Summers Off, Schlummers Off

This may sound odd, but trading the school job with summer's off, for part time work year round is feeling like a really good thing for me.  Don't get me wrong, I strongly believe the teachers need the summer break. Some even start the old "count down" in March or so.  A teacher lives and breathes school for 180 days, going hard all the way. It really is an intense avocation.  And a special shout out to the Special Education teachers who are required to do way more paperwork, meetings, parent contacts and student issues than regular ed teachers, all for no more pay and usually much less glory.  I'm not saying traditional teachers don't work as hard, many do. It's just the special education laws and requirements are so absurdly out of control, you couldn't slide if you were so inclined.

Back to the point here.  I have informally surveyed teachers about their enjoyment or ability to get the full benefit of the summer off, and they resoundingly agree, they have no problem basking in it to the maximum. One guidance counselor, however, agreed with me that there is a lingering sense of guilt, depression or inability to feel productive during the long break.  Turns out, she previously worked most of her career outside the education system in year round employment.  I also felt a little restricted by the schedule in only being allowed two personal days to use when and as I choose.  Again, don't get me wrong, having holidays and a long winter break, not to mention snow days, were a gift, and well appreciated...I just like the idea of taking vacation when I want or need to. For example, to attend a wedding mid year or shoot off to Jamaica in February (like I would!).

One thing you have to be careful of when you have summers off is not to complain about it to your working friends. It seems obvious but it actually took me awhile to catch on that when they ask how your summer is going, they don't want to hear, "I'm bored" or "I'm tired of sleeping in."

Except for the financial aspect, working Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday sounds pretty good to me right now. In fact, when I had this schedule in the past (when the boys were young) it was the happiest of times. I could manage the stress of the job better, knowing it was limited to a minority of the days of the week. I had time to make appointments, phone calls and take care of the business of the family during my weekdays off, as well as to do healthy things for myself such as exercise, read, write and drink copious amounts of coffee. That was a funny. And, when and if you do go back to work full time, you feel like you just got a huge raise.

So, this is all to say that I feel I made a good decision for me in changing directions at this time.  I already feel like less of a deadbeat.

Journey

It's hard to believe I will be starting a new job tomorrow.  I want this to be the last new job I have to start.  I had quickly forgotten how hard the good-byes can be when one invests heart and soul in a vocation. After giving my resignation, a huge sense of dread and fear enveloped me as I had to plan how/who/when to tell the different constituents (I know that sounds like a weird word to use) I work with: teachers, students, administrators, co-workers, in five buildings and a central office.  I quickly devised a pretty good plan, but can't help feeling I offended someone who didn't get told in person, or at all.  I thought I had my bases covered, and then more and more people kept coming to mind that I needed to say goodbye to.  I had about 3 weeks to unravel myself from the education web, and I pretty much did it without tears (mine or theirs).

One of my teacher friends had a wonderful collage of photos of students past and present made for me with the caption

EVERY GOODBYE BRINGS A NEW HELLO!

OMG, I thought today, I'm going to be introduced to many new faces which I will have to learn their names and ranks quickly.  No worries, I consoled myself, it could never be as vast and intimidating as an ENTIRE school full of personnel, whose first (for casual conversation) and last (Mrs, Ms, Mr, Miss ---in front of the students) names must be memorized as rapidly as possible, let alone Four new schools at once.

Mini Book Reviews

I just read two books back to back and they couldn't have been more different.  Beneath a Marble Sky takes place in 17th century India where the Emperor is building the Taj Mahal to honor his recently deceased wife. He has married off his favorite daughter, Jahanara, to a cruel, disgusting businessman who brutally mistreats her. She secretly falls in love with the brilliant architect of the Taj Mahal, Isa, and they find a way to be together with the help of her dying father. This story is told by Jahanara talking to her granddaughters in the 'present' so we know the outcome will be favorable for her.  This is John Shors' first novel and I went from barely knowing what country the Taj Mahal stands in, to being fully immersed in the world of war, culture, relationships and architecture of Agra, India in 1632-48.

The Supremes at Earl's All-You-Can-Eat is set in southern Indiana a few years back and is reminiscent of "Steel Magnolias" which I saw on stage recently.  Three friends nicknamed "The Supremes" since high school meet regularly at a diner and the story weaves past and present seamlessly to reveal their rich, intertwined lives and the power of friendship. Amazingly, written by a man in the voice of a woman, Edward Kelsey Moore nails the female psyche. In a nod to 'seven degrees of separation' Moore is a concert cellist who is friends with my sister's old college pal, Claudia, who plays viola professionally in the Chicago area.

Both these novels were recommended to me by my parents, and both took about 1/3 of the way through to become engrossed, but by the end I was disappointed to reach the last page.

I am now at the beginning of The Whole World Over a 2006 novel by Julia Glass. If you have read Three Junes or anything by Glass, you will find her writing can only by described as dense.  The way she details every passing moment or thought is just incredible. Not in the way I find monotonous as when authors go on and on describing scenery. This density is internal, as if we are inside the mind of the characters and seeing and thinking as they experience life.

Delivery

I promised a post on my hope for the future generations, and now I must deliver. One thing I can honestly say, among even the very most compromised parents, I have never met a mother or father who I didn't truly believe loved their child. So, I do have faith that people I don't personally think should have children, will have children, and they will love their children, in whatever way they do.

On the bright side, I see young parents like my sister in law, Jennifer and my niece Dawn, whose children have every benefit emotionally, experientially (apparently I just made up that word), educationally, and materially. As I sat through a workshop on helping self-destructive adolescents Friday, I could not help but think of the relatively few problems my own children and I encountered as they graced through the teen years.

Here are some ways I think this generation (I think they are called the Millenials) are really smart, and hip, and cool.  They take much harder classes in high school; in my day there was no AP, Honors or Dual Credit classes. Many high school students now graduate with a semester or more of college credit and way higher level course work under their belt, thus preparing them to presumably advance further in their college years.

Let's talk about risks. Today's youth have much more education, awareness and common sense about the risks of drinking and driving, smoking and drugs. Many kids now have parent supervised parties, or at least "parent at home" parties, whereas, my generation was always looking for the empty house to have a party, if you know what I mean. I honestly believe kids today are much more likely to wear seat belts, designate a driver if there is going to be drinking, and keep in touch with their parents by text as to their plans and whereabouts.  This seems really smart to me.

Diversity is much more taken in stride today than 20 or 30 years ago.  Kids don't balk, act surprised or flinch when they are in the company of others who have disabilities, differences in sexual orientation, and certainly not racial and ethnic differences.  They have grown up not only tolerating diversity, but embracing it.  In my school, there were posters put up by the Gay Straight Alliance about marriage equality and bullying, and none of them were defaced or taken down. There are kids in wheelchairs, kids having behavioral meltdowns in the hallways, two girls or boys holding hands, and no one gives it a second look.  That's just cool if you ask me.

It goes without saying that kids today are way ahead of us in the technological and digital world.  They can figure out problems with electronics without ever thinking of looking for instructions or as we used to say, "reading the directions."  They can make movies and edit sound and play music and create art in ways that blow my generation out of the water. They are funny, too.  They make old words new again; they're constantly inventing new vocabulary. Scrape, swag, bromance and they be like you just got treated. 
They're so hip.

So, if anyone starts complaining about the next generation, you will now have some ammunition. They are just as smart, hip and cool as your generation and maybe more so. Until next time, YOLO!!!!!!!!

Generational Angst

Is it every generation's job/fate to worry about the next generation’s ability to successfully carry on the world's business?  Or is it that I work with the most dis-ordered children and families day after day? Or perhaps, am I just getting old and cranky?

Because I am seriously worried.

Parents in the 1940's worried that radio and television would be the downfall of society. Parents in the 50's worried about Rock and Roll.  Parents in the 60's worried about long hair, drugs and bra burning feminists.  My parent's generation worried about the Animal House parties and drug overdoses.  Parents in the 80’s worried about anorexia and HIV. 

I worry that today’s kids can’t two shoot baskets at the Y without looking at their phone. The young ones lie on the floor playing games on their devices for more time than they play actively. For Cripe’s Sake, they have to have radio commercials telling them to “Go Outside and Play” an hour a day.  The overweight are now the majority in the elementary schools.

Most interaction now occurs through texting and social media. Does this generation even know how to communicate face to face? And don’t get me started on their writing or ability to speak without saying “like” every other word. 

Conflict resolution?  Huh, what’s that?  They say unthinkable things on Facebook and resort to profane rants, fists and violence when confrontation does occur.  I’ve noticed an increase in sports related fights and a decrease in true sportsmanship being displayed at the high school up to the professional level.  Self abuse (cutting and suicide attempts) is the go-to way to lessen one’s personal pain. How does that make any sense?

What is going to happen to this generation of Baby Mama, Baby Daddy, good-bye nuclear family?  Even the middle class is moving away from marriage all together and those who do are divorcing at an extraordinary rate. 

Granted, my exposure to youth is heavily weighted to the most troubled and emotionally disturbed young people, who have been exposed to unbelievable trauma and dysfunctional environments.  Their lives revolve around DCFS, foster care, jail, prison, court, probation. Their coping skills are nil and their role models weak or non-existent. Many kids today don’t know who or where their biological parents are.  

And yes, I am getting old. Each day I am greeted with new gray hairs, puffier eyes than the day before, hands that could pass for a great grandmother, and a cranky attitude to match.  I hang up my clothes after wearing them for a day. I have put Kleenex up my sleeve when I’ve been too lazy to go to the trash basket. The age spots and cellulite do not go away no matter how much I pay for skin products or how much I work out.  I have gone 2-3 days (4 once even !) without washing my hair, because it “feels like it’s drying out.”  That’s when I catch that old people smell on myself.  So yes, I have definitely crossed over into the physical and mental make-up of an old person.

Whether I am in the wrong profession, moving into the wrong mindset with age, or simply carrying out my fate, I definitely have concerns.  I struggle with these issues on a daily basis.  Still, there are days when my faith is restored, and you can look forward to that in my next blog. I have not gone completely to the dark side. Maybe I just need a vacation.

Parenting the Young Adult

When I was a young adult, I could always count on my parents to be there when I had a question or problem: how do you hard boil an egg? how do you change a flat tire? what is an escrow account? how do you get wine out of the carpet? how much should I contribute to my 401k? what should I do, Adam ate a tube of lipstick? My dad was there when I bought my first car and my mom mentored me in preparing my first Thanksgiving turkey.

Now it's my turn to help my boys successfully transition to adulthood, now known as "launching."  It's a fine line to tread of being proactive, also known as lecturing and letting them learn from their mistakes.

Recently, Eli decided to cancel his overdraft protection at the bank because they were charging $60 a pop. His contention was that now the bank wouldn't  allow any purchases when he didn't have money in his account. I tried to explain that this wasn't going to prevent him from overdrawing his account, and someone could still come after him with fees, it just might be CVS or Outback.  The lecture went on for some time, on the importance of tracking all expenditures to ensure this doesn't happen.  Of course, with his generation they don't write checks, so the likelihood of overdraft is reduced but as I explained there are still some small businesses that don't process their debits immediately, which could put him in the position of overdrawing his account if he is not careful.

I have been providing Eli with recipes and cooking lessons in preparation for cooking in his apartment this year, only to hear that he cooks Hamburger Helper, ramen noodles and rice and vegetables exclusively.  I don't know why it drives me crazy that he and his roommates have a pet turtle, am I worried it might die over Winter break because they failed to get someone to look after it?  And it was all I could do when visiting not to bag up the overflowing garbage can and carry it to the dumpster.

Pat and I did win one war with Eli in December when he casually decided to leave Macomb to go back to Normal in a blizzard, or as close as we come to a blizzard in these parts. He had a commitment to play trumpet at graduation the next morning and it didn't help my fury that he came home the day before to see the midnight showing of "The Hobbitt" and that he waited all day when the weather was fine, to leave at dark just as the storm hit. I do remember a few harrowing drives back to Drake in white out conditions which probably gave me the resolve to put my foot down regardless of the consequences with his music professors. Actually, the truth is I had to get Pat to back me up and resolutely bar him from leaving. He moped around all night, but was over it in 24 hours.

Why is this focusing so much on Eli? Adam rarely asked a question or let his guard down enough to show vulnerability or a need to communicate.  Cal is still home and not spreading his wings too much yet. So, it falls to Eli to be the guinea pig of our loosening parental influence.  I think he will be all right, especially if I can learn to let go and allow him to learn from own his mistakes.

Minivans

My parents are test driving a 2012 Toyota Sienna van.  They were positively beaming when they pulled up to show us.  Thrilled with the trade in offer on their banged up DodgehatefulkeyedCaravan.  Dad just turned 82 and has been pretty home bound;  Macomb bound at least (unless dinner is involved).  I was commenting on the new car smell and how once you drive, you gotta buy.  He said, "I'm just so happy. I haven't been this happy in a long time."  So it's a pretty much done deal, and I'm happy for them.

I am off to finish the disappointing Swedish 'thriller' "The Andalucian Friend."  It is NO dragoon tattoo, let me tell you. Not sure how I even got to page 400.  Bit by bit, as there are way too many characters (undesirables), it's confusing, and just plain boring.  Entertainment Weekly really got this one Wrong.

Day

Yesterday was a really nice day. We had a little down time with the boys and Cal was so funny.  He was singing out random songs generally acting goofy. That's kind of what happens when a sports season ends. He played his last Legion baseball game Friday, and he will never play in Macomb again at the high school field.  He can't wait to get out of Macomb and on our little getaway to Western NY next week.

Then Marissa came over and it always takes awhile to get our groove on, but eventually we did after she was 'bored' with the board game I bought at a yard sale. She was a little lukewarm on the picture treasure hunt I made her, and didn't especially like the sunglasses I picked out for her. She liked yellow but I liked pink on her.  I filled up water balloons, as I did last time we were together and they were busting as soon as we carefully set them on the spikey, hard grass.  We played Sorry, had dinner and sang a few Karaoke songs.  She prefers crap, dare I say, from something called "Victorious," a Nickolodean show and Selena Gomez??  I prefer Taylor Swift and Lady Antebellum, even Lady Gaga to that.

That evening I spent with some girlfriends who always crack me up.  We played some Loaded Questions and I have the ability to fake people out.  Apparently, my inner self doesn't exactly match my outer self, and the game brings that up quite well.  I like a shock factor, too. I was out late (11:00) and slept great in clean sheets.  

Eli's

Note to Dad (Richard): the following is NOT for publication in the Family News.

I have to tell one on Eli now.  He asked to go grocery shopping with me this week, so he could "learn from the sensei." He's getting his own apartment next year and that means supplying the food for himself.  I guess I forgot how much I hate shopping with others, especially for groceries.  So, off we went Friday morning.  As soon as we got in the store, I was feeling very testy, for whatever reason.  A lady who was ordering too much pastrami was really pissing me off, and then she and her daughter were clogging up every aisle I went down with their bodies and shopping cart.  I tried to skip an aisle to get ahead of her, but she kept getting in my way.  Finally, the following exchange came:
Eli: How can you live like this?
Me: You mean all cranky and bitchy?
Eli: Yeah, and you let some random person ruin your shopping experience.

I guess all Eli learned from the sensei was never to go shopping with the Sensei.

Sons

I just wanted to say this: I haven't talked to Adam in a couple of weeks.  But it was so nice, I saw him four times in less than two months.  He came home for Mother's Day which was really sweet.  He didn't get to the mall (his lament) before he came, so when I went down to Springfield to see him over Memorial Day, he took me to the mall to get supplied with tea from Teavana, the elegant tea store.  Then he took me out to eat at the Chesapeake (very nice restaurant) and insisted on paying.  We were supposed to grill out, but the weather was pretty ugly.  June 11 he came home for his birthday, and he also made an appearance July 1-2 when Betsy and Chris were here.  Don't think we have had this much visits in- ever.  While none of my kids are particularly a-ttached, Adam is the most detached so it has made me happy to have this contact with him.

Okay, so Cal cracked me up yesterday.  He was hanging around and took an unposed picture of me.  See below.  He goes, "This isn't bad.  Look at your luscious hair!"

And Happy 82nd Birthday to my dear Dad.  

And the Mountains Echoed

I had kind of an epiphany while reading Khaled Hosseini's new book (title above).  Hosseini writes about Afghan relationships and culture, most famously in The Kite Runner.  This new novel is spread all over time and the world but all ties back to Afghanistan.

One son has grown up in Greece and left as soon and as far away as he could get.  As a doctor, he ended up helping in war torn Kabul in the present time.  The longer he is away from Greece and his mother, the harder it is to go back, and he avoids it for many years.  When he finally goes back, he is shocked to learn his mother is proud of him and what he has done in the world.

A daughter born in San Francisco to Afghan parents grows up and is unable to leave home. As an only child, she feels she must see her mother threw her death of cancer as she was about to leave for college. She is then tied to her lonely father, who has dementia.  He lost all his family in Afghanistan and came to the United States to start a restaurant and a new life.  By the time the girl finds her father's sister, who was separated from the family at age four, he know longer has his mind to know who she is.

This made me think about how we don't or shouldn't own our children.  Our best job is get them ready to go out into the world and be themselves.  While staying home and caring for family is usually seen as an admirable thing, this novel kind of turned that idea on its head.  I'm not sure that was Hosseini's intention but that is what I took from it.  We are all responsible for the direction of our lives and there shouldn't be any guilt about living it the way we choose.

5 Weeks

I noticed that the next 2.5 weeks are going to be my slowest time of the summer.  I have a lot to accomplish on my home study class on ADHD.  It seems much easier than the one I took from the same company on poverty. I poured my heart and soul into that class.  This one I am pretty much breezing through.

There are a few baseball games left. One more band concert. The garden is starting to produce a little fruit.  I am cooking a few good meals. I am trying to stay active.  Actually, I am waiting on a book to come in from the library (Alexander Soderberg).  I have already read several good ones this summer. We are thinking of watching a new show called "The Bridge." It is based on a Danish program, and since we like "The Killing" so much, and it is based on a Danish show, hoping it is as good, or nearly, because nothing could be as good as The Killing. I am working on mind control (my own), as in not letting myself get worked up about minor but annoying issues that come up.  It takes positive self talk, practice of  yoga or meditation, distraction, activity, and affirmations.  Makes me think maybe one day I will return to mental health counseling possibly starting a private practice for therapy and spiritual growth.

And 5 Weeks refers to how much time is left before I go back to work.

Summmer

We have been having a great week with my family. A LOT of laughs, hopefully no one's feelings got hurt.

One highlight was touring the Horn Field Campus with Eli where he and Cal work.  I have to say the high ropes were much higher than I remember climbing at a similar facility back when I was 28 or 29.  It was a huge challenge then, but I think it would be close to impossible now.  Thanks, family for dropping me on the Spider Web challenge ("low" as in 12 inches "rope"), bending my back awkwardly backwards and bruise/cutting my knee.  Great teamwork.  Later, we managed the "Whale Watch" challenge where five of use balanced on a teetering platform.  I think we were the worst group Eli has ever had...

Yesterday we attempted to rent boats on TWO nearby lakes. Now it's confirmed why the area is not known for it's recreational facilities. Both closed to boat rentals on Monday-Tuesday and Monday-Friday respectively.  And I thought it was summer vacation season! Ha.  We resorted to blowing grass through our thumbs for what seemed like hours, trying to get a bald eagle to swoop closer.  Later Chris broke Mom and Dad's TV trying to plug his phone into the USB port to play a video of this activity.

Everyone is sleeping now, at peace.  I went to bed early last night after several late nights in a row, playing games and talking.

Uncle Cal

Uncle Cal was well known for being a kid at heart, eating his dessert first, and the hilarious one liners he could still throw out up until the end.  The part of “Callie” as we first knew him, and which we later learned he hated, that has been bouncing around in my head, is what a fine and fierce protector he was.  Two incidents come to mind, the first when I was about four years old and was knocked down by a jealous Laddie, the Farm’s resident collie.  This dog was terrifyingly scratching or biting my face, but Uncle Cal was right there and got the dog off me quickly.  He even offered to shoot it (which did not happen), if I remember correctly.  In fact, I’m not sure I actually remember any of this, it could be just the retelling I remember, but I still have a trauma reaction when a dog comes at me barking.

The second was when Betsy fell off a horse and broke her arm at about age 10.  This I do remember. As soon as she was thrown, I can see Uncle Cal running down the country road in his requisite coveralls, and into the ditch to retrieve her.  I can still feel his anger at any person or animal that would hurt one of his family.  Since he didn't have any children of his own, and my mom was his only niece, we were his adopted grandchildren.

Uncle Cal taking a swing at ping pong, 2009, age 84.

Two years later, 2011.

Summer

May 29th and summer seemed to stretch out forever. It's already been a week, and it's slipping away. I always have this idea that if I write, it slows down time. If reading other people's journal is boring, you can just stop now.  So my break is May 29-August 11.  I have a few plans, it won't be all wasted.  But it will go too fast.  I know this.

Here are a few things I have up my sleeve:

1.  Taking a graduate class on AD/HD via distance learning, should take about 40-45 hours.

2.  Participating in School Crisis Assistance Team training in person (about 40 hours including the commute).

3.  Driving my mom to North Dakota for Uncle Cal's Memorial Service: June 13- 18.

4.  Entertaining brother, sister and their families June 28-July 6.

5.  Watching Cal play Legion baseball.

6.  Preparing some lessons for junior high boys with behavior disorders group.

7.  Traveling to Buffalo to join Pat's 9 siblings to celebrate Ellen's 80th birthday, July 25-30.

8. Spending time with Little Sister; we will celebrate our 2 year anniversary in July.

9.  Reading, read some more, make picture boards for Cal's service, clean up around the house.

10. Volunteering at Loaves and Fishes monthly.

11.  Taking yoga class and 'walking for wellness', riding bike, walking for the heck of it (I have two weekly walking dates), lifting my wimpy weights, cardio, etc.

I just have to remember not to complain.  What's there to complain about,  you say?  Well, there's summer guilt, kind of like survivors guilt where I feel like I should be working like everyone else, and I let it crawl into my head. I only feel worthy on weekends, when it's okay to not be working.  Sometimes I feel a little lonely when the house is empty because everyone is at work. And, yes, sometimes I get irritable about things like cooking, shopping, cleaning up, and the thought that 'summers off' means house servancy.

Oh, it will be glorious. I really do love my new schedule. I worked hard for it, so why not enjoy it?

Classic new use for a Turkey Baster

Today I discovered my mom's mini frig got unplugged and was all stinky and beginning to mold up.  I offered to clean it, but on one condition, I do it my way.  I knew she would have a procedure I was not prepared to follow, but I had no idea how strange this one would be.

So she says to me, she says, "Okay, but what I do is take a turkey baster and suck out the water from the collection tray below the freezer and shoot that into a bottle and use it for my ironing because it is perfectly distilled water."  So I says to her I says, "Are you kidding me??!!  I'll buy you a bottle of distilled water."  All I can imagine is some stinky, stagnant water that's been sitting there a week and then it being sprayed on clean clothes.  I start singing "My Way" by Frank Sinatra and nobody wants hear that. In a testament to her growing flexibility or intolerance of my horrible singing, she says, "Okay, I may hold you to that, but go ahead and do it your way."  She really didn't want to clean out the frig...  So I'm imagining soaking up the water with a sponge or cloth, but of course, there are no sponges in the house, only a stack of rags.  When I open the door and check the tray, darn if it isn't up to the brim. Too full to accommodate a t-shirt rag.

I yell up the stairs, "Mom, where's the turkey baster?"  and I suck the water out with the turkey baster.  It's actually pretty clean and not smelly.  I would have transferred it to the bottle if I wasn't too lazy to follow the instructions for finding the "distilled water from unplugged refrigerator trays" bottle.

Hurtling Toward Summer

That's what I call this time of year, the last three weeks or so of school.  It certainly is different being on a school schedule. You think you can barely wait for that long break. Makes me wonder how I ever worked year round, the way about this time of year I think maybe I could retire sometime soon. Ha.

So many of  my students are the same way and have dropped out, got kicked out, got locked up or just plain quit. We even had two student deaths in our district this year; one a 7 year old boy killed by a pitbull, and a 17 year old driving 100 mph in town. I know there is something I should do/should have done.  Research says --blahblahblah-- but guess what, research doesn't know every kid and the myriad of circumstances that lead them to their heart breaking decisions.

Saw my first "summer blockbuster" movie last night, Star Trek: Into Darkness.  I hope and think it is getting a new audience that has never seen the TV series or the first generation of movies.  I love watching how the young actors play the iconic roles.  My favorite has always been Bones.  The 'bad guy' was pretty good, not overdone. I would like to see more of him and sure we will.  Other than that, without shouting spoiler alert, it was okay. I could always do with less chasing, fighting and shooting, but that's what chick flicks are for.

Television

I am actually getting obsessed over television.  I hope this doesn't make me some kind of psycho but here goes. First there was The Following with Kevin Bacon chasing a college professor serial killer who has an increasingly large cult following.  We tend to yell at the bumbling police, FBI, ATF, etc. because they are absolutely inept, but yet we keep coming back, and only four episodes left.

Next is Norma and Norman Bates in Bates Motel.  Wow, we love this one, too.  Vera Farmiga is my new idol.  Pat calls me Farmiga now (which is the highest form of compliment I can think of), and I call him Norman.  This show is going to singled handedly bring back the Swiffer. I left Pat a note today, if you can't read it:  "Get with it, Norman."

We have DVR'd the first episode of Hannibal, which we are hoping is as humorous and engrossing as Bates Hotel, both being prequels to the original movies.  And I heard one of the cable channels is bringing back The Killing.  Oh dear, I think this could be a problem.

50 is...

1. Letting go and moving on.  Pathetic as it is, some 49 year old women still have school girl fantasies. Time to give that up.  Everything from "I'm gonna wear those jeans again" to having the perfect house to going on "The Amazing Race" with Betsy is included here.
2. Letting go's first cousin: Getting over yourself. That is to say, forget the face lift, tummy tuck, lipo dreams. The parts are dropping and gravity wins.  Acceptance is the key.  As someone once said, I earned every one of these wrinkles. They represent a memory, a laugh, a piece of wisdom.
3. Maybe if I'm really lucky, menopause.
4. 50 is the new 50.  I read that in a magazine and thought it was so cool.

It's kind of like a new freedom.  I can just care a little bit less.

Books, etc

I'm having some withdrawals today since finishing Louise Erdrich's "The Round House" last night.  Good book. I had assumed it was an older novel taking place in 1988 on a North Dakota Indian Reservation.  Both my parents roots being in North Dakota and visiting there every single summer and some winters of my childhood, I have related well to Ms. Erdrich's writing ("Master Butcher's Singing Club" though I can't really remember the plot, I know I was sad to have it end).  I wouldn't exactly say I was sad for this book to end, because it deals with some pretty awful situations that I wanted to see resolved, and ended quickly and for a happy ending to enfold.  There was no happy ending, but clues throughout the book that the boy had a good life in spite of the troubling dilemmas he faced.  I always wonder, especially when middle aged women are writing from the perspective of a teenage boy (13), how accurate the thoughts, feelings, and actions are...

Relate well to her writing may not exactly be accurate. I respect her writing and find it wholly engaging.  While reading this book I was suddenly overcome with a new, strange thought. That is, I felt guilty (?), responsible (?) that my ancestors (and ones that I am old enough to remember) took land from the Indians in  North Dakota.  I had never felt personally connected to the tragedy of the Native Americans (sorry Dad).  Whether it was legal, or moral, or  justifiable by saying, "well some other white folks would've took it," the fact is, we European Americans stole this land and screwed these people over big time.

So, after finishing the story and combing the afterword, jacket covers, title page, I find it was just published in 2012.  Surprising.