Suh-weet Jesus….

what a day!!!!! Everyone , EVERYONE i came into contact with today either had a bad morning, a stressful afternoon or appeared to be losing their mind….is it a full moon????  Is the earth falling off its axis?  Is there some bad mojo floating around?  Man, if tomorrow goes like this Im going to bed and staying there…

Call your mother

Did your mom have a mammogram yesterday?  Call her, ask her how it went, offer to do the healthy breast dance with her or to sit with her while she waits for the results.  Let her know you remember the skinned knees, ear aches, toothaches, bruised egos that she walked you through. The phone calls the night before you had a big test in college, the trips to the store for just the right interview outfit. You call when you need a babysitter, or a couple bucks, you call when your job or your spouse or your child is making you rethink your whole life plan, you call when you need firewood or to borrow the truck.  You call when you need a recipe or a craft supply.  Call your mother and ask her how the mammogram went.  Tell her you love her, and that either way — you’re there. Call me.  Im home.

Choice, my ass.

So, how about all those parents who choose to not have their children vaccinated go live somewhere where they can’t spread the illnesses their kids catch  to all the children whose parents did have their children vaccinated and cant spread their illnesses to all those children with autoimmune diseases that make them especially susceptible to the diseases those “choosing” parent’s children carry, and cant spread their diseases to the infants whose parents haven’t been able to make the “choice” yet — or to all the children with leukemia or a myriad of other diseases that make them susceptible to your choice. Or to the pregnant mothers who don’t really know if their moms had them vaccinated when they were kids…
It kind of reminds me of second hand smoke or drinking and driving. Yes, you can choose to kill yourself, or to leave your child exposed to illness that generations before you have seen take children from their parents arms, or disabled for life — but damn it, you don’t get to choose to expose my grandchildren to your koolaid.

Enjoying the view….

Who knew 20 feet could seem like 20 miles (and I am no marathon runner)…..

this is the view from my couch == the view out to the sunroom where my spinning wheel sits, patiently waiting for me to get busy.  But it is not happening today.  A stomach bug has nailed me to the couch….I swear, it tires me out to punch the keyboard keys…..

But I will make the best of it and think about all the wonderful pieces I will knit from the sweet blue and green merino lounging on the floor next to the wheel.  And, as the sun makes its way through the window, i will convince myself that it is warm out and that if I was actually sitting in my spinning chair my thigh would be warmed by the glow.  (Not true, today there is NO heat transferring with that sunshine.)IMG_20150205_121227933_HDR

I wonder if they know

I wonder if my kids know how much joy it gives me when they laugh with me.  When we connect on that level and find something unbelievably funny at exactly the same time.  My kids, you know, are all grown, with families and stressors and ideas and activities…and adult friends that they laugh with.

We went through that wonderful family time when they were all early twenties — flip cup on the back porch, beer pong, fishing trips…lots of fun and laughter.  Then one got married, one got sick and one got stupid with alcohol so those kind of parties with bonfires and late night bottles of wine, subsided.

We became subdued….

But now, all are healthy, all are married, and they, for the most part, handle their alcohol like adults.  And so, again we laugh.  Sometimes.  Not over beerpong and bonfires, but over things their kids do, or say.  Or the way their father shops. Or something I have told them to do, like place a blanket over their child’s head when they take him outside to protect him from the cold.

And I will look at my child and see that smile in their eye.  and we will laugh. Belly laugh.  And it feels so familiar and so good.  I am so glad they are here.

an observation on teachers

Some of my best friends are teachers.  I was a teacher for over 20 years.  So, the rant that follows may seem a bit, well, treason-ish, but I have to get this off my chest.

Why is it that teachers bemoan the upcoming Monday return to work  every Sunday?  Why is it that social media is full of “I don’t want to go” and “Oh ,6  am, how I hate you” when the end of a vacation looms.   Why is it that the mere mention of a “flurry” brings out the “snow day” cries — and why do teachers start counting down to the end of the school year the minute Spring vacation is over?

And, do these teachers really think that their kids don’t sense this?

Now, I know, lots of it is in fun.  Teachers love teaching.  Why else would we stay in a field that pays so poorly, garners such little respect and has such ridiculous hours….but really guys.

Let up a bit on the “Woo Hoo! I don’t want to go to school.”  It’s just not very becoming.