The week started with a bang. A Monday morning meeting in which we heard from the CEO saying...no layoffs or restructuring... through December. Then yesterday the state budget came out - with an $8 million dollar cut aimed squarely at my heart. And then I remembered I needed to bring in 4 dozen un-iced and un-decorated sugar cookies.
For the scariest time of the year -- the holiday party. I should mention that for the past several years it's been a potluck affair - that our department slogs in on mass transit. This year we only need to supply dessert. Our group offering - a cookie decorating party. Don't groan. Our party also includes caffeine, a bluegrass band that plays in the subway and some poetry, along with audience participation. The cookie decorating part is tame. It also provides some directed conversation for several hours - hours in which no one complains about work - but instead gets a major sugar rush from the baked goods. So what if the crash hits hard in a few hours. They won't be sitting next to me!
The prepared employee that I am - I carefully shopped for the dough ingredients, budgeted time on Sunday to make the dough, and then chill for 24 hours. Monday night was designated as baking night. Which was all well and good until I knocked one tray of cookies to the floor, and then managed to crush the cookies that were carefully put into the air tight containers.
My brain raced - what could I do? Aha! I called the bakery when I woke up - because, well, that's one place that answers the phone at 6 am.
Do you sell plain sugar cookies - the kind I could use for a cookie decorating party?
Yes.
Can you make custom shapes?
That depends.
I have two cookie cutters, both copper.
Bring them in and we'll take a look. If they won't work you can go through our supply to see what will work.
Okay. I'm coming in.
(grab kid, school lunch, school backpack, office gear and head out. Arrive at bakery with promise of buttered seeded italian roll and a mini-bottle of milk for said kid, and coffee for me.)
May I help you?
Yes. I need to see if the baker can use these cutters to make me some cookies for a holiday party.
I hand over the cutters.
Greeted by silence.
When do you need these for?
Friday at this same time.
Pause.
These are for a holiday party?!
Yes.
The baker comes out.
We can make these, but I've never heard of Christmas Poodles or Winter Retrievers.
Now, I know it was weird. But still, I just needed to pay and get out of there. Because as I've said, the late bell always rings at the same time. So, today, my time was worth more than reshopping and baking, and I got coffee out of it.
My philosophy --- there can only be so many stars, trees, candy canes and bells to decorate. Why not a few poodles. At least people will have something to talk about...
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Thursday, December 4, 2008
What 'cha reading?
Recently I've had occasion to speak with several children's book authors. And today, of all days, one of my very favorite writers for young and young at heart readers was meeting with my big-cheese boss. And I seriously considered stalking him on the way to the meeting --- which by the way took place in a very big library - before it was open to the public. My schedule prevented me from actually going with the big-cheese boss, but that's another story.
I have a particular soft spot for this author because his writing makes me laugh til my belly hurts - and well, I actually think that's a good thing. The boy loves his books too - and we both agree this writer's take on the three little pigs is spot on.
And now this author has written a memoir. I tested a chapter or two on the boy - and it's a good thing that's all NPR made available because we would have stayed up all night to read. I read an excerpt to the boy. And it had us both laughing til we ached.
Where else could you get questions from your kid about Stuckey's pecan log rolls, barf, heaven, hell - and life-forks - all in the span of a little bedtime reading? I can't wait to hear how the boy recommends this book to his cousins - because he will. I'm just wondering if he'll start with the joke, or the guy-barf. Either way it will be a hit.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Phone call from far away...
I was doing some major puttering around the house today - all those things that should be done, but aren't - like organizing outgrown boots for other moms whose kids can now wear them...that kind of thing. Perfectly normal, albeit far down the list of important must do things.
My phone rang and it was my wonderful friend from Baltimore. She sounded happy and excited - and then she posed a question. Guess who I'm standing with? Now, the possibilities are almost endless, as you might imagine. And given that we had worked together at not one, but two jobs in different parts of the Baltimore area, the number was growing. She couldn't keep it inside - and she said - I'm with *really wonderful young woman that we met when she was 14* and in one of our pregnancy prevention/intervention programs.
I was so excited - and then I got the best thanksgiving treat -- I got to talk to that young woman. She's a mom now, married, with two little babies. She finished college and is a social worker, and she is also in ministry. For years I've wondered about the young lives we touched in some of Baltimore's darkest hours, on some of the darkest streets. And today, I got my happy ending. She's doing well, and she told me that each time it got tough she thought of the three mentors she had - S, D and me. We all worked together on a program - and she was one of the ones we loved - we loved her for her energy, and her smarts and her joy in life - and we were also scared that those very things we loved about her would make her extra appealing to the characters on the street - the ones involved in drugs, drug running, guns and gangs.
And the worst didn't happen. She told me it was hard, and at times it tested her belief in herself and her belief in God. And she told me that when it was hardest she reminded herself to look for friends like S, D and me. This wonderful young woman said that what made her think about the future was meeting the three of us - and seeing that we all came from different backgrounds, different communities and different cultures - but that we were tight - and made it work because of our differences - not in spite of them.
Over the years I've come to learn that not all endings are like this - in fact, memorably, I was watching the news on one very hot Sunday night in August - and a young man - again - smart, funny and right on the edge of the cliff... was "perp walked" into the Northeast Division in Baltimore City - on a murder charge. I cried all night long, and in the fifteen years that have passed since that night I still think about him.
I don't care if the turkey's dry, or if the corn bread is overbaked. Because I got my thanksgiving today - in a phone call - from a young woman who is making a difference - because, as she said "You, Miss D. and Miss S. - you helped me believe in myself - because the three of you believed in me and I like to think you never stopped". We didn't.
Enjoy the turkey, the fixings and the friendships. XO
My phone rang and it was my wonderful friend from Baltimore. She sounded happy and excited - and then she posed a question. Guess who I'm standing with? Now, the possibilities are almost endless, as you might imagine. And given that we had worked together at not one, but two jobs in different parts of the Baltimore area, the number was growing. She couldn't keep it inside - and she said - I'm with *really wonderful young woman that we met when she was 14* and in one of our pregnancy prevention/intervention programs.
I was so excited - and then I got the best thanksgiving treat -- I got to talk to that young woman. She's a mom now, married, with two little babies. She finished college and is a social worker, and she is also in ministry. For years I've wondered about the young lives we touched in some of Baltimore's darkest hours, on some of the darkest streets. And today, I got my happy ending. She's doing well, and she told me that each time it got tough she thought of the three mentors she had - S, D and me. We all worked together on a program - and she was one of the ones we loved - we loved her for her energy, and her smarts and her joy in life - and we were also scared that those very things we loved about her would make her extra appealing to the characters on the street - the ones involved in drugs, drug running, guns and gangs.
And the worst didn't happen. She told me it was hard, and at times it tested her belief in herself and her belief in God. And she told me that when it was hardest she reminded herself to look for friends like S, D and me. This wonderful young woman said that what made her think about the future was meeting the three of us - and seeing that we all came from different backgrounds, different communities and different cultures - but that we were tight - and made it work because of our differences - not in spite of them.
Over the years I've come to learn that not all endings are like this - in fact, memorably, I was watching the news on one very hot Sunday night in August - and a young man - again - smart, funny and right on the edge of the cliff... was "perp walked" into the Northeast Division in Baltimore City - on a murder charge. I cried all night long, and in the fifteen years that have passed since that night I still think about him.
I don't care if the turkey's dry, or if the corn bread is overbaked. Because I got my thanksgiving today - in a phone call - from a young woman who is making a difference - because, as she said "You, Miss D. and Miss S. - you helped me believe in myself - because the three of you believed in me and I like to think you never stopped". We didn't.
Enjoy the turkey, the fixings and the friendships. XO
Friday, November 14, 2008
One of the highlights of trying to be organized is remembering to cut to the chase.
Why waste time microwaving precooked bacon when you can just pop the precooked refrigerated bacon on top of the frozen waffles, and toast it. A one toaster meal - sort of. A hot breakfast in the morning. And food police, if you are reading this, it's totally cooked.
So the day presented itself and I needed a photo of the kid and the dog. In a particular pose, with particular props. On any other day I would lovingly set the stage, get the kid and the dog together, and have fun. In the 7 minute morning, I had to make every second count.
I went upstairs to the bookshelf and found a bright and sturdy picture book. I went to the kitchen and got the cold cuts - ham - and then went to my wallet, where I got out two bucks. I now had all the important props, and two participants following me to see what was going to happen. The element of surprise was totally on my side.
No time to waste - the late bell always rings at the same time. I told the boy if he wanted to work for the cash he had to sit on the floor. I told the dog the same thing, except she worked for ham. Once the boy mastered the trick of hiding the ham (see I am smart - it's closer to flesh color than the turkey pepperoni) the dog willingly looked over his shoulder. And once the dog was in position the boy made it his business to earn the cash.
Minutes later the photo was good, the dog was fed and the kid was adding up his pay and plotting his next purchase. Mission accomplished in record time.
The week was off to a good start.
The week was off to a good start.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Today we will only sharpen pencils...
Did you know there are 2 kinds of rules in school? Encouraging classroom rules like "everyone has a chance to be successful" and the other rules - the ones that teachers gently guide the kids towards.
Yes - they are the "no hitting", "raise your hand to talk" variety. But every once in a while a teacher allows one that , while not questionable, walks that fine line between sanity and unpleasantness.
Rule #4, 2nd Grade, Room G15: No fingers in electric pencil sharpeners.
Yes - they are the "no hitting", "raise your hand to talk" variety. But every once in a while a teacher allows one that , while not questionable, walks that fine line between sanity and unpleasantness.
Rule #4, 2nd Grade, Room G15: No fingers in electric pencil sharpeners.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
It's the night before school...
Our local district has decided that the Thursday after Labor Day is a perfectly acceptable time to start school. My place of employment would disagree. Trying to work remotely for the past day and a half has shown me again why gymnasts no longer get perfect scores on the balance beam --- because it's hard.
The backpack is packed and the teacher supply bag is full. This year's supplies include a large box of tissues, one cannister of clorox wipes, a large box of a semi-healthy snack, a pack of index cards and a gallon size box of plastic bags. These supplies do not count the supplies in the backpack - the pre-sharpened pencils, the pre-sharpened colored pencils, crayons, markers, glue sticks and the like.
And so another grade begins, along with a new class, and new parents (mostly moms) to get to know so as one of the few out-of-house-working moms, I can find out what happens before and after school - in the all important information chain that is called "walking and talking with coffee in the schoolyard." I am never at these things because, as I said, they are informal and attending will cause me to miss the train for the "slightly less-ambitious". That's transit speak for gets you to the office by 10 am, if it's on time.
The backpack is packed and the teacher supply bag is full. This year's supplies include a large box of tissues, one cannister of clorox wipes, a large box of a semi-healthy snack, a pack of index cards and a gallon size box of plastic bags. These supplies do not count the supplies in the backpack - the pre-sharpened pencils, the pre-sharpened colored pencils, crayons, markers, glue sticks and the like.
And so another grade begins, along with a new class, and new parents (mostly moms) to get to know so as one of the few out-of-house-working moms, I can find out what happens before and after school - in the all important information chain that is called "walking and talking with coffee in the schoolyard." I am never at these things because, as I said, they are informal and attending will cause me to miss the train for the "slightly less-ambitious". That's transit speak for gets you to the office by 10 am, if it's on time.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
More street scenes...
Filming on the block began on Tuesday. Would you like to join a film crew? Here's how:
Where t-shirt and jeans, or short shorts and shirt that shows some skin. Find piece of white tape, or long label and write - in black felt tip: CREW. Slap on shirt over left breast. Walk to craft tents and say "Jack was looking for me. Have you seen Jack?". Grab donut and walk away. You're in. Optional - walkie talkie and headset. Because some of you might just have those laying about. Oh- and let's be serious - the walkie talkie can't be red and blue from fisher price, and it definitely can't look like a baby monitor. We're talking the big leagues here - felt tip markers and black walkies, please, people.
People spotted - John Hurt as Quintin Crisp. Cynthia Nixon as Penny Arcade. Swoosie Kurtz - as Swoosie. Okay - not really, but she's there too.
Loved the angry people trying to get to the Lincoln tunnel yesterday - slowed by metal tracks in the street for a scene - and a bunch of the crew moving said tracks to the left, a hair, and to the left, again.
All this excitement and what I was really hoping was that Hydrox (yes, remember them?) would be handing out samples at the train station - in celebration of their comeback. Start checking your grocery shelves now.
Where t-shirt and jeans, or short shorts and shirt that shows some skin. Find piece of white tape, or long label and write - in black felt tip: CREW. Slap on shirt over left breast. Walk to craft tents and say "Jack was looking for me. Have you seen Jack?". Grab donut and walk away. You're in. Optional - walkie talkie and headset. Because some of you might just have those laying about. Oh- and let's be serious - the walkie talkie can't be red and blue from fisher price, and it definitely can't look like a baby monitor. We're talking the big leagues here - felt tip markers and black walkies, please, people.
People spotted - John Hurt as Quintin Crisp. Cynthia Nixon as Penny Arcade. Swoosie Kurtz - as Swoosie. Okay - not really, but she's there too.
Loved the angry people trying to get to the Lincoln tunnel yesterday - slowed by metal tracks in the street for a scene - and a bunch of the crew moving said tracks to the left, a hair, and to the left, again.
All this excitement and what I was really hoping was that Hydrox (yes, remember them?) would be handing out samples at the train station - in celebration of their comeback. Start checking your grocery shelves now.
Friday, August 15, 2008
One more week of camp...
Remember the days when going to camp meant being supervised by the high school students working for the "summer recreation" program? That's the one where you played crab soccer, S.P.U.D. and still got to use rubber cement in the art room?
None of the camps the boy tried this year fit the above description. After 7 long weeks of camp at a local family friendly establishment with a pool, a gym and a weight room - everyone in the house was ready for something different. Mostly because the boy cried every morning on the way to camp, and then I cried every day after I dropped him off. He just plain hated it.
This year his choices included the grownup talk about friends --- as in --- if you go to a new camp each week you will need to meet new people and make new friends - every week. Are you okay with that?
In one breath he answers. Yes. Do not send me back to that other camp. I will run away into the woods and even the bear won't find me. Hmmm.
So he had the greatest summer of his life and mine was dictated by directions, car drop off lines, car drop off garages, commuting into not one, but two cities, and remembering to fix lunch, and then get it and the kid to the right location every day.
Two weeks at local middle school with friends (develops love for karate, check. develops love of fencing, check. develops love of good books and writing (brilliant!), check. creates another mosiac sculpture - this time a stool. learns about computers and keyboarding, also comes home saying - Mom, there's this thing called youtube.com and you should really know about it)
Two weeks at zoo camp (weighed with entire class on the elephant scale at animal care center, check. pet the rhino, check. hold a chicken, check. ride the arial tram a week after people were trapped and dangling, check. desire own metro card, check. promise to go back next year, check.) Comes home using zoo words like enclosure, conservation, feeding schedule and hospitalization.
One week at art camp - harnessing the power of the wind. (tell family - we moved a big hanging thing today. Later clarification brings on new meaning - he stood underneath a Calder mobile with foam core, and with 2 7-year olds and 1 8-year old, was able to create enough wind to watch the sculpture make more than one complete movement.) Crafts brought home - one kite, 3 airplane models, 2 paper airplanes, one mobile with coat hanger wire that looks surprisingly like a Calder attempt, and one short-lived puppet.) Comes home wanting to go another week.
Two weeks at Sports Camp - held at an area university. (tells sitter on first day about eating in cafeterias, check. develops love of dodge ball and remains confused as to why he can't play it in school., develops love of S.P.U.D. and the Olympics. adores watching the university sports team players leave the gym, check. Is assigned to team Japan and comes home on Thursday and says "Me and my Japan team are not in medal contention." When showed the real Japanese team wasn't winning as many medals as some other teams he was reassured - "I really am on the Japan team Mom!"
One more week to go...Fencing Camp
Happy remaining summer
None of the camps the boy tried this year fit the above description. After 7 long weeks of camp at a local family friendly establishment with a pool, a gym and a weight room - everyone in the house was ready for something different. Mostly because the boy cried every morning on the way to camp, and then I cried every day after I dropped him off. He just plain hated it.
This year his choices included the grownup talk about friends --- as in --- if you go to a new camp each week you will need to meet new people and make new friends - every week. Are you okay with that?
In one breath he answers. Yes. Do not send me back to that other camp. I will run away into the woods and even the bear won't find me. Hmmm.
So he had the greatest summer of his life and mine was dictated by directions, car drop off lines, car drop off garages, commuting into not one, but two cities, and remembering to fix lunch, and then get it and the kid to the right location every day.
Two weeks at local middle school with friends (develops love for karate, check. develops love of fencing, check. develops love of good books and writing (brilliant!), check. creates another mosiac sculpture - this time a stool. learns about computers and keyboarding, also comes home saying - Mom, there's this thing called youtube.com and you should really know about it)
Two weeks at zoo camp (weighed with entire class on the elephant scale at animal care center, check. pet the rhino, check. hold a chicken, check. ride the arial tram a week after people were trapped and dangling, check. desire own metro card, check. promise to go back next year, check.) Comes home using zoo words like enclosure, conservation, feeding schedule and hospitalization.
One week at art camp - harnessing the power of the wind. (tell family - we moved a big hanging thing today. Later clarification brings on new meaning - he stood underneath a Calder mobile with foam core, and with 2 7-year olds and 1 8-year old, was able to create enough wind to watch the sculpture make more than one complete movement.) Crafts brought home - one kite, 3 airplane models, 2 paper airplanes, one mobile with coat hanger wire that looks surprisingly like a Calder attempt, and one short-lived puppet.) Comes home wanting to go another week.
Two weeks at Sports Camp - held at an area university. (tells sitter on first day about eating in cafeterias, check. develops love of dodge ball and remains confused as to why he can't play it in school., develops love of S.P.U.D. and the Olympics. adores watching the university sports team players leave the gym, check. Is assigned to team Japan and comes home on Thursday and says "Me and my Japan team are not in medal contention." When showed the real Japanese team wasn't winning as many medals as some other teams he was reassured - "I really am on the Japan team Mom!"
One more week to go...Fencing Camp
Happy remaining summer
Thursday, July 10, 2008
The Streets of the Big City
While this happened last Tuesday - I thought I'd share.
Again, just simply walking to work when a very forceful and bulletproof motorcade passes by me and then stops in front of my building. Heavily armed guards get out and point big guns at the sky, the surrounding buildings and above our heads. But some are held in the ready position to the hoi polloi as well.
Of interest to me were the men in suits that travel with the windows open, facing outward, scanning the crowd. No seatbelts, but still at the ready with earpieces, weaponry, and the ability to call anyone into action. Then, out of the big black car comes the foreign minister of iran. Here to be interviewed by AP - and he travels well protected.
Again, just simply walking to work when a very forceful and bulletproof motorcade passes by me and then stops in front of my building. Heavily armed guards get out and point big guns at the sky, the surrounding buildings and above our heads. But some are held in the ready position to the hoi polloi as well.
Of interest to me were the men in suits that travel with the windows open, facing outward, scanning the crowd. No seatbelts, but still at the ready with earpieces, weaponry, and the ability to call anyone into action. Then, out of the big black car comes the foreign minister of iran. Here to be interviewed by AP - and he travels well protected.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Summer Camp produces Cheers, not Tears
Newsflash.... the boy likes summer camp. Well, summer day camp run by the fab adult school in the town we live in. His schedule, which he helped select, consists of fencing, good books/good times, computers, mosaics and karate. He is loving karate and fencing - and happily models fencing and karate moves each night. He is also all about a good book - and happily told me about a polar bear who eats ice cream, and disclosed that they all got dixie cups of ice cream in class. What's not to love?
The end of camp. That's what not to love. This doesn't mean that camps are over for the summer. It means the patchwork activities have begun. He'll travel out of state with his cousin to visit grandparents. Said grandparents are sending the kids to zoo camp. That's right - the zoo hosts a day camp from 9 - mid afternoon. Said kids go together, play in the zoo and then get picked up. By 5 they'll be in the pool. By 6:30, eating dinner, and by 8:30 back to bed for another round of meaningful dream preparation for the next day.
Oh - and the next week he's off to museum camp. I don't think it's going to go so well - but we'll see. It's called harness the wind - and it's all about kites, mobiles, wind chimes and art work. They will get to actually turn on the fan that moves the calder sculpture - which might be interesting. I fear the week won't go so well...but we'll see. Anything can look better with air conditioning.
After that week, a repeat of last summer's favorite activity - the Bronx Zoo day camp. A terrible commute - but he's so happy he doesn't even complain when we are on an unairconditioned subway for 50 minutes - and that's just to get to midtown. Wow.
Summer's here. Camp is fun. And the beer is cold. Sweet.
The end of camp. That's what not to love. This doesn't mean that camps are over for the summer. It means the patchwork activities have begun. He'll travel out of state with his cousin to visit grandparents. Said grandparents are sending the kids to zoo camp. That's right - the zoo hosts a day camp from 9 - mid afternoon. Said kids go together, play in the zoo and then get picked up. By 5 they'll be in the pool. By 6:30, eating dinner, and by 8:30 back to bed for another round of meaningful dream preparation for the next day.
Oh - and the next week he's off to museum camp. I don't think it's going to go so well - but we'll see. It's called harness the wind - and it's all about kites, mobiles, wind chimes and art work. They will get to actually turn on the fan that moves the calder sculpture - which might be interesting. I fear the week won't go so well...but we'll see. Anything can look better with air conditioning.
After that week, a repeat of last summer's favorite activity - the Bronx Zoo day camp. A terrible commute - but he's so happy he doesn't even complain when we are on an unairconditioned subway for 50 minutes - and that's just to get to midtown. Wow.
Summer's here. Camp is fun. And the beer is cold. Sweet.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
And the Rains Came...
So, the Friday before Memorial Day was a "give back day". The states that have no snow in the winter, but plan excessively for it, have give backs. This means school was closed in order to adjust the very special you-must-attend-every-day calendar, but half days count for attendance as well... So we all scrambled for childcare - because of course, 9 days notice is enough for any reasonable person.
And then Tuesday, June 10th came to be. And as June 10th was ending, possibly the weirdest weather this little town has seen struck - and struck hard. We ended up in the basement, with no power, cell phones lit, and waited for the worst to pass.
Our beloved tree - the big one in front of the house - fell apart. It didn't hit the house - but most of the branches fell onto the wires onto the street...and we took out 10 houses worth of power. That's okay - the rest of the neighborhood was out as well. We could see between lightening flashes that big branches were down and that wires were arcing. And then foolish people went out into the dark, into the streets, with downed wires all over the place.
We also discovered that the boy actually knew where something was... in the midst of T and I trying to find our way around the house guided by cell phone light, the boy piped up and said he knew where his headlamp was. Really? Because he can't seem to find the underwear that's in his top drawer - every day. Except - in this case - he was right. He knew - because he's been using the headlamp (as he later revealed) to read after lights out.
Armed with one flashlight, one head lamp and two cell phones we eventually slept downstairs - in case the rest of the tree fell into our bedrooms. Just a bough resting on the roof - nothing like what another neighborhood faced... The best part - it was 90 degrees for 3 days, and the power finally came back on late Thursday evening - with a breakdown on Friday - and then returned for good on Friday afternoon.
I will post a picture of the mess once I get the computer and the camera to talk to each other. It sounds so simple, yet, there is one tiny little link missing and until I can find it - you'll have to use your imagination. And get this - I looked forward to going to work each morning because I could count on power, air conditioning, and a place to recharge my phone. Sad, but true.
Wednesday morning school was cancelled via the reverse 911 system - for those people with power, working phone lines and the like. Our neighborhood had none of those things - so the police drove in as far as they could, and then walked with bullhorns announcing the state of emergency and school closings. Don't you really want to be home with a neighborhood that has more than 9 first graders... and none of them can find a safe outdoor place to play because of wires, widow-makers (big broken branches resting in the trees, just waiting for a breeze so they can drop), and hot, humid air? Oh yes - it's pretty. But shortlived -and really, considering the rest of the country was dealing with other, worse natural disasters, this was just annoying.
3 days without power is enough for me. It's not like we were trying to live off the grid. Or had planned a weekend of camping. We just happened to be the last ten houses in the 'hood that were turned back on - and if our neighbor hadn't literally flagged down a tiny utility company truck and started crying, we might not have gotten power until Saturday. They actually told her they had moved on so they could restore bigger sections and reduce "overall total power outages". Our ten houses meant nothing...until the worker actually stopped.
The upside - a lovely, clean fridge. The downside - school was extended an extra day...that's right - after the give back vacation day - the kids were in school until the 25th. And I'm not sure anyone was happy about that. First grade's over - and summer has begun.
And then Tuesday, June 10th came to be. And as June 10th was ending, possibly the weirdest weather this little town has seen struck - and struck hard. We ended up in the basement, with no power, cell phones lit, and waited for the worst to pass.
Our beloved tree - the big one in front of the house - fell apart. It didn't hit the house - but most of the branches fell onto the wires onto the street...and we took out 10 houses worth of power. That's okay - the rest of the neighborhood was out as well. We could see between lightening flashes that big branches were down and that wires were arcing. And then foolish people went out into the dark, into the streets, with downed wires all over the place.
We also discovered that the boy actually knew where something was... in the midst of T and I trying to find our way around the house guided by cell phone light, the boy piped up and said he knew where his headlamp was. Really? Because he can't seem to find the underwear that's in his top drawer - every day. Except - in this case - he was right. He knew - because he's been using the headlamp (as he later revealed) to read after lights out.
Armed with one flashlight, one head lamp and two cell phones we eventually slept downstairs - in case the rest of the tree fell into our bedrooms. Just a bough resting on the roof - nothing like what another neighborhood faced... The best part - it was 90 degrees for 3 days, and the power finally came back on late Thursday evening - with a breakdown on Friday - and then returned for good on Friday afternoon.
I will post a picture of the mess once I get the computer and the camera to talk to each other. It sounds so simple, yet, there is one tiny little link missing and until I can find it - you'll have to use your imagination. And get this - I looked forward to going to work each morning because I could count on power, air conditioning, and a place to recharge my phone. Sad, but true.
Wednesday morning school was cancelled via the reverse 911 system - for those people with power, working phone lines and the like. Our neighborhood had none of those things - so the police drove in as far as they could, and then walked with bullhorns announcing the state of emergency and school closings. Don't you really want to be home with a neighborhood that has more than 9 first graders... and none of them can find a safe outdoor place to play because of wires, widow-makers (big broken branches resting in the trees, just waiting for a breeze so they can drop), and hot, humid air? Oh yes - it's pretty. But shortlived -and really, considering the rest of the country was dealing with other, worse natural disasters, this was just annoying.
3 days without power is enough for me. It's not like we were trying to live off the grid. Or had planned a weekend of camping. We just happened to be the last ten houses in the 'hood that were turned back on - and if our neighbor hadn't literally flagged down a tiny utility company truck and started crying, we might not have gotten power until Saturday. They actually told her they had moved on so they could restore bigger sections and reduce "overall total power outages". Our ten houses meant nothing...until the worker actually stopped.
The upside - a lovely, clean fridge. The downside - school was extended an extra day...that's right - after the give back vacation day - the kids were in school until the 25th. And I'm not sure anyone was happy about that. First grade's over - and summer has begun.
Monday, May 26, 2008
We all made it to Seven!
The boy was so excited. I finally caved and allowed him to have a birthday party outside of our home. My theory on birthday parties is that they should be fun - and sometimes home is the best place. So we've seen a pizza party where we took small pizza boxes from the local pizza place and walked the invitations inside the boxes to neighborhood friends. We've also done science experiments - mentos and diet coke - complete with safety goggles and a take home science pack. And then there was last year. The year of no party. The birthday that I've been reminded of by the boy - or by my guilt. Yes - I was too busy with work travel to figure it out. So we had a few small things at home - but no party with 6 friends.
This year, when the topic of birthdays came up in February - he asked for some kind of inflatable party. The location is 30 minutes from here and I couldn't do that to the other parents - and I was not about to rent a shuttle bus for 1st graders. We compromised on bowling.
For some it's the stuff of nightmares, and for some, it's the stuff of dreams. I fall somewhere in between. The boy broke 100 and managed to win "high scorer". One of his friends turns out to be a party master extraordinaire - and can dance the chicken dance like no other - and another friend took pictures with her camera. (She's the only one that took pictures - another thing he's reminded me about.)
Picture a bowling alley with 7 parties running at the same time. I did too. So I gave the kids all tye-dyed t-shirts to put on when they got there - so I could track who belonged to our party. The kids loved them and I think it was enough home craftiness for me for a while. Between the strobe lights and the long-playing Stairway to Heaven music I knew the two hours would be really long. Fortunately, pizza, bowling, and the mystical Sprite soda - it was a good time for the kids.
It was only the next day, after the party, that I realized how tired I really was. I'd landed from a long flight back from the west coast early on Friday morning, and had tried to wrangle the house and its contents into some state of not-so-messy and then started on the party stuff in time for Saturday. Did you know just how long it takes to dye t-shirts? I did not. I do now. And I take full credit for the totally groovy patterns on the t-shirts. (Thanks online instructions.)
He's seven, he's happy and he's writing his thank you notes. (I should really have borrowed my sister-in-laws trick/suggestion/cool thing - before her kids can really play with the gifts - they need to write the thank you notes. So that's how it gets done so fast. 5 notes down, 5 to go. Sweet.
This year, when the topic of birthdays came up in February - he asked for some kind of inflatable party. The location is 30 minutes from here and I couldn't do that to the other parents - and I was not about to rent a shuttle bus for 1st graders. We compromised on bowling.
For some it's the stuff of nightmares, and for some, it's the stuff of dreams. I fall somewhere in between. The boy broke 100 and managed to win "high scorer". One of his friends turns out to be a party master extraordinaire - and can dance the chicken dance like no other - and another friend took pictures with her camera. (She's the only one that took pictures - another thing he's reminded me about.)
Picture a bowling alley with 7 parties running at the same time. I did too. So I gave the kids all tye-dyed t-shirts to put on when they got there - so I could track who belonged to our party. The kids loved them and I think it was enough home craftiness for me for a while. Between the strobe lights and the long-playing Stairway to Heaven music I knew the two hours would be really long. Fortunately, pizza, bowling, and the mystical Sprite soda - it was a good time for the kids.
It was only the next day, after the party, that I realized how tired I really was. I'd landed from a long flight back from the west coast early on Friday morning, and had tried to wrangle the house and its contents into some state of not-so-messy and then started on the party stuff in time for Saturday. Did you know just how long it takes to dye t-shirts? I did not. I do now. And I take full credit for the totally groovy patterns on the t-shirts. (Thanks online instructions.)
He's seven, he's happy and he's writing his thank you notes. (I should really have borrowed my sister-in-laws trick/suggestion/cool thing - before her kids can really play with the gifts - they need to write the thank you notes. So that's how it gets done so fast. 5 notes down, 5 to go. Sweet.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Big Boy Bikes and Birthdays
Well, the boy is almost 7 - or will be in a few days. In the impromptu doctor's office visit yesterday - where we discovered he had strep - we also found out he weighs close to 60 pounds. No wonder I can't carry him up the stairs any more.
Threes doses of medicine later and we went in search of his birthday present. A brand new bike in blue, with a helmet color best described as poison dart frog red-green-yellow, and a bell, came home in the back of the car.
Some people cry at graduation and some people cry at weddings. Me, I teared up looking at my husband - who was tearing up looking at the boy. Tearing because this was exactly the scene we have talked about over the past three years - the one where a shiny new seven year old learns how to ride a shiny new bike.
All the more relevant because in my weakest, darkest moments - the ones where I didn't think T would live, I was saddest for the two of them -- that the boy wouldn't have his dad to teach him how to ride a bike. Which, given what was at stake, should have been the least of my worries. But it's odd how at 3 am, when the only other people up are the nurses and first year residents, how clearly your mind can create a movie. It's a movie with a perfect picture - filmed so beautifully you can feel the temperature of the day, the breeze in the air and you know almost to the minute what time it is because the sunlight tells you. My movie had two endings. The first, with T and the boy happily succeeding. The second ending was the one I couldn't get out of my head. It was the one where I was trying to teach him. And the breeze was cold, and I couldn't help him. No thumbs up for that ending.
And it's not that I couldn't have, or can't teach him - but the one thing T is much, much better at than I am - is to give the little guy enough - to let him go.
So in the end of the real movie, T followed while the boy increased his speed with the training wheels - and both of them came home predicting that in the next two weeks the training wheels will be off and the race will be on.
Threes doses of medicine later and we went in search of his birthday present. A brand new bike in blue, with a helmet color best described as poison dart frog red-green-yellow, and a bell, came home in the back of the car.
Some people cry at graduation and some people cry at weddings. Me, I teared up looking at my husband - who was tearing up looking at the boy. Tearing because this was exactly the scene we have talked about over the past three years - the one where a shiny new seven year old learns how to ride a shiny new bike.
All the more relevant because in my weakest, darkest moments - the ones where I didn't think T would live, I was saddest for the two of them -- that the boy wouldn't have his dad to teach him how to ride a bike. Which, given what was at stake, should have been the least of my worries. But it's odd how at 3 am, when the only other people up are the nurses and first year residents, how clearly your mind can create a movie. It's a movie with a perfect picture - filmed so beautifully you can feel the temperature of the day, the breeze in the air and you know almost to the minute what time it is because the sunlight tells you. My movie had two endings. The first, with T and the boy happily succeeding. The second ending was the one I couldn't get out of my head. It was the one where I was trying to teach him. And the breeze was cold, and I couldn't help him. No thumbs up for that ending.
And it's not that I couldn't have, or can't teach him - but the one thing T is much, much better at than I am - is to give the little guy enough - to let him go.
So in the end of the real movie, T followed while the boy increased his speed with the training wheels - and both of them came home predicting that in the next two weeks the training wheels will be off and the race will be on.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Happy Easter
It's Easter! And if you haven't heard already - it won't be this early again for another two hundren and twenty years. Which means not in our lifetime. And while I've been a little grumpy about it coming so early - after today's service - I was reminded again that it doesn't matter where Easter falls on the calendar.
And then I went to church and heard some of the most amazing music, along with the most amazing story. You know the story - but for the boy, it was the first time he'd thought about the passage in John that tells what happened when the women venture to the cave. He hasn't said much, but I know he was thinking because he asked if anyone else could rise from the dead.
We have a new pastor - well, a pastor that is new to our church. She's been here since September, and it's been nice to listen to her as we all become aquainted with the way she guides the church.
Today we walked into the Sanctuary and it was filled with light and tulips, hyacinths, and lilies. There were also banners streaming from the cross and lifted 30 feet into the air with the help of a few wires. The purple, blue, orange, yellow, green, pink and white cloths streamed out from the cross and along the edges of the aisles - attached high on the columns. I later learned that a high school student was responsible for climbing the ladder and getting the banners up there. Our church has amazing stained glass windows and when the sun finally ventured out the sanctuary was filled with color. It may sound corny - but it was really beautiful.
The music in the church has always been great - partially due to our proximity to NYC, and partially due to the actors, actresses, musicians and artists that worship in the church. Drums, bells, brass, the choir, the organ, - somehow when you walk in you think it might be too much - but when you leave - it's almost always just right.
After our family's winter, it did feel right and good to give thanks.
Happy Easter.
And then I went to church and heard some of the most amazing music, along with the most amazing story. You know the story - but for the boy, it was the first time he'd thought about the passage in John that tells what happened when the women venture to the cave. He hasn't said much, but I know he was thinking because he asked if anyone else could rise from the dead.
We have a new pastor - well, a pastor that is new to our church. She's been here since September, and it's been nice to listen to her as we all become aquainted with the way she guides the church.
Today we walked into the Sanctuary and it was filled with light and tulips, hyacinths, and lilies. There were also banners streaming from the cross and lifted 30 feet into the air with the help of a few wires. The purple, blue, orange, yellow, green, pink and white cloths streamed out from the cross and along the edges of the aisles - attached high on the columns. I later learned that a high school student was responsible for climbing the ladder and getting the banners up there. Our church has amazing stained glass windows and when the sun finally ventured out the sanctuary was filled with color. It may sound corny - but it was really beautiful.
The music in the church has always been great - partially due to our proximity to NYC, and partially due to the actors, actresses, musicians and artists that worship in the church. Drums, bells, brass, the choir, the organ, - somehow when you walk in you think it might be too much - but when you leave - it's almost always just right.
After our family's winter, it did feel right and good to give thanks.
Happy Easter.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Twist it a little bit...
My favorite time of day with the boy is just after he's been tucked in by his dad. I get a request to come in. It's the sweet time - I lay my head on his pillow and we talk or daydream, or as in last night's episode, we discuss loose teeth.
One tooth in particular. The first of the upper fronts. It's hanging by a bit more than a thread, and his father has already declined the very polite "would you pull it out for me?" plea. I tried the "sleep on it and we'll see what breakfast does to the tooth". In my mind I am praying that he doesn't choke on it overnight and that a waffle will do the trick.
Then, we get one of those sweet moments.
Him: (softly) will you forget me?
Me: Never.
Him: In a day?
Me: Nope.
Him: In a week?
Me: Nope.
Him: will you forget me in a year?
Me: Not even in the year after. (And now I'm all gooey)
Him: (takes a breath)
Me: (takes a breath)
Him: Knock Knock
Me: (puzzled over the transition) Who's there?
Him: (fake shock) You forgot me already!
Set up by a six-year old. But he really did make me laugh!
One tooth in particular. The first of the upper fronts. It's hanging by a bit more than a thread, and his father has already declined the very polite "would you pull it out for me?" plea. I tried the "sleep on it and we'll see what breakfast does to the tooth". In my mind I am praying that he doesn't choke on it overnight and that a waffle will do the trick.
Then, we get one of those sweet moments.
Him: (softly) will you forget me?
Me: Never.
Him: In a day?
Me: Nope.
Him: In a week?
Me: Nope.
Him: will you forget me in a year?
Me: Not even in the year after. (And now I'm all gooey)
Him: (takes a breath)
Me: (takes a breath)
Him: Knock Knock
Me: (puzzled over the transition) Who's there?
Him: (fake shock) You forgot me already!
Set up by a six-year old. But he really did make me laugh!
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Faster mornings coming to a store near you...
How fast can we get out of the house in the morning? Not fast enough. I have recently re-upped my pledge to not say "hurry up or I'm going to miss my train". For two months I held strong, bit my tongue and kept my panic to myself. I also incurred numerous parking tickets for running late and parking where commuters aren't supposed to park.
And for all of you that say "get up 15 minutes earlier" - well, it's been done. The young one in the family can take 30 minutes to eat a piece of toast. Why? I don't know. This is usually after he's cut it in triangles and turned it into a weapon to point at "something that is not living". Most often the dining room mirror experiences toast gunshots. This is better than pointing at the dog. She knows no fear and figures a piece of toast pointing at her mouth must mean it's okay to take it. When the complaining starts I say make a new piece of toast or finish your milk.
On to something that could make it more fun! Since getting up earlier doesn't work, and I'm beginning to feel the strain of cracking an egg and making french toast... let's all have some fun with the newest organic product on the block.
The Batter Blaster. It looks like good, clean, wholesome fun - and clean up is a snap too. Please watch the video. If I was better at this I'd know how to show you the fancy link. But I don't. And if I mess with this too much longer I'll be late again, and it's only Tuesday.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Make me an astronaut...
This is better than ordering people in the lifeboat - that old '70s game they made us play in high school. You know the one - where we bonded because we saved the smart old man over the young man who couldn't have children, and played music. All in the name of values clarification.
More fun to be an astronaut...http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/moon
And easily more fun to kill time on a Friday.
More fun to be an astronaut...http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/moon
And easily more fun to kill time on a Friday.
Monday, March 10, 2008
When an astronaut has a conversation with you...
I love the odd things that happen in my life. Let's take last Thursday's conversation with a well known woman astronaut. She is having a discussion of isolated thunderstorms and the conversation goes something like this...
Let me tell you a bit about my time in space. We don't have lots of time to look out the windows, so when we do we are really lucky... We had been noticing lots of isolated thunderstorms over the Medaterranian, and over Africa. It was getting dark as we approached the east coast of Africa and it was all lit up - yes - it's true - everyone likes to live on the water - and we could still see the isolated thunderstorms. Suddenly, one of the isolated thunderstorms filled with lightening, illuminated, and then set off many other isolated thunderstorms - one by one. It was then she realized there are no such things as isolated thunderstorms.
First, how often do you hear someone casually say "as we were flying over the east coast of Africa" and realize she's talking from space - not from British Airways. And then she wove the whole thing around to teaching - you never know which mind will light up or flash in your presence or because of your presence. Totally cool woman who was honored that we had invited her to this mega conference. And second - that she actually spent time talking to me when she realized inviting her to this conference was my brainchild - and noticed that the invite came while she was in flight last fall. (All because I am a morning show news junkie and was getting my fix when her interview came on...) That was the coolest thing about the weekend.
This event is something many have compared to childbirth - 9 months of planning - a long labor - exhaustion - and then bliss that it's over (helped by a few glasses of wine at the reception). The pain dulls after a few weeks and then it's time to get pregnant again. By that time the pain is fuzzy...and so it continues.
Jane Goodall signed books for 3 hours - until the last person got their book signed, and she looks like a gently older version of her pictures from the 1970s - still beautiful, and still almost too elegant for field work.
I can now say I've met an astronaut, thanked Jane Goodall, and met hundreds of really cool teachers. And in two days when my staff returns to the office, I can thank them for all of their hard work - and figure out a way to more formally recognize their efforts - because I am not going through labor again without them.
Let me tell you a bit about my time in space. We don't have lots of time to look out the windows, so when we do we are really lucky... We had been noticing lots of isolated thunderstorms over the Medaterranian, and over Africa. It was getting dark as we approached the east coast of Africa and it was all lit up - yes - it's true - everyone likes to live on the water - and we could still see the isolated thunderstorms. Suddenly, one of the isolated thunderstorms filled with lightening, illuminated, and then set off many other isolated thunderstorms - one by one. It was then she realized there are no such things as isolated thunderstorms.
First, how often do you hear someone casually say "as we were flying over the east coast of Africa" and realize she's talking from space - not from British Airways. And then she wove the whole thing around to teaching - you never know which mind will light up or flash in your presence or because of your presence. Totally cool woman who was honored that we had invited her to this mega conference. And second - that she actually spent time talking to me when she realized inviting her to this conference was my brainchild - and noticed that the invite came while she was in flight last fall. (All because I am a morning show news junkie and was getting my fix when her interview came on...) That was the coolest thing about the weekend.
This event is something many have compared to childbirth - 9 months of planning - a long labor - exhaustion - and then bliss that it's over (helped by a few glasses of wine at the reception). The pain dulls after a few weeks and then it's time to get pregnant again. By that time the pain is fuzzy...and so it continues.
Jane Goodall signed books for 3 hours - until the last person got their book signed, and she looks like a gently older version of her pictures from the 1970s - still beautiful, and still almost too elegant for field work.
I can now say I've met an astronaut, thanked Jane Goodall, and met hundreds of really cool teachers. And in two days when my staff returns to the office, I can thank them for all of their hard work - and figure out a way to more formally recognize their efforts - because I am not going through labor again without them.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Notes you don't really want to see come home...
From: School District
To: Family
One case of lice has been detected in your child's class. The child has been checked by the nurse and is no longer a carrier. Blah Blah lice Blah Blah nits Blah Blah Blah lice Blah Blah Blah.
As for timing, the NY Times article published that day describes a lovely salon, NitPixies - where for hundreds of dollars they will solve your problem. I was set to call until I realized - we don't have them - and the salon is on the West Coast.
So far the red head has remained safe. Each time I read the word lice I want to itch. And each time I itch I try harder not to -- and we all know how well that strategy works... not.
The backpack brings many things home. Many things to praise, file, ooh and ahh over, and toss. I didn't realize it might come with the potential to bring living creatures home.
Not the sweet frog-like kind, but the nasty kind. In my short career as mom I have washed and dried a worm-in-a-pocket (the worm didn't live, the boy cried), rescued crickets from jars without holes, and put a stop to bathtime with the dog - boy and dog, bubbles and water, all at once.
No lice so far. And no more notes. But I bought the RidX just in case - and am hoping that having it in the cabinet is just one more thing to clutter up the house.
To: Family
One case of lice has been detected in your child's class. The child has been checked by the nurse and is no longer a carrier. Blah Blah lice Blah Blah nits Blah Blah Blah lice Blah Blah Blah.
As for timing, the NY Times article published that day describes a lovely salon, NitPixies - where for hundreds of dollars they will solve your problem. I was set to call until I realized - we don't have them - and the salon is on the West Coast.
So far the red head has remained safe. Each time I read the word lice I want to itch. And each time I itch I try harder not to -- and we all know how well that strategy works... not.
The backpack brings many things home. Many things to praise, file, ooh and ahh over, and toss. I didn't realize it might come with the potential to bring living creatures home.
Not the sweet frog-like kind, but the nasty kind. In my short career as mom I have washed and dried a worm-in-a-pocket (the worm didn't live, the boy cried), rescued crickets from jars without holes, and put a stop to bathtime with the dog - boy and dog, bubbles and water, all at once.
No lice so far. And no more notes. But I bought the RidX just in case - and am hoping that having it in the cabinet is just one more thing to clutter up the house.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
When work turns into madness...
Well, it's time for the biggest project of my work year. And things were so bad today I decided to see just how much money I needed to save so we could pay our bills and I didn't have to commute on a regular basis. My search lead me to this....and the thing costs $7.99
The text on the bank reads "Touchdowns are for losers. The only thing I want to score is some good drugs." Of course it's sold out.
Monday, February 4, 2008
When the kids stay up too late...
The national holiday that is Super Bowl Sunday snuck up on our child. He remained blissfully unaware that the reason the bagel store in town was selling blue bagels was for local Giants support. He thought they were practicing for the green bagels for St. Pat's day. (Another scary story)
That was fine until we announced we were going to a neighbor's for a Super Bowl Party. That's right. Whatever Costco sold on Friday night - it was there. The traditional mini franks, wings, 6 layer dip (what happened to #7?), chips, beer, wine... our friends throw great parties - and walk that perfect mix of company and food that makes everyone feel happy.
Here's a bit of role reversal. In my day the kids were sent to the basement to play with "toys" and told to stay away from things like pool cues, saws and anything you could plug in that wasn't a television.
Now the adults head to the basement for the huge tv, great sound and some fun. The kids (ages 3 - 8) ran the joint up stairs. They watched Wallace & Gromit, Batman, Scoobey Doo, and discussed the Hannah Montana 3-D movie that some of them had seen earlier in the day. Until the last 2 minutes, when, well, we all know how the game turned out. Cheering, screaming kids were suddenly on overdrive - and that's when we all realized it was 10 pm and we did know where our kids were - not in bed and seriously hyped up on brownies.
As a parting gift to all, I asked the kids what they should say to any question at school - for Monday only. They looked puzzled - and then figured it out. Go Giants! Go Giants!
That's right - after a few practice questions, they've figured it out. Have you brushed your teeth? Go Giants! Who's your teacher? Go Giants?
So this morning, our child is in line at the office for a late pass - (totally my issue) - and when the office secretary of all office secretaries says "Who's your teacher?", my little kid shouldered up and said (in a really soft voice) Go Giants!
He ended up with the late pass - but a story to tell his friends.
That was fine until we announced we were going to a neighbor's for a Super Bowl Party. That's right. Whatever Costco sold on Friday night - it was there. The traditional mini franks, wings, 6 layer dip (what happened to #7?), chips, beer, wine... our friends throw great parties - and walk that perfect mix of company and food that makes everyone feel happy.
Here's a bit of role reversal. In my day the kids were sent to the basement to play with "toys" and told to stay away from things like pool cues, saws and anything you could plug in that wasn't a television.
Now the adults head to the basement for the huge tv, great sound and some fun. The kids (ages 3 - 8) ran the joint up stairs. They watched Wallace & Gromit, Batman, Scoobey Doo, and discussed the Hannah Montana 3-D movie that some of them had seen earlier in the day. Until the last 2 minutes, when, well, we all know how the game turned out. Cheering, screaming kids were suddenly on overdrive - and that's when we all realized it was 10 pm and we did know where our kids were - not in bed and seriously hyped up on brownies.
As a parting gift to all, I asked the kids what they should say to any question at school - for Monday only. They looked puzzled - and then figured it out. Go Giants! Go Giants!
That's right - after a few practice questions, they've figured it out. Have you brushed your teeth? Go Giants! Who's your teacher? Go Giants?
So this morning, our child is in line at the office for a late pass - (totally my issue) - and when the office secretary of all office secretaries says "Who's your teacher?", my little kid shouldered up and said (in a really soft voice) Go Giants!
He ended up with the late pass - but a story to tell his friends.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Real Sports for Real Kids
The day started out innocently enough --- it was my first day back in the office after the new year. I rode up the escalator in Penn Station with some cowboys and beefy security guards. I should have know something was up but I was in a need-my-coffee haze.
Two things I noticed. How big the security guards were, and how compact the cowboys were. And then I walked out onto the corner of 33rd and 8th - to find bulls, cowboys, an arena and dirt. Oh, and t-shirts being tossed. Ones that said "Real Men Last 8 Seconds".
That's right. The bulls invaded New York City. Later that day I made at least 7 of my colleagues take the walk back to the corner to see the bull riding happen on one of the busiest corners in New York. And it was on the coldest day of the year as well - one in which scarves, mittens, gloves and coats didn't help at all. But we did it - braved the cold to watch a little bull riding and take a break from the office - really do something different for lunch.
Caught up in the excitement I bought two tickets to the finals - having found out from one of the PBR tour staffers that the best place to sit is close to the chutes. The boy and I took the train in and got ready for the day. What 6-year old doesn't like noise, danger, dirt, $8 cotton candy and $20 t-shirts? Mine was first in line.
Vince Northrup broke 3 ribs (right 2,3,4), partially collapsed his right lung, broke a tooth, and lacerated his chin when he was stepped on after being thrown off by his Championship Round bull, Party Time. He was transported to Albany Medical Center where he was evaluated, treated, and released. He is out for 4-8 weeks.Bull: Party Time -- example of injury report, showing there is real danger in this sport
His favorite bull? Cheeseburger with an Attitude (really known as Smiley) and Super Duty - the Ford Tough bull (the PBR might be the most masterfully branded event ever). Stop grimacing. He doesn't get the irony of the bull named Cheeseburger - he thinks the reason the crowd laughed is because cheeseburgers don't have attitudes.
This little outing has led to him becoming a fan of Versus - the cable network formerly known as something like the Outdoor Living Network. Now - it's all person vs. nature. So while he may cry at the sport fishing, and was upset at the salmon gasping, he is cheering madly for his favorite bulls. Not that we let him stay up till they broadcast at 9:30 - but isn't that what that dvr thing is for?
He's enjoying himself and can't wait till next year - when he replays the opening of the event - complete with fake echo. Welcome to the P (ppppp, flash bang fireworks,) B (bbbbb, flash bang fireworks), R (rrrrr flash bang fireworks). Built Ford Tough. I should mention that the letters are spelled out on the dirt in the arena floor, and as the announcer says P - the P flashes and lights up in flames until...finally, blessedly, ending the lights portion of the show when the last letter burns out.
He is sleeping in the t-shirt I caught during the event - one that has a picture of Super Duty on it. And an http://invasionofthebulls.com/ address. It's bookmarked in his favorites, right along with pbskidsgo.org and panwapa.com.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
In which we learn it's still January
Greetings. All is finally getting back to normal here in Orangeland. Many things have happened since November, so I'll just hit the highlights.
A local pharmacy dispensed the incorrect medications needed for surgery, and as a result, the patient ended up in the emergency room, passed out and drooling, from a mega dose of an anti-psychotic drug. That's right. It's been a while, but antibiotics, last I checked with the doctor, were actually the proper medications needed.
That caused a one-week delay in surgery. That does seem far in the past now that the patient's return to work is approaching. Still, I wonder how he will do on the commute to the office. It is one thing to be up at home and stir crazy. It's another to be upright early in the am with many crazy people stirring about. Keep your fingers crossed.
I've just returned from at trip to Columbus, Ohio because conferences are cheap there in the winter. I saw a total of 10 people on the street in downtown Columbus, and found out there is NOT ONE chinese restaurant that delivers in the downtown area. (And I have experience with limited delivery - early in our Baltimore years we lived in a neighborhood so sketchy the pizza place would only stop the car if they could see us waiting in the vestibule. They wouldn't get out of the car unless we were already there...)
Sometimes hotel food is just not what you want after a day of being ill on a business trip, in a strange bed, away from family and familiar...all I wanted was the $1.75 pint of wonton soup (and just the broth, mind you - no wontons). It was not to be. The "At your service" person suggested taking a $20 cab ride, round trip. Not for a pint of soup. No thank you.
On the upside, before my untimely illness, I did have time to walk to Grant Street, where the very lovely Columbus Metropolitan Library exists. The stone benches in the front say it all "Our Treasures Are Within". What a beautiful building - and so user friendly it's almost scary. I'm still out on my favorite part - self-serve checkout with a receipt like you get at costco, or the fabulous exhibit on the creation of the library - complete with a western union note from andrew carnegie authorizing the building of the library. Oh, and the tile work when you walk is is pretty spiffy as well. Every hotel in downtown would do well to acquaint themselves with this attraction instead of (or in addition to)sending people to the regular places like Short North and the german district.
Back on the home front everyone seemed to survive. The kid remembered to write his VIP note to the designated child, and they managed to eat more than frozen pizza. I don't ask for more detail when I return because unless there is a note from a teacher, the police or church, everyone has survived another day.
A local pharmacy dispensed the incorrect medications needed for surgery, and as a result, the patient ended up in the emergency room, passed out and drooling, from a mega dose of an anti-psychotic drug. That's right. It's been a while, but antibiotics, last I checked with the doctor, were actually the proper medications needed.
That caused a one-week delay in surgery. That does seem far in the past now that the patient's return to work is approaching. Still, I wonder how he will do on the commute to the office. It is one thing to be up at home and stir crazy. It's another to be upright early in the am with many crazy people stirring about. Keep your fingers crossed.
I've just returned from at trip to Columbus, Ohio because conferences are cheap there in the winter. I saw a total of 10 people on the street in downtown Columbus, and found out there is NOT ONE chinese restaurant that delivers in the downtown area. (And I have experience with limited delivery - early in our Baltimore years we lived in a neighborhood so sketchy the pizza place would only stop the car if they could see us waiting in the vestibule. They wouldn't get out of the car unless we were already there...)
Sometimes hotel food is just not what you want after a day of being ill on a business trip, in a strange bed, away from family and familiar...all I wanted was the $1.75 pint of wonton soup (and just the broth, mind you - no wontons). It was not to be. The "At your service" person suggested taking a $20 cab ride, round trip. Not for a pint of soup. No thank you.
On the upside, before my untimely illness, I did have time to walk to Grant Street, where the very lovely Columbus Metropolitan Library exists. The stone benches in the front say it all "Our Treasures Are Within". What a beautiful building - and so user friendly it's almost scary. I'm still out on my favorite part - self-serve checkout with a receipt like you get at costco, or the fabulous exhibit on the creation of the library - complete with a western union note from andrew carnegie authorizing the building of the library. Oh, and the tile work when you walk is is pretty spiffy as well. Every hotel in downtown would do well to acquaint themselves with this attraction instead of (or in addition to)sending people to the regular places like Short North and the german district.
Back on the home front everyone seemed to survive. The kid remembered to write his VIP note to the designated child, and they managed to eat more than frozen pizza. I don't ask for more detail when I return because unless there is a note from a teacher, the police or church, everyone has survived another day.
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