I'm fresh from the most fascinating experience. An older family member of mine is now living in an assisted-living facility - perhaps not permanently - but hopefully long enough for her to realize she is safe and secure there, rather than alone at home, prone to falling at all times of the day or night. Trying to convince her that she is living in a better place is a topic for another posting. Let me just say, "It's complicated."
Her new "home" is a beautiful building that once housed a family of seven back in the sixties and seventies. After the original family who built the home moved out, another family bought it but brought with them legal and familial problems that overshadowed the prominent architectural position the home had once held in the small, rural farming community. One more family would purchase the property before the present owners and it was then that it was remodeled into an adult assisted-living facility. Aside from the unfathomably bad decision to paint over ALL the interior mahogany woodwork and cabinets with paint, and an ugly light green to boot, the other transformations were germane to the business of caring for adults who need light supervision but can otherwise live independently.
The present owners are delightful and seem to genuinely enjoy the roles they are now playing - that of host and hostess, care givers, cooks and dishwashers. They will take the time to visit with all......residents and visitors alike. The food is very, very good, the place is as clean as a whistle and - here is the most important part - they are dog owners and the dogs and the residents get to mingle on a regular basis.
Most of the residents are in their mid-to-late nineties - all females and one quiet gentleman who is in his mid-80's, plus my relative who is in her mid-seventies. The majority of the female residents may be elderly but their minds are as quick as ever. They taught me how to play a game of dice called "Blow It" and can those ladies ever shake and roll dice! The scoring of the game was a bit confounding at first but the women patiently kept explaining the scoring to me and finally, I was able to play each round without feeling as if I was a grade-schooler ciphering decades ago.
Thank you Sandy, Fern, Merriam, and Ada! I had the most fun I've had in a long time!
Ancora imparo
I
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
My Three Brains
Science has long purported that there are just two hemispheres of the brain: Left and right. Scientists and behaviorists theorize that the left hemisphere houses the verbal and logical functions of the brain and the right hemisphere houses the creative, more spontaneous functions of the brain. When I was actively teaching, we were fed constant material - both in paper form and staff-improvement sessions - about this theory and how important it was to ALWAYS teach in a manner that addressed students with both tendencies.
After spending years being subjected to this theory, I have developed my own conjecture that I actually have three brains. Since leading neuroscientists do not agree on this concept anyway, I am comfortable sharing my three-brain theory with anyone who is willing to listen.
My brain, perhaps not all that different from yours, works hard in both hemispheres. Granted, I do know people who seem to function only in one side. These people are so immersed in either creativity or logic that I fail to see how they can walk through doorways without massive head injuries. They live their lives in 45-degree angles and rarely stand up straight.
My third brain, however, is a scary place where constant discussions take place. My third brain seems to house national debate tournaments. It is a hectic place to be and even more hectic to live with. Yin and yang are continually present in my third brain. If you have a third brain, I can guarantee that it is difficult to sleep because both sides of your brain are trying to "get the last word" on either how to perform a task, which task to perform, whether or not the task is a priority, what tools it takes to perform the task, what the task-performance timetable should be, should it be a group project or a lone-ranger project, what font to use if text is involved, what size the font should be, and should graphics be present.
My third brain thrives on caffeine, Godiva chocolate, almonds, and apple slices. My right brain really prefers carrot cake with cream cheese frosting but my left brain yells back that there are too many calories and too much sugar in the carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. My third brain referees the argument and, hence, the caffeine, Godiva, almonds and apple slices. My third brain has very good taste but the stuff that my right brain would eat tastes better.
I have now come to the time to fix a bit of breakfast for myself. My right brain would like bacon and whole eggs. My left brain says I should eat a small bowl of Special K and my third brain has decided to go with hard-boiled eggs, minus the yolks.
No fun, that third brain. I think I'll opt for a 45-degree angle.
Ancora imparo
After spending years being subjected to this theory, I have developed my own conjecture that I actually have three brains. Since leading neuroscientists do not agree on this concept anyway, I am comfortable sharing my three-brain theory with anyone who is willing to listen.
My brain, perhaps not all that different from yours, works hard in both hemispheres. Granted, I do know people who seem to function only in one side. These people are so immersed in either creativity or logic that I fail to see how they can walk through doorways without massive head injuries. They live their lives in 45-degree angles and rarely stand up straight.
My third brain, however, is a scary place where constant discussions take place. My third brain seems to house national debate tournaments. It is a hectic place to be and even more hectic to live with. Yin and yang are continually present in my third brain. If you have a third brain, I can guarantee that it is difficult to sleep because both sides of your brain are trying to "get the last word" on either how to perform a task, which task to perform, whether or not the task is a priority, what tools it takes to perform the task, what the task-performance timetable should be, should it be a group project or a lone-ranger project, what font to use if text is involved, what size the font should be, and should graphics be present.
My third brain thrives on caffeine, Godiva chocolate, almonds, and apple slices. My right brain really prefers carrot cake with cream cheese frosting but my left brain yells back that there are too many calories and too much sugar in the carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. My third brain referees the argument and, hence, the caffeine, Godiva, almonds and apple slices. My third brain has very good taste but the stuff that my right brain would eat tastes better.
I have now come to the time to fix a bit of breakfast for myself. My right brain would like bacon and whole eggs. My left brain says I should eat a small bowl of Special K and my third brain has decided to go with hard-boiled eggs, minus the yolks.
No fun, that third brain. I think I'll opt for a 45-degree angle.
Ancora imparo
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Loyalty Returned
I can't get a recent NPR Weekend Edition story out of my head.
On March 9, 2012, during the Alaskan Iditarod dog-sled race, Scott Janssen of Anchorage, Alaska, known as "The Mushing Mortician" had his dog, Marshall, a nine-year old Husky, collapse after probably clogging his snout's airway with snow (called "tipping"), a common tactic of mushing dogs to cool off. Janssen, who said, "I know what death looks like.", thought his dog was dead but he started mouth-to-snout resuscitation along with chest compressions. Marshall regained consciousness and was rushed to the next Iditarod checkpoint in Rohn, Alaska by the other dogs, where he was checked out by veterinarians and pronounced OK. Marshall was then transported to Janssen's Anchorage home where he stayed while Janssen and his team of dogs finished the iconic dog-sled race.
What I cannot get over is how Janssen returned loyalty to his dog, who had been loyal and faithful to Janssen, for nine years. Television and radio airwaves are full of stories about dogs who save their owners' lives and here is a story in reverse. A man who so loved his dog that he did not hesitate to jump into life-saving mode to rescue his beloved pet.
For those readers who have had (or who have) pets, we/you can probably identify with Janssen's efforts and determination to bring his dog back from the "brink". Janssen is just lucky that he knew how to do CPR on his dog and he is lucky that Marshall responded. Marshall, on the other hand, is one lucky dog, as the saying goes.
Now I really understand what "one lucky dog"means. I wish we humans were like Marshall and Scott........don't you?
Anchorageous imparo
On March 9, 2012, during the Alaskan Iditarod dog-sled race, Scott Janssen of Anchorage, Alaska, known as "The Mushing Mortician" had his dog, Marshall, a nine-year old Husky, collapse after probably clogging his snout's airway with snow (called "tipping"), a common tactic of mushing dogs to cool off. Janssen, who said, "I know what death looks like.", thought his dog was dead but he started mouth-to-snout resuscitation along with chest compressions. Marshall regained consciousness and was rushed to the next Iditarod checkpoint in Rohn, Alaska by the other dogs, where he was checked out by veterinarians and pronounced OK. Marshall was then transported to Janssen's Anchorage home where he stayed while Janssen and his team of dogs finished the iconic dog-sled race.
What I cannot get over is how Janssen returned loyalty to his dog, who had been loyal and faithful to Janssen, for nine years. Television and radio airwaves are full of stories about dogs who save their owners' lives and here is a story in reverse. A man who so loved his dog that he did not hesitate to jump into life-saving mode to rescue his beloved pet.
For those readers who have had (or who have) pets, we/you can probably identify with Janssen's efforts and determination to bring his dog back from the "brink". Janssen is just lucky that he knew how to do CPR on his dog and he is lucky that Marshall responded. Marshall, on the other hand, is one lucky dog, as the saying goes.
Now I really understand what "one lucky dog"means. I wish we humans were like Marshall and Scott........don't you?
Anchorageous imparo
Monday, March 26, 2012
Oh Where Or Where Did My Feng Shui Go?
When did my Feng Shui get into such turmoil? I had better Feng Shui when my home was inhabited by short people (shorter than me) under the age of six. True, things got a little (OK, a lot) disorganized, messy and dusty but I was relaxed and happy. This uncharacteristic relaxation and sense of euphoria was due, in part, to having either TEM or TYM here, but, I must admit, it was also because I didn't do much other than play with a grandchild, cook, read books, throw Frisbees, pretend I was six at a playground, or eat cookie dough with TYM when we mixed it up. To the dust bunnies (EVERYWHERE) I said, "Pox on you!" and chose to ignore them. I even ignored the crumbs on the floor although I drew the line at the ever-present and ever-annoying cat litter that Grumpy Kitty seems to try her best to bring out of her little box. I was just plain Grandma.
Then the short-person vacation was over and reality reappeared with a vengeance. As I ridded the condo of dust bunnies - by now the size of extra-large, lop-eared rabbits, I couldn't help but think that life was definitely more fun by over-looking all things dirty, dusty and disorganized. Now it seems that my Feng Shui is way out of sync. The condo got clean and I got unhappy. What's up with this? I thought it was supposed to be the other way around!
Feng Shui is an ancient Chinese combination of art and science that reveals how to balance the energies of any given space to assure the health and good fortune for the people who live there. Feng means wind and shui means water. I am here to tell you that my wind and water have combined to form a tsunami. I was up repeatedly in the night with my too-smart phone, adding reminder after reminder. Now I'll have to post a post-it note somewhere in a prominent spot to remind myself to look at my phone reminder list. There are 31 reminders in my reminder list.
I wonder if there is a Feng Shui application that I could load on my cell phone. Oh, wait. I can't load apps yet because I do not know my phone-maker's password I created.
What a pain in my feng shui.
Ancora imparo
Then the short-person vacation was over and reality reappeared with a vengeance. As I ridded the condo of dust bunnies - by now the size of extra-large, lop-eared rabbits, I couldn't help but think that life was definitely more fun by over-looking all things dirty, dusty and disorganized. Now it seems that my Feng Shui is way out of sync. The condo got clean and I got unhappy. What's up with this? I thought it was supposed to be the other way around!
Feng Shui is an ancient Chinese combination of art and science that reveals how to balance the energies of any given space to assure the health and good fortune for the people who live there. Feng means wind and shui means water. I am here to tell you that my wind and water have combined to form a tsunami. I was up repeatedly in the night with my too-smart phone, adding reminder after reminder. Now I'll have to post a post-it note somewhere in a prominent spot to remind myself to look at my phone reminder list. There are 31 reminders in my reminder list.
I wonder if there is a Feng Shui application that I could load on my cell phone. Oh, wait. I can't load apps yet because I do not know my phone-maker's password I created.
What a pain in my feng shui.
Ancora imparo
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Channeling Simon and Garfunkel
Well, to the mystics and warfare gamers out there, my channeling is totally different than yours. I am "calling up" the great days of Simon and Garfunkel music, when the world was groovy, most of the rockers of the time were stoned and/or high, mod clothing was all the rage, and the peace sign was everywhere.
Now that Grandpa Hoo and I have returned from returning TYE (The Youngest Musketeer formerly known as Princess Leia) to her parents and brothers, the condo greeted us with a resounding thud. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Gone are the shrieks of joy, the giggles, the strong little voice announcing that Grandpa Hoo needed his coffee, or "That's not fair"! No more "ewws" elicited from TEM when he saw my asparagus omelet, or his delight when he would beat me at Connect Four, or his request to hear The Enormous Crocodile by Roald Dahl "one more time". No more boxes of berry-flavored Kix, or waffles with peanut butter on them, or Goldfish crackers. No more watching where you walk in case a toy is in an unexpected place.
Simon and Garfunkel wrote a song titled "The Sound of Silence" that keeps echoing in my head now that the condo is deafeningly quiet and Frances has come out of hiding. She is the only living creature in our household that is happy at the moment. While most of the lyrics of "The Sound of Silence" are brooding and darkish, the first stanza neatly sums up what I am feeling tonight.
Hello darkness, my old friend,
I've come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.
Yes, silence has a sound. Not one, necessarily of commission but, rather, one of omission. Silence almost has a roar to it, much like that emitted from the depths of a conch shell, or a dog whistle's pitch that only a dog can hear.
I know that tomorrow morning the sound of Grandpa Hoo's and my routine will return - the coffee maker's grinder, letting the microwave's end sound beep four times, the newspaper's pages turning, scolding the cat for howling, and letting the bar stools' feet clunk on the wooden floor. The dishes can clunk and the silverware tinkle - all before 7 a.m.
I'd rather have to be quiet until I hear the pitter-patter of feet smaller than mine. Instead the visions planted in my brain will enrich and fortify my memories.
Amazing Grace and Twinkle, Musketeers.
Ancora imparo
Now that Grandpa Hoo and I have returned from returning TYE (The Youngest Musketeer formerly known as Princess Leia) to her parents and brothers, the condo greeted us with a resounding thud. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Gone are the shrieks of joy, the giggles, the strong little voice announcing that Grandpa Hoo needed his coffee, or "That's not fair"! No more "ewws" elicited from TEM when he saw my asparagus omelet, or his delight when he would beat me at Connect Four, or his request to hear The Enormous Crocodile by Roald Dahl "one more time". No more boxes of berry-flavored Kix, or waffles with peanut butter on them, or Goldfish crackers. No more watching where you walk in case a toy is in an unexpected place.
Simon and Garfunkel wrote a song titled "The Sound of Silence" that keeps echoing in my head now that the condo is deafeningly quiet and Frances has come out of hiding. She is the only living creature in our household that is happy at the moment. While most of the lyrics of "The Sound of Silence" are brooding and darkish, the first stanza neatly sums up what I am feeling tonight.
Hello darkness, my old friend,
I've come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.
Yes, silence has a sound. Not one, necessarily of commission but, rather, one of omission. Silence almost has a roar to it, much like that emitted from the depths of a conch shell, or a dog whistle's pitch that only a dog can hear.
I know that tomorrow morning the sound of Grandpa Hoo's and my routine will return - the coffee maker's grinder, letting the microwave's end sound beep four times, the newspaper's pages turning, scolding the cat for howling, and letting the bar stools' feet clunk on the wooden floor. The dishes can clunk and the silverware tinkle - all before 7 a.m.
I'd rather have to be quiet until I hear the pitter-patter of feet smaller than mine. Instead the visions planted in my brain will enrich and fortify my memories.
Amazing Grace and Twinkle, Musketeers.
Ancora imparo
Friday, March 23, 2012
Apostrophe Placement?
I wanted to write about Princess Leia today but I am uncertain how to title today's posting. At first I thought I would title it, "Three-Year Olds' Rules", but then I thought that, perhaps, a more fitting title would be "Three-Year Olds Rule".
To be accurate, she is not yet three. She turns three in June, but I'm giving her the benefit of the chronological doubt. She is my kind of girl - a force of nature. Not that I don't relate to quiet, shy, demure or timid girls. If she were that, I'd still love her fiercely. But, there is something inside me that is drawn to girls who are self-assured, confident, and unafraid to assert themselves. Yes, yes, I know she is not-quite-yet three but she has personality traits that I believe are unlikely to change much as she matures, that is, unless some authority figure dares to squash her spirit.
She has an effervescent personality that is "on" from the moment she awakens to the time she actually falls asleep - that is, unless she is tired - then she becomes like the rest of us.........grumpy. She is certain of what she wants and how she wants it. Not in an unpleasant sort of way, just matter of fact. She rarely equivocates and is wary of those who try to change her mind. She initiates play and conversation - two traits that will serve her well, long into adulthood.
I do not know if she will break any glass ceilings someday. Indeed, I do not care if she breaks a glass ceiling, as long as she is doing that which gives her pleasure and exercises her fine mind. The personality traits she displays today are ones that will serve her well through school, where sometimes, stereotypes still prevail and girls' expectations are different from those of boys.
She has a keen eye for puzzle-assembling, likes to direct all things animate and inanimate, and loves to sing. She has a strong sense of nurturing and takes very good care of her "babies".
I think she should get the Republican nomination for President.
Oops, that is grandmother talking.
Ancora imparo
To be accurate, she is not yet three. She turns three in June, but I'm giving her the benefit of the chronological doubt. She is my kind of girl - a force of nature. Not that I don't relate to quiet, shy, demure or timid girls. If she were that, I'd still love her fiercely. But, there is something inside me that is drawn to girls who are self-assured, confident, and unafraid to assert themselves. Yes, yes, I know she is not-quite-yet three but she has personality traits that I believe are unlikely to change much as she matures, that is, unless some authority figure dares to squash her spirit.
She has an effervescent personality that is "on" from the moment she awakens to the time she actually falls asleep - that is, unless she is tired - then she becomes like the rest of us.........grumpy. She is certain of what she wants and how she wants it. Not in an unpleasant sort of way, just matter of fact. She rarely equivocates and is wary of those who try to change her mind. She initiates play and conversation - two traits that will serve her well, long into adulthood.
I do not know if she will break any glass ceilings someday. Indeed, I do not care if she breaks a glass ceiling, as long as she is doing that which gives her pleasure and exercises her fine mind. The personality traits she displays today are ones that will serve her well through school, where sometimes, stereotypes still prevail and girls' expectations are different from those of boys.
She has a keen eye for puzzle-assembling, likes to direct all things animate and inanimate, and loves to sing. She has a strong sense of nurturing and takes very good care of her "babies".
I think she should get the Republican nomination for President.
Oops, that is grandmother talking.
Ancora imparo
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Am I Smarter Than A Six-Year Old?
I recently got to spend almost four days with my eldest grandchild. These were very, very special days - days that just do not come along often enough - when you can spend time, one-on-one with a grandchild. I am currently in my second seventh-heaven because Princess Leia is here with Grandpa Hoo and I for almost four days.
Life just doesn't get much better.
I did learn - or, I guess I should say "remember" - that young children are very smart. They are sponges that not only absorb EVERY word, sound, inflection, statement, action, but they have incredible memories and they are not shy about proclaiming their prolific memory prowess. Their short stature and low age mask the real high intelligence and acuity hiding behind this child-like appearance. Do not let these pint-sized smarties fool you. You may think you are looking at six-year olds but you are really dealing with whizzes that can out-think you every step of the way.
Take, for instance, the game "Connect Four". TEM (The Eldest Musketeer formerly known as TLV - The Little Voice) is very good at this game. Scary good, in fact. I did not get a chance to match up with him during the Holly Daze, but Grandpa Hoo did and he had reported that TEM beat him over and over. Well, I thought either Grandpa Hoo was exaggerating or had simply let TEM win over and over. Turns out, Grandpa Hoo was doing neither.
The kid is good. Scary good.
He and I played together several times during his stay here. At first, I let that cherubic little face lull me into complacency.......until he had beaten me about ten times and I thought I'd best start paying attention. He can see possibilities before they exist AND he can anticipate his opponent's next move. When I arrived at the choir rehearsal I direct every week, I had been beaten, legitimately, more times I could count and I told the men that trying to beat my almost six-year old grandson at "Connect Four" should not be so hard.
Pay close attention to short people masquerading as children. They learn almost everything faster than "we" do and they remember much more.
Ancora imparo
Life just doesn't get much better.
I did learn - or, I guess I should say "remember" - that young children are very smart. They are sponges that not only absorb EVERY word, sound, inflection, statement, action, but they have incredible memories and they are not shy about proclaiming their prolific memory prowess. Their short stature and low age mask the real high intelligence and acuity hiding behind this child-like appearance. Do not let these pint-sized smarties fool you. You may think you are looking at six-year olds but you are really dealing with whizzes that can out-think you every step of the way.
Take, for instance, the game "Connect Four". TEM (The Eldest Musketeer formerly known as TLV - The Little Voice) is very good at this game. Scary good, in fact. I did not get a chance to match up with him during the Holly Daze, but Grandpa Hoo did and he had reported that TEM beat him over and over. Well, I thought either Grandpa Hoo was exaggerating or had simply let TEM win over and over. Turns out, Grandpa Hoo was doing neither.
The kid is good. Scary good.
He and I played together several times during his stay here. At first, I let that cherubic little face lull me into complacency.......until he had beaten me about ten times and I thought I'd best start paying attention. He can see possibilities before they exist AND he can anticipate his opponent's next move. When I arrived at the choir rehearsal I direct every week, I had been beaten, legitimately, more times I could count and I told the men that trying to beat my almost six-year old grandson at "Connect Four" should not be so hard.
Pay close attention to short people masquerading as children. They learn almost everything faster than "we" do and they remember much more.
Ancora imparo
Proclamations From A Princess
Grandpa Hoo and I have a princess staying with us. Oh, no, this is no ordinary princess. This princess has magical powers. She has the ability - with a single look - to melt a heart, change a mind, move a mountain, convince the unconvinced, and get extra hugs and kisses. She can be a mother to a "baby" and ten seconds later organize an event of epic two-year old proportions. Her own person, she knows what she wants and she knows how to get it. She can carry on a conversation with anyone, she can count higher than we thought possible, and she loves goldfish crackers.
Princess Leia has enormous energy capacity. Last evening, she and Grandpa Hoo took her doll for a walk and, he reported, she ran for most of a mile until the last four condo units when she lost her mojo and became more interested in dropping her doll than walking. This morning, she and Ancora Imparo went shopping. Shopping had been mentioned yesterday afternoon and when she got up this morning she informed both of us that today was a shopping day. She is great company and is very independent, indeed. When she and Ancora went into a local department store, she insisted on pushing the cart the entire time......even though she was too short to see where she was going. She tolerated an occasional course correction from Ancora Imparo and was lucky enough to not hit anyone or any display. At the grocery store, she agreed to sit in the special cart but did not like Ancora Imparo pushing the cart from the front. Only the rear handle was tolerated. Princess Leia is a person who does not like out-of-the-ordinary actions.
She is delightful, wonderful, curious, intelligent.......perfect!
Exactly what a grandparent should think!
Ancora Imparo
Princess Leia has enormous energy capacity. Last evening, she and Grandpa Hoo took her doll for a walk and, he reported, she ran for most of a mile until the last four condo units when she lost her mojo and became more interested in dropping her doll than walking. This morning, she and Ancora Imparo went shopping. Shopping had been mentioned yesterday afternoon and when she got up this morning she informed both of us that today was a shopping day. She is great company and is very independent, indeed. When she and Ancora went into a local department store, she insisted on pushing the cart the entire time......even though she was too short to see where she was going. She tolerated an occasional course correction from Ancora Imparo and was lucky enough to not hit anyone or any display. At the grocery store, she agreed to sit in the special cart but did not like Ancora Imparo pushing the cart from the front. Only the rear handle was tolerated. Princess Leia is a person who does not like out-of-the-ordinary actions.
She is delightful, wonderful, curious, intelligent.......perfect!
Exactly what a grandparent should think!
Ancora Imparo
Monday, March 19, 2012
Evoking Bernstein and Sondheim
"West Side Story" is the iconic modern love story about Tony and Maria that was inspired by William Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet". When I was teaching, one of the tools that I utilized was instructing the students about the background of each piece of music they learned to play. When I found a suitable arrangement of "West Side Story" for middle school band, I began the research about "West Side's Story's" story. We studied the music, the musical's story and watched a video of it. One of the songs from the musical is "Maria", sung by the character, Tony. Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim collaborated in the mid-1950's to create this marvelous music and I've been thinking about Sondheim's lyrics this evening as TEM (The Eldest Musketeer) spent his last evening here with us before going to Granny Hay's house tomorrow afternoon. Of course, we return home with Princess Leia, so our melancholy will not last long but tonight the poignancy was palpable.
There is a set of lines from "Maria" that reminds me of the precious and priceless time Grandpa Hoo and I are experiencing with two of our grandchildren this week. If I may be allowed a bit of poetic license:
"The most beautiful sound I ever heard:
Grandma, Grandma, Grandma, Grandma.
All the beautiful sounds of the world in a single word........
Grandma, Grandma, Grandma, Grandma"
It is so true. Hearing another human being say "Grandma" is like all of the stars lining up to create the most dazzling light show in the history of the world. That single word can melt a heart and bring even the most jaded and weary soul into joy mode faster than any pharmaceutical could ever be designed to.
Grandma.
Enough said. The alpha and the omega.
Ancora imparo
There is a set of lines from "Maria" that reminds me of the precious and priceless time Grandpa Hoo and I are experiencing with two of our grandchildren this week. If I may be allowed a bit of poetic license:
"The most beautiful sound I ever heard:
Grandma, Grandma, Grandma, Grandma.
All the beautiful sounds of the world in a single word........
Grandma, Grandma, Grandma, Grandma"
It is so true. Hearing another human being say "Grandma" is like all of the stars lining up to create the most dazzling light show in the history of the world. That single word can melt a heart and bring even the most jaded and weary soul into joy mode faster than any pharmaceutical could ever be designed to.
Grandma.
Enough said. The alpha and the omega.
Ancora imparo
Shorter-Perspective News
This is day four of my stay with the Hooz. Who am I? I am TEM, The Eldest Musketeer. Musketeer, the Younger is in Haiti with my parents and Grandpa Hay. Princess Leia is with Granny Hay. I know she is having a good time being very helpful and having lots of fun.
Me, I'm always helpful and always planning. Yesterday, after I had a short rest, the Hooz and I went to a local park. I took my scooter because Grandpa Hoo and Ancora Imparo needed exercise and I can go really fast on my Razor scooter. When we got to the park, I pretended to be Roald Dahl's Enormous Crocodile and I pretended to eat the Hooz. We all had great fun. On the way home, I'd drop my Razor and Grandpa Hoo would ride it until I ran to catch him. Grandpa said it was fun to ride. It was very warm outside and when we got back to the Hooz House, Ancora Imparo got out lemon-lime popsickles and we all ate one. Grandpa Hoo was able to eat his really fast because he can bite into frozen food with his teeth. Ancora Imparo and I are not so lucky and we had to eat ours slowly which made our tongues very green. After dinner, Grandpa Hoo played Candy Land with me and I beat him every game.
This morning Ancora Imparo and I practiced my piano music together. She said I did a very good job. When I got done playing all my music, we did some theory work together. I learned how to make whole notes in lines and spaces. I used my eraser a lot, but it works so good to correct whole notes that I put in a slightly wrong space. I am a very particular person.
After we finished my piano practice, Ancora Imparo and I went swimming at a place that is not too far from the Hooz House. It is a new wave swim club. It was a lot of fun. We were there for ninety minutes and most of the time we had the pool to ourselves. There were pool toys and Ancora Imparo brought along two noodle floats that I had a good time with. When we left the pool, I was very hungry so Ancora Imparo stopped at McDonalds, which is right on the way back to the Hooz House. I got french fries, two hamburger patties with no buns, and some Hi-C orange drink, which I thought I would like but did not. After lunch the Hooz and I played more Candy Land, they read books to me and then Ancora Imparo and I fell asleep sitting up. We must have been very tired from our big morning. Grandpa Hoo carried me downstairs so I could rest a while more comfortably.
The Hooz are learning some things about me. I like to negotiate - especially when it comes to eating my vegetables. Ancora Imparo is pretty smart, though. She knows how to negotiate me into eating more peas, apple slices, or broccoli clumps that I originally wanted to. But, she doesn't need to negotiate how many blueberries or gluten-free waffles I eat. She just has to negotiate with me when to stop! They are also learning that I have grown up a lot and can do many things by myself and for myself that I didn't used to be able to. They told me I am lots of fun to have around. I think they will miss me a whole bunch when I leave tomorrow.
TEM
Me, I'm always helpful and always planning. Yesterday, after I had a short rest, the Hooz and I went to a local park. I took my scooter because Grandpa Hoo and Ancora Imparo needed exercise and I can go really fast on my Razor scooter. When we got to the park, I pretended to be Roald Dahl's Enormous Crocodile and I pretended to eat the Hooz. We all had great fun. On the way home, I'd drop my Razor and Grandpa Hoo would ride it until I ran to catch him. Grandpa said it was fun to ride. It was very warm outside and when we got back to the Hooz House, Ancora Imparo got out lemon-lime popsickles and we all ate one. Grandpa Hoo was able to eat his really fast because he can bite into frozen food with his teeth. Ancora Imparo and I are not so lucky and we had to eat ours slowly which made our tongues very green. After dinner, Grandpa Hoo played Candy Land with me and I beat him every game.
This morning Ancora Imparo and I practiced my piano music together. She said I did a very good job. When I got done playing all my music, we did some theory work together. I learned how to make whole notes in lines and spaces. I used my eraser a lot, but it works so good to correct whole notes that I put in a slightly wrong space. I am a very particular person.
After we finished my piano practice, Ancora Imparo and I went swimming at a place that is not too far from the Hooz House. It is a new wave swim club. It was a lot of fun. We were there for ninety minutes and most of the time we had the pool to ourselves. There were pool toys and Ancora Imparo brought along two noodle floats that I had a good time with. When we left the pool, I was very hungry so Ancora Imparo stopped at McDonalds, which is right on the way back to the Hooz House. I got french fries, two hamburger patties with no buns, and some Hi-C orange drink, which I thought I would like but did not. After lunch the Hooz and I played more Candy Land, they read books to me and then Ancora Imparo and I fell asleep sitting up. We must have been very tired from our big morning. Grandpa Hoo carried me downstairs so I could rest a while more comfortably.
The Hooz are learning some things about me. I like to negotiate - especially when it comes to eating my vegetables. Ancora Imparo is pretty smart, though. She knows how to negotiate me into eating more peas, apple slices, or broccoli clumps that I originally wanted to. But, she doesn't need to negotiate how many blueberries or gluten-free waffles I eat. She just has to negotiate with me when to stop! They are also learning that I have grown up a lot and can do many things by myself and for myself that I didn't used to be able to. They told me I am lots of fun to have around. I think they will miss me a whole bunch when I leave tomorrow.
TEM
Sunday, March 18, 2012
More Short-Perspective News
Hi, I'm back! I, being TEM, The Eldest Musketeer. There is so much to tell, I don't know where to start. OK, just like Julie Andrews, "let's start at the very beginning, a very fine place to start."
Yesterday was science day here at the Hooz. I had gone to the science fair at my school and I was so excited to try making tornadoes and volcanoes and I got to! Ancora Imparo had purchased two, two-liter bottles for the tornadoes and Grandpa Hoo did some special thing to connect the two, two-liter bottles so they could be turned over and over, just like a salt timer. We put food coloring in the water, and I tried putting small bits of flowers in the water so the tornado could look like it had debris floating in it. Then Ancora Imparo got out all the ingredients for the volcano and Grandpa Hoo and I made the "mountain". At first, I did not like getting my hands dirty in the mixture of flour, salt, cooking oil and water. I thought it felt gross but, after a while, I got used to it and then I enjoyed helping make the mix stick to the sides of the bottle so it looked like a mountain. Then came the really, really cool part, which Ancora Imparo video recorded. That is when I got to put in a few drops of dish soap, several teaspoons of salt, several teaspoons of baking soda and then watch the eruption - over and over and over. I don't know who had more fun - me, Grandpa Hoo or Ancora Imparo watching us!
Next my great imagination went to work and I decided I wanted to build a volcano outside with real rocks! The Hooz and I went for two walks to collect stones of all sizes in the white bucket. Grandpa Hoo took my scooter along so the full bucket could rest on the scooter because it was so heavy. He and I built a stone mountain around a bottle outside. It looked just like a mini-mountain. When we made the lava concoction it looked just like a real volcanic eruption!
Later I chose to have quiet time instead of taking a nap and I made a dragon that had really tall legs, some spears and lots of other neat attachments. I can do a lot with masking tape, a ruler, Scotch tape and a stapler. After that I played my piano lesson assignment for Ancora Imparo and I learned about line and space notes. She also taught me that there are line and space notes above and below the staff!
After dinner, the Hooz and I watched the movie, "Treasure Buddies" and ate popcorn. When the movie was finished the Hooz each read me a book. Ancora Imparo taught me the difference between to, too and two. Whew!
This morning the Hooz and I went to their church where Ancora Imparo directed a bunch of men who sang real good. Then she played her flute with the organ and a man who played the bagpipes. He was really good. I knew just what to expect the bagpipes to sound like because Ancora Imparo and I watched bagpipers on YouTube yesterday so I wouldn't be surprised.
After church we went out to lunch. After lunch, Grandpa Hoo read me a really nice email from my brother who is in Haiti with my parents. I tried to think of what to say back, but I was feeling goofy so I had Grandpa Hoo send a goofy email in return. It was nice of him to send my sister and I an message! Anyway, for lunch I had a hot dog (without the bun), french fries, applesauce and lemonade. We rode in Grandpa Hooz big, white truck. After we got home, we read books, I had quiet time and Ancora Imparo went for a long walk in the hot sun. She said she ate too much for lunch.
I don't know what we will do tonight. I'm doing a real good job being helpful, funny, talkative, and watchful. If either Hoo skips a page in a book, I let them know right away!
Tomorrow we are going swimming. I can't wait!
TEM
Yesterday was science day here at the Hooz. I had gone to the science fair at my school and I was so excited to try making tornadoes and volcanoes and I got to! Ancora Imparo had purchased two, two-liter bottles for the tornadoes and Grandpa Hoo did some special thing to connect the two, two-liter bottles so they could be turned over and over, just like a salt timer. We put food coloring in the water, and I tried putting small bits of flowers in the water so the tornado could look like it had debris floating in it. Then Ancora Imparo got out all the ingredients for the volcano and Grandpa Hoo and I made the "mountain". At first, I did not like getting my hands dirty in the mixture of flour, salt, cooking oil and water. I thought it felt gross but, after a while, I got used to it and then I enjoyed helping make the mix stick to the sides of the bottle so it looked like a mountain. Then came the really, really cool part, which Ancora Imparo video recorded. That is when I got to put in a few drops of dish soap, several teaspoons of salt, several teaspoons of baking soda and then watch the eruption - over and over and over. I don't know who had more fun - me, Grandpa Hoo or Ancora Imparo watching us!
Next my great imagination went to work and I decided I wanted to build a volcano outside with real rocks! The Hooz and I went for two walks to collect stones of all sizes in the white bucket. Grandpa Hoo took my scooter along so the full bucket could rest on the scooter because it was so heavy. He and I built a stone mountain around a bottle outside. It looked just like a mini-mountain. When we made the lava concoction it looked just like a real volcanic eruption!
Later I chose to have quiet time instead of taking a nap and I made a dragon that had really tall legs, some spears and lots of other neat attachments. I can do a lot with masking tape, a ruler, Scotch tape and a stapler. After that I played my piano lesson assignment for Ancora Imparo and I learned about line and space notes. She also taught me that there are line and space notes above and below the staff!
After dinner, the Hooz and I watched the movie, "Treasure Buddies" and ate popcorn. When the movie was finished the Hooz each read me a book. Ancora Imparo taught me the difference between to, too and two. Whew!
This morning the Hooz and I went to their church where Ancora Imparo directed a bunch of men who sang real good. Then she played her flute with the organ and a man who played the bagpipes. He was really good. I knew just what to expect the bagpipes to sound like because Ancora Imparo and I watched bagpipers on YouTube yesterday so I wouldn't be surprised.
After church we went out to lunch. After lunch, Grandpa Hoo read me a really nice email from my brother who is in Haiti with my parents. I tried to think of what to say back, but I was feeling goofy so I had Grandpa Hoo send a goofy email in return. It was nice of him to send my sister and I an message! Anyway, for lunch I had a hot dog (without the bun), french fries, applesauce and lemonade. We rode in Grandpa Hooz big, white truck. After we got home, we read books, I had quiet time and Ancora Imparo went for a long walk in the hot sun. She said she ate too much for lunch.
I don't know what we will do tonight. I'm doing a real good job being helpful, funny, talkative, and watchful. If either Hoo skips a page in a book, I let them know right away!
Tomorrow we are going swimming. I can't wait!
TEM
Saturday, March 17, 2012
News From A Shorter Perspective
I am the eldest of Ancora Imparo's Three Musketeers, which I guess makes me TEM. I used to be TLV but now that I am older I have grown out of and past that moniker. I am spending four nights and five days with the Hooz and then I will go spend four nights with Granny Hay. My sister, who Ancora Imparo refers to as Princess Leia, is starting out during my spring break with Granny Hay and then she and I will trade places.
You see, my parents and LB (Little Brother) left last night for Haiti, where they will spend seven days and nights helping out around the nation of Haiti. My mom and my dad will teach and LB will just hang out, I think. Grampa Hay went, too, and he will help build stuff. He is a good builder and fixer.
When I left the Hay's house yesterday with the Hooz, Granny Hoo sat in the back seat with me and read two Roald Dahl books. One of them was about an enormous crocodile who liked to eat children and the other was about a pelican, a monkey and a giraffe who washed windows. Being a boy, I really liked the one about the nasty crocodile who wanted to eat children and I had Ancora Imparo read it to me twice in the car and then I asked Grampy Hoo to read it to me again last night before I went to bed.
When I arrived at the Hooz house, I got to pick which bed I could sleep in and I picked the big bed that my mom and dad usually sleep in. I must have liked the room because I fell sound asleep right away last night and even slept through a big thunder/hail/rain storm early this morning.
Before dinner last night, Ancora Imparo and I threw around a doggie frizbee for a long time and after dinner I impressed the Hooz with my musical knowledge of musical note names like E-flat being the same note as D-sharp and A-flat being the same note as G-sharp. I played my piano-lesson pieces for the Hooz and I even composed a piece on the manuscript paper that Ancora Imparo gave me. Later I impressed the Hooz by wanting to take a before-bed shower instead of playing in the bathtub like I used to before I got older. Ancora Imparo read me a Learn-To-Read book before bed and I learned a new word, "don't". She gave me a pile of new book that I can look through whenever I want to when I am here. I love learning how to read and spell .
It's a new day here. The Hooz are awake early, enjoying their morning coffee. Me, I am still sleeping in my new, favorite, big bed.
More later.
TEM
You see, my parents and LB (Little Brother) left last night for Haiti, where they will spend seven days and nights helping out around the nation of Haiti. My mom and my dad will teach and LB will just hang out, I think. Grampa Hay went, too, and he will help build stuff. He is a good builder and fixer.
When I left the Hay's house yesterday with the Hooz, Granny Hoo sat in the back seat with me and read two Roald Dahl books. One of them was about an enormous crocodile who liked to eat children and the other was about a pelican, a monkey and a giraffe who washed windows. Being a boy, I really liked the one about the nasty crocodile who wanted to eat children and I had Ancora Imparo read it to me twice in the car and then I asked Grampy Hoo to read it to me again last night before I went to bed.
When I arrived at the Hooz house, I got to pick which bed I could sleep in and I picked the big bed that my mom and dad usually sleep in. I must have liked the room because I fell sound asleep right away last night and even slept through a big thunder/hail/rain storm early this morning.
Before dinner last night, Ancora Imparo and I threw around a doggie frizbee for a long time and after dinner I impressed the Hooz with my musical knowledge of musical note names like E-flat being the same note as D-sharp and A-flat being the same note as G-sharp. I played my piano-lesson pieces for the Hooz and I even composed a piece on the manuscript paper that Ancora Imparo gave me. Later I impressed the Hooz by wanting to take a before-bed shower instead of playing in the bathtub like I used to before I got older. Ancora Imparo read me a Learn-To-Read book before bed and I learned a new word, "don't". She gave me a pile of new book that I can look through whenever I want to when I am here. I love learning how to read and spell .
It's a new day here. The Hooz are awake early, enjoying their morning coffee. Me, I am still sleeping in my new, favorite, big bed.
More later.
TEM
Friday, March 16, 2012
If You Please, March
I'm still in full whining mode about our unseasonably warm weather. I did not enjoy yesterday until Capt. SO and I left a restaurant last night at 8:45 p.m. and walked to our car. Of course, the sun was down and with its departure the night air was cool but not cold and held very little humidity. It made me wish I was seated on the Aqua RV's upper deck, sweatshirt on but comfortable otherwise. Just a perfect outdoor evening.
The one positive comment I can make about our weather is that, other than a few extra box elder bugs, the other bugs do not seem to have discovered it feels like anything other than March. The song birds have definitely returned, in great numbers, and Robin Red-Breast is back with thousands of his friends.
What vexed me last night and the night before that is the interior temperature of the condo remains a fairly constant seventy four degrees, twenty-four-seven, give or take the mid-day spike. This middle-of-the-road temperature would be perfect when the outside temp is in the eighties and nineties, but at present, I find it difficult to keep my cool day and night.
Capt. SO's office is in our lower level and, as you know, heat rises, so he is cold all of the time now. The upper level holds the heat, plus has the sunshine to warm things so the thermostat - being in the upper level - reads anywhere between seventy-four and seventy-nine degrees during daylight hours. Capt's office temp is usually ten to fifteen degrees colder. I'd prefer to run the air conditioner - he is freezing.
The story of our lives.
During the night, it is really too cool to logically run the air-conditioner but it is too warm and stuffy to sleep comfortably and continually. We've tried adding the bedroom ceiling fan two nights in a row now, but even at its lowest speed, it puts out enough air to make the middle-of-the-road temperature feel a bit too chilly. The result is that I spend the entire night either throwing off covers or sitting upright to fumble for and find additional covers to pull back over me. Capt. SO seems to be unfazed with all of these thermostatic theatrics and awakens rested and refreshed. Me, I look like some wild woman who just escaped Lon Cheney in a 1940's thriller.
Please, March, could you act your age?
Ancora imparo
The one positive comment I can make about our weather is that, other than a few extra box elder bugs, the other bugs do not seem to have discovered it feels like anything other than March. The song birds have definitely returned, in great numbers, and Robin Red-Breast is back with thousands of his friends.
What vexed me last night and the night before that is the interior temperature of the condo remains a fairly constant seventy four degrees, twenty-four-seven, give or take the mid-day spike. This middle-of-the-road temperature would be perfect when the outside temp is in the eighties and nineties, but at present, I find it difficult to keep my cool day and night.
Capt. SO's office is in our lower level and, as you know, heat rises, so he is cold all of the time now. The upper level holds the heat, plus has the sunshine to warm things so the thermostat - being in the upper level - reads anywhere between seventy-four and seventy-nine degrees during daylight hours. Capt's office temp is usually ten to fifteen degrees colder. I'd prefer to run the air conditioner - he is freezing.
The story of our lives.
During the night, it is really too cool to logically run the air-conditioner but it is too warm and stuffy to sleep comfortably and continually. We've tried adding the bedroom ceiling fan two nights in a row now, but even at its lowest speed, it puts out enough air to make the middle-of-the-road temperature feel a bit too chilly. The result is that I spend the entire night either throwing off covers or sitting upright to fumble for and find additional covers to pull back over me. Capt. SO seems to be unfazed with all of these thermostatic theatrics and awakens rested and refreshed. Me, I look like some wild woman who just escaped Lon Cheney in a 1940's thriller.
Please, March, could you act your age?
Ancora imparo
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Unnatural
I have never been a fan of the month of March, but this is ridiculous. March is supposed to be the month in which everything is dirty from the run-off of the giant snow banks that melt and the water runs downhill. March is supposed to be chilly and windy - not warm, humid and sultry. We are used to experiencing accumulating snowfalls on or around St. Patrick's Day. The little green leprechaun is supposed to pop his head out of the pot-o-gold and figure out if he sees his shadow - or not. School children are not supposed to need fans turned on them in the non-air-conditioned buildings. I am not supposed to see young women in shorts tiny enough to fit on the leprechaun.
As I said, this is ridiculous.
I am in contact with several friends who are teachers and they are reporting that their students have "checked out" and decided that it is summer vacation looming large rather than just spring break around the corner. I'm certain that my friends are ready to "check out" as well.
The view of my backyard is complete with "unnaturalness". Just about every tree has giant buds on every possible place where a branch could support leaf life. I just pray that Mother Nature doesn't pull an April Fools joke on us and these beautiful buds freeze and fall off. On the other hand, I most certainly do not want the temperatures to remain over-heated and only rise from here. I'd never leave my air-conditioning were that to be the case.
Running errands in denim jeans was not fun today. While I did see plenty of people in jeans, denim was definitely not the best fabric to be sporting while oot and aboot. After ninety minutes of grocery shopping, I returned to find my car's dash thermometer reading 87 degrees. Ridiculous.
I feel like Ebeneezer Scrooge. Strangers would smile today and say, "Isn't this weather wonderful?" I wanted to say what I was really thinking but instead, smiled back and replied, "Yes, it is!" What a hypocrite I was!
Enough of the June/July atmosphere. Let's get back to the end of winter and the beginning of spring. Igor Stravinsky must be very unhappy about now.
Ancora imparo
As I said, this is ridiculous.
I am in contact with several friends who are teachers and they are reporting that their students have "checked out" and decided that it is summer vacation looming large rather than just spring break around the corner. I'm certain that my friends are ready to "check out" as well.
The view of my backyard is complete with "unnaturalness". Just about every tree has giant buds on every possible place where a branch could support leaf life. I just pray that Mother Nature doesn't pull an April Fools joke on us and these beautiful buds freeze and fall off. On the other hand, I most certainly do not want the temperatures to remain over-heated and only rise from here. I'd never leave my air-conditioning were that to be the case.
Running errands in denim jeans was not fun today. While I did see plenty of people in jeans, denim was definitely not the best fabric to be sporting while oot and aboot. After ninety minutes of grocery shopping, I returned to find my car's dash thermometer reading 87 degrees. Ridiculous.
I feel like Ebeneezer Scrooge. Strangers would smile today and say, "Isn't this weather wonderful?" I wanted to say what I was really thinking but instead, smiled back and replied, "Yes, it is!" What a hypocrite I was!
Enough of the June/July atmosphere. Let's get back to the end of winter and the beginning of spring. Igor Stravinsky must be very unhappy about now.
Ancora imparo
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Pipes Vertical and Horizontal
As Capt. SO said it this evening, I am enamored with the bagpipes. Yes, I am. I admit it. There is something about bagpipes that is at once arresting, mournful, and glorious - the epitome of pomp and circumstance.
We are all familiar with the role the participation of bagpipers play in the funerals of slain fire fighters and police officers. Auditory images are all too familiar of a piper playing "Amazing Grace" at a ceremony to honor the life of a fallen hero.
I became aware of bagpipes when I was teaching and a former student of mine, as a high school student, had taken up playing the pipes. I invited him to return to our middle school and put on a demonstration for my bands. Several years later, a member of the men's choir that I direct sent me a link of a performance of an international singing group called "Il Divo". Il Divo is a group of male vocalists that was brought together by Simon Cowell of American Idol fame. Il Divo has a riveting performance of them singing "Amazing Grace" in the Rome Colosseum, accompanied by a bagpiper. I was so moved by the performance that I set about putting together an arrangement for my Men's Choir and piper.
This past fall I was listening to "Classics By Request" on my public radio station and heard this incredibly beautiful piece for bagpipe, flute and organ. An unusual combination, I was hooked when I heard it and set about finding out how to purchase a copy. My search took me to Germany and one of the composers, Michael Korb, from whom I was able to buy a copy.
This Sunday is the performance that I have waited almost five months for. "Highland Cathedral" will be presented to our congregation during the morning services. As I was rehearsing the music this afternoon with the organist and piper, I did truly believe I must have died and gone to heaven. I can only hope that those listening will be as moved by the music as I am.
Pipes vertical - the bagpipe; pipe horizontal - my flute. Together, with organ, we will make beautiful music.
Ancora imparo
We are all familiar with the role the participation of bagpipers play in the funerals of slain fire fighters and police officers. Auditory images are all too familiar of a piper playing "Amazing Grace" at a ceremony to honor the life of a fallen hero.
I became aware of bagpipes when I was teaching and a former student of mine, as a high school student, had taken up playing the pipes. I invited him to return to our middle school and put on a demonstration for my bands. Several years later, a member of the men's choir that I direct sent me a link of a performance of an international singing group called "Il Divo". Il Divo is a group of male vocalists that was brought together by Simon Cowell of American Idol fame. Il Divo has a riveting performance of them singing "Amazing Grace" in the Rome Colosseum, accompanied by a bagpiper. I was so moved by the performance that I set about putting together an arrangement for my Men's Choir and piper.
This past fall I was listening to "Classics By Request" on my public radio station and heard this incredibly beautiful piece for bagpipe, flute and organ. An unusual combination, I was hooked when I heard it and set about finding out how to purchase a copy. My search took me to Germany and one of the composers, Michael Korb, from whom I was able to buy a copy.
This Sunday is the performance that I have waited almost five months for. "Highland Cathedral" will be presented to our congregation during the morning services. As I was rehearsing the music this afternoon with the organist and piper, I did truly believe I must have died and gone to heaven. I can only hope that those listening will be as moved by the music as I am.
Pipes vertical - the bagpipe; pipe horizontal - my flute. Together, with organ, we will make beautiful music.
Ancora imparo
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Head Moves
The human head can do remarkable things. Perched atop the neck and spinal column, the head is really a very heavy part of the body. It is equipped with the nerve center - literally and figuratively - of the body and is capable of experiencing each of the senses. The head can think, feel, see, hear, taste, and is armed with the ability to compute, speak, and display great logic......or the lack thereof.
The head can move in a rather large radius but, as a rule, does have somewhat limited movement beyond one-hundred and eighty degrees. The head can rotate from side to side, can nod up and down, can tip an ear towards each shoulder, and can shake from side to side.
Teachers and parents learn very quickly that the favorite head movement of some children is to shake from side to side, in what is universally known as "NO!" The preferred head movement is to nod up and down in agreement, although occasionally throwing in a "NO!" movement can indicate individuality and confidence.
For some, the early years of head movements morph into life-long habits. Some children are generally affable and agreeable into adulthood and others remain "NO!" headshakers their entire lives. I'm certain that each of us knows at least one of each of these personalities that manifests itself in movements involving the head.
I know people who begin nodding in agreement the moment another person opens up his or her mouth. Just observe a crowd or group of listeners when a leader is speaking. This nodding habit is just that, for some, and may not actually indicate agreement.
The headshaker is another animal all together. Every musical group, professional meeting, or social gathering seems to have at least one instinctive headshaker who has to be taught to stop, encouraged to stop or forbade to shake - period. The headshaker can call attention to goofs, mistakes, miscues, snafus, and mess-ups that the audience, public, or assembled might otherwise have never noted. In general, these people tend to be "Negative Nellies" in their lives and are simply prone to disagreeing with just about anything someone else says or does. I pity the headshakers because, after a while, people either dismiss them as cranks, or avoid them as often as possible.
I suppose, in the grand scheme of things, that even the headshakers are preferred over the 360-degree head movement that Linda Blair's character displayed in the 1970's movie, "The Exorcist".
I'll bet you are nodding in agreement right now.
Ancora imparo
The head can move in a rather large radius but, as a rule, does have somewhat limited movement beyond one-hundred and eighty degrees. The head can rotate from side to side, can nod up and down, can tip an ear towards each shoulder, and can shake from side to side.
Teachers and parents learn very quickly that the favorite head movement of some children is to shake from side to side, in what is universally known as "NO!" The preferred head movement is to nod up and down in agreement, although occasionally throwing in a "NO!" movement can indicate individuality and confidence.
For some, the early years of head movements morph into life-long habits. Some children are generally affable and agreeable into adulthood and others remain "NO!" headshakers their entire lives. I'm certain that each of us knows at least one of each of these personalities that manifests itself in movements involving the head.
I know people who begin nodding in agreement the moment another person opens up his or her mouth. Just observe a crowd or group of listeners when a leader is speaking. This nodding habit is just that, for some, and may not actually indicate agreement.
The headshaker is another animal all together. Every musical group, professional meeting, or social gathering seems to have at least one instinctive headshaker who has to be taught to stop, encouraged to stop or forbade to shake - period. The headshaker can call attention to goofs, mistakes, miscues, snafus, and mess-ups that the audience, public, or assembled might otherwise have never noted. In general, these people tend to be "Negative Nellies" in their lives and are simply prone to disagreeing with just about anything someone else says or does. I pity the headshakers because, after a while, people either dismiss them as cranks, or avoid them as often as possible.
I suppose, in the grand scheme of things, that even the headshakers are preferred over the 360-degree head movement that Linda Blair's character displayed in the 1970's movie, "The Exorcist".
I'll bet you are nodding in agreement right now.
Ancora imparo
Monday, March 12, 2012
More Computer-like
My computer has functions I wish I had.
I wish I had a delete key, where I could either erase (delete) what I said, someone else said, or someone else is saying.
I wish I had a built-in number pad where I could do computing on one of my hands electronically instead of writing on my skin with an ink pen.
I wish there was a universal mute button - for obvious reasons.
I wish there was a universal volume control - for obvious reasons.
I wish I could change fonts frequently. Wouldn't it be fun to look different every day or every time you opened your mouth?
I wish I could change vehicles as easily as it is to change fonts on the computer. Imagine having a dozen or so cars/trucks/SUV's/MPV's available. A little, sporty convertible to whiz about in when the weather is warm and gorgeous; a luxury car when you want to pamper yourself; a mini-type car if you just want to buzz to the post office and back home; an 4X4 SUV when the snow is deep and the roads are slippery; an 8-passenger van when you want to transport lots of people; a full-size pick-up - 10 cylinder dually - when you need to haul; a sleek sports car when you need to imagine you are Grace Kelly; an electric car that gets obscene miles per gallon when the price of gas gets over $4.00 a gallon (We're close on that one!), a camper/van when you'd like to go camping but don't want to sleep on the ground, and, lastly, an RV (not an Aqua RV) to take across country.
I wish I could "re-direct" myself as easily as my web server does when I want to open up another window.
I wish I had a backspace button in order to start over again when my foot gets stuck in my mouth.
I wish I had an escape button - for obvious reasons.
Like Dorothy, in the "Wizard of Oz", I wish I could press "home" and there I would be.
I wish I could press "control, alt, delete" and just shut myself down.
Bye.
Ancora imparo
I wish I had a delete key, where I could either erase (delete) what I said, someone else said, or someone else is saying.
I wish I had a built-in number pad where I could do computing on one of my hands electronically instead of writing on my skin with an ink pen.
I wish there was a universal mute button - for obvious reasons.
I wish there was a universal volume control - for obvious reasons.
I wish I could change fonts frequently. Wouldn't it be fun to look different every day or every time you opened your mouth?
I wish I could change vehicles as easily as it is to change fonts on the computer. Imagine having a dozen or so cars/trucks/SUV's/MPV's available. A little, sporty convertible to whiz about in when the weather is warm and gorgeous; a luxury car when you want to pamper yourself; a mini-type car if you just want to buzz to the post office and back home; an 4X4 SUV when the snow is deep and the roads are slippery; an 8-passenger van when you want to transport lots of people; a full-size pick-up - 10 cylinder dually - when you need to haul; a sleek sports car when you need to imagine you are Grace Kelly; an electric car that gets obscene miles per gallon when the price of gas gets over $4.00 a gallon (We're close on that one!), a camper/van when you'd like to go camping but don't want to sleep on the ground, and, lastly, an RV (not an Aqua RV) to take across country.
I wish I could "re-direct" myself as easily as my web server does when I want to open up another window.
I wish I had a backspace button in order to start over again when my foot gets stuck in my mouth.
I wish I had an escape button - for obvious reasons.
Like Dorothy, in the "Wizard of Oz", I wish I could press "home" and there I would be.
I wish I could press "control, alt, delete" and just shut myself down.
Bye.
Ancora imparo
Sunday, March 11, 2012
And You Sat Where?
We humans are creatures of habit, are we not? We like to drive familiar routes to and from our favorite (or convenient) businesses, we like to listen to favorite radio stations, or buy certain brands of shoes because the brands fit our feet. Perhaps you are one of those loyal consumers that has driven a certain brand of car your entire life. In my parents era, it was not unusual for a family or, back then the man, to be referred to as, "Oh, he's a Ford man." or "Oh, he's a Chrysler man." Literally, every car these men ever purchased was from the same line of automobiles.
Most of us like to fall back on the familiar, the routine and the comfortable. We like our habits.
I wrote about habit formation a few weeks ago and since then my habit awareness has been heightened. I have tried to be conscious of habits and what I discovered is that my days and nights are just one long string of habits. It has been challenging to break routines and to even think about establishing new ones. Take, for example, where you sit.
A few years ago, Capt. SO and I discovered the hierarchy of seating on a bus filled with seniors - and I do not mean seniors of the high school or college variety. Since it was our first (and only so far) group bus trip, we were unaware of the unspoken rule that the seats you sit in the first time are the seats you sit in EVERY TIME. Fortunately, for us, when we loaded for the return trip, we did return to the same seats, but another couple did not and were royally (and loudly) chastised for "taking our seats". The offended were so offensive that the offenders actually gave the seats up. It was not a pretty picture of senior living.
Church seating is another example of what I call "The Endowed Seating Syndrome". If you are a visitor to many churches and you are not aware that the Smith Family Pew is just that, pity the poor folk that dare to sit where the Smiths ALWAYS sit. A few weeks ago, I did the unthinkable, without knowing it, and sat down where someone else ALWAYS sits. I was made to feel uncomfortable enough (plus the fact that friends saving the seats gave enough dirty looks to last me a lifetime) that I got up and moved. I was so offended that I made up some lyrics to the familiar song, "This Land Is My Land."
This seat is my seat,
It is not your seat,
I'll always sit here,
Now and forever.
Go find your own seat,
I do not care where.
This seat was made for only me.
The next time you think about taking a seat at a table for a recurring meeting, or sit in a church pew, or park in a parking spot, first check out the pavement or look under the seats. If you see initials carved or a gold name plate afixed, you just might want to think about sitting or parking somewhere else. That spot is taken.
Ancora imparo
Most of us like to fall back on the familiar, the routine and the comfortable. We like our habits.
I wrote about habit formation a few weeks ago and since then my habit awareness has been heightened. I have tried to be conscious of habits and what I discovered is that my days and nights are just one long string of habits. It has been challenging to break routines and to even think about establishing new ones. Take, for example, where you sit.
A few years ago, Capt. SO and I discovered the hierarchy of seating on a bus filled with seniors - and I do not mean seniors of the high school or college variety. Since it was our first (and only so far) group bus trip, we were unaware of the unspoken rule that the seats you sit in the first time are the seats you sit in EVERY TIME. Fortunately, for us, when we loaded for the return trip, we did return to the same seats, but another couple did not and were royally (and loudly) chastised for "taking our seats". The offended were so offensive that the offenders actually gave the seats up. It was not a pretty picture of senior living.
Church seating is another example of what I call "The Endowed Seating Syndrome". If you are a visitor to many churches and you are not aware that the Smith Family Pew is just that, pity the poor folk that dare to sit where the Smiths ALWAYS sit. A few weeks ago, I did the unthinkable, without knowing it, and sat down where someone else ALWAYS sits. I was made to feel uncomfortable enough (plus the fact that friends saving the seats gave enough dirty looks to last me a lifetime) that I got up and moved. I was so offended that I made up some lyrics to the familiar song, "This Land Is My Land."
This seat is my seat,
It is not your seat,
I'll always sit here,
Now and forever.
Go find your own seat,
I do not care where.
This seat was made for only me.
The next time you think about taking a seat at a table for a recurring meeting, or sit in a church pew, or park in a parking spot, first check out the pavement or look under the seats. If you see initials carved or a gold name plate afixed, you just might want to think about sitting or parking somewhere else. That spot is taken.
Ancora imparo
Saturday, March 10, 2012
March Insanity
Today's title, "March Insanity" is a play on the phrase, "March Madness", that signifies the annual NCAA college basketball tournaments that take place across the nation. While I am not a devotee of watching college basketball on television, I do follow the progress of the teams, especially if my Alma mater is involved, and I read the sports section daily. On the few occasions that I will actually see a part of a game on television, I am always struck by the intensity and enthusiasm with which the young athletes play. They wear their hearts on their sleeves unlike many of the jaded professional players who, in spite of their stratospheric salaries, look almost bored when they are out on the floor.
March, as a month, seems to lend itself to insanity. First there is the March Madness component of the NCAA tournaments, then there is the weather. March is the month that Mother Nature throws the kitchen sink at the earth. There can be sun and temps in the high fifties, such as today, but she can also throw in strong winds, which she has done today. If our Aqua RV was in the water now, this would not be a good boating day for there would be, perhaps, gale-force winds. When Mother Nature gets the wind out of her system, she may choose either rain, snow or both. You just never know what each day will bring. If I were a meteorologist, March would be my least favorite month.
Another element of insanity in March takes place in our public school and our institutions of higher education. Staff and students, alike, have just about had it with being in school every day and all can smell a "spring" break of some kind lurking right around the corner. For some, home will do the trick and they will catch up on sleep, housework, book-reading, mall-walking, and hanging out with friends. Maybe catch a movie or two.
Others will vacation as families, often in warm and sunny climes, taking advantage of low travel rates and all-inclusive package deals. Singles and couples may follow this route, too, or head to exotic places where they can simply lie low, drink massive numbers of margaritas, and re-charge their batteries.
Whatever your form of madness is in March, we can all agree that it is a month in which to celebrate something - anything - as long as it signals the end of winter. Our closets should be at the ready with winter coats, warm mittens, snow boots, sandals, shorts, halter tops, and raincoats. Oh, yes - bathing suits, too.
Ancora imparo
March, as a month, seems to lend itself to insanity. First there is the March Madness component of the NCAA tournaments, then there is the weather. March is the month that Mother Nature throws the kitchen sink at the earth. There can be sun and temps in the high fifties, such as today, but she can also throw in strong winds, which she has done today. If our Aqua RV was in the water now, this would not be a good boating day for there would be, perhaps, gale-force winds. When Mother Nature gets the wind out of her system, she may choose either rain, snow or both. You just never know what each day will bring. If I were a meteorologist, March would be my least favorite month.
Another element of insanity in March takes place in our public school and our institutions of higher education. Staff and students, alike, have just about had it with being in school every day and all can smell a "spring" break of some kind lurking right around the corner. For some, home will do the trick and they will catch up on sleep, housework, book-reading, mall-walking, and hanging out with friends. Maybe catch a movie or two.
Others will vacation as families, often in warm and sunny climes, taking advantage of low travel rates and all-inclusive package deals. Singles and couples may follow this route, too, or head to exotic places where they can simply lie low, drink massive numbers of margaritas, and re-charge their batteries.
Whatever your form of madness is in March, we can all agree that it is a month in which to celebrate something - anything - as long as it signals the end of winter. Our closets should be at the ready with winter coats, warm mittens, snow boots, sandals, shorts, halter tops, and raincoats. Oh, yes - bathing suits, too.
Ancora imparo
Friday, March 9, 2012
For These, I Am Thankful
- I am thankful for small boxes, for they cannot hold more than I should carry.
- I am thankful that I was able to squash all of the live spiders that I found in the office I am cleaning out.
- I am thankful that all of the spiders were of the small variety and that I was wearing big-soled jogging shoes.
- I am thankful that I feel good after my "tests" yesterday that left little to the imagination about my insides.
- I am thankful that I can once again eat and drink whatever I please, whenever I please.
- I am thankful that the awful stuff from ten years ago has been replaced with stuff that is at least palatable.
- I am thankful that I do not keep catalogs from eleven years ago.
- I am thankful that I do not keep demo CD's from eleven years ago.
- I am thankful that the sixteen trips I made to the dumpster were in beautiful weather and constituted excellent exercise.
- I am thankful that I can now see the carpeting in the office that I am cleaning out.
- I am thankful that the dingy, ugly and dirty walls, in the office that I am cleaning out, are going to be painted.
- I am thankful that when I discovered all of the holes in the sixty-year old choir robes - that I thought I could salvage - all of the bug carcasses were just that and not live bugs.
- I am thankful that I was wearing black today when I worked through all of the dirty mess.
- I am thankful that I had a pleasant and relaxing breakfast with myself at my favorite restaurant.
- I am thankful that fresh asparagus is still only $1.29 a pound.
- I am thankful that gasoline is not over $4.00 a gallon.............................yet.
- I am thankful for my public radio station's classical music.
- I am thankful that I was not squeamish about unrolling the architectural plans I found behind the desk in the office that I am cleaning out.
- I am thankful that all of the spiders hanging out in the drawings were dead.
- I am thankful for the bug spray that I brought along today, for now I know that the two step-stools I use constantly will no longer have active spider nests underneath them.
- I am thankful that I was able to fiddle with the blinds in the office I am cleaning out and now they move up and down.
- I am thankful that I am not obsessing about how many spider eggs might be hiding in the blinds in the office that I am cleaning out. (This one might be a small fib. I think I am going to obsess about this possibility.)
- I am thankful that I had more energy today than I dreamed I could have!
- I am thankful for those who dream up Paper-Frog Olympics.
Ancora imparo
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Strange Bedfellows?
Olympia J. Snowe, United States Republican Senator from Maine - now there is a name to remember. She was first elected to the U.S. Senate in 1994 and in 2006, she was re-elected to her third, six-year term. She recently announced she would not seek re-election for a fourth term.
I am not writing about Senator Snowe as any commentary on the work she has accomplished or not accomplished. I am certain that, as with any national politician, she has her supporters and her detractors. Furthermore, I am confident that, within her home state of Maine, there are those who celebrated upon hearing her declaration that she would not run again. Such is life in the political limelight.
What disturbs me greatly is a statement she made in her announcement to not seek re-election. She has always been classified as a moderate and she cited the disappearance of "moderatism" (my term, not hers) as a reason for not running again. She went on to explain that the halls of congress have become so partisan that there was no room for moderates. Basically, folks, she was saying she had fought the great fight but was out of energy trying to keep a middle ground for policy on anything.
Must this polarization continue? Is the media to blame? Has our country become divided between what each side declares the other to be - flaming socialist liberals or red-necked, evangelical social conservatives? This whole mess reminds me of playground turf wars that occur in elementary school.
Why cannot our country discover what musicians discovered when music began? That all music need not - no, must not - go either fast or slow, and certainly not one or the other tempo all of the time. Our human psyche needs variations in tempi and, most importantly, needs a moderate tempo from time to time. Yes, there is a time and place when con fuoco (with fire) and vivace are important to the story line of life and there are times when adagio and lento are more suited to the story being told BUT there is also a place when andante (a walking tempo) and moderato are called for.
At present, our country is headed down a path controlled by "ludicrous speed", a term from the 1987 Mel Brooks comedy, Spaceballs. This ludicrous term perfectly describes the concept of going faster than one can handle and that is exactly what is happening on the political scene today.
Musicians learned long ago to work together. Do you think that within an orchestra or band there would not be disagreement on what tempos should be indicated? Of course there are, but the musicians instinctively understand that there must be a unified understanding of tempo otherwise several reactions occur, two of them being the music falls apart and the musicians lose their jobs.
Music and politics are not such strange bedfellows as one might think. Let's throw out the vivace and lento proponents and try the moderato and andante concepts. There just might be beautiful music somewhere in there.
Andantecora impartialparo
I am not writing about Senator Snowe as any commentary on the work she has accomplished or not accomplished. I am certain that, as with any national politician, she has her supporters and her detractors. Furthermore, I am confident that, within her home state of Maine, there are those who celebrated upon hearing her declaration that she would not run again. Such is life in the political limelight.
What disturbs me greatly is a statement she made in her announcement to not seek re-election. She has always been classified as a moderate and she cited the disappearance of "moderatism" (my term, not hers) as a reason for not running again. She went on to explain that the halls of congress have become so partisan that there was no room for moderates. Basically, folks, she was saying she had fought the great fight but was out of energy trying to keep a middle ground for policy on anything.
Must this polarization continue? Is the media to blame? Has our country become divided between what each side declares the other to be - flaming socialist liberals or red-necked, evangelical social conservatives? This whole mess reminds me of playground turf wars that occur in elementary school.
Why cannot our country discover what musicians discovered when music began? That all music need not - no, must not - go either fast or slow, and certainly not one or the other tempo all of the time. Our human psyche needs variations in tempi and, most importantly, needs a moderate tempo from time to time. Yes, there is a time and place when con fuoco (with fire) and vivace are important to the story line of life and there are times when adagio and lento are more suited to the story being told BUT there is also a place when andante (a walking tempo) and moderato are called for.
At present, our country is headed down a path controlled by "ludicrous speed", a term from the 1987 Mel Brooks comedy, Spaceballs. This ludicrous term perfectly describes the concept of going faster than one can handle and that is exactly what is happening on the political scene today.
Musicians learned long ago to work together. Do you think that within an orchestra or band there would not be disagreement on what tempos should be indicated? Of course there are, but the musicians instinctively understand that there must be a unified understanding of tempo otherwise several reactions occur, two of them being the music falls apart and the musicians lose their jobs.
Music and politics are not such strange bedfellows as one might think. Let's throw out the vivace and lento proponents and try the moderato and andante concepts. There just might be beautiful music somewhere in there.
Andantecora impartialparo
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Adieu, Old Friend
This is an obituary. No, not mine and not for any human. Rather this posting is an obituary for my favorite coat, which I let go today at a local department store's Goodwill Sale. Please know that this was not easy for me, lest you think to make light of my announcement.
This coat was with me for somewhere around sixteen years. Unfortunately for me, and my coat, it had begun to look very worn and was becoming increasingly difficult to keep clean-looking. I guess that sixteen years of coatsleeve grime, however frequently laundered, does accumulate......as does cuff fraying and ripped and mended pocket interiors. I took good care of my favorite coat and it took good care of me.
Over the past several years, I tried to find a suitable replacement for my coat. In fact, I have one coat hanging in my closet that tried to replace my older coat but just could not fill the bill, as they say.
Why was I so fond of this coat? Well, it was the perfect color -the cornflower blue enhanced my eye color, the weight of the fabric was perfect - even for year-round wear, it had Velcro on the sleeve cuffs - perfect for short-armed short people such as myself, it had zippered pockets - perfect for securing keys and other necessary stuff, it had a zippered front - no buttons to pop off or come loose, it had a Velcro-secured inner breast pocket - perfect for keeping currency or a cell phone safe, it had a hood and it was a perfect length for this shorty.
It was very difficult to part with my favorite coat but, part with it I did this morning......left it right on the shelf with the other donated garments from fellow shoppers. I knew if I did not leave it, I would bring it home with me and tomorrow I would still be wearing "Old, Faithful But Tacky". It remains a very serviceable garment and I hope it goes to a good home, with someone wearing it who really needs a good coat at a bargain price.
Adieu, Old Friend. Your replacement is adequate and looks better but will never take your place.
Ancora imparo
This coat was with me for somewhere around sixteen years. Unfortunately for me, and my coat, it had begun to look very worn and was becoming increasingly difficult to keep clean-looking. I guess that sixteen years of coatsleeve grime, however frequently laundered, does accumulate......as does cuff fraying and ripped and mended pocket interiors. I took good care of my favorite coat and it took good care of me.
Over the past several years, I tried to find a suitable replacement for my coat. In fact, I have one coat hanging in my closet that tried to replace my older coat but just could not fill the bill, as they say.
Why was I so fond of this coat? Well, it was the perfect color -the cornflower blue enhanced my eye color, the weight of the fabric was perfect - even for year-round wear, it had Velcro on the sleeve cuffs - perfect for short-armed short people such as myself, it had zippered pockets - perfect for securing keys and other necessary stuff, it had a zippered front - no buttons to pop off or come loose, it had a Velcro-secured inner breast pocket - perfect for keeping currency or a cell phone safe, it had a hood and it was a perfect length for this shorty.
It was very difficult to part with my favorite coat but, part with it I did this morning......left it right on the shelf with the other donated garments from fellow shoppers. I knew if I did not leave it, I would bring it home with me and tomorrow I would still be wearing "Old, Faithful But Tacky". It remains a very serviceable garment and I hope it goes to a good home, with someone wearing it who really needs a good coat at a bargain price.
Adieu, Old Friend. Your replacement is adequate and looks better but will never take your place.
Ancora imparo
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Just The "O", Not Snowe
My blog plan for today was to write about Maine's Republican Senator, Olympia Snowe, a moderate who just announced she would not run for re-election. Then I discovered that today is the 100th Birthday (or anniversary, whichever term you prefer) of the Oreo Cookie and I felt mysteriously drawn to write about the Oreo Cookie. (Once again, pizza won out over broccoli.)
I know few individuals - maybe none - who do not like Oreo Cookies. (True, those individuals with celiac disease and those with diabetes either cannot eat Oreos or must severely limit their intake of the packaged cookie.) The Oreo brand is produced by the Nabisco Division of Kraft Foods - a multi-faceted food conglomerate. Nabisco advertises the Oreo as a "cookie sandwich", not a "sandwich" cookie - how many people mistakenly refer to the Oreo as. Since the Oreo was "invented" around 1912, it has produced a rich history of recipes associated with it. Although one might think the Oreo is most popular with children and tweens/teens, a surprisingly high percentage of Oreo lovers are adults. I can remember feeding a number of adults before a concert this past Christmas season. I had lovingly and painstakingly made four different kinds of Christmas cookies and had them cleverly arranged on decorative plates. Once arranged, I decided that the plates needed more color and I subsequently purchased Christmas-colored Oreos. Guess which type of cookie disappeared first?
Of course, the cookie part is always dark - chocolate - in nature. It is the filling that changes color depending on the season. During the Holly Daze, you can purchase Oreos with red and green filling colors. Now, with Easter being the next major Fifth Avenue trap, you can purchase Oreos with spring-inspired, pastel-colored fillings.
Oreo cookies are the basis for some very tasty recipes, among them "Dirt" - a combination of crumbled Oreos, Cool Whip and gummy worms. Both kids and adults like "Dirt". Oreos also make the best basis for cheesecake - that is, if you want a dark-colored crust. Otherwise crumbled 'Nilla Wafers work well for a vanilla-themed crust. But, with a cheesecake filling, who cares about the crust? Lastly, there is little better tasting than crushed Oreos folded into softened vanilla ice cream.
Then there are the variations on how to eat an Oreo Cookie Sandwich.
How do you eat your Oreos? In one fell-swoop bite? Tiny bites around the circumference of the cookie? Two bites? Do you take apart your Oreo and lick off the filling from each side? Do you dip your Oreo, whole, into a glass of milk? Do you prefer to eat your Oreo with white or chocolate milk as a "side"?
Just as with eating pizza, people do have their own personal-preference procedures on how to eat their Oreo Cookie Sandwiches. I say if you have a procedure that gets the cookie from the package to your tummy, stick with it!
Happy Birthday, Oreo. I'll bring broccoli tomorrow.
Ancora imparo
I know few individuals - maybe none - who do not like Oreo Cookies. (True, those individuals with celiac disease and those with diabetes either cannot eat Oreos or must severely limit their intake of the packaged cookie.) The Oreo brand is produced by the Nabisco Division of Kraft Foods - a multi-faceted food conglomerate. Nabisco advertises the Oreo as a "cookie sandwich", not a "sandwich" cookie - how many people mistakenly refer to the Oreo as. Since the Oreo was "invented" around 1912, it has produced a rich history of recipes associated with it. Although one might think the Oreo is most popular with children and tweens/teens, a surprisingly high percentage of Oreo lovers are adults. I can remember feeding a number of adults before a concert this past Christmas season. I had lovingly and painstakingly made four different kinds of Christmas cookies and had them cleverly arranged on decorative plates. Once arranged, I decided that the plates needed more color and I subsequently purchased Christmas-colored Oreos. Guess which type of cookie disappeared first?
Of course, the cookie part is always dark - chocolate - in nature. It is the filling that changes color depending on the season. During the Holly Daze, you can purchase Oreos with red and green filling colors. Now, with Easter being the next major Fifth Avenue trap, you can purchase Oreos with spring-inspired, pastel-colored fillings.
Oreo cookies are the basis for some very tasty recipes, among them "Dirt" - a combination of crumbled Oreos, Cool Whip and gummy worms. Both kids and adults like "Dirt". Oreos also make the best basis for cheesecake - that is, if you want a dark-colored crust. Otherwise crumbled 'Nilla Wafers work well for a vanilla-themed crust. But, with a cheesecake filling, who cares about the crust? Lastly, there is little better tasting than crushed Oreos folded into softened vanilla ice cream.
Then there are the variations on how to eat an Oreo Cookie Sandwich.
How do you eat your Oreos? In one fell-swoop bite? Tiny bites around the circumference of the cookie? Two bites? Do you take apart your Oreo and lick off the filling from each side? Do you dip your Oreo, whole, into a glass of milk? Do you prefer to eat your Oreo with white or chocolate milk as a "side"?
Just as with eating pizza, people do have their own personal-preference procedures on how to eat their Oreo Cookie Sandwiches. I say if you have a procedure that gets the cookie from the package to your tummy, stick with it!
Happy Birthday, Oreo. I'll bring broccoli tomorrow.
Ancora imparo
Monday, March 5, 2012
Have Not Moved Past This, Yet
The lecture video that I wrote about yesterday came flashing back into my consciousness this morning while I was skimming through the posts on my Facebook page. The predictable recipe posters had been active after I went to bed last night. There was a post or two about Pinterest and the right/left-wingers were busy sharing their favorite articles and interviews espousing their points of view. Another person shared a post about some NFL football player that was arrested for murder in the Atlanta, Georgia area.
Pizza instead of broccoli...........and I was right there at the table, scarfing up the pizza as fast as my eyes could absorb it.
After I finished my Facebook visit, which took all of three minutes, I went to my Bookmarks and found the National Weather Service's page for my hometown. Bam! The lecture came zooming back into focus as I remembered a statement that the lecturer made: One of the most trusted sources of information today is the website for the National Weather Service. It serves up the facts, "just the facts, Mam". Even the Weather Channel is perceived to be accurate, as well. These two information-servers simply take the data that the satellites and other highly sophisticated equipment spew out and re-spew it to viewers and listeners. This is pure, unadulterated broccoli. Why, health-conscious grocery shoppers would most certainly consider this broccoli to be organic. No additives or chemical enhancements. No editorial slants. "Just the facts, Mam."
The Weather Channel and the National Weather Service are not fly-by-nights, either. These two entities enjoy some of the highest viewing numbers among cable channels and websites. People know that if they view or visit the Weather Channel or the National Weather Service website, they will get what they came for - the latest in meteorological information. Sure, the weather can change. Mother Nature is famous for her mercurial flip-flops, but at least her flip-flops are not related to winning an election and trying to obfuscate the facts.
All this to mull over and to think that the last thing I did last night before retiring to bed was to "do" the People Magazine Puzzler page.
Pizza right before bed. It is no wonder that I have heartburn.
Ancora imparo
Pizza instead of broccoli...........and I was right there at the table, scarfing up the pizza as fast as my eyes could absorb it.
After I finished my Facebook visit, which took all of three minutes, I went to my Bookmarks and found the National Weather Service's page for my hometown. Bam! The lecture came zooming back into focus as I remembered a statement that the lecturer made: One of the most trusted sources of information today is the website for the National Weather Service. It serves up the facts, "just the facts, Mam". Even the Weather Channel is perceived to be accurate, as well. These two information-servers simply take the data that the satellites and other highly sophisticated equipment spew out and re-spew it to viewers and listeners. This is pure, unadulterated broccoli. Why, health-conscious grocery shoppers would most certainly consider this broccoli to be organic. No additives or chemical enhancements. No editorial slants. "Just the facts, Mam."
The Weather Channel and the National Weather Service are not fly-by-nights, either. These two entities enjoy some of the highest viewing numbers among cable channels and websites. People know that if they view or visit the Weather Channel or the National Weather Service website, they will get what they came for - the latest in meteorological information. Sure, the weather can change. Mother Nature is famous for her mercurial flip-flops, but at least her flip-flops are not related to winning an election and trying to obfuscate the facts.
All this to mull over and to think that the last thing I did last night before retiring to bed was to "do" the People Magazine Puzzler page.
Pizza right before bed. It is no wonder that I have heartburn.
Ancora imparo
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Pizza or Broccoli?
Occasionally an email will float into my screen that carries with it content of great import. Such a communication came my way this morning. It was a link to a lecture given before a room full of journalists. The video didn't start close enough to the gentleman's opening remarks for me to ascertain who he was or where he was speaking. His topic, while somewhat hard to grasp, was clear enough to really make me think.
The basic gist of his talk was that media outlets, in our country, are feeding us pablum and a gradual dumbing down of American is taking place right before our very eyes. He used the analogy of pizza versus broccoli and which food would be the most palatable to the highest number of people. Of course, the majority of people would choose pizza over broccoli and restaurants and grocers know this so pizza is offered far more frequently in restaurants than broccoli and grocers offer dozens of different pizza brands and offer sales on pizza more than most other commodities. Why? Because consumers demand pizza over broccoli so marketing gurus keep giving us pizza when broccoli would be far healthier than pizza. The lecturer draws this pizza/broccoli analogy to media information. Media outlets, both blue and red, feed American political consumers (aka voters) information they demand and not what is really good for us................"the facts, Mam, just give me the facts."
The lecturer argues that we are losing our collective intelligence because we are being fed news junque because we demand it. More internet "hits" go to news junque than factual web sites that are noted for their accuracy and straight-forward deliveries.
The sad, frustrating and yes, scary part of this lecture is that the gentleman is correct. We are losing our collective intelligence and I am right there as part of the problem and not part of the solution. When given the choice, I will search for news on the Honeymoon Killer sooner than I will search for the Congressional Record. I am part of the insatiable demand for news pablum and junque.
When did my switch happen from independent thinker to comatose sheep?
Where are you on this continuum?
Ancora imparo
The basic gist of his talk was that media outlets, in our country, are feeding us pablum and a gradual dumbing down of American is taking place right before our very eyes. He used the analogy of pizza versus broccoli and which food would be the most palatable to the highest number of people. Of course, the majority of people would choose pizza over broccoli and restaurants and grocers know this so pizza is offered far more frequently in restaurants than broccoli and grocers offer dozens of different pizza brands and offer sales on pizza more than most other commodities. Why? Because consumers demand pizza over broccoli so marketing gurus keep giving us pizza when broccoli would be far healthier than pizza. The lecturer draws this pizza/broccoli analogy to media information. Media outlets, both blue and red, feed American political consumers (aka voters) information they demand and not what is really good for us................"the facts, Mam, just give me the facts."
The lecturer argues that we are losing our collective intelligence because we are being fed news junque because we demand it. More internet "hits" go to news junque than factual web sites that are noted for their accuracy and straight-forward deliveries.
The sad, frustrating and yes, scary part of this lecture is that the gentleman is correct. We are losing our collective intelligence and I am right there as part of the problem and not part of the solution. When given the choice, I will search for news on the Honeymoon Killer sooner than I will search for the Congressional Record. I am part of the insatiable demand for news pablum and junque.
When did my switch happen from independent thinker to comatose sheep?
Where are you on this continuum?
Ancora imparo
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Too Much Of A Good Thing
Do you ever find the vastness of the internet to be overwhelming? A person can literally learn about ANYTHING on the internet - good or bad. The internet has moved waaaaay past the days when my children would just explore it to find information about a school-related topic. Now, I cannot even begin to describe what you can find out about and who you can locate.
One of the websites I hear and see a lot of chatter about is Pinterest. After weeks of seeing Facebook chatter about the site, plus listening to in person conversations about Pinterest, I took the time to look into it myself. Pinterest is akin to information overload. I have friends - real friends - who spend hours a day surfing the site, getting ideas from how to make a costume to recipes to craft-type ideas. I don't think there is anything you cannot find out about on Pinterest.
What I want to know is who has time to do all of the stuff that you can find on Pinterest? I have my hands full with what I am involved in, all of the projects that are either unfinished or never started, more recipes than I'll ever make in this lifetime, and more craft-type stuff on my shelves than I really have room for.
Funny thing is that I was much craftier in my younger years. Obviously, before I had children I had plenty of discretionary time, especially after Capt. SO and I moved to a new state and I could not find a full-time teaching job. I took craft lessons and sewed up storm after storm. Even after the children were born I still found time to sew garments for all four of us and make seasonal craft items. Somewhere along the line, my time became consumed with other interests and responsibilities and how I filled my limited discretionary time became much more complicated. Now that I am retired, it sometimes feels as if I have less discretionary time than ever.
Yes, yes, I know the word discretionary is just that - choices, choices, choices. I have the ability to choose how I spend my time, what I spend my time on and with whom I spend my time. Pinterest just has too many choices and ideas. All great, yes - too many for certain!
Ancora imparo
One of the websites I hear and see a lot of chatter about is Pinterest. After weeks of seeing Facebook chatter about the site, plus listening to in person conversations about Pinterest, I took the time to look into it myself. Pinterest is akin to information overload. I have friends - real friends - who spend hours a day surfing the site, getting ideas from how to make a costume to recipes to craft-type ideas. I don't think there is anything you cannot find out about on Pinterest.
What I want to know is who has time to do all of the stuff that you can find on Pinterest? I have my hands full with what I am involved in, all of the projects that are either unfinished or never started, more recipes than I'll ever make in this lifetime, and more craft-type stuff on my shelves than I really have room for.
Funny thing is that I was much craftier in my younger years. Obviously, before I had children I had plenty of discretionary time, especially after Capt. SO and I moved to a new state and I could not find a full-time teaching job. I took craft lessons and sewed up storm after storm. Even after the children were born I still found time to sew garments for all four of us and make seasonal craft items. Somewhere along the line, my time became consumed with other interests and responsibilities and how I filled my limited discretionary time became much more complicated. Now that I am retired, it sometimes feels as if I have less discretionary time than ever.
Yes, yes, I know the word discretionary is just that - choices, choices, choices. I have the ability to choose how I spend my time, what I spend my time on and with whom I spend my time. Pinterest just has too many choices and ideas. All great, yes - too many for certain!
Ancora imparo
Friday, March 2, 2012
Late-Night Trips
Can there be too much of a good thing? Probably, but will it stop Capt. SO and me? Probably not.
The good thing to which I am referring are our not infrequent trips north to hear our Favorite Eldest Daughter sing and perform. The groups she performs with are top-notch and beyond and it is always a joy and a pleasure to listen to the musical treats she and they serve up on a regular basis.
We are oft tempted to think seriously about moving north (which means changing states) in order to more easily avail ourselves of the music scene that her city affords night after night and multiple times - if not dozens of times - per night. You can find any genre of high-quality music in her city that you could imagine or desire. The issue for Capt. SO and I is that music gigs do not ascribe to the schedules of most people over fifty. Musicians do march to a different chronological clock. Their brains may not come awake until after noon and they expect to stay up far past midnight. This internal clock does not mesh well with the internal clocks of people past fifty. True, some past-fiftians (my word) can and do stay up until all hours of the night and have plenty of energy late-night and early morning. But for the rest of us, remaining awake during hours when we would normally be sound asleep is taxing to both the body and the brain.
Driving home on these late nights, it is usually Capt. SO at the wheel. I always offer to drive and he always declines my offers, telling me that I should just talk to keep him awake, which turns out to be challenging for both of us. When asked how he is doing, he'll respond, "I've only dozed a dozen times." So reassuring.
Will we stop going to hear Favorite Eldest Daughter perform? Not likely. Will her gigs ever begin at OF-preferable times, such as 5 or 6 p.m.? No. Maybe the option is to move?
Gotta think about this one.
Ancora imparo
The good thing to which I am referring are our not infrequent trips north to hear our Favorite Eldest Daughter sing and perform. The groups she performs with are top-notch and beyond and it is always a joy and a pleasure to listen to the musical treats she and they serve up on a regular basis.
We are oft tempted to think seriously about moving north (which means changing states) in order to more easily avail ourselves of the music scene that her city affords night after night and multiple times - if not dozens of times - per night. You can find any genre of high-quality music in her city that you could imagine or desire. The issue for Capt. SO and I is that music gigs do not ascribe to the schedules of most people over fifty. Musicians do march to a different chronological clock. Their brains may not come awake until after noon and they expect to stay up far past midnight. This internal clock does not mesh well with the internal clocks of people past fifty. True, some past-fiftians (my word) can and do stay up until all hours of the night and have plenty of energy late-night and early morning. But for the rest of us, remaining awake during hours when we would normally be sound asleep is taxing to both the body and the brain.
Driving home on these late nights, it is usually Capt. SO at the wheel. I always offer to drive and he always declines my offers, telling me that I should just talk to keep him awake, which turns out to be challenging for both of us. When asked how he is doing, he'll respond, "I've only dozed a dozen times." So reassuring.
Will we stop going to hear Favorite Eldest Daughter perform? Not likely. Will her gigs ever begin at OF-preferable times, such as 5 or 6 p.m.? No. Maybe the option is to move?
Gotta think about this one.
Ancora imparo
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Blinkers, Blunders, Black, Brochures and Breakfast
What a jumble of thoughts are in my head. They feel like a yarn mess that a frisky kitten might create if left alone in a yarn store. Oddly enough, the coagulated thoughts all fit into the categories of blinkers, blunders, black, brochures and breakfast. The day has been a blur, like a DVD on fast forward and no one can find the stop or pause button.
It started with breakfast with a friend, not an "old" friend but a long-time friend whom I have not had the time to sit and jabber with for far too long. We held each other verbally hostage until our breath was nearly spent then we parted, each to move on to the next item on a list.
As I was driving about the country and city today, mostly in heavier work-time traffic, I could not help but notice how many drivers do not use their directional signals, even though they weave through traffic like a teenager on a skateboard. I observed several near-misses and was just glad that all of the near-misses occurred far enough in front of me to be easily avoided had they occurred.
I went shopping, looking for a black ensemble in which to direct and was far too successful. Funny thing about shopping - sometimes bargains just present themselves and cannot be ignored. How a Calvin Klein leisure outfit fits the bill of a conducting ensemble is beyond me. Could that be a blunder? I think not!
One of my other stops was to a financial institution to get some information on accounts that are offered there. I was inundated with brochures. I guess that when a person walks in off the street, sort of like an unintended "cold call", the person at the information desk is instructed or encouraged to collect as many advertising brochures as are available and thrust them into the hands of the person inquiring about the bank and its services.
Yes, there were just a couple of blunders committed by well-meaning store clerks today. Clerks who were simply just not thinking......or they were thinking......about things other than their jobs. Not to worry though - it did not dampen my blissful day filled with blinkers, blunders, black, brochures, and breakfast!
Ancora imparo
It started with breakfast with a friend, not an "old" friend but a long-time friend whom I have not had the time to sit and jabber with for far too long. We held each other verbally hostage until our breath was nearly spent then we parted, each to move on to the next item on a list.
As I was driving about the country and city today, mostly in heavier work-time traffic, I could not help but notice how many drivers do not use their directional signals, even though they weave through traffic like a teenager on a skateboard. I observed several near-misses and was just glad that all of the near-misses occurred far enough in front of me to be easily avoided had they occurred.
I went shopping, looking for a black ensemble in which to direct and was far too successful. Funny thing about shopping - sometimes bargains just present themselves and cannot be ignored. How a Calvin Klein leisure outfit fits the bill of a conducting ensemble is beyond me. Could that be a blunder? I think not!
One of my other stops was to a financial institution to get some information on accounts that are offered there. I was inundated with brochures. I guess that when a person walks in off the street, sort of like an unintended "cold call", the person at the information desk is instructed or encouraged to collect as many advertising brochures as are available and thrust them into the hands of the person inquiring about the bank and its services.
Yes, there were just a couple of blunders committed by well-meaning store clerks today. Clerks who were simply just not thinking......or they were thinking......about things other than their jobs. Not to worry though - it did not dampen my blissful day filled with blinkers, blunders, black, brochures, and breakfast!
Ancora imparo
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