Arctic

It's colder than hell here today, Miles. I mean heck. I shouldn't cuss in front of a baby but when the wind chill is 20 below, it's warranted. I was going to a K-12 legislative finances hearing tonight but you get a buy (or is that a bye, sports fans?) when it's this cold. Who cares.

We watched A Mighty Heart last night. The reviews were good (Roger Ebert) but we weren't too fond of it. It was a powerful and tragic story but not such a great movie. Tonight we have Amazing Grace. I'm famous for picking clinkers and both of these were my picks.

Amazing Grace is the story of William Wilberforce, an 18th-century English politician who fought for the abolition of slavery. It sounds boring but it's very good. Two thumbs up.

Sunday

I think I have my sleep mojo back. The last two nights I have slept hard...even had dreams and then trouble waking up to the alarm. That never happens. Usually my eyes pop open and I feel like I haven't been asleep at all. I took a nap today that was like being sedated. Let's hope it lasts.

Regis and I are back to our weekly cooking. Today we made soft pretzels (Martha Stewart's recipe) and white lasagna. The last one is a recipe the success of which remains to be seen. We left out the chicken and the dry white wine and anytime I make adjustments, I get confused. Regis said he'd take pictures so those will be posted later.

I'm going to try having a menu for the week and the groceries purchasing done on Sunday. We'll see how that goes since it seems to be in contrast to my random personality. One thing I enjoy is keeping binders of recipes and notes about what went well and what didn't. I think I can do it like that and it won't feel like a chore. Again, we'll see.

Reggie turns 30 this week on Thursday so we celebrated last night at their apartment. Amber made a delicious meal, her parents were there along with Bob and Emily and Ella, and Glen. We had a good time. Let's see...I'm married to a guy with a son who is 30 years old. That makes Regis an oooold guy. How did this happen? Where did my youth go? And who's that old lady in the mirror?

Books

The Summer He Didn't Die
Jim Harrison

Pretty Birds
Scott Simon

Safekeeping: Some True Stories from a Life
Abigail Thomas

The Trouble with Poetry and Other Poems
Billy Collins

Parliament of Whores: A Lone Humorist Attempts to Explain the Entire U. S. Government
P. J. O'Rourke, Andrew Ferguson

Tracks
Louise Erdrich

The Grace of Grass and Water: Writing in Honor of Paul Gruchow
Thomas Dean (Editor), Carol Bly, Mark Vinz, Paul Gruchow, Bob Artley

A Thousand Years Over a Hot Stove: A History of American Women Told through Food, Recipes, and Remembrances
Laura Schenone

Regis bought me a gift certificate to Barnes and Noble again this year. I don't know of a present I enjoy more. I usually spend an afternoon after Christmas looking at the lists of award winners, new books by favorite authors, picks by staff at favorite bookstores, and online reviews. I have a list of about twenty books at the end and then I go to the store and spend an hour picking out what I want.

This year I got them online because I got irritated at the new Barnes and Noble store. I won't go into the reasons (see cranky post below). The list is above and I think it's one of my better years. I got some fiction, some non-fiction, some memoir, and a book of poems although I made a mistake and bought the paperback instead of the hard cover. That's my feeble attempt at supporting poetry and poets...buying one hard cover book a year.

Our neighbors Mike and Erin had a baby on New Year's Eve Day. They named her Katherine Nova, as in supernova. Cool name. Not like saddling a baby with a bizarre first name like Sandlot but a cool middle name.

My friend Jan Bjorling died last Friday night. I'm pretending that she hasn't passed, but is just busy somewhere else. I guess that's true in a way...anyway it's a nice way to think about her. She's reading at the library or looking for new stuff for the garden or tossing milkweed fluff off the deck into the wind or drinking tea at the River Rock...or Manhattans at Whiskey River. Any of those things. But not gone.

Regis is going out to blow the one inch of mucky snow we had today. It was pretty coming down but it didn't amount to much but a nuisance snow. He likes to blow snow especially in the dark. Our snow blower has a halogen headlight so it's a manly sort of task. Grab that thing by the horns and off you go.

Here I go...new books and a glass of wine and some of that Dark Chocolate with Intense Orange.

So you don't think I'm cranky all the time: things that soothe me

1. My dog curled up on the couch. How a twenty-pound dog can curl into such a tight circle that you can hardly tell where he starts and ends is amazing. He's always happy to see me and even if I just took the garbage down to the curb, he acts like I've been gone for months.
2. The smell of garlic and onions on my hands. I've resisted the urge to buy an electric food chopper. Can't remember the name right now. I know it would be a time saver but there's something about the smell of onions, garlic, and all those other things that take time to mince and chop that I love.
3. Candles. We had our furnace ducts cleaned about ten years ago and the guy wrote on the receipt, "Burns candles"! Holy shit. Like we committed a mortal sin. I love the flicker and the smell and the gentle light.
4. Red wine and chocolate. I just discovered the Lindt Excellence Dark Chocolate with Intense Orange with slivers of almonds. Oh my. With a small glass of red wine, it's heaven.
5. A good story. I reread Kent Haruf's books over Christmas vacation. I want to email Robert Redford and tell him that The Tie that Binds would make a great movie. It would. I cry every time I read it. Same with Giants in the Earth.
6. The smell of dirt. This is not something I experience in January but in May...it's heaven to get your hands right in there and scoop it up and breathe deeply. Tiny little bugs and spores and bits of earth go right up your nose and become part of you and who knows where they started out...maybe Russia. It connects you to everything that ever was and is and ever will be.

And that's enough for tonight.

Wednesday night and things that irritate me

1. Going to Patrick's for dinner and sitting back by the tree. A teacher couple that I know brought their two kids along with them for dinner and allowed them to rampage around the table in the back by the windows. Rampage, I tell you. Loud stomping and crashing into each other. We tried moving to a different table in the lounge area but they still annoyed us so we had to move to the other room. Good grief.
2. Regis eating these monster sourdough pretzels that sound like he's eating gravel with metal teeth. It can't be good for his enamel and it certainly isn't good for my nerve endings.
3. People at workshops who talk in loud voices while the speaker is talking. These people should get forty years of detention in hell.
4. People who are not dumb genetically but are dumb after being educated. There is no excuse.
5. Waking up in the middle of the night with that guy inside who drives the tricycle in tight circles on the threadbare green carpet. The closet of anxieties. Things that are not a big deal in the daylight loom large in the night.
6. Bad food like frozen pretend meatballs, Doritoes, bag cookies (except for Pepperidge Farms Milanos). I'm talking about fake Valentine cookies from WalMart and that meat that comes in bags that isn't really meat but meat product.
7. B.S. I just don't know how people can dish this out all day or sit and listen to it being dished out and keep a straight face without rolling their eyes. Maybe if they pay you a lot of money in the beginning and you think it won't be so bad if you do it for a little while but pretty soon it's years you've been dishing it out and you start to think it's true and real.

That's enough for today.

Insomnia: Awake at 1 a.m.

Insomnia
by Billy Collins

Even though the house is deeply silent

and the room, with no moon,

is perfectly dark,

even though the body is a sack of exhaustion

inert on the bed,

someone inside me will not

get off his tricycle,

will not stop tracing the same tight circle

on the same green threadbare carpet.

It makes no difference whether I lie

staring at the ceiling

or pace the living room floor,

he keeps on making his furious rounds,

little pedaler in his frenzy,

my own worst enemy, my oldest friend.

What is there to do but close my eyes

and watch him circling the night,

schoolboy in an ill-fitting jacket,

leaning forward, his cap on backwards,

wringing the handlebars,

maintaining a certain speed?

Does anything exist at this hour

in this nest of dark rooms

but the spectacle of him

and the hope that before dawn

I can lift out some curious detail

that will carry me off to sleep-

the watch that encircles his pale wrist,

the expandable band,

the tiny hands that keep pointing this way and that.

More on the pants

So Regis got a response from the green pants guy. He said he has a box of 96 Crayola crayons and when he wants to describe the color of something, he picks the color that's closest and that's the word he uses. And that's the color of Regis' pants right there in the second row. That must be green.

He paid fifteen dollars for them and is inclined to send them back but I think they will make great gag pants. Imagine stepping in the door at Reggie's apartment Saturday for the family birthday dinner in those green pants. Priceless. Or standing in front of Patrick's as the parade goes by on St. Patty's Day. Those are some great green pants.

My work day was frustrating and discouraging and made me wish they would strike oil in Stanley and I would become an oil baroness. Most of the time work is a drag and I only go there for the social interaction and the coffee. Well, that last part is a lie because the coffee is pretty bad. When we talk at work about becoming instantly rich, some people say they would continue to work. I would for about five minutes or just long enough to call the emergency telephone tree to gloat. This right here could be my oil well and my ticket to a life of leisure.

Leprechaun pants

Regis buys most of his wardrobe on eBay. They sell new clothes, too, so he doesn't buy used underwear. Today he got a nice pair of Orvis pants that had been 72 dollars. A very nice fabric, nice cut, and only fifteen dollars...but they are leprechaun green. I hooted and said he could wear them to the St. Patrick's Day parade or when he wanted to be camouflaged while mowing the grass. He sent the guy an email: Hey, dude. What's your return policy? I need sunglasses to look at these pants.

I walked out of South Elementary this morning, right after a little bit of rainy weather passed through. The sidewalk was icy so I was taking it easy but I did a slooooowwwww motion swan dive to my left knee. Kind of like they do in the Tour of Figure Skating Champions as they wrap up the free-style. One leg behind, one knee, arms raised. I'm sure it was lovely. If there were judges I would have scored a 10.

My reward

From www.etsy.com and here's the description:
I was thinking of St. Patrick’s Day when I put these vintage and new components together to make this theatrically evocative charm bracelet: old mother of pearl, glass, bone and metal buttons, a green enamel heart (once a post earring), ornamented with rhinestones, stunning green vintage glass sew-on jewels, green glass shamrock beads, an assortment of Czech glass beads and a great stylized Victorian novelty button. The charms are crammed onto two rows of sturdy brass chain; the hardware is a mix of black-toned, copper, old brass and new gold finishes and the bracelet closes with a lobster clasp. Please note that some of the items are vintage and are re-purposed from their original existences; they show a little wear but you’d have to look hard to see it.
Looks like a great place to shop!

Taking a break

I'm taking a short break from my manic workaholism (don't worry...it's short-lived) to read some blogs. Man, some of you people need to get back to the keyboard. I moved a few of you to the end of the blog list, right below the blog called Buster and Pinky: Superdogs of the Internet. That's Pinky, a French bulldog, to the left.

I also read This Goat's Life regularly. In fact, the other night I scanned through a slideshow and I knew the name of almost every goat pictured. (That blog is updated frequently and it keeps my interest hint hint.) Of course, the '08 kids will start showing up soon so the farmer won't have time to write. The farmer is a good writer and tells some great stories about the goats' adventures. I've learned a lot about goat farming, too, which you never know may come in handy one day.

I also like the blog called The Lope. It's named after an antelope figure that appears in a lot of the pictures. The person who writes it has a penchant for antique decorations and neon so it's fun to look at the pictures. They've been all over taking pictures of Christmas displays and some of them are pretty funky. It's worth a look.

This one is called Roadside Architecture. I don't know if the author works, but in any case she spends a lot of time on the road taking pictures of interesting architecture and neon signs. It's like traveling without leaving home. Kind of like when Regis had that dream that we would dress up in the costumes of different countries and then visit their websites. Lederhosen and www.germany.com. Ha!

Cure for the blues

Larry suggested that I streak around the block in the nude today, soaking up the rays, if I continued to struggle with the malaise. Thank God the sun isn't shining so I don't have to try. Ed Lee covers athletic events for the Herald, but this would not be one. I'm not even sure streak would be the correct verb.

I got up early and commenced cleaning and organizing. I did a load of dishes, Regis started the laundry (it helps my mood to see him busy), and finished the Christmas de-construction. I do feel better.

Now I'm going to tackle the paper mess. It's amazing how fast that stuff piles up.

The general malaise

I woke up at 4 this morning, made some coffee and sat in a chair in the living room until 8. That's a lot of time to squander. We went to Mankato for a while, I took a nap, but haven't done one constructive thing all day. Does this sound like a replay of my Christmas vacation? Right now, we're waiting for a pizza to be delivered while we watch Simon and Garfunkel in Central Park. I've had that awful song Delta Dawn going through my head all day and had to do something to wipe the slate clean. Really, tomorrow I'll do something.

At seven o'clock this morning, it was still black as night outside. At five o'clock this afternoon, it was dark as night again. This is not good for a person's mood. You can fight it with candles and Christmas tree lights and wine, but these are long and cold winter nights. Tiffany is leaving for Minneapolis after work tonight and I'm going to miss her. This could account for some of my dark mood, too, I guess.

If we win the lottery tonight, or if I become an oil baroness with the mineral rights to the land in Stanley, I'm going to remodel our house. My idea is to tear out the wall between the kitchen and the living room. I think it's called a great room although that might be a pretentious name for something in an 800 square foot rambler. Regis just wants a fireplace; one of those Ben Franklin stoves.

The pizza is here.

Poet Laureate

I've been waiting for news of the Minnesota Poet Laureate since Mom and I nominated Bob Bengtson. When I did a search for news this morning, I found the original bill introduced in the legislature last January, written in poem form.

H.F. No. 224, as introduced - 85th Legislative Session (2007-2008) Posted on Jan 18, 2007

1.1 A bill for an act

1.2 relating to the state; appointing a poet laureate; appropriating gift or grant money
1.3received; proposing coding for new law in Minnesota Statutes, chapter 138.
1.4 BE IT ENACTED BY THE LEGISLATURE OF THE STATE OF MINNESOTA:

1.5 Section 1. [138.99] POET LAUREATE.
1.6 Subdivision 1. Appointment.

1.7	The Gov' shall appoint a state poet laureate,
1.8	Who shall serve for a four-year term.
1.9	Because this appointment will always be great,
1.10	There's no need for the Senate to confirm.
1.11	In appointing a poet for the public good,
1.12	And to ensure there's no unjust omission,
1.13	The governor shall consider, if he would
1.14	Thoughts of the Humanities Commission.

1.15 Subd. 2. Removal.

1.16	The poet will be free to write rhyming lines,
1.17	With removal only for cause,
1.18	But we trust that the bard will promptly resign,
1.19	If the verse reads as badly as laws.

1.20 Subd. 3. Compensation.

1.21	'Twould be fair to provide some just recompense
1.22	As reward for the poet's tribulations,
1.23	But because at this time we haven't the cents
1.24	We're afraid there is no compensation.
1.25	But we ask as the poet travels the state,
1.26	And the people their ears they lend,
2.1	That our learned Commission take the position
2.2	To provide the poor poet a stipend.

2.3 Subd. 4. Gifts and grants.

2.4	To provide the support that needs to come
2.5	To support our new laureate,
2.6	Gifts and grants received of a generous sum,
2.7	We hereby appropriate.

Ella's 2nd Birthday

We celebrated Ella's 2nd birthday with her on New Year's Day. She seemed to have a good grasp of what that meant...presents, candles, and the birthday song. She loved her doll stroller and had Baby Powder strapped in it right away so they could motor around the house. She calls everybody sweetie now. Thanks, Sweetie. Bye-bye, Sweetie.

I went back to work Wednesday which made for a short week. It wasn't traumatic, in fact, probably good to get some structure back in my life and I've gotten more done since I went back to work. I miss the naps, though.

One of Ella's presents was a book called The Napping House. The review says: The misty blue artwork that chronicles the "dreaming child," "snoring granny" and a number of additional snoozers seems to bleed off the pages, until that "wakeful flea" disrupts the sleepers and the sunny colors signal the end of naptime. A perfect book for Ella and Nana.

What I’m thankful for as 2008 rolls around

1. iTunes, Barnes and Noble online, and Netflix. I used to spend a lot of time looking for books, music and movies with no idea what I wanted. I made a lot of mistakes. Now with modern technology, my tastes can be compared to others and recommendations made for me based on our similarities. I may never have to watch a movie like Joe Versus the Volcano again, read a book like Echoes by Danielle Steele or buy a CD that ends up being a coaster. I’m not saying it’s never going to happen, just that the risk is minimized. And I won't have to wear that button that says DO NOT RENT VIDEOS TO THIS WOMAN to the video store again.
   
2. The realization that I’m not going to have a clean and organized house. It’s really taken a burden off to know this and to say it out loud. Kathy’s tried to help and we did make some progress but the stress is overwhelming. Regis and I are not good at getting all like things in one place. Say socks, for example. It’s really not a bad thing to be disorganized and I think we’ll live a rich and happy life in our slovenly ways.
3. The Minnesota Board of Teaching. I forget about my anger over the inequity of the secondary principal job market and stop ranting about it toward the end of every year, then I get the letter from the BOT reminding me that I haven’t paid the 75 dollar licensing fee (authorized by the MN legislature and in addition to the regular license fee) since I hold a principal’s license BUT NOT A JOB. I read the letter and it starts the fire all over again: 70% of high school teachers are women, more than 50% of students in ed leadership programs are women, and yet only 10% of secondary principals are women. Some dude at the school board association tells me that by law, school boards are required to hire the most qualified candidate and therefore it must be true. No need to say more.
4. Technology. I love podcasts, my blog, digital photos, Picassa, and the Google/Picassa website. Think of what the internet will do for human intelligence. Ten years ago, if you had an idea, you could tell a few friends or write an article for a newspaper but very few people had much of an audience. Now I can send pictures or rants clear across the country in a matter of seconds. Even goofballs can have a national audience.
5. Babies. Just when you think you’re too cynical to live, someone you know has a baby and adults who used to be reasonable sit around for hours and stare at it and think that everything it does is fascinating. We’re in the grandbaby age now and not only are these grandbabies, ours and those of our friends, the smartest and the cutest but we don’t have to be awake all night when they’re teething. All the joy and none of the responsibility.
6. Sleep. I listen to people who talk with a sense of shame about sleeping in until ten, or better yet noon. If I sleep until 5 o’clock, I’m grateful. Most nights I wake up at 3 and have trouble going back to sleep. I’ve always been a champion napper, but now I get my best sleep during the day. Not at work, of course.
7. Brain development. I read an article in Newsweek about how the human brain develops slower than what was previously assumed to be true. Right about that time, my son who had given me fits through his teen years, expressed a desire to go to school, moved in with his grandma, got a job where he is admired and respected, and became helpful and social. Yes! If that ain’t proof…

I might come back occasionally and add to my list but that’s enough for now. Of course, I’m also thankful for the usual things: my kids and grandbaby, my husband, friends, my dog, a warm place to live, enough to eat, enough to drink, and pants with elastic waists.

Danger! Danger!

We went to see Sweeney Todd this afternoon. I read a review in Rolling Stone that made it sound so good even though it's violent. I knew it had been a Broadway play so how bad could it be, right? Let me tell you how bad and violent it could be. I spent the last hour with my head completely under my coat and even at that, thought I would have to walk out. The reviews said the violence was "stylistic". My ass. It was graphic and gratuitous and way more than a person needs to see. There was not one redeeming thing about this movie....not Johnny Depp, not the music, not the sets, nothing. Call me unsophisticated but it was horrible.

She stumbles out the door

Today, the third day after Christmas, I finally pulled myself together and stumbled out the door. I had my little canvas bag of errands...grocery store for eggs and milk, hardware store for a power strip, post office to mail a pair of mittens back to L.L. Bean and a letter to Peter, city finance office for a rebate on Christmas tree lights, school for a basket of CDs, Bob and Emily's house to drop off the things they left here on Christmas Eve. I had to come home and take a nap after all of that. I tell you, the holidays are murder on a guy.

I have completed the journey from Mac to PC. All the files are transferred and the old computer has been scrubbed clean and registered to Lazlo Purdue. Tiffany might want it and if it gets ripped off in the big city, I don't want some ne'er-do-well getting my recipe for krumkakke. I threw away a few things that I wanted but that's life. I guess I'll learn to live without them.

We watched the movie Hairspray last night. At the end, Regis popped it back into its little envelope and said to mail it immediately in order to get it as far away from the house as possible. I don't think he's a fan. It was weird but I was too tired to have much of an opinion. There were a few funny parts, John Travolta was in drag, and I'll leave it at that.

Regis stopped to see Ella tonight. When he left, she blew him a kiss and said, "Bye bye, sweetie!"

The day after

I woke up at 3 to sit on the love seat and watch the snow. We had about five inches of fluffy snow that fell straight down so every branch and chair and bird feeder has a thick layer of snow icing.

Kramer kept an eye on me from the front window. He had an attack of pancreatitis during the night. Regis thinks he knows it's Christmas and that he wants to enjoy Chex Mix and cookies and ham like we do. He doesn't know and he doesn't care but he will eat it if you give it to him. Yesterday he barfed Chex Mix in the living room. It was a hint.


It looks like a Christmas card outside. There's a wind chime hanging to the left of the flag. Can you see the snow piles on each bell?


The view down 4th Street. There's light fluffy snow on everything. No wind even yet and still the snow is falling.


In the garden, every cone flower and milkweed has a snow hat. We rarely get this much snow without wind to whip it around.

This is Peter with my niece's daughter, Evynne. She took quite a shine to him and called him "the helper". He was very helpful when we were there, too...jumping up to grab dirty dishes and fill coffee cups.

I was a complete load yesterday. I walked past boxes of wrapping paper that should have gone to the trash, I walked past pop cans and gift bags and plates of cookies, and I took two naps. The only constructive thing I did all day was to fry a pan of krubs and ham. It was a very relaxing day but today I better get back to the land of the living.

Christmas Eve 2007

We had a good time and here are the pictures to prove it. Jill, the chairs might look familiar. After spending a few months on the porch, they came into the living room for Christmas Eve. Tiffany, it was nice to have you and Eric here with us. Peter, we missed you! Reggie says a new flashlight photo will be coming today as he added four new flashlights to his collection. My favorite is the red headlamp that actually looks like tail lights on a car. Amber suggested putting the clear ones on the front of his head and the red ones on the back. Ella and I passed out presents and that worked fine except that after you opened one, she might take it back and give it to someone else.

Click here to see the pictures in a larger size.

December 24th

Busy night. See you tomorrow!