tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14044564507058660802024-02-07T23:30:05.162-06:00From the Round Oak Table v2.0kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-11361040507842500912009-12-26T22:38:00.002-06:002009-12-26T22:52:47.323-06:00ContentI don't write here as often ss many others. Forgive me. So to do a really quick wrap up since my "Well Crap" post... Liz's cancer is under control, I think. She had a kidney removed in September. Follow up testing revealed concerns with liver, ovary, gall bladder and lung. Surgery to remove (remaining) ovary and gall bladder in outpatient surgery lead to a 3+ weel hospital stay starting Thanksgiving week and endng last week. Still watching the other spots for now, optimistically. Focus now is on Liz's recovery from the Nov 23 surgery and complications, but she's definitely on the upswing. <br /><br />Liz got "the Cancer" (I still whisper when I say that) in August, and sister Maggie also had the same kidney cancer in '02. I decided to get some testing done and am in the clear, as is my sister Mary Pat. I heard one unsubstantiated report that there is a high incidence of kidney cancer in people who grew up in Iowa. Maybe being around farm chemicals? Who knows? Maybe it's our family or maybe it's our specific town where we grew up (right by the grain elevator and pneumonia tanks?) or maybe it's nothing. Probably nothing.<br /><br />Thanksgiving was me in Iowa with Liz and Mom. DB and the kids here in CT making do. They did great, but I was determined to make up for it at Christmas. So we had a very lovely Christmas Eve (2 church services!) and Christmas Day. Food, love, celebrating the Christ Child, and being together. Today, the 26th, a little time at the mall, afternoon naps, dinner and watching college bowl games with a dear friend. All in all, a very happy time. <br /><br />I wish you and yours a wonderful holiday season!<br /><br />Peace, kkkikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-39711505415385958702009-08-16T20:10:00.002-05:002009-08-16T20:17:31.067-05:00Well crap.So my sister Liz has cancer. Crap. Liz is pretty much completely devoted to helping other people, serving other peoople, making other people happy. So this is really pretty freakin' stupid and unfair if you ask me. Ohhh I HATE this!!!!<br /><br />So when I asked how I could help, she said I'm her prayer-warrior and asked me to get busy. If there's anyone out there, will you pray too? I'll write about more specifics when I can, but for now, general prayers for Liz, Lauren and Maddy.<br /><br />Peace, <br />kkbkikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-64947937504940553782009-07-17T07:42:00.003-05:002009-07-17T08:03:11.606-05:00Wings of HopeMy friend Kate Ersevim is running her first marathon this fall - the Hartford Marathon on October 10, 2009. Kate is running in honor of her hero (and son!) Thomas Ersevim who is one of the coolest 4th graders I've ever met. Thomas spent all of third grade fighting cancer. He recently completed treatments and is currently cancer-free.<br /><br />I wrote several months ago about how a passing encounter with Kate and Thomas brought me to my knees and caused me to rethink some priorities. It was nothing either of them said or did, and frankly in the grand scheme of all the Ersevim family encountered last year, they're probably completely unaware of their impact on me. But their influence has caused me to be more patient, more forgiving, less aware of MYself and more able to see others' perspectives. More prayerful, too. So if you're reading, Michael, Kate, Christopher, Thomas, thank you.<br /><br />Kate's marathon effort is in honor of the <em>Great Mr. Thomas Ersevim</em>, and also as part of team Wings of Hope. Wings of Hope is a very special effort to run and raise funds for a new, state-of-the-art <strong>Clinical Care Center for Cancer and Other Blood Disorders at Connecticut Children’s Medical Center.</strong> If you are able, please join me in making a donation to Kate's fundraising goal. Here is a link to her webpage: <a>http://www.wingsofhope.kintera.org/kersevim</a><br /><br />Note the wonderful picture of Kate, Thomas and Christopher. Such a lovely photo of LIFE, LOVE and PEACE. Totally brought tears to my eyes this morning. Thanks for sharing it Kate!kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-3428571605673031142009-04-02T13:42:00.001-05:002009-04-02T13:44:17.618-05:00James P. KennedyI am struggling with a very solid case of “non-writing.” Lately, I’m only getting around to taking care of essential tasks, with very little energy or brain power left for much else. But today is a day that deserves some special attention. I just hung up the phone with sister #1 who said “today is a day for memories.” Oh how right she is. <br /><br />*****<br />A year ago, my dad, went to Heaven. I find comfort knowing that Dad is freed from the body he left on earth – a body that lost mobility and felt so much physical pain. Now, he’s standing on two legs and looking down on us from Heaven. I tried to talk to Dad today, maybe searching for a sign that he’s watching and I’m doing the right things, maybe just waiting to hear his voice? I don’t really know what I was looking for, but right when I was about to give up, I got this amazing image of Dad with Jesus! I was so excited, am still, to realize THAT’s where Dad is now… walking with Jesus! It’s exactly how things should be. Dad lived a Christ-like life, modeling his actions on the life Jesus led. Love. Forgiveness. Compassion. Peace. Faith. <br /><br />Please let me share some memories with you.<br /><br />*****<br />The first time I brought my Protestant, Republican, country club boyfriend (now my darling husband) home to meet the folks, I was anxious. We were raised devoutly Catholic, verrrry left-leaning Democrats, very involved in Democratic politics, by parents who regularly and willingly gave the shirts of their backs (and ours!) to help a stranger in need. Heck the one thing Mom and Dad always said of their four daughters’ futures: “We don’t care if she marries a black man, a Jew, a Mexican or a Baptist. Just don’t bring home a Republican!” Um, sorry about that Dad.<br /><br />Once Dad met DB, I think he got over the Republican thing – maybe secretly hoping he might be able to convert DB’s thinking someday. However, they had an interesting talk about being Catholic, or not. Dad shared with DB a basic tenet of his own beliefs, that DB still remembers to this day. Dad, walking in Jesus’ footsteps, believed this: Hate the sin, love the sinner. <br /><br />*****<br /><br />One summer, Dad and friends built a brick patio and rock wall around a large oak tree in the back yard. This was a major project and everyone got involved. I remember going on many brick-scavenger hunts with Mom to pick up “supplies.” Although I was too young to notice at the time, apparently there were (and still are!) a number of PBR pull tabs cemented into the rock wall. <br /><br />The patio was awesome, and unfortunately no sooner was it completed, than EVERY bird in our small corner of the world decided to take up residence in the oak tree. They were so dang loud, and quite oblivious to the placement of their, ahem, droppings, that that patio became quite unusable!<br /><br />After consulting with several experts, i.e., other PBR-drinking dads in the neighborhood, it was decided we must scare the birds away by shooting blanks into the tree. Problem was, Dad never owned a gun in his life, didn’t like them, didn’t believe in them, and I don’t think ever even pulled a trigger. <br /><br />So several nights in a row, Mom herded us into the house, away from windows, to cover our ears while Dad’s friend fired up into the tree. The plan eventually worked, and we were once again able to enjoy the fruits of Dad’s labor. Dad never fired the gun, we never “witnessed” the shooting, no birds were shot, and all was well in the land of Oz.<br /><br />Last year, I went back to the old house, now vacant, and stole a brick from the patio. Please don’t tell on me.<br /><br />*****<br /><br />Living in a house with four daughters and a wife, Dad adapted well. If he was a sports fan, I never knew it, except for the annual Iowa-Iowa State wrestling match he’d watch on Iowa Public TV. Dad loved to cook, and spent special time with each of us in the kitchen. He also had an amazing vegetable garden each year, and one year let me have my own little strawberry patch. I remember him coming home from work, and standing out over that garden with the hose, watering it faithfully each night. <br /><br />As much as Dad loved his girls, a highlight of each summer was when my cousins Hannibal and Aaron would come to stay with the grandparents. This was Dad’s chance to hang out with boys, do gross boy things, and make their annual trek to amusement park Adventureland. One of Dad’s favorite stories, one he was still telling last year, involves the boyish antics of cousin Aaron, now a grown man in his mid-30s.<br /><br />On a ride called the “Silly Silo” people stand up against the wall inside a large cylinder. The cylinder spins around faster and faster, and eventually the floor drops away. On a diet of funnel cakes, popcorn and saltwater taffy, you can just imagine the impact on a 8-year-old’s stomach.<br /><br />Exiting the ride, Dad asked the boys, “Well, how was it?’’<br /><br />Aaron enthusiastically replied, “It was great Uncle Jim! I puked and it stuck to the inside of the walls while we spun around!”<br /><br />Thanks Hannibal and Aaron for that little jolt of testosterone Dad so loved!<br /><br />*****<br /><br />In addition to his five girls at home, Dad had another very large flock of female admirers. The state women’s prison is in our hometown, and Dad became a driving force to bring Jesus’s message of love, forgiveness and compassion to the women there. He helped implement a retreat program called Residents Encounter Christ (REC) to the prison, and spent countless hours making sure the women knew that, in spite of what brought them there, they were loved and valued and children of God. Dad became friend, confidant, and father-figure to so many. One highlight of a REC weekend was the special Saturday night meal, prepared and served by Dad and a team of other volunteers. He made sure each of them felt cherished by this experience. Although stricter prison regulations now mean that special meal is a no-go, there is a whole generation of women, some lifers and many on the “outside” who were touched by Dad and remember his love as a highpoint during a dark time in their lives.<br /><br />*****<br /><br />After a long career as a small business owner, Dad had a late-in-life career working for the John Q. Hammonds company in their hotels. Late one night, a weary business travel checked into his room, ready for a soft pillow and a few hours of rest before an important presentation. Minutes later, the man frantically called the front desk, asking of there was an all-night Wal Mart or similar store where he could pick up some dress shoes… he’d forgotten to pack them, and sneakers with a business suit would not cut the mustard come morning. Dad, calm and reassuring, told the man he would get to work on finding a solution, and encouraged him to get some sleep. Dad got busy scouring the Yellow Pages for anything that might suffice, with no luck. As the sun started to peek on the horizon, still no shoes in sight, Dad rang the guest’s room, ready to admit defeat, when brilliance struck. When the guy anxiously answered, Dad asked what size he wore, and realizing a close-enough match, informed the guest that suitable shoes would be outside his hotel door in 30 minutes. <br /><br />Dad got busy with the shoe polish and a cloth, and placed the shoes outside the room at precisely 7am. Then, his overnight-shift having ended, and ready for his own soft pillow, Dad headed out to the parking lot. In his stocking feet. <br /><br />*****<br />Thanks for listening to my memories for a while. I find that once I started writing, I have about a million more stories to share, so hopefully this blog won’t be so silent anymore. <br /><br />But now, I have a to do list that contains a number of Very Important things. Call Mom. Call three sisters (one down, two to go). Things related to my job and career and clients I need to take care of. Get our 2008 tax info together. Return calls to two dear friends – one of whom invited me to a Broadway show on April 23! My list also contains this: “update iPod.” So please excuse me now while I attend to matters iPod-ish.<br /><br />*****<br />Things may come to those who wait, but only the things left by those who hustle. -- Abraham Lincoln<br /><br />*****<br />kkkikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-69090831183261706632009-02-11T13:21:00.003-06:002009-02-11T13:29:39.952-06:00<p class="MsoNormal">Vemont, a haiku</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Weather, company</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Food and drink, all without fault</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m a lucky girl</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwHtgcsyiH4cYAXwJkEU2FKBwhIlNK4zjPjAhKqJYDe7ulb-XdQLQLecUcPqjgBQFCKBsfGnsMU-T25xOvwTzO_GS721K9qXVrNw2IJMUMA7C_2K8eEil8UO6plJy6w7K78qlKN2yCaHg/s1600-h/Vermont+2009.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwHtgcsyiH4cYAXwJkEU2FKBwhIlNK4zjPjAhKqJYDe7ulb-XdQLQLecUcPqjgBQFCKBsfGnsMU-T25xOvwTzO_GS721K9qXVrNw2IJMUMA7C_2K8eEil8UO6plJy6w7K78qlKN2yCaHg/s320/Vermont+2009.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301623923361252130" /></a>kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-33991004753736008392009-02-03T13:41:00.003-06:002009-02-03T13:50:31.366-06:00Laughter Lives Tuesday!<a href="http://www.riggsfamilyblog.com/"><img src="http://www.brentriggs.com/blogpics/laughterlivesbadge.jpg" alt="Laughter Lives" width="150" height="150" border="0" align="right" longdesc="http://www.brentriggs.com" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This post is part of "Laughter Lives! Tuesday" on the </span></span><a href="http://www.riggsfamilyblog.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Riggs Family Blog</span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. Check our </span></span><a href="http://www.riggsfamilyblog.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">their blog</span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> to read everyone else's "Laughter Lives!" posts.<br /><br /><br />*****<br /><br />I was talking to a friend on Sunday, who reminded me that we should cherish every moment we have with our children. I had been complaining about what-feels-like-constant time behind the wheel carting kids to and fro, lamenting the more-stringent teen driving laws which went into effect last August. She told me that car time with her daughters – all off-to and out-of college now – is one of her most precious memories. With the kids in the car, a captive audience, you get all kinds of insight and information. No amount of monitoring of the Facebook, text messages or email can ever replace that valuable in person time with our kids. Thanks Mary, for the great reminder.<br /><br />*****<br /><br />Starting in January, we joined a new carpool for driving to the high school; every fourth morning it’s our turn. I find it a hilarious juxtaposition of female teens and male teens. While most of my daily interaction is with a male of the species (read: giant hulking food vacuum), it is delightful to spend a few minutes in the morning with these young ladies. They are talkative and forthcoming and love to share details. My boy, on the other hand, is silent, taciturn and wordless. We’ve recently been privy to news of a boy from another school showing interest in one of the girls (exciting!), and in-depth details regarding the Great Biology Test Scandal of 2009. These were events that I had a passing knowledge of based on bits and pieces from the boy, but once the girls jumped in the car, it was awesome to be able to fill in the blanks! One of the other dads who drives has welcomed my boy with open arms – the dad (of two girls) said he’s thrilled with the addition of a little testosterone to the daily commute.<br /><br />*****<br /><br />There are all kinds of stories on the internet and elsewhere that are daily reminders to parents to </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">love your children every day with all you’ve got</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. With one in high school and one in junior high, and our hectic sports and activities schedules, I sometimes pause to ponder the fact that my boy will be off to college within three years, and my daughter just a few years after that. Pause. Heart flutter. It’s the way things are supposed to be, I know that, but it makes me clutch, for all I’m worth, at every possible moment with them. Kids – let your parents hug you! We need it!<br /><br />*****<br /><br />All this reflecting and loving on my kids brings me to the point of this post… my friends Brent and Michelle over at the Riggs Family Blog host a weekly blog party called “Laughter Lives Tuesday.” A place for funny family stories and Brent has posted a few great ones. My story is dated a few years back, but pretty typical for the type of thing that would happen to our family when the kids were young.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Also, take a moment to learn a little more about the Riggs family. They are amazing loving people. Please please please pray for their little Abby, who can use lots of love right now.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />*****<br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Here's my "Laughter Lives Tuesday!" post:<br /><br />When our kids were 1 and 5, we moved to my husband’s hometown and joined the church he’d grown up in. Other members of the church were, for the most part, DB’s parents, their friends, and several other “pillars of the community.” Our attendance there was somewhat notable as the church focused on attracting young families, and the return of a member, with a family in tow, was proof that their efforts were working. So attending coffee hour after church was practically required for our little foursome. I’d stand all gussied up, perfect children in my arms, and get introduced to my father-in-law’s Rotary buddies, my mother-in-law’s Ladies Auxiliary ladies, and my husband’s potential business contacts. After a few months, I knew enough people to hold my own.<br /><br />One morning I found myself in conversation with the head of a large local charitable foundation, a Very Important Person in town. I had my toddler on one hip, and a cup of coffee in the other hand. I was wearing a sharp little top, that I was sure made me look quite mature and classy. It was red and white hound’s-tooth check, and zipped all the way up the front. Deep in conversation likely related to his foundation’s substantial support for a cause I was working on, my darling baby zipped my zipper DOWN, all the way, til my shirt was completely wide open and I had nary a hand available to cover up. I shoved the baby into his arms, dropped my hot coffee, and scampered away to collect myself. The poor man definitely got a show that day, and probably wasn’t sure if it was Sunday morning in church or Saturday night at the local strip joint!<br /><br />Shortly thereafter, we moved 1,200 miles away.<br /><br />*****<br /><br />“One thing they never tell you about child raising is that for the rest of your life, at the drop of a hat, you are expected to know your child's name and how old he or she is.” – Erma Bombeck<br /><br />*****<br /><br /></span></span><br /></div>kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-3109265098280953532008-12-22T12:22:00.003-06:002008-12-22T12:29:45.750-06:00Christmas 2008<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_5nm7_TMh0rZFhzaEQwIDaV03uN_-KeCJ4Ichx65gMv7aRrge2QBstfcxt0DPax1aUE9cwDjdhtn0s1MdqKurIckqEZdxN3LRz5-GyXG0395-ydJgQkmZj4svaHKcelooFyB7YQz6LJU/s1600-h/Christmas+2008.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_5nm7_TMh0rZFhzaEQwIDaV03uN_-KeCJ4Ichx65gMv7aRrge2QBstfcxt0DPax1aUE9cwDjdhtn0s1MdqKurIckqEZdxN3LRz5-GyXG0395-ydJgQkmZj4svaHKcelooFyB7YQz6LJU/s320/Christmas+2008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282683142564405506" /></a><p class="MsoNormal">Dear Friends,<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Merry Christmas everyone!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>2008 seems to have flown by.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>So much happened, and yet so many things remain the same. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">NKB and BKB are still very active in sports – basketball right now seems to be running our household.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Throughout the year, we also spend a lot of time on the soccer field (BKB), the football field (NKB), the golf course (everyone!), and running.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>In last year’s update, I mentioned that NKB was almost as tall as DB… fast forward 12 months and about 2 inches and meet our towering giant.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>DB still has the advantage in muscle and weight, but I don’t anticipate that will last either.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>NKB is 16, a sophomore, and will soon be driving.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Our sweet BKB, 12 and in 7th grade, is developing her musical talents in addition to sports.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She’s in a few different vocal and musical groups, and in March will participate in a youth musical.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">DB is still experiencing all the joy and merriment in the financial world with [a very large company], and I continue my work as a technology recruiter.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We had fun together this summer finishing off our basement.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And by “we” I mean DB+KKB+the nice men who came to our house and installed sheetrock.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>And by “fun” I mean at least we are still on speaking terms, DB and I (just joking!).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>In all seriousness, it was a great family project and the kids helped out too with a lot of the painting and other finish work. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In April, my dad went to Heaven, after several years of enduring the after-effects of a stroke.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>His lifetime of service and love, gentleness and joy are a lasting legacy. I was so touched to hear from so many different people, sharing stories of how Dad touched their lives.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He was a great mentor and friend, and a lot of folks strove to live by his example, embrace his strong faith, and receive his love.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The world is a better place because of Big Jim.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ll leave you with a call to action that our family shares together often.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I don’t know the author, but would give credit if I could.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Our Christmas wish for you is that you read these words, and hopefully they will touch your heart.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If they do, the world will be a better place:<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">"Let us now go forth into the world in peace; to be of good courage; to hold fast to that which is good; to render to no one evil for evil; to strengthen the fainthearted; to support the weak; to help the afflicted; to rejoice in the power of the Holy Spirit." <o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Peace, <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The family who sits Round the Oak Table<o:p></o:p></p><div><br /></div>kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-24339909363925452952008-11-26T11:08:00.002-06:002008-11-26T11:17:59.031-06:00<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Thanksgiving in our family means food, football and family.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Or if you ask Dougie, it’s football family, and food, in that order. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> We have celebrated some unconventional Thanksgivings.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One year our “turkey dinner” was in fact turkey hot dogs served at Texas Stadium while watching the Cowboys (see? football before food).</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Another year, actually a few years in a row, we attended the traditional </span></span><st1:placename st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Oklahoma</span></span></st1:placename><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><st1:placetype st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">University</span></span></st1:placetype><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> – </span></span><st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">University</span></span></st1:placetype><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> of </span></span><st1:placename st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Nebraska</span></span></st1:placename></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Friday-after-Thanksgiving game.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We had a good friend who played for </span></span><st1:state st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Nebraska</span></span></st1:state><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, and another dear friend who is a HUGE </span></span><st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Oklahoma</span></span></st1:place></st1:state><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> fan, so it was always good times.</span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Another year, we enjoyed Thanksgiving dinner while blissfully floating in the </span></span><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Caribbean</span></span></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, no snow, no football, no worries, mon.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A few years back, we had the very exciting opportunity to stay in </span></span><st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">New York City</span></span></st1:city></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> for Thanksgiving, and enjoyed the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in person, fulfilling a childhood dream of mine; in fact I still get choked up recalling those memories.</span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Of course we’ve also done the traditional meal, with aunts & uncles, cousins, in-laws and more.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One year, very early in our marriage, we went to my aunt’s house, and I believe there were easily 25 or more people there.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That’s the football-watching side of my family, so I knew Dougie would fit right in.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It also happens to be the side of the family with a couple of mildly developmentally disabled cousins, but they’re cool, they’re family, and the fact they’re a little different just </span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">is</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, ya know?</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">However, remember this was early in our marriage, and Dougie didn’t really know much of the family yet.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Doug’s pretty social, and I wasn’t at all worried about him finding a group of my cousins to bond with, so I just kind of turned him loose and gravitated myself to the kitchen.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It also did not occur to me to point out anyone who was special or different.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Again, they’re just regular folks to me.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A few hours later, I found Doug, who had found the TV, some football, and a group to bond with – Wayne and Larry.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He was on the couch smack dab between the two, neither of whom shower regularly, and both of whom were </span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">so excited</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> to be the first cousins to really get to know Doug well.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I think the stack of Coors Light cans on the table in front of them helped the Cowboys/Packers/whatever win that day!</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was a very endearing scene, and the memory of it makes me love Dougie even more.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> ***</span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So for 2008, we are excited to be at home and sharing the day with some very dear friends, who are practically family to us.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Turkey</span></span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, gravy, green bean casserole, pumpkin pie, and a few others will grace our table. </span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Including pecan-gingersnap-caramel-pumpkin cheesecake that is in my fridge right now, just </span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">begging</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> me to have one. little. taste. Resistance is futile!</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> When I get up early Thursday morning, I will think of my dad, who always made a turkey to take to Grandma’s.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I remember coming downstairs, rubbing sleep from my eyes, and seeing Dad at the kitchen table reading the paper, keeping an eye on the Turkey.</span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> I also remember the first Thanksgiving I ever hosted.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was my mom and dad, and Doug’s folks, at our house in </span></span><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Cedar Rapids</span></span></st1:place></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I was nervous at hell, but everything turned out and nobody got sick, so I guess it was fine.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After dinner, Dad and I went on a nice long walk in my neighborhood and he shared some great stories and told me he was very proud of me.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That was the last Thanksgiving before Dad’s stroke, and a memory I cherish.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> ***</span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In football news, our household was honored to host the Varsity team last night for a pasta party.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Their final game of the season is tonight.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I lost count around 28 young men, but I think almost the entire time attended.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And man can those boys eat!</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">They were incredibly polite, cleaned up after themselves, and were in and out of the house by 6:30 pm.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Wait a sec, so some nights I can’t get dinner on the table for my own family before 8 o’clock, but I can feed ~30 hearty eaters as early as 5:30?</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Whatever, I have issues ok?</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> I am so proud of NKB for his football accomplishments this year.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Doesn’t he look great (#21)?</span></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj35nqw8Rjm8hp8TTJrk92btQ-kJGlz-Xlh-TIUCn6VuqnK85v-VZs9ZoJKbl3rMa4QsMs7uO4tZzN_OOk_fnJXY0oRIKg-ARiSQBqvE1_24EKvWujMUGARBgfW0pzW37dfu9GJz9__yxw/s1600-h/IMG_5704.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj35nqw8Rjm8hp8TTJrk92btQ-kJGlz-Xlh-TIUCn6VuqnK85v-VZs9ZoJKbl3rMa4QsMs7uO4tZzN_OOk_fnJXY0oRIKg-ARiSQBqvE1_24EKvWujMUGARBgfW0pzW37dfu9GJz9__yxw/s320/IMG_5704.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273016384269778466" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> ***</span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Thanksgiving dinners take eighteen hours to prepare. They are consumed in twelve minutes. Half-times take twelve minutes. This is not coincidence.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">– Erma Bombeck</span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> ***</span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Happy Thanksgiving friends, kk</span></span></p>kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-17738402595022483262008-11-21T10:22:00.001-06:002008-11-21T10:24:24.741-06:00<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">The very first “From the Round Oak Table” ever:</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="Times New Roman""><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">November 21, 1974</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">I have a new appreciation for anyone who has ever built a new house and must make all the endless decisions about all the paraphanelia [sic] that goes into a project of this magnitude. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">We are redecorating one room – the kitchen.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">Just about the time I think I’ve said all that there is to be said on the subject and made all the decisions necessary, the contractor brings up just one more point.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">In the past few weeks, I’ve seen the insides of more wholesale and retail establishments then I ever dreamed existed.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">And I’m not done yet.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">I still have to find the right hinges and knobs to go on the cupboards.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">This experience renews my resolution that my next home is going to be a Quonset hut, partitioned by curtains, that I can hose down each week to get rid of the grime and junk.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">***</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">Took three of my kids to see "Benji" this week.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">It is a good show… very definitely one of the flicks that all the "anti-porno" advocates are asking for. As I sat enjoying this touching story of a dog's love, I wondered why the theatre built for so many was only one-fifth filled. Why don't the people who yell about an X-rated film, yell louder about a movie like “Benji” so the theatre will really be filled.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">Only when movies of this type are supported, will they be produced on a regular basis.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">***</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">A friend of mine helped take a census of </span></span><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">Altoona</span></span></st1:place></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">. Being the loving person she is, she not only took the census, but took the time to spend a few extra minutes visiting with people who seemed to need her presence. Result: She told the two gals she prays with each week about some of these people and they are now planning to visit some of the elderly in </span></span><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">Altoona</span></span></st1:place></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> and Mitchellville on a regular basis.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">Do you know someone in your neighborhood or community that would appreciate a visit from you?</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">***</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">Before we buy another car in this household, we will talk to the mechanic who maintains the car.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">More and more I am finding out that the salesman is only told the good features of a car… never the bad; therefore he cannot be objective.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">The manufacturer of the car I drive is no longer making it in ’75 because of the bugs it has and their inability to get rid of them.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">Ugh!!!!! In ’72 when we bought it, the sales man was enthusiastic, but the mechanic hesitant.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">***</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">Several people in </span></span><st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">Beaver</span></span></st1:placename><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span><st1:placetype st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">Township</span></span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> were unable to vote in the November 5 election because of a rigid enforcement of a portion of the voter registration law.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">It is sad that the instruction to the judges and clerks allowed no leeway.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">Many people who had lived in Mitchellville all their lives were denied the right to vote by the election board because they had moved in the precinct since the last election.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">The purpose of the portion of the law requiring voters to report changes of address is to prevent fraud… not deny a citizen his vote.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">***</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">Reminisced this week with Mrs. Hibbs of the YWCA (on of Dog Ragan’s daughters) about many of you.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">She is a lovely lady.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">She still gets the local paper and so keeps up on many of the local doings.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">She told me about the first winter they lived in Mitchellville.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">Said her dad was going to school and her mom was busy nursing the three kids who had whooping cough.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">She remembers really being sick. Isn’t it great to know that in this day and age we can inoculate [sic] our children against whooping cough?</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">***</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">We had our first snowfall of significance.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">It looks so beautiful in the early morning or late at night.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">But I always remember the year we were carrying papers and then it didn’t look good at any hour.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">And I think of the school bus drivers who must have those yellow monsters on the road in the nastiest of weather conditions. And I think of the service station operators who get calls to start cards or pull them out of ditches. As the really bad time of year approaches, weather-wise, use caution and sense as you are on the road. And if you are lucky enough to be at home, say an extra prayer for all those who have to be out… especially those serving you.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">***</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">A sympathy award goes to Dr. Ellen of our community who broke her leg recently. She is doing just great and has her own cast now, after spending three days on her living room sofa waiting for the swelling to go down with her daughter’s used cast and an elastic bandage wrapped around her leg.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">***</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">The RAMPAGE from SEP that appears in our paper is quite well done.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">Worthy of being read, with Chuck Platter of our community doing some good articles. Also notice that he is not afraid of getting into hot water.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">***</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">If you’ve ever been involved in a heated argument, you will appreciate this joke:</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">A motorist and his wife had gotten into a violent argument and neither would change his or her side.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">They had not spoken for miles when the husband pointed to a mule in a pasture and asked, “Relative of yours?”</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">“Yes,” she replied, “by marriage.”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">***</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right:-27.0pt;text-align:justify;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Times New Roman""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">Keep </span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';">America</span></span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"> beautiful… Smile.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p>kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-22461058261086971062008-11-18T10:35:00.002-06:002008-11-18T15:23:49.280-06:00From the archives, Round Oak Table November 19, 1981Faithful followers, you all know that this site exists because my mom was the ORIGINAL BLOGGER, back before it was even called Blogging. Back before Al Gore invented the internet. Heck, back before e-mail, eBay and YouTube (gasp!). Mom’s weekly column, “From the Round Oak Table” was a lovely little snapshot into our daily lives, and into Mom’s perspective on life. Many, many columns are devoted to political events, encouraging folks toward activism, and even an occasional rant (as we call them today) on people/the government/JPK (Dad)/her lovely children (not me of course) doing one stupid thing or another.<br /><br />So on Friday, 11/21/08, I will have a very special post for you. I found Mom’s first column ever, and I’ll be posting it Friday… which happens to be the 34th anniversary of the date that first column was published, November 21, 1974. It’s delightful! It’s delicious! It’s de-lovely! Ooo, I digress, sorry. Check back in on Friday for this piece of ROT history.<br /><br />In the meantime, here’s a quintessential MMK column, from November 19, 1981. Mom talks about her favorite subject, me (just kidding sisters… I know Mom loves you too!), praises our local post office, the recession (THAT one, not THIS one), and offers some great advice on how to dress stylishly without breaking the bank… although the folks at LaCoste might not appreciate it.<br /><br />As a side note, Mom’s columns often give me insight into things I never knew about her and Dad. There is also a bit in this column about the prison coming to our town. The facility had previously been a juvenile facility for girls, and was later converted into an adult prison. Now in my memory, the prison was not a bad thing, and in fact Dad and Mom volunteered many hours of ministry to the residents there. However, I never knew until exactly today that Mom actually opposed it, initially. I would like to point out that she did not oppose the prison on “not-in-my-backyard” grounds, but rather took the position that more services should be available for youth, to prevent the need for more adult facilities. Good position Mom, I’m proud of you for that one!<br /><br />******<br /><br />Without further ado, ROT Nov 19, 1981:<br /><br />From the Round Oak Table<br />November 19, 1981<br /><br />In an effort to understand<br />big numbers, the sixth grade<br />math class taught by Mrs.<br />Ruth Kerby, Mitchellville Elementary,<br />is collecting pop<br />bottle caps. Earlier in the year<br />the goal was 1,000,000 caps.<br />That has been shaved to<br />10,000 which is still quite a<br />lofty number. At this time<br />they have approximately 2,000<br />caps. It was Katie's turn to<br />count bottle caps the other<br />night and she involved the<br />whole family. Two thousand<br />caps weigh about 12 pounds<br />and fill a large grocery bag<br />about three-quarters full. Anyone<br />interested in contributing<br />to this math project should<br />contact a student in Mrs.<br />Kerby's class.<br />******<br />If you want overnight service<br />on first class mail, bring it<br />to Mitchellville. I recently<br />mailed a letter to Norwalk at<br />4:45 p.m. one day and it had<br />arrived at that destination by<br />10:00 a.m. the next day. In<br />contrast my folks, who live on<br />the west side of Des Moines,<br />were still waiting on Saturday<br />for a letter that had been<br />mailed Wednesday from a<br />friend on the east side of Des<br />Moines. Perhaps the river was<br />too high and couldn't be<br />forded last week . . . I don't<br />know. Anyhoo, our local P.O.<br />personnel deserve thanks for<br />efficient service.<br />******<br />Why a little alligator emblem<br />sewn on a shirt is so<br />"necessary" is beyond most<br />of us, since the cost of these<br />shirts is so prohibitive to the<br />ordinary family's budget. But<br />a group of enterprising young<br />people have found a way to<br />beat the cost. They discovered<br />that a pair of Izod socks is only<br />$3.00 and each pair sports one<br />alligator. By carefully removing<br />that alligator it can be<br />sewn on a discount store shirt<br />and thus one has a "preppie,"<br />"in" shirt at half the cost.<br />Now who said teens aren't<br />enterprising and imaginative?<br />******<br />It's hard to believe that this<br />country is in a recession and<br />times are hard when a major<br />department store advertises<br />women's blouses at $100 and<br />up. That is scandalous, hard<br />times or not. In the good old<br />days, J. C. Penney's in<br />downtown Des Moines was<br />the best place to buy blouses.<br />For $3.00 apiece we could<br />have an oxford cloth shirt for<br />every day in the week and if<br />we really wanted something<br />special, then $5.00 was the<br />going rate. By the way, this is<br />an excellent time to clothes<br />shop — some stores are<br />practically giving things away.<br />But as Katie said on a recent<br />mall trip as we scoured<br />through clearance racks<br />“I can see why these things are<br />on clearance and I hope<br />somebody named Clarence<br />comes along and buys them —<br />I wouldn't."<br />******<br />Governor Ray gave the best<br />argument in the world for<br />maintaining Mitchellville<br />Training School as a juvenile<br />facility. In a speech at a crime<br />conference he cited statistics<br />showing juveniles were involved<br />in a large amount of the<br />crimes committed in this<br />state. He didn't go far enough<br />and suggest ways to prevent<br />these juveniles, from becoming<br />adult offenders. Certainly closing<br />Mitchellville and turning it<br />into an adult facility doesn't<br />make a lot of sense to some of<br />us. Why not expand efforts for<br />kids instead of cutting? It was<br />nice of the Legislature to set<br />up a Commission to study the<br />best use of our facility; it was<br />nice of the Commission to<br />study the problem and listen<br />to citizens, but many of us feel<br />the futility of the whole effort.<br />We know that individual legislators<br />will still coerce and<br />bargain to protect their own<br />turf, disregarding what might<br />be best for the state as a<br />whole. It will take legislators<br />with vision to see things<br />long-range and do something<br />positive about juvenile criminals<br />becoming adult criminals/<br />Did you ever feel that<br />Iowa's criminal justice system<br />is similar to the dog that<br />chased its tail around in a<br />circle?<br />******<br />The big trouble with people<br />who believe only half they<br />hear — is that they usually<br />believe the wrong half.<br />MMKkikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-15368508770903877012008-11-14T11:05:00.001-06:002008-11-14T11:07:57.705-06:00A lesson from Thomas<p class="MsoNormal">I had a humbling moment this week, involving a special person I barely know, and it’s weighing heavily on my mind.<span style=""> </span>I think this is God talking to me, trying to teach me a lesson, and I’m working hard to understand it. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Several weeks ago, on a Sunday, I learned that the 8 year old son of an acquaintance had been diagnosed with kidney cancer.<span style=""> </span>On Saturday, the day before.<span style=""> </span>This seemed so sudden and strange and wrong.<span style=""> </span>The kid woke up with a bad tummy ache Saturday morning, they took him to the walk-in clinic, and BOOM cancer.<span style=""> </span>Wait, is this how it goes?<span style=""> </span>One day your life is perfect, your kids are perfect, you’re worried about the economy and the election and mowing the lawn before rain, and then BOOM life is suddenly altered.<span style=""> </span>Candidates, carpools, the weather forecast, your checkbook balance – who gives a crap??<span style=""> </span>Your baby <u>your</u> <u>BABY</u> is hurting and suddenly nothing else matters.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In August, I did a two week gig as Sunday school teacher, and sweet Thomas and his older brother were in my class.<span style=""> </span>I was instantly captivated by Thomas’s blond curls and easy laughter.<span style=""> </span>Our lesson involved drawing a picture of what makes each of us special.<span style=""> </span>Thomas drew a very excellent ping pong table, and in describing it to the rest of the class he had just a hint of sarcasm to his humor that I loved!<span style=""> </span>Once I put two and two together and realized I knew his mom and dad from the choir, I picked him as my guy to razz a bit – having him demonstrate the “dance” we were doing for the rest of the class, and making him my line leader.<span style=""> </span>Nothing major, but just something a little special. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Just two weeks after that, we learned of his diagnosis, and each Sunday since have continued to pray for Thomas and his entire family.<span style=""> </span>But for me, it’s not just on Sundays, I can’t stop thinking about him.<span style=""> </span>At the grocery store, I wonder if I can pick up his favorite candy bar?<span style=""> </span>In the car on the way to soccer, I think “is he well enough to play outside?”<span style=""> </span>Helping with homework, signing a note to ride the bus home with a friend, sending in treats for a class party, I pause each time to think about Thomas’s life now. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Earlier this week, I had an eye problem that caused severe stay-awake-all-night-in-pain pain for a few nights, and my thoughts again turned to Thomas, at times praying for rest from my own ache and other times offering up my suffering in exchange for Thomas’s.<span style=""> </span>But most of the time reminding myself that what I was going through was nothing compared to what Thomas is dealing with. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I went through the drive-up lane at CVS yesterday to drop off a prescription.<span style=""> </span>I got in the lane, second car back at 5:07.<span style=""> </span>After several minutes, I remarked to BB that those folks in front of us should have gone inside, since they were tying up the drive thru for so long.<span style=""> </span>Several more minutes later, at 5:18 (11 minutes, sheesh!!!), I expressed my impatience by inching up just a bit, and my daughter and I were mutually complaining to each other about the long wait.<span style=""> </span>I’m sure that other driver knew I was back there, and was probably feeling just the right amount of guilt for making me (ME!) wait.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Just one minute later, the CVS clerk handed out a very large shopping bag to the driver of the car in front of me.<span style=""> </span>As she reached forward, I saw her face reflected in the mirror, and realized it was Kate, Thomas’s mother.<span style=""> </span>I could see his tow head in the back seat.<span style=""> </span>I was instantly humbled.<span style=""> </span>MY troubles, MY eleven minutes… they’re nothing in contrast.<span style=""> </span>I am an ass, and God showed me first hand yesterday.<span style=""> </span>I think that’s what He was trying to tell me. <span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Still searching for answers.<span style=""> </span>Still yearning for guidance.<span style=""> </span>Still praying for Thomas.<span style=""> </span>Won’t you join me?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">*****</p> <p class="MsoNormal">kk</p>kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-34370958457008847622008-11-13T11:32:00.001-06:002008-11-13T11:32:52.710-06:00<p class="MsoNormal">Daughter BB recently launched a discussion of the word “Antidisestablishmentarianism.”<span style=""> </span>It’s now a staple in her vocabulary repertoire and she’s using it regularly in her school work and social interactions.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ok, not really.<span style=""> </span>We <i style="">did</i> discuss the word in the context of taking a really hard vocabulary word and breaking it down to the root word.<span style=""> </span>Anti – dis – establish – ment – arian – ism<span style=""> </span>(English majors out there – I’m quite aware that this probably isn’t properly decoded, thank you very much.<span style=""> </span>Works for me.)<span style=""> </span>This lead to a very interesting discussion of “the establishment.”<span style=""> </span>And boy-howdy are her ears ever alert these days for any references to “they,” as in “the powers that be.”<span style=""> </span>As in “they are tearing up <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Buckingham</st1:PlaceName> <st1:placetype st="on">Park</st1:PlaceType></st1:place>” or “they rearranged the organic foods section at Stop-n-Shop” or “they added more songs to Rock Band 2.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So this discussion has caused us to pause and think about who “they” are – to challenge a speaker to define “they,” to question the group-think effect of what “they” say, and to find new ways in our own language to avoid use of an omni-present, all-knowing, Big-Brotherish “they.”<span style=""> </span>For my part, it has caused me to be more thoughtful and precise with word selection.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">*****</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On the subject of choosing your words wisely... </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Many moons ago, when the world was still flat and DB and I were preparing for marriage, we had several lovely pre-marriage counseling sessions with a sweet little Italian woman who’d gone to high school with my mother.<span style=""> </span>Mrs. Cacciatore talked us through communication and commitment, Myers-Briggs personality testing, and shared some sage advice from both her professional training and from her many years of successful marriage and parenting.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A few things stick, even after all this time.<span style=""> </span>First, Dougie is outgoing and social and needs lots of human interaction.<span style=""> </span>I prefer great book or movie and a warm fire.<span style=""> </span>Dougie is energized being out and about with a crowd, while it drains me.<span style=""> </span>The exact opposite is also true – my batteries are recharged by a night in and DB needs an extra boost to make it through.<span style=""> </span>We also learned that the smell of bacon cooking does strange things to a pregnant woman.<span style=""> </span>Don’t ask.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Mrs. Cacciatore also taught us something very interesting about one particular word – YOU.<span style=""> </span>She issued a challenge.<span style=""> </span>Try to make it through an entire day without using the word YOU.<span style=""> </span>You’d be surprised at how hard it is (ha, caught me there, huh?).<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Nothing wrong with the word, but in the context of learning to communicate well with a soon-to-be spouse, sometimes it can come off as accusatory, preachy, divisive.<span style=""> </span>Especially as a couple is navigating through their early days.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Did you move my keys?<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Are you listening to me? </p> <p class="MsoNormal">You’re not listening to me!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Try </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I wonder where I put my keys?<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Am I speaking loud enough to be heard?<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m not sure I’m expressing how I really feel.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s a challenge, friends.<span style=""> </span>Try going for a day… an hour even, finding OTHER ways to express yourself (dang, did it again!). It might not lead to elimination of the word YOU, but it will help you to think carefully before you speak. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">By the way, thanks Mrs. Cacciatore!<span style=""> </span>Still going strong after 17 years!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">*****</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I don’t know who to thank, or all the mechanics of whether or not it’s a good thing for the <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">US</st1:place></st1:country-region> economy, but I’m sure happy to see gas prices that start with $2, rather than $3 or $4 or more…<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>I recently had to get a new vehicle, and the sales person said I should only go with the middle grade gasoline or higher, otherwise it degrades the performance of the engine.<span style=""> </span>Whatever.<span style=""> </span>I’ve only had to get gas once so far, and I did go with the middle button on the gas pump thing, but prices go up again and I’m right back to the low-end stuff. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">*****</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A huge thank you this week to Dr. P and the makers of Zymar, Vigamox, Polymyxin B-TMP, Cyclopentolate, and Diclofenac eye drops.<span style=""> </span>As a contact lens wearer for more than 20 years, I never had a problem until this week and then WHAM!!!<span style=""> </span>Corneal ulcer.<span style=""> </span>I slept in my contacts – BRIEFLY – on Sunday afternoon, and by Sunday night was in excruciating pain. <span style=""> </span>Under treatment now, but man alive was I ever uncomfortable Sunday through Tuesday.<span style=""> </span>My friend who had this same problem many years ago compared the pain to childbirth, and I totally agree… agonizing, toe-curling CONSTANT pain.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s going to take some effort to put contacts back into my eyes – I’ll need to psych myself up for it.<span style=""> </span>In the meantime, get ready for my new KK-does-Sarah-Palin look, friends!<span style=""> </span>I’ll try to avoid the FLDS upswept hair, however.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">*****</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Big Brother is watching… look busy</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">*****</p> <p class="MsoNormal">kk</p>kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-70466674856712466272008-08-29T13:08:00.005-05:002008-11-18T10:41:58.527-06:00Athletic Supporters!<p class="MsoNormal">Fall in our household means we turn into athletic supporters. <span style="font-size:+0;"></span>Oh get your minds out of the gutter people - <span style="font-size:+0;"></span>I’m talking about supporting our favorite athletes!<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Watching games, driving to practices, hosting pasta suppers, tailgating, washing sweaty uniforms and more!<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">There’s the high school football team (NKB), the travel soccer team (BB), our beloved Iowa Hawkeye football team (regardless of whether they make it to a bowl game or not), fall golf (my favorite), and attendance at or paying attention to a whole bunch of other teams with which we’re not actively involved, just interested.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Now this is quite a departure from my youth.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Growing up in a household with four daughters, one mom and one dad meant that there was only a tiny bit of testosterone in our home - and Dad was quite all right with that.<span style="font-size:+0;"> Once a year, </span>Dad watched the Iowa/Iowa State wrestling match on IPTV, but other than that, Sunday afternoons meant cooking “Sunday Dinner,” reading, napping, and decidedly NOT hearing the roar of the crowds blaring from the TV. About as close as we got to “sports” was going to Grandma and Grandpa’s for various holidays and the boy cousins would always have pro football on the little TV in the basement.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Those gross, icky teenage boys plus Uncle Godfrey’s stinky cigars really turned me against watching sports on TV.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">*****</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Upon meeting Dougie, my entire universe shifted with regard to sports.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>DB is completely and totally enthralled with sports of any sort.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>In our early dating years, I went to visit him at his college, and upon picking me up from the airport, we headed right to a sports bar.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>My trip was smack dab in the middle of “March Madness” and every game possible was blinking from the 27 TVs hanging from every corner of the place.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>It was completely bewildering to me.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>It’s not that I’d never seen a basketball game, I was after all in college and actively watching the Iowa Hawks’ basketball season.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>I’d just never seen that level of intensity, that fervor, that passion for <i>watching</i> the game.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Like any good sports fan, Dougie is a master of some pretty strange stats and details.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>You name just about any pro football player, and Doug can tell you not only where the guy went to college and the name of the head coach, but also the player’s high school and in most cases high school coach.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>He also remembers, in detail, the day we met – but only because it was the same weekend as the great <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /><st1:state st="on">Iowa</st1:state> / <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Ohio</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">State</st1:placetype></st1:place> match up in 1990.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Unlike most husbands, however, he’ll never forget my birthday, September 7, as it happens to coincide with the birthday of ESPN.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Sigh.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Lucky me!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">I learned quickly that each season just kind of melts into the next and it never really “ends.”<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>To maintain a little sanity for me, a loose rule in our home is that professional baseball and basketball are taboo.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>This means that one’s “need” to control the TV remote for an NBA game is never allowed to take priority over a Julia Roberts movie marathon.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>However, come College Football Game Day or Zach Johnson playing well in any PGA tourney, the power grid in our town dims just a bit due to all 27 TVs in <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">our</span> home on full blast!<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Dougie is aware that the sports thing, even after 18 years, can sometimes be a bit much, and is careful to balance things out and tone down when he knows I need it.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">*****</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">My favorite part of fall sports is watching my kids.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>NKB is now in his sixth year of football, second at the high school level.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Although the season not officially started yet, it appears he will be Safety on the JV team.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>He looks so dang BIG out on that field.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>I mean he is pretty tall to begin with, but once you add the shoulder pads, helmet and foam rubber pieces inside the girdle and pants, he’s just a giant!<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>However, stand him up next to some of the varsity guys and he’s a relative runt!<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>The height is there, but NOT the weight.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>The kid is 6’2.5” – 160 lbs. dripping wet, playing against guys 220 lbs. or more.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Yikes!<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Did you know it is not possible for a fully-equipped football player to get into a Volkswagen Passat?<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Trust me on this one folks.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">BB is out on the soccer field, and loving every minute.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>She’s a lefty and that powerful left foot has helped her around an unsuspecting opponent on more than one occasion.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Although we’ve swiftly transitioned from soccer to basketball then back to spring soccer each of the past five years with nary a conflict, we might be approaching time to make The Choice: soccer OR basketball?<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>This past spring she tacked on an additional basketball league, which was directly in conflict with soccer April-June.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>We have just been presented with another basketball opportunity which will conflict with soccer throughout the month of October, and are struggling to decide if she'll play or not.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>It just might be time to decide which sport she loves more, soccer or basketball?<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>I think I know the answer, but I want her to discover it on her own.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">*********</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Some people talk about the “over-programming” of kids today.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>I don’t know if mine are over-programmed or not – and thanks but no thanks, not looking for your opinions on this one. <span style="font-size:+0;"></span>What I do know is that our kids participate in as many activities as they are inclined to <i>and that we can realistically support</i>.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>We did try hockey, baseball, dancing and piano, and probably a few others over the years. As they get older, there are fewer activities, but perhaps a deeper commitment to each. It's a real joy to watch them develop as athletes. I can't help but get a little lump in my throat every once in a while, seeing them out there on the field. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p><br />*********</p><p class="MsoNormal">Birthday shout outs to Al and Mary Pat!<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Love you both!<br />*********</p><p class="MsoNormal">"The values learned on the playing field--how to set goals, endure, take criticism and risks, become team players, use our beliefs, stay healthy and deal with stress--prepare us for life."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">---Donna de Varona</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">*********</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">kk</p>kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-55326069610832315032008-08-22T08:31:00.003-05:002008-08-22T09:34:31.528-05:00Off to College with The Round Oak Table<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI6ofCqeM_FdL1-1qBLmVkikNTfCBtV7F33_ZccdBrvSVWLgokg-Z7s5BYraYKuWDqsjyjf864WFi4XNn7hz7NRYZUl6M6jRtlpyN8rxlX7WmETvQJJfu49btM-97sO9M3lV3PXMe8vHw/s1600-h/1980-08-17.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI6ofCqeM_FdL1-1qBLmVkikNTfCBtV7F33_ZccdBrvSVWLgokg-Z7s5BYraYKuWDqsjyjf864WFi4XNn7hz7NRYZUl6M6jRtlpyN8rxlX7WmETvQJJfu49btM-97sO9M3lV3PXMe8vHw/s320/1980-08-17.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237334532681117746" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Here's a pretty typical column (complete text below) from Mom, back in the day. This was originally published on August 21, 1980. She writes about what's going on in her life: her parents 45th wedding anniversary and my oldest sister going off to college. Woven in there, however, are Mom's opinions, personality and sense of humor, that made her so dear to her readers for over 25 years.<br /><br />Good luck dear friends who are delivering your babes to college this week. We're just a few years behind you.<br /><br />*****<br /><br />One thing that I really love about reading Mom's columns is that it's a total walk down memory lane for me. As much as I try to be "anonymous" in this blog, most of you reading it know me as Kati/Katie. In this column from 1980, Mom has an entire section on my antics. If I'd read this at 18, I probably would have been totally pissed (teenage angst and all). At 28, embarassed (exploring conservatism). And now, at 38, still experiencing angst and exploring conservatism, I love it. I see so much of my own daughter and son in how Mom wrote about me. I guess it's totally true that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.<br /><br />*****<br />This 1980 column is a great reminder of the fun we used to have on "road trips." The alphabet game Mom describes was a wonderful way to pass the time. My kids lately (and me too!) have been playing "Bingo." Whenever you see a yellow car, you say "Bingo" and get one point. If it's a yellow Mustang, you get 10 points! However, if you say Bingo and there is no yellow car, it's minus one for you. For example, two people see the same car and both yell "Bingo" but one's just a little before the other, the first person gets the point and the second person goes down one.<br /><br />If you are the mom and triumphantly yell "Bingo Mustang" and then gloat about the 10 points you just got, you better be real sure it's a Mustang and not, say, a Dodge Charger. Especially if BB is in the car, as she will make you turn around and check up close that it is in fact a Mustang, and then upon finding out it's, say, a Charger, will <span style="font-style: italic;">take away</span> your hard-won 10 points. For example, is all.<br />*****<br />Enjoy <span style="font-style: italic;">From the Round Oak Table</span>, August 21, 1980:<br /> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 143.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sunday, August 17, was quite a day for our household with two important events to celebrate. My parents, Tom and Madeline Bray of <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Des Moines</st1:City></st1:place>, marked their 45<sup>th</sup> anniversary as husband and wife, and Mary Pat, our eldest daughter, left for college. As a "mom," let me tell you that one of these occasions was easier to deal with than the other.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 143.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">******<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 143.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">I suppose the thoughts that must run through every parent's mind as their offspring leave home is, "Did I do a good enough job? Have I prepared them for the challenges they are going to face: etc., etc., etc?" You, who are old hands at having children leave the nest, can probably relate to this. One "old hand" gave me some good advice this week. He said, "Put it out of your mind—forget it. You've done what you can do. Now let her be."<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 143.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">******<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 143.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mary is attending the <st1:placetype st="on">College</st1:PlaceType> of <st1:placename st="on">St. Mary</st1:PlaceName> in <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Omaha</st1:City></st1:place>. It is a women's college located on a corner of a busy intersection. The buildings sit on a large, grassy campus adjoining the Aksarben raceway. The view from Mary's window is of the track. With a pair of binoculars she’ll have a box seat. One of her grandmothers has already asked if she provided the $2, would Mary Pat place a bet or two for her??? Really, Grandma!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 143.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">******<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 143.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">One advantage of a smaller college is the family atmosphere that prevails. The friendliness and helpfulness of the staff and students at CSM is overwhelming. There was a special crew of helpers who unloaded our car and carried all the paraphernalia to the right room. There was a dorm counselor "Johnny - on - the - spot" who let Mary Pat know who she was, where she was in the dorm and "let me know if you need anything." Before we left for die trek back to Mitchellville we gathered in the dining area with other students and their parents for a briefing and welcome by the officers of the college. The president of the college is a gentleman who probably has experience at launching offspring since he verbalized so well what many of us were feeling. His empathy and concern were reassuring to many nervous parents and students.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 143.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">******<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 143.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Before the day was half over we knew why we had taken Katie, aged 10, with us. In the words of JPK, "for comic relief’ and in the words of her mother, "to keep everyone on their toes." She immediately offered to help Mary Pat unpack and rearrange her room. Offer was not accepted. She got around to the other rooms in the dorm to find out who was who and report back to her big sister. She ignored our piercing stares at speech time as she tottered on two legs on a four-legged chair near a large plate glass window. She kept her dad awake on 1-80 playing the Alphabet Game. The object of this car game is to see who can find all the letters of the alphabet, first, using all the available signs along the roadway or license plates or insignia on trucks.<span style=""> </span>Both she and Jim agree that the rental company Jartan, has done players of the alphabet game a big favor. Usually the letter J (along with Q and Z) is difficult to find.<span style=""> </span>Jartan rents equipment similar to that of U-Haul.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 143.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 9.5pt;">******<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 143.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">We observed field erosion in western <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Iowa</st1:place></st1:State> along 1-80 that was so cavernous that the owner had filled it with three junk cars end-to-end and it looked like there was room for more. Hopefully, the farmer will succeed in stopping it as the crops in the rest of the field looked excellent.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 143.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">******<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 143.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Our lunch stop was at the Villager in Walnut, <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Iowa</st1:place></st1:State> where we picked up a copy of the weekly newspaper, <i>The Walnut Bureau. </i>It is always interesting to compare other weeklies with our own <i>Herald- Index </i>and pick up new ideas. The Villager is also the restaurant- motel complex where we were charged sales tax (last year) on candy bars we were taking with us. After I protested via a letter regarding this violation of the <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Iowa</st1:State></st1:place> sales tax law the owner sent me a check for $.03. He didn't realize he was in error and I shouldn't wonder since our tax laws are not just simple cut and dried things. There are always a million exceptions.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 143.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 9.5pt;">****** </span><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 143.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Remember the <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Iran</st1:place></st1:country-region> hostages in your prayers and thoughts this week.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 143.5pt;"><b><span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">MMK<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <br /><br /><br /><br />*****<br />"I believe that we parents must encourage our children to become educated, so that they can get into a good college that we cannot afford" - Dave Barry<br /><br />kkkikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-24515484105636745062008-08-03T20:25:00.004-05:002008-08-04T08:57:50.838-05:00AccomplishmentsThank you to my guest blogger, 12 year old BB, for an update on Saturday's race. Honestly folks, I was really ready to bag it, because c'mon, SIX miles? Who the heck needs to run six miles? Isn't that just crazy? But then my little cheerleader and running buddy was up at 7am on Saturday, ready to go to the race with me, and I just couldn't let her down. Ya know what? I'm really glad I did it, proud to say I signed up for three races and I completed them all. Wasn't sure I would be able to say that. Mission accomplished!<br /><br />*****<br />Speaking of accomplishing goals, our entire family worked together all day Saturday and Sunday on our basement finishing project. BB and NKB were quite the pair in convincing DAB and me to go with a much different paint hue than we'd originally planned on. We had been thinking of a nice plain off white, but the kids lobbied hard and won the battle for a warm rich taupe, Bonjour Beige. Good call kids. BB and NKB also worked very nicely together re-installing outlet covers and switchplates. We are now at a carpet-choosing point, and the possibilities seem endless! We've created a complex family voting system to help narrow it down, and hopefully will have the order placed within the next week, and carpet installed before Labor Day. Still lots to do with installing doors, baseboards and trim, but we very content with progress thus far. We've accomplished so much on this project, with very little discord, and in fact it's brought us all closer together.<br /><br />*****<br />Closer together, and ohhh sometimes farther apart. NKB is off at a basketball camp this week, and during the 45 minute drive to camp this afternoon, he and I talked about college choices. He's heading into sophomore year of high school, and so right on track to start thinking seriously about Next Steps. He commented today about a school in a land Far Far Away, and commented casually that he thinks he'd like to be about "five hours away... by plane." Suck breath in, hold for thirty seconds, exhale slowly. Ok, this is what it means to be a parent, I can handle this. I think. We're right on track for the sort of exploratory thoughts he's having about college choice, and it gives Mom and Dad some time to get our heads around our little boy making grown up man decisions. Suck breath in, hold for thirty seconds, exhale slowly. Ok, still breathing here, that's good. As we arrived at camp, he wanted to head off with the guys, but I wasn't ready to say goodbye, instead lingering over the bed-making and unpacking as long as possible. Eventually, with a brief hug and kiss, he left for the basketball courts, leaving me still mussing and fussing in his room. I smoothed the blankets, fluffed the pillow, tucked his duffel bags under the bed, and pictured his future college dorm room. Yes I can do this, suck breath in, hold for thirty seconds, exhale slowly.<br />You can be damn sure, however, that we will make the most of these next three years of high school, treasuring every moment - good and bad. Ann over at <a href="http://mudlane.blogspot.com/2008/07/pretty-many-people-have-appropriated.html">Life in the Mud Lane</a> has some good advice for parents, which I wholeheartedly second - parents, <span style="font-style: italic;">just show up!</span> Your kids will know if you're there, and although they may not even talk to you or acknowledge your presence, they need you. Just show up! Great great wisdom Ann.<br />*****<br />"You measure the size of the accomplishment by the obstacles you had to overcome to reach your goals." - Booker T. Washington<br />*****<br />kkkikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-24570149333230757172008-08-03T11:20:00.003-05:002008-08-04T08:57:26.606-05:00Race Report - by Guest Blogger BBHello this is KK's daughter...BB! How funny is that? Well it's great that my mom is getting out there and starting her day without a soccer or football game. She's gets to get up for her own sake! KK finished a 4.5 mile race last Saturday and today completed a 6 mile! I'm so proud of her. She completed the 4.5 in 57 minutes and 37 seconds. As for the 10k (6 miles) she completed the race in about 1 hour and 20 minutes. This blog isn't about me for sure, but I would have ran the 10k but I had found out that I had tendonitis in my knees. Stinks I know. I'm just glad that my mom was able to finish in the time she did.<br /><br />I did go to the race and cheer on my mom. I watched all the intense men and women come in and finish. The quickest time was 35 minutes. I had heard that there was a brutal hill towards the end and it was smokin' hot! I was wondering " Where is my mommy! I hope she is OK! Aw man. Is she still out there? Oh no this can't be good." And just as I was going out to look for her I saw a fast pink shorts lady sprinting to the finish line. Every one was cheering for her and excited to see her run through the finish line. When she finished, she gave me a big old hug and I was glad to see her so happy I almost cried.<br /><br />KK is doing very well and always up for the challenge. Thanks for reading my mom's blog. BBkikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-90394481162156936372008-08-01T10:46:00.003-05:002008-08-04T08:57:00.603-05:00Eating at the Round Oak Table<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1grYU_yGl5Bp_A4jeEw-VKRCcgGvMCl07ToXP1gqnq4_dRRTwsfSJ2CSYW9zLQq-TsC5Gf27Vna0Or6IL2coA8g3jFJcgF29_c_QPcUX8Ipo1anHhWV0Dd4JtZxqNHCjL6gwP08h4E10/s1600-h/IMG_1811.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1grYU_yGl5Bp_A4jeEw-VKRCcgGvMCl07ToXP1gqnq4_dRRTwsfSJ2CSYW9zLQq-TsC5Gf27Vna0Or6IL2coA8g3jFJcgF29_c_QPcUX8Ipo1anHhWV0Dd4JtZxqNHCjL6gwP08h4E10/s320/IMG_1811.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229576308598993106" border="0" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Previously unknown fact:<span style=""> </span>I love to cook.<span style=""> </span>Now, this site, homage to my mom, is supposed to loosely follow the same format as the original Round Oak Table column.<span style=""> </span>Mom wrote about her life, her kids, what was going on it the world and more.<span style=""> </span>I am generally following these same topical guidelines, but I have a problem.<span style=""> </span>My life involves cooking, eating (a lot of cooking and eating!) and shopping for food, checking out new restaurants, and trying obscure recipes.<span style=""> </span>Mom has never really enjoyed spending time in the kitchen and is not a big restaurant-goer.<span style=""> </span>As such, her column was rarely if ever about food.<span style=""> </span>Dad was the cook in our house – inventor of recipes, maker of daring meals, producer of Sunday dinner.<span style=""> </span>So, in the original ROT, you’re not gonna see a lot of food info, but here… well from time to time you’re going to have to oooh and aaahhh over something I’ve created, because I really dig the compliments!<span style=""> </span>I promise not to turn this into a food blog, and will try to give you a link or recipe if I can, but I just have to share some food news every once in a while!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">My friend Cathy over at <a href="http://www.noteatingoutinny.com/">Not Eating Out In NY dot com</a> posted this OUTSTANDING picture of a Savory Asparagus Pie that she created.<span style=""> </span>Despite of my self-imposed moratorium on turning on the oven in months that end in –uly or –ugust, I just had to try this one… plus it was still early –uly when I made it.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Here is a pretty picture: (well hell, I can't get the picture where I want it. See above.)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Cathy’s recipe, because she’s all about environmental and economic stewardship, calls for making a pie crust from scratch.<span style=""> </span>Because I am me, kind of a mix between a Cathy-wanna-be and that Semi-Homemade chick from the Food network, I bought the pie crust… but pressed it into my own Corelle pie plate!<span style=""> </span>Anyway, it was a HUGE hit, even with my “I don’t eat cheese” friend.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Oh, and even though Cathy’s version looks really long, it was <i style="">wicked </i>easy, that is soooo all about me!<span style=""> </span>I’m going to paraphrase her version here:<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">1 large bunch asparagus, ends trimmed; reserve 4 good-looking long stalks and chop the rest to 1/2″ bias-cut slices<br />1 medium onion, chopped<br />8 oz. crème fraîche<br />3.5 oz. chèvre goat cheese<br />1 egg<br />1 tablespoon chopped fresh chives<br />2 teaspoons lemon juice<br />3/4 teaspoon salt<br />1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper<br />1/8 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg<br />1 tablespoon butter</p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">1 pre-made pie crust, 2 crusts for 9” pie</p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Press one pie crust into greased 9” pie pan.<span style=""> </span>Roll second pie crust in one direction so you end up with an oval shape.<span style=""> </span>Slice it into 6-8 strips for the lattice crust (can be any width you desire!). Slice the reserved good-looking asparagus stalks carefully into halves, lengthwise.<span style=""> </span>Set aside, we’ll be back to this shortly.</p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Melt 1 tablespoon of butter on very low heat. Add the chopped onions, and let sweat for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally to make sure they don’t brown. Once onions are translucent and just slightly caramelized, remove from heat and let cool.<span style=""> </span>KK translation:<span style=""> </span>stick them in the freezer cuz I’m too impatient to “let cool.”</p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style=""> </span>In a large bowl, combine the creme fraiche and chevre. Mix with a spatula to combine. Add the egg, and whisk mixture until fully blended. Add salt, pepper, nutmeg and chives. KK note:<span style=""> </span>I was concerned that the mixture was too runny, so I added about a tablespoon of flour. Note sure it was necessary, but made me feel better about the batter!<span style=""> </span>Add the chopped asparagus slices and the cooled onions and mix with spatula.<span style=""> </span>Pour the asparagus filling into the pan with the bottom pie crust and smooth top with a spatula.<span style=""> </span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Keep reading and promise not to freak out:<span style=""> </span><i style="">“Place one asparagus stalk lengthwise down the center. Lay a pastry strip down the center perpendicular to the asparagus. Lay another two asparagus stalks (alternating between the blunt end and the flower tip side by side) to the right and left of the pastry strip. Lay two pastry strips to the top and bottom of the asparagus stalks, gently tucking the middle part of the strip underneath the middle asparagus stalk to create a basketweave. Continue weaving in this manner until you reach the ends of the pie. Arrange any leftover pastry along the top of the pie’s edge and distribute pieces until the pastry edge is fairly even in bulk all around and well-integrated. Crimp or pinch edges in whichever manner you prefer.”</i> <span style=""> </span>KK note:<span style=""> </span>This is exactly as Cathy has it on her website, and I just have to tell ya, it’s way more confusing to write (and read) how to do a lattice crust, than it is to actually just do it.<span style=""> </span>Just look at my picture or hers and you’ll be fine.</p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Brush top of pie with milk or egg wash (optional – oh but it looks so pretty!<span style=""> </span>Just do it!), and bake at 375 degrees for about 40-45 minutes, or until top is just lightly browned. Let cool at least 10 minutes before serving.</p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">*****</p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">In other food related matters, my attempt at gardening is a disappointment for the second year in a row.<span style=""> </span>I think I put it in too late – June 22 to be exact.<span style=""> </span>I thought it might be ok, but there must be some magic in that late May early June sunshine, cuz it just ain’t growin’.<span style=""> </span>I’ve been watering, weeding, keeping the bunnies and deer away, and, just… nothing.<span style=""> </span>Well I take that back, the basil looks pretty decent.<span style=""> </span>The tomatoes, peppers, cilantro, rosemary and chives are just givin’ me the big cold shoulder.<span style=""> </span>So even though the greenhouse still sells that stuff way into June, doesn’t mean a novice like me can have success with it.<span style=""> </span>I’ll stick with it – and probably next year too.<span style=""> </span>But for this year, grrrr. </p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">*****</p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">More on food, then I’ll leave you alone for a bit.<span style=""> </span>I’m gearing up for the back-to-school edition of “Kiki’s Kitchen.”<span style=""> </span>This is where I’ll have five friends come over for a four+ hour cooking session.<span style=""> </span>We’ll chop and slice and dice and whisk and sauté and at the end of it all, prepare six or more home cooked meals, that each person will stick in their freezer for later.<span style=""> </span>There seem to be little store fronts popping up all over the place offering this concept of “once a month cooking” or as I like to call it, OMAC (yes I know I transpose the “M” and the “A,” but it works for me!). <span style=""> </span>There’s Dream Dinners, Super Suppers, and many, many others.<span style=""> </span>Some are better than others, for sure, but having experienced one myself, I knew I could do better in my own kitchen.<span style=""> </span>Yes, you lose the convenience of having them do the shopping and chopping for you, but I’ll let you in on a little secret:<span style=""> </span>I actually <i style="">like</i> to go food shopping.<span style=""> </span>I like to pour over recipes, make grocery lists, read nutrition labels, and, a little old fashioned here, I like to call the meat market and place my order.<span style=""> </span>It makes me feel like <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Alice</st1:place></st1:city> from the Brady Bunch calling Sam the Butcher.<span style=""> </span>Except of course I’m not sweet on the butcher.<span style=""> </span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">*****</p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">“The one who eats the fastest gets the most” – MMK</p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">(Yes these words of wisdom are an actual quote from my childhood)</p>kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-47761785051658526692008-07-31T20:35:00.003-05:002008-07-31T20:51:59.670-05:00UpdatesOn running.<br />Last Saturday, I completed #2 of the three race series. A 4.5 miler. And let me just say that the .8 miles through a heavily wooded trail was just gratuitous. I would have been perfectly happy cutting the run a little short by going right through the middle school parking lot, but noooo, we had to head off into the woods and jaunt all the way to ENGLAND and back! Luckily they had a water stop right as we came out of the woods, so that helped. A little. This week is 6 miles, starting with a "screaming downhill," which unfortunately means we also end UPHILL. I'm a little nervous, and I've lost my running buddy as daughter BB is sidelined with "patellar tendonitis." More on that later, but let's just say that keeping an active 12 year old on "rest from all activities" in the middle of the summer is not fun.<br /><br />On Stuff Breaking Down.<br />I swear to you, when it rains it pours. No, I'm not talking about more water in the basement (thank goodness - there's drywall down there now!). I'm talking about the damn torsion spring in the garage door opener. Now don't get me wrong, I am very happy to have an automatic garage door opener, and happy that it has worked very peacefully for the last 8 years. I'm also happy that when the torsion spring <span style="font-style: italic;">under tremendous amounts of pressure and force</span> decided to break, it did not cause any bodily or person-ily injury. Apparently that can happen, and we were very lucky. But still! Waaaahhh! The car, MY CAR was INSIDE the garage when it happened, and there was no way that door was gonna open without professional help! All better now, but grrrr. Total time to recovery (TTTR): 4 days. Cost: $170 (why does everything cost $170 these days?!?)<br /><br />****<br /><br />Just a couple of brief updates for now. Working on a nice little post for Friday. Till then, let me leave you with these words of wisdom, compliments of BB (from memory -sent to her by a camp friend): don't walk behind me I might not lead, don't walk in front of me I might not follow. Walk beside me and be my friend.kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-37592312924059352402008-07-25T07:13:00.004-05:002008-07-25T07:43:40.317-05:00Jenny Hall, and a quiz!I received an email this morning from my old friend Jenny Hall. She's a grown up now (does that mean I am too?!?!), with a different name and a gaggle of kids. We've lost touch a bit, my fault not hers. It warms my heart, however, to know that she's added my email address to her list of "people to send cute stories to." Isn't interesting how we "categorize" our email contacts? Some people receive pictures of kids and family news, others get internet links to touching news stories and YouTube videos (Jenny sent me the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=adYbFQFXG0U">Christian the Lion</a> video - how sweet!). Still others in our address books get "the jokes." How did we ever communicate before email???<br /><br />Anyway, Jenny's on my mind, and I just knew I'd find something in Mom's archives involving Jenny. Here's a reprint of "From the Round Oak Table" on February 26, 1987. Please note, I first saw this and thought "oh, that's just like that quiz I got on email a few weeks ago." However, reading deeper, I realized that some of these "trick questions" posed a bit of a challenge, even for my clever-yet-worthless skill of usually not falling for crap like this.<br /><br />Read on friends... can you get 100%?<br /><br /><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">*******</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">From the Round Oak Table, February 26, 1987.</span><br /> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">One of the people we depend on to keep us on our toes and make life interesting is Jenny Hall. She showed up not too long ago with an I.Q. test she'd been given in one of her classes by Mr. Hennigan, teacher and football coach at SEP. The test is very logical and there are no trick questions — so said Jenny who had a whee of a time taking JPK and I to the cleaners on this test. Following is the test...and the answers.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p>I.Q. TEST<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">*******<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">1. Do they have a fourth of July in <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">England</st1:place></st1:country-region>? <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">2. How many birthdays does the average person have?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">3. Why isn't a man living in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Altoona</st1:place></st1:City> buried in Runnells?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">4. If you struck a match and entered a cold room in which there was a kerosene lamp, an oil heater, and a stack of wood, which would you light first?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">5. Some months have 31 days, others have 30; how many have 28?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">6. If a doctor gave you three pills and told you to take one every <span style="">half </span>hour, how long would the pills last?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">7. If a man builds a house in which all sides face south, when a bear walks by, what color is the bear?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">8. I have in my hands two coins which total 55 cents. One coin is not a nickel. What are the two coins?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">9. A farmer has seventeen sheep; all but nine died. How many lived?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">10. If you took two apples from three apples, what do you have?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">11. How many animals of each kind did Moses take on the <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Ark</st1:place></st1:State>?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">12. In <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Iowa</st1:place></st1:State>, is it legal for a man to marry his widow's sister?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">13. Mr. OLLIE LEE bought a new car. He asked, for license- plate number: 337-31770. Why?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">14. A person had gold coins dated 46 B.C. Is this possible? <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">15. Two boys are playing ping pong. Each boy wins the same number of games, yet there are no ties. How is this possible?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">*******</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Answers:<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">1. Yes<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">2. One a year.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">3. He can’t be 6’ under if he’s still alive!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">4. The match<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">5. All of them<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">6. One hour<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">7. White (it would have to be a polar bear)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">8. Nickel and 50-cent piece (ONE of the coins is not a nickel, but the other is!)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">9. Nine<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">10. Two apples<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">11. Moses didn't take any animals on the Ark. Noah did!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">12. Since the wife is a widow that means her husband is dead.<span style=""> </span>Her dead husband can’t marry her sister!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">13. It's his name upside down.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">14. No coin could be dated B.C. — how would coin makers know when Christ would be born? <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">15. Each boy was playing different games.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">*******</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Beware of the conversationalist who adds, "in other words."<span style=""> </span>He/she is merely starting afresh.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 105pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">MMK<o:p></o:p></span></p>kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-63792959750660296952008-07-22T22:54:00.003-05:002008-07-23T08:59:07.678-05:00Stuff breaking downYou know how when one light bulb burns out, it seems like they all follow suit shortly thereafter?<span style=""> </span>And for me, it’s always that obscure light bulb, whose spare is never handy – dining room chandelier, fluorescent in the laundry room, freezer (30+ yrs old!) in the basement.<span style=""> </span>We’ve recently had a string of “incidents” of stuff breaking down, I’m going to call it the Light Bulb Effect.<span style=""> </span>When one thing goes wrong, all sorts of other things seem to follow suit. I’m working very hard on not bitching and complaining all the time, so I will state for the record that the only reason I mention this here, is that I’m happy to say (see? not complaining!) we have a wonderful sense of accomplishment in dealing with each of these little mini-crises, both from a physical and fiscal perspective. <p class="MsoNormal"><u>The Refrigerator<o:p></o:p></u></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The day before Mother’s Day – when I was expecting 22+ for dinner – we noticed some water pooled outside the fridge. An investigation lead to the discovery of melted ice in the freezer.<span style=""> </span>We moved a few things out of the freezer and monitored the situation overnight. Which lead to the discovery of a higher-than-normal temp in the fridge and freezer. Something was definitely wrong.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On a side note, do you know the proper temp for your refrigerator and freezer?<span style=""> </span>Our owners manual called for the “ice cream and milk” test.<span style=""> </span>Put a thing of ice cream in the freezer for several hours. If when you take it out, it’s not frozen hard enough, then the freezer is too warm.<span style=""> </span>Same thing with the milk – put it in the fridge for a while, then pour yourself a glass to drink, if it’s too warm, then your fridge temp is wonky.<span style=""> </span>I need things a little more concrete than that, so I researched for hard facts (yay google):<span style=""> </span>38 for the fridge, 0 for the freezer, I think.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Anyway, we emptied out the fridge and freezer (thank God for a storage freezer in the basement and a “beer fridge” in the garage) and tried a few tricks to get ‘er going.<span style=""> </span>Then, my neighbor LEN suggested we check out <a href="http://www.repairclinic.com/">www.repairclinic.com</a>.<span style=""> </span>The site helps you diagnose your appliance problem and helps you order the right parts.<span style=""> </span>After one false start (wrong part ordered) we installed a new “defrost thermostat” (thanks for your help LEN), and crossed fingers.<span style=""> </span>It worked, but only intermittently.<span style=""> </span>We called a repair person (at this point, we were 7+ weeks into no fridge in the kitchen), he pinpointed the problem immediately, ordered a part, installed it TWO WEEKS later, and we are good to go.<span style=""> </span>Total time to resolve (TTTR):<span style=""> </span>48 days.<span style=""> </span>That’s slightly longer than the gestation period of a kangaroo.<span style=""> </span>Cost:<span style=""> </span>$60 (to repairclinic.com) + $170 to “real” repairman (sorry LEN!)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><u>The Light Fixture<o:p></o:p></u></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Yesterday, a ceiling light fixture just up and fell off.<span style=""> </span>Crash!<span style=""> </span>Broken glass all over the place.<span style=""> </span>It’s been there 8 years without a problem, then BOOM!<span style=""> </span>We have some guys working in the basement right now, and so it’s possible that all the vibrating and pounding caused something to jiggle loose.<span style=""> </span>Still haven’t replaced it, because really, I need something like this to linger for a few months first, but hopefully eventually I’ll be able to just replace the glass part, and not the whole thing.<span style=""> </span>TTTR:<span style=""> </span>24 hours and counting.<span style=""> </span>Anybody wanna place bets on this one?<span style=""> </span>Cost:<span style=""> </span>cheap, real cheap, I hope. Keep your fingers crossed.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><u>The Car Window<o:p></o:p></u></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ordinarily, I would have ignored something like this, but our son just turned 16 and that means driving (I’m actually gagging right now).<span style=""> </span>The car needs to be in top shape mechanically. So the other day when I couldn’t get the back passenger window to open, I ignored it at first.<span style=""> </span>Then a few days later I came out to the car, and the window was open.<span style=""> </span>I tried the auto switch thingy, and it wouldn’t work. So I found I could force it up by sandwiching the glass between my palms and pushing up.<span style=""> </span>Two more go-rounds with the window being down of its own volition, I realized it needed professional help.<span style=""> </span>I made an appointment, took it into the dealer, and was notified that we’d missed recall notices on FOUR different things!<span style=""> </span>So in addition to the window getting fixed, they fixed a whole bunch of other stuff that hasn’t gone wrong yet, but may break down in the future.<span style=""> </span>Possibly when my baby is on the road by himself. And I am sitting on the front stoop chewing off all my fingernails with worry.<span style=""> </span>That will never do!<span style=""> </span>But it’s all better now!<span style=""> </span>TTTR:<span style=""> </span>~2 weeks.<span style=""> </span>Cost:<span style=""> </span>$163 (window only).</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><u>The Perfect Storm<o:p></o:p></u></p> <p class="MsoNormal">You know that book/movie “The Perfect Storm?” Three major storms all come together and make this one massive mess (sadly causing the loss of 7 experienced seamen).<span style=""> </span>Well we had three chaotic incidents occur all on the same day recently, a "perfect storm" of Stuff Breaking Down. And ok, two of them were technically my fault.<span style=""> </span>But, but… well don’t make me feel any worse about it than I already do, ok?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="">The Phone:<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">DB put a pair of cargo shorts in the laundry.<span style=""> </span>I checked the pockets and threw them in the next load.<span style=""> </span>I did not, unfortunately, check the “cargo” pocket, which contained his cell phone. Which apparently is not water proof.<span style=""> </span>I really think he wanted to be super pissed at me, but he did throw them in the laundry, and I did check the OTHER pockets, so technically we share the blame on that.<span style=""> </span>Always thinking on my feet, I quickly remembered that we had a decommissioned spare cell phone (same service provider) that could simply be configured with his number.<span style=""> </span>TTTR:<span style=""> </span>about an hour on the line with customer service.<span style=""> </span>Cost:<span style=""> </span>FREE!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="">The Tractor:<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I do love me a John Deere tractor – and a man on that tractor wearing a sweaty Hawkeye t-shirt, umm-hmmm!<span style=""> </span>He's all mine girls!<span style=""> </span>This spring was time for a tune up and blade sharpening, to the tune of about $500.<span style=""> </span>We got it home and went on our merry way with lawn care, but something always felt a little “off.”<span style=""> </span>After a day of working hard on our basement remodel project – oh and rescuing a cell phone from the laundry - DB went out to mow the lawn.<span style=""> </span>I could hear the tractor from inside, and it really sounded terrible, so I stopped what I was doing and went outside to investigate.<span style=""> </span>About that time, DB also decided it was time to stop and take a look inside the hood. We couldn’t find an exact problem, but it did appear that the engine was only connected by one bolt, so it was rattling around a lot, which caused the horrid noise.<span style=""> </span>Since we’d just been in for repairs, DB assumed they forgot to replace some of the bolts.<span style=""> </span>And boy was he pissed!<span style=""> </span>So pissed at the John Deere guys that he got over being pissed at me for the phone thing.<span style=""> </span>Whew, what a relief.<span style=""> </span>The next morning, he called and made it quite clear that We. Were. Not. Happy.<span style=""> Service Manager </span>said to bring it in (meaning hitch the trailer up, load the tractor on the trailer and drive 15 miles on the highway) and they’d look at it.<span style=""> </span>DB got to the dealership, took one look at the dude behind the service counter, and said “Oh Shit.”<span style=""> </span>The dude was like 6’5”, 320, covered in tattoos, with a face that said “Do not cross me.”<span style=""> </span>DB was all ready to open up a can of you-know-what, but quickly kowtowed to Mr. Tattoo.<span style=""> </span>Turns out they discovered it was supposedly something unrelated to their prior work (whatEVER!) and although it would have been regular price to repair, they split the labor cost in half. <span style=""> </span>TTTR:<span style=""> </span>about 7 days? (thanks neighbors for letting us use your mower in the interim).<span style=""> </span>Cost:<span style=""> </span>$170 (plus the previous $500, but let’s just not think about that for now).</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style="">The Laundry Sink:<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There’s probably some joke in here about everything but the kitchen sink, but please, I’m still not ready to laugh about this one.<span style=""> </span>You see, what I was doing while DB was mowing was cleaning paint brushes. We’d been down in the basement all day applying Drylock to the areas of the basement we’re finishing.<span style=""> </span>I was in the utility sink in our laundry room washing the Drylock/paint out the rollers and brushes.<span style=""> </span>I could hear this horrendous noise (it gets worse and worse as I write this post!), and I dropped what I was doing to rush out and check it out.<span style=""> </span>One thing lead to another and I ended up out there for quite a while.<span style=""> </span>When I came back in, I realized I'd left the water running, and the sink had overflowed, flooding the laundry room, mudroom, and kitchen dining area (wood floor).<span style=""> </span>While I could sop up the water on the floor, my biggest fear was yet to be realized – I knew it was leaking into the basement.<span style=""> </span>I got the first floor under control, went down the stairs and just wanted to throw up.<span style=""> </span>Now, the good news is that the area getting wet was NOT the area we’d just Drylock’d.<span style=""> </span>The bad news is that all the stuff we’d moved out of the to-be-Drylock’d area was located directly under the laundry room.<span style=""> </span>My mess from upstairs was pouring into all the boxes and other crap we’d just placed there earlier in the day.<span style=""> </span>Grrr.<span style=""> </span>No stranger to cleaning up water spills (yes, we’ve done this exact same thing before) I quickly employed the shop vac and another water vacuum.<span style=""> </span>Amazingly, the water sucked up pretty well, and there was no lasting damage.<span style=""> </span>And it didn’t creep over to our newly Drylock’d area.<span style=""> </span>And DB was somewhat understanding, frankly even sweet to me.<span style=""> </span>I mean seriously, shit happens right? And he could tell how truly awful I felt about it.<span style=""> </span>TTTR:<span style=""> </span>hmmm, about two hours of frantic, emergency racing around, emptying full tanks, wringing out towels, sopping up water, flying up and down stairs.<span style=""> </span>Cost:<span style=""> </span>free, sort of.<span style=""> </span>We may eventually replace some insulation that got wet (for the second time), but we’re good for now. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><u>The Doorjamb / The Ceiling in the Parlor<o:p></o:p></u></p> <p class="MsoNormal">These technically are still not resolved, but we’re much closer to fixing than we were on June 1, so I’m counting incremental progress.<span style=""> </span>1)<span style=""> </span>We had some wood rot near the base of our front door – thankfully not termites, just rot. DB has the replacement piece, has cut it to size, has it painted to match the house, and just needs to nail it in.<span style=""> </span>2)<span style=""> </span>A leaking pipe in the kids’ bathroom meant a plumber cut a 18”x18” hole in the ceiling in our parlor. Real nice. We need to replace the drywall, tape and paint that area.<span style=""> </span>This has been and may continue to be a “someday we’ll get around to that” problem, but at lease we now have some drywall, that muddy stuff they stick around drywall and the ceiling paint.<span style=""> </span>Woo hoo.<span style=""> </span>Total time from discovery to resolution:<span style=""> </span>embarrassing – these problems have both existed for at least 4 years, ouch.<span style=""> </span>Cost: not resolved yet. Please cross your fingers for me.<span style=""> </span>Or send a Home Depot gift card.<span style=""> </span>Or a home handyman, for about 1 week.<span style=""> </span>Preferably without a shirt on.<span style=""> </span>Oh wait, did I say that out loud?</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">*****</p> <p class="MsoNormal">So folks, how does the Light Bulb Effect affect you?<span style=""> </span>Got a dryer you can only turn on with a pair of pliers? A door you just can’t open so you go in through the garage instead?<span style=""> </span>Leaking faucet, rusting tools?<span style=""> </span>What’s your home maintenance/repair nemesis?<span style=""> </span>Let’s sit down with a Coors Light and talk it out.<span style=""> </span>I’ll get you through it.<span style=""> </span>I’ve been there my friend. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">*****</p> <p class="MsoNormal">"I was doing some decorating, so I got out my step-ladder.<span style=""> </span>I just don’t get on with my real ladder." - Harry Hill</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">*****</p> <p class="MsoNormal">kk</p>kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-509411182425127222008-07-21T09:32:00.000-05:002008-07-21T09:33:41.985-05:00I'm a runner, I think.<p class="MsoNormal">I am training for a half-marathon in October.<span style=""> </span>Whew.<span style=""> </span>There.<span style=""> </span>I said it out loud.<span style=""> </span>I guess that makes it real now.<span style=""> </span>And when I say “training” it’s important to define what I mean:<span style=""> </span>I subscribed to “Runners World,” I have running clothes with me in the car at all times, I shelled out for a sweet pair of Sauconys, and my iPod is full of running mixes (I know, real runners don’t do iPods, but I like it).<span style=""> </span>I ran a lot over the winter and early spring, doing the requisite Turkey Trot and Santa’s Run, then right when the weather got good and it was gorgeous to run outside, I developed a pain in my hip.<span style=""> </span>I tried stretching more, running less, icing it more, applying heat, running through the pain, and nothing really changed (at least it didn’t get worse!).<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So I finally went to the orthopedist and learned I had bursitis in my hip.<span style=""> </span>Of course!<span style=""> </span>I had that same problem about 7 years ago when I went all gung ho on golf.<span style=""> </span>With a sudden increase in twisting and bending of certain joints, the “bursae” became irritated and enflamed.<span style=""> </span>I’m not medical expert, but briefly, bursae little fluid filled sacs, akin to bubble wrap, serving to reduce friction between moving parts of the body (knee, elbow, hip, etc.).<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Seven years ago, I fell in mad, serious love with a little magic pill (no not that one!) called Vioxx, which made all bad turn good.<span style=""> </span>Then we learned that Vioxx itself was bad, not good (dang the FDA!), so I can’t “fix” the bursitis with it this year.<span style=""> </span>Instead, I’m using an old-school drug – read “now-available-in-generic-so-the-pharma-companies-don’t-market-it” – called Diclofenac to heal this inflammation.<span style=""> </span>It’s working, and the pain is nearly gone.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m testing out my stamina with a three-week race series on July 19, 26 and August 2.<span style=""> </span>Hopefully the hip’ll hold up and my big bum will cross the finish line each time.<span style=""> </span>A little nervous for the August 2 run, as it’s a 10k, my longest ever.<span style=""> </span>But a half-marathon is more than double that 10k distance, so I guess it’s time to put up or shut up.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But why?<span style=""> </span>Why did I start running? Why do I think I can do this?<span style=""> </span>I’m the girl who doesn’t like to sweat.<span style=""> </span>I’ve never really worked out in my life.<span style=""> </span>In spite of an “athletic frame” (so they say), I’ve never meaningfully participated in any kind of organized sport in my life.<span style=""> </span>So why me, why now?<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My friend is on staff with a non-profit marathon organization.<span style=""> </span>She needed volunteers to help at a Spring ’06 duathlon.<span style=""> </span>For one morning, I could get up early and help out a little bit, right?<span style=""> </span>So I stood there selling t-shirts and guarding the awards table (<span style="font-size:8;">quietly grumbling to self that I should still be in bed!</span>), and just became enamored with everything going on – the free massages, volunteers giving out bananas and bagels, the race coordinators on their walkie-talkies dealing with cars on our blocked-off streets, and later a rider who wiped out bad (she was okay).<span style=""> </span>I had a bird’s-eye view of runners coming in, grabbing their bikes, and coming back in – it seemed – only minutes later to cross the finish line.<span style=""> </span>First<span style=""> </span>were the “real athletes,” rock hard bodies barely breaking a sweat, who seemed to all know or at least know of each other, in teams and pairs and singles, high-fiving and fist pumping, celebrating their achievement.<span style=""> </span>Later, some dads and a few moms I know from the soccer field and around town, crossing that line, also with ease, and a look of accomplishment on their faces.<span style=""> </span>There was a father-daughter pair, one waiting for the other so they could cross together, holding hands.<span style=""> </span>There was the injured biker, limping across finally, with help from her husband, and collapsing in his arms at the end, with tears of relief and victory, probably some real pain too.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Everyone was so <i style="">alive</i> and there was a real sense of community, and goodness, and people who just belonged there.<span style=""> </span>And they were a bunch of healthy folks let me tell ya.<span style=""> </span>All this before 10:30 in the morning. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now about this time in my life, I was in a crazy-intense job, getting out of bed every morning after a sleepless night to trudge to the office, partying too much on the weekends to ignore the details of the past week and the responsibilities of the coming week. The only thing that got me out of bed before 9am on a Saturday was an early soccer or football game – and even then, it was unshowered-wrapped-in-a-blanket-Diet-Coke-in-hand.<span style=""> </span>I suffered from high blood pressure, gained about 50 pounds over an 8 year stretch (ouch, that hurts to even admit in writing!), and although outwardly I projected a happy smile all the time, on the inside I was in a dark place.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That spring morning was a real eye opener for me, but I still wasn’t thinking that <i style="">someone like me</i> would actually participate in a race.<span style=""> </span>In the fall, I again volunteered for a marathon, and that was even cooler than the spring experience.<span style=""> </span>I must’ve stood on that finish line cheering for three hours straight.<span style=""> </span>The palms of my hands were even bruised from clapping so much. And this marathon is known for its celebration – tons of vendors, kids’ activities, huge organic smorgasbord for the runners, excellent (and well run) beer tent for grown ups, and plenty of port-a-potties.<span style=""> </span>And again, I felt a real excitement for the running community, they just looked so dang <i style="">cool</i>, but never thought of myself as a runner – thinking “that’s for other people that I will support and encourage and have fun with, but that’s about it.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Fast forward, I left my job for something much better suited to me, got my blood pressure somewhat under control with medication, and focused on my family and my life, and became a much more calm and loving person, still not working out at all, and still overweight, but mentally heading in the right direction.<span style=""> </span>We went away to <st1:place st="on">Cape Cod</st1:place> in July 07, and I had a conversation with a 69 year old man, the father of some friends.<span style=""> </span>That morning he won first place in a 4.12 mile with a time of 33 minutes, and was proudly wearing his medal.<span style=""> </span>I thought it was cute in a cute-for-an-old-guy kind of way, and frankly a little bit silly that he was wearing the medal, but after talking with him for a while, I realized that it really was a big accomplishment and he had something to be proud of (side note: I only WISH I had a medal right now!).<span style=""> </span>He off-handedly said “you should run – I bet you’d like it” as we ended our conversation.<span style=""> </span>Just two weeks later, he suffered a heart attack while out on a run, and died.<span style=""> </span>No prior problems, no family history. It just happened.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was shocking and so sad – too young!!<span style=""> </span>And his words haunted me… “I bet you’d like it!”<span style=""> </span>I found the next available race, an August 5k, and signed up, husband and kids too.<span style=""> </span>We ran in honor of Mr. Hughes, and I ran to meet his challenge – “you should run.”<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I didn’t train at all, and was nervous and scared as the big day approached.<span style=""> </span>Hubby and kids took off immediately, and I stayed in the back of the pack the whole way.<span style=""> </span>Coming into the home stretch, I was really doubting my sanity, man, and when I saw a shortcut off the race route that would take me back to the starting area, I almost took it.<span style=""> </span>But there were three of us ladies passing each other back and forth in that last mile, and I just couldn’t chicken out if they were staying in it.<span style=""> </span>Well folks, I MADE IT, choking back proud tears that last quarter mile.<span style=""> </span>HOLEEE CRAP! I made it!<span style=""> </span>My time was 44:+, but I did it. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That’s it; I was bit by the bug.<span style=""> </span>I did an October 5k, and the previously mentioned Turkey Trot and Santa’s Run, this time with training.<span style=""> </span>In fact, I started running in earnest following that August 5k, and haven’t really stopped, current injury notwithstanding.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">By the way, my time in the 5k this past Saturday, the first in the 3 race series, was 33:20.<span style=""> </span>More than 10 minutes better than the first race 11 months ago. <span style=""> </span>I may not be taking the racing world by storm, but I’m loving my new-found health and sense of personal accomplishment.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">See you on the starting line!</p>kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-79743957511357026252008-07-03T13:37:00.000-05:002008-07-03T13:38:26.415-05:00<p class="MsoNormal">Happy Birthday today to my boy, NKB.<span style=""> </span>He’s 16 today!<span style=""> </span>And not really “my boy” any longer, as he TOWERS over me at 6’3” and growing.<span style=""> </span>He’ll be legally behind the wheel soon, and I think I’m ready for it.<span style=""> </span>We have to attend a 2 hour parent “driver’s ed” class, and learn the latest restrictions imposed on teen drivers by the <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Connecticut</st1:place></st1:State> legislature.<span style=""> </span>There sure seems to be no need for parental involvement with teaching a kid rules of the road – the folks in the Statehouse have it all figured out for us. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />NKB is what I like to call a “solid citizen” – just a good person to have around.<span style=""> </span>Except for those early school years where we were concerned about <i style="">ahem</i> active behavior (he really didn’t dig sitting in a circle with other kids during story time – would rather be up and moving around!), he excels in school, hangs around with a good crew, and is very sweet and loving to his family, especially his little sister (hmph!).</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />I woke up at 1:48 am today, to briefly reflect on his arrival 16 years ago, smiled at the sweet memories, then promptly drifted back to Never-Never-Land.<span style=""> </span>Today has been fun recalling memories of birthdays past – his 4<sup>th</sup> birthday, where we had a 4 week old baby, a 4 week old puppy, and 8 pre-schoolers with Kool-Aid in our basement, crazy!<span style=""> </span>His 9<sup>th</sup> birthday, where we invited his entire 2<sup>nd</sup> grade class – some of the moms are still scandalized that I allowed him to have the “first” boy/girl party in their grade… puh-leaze!<span style=""> </span>His 7<sup>th</sup> grade birthday, where it really was a boy/girl party… and the girls wore make up, mini-skirts and perfume, and the boys?<span style=""> </span>The boys pretty much ignored them. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />Sixteen is a cool age – the first age where you’re legally “old enough” for stuff – old enough to drive a golf cart, old enough to work, old enough to sit in the exit row on an airplane.<span style=""> </span>Do you suppose he’s old enough now to choose whether or not to make his bed each morning?<span style=""> </span>I don’t think we’ll ever win that one.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />Happy Birthday Nino.<span style=""> </span>I love you!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />****</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My friends Kip and Jess are organizing the B.A.A.C. Motorcycle Rodeo on July 12.<span style=""> </span>I encourage anyone who’s in the area to stop by, have some fun and support a great cause.<span style=""> </span>Bikers Against Animal Cruelty (BAAC) is a group of compassionate motorcyclists who work with many different rescue organizations to improve the lives of abused, neglected and abandoned animals.<span style=""> </span>They provide material and financial support, public awareness and education.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />The bike rally sounds like a total blast.<span style=""> </span>At the <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Glastonbury</st1:place></st1:City> Elks Club, <st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">98 Woodland Street</st1:address></st1:Street>, July 12, 1pm-6pm.<span style=""> </span>Your $20 admission gets you in to participate in all the rodeo events, free keg beer and dog agility course.<span style=""> </span>I’m not a biker gal and have never been to a bike rodeo, but Kip tells me that I should do the “Weenie Bite Contest.”<span style=""> </span>Not quite sure what all that entails, but will keep you posted.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />The guys from Rescue Ink are coming up from NYC, and we’ll also see the Terry Rand Band and Violent Rein.<span style=""> </span>With dozens of vendors participating, you can get your pet’s name tatoo’d on your butt, purchase some hot chaps and see some really sweet bikes. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />I don’t know who is picking up all the dog poop, but pets are totally welcome, and there will be plenty of water stations available for our four-legged friends, courtesy of Purina ProPlan Rally to Rescue.<span style=""> Shelter items will be collected as well.<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />For more info, check out the B.A.A.C. website:<span style=""> </span><a href="http://www.bikersagainstanimalcruelty.org/">http://www.bikersagainstanimalcruelty.org/</a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">****</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Mahatma Gandhi</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">kk</p>kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-39832734577843064562008-07-02T14:37:00.003-05:002008-07-02T15:01:51.916-05:00Old Home Week(end)<o:p> </o:p>Last weekend, I went to <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Des Moines</st1:place></st1:City> to visit my mom and to attend my 20<sup>th</sup> high school reunion.<span style=""> </span>With plane tickets almost as expensive as a year of college, DB stayed home and I attended solo, although my date for the Friday night soiree was my high school buddy, M2, Esq., with whom I’d totally lost touch over the years.<span style=""> </span>We picked right back up where we left off and all was right with the world.<span style=""> </span> <p class="MsoNormal">With just a few exceptions, most of the conversations went like this:</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"><o:p> </o:p><br />Other Person:<span style=""> </span>“So, where are you living now?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;">Me:<span style=""> </span>“<st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Connecticut</st1:place></st1:State>.<span style=""> </span>How about you, still in <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Des Moines</st1:City></st1:place>?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;">Other Person:<span style=""> </span>“Yep.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"><i style="">pause<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;">Me:<span style=""> </span>“So, are you married? how many kids do you have?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;">Other Person:<span style=""> </span>“Three kids, 9, 7 and 4.<span style=""> </span>You?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;">Me:<span style=""> </span>“Two.<span style=""> </span>16 and 12.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"><i style="">pause<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;">Other Person:<span style=""> </span>“Wow, it sure is strange seeing everyone again.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;">Me:<span style=""> </span>“Yep, it sure is.<span style=""> </span>Well I’m gonna go get a beer.<span style=""> </span>See you soon.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />And you know what?<span style=""> </span>That was just fine.<span style=""> </span>It <i style="">was</i> good to catch up on the essentials of my former classmates’ lives, without getting too personal.<span style=""> </span>Where the interest was mutual, we did go deeper and share more details, more stories.<span style=""> </span>I only got pulled into one Jerry-Springer-esque moment, making me ever thankful for my dear DB who loves me and cherishes me, and who is a great dad to our perfectly-well-adjusted normal children. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">*****</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Speaking of my brilliant offspring, they are away at camp right now.<span style=""> </span>A month-long all-round good ol’ fashioned American camp – the same <st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on">camp</st1:PlaceType> <st1:placename st="on">DB</st1:PlaceName></st1:place> and his sister attended as kids.<span style=""> </span>In fact, let me give a little shout out to the good folks at <st1:placetype st="on">Camp</st1:PlaceType> <st1:placename st="on">Lincoln</st1:PlaceName> and Camp <st1:place st="on">Lake</st1:place> Hubert <a href="http://www.lincoln-lakehubert.com/">www.lincoln-lakehubert.com</a>, who are providing my kids with more fun than I could ever hope to these long summer days.<span style=""> </span>Founded in 1909, plans are underway for a 100<sup>th</sup> anniversary celebration next summer, and we’re sure to be involved in some way.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br />I’ve only visited the camp twice, for an hour each time, but Camp holds a very special place in our family’s heart.<span style=""> </span>DB met <st1:city st="on">Murray</st1:City> at Camp, lo these many years ago, and now <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Murray</st1:City></st1:place> and wife Chelle are godparents to our girl.<span style=""> </span>We have a lovely “<st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on">Camp</st1:PlaceType> <st1:placename st="on">Lincoln</st1:PlaceName></st1:place>” sign on the wall in our office, and more pictures of DB on horseback there than I can count.<span style=""> </span>I just ran across a scrapbook of DB’s camp awards, and smiled recognizing some of those same patches on our kids’ bulletin boards – Bowman 1<sup>st</sup> Class, Archer, Yeoman, Crewman and more.<span style=""> </span>In fact, on my first visit, I got to see where DB carved his name onto the barn wall:<span style=""> </span>Stable Hand In Training.<span style=""> </span>I’ll let you figure out that acronym.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><br /><span style=""> </span>Camp provides an opportunity for our kids to slow down and simply be kids – no text messaging, no boyfriend/girlfriend drama, no Facebook, they don’t even have television!<span style=""> </span>Most importantly, the kids get a taste of pure, deep, and true friendship.<span style=""> </span>The intensity of these friendships, insulated by time and place and circumstance, is unique to camp.<span style=""> </span>This is where they learn to give and receive the pure sweet love of friendship.<span style=""> </span>Maybe these relationships will endure for the next 20 years, or perhaps will end with the bus ride home.<span style=""> </span>Either way, I’m glad they have this experience now.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>*****</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My sister Mary Pat was a camp counselor for many years, and is now head counselor at her home – directing her own children’s summer experience.<span style=""> </span>That includes a trip for all three of them to visit their favorite aunt/sister in a few weeks!<span style=""> </span>We will have so much fun!<span style=""> </span>I am organizing a trip to <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">New York City</st1:place></st1:City>, and my plan is to get advance tickets to be able to go into the Statue of Liberty pedestal and observation deck.<span style=""> </span>Although I’ve been to the City and Status of Liberty numerous times with my kids, actually going inside is a first, and completely new to my niece and nephew.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>*****</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Speaking of Mary Pat’s camp experience, and in keeping with my Old Home Week theme, here’s a reprint from Mom’s archives:<span style=""> </span>(p.s. once I figure out how to post a .pdf on this blog, you’ll get the original.<span style=""> </span>For now, a cut and paste job)</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><o:p> </o:p><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">From the Round Oak Table, July 8, 1982<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p><br />As we watched the Adventureland fireworks display this past weekend I wondered why we had driven seven miles to view a commercial sky show when the heavens were showing off an even more spectacular event. The moon was almost full, ..could even pick out the <i>man in the </i><i style="">moon</i>...and the stars were blinking and twinkling in their constellations. Nature's <span style=""> </span>weekend sky show was capped off with a rare display—the longest total lunar eclipse since 1859. It lasted one hour and 46 minutes. The next time an eclipse of the moon, of this duration, will occur is July 2000 according to the U.S. Naval <span style=""> </span>Observatory. That last bit of information is for those of us who like to plan ahead. (Incidentally, cloudy skies obscured the event for central lowans.)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">****<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">We have our own version of Marmaduke living in for a few days, while its owner is on vacation. Guido is a playful puppy who doesn't like the restraints of a rope. We have put him on hold in several spots in the yard and the thing he does best is get the rope wound around the apple trees, laundry pole, picnic table, and lawn chairs. Have you ever gotten up at 1:30 a.m. to untangle a dog? Over the weekend he discovered JPK's flower beds. And like a child doing naughty things for attention, he constantly wallowed in the beds even though he got a swat on the haunches each time he did it. This heat is a little hard on dogs since they don't seem to have sweat glands so we've tried to keep a bowl of water available. Guido doesn't seem to realize that the water will cool him. He dumps the bowl at every opportunity. Like Marmaduke, Guido wants to be around and on people. Just one night, when it was thundering and lightning, we invited him in the house to sleep. Do you know that a king size bed is only big enough for one, very large puppy? And his lunges of excitement when we play with him, call for us to be anchored in cement so we won't be toppled. Somehow in spite of his antics, Guido has convinced JPK it would be fun to have a dog around full time. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">****<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Katie won the wager on the number of names the new Prince of England would have. I thought at least 10, but she got it on the money with 4. Too bad the little babe will never know what it's like to <i>be just plain Bill<o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">****<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mary Pat reports that she is enjoying her counselor duties in <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">New York</st1:place></st1:State>. Her title is Pioneer Specialist and this means she helps plan and supervise overnight hikes, lives in a teepee with several campers, prepares two meals a day over a campfire and assists with teaching the young girls about the nature surrounding them. All this for a young woman who squeals at the sight of a garter snake, whose food specialty is <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Campbell</st1:place></st1:City>'s Tomato Soup and who's enjoyed the comforts of sleeping inside for 20 years. She writes that most of the campers are from New York City and have sever realized more than yard of concrete, homing projects and the ways of the street.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">****<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">JPK and I were delighted to find supper ready when we <span style=""> </span>came home from work one night last week.<span style=""> </span>On her way out the door, Liz said, “Oh, I fixed chili.<span style=""> </span>It’s in the crock pot.<span style=""> </span>I don’t know why it’s so thin, but it sure tastes good." JPK investigated and couldn't find any beans in the mixture, so he added a couple of cans to get the right thickness. The next day Liz said to us, "Well, how did you like the spaghetti last night?" "Spaghetti! But you told us it was supposed to be chili and so we added beans." We haven't tried the leftover mixture over pasta, but as chili it tasted pretty good.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">****<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Wrinkles should merely show where the smiles have been.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size: 9.5pt; font-family: "Times New Roman";">MMK<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">*****</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Let freedom ring!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">kk</p>kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-55258660613103269362008-06-25T08:34:00.002-05:002008-06-25T08:39:29.741-05:00The Birthday Club<p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">I have a lovely group of friends whom I adore.<span style=""> </span>We get together monthly for “Birthday Club” to celebrate the lucky girl who adds another candle to her cake that month.<span style=""> </span>There are 11 of us – one for each month, except November.<span style=""> </span>My dear sweet DB often claims that HE is Miss November, since his birthday actually IS in November.<span style=""> </span>I let him play along, but really, no boys allowed.<span style=""> </span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>We usually get together for drinks and food, at a restaurant or someone’s house.<span style=""> </span>We try to spice things up a bit – bowling, going to a movie (that was a very bad idea), music in the park, manicures/pedicures, ceramics and more.<span style=""> </span>I like it best when we everyone can make it, and when we have opportunities to “share.”<span style=""> </span>“Sharing” for me is a grown up version of the ice breaker games we used to play at summer camp.<span style=""> </span>Topics range from “how’d you meet your husband,” to most embarrassing college story to child-bearing and more.<span style=""> </span>We don’t really have formalized “topics” anymore, because we all know each other so much better than when we started four years ago.<span style=""> </span>Now, “sharing” is deeper and more meaningful discussions about life and love, raising teenagers, living healthy lives, taking care of aged parents. We have different backgrounds and different perspectives, and no one is afraid to share their opinion or give advice. This is the stuff of life, and without these dear friends, these sisters of mine, I would be adrift.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Now that sounds all serious and all, and it is, but really at our core, we’re a bunch of women who like to have a lot of fun!<span style=""> </span>When we go to a restaurant, we are loud – borderline obnoxious?<span style=""> </span>We like to talk and laugh and tell stories.<span style=""> </span>And when you get 11 people in one place – men or women – they’re gonna get loud!<span style=""> </span>Sometimes it’s near to impossible to get a word in edgewise.<span style=""> </span>But we do all seem to manage somehow!</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>We had a wonderful time last night, with several of us first going for a walk/hike along a nature preserve in our town.<span style=""> </span>Our path followed a very swiftly flowing brook, and at several points we were astounded by the beautiful rapids it produced.<span style=""> </span>We were also amazed to see a few homes along the path – places we never even knew existed, and marveled at how lucky these folks were to live in such a peaceful setting.<span style=""> </span>We ventured just about as far as possible, toward the end climbing over and up moss-covered rocks and fallen trees.<span style=""> </span>We skipped rocks (or is it “skimmed” rocks?) like a bunch of kids, and I could have stayed there forever.<span style=""> </span>But the mosquitoes were a-bitin’ and the rest of our friends (and wine and food!) were a-waitin’ back at the restaurant.<span style=""> </span>It was a great way to burn off some calories (approx 491 for me!) before loading up on a big meal.<br /><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>**********</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>A shout out to my sister Liz in <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">California</st1:place></st1:state>, who’s undergoing major surgery today.<span style=""> </span>I love you sister, and I know you’re in good hands.<span style=""> </span>For anyone out there who’s a praying woman – pray for Liz today.<span style=""> </span>For the surgeons who will heal her. For her daughters who will take care of her. For Pat who loves her.<span style=""> </span>Amen.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>**********</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p><span style="">"Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow.<br />Don't walk behind me, I may not lead.<br />Walk beside me and be my friend."<br /><i>- Albert Camus</i></span></p>kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404456450705866080.post-37598725996248149382008-06-24T10:51:00.002-05:002008-06-24T12:32:58.180-05:00What's the Round Oak Table?<div class="post-body entry-content"> When I was a kid growing up in small town, USA, my mom wrote a column in the weekly newspaper. It was the only newspaper that covered the six small communities that made up our rural consolidated school district. The column was called "From the Round Oak Table." I suppose the name originated from the idyllic view that Mother, in her spare moments, using fountain pen and personalized heavy-weight stationary, would sit at the kitchen table and jot down sweet musings on the comings and goings of our family, our community and the world. Yeah right.<br /><br />In truth, the Table was generally covered with the mail, school notices, newspapers, a dish or two, the phone book, some laundry, art projects, and more. Amazingly, the Table was cleared and set for dinner every night - all the stuff piled back on after dinner. Mom's column was composed on her trusty IBM Selectric (or a Selectric II - new machines appeared often), which sat on a rolling typewriter table, which got wheeled around the kitchen and dining room on an as-needed basis. The typewriter table was littered with lift-off tape, ashtrays, spare typeballs, white-out, and scraps of paper representing future columns. Her column was due on Monday mornings, so this generally meant staying up very late on Sunday nights typing, then rushing into town early the next morning to get it into the drop box.<br /><br />From the Round Oak Table chronicled our family's life and so much more, a sort of pre-historic "blog" if you will. She preserved our privacy, much like today's bloggers - Dad was JPK, sisters and I identified by first name only, and Mom signed off as MMK. But everybody in our small town and the surrounding towns knew who we were. As a kid, I never thought much about Mom's column, it just <span style="font-style: italic;">was</span>. Mom started the ROT in about November 1974, when I was four years old. She retired from the ROT earlier this century. That's 25-plus years of life, opinions, activism, history, and love.<br /><br />The Round Oak Table covers a wide range of topics: raising a family, living in a small town, local and national politics, taxes and the economy, citizenship, faith, maintaining a household, the weather and much much more. We may even have a few guest writers on occasion.<br /><br />From time to time, I'll give you a repeat from Mom's archives, but mostly you'll get my 21st century perspective on what's happening 'round the Round Oak Table.<br /><br />--kk </div> <span class="post-author vcard"></span>kikibibihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04837286851897871812noreply@blogger.com1