Preschool

After enjoying Little-Sir-3-Year-Old thoroughly, I am sad to report that he will becoming Little-Sir-4-Year-Old at the end of May. DH told me this evening that his job shift may be changing again come September, meaning that no one will be home during school hours, so I am faced with considering pre-K. This isn't an awful thing, I know, but I wasn't ready for it. We've taken advantage of the fun little classes at Riverhead Library, and he loves his weekly play-dates, but pre-K is serious business. Probably 5 days a week, all day. He'll probably love it, but I'm getting teary.

So, dear fellow-parents, teachers, aunties, grandparents, etc., I am looking for recommendations. I've heard bits and pieces about Lyrical, St. David's, Raynor and Riverhead Country Day Schools. If you were sending your precious little lamb off into the big wide world by himself all day, where would you send him?

The Mouse Hunt

We are being invaded again. Part of the joy of living on a country road, across the street from the river, surrounded by trees, is that we see deer regularly, have lots of migratory songbirds, ducks and geese. Another part is that our garbage cans are regularly raided by raccoons (we keep them locked in the shed, but they have to go out on garbage day, and the truck seems to come about 4:30 a.m.) Possums get run over on our street pretty regularly, and that's not a pretty sight.

We also have regular invasions by
the ants
and
(gasp!)
mice.

I always thought people with mice in their houses were dirty people who left food out all over the place. Since living in this house, I've learned that any old house (ours is over 100) has lots of little holes for mice to get in, and in cold weather, they make it their business to get in and be warm. We have diligently plugged up any small crevice we've found with steel wool, and finally, I announced last week, that we've finally gotten through a whole winter without a mouse sighting.

And then, I came home Saturday, to the happy announcement from my DH that he saw a large one escaping behind the stove. No telltale droppings, which is how we usually knew they were here. But he said it was so big, it had trouble getting through the small opening between the stove and the brick chimney.

sigh

"Big" probably means pregnant. Oh goody.

So, the war ensued. DH has taken to all sorts of ingenious trapping ( I won't use poison.) This mouse is very very smart. It has managed to eat the peanut butter bait from the traps, leaving them un-triggered. DH, on the other hand, has caught his fingers in the traps a few times, just baiting and setting them. He's tried different types.

Well, finally, I was greeted this morning by his success. Yuck. I won't touch it. It's his job. He can remove that carcass. Yuck.

Now, why is it, that I love nature, and get a kick out of watching squirrels gathering and eating acorns and things, stuffing their little pouches, and get all excited when I see a chipmunk...but I freak out when there's a mouse in my house? If I saw the same mouse Outside, say eating birdseed on the stoop or something, I'd think it was cute, and would watch it for awhile. But in my kitchen is a different matter altogether. And, I'm scared it will come under the bedroom door when we're sleeping. When my hand hangs over the side of the mattress, I get creeped-out, thinking it's sniffing my hand. Ew!!!

I am an enigma to myself.

Happy Birthday, Christy!

Tomorrow, St. Patrick's Day, is my DD's birthday. She's here for one more day on her "Spring Break" and is happy to have this winter storm. She'd missed the snow, being in school in Florida. I'm just hoping Sunday everything is clear so there's no more airport difficulties. I do not want a repeat of what happened for the Feb. break.

So, happy birthday, Christy! I love you, my girl!

How Best to Endure Idiots

Even tho' I promised myself I'd do the taxes early this year, get the financial aid stuff done for our colleges, and hopefully get a refund instead of paying, here it is mid-March and I hadn't started yet. This morning I didn't have to go to a school, so I could sleep in. My body didn't realize that, and the built-in alarm clock went off at 5:45 a.m., in a panic, thinking I'd overslept. (sigh) I didn't have to be up so early, but I was, so...no time like the present to finally do those pesky taxes. (One must continue to support the reigning beauracracy, even when one does not agree with 95% of what they spend my money on.)

I had bought one of those computer tax programs, and plugged away at it, step by step. Finally I came to the end, and it asked me if I'd like to E-File. Of course, since they're giving me a little money, instead of the other way around. Then, it decided it wasn't going to let me E-File after all, so I had to print the returns and mail them. Only it wouldn't let me print either. So, I figured I'd take it to the library and print it there. Couldn't figure out how to do that, so I called the 800 number for customer support.

Why do they have idiots answering phones, when they're supposed to be manned by experts? It didn't matter how I phrased the question, "But what do I have to do to be able to print this?"...Mr. Bright Light on the other end kept talking in circles about the expertise of the program and all the wonderful things it could do...blah blah blah blah blah. After 2 call-backs, trying to get a different operator, with no better results, my DH started laughing in the background..."HHHOOOWWW do I print this???" You'd think it's a basically easy question. It's not all that unusual for people to print a paper copy of their tax returns and mail them. This is a company who specializes in doing taxes, and it's this guy's job to answer software issue questions...so...this isn't brain surgery...I just want to know How Do I Print This???

2 hours later, after trying various methods myself, I finally got another genius on the phone who said they could email the return to me, and then I could print it. (This sounds ridiculous, but at this point, I didn't care any more.) I had to say...and spell...my email address at least 10 times...very slowly...and he still didn't get it. Finally, he asked if I had another email address, which I do, so we tried that. I'm not even gonna say how many tries that took.

I am convinced that idiots rule the phone-answering customer-service business. They can't help being stupid, and one must be nice to stupid people...but all I want to do is print my taxes already!

Ok. Rant officially over.

Music on a Cold Winter's Afternoon

My students had a music recital at the Riverhead Library this afternoon. Even though I'm not the one performing (except for a little accompaniment), I get so nervous...by proxy, I think. I am always headachy and exhausted afterward.

Now, 10 hours later, the music is still buzzing through my head, and there's this lovely feeling of accomplishment. Another successful one down, how many to go???

One of the joys of being a private teacher is that I get to totally design my own curriculum, without any Big Brother adminstration peeking over my shoulder, and no "state standards" to satisfy. My students and I can explore pieces, composers, and styles of our own choosing, and the recitals are always a delicious blend of the result. Some students even compose their own pieces to perform. J.S. Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven sit side-by-side with Joplin and Gershwin, Rodgers and Hammerstein, with a little Ibeniz and Paige & Plant thrown in for good measure.

I absolutely love that electric ripple that runs through the audience when a particularly talented student plays a well-prepared piece, chosen to impress. When a 7-year-old, whose feet don't even touch the floor, swinging gently in the air beneath the piano bench, pounds out Beethoven's "Symphony No. 5", I can hear little gasps echo around the room. And then, when a 5th grader zips through "In the Mood", of the Glenn Miller Orchestra's fame, I can feel the people smiling without even looking out at them. Later, when a little boy deftly fingers the classical guitar piece "Malaguena", moving from soft, frenetic fingerpicking to driving Spanish style strumming, the energy pulses through the room with the beat of his hand. Piece by piece, the listeners are absorbed in the performance, finally sated with the last dramatic chord of "Rhapsody in Blue."

ahhh...another day's work is done...

Just a Little Perspective

While struggling to walk across the yard from my car to the house, on ground that had been a mud-slush mess the day before, and now was frozen solid into ankle-breaking bumps and clumps, keeping my face burrowed in my nice, woolly turtleneck, struggling to find the door key with my bulky thermal gloves on, "oofing" because the cold makes me have to pee even more, the cell phone rang. I answered it after I got in the door, because I could see it was DD.

"Hi, Mom!" she says brightly. "What're you doing?"

"I just got home," I said. "What're you doing?"

"Oh, nothing right now. But I'm going to the beach tomorrow with some friends" (she goes to college in sunny Florida.)

"That is not even in my scope of reality right now," I shivered, toying with the idea of actually turning up the heat in the house.

"Oh, it's in the 90's here..."

sigh

On Being More Appreciative

I was reminded of LunaChick's entry about vacuuming out the inside of the vacuum (after removing the bag...) when I accidentally lit myself on fire. I had just taken my early a.m. shower, and was wrapped in my new robe from Turkey that my sister-in-law gave me. It's thick terrycloth, wonderfully soft and cuddly and absorbent (hence the term "Turkish towel.") Tiptoeing around the house, so as not to awaken DH or Little-Sir-3-Year-Old (and have more time to do schoolwork in peace and quiet,) I was being extra careful about unnecessary noise.

Our gas stove has an electric self-ignite (you know, the click-click-click-whoosh of flame), but sometimes, when I clean around the burners, it doesn't work so well for a day or so and needs a match to get it started. We have a box of kitchen safety matches, but they're almost all gone, and I couldn't find them in the store. DH brought home some cheapy ones from the gas station to tie us over. Now, I've had a problem with these cheapy ones before...they are hard to strike, and sometimes, because I press so hard, the sulphur-topped tip comes off when it ignites, flying like a tiny burning meteor. Once before, one of those little meteors hit my neck and burned me. So, Miss Brilliant Mind that I am, I knew that this could happen, and the "Little Voice" in my head said, "don't use the cheapy ones, use a safety match." But the Miss Stubborn Cheapskate side of me said, "No, they're almost all gone, and I have to save them." (for what???)

Very, very quietly I filled the teakettle with water, set it on the stove, took out my teacup and sugar bowl, reached for the cheapy matches and struck one. I promptly went up in flames. The tiny flying meteor must've hit the robe (which was damp, fortunately), and fast-as-lightning, the top layer of little terrycloth loops were burning all down my front. I quickly patted them out, then heard a "whoosh" down my back, and realized the back was on fire, too. I took off the robe, wrapped it up, extinguished it, and threw it in the shower to wet it thoroughly (all in my naked glory in my budget-conscious-low-temperatured house...thank goodness Number One Son wasn't home to see...)

I was mildly shaking, thanking God that I didn't have to be rushed to the hospital with awful burns. I was mourning my beautiful yellow robe, which now has an over-layer of dark brown where the loops have been burned off, and a small hole in the back that's black around the edges.

And then it hit me.

I've done this before.

sigh

P.S.

As a post script to my previous entry, in light of Erma Bombeck's thinking, and generally being more appreciative, I would like to say that:

1. This cold weather makes me really enjoy a good hot shower. Of all the things modern society has given us, clean, hot, running water is a particularly wonderful advance for me.

2. I've recently learned that sleep burns more calories than reading or watching t.v., has multiple physical and mental health benefits, and that most women don't get enough of it. To that end, I will gratefully hibernate more this February.

3. I've also learned that skin exfoliants, such as scrubs, are particularly beneficial in this cold weather. So, this morning I treated my face and feet (and thereby, my hands, also) to a nourishing scrub (in the hot shower, of course.) I feel deliciously warm and free of the top layer of dead skin cells now, thank you very much. It's supposed to make me prettier, too. Hmmm...

4. This cold weather has made me really appreciate my one online course, and that I only have to drive to Stony Brook Univ. 2 nights a week, instead of 5, like last semester.

Ok. Now I feel properly appreciative, instead of whining. Thank you.

February Doldrums

I agree with Natasha from her "Thinking Out Loud" blog. This weather is making me fat!

I just cannot make myself go out walking or jogging when I can feel the flesh of my face freeze after 5 minutes. The last time I tried, I was covered up to the eyelids, breathing through my favorite, soft scarf. Well, my breath caused condensation inside my scarf, and this condensation quickly froze. I then had tiny ice beads scraping my face as I plodded along. I was afraid to go too fast, for fear of hitting a patch of ice and ending up on my butt, hurting something.

I am always cold, except when driving my car, which has had ample time to heat up. At home, I'm trying not to call the oil man too soon, so the thermostat's as low as I can stand it. I periodically jump around the house, warming up and burning a few calories. But my basic survival has been drinking lots and lots of hot beverages...and all I want to eat is comfort food...potatoes (baked boiled, mashed, I don't care as long as they're hot!), chocolate (especially in the form of warm chocolate chip cookies), warm grandmotherly things like nutbreads and pumpkin muffins...I'm fantacizing about this stuff!

Meanwhile, the scale is creeping up IN THE WRONG DIRECTION! Ugh. You'd think all this cold would be making me burn extra calories, but apparently not enough. And, in the evening, all I want to do is get under the covers and watch a movie. (I've been a regular at the library's video/DVD shelf.)
Now, repeat after me...
I am not a couch potato
I am not a couch potato.

Maybe I'll make a pot of chicken soup with lots of veggies. It's hot and comforting, and nutritious, but not fattening.

Brrr.

Hello All,

A friend of mine sent this in an email, and I thought it good enough to post here. I tried copying and pasting it, as it had pretty pictures, but alas...I am technologically challenged and all I got was black and white print.

I grew up reading Erma Bombeck, and loved her. So, from Erma and me, to all of you in Blogland.

In honor of women's history month and in memory of Erma Bombeck who lost her fight with cancer.

IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER - by Erma Bombeck (written after she found out she was dying from cancer).

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.
I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.
I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband. I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have sat on the lawn with my grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.
I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that t he wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."
There would have been more "I love you's" More "I'm sorry's."
But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it... live it and never give it back.
STOP SWEATING THE SMALL STUFF!!!
Don't worry about who doesn't like you, who has more, or who's doing what
Instead, let's cherish the relationships we have with those who do love us.
Let's think about what God HAS blessed us with, and what we are doing each day to promote ourselves mentally, physically, emotionally.

The Beauty of Winter

The beach in winter has its own spectacular beauty, especially when it's been cold enough to freeze. I've been watching the bays from afar all week, waiting for the opportunity to go for a long walk, when the icy blasts of February died down. Today was perfect! DH, Little-Sir-3-Year-Old and I went to Indian Island and walked all along the beach border this afternoon.

There's something particularly lovely about the edges, where the foam is frozen, and the ice is in waves, like they've been flash-frozen. The air was still cold, but not brutally chillingly so, like it has been. The sun felt warm on us, as we happily tramped along, watching a flotilla of swans where the ice ended and the water smoothly flowed. The guys took turns throwing stones on the variations of ice...in some places, the stones were absorbed, as in snow...in others, they bounced and skidded over the surface. The air was fresh and clear and tasted deliciously cold, and we gloried in being outside again.

Who knows when the weather will permit our next excursion together like this? Our time to just be us, without a schedule to keep, is so fleeting and precious. Today was a special gift, and I plan to savor the memory of it.

The Blue Butterfly

I just watched a lovely movie, poignant and worth the watch. I'm thinking about using it in a class someday...mulling over the lesson plan ideas. It's called The Blue Butterfly, with William Hurt, Pascale Bussieres and Marc Donato. Based on a true story, it's about a 10-year-old boy with a brain tumor, and his dying wish to see this blue butterfly in the rain forest. I give it the official thumbs up.

Poinsettias

Hey, does anyone know the deal with poinsettias? DH brought home some lovely ones before Christmas, and now one of them has about had it. I'd heard you could keep them in their dormant state, and they'd come back again...something about a brown paper bag??? I could Google it, I guesss, but...

Snow

Wow, yesterday's snow was a shocker. DH and I were in WalMart (yes, I know...supporting the huge conglomerate evil) buying a cool mist humidifier for Little-Sir-3-Year-Old, who's battling croup again...when DH says, "What is that? It can't be snow..."
Looking through their windows/doors, it looked like an intense fog had rolled in...on closer inspection it was a white-out of snow. We hadn't been in there very long, so it must have come and hit us quickly. DH was just about to leave for work, and I was nervous about him driving all the way to Southampton in that. But, just as we turned onto our street, it stopped and the sun was shining! If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it. It was like we were under a snow cloud one minute, and under a cloudless sky the next.
Will wonders never cease...

Getting Healthy

One of my student's mothers told me about stinging nettle (a natural sub. for Sudafed for sinus congestion), and exercises to stimulate my thalmus glad and drain my lymph nodes (can ya tell I'm sounding really nasally and in need of health-tips?) Tonight, DH bought some dried linden flowers & leaves, and made tea. I checked that out on the internet, and it's got lots of medicinal benefits, too.

I'm so tired of flu season. Please tell me exactly what I have to drink/eat/take to finally get all this crap out of my system, out of my house, and have my family and myself sickness free!!! All of our hands are like sandpaper from washing, washing, washing...I've disinfected and bleached every household surface...we've drunk gallons of healthful fluids, enought to float a barge...

Don't get me wrong, I love the particular beauties of winter, especially after a new snowfall, but...
Is it spring yet?

Hello Dear Blog-World...I Yet Live

No, I am not dead, as some may have assumed. Not yet, anyway.

First I couldn't get significant computer time, 'cause I gave DH a web-cam for Christmas so he could see/talk to his family in Europe (free!) It took soooo long to figure out how to do all that...then...

After thinking I'd already published my New Years Day post (which I saw tonight I didn't), I had a string of difficult events hit that required way too much of my attention.

And I'd just been thinking how smoothly the holidays had gone, thanking God, with a sigh of relief.

And then it hit. First, DD got in a car crash driving back to college...totalled out the car she just bought in Sept...her first. Then, came all the stuff to deal with because of it. I feel so bad for her, and wish I had this giant life-sized Rewind button, so I could replay that morning and do it over. Don't drive in heavy rain, wait a little, drive slower, don't take that route...anything, so to not do it that way again. Sigh.

Then came the string of sicknesses...viruses one after the other...the flu...being sick myself, then being Nancy Nurse to the family...if I have to clean up one more puke mess...

Missed too much work because of all this. And I thought life would get back to normal after New Years. Is this normal? I want a do over. Let's go back to Jan. 31st. It was so much more fun than this.

Happy 2007!

With New Year's Day here, and end of the holidays, I am breathing a sigh of relief. Yes, it is nice to have time with family and the visiting guests,a but I'm looking forward to putting away the tree and getting back to normal life. The holidays are not much of a relaxation, like they're supposed to be. As much as I've toned down what I do, there is still so much hustle bustle, and wanting everything to be "just so." I'm content with ordinary, most of the time...ordinary healthy meals, ordinary house decorations, ordinary schedules...may sound dull, but for me, this is comfort.
Now I am ready to go back to the routine. Hallelujah!

Almost Done with Finals!

I am finally done after a particularly loooonnng day. I handed in my last grad school project, took my last long exam...and have only one more oral exam to go tomorrow. I am sooooo done with all this!

I should be focusing on Christmas, but my shopping is almost done, and I don't feel like going all out to decorate...I have pointsettias and a few little things, and that's frankly enough...just the idea of UNdecorating afterwards requires too much energy at this point.

Now, all I want is a nice glass of wine, or some eggnog, a nice book to get lost in (that has NOTHING to do with my university studies!), and q..u..i..e..t...

sigh.

Well, at least I bought the eggnog on the way home.

I haven't blogged much lately, because I was having trouble with this blog. My posts kept not showing up. I see this past one (now over a week old) has finally arrived, so I've decided to try again.

I have discovered a new love. I do not subscribe to the cable conglomerate, and rather borrow videos and DVDs from the library for our down-time relaxation. About a month ago, my library had a new DVD: the British mystery/drama series Rosemary & Thyme. It is wonderful! Each of the DVDs holds 3 episodes...and after the first DVD, I was addicted. I love everything. The opening scene is a bouquet of flowers on time-lapse photography (which I always love!) This becomes a bouquet of rosemary and thyme. All this happens with a background of a beautiful version of "Scarborough Fair" played by John Williams on classical guitar. It is absolutely lovely.

The show is about two middle-aged ladies who are horticultural specialists. They rescue beautiful English gardens that've overgrown and such, and they inevitably stumble onto murders, which they solve, of course.
After the first DVD, I returned it to find (oh joy!) another one! After a few weeks of hard-core university research, I finally got a break and went back to the library to find they'd gotten 2 more! These are as delightful as the first 2.

So...if any of you enjoys Agatha Christie or any of the more recent British crime dramas (can't remember any names...sorry), then this will be right up your alley. I only wish my mom were here to share it with me. She'd have liked it too.

Happy rest-of-December, and may your holiday family happenings be blessed!

Well, it is December. I don't know why, but I get excited when I flip that calendar page from November to December...even when the weather's warmer than it should be. I dislike so much about the overcommercialism of the holidays, but there are still the basic reasons why I love this time of year, anyway.

When I was a little girl, my mother used to get an Advent calendar every year. (Does anyone remember those?) Every day, from Dec. 1st on, I'd open the little window for the day, and she would read to me what it said, and we'd get to see the hidden picture (a star, an angel, one of the animals in the stable.) One year, a German friend gave us one with little chocolates behind every window.

My mother was born on December 25th, and was named Carol in honor of the day. She was almost Noel, but her father was afraid it would be pronounced wrong. It's a funny thing about names. My mother was definitely a Carol, always singing...Noel just didn't suit her.

I think about my mom a lot, especially now. As Little-Sir-3-Year-Old loses his babyness and gets more like a rough and tumble boy, I wish she were here to share it all. She would absolutely adore him. There's so much about my life today that is completely different than when she was here with us. I wish she were here now...healthy and happy.

Yeah...more bittersweet times. Every wonderful thing I experience is saddened by not being able to share it the way I want with the people I want. Every awful thing is lessened a bit by the knowing that my mom didn't have to see it and be hurt by it.

And now it's December. Soon we'll have the first snow of winter, the holidays will rush by, the lull after Jan. 2 will come, and I'll seek opportunities to curl up with a good book on a cold evening.

Now, if only I had a fireplace...