tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67317988568855442502024-03-13T20:19:12.369-07:00Mermaid or Water-Bug...Life, Laughter, and moments of Gracefighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.comBlogger93125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-52631618489385537992015-11-11T15:58:00.001-08:002016-04-04T06:35:33.191-07:00Asfighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-31516421371413363192013-06-06T06:43:00.003-07:002013-06-06T06:43:48.354-07:00I movedAfter so many months of silence in the blogosphere, I decided I needed a fresh start. Visit me at <a href="http://www.fightingmermaid.wordpress.com/">www.fightingmermaid.wordpress.com</a>.<br />
Peace and Love, Kristafighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-56282237918172042502013-01-21T17:09:00.001-08:002013-01-21T17:09:13.602-08:00Weekend<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EBpwJPwhK7g/UP3l6dF2gII/AAAAAAAAAUQ/cQ7BshWcOkI/s1600/Noah+mudsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EBpwJPwhK7g/UP3l6dF2gII/AAAAAAAAAUQ/cQ7BshWcOkI/s320/Noah+mudsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
A wonderful long weekend.<br />
Many hearty laughs when I wore a bowl of chili as a hat thanks to my dog, Henry.<br />
(These laughs were so needed).<br />
Life of Pi, dirt-biking, atv thru the puddles, playing music, reading.<br />
The expert electrician that I am...came to the crazy conclusion that my heater was never broken, and plugged the fan in again (without the bad power strip) and it worked...so we are warm again, and will be cozy tomorrow when winter comes anew.<br />
<br />
Blue dot enjoyed the company of a few other blue dots for Inauguration Day.<br />
Blue dot boy practiced the sleep away for mom's conference, and did not need to call her even once...not once, not even to say "goodnight."<br />
<br />
And that was the best part of all because blue dot boy is so very much loved, and blue dot mom wants him to be fearless-or at least know his own courage. (Fearlessness...of all the things my parents did for me... this was, <i>by far</i>, the best).<br />
Yes. I really was going to take apart the gas appliance and sort out how I could fix it with a few cheap replacement parts. Until the electrical epiphany, I really did think the motor had burned out. We'd seen sparks when it blew the whole circuit and the lights went out.<br />
It was a wonderful weekend.<br />
Far too short.<br />
<br />
<br />fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-86195619012991373752013-01-05T12:09:00.000-08:002013-01-05T12:09:03.783-08:00Happy<div style="text-align: center;">
I am happy.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Life is beautiful and amazing.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The sun is out.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The days are getting longer and summer is coming </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(said wearing 550 down over a sweater in front of the fire with a smile on my face).</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Happy feels right.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's easy and warm, and sleepy and tender and just crazy enough.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm lucky.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And now the smoke alarm calls.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Noah is making lunch </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(hot dogs wrapped with tortillas) </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
as I miss Philadelphia.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
XO, Krista</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-53331817050532165592012-12-21T21:51:00.002-08:002012-12-21T22:01:58.223-08:00Mama said there'd be days like this...I woke up at 4:30 thanks to Henry chasing Alice across the bed. Henry loves cats. He loves to lick them, lives for it I think, but at 4:30 AM when the cat is snuggled in the crook of my neck it isn't fun. And when he wakes up Ariel who is also on the bed and who is not a morning dog, it is twice as much not fun.<br />
<br />
We had an ADD day today, my boy and I. Up early but managed to miss the bus. Got half-way to school and realized that we did not have Noah's binder. The binder is not so much a binder as it is a brief case-a 4 inch enclosed D-ring notebook that contains all his work for math, english/lit, and civics. We had to go back to get it. He still made it to school on time.<br />
<br />
I went to feed the animals which was supposed to be quick, but I got attacked by the punk rock rooster again. I nearly killed it with the rake I held to defend myself, but as I prepared to strike, I realized that I would only hurt him and would get stuck caring for an injured bird that I hate (so on my list is sharpening the hoe, and next time it will be off with his head).<br />
<br />
At work I realized that I had forgotten to pick up my insulin the day before, so I accomplished that task, only to leave it inside the work refrigerator when it was time to go. I also left my phone charger and even went back for that, still forgetting the insulin in the fridge.<br />
<br />
When I got home, Noah and I took Alice to get her stitches out since we didn't want to spend Saturday morning at the vet. I forgot that Ariel needs a vaccine update, so we will be doing the vet thing again tomorrow anyways. Of course I asked about hours on Monday, but WOW-who forgot to tell me that Monday is Christmas Eve? My family celebrates together on Christmas eve at Mom and Stuart's and my brother and his family come, so there isn't a chance we can do Ariel's vaccines then, but Gloucester Veterinary Clinic is open 9-12 if anyone else needs them.<br />
<br />
After Alice got her stitches out, Noah and I went to the office to get my insulin, so I am safe for the next month. On the way home, I remembered that I took the stitches out myself the last time we had cats spayed, so we didn't really need the trip at all (but they didn't charge and I didn't end up bleeding--so a good thing overall). <br />
<br />
Noah recently decided he'd rather not take his medication for ADD. He says that school is more fun without it, and I am sure he is correct. I haven't told his teachers yet, but some of them know already. He still managed a 100 on the science test on genetics, so I guess it is hit and miss. Science and Civics, Hit. English and Pre-Algebra, Miss. He also lost homework for the first time ever. Pre-Algebra. His teacher gave him a reprieve.<br />
<br />
I've been known to describe my house as ADDX2. One of us needs medication or we just won't survive, so I guess it is time to talk to Dr. Conley about it (if I can remember to schedule an appointment, and even then, we've been meaning to have that discussion about my ADD for years).<br />
<br />
In the middle of this wacky day, my boy blew me a kiss as I dropped him off at school and I got to celebrate Christmas with coworkers at our annual office lunch. My tiramisu was a hit. I interviewed 5 teens for the camp counselor positions, and loved them all. One of them had been a first time camper the first year I directed camp. I remember walking the basketball court with him late at night. Camp wasn't what he expected. He wanted to leave. He reminded me so much of Noah. He made me smile. His mom apologized profusely for the late night calls and shenanigans, but I'd do it again in a heart beat. When he got the question today about how he deals with challenges--well, he told me all about Concerta (picture the biggest smile ever...he'd already told me that his greatest weakness was lack of focus). He otherwise had a great interview, and I'm excited that he will be at camp again. I'll have to remember to ask Dr. Conley about Concerta.<br />
<br />
Noah and I ended the day with <i>A Christmas Carol</i> and popcorn, and the two lovable dogs snuggled with us on the sofa. Henry's version of snuggle means he sleeps over top of you and growls when you move.fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-88904342811652070192012-12-21T13:28:00.002-08:002012-12-21T13:28:58.239-08:00Happy FridayChristmas is coming, the goose is getting fat, please put a penny in the old man's hat...another tune that plays in my head thanks to Grandma Carmen. Her "Puttin' on the Ritz" singing turtle should have arrived by now, and is in all probability driving everyone crazy because she will forget she just turned it on as soon as it stops singing. Noah picked it out. I'm blameless.<br />
I already got my Christmas present. My boy blew me a kiss as he walked into school this morning, apparently forgetting for a moment all rules of tween decorum. I'm not sure which warmed my heart more-the kiss, or the nervous expression on his face as he looked around to make sure no one had seen. Twelve year old boys are all wonder and beautiful soul. I don't really care if he ever cleans his room, he's got my heart forever.<br />
This year by a series of fortunate events I get to have Christmas dinner with my Noah. We are looking forward to empanadas and an evening of good music and movies and fun. He may even teach me a few chords on the guitar. <br />
And I am off for 17 days. It is starting to feel a lot like Christmas...<br />
<br />
Merry Christmas and Peace to All, K<br />
<br />
fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-37452225474543732282012-12-05T17:58:00.000-08:002012-12-05T17:58:18.492-08:00On trampolines and ladders and aha, hmmmm...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yPuc10TN5-Q/Tsrfqi3Fz5I/AAAAAAAAALk/XsRfJL_NaUg/s1600/DSC_0304.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yPuc10TN5-Q/Tsrfqi3Fz5I/AAAAAAAAALk/XsRfJL_NaUg/s320/DSC_0304.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
I had an "aha" moment today on my may to work (which was longer than usual as I had a meeting to attend in Jamestown). As a rule, I'm not too fond of those kind of moments. Fortunately, they usually don't arrive during the commute...which is just barely long enough for me to remember to turn on NPR or blast whatever cd comes pre-loaded by my 12 year old aspiring rock-star. But it came nonetheless, unheralded by morning chaos or personal drama. It was an "aha" moment: <i><b>I am the trampoline</b></i>.<br />
<br />
Not just any run-of-the-mill trampoline... I am the <i><b>world's largest invisible trampoline</b></i>--the trampoline--The very same one I've been struggling to build for Noah while I juggle the simultaneous construction of the ladder to the stars (and I'll deal with that another day, maybe). The trampoline--you know his "back bounce from", his "not get hurt from"... Aha, hmmmm.......<br />
<br />
Aha, hmmmm = I've been giving too much attention to constructing the <i><b>world's largest invisible trampoline!</b></i><br />
Aha, hmmmm = The trampoline has more to do with me, than it ever did the boy (who really only needs the regular-old-me trampoline and not something extra-bouncy and invisible).<br />
Aha, hmmmm = That big, extra fancy, invisible trampoline might actually discourage the climb up the ladder. It grounds him, rather than letting him soar...and it does this with an admission price of $ome mental anguish on both our parts.<br />
<br />
Well, blow me away and bounce me up to the stars! What a bunch of foolishness even a fairly sane parent can be.<br />
<br />
One of the things that I love most about by own parents is that they instilled a sense of fearlessness in me. I'm not afraid to take risks. I always assume that I will survive. I pretty much think I can do just about anything once I figure out what that anything requires. It's a good trait, and one I hope to pass along.<br />
<br />
I love that kid of mine. Jesses off, baby. Fly.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-4167981686787208452012-11-25T20:27:00.000-08:002012-11-25T20:42:22.017-08:00On trust and a new day<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G66OWkSkb58/Tx9MPokVYUI/AAAAAAAAAM4/4VdIQWOSFVc/s1600/DSC_0073+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G66OWkSkb58/Tx9MPokVYUI/AAAAAAAAAM4/4VdIQWOSFVc/s320/DSC_0073+%25282%2529.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not the old Pecan, but one of my favorite trees on the farm<br />
<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
“Deciding whether or not to trust a person is like deciding whether or not to climb a tree because you might get a wonderful view from the highest branch or you might simply get covered in sap and for this reason many people choose to spend their time alone and indoors where it is harder to get a splinter.” -Lemony Snicket, The Penultimate Peril<br />
<br />
Trust shouldn't be a fragile butterfly wing, but sometimes it's exactly that. Broken butterfly wings don't mend, they don't fly, they certainly can't soar. I've found myself on the un-trusted side of the trust equation for a long while now. It hasn't much mattered what I've said- that I didn't move the coffee pot in the middle of the night, that I hadn't been unfaithful-it simply didn't matter because the other half just would not believe me. It hurt. It made me feel crazy. It wore me down emotionally. It sapped all my brain cells.<i> Seriously, all of them</i>. And he's still part of my heart, and I guess that will ache for awhile. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So... tomorrow I begin a new chapter in my life. One that I hope is filled with more reason than speculation. One that is full of more joy and more grace than the one before. There will be a part of me that will wish he had chosen to climb the tree in hopes of the wonderful view, but life isn't static. It moves forward. Noah will get lessons in tree climbing (along with all those music lessons he loves). We will become the crazed tree climbers of North together. When you see us up in the old Pecan, be sure to wave... or at least smile and know that we are enjoying the view. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Peace and Love, </div>
<div>
Krista</div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-87878923702961319072012-11-21T08:05:00.001-08:002012-11-21T08:05:17.022-08:00Happy Thanksgiving!I have so much for which I'm thankful. Sometimes when life gets tough it is important to remind myself. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wcNR78g5uZU/TrfGbNPsMoI/AAAAAAAAALE/tOLhS23LG_0/s1600/DSC_0145.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wcNR78g5uZU/TrfGbNPsMoI/AAAAAAAAALE/tOLhS23LG_0/s320/DSC_0145.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I so love this boy!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I have a great kid. I lucked out with wonderful parents. I have a brother and sisters who inspire me, laugh with me, and pull me out of the funk when I crawl into that dark place. I have great friends. I work with great people. I get to spend time with some amazing kids.<br />
<br />
The dysfunctional family Thanksgiving actually functions for me. I am going to my mom's. Although there is always the scare of food poisoning there, it's always fun with the Flanagan/Gustafson crew. That was not an insult to anyone's cooking prowess...Some will know what it means. Anyhoo, Noah will get picked up there by his Dad and he'll do Thanksgiving with Steve and Grandma JoAnna. Grandpa Jim is sailing Scrimshaw south. At 4:15 Noah and I will meet back at the house for the Redskins/Cowboys game. Yay!! And we will get to watch it in the living room because the Dish man is coming today.<br />
<br />
On Sunday I am cooking a turkey and doing my own version of Thanksgiving for old Tom across the street's birthday. He will be 84 years old. He doesn't know he's coming for dinner yet, and I suppose Noah and I should walk over and make the invite this afternoon.<br />
<br />
Love to all, and Happy Thanksgiving! -K<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-20785849817902248332012-10-25T18:43:00.001-07:002012-10-25T18:57:12.726-07:00A short answer to a simple question<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I am a woman.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe in a woman’s right to choose.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe she should have access to contraception
and other affordable health services.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe in her right to earn the same wage as her
male counterpart.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe she is strong, and valuable, and the most
ardent promoter of peace. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe that the Violence Against Women Act should
have been an easy pass.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe that rape is rape, no matter how it’s
spun.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe that trickle down economics never worked
for anyone except for those at the top.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe that ending poverty is a moral obligation.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe that no one should go hungry and that no
child should be homeless.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe that the voice of people in government
should be more powerful than money.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe in the fundamental dignity and worth of
all Americans.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe that while one’s faith might inform
politics, that it should never be used to deny rights to different groups of
citizens based on certain interpretations of a certain book.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe we are our brothers and our sisters
keepers.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe that we love whom we love and that our
rights as lovers, whether married or single, should never hinge on whether we
love as a man and a woman or as a woman and a woman or as a man and a man.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe in the value of public education.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe in our teachers.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe in equal access to higher education.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe in Dreamers and in their promise and
potential.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe that supporting our troops means keeping
them out of harm’s way whenever possible and providing jobs and benefits and
decent pay for all who put their lives on the line.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe that veterans should not be homeless.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe that war is seldom an answer. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe that clean energy is the only solution to
long-term sustainability. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe we owe it to the planet to keep Mother
Earth solvent.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I am diabetic.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe in affordable health care.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe that the elderly should have easy access
to healthcare without the burden of trying to stretch a voucher.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I know what Medicaid means for mothers with sick
children and no way of covering hundreds of thousands in hospital bills.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I believe that a great America is one that values
the contributions of all its citizens and one that creates space for all to
flourish.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because I love my son, and I want him to grow up in a world
of hope and promise, with access to healthcare and education, in one just a
little bit kinder and a whole lot cleaner.</div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Because all of that apparently makes me a bleeding
heart liberal, I will cast my vote for President Obama as I did four years ago.</span>fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-6359213939141341542012-10-03T15:03:00.001-07:002012-10-03T17:00:43.707-07:005 things that made me smile thru the first half of the week<div><p>1. Laughter with friends.<br>
2. Noah yelling "I love you" as he boarded the bus.<br>
3. An update from my Nigerian sister (a woman I am helping thru women for women international). She is learning about women's rights during her third quarter of the program.<br>
4. A kid today said that our engineering lesson was more fun than recess (it was a lot messier too).<br>
5. A not so subtle reminder to embrace the present and live loved. Thank you. I needed that.<br>
6. A message from someone who makes me smile. <br>
</p>
<br/><img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-ZO0b1JrxK9k/UGy27gTB9dI/AAAAAAAAATI/Tw9oeMzZlKA/IMG_20120606_204527.png' /></div>fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-3122886478170779902012-09-13T06:58:00.000-07:002012-09-13T06:58:25.736-07:00World on a string, My grams and Alzheimer's<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_I8qvogVSiY/UFHmKwVA0RI/AAAAAAAAAS0/XKFtAaq9v_8/s1600/Grandma+Carmen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_I8qvogVSiY/UFHmKwVA0RI/AAAAAAAAAS0/XKFtAaq9v_8/s320/Grandma+Carmen.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">“You're so
beautiful," said Alice. "I'm afraid of looking at you and not knowing
who you are."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I think that even if you don't know who
I am someday, you'll still know that I love you."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"What if I see you, and I don't know that
you're my daughter, and I don't know that you love me?"</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Then, I'll tell you that I do, and
you'll believe me.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">―</span><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"> Lisa
Genova, Still Alice</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I just
recently spent a week with my grandma out in Nebraska. She is 94. She’s been a
real crackerjack all my life. I hate what Alzheimer’s is putting her
through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told her I loved her so many
times during that week, it might have seemed like I was the one with neurons firing
improperly. Sometimes Gramma’s gaze was far off, but sometimes she would look <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>into me and say “I love you too… and I really
mean it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve never felt anything but
love from my grams, and I still feel it.</span><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Sometimes beautiful
Carmen struggled to get the right words out, and when they made no sense my
heart sank for her. Many times I discovered that I was biting my lip to keep
tears at bay. I was determined not to cry. This is so much worse for her than
me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Changing and bathing and bathroom
duties compromised her dignity and clearly caused her stress. She’d tell me I’d
lost my gold star as I tried to help quickly and gently. Sometimes “no gold
star” became “leave me alone, asshole” and inside I’d smile <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Yay, Grams, crystal clear, all the words
where they should be</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">My grandma loves
music. Noah played one of her favorites. Sinatra. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><em>I’ve got the
world on a string</em></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><em>I’m sitting
on a rainbow</em></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><em>Got the
string around my finger</em></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><em>What a
world, what a life – I’m in love<o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">When Noah
was just a babe, Gram would sing that song to him and when he became a talker,
he’d sing it back—in person, on the phone. It was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">their</i> song. So much time had passed since I’d heard it, and then
there they were sitting on the sofa together, Noah with his computer playing
the song for her on itunes and she’s swaying with the melody, a smile across
her face. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"> I miss Gramma.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I miss Carmen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On Saturday Noah and I have an amazing
opportunity to walk for an Alzheimer’s cure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Check out the link<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>below if you
are so inclined.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p> </o:p></span><br />
<em>L</em><span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><em>ife’s a</em>
<em>wonderful thing<o:p></o:p></em></span><br />
<em>
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">As long as I
hold the string</span></em><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><em>I’d be a
silly so-and-so</em></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><em>If I should
ever let her go<o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
<a href="http://act.alz.org/site/TR/Walk/VA-GreaterRichmond?px=6982109&pg=personal&fr_id=1771">Link to Alzheimer's Walk</a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-10720281101423891472012-08-16T05:05:00.000-07:002012-08-16T05:05:14.282-07:00Memory and Carmen Castillo<em>Another recycled blog...</em><br />
<em>Noah and I are leaving Sat/Sun to fly out to visit my gram. He is going to give her his old ipod loaded with the Ricky Martin and other Latino music she so enjoys along with some of the Big Band music from yester-year. He's a good egg, my boy.</em> <br />
<br />
Memory.<br />
Clickety-clack went her high-heels along the sidewalk as I struggled to keep up, making sure I didn't step on a crack. Where were we? In the dusty book of days past, on some nearly forgotten shelf in my brain, are the faintest memories of shopping with my grandmother in Washington, D.C. I hear the noise of cars passing and feel my arms swinging, but the visual image is just the cement sidewalk-- my feet skipping over the cracks to avoid breaking my mother's back-- and Gramma's red heels and the pleated hemline of her skirt that was just at the knee. And clickety-clack, I had to keep up, and where are we going? but my whole movie has been edited out... except for that one scene. Clickety-clack.<br />
<br />
I hate not being able to recall. I know she feels the same. I've heard her say it: "Oh, I'm so stupid, I can't remember the word." My grandmother has been alot of things; stupid was never one of them. And this just isn't the script she'd have written for the last scenes of her movie.<br />
<br />
My brother just gave me the sweetest present via ancestry.com:<br />
<div style="border: currentColor;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ytn7PW2jyLw/TG3JSMgm_0I/AAAAAAAAAGY/jyPnuCSZHao/s1600/carmenboatdoc+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="120" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ytn7PW2jyLw/TG3JSMgm_0I/AAAAAAAAAGY/jyPnuCSZHao/s400/carmenboatdoc+(2).jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="border: currentColor;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border: currentColor;">
The first tangible evidence of the Bluefields story. Amazing. So they left Bluefields, Nicaragua aboard the Olancho on August 29, 1923 and arrived in New York on September 5. My grandmother was five, and she and Volberg (the spelling is different than I've seen elsewhere) would live at 578 Academy St, NY, NY. </div>
<br />
According to Gramma the apartment was across the street from a fire department. She had a mischevous side, and apparently burned a wax doll. When smoke billowed out the window, they didn't have far to come. That, and the firemen looked after her a bit as she was a latch-key kid. Her mom worked as an accountant in the fashion district. Gramma says her mom would give her money to attend piano lessons after-school, but it was just enough for pie and a soda at the local diner, so that is where she would go. Apparently it worked out fine until recital time. <br />
<br />
My grandmother never sat for a single piano lesson...but as a kid I would marvel at how she could sit at our old piano and peck out a tune. She loved music, still does. We used to all dance with her in her living room when we visited. She has crazy stories of driving all night with my grandad to dance and listen to great music in Chicago back in the 40s. One of them involves dancing through a drummer and landing in a drum.<br />
<br />
Well, I have rambled on through this blog tonight, and that was never my intention. Kurt's happy surprise in the middle blew the melancholy memories away, and I am dancing with my gram to "La Vida Loca."<br />
<br />
Peace and Love, Kristafighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-9234454055489956412012-08-14T08:20:00.001-07:002012-08-14T08:20:07.356-07:00High Tide or Low Tide<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KM9_9Wyc8G4/UCpnJnbOamI/AAAAAAAAASU/Q3ag9kc_iek/s1600/Noahandkidsboogieboard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KM9_9Wyc8G4/UCpnJnbOamI/AAAAAAAAASU/Q3ag9kc_iek/s320/Noahandkidsboogieboard.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
A short respite from reality. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Feeling the cool water over my feet and the sand rushing beneath them on a receding wave.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Laughing with Harley. Healing hearts.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Watching Noah find his groove.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Staying up late and watching spectacular shooting stars.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Surviving a little too much of the red wine and skipping over snakes.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Until next time. Big hugs, my friend.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=34tt9D84Gm0&feature=related">Love ya, Harley, High Tide or Low tide. :) (Bob Marley)</a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iU_6uf5ZLxw/UCpnONrF46I/AAAAAAAAASc/JKPS8HwbC6E/s1600/noah+ridingwave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iU_6uf5ZLxw/UCpnONrF46I/AAAAAAAAASc/JKPS8HwbC6E/s320/noah+ridingwave.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-43234506722377072582012-08-10T13:32:00.000-07:002012-08-10T17:15:18.380-07:00I'm driving to the beach tomorrow... to breathe.<br />
Noah will be my co-pilot. He is going to learn to use an old fashioned map.<br />
We will go to the beach and dream, and read.<br />
In the evening we will hang out with an old friend.<br />
We will put our feet in the sand, and smile at the stars or clouds which ever they may be.<br />
We will look out for the meteor shower.<br />
We will dream.<br />
I will breathe and laugh with Harley about how funny life is. <br />
She will laugh me back to life. We will all laugh together.<br />
And then my boy and I might learn to surf...and that is the funniest thing ever.<br />
Much love and happy wishes for the weekend<br />
Peace and Love, Kfighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-25704072353835479252012-08-09T11:28:00.003-07:002012-08-09T11:32:58.034-07:00Not Forgetting.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L8kTm5ZwObw/TGx3lGK0zFI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/1XflKyvWiSU/s1600/carmen+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L8kTm5ZwObw/TGx3lGK0zFI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/1XflKyvWiSU/s320/carmen+003.jpg" width="207" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carmen Castillo, My grandma<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
What follows is an old blog...I'm not really up to the emotional task of writing all of what I am feeling these days. Life has been a little crazy. If you had been to the poetry reading at Gloucester Arts on Main last week, you'd know what I mean. Poetry is some crazy sport. I recently heard one in which a husband declared his life with the wife is worse than being hooked on heroin. Yeah, it was a surprise for me too. I won't be attending any more of those. But this is a poem of a different sort. My gramm's favorite. Noah and I cancelled our vacation plans. We are flying out to Nebraska. My grandma isn't doing well. I want to hold her hand one more time. Alzheimers sucks even more than men.<br />
<br />
"Sea-Fever" <br />
I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,<br />
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,<br />
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,<br />
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.<br />
<br />
I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide<br />
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;<br />
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,<br />
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.<br />
<br />
I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,<br />
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;<br />
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover<br />
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.<br />
John Masefield (1878-1967)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
One of my grandmother's favorite poems. She used to recite it all the time, along with the Preamble to the Constitution and Lincoln's Gettysburg Address. My grandmother has Alzheimer's. She's <strike>92</strike> 94. I have been thinking about her alot lately because I really miss her and I wish I hadn't waited so long to ask the questions about her years in Nicaragua and her father, Domingo Castillo, who took her there in the mid-twenties. I have only pieces of the story, Bluefields, the kidnapping (if you call it that), a godfather that was the President of Nicaragua at the time, and the story of a mother who travelled far to retrieve her daughter, contracted malaria, and eventually died in a mental hospital in New York. <br />
<br />
For family that might read this, that is the story I got...if you heard a different version feel free to chime in. I'm going on a hunt for old photos and will scan them in tomorrow, but for awhile at least my blog will be about Gramma. She was the most enjoyable travel partner I ever had, having come out to visit me in both Greece and Italy, and I just really miss her humor. Yes, even hearing "Sea Fever" over and over. And, hey, I wouldn't know the Preamble without her. I'm going to call her tonight, but she never stays on the phone for long...I just need to say "I love you, Gramma."<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-30676337288854454822012-08-04T20:01:00.001-07:002012-08-04T20:01:56.612-07:00Men suck<div><p>True story.<br>
Shortest blog ever.</p>
</div>fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-42650159167692339372012-07-30T13:10:00.002-07:002012-07-30T13:10:59.109-07:00Vacation...Please come soon.Vacation...a little more planned today than yesterday...it incorporates fun and learning and a whole lot of driving and camping. Stop one: Frank Lloyd Wright's Falling Water House. I've never seen it in person and Noah studied FLW in school this year, but never saw so much as a picture until I realized that he hadn't and then I brought out my FLW books from the old art history gig and he got to see it all...in 2D...which is not good enough. Next Stop: Ohiopyle State Park for camping and hiking and white water rafting. Noah wants to do a class III/IV river. I think he is nuts. Mostly, I'd be afraid he would fall out, so I am hoping for class II/III or at least a solid III. From there we go to Niagara Falls and camping somewhere in Ontario. And then we go to Toronto to visit the Royal Ontario Museum (while still camping somewhere in Ontario). In Toronto after the museum, we will be scoping out music stores and musicians' exchanges for the next keyboard (he has saved up, but I won't let him buy another without playing it first...so no online monkey business). Afterwards we will meander home through Ithaca (hope to visit my sister, Tara who doesn't know that this is even a remote possibility yet, and do some waterfall hikes) and then apple picking somewhere and who knows what else. I am no good at long term planning, but the first few days sound good.<br />
<br />
Provisions for the trip are evolving. Noah talked me into ordering a self inflating double high queen mattress for our tent. As kids we put our sleeping bags on the ground, so this kind of feels dirty to me... not to mention ridiculous in an emergency evacuation of the tent (whether it be due to critter or lightening). We have a tent that Tambi gave us (with slashes that need to be duct-taped as a critter apparently tried to get in just a few minutes after we evacuated during the last backyard camp-out) and a camp stove (also a gift from IBMAT) so we are getting there. I made Noah put back the $9 collapsable bowls the last time we were shopping, but might invest in a mess kit for him. We will be cooking Thai Ramen (Ramen with added peanutbutter and curry powder, my personal fav), pancakes, and who knows what else. We are looking forward to Indian food at Niagara as my brother says that is all you can get there and it happens to be some of our favorite! Yippee!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-20483009745265289902012-07-17T19:43:00.001-07:002012-07-17T19:45:55.921-07:00Turtle rescuer<div><p>Noah has been spotting turtles left and right. I've been doing some crazy driving so he can hop out and save a turtle from the road. Sometimes we have to just cross our fingers and hope the little guy is still in one piece when traffic clears or when we' ve made a long trip back. I've been known to brake for pine cones so a new pair of glasses might be in order. </p>
<p>Noah and I are still pondering vacation. We will be heading out third week on August. Still no idea where we'll end up. North, South...even looked up airfare to Nicaragua. Any good ideas welcome.</p>
<br/><img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/-5HAiFKKK0z8/UAYi4gj5qFI/AAAAAAAAASE/A2-OgoVLeAQ/IMG_20120714_164636.png' /></div>fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-80402974474307042272012-07-03T19:46:00.001-07:002012-07-03T19:46:25.842-07:00<div><p>I so love this kid!</p>
<br/><img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Tk4uc3-mi8U/T_OudkHwBoI/AAAAAAAAARo/u0AyKvEgWNs/IMG_20120531_204024.png' /><br/><img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/-UicG2GiXfuk/T_Ouev20u1I/AAAAAAAAARw/DvHSeu5lezY/IMG_20120606_204527.png' /><br/><img src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/-yheCmPmkrbg/T_Ouf3-OxxI/AAAAAAAAAR4/k3kHZyAXUjI/IMAG0887.png' /></div>fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-85948940654150520912012-06-21T08:51:00.000-07:002012-06-21T08:51:50.563-07:00Practicing resurrection<br />
<center>
</center><center class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UMZ2e3mci4c/TrfFf_a9LPI/AAAAAAAAAKk/OvFdJSjRKEo/s1600/DSC_0107.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UMZ2e3mci4c/TrfFf_a9LPI/AAAAAAAAAKk/OvFdJSjRKEo/s320/DSC_0107.JPG" width="320" /></a></center><center class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </center><center class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">One of my favorite pieces...Wendell Berry.</center><center class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I am not yet up to writing/sharing. :( </center><center class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Maybe soon. I'm trying. </center><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>
</em></span><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>Love the quick
profit, the annual raise,<br />
vacation with pay. Want more<br />
of everything ready-made. Be afraid<br />
to know your neighbors and to die.<br />
And you will have a window in your head.<br />
Not even your future will be a mystery</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>any more. Your mind will be punched in a card<br />
and shut away in a little drawer.<br />
<br />
When they want you to buy something<br />
they will call you. When they want you<br />
to die for profit they will let you know.<br />
So, friends, every day do something<br />
that won’t compute. Love the Lord.<br />
Love the world. Work for nothing.<br />
Take all that you have and be poor.<br />
Love someone who does not deserve it.<br />
<br />
Denounce the government and embrace<br />
the flag. Hope to live in that free<br />
republic for which it stands.<br />
Give your approval to all you cannot<br />
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man<br />
has not encountered he has not destroyed.<br />
<br />
Ask the questions that have no</em></span> <span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>answers.<br />
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.<br />
Say that your main crop is the forest<br />
that you did not plant,<br />
that you will not live to harvest.<br />
<br />
Say that the leaves are harvested<br />
when they have rotted into the mold.<br />
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.<br />
Put your faith in the two inches of humus<br />
that will build under the trees<br />
every thousand years.<br />
<br />
Listen to carrion — put your ear<br />
close, and hear the faint chattering</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em>of the songs that are to come.<br />
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.<br />
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful<br />
though you have considered all the facts.<br />
So long as women do not go cheap<br />
for power, please women more than men.<br />
<br />
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy<br />
a woman satisfied to bear a child?<br />
Will this disturb the sleep<br />
of a woman near to giving birth?<br />
<br />
Go with your love to the fields.<br />
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head<br />
in her lap. Swear allegiance<br />
to what is nighest your thoughts.<br />
<br />
As soon as the generals and the politicos<br />
can predict the motions of your mind,<br />
lose it. Leave it as a sign<br />
to mark the false trail, the way<br />
you didn’t go.<br />
<br />
Be like the fox<br />
who makes more tracks than necessary,<br />
some in the wrong direction.<br />
Practice resurrection.</em></span>
</div>
</div>
<dd> </dd><dd><br /> </dd>fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-84925401995085248232012-05-07T17:01:00.001-07:002012-05-07T17:01:49.961-07:00The curious incident of the snake at dinner time<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sunday </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
5:45 PM. The gas oven is turned on to preheat dinner rolls.
Henry ate the last pack before it even thawed so getting this far tonight is a
feat all by itself. Spaghetti marinara, steamed broccoli, dinner rolls…yum. And
we didn’t even have water in the morning as the pump had blown. David installed
a new pump. I replaced the leaky kitchen faucet. Life is good.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
5:50 PM. Something smells like a cook-out, but since there
isn’t one, I ignore it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
5:51 PM. BLEEP. The smoke alarm goes off. I don’t see any
smoke. The alarm stops quickly. Just a fluke, I think. (The last fluky thing
that struck me was the height restriction bar at the Hampton parking garage…it
wasn’t a fluke. You can’t get in there without a lot of bang, bump, and bang if
you drive a Matrix with a vertical kayak rack).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
5:53 PM Henry starts barking and Abbey starts screeching.
They seem to will the smoke alarm into fighting mode.
BLEEP.BLEEP.BLEEP.BLEEP.BLEEP.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
5:54 PM Black smoke from the fantasy cookout spills out of
the oven. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP. Henry is yelping, Abbey is about
to bust my eardrums. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP. I yell for Noah to take Abbey outside. Henry
is already on the porch. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
5:54.30 PM Fearing a meltdown... BLEEP. BLEEP.BLEEP.BLEEP...I pull the plug on
BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP the oven and turn everything off (never mind that I have a
gas oven and did not think to turn the gas off at the valve). BLEEP BLEEP
BLEEP. I can hardly concentrate. Henry is barking and Abbey is screeching from
the porch and Ariel is barking… BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP and that alarm!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
5:55 PM I stand on the counter top to BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP reach the smoke alarm. BLEEP. BLEEP BLEEP
BLEEP. My ears are killing me. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP It won’t turn off. Through the
smoke I begin to decipher that the fantasy cookout has been ruined…burned…it’s
a stench. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
5:56 PM Having given up on finding an off button BLEEP BLEEP
BLEEP or opening the battery compartment, BLEEP BLEEP I land a heavy punch to
the alarm with my fist. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
5:56:30 PM Momentary peace. I manage to ignore the alarm. As
much peace as you can have in a house filled with smoke, an alarm blaring with
two dogs in an asynchronous uproar, a parrot screeching on the front porch,
and a kid wanting to know what I did to dinner.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
5:57 PM Like superwoman, I leap from the counter and the
tips of my fingers brush against the switch for the ceiling fan. Smoke swirls
around my head in clouds as if I am the eye of the hurricane as I open the
oven. More black smoke billows out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
5:58 PM With the smoke lifting, I peer into the oven. I
think I see a snake coming out of the space where there would have been flame.
It’s not moving. BLEEP. BLEEP.BLEEP. No, it must be a large piece of insulated
wire. BLEEP. BLEEP. BLEEP. The kind with the woven metal covering.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
5:58:15 PM Wait, I think the wire has a mouth. BLEEP BLEEP
BLEEP BLEEP. Dogs barking. Abbey making noise.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
5:58:30 PM No. It’s a wire, but it is a gas oven and there
shouldn’t be any big wire. BLEEP BLEEP Dogs still barking.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
5:58:45 PM Snake<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
5:59 PM Wire BLEEP. BLEEP.BLEEP<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
6:00 PM I climb up on the counter again and deliver the
fatal blow to the smoke alarm.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
6:00 -6:05 PM (spent time looking for corkscrew and finally
found one on Noah’s pocket knife… wine uncorked around 6:05)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
6:06 PM Epiphany: this is what husbands are for. I’m not a
total weeny, but I'm no good with dead animals, and really when someone else can deal with this, why not share the
joy? I call David to find out when he will be back at the house. Why…Because
there is a problem I need you to fix. What’s up? You wouldn’t believe me if I
told you. C’mon. Okay, so I think I cooked a black snake and I need you to get
it out of the oven so I can bake the dinner rolls.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
6:06-6:15ish. I enjoy a nice Merlot while watching the oven
like a hawk. The dead snake does not move. Noah calls his grandma to share the
news.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
6:15 PM David dons special chemical gloves and a head lamp
to handle the snake removal which he undertakes with needle-nosed pliers. At
first only the top half comes out--the head half. The snake is too fat to pull the bottom half
through the opening. Photo op with the head-end.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
6:20 PM David dismantles the lower shielding plate on the
oven and removes the tail end of the snake. It is quite charred. All in all,
probably a 4 footer.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aVwQ0TnPGpo/T6hhBSHoNDI/AAAAAAAAARI/hC92njCe_a8/s1600/Davidandsnake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aVwQ0TnPGpo/T6hhBSHoNDI/AAAAAAAAARI/hC92njCe_a8/s320/Davidandsnake.jpg" width="191" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
6:21 PM This is where David and I really differ. <i>He cleans
the oven before putting everything back together</i>. I fret about putting
chemicals (bleach) into the oven. Had I to do it all on my own: No gloves. No head lamp. No
pliers (just a fork). No clean-up with bleach. I would have gotten the bottom
half out, but then I would have just put everything back together and turned
the oven back on for the dinner rolls. I would claim that burn-off would
sterilize everything. In between all of that would have been the dry heaves and near fainting which happen when I am in the vicinity of a dead animal. It is heart breaking to think I murdered that snake. I would have been much happier to have had to remove a live one. Anyway, sometimes I really do appreciate our differences-David's and mine. Mental note to self: Picky-ness should not
always carry a negative connotation. It can be a good thing, too.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dinner was great. We did not eat snake. I’ve heard it tastes
like chicken, but I know it smells like a
burger cook-out. Maybe next time? Happy baking everyone. It's summer time and the snakes are coming for dinner.<o:p></o:p></div>fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-57818090539205189952012-04-10T22:42:00.001-07:002012-04-10T22:45:38.849-07:00Unraveled seeks adventure<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZWJ-xvqSi8Q/TrfF4uXMLCI/AAAAAAAAAK0/eZeJyf-WFJk/s1600/DSC_0120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZWJ-xvqSi8Q/TrfF4uXMLCI/AAAAAAAAAK0/eZeJyf-WFJk/s320/DSC_0120.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
“I feel too much. That's what's going on.' 'Do you think one can feel too much? Or just feel in the wrong ways?' 'My insides don't match up with my outsides.' 'Do anyone's insides and outsides match up?' 'I don't know. I'm only me.' 'Maybe that's what a person's personality is: the difference between the inside and outside.' 'But it's worse for me.' 'I wonder if everyone thinks it's worse for him.' 'Probably. But it really is worse for me.” -Jonathan Safran Foer<br />
<br />
hmm...It's been rough lately. I'm coming unraveled. I think too much. I feel too deeply. I lose myself in the rise of the moon. I worry about a woman I am trying to help who lives thousands of miles away, and the only thing I know for sure is that we do gaze upon that same big moon. I wonder what she sees in it.<br />
<br />
Then there's politics...and I still cant get (NO, I am not going there)<br />
And, worse, religion... I'm still a fan of religion free Jesus...even if that isn't so popular...or especially because of that. I don't know. Who am I?<br />
And messed up in politics and religion are so many of the things that concern me--homelessness, genocide, women's rights, poverty, education... STOP<br />
<br />
I'm taking two days off at the end of the week to spend a long weekend with Noah. It seems so far off, but it isn't. I know that, but I can't feel it. I'm a contradiction.<br />
<br />
I can't sleep most nights. When I do, my dreams are bizarre, weird even for me. They connect disjointed memories and the fantastic. I'm 16 at Victory Life Church with my friend Harley the day our mothers came with us and then it morphs into a pirate ship and the whole scene is chaotic. The preacher is ranting on about divorce and there's yo, ho, ho and a bottle of rum. I'm laughing now, but it is 1 am and I want to sleep like everyone else.<br />
<br />
Plans for the long weekend? none. I've always wanted to just park my car at the airport and buy a ticket anywhere, and we just might do that...or there's packing the tent and just heading south along the coast, and that is a possibility, too. I asked Noah what he'd like to do and it seems that taking the scooters to a park would be just fine. I love that kid. He has his first guitar lesson tomorrow night with Franklin Jarvis. Noah's excitement is palpable and contagious. He keeps me going, that kid of mine.<br />
<br />
So, now it is time to lay these weary bones to rest...or at least try. I can work out how to reconfigure the world tomorrow. Tonight I am going to close my eyes and picture cool water rushing over my feet and the sand rushing out between my toes.<br />
<br />
Good-night friends, Love and Peace to all, Krista<br />
<br />
ps. My friend Jim Palmer is doing a cloud call with Jim Henderson April 12. Check out his blog <a href="http://www.divinenobodies.com/">www.divinenobodies.com</a> if you are interested. Topic is his new book and religion free Jesus.fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-37607504593934763542012-03-27T17:34:00.001-07:002012-03-27T17:35:40.827-07:00Freedom<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cGwlohGKYU4/ThoPuVJgvkI/AAAAAAAAAJs/370JYVmhino/s1600/DSC_0106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="232" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cGwlohGKYU4/ThoPuVJgvkI/AAAAAAAAAJs/370JYVmhino/s320/DSC_0106.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
So...I love seagulls...and I know it doesn't fit here, but who cares</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<em><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Morning ramble in my crazy head...</span></em><br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What I see now with the clarity of the crisp spring morn is that the jesses were always illusory. They existed only in my mind and reflection only ever lent them weight and substance, tethering me to the perch. The quest now is to fly onward into How, leaving Why to the past (though still intrinsic, it need not define me). Love soars like a Peregrine on a swift spring breeze.</span></em>fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731798856885544250.post-48703175753279726522012-03-25T16:31:00.002-07:002012-03-25T17:57:15.121-07:00A Beautiful Life<div style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
My weekend...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CC_46GVXScY/T2-acYFbcQI/AAAAAAAAAQw/SlW8r526rCQ/s1600/DSC_0311.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CC_46GVXScY/T2-acYFbcQI/AAAAAAAAAQw/SlW8r526rCQ/s320/DSC_0311.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QjB40FBzLFM/T2-XklynzvI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/8dFlX-NwTWI/s1600/DSC_0300.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QjB40FBzLFM/T2-XklynzvI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/8dFlX-NwTWI/s320/DSC_0300.JPG" width="320" /></a>Off on Friday, We took Ariel to the vet. No worries, she's fine, but I was worried nonetheless. She's my second child. After, Noah and I took Henry to Bethel Beach. We were the only ones there. It was beautiful as always. There is a new to me cut that separates the beach now. In March the water is still too cold to wade across, but we will be back soon...with waders.</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CGOSwPwqyGk/T2-XuLCvzLI/AAAAAAAAAQY/rwiKEEsRDAI/s1600/DSC_0338.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CGOSwPwqyGk/T2-XuLCvzLI/AAAAAAAAAQY/rwiKEEsRDAI/s320/DSC_0338.JPG" width="212" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MRvAZQVXGZ8/T2-X0hfEmVI/AAAAAAAAAQo/5Iz9e6a9EpI/s1600/DSC_0268.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MRvAZQVXGZ8/T2-X0hfEmVI/AAAAAAAAAQo/5Iz9e6a9EpI/s320/DSC_0268.JPG" width="195" /></a>Then we went to Holly Hill Antique Farm where Noah attempted to trade the deer head he brought back from the dump. No trade, but he was offered a part time job when he is old enough to work off the pumpkin farm. It is one of Noah's favorite places to visit. He's excited.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DIlxXQheh4c/T2-W514A8mI/AAAAAAAAAPw/-3a4Mb6x8HU/s1600/DSC_0340.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div>
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DIlxXQheh4c/T2-W514A8mI/AAAAAAAAAPw/-3a4Mb6x8HU/s1600/DSC_0340.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DIlxXQheh4c/T2-W514A8mI/AAAAAAAAAPw/-3a4Mb6x8HU/s320/DSC_0340.JPG" style="cursor: move;" unselectable="on" width="320" /></a>On Saturday, I taught a class at Jamestown 4-H Center's Arts and Robotics Camp. In my class youth made mobiles from wire and tissue paper and modge podge glue. I got to work with one of the new summer staff members, Kendall. She was AWESOME, and she told a great camper joke that was even related to my program. How do you get a tissue to dance? You just put a little boogie in it. While I was at camp, Noah went to the livestock swap at Tractor Supply and came back with these:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2li4U3bgpFk/T2-W09MPKBI/AAAAAAAAAPo/YlQ00AqV8Nc/s1600/DSC_0396.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2li4U3bgpFk/T2-W09MPKBI/AAAAAAAAAPo/YlQ00AqV8Nc/s200/DSC_0396.JPG" width="200" /></a><img border="0" height="132" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ys0tFL-WHJ8/T2-XEE5TcZI/AAAAAAAAAP4/FNOtmTAtRNI/s200/DSC_0398.JPG" width="200" /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
He asked if I was mad after he set them up at the farm. Mad, how could I be mad? And what would the point be... The birds already have a home.</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G8XWaBaa21E/T2-XF6EwZBI/AAAAAAAAAQA/8tsle_t0NmQ/s1600/DSC_0376.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G8XWaBaa21E/T2-XF6EwZBI/AAAAAAAAAQA/8tsle_t0NmQ/s320/DSC_0376.JPG" width="211" /></a> After that we went to a birthday party for the sweetest girl in the world. Jazzy turned 6. Of course there was the usual confusion about who was celebrating a birthday, so I arrived with a birthday gift for her grandad as well. There was much laughter and a big heap of fun. Some people had a few too many Mojitos, but I stuck with the Moscato and sipped slowly. It was a fun scene to watch. Someone had enough Mojitos to survive being in a room full of people poking fun at the Tea Party and its trans- vaginal probes. It was good hanging out with the Chandlers again. Milly, the laughing lady behind Noah is one of my favorite ladies on the planet. She radiates joy like my mom.</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-J1eacOfh9sw/T2-XeZyURKI/AAAAAAAAAQI/80C-3PknZmE/s1600/DSC_0393.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-J1eacOfh9sw/T2-XeZyURKI/AAAAAAAAAQI/80C-3PknZmE/s320/DSC_0393.JPG" width="320" /></a> I am lucky to have a few of those kind of ladies in my life. They are the neon beacons that point the way. I'm sure they show up better on infa-red radar than just about anything else on this crazy planet. They just glow. If you have them in your life, you know you are blessed.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
So now it is Sunday. Noah and I went to Hampton to hear my friend Bert speak at Harbor Point Community Church. If you are looking for a picture, I didn't take the camera. Bert is an awesome speaker, and today was no exception. He spoke beautiful words of truth into my heart. We had to make an abrupt exit at the end when Noah discovered chicken poop on his pants from morning chores, but we enjoyed meeting church members and look forward to our next visit. You can see Bert's sermon is <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gc5KLH7dzgs&feature=youtube_gdata">here.</a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Gn9ZQcpw2a8/T2-XxkxFCwI/AAAAAAAAAQg/jlsiC7chlOw/s1600/DSC_0255.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Gn9ZQcpw2a8/T2-XxkxFCwI/AAAAAAAAAQg/jlsiC7chlOw/s1600/DSC_0255.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Gn9ZQcpw2a8/T2-XxkxFCwI/AAAAAAAAAQg/jlsiC7chlOw/s320/DSC_0255.JPG" width="320" /></a>That picture to the left is one that Noah took on our walk at Bethel Beach. Lovely weekend. And now we are making homemade pizza and everyone has to make their own cause we don't like the other one's sauces. I like mine with pesto and no tomato sauce. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Peace and Love, and I hope everyone had a fantastic weekend! Krista</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<img height="63" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DIlxXQheh4c/T2-W514A8mI/AAAAAAAAAPw/-3a4Mb6x8HU/s320/DSC_0340.JPG" style="filter: alpha(opacity=30); left: 545px; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 1015px;" width="96" />fighting mermaidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04788689267812318882noreply@blogger.com3