The Blog: Spellbound by our own imperfect lives...

I expected ennui. I did not expect to be so sad. The sucking sound of my imminent departure and the energy rushing to fill the void is oppressive. Regis says this is to be expected and will probably pass quickly as the warm weather arrives and we’re able to start grilling on the patio again. I think he is most likely right about that. To that end, we’re planning a party to celebrate the 78 th  anniversary of the Repeal of Prohibition. On the 7 th  day of April, in the year 1933, our wise government decreed beer to be legal once again.  December 5, 1933 is another commonly celebrated day because that is when ALL alcohol was made legal. Neither Regis or I drink beer anymore but we do appreciate it’s many virtues. So, it is ironic that I have the kind of day I had today. It makes me feel less sadness and blast it, even less ennui about leaving my job. I feel damn near euphoric right now.   I was in the lunch room nuking my meatballs and I heard someone say, "My son got in troub

You may remember that I almost punched a guy in the nose for suggesting that I might be a member of the red hat club because I was wearing a red hat. Not really, but I thought about it. I am thinking now, of starting a purple pants club. I have a pair of shiny purple leggings that look like something you might wear to dance around a pole. Funny, no? I went to a conference last week and it occurred to me this morning that the toilets at MSU flush so suddenly and so ferociously that you are lucky to have all your body parts and your clothing in tact when you emerge from the stall. Better not accidentally drop a scarf end or a shirt tail into the toilet or you could find yourself with an insider’s view of MSU’s plumbing system. I laughed out loud when I thought of this. We went on Friday to visit my mom in Canby. We had beautiful weather for travel. The roads were dry, the skies were blue, and the sun was shining. Lovely. We did see massive amounts of water…creeks overflowing their b

I drove two friends of mine to a conference today. When I took the car seats out of the back seat, I found the lost 300 dollar check on the floor. Whew. It must have slipped out of my jacket pocket. Lesson learned and note to self. The conference was interesting. At first, I thought I might be too cynical for it to be productive. I sat in the front row which is a good thing for a person as easily distracted as I am. I like to spread out and stretch my legs and it helps me pay attention. I learned a lot. I'll try to disseminate the information before I exit stage left on June 30. The lunch, one of the highlights for me, was amazing. A lovely salad, a nice piece of rare beef with crab and Hollandaise sauce on top, and the most beautiful broccoli ever. The desert, which I did not eat, came with some kind of orchid-like flower on top. Pretty fancy for school teacher types. Contrary to my expectations, the sun shone brightly today and we did not experience any precipitation or unt

We had a wonderful time with Elliot this weekend. Also got to spend some time with Ella. She came for the afternoon Saturday and helped with her cousin. She went to Mankato with us Monday afternoon so I could get a haircut. We stopped in Penney's and bought her an Easter hat, a little sun dress, and a pretty purse. Elliot's mama finally made it back to Minnesota from Florida. It was a stressful journey that involved a missed flight, an overnight in Chicago, and several frantic phone calls. Elliot is happy to be back in his own nest. The Board accepted my letter of retirement. What else would they do? Insist that I keep working? Ha! Monday night, we had huge thunder and spectacular lightening. In the morning, we had ice pellets and torrential rain. All day the wind was horrific. The forecast threatens snow and the floodwaters are encroaching. Spring will come eventually, right? We feel like every day we have to grit our teeth and just get through it. This has been the long

Elliot and I went to visit our friends Gabriel and Joanne in LeSueur this morning where he shot a few hoops in the living room.  After we played with Gabe's toys, we went for a walk in the cold sunshine. We stopped at the Friendly Confines on our way out of town. I'm out of practice with wrestling a two-year old, a large purse, and a bag of cheese.

I’m going to post a slideshow from the St. Patrick’s Day Parade. You can see it is the usual madness. What fun. We always hang out in from of Patrick’s (where everybody knows your name…). You can also see that it’s hard to tell when the parade ends and the audience starts! It was a hoot. Emily, Ella, and Alex came down. Ella loved my get-up but Alex was scared of me and would not even look at my face without the glasses. I think it was disconcerting for him to see his Popop with a redhead. We stood next to a bunch of crazy young people. They were attired in all manner of green wigs and green face paint and green whatevers. Every time a band or float would pass by, one of them would jump out in front of it and be the drum major only using a beer glass for a baton. Hilarious. We traveled to Mankato for the LepreCON. I was a little disappointed but I think I had built this up in my head to be the lollapalooza of all time and it just wasn’t. And for people who work at a costume compa

I am frantically searching for an old address book. I had the phone number for a Japanese student from Gustavus we were the host family for many years ago. I have lost touch with her so have no email address. I don't know how to search for a phone number in Japan because the webpages for that are all in Japanese. Maybe this is fruitless, but I want to tell her if she needs to leave Tokyo, she is welcome to come here. I feel like I need to do something and Regis says people are leaving Tokyo in droves. How long would it take to evacuate a city of six million people and where would they all go? I find myself looking for things. Looking for crazy things. Not just this address and phone number but this morning, I was so determined to find an essay by Thomas Lynch about his cat Grimalkin, that I was almost late for work. I just would not stop. I may have given the book to someone to read ( Bodies at Rest, Bodies in Motion ...I think) and I had to stop myself from buying it again ra

Here is my St. Patrick's Day costume for the costume company pub crawl. Get a load of the heels on those shoes. Wine consumption with be kept to a minimum or Regis will be hauling my sorry ass around town on a two-wheel cart. That would not be good for my school marm reputation. I emailed the photo to friends (David and Marilyn, AKA Bob and Betty) yesterday at their request and they sent this in response: (To be spoken with an Irish accent, of course.) May the Irish eyes be smilin' upon yeh! May the beer be the same color as your shoes! May the red of your hair match the blush of your cheeks! May the stripes in your stockin's always be parallel to the ground! May your glass always be half-full! May the end of the rainbow be within your reach! May the pot of gold be there, too! May your smile brighten every dark corner! Your friends, Bob and Betty I love the line about the stripes in my stockin's always being parallel to the ground! What a hoot. So

Thank you. I love you. I find comfort in visualizing Regis right there beside you. The dermatologist folks just returned my call...finally. The medical assistant who called was very comforting. She acted as if she had all day to talk to just me. In a nutshell...allergic reaction to the medication, stress of the illness, stress of the circumstances...all combined to result in trauma, hair loss. She talked of how common a reaction this is...said the skin should cycle...said that I need to do everything I can do to relieve the stressers. So. I intended to start walking again, so here we go. Sense of humor, please stop by. Write, Read. Write to Devin and Hiroe every day. Send them things. Hold baby Brogan. Hold Riley's hand. Remember how lucky I am. Thank you.

Oh, God, Jane. I'm not sure there is a good perspective. It's a terrible, awful, horrific tragedy but Devin and Hiroe and Grace are all safe for today. For that you can be thankful. You have to have hope that they will continue to be safe or you will fall apart, my friend. You have to be strong so when they call, your voice is strong and they know that you have hope. You are going to be an important lifeline for them. One thing I always do in times like this, is look for words that help me. Go back to your poetry and your books. Find things that touched you and read them again. Write them down and share them with Devin and Hiroe and with the rest of us who are worrying with you. Your writing yesterday was beautiful and poignant. Keep doing that...putting your heart on the paper. It will keep you sane. You are in my heart every minute.

Dear, dear friend, your card today and your words now are balm to a sad and weary soul. Thank you for loving me, us, mine. I am numb. I just wrote to Paul and told him that I think that Devin and Hiroe and Gracie need to just pack their bags and come home. They can have the little house. Grandma and Gracie will sit in the porch swing and sing a little song, tell a little story of once upon a time. I will get back to you soon. Jane 

It's been a a terrible few days. I talked to Jane Friday morning but I was afraid to call as I didn't remember exactly where Devin and Hiroe lived. What if it was one of the places washed away by the tsunami? This morning, I had an email that said her hair was falling out from stress and she wanted me to help her get some perspective. How is that possible?  I have called almost every day...she sounded so good today and so much better than yesterday. She was going for a walk in the sunshine, sleeping better at night, making lists of hopeful things. I feel helpless. I can't imagine having a child, a sweet daughter-in-law, and a grandbaby living there now. They live about 150 miles from the Fukishima reactor. I'm not sure I spelled it right. I didn't ask today if they are able to go to work. Hiroe's mom and brother are with them. This is a long-awaited baby...they have wanted a baby for years and both Devin and Hiroe are in their mid-forties which only adds some po

I’m not sure what this should be called. Paradox is probably not it. I’ve been thinking about happiness and not chasing happiness. I am excited about St. Patrick’s Day and have my leprechaun costume ready for the parade in St. Peter and the pub crawl in Mankato. The news from Japan is absolutely horrifying. I can’t even look at the front page of the paper today. I had to turn mpr off on Sunday because the stories are so sad I cried. I tried to read some about it but almost choked it was so horrible. There aren’t words. Jane’s son, Devin and his wife and new baby are living in Togichi, just north of Tokyo. They are fine for now, have water, power, and gas for cooking. Devin’s wife’s mother and brother are with them. Devin sent an email that sounded almost upbeat and contained a few funny stories. I wonder if they can’t fathom yet the magnitude of what has happened. I wonder if that’s what you do in situations like this. Jane wants them to come back to live in Iowa where it’s fla

What the hell. I hate this darkness in the morning. I can get dark at 8 o'clock for all I care but I want it light in the morning. We're going to buy groceries but I refuse to leave the house in the dark. On the menu this week: jambalaya, pot roast, corned beef and cabbage, fajitas.That will take us through next Sunday. I think my St. Patrick's Day outfit is complete. I didn't find the right scarf but the one I found will have to do. If I have been thinking, I could have ordered something. But I wasn't and I didn't. We had such a lovely Saturday. I spent the morning in the kitchen and went to the basement to exercise early afternoon. Regis hooked up a new wireless printer (amazing). We headed to Mankato about 3. I dropped a book off for Tiffany at Sam's Club. What a zoo. I haven't been in there for years because really, why does a person need a bag of cheese curls the size of a five-year old? I stopped at Shopko. My friends think I need to dr

I worked on my menu for the week and my grocery list this morning. Cooking sort of fell apart this last week so I needed to get in the kitchen, clean out the refrigerator, and start fresh. I like to cook on the weekends so we have good, healthy food for the week. This is an egg bake made with cottage cheese and shredded cheese. I put a little bacon in it this time, too, and some fresh salsa so it has a bite. These are pancakes made with oatmeal and cottage cheese and lots of eggs. I don't know why they turn out differently each time I make them, but they do. They're really dense this time so I will probably cut them into quarters and package them like that. I like to take them to work for a mid-morning snack. These are muffins I make with almond meal, flax meal, and oatmeal. They also have dried blueberries, walnuts, eggs, and yogurt in them. The recipe calls for artificial sweetener but I don't like the taste of that so I leave it out. I'll never get a job as

Regis and I were having a conversation about happiness last night. He read me this quote: There are lots of ways of being miserable, but there's only one way of being comfortable, and that is to stop running round after happiness. If you make up your mind to not be happy, there's no reason why you shouldn't have a fairly good time. Edith Wharton (1862-19040 I said that I think I have always been a pleasure seeker. I said it as if it was a confession for a sin but I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing. Then, this morning, I was talking to my friend Joanne. Another friend of hers is having some significant problems with a young adult child and she herself is very ill. She stopped writing Christmas letters a few years back because she just could not think of what to say about any of it. My thinking on that is this: Even in the midst of life’s tough times, we have to find joy or what is the point of life? We’re just swirling around the drain in dark and murky water i

I wrote the title for this post, then put it in google. Technically, the dog days are in the summer, the hottest , most sultry days of summer. Clearly, not accurate. Then I put doldrums in google. Doldrums are a state of inactivity or stagnation. Yes, that fits. I was in the blackest mood yesterday for no particular reason. Well, a few sort of lame reasons. Steve said something to me Monday night that sent me into orbit, then haunted me all day yesterday. I think I've swept it from my head now. I woke up and the weather was bleak, bleak, bleak. No color. No sun. No warmth. I bought myself roses at noon. It helped. I went into the flower shop intending to buy tulips or something springy. The red roses were just too gorgeous and I couldn't pass them up for $3 each. So, if you're floundering in the doldrums, get thee to a flower shop and buy yourself some spring! I keep threatening to stop posting the updates on the bunny in the yard but if I skip a day, I get Facebook

Regis and I were sitting in the living room last night and I said it was nice to see that it's still light out at 6:00 but it would be nice if there weren't two feet of snow yet. Seriously, isn't this getting to be a bit of a pain in the ass? Let me just rant for a minute. I'm tired of heavy coats and heavy sweaters and boots (not the hot kind) and mittens. I'm tired of starting the car. I'm tired of being inside. I want to sit on the patio in the evening and watch the birds. If they all haven't starved or frozen to death, that is. I can't get to the can that holds our bird feed so the poor things, I hope they have been eating at John's. He probably puts out a better spread anyway. Two scruffy squirrels have been foraging in our flat feeder. I don't know if they're old or just looking ratty from the end of winter, like the rest of us. Their tails look a little thin and their ears are white. I think when I go to Mankato, I'll buy some co

Antilamentation by  Dorianne Laux Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read to the end just to find out who killed the cook, not the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark, in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication, not the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot, the one you beat to the punch line, the door or the one who left you in your red dress and shoes, the ones that crimped your toes, don't regret those. Not the nights you called god names and cursed your mother, sunk like a dog in the living room couch, chewing your nails and crushed by loneliness. You were meant to inhale those smoky nights over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches. You've walked those streets a thousand times and still you end up here. Regret none of it, not one of the wasted days you wanted to know nothing, when the lights fr

I had to write what I wrote in that last post. It keeps coming up in my conversations, in my dreams, in my rants after a glass of wine. I had to write it. I told Regis the other night that I really want to let it go. Letting that much poison live in your head is not healthy. I am letting it go now.

We had a nice dinner last night with Jim and Kay at the Cedar's Grille. I had the Mediterranean platter from the appetizer menu and it was delicious. We decided to stop at Patrick's for a drink after dinner but when we walked in, it was packed with revelers from the Bockfest in New Ulm. At least we surmised that's where they had been as they were mostly in their cups. There was a waiting list which upon which we did not want to be. While I went to the restroom, Regis invited Jim and Kay back to our house. When he told me this, I'm quite sure I looked like a deer in the headlights. Some people keep their homes in a way that company could come any time and they would not suffer mortification. I am not one of them. Our house is clean, thanks to Jan, but we tend to leave a trail of stuff everywhere we go. We had disrupted the living room in the afternoon to take some pictures of me in my St. Patrick's Day garb so it looked like the place had been looted. Ah, well.

Here's a bunny update for my blog fans who are not Facebook fans. Ah, I have such a web presence for an old gal. A friend of mine on Facebook, who does not read the blog, wrote this about my green shoes: Did you know the all female Krewe of Muses throws "tarted up shoes" during their Mardi Gras parade in New Orleans? When I'm there next year I'll try to catch one for you. I love that description "tarted up shoes". So, here are my tarted up shoes...again. This afternoon, I'm going to try on my complete St. Patrick's Day get-up but the pictures won't be released to the public quite yet.

I mailed in my TRA application about February 25th because for some reason, I had it in my head that it had to be there by March 1st. Today I got a big envelope back from them with a blank application and a letter saying that I had applied too early and had to reapply after March 2nd. What the hell. So what did they do with the other application? They didn't send it back so I have to create this damn thing again. Holy hell. Does this make sense? Same thing with an application I have to do for school. Every year, it has to be sent in after July 1st. One year, I sent it a day or two early and they sent it back and told me to resubmit it after July 1st. They couldn't let it sit on the desk for two days? To say nothing of the fact that each year, it is exactly the same application, just with a different date. Bureaucrats, I tell ya. They deserve some fresh kind of hell. I decided not to go to the Pulse at 7 this morning. I have been there four days this week at 5 a.m. and I'

I was telling stories last night and Tom suggested I write a post and call it the nuts and bolts of my life. Good title, I thought. It comes from a story about a character I remember from my hometown. Peculiar people were not held in such suspicion in those days. They were just allowed to do their odd things and nobody bothered them too much. Doris wore a fur coat all summer long. She rolled her nylons around her knees and marched rapidly down the sidewalks, puffing a cigarette. She swore under her breath in a most scandalous manner and of course, this fascinated us, so we walked discreetly behind her, trying to catch every son-of-a-bitch and god-damn. She lived in a huge old house with flapping shutters and chipping paint. This is my memory, of course, and we all know it's not too reliable. I exaggerate for effect. Mom's memory of the above story is that Doris was naked beneath the fur coat. I either never knew or had forgotten that part. Maybe she wasn't into flashi

It was just a little bit above zero when I got up this morning. It barely got above ten degrees this afternoon. And we thought spring was coming. Paul Douglas says this March will not be like last March. No kidding. Here's the bunny update: Regis is reading me the forecast which sounds grim, indeed. An inch of moisture and high winds next week. An inch of moisture translates to an obscene amount of you-know-what. I made chicken parmesan for dinner. Very simple Rachel Ray recipe except that I didn't know what a chicken cutlet was. Regis knew, having experienced this dish in the past. I don't know how it slipped by me. He says it's an Italian dish so there you go. No wonder. I'm not much for ordering chicken out in any kind of cuisine. I made myself some seared ahi tuna which was delicious and enough to make lunch for the next two days. Regis has a bad Catholic history with fish of any kind but tuna especially. I buy a better quality of canned tuna now than I d