harder to locate them. They also tried to find a spot that gave them a clear view of anyone coming toward them so they could escape before being spotted. That was legal - as the rabbit, you could move if you saw a hunter coming before he spotted you. I remember sitting in the car as the rabbit, Dad broadcasting away, seeing a car coming toward us and Dad saying "oh, I may have been found. Blink your lights, blink your lights." I can just imagine "hunters" all over the area blinking their headlights. Of course, the car coming toward us was blinking its lights like mad but Dad would say "oh, no, false alarm, just a passing car" trying to throw the hunter off the scent. It usually worked, and as soon as it was safe, we'd zoom off to a different hiding place. As the hunter, I remember Dad driving and holding the antenna out the window, turning it from side to side as I watched the signal strength indicator. I'd shout "yeah, that way, that way! No, no, it's weaker now. Okay, yeah, that way!" These hunts went on for hours and were one of most fun things we did as a family.

Another hobby of Dad's was scuba diving. He'd go diving and bring back tons of abalone and other "treasure". After that, he got his pilot's license and competed in various flying competitions like dropping a bag of flour onto a target below or doing some stunt stuff. Then he raced sports cars. He started off autocrossing his Jaguar XKE and usually won his events. Then he got an Austin Healy Sprite and raced that in production class races at various tracks in Southern California. He was an excellent driver! Had he had more money for a car and maintenance on it, he could probably have made a living racing cars eventually. It was an expensive hobby and he had to eventually give it up. He became a cop after he moved to Oregon and his driving skills improved even more. He even went to Bob Bondurant's driving school in California at one point.

Dad also took up photography and one of his photos was turned into a postcard by some big company. He became a hair stylist when I was in 6th grade and won tons of awards at hair shows for his styles. He worked for Vidal Sassoon way back when. He took a long hiatus from doing hair, became a cop, then returned to hair styling about 15 years ago, eventually opening a shop not far from my home. He retired a few months ago and now spends his time on the computer, or loading shells for his antelope hunting exploits (he spends tons of time loading for optimum trajectory and such), or concocting his amazing barbecue sauce that he sells in the area, or planting and harvesting his garden, or welding some crazy invention in his shop, or reading up on the latest gizmo that he's purchased, or reading the latest Tom Clancy novel. He's still a jack-of-all-trades, still interested in everything under the sun and willing to attempt almost anything. Growing up, I'd be having a conversation with friends about something and I'd interject "my dad does that" or "yeah, my dad won a trophy in that". After a few of these conversations they'd look at me and say "yeah, right, your dad does everything. You are such a liar!" They found it hard to believe one person could have accomplished all the things my dad had, and can you blame them?

So, I come by my eclectic interests honestly. I sometimes wonder if Dad is ADD and maybe that accounts for his "scattered" interests. Maybe I am too, to some degree. Then again, maybe we're just people who are keenly interested in everything around us and just can't find a way to pack everything we want to do and learn about into one lifetime, so we try do as much as we can, even though that may mean never being the best at anything, but being pretty good at what we do do. Who knows? I do know that my siblings share my frustrations to some degree. My brother is very much like I am. My two sisters are a little less so, but they too share the curse of having widely varied interests. Obviously it's genetic. Maybe we're a perfect composite of our mom and dad, two very different, very intelligent individuals who were very good at a lot of things, not necessarily outstanding at just one thing. I know my mom was a very frustrated writer and artist. Dad has the whole techno-geek thing going on and is excellent at math. I think I have half of each of their brains and they compete for dominance, making me a very frustrated person much of the time.

So, that's my excuse for not being a successful author yet. It is an excuse, I know. I just need to focus long enough, work hard enough on one thing, and I could write that book that's churning inside me. Maybe when I retire.... :)

Vintage music

I read the blogs of a lot of "kids" - people my son's age - and they almost always mention whatever music they are currently listening to. Despite my "over-the-hill" status, I do like a lot of the music they like. But every now and then I get a "hankering" for some vintage music. I got sucked into the BMG music club - you know, buy one CD, get 12 free - and for the first time in years, I have been buying CDs. I bought some current stuff - Matchbox Twenty, Norah Jones, Josh Groban, Three Doors Down, Sum 41 - but this last batch was comprised of some albums from my college days. I just got Don't Shoot Me I'm Only the Piano Player by Elton John and have so been enjoying singing along to every track on the CD. Wow, what memories! I also got the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack. My girlfriend and I went to lunch the other day and I played that CD. She and I both were just rocking out to Stayin' Alive. Kids do not appreciate that music. The memories that come pouring in... songs can take you back so vividly it's amazing. I remember the parties I threw when I was in college living in married student housing. We had a truly magnificent stereo system with top-of-the-line KLH speakers, a Philips straight-arm turntable, a super expensive cartridge on the turntable, top notch amp and preamp... it was excellent equipment. We'd play our albums once and copy them to tape, then carefully put them away so they didn't get scratched. I was a huge Elton John fan then and DSMIOTPP was a big hit in the early 70's. We played that tape dozens of times. It was especially good dance music and we did a lot of dancing at my parties. Yeah, those were the days - Elton John, Chicago, Cat Stevens, Loggins & Messina, James Taylor, Doobie Brothers, Steely Dan.... good music, good dancing. Cat Stevens should go back to being Cat Stevens. Ah, the memories. Even more vintage is the music my dad played when I was growing up. I bought some of that too - Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, the classics. I have my CD player in the car loaded with Elton John (DSMIOTPP & Love Songs), Rod Stewart's Great American Songbook: Volume II, Norah Jones Come Away with Me, The Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack, and Los Lonely Boys, who I love, by the way! The house CD player had Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, Matchbox Twenty, John Mayer, Three Doors Down, and Harry Connick, Jr. Eclectic, eh?

Movies, movies, movies

It seems the theaters are filled with movies I want to see. Why does that happen? When I have time to see movies, there's not a darned thing showing I care to see. When I have zero time to go to the movies, practically every screen is playing something I can't wait to see. We did manage to take in a movie weekend before last. We saw "The Incredibles" (we being my husband, Jonathan, and myself) and thoroughly enjoyed it. I get a kick out of animated films that you have to be an adult to really appreciate. I remember back when The Flintstones first aired on TV. We wanted to stay up and watch the show but my parents told us it was a grown-up cartoon. I remember sneaking down the hall, peering over the sofa from about 8 feet behind it, trying to see the TV and this "grown-up cartoon". I could only imagine what sort of [to my mind] x-rated stuff this cartoon depicted that made it unsuitable for children. My efforts to actually see the TV were futile since my parents' heads made better doors than windows. I would just lay on the floor in the hallway and listen to the show. Of course, it made no sense to me whatsoever in that context, but hey, it was a grown-up cartoon and I was at least listening to it!

Back to The Incredibles. It is definitely not a kid cartoon. It has kids and their mom being shot down by bad buys, bad guys trying to kill them, and various other forms of mayhem that children could have a tough time with. The humor, the obvious parodying of the Bond films, the set designs, all point to an animated film that is directed at adults, not kids. It is a fun flick that I'll likely see again. One of my all-time favorite animated films is Shrek. I had not yet seen Shrek 2 so picked it up at Wal-Mart this past weekend. What a hoot! I love the Shrek franchise! We three watched it Saturday night, although Jonathan fell asleep not far into it (doesn't college life consist of primarily sleeping and eating?) so he took it back to school with him to watch when he's more wide awake, say 2:00 or 3:00 AM some school night. I am also a big fan of Finding Nemo, especially Dori. Ellen DeGeneres does a terrific job with that little fish. Great movie.

I have heard Ray is amazing. I am a big fan of Ray Charles anyway, so a bio-pic about him is right up my alley. Friday Night Lights, Shark Tale, Alfie, and Polar Express still await my viewing. I read an article about how Polar Express was made. It is amazing the work that went into its production - and the money. Jonathan saw it and said it was good. I am looking forward to seeing it. But, the way things go, every one of these flicks will be out of the theaters before I get a chance to see them and I'll be waiting for months for Netflix to have them. Isn't that how it goes?

Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore!

Yesterday's newspaper alerted me to the fact that we had experienced an amazing display of the Northern Lights Sunday night and early Monday morning. It went on to state that we might expect more of the same last night. Here's the accompanying photo from the paper:

By the time I went to bed at 9:30 they were not visible. I awakened at 1:00AM. The light coming in through the slits in the blinds looked strange. I got up, grabbed my glasses, and tiptoed into the living room to peer out the sliding glass door. Sure enough, the Northern Lights were putting on a fantastic show. I've seen the Northern Lights before but they were never as amazing as they were last night. I'll never forget the first time. Jonathan was an infant. I was sitting on the sofa nursing him when my husband drove up after working out. It was probably about 10PM (back when we were young and kept different hours). He said "Gina, come out here right now!" He sounded strange so I put Jonathan down and ran out into the driveway. He said "Look at the sky. What is that?" There was this bright white light just sort of moving around overhead in waves. I'd never seen anything like it before. We stood there just gawking. He said "maybe the Lord is coming back!" We watched for a few minutes and then it dawned on me that maybe it was the Northern Lights. Neither of us had ever seen them before. All we knew was that they were something you saw in Alaska and the Arctic and were colorful. We'd never heard of them down in the lower 48, nor had we ever heard of them being white. It was pretty amazing and somewhat frightening. Imagine what ancient people must have thought of them!

We did find out in the paper that what we had seen was indeed the Northern Lights, though I kind of liked the idea of the Lord returning better. A couple of years later we were driving through Montana in the middle of the night on vacation headed to Colorado and were treated to an entertaining display of the Northern Lights along the northern horizon for most of the night. Again, they were just white, but they danced and played along the horizon, entertaining us as we trekked along Interstate 90.

Last night the entire sky, from western to eastern horizon, was filled with white dancing lights. The intensity would change from dim to brilliant, as if someone were holding a spotlight and pointing it at Orion, then the light would move, as if being blown by the wind - and it was extremely windy last night. There were bands of this light waving and undulating, dimming and brightening, all across the sky. Fingers of light would reach up from the horizon, shoot straight up overhead, then dim and disappear. When I watched it the light was only white, but a coworker told me that earlier, at about 11PM, it was green and red. If you've never seen them, they are a sight to see. They're nothing like the photos we've all seen from Alaska, but they are no less awesome in their brilliant white splendor. I do think when the Lord returns the sky will be filled with a display that will put the Alaskan Northern Lights to shame. He's just treating us to a glimpse of His glory in the meantime.

The Day After Tomorrow

Well, how psychic of me to predict that half the voters would be happy, half unhappy since the outcome was 51%/48%. Gee, that was a tough call. I am one of the happy voters. My coworkers, on the other hand, were quite grumpy yesterday. Some were even angry. As one of only 3 or 4 conservatives of the 40 employees, I was in an unenviable position. Fortunately, I was consumed with writing a report for the Board yesterday so stayed cloistered in my office most of the day.

The day started off uniquely. My Audi was ready to be picked up from the body shop in Spokane so I rode with my husband to the FedEx station in Coeur d'Alene. It was actually nice to spend that hour with him. We talked about all sorts of stuff we don't usually have time to talk about. We decided that now that Jonathan has gone off to college we really need to spend time together as a couple, not just as parents and grandparents, which has consumed the past 25 years of our lives. We're going to try to go on a "date" one night each weekend. Since we have so little time during the week - maybe an hour each night - after he gets home from work until bedtime, the weekends are usually filled with all the chores we haven't managed to get done all week. Then we visit Jonathan, see the older kids and grandkids, and so on. It's been really hectic, especially since we have three aspen trees that have yet to divest themselves of their leaves. Each day they drop a few thousand leaves onto the lawn and yet they clearly have several million left to deposit. When will it end? Last weekend the yard was leaf free and beautiful. Monday brought a heavy frost. The front lawn was again a carpet of aspen leaves, to Tom's chagrin. He had even mowed our neighbor's front yard (they were out of town) in an effort to keep the maple leaves covering their lawn from blowing into our yard. It too was covered in another round of leaves Monday morning. The mower and leaf blower/vac will get another workout Saturday. But the plan is, after the chores, after the leaf cleanup, we will head to Spokane to visit Jonathan, then take in a movie and dinner, just the two of us. I don't even remember when we did that last. It should be fun.

Oh, back to yesterday - the Audi was ready. I rode to CdA with Tom where I was picked up by our oldest son, Tom Jr. He lives in Spokane, about 25 minutes from the FedEx station in CdA. He drove me to the body shop where I learned my car was not quite ready. We were having 3M's "Invisi-shield" applied to the front fenders to help protect them from rock chips (we already have it all over the front end of the car, a sort of invisible bra), and it wasn't done yet. So, I rode to Tom's office, did some work remotely (I love technology!), and waited for the delivery of my car. It was nice to visit with Tom. We talked about the election and how happy we were with its outcome. At 10AM Gary Larson of Precision Collision delivered my car. It looks perfect! He's amazing. The best news was that he asked me to do a website for his company in exchange for the work he did on my car! Yippee! I had been teasing him about not having a website, but I didn't think he was ready to do one yet. That will be my next project. Since I am so impressed with them, their integrity, and their work, doing their site will be a piece of cake.

So, I got my car, had to stop by Appleway Audi to have the headlights readjusted and synched with the computer (one headlight had to be loosened during the body work), was told that my salesman had quit last week - a huge shock since he has worked there for 5 years and has sold us 5 cars - and then headed back to Sandpoint and work. I got to work by 12:30 and jumped right on my report to the Board, spending the rest of the day on that project. Today I must finalize it. Hopefully, the information will be sufficient for the Board to make a decision to allow us to go ahead with the purchase of our replacement computers. Every day that goes by I move that much closer to having to rebuild yet another computer whose demise is imminent. I am beginning to think I should just rebuild every PC in the place and be done with it, removing those that really are in failing health, upgrading the RAM on those that must remain in action for the next two years, and leaving gaping holes where we have no equipment that can do the job. I have yet to decide how to tackle that project.

I'm thinking of doing NaNoWriMo. It's already 4 days into it, but I think I should do it. I have always wanted to write a novel. What a perfect opportunity to try it. I'm pondering it. Jonathan's roommate, Nathan, has begun his and it's quite good. Speaking of Nathan, check out his blog for two measly photos of their dorm room rearrangement. I've chastised him for not putting up more pix. Perhaps he will do so. If not, I'll take my camera and shoot pix myself. Kids. ;)

Election Day

Today dawned wet and dreary. I hope this is not indicative of the outcome of today's election. Well, I suppose half the electorate will say it is and half will say it is not, regardless of the outcome, since this country seems to be pretty well split down the middle politically this year. I voted bright and early this morning and, even in our small town and at my teensy polling place, they had lines before they opened for the first time ever. I'm worried. I wonder how long it will take to finalize the vote this year. Regardless of the outcome there are bound to be doubts as to the validity of the vote. There seem to be even more problems this year than in 2000. I don't get it. We shake our heads at third world countries with all their election fraud and yet, are we really any better? Why is it so hard to make sure that the person voting is entitled to vote, is the person they say they are, and that they haven't already voted? In Idaho you don't have to show any ID. Maybe that's just here in Bonner County, but I just pointed to my name on the list, signed it, got my ballot and voted. No ID. My coworker got an absentee ballot application for her bedridden husband, took it to him to fill out, and returned it for him. She didn't show any ID, no one witnessed to make sure HE voted, and no one asked her for any proof of anything. How easy would THAT be to defraud? In Idaho you can vote absentee up to the day before the election. You don't have to have a reason, you just go vote. I remember in California - maybe it has changed - you had to have a reason to vote absentee, like you weren't going to be in town, and proof of that reason. You couldn't just randomly vote absentee because you didn't want to go to the polls. Now, I am fine with the way we do it here, so long as it's documented. What struck me was that my son's name was listed on the rolls under mine where anyone could have claimed to be him and voted in his stead, and he'd voted absentee yesterday. So, what would happen if someone did come in and pretend to be him? Would they throw out his absentee ballot? They couldn't toss the phony ballot could they? How would they know which one it was? Now that is a problem.

Why don't we have a national database of registered voters using our SSN? You would have to produce photo ID to vote, you could vote anywhere in the country - no need for absentee ballots in most cases - and you would get marked off immediately via computer so you couldn't vote twice. Why is that so hard? Your vote would count for whatever state you lived in regardless of where you voted. Seems pretty simple. This whole issue needs some serious work.

Go vote!

What a week!

I'm glad this one is nearly over. It started out okay - until I got to work Monday. I was faced with an epidemic of computers suddenly suffering strokes, heart attacks, and various other maladies. It was as if they had all suddenly decided it was time to retire and head for the old PC's home. Granted, the majority are nearing 5 years old, with some actually almost 7 years old - ancient in PC years. Since we purchased 55 at the same time, and most all are in constant use nearly 12 hours a day, 6 days a week, it comes as no surprise that they are suffering the same fate we humans do when we reach old age. They creak and groan when they are asked to move quickly, they are slow to get going after a nap, they have frequent lapses in memory, and some days they simply won't get out of bed. Monday I had to rebuild two of our most popular public access PCs. They simply went berserk. These two were given to us through the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundaton's Library Program. They have been reliable machines despite their heavy use. The only downside to them was that they were still running Windows NT and we have moved to Windows 2000 and XP. As a result, I could not manage them from my desk as I do the others, and they did not communicate with our servers in quite the same way. Upgrading them to Win2K was an option, but making all the Gates software available and still taking advantage of the strict security profiles the Gates Foundation created is an ordeal, so I was not ready to do that yet. That all changed on Monday. They simply would not work properly. Then, they wouldn't work at all. Time to rebuild. They both now run Win2K and integrate perfectly with my network, but the Gates software is not yet available. I have not had time to make that happen yet. Since they are primarily used for the internet and word processing, the other software is not that big a deal (Encarta, Streets & Maps, and a couple other programs). Those two rebuilds took most of my day.

Then came Tuesday. I started getting reports of super slow computers at the public access stations. Two computers simply stop going anywhere, not quite freezing up, but moving so slowly they seem to be frozen. It appears the anti-virus is slowing them down as it attempts to update. Turns out these machines have a meager 64MB RAM, a BIOS that needs updating, and are just getting tired. I upgrade the RAM on one since the other one seems to be in constant use. I get the anti-virus updated and running as it should, and things seem to be moving along fine for now. I start checking the logs of the anti-virus distribution server and notice that three of my public computers and two staff computers are infested with spyware. No wonder they're running so slowly! Spybot Search & Destroy v. 1.3 t the rescue. This stuff is the best - and it's free (you can donate if you like). Despite my security measures, and due to a temporary change in security settings, three public computers did have spyware on them. I have far less strict security on our staff workstations (that is going to change this week). Some of our staff like to visit web sites that are notorious for spyware - like astrology sites, shopping sites, and "free stuff" sites. Two staff computers were so filled with spyware it took me four runnings of Spybot to clean them completely. I have banned the offending web sites from being accessed, but that doesn't mean the problem will end. I loathe spyware (don't we all). So, that was Tuesday. Oh, and that was the day my husband got the chip/dent in our Audi. And Tuesday afternoon my son tells me he has another paper due on Thursday that he needs me to edit for him. That's not a big deal, except in order to really evaluate his writing, I kind of have to know what he's doing his essay on, which means reading the book or papers or whatever. Fortunately, this one was on a very short book, more of a devotional really, by John Calvin, pretty much the "father of the Reformation." I enjoyed the book immensely. It did actually make me stop to consider my behavior as a Christian - something that could use a lot of work. I'm glad I read it. It also led me to look into the whole idea of predestination. I found some awesome websites with great insight into the doctrine. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around the doctrine and decide how I feel about it. That has been the sort of bright spot in my week.

Wednesday did not start off well. First, my dad calls with computer problems. His computer is stuck at the screen that says "updating DMI pool" or something like that. Apparently it had been working fine. My mom was playing solitaire, went to show Dad an email, and it screeched to a halt. Dad did what most people would do, sadly, and hit the reset button. That's when it got stuck. He called me. Not seeing the computer (he lives in Montana, 60 miles from me), I could only guess what might be the problem. I thought maybe it just needed to reset the BIOS, so I had him go into setup and we tried a few things. Nothing. After 20 minutes on the phone I realized I'd have to have the offending box in my office. He would bring it to me Thursday. Then the library attorney calls. He has been trying for two weeks now to reinstall Windows 95 on his 7 year old PC that he decided to rebuild. He's had all sorts of problems, the main one being that he can't get his system to recognize his CD after he boots to the Win95 setup floppy. Unfortunately, he had replaced the CD since the computer was made and since he had made his recovery disk, so he had the wrong drivers. He wanted to put XP on it. After he read me the system specs I informed him XP would not run on it. I told him to bring it to me and I'd fix it for him - or he could buy a new Dell since, at 7 years old, he was running on borrowed time. I'm not sure yet which option he has chosen. Guess I'll know if I see him next week, PC under one arm, heading for my office. Then, my best friend's husband calls. He can't get his computer online when his anti-virus is enabled. He keeps getting some popup when he tries to connect. I finally realize the anti-virus firewall service is just asking him if the proxy client his ISP requires him to run is an okay program to allow to connect to the internet. Once we get to that - about 20 minutes into the call - I tell him to say "yes" and he connects. Then it's back downstairs to work on our filtered computers. I have built a new profile that loads faster than the old one, but in order to use it, I have to uninstall Office 2000 and install Office 2003 on each machine. The rest of the day, until 7:30 that night, is spent working on that. Intermingled with those projects, I am receiving drafts of my son's paper from him, making editorial comments and suggestions, sending them back for him to rewrite, send back to me for review, and so on. We finally finish that at about 7:00. He has to go get ready for the haunted house his dorm puts on every year. I finish up and go home, tired and aggravated.

Thursday morning I am accosted as I walk in the staff entrance. "Gina, I need your help with my computer. It won't do anything." I haven't even made it to my desk to drop off my purse or lunch yet. I sit down, start on her computer, and find that it too is infested with spyware. I'm going to have to implement some serious security restrictions on our staff profiles in order to stem this flow of spyware. It's getting ridiculous. That project took me an hour. I am no sooner walking upstairs to my office when I am told my folks are here. I greet them, take the offending PC from my dad, and head to the "hospital." I boot up the PC, jump into the BIOS, figuring I will find the ECD reset that he could not. Nope, it does not exist. Weird. So, I let it try to boot... yep, stuck at the "updating DMI pool" screen. Then Dad tells me something he didn't mention before. He had at some point changed the boot options form "C only" to "CDROM, C, floppy". After he did that, he got an error saying there was no CD in the drive from which to boot. Okay, so the DMI pool is updating but, for some reason, it won't boot and won't throw a hard drive error, no boot device present error, or something like that. Hmmmm. I put my XP CD in the drive and let it boot to XP. When I go into the recovery console I get a C prompt. I try to do a dir and get an error saying "can't enumerate directory" or something along those lines. Hmmmm. So, then I boot to the CD again and act as if I'm going to reinstall XP. I get to the screen that shows your hard drive and existing partition. Usually it will show the Windows folder and tell you an installation already exists, do you want to overwrite it. Or it will show you the drive and partition size, format, etc. This time it shows the drive as C but the partition as "partition unknown". Gulp. My folks are looking at the screen, then at me. I must have had a scared look on my face because they both asked "what does that mean?" I started to ask if they had important stuff on their computer, but stopped. I knew they did. Gulp. I told them to leave and come back after they'd run their errands and I'd figure out how to fix it. Trustingly, they did just that. Fortunately, my initial panic subsided and cooler heads prevailed. I realized this was likely just a corruption of the MBR (master boot record) and XP has utilities to repair that sort of thing. I rebooted into the console, switched to the CD drive, and ran fixboot c:. Quicker than you can say "Microsoft" it was repaired. I booted the computer, logged on, and began cleaning out more spyware than you can imagine.

My dad has a penchant for "free" "cool" software. Of course, almost nothing is free. The price is spyware. When my folks returned to see their computer humming along, a look of relief crossed both their faces. Then I gave Dad my sternest warning: "No more free stuff, Dad. Do not download anything unless I say it's okay!" I was in the midst of cleaning off all the old "free" programs he had installed, cleaning the registry, and dumping temporary files so I showed him what a mess he had made. He gets it now. He called me this morning to tell me he ran Disk Cleanup and freed up another 1GB hard drive space. He's a happy camper.

Then my uncle from California called. His computer is giving him the dreaded BSOD with an IRQL_NOT_LESS_OR_EQUAL error. I walk him through starting in safe mode and doing a system restore. Still won't work. We go back even farther. Nothing. It's a Dell, still under warranty, so I tell him to call them. I don't have time. I have to go downstairs and replace two floppy drives, rebuild another computer, and add more RAM to two.

On a happier note, my son is home from college for fall break. He picked me up from the body shop yesterday afternoon and we met my husband at Chili's in Coeur d'Alene for dinner. We drove home where our cat gleefully met our son at the door after hearing his car in the driveway. She adores him. He was hoping some of his friends from school would accompany him home, but that didn't work out. He's pretty disappointed, but he'll get over it. I'm thinking maybe his roommate, Nathan, might want to come back with us Saturday and go back on Monday with Jonathan. And then again, maybe he likes being in Mac almost by himself. Jonathan wanted Travis to come too, but he also opted to stay in the dorm. I guess a trip to some guy's parents' house isn't very cool - not like going to a ski cabin in Sun Valley or a condo on the beach. I promised both of them I'd cook whatever they like, but that didn't impress either of them. Oh well. At least we get to hang out with Jonathan for a few days. We are going to go over Saturday and help him and Nathan rearrange their dorm room. It's not arranged very efficiently at the moment. They did some measuring and figured out a much better use of their very limited space, so we offered to lend our assistance, which they gladly accepted.

So, maybe it was the full moon, the eclipse, PMS - who knows - but the week has been awful. I'm praying the weekend is much better.

Chipped already!

So, I just got a phone call from my husband. He starts the call by saying "you're not going to believe it..." Immediately I feel a churning in my stomach. You see, he drove the Audi to work today - 45 miles down a two lane highway notorious for frequent accidents, reckless drivers, etc. "What?!" I ask, choking back panic. "The Audi got two dents and three rock chips in the front fender. I'm just sick. Just sick." comes his reply in a voice filled with distress. "Okay, what do you mean dents - how big are they? How big are the chips?" "Big. Big and noticeable." My imagination is running wild. Did a piece of metal fly up and hit the car? A boulder? What? "Okay, how big? The size of a nickel, dime, what?" "Well, the rock chips are about 1/8" in diameter - the biggest one - two smaller ones right behind it, and the dents look like someone took a nail and just tapped it into the fender twice." Okay, so not huge like I was imagining, but chips and dents in our barely a week old car. Disconcerting, but not reason for panic. He has a tendency to overreact. I'll call our favorite body shop, the one that miraculously repaired my BMW when it was t-boned by an idiot driver two years ago, the one that flawlessly repaired a huge door ding in the passenger door of the Beetle when the wind whipped a co-worker's car door into my door two years ago, the one I know will fix this problem perfectly. It's in Spokane, but it's worth the trek. This shop, Precision Collision, owned by Gary Larson, is incredible. Gary is a perfectionist who won't let a vehicle leave his shop unless it is perfectly repaired. I trust him implicitly. He will fix the Audi. The insurance will cover part of the cost. It's not as awful as my husband thinks it is, but it is sickening to have to have body work done on a brand new car so soon. That's the "joy" of living in North Idaho. Needless to say, he won't be driving it to work again anytime soon.

The Ultimate Self-Help Book

I was conversing with some of my co-workers last week about the plethora of self-help books in print. During the course of our conversation it dawned on me that I could - and should - write the ultimate self-help/diet book. Heck, with my life experiences, I could write on virtually every topic imaginable. Well, okay, I could not write about how to stop smoking as I"ve never smoked, or substance abuse, as I have never abused any substance except food. On the other hand, I could write an encyclopedia on dieting. I've pretty much tried them all and had some measure of success with most. Of course, I've had an even greater measure of failure, as have most of us. It really does all boil down to calories in/calories out - in other words, eat less, exercise more. Now, if only I would follow my own advice.

But seriously, I think I should write the consummate self-help/diet book in the vein of Peg Bracken's "I Hate to Cook" or "I Hate to Housekeep" books. For those of you too young to remember her, Peg Bracken was the anti-Martha Stewart of her day. My mom owned every one of her books. They were nifty little paperbacks filled with wonderfully simple tips for creating tantalizing dinners, quickly making your house look spiffy for the impending in-law visit, or knowing which fork or spoon to use at that fancy company dinner you have to attend. She filled her books with humor, making the lessons "stick" that much better. I'm thinking some sort of humorous book that is helpful on an array of topics. Some chapter ideas are: Resolving Family Conflicts - Siblings, Parent/Child, Adult Children, Extended Family Relationships; Dealing with Divorce - Your Own, Your Parents', Your Children's; Building Blended Families That Work; Dos and Don'ts of Stepparenting; Successful Dieting; Preparing for and Going Through Menopause; Handling Empty-Nest Syndrome; Dealing with Depression - Yours, His, Theirs; The Joys of Grandparenting - The Reward for Raising Teenagers; Caring for Elderly Parents; Housekeeping for the Organizationally Challenged; Guilt-free Parenting for the Working Woman... and that's just a start. So, toss out Dr. Phil, Dr. Laura, The South Beach Diet, Atkins, all of them. This book will replace them all.

Now, I just have to start writing it. Ideas for other chapters are enthusiastically encouraged, as are anecdotal accounts that could be incorporated in the book. I really should totally do this. Maybe on another blog. I'm pondering this idea. Suggestions welcome!

Photographic memory

I got a new digital camera! I had an Olympus C-404Z that I loved. I bought it very slightly used from a guy in town who upgraded to a Nikon 5MP camera about two years ago. I had all sorts of extras for the camera - lens adapter with three filters (UV, Polarizing, and fluorescent), AC adapter, remote, 128MB memory card, and memory card reader. I have taken hundreds of photos with it. It suffers from the usual digital camera weaknesses - slow shutter response, somewhat weak low-light focusing, and wimpy zoom - but overall it rocks. Well, I get emails from Costco.com regularly. About a month ago they had the Olympus C-755 UZ on sale for $479 with a $100 off coupon that was applied at checkout. What is so cool about the C-755? It has a 10x optical zoom! The only thing I really was disappointed about with my C-4040Z was the 3x optical zoom. I saw this camera and decided I had to have it. But how could I justify spending $400 on a new camera when my kid just went off to an insanely expensive college? I had a plan.

I am the library's resident photographer. Whenever there is some event that we want to memorialize photographically, they come to me. Sometimes, they don't come to me until moments before the event. Several times I have not had my camera with me at work, meaning we had to resort to disposable cameras as a means of capturing the event on film. Well, when I saw the C-755UZ I decided it was high time the library bought its own digital camera - MINE! So I planted the seed in my boss's ear. I mentioned all the extras, worth over $150, that would accompany the purchase, the fact that the camera was easy to use so anyone could take photos, not just me, and the fact that I had convinced him to buy the exact same camera a year ago, so he was quite well versed in its workings. He agreed it would be a wise purchase, but didn't give me the go-ahead. A month passed. I decided to order the camera anyway. I then sent out an email to the staff telling them my camera was for sale with all the extras for $425. I had a few inquiries but no takers. Then, Monday, my boss asked me if I still had my camera for sale. I did and I had it at the library. He inspected it and its accessories and then gave the finance department the okay to buy it from me! So, I have my new camera at a net cost of -$3.00!!

Now, how does it compare? I LOVE it! The zoom is awesome and the macro capabilities are even better than the C-4040Z. It has an electronic viewfinder so you get an accurate portrayal of what you're shooting. The shutter is still digital camera slow and low light focusing is still an issue, but I can live with those problems for the majority of my photographic endeavors. It takes the new xD memory cards. It comes with a 16MB card - much too small - so I wll be buying a 128MB or 256MB card, depending on price. Here's a very informative review of the camera from Steve's Digicams. I checked this out before I bought the camera and saw nothing to be concerned about. Now that I have the camera in hand, I find I love it even more than the C-4040z. I haven't had a chance to really play with it yet, but when I do I'll post some pics here.

Time to take the cat to the vet. This is an ordeal I am not looking forward to. Getting her into her cat carrier is a real test of wills. If she even sees it before I drop her into it, I'll have scratches all over my arms. I have to be sneaky, very sneaky. Wish me luck!

Hot Wheels

First, an update on yesterday

I survived my first performance review - giving one, not getting one. My assistant seemed to take the comments I had well, acknowledging her weaknesses as I had hoped she would (and as I did during my review). Unfortunately, she was pushing for a job classification change for which her job duties simply do not qualify her. Though the reasoning behind not giving her the classicification change were presented very well by our HR guy, and though I only supervise 12% of her duties (being my assistant only comprises an average of 5 hours a week of her 35 hours), she includes me in the blame for not receiving the promotion. Her other supervisor recommended her for promotion, but her recommendation was based primarily on her duties assisting me, not on her other duties. Well, quite frankly, her duties assisting me actually are categorized as being expected of someone two classifications below her current classification. At just 12% of her job duties, even if they did qualify for a higher classification, they don't comprise the majority of her duties so, again, she doesn't qualify for the promotion. Needless to say, she is not happy. Before the discussion about the promotion things had gone quite well. Sadly, I think her disappointment about the promotion overshadowed the rest of her review and she left a very unhappy person. Hopefully, she'll get over it sooner than later. I understand her frustration. She contends that she brings 40 years of business expertise to the job and that we are benefitting from that experience. That may well be the case, but the job doesn't require that expertise so, in fairness to other staff in the same classification, with or without years of expertise, we can't promote her based on that. A promotion has to be warranted by the work you do, not by what you could do or have done. If a doctor takes a job at Wal-Mart, they're not going to compensate him for his years of education or experience. He's going to get paid what the job pays. Unfortunately, she doesn't agree that she should not be compensated for what she brings to the table, despite her actual duties. Before we had our job descriptions and salary scale in place, previous directors and supervisors did just give random promotions. It sort of depended on how well you could argue your case, regardless of the actual merits of your case. If you could argue long enough, loudly enough, and hard enough, you usually got what you wanted. It was so unfair to so many deserving, but more "polite" staff that we finally wrote up job descriptions, classification qualification questionnaires, and a salary scale with written criteria for advancement. Now, when someone is promoted, there is a valid, documentable reason for the promotion. People who are adept at getting what they want through bullying, haranguing, or just plain wearing down their supervisors don't like the system we have in place now, but most staff agree that it is very fair.

Hot Wheels

So, one thing I didn't mention yesterday - we bought a new car. Previously, we had a 2002 VW Beetle TDI, a 2004 VW Jetta TDI, and our two older, paid for cars - 1992 Suburban and 1985 BMW 635CSi. Friday morning we had to take the Beetle to Appleway VW in Spokane to have the heated side mirrors replaced. They had stopped working last winter. Apparently there was design flaw, so they were replaced under warranty. While we were there, we decided to take the Audi A4 quattro for a test drive. We have always wanted one, but Tom didn't want to drive it up and down the highway to work and back, so we had never seriously considered one. The test drive was fun. It's a great car. It handles beautifully, has great suspension, Tiptronic transmission (the Porsche tranny that you can shift manually if you want to or drive in normal automatic mode), the most advanced all-wheel drive system available, and a host of other great features. It was a fun drive. When we got back, our salesman said the usual "so, let's do the paperwork", as if we were going to buy it. Yeah, right Paul. We jokingly said "you make it affordable, we'll do it" and walked back to check on the Beetle. When we got back, Paul had some numbers for us. Well, they were too high. He asked what it would take to do the deal. We told him the payments would have to be close to what we're currently paying and the initial outlay had to be virtually nothing. We went to eat lunch. When we returned, to our shock, he had put together a deal we could not pass up! So, we traded in the Jetta for an Ocean Blue Pearl Effect 2005 Audi 1.8T A4 AT5 with the Ultra Sport package, which means it has 18" alloy sport wheels and tires and a gorgeous ground effects package. This car is amazing. I am a huge BMW nut and this car actually makes me forget BMWs. I know, that's sacrilege, but it's true. The handling, the sound of the exhaust, the features... it is awesome! And the dealership treats us so well. A frequent complaint amomg BMW owners is how shabbily BMW dealerships treat them. We have been dealing with Appleway for 3 years now, having bought 5 cars in three years from them (yes, they love us there and I think we've set a record) . They have an awesome service department, awesome sales reps, and just provide overall excellent customer service. So, I just went from driving the Beetle daily to driving the Audi back and forth to work. We don't want to put a zillion miles on it, so Tom will only drive it one week a month. We'll likely keep this car instead of trade it in at the end of the lease. I love the color too! My husband was never keen on the Wheat Beige of the Jetta. He always wanted a silver one. This ocean blue is gorgeous, especially in the sun. Now we have a Marlin Blue Pearl Beetle (dark blue with purple pearl effect), an Ocean Blue Pearl Audi (sort of "Duke blue" - sort of), a Cosmos Blau (sky blue metallic - sort of a silver-blue) BMW, and a Teal Blue Suburban. Hmmm, I see a theme here. So, here's a photo of it from the Audi site.

Anyway, that's the new daily driver. It rocks! Surprisingly, it gets about 33MPG on the highway, which is pretty good for a 1.8 turbo with all-wheel drive.

Well, time to go to work again.

Brief update

I have been way too busy. As a result, my blog is suffering. Nothing worse than a blog that doesn't get updated, in my opinion. Readers stop visiting. So... a brief update before I head off to work.

College Life

Last weekend was Parent's Weekend at Whitworth, my son's college. Though we have seen Jonathan nearly every weekend since he left for college (it's only a little more than an hour away), it was still great being able to hang out with him for most of the weekend and see him in his environment, amongst his friends. We also had the pleasure of seeing his roommate' parents again. I really, really like them. JoAnn and I just seem to click. We talk easily about all sorts of stuff - mainly our boys, but about other things as well. Tom is great too, but I have to admit, when the four of us are together, usually JoAnn and I are talking together while Tom and Tom (both dads are named Tom) are talking together, so I don't get to interact with him as much as I do JoAnn. Regardless of what happens with our boys - whether or not they continue rooming together in the ensuing college years - I am sure JoAnn and I will remain friends. Meeting her was one of the best things to come out of Nathan being Jonathan's roommate.

As part of Parent's Weekend we took in a Whitworth football game. After a week of stunningly gorgeous autumn weather, things took a turn for the worse. Saturday started off cloudy and cool and soon became drizzly and cold. It didn't actually rain during the game, but it had rained so the bleachers were wet. The Harrisons had this great blanket thingee to sit on, but it was only big enough for 3 of us. They were generous enough to share it with Tom and me. JoAnn and I took up most of it, leaving both Toms to sit mostly on the wet bleachers. Thanks guys! You're the best! Though it didn't rain, it was cold with a slight breeze nipping at us throughout most of the game. We left with just a couple of minutes left in the game with Whitworth up 38-21 after taking full advantage of two fumbles by University of Puget Sound and an interception by Whitworth. We saw the end of the game as we walked to McMillan Hall, my son's dorm. After the game we "chilled" with Jonathan. Saturday night, we went to see A Man For All Seasons, put on by the Whitworth drama department. I thoroughly enjoyed it. The guys weren't having all that great a time though. Both were tired, it was warm in the auditorium, and they were both falling asleep so, sadly, we left at intermission. I love theater and had hoped seeing the play would spark an interest in the guys. This just wasn't the production to light that spark though. It was a bit difficult to understand the old English if you weren't paying close attention. Some of the actors didn't speak loudly enough so it was a little tough to hear their lines, and unless you have an interest in Henry VIII, which I always have had, that particular production can be a bit dry. Had they been doing Fiddler on the Roof, or some other more "active" production, the guys likely would have liked it better.

The following morning we enjoyed the worship service in the auditorium. Bill Robinson, the president of Whitworth, is one of the most captivating, engaging speakers I have ever had the good fortune of listening to. I would listen to that guy give a speech on how to unclog a toilet. He is amazing. I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting him, but hope to one day soon. He is the type of guy you listen to and think to yourself "I would kill to work for a guy like him." He's intelligent, articulate, humble, and funny. I can't say enough good things about him. I am so happy my son is at Whitworth. It is an awesome school with an awesome staff!

The real world calls...

Well, I have to go to work now. We have staff meeting today and then.....I have to do my first performance review of my assistant at our branch. I am not looking forward to it. I have some criticisms to make and I'm afraid of how she'll react. I am going to try to be positive and encouraging as I explain my concerns. I just pray it goes okay and she sees the criticism in the manner in which I intend it - as an attempt to help her do her job better. Cross your fingers.

Computer glitches

I know one sure-fired way to shock my co-workers, family, and friends. All I have to do is say "I HATE computers!" and they stare at me, stunned, mouths agape, as this blasphemous statement falls from my lips. The look says "if YOU hate computers...well, well, gee... what are WE supposed to feel?" After all, I am the resident computer geek, digital diva, or whatever other techno-centric name you use to describe people like me. I am supposed to love computers, all the time, no matter what. News flash... I don't. Well, I do most of the time. But when it's what you do all day, every day, there are times you just don't want to have anything to do with them, especially when they're acting up. At work, they act up a lot. After all, we have in our network of 110 computers and 7 servers, computers ranging in age from 5 to 8 years old. They're tired. They need repair, rebuilding, or replacement. Guess whose job that is? I don't mind the replacement part - we're due to replace 1/3 of them in the next month or so (yippee!) - but I hate the repair and rebuild part. I've been doing that for over 20 years and I'm sick of it. I used to have a high school whiz kid working for me to whom I could delegate these tasks. He graduated and went off to college at a time when we were suffering a budget crunch so his position was dropped. The repairs and rebuilds fell back on my shoulders - along with managing the network, designing and maintaining the web site, planning for technology upgrades, participating as part of the management team, designing our brochures, acting as the resident photographer for all special events, making sure our network is operating efficiently and securely, training staff and assisting patrons with whatever software application needs they have, filing for e-rate monies, getting quotes for new hardware and software, and handling the phone system and everything to do with it. Think I have enough to do? So, is it any wonder that some days I really hate computers? I think not. Despite what non-techie people think, there isn't always a cut and dried reason when a computer acts stupid. The reason for the famous BSOD (blue screen of death) can almost always be determined, but the reason the computer just randomly locks up, won't restart, dumps you out of a program, or reboots for no apparent reason is not always discernible. Logs don't always get written to, and unless I'm standing there to see the chain of events leading up to the offending incident, I can't always determine the reason behind its erratic behavior - especially when it's a random occurrence. Everyone looks to me for the answers. They love it when I say "I have no idea." I think it makes them feel less technologically challenged. I have no problem admitting when I don't know something. I have a lot of answers, but not all of them. I can usually find the answers to most problems, but not always. When I can't, well, I can't. I just don't know the answer.

Warning - this is going to get technical... geek-speak alert!

Now, given the description of my responsibilities at work, how much computing do you think I do at home? Almost none. If I want to look up a fact or something, I will hop on the internet to check it out, but in the evening after work, I don't even fire up the PC - unless work calls. I do work from home, probably more often than I'd care to, but it beats driving back into town. I can remotely manage my servers, which I do when patches need to be applied and servers restarted since I can do that after we close. Aside from that, I really don't compute at home much. I do blog in the mornings before work once a week or so, but that's about it.

At home, I have a small network. I have a desktop that my son used until he got his "college computer" which is with him at Whitworth. I have a laptop that I use. I setup a wireless network so I can sit on the sofa and work if I have to. The desktop used to be connected physically to the network via the router while my laptop could connect via the router or the wireless access point. The desktop isn't currently connected at all, so just my laptop is using our cable internet connection via the WAP.

I have been experiencing constant "outages" lately. I would connect to a server at work or at the company for whom I provide network administration services as a consultant only to lose my connectivity for several seconds and then regain it. I has been driving me crazy! I didn't know if my cable connection was spazzing out, if my router was being stupid (it's had problems in the past) or what the problem was. So, today I decided to find out, once and for all. I was connected and started losing connectivity. I had gotten into the habit of opening up a command prompt and typing in "ping -t 192.168.1.1" and letting that run while I worked. What that does is send a constant "ping" to my router. When I would experience a lag in response on the remote server or web page, I would bring up that command prompt box to see the status of my ping. Invariably, the ping would be timing out. Okay... but is the problem with the router or my WAP? The only way to test that is to disconnect from the WAP and physically connect to my router and see what happens. Unfortunately, my 25 foot long cord is at work so I am sitting on the floor of my son's newly clean room (he didn't recognize it when he came home for a visit Sunday), laptop physically connected to the router with a 6 foot cord, pinging away happily while I type this. So far, so good. I appears the problem may be my WAP after all. That's not all bad. I have been considering buying a new wireless router, which would combine the features of my router and my WAP. Now my only dilemma is what brand to buy and whether to continue using 802.11a or go with 802.11 b/g. My wireless network card will handle all three protocols so that's not an issue. I chose 802.11a to begin with because it provides faster speeds (up to 108mbps), it operates on a less frequently used frequency, meaning less interference from cordless phones, for example, and fewer people use it so it's more secure. But I have noticed that the range is a lot smaller. I can't even go out on my deck and stay connected, but I can pick up some random 802.11g network from someone in my neighborhood... so, I'm pondering 802.11b/g so I can work outside when I want to. Then again, the interference issue is a concern since I use cordless phones that operate at 2.4GHz, the frequency used by 802.11b/g. I have yet to decide what to do. Product selection is a lot greater - and cheaper - in the b/g product range, but that's not a huge factor. Reliability, speed, and security are my biggest concerns. So, I'm still pondering. In the meantime, I'm going to keep testing this direct connection to make sure it isn't my router before I run out and buy new equipment.

Geez, it's 8AM already. Time to get ready for work. I feel like I've been working already. :S

In a country where they turn back time

I am a collector of verbal images. I become weak-kneed when I hear or read a well-turned phrase that is used to describe something - without actually telling you what it's describing. The phrase is so perfect you know exactly what it's describing, though the object is never stated explicitly. One such phrase, or collection of phrases, comes from one of my all-time favorite songs The Year of the Cat by Al Stewart. Case in point:

On a morning from a Bogart movie
In a country where they turn back time
You go strolling through the crowd like
Peter Lorre contemplating a crime.

What a perfect set of phrases. The scene is set. You know exactly what he's describing, and where, you can see her in your mind's eye. Perfect! When I write poems, which I used to do prolifically but now do only on occasion, I strive to do exactly as Al Stewart has in this song. I am sometimes successful, and relish those moments of brilliance; sadly, they are few and far between. Perhaps one day I will share some of those pieces here. Despite the fact that I write less often, I still mentally collect and create these verbal images. This time of year overwhelms me as I attempt to describe the splendor of autumn as it unfolds around me.

I grew up in a place where there was no autumn. I don't ever remember leaves falling from trees, waiting to be raked and piled, those piles waiting to be jumped in by children. Is my memory faulty or does the central coast of California really not have autumn? Like everyone in the world, I had seen photos of the glorious colors of New England. I think I grew up believing that was the only place in the country where trees changed colors. I now know better. I live in a place that produces colors rivaling New England. That color change, from the first few red leaves on the maples through the falling of the last golden leaf, is a marvel to behold, and I am fortunate to live right in the midst of it. But I digress.

In a country where they turn back time - what a perfect phrase. I have always thought this line referred to daylight saving time. With that in mind, the phrase is perfect in that it could mean the US, Canada, Britain, or any of 70 countries that observe DST. As an American, I automatically assumed it meant the US, and couldn't help but appreciate how perfectly that phrase brought up an image of the US. I recently read the actual lyrics to the song and realize it says "In a country where they turned back time", which gives the line an entirely different meaning, especially when taken in the context of the subsequent lines that describe a scene reminiscent of an open market in a warm, tourist-filled tropical region. Nevertheless, I still love the line "In a country where they turn back time" as a description of the US....which brings me to the real theme of today's post. It's 6:14 AM - and it's dark outside. Just a few weeks ago, it was light out at this time. I would wake to sunlight streaming through the window. Now, the alarm goes off and I have to stare at the clock to convince myself that it really is 4:50 AM and not the middle of the night. Rather than getting out of bed to a sun rising over the horizon in the east, I usually see the moon above the horizon in the west, still an hour or so from setting. It's depressing. I find myself wanting to go back to bed after my husband leaves for work at 6 AM. When the sun is up, I am energized. I am ready to hit the driving range or gym before work; I feel like being active; going back to bed is the last thing on my mind. The month before we turn back time is one of the toughest of the year. It grows darker every morning; it gets dark earlier every night; it is obvious that winter is just a few weeks away. It's depressing. The good news is, in less than 30 days we will be turning back time, and it will be light at 5 AM - for a while. That last few weeks of early morning daylight serve to fill up the reserves, making it easier to endure the approaching ever-shortening days of winter. So here I sit, in the pre-dawn darkness at 6:22 AM, trying to convince myself to go to the gym or driving range, struggling against the wool-blanket grayness of this "gawdawful" hour, trying not to think about the warm bed calling to me from my bedroom, anxiously awaiting the start of PST at 2 AM on Halloween morning. It can't come soon enough. In a country where they turn back time....

Cats talk

Common wisdom tells us animals can't talk. Well, that's bunk! I'm here to tell you cats most certainly do talk. They just don't speak English. Why should they? After all, they are cats, the notoriously snobbish, aloof, "I'll come when I want to - or not at all" domesticated creatures with which many of us find ourselves in a love-hate relationship. I happen to love cats. I've almost always had one for a pet - or rather, one has had me, because one rarely "has" a cat. The cat chooses you - or not. You will often see a cat that is very affectionate with one or two family members while avoiding one family member - usually the one who really wants to pet or snuggle it - like the plague. The flip side of that equation is the cat who insists on cozying up to the one person in the family who really dislikes cats. At every possible turn, the cat is near that person - on his lap, in her chair, next to her in bed - to the chagrin of the cat-hater. Cats are something. But I digress.

Cats talk. Case in point. Last night, I went down the hall for some reason that I don't recall. My cat ran ahead of me, quite unusual for her, and stopped at the door to the laundry room where her dry food dish lives. She looked back at me expectantly. Now, my cat does not meow. She sort of murmurs on occasion, but pretty much never lets out a typical "meow". I looked at her and asked her what was up. She meowed. A real, honest-to-goodness cat meow. I knew something was wrong.

I went into the laundry room and she raced to her dish - her very empty, not-even-a-crumb-in-it dish - and meowed. Ahhhh, she's hungry. Usually this dish is kept full so she can pick at it as she pleases. Well, I had run out of dry food so it was empty. I told her I was sorry, that I had no dry food, but that I'd get her a can of tuna if she'd come with me. I turned and walked out of the laundry room. She ran to the door and just stopped. I swear she stomped her foot! I looked back at her and she was just staring - no, glaring - at me. I heard her thinking "WHAT! No food! What is WRONG with you?! I don't want tuna, I want kibble - NOW! How dare you leave this room without filling my dish!" I sheepishly shrugged my shoulders and replied "I'm sorry, Ali, I don't have any and I'm not going to the store until tomorrow." She was mad! I continued walking down the hall. She RAN after me and again stopped and stomped her paws, glaring at me. And she meowed again.

I got a can of tuna from the cupboard, opened it and put it in her wet food dish in the kitchen. Do you think she ran right over to it and started eating? Not on your life. She just stood and stared at me in utter disbelief. I turned off the light, slinked into the bedroom, and got into bed. That was not the end of it. She jumped onto the bed and started nudging me with her head. Bump. Bump. Bump. "Get up. Get me food. Now." Bump. I finally had to push her off the bed. She meowed. I drifted off to sleep, but not for long. A couple of hours later, "plop!" she jumped up onto me and plopped down on my back. It's amazing how heavy a 10 pound cat can make itself when it wants to wake you up. She succeeded. She started nudging me again - and then she licked my face! Not too many things have the startling affect that a cat's rough tongue on your face has in the middle of the night. I was just waiting for the nip to follow. I pushed her off of me, turned over and went back to sleep. She wasn't finished. She kept this up all night long. She'd jump onto the bed, walk onto my side or back, purr, nudge me, lick my face, and I'd push her away. She knew exactly what she was doing. And she succeeded. I barely got 4 hours of sleep last night, thanks to her.

Oh, and the scratching. When I'd push her off the bed, she'd sit next to it and scratch herself. Do you have any idea how loud a cat scratching itself seemingly non-stop is at 1:00 AM? Needless to say, when the alarm went off at 5:00 AM, not only was I nowhere near ready to get up, but you-know-who was sitting within inches of my face staring at me, a Cheshire cat smile on her lips. And she meowed.

This time she did eat the tuna since her routine is that she gets a can of canned food in the morning, but trust me, if I come home without dry food tonight, I'm a goner. I know there will be cat hell to pay. I'm stopping at the store on the way home for one thing and one thing only - cat food. I'm no fool. I don't want to get yelled at by my cat again.

And they say cats can't talk. Psh!

Winter is just around the corner :(

I decided it's time to post about something other than missing my son. I still do miss him, but it's getting easier to make it through a day without falling apart emotionally. We are beginning to settle into a routine - he and we - wherein he calls in the evening, usually every day. If he doesn't call, we don't freak out. We understand he's busy, hopefully studying, but more likely playing foosball at the girl's dorm (Ballard), or poker with the guys in McMillan (Mac), or playing video games with Nathan and others in the dorm. We've also been fortunate in that we went to Spokane Sunday and took him to lunch along with our daughter and her family. We needed a "Jonathan fix" and the two hours we spent with him will tide us over for a while. It's so great to see him so happy at college. It is truly everything high school never was. He is in his element there and we couldn't be happier for him.

Now, on to other things. It is raining so hard it's as if Hurricane Ivan is affecting even the Panhandle of Idaho. It has been pouring off and on all day. The leaves on the trees are already beginning to turn. It seems too early for that to be taking place. I've heard the Farmer's Almanac has predicted a brutal winter, but who believes in that stuff. Psh! Not I! I'm still holding out for a nice, long Indian Summer between now and the first snowfall.

I am not a fan of winter. Well, let me rephrase that. I am not a fan of long, gray, wet, cold winters. I usually don't mind November, December, and the first part of January, but that's about my limit for winter. Remember, I'm a California girl. I grew up where winter meant we wore jeans and a zip-front hooded sweatshirt instead of shorts and tank tops. I didn't even own a heavy coat until my first husband and I took a trip to the Sierras and I bought my very first down jacket. Despite the fact that I've lived here for 21 years, I have never grown fond of winter. About mid-January I find myself reminiscing about warm California winters, playing golf year-round, and going to the snow, not living in the snow. By the end of February, I'm a raving lunatic. Some winters the snow and gray skies linger until the end of April. Those are the winters I question my decision to live here - and my sanity. Fortunately, those winters are not the norm. Though we do get quite a bit of snow, and it stays on the ground from November through February, we usually have a number of sunny days with stunningly beautiful, crystal-clear, blue skies. Those are the days that make winter bearable. On days like that, as I drive eastward on my way home from work, I am blessed in that I am surrounded by the most amazing scenery.

Ahead of me are the rugged mountain ranges of eastern Idaho and western Montana, the deep blue sky setting off their snow-capped peaks perfectly. The roadside is heavily forested and lush, frosted with freshly fallen snow sparkling in the waning sunlight. If I drive just a little past my home, I will find myself traveling the shoreline of Lake Pend Oreille. I find it nearly impossible to describe this scene without using trite imagery like that found in cheesy novels. It is breathtaking. It is stunningly beautiful. It is beyond description. As I gaze upon the lake, the mountains in the background, and the bluest sky you've ever seen, I can't help but thank God for the opportunity to live here and to look upon this glorious sight daily. I keep these images stored away, and on those endless, awful, gray days I pull them out to help get me through until the next sunny day. This truly is a magnificent place in which to live. I just need to remind myself of that come February 15 in the middle of a blizzard.

And speaking of blizzards... yes, the signs are all here. Winter is just around the corner. It has rained now for 4 days straight - not just sprinkled, but rained - steadily, soggily, constantly. Enough is enough, already. It's mid-September. It's supposed to be warm - the calm before the storm, so to speak. We're supposed to have Indian summer, temps in the 80's, one last chance to get the boat out on the lake before storing it for winter, a chance to winterize the lawn, dig up the bulbs, plant new ones, get the yard ready for winter, not this incessant rain forcing us indoors to consider ark-building techniques. Stop the rain, please!

Fall is nice here, albeit brief. The trees do turn beautiful colors rivaling those of the eastern U.S. We have a lot of aspens here. They turn a magnificent golden color unlike almost any other tree. The forests are filled with tamarack, or western larch, a tree that looks like an evergreen in the summer but whose needles turn a pale gold in the late fall, and fall off in the winter. I remember when we first moved here, I had never heard of a tamarack. I saw all these trees in the winter I thought were dead - thousands of them. I wondered what blight had taken their lives. Imagine my surprise to see them sprouting bright green needles in the spring, as if magically reborn thanks to a transfusion of Miracle-Gro. It was then I learned about tamaracks. We also have our share of maples, birch, cottonwoods, alder, and other deciduous trees that add to the fall parade of color. The display is definitely jaw-dropping.

I like autumn. I become a photography maniac in the fall, attempting (usually quite unsuccessfully) to capture the drama of the color surrounding me. Why is it so difficult to get onto film (or in my case, smart media) what your eyes see all around you? Obviously, some photographers do that very well. Alas, I'm not one of them. I chalk it up to lack of proper equipment - like filters, lenses, tripods, etc. - certainly not lack of talent or ability. :) I keep trying, none the less. I love challenges.

Yep, winter is just around the corner. Here's to a long and glorious autumn before winter strikes. I'll keep you posted.

How do you let go?

For eighteen years we've had this amazing kid living in our house. He was an adorable, lovable, intelligent, happy little boy who grew into a bright, articulate, wonderful young man. We were privileged, honored, and blessed as we watched him grow, learn, explore, and develop into the fine young man he is today. For eighteen years we saw him nearly every day. He never spent more than a few days away from us in all those years. He became our friend as well as our son. We enjoyed his company - most of the time (he did have his surly teenage moments). We looked forward to hearing about his day as we sat in the living room each evening. As much as I grumbled, I enjoyed helping him with his homework when he asked me to do so (it would have been a lot more enjoyable had it not always been the night before it was due!) All in all, we enjoyed our son, took comfort in hearing the clackity-clack of the keyboard as he sat in front of his computer for hours playing online games, knowing he was safe and sound in his room. We were connected.

Overnight it all changed. He went off to college on Septembr 4th. In one day, our lives were completely different. We drove to Spokane with him in his car behind us. We drove home alone, tears falling freely. He doesn't live here anymore. He won't be coming in to tell me about what happened at school or work when I get home. He isn't in his room in front of the computer or TV. He is off doing what college kids do - starting his life as an adult, without Mom and Dad breathing down his neck. He's free. How does a parent cope with that? How do you let go?

It didn't happen gradually. We didn't get to wean ourselves off of Jonathan. We didn't have a chance to get used to only hearing from him once a day via phone, then graduate to every other day via phone with weekend visits, then every few days via phone with semi-monthly visits, and so on. No, this was an amputation. One day he's there. The next, he's gone. It's too quick, too brutal. We're not ready. We need to hear from him, hear how classes are going, hear how dorm life is going, hear about the friends he's making. We need to stay connected. How do you let go?

We have a family cell phone plan, which means we can all call each other as often as we like at no charge. So, we deal with the loss by calling him, trying to stay connected. We explain that this need is just temporary, we'll get over it, just bear with us. He balks. The first day I call him too often, message him too often. He's annoyed with us. He needs his freedom. His friends wonder what our problem is. We remind him it's just temporary. He tries to understand, but doesn't really. How can he? We need a compromise. We ask him to just call us each evening, just to touch base, like "the old days". He agrees, begrudgingly. He calls that night and tells us about the past couple of days and his first day of class. We go to bed happy. The next day, it's all I can do not to call him and see what he's up to. I finally succumb to my need and call him for a short conversation. He promises to call that night so we can talk longer. He doesn't call. His older sister tells us he is embarrassed by our calls. His friends are starting to make fun of him. That's the last thing we want. How do you let go?

Today I sent him an email telling him we won't call him anymore. We will wait for his call when it's convenient for him. It's funny how you can sometimes stand back and watch yourself and understand the motivation behind your actions. Part of me wanted to get angry, to say "fine, screw you, I don't need you either!" I realized that was a natural, defensive behavior, but not the appropriate response. Anger is just a coverup for sorrow and fear. Obviously, I fear becoming irrelevant to my son, especially when he is so important to me. No wonder it hurts to let him go. I don't want to become unimportant to him. And the reality is, I never will be, but that doesn't make it easier to believe - or less painful to let him go. How do you let go?

He will never understand the need to just hear his voice, the desire to share in the wonderful new experiences he's having by listening to him tell us about his day, the need to wean ourselves from him instead of being amputated from his life so brutally. He just wants his freedom. So, we will push ourselves to allow him that, push past the pain, give him his space, wait for his call and invitation to visit, as difficult as that is going to be. We will let go.... just please, someone, tell us how you do that.