- I've mentioned Sarah before. Sarah always sits--asleep--in the chair by the north window of the lobby. On Friday she was sitting in the chair by the east window! I said to Dulce, the delightful young receptionist, "Sarah's in the wrong place!" and we both burst out laughing. It says something about the atmosphere when we both found the change hysterically funny!
- Mom has been into talking about her funeral this week but not in any kind of depressing way. I had brought her a hymnal so she could pick out songs. While we were looking together at the hymnal Friday morning, in walks the psychiatrist for her weekly thirty second visit. She says, "How are you, Mildred" and Mom answers "Fine. I'm looking at hymns for my funeral." The psychiatrist turned purple....and was utterly speechless until she finally mumbled something about everybody eventually dying and practically ran out of the room. Now one would think that a PSYCHIATRIST who works in a NURSING HOME might have AT LEAST ONCE dealt with someone talking about death....but evidently not!
- There's a new resident named Flora. They had Flora sit at mom's dining table. Flora ate gefilte fish and matzo balls, which her family must have brought, for the first three nights. Mom described the gefilte fish to me in a disgusting way---let's just say she was totally grossed out. Flora, who doesn't yet know who's who at Rosewood, kept saying "Nurse, nurse"! whenever she wanted something during a meal. Mom finally had it and said, "At this table we say 'please' ". Then tablemate Sally called Mom anti-Semitic because Mom was grossed out by the gefilte fish. Sally later apologized profusely but mysteriously remains angry with Mollie, the other tablemate, who evidently sat pretty quietly during this whole turmoil. Mom admitted the entire scenario was kindergarten all over again. Today at lunch Flora was sitting elsewhere and I had a pleasant conversation with Mom, Mollie and Sally. Stay tuned.
- Mom "bought" a necklace and some sort of bag at the monthly auction last Friday, so she's happy. However, some people just have too much "money" and bid way, way too high on things. Mom wasn't able to buy any candy! I guess there are a couple of visiting daughters who occasionally play one of the games with their mothers, win some "money" and then turn that "money" over to their moms who then have more to bid at the auction. I'm not getting sucked into that scenario! If Mom wants candy I'll buy it at the Jewel!
- Today was a beautiful day so we went for a walk. As we walked near the staff parking lot, Mom yelled "Ella, Ella!" to a CNA walking to her car. Ella has assisted my mother the last couple of days and part of their getting acquainted was Mom going through the story....again.....that her daughter is a Spanish teacher. So Ella and I stood there talking Spanish and getting acquainted. She was delightful and I enjoyed talking with her. I laugh at Mom continually bringing up the Spanish connection and I'm sure the Mexican CNAs are equally kind to everyone, but the power of making that language connection is profound!
- Finally, a laundry load of Mom's clothes went missing on March 2. The articles have never been found. It appears that after a mere three months, we are actually going to get some reimbursement. Next week. Maybe. If there's enough in petty cash.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Rosewood Ramblings
Maybe I'll write a book about nursing home visits. There's certainly plenty of material! For example:
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Planaria
David stopped by this afternoon and showed us his "science project", actually a very involved project on the hardening properties of concrete, which he presented to his graduate class last week. I don't begin to understand all his data, but the Power Point presentation, complete with animated graphics and charts, was mighty cool!
Back in seventh grade David signed up for the Science Fair elective. He spent the first quarter learning how to do research and planning a project, and the second quarter collecting data and writing up his project. David's project involved planaria, tiny worm like creatures seen above. I've actually forgotten the premise of the project, but I'll never forget his problems with the project. Seems David couldn't keep his planaria alive long enough to do his research! Several times different types of water were experimented with. Several times his science teacher re-ordered planaria from planaria.com or rescueDavid's project.com to no avail. David had a wonderful research paper, great poster....but no data.
So what did David learn from this project?
- David learned to never again do a science project using any living thing. He went to "state" with his eighth grade non-living project!
- David's fruit flies survived intact for his required high school biology project. Ever cautious about keeping experimental creatures alive, David was paranoid about making sure he was available to tend to those fruit flies at the critical time periods in their brief lives.
- David majored in engineering!
- David now makes a living dealing with concrete, bridges, "crack houses" (not what you think), and other structures. They can all have serious problems....but staying alive is not one of them.
We parents get incredibly wrapped up in our children's struggles and failures, but don't always recognize until much later how those struggles and failures can develop just the skills that will be needed in their future work.
For more information about those wonderful planaria, check out this site I found in researching this blog :-)
http://prweb0.voicenet.com/~ginette/planaria.htm
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Ode to Pedro the Second
You've been part of our family since 1998.
You've logged 150,000+ miles and you're tired.
But, oh, the places you've been.
You've driven the country: twice to Maine, twice to Colorado, twice to Boston, countless times to Michigan and Wisconsin, across New York many times, and all over the Chicago area.
You were patient when Kevin used you to learn to drive. When David occasionally drove you to the high school you, as he, were not embarrassed to be the only mini-van in a sea of stylish SUVs.
And, oh, the people you've carried: teenage boys with their friends and dates, our whole family together with three grandparents, a car full of "Club 62ers" on their way to a day of shopping in Michigan City.
You were often loaded down. You moved David into Northwestern dorms in '99 and '00, then to an apartment in '01. You repeated the Northwestern dorm and apartment runs a few years later with Kevin. You carried timpani from the junior high to Ascension on many "high" holidays. You carried umpteen soft cases filled with marimba pieces over and over and over again....in fact, just a few days ago you did it for the last time. And let's not forget how many times you carried the kayaks to the Skokie Lagoons or to North Lake!
And, oh, the joys you've shared. Who took us to high school and college graduations? Who took us to Chautauqua for Kevin's first (and second) major summer festival? Who drove us to David and Lisa's wedding loaded down with centerpieces and gifts? Who took Kevin to graduate school? Who has taken visiting family and friends all over the city? Who took young boys fishing. You did, Pedro! Thanks!
Yes, you're just a car, but a lot has happened in the 11 years you've been part of the family!
You'll be missed.
Pedro the Third will begin a new adventure by taking Kevin to California in a couple of weeks. Hope he's up for marimbas, bikes, and percussionists!
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Yeah, Technology!
The last time I was in Paris was 1973, the next time is in 10 days. What a difference 36 years make!
Readers of this blog know that in 1973 I almost became trapped forever in a gasless VW bug in central France because I couldn't access any money. On that trip I also mailed letters home and received mail only when I had a semi-permanent address at the school I attended. My family certainly had no idea what was happening with me for weeks at a time....and if I ran out of traveler's checks I was totally out of money. If I lost my airplane ticket I was dead.
I spent a chunk of today finalizing plans for our up-coming trip. This involves checking web sites for information on sites, actually looking at the house we will be staying at on Google maps, arranging for cell phone coverage, telling credit card and ATM banks where we'll be, e-mailing contact information to family, and counting the euros I've bought from Jill. I need to remember to book-mark my web mail address and blog address on Ken's lap top so they'll be available to me. We won't be out of contact any more than we are in Northbrook and can access almost any amount of money 24/7. How bizarre is that!
On a far less exciting, but equally technological subject, we took the mini-van into our totally honest car mechanic today and got a totally honest answer.....Darn! The mini-van is not safe for Kevin to drive to California. It's actually not safe to drive in Northbrook. It's actually unrepairable! Looks like we'll be trying to buy a safe car between now and next week.
Ken heard this information about an hour ago. In that short hour, using Vehix.com, he has found a couple of relatively new mini-vans in nearby suburbs at cheap prices because Chrysler dealers have just heard they will be shut down and have to get rid of inventory. Ken knows the mileage, age, accident history, previous owners, mechanical problems, and probably how often the previous owner had the car washed! In an hour! Verifiable!
Was it more fun to be stuck in central France without any way to get cash? Was it more fun to spend weeks trudging from dealer to dealer to look at cars? Was it more fun to haggle over prices for weeks?
I don't think so!
Readers of this blog know that in 1973 I almost became trapped forever in a gasless VW bug in central France because I couldn't access any money. On that trip I also mailed letters home and received mail only when I had a semi-permanent address at the school I attended. My family certainly had no idea what was happening with me for weeks at a time....and if I ran out of traveler's checks I was totally out of money. If I lost my airplane ticket I was dead.
I spent a chunk of today finalizing plans for our up-coming trip. This involves checking web sites for information on sites, actually looking at the house we will be staying at on Google maps, arranging for cell phone coverage, telling credit card and ATM banks where we'll be, e-mailing contact information to family, and counting the euros I've bought from Jill. I need to remember to book-mark my web mail address and blog address on Ken's lap top so they'll be available to me. We won't be out of contact any more than we are in Northbrook and can access almost any amount of money 24/7. How bizarre is that!
On a far less exciting, but equally technological subject, we took the mini-van into our totally honest car mechanic today and got a totally honest answer.....Darn! The mini-van is not safe for Kevin to drive to California. It's actually not safe to drive in Northbrook. It's actually unrepairable! Looks like we'll be trying to buy a safe car between now and next week.
Ken heard this information about an hour ago. In that short hour, using Vehix.com, he has found a couple of relatively new mini-vans in nearby suburbs at cheap prices because Chrysler dealers have just heard they will be shut down and have to get rid of inventory. Ken knows the mileage, age, accident history, previous owners, mechanical problems, and probably how often the previous owner had the car washed! In an hour! Verifiable!
Was it more fun to be stuck in central France without any way to get cash? Was it more fun to spend weeks trudging from dealer to dealer to look at cars? Was it more fun to haggle over prices for weeks?
I don't think so!
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Wholeness
This is going to sound maudlin, but it isn't.
My mother was a bit agitated this afternoon. During the night, she evidently "stewed" about her funeral. During the past six months three of her Ascension friends have died, the most recent last week. She has seen the bulletins from and had conversation about all three funerals, must have studied the most recent bulletin yesterday, and was truly troubled that her funeral would be like theirs' --- traditional funeral order of service with no real personalization and no short biography on the back cover.
I actually wasn't crazy about the standardized nature of those funerals either, but there were logical explanations. Arlene, who passed away in November, had a lot of close family but, for whatever reason, her children didn't want to participate in planning and left all he funeral arrangements up to the pastor. Sylvia was a childless widow, her closest family a brother-in-law. Jeanette, also a widow, had one unmarried daughter and some cousins. These women just didn't have family who could bring their life stories into the funeral service and, incidentally, the pastors were all new to Ascension who had not been there to learn their stories.
So Mom declared she wants her family front and center as liturgists, readers, communion assistants, musicians, and poets (Yes, Tom, she wants you to write a poem when the time comes!). True to her passion for genealogy, she wants it proclaimed that her grandfather Steffen, a pastor who died long before her birth, had a great influence on her as a lifelong Lutheran. She wants it known that she has worked with 14 pastors (so far--Ascension is still searching for our next pastor). She wants to be recognized for all the things she has done and been part of in her church life--but all her life, not just her years at Ascension. She doesn't want the standard 23rd Psalm and such, but does want a sermon text to be the "doxology" from Numbers that was the sermon text at their wedding. She no longer likes the hymns she identified years ago and agreed to look through a hymnal for new suggestions. She may have to rely on organist Jill to play....unless someone in the family can learn to play the organ in time :-)
At least Jill is adjunct family!
Of course, I assured her that certainly her entire family would be part of her funeral and it would be highly personalized and, of course, there would be a printed biography. As is usually the case, however, Mom's concerns today led me to think of a related topic.
Don't we all want to be known and remembered as "whole" people? Ken and I joined Ascension shortly before David was born and I began my "nine-year maternity leave". As much as I loved being an at-home mom, it bothered me a bit that people at Ascension---through no fault of their own---knew me only as a mom, not as a teacher, writer, or previously self-sufficient single adult. At Northbrook Junior High people often acted like that my entire career was at that school when I wanted to shout that, no, I had spent 15 years in Des Plaines. When I have to identify myself now as retired, I want to shout "Yes, but, I'm also......., have been...., plan to be...."
On Thursday I spent five hours in the car with a relatively new church friend, Lisa, as we drove a long way to see a pastoral candidate preach. As did I, Lisa married "late", had children "later" and, in spite of my own comments in the above parragraph, I thought of her primarily as a "mom" (who does work part time). Of course, in five hours we learned each other's life stories in depth and now we know each other as "whole" people.
How cool! And how "wholely" essential!
My mother was a bit agitated this afternoon. During the night, she evidently "stewed" about her funeral. During the past six months three of her Ascension friends have died, the most recent last week. She has seen the bulletins from and had conversation about all three funerals, must have studied the most recent bulletin yesterday, and was truly troubled that her funeral would be like theirs' --- traditional funeral order of service with no real personalization and no short biography on the back cover.
I actually wasn't crazy about the standardized nature of those funerals either, but there were logical explanations. Arlene, who passed away in November, had a lot of close family but, for whatever reason, her children didn't want to participate in planning and left all he funeral arrangements up to the pastor. Sylvia was a childless widow, her closest family a brother-in-law. Jeanette, also a widow, had one unmarried daughter and some cousins. These women just didn't have family who could bring their life stories into the funeral service and, incidentally, the pastors were all new to Ascension who had not been there to learn their stories.
So Mom declared she wants her family front and center as liturgists, readers, communion assistants, musicians, and poets (Yes, Tom, she wants you to write a poem when the time comes!). True to her passion for genealogy, she wants it proclaimed that her grandfather Steffen, a pastor who died long before her birth, had a great influence on her as a lifelong Lutheran. She wants it known that she has worked with 14 pastors (so far--Ascension is still searching for our next pastor). She wants to be recognized for all the things she has done and been part of in her church life--but all her life, not just her years at Ascension. She doesn't want the standard 23rd Psalm and such, but does want a sermon text to be the "doxology" from Numbers that was the sermon text at their wedding. She no longer likes the hymns she identified years ago and agreed to look through a hymnal for new suggestions. She may have to rely on organist Jill to play....unless someone in the family can learn to play the organ in time :-)
At least Jill is adjunct family!
Of course, I assured her that certainly her entire family would be part of her funeral and it would be highly personalized and, of course, there would be a printed biography. As is usually the case, however, Mom's concerns today led me to think of a related topic.
Don't we all want to be known and remembered as "whole" people? Ken and I joined Ascension shortly before David was born and I began my "nine-year maternity leave". As much as I loved being an at-home mom, it bothered me a bit that people at Ascension---through no fault of their own---knew me only as a mom, not as a teacher, writer, or previously self-sufficient single adult. At Northbrook Junior High people often acted like that my entire career was at that school when I wanted to shout that, no, I had spent 15 years in Des Plaines. When I have to identify myself now as retired, I want to shout "Yes, but, I'm also......., have been...., plan to be...."
On Thursday I spent five hours in the car with a relatively new church friend, Lisa, as we drove a long way to see a pastoral candidate preach. As did I, Lisa married "late", had children "later" and, in spite of my own comments in the above parragraph, I thought of her primarily as a "mom" (who does work part time). Of course, in five hours we learned each other's life stories in depth and now we know each other as "whole" people.
How cool! And how "wholely" essential!
Friday, May 22, 2009
Laughing Aloud
After walking this morning I calmly got in my car, started the engine, turned on the radio and prepared to listen to my "girlfriends" on the way home. Then, in an instant, my world changed!
Kathy and Judy were anouncing that today -- TODAY -- was their last show!
The cleverly named "Kathy and Judy" show has been a fixture on WGN radio for 20 years. They are two women my age who rather accidentally ended up on talk radio and developed a unique, sometimes serious, but often hysterically funny call-in show. Everyone who listened to their show was a "girlfriend" - including a significant number of "guy girlfriends". When a topic was touchy and callers didn't want to be identified they were always "Ronda" or "Vince".
Wednesdays were "Speak Your Piece": People would call in and briefly state what significant or insignificant but annoying thing was bugging them. Thursdays from 11:00-11:30 was "Sex Thursday" when they would warn all the moms to get their kids away from the radio while they discussed - you guessed it - sex. Late in August was always the "Saying Goodbye" show when they would play a totally sappy song about kids growing up and parents would call in - usually crying - to tell what it was like to take their son or daughter to college. Then, of course, in December was the reading of "Merry Medical Christmas" -- actual Christmas newsletters that explained in painful detail about someone's surgery, abdominal distress, or oozing inflammations.
I haven't listened to Kathy and Judy every day. For most of their tenure I was working and would only catch them in the summer or on a vacation day. I don't think I've ever listened to an entire show. Since "retirement" I've heard them most days, but usually only for a short time in the car.
So why am I in shock over this? Why do I feel like life as I knew it is over? Because they made me laugh! Without absurd adolescents doing ridiculous things that we could laugh about in the teachers' lounge and without little kids of my own doing totally funny things that would make me laugh aloud, I've so appreciated the times I've unexpectedly laughed aloud while listening.
What a wonderful thing - laughing aloud! It's only a radio program....but I will miss it!
Kathy and Judy were anouncing that today -- TODAY -- was their last show!
The cleverly named "Kathy and Judy" show has been a fixture on WGN radio for 20 years. They are two women my age who rather accidentally ended up on talk radio and developed a unique, sometimes serious, but often hysterically funny call-in show. Everyone who listened to their show was a "girlfriend" - including a significant number of "guy girlfriends". When a topic was touchy and callers didn't want to be identified they were always "Ronda" or "Vince".
Wednesdays were "Speak Your Piece": People would call in and briefly state what significant or insignificant but annoying thing was bugging them. Thursdays from 11:00-11:30 was "Sex Thursday" when they would warn all the moms to get their kids away from the radio while they discussed - you guessed it - sex. Late in August was always the "Saying Goodbye" show when they would play a totally sappy song about kids growing up and parents would call in - usually crying - to tell what it was like to take their son or daughter to college. Then, of course, in December was the reading of "Merry Medical Christmas" -- actual Christmas newsletters that explained in painful detail about someone's surgery, abdominal distress, or oozing inflammations.
I haven't listened to Kathy and Judy every day. For most of their tenure I was working and would only catch them in the summer or on a vacation day. I don't think I've ever listened to an entire show. Since "retirement" I've heard them most days, but usually only for a short time in the car.
So why am I in shock over this? Why do I feel like life as I knew it is over? Because they made me laugh! Without absurd adolescents doing ridiculous things that we could laugh about in the teachers' lounge and without little kids of my own doing totally funny things that would make me laugh aloud, I've so appreciated the times I've unexpectedly laughed aloud while listening.
What a wonderful thing - laughing aloud! It's only a radio program....but I will miss it!
Thursday, May 21, 2009
If It's Tuesday.....
So this morning started early with a 6:45 birthday breakfast for a couple of Northbrook J.H. colleagues. I then spent an hour doing my "homework" for the hymn selection team at church, changed clothes, and headed to church for the funeral of one of my mother's contemporaries at church. Organist friend Jill played for the funeral, so she and I grabbed a sandwich and caught up on life before I headed off to the junior high. The purpose in the junior high visit was to re-claim some visuals that I had left when I retired (The teacher who replaced me is now moving elsewhere and won't be taking those things.) and to visit with French teacher friend Jill.
So, how am I "relaxing" this afternoon? Well, I got home in time to talk with a representative from the North Shore Senior Center about scheduling a Spanish art series next fall. In a few minutes I'm leaving to drive two hours in rush hour traffic to attend the 6:00 p.m. service of a pastor candidate we are considering. Then I get to drive two hours home.
Retired life is so calm and peaceful!
So, how am I "relaxing" this afternoon? Well, I got home in time to talk with a representative from the North Shore Senior Center about scheduling a Spanish art series next fall. In a few minutes I'm leaving to drive two hours in rush hour traffic to attend the 6:00 p.m. service of a pastor candidate we are considering. Then I get to drive two hours home.
Retired life is so calm and peaceful!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Flippers and Caulifower Revisited
I never cease to be amazed by people I meet in the Northbrook area. Last night's crowd at the library art presentation included people who have come to hear about all five artists, but also included first timers who came just because of their interest in Dalí.
After years of working with adolescents, it is still a delightful adventure to work with adults. They listen and at least feign interest---although I do catch the occasional teacher texting or checking e-mail during my BER seminars. Even adults, however, "say the darndest things." Dalís' paintings are immensely complicated and often include myriad optical illusions. As I was explaining a painting, a woman raised her hand and asked "Are you making up all these stories or did you do research?" I calmly replied that I did, in fact, research everything and wasn't giving any personal opinions. The funny part was looking at the faces of other people who were clearly astounded that someone would ask such a question. Guess that woman never developed that adult filter that keeps most of us from saying whatever pops in our head. She'd probably be a great surrealist since surrealism is often based on "what just pops into our heads"!
When looking at optical illusions everyone's brain works differently. Some folks easily see both pictures in an optical illustion, others just can't. Middle school kids will exclaim "I see it!" or will blurt out "Show me! I don't get it!". Middle school kids eagerly move to another location when I suggest that they might see the illusion better from some other perspective. The adults last night all assured me that they did, in fact, see all the illusions and no one ever left their chair. I don't believe them! Adults just won't admit they don't get something.
After the presentation I was first approached by a young man displaying traits of Asperger's syndrome. He wanted information on all the books I had on display. When I suggested he just copy the title, author, publisher etc. right then, he determinedly requested that I send the information to him. It was obvious that his brain just works differently and he couldn't wrap himself around the idea of writing down information. He has been a faithful attendee and has been very interested in each artist....just approaches things in different ways.
Then a young couple who had been to Dalí's home in Figueres, Spain shared their enthusiasm and details about the crazy home. That was fun!
Then an older man told me that he had a Dalí drawing and wondered if I knew how he could find out if it was authentic. (There are lots of Dalí forgeries out there.) I laughed to myself. As though I know ANYTHING about owning fine art! Definitely out of my league.
The final conversation was with an attractive older woman who told me she owns the twelve paintings representing the twelve tribes of Israel that Dalí made at the request of the Israeli government at the time the nation was established in 1948! She went on at length explaining how Dalí researched the history of each tribe by reading the Talmud (her words) and how each painting reflects the different personality of each tribe. She explained how Dalí incorporated authentic views of the Israeli terrain...which, incidently, really resemble Dalí's beloved Catalonian terrain. She had wondered for years about the value of these paintings and had finally, last week, had them evaluated by Sothebys. She didn't yet know the value but wondered aloud what she should do with them.
I, of course, stood there with my mouth agape! I think Ken and I are wildly extravagant when we hire someone to wash our windows. (This expense, of course, is MUCH less than we'd pay in divorce attorney's fees if we had to wash our windows ourselves. We tried that in year one of our marriage and it was ugly!) We are incredibly prosperous because we were able to buy a DVR this year. Unbelievably, we now own three cars. Somehow our comfortable economic situation pales in comparison to this woman calmly telling me about the multi-million dollar treasures in her home.
I'm not in any way jealous of this woman. I'm just blown away by the utter calmness with which some people are able to talk about possessions or opportunities that are so beyond my reach.
I'm also blown away by the collective wisdom and experience that's in any group. We sure can't judge what's in people's minds or experience from just looking at a group of casually dressed folks in the library auditorium on a random Tuesday evening!
After years of working with adolescents, it is still a delightful adventure to work with adults. They listen and at least feign interest---although I do catch the occasional teacher texting or checking e-mail during my BER seminars. Even adults, however, "say the darndest things." Dalís' paintings are immensely complicated and often include myriad optical illusions. As I was explaining a painting, a woman raised her hand and asked "Are you making up all these stories or did you do research?" I calmly replied that I did, in fact, research everything and wasn't giving any personal opinions. The funny part was looking at the faces of other people who were clearly astounded that someone would ask such a question. Guess that woman never developed that adult filter that keeps most of us from saying whatever pops in our head. She'd probably be a great surrealist since surrealism is often based on "what just pops into our heads"!
When looking at optical illusions everyone's brain works differently. Some folks easily see both pictures in an optical illustion, others just can't. Middle school kids will exclaim "I see it!" or will blurt out "Show me! I don't get it!". Middle school kids eagerly move to another location when I suggest that they might see the illusion better from some other perspective. The adults last night all assured me that they did, in fact, see all the illusions and no one ever left their chair. I don't believe them! Adults just won't admit they don't get something.
After the presentation I was first approached by a young man displaying traits of Asperger's syndrome. He wanted information on all the books I had on display. When I suggested he just copy the title, author, publisher etc. right then, he determinedly requested that I send the information to him. It was obvious that his brain just works differently and he couldn't wrap himself around the idea of writing down information. He has been a faithful attendee and has been very interested in each artist....just approaches things in different ways.
Then a young couple who had been to Dalí's home in Figueres, Spain shared their enthusiasm and details about the crazy home. That was fun!
Then an older man told me that he had a Dalí drawing and wondered if I knew how he could find out if it was authentic. (There are lots of Dalí forgeries out there.) I laughed to myself. As though I know ANYTHING about owning fine art! Definitely out of my league.
The final conversation was with an attractive older woman who told me she owns the twelve paintings representing the twelve tribes of Israel that Dalí made at the request of the Israeli government at the time the nation was established in 1948! She went on at length explaining how Dalí researched the history of each tribe by reading the Talmud (her words) and how each painting reflects the different personality of each tribe. She explained how Dalí incorporated authentic views of the Israeli terrain...which, incidently, really resemble Dalí's beloved Catalonian terrain. She had wondered for years about the value of these paintings and had finally, last week, had them evaluated by Sothebys. She didn't yet know the value but wondered aloud what she should do with them.
I, of course, stood there with my mouth agape! I think Ken and I are wildly extravagant when we hire someone to wash our windows. (This expense, of course, is MUCH less than we'd pay in divorce attorney's fees if we had to wash our windows ourselves. We tried that in year one of our marriage and it was ugly!) We are incredibly prosperous because we were able to buy a DVR this year. Unbelievably, we now own three cars. Somehow our comfortable economic situation pales in comparison to this woman calmly telling me about the multi-million dollar treasures in her home.
I'm not in any way jealous of this woman. I'm just blown away by the utter calmness with which some people are able to talk about possessions or opportunities that are so beyond my reach.
I'm also blown away by the collective wisdom and experience that's in any group. We sure can't judge what's in people's minds or experience from just looking at a group of casually dressed folks in the library auditorium on a random Tuesday evening!
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Where are my flippers and caulifower?
Tonight is the last class in the Spanish art series I have been giving at the library. Tonight will be Dalí and I know it will be fun pointing out all the optical illusions in many of his works. I also know the audience will laugh appropriately when I tell some of the goofy stories about Dalí. Did you know he once arrived at a speaking engagement in a limousine filled with cauliflower? Another time he gave a talk while dressed in full scuba gear. Who else would carve a fully functional telephone with a totally realistic looking lobster for the ear piece?
Think I should pull out the old flippers and face mask to wear tonight?
I have a mug from the Dalí museum in St. Petersburg, FL that says, La sola diferencia entre un loco y yo es que yo no estoy loco - the only difference between me and a crazy person is that I'm not crazy. Man, is that true! Dalí was an absolute genius. I can't fathom how one paints optical illusions - over and over again. He painted a sea urchin at the bottom of his painting of Columbus' discovery of the New World. This sea urchin represents man's future landing on the moon...and it looks just like the surface of the moon that man did visit many years later. How did he know what it would look like? In one of his paintings he sneaks in reminders of Velásquez' works. In others he has all kinds of symbols of physics and thermodynamics. Then he has unbelievably details and symbolic religious pictures - always with his wife's face on the Virgin Mary.
So when Dalí relaxed at night in his sofa that looked like a set of luscious lips or went to sleep in his comfortable coffin, was he laughing to himself "Look what I put over on people today!" ? Or was he oblivious to his extreme attention getting behavior? Or was his lifestyle and creative genius just ho-hum ordinary to him? Was he totally comfortable in his own skin?
How different is that behavior from today's rock stars who perform in weird clothing while fire works shoot off around them? How different is that style from the people with tatoos covering every inch of their bodies?
How different is that from a person who writes a blog to get some attention :-)
Think I should pull out the old flippers and face mask to wear tonight?
I have a mug from the Dalí museum in St. Petersburg, FL that says, La sola diferencia entre un loco y yo es que yo no estoy loco - the only difference between me and a crazy person is that I'm not crazy. Man, is that true! Dalí was an absolute genius. I can't fathom how one paints optical illusions - over and over again. He painted a sea urchin at the bottom of his painting of Columbus' discovery of the New World. This sea urchin represents man's future landing on the moon...and it looks just like the surface of the moon that man did visit many years later. How did he know what it would look like? In one of his paintings he sneaks in reminders of Velásquez' works. In others he has all kinds of symbols of physics and thermodynamics. Then he has unbelievably details and symbolic religious pictures - always with his wife's face on the Virgin Mary.
So when Dalí relaxed at night in his sofa that looked like a set of luscious lips or went to sleep in his comfortable coffin, was he laughing to himself "Look what I put over on people today!" ? Or was he oblivious to his extreme attention getting behavior? Or was his lifestyle and creative genius just ho-hum ordinary to him? Was he totally comfortable in his own skin?
How different is that behavior from today's rock stars who perform in weird clothing while fire works shoot off around them? How different is that style from the people with tatoos covering every inch of their bodies?
How different is that from a person who writes a blog to get some attention :-)
Sunday, May 17, 2009
I've Been Called a Ding-a-ling!
They say that people should continue to learn new things as they get older. Well since age 60, I've learned to knit, have done thousands of crossword puzzles, have become fairly proficient at Power Point, and struggle with Rosetta Stone French. By far the most satisfying and brain-expanding new adventure, however, has been hand-bells.
When I was "strong-armed" to join the hand bell choir a few years ago I was assured that all I needed to know was how to count to four. They lied!! Actually sometimes we have to count to six or eight. Sometimes we have to count 1-and-2-and-3-and. Sometimes we even count 1-and-a, 2-and-a, 3-and-a. Sometimes we change keys multiple times in a piece which means rapidly changing to other bells for the sharps or flats. Sometimes we change tempo several times in a piece. It's not easy, but, oh, is it fun.
The cool thing about bells is that everyone is critical to the success of the piece. If I make a mistake while singing, chances are no one will notice except the person sitting next to me. If I make a mistake with bells, it sounds awful or there is a giant empty spot where a bell should have sounded or there is a very weird sound of a bell pealing when it should be quiet. We all really have to work together.
Not too many things in life really require that level of working together. I'm glad I get to do it and that my other "ding-a-lings" are fun to do it with! I'll miss it over the summer!
Hope my brain doesn't atrophy from lack of ding-dong challenges!
When I was "strong-armed" to join the hand bell choir a few years ago I was assured that all I needed to know was how to count to four. They lied!! Actually sometimes we have to count to six or eight. Sometimes we have to count 1-and-2-and-3-and. Sometimes we even count 1-and-a, 2-and-a, 3-and-a. Sometimes we change keys multiple times in a piece which means rapidly changing to other bells for the sharps or flats. Sometimes we change tempo several times in a piece. It's not easy, but, oh, is it fun.
The cool thing about bells is that everyone is critical to the success of the piece. If I make a mistake while singing, chances are no one will notice except the person sitting next to me. If I make a mistake with bells, it sounds awful or there is a giant empty spot where a bell should have sounded or there is a very weird sound of a bell pealing when it should be quiet. We all really have to work together.
Not too many things in life really require that level of working together. I'm glad I get to do it and that my other "ding-a-lings" are fun to do it with! I'll miss it over the summer!
Hope my brain doesn't atrophy from lack of ding-dong challenges!
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Balloons
When I entered Rosewood this morning I saw Sarah in her usual spot in the lobby. Sarah is usually asleep in a chair by the window, her walker hanging with multiple bags and baskets in front of her. Sarah has a rather attractive red wig but, unfortunately, she has to hold it on with multiple bobby pins at her hairline which detracts a bit from the effect. Sarah is the mail deliverer for the building and she takes that job very seriously. After the incoming mail has been sorted she walks the halls delivering it to each guest double and triple checking that the right person is getting the right mail. I've seen Sarah dancing joyfully with the one mobile man at a couple of Rosewood "parties." She is, to use one of Lisa's descriptors, "quirky".
Today Sarah had a red and a green balloon tied to her walker. For some reason she had received a couple balloons left over from yesterday's "National Nursing Home Week" party. (I'm not making that up!)
As I walked toward Mom's room I passed the assisted area---the dining/day room for people who need supervision during the day and help to eat. Most of the time these people are either asleep or are blankly staring into space. Today, however, a nursing assistant and two residents were playing with a ballon. They were "bopping" the balloon back and forth to each other. The residents, whom I thought were completely "out of it", were engaged and smiling---just like our boys were excited when we did the same thing with them when they were little.
What is this power of balloons?
People routinely put pink or blue balloons in front of their homes to announce a birth. Balloons announce "Here's the party." We displayed purple balloons in front of the house when David was accepted into Northwestern and then did it again when Kevin had the same good news. A Happy Birthday latex balloon can last for months and continue to remind the recipient that someone cares for them.
A lot of happiness from some simple latex. How cool is that!
Today Sarah had a red and a green balloon tied to her walker. For some reason she had received a couple balloons left over from yesterday's "National Nursing Home Week" party. (I'm not making that up!)
As I walked toward Mom's room I passed the assisted area---the dining/day room for people who need supervision during the day and help to eat. Most of the time these people are either asleep or are blankly staring into space. Today, however, a nursing assistant and two residents were playing with a ballon. They were "bopping" the balloon back and forth to each other. The residents, whom I thought were completely "out of it", were engaged and smiling---just like our boys were excited when we did the same thing with them when they were little.
What is this power of balloons?
People routinely put pink or blue balloons in front of their homes to announce a birth. Balloons announce "Here's the party." We displayed purple balloons in front of the house when David was accepted into Northwestern and then did it again when Kevin had the same good news. A Happy Birthday latex balloon can last for months and continue to remind the recipient that someone cares for them.
A lot of happiness from some simple latex. How cool is that!
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Wonderful Surprise!
I had just posted today's procrastination blog when I got the most wonderful news!
Kevin was just invited to participate in the Music Institute of the West in Santa Barbara this summer! He will study with two top percussionists, perform in the orchestra, have a place and plenty of time to practice, and be in a beautiful spot to boot! He will even earn some money. He is ecstatic.
As has happened at other auditions, Kevin was an alternate for this program. None of the percussionists who won the audition dropped out. He was sure he was stuck in Northbrook for the summer. Then recently, many weeks later after the withdrawal date, someone won a full-time orchestra job which starts this summer and Kevin is in.
God does love surprises!
As I look back on my life so far I'm just blown away by how God's plan has played out for me. Many doors shut only for better ones to be opened. I didn't see the plan as it was unfolding.
Why am I so blown away when I see the same sorts of things happening to Kevin?
Keep on surprising us, God! Thank you!
Kevin was just invited to participate in the Music Institute of the West in Santa Barbara this summer! He will study with two top percussionists, perform in the orchestra, have a place and plenty of time to practice, and be in a beautiful spot to boot! He will even earn some money. He is ecstatic.
As has happened at other auditions, Kevin was an alternate for this program. None of the percussionists who won the audition dropped out. He was sure he was stuck in Northbrook for the summer. Then recently, many weeks later after the withdrawal date, someone won a full-time orchestra job which starts this summer and Kevin is in.
God does love surprises!
As I look back on my life so far I'm just blown away by how God's plan has played out for me. Many doors shut only for better ones to be opened. I didn't see the plan as it was unfolding.
Why am I so blown away when I see the same sorts of things happening to Kevin?
Keep on surprising us, God! Thank you!
Paying for Procrastination
Good news, bad news
The good news is that I just got a request to do an "on-site" BER seminar in early August.
The bad news is that I just got a request to do an "on-site" BER seminar in early August.
So, I did actually spend a good chunk of yesterday working on my "Conversation" seminar handbook. I was feeling optimistic that I could finish up the handbook and have it in by July. Then BER would have adequate time to print the new handbooks for an already scheduled "Conversation" seminar in mid-August. I'd still have plenty of time to make the necessary changes to the Power Point and "script" for "Conversation" and revise the "Differentiation" handbook during July and August. No sweat!
So, today I get the new on-site request. Cool! Except it's for the "Differentiation" seminar! This is the one that needs the most work...and I won't have August to work on it!
So, I'm paying for procrastination and will now go to the basement work area to repent for my sins.
By the way, the AUGUST on-site seminars are in El Paso and Atlanta! They couldn't schedule those in January???
The good news is that I just got a request to do an "on-site" BER seminar in early August.
The bad news is that I just got a request to do an "on-site" BER seminar in early August.
So, I did actually spend a good chunk of yesterday working on my "Conversation" seminar handbook. I was feeling optimistic that I could finish up the handbook and have it in by July. Then BER would have adequate time to print the new handbooks for an already scheduled "Conversation" seminar in mid-August. I'd still have plenty of time to make the necessary changes to the Power Point and "script" for "Conversation" and revise the "Differentiation" handbook during July and August. No sweat!
So, today I get the new on-site request. Cool! Except it's for the "Differentiation" seminar! This is the one that needs the most work...and I won't have August to work on it!
So, I'm paying for procrastination and will now go to the basement work area to repent for my sins.
By the way, the AUGUST on-site seminars are in El Paso and Atlanta! They couldn't schedule those in January???
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Procrastination
Spanish has a saying, "Obra empezada, media acabada"....a work that is begun is half done. But how hard it is to begin!
When I returned from my last BER seminars in March, I put the suitcase containing all my FCK (BER's code for one seminar) "stuff" on the table in the basement.
From about February until today I piled any BER related thing I "wanted to deal with later" on the desk in the basement: new ideas, contracts, ideas from websites or teachers, articles, corrections, etc. It became a prodigious pile!
Every week since March I have dutifully written "Unpack FCK" and "make book changes" on my to-do list, but every week something has gotten in the way. Yes, many necessary things get in the way of working on BER: visits to my mother, food shopping, the house, the laundry, the family, the call committee, preparing for and teaching Art classes, exercise, hand bells and choir. Somehow I've also magically found time to spend three days in Michigan, shop for clothes, plan the Paris trip, work with the evil Rosetta Stone, have dinner with friends, attend concerts, and write this blog. Those activities, however, have not taken up every available time slot....in fact there have been many hours of available time. Have I even gone to the basement? No! Have I read every inch of the paper, played computer Scrabble, taken naps, watched stupid TV, repeatedly checked e-mail, or told myself I'd start BER stuff tomorrow? Yes!
Now deadlines are coming up. Revisions to both handbooks are due by September 1 and I want to make substantial revisions to both seminars.....not an insignificant task.
So today I ran out of excuses and actually ventured into the basement. In less than 1 1/2 hours I got all the presentation materials returned to their plastic bins, made neat piles of materials for both seminars, tossed or filed all sorts of miscellaneous papers, printed the new handbook guidelines, and even changed an ink cartridge. I'm good to go.
Obra empezada, media acabada. It took no time to get organized....I'm half way there!
I WILL find the basement again tomorrow. No Ojos que no ven, corazon que no siente (Out of sight, out of mind) for this procrastinator!
No, it will be Más vale tarde que nunca. Better late than never.
Hmmmm.....seems all these sayings exisit in some form in most languages. Could it be that I'm not the only procrastinator in the world?
When I returned from my last BER seminars in March, I put the suitcase containing all my FCK (BER's code for one seminar) "stuff" on the table in the basement.
From about February until today I piled any BER related thing I "wanted to deal with later" on the desk in the basement: new ideas, contracts, ideas from websites or teachers, articles, corrections, etc. It became a prodigious pile!
Every week since March I have dutifully written "Unpack FCK" and "make book changes" on my to-do list, but every week something has gotten in the way. Yes, many necessary things get in the way of working on BER: visits to my mother, food shopping, the house, the laundry, the family, the call committee, preparing for and teaching Art classes, exercise, hand bells and choir. Somehow I've also magically found time to spend three days in Michigan, shop for clothes, plan the Paris trip, work with the evil Rosetta Stone, have dinner with friends, attend concerts, and write this blog. Those activities, however, have not taken up every available time slot....in fact there have been many hours of available time. Have I even gone to the basement? No! Have I read every inch of the paper, played computer Scrabble, taken naps, watched stupid TV, repeatedly checked e-mail, or told myself I'd start BER stuff tomorrow? Yes!
Now deadlines are coming up. Revisions to both handbooks are due by September 1 and I want to make substantial revisions to both seminars.....not an insignificant task.
So today I ran out of excuses and actually ventured into the basement. In less than 1 1/2 hours I got all the presentation materials returned to their plastic bins, made neat piles of materials for both seminars, tossed or filed all sorts of miscellaneous papers, printed the new handbook guidelines, and even changed an ink cartridge. I'm good to go.
Obra empezada, media acabada. It took no time to get organized....I'm half way there!
I WILL find the basement again tomorrow. No Ojos que no ven, corazon que no siente (Out of sight, out of mind) for this procrastinator!
No, it will be Más vale tarde que nunca. Better late than never.
Hmmmm.....seems all these sayings exisit in some form in most languages. Could it be that I'm not the only procrastinator in the world?
Monday, May 11, 2009
Ground Rules
I'm reading an absolutely fascinating book, Escape, by Carolyn Jessop. She tells of growing up in the Fundamental Latter Day Saints church, being coerced into marriage with a man 32 years her senior when she was only 18, living with 5 other wives and dozens of children, and eventually escaping with her 8 children. Her reports to the Utah attorney general on church abuses helped convict Warren Jeffs, their notorious leader.
Growing up with the name Mohrman, my classmates always looked at me and snickered when the Mormon religion was occasionally mentioned at school. Ed and Judy had Mormon neighbors in Arizona and I've taught a number of delightful, bright Mormon kids. French teacher friend Jill and I toured Temple Square when we were in Salt Lake City for a conference. Supposedly a great aunt of mine converted to Mormonism in her old age. We used to wonder if she had had us baptised by proxy into that faith. Last year fundamentalist Mormons made the news in Texas when the government swooped in to remove and eventually return children suspected of being abused to their polygamous homes.
None of that background prepared me for this book. The author speaks of terrible abuse by her mother, who whipped her children repeatedly because that was what she was expected to do to train them. Girls were rarely allowed to go to school past high school. The "prophet" would decide which girl should marry which man and marriages took place within a day or two of being informed. Almost without warning girls were snatched from their homes and sent to be the wife of men much older than they. The wives in the author's polygamous home were always fighting with each other for privileges and nights with the husband. The dozens of children were often left in dangerous situations with only the older children to supervise them.
I guess I'm blown away by this book because, not only is it true, the events took place in this century - the 21st century! In this country. Under our noses.
The other fascinating idea is that the author frequently mentions how miserable she was and how awful the living conditions were, but also repeatedly says that her faith remained strong and she didn't question the rules of the religion. That just shows the amazing power parents have in teaching their culture to their children.
On a much less horrendous scale, I grew up fully believing that the Republican party is the correct one, that only men could be pastors, that there was "girls' work" and "boys' work" around the house, that my brother's education was more important than mine "because he would work all his life", that you'd never buy anything on credit, that it was best to be of German heritage, and that teen-agers would never be allowed to dance on church property. These weren't stated "rules", they were just part of the culture. I started questioning these beliefs in later adolescence, but sure never doubted any of that when younger.
I wonder what ground rules Ken and I subconsciously taught David and Kevin. I wonder what they have rejected. I wonder what they will teach their children.
Growing up with the name Mohrman, my classmates always looked at me and snickered when the Mormon religion was occasionally mentioned at school. Ed and Judy had Mormon neighbors in Arizona and I've taught a number of delightful, bright Mormon kids. French teacher friend Jill and I toured Temple Square when we were in Salt Lake City for a conference. Supposedly a great aunt of mine converted to Mormonism in her old age. We used to wonder if she had had us baptised by proxy into that faith. Last year fundamentalist Mormons made the news in Texas when the government swooped in to remove and eventually return children suspected of being abused to their polygamous homes.
None of that background prepared me for this book. The author speaks of terrible abuse by her mother, who whipped her children repeatedly because that was what she was expected to do to train them. Girls were rarely allowed to go to school past high school. The "prophet" would decide which girl should marry which man and marriages took place within a day or two of being informed. Almost without warning girls were snatched from their homes and sent to be the wife of men much older than they. The wives in the author's polygamous home were always fighting with each other for privileges and nights with the husband. The dozens of children were often left in dangerous situations with only the older children to supervise them.
I guess I'm blown away by this book because, not only is it true, the events took place in this century - the 21st century! In this country. Under our noses.
The other fascinating idea is that the author frequently mentions how miserable she was and how awful the living conditions were, but also repeatedly says that her faith remained strong and she didn't question the rules of the religion. That just shows the amazing power parents have in teaching their culture to their children.
On a much less horrendous scale, I grew up fully believing that the Republican party is the correct one, that only men could be pastors, that there was "girls' work" and "boys' work" around the house, that my brother's education was more important than mine "because he would work all his life", that you'd never buy anything on credit, that it was best to be of German heritage, and that teen-agers would never be allowed to dance on church property. These weren't stated "rules", they were just part of the culture. I started questioning these beliefs in later adolescence, but sure never doubted any of that when younger.
I wonder what ground rules Ken and I subconsciously taught David and Kevin. I wonder what they have rejected. I wonder what they will teach their children.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Not the Sunday Comics
Since I have been a mother I've always found Mother's Day a little weird. In the Sunday comics the husband and young children always prepare breakfast in bed for mom. Then the parents and adorable little children go off together to church, the park, or some other place to frolic together. Who would not love such a beautiful scenario?
The reality is that not all women who want to be moms are moms. Thankfully, most moms have their own moms and their moms-in-law to consider in the Mother's Day plans, but some don't. Other moms have their daughters or daughters-in-law who are also moms to consider in their plans, but some don't. Many moms don't live near their adult children. Then, of course, there are the moms who, for all sorts of awful reasons, are not moms their children want to honor.
I'm long past the scenario I described in the first paragraph. In fact, that never happened even when the kids were young, and I'm just as happy. This mom, even then, would much rather eat her cereal at the table with the newspaper and coffee! The frolicking with the adorable little children usually didn't happen either because most Mother's Days involved either travel to see Ken's parents or preparing to host them at our house......and that was as it should have been! Meanwhile, Ed and Judy were hosting or being hosted by my parents and phone calls were exchanged between Northbrook and Sun City.
So, how did today's Mother's Day play out?
It started with Ken and I at our church. Later I visited a nearby church to hear the sermon of a possible pastoral candidate. At both churches the pastor was so very careful to wish a happy day to all mothers, to all god-mothers, to all grandmothers, to all women who care for children, to anyone who in any way has ever done something mother-like to another human being. I exaggerate, but don't criticize. It's more than political correctness - the church, thankfully, is past the days when mothers were honored right up there with God and non-mothers felt like garbage. As someone who married "late", I felt that more than once!
Then I picked up my mother and brought her home. She was cheerful, alert, and conversed happily, but there were painful moments for me. One is never prepared to watch one's mother struggle to get from the wheel chair to the car, or to have to help her in the bathroom worried that--in spite of Ken and I both holding on--she would fall while walking the few steps from the door to the toilet. Fortunately, we had no disasters.
Ken cooked his wonderful ribs and we dished out the deli salads purchased at the "scary" local supermarket for a different group of "family."---my mom, David, Lisa, Kevin, and Lisa's parents Barb and John. We celebrated Mother's Day as well as Lisa's upcoming "big" birthday. We had a quick meal, then D,L, B and J were off to the airport and Kevin was off to work and my Mom was back at Rosewood....and I was reading the paper on the couch!
Not the Sunday comics' Mother's Day but good anyway. Not many women have their mom around when they are themselves in their sixties. Not many women have adult children nearby. Not all women have a husband, sons and a daughter-in-law who go out of their way to tend to their mother-in-law/grandmother. Not everyone gets along with - let alone enjoys - spending time with a son's in-laws. Not the Sunday comics, but good anyway!
The reality is that not all women who want to be moms are moms. Thankfully, most moms have their own moms and their moms-in-law to consider in the Mother's Day plans, but some don't. Other moms have their daughters or daughters-in-law who are also moms to consider in their plans, but some don't. Many moms don't live near their adult children. Then, of course, there are the moms who, for all sorts of awful reasons, are not moms their children want to honor.
I'm long past the scenario I described in the first paragraph. In fact, that never happened even when the kids were young, and I'm just as happy. This mom, even then, would much rather eat her cereal at the table with the newspaper and coffee! The frolicking with the adorable little children usually didn't happen either because most Mother's Days involved either travel to see Ken's parents or preparing to host them at our house......and that was as it should have been! Meanwhile, Ed and Judy were hosting or being hosted by my parents and phone calls were exchanged between Northbrook and Sun City.
So, how did today's Mother's Day play out?
It started with Ken and I at our church. Later I visited a nearby church to hear the sermon of a possible pastoral candidate. At both churches the pastor was so very careful to wish a happy day to all mothers, to all god-mothers, to all grandmothers, to all women who care for children, to anyone who in any way has ever done something mother-like to another human being. I exaggerate, but don't criticize. It's more than political correctness - the church, thankfully, is past the days when mothers were honored right up there with God and non-mothers felt like garbage. As someone who married "late", I felt that more than once!
Then I picked up my mother and brought her home. She was cheerful, alert, and conversed happily, but there were painful moments for me. One is never prepared to watch one's mother struggle to get from the wheel chair to the car, or to have to help her in the bathroom worried that--in spite of Ken and I both holding on--she would fall while walking the few steps from the door to the toilet. Fortunately, we had no disasters.
Ken cooked his wonderful ribs and we dished out the deli salads purchased at the "scary" local supermarket for a different group of "family."---my mom, David, Lisa, Kevin, and Lisa's parents Barb and John. We celebrated Mother's Day as well as Lisa's upcoming "big" birthday. We had a quick meal, then D,L, B and J were off to the airport and Kevin was off to work and my Mom was back at Rosewood....and I was reading the paper on the couch!
Not the Sunday comics' Mother's Day but good anyway. Not many women have their mom around when they are themselves in their sixties. Not many women have adult children nearby. Not all women have a husband, sons and a daughter-in-law who go out of their way to tend to their mother-in-law/grandmother. Not everyone gets along with - let alone enjoys - spending time with a son's in-laws. Not the Sunday comics, but good anyway!
Friday, May 8, 2009
Spring Has Sprung
A former colleague transplanted to Raleigh, NC recently complained in an e-mail that they don't get Spring--just go from winter to hot and humid. Although we've considered building arks during this rainy Spring, there are certainly some wonderful things about this time of year in the midwest!
- Baby Geese: Yes, they will grow up to be disgusting geese, but it was sure fun to see several groups of fuzzy yellow goslings "toddling around" the lake during our walk this morning.
- Aromas: I took my mother for a walk around her building this morning. I felt bad that age has robbed her of her sense of smell because I was practically getting drunk on the aromas from the crab apple trees and honeysuckle bushes.
- Mail Carriers Wearing Shorts: I feel like raising my arm in victory and shouting "yes!" when I see them able to actually enjoy their walking!
- Pansies: In this climate pansies rule in Spring! They thrive in spite of rain, occasional freezes, and wind. They don't come and go in a flash as do the tulips and daffodils, but show their smiling faces from April until it finally gets consistenly hot in late June.
- Park Districk Brochures: Yes! Water aerobics OUTSIDE will soon be here!
- Girl Stuff: No baby or bridal showers for me to attend this year, but I am going to the Lutheran Social Services of Illinois brunch and fashion show tomorrow with Lisa and her mom. Hooray for daughters-in-law and the opportunity for Moms of sons to do girl stuff with the special women who love their male offspring!
- Sandals: Oh, how happy my toes are to escape!
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Community
A pastoral candidate from a nearby state is coming to interview this evening. To avoid driving in rush hour traffic, this individual is coming at 4:00 and two of us are going to take the candidate on a driving tour of the area before the entire committee meets for the interview.
If I were "showing off" our area to a young family, I'd show the wonderful parks, Kohl Childrens' Museum, and many of the schools. If I were trying to sell a house to a wealthy business person, I'd drive through the many high-end neighborhoods and show them Nordstroms and country clubs. What does one show to a potential pastor?
As I think about this sight-seeing tour, I realize that I see my community through my own personal filter.
There are wealthy people--friends--in the congregation who live in McMansions. I rarely visit those folks in their homes and, no matter how gracious they are, I am uncomfortable when I do. By the same token, I am extremely uncomfortable in the local independent grocery store where "everyone" shops. This store is known for its personal service: they will order anything for you, they always load your groceries into your car for you, and they even have people whose job is to take the items out of your cart and put them on the conveyor belt for you! As much as everyone loves this store, my stomach churns when I go there (which I do during the summer because they are the only store that has good deli potato salad) because I am so terribly uncomfortable with the obsequiousness. I guess I just can't get past my ordinary city kid upbringing.
A pastor, of course, will minister to folks who live in McMansions, folks who live in ordinary houses and some folks who live in the trailor park. So we will drive through all those areas.
According to the demographics which are included in our "congregational profile", the great majority of people in Northbrook and Glenview are Christian. I'd like to know how that data was collected, because I know that simply is not true. I would guess that around 50% of Northbrook families have at least one Jewish family member. Many are mixed-religion families, many are not observant, many are also Russian. Many of the Christians are also Korean. There's a large mosque just down the road. I would venture that most folks, however, are simply not religious.
Most of the time I live in sort of a bubble in this multi-religion, multi-cultural town. I hang out with my teacher and church friends...almost all church-going caucasion Christians. A pastor, obviously, would hang out in the same sort of bubble, but he/she needs to be aware of what the community really is, not what the demographics sheet says. So we will drive past the mosque, by the temples, by the many signs indicating Korean churches, as well as the "competition"--the other Christian churches. The candidate needs to know how "ripe the fields" are in this community.
We'll show the pastor some of the schools, but in reality a pastor will spend a lot of time in other neighborhood locations that are not usually advertised by real estate agents. We'll see the hospitals, we'll drive past "Ascension West" - the nearby assisted living establishment, we'll point out "our" funeral home, and maybe drive past the HUD senior apartments and maybe end with Rosewood or another nursing home. Unfortunately, my "bubble" takes me to these places more often than to the upscale shopping malls or clubs.
This candidate knows mid-western weather so we don't have to explain how unusual our current beautiful Spring weather is, but maybe we'll have time to show-off the Botanic Gardens. Maybe in the midst of seeing all the challenges implicit in ministry in this area, the candidate can also see a wonderful place to meditate on God's wonderful creation!
If I were "showing off" our area to a young family, I'd show the wonderful parks, Kohl Childrens' Museum, and many of the schools. If I were trying to sell a house to a wealthy business person, I'd drive through the many high-end neighborhoods and show them Nordstroms and country clubs. What does one show to a potential pastor?
As I think about this sight-seeing tour, I realize that I see my community through my own personal filter.
There are wealthy people--friends--in the congregation who live in McMansions. I rarely visit those folks in their homes and, no matter how gracious they are, I am uncomfortable when I do. By the same token, I am extremely uncomfortable in the local independent grocery store where "everyone" shops. This store is known for its personal service: they will order anything for you, they always load your groceries into your car for you, and they even have people whose job is to take the items out of your cart and put them on the conveyor belt for you! As much as everyone loves this store, my stomach churns when I go there (which I do during the summer because they are the only store that has good deli potato salad) because I am so terribly uncomfortable with the obsequiousness. I guess I just can't get past my ordinary city kid upbringing.
A pastor, of course, will minister to folks who live in McMansions, folks who live in ordinary houses and some folks who live in the trailor park. So we will drive through all those areas.
According to the demographics which are included in our "congregational profile", the great majority of people in Northbrook and Glenview are Christian. I'd like to know how that data was collected, because I know that simply is not true. I would guess that around 50% of Northbrook families have at least one Jewish family member. Many are mixed-religion families, many are not observant, many are also Russian. Many of the Christians are also Korean. There's a large mosque just down the road. I would venture that most folks, however, are simply not religious.
Most of the time I live in sort of a bubble in this multi-religion, multi-cultural town. I hang out with my teacher and church friends...almost all church-going caucasion Christians. A pastor, obviously, would hang out in the same sort of bubble, but he/she needs to be aware of what the community really is, not what the demographics sheet says. So we will drive past the mosque, by the temples, by the many signs indicating Korean churches, as well as the "competition"--the other Christian churches. The candidate needs to know how "ripe the fields" are in this community.
We'll show the pastor some of the schools, but in reality a pastor will spend a lot of time in other neighborhood locations that are not usually advertised by real estate agents. We'll see the hospitals, we'll drive past "Ascension West" - the nearby assisted living establishment, we'll point out "our" funeral home, and maybe drive past the HUD senior apartments and maybe end with Rosewood or another nursing home. Unfortunately, my "bubble" takes me to these places more often than to the upscale shopping malls or clubs.
This candidate knows mid-western weather so we don't have to explain how unusual our current beautiful Spring weather is, but maybe we'll have time to show-off the Botanic Gardens. Maybe in the midst of seeing all the challenges implicit in ministry in this area, the candidate can also see a wonderful place to meditate on God's wonderful creation!
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Bonjour Rosetta Stone
My niece Nancy frequently reports on the ridiculously funny but normal conversations she often has with her three year old son. Today I had a similar conversation with my 86 year old mother!
Mom: So what did you do so far today?
Me: Well, I worked this morning on my Rosetta Stone French.
Mom: Oh, that was on Jeopardy today.
Me: I imagine the Rosetta stone they were referring to was the famous giant carved Egyptian stone.
Mom: Were the carvings in French?
Me: No, the real Rosetta stone helped archeologists figure out the meanings of the Egyptian hieroglyphics. Do you remember Ken telling of touching the Rosetta Stone when he was in London?
Mom: So, are you going to London?
Me: No, I'm studying French so that I can be semi-literate when we go to Paris. Rosetta Stone is a computer program that helps me learn French.
Mom: So are you learning French from a book?
Me: No, I'm using the computer. Rosetta Stone is the name that a company gave to its programs for learning foreign languages.
Mom: And you're learning French from this company?
......Later I mentioned stopping at Barnes and Nobel to pick up a French phrase book.
Mom: So how can you look up things in the French phrase book if you don't know French?
Me: It's alphabetical. So if I'm in a restaurant and want to make sure I'm not ordering brains or kidneys for dinner, I can look up the word and it will tell me what it is in English.
Mom was 100% rational. I think I was rational. Our English language is not!
Au Revoir - Need to spend more time with that Egyptian London based Rosetta Stone book or program that is used to learn French!
Mom: So what did you do so far today?
Me: Well, I worked this morning on my Rosetta Stone French.
Mom: Oh, that was on Jeopardy today.
Me: I imagine the Rosetta stone they were referring to was the famous giant carved Egyptian stone.
Mom: Were the carvings in French?
Me: No, the real Rosetta stone helped archeologists figure out the meanings of the Egyptian hieroglyphics. Do you remember Ken telling of touching the Rosetta Stone when he was in London?
Mom: So, are you going to London?
Me: No, I'm studying French so that I can be semi-literate when we go to Paris. Rosetta Stone is a computer program that helps me learn French.
Mom: So are you learning French from a book?
Me: No, I'm using the computer. Rosetta Stone is the name that a company gave to its programs for learning foreign languages.
Mom: And you're learning French from this company?
......Later I mentioned stopping at Barnes and Nobel to pick up a French phrase book.
Mom: So how can you look up things in the French phrase book if you don't know French?
Me: It's alphabetical. So if I'm in a restaurant and want to make sure I'm not ordering brains or kidneys for dinner, I can look up the word and it will tell me what it is in English.
Mom was 100% rational. I think I was rational. Our English language is not!
Au Revoir - Need to spend more time with that Egyptian London based Rosetta Stone book or program that is used to learn French!
Monday, May 4, 2009
Mentors
Kevin and his two colleagues in the Civic Orchestra Percussion Trio presented their concert at our church last Saturday. The church members who attended knew that Kevin is a percussionist and have seen him play marimba on several occasions, but didn't know the scope of percussion. Visitors came because they were intrigued. No one really knew what to expect.
What they got was an incredibly diverse couple of hours of music: some marimba, but also xylophone, vibraphone, congas, drum set, tambourines, pandeiro, snare drums and even hand clapping---sometimes solo instruments, sometimes group efforts. People who had never been to a percussion concert were blown away. People just don't understand all that percussion entails, but now about a hundred more people are in on that secret.
As Kevin's mom, I've watched him develop musically since 4th grade and continue to be amazed by his musical abilities. What blew me away this time, however, is his speaking ability. Kevin was poised and completely comfortable explaining program notes and instrumentation to the audience. He joked, smiled easily and spoke clearly and enthusiastically in spite of reeling from a sad personal event. He has become a true professional.
What a wonderful gift Civic Orchestra has been to him this year! The mentoring he has received as he has learned to make these presentations in schools and other venues throughout the year has really given him a presentation skill that will help people to appreciate and enjoy the wonderful music he has learned to make.
David, too, has benefitted from wonderful mentors at Northwestern who have encouraged his graduate work, pushed him to present and publish, and generally act as his cheerleaders.
I hope that both "boys' " mentors realize and are proud of the immeasurable gifts they have given to their "mentees". As a parent, I'm unbelievably thankful!
What they got was an incredibly diverse couple of hours of music: some marimba, but also xylophone, vibraphone, congas, drum set, tambourines, pandeiro, snare drums and even hand clapping---sometimes solo instruments, sometimes group efforts. People who had never been to a percussion concert were blown away. People just don't understand all that percussion entails, but now about a hundred more people are in on that secret.
As Kevin's mom, I've watched him develop musically since 4th grade and continue to be amazed by his musical abilities. What blew me away this time, however, is his speaking ability. Kevin was poised and completely comfortable explaining program notes and instrumentation to the audience. He joked, smiled easily and spoke clearly and enthusiastically in spite of reeling from a sad personal event. He has become a true professional.
What a wonderful gift Civic Orchestra has been to him this year! The mentoring he has received as he has learned to make these presentations in schools and other venues throughout the year has really given him a presentation skill that will help people to appreciate and enjoy the wonderful music he has learned to make.
David, too, has benefitted from wonderful mentors at Northwestern who have encouraged his graduate work, pushed him to present and publish, and generally act as his cheerleaders.
I hope that both "boys' " mentors realize and are proud of the immeasurable gifts they have given to their "mentees". As a parent, I'm unbelievably thankful!
Friday, May 1, 2009
What I'm Thankful For Today
John Williams, the morning DJ on my radio station, has a regular Friday feature entitled "The Bright Side of Life". During this segment people call in and simply say one thing they are happy about today. Mary Schmich, one of my favorite Chicago Tribune columnists, wrote about what happened when she asked people "What are you happy about today". So I guess I need to answer both of them!
I've spent this afternoon baking tons of cookies for the reception after Kevin's concert at church tomorrow afternoon. I'm thankful for.....
I've spent this afternoon baking tons of cookies for the reception after Kevin's concert at church tomorrow afternoon. I'm thankful for.....
- the smell of warm chocolate chip cookies
- Kitchen Aide mix-masters. Oh why, did I wait about 30 years before getting one?
- the dishwasher
- Kevin living in Chicago and being able to attend his concerts
- a close friend whom I don't get to see very often who will be at the concert tomorrow
- a Jersey Boys CD to listen to all afternoon!
- being able to walk! sharing good friends' lives!
- the peer pressure that keeps me from begging off when I'm tired
- finally being outside!
- the "Perk Café" which provides our post-walk coffee but, more importantly, provides a supportive work environment for special needs adults in the community
- lines that move quickly in spite of huge crowds....always
- being able to get wonderful produce, enough apple juice to keep my mom going for a couple of weeks, and a "just stick in the oven" entree for tonight
- being able to walk around the cavernous store after walking around the lake twice
- Mom being really alert recently. I started to tell her that David is at his "Crack House" in Florida and she finished the story with every detail that David had told her last weekend. (By the way, the "crack house" is an empty house in a subdivision near a quarry. They have placed and monitor computer sensors to see if explosions at the quarry are causing any cracks or problems in a neighboring sub-division. Hence, "crack house")
- her doctor who seems to be on top of every medical need. Even though Dr. M doesn't spend a lot of time patting my mother on the head, her health is more stable than it has been in a long time.
- David's, Nancy's and Tom's blogs....to be part of their lives and thoughts
- Rosetta Stone. In spite of my huge frustration with pronunciation, how cool is it to be able to learn another language in one's kitchen!
- FLteach, a listserv I've joined. How amazing to be able to read the thoughts, ideas, frustrations, concerns and joys of 1000's for foreign language teachers all around the world....delivered to my kitchen!
- Silly pictures and goofy jokes sent by friends. An unexpected giggle in the middle of the day is a good thing. Contact with friends is a better thing!
- a VERY patient husband who has put up with leftover spaghetti three nights this week while I have been off "gallivanting."
- the good progress so far in our Call Committee work...an excellent group of committee members and promising candidates.
- "What Not to Wear" --- Some people watch "Dancing with the Stars", others watch "American Idol", my secret Friday night vice is Stacey and Clinton! Tonight I also get to watch a recorded "Grey's Anatomy", a second vice.
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